#they get along so well......most of the time
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takeyourcyanide · 1 day ago
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they were already incredibly suspicious to me, every last one of those supposed “professionals.” i think I’m more suspicious than I ever was now - somehow that was possible. I’m even more apprehensive, perhaps even fearful.
solidarity between people who want to take psychiatric meds to function and those who don’t.
What’s important is that we both have autonomy, informed consent and safe access to treatments we want, and to not be forced, coerced or pressured into those we don’t.
#yes yes yes#I feel so trapped right now - it seems I might be able to cancel the appointment and hopefully take nothing but if I’m unable to I think-#-that will be my final straw#horrifying for me. interacting with psychiatry at the age the body is at is traumatizing - traumatizing at any age though perhaps I’m being#-dramatic. I don’t think so though.#my experiences have been less than decent so far - for the most part#plus they tended to want me on medication out of simple stigmatized lenses#they were more concerned about the fact that I even experienced something such as supposed hallucinations (GASP) than my actual experiences#it’s difficult to word but I’ll speak more and hopefully organize my thoughts in a later post#psychiatry isn’t here to help it’s here to put everyone in a single file line - they mentioned me not being normal enough essentially#I’ll elduicate more in a later post#but I was forced and am being forced with the looming threat of long term hospitalization though I will hopefully be able to get out of it#that threat is now always hanging over my head#they forced me and it ended up fucking with a health condition I already have along with general side effects#the courts almost got involved while the impostor was trying to get me out of there because they didn’t want to release me#despite it being an unhelpful place just like every mental hospital. I feel even more ‘unsafe’ as they call it and tempted to run now.#I don’t trust the medicine I’m afraid of it and having threats held over my head it all felt sort of like mind rape - to be dramatic again#it doesn’t matter how much I express how afraid of them I am they don’t understand and I have other reasons besides my suspicion as to why#-I don’t wish to take them. the fact that the body can’t tolerate them for example. not wanting to be forced. the forcing makes me panic.#it’s mind rape. not to mention even despite the inability to tolerate he still wanted to try an antipsychotic down the line - which is not#going to happen. no medicine. I’m not trying anything. I’d be more open if there weren’t threats over my head and I weren’t being forced#but I don’t want any at all. I have my reasons - they want me to take it for medically induced suicide purposes as well - what I mentioned#earlier/ not being normal enough for their standards and being how they even on a subconscious level view me as a dirty schizo#who needs to be fixed so I don’t want them for that as well#I haven’t rambled about it much yet until now but it feels like mind rape to me even if that’s dramatic I don’t generally experience the#instinct to cry and still I cried multiple different times over this shit over being forcefully kept in a bad facility that wouldn’t even#give me my physical meds and did nothing for health conditions so the body dehydrated horribly and shit and some of the staff were pretty#rude too it was just a bad experience not as bad as lobotomy I know but I couldn’t stand it and being forced the threats all the threats#made sure to try and keep myself in check for that reason but the threats of long term if I wasn’t compliant enough I don’t want to be sent#away I want to be left alone I want freedom I want a break I want a hug (?) I want to be away from all impostors I want to disappear
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ccccatttta · 3 days ago
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“every magic spell ends when the caster dies”
sirius has always known that. it was one of the first things his tutors told him when he was barely a toddler, and it was mentioned in some hogwarts' classes once or twice.
he sometimes ponders about it, how certain magic wasn't everlasting.
he witnessed it once, in his seventh year. the war had already started, and with each passing day, more and more students got black letters delivered, all of them mentioning some recently deceased relative. it was a third year ravenclaw girl he doesn't quite remember, but who always carried a fairy doll that her uncle enchanted to act like a living one. she always carried it in her pocket and let her out when she was bored or to show it to other students.
the day she got her letter at breakfast, she frantically searched her robes and took out the little doll, and it looked just like that, a doll. no more flapping wings, tiny giggles and fairy dust, just a toy. she burst into tears then, and was inconsolable for months.
it's one of sirius' most vivid memories.
it seemed so bizarre.
he prayed something like that never happened to him, because it would hurt. it would destroy him.
he was only given enchanted things by the people he loved the most, so he would know immediately if any of the different trinkets were to just go dull. the second it happened, he would know he has to face a reality without one the fundamental beings of his very self. it terrified him.
it was one of his biggest fears.
and it happened to him.
it was a thursday afternoon.
they had a rare free day. no fights, no funerals and no war in his and remus' flat, not for that day. james and peter were there too, an 'afternoon with the lads' they called it. they were laying on the living room, sprawled all over, bowie on the record player and cards on the table along with some beers.
he was on the way to the kitchen when he felt his hair falling out of the messy bun he did in the morning.
and, with a little clink, there was a metal star hairpin on the ground.
he knew then.
it was a secret, how he kept that hairpin. well, not a secret per se, but no one knew where it actually came from. only sirius.
no one knew he had the most horrendous time trying to tie his hair when it was long enough to do so. his hair was just as temperamental as him, which meant that they usually didn't get along. he suffered for months until that hairpin was gifted to him.
sirius didn't quite know how it really worked, just that it was charmed to make everything easier. he just had to think about the hairstyle he wanted for the day, and the hairpin would do it, shrinking or getting bigger if it was necessary, securing his hair perfectly and without much fuss.
no one knew that except sirius.
and regulus, who gifted it to him in his third year.
regulus.
his baby brother.
“every magic spell ends when the caster dies”
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caitlinsnicket · 3 days ago
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jinx relationship headcanons
warnings: there's some nfsw but it's almost clinical, the usual dark-ish jinx stuff that always comes with her
a/n: guys don't worry she's alive and well here in my house she's actually taking a nap, we're gonna have dinner later
masterlist | 🍉 | ko-fi
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She often forgets to take care of herself: makeup stays on her face for days, her hair becomes matted and dirty at the ends, and her hands are dusty with chipped nail polish.
So you like to take care of her—helping her wash her hair (it really is a two-person job these days), gently washing her face, and making sure she's thoroughly clean before letting her go to bed or even hug you.
And in these moments, when she smells cleaner than she has in years and her hair feels so light she could fly, there are no voices, no buzzing, no sound. There’s just peace and this sense that she could actually have things like these—normal moments and casual actions with you. Most importantly, that she deserves them.
She's sitting in a loose white shirt, eyes closed, humming a song that's been stuck in her head for days. You're behind her, humming along as you brush her long locks. When you're done, you inch closer, placing your hands on her shoulders and start kissing her: first the top of her head, then her forehead when she leans to look at you, followed by her nose. Finally, you pepper kisses across her whole face before pulling back to grab something else for her hair.
She turns to look at you, her eyes dreamy and shiny, her heart beating fast. There’s a small smile on her face.
After that, you both cling to each other on her enormous bed. She switches positions every few moments—from laying her head on your chest, to being the small spoon, to the big spoon, to just fully lying on top of you and burying her face in your neck. She's unusually quiet in those moments, as if she's recharging.
Sometimes, she might talk about her feelings—the ones she doesn’t understand yet and the ones she knows are bad—and she’s thankful you don’t judge her.
Other times, she might just want to jump your bones, thinking it’s an equivalent “thank you” for taking care of her. It takes her a while to understand that she doesn’t have to pay you back for your affection.
There are also moments when you help build her back up: putting makeup on her face again or braiding her hair, carefully working through knots to avoid pulling too hard.
The biggest problem is her staring. You've tried talking her out of it so many times, but while you paint her face or fix her hair, she just stares at you, unblinking.
Sometimes, she starts frowning, taking all of you in. Occasionally, she'll pull back unintentionally, her chest too full of feelings she doesn’t yet understand.
You ask if she's okay, and she responds with a snarky comment, building up her walls again. But eventually, she relaxes into your touch, letting you continue.
It’s actually really hard for her to relax most of the time.
For example, she never fully lets go when the two of you are intimate. Sometimes, while you're eating her out, you catch her staring at you, laser-focused, as if waiting for you to hurt her. “Sorry, toots. Got lost again. But that feels good, so keep going,” she’ll say, laying back against the pillows as if nothing happened.
You used to get really worried and stop altogether, but those dissociative episodes have become fewer and fewer as she gets healthier.
Dancing is something you do almost daily, though it’s not really dancing at this point—it’s just rocking heads, jumping around, and holding each other while spinning.
On rare occasions, you’ll slow dance. She’ll put her feet on top of yours, and the two of you will barely move in circles in the middle of the bedroom. In those moments, she’s as happy as she can be, just existing with you.
You also love annoying her by whispering bad jokes in her ear until she stops whatever tinkering she’s doing because she’s too busy laughing.
Then, she’ll tickle you until you’re crying, cussing you out for saying all that nonsense to her.
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callmecoke · 3 days ago
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sugar baby headcanons!
CW: Mention of sex work, This is sfw generally but still deals with adult topics so proceed with caution.
Tf141 x reader
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What you’ve realised about your favourite mystery account is that A) it's run by multiple people, and B) At least one of them is called Price.
You can’t exactly pinpoint who the rest are or how many, but you’ve managed to identify a few common themes when interacting with the account.
First, you know who Price is, and you can almost always tell it's him when he’s interacting with you. He’s the one you go to first regarding bills and fees you physically can’t pay. Within seconds, he transfers you the money and never lets you thank him for any of it. He also does his weekly check-ins to make sure everything is good. “Have you eaten?” “How’d you sleep?” “Did you take your meds last night?” That kind of thing. He’s also the one who calls you ‘Dolly’, a nickname he reserved for you. 
But you're also pretty sure this other guy (Simon) lurks in the chat when you’re streaming. He won’t ask questions; he just sends you random tips throughout the stream while he watches silently. He’s not as talkative as Price or the others, and that’s kind of how you know it's him. But you’ve realised that just because he’s quiet doesn't mean he doesn't want to talk. It’s quite the opposite. He enjoys hearing you talk about your life and day and silently rewards you. When you DM him, you even get a little conversation. Nothing more than money and a “Nice”, but still conversation nonetheless.
You know one other fellow spends most of his time in the livestreams and not in your DMs (Gaz). He’s the one who engages with you in conversation the most, asking endless questions about your life. And he always comes back on the next live stream, remembering everything you said in the last. He’ll want the update on that project you were working on for school or if that job interview went as well as you both had hoped. If you weren’t Live to complete strangers, you’d probably open up to him about stuff you’ve never told anyone.
Now…One more person shows up now and again, mainly in your DMs. Part of the service for the website is that people can pay you to take a selfie and give it to them. They can be dirty or completely innocent; it all depends on what you’re advertising. There’s this one person who rather frequently asks for pictures of you, especially those with you smiling. You know it’s a different guy from the others you’ve spotted because he’s the only one who's outright flirtatious with you. Initially, you were wary. A man spending a lot of money on pictures of your face and upper body just screams trouble. But you grew to trust the account, so when you sent them the image, you were surprised by how quickly he showered you with praise.
“Fuckin’ hell, you’ll give a strong man a heart attack walking around that gorgous.”
“Makes me wonder how cute you look in person.” “I’m surprised no ones come along and snatched you up all ready. Can’t complain though. Means I get more of you to myself.”
You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a slight blush on your cheeks after reading his responses.
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astrow1zar6 · 3 days ago
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Astro Observations~ 40
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Scorpio moons take really long to talk about themselves and their past. Especially when getting to know someone they are romantically interested in (I notice this more with the men) it’ll be years until you really start to know them. This is why many can view them as toxic.. but once you wait out their little game they are loyal to you for life.
Taurus moons would rather pretend they are happy and content than ask for help. This is why they are viewed as emotional stable (but really they’re just repressing a lot:( it’s okay to be not okay♥️)
Aries Venus people get turned on from arguing (especially if paired with a Scorpio Mars)
Fire mercuries were yelled at a lot for talking too loud
Moon in Leo’s and be SO toxic when insecure. Cockiness to the extreme.
Every Leo sun I meet I see attract so many people to them. They really are such magnetic people their energy gives people life (like the sun). As dramatic as they are their confidence is so refreshing & admiring to be around. Their confidence gives others confidence as well.
Virgo suns Leo Venus women smell soooo good usually. Every time I walked someone to smelled like heaven they had this combo.
Aquarius sun tend to mold into their environment. Their personality can become easily influenced by those around them. This is why it’s important for them to surround themselves around positive influences. (Their friend group can usually change them for the better or worse)
Mars in Aquarius folks love things that are out of the ordinary whether it be clothes, sex, people, friends ect. Anything that confuses them or shocks them they usually become obsessed with.
Uranus in the 3rd house sounds like such a smart placement! I never met one person with this placement so I’m so interested on what these people think. (If you have this placement talk about it in the comments 🤗)
Mercury retrograde people are FUNNY omg. For a placement that has a hard time communicating they are absolutely hilarious. They say the most original jokes, shit that makes you think “how do you even come up with that🤣” they are able to see things people normally overlook which makes them so witty.
All Scorpio placements have such piercing dark eyes (sun, moon, rising esp). Even if you have light colored eyes they still appear dark in a way idk how to explain it.
Scorpio risings love people who can hold eye contact. It’s like their secret way of communicating. Insecure types however I see completely avoid it.. but most I notice really dig it. (Especially when it’s their crush 😏..)
Leo risings can exaggerate things about themselves to impress others. They are very dazzling and engaging but you can sense a fakeness in how they present themselves at times. (You guys don’t have to be something you’re not to impress others you guys are so cool regardless 🫶🏽) I’ve seen a lot of people with this placement be actually really awkward and nerdy but most cover it up with a glamorous mask.
Water mercuries can sense when people have bad intentions. They are usually the first ones to see when someone is fake while others might miss it. (Can catch a bad vibe from someone everyone likes then later find out they were horrible people all along).
Moon in Aries women are so HOT. The men are hot as well but very immature and annoying most of the time.
Aqua moons I feel like are the most unconventional and eccentric of all the Aquarius placements. They on a different wavelength then us all.
Gemini Risings in school were usually getting trouble for talking too much or disrupting the class lol.
Sorry I took to long to post I’ve been violently sick all week ♥️🫶🏽
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dwaekkicidal · 2 days ago
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Oh my god I beg for some mean skz smut 😔😔
hmmmm ok but what are we thinking for the hyung line?
is it about meanie channie who snaps after you slut yourself out in the studio when staff was in there- along with the rest of 3racha who you know has a little crush on you hehe. he barely waits for them to walk out the door before shoving you towards the door, forcing you to lock it before shoving his cock into you while you're pushed up against the door- mind you with minimum prep because "You don't deserve it. after that shit." his cock is soooo much thicker like this!!!! >.< and he manages to make his thrusts prove his anger? hips smacking into yours so harshly that it feels like the soundproof door isn't enough to drown any sounds out
what about brat tamer minho who forces you to sit between his legs and watch him jerk himself off? you have a pretty little vibrator thats connect to your clit and your g-spot simultaneously, and he has the controls on his phone that rests in his free hand. he fucks with the controls so much... maybe even teasing u by drawing his full name- in english AND korean- before setting it to the highest setting and leaving it like that until you're cumming at least 3 times.
my sweet binnie who's only mean if you beg him to be or if you reaaaaally push his buttons- maybe throw in a dig or two about how theres another man out there thats better than he is (spoiler: theres literally negative of them). your punishment (reward) is always the same! one of those those sexy ass arms around your neck and squeezing as he fucks into you so roughly that your whole body is jumping forward, your moans cutting off from how aggressive he gives it to you!!!
ok but what about lover boy hyunjin who is actually one of the meanest doms you have ever seen, 99% of the time it being unprompted as well??? the first time you push him to get rough in bed, you're in for ittt~ he ties your wrists up and connects you to the hook in the ceiling, leaving just enough rope for you to be on your tippy toes (also the same hook he previously told you was for painting... yeah, my fucking ass) and speaking of asses, yours is sooo sore from the big handed smacks he leaves there >< he'll always stop if you want it, but otherwise he has no plans to until you submit to him completely <3
whats on the menu for the maknaes today?
definitely munch hannie who ties you up with the most random shit that works- any ties he has laying around, your panties, and sometimes he'll straight up rip his shoelaces out for it?? but it's all so that he can show off the shibari he secretly learned- the main one being a series of knots that tie your arms to a leg each, forcing you wide open for him all the while he eats. and what a messy fucking eater!!! your last 3 orgasms worth of cum dripping down his jaw as he nibbles at your sensitive spots <3
"angel boy" felix me thinks.. who makes you fuck yourself onto him in doggy, refusing to put any effort because he's the "angel" who deserves to be worshipped (yes but...) if you falter even slightly or move to his disliking, you're getting a series of mean smacks- ones that leave a pretty little heart shape in its wake from the pretty pink paddle he insisted on buying (OR HIS INITIALS IF HE GETS A CUSTOM PADDLE OMFFF)
ohhhh but owner seungmin who fucks your brains out with a pretty little collar around your neck <3 (maybe even one also with his initials engraved hehe) he tugs at it to fuck you back onto him, not even need a leash when he slides his finger through one of the loops. huffs and puffs about how tight you are while he actively works to make you tighter, from squeezing your legs together to overstimulating the hell out of you all the while he disallows himself to cum for as long as he can handle, all so when he finally busts theres so much and its all getting fucked right back into you
and god... toy fiend jeongin... the second you let him know you're ok with toys being brought into the bedroom, you're almost regretting everything!!! he's SO fucked up about it >:( he keeps one of those big hands around your throat while the other slides a vibrator as deep into you as it physically can go without causing you pain... and when you squirm around and your legs squeeze together, he's either digging his fingers into your thigh to push them apart or he's biting whatever he's closest to- your thighs, your calf, your shoulder, or (his favorite) your nipples <3
hnnnnng....
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Taglist (red=can’t be tagged):
@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08
@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy
@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz
@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa
@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams
@aeri-skzver
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hannieehaee · 3 days ago
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NEED TO KNOW
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18+ / mdi
summary: with jungkook's lifelong crush also came an aversion to dating anyone who wasn't you. but what would happen when the poor lovesick boy came crying into your arms after finally giving a chance to what turned to be a disastrous date?
content: virgin!jungkook, f2l!jungkook, loser!jk, sub!jk, college au, jk is insanely socially awkward and shy, kook is touch starved, afab reader, smut, dry humping, body worship, reader's lowkey possessive over jk (and vice versa tbh), oral (f and m receiving), handjob, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 10k
a/n: loser virgin koo but light on the loser and heavy on the virgin
masterlist | patreon
Jungkook often found himself feeling like his life was one of those very shitty romcoms.
Except he had never really felt like the heartthrob, or even like he was the one getting swept off his feet.
No, his experience was more closely aligned with the loser virgin who was tossed aside so the star-crossed lovers could find their way to each other. This was just how it had always been.
Jungkook had watched most of his friends find love with a person he could easily consider their soulmate. He was a romantic at heart, after all. These things were not difficult for him to spot.
He often wondered when his turn would come, except it just never did.
Being one for romance was seemingly not for the weak, as Jungkook found himself passing yet another year as a lovesick fool hoping to find that perfect someone to finally look his way.
Scratch that. Many people looked his way. Even as a self-proclaimed loser, Jungkook received plenty of attention from boys and girls alike. Looks were often thrown his way, but they were never the looks he wanted to receive.
Sure, he could easily reciprocate the appreciation he received for his looks. He could smile back, maybe even ask for their number and then see where it all led afterwards.
Except that Jungkook needed the romance. He needed to be swept off his feet (or maybe the reverse, it depended on his mood). Jungkook needed a soulmate.
It all just became eternally more complicated when Jungkook insisted on having that person be you.
That and the fact that Jungkook was slightly, how to put it, socially inept. He was shy, anxious, unable to read social cues, and basically just an overall mess. But the worst of all was his undying crush on you, this he knew.
It was a tale as old as time. Falling for your best friend, pining after them for years, hoping one day they'd turn around and realize you'd been here all along. And now on year nine of knowing you, it still hadn't happened. Jungkook remained a sad, lonely virgin awaiting for you to grant his romcom wish and make him into the love interest.
It didn't really help how painfully socially awkward Jungkook was. Truly, he was surprised you'd stuck by his side for this long despite that. There was no way Jungkook would ever want to risk ruining your current relationship in favor of something he knew would never work out. You did not like him back, these past nine years made him very well aware of that.
