#this has been bothering me since the game came out
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something something commodification of adolescent nostalgia packaging the timeless joy of self-insert fictional escapism into a soulless $60 product
#in my day we had to imagine and draw and write our unique fantasy lives at hogwarts#and for me it was a formative creative experience#there are many more glaring and ethically unacceptable things about the game but it has always conceptually bothered me#a harry potter rpg? bestie fans have been roleplaying their hogwartsonas since the books came out#their creativity is the real magic#hogwarts legacy
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They’re fucking with us
#I have been burnt out on both these games for months but I got jumpscared by this guy and I must say. What#first it was Skirk and… I forget her name. but??#um. hello?#the fact that they’re in the same universe makes this weirder. youre suggesting a connection here#Im just forever annoyed that despite being 2 different games they have the exact same design philosophy#you could shove any character from either game into the other and they would fit#(okay you’d have to drop some of the fancy weaponry but Chevruse has a Gun.)#and that’s because the designs themselves are meant to look as appealing as possible with little room for storytelling#ESPECIALLY THE WOMEN#and it bothers me a little even if I can recognize the intent. this is their business model it’s.. it’s whatever fine#but this is just getting a lil silly methinks#‘it’s just hair’ their hair is the most distinguishing thing about them. their outfits are similar in nature and they share a color scheme#it doesn’t matter how different their personalities are or that they’re in different games because they were made by the same company#in a connected universe#one of which is one of the most popular characters in the game since she was first teased#without a clear timeline of which game came first if they aren’t happening concurrently and the connection between them is unclear#I don’t truly care that much I’m just endlessly baffled that this keeps happening#snack time#genshin impact#hsr
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Why Dragon Age Veilguard isn't a "Cathedral"
Concept art by Matt Rhodes
"To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals."
What is inherent with Veilguard that keeps bothering me is the fact that the world's choices truly didn't matter--and it doesn't simply bother me from a player perspective, it's not simply a grievance borne of frustration to what I (as a longtime fan) have lost. It's about the very culture of the arts under capitalism's new media habituation cycle [x][x].
Yes, I spent hours of my life playing and replaying each instalment of Dragon Age. Yes, I painstakingly curated a 'canon' world state by replaying what came before in preparation for Veilguard. Yes, I am even more unsatisfied with the end product--time hasn't helped, it's just widened the divide. But, and I can't stress this enough, these very personal gripes aren't what hit home the most. It's the inherent disregard of legacy. A legacy that the previous writers and game developers were building towards.
In the DAV artbook, "cathedral" is the word used to describe the process of making a game. Matt Rhodes' exact words are: "One artist can make a painting, but it takes a team to build a cathedral." Cathedrals took centuries to build. The architect who drafted the first blueprints would likely never see his work realised, he had to rely on those who came after him, like-minded and passionate, to see it through--for the culture, for the future, for legacy. Painters took on several apprentices for this reason too--giant frescoes were not completed by one man's hand, even if it is one man's name that immortalises them. Similarly, if you weave a narrative around choice, what good does it do to take it away at the final act if not to fall to caricature?
To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals.
Late-stage capitalism and profit-margin-obsessed game producers forcing developers to churn out meager content, to make a known brand into something it's not, to chase a fad or a popular trend... o, how reductive and cliche you've been forced to become Bioware. We have lost the cultural thought patterns relative to Cathedrals. We know only of barn-raised churches--done in a day but unlikely to last the turn of the seasons.
And don't even get me started on the music of Veilguard either. From Origins to World of Warcraft to Everquest to Baldur's Gate to Dungeon Siege, you can hear the intricate interconnected weave of sounds inspired by the Dungeons and Dragons-esque fantasy genre. You hear it in the repeated use of certain instruments, in the harmonic weeping notes of a bard-like singer or the foreboding echoes of drums as if of war. In tavern songs. But then, rather than hire someone who loves these worlds and this genre, who is a hungry artist looking to make a name, a legacy if you will, for themselves with a spectacular score, you hire any already sated composer, one well-into the encroaching years of career fatigue, whose notes repeat in countless projects, who feels less concise and more uninterested with each new project. One who has long since cemented his legacy. Someone in it for a paycheck and nothing else! And, to top it off, you let him compose something so minimalist? I am offended actually.
Cathedrals! We should have witnessed the final tile being placed on the Dragon Age cathedral. Instead, some architects walked up, tore down the interior and installed IKEA furniture and called it authentic before having to call the previous architects to come and fix the "load-bearing issues", forcing them to rush and add a coat of varnish and a few 'aged' details for authenticity.
#dragon age veilguard#veilguard#dragon age#bioware#veilguard critical#da:tv#dragon age the veilguard#matt rhodes#veilguard concept art#dragon age artbook#a cathedral in ruin#i am being dramatic and in my feels but also it's not about me--it's about the literal disney-ification/corporatisation of media now#this post is also anti hans zimmer hype#like... that man has been phoning it in for a while now#pack it up#let new talent come in#stop gatekeeping the arts by flooding the mainstream with the same composers/actors/writers#media studies#as a solasmancer i got my happy ending#as a dragon age player?#yeah... no.#i couldn't sleep until this was exorcised from my brain
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I need the bartender Simon having to escape upstairs for a few minutes just to control the monster in his pants just because of a more direct provocation from the reader
I was saving this ask and I think this is the perfect moment after Simon sees reader in his shirt, no?
Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, sex toy, pining, daydreaming about p in v sex
He doesn't dare go up to his room - even after the bar is closed, after you and Johnny are both gone, after his tasks are complete. His mind has been scrambled ever since you came down in his shirt, looking like you'd just woken up from having a nap in his bed. He knew that wasn't the case, but it was so easy to pretend. You made it easy, looking like wearing his shirt was just your typical Friday outfit. If he tried hard enough, sitting at the bar after hours, sipping on an Old Fashioned- he could imagine you were up there right now, lying stomach-first in his bed, wearing his shirt, with "LT RIELY" on your back - you weren't objective, he certainly doesn't think of you like that - but having his claim on you aroused the most primal part inside him. If only you could see what you've done. Did you even know it?
Price comes lumbering down the stairs. Simon doesn't bother to look at him; he sits at the bar, his Old Fashioned long gone, with an empty whiskey glass and the mostly-full bottle next to him. He was hoping to replace the thought of you with drinking, but he didn't have the stomach for it.
"I'm plannin' to see if Garrick wants to join the team." Price says, shrugging on his jacket. "I know he wanted to be his own man, but we could use him. Our girl's made this place quite popular."
Simon wants to spit out the words he'd just heard. Our girl. Whose girl? John's? Soap's? The entire pub? It was his name on your back. Not Price. Not MacTavish. He was the one you came to with all those receipts, numbers scribbled in the margins, trusting him to help you ward them off. Sure, you have fun with everyone, asking them all for help - but you go to him the most easily, whenever you need to feel safe. Bad customers, bad situations - you looked to him. Didn't that mean anything to Price?
He doesn't respond to his captain, choosing to stare at his empty glass instead. Price looks at him quizzically.
"Feelin' alright, there?"
Simon grunts. "Long day."
Price knows he's bullshitting him. He knows exactly what this is about. He sighs, pulling his beanie on and tucking the money pouch into his jacket. "If you want 'er, Simon, tell me to back off. Can't read your mind."
That has him pursing his lips, grip tight around the sides of his glass. He would have punched John, was he any other man. He knows exactly what Simon's thinking, yet he makes him work for it. Typical. His pride and his jealousy are fighting tooth and nail against each other, but he can barely say a word.
Price stands there a moment, waiting for Simon to speak - but he doesn't even spare the owner a glance. Bastard's always punishing himself... he thinks, sighing again.
"Bright and early tomorrow, lad." He says, heading towards the kitchen. "Lights off when you're done here." He knows Simon's capable of closing, but he repeats it every night regardless.
"Sir."
Price stops, halfway through the kitchen door. He looks at Simon, who's now staring directly back at him. There's a look in his face, something that reminds him of Ghost - the reason he became his right-hand man.
"Respectfully..." he says slowly. "Back off."
Price almost finds it comical. Like an animal staking its claim, staring at its rival - except they’re not rivals. The only reason Simon is bothering to play his captain's game, asking for permission to have what Price would happily hand over, is because he's his superior. Even if they're all retired from the SAS, no one ever really dropped the dynamics of the team.
He smiles, nodding his head once. "Understood." He says, shoving himself through the kitchen door. "But hurry up and say somethin' to 'er. I'm sick of you losing your mind during the rush."
With that, Simon hears him leave through the back door. He stays there for a moment, his mind reeling - he feels both satisfied and angry at the same time. It was a bit humiliating to tell Price to leave you for himself - you don't belong to him. But that was a problem he was going to fix. You had his name on your back-
For Christ’s sake, he’s got to give it a rest. You wore his shirt, that was all. You wore it – with no bra. Bare. Naked underneath the 141’s insignia, under his title.
And that damn bra is still in his room.
He can’t take it anymore. He unscrews the whiskey bottle and takes a few swigs, before slamming it back onto the bar top. He leaves the bottle and the glass there as he gets up, making his way across the floor, up the stairs, passing the office, and continuing up to his studio flat.
Nothing seems out of the ordinary. If you’d gone snooping, you either did a good job of hiding the evidence, or you didn’t really rifle through too much. His bed was untouched, his books and items where he had put them last – he goes into his drawers, checking to see if you had gone through anything other than his shirts. Considering everything is still where it should be, he assumed not. Though you did leave a mess in his shirt drawer – you’d been digging around in there until you found his old SAS shirt. Did you mean to do that? Were you looking for something with his name on it, just to drive him insane?
He goes back into his top drawer, muttering a curse as he pushes the contents aside. His cock is pulsing in his pants as he grabs his pocket pussy, slamming the drawer shut and heading towards his bed. He doesn't want to draw this one out - this is nothing more than a wank, just to get you out of his head. He sits at the foot of his bed and unbuttons his jeans, pulling his hard length out of his briefs – it bounces up and slaps against his abdomen, precum already smeared across the tip. He’s been hard for hours now, trying not to cum in his pants at the thought of your tits rubbing against the inside of his shirt. Do you have small, pebbly nipples? Or ones that are soft and pliant? He growls as he smears the tip of his cock against the lips of the toy, rubbing up and down the slit. He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. You’re there, rubbing your lips on his cock, your hand wrapped tightly around his shaft as you stare up at him, licking and kissing his tip like a good girl…
He scowls and opens his eyes, sitting upright – he sees your bra hanging off the back of his chair, and he nearly passes out form how quickly the blood rushes to his cock. Pink lace, delicate and kinda skimpy… and your shirt, crumpled on the seat of the chair. You’d forgotten to shove them into your bag before you left. Or did you do this on purpose?
He's reaching out before he realizes it, slowly standing up and heading towards the chair. He wants to grab your bra, rub his cock in it until he stains it with his thick cum – but something in the back of his mind keeps him from touching it. One, it’s purely you, and he doesn’t want to ruin that. Two, he’s trying to cum. Not to cum to you. He’s doing this to get rid of your image in his head.
So, he goes for the next best thing. He grabs your shirt and sits back down on the edge of the bed. He lines himself up with his fleshlight and brings your shirt to his face; no wonder the drinks had turned it translucent, it was the thinnest fabric he had ever felt. Practically skin.
He presses it against his face and inhales: the scent of you, sweet, floral and spicy, fills his mind. It makes it all to easy to imagine that you’re sinking down onto his cock, and not that he’s stuffed it as far as he can into the toy. He groans, his eyelids fluttering shut as he pumps his hips once, then again… the tightness of the fleshlight slides over him easily, offering no resistance with the precum acting as a lube while he grinds up into it, heat knotting in his gut. The waist of his jeans hugs his thighs as he slowly and steadily pulses towards the ceiling, taking deep breaths of your scent.
He feels like an animal. Dirty, cheap, and desperate. He has to remind himself that it’s not about you, it’s about having a good wank and getting you out of his head. He drops your shirt on his chest and uses his free hand to cup his balls, groaning as he massages them. The schlick of the fleshlight around his dick is loud, the sensation borderline painful as he quickly fucks into it, curses spilling past his lips as he slams the thing down to the base of his length, catching on the Jacob’s ladder piercing on the underside, then back to the tip.
He shouldn’t, but he lets his mind slip elsewhere. What would you be doing? Would you have your hands on his chest, lips parted in a moan as you drop your hips onto his thighs, your cunt dripping and squeezing around his member…? What are you doing now? Are you still wearing his shirt? Are you lying back on your bed, playing with your breasts under the fabric and using your other hand to toy with your pussy? What do you sound like? Are you saying his name, or can you make any sound at all?
He falls back against the bed. “Fuck fuck fuck-“ he mumbles. He’s caught himself in a trap here – he can’t allow himself to indulge in the thought of you, begging him to take your hips and buck up into you – but it’s impossible to get you out of his head. Even if he could, he doesn’t think he’d be able to cum without you. He squeezes his fist around the fleshlight, groaning loudly from the pain, trying to drown out the sounds of your moans in his head… you’re always there, ever present, leaning over him and whimpering in his ear, need you, Simon, wanna cum on your cock, want it inside-
It's all too much for him, but not enough. He turns himself over, climbing up to his knees on the bed. He props himself up on his forearm, holding the fleshlight with his other hand as he ruts into it, stuffing his cock in as far as it will go, until the lips are smashed against the base. He pants and groans, mouth hanging open as he hovers over the bed; over you, holding one of your thighs up, touching his forehead against yours, watching as you’re covered in a layer of sweat, tits bouncing with each violent thrust of his hips. Both wrists secured above your head with one of his meaty hands, whimpers and whines spilling from your mouth as you struggle to remain coherent. Your cunt swallows him greedily, hugs him tightly, pulses around him, coaxes him to pound into you harder and harder, your walls twitching as slick gushes around him, your fingers digging into the back of his hand as you cry out his name, “Simon, Simon, Simon”-
He hisses through his teeth as his balls seize up, his abdomen going taut and his dick twitching in the toy. He rips the fleshlight off and grabs your shirt without a second thought, wrapping it tight around his cock and pumping it. “Gonna cum, gonna cum- fuck- oh, fuck-!” He mumbles to no one as his orgasm is ripped from him, hips canting repeatedly as cum spurts into the fabric of your shirt, leaking out around his thighs as he thrusts into it, thighs aching from the exertion. He bites into his hand and growls as he continues rutting, fighting through the overstimulation to chase what remains of his high – but he soon collapses on the bed, huffing and groaning into the mattress.
His orgasm fades slowly, his heart ramming against his ribcage and the fog clearing from his head. Realization sinks in as he’s hyper-aware of your shirt, still wrapped around his dick, now soaked in his cum. He'd have to wash it, now. Filthy doesn’t even begin to describe how he feels, but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He rolls onto his side, clutching your shirt in his hand. Fuck. One quick tug was all this was supposed to be, and now, he’s picturing you lying across from him. Face flushed, lips swollen and eyes hazy, smiling at him and panting. Telling him you love him. He’d say it back a million times. Listening as you breathe, as you talk about your silly little ideas for the pub, for redecorating his room… craving the moment where you drag yourself closer to him and snuggle into his chest for the rest of the night.
He hasn’t gotten rid of you, like he hoped for. He’s only made it more clear: he wants you. He wants his life to be threaded with yours, he wants to wake up next to you, he wants you to change his routine, to pick up his broken pieces and make a mosaic – and he wants to be there when you need someone, he wants to give you everything you want and more, whether that’s a life up in the clouds or down here, in his arms, in his small bed and lackluster apartment. You’d make it better; you’d make anything better.
He sighs, slowly sitting up and on the edge of the bed. Price was right – he’s got to hurry up and say something to you, or else he’ll be drowned in his obsession. You’d either agree to take this fucked-up giant on a date and end his misery, or you’d reject him, and he could force you from his thoughts and replace you with misery. It’s worked before.
He pulls off his jeans and shirt and grabs the fleshlight, standing with a grunt and walking into his bathroom. He’s planning to clean the toy, but if he waits long enough, he might just be fucking it again in the shower.
#bartender ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley#ghost x you#ghost x reader#ghost#ghost cod#call of duty#cod x reader
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𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐄𝐖... | sae, kaiser, rin
𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!
plot: you get mentioned in one of their interviews, and he's sooo in love with you <3
— sae itoshi
That Sae didn't like interviews was a well known thing, even the journalists were a little worried when they discovered they had to interview him: although he was a prodigy, a talent never seen in years and years of soccer, he was objectively a thorn in the side, acidic and lethal in words as he was with his shots in the penalty area. All the journalists who had dealt with the Japanese prodigy could say, with absolute certainty, that a slap or being fired was less annoying
And today was no exception. ReAl had just won a very important Spanish cup, but one that Sae didn't actually know much about. They simply told him to be himself, and so he did: the result was a landslide victory against the Venezuelan team, 7-1. The match had been over for less than half an hour and he had already been surrounded by journalists, whom he had pushed away with little courtesy as he headed towards the locker room. But one journalist had insisted more than the others, and with a sigh, the boy had dedicated 5 minutes of his time to him
"Exciting victory today, isn't it? Spain had been aiming for this cup for years but they only won it when you had a place in the team" says the journalist, microphone pointed towards Sae. A man, a little further away, held a video camera on his shoulder, pointed towards them. Sae nods, turning away when he swears he hears someone call out to him in a familiar voice. The reporter continues talking, but Sae pays no attention: that voice sounded so familiar
"So that's a yes?" the reporter says, the microphone still pointed towards him. Sae doesn't even know what question he asked him, but the mere fact that he's still here trying to get information out of him bothers him. "What?" he asks raising an eyebrow, and before the reporter even says it, Sae knows it's about you
“Your girlfriend isn't here today, which is strange considering she's always present at your games, even when they're out of town” the reporter says, probably repeating the words he asked him earlier. Sae isn't even surprised by the question, he already knows what he wants to ask him and mentally thanks himself for not answering with 'yes' at the previous question "Is this a sign that you've broken up? There have been rumors for a while that the feeling between you two is over-"
"No. We have not broken up and at the moment, and even in the future, the option is not in mind for either of us" says the boy without thinking for two seconds, taking the edge of the microphone with one hand, so that his words they arrive very straight. The journalist is surprised
Today, for the first time since you've been together, you couldn't come to his game. You actually haven't seen each other in a while, at least a month, and all the speculation that you had broken up had reached Sae's ears. Everything seemed to fit, the perfect breakup after years of a perfect relationship and a wedding ring on the line that Sae had offered you months ago. Everything seemed to coincide with the end of one of the most talked about relationships of the moment
But the reality is that simply, for university reasons, you had to move to Italy for a few months. Sae often came to you, but couldn't stay for whole days due to training... and so, for just over a month, you hadn't seen each other. If the truth wasn't known, you would actually look like a couple who hated each other by now
“Would you tell us more about all the evidence that has been circulating for over a month?” asks the journalist, and the boy already knows in his mind that the interview will not end well if this damned journalist continues to be so interested in something that does not concern him
Sae sighs. He knows that, from your temporary home in Italy, you are watching him. He knows well that every word he is saying you are listening to him. And it's time to make things clear once and for all,or he thinks he's going crazy
"Y/n and I haven't broken up, it's not on our minds and wedding preparations are currently underway. I hate when people seem so interested in something that actually has nothing to do with them, but I understand that it's your job and that's why I'm holding back from going harder on it" says Sae in one breath "My future wife and I don't have anything remotely negative in mind for our relationship, so if you would do me the favor of mentioning her only when there really is a reason, I would be happy" says Sae, and the journalist is suddenly understanding why all his colleagues had told him to stay away from the Japanese prodigy "So, if you really have questions for me about my performance today, I'll try to answer. Otherwise, bye" he says, handing the microphone back to the man, who takes it completely speechless
The camera shows him leaving, hiding the journalist who is still speechless. The camera zoom focuses on the background of Sae's phone, which appears for a few seconds when the boy takes the phone while heading towards the locker room. A photo of you and him cheek to cheek stands out, a small smile breaking across the boy's face as you laugh. With only this proof alone, literally everybody could definitively say that you didn't break up
— micheal kaiser
Micheal was now used to interviews. Since he had actually become someone, someone relegated to Germany's biggest soccer club, interviews had become an everyday thing, like brushing his teeth or kicking the ball as hard as he could during training. He was good looking, he had charisma, he was definitely one of the most pleasant to interview on his team. If the interviewer was a woman he would crack a few jokes, something to make things more interesting. It was objectively flirting with them, but since you had officially become his girlfriend, he had put a stop to these things, out of respect for you
The room was well furnished, he was sitting on a sofa placed in front of the large windows, which gave a view of the great metropolis of Hamburg. You were with him, sitting behind the cameras on a chair placed there at random. He had insisted to the producers that you appear next to him during the interview, but it wasn't possible. His nose was still a little crooked knowing that they got you that beat up chair by sheer luck. You were his empress, the respect they had for him they had to give to you too, and it hadn't happened
He knew that you didn't really care that much, but your respect was something that, at least in front of him, they couldn't miss. But making a fuss just for this didn't seem right at the moment, at most he would have done it after finishing the interview
A woman enters the room, probably only a few years older than him, in her thirties. She looked familiar, and he wasn't sure why he had a bad feeling. The woman approaches, sitting on one of the armchairs next to him. They could have changed your chair for that armchair, why hadn't they done it?
