#though when i think about it all that comes to mind is the life of a humble lumberjack living in a small cabin in the woods near a village
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honey-tongued-devil · 2 days ago
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[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time
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I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!
socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist
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Jayce:
-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”
Viktor:
-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”
Ekko:
-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry
Vander:
-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.
-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married
Silco (old man):
-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”
Silco (young):
-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy
Steb:
-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready
Jinx:
-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman
Vi:
-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”
-"My... wife?"
-"Again"
Caitlyn:
-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled
Mel:
-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue
Sevika:
-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple
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logansbaby · 1 day ago
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DIET PEPSI | Logan Howlett
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❥ summary: stuck in a place of unspoken desire and longing, the limousine drives only further ignite the spark between logan howlett and you. months of built up lust and emotions bubble over when you take control.
word count: 8.1k (im unable to write short smut scenes)
pairings: old man logan howlett x fem!reader
content warnings: 18+ content (MDNI), masturbation, messy kissing, spitting (im so sorry but it’s my weakness), oral (fem!receiving), begging, humping, pussy pronouns (it’s sooooooo) unprotected sex, gagging? it’s just once, car sex, feelings, logan being self destructive, pet names (baby, honey, princess ITS CANON SOOOO) let me know if i missed anything!
❥ a/n: soooooooo…. this took forever im SO sorry! life is absolutely insane and chronic illnesses are not for the weak. anyways think of this as a gift from me to all you sexy people for 2k!!!!!!! thank you so much, i could kiss you all<3 i hope you enjoy, let me know what you think
—˚。⋆⟡♡⟡⋆。˚
‘When we drive in your car, I'm your baby (so sweet)
Losing all my innocence in the back seat
Say you love, say you love, say you love me (love me)
Losing all my innocence in the back seat’
Diet Pepsi - Addison Rae
—˚。⋆⟡♡⟡⋆。˚
TENSION simmers in the air of the limousine as the driver and passenger engage in a silent staring contest through the rearview mirror. The cool air blasting from the air vents does little to dismantle the heat bubbling in the small space.
Though nonchalance is painted on your face, a darker, seductive glint glimmers in your eyes, a challenge settling within them. You tilt your head, tongue slipping out to glisten your lips with saliva.
There's no shame evident in your gaze; your body is thrumming with pure, hot need and you could cry out with how bad you need the man in the driver's seat.
Logan isn't faring much better— fists gripping the steering wheel tight enough that his healing knuckles turn white, a frown etching deep in his features. He’s desperate to hold onto the tiny sliver of control he has left, mind working to come up with anything to keep him away from giving into this, into you.
This thing between you both started the minute you settled in the backseat of his limousine all those months ago and the unspoken desire has only grown since then.
It’s like there’s something tethering you to him— it’s why you keep coming back to him, calling for his car services despite the fact that your car has long since been fixed. You find yourself craving him, unable to think about anything but him in the early hours of the morning. No matter how many times you come thinking about him, the ache and desire for the man only grows. Though, you haven’t even had a taste.
Yet.
You won’t give in first, though. As much as you want to climb over the seat and suck his cock right then and there as he drives, you’ve held back, just barely, for months.
Logan is a man of very few words and he prefers actions to speaking his feelings. He’s shown you he’s softened to you in the way he hums to show you he’s listening to your rambles. He’s shown it in the way he shows up when you both know you don’t need his car anymore. He doesn’t say it, but you know he wants you as much as you want him, and you’ve been waiting for him to finally give in, to make you his.
As soon as you sat down tonight, fresh from the club, you knew something was bound to happen, especially with the way Logan’s been eying you the entire drive.
Which, it’s important to note that your destination leads to nowhere, you just craved to see the man that badly.
You lean back against the seat, eyes speaking a thousand words as they meet his once more. God, he’s so handsome. His pretty hazel eyes, the slope of his nose, the salt and pepper stubble stretching across his cheeks. Oh, how you want to feel the burn against your—
“Stop that.” Logan’s grunt snaps you from your thoughts.
“Stop what?” You go for innocence but really, your tone is saturated in lust and it gives you away entirely.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what, Logan?” You’re challenging him, and though you can’t see it from the backseat, his dress pants get considerably tighter at the defiance in your voice. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Bullshit,” He counters, eyes flickering to yours and you choose then to bite down on your glossy lips. His knuckles flex with the urge to release the claws piercing beneath his skin; is he crazy for being jealous that he’s not the one biting into the plush skin? “You’re staring at me like you want me to fuck you.”
Vermillion warmth spreads from your chest to your cheeks at his bluntness. It’s completely true, but the dirty truth makes you flush, and your panties to dampen at the thought.
“It’s not gonna happen, baby.” His tone is confident, sure and it pisses you off. “It’s not, so knock it off.”
You roll your eyes, turning to stare out the window. You’re not sure when it started raining, but the water droplets hit the glass pane harshly with its momentum. The pitter patter of water should distract you from Logan, but it just sends you further spiraling.
How dare he deny your feelings and then call you baby?
Blah, blah, blah! His reasons for keeping you apart are pathetic. You couldn’t careless for the years he has on you, you’re a grown woman, and fully capable of what you want. You don’t care what kind of a man he was before he met you; your feelings for him defeat any sense of logic your mind can muster.
You remember how it felt the first time you saw him. Wild, untamed butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach the moment Logan’s eyes met yours. You remember how your name sounded on his lips, a rough voice rendering chills across your skin.
That day had been a shitty one, your boss scolding you for tiny mistakes and everything had seemed to go wrong. Even more so when your car broke down and your then boyfriend refused to pick you up, instead sending you a link to a limousine service. You were sure nothing would get better from that point on.
But when you sat down in his car, Logan’s presence made you feel safe, and it wracked your brain as to why a stranger made you feel so comfortable.
Evidently, you kept calling the limo service (if you silently praised your ex for leading you to Logan, no one had to know).
You remember how you began looking forward to seeing him. You remember how talking with him, rambling on about whatever, felt normal. You remember how being in the vicinity of him felt like taking a breath of crisp, cool air after months of no oxygen.
Logan has picked you up from the bar, carried you up to your apartment door when you were too drunk to do it yourself. Logan has veered off course when your stomach audibly rumbled during a drive to work, insisting you needed to eat. He even grabbed you a milkshake when you told him how you dumped your ex.
He’s been there in every way that counts, but not close enough.
Somewhere along the way, you’ve become love sick, reduced to a yearning mess each time you see him, each time only furthering your feelings. All you want is for Logan to accept this spark between you and let you in, let you ease his troubles and care— because you do, so much.
And, you might want Logan’s dick deep inside you, his strong body hovering over yours as he fucks you dirty, hard, and rough.
“Whatever, Logan.” Huffing, your eyes roll to further showcase your opinion. You shift in your seat, crossing your legs and the action causes the tiny, black dress to slip further up your thighs.
And because Logan has a staring problem where you’re concerned, he sees the roll of your eyes, the expanse of thigh that’s showing. Whenever you’re like this, so unashamed of your need for him, it makes him want to let go of any morals. It makes him want to throw your legs over his shoulders and devour you, lick up the slick he knows is there. He’d like to finally shut your mouth up, finally stop those bratty comments as he fills you up.
Instead, he stays quiet and focuses on the empty road ahead. He can do this, resist your hazy eyes and luscious lips long enough until he gets you to your destination. The radio is switched on then, some pop song filtering through the vehicle in an attempt to lessen the thick, sexual strain permeating the air.
Though, that little action seems to unravel any little bit of control either of you have.
His indifference annoys you; here you are, adorned in a black, lacy dress that does nothing to cover your thighs and grips your curves deliciously. And, you even turned down an attractive man at the club in favor of having Logan pick you up; just the thought of him made you immune to another’s charm.
How embarrassing are you? Staying loyal to a man that has decided the course of your relationship without your input. You would’ve walked away if it were any other person, but you’ve seen the way he eyes you each time you get inside his car, seen the way his fingers go white as he grips the steering wheel, seen the way his cock goes hard at the sight of you.
And that’s when you decide you’re sick of this. Sick of Logan denying you both mind altering pleasure, sick of him pushing you away, sick of him deciding what’s best for you when you can make your own decisions.
A noisy clink! resounds as you unbuckle your seatbelt, and move towards the front of the car. You feel a prickling gaze at the side of your face as you fit yourself over the console, hand reaching to turn off the radio knob. You let your fingertips just barely graze Logan’s arm as you do so, and you’d think he’s unfazed had you not been so close to see the shudder rack through him, to hear the gruff inhale that has a shaky lilt.
In the corner of your eye, you see his mouth part, but before he can scold you, you remove yourself and land back against the cushion. If you’re going to do this, you want his entire attention on you, not some shitty song filtering through the radio station.
You adjust yourself, wiggling until you’re comfortable. Parting your thighs, you feel your confidence soar as you note how Logan’s eyes track your movements.
The dress is bunched up around the tops of your thighs and with the way your legs are open, stretched enough that your ankles lean against the opposite sides of the leather, the lacy thong is on display.
One hand trails down to the spot between your legs, where you’re slick and wet with want. You don’t touch yourself right away, instead petting the supple skin of your inner thighs. The other hand moves to caress your breasts as they threaten to spill from the confines of the dress. You sigh, a shiver racketing through you as nimble fingers brush your most sensitive spots with a mere graze.
“What are you—“ Logan starts, but you cut him off because you’re in charge here, not him.
“Shut up, Logan.” You’re trying to sound stern but with the way you’re softly petting your nipples through the fabric, it’s more breathy than authoritative.
“Fuck,” Logan spits out, trying really hard to not crash but it’s proving to be a bit impossible with the way he can see you teasing yourself. What’s worse is the fact that the intoxicating scent of your pussy is assaulting his senses. He feels high on your smell, on the way he watches through the mirror as you pinch your chest. “Fuck.”
“You know…” You start, but it’s interrupted by a sudden inhale as you finally touch your tender clit through the thin material, pads rubbing softly until that familiar, hot feeling fills your stomach. “I wish I stayed at the club a little longer.”
“Is that right?” If your eyes were open, you’d see how unhinged and feral the man looks. The skin of his knuckles split open as his claws peak out.
A whimper rings loud into Logan’s ears and fuck, that angelic noise will haunt him for the rest of his fucking life. His eyes snap back to see you slowly rolling your hips into your hands, fingers playing with your clit lazily.
“Mhmm, I shouldn’t have called you. Not when you constantly ignore me.” You whine, spreading your legs further apart than before, feeling a rush you’ve never felt before blossom across your entire body at the show you’re putting on. “You pretend there’s nothing here, you pretend you don’t want me, and it pisses me off.”
He’s trying so incredibly hard to force the words ‘knock it off and cover yourself up’ out, but he can’t.
He can’t when it’s the furthest thing from what he actually wants. He can faintly see the wet spot on your underwear, and he wants to scream at you to remove the material all together— he’s that desperate to see your puffy, pretty cunt glisten in all its glory.
“I don’t ignore you, baby.” It’s grunted out, the pain of his claws only aiding in his desire as his cock grows uncomfortably stiff in his pants. “But I can’t give you what you want.”
Another roll of your eyes sends a shiver down Logan’s aching back. Oh, if you don’t knock it off, he’s going to make you cry as he fucks you dumb.
Happy thoughts… Logan thinks.
“There was this guy in the club.” By the tiny smirk on your lips, he knows he shouldn’t take the bait. He knows you’re trying to push him, trying to get him to let go and take what you both desire. He knows he shouldn’t fall for it.
Too bad hes never been good at listening.
“What?”
The lethal, cold depth of his voice has your eyes flying open and you have the audacity to fucking moan. You’re usually not this… bold? Perhaps Logan just turns you into a feral, needy thing.
“Yeah, he was cute too!” You hum, bubbles of laughter tumbling from bitten lips at the way Logan stares at you, at how he gives you a warning look. “He offered to by me a drink, said he wanted to dance.”
“He’s a dick.”
“No, he said I’m pretty.”
“You are pretty.” It’s angry, the way he forces it out, not because it’s untrue, but because the idea of another man trying to make a move on you, his girl, sends anger boiling beneath his skin.
“He was nice, I don’t know why I bothered to turn him down.” It’s through a moan, the way the words are murmured because your fingers are now rubbing circles over your sex in a motion that has your hips jolting, legs shaking, and lips shiny with spit as you bite at them.
“He’s an asshole, only wants one thing from you.”
“I don’t care, what if I want only one thing from him too?”
“Careful.” He practically growls, the limousine swerving slightly before he gets control over the wheel again.
He’s not sure when you’ve become so fucking obscene, but he aches to bend you over the hood of the car and teach you a lesson. He’s so overwhelmed with the turn of events, of how so many feelings jump about beneath his ribcage.
He knows he’s been pushing you away, ignoring the connection you have, but fuck? The knowledge you can slip away from him at any moment makes him feel agonized.
“Jealous?” You taunt, the material of your underwear darker with the slick pooling there and you both know Logan can see it.
“No.”
“I gave him my number, you know.” It's spoken so nonchalantly that a snarl threatens to escape deep from Logan’s throat. “He said to call if I need anything…”
“Watch it,” it’s calmly muttered, but Logan’s anything but. He’s torn between actually focusing on the road and watching your fingers roll your clit in the rear view mirror. That, and anger rolls off him in thick, daunting waves because of a man he doesn’t even know.
You’ve got him wrapped around your pretty finger and he’s a fool to think anything else. He’s a fool to think he’s been successful in the suppression of his feelings.
“Maybe I should call him,” You suggest, your hand slipping beneath the sodden mesh and finally touching your clit properly. “He was hot.”
Logan’s so wrapped up in your euphoric face and honeyed voice that he’s struggling to remember why he’s so riled up.
“Stop tryna piss me off. You’re on my last fuckin’ nerve.” He’s stern, but you just smile wide and slip the pads of your fingers down to swipe up the arousal dripping from your hole, your whiny pants making his spine go rigid.
“I’m not doing anything, Logan.”
“Bullshit. Whatever you think you’re doing, it’s not gonna work. This can’t happen.”
He’s trying so hard to convince himself as much as you. His words don’t bother you though, because the smile on your face morphs into a satisfied smirk.
“You don’t want me?” You challenge, and you stare him down as your fingers retreat from your cunt. You lift your hand up to your mouth, never once looking away as you stick them past your lips and suck.
Your body jolts when the car swerves wildly, but instead of fear, blistering lust fills you and burns your cheeks. Logan looks so incredibly distraught with how your lips wrap around your fingers, a soft ‘hmmm’ falling from you at the taste of desire blooming across your tastebuds.
“Shit, honey. Of course I want you. You don’t know how bad I need you.”
“Please.” You cry out, voice high and dripping with want. Your fingers part from your wandering tongue, traveling down the path of your curves to find your pussy again. “Please, please—“
“No.”
“Logan!” You’re so overwhelmed with your blatant need for the man that actual tears pool at your lashes.
“No.”
“And why the fuck not?”
“Don’t give me attitude.” He commands and you must be sick because the stern, finality of his tone has your hole clenching around nothing. “You know why.”
“—oh my god, Logan. Not this again, the ‘I’m not a good guy,’ and ‘I’m too old for you’ is absolute shit! I don’t care, I want you to fuck me.”
You’re so forthright that he can’t be blamed with how his stomach churns with intense hunger.
“You deserve so much more, more than I can give you.”
Logan seems to forget that as much as he’s come to know you, you’ve also picked up on his own habits. So, you know he’s full of shit by the twitch of his hands on the wheel, the tightening of his lips, the way he’s staring at you like a man starved.
“You know what? Fine, that’s fine. I’ll just call Nate and—“
“Who?” The cold note in his words should scare you, but it just sends another wave of slick to seep down your thighs.
“Nate! The guy from the club,” you say, one hand reaching for the phone hidden in your purse, and the other rubbing slow circles on your neglected clit. The mixture of your spit and wetness is noisy as you rub yourself, the sound driving Logan fucking insane.
“I told you, the guy sounds like a dick. The fuck kind of name is that?” Logan’s patience is running out and you both know it, the string tearing with each tug you give. His eyes widen when you wiggle the phone in his eyeline.“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”
“Why? At least he was willing to fuck me.”
And, oh.
You’re not sure what causes you to say that, but the atmosphere turns tense, filling with anticipation, something dark and dangerous enough that chills run across your exposed skin.
It’s silent. Astonishingly silent as Logan tears his gaze from you, his eyes only forward now. You don’t back down; you know you’re driving the man crazy and it feels fucking good.
Without tearing your eyes from him, you hit the call button.
The sound of the phone dialing has Logan snapping. The car tires screech loudly as Logan slams on the breaks, yanking the wheel to pull of to the side of the road.
Your hands fly out to catch yourself from the swift, jerky motion. A sense of accomplishment bubbles inside your chest when Logan shuts the car off, his body frantic and quick before he’s out the driver's door.
You’re jittery with nerves, despite the fact you were just rubbing your clit like a madwoman in front of him. You were tempting him, sure. But now that he’s finally snapped, you’re nervous.
You gasp as chilly air hits you in the face when the back door opens. In an instant, he’s in the back with you, slamming the door shut. His presence is so intimidating and powerful that you shiver, arousal licking at your back as he crowds into your space.
He glares at you, and just as about you’re about to speak, a rough, large hand grips your chin tightly. He squeezes your cheeks, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. His other hand yanks the phone from your fingers and chucks the device in the front seat.
“So fucking stubborn and bratty, always fucking pushing me. Never stop talking, do you?”
“I’ll have you kno—“
Logan slams his mouth onto yours then, effectively shutting you the fuck up.
It’s like fireworks are set off in your stomach, a trickle of mind numbing pleasure tingling every inch of you. You’ve imagined this moment for months, wondered how it’d feel, but nothing your imagination conjured up could ever compare to the real thing.
Logan’s kisses are passionate, eager. He lifts your entire body into his lap in one, quick motion. The causal display of his sheer strength causes your body to melt into him. Your choked gasp is swallowed by his lips, his tongue licking at yours and oh, the wetness of it sends a wave of flutters straight to your cunt.
His mouth is harsh, the scruff of his beard scratching at your chin with a tasteful burn. His rough hand leaves your thigh to snake into your hair, wrapping the strands around his fingers until a messy ponytail forms. Without warning, he tugs firmly to pull you from his mouth.
He watches as your eyes fly open, as a string of saliva connects from his lips to yours. He feels pride thrum within his chest as you try to lean in immediately, chasing the taste of him, his kiss, his tongue.
Logan doesn’t allow you though, yanking at your hair to keep you in place.
“Not speaking now, are you?” Logan grunts out, tugging your head back so he can lick a hot, wet stripe up the expanse of your neck. He sucks at the skin there, hips threatening to thrust up at the moans spilling from your open mouth. “Finally found a way to keep you fuckin’ quiet.”
“Logan—“ you start, mind cloudy with the overwhelming feeling of his wet mouth on your skin, but he just smashes his lips on yours again.
And holy fuck, the way he’s kissing you, like he’s been starved of a meal and you’re the only thing edible, like he can’t get enough of your taste, has your panties growing even wetter. You snake your arms around Logan’s neck tightly, hips swiveling down in his lap so you can rub yourself over his bulge.
Your moan tangles with the surprised groan from Logan when your center grinds down on his cock, the feeling indescribable, utterly intoxicating and above all— right. It feels so fucking right.
His hand releases your hair in favor of grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing, guiding your hips as he licks at the roof of your mouth.
Its almost embarrassing how riled up you are with just kissing and humping, but you can’t be blamed, not really. Not with the way Logan’s dragging your cunt along his hard cock as he sucks your tongue— it’s so fucking good that his pants are wet with your lust, even through your panties and his pants.
When you finally pull back, it’s with his bottom lip tucked between your teeth, enticing a hiss from the man as you bite down. You lose your hands in his messy hair, tugging until his eyes open and fuck— his pupils are huge, dark with need for you.
Cradling his cheeks, you release and lick at his lip, soothing the sting your teeth left. You startle as Logan thrusts up in reaction, the head of him tapping your clit, and despite the barriers between you, it feels fucking amazing.
Logan catches your lips in a messy, slick embrace. There’s no gentleness, only pure sensuality leading his bruising kisses. You get so wrapped up in the pleasure of Logan’s mouth on yours, his cock rutting into your clothed center so delectably, that time is lost.
When you push Logan’s face away, it’s because your lungs burn with the need for oxygen.
Logan’s unfazed, lips moving down your throat and leaving wet kisses across your neck. You’re sucking in oxygen desperately, hands shaky as they stroke up and down Logan’s back. You want to remember every inch of him, that’s how addicting it is to touch his skin.
“Fuck, I can smell you.” He mutters against your collarbone, rough hands roaming all over your body, as if he needs to memorize the feel of you.
“Yeah?”
You’re a fucking mess— hands wrappped tightly around the back of his neck, leaving scratches that stay for longer than they would’ve decades prior, and you’re still rolling your hips in his lap, trying and failing to ease the ache in your cunt. It only further intensifies the achy throbbing with each grind of restless hips.
“Smells so fuckin’ sweet. Gonna let me have a taste, baby?”
“Yes! Please, Logan, please.” You’re far too gone, too drunk on the feel of his lips on your chest to care how pathetic you sound.
You lean back, grabbing Logan’s face to meet yours, sighing softly as your wet lips melt together once more. He groans, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair, tugging hard as he turns your head any way he pleases, using you. It’s then you realize you’d let him do anything to you.
You’re not sure how much time passes as Logan devours your mouth, it could be mere minutes or hours, but you’ve been too tangled up in his to care. What you do know is that you feel as though you’re going to explode if you don’t relieve the pressure in your pussy soon.
You’re whining, pawing at Logan’s chest and rubbing your wetness on the pant of his thigh, trying to get the man to touch you moremoremore.
But Logan’s too occupied with sucking on your tongue and biting your bottom lip meanly. He uses the grip he has on your hair to keep you there, rendered useless as he messily kisses you breatheless.
“Logan, Logan, Logan.” You moan and even though it’s mumbled into his own lips, he hears you all the same. “Need you. Please.”
And then, it’s like Logan’s realizing the current situation— you, a whimpering mess and rubbing your cunt along his lap as your spit soaked lips mesh with his own in a delicious, salacious embrace. You, who he knows he can’t afford to lose, and if he continues touching you, you’ll fade away like everything else good in his life.
He pushes your face back, but makes no move to remove your weight from his body. A frown settles over your blissed out features, dread replacing the butterflies fluttering about inside you.
“Logan?”
“You don’t want this.” He’s refusing to look at you, his hazel eyes blown out with pleasure wondering around the interior of the limousine as if he hasn’t seen it before.
“I do. I want this. I want you.” You cradle his bearded face in your hands, thumbs caressing the prickly grays scattered across his cheeks. “I do.”
“No, baby. You don’t, you deserve so much better—“
His words are lost in the air as you connect your swollen lips with his. You bully your tongue inside, swiping along his, sighing when his hips buck up at your boldness. The action has his cock rutting your covered clit in such an angle that you could probably come just like that.
“Can’t you feel how badly I want you?” You whisper, peppering sweet kisses along his cheeks, nose, eyelids. Staring into his eyes, so muddled with conflict and something sweeter, you kiss him again.
“Shit,” he groans into your mouth, tongues dancing in a pace that has you dizzy, whimpering inside mouth as your lace covered mound ruts at his thigh. “Can’t baby. You deserve someone better, not some old fucking man who’s done more harm than good.”
“I don’t need better, I need you.” You emphasize the point by grabbing his hand and shoving them down your panties.
A symphony of your shared moans ricochets through the small space; you, at the feel of his rough, thick fingers finally touching your slit. Logan, at the feel of your sweet, sweet arousal soaking your cunt slippery.
He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to find any excuse as to why he should push you away when kissing you, touching you feels this fucking good. Even as his brain works, his fingers tease your fluttering hole and collect your wetness and dragging it to your clit.
“See? I need you, please. Logan, please.”
You stare up at him, eyes wide with so many feelings that cause his heart to pump faster and his cock to jerk.
He seals his fate then and there— Logan’s sick and tired of all the bad in his life, and he doesn’t know much, but what he does know is that you make him feel like he’s good, like he’s fated for something other than drowning in whiskey. And he’s sick of denying himself of you.
“Fuck it.” He mutters, eyes on your lips before melting into you, lips meshing together wetly.
Your moan is loud and sweet, hands leaving his face in favor of gripping his shoulders, nails digging into the crisp white of the fabric there.
He pulls back, ignoring the need washing over him at the mewl falling from you at the sudden removal of him.
“Shh, baby.” He soothes, a large hand finding purchase on your chin, his fingers teasing your lips and rubbing the saliva there. “Open up.”
The quickness at which you obey him makes him want to impale you with his cock then, but he just barely restrains. Your lips are parted, tongue peaking out and waiting; the picture you paint will be a reoccurring dream for him, forever.
Logan leans over you before spitting onto your tongue, watching as the saliva glistens in your mouth. You gasp, the act so incredibly dirty and carnal that you shiver in his lap.
“Swallow.” He commands, squeezing your cheeks together, nearly getting lost in the dazed, euphoric look in your eyes. And you do, because of course you do. ”Atta girl.”
A sob nearly escapes you at that you’re so turned on beyond belief that you’ll burst into tears if Logan doesn’t fuck you soon.
Almost like he can read your mind, he moves you around until your back hits the cool, chilly leather of the seat. He settles himself on the floor of the limousine before you, ignoring the aches he feels stinging his lower back. The pain lingering in his bones becomes a background noise when he looks at you— as if just one look from you heals wounds deep within him.
Logan runs his hands along your legs slowly, teasingly as he presses a kiss on your upper thigh.
“Been dreaming of this pussy for so long.” He starts, leaning until your covered mound is warm with his breath. You’re trembling, suspense hot in your stomach as you wait for him to do something. “Everytime you get in the car, I can smell you. And everytime, I want to fucking eat you out.”
“Logan, please.” You cry out, his filthy words making you dizzy with desire.
And seeing you, someone who’s so unabashedly themselves and talkative be reduced to a withering mess, has a grin threatening to grace his face.
“I got you, baby. Gonna take care of you.”
And he does.
Logan presses a soft, barely there kiss to your lace covered slit before licking a slow, warm path from your hole to your aching clit.
“Oh my god!” You cry out, thighs trying and failing to clench closed as Logan’s hands keep them spread open. He groans at your taste, the hint of something so entirely you.
He grabs each thigh and wraps them around his neck before pulling the sodden material aside with his thumb to finally expose your pussy to him.
And at the sight of your cunt glistening with slick, with unsuppressed desire, makes him fucking lose it.
“She’s so wet, fucking dripping everywhere,” groans, and it takes your muddled brain a second before realizing he’s talking about your pussy.
A moan falls from you, deep from your chest and full of need and hunger as Logan’s tongue swirls over your slit, dipping into your dripping hole. He’s messy as he eats you out, completely driven by a primal urge to completely devour you in the most intimate sense. His movements are rash, his appetite stronger than anything else.
Logan leans back a bit, eyes flickering to yours to ensure you’re focused on him before he spits directly onto your pussy.
A gasp sounds, your chest heaving at the warmth of his saliva coating your center, and it’s so dirty, so insanely hot that it only causes more slick seeps from you.
Logan leans back, ignoring your whine as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy wide open, your sex bare to him. Its obscene, the way he stares at the mixture of saliva and slick glistening your slit. It’s a sight, your cunt crying for him and clenching around nothing as your hips try to buck at his mouth.
Logan laps it all up, tongue flat as he greedily licks up and down your sex. And you’re losing it— not only is his tongue fucking you, going as deep as he can, but Logan’s nose is also bumping against your clit with each thrust of his mouth. Warmth swarms in your stomach and your thighs shake with a promise of an orgasm in the distance.
“Feels so good!” You manage, your hips thrusting up into his face.
You were right— the beard feels fucking amazing rubbing mean and unforgiving against the sensitive skin of your thighs, against your slit.
“Tastes so good, the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” Logan moans, replacing his tongue with two fingers. His cock hardens even more with the way your cunt swallows his fingers right away, your warm, wet walls squeezing around them.
That familiar burn swelters in your pelvis, pure heat sizzling through your veins and for a moment, you forget to breathe. It gets worse when Logan suddenly wraps his swollen lips around your puffy clit and sucks.
The pleasure of it all is so sudden that it smothers you entirely— your back arches off the leather, your pussy convulsing as Logan’s fingers and tongue work you to an orgasm quicker than you ever have before.
“Logan, Logan.” You pant, hands tugging the graying tufts of hair, and you’re unsure if you’re trying to push him impossibly closer and away at the same time.
He only releases his suction on your clit when tears prickle your eyes, when you shake on his fingers from the stimulation of it all. He gently places a kiss to your clit, smiling when you jolt. His lips travel along your sweaty thighs, hands stroking your calves as you struggle to breathe.
“That’s it, honey. I got you.”
“Come here,” is all you have the strength to muster, needing his lips on yours instead of your trembling thighs.
Logan obliges, because if you asked him to get you the moon, he’d do his damn hardest to get it.
“Hi,” you whisper once he’s level with you, body slotted between your limp one. Your arms move without your knowledge, wrapping comfortably around his nape.
“Hi, baby.” His voice is deeper, almost as if he’s completely blissed out on the taste of your pussy and come.
It’s then you see how insane he looks— his chin, lips, and the tip of his nose is wet, completely soaked with you. His eyes are wild, hazy with need and his hair is messy from wandering fingers. He looks so incredibly handsome right now, in your arms, covered in you that you can’t be blamed for the moan that escapes.
You tug him close, lips locking in a newly familiar kiss. The taste of you envelopes over your tongue as you lick along his mouth, a satisfied hum vibrating from your lips to his.
What starts as a sweet, lazy kiss turns heated quickly, and though you’ve just come, your sex aches to be filled. It’s a mess of tongues and saliva, teeth clashing as your lips interlock and wrap around one another.
Your hands begin to unbutton his shirt, marveling at the feel of muscle that’s revealed with each pop of a button. You shrug the fabric off and grab at his shoulders, nails digging into the skin and trailing down to the middle of his back.
“Fuck!” Logan groans, biting your bottom lip as you scratch at him.
Instead of responding, you push at his chest until he falls into the seat across yours before throwing yourself in his lap again. You’re crazed, an unsatisfied hunger clinging to every inch of you and threatening to overtake your senses.
“Always so damn bossy.” He’s taunting you, but with the way his dick jolts as you yank your dress off, you know you’ve got him right where you want him.
You gaze at him, guiding his hands from your hips to your chest, urging him to take off your bra.
Logan’s too impatient to actually remove the fabric though, because he simply pulls at the cups until they give way to the pressure and your breasts pool over the band.
“So fuckin’ pretty.” He groans, leaning down and taking a pebbled nipple between his lips. You whine as he sucks, his fingers rubbing and pulling your other nipple. He switches his attention between both for a while and desire pools in your stomach, heat tingles across your skin, and you can’t wait any longer.
With quick hands, you work to undo his buckle before yanking down his boxers and dress pants in one motion, leaving them in a mess at his ankles. Logan releases your chest in favor of watching you nearly drool at his cock.
He’s huge. The tip is flushed, red and swollen, dripping pearly white bubbles from the slit. His shaft is thick with veins leading down to a patch of short, curled hair at the base. Even in the dim light of the limousine, you note how the vein on his lower stomach connects to the ones decorating his cock. Fuck, you suddenly want to feel the heaviness of him on your tongue and you’d ignore your own needs to choke on the entirety of him. You crave his taste, his come, and—
“Next time, baby.” Logan startles you from your filthy thoughts, and you actually whine at his words. “As much as I’d like to fuck your pretty mouth, I need to be inside you.”
And despite the fact that the man has eaten you out and stolen an orgasm already, you flush with warmth.
Logan finds you amusing, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock and yanking you until your hole is kissing his tip. Your hips move forward, and a whole body shiver wracks through you when your clit brushes his shaft.
“C’mon, princess. Show me how bad you want it.” He emphasizes his taunt with a squeeze of your waist, his lips brushing yours. “Not so cocky now, huh?”