And so, as a result, his friends had the grand idea of setting him up.
Not once, not twice, but countless times.
However, Jungkook being Jungkook, never agreed to it. Not once had his friends been able to reel him out of his dorm long enough to entrap him into a date.
Jungkook simply saw no point in it. Blind dates were the complete antithesis of Jungkook's beliefs about romance. He needed a connection before even considering entering a romantic relationship. The thought of going on a date with someone he'd never met before unnerved him to no end.
Plus, he was convinced no one would ever actually like him past his looks. There had been far too many instances of him being on the receiving end of insults to his personality or not-so-subtle stink eyes thrown his way. To have that happen to him whilst on a blind date was just a huge no.
Jungkook found himself stuck in an endless limbo. A loveless, endless limbo as he pined after the one person he could never have.
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"You're going. No isn't an option here," deadpanned Namjoon, hitting Jungkook lightly to the back of his head with a rolled up magazine — almost as if he were a puppy receiving a scolding.
Well, that's pretty much how Jungkook had been feeling these days.
For the past week or so, Jungkook had been down in the dumps (even more than usual), making his unrequited crush everyone else's problem through his constant sighs and unsolvable complaints. You truly were the only person in Jungkook's life who didn't fall victim to his lovesickness — for obvious reasons.
There was a very reasonable cause for Jungkook's souring mood, though.
You were seeing someone.
Maybe.
At least that's the impression Jimin had given Jungkook when he mentioned some guy you'd been texting lately.
Jungkook had no further evidence, but the mere thought was enough for his heart to begin cracking.
He always knew this was a one sided love, but the confirmation was entirely too hurtful for Jungkook to take. Apart from that, the thought of you not telling him also added to the hurt.
This only caused Jungkook's lovesickness to worsen, making him become a leech at his other friends' sides as he allowed himself to rot. Maybe it sounded dramatic, but Jungkook felt the situation was drastic enough to justify his reaction.
It was unfortunate that Jungkook's friends cared so much for him. Had they simply allowed him to rot in his own self-inflicted misery, he wouldn't have found himself at the receiving end of Kim Namjoon's wrath as he scolded at him to go on the date he'd set up for him with his lab partner.
To be fair, his friends had offered him many options. They'd tried to get Jungkook out of his shell and wingman him in order to find a girl for himself. They'd attempted to get him to confess to you. Hell, they even putting Jungkook on dating apps where he had full control of who, when, and how he met a partner. But Jungkook rejected every option.
This was not good enough for Kim Namjoon.
After having dealt with a heartsick Jungkook for far too long, he gave him an ultimatum. Either he confessed to you, or he'd have to at least attempt a date with a nice girl of Joon's choosing.
So, it seemed like Jungkook was going on a date.
"Sora's going to hate me. I make a terrible date. Last time I went on a date, I panicked when my date tried to kiss me and closed the door on her face. I'm pretty sure I slammed it her nose," Jungkook whined as he rubbed at the back of his head.
"Jungkook, believe it or not, girls do like you. Sora asked me to set you guys up. C'mon, just try it out. This could be that romcom romance you're always talking about."
"Doubt it," he murmured sadly, "But fine. I guess I have nothing to lose."
Namjoon clapped his hands gladly, proceeding to pat Jungkook's back in encouragement, "Good! It'll go great, Jungkook, don't worry."
"I- I don't even know what to wear or what to say, I-" Jungkook found himself begin to panic, "What if-"
"Jungkook," Joon interrupted, "You're overthinking this. Sora's a nice girl. She's been asking me about you since you stopped by my bio class that one time. She's probably excited about this, there's nothing for you to worry about," he reassured.
Still, Jungkook remained overly anxious about it. Also, how was he supposed to explain this to you? He didn't want you to think that he, that he was interested in pursuing other girls. It was a dumb thought to have, but he couldn't help it. What if the feelings were somehow, by some act of god, reciprocated and Jungkook was ruining it by going on a date with someone else? It wasn't like he could possibly hide this from you. You were best friends, for god's sakes!
But one more look to Joon's annoyed expression told Jungkook that he could under no circumstance call this off.
And so he was going on a date.
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When the day of the date arrived, Jungkook was even more nervous than he had imagined.
He had no one to ask for advice, no one to confide in so that his nerves didn't go overboard and drove him to insanity.
Okay, he could've easily asked one of his closest friends like maybe Jimin? Or perhaps Taehyung? Maybe even Mingyu. They were all very successful with dating, whether that be casually or long-term. Jungkook was really the only outlier in his friend group to fail miserably at the dating aspect of life.
And every other social aspect, really.
Unfortunately, there was only one person that could provide Jungkook with the comfort and reassurance he needed right now. And that was you.
You, however, were the one person Jungkook could simply never tell about this.
Regardless of the endless times he'd convinced himself that you did not care for him in any way other than platonic, the fear of somehow disappointing you by going on a date with someone else completely prevented him from even considering telling you. It was stupid and delusional, but, well, so was Jungkook.
The very (extremely) small thought that maybe you liked him back continued to bug him even as he got dressed for his date. He'd subconsciously dressed in an outfit he knew you liked on him and had even done his hair the way that usually had you running your fingers through it. In his head, there was a battle between pleasing you despite your absence from this date, and feeling immense guilt over it.
Somehow, Jungkook managed to push those thoughts aside, choosing to try and calm himself down as he waited for the time to arrive.
He attempted to implant happy thoughts into his mind. The possibility of this date going well was one among them. What if Sora was a perfect match for him? What if this was what he should've done years ago instead of closing himself off to relationships due to his hopeless crush? Who knows, maybe he'd fall in love and become a former virgin within a few months.
But then life decided to catch him off guard again with a sudden knock on his door.
He knew in his heart who it could be, but he senselessly hoped it was anyone but you, knowing he'd panic with your sudden presence.
Walking over to check the peephole, he was met with a sight he usually enjoyed seeing — you, smiling in the direction of the peephole, knowing he was watching on the other side of the door.
Hesitating a bit, he opened the door, attempting to decrease the acceleration of his heart. Was there any way he could lie to you about his plans and get you out of here within less than ten minutes? According to his phone, it was 6:32, which meant he needed to get his ass out of his apartment in the next fifteen minutes if he wanted to make it on time for the reservation Sora had made for 7.
This might've been the downside to telling you you could come over unannounced at any time. Usually, Jungkook was either at home or with you, so this arrangement had not caused any issues until now.
Upon opening the door, he was immediately caught in a simple, yet sweet hug — you were a huge hugger, a blessing and a curse to poor, touch-starved Jungkook.
You entered the apartment as soon as you pulled away, making your way inside as if you owned the place (which, you kinda did, considering how often you were here). It took you a few seconds to register Jungkook's dressed-up appearance and inevitably comment on it, interrupting your usual greeting to him.
"Oh? You're all dressed up. I love that shirt on you," you fixed at his collar as you said so, "Do you have plans today? You look really handsome."
Well, Jungkook's unofficial goal of impressing you had been accomplished. Too bad you weren't the girl he was going on a date with tonight.
After your question, you'd moved further into Kook's apartment, making your way to his couch with ease only a true best friend would have. You even grabbed at the chips Kook had left on the coffee table earlier, disregarding your surroundings due to the level of comfort you felt at his place.
"Oh, uh, I ... Joon actually set me up on a date tonight," he decided to go with the truth. Jungkook knew that he'd feel better with your encouragement at the end of the day. Maybe that was what he needed in order to calm his nerves. That, and some sort of official confirmation that he had no chance with you. Perhaps that'd be enough to get him to snap out of his delusions.
He felt bad about it as soon as your face dropped. Or maybe he imagined it. It went back to normal immediately after.
"Oh," you paused, "That's- wow. Congrats, Kook. Who's the lucky girl?", you asked as if it meant nothing. As if him going on a date wasn't a life changing event.
Which maybe it wasn't for you. Kook knew you didn't like him like that, but the stupid hope prevailed for some reason. He was driving himself insane with the idiocy behind the thought, but his hopeful nature couldn't help itself.
"Uh, you know, just some girl from Joon's class. Her name's Sora. We're, uh, going to some fancy restaurant tonight."
"Oh, fuck, did I interrupt you? Sorry, Kook. You should've told me," another flash of something made its way to your expression, but it left as fast as it came as you stood from your seat and walked back to him.
"You, uh, you look amazing, Kook. She's going to fall in love with you for sure," you smiled sweetly at him, fixing his collar again in a manner that had him screaming internally.
He didn't want anyone but you falling in love with him, but it's not like he could actually express that to you without putting your friendship at risk. So, he gave you a tight lipped smile and accepted your compliment with a scrunch of his nose.
"Is it time for you to leave? I'll leave you alone. Wouldn't want to interrupt you in case the date goes well," you went to joke, chuckling lightheartedly as you usually did, but Jungkook swore there was something off in your tone. Call it wishful thinking.
"You don't have to leave," he mumbled.
"It's okay, Kookie. Good luck with your date," you went to pick up your bag that you'd put down when you came in before approaching him by the door once more, "Here. For good luck," and a soft kiss was pressed against his cheek.
He stood there dumbly after that. Maybe he mumbled a thank you or a see you later, he wasn't too sure. He was far too distracted by your proximity and touch and then suddenly he was alone again.
Kisses on the cheek weren't exactly a tendency for you. They practically never happened. At least not with Jungkook's aversion to intimate touch. Hugs were usually as far as you two went due to his shy demeanor in that area. Perhaps you were somehow asserting your place in his life? But it was most likely not from a place of possessiveness as Jungkook's dumb mind wished for it to be. You were just genuinely the sweetest girl he'd ever met, and so you kissed him with the best of intentions. Jungkook would just have to keep it in the back of his mind for his date.
... Which was starting quite soon, he realized as he finally rushed to leave.
With one last resigned sigh, he looked at himself in the mirror and finally made his way out, hoping tonight would be the first step to getting over his rom-com wish of being with you.
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Jungkook's nerves did not diminish on the drive to the restaurant, much less as he walked in and was led to his reservation. It was a bit of a shock to him to find Sora already sitting there, but perhaps it was a sign that she actually liked him. Sometimes it was difficult for Jungkook to believe anyone could possibly be into him romantically. He knew people found him attractive and had been prepositioned many times in his life, but no one had ever actually shown interest any further than that. Maybe it was how socially awkward he was, or perhaps how insistent he was on chasing after you in particular.
He shook these thoughts out of his mind for the time being, opting to arrive over to his date as quick as possible.
"Hi," he said dumbly as he took a seat across from her.
"Hi, Jungkook," she smiled back.
She did not seem as nervous as Jungkook did. She seemed quite calm actually, which only made Jungkook more anxious. That and the way she'd checked him out as he sat, but he'd put that thought into the back burner for now.
"Uh, sorry if I kept you waiting," he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands.
"Don't worry about it. I'd have waited longer if necessary," then she leaned over the table, as close as she could through the distance and whispered, "I've been waiting for a chance with you for a while."
Okay, that was forward. Was that good?
"Oh, uh, well, I, uh, I hope I don't disappoint you, then," he felt himself blush.
She gave him a smile that made him feel as if she was in on some joke he was unaware of, "You won't. Trust me," and that was that.
The waiter came soon after and wrote down their orders, offering them some breadsticks and beverages as they waited. It was pretty calm during that time. Maybe even too calm.
The conversation didn't exactly flow naturally between the two. It was a little static here and there, forcing Jungkook to think of ice breakers for first dates that he'd seen on some Buzzfeed article he'd read back in high school, back when he was first introduced to the idea of dating.
Sora was nice and extremely pretty, but Jungkook did not feel that spark he'd always hoped for. He should've known the moment he walked in. There were no bells playing nor did he feel dizzy at the sight of her. Jungkook knew these were unrealistic measures to find the love of his life, but they had been present when he met you and still remained prevalent in his current feelings for you. With Sora, however? It was as if he was awkwardly making conversation to his science partner after having finished a project — it was just filling the silence.
But Sora looked happy. She continued to smile at him, giggle harder than Jungkook would expect (his humor wasn't really at its peak performance tonight), and would even reach over to grace at his arm every so often. When the food came, she made eyes at him as she ate. It was a pretty sight, but her intentions confused Jungkook. Was she flirting with him?
He felt out of his league in this situation. Like there was some context he didn't have.
And then the other shoe dropped.
Sora began playing footsie with him under the table, interrupting him as he responded to some benign question she'd asked about his major. She hummed in response, tilting her head to the side and biting her lip flirtatiously at him. It unnerved Jungkook, causing him to stutter endlessly at the contact. God, he was so unaccustomed to touch; any kind of touch, really. Sure, you and him hugged from time to time, but he avoided any further touch, knowing he'd make an embarrassment out of himself if you ever did anything similar to what Sora was doing.
You'd never questioned his proclivity against intimate touch. You just respected it, keeping touch to a minimum and letting him take the reins any time you hugged or lounged on the same couch — there was the very rare cuddling, but it never went further than shoulders pressed up against each other.
It's not as if Jungkook was a germophobe or anything of that genre. He was quite fine with pats on the back, handshakes, hell, even tackling when playing sports, but it was the more intimate touches he stayed away from. He just felt entirely out of place, knowing he'd embarrass himself somehow. Thankfully, he'd never been in such a situation until now.
Jungkook didn't want to judge Sora too harshly by how forward she was being. It was nice to be wanted, especially by someone as appealing as Sora. It wasn't her fault that he was a little socially inept when it came to relationships. No, that was entirely on him.
He'd seen countless romance movies and had even watched as all his friends interacted with their significant others. Jungkook knew what was expected in a relationship, yet he just wasn't feeling it with Sora. Any time you touched him, he found himself wanting more but holding back due to how much more he wanted. In this instance, he just felt nervous as to what type of touch would come next from the girl sitting across from him.
Then came the question.
"Wanna get out of here?", she smiled after dessert, the same flirtatious grin on her glossy lips.
Jungkook physically gulped at the implication, but somehow found himself responding.
"O-okay."
Was that enthusiastic enough?
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Jungkook had been a gentleman. He'd walked Sora home, held her hand, and pulled her close to him as they swung their hands back and forth. It was nice. Sora was a really nice girl when she wasn't fucking Jungkook with her eyes — was that what she'd been doing? He wasn't exactly sure.
But his question was answered pretty quickly.
Kook had insisted on walking her all the way up to her apartment. She lived off campus and it was after dark, it just seemed like the proper thing to do. Even if the date hadn't been exactly what he'd hoped (through no real fault of Sora's), he wanted to remain polite to her.
Turning to him as they stepped foot in front of her door, Sora's hand went to rub at his arm, thumb feeling at the skin of his bicep in a sensual(?) way. Her eyes deemed slightly hooded and her grin was still present.
She took two steps forward, taking his lack of movement as indication he was okay with her coming closer. Which he was, but he was still anxious about it. Would she kiss him? Should he kiss her?
Her arms wrapped at the back of his neck, the hold causing him to lean down slightly. His balance left him at the sudden proximity, making him naturally wrap his arms around her waist. He kept the touch as feather-light as possible, not wanting to cross any boundary.
That's when she kissed him.
And it wasn't just any kiss. It wasn't like the two or three kisses Jungkook had shared with other girls in the past — no mere peck or short-lived kiss. Sora was very forward with her kiss, making Jungkook yelp in surprise as he tried to follow.
He kept at it only for a few moments before attempting to pull away with shy mutters and excuses, 'wait,' 'shit, i-' and 'maybe we shouldn't' were a few of them, with the last one finally making her fully pull away.
"I-I'm sorry, I'm just not sure I want to ...", he grimaced at himself, feeling like an idiot.
Sora was a pretty girl, clearly into him and seemingly willing to put up with his weird personality. Jungkook was simply being an idiot, thinking that he could go on a date and suddenly be over his years-long crush and-
"What? What do you mean?" she interrupted his thoughts, looking rather peeved off.
"I, uh, I mean that, uh, maybe we should wait? I don't wanna rush things and-"
Just as he pulled out the first excuse he could think of, — What, Jungkook? Were you really thinking of going out with her again or would you just ghost her? — she interrupted him again.
She looked at him with clear annoyance overtaking her features, arms on her hips as she moved her weight from one foot to another. Anyone who saw her could clearly see some sort of frustration in her demeanor.
"Jungkook, what did you think this was?", her tone was incredulous, "What was the point of all this?"
"W-what do you mean?"
She scoffed.
Okay, she didn't look as happy to be there anymore.
"We to some shitty restaurant late at night, I invite you back to my place, we kiss. What did you think I was expecting from all this?" she continued.
Jungkook was pretty sure he knew the answer, but he was too mortified to actually respond.
It was sex, right? Sora had seen this as a hookup rather than a date.
God damn you, Namjoon.
"I- it's not-"
"I thought you were interested. Hell, Joon said you kept asking him about me. That you were into me," she groaned, "I should've known. Everyone knows you're a prude. I've seen you shut down other girls, I just thought maybe I'd be an exception," she continued, confusing Jungkook further.
Fuck, had Joon tried setting him up with Sora? Jungkook knew his heart must've been in the right place, but he had probably misread Sora. They were clearly not compatible.
Jungkook kind of felt like he was going to cry. He felt so embarrassed by the situation. And there was no way he could clarify the white lie Joon had told her. It'd just exasperate her more.
"Do you have nothing to say? Should I just go into my apartment now?"
Jungkook looked at his shoes in remorse, feeling as if he'd actually done something wrong.
Kissing her had been a mistake. He should've stayed as he was, waiting for the perfect girl to come around. Should've trusted his gut despite Joon's insistence.
"I'm sorry. I, I didn't mean to lead you on."
She scoffed again, "Yeah, clearly. You should just go. And tell Joon to never set me up again," and with that, she'd entered her apartment, slamming the door on Jungkook in the process.
Jungkook stood there for a minute or two as he contemplated what had just happened.
Part of him was glad it had stopped where it did, while another part felt like an idiot for not going through with it. Granted, he had not expected such a big reaction to his rejection, but he could've used this opportunity to lose his virginity, maybe force himself to move on from you.
But Jungkook knew that would've been an even more disastrous experience. He didn't want to sleep with anyone just to get it over with. He wanted love. He wanted you.
With his tail between his legs, Jungkook went back home, disappointed at his first attempt at putting himself out there. He also made a mental note to spit in Joon's soup or something.
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The way back home had been a mess of emotions.
Jungkook went from embarrassed, to angry, to confused, and ended up settling on mortified. That, and pathetic. That feeling seemed to always be present in Jungkook's mind, but tonight he felt a little more pathetic than usual.
I mean, he had had, by all means, what could be considered a perfect date. He had a girl who clearly wanted to take things further, yet he panicked like an idiot and caused her to blow up at him. At that moment Jungkook couldn't really find it in him to blame Sora for her reaction. He should've realized from Sora's advancements that she'd want more from him and shouldn't've fed into it throughout the night.
He wondered what you'd think of it all.
Would you have found Sora's reaction reasonable? Would you have comforted him after such a mortifying night.
Well, it turned out Jungkook would find out sooner than expected.
Despite your denial to his offer of staying over at his place while he was gone, he still found you sitting on his couch as soon as he entered the threshold of his apartment - you did have a key, after all.
You got up as soon as you saw him come in, clearly having been expecting him. Your demeanor did not seem as casual and laid back as it had a few hours ago. On the contrary, you looked troubled.
But Jungkook was sure he looked equally as troubled, if not more. He felt shock at seeing you there despite having left earlier, but it soon left him due to bigger matters taking over his mind at the moment.
"Kook," you started, putting your weight on your knees as you knelt on the couch.
"Uhm, hi. What- what are you doing here?"
He was hesitant in making his way to his own couch. Your presence was unnerving him for some reason (well, at least a different reason than usual). He could feel something different in the air. Your demeanor wasn't your usual.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, looking down to your lap.
"I don't- I'm not really sure."
That was unlike you.
"I thought you didn't want to stay in case I, uh, I brought Sora back home."
He didn't mean it in an accusatory manner, but perhaps his disheartened demeanor made it sound as such.
"Sorry, I can leave. I- I'll leave," you went to get up, but were swiftly stopped by Jungkook when he walked over to you, closing the distance.
"Don't- Please don't go. I could use the company," he offered you a loop-sided smile, hoping it didn't give away how shitty he was feeling.
