#no because what even is this dialouge

[deathandnonexistentialdread]

there is a very fine line between fighting and flirting and these two are walking on the shakiest of tightropes

[starsteemer]

Thinking I don't want to post art anymore

[luvuomi]

✎ . . . ❝ [ amethos but, epic au! ]❞ .ೃ࿐

dedicated tracks: “the horse and the infant” & “just a man”

though strategic in his battle tactics and a master in the art of war, sethos is not one who particularly enjoys the bloodshed and adrenaline that comes along with it. unfortunately in this day in age, not many would agree. for them, to harbor such skilled yet deathly attributes, should thus be carried with pride. only then, can a man ever wish to become that which is greater than himself. this is how many view the reigning king of tulaytullah.

an adversary that is neither man nor mythical, but one’s darkest moment.

but would his fellow comrades still think the same of him now if they saw him hesitating on striking down his greatest foe? granted.. said foe was nothing more than a mere infant.

a fragile, defenseless being he now cradled in his arms, a familiar gesture that brought forth memories of his own child as he looked into their eyes. how could such innocence be deemed a threat by the gods? to be the bearer of such great calamity?

he couldn’t do it. how can when all he sees as he carries this child are fleeting images of his own son and wife.

where as he stands out on the balcony overseeing a once prosperous nation now set ablaze and ringing with battle cries from his invasion, he imagines for a moment that he’s back home in tulaytullah. even after all the years, away from everything he’s known, he can still see the image of the streets below bustling with vendors as they open up shops and prepare for the day ahead. instead of the smoky air, he imagines the mellow summer breeze that travels through the air of his kingdom, greeting him a pleasant morning.

in this daydream, sethos continues to hold the infant in his arms, having decidedly taken him in to raise as his own. at his right, his own son tugs at him, eagerly wanting to meet his new little brother and on his left, is his wife — amélie . her head resting upon his shoulder while tender eyes gaze upon the infant that she of course welcomed with open arms. it’s a distant future but one that is so picturesque, he almost believes it to be true.

but as the infant’s cries suddenly echo out, everything vanishes as quickly as it came, reduced to nothing more than the ashes that fill the darkened skies.

the world he desires is not awaiting him should he go against the will of the gods.

to have sympathy now would come at too much of a cost. one he can’t afford to lose as a man who’s just trying.. begging to go home.

[sweetcalebb]

Catching reader listening to nsfw audios hehe 😼

They catch you listening to NSFW audios ! ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

wc: 1.9k (~350 each boy)

a/n: there wasn't a specification on which boy, so i did my take on all of them. also a special thanks to @beaconsxd who helped me with raf's dialouge (directly quoted!!) and mannerisms. i hope it was okay!! :(

content: caleb/ zayne/ xavier/ sylus/ and rafayel x reader, some of them are pouty and whiny, obsessive, possessive, making your own videos together! <3

––

Caleb

You thought you were careful. How were you supposed to know that Caleb's earbuds would connect to your phone?

You sit there for a second, dumbly—brows furrowed with annoyance and fingers nudging at the volume button.

"What the hell?" you murmur.

You check your Bluetooth status. It says connected. But when you look closer, your cheeks burn.

They're connected. To Caleb's earbuds.

Before you can disconnect, you hear footsteps padding to your room.

Then there he is, brows furrowed and lips parted.

"What am I listening to right now?"

You scramble, turning the volume all the way down. Then you just sit there, blankly. What are you even supposed to say?

"How often do you listen to this stuff?" he asks, his voice edging with curiosity and something darker as he steps closer

"Not often..." you murmur, shrinking back into your bed like the pillows will erase the fact that you've been caught red-handed.

You want to die. This has literally been one of your worst fears since you stumbled across these NSFW audios—for someone else to connect as you're listening.

But for it to be Caleb of all people?

"I just—Sometimes I..—"

"Do you want me to make those sounds?" Caleb sits down next to you, hand twitching at his side. "Because I can. I can groan and grunt all you want. I can make videos for you."

Your chest tightens at that.

"N-no, that's not—"

"Then you wouldn't have to listen to that," he says, his voice caught between something equal parts soft and rough. Like he can't decide whether to be sweet or jealous.

"You could have me in your ear instead."

Your breath hitches. "You would seriously... make audios for me?"

Caleb nods, leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours, then your jaw, then your neck. Then his hand finally slides up your side.

"I would do anything for you."

(BONUS)

Caleb really followed through. Of course he did.

Anything for you.

You could tell he had fun—could practically hear the lopsided smile in his breathy sighs and moans.

Especially when he'd grunted out the words, "M'mhah. Is this what you wanted, Pipsqueak?"

Oh yeah, he was cocky.

But the pure possession and jealousy started bleeding in through the cracks. So painfully shameless, too. He started saying things like "I'm the only one you need pips," and "Just me, just me, just me," through grunts the closer he got.

And you ate it up.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Zayne

You had a routine. Connect to your earbuds. Check once. Check twice. Check thrice.

So the last thing you expected when Zayne asked if you guys could talk was for him to bring up the NSFW audios you were listening to earlier that day.

Your cheeks burn. You don't even want to look at him.

Zayne's lips press into a thin line, frustration sharpening the edges of his face. He isn't one for jealousy. No, he's composed. Rational.

Usually, anyway.

But this?

Something about it irks him.

"What do you use it for?" he asks, his voice rougher than he intends.

"Sometimes I just listen.."

Zayne's eyes narrow. "And other times?"

You stay silent, and that's all the answer he needs. He waits a beat, like he's contemplating what to do before carefully pulling you into his lap.

"Is there something.. I lack?" His voice softens in a way he can't hide.

He brushes his lips against your temple, then your cheek, then lower still until they're at your neck, sweet, but hesitant.

"If that's what you need... then let me be the voice you listen to."

You melt, guilt flaring in your chest.

"No, you're enough.. It's just something.. for when I miss you," you say, tilting your head. "But I shouldn't use it at all."

Zayne lets out a small sigh against your neck. "No. You shouldn't. Not when I can help you."

You pause.

"In what way?"

"I could... make those for you."

"What—?" You can't help the excitement that creeps up, but you quickly beat it back down. "You don't have to—"

"I want to." Then quieter, "Will you let me?"

(BONUS)

Zayne didn't spoil you. He's too strict (he's really just shy) for that. But he did leave you one video—him gasping and huffing as he worked himself over.

Again, he's too strict (shy) to be overly vocal, but he did slip in some lines.

"I need you..."

"I... I miss you."

Then casually, after sending the audio, he texted you.

Zayne: I hope you'll listen to that when you need me.

When you need him.

Such casual wording, like he hadn't just wrecked you even more with that.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Xavier

You've never seen him like this. Not since the last time you mentioned Lumiere. And you don't even try to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

It's not even from being caught.

It's from the way he looks you—brows set in an irritated line, lips pressed in a tight line, his jaw ticking from how hard he's clenching it.

"Why do you listen to that?" he questions, carefully grabbing your phone and shutting it off. "When I'm here?"

His eyes soften a fraction, his hands slipping up your sides and pulling you close. "I don't like it.."

Your chest feels heavy. "I didn't think it mattered," you murmur.

His hold on you tightens, and you can feel the heat of his stare even though you can’t meet his eyes.

“It matters to me,” he says, softer now.

You nod, cheeks burning. “Okay… I won’t anymore. I’m sorry, Xav.”

Xavier huffs, the sound caught between relief and something else. He nudges his head against yours. "Is that what you like?" He asks, his voice quiet, like he's not sure he really wants the answer.

Quickly, he decides he doesn't want the answer. He just kisses your head and murmurs, "I can make those for you."

It almost sounds like a plea, but that edge of possessiveness comes creeping back in. "You don't need anything—or anyone else."

(BONUS)

When Xavier actually sent you the video, it surprised you. But when you listened to it, you nearly lost it.

Because the sounds?—God, the sounds.

He whimpered all soft and needy. Then, halfway through, he started asking things like "is this okay?" and "am i doing it right?" between ragged breaths.

You felt a small twinge of guilt though. When you saw him at work again; he averted your gaze and his cheeks tinted a cute pink.

Then later, when you were alone, he asked, "Did I do it right..?"

When you nodded, he smiled and said, "I'm glad."

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Sylus

"Sweetie."

You briefly glance up at Sylus as he enters the bedroom. "Yeah?"

Nothing could've prepared you for when Sylus holds up his phone, the NSFW audio you listened to yesterday on the screen.

"What is the meaning of this?"

You glance up again as he stops in front of you. Heat rushes to your cheeks. You open your mouth to explain, but all that comes out is a small breath.

Sylus tilts his head and smiles. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

"I don't... How did you..?"

"I'm not judging, sweetie. I'm just.." he glances at the screen, still smiling, "intrigued."

"I.. I just missed you."

Sylus chuckles, the sound low and rumbly. He places his phone on the nightstand before carefully dragging his hand up your arm and stopping at your cheek.

"So you imagine me when you listen to that?"

"Yes.."

Sylus hums in acknowledgment.

"Well, why listen to this when you can have the real thing?"

He thumbs at your lip, his chest tugging at the way you look right now—cheeks tinted red, eyes big and pleading, like you're praying he won't be mad at you.

"What do you mean?"

"If you listen to audios when you miss me, then perhaps I should give you something to use while I'm away." He leans forward, his breath ghosting over your lips. "Would you like that, kitten?"

"Yes.."

"Good. If you want something, just ask for it." Sylus kisses you slow. "I'll give you anything you desire as long as you talk to me."

(BONUS)

Sylus spared no expense. He didn't just send an audio. He sent a video too—claiming it was for when your mind needed a little more stimulation.

The audio—that was a whole thing on its own—soft grunts and groans that made heat pool in your stomach and your legs squeeze together.

But the video?

The video made you think he missed his calling on some raunchy site with the way he worked himself over, deliberately slow at first, then faster, your name spilling past his lips like it's sacred.

Then came his text.

Sylus: Will that suffice?

Sylus: If you ever need more—of anything, not just this—say the word and it's yours.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Rafayel

Rafayel hasn't talked to you in 30 minutes. He's been sitting there with his arms crossed and his lips pursed in his signature pout.

Then finally, "Do you even love me?"

You let out a quiet breath. "Of course I do!"

"What does that faceless man have that I don't?" he presses, eyes narrowed in a way that makes guilt curl in your chest.

"Nothing, Raf..! I—I'm sorry.. I only listen to that type of stuff when I miss you.."

"You should call me if you miss me so much.." he mutters, the tension slowly bleeding out of his shoulders when he sees the way your frown deepens.

He can never stay mad at you too long.

Rafayel sighs, gesturing for you to come closer. When you do, he wraps his arms around you and holds you close. "So that's the kinda stuff you like, huh?"

"Not necessarily... I just—I picture you."

There's a beat of silence, then he pulls back to look at you. "You picture me?" he echoes.

You nod.

He smiles, briefly. Just briefly. Then it's gone again, like he's still trying to hold on to whatever semblance of a grudge that he can.

"But I can give you everything you need," he murmurs. "You don't need to look anywhere else."

"I know, I'm sorry. I won't do it anymore."

He seems to soften even more at that. Then quietly, with his lips pressing into your collar, he says, "We could make our own audios." His lips trail up your neck. "Together."

You practically melt into a puddle right then and there. "You'd want to do that?"

Rafayel nods, lips traveling higher now. "So we can both have something to listen to when we miss each other." His grip on you tightens. "Maybe we can make more than just audios."

Your heart beats wildly in your ears. "Now?"

Rafayel nods, slowly grabbing your phone from your pocket and handing it to you. "When else, cutie?"

(BONUS)

You didn't just make audios together, you made videos too.

Plural.

Videos.

Rafayel wouldn't admit how much it actually bothered him that you listened to another guy's voice just to... what? He didn't even ask what you used them for. But it bothered him.

So, you guys made lengthy videos together.

He didn't stop after that, though. No, he started making more audios just for you. You didn't ask, he just did it.

You had a full album's worth of them.

And after that, the only NSFW audios you listened to were his.

––

go to my taglist if you want to be notified for future posts!

tags: @exe-toby @seungkwansflower @floatinginaer @halfawakeblobbu @heartyluv @starryeyed-apple @asiatic-apple @walrusbreath @sylvieisoffline @awquaz @purpleamethyst25 @pinksaiyans @haleaf @politefawn @colonelpantysniffer @villainessobsessed @lioria @inlovewithsylus @tired7o7 @justwinginglife @itsmysmut @bitewiththis @littleboomerang @aenishas @inzayneforaj @opalesquegirl @sudenuryg @lamogliedizayne @rurushow @viviiswrr-d @rina-lidou @puppytruther @animegamerfox @00haru00 @thelittlebutton @lilacsandhysteria @syncaleb @meulilac @honeymoonfleur @stargirlygirl @peachlycheetea @calebsbabyapple @goochfiddler99 @lewdcifer778 @minivia @bidisasterforevermore @c-l-stinnett @thesevro @mindnumbed @alysaria @destinysrequiem @twilightsmissingfur

(some of u only wanted to be tagged for certain boys. do u still want to be tagged for these types of post where it's all lads boys? let me know 🫶🏻)

[angelyuji]

here me out... yandere nolan x yandere debbie x reader... this was kinda inspired by a dream and also a fanfic i read about odysseus x penelope x reader (that was fluff tho lol)

threesome with two bad bitches…. (gender neutral headcanons, most of the dialogue parts are f!reader tho sawwy ☹)

tw // kidnapping, implied drugging, sex mentioned, f!reader in dialouge, nolan is an enabler and a manipulator, debbie is down bad for u

18+!!!!!!!!!!! MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!!!!!!

listen… put me in a room with nolan and debbie, one of us coming out pregnant (nolan)

anyway let me cook (might cook odypenreader fanfics next idk im very odyssey/epic-brained rn)

nolan and debbie are very freaky as a couple, they get down and dirty bro

they’re kinky and freaky and theyre down to do anything

they met you at a bar during a date and they’re like “ohh theyre cute” and at first it really was just a kink thing, debbie likes making out with nolan as you go down on her and nolan likes making out with debbie as he pounds the shit out of you

sometimes debbie puts on a strap and you’ve got the both of them fucking the shit out of you and it’s great

sorry im freak gooner i want debbie and nolan to split me like a goddamn kitkat bar

anyway, it really was just sex at first

then it starts being more, with them inviting you on their dates or just inviting you over to spend time with them

they’re constantly touching you, not even in a sexual way,  but like hugging and kissing

debbie and nolan are highkey obsessed with you

nolan brings it up first tho

“so… about that girl…”

“(y/n).” debbie bumps her hips against his, continuing to cook as nolan dices.

“right, (y/n).” nolan puts down the knife, turning to look at debbie. she stop stirring to look back, a small smile resting on her face. “she’s cute, isn’t she.” nolan’s eyes search his wife’s face. “we have fun with her, right?”

debbie smiles, putting a hand on her husband’s bicep, “yeah, i like her too, nolan.” she turns back to cook, “we can bring it up to her tonight over dinner.”

nolan hugs debbie from behind, “you know exactly what’s on my mind, woman.” he presses a kiss to her neck.

debbie laughs, “probably because it’s on my mind too.”

that isn’t to say that debbie isn’t into you either, she’s really into you too but nolan is more forward than her

they invite you for dinner and you guys are chill, you’re still under the impression that this whole thing is just for fun. you’re not going to get into a relationship with a married couple, but sex is fine cuz yk… its sex

so when they bring it up to you, saying how they’re both into you and they want to give it a shot, you’re like…. um no lol

which pisses nolan off and makes debbie sad :(((( (why would u do that FAWK YOU)

they don’t say anything at first tho, they’re like “oh! um. fine. ig.” the mood is killed tho so ur like lemme leave and then debbie and nolan have a conversation.

“i guess we can’t make her be with us.” debbie laughs, weakly. “i don’t know, i guess i thought she felt the same as us.” debbie continues to ramble and nolan sits down next to her, “i’m so embarrassed, nolan.” she rests her head on his shoulder.

