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yaseraphine · 3 months ago

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pick a card 10 - who is your future lover ? a full portrait

masterlist / ko-fi

my last reading : what's next in love ?

This is a general reading. Take what resonates and leave the rest.

ANNOUNCEMENT : Like I already mentionned in previous posts, I will soon open my tarot services (Ko-fi shop). Over the course of the beginning of next week, more information will be posted. The week after (7/04 to 13/04), I will publish the rules and all the technicalities that concern the tarot services. So if you're interested in having a personal reading with me, stay tuned for new info in the coming days !

Pile 1

Who are they ?

Core personality : Fixed - Stability, Persistence, Loyalty and Dependability

The core personality of your future lover is that they are a stable, loyal and dependable person. They probably have prominent fixed energies in their birth chart (Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius). Mainly fire and earth fixed energies. This person is really masculine, no matter what their gender is.

They are really headstrong, and do not like when things don’t go their way. They usually are the leader of the group. They are really good at managing money, and any material things in general. They can enjoy luxurious things, but aren’t overconsumers.

They are more traditional in their values, some might be religious.

They are the type to want to get married one day, HOWEVER I feel like now , and that is only for half of the people who picked this pile, they might not be exactly ready for a long term relationship. They still have issues to work on. For the other half of the people here, they are ready and are actively seeking a long term relationship. The person in this second group is really stable at the time, has a pretty good salary (some could even be quite rich) and they are looking to settle down. For the other group, the reason why they are not ready to settle yet is because your person is probably younger and does not have a stable situation at the moment.

A random fact that I am picking up on is that they like wearing costumes, and smell GOOD. You probably recognize them the moment they enter a room because of the smell that comes in. I don't know how to explain, they just have a strong signature scent.

Some of them could LOVE working, maybe some are even workaholics. I am just getting that they hate staying inside doing nothing. They are just really active people, the type to wake up at 5am or 6am on a Sunday morning to run or go hiking lol If you aren’t like this, my fellow Pile 1, they will help you go out of your comfort zone for sure.

Light attribute(s) : The Emperor

It follows what I said above, but this person is really masculine and a true go-getter. Really confident in themselves and their own abilities. They start a lot of projects and make sure they finish them in time. Probably quite extraverted, like getting attention (but only positive attention they don’t like embarrassing themselves in public lol I mean pretty understandable).

Again, they are a leader, they like to initiate things, they could plan your dates.

Their primary love language could be acts of service. Despite being a bit individualistic, they are surprisingly super service oriented. Could have 6th house placements.

They take care of their bodies, and I am getting that they are really good cooks.

Honestly pile 1, you will end up being pampered by this person. I am seeing a man carrying a girl on his shoulder because the girl feet hurts after wearing heels for too long lmaoo I am just seeing those (a bit cringy to me sorry) videos, especially on Douyin (help-) of those dark romance couples (without the TOXICITY OK) where the girl gets princess treatment lol If you like that, then it’s a dream come true for you.

(this list was more a description of positive facts about them then their light attributes but anyways lol)

Shadow attribute(s) : 4 of wands (and ace of wands)

They have a tendency to be really controlling. This person has a hard time handling their anger, or more so frustration when things don’t go as planned in their lives. This usually results in them panicking and they end up kind of lashing out on the people around them. Now, to reassure you, this person is not abusive or manipulative at all, they are a really honest and straight person. When I say they “have a hard time handling their anger” it is usually momentary and they genuinely excuse themselves afterwards. They are quite self-aware of their shadow traits it seems, because I kept on seeing them being ashamed of their anger issues. I feel like they are working on these issues consistently, and they are always walking towards healing these issues because I am really picking up that this person made tremendous efforts these past few years.

Another downside is that they can be too impulsive at times. They do have some patience though, but, sometimes, they get a lot of ideas and want to rush things instead of letting divine timing play out.

They also are a little bit too competitive and can take stupid games a bit too seriously lmaoo They are the type to flip the monopoly game board and accuse people of cheating, the kind to reread the rules and fact check them online to see if the penalty they got is fair or not. If you are like that too, this will be a funny pair haha If you aren’t, this might become really tiring at some point.

They also might be a little too cocky or ego driven at times.

MBTI : ESFJ

Life path : Life path 1 , The Warrior

Life motto : "Life is simple, get into the moment."

What do they look like ? Their vibe ? essence ?

Kibbe body type : Natural / Yang-Balanced

Here’s a description of this body type (i found this on reddit, but it does the work so don’t judge me)

“NATURAL: Usually of sturdy or athletic build. Face may be craggy with irregular features, or perhaps has a square jaw and wide-set eyes or simply a rugged and outdoorsy look. Might have freckles, and hair is rarely glossy.”

Face type essence

Romantic : keywords of this face type essence => indulgence, alluring, sensual, curvier, glamour, luxury, soft, and lush lips.

House Nine (+ Saturn) - Spiritual Growth

So, I am getting that your person, if they’re a man, most likely looks like those stereotypical handsome men in perfume ads.* I heard “handsome squidward” lmaooo. Go watch Addison Rae’s Diet Pepsi music video. I am getting the guy in the video probably looks like your future lover. Congrats, pile 1, you’re about to bag a hot one lol

They just generally look really sensual. They moisturize their skin thoroughly , both face and body, so they are glistening 24/7. I am getting that they look wet ?? They also probably wear gel on their hair, maybe enjoy having this ‘wet hair type of look”. Most likely has a goatee or a goatee with a mustache.