"It's a real pleasure for me to interview you again. It's been a long time since the first time!" the woman says smiling, and from there Micheal finally understands why he felt like he knew her: a few years ago, before he even met you, he did an interview with this woman. The video had gone viral not for the questions, but for the way it was obvious the two of them were flirting with each other. Not that Micheal was really interested, it was just a habit before he met you
Before he can even say anything, a producer announces the start of the interview. The woman smiles at the camera, giving a brief introduction before moving on to a few questions: they are all things related to soccer, Bastard Munchen and the next match against Italy, which will take place in a few weeks. Micheal relaxes his nerves a little to see that nothing has to do with his private life, and turns around to see you from time to time. You smile softly at him, nodding as a sign that he's going well, really everything is going well
But Kaiser relaxed too soon, unfortunately. "Sooo, the internet world has been wondering this for a while... and now seems like the right opportunity to ask it! We're done with soccer questions anyway, right?" the woman says, chuckling, placing a stack of notes on a nearby table, picking up another. Kaiser tilts his head, and for a moment, he thinks these are the usual questions related to his relationship. Nothing new
"Our first interview was four years ago, when you weren't even dating yet. The internet world wondered for a long time if we were together!" the woman says, with a look that Kaiser recognizes: hoe. He turns to you and for a moment he reads some confusion on your face "The interview went so viral that everyone really thought it was a way to reveal our relationship to the world. But it didn't go that way, unfortunately" says the woman
If he wasn't live nationally and if the interviewer wasn't a woman, he would have already crushed her face with his fist. With what logic does she talk about something like that in front of you, his girlfriend? Where's the fucking respect they're supposed to give you but are lacking in every possible way? Everything is going wrong
“It sure would have been a fun thing to do and-” the woman says speaking casually, but the guy interrupts her “Schatz, could you come over here for a sec?” Kaiser says, shifting his attention solely to you, who finds yourself perplexed for a moment. He's breaking every rule possible, but he doesn't care. If he wants you next to him on national live broadcast, the producers will make you stand next to him on national live broadcast
You get up from the chair a little scared, walking among the producers who mentally and not curse Kaiser. You pass the woman who, with an annoyed look, stares at you. With slightly shaky legs you sit next to Micheal, who immediately grabs you putting his arm around your shoulders, pushing your hip against his. You try to smile as best you can in front of the camera, which records everything. Kaiser squeezes your shoulder slightly, and then turns his face back towards the camera "I don't rule out that that interview made me go viral everywhere for months and months, increasing my fame" says the boy "But my behavior was a bit wrong at the time, I was definitely giving attention to people who shouldn't have been..." says Micheal, and while you try to hold back a laugh, the interviewer opens her paralyzed mouth
Kaiser chuckles at the situation, then continues "The attention that I used to give to random people is now received by her, who deserves it all. The mere fact that she accompanies me everywhere is a valid reason to love her, right?" the boy says, squeezing your shoulder again, and you smile in love "She is simply better. It's not even a competition, because she would win before even starting. Maybe if my girlfriend had been the interviewer that time I would say differently now! Maybe I would have already married her, who knows" Kaiser says, and you tilt your head against his shoulder, leaning on him like you always do. You're so damn in love with him
If the producers and interviewer failed to give you respect behind the scenes and also with annoyance, Kaiser will make sure to prove your worth in front of the whole Germany
— itoshi rin
If there was one thing that distinguished Rin from his teammates, it was the ability to turn each of his interviews into a future edit that would become popular on all social media. He was famous, damn famous, every scene of his was edited by millions of people every day. His interviews, for his fans, were the best opportunity to make scenes about him
And since you had been dating, for a few years now, you had suffered more or less the same treatment as Rin. You often appeared in his interviews, you were loved by his fan base, and the edits about you that went as viral as those of your beloved boyfriend
"...the Australian defense this time had to face a much better prepared Japan than last match" says the interviewer, the microphone held out towards Rin. A match has just ended, obviously won by Japan: Rin is still sweaty, his legs slightly weak from running for practically the entire duration of the match. But he's not sick, he's simply tired and he just wants to kiss you
Of course you came to his game, taking a seat in the VIP section of the players' families. It's a habit that, as soon as the match is over, he comes to the VIP section to kiss you, but this time he couldn't: the journalists completely captured him, making it impossible to even move a few meters
"Yes. We decided to change the defense to prepare for Australia's top scorer, who couldn't do anything this time compared to previous matches" Rin replies disinterestedly, looking for you. There are just so many people, so many players or interviewers, but where the hell are you? Didn't something happen to you?
"It must also be said that Japan no longer has any problems in terms of strikers since you joined as an honorary member of the team" says the interviewer, and Rin nods without actually thinking much about what they told him. He just has a strange feeling, he doesn't understand why he isn't seeing you when it's never been difficult for him to find you in a crowd of people
"Any projects in mind at the moment? On a soccer level or on a personal level?" the interviewer asks, but Rin stops hearing him when, a few meters away from him, he sees you: you're a little lost, your gaze curious while you were probably looking for him too. It makes him somewhat tender to see you like this, but he is happy to know that all his doubts about whether something had happened to you are false
"Mr. Itoshi?" the man asks, but Rin takes a few steps forward, not enough to disappear from the camera lens, to signal to you that he's there. It doesn't take you long to notice, running like a little girl in his direction, hugging him as you wrap your arms around his neck, while he places his hands on your hips. "I couldn't find you!" you say laughing, holding onto your boyfriend who holds you close to him "It's the journalists' fault" Rin whispers, leaving a kiss on your cheek before remembering that he's in the middle of an interview. He turns just enough to see that the camera is now perfectly directed towards you, immortalizing the romantic moment between Japan's number one striker and his beautiful girlfriend. The edits will be crazy this time
You notice that the camera is pointed towards you, and a little embarrassed you try to smile without revealing the hint of discomfort "I'll be back later?" you say to your boyfriend, who before you can even finish the sentence, shakes his head as he grabs your wrist "No. You're coming too" he says walking back towards the station, squeezing your wrist affectionately. You follow him, a little embarrassed but it wasn't the first time it happened, so you had gotten used to it
Rin returns to his seat, his arm around your waist ignoring the fact that he almost slipped out of an interview. You stand next to him, your arm behind his back, smiling at the man who now knows both of them "Were you saying?" Rin asks, returning to the interview questions
"Oh, yeah yeah... any projects in mind at the moment? On a soccer level or on a personal level?" the interviewer asks again
Rin thinks about it for a moment. The plans are actually there. He must still become the best of the best, climb to the top and lead Japan to be the strongest team in the world. It simply has yet to break some of its limitations
But there are also other projects. He has to decide when to use that ring he bought more than a few months ago. He must understand when to kneel down and definitely ask you to become Miss Itoshi, his wife. These are mainly his most important projects at the moment
"I still have a lot to do, Japan has to become the most important and strongest team in the world, and maybe I will take on the role of team captain. On a personal level though... I don't know, I just want to continue what I already doing for a while… making her happy every day” Rin says, and you can swear you feel your heart explode
Your boyfriend isn't a big talker, you knew this even before we got together. But the facts speak, and he is doing exactly what he says: every day he makes you happy, and you couldn't be more grateful. His words may seem like nothing, but they mean a lot to you. You simply love him. The interviewer smiles. You turn to Rin and he leans down slightly to kiss you on the nose, making you giggle while the cameras film you
Maybe Rin could use that ring tonight, maybe?
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#blue lock x female reader#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x you#blue lock imagines#blue lock headcanons#sae itoshi#itoshi sae#sae itoshi x you#sae itoshi x y/n#sae itoshi x reader#itoshi sae x y/n#itoshi sae x reader#itoshi sae x you#micheal kaiser#kaiser michael#micheal kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader#kaiser x you#kaiser x y/n#rin itoshi#itoshi rin#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi x you#rin itoshi x y/n#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin x you#itoshi rin x y/n#bllk x reader
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never enough
summary: Rafe and you share a connection that has always bordered the line between friendship and something deeper. Despite knowing that loving him is a game of risks, you cling to the intensity of his company. Rafe makes you feel alive, even when his love arrives with scars.
warnings: idk
word counter: 2862
author's note: english is not my first language
tags: @rafegf-real
The sun was streaming through the curtains in the room, illuminating the messy edges of your bed. It was a new day on the Outer Banks, but there was something different about the air, something you could only describe as a whisper of what has always been between you. You and Rafe Cameron.
For as long as you can remember, Rafe has been a constant in your life. You were no stranger to his fame on the island: the troubled boy, the son of the powerful Ward Cameron. But, to you, he had always been something more. There was a complexity to him that few bothered to see, an invisible pull that always brought you back to his side, even when you knew you shouldn’t.
That morning, your phone vibrated on the nightstand. Rafe’s name flashed on the screen, a reminder that even when you tried to keep some distance, he always found a way to get past your defenses.
“Breakfast at the dock?”
It was his usual way of starting the day with you, as if you both didn't have a history full of moments that neither of you wanted to name. Moments like the time when, after one of his most intense arguments with his father, he appeared at your window at midnight, seeking comfort. Or that time when his hands lingered a little longer on your waist while you were dancing at one of the many parties on the island. Neither of you mentioned it afterwards, but the weight of what was left unsaid always lingered.
You arrived at the port, and there he was, leaning against his motorcycle, with that arrogant smile that only he could effortlessly sport. Your steps slowed down, but your eyes couldn't help but search for his. There was always something in his gaze, a sparkle that he only reserved for you.
"I thought you weren't coming," he said, although you both knew that you always came when he called.
"And letting you have breakfast alone, who would you take it out on then?" you answered, trying to keep the lightness in your tone.
He laughed, that kind of laugh that felt like an escape, and walked over to you. There was something about the way he closed the distance between you that always made you hold your breath. There was nothing particularly romantic about that gesture, and yet, every time he did it, you felt like the world became a little bit smaller, leaving room for just the two of you.
“Come on,” he said, taking your arm with a familiarity that bordered on intimacy.
Breakfast was like any other, filled with jokes and sarcastic remarks.
After breakfast, the two of you headed to his bike. As you climbed onto the back of his bike, the familiarity of the contact with his back hit you. There was something addictive about the feeling of being so close to him, the engine roaring beneath you, the wind blowing away any rational thought. You gripped his shirt tighter than necessary, as if that could keep you anchored in a world where he wasn’t always a storm.
Rafe led you to a secluded path near the beach, a place you had both frequented since you were kids. No one would find you there, which made it perfect for those moments when neither of you wanted to face the rest of the world.
Upon arriving, he got off the bike and leaned against a large rock, lighting a cigarette. You watched as the smoke rose in spirals, his sharp features bathed in sunlight.
“You know being with me isn’t going to get you anywhere good, right?” he said suddenly, his tone low, almost a whisper.
You stepped closer, crossing your arms as you looked at him. You knew there was truth in his words. Loving him was like walking a razor’s edge; one wrong step and everything could fall apart. But you also knew that the intensity of his love, of his presence, made you feel alive like nothing else.
“I know,” you finally admitted, your voice firm. “But I also know that I prefer that to a life without feeling. And you… you make me feel.”
His eyes met yours, and for a moment, it was like time stood still. There was a weight in his gaze, a mix of desire, pain, and something deeper that he’d never been able to put into words.
“I don’t want to hurt you, but I do anyway,” he said, throwing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his foot.
You moved closer, your body now just inches from his. You could feel the tension in the air, the electricity that always seemed to exist between you. You lifted a hand and placed it gently on his cheek, forcing him to look at you closely.
“We all have scars, Rafe. Mine don’t scare me,” you whispered. “But I don’t want you to keep running away from what we feel.”
His lips curved into a half smile, though his eyes were still filled with uncertainty. Rafe had always been good at hiding his emotions, but with you, it was different. You could see the cracks in his facade, and every time you did, you found yourself wishing you were the one to save him, even though you knew he didn’t want to be saved.
Suddenly, his hand moved to your waist, pulling you towards him. His fingers pressed lightly against your skin, and for a second, everything else stopped mattering. Rafe looked down at your lips, as if he was weighing whether to cross that line once more.
“You’re too good for me,” he murmured, his voice husky.
“I don’t care,” you replied without hesitation.
And then, as if finally giving in, he leaned his head down and kissed you. It wasn’t a soft, delicate kiss; it was a clash of pent-up emotions, of desire and desperation. His lips were insistent, almost possessive, as if he wanted to mark you, to make sure you knew what you meant to him, even if he could never put it into words.
Your hands found his hair, tugging lightly as his arms wrapped around you tighter. Everything about him was intensity, as if he wanted to absorb every part of you in that moment. But there was also a vulnerability in the way he held you, as if he was afraid you would pull away.
When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily. Rafe rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as if trying to hold on to the moment.
“This is what scares me,” he admitted in a whisper. “I don’t know how to not screw this up.”
You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you again.
“You don’t have to be perfect, Rafe. You just have to be you. And I’ll be here, even when things get tough.”
His eyes softened, and for a moment, you thought that maybe, just maybe, this scarred love might be worth it. Because, despite everything, Rafe Cameron made you feel alive, and that was a risk you were willing to take again and again.
There was something in the air when you were with Rafe. A raw, intense energy that made you feel more alive than anything else had ever managed. When you were with him, every emotion was amplified; every brush of his skin against yours ignited a fire that consumed you completely. But that love, so fierce and visceral, also came with scars.
That night, he had come home late, stumbling slightly, his eyes red and a trace of regret marked in every line of his face. You knew what was coming before he even opened his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, stopping in the doorway of your room.
His words were familiar, as were the promises that accompanied them. “I’m sorry” was always followed by his need to fix it, to make you feel like you still loved him, despite everything. You looked up at him, your eyes filled with mixed emotions. You had cried before he arrived, silent tears at the way he always found a way to hurt you, whether it was with sharp words or the shadows of other women. And yet, there he was, begging you to forgive him.
“Why do you always come back here?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “Why do you come back to me, Rafe?”
He didn’t answer right away. He took a step toward you, his gaze catching yours, as if he were looking for a way to explain something that even he didn’t fully understand. Finally, he said,
“Because you’re the only thing that makes me feel real.”
Your chest tightened at those words, that naked confession he would never make to anyone else. And you knew, with every fiber of your being, that it was true. No matter how much he ran away, no matter how much he sought comfort in others, he always ended up coming back to you, as if you were his only refuge in a world that he himself had turned into chaos.
He moved closer slowly, his shaking hands finding yours.
“I know I hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking. “But I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to love you without scarring you.”
His words were like a knife, but also a promise. There was something about his vulnerability that completely disarmed you. You felt each of his flaws, his mistakes, like a shared burden. But you also knew that, despite the pain, you couldn’t walk away from him. Rafe was both your storm and your refuge. A love that lifted you up and consumed you at the same time.
“I don’t hate you for what you do,” you finally said, your voice firm though your eyes shone with unshed tears. “I hate you for how you make me feel, even after everything.”
Rafe lowered his head, his lips brushing the back of your hand with a tenderness that seemed almost impossible for someone like him.
“Let me fix it,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Let me prove to you that I’m still worthy of you.”
Your breathing quickened as his hands moved to your waist, gently pulling you towards him. You felt the urgency in his touch, the desperation of a man who feared losing the only thing that gave his life meaning.
“Rafe…” you murmured, but your words were caught in your throat as his lips found yours.
The kiss was anything but gentle. It was a storm, a hurricane of emotions that left you breathless. His mouth moved against yours with an almost desperate intensity, as if he wanted to etch you into his skin, to make sure you knew how much he needed you. Your hands found his hair, tugging lightly as he pressed you against the wall, his body enveloping you in searing heat.
Every touch, every kiss, was a mix of love and penance. Rafe knew he had crossed boundaries, that he had hurt your heart in ways that might never fully heal. But he also knew that, in moments like this, he could redeem himself, at least for a while. And you, despite everything, let him.
His hands slid down your back, caressing your skin with a gentleness that contrasted with the intensity of his kisses. He lifted you slightly, whispering your name as if it were a mantra, as if that could repair every crack he had caused. And in those moments, when both of you were wrapped in the purest intimacy, all the pain, all the scars, temporarily faded.
Rafe loved you with the same intensity with which he consumed you, and although you knew it was a dangerous love, you couldn't help but surrender to him. Because, despite the scars, he made you feel alive. And in a world full of shadows, that spark was all you needed to keep going.
Weeks passed, and though each night Rafe slipped by your window felt like a new beginning, the cycle never changed. During the day, he was the same again: the boy who moved from girl to girl, who sought in others what, deep down, he knew only you could give him. You saw him at parties, his arm around some new conquest, and you felt a part of you break every time his eyes didn’t seek you out in the crowd.
But he always came back. At the end of the day, when the world was dark and silent, it was your name he whispered, your window he knocked softly. And you, despite the pain, always let him in.
That day, after one of those parties where you’d seen him with another girl, something inside you finally gave in. You were in your room, the dim light from the nightstand illuminating the space as you sat on the bed, your hands shaking with frustration and sadness. You didn’t want to open the door for him this time. You wanted to scream, to break something, to make him understand how much it hurt you.
But when you heard the knock on the window, your body reacted before your mind. You walked over to it, your steps slow and heavy. When you opened it, Rafe was standing there, his hair messy and his eyes downcast. There was a trace of guilt in his expression, but also something deeper, something you hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Can I come in?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
You didn’t say anything, just stepped aside. He walked in and stood there, looking at you as if trying to find the right words. But there were no words that could fix what you were feeling right now.
“I can’t go on like this,” you finally said, your voice cracking.
Rafe looked up, surprised by the harshness in your tone.
“I’m tired, Rafe. Tired of being your refuge when the world turns its back on you. Tired of seeing you with others and pretending I don’t care. Tired of loving you more than you love me.”
Tears began to roll down your cheeks, and this time you didn’t try to stop them.
“I want you to love me, Rafe. I want you to need me, not just in your worst moments, but always.”
Rafe took a step toward you, but you held up a hand, stopping him.
“I’m broken, Rafe. Every time you leave, you leave a part of me behind.” And I don’t know how much more I can take.
For a moment, silence filled the room. Then Rafe slowly approached, ignoring your raised hand. His eyes were filled with something you hadn’t seen before: fear.
“I need you,” he said, his voice shaking. “I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone.”
His words hit you hard, but they didn’t stop hurting.
“It doesn’t seem like it, Rafe. Every time I see you with someone else, I wonder if I’m enough for you.”
Rafe shook his head, his hands finding yours with desperate urgency.
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice firmer. “There’s not going to be a time in my life when I don’t need you. You’re my constant, my only refuge when everything else falls apart.”
His words made your tears flow harder, but this time you didn’t stop them. Rafe pulled you to him, enveloping you in a hug that was both comforting and heartbreaking. You could feel him trembling, his own eyes wet as he rested his forehead against yours.
“I know I hurt you,” he admitted quietly. “I know I’m a mess and you deserve better. But I can’t imagine my life without you.”
You clung to him, your hands gripping his shirt tightly. You wanted to believe him, you wanted to think that this time it would be different. But the pain was still there, a constant reminder of the wounds he had left behind.
“I don’t want to be your refuge if you can’t be mine too,” you whispered.
Rafe nodded slowly, as if he understood the magnitude of your words.
“I want to be. And I’m going to do whatever it takes to prove to you that I can be.”
Silence filled the room again, but this time, it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was a silence filled with unspoken promises, with hopes that you both knew would be hard to keep.
That night, when Rafe kissed you, it was different. It wasn’t the kiss of someone seeking comfort, but of someone willing to fight for what really mattered. And as his lips moved against yours, a small spark of hope began to burn in your heart.
Maybe this time, the scars could start to heal.
#fanfic#oneshot#imagine#x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader
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Ok hear me out. Reader and Zuko go on a run for supplies .Reader makes a mistakes and almost gets seriously hurt/ near death experience. Zuko gets pissed at reader, maybe yells at her. Reader laughs it off and acts like she doesn’t gaf. Zuko later finds reader all shaken up and crying by herself. Love if you don’t, love if you do!
a/n: ty for requesting and hope you enjoy anon !
summary: zuko apologizes and receives something in return
What was meant to be a simple trip into town for supplies had quickly turned into a disaster, and Zuko believed it was your recklessness to blame.