You looked up at him now with the closer proximity between you. Jungkook knew you could probably see the glassiness in his eyes due to tonight's events. He hadn't cried on his way home, per say, but he had been pretty damn close to. And you, being you, would probably be able to clock it immediately.
"Are you okay?", you finally asked.
"It was just ... a very shitty day," he chuckled despite himself.
The two of you took a seat on the couch, the tension somehow still loud.
"What happened?"
"Oh, you know. I was kind of dumb to think a girl could possibly like me like that. Joon meant well, but ... it's just not for me, I guess."
He wanted to diminish it. To keep it vague so he wouldn't have to open that can of worms. The can of worms that were his deep-seethed insecurities and his never ending crush.
Turning your body to face him, your eyebrows furrowed in worry, bottom lip sticking out a bit in a subtle pout.
"Jungkook," your voice was serious, "Tell me what happened."
"You first," he rebutted, "Tell me why you're here."
He surprised himself a bit. Usually he had no problem letting you comfort him when he was down in the dumps. But something about your demeanor needed to be addressed first. That small seed of hope in the back of his mind was twinkling at it. Could it be? Had you stayed because-
"I didn't want you to bring her back home," you said after a few moments of silence, voice almost a whisper.
Your eyes were forcefully shut and a breath left you. It was as if it had been a huge weight on your shoulders. Though you didn't seem more relaxed at letting it out. If anything, you appeared even more pent up.
And Jungkook? His body was reacting to such a statement. The implications behind it had his heart racing and his hands clamming up. It'd be a punishment beyond belief if it didn't mean what he thought he meant.
But still, he asked.
"Why?"
"Please don't make me say it."
"I need you to. Please."
Sora was completely out of his mind despite the conversation orbiting around her. All he was thinking about was the pained tone in your voice when you'd said you didn't want her back here with Jungkook.
He felt sickly at the strange satisfaction that brought. Your pain was the last thing Jungkook could ever want, but this was the kind of pain Jungkook could remedy. Only one word from you — or rather, three — and he'd take it all away. He just needed a bit more from you to not risk it all. He needed you to take the risk, however selfish that might've been.
You opened and closed your mouth a few times, but never garnered the courage to actually say something. It was rare for you to not speak your mind around Jungkook, and that knowledge only made his heart race more. Wanting to encourage you, he scoot over a bit closer, placing his hand atop your own that was lying on your lap.
A soft smile was his reward for such an action. That and the brushing of your fingers before fully grasping his hand in yours. He loved holding your hand, even if he rarely allowed himself to do so.
"Why didn't you want me to bring her back home?", he asked again.
You sighed, nodding to yourself in what seemed to be self assurance before turning your eyes to his and finally speaking.
"Because I like you. And it would've killed me if you lost your virginity to someone else," you said in one quick breath. Your confidence pretty much left you after that. "I know that makes me a hypocrite, but I- I can't help it. I like you so much it hurts. I was never going to tell you, but I had no idea how much it'd actually affect me if you ever got a girlfriend," you continued, hand squeezing his own every so often, "I thought I'd be ready to see you find someone else and take that as a sign to move on but, fuck, I felt like shit walking out of here this afternoon knowing you were going to see another girl."
By the time you'd finished your confession, your eyes were glassy. They weren't really facing Jungkook's anymore, but he could still tell. His eyes were glassy too.
His heart had stopped within first sentence. He wasn't sure how he was currently sitting up, somehow not having passed out at the initial confession. He also found himself completely mute, unable to react to what was a life changing moment for him.
"Kook?", you called his attention, hand letting go of his own and retracting into yourself, "I kinda need you to say something here," you let out an awkward chuckle, eyes wide and worried in contrast.
"I- I, fuck," he stammered, "I almost slept with Sora tonight," was what he had not planned to say whatsoever, but still somehow found leaving his lips.
"Oh."
Yes. 'Oh.'
"Wait, I didn't mean-"
But you stood up, still refusing to look at him.
"I should go. I'm sorry if I got in the way of your plans."
You tried to push past him, but he towered over you, stubborn in letting you leave but still too panicked to return your sentiment.
He felt like a complete and utter piece of shit.
"Wait, please don't go," he pleaded, hand bracketing around your wrist.
"I think I embarrassed myself enough, Jungkook."
"You didn't! Please, I don't know why I said that. It wasn't true, I- I couldn't go through with it. That's what I meant to say," that seemed to get you to stop fighting him, but your sniffled and glassy eyes remained.
"It's fine, Jungkook. You don't have to try and spare my feelings. I knew it wasn't mutual, I didn't mean anything by it, I-"
That was seemingly what broke the camel's back.
"It is mutual! I'm in love with you!", he interrupted, surprising himself even more than you.
Quiet fell for a few moments, breaths as heavy as the tension of the room.
"What?"
"That's why I could never go on dates. Why I always said no when the guys set me up. Why I shut you off any time you got a boyfriend ... Why I stopped things with Sora before they could go too far."
His admission got you to finally look at him. The look in your eyes was indescribable to Jungkook. He'd never seen it before. There was shock mixed with something else. Perhaps hope? That's more or less what he felt at the moment.
"Are you lying to me?", you asked in a sudden shift of demeanor, now a serious edge to your tone.
"What? N-no! I- I love you. I've been in love with you for years. You can ask any of the guys. It's embarrassing and time-consuming, but it's always been there. I swear it's-"
That's as far as Jungkook got. He'd never be able to recall what other embarrassing detail about his crush he was about to share, but he found himself unable to care as soon as he realized what the source of his interruption was.
This kiss was incomparable — despite having shared a heavy kiss with someone else less than an hour prior.
No, this kiss was full of emotions Jungkook would need a thesaurus to describe. He was completely out of his league (but, really, when was he not?), lips attempting to follow your hungry ones but losing the battle.
The discrepancy in experience between the two of you was entirely too visible in the kiss, but Jungkook wasn't complaining. He was getting the better end of the stick and you didn't seem to find any issue, so he just counted his blessings and continued to kiss you to his heart's desire.
Your tongue sucked at his own, making his eyes roll back. His hands, which were usually shy in touching you, were greedy in grabbing at and squeezing any part of you available to him. The usual shyness was replaced with sheer need.
Usually, he would've been embarrassed by the needy whimpers he kept leaving against your lips, but he was too into it to stop. You'd reward every whimper with a slight pull of his hair, so he saw it as a good sign and allow himself to let loose.
When he was almost out of air, you pulled away, though Jungkook's lips attempted to follow, not wanting a single second of separation from you. He was able to steal two pecks and one lick of lips before you pressed your arms against his chest to stop him.
"I'm in love with you too," you were breathless as you said it, "I just thought it was safer to tell you I liked you to, you know, preserve some of my dignity in case it wasn't mutual," you chuckled.
Jungkook's mind was somewhere in Kansas at the moment, not really paying full attention to your words. Knowing you loved him back was life-changing, but the monkey-brained part of him was itching for more of your touch at the moment.
"Where'd your mind go?", you giggled when you took note of his dazed look.
Your hands went to pull him closer once more, which he accepted immediately by locking his arms around your waist.
"What? I, uh, nothing," he mumbled, eyes not meeting your own.
God, how had he gotten horny over a simple kiss?
You caught on quickly, grinning up at him as you attempted to fish at his eyes, following his head any time he tried to turn away from your view but failing. It was comedic in contrast to how tense things had just been.
"What's wrong, Kookie?", you sing-sang, "Something on your mind?"
He gave you what he was sure was a pathetic, pleading look, "Please don't be mean to me. My brain's barely catching up to what's happening," he whined.
"I get to be mean for you. You almost slept with another girl tonight," you huffed jokingly.
With a wince, he groaned, to which you just giggled, causing him to drop his head into your shoulder.
"That's not fair."
"I think it's pretty fair. Here I was, pining over you and you're out there about to give it away to some random girl," you continued.
His response came in the form of nuzzling into your neck, encouraged by your arms pulling him closer.
"Stop," he whined, "It was so shitty. I hated it."
You pulled him away from the comfort of the crook of your neck (much to his dismay) to look at him once more. Luckily for him, your arms were still on his shoulders, allowing him to retain close proximity to you — he was unsure how he'd ever accept any distance between you from now on.
There was some worry in your eyes. Or at least that's what the furrow in your brows and the slight pout made him think.
"What happened?"
"Oh, uh, it was nothing. She just ... I guess Joon's not that good at matchmaking," he explained, not really finding it worth it to go back to that moment. Not when he had something so much better now, and weirdly enough as a result of his shitty night.
You offered him another pout, reaching up to give him a sweet kiss as an acceptance of him not wanting to give too many details.
"Mmm, wait, not yet," he mumbled when you went to pull away, this time successful in keeping your lips locked.
Despite your giggle in response, you continued kissing him, soon going back to the pace you'd had during your earlier kiss. It soon turned heavy and wet, making Jungkook's mind daze once more.
Jungkook was on a mission, refusing to let the kiss end. Putting his all into the kiss, he allowed you to take his mind away, making him all but literally melt at your touch. Matching sighs left you, the sound mixing with the squelch of your tongues licking and sucking at each other.
Eventually, Jungkook turned around — lips still connected — and let himself be pushed to sit back on the couch, with you straddling his lap as a result. The newfound warmth of your body atop his own made him dizzy with desire. It was a feeling he'd never experienced before, and it was quickly growing addictive.
A high whine was left against your lips when your hands moved onto his hair, pulling at it softly at first and increasing the intensity based on his sounds. He melted under you, knowing he'd be willing to let you do whatever you wanted to him without even having to ask.
Hands explored your body, feeling an innate need to map out every inch and pull you as close to him as possible, almost to the point of molding with one another.
Your lips explored his neck for a bit, occasionally nibbling and licking at the skin. The contrast between the warmth of your breath and the coolness of your tongue had him sighing out in pleasure.
Who would've thought having his neck kissed could feel so orgasmic?
He wasn't sure whether he was happy or frustrated when your lips found his own again. As petulant as it sounded, he wanted your touch everywhere, all at once. His skin was burning, as were his loins — and no contact further than some kissing had been done.
"Mm, Kook-" you failed at interrupting the kiss, trapped into another and another, "Shit, Kook," you tried again, but easily fell back into it, letting Jungkook lick into your mouth, "Wait, baby."
Baby?
Okay, that stopped him.
"What's wrong?", Jungkook was sure he looked completely gone. His eyes were still glued to your lips and his chest heaved with his heavy breath.
"Are you sure you want to keep going with this? I don't want to push you," you asked, breath equally erratic.
He could've laughed at the question.
There was no doubt in his mind that he needed to keep going. His body was already about to explode, and you were asking him if he wanted to stop? He felt let out a silent whine at the mere suggestion of stopping.
He kissed you again, hands gripping your hips and instinctively pulling you closer.
You took this as a hint to crumble his sanity even further by beginning to grind on him, slow yet intensely. It had him hiccuping in pleasure against your lips, sighing out and allowing you access to his open mouth.
"Please- oh, fuck, please," he pleaded for nothing in particular.
"Is this okay?," you asked uselessly.
Jungkook nodded, letting his head fall back to the back of the couch as his hips pathetically humped up along with yours. There was no direct contact, but the mere stimulation had Jungkook's eyes seeing white. It was reminiscent of all those nights he'd grow too frustrated with himself and begin humping at his pillow with you in mind. He'd always been too embarrassed to acknowledge such a deprived act, but at least he could now confirm there were no grounds for comparison.
"It's so good, fuck. Want- want more."
By then, you were humping at each other like deprived animals, gasping and crying out at the contact.
Jungkook was unsure when you'd thrown off your shirt, far too distracted by the feeling of you on top of him, but his ability to think completely left him at that moment. Your hands let go of him, instead grabbing at your breasts and playing with yourself right in front of him.
It was like a wet dream come to life, mocking him by showing him how weak and pathetic he was.
The sight had him let out an embarrassing whimper. His face reflected how pained he felt at the view, so needy and painfully horny for you.
"Y-you're so ... Fuck, please, I need- can I ... ?"
He wasn't sure what sentence he was trying to make, but the ability to feel shame had exited his mind a good while ago. To be frank, Jungkook wasn't even sure what reality he was in at the moment. The only thought occupying his mind was your body testing his resolve in a way that he knew would ruin him.
You nodded, biting your lip to prevent a smile of satisfaction as Jungkook let his head fall in between your breasts, lips immediately mapping out the are through kisses and needy flicks of the tongue. He grew immediately obsessed with the feeling of your skin under his touch. It was soft, supple, just perfect to the touch. The scent of your perfume was even stronger now, and Jungkook knew then that the smell alone could probably condition him into a boner from now on.
His hips became frantic then, almost pushing you off him with their intensity. But you took it, silently leading him with your own movements as you held onto him for support.
He was beginning to lose himself, knowing an orgasm was approaching. The fleeting thought of your own orgasm made its way into his mind, but it was quickly gone when you started to breathe out encouragements for him to cum, claiming you were right there with him, that you needed him to ruin his pants for you.
When it finally took him, his eyes crossed, head thrown back as he babbled nonsense in absolute bliss. His brain was barely able to register when a few moments later, your own orgasm hit you just as hard. His hips never gave up, still softly swaying with yours as his high went down. He could've sworn he lost consciousness for a few second, as he finally became conscious with himself again when you were kissing at his neck again.
"Fuck. I wasn't planning on that happening," you giggled between soft pecks to the already tattered skin.
"Is this real?", he mused after a few moments of silence. His hands even went to squeeze at your hips, making sure you were truly there.
Unfortunately for him, that's when you left his lap, making him whine as he sat up to close your distance.
"That's not even the best of it, pretty boy," were your last words before turning towards his room, smiling at him to follow you.
Jungkook, being Jungkook, did not think twice before getting up and following you without further instruction, even tripping in the process.
~
Within just a few minutes of being in his room, you were down to your panties and him to his boxers. As mandated by nature, you were sitting on him again, holding him down by pinning his arms above his head as you made out with him as nasty as you'd done in his living room.
Jungkook had no complaints. If you wanted him tied up and to your mercy, he'd go as far as to beg for the opportunity. His mind was not his own anymore, and neither was his body. As far as he was concerned, he belonged to you — a totally reasonable thought to have.
To be fair, it was quite hard for him to think while the girl of his dreams was lying on top of him with her tongue in his mouth. Not that he was complaining, not at all.
Surprisingly to Jungkook, his hands took free rein of your body. They went from your hair to your back to your ass to your waist and back to your hair. A whole tour of your body was had before Jungkook decided to take a leap and sneak one of his hands between your bodies and take a route south.
Jungkook was inexperienced. That was an unfortunate fact of his life. But despite popular belief, Jungkook was not an idiot. He liked to believe that he was more knowledgeable than the average guy ... maybe. He had tried to overcompensate early during college by taking a female sexuality course and diving into the depths of reddit in order to understand the things he hadn't been able to experience first hand.
That being said, you still had to silently nudge his hand a little higher in the midst of making out, leading him to your clit before gasping into his mouth at the sensation.
His bruised ego got re-inflated quickly after, with your following reactions to his corrected movements going straight to his dick. Your hips canted against his fingers, following their movements in a desperate attempt at increasing the stimulation. Jungkook's head felt heavy at the constant sighs you'd release against his lips.
"Does ... does it feel good?", he still felt the need to ask.
You hummed into his lips in response, tightening around his fingers at the sound of his voice.
Fuck, did you like his voice?
This was something he'd need to save for future use.
Before he could continue to speak, you regrettably removed his fingers from inside you, earning a whine and a furrowed eyebrow from him.
"As much as I want you to finger me, I'd rather defile you," you said with all seriousness, giggling when Jungkook's reaction didn't go further than wide eyes.
"It's okay, baby. I'll make it good for you, I promise," your hand laid on his cheek, caressing it in a gentle manner, creating a huge contrast with your soaked panties sitting right on top of his stained boxers. That was just something he had to ignore in order to not burst spontaneously.
"That's not really what I'm worried about," he avoided eye contact, though his hands remained on you.
"Then what's wrong, Kookie?"
"What if ... what if it's not good for you. I, uh, I know you've done it with a few guys before — N-not judging or anything! Just, I- I don't want to disappoint you or, uhm, embarrass myself," he mumbled some parts lower than others, a little embarrassed by his insecurities on top of it all.
"Koo," you pouted at him, tilting his chin towards you — something that otherwise would've had him reeling — "I've already had way more fun with you than with anyone else. You know why?", you gave him that comforting smile he loved, "Because I like you, and I know you like me just as much. And I know you'll do everything in your power to make this good for me cause you're just ... you're such a good guy. This is just about making each other feel good. Okay? No need to worry about making me feel good, I promise I already am," you punctuated your statement with a kiss to his nose, giggling when he scrunched it.
"Yeah, I, uh, yeah, okay."
He suddenly found himself blushing, having undermined your proximity, or, you know, the fact that you were naked and on top of him, coaxing him into sex that he very much wanted to have with you.
Before you could say anything else, a fiery part of him took over, pulling you into him for a steamy kiss, wanting to express all his word-vomit through actions rather than stumbled words. There was no better way for him to show you how he felt about you, how good he wanted to make you feel. His words would often fail him, so he opted to show you through his actions.
Mid kiss, you got up from his lap, though Jungkook did not allow for the kiss to end, opting to lean upwards and sit up so he could keep himself connected to you. It was awkward, having you lean down as you blindly removed your panties, but it felt necessary to Jungkook. Within seconds you were already back on his lap, clawing at his own boxers to try and remove them while still sitting. It was awkward and difficult, but the job was eventually done, leaving the two of you nude as Jungkook attempted not to hump into you like a needy animal.
"I- I want- God, I want to fuck you so bad," he mumbled in a daze.
"Fuck, you have no idea, Kookie."
You sounded equally as wrecked, already one orgasm in and completely drenched above him. It made Jungkook feel powerful and wanted. He'd never felt desired like this before. It was making him lose his mind. Every passing second without being inside you made him more and more antsy.
Then you finally lifted yourself up, this time prying Jungkook's hands away from your hips so you could lean towards his end table where he knew you'd find condoms.
That shocked Jungkook, making him look at you with wide eyes.
"How-
"I know the guys have been trying to get you laid for ages. Jimin told me he got you some condoms," you chuckled at his shock as you nonchalantly ripped the packet open with your mouth, — fuck, why was that so hot? — taking your position on his crotch once more in order to insert it.
He whimpered at the sight, too turned on to feel embarrassed over it as he ushered for you to hurry up. More tiny sounds of desperation continued to leave him as you actually slipped on the condom and lifted yourself up. The buildup drove him insane with desire. Every second felt elongated, but when the moment to finally lower yourself on him came, Jungkook swore he left this dimension.
He'd read about what it was like. Hell, he'd watched endless porn depicting what were meant to represent virgins (but he was aware were just actors), hoping to understand what the feeling of finally being enveloped by an actual pussy would feel like. But it was safe to say none of it came close to reality.
He was unsure of what he must've looked like to you at that moment, but he truly felt himself completely ruined. His mouth was agape while his eyes closed shut, eyebrows lifting so high up they were likely at his hairline. Fingers dug into your skin, careless of any bruises they could leave behind (he made a mental note of asking if he could kiss them better later, but it was buried under every other feeling at the moment). His toes curled and his body hair rose in goosebumps. Every other part of himself went unaccounted for, as pleasure took over his ability to process anything else.
It was the safest feeling possible. He knew it was an odd way to describe it, but he truly felt like he was made to be inside you. Like he was fitting a part of the puzzle he'd been looking for forever.
On top of that was the immense pleasure, of course. The incoherent pleas and whimpers leaving his lips were a testament of it.
He begged and pleaded and cried and whined and made every embarrassing sound known to man as you started to move. You'd given him a few moments to get used to it, asking if you could move (you only received a gasp and a pathetic nod as a response) before you began a pace so torturously good that it had Jungkook reconsidering his religion.
"S'so good ... fuck. Oh, god, fuck, it's so- ah! shit, f-fuck me," he babbled, literally drooling at the feeling.
He was so yours in this moment, it was ridiculous. Jungkook had always claimed himself as yours (and had even subconsciously saved himself for you), but this feeling simply solidified it. There was no reality in which he wasn't made for you. Made to receive and give all the pleasure from and to you.