For women, I am not really picking up on much. The people that chose this pile are most likely going to date a man.

But, if I can say something is that, no matter their gender, this person could look racially ambiguous.

They also have a really daddy-like appearance (i am saying that because they have strong Sun, Jupiter and Saturn energies. really stereotypically masculine.). They also look reliable, intimidating and intense. This person might have Saturn in the first house or are cancer or capricorn rising. Even Leo risings or sagittarius risings for some.

*note : perfume or cologne or just scent is a big thing in this pile. This person or you or both of you could have a particular relationships with perfumes, and scent in general. You or them might work in a perfume shop, or something related to that field. This person might collect a lot of perfume and have a signature scent. Beware because their signature perfume IS NOT a popular one, really obscure high class brand (or they custom made it for some even). You might meet this person when you buy a new perfume, or when you decide to have your own signature scent.

Pile 2

Who are they ?

Core personality : Uranus - Radically change

Before pulling any cards, I already felt a strong rebellious energy from this person. This is most likely someone who lives on the edge with a unique job. A DJ, an OF girlie, or just a sex worker in general. Some of them could work in sex shops ? I am getting someone that actually MAKES the models for new dildos or sex toys. Like a sex toy artist ? creator ? (does that even exist ?). They could also be a psychic, a medium, or a tarot reader that works exclusively with sexual energy ? Some of them could also be strippers or exotic dancers. I am getting the movie Anora might be relevant for some here. This is going to be hyper specific but they could be a photographer that takes pictures of dead animals or corpses ? Generally speaking, this person works in a really taboo and unexpected industry. They probably have multiple streams of income. This person, despite being so freedom seeking, and loving novelty and thrill chasing, is really business minded and actually surprisingly stable (financially). They probably are really comfortable materially speaking. I am sensing that a lot of people judge them, but at the same time envy them because they are courageous enough to be unapologetically themselves and go beyond what is expected to be free financially and in general.

This person probably has capricorn, aquarius and sagittarius placements. Really sarcastic, a bit unpredictable, funny but can have the "foot in the mouth" syndrome. Some might love to swear like a sailor. Probably has a dry sense of humour. Could have grown up in poverty. One of their parents could have died when they were young. Some were adopted. Whatever the case may be, this person had a really tough childhood and upbringing that made them passionate about making their own money and creating their own life and reality. People that harshly judge them don’t understand the pain they had to go through to be where they are at right now. This person is a warrior of life honestly.

Light attribute(s) : Eight of Wands - Vehuel “The Great and Exalted God”

This person is extremely passionate and driven. They have no problems planning and jumping in action right away. They don’t overthink and waste time ruminating. They are a go getter and life made them learn the harsh way that if you wait too long, the opportunities will unfortunately pass you by just like the wind. You have to grab them when you can.

I don’t know how this is a light attribute but they are hot, and they know how to present themselves in a hot way ? They know how to preserve that “hotness” and use it at their advantage. They have an incredible sense of style, and know what fits them or not. Even if most of them have (most likely) an alternative lifestyle and style fashion wise, they know how to make it look good and make other people validate their style. Like they understand the rules of society and they play with it. Despite not fitting in, they know how to make themselves fit in enough to play around with capitalism. This is super interesting to be honest. This person is most likely a Capricorn Sun. Really good at knowing the social expectations and understanding “human nature” and the game of money, and how to play with it. I am hearing “making capitalism my bitch” lol and the quote in the background of Lisa’s Money music video “ Money is an incredible servant but a terrible master” or something like that. (They are a really materialistic person it seems)

Shadow attribute(s) : 4 of Pentacles

Well…. I knew this energy would come up for their shadow side…Yes, they know how to make “capitalism their bitch”, but they are nonetheless really greedy and stingy with their money. They are an overtly materialistic individual, who is obsessed with money and finances. Money is ALWAYS on their mind. So much so that, as you saw in the ��Core personality” section of this reading, their entire self surrounds around making money, ways to make money, how to make money and how to make even more money,..

This person is honestly The Devil archetype… Could have a machiavellistic way of thinking. They are the type to think that the means justify the ends. This could in turn make them quite sadistic and selfish. They could also suffer from addictions they don’t address : could be smoking cigarettes, weed, alcohol, sex or drugs. I am getting most of them, they are a little bit addicted to all of the things I listed above.

Now. I know a lot of you are probably freaking out while reading this (which is totally understandable) but I feel most of you guys who picked this pile are like this too OR are in their way of becoming like this, having this lifestyle (making your own money in unusual ways, partying, hanging out with alt people, people who live unique lifestyles,;..).If you don’t resonate with that, this may not be your pile.

MBTI : ESFP

Life path : Life path 11 - The Illuminator/Psychic (+ Life path 8 - The Influencer)

Life motto : "You decide who you are" and "You grow through what you go through."

What do they look like ? Their vibe ? essence ?

Kibbe body type : Gamine

If woman : “The Gamine body type is defined by an even combination of yin and yang opposites and is the overall combination of a sharply delicate physicality along with a fresh and spicy essence.

Body type is straight. Lithe and lean, tends toward sinewy musculature. Tends toward flatness in bust and hips (unless overweight). May be very leggy. Possibly slightly short-waisted.”