You’d been too preoccupied in admiring a local merchant’s vast collection of sea shells to notice the Fire Nation soldier creeping up behind you, and if not for Zuko shoving you out of the way to take on the man himself you surely would have been burnt alive. Your failure to stay aware of your surroundings and lackadaisical attitude had almost gotten you killed, and the Prince made sure to point this out to you afterward.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” He scolds you after dragging you out of the marketplace by the arm and back towards camp.
“I was looking at shells, actually, before you so rudely interrupted,” you correct with an impatient roll of your eyes, but the act only seems to annoy him further.
“This isn’t a game, y/n! We didn’t come here to mess around, we came to quickly get more food and go, and we couldn’t even do that because you were too busy looking at stupid shells to notice your surroundings! You could have been hurt or worse!”
“Relax, ‘your highness,’” you dismiss him defensively, harshly yanking your arm away from his grasp. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not dead. I’m fine. You need to stop overreacting and leave me alone!”
Zuko watches with a scowl as you stomp away from him and towards your tent, ignoring the quizzical looks your friends send your way as you shut the flaps closed.
“What’s her problem?” Toph asks with a raised brow from her spot beside the campfire.
“What did you do?” Katara snaps at the boy with an accusatory glare.
“I didn’t do anything!” Zuko exclaims defensively. “As a matter of fact, I just saved her life and now she’s mad at me!”
“Saved her life? What happened out there?” Aang questions with a worried frown. “Was anyone hurt?”
“A Fire Nation soldier snuck up on her while she was distracted and was about to strike before I pushed y/n out of the way and fought him myself.”
“So… what you’re saying is you guys didn’t get any food?” Sokka notes dejectedly only to receive a scolding smack upside the head from his sister.
“If you saved her life, then why is she so upset?”
“I may have been a bit harsh with her after,” Zuko admits reluctantly, awkwardly grasping at the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to snap at her, but I was just frustrated that she wasn’t taking her own safety seriously.”
“Look, that’s just how y/n is sometimes. She’s too trusting of her surroundings sometimes, but you have to gently remind her to be careful,” Sokka explains to his friend. “Maybe if you hadn’t yelled at her she would have taken you seriously.”
“Just give her some time to cool off and apologize later,” Katara advises the fire bender. “She just needs her space.”
Frustrated, Zuko lets out a long sigh before ultimately relenting. Katara is right. He just needs to give you some space to process before bothering you again.
By nightfall the moon has risen in the sky and the rest of your group has called it a day, retreating to their tents to sleep and rest for whatever tomorrow may bring. You still haven’t set foot out of yours since Zuko yelled at you, and the Prince has spent the better half of his day groveling outside waiting for you to emerge. He’s beginning to grow impatient, but he’s also extremely worried. You missed dinner, and no one has been able to get you to come out.
Deciding enough is enough, Zuko takes it upon himself to barge into your tent and check on you. Better you be mad at him for invading your space without permission than for something to be wrong with you without anyone knowing.
When he enters your tent the last thing he expects to find is your figure curled up in your sleeping bag crying. Your body trembles under the blankets and your quiet sniffles are the only sound in the space. If you notice his presence you don’t acknowledge it, and Zuko hesitates before carefully sitting himself beside you.
“Y/n?” He calls out softly, gently pulling the covers back to get a look at your face. Water marks line across your cheeks from tears that had managed to dry off your skin, and it takes you a moment to finally meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry for making you mad,” you whisper meekly, voice cracking with effort after hours of minimal use.
“No, you don’t have to apologize. I should be apologizing for how I acted,” he assures you sincerely, carefully wiping away your remaining tears. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I was just worried about your safety- I’m not sure what I would have done if something bad had happened to you.”
“You really mean that?” You sniffle, looking up at him with doubt clear in your eyes.
“Of course I do. I know it probably didn’t seem that way when I was yelling at you, but I’ve come to care a lot for you, and I’d hate to see you get hurt.”
“I didn’t know…” you murmur quietly as you carefully sit up from your sleeping bag to reach eye level with the Prince. “I always figured you just saw me as some annoying girl you had to babysit.”
“Well, maybe at first,” he admits with a sheepish chuckle only to immediately stop when he catches your unamused glare, “but now I look forward to being sent to the market with you. I enjoy your company even if it means having to be more vigilant of our surroundings on your behalf. Can you just promise me that next time you’ll be a little more careful?”
“I promise,” you nod earnestly and, much to Zuko’s surprise, pull him in for a tight hug. He stiffens at first, unsure how to react to the close contact, but eventually he’s able to allow himself a chance to enjoy your warmth and reciprocate your embrace.
Only you could have the grumpy Prince wrapped so tightly around your finger.
| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy
#melzula writes#request#zuko#zuko x reader#zuko imagine#prince zuko#prince zuko x reader#prince zuko imagine#aang#toph#katara#sokka#atla#atla x reader#atla imagine#avatar the last airbender
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Lilia: Oh dear...
MC: *accidentally shot Idia's tablet while practicing their magic*
MC: ...
Lilia: *tries to lighten up the mood* I’m sure Idia has plenty of gadgets to use. This shouldn’t be a big issue.
MC: I should go apologize.
Lilia: How are you planning to do that? Idia dislikes being approached, so he'll just run away if you try.
MC: I'll just sneak up on him then.
Lilia: ...
Lilia: Pft- *laughs*
MC: Pépé?
Lilia: *amused smirk* Oh I would love to see that.
Idia: Seriously...
Idia: How can someone be so careless?
Ortho: Honestly, it was pretty amazing that they could shoot from that distance.
Idia: I liked them more when they were just an ordinary, magicless human. Now they break things like Malleus does.
Ortho: It was unintentional.
Idia: Yeah, I know.
Ortho: Hm?
Idia: What is it, Ortho?
Ortho: It's them. They've come to visit.
Idia: Huh?! No, no! Shoo them away!
Ortho: ...
MC: *who's already standing behind Idia*
Idia: Ortho! What are you still waiting for?!
Ortho: ...
Ortho: *smiles* Welcome, MC!
MC: *smiles back* Thank you.
Idia: !!!
Idia: *fainted from shock*
Ortho: Are you here to return my brother's tablet?
MC: Oh, yes. I’m sorry for breaking it.
Ortho: *giggles* It's fine. Anyway, I’m impressed by how you avoided our alarms.
MC: Lilia mentioned that he would run away if I made my presence known.
Ortho: That’s true, but I’d recommend ambushing him next time.
MC: ...
MC: Wouldn't that be mean?
Ortho: Yes, but he needs to learn to interact with his peers.
MC: I see.
Ortho: Oh! Did you know? My brother loves your SDC performance!
Ortho: He said you looked like you came straight out of an otome game!
MC: *smiles* That's quite nice of him.
Idia: *has regained consciousness but chose to pretend to be asleep*
Idia: Ortho...
Lilia: What did Idia say?
MC: He pretended to be asleep the whole time, so I ended up just talking to Ortho. He told me not to worry about the tablet.
Lilia: Ooh! That's great!
MC: ...
MC: Pépé, something's been bothering me since I met Ortho.
Lilia: Hm? What is it, dear?
MC: Has technology in Twisted Wonderland advanced so much that an android humanoid could contain a human soul?
Lilia: ...
Lilia: Pardon?
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busy signal
fem!reader x huening kai x choi yeonjun
synopsis: yeonjuns away on a trip and sends you a suggestive photo leaving you needing the help of your other boyfriend kai to take care of you.
warnings: 🔞!! established relationship, throuple/poly, no mxm, phone sex, breeding kink if you squint, size kink if you squint, praise, nipple play, fingering, multiple orgasms (f!rec), oral (f!rec), unprotected sex, creampie, use of the name baby, love, and the word slutty is used once.
wc: 4.7k oops
an: this is my first post on tumblr and first time writing anything with k-pop idols. feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]
in the middle of class your phone gave a deafening jingle in the silent room. for the better part of the day your phone had not gone off meaning you didn’t know the ringer was waiting to interrupt your lesson. waiting for the perfect time to make you flustered as you tried to dig it out of your over-cramped bag to shut it off.
by the time you grab it, the class is watching as your cheeks turn pink stitching it to silent. the professor clears their throat to catch everyone’s attention again as you look at the message that embarrassed you.
thinking of you <333
the photo attached is enough to make your blush burn your ears. Yeonjun had an away game this week in Chicago. Kai and you were unable to make it because of your class schedules, and every time he went away with the hockey team he made sure to fill your phone with lude photos and audios. in his words to “make sure you don’t forget about me.”
so now you were not only embarrassed for the outburst but feeling needy all at once. Yeonjun was leaning back shirtless on his hotel bed fisting his hard cock through the thin material of his underwear.
you clicked your phone off as fast as you could hoping no one saw the photo and if they did it had been too quick to know exactly what it was. but you knew instantly because it was one of Yeonjuns favorite poses and he knew it was one of your favorites.
You still had thirty minutes in class left and a bike ride home where you were sure to call Yeonjun to chew him out knowing he has your schedule memorized. for now you slumped in your seat pushing your thighs together to relieve yourself, if only slightly because as class went on the only thing you could think about was Yeonjun and his teasing.
when you do call Yeonjun he chuckles over the line “I’m sorry the time difference has me all messed up,”
“I was so embarrassed,” your tone is on the edge of a whine and you can practically hear Yeonjun smile.
“Did I make you all hot and bothered in theoretical physics?”
“junnie,” you drag the name out and he chuckles again.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” you can hear one of his teammates calling for him, “I’ll call you tonight maybe I can walk you through your little problem,”
“I don’t have a problem,” but it’s a lie and he knows it. your bike ride having made it all the more obvious how needy you really are, the seat pushing the seam of your jeans right against your clit uncomfortably.
“liar,” he sings, “if you can’t wait until tonight you do have Kai waiting at the apartment. he could fix your problem,”
“I don’t have a problem for anyone to fix,” you say, making it to your apartment and locking your bike up. “and kai is busy you shouldn’t be making me his to handle when you did this to me,”
“So you admit it,” grin in his voice.
“Yeonjun-“
“yes yes I know no teasing you cross country but hey you have two boyfriends for a reason. now I have to go, I love you!” he hung up before you could reply.
kai, Yeonjun, and you have been a trouple since high school and friends for far longer. it was not unusual in your relationship for Yeonjun to pass you off to Kai seeing as both of you tended to be a bit shy around each other when it came to sex unless it was the right circumstances i.e being drunk or just being extra clingy. kai and you are always cuddling and close. you love it when he touches you but Yeonjun is usually there to guide the two of you together, that one extra push to set the two of you in motion. you mostly think this is because the three of you started this way in the first place making it the norm.
you push open the door to your shared apartment kicking off your shoes and handing your keys on the hook. Kai's penguin keychain is already in its place showing he’s home. The only light coming from the office down the short hallway, the curtains closed against the setting sun. Padding your way over to the office you see Kai with his rumpled brown hair typing on his keyboard. He had a long paper due by midnight and had been working on it the past week, even last night he had only made it to bed around two in the morning.
you toss your school bag next to your empty desk on the opposite side of Kai’s before leaning over his seat to wrap your arms around him in a hello. “working hard huening?” you ask, pressing the side of your face into his hair. He tilts his chin in a way signaling to peck his check all without him taking his eyes away from the screen.
“nearly done,”
“Have you been staring at the screen all day?” you ask, taking in his squinted eyes and dark circles. “Did you eat anything since I left this morning?”
“some jelly I found in the fridge,” he nods.
“You can’t survive only on jelly,” you press on more kisses to his cheek before pulling away, “I’ll order takeaway for dinner but for now I’m going to try and nap,” he nods away, never leaving the essay the entire time. you are halfway out the door when he speaks up, “Did you talk to Hyung? Did his game go well?” and you’re brought back to the photo on your phone. kai would have been able to see how red you had gotten if he had looked your way. you weren't wearing a bra under your sweatshirt, your tank top being sufficient enough but your nipples are hard and uncomfortable against the martial.
“His game was good, he um, interrupted my class with his messages,” your voice was weak but unnoticed by Kai.
“oh good,” and you rush to your room to pull off your clothes. first the jeans digging into you then your sweatshirt. but as you lay down in your empty bed you can’t find anything to calm your racing mind. you grab your phone from the nightstand trying to scroll aimlessly but you keep thinking about the photo.
tossing and turning you end up on your stomach too hot to be under the covers even in only your panties and tank top. you open the text chain with Yeonjun and it’s the first thing you see. the sly little “thinking of you” message eating you alive. it was so unfair that he was so easily satisfied when away from you but you couldn’t get off by yourself and not that you hadn’t tried many times before. your hands weren’t the right feel, too short fingers, too soft, too much to think about. but you needed to get off now, looking at him with the veins in his hands showing off. you were uncomfortably wet and aching. you hadn’t even noticed the small whines you were letting out as you rolled over to your back pulling your knees up to rub your thighs together.
you wanted to call Yeonjun and beg him to walk you through an orgasm, wanted to beg Kai to take over with his mouth even if he was exhausted. but you dug your grave earlier and wouldn’t hear the end of it from Yeonjun if you fessed up to being so turned on by the photo.
This conundrum leads you to the file you had saved with all the previous photos Yeonjun had sent for this very purpose. there was no forgetting him now and not ever when he made you feel this way hundreds of miles away.
you hadn’t even noticed how late it was getting, how the room was dark and you were still stuck lying in bed looking for a release you couldn’t give yourself. and not for the lack of trying you just couldn’t make it to the end. Every missed orgasm made you tear up your soft whines suddenly pulling Kai’s attention from the other room.
The office has an adjoining wall and he was too focused on his paper to see what time it was or to see that the only light now was from his screen. He hit submit flicking off the monitor to hear your soft whimper.
he remembered you saying you would be taking a nap and then ordering food. but now seeing the time you had slept for way longer than you usually napped for after class and he would know because it was one of his favorite after-class activities to nap right along with you.
he picked himself up from his desk making his way into the dark hallway following your desperate whines. When he made it to the dark bedroom the three of you shared he flipped the switch that only lit the far corners lamp. and There you were with your hand in your pale pink panties eyes screwed shut, skin hot and flushed. you gave a weak sob before tugging your hand back still unaware of Kai in the doorway.
Kai was frozen, face turning all different shades of pink. He was tired before but now he was awake, the swell of his cock clearly seen through his gray sweatpants. He has always reacted easily to the sight of you and he was fast to try and push those feelings away. He was needy and always believed himself to be too needy and he wanted to keep you from that. Let Yeonjun take over sexually and let Kai take over emotionally.
but now here you are teary and writhing in the bed. your phone is next to your head and without warning it rings startling both you and Kai, who you finally notice.
both of you are still as the ringtone sings alone in the silence. “answer it,” Kai’s voice is thick in his throat and you lean up on your elbows to grab the phone, shutting your knees to try and hide the wet spot on your panties as if he hadn't already seen it.
“I almost didn't think you would pick up,” is the first thing Yeonjun says, the sound of his crinkling sheets on the other line telling you he was tucking in for the night.
“I was…” another tear sliding down your cheek, eyes locked on huening who gives nothing away. “busy,” the phone pressed to your ear.
“busy? working out the problem I gave you?” he says it as a joke but you’re already too needy to take it well. your voice shakes ready to burst into tears, “You’re the worst you already know I can’t do it myself,” you blink up to the ceiling trying to hold back any more tears from slipping and to avoid Kai’s gaze.
“Where is kai? I left you in perfectly capable hands,”
“he was busy and I didn’t want to bother him,”
“But where is he now, you said was, so he must be done. His deadline was a few minutes ago,” you peek over to huening, his arms crossed still standing in the door watching you, eyes trying to see right through your legs. “He's here,” you whisper shyly.
“put me on speaker,”
“junnie,”
“put me on speaker,” no room for argument. you follow instructions balancing the phone on your knees so you can rest your elbow back down on the mattress. “I leave for three days and you guys can’t live without me?”
“Hyung-“
“huening we’ve been over this before if she needs to be taken care of she gets taken care of,”
“I’m not a house plant,” you quip, “ and I don’t need to be forced onto any-“
“you’re never forcing me,” Kai cuts in, “if you had asked I could have…” but he shakes his head not knowing how to continue.
“use your words,” Yeonjun pushed after Kai trails off, “You both get nowhere without asking, again we've been over this. kai you know what you're doing and she likes it, loves it, hell we both know she likes your fingers over mine,”
“junnie,” your blush is all down your chest now made to look worse by your white tank, your nipples are straining against the fabric. you don’t know why you always felt so shy around Kai, maybe it was because he was so much bigger than you even if you were a little older. he stood over you, took up space in the doorframe, and completely wrapped himself around you when you hugged, that added with the fact he too was shy only worsened the effect you had on each other. even after knowing each other for most of your lives.
Kai had already made it to the bed sitting right on the edge close enough to hear the phone better. “Pick yourself up, use your words, and ask for what you want. if I can’t even see you and I know exactly what it is you want then it should be easy for the two of you to grasp,”
“But what if…” Kai starts and you know he wants to bring up the one time he didn’t make you finish. It was years ago in high school when the three of us were still new to sex. Yeonjun was there to make you cum but it made Kai scared ever since and it only worsened his fear of repeating that night when Yeonjun wasn’t here to make up for him.
“huening that was like six years ago and I’ve seen you make her cum so hard she couldn’t form words before. Do you need me to walk you through it?”
Kai placed a hand around your ankle at the question sending a bolt to your core. your knee jerking in response sending the phone flying from your knee and onto your stomach still face up. “could you?”
“What's she wearing?”
Kai drags his hand up your calf and you clamp your knees together. “hardly anything,” his voice is throaty, his pupils blown. “the blush pink panties and a spaghetti strap tank,”
Yeonjun hums over the phone approvingly. “Summer always makes her dress so slutty,” he groans, “not fair I don’t get to see,”
“facetime?” Kai asks leaning over to place a feather-light kiss on your knee.
“you guys won’t be able to hold the phone the way I want to see,” he shuffles again in bed. “is she wet?”
you whimper at the question keeping your knees pinned together but Kai already knows the answer, “soaked even though she’s trying to hide it,”
“am not,” and Kai raises his brows but doesn’t push it, only lays another stomach-fluttering kiss on your knee.
“always wants to deny deny deny,” and Kai chuckles,” Pull her legs open I’m sure you will have to hold her thighs down,”
Kai follows his instructions, butterflying your legs to either side, hands eating up your thighs. Kai pulls himself onto the bed fully laying down to be level with your clothes core. you can feel his breath through the wet fabric and you try to wiggle away.
Kai squeezes the meat of your thigh again in warning. “take your time before taking her panties off,”
kai blows cool air onto your clothed wet center making you buck your hips so sensitive from the strain of the day. Kai keeps you pinned before leaning in to rub his nose over the sodden fabric, the tip brushing your clit sending a chill up your spine. He gives a little smile at your reaction, your teeth digging into your lip.
“I want to hear you baby,” Yeonjun took the words right from his mouth. Kai needs to hear your moans now with your tears drying on your cheeks, your desperate whines turning into desperate pleas.
Kai gives the smallest kiss to your clit and you try to chase the sensation. “Kai,” your pout is unheard as he lifts a finger to pull back your panties to reveal you to him.
and no matter how many times he’s faced your pussy it will forever be his favorite sight. your puffy lips begging to be sucked, clit swollen, and you never fail to be drenched and glistening. He licks his lips, you had mentioned him needing to eat and now he’s faced with his favorite meal.
“slow huening you always give her what she wants so fast let her wait,”
“junnie please, I’ve been waiting all day,” you try to roll your hips to meet Kai’s face but he pulls away keeping his finger hooked in your panties. it’s hard to completely move with his chest on your feet but it doesn’t stop you from trying when he latches onto your thigh leaving a trail of kisses and bites.
“Please,” you breathe and the chorus of both of them moaning makes your stomach flutter, they always make the prettiest noises.
Kai quits his teasing and gives you one last clit kiss before suddenly licking a path from your entrance to your clit where he latches on and gives a harsh suck. the sensation makes your knees jerk up and you reach a hand out to tangle in his hair, tugging hard. “oh fuck,” are the only coherent words Yeonjun can make out over the phone.
in Chicago, he’s spread out on his bed phone in one hand and his cock in the other. gripping the base to relieve some pressure but not jerking off just yet.
kai works your clit just the way you like and you can feel your impending orgasm building with how close you’ve been all night. kai let’s go of your thigh with one hand before gathering up your slick and prodding your entrance. your back arches giving him better access and you moan as he slips a finger in and then another.