With a glare, you push his hand away and wrap yours around his cock, guiding it to your wet, slick hole. Logan merely raises an eyebrow as your other hand grips his shoulder to lift yourself up enough. Without warning, you sink down onto the the tip of him, nails digging into his shoulder at the overwhelming feel bubbling over you.
“Fuck,” Logan growls, head leaning forward onto your shoulder as you squeeze around him purposefully, cunt sucking him down bit by bit as you lower yourself, only stopping when he fills you to the brim.
“Not so cocky now, huh?” You huff, a grin on your flushed face as you repeat his previous words back at him.
Logan doesn’t respond, to focused on not coming immediately— you’re so fucking tight, so wet and warm that he’s struggling.
The stretch is painful, but not unpleasant as you adjust to his size. When the burn fades away and instead comes a delicious thrum, you unleash.
You lift your hips up, enticing a broken moan from Logan as you move up and slam back down in slow, articulated motions.
“Feel so good, baby. So good.”
“Yeah?” You say, hands creeping into his hair to pull each time his tip brushes that spot inside you.
“Yeah.” The kiss he presses to your cheek makes your heart flutter, an act so pure in the midst it all.
You continue your torturous pace, pride warming your chest when Logan’s hands tighten on your hips, urging you to go faster.
You could go faster, but you like the way Logan looks like he’s struggling to suck in oxygen each time his cock returns to your hole.
You catch his mouth in an open, wet kiss. He grunts, and before you can even think, Logan moves his hips upwards and you cry out.
Oh.
Oh.
Suddenly, Logan’s stripped you of control and thrusts his cock deep inside you in quick, harsh movements. You’re fucking dripping, desire slicking your thighs and Logan’s. He feels so good and he’s so deep and he’s holding you in place so you have no choice but to take it, take the assaulting pace he’s set.
“Shit,” Logan grits out, arms tightly wrapped around your midsection as he fucks you from below. “This is what you wanted?”
You’re so overcome with euphoria, so deeply gone in the waves of pleasure, that you can only nod. Each time he’s fucks up into you, his pubic bone brushes your swollen, pulsing clit in a delicious graze that has tears gathering at your lash line.
“This is what you wanted? For me to fuck you dumb?” He mutters between clenched teeth, his hips moving in a deadly way now. “You just wanted to be fucking full of me, huh?”
“Yes!” You mewl, mouth falling onto his as your tongues messily swirl around, moans and groans mixing with the wet kisses.
The pressure building in your abdomen is almost too much, teasing you each time his cock slams inside. Despite being as close as physically possible, you ache to be closer.
You stop Logan, lifting yourself off him with a hiss. The sudden absence of him leaves you feeling uncomfortably empty and unconsciously, your hole clenches as wetness drips from you and onto the leather seats.
“What’s wro—“ you cut him off by pushing him until he’s laying back on the long seat. Once he’s settled down, as shock paints his expression, you climb shakily back onto his lap.
Sighs of relief echo through the air as your cunt sucks him down and a filthy squelch sounds. With him like this, he’s somehow deeper. You’re so incredibly full, it feels unreal.
The tingling, sweltering sensation in your cunt has you grinding across his lap, the base of his cock rubbing your clit delicately.
“Fuck. Doin so good for me.” Logan bends an arm behind his head so he can watch the way your eyes roll back with each grind, the way your tits jostle with each thrust and hump. “That’s it, baby.”
His praise has you finding a delicious, intoxicating rhythm as you lift up and down, up and down. The ridges and veins of his shaft kiss your walls and your thighs tremble with the feeling. Your hands reach back and grip your asscheeks to pull them apart further, needing his cock to go even deeper.
Logan is enamored by the sight before him— his pretty girl desperately splitting her cunt onto his cock, eyes rolling back with spit-slicked lips resembling an ‘o’.
His hand wraps around your throat tightly, pulling you down until your chest is flush against his. The action has you clumsy, arms swinging out to grip whatever is nearest to steady yourself. He places both hands across your ass and lifts you like you weigh nothing, mimicking your previous thrusts with more force, more speed.
A harmony of ‘uh, uh’s’ filter through his ears as Logan uses you and fucks you down onto his cock. You’re a whining mess, latching onto him tightly as his hips start to thrust upwards, his hands slamming your hips back down.
Suddenly, he wishes that he had his phone close because seeing you like this is a sight he wants to capture forever.
“C’mon, baby. Can feel how close you are.” He grits out between thrusts. One hand leaves your ass to cradle your slackened jaw, gripping tight enough as he forces your eyes on his.
Logan pushes his thumb past your lips and a deep moan falls from him as you suck at his finger. With your gaze never leaving his, you mimic a blowjob as you suck and swirl your tongue along his thumb.
“Mine.” Logan moans, his digit pressing down onto your tongue. He feels a sick sense of pleasure envelope him as you gag at the pressure, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “My fuckin’ girl.”
You nod instantly, a sweet, gooey feeling spreading across your chest at his words, at his voice. You pathetically grind down as Logan fucks upward, spit glistening your lips and his thumb as you messily suck on him.
An overbearing urge to get you to climax surges within him, and he sighs mockingly when you groan as his thumb slips from the confines of your pretty mouth. With a new vigor, Logan fucks you harder, faster, dirtier. He slips a hand between your sweaty bodies and when his fingers swirl over your clit, you explode.
The roughness of his hips, the precision of his fingertips on your clit, and the intensity of the moment catches up with you and you’re coming abruptly. It’s intense, the way a maddening bliss coats your entire body and soul. It leaves you breathless and dizzy as your eyes prickle with spots along your vision.
You’re moaning, words unintelligible against the warmth of Logan’s chest, and your cunt squeezes around him in sharp, sporadic pulses.
Logan’s so close to losing it and you don’t even realize it, too busy trying to inhale oxygen into greedy lungs. Huffs tumble from you, but instead of really trying to breathe, you lift your face to pepper wet, open mouthed kisses across his torso and that does it for him.
“Fuck…” Logan moans, gutteral and rough as he slams your hips down onto his cock, his cock painting your walls with come as euphoria encompasses him entirely. “Fuck, baby.”
Your body feels like it’s on fire— clit throbbing with overstimulation as Logan’s cock continues to fill you to the brim with his orgasm. Tears of pleasure have spilled over the apples of your cheeks, the strands of your hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face.
You continue to gently kiss up his chest and neck before you move to hold Logan’s face. Eyes fill with astonishment as you take in the way his eyes roll with the aftershocks of his peak. Thumbing at his cheeks, you kiss his lips gently before pressing kisses all along his face. His cheeks, the slope of his nose, his chin, forehead, and even the furrow of his brows.
You don’t even notice Logan staring at you with complete adoration until he removes your hand to kiss your palm.
You smile at him, bashful even with his softening cock is still inside you, stuffing you full of his come.
“C’mere.” He says, pulling you close until your lips melt over one another’s in a sweet, passionate kiss.
With a sudden thought, you pull away and fix him with a stern stare. Unfortunately for you, the furrow of your brows and purse of your lips only causes his heart to beat faster beneath the adamantium ribcage. You just look so pretty right now, sitting atop of him breathless and sweaty, a glaze settled over your irises.
“What's that face for?” His brow is raised and a smile is teasing his swollen lips.
“No more pushing me away, Logan.”
His gaze softens then, reminded of his self sabotage and the way he’s been adamant in keeping you at arms length, despite his yearn for more, his need for you.
“No more pushing you away, baby.” His lips meet yours softly, finality in his tone that eases your worries and wandering thoughts.
You lay your head down in the crook of his neck and hug him, intent to never let him go. Logan’s heart clenches with an emotion he’s not quite yet ready to face, so instead he presses a kiss to your hairline as his fingers stroke your back.
The atmosphere is no longer tense, but rather peaceful as every single desire has finally been satiated to the point of calmness. Eventually, he knows he’ll have to pull away from you and actually drive you home (and he will be coming inside, he can’t wait to properly fuck you in your bed), but he wants to stay in your embrace a little longer. It’s a blissful moment, and the serenity of it is something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.
“Logan?” You whisper, tired as you rub your nose along his neck.
“Yeah, honey.”
“I didn’t give that guy my number… I actually told him to fuck off.”
And when you say it with a slightly guilty tone, a laugh rumbles deep from his chest. He doesn’t care, because that little white lie caused him to finally say fuck it and allow you both to have each other, after months of built up tension and horribly hidden feelings.
The feeling you erupt in his chest is foreign and it scares him— but with the weight of you in his arms, he knows he’ll do anything to keep you.
˚。⋆⟡♡⟡⋆。˚ fin
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luvyeni · 3 days ago
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🥀 … ( headcanons ) perv anton ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 앤톤 ՞
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⸃ ⸰ ⌁ roommates to lovers with perv anton headcannons ヾ
BF!앤톤 ・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・unprotected sex‎, free use mention, somo kink ‎ wc ・ ‎0.9k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library
request. any perv!anton drabbles pls 🙏🏻😓
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 been a while since i did perv!idol
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before you guys get into a relationship…
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: assumed you were a boy , he was shocked to see a girl at his front door ﹚ .ᐟ
his hair covering his eyes , as he stared at you — you were barely clothed , boxes in front of you. “hello.” his eyes never leaving your chest. “im your new roommate.” he’s confused. “you’re a girl.” you look down at your chest where he was also looking then back at him. “so i’ve been told , now are you gonna let me in?”
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: he doesn’t even wait until you’re fully settled for his perversions to start ﹚ .ᐟ
a barely shows you to your room before retreating back to his room , closing and locking his door. pulling his pants down , jerking off with the thought of your boobs on his mind , the thought of cumming all over them had him cumming quickly into his hand , the first time he’d ever came so much. “hey.” his post nut clarity hitting him as you knocked on the door , he couldn’t believe he did that , but that doesn’t stop him from doing again and again.
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: finds a pair of your underwear mixed into his clothes during wash day ﹚ .ᐟ
and instead of sitting them in your room , he takes them into his room , holding them to his nose as he gets off to sight of your body from when he got a glimpse of it when you left it slightly open when you were showing and he walked by. he still remembers how he stood in the door , jerking off to sight of your body , the soap dripping down the crevices of your bust. he came so much he made a mess on the door he had to clean it up without moving the door.
“sh-shit.”
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: eventually gets caught by you ﹚ .ᐟ
it’s not like you didn’t know though , you knew since the week you came , his innocent and shy face didn’t hide the pervert inside. there’s only so many pair of panties that go missing before you start to think you’re going crazy. “not to mention , that day you watched me in the shower , you left a mess on the door.” he’s embarrassed but he’s still stroking his cock. “if you wanted to fuck me you could’ve just asked , instead of stealing my panties , and you could’ve gave them back.”
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: spends the rest of that night allowing you fuck him dumb ﹚ .ᐟ
he can’t even count how many times he’s cum , all he could think about is you riding his cock , milking him for all his cum , his dirtiest fantasies coming to life that night. cumming all over your face , letting his milky thick cum spill down your chin , down to your titties , which makes him harder , it literally takes him like three hours before you had to tap out and even then he was still hard , and had to jerk off and even then he didn’t hide it , he laid right next to your naked cum covered body , stroking his cock.
“fu-fuck fuck i can’t stop cumming , im still so hard.”
after you get into a relationship his perversions don’t stop, in fact they get worse…
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: doesn't stop stealing your panties ﹚ .ᐟ
in his nasty head he’s like “she’s my girlfriend now so she won’t mind” you often find your panties covered in his cum , and he just smiles bashfully at you.
“sorry baby , i just got carried away, they just smelled like you and you know how i get when it comes to you.”
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: is more touchy feely now that you’re all his ﹚ .ᐟ
having to move his hands off your ass constantly because he can’t stop touching it. “tonnie stop touching my ass please.” he doesn’t and you don’t even stop him after that, even when he stands behind you and rut against you like a horny dog.
“sh-shit let’s go back to the room.”
speaking of sex…
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: just gets nastier as your relationship progresses ﹚ .ᐟ
now that you’ve given him free reign of your body , he uses that to his advantage , bending you over any surfaces , pressing his hard cock against you. “fuck , you look so good right now.” I mean he’s hard all the time. “bend over baby , i just need to feel you.” pulling your pants down. “just the tip , fuck I promise.” but he never really means it , pushing fully into you , fucking you into the very surface he bent you over stuffing you full of his thick load.
“fuck that’s it just keep taking my cum…”
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: loves somophillia ﹚ .ᐟ
this mixed with the verbal consent that you’ve given him to use you whenever he wants just makes him crazy , whenever he wakes up in the middle of the night horny and doesn’t want to wake you , he’ll just roll on his side and slide right inside your waiting cunt , fucking your sleeping body , not even bothering to pull out after cumming , you wake up with his cock still inside you… hard and ready to fuck again.
“got hard last night and I need you.”
﹙ 𐙚 : perv!anton who: after sex needs to be as close as he can ﹚ .ᐟ
his head on your bare chest , his thumb on your nipple just toying with it as he came down from his high , both of you completely fucked out , unable to move. “fuck i love you so much.”
yeah he’s gross , but he’s your gross boy…
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©️LUVYENI
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avelera · 2 days ago
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Going along. with my theory that, "Both Jayce AND Viktor think the other guy is out of their league, which is why they never officially dated." I think one of the misunderstandings that keep them from hooking up sooner stems from how we, the audience, and Jayce see his first encounter with Viktor.
We, the audience, and Jayce see a sequence of events where Jayce met Viktor at his absolute lowest moment. His life's work just literally blew up in his face. Then, when he tries to pitch it to Heimerdinger he's immediately shut down, his future hopes are dashed by his expulsion from the Academy AFTER Mel goads him into talking about magic which turns the rest of the Council against him, his patron (Cassandra Kiramman) abandons him, and his mother calls him mentally unwell in front of everyone in the Council chamber and disavows what she's seen with her own eyes about the magic that has inspired him ever since.
Jayce has lost everything and is ready to end his own life in response because he sees no hope for himself, no purpose in living.
From that perspective, Viktor extending a hand, saying he believes in Jayce's work enough to dedicate his life to working alongside him, is a literal godsend. This senior classmate who is smart enough to earn a spot as the Dean's assistant throws all of that away just to give Jayce at his lowest moment his vote of confidence?
I don't think it's an understatement to say that Viktor saved Jayce's life and from that moment, the moment Viktor gives Jayce back the gem bracelet which was a symbol of Jayce's life and life's work, he is literally giving Jayce back his life and Jayce is determined to dedicate that life to saving Viktor's and making him proud with Hextech. He starts with Viktor on such a high pedestal above him as a result.
Ok, so that's all pretty obvious from the show itself. But what about Viktor's perspective?
From Viktor's perspective, Jayce saved his life, or rather, his career and all his ambitions for this world. When we meet him, Viktor had traveled as high as he can as a poor kid from the undercity, with all his disadvantages, using his own ability. He's assistant to the most powerful man (yordle) in the city on just his smarts alone. But now his life is stagnant.
His ambition was to discover a scientific innovation that would change the world and, possibly, cure himself. And here he meets this scientist, who is younger than him who through an independent study, on his own, has created the miracle which will actually transform this age. And he did it without going through the system (yes he had the Kiramman patronage but he was not telling them what he was working on), without telling anyone what he was working on, without the blessing or assistance of Heimerdinger.
Not only that, but this man is willing to stand up to the most powerful people in the city and say his research was groundbreaking. Then, when everything is stripped away from him, he's prepared to die for his convictions rather than live in a world where he can't advance his research.
I can only imagine this was incredibly humbling for Viktor, to see someone else coming up with the world's most life-changing technology while he was fussing around being an assistant. He takes the leap immediately from, again, working for the most powerful man (yordle) in the city to throwing his entire lot, his career, everything he's earned up to that point, in an all-out gamble to support the invention of Jayce's mind.
And then Jayce is generous enough to let Viktor come on board with him. To call Viktor his partner, even though he wasn't the originator of the idea (and oh BOY is that gonna become a time paradox in and of itself later, did Viktor technically originate the idea when he inspired Jayce with that stone? Where does it actually begin??). Viktor might be an assistant again, but at least he's an assistant to the most important and revolutionary work of this age.
But he doesn't see Jayce's rejection by Heimerdinger in the prison cell, or know what the strategy to survive the trial was supposed to be without the fuck-up of falling for Mel's goading, or his subsequent rejection by Cassandra Kiramman outside the gates, or his mother's rejection of the magical event they saw with their own eyes. He doesn't see Jayce's lowest moments, only the two ideological stands he took both in defending his work to the Council and being willing to die when it's taken from him.
Basically, Viktor could very well see himself as second-fiddle to Jayce in accomplishment alone, then throw in everything Jayce has just naturally, like his looks and his background, and you begin to piece together why both of them might have thought the other was out of his league, and why Viktor fought so hard to create innovations to match Jayce's, or seen himself as flawed and a work in progress until he had such independent accomplishments, and why he would hesitate to confess his feelings to Jayce until he felt he had something to offer in return, not realizing he had already given Jayce the world and literally given Jayce back his life.
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moltengoldveins · 2 days ago
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no no babe. These are the stages every homosexual goes through. You start as a wealthy bisexual who has married a woman in the attempt to hide your gayness, gradually lose your wealth due to your crippling mental health and guilt over your own sexuality until you are demoralized and divorce your wife, only then coming to the realization that really, you aren’t past your prime at all! You’re still young! You throw yourself wildly into club life and, through prostitution become fabulously wealthy again, eventually hiring a sugar baby. You go out into society again, this time as a wealthy businessman with…. Unusual proclivities nobody speaks about. Then one day you make the wrong advance at the wrong time and OOP! Prison! But, due to your fabulously expensive lawyers get off with a year or so. After your release you think you should maybe get out of town a bit, just till things settle down, and join a sailing crew, which are frankly the gayest people on the planet other than soldiers, which you soon become! You’re pressed into service when your ship is scuttled midway through the war and, though you manage to find solace in some of your fellow soldiers, the horrors and tortures of combat truly destroy your mind and soul. You return home in shambles, take to drink as a reprieve from the ptsd, your repressed guilt over your sexuality mixing in an angry cocktail with your guilt about surviving when your lovers in the trenches did not. Finally, in your waning years, you stumble drunk into a church and find God, committing yourself to the clergy, accepting yourself as you are but choosing a life of celibacy in your twilight years before passing away peacefully in your sleep. This is the life of literally every gay person Shiney I can’t believe you don’t know this.
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stingraygun · 3 days ago
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Doubt comes in.
I made this comic based off a WW lives au I made with my friend! I'll put a little more context and explanation below in the read more
OKAY, so this is part of the WW lives/family au, and I thought of this comic after thinking about my writing choice of Vash forcing Wolfwood to leave with the orphanage rather than seeing his last moments with him. I was also thinking of the song "Doubt Comes In" from Hadestown (which is where the caption is from) and the legend of Orpheus and Eurydice.
Course, the main point of Vash making Wolfwood leave like that is so that he'd live, but I do enjoy thinking about how that changes the tone and beliefs they might hold about each other in their parting. Natural disclaimer this is mainly personal interpretations and stuff I've discussed with my best friend lmao.
But as I see it, Vol 10 was when Vash and Wolfwood truly realized how much they meant to each other. Wolfwood was the first to realize how much he began to care for Vash, even considering them friends, but still felt that he was less important than Knives being dealt with and left without asking for help. I also imagine he left without a word. Not realizing that Vash would choose to chase after him over preparing to face Knives despite the risk. And I don't think Vash quite realized how much Wolfwood meant to him until that moment. And that in his entire life of leaving, he wanted to ask someone to stay. Only to realize at the same moment that he was going to lose Wolfwood.
There's a bit where Vash initially tries to convince Wolfwood to leave on the ship with the orphanage, and I see this as Vash telling Wolfwood to spend his last moments with them instead. While I do think Wolfwood was scared of their reaction, he wanted to spend what time he had with Vash. Vash, who runs, leaves, and sacrifices so much so he doesn't have to watch others die, stays, shares a drink, and watches Wolfwood die. And they both know that their love is reciprocated.
Now, considering that all, what happens if Vash chooses to make Wolfwood leave instead? He'd instead choose to live with the uncertainty of Wolfwood's fate so he can keep him alive in his heart despite his doubt about Wolfwood's survival. To refuse to look back. Regardless of whether Wolfwood lives, It'd feel like rejection rather than reciprocation. In my mind, it's a selfish choice for Vash to make, but he doesn't want to lose Wolfwood and would instead choose to doubt and live apart from him rather than look back and know he's gone forever.
The comic is set sometime after Wolfwood finds Vash and works things out (as well as they can, considering who they are). They're traveling together at this point and spending their tomorrows by each other's side, exactly like Vash wanted. But he's never really learned how to stop grieving, and I think there'd be moments where he begins to doubt what's right in front of him or fears that when he wakes the next day, it's been taken from him again.
Okay comic breakdown time and thoughts:
Page 1: Tried to make the room kind of skewed kind of unsettling. All the bg elements (window, door, side table) are on Vash's side while Wolfwood's side is empty. Vash stares forward blankly (I referenced his expression in Vol 10 when Livio asks where Wolfwood is). He's meant to look exhausted like he's been awake this entire time. He's afraid to go to sleep, thinking that if he falls asleep, then Wolfwood will vanish. Wolfwood is almost entirely obstructed and shadowed because even then, Vash doesn't entirely trust or believe he's here. His hand grasps the darkness of where Wolfwood's chest should be.
Page 2: It's almost complete darkness, and Wolfwood's arm, even slides to grasp Vash's, is a scratchy shadow. Vash is still doubting what he's feeling, but as his hand is pressed against Wolfwood's heart, he feels life in there.
Page 3: Wolfwood starts to come into more detail, though he is still obstructed. Vash's doubt starts to ease somewhat, but the anxiety of Wolfwood leaving remains. He still refuses to look directly until Wolfwood turns over in bed, forcing him to look at his face.
Page 4: Vash is still struggling to entirely believe what's in front of him, and being said asks tomorrow like the answer might change then. Finally Wolfwood's face comes into view as he kisses Vash's ring finger, a promise and a vow that he's that the rest of his days are Vash's. I chose the phrase "And all my days after." on purpose rather than something like "and every day after" because Wolfwood knows his time is significantly shorter than Vash's. He can't promise eternity, to be there for the rest of Vash's life, or to grow old together. But what time he does have left, he gives to Vash. Vash believes him.
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visionsofyouandme · 2 days ago
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it's golden (like daylight)
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𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Winter is coming, bringing loneliness and shorter days. But Joel still finds he values the daylight (and you) through it all.
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 13.6k
𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: Afab!reader w she/her pronouns (but no physical descriptions), fluff, slow burn, pining!Joel, Jackson!Joel, post-outbreak, soft!joel, swearing, some physical violence (not against reader), age gap or no age gap- you decide!, POV switching, alcohol consumption, SMUT (18+ MDNI), oral (f receiving), praise kink, Joel talks you through it, p in v sex, apocalypse BC method (pulling out), aftercare. Happy ending! (Moodboard for vibes and vibes only)
𝙰/𝙽: Well, here it is! The full-on, real deal. If you think this is familiar, it's because I originally posted parts 1 & 2 on my other blog, @queeneamidala but this is my new, improved, and SOLELY writing blog. I'm so excited to share the full thing with you guys. This is my first full length, finished fic in so so long. I would love any and all feedback- comments, likes, reblogs, you name it! Anyway, can't wait to share this lil journey with ya'll. Hope you enjoy <3
Read here on AO3 !
Joel was eating idly in the cafeteria when he heard Ellie’s voice. He glanced back, and noticed her talking to a woman he had seen around the town of Jackson. She was a friend of Tommy and Maria’s, he knew that much. Hell, a friend to everyone in town but him, it seemed. Granted, he hadn’t spoken a word to her, or opened the door to conversation in the first place. Some would say it was out of shyness or fear, but really, he just felt unworthy of her attention. 
She was beautiful, but that was just a general observation. 
You were beautiful, and he had come to this conclusion several times while passing you by in town. He had noticed you speaking to nearly every person in town. You had a very easy-going air about you, friendly. Open. 
So, he steered clear. Forming personal connections outside of immediate family was not something he was keen on. He has had a life fraught with grief, seen and done unspeakable things. He wasn’t meant to be loved, not after everything he’s done.
But the way you talked to Tommy, and now Ellie more and more often had Joel at an uncomfortably close proximity to you. Your presence was drawing near, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.
He sort of didn’t want to stop it.
But, just when he thought you were going to approach the table to sit, you broke away from Ellie and walked to a different table. He felt something drop in his chest. Was that really, really disappointment that he felt?
“Makin’ friends?” Joel questioned as Ellie sat down, and she snorted.
“Why? Jealous?” She said with a smirk, and Joel cocked up an eyebrow. 
“You could use a friend.” Ellie added, and Joel shifted a bit uncomfortably.
“I don’t need anyone.” He said into his food, and Ellie made a face, rolling her eyes.
“Everybody needs at least someone.” 
Joel’s eyes shifted to you sitting at the table just across from them. Your smile was radiant, and he felt something twist in his chest.
No
He wasn’t meant to be loved.
~*~*~
Winter was coming, and the people in town were preparing. You were busy but still managed to make time for people. For everyone, really. Joel was almost envious about how easy you talked to people. He didn’t have the same talent, but he was fine with that.
So, one day, when he was called upon a house to help with some faulty wiring, he was taken aback when it was your house he was called to.
You didn’t need help. Not really. You were fairly self sufficient, and made your own way through town. Joel knew this, and it made him nervous when you called upon him specifically to make sure you were prepared for the wintertime. 
But, he took his toolkit and went to your place. The door was open, but…
You weren’t home.
He felt disappointment in his chest again. He shook it off though and walked to the side of the house outside. He opened the box and began to work diligently, his mind wandering to other things. But he tried to fight off the thoughts of you and how disappointed he felt when he found out you weren’t home. However, they just kept coming around again, and again, and again.
“You look so serious.” A voice said, and Joel jerked back like he had been electrocuted. His head swiveled to the side and he saw you standing there, leaning against the side of the house with your arms crossed. You looked so effortless and cool, and-
How long had you been standing there?
“Job’s gotta get done.” Joel said, gesturing to the box, “as you requested.”
You nodded, and a smile creeped into your face that he hadn’t seen before. He had seen you smile plenty of times- laughing and talking with the people in town, with Maria, with Ellie. But this felt different. Or was he just imagining it?
“Yeah, you came highly recommended.” You said, and Joel scoffed, turning back to the box and tried to get back to work. But, he was horrible at multitasking, especially when it came down to you distracting him by your presence alone.
“Don’t sell yourself short. Ellie was insistent that you were the best the town had.” You said, and Joel lost his concentration and nearly dropped the screwdriver he held.
Christ, I’m gonna kill that girl. 
He furrowed his brow like nothing happened and kept working. He was definitely going to talk to Ellie later. The last thing he needed was the whole town to be depending on him for maintenance.
But for you…? Well, it wasn’t so bad.
“Sorry I wasn’t there to receive you. Work held me up.” You said, gesturing behind you. Joel finally flicked a switch and the box buzzed to life. He felt himself deflate a bit. Guess it was time for him to go.
“No worries.” He said, putting his tools back in the toolbox and stood straight. He held the box in hand, and regarded you with soft brown eyes. You pushed off the corner of the house, and smiled that bright smile of yours.
“You… let me know if there’s- if there’s anythin’ else.” Joel said, trying to keep it drawn out but it sounded rushed to his ears. He nodded minutely and you stepped out of the way.
“Thank you. It means more to me than you know.” You said, and shifted, your shoulders brushing by accident. Joel simply nodded, and made his way home.
He rubbed his arm after a few minutes of walking, trying to savor the warmth blooming under his skin.
~*~*~
Tommy and Joel were sitting at The Tipsy Bison, talking over a few drinks.
You had requested Joel’s help two more times now. Both small and trivial, but Joel was more than happy to help. You weren’t there the second time he came, but when he was there the third time, you offered him coffee. He was an idiot, and turned you down. But, that smile never wavered.
“Next time.” You said. 
Next time, Joel thought. There was going to be a next time? He hoped so.
“I see you’re helping some people out. Good for you to get some socializing in.” Tommy noted after taking a sip of his drink. Joel shrugged,
“It’s fine, I guess. Just doin’ my part.” He said. Tommy nodded, and regarded his brother with a peculiar expression. Joel felt like he was plotting something, but didn’t have time to really think about it before a voice pulled him from his thoughts. 
“Well, you two look like you’re having fun. Mind if we cut in?” Maria questioned, and Joel barely looked up, until it registered in his mind.
We?
You settled into the seat beside Joel while Maria took the one by Tommy, boxing the boys in. Joel instinctively stiffened, and hoped you didn’t notice. If you did, you didn’t show it.
“What are we drinking tonight, boys?” You questioned, and Joel glanced at you. He cleared his throat, looking down, and held up his glass slightly.
“Whatever they’re trying to pass off as whsikey.” He said, and you looked at him. He felt like a deer in the headlights, watching you look at him. It felt like time was suspended, and he gulped. But, you smiled like it was nothing and turned to the bartender.
“I’ll have what he’s having.” You said, jutting your thumb at Joel. The bartender slid the glass into your hand with ease. Joel thought everything you did was effortless. You certainly made it seem so.
It dawned on him that Tommy and Maria were knee-deep in their own conversation, promptly blocking off you two. It felt intentional, causing Joel to be put on the spot, under your eye.
“Thanks for all your help by the way.” You said, taking a sip of the amber liquid. Joel nodded, his brown eyes casting down to his glass.
“Anytime.” He said with a dismissive wave of his hand. It wasn’t lost on you that Joel was slowly becoming a bigger part of the community. He wasn’t just keeping to himself, but helping others with house repairs or such. You hadn't seen him offer such services until you had reached out to him. 
But, he didn’t do it for them. He knew that deep down inside. 
He did it for you.
“I gotta say, Mr. Miller, you’re an enigma.” You said with a light laugh. Joel’s eyebrows furrowed, and felt his stomach lurched at you saying his name, even if it was his last name. “You know; a mystery, something hard to explain.”
“I ain’t no mystery.” He said, shaking his head. You grinned, and tilted your head to the side. Joel felt his mouth go dry, so he took a sip of his drink to quell it.
“Okay, okay.” You said, shrugging and turned your gaze across the bar. He felt your elbows becoming achingly close. If he just shifted just slightly, he could feel you against him. 
“Mind if I stop by tomorrow?” You said so abruptly that it threw his thoughts off.
“Sorry?”
“I got Ellie a new book. Something about space and aliens and shit. Something I think she’d like.” You said. Joel felt a twinge of appreciation there. So, somebody was looking after Ellie besides him. He liked that. It warmed his hardened heart. 
“Sure. You can drop it off.” He said, and he stole a glance your way. You were grinning, but trying to hide it. You took a sip of your beer to try to mask it, but he could see the way the corners of your lips quirked up. 
“I’ll be there then.”
~*~*~
Joel had waited for you for a day or two. He found reasons to stay home, claiming he wasn’t feeling well, that he was sick. So, when you finally knocked on his door towards the end of the second day, he was surprised to find you holding a dish in your hand as well as the book.
“Heard you weren’t feeling well. Made you a little something.” You said so casually. But, Joel was floored. You heard about him, and went out of your way to do something for him?
He felt bad for faking his illness. But, the fact you did this? It flooded his chest with gratitude, and an ache that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
“Thank you.” He said, and went to take it but then paused. You laughed,
“I don’t care about getting sick. Here.” You said, and handed him the dish, barely crossing over the threshold. He took it gingerly, and looked down at it. Whatever it was, it looked damn good.
“Do you… would ya want to come in?” He offered. You suddenly beamed, and god, if that wasn’t a sight to see. Joel thought there wouldn’t be anything better in the world.
“Sure.” You responded, and Joel moved to let you inside. As you passed, he could smell your soap, or personal scent- whatever it was, he felt lightheaded in the best way. He closed the door and walked to the kitchen, you following him along.
“I also have the book. Hope Ellie’s not too mad it took me so long.” You laughed and set the book on the kitchen table. Joel walked to the other side, setting down the dish.