If man : Small in stature, boyish face and body and perpetually young-looking.

Face type essence : Classic => keywords of this face type essence : elegant, simple looking, balance, symmetry, timeless, basic, default settings face, neutral, conservative (what lol), controlled looking, formal

House Two - Physical security, Possessions, Material Values

This person looks poor and rich at the same time. they wear grunge clothes, from charity shops, clothes with stitches and holes in them, tear up clothes,.. It is both intentional (it is their style) but also because they don’t give a shit if they look “homeless”. They like that look.

Despite making pretty decent amounts of money, and trying their best to appear good in society so that they can benefit from the system, they don’t spend much on clothes. I think this careless attitude towards the way they dress is what makes them stand out, and oddly enough, in a good way. It’s like their style is messy but they look effortlessly good.

Not much stands out when it comes to their face. They look pretty normal. I feel like it is their stature, their body, their clothing style and the way they carry themselves that stands out.

Some of them might not be particularly pretty or handsome, but they are still quite attractive, just for other reasons than their physical beauty.

They could have prominent eye bags, some don’t care about having greasy hair and messy buns, tangled hair. They are not gross by any means, like, they take showers. They might just not be the cleanest and most hygienic person out there. I am sensing that, especially if they are a man, they walk like a GTA character. They have the GTA walk basically. For women, they have the BBL walk (lol) or they also walk like characters in GTA, specifically GTA strippers.

Pile 3

Who are they ?

Core personality :

Pile 3… How do I say this.. It was almost impossible to get one card for their core personality. Every card that fell felt really off to me, like it didn’t make sense. Especially since all of them were extremely contradictory : Pluto and House ten wanted to fall first, then the Leo card was at the top of the deck. I reshuffled and the Mutable card fell??? Which, if you don’t know, is a completely opposite energy from the previous cards (Pluto and Leo being fixed energies, and House Ten cardinal and earthy, so really assertive and kind of fixed in a way). Then I reshuffled because I was REALLY confused just to have the Fire card (the fire signs card) ??!! This whole messy process of trying to get their core personality is telling that this person has MANY layers, and that one card just would not be enough to describe them. At first, they might appear confident, like a go-getter (the Fire card), but then, you see this flexible, more, light-hearted and adaptable energy coming from them once you get to know them more (the Mutable signs card). But then, you discover this deeply driven and influential, career oriented, boss bitch side of them when you dig even deeper. For a majority of you though, this process would most likely be the other way around : first, you see how intense, dark and career oriented they are. They appear almost famous, with a resting b*tch face, and a no bs attitude. Really intimidating at first. But then, you’re getting surprised once you talk to them by discovering how super chill and friendly they actually are. But then, you get surprised again once you discover that this person can actually be the life of the party, really lighthearted and down to have a blast at any moment. They are not just calculating, overtly serious and too intense. They also know how to have fun, and are really good at it. I am seriously getting that your future lover is/or might be really good at twerking. lol No matter their gender, they are a pro at throwing it back. They really are a fun and complex individual.

Light attribute(s) : Six of Pentacles and Nine of Cups (again, one card wasn’t enough for them.. Pile 3, you’re person is giving me a headache lmaooo)

This person is extremely generous and charitable. They know how to share their blessings with others, especially the ones in need. Your future lover probably has volunteered at least once in their lives. They probably are really active in their local community to help the ones in need, or just to volunteer because they want to.

This person is grateful for their life and their opportunities. They know how to accept life’s blessings with open warms and be grateful for them. They are generally speaking a more positive and optimistic person and they know things will get better eventually.

Shadow attribute(s) : 7 of Swords

The card literally flew away and I didn’t even shuffle… Be warned pile 3.. (don’t freak out I am just playing)

So, this person might have a tendency to not always tell the truth to keep the harmony. They might be a bit too nice. They will withhold certain information, lie and deceit just to not make someone mad. The problem in this is that at the end, everyone gets mad because they all got lied to someway somehow. This reminds me of the first season of Arcane and how Jayce was trying to appeal to the Juries (or whatever they are called) and Mel but at the same time there was his OG friend, Viktor, that he let down. Because Jayce is a people pleaser, and was trying to do what was right, he got lost in other people’s expectations and let down his friends to then let down the people he was trying to appeal to once he realized the situation he put himself into. (It’s been a while since I watched the first season of Arcane so maybe it is not 100% what happened but you get the core message)

MBTI : ESTJ, ESFJ, ISTP

Life path : Life path 9 - The Sage (+ Life path 33 - The Spiritual Teacher)

Life motto : "Go where you are wanted" (are they really acting on their life motto… that is the question)

What do they look like ? Their vibe ? essence ?

Kibbe body type : Soft Gamine, Theatrical Romantic

“The Soft Gamine silhouette can be described as staccato, animated, and with clean curves." Soft Gamines are typically petite and compact, with a slightly boyish figure.

Face type essence : Ethereal => keywords about this face type essence : maturity, wisdom, purity, old soul, outwordly, magical, ancient, unusual looking

Mutable - Surrender, fluidity and welcoming change

Their looks could vary a lot for each of you I am getting. They could look racially ambiguous, look friendly, almost angel-like for some.

I am honestly not picking up on much for their appearance because I feel like their appearance doesn’t (or shouldn’t ?) matter. It is like you will like the way they look regardless, probably also because this might not be your usual physical type.