“She's close,” Yeonjun breathes. He and Kai both know the change in your whimpering.
kai nips at your clit and you cry out as he presses the sweet gummy spot inside you that makes you see stars. you cum hard enough to have tears leaking again, your hand pulling Kai down harder on your clit before it’s too much and you have to let him go.
kai pulls away but not before licking you clean leaving you twitching. your pussy was swollen and he couldn’t wait to feel you strangling his cock the second he got it in you.
“See I told you that you didn’t have to worry,” Yeonjuns light laugh from the phone is followed by a weak moan. “legs up, fold her in half,”
Kai doesn't follow his orders first, picking up the phone and placing it on your chest. you were already spilling out of your tank so he took the opportunity to tug the straps down and reveal your tits to him. Kai bites his lip before leaning down to give you soft pecks all along your chest. “I didn’t even kiss you first I'm so sorry baby,” he mutters into your neck kissing up your jaw and to your mouth.
before you can say anything in return his mouth is in yours and you can taste yourself on his tongue. Now with him hovering over you your legs are free to wrap around him. tugging his sweatpants-covered cock closer to your entrance. He moans into your mouth before his large hand takes hold of your breast tweaking your nipple. “huening,” you moan, throwing your head back when he ruts into you. He leans down to latch his lips around your untouched breast, nipping you as he rolls his hips forward again.
the phone is close to Kai’s mouth and Yeonjuns breathing is labored on the other end. “I can’t wait any longer,” Yeonjun spits into his palm giving himself one loose tug, “I want to hear her cum again,”
Kai nods even if he can’t be seen over the phone and he pulls away from you tugging off his shirt by the back collar and throwing it behind him. he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats, a wet spot where he has been rubbing against you, tugging them down to let his cock slap his stomach. The release makes him moan, knowing just like Yeonjun he couldn’t wait and he needed to hear you moaning again. he wastes no time in tugging your ruined panties down your legs before placing his hands in the pit of your knees and bending you in half like Yeonjun suggested. your ankles are on Kai’s shoulders and he has the perfect view.
your hair all over the pillows, eyes half-lidded, you had taken over with tugging on your nipples, your tank top now a makeshift belt around your center, phone stuck to your chest from the sheen of sweat you now had.
you watched Kai drag a hand over his cock, hard and red waiting for you. He almost buckled at the feeling, his free hand wrapping around your thigh to pull you open. ���Look at you,” he whispers, taking the tip and dragging it through your wet folds. the sound is loud and Yeonjun chuckles “She sounds ready,”
but Kai’s not moving to slide into you he’s now back to teasing, running the head of his cock back and forth from your entrance to your clit without enough pressure. you roll your hips whining, “Hyuka please,” he shudders at the nickname before notching the mushroom tip of his cock inside you. it always amazed you how he could fit all of himself in you when before you had always believed you would never be able to take all of him. but he proves you wrong again as he pushes in inch by inch both of you moaning loud enough for Yeonjun to buckle all the way in Chicago. “fuck fuck fuck you sound so good,” he’s trying to go slow with the rhythm he tugs but he can’t keep himself in check the way you do for him.
kai bottoms out leaning forward and bending you properly in half before burying his nose into your neck to try and catch his breath.
you can feel him so deep you can’t think straight. his arms hugging your legs to him as he places an open palm over your ribs, the heat of his skin on yours letting you sink into the mattress. kai kisses the swell of your collarbone before pulling out an inch and pushing back in. You whimper at the sensation, weaving your fingers in his dark hair and pulling the strands. both of your boys loved their hair to be played with during sex or just resting next to each other.
kai pushes himself up placing his free hand next to your head for leverage, holding you still by your side with the other. he pulls out almost all the way and you try to chase him making him giggle, “Patience love I’ll give you more,” he slowly inches in and you hum arching into him. “look at you, how did I get so lucky? hum?” the praise makes you preen and Yeonjun approves, “so willing for us,” he grunts the soft sound of his hand slapping heard.
kai picks up the pace to match the sound, he's knocking the cradle of your legs, heavy balls matching the beat on your skin. ”deeper,” it’s a throaty ask from your lips but Kai hears you and sinks his hips, elbow bending slightly as his other hand tugs on your tank top using it like a handle. and he goes deeper and you swear you can feel him in your throat, your moan not even sounding like you anymore. kai is now pounding into you finding the heady rhythm Yeonjun set with ease, fucking into you so well that the phone slips from your chest into the crook of your neck pressing the speaker into your ear. Yeonjuns moans are louder making your toes curl your second orgasm building heavy in your stomach. “I want it hyuka please cum in me,”
Kai’s movements falter at your plea, his arm holding him up buckling from his stutter. “Beg,” Yeonjun mutters knowing exactly what Kai needs, if anything Yeonjun thinks huening has a thing for hearing you beg and whimper and that’s why he holds out so long when it comes to you after you both have overcome your shyness. but jun knows that when you both get to this point in the night Kai needs you to beg for him.
“Please I can take it,” Kai’s head falls to your ear, his moans in one and Yeonjuns in the other, “please I’ve been good,”
“no she hasn’t,” Yeonjun groans, “she was looking at dirty pictures in class,”
Kai almost can’t take the accusation, the trembling in his arm traveling down his spine, he wants to cum, knows it’s going to happen at any moment but he wants you there with him. “p-pictures?” He can hardly get any words out.
“I wasn’t,” you shake your head before crying out as Kai delivers a powerful thrust.
“she was and I don’t think she should cum now since she’s denying it,”
“Yeonjun please,” you have tears threatening to spill. your hand in Kai’s hair pushing him closer to your throat your other one scratching at the back of his neck, “please hyuka I wasn’t, please I want to cum please please pl-“Kai takes his thumb and shoves it into your mouth to quiet you, your tank top now forgotten as you suck his finger. “promise to take it all,” he’s breathless hot air fanning over your skin.
“I want it please hyuka,” you whine when he takes his thumb back to wedge between the two of you to press on your clit. you jolt at the contact and somehow he sinks deeper between your legs, both of you trying to chase the feeling again.
you can feel him twitch inside you, the sign he’s about to cum. “junnie?”
“I’m right there baby,” his breathy moans growing louder by the second.
Kai presses down on your clit stilling inside you as he cums. his moans pressed into your ear. The heat of him as he gives weak strokes to ride out his high triggers your orgasm right after your head falls back into the pillows, legs shaking as your pussy flutters around Kai. Yeonjun follows right after, his curses stained.
the room is silent as Kai finally lets his arm go, letting his full weight lay on you. your legs are numb as you feel Kai's light kisses behind your ear. “you did so well,” your happy sigh is enough to make Kai grin against your skin.
“I made a mess,” Yeonjun mutters, “I wish I had my girl to come lick me clean,”
“junnie,” the image making you pulse around Kai’s softening cock, it wouldn't be the first time Yeonjun had made you follow the trail he left up his stomach.
kai finally rises back up letting your legs fall as he pulls out. the steady leak of your combined cum warm and staining the sheets.
you’re completely limp in the bed as huening moves to grab a wet rag to wipe you up. “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow night,” Yeonjuns smile heard over the line.
“I can’t believe you told Kai I was looking at dirty pictures,” your hand falls over your eyes as you feel huening spread your legs, the warm rag soothing to your heated flesh.
“you did look at my dirty photo”,
“It was like a flash bang i wasn’t expecting it while in class,”
“So you were looking at dirty pictures in class,” Kai laughs, kissing your inner thigh before guiding your legs into a new pair of clean panties. He had already put on new briefs himself before tugging off the soiled comforter to toss in the wash later. He was always so meticulous in picking up after sex where Yeonjun could easily have snuggled in dirty sheets and all.
“not really,” you sit up to tug your tank top back into place pulling your phone along with you. “just hurry back already, and let’s not bring it up again,”
Kai pulls the spare blanket from the closet before pulling himself under with you. “yeah hyung hurry back the bed feels empty with only the two of us in it,”
#smut#txt#txt smut#txtsmut#yeonjun#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun smut#txt yeonjun#txt yeonjun smut#choi yeonjun#tomorrow x together#huening kai#beomgyu#taehyun#soobin#huening kai x reader#huening kai smut#txt huening kai#txt huening kai smut#Kpop smut#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#yeonjun hard thoughts#yeonjun hard hours#huening kai hard hours#huening kai hard thoughts#hueningkai#hueningkai x reader#hueningkai smut#yeonkai x reader
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How to romance the lovely Miss Hunter
By finding out the tropes you like to read in romance novels, he might know just how you would like this love to be.
ಇ. Character x Reader/MC
Included parts in order: Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Caleb
ಇ. Tags: soft, sweet, fluff, cheesy (it's a warning), teasing, established relationship (except for Caleb's part), roleplaying (with Rafayel), jealousy (Xavier being jealous with his other identity - Lumiere), mentioned of all the romance tropes I like to write about, childhood friends to lovers, adopted brother and sister, princess and her merman slave, damsel in distress.
ಇ. Word count: 4k3
ಇ. Requested by Krys.
ಇ. Masterlist
ಇ. Request
𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍
"What have you done just now?! "That was my first kiss."
The princess exclaimed. She then covered her lips with her fingers and concealed her face behind the veil that had just been removed.
The attractive mermaid, with his bare chest revealed beneath the water, smiled, half cold, half alluring. He migrated close to to the Princess and declared:
“Now you are mine.”
The book in Rafayel’s hand rolled from the sofa to the floor, and he began laughing uncontrollably, crawling even. You seized the book in anger, folded it flat, and requested:
“Please stop.”
Rafayel covered his lips with a palm and smiled. His eyes shone with tears, his cheeks went scarlet, and his stomach ached from laughing so hard. He leaned absolutely back on the sofa and gazed at you.
"Your Highness, you do have a hobby of reading such cheesy love stories."
Rafayel replicated the dialogue from the book, making you even more enraged. You shot him a stare.
"Hmm." You gripped the book hard in your hands. Ever since he caught you reading this romantic novel inspired by the legend of Lemuria, Rafayel had been teasing you by reenacting passages from the written scenes, but in a sardonic style that left you flush with embarrassment.
"Your Highness, where are you heading to?" Rafayel grabbed your wrist as you turned to go. "Do not forget that now, you are mine."
Rafayel restrained another chuckle. You violently yanked free from his grip.
“I'm… sorry…” Rafayel cleared his throat. He eventually came to the decision to stop this childish game.
"With the exception of a few references to Lemurian mythology, the rest are too… much. The author has let her imagination wander too far.”
"You are insulting other people's interests!" You frowned and responded. "I enjoy reading passionate love stories like this. Is there a problem with it?”
Rafayel stared at you with an expression of pain. You were the one who got furious, so why did he appear to be more upset?
“If you wish to learn about Lemuria, wouldn't it be better to just ask me directly? You don't need to read stories like that.”
The book in your hand was titled The Lemurian Kiss. The plot focused on a handsome mermaid and the princess he was forced to obey. Tara first exposed you to it, which piqued your interest. Then you were absorbed in the love and resentment, as if it was your own narrative from another life.
Rafayel hated it. Yet you did not understand, if he disliked it so much, why did he even bother to read it more attentively than yourself? Even when he tormented you with passages from the narrative that made you blush, you had to concede that he had read and comprehended it better than you could.
Perhaps it was due to his Lemurian ancestry. Perhaps he had heard a similar story elsewhere in his long life. You had no idea how long he had lived, and you understood very little about Lemurians. Indeed, when you bought this book, you anticipated it to disclose more about his kind than he was eager to share.
Suddenly, you came up with an idea. You gave up attempting to get out of Rafayel's grip. To his astonishment, you crouched down closer to him, giving him no opportunity to sit up. A hand rested on Rafayel's chest, gently forcing him down into the sofa.
"So? Will you tell your beloved princess all the secrets of Lemuria then?"
You altered your voice to seem icy and pompous, like the princess in the tale. Your gaze fixed on Rafayel's, making it impossible for him to ignore you. He was completely taken aback by your abrupt shift in attitude.
“You… What are you doing?”
“Is that how you speak to a princess?”
You appeared unsatisfied, and before Rafayel attempted to get up, you opted to sit on top of him.
“Ouch! That's painful!" He shouted. “You're so heavy! Get off!”
"How insolent of you!" You grabbed Rafayel's chin so he could obediently stay down in place. "I'll have your scales peeled off for daring to insult my weight like this."
He snorted coldly while he was still pinned down on the sofa. "That's it! You're bullying me!"
"Isn't this your favorite scene from the story? When the merman attempted to flee, the princess sat on him. I'm merely offering help since I see you immersing yourself so much in the role from the story there.”
Rafayel's sullen attitude brought you a delicious triumph. He turned his face away, as if he was upset at being bullied. He stated:
“It's best that you don't read these kinds of stories anymore!”
Pleased, you softly patted his cheeks as he puffed them up like a toddler. You stood up, satisfied, and said:
“I'm going to let it slide. Next time, don't tease me like that anymore."
But Rafayel showed obvious disappointment. He grasped your wrist.
“Is that all?”
"Huh?"
“Are you really going to leave?” He grumbled. “You are not dedicated to the role you play after all.”
Rafayel sat up immediately, then he pulled you down on the sofa and in a blink of an eye, you were in his arms. “Once you start a role, you have to be committed to it.”
Rafayel's long fingers slid down the bridge of your nose, then paused at your lips. You held your breath, looking at him, waiting.
“Her Highness loses interest too quickly.”
You grinned, recalling the personal passages between the two main protagonists in the novel. Sometimes you put yourself and Rafayel in it. How astonishing that this was truly happening.
“Entertain me then. Would you?”
Your clear voice rang out. Your fingertips had rendered Rafayel's face red, and you could hear his heart pounding furiously in your ear.
“I can grant all your wishes.” Rafayel held your hand and placed it on his chest, then began to kiss you. First your hair, then your forehead, a lingering kiss on the tip of your nose, and finally he stopped for a moment at your lips. “I can even make you forget all the cheesy things a human wrote about Lemurians in that book.”
Rafayel's fingers gently parted your lips a little. Yet still left you hanging.
“After all, Her Highness needs not a work of fiction, when she already has a true Lemurian, in the flesh, right here.”
At that moment, the merman offered the princess a long-awaited kiss, as if reconnecting an incomplete romance from the past life.
𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓
Those days, Xavier noticed how you often had your nose buried in a book. It was nothing like daily life science research, nor was it like the ones you would usually read. It was brand new, with a silver mask on the cover.
He also realized another thing, that you always laughed to yourself while reading it. Occasionally, you would give him a covert glance, then go back to bury yourself in the pages of the book and smile. Other times, you would hold the entire open book in your hands and roll around on the bed with immense excitement, which he could not comprehend.
Then, one day, he picked it up, that thick large book. What caught his eye was the title of the story: Moonlight Lover. He rolled his eyes.
Xavier's slightly trembling fingers opened the book in a slow motion. The page you were reading was marked with a lovely tiny star-shaped bookmark. He failed to take his eyes off the words presented under the light.
“My beautiful lady, fear not! I have come for you. I will protect you with my life.”
“Oh, my Lumiere…”
A very complicated expression appeared on Xavier's face. He read on, and the next paragraphs perplexed him.
In the midst of fierce battle, Lumiere gave his lover a passionate kiss. Time stopped, the moonlight shone on two hearts in perfect harmony. Right at the climax, you walked in. With a haste you snatched the book from his hands.
“This… is mine!”
You hid it behind your back. Your face turned red as if you had just done something so embarrassing.
"You… Why have you read my book?"
"You…" Xavier was ready to say something, but hesitated. His look remained stunned, as if he had just witnessed something so horrific that he could not speak. Yet that may be true.
"Tara let me borrow this book!" You spoke fast, not daring to look him in the eyes. "She said this… this is the best-selling romance novel in Linkon…"
"I see." Xavier responded. "Do you like reading romantic stories?"
"S-Sometimes…" You murmured. With the book in your hand, you swiftly turned to the bookshelf and placed it there. As you turned around, you nearly ran into Xavier. When did he come to stand right behind you? "Oops!"
"S-Sometimes…" You murmured. With the book in your hand, you swiftly turned to the bookshelf and placed it there. As you turned around, you nearly ran into Xavier. When did he arrive to stand directly behind you? "Oops!"
You exclaimed with surprise. You promptly drew away. Your back was ready to collide with the bookshelf, but Xavier's extensive hand saved you.
His face was so close. Somehow, you imagined that behind a silver mask, he would look just like Lumiere, which was bizarre.
"Xavier…" You quietly uttered his name, indicating that you were safe and that he could let you free. Yet Xavier held you even tighter.
“Do you like Lumiere that much?” He questioned abruptly, his expression not even trying to cover his evident sulking.
“Lumiere… It's merely fiction…” You defended.
“What do you like about him? His flashy appearance? Or his way of flirting with the female lead?”
Xavier's face stiffened. You caught his eyes gradually darken.
“In stories like this,” you clarified. “The male lead often appears just as the main protagonist is in peril to defend her. I simply appreciate their love..."
You could feel Xavier's heavy breathing on your cheek. His hand, which was previously on your back, then moved down to your hip, pushing you towards him so that your bodies were pressed against each other.
“I do the same too, don't I?” Xavier's voice was calm and soft, yet contained so much bitterness. “I will always defend you. I'm always there when you need me."
“Yes… That is true…” You replied, casting a quick glance at him. He rested his chin on your head and wrapped his arms around you in secure, as if afraid Lumiere would appear and take you away at any moment.
“So, me and Lumiere, who do you like more?”
Xavier's question left you hanging in confusion. Before you could respond, he added:
“Lumiere cannot hold you like this. He cannot be there whenever you call. He cannot hang out with you. Cannot be close to you… like this…”
A kiss from Xavier landed on your bare shoulder. You felt dizzy after being embraced with such force. You gasped:
“Erm… Lumiere is a… a legend… Even if he's real… he's probably a lot older than me…”
Xavier sighed deeply once more. He leaned in toward you and pushed you closer to the bookshelf.
“Then tell me. Do you like me more, or him?"
Just when you thought everything was settled, Xavier continued to ask that question. You knew all too well that you could not get out of this situation if you refused to give him the answer he needed. Yet the look on his face made you want to taunt him even more.
“Well, let's see. Lumiere has a luxury attire, exceptional abilities, and—”
Without waiting for you to finish the sentence, Xavier's lips locked your mouth. His kisses were always as gentle as his demeanor, but this was more intense than ever. You were held in his arms, lips devoured by him to the point that every breath slowly left you, your body and heart trembling as you were forced to surrender to him in such a manner.
When Xavier let you go, your mind already went blank. Who was Lumiere again? You no longer remembered. You could not recall.
Xavier gazed down at you, his lips parted slightly into a smile. He removed the book off the shelf and placed it back in your hands.
“Return it to Tara once you're done reading.”
He turned away. At that moment, you concluded that you could read every love story ever written in this world, but the one true male protagonist in your life could only be Xavier.
𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆
There was a book café established on the same street as Akso Hospital recently. And so you have found another place to go while waiting for a certain doctor to finish his shift.
Originally, you intended to pass the time by sipping a drink and munching some sweets. Yet you had no idea that you would also be drawn into the pages of books there, especially a very thrilling love story about a man. The doctor who led two divergent lifestyles.
He was a doctor at an esteemed hospital, also a cold-blooded killer who must conceal his identity from the person he loved. Right from the very first lines, you were drawn into the story that was both tragic and sensational. Especially when the main character resembled a doctor whom you admired. You were so absorbed in reading that you failed to notice the time. You went around the café, holding the book in your hands, and read without paying attention to the world. As a consequence, you ran into someone.
“Zayne?” You cried out in surprise. He stared at you first, then at the book on the floor. He leaned down to pick it up.
“The secrets of Doctor Li?” Zayne read the title aloud. In a haste you used your hands to protect the book from his inquisitive gaze. When he returned it, you clutched it securely against your chest and purposefully turned the cover toward you.
“Well… This is…” You searched for an explanation. “My reference book…”
"Is that so?" Zayne's eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Another one of your reference books?”
You were perplexed while recalling that you had lately left another book in Zayne's office. Of course, you claimed that it helped you understand more about the medical field, and he had pointed out some of its factual misunderstandings. This time, just by looking at the cover, Zayne understood precisely what type of books you were reading, and they had nothing to do with medicine.
“I thought medical books were supposed to be displayed on the other side of the coffee shop, right?” Zayne replied nonchalantly.
“Ah… It was a bit crowded over there, so I moved to this area…”
Zayne turned around to look at the other side of the café. There was not a single person seen. On the contrary, the place you had chosen had more readers.
Realizing what a mistake you had made, you quickly pulled Zayne's hand out of there. “Let's go, Doctor Zayne! I've been waiting for you and now I'm hungry!”
A few days later, you caught Zayne intently reading something at his desk. Moving closer, you recognized the very familiar cover of the book almost immediately.