At first, his brain could not even process the view above him, and he was glad for it. Because as soon as he could, he was a gone man.
You mirrored his reaction to a certain extent, gasping and furrowing your brows any time his dick would hit a specific part of you that gave you that extra hit of pleasure. Your back was arched and your pelvis glued to his own. The view was something Jungkook could never forget.
"Feel so good, Kookie, fuck ... How could you be worried when it's so fucking good ..." you sighed.
You rambled praise for him, aiding tenfold to the indescribable feeling of being with you in such a bare form. Jungkook was sure his orgasm was pathetically close, but he could not bring himself to even think of it. Not when his undoing was so unimaginably euphoric.
He had no way of warning you, instead writhing and gasping under you. It was an out of body experience, taking him to a place so high he wasn't sure he would ever come back down.
And then everything went dark.
He wasn't sure how long he was unconscious for, but by the time the convulsions ended and his heart rate went back down, you were already lying down next to him. Cuddled up next to him, your fingers ran up and down his chest in a softness he'd never experienced, accompanied by the occasional peck left against his skin.
"Love you," he mumbled when his words finally found him.
"You scared me!," you sat up a bit to face him better, "Are you back with me now? Did my pussy break you?"
You were joking, but Jungkook was almost entirely sure that was what had happened.
"How long was I out for?", he turned to face you, arm wrapping around you to pull you closer.
"Just a few minutes. Was that too intense?"
"Hah, no, just ... yeah. I've never felt something like that before."
"Well, now you get to feel it any time you want," you grinned at him with a peck to his lips.
"Hmm, yeah," he mumbled happily before a thought snapped him out of his post-coital daze, "Wait, fuck, did you cum?"
"Yeah. I was almost there, Kookie, don't worry. Just had to work myself a bit more after you passed out. No biggie," you reassured him.
Before he could protest, you shushed him with your hand hovering over his mouth.
"Don't whine about it. I literally came in my pants because of you. Consider that a win."
And that was that.
Jungkook decided to let it go and instead cuddle you to sleep, completely disregarding the rollercoaster this night had been. Nothing else really seemed to matter while he held you in his arms anyways. Especially due to the warmth of your bare skin against his own, just like he'd always wanted.
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to read short 1.8k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!
content: jk and reader being annoying and in their honeymoon phase, smut, afab reader, grinding, kissing, oral (m receiving), overstimulation, etc.
wc: 451 (teaser); 1842 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
"God, man, I heard about Sora. I'm so sorry," Joon began, "I didn't think she'd be so mean to you. She hounded me in the hallway just an hour ago about lying to her and setting her up with a loser — sorry, her words."
This caused you to groan in annoyance, cuddling further into Jungkook at the mention of the faceless girl you'd never met but had grown to hate.
Jungkook had let you in on all the details on what had happened upon further insistence from you. It was safe to say that he had to talk you down from jumping her in the hallway (he knew you'd never actually do such a thing, but the thought counted regardless).
"Ew, don't bring her up. Jungkook's never looked in another woman's direction ever. Right, Kookie?"
It was a little inside joke between you. After having defiled him, you'd developed some healthy possessiveness over him. He was over the moon about it, always playing into it.
Joon simply chuckled, rolling his eyes at both the joke and the sight of the two of you practically cuddled up on a bench in the middle of the quad. No sense or shame for being that annoying couple, nor any care for your other friends sitting across from you, already put off by you.
"It's true," Jungkook nodded, "And that shitty date ended up working in my favor in the end, so if anything, I should be thanking you," he added.
"Finally getting you to shut up about Y/N is payment enough," he walked over to the bench you'd been sitting at, with Taehyung and Jimin sitting to the other side of it.The two had quickly learned to disregard the two of you and your lovesickness for each other, "Now get off each other. No one needs to see you sitting on Jungkook's lap at 11:30 in the morning."
"We already tried. They literally kicked me off that side of the bench so she could lay on him," grumbled Jimin before giving his attention back to Taehyung.
You got up then, nose scrunching at Kook's whine at the sudden disconnect between you, "It's fine. We were just leaving anyway," you held out your hand for him to get up.
"Let me know when the honeymoon phase is over," jested Joon as he took the seat you'd emptied.
Already on your way to leave, you turned back with a smile, "You're just jealous that me and my boyfriend are in love!", Jungkook giggled at your loudness.
"Where are we going?", he asked as he followed you mindlessly.
"To get some privacy, baby. They don't tolerate real lovers here," you joked in a mockingly serious tone.
...
find the continuation on patreon!
if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3
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thewitchblue · 3 days ago
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"What are you doing?"
Damian asked you as you bandaged his wounds from patrol. You were knelt in between his legs with all the various medical supplies needed on a nearby table. You raised an eyebrow at him.
"Tending to your wounds? Giving Alfred a break from fretting over you?"
He pursed his lips at your sarcastic questions before clarifying,
"Why are you kissing the bandages?"
You looked confused for a moment before remembering nobody ever kissed his wounds or really even bandaged him. He was required to learn his own first-aid.
"My family kissed the bandages to 'seal the wound.' It's a stupid way to wish for you to get better soon."
Damian seemed hilariously sceptical about the tradition, but you continued to kiss each wound despite his confusion. He wouldn't say it, but he secretly savoured each kiss. The location didn't matter. Every injury location got a kiss and a loving smile. He said after a few more kisses,
"You don't have to kiss my wounds."
You gave an acknowledgement hum, before you said,
"Well, I want to. You are going to be dealing with this for as long as I'm yours. You deserve the love, my heart."
You gave his hands kisses. He tsked to hide his embarrassment. He had never experienced this before. This was the first time you offered first-aid after a mission. You figured it would be simple after watching Alfred do it for months.
Damian frowned but allowed you to continue. He was still not used to your overwhelming unconditional love and all the warm fuzzy feelings that come with you around even after a year of dating. You were the first one to make the move and the first one who continues to guide him through the world of love.
"I suppose I'll allow it."
He grumbled. You both could tell he wasn't disgruntled in the slightest. He was just acting grumpy in front of his family as a defence mechanism. He had no family to fight with before he was brought to his father's and still struggles with making ties. He struggles to trust his family, which you both are working through together. He struggles at times to feel familial love after going so long without it. Jason, his most common enemy, is in the area, cursing at every stitch Alfred put along his ribs.
Damian snickered slightly. It was a completely avoidable wound. Todd was sloppy in his defence, and Damian was too far away to deflect the blade. Jason asked gruffly,
"What are you laughing at, demon?"
You gave Damian a look that told him to play nice, but he didn't want to. You tightened your grip on his thighs to prevent him from moving towards Jason. Realistically, there was no way you'd be able to hold him back, but it was a reminder to stay still. Damian relaxed back under your hands, but he still wanted to bicker, so he replied coldly,
"If you weren't such a reckless oaf, you wouldn't be in this situation."
You gently wrapped your arms around him, which made Damian tense momentarily. He felt bad for not letting it go for your sake, but he wanted to defend his actions. Jason snickered now. He mocked,
"Are you on a leash now?"
Damian debated for a long moment to cut off his hands for daring to insinuate you are holding him back. You've been nothing but supportive and loving.
His hands twitch at his side, nearing his sheathed sword, but you took his hands in yours to prevent him from drawing his sword.
"He's not worth it, my heart."
He clicked his tongue in annoyance, but he relented. He didn't want you to see bloodshed over a sibling fight. He said,
"He's not worthy of my blade anyway."
You kissed him quickly and squeezed his hands lightly to show your gratitude for him dropping the metaphorical and literal sword. You always were good at calming him down while still making him feel like he wasn't broken for falling apart or exploding in anger.
He tried to fight off his smile, but he couldn't when he looked at you. He loved you with his entire heart. He's not one for PDA, but he was content with quick kisses and holding hands.
"You really are on a leash."
Jason snorted an amused laugh at his own words. Damian didn't particularly care that others knew how much he loved you. It was obvious to everyone. Damian scoffed and said,
"It's not a leash. It's called being loved, something you don't experience."
Jason looked ready to argue further, but Alfred gave them a disapproving glare that made them both shut up and drop the topic. You wrapped your arms around him.
"I love you."
You whispered it like a secret between you two with a growing smile on your face. Damian rolled his eyes at your antics. You are no secret. You are his, and he is yours. He grumbled as he pulled you to his chest,
"I love you, too."
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xetlynn · 3 days ago
Note
Can you do a vander x reader headcannons in the “every thing worked out.” AU from ep 7 and can it be happy stuff..i really need it ☹️
:)
Arcane Imagines- Vander Headcannons
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(I struggle so bad with headcannons I don’t know why)
[arcane] [main page]
Alt uni Vander’s love language is definitely acts of service or quality time with you. 
You need something done, he’s got it. You mention something that you forgot to do, he’s already done it for you silly. You hang out at The Last Drop just because you know he wants it. Whenever he’s finished with his job he will only hang around you. And then after his shift he drags out the night by asking questions he most likely already knew. He just wants to hear you talk and spend time with you. 
Alt uni Vander grew out his hair after you begged him to do so. You love playing with it, and secretly so does he. 
Alt uni Vander is super proud to show you off, along with his four children it’s basically all he talks about. 
Speaking of his children who are now adults, they are obsessed with you just like their dad is. They come to you with simple problems even though Vander is right there beside you. 
Alt uni Vander is super protective over you, it’s borderline possessive but you didn’t mind it. His excuse every time he scares off a guy is that his energy just seemed off. Something about him was weird. You’d laugh it off, giving him a kiss before going back to what you were doing.
Alt uni Vander who lets you and Powder do his makeup and hair whenever. Sometimes you guys force him to go out into town with it. You guys think it embarrasses him but he doesn’t care. He’s just happy to see his daughter and lover get along so well. 
Alt uni Vander is the first one to apologize in an argument surprisingly. Even if he’s in the wrong. 
Longest that man has gone without talking to you was 9 hours and that’s because he was sleeping. 
Alt uni Vander who gets touchy and extremely loving when drunk. Coming home after being out with Benzo and he lays on top of you dramatically whining that you haven’t given him enough attention. And once you get him to bed he’s clinging onto you, buff arms around you, one leg over top yours. It was a shock that you didn’t suffocate during the night. 
Alt uni Vander who observes you so closely to the point where you couldn’t hide a single thing from him. He knows when you lie, if your mood switches and when you are trying to keep something from him. It never lasts long. Calling you out after your little story time. Even the kids know not to tell you a secret because it will get pulled out of you by their dad. 
Alt uni Vander who is just a big ole softy fr. 
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hellobykittys · 2 days ago
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐈𝐌)𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍 ✦ 𝐂𝐋¹⁶
SUMMARY: Charles Leclerc, a Formula 1 star, faces the decline of his reputation after breaking up with art curator Alexandra Saint Mleux. Under pressure from his team, he is forced into a fake relationship with one of the most popular influencers of the moment. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. WC: 2.6k WARNING: enemies to lovers, teasing, fake relationship
MASTERLIST | NEXT PART
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The meeting room was lit by cold lights reflecting off an impeccably clean glass table. Charles Leclerc sat at the head, his chin resting on his hand, visibly bored. The tension in the air was thick, and he already knew this meeting wasn’t going to end well. Around the table, members of Ferrari’s PR team sat, along with Lorenzo Leclerc, Charles’ older brother and personal manager.
“Let’s get straight to the point,” Lorenzo began, crossing his arms. His voice carried the firmness of someone tired of useless discussions. “Charles, we need to talk about your reputation.”
Charles rolled his eyes, setting his phone down on the table.
“My reputation? You mean the circus the media makes out of everything I do?”
“It’s not a circus if you keep giving them material,” Sofia, Ferrari’s PR head, cut in. A woman with short hair and piercing eyes, Sofia was known for her blunt and impatient approach.
“Seriously?” Charles raised an eyebrow. “Now you want to control my personal life too?”
Lorenzo sighed, rubbing his temples.
“Charles, we’re not here to debate who’s right or wrong. We’re here because your image is directly affecting your career.”
“My career’s fine,” Charles shot back, crossing his arms.
Sofia slammed a folder full of tabloid clippings on the table, making a sharp noise.
“Is it? Because from what we see here, it doesn’t look like it. ‘Charles Leclerc spotted at a party until 5 AM with a mysterious model.�� ‘Ferrari driver involved in a new controversy after a fight at a club.’ This affects the sponsors, Charles. It affects the Ferrari brand.”
Charles leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face.
“Look, I get it. But what do you want me to do? Lock myself in my house?”
“Not exactly,” Sofia replied with a cold smile that made Charles immediately suspicious.
Lorenzo cleared his throat, trying to soften what was coming.
“Charles, we’ve come up with a solution that could help clean up your image quickly while you focus on what really matters: your performance on the track.”
“Great. So, what’s the plan?” he asked, clearly impatient.
Sofia leaned forward, clasping her hands on the table.
“We’re going to put you in a fake relationship.”
The silence that followed was so deep that you could hear the clock ticking on the wall. Charles blinked a few times, sure he’d misunderstood.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“We’re not,” Sofia replied, serious. “The idea is simple. We want to associate your image with a public figure who’s seen as positive, inspiring, and… balanced.”
“You want me to fake being in love with someone to save my reputation? This is ridiculous!”
“It’s not that simple, Charles,” Lorenzo tried to intervene. “We’re not asking you to fall in love. It’s a contract. An agreement. None of this has to be real.”
Charles laughed humorlessly, shaking his head.
“And who’s this poor soul you’ve hired for this?”
Sofia smiled, clearly expecting this question.
“Y/N.”
The name hit the silence like a shot. Charles frowned, trying to remember where he’d heard it. It didn’t take long before the girl’s face popped into his mind. She was impossible to ignore on social media, with her impeccable style, viral videos, and appearances at fashion and entertainment events.
“You’re talking about that… influencer?” he asked, incredulous.
“Not just any influencer. She’s the influencer right now,” Sofia corrected. “Everyone loves her. She’s elegant, charismatic, and has a solid fanbase. Associating with her will change the public’s perception of you.”
“You want me to fake dating a girl I barely know and who probably thinks race cars are just fancy toys?” Charles shot back, irritated.
Lorenzo took a deep breath, visibly trying to stay calm.
“Charles, no one’s saying it’ll be easy. But think of it as a strategy. Y/N isn’t just an influencer. She’s professional, ambitious, and has as much to gain from this as you do.”
“Great. So, she’s doing it for personal gain too,” Charles said sarcastically.
Sofia rolled her eyes.
“This isn’t about what she wants, it’s about what you need.”
Charles sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the table. The idea seemed absurd. He didn’t want to give up his freedom for some farce that, deep down, made no sense to him.
“You guys must be crazy if you think I’ll agree to this,” Charles declared, suddenly standing up. His voice echoed through the room, but no one seemed surprised by his reaction.
Lorenzo sighed, already expecting this kind of response. He knew his brother too well to think he’d accept something so outside his comfort zone without resistance.
“Charles, sit down,” Lorenzo said, his voice firm and authoritative. “You have every right to be angry, but if you keep acting like a spoiled child, you won’t get anywhere.”
“A spoiled child?” Charles laughed darkly, pointing at his brother. “This coming from you, trying to convince me to join this ridiculous show. It’s my life, Lorenzo! I’m not a puppet for you guys to manipulate.”
Sofia intervened, trying to stay professional, but her patience was clearly wearing thin.
“Charles, understand this: we’re talking about your career. It’s not just about you. It’s about the team, the sponsors, the thousands of jobs that depend on Ferrari’s success. Formula 1 is a business, and in this business, your image is as important as your driving skills.”
“My driving skills should be the only thing that matters!” he shot back, pointing to himself. “I’m a driver. That’s what I do. I’m not a celebrity who needs a fake romance to get attention.”
“Don’t be naive, Charles,” Sofia replied coldly. “In today’s world, public perception is everything. You could be the best driver on the grid, but if your image keeps getting tied to scandals, no one will want to invest in you.”
Lorenzo crossed his arms, looking at his brother seriously.
“You know she’s right. You don’t have to like the idea, but you have to accept that it’s necessary.”
Charles took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but the knot in his throat only tightened. He hated the idea of being seen as someone who couldn’t control his own life, but Lorenzo and Sofia had a point: the external pressure was becoming unbearable.
“Why her?” he asked, his voice a little quieter.
Sofia gave a slight smile, as though she’d been waiting for this question.
“Because Y/N is exactly what you need. She has an impeccable reputation, knows how to handle the media, and most importantly, knows how to play the game.”
“And how are you so sure she’ll agree to this?” Charles asked, crossing his arms.
“We’ve already talked to her,” Lorenzo revealed. “She agreed. Obviously, she has her conditions, but she’s willing to collaborate.”
Charles laughed, incredulous.
“Of course she agreed. She’s probably loving the idea of being associated with me. She’ll gain even more followers and the ‘Wag’ title. That must be her dream.”
“Don’t underestimate Y/N,” Sofia warned. “She’s far from being a superficial girl. If she agreed, it’s because she saw value in the proposal, just like we did.”
Charles fell silent for a moment, processing everything that had been said. He felt a mix of anger, frustration, and, in a way, helplessness. He hated being put against the wall, but he knew refusing wouldn’t solve his problems.
“And how long is this going to last?” he asked, his disgust evident.
“The contract is for a year,” Lorenzo answered. “Long enough to solidify the lie, but short enough not to be unsustainable.”
“And what if it doesn’t work?”
“It will work,” Sofia assured him confidently.
Charles let out a heavy sigh, running his hands through his hair.
“I hate you guys.”
“Feel free to hate us all you want,” Lorenzo replied, standing up. “But do what needs to be done.”
Sofia grabbed the folder and gave one last look at Charles.
“Y/N will be here tomorrow to talk officially. Hope you’re ready.”
With that, everyone began to leave the room, leaving Charles alone. He slumped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, trying to accept that, like it or not, his life was about to change.
The meeting room was spacious and well-lit, with glass walls offering a panoramic view of the city. Charles Leclerc was already there, on time this time, sitting next to the conference table in a relaxed yet attentive posture. He was casually flipping through a document, but his mind was elsewhere. The decision to accept the deal still felt surreal.
When the door opened, he lifted his eyes and saw Y/N entering with confident steps. She looked calm, self-assured. She wore a fitted blazer and pants that accentuated her confident posture. Her perfume reached him before her voice, subtle yet striking.
“Hope I’m not late,” she said, placing her bag on a chair and giving Charles a brief glance before looking away.
“You’re not,” he replied, giving a slight nod, observing her carefully.
Lorenzo and Sofia entered right after, carrying folders and an air of seriousness.
“Alright, now that everyone’s here, let’s get straight to the point,” Lorenzo began, taking his seat at the head of the table. “You both know how important this partnership is, both for the team and for your respective careers.”
“It’s not like we have much of a choice, right?” Y/N commented, not aggressively, but with a touch of realism.
“Not exactly,” Sofia answered, unfazed. “But we expect you to see the mutual benefit in this.”
Charles leaned his elbows on the table and glanced at Y/N for a moment before speaking.
“And you? What do you think of all this?”
Y/N blinked, surprised by the direct question, but maintained her composure.
“I think it’s… unexpected. But I won’t deny it’s an opportunity. And you?”
He tilted his head slightly, as if considering.
“I think it could work, as long as we follow a few rules.”
“Rules?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes,” he answered, with a slight smile. “Like, don’t try to kill me in front of the cameras.”
Y/N let out a short laugh, almost genuine.
“I think I can follow that.”
Lorenzo interrupted, trying to keep the focus.
“Great. Let’s start by clarifying expectations. You’ll need to attend events together, create interactions for social media, and above all, look natural.”
“Does that mean we need to get to know each other better?” Y/N asked, looking directly at Charles, this time with less provocation and more curiosity.
“Probably,” he replied, her eyes holding his for a moment longer than necessary.
Sofia cleared her throat.
“For that, we recommend starting with something simple. A dinner, maybe. Nothing formal, just so you get used to being together outside a professional setting.”
Y/N looked away, pretending to think, but there was something uncomfortably intimate about the idea.
“Seems fair,” she finally said, grabbing a pen to sign the contract placed in front of her.
Charles didn’t say anything but let the corner of his mouth curve into a slight smile. He grabbed his own copy of the contract and signed it right after her.