I am also getting that this person will look like the way you want them to look like ? I know this sounds insane but I kept on getting images of the Sims or games where you can manually create and customize your characters. It is like you customized them by yourself in the subconscious realm. Not what you dreamt of consciously, which are physical ideals that are usually driven mostly by the ego. No, this person will actually look like what your higher self has been cooking up and manifesting (without your consent lol) behind your back. So, even if they’re not your physical type, you will be subconsciously attracted to them because it is your higher self’s type.

I even think that some of you will feel super physically and/or sexually attracted to this person initially, which might shock you because it feels like it is coming out of nowhere lol

Okay Pile 3, your pile was a little wild but really fun to do ! Sorry if it is slightly shorter than the other piles. I just feel like your guardian angels and your higher self are purposefully gatekeeping some info away from me intentionally.

Pile 4

Who are they ?

Core personality : Chiron - Hurt and Heal (+ Capricorn)

I am getting that this person was deeply wounded in the past, but has healed tremendously ever since. This person was born with a heavy karmic burden. They always felt like their presence was too “loud”, that they took too much space, like they were the elephant in the room. I am picking up this person could have a capricorn rising with saturn and chiron in the first house. Their entire being and identity is filtered through the painful and restrictive energy of Chiron and Saturn. The SOUR album of Olivia Rodrigo could be relevant for some of them or you/ or just both of you. I am saying that because, to do your pile, I stopped watching a SOUR album reaction on youtube lol I actually think Olivia Rodrigo is herself a Capricron rising with Chiron in the first house (poor her). Anyways. This person has a unique connection to music. They probably have a huge vinyl collection, and are extremely cultured in music history. They love listening to all sorts of music genres and are really open minded. They might be a bit awkward or shy at first, but you will instantly be impressed by their music knowledge. They actually might know how to play a few instruments. I am getting the bass, but also the drums. Also with the picture of your pile, they could be a Dj, or are friends with people who work in the music industry/field. They might be themselves in the music industry. I am getting if they’re a man, they probably have a grungy style of clothing, they wear shirts of metal bands, and have longer hair. If you see them play, they’ll be quite lowkey, just the bass player at the back. They love music, and even if they are an artist, they are not looking for fame at all. They enjoy being mostly unknown, or just known in their small local community. Random but you might meet them and they’re playing the drums or bass in a cover of jealousy, jealousy by Olivia Rodrigo.

I am getting a lot of “sad girl” music (not the best term, just angsty and sad music made by women). From the start by Laufey is coming up. This person might have always been in one sided love situations. Poor them, they seem so sweet ;/ Don’t ever tell me they aren’t shitty placements to have when there is this person as an example..

I think this person has always stayed resilient despite the pain that Saturn and Chiron is causing them. Like the heartbreaks never made them bitter. This person is really emotionally strong, honestly. They know how to not take things too seriously. They are really good at handling rejection.

Light attribute(s) : Four of Cups

This person is really patient. They know how to weigh the pros and the cons and not take everything at face value.

They are really good at reading between the lines, and know how to take a step back when needed.

They aren’t desperate, and they understand the concept of boundaries really well.

They are also really realistic and always make sure not to jump to conclusions.

If you are a really stressed individual, they are the best fit for you. They are extremely empathetic and patient, and they know that it is completely useless to say “calm down” to someone who is in the midst of having a panic attack lol

They are really educated in mental health too. I am getting this is most likely a bisexual man, some are cis men, some are trans men, I just think this person is actively part of the LGBTQ+ community. Really left wing. Some might even be marxist, far left. Either way, they are really politicized and are concerned for society. I don’t know i felt drawn to put this in the light attributes lmaoo it is more so a fact about them, but if you share the same political views, it actually makes sense.

Shadow attribute(s) : 7 of Wands

They might have a hard time handling conflict and might have a tendency sometimes to run away from issues, or put them under the rug until the problems all come together flooding at them and they don’t know what to do.

They might sometimes easily get overwhelmed and need a lot of alone time because of that.

They are not the best at voicing their problems. They are not really verbal generally speaking, which could be frustrating for people who are direct and literal.

MBTI : INFJ ( I am getting strong Kurt Cobain vibes from your person. Such a sensitive soul <3)

Life path : Life Path 1 - The Warrior (+ Life path 6 - The Nurturer)

Life motto : "it comes and goes.." / "I am divinely protected at all times <3"

What do they look like ? Their vibe ? essence ?

Kibbe body type : Flamboyant natural

“These men are masculine, but share the Dramatic height and longer bones. They have broad, blunt shoulders and broader chests than the Dramatics. / They have broadness in some parts of their bodies, and wider bones (wider hands and feet, sharp jaw-lines, larger noses). When they pack on muscle, their body becomes a T-shape”

Face type essence : Romantic => keywords of this face type essence => indulgence, alluring, sensual, curvier, glamour, luxury, soft, and lush lips.

Saturn - Feel restricted, Experience struggle, Learn Hard Work and Patience

This person’s bone structure really sticks out. If they’re a man (which is most likely for most of you here), they have a larger waist, like their waist isn’t defined at all. They are most likely either average-short height or quite tall. Not skinny, not fat or chubby. They are slim-thick I am getting ??! I don’t know if you can say that for a man though ?(I don’t think so but bear with me lmaoo). Like they are not slim and have abs, but they don’t have a beer belly either. They are "normal" I guess.