“i was there too. if im not embarrassed, why are you?” he presses a kiss to her forehead and she sighs. a moment of silence passes before nolan speaks up again, “debbie, we could make her be with us. it wouldn’t take much.” debbie stiffens.

“nolan…”

“we like her.” nolan sneaks an arm around her waist, “and she likes us too. we just have to help her realize it.”

nolan and debbie are patient people. debbie loves nolan, so she trusts him. so if it means kidnapping you and stockholm syndroming you into loving them… i mean…

you scream into your gag, but no one comes to save you. you rest your head against the wall, exhausted. you had been trapped in their basement for the last couple days, chained to a bed, screaming till you fell asleep. you were freezing, itchy, hungry, and to make matters worse, your throat hurt. you let yourself rest, no amount of screaming was going to save you. after a couple minutes, you hear the door creak open. two sets of feet quietly come downstairs. “are you done?” nolan looks bored and debbie smacks his arm.

“are you alright, sweetheart?” she bends down to cup your cheek. you lean into the warmth of her hand. “we wanted to come down here earlier, but we were worried your… unrest… would upset mark.” she looks at you, eyes full of worry. you mumble into your gag. debbie moves to pull it, but nolan makes a noise of complaint.

“she’s not ready yet.” he stands with his arms crossed, menacing.

debbie rolls her eyes, “she’ll be good, nolan. have faith in our girl.” she looks at you, “you’ll be good, right?” you nod. she pulls the wet gag off of you.

“please, debbie, let me go. i-i don’t know why you guys are doing this, but-” your throat burns and you cough. debbie coos, gesturing to nolan for something. he hands her a glass of water. she helps you drink, tilting the glass. she pets your hair as you greedily gulp down water, some of it spilling down the sides of your mouth. nolan bends down, gently wiping your mouth with his thumb. debbie smiles, using her sweater to dry your tears.

“you’re not understanding, (y/n). we love you.” nolan’s thumb presses against your lips.  

debbie pets your hair, “we really only want you to love us back.”

[mothrabu-bu]

◇Metal Sonic design (and the original comic "Born to Fail" from which this is based upon) by @fernsnailz

♡Firstly, thank you fernsailz both for making the comic that inspired me to make my first, full fledged comic after several years of failing to do so, and also allowing me to do what I realize is the MOST self-indulgent and giddy i've ever been.

-----

♧Secondly, I am nervous, to write this. My knowledge of sonic is not vast. My understanding of characters may slip, despite all the research i put into them. My writing & character voice is subpar, but for once I have managed to create something out of love for this franchise and i think I needed this as well.

So even though I'm scared, frightened by the possibilies, every racing future in my mind that says "things will go wrong" "they will hate you" "you will be a failure" i find kinship in this character. Perhaps i too will learn to live. Perhaps i too will learn to love being alive.

So hopefully, this comic isn't too "out of character" or so blastfully horrificly beyond redemption as my anxious ridden brain percieves it be. I know, in my heart its not. But writing this out feels better than keeping the thoughts within me.

----

♤Thirdly, I know Chaos 0 isn't exactly a world-renowed beloved character that everyone does indepth analysis or theory crafting on. Thus, this ship may feel strange, or completely out of left feild to some.

In response, I have created an [ additional blog post ] outlining what I believe Chaos 0's character.

Of course, everyones interpretation of a character (what they represent, themes, and how they are handled) is largely a subjective process. So never take my iteration of him as gospel, and i encourage you (who are curious) to seek out information on him and determine for yourself who Chaos 0 is to you.

(That goes for Metal Sonic as well, but i'm focusing on Chaos because if not, who else will?)

---

☆Lastly, if anyone has tips or critque for me regarding making more belivable character dialouge, i'd be happy to hear. (Also theres a lot of artistic rendering inconsitencies- which is mostly because this took me a few months to make..😓✌️)

------

Bonus Short sketch comic under the cut:

[This is supposed to be a quick exploration on how exacly they mightve met in this particular continuity. It was made after the comic above was finalized, but i didnt want to leave the readers questioning as to what was going on.]

[Also some swearing because i am a chronic swearing sailor, and its funny.]

[sanjisblackasswife]

Thinking about how OPLASanji is a more closeted pervert than an open one. (Part 1)

IHadTo.

Blk Fem Reader x OPLA Sanji

CW: Sanji has tattoos(🌚), Suggestive, Kissing, Touchy Touchy Sanji, ….please read his dialouge in his voice. No smut BUT next time will be filthy smut<_< just setting up the plot here okaayyy i havent wrote in a while.

“So fucking pretty..”

“You say ‘sum Sanji?”

“Nothing, madam.”

Sanji was relentless. Him so new to the crew you and him managed to get pretty close quite quickly. It’s been a few weeks now and Zoro has pointed out about 15 times already how touchy and —in his words “Freaky” he is towards you.

“Either you’re that dense or just as perverted as him because how can you not feel his dick against your ass when you both are—“

“Zoro.” Nami cut him off with a stern tone, you blink at them both on the deck. “Enough, okay.”

“Somebody had to say it,” Zoro took a sip of his drink, settling back down on the chair, “It’s been constant dry foreplay from you both and it’s annoying—“

“…Sorry.” You murmur, not really sure how to answer to him, he looks at you, scoffing. “I don’t think sanji is intentionally being like that he just—“

“Well he is. A blind man can see how he fucks you with his eyes.”

Slightly confused as to why Zoro would even think Sanji is a pervert. He isn’t. He can’t be??

He’s so sweet, and charming, you can’t deny he was one of the few men you met that have caught your attention; his dimples exposing themselves when you make him smile, his pretty delicate hands that grabs ahold of yours when he kisses your knuckles, his pretty jewlery, and when he speaks in your ear, that fucking accent of his—-

…maybe him being a pervert wasn’t too bad.

I mean, he wasn’t hurting you nor ever made you uncomfortable? You both are adults.

And adults have needs.

And if two adults have attraction for one another then…well…it shouldn’t matter much?

You shook off what Zoro said and headed back to the kitchen, maybe he was just teasing you again.

But if he wasn’t…you could possibly make use of this new information.

——-

“Y/n, my love, how are you babe? Thirsty?” Sanji smiles at you, already preppping for dinner you grin warmly back at him and take a seat at the table, his eyes follow your figure, trailing down to your waist, and glued to your ass until you sat down.

For a moment you were quiet, not responding yet to his question, but admiring Sanji’s hands, how quickly he can chop food, how pretty his fingers are, you nearly nip at your lip when you notice him roll up his sleeves and see—-

“Oh!” Your eyes widen mindlessly, you walk towards the large kitchen island and lean over, “You have tattoos?”

How could have you not notice? it’s been almost a month being together and you never peeped? He had a half sleeve done and honestly it looked so..

“You like?” Sanji’s chuckle makes you break out of your daze. “I got my first one when i was 16. And then well, it became a slight addiction.”

You stare back at his forearm again, the pretty art marked on his skin, noticing the veins complimenting it made you nip at your lip again. He smiles, your pretty round eyes watching him as he cooked, but again.

Sanji’s eyes wondered.

You were in a trance at his tattoos, trying to count and see every detail of them you didn’t even notice your breast spilling out of your low cutted tank top onto the counter.

Your pretty brown chest, literally shining from a mixture of a bit of sweat and lotion you put on earlier with your small gold necklace dangling in between your clevage, Sanji tries to tear his eyes away, but he can’t help it.

You’re so fucking gorgeous. He seen you and Nami and he was already infactuated with you both, but you seemed to be more open to entertaining his flirtatious advances than Nami so he started to fall for you a bit more.

Hugging him at Arlong Park really got him going, your breast pressed against his, the way you kissed his cheek, and you were just so happy to see him he almost felt his pants get tight from that alone.

He wanted you bad it was almost admirable and pathetic.

“I have more tattoos. Y’know if you ever wanna see ‘em.” He teased, knowing damn well he was serious.

“Hmmmm.” You walk around the counter to face his side, finger tracing the rim of the counter top. “Well maybe….where are the others?”

“I have one on side, one on my shoulder, on my back—“

“Your back?” Your eyes lit up. “Can I see?”

Sanji started to stammer, “I— um… Really? You sure?…..okay just…give me a moment.”

You giggle at his urgency to clean up his mess, putting the roast in the oven he walks towards the kitchen door and locks it, his mind running a mile a minute he turns to face you to see you happliy sitting on the counter smiling, “C’mon lemme see! I love back tattoos!”

Sanji exhales, unbuttoning his shirt he feels your gaze, once his shirt is fallen to the ground he turns, you nearly gasped seeing the huge tattoo on his spine.

His very pretty spine.

“woah.” Sanji hears your footsteps approach him, he hisses slightly at your touch, you did always have a habit of touching when not asked. “It’s so pretty.”

Your hands start to move around the outline of the art, also noticing the small scars and bruises he has gotten in past fights. You lightly touch one, and he immediately turns around, causing you to jump, “Oh. Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright. You like them?”

“Mmhm…” you land your hand on his shoulder tattoo, not even taking note to how closer sanji approached you.

You both stare at each other for a moment, it was only 2 seconds but it felt like an eternity until Sanji decided to close the gap between you both.

His lips were so soft against yours you couldn’t hold in any moan you had released, you felt his hand cup your cheek, moving you backwards onto the counter, the kisses started to get more intense the more access you allowed him into your mouth.

Nothing but the sounds of water crashing, usopp and Luffy outside playing and heavy breathing filled the kitchen. Sanji just couldnt help himself—-

His mind was fuzzy, he knew in the back of his mind he shouldn’t have been so bold with his actions but to feel your body weight against his,

a slap or two was worth it, but it never came.

Sliding his tongue inside your mouth he pushes his leg in between yours, you really don’t know why you haven’t stopped him yet, maybe it’s the way he so easily picked you up by your ass and sat you on the counter, or maybe it’s how his hands are squeezing your breast, but you knew eventually you had to—-

“Okay!” You pulled off, both of you trying to catch your breath, “Wait…I….Sanji…”

He stared at you like a lost dog, damn near ready to get scolded with his pink puffy lips, you giggled. Holding his cheek, “I’m..sorry.”

You knew he shouldn’t have been sorry, he only did what you allowed him, and luckily he was a great kisser so it wasn’t anything you technically regret doing.

“Sorry for what?…I liked it.” You took his hand and teased, “Unexpected, but…I like it.”

You brush his hair back, going in for a slower and deeper kiss, your felt his cold palms rub the sides your your bare thighs, pulling you closer so you can throw your arms over his shoulder.

You nor him haven’t had this kind of touch from another person in a long time, and you both were clearly attracted to each other …so…why not bite the bullet?

“Let’s go to my room, Sanji…”

[dkiove]

YOUR SEA OF LOVE, lee seokmin.

content: you, a photographer, is offered a job to help revive a under-the-radar city with the aid of 'tour guide', seokmin— the town's go-to guy. pairing: fisherman's son dokyeom x photographer reader genre: fluff, angst word count: 5325 words note: the longest one ive written yet so please take your time <3, didnt proofread sorry, because its so congested due to how lengthy and descriptive it is—i decided to bolden up the dialouges hehe

"will you stay?"

"who even are you?"

The bus ride to a small serene city was unlike any other.

You were a photographer, a struggling one that is. Unable to make ends meet—you accepted a short project for a tourism department in an unknown city. Thinking that this will be your big break, you didn't hesitate and started packing your bags.

Its for a photo exhibition tasked to capture the lives and scenery of a coastal locale—aiming to use your artistry in a form of publicity to promote their undiscovered beauty.

Already starving for a few days without any proper plan—who are you to resist an all expenses paid work trip. Right?

The staff you spoke to on the phone as you arrived gave you the directions to their office. A small house-like space nestled in the center of the city, in the middle of restaurant chains and a bakery—easy to spot yet also easy to miss.

You sat quietly in front of a desk, fiddling with your fingers as your backpack nestled on the tiled floor. There were a lot of people walking around, carrying stacks of paper, loud phone calls, and a bunch of desks close together with their owners doing their own things.

"I would like to welcome you to our city—I hope you give us your best work", he says behind a pile of papers, sweat evidently trickling down his forehead from the hot and stuffy atmosphere. "Thank you for giving me this job too, I won't let you down", you smile bowing your head down.

"I tried to find someone to give you a tour for your pictures but I believe none of us in the office is available for a full day tour", he anxiously shares, his fingers propping his glasses in place.

"Are you okay working with someone else?", you answer him with a reserved nod, a grimaced smile follows afterwards.

"There's a fisherman here who's son is like everyone's go-to guy", he leans in, "You don't have to worry about him misbehaving because he's a very reliable person—he agreed to show you around town in his motorcycle"

"I see. When can I get started?"

"Tomorrow. He'll be here by 8 AM so meet him here by then"

"will you stay?"

"of course. what is there left to do anyways?"

The sun was awfully a lot unbearable than yesterday.

You stood in front of the office for a long time now—and this so called 'reliable guy' isn't anywhere in sight. 8:30, you check your watch again; a frustrated grumble leaving your lips as your eyes trail each side of the road for an approaching motorcycle.

"My camera will melt at this point", you mumble.

Suddenly, the front door of the office opens. You turn around to see the staff you had talked to yesterday— "You're still here?", he exclaims, shutting the door behind him.

You nod, "Are you sure he's gonna come here? I think we already wasted a few minutes", you say. He checked his watch and hissed, "I see. But please wait for him, he might be in traffic right now"

"I think i'll just go ahead and start on my own, when he gets here please tell him that I won't be needing his help", you start to walk away, the crunch of gravel under your boots filling the protest of the staff.

Then, the sharp revving of a motorcycle cut through the still morning air.

You turned, startled.

A pale blue motorcycle skidded to a graceful stop beside you. The rider killed the engine, kicked the stand down, and pulled off his helmet with one hand—slow, casual, like he had all the time in the world.

Messy black hair. Sun-touched skin. That lazy kind of smile that made you irritated just for how easy it looked on him.

“You're leaving without me?” he asked, voice light but steady. His eyes, soft around the edges, scanned yours with a quiet amusement—as if he hadn’t just made you wait half an hour.

You blinked, caught between annoyance and disbelief.

He offered a hand—not an apology, not an excuse. “Name's Seokmin. Sorry I’m late— there was a boat issue earlier, and my mom made me eat.”

"Now get in since we already wasted a few minutes", he ushers you, throwing a red shiny helmet in your direction to which you almost failed to catch.

"Hold on tight because I'm gonna leave you if you fall down"

The whole day has been exhausting.

Althroughout that awkward and rough motorcycle ride accompanied by Seokmin's sudden cheering and you holding on for dear life—he haven't made the rest of the tour enjoyable.

He showed you around; from the temples, a quick chat with ladies from the market who generously treated him like a baby, the public library, around his favorite restaurants, and everywhere else—he made sure you captured around twenty images per destination.

Now you were catching the sunset on the beach. His motorcycle was parked farther from which he originally planned, the sea hushed around you, and the sun was on its way for a proper goodbye.

You nestled your camera on the sand, making sure it doesn't fall as you began taking pictures of the scenery—Seokmin standing behind you.

"You really know how to capture beautiful moments", he sighs, watching as your finger hits the shutter button once in a while. You rolled your eyes and focused—to which he playfully encouraged.

"You people just look at the camera and say 'wow this is good', but how often do you actually live the moment?", Seokmin grinned—not accusing—just plainfully curious. He carefully adjusted around you and faced in front, his frame caught in camera.

You stop for a moment. At this point, it didn't matter that he was 'ruining' your shot. What he said truly made you stop and reflect— "living the moment?", you thought.

When have you lived in the moment. Back in Seoul, there was no more option for living—everyday was meant for surviving. If you took the time and slowed down for a while, you will bump into numerous people. You will get walked on and trampled on—living in the moment isn't possible.