When they finished, Lorenzo looked at both of them.
“Perfect. From now on, you’re officially a couple.”
Lorenzo’s statement hung in the air like an uncomfortable reminder of what had just been signed. Y/N grabbed her bag, ready to leave, but hesitated at the door.
“Charles?” she called, without turning around.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t plan on complicating this, but I hope you do your part.”
Charles adjusted his watch nonchalantly, as if this kind of deal was something he had mastered.
“I always do.” A discreet smile formed on his lips. “But maybe we should establish a few rules to make sure it works.”
“It’s so nice to see you both so… invested!” Sofia interrupted, letting out a light laugh. “But I’ll leave the details to you two. Just don’t kill each other, please.”
Lorenzo stood up shortly after, giving his brother a nearly conspiratorial look before giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. When he said goodbye to Y/N, he smiled warmly, as if to say, “Good luck.”
Once the room was silent, Charles broke it with a casual tone.
“So, about those rules…”
Y/N crossed her arms, clearly determined to make everything crystal clear from the start.
“The first limit is simple: don’t touch or kiss me without prior notice.”
Charles raised an eyebrow, surprised, but entertained by her firmness.
“You do realize that’s basically what couples do, right? Touch, kiss, look close… How are we supposed to convince anyone we’re real if we’re so mechanical?”
“I never said it was forbidden,” she corrected, remaining calm. “I’m just saying, don’t do it without a reason or without letting me know first.”
He chuckled softly, tilting his head slightly.
“Do you really think I’m interested in anything beyond what this contract requires?” He stepped forward, not breaking eye contact. “What happened at the club was just an impulse, not a sign that I’m in love with you.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes, as if analyzing every word he said.
“Great. Then it shouldn’t be hard to keep your hands and lips off me.”
Charles opened his mouth to retort but stopped when he saw the look in her eyes. It was a clear challenge, with something more hidden behind that confidence.
“Of course,” he replied, finally curving his lips into a nearly provocative smile. “But I’ve got my conditions too.”
Y/N adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, unfazed.
“Alright, go ahead.”
“You have to attend my races whenever you can. And when you can’t, show support on social media. It’s the least I expect.”
She let out an incredulous laugh.
“I’m gonna be your fake girlfriend, not your number one fan.”
“As my girlfriend, you should show support. Isn’t that what girlfriends do? Plus, my fans will love it. It’ll be good for our image.”
Y/N rolled her eyes but knew he had a point.
“Fine, but I’ve got commitments too. Don’t expect me to be at every race.”
Charles shrugged, still with that annoyingly confident smile.
“It’s a start.”
Silence fell between them again, but this time it wasn’t heavy. It was as if both were evaluating the other, trying to figure out what was coming next.
Y/N adjusted her bag again and took two steps toward the door before stopping.
“One more thing, Charles.”
“What?” He raised an eyebrow, curious.
“If you want this to work, stop trying to always have the last word.”
He smiled, a mix of challenge and amusement.
“That’s asking too much.”
Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head before finally walking out of the room.
Charles stood there for a moment, staring at the door she had just walked through. There was something about her that made him feel intrigued, and he knew this story was far from simple.
Outside the building, Y/N got into the waiting car and took a deep breath. “This is going to be more complicated than I thought,” she mused as the driver started the engine.
Back inside, Charles picked up his phone and quickly sent a message to Lorenzo.
Charles: “If she thinks she can challenge me, this is going to be fun.”
On the other side, Lorenzo just laughed as he read the message.
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yournightmary · 3 days ago
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Vi NSFW!Alphabet
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content warning:: nsfw obviously, not proofread because it’s painful, badly written maybe idk?
AN:: i’ve had 42 hours on cai last week. i am not okay
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ she’s the sweetest. it’s like all of her tough girl walls are crumbling and she becomes a literal teddy bear. cuddling and talking is a must, a shower if you’re up for it.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ on herself she likes her arms the most, it’s a simple decision. it’s the strongest part of her body. she’ll stand in front of the mirror and just flex with a shit eating grin. also loves the way her muscles and veins pop out when she’s fingering you.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ on you- and i’ve already talked about this- she loves your thighs and ass. could not pick one or the other, they come as a package. she’ll kiss, bite and lick your thighs every time she goes down on you. and if you wear clothes that accentuate your curves? get ready to get your ass slapped every time she walks by you.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ i don’t think she’s a squirter. not matter how many times you try, how much water she drinks or the position- she just won’t. which is totally normal!! she does get really wet really easily though.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ she would really like it if you got a tattoo specifically for her. maybe her name or a few of those cogs she has herself. not so everyone could see it and know you’re hers, nuh uh- she’d want it to be somewhere hidden, like on your ribcage or low on your hips. just for her to see and know about it.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ she definitely missed out on a lot of things when she was younger, maybe had a few hookups or a prison wife along the way. she might stumble around, not really knowing what to do- but what she lacks in experience she makes up with enthusiasm.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ either something where she can see your face or see your ass, depends on what you want more in the moment. ideally though? cowgirl in front of a mirror so she can look at both of her those things.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ it all depends on the mood. you were play fighting and it turned into fucking? she’s giggling and throwing jokes left & right. you were away for some time and she finally gets to touch you? there isn’t a single word coming out of her mouth (other than praise maybe) because of how focused she is on making you feel good.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ HAPPY TRAIL.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ she’s not really the one to shave or even trim. she’s got good hygiene and it’s not like hair=dirty or disgusting. the hair is a darker than the one on her head, obviously, but it still has that fuchsia undertone.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ very, very romantic. it one of her ways to show you just how much she loves you, so she tries her best.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ she doesn’t really masturbate, which is surprising with how horny she is. if she’s really desperate and you’re away or not in the mood, she’ll just rub one out- nothing else.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ she’s not really that kinky… she does like to manhandle you a bit more than she would like to admit. it’s just the way she can turn you into putty (and that you trust her enough to do it) that gets her going.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ anywhere in your home. she isn’t really into the idea of getting intimate outside of her own space.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ everything and anything about you. just the idea that she’s the one making you feel this good, pulling those sounds out of you, that you trust and love her enough to do those things- it’s the best she could ask for. her goal in life is to make you happy and she will achieve it.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ she hates the idea of doing something to intentionally cause you pain. she hurt enough people in her life- she’s not gonna do it to you, even if you beg.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ she’s getting the ‘best carpet muncher’ award, no questions asked. she loves to give, doesn’t mind receiving. she gets messy with it- i’m talking kissing, licking and even slurping. if you’re up for it she’ll even properly fuck you with her tongue.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ she’ll give you whatever you want and she’ll give it good. to her it’s all about pleasing you, so her needs and wants go to the back of her mind.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ sure, why not? if any of you feel the need but don’t exactly have the time, she’s more than fine with it. she does like to take her time though, so they’re not more usual than normal sex
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ experiment- yes. take risks- ehh, not really. she doesn’t want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable by accident, so usually she’ll stick to what she knows. but if you want to try something she’s more than willing.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ do i even need to say anything? she can go at it until your legs are shaking, your face is stained with tears and there are no legible thought in your head. she herself doesn’t last very long. she was deprived of that kind of touch for so long that she can cum from the simplest things.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ she has a strap and she will not let you use it on her. she just doesn’t find that comfortable. maybe has a small bullet vibrator she received as a gag gift or bought out of curiosity- it’s for both you and her.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ oh my fucking god she’s such a tease. literally the book definition. loves to hear you beg and to see your hips chasing after her touch. but if you try to do the same to her? oh- she’s blushing and shying away from you.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ usually she tries to hold back her noises but does a shitty job at it. and when the strap comes in? she’s whining like she’s actually fucking you with her dick
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ in my head she is not a sub i’m so sorry guys. i just can’t see it. at all. she’s a switch leaning dom at best.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
⇢ ˗ˏ�� she is strapped the fuck up, you cannot convince me otherwise. but i feel like she would wait and buy the strap once she’s actually with you, just so you could pick exactly what you wanted. she chose the color though- it matches her hair.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ very high, but in a giving way, not receiving. she can do it all day, every day. not even letting you get out of bed.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ it all depends on the day. sometimes she’ll fall asleep right after taking care of you, sometimes she’ll stay up for hours cuddling and pillow talking with you.
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i’m a virgin
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corkinavoid · 2 days ago
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Or maybe they do wake Danny up once. Or, maybe they didn't wake him up, more like he was shuffling in his place, half-asleep, and one of the officers in the car went, "Do you think we should give him a blanket? I've got one in the trunk," and Danny froze.
Did they know he was here? Did they know all along?
He escapes without a trace that night, but after a few nights outside, he decides to risk it again. After all, no one seemed to be looking for him (GCPD was, actually, but very, very carefully as to not alert the Bats), and no white vans or GIW agents appear in the city, so, maybe it's okay?
He purposefully chooses a different car with different officers, and yet he still finds a blanket folded in the back and a few snacks. No note, nothing, just snacks, blanket, and the officers that don't turn around or address him even when he makes a few noises in the back - the wrapper of the chocolate bar they left for him is scrunchy.
So he stays. He still helps them out from time to time, and after a while, he even starts leaving notes - perks of being a ghost, he can sometimes talk to the deceased victims if their souls have not yet passed away.
GCPD fucking worships him. Commissioner Gordon eventually finds out (I think the officers tried to keep it on the down low, but after the notes started appearing, they couldn't really come up with a good enough excuse as to where they are getting the clues) and, after a few extensive talks with the most invested officers, he approaches the mysterious kid.
Not to reprimand or scold him, though. He writes a note for the ghost kid, asking if he could come to the morgue some time (because he figured a ghost could talk to the dead and that's way more productive than forensic science even if it doesn't provide as much solid evidence). Which is how Danny ends up with his own couch in the morgue - bizarre, yes, but he doesn't mind the cold and the dead bodies dont bother him (they are actually a little comforting, given his own state of being) and it's quiet and no one comes there without a good reason. He still sleeps in the back of the cop cars more often than not, but sometimes, he spends the night on the couch as well. It's softer.
And the whole GCPD keeps their mouths shut about him around the Bats. Thanks, but the local cryptid already has, like, a dozen kids. GCPD wants one of their own.
DPxDC Places To Sleep
I've seen many fics and prompts with Homeless Danny, and I've just had a thought: what's the safest place to sleep at night when you a) don't have a home, b) can turn intangible and invisible, and c) are not afraid of mortals' justice system since you're dead and it doesn't really apply to you?
Cop cars.
Cops patrol the streets at night, but really, they mostly just pick a place and stay there until something happens, right? (I mean, I think that's right, I'm not very educated on the matter)
So, say Danny is in Gotham, and he needs a place to sleep, but it's the most crime-ridden city in the world, and sleeping out in the streets is cold and uncomfortable. And sure, he can climb into any car, but he chooses the cop car because, first, it's got a radio, so if the cops get any alerts about him (you can't tell me that GIW wouldn't use the help of local police, they are government agents after all), he will hear it first. Second, it's warm and cozy and soft. Third, and the most important: no one is going to look for him there! It's like hiding in plain sight but even better.
Or, well, it is, until one night the cop car he is sleeping in gets dispatched to some crime scene along with about a dozen others, and it turns out to be some trafficking rink that got busted or whatnot, and there are a lot of people who need to be taken to the GCPD station. So Danny, sleepy and grumpy because he was suddenly woken up, searches for the first still running but empty car, while staying invisible and intangible, and when he finds it, he just crashes in the back seat.
He is very surprised a few minutes later when the motherfucking Batman jumps in the front seat, and at least three of his sidekicks are trying to squeeze themselves in the back.
The Bats are even more surprised when they find a random teenager flickering in and out of visibility in the back seat of Batmobile, his eyes wide as saucers and Lazarus green.
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livingsurreal · 2 days ago
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More thoughts and theories about our favorite Necromancer
My darlings, I have too many thoughts and my obsession is running wild. (How I missed you, hyperfocus). If you have read my last meta post about our Emmrich, here it is: First Meta Post
That is not a required read however. I am still wondering why anyone is reading my word vomit U_U
Anyway, I love reading other peoples theories, so please, send me yours. <3 And a lot of thanks and love for all you darlings who make this fandom such a beautiful and nice place. Especially to @jaal-ama-daravv - who makes the most beautiful videos, and writes such wonderful character studies.
Warning, from here on there will be spoilers as well as mentions of sex. If you don't want to read about any of that, do not read the rest.
Also pictures and way too many words. This is a ten page word document, save yourself while you can. I tend to go off on a tangent once I start writing. I am also well aware that not everyone will agree. This is just my personal read on Emmrich.
Now, after my first essay I have some more thoughts on Emmrich and Rook and specifically their intimate relationship.
Emmrich is such an interesting and baffling contradiction. On the one hand he is confident, self-assured, all manners and poise. He is smart, and he knows it. He has special gifts, and he knows it.  He is confident without being proud. He likes to teach others without being arrogant. He still likes to learn about new things and is, as far as I’ve seen, never judgmental about different beliefs and ways of life. (Unless someone treats him with disdain or bully him)
He is a man who is confident speaking of his thoughts and feelings and fears. How he just casually drops his thanatophobia is just astonishing. He is honest and open-minded in the best ways.
And then there is the other side of him. The wet kitten side of him. As open and honest as he is about his emotions, when we get to the meat of it, to the scary bit, the real feely bit, he locks up completely. As long as it is surface level (or he can pretend its surface level), everything is up for discussion. But once we reach deeper and touch *love* he gets so scared and refuses to admit and commit to his feelings. And as much *death* scares him, love scares him more.
So how does that influence his intimate relationship with Rook?
According to the banter with Lace “everyone knows about it”. He was rather surprised by that.
That tells us two things:
They were trying to be sneaky or at least keep their private business private.
They failed, massively.
Add to that Laces comment about them moving rather fast (when, where? I would have loved to have seen that. Comments like that just give me the feeling that we should have had some more cutscenes after the dinner date, to show us those two besotted fools).
But back to them moving rather fast. I would guess that they both did a lot of gazing lovingly at each other, blushing, spacing out while watching their darling, stollen kisses in the hallway when they thought no one was watching, stuff like that. Just being to besotted fools.
But moving fast usually includes sex. Lots of needy, sweaty sex. The inability to keep their hands of each other.
That moves us to the question of the day – did they have sex before their coffin time?
Let’s look at what we know about Emmrich. Emmrich is no virgin. That man has experience. He had past lovers. But what he tells us at that sweet diner date – “nothing serious for years.” We know not much else besides his crush on a boy in his youth and his fling with the Orlesian Art Lady. He is not someone to kiss and tell and that is appreciated. That man has class, and we love him for it.
So - nothing SERIOUS for years. If he hadn’t had ANY relationships in the past years, he would have said so. But what he says is that he did, in fact, have UNSERIOUS relationships in the last few years.
I would read that to be somewhere along the “fwb, lovers, affairs, paramours, companions, a fling, a little romance” line. Something not purely, but mainly physically driven. Someone you like and respect, you can go out and have a good time with, have lots of amazing sex with (b/c he is a living being and has his needs). Spending time with people he liked, was sexually attracted too, but nothing as serious as love. A physical relationship. A little thrill, some fluttering, but never that deep.
Not to say that those situationships would not have been romantic. He is (buried under all that resignation) a deeply romantic man. I am pretty sure he went on nice romantic dates with his previous paramours too. That this is something he just enjoys too much. Treating a companion with some quality time, not just in, but also out of the bedroom.
But after he’d given up on his dreams, he did not have any notion of those flings being more than a “enjoy the moment”. There was never the expectation of deeper feelings, beyond friendship, attraction and/or respect. All those romantic gestures were nothing more than a little bit of “play pretend”. To give himself the illusion of true romance, just for a little time.
Take the fact that you can go a “everything you do is creepy but I still flirt with you and I want you to throw me over that tombstone” and his comment on “the attraction of the forbidden”? This is not a relationship born of mutual respect and deeper feelings but out of purely physical attraction. And he is OK with that.
I want to repeat – Emmrich is very much okay with a casual, sexual affair. He does not require love to have a relationship with someone.
And then think about that Johanna calls Rook specifically his “paramour”. Which is a lover, especially an illicit one. This word was very specifically chosen by Johanna. For various reasons, I would think.
For one, I do believe that it is a dig at his dreams of the eternal flame. It’s a dig at him, that Rook is not his love, but his paramour. A lover for a time. To be parted from soon enough. B/c that silly dream of his, as if it ever would become reality.
Second, I think it is a comment on the way his relationships often went, especially in the past years. Those unserious flings of his. Never to amount to anything substantial.
Did he try to have something serious in the past? Oh yes, for sure. But it never worked out. Then he gave up his dream and just let himself have a good time with people he found to be nice and attractive.
To pick up my point of self-sabotage from my last meta post – I’ve come to a point where I believe Emmrich is a kind of chaser. I know someone like that and it’s so fucking tragic.
Emmrich feels deeply and strongly. When he falls in love with someone it’s a lot of emotion. But at that point it’s all dream, want, wish. As soon as someone returns these feelings - those dreams, wants and wishes become reality. And reality is scary. In this wishful dream about the eternal flame, there is no fear. No fights. No loss. But that is not reality. As soon as it becomes reality, he gets scared. Before, his feelings were no threat, because you can’t lose what you don’t have. Once those feelings are returned, there is a clear possibility of losing, of being lost, of being left behind.
Emmrich is not a chaser because he enjoys the hunt. He is a chaser because being loved by someone is scary. So damn scary. So, he starts to pick fights and is looking for excuses. From being the chaser, he becomes the chased. He is hunted by his fears, and his fight or flight instincts go all flight.
After years of this cycle he gives up. Resigns himself to flings and little romances without even thinking of more. Or so he thinks. Dreams like that don’t die, they just get buried.
And I’d think that there was not many, even of those short term flings, lately. His life revolves around work and Manfred.
Now remember he comments on Rook “showing unexpected interest in a new companion”.
First of all – unexpected.
They are a daring adventurer. He thinks of himself clearly as the more boring one, compared to Rook. He never expected any of those flirts. But he is clearly flattered.
Second – companion.
That was such a weird way of saying “hey do you like me?”. This whole “companion” thing does not scream “I have FEELZ for you/you have FEELZ for me” but rather, “I think you might want to spend some quality time with me”.
The possible answers - dashing good looks, kindness, his way of words.
He feels he is fortunate if Rook thinks him good looking. Hallo, Mr. Professor, sir… Have you looked in the mirror lately? Consider that he is meticulously grooming himself, takes his exercises daily in the morning. That man does not like himself aging. I think it is a reminder of how his pending death is a step closer every day. But it shows, to him, that his efforts of taking care of himself are not in vain. Or maybe it shows him that his age does not matter. Rook finds him attractive despite (or because) of his physical age.
Rooks comment on his very charming way of putting things makes him hope his years behind the lectern have proved useful. Hey *years* behind the lectern. Again, this is a way of saying his age is NOT a problem but a benefit.
If Rook remarks his kindness, he answers “you humble me”. It’s the one answer that does not touch his age/experience/looks. It’s a remark on an innate character trait he possesses. Kindness. His whole demeanor in this option shows he is actually touched. And maybe a bit baffled. He did not expect this, at all. Its like he sees his kindness not as an attractive trait. Which he should. He is nice without TM and its sexy as hell.
The next part is his statement “If your attentions go beyond charming flattery… that would interest me, indeed”. This reads to me not necessarily as “do you have feelings for me” but as “do you just enjoy the flirting, or do you want to do more than flirting?”
And oh boy, does he want to do more than flirting. I want to repeat my earlier statement – this man has given up on love. But some little fling with an exiting young adventure who was constantly, awkwardly flirting with him? Hell, yeah.
(I want to remind you that we were able to have mutually enjoyed flirts with Dorian as fem!Inky. You can flirt with someone and still never want to fuck them. And you are also perfectly able to want more than flirting without having deeper feelings. Like sweet, dump Shepaloo said it so eloquently “Lets bang, okay?”)
Again, I want to pick up a point of my last post, that this is all surface level thoughts. I do believe that their emotional attraction and depth of feelings go deeper, from the start. But how often does it take quite a bit of time to realize one’s own feelings. Especially this wonderful, silly man whose modus operandi is running away.