Their limbs could be quite long too. Like their arms are super long, so it almost looks like their hands are touching their knees ? It is really hard to explain.

Some of them could have a hunchback or a posture problem. Like they have scoliosis and sit in a really particular way.

Some of them could have a roman nose, their nose might be bigger in general. I am seeing that one jewish stand-up comedian, he always comes up in my Youtube reels lol I think he has an italian name (ok I found him his name is Gianmarco Soresi , he is really funny lol. He is known for his elbows I think, like there is a running inside joke about his elbows. I know this is weird but look him up, he has really long limbs. They might have a similar vibe to him, the way they carry himself ,their humor, the way they interact with other people, etc…

Pile 5

Who are they ?

Core personality :

Currently shuffling to get one oracle card for their core personality, and, just like Pile 3, it is REALLY confusing. Two cards fell first, then 1 card that had nothing to do with the two first ones fell and then yet another one that had even LESS correlation to what I previously shuffled fell.

What I am getting from this confusing shuffling is that this person is a shapeshifter, a chameleon, a social butterfly (but not a frivolous one). They kind of remind me of Jayce from Arcane in a way (go read Pile 3 if you want, because I just mentioned Jayce too in Pile 3’s reading, there are a lot of mirroring between the two piles). What I am getting though is that they are really calculated and intentional in the way they display this “social butterfly” energy. They are not just social to be social, or in a “ I am so happy to be there yolo slayy”. They keep track of every single one of their connections, how it is going, etc… Really good communicator. Extraverted and a bit controlling (they just have a tight schedule and are well organised so it’s not excessive.). I also heard “Social engineer”. This person is really good at socializing, understanding people’s motives and using it to their and the community’s advantage. They know how to act and with who, what to say and how to say it according to each person they meet. Now, I do not think they are manipulative in a bad way. They are honest, generally, but could lie by omission when needed. This person could also smell good lol (random I know). I am getting most of the people who chose this pile’s future lover will be a man, but a man with heavy Libra/ feminine energies. I am seeing Siwon from the K-pop group Super Junior. So, this person could be a bit conservative or more traditional in their values (because Siwon, if I am not mistaken, is a huge christian for better and (mostly) for worse…) Your person could be homophobic or hold certain views that were taught to them from a really young age; You know those “christian values”. Let me share with you something Choi Siwon said about homosexuality in an interview back in 2007 : “While I respect all genders, I do not wish to acknowledge homosexuals as I have been taught that God created Man and Woman with specific characteristics and duties”. I am getting a minority of you could think the same, but a majority actually are dying inside reading this (honestly, me too). This relationship could be a karmic one (karmic does not mean bad by the way) that teaches them to be more flexible with their values, and accept more progress and diversity? This person could’ve been groomed to think that way since they were a child. I think deep down they are a really open minded soul. This person could have a north node in gemini or the 3rd house : they could be really preachy and stuck in their own belief system. Really resistant to change and progress. (they don’t have to be conservative/christian it could also be any belief they are clinging onto). Your presence in their life could shift their view and push them out of this stubborn preachy “I am right you are wrong, my truth is THE truth” kind of mindset. To reassure you : NO YOU WILL NOT BE A BOB/BARBARA THE BUILDER. Most of you know your worth, and if this person doesn’t want to change, you know damn well it’s their problem and not yours. You will not try to “fix” them by any means. (needed to make this precision because some people could think I am describing a savior/martyr dynamic when really it is a teacher/student dynamic (you being the teacher, of course). There won’t be any kind of power imbalances so don’t worry (and you can also always choose to not enter in this relationship when the opportunity presents itself to you)

Light attribute(s) : Temperance

This person is really patient and diligent.

This person is also really spiritual and aware of concepts such as “divine timing”; They know that rejection is divine protection and are able to not take things at heart.

They know how to see the bigger picture.

They are extremely good teachers/mentors/gurus , and are good at sharing spiritual knowledge. They are really wise.

Shadow attribute(s) : 5 of Swords

They could be a bit sneaky. Like they do things behind people’s back, and hide some stuff to get what they want. It is just the shadow side of their social engineer personality.

They could sacrifice too much, sometimes go to excess to get recognition and success.

They LOVE positive attention and compliments, so, they could overdo it or act as if they have more than they actually do just to impress people.

They have a bit of ego paired with some self esteem issues that makes them seek out external validation a bit too much. They could also let other people decide for themselves in the way that they want to make sure everything they do or/and say is socially accepted/acceptable.

They just want to fit in and they hate being the weirdo/ the scapegoat. It might actually be one of their worst fears : to be left out of the group, to not be in the “in” crowd, the popular crowd. This is a shadow because they have a hard time expressing their own desires and to do whatever they want/be authentically themselves.

MBTI : ENFJ

Life path : Life Path 6

Life motto : "Control how you respond to things sent to destroy your peace."

What do they look like ? Their vibe ? essence ?