Seokmin notices your silence and turns around lightly, enough to see you huddled behind the camera. Instead of a photo, you hit record—a few soft seconds of Seokmin standing beneath the fading light.

"Can you move? You're blocking the shot.”, he stands smack in the middle of the frame, arms loose at his sides, a stupid grin already forming— “I don’t think I want to.”

“I’m serious. Move.”

“I am too,” he says, bending down casually, scooping up a handful of sand.

“Don’t you dare—”

Before you can move, he tosses it. Not hard, just enough to scatter toward your legs and the hem of your clothes.

“You—Seokmin!”, you exclaim in frustration yet Seokmin's laughing already—loud, carefree, utterly unapologetic.

You abandon the camera on its tripod—still recording—and start running toward him, your voice tangled in half-hearted threats and breathless laughter.

“I'll kill you!”

“You’ll have to catch me first!”, he sticks his tongue out and bolts, feet kicking up sand as he darts down the beach. You chase after him, clumsy and determined, hair flowing against the wind and your voice echoing across the open shore.

The camera stays behind, lens pointed at nothing in particular—just the sea, the falling sun, and two of you chasing around each other like children.

It captured everything: down to your the footsteps you both left behind, his laughter, him nearly tripping, your slippers flying in the air, and the sea.

And for a few seconds, you’re not a hungry photographer or a stranger in this town. You’re just someone laughing in the golden light, chasing a boy who throws sand and smiles like it's summer forever.

You lunge forward, fingertips grazing the back of his shirt when he suddenly turns.

Seokmin catches you mid-dart, his hands instinctively wrapping around your wrist just in time to steady you. Your momentum halts. The laughter dies on your lips—not all at once, but like it’s being slowly reeled back inside.

You’re suddenly still. His grip is gentle, but firm. Sand clings to your knees and sleeves. Your chest rises and falls too fast for this quiet, and yet—its there. That stillness. That strange second where the world forgets to move.

You look up. He’s already looking at you. Yet neither of you says anything.

His hands are still around your wrist. Your eyes meet in the soft orange light. And for a moment, it feels like the tide has paused—like time has pressed its thumb gently against both your backs.

Your breaths slow. His smile falters, not into discomfort, but something softer—more real.

And then, as if the moment realizes it’s been caught staring too long; you both shuffle and step back—laughing a little, awkwardly and looking around anywhere but at each other.

“You're fast for someone who hides behind a camera all day,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck before sitting down at the sand.

“And you’re annoying for someone who clearly wants to be in front of it,” you reply, trying to sound normal, even though your heartbeat is anything but—sitting down beside him.

"I had fun" he exhales, looking up ahead. "The sun is almost gone," you mutter, "Because of you I don't have any good shots", you exclaim, looking back at where you positioned your camera.

Seokmin turns to you with a light smile, "Why are you guys so obsessed with taking sunset pictures?", he says obnoxiously. "Because it's good, it looks good", you retort back.

"The internet has already seen a lot of sunset pictures—would it kill you guys if you actually witnessed it for once"

You roll your eyes at his response—not defeated, just accepting.

"It's beautiful", you say, your breath caught as the beauty indeed is amazing to see first hand.

"I know—it always has been"

"will you stay?"

"i will go once the sun stops shining for us"

Earlier was full of surprises—your night was full of reviewing photos and editing.

You grumble to yourself in the small room inside the office. Your eyes burn from staring at your laptop the whole day—catching up to you in your most vulnerable moments.

Confidently, your progress was utmost 75%. All there is left to do is review the rest of the album and conclude your task it by submitting entries for printing.

It was almost 8 PM in the office. Despite the promised accomodation, you were expecting a five-star rated room and a buffet—only to be met by makeshift bed in one of the rooms inside the office. But luckily for you, their wifi was fast and small space had airconditioning.

Your stomach rumbles with each tap on the keyboard. With new photos appearing, it adds to the hunger building up. You admit defeat and stand up from where you are seated. Although they have given you food for dinner, it wasn't enough to make you feel satisfied.

The night in this city only got more beautiful. There was a warm glow emitted from each story, filled with sizzling stove tops, glasses clanking together, cheers from drunken men, and laughter from children that played on the street.

You walk beyond realization—not knowing where to go.

"Should I just get noodles?", you ask yourself, halting in front of a vibrant store. Nodding to yourself and your budget, you head on inside to find what you are looking for.

There were many selections: lots of choices to choose from. Soup-based, dry noodles, even cold noodles—this store has it all.

Tempted to get a lot, you settled for everyone's spicy favorite: Shin-Ramyeon. You walk to the front to pay only to be met with an empty counter—you looked around for the owner.

The counter sits unmanned, a lone plastic calculator resting beside a buzzling radio. You glance around the small shop—aisles neatly stocked, a few tired posters on the walls—but not a single sign of life.

“Hello?”, you call out, half-expecting no answer.

A moment later, the curtain behind the counter rustles—and out steps a familiar someone—Seokmin.

His black shirt clings slightly from the heat in the backroom, sleeves rolled, a towel still draped over one shoulder. His hair is an evident mess, like he either napped or wrestled with a rice sack.

“Sorry for the wai—”, he cuts himself off when he sees you. That friendly shop owner gesture replaced with a lopsided grin when you appear— “Oh, you.”

You blink, “You work here?”. He scoffs and steps behind the counter, "This is my mom's store. Do you think fishing is the only lifestyle I have?", Seokmin laughs dramatically, hand caught in his stomach for a more comical approach.

"Shut up and let me pay", you mutter, setting the cup in front of him.

“Is that a way to talk to your tour guide? The one you have a crush on?", he says without missing a beat, an annoying smile etched in his lips like he's all-knowing.

You stare, “Excuse me?”

“Come on,” he grins, leaning one elbow onto the counter. “You found out where I am. You showed up during my shift. You bought the exact cup noodles I like. It’s a little obvious.”

You shake your head with a small, incredulous laugh, “You think I went here because of you? You didn't think it was dinner time and I am hungry?"

“Sure,” he says, dragging out the word. “Let’s go with that. Totally not a crush.”

Seokmin slides the cup toward you after calculating the price. His fingers brush against yours—a casual touch, but it lingers a half-second longer than necessary. You can feel it, the way he’s watching you, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll flinch or grin or tell him off.

“You’re annoying,” you say flatly.

“And yet...” he smiles, “you’re still standing here.”

Before you can offer a clever retort, the curtain rustles again—and a warm, firm voice calls out— “Seokmin-ah!”

A woman in her late 50s emerges from the back room, wiping her hands on a floral apron, hair tied in a neat bun. She halts when she sees you at the counter, eyes narrowing just a bit.

“Who’s this?”

“Customer,” Seokmin says, stepping slightly aside, suddenly very innocent.

“Customer?” she repeats, staring pointedly. “Why are you both standing there awkwardly", she adds. “Mom,” he groans under his breath.

But she’s not done. Her gaze flickers to your face, and then her expression shifts— “Wait, are you the photographer?”

You nod cautiously, “From the city?”

“Yes,” you reply. “For the tourism project.”

Her face lights up like someone flipped a switch, “I’ve heard all about you! The mayor won’t shut up. You should’ve said so right away!”. She waves her hand, already moving back behind the curtain.

“Come, join us for dinner. I’ll set an extra plate.”

You glance at Seokmin, who just winces. “This is happening,” he mutters, “Just... don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Is this how you treat all your customers?”

“No,” he says, pushing open the curtain for you, "Only the pretty ones"

"That dinner was...something", you say to Seokmin, patting your stomach, a small burp erupts forward.

The whole time was you eating homecooked meals for the first time in years, Seokmin's mom telling you stories about when he was a child, showing embarassing baby pictures to which you took photos off to tease him afterwards, and Seokmin wailing around afterwards.

Now, after helping them wash the dishes—his mom tasked him to walk you back to the offices or he'll never see the sun shine ever again.

"Your mom really knows how to cook", you say, already reminiscing the flavors you missed. Seokmin rolls his eyes, still not feeling solved from his life literally ending earlier.

"Promise me you won't spread those pictures", he pleads. You laugh at his request, "To whom will I share those even"

The night has dawned upon both of you. Seokmin shuffles his hands inside his pockets as you look up to see the moon and the stars shining brightly. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath as you walked slower.

Seokmin does the same, looking up to see what got you tantalized— "this would be the perfect time to whip out your camera and take pictures", he jokes.

You chuckle at his comment and open your eyes, "If only—I would stand here and do that definitely"

"But someone says to live in the moment so that I shall do", you smile, turning to him. Seokmin grew amazed by what you said, clearly signifying that his comment didn't pass by your ears earlier.

"Live in the moment", your voice trailed, "What does that mean to you Seokmin?"

He thinks about it for a bit, looking forward on the path— "For me, it's not caring about what happens around you. It's staying still and look at what's in front of you"

Your lips part at his words, amazed by the sincerity of his voice. Seokmin's head turns towards you and asks the same— "How about you?"

You only shrug in response, trying to find more things to say. “I don’t know yet,” you murmur, your voice quieter now. “I haven’t begun to start living in the moment yet.”

He hears it—the softness of your voice, the tired honesty in your words. And when he glances at you, Seokmin catches something in your expression that wasn’t there earlier: a flicker of something unspoken and that vulnerability you hadn’t meant to share.

But he doesn’t push. He continues to walk beside you, the silence between you wasn't awkward, but gentle—understanding.

When the office finally comes into view, tucked quietly under the sleepy glow of the streetlights, you both slow to a stop.

You turn to him with a small smile, “Thanks for walking me.”

“Would’ve been a scandal if I didn’t,” he says with a grin. “The mayor would’ve kicked me out of town.”

You let out a soft laugh and take a step toward the door, reaching for the handle—when— “Wait—”, his voice comes out a little too fast, almost like he surprised himself.

You turn back, brows raised.

“Do you..” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck, “do you have anything to do tomorrow?”

You shake your head. “Not really. Why?”

He shifts from foot to foot, clearly stalling, clearly overthinking— “There’s this night market down by the pier. Just something small. Food stalls, paper lights, probably a guy singing off-key with a guitar.”

You blink, smiling at the vision he paints, “Sounds charming.”

“It’s very locally chaotic,” he says with a sheepish grin. “I was thinking maybr if you’re free... you could come with me?”

He glances up, adding quickly— “Not a date or anything. Just a hang out. As your official part-time tour guide.”

You pause—just long enough to watch him squirm. Then, sweetly, “Okay.”

Seokmin's head tilts, “Okay?”, trying to sound it out to reality. “I’ll come,” you say, “For the guitar guy, mostly.”

He chuckles, bright and dorky, and his eyes crinkle. “Cool. Cool. I’ll, pick you up here? Seven?”

“Seven,” you nod.

There’s a beat of silence, both of you lingering. He gives you a small wave, backing away slowly, still smiling.

“Goodnight, ms photographer”

“Goodnight, mr wore a diaper till he was five.”, he chuckles in embarassment, that nickname obviously referenced from one of his childhood stories revealed earlier.

“Try not to miss me too much.”, he adds.

You scrunch your nose, “I make no promises.”

He stumbles slightly over the curb, laughs it off, and jogs the rest of the way down the road, waving once more before disappearing around the corner.

You wait a moment longer, your cheeks warm, smile refusing to leave. Then, finally, you turn and slip inside—heart fluttering a little louder than before.

Maybe tomorrow is the day you begin to live—and maybe he’ll be the reason why.

"will you stay?"

"just for one more night"

The town had dressed itself in lights.

From where you stood, waiting just outside the office, the street ahead looked nothing like the sleepy place you’d first arrived at a few days ago. Tonight, it was glowing—lanterns floated like fireflies overhead, strung between lamp posts and tree branches, swaying softly in the wind. The buildings, usually muted and gray, reflected hints of color in their windows, like even they were smiling.

You pressed your hands into your coat pockets to calm your nerves.

Then you saw him.

Seokmin jogged lightly toward you, his hoodie zipped halfway, his hair a soft mess from the breeze. He looked like he wasn’t even trying to be charming, but somehow was anyway. When he caught sight of you, his face broke into that familiar smile—wide, warm, just a little crooked.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone important,” he teases lightly.

You raise a brow, “I was. Guess you’ll do.” He laughs, mock-wounded, placing a hand to his chest, “Ouch.”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips curved up involuntarily.

The both of you rolled into laughter, falling into step beside each other as you made your way toward the pier where the market had set up. The breeze carried scents of roasted chestnuts, fried batter, and something sugary and citrusy that made your stomach grumble. The sounds of chatter, laughter, and off-key music grew louder with every step.

The market bloomed open like a painting—warm and golden, pulsing with life. Lanterns in soft reds and yellows swayed over narrow walking paths. Stalls lined either side, with vendors selling everything from grilled squid to sweet potato donuts to handmade rings and wooden toys.

“Where do we begin?” you asked, eyes wide. “Easy,” Seokmin said. “Food, then games, then more food, then regret.”

You snorted, “You’re really selling the experience.”

“You’ll thank me when your third skewer changes your life.”—and it kind of did.

You started with seasoned chicken, the spicy kind that made your lips tingle, and Seokmin couldn’t stop laughing at your reaction until he ate one and immediately downed his entire drink. Then came the sweet potato—warm and coated with sugar, which you both bit into too fast and burned your tongues, only to laugh even harder. You shared desserts, argued over which stall’s fishcakes were better, and took turns holding the plush prizes you won at dart booths.

“Look at this guy,” you said, holding up a stuffed pufferfish. “He looks like you when you get hit with spice.”

“He looks like me after hearing that insult.”, he retorts, mouth full with more food.

At a bracelet stall, you lingered too long on the beaded ones, and Seokmin noticed. He waited until you walked ahead, then slipped back and bought the one you kept reaching for but never picked up.

“Here,” he said later, holding it out casually like it was nothing.

You blinked at it, “What’s this?”

“Don't miss your chance and not get what you want—you have to live in the moment remember?"

You tried to roll your eyes, but your heart was already fluttering.

Everything felt brighter with him, even the lights.

Eventually, the two of you made your way toward the pier. You wandered off the path a little, finding a quieter dock tucked behind one of the larger boats. The water stretched wide and glimmering ahead, and the buzz of the market faded into a gentle hum behind you.

You sat stood side by side, the waves imitating the way you both swayed your bodies.

For a while, you just watched the sea, silent.

“Did you have fun?” Seokmin asked eventually, his voice softer now. You nodded slowly, a smile on your lips as you turn to him— “More than I expected,” you said honestly.

“That’s a relief,” he murmured. “I was worried I peaked too early with the pufferfish.”

You chuckled under your breath, then went quiet again. The lanterns above swayed, casting warm shifting halos across the dock.

“I like it here,” you said, staring at the sea. "I feel like I have a place to breath again". He didn’t say anything at first, just plain listening to what you have to share, “It gave me that, too.”

You looked over at him. He wasn’t looking at you; his head was directed at the sky.

And then—a whistle cracked in the air.

The first firework burst open.

A golden flare scattered above, showering light down like sparks from a dream. Then another—blue, then pink, then red. One by one, they bloomed and echoed, painting the sky in color and sound.

You tilted your head back, mesmerized— "Woah", you mutter.

But once the fireworks caught everyone's attention, Seokmin who had his eyes up earlier, looked down—he looked at you.

He watched the way your eyes lit up with each explosion, how you whispered “wow” under your breath without realizing it, how you leaned forward slightly like trying to get closer to it all. There was something so alive in your expression.

And maybe it was then that he reached for you.

Slowly, nervously, his fingers brushed against yours. And when you didn’t pull away, he let them settle—tenderly—between yours. His hand was warm; familiar.

You turned to him, startled at first, yet eager to see what his reaction was.

Only to see that he wasn’t watching the fireworks—he was watching you.

Your breath caught. You blinked once, twice—and then your eyes welled with tears. Not from sadness, not from fleeting joy, just from feeling deeply.

Like something cracked open inside your chest, “Thank you,” you whispered, voice trembling, heart thudding. “Thanks to you, I think... I’ll start living in the moment now.”