“‘M sure she won’t mind.” He said, and his eyes shifted to you. You and all your beauty, your kindness, the way your eyes smiled even while you were sharing a passive look.
“Do you want some coffee?” He questioned, and there he went, sounding rushed again. He just wanted you to stay, to share you sunlight with him just a bit longer. You had a knowing smile, and nodded gently.
“Yeah. I’d like that.” When you agreed to it, he got busy. He nearly knocked off the mugs off the counter trying to prepare everything. You sat at the table, and glanced down at the book. Joel looked back to see your attention on something else other than him, and felt a little more at ease.
“I got a patrol coming up.” You said, and Joel poured the dark liquid into one of the faded mugs. He turned and carried it to you at the table, sitting across from you.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. They switched up my partner, though. Hannah isn’t feeling well, so they put me with someone else.” You said, and he could see for the first time something else in your expression- anxiety. Fear. 
He didn’t like it, to see you facing such emotions. He wished he could wrap them all up and throw them away. Whatever it took to see your smile again.
“Who’ya going with?”
“Jim Harris.” You replied with a nod, and Joel sat up a bit straighter. He didn’t like Jim, he always came off as loud and imposing. He didn’t have the best reputation when it came to women, either. He was rude and disrespectful, and there had been some complaints about harassment made against him. 
“I see.” He said. Why did anyone assign you with Jim Harris, of all people? They knew of his ways and his complaints. The last thing they needed was to put him with you, all while alone. 
No, he wouldn’t stand for that.
“I’ll get ‘em to switch things around. I’ll go with you.” He said, and nodded with finality. You looked at him, a bit surprised if not shocked. 
“Oh. You really don’t have to-“ But he waved you off.
“I can get some strings pulled so you won’t have to deal with him. Besides, I just… I can’t stand someone like him being near y-” but he paused, and tried to recover before he could say something stupid. “ It ain’t right.” He settled, his fingers gripping the coffee mug a bit tighter at the thought of Jim laying even a finger on you. You looked at Joel, the shock really settling in now. Joel was unaware of the gravity of his words in the moment, something he would regret later. Not that he said them, but that he hadn’t said more. 
“… Thank you.” You said quietly. Joel looked at you, and felt his chest bloom with warmth. Your words, though short and few, were filled with gratitude and relief that didn’t go unnoticed by Joel. 
“Anything you need, darlin’.” He said, the name rolling off his lips before he could stop himself. You smiled, and Joel would have given you the moon right then and there if you asked.
He cleared his throat as if it would clear the air, and he visibly relaxed. Knowing you would be under his care and away from Jim Harris’ whole being made him feel better. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a strong need to be by your side when the time for patrol comes. It just felt right that he would be there to protect you.
“A true southern gentleman.” You mused as you took a sip of your coffee. Joel’s face flushed, and he averted his gaze, and began to speak but you cut him off.
“I like it.” 
Joel felt the ghost of a smile on his lips, and he glanced at you, shrugging.
“Old habits die hard, I guess.” He said, and rubbed the back of his neck. He could feel his hair curling under his fingertips as he did so. He needed a haircut, and sorely.
But, the town was lacking a barber, so he figured he would do it himself one of these days. 
“A good habit to have.” You said, and he chuckled.
“Whatever you say, da-“ but he quickly cut himself off and hurriedly spoke your name instead. You smiled, regardless of what he called you. He found he liked saying your name. It felt personal, more grounded to reality. He was having a hard time grappling with reality ever since you crossed the threshold of his home. He couldn’t believe you were here, in his kitchen, drinking his coffee. He wanted this moment to last as long as time would allow- he would commit it to memory. Every word, every glance, every piece. 
He found he did that often with you- just taking in any bit of you you had to offer, when he was feeling brave enough. 
“I gotta get back.” You said, and stood up, rubbing your hands together to conserve the warmth of the coffee mug. Joel stood up, and nodded hurriedly, though he already felt the air grow cold in the absence of your presence.
“Of course. I’ll… I’ll walk you out.” He said, and stood up as well. He walked with you to the door at a snail’s pace, and you talked about your work for the rest of the day. The walk was all too short, and Joel’s hand rested on the doorknob. He looked at you, his brown eyes taking you in before he released you back to the world. 
“Take it easy. I’ll see you on patrol. Okay?” He said, and you gave him that gut wrenching smile. Could have brought him to his knees if you so desired.
“Sounds good, Joel.” You said, and he opened the door, the chill coming in as you wrapped your jacket tighter around yourself. You smiled and gave him the lightest wave, and headed out into the cold Wyoming winter.
He watched you go, and his name still hung in the air. Despite the door being open, the cold sweeping in, he felt warm. 
Oh, he was such a goner.
~*~*~
Joel trudged to the outer part of town, gun slung over his shoulder. He promised he would meet you at the edge, where they traded out patrols. He had been busy with other things that day, and felt horrible that he couldn’t walk with you. But, he knew that a few hours alone with you would make up for that. 
At least, that’s what he hoped.
He came up and saw Tommy standing with a few others, talking indistinctly. When Joel approached, Tommy and the others turned. As they did, the group opened up and he could see you standing on the far side. Your face quite literally beamed up when you saw him. 
“Ready for another shift?” Tommy chuckled as Joel came up closer. “You’ll have to show the new girl all the ropes.” 
You rolled your eyes, but your smile was still evident on your face. Joel nodded, and he couldn’t help it as his lips quirked up on the ends when he met your eyes. This wasn’t lost on you, or Tommy for that matter. No one had seen Joel so much as literally turn his frown upside down, not even in the slightest. So, this was an interesting event for all involved.
“Well, no time like the present.” Joel said, and nodded forward. You bid goodbye to the others and walked with Joel across the town lines into the woods. He could sense your unease, and he glanced down to see a pistol on your hip.
“You know how to use that?” He questioned. You looked over at Joel and followed his gaze to the gun at your side, and then looked forward quickly.
“Unfortunately, yes.” You said. Joel frowned, but said nothing. 
As you two reached the outpost where you’d be staying, Joel let you climb up the ladder first. He followed shortly after, his head swiveling around for any signs of life that weren’t supposed to be there. When he was safely inside, he closed the makeshift door and sat down next to you.
It was cold inside. Almost bitterly so. Joel was fine, having his heavy jacket and several layers. He had done this before, so he came prepared, especially in the colder months.
You, on the other hand, were miserable. Not expecting it to be *this* cold, you were wholly unprepared for the coldness that seeped into the wooden outpost about 12 feet off the ground. You sat on the chair and crossed your legs to conserve warmth, shoving your hands between your thighs to keep them from freezing. 
Yeah, this was gonna be a long shift. 
Joel, ever vigilant, noticed that you were shifting uneasily. But, his thoughts ran elsewhere besides the cold. Were you afraid of him? Was this awkward? Did he make a mistake taking over Jim’s shift with you? Was this overstepping some invisible boundary?
But then, you spoke,
“Can’t believe it’s this fucking cold.” 
Your voice trembled a bit, and he watched you closely. His eyes softened a bit, and he took in your form. Yeah, you weren’t nearly as bulked up with layers as him. He set his gun down on the floor, leaning it against the window sill. You looked over at him, and it dawned on you very quickly about what he was about to do.
“Joel, don’t-“
“Can’t have you freezin’ on me, sweetheart. Won’t do much good if you’re an icicle.” He said, and shed his large jacket. Before he knew what he was doing, he stood and draped it over your shoulders. You sat still as he did so, and the warmth flooded you almost immediately. He sat back down, and your face was flushed with red. You cleared your throat, looking down at your hands.
“Thanks.” You said quietly. Joel nodded, like it was something he’d done a million times. He shifted his gaze back to the landscape that sprawled out in front of you.
You sat in a comfortable silence, and you eventually threaded your arms through Joel’s jacket. It smelled of cedar and musk, and you had always wondered what he smelled like. It felt as though he were enveloping you in a warm hug. You wondered if he ever did that sort of thing.
“When did you come here?” Joel questioned after a few minutes. You were surprised at his initiation of the conversation, but certainly not mad about it. 
“About 8 months ago. Came from a QZ in Georgia after it fell apart.” You replied. Joel looked over at you, and you continued to look out of the outpost.
“Escaped with a group of good people. We tried to find someplace else, someplace safe. It was one of the hardest things I had to do. Lead them to safety, after my husband died.” You explained, and Joel’s chest twisted. He had never noticed a ring on your finger, but he could see a faded outline of where one used to be.
“But, keeping everyone together was hard. Death followed us everywhere- Clickers, disease, bad food, water. The world seemed to pick us off one by one.” Joel shifted his gaze to outside. He could tell you hadn’t spoken about this often, and he could sense a tremor in your voice. 
“Eventually it was just me, wandering the woods. I felt hopeless, without purpose. I began to go kind of… well, insane. I don’t know how long I was out there til Tommy found me. Took me straight to the infirmary where they had to basically take care of me until I was able to be on my own two feet.” You said, and looked down, your hands clasped tightly together so much your knuckles turned white. Joel was stoic, unmoving, but his presence felt comforting. You didn’t know why you felt so comfortable with him, so you didn’t stop from going on.
“I’ve done some… terrible things. I’ve- seen so much… death. Coming here, it was a saving grace. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself much longer had they not found me.” You said. Joel’s heart dropped at this revelation, his eyes were soft with empathy. He knew all about hopelessness, about wanting to give up. About not having anything or anyone to live for. His finger traced the scar on his temple lightly before quickly dropping his hand in his lap. 
Had Ellie not come into his life, he would have taken the easy route out, and not missed that time. But, he just hated that you felt like you had to do the same. That wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve to feel like that, not with how caring and kind you were. Not with how you literally made people’s days light up at the sound of your laugh or your smile.
It just wasn’t fair, this world you both lived in.
“I feel like I try to do good things to make up for all the bad I’ve done.” You added, though your voice was so small and quiet. Joel knew that feeling all too well.
“I’m sorry.” Joel could only say, and you looked at him to already see his eyes on you. You smile, but this one was sad, weak. You shrugged, and sighed deeply,
“It’s life, isn’t it? It’s never easy. But, the small things make it better. Good people, especially.” Joel noticed how your smile deepened a bit, and he could see that glint in your eyes. He nodded, and couldn’t imagine you would rope him into the “good people” category. But, he also saw your face, and how you looked at him, that maybe you did. 
And it made him feel… nice. 
“Yeah, the good ones. Few and far between. But, they exist.” He said, his eyes looking between your own. 
“I think there’s good people here.” You said, nodding forward. “You’re good people.”
And Joel, without knowing it, smiled. It wasn’t grand, it wasn’t teeth-showing, but it was a smile. One that betrayed him immensely, but he couldn’t stop it now. Even though he disagreed, he couldn’t voice it. Not to you. He couldn’t go against anything you said, it would feel like a personal crime.
“So are you. I hope you know that.” He said, and reached out to take your icy hand within his own. You looked at him, studying his face as you gripped his hand back. 
And to Joel, the world just got a little bit brighter.
~*~*~
“Where are you going?” Joel said as he sat on the couch in the living room, feet propped up on the coffee table. Ellie stalked past him to the door, and looked over her shoulder, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Out.” She said, and stormed through the door. Joel sighed. Teenagers.
He sat, listening to the crackly turntable in the corner. It played an old jazz record he borrowed from the library. Not his true cup of tea, but it was better than nothing. He needed to trade some other old ones in for new ones, but he had listened to the whole library by now.
He felt at ease for once. He played the time spent with you on patrol over and over. After your conversation, you spoke of happier, better things. Old baseball legends, old music, basically a throwback of pop culture before the world went to shit. You told him a funny story about your job that actually drew a true chuckle from him. He just felt… better around you. Your easy going demeanor and openness was enough to make him want to share with you. Share smiles, laughter, time together. 
And god, he loved all three when it came to you.
The record clicked to signal its ending, and he stood up, walking over to turn it over. Just as he put the needle down, there was a knock at the door. 
He walked to the door and opened it, seeing you standing there before him, looking chilled to the bone. He gestured for you to come inside quickly, and you shuffled in, huffing into your hands.
“What the hell ya doin’ out there in the cold for?” He said sternly, more concerned than upset, eyebrows furrowing. You shrugged, crossing your arms.
“Wanted to see you.” You said, and his jaw clamped shut.
Well. Okay.
He stood, like an idiot, in silence for a moment, before nodding minutely. 
“Make yourself at home. I’ll make coffee.” He said, and hurried to the kitchen. Even though it was nearly 7 in the evening, he needed time to process what you said, and that you were here to see him. 
You felt more warmth in Joel’s house than your own, and shed your boots and jacket, hung up the latter and walked to the couch. Sitting down, you tucked your feet under you to make them warm again. You looked around, trying to find the source of the music that was playing. You saw the record player in the corner, and smiled fondly. Of course Joel was a music guy, it just made sense. 
He walked back to the living room with two cups of steaming coffee, and walked to the couch. He sat down on the far side, giving you space, but leaned over to hand you the mug. 
“Got somethin’ on your mind?” He questioned as he took a sip. You took a hefty gulp and felt the warmth move down your throat and into your stomach. You were beginning to feel again, from your head to your toes. You felt less like an ice cube and more like a human, now.
“Just… wanted to see how you were doing. Been busy these last couple of days, I feel like I’ve neglected my friends.” She said with a light laugh. Joel’s eyebrows shot straight up, and he smiled small. Joel didn’t have friends. He had family. But, he would make an exception for you.
Maybe one day, you’d be family, too. 
He liked the idea of that.
“Ellie tells me you’ve been working like crazy, too. People are starting to like you. You better watch out, cause the ladies already fawn over you as is.” You laughed, and Joel regarded you with an unconvinced expression. He didn’t think anyone noticed him, let alone “fawn” over him. He just did his work, day in and day out. He was unaware of the “extra attention” he was drawing from the female crowd.
He didn’t see them, because he only saw you.
“Never noticed them. Didn’t think anybody noticed me.” He said simply, taking a sip of coffee. You shook your head, and smiled into your coffee.
“I noticed you. Always have.” You said, and Joel’s eyes shifted to you as you sat across from him on the couch. He found himself getting closer and closer to you. Not physically, but emotionally. The comfort level was at a steady pace. He wanted to be sitting closer to you, to feel your body heat and drink in your comforting presence. 
“Well, it’s hard not to notice you, darlin’.” He said. You blushed, and hid your face in your mug as you took a sip.
Joel was a man of few words. He was never good at them, never entirely graceful or eloquent. But now, he wished he was. He wanted to tell you how he felt, how much he cared, how much he really liked you.
But, he just didn’t know how. 
And he hated himself for that.
“What are you listening to?” You teased after a few minutes of silence, a saxophone filling the air. Joel wracked his brain to figure out who the artist was. 
“Louis Armstrong, I think. Jazz is the last genre I haven’t listened to at the library.” He said. You raised her eyebrows, then knitting together. And then, you laughed. 
“Never would have pegged you for a jazzy guy.” You said, and began to laugh. “Country, maybe. But- but smooth jazz? God.” You covered your face to keep the laughing tears from escaping you as your body shook with giggles.
Normally, Joel would frown upon someone laughing at him. But, it was you. He was making you happy, making you laugh- 
Now that. That was true music. 
“Yeah, well,” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m full of surprises.”
“Yes, yes you are, Joel Miller.” You said, lowering your hand and looking over at him. He looked down at his mug, his pinky finger tapping against the edge lightly.
He wanted to find a reason for you to say his name again. And maybe again. He just wanted to hear you speak about anything under the sun, that would be enough for him. 
“Tell you what, Joel,” you said, and shifted on the couch to face him, leaning your elbow along the back of the couch. He shifted as well, turning his body a little towards yours. “You tell me a story, and I’ll tell you a story.”
“A story?”
“Yeah, fictional or true. I don’t care- I just…” you said, and silence followed. Joel waited patiently for you to finish. His heart was hammering in his chest, but on the outside he was calm and collected. 
You shrugged, and looked at him with a light smile. You didn’t have to say it. Joel knew. You knew. You just liked each other’s company, you liked the sound of each other’s voices. And it was becoming more and more apparent to the both of you.
“Alright.” Joel agreed, and your soft smile turned into a grin. He took a sip of coffee, and thought for a moment.
“I got one for ya. Not real, but a good story. Ever heard of the movie Smokey and the Bandit?”
“No.” You laughed. 
“Good. ‘Cause I’m gonna tell ya all about it.”
~*~*~
The minutes turned to hours that night. You left sometime around midnight. And then you were back two days later, and the conversation struck up again. It turned into you two alternating between each other’s houses. Patrols got more frequent for you, and Joel was insistent that he go with you, not anyone else. 
Joel continued helping around the town, fixing broken things but keeping to himself when he wasn’t with you, Ellie, or Tommy. Ellie was making friends, and would visit them often, leaving him alone most evenings. 
But there was you, there to fill his time and capture his attention.
You were sitting in Joel’s living room one evening, the fire crackling in the fireplace to offer more warmth. You sat next to Joel, closer than ever before, your coffees already consumed and empty mugs sitting on the coffee table. 
Joel’s arm was slung across the back of the sofa instinctively, and you enjoyed the close proximity. Your knee brushed his every so often, leaving you both wanting more. But, things like this take time, and Joel was a gentleman. He wouldn’t press anything, too afraid to mess up whatever relationship was forming between you.
“Jim Harris approached me the other day.” You said, and Joel’s hand clenched at his side. Ever since he took over patrols with you, it seemed Jim was trying to find ways to confront you, but not Joel. Joel wondered why, as he was the one to change things up when it came to patrols. He guessed Jim thought you were an easier target. 
“He wanted to talk. I was in the middle of running food to Mrs. March’s house, she’s got a sick kid. I waved him off, but it still felt… weird.” You said and sighed, rubbing your forehead in thought.
“Other people have been acting weird lately, too. They ask about you a lot.” You added, and Joel looked towards the fireplace. While no one outwardly approached him, he could sense some of the womenfolk asking him to come around more often. Simple, almost dumb fixes. Some of them looked like self sabotage, and he was beginning to get his suspicions. He may be old, and sometimes oblivious, but it was getting more apparent that he was being eyed by several of the single (and sometimes even married) women in town.
Joel had seen the occasional man talk to you. They often leaned in to you as they did, or leaned against a wall or building post, trying to come off as cool or suave. You always smiled and talked cordially, not wanting to make any enemies. Some of them made you laugh, and that definitely didn’t make Joel feel jealous.
“Do I need to give a good talkin’ to to anyone?” Joel questioned, and you laughed, shaking your head.
“I think that would make things worse than better. But, I appreciate it all the same.” You said, your hand patting his knee. He glanced down, and your hand lingered for just a second longer than he anticipated, before you drew it away and back into your lap. 
“You know I’d do anything for ya. I’m not above roughing up somebody, so long as they leave you alone after.” He said, looking down to his lap, and you smiled lightly. You looked at him, and your faces were close. Closer than they had ever been before. Joel could feel the softness of your breath against his skin, and he felt his heart thrumming in his chest. 
He could feel the tension in the air, and could feel your gaze on him. He wondered what you were thinking, and raised his eyes to meet yours.
You had never seen brown eyes so dark, so beautiful, so…
The door was then wrestled open, and Ellie walked inside. She made a face at seeing you and Joel so close, but closed the door behind her. You wanted to move, but you felt Joel’s hand touch your shoulder lightly, subtly inviting you to stay.
“Tommy’s asking around for you.” Ellie said, kicking off her shoes and it made Joel flinch. He sighed, and his arm swung from your shoulders. He stood up, his knees cracking slightly, and silently cursed his older age for catching up with him.
“What’d I tell you about the shoes?” Joel said firmly to Ellie, who rolled her eyes and picked them up, setting them by the door and made an ‘okay?’ gesture. Joel looked over at you, who stood up and grabbed the coffee mugs.
“Duty calls.” You said, and smiled lightly as you carried the mugs to the kitchen. Joel sighed, and walked to the front door, pulling on his jacket and boots. You came out quickly after, and Ellie plopped down on the couch where you two had been sitting, picking up her book from the far side table. You looked as you passed, and tilted your head to the side.
“City of Ember? What’s that?” You questioned, and Ellie sat up, her eyes lighting up, and she grinned.
“One of the coolest books ever. It’s about a civilization underground, and…” she began rambling about it, and opened the book to show you the chapter she was on. You smiled, and looked at Joel.
“I’ll catch up with you later.” You said, and Joel couldn’t help but soften at the event unfolding before him. You walked over to the couch and sat next to Ellie, and she eagerly told you about the book. Joel held the doorknob, and just watched for a moment. 
It was at times like these that he felt like the future was a little bit brighter for him.
~*~*~
“You’re going soft, old man.” Tommy joked at the bar one night. The snow had come and blanketed the town with white, and there was talk of Christmas celebrations. The town was much more merry than Joel had ever seen it. Or maybe, Joel was just feeling… well, maybe he was feeling a little bit of everything. Everything seemed brighter and warmer, even despite the cold weather.
Joel said nothing to Tommy’s remark. He kept quiet, his eyes always finding their way back to the doors of the bar. He was waiting, hoping, wanting.
And when you walked in, he felt his chest loosen for the first time that day. Tommy followed Joel’s gaze, and then back to his brother.
Suddenly, all the talk around town made sense. Tommy had his questions, but he knew his brother wouldn’t give them willingly. Joel never confided in anyone. Except, it seemed, you. 
The talk of the town was that you guys were screwing. Only because you two were alone quite a lot. And at night, for that matter. People talk, it’s a small town, and people get jealous. Rumors swirl, and things are said. Joel had been picking up the pieces, but tried to be the bigger person. It wasn’t anybody’s business as to what you two were behind closed doors.
But, instead of making your way to the bar where Joel sat, a form stepped in your way. 
“Jim.” You greeted, and could smell the alcohol on his breath, as he was that close to you.
“Been trying to catch you at a good time.” Jim said, and you feigned a disgusted look. You, like much of the other women in town, did not like Jim. 
“Well, now’s still not-“
“Come on, just give me a second. If you can make time for that ancient asshole over there, then you can make time for me.” He said with a cocky air to him, and you tried to step around him, but he stepped with you.
Joel’s fist tightened at his side, and he pushed his beer to the side, beginning to rise. He felt a protective air come over him, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching. Tommy clapped a hand on Joel’s arm,
“He’s just drunk, Joel. She can handle hers-“ but Joel ripped his arm away and began to weave his way through the patrons to where you and Jim stood, and Tommy shook his head.
“Christ.” Tommy muttered, and dragged a hand down his face. He knew better than to sway Joel after he set his mind on something.
And he certainly couldn’t stop him when it came to protecting you.
“… he can share. I’d like to have a round with you, show you how a real man can treat you-“ Jim said, but Joel rounded on him quickly.
“What did you say?” Joel hissed, staring daggers into Jim’s back. Jim swiveled to face Joel, and Joel could see him sway a bit. Drunk or not, he had no right to speak to you that way.
“Fuck off, Miller. You can have her back when I’m through-“
At that, Joel had enough. He swung wide, his fist collided with Jim’s face with a sickening crunch. The crowd reacted with scattered gasps and flinches. Jim was down with one blow, and fell to the floor, his nose beginning to bleed.
“Jesus Christ, Miller! You…” He cried, and held his nose with a shaky hand. Joel bent down, and grabbed him by the collar.
“You keep your mouth shut around her, you understand? Or I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to your fuckin’ dog.” He said, and raised his hand to give him another blow but a hand grabbed his arm. He was about to jerk away, thinking it was Tommy, but-
“Joel. Stop.”
Your commanding voice hung in the air, and Joel froze. He let go of Jim after a few tense seconds, and Jim fell back onto the floor. Standing straight, your hand eased up on his arm and he felt his breathing begin to even out. You still held onto him, and pulled at his sleeve to get him to walk away. He followed dutifully, and exited the bar with you while others watched apprehensively. 
“Why did you do that?” 
“I-“
“Joel. That’s not-“
“He was just so, so disgusting, and I couldn’t-“
You and Joel stood outside of the bar, the conversation tense following the events from inside. Joel’s hand continued to shake at his side, both from adrenaline and a dull throbbing pain, his ears still slightly ringing.
“He said… awful things. I couldn’t let him get away with that.” Joel said, and your eyes softened. You picked up his hand that he had knocked Jim with, and you could already see the redness forming there. Joel sucked in a breath quickly, and your eyes met his for a moment, thinking he was in pain. But, he was feeling something far from pain. Far, far from it.
“People have been talking.” You said, and Joel frowned. 
“They’ve been saying, er… that we have a rather intimate relationship.” You explained, and Joel gulped. While he would want that more than anything, laying accusations of that nature about you was enough to infuriate him. You held his hand within your own, and shook your head.
“But, It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what they say. I say, screw it, let them think what they want.” You said flippantly, waving a hand to the side. “It’s not their business, anyway-“
You shook your head vehemently. You were upset that people would talk about Joel like that, after all he’s done for them. You knew it was all out of jealousy, and that it was all talk. It still stung, though.
Joel looked so serious, and normally you would have laughed and pointed it out. But you were so upset that you just couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Besides, they… Their talk is warranted. I see how it looks, but it has nothing to do with them. Only us. Just us.” You said. Joel then took your hand in his with a much more firm grip, even if his knuckles were sore. You watched him for what felt like minutes. Well, there was no going back now. 
“I just… I care about you, Joel. A lot. More than- more than I can say. I like hanging out with you, I like seeing you smile, I like hearing your, rather rare, laugh. I want to hear what you have to say, I want to sit with you in silence and drink copious amounts of coffee. I-“ you rambled, and finally shut yourself up for a moment, taking a deep breath as you closed your eyes. 
“I just, I want more. I want to be with you. Okay?” You said, forcing the words out, and you looked up at him. He was watching you with those intense brown eyes in silence. You thought he was going to reject it, passing it by, as his grip loosened on your hand. But, his grip became soft, and he lifted your hand to his lips. He kissed your knuckles softly, and his honeyed brown eyes watched you with… adoration.
“Darlin’, you have no idea how much you mean to me.” He said, his lips against your skin. He looked down at you, his eyes soft and sweet like a warm glass of whiskey. He raised a hand to bring his thumb against your cheek.
“I can’t give… I can’t give you much. I ain’t too good at grand, romantic gestures. I just have myself, it’s all I have to offer. You’re too good for me, and you deserve someone who can give you everything you could ask for, give you the world-“
“Joel,” You said, your eyes looking between his own. You your head, 
“I don’t want the world. I want you.” 
You leaned into his touch, and he let go of your hand to put a hand on your waist and closed the distance between you. 
And he kissed you. He kissed you the way he’s always wanted to- gently, cautiously, but full of hope and heart. 
You closed your eyes immediately on impact, and returned the kiss with a gentle push. You raised your hand to press against his bearded cheek, his hair tickling your fingertips. He smelled of wood and leather, and a strong smell that you knew was just Joel. He was everything you wanted, and more. 
You weren’t sure who pulled away first, but you both needed air. Joel leaned his forehead against yours, and his thumb still gently caressed your cheek. You were too good for him, and he knew that. He didn’t deserve anyone by the likes of you. 
And yet, here you were, wrapped up in his arms and returning his kiss. It was something he had only ever dreamed of, only ever thought about late at night.
But now, it was reality.
“Let’s get a cup of coffee. ‘S Fuckin’ cold out here.” Joel laughed, and you grinned, taking his hand and holding it tightly. You lead the way, through the snow and cold air, but you both felt warm from head to toe.
~*~*~
“Why not?”
“I said no.” Joel said firmly. 
“Well, you look like a sad, old, shaggy dog.” Ellie said, and eyed the scissors that sat on the bathroom counter next to Joel. Joel looked at her with a raised eyebrow,
“That’s why I’m going to cut it.” he replied. He was feeling a bit self conscious about his hair lately. It was long, overgrown, and curling at the ends. You didn’t say anything about it, but he felt… scraggly.
He kept his beard in good shape. That was easy. But, his hair was a different story. He ran a hand through it, and sighed. He was in a battle with himself. He needed to at least cut the back, but he had no way to look at it or judge how much he should cut. 
The door opened and you stepped into the Miller household, calling out your presence. You had been asked to come by after work for some kind of soup Joel attempted. You were practically living in Joel’s house at this point, though you still slept in your own house. It was all about taking it easy, you both agreed. It had only been a few weeks since your kiss, and you and Joel were still learning how to dance around a significant other again. But, it was falling into a rhythm, one that comforted you both.
Ellie’s eyes shifted and stuck her head out the doorway,
“In here!” she called, and you stepped into the way of the downstairs bathroom, assessing the scene. Joel glanced at you before frowning at the scissors.
“‘Sup.” Ellie greeted, and you grinned.
“‘Sup, yourself. What’s going on?” You questioned, a bit of snow still in your hair, and you rubbed your arms to bring warmth to them again. When neither spoke, you cocked up an eyebrow and met Ellie’s gaze. 
Ellie grew a mischievous glint in her eyes, and she leaned back on her heels, shoving her hands in her pockets.
“Why don’t you get your girlfriend to do it?” Ellie questioned, and Joel’s eyes shot to her, red flaring up his face. You two hadn’t discussed the intricacies of your relationship, much less as to what label you would have. Joel cleared his throat and leaned his hip against the counter, crossing his arms to try to play it off. Ellie’s grin was apparent, and you stood at the bathroom threshold next to Ellie. 
Your eyes cast down to the scissors, and it dawned on you. 
“Somebody needs a haircut?” You offered, and Joel looked over at you, his eyes softening. He half shrugged, dragging a hand down his beard.
“Was just thinkin’ about it.” He said, and Ellie looked over at you with an exasperated look.
“He was just about to start until I came in. I offered, but-“
“You ain’t comin’ near me with any sharp objects, kid.” He said, his eyes narrowing at her. Ellie put her hands up in defense, and looked at you.
“See what I mean?”
“I’ll take it from here.” You said, and walked into the batroom and rolled up your sleeves. Joel leaned away slightly,
“You done this before?” He questioned, knowing better than to doubt you. But, this was his head you were talking about, and he didn’t want to look like a fool.
“Yeah. Used to cut hair all the time. I’m not a high end stylist but I get the job done. Now, ge over theret.” You said, picking up the scissors and gesturing for Joel to walk further into the bathroom. He sighed and did as he was told (because who was he to deny you?) and sat on the edge of the tub as you instructed. Ellie watched, that grin still plastered on her face, as she leaned against the doorway. 
“Take off your flannel, I don’t wanna get hair everywhere.” You said. Joel was wearing a t- shirt under his flannel, but it still felt… intimate. 
But, he undid the buttons and handed it off to you. You folded it and set it on the bathroom sink, and picked up the comb that lay not too far away. You turned to Joel and angled his head to the side and began to snip away slowly. Ellie shifted behind you, and shook her head.
“God, this is stressing me out. Don’t cut off his ears, okay?” Ellie said, and waved before leaving towards the living room. You grinned as you worked at Joel’s hair, using the comb as a line to cut around.
“I think that shows she cares. In her own way.” You laughed, and Joel rolled her eyes.
“She’s still a pain in my ass. And nosy as hell, apparently-” He said, and you heard Ellie shout from the living room,
“I am literally right here!” 
You shook your head and continued to cut. Joel sat still as stone, and your eyebrows began to furrow in concentration as you moved all around him. Joel felt more and more relaxed, with your presence so near and the sound of snip snip snip softly in his ear. You moved to the front side, and he held out a hand to place on your waist as if to keep you anchored in the spot. You smiled lightly, reveling in the touch as you continued to cut.
Joel’s hand was warm and steady on your hip, and he began to rub light circles into your side over your shirt. You tilted your head to the side; and he glanced up at you.
“You look so serious.” He said, and you glanced at him with an amused smirk.
“Hey. That’s my line.” You laughed.
“Is it that bad?”
“I’m just trying my damndest to not mess it up, baby.” You said, and moved to chop at the back. You definitely didn’t want your man to have a mullet, knowing the look didn’t really look good on anyone.
“I appreciate that.” Joel said, and meant it. He moved his head this way and that as you adjusted him, and then you finally stood straight. His hand stayed at your side, and he looked up at you.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” He said, and you smile, running the comb and then your hand through the top of his head.