Now, an interested Rook can answer in an open “lets see where this goes” way. Mirroring his rather open idea of a little romance, a fling, some quality time. Something that does not have to end in an eternal flame, but a simple enjoyment and exploration of the moment.
Rook can also reply with a “I think they do.” – What Rook actually says is “I think they already…”
And conveniently Rooks answer here is cut short by our sweet boy Manfred. They get cut short, no matter what answer you choose, but in this specific case, I am convinced this was very much on purpose. What would the whole sentence have been?
“I think they already go way beyond flattery.” (?!?) Something along those lines. But that goes into danger zone. WAY into danger zone.
If Rook had finished that sentence, at that point in their budding romance? It would have been over before is all started. Too much, too soon. Too much for him, period.
Now we have the hard lock – their sweet romantic moment in the Memorial Gardens. And he is smitten. He fell hook, line, and sinker for his own play pretend. Just a little romance, but that man is falling, fast. (Not that he would admit that to himself).
A beautiful date, all arranged by Emmrich, to spend time with Rook. Because a couple should have a quite moment to get to know each other. I mean there were menu cards with gilded edges, ffs. And, oh yes, they were “lets dig into the feelings”, he said couple. He is falling, falling, falling fast. But it still hasn’t hit him, how deep he has fallen for his darling Rook. Poor Emmrich.
Then a fight, where we really see the wet kitten side of him for the first time. A little wet, feral kitten, hissing at the hand that’s trying to feed it.
Emmrich is lashing out for no good reason (or no good reason for anyone but himself). There is no real confidence there but a desperate act of pretending. An iron (slipping) grip, trying to control himself and the narrative. Shoulders squared, back straight, an arrogant stance, raised chin, turned half-away from Rook, and a condescending way of talking to Rook.
Like I said in my last post – he is working his way up to breaking up with them. And he tells himself it’s like ripping off a bandaid. Be strong and confident and say what you have to say, and they will see the wisdom of that.
It’s only that, they don’t. Because there IS NO wisdom in what he is doing right now. They don’t take his bullshit but throw it back at him. They don’t accept his mock excuses.
Look at him here, how he looks down ON them. I can’t recall any other time he looks down on Rook, despite him being a tall king.
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Especially the route where Rook throws it in his face that he DOES in fact love them. Speak what he can’t even think.
“I can’t… At my…”
“I can’t love you. At my age…” Why not? Does he not deserve love, just because he is a bit older? It’s just heartbreaking how he views himself.
And again, he lashes out.
“I am perfectly serious.” So is Rook.
“One of us has to pay attention to these things.” As if Rook is not paying attention. They got to the meat and bones of his problem in just a few seconds.
No matter what route you go here, the gist is the same. He is scared shitless, treats Rook like a child, and goes on how the is the only one thinking the important thoughts.
When Rook in reality way ahead of him. They thought about it and came to the conclusion that being with Emmrich is a really good idea.
Rook knew they were falling for someone older than them. (Even if that age difference is just a decade, with a mid-40s Rook.) They knew it, and still went with it. They are not a child who is too inexperienced and stupid to make decisions about their (love) life.
But now, here, at this moment? Emmrich treats them with disdain. Like a silly little person, who does not think things through. He holds himself above them. Physically and mentally. They are too young, he knows better.
And not once has he done that before. He always treated them as an equal. He follows them into the most dangerous situations ffs. He trusts them with his life in a fight against would-be gods.
All that fear and anger at himself that reaches a new high get redirected at Rook.
The next day they are off to Tearstone Island. That night must have been hell. For both of them. But its going to get much much worse.
In any case, Emmrich seems to have come to some conclusion or realization, because on that island? He apologizes.
They both did react very emotionally, but he came at Rook with superiority and, to a certain degree, dishonesty. All fueled by his fear. So that he is the one to take the first step and apologize to Rook instead of doubling down? An important step. As I said in my last post – he NEEDED to be called out. A sweet and nice counterargument would not have had the impact Rooks raw an honest emotion hat on him.
Emmrich “Rook? Darling? I wanted to say-“
Rook “Yeah, about that argument…”
Emmrich “(Sighs) It’s no time to apologize, is it?”
And here we have the most heartbreaking line, in hindsight. “We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.”
(Narrator: but they would, in fact, not talk about it back home. Because someone would not go home.)
One fight and weeks of horror later, they find themselves in a private crypt and finally they do more than share a kiss.
Now - to the point I originally wanted to explore with this post – is this in fact their first time? (I am sorry, but my brain is a circle and nothing makes sense)
Let’s look at what evidence we have from the cut-scene.
Rook did not know he is an early riser.
That leaves two possibilities:
They never had sex up until that point.
They did have sex, but never spent the night together.
Now what does that mean?
This depends a lot on your personal Rook and how they feel about sex in general. If Rook wants to wait, or is not ready, he will absolutely accept and respect that.
But for the sake of this analysis lets go with the idea that Rook is not opposed to sex at an earlier date.
They never slept with each other
Why? He clearly was not opposed to casual relationships in the past. What would hold him back now? Especially if you recall Laces comment about them moving fast. Why not jump into the bedroom?
Now my first crack theory is that they get interrupted, like every time. (Rook interrupted The Dread Wolf, and now he cursed them to always be interrupted when they want to have some private time)
But now, in all seriousness, maybe it’s just that part of him DOES realize that this goes beyond a very unserious relationship. That they both have deeper feelings, that spark of something greater, something beautiful.
So, he holds back. He does not give his all. He is charming, he is flirty, he takes Rook on dates. But it’s all very technical. Very performative. Yes, he is a very romantic man, yes he enjoys those moments. But there is always a feeling of control.
Those moments when you see him let go a bit (that kiss beneath the eternal lovers, “I think, sometimes you indulge me”), are so beautiful and you glimpse a bit of the man behind those walls.
He has a tell, you see. (I am telling you about it further down)
But generally, he feels very much in control of himself. And to lie with Rook? To go all the way? Too dangerous. Who knows what happens in that sweet moment after la petit mort? What secrets would his lips spill?
2. They slept together, but did not spent the night together.
They do have sex, but sleep alone in their own beds. Casual sex is fine, but to fall asleep in each other’s arms? Too much. Too real. Sex okay, but sleepy post coitus cuddly? Woah, slow down your horses.
So, they have sex, preferably in Rooks bed. First, does he even have a bed? Second, it’s way easier to leave Rooks bed after the act, than throwing them out afterwards.
Oh, and how many reasons he has. Rook needs their uninterrupted sleep; they are stressed and must have proper rest. He wants to get some reading done before he retires. He needs to look after Manfred.
Oh, he is a bad liar, for sure. He is lying more to himself than to Rook. I would think that (if this is the build up to their fight) Rook realizes that he is giving poor excuses.
And the sex itself? A technical 10/10. He knows his anatomy, after all. But his heart is not really in it. He can’t allow himself to. He holds back, keeps a tight lid on his emotions. They both are well spent afterwards, but like so much else, it’s performative. Technically very well executed, but rarely do you see HIM, the real him, behind all that performance. Whenever something slips through, he reels back and closes up.
And then we are in that crypt. Rook was gone for weeks. The last thing they said that night before were words of anger. Rook called him out on his feelings and from that point on there was no possible way of lying to himself anymore. Those feelings were there. They were real. Rooks feelings were real. And those weeks spent in desperation, trying to  get them back? Those walls came crashing down.
His true face, when all the walls are gone? You see that face when Rook leads him to the coffin. There is no pretense anymore. No performance. Just him, and all his love for Rook. The amount of emotion the animation team packed into those short moments in the cutscene? Mindblowing. Who ever crafted that expression on his face? They are the GOAT. I watch this part of that scene on repeat, and it never gets old.
So, I told you about how he has a tell, yes? Okay, two actually, but we all know surprised pikachu Emmrich. In that last scene it is resolved in the most beautiful way.
He looks down, when something touches him deeply, when he goes into his feels.
A few (way to many) examples:
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And the worst wet kitten look? After the fight, when Rook leaves.
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Its a look of shame. Of hurt. This man is hurting so badly.
Now here at the end we have that moment when Rook leads him to the coffin. His face turns down, like before. But here he looks up at Rook. He does not turn his eyes away but looks directly at them. Ahhh my heart.
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Now, think about the fact that ROOK is leading in that moment?
In those moments where Rook leads or startles him (or is simply annoying enough so that the truth slips out), you see the most emotion from him.
Rooks flirting startles him, and he has a pikachu face reaction every time.
Their first kiss? Rook leans against the monument, and leans up, telling him without words that NOW is the time for a kiss. How can he not go for a second kiss?
That moment when Rook calls Manfred “our son”? He very conveniently ignores the word “OUR” and goes in defense mode over the word “son”. But called out on his feelings for Manfred? How can he deny them? He has tears in his voice when he says how he would not exchange this moment for anything? A real, deep emotion.
In their fight Emmrich is again all technical, all performance, so logical (or what he sells himself as logic). But Rook wrestles that moment from him and takes lead, calls him out on his bullshit.
In the crypt Rook pulls him up into a kiss and then leads him to the coffin, guiding him, taking him with them.
Most of the other times he takes the lead, very much in control. But the most emotions you get from him, are those times Rooks leads, when he lets go of this tight control over himself, or he is startled in to a reaction. For all the age difference that is played up in their relationship, in the important moments Rook is the one who guides. And he follows where they lead.
Those little moans he makes? If they did have sex before, I bet he did not make those sounds then. Where they did have some incredible sex, now they are making love. Open, vulnerable. He gives in.
And then they fall asleep together. Skin to skin, arms and legs intertwined. Their hands caressing, no sound but that of their heartbeats and soft breaths. Pure and utter contentment. In that moment nothing exists but them. Can you imagine that moment he woke up? The amount of emotions he must have felt then? This need to speak those little words? Those huge little words. He does not say them, not yet. But he is almost ready.  
Finally, they stand there, on the battlefield of Elgar’nans madness. And he tells Rook. The last wall falls. Gives the most precious thing he can give to anyone.
“I love you.”
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rafeskai · 2 days ago
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Opposite — Rafe Cameron
Part Two
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She looks nothing like me So why do you look so happy?
Summary: After seeing her ex-boyfriend Rafe Cameron happily flirting with his new girlfriend Sofia at a party, the reader confronts the painful reality that Sofia is everything she’s not—quiet, effortless, and seemingly perfect for him.
Pairings: ExBF!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: None
A/N: Y'all really wanted part two, I had to deliver :)
First Part Here
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It had been six months since that night at the Kook party, six months since you’d finally walked away from Rafe Cameron. It hadn’t been easy, but you’d found something you didn’t think you’d feel again: peace. Or at least, something close to it.
Your new boyfriend, Noah, had been a big part of that. He was different from Rafe in every way—kind, steady, and, most importantly, honest. He never made you feel like you weren’t enough, never looked at you like he was waiting for someone better to come along.
So when he invited you to dinner at a cozy waterfront restaurant, you thought it would be another perfect evening. The two of you sat at a table on the deck, the ocean breeze sweeping through your hair as the sun dipped below the horizon. You were mid-laugh at one of Noah’s terrible jokes when your eyes caught movement across the patio.
And then you saw him.
Rafe.
He was sitting at a nearby table with Sofia. Her laughter rang out, soft and melodic, as she reached across the table to touch his hand. Rafe leaned back in his chair, his signature smirk plastered across his face.
Your stomach twisted painfully. You hadn’t seen him since that night, and now, here he was, looking as infuriatingly perfect as ever. His gaze shifted, almost like he could sense you staring, and for a brief, agonizing moment, your eyes locked.
He froze, his smirk faltering as recognition flickered across his face.
“Hey, you okay?” Noah’s voice pulled you back to the present.
You tore your eyes away, forcing a smile as you turned to him. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
But you weren’t. Not when you could feel Rafe’s gaze lingering, not when you could still hear Sofia’s laugh cutting through the air like a knife.
The rest of dinner was a blur. Noah kept the conversation light, unaware of the storm raging inside you, but you couldn’t focus. When the check came, you excused yourself to the bathroom, desperate for a moment to breathe.
You had barely made it to the hallway when a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.
“Y/N.”
You turned slowly, your heart pounding. Rafe was standing there, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his expression unreadable.
“What do you want, Rafe?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.
He hesitated, his blue eyes scanning your face like he was searching for something. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Yeah, well, neither did I,” you said, folding your arms across your chest.
Rafe took a step closer, and you instinctively took one back. He frowned at the distance. “You look... good.”
“Save it,” you snapped. “I’m not interested in whatever game you’re playing.”
“I’m not playing a game,” he said quickly, his voice low but urgent. “I just... I needed to say something.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms tighter. “What could you possibly have to say to me, Rafe? We’ve already been down this road.”
“I screwed up,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“I screwed up,” he repeated, louder this time. “I pushed you away because I was too much of a coward to deal with my own crap. I thought... I thought being with someone easy would fix things. But it didn’t. It doesn’t.”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, the raw honesty in his voice throwing you off balance.
“Rafe...” you began, but he cut you off.
“I see you with him,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “And I can’t stand it. I hate that he gets to make you laugh like that, that he gets to hold you, to love you. It should’ve been me.”
You shook your head, the tears stinging your eyes. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to come here and say these things after everything.”
“I know,” he said quickly, stepping closer again. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I... I miss you, Y/N. Every day.”
The sound of footsteps behind you made you turn. Noah was standing at the end of the hallway, his brows furrowed in confusion.
“Everything okay here?” he asked, his gaze flicking between you and Rafe.
You wiped at your eyes, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
You brushed past Rafe without another word, grabbing Noah’s hand as you walked back to the table. But as you left the restaurant, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Rafe’s eyes on you, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest.
Even as Noah laced his fingers with yours, offering the kind of steady warmth you knew you deserved, part of you couldn’t help but look back.
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 The drive home with Noah was quiet, the silence in the car thicker than usual. You stared out the window, the streetlights flashing by in a blur, but your mind was stuck in that hallway, with Rafe’s words looping endlessly in your head.
“I miss you. Every day.”
Noah must have noticed your distraction. He reached over, placing a comforting hand on your thigh. “You’ve been quiet since we left. You sure you’re okay?”
You hesitated, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I’m fine,” you said softly, though the words felt hollow.
When Noah dropped you off, he kissed your forehead and promised to call you in the morning. As his car pulled away, you stood on your porch, staring at the empty street. The quiet of the night pressed in, but your thoughts were anything but calm.
Rafe’s voice haunted you. His confession had cracked something open inside you, something you’d buried deep to protect yourself.
It wasn’t fair. You were happy now. Weren’t you?
But deep down, you knew the truth. You hadn’t been happy—not completely—since Rafe.
With a shaky breath, you unlocked your door and stepped inside. You barely made it to the couch before your phone buzzed. For a moment, you thought it might be Noah, checking in again. But when you looked at the screen, your heart dropped.
Rafe: I know I shouldn’t have said anything. I just needed you to know.
You stared at the message, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. You knew responding would only complicate things, but your heart had other plans.
You: Rafe, I can’t do this right now.
His reply came almost instantly.
Rafe: Please. Just give me five minutes. If you don’t want to talk after that, I’ll leave you alone.
You closed your eyes, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. Against your better judgment, you typed out a response.
You: Fine. Five minutes.
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Rafe was on your doorstep less than fifteen minutes later. He looked hesitant, his usual confidence replaced with something you rarely saw in him: vulnerability.
“You really don’t waste time, do you?” you said, your arms crossed as you leaned against the doorframe.
He gave a weak smile. “Didn’t want to give you a chance to change your mind.”
You stepped aside, letting him in. The air in the room was heavy as you sat down on the couch, leaving a noticeable gap between you.
“Talk,” you said, your tone guarded.
Rafe leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. For a moment, you thought he might not say anything at all. But then, he took a deep breath.
“I’ve been an idiot,” he began, his voice low. “I thought I could move on, that being with Sofia would make me forget you. But it didn’t. Nothing does. I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to you for months, but every time I tried, I just... froze.”
You stayed silent, your arms tightening around yourself.
“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “And I know I don’t deserve a second chance. But I’m asking for one anyway.”
You looked at him, your heart aching at the raw emotion in his eyes. “Why now, Rafe? Why wait until I finally moved on?”
“Because I’m a coward,” he admitted, his gaze meeting yours. “I was scared of how much I needed you. But seeing you tonight, with him... it made me realize I can’t keep pretending. I love you, Y/N. I never stopped.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and overwhelming. You felt tears prick at your eyes, but you fought them back. “You don’t get to do this,” you whispered. “You don’t get to break me and then come back like this.”
“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to fix it. I’ll wait as long as you need. Just tell me there’s a chance.”
The tears finally spilled over, and you turned away, wiping at your face. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to let you go? To try and move on?”
“I do,” he said softly. “And I hate myself for putting you through that. But I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”
You looked back at him, your chest tightening as you saw the sincerity in his eyes. You wanted to stay strong, to protect yourself from the pain he’d caused. But the truth was, you still loved him.
You always had.
With a shaky breath, you closed the gap between you, your hands trembling as you reached for his. “If you hurt me again, Rafe... I won’t survive it.”
His hands enveloped yours, warm and steady. “I won’t. I promise, I won’t.”
He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t. When his lips finally met yours, it felt like coming home. The kiss was soft and full of unspoken promises, his hands cradling your face like you were something fragile, something precious.
When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “I love you,” he whispered.
You closed your eyes, letting the words wash over you. For the first time in months, the ache in your chest began to ease.
“I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe in a future where love didn’t have to hurt.
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© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.
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2cool4ghoul · 3 days ago
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I'm on Fire
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Long time no see, eh?
sorry for my prolonged period of absence, I got shit going on!!!!
This is my first time writing for Joel Miller, I hope everyone enjoys, maybe it could be a two parter if people r feeling it! I haven't edited this because honestly who has time for that?
Summary: Reader asks for help with being taught hunting, gets stuck with Joel, who she thinks hates her, but we all know how that ends? Reader grew up in a cult situation where girls r taught they need to repopulate the earth after the outbreak and thinks sex is just for baby making, Joel wants to show her it could be more. I been listening to I'm on fire by bruce Springsteen and that song inspired this.
Warning: under 18 DNI! age gap not specified but allusion to it being gargantuan and ludicrously capacious, Smut, unprotected p in v (do I need to say it? WRAP IT), fingering, oral f receiving, slight daddy kink, doing it from behind, Joel is kinda mean, perv Joel, allusions to masturbation, innocence kink, religious imagery?, mentions of pregnancy, kinda public I guess, post outbreak, can be game Joel or Pedro Joel, any Joels a goal, no use of y/n, reader is female gendered, pussy pronouns, size kink if you squint, Praise kink, yearning, Joel feeling guilty and sorry for himself , boohoo, if I miss anything please tell me!!!! I love feedback!!
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You had been walking for hours.What was meant to be a simple hunt had now turned into aimlessly walking through the forest, staring at Joels back as he stalked in front of you. He refused to admit that he had gotten the two of you lost in the midst of chasing a rabbit, or a deer, or whatever it was he says he saw. When you did suggest heading a different direction, you were met with a sharp rejection, or a grunt telling you to keep your mouth shut. You knew he was angry before you’d even left, saddled with the burden of dragging you along with him. 
You didn’t particularly know Joel and you didn’t particularly like him either. His stand-offish demeanour and deep glare whenever you were around made you feel small in his presence. You had given up on the smiling and politeness that you gave everyone else in an attempt at self preservation, yet deep down you so badly wanted him to like you. You weren’t sure what you did and at what point you did it, but Joel made it very evident that he’d much rather be torn to shreds by infected, than teach you the basics of hunting. Which, with the sun becoming low and darkness threatening to spill over into the sky, you thought maybe he didn’t know the basics of hunting either. 
Frustrated, you huffed whilst adjusting your backpack on your shoulders, rolling your eyes slightly as he stopped to try and grasp any familiarities in your surroundings. “What’s got you all huffy and puffy?” He quipped, not even bothering to look over his shoulder at you.
“I am tired, Joel, we’ve been walking for hours now, I want to go home.” Sighing, your head fell back on your shoulders and he carried on walking.
“If I remember correctly, this was your bright idea, was it not?” His fists clenched at his side and you furrowed your brows.