Your words hung there, suspended in the air between bursts of color and echoing cracks in the sky. He didn’t answer right away, he knew he didn’t need to.

Seokmin just leaned in, slowly, carefully, and wrapped his arms around you.

And you folded into him—completely. Your face pressed to his shoulder, your arms wrapping around his back. It wasn’t a grand kiss. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic.

It was something better—It was safe and it was home.

Above you, the final firework exploded in a thunder of gold, sending falling sparks across the night. But down here—under lanterns and stars, on the dock of a small town—you found something even brighter.

Seokmin.

"will you stay?"

"i ran out of time"

It was the event proper for the city's anniversary.

The fireworks yesterday night was merely an opening—a warm gesture and welcome for today.

Seokmin was still caught in his feelings; the hug, the 'thank you', and the moments that lead up to that ending still lingered in his mind. It was to a point where his mom had nagged him from smiling all of a sudden, daydreaming, and chuckling while eating.

She said he looked stupid, like he had hung the stars. But Seokmin didn't care—he was in love and he isn't apologetic about it.

The first day of the event needed his help. All morning, he had helped people move their stuff to the venue, carrying boxes, fishing with his dad, cleaning, and all sorts of things—but he was more occupied in trying to find you.

In fresh clothes and a bouquet of handpicked flowers, he sniffed and fixed them up properly, walking through the heaps of stalls he had helped set up earlier.

In Seokmin's mind, he was gonna see you and have another wonderful day with you.

But to his demise, he could not catch glimpse of you early on. Despite his best to search, ask around if you came by, he would get 'no' as an answer. Thinking that you were probably busy and chooses to visit the event later—Seokmin finds his way walking to the office on behalf of you.

The sun was shining not so brightly. It had a warm cast that soothed his skin rather than hurt it.

The distance from the venue to the office wasn't as far. He chose to walk instead of using his trusted motorcycle. There was also a reason why he didn't opt to use his motorcycle yesternight—Seokmin wanted to be with you longer than intended.

The office was bustling just from the outside. Seokmin could see from outside that people were busy, probably from the demand and stress of planning this event.

Patiently, he waited outside—hoping someone would notice him and tend to his needs.

And someone did, the person that introduced him and you in the first place. "Seokmin! What brings you here?", he asks, facing his phone to his shoulder to shield the ongoing call he had. "Oh, I was wondering if the photographer is here", Seokmin asks, a small smile on his face.

The staff grew conflicted, a recalling look on his face as he looks back inside—"You guys didn't meet each other?", he asked, confused. Seokmin shakes his head in response. "She didn't tell you then?"

"Tell me...what?"

"She's going back to Seoul today."

"will you stay?"

"no"

Seokmin wasn’t anywhere close to being a runner.

Maybe he had chased a few chickens for his aunt a few times, rushed around to catch crabs, or maybe got called to the Mayor’s office fast—but he definitely wasn’t a runner.

Yet somehow, upon hearing those words—his feet had never moved this fast.

"She's going back to Seoul today"

He barely heard the rest. The words rang loud in his ears, louder than the pounding of his steps against the gravel road, louder than the breath he couldn’t catch, louder than the doubt rising in his chest.

You were leaving.

His heart thrashed like a tide in his ribcage. The wind whipped against his hoodie as he turned corners, leapt across puddles, nearly knocked over someone’s laundry basket. It was almost funny—how he never once ran like this when you were still here.

And yet now—now that you were on your way out of this town that had somehow, impossibly, made room for you—he could barely breathe for the thought of missing you.

The bus stop came into view.

And there you were.

Sitting alone under the curved roof of the waiting shed, camera bag at your side, knees drawn up just slightly. You hadn’t noticed him yet. Your eyes were fixed on the road, unfocused.

Seokmin stopped a few feet away, chest heaving, lungs burning.

For a second, he just looked at you.

You looked the same from the day he had met you—and yet not at all. The same jacket. The same soft hair caught in the wind. But something about this was so different.

“You didn’t tell me.”

You turned sharply at the sound of his voice. Eyes wide. Lips parted. You stood up a little too quickly.

“Seokmin—”, your voice faltered. “Why are you here?”, you asked, genuinely confused about his sudden appearance.

“Why wouldn't I be?” he asked, walking closer, eyes searching yours. "After what happened yesterday night, you should expect me to be everywhere but away from you."

You looked away, guilt passing over your features— "I didn’t want this to feel heavier that it should be". Seokmin takes another step forward, “Then you should’ve at least let me carry some of that weight,” he said gently.

A long silence stretched between you. The wind rustled the bus schedule posted on the shelter wall. A motorcycle passed behind you and faded into the distance.

“My job’s done,” you said quietly. "I came here for work, and now it’s over"

“I know that it's over,” he said. His voice was low, careful. “Does that mean that what we are is over too?”. You looked up at him—eyes wet, but not falling. Thinking of a response, you only sigh in defeat.

Seokmin took a breath. A long one.

“I’m not gonna beg you to stay,” he said, a bit of a sad smile on his lips. "I think this town gave you what you needed—". Seokmin paused, rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous.

“I just wanted to see you. One more time. To say thank you. For all the little moments. For laughing with me. For letting me be in your frame.”

You laughed, breath catching on something in your throat. “Thank you too” you whispered— “For reminding me to live in the moment.”

That cracked something in him. He stepped forward. And without asking, without waiting, he pulled you into him.

Your head tucked into his shoulder, arms wrapping around his torso like you had done that a thousand times before. Like it was natural and like it was home.

The minutes slowed.

You could hear everything—the call of a bird, the wave of wind through nearby fields, the faint hum of a bus coming from far down the road.

“Will you keep in touch?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t answer right away.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes shimmered with uncertainty—but also something warm.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “I'm not good at those things”

“But,” you muttered, reaching for his hand, squeezing it tightly, “if I ever find myself lost again—I’ll come back to where I last remembered myself.”

Seokmin's heart ached at that but he acknowledged reality as it is.

The bus turned the corner in the distance. Its headlights cut through the curve in the road. You reached for your bag. Slung it over your shoulder. Exhaled.

“Goodbye, Seokmin.”, you waved.

“Not goodbye,” he said, smiling sadly— “Just give me hope that i'll see you again next time.”

As the bus pulled up and you stepped inside, he stood there in the settling dusk, watching through the window as you found your seat and looked out at him.

You pressed your fingers softly to the glass—then to your heart. And he lifted his hand back, smiling to himself as he waved.

Once the bus closed and began to drive away, Seokmin stood there alone, hand still raised, eyes not leaving the road until the last trace of you had vanished.

"Let me see you one more time"

"will you stay?"

"no. but I think you gave me something to come back to"

That sign of hope and connection Seokmin had wished from you never came to his aid.

After you left, he was waiting for a phone call or a small message. Maybe a sudden appearance or a note you had left for him. But it was all nothing.

Slowly, he had began moving forward himself. Seokmin had lived life much better this time in behalf of you. It made him think of how much of a hypocrite he'll be if he hadn't taken the advice he had given you—living in the moment.

So he did. Seokmin continued to live in the moment. Much more slower yet meaningful this time.

It was just another slow afternoon.

The kind where the clouds hung low, and the sea barely bothered to move. Seokmin was crouched on the floor near the dining table, finishing up late lunch.

The fan spun lazily overhead. The radio crackled with some old trot song. The same regulars wandered in and out of the store, bell chimes following each soft step.

He didn’t expect anything different.

“Seokmin-ah!” his mom called from the front of the store. “A letter came for you!”

He was still mid-bite, “From who?”

“Don’t know,” she replied. “But it says 'Seoul' in the stamp.”

That got his attention.

Seokmin wiped his hands on the hem of his shirt and made his way to the counter. And there it was—propped neatly beside the old radio like it had always belonged there.

Square. Sun-faded. His name written in gentle, curved handwriting he hadn't seen in months but instantly recognized—your handwriting.

His fingers hovered for a second before picking it up—carefully, like it might crumble. The front was a photo.

It wasn’t a landscape or a golden-hour skyline. No sunset. No sea.

Instead, it was him—mid-laugh, turning his head, a puff of sand still floating in the air. His mouth open like he’d just said something dumb, his hoodie sleeves flailing a bit as he bolted.

Behind him—blurry and in motion—you. Sprinting after him, arm stretched forward, a grin carved wide on your face.

It was chaotic. A little shaky. Off-center.

Seokmin was immediately sent back to that day.

The day he threw sand at you and you chased him across the beach, laughing like someone who had finally started breathing again. It was the first moment you both forgot time—forgot why you came, forgot what came after.

He flipped the card over, heart caught in his throat. The back was simple—only two lines written in pen, slightly smudged.

“The sea is still here—for the both of us.”

“Seokmin, the tide will guide me back to you soon”

[mcubuckyxlokisbitch]

SOLDIER BOY HEAD CANONS

Billy Butcher headcannons

Soft Head cannons:

He will fish out facts about you without you knowing,

sometimes we forget just because this man is all brute, brawn and muscle we forget this man is smart. He can trick you to revealing little small things about yourself without you even realising

This man is so protective of you, verbally and physically.

Deep made a joke about you being fragile and after the mission his teeth were all smashed. "If you have nothing nice to say about my girl you say nothing, you understand guppy." he said gritting through his teeth into Deeps ears. Not to mentions physically, translucent threw you against a bunch of boxes in the middle of a fight when your guard was down. Ben broke his spine.

He will pay for everything and anything.

When you were both walking down a street and your eyes was attracted to a beautiful gown while thinking about when will you ever wear. This man bought it and placed it on your bed that night.

He needs to touch you,

When you two are walking his hand is always around your waist tight. During mission briefings his hand is always on your thigh, when you both are watching TV you must be in his arms. In the car to a mission your hands are tightly intertwined especially since you get nervous a lot. When your brushing your teeth, he's always trying to snake his hands down to your-

No drugs for you princess (I have a feeling, Idk why)

Hes so protective of you, once a guy looked at you the wrong way too long, one minute Ben was excusing himself to go to the bathroom the next he was beating the guy up in an alley. "You stare at my woman ever again or any other woman like that, Ill scoop your eyeballs put and shove them up your nose asshole."

He knows when to discipline,

To him you're fragile, you're all rainbows and sunshine and smiley faces, when you mess up during a mission and Butcher or the Team gives you shit for it he does nothing. However does end up feeling bad and drops of your favourite snack in your bed.

Loves seeing you wearing his shit

But will complain sooner or later why his shirts are always going missing 😭

Smut underneath the line minors you know what to do, GTFO ♡♡

Dialouges ♡

"A towel ? For what ?" "If your a squirter your fucking squirting all over my face. Tell me to pull out a towel ever again I'll make you fill up an entire tub with your juices babygirl."

"A little blood never scared me sunshine."

"Give daddy one more princess."

"C'mere baby give daddy a twirl"

Scenes

When you squirt it drives him feral, Ben is gonna just lick his lips grin at you and do what he did before but rougher just so you'll do it again.

Ben needs eye contact, "Come one princess open those eyes for me. Look at me when you cum."

The hate sex is gonna be so painful but sooo worth it.

Hes very traditional, hes a no instrunment person, no whips or cuffs, maybe hell tie you with his own tie but this man is gonna bound you with his own hands while he fucks you rough.

Sex everyday (anytime, anywhere, baby boy I can misbehave)

Funishments vs punishments, his funishments r when you wear smthng skimpy, roll your eyes at him but when your dissobeying him in bed the punishments are painful

Punishments is when he'll leave a vibrator on you edging you with a remote control in his end for hours and not letting you cum for a week.

A//n : never wrote smut bare with me im still learning from pure imagination.

[goodlucktai]

could you please do 29 for dialouge prompts, leo and donnie?

dialogue prompts

29. “Tell me where it hurts, and be specific.”

x

When they were little, Donatello’s twin was his translator. 

Donnie was the last of the turtles to start talking—though the first to start reading and writing and dismantling kitchen appliances—and no amount of coercion or bribery or outright begging was enough to get a single word out of him in English or Japanese before he was good and ready. 

Splinter was in over his head already just by having four unplanned children to raise who were not even the same species as him. He fretted about his sons’ health and their development in those early years, and had absolutely no one he could turn to for regular parenting advice, let alone advice on what was and was not normal for mutant turtle children. 

He tells the story now with a rueful good humor granted only by hindsight and a decade and a half of distance, but at the time, Donatello refusing his second meal in a row while blinking silently in face of his father’s increasingly worried questions probably would have driven Splinter to tear his fur out if not for the contribution made by Donnie’s talkative striped shadow. 

“It’s the, uh, the red things, daddy,” Leo piped up. “He doesn’t like those.” 

Splinter blinked at him, and then down at the plate Donnie was refusing to so much as look at it. 

“The tomatoes?” he said. 

“Tomatoes,” Leo parroted. “They’re hard outside and squishy inside. He doesn’t like things like that. And they touched everything else so all of it is no good now!”

Never having considered that texture, of all things, could be the issue—and kicking himself for it—Splinter scrambled a fresh pair of eggs for his stubborn little softshell. He skipped the cherry tomatoes, and sliced a bell pepper instead that he made sure to put on the opposite side of the portioned plastic plate. 

Donnie sniffed his fresh plate of plain eggs suspiciously, but it passed his inspection. He crunched into a piece of bell pepper so eagerly that he must have been hungry. Splinter sank back in his chair with an exhale that left him feeling like a deflated balloon. 

Leo, eating the discarded tomatoes out of Donnie’s original breakfast, giggled at him. He was the first of Splinter’s babies to start speaking, and the sound of his bright voice tripping eagerly over clumsy human words rarely failed to coax a smile out of his father. 

“Thank you, baby,” he said, poking Leo on the edge of his beak and earning himself another peal of bubbly laughter. “I’m glad one of us speaks Purple’s language or I might have set us up for failure big-time.”

“‘Course I do! ‘Cause we’re twins!” Leo said, with only half an idea what the word meant, but happy for any reason to be one of a pair with his best friend. Donnie knew very well what the word meant and simply nodded along, because he was happy, too. 

Now that they’re older, and Donatello no longer needs a translator, he finds himself returning the favor instead. Leo is far from nonverbal—Leo talks too much—but he hardly ever actually says anything. He can pontificate and harangue and lecture to lengths of absolute absurdity without giving a single word of substance away that he doesn’t want to give away. 

Donnie can read him like a book. Like one of his favorite books that he doesn’t actually have to read, because he knows every page by heart. 

The summer after the world didn’t end, Donnie’s twin becomes someone unfamiliar. 

He’s self destructive in ways that aren’t immediately obvious. He seeks out things that scare him, lingering above the death drop an extra second even though he’s been afraid of heights since he was fourteen. 

It’s obvious that he’s trying to train himself out of weakness. No more childish fears, no more lazy Sunday mornings, no more silly Nardo. 

Raph and Mikey have clocked it, too, in their own ways. At first Raph was pleasantly surprised when Leo beat him to the dojo for training, ribbing him amicably when he was also the last to leave. But then Leo started turning down Mario Kart tournaments and ninja tag in favor of shutting himself away and working working working to correct an internal ugliness that just doesn’t exist. Mikey’s used to being the exception to every rule, used to arms opening for him wherever he goes, and the way his sweet, sunny smile slips every time Leo talks around joining him on the sofa for Kitchen Nightmares reruns—or explains away why he’s skipping dinner—is one of the worst things Donnie’s ever seen. 

At the very least, Leonardo doesn’t lie to Donatello’s face. He’s stopped looking him in the eye altogether. 

You’re not going anywhere without me, Donnie thinks at him, ready to dig in his heels and fight like hell. 

It’s hard to say how long it would have gone on, but one late night Leo limps home from a solo patrol and Donnie is waiting for him, arms folded, tolerance for foolishness nonexistent. 

“What, are you tracking me?” Leo jokes half-heartedly. And then, when Donnie doesn’t blink, he adds, “Wait, actually?”