“Anytime.” You said, your hand trailing down his hair to his neck, then to his cheek. He leaned into your touch instinctively, and your thumb brushed against his beard. You liked the way it felt under your fingertips, and how much he just looked and felt like a man. Your man.
It felt new to think that, but you wouldn’t say it out loud. Not yet. 
“You guys better not be getting weird in there!” Ellie called after a few beats of silence, breaking you from the intimate moment. Joel rolled his eyes and stood up, and you set the scissors to the side. He brought you close to his side for a moment and pressed a kiss to your temple. You smiled, leaning into him. 
Yes. Your man.
~*~*~
“Why don’t you spend the night?” Joel questioned as you both trudged through the snow after a shift on patrol. You turned your head to him, eyes narrowing.
“So that’s why you’ve been so quiet today.” you said, nodding in realization. Joel breathed out a huff of a chuckle, and shook his head. You could see red creeping on the tip of his ears, and knew it wasn’t just from the cold.
“Ellie’s got a birthday party to go to, said it’s gonna run late. They say it’s gonna get below freezing tonight, and I don’t want you to have to walk home in that-”
“Okay.” 
He cleared his throat, and nodded, his gaze moved down to the snow to make sure he didn’t step on anything that would give him trouble. You grinned, and shook your head at his bashfulness. He really was the perfect gentleman- never overstepping or forcing himself, respecting boundaries and even coming up with some of his own. He really was exercising the “taking it slow” rule, too. 
Maybe tonight could change that. 
When you parted ways, more work waited for you both. With a squeeze of hands and looks of longing, you both made a silent promise to meet up that night. 
Joel had managed to get to the house earlier, and began preparing. He had gotten some more soup from the cafeteria to heat up and for you to share. He had coffee at the ready, and his house was as clean as he could make it. After putting Ellie to work before she could escape, she later remarked that “the house had never been so clean,” and “she must be pretty important for you to dust the cabinets.”
She may not have said it outright, but she knew Joel cared for you. Despite their sometimes strained relationship, she was happy he wasn’t completely alone anymore. She could see this heaviness on his shoulders lift from time to time, that line between his eyebrows disappear when he saw you. Ellie couldn’t even tease him about it for much longer, as she had her own budding relationship that Joel would eventually find out about. Then the tables would turn and she would get the incessant teasing. 
“Hey,” she said, turning before she left to see Joel sweeping the kitchen one last time. He looked up, cocking an eyebrow. “Don’t fuck this up.” she said, giving him a grin. The door shut behind her, and he shook his head. 
But, he agreed with her. 
~*~*~
The sun had set all too soon, and he waited anxiously for your arrival. He couldn’t sit still, and fiddled with the wood trinkets he had whittled, and looked through his sad excuse of a record collection. He could feel nervousness creeping under his skin, around his heart. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe he was moving too fast. What were you thinking? Did you think that he was just looking to get some when he asked you to stay? He knew that wasn’t the case on his part, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. If anything, he could always take the couch-
A knock on the door sounded, and he nearly gave himself whiplash turning around and heading to the door. When he opened it, you stood with a mason jar in hand, your familiar green jacket pulled around you. Snow flurries dotted the background of where you stood, and Joel couldn’t help but smile. 
What was he worried about again?
You stepped in, and when the door shut, you leaned up and gave him a light kiss. He leaned into it, about to raise his hand to touch your face when you pressed something into it instead. He looked down at it, and then to you with a cocked eyebrow.
“Moonshine?”
“Correct. Just a little. Keith said that’s all it takes.” you laughed, and Joel shook his head with a smile. He helped you out of your jacket, and you bent down to remove your boots as Joel walked to the kitchen. He had a small pot to heat up the soup over the fire, and carried that carefully after putting the moonshine down. You walked to the couch as Joel set the pot over the fire, and felt the warmth of Joel’s house seep into your bones. You tugged at the sleeves of your blouse, and Joel noted he hadn’t seen it before as he sat down next to you. It was nice- a little form fitting, beige with some kind of subtle floral pattern. 
“Somebody dressed up.” Joel chuckled, and you rolled your eyes. You nudged his shoulder lightly as you settled into the couch, Joel’s arm moving instinctively around the back of the couch to welcome you into his side. 
“Figured i’d try at least a little.” you said, and Joel pressed a kiss to your temple gently.
“I like it.” he said quietly, and you leaned your head onto his shoulder, the crackling of the fire and the wind outside being the only music you two listened to.
“Joel?” you questioned, and Joel hummed in response, leaning his head against yours. If he could be stuck in a snowglobe, trapped in time, it would be this moment. “Tell me a story.” 
He smiled, and sighed, lifting his head and looking around, eyes narrowed.
“Alright, I got one. It’s dumb, but it was funny.” he said, trying to recall the details of the movie in question. It had been years, though. “I’ve seen it god knows how many times. It was Sarah’s favorite-” he said, but abruptly stopped. You stilled for a moment, and pondered what to say next. Joel had mentioned his daughter a few times in passing. Never for too long, but you had pieced this much together- she was young, died on outbreak day, and Joel couldn’t save her. 
You could relate- you had lost your parents in quick succession after the outbreak, leaving you with strangers to survive. Losing your husband a year ago, the last of the familiarity you knew. You had never known true stability… Until now.
“She… she was a good kid-” Joel said, and you lifted your head and could see a misty look in his eyes. You pressed a hand to his cheek, grounding him back to reality.
“With you raising her, she must have been lovely. They learn the best from you, you know.” you said, and smiled gently. Joel’s eyes moved downwards, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek gently. You didn’t want to press it, knowing it was a sensitive subject for him. But, with a shaky breath, he raised his eyes to the ceiling, like he was looking for something. A reason, a comfort, something.
But, his eyes moved back to you. Though weak, he smiled. You were both a reason and a comfort. Two things he needed to finally break the ice on his first daughter. 
“She loved reading. Made me read her all sorts of stuff. She knew how to read before other kids her age. I… I’m proud of her. What she did, when she was still here.” he said, swallowing. You nodded, your hand never straying far from him as it sunk from his face to take his free hand. 
“She’s still here, Joel. You carry her wherever you go. Memories are good for that- keeping people alive, even when they’re not here next to us.” You said quietly, and Joel’s smile strengthened a little bit more. He nodded, exhaling deeply and shifted on the couch to get a little more comfortable.
“I remember I took her to the library every week, ever since she was little. She loved to walk around the aisles, didn’t care much for the play area. She would come with a stack of books this high,” Joel said, and raised his hand over his knee, and you giggled. “Insisted she would read every single one. And she did.” 
~*~*~
When dinner was all said and done, you both nursed your second glass of moonshine, the conversation a bit more light. You recounted some funny stories from working around the commune, and Joel would laugh in amusement, the corners of his eyes crinkling. You loved that sight, and couldn’t help but grin every time. 
“No, really! She said she was going to march straight to his house and give him a piece of mind. I mean, I'd do the same thing- you can’t let that shit slide.” You said, and Joel just continued laughing. You rolled your eyes, nudging his leg with your toe. The moonshine was definitely getting to you two. You had a fleeting thought to either thank Keith later or wallop him over the head. This shit was strong.
“Please, darlin’, have mercy on me.” he said, his cheeks rosy with the effects of the alcohol, a hand pressed against his aching stomach from laughing so much. You grinned, happy to see him like this. So free, so comfortable, able to laugh and actually mean it. You leaned forward and took the nearly empty glass from him. He made a noise of protest but didn’t move to stop you as you set your empty glasses on the coffee table in front of you. You nearly fell over and Joel caught you before you could tumble to the floor, both of you giggling for no damn reason. Joel pulled you up, and you were nearly nose to nose, sitting up on your knees next to him. 
Your breath hitched in your throat, and you suddenly felt hot. You couldn’t tell if it was actually sweat collecting down your back or if it was just a feeling. Your hand rested on Joel’s chest, and your laughter subsided, your gazes on each other turning heavy. Your hand rested on his chest, and Joel’s brown eyes kept moving back and forth to your own. You raised a hand to press against his cheek and before you even had the notion to lean in, he crashed his lips onto yours. The force knocked you back a bit, but you recovered and kissed back, eyes falling shut. Joel hummed against your lips, and your eyebrows knit together in want. In a fit of passion, you swung your leg over his thighs and rested on his lap. This drew a real, true groan from Joel, his hands settling on your hips and gripping them like a vice. You tilted your head down, capturing his lips in a deep kiss that was enough to make your head spin. 
Joel began to move your hips in his grasp, and you could feel a tightening of his jeans beneath you. You chased the feeling, beginning to grind against him. You pulled back to only dive into his neck, kissing the column and then to the side, moving to the spot under his ear. A low grumble came from his chest, tilting his head back to revel in your kisses. You began to suck on the spot, your hand moving from his chest to palm at his jeans. Joel’s hand abruptly moved from your hip to your shoulder, pushing you back just a bit before you came up voluntarily. 
Looking at Joel with wide, lust-blown eyes, you suddenly felt a wave of doubt cross you. Did you overstep? Was this too much? 
“Darlin’,” he began, his chest rising and falling, his dark brown eyes nearly black from what you’ve done to him. He cupped your cheek gently, “If we’re gonna do it, we’re gonna do it right. Somewhere more comfortable for the both of us.”
Your doubts were dashed away like a bolt of lightning, a smile rising to your face and you kissed him deeply. Shuffling off of him clumsily and standing up, you extended your hand to pull him off the couch. He began to lead you to the bedroom up the stairs, a giddy feeling in his chest. When the door swung open, he didn’t give much time to linger on the contents of his room, turning to you and pulling you to his chest and pressed a hot kiss to your lips. 
You didn’t know Joel could be so passionate, but you were not complaining. You sighed against his lips, and Joel began to back up until the back of his knees hit the bed. You pushed him and he slowly sat down, breaking away from the kiss to look up at you as you stood over him. His hand reached out and settled on your waist, and you just had to take a second and admire him. Mouth swollen and pink from the kisses, eyes filled with a healthy mixture of lust and adoration, his chest rising and falling to show his anticipation. You could only wonder what you looked like at that moment. Probably a wild and lustful thing, dripping with anticipation. 
You began to sink to your knees, but Joel was quick to pull you up with a gentleness and pecked you on the lips.
“Next time.” he mumbled and you began to giggle, feeling the corners of his lips quirk up. You pulled away, shoulders still shaking from your giggles, butterflies swarming in your stomach.
“Oh yeah? Next time?”
“Of course.” Joel said, as if it was clear as day. You grinned and moved to kiss him but he took you by the waist and turned you to lay on the bed with you on your back. You bounced on the old springs, and grinned up at Joel, hand moving to his shoulder as he leaned down and kissed you with fervor. Your other hand moved to his flannel, struggling to undo the buttons one-handed and had to have your other hand join in. Joel’s hand decided to busy themselves with the button of your jeans, sliding the zipper down. Just as you were about to undo the final button, he pulled away and undid it himself, pulling the flannel off and discarding it somewhere behind him. You pouted at the sight of the undershirt, and he laughed at your expression, pulling it off and threw it back to join his flannel. Suddenly his self-consciousness about being shirtless was left at the door, along with all of your doubts and worries. 
You sucked in a breath, and had dreamed of this sight. You knew he was solid, broad, but this was a sight to behold. He was all smooth, freckled, tanned skin, his stomach a little pudgy but meaning it was well loved. It was all you had imagined, and a little more. 
“... darlin’? Did you hear me? Lift your hips for me.” he said, bringing you back to reality, and you obeyed as quickly as you could to catch up with him. He pulled your jeans down, and you felt the cool air settle on your skin and realized he took your underwear down too. You whined in anticipation and he paused just as your jeans hit the ground. He looked up at you, a silent question in his eyes and you gave him a strained smile and a subtle nod. He settled on the floor, a hand tracing down your torso to your stomach, then pelvis. He kissed your knees, then your thighs and eased them open gently. 
“Jesus,” he murmured as he looked down at your glistening cunt, and you lifted yourself up onto your elbows in a sudden movement to capture his reaction. “You’re fucking perfect.” 
With little preamble, he leaned his head down and you lost the support of your arms as you fell back when you felt his tongue give a firm swipe up your folds. Your hands gripped the sheets out of pure bliss. If this is what you felt like now, what was in store for you next?
Joel’s lips pressed to your clit which was already throbbing with need, and your eyebrows knit together as he began to suck on it gently. Your hand itched to thread through his hair, and he did another swipe up and down your cunt before sliding his tongue inside. You both let out a chorus of groans and gasps, your back arching off the bed and his hand moved to press against your lower stomach to keep you in place. He repeated a cycle of licks, kisses, and sucking of your clit that made you see stars. Your hand eventually found the back of his head, and you really didn’t have to do anything as he pressed himself more into your cunt, his nose swiping over your clit as his mouth worked in and out of you. 
“Joel-” you whined, feeling the sensation of a tightening in your stomach, your lower back alight with heat. He must feel you were close, as you gasped when two fingers entered you, joining Joel’s mouth as he worked you. “Fuck,” you sighed, trying to turn your head to look down at him. But, it had been so long since you had had a proper orgasm not by your own hand that all you could do was lay back and take it. 
“Doin’ so good for me, baby.” he murmured, the words of praise making you exhale sharply before sucking in another breath at a strong suck to your clit. His fingers worked in and out, the sounds of squelching from your wet cunt filling the room. Your body began to wind up, your stomach flexing under his hand that still rested there. 
“That’s it. Come for me, darlin’.” he said, not sure if he was actually talking to you or your body to coax you into an orgasm. He then curled his fingers inside you and you tightened around them, body trembling and you let out a whine that turned into a moan, your hand holding onto his hair as the other gripped the sheets for dear life. Your body flooded with endorphins, and you felt a flooding sensation down south as well. Joel pulled out his fingers, lapping up your release with obscene noises. With a few swipes of his tongue and a few swirls around your clit, you had come down gently, eyes closed as black and white danced behind your eyelids.
Feeling him shift, you opened your eyes and he coaxed you into pulling off your shirt and unclasping your bra. Your body felt weightless but heavy all at the same time, but you found the strength to move back on the bed with trembling limbs from your orgasm. Joel undid his jeans and pushed them down before climbing on top of you. You looked down and… god. He was impressive. 
He kissed you deeply, bringing you out of your thoughts abruptly once more, tasting yourself on his tongue. He rested a hand on your waist, his hips instinctively grinding against your own and you shivered at the touch, winding a hand through his hair to keep him close. Your hand found his cock and you gave it a few encouraging pumps, finding he was rock solid. 
“Shit, sweetheart, if you do that- I’m not gonna last-” he groaned, and you smirked against his lips and pressed him against your folds. Even feeling the head of his cock was enough to send you spiraling and your grip on him loosened. But, he was quick to take it and align himself, mouth moving in tandem with yours. He gave a few swipes of his tip and just when you were about to beg, he slid himself inside, bit by agonizing bit. You sucked in a breath as Joel exhaled with a soft moan, your mouths open and hovering between each other. Your hand moved from his hair to his cheek, and he pressed his forehead against yours as he began to rock his hips. 
You were in bliss. It was such an intimate, soft moment as he took his time moving in and out of you. A hand loosening on your waist, his hand explored the expanse of your side, up and down as the other supported his weight next to your head. 
“Joel…” you whispered, your other arm abandoning the sheets and curled around his back to keep him close. He rocked back and forth and hit your cervix, once, twice, three times until it became a habit. Your body began to tense again, and he groaned into your neck, your name escaping him with a hiss. He kissed your neck, his hips moving a bit faster, hitting that spot with more force. Your toes began to curl as your legs wrapped around his waist, and he began to stiffen, but didn’t let up his pace.
“Come on, give me another one.” he murmured against your skin, and your cunt twitched at the encouragement, causing him to moan again. You didn’t think he would be this vocal during sex, but god you were loving every bit of it. 
“Please, Joel- I wanna-” you whined, and he reached down between you two and began to rub circles on your clit to further encourage you. Your lips parted, eyebrows scrunching up. That’s all it took for you to come undone the second time that night, tightening around him and encouraging his own release. His hips stuttered, giving about three more languid thrusts. He then quickly moved, sitting up slightly as he pulled out and pumped his cock, his sticky release painting your pelvis and stomach with white. 
“Fuck.” you whispered, and grinned, Joel panting as he watched his work, and then moved his eyes to you. You couldn’t want to taste that coming down your throat. But, next time.
He leaned down, uncaring that he smeared his release between you as he kissed you deeply. You couldn’t find the strength to meet him halfway, but raised a hand to press against his face to keep him there for a moment. 
He pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours and mumbled a “be right back,” moving to go down the hall to the bathroom and he came back with a damp washcloth, wiping himself and you down. He set it to the side, and joined you on the bed. His arm moved over your torso, and he propped himself up to look at you with pure adoration in his eyes.
“So… you’ll still stay?” he questioned, his voice soft, questioning. But, you already knew your answer, and gave him a smile, and a gentle nod. 
~*~*~
Somewhere in the night, you had to borrow some of Joel’s clothes. The cold draft in the room was a bit more tolerable with a t-shirt and sleep pants on. Luckily Joel had enough for the both of you.
The sunlight peeked through the faded curtains, signaling morning had come. You lay on your side, Joel’s body pressed against your back, an arm around your waist. Your eyes opened slightly, still thick with sleep, but taking in your surroundings. Joel’s room was simple, but cozy. The sunlight filtering in was warming up the area, and you held onto the pillow just a bit tighter, pressing back against Joel to savor his warmth. 
When you did, Joel let out a hum, and you felt a kiss on your shoulder, then another. And another.
“Was wonderin’ when you’d wake up.” Joel chuckled, and gave your hip a squeeze. You grinned, turning in his arms and laid on your back, looking over at him. 
“Well, having three rounds was enough to knock me the hell out.” you laughed. You really didn’t know how Joel could keep up with the age he was at. But, he was insatiable, like a horny frat boy at a sorority party. And you weren’t complaining.
“Mm. You sound so upset.” he chuckled and leaned over, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then sitting up a bit to kiss your lips. Now that this particular moment in your relationship had happened, Joel seemed a bit less nervous and a bit more giving. You could only wonder what the future had in store. 
“Did Ellie come home?” you suddenly questioned, and Joel nodded, his hand running up and down your side, pulling you close.
“She did. Don’t worry.” he said, pressing a kiss to your neck. You wanted to laugh at that- Joel Miller telling you not to worry? That was yet another first.
You sat in silence, the sun growing more and more bright as it rose in the sky. It gave the room a very warm, inviting, and comforting tone. You sighed as Joel leaned his head into your neck, his scent enveloping you. Turning your head to press your nose to his forehead, he gave her shoulder another kiss, then your neck. 
“So, does this mean I can hold your hand around town now?” Joel mumbled, and you couldn’t help but grin like a kid on Christmas.
“Only if I can tell people about my absolute hunk of a man.” you teased, and Joel lifted his head at that, eyebrows furrowing.
“I’m a what?” he asked, though it was in disbelief and not confusion.
“Don’t worry about it,” you laughed, and raised a hand to card through his unruly brown and silver locks. He gazed down at you, his brown eyes looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered now. You felt that familiar twist in your lower stomach, and smiled. “You’re my man, that’s all that matters.”
Joel nodded, and kissed your lips again,
“And you’re my girl?” he questioned genuinely against your lips. The sentiment and hopeful tone eased any tension that was left in your body. Your hand tightened in his hair just enough to apply pressure and deepen the kiss, your body shifting and calling for his own. And just as sure as the sun rises, his body met yours halfway, answering that call.
“I am. I wouldn’t want to be anything else.” you murmured, and you could feel Joel’s smile on your lips, humming in delight. Feeling like a couple of lovesick teenagers in a world that had gone to hell, you stayed in each other’s embrace as the sun rose high in the sky. 
Daylight has never looked so beautiful.
THE END.
191 notes · View notes
covenofagatha · 18 hours ago
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Hi! I’m new here! Idk if you are taking requests rn but umm, do you think maybe you could write the filthiest smut where Agatha is obsessed with readers pussy and after she pulls out she like holds her open just to watch her convulse and throb and watch everything seep out and she just talks about how perfect her pussy is? And then maybe reader has a biiiiiig thing for Agatha’s titties and can’t get enough of them in her mouth and falls asleep sucking on them for comfort? If not it’s okay I totally get it. Your fics do more for me than any other fics I’ve read 🙈
This was a hot request tbh so thank you! Hope it's as filthy as you wanted it to be
Title is Lana Del Rey song because coming up with titles are the bane of my existence and it kind of works
Cherry Cola
Agatha comes home after being away on a work trip for a week and you two have some catching up to do
Word count: 2400
Warnings: porn, literally pure filth and smut, girl penis agatha, cum fixation, fingering, sex, mommy kink, nipple fixation, slight nursing kink, so much dirty talk, think this is all
You’ve been perpetually horny for a week straight and it’s all your girlfriend’s fault. 
She left on Sunday for a work trip and as she kissed you goodbye, told you that, under no circumstances at all, were you allowed to touch yourself until she was back on Saturday. 
You thought it wouldn’t be that much of a challenge, since she wouldn’t be here constantly turning you on. 
And then the texts started. The photos. The videos. 
Messages like I wanna fuck you so bad and Need to fill you with my cum and watch it leak out of you and God I miss your tight pretty pink pussy so much filled your phone and she would send accompanying pictures and recordings of her hard and leaking cock or of the mess she made after she came. 
Your particular favorite was a video of her furiously stroking her cock by the hotel window and splattering her cum all over it. Her grunts are still ingrained in your mind. 
After a week of those, you were slowly going out of your mind, constantly having to change your underwear, but never once touching yourself. 
Even though it was literal torture. 
But it’s finally Saturday, and you are vibrating with need while you wait for Agatha to come home. She hasn’t told you when she’ll get there, so you pace restlessly around the kitchen for most of the day, trying and failing to distract yourself with something. 
You’ve never been so turned on in your life, and Agatha has never let you go this long without an orgasm. 
And then finally, finally, you hear the key turning in the lock and the front door opening. 
Agatha barely makes it into the foyer before you pounce, slamming her back against the wall and kissing her. You’re already wet just from that when she sweeps her tongue into your mouth and switches positions to pin your arms up. 
“Did you miss me, baby?” She asks amusedly, tugging your bottom lip between her teeth. 
“So much, Aggie,” you say, squirming against her restraint. You just need to feel her against you. 
She tightens her grip with a smirk and looks you up and down in your desperate state. “Were you a good girl while mommy was gone?” 
You nod and groan. “I didn’t touch myself, no thanks to what you sent. You were killing me.” 
“So good for me, doll. You’ll do anything I say, won’t you? You want my cock inside you?” 
You bite your lip, eyes dropping to the tent in her pants. All you can think about is having her inside you. It’s not a want anymore, it’s a completely all-consuming need. 
She grabs your chin in her hand and roughly tilts you up to make eye contact. “Use your words, baby. Tell mommy what you want.” 
You swallow thickly, desire holding your brain hostage. “I want you,” you rasp and she raises an eyebrow, urging you on. Her fingers slide down to your throat as a warning. “I want your cock inside me. I want to feel you throbbing and twitching because of me and I want you to fill me up like only you can. Fill up my perfect pussy that belongs to you. Feel you drip out of me cause I love it when you cum inside me.” 
You’ve been with Agatha long enough to know exactly what she loves to hear. And she loves to hear filthy, explicit details, especially about your cunt. Which you loved to provide.
Before her, you had never really been one to voice your desires. It made you feel embarrassed, almost. 
But with Agatha, she wants to hear every single dirty thing on your mind. It had taken some getting used to at first, but when you realized what to say, and the effect it had on both of you, you couldn’t believe you’d never done it before. 
Agatha moans at your words and drags you in for a hot kiss, her tongue moving against yours and staking her claim of your mouth. It’s like she’s trying to invade your body through your lips and you let her. 
The hand around your throat slides down your stomach and dips under the waistband of your pants and you whimper when she touches you over your underwear. 
“God, have you been this soaked the entire week?” She asks with a taunting laugh and your cheeks flush. 
But she isn’t wrong. “I went through so many pairs of underwear,” you admit quietly and her smirk gets even bigger. 
“Well, we better do something about that, don’t you think?” 
“Please, mommy, need you to fuck me,” you beg and she grabs your hand and drags you up the stairs and to the bedroom. The ache inside you has grown into a gaping cavern. 
Agatha puts you onto the bed and makes quick work of unbuttoning her shirt and unclasping her bra. She shimmies off her pants and you do the same, throwing your clothes somewhere across the room. 
Your eyes immediately fall to your girlfriend’s breasts. 
You may or may not have a huge thing about them. 
They’re perky and so soft and there’s something about having her nipple in your mouth that makes you feel at peace with the world. 
She sees you looking. “Want to suck on mommy?” 
The question makes even more heat flare through you but you only have one thing on your mind right now. 
Her cock. 
Which is harder than a rock, precum dripping off it, and standing at attention pointing right toward you.
You shake your head. “Maybe later, just want you inside me now.” 
She growls and crawls on the bed to you, grabbing your legs and yanking so you’re flat on your back. You gasp, waiting for her to push into you, but instead you feel her fingers stroking through your folds. 
“God, I’ve missed your perfect pussy,” she sighs, teasing at your entrance. Your hips roll to try to get her inside, but she collects your wetness and circles your clit with it. 
“Mommy,” you whine, needier than ever. 
She shushes you. “I know, sweetheart, but be a good girl and let mommy play with you for a bit. I’ve missed your pretty pink cunt so much this past week.” 
You bite your lip but noises still slip out as she fucks two fingers into easily and twists them. She scissors them to stretch you out, grinning when your back arches off the bed. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight and wet and warm around me,” she says, curling her fingers just right. “Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock. You always feel so good squeezing around me, just need to fill you up and watch mommy’s love drip out of you.”
You keen at the visual, a light sheen breaking out over your body. She’s still fucking you with her fingers and you’re panting, babbling for more. 
“Are you ready for my cock?” She asks and you immediately whimper, making her laugh. 
“Please, mommy, need you to fuck me,” you say, your head spinning with want. 
“What do you want?” She gets into position, grabbing her cock and stroking it, spreading her precum up and down her length. You get sidetracked watching her hips jerk forward and you moan loudly when she leans down to rub her tip against your clit. 
Your head twists to the side as she begins to move herself up and down, coating her cock with your wetness, each time coming back up to move around your clit. Agatha lets out little gasps at the feeling and it’s only doing more to spur you on. 
“Aggie, please, please, please,” you cry, and she pushes just the tip in. You squirm to try and get more of her in you, but she pauses and just admires the sight. 
“Fuck, baby doll, you look so nice like this. Might have to take some pictures of my cock stretching you out for the next time I have to go away for so long,” she says and you clench around her. She, of course, notices and smirks. “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 
“Anything you want, mommy, just please fuck me!” 
She tuts at your impatience, but pushes in and bottoms out nonetheless. Your mouth opens at the not unpleasant stretch but nothing comes out and Agatha moans at the feeling of your walls around her again. Her hands scramble for purchase on your hips so she’s able to angle you up and she can slide in deeper. 
“Fuck,” she swears in a low voice and you think you get wetter. Hearing her so affected by you is always a massive turn-on. She starts slowly rutting into you, never pulling out very much like it would be a pain to leave your cunt. “Been too long, I missed this. You feel so good stretched around me.” 
She positions herself over you so she can kiss you as she begins to move in and out of you more. You have to continuously break away from her mouth though because she keeps hitting that perfect spongy spot inside you like always and it feels too good. 
Your head drops back against the pillow beneath you and your eyes roll back in your head from the way she’s fucking you. 
Agatha always knows exactly what you need and she always gives it to you. And based on the way she’s breathing, she’s getting exactly what she needs, too. 
You become distracted by the movement of her breasts with every push and you can’t help yourself from grabbing them with your hands. When you brush over her nipples, you can feel her pulse inside you and her rhythm stutters for a moment. 
“There you go, baby, play with mommy’s boobs,” she mutters, putting more effort into regaining her speed than talking loudly. But her mouth is right next to your ear so you hear her clearly. You roll her nipples between your fingers, tugging whenever she gives you a particularly rough thrust. 
You can feel her throbbing inside you and you know she’s getting close. Which is perfect, because you are, too. You know she can feel you clenching when she deliciously drags her cock against your walls and tiny noises from both of you fill the air. 
“Fuck, baby, mommy’s going to cum in your pussy,” she groans, her drives becoming shorter and shallower. You reach down to rub at your clit to push yourself over the finish line but she slaps your hand away and her thumb takes its place.
You’re so close. 
“Need you to cum inside me, need to feel it,” you blather and her whole body stiffens and her breathing gets tighter. She goes silent for a moment before letting out a long moan, and you feel her throb inside you before a warmth spreads. 
Her cum inside you triggers your orgasm and you tip off the edge of the precipice and pleasure explodes through your body. Cumming for the first time in a week is like dying and going to heaven, only to be revived by an angel. 
The moment you come down, Agatha pulls out and quickly moves down your body. 
This is her favorite part. 
She maneuvers your legs so they’re bent with your feet on the bed and spreads your cunt lips open with her fingers. You gasp when you feel her cum start to ooze out and Agatha’s nails dig into your thigh at the sight. 
“God, baby, look at that,” she says in awe. She collects it on two fingers and holds it up so you can see. Your lips part involuntarily and she reaches back down to wrap her hand around her cock and start lightly stroking. 
Your throat suddenly feels dry at the image of Agatha doing that and you lightly cough. 
A glob of her cum splatters out of you and Agatha groans lustfully, hips lurching forward. 
“Your fucking pussy,” she says. “So fucking perfect and pretty for me. I fucking love watching my cum seep out of you after I ruin you.” 
You can’t help but moan when she takes her hand off her cock and begins spreading her seed all over your pussy lips, absolutely smearing it everywhere like she’s marking you. 
“God, Agatha,” you whimper when she begins to rub at your clit. Your walls squeeze and it sends more of her cum trickling out, which is her plan. 
“It’s so hot seeing you covered with me,” she sighs and begins to circle you even faster, not penetrating you at all so when you start to convulse, her cum can flow right out. And it does; you can feel it leak and you can hear Agatha’s sharp breaths. 
You cum again, making a huge mess all over the bed and Agatha, who doesn’t mind one bit. 
She gets you a warm towel to clean your pussy and you lay on the bed, eyes closing, while she gets you a change of clothes. 
“How was that, baby?” She asks, helping you put on pajamas. She puts on sweats and an oversized purple flannel. 
You moan happily, immediately flocking to her side once she lays down next to you. “So good,” you answer, taking your rightful place on her shoulder with her arm wrapped around you. “Missed you so much.” 
She kisses your head and gently plays with the ends of your hair. “I missed you too, baby. Might have to take you with me next time.” 
You nod eagerly. “Hide me in your hotel room and fuck me all day and night,” you add and she chuckles. You shift a little, unsure of how to ask for what you need right now. 
But she notices your loaded silence and can put two and two together based on what you usually need after she’s been gone awhile. 
Without saying a word, she slowly starts to unbutton her flannel with one hand and you quickly help her to open it. 
“So needy for mommy,” she remarks but you can’t find it in you to care because her chest is bare to the world and so are your favorite things. 
You contentedly suck one of her nipples into your mouth and suckle on it, hand coming up to lazily play with the other one. 
Agatha moans softly when your tongue flicks around her and that’s how you fall asleep. 
With her nipple in your mouth, feeling perfectly fucked and fulfilled. 
266 notes · View notes
goldenhallas · 1 day ago
Text
1: Where in Thedas is your Rook from?
Her clan primarily roamed the forests of Ferelden
2: What is your character's alignment?
Chaotic Good, sometimes leaning a bit too much into the chaotic side
3: Race and subclass?
Dalish Elf, Veil Ranger
4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?
In the Veil Jumper camp, hanging out with Amelia and the other woman who's always with her. I like to think those three are good friends who love to gossip with each other.
5: What emotion did they usually pick?
Purple. She's a mischievous one.
6: What companion are you platonically close with?