“The secrets of Doctor Li?! So you're reading it?"
Being caught in the act by you, since you had decided to come to the hospital on your lunch break that day without a notice, Zayne could only chuckle. He covered half of his face with the book, leaving only his eyes visible behind the pair of glasses. You knew he was adjusting the muscles around his face.
“Yes. Hello."
"You. Are. Reading. This. Too!" You uttered every single word as if this was a big deal.
Zayne calmly lowered the book, closed then placed it neatly on the table. He replied:
“I also want to refer to some things from there.”
You appeared perplexed. “Didn't you say that this book is wrong in even basic healthcare knowledge?”
Zayne's serene demeanor belied a sense of perplexity in his gaze. His eyes never lied. He immediately turned away.
"Medical expertise is not what I am looking for in it."
“What is it then?” You placed a hand on your chin thoughtfully. “Is there anything that even Doctor Know-It-All Zayne has to learn from love stories? Unless it's…”
You abruptly discontinued talking. It appeared you already knew the answer.
Zayne glanced at you for a brief moment. He pursed his lips, but it was evident he was smiling.
“People easily find what they want in fiction.” He explained. “For instance, if a girl likes to read romance, then she is waiting for such a sweet love story.”
“That doesn't sound like something Doctor Zayne would say.” You inquired once again: "Are those actually Yvonne's words?"
You guessed, given that you just witnessed the nurse passing the identical book to Doctor Greyson in the corridor.
Zayne confessed that Yvonne had suggested that he read the romantic novels you enjoyed to better understand you.
Zayne admitted that Yvonne had hinted that he should read the type of romance novels you liked to understand you better.
“I've never dated anyone before.” Zayne did not look you in the eye, but his fingers were squeezing your hand as he stood up. “At the start of our relationship, I had certain concerns. I'd want to know which type of partner you prefer, or how you wish to be loved."
You could not hold back the happy smile on your lips anymore. The fact that Zayne was so open about what he was thinking like this was enough to bring you closer to him.
“You can just ask me. Just like how you would always answer my questions about anything.”
You took initiative to stand on tiptoe and wrapped your arms around Zayne's neck. He gently rubbed his nose against the tip of yours.
“I like to be loved by you in your own way,” you whispered very softly, just enough for the two of you to hear even though there was no one else in the office. “There is no need for any stereotypes. Just be yourself, because that's who I like.”
As soon as you finished speaking, you placed a gentle kiss on Zayne's cheek and added: "Do you find me easy to please?"
Zayne lifted you up and let your feet rest on his. “You are as easy to please as a three-year-old child. Just give you sweets and a few romance books, you would obediently sit still all day."
“As expected, the person who understands me best is certainly Doctor Zayne!”
𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃
During the summer, after graduating from high school and waiting for the official announcement from the Hunter Association, you spent the whole day lying at home resting. And, with so much spare time, you began re-reading literature that you had previously missed.
While you were giggling with a romance book in your hands, Caleb stepped in. He snatched it and said:
“Does Gran know you're still reading these things?”
“First,” you said. “Grandma is not at home. Second, I am old enough to read whatever I like now.”
You extended a hand towards Caleb, but he refused to give the book back. He quickly glanced at the cover, then looked at you with a serious expression.
“Pip-squeak, did you forget that I and Grandma had to confiscate your books?”
You crossed your arms over the chest and huffed at him. “Speaking of which, you were a snitch who told her about my books.”
“You stayed up all night reading until your eyes got dark circles.” Caleb laughed. “While you must focus on studying. Books like this will give you a false perspective on love. I'm just worried that any boy would say a few sweet words like in those stories, and you would give him your heart."
“Do you even know what I read?” You sighed. “But you got exactly what you wanted. I've graduated from high school without having had a single romance. Now give me back the book so I can continue daydreaming, okay?"
You sat up straight and were about to reach out to take the book back when he held it up higher. He shook his head.
"Not yet. I must read it first to ensure that this book is safe.”
He sat in another armchair and proceeded to open the book to the page you were already reading. Quick as lightning, you darted forward and placed your hands over to stop him.
"No way! This… You can't read it!”
Caleb glanced at you with perplexed eyes. With just one hand, he easily pushed you away.
“I said, you can't read it!”
The more you attempted to reclaim the book, more firmly Caleb held both of your hands. He rapidly read the stuff you never wished him to know. You bit your lip and dropped your head to the floor in ashamed defeat.
He knew.
He knew what you read. He knew what kind of love you were desperately hoping for.
A moment later, after about ten pages, Caleb turned to look at his sister, who was sitting on the ground in her pajamas and her hair undone still. You simply wanted to hide yourself away so he would never find you, since you knew he would only lecture you.
In fact, you were waiting for that lecture to happen, but Caleb said absolutely nothing for a while. He closed the book and placed it on the sofa.
“So…” He eventually spoke. “The story you are reading… Is it the romance between a brother and his sister?”
“Foster brother and sister.” You added it right away. “They are orphans… Like us.”
You deliberately said the last words in the most quiet tone. But Caleb heard it. He cleared his throat.
“So you like romantic stories… like this?”
You covertly gazed at him before turning away immediately. This room suddenly became so airless.
When you were alone, you could let your imagination run wild. You could prolong the daydream in which you were free to express your feelings. Just like the heroine in the story. Yes, you adored that story, because it told you about the romance that bloomed between two orphans who were adopted and fell in love with each other as they grew up. You enjoyed portraying yourself as the female lead and dreaming that he was the male lead.
That was probably why you dated nobody during your school years. That was probably why you always waited for his vacation to greet him when he returned from Skyhaven.
You wanted to be connected to him in a different way than being his adopted sister.
Then he already knew everything. How could you simply bury this guilt? You dared not look at him anymore. Nonetheless, Caleb sat down in front of you, on the floor. His hand was placed very close to yours.
“Well… You could have told me that you…” Caleb stopped mid-sentence. You also did not know what to say in this case. Then he decided to leave.
During that weekend, you never spoke to each other save for brief phrases when compelled to say something.
Caleb returned home the following weekend, but he arrived by the doorstep late at night. The unexpected summer downpour soaked him. You soon let him inside and after taking a shower, Caleb sat in the living room alone with his hair still dripping.
“You should dry your hair.” You spoke, in your hand a clean cotton towel.
Caleb grinned, but averted your gaze. "You usually help me with it."
You refused to say anything else and proceeded gently towards him. There was a chaotic sense between the two of you, as if a fire that had been smoldering for a long time suddenly flared up in violence.
You did not sit next to Caleb, but rather stood behind the sofa, drying his hair. Caleb's eyes were closed, he leaned back slightly, and his gorgeous face was directed towards you. If it had not been for the cotton towel, his hair and head would have likely touched your abdomen.
"It's done." You spoke quietly. You slowly took one step backwards. But Caleb reached out and held you back.
“Pip-squeak, don't go.”
You lost your breath and lowered the head to look down at him. His eyes opened a little, just enough to capture the image of you half confused, half expectant like this.
“Do you still read that story?”
Your head shook slightly as an answer.
"How come? Why did you stop?"
“It makes me… think about nonsense. Didn't you want me to stop reading those kinds of novels and hoping too much for a romance?"
Caleb laughed. His cold fingers touched your cheek, then slid down to the corner of your ruby lips.
“What a pity. The two characters in that story seemed to… truly be together eventually.”
He knew, since he had read ten more pages than you. You never picked up that book again after that day.
“Of course, because they are the male and female protagonists...” You replied in a soft tone.
“You can also be the main character,” said Caleb. “You are the main character in your own story. So… How would you write it?”
He looked at you for a long moment, waiting for your reaction. Waiting for a sign from you. Waiting for you to let him in.
At last, you allowed yourself to be immersed in his touch, his breath and the delicate aroma of soap on his skin. You rubbed against his palm, your head lowered slightly to get a little closer to him.
If you were the heroine in that story, you would hope this dream to never fade.
“I want… I want Caleb to be mine…”
#love and deepspace#fanfic#fanfiction#rafayel#xavier#zayne#caleb#homura#seiya#rei#mahiru#qi yu#shen xinghui#li shen#xia yizhou#lads x reader#lads x you#lnds x reader#l&ds x reader#rafayel x you#rafayel x reader#rafayel x mc#xavier x you#xavier x reader#xavier x mc#zayne x mc#zayne x reader#zayne x you#caleb x mc#caleb x reader
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omg hello! i missed you so much!!! 💖 would you consider reposting arcade again?? it was legit the best thing i’ve ever read omg i was so sad when i couldnt find it anymore
its fine if you cant tho!! im glad youre backkkk💖💖💖
ofc i can, i’m glad you liked it <3
arcade | p.js
“i’m out of control, full power up”
💿now playing: arcade by nct dream
❯ summary: Jisung’s been nothing but busy lately, so when you hear he got the weekend of your anniversary off, you can’t help but plan something to spend time with him. Expect, the only thing jisung wants after his busy month is you — and he’s not gonna let your silly arcade date get in the way of that.
❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader
❯ genre: established relationship, smut, fluffish.
��� words: 3.5k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, fingering, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the name baby, jisung takes pictures whilst fingering reader in a photobooth idk???
"You brought us to an arcade for our three year anniversary?"
You look over to Jisung standing by your side as the pair of you stood in front of the arcade entryway with the giant neon sign above your heads.
"Yeah, surprise - who doesn't love a date night with pizza and an arcade?" You grin, trying to hide the look of nervousness fighting to show once you notice his frown.
“Baby,” he groans, whiny, “I thought we were gonna go home after the pizza.”
You may have lied to him about that.
When you told Jisung about tonight’s date, he originally objected. He wanted to have a chilled night in with just the two of you — alone. Something he hadn’t had for the past four weeks he’d been strung up at work. Yet, you insisted that the two of you celebrated your three year anniversary just like you had done for your first and second.
So instead, the two of you came up with a compromise: head to your favourite pizza place, then come home and watch a movie snuggled together on the couch. In Jisung’s mind ‘watch a movie’ was code for letting his hands roam all over your body whilst he watched you whither and squirm, but he figured it was best to not discuss the minute details.
But don’t get him wrong. Just because he wanted to have a quiet night in didn't mean he hasn’t missed you — because oh he has. He’s only bothered the rest of the dreamies with his annual ‘I miss her’ speech every other hour.
And whilst typically Jisung loved to spend every passing minute of the day with you; right now, all he could think about was how much he wanted to be balls deep in the cunt he’d missed so much — not spending his time in some arcade.
"I haven't been inside one of these since I was a little kid," you tell him. “Please Sungie, just for an hour.” You begin tugging on his hands.
“I don’t know, Y/N. Aren’t we a bit too old to be playing in the arcade?” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Pretty please!”
You hope the small flutter in your eyelashes is enough to win over the hesitant man. And you know it will because he’s told you several times not to give him those signature doe eyes, because he can’t ever bring himself to say no to them.
"Fine."
He grasps your hand, threading your fingers together as he starts to lead the two of you inside. You're instantly greeted with the loud electronic sound effects from the various games, along with the random music playing inside.
There's lights flashing everywhere, and you notice a bunch of people sitting at the bar and in booths near the front of the arcade, along with a bunch wandering around all of the games.
Jisung looks sideways before gesturing his head to the row of retro games, "what do you wanna play?" He asks.
“You can pick first, because I’m such a good girlfriend.”
He can’t help but smile at you — because he knows you're right.
“How about we play some pinball?
"I take it back," you say with a pointed look, "I’ve seen you play that with Chenle and I’m definitely gonna lose.”
“Too late, you’ve already given me the power,” he shrugs and pulls your arm over to where the game is situated.
“Ugh, Jisung. There’s no point, I already know I’m gonna lose,” you try to protest.
“Stop complaining,” he grasps your hips to turn you around to face the pinball machine then comes to stand behind you.
He takes your hands and places them on the buttons either side of the machine in front of you. You feel your cheeks flush when you feel Jisung’s chin rest on your shoulder, as he guides your fingers over the controls and silently coaches you through the game.
You don’t know how he always does it but even here, he's managing to create some form of sexual tension between the two of you at a pinball machine.
“Jisung..” you whisper as he places teasing kisses along your neck.
“Shhh, I’m just trying to help you out,” his lips brush against your neck as he continues hitting the buttons at a constant steady speed. “Besides, I think I’ve found my new favourite way to play pinball tonight."
Eventually, the ball shoots straight down between the two flippers, drawing the game to an end. He’d been doing so well that you wanted to turn around and kiss him but he pressed you harder against the machine, dipping into the crook of your neck to tease your ear.
"You've got no idea how badly I wish I could bend you over this and fuck you right here, right now."
It sent shivers down your whole body as you felt him grin against your skin when he noticed the sharp inhale of air you sucked in at his words.
Jisung knows you're shy, so he’s not surprised that you try to snake away from his grip at his crude remark.
"Look, we got a new high score," he says while he slips his hands from over yours and slides them up your arms. Pretending he didn't just whisper something that dirty. “We make a pretty good team.”
“Yeah ‘cause you did all the work,” you sulk.
You see the red digital writing flashing on the scoreboard, then his arms snake around to link across your lower stomach and pull you firmer against him. To anyone watching you look like a typical couple being affectionate, but the tension makes it feel the furthest thing from innocent.
"You know exactly what you're doing right now, Jisung Park," you huff, trying to control how flustered you feel, "We’re here to play games."
He presses a kiss to your cheek, before murmuring, "I am playing games. And so far I think I'm winning."
As he speaks he lets one of his hands slip down to graze over the front of your crotch, which he swears is an accident when you sternly say his name. But you can’t deny the way the touch made you jolt before he pulls away and steps back. You’d missed his touch — missed being with him like this.
But this was not the place. So you take his hand and turn the two of you to walk off like nothing happened.
The two of you continued to play a handful of arcade games. The classics, retro games, new games — Jisung had even managed to secure you a fluffy teddy bear from the claw game after you mentioned it being ‘impossible’.
You’d been taking it in turns to choose a game each, but when you mentioned the arcade photo booth, your boyfriend had started to get apprehensive.
After some of your amazing buttering up skills with puppy dog eyes, he agreed and he pulled the curtain back for you to get inside, then closes the door on the booth.
He sat down first on the small seat, and when you went to sit next to him he grabbed your waist and pulled you down onto his lap instead. He takes some coins from his pocket and starts putting them in the slot.
You try to get off his lap to sit beside him before the timer starts but he doesn’t let you.
“Just look at the camera and smile."
Once you hear the timer counting down the two of you start posing. But just before the last beep sounds, you get the idea to grab hold of Jisung’s face and let your lips mush against his cheek causing him to scrunch his nose up.
"That’s not fair," he says the second he hears the beeping start again.You stick your tongue out at him and his eyes narrow. “Fine, if that’s the game we’re playing.”
You both look back at the camera and offer smiles, kisses and peace signs. But at the last beep, Jisung gets the idea to move both of his hands to cup over your chest, groping your boobs.
Your mouth falls open as you gasp in shock while Jisung starts laughing.
You try to pull his hands away, "Okay fine, point taken mister grabby hands."
Jisung is practically giggling to himself, whilst you wait for the timer to start again.
“Alright alright, we'll take a serious one now.” He says, placing his chin on your shoulder, as you both look at the camera.
But once again, as the third beeping starts he quickly says, “Do you think people would notice if I made you cum while we're in here?"
Your body stiffens in shock as the picture is taken. Jisung is bursting with laughter and you're taken aback.
Jisung likes sex. He loves sex in fact — especially with you. But he never does this. Sure he teases you when you're out and about — how could he not when you’re so beautiful and perfect for him. But he’s never insinuated doing something so sexual in public like this before.
But here the two of you are. Waiting for the timer to start again, but this time you’re anticipating the shit he was going to pull when the final beep comes — and he does not disappoint. Because his hands slide up your legs, dipping into your inner thighs and squeezing them.
"Jisung," you warn him, "behave yourself."
The beeping starts again, but Jisung doesn't move his hands, and starts to massage his fingers higher.
When the last tick happens, he moves his face to press a kiss to your jaw, and you feel his breath hitting your skin from his nose.
He starts to inch your legs a bit further apart to let his thumbs graze over the crease where your thighs meet your pelvis.
“Ive missed you so fucking much baby,” he whines. “I need you so bad.”
“Jisung not here,” you sigh as his hands start working to warm up your skin.
“Why not? Wouldn’t you like the thought of me getting you off in here? Trying not to get caught?"
If his face wasn't so close to yours you wouldn't be able to hear him over the loud music in the arcade and how low his voice has gotten.
You give him a confused frown, thinking he surely can't be fucking serious but when you do he takes the opportunity to press his lips against you, kissing you while the camera snaps the last picture.
Your stomach is knotting along with your heart beating faster and you feel that familiar heat between your legs but you’d never tell him that — and he’d never tell you that he knows you keep it from him.
"Would you?" He asks again when he breaks the kiss.
You look at him like he's lost his mind. "You're joking right?" You can't be serious - Jisung people get their pictures taken in here, someone could walk in, you can't-"
He makes your words stop and your breath hitch in your throat as he moves his hand up under your skirt and cups his hand between your legs.
"That's not what I asked you," he says letting his eyes trace over your face, then leans closer, "Would you enjoy it?"
“Jisung, this is so unlike you, are you even hearing what you’re asking me?”
He moves his leg a bit and wedges his heel against the edge of the door so it can't be pulled open, "I know exactly what I’m asking you, so answer me."
"We’re supposed to be taking pictures, Sung,” you try changing the subject, and ignore the pressure of his hand pressed against you.
"Oh god we will," he says like it should be obvious.
And now you’re looking even more caught off guard.
“I'd fucking kill to have some pictures of you getting off. Have them to look at them whenever I’m needy and miss you.”
Jisung starts to massage the heel of his palm very slowly against you, adding more pressure over your underwear as you try to squeeze your legs closed but he holds them with his other hand to keep them apart.
"We can't-" it takes very fibre in your body to attempt to protest this, but you easily allow him to cut you off.
"Yes we fucking can," he has that sly look on his face, "But if you don't want to, we won't. It's up to you. Should I stop?"
You exhale a weak breath as he replaces the heel of his palm with his fingers dancing over your underwear, massaging slow circles that make your hips shift.
"Won’t people think it's weird if we're in here too long." you fumble over your words which makes Jisung smile while he bites on his lip.
"Don't worry I'll be quick," he says knowing you’re only making excuses instead of admitting what you really want.
Your eyes drift closed as you sigh, feeling his fingers move against you to create a friction that's only making the throb between your legs worsen. You have absolutely no common sense when it comes to this man and his fucking fingers.
"Should I stop?" He repeats in a low voice, moving his mouth to start to kiss along your jaw.
As usual with him, your functioning brain checks out while your subconscious takes over and you shake your head feeling your breathing start to go shallow.
"You want me to make you cum, yeah? Is that right baby?" His words are slightly muffled as he moves his free hand from your inner thigh and brushes your hair back over your shoulder so he can move his mouth to your neck, "I need words baby."
You should be rational and tell him to stop. But you don't. You wouldn’t dare. You didn’t want him to. So instead you say what you do want, and breathe out a quiet "yes."
Jisung’s own breathing is getting heavier, and the tension in this small enclosed space feels like it's compressing both of you closer together. When he hears your approval, his hand between your legs bunches up the front of your skirt. When he slips it up he snakes his hand over your stomach to push down into your underwear.
A faint groan echoes in Jisung’s throat the second his fingers feel your bare skin, exploring around your underwear to feel the slickness there.
"You’ve made a mess. Missed me this much, huh?” his voice is low, while he drags his warm lips up your neck.
You only manage to nod your head, your brain focused on squirming your hips to find some kind of friction again. He finally rests the pads of his fingers against your throbbing clit, starting to tease circles that force a quiet whimper out of you. Your eyes are still closed as excitement and neediness flood your nerves.
For doing something that should be wrong, it feels so damn right, and it's all you can think of. Feeling him is all you can think about.
"You sure I can take some pictures?" He checks, keeping his movements steady as your hips start to circle against his hand,
You don't respond at first—you can’t—too caught up in how this is feeling, and when he dips his fingers down to your pussy to collect more arousal on his fingers before moving back to your clit and applying more pressure, your head falls forward as you pant out a strained, "You - fuck, yes, you can."
He chuckles hearing how fucked out you are for him, and he’s only just started. But it’s when you hold onto the thigh he’s been using to pry your legs open that his eyes darken with need.
He keeps his fingers moving while he manages to get some coins he had in his pocket, reaching forward to put them into the coin slot, then pressing the button to start the timer.
When he relaxes back he applies a firmer pressure, and starts to massage your clit in quicker circles; making your mouth drop open with a gasped moan. You can barely hear the beep for the picture anymore, everything around you turning blurry, and all you can hear is your heart beat mixed your heavy breathing.