“Don’t waste my time with questions we both know the answer to,” Donnie says, and points Leo directly towards the medbay. Leo, who had been angled toward the bathroom instead, likely because he can close the door and suffer in private with no one the wiser, sighs loudly and course-corrects. 

The overhead lights in the medbay hum to life when Donnie flips the switches. Leo looks over his shoulder to gauge how far those lights have traveled past the open door, restless with wondering if he’s going to have to save face in front of someone else. 

All of this? All this behavior? Donnie hates this. 

Larger-than-life Leonardo seems smaller as he boosts himself up onto the edge of the bed. The infirmary is the one place he never puts on airs, the one place he takes seriously because his family’s health and safety has never once been a punchline to him. He peels off all his false layers at the door. He’s back to not meeting Donnie’s eyes. 

“Tell me where it hurts, and be specific,” Donatello says. 

“Your bedside manner could use some work,” Leonardo replies. His attempt at wily good humor limps along a lot like he had limped through the front door, like the least funny thing in the world. “That’s why between the two of us I’m the team medic.”

“And I’m two minutes from pulling the fire alarm and making this a house party,” Donnie says frankly. His tone isn’t gentle, isn’t quite angry. He’s somewhere in the middle, gentleness and anger fighting for the spot that affection has never once surrendered and never once will. 

He hates the way his twin’s eyes get wet, staring down at his own knees, knuckles stark white and standing out like a string of pearls where his hands are bunched in the thin blanket he’s sitting on. He hates that it’s come to this, the quiet of midnight in the medbay, one of the brightest lights in Donnie’s life dimmed and miserable and so clearly struggling. It’s laughable that Leo really thought he could have hidden it forever. 

Donnie sits beside him on the bed and says, “What if I quit?”

The non-sequitur takes Leo by surprise. He was clearly expecting a full frontal assault and glances sideways at Donnie briefly. 

“Quit what?”

“My bad, I should have been more specific,” Donnie allows. “I meant, what if I quit being a ninja? I have better things I could be doing, and I don’t like getting hurt.” Leo is staring at him fully now, totally bewildered. Flabbergasted, even. It melts some of the sternness Donnie has been careful to shore up for this conversation. “Would you love me less?” he asks. 

It would have been kinder if Donnie had slapped him. “Don’t say that,” Leo says, barely any air behind it. 

“Are you more capable than I am?” Donnie steamrolls on. “Are you better than me?”

“Of course not. I don’t think—I didn’t say—”

“Then why do you have to be perfect if I don’t?” Donnie presses the advantage ruthlessly. “Why aren’t you allowed to struggle and doubt and spectacularly fuck up every now and then without raking yourself over the coals for it?” 

Leo glances over at the door automatically, like Raph is going to be summoned by the bad word. He’s sixteen, he’s just sixteen, Donnie wants to scream it loud enough that those resistance fighters in Casey’s future could hear him, the ones who thought it was a halfway decent idea to put a child in charge. 

Earlier Donnie thought that Leo looked smaller here. Now he thinks he can tell by looking how much weight his twin has lost since June. There’s a deficit of Leonardo in this world and his whole family is feeling it keenly. 

Raph wants to scoop Leo off the sofa when he stays up too late and tuck him into bed, wants to listen to Leo filling the comms with chatter on those nights when patrol stretches long and dull. Raph misses his little brother, the gossipy, gangly, growing up little turtle that Raph used to be allowed to carry everywhere.

Mikey wants to bicker over who gets to play Sonic in Smash Bros and eat cookies while they’re still hot from the oven with the person he admires so much, who taught him all the best cheats in Smash Bros and that fresh sugar cookies in the falling apart stage, pre-icing, are better than ones that have cooled. 

‘Sometimes you gotta get burned to get results,’ nine-year-old Leo had announced, but he was always the one who lifted the cookies off the sheet pan, he never let Mikey burn his fingers.  

That goofy, clever kid who was always getting them all into trouble and talking their way out of it again is worth a thousand made-up Master Leonardos. 

Leo keeps his face lowered, shoulders hunched, because he knows what he’ll see if he scrapes together the courage to meet Donnie’s gaze. He’ll see the love blazing in his twin’s face like one of those digital billboards towering above Times Square, and somehow he’s convinced himself he doesn’t deserve it. 

Donnie doesn’t give a damn what Leo has decided he deserves. Donnie’s going to love him anyway, on purpose, whether he likes it or not. If Leo wants to grow up so badly, then he can stop acting like a kid pushing vegetables around on his plate and swallow the truth. 

It’s okay if he doesn’t grow up yet. They can be kids awhile longer. It’ll be like when they were babies, when Donatello would rather go hungry than stomach certain foods. Leo never let Donnie sit alone at the breakfast table, keeping him cheerful, babbling company, even when their brothers had moved off to play. 

This time Leo is the picky eater, willing to go hungry and sit alone at the table. But Donnie learned from the best. He's returning the favor.

Donnie isn’t going anywhere without Leo, either.

[kadentherabbit]

Can you do Tate Langdon jealousy sex? Like someone came over and they were being flirty??

The only friend you’ll ever need.

Divider by @/enchanthings

i am back 😈😈 but i am still rusty so be nice to me.

this fic IS proofread!!!!! This fic includes Tate thinking about murder, Tate is in fact dead in this, very small amounts of dialouge, uhhhh sex, ass slapping, no aftercare, and a very lazy ending :(.

Tate watched as that stupid guy friend of yours finally left, he had to resist the urge to just snap that guy's neck when he was leaving your room, it wouldn't matter either way because Tate would never let him in the house ever again, over his living body would you ever speak to him again. He didn't understand how you were so oblivious to the guy's flirting, his hand would slide over your thigh a little too close to your crotch, or the way he would deepen his voice just to answer a simple question. Tate saw through the whole act, that he wasn't just trying to impress you, he was trying to get into your pants.

Tate stood in your doorframe, watching as you brushed out your hair and focused on the small amount of essay you had left to write, putting down the brush and replacing its empty spot in your hands with the pencil so you could jot down the ideas that had came to your head. He stood there for a few seconds longer without you noticing before taking a few steps closer, his feet made no noise against the creaky floorboards, ones that would alert you of anyone's presence if they weren't in fact dead and weightless like Tate was.

You felt his cold and slender fingers drag along your shoulders first, not staying there for long before moving up to play with your hair, twirling the soft strands around his fingers before pulling his hand away with a sigh, his eyes meeting yours in the vanity's mirror. The same cold and lifeless look he always had, yet, it had a slight hint of anger that you could pick up on. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, waiting a second to speak to see if you could find out what was angering him this time before saying anything.

"What...?" You asked in a confused tone, turning around in your seat to face Tate. His eyes only moving down so he could stare at you more and just look angrier for no specific reason...well, no specific reason yet. "Whats wrong with you?" your tone switched to a more teasing one, head gently tilting to the side, Tate's hands once again tugging up from his sides to squeeze your cheek with a small amount of force.

small....tiny tiny time skip because I can't think of Tate dialogue....

You couldn't think, Tate thrusting into you harder than you swear he'd ever done before, his mindless mumbling and growling filling your ears. He was pissed and his actions showed it. You were ontop of him, hands trying to grasp onto anything you could but the moment you were able to reach him or his hair, he'd just smack your hand away. All he wanted to do was prove to you that he was the only friend you'd ever need.

Tate grabbed at the flesh of your ass, holding onto it gently for a few seconds as he continued fucking into your abused and leaking hole. Even if you werent able to touch him, he on the other hand, was able to grab at and smack at you however he wanted. I supppose that was another part of his revenge plot, Tates grumbling finally turned into words, you had almost expected some types of praise to counter just how rough he was aggressive he was being with you.

"He's not better than me is he? He can't fuck you like i can, can he?"

He almost sounded insecure with the way he whimpered at the end of his words but before you could answer his questions, he was cumming inside of you for the second time in about ten minutes. Tate's teeth gently dug into the soft skin of your neck and eventually your shoulder while he pushed himself further into you so he could really fill you up. More small whimpers flooding from the ghosts mouth as he emptied himself into you and your finger nails dug into the cold skin of his back.

You clenched around him as your orgasm finally took you over, shaking slighlty as your nails left cresant shaped marks in his skin. The two of you almost stuck together due to the large amount of sweat that had started to pool over your bodies. Tate only started to pull out of you when he noticed your shaking had stopped, not wanting to overstimualte you or hurt you in any way.

He looked down at you, with the same cold eyes that glared at you with anger earlier that day, the anger now completly gone. Tilting his head as he looked over your fucked out body, he wouldve stared at you for the rest of the day if he didnt hear the sound of the main door being knocked on. The sound of that stupid friend of yours yelling about leaving his phone in your room, low and behold, his phone sat on your night stand. Prompting Tate to give you a parting kiss, and eventually leaving you alone in your bed, sweaty, fucked out and naked, oh and that guy yelling about his phone, fun.

[consistencynevermether]

Hellooo I absolutely love your writing and Vere series!! I was wondering if maybe you could write Vere reacting to the MC getting pretty injured?? From a Soulless or otherwise? Thank you so much!! <333

I'm so glad you like the series!! this fic got a little long, its just so much fun to write vere dialouge. Thank you for the ask!

content: vere x gn! reader, SFW, cannon typical swearing and mentions of serious injuries, 2.5k words

52. That's how many tiles you had counted on the ceiling of Kuras’s clinic so far. You had woken up about an hour ago, your shoulder bandaged, laying in one of the beds in Kuras’s clinic, with Vere standing on the other side of the room, pacing back and forth. When you woke, he barely spared you a glance and continued to pace, the clicking of his heels was the only sound in the room. 

You were in trouble. Big trouble. 

You tried to piece together your memories of what happened earlier that night. Your head was pounding, but the memories returned to you easily enough. 

You had been working at the clinic earlier and Kuras had asked you to deliver something to Ais. You had plenty of time to deliver the package, but you got caught up talking to Ais and petting Princess. By the time you were out of Ais’s territory, it was already sundown. You weren't too worried about it though. You had killed a few soulless since getting to Eridia, and you had the dagger Mihn had gifted you strapped to your thigh. But this one was different. It was bigger, stronger, faster than any of the other soulless you had thought before. You put up a good fight. You were smart and dodged when you needed to, struck its weak points with the dagger, and gave the fight all your focus. But this soulless was simply out of your skill range, and all it needed was one chance to latch on, and you were down. The soulless had found an opening and taken a massive chunk out of you, its rotting fangs sinking into your shoulder. 

Everything after that was just darkness. Until you had woken up in one of the clinic rooms about an hour ago. You don't know how you got there, but Vere was there when you woke up, and clearly not happy with you. 

You wanted to fix this before it became a problem. Vere had a nasty habit of being upset with you and instead of telling you why he was upset, he would simply avoid you, and you would have to track him down. The last thing you wanted was to try and track him through Hightown with an injured shoulder, so it was best if you talked this out now, while he was pacing back and forth in your room.

“Hey,” you cautioned. “So uh, I don't suppose you know how I got here?” you asked. 

Vere looked down at you, his mouth twisting into a combination of a cruel smirk and a grimace. 

“Oh you mean how did you end up at the hospital? The hospital run by the most insufferable person in all of Eridia? With half of your shoulder missing? Is that what you mean? Is THAT what you're asking me right now? Or MAYBE your asking about the part where I found your stupid ass half dead and bleeding out in the filthy fucking street, and had to drag you all the way here.” 

A tight, fake smile was plastered on Vere’s face as he spoke, while rage stormed in his eyes. You don't know what you said wrong, but it was most certainly wrong. You had never seen Vere so pissed at you before. 

You cleared your throat, not yet ready to throw in the towel and give in to Vere's anger. You could still talk to each other like the civil adults you were.

 “Well, thank you for-” you started

“THAT’S WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF? THANK YOU?” Vere bellowed, looking more unhinged by the second. 

Welp, so much for civility. 

“Well, what do you want me to say, Vere?” you snipped, annoyance bleeding into your tone. You already had a headache from the blood loss; you didn't need someone yelling at you, either. 

“Oh no, you do not get to have an attitude with me.” Vere snapped back. “Can you even comprehend how lucky you are? The only reason I found you was because the Sinobium had been getting complaints in Lowtown about the soulless. If not for that, I would be in Hightown right now doing jack shit while YOU would be a corpse cooling in the grime.” 

“I'll be more-” 

The words caught in your throat. What you wanted to say was “I'll be more careful”.

But you had been careful. You were alert, you traveled on all the best-lit roads, and you were armed. You had taken every precaution. And you had still nearly died. You couldn't hold back the bitter feeling at how outclassed you had been, especially since if Vere saved you, that meant he had probably killed the soulless that had taken you down with barely any struggle. There was nothing you could have done to have made that fight go any better. 

“What do you want from me, Vere? To just hide in my room two hours before the sun even begins to set to ensure nothing ever happens?” 

“Yes?!?!?” Vere responded as if it was the most obvious answer to exist. 

“Vere, I have work to do. That's obviously not feasible. And even if it was, I won't live my life in fear of the darkness.” you countered. 

Vere threw his head back and gave a bark of laughter.

“You know what, you're so right.” Sarcasm dripped in Vere's voice. “What is the worst that could happen after all? It's not like there's a risk of you DYING IN THE STREETS.” 

When Vere got mad, it made you more aware of the monster he was. When he yelled in rage, you could see all his fangs. When he waved his hands around in exasperation, you could hear the claws whiff against the air, as if they were sharp enough to cut through even oxygen. His ears were pressed flat against his head, and there was a snarl to his voice. This changed nothing to you, of course. You always knew what he was. He was just so good at disarming people with his charm, it was easy to forget he was built to be a killer. Even you, one of the people closest to him, were not immune to his disarming act. 

You opened your mouth to counter, but the words died in your throat once again. He made a good point. It wasn't a feasible point, but you understood his rage. You were really just arguing with him to avoid the shame you felt at how absolutely outclassed you felt. You couldn't just hide away from the world, you were working on top of trying to find a way to cure yourself and free Vere. You couldn't afford to just hide away and live in fear. But with that being said, if you had been in his position tonight, you would be just as upset. 

Damnit. 

After a long pause, you finally spoke again. 

“I'm sorry. I can’t put my life on hold because of this. But I will be more cautious when the sun sets. And I will keep training so next time I can get away. That's the best compromise I can offer you. And I am sorry Vere. I didn't mean to upset you. Or almost die.” 

You tried to give the last part of that sentence a lighthearted tone, in an attempt to lift the mood.

You expected more yelling. But instead when you looked at Vere, he was just quiet. After a few more agonizing moments of silence, you half expected him to walk out right then and there. Or throw a chair at your head. 

But to your shock, he simply hung his head and sat down on your bed.

You quickly scooted over to make room for him. 

He let out a long sigh and unceremoniously leaned down to flop his head on your chest. After a few moments, you felt like it was safe enough you could start gently stroking his head. 

You lightly petted the base of his ears and ran your fingers through his hair. For a moment, everything was calm.

And then your fingers hit something wet and sticky in Vere's hair. You looked down at your hand, and your fingers were red. 

Blood.

Shit shit shit shit. Did he actually get injured when he saved you from that soulless? You hastily pushed Vere’s face off your chest and grabbed his chin, roughly tilting it to your line of sight to look for injuries. 

Vere looked shocked for a second, but easily removed your hand from his chin like it was nothing. 

“What exactly was that for?” he questioned, irritation noticeable in his voice.

But you couldn't answer. You could only focus on the fact that he was covered in blood. It was obvious. How the hell did you not even notice until now? The blood didn't really show on his black clothes, but red was splattered on his face and had matted half his hair, making it look wet. Vere did already naturally have a very red pallet, and it wasn't uncommon to see him covered in blood at all. But still, how were you so focused on arguing with him you hadn't even noticed that he was covered in blood?

You could feel a pit of guilt and fear well up inside you. 

“You're injured, I'm getting Kuras” you firmly stated. 