Bellara. They're kindred spirits. They're so alike in so many ways - they're both very curious and excitable, they both have ADHD and trouble sitting still, and they both write to focus their minds. They also both have a little brother that they lost and dearly miss.
7: Romantically close with?
Davrin <3<3<3 she likes him from the moment she sets eyes on him, flirts with him a lot, and falls for him hard and fast and with all her heart. They have a lot in common when it comes to their adventurous spirits and the way Dalish clan life was never enough for them. And their senses of humour compliment each other, they have the best banter and love to tease each other.
8: Who are they suspicious of?
Lucanis, initially. He is an assassin, after all. Their friendship is the slowest to develop, especially once she chooses Minrathous over Treviso. They do eventually come to trust each other and become friends though. Ise has a fondness for Spite too. She thinks of him like a cute but naughty dog who likes to nip.
9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?
Kinda sorta not exactly? Haha. She adores the Veil Jumpers and they adore her, but they're like a dysfunctional family. She's a chaos gremlin always getting into (and often outright causing) trouble, so Strife is perpetually cross with her, but part of that is because he's scared he'll lose her to one of her shenanigans someday. Their relationship is like… misbehaving kid and exasperated dad
10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?
She plays the elven lute decently well – a guy she dated for a while taught her how. She also loves to sing but is terrible at it.
11: Weapon of choice?
Bow and arrows
12: What is their orientation?
Straight. Loves men A LOT. Dates a lot because she's a hopeless romantic and wants to find the one - and she does, in Davrin :')
13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?
She likes being in the thick of battle. It gives her a rush. She enjoys killing monsters and demons, but with people it's more complicated.
14: What hobbies does your Rook have?
She knits! It's a focusing, calming thing for her. She knits a sweater for every single party member with the letter of their first name on them - including Assan and Manfred of course! And Lucanis’ says ‘L & S’.
She also likes to write fiction, mostly adventure and romance stories.
15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?
She ADORES Antoine and Evka. They're instant besties. She also loves Strife despite their difficulties. Irelin and Amelia are dear friends. She doesn't like the First Warden much. Hates the Mayor of D'Metas crossing and leaves him to die (regrets it later because of what he turns into though)
16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?
Halla. She knits a lot of halla plushies in all different colours. Once she meets Assan she falls in love with him instantly and starts knitting griffon plushies too.
17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?
She loves it. It's the only life for her. She gets restless if she's not on the move, seeing and doing new things.
18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?
Probably wandering the forest, stewing about Strife sending her away, wondering if it's still too soon to go back yet lol. The Veil Jumpers are family, she misses them dearly when she's away.
19: How do you think they'll meet their end?
When Davrin goes on his calling, and Assan goes with him, it'll shatter her heart. Likely, she won't live long after that and will quite literally die of a broken heart.
20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?
Well... Solas’ arrogance pisses her off and she likes to poke and prod him, but she can't help seeing flashes of good in him. She senses his pain, sees the abused spirit of Wisdom peeking through and she wants to help him. But she'll still fight that motherfucker to the death if she must, her friends and loved ones come first always. In the end, she ends up saving him and reuniting him with Ghilana Lavellan, because its the most compassionate option, and she can see how good Ghilana is for him, how he melts for her, she can feel how much they love each other. And she's a sucker for romance. She definitely writes fanfic with Bell about the Halla and the Dread Wolf after.
21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?
Lightning Quiver
22: What languages is your character fluent in?
Common and Dalish
23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?
She climbs into the tree tops. She finds being above her problems helps her solve them.
24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?
Yes, she believes in the afterlife, as the Dalish do
25: What specialization best represents your Rook?
Veil Archer. She was always a talented archer even before joining the Veil Jumpers, so it was just a matter of them teaching her their techniques to enhance what she already knew
26: What animal best represents your Rook?
Red fox. That cheeky, somewhat manic look in their eyes is very Ise, as is their resourcefulness and cunning, and the bright red fur/hair of course.
But also magpies! She's very curious, obsessed with collecting shiny trinkets and baubles, and is fiercely protective of her “nest”.
27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?
Similar to how it is now, but with less darkspawn and elven gods lol. She went on adventures, veil jumping and exploring ancient ruins and collecting artifacts and shiny things, and learning about ancient elvhen culture.
28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?
She's the leader. Varric told her to look out for the team, and that's exactly what she'll do. She never wanted that kind of responsibility, but since it has fallen to her, she'll step up and do her best. She never does anything half assed.
29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?
The Wardens. She likes being part of something bigger than her, where she can adventure and fight monsters.
30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?
Appearance wise, her bright red curls. Personality wise, her fiery, compassionate heart and undying optimism – the way she never lets the cruelty of the world make her bitter or cruel and always has a crazy plan to get out of any situation. Her lust for life. The way she's so full of love and wears her heart on her sleeve.
Rook Questionnaire
inspired by @cassieuncaged's BG3 Character Development Questions but for Rook instead!
1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from?
2: What is your character's alignment?
3: Race and subclass?
4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?
5: What emotion did they usually pick?
6: What companion are you platonically close with?
7: Romantically close with?
8: Who are they suspicious of?
9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?
10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?
11: Weapon of choice?
12: What is their orientation?
13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?
14: What hobbies does your Rook have?
15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?
16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?
17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?
18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?
19: How do you think they'll meet their end?
20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?
21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?
22: What languages is your character fluent in?
23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?
24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?
25: What specialization best represents your Rook?
26: What animal best represents your Rook?
27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?
28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?
29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?
30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?
902 notes · View notes
nothomegal · 1 day ago
Text
"Kiss. Teach. Love!"
(Mr. Crawling x GN! Reader)
No way, NotHomeGal actually revived? Yup, I did. Homicipher brought me back to life from the depts of my creative burnout (o゜▽゜)o☆
This game really scratched a part of my brain I didn't know was there, but I'm not complaining!
And no, I won't be abandoning the slasher fandom, but I must say it will take some time to come back to write those right now, but I'll do my best to rekindle that spark!
Okay, enough of my yapping. Hope you enjoy this Oneshot (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
Summary: after learning that sometimes objects from the human world may fall into the realm you're currently stuck in, it became a common activity for you to scavenge around the junk to pass time, and your ghost companion always seems so curious about it!
Warnings: none really just fluff, Mr. Crawling being too cute for a mortal soul to handle.
Side note: yeah just like in most (basically all) of my fics, MC (or Y/N) will be Gender Neutral! So everyone gets to enjoy the story with their favorite ghost man :]
AND! Here's the link of the dictionary I used for the fic to put ghost words heheerhkj.
Word count: 3.6k
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It's been so long, they think at least. Time feels stuck in place, yet in the deepest part of (Y/N)'s conscience they know it's not true, that the time and everything outside these lifeless concrete walls is very much alive.
Life goes on, it keeps moving regardless if they feel it or not, time is passing just like it always did... Yet, they feel stuck. Numb. It's like their mind and soul are slowly melting, becoming one with this dimension they begrudgingly started to call "home", even if it's not... This is not their real home!...
It's not!...
It's not...
It's not...?
—"☨ д つ 々?"— (Sad)
A quiet gasp left (Y/N)'s lips when suddenly something brushed against their leg as that soft voice spoke next to them, that "something" being the very long, dark hair of their ghost companion.
They turn their head, almost flinching at the sight of how close Mr. Crawling was to them. Shoot, sometimes they forget how unnerving his appearance is, especially when he creeps up on them like this, though unintentionally.
—"ત ટ д ☨ д つ 々?"— (You Sad)
He repeated the question, his usual smile now replaced with a small frown. His voice quiet and soft as always, but with that subtle quiver at the end that appeared whenever he's concerned.
(Y/N)'s breath almost hitched from that little but oh so sweet display of care. Even after all the time spent side by side with Mr. Crawling, they still periodically wonder what the hell did they do to deserve such kind perso... Ghost, in their life.
Before the entity's worry could grow, (Y/N) flashed him with a smile, shaking their head a little.
—"I'm alright, just a little distracted."—
Their answer did seem to soothe the ghost's worry a little. However, he leaned closer, more of his hair falling into (Y/N)'s body, sending small shiver through their form as the black locks brushed their legs, sensation that resembling a small breeze of air running across their skin. An odd, chilly feeling... But one that became very comforting and grounding for the human over the time, as it was like a gentle reminder of Mr. Crawling's presence, that they weren't alone.
—"つ ત บ บ λ ป こ ৺ נ ८ ک ટ ? つ ત บ บ つ ኟ บ ટ ?"— (Not Bad Feel Not Scared)
Their smile faltered for a brief moment, knowing exactly what he was talking about...
Even if it's been quite a while since (Y/N) had one of those episodes of fear and hallucinations, the memories of them are still haunting the human in one way or another, leaving this uncomfortable sensation under their skin. It's like feeling hands, snaking all over their body, slowly slipping under their clothes, creeping through their skin and flesh, trying to dig deeper and deeper, right to their very core, trying to reach something so deep inside of them and rip it away from them...
Their essence?
Their soul?
T̵͉̗̒ḣ̴̻̱̂ȅ̷͓͘i̵̤͙̐͝ȑ̶͈̖̏ n̷̳̻̬̮̯̟̗̙̩̻̮͊͋̾́͐͌̏͒̿̏̆̑͜͠ä̴̢̧̡̦͕̻̙̻͕̳̟́̊͊̾̄̈́ḿ̵̡̢̛̜͉̗̗̞͖̟͈̬͈̻͍͌̋̓̐̅͘͠e̵͇̹͈̤͕̮̺͉͚͈͔̭͇̔-?
The human then simply hums, shaking off the heavy feeling off their mind. Their gaze soon focuses back on Mr. Crawling's face, their smile creeping back on their features, but now brighter, happier.
—"つ ત บ บ λ ป こ ৺ נ ८ ک ટ . つ ત บ บ ጉ ሰ ટ נ."— (Not Bad Feel Not Together)
They replied cheerfully, confidently using the otherworldly language to make sure there is no room for doubts left.
Upon hearing their answer and seeing that smile he absolutely adored, Mr. Crawling himself smiles back, letting that characteristic high-pitched giggle of of his. And just like (Y/N) expected, the crawling ghost reached out and gently patted their head, ruffling their grayish hair a little.
—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป ! ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (Glad Glad)
(Y/N) giggled as well, already used to Mr. Crawling's joyful chirps at whatever little thing they do. Once satisfied, the ghost slowly retires his hand from their head and leans back to his previous position right next to the human in a raincoat, his dark locks trailing behind and sliding off (Y/N)'s legs as he gives them a little bit of space.
They hum, that happy smile remaining on their lips, brightening a bit their bandage-covered face, returning some of color and life to it. The human soon shift their attention back to what they were previously up to, which was scavenging and going through all the junk and rumble that fell down here from the human world.
While (Y/N) is the one going through the numerous items, Mr. Crawling remained focused on them. Staying next to their crouched form and curiously watching the things they periodically picked up and inspected, sometimes even picking something himself and asking what it is and what humans do with it.
The activity was simple, but it was like a huge breath of air for (Y/N) and a great way to distract their mind from the decay this world was putting them through, helping them remember who they are and what are supposed to be. A human, an unfortunate human that found themselves in this place of absolute madness...
(Y/N)'s train of thoughts stopped when their eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of something bright and colorful under a small pile of old, messed news articles. And after carefully pushing aside all the trash, they get a clear sight of what it is.
A manga cover!
(Y/N)'s eyes widened and their smile grew as they reach out and grab the manga book, picking it up and instantly flipping through the pages.
—"No way, it's actually in good, readable condition!"—
They exclaimed excitedly, eyes wandering through the pages with interest.
Mr. Crawling simply observed, curiously watching them inspect the book. He noticed that (Y/N) would always get super excited whenever they saw one of these colorful pictures, and it made him happy to see them happy! As well as to keep a mental note to find more of these to make them even happier.
However, as the human paused on one of the pages, probably to check if the paper is holding up alright after getting a little wet. Something completely different caught the ghost's attention.
Slowly, Mr. Crawling reaches his hand again, pointing at a particular drawing with his finger while tilting his head to the side, like a confused puppy would.
—"נ บ ਦ ኟィд ⊔ ટ ৺ ㅗ?"— (What They Do)
He asked, gently tapping the picture with his finger.
(Y/N) glances at the spot their ghost companion is pointing at, their eyebrows rising slightly as they see an illustration of two of the characters kissing. Oh, did they just spoiled themselves one of the subplots?...
—"This?"—
They asks, eyes flickering between the comic and Mr. Crawling's face.
—"π々⊔ λ ک つ ત コ ጉ ک こ?"— (Why Touch Mouth)
The ghost asked again, genuine curiosity lingering in his quiet voice as he taps the paper again, his head turning to the side to look at (Y/N). Despite half of his face being covered by his dark hair, they could practically feel his curious stare, almost like a kid waiting for his parent to answer.
—"ک  ጉ ㄷ π π々⊔ ?"— (Teach Why)
He asks, now his attention completely casted on (Y/N), patiently waiting for their answer.
The mentioned human stays silent at fist, seemingly surprised the ghost actually doesn't know what a kiss is and why people do it. However, the more they think about it, the less he can blame Mr. Crawling. After all, this world is not built for affection, and considering all the dangers that lurk here on daily basis, it's not too surprising that some residents of this place don't even know what affection is.
—"Well. This is called a kiss, 'kiss'."—
They explain, pointing at their lips as they spell the word for him.
—"K- K̴̻̍-K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾-?"—
He attempts to repeat, though the sound comes more as a hiss rather than an actual word... Still, (Y/N) was proud of him for trying! And expresses such joy with a soft giggle.
—"Yeah, kiss. Uh..."—
They paused, thinking over their wording before continuing.
—"☨ บ п ป Kiss ત λ コㄷ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ."— (Human _ Desire Teach Love)
They finish, scratching their cheek with a sheepish smile, knowing that their explanation probably sounded wonky a weird, especially with that little mix between languages.
The ghost, makes a small "oh" sound, actually understanding their answer even with the odd wording.
Suddenly, Mr. Crawling's face lightens in puppy-like joy as he leans closer, his face just inches away from the human's when he starts to chirp back.
—"ત λ コㄷ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ! "— (Desire Teach Love)
(Y/N) raised their eyebrows at his words, their cheeks suddenly feeling a little warmer.
(Hold on, is he asking me for a kiss?!)
As flustered as they were, upon seeing that excited, happy smile of the ghost that they grew so attached to, they couldn't find the heart to tell him no even if their life depended on it. Beside, it's just a kiss, and they both like each other! So why not?
—"Eh... Hehehe. Okay, okay. You kiss like this."—
They answer, before suddenly leaning forward and pressing their lips against the cold skin of his cheek.
A soft, quiet gasp escaped the ghost's lips, the difference in temperature between his and (Y/N) body never failing to make his chest feel all funny, though not unpleasant type of funny. But now with the added softness of their lips and the hot breath casted on his face, it created a sensation he haven't felt before.
The human leans back a little, chuckling under their breath at the ghost's reaction. However, their smile begin to fade when they notice how still he suddenly got.
They go silent, patiently waiting for Mr. Crawling to say or do something, but he remained perfectly still and dead silent, like some kind of creepy statue. Did they just cross some boundary they didn't know about?...
—"Mr. Crawling?..."— you ask eventually, voice quiet. —"Are you alright? Did I-..."—
(Y/N) paused when he finally does move, slowly lifting his hand from the opened manga book and brushing his fingers against his cheek, right on the spot they kissed him a second ago.
Suddenly, another high-pitched giggle escaped the ghost as he immediately launches forward, forcing (Y/N) back and basically tackling them to the ground into that famous overzealous hug of his they came to secretly adore.
—"K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾ ! K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾ !"—
He cheerfully exclaims with his broken human speech, before mimicking (Y/N)'s action and pressing his lips against their cheek. Though, more than an kiss his gesture resembled a nuzzle, like big dog gently bumping his favorite person with his nose.
—"৺ ጉ נ ⊔ λ ત д ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ! "— (Me Want to Teach Love)
(Y/N) just couldn't help but laugh at the sweet action of the ghost, their cheeks turning much redder and warmer than before. With their hands no longer being occupied by the manga book, they reach and rest their hands on Mr. Crawling's back, basically hugging him back as the entity continues to joyfully express his liking through the newfound gesture.
—"You're doing it pretty good! But this is not exactly a kiss..."—
They eventually say, sliding their hands from his back and instead resting them on his shoulders. At the sound of their voice, Mr. Crawling's affectionate nuzzles pause and leans back, tilting his head to the side with curiosity.
—"Yeah, you need to press your lips, not caress with them. Ehm..."—
They fall silent, their gaze adverting for a brief moment as they try to find the needed words to describe what they're trying to say, but all they get is a reminder of how poor and limited the ghost vocabulary is...
Mr. Crawling remained quiet, patiently waiting for (Y/N) to figure out their wording. He didn't mind the wait at all to be honest, patience being one of his biggest virtues after all. Beside, seeing the human mumble and emit noises under their breath while making funny faces, such as pushing their lips or furrowing their brows, was a very cute sight to witness!
When realized that words, human or not, won't cut it. (Y/N) decided to use actions instead, as their head was starting to hurt at this point from this damn language barrier. So, with a soft sigh their eyes flicker back at Mr. Crawling, who was still patiently waiting for them to figure out their wording, or maybe taking the chance to look and admire their face, or maybe both...
—"৺ ጉ נ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ત ટ д Kiss."— (Me Teach You)
They finally said, a hint of determination in their tone, though it was mostly directed to (Y/N) as they try to push through their own sudden rush of shyness and fluster. How comes they can be all giggly and cuddly when Mr. Crawling literally tackles them, but then turn into a blushing mess from a little kiss?! Ugh, even they start to make less sense the more they stay in this world...
At their words, the ghost seemed almost ecstatic. He already was eager to get any sort of attention from (Y/N), let alone affection. So the mere thought of feeling their lips pressed against his skin again made his whole body almost shake.
(Y/N) could feel the ghost's body grow tense from the overwhelming joy, and it was such a strangely endearing sight to witness; an otherworldly entity acting like an overjoyed puppy about to receive his favorite treat.
They giggle again, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze before speaking.
—"Okay hehe... Eeh... Look, you kiss like this, 々ኟп৺."— (Look)
They say before leaning closer, the distance between their and Mr. Crawling's face growing smaller and smaller, until their lips finally come in contact with the ghost's other cheek.
They can feel him shiver, clearly still not used to the new sensation, but he was definitely loving it judging by the way his long arms slightly closed around their body, almost hugging them and pressing their smaller form against his taller one.
(Y/N) leans back a tiny bit, taking the chance to simply look at the entity who was holding them in it's embrace so tenderly. Of course, this is not the first, nor last, time they'll be held by Mr. Crawling. But... Right now, there's something different, they feel different. Their heart is pounding like crazy, yes. But they no longer feel flustered or embarrassed, they feel strangely in peace in fact.
There's always been something captivating about the crawling ghost, even with his unnerving traces. The way his long, black hair surrounds them, a void that's isolating both from the outside world, covering them like a veil, making each the protagonist of the other's gaze. For a monster-filled place like this, the moment felt almost romantic.
The human let a soft exhale, their lips parting ever so slightly. And before their brain could even realize it, (Y/N) was already leaning forward again.
They don't know what came over them, but their mind, their heart, and even that little voice was telling them the same thing...
{Do it.)
They press their lips again, this time against the tip of his nose, getting one of these little "eh" sounds out of him.
They didn't stop there however, instead starting to pepper the ghost's face with more kisses. His cheeks, his forehead, his jaw...
(Y/N)'s movements were slow and delicate, keeping in mind the comfort of their otherworldly companion as they shower him with this new, intimate affection. They weren't quite sure what he was thinking about all of this, if he was getting overwhelmed or not, if he truly enjoyed or understood how much this moment meant for humans... But by how his arms seem to close more around their smaller form, how his fingers flex around the fabric of their raincoat, how his body seemed to gradually relax and even lean into the new, loving gesture...
Yeah, they knew he understood.
However, as (Y/N) was about to reach his lips, an inexplicable wave of hesitation came all over them, freezing them in place and incapacitating from moving back of forward, their heartbeat getting surprisingly, almost painfully loud.
(What's going on?)
(Why am I feeling so... Self-conscious?)
(No... No. I want to do it, I need to do it! Come on body, move! Move god damnit!)
They screamed inside of their mind, yet their body still refused to move, regardless of all the mental berating they were putting themselves through. Their grip on Mr. Crawling's shoulder tightened a little, like a silent attempt to ground themselves and remember just how close the ghost was, how he was waiting for them to continue, how he was waiting for them. But... They... They just couldn't move.
However, after a few beats of silence and inactivity had passed, is Mr. Crawling the one to finally break the tension and lean forward, his cold lips pressing against the warm ones of the human.
And just like that, all the doubts and hesitations had melted away in (Y/N), and everything felt alright again. No, more than alright. This felt perfect, intimate, sweet, and surprisingly innocent. Holding nothing but the affection, care and love the two beings felt for one another, now in it's purest way.
A human.
And a ghost.
Together, connected to each other not just in a physical way, but now in a deep, emotional way...
The kiss itself probably didn't last even 10 seconds, but in (Y/N)'s and Mr. Crawling's mind it felt like two eternities had passed, and many more would if they'd decided to keep going.
After breaking the kiss, the two just stay like this for a while, looking at each other as their minds clear from the haze and feeling of drunkenness the sweet exchange left behind. Mr. Crawling still on top of (Y/N), but instead of just hovering over them like he always did, now his arms were tightly wrapped around their frame, keeping them securely in place right between the ground and his body.
(Y/N) couldn't explain it, but right now they feel like they're falling again for the ghost. Just by being held in his embrace and hidden underneath his larger body, they felt so safe and at peace... So...
It's like they were home.
Their home...
He became their home, their safe place, their happy place...
Him...
—"λ ک ሰ ৺ ટ ?"— (Are you okay)
Mr. Crawling suddenly asked, his smile faltering as his embrace on them tightens a little. It was almost like he was concerned he did something wrong and broke them, what a sweetheart.
(Y/N) blinked, noticing they were probably staring and zoning out with this little realization of theirs, realization that their real home was not in this or their world.
It was with Mr. Crawling.
Or at least, that's what their heart told them.
—"I'm fine."—
The human said in a soft voice. Their body leaning forward while speaking, snuggling closer to the ghost's chest, the action feeling like a little dejavu to the time he hid them from the man in red.
Ugh... The sole mention of that guy is still sending shivers through their body, so let's not think about him.
—"৺コኅ ጉ ሰ ટ נ ৺ ጉ נ ሰ ኟ つ ጉ."— (Us Together Me Happy)
Mr. Crawling didn't take long to let yet another high-pitched giggle, his head coming to rest on top of (Y/N)'s, nuzzling gently against their hair and raincoat hood.
—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป ! ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (Glad Glad)
He chirped cheerfully, his arms tightening just a little to give the human a gentle squeeze.
—"ત ટ д ሰ ኟ つ ጉ ৺ ጉ נ ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (You Happy Me Grateful)
—"৺ ጉ נ ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д !"— (Me Like You)
—"৺ ጉ נ ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ጉ ሰ ટ נ ત ટ д !"— (Me Like Together You)
All (Y/N) could do at the moment is giggle and attempt to keep up with his excitement. Jeez, they forgot how talkative Mr. Crawling gets when excited. They reach out at some point, affectionately rubbing his back like a quiet request to slow down, which the ghost quickly complies by stopping his speech and instead resorting just to the nuzzling.
The two remained like this for quite a while, just enjoying this precious moment of having each other close. Even if they knew that the next time (Y/N) needs to take a nap, they'll be in embraced again.
—"Alright, that's enough for now.—
The human muttered, giving the ghost's back a few gentle pats like a way of saying that they wanted him to move.
Mr. Crawling doesn't try to protest at all, surprisingly. And after giving one more squeeze, his arms loosen around (Y/N)'s form and he slowly lets go, his body getting off them and instead settling right by their side. That's probably the reason he didn't complain about letting go, knowing he'd be next to them one way or another.
(Y/N) chuckled again at the ghost's sneaky antics, finding them pretty adorable. And after reaching out to pat his head again, the human settles into a more comfortable position and grabs the manga book they previously dropped from Mr. Crawling's surprise-tackle-hug.
—"Okay, let's see what this is about..."—
The human muttered to themselves while opening the book and starting to read the story, deciding to go blind into it and discover the plot as they progress with the story.
Mr. Crawling in the meantime had found his comfortable spot by placing his head against (Y/N)'s shoulder, with one of his arms resting across their waist, keeping them in this half hug.
Even if the ghost didn't understand a word, the illustrations of the manga were very helpful and allowed him to follow the story along with the human. Though there were things he also didn't quite understand about human behavior, it wasn't a big deal since (Y/N) would always chive in and explain him things.
As the two lay there, reading, Mr. Crawling suddenly lifted his head and pressed his lips against (Y/N)'s cheek gently, this time actually kissing them.
—"৺ ጉ נ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д ! "— (Me Teach Love You)
He said in a sweet, happy tone that nearly made (Y/N)'s heart explode. Ugh, seriously who gave him the right to be so cute!?
—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป."— (Grateful)
—"ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ৺ ጉ נ ?"— (Like Me)
(Aaand there he goes again. Yup, high-maintenance type...)
(But he's my high-maintenance type.)
—"ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д."— (Like You)
They replied warmly, planting another kiss on top of his head, gaining yet another lovely giggle from the entity before returning their attention to the manga. The ghost soon following their example, settling back into his previous position, occasionally nuzzling against their shoulder like an affectionate cat. They could swear he'd be purring if he could.
And while reading the manga, (Y/N) couldn't help but smile, but also dread a little at how the next days would go now that Mr. Crawling learned about kissing and what it meant...
...
They're going to get tackled A LOT.
"Won't they?"
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aventurineswife · 3 days ago
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Aventurine's Voicelines about his S/O
Just something silly I wrote while thinking about him 🫣🤭, maybe I might write for others? 👀 Drop your suggestions on who you wanna see next! ;)
Ratio's ver | Sunday's ver
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Favourite Gamble
Ah, my favorite gamble... the one bet where I’ve already won. [Chuckles softly] You should see them—steady as a dealer’s hand, yet warm enough to melt even the iciest odds. They’ve taught me there’s more to life than just the game, though I’d never admit that to anyone else. I’d wager everything, every last chip, just to keep them smiling. After all, what’s the point of winning, if they’re not there to share the spoils?
First Meeting: Gamble Worth Taking
Ah, our first encounter… Now, that was a twist of fate I’d never seen coming. They walked in like a wild card, shuffling my carefully stacked deck with just a glance. [Soft chuckle] I remember thinking, 'Now, there’s a gamble worth taking.' Turns out, I was right—meeting them was the start of my greatest winning streak.
First Date: An Exquisite Gamble
Our first date? Let’s just say it was… an exquisite gamble. I went all in—dinner under the stars, a hand-picked bottle of wine, and my finest suit. I tried to impress them, of course, but truth be told, I was the one enchanted. The way they laughed, the way they looked at me... for the first time, I felt like the game didn’t matter. It was all about them.
All-In for Them
You know, when the chips are down, it’s not strategy or odds that keep me steady—it’s them. [Pauses thoughtfully] I find myself smiling more, taking bigger risks, not because I’m fearless, but because I know they’re there, win or lose. Funny, isn’t it? A gambler like me, betting everything on a single person. But for them? I’d do it a thousand times over.
Luckiest Draw
There are moments I replay in my mind like a dealer shuffling cards—our first meeting, that perfect evening on our first date, even the quiet moments where they just sit by my side. Every one of them is a treasure, a jackpot I never expected. And they… they’re my ace. My constant. My luckiest draw.
Uncalculated Gamble
I’ve lived my life taking chances, always playing to win, always calculating the odds. But with them? There are no calculations, no strategy—just truth. I’m not just charmed by them, I’m captivated. They’ve become my everything, my sanctuary in a world of chaos. And that? That’s the only bet I’ll never regret.
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cheyisagirlkisser · 3 days ago
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pitfighter vi who has been fucking random hookers to let off some steam, then meets reader and assumes she’s a hooker too, reader gets offended and says she’s a virgin, vi takes her virginity 🤍
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Vi is gonna be a scumbag in the beginning because I need her to be!! This request kinda made me laugh imagining my reader all pissed off about Vi’s dumbassery
Content: 2.2k words, face-riding (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), Vi slaps your tits, grinding on Vi’s lap, slight corruption/cherry chasing kink, Vi is a whore in this boo, most of this is from her perspective so she calls the brothel girls whores n stuff
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The blonde's lips were parted, her eyes glossed over and her cheeks rosy. Her body was shaking with every thrust Vi delivered to her cunt. Over and over again, it wasn't even something Vi had to think about. She did this like it was a job, clocking in just to leave and never come back for her girls. Brothel girls, the ones on the streets, sluts who watch her fights, it's all game.
It's so fucking boring though.
All the same high-pitched moans and the same movements she gave to all of them. It started out to be addicting and distracted her enough from all of the feelings muddling her head. When she was with a girl, she felt oddly clear in the head. Same didn't go for the women who she had practically impaled on the Zaun community strap she had going around.
When the blonde finally came, she fell limp into the bed. Breathless, but not wrecked. Vi hadn't been wrecked in a long time.
She thought that the cycle would never get old: sleep half the day, train, go make some money as a pit fighter, get plastered, and find some hooker to lay with. Every piece of self-sabotage was like a guilty pleasure, but the more it branded her mind, her life, the more she just wasn't in for it anymore. That was, until she saw you.
It was another regular day for her. She woke up at 2 in the afternoon and sloppily punch her punching-bag over and over again until her brain shut off and her knuckles were even more bruised than yesterday.
This time, the fight didn't go so well.
Usually, Vi was able to get the majority of her anger out on whatever unfortunate, burly man was thrown into the ring with her. Comically enough, she lost. Her body was weak and she still had so many pent-up emotions. She didn't have the time to go searching the streets or bar for some girl to bring home; maybe the brothel would be worth it.
When she walked in, she was greeted with the sight of dim lights, red hues glowing from lamps to give the rooms a sensual appearance. Behind curtains were cries of pleasure small, mischievous giggles.
Vi approached the front desk and didn't waste any time - she wasn't in the mood to waste time. She needed to fuck some random prostitute and she didn't care who.
"Just give me whatever 50 coins is worth," she deadpanned, frisking out her coin bag before something caught her eye. In the corner of the room, sat on a sofa, was you.
You were unlike any prostitute she'd ever laid eyes upon. You looked sweet, delicate. You looked like a fucking flower, the softest complexion she had ever witnessed in a brothel. Your hair looked so soft and she for the first time in a while, she had a rush of adrenaline wondering what it'd be like to tug on your hair and break that soft, innocent face of yours.
What the hell were you doing working at a whore house?
"Hello..? Earth to Vi?" Babette sounded amused.
Vi didn't answer, she was in a fucking trance. This was the first time she actually felt an attraction to a girl working in a place like this. She quickly made her way over to you, sitting alone with the sweetest expression on your face.
"How much do you cost?" Jeez Vi, you're such a scumbag..
Your face quickly tilted up to face her, confusion plastering your soft features. "What do you mean?"
Vi held back the urge to snort. You were playing innocent, huh?
"I want a night with you. How much?"
At that, you quickly shook your head. "Oh, no..I'm just-"
"This act is so fucking adorable, holy shit. None of Babette's whores act all sweet like you, huh?" She let out a laugh at her own joke. "Bet you're one of the men's favorites."
Your nose crinkled at that, your lips parting not with arousal or breathlessness, but because you were..offended?
"Excuse you?! I'm not a prostitute! I'm here to bring something to a friend!" Your eyes didn't meet hers, "I don't..do that stuff."
Oh, shit..were you actually a virgin?
"O-Oh..wow, sorry.." Vi rubbed at her head, embarrassed, but something in her, something in her scumbag system blurted out the next words. Just the idea of taking a pretty, delicate girl's virginity sent blood pumping between her legs. God, she was such a pervert..
"Well, you don't have to actually be a prostitute, you know.." She trailed off, observing your reaction to her words.
You looked even more confused now. "To..what.."