Kibbe body type : Natural

(this pile feels like a mix of Pile 1 and Pile 3. Go read them if you hesitated with those piles/or just to see additional messages)

Natural / Yang-Balanced

Here’s a description of this body type (i found this on reddit, but it does the work so don’t judge me)

Face type essence : Ingenue

Keywords associated with this face type essence : Cute, Idealism, Youthful, Femininity, Small, Sweet, Pretty, Gentle, Innocence, delicate

Sagittarius - Optimism, Exploration and Freedom

They probably are really “thick”. They probably are more on the muscular side, some could be muscular and chubby at the same time. They just look taller or bigger than average, they have a “big” energy when they enter any room. They just naturally take more space. Really “larger than life” appearance/ vibe. Their thighs and legs are the most prominent part of their bodies. They are taller than average.

Pile 6

Sorry in advance Pile 6, your reading is a bit cryptical at times. The energy of your future lover is really hard to grasp onto but I think that is on purpose. You will know more about them just as you get to know them.

Who are they ?

Core personality : Pluto - Transform / Libra - Consideration, Fairness and Harmony

This person has a really transformative and intense personality, but at the same time they are really balanced and harmonious ? They are healthily obsessive, they seek harmony in the secrets, the taboo. Everything that is dark and hidden, they express it artistically, they show the darkness diplomatically.

I don’t really know though, I think their energy is really hard to get. Really enigmatic individual. They might wake up one day, and be a person to then wake up the day after and be another person. It is like they consistently “die”. They never cling to a specific identity or personality. They are everlastingly changing. But, them being in a constant state of change doesn’t make them chaotic either. They shed their old skin/ die really harmoniously. Their constant changes aren’t messy and abrupt. They tend to be really quiet and really observant. Like a feline waiting to pounce on their prey at any moment. This person could be really attractive like magnetic, almost high fashion model attractiveness. When they walk by, everyone turns their heads to admire their lethal confidence, theri sharp aura, and their deadly stare.

This person is probably an artist too : a painter, a poet and a writer. They probably have many artistic talents that they indulge in a lot. I am picking up that this person is probably an 8th houser (have 3 or more planets in the 8th house) with a stellium of planets in Libra (sign of beauty, art and harmony). They know how to create divinely and they have an amazing artistic flair. They are amazing with their hands. Their hands could actually be their most attractive feature.

Light attribute(s) : The Devil

Well… this is an interesting card that fell for their LIGHT attributes lol This person is so mysterious to read omg

So, this person is really comfortable in their shadow. Even though they probably don't know what a “shadow” side is, they’ve explored it and they went into the depths of it already.

They aren’t scared to face their demons. They are extremely honest and real, and are highly aware of their toxic traits and shadow side and don’t bother hiding them away.

I just think that their honesty and transparency is the thing that sticks out the most. Their lightest attributes is found in their own exploration of their shadow side

Shadow attribute(s) : Queen of Pentacles

okay.. I heard something really weird but this person could be a sex addict ?? I just think it only applies to a minority of you though. But I don't think it means they are literally addicted to the act, they just are obsessed with the concept of "sex" and sexuality in general. This obsession might make them a hard person to have a "mundane" conversation with.

I think they could just be overtly disconnected to their bodies. They could try to mesh too much with their spiritual side that they forget their bodies.

They could also be too fixated on the darker sides of life, on the deep and hidden that they forget to do mundane things. Like they cannot uphold a casual conversation, they can only interact when the subject is death or sex. There is just an imbalance in their energy. They pour too much energy in things that are transcendental so they forget the materialistic side of life.

In summery, they are just too obsessed with taboo topics (death, sex,...)

MBTI : ESFP

Life path : Life path 6 - The Nurturer

Life motto : "it comes and goes." / "when you get tired, learn to rest, not quit.”

What do they look like ? Their vibe ? essence ?

Kibbe body type : Flamboyant natural or Soft Dramatic, Romantic and Classic ALL at the same time (mainly the first two though) (this person’s face card is LETHAL)

Face type essence : Gamine, Dramatic and Romantic (they are a mix of all of those)

Gamine => Quirky, Playful, boyish, dramatic, childlike, rebellious, whimsical, creative, youthful

Dramatic => Danger, sharp, narrow, boldness, wildness, theatrical, extravagance

Romantic => keywords of this face type essence => indulgence, alluring, sensual, curvier, glamour, luxury, soft, and lush lips.

Classic => Elegant, balance, controlled looking, symmetry, timeless, basic, default setting face, conservative, formal, neutral

Capricorn - Ambition, Realism and Methodical Steps (+ House Twelve - Spirituality, Transcendence, Karma, Sacrificial service, and healing)

This person looks ETHEREAL. High fashion niche brand model look. They look straight out of an anime, a webtoon and a runway AT THE SAME TIME. Many people could be jealous of them because of how good-looking they are.

All I am hearing is “FACE CARD ? LETHAL.”. This person has a really intimidating energy, a striking aura and an authoritative vibe. Their depths and contradictions melt together and show up in such a way in their faces, and body, and the way they walk, talk , and look at people in a really fascinating way. Everyone thinks they’re good looking, but not everyone admits it out of jealousy.

Some of them could have clear skin, or acne that looks aesthetic on their faces ? I’ve been seeing angel oracle cards (like angel michael,..) in my head so they probably look like an angel themselves. Go search for Mannerism paintings/art/painters. They remind me of those erotic homosexual (really sensual and sexual) paintings of the Renaissance.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆stay blessed everyone⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

#pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #divination #pac tarot #tarot pac #pac love reading #pac #pac reading #love tarot reading #love tarot spread #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #moon in leo

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giorno-plays-piano · 1 month ago

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Terrible Lie

Pairing: yandere!Bob Reynolds x reader

Warnings: allusion to noncon, stalking, obsessive tendencies, brief mention of drug addiction (nothing descriptive), Bob's mental illness, manipulation.