Kuras and Vere may not like each other, but you knew Kuras wouldn't turn away anyone. And if Vere was too proud to ask for help, you'd gladly do it yourself. 

As you stood, you felt a pair of clawed hands wrap around your waist and pull you back down onto the bed. 

You tried to twist around and squirm free, but it was useless. Vere wasn't hurting you, but his grip was firm enough that you wouldn't be able to force your way out. 

“Vere don't be childish, y-”

You heard a sigh from behind you as Vere rested his chin on your shoulder.

“This is your blood, not mine” he mumbled.

Ah. you once again tried to squirm out of Vere's grasp, and this time he released you with another sigh. 

You sat down on the bed properly and faced him. Your blood was everywhere. It splattered across his face and completely coated the right side of his chest. Drip lines of blood ran all the way to his knee on his left side and both his arms were coated in red.

You subconsciously moved to touch your shoulder, it was a little sore and stiff, but other than that fine.

Of course, you then remembered how Kuras had reattached your arm that first day in Eridia. You were on death's door then. So how badly injured had you been tonight? 

You tried to remember the details of your absolute pummeling, but it was mostly a haze. 

Not good, you could imagine. Judging by how much blood was on Vere, and how upset he was, you probably actually were on death's door when he brought you here.

But he had brought you here. Despite his hatred for Kuras, he had forgotten his pride to help you. Damnit, now you really felt bad for arguing with him earlier. 

You shifted in the bed again, this time you rested your head on his shoulder, and he easily adjusted, laying his hands behind your shoulders and lightly drawing circles on your back with his fingers. It tickled a little. 

“Vere” you mumbled into his chest. “I really am sorry.” 

There was a pause before he responded. It felt like a lifetime.

“You're just so vulnerable.” He finally whispered after a few seconds of silence. 

Once again embarrassment welled up inside you for being taken down so easily, but you knew Vere wasn’t trying to tease you about it. 

Besides you, Ais was his closest friend. And no soulless could touch Ais. And everyone else he knew, whether they be allies or enemies, was also strong. Or at least capable. Most of them could have probably defeated the soulless that took you down. It’s not that you were weak, it’s that you were new. You didn’t know this city like they did, and you didn’t have the experience they all had killing creatures like the soulless. You were painfully aware of how much you needed to improve. But now, you were also aware of how uncomfortable this probably was for Vere.

He wasn’t used to having people around him who could just die over "nothing", so you couldn't blame him for reacting poorly. He'd never had to worry over another person's life like he had to do with you. You must have seemed so delicate to him, like a glass sculpture. You could almost understand why he wanted to keep something so fragile under lock and key.

But you weren't made of glass. You were a person. You could evolve. You would get smarter, stronger, more skilled. And you would do just that. Because you didn't want to die in the streets. And you didn't want to upset Vere again. 

You leaned in closer to Vere, catching the scent of lavender on him. It was calming. Grounding. You could feel your eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion. 

“Vere,” you mumbled. “Tomorrow, come to my room, I’ll brush your hair as a thank you.” 

“I can’t. The Sinobium has me booked for the day” he replied. 

“That's fine.” you yawned. “I can wait till you get off. For now, I can wash some of the blood off you.”

As you said this, you began to lazily move towards the basin and sponge at the side of the bed.

You could feel Vere hold you a little tighter as you tried to move away. 

He didn't say anything, he didn't need to.

“Oh. the Sinobium wants you to go back to work right now, don't they?” you questioned. 

“Mhm,” Vere responded. “I've pushed their grace limit as it is, staying for this long. But I'll stay for just a little longer. Go to sleep.”

“You won't be here when I wake up?”

“No.” 

“But you will come to see me when you're finished, right?” 

“You'll probably be out working.”

“So wait for me. You don't need a key to get into my room. You made that evident with how much you come in uninvited. You didn't even need to steal my key that day we met.” You insisted.

Vere chuckled lightly at the memory and continued gently tracing circles on your back. 

“Vere?” 

“Mhm?” 

“You will come to see me right? You're not still mad?”

“I'm still mad at you,” he confirmed. “But I’ll be there.” 

Satisfied with that answer, you allowed yourself to finally drift off to sleep. When you woke, it was just you alone in that room. 

You weren't worried though, you knew a certain fox would darken your doorstep very soon.

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.12

WandaNat x Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Ch. Notes: It's a converstion so dialouge heavy, non-sexual nudity

Summary: Natasha and Wanda reveal their feelings.

An: Ok... ok late again, but tell me it's not worth the wait. (Please don't) Hopefully you love it because it's 2:25am but I'm still doing this for yall and yes if everything goes right new ch. on Monday

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wanda couldn’t look at you when she was speaking. You could see she was trying to find the words, but you didn’t know how to help her.

Natasha knowing what her wife is trying to say tries to take over.

“ Before I met you I was a little jealous. Seeing the love of my life light up talking about someone who was quite literally thousands of miles away, was a hard pill to swallow. I haven’t known you as long as Wanda, but I can see now why she had always spoken so highly of you.”

You want to interrupt the red head and say anything back to her, but you don’t. They had said they wanted to tell you everything before you spoke so you intended to let them.

“When Papa sent me away, I resented him for it. It was a great opportunity and a show of good faith, but I was angry with him because I didn’t want to leave you here. I thought we had grown quite close, little krolik. You were the best part of all my days. So much so that even thousands of miles away I couldn’t shut up about you. Even after I fell in love, you’d always find a way into my mind,” Wanda plays with her wedding ring as she speaks.

You look between the two woman silently urging them to continue.

“I’ve been many places, lived many lives, and have met many people, but I've never met anyone like you. There’s this light inside you that you keep so close to your chest. I can feel it behind all the walls you put up. I see it in how intensely you care about your family and I admire it. I admire you,” Natasha isn’t scared to take your hand in hers.

Wanda continues, “It’s hard not to admire you. If Natasha has seen it in these few months, it’s safe to say I’ve always seen it. I saw it before you put all these walls up, when you let it be known to everyone. I think that’s what startled me so much when I came home. I felt like a soldier come home from war to see his home was no longer his.”

The woman begins to get emotional. You reach out your other hand for her to take, not knowing what else to do.

“When I saw Wanda interact with you for the first time, I felt something. It wasn’t jealousy or hatred or anything like that. It was this overwhelming warmth. Seeing her hold you as if you’d disappear, seeing her smile as big as our wedding day, it made me happy,” Natasha recounts.

Wanda sighs, “When we were in my old room at the dinner I was terrified. I thought you were going to tell me the same thing everyone else had when it came to you, but you didn’t. You held me, dried my tears, and I think things really started to fall into place for me then.”

“I met Wanda when she was technically on a job. She was leading and in charge of operations. I had seen her get angry or upset on multiple occasions, but I don’t know if I ever saw her as mad as that night. I could almost see the steam coming out of her ears when she had Pietro against the wall. As far as I knew, I was the only one who could calm her down, but then you did it like it was second nature.”

You speak quietly, “She’s always had a temper.”

You think the woman will roll her eyes, but she doesn’t, “I have and you have always been there to calm me down. I don’t know how to say this, Y/n. When I met you, you were just my little brother’s best friend, but then you became my friend and then a part of my family. You were so delicate back then, you weren’t even 18 for Christ sake.”

Natasha tries to help her wife find her bearings, “But by the time she left you were 22 and you had grown into a young woman.”

Wanda shakes her head a bit, “You had done a lot of growing, that I didn't want to see, that I was trying to ignore because I didn’t want you to think that I had intentions of taking advantage of you. I felt like at the time I was too old, you were too young, and we were too close.”

You look at her with confusion on your face. There’s only one thing that she could be talking about in your mind, but this can’t be happening.

“What are you saying Wanda?”

For the first time in the conversation her eyes meet yours. You see the fear in them, the uncertainty, the desperation. Her hand let’s go of yours and finds itself on her bouncing knee.

“I don't want to ruin this and I'm so scared of losing you, but if you would’ve died in that alley not knowing that I’m in love with you it would’ve destroyed me.”

You feel your heart beating against your chest. Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to find your voice. You find yourself stuttering for the first time in years, “Y-you w-what?”

Wanda stands abruptly trying to run from the conversation. This makes you panic and try to stand as well. However, you forget about your ankle and yelp at the weight you put on it.

Wanda’s arms are quick to steady you before you do anymore damage to yourself. She’s close to you and you swear you can hear her heartbeat.

“D-did you s-ay-” you give up frustrated with your reappearing stutter.

Wanda’s grip on you tightens slightly, “I’m in love with you.”

“Wanda I- you’re married,” you look back at Natasha only to find her staring at you.

She stands from her place on the couch, and closes the gap between the two of you.

“I have my own feelings for you Y/n,” Natasha is confident as she speaks.

Her assertion makes you turn red, “Y-you also?”

Natasha smiles sweetly, “Maybe not love just yet, but I could see myself falling for you.”

This situation was short-circuiting your brain, it felt like you were dreaming. This couldn’t be real. As you stood between the two woman it felt like less of a dream.

“I loved you before they sent you away,” you blurt out to your friend’s sister.

Once you start it’s like the words just pour out of your mouth, “You were way out of my league. You’re still out of my league, I mean does it get more taboo than falling for your best friend’s older sister. You’re just so easy to love, but I never thought I had a chance and then you came back with a wife; a very beautiful, very intelligent, ex-Russian spy of a wife, and I just knew I didn’t have a chance.”

“The chance is now. Admittedly, we don’t know how something like this works, but I think we can figure it out together,” Wanda levels with you.

“If you're interested,” Natasha adds on, leaving the ball in your court.

“It would’ve been nice if you guys had told me before I got a cut on my lip. I could’ve done the whole dramatic kiss to cut you off,” you tease them.

Wanda rolls her eyes, “If I could shove you and you wouldn’t fall over, I would.”

“You talk to every woman you’re in love with like that?”

Natasha chimes in, “You get used to it after awhile.”

You share a laugh and when it dies down Wanda speaks, “So we’re doing this?”

“I want to try, but I don’t want to ruin your marriage,” you speak honestly.

“You won’t,” Natasha declares with certainty.

“How do you know?”

She thinks for a moment, “The love Wanda and I have for each other is endless, I’ve never for a moment thought anything could break it up. We’re not changing the way we love each other, we’re just adding you into the already existing dynamic. Eventually it should end with the three of us loving each other endlessly. Does that make sense?”

You nod slowly, “It sounds perfect.”

Natasha places a kiss on your cheek like it’s second nature to her, “Good.”

Your ears heat at the contact and before you can respond Wanda places a light kiss at the corner of your lips.

The movement leaves you wanting more. Against better judgement you try to lean down and kiss her. You succeed in placing your lips against hers for a brief second but as you pull away you almost fall again.

Natasha is the one to steady you this time. She teases you, “Someone is eager?”

“My ankle doesn’t want me to be great.” you pout.

Natasha hesitates, but delicately she touches her lips to yours. It’s as quick as your attempt at kissing Wanda.

“Your ankle won’t stop us, bunny,” Wanda looks at you with shining eyes.

Your face heats at the nickname that’s only familiar to you in the woman’s native language. The women chuckle at the pigment of your skin.

“We’ll see who’s laughing when my lips don’t hurt and I can kiss you properly,” you try once again standing on your own.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Wanda lets her eyes fall to your lips.

You roll your eyes, “Stop teasing, and help me get ready for bed. This has simultaneously been one of the best and one of the most painful days of my life. Truly unforgettable.”

Natasha speaks first, “I’ll get some stuff ready for a shower.”

“I’ll help you to the bathroom,” Wanda finishes.

It’s an all too similar feeling as you find yourself perched on the bathroom counter with Wanda standing between your legs.

Her fingers play with the end of your shirt. She looks at you for permission and you give her a light nod.

Slowly as to not aggravate your injuries she takes your shirt off. She’s careful as she unwraps the bandages from your torso.

“You’ll need help in there,” she speaks softly as her eyes scan your body.

“I know,” the pain starts to catch up with you.

Leaning forward slightly you rest your head on her shoulder. She smells good and it calms your nerves.

Wanda can’t help herself as she speaks up, “Isn’t this a familiar scene?”

You raise your head off of her shoulder and smile, “It’s ringing a few bells.”

Natasha enters the restroom with some towels and pajamas, “I’m going to get some food going, if you guys are alright in here?”

Wanda nods, “I’ve got her, Nat.”

Natasha nods and proceeds to exit the bathroom, “Just holler if you need me.”

Wanda steps away from you to turn the shower on. She’s back in front of you in no time.

“How do you want to do this?”

You feel nerves as you speak, but you try to sound objective, “I think you should join me. Not because I want to see you, not that I don’t want to see you. Its just I can’t really stand and-”

She quiets you down by pulling her own shirt over her head. Her feet pad against the bathroom floor as she makes her way back over to you. Wanda’s hands place themselves on the top of your pants. Her movements are slow but sure as she begins to pull them down. She takes extra care when they're around your ankle.

Once they’re off she takes a step back swiftly removing her own pants. The only thing left on both of you is your underwear.

The sound of the shower rings heavily in your ears as you watch Wanda take her bra off. You can’t move even if you want to. Your eyes glance over her chest before following her hands path lower. She’s not teasing as she removes her panties.

Once again you find yourself with her standing between your legs, but this time there was significantly less fabric in the way. She reaches behind you back to place her hands on your bra clasp.

“Y/n, do you mind if-"

“Take it off,” you finish for her.

She does as you say, a shaky breath releases from her. Your bra falls off your shoulder, but you keep looking in her eyes. Her hand slides down from your back and her finger hooks around your underwear.

“Take it off,” you repeat in a hushed tone.

She follows your instructions. Her eyes snap back to yours. The two of you stare in silence. There’s an underlying tenderness to the moment.

Wanda’s hand reach for your waist, “Ready?”

You nod and she assists you off of the counter. The water hits your skin and you sigh. You enjoy the heat against your bruised skin. Wanda’s hands stay in place for a moment just keeping you steady.

It's a silent delicacy as Wanda soaps up a towel and begins to gently clean your skin. You marvel at the lightness of her touch.

She turns you around so you face her. You look down at her and can’t help but brush your nose against hers. You hear her breath hitch. Carefully you use your hand to guide her’s across your body.

Neither of you dwell as she cleans every inch of you intimately. You lean against the shower wall a bit so Wanda has room to wash herself. You take in the details of her body as she cleans herself.

She gets out first and then helps you put the pajamas laid out for you on before dressing herself.

“I love you,” you say it easily when everything is done.

Wanda places a kiss on your forehead, “I love you too.”

Wanda helps you to the kitchen table. Your eyes find Natasha moving about in the kitchen.

“Almost done, I know you’re tired lisichka. We can eat then get in the bed,” Natasha speaks to you.

“Thanks Natty,” you look at her with your hand on your chin.

“Did you re-wrap her torso detka?” Natasha asks her wife.

Wanda snaps her fingers, “I knew I forgot something.”

“Take over here, and I’ll do it?”

Wanda agrees to these terms. Natasha goes to fetch the medical wrap and quickly returns. You’re sitting down, so Natasha kneels to be level with your torso.

Carefully with tentative hands, she lifts up your shirt. Her hand finds the small of your back, to encourage you to sit straight. You follow her instructions.

“Tell me if it’s too tight, okay?”

You’re looking down into her eyes and you momentarily get lost in them. The hues of green draw you in like emeralds.

“Baby,” she says again a little more firm.

You snap out of it and nod, “I’ll tell you if it’s too tight.”

She brings the wrap around your torso multiple times, each time looking for any extensive discomfort in your expression.

When she’s done with your torso, she quickly does your ankle. Your ankle was more sensitive, so she made sure to be extra gentle.

“All set, lisichka,” the woman places a kiss on your forehead as she stands up.

“Food is ready,” Wanda announces bringing plates for the three of you to table.

At this point exhaustion was knocking at your door. You eat in comfortable silence and once you’re finished, they help you to bed.

When your head hits the pillow, you almost fall asleep instantly.