"I'll still pay to if I can take you home with me."
"What?!" Your face was so cute, all scrunched up and clearly embarrassed. She was so excited to fuck that pissed off look you had going on away.
"C'mon, I'm sure you need the money. I need to release some stress, and I promise I'll try to go easy on you," she snorted, adding on, "we can pretend it's your honeymoon or something."
You paused at that.
Vi was right; you really did need the money. Rent was due soon and you only worked at some bar for scraps of coin. She had a lot of money from previous fights, and you could see the sheer amount in her little bag. You didn't want to spare your dignity to become a common whore, but what could you do?
"Okay."
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Vi had you seated in her lap back in her bed, your body trembling like a leaf every time she planted another kiss on your neck. You were just so damn cute, all shy and sensitive to her lavish amount of attention. It made her pulse beat faster, and she was immediately hooked.
She forgot all about the other girls. No, she needed you right now.
"You're so soft, you know that..?" She whispered into your ear, lips brushing over the cartilage and making your breath hitch slightly. "And you smell like flowers and lotion, it's a surprise nobody has loved you like this."
Her voice so saccharine and greedy, her words so truthful and desperate, and her mouth so warm- it made you dizzy in the head, and you were already softly squirming in her lap for friction, your hands pulling at her jacket to bring her closer.
"Please, I need you...feels so good when I'm on you." You admitted, choking out a cute little squeak when she grasps at your hips and guides your motions. It is all so addicting, like you're discovering a whole world of pleasure you never had before, but this still isn't enough.
Vi was losing it. You were all cute, squealing and grinding into her lap, doing more than any brothel worker could do for her. Your breaths were coming out in pants and you sounded like the other girls did on their fourth orgasms. She wondered how you'd sound once she had you that far. Earlier, she was so pissed off and wanted to slam her cock into anything she could. Her aggression soon faded, simmering down to a softness, to a need to blow your mind with this experience rather than just fuck you and go.
"How 'bout you ride on my face for me?" She spoke against your neck, going back to leaving bruising marks onto your soft skin. When her lip pressed onto your pulse, she could feel how your heart was practically beating out of your chest.
"W-What?! What if I hurt you?" You're worried about hurting her? That is comical. You should've been worried about yourself. I mean, you were in bed about to get fucked by a butch pitfighter. Now that she knew you were needy for her, begging for her like a whore when you were a sweet virgin, she was going to treat you like a whore, she decided - as passionately as possible.
Vi laughed and laid back, tugging at your cute little shorts to get you out of them and onto her face, "I can handle huge men, I can handle a girl. Get on my face, right now."
You were quickly out of your clothes, in nothing but a cute patterned pair of socks. You hesitated a bit before finally letting yourself sink onto her-
Vi wasn't having it. With a quick grab of your hips, she lowered you onto her face completely and began to eat you out.
The way she devoured you was akin to how she ate right after she got out of prison; all messy and desperate, with an obvious sense of bliss mixed within. All this time, all the call-girls and prostitutes who couldn't do it for her, what she really needed was you.
You didn't moan like them when she lapped at your clit but rather tangled your fingers into her hair and whined. The way you made the sounds like you weren't just feeling good, but like you needed this just as much as her left her more messed up than she could ever even dream of being.
You were still so sensitive to all Vi was giving you, trying to squirm away for relief only to find yourself bound on top of her, her lips rubbing against your clit with a hunger that sent butterflies throughout your system, stomach and pussy clenching like never before.
“A-Aghh, Vi! Please, it’s too much…”
Vi only slipped her tongue into your hole and you jolted, violently trembling on her lap in a way she’d never seen before.
When your orgasm came, and it came fast but hard, your hips frantically ground against her face for more, crying out her name.
“Vi! Please, don’t stop…”
Every flutter of pleasure was like a blessing until it finally slowed down into nothing. When it was over, your knees almost buckled and you nearly crashed onto her head. Vi laughed, pulled you onto the bed so that she could settle on top of you.
" 'm gonna finger this sweet pussy, m'kay?"
Apparently she expected an answer and not just a whine, because she delivered a firm smack to your breast, not painful but hard enough to make you gasp.
"Tell me what I'm going to do to you." She was being so authoritative over you and didn't even know why. Why was she so obsessed with having you follow her every command?
"Y-You're gonna finger me.." You repeated back to her, voice shaky after your last orgasm.
"Yeah, that's right.. you really are just a flower, aren't you? All sweet 'n delicate." As she spoke, two fingers teased your dripping hole, causing you to grip at her bedsheets. Vi liked that, liked that you were so responsive. She wasn't able to get that reaction out of her other girls.
Finally, her fingers parted through your inner pussy lips and into you, making you gasp. It was an unfamiliar feeling; you weren't innocent, obviously touching yourself, but usually really only on the outside. You never could get yourself to cum, it felt too weird feeling around inside of yourself. Vi's touch, however, made you weak in the knees.
Where you lacked, she seemed to hit right exactly where you needed it. Deep inside your walls, you felt her fingers curl and rub at your g-spot and all you could do was tighten your grasp at Vi's poor bed and take everything she was giving you.
"Good girl. You take me so fuckin' well, don't you?" You whined at her praise, spurring her on to press more firmly against your walls, her fingers pumping so deeply your vision was unfocused, your breaths coming in pants rather than steady inhales and exhales.
Vi took the time to lavish attention onto your neck, alternating between bites and soothing laps at the area which only made you writhe more. "Feeling good? You wanna cum and make a mess for me?"
You nodded, your body practically shaking with the need to give her what she asked, to give yourself what you needed. "P-Please, make me cum!"
She did.
Your body shook underneath her, your hips bucking up into her touch as far as they could. It like all the tension in your body had been let go and all you could do was enjoy it. Sex with her was just so enjoyable, and the way she let you have your own pleasure and not tease you or giggle at the way your throat let choked out moans escape? God, you were so fucked. Literally and figuratively, too. You weren't supposed to lose your virginity like this, but how would you ever be able to resist her again? You were sure to become Vi's little fuck-toy, especially if she had her way.
Afterwards, Vi pulled you into the shower and just held you.
She had not held a girl in so long, and she used to think she would never again. It didn't interest her to care for someone, but you were so sweet and lovely, all she could think to do was take care of your body after giving it so much. She didn't wanna overwhelm you too much.
Fuck, why was she suddenly so caring? She'd grown up that way, sure; still, she thought she would stay away from actually loving someone after all the loss she felt.
For the first time in months, Vi would let a girl sleep in her bed tonight.
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myss-lys · 2 days ago
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Like The Prince? ~ F.T.
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Summary: In which a pink haired girl is met with the most sought after man in all of Oz, Fiyero.
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I twirl the yellow flower in my hand as I walk through the dark woods. My professor sent me out to get a specific flower for the potion that we’re currently learning how to make.
I’m snapped out of my thoughts when I hear a twig snap behind me. My head whips around. Suddenly my mind is racing with every scary movie, book, and story I’ve ever heard. I quickly turn back to the path and begin walking at a fast pace.
I nearly fall backwards when a horse comes running right at me. It stops right before reaching me and both the horse and the man on it laugh at me. “Woah, didn’t mean to scare you.” The man says. I recollect myself before scolding the man like I’m his mother. “Are you crazy? You cannot be riding like that at night you could kill somebody!” I shout. “Ok mom.” The horse snickers under its breath causing the man the laugh.
I roll my eyes before walking back on the path. The man follows beside me, still on his horse. “I don’t think you have to worry about being trampled at night, considering you have that bright pink hair.” The man says. My hand subconsciously touches my pink hair. The pink hair I was born with an have been relentlessly teased for.
“Just get whatever you have to say about it out of your system now.” I say, defeated. “Okay then. It’s a wonderful color on you.” He says. I look up at him and scoff. “Who-who are you?” I ask. “I’m Fiyero Tigelaar.” He says. I scoff again. “Like the prince?” I ask. “Of course darling.” He says. “Like I believe that.” I say.
He chuckles. A silence falls over us before he breaks it. “Where are you headed to?” He asks. “Shiz.” I say. “Why don’t you let me give you a ride? It’s not out of my path.” He says. I laugh. “Yeah that doesn’t sound suspicious at all. First you’re a prince and now suddenly my destination just happens to be in your path?” I say.
“Suit yourself.” He says before speeding up. “Wait! Just because my feet are starting to hurt, I’ll let you give me a ride.” I say with a smile. He grins at me before reaching his hand down to help me up.
The ride to Shiz is filled is lighthearted conversation and many laughs. I notice he’s taking the longer way to Shiz, seeming to not want the conversation to end.
He stops at the gates of Shiz. “I hope to see you around.” He says. “I don’t.” I say, jokingly, before unlocking the gate with my Shiz Pin. I hear him chuckle behind me. I turn back around and our eyes meet, for what I think is the final time. “See you later, Pinkie.” He says. I wince at the nickname I had opened up to him about. The one I’ve been called my whole life and have. “Bye, prince.” I say with a sarcastic tone.
I turn around and walk away, not looking back. I feel his lingering stare before hearing him and his horse ride away.
The next morning I open my door to get the daily paper. The front page shows the man from last night, the title reading “Prince Now Attending Shiz”
He wasn’t lying.
Later that day, I'm walking to class when I hear a commotion in the courtyard. Galinda Upland, the most popular girl at Shiz, is practically hanging off someone's arm. As I get closer, I realize it's him. Fiyero.
He's smiling politely as she chatters away, flipping her perfect golden curls and batting her eyelashes. I can't help but notice how they look together - like something out of a fairy tale. The handsome prince and the beautiful socialite.
I try to hurry past, clutching my books to my chest, but then I hear his voice cut through Galinda's endless stream of words. "Excuse me for just a moment," he says, already moving away from her despite her protests.
"Hey, Pinkie!" he calls out. I freeze mid-step, feeling everyone's eyes turn to me. Galinda's mouth drops open in shock as Fiyero jogs over to where I'm standing.
"I was hoping I'd run into you," he says, grinning at me. "Though I have to say, you're much easier to spot in daylight."
I can hear the whispers starting already. Galinda's perfectly manicured hand is pressed to her chest in horror as she watches the scene unfold. The prince - her prince of exactly ten minutes - is talking to the girl with the weird pink hair.
"Shouldn't you be getting back to your adoring fan?" I ask, nodding toward Galinda.
He glances over his shoulder and shrugs. "I'd rather talk to the girl who called me crazy and lectured me about night riding safety. Much more interesting conversation."
I feel my cheeks flush, both from his words and the increasing number of stares we're attracting. "Well, someone has to keep you in line, Your Highness," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady despite my racing heart. The crowd around us continues to grow, and I can practically feel Galinda's glare burning into my back.
Part 2 —> coming soon
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the-boy-meets-evil · 2 days ago
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as wild and untamable as the sea | l.c
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pairing: greek god!chan x reincarnated sea nymph!f!reader genre: angst, romance, smut | reincarnation, fantasy, greek gods!au rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~15.8k warnings: mentions of past unhealthy relationships, (possibly inaccurate) greek mythology, lots of POV switches (but i don't think it's confusing) mentions of eating, explicit smut, multiple sex positions, unprotected sex (just don't), slight edging, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), chan is strong and very in control, i think that's all but let me know if it's not
summary: Chan remembers everything. Every little thing that's happened to him since his days as one of the twelve Olympians. Poseidon to be exact. Even though he tries not to think about it now that he's living in modern times running a sad little aquarium, some memories are more vivid than others. Then, you stumble into his life and he can't explain the draw. You can't seem to figure out how this man is keeping an aquarium like this running when it seems like it's not that busy. Something about him really seems to put you off, despite the fact that he seems drawn to you. None of it makes any sense...until it does.
a/n: this is for the 13 Gods of Olympus collab that @beomcoups & @wooahaeproductions have been tirelessly working on. thank you so much for hosting this! i know this isn't the end for this couple, but i really needed to get this out into the world. if you want to know what happens next with them, let me know.
a/n 2: this is semi-unedited and i'm just throwing it out into the world but i'll come back. if you see anything glaring, no you didn't!
tag list: @illiadiaz, @syluslittlecrows, @yini-yang, @fancypeacepersona, @bitchlessdino, @newjihoonie, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @tusswrites, @cookiearmy
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Another day, another dollar. 
Wasn’t that what the humans said about another day spent working at some mindless job? Despite all the years he’s spent blending into their world, Chan still doesn’t really understand the humans. Doesn’t really understand why they put up with so many things they seemingly hate. Doesn’t really understand why they waste their short lives on something that makes them miserable. But, in fairness to the humans, Chan has also never had to worry about the trivial things that come along with working like money, possessions, or a home. When you’re one of the original gods of Olympus and life is seemingly infinite, money isn’t really an issue. 
That’s who Chan was in another lifetime: Poseidon. The God of the Sea, among other things. At least, until Olympus fell. A painful thought that he usually tries to push from his mind.
In the early days after Olympus fell, Chan still went through life acknowledging who he was. He leveraged his powers for favors or for payment. He used his control of the water and everything in it to get him what he needed. But, the years went by and the Olympians became the stuff of myth. Of stories. The kind of characters that you read about in books. Only the most eccentric members of society continue to worship the Olympians as if they’re real. Which they are, Chan reminds himself. Or, they were. As the faith faded, so did the Olympians’ belief in restoring themselves to full power. One by one, they gave up the task of finding a way back until it was only Chan and Zeus left. Two of the brightest minds of Olympus. Even they had to admit their own defeat. 
Which leads to the present day. Chan has taken on a new persona, for the…well, he’s lost track of what number this one is. He’s just thankful for his ability to shapeshift into someone new whenever he needs to. Takes a new name every time, too. At first, he tried to keep in touch with his siblings and the other Olympians. That, too, fades over time. It’s been at least a century since he’s spoken to any of them. Though, occasionally, he’ll catch wind of something through the chattering of local sea creatures. Something that says at least some of them are still out there.
Chan sighs. There’s really no reason for him to be wandering down memory lane in this way. He thinks, not for the first time, that maybe he needs to pick a different cover job. One that will keep his mind a little more occupied. The reality is, though, he’s tried nearly everything he could think of over the centuries. Changing professions is a frequent occurrence when he doesn’t want to let his body show too many signs of age. Not that he minds, it’s just that people start to ask too many questions about how he’s handling things someone “his age” shouldn’t be able to handle. In the end, working with sea life has always been the best. And this set up, where he’s running a smaller aquarium off of some long forgotten boardwalk in an area that doesn’t get much traffic, is also great. It isn’t even that Chan doesn’t like being around people. He finds humans entertaining in most senses. It’s just that nothing in this life is permanent for him. He’s not going to fall in love and grow old with someone. Best to just keep things at arm’s length. 
Most days are more or less the same and Chan works the majority of them. On the rare days off, he’s not far away since his little house is within walking distance of both the aquarium, the boardwalk it’s on, and the water. He trusts the limited staff that he has because he pays them well. Better than any other similar business, but he values loyalty. And they don’t seem to question how he’s able to make things work. That is largely due to the anonymous donors that make monthly contributions to the aquarium. Really, it’s just Chan funneling money that he’s earned over his many years on Earth so that he can keep a business afloat. Nobody seems to have anything to say. Beyond the staff not asking questions, they are all very good at their jobs. It makes life easier for Chan that way because he doesn’t have to micromanage them. Everyone knows what they’re supposed to do and will only ask questions if they hit an actual block. No, the aquarium runs very smoothly. It just doesn’t get a lot of business.
Since every day kind of blends together, Chan almost never realizes as days or weeks or even months pass by. He’s in a sort of autopilot where he also knows what he has to do and just does it without question. It’s just rinse and repeat day in and day out. 
Until it’s not. Until the first day that he notices you in his small, out of the way little aquarium. Until the day that everything starts to change.
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You’re not really sure what pulls you in for the first time. You’ve probably passed this sad little aquarium dozens of times without giving it a second thought. Then, one day, you decide that you might as well go in. The cost of admission is incredibly reasonable, but you think that’s probably why you haven’t gone sooner. It might seem counterintuitive. You just wonder how well the animals can be taken care of with such a low cost of admission.  You’re not sure if you can handle seeing animals mistreated. Still, there’s no going back now. Even with the outside seemingly a little poorly cared for, you still find your feet pulling you forward. 
You’ve never been more wrong about anything in your life. 
The dingy outside gives way to a vibrant inside that’s teeming with love and light. The art on the walls is carefully curated to match the different areas of the aquarium. There are workers with genuine smiles going about their days. Even the animals seem to be happy. It’s also deceptively large on the inside. It makes you wonder why it looks so run down from the outside. Surely, someone that cares this much about the animals could care a little more for the outside as well. Maybe that’s the point. Why waste money on an outside nobody really cares about when it can go to the best care possible?
Almost immediately, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. Just this morning, you were ready to explode from all the stress in your life. Now, stress feels like the furthest thing from your mind. In fact, you can’t even remember what you were stressed about. Strange. This is the first time you remember a single place erasing any sort of worry. Just as you’re about to consider that the place holds some kind of magic, you realize that not everyone seems to be as at ease. A mother scolds her child and an elderly couple bicker. It breaks a little bit of the illusion, though you still feel calm. 
Subconsciously, your feet carry you to the area with the sea otters. They have always been some of your favorites, even if they’re not the typical sea resident that people think about. As you watch on, two chase each other around the enclosure. They seem like they must be young with the way they can’t seem to stop playing. It’s incredibly endearing to watch. Another, slightly larger, otter emerges from around a bend and the original two quickly dip under the water to shoot off. It almost seems like a mother scolding her children, but maybe you’re creating too many stories within your own mind. Your imagination, especially around sea life, can be a bit active.
A few minutes later, a worker comes out and starts feeding all the otters. They’re quick to come and get the food, showing just how many there are. You weren’t expecting to see such a large population in this off-the-beaten-path aquarium. The man feeding them looks young, but that’s true of nearly everyone that you’ve seen here. They all look young and entirely too pretty. This man is no different. He’s sporting a very blond, shaggy semi-mullet that doesn’t look like it could possibly be his natural hair color. Yet, it looks remarkably believable on him. When you frown at the amount of food he’s giving to the otters, he walks over to the side of the enclosure and leans on the railing close to you. He tosses a bucket of crab legs out into the water and the otters go crazy for that. It seems an odd choice for animals living in captivity, but what do you know? 
“Did you know,” the man begins, “that sea otters eat 25% of their weight in food every day?” 
Well. That certainly explains it. “I didn’t.” 
“I like to give them the crab legs too because it’s a fun little activity for them,” he carries on with a smile. “It’s also something they’d eat in the wild.” 
“That seems…expensive,” you say carefully. 
The man only smiles bigger. “Oh it is! But our boss has really great donors for the aquarium and we can afford to feed them well.” 
“Well, then the otters are definitely lucky,” you note and turn back to the otters.
“We all are. Chan takes care of us just as well as all the animals that live here,” he says. 
“Chan?” you ask. 
“Oh, our boss,” the man carries on happily. “I’m Soonyoung, by the way.” 
You take his extended hand and give your own name in response. Soonyoung happily carries on with telling you all about the otters they have, including the name of each one. Then he offers to take you on a tour of the aquarium because of your interest. It’s too nice of an offer to turn down. It also further proves that you should not judge a book by its cover. Every inch of the aquarium is so masterfully cared for and every living being seems happy. That is, if a fish can also seem happy. The tanks aren’t overcrowded or dirty. And, you can’t explain it, but you can just tell they’re happy. Each person that they encounter seems to genuinely love their job. You’re not even sure why you’re paying such close attention. Or why you care so much. 
Truthfully, there’s always been something of a call to the ocean. A peace that comes over you when you’re near the water. It was enough to get you to move cities, figuring that would satisfy that need. The pull only got stronger. Plenty of people feel at peace surrounded by water, you reason, and don’t think further on it. You don’t consider that worrying about the conditions in an aquarium may not be normal. Don’t consider that most people don’t start getting moody when they’ve been separated from the ocean too long. Don’t consider that it really is only the ocean. Although sometimes a freshwater lake, when it’s big enough with plenty of fish in it, will fill up your cup, it never lasts as long. It also never works to alleviate your mood when you do something as simple as going into the pool. 
The trip around the aquarium with Soonyoung seems like exactly what you need. Until suddenly, it doesn’t. As he’s taking you through an exhibit area, a young man appears from behind a closed door marked as Staff Only. He’s got a dress shirt on with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His short dark hair highlights striking features. And, you think, he would be beautiful if it weren’t for the frown on his face. He looks entirely too serious for someone so young. He’s also much more dressed up than anyone else at the aquarium.
“Oh, there he is!” Soonyoung exclaims, causing the man to turn towards the two of you. His face softens a bit at seeing Soonyoung before studying you somewhat quizzically. 
“Soon,” he says with the air of someone exasperated at Soonyoung’s antics. 
“This is Chan, our boss,” Soonyoung carries on and your eyebrows fly into your hairline as he introduces you to his boss. 
Truthfully, Chan looks younger than Soonyoung in some ways. But, there’s a wisdom in his face that your new friend lacks. Like he’s lived a hundred lifetimes already. It catches you off guard. But, Chan extends his hand to shake yours and that’s when you feel it. A sudden surge of annoyance that lasts only as long as your hands are connected. If he feels anything, he doesn’t show it. His smile is friendly and it only confuses you further. 
A moment later, Chan excuses himself from the pair of you and Soonyoung leads you away to continue the tour. You can’t really shake the odd feeling you got from the handshake, though. When Soonyoung concludes his tour, you ask about opportunities to volunteer. There’s something about this place that feels like home and you’re not really sure what it is. Soonyoung’s face brightens. 
“Chan doesn’t believe in volunteers. Even if you only come in once a month, he pays you for your time and obviously waives the entrance fee so you can come visit even when you’re not working,” he says with a bright smile.
“Oh, I don’t need a job…” you start before he waves you off. 
“Leave me your contact information and I’ll pass it on. He coordinates everything himself and he can go over it all with you. I’m sure he’d be happy to have another animal lover around here,” Soonyoung says with a smile that you can’t ignore. You just met this man, why are you already incapable of saying no to him? 
“Do you have some paper?” you ask.
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Chan spends the rest of the day thinking about you after a simple handshake. Then, when Soonyoung tells him that you’re interested in helping out, his pulse races in a way that’s entirely foreign to him. He can’t remember the last time a human turned his world upside down with something so seemingly trivial. In fact, he was so focused on keeping his face neutral, he didn’t notice the look on your face in response to him. He’s too concerned with seeing you again to consider anything else. Too consumed by the need to unravel whatever mystery there is to you that he can’t seem to place. Honestly, Chan can’t remember the last time he felt anything even approaching this. Nothing makes him really feel in this way. Not anymore, at least. He finds himself counting down until your first shift.
Until it actually gets here, that is. 
You report to Chan’s office, just as he asks. He holds his breath as you cast your eyes around his office area. Wonders what you’re thinking when your gaze lingers on certain things within the office. For a second, Chan considers whether it seems human enough. It’s been nearly a year since anyone new joined the staff and he wonders if he’s gotten sloppy. Nothing in your face seems to give any sort of feeling away. It surprises Chan a bit that he can’t seem to read anything about you. When your eyes rest on him, he sees a flicker of something he can’t place. Something that looks an awful lot like annoyance. 
He confirms it when his hand accidentally grazes yours to hand over your new ID. It says volunteer since you insist on only being there when you have the time, but it’s a full ID anyway. That’s just how Chan does things. When his hand meets yours briefly, he gets the sharpest flash of irritation he’s ever felt. It’s confusing because it is definitely not his own emotion that he’s feeling. And that’s not something that Chan can remember happening before either. Not like this at least. 
Chan has powers, he knows that. He can, sometimes, tune into the emotions of others. It’s easiest when he’s trying to tune into a sea animal or someone at home in water. Back before Olympus fell, he was able to tune into the emotions or even the minds of all the creatures in the sea, like the sirens, sea nymphs, merpeople, and everything else you could imagine. Even then, he usually has to actively try to tap into those emotions. It’s not something that just…happens. Not when all he’s done is let his hand graze someone else’s. Not when he’s not actively trying to feel something. It shouldn’t be something that happens with a mere human, either. 
You, for your part, don’t seem to realize there’s anything out of the ordinary. Your face looks the same. The same annoyance that you’re trying your hardest to mask under a poor attempt at indifference. Trying to shake it off, Chan calls for Soonyoung to come into the office. But, that doesn’t make it any better. It’s worse, really, because your face immediately changes into one of genuine happiness. Soonyoung seems just as happy to see you and happy at the prospect of showing you around. To be fair, Soonyoung always seems happy when there’s someone new around for him to chat with. Still, your face lighting up for him frustrates Chan in a way he can’t explain. 
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Your first few times volunteering at the aquarium go really smoothly. Well, once you’re handed off to Soonyoung, it’s smooth. There’s just something about your new boss that you can’t really put your finger on. Seeing him causes annoyance to flare within you. It’s something deep that you can’t really explain and can’t recall feeling before. There’s no reason for you to dislike this man. He’s really just a man, which shouldn’t be enough on its own. Whenever he’s around, he’s perfectly friendly. It’s obvious that he cares deeply for every living thing within the aquarium. This is something he’s incredibly passionate about, which should endear him to you. Yet, it doesn’t. You can’t recall ever disliking a fellow animal lover until now. 
Thankfully, you don’t really have to deal with Chan very often. Soonyoung handles your training when you’re working, but everyone that works there seems kind. And everyone seems young. The place is full of bright-eyed 20-somethings who all genuinely seem to want to be there. It contributes to that little nagging feeling in that back of your mind that something is just…off. Not with anyone that works there apart from Chan, though.
Soonyoung seems delighted to see how quickly the otters warm up to you. Apparently, they can be a bit picky with new people. But, the first time you meet them, they all flock to you instead of their normal handler. Anyone else might be frustrated. Instead, he only thinks it’s cute that they seem to love you. Tells you that he thinks he means you're a good person. Apparently, he often judges people based on how the animals react. You both have that in common. It only seems to reinforce the point when this happens with each new enclosure you go to. None of the animals seem to treat you like a stranger. It’s more like they’re greeting an old friend. You can’t really explain that you feel the same way. Your brain periodically supplies a story for some of your new animal friends, too. It’s not the first time it’s happened and you figure it only makes sense in this setting. Your imagination is active and you love the sea creatures.
Each new visit to the aquarium seems somehow better than the last. Well, in most ways. You often feel Chan’s gaze on you before you even look over at him to check. And each time he is actually looking at you. There’s something that just sets your nerves on edge about it. Even the animals around you seem to react to the sudden surge of anger that courses through you. It’s a strong physical reaction without any clear reason that you can figure out. Yet, it’s the way you feel every time you sense his attention on you.
“You good?” Soonyoung asks, eyes cast down at your hands balled into fists. 
“Yeah, sorry,” you apologize, turning back to him. “What were you saying?” 
“What’s going on with you and Chan?” he asks skeptically. 
“Between Chan and me?” you ask with clear surprise.
“Yeah,” he says. “He spends half the time you’re here watching you and…” 
“He does, doesn’t he?” you ask, a little too loud. “What’s up with that?” 
“What’s up with your hatred for him?” he asks instead.
“I don’t know, I just get a bad feeling,” you say after a moment. “Do you like him?” 
“Do I like the boss that overpays me to hang out with animals all day?” he asks with a laugh. Then, he looks at your face and carries on. “Oh, you’re serious. Yeah, I love Chan. None of us really know him that well because he keeps his distance from the staff outside of work, mostly. But, he’s the best boss I can imagine having. I don’t ever get bad vibes off him.” 
“Huh,” is all you say before turning back to whatever Soonyoung is teaching you.
Your eyes catch on the mysterious aquarium owner once again and that anger flares. But, you realize that it’s something more complicated than anger. It’s far too complex an emotion to put a name too and definitely too complex for someone you barely know. 
It’s just odd you think, not for the first time, that someone seemingly so young is running an aquarium that doesn’t seem to be that busy. How is he affording to take care of the animals and pay his staff so well? How is someone that seems so unlikeable able to convince so many donors to give money when it could be better spent elsewhere?
The nagging voice in the back of your mind reminds you that you seem to be the only person that doesn’t love Chan. Everyone on the staff seems to love him. The few donors his staff have met also seem to only have good things to say. You have to consider the possibility that your feelings about him could be personal or that you’re seeing something that doesn’t impact anyone else. It’s still weird, though. Nothing about this business model should work. Is that a reason to hate someone you don’t actually know? You’re not sure.
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Chan speaks with a dolphin that he’s grown to trust. No, not Chan. Poseidon. He’s Poseidon again, in all his glory. And he’s asking the dolphin to find someone for him. He’s explaining where she might be and what to say to her when the dolphin finds her. Stressing how important it is that the dolphin is the one to find her because they’re not the only ones looking. There are others looking as well and Poseidon doesn’t want them to find her. It would be bad, he knows, if anyone but himself or someone working on his behalf were to discover the truth. He’s protecting her as much as he’s protecting himself. At least, that’s what his brain insists. Whether it’s true or not, well…
The scene blurs and shifts. Poseidon is once again by the sea and this time speaking to a giant squid instead of the dolphin. The squid tells him that the woman has been found. That the dolphin succeeded and is currently speaking to her. That brings Poseidon a small sense of relief. Surely, when she understands the situation, she’ll be not only willing to come home but happy to do so. Nothing can keep them separated any longer. They are truly meant to be. 
Again, the scene blurs and shifts. This time, Poseidon sits on his throne, trident in hand, while one of his brother’s messengers kneels before him. When she rises, she delivers the message that Zeus has requested for Poseidon and his bride-to-be to join himself and Hera for an upcoming event. That’s not good, Poseidon thinks, not good at all. Surely his brother isn’t fully aware of the situation and yet he sends his messengers with invitations like this. Just as Poseidon prepares himself to make an excuse, the door to the room opens. Usually, he doesn’t allow interruptions, as his guards well know. But, the sight of his love walking through with her head held high keeps him from scolding the guards. He cannot believe that she’s back and walking in as if nothing happened. As if it hasn’t been weeks since they last saw each other. He got word she was coming back, but had not dared to hope for this.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt, my love, but I heard your brother had sent an invitation,” she begins. The messenger won’t notice the hesitation or the emotions that pour off of her because she doesn’t have that gift. Poseidon feels it, though. It doesn’t put him at ease
“It’s fine. You are always welcome to hear anything shared here with me,” he says quickly. 
She turns to the messenger with her signature soft smile. “I would still apologize for interrupting your message. However, I heard that you were here with an invitation. I fear that my darling may have declined as I was recently suffering an illness.” 
“Yes, that is what I was about to do,” Poseidon agrees.
“There is no need for that as I have told you that I am feeling much better now,” she says with a brief, but calculated, smile at Poseidon. She returns to the messenger. “Please inform Zeus that we would be delighted to join him.” 
“I am thankful to hear you’re feeling better and to…see you with my own eyes,” the messenger says slightly suspiciously. 
“I am also thankful that I will get to see Hera. After all, we have so much to discuss with the upcoming wedding,” his bride-to-be says. 
With pleasant goodbyes, the messenger takes her leave and Poseidon excuses the guards remaining in the chamber. He indicates that his bride should follow him to a much smaller room off to the side so that they can speak. After all, there is so much to discuss after her running away and only to finally return. Yes, she had indicated to the messenger that she intended to go through with the wedding, but Poseidon needs answers. He needs to know why she left and to impress upon her that she could not do something like that again. 
Chan wakes up in the early hours of the morning in a cold sweat from the most vivid dream he’s had in centuries. The fact that a dream lingers at all is strange on its own. He doesn’t dream. Not anymore, at least. When he does, the subject is usually something inane and the remnants of it are gone by the time he’s fully awake. This dream is both vivid and lingering, seared into the back of his eyelids like it may never leave him. Perhaps it is because it’s not just a dream.
There’s a lot to Chan’s past that he wants to forget and for good reason. When he was one of the gods of Olympus, he made a lot of decisions that he wouldn’t make now. Or, he likes to think he wouldn’t make the same decisions now. It’s hard to remember the feeling of the weight of the world so many years later. But, he knows he did a lot of things in the interest of finding the greater good. Something that ruined some of his closest relationships and clearly still haunts him today. 