"That's it baby," he coos, with a gravel to his voice from the tension in it, "God I wish I could fuck you right now. I’ve been dying for it.”
Your skin is burning up, and all you can manage in response is the pants from your open mouth, desperately trying to keep yourself quiet.
You start to grind yourself against him as his fingers work, and feel the hard bulge forming in his pants underneath your ass.
He wasn't kidding when he said he'd be quick, he's already building the pressure in your lower belly, making your stomach muscles tighten, while he moves his fingers in the exact way he knows you love it.
That knot in your lower half tightens, and your legs start to tremble as a louder moan you can't stop comes out of your mouth.
"Fuck—Jisung," you whimper, with your chest starting to heave with rapid uneven breaths.
He only quickens his fingers driving with determination and speed, making sure to keep repeating the same movements that are getting the best reactions from you and when your head falls back as you moan again; his free hand comes up to cover your mouth.
"Shhhh—quiet, remember?" He hushes against your ear, groaning at the feeling of you grinding against him, "I know you wanna cum baby, but there’s no way I’m letting anyone else hear how you sound for me.”
All you can manage is a muffled "mhm" against his hand as your eyes squeeze tighter. That familiar sensation starts to ripple from your centre down your legs and into the rest of your limbs.
The orgasm is speeding towards you, faster than anticipated causing your back to arch up as your hips writhe. Your mind is foggy only able to make out quiet whispers of encouragement coming from Jisung.
As the release ripples through your body and your moans are muted against his hand, Jisung groans again, feeling you shake on top of him. He can’t help but snap his hand away to grasp at your jaw to turn your face and kiss you hard while you ride through your climax.
The kiss is mostly open lips grazing against each other, or trying to connect in messy motions with both of your laboured breathing mixing together. His fingers only pause when you try to pull yourself away from them.
Once your eyes drift open to see Jisung’s, the look in them makes you want to squeeze your legs together again if you could move them currently.
Jisung brings his hand up, and grazes his pointer and middle finger he just used to send your body into a frenzy against your lower lip as a silent request for you to open your mouth. You don’t deny it, taking them into your mouth to taste yourself.
“Fucking hell,” his eyes dart back and forth from your eyes to your mouth. His head rolls back against the wall behind you and he whines in the quiet, "God fucking help me."
Your body is still buzzing, floating down dazed from the high it was on, and you watch Jisung bite down on his lower lip as his brows knit tight together, as his hips shift beneath you.
"Everything okay, Sungie?" It’s the only thing your mushed brain can think of saying as you look down at his strained pants.
"Fuck no," he mumbles, looking like he's trying to compose himself, "But it’s my own fault. I suggested we do this. I’ll deal with myself later.”
"Later?" You ask.
Jisung lifts his head back up, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek as he rubs his palm up and down your thigh, "Yeah, later. When we get home and we watch that movie you promised me.”
He thinks you don’t know that he uses the movie thing as a code to fuck you — but you do know — and that’s why you’ve never protested when he puts on another one of those Harry Potter movies he loves.
"You sure you'll be able to wait that long?"
Jisung’s lips lift up at the corners, "I’ve waited weeks for this, I’m sure I can manage a couple more hours.”
He hugs you against him with his arms around your stomach, and back against his firm chest.
"But then again,” he begins “Now I have the memory of how fucking hot watching you get off in here was. That makes waiting like some kind of sick torture to me."
You let out a weak laugh, feeling your cheeks flush more than they already were, "I still can't believe we just did this."
"I can, and there's pictures to prove it," he smiles, pulling the strip of three black and white photos from the dispenser.
#nct smut#park jisung smut#jisung smut#nct dream smut#nct dream x reader#nct x reader#park jisung x reader#jisung x reader#nct hard hours#kpop smut#nct scenarios#park jisung scenarios#nct imagines
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miscommunication
summary: Toge's been distant, you finally confront him to find out why
word count: 2.5k
warnings: explicit sexual content (minors dni), emotional conflict, Inumaki uses his cursed speech
note: for my beloved @silverrings-n-prettythings who drew some inspirational Inumaki art. Ily bbygirl
It felt like with every day that passed, he’d become more distant. Late nights that were once spent talking about the future, kisses exchanged between soft touches and other intimate gestures that replaced the words that he couldn’t use himself, turned into nights spent apart with you going to bed alone and waking up with cold sheets and a note. Did he love you anymore? You weren’t sure, and that uncertainty hurts more. The anxiety that came with waiting for that shoe to drop - waiting for the note written in his messy handwriting that tells you that he didn’t love you and wanted to separate.
What would you do if it came to that? A life without him didn’t feel like something that you could do, considering the way he’d steadily been a constant in your life over the past year. Nobody made tea the way he did, or knew exactly how to scratch the itch at the base of your scalp when it was bothering you. Squeezes of your hand in his when you were feeling anxious, how it felt to be wrapped around him after a particularly rough mission - the despair you felt when he left, and the relief when he returned.
These things all became constants, things you’d come to expect like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. Your sunrise was Inumaki Toge; morning, afternoon, midday and the evenings - but you’re worried that the sun was beginning to set on your relationship. You didn’t think it was fair for him to just distance himself, not even try to talk to you about what was bothering him that he’d feel the need to do this to you. Even with his limited verbal communication ability, you’d spend hours on the couch texting back and forth or learning sign language to develop something that was more efficient than texting and note writing.
Tonight was worse than any other night, only because you’d had plans. Plans made in advance; plans to stay in and have a nice dinner, play some silly board and card games, and then cuddle up for a movie or two. Plans that he was now two hours late for, plans that had you sitting at a dinner table with two plates of a dinner that was a blend of his and your favorite dishes. Dinner that was now about as cold as you’re Toge felt about you, dinner that had you crying as you stood to pick up the plates that clearly wouldn’t be touched tonight. To punish yourself; you’d probably eat the leftovers for a couple days, reminding yourself that Toge would rather do anything but share a meal with you.
The front door opening has you slamming the fridge shut, and you’re making eye contact with your boyfriend as he takes his shoes off. Your obvious emotional state has him immediately concerned, closing in on you to try and assess the situation until your hands smack him away to put some space between you both.
“You don’t get to pretend to care after missing game night for the third week in a row.” Your statement has his eyes widening, phone coming out of his pocket while his other hand pulls his collar down. “Don’t even bother, Toge, I get it. You don’t love me anymore and you’re tired of pretending, so you don’t have to pretend anymore! And to think I started taking sign language classes just for you to…”
You turn away as his fingers start to rapidly tap against the screen, needing to clean up the table and finish cleaning the kitchen. The whole time, though, you can’t stop talking at him. Telling him that you know he thinks you’re more of a burden because you don’t have any cool talents like his, that you must be overbearing since you like to know his schedule, how awful you most be to be around that he never wants to be home when you are or spend time with you. Those kinds of things that you’re not even sure where it all had been bottled up but you do hear his frantic tapping behind you as he tries to respond only to have to pause, backspace a bunch, and type some more.
You catch him gesturing, frantic “tuna, tuna” leaving him while he tries to show you his screen, but you keep your gaze fixed on the task before you because you fear that if you look at him you’ll start crying. You didn’t want to cry when you were trying to yell at him for putting off breaking up with you, that would make you look more pathetic to him than you’re sure you already did.
“Please stop.”
Two words uttered so softly yet full of desperation have you freezing, though you’re sure even without the cursed speech you’d be frozen at the sound of Toge’s using words that weren’t his usual safe words. You’re afraid to even look at him, but you face that fear as you turn to face him and the phone extended towards you with a screen full of words intended for you to read.
“Toge?”
“Please,” he whispers again, angling the phone towards you in a silent plea for you to take it and let him defend himself. You do; your fingers grazing against his as you take the device into you hand with your thumb tapping the screen out of habit to keep the screen awake.
I love you so much.
I’m so afraid that I’ll let something slip and hurt you by accident so I’ve been trying to stay away while figuring out words that can be safe for us to use together.
Didn’t know that my distance would hurt you
I’m so sorry
“Toge,” you whisper, nearly dropping his phone in your rush to pull him into your arms. Tears burn at your eyes while you feel his dampen the skin of your neck, his arms tight around your waist to keep you pressed flush against him - as if you could be apart from him after this. “Don’t you ever try to hide from me again.”
“Salmon,” is mumbled into your neck, and you give your own nod before you pull back to kiss his cheek. A kiss to your cheek becomes a kiss on your lips, Toge’s mouth carefully coaxing yours open to allow him the opportunity to deepen the kiss. You feel small shockwaves along your tongue as it brushes against his, the sensation caused by his cursed markings sorely missed by you in the period of distance he’d forced between you now a source of comfort and a reminder that he was with you again and just as desperate for your touch as you were for his with the way his mouth worked against yours. Your back hits something sturdy, you think it’s probably the fridge but don’t have time to think too much about it because Toge is bringing your leg up to rest on his hip to press the growing tent in his pants to your core in search of friction that would bring pleasure to you both.
“T-Tore,” you breathe when he pulls back, watching as his eyes search the space beside your head for something while keeping himself pressed against you. When he finds it, he’s reaching for it, and you recognize that it’s one of the magnet strips with pre printed statements on it that he’d been searching for. This one had been originally something unimportant to your life with Toge, so you’d used a label maker to make it something that would have real purpose in your home.
Would you like to fuck? Stares at you in bold black font, the smiley face after bringing a smile to your own face as you take the magnet from him to slap on the fridge above your head before you’re kissing him again. It’s not a kiss that lasts long before he’s pulling away, slowly lowering himself to his knees before you and pulling at your pants and underwear as he goes.
He only bothers to free one of your legs from its confinement, bringing it to rest over his shoulder so he could be close to your core, his eyes closing as he takes a deep inhale of your scent. It was clear that he’d missed you just as much as you’d been missing him, the pure relief that you see in his relaxing features bringing a new wave of calm through your body. He was here, he was happy, any doubt that may have lingered regarding whether or not he wanted to be with you is calmed in this moment - only to be replaced with the sparks that come with the feeling of his tongue against your clit. With the way his cursed markings seemed to vibrate against your skin, it’s like you feel him in your skin in all the best ways while his fingers carefully probe your wet slit.
“Toge,” you whine, your hand in his hair while your other hand grips the handle of the refrigerator door. “Please, no marathons.”
That earns you a displeased grunt against your clit, but he had to understand that his forced distance was the reason why you needed him to go easy on you. But you continue to stare at him, eyes locked on his own as you push his hair back away from his forehead until he gives a more affirmative grunt with a nod that would serve as his agreement that he would not intentionally seek to overstimulate you like he typically enjoyed doing.
Two of his slender fingers ease into your cunt, the wet sound so loud in your ears but drowned out by the loud groan Toge let out when he got a taste of how wet you were already. His tongue moves eagerly around your clit, the cursed appendage rolling around the sensitive bud in tight circles while his lips maintain a tight suction that keeps you clenching around his fingers as they fuck you. You’re not sure what is louder; your moans of pleasure, Toge’s moans and groans of delight, or the sinful squelching of your wet pussy being attacked from the inside and outside by your attentive lover’s hand and mouth. His eyes open, the look he gives you full of pure adoration as he opens his mouth to press the pulsing flat of his tongue against your clit as his fingers continue their fast strokes inside your cunt.
“Cum for me,” is mumbled against your clit, the command forcing your eyes closed as your body tightens up around him while he does his best to keep you upright and prevent injury. Your pleasured cry is music to his ears as his tongue laps at your throbbing clit to try and keep you on the edge of overstimulation. You said no marathon, you didn’t say he couldn’t use his cursed speech and that loophole was an unfair advantage you’d truly scold him for later.
“You’re cheating,” you scold; voice nothing more than a whisper as you push his head away from your core, pouting down at him as he grins, his free hand massaging your thigh that rest on his shoulder as he brings his fingers to his mouth. Your leg is carefully removed from his shoulder, and he’s carefully pulling you down to the floor to sit with him. There’s a delightful awkwardness in trying to get each other undressed while sitting on the kitchen floor, and it all reaches its intended outcome when Toge is carefully lying you back against the cold tile of the kitchen floor. Your feeble attempt at an offer to reciprocate the oral pleasure you’d received is met with a shake of his head as he settles between your spread legs, his fingers trailing along your slit before you feel the blunt tip of his cock trying to make its entrance.
Your hands settle on his chest as he kisses you, his length working its way into your neglected pussy. You feel his groan rattle his chest, the sound reverberating through your mouth with the additional hum of his cursed energy overwhelming your senses. He’s all that matters to you at this moment, the slow grind of his hips into yours to keep close as he savors this reunion. His pace is slow, hard strokes pressing deep into your core and sending waves of pleasure along your spine as your hands move to clasp at the back of his neck.
“I missed you,” you whisper, a statement that has him frowning, an apology in his eyes that has you regretting your honesty only momentarily before he’s smiling again as he shakes his head. Everything was going to be okay, you know that and trust in that. He sits up slightly, his hands taking your thighs in his hands and pushing them back towards your chest to allow for closer contact. He’s checking only momentarily to make sure you’re okay, the nod on your end allowing him to continue with his forceful thrusts.
“T-Toge,” you gasp, the deeper angle forcing the wind out of you as he rests his forehead against yours. The only sound that follows is the sound of skin on skin with his hard thrusts, the primary soundtrack to your lovemaking as his mouth leaves yours in face of kissing along your face down to your neck to that spot that made you squirm as you feel yourself approaching the cusp of your orgasm. He knows you’re close, the pace of his strokes slowing down to try and force you to hold out for him. He wouldn’t dare tell you to wait, and you’re relieved when he whispers in your ear for you to cum for him. The cry that leaves you has him smiling against your cheek, his own groans flooding your ears as he finds his own release inside your pussy.
He finally pulls out, moving to lay on his side beside you and gently stroking your cheek as he smiles at you before poking your nose and getting a giggle out of you that has him chuckling. In return, you reach out to poke his nose, which results in a poke competition as you’re both laughing until your arm gets tired. Your eyes close, relief washing over your system at the fact that you still had Toge, he still loved you and wanted to be with you, but his need to protect you from himself had him doing something stupid and not communicating his fears. That would need to be discussed when you weren’t naked on the kitchen floor.
There’s a gentle nudge to your side, and your eyes open to see Toge sitting up and looking down at you with a fond smile while nudging you with his knee. There’s a head nod towards the hallway that led to your bedroom, you know he’s trying to get you either to the bedroom to rest on a more comfortable surface than the kitchen tile.
“Get into bed.”
“You’re a menace!” And you’re standing, Toge taking your hand in his own so he could walk with you to the bedroom.
#toge inumaki x you#inumaki x you#inumaki toge x you#toge inumaki x reader#inumaki x reader#jjk fanfic#inumaki toge smut#toge inumaki smut#jjk smut#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader
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This was a planned thing I had around the time I had this little rant (appreciate everyone who's bothered reading that thank you!)
Seeing as we have three canonically Asexual characters, I thought each of them having a different romantic orientation (and varying asexuality on the scale) would be fun and neat to show the variations to the orientations! But I was really stumped on Mammon since I was pretty set on Alastor and Octavia, but Mammon not being any form of aromantic didn't feel right, not terribly ooc, just definitely felt a bit more like "he's the leftovers" sort of thing when divvying up the romantic orientations. But lo and behold, the new episode of Helluva came out and helped solved that little quandrie. So here are my thoughts below on each!
Alastor (Loveless Aromantic) If you've seen my rant, you probably have a good idea why I labeled him as a "loveless aromantic" (meaning in this sense I'm talking about, he just wouldn't have any form of romantic affections or go into something like a QPR or the like). And I do genuinely think he would be! But I know there's A LOT of bias for Alastor NOT being aromantic (or at least open to some sort of relationship), and I will admit I might've been a bit biased here too! I've just seen a lot of love for only specific parts of the aro spectrum that "allows" Alastor to get with someone, and I wanted to give some love to the aro spectrum that gets little to no appreciation (plus I do just genuinely think he'd be this). If you don't agree, all is fair ദ്ദി(• ˕ •マ.ᐟ The point is, I realize I'm probably in the minority here. Plus, it's all a guessing game more or less until something is officially stated, which probably will never happen for any of these three.
Anyway, like I said, I just don't see Alastor really getting as close to anyone even as a QPR. At the VERY LEAST, not in a QPR that has a lot of romantic parts to it (kissing on the lips, cuddling, etc.). My man wouldn't have any interest in marriage or anything romantic, he's very happy on his own and probably gossips about OTHER people's love lives. Then again, he seemed pretty close to cracking when he heard Charlie ranting about her own love life... With that said, I do think he DOES like the company of others, he's VERY social after all. But actually, getting intimate with someone? Mmm, that doesn't feel right for him to me. A kiss on the cheek or PERHAPS a cuddle here and there at most, but nothing like bathing with someone or kissing with tongue. He's also a man of the roaring twenties, so you KNOW how he thinks about intimacies that might have no romantic/sexual connotations by themselves (like bathing with someone) are romantic on their own just because being that close to someone was seen that way in his time. Plus again, I just don't think he'd be interested in that stuff as is (potentially he could be both touch-starved and touch-aversed. And oh boy, wouldn't that be a conundrum!) On one hand, I like and can see Alastor being sex-repulsed, on the other I can also see him just feeling nothing towards it. Considering Angel's "advances" in both the first episode and the pilot, he does have a bit of a strong reaction towards sex, but nothing crazy either. I can see him being lukewarm to the subject (so he could read a book or read a script out loud with sex in it), but he could be repulsed when it actually INVOLVES HIM. I can definitely see him somewhat annoyed with the subject for how everywhere it is though.
Octavia (QPR Aromantic) It's a little hard to pinpoint, but I can personally see Octavia getting into a close QPR sooner than Alastor, but maaayybe only be a hair. Octavia could possibly get into a platonic relationship with someone that would have remnants of seeming romantic. I do think she's probably the most sex-repulsed of the three, if in part because of her father's inclinations that he doesn't seem to hide even when she's around. Honestly, I feel like we still haven't seen enough of her to get a good grasp on this aspect of her character in if she would be interested in getting as close as to a QPR with someone. But I'd certainly like to think so, because damn does our girl need it. Her falling into some sort of relationship would probably be hard seeing as how her parents' relationship was so awful. So she could be hesitant about doing something like that.
Mammon He was the big toughy! And while his advances on Leviathan might have been meant in a more platonic way or just for show to go against Ozzy's and Bee's romantic relations, I'm going with what's there! So Mammon seems like he could be straight or bi/pan. But I don't have a hard grasp on which so I'm tossing that in the air. I don't think he'd be sex-repulsed just because of how "sex makes money". Like, there's no question that sex appeal is a big part of business even if something isn't even that sexual. So while I think he's not largely interested in doing anything sexual, I can see him being okay or even lukewarm to the subject, maybe just not getting the appeal entirely. Maaaayybe he's sex-favorable? Of the three I would imagine he would be the most likely to be sex-favorable, but I dunno.
I like the idea of Octavia being the only one aware as to what her orientations are. Alastor is... well he's Alastor, and Mammon doesn't seem like he'd be too interested in the details of things. Just that "there's straight, gay, and the between area".
#Celtrist#cel rambles#cel doodles#fanart#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#hellaverse#hazbin hotel fanart#hazbin fanart#helluva fanart#helluva boss fanart#hellaverse fanart#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#alastor the radio demon#octavia goetia#helluva boss octavia#helluva octavia#helluva boss mammon#helluva mammon
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it's your turn for choosing
this was born out of a prompt request from my dear, dear, @softlyspector. this is for you, becca!
getting asked out via a smudgy scribble on a coffee cup | valentine's day prompts
joel miller x reader
summary/warnings: joel stops by your coffee shack every day. it's not your fault you're a little in love with him because of it. | modern au, fluff, flirting, jesse and cat and ellie cameos, game!joel in my head. i have not been a barista so sorry to all baristas if this reads wildly off-base. | 5.6k
a/n: it's giving rom-com! happy valentine's day. a bit different from my usual fare but hopefully it makes your heart warm. love u. thank u always to @macfrog and @bageldaddy for your eyes.
___
7:32 am. It’s helpful in this line of work to know exactly when you’re fucked.
The espresso machine has been on the fritz all week and despite how much you want your current method of fixing it to work – banging a fist on the top until it stops wheezing – all signs point to today being a very bad day indeed.
You’ve only been open for two hours.
Here for three, awake for four. God, you’re tired.
Anyway – you’re fucked. And there’s nothing you can do about it.
You call the time of death on the machine and search for something you can write on.
The Zone – a stupid name, but you can’t be bothered to change the sign that came with the place – is a coffee shop that sits between towns.
Your coffee shop.