“If I didn’t want to kill him for what he did to my father, I’d kill him for this,” Wanda says to her wife.

“The men involved have been dealt with already,” Natasha relies to her Wanda.

“You work fast malyshka,” Wanda places her hands on Natasha’s hips.

Natasha looks at your sleeping figure, “I’d move at the speed of light for either of you.”

Natasha ends her statement by kissing Wanda.

“I love you,” Wanda pulls the woman closer to her.

Natasha smiles pecking the woman’s lips once more, “I love you too.”

The two of them climb into the bed, making sure to give you adequate space due to your injuries.

“Why does this already feel so natural?” Wanda questions.

Natasha answers instantly, “It’s just meant to be like this. This feels like the final piece to our little puzzle."

Wanda was more than content with that answer, closing her eyes, unable to fight rest.

Somewhat like before, but entirely different at the same time, the three women lay together.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989

[0phantom0]

heyy! could you do a female reader x paige where they are dating and reader is feeling insecure so when they are doing ykw.. she asks to turn the lights off but paige comforts her ?? thank you!!

absolutely! Thank you for the suggestion!

Low Lights - P.B

pairing: Paige Bueckersx fem reader

warnings: kinda smutty and suggestive

I was at home cooking some dinner for tonight, I was exhausted but extremely giddy, awaiting Paige's arrival. Paige was staying the weekend at my place, something we had only decided last minute.

The pasta was boiling as I was stirring the sauce, the sharp smell going through my nose and sitting on my tounge, almost tasting it. I was humming a song I listened to earlier, a subtle buzz coming from the fan above. suddenly a soft knock could be heard at the front door, I tapped the wooden spoon on the side of the pot and then layed it down on the countertop.

Joyfully skipping down the hall and opening the door, I was met with a cool breeze but best of all, my beautiful girlfriend smiling blissfully at me. I looked down to see the beautiful orchids she had bought me, in a faded pink pot with a white, frilly bow wrapped around. I gasped in pure joy, my smile shining all over my face as I cautiously took a hold of the precious gift in one hand, and wrapping my arm around Paige with the other. " Hi babyyy" she squealed into my hair, streatching out the 'y' in 'baby' " Hi P!" I said, kicking the door open further with my foot. I grabbed her hand and pulled her inside my mellow house

" Smells good in here, watcha' makin'?" she said, pulling me backwards into her chest and nuzzling her nose in my neck "pasta" I quietly murmer, resting my head back towards her rocking slightly as I let Paige hold me in hers rong arms.

an hour later, we're sitting on the sofa, cuddled up together in a mess of limbs and love. My head is on her chest, arms fisted on her shirt, holding her close to me. P's arm is playing with my hair, while her other arm is stroking my arm softly. we're watching a film that KK recommended for us, Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind was the title, a beautiful movie, a bit strange at first but you have to understand it to relise the meaning behind it.

I was tring to pay attention to the dialouge, but that was difficult when I felt paiges dazzling eyes were practically burning holes in the back of my head. The movie now being discarded as background noise, the words now just mumbles we cant quite string together. I looked up towards her, to see her smiling at me, eyes scanning my face in love and adoration. Her hand travels from up my arm to the side of my face, stroking it gently. She leaned in for a kiss, our lips meeting like they were always meant to be together, day in and day out. Even though me and Paige have kissed almost a million times, they always feel as special and as wholesome as the first.

But the second kiss was slightly different, it felt more passionate, more needy, Paige's hand was slowly grasping my hip and my waist, pulling me on top of her. The kisses became more sloppy. She was kneeding my hips, as I was softly pulling at her hair and grinding against her. She started kissing down my neck, I was letting out small whimpers at the contact, then she bit my neck, slightly shocked because it stung a little, but it hurt.. good?. I moaned softly and the lewd noises riled Paige up as she began to move her hands up my stomache and towards my bra, unclasping it carefully. I was so lost in the moment that I didnt relise Paige's hands drifting down under my sweats and reaching for the band of my panties. My breath hitched but not in a pleasured way, suddenly feeling self conscious about myself.

"Is this okay baby?" Paige gasped into my ear seductivly. I was silent, I didnt know what to say, all the thoughts ran out of my head as soon as the words registerd.

Paige, noticing my disjection in my movement, immediatly removing her hand from my underwear, and moved her head so her eyes met mine. " Whats wrong baby? Is everything 'kay?" she said, worry laced in her tone and wearing a nervous expression. I tried to speak but my words got caught in my throat, the only thing to come out of my mouth was strangled sobs as I coverd my face with my hands. "Sweetheart please dont cry, i'm so sorry, did I do something wrong?"

i shook my head slowly as my hands lowerd " I want to I do, c-can we ple-ease turn off the l-lights?" I mumbled incoherently. " Why do you want to do that doll Is everything okay? Talk to me." she wavers. I sniffle, taking a deep breath before speaking " I just dont l-like how I look dow-n there." Paige moves her big hands up my waist and cups my face, caressing it softly " You know, your so beautiful and I don't think that anything like that would put me off loving you, I understand you dont think that you look good down there, but I promise you, to me you are more beautiful than anything, inside and out." She explains " We can try again another day, but i promise your the most beautiful thing I have ever layed eyes on my love. I think we should get some rest for now baby." She wipes the tears away from my face, kissing me sweetly. I nod moving my head to lie on her collerbone. paige moves her hand around to the small of my back and holds me gently, untill sleep takes over our lovesick souls.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Thank you for this suggestion! It was very fun to write, i wasnt sure If you wanted smut in it but this is how i thought it should have been planned out!

[joelsmochi]

hiii my request is for the dilf neighbor series. joel and the reader try waxplay?

la petit mort - joel m.

rating: E 18+ pairing: dilf neighbor!joel x pornstar!reader summary: part five ; after asking joel an unexpected question that distorts his perception of your relationship, he decides the only way to forgiveness is through punishment. warnings: porn with plot, slightly proofread (expect errors), waxplay, rough + unprotected sex (wrap it up this valentine's season, streets are saying no more scorpios), anxiety, angst, taunting, creampie, joel's competitiveness and possessiveness gets the better of him, m + f receiving oral, smacking/slapping/spanking, recording, joel expressing affection and emotions!!!!!, i love you's wc: 5k my thoughts: happy valentine's day and also happy one year anniversary to this series! i wanted to go more in depth with character dialouge/development so i hope you guys enjoy! xoxo

series masterlist | main masterlist

You could feel your pulse thumping inside of your neck, a bead of sweat forming at your temple that you desperately wanted to wipe away but were unable to.

While Joel paced around the room doing any and everything but touch or even look at you. You were unable to move, to reach out to him. All you could do was lie there and watch his anger slowly boil into a simmering lust that had his dick already stirring in his jeans as he prepared for what was to come next.

Your mind dwelled on the conversation that got you here…

“I wanna ask you something…” You said nervously, biting your already chewed up lip as he looked up from his book to see you standing at the door.

“Okay.”

“Just a simple yes or no, then we proceed. Deal?”

He chuckled softly and sat up in his bed, book leaving his hand to rest upon his worn nightstand.

“Go on,” he spoke once he realized it was a serious matter.

“I…” You huffed after a brief silence, itching your forehead. “I was wondering… If we could— or if I could shoot a scene with Tommy again…”

You figured the worst he could do was say no, but as his blank stare burned into your soul you knew that a no would have been much better.

And you felt stupid for even thinking it was an appropriate question to ask, but you figured Joel was more understanding of how free spirited you were or at least the simple fact that the relationship wasn’t labeled official or at the very least exclusive.

He was still silent and that was enough of an answer.

“Never—… Never mind.”

He called you back as quickly as you’d turned around, and it felt like your heart had completely given up on beating. Your throat was tight, and the attempt to clear it went unnoticed.

“Sit down.”

“Joel, can you just forget I asked—“

“Sit down.”

Joel was gutted, or at least it felt that way to him.

“Am I doing something wrong?” He asked, somehow finding enough courage to look into your eyes as he asked.

“No! No, God no. Ah shit.”

“Then what?”

“I want to? I don’t— I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“The truth.”

You grimaced, not because there was anything wrong with Joel, but because you knew your answer wouldn’t be good enough.

“I liked having sex with Tommy, and I wanna do it again with or without you.”

You found yourself regretting the words as soon as they came out and Joel’s shocked expression did nothing to ease your embarrassment.

“Fu- Joel. I didn’t mean—“

Your sentence was cut short by the door slamming behind him after he stomped away.

And that’s how you wound up tied to the bed like a fucking frog: wrists knotted to your shoulders, feet pressing against the backs of your trembling thighs.

Somehow, Joel convinced you to try this; maybe it was the guilt that boiled over from your chest to your tummy that made you eagerly agree. The sudden assumption that you weren’t exclusive seeming even more silly now.

You’d realized somewhere in the seven days of him being distant and disengaged that you’d do almost anything to make Joel happy, as he would you. No one else was worth jeopardizing what you two had, and while it may have come without a label you’d realized it wasn’t necessary. Not anymore.

Even though bondage was one of the last things that you’d ever think to put on your bucket list, it was spontaneous and a fantasy you were more than willing to fulfill for him.

“Joel,” you could just barely whisper.

He’d pretended not to hear you knowing you’d speak up if it was dire.

Your eyes bounced from the new crack on the ceiling to the dresser in the corner of his room to the back of his head. The room was beginning to smell like cheap candle wax and thick smoke. The severity of the situation suddenly becoming real for you.

You knew the nervousness simply came from a lack of interest and even bigger lack of understanding, not from not wanting to do it at all.

“Joel,” you said much more affirmatively.

“Yes, baby?” He asked once he was standing above you. He frowned when you didn’t answer as a tear dropped from your eye. “Hey, hey, we don’t have to do this,” he assured honestly.

“It’s not that.” You shook your head firmly. “I— I just need my left leg loosened up a bit.”

You could feel the nerves beginning to peak, feeling smothered by your own flesh and suffocated by your own lungs.

Joel wasted no more than half a second before he began to readjust the tough rope.

“That better?”

“Mhm.”

“You promise?”

You wanted to smile at his concerned tone but you just couldn’t.

“I know you said I had to wait but… I need a kiss. Just a quick one then I’ll be okay.”

His lips curled into a soft smile as they pressed against yours. The kiss was anything but quick. It was gentle, slow, passionate. He even slipped you a little bit of his tongue as a courtesy.

Even when the air went cold from his warm body moving away you were still comforted by his presence.

“You ready?” He asked.

He was finally standing behind the camera ready to press the little red button, waiting for your cue to do so.

“Remember what I said?”

“Yes,” you dryly said. “Be quiet unless you are speaking to me or let me make noise, use the safe word if I need to stop for any reason… Um… I think that it’s it?”

“Good.”

Beep.

He took a few more steps around the room before standing by your left leg.

You didn’t mean to gasp so loud or twitch so hard at the feeling of oil dripping onto your skin, and you’re unsure why you did it at all.

“Shh, I got you, princess,” Joel cooed as he began to massage your calf and foot.

Your nipples hardened and you could feel the cool slick that dribbled out of your pussy as you clenched around nothing.

Almost instantly your body ran hot, the lame touch of Joel’s hands rubbing into the least lucrative parts of your body somehow got you going. The wet spot on the sheets indicating just how depraved you felt after a week of no touching.

Then his hands went up your thigh, and you hummed against your lips in an attempt to keep quiet just like he asked you to. If you imagined long enough you could almost pretend his fingers were rubbing your throbbing clit instead, but as his hands maneuvered the hills and valleys of your body you realized he was willing to rub everywhere but there.

You felt like you were floating by the time he stepped away, high off of an orgasm you never had.

Your hips were aching from the position but you’d wanted to show Joel you could handle it. You figured the more you complied the easier he’d go on you, or at least the faster he’d get to being inside of you.

“Look at you… All tied up and spread open for me,” Joel said mostly to himself whilst taunting the hot candle above your navel.

His finger dragged from your belly button down to your weeping little hole and he pressed against it gently, as if he was about to insert it but teasingly chose not to.

“Who’d you make this mess for, angel?”

You let out a shaky breath. “Y-you, Joel.”

“Oh? S’that so?”

“Yes sir.”

He snickered as if he didn’t believe the pathetic pout you wore on your face.

“I promise,” you said.

He leaned his face down to yours and tilted the candle slowly, watching your pupils dilate as you watched the small bead of wax that threatened to fall.

“I think you made that mess for somebody else, hmm?” He whispered, breath blowing onto your flushed cheek.

“No, daddy, no. I promise. I promise it’s all for you.”

And yet, the glimmer in his eyes told you he would still drag it out.

He didn’t want to overwhelm you so soon, so he only let a single drop fall just below your breast.

You hissed, flexing your fingers and rolling your eyes back. The first droplet would be the worst, you assumed, but it only fueled the raging fire that was already burning in the pit of your stomach.

You needed him to touch you, to relieve the tension. To retract his promise of torture.

“Awe, I’m sorry baby. Did that hurt?” He teased. “Here, what if I did this?”

He let the hot liquid that was pooling inside of the melting candle splatter all over your abdomen with a big smile on his face.

“That help?”

You fought like hell to not cry out, huffing between your lips and using your body to release the energy instead.

Joel watched the candle paint pretty red lines and dots all over you, noticing a tear or two shed from your eyes. But you were being a good girl, not whining or screaming. You were taking it and it was the sexiest thing on Earth to him.

He put the hot candle back in its spot and cradled your head, shushing you and kissing your sweaty forehead.

“You’re doing such a good job for me, baby,” he said. “You reckon I should have manners and say thank you?”

You wondered, for just a few seconds, if it was a trick question. If you said yes would he further punish you for thinking you deserved a reward? If you said no then would he give it to you ten times harder?

Joel waited patiently for a response from you, biting back a smile when you nodded your dizzy head, moaning at the idea of finally being touched.

“You want it… Here?”

Your body shuddered when his tongue found your stiff nipple.

“Wherever you want.”

He softly moaned at your gentle voice, eyes fluttering shut as he took the rest of it into his warm mouth, tongue occasionally brushing against the coarse rope.

He began swirling his tongue round and round, using his free hand to fondle the other one and pinch the nipple gently. You hissed, neck arching off of the bed.

As moans filled your throat you tried to stop them from spilling over your lips; Joel took notice of it and began flicking his tongue just to try and break you.

You fought the noises you desperately wanted to make while your body futility writhed against the restraints. You wanted to whine and say his name, but you kept reminding yourself of his rules even though you were beginning to lose your already fickle grip on reality.

Joel pulled away just before your body got another opportunity to betray you. You could feel the twinge in your joints from being bent too long, the rope started to break skin. He was wearing you down, seeing how long it’d take you to break those “rules” of his.

Meanwhile Joel felt a bit defeated; he was certain you’d break much sooner than that at least once. But it just took one long look into your disorientated eyes for him to see how close you were to giving in.

With a smirk he then grabbed the yellow candle that had collapsed well within itself. It was a pool of torture waiting to pour all over you and drown you into submission.

He traced a finger down from your sternum to your clit massaging the sides of it gently to gain your attention.

Once he heard you happily exhale he asked, “You needed that baby? Needed daddy to touch you right here?”

“Y-yeah, ohh.”

“Feel good?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

He pouted, almost feeling sorry for making you wait.

“You poor thing. Lemme see that pretty pussy, hmm?”

Using his index finger and thumb he spread your lips apart, watching your hole clench and squeeze — begging to be filled.

He cursed beneath his breath and took his middle finger into his mouth, swiping it across his tongue lazily before slipping it into you.

He waited for you to moan, to reveal your delight, and when you didn’t he curled his finger upwards relishing in the slight little hiss he got from you.

Joel spit right where his knuckle came flesh with your entrance before shoving a second finger into you and quickening his pace. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, certain he was close to allotting you the privilege to moan.

Once he heard your juices squelch around his thick fingers he couldn’t help but moan himself, and he was ready to throw his rules out of the window much sooner than he expected.

But as far as being punished he was no where near done with you.