Which leads him to this dream. A dream of Amphitrite. The legends about the gods of Olympus over the years have gotten a lot of information both right and wrong. Unfortunately, the legend of Poseidon and Amphitrite seems mostly right, at least to Chan. She was the one true love of his life. The only being in the entire universe that he actually wanted to spend an eternity with. And he had not treated her the way he should have. Hadn’t appreciated her and respected her autonomy the way he should have. That’s something he thinks about now, as he continues to mature and evolve to understand all the mistakes he made once upon a time. He knows that the way he tried to hold onto her was wrong and that he worried entirely too much about what the other Olympians would think if he lost her. 
There’s also a part of him that lingers on the way she looked in the dream. He remembers that conversation because it actually happened. But, he’s not sure if he’s actually remembering the way she looked or the way he felt a tightness to his chest. That could just as easily be him looking back on the interaction through a different lens. There are so many things he wishes he could go back and change with her. So many things he wishes he could say. Mostly, even though he loved her more than he even loved himself, he wishes he could go back and give her the chance to walk away. To leave him without any sort of reprisal from the other Olympians. 
After all these years, he regrets how their relationship went. It wasn’t love when someone didn’t have options. He knows that he can’t change the past. He knows that he can’t even ask for forgiveness. It’s part of why he keeps himself from getting too close to anyone now, he thinks. As a sort of penance for forcing the only one he ever loved into a marriage that he can’t say that she wanted. Of course, she told him when she came back it was because she wanted to. Insisted that she was just nervous to be thrust into such a spotlight by his side. Says that she was worried because he had other relationships with other people and she saw how it affected other Olympians, like Hera with Zeus. That wasn’t who she ever wanted to turn into. Chan took her at what she said. It was only after he lost her that he realized it may not have been the truth. Their love may not have been the great story that he created in his head. 
He knows that he won’t be able to fall back to sleep, so he resigns himself to starting his day. After he gets ready, he sits down with a cup of coffee and his schedule for the aquarium. Today is the once per month visit from the local marine veterinarians. Although miraculously, it seems the animals never need much care, the vets still come in every month. They collect samples and run their tests to ensure that everything is going well as a general health study. They have staff that come over more frequently for some of the animals that need more consistent care. It’s also an excellent place to study since Chan allows them such complete access. 
That monthly visit isn’t what really catches his eye. Your name is on the schedule and Soonyoung has you listed as the person who will be working with the vets to make sure they have the help they need. It’s standard, really, and Chan knows Soonyoung will be around as well. That man can never ignore a chance to chat with anyone that comes through regularly. Chan also knows that Soonyoung trusts you. There’s just something about your name that sends his stomach lurching without an explanation. Sure, you haven’t exactly been the warmest in the interactions with Chan, but you’re good at the jobs assigned. It’s like there’s something just on the edge of his consciousness about you. Something just out of reach. A connection that he should be able to make and can’t. At least, not yet. 
Even though he’s going to be very early, he sets off for the aquarium and tries to shake the feeling that there’s something about you he should see. He’s never been very good when he can’t solve a problem. You may present his most complex puzzle yet. 
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It’s one of the best days since you first started volunteering at the aquarium. Somehow this is the first time you’ve gotten to see the vets there for a full day and it even makes you extend your own shift. Well, it’s partially influenced by Soonyoung’s offer to buy dinner if you’re still there when he gets finished. Mostly, though, you’re just fascinated watching the vets do their work. It’s interesting to see how willing the animals are to be still for tests and how it seems like they know what to expect. You know that animals are smart and they can learn. There’s something a little different about this, though. Not only do they seem to actually see the veterinarians, but they also actively wait their turns to be seen. 
At the end of the day, you’re a little tired and feeling very accomplished at the same time. Maybe all of Soonyoung’s energy is actually infectious because you find that you’re ready to go get dinner with your friend after work. His presence is somehow calming to you even in all of the chaos. Once you make sure everything is done, you change into the spare clothes you have with you. The last thing you want is to smell like fish and whatever else got on you over the course of the day. Then, you go to find your friend. 
“Hey, are you ready for dinner?” you ask without realizing that he’s standing with Chan.
“You guys have plans?” Chan asks with curiosity, looking from you back to Soonyoung.
Soonyoung looks incredibly apologetic. “I’m so sorry, but I completely forgot that it’s roomies night in and I can’t skip it because I missed the last one.” 
“Oh, that’s fine,” you say quickly and wave it off. 
“You should come! We always have a bunch of appetizers and stuff. I can’t remember what movie it is tonight, but it’ll be fun!” he says, as enthusiastic as ever. “I know I offered to buy dinner tonight…” 
“I appreciate it, Soonie, but I think I’m just going to get dinner and go home,” you say. “I’m going to hold you to your dinner offer, though.” 
“I was actually just about to go get something to eat myself,” Chan interrupts and you narrow your eyes. “I would be happy to get dinner for you as well as a thanks for everything you’ve been doing here.” 
“I don’t want to make…” you start, only to have Soonyoung cut across you.
“That’s so nice of you, Chan,” he says and turns to you. “You should go! He’s got the best taste in restaurants. I still think about the last time he took all the staff out.” 
“It’s really fine, I can just get something on my way home,” you say. 
“I insist,” Chan says with something unreadable on his face. “Please. Let me say thank you for jumping in so completely.” 
“Yeah, what reason could you have to say no?” Soonyoung asks with a smirk. That’s the other thing about your new friend. He can be such a shithead when he wants to be. Of course he’s using this to needle you about your dislike of the boss. It comes up at least once every time you’re at the aquarium (and plenty of times when you’re texting outside of work).
You sigh, knowing that there’s no easy way to get out of this. “Okay, let me just get my things and I’ll meet you at the entrance.” 
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The walk from the aquarium to Chan’s favorite restaurant is outwardly quiet. It’s not entirely uncomfortable to walk in silence with you. Or, it wouldn’t be if your emotions weren’t screaming into the silence. The general annoyance that seems to be present any time Chan is in the same space as  you comes through loudest. There’s more now that it’s just the two of you outside of work now, too. He feels a kind of anger and distrust coming off of you along with confusion about why you feel any of these emotions. It takes time to separate that as your own confusion because Chan’s also confused. The two of you barely interact at work and yet your distaste for him rolls off of you in violent waves, like an angry ocean. It’s the only time he’s felt something like this from someone at work. Everyone else seems to like him at the very least. Something about you is very different. 
Thankfully, it’s harder for Chan to sense you once you get into the restaurant. It’s a little busier since it’s a weekend, but you still get seated right away. If you’re impressed with how Chan greets the staff like old friends, you don’t show it. Just sit down in the chair and accept the menu with a smile before disappearing behind it. Suddenly, this doesn’t really seem like the best idea. What does it matter if you don’t like him? 
“You don’t like me,” Chan announces a second later. He never has been able to let a mystery go unsolved. He’s also always prided himself on being able to work out a puzzle. He tries not to ever be as arrogant as his brother, though. 
That makes you peer across the table at him. When he thinks you’re not going to answer, you blurt out: “No, I don’t,” and seem genuinely surprised.
Chan chuckles and looks back at the menu. “At least you admitted it.” 
“I really don’t know why I just said that,” you carry on, setting your menu down. 
“Is it not true?” Chan asks. 
“No,” you say and that makes Chan raise his eyebrows. “I mean, it is true. I don’t really like you. I’m just not sure why…”
“Why you said it? Or why you don’t like me?” he presses.
“Both,” you say with a shrug. 
“Can I ask you something?” he wonders.
“You can,” you say. “I’m not gonna promise to answer if I don’t want to.” 
“That’s fair,” Chan says with a smile. “Why do you volunteer at the aquarium if you don’t like me?” 
“I like to be around the animals,” you say immediately. “I feel at peace.”
“You misunderstood part of what I was asking,” he says. Your eyes are wide. “Why not let me pay you if you don’t like me? You could be making money instead of offering your time for free.” 
That actually makes you laugh. Not a fake polite laugh, one of the real laughs he hears when Soonyoung gets you going. It’s a beautiful sound and it instantly reminds Chan of something. Or someone. He’s not really sure beyond wanting to hear it again. 
“You’re kind of funny. I’ll give you that,” you concede. 
“I’m glad you think so,” he says, eyes still glued to you. 
“I don’t know why it doesn’t feel right to take money for working at the aquarium. It just doesn’t,” you shrug. “It’s the first time in my life that I’ve ever really felt like I was where I’m supposed to be and I probably sound crazy saying it. But, I get to the aquarium and my brain gets quiet and it’s like a weight lifts off my chest.”
“You don’t sound crazy,” is all Chan can say for a second. 
He’s looking at you differently now and he’s not even concerned if you realize it. It’s like something clicks for him. Like he finally pinpoints what it is about you. Of course he didn’t realize at first. It’s so unbelievably uncommon that he never thought to look. But, there’s no denying it. The way you are around the aquarium, the way you seem to slot in like you’ve been there all along, the way he can read your emotions without trying. 
This isn’t your first life. He’s only seen it a handful of times since Olympus fell. The main gods of Olympus, like himself, were able to seek refuge on Earth. Other beings were not so lucky. Many managed one or two reincarnations, but more still just…ceased to exist. It’s something he and some of the others spent a lot of time working through in the beginning. It’s been over two hundred years since Chan came across a reincarnated soul. Yet, here you are. Sitting before him. There’s no mistaking it. Once upon a time, you had been a sea nymph in Olympus. Everything clicks into place when he acknowledges that. He knows the sea nymphs as well as he knows himself. It seems impossible that he wouldn’t recognize all the signs and mannerisms. Then again, he hasn’t come across a reincarnated sea nymph in a very long time. Centuries. 
“Are you okay?” you ask after a few moments. 
“Yeah, sorry,” he says and shakes his head. This isn’t the place to try to process this. “I just haven’t met anyone that could relate to the way I feel in a long time.” 
“You don’t think I’m crazy?” you ask, voice thick with hope. It’s the first time he’s been around you without feeling any negative emotions. 
“Not at all,” he assures you. “I should have known that you understood as well. I felt like you were a kindred spirit, but…”
“I’ve been cold?” you offer with a light laugh. 
“Cautious, I would say,” he disagrees. 
“Maybe we should just start over,” you suggest and that makes Chan smile. 
Dinner actually gets much livelier from there on out. Realizing your past allows Chan to entirely change his approach. Without saying anything before you’re ready, he lets his guard down. In doing so, he hopes that some part of you will realize the connection runs deep. It seems to work, even if it’s only a little. Curiosity becomes the most prominent emotion and he capitalizes on it. 
Chan is able to suggest some of the dishes that he really likes before you ask if you can just get a few things and share them. You’re asking questions about the aquarium and his life that he tries to answer in a way that sounds honest without inviting follow up questions. Instead, he finds himself wanting to know more about you. Despite your initial reluctance to talk too much about yourself, he gets you to open up to his questions. Each answer you give draws him in further. Gives more of a glimpse into you as a person. Nothing feels too small to learn. He wants to map each of your reactions to things you actually love to things that seem difficult to speak about. 
Before either of you realizes it, it’s been over two hours and the restaurant is starting to wind down. Of course, nobody rushes you since Chan knows everyone there by name. But, you still insist it’s probably best to head out. Surprisingly, he’s still only picking up on warmer emotions from you now and maybe that makes him a little bolder. 
“There’s this really great ice cream shop just a little walk that way,” he says as you’re exiting the restaurant. 
The sideways look you give him leaves him wondering if he’s misread the situation. Then, you’re smiling like you know a secret. “I’m shocked you eat dessert.” 
“Are you…are you checking me out?” he splutters. Very little manages to catch him off guard and you have him stumbling over a simple question. 
Without answering, you just laugh and start walking in the direction he indicated. When he doesn’t immediately follow, you look over your shoulder and call out to him. “Well? I thought we were getting ice cream.”
“You can’t just say shit like that and expect…” he starts as he hurries to catch up with you.
“Expect what?” you ask, actually poking out at his side. “I would bet my entire life savings that I’m not the first person to check you out.”
“Oh, so you were checking me out,” he says like he’s just won. 
“I think that’s only fair with how many times I’ve already caught you checking me out,” you fire back, effectively wiping the smug look of Chan’s face. 
It’s been a long time since someone challenged him the way you seem to. Now that you’re talking openly, it feels like he’s known you for years. There’s a comfort that he can’t remember feeling in centuries. It feels like you just implicitly understand a piece of them that he tries to hide in any other situation. 
Something whispers from the back of his mind, like a tickle of familiarity. He ignores it, though, in favor of getting to know the incredibly interesting person before him that doesn’t seem to hate him anymore. 
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After having dinner with Chan, you start to look forward to your shifts for an entirely different reason. Yes, you still get the peace that comes along with being around so many beautiful animals and so much water. You also get to feel the pleasant shift of feelings when Chan is around. Instead of feeling like something gnaws at your consciousness, now you feel a warmth coursing through your body. It’s a little strange, too, because it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. 
Soonyoung notices the way you and Chan gravitate towards each other now and says nothing despite the knowing smile. You don’t have to ask him to know that he thinks it’s down to him insisting you get dinner together. He doesn’t comment, though, and you’re not going to give him the satisfaction. It’s hard to stop yourself from smiling, even when that makes Soonyoung smile even harder. It’s like he wants all the details of something that you don’t have many details on. At least, not at first. 
Hanging out with Chan outside of the aquarium becomes a regular thing, even on the days that you don’t go in. Each of you shows the other your favorite places in the area and you find yourself looking forward to that time more than anything else. Once or twice, you even consider asking Chan if he’s got a more full time position for you at the aquarium. You don’t quite realize you’re not living fully until something like this happens and so much more of life opens up before you. For now, though, you’ll settle for dragging him to a couple of food trucks that you love. He looks entirely out of place in his slacks and dress shirt, though at least he’s rolled up his sleeves. 
“So when are you going to come work with us full time,” he asks after sitting down with his food in front of him. He doesn’t ask you to work for him. Even his phrasing is considerate.
“Oh, well, I…” you stutter out.
“You don’t have to, of course,” he assures you. “I’ve just never met anyone that’s better at it than you and you’re not even there that often” 
“I have been considering it,” you admit. 
“What’s holding you back?” he asks. 
You take a bite to give yourself a minute to think about the answer to that. What is holding you back? Admittedly, you’ve never felt more at ease anywhere else. It’s increasingly harder to leave every time your shift is over. You look forward to when the next one will be. Have even added extra shifts when you can fit them in. There’s a part of you that also looks forward to seeing Chan. Although, you know that you could see him whenever you wanted. He always seems to make time for you. 
“I don’t know,” you finally say.
“Well, there’s a position waiting for you if you ever want it,” he says with a look on his face that you can’t quite read. 
“Why are you so patient with me?” you ask.
“Because we understand each other,” he answers a little too quickly. 
“It’s more than that,” you press, feeling, for the first time, like he’s keeping something from you. 
Chan sighs and sets his food down. “It is, but this isn’t the place to discuss it.” 
That catches you a little off guard. Thinking that there was more to the story and having him admit it so easily were two different things. “You’re not secretly in love with me or something, are you?”
He laughs at the look on your face and it eases a little of the tension. “I don’t think it’s a secret that I love being around you.” 
“No, I guess that’s true,” you say with your own laugh. 
“You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I’ll tell you when we finish eating and we can leave. This kind of thing…well, it’s best to say to you somewhere that’s not so out in the open.”
That announcement surprises you, but it also excites you a little. It’s difficult not to rush through dinner, a fact that Chan picks up on and laughs about. Makes a joke about wanting to get him alone that has color rising on your cheeks. There’s an air of confidence about him despite whatever he’s going to share with you. It makes it a little easier for you to also be calm because it can’t be that bad. If it were bad, he would not seem so confident. 
After dinner, and a short back and forth, he takes you back to his apartment, which includes walking by the aquarium. Somehow, you’re still much more nervous than he seems to be. It seems like the most natural thing in the world for him to invite you back to see where he lives. He also seems quick to assure you that it’s not that he’s trying to get you alone. It just needs to be a space that is actually private. 
Despite any better judgment you may have, your curiosity is piqued. What is it that he has to say to you that others can’t overhear? Is he about to admit some crazy belief? Or tell you that somehow you were destined to meet? You’re not really sure what sort of comment might come once the two of you are alone, but you’re distracted the second you step into his apartment. It’s amazingly decorated. It feels both cozy and modern at the same time. It also feels so impossibly like him and the ocean combined into one. Maybe that’s saying the same thing. He does give you the impression of the water sometimes. 
Being inside of Chan’s personal space also feels surprisingly natural. He disappears off into the kitchen without a second thought and allows you to look around the space. When he returns, it’s with a drink for you as he encourages you to take a seat on his couch. It’s the most comfortable couch you’ve ever sat down on.
“How much do you know about the Gods of Olympus?” he asks without any preamble. Thankfully, you haven’t taken a drink yet. Otherwise, you might have spit it out.
“Like the stuff from mythology?” you ask. It’s so unexpected.
A little voice whispers in the back of your head asking if it’s really that unexpected. The truth is: you’ve always been incredibly fascinated by the myths. There’s a draw to them almost to the point of getting lost in them. But, are you going to admit that you’ve read all the books you could find and watched all the shows or movies? It’s only fantasy, really, when you think about it. You’ve bared a lot of your soul to Chan without meaning to. You’re not sure you want him to laugh at you about this. That same little voice comes back to ask if he would laugh. You’re not so sure.
“Not exactly,” he says with a knowing laugh. “You consume it though, don’t you? I can see it on your face.” 
“I - well, lots of people do, don’t they?” you ask noncommittally. 
“Not like you, I’d bet,” he answers, unbothered. 
“I guess it’s a bit of a guilty pleasure,” you finally admit. 
“I think it’s more than that,” Chan presses. 
“How can it be? They’re just myths after all,” you say.
“Do you believe that?” he asks and it’s like he’s challenging every one of your long held notions. 
“Chan, what did you want to tell me?” you ask.
“Let me tell you about Olympus as I remember it,” he says. 
“As you…remember it,” you say slowly. “Chan, what…”
“Just hear me out and let me tell you a story. You can decide afterwards if I’m crazy or if it makes everything fall into place,” he says. 
And he does tell you a story. It’s a story about the Gods of Olympus with more information thrown in than you’ve ever read in any story or seen in any movie. It’s at once more fantastical and somehow more believable than anything. There are parts that you recognize. Parts that seem to line up with the stories. And there are parts that feel entirely new. Parts that are deeply emotional and clearly difficult for Chan to say. You delight in the way his face lights up when he talks about the parties or living amongst the sea animals. Completely accept it at face value when he tells you about how his scouts used to be dolphins and how much he misses that. Your heart breaks when he talks about the fights with his siblings and the other Olympians. It all feels like you’re walking along beside him in his stories. 
It’s insane to think that any of this could be real. You keep telling yourself as you listen to the stories. But, it’s hard to remember that when you see the look on Chan’s face. There’s fondness when he talks about some of the sillier memories. Like he can’t believe that anyone was ever that ridiculous. There’s genuine pain as he tries to get through the more complicated parts. When it comes time to tell you about how Olympus fell, he chokes up. 
You believe him. It’s like something shifts and you can tell that he’s not crazy. He’s not delusional. He’s not on some crazy conspiracy theory. He was Poseidon once upon a time. The feelings of calm that you feel every time you walk into the aquarium wash over you. Like this is the only thing that’s ever made sense. That should be a little disorienting to take in all that information. Instead it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
Chan isn’t even done talking when you lean over and press your lips against his. You’re not even sure why you do it or if it’s the right thing to do. When you go to pull away, he puts his hand behind your head and holds you against him. Kisses you breathless like nobody has ever kissed you before. It feels instantly familiar and new all at the same time. Like something you may have done before. But, it also sends sparks flying through your entire body. 
“So, should I carry on with telling you how you fit into all of this?” he asks when the two of you break apart from the kiss. 
“Me?” you ask, still recovering from the impulsive act of kissing him. 
“Yes, you,” he says with a soft smile. 
“I’m just a person lucky enough to meet an actual god, what could I…” you start.
“You’re not just a person,” he contradicts with a frown.
“I’m not trying to diminish myself or anything,” you assure him, but he still shakes his head.
“Can I talk?” he asks without any exasperation, though you may deserve it. You just nod. “You’re not just a person. You’re…well, I’m not sure how it works, really. I’ve come across it so infrequently. You have the reincarnated soul of a sea nymph within you. Possibly even one I encountered in another life.” 
“How can that be?” you ask with wide eyes. “No, I’m just a normal person, I…” 
“If you think about it, it actually makes perfect sense,” he says and carries on.
It sounds so simple when he outlines it for you. He asks you about your connection with the ocean, talks about your instant familiarity with the aquarium and how at peace you feel. Points out that you never feel at peace in a swimming pool, though you’re sure you’ve never said that to him. He talks about your mood shifting when you’re away from the water for too long or the way that everything about the water just seems easier. He even laughs when you admit that once when you were on vacation, a dolphin came right up to you in the ocean and seemed like it wanted your attention. It’s also not the only time something like that happened. 
Everything starts to fall into place. It’s like decoding the last little cypher of your life up until that point and showing you memories in a different light. You wonder if you’ll be able to remember anything from being a sea nymph and Chan looks apologetic when he says he doesn’t think it’ll work like that. But, he admits he’s never gotten close enough to another reincarnated soul like this to fully be able to answer it. The excitement drowns out a small voice in the back of your head that’s urging you to move cautiously. Urging you to consider if all of this really sounds right. 
You can’t really help the way your bodies seem to be drawn to each other. Many more kisses follow now that the invisible barrier seems broken. When he’s not kissing you, Chan runs his hands along whatever part of you that he can reach. 
Eventually, you don’t really want to talk. It seems absentminded, the way that Chan runs his fingers along your arm or squeezes your thigh. It’s driving you insane, though, and you need to know if he’s feeling as bothered as you are. 
“How much are you paying attention to this conversation?” you ask.
“Uh…” he says, eyes widening a bit at the question. It’s the first time he’s looked remotely out of control. 
“You’re driving me crazy,” you whine and look at his hand gripping your thigh. 
That causes his look to change entirely. He’s not out of control anymore. Now he looks a bit smug. “Oh, I’m driving you crazy?”
“Yes,” you admit without a second thought.
“I thought you weren’t even sure if you liked me?” he presses and you huff out a breath.
“I already kissed you, Chan. I think it’s clear I’m not on the fence anymore,” you say.
“Maybe I should show you my bedroom,” he says and stands.
You take his outstretched hand without hesitation. “Finally.” 
The two of you get through the doorway into his bedroom and he doesn’t even bother pretending to give you a tour. He only turns around to face you, crowding your space and forcing you back into the doorframe. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you hard. It’s not desperate, it’s perfectly controlled. Nobody has ever kissed you like this before. At least nobody that you can remember. His body presses tight against yours until you’re gasping for breath. Still, he doesn’t let you relax. He’s proving a point. If you thought he was driving you crazy earlier, it’s nothing to this. 
You gasp into his mouth when he moves a hand to hitch one of your legs around his hip. Gasp again when he does the same to your other leg and he’s balancing you against the doorframe. It seems impossible that he’s this strong. Maybe that’s part of being a god because he also barely seems to lose his breath as he keeps kissing you. You’re not usually so content to let someone else lead, but it’s so easy with him. It helps that nothing is frantic. Even though he’s driving you crazy, you love that it doesn’t feel rushed. Love that he’s really taking his time with you.
It could be minutes that Chan kisses you or it could be hours and you’re not really sure if you would know the difference. When he sets you down, it feels like an immediate loss. At least until he pulls you towards the bed. Only his eyes give away how badly he wants you. They’re dark with lust that you’re sure your own eyes reflect back at him. 
“Is this still okay?” he asks, voice thick with desire. You nod. “I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes, Chan. I want this,” you assure him. 
Thankfully it’s the only reassurance that he needs. He gently pushes you back onto his bed and immediately gets to work pulling your clothing off you. His eyes drink in every mark on your body and for the first time, you’re not self conscious. You don’t feel like there’s something wrong with you and it has nothing to do with the way he looks at you. Though, it doesn’t hurt that his desire only grows as he peels your clothing off. No, there’s just this inexplicable comfort with him. That voice in the back of your head quiets. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re so in the moment or because this is actually right. You’re not really sure it matters. 
When Chan steps back from you, you have the briefest moment of insecurity. It’s gone the next moment when he starts to undo the buttons on his shirt. Actually, your entire mind goes blank. If Chan was beautiful with clothes on, it’s nothing to seeing him removing his shirt. You know that he can change his appearance at will and know that it’s how he’s fit into places this long. So, you know that it might not be entirely him, but you’re not sure you care. Your eyes travel over the scars he still has. Probably remnants of real scars over the years. Somehow the imperfections make him more perfect in your eyes. You’re so caught up in looking at the scars that you miss him removing the rest of his clothing until he’s approaching you.
“Sit back,” he instructs.
You do as he asks without even thinking twice about it. That, at least, makes a voice stir in the back of your mind. Makes you wonder why you’re so content to do as he asks. When he climbs onto the bed and settles between your legs, the voice goes quiet again. He peppers up your leg and down the other with feather light kisses. He doesn’t draw out the build up, though. 
Chan runs a finger carefully through your folds and it makes you shudder. He watches your body carefully as he does it again, like he’s trying to map your reactions to everything. Like he wants to know exactly how to make you come undone. It’s such a simple action that works you up. When he licks into your pussy, you think it’s your new favorite feeling. It makes your entire brain go fuzzy. You don’t even realize that you’re arching your back until one of his hands snakes up your stomach to press you back into place. 
It’s almost too much, the way he works you over. He’s constantly changing the pace and his movements. His mouth moves up to suck on your clit and his finger moves down to pump into your pussy in lazy motions. The contrast of the movements makes you squirm. When you feel like you’re getting close to an orgasm, he switches it up again and pulls you back from the edge. Over and over again. He keeps switching up his attention every time you feel yourself getting close. 
“Chan, oh my fucking god,” you groan. “I’m going to die if you don’t let me come.” 
“Well, you got one thing right,” he says, pulling away from your pussy. “I am a god.”
“I hate you,” you say without any heat.
He pulls himself up your body so that he’s hovering over you, entirely too close. You can see the way your juices cover his lips. He eyes you greedily and it’s the hottest thing in the world. It’s even hotter when he lets you pull him down on top of you and kiss him. You moan into his mouth when he ruts his hard length against your thigh. 
When he pulls back, you know that you lost whatever game you’re playing. “Doesn’t seem like you hate me.” 
“Just please fuck me,” you say, completely breathless. 
“Anything you want,” he says. 
You gasp when he leans forward again to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. Everything about him seems so in control. Yet, you can feel how much he wants you, too. It’s obvious that you’re not alone in wanting this and that he’s just better at controlling the situation. 
Somehow, as he’s kissing you, he manages to spread your legs apart underneath him. It’s embarrassing the way you chase his lips when he pulls back. Or it would be if you didn’t meet his eyes to see all the desire reflecting back at you. He repositions so that he’s between your legs again and lines himself up at your entrance. Chan runs his tip through your folds while he watches for your reaction. It’s all you can do to stop yourself from wiggling to urge him to work faster. Nothing he does is fast, though, and why would this be any different. Slowly, he presses himself into you. Even as you’re begging him for more, he inches into you instead of snapping his hips forward. 
Finally, after what seems like minutes (and is probably only seconds), he’s fully buried and it’s the best feeling in the world. Your fingertips dig into his shoulders as he adjusts his position. Then, he pulls almost all the way about before snapping back in and your mind goes blank again. Like nothing else exists apart from the two of you, the sound of his skin on yours, and the words shared between you. Praise spills from Chan’s lips as you’re just asking for more and more of him. 
This time, he doesn’t bring you right to the edge only to pull you back. He picks up his pace and has you coming so hard that you see stars without warning. You’re so thankful that you don’t immediately realize that he doesn’t pull out of you. He stills himself inside you and peppers gentle kisses all over your face as you work through the orgasm. 
He’s definitely not so gentle once the aftershocks work through your body. 
In one motion, he has you in his arms and in a completely different position. It’s a level of strength and speed you’re not expecting. You’re sitting up now and about to protest that you don’t have the energy to fuck him like this, when he does the work for you. Even though you’re straddling his lap, he plants his feet and thrusts into you. It’s a slightly slower pace than you’re expecting. Just enough that you feel the tension building, but not enough for it to do anything. At least for you. You’re not sure about Chan. 
You can’t help it. All you want to do is kiss him so that he knows how good this feels. Not that he really needs more of an indication. You think he can probably read your body pretty well. The first time with someone new is usually awkward. This has been anything but. He knows exactly what you need and just how far he can push you before it’s too much.
And that really does seem true. You’re just about to go into overstimulated territory when he changes the position again. You get the briefest of breaks for him to settle behind you. It could be as innocent as cuddling until he hikes your leg up and presses his length into you without warning.
“Chan, jesus fuck,” you cry out. 
“You’re being so good for me, baby,” he coos into your ear. “Can you be good for just a little longer?”
“Yes,” you pant. 
“Even if I fuck you hard?” he asks, experimentally picking up his pace.
“Yes, please, just…fuck,” you yell out as he snaps into you harder.
“So perfect,” he murmurs into your skin. 
His thrusts immediately get faster and you can tell he’s ready to stop dragging it out. He’s still doing more than his share of the work and it’s insane to realize how much stamina he seems to have. The new angle allows him to hit you deeper than before. You’re already so worked up that it’s not long before he’s pushing you into your second orgasm. This time, he follows right behind you, erratically thrusting as his breath stutters by your ear. 
He collapses behind you, but still holds you close against his chest. Your breathing matches his without even thinking about it. Neither one of you really needs to say anything to know that it was something completely unexpected. You can’t remember ever having better sex than with him. Leave it to Chan to ruin you for anyone else that could possibly try to come after him.
Eventually, Chan pulls himself out and off the bed. He holds out his hand to help you into the bathroom with him. You make a joke about how you don’t have another round in you and his smile is instant. His features go soft when he says he just wants to help you clean up. 
(That doesn’t hold true for the next morning since he insists you should sleep over. You may be incredibly sore afterwards. You also know that you don’t care. In that moment, you think you would let Chan fuck you senseless for the rest of your life without complaining. Who cares if you’re a little sore? You’ve never felt so connected to someone in your entire life. And he just happens to be one of the gods of Olympus.)
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Things seem to fall into place quickly for you and Chan after he shares his past with you. It’s like the last two puzzle pieces in an absurdly complicated puzzle. One of those ones where the pieces aren’t in the standard square shapes. Yet, now that you’re perfectly slotted together, it’s like you’ve been that way your whole lives. The two of you are together more often than you’re not. Late nights exploring or staying up until the early hours of the morning talking. Lazy mornings wrapped up in the covers of the bed (where you actually get Chan to spend more time away from the aquarium than he ever has before). Chan doesn’t even really have time to overthink anything.
His biggest win comes when you finally admit that you’re ready to leave your boring job and come to work at the aquarium full time. That only takes a few weeks after he tells you that you were a sea nymph in a former life. He’s still even a little at the complete lack of pushback on it. You accept it just as easily as you accept that he was Poseidon once upon a time. And you’re not accepting it in the way someone does to pacify a crazy person. That much is clear with how much more time you spend anywhere that Chan is. Somehow, the rest of Chan’s staff doesn’t even seem to comment on how quickly you become inseparable. Soonyoung seems to be smiling even more than usual (a feat Chan didn’t think possible). But, otherwise everyone just accepts the new normal. Everyone seems thrilled to have you around more permanently and that makes Chan’s heart constrict. 
He doesn’t have time to think about any of it. Until he does, very suddenly, think about all the feelings you bring up in him.