“It was, when I thought I’d actually be able to learn something, I thought you were meant to be good at this-“
“I am good at this, you’re scaring ‘em all away, with your bitchin’ and moanin’” You’d obviously bruised his ego a bit there, yet the reaction you’d gotten was the most exciting thing that had happened all day. 
Well, that and being able to watch him closely whilst he furrowed his brow, focusing down the barrel of a gun. Laying on the ground next to him, so close that you could nearly smell the musk that seemed to radiate off of him. Yes, you didn’t particularly like him, but looking at him? You liked that very much. You liked the way his arms looked when he rolled up the sleeves of his flannels. The way he looked when he started the day, fresh out the shower with his greying hair slicked back and slightly damp. The way his voice was low when he was trying to teach you a lesson. The way he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes when you made a joke, a suggestion, or even just breathed. Seeing all of this things was enough to put a pit in your stomach, a pit that you’d been carrying around all day with little idea what to do about it. It ached and it throbbed. 
“Well maybe in your old age, your losing your touch.” You said it quiet, thinking that he wouldn’t hear you. But he did. He responded with a scoff, clenching his fists again. He wasn’t even going to dignify it with a insult back, his reaction alone was enough to make you feel insufficient. You both retreated to the silence and you kept yourself to your thoughts on how you were going to deal with the ache between your thighs.
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Night had fallen and Joel had still not managed to find your way home. Instead you’d found an old shack, barely together but good enough shelter to sleep for the night. Joel figured it was tomorrow’s problem, that and he couldn’t be bothered to listen to your complaints about how tired you were.
The dim glow of the campfire lamp created a yellow cast over Joels features and you couldn’t help but stare as he sat opposite you, eating a sandwich you’d given him earlier in an attempt to lift his spirits. His features were rough and frown lines had been permanently etched into his skin. This life had worn him down, toughed him up like leather. Maybe that was why he was mean to you. Maybe he’d ran clean out of kindness. His large hands made whatever he was holding look small, they were calloused and scarred across his knuckles. You didn’t want to imagine what things those hands had done. But you did want to imagine what they could do. Running over your skin, fingertips grazing your lips, leaving goosebumps and a shiver down your spine. Grabbing at your skin, creating bruises and marks, his fingers, thick and strong, spreading you open and filling you-
“The fuck are you lookin’ at?” Gruff and fed up, Joels voice snapped you right out of the darkest corners of your mind, your eyes widening slightly as you realised you had obviously been staring, eyes hazed over.
“I, uh, I was looking at my sandwich, I don’t think you deserve it.” Nice save, you praised your self internally and he raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you were some stupid insignificant thing.
“How come I don’t deserve it?” 
“We caught nothing today, you didn’t teach me shit.” You tried your best to mimic the facial expression he was pulling, hoping that just maybe you could make him feel how he did. 
“Hmm.” He grumbled after putting the last bite in his mouth. “’s'all gone now.” There was almost a smirk playing on his lips, his gaze making you squirm and squeeze your thighs together. What was happening to you? It felt like every fibre of your being was betraying you, begging for you to climb over to him and beg him to take you whatever way he wanted. “What’s the deal with you anyway?” 
“With me?” Taken aback, you went slightly rigid, why would he want to know anything about you? He hated you, he made it perfectly clear. He nodded, eyes narrowing as if he was trying to work you out. “What do you mean?”
“Well, why do you want to learn to hunt? And don’t you have some boyfriend around to teach you?” This was the most he’d spoken to you all day, and he had you spluttering on the sip of whatever you’d just taken. 
“I want to hunt so I can be useful,” you coughed out, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt to look casual, “and no I don’t have a boyfriend to teach me, so I suppose you’re just gonna have to put up with me for now.” Shaking your head, you tried at being playful, but it still didn’t crack his prying exterior.
“Pretty young thing like you, ‘bound to have ‘em falling at your feet.” It was said as almost a passing comment, but your shock was visible on your face, blinking and biting your lip trying to make up a response that was witting and defensive but you couldn’t.
Before you’d scrambled your way to Jackson, alone and bewildered, you had grown up in a cult, whose goal was primarily to restart civilisation. They’d taught how it worked, making babies and all that, and for a while you were happy playing the part, letting your father chose a man, who would be forced with the task of putting as many babies as he could inside you. You endured, what felt like a chore, with your partner, watching your friends fall pregnant. Your inability to fall pregnant was what made you run in the first place, hearing of what they did to the girls who could birth a child had frightened you, fearful that you’d be reduced to another mouth to feed. A drain on resources. So with all of that in mind, finding a boyfriend was never something that crossed your mind, nor was it something you greatly desired. But with Joel sat in front of you, legs spread with his thick thighs in your direction, you felt strings inside you being pulled that had previously been untouched.
“You think I’m pretty?” You swallowed, maintaining eye contact with him for a moment, trying to catch a hint of softness. 
“I think you’d be doin’ better tryin’ to find a nice young man,” He adjusted his position and met your gaze, “rather than spendin’ the night in and old shack with’an old man like me.” This was him trying to be nice you thought, but it was having the opposite effect. It made you defensive and you narrowed your eyes.
“Oh because I’d be better off finding a man-” 
“You’re puttin’ words in my mouth.” His interruption was calm, yet stern, shaking his head at you and rubbing his face with his hands. He’d succeeded in silencing you as you looked down at the ground in front of you, slightly embarrassed.
“I’ve had a boyfriend, or a lover, I don’t know what to call him,” You avoided him, you had no idea why you felt the need to be vulnerable, “and I don’t know what the whole big deal is, y’know?” You sighed, cheeks flushing a bit pink. “I don’t understand why someone would put themselves through that.”
“Through what?” He leaned forward slightly, curiosity shadowing his face in the dim light. Finally you lifted your head, showing him your red cheeks.
“That.” You hoped he understood your insinuation. And due to the sudden rigidness of his body recognised that he understood. He pursed his lips for a moment and then opened them as if to speak, yet nothing came out. Embarrassment was flooding your body, you regretted even bringing it up due to the sudden tension in the air. And there was that pit in your stomach again, aching and throbbing as you watched him stumble over words to say.
“Because it feels good.” Was all he could stifle out, watching your reaction carefully as your knitted your brows, screwing your face up in confusion slightly.
“Maybe for the men,” You scooted up onto your knees, looking up at him as he sat taller than you, “but for me, as a woman, its just so much pressure.” He was now looking confused, squinting his eyes, trying to understand.
“Pressure to what?” 
“To make a baby.” He was beginning to patronise you, making you explain the obvious like it was some sick game. It got you all defensive again. “It doesn’t feel that great when all you can think about is if you’re going to be able to make-“
“It’s not just about that.” Adamantly he shook his head, eye scanning over your body watching as frustration overtook you. “It’s not just about making a baby.”
“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Miller, I’ve had sex, I know what its about.” You bit sharp, heart thumping in your chest, moving closer to him to try and assert some dominance.
“I don’t think you do.” You could’ve sworn there was a ghost of a smirk hiding behind his beard. “Christ, I should not be the one telling you this.”
“Telling me what? What Joel?” You were now practically between his legs, kneeling, begging to understand what he could possibly be talking about. “Please, tell me, I don’t understand.” His eye were trying frantically, to look everywhere except for you.
“Darlin’, I cant be tellin’ you this, s’wrong.” His voice was lower, speaking to you quietly and firmly, grabbing a hold of your wrists. You felt hot under his touch, his rough hand wrapping around your wrists, staring into your eyes. “M’old enough to be your daddy.” 
“Whats that got to do with it?” Your voice lowered to the same volume as his, you were searching for the answers in his eyes, and he looked conflicted. Like he was balancing options. 
Your body was betraying you again, it wanted to reach forward, wrap itself around him, be as close to him as possible, as if the proximity now was not enough. As if the feeling of his fingers and palms on your now hot skin, was not enough.
“You think I haven’t noticed the way you’re always starin’ at me? Hmm, sweet girl?” God, if you were red before, now you were purple. Your skin was prickling, not just at the acknowledgment of your behaviour but at his sudden use of pet names. You couldn’t force words out even if you tried. “Why’d’you think I avoid you like you’re the plague?” With his face inches from yours, it was now easy to see that there was almost desperation in his eyes, like he was losing a battle, unable to let go of his grip still. 
“B…Because, you, you hate me.” You finally stuttered out, your throat dry from the heaving breathing.
“Christ, no, I don’t hate you, darlin’, I just can’t stop myself when you’re in front of me, staring at me with those big o’eyes, looking like you’re just about ready to drop to your knees.” There was still no answer to your question, you still didn’t understand, you so desperately wanted to understand. Especially after watching the way he licked his lips, his burning stare taking in every inch of you, “And to think, you’ve been sat there, squeezin’ your legs together, and you don’t even know what you’re doing.”
“I, I, I don’t understand, what you’re saying, Joel.” Your chest was rising and falling, a sweat blanketing the both of you, his grip loosening but letting his hands travel further up your arms until they were at your back. 
“Let me show you.” Was all he could muster out until his lips were on yours. He crashed against you, pulling you into him by your back. You fought for a moment at first, out of shock at his abruptness, but it did not take you long to be pressing your body against his, your fingers getting lost in his hair, gripping and tugging whilst he groaned into your mouth. His tongue found its way against yours, tasting every part of you, savouring the moment as you whimpered. You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath and he rested his forehead against your, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” The ache was taking over your body now, like it was all for him, making you force your lips on him again.
“Please, Joel, please,” You purred into him, his hand reaching down to your ass, gripping it hard, “please, I’m aching.”
“Baby, you don’t know what you’re doin’ to me,” he growled, his free hand reaching up to your neck, “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Please show me, I need you.” Begging, you ignored how right he was, you were sure what you needed but you needed it fast. The tension was becoming unbearable, you needed release.
He held you close by the small of your back, gently lowering you down until your back touched the ground and he was on top of you. Looking up at him through your lashes, you were ready to do anything he asked of you, your entire body feeling like it was electric. He continued kissing you, moving his lips down your jaw, down your neck, sucking and unbuttoning your shirt with an experienced hand. There was still a little bit of disbelief inside you, a failure to believe that Joel Miller, who 2 minutes prior you believed hated you, was on top of you undressing you. The anticipation for his next move was unlike anything you’d experienced before. “God, I’ve thought about this,” His voice vibrated across your chest, your body lifting to meet his lips, your bra exposing your cleavage, “now look at you, angel, whimperin’ for me like a bitch in heat.” He was grinding his hips, pressing his hard bulge into where you needed him most. 
“Please, it hurts, Joel.” There was nothing you needed more than what he was giving you, the friction of denim rubbing together was nothing cooling the burning sensation between your legs. 
“I know, baby, I know.” He grumbled, “m’gonna show you, jus’ takin’ my time.”
Kisses were descending south down your body, soft red marks left in their wake. He was taking his time, occasionally glancing up at your wide, blown out eyes. He wanted to show you exactly what he’d meant. Exactly what he’d meant. When he finally reached the waistline of your jeans, he tapped your thighs, signalling for you to lifts your hips so he could begin to pull them down your legs and then off your body entirely, taking your white cotton panties with them. You instinctively pressed your knees together, immediately feeling exposed in front of Joels large frame. 
He tutted, “Ain’t no use bein’ shy now, sweet girl, you gotta show me where you need me.” 
You did as you were told, spreading your legs, whilst he knelt back, palming the growing tent in his jeans. “that’s it, good girl.” groaning, he leant forward, lowering his body to meet yours, “Look at how wet she’s got f’me, you might not know what I mean, but she definitely does.” A sadistic chuckle left his throat, watching you squirm under his intense gaze. 
Your body jolted when one of his fingers gently slid up your folds, collecting the wetness and slick, leaving you unable to breathe. No one had ever touched you there, not even yourself, and here was Joel Miller, slack jawed, toying with your hole however he pleased. He did slow motions up and down, watching as you glistened in the dim light. You had no idea you were capable kf feeling this feeling, a tingling sensation rippling in waves along with his touch. You were absentmindedly grinding your dripping cunt in motion with him, your eyes flickering shut whilst your head rolled back. “that’s right, baby girl, feels good don’t it?” Joel cooed through a smirk, watching intently as you rubbed against him. 
“mmhmm,” You hummed in a daze, this must’ve been what he was talking about, “so good.” And with your admission of pleasure, a small smile dancing over your lips, he took his hand away. Your head snapped up and you propped yourself on your elbows, looking down at him with pouted wet lips. He took little notice of your reaction, instead he wrapped his arm around your thighs positioning his face opposite your throbbing pussy. 
Before you had time to question why he was so close, he showed you. He dove into like a you were water and he was in a drought. Gasping, you watched with your jaw wide, panting whilst he licked and sucked at you, his tongue exploring every inch of you. “Joel, fuck, my god, what are you doing?” you panted, your chest rising and falling heavily. 
“Well,” he spoke between breaths, “I’m tasting you, darlin’ and boy, don’t you taste sweet.” he continued on, watching your breathing growing erratic, the torment his tongue was bestowing on you causing your eyes to roll back into your head, a hand holding onto his forearm. “your old boyfriend never came down for a taste?” 
“No” Just when you thought you couldn’t feel any better, he brought you to a new high. One which made you sure that this was what he was talking about surely it didn’t get better than this. Feeling his beard scratching against your thighs, seeing the absolute sheer pleasure in his eyes as his tongue fucked itself into your hole. 
“He was missing’ out, I’ll tell you that much, sweetheart.” It was a smug scoff. He was immensely enjoying the effect he was having on you. See you wriggle, unable to keep still, holding your hips firmly down to the ground so he could have his way with the sweet pussy in his mouth. Knowing that his mouth was the only one to taste you, to savour and relish in the taste of you, god he felt like one lucky man. 
The pit that started in your stomach had now grown and blossomed to take over your entire body, it was consuming and controlling you. Your back arched off the ground, only remaining anchored by Joel firm hands, you let one of your hands grab fistfuls of Joel’s hair, pushing him closer against you, whilst your other hand took to your breast, pinching at your hardened nipple underneath the restrictions of the bra. You cared not for the noises you made, filling the otherwise silent forest with salacious moans and Joel’s name. If a search party had been sent out for you, they’d definitely find you. They’d find you laying half naked, fucking yourself on Joel tongue. It was nearly shameful how much you were at his expense. The grip was gone from one of your thighs, your weak leg dropping to the ground giving him a wide access as you planted your foot on his back. He leant back for a moment before pursing his lips and spitting directly onto your already drooling cunt, making you flinch. 
“look at me, pretty girl.” He took a breath, your eyes meeting his, “god, what a sight for sore eyes, so pretty, look at me.” babbling his took your moment of distraction as a invite to insert two of his thick fingers into your hole, smiling again with wet lips, the juices from your pussy dampening his beard and shinning off of his prominent nose. Your eyelids fluttered as you struggled to make eye contact with him, your lip between your teeth to hard you were sure it was going to draw blood. at first he made sure to slowly let you adjust to the stretch of his fingers, feeling your walls constrict around his digits. “mmm, thatta girl, taking my fingers so well, is that nice?” His praise made you fumble, unable to form sentences, only being able to respond with a over ambitious nod of your head, pouting with beads of sweat dribbling down your temples. “I bet it’s nice, no one’s ever touched you like this, huh? My needy girl, following me around, so full of desire with no where to go.” You continued nodding, hypnotised by his words, his fingers curling to reach a spot, overwhelming you, tears prickling in your eyes. Your stomach was tight, the pressure building and building, your knees growing weak. “My girl.” He repeated to himself, looking your up down as if he was admiring his handiwork. 
“M’all yours.” It left your throat involuntarily, strangled and choked, pathetic. 
“All mine?” He huffed incredulously, “Yes you are, all mine, christ girl.” His mouth returned to the mess he had made made, lips wrapping around and pulling at your clip, releasing with a wet pop. You hissed and tugged at his hair, his nose smushed against your skin, sniffing and smelling as much of your natural scent as he could. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate a pussy this intoxicating, or if he ever even had. 
Something was about to rupture in you, it panicked you, washing over your body. You were unable to breathe, unable to release the grip you had on him, your eyes widening as you trembled against joel’s mouth. “Joel.” you squeaked out and he looked up at you with dark eyes, “what’s, fuck, I’m…” Your heart pounded in your chest and in your ears, you could barely focus, unable to form a sentence, or even get a word out. 
“that’s right, go on, let it out,” his warm breath fanned against your sensitive area, “make a mess, let go f’me, soak my finger.” He was rattling you and egging you on, seeing your pathetic, writhing, sweating body in front of him. 
Once more, you did as you were told. And holy shit. 
It was like your entire body was on vibrate, toes curling, unable to even make noise. Stars were bursting behind your squeezed shut eyes, body lifted forward off the ground. “That’s my girl, there she is, fucking hell, give it to me, darlin’” He groaned, digging his hips into the ground, watching you come undone. The tension was being released in constricting waves, your walls clenching and squeezing around his fingers, which remained still, but still putting pressure on the spot they had previous being stroking relentlessly. 
“oh my god, Joel, fuck me, oh my god, fuck, fuck.” When you could finally breathe again, you whined his name, cursing and crying a stream of profanities, his fingers leaving you empty whilst his tongue lapped up every precious drop of your high. It took a couple blinks for your vision to come back at when it did, you were met by the proud grin plastered on his face. 
“what was it you said earlier? somethin’ ‘bout me losin’ m’touch in m’old age?” He teased, before putting the fingers that had been in you, into his mouth. He sucked them dry, letting his eyes roll back into his head for a second. “Sure didn’t seem to mind my touch when you were choking my fingers.” 
“what was that?” You almost lost your voice, your throat dry. Joel was working his way up your body, kissing you and nibbling at your salty skin. 
“That, my darlin’, was what I meant.” His teeth pulled at your earlobe and you took deep breaths before letting your fingers nimbly start to unbutton his own flannel. 
“Do it again.” You pleaded, staring into his brown eyes, trying to rid him of his shirt as quickly as possible. 
“Christ, you are needy,” He stopped his kisses, “she’s already wanting more? it feel that good?” 
“Please, do it again, I want more.” You were completely possessed by the pleasure you had felt, gagging to feel more, you wanted him carnally, to have as much of him as possible. 
“Use your words, what do you want?” He was enjoying this too much for someone who had previously stated how wrong it was. He was going to give in, there was no way he couldn’t with his cock so painfully hard in his pants, he just wanted to relish in having you beg for him some more. 
The truth is that he’d spent plenty of time watching you. When you first came to town and Maria set you in the cabin next door, Joel had watched you. In fact, his bedroom window had been so perfectly placed so that at the right time of night, when you stepped out the shower he could make out your outline behind your curtains. In these moments, Joel would let himself indulge in all the dirty, perverted thoughts he’d kept locked up. He take his manhood in his hand and pleasure himself at the thought of feeling your skin against his, the thought of you whimpering and offering yourself, spread apart, for him. He’d thought many times about bounding through the door, ruining whatever was left of your innocence. He hadn’t, however, imagined that you had this much innocence left. And he would’ve never imagined in his wildest dreams that you’d be begging him for more, for him ruin you. 
“I want you, I want you to fill me up, to stretch me.” You were speaking whatever came to mind, no thinking, just action, tumbling over your words with the grace of a bull in a china shop. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, your eyes fucked out, hair matted and wild. This was enough for him to give in, allowing you to push his shirt down his arms, revealing his tanned skin and soft belly. Hair scattered below his waistline and you were eager to find where it lead to. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me, girl.” He cursed, watching your small hands struggled with his belt buckle. When he’d agreed to help teach you hunting, this is the last place he thought he’d be. 
He ended up undoing his belt himself, your frantic hands proving useless, but this meant you got to watch with wide, hungry eyes as his cock slapped his lower stomach, red and swollen with pre-cum beading at the tip. You were speechless, gulping, unsure of whether it would even fit. After he’d discarded of his jeans, reaching round and pumping his shaft in his fist. You were starving for him, the way he looked in this light, completely bare in front of you. He came down to your height, lips against yours, tongue in your mouth. “Can you taste yourself? Taste how sweet you are?” You purred a yes into the kiss and he pulled away, grabbing your chin between his thumb and finger. “taste good don’t you?” His half-lidded eyes remained fixed on the way you licked your lips and smiled sweetly at him, as if you were completely angelic. “yeah, you like it? ‘Course you do, jesus.” He shook, he wasn’t gonna last long with you looking the way you did, feeling the way you did. “how do you want it?” He was buying himself time, his cock already twitching just at the thought of being inside you. 