He let out a guttural moan, watching the frown on your face deepen and your chest rise and fall harder with every breath you took.

“Go’on, ngh- make some noise for me baby… Let daddy hear you—tell me how good I’m makin’ you feel.”

Just as you took in a breath to finally let out every noise you’d forced your body to silence Joel spilled every last drop of yellow wax onto your chest and stomach.

Your nails dug crescent moons into your shoulders while your throat burned from the groan you finally let out.

As the stinging from the hot liquid subsided you were finally able to open your eyes and allow your jaw to relax.

“Fuck, fuck- deeperdeeperdeeper— ye-esss! That feels so fucking good, daddy!”

Joel could feel the sweat building up on his forehead from how sexy you looked to him in this moment. He blew the candle in his hand out before discarding it lazily; his hand reached for your breast, squeezing it firmly despite it being completely coated in wax.

You felt his tongue latch onto your throbbing clit, instinctively you reached to grip his hair but the rope only dug deeper into your wrist causing a different type of burning to sear across your wounded flesh.

While you failed to conceal a single noise that desired to leave your raw throat you’d also failed to form a coherent sentence. Joel moaned onto your skin, relishing in the way your body shook from both the pleasure and the pain, ensuring his fingers kept up the pace that matched his rapacious aptitude.

The skills he possessed pushed you closer to the edge and he made sure to get you as close as possible.

“I love you, I love you! I’ll never ask for him again! Please, baby, please can I cum?”

Joel merely chuckled as he stripped his body from yours only a breath later, grin widening as he saw defeat spread across your face. You mentioning his brother seemed to bring him back to reality.

“No.”

“But- pl—“

“Shh, sh sh sh.” He leaned over your face and his smile softened. “Your punishments not done, sweetheart. But you can make all of the noises you want for me, okay? Deal.”

You weren’t sure how you felt, but you just looked into his eyes and said, “Of course.”

You couldn’t decide if you like this or not: not being the one in control was one thing, but being utterly powerless was another. And while you hated not being able to flip him on his back and make him listen to you, you loved how sure he seemed of himself for once. How he knew what he wanted you to do and say, when he wanted to hurt or comfort you. He was an entirely different person than the man who came over and felt scared to admit that he had found your porn.

So you nodded and toughened up despite the ache between your legs.

“Sure you can handle more?” He asked softly enough so that the camera wouldn’t pick the audio up. When you nodded he replied, “Good girl. I’m gonna turn you over, okay?”

Once your weight was on your knees and chin you could feel some of the wax chip away beneath you, along with your need for exploring other people. Joel was still attentive to the little things during what was meant to be your punishment. He pushed your hair away so that you could see everything before rubbing even more oil into your goosebump littered skin. He’d prioritize nothing above your comfort and that alone meant more to you than a random fuck for another check.

“Doing okay?” Joel asked making you realize you’d been silent since he repositioned you.

“Y-yeah, yeah,” you answered, swallowing the dryness in your throat away.

You watched as he picked up another candle and in the blink of an eye his dick was sprung in your face. With wide eyes you took a moment to assess your options — only one: your mouth… Which you happily opened.

“Tilt your head up a bi—therrre y’go.”

He held the hot stick of wax in his head steadily as he found a rhythm, his thighs bouncing off the edge of the bed as his tip met the back of your throat repeatedly.

Joel laughed as if the sensation was new to him, he couldn’t help but feel so fucking turned on with you beneath him like this. Your glossy eyes shone up at him like diamonds, shoulders tensing off and on again waiting for the hot liquid to drip onto your skin, and you couldn’t move.

A simply tap of your fingers or resistance from your mouth would be enough for him to stop, but you were too touch deprived to even think about the discomfort you may have been in… Too drunk off the manly taste of his dick stuffing your jaw, and if he would accept this as a good enough apology then you didn’t give a fuck.

Jolting from the sudden hot splash on your spine you accidentally tensed your jaw slightly around Joel’s cock, making him hiss but when he didn’t pull back or flinch you figured might have liked it.

So you did it again—much more carefully than before—feeling a surge of excitement when you felt it twitch against your cheek. You flicked and swirled your tongue as best as you could, watching his hip stutter from the feeling.

Spit was drooling down your cheek onto the bed, your mascara began to chip onto your cheeks smearing dark lines into the sheets, your body was wet with a warm sweat, and your pussy was absolutely soaked.

“You thinkin’ about suckin’ his cock right now? Hmm?” He smacked your protruding cheek, the one his cock currently crammed itself into, without an ounce of mercy before holding the candle dangerously close to your flesh. “Pretending my cock is his? You wanna fuck him again? Huh? Say it!”

You did your best. You really did. To answer him. But you were bound, gagged, and your neck was supporting all of your weight.

He tilted the candle without another thought allowing the yellow to stream from your shoulder blade to the small of your back. With you writhing and crying from the heat that solidified quickly he figured you’d had enough and more than deserved to be unbound.

Joel also just really wanted a fucking answer to his question.

He pulled out of your mouth, reaching for the knot and tugging it loose; once you were completely able to move again you took it slow, turning to sit on your bottom and stretching out a few limbs.

Without a word Joel held out a water bottle for you to take. You looked at him wondering what he was thinking, but his expression was unreadable. You figured he was still pissed and trying to get over it so you took the water and said a quiet thank you before taking a few sips and giving it back to him.

“How do you want me?” You asked after a few more minutes.

He blew out all of the last lit candles and came to stand between your legs; his big hands cupped either side of your face and forced you to look up at him.

“Still doing okay?” He asked quietly.

You nodded. “Mhm. I just miss you.”

His thumb smeared your single tear into your skin, then his other hand ran down your painted body breaking some of the hardened wax until he reached your clit.

“I miss you too, baby,” he whispered against your lips, dragging his finger in slow, soft circles. “Put your legs back.”

You winced at the wax crackling against your flesh but did as his said regardless. He pulled his dick into his hand stroking it languidly before using his tip to feel how wet you were.

When he felt the cool slick coating your weeping hole he chuckled, finding the desperate frown on your face amusing.

“Fuck- you’re such a pretty fucking slut,” he groaned as he sank into your throbbing cunt. His hand reached up to pinch your cheeks, and you grabbed onto his wrists for stability. “You wanna fuck my brother again, hmm?”

You shook your head profusely despite the grip he had on you. “N-n-no!”

Despite your efforts to protest against his words, you couldn’t form another sentence once he started thrusting into you.

Between his hips slapping against the back of your thighs and his dick rubbing against the most sensitive spot inside of you your mind was gone. Somewhere between here and there.

“No?” He taunted. “But you were asking for him a few days ago, weren’t you?”

You wanted to correct him, clairfy your intentions—whatever. But words were like putty to your brain, melting in every area that didn’t matter right now. It was his tone that stuck like glue. His grip on your face, the stern yet confused look he gave you, the way his rhythm never hiccuped or skipped; you didn’t think having Joel completely take charge would have you fucked out so soon, but you weren’t necessarily complaining either.

“I—“ You whined at a failed attempt to say something. “I didn’t mean it! I’m sor- I’m so fucking sorry, daddy…”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes, yes! I’m sorry. I’ll never fucking— I’ll never ask for him again! Please, Joel I’m—“

“Who fucks you better? Huh? Me or Tommy?”

“Wha—?”

Joel grinned down at you, hand moving from your face to your hair. “Who fucks you better?”

“You— Joel, you. I lo— You fuck me better than fucking anyone.” You wrapped your trembling legs around his hips, hands clinging to his face now. “My pussy belongs to you, baby. My pussy was made for you—Joel I’m gon—“

He couldn’t stop now, not when you were so close and trying to tell him you were going to come. As tired as his hips and legs were he didn't dare stop or slow down, forcing every fiber of his being to persevere through the aches.

"Whose pussy is this, baby?” He cooed.

“Yours-“

“Who?”

“You, daddy! Fuck— aghh- you, Joel-“

“Hmm?” He brushed his nose against your skin, eyes burning into yours with conviction. “Tell me again,” he mumbled.

“Joel! I can’t—fuck! I belong to you Joel, only you, please let me-“

He carelessly slapped your face, pinching your cheeks again. “You ever fucking ask for anybody else again—“

You were frustrated and on the fucking edge, just barely hanging on. Nothing could distract you from the knots your stomach was twisting itself into. You’d do anything…

“I won’t! Iwon’tIwon’tIwon’t—please let me cum, daddy…”

Joel was quiet for a second, pretending to debate with himself but he couldn’t resist the temptation any longer.

“Thaaaat’s it,” he grunted, “you’re doing so good for me, baby. Cum for me, give it all to me.”

You tangled your fingers in his sweaty curls and pressed your body into him; with arched feet and tear-filled eyes your pussy clenched around him tighter than he’d ever felt before. It was enough to trigger his own orgasm.

As the wax crackled in and against your flesh you felt pieces of yourself fade away. You were so overcome with freedom your body convulsed and pulled him in closer, deeper.

The obscene squelching between your bodies combined with your desperate whines pushed Joel to fuck you past his own climax.

“Fuck,” he breathed out loudly into your ear, though you didn’t necessarily register it, “pussy’s fucking grippin’ me.”

He kissed away the sweat and the tears from your flushed cheeks, his pace finally having faltered to stillness. Yet without much of a thought he slid down your body, his knees hitting the floor with a thud and tongue dipping into the clear and white mixture that placed itself everywhere.

He watched your cunt ache with emptiness, then filled you back up with his cum using his thick fingers. Your legs clamped shut as he immediately curled into your g-spot, but with a wordless smack to your thigh you hesitantly spread yourself wide again.

You cried out a worthless plea that only seemed to humor him.

“You were just beggin’ for it ‘n now you want me to stop?” He chuckled.

You opened your mouth to protest. “I-ahh, fuck…” But him sucking on your clit shut you up.

With his other hand pressed into the chipped wax on your belly he held you in place.

“One more, baby please,” he moaned between licks. “I missed this pussy so much…”

His pathetic tone gave him away, his insecurities. You assured him to keep going by tugging his hair saying his name.

You allowed him the privilege of tasting you and having you in whatever way he wanted. It wasn’t like he was torturing you…anymore.

And just a few moments later you were right there again — crying, whining, arching your back off of the bed and creaming around his fingers. You tried desperately to form words but the only word that left from behind your lips was his name.

With Joel writing love letters with his tongue you felt closer to him and God than ever and to never return down to reality.

He brought his eyes up to admire your pornographic expression, all fucked up from him, and finally he felt secure again. His sucking eased up as did his sore hand and he gently pulled away.

“Shh, shh, I got you,” he whispered after climbing back in bed next to you.

He pulled you into his lap and let you come back to reality in your own time; he massaged your back and kissed your warm forehead, subtly smiling when your limbs latched around his waist.

“You did such a good job, baby,” he praised, and you could only hum in response. “Did such a good job.”

“Thank you, baby,” you mumbled.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you… I’m sorry fo—“

“Shh shh shh… We’ll talk later, babygirl. How ‘bout we just get you cleaned up? Yeah? Okay.”

You were carried by him while he turned the dying camera off and then to the bathroom where he helped you pick off some of the wax after drawing a bath.

“I didn’t hurt you too bad now, did I?” He asked, grimacing when some of the wax was being stubborn.

“No,” you told him honestly. “I liked it, it was fun.”

He smirked at your reflection. “Yeah? Well listen, I don’t wanna have to do that again. Not unless you ask.”

“I’ll do my best to behave Mr. Miller,” you half joked.

“Uh-huh. M’sure you will. Come on the tubs ready.”

You sank into the hot water, hissing at the change kn temperature.

“I’ll, uh, change the sheets and then I’ll get in with ya… Okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled.

He took a few minutes to collect himself in the bedroom, wondering if he was being too harsh on you over a simple question. Though, it wasn’t really simple to him.

He felt he should have known or expected you to want Tommy again, or even someone else. While he wasn’t exactly fond of the idea he also knows that you have a job to ensure the security of.

You typically weren’t a woman to ask for a man’s permission when it came to anything, so the fact that you came to him meant more than he was initially willing to admit. And after your level of endurance today he saw how much more committed to him than you were to making content, so maybe… He could let it slide.

He found his way back to you soon enough and sat behind you as promised, smiling down at you when you looked up to him.

“I don’t even know why I asked,” you said after a tense moment of silence.

“I do,” he replied. “You weren’t wrong to ask me, sweetheart.”

“Maybe, but the way I worded it made it sound like… I dunno, like I didn’t want you anymore. And that’s not true. I shoulda… I should have known that—“

“You make porn, it’s not like you’re just asking to cheat on me,” he chuckled. “Well, it kinda is, but—“

“Stop,” you groaned and smacked his arm when he laughed.

“I get it. You have an audience to entertain, and I knew you weren’t tryin’ to toss me aside. It was the way you worded it, but I knew what you meant. And I’m sorry for holding out on you.”

“Joel, if I lost you over that… I don’t… I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

Nodding, he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your temple. “I know. I know. That’s why I’m willing to negotiate.”

“I don’t need that anymore,” you affirmed.

“I know, but… It was kind of fun. Maybe not Tommy again, but someone else?”

“I’ll think about it,” you promised. “But for now you and I need to make up for lost time, wouldn’t you say?”

“How can I say no to that face?”

His Punishment Felt Like a Reward...

577K Views | 97% | 2 Days Ago | ♡ 889

a/n: sorry it took five whole months to get this request done, but i hope you enjoyed it as much as i did! xo love you

I FORGOT THE TAGLIST UMMMM… SORRY😭

@miastinky (cant tag) @paulinnn777 (cant tag) @zloshy @fallout-girl219

[lynxgriffin]

You know, asriel showing up in chapter 5 would go really hard for 2 reasons imo.

1. One of deltarunes themes is about roles and stuff right? Who your meant to be, vs who you want to be, and who your viewed as, shit like that, and asriel, in deltarune, is sorta potrayed as this golden boy, who everyone likes and thinks the world of, but obviously, toby doesn't really write his characters to be perfect beings, so asriel NOT being who everyone idolizes him as, would really play into that theme, especially now that he's coming back from college, and is now familiar with a world where people presumably treat him normally instead of like, this figure as he's potrayed as by the townies.

2. If he and dess dated, it would parallel asgores refusual to move on from toriel, asriel ALSO had to let go of someone he loved, just like his father, only he didn't turn into a creep because of it, and unlike asgore, he probably doesn't even know if dess is okay, or even ALIVE, so i think it would be awesome to see him low key pissed at his father for not moving on, when he HAD to, like he didn't even have a choice on whether to move on or not, life literally just went on, and he had to, vs his father, who still could have been friends with toriel, who he still could have had some sort of closure with, when asriel literally was never given a chance to. But thats just fan fic shit since we haven't even heard him speak a single line of dialouge (Unless you want to include the crumbled up invitation to the dance with catty, thats in his church clothes, but thats written, and it sounds so fucking forced like my god dude, what were you on? Dude sounded more regal then ralsei and he's an actual prince in this world lol). Point is uh, he has a lot of potential, and i hope he shows up before the end of the world and shit.

Ooooh yeah, with how Asriel's been set up so far as the golden child, that's absolutely ripe territory for him coming back and unravelling all that idolizing. I want to see him be kind of a weirdo, occasionally a loser, someone with that awkward distance that comes between you and your family when you leave home for the first time and start to establish yourself. Just a normal person rather than this perfect child everyone's built him up to be!

Based on what he's said, it seems like Asgore feels that he's doing all this conspiracy stuff and "getting the family back together" for Asriel's sake. Which honestly, would make it really interesting if he tries his hardest at it, and then Asriel is the one critical of what he's doing! I lowkey want to see that happen now, honestly. Everyone's got this image of Asriel built up in their heads, including Asgore, and I think it would be fascinating for Asriel to turn that around completely. That he has grown up, he's tried his best to move on despite how hard it is, and he doesn't understand or respect Asgore trying to just drag them all back to the past. There's definitely potential there!