Chan is careful with relationships. He’s friendly with his staff, but they’re not really friends (despite Soonyoung’s best efforts). He doesn’t get to know anyone at any of the places he shops or have any hobbies where he interacts with people. It can get lonely if Chan thinks too closely about it, but what is the alternative? People’s lives are finite, measurable. Chan’s is not. At least, it hasn’t been yet. There are no signs he’s slowing down over the many centuries he’s been through. Then there’s you. You who are very much human. Though, it’s been a long time since he’s come across another reincarnated Olympian. There isn’t a rule book for how those lives go and there’s never been one that Chan stuck by long enough to find out. 
The real question, though, is whether he’s willing to stick around this time to see how it works. Is he willing to risk everything only to figure out that you’re merely a mortal? That you’re going to fall victim, if you’re lucky, to the curse all humans succumb to? That’s if you’re lucky enough to live to old age and something else doesn’t happen before then. Human life is so fragile. It’s a lot to process. More so since he’s not really talking to you about how he’s feeling. 
You notice. Of course you notice. Chan starts to get a little more distant as weeks turn into months. He’s still physically present with you and he still tries to act like everything is fine. But, he can feel it in the shift of your moods. Doubt creeps in and he gets snippets of your feelings or even your thoughts. It isn’t fair and he knows that it’s not. He knows he has to talk to you instead of just acting like everything is normal. 
“Are you ready to talk to me yet?” you ask one evening when you’re sitting on his couch with your feet in his lap. 
He stops scrolling through something on his phone and looks over at you. Somehow, you always seem to know when it’s best to apply just a little pressure. Knows his moods and senses when he’s ready to talk about something. There’s no use in acting like he doesn’t know what you mean.
“It’s nothing you’ve done,” he starts and you smile.
“Oh, I know that,” you assure him. That makes him laugh. It’s you all over. 
“It’s just…I don’t usually let myself get close to anyone,” he starts and your eyebrows knit in confusion.
“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” you say with an attempt at a joke, though it doesn’t quite land.
“I think we both know you’re special,” he says quickly to reassure you. “It’s just…well, there’s a reason for that. Human life is so fleeting.”
“Ah, yes,” you say with a wry smile, “because you’re ancient.”
“Enough,” he chastises without any real heat. 
“Sorry,” you say and throw up your arms.
“I am kind of ancient, though. Not in this body since I’m always changing forms, but in mind. I’ve been around a long time and you…” he says and trails off.
“You’re so sure I have an expiration date?” you ask.
“You’re human,” he says simply.
“And also have the soul of a reincarnated sea nymph,” you remind him. As if he could ever forget. 
“I know,” he concedes. “But I don’t know what that means for your…”
“Life expectancy?” you offer. There’s something almost detached and also calming about the way you say it. “You can’t say for sure that I won’t live beyond a normal human life, either.”
“No, I can’t,” he says. “I’ve never wanted to stick around another reincarnated soul the way I can’t seem to let you out of my sight.”
“Doesn’t that mean it’s worth at least considering?” you ask. 
There’s nothing desperate or emotional about the way you approach the conversation. It’s all based in fact and the information in front of you. As much as you and Chan like to go out on dates, you also like to sit with him while he tries to do research. Both of you want to understand what your soul means for the rest of your body. You want to understand why sometimes he can feel your mood or even hear some of your louder thoughts. It’s fun when you can control it and send something disruptive towards Chan. Fun for you, at least. He doesn’t always appreciate the image of what you want to do to him while he’s trying to do something at work. 
So, you go through all the knowns with him again. Go over everything that you’ve learned. Go through the questions you have unanswered and where there might be more information. You talk things through logically in a way that feels familiar to him. Chan finds himself getting lost in his amazement at your brain and the way you process information. It’s also incredible to him to watch you work through a problem. It lulls him into a place that he hasn’t been in since…
And that’s when it clicks. That’s when he realizes. You’re not just a reincarnated sea nymph. No, it’s much deeper than that. He knows your soul more intimately than he knows his own. He can’t believe that he didn’t see it right away. Can’t believe he’s had you in his bed for months now without realizing.
“You’re not listening anymore,” you comment. You don’t seem upset, only curious. It’s like you want to know where his mind goes.
“No, I’m sorry,” he says and you wave it off. “It’s just, well, I figured out who you used to be.” 
“Uh,” you say, clearly missing a piece. “Yeah? A reincarnated sea nymph? We’ve already covered this.” 
“No,” he disagrees. That makes you raise your eyebrows. “Well, you are, but you’re also more than that. Your soul, it’s…”
“What is it, Chan?” you ask, full attention focusing on him. 
“I should have known. You feel so familiar, like I’ve known you for years,” he says and it’s like he’s talking to himself. “It’s not just some ordinary sea nymph’s soul…”
“Yes, because sea nymphs are so ordinary,” you say with a scoff. “Like people every day are just coming across sea n-”
“It’s Amphitrite’s soul,” he finishes and that stops you mid sentence. Your eyes lock onto his, wide and wondering. 
“Amphitrite? As in Goddess of the sea, most prominent of the sea nymphs and wife of…” she says and can’t seem to finish the sentence.
“Poseidon. The one true love of my life, yes,” he says. 
If you think anything of him referring to Amphitrite as the one true love of his life, you don’t say anything. You go into a contemplative silence. Like if you think hard enough, you may be able to remember her or the relationship with Poseidon. Who knows? Maybe you can. Try as he might, Chan can’t seem to think of a single instance where something like this has happened before. Doesn’t remember someone like Hera returning in this way. He also can’t think of any reason why you would return now, after all this time. Unless this is just the first time he’s found you. There are far more questions than answers. 
“This…changes things,” you say.
“Does it?” he asks. 
“Doesn’t it?” you immediately return. 
“I don’t know,” he admits. “It’s like it suddenly makes sense in a way I wasn’t expecting. But, it also feels…more complicated.” 
“Complicated, how? I mean, you were in love with Amphitrite and I assume she, or I, was also in love with you,” you say. “Doesn’t that explain this pull we have to each other?” 
“Our relationship was incredibly complicated,” he says softly. “I have…many regrets about how I handled things when it came to her. And I also can’t wrap my brain around her reappearing after so many years or what that means for you.”
“Why don’t we just start at the beginning? Tell me about your relationship,” you prompt.
“There are parts that were ugly,” he says without meeting your eye. 
The couch shifts and dips as you get closer to him. You lift his chin up gently so he’s looking at you. “The fact that you can admit parts were ugly or that you have regrets shows you’ve learned. So, tell me the whole story and then we’ll go from there.” 
So, he starts talking. 
It starts at the beginning. He was at a celebration when he saw Amphitrite dancing among the other Nereids, the daughters of Nereus, who was also known as the Old Man of the Sea. There had been other consorts before her, but he was instantly smitten. She symbolized everything beautiful and kind about the sea. Everything that he could ever want. So, he approached her father before ever approaching her and asked for her hand. Her father was, understandably, thrilled. It seemed like there was no better match than to allow Poseidon himself to marry one of his daughters. In hindsight, that was absolutely the wrong way to go about it. She should have been given a say in her own life rather than treated like property by her father and the man who claimed to love her. 
Chan talks about what he can remember of their courtship as honestly as he can. From his perspective, everything went wonderfully. After all, why shouldn’t she have been thrilled that he wanted to marry her. Once he had nothing but time to think back on what he had done, he realized that she had not seemed all that interested. It was more like she was going through the motions because she had to. He tried to include her in everything that he could so she would see what her life could be like. Maybe that had been the wrong choice. But, she was a natural when it came to hosting or offering opinions in meetings. At the time, it made him happy to see how well she settled in. Now, it just felt like she had been forced into a life she never wanted.
As the wedding itself got closer, she fled to the far reaches of the ocean. It was a dolphin scout of his that finally managed to find her. He never knew what his scout said to her that made her return. He only knew what he told the scout. They never spoke about it once she came back. She simply returned, assured him she had only been nervous about how important he was, and said she wanted to get married still. So, he also acted like nothing happened, which he knows was as wrong as he could have been. He does think that he tried to be a better partner to her after that, though he’s not sure he succeeded. When he had to make decisions between what might be best for her and what might be best for his position, he chose himself. He also chose the sea over her when he had to make those choices. It was never fair to her. 
Somehow, through all of that, he did really grow to love her. He valued her beyond what he showed. He appreciated her for her unfailing kindness and her insistence when she knew she was right. He appreciated her wit and her mind. He appreciated the way that she was never afraid to tell him what she thought or to let him know when he was making the wrong decision. He appreciated that she didn’t just bend over backwards for him or fawn over him. He only realized after she was gone that he never appreciated her the way that she deserved to be appreciated. Once he lost her, he realized that he should have done anything in the world to protect her. He realized he should have given her the entire sea and made her the ruler because she was far smarter than he had realized. 
You only listen intently without interrupting. In the few moments where Chan looks at you, he struggles to figure out what you’re thinking. Not that you won’t tell him. He knows you will. It’s just very daunting to speak that long without you interjecting. When he stops speaking, you’re still quiet for a moment. 
“I think…Chan, I think I’m starting to remember,” you say with wide eyes. 
And that’s the last thing he expects to hear. He figures you may tell him that he’s horrible for putting someone he claims to have loved through that. Or you could say that it sounds far-fetched to think she’s not just a sea nymph, but a specific nymph that he was deeply in love with. He doesn’t expect for you to look at him in wonder and say you’re remembering. That’s another unknown in this entire mess of a situation. 
Before he can consider if this is something that should even be possible, your lips crash into his. There are so many emotions behind that kiss that he can’t begin to process. There’s longing and a long-forgotten love. There’s excitement about returned memories. There’s the sparks that always fly between you two. The mix of the established feelings with ones Chan never expected to feel again is startling. So, he just lets his mind wander. He lets the feeling of kissing you consume him so thoroughly that it pushes any other conversation out the window. All that exists in that moment is the two of you, however you want to define that. 
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The excitement of finding out a long forgotten identity wears off far quicker than you expect it to. Not that you have any frame of reference for this sort of thing. But, surely it should last longer than this. Longer than it takes for you to fall into bed with Chan again. Longer than it takes for him to worship your body as he’s done before and for him to bring you to an orgasm so good it has you screaming. Somehow, in the post-sex haze, he doesn’t realize that you’re quieter than usual. Perhaps that’s a blessing. He kisses you so softly, so sweet and tells you that he’s going to do some research. That’s fine, you insist, because you want to get back home to really get a good night’s sleep. It seems unspoken that he wants to let you process.
But…well, you’re not really sure if you’re still okay with the information. It’s like having sex this time triggered a new flood of memories. Some come across as clearly as if it was something you directly experienced. Others come through more as feelings than anything else. And it’s a lot. Overwhelming in a way that nothing else has been. It’s how you expected to react to finding out that all those myths you were so drawn to were actually real. That feels easy to accept, especially now. Remembering is something else entirely. Because remembering Amphitrite’s experiences as your own just feels complicated. 
Maybe it’s wrong to think of her as a separate person if her soul lives within you. That part isn’t hard to accept, not when you can feel it. The hard part is accepting the feelings about Chan. The memory pushes back on you calling him that. Accepting is also the wrong word. The hard part is reconciling the person you’ve gotten to know with the memories that come flooding back. 
Then, almost as if on cue, that whispering voice returns. It reminds you of how you felt when you first met Chan. Of the distaste you had without being able to place it. Which is true, isn’t it? You didn’t like him without any reason beyond just a feeling. The voice presses memories onto you. Things you actually experienced with Chan mixed in with scenes between Poseidon and Amphitrite. The more you see, the more it feels like your own memories. Like something that you took part in directly. 
It’s putting it mildly to say that things are complicated. There is clear affection there for the person that Amphitrite got to know. Although it’s clear she did not love Poseidon from the beginning, she grew into much stronger feelings. Yet, she can’t separate those fully. She can’t say for sure that the feelings would develop on their own. Did she just love him? Or was it because she, at times, had little contact with anyone outside their palace? Though, that was largely her own choice as things went on. There were too many things to do at home to leave. And there was too much unrest.
Yes, it feels complicated. Now your own memories or the past few months mingle with decades of memories from someone else. You can’t decide if you want to push your own memories aside to make room for the returning ones or keep them side by side. Your new memories don’t really seem to fit, though. Which isn’t surprising. The person you know isn’t the same one that Amphitrite knew. He’s grown in ways that she can scarcely understand or imagine. He’s thoughtful and considerate and much more mature. That doesn’t sit perfectly with the memories. Although, you can tell that there’s a part of the lingering voice that appreciates the growth. Maybe even feels a little responsible for it. Wants to believe that she’s part of the reason he made the changes. 
By the time you make it back to your apartment, your head feels like it’s going to split open. You’re no closer to any answers about what you want to do. No closer to reconciling incredibly complex feelings. No closer to the next step. That’s fine, though. All you can really do now is let yourself drift off to sleep and revisit 
The morning, unfortunately, doesn’t bring answers. You’re not sure how to approach Chan other than to ask for time to process your feelings. That seems like as good a place to start as any because it’s a lot to take in. He must know that. Surely he’ll understand. Even though you seemingly accepted the news yesterday, it’s a new day today. And your brain is fighting to catch up. 
You’re trying to figure out how to approach the conversation with Chan when you make your way through the apartment. A piece of paper by your front door catches your eye and you approach it. You pick up the envelope and recognize the writing on the front of it as Chan’s. There’s something so impossibly him about the gesture. Of course he would write a letter instead of…wait. A moment too late, your brain catches up. Why would Chan be writing you a letter? What changed?
Opening the letter feels close to the last thing you want to do. But, you know that you need to just open it to see what’s going on. See if anything changes. 
A lot can change overnight, it seems. Chan fills the letter with apologies for things you can’t even begin to understand. He’s apologizing to you and also to Amphitrite. It seems he got to the conclusion much faster than you, which shouldn’t be surprising. He’s had centuries, apparently, to learn and to spot things others may never notice. That’s especially clear as you read through his letter, now. 
Getting past the general apologies, you find more specific apologies. He’s incredibly sorry, but he’s going to be leaving for a while. He knows that it’s not fair to you, but it’s something that he’s got to do. At least he acknowledges that it should ultimately be your decision on how to proceed with the relationship. He can’t let you do that without more answers to his questions. He needs to know how it’s possible for Amphitrite’s soul to have found its way into your body. He needs to understand what that means for your own mortality. It’s selfish, he admits, so incredibly selfish, but he can’t move forward with you, even if that’s what you want, without knowing more. He can’t watch as you age and he doesn’t. Can’t grow to love you more and more only to know you have an expiration date. It’s cold, he knows, to say it that way. It’s also the way he’s going to approach it. The whole letter is filled with apologies and acknowledgements followed by buts. 
Chan goes on to say that he’s going looking for his brother, Zeus. He’s the only one that might be able to help them understand what’s happening. The problem is that he hasn’t seen his brother in centuries and doesn’t entirely know how to find him, or if he’s even still surviving. He just has to trust that he’s out there somewhere, going through the same motions as Chan and chugging forward in the only way either of them know how. Somehow this tidbit is a lot to process. Accepting the existence of Poseidon was easy. Maybe that’s because of your own past. Accepting Zeus is something else entirely. Some of that stems from your own disbelief. Most seems to come from Amphitrite’s complicated feelings about her brother-in-law.
Just as you’re about to put the letter down in frustration, you see the postscript. Chan asks you to help his staff look after the aquarium until he returns. He knows that it’s not fair to ask. He knows you may even say no. Your heart tightens at the thought of the animals without Chan. Now that you know who he is, you know that they’ll miss him when he’s not around. You don’t have powers the way he does, though. And it’s his choice to just leave on a whim to chase answers for a relationship that may not even be there when he returns. 
Well, two can play this game, you think. It may not be a fully rational thought. It may not even be fair. Before you can overthink it, you send a text to Soonyoung saying that you’ll be out of town for the next few weeks, at least. You just tell him that you have some things to work through and leave it at that. In the meantime, you throw things haphazardly into a suitcase and you’re out the door before even getting a response.
Your letter from Chan stays sitting on your table as you rush out of the apartment without a second thought. All you know is that you’re going to let Amphitrite guide you on a journey of your own to find missing memories before you make any more decisions. 
It seems like both of you have a lot to figure out before you see each other next.
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danysdragon · 2 days ago
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Haunted
Aemond Targaryen x ghost!niece!reader
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Summary: Aemond Targaryen is haunted by the ghost of the girl whose life was stolen at the hands of himself. He is fighting a mental battle, seeing her face in the shadows and walking about the Red Keep is truly a torturous and haunting sight…
Warnings: 18+ mdni! Brief mentions of smut. Dark context! Manipulation, taunting, blood, haunting, Aemond being in denial, large mentions of death!! Reader teasing Aemond and making him feel bad, Aemond crying, Aemond’s ego being beaten, mostly just regret and denial. Drunk Aegon, Aegon teasing Aemond, Aegon being a dick.
A/N: soooo… I was super excited to write this because it was on my mind for a while! I love the Aemond getting haunted ideas! I hope you love reading this story just as much as I loved writing it💋💋💋💋💋 the photos do not describe the reader in any way!
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Aemond Targaryen is haunted. Haunted by the girl who stole his eye all those years ago. Haunted by the girl whose life he stole. He doesn’t know if he regrets what he did or not. But he does know that he is going to lose his sanity if she continues this. This little game of hers. She taunts him, and teases him. She enjoys it more than she enjoyed taking his eye, he thinks. When he sees her, he sees the blood seeping out of the soft skin of her stomach, her dress being stained by the red liquid. When her dragon was hit by dragonfire, it began going down. And she went down with it. She hit the rocks in the sea, dying immediately. She washed up on shore days later. He killed both her and her dragon. He did not mean for that to happen, though. You see, he was angry. He wanted revenge for what she did to him, but he never meant to take it that far. Now she’s dead, and it’s is his fault. It is also his fault this war has started. Rhaenyra was crushed after the death of her daughter, declaring war and demanding Aemond’s head. Alicent was also livid. Livid at how careless Aemond was with his actions resulting in the brutal killing of the girl. The girl he has reluctantly grown to love, but he shouldn’t. She’s dead because of him. And it doesn’t help that he sees her face every fucking day.
It was a busy day in the Red Keep. Helaena and Alicent attended Jahaerys’ funeral, Aegon killed one of the men that took the life of his boy, and Aemond visited a brothel. Aemond has been visiting the brothel a lot lately. He’s only doing this because of his conflicting emotions regarding the recent death of his niece. He needed comfort that his mother could not give him. He has come back and began thinking. He sits by the fire, waiting for her to show up. She always shows up around this time. He has taught himself not to be frightened of her visits, it will only make this battle worse.
He gazes at the flames dancing atop the burning wood in the fireplace. He pouts his lips in thought. The chair he sits on tonight is uncomfortable, more than usual. He can feel her presence, though, she hasn’t spoken yet. He will not look up from the fire until he hears her silky voice. “It is your fault he is dead.” She speaks, finally. Her voice is quiet now, compared to her voice when she was falling. Down and down, into the water. He sighs, his hand clenching into a fist against the arm rest of the chair. “Whose death are you speaking of?” He asks, knowing who she is speaking of, but wanting her to say it herself. “The boy. It was an action made in my mother’s words “blood for blood.” She spoke those words because of you. What you did to me.” He stands up, facing her. She is standing next to his chair, looking into his eye.
“Must you taunt me so?” The Kinslayer asks, not being able to look into her cold eyes. She doesn’t answer. She puts a finger on his chin, making him look up at her. “You did this to me, uncle. You put me here.” He is forced to look into her eyes, now not being able to look away. “Stop it, you’re not truly here.” He forces out. He sees the coldness, the anger, but also the teasing in her eyes. “Oh, but I am. I am in your skin, in your mind… In your heart. I am a part of you now, Aemond.” She takes a step closer, her cold lips nearly touching his. “You are nothing but a ghost, haunting me, torturing me.” Her eyes darken. “Is that all I am to you? Just another soul you snatched away because of your greed and selfishness?” She whispers to him, her voice like a soft breeze in a green forest. He sucks in a sharp breath, wanting to reach out and touch her. To pull her close to him and claim her body as he claimed her life. But he also wants to push her away at the same time. “Stop it.”
He is just about to push her back when he hears a loud knock on his door. Too aggressive to be a simple servant. He looks to the door then back at her, gently pushing her to leave. She sighs and takes a step back into the shadows, disappearing from his sight. He lets out a breath and sits back down in his large arm chair. “Enter.” He grumbles. The large, wooden door creaks open and he soon hears the irritating sounds of Aegon’s drunken laughter. He fights the urge to yell at him to get out, wanting to see his beautiful, darling niece again. The door shuts and Aegon plops down onto Aemond’s bed, still giggling like a child. “Evening brother, I hope I’m not interrupting your… conversations with your little ghosts and such.” He says with a chuckle, looking at his brother. Aemond wonders why Aegon is drunk now. “What do you want brother?” Aemond hisses, not in the mood for Aegon’s antics. “I just wanted to speak to you about… this war, and all these deaths. Father, my son… our niece.” Aemond winces at the mention of his niece. Aegon knows he struck a nerve. That’s what he does, he loves taunting Aemond until he snaps. “What about them?” Aemond isn’t in the mood for Aegon’s games. He doesn’t look at the king, thinking that if he looked, he would become even more irritated.
“Oh, you know… I was thinking. Thinking about you. And our sweet niece. I always thought that there was something between you both. Until you killed her. I wouldn’t be surprised if you two fucked while the Blacks were here to see our dying father. Perhaps it was in your bed, or in a closet… Or on the dining table-“ Aemond snaps. “Get out.” Aegon stops laughing and looks at Aemond, a bit offended and confused. “Sorry? I don’t think I heard you correctly, brother.” Aemond stands up and faces Aegon, peering into his soul like a predator eyeing its prey. “Get out, brother. Now.” Aegon’s eyes darken and his smile completely fades. “Alright then. I’ll leave.” He gets up and begins walking to the doors. He stops and looks at the prince. “It’s a shame she’s dead. I know how badly you yearn for her.” He finally leaves, shutting the door with a small slam. The young prince lets out an irritated sigh, sitting back down. The fire is slowly dying.
He can feel her presence back again. She gently puts her hands on his shoulders behind him, her hands cold. He feels this pain in his heart. He knows she is not truly here, and it’s his fault. He did that to her. And now he’s haunted because of what he did, forever haunted by the ghost of his sweet niece. The girl that was simply trying to protect her brothers all those years ago, causing him to lose an eye. She leans down and gently presses her frigid lips to his jaw. He lets out a small hum, not stopping her from commencing her actions. Her lips slowly trail down to his upper neck, just under his jaw. Her tongue darts out of her mouth to taste his smooth skin. He lets out a small whimper of pleasure and need as he feels her tongue dance on his skin. He feels her hand snake around his throat, squeezing a bit, not hard enough to choke him, but hard enough to make him feel it. She sucks and nips at his sweet spot, enjoying the sounds he’s making. Until she suddenly stops. And he no longer feels her lips on his neck and her hand on his throat. He doesn’t feel her at all. She’s disappeared once again. He sighs at the loss of contact, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair.
Until next time, ghostly girl.
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Hello loves! I hope you enjoyed reading! This was a short one but I truly enjoyed writing it. Hope you liked it!💋
-Liv💋
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sheeezu · 2 days ago
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Yes, this is a new account, I just made this. I don't care if people question the authenticity of my post, my experience as a shifter, or whatever I'm about to say.
I don't know how to use Tumblr, nor do I know how to make my post reach people who need it, nor would I be a narcissist and say "you're lucky if you found my post!" I don't mind if this reaches an audience or not, I'm glad to get everything off my chest.
Yes. I've shifted.
I have shifted realities, more times than I can count on my fingers, and that is for a very specific reason, which I'll explain later.
I'm writing this because I'm about to permashift, and no, I won't hear out any antishifters or people who don't like permashifting in general, I don't care about your opinion so don't waste my time.
Before I start, I'd like to say one thing:
I was irrational minded, I lacked belief in myself and shifting. Shifting often times felt like a chore more than a fun activity, and i have to admit, it became an unhealthy habit.
So? Why did I mention this?
Because I had been lurking around shifting communities and I realised everyone feels like this, a very (mentally) painful feeling where the lack of shifts starts acting as your biggest enemy, and the phrase:
"Shifting needs practice!"
Sounds like poison when it comes from an experienced shifter.
Though, is the phrase actually true?
No, not at all.
Shifting does not need practice!!
Here's why:
(BTW, I will explain my "method", no matter if I have time or not. Also, I don't call this reality "Current Reality", instead I call it Void reality, so don't get confused.)
The "practice" you're doing is only affecting your void reality (taking time out of your day, making you constantly think you're in your learning phase, so it doesn't exactly lead to your desired reality, does it?)
Of course, if you view it as a skill, it will in some way act like that, it'll become a skill for you, and you can never succeed on your first, second, third, hundredth try, because in your brain you have registered the fact that shifting is this grand, universal task, and that it is very difficult (because its common sense that you practice difficult things to get good at them)
Practice is a very humane and earthly act, if people have succeeded doing just practice, then good for then, they're right in their own way, but it didn't work for me, and in my opinion it's the worst way to view shifting, and often times it is demotivating, and you'll mess up you're entire journey.
Shifting is not a skill, shifting is a universal law.
I'll become more clear as I explain my journey:
My journey:
I found shifting from a random YouTube video 3 years ago. I might have only said cool and moved along.
A year later something traumatic happened in my life, which shook me so badly I needed an escape.
First of all, I chose astral projecting, but I realised I was too much of a coward to do so.
Then I came towards shifting, first DR was very typical, it was Hogwarts.
Having no knowledge whatsoever in the topics of spirituality, meditation, I went straight to methods, because they were like guides for me, I was very inexperienced, of course, and looked at other people and what they were doing for guidance.
Alice in wonderland method didn't do much, raven method was too uncomfortable (side note, all this raven method does is make you too focused on your void reality, cmon, in your DR are you laying down like a starfish?) And I was having terrible trouble with my intrusive thoughts (which made the floor disappear from under my feet, made the stairs for the stairs method too short to climb or straight up made them dissappear as well)
I didn't have any luck that year, no mini shifts, no lucid dreams, or sleep paralysis. And my DRs never remained constant. They always changed on a daily basis.
I was big on methods, I couldn't realize they never worked for me.
Although, this year of failure led me to finally figure out where I belonged.
A DR made out of scratch, which I spend much effort in putting the pieces of it together.
The DR, which was called "Home reality" really made me feel settled in my journey.
LOA, and the consciousness theory were the leading factors which made me shift.
And don't worry, it isn't what you're tired of being told, I didn't just apply any orthodox definition of LOA and succeeded.
Background to my first shift:
It was a particularly stressful day, I really missed my home.
I was studying at my college (I still am, but...) and I was dreading giving a chemistry test, I did not prepare. In my mind, one thing was constantly looping in my head.
The scenario of the chemistry teacher coming in, and taking the test, and the next day I get it handed back with a big fat zero.
But then I stopped and wondered, having already known about the consciousness theory, so according to it:
"I am constantly letting this thought run in my mind, and constantly letting this reality dictate what happens next."
Basically, I realized what was about to happen next was indirectly in my control, but with my line of thinking, I was letting this reality control it directly.
I stopped, like actually stopped thinking.
And with a blank mind I thought.
"I won't have to take any test today."
And went around telling my classmates this with a confident tone.
The teacher came in, said we'll instead do some practicals in lab.
So the test got cancelled.
Going home, I got excited, i felt powerful.
I decided to apply this to shifting.
Before shifting, I took a nap during the day, (if you're tired your body insists on sleeping, so your mind will get hazy and you will start acting lazy towards your goal)
And after living how I normally would, before bedtime, I listened to some songs, and look at a Pinterest board which reminded me of my home reality.
My method and what happened next:
First phase of shifting:
When I laid down on the bed to start shifting, I first got comfy (for me, if I feel sleepy for some reason, I laid on my back, I can't fall asleep in that position, but if I think ill stay awake until I reach a "detached state" then I sleep on my side, it's comfortable)
I obviously wasn't checking the time, but I spent about 10 minutes getting relaxed, all I do to relax is:
a) look at the blackness (closed eyes, looks like starry skies) and try to believe I'm looking at the milky way.
b) think about my home reality, just faces of my loved ones, and nostalgia inducing images.
c) Affirm, but don't focus entirely on affirming, usually in the back of my mind I'm repeating "I have shifted to my home reality" "I have shifted my senses to my home reality" "I have stopped sensing the void reality" "I am smelling, tasting, feeling, hearing and seeing my home reality" no other fancy affirmations required. (Now that I think about it, you need to affirm NOW because this method has two phases, one where you are shifting, and one where you have shifted, and you are in the 3D, where you are occupying your DR self, their thoughts, and memories, and popular method usually only have one phase, either you are shifting, or have shifted. So my point is if you affirm later and you'll be affirming when you're supposed to be in your DR, and obviously, your DR self won't be spouting out affirmations about shifting to a random reality for no reason.)
During this time, you'll feel tingly all over. It's a good sign.
And you'll feel a certain detachment, like you aren't exactly here, you have no idea what position you're lying in, and where your feet are. (Please, for the love of God do not start counting your feet or get freaked out that you can't feel your leg, you'll come back to the void reality.)
So you can start the next phase.
Middle phase (optional):
To prepare for the next and last phase, you can do this to get ready, or don't (First read the third phase)
This is all about connection to your DR.
Think about memories from your DR, focus on the faces of your loved ones, the way you act, talk, your mannerisms in your DR, or you can simply say affirmations like these one:
My name is ___.
I work as a ___.
My age is ___.
Don't try to imagine vividly or anything, lightly touch upon the basic details of your DR, the construction and foundation of any reality and the person, who has existed there for their entire life.
(That's you!)
Phase three:
Take a sudden, abrupt stop from your stream of thoughts. (Yes intrusive thoughts will still pop up but don't give any importance to them) when you're in a blank state of mind, not longer than 30 seconds, you need to build up to the last step of your shifting method, and journey.
a) start imagining hearing the voices of your loved ones or just any voice, calling your DR name, your nicknames, with different tones. (For example, i heard my name in an angry tone from my father when he was scolding me, I heard my name followed by a laughter when my S/O teased me.)
OK, for me, I started feeling intense, groundshaking symptoms at this moment. Sudden flashing of lights, extreme feeling of floating, and ofcourse, feeling tingliness so much that it felt like pins and needle on my entire body. (I did ignore the symptoms)
b) plan the rest of your day in your DR, which you will be spending.
AGAIN, PLEASE DON'T SAY IT LIKE THIS.
❌️When I reach my DR ❌️ I will have to go to that eye specialist for that appointment.
Instead: (and the more you personalize it, the better)
Ughhh, I have to go to that appointment- this day will suck.
(Don't mind my example, that was the only thing I could think of at the moment)
c) in this reality, you are constantly thinking of something, your thoughts are definitely what constructs this reality, and your current thoughts are affecting your subconscious. (By this point, your subconscious is grounded in your DR, so don't worry about that bastard.)
Now, you're going to start thinking, thoughts which are going on in your DR self's mind, start with one sentence, with which you'll be able to start consciously thinking like your DR self.
And think in the style, tone, and mood of your DR self, and keep the thoughts strictly related to your DR.
Thats it, but what happens afterwards? And what happened to me?
So for me, I started feeling weird while I was thinking.
And I remember I thought this:
"Ugh, I don't want eggs for breakfast."
(I'm not saying this is the key to shifting, at this point, I had covered various topics, including, weather, my upcoming work assignment, and praised my S/O for a good 5 minutes.)
And I started panting, like suddenly I was trying to catch my breath, the room felt bright, so I opened my eyes, and well, I was in my home reality :)
I was delirious for a few second, my S/O was looking at me worriedly, but surprisingly, it didn't even take me a minute to adjust, it felt all so natural and I wasn't scared.
I didn't even feel emotional, at all, and didn't hug my S/O with tears in my eyes, I straight up asked to be served breakfast, incase anyone was wondering.
So that's it.
Although i have much to say, I'm tired of writing, but I'm more than willing to answer each and every one of your questions, although I only have 7 hours left till I permashift, I'll remain mostly active till then.
And no, I'm not rereading this to fix my grammar, so just ask if anything confused you.
Ask away.
I'm still not sure if this'll reach anyone or not.
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