“I’ve never done it, from behind.” Your voice was quiet and unsure, you’d clearly never been asked how you wanted it and now you felt like there was a right and wrong answer. However with the way Joel immediately grabbed you, flipping you over with a squeeze so that you laid on your stomach, you realised that maybe you picked right. 
“Now,” he straddled your thighs, grabbing and kneading at your bare ass, spreading your cheeks and planting his cock between them, “it’s been a while,” he rocked his hips gently, watching the way his cock pushed through your plush cheeks, getting lost, “I ain’t tryin’ to make excuses-”
“Please, please, I’m begging you,” you pleaded, arching your back and pushing against him, his balls dragging against your pussy causing him to shiver, all the hairs on his body standing on end, “I want you to give it to me again, Joel, it’s aching again, I’m aching for you.” You tried your best to crane your neck, so that you could make eye contact with him and he took it as an opportunity to grab you by the neck. 
“M’gonna give it to you, baby girl, you ready?” His lips brushed against your forehead before resting there, so you whimpered in response before he plunged into you. 
He stretched you out in a way that burned. It felt like you were being torn and you evidently winced and hissed and the intrusion of his cock. He, on the other hand, had just entered into heaven. The way you wrapped around him so tight and perfectly had him choking on his low groans, basking in watching your pussy so delightfully swallow every inch he had to give you before stopping at the base. You needed a moment, clenching your fists and squeezed your eyes shut, you needed to adjust to having something of his sheer size inside you. He needed a moment because he was sure if he made any sudden movements, he was going to spill inside you immediately, before he had even had a chance to get you remotely close to your climax. “god, you’re so fucking tight, she’s takin’ me real good.” He kissed at your forehead again, trying to distract himself from the way you were squirming. You knot in your stomach was growing again and the pain was soon numbed out, awaiting his movement. 
“you’re so big.” whining, you fluttered your lashes, splaying your hands out in front of you, preparing yourself. 
“I know, baby, you ready for it?” 
“Yes,” You were practically gasping for air, making puppy dog eyes at him through your eyelashes, watching him twitch, “please, Joel, please.” 
Against his better judgement, Joel began thrusting his hips slowly into you, watching your expression twist, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide open. You mewled and whimpered, knuckles turning white as you gripped at nothing. You looked pathetic beneath him, surrendering yourself entirely. And he ate it all up. He was enthralled, blinking down at you, watching tears form at the corners of your eyes, your freckles hiding beneath a red flush. This was heaven.
He rocked into you fervently, pushing in and pulling out moans. His grip around your neck kept your face in constant view, his breath fanning over your skin. “You look so beautiful, baby, taking this cock.” He grunted out between the snap of his hips, reaching deeper inside you than anyone had before, your soft velvet walls wrapping around him, clenching and contracting to accommodate his girth. Your lips couldn’t form words, stuck open wide, panting, your tongue resting on your bottom lip.  
You felt so full, feeling him in your belly, grazing your cervix with ease. His free hand traveled from your hips, holding you safe and firm, to squeeze a handful of your ass, painfully hard. It caused you to yelp, pushing your hips into him, making his thrust halt for a moment as he shuddered. He was trying desperately hard to not cum embarrassingly fast. He felt like a teenager again, trying to divert his thoughts to anything other than the writhing body he was currently impaling with his throbbing cock. But the way you were pushing back on him, begging him constantly with that drunken look in your eyes, like he was the only other person on the planet. He couldn’t ignore it, no matter how much he though about what needed fixing at home, all his thoughts returned to you. 
“More.” You choked out. And he raised an eyebrow.
“More? More what, sweetheart?” He punctuated by giving a hard thrust that left you shaking. 
“Harder, I want it- Oh fuck!” Interrupting you, he took advantage and began ramming into you mid sentence, taking immense pleasure in watching you become undone around his relentless torment.
He let go of your ass and your neck, picking you up by your hips so you were on your knees, check pressed against the ground. There was an excited smile on your face, cheeks aching and hot. “You smilin’ girl? Yeah? You like it like this, feel good don’t it?” Whilst you couldn’t see his face, you could hear he was groaning through a grin too, keeping your legs steady so he could quicken his already brutal pace.
There it was again, that growing pit, the flush of electricity that erupted into your body. Your grin only grew, whining and spreading your legs out further for him, allowing him to go deeper and deeper with each groundbreaking thrust. Your legs were trembling, your knees aching and surely bruised up. But it was the last thing on your mind, all you could think about was the impending surge of pleasure. “Hell, look at you,” Joel growled, swallowing hard, “You fuckin’ love it.”
“I… Do, don’t stop!” You spread your legs further, thighs falling downwards, ignoring the burning sensation at the slightly uncomfortable position that you knew you’d regret tomorrow.
“Oh darlin, I ain’t gonna be able t’hold on much longer, not wit’you spreading your fuckin’ legs like this f’me.” Joel was holding on for dear life, becoming desperate. He knew you were close, he could feel it in the way your cunt was becoming tighter and tighter, dripping with arousal, slick running down his thighs getting lost in the hair.
“Mmmhmm, I want it daddy, fill me up.” Your words were slurred and he tensed at what you’d called him. 
“Yeah, baby girl, you want daddy deep in you?” He leant over you, palm pressing against the side of your head, pushing you further against the wooden floorboards. His thumb fell just above your mouth, sitting on your lips until you wrapped them around it, sucking gently. You nodded, your body beginning to tense and tremble.
This was shameful stuff, Joel thought, stuff people go to confession and repent for. Here you were, on your hands and knees, offering yourself up, sucking his thumb, fluttering your lashes. You were either the most beautiful angel or a demon sent to lead him astray. Either way, he was relishing in it. 
“Come on baby, I know it’s-”
“Oh, Daddy, I'm gonna- it’s coming, I’m-” Your frantic moans came out tumbling over his, interrupting him, arching your back up, your entire body clenching at you were engulfed in pleasure again. “Oh, Joel, Oh my god, you, f, f, feel, so good!” You didn’t care about your volume, you just cared about how amazing it felt to have Joels cock deep inside you as you twitched and writhed around him. You pushed your ass against him, trying to get him as far in you as possible.
Joel couldn’t stop himself, spilling into you will a prolonged broken groan, one hand grabbing a fistful of your hair, the other grasping on your hip, his head snapped back. He could’ve been having a heart attack, the way his heart was pounding in his ears. You could feel him pumping inside of you, each twitch and rope painting your insides. 
“Oh, sweet girl, Christ!” He panted out of breath, riding out his high, jutting his hips forward into you as you breathed heavily beneath him, sensitive to every one of his movements. “You’re gon’ be the death of me, girl.” He fell over you, his weight pinning you down, pulling his softening cock out of you.
He rolled to the side of you, you remained laying on your front, thighs trembling, aching too much to move positions. “You still in there?” He raised his eyebrows, brushing hair behind your ear as you look up at him in adoration, big eyes filled with want. A giggle left your lips as his chest rose and fell in deep loud breaths. “What’re you laughin’ at?” 
“Is it like that every time?” Coarse, your voice creeped out, wiggling closer to him as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his calloused hand.
“No,” sighing, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling your tired frame into his, immediately soaking in the warmth, “that was… somethin' else.” 
You were quick to fall asleep in his arms. You knew you were safe, your body aching and weak. You were engulfed in his scent, head resting nestled into his armpit, soaking it all in. 
He’d opened a can of worms, swarmed by thoughts he’d tried to suppress, watching you curl up next to him. He could not shake the image of you coming undone around him, surrendering so easily to him. It was so much better than he’d ever imagined, but now he’d acted on these thoughts, he could no longer suppress them. He couldn’t avoid you, the only act of indulgence he’d allowed himself was watching you through your window. Now he hadn’t just indulged himself, he’d submerged himself in you. He was ashamed. He should’ve known better.
______________________________________________________________
“Get up, gotta head back.” 
You were awoken, your shirt being thrown at you, crumpled over your chest. Your eyes took a moment to adjust, sunlight seeping into the cabin. You blinked a few times, a shadow breaking up the sunlight. Your body ached like you’d ran a marathon. “Hey, Kid, wake up.” His stern abrupt voice, causing you to pout, instinctively bringing your shirt up to cover your breasts. 
Joel was standing opposite you, fully dressed, bag on his shoulders, towering over you with a fed up expression painting his features. You blinked up at him a few times, frowning, confused. “Do I gotta say it a third time? Jesus Christ.” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head, turning his back on you to walk out the cabin.
A tsunami wave of embarrassment and shame flooded through you. Feeling your cheeks turning hot and purple, scrambling to get your bra and clothes on, eyes scanning the floor for your belongings. You pulled your socks on, searching for your panties. They’d seemingly disappeared. But due to Joels passive aggressive sighs outside, you decided they were a lost cause. Pulling your jeans up your legs without them. You felt dirty, your inner thighs still sticky and wet, his cum smeared across them. His coldness was causing you to do flips in your tummy. When you finally met him outside the cabin, he muttered something else under his breath and then began walking without a word.
You kept your eyes down to the ground, tail between your legs, walking in silence. You felt the tension in between you two. Like you’d upset him. Like you’d done something wrong. He didn’t dare look back at you, ignoring every noise you made, cursing every twig you stepped on reminding him you were there. And reminding him where he’d been. Reminding him of the touch of your soft skin, how small you felt in his arms, the way you were whimpering his name begging for him. He couldn’t bare it, knowing you were behind him, eyes distraught, the carpet swept from beneath you.
Your mind was elsewhere, trying to figure out where you’d messed up, what it was that was wrong. Everything had felt so right, so so good. What was it that you did that had angered him so much. You didn’t notice the branch within the leaves in front of you and you tripped slightly, falling forward, only to be caught by Joels strong hands. “Would you just watch what you’re doin’?” He bit, lip twitching, staring you directly in the eye, hands gripping onto your arms for a moment too long. 
“Did I do something wrong?” You swallowed, watching him turn around on his heel, shaking his head again, like you were asking something outlandish, “I mean.. was I… was I not very good? I know I don’t have much experience but-” You were fumbling over your words again, insecurity threatening to spill from your eyes, Joel freezing in front of you.
“What we did was wrong, no matter how good it felt, for both of us.” He spoke stiff, refusing to look you in the eye when he turned around, refusing to acknowledge that you were holding back tears. “It was wrong.” He lifted his hands in front of him, as if to signal “enough”.
“But-”
“No, no, thats it end of.” 
“You’re not even letting me-”
“Listen to me,” he stepped forward, now staring too directly in the eyes, inches from your face, steadying his breathing, “Last night should not have happened, It will not happen again and I’d appreciate you keepin’ it to yourself, it was a mistake, a lapse in judgment.” 
His words stung. Like falling on your palms on gravel as a kid. Quick and lingering. You tried your best to hid your quivering bottom lip. You didn’t know how to respond, you didn’t know if he’d even let you. You decided against it. He’d humiliated you enough, you weren’t about to cry in front of him too. 
You carried on the rest of the walk in silence. Like nothing had changed. Like you couldn’t still feel him dripping out of you. Like the ghost of your taste wasn’t still dancing on his tongue, on his lips. He could smell you all over him. 
When you finally got back to town, you parted ways, the awkwardness radiating off of the both of you as you were welcomed back. He made you feel sick. It was all so embarrassing. The way he wouldn’t even look at you. But why would he? You were just one great big lapse in judgment. The return to your small cabin was lonely and you had barely gotten to your front door when you finally allowed yourself to cry. You allowed yourself one glance back at Joel, who was entering his own home, already staring you down. You sobbed a little, shooting him a cold glare before slamming you door shut behind you, sliding down it with your hands in your hair.
Joel felt guilt rotting inside him. 
He entered his home alone, it was cold and he could still smell you all over him. 
He took one hard step at a time, ascending his stairs, his bed creaking beneath his weight as he sat down, sighing. 
He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the white cotton panties, the little satin ribbon on the front crumbled and slightly undone. Lifting them to his nose, he inhaled, your scent filling his nostrils and his brain. The image of you playing on repeat behind his eyelids, like an old movie on a projector.
And with one hand holding your panties to his nose and mouth, eyes fixated on your bathroom window, he let his other one fist his cock out of his jeans, stroking it slowly.
Back to square one.
299 notes · View notes
ivy-elle · 18 hours ago
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"What are you even talking about?"
Or: How they react to you being overly intoxicated aka drunk af
Feat. Albedo, Scaramouche
Notes: No mentions of vomiting, do not worry
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“You… are like totally the most beautiful being on this earth. How is that even legal?”
Your drunk-hazed gaze looks up at him, an admiring, nearly even mesmerised expression on your face.
Albedo stifles a surprised laugh behind a cough, his fist concealing his soft smile. “Thank you, y/n. Why don’t you sit down first?”
Obediently, you follow along as he gently guides you to the couch, the slight grin not wanting to leave your face. Even less, when he crouches down in front of you, studying you with intent focus. He can’t help the slight concern slipping into his expression as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face.
Meanwhile, you seem to have the time of your life with him being so close to you, with his gentle touch, like you’re something delicate.
How is it even real that you are able to call him your friend – let alone your partner. Like, your very own!
Just the way his crystal-like eyes follow yours, his shimmering hair catching the faint light of the room, down to how pretty his lips move when he speaks…
Wait. Right. He speaks. Listen.
Focus.
Right.
“If you’re able to eat right now, I suggest getting some carbohydrates into your system, my love,” he explains, gently tilting your face. “That way we can nudge your blood level back to normal again.”
You barely contain a silly giggle at his tender touch. “I’d eat straight-up eat wheat right now if you asked me to.”
Albedo nods, very slowly, his brows furrowing as he ponders about how to handle this situation best. “I see. Well, that’s not quite what I had in mind.” And yet, a part of him can’t help but be fascinated by your responses. “Would you be satisfied with some toast instead?”
You hum airily, but the moment he lifts himself up you feel your face fall into a pout, immediately missing his warmth.
“Wait,” you quickly try to prevent him from leaving. “On second thought – I am not even that hungry. You can keep staying here. Sitting.”
“I will remain here.” He slips his fingers from yours, a smile tugging his lips. “See? I am just across the room.” You should eat something to prevent some serious hungover.”
You watch him quietly, nearly enchanted by his smooth movements as he prepares some snacks, listening to his soothing voice. Has he always had this effect on you? You can’t tell. You can’t even care less right now.
“Personally, I’ve never experienced a hangover myself, but it starts right after the alcohol level in your blood starts to drop. And given your state…” He offers you a plate with some fresh toast and light fruits, “I presume it’s best to take precautions now.”
“Thank you,” you murmur fondly, accepting the plate. To your relief, Albedo joins you on the couch.
“Slowly. Take your time.”
“Maybe I was starving a bit. Archons, this is good.”
Albedo chuckles softly, gently taking your hand in his. You feel his thumb lightly tracing along your wrist before it settles on your pulse.
Your turn toward him, tilting your head in confusion. “I am still alive. I think.”
His eyes crinkle, soft musing laced in his voice. “Yes, I can see that, my love. I am merely checking your heart rate.”
Albedo looks you over and the moment your eyes meet his again, you feel your heart rate slightly quicken beneath his fingers.
His frown turns into a soft smile. “You’re feeling alright?”
“If you keep touching me this way, I’ll feel even better.” You hum, your eyes drifting to his lips.
But before you can follow your impulses, Albedo draws back, gently pushing you back by your shoulder. “Forgive me, love, but I’d rather you be sober first.”
Now you can’t help but pout, your face scrunching up. “That’s a bit excessive.”
Amused but persisting, he shakes his head, but not before leaning in and to place a soft kiss on your temple.
“Eat up. I’ll set up some tea and antidote for your headache.”
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“I see you’ve lost your mind entirely,” Scaramouche remarks dryly as he halts at the doorway.
“Shhh. I need to focus,” you murmur, not even bothering to look up from where you’re lying on the ground. The room is cloaked in darkness - all windows are drawn shut to prevent any lights from falling inside, and disturbing work of art.
Scaramouche’s gaze darts to the perfectly good bed right beside you. Why, in Teyvat’s name, would you prefer the cold, hard floor? Hasn’t his day been eventful enough as it is already?
“Look at this,” you whisper again, and Scaramouche raises an eyebrow as your Electro Vision flickers to life again. His eyes follow your gaze to the ceiling, where charged threads of Electro dance in a chaotic disorder, illuminating the room in soft purple light. But your attention is glued on the lights, absolutely fascinated by this spectacle.
He steps closer, a pinched expression on his face. “Why don’t you-“
Before he can finish, you reach out, snatching his wrist and pulling him down next to you.
“Look!” you repeat once more.
Obviously, you’re only able to actually move him, because he lets you. But he does not lay down on the ground – who do you think he is? Instead, he crouches down next to you, fixing you with a look, like you’ve lost it entirely. His eyes narrow as he notices your abnormally flushed face, grasping that something is not quite right with you.
But you’re completely ignoring his unsettled expression, rather lifting your hand again to tilt his chin upward, directing his to the ceiling. “Listen to the sky, Scara,” you explain in a tone like it’s supposed to clear up everything.
Listen to the sky?
Scaramouche’s eyes dart down to you again, irritation building up inside him now. He dislikes this - having you physically here, but at the same time you not acting like yourself.
“What the hell is going on with you?”
Your eyebrows scrunch up as you turn your head toward him, like you’re pouting that he isn’t taking your lightning show as serious as he should. “You’re always complaining how fake the sky of Teyvat is. So, I recreated it. Now you have your own. Or, my own. Like – ours, I guess.”
For the sake of his pride, Scaramouche quickly schools his face. A strange combination of confusion, irritation and at the same time a strange warmth settles in his chest. His eyes flicker over your slightly dazed features.
“You’re drunk,” he states flatly, trying to sound unbothered.
For that he earns yet another. “Shhh!” This time a small, but sheepish grin tugs at your lips.
For a moment his eyes linger on you, before he tears them away, letting his gaze return to the ceiling. Now that he’s seeing the purple mist of electro from this angle, your perspective…
“How fake can it be, if I created it myself?”
At the sound of your gentle whisper, he feels his resolve weakening, eyes flickering between the charged branches, now finally taking form on the ceiling.
You created … a sky. For him alone.
Then, even softer, as if to not drive him away, you add, “Sometimes you need to be a bit intoxicated to see the world differently.”
Scaramouche stretches his legs out, leaning back on his elbows. “The ground was the best solution you had?” But there is no real bite in his voice, he is way too immersed in the little universe you’ve created in the room.
For him, his own Electro Delusion has always been nothing more than a tool – a means to gain power. To destroy. Yet, here you are again, showing him the other side of the coin, proving, that in destruction lies its own universe of creation.
“You smell nice,” he hears you mutter suddenly, breaking him through his trails of thoughts.
Of course, you’d say something like this right now. Without looking at you, He doesn’t look at you the corner of his mouth twitches. “I know. You, on the other hand, have had better days.”
You gasp, pushing him away lightly. “Rude! I do not smell bad!”
“You reek of alcohol. It’s onerous.”
He hears you grumble something incoherent under your breath, slurring the words into a mess.
Unimpressed, he clicks his tongue. “Consequences of your own actions.”
But as you shift to stand back up, the electro particles above start to dissolve as well. Almost immediately, his hand grabs your wrist, holding you close. “Stay down.”
You stare at him. Then you blink once. Twice. And then a shit-eating-grin spreads on your lips. “Oho! So, you do like my sky. Ha!”
A scoff escapes him as he tries to act nonchalant and averts his eyes back to the ceiling. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I simply prefer not having you stumbling around the room like a drunk sailor, just because you don’t know your limits. Which seem to be quite low.”
You sit back down, not without grouching a quiet “Jerk.”
“Idiot.”
The two of you glare at each other, daring the other to say something. Eventually, you relent, rising your hands and bringing the lighting to life once more.
Scaramouche remains quiet, savouring your presence for a second longer. Before he looks back at the stars again.
Who needs a fake sky, if a whole universe is right there beside him already?
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Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are so appreciated <3
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