It's more shack than shop, not really a zone of anything, just an order window and a five-drink menu. It's the kind of place that appears like a mirage for tourists right before they get on the highway at an ungodly hour and serves as a quick stop for everyone else. You open earlier than any other place around to get the truckers and the farmers and close when you stop being able to keep your eyes open.
The faded brown clapboard building is no bigger than an RV. The paint is chipped and the roof is a too-bright shade of green and you serve your drinks and the occasional sweet treat when you can get a good deal off of the baker two towns over through a window. It’s not a fancy chain, it’s not a drive-thru. You’ve got a bathroom and a few rickety cafe tables and chairs and no fucking common sense since you like it.
You even love it, some days.
And the craziest part is that it works. Even on mornings like this one, when your espresso machine breaks during the lull between rushes and your part-time help calls in sick and you’ve spilled coffee all over your apron twice – it works.
You tear off the lip of a cardboard box and write in big block letters: NO ESPRESSO TODAY. Maybe Tess, the baker, knows someone who can fix it. She knows everyone.
“Fuck you, you piece of junk,” you say. You give the machine another smack for good measure.
Someone clears their throat and you whirl around, makeshift sign in hand.
You’ve been doing this long enough that a handsome customer doesn’t phase you, but the man standing at your order window makes your stomach swoop for just a second.
“Morning,” you say, summoning your smile. “Hold on a sec, let me just –”
You lean out the window and wedge the piece of cardboard against the napkin holder on the ledge.
The man’s gaze drops to read. You take the opportunity to look at him.
He’s tall and broad – if you had to guess, you’d say he works on one of the farms around here. He’s tan, dark hair threaded through with grey. His arms are crossed and you wish he wasn’t wearing a jacket so you could see his forearms. His denim shirt is undone at the top and you fixate on the chorded column of his throat, on the teasing glimpse of chest hair underneath.
The guy looks tired.
Bone-tired, the kind of exhaustion you see when you look in the mirror. It comes from hundreds of early mornings and late nights, from hours on your feet and plenty of worry. He’s got lines at the corners of his eyes and a few around his mouth and you find yourself hoping they’re from laughter.
“No espresso,” he reads, slow and unhurried. His drawl fits in with most of the folks around here, but you’re sure you haven’t seen him before. You’d remember.
“Hope that doesn't scare you off,” you say. “Still got everything else.”
“Everything else being…” He glances at the chalkboard that serves as your menu.
DRIP COFFEE. LATTE. CAPPUCCINO. TEA. HOT CHOCOLATE. All written in your blocky hand in white paint.
“Three options.”
Trial and error have taught you that simple works best. You’ll make anything people ask for, so long as you know how and have the supplies, and if they’re nice about it you won’t charge too much extra.
“Can I get you one of those three options?”
You’re not trying to rush him, but the next wave of people is bound to show up any minute.
“Black coffee will do,” he says. His mouth tugs up at the corner into a smirk that makes your face feel hot. “If you have that.”
“Thank you for taking pity on me,” you say, going for teasing and missing the mark by a mile. You just sound tired and genuine. “You just made my morning.”
He looks amused and you turn from him, unable to hide your grin. You pour a steaming cup and snap the lid on.
“Pretty shit morning if this is makin’ it,” he drawls.
You hand him the cup and your fingers brush.
“You have no idea.”
He eyes the sign again and then your stained apron. “I got some notion.” He tugs his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out a $5 bill. “Keep the change,” he says.
You want to refuse, to thank him, but a few more cars pull up and Mr. Black Coffee just raises his cup to you and heads back to his truck.
Well, shit. You hope he comes back. A tipper like that, and hot? You sure wouldn’t mind if he became a regular customer. __
You call Tess that afternoon and she does know a guy, so the espresso machine gets fixed and things go back to normal. Your part-time help returns in the morning and nothing else breaks.
Today is uncharacteristically warm for the season. The inside of The Zone is almost stifling, always at least 15 degrees warmer than outside, and you keep wiping your sweaty hands on your apron as you make espresso after espresso for the lunch crowd.
Cat, a spunky girl who likes to practice her latte art when it’s slow, takes orders at the register. You keep half of your attention on her and half on the four drinks you’re working on.
“Black coffee, please,” someone says to her. Someone whose voice you recognize.
“Can I get a name for that?” Cat asks. It’s busy enough that calling names is easier than calling orders, no matter how small your menu is.
“Joel,” he says. You let the milk steam on its own and pour the black coffee before Cat can do it.
“I’ve got it,” you tell her. “Can you finish up those drinks?”
She shrugs and you swap places. You know you’re sweaty and coffee-stained but you smile at him and hand over his coffee.
“Hot coffee on a day like this?” you tease. He – Joel – is sweaty, too. The collar of his work shirt is dark with sweat and his hair is a mess. He must be here on his lunch break. He takes the cup from you and slurps a long sip as a reply to your question.
You laugh. Joel looks pleased.
“Operatin’ a full menu, I see,” he says, pulling out another $5. “Glad you got it fixed.”
“It’s still a piece of junk,” you shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”
He waves off your offer of change and raises his cup at you, taking a few steps backward towards his truck.
“Thank you,” he says. He eyes the tag on your chest and tacks your name on at the end. It sounds good from his mouth.
“Bye, Joel,” you say. His lips twitch but you barely have time to think about it before you have to take the next few orders.
The line dies down and you step away from the register to help Cat with some cappuccinos – your least favorite drink by far due to all the damn foam they require – and she eyes you.
“Dude,” Cat says. “What the hell was that?”
If it wasn’t already a billion degrees in here you know your face would feel hot.
“What the hell was what?”
She can’t reply for a few seconds while you grind beans for some espresso.
“I didn’t even know you knew how to flirt,” she muses, tapping a frother full of milk a few times. “That was pretty bad flirting if you ask me –”
You turn the grinder on again to drown her out.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you yell. She rolls her eyes at you until you turn off the machine.
You tamp down the grounds and slot them into the machine.
“I mean, not my type at all, for like, so many reasons,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Way too old for me, for one. Man, for another. But I see the appeal, I guess. Seems like he likes you. And was that a five-dollar bill? Black coffee is two bucks, last time I checked –”
“Can we get back to steaming milk, please?” you snap, more embarrassed than mad. “I am not taking flirting advice from a teenager.”
“I’m twenty!” she sputters. “Wait, so you admit that you like him?”
“Milk.”
Cat is right, though, and you know it. You just don’t see any harm in having a crush on some guy who comes to your coffee shop. Running this place means you see hundreds of people every day. You know their names, you ask them about their kids and their pets and their jobs, and you smile at them even on your bad days. It’s just part of the job. The daily interactions keep you afloat, make you feel more solid in your own life. People see you, they recognize you, they know you – even if it’s just because you make them coffee.
Maybe Joel will keep coming back. Maybe he’ll become one of the regulars you know things about.
And if you have a crush on him?
No harm done. He’s nice to look at.
And he tips well.
__
Joel stops by again.
And again.
And again.
He comes in every morning – sometimes at lunch – and orders the same thing. You learn the rumble of his truck by ear alone, the crunch of his boots on the gravel. Sometimes people in line say hi to him and a smile works its way onto your face on instinct when his voice reaches your ear. It’s never slow enough to have a proper conversation but he smiles at you, tells you he likes the flowers, your new apron.
All of it is flirting but maybe not flirting.
Maybe he’s just being polite.
Also, he keeps overpaying.
One day, almost a month since you first saw him, he doesn’t come in the morning. When you don’t see him in line at lunch, either, you’re a little disappointed. The weather is perfect – not too hot, not too cold, the sun shining – and you want to see him in the sunlight.
The day crowd is long gone and you’re only an hour or two from closing when his truck pulls up.
“I was getting worried,” you call as he walks over. Usually, he’s got some kind of dust or paint or something on them – Joel is a contractor, you’ve learned through your brief encounters, not a farmer – but today his clothes are clean and un-ripped.
“I’m honored,” he says.
You have his cup ready by the time he reaches the window.
“I’m just surprised you can get through the day without a cup of coffee.”
He snorts and hands you his cash.
“I can’t,” he says. “Had shitty home brew this morning.”
He takes a sip of your coffee and sighs. Your heart picks up and you don’t hide your grin.
“What’s with the schedule change?” you ask.
He smirks. “Miss me?”
You scoff and cross your arms. Heat rises in your chest and you feel almost giddy.
“Just curious,” you say. “Don’t let it go to your head, but you’re my favorite customer.”
Joel laughs and scratches the back of his neck.
“Reckon that’s the tip.”
“Actually, ordering a cup of black coffee is the way to any barista’s heart.”
Joel’s eyebrows climb up his forehead.
“Ah,” he says. He takes another sip, his eyes dancing with mirth. “‘Course.”
“Nah,” you say with a teasing smile. “I’d never be so shallow.”
There’s no line behind him but you expect him to go back to his truck, anyway. But here he is. Talking to you.
You grab a rag and wipe down the counter to keep your hands busy.
“I’m, uh. Meetin’ one of my kids here,” Joel says. The sudden shyness that accompanies his admission is a surprise.
Your eyes dart to his hand but you see no ring, nor the pale shadow of one.
“Both of ‘em moved to the city recently. Ellie – she’s comin’ up for the night.”
“I’ll bet you miss them,” you offer. You’re not sure why he’d want to bring his daughter to your coffee shack, but you’re not complaining.
Joel smiles at you. It’s a sad smile but still a good one. The affection in his eyes is raw.
“Sure do,” he says. He tucks one hand in his pocket and takes another sip of his coffee. “But it’s good for them. Sarah – she’s a little older – is in school and Ellie is workin’ on her music and whatever else she’s into these days.” The pride in his voice is clear.
“Well, I’m honored you want to bring her here.” You gesture to your slightly sad sitting area and the empty lot behind him.
Joel looks ready to argue with you when a faded, older version of his truck pulls up. Music leaks from the open windows and the driver bops her head to the beat a few times before shutting it off and hoping out, thumbs flying on the screen of her phone.
“That’ll be her,” he says drily. “Hey, kiddo.”
Ellie looks up from her hands, tucks her phone in her back pocket, and grins at Joel.
She doesn’t look a thing like him, but the connection is obvious. She moves like him, her shoulders set like she’s ready for a challenge at any moment. Joel sets his coffee down at the window and meets her halfway for a hug.
You look away and busy yourself with restocking whatever you can get your hands on.
“Dude, you come here every day?” Ellie asks. “Joel, this is so far from –”
Joel talks over her.
“Drive go okay? Sarah said they’re doin’ shit on the 35 –”
Ellie huffs.
“Yeah, yeah, some traffic getting out of the city ‘cause of the fucking lane closure, but otherwise fine.”
“Good.”
You turn to face them, a genuine smile firmly in place.
“Hi,” you say. Joel picks up his coffee again, which Ellie eyes with a scowl. You introduce yourself to her. “You’re Ellie, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Ellie frowns. Behind her, Joel’s mouth twitches but he says nothing. It’s a lie, obviously, but something tells you he doesn’t mind and she believes it.
“Really?” She throws him a glare and then rolls her eyes. “You gotta stop telling strangers about me, man.”
“Someone’s gotta warn ‘em,” he says.
She laughs. “Hey, fuck you!”
“Only good stuff,” you say. You like her. “Joel says you’re working on your music?”
Ellie’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I’ve got an audition next week.” She turns to Joel. “I brought my guitar ‘cause I have a fuck ton of songs to play for you.”
He puts a hand on her shoulder and she settles a little.
“I bet they’re real good.”
Ellie flushes and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. You have to hear them first.”
You feel a little off-balance again, like you’re on the fringes of something you shouldn’t be seeing. The love on Joel’s face is clear as day.
“Do you want some coffee?” you ask her.
Joel winces. Ellie gags.
“No offense,” she starts, eyes darting between you and Joel. “I know Joel is fifty percent coffee on a good day, but it’s not my thing.” She looks at the menu and narrows her eyes. “I had a mocha the other day and didn’t hate it. Do you make those?”
“Look at that,” Joel says. “You’re convertin’.”
“Am not,” Ellie says. “It’s got chocolate in it, dude. No shit, I like it.”
“Yeah, give me a few minutes,” you laugh. “I’ll put lots of chocolate in it.”
They sit at one of your tables and you hear their laughter in the background as you make her drink.
It’s strange to see Joel like this – to build up on the man you’ve imagined him to be in your mind. Father never occurred to you. It makes sense, though, like a missing piece of him slotted into place. But it also makes the crush feel a little more real. Now that he’s more than your favorite regular customer. Now that you know a piece of him, of who he really is.
It makes you want to know more.
You finish her drink and call Ellie’s name. They both stand and Joel digs in his wallet again.
“Don’t you dare pay me, Joel,” you say. You direct your next words at Ellie. “Really. I’m just honored you stopped by.”
She eyes Joel and he eyes her right back with the same look. She must have learned it from him.
“Yeah,” she says. “Me too.” She grins at you with all of her teeth. “Joel loves this place. Talks about it all the time.”
She takes a sip of her mocha and her eyes go wide.
“Wait, this is fucking good. Man, I see why you drive –”
Joel clears his throat.
“We’re off,” he says. “Thank you, as always.” He sounds softer than usual as if being nice to his daughter is the best thing you could do for him.
You suppose it is.
“You’re welcome, as always.”
Ellie knocks her shoulder with Joel’s as they head back to their trucks. She must be whispering something to him because he swats her away with a groan and she cackles.
They both wave at you as they drive away.
__
Joel keeps coming in the mornings, and your conversations return to their fleeting cadence. Even so, it’s hard to deny that your crush on him has kicked into high gear.
You try not to let your gaze linger on his lips, on his throat. On his hands when he takes the cup from you, how your skin brushes and it makes you warm all over. You think about how he laughed, how relaxed he was around Ellie. You want to know what he’s like outside of your small daily interaction. You want to know what he eats for dinner, how he spends his weekends, what he listens to on the radio.
You want him.
Business is busy, which helps. A kid from a few towns over – Jesse, he’s called – signs on to work part-time, mostly for the second half of the day. He’s been a barista before so the training is minimal, but it still changes the flow of things. He’s a charming guy and the regulars take to him easy enough.
It’s you who is distracted.
One morning, Joel comes in as expected. Jesse is working, too, trying to clock some extra hours this week.
Joel is on the phone in line, his attention somewhere else. He’s frowning, a deep crease between his brows as he waits in line. All it would take to smooth it away is the press of your thumb.
You try not to stare and probably fail, but manage to take and make the orders ahead of him without making any mistakes, though your whole body feels alight.
He hangs up right as he gets to the window and sighs, giving you a tired smile.
“Howdy,” he says. You set his coffee down in front of him and he pulls out a ten-dollar bill instead of a five.
“Joel –” you say, but he interrupts you.
“My brother called and said he needs breakfast,” Joel grumbles. “Y’got any of Tess’s bear claws?”
Right, they work together, you remember. He’s mentioned Tommy in passing.
“I think so, just hold on a sec.”
“Take your time,” Joel says. It sounds like he means it, even though there’s a line behind him and he probably needs to get to work.
You do find a few bear claws in the box Tess gave you early this morning when you stopped by the bakery.
“You’re in luck,” you say, putting it in a paper bag. “Well, Tommy is.”
“Savin’ my ass,” he tells you when you hand it to him. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
The word sends a jolt of lightning through your whole body. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s said it but your world shifts slightly on its axis. Sweetheart.
He turns on his heel before you can give him change for his cash, his phone ringing.
“Jesus, Tommy, I said I’d –”
You let him fade into the distance and smile at your next customer.
“How can I help you?”
A few orders later you end up next to Jesse making some lattes.
“Was that Joel Miller?” Jesse asks. “Before. The guy with the black coffee and bear claw?”
You startle. “Um. It was. How do you –”
“I didn’t know he was a customer here,” Jesse says. “Does he come in a lot?”
You unpack a few more cinnamon buns that Tess gave you this morning. “Yeah, every day.”
“Damn,” he says. “He must really like your coffee.”
“Are you trying to say it’s bad coffee, Jesse?”
He huffs a laugh. “No, boss, ‘course not.” He grinds beans for a few seconds but continues once he’s done, steady hands tamping down the results. “I just know he lives like, a half-hour away. And that there are plenty of coffee shops there, too.”
You narrow your eyes. “How do you know him, Jesse?”
“His daughter, Ellie, is a friend of mine,” he shrugs. “Went over to their house plenty of times in high school.”
“Well. He’s a contractor, right? I bet he has a job out here.”
Jesse clips the espresso into the machine and starts on some milk.
“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” he muses. “I am saying that it takes at least 30 minutes to get here from where he lives.”
It’s silly. You’re half-flattered, half-confused. Yeah, you like Joel, and yeah, you’re pretty sure you’ve been flirting every day for over a month. But you figure it’s convenient for him. Coffee and an ego boost all in one.
But if he’s going out of his way to come to The Zone? Well, maybe it’s not just for the coffee.
“Your coffee is good,” Jesse stresses, seeing the gears in your mind turning. It looks like he’s trying to hide a grin. You need to stop hiring young people who have keen eyes and big mouths.
“I think the ice needs a refill,” you say, snapping back into focus.
“He might be here for something else, too -”
“Go refill the ice.”
He throws up his hands with a smirk. “I’m going!”
__
7:24 am. You’re on your own again and you’re fucked.
The espresso machine is working perfectly and the early rush has ended. The weather is beyond shitty. Rain falls in sheets and the sky is so dark it feels like the sun didn’t bother to rise. It pounds on the roof and blows in the window every time you open it. The awning does nothing to shield customers as they shout their orders over the wind at you. Your fingers are going numb and your front is damp enough to set your teeth chattering.
Joel’s truck pulls up and – well. You’re fucked. And he’s why.
You’re fucked because you can’t stop thinking about him. You can’t stop thinking about what Jesse said. What Joel said. Sweetheart.
A harmless crush turned into something more intense, something heavy in your stomach. You want him earnestly, fully, with every piece of you.
And you still barely know him. But you want to.
Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the fact that you’re damp and cold and frustrated with your own heart and brain. But you see his truck and you decide to do something about this stupid crush.
You write your phone number on a cup with steady hands and set it aside for Joel. You scrawl on it as neatly as you can: Want to get a drink somewhere else sometime?
It’s a bit of a coward’s way out. You should just ask him, say how you feel to his face. He’d probably like that better, anyway. But, well, this just feels safer. He could ignore it, he could throw it out, he could see it and decide to never come back.
Sweetheart.
Somehow you don’t think he’ll do any of those.
The rain lashes against the window so hard you don’t open it until you see the lonely figure approach. The morning rush has been a morning trickle, a few brave souls venturing out for something from you.
Joel, it seems, is one.
You open the window and are greeted with a spray of mist.
“Gimme a sec,” you tell him. It’s so windy he leans in close to hear you. He’s wearing a jacket that’s ill-suited for the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. Your fingers twitch with the need to brush it back.
You quickly fill the cup you’ve set aside and pass it to him with two hands so it doesn’t blow over.
“Brave of you,” you say. He’s in the rain and you’re both getting soaked but you want to talk to him desperately. It’s a buzzing need at the front of your brain. “Thought the weather would get you, too.”
“Told you,” he all but yells over the wind with a flash of white teeth. “Shitty coffee at home.”
“Drive safe, Joel,” you tell him. He nods at you and jogs back to the truck, cup in hand. You won’t be able to see if he reads it from here, but you hope so. All you have to do is wait.
And wait.
And wait.
The rain stops.
You’re still waiting, phone silent.
Sunshine peeks through the clouds with a slightly surreal post-storm glow. A few more folks have made their way to The Zone but today has been slow. The clock ticks slowly towards 3 pm and your phone does not ring.
“Don’t be stupid,” you mutter. “He’s working.”
You step out of the shack and into the slightly humid air, the gravel under your feet shifting wetly. The tables you’d set out this morning are, mercifully, still there, though they’re spattered with rain. You might as well close up now.
You’re bent over the last of the chairs, wiping them down with an old rag. You’re focused, so much so that you don’t pay much attention to the hum of an engine and the crunch of tires behind you.
A door slams but you don’t turn around.
“Sorry,” you call over your shoulder. “We just closed.”
“Shame,” he says.
You whip around and find Joel, hands in his pockets. He’s in a different shirt than this morning and his jeans don’t look soaked. You’re still damp, water stains on your pants and shirt.
“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi, Joel.”
He smirks. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of that window,” he says, before jutting his chin towards the tables. “Can I help?”
You’re very aware of your whole body all at once. He’s looking at you, drinking you in like you’re his morning cup of coffee.
“Uh, sure,” you say. You want to ask why he’s here but the words won’t come. “They go in there, in the little closet on the right.” You point to the open door to the shack.