Words: 1.3k

Summary: Letting a stranger into your home is always a risk, but inviting a tormented superhero under your roof is asking for trouble. Especially the one who has been slowly morphing into something far beyond your understanding and control.

_______

"Please tell me you're not still living with that drug addict."

"He's a former drug addict."

You can already see your friend rolling her eyes despite being thousands miles away. Not that you blame her: if she did the same thing as you, you'd be buying a plane ticket to come and smack some sense into her right this minute.

Letting a mentally ill stranger with drug issues stay at your place is a bad, bad idea.

But it's Bob you're talking about. He might've been a stranger once, but he's not the kind you should be scared of. He's a troubled soul who has been in a dark place for way too long, and crawling away from it takes him time. You don't blame him. His story is not a nice one.

"Seriously, what the fuck?" Your friend sighs in exasperation, and you can hear both the worry and annoyance in her voice. "The fact he's nice to you now doesn't mean he's gonna be nice to you tomorrow."

You laugh, irritated, "Isn't it true about everyone, though?"

"Yeah, maybe tomorrow Lora gonna call you a bitch, but she's not gonna STAB YOU!"

Rubbing your eyes tiredly, you let out a breath. It's unsurprising she's so overprotective of you, but it sure is exhausting after so long. It's been months. From the second you found extremely anxious Bob in some dark alley, shaking and crying and mumbling something about his mother, to this day, he has never been violent. Depressed, obsessive, sure, but never in a dangerous way.

If he was dangerous, it's only to himself.

"I'm almost home. I'll text you later, ok?" You hear your friend sigh even before you finish talking. That's not the first time she raised the topic, and it won't be the last, but you can't find it in you to care. Bob stays.

"Alright," she murmurs, frustrated and yet letting you off the hook for now. "I really miss you. Call me more often?"

"I will."

Not that you actually will. It's not like you don't believe her - she's been there for you through thick and thin - and yet, the idea of her trying to fix you is vexing. You aren't broken. You don't need help.

Thankfully, Bob there, on the other side of the door, doesn't share her opinion. Not that you never argue about anything, God forbid you start speaking about the last Star Wars trilogy again, but he respects you. He shares your fears, your worries, and let's you talk when you need it and sits in silence with you just the same. For someone fighting his own mental illness, Bob is sweetheart.

Opening the door with your old, scratched key, for a second, you stare at the darkness of the room, wondering if your roommate went for a walk that late. It's rather unusual: not that he's afraid of the dark, but he prefers to stay inside after the sunset. To avoid trouble, he smiled awkwardly when you asked, and you decided not to press the issue. It's not your business why he doesn't want to be out after dark. Probably another trauma of sorts. The thought makes you want to call him to check if he's alright: he certainly didn't say he was going anywhere today, so his absence is a bit suspicious.

And then, you see the darkness staring right back at you.

As you yelp, losing your bag with groceries that lands with a loud thud, Bob hurriedly switches the light on, and you stare at him in his oversized green sweatshirt as if he grew a horn. What?

"I-I'm sorry!" He's quick to apologize, raising his hands up as if to show you he's defenseless. "I-I was just spacing out a little and didn't realize it was already dark."

Oh. Probably cognitive overload again, you think as you steady yourself, breathing out in relief. You could swear something out there was staring at you like you're a prey, but that was probably Bob's eyes glinting in the dark, and he's the farthest thing from a hunter. God, you probably scared the hell out of him yourself.

"Sorry for the scream," you smile, bending down to gather the scattered groceries, and your roommate hurries over to help. "How was your day?"

Abashed, he starts rumbling about the chores he did, the breathing exercises you once taught him, and the General Tao chicken he's very proud of, and you laugh, rubbing his shoulder approvingly as you deposit cartons of milk and cream in the fridge. It's true Bob doesn't have a job and you pay the bills, but, honestly, aside from being a good listener and a great friend, he's been real helpful around the house: cooking, cleaning, doing laundry have been on him almost since the day he moved in, and he was nice at it. Sometimes you joked it almost felt like having a wife, and Bob flushed such a deep shade of red you thought he might've had a hypertensive crisis.

"I'm sorry I spaced out," he mutters again, hands twitching. "I should've done journaling, but it just... sort of escaped my mind."

You tell him it's fine as you both set the table, and he takes the potatoes out of the oven where he left them to keep them warm. It's not like he's been stuck. There is so much progress! For one, you haven't heard him crying for at least two months, and his overall mood seems to stabilize without extreme highs and lows. He is taking his medication - that was a real bitch to try to get your hands on without prescription - almost religiously. Of course, you aren't a specialist, but living with him side by side, you think you can confidently say Bob is better.

And his chicken is really delicious, too.

When the night comes, you turn on your diffuser with lavender oil to help your rommate sleep and wish him goodnight before retiring to your own room. Whatever anyone says, things will surely work out. Getting back on your feet after years of abuse is a long journey, and relapse happens, but Bob has been trying so hard. He deserves a second chance.