He dips his chin low just once and then crosses the distance between you in three big strides. He grabs the chair closest to you. The t-shirt he’s wearing shows his arms and you feel what he’s just said – it’s weird to be in the same space like this. You’re outside but he feels so big.
Joel’s arms flex and you swallow, following him with another chair. He stacks his in the right place and holds a hand out for yours.
“What did you write on it?” he asks, casually.
The words don’t totally register. “What?”
He doesn’t answer. His arms are crossed, brow furrowed. Your mouth goes dry.
“On my cup. This mornin’.” He keeps his gaze on yours and for some reason, you can’t look away.
“Oh – you, you didn’t see?”
He shakes his head. “Was rainin’, remember? Got smudged before I got in my truck.”
“Right.”
You tear yourself away and leave him standing there. Maybe you should just lie.
But then you think about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when you make him laugh, and how he asks you how you are and how he brought his daughter here and how he tips and how he drives all this way for your – for you.
Joel waits, his footsteps the only indication he’s followed you.
You turn around.
“I wrote my phone number,” you say. “And I asked you on a date.”
The corner of his mouth pulls up and you think he’s…blushing?
He rubs a hand over his beard and you hope he’s hiding a smile. Your heart is in your throat, beating so loud you worry that he can hear it. All of your bravado sinks into the damp ground at your feet. Maybe you’ve read this totally wrong. Maybe he’s just a nice guy, maybe your coffee is just really good and your employees are fucking with you. He’s here to let you down easy, to tell you he’s not even available, not interested, not –
“Alright,” Joel says. He walks towards you and tugs his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll take that number.”
Oh.
He hands it over and you type it in, heart jackhammering in your chest. But you watch his face, see the quirk of his mouth and his blush and it makes you brave.
“And the date?” you ask, giving it back. Your fingers brush and your heart keeps pounding but your nerves take a sharp turn away from doubt and towards excitement.
“Well, you gonna ask again?”
You both seem to have found your footing with whatever this is. The flirt in him is back full force, and he’s looking at you in that way of his. You want to know all of his expressions. There is so much to learn.
“Are you going to say yes?”
“S’why I came back,” he admits. “Figured you’d be closin’. Hoped you’d be free.”
“So you could read the cup?”
Joel takes the other two chairs and heads for the door again. You trail him. God, his arms are distracting.
“Most of it,” he says. “Couldn’t make out the last few numbers, though.”
“Well, once we’re done here, I’m free. If you wanted to go on a date with me.”
Joel turns and you’re in the small space at the same time, your chests almost pressed together. You must smell like sweat and stale coffee but you watch as Joel inhales, eyes on yours.
“I do,” he says.
It would be so easy to kiss him, a quick, chaste press of your lips to see what he tastes like.
His pupils dilate and you sway into him for a breath before you realize what you’re doing and step back outside.
You take a deep breath of fresh air. “Great.”
He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and you head for the tables.
“Y’know,” he says. “Ellie’s been on my ass about this.”
You laugh, high and bright. “Has she?”
“That girl ain’t capable of missin’ an opportunity to stick her nose in,” he grumbles, but it’s affectionate.
“Well, I think she’s smart,” you goad.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Reckon she is.”
Joel’s brows furrow and he takes a few quick steps into your space, so close the tips of your shoes almost touch.
“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi.”
“Hold still,” he says. He reaches for your face slowly, slow enough that you could pull away but you don’t. He brushes something from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.
“Grounds.” His voice is a little hoarse.
“Thanks,” you breathe.
He smirks but the flush creeping up his neck tells you he’s not wholly unaffected. It makes you feel…it just makes you feel.
Joel Miller likes you.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say.
His eyes widen slightly and he leans in just a little but you slide out of his space with a grin.
“The sooner we finish up the sooner I can buy you a drink.”
Joel laughs, loud and full. “Oh, how generous of you.”
“You’re very lucky,” you say.
“I agree,” he drawls. He taps your chin with one knuckle.
His eyes sparkle and he smiles, looking luminous in the post-storm sunshine. You see a flash of a future – watching him drink coffee in a kitchen instead of through the window of The Zone. Your hands meeting over a shared table, fingers tangling, that smile directed at you in the morning light.
Giddiness rises in your throat and spills out of you in a delighted laugh of your own. Joel just grins.
“So,” he says. “Where’re you takin’ me?”
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
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I've talked about this at length on Twitter, so I'll try to keep it short and sweet:
OBEY ME IS NOT ENDING!
I've seen a lot of people panicking and a lot of people doomposting about the games being shut down, about how Solmare is abandoning the franchise, etc.
THIS IS NOT WHAT'S HAPPENING.
- From Solmare's announcement a couple of days ago.
The main story in Nightbringer is being wrapped up, but that's it. The games are not being shut down. The games are not going anywhere. You can still play the original Obey Me! and Nightbringer as much as you want. The main story will simply be finished at Lesson 60.
The franchise itself is not ending, either. Solmare has made multiple statements about this and has made it very clear that Obey Me! the series itself will continue. And the voice actors have confirmed this as well!
In addition to both games remaining, there are multiple new Obey Me! projects coming next year!
According to Solmare, the next era of Obey Me! will include new content, live in-person events, new merch, collaborations, and more that will be announced in 2025.
Believe me, I completely understand the disappointment that comes with this news. I'm deeply saddened and disheartened to know that the main story will be wrapping up so soon. I had been following Obey Me! since before the first game even came out (ever since the promotional trailer was shown at AX in 2019) and I've been a daily player of both games since Day 1. It's absolutely valid and expected for people to be upset.
However, I do think that we need to stop spreading misinformation. There have been a LOT of posts on both here and Twitter by people claiming that the series is over and that the games are being shut down. THIS IS NOT TRUE. Not only have I seen far too many people repeating these false claims, I've seen far too many people believing them at face value. I have seen too many people saying that now they're going to delete the games from their phone and leave the fandom, and I've seen fic writers and artists say that they're going to start deleting their works "because it's over now so why bother"
PLEASE DON'T. Obey Me is not ending! The games aren't being shut down! The series is still continuing with new content coming next year!
Repeating this misinformation isn't just damaging for the people who believe it, but if you're pushing players away from the fandom/series because they believe it's been shut down, then that's going to harm Obey Me! as well. We will only continue to get more new content and new OM projects if the series is successful, and alienating fans won't help anybody.
There's been a lot of anxiety and doomerism these past couple days. And while I totally understand feeling disappointed, PLEASE do not make false claims or spread misinformation. The games are not going anywhere and you can still play both of them as much as you want. The Obey Me! series is continuing with multiple new projects next year!
#obey me#obey me nightbringer#omswd#Nightbringer#obey me shall we date#om nightbringer#obm#Solmare#NTT Solmare
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idk if youre taking requests but i love how you write stu so if youre taking requests could you do this? where stu and fem reader are friends and reader admits shes a virgin and has never even masturbated either. so stu teacher her how to masturbate which leads to smut/loss of virginity ? thanks 🥺
First Time is The Sweetest
Pairing: Stu Macher x Fem!Reader
Genre: Smut, bits of Fluff
Warnings: +18 content - MDNI, virginity loss, masturbation, soft!Stu, fingering, p in v (w/o protection), it is mentioned that reader kissed a girl once
Word Count: 3,1k
You and Stu were currently at his house watching horror movies while eating your favorite snacks, since that has become your routine. You were both sat on his couch, your head resting on his shoulder while his arm was around you as it rested on the sofa. To others, it might have looked like you were dating, but the reality was that you had a very close friendship with Stu in which you both felt so comfortable to the point of having physical contact with each other without feeling any discomfort or awkwardness.
When the movie ended, you felt him still a bit agitated, realizing that he wanted to do something more with you before you went home, since he wasn't as tired as you were.
"Wanna play a game?" he suggested enthusiastically, noticing that you were too tired to do anything else. You sighed and looked at him, noting his enthusiasm to play whatever game he thought of. You couldn't resist his pleading eyes, so you chuckled and gave up.
"Alright, smartass. Tell me what game came into your mind that got you so excited all of the sudden." you saw a smirk appear on his face, a sign that he was thinking of something that was far from innocent.
"I dare you to play truth or dare with me. I want to know what secrets you've been hiding from me." as you'd predicted, his intentions in playing a game with you were anything but innocent. After all, what did you expect from your best friend? You knew him well enough to know that he would ask you to do something like that with him. And he knew you well enough to know you couldn't say no to him.
"I knew you were gonna say something like that! Jeez Stu, you really don't change, do you?" you grabbed a pillow that was beside you and threw it at him playfully. He caught it easily and placed it on his lap, laughing at your attempt to "hurt" him.
"And you still can't say no to me, right? Come on, it'll be fun! You'll have the chance to ask me anything you want to know about me or make me do anything you want me to do. Sounds like fun, don't you think?" he laughed as you rolled your eyes at him, trying to hide the fact that you suddenly felt very excited and curious about what he said. Now you had the chance to ask the things you'd always wanted to know about him without being awkward or intrusive.
"Okay fine, but you go first!" you weren't sure what to ask him, since you also wanted to know what kind of questions he would feel comfortable asking first.
"Alright, alright. Sooo truth or dare?" his teasing tone and grin worried you a bit, since you hoped he wouldn't ask you any sexual questions. You could surely lie about it, but he would easily catch you if you seemed too nervous or hesitant to answer.
"Truth." you replied feeling a little nervous, as you weren't prepared to accept a dare from an energetic and bold Stu Macher. You saw him roll his eyes and sighed deeply, making sure you knew that your answer had bothered him.
"You're so lame and predictable, Y/N! Were you afraid of my... "creativity" if you chose dare?" you simply raised an eyebrow at him, telling him silently that he was lucky you had agreed to play with him in the first place. "Whatever, I'll make sure to ask you something interesting then." he was silent for a moment, his eyes half-closed, pretending to think of something that wouldn't be too boring nor too "intrusive", from his perspective. "Have you ever make out with a chick?" his question made you laugh, since you knew he had a thing for lesbian porn.
"Stu! Seriously??" you started to feel shy because of his shameless question, not wanting to expose your experience when you kissed a girl for the first time.
"You have to answer!" he shouted in excitement, hoping that, for some reason, you would say yes. You hesitated for a moment, before deciding to tell him the truth.
"Yes, I did. But only once!" you chose honesty over breaking the game's rules. You didn't want to break the fun of the game and besides, you trusted Stu.
"Holy shit! When was that? Did you get turned on by it??" he jumped up a bit from the sofa, excitement and curiosity evident in his body language.
"Wow, calm down cowboy! You can only ask one question!" he immediately pouted and pretended he was upset and disappointed, which made you kick him playfully with your foot. "It's my turn now." then you asked him a question, since he chose "truth" as well. How hypocritical.
You two continued to play the game, the questions and dares getting bolder overtime. Until what you feared the most was about to happen once you chose once again "truth".
"What was your best sexual experience? Don't forget the details! I want to know all about it!" you noticed how is attention was full on you now, before you swallowed hard by the nerves you were feeling.
"I uh... don't wanna talk about it, Stu. It's too private." you laughed nervously, trying to convince him to change his question immediately. But as you expected, he pushed you further to get out of you the real reason behind your sudden shyness. You heard him laugh at your reaction, not realizing you were starting to feel uncomfortable.
"Please don't tell me you never had a good fuck! It would be even funnier if you told me you're a virgin." he continued to laugh as you were feeling extremely sad and overwhelmed by his unintentional mocking words. Once he saw you didn't have your pretty smile on your face anymore and were looking rather disappointed, his expression and attitude immediately changed. "Holy shit... you're actually a virgin." his voice was quieter than usual, yet you heard him perfectly well.
"Now that you know the truth, you can make fun of me as much as you want. I'm gonna go now." you then stood up from the couch ready to leave his house from embarrassment. You felt Stu mimicking your movements before he gently grabbed your forearm, not letting you ran away from him.
"Wait Y/N, I'm sorry ok? I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I had no idea you were actually a... virgin." you looked down, still feeling ashamed since you knew Stu had plenty of experience.
He always bragged about his sexual skills and hookups to his friends, and you listened to them with fake excitement. Of course you were happy for your best friend, but... sometimes, deep down, you wanted him all just to yourself. He already admitted he was attracted to you, even though he was throwing up tequilla from his mouth and nostrils a few minutes later at a random party.
Right now he was looking at you with a genuine worried expression, seeming truly regretted about how he made you feel. After what felt like an eternity, you finally gained the courage to look into his big blue eyes that made you weak to your knees everytime you stared at them. As you stood there waiting for his next move, you felt him trying to find the right words to approach you the right way.
"You know... If you don't mind it, I could help you with that." he suggested with a serious face and tone, something you never thought it was possible for Stu to do. You just stared at him incredulously, not believing he just said such thing as you searched for a lie on his face, only to find none.
"Stu, I would never make you feel obligated to have sex with me, ok? It's fine, someday someone will came into my life and... you know, show me what an orgasm feels like." you words felt like a sharp knife on Stu's heart, as he couldn't believe you actually thought he would have sex with you out of pity, let alone the fact that the thought of you losing your virginity to some random guy messed with his head in a way he wasn't expecting.
"Wait, wait, wait. You're telling me that you don't even touch yourself??" if you thought Stu was shocked before, nothing compared to his reaction at this moment. "Goddammit Y/N, come here." unexpectedly, you felt Stu grabbing your face and lean down to kiss you. You suddenly felt the blood in your veins warm you up, as you couldn't resist to kiss him back. Your first kiss was sloppy, yet in your perspective it only made it even hotter. Stu led you to sofa, making you sit on his lap with your back against his chest. You felt his half-hard dick on your butt, but you tried to ignore it for now as he leaned into your ear and pulled you closer to his chest.
"Can you let me help you masturbate? I promise I won't make fun of you and it'll stay between us. I just wanna teach you how to make yourself feel good, ok?" he whispered in a sweet tone, like he was afraid to hurt you again, and you just nooded in return with your eyes closed, savoring his soft touches. You knew he wanted to make up for his previous actions that hurted you, even if it wasn't unintentionally. He pressed soft kisses along your cheek while his left hand caressed delicately your thigh and his other hand pressed you against him. He was trying to relax you first so you could fully enjoy tgis new moment and experience with him, and it worked perfectly well. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes, I trust you with my body, Stu..." you didn't mean to sound desperate, but the way you said his name so seductively and the way your body was reacting to his small touches were enough to make Stu cum in his pants.
You were wearing a skirt on that day, which made everything so much easier for Stu and yourself. You watched his movements carefully, as his right hand lowered your body until it reached your coated, white panties. His middle finger caressed your clit beneath your underwear, sending a shiver down your spine from pure pleasure. That single touch made you arch your back against him as you moaned his Stu's name so sweetly.
"Fuck, you're so sensitive, baby... You're so wet already. Is this all for me?" you bite your lips as you nodded quickly, not trusting yourself to speak coherently words. "You need to use your words, sweetie. Otherwise I won't know if you're enjoying what I'm doing to you." as soon as he said that, he stopped his administrations on your virgin pussy and pulled his fingers back, while smirking against your cheek. The bastard, not even in such an intimate moment he could stop teasing you. For a moment, you forget that it's Stu who you were dealing with.
"Please Stu don't stop, it feels so good, please..." you begged, not caring how needy you sounded. At this point, all of your shyness drifted away and all you could think of was Stu's fingers inside you. After a couple of minutes, Stu pushed your panties to the side with his left hand, as his right hand masturbate your now bare pussy. That made you moaned loudly before you grabbed tightly Stu's legs for some support.
"You're loving this, aren't you baby? You're doing so good for me... Now, try with your own fingers. I'll guide you." you felt a bit sad when he took his fingers away from your aching clit, only to grab yours instead to replaced them. It surely didn't feel as good as him doing it, but with his help, as his much bigger hand grabbed yours to guide your movements, it still felt pleasurable.
When he thought you were prepared enough to masturbate by yourself, he let you do it yourself, watching closely as a big smile was shown to you. He felt proud of his girl and how such a good teacher he was to you.
"You're such a good girl, learning so fast how to touch yourself. It wasn't that hard, right? Now, I'm gonna do something else... but it's gonna hurt a little. Just tell me to stop if it becames too much to handle, alright?" he waited for your answer, looking serious once again. You answered a pretty convincing "yes", before you felt him adding a long finger inside your wet cunt.
"Auch!" you shouted once he had half oh his middle finger inside you. He immediately stopped pushing his finger further inside you, afraid that he had hurt you too much.
"Shit I'm sorry, are you ok?? My fingers are longer than average, especially for virgin girls." he chuckled as he tried to add some humor to it, yet you just looked at him with a neutral expression. " Alright, I was joking! Maybe if I kiss you while I finger you it will relax you a bit?" you smiled at that, letting him kiss you slowly as he fingered carefully while you played with your clit just like he teach you. The pain was becoming more bearable by each second, as he finally put his entire finger inside you.
"Fuck, it feels so good..." you gasped between your shared kisses, before you felt him smile against your lips.
"Just wait until I do this." he warned you, as he added a second finger inside you before he curled them, making you moan so loud that you were sure his neighborhood heard you. He fastened his pace once he was sure that all you were feeling was pleasure instead of pain. Your grip on him was getting tighter, as you couldn't hold it anymore.
"Screw my fingers, do it yourself, Stu! Please, I'm begging you!" a single drop of sweat started to ran down your forehead, since the way Stu was making you feel like there was fire on your skin. Stu didn't even answer, as he immediately obeyed you and started finger you harder as he circled your clit with his other hand. It didn't take too long before he made you cum on his fingers, as you screamed dramatically from your first orgasm. While you tried to compose yourself, you saw Stu fingers right in front of you, drenched in your cum. You were starting to feel embarrassed, before he took his wet fingers into his mouth, tasting them like sweet candy. Your cheeks turned redder by the heavenly sight, before he put his fingers in your mouth as well.
"Be a good girl and suck them off for me, baby." Stu demanded and you happily obligated, sucking his fingers covered in your cum and his saliva the best you could.
"Stu please... I want more. I need more of you!" your pleas made his cock throb, and you thought about how painfully erect he must be feeling inside his pants.
"Are you sure about it, Y/N? I want you to make the right decision and not act out of horny impulsiveness." you were actually surprised how Stu could be so mature and considerate towards you in that moment.
"I'm more than sure, Stu. There's no one I would rather lose my virginity to than you. I need and want you so bad. And it's not just from now..." somehow, you gained the courage to admit your feelings to your best friend, which apparently he didn't know about, leaving him speechless. Before you could regret your decision, you felt Stu's lips against yours once again, but this time there was real passion and love mixed in.
You both started undressing each other, and when you were completely naked and had finished admiring each other's bodies, your eyes widened in fear once you saw his size. You never doubt Stu to be a small guy, since everything about him was long and tall... and you had already heard some girls bragging about Stu having a big dick, but now that you had seen it with your own eyes...
"Don't worry, alright? I'll make it fit, and I'll be extremely careful with you. You already know baby, tell me when to stop." he then sat on the sofa and helped you position yourself on top of him, so you could control all the movements. Once his tip was inside you, you closed your eyes in pain. That didn't go unnoticed by Stu, so he grabbed your hips and pulled you to him so he could play with your titties. That made you feel more pleasure, which helped you relax your pussy walls and accept his dick inside you slowly, inch by inch. Once it was all in, Stu stopped sucking and pinching your nipples. "Oh fuck, you're so tight for me. I told you it would fit, babygirl. Can I move now? Please..."
Now it was his turn to beg for your permission, since he wanted to fuck you like a madman, but had to contain himself from his dark thoughts. Maybe another time, when your pussy has already learned how to adjust to his large size. The moment you gave him permission to move and take the lead, he started to fuck you faster from underneath, before picking you up and making you lie down on the couch so he could be on top and dominate you. Stu started to fuck you harder than you were prepared for, his body already being possessed by desire, before he interwined your hands so you could feel his love and care for you. This intimate gesture made your pain soon turn into pleasure only, as you both started to moan into each other's ears until you came for the second time. It was then that you remembered that he wasn't wearing a condom.
"Fuck Stu, you can't cum inside me!" you exclaimed between moans of ecstasy, hoping he hadn't already.
"Shit, I forgot..." he cursed, quickly pulling away and finishing on your boobs and face. Thankfully, your warning came just in time, leaving you both relieved. "This was definitely the best fuck I've ever had... You're so hot Y/N, you have no idea. I thought I was gonna cum in my pants if you didn't let me fuck you." he chuckled while trying to catch his breath, his hair messy and covered in sweat. You chuckled softly, feeling your heart warm at his praise. After a moment, as you both tried to compose yourselves, he reached out his hand for you with a satisfied grin on his charming face.
"That must have been intense for you, babe. Wanna shower together?"
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