Of course, you know nothing of who he is. You've never heard of the Sentry or the Void and only seen superhumans on TV. Robert is at fault, not that he could help it. Taking in a depressive outcast instead of a creature that ruins anything it touches? The choice was obvious, even if he felt bad about lying.

You'd be horrified if you realized what was staring at you in the dark. Bob, the way you know him, is a nice shield, indeed, but his split personality is not something he wants you to discover. Especially when he feels less and less like Bob or Sentry or even Void because he's becoming someone - or something - else...

Someone who can't keep away when you close your door and lay to sleep. Someone who manipulates you and your reality because it makes him feel safe. Someone who feels shame or guilt less and less with each day because Bob's sense of morals means nothing to the creature he becomes.

It grows stronger because you nourish and nurture it.

Sneaking into your room after dark became a comforting ritual: before he'd nestle in close, listening to your heartbeat to ground himself, but with time he grew bolder, allowing himself touches and kisses until he felt the emptiness go away. The comforting thought that he is gentle with you makes him go further. If you didn't know, it couldn't hurt you, could it?

He entertains the thought you'd allow him, anyway, if he said it helps him. You've enabled him this far.

"Thank you," he breathes out into your face after another kiss, his eyes two orbs of light that scared you so much a few hours ago. "Thank you for letting me in."

He knows it better than anyone. Whatever happens, Bob stays.

#yandere #bob reynolds #the sentry #bob reynolds x reader #the void #the sentry x reader #thunderbolts #mcu #the void x reader

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 9 days ago

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Something constant. | joel miller x f!reader, 9.1k

Summary: You are Tommy’s best friend, Joel’s constant complication- the one woman he can’t touch without breaking. But when years of tension finally snap, Joel has no choice but to face what he’s been running from: the fact that you’ve always been his, whether he deserves you or not.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST (like- I'm putting them through it like my life depends on it)(it does.), SMUT, reader is 5 yrs younger than Tommy, so that leaves a 10 yrs age gap with our man, emotional and physical abuse, toxic dynamics: mentions of abusive family but nothing descriptive or graphic, mentions of abusive boyfriends and unhealthy relationships in general but nothing descriptive or graphic, substance use: mentions of gambling and intense sexual content: grinding, nipple play, fingering, cum eating, unprotected PIV, dom!Joel. Please be aware and read responsibly.

A/N: Well, well, well- what do we have here? It’s been almost a year since I last posted anything of mine. This is not some breakthrough, or something you haven’t read before. For some reason, I decided to forgo dividers and use titles instead. Where did that come from? Lord knows. The writing and rhythm feel a bit different, especially in the beginning- don’t ask me to explain, I’m not a trained professional. I also think I used dashes more than I ever have before, maybe I'm addicted, who knows. (They made sense, ok?) Anyway, I don’t know why I’m rambling; I don’t even know if you still remember me, but hey-(oh look, another dash!) I'm still here and I’ve missed you guys!

P.S.: Oh- oh and please don’t forget, as always, I hate summaries!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

They say you only get what you think you deserve in this life.

They must be gravely wrong then, because you don’t think you deserve Joel Miller. Not for one second. And yet, somehow.. here you are.

But let’s take things from the beginning.

The past.

You and Tommy met when you were young. Well, he was young. You were young..er. Which, by default, made Joel the old..er brother.

You and Tommy became fast, inseparable friends. You were both drawn to mischief and that made you almost instantly thick as thieves. He’s always been like a brother to you. You spent summers at the Millers’, crashed there during rough times.

You didn’t have a stable home life. You learned from a young age to adapt.

Actually, you learned a handful of helpful things: how to read faces, microexpressions, words unsaid and gestures unmade. When to activate your sympathetic or parasympathetic systems. When to freeze. When to hide. When to run. Especially where to run.

The destination was always the same, the Millers’ house. Tommy and by extension Joel, became your lifeline.

The one person you could never read to save your life though, was Joel Miller.

Joel, always wiser, quieter, intense. You called him “sir” jokingly. He called you “kid.” Typical.

He wasn’t warm, but he was reliable. Always picking Tommy up from trouble. Always fixing things. Always there.

You admired him before you even understood why. He never faltered. Never drifted.

As you grew up, that admiration turned into something deeper. But beyond that, all you could ever figure out was that he didn’t like you all that much. You guessed you were used to that. You’d had your whole life training for it.

The hidden love.

You never said anything. Joel treated you like a kid.

Even as you matured, he stayed distant, protective, but formal.

You kept it to yourself, how you felt about him and tried to date others. No one ever measured up. Of course they didn’t. They didn’t even give you the bare minimum.

But even when they did -rarely- your heart was singing only for Joel.

What a stupid fixation, you thought.

To crave the safe. To long for the normal. To love the constant.

But he provided. So you did.

Truth be told, you’ve never shared much with Joel. He was always orbiting your friendship with Tommy, anyway. He was the big brother. He was always around, mostly to keep an eye on Tommy, if you had to guess. So, inevitably, he ended up getting to know parts of your life, of you.

Like right now, when you wish more than anything that he never knew you at all.

You see, you’re in a bad relationship. You don’t tell Joel as much. You never would.

But Tommy knows.

And if Tommy knows, Joel does too.

Because Joel is observant. He always watches. He always has.

Like you said, to keep Tommy straight. Wasn’t his fault if you were always around. So it wasn’t that hard to figure you out. To notice things.

Like you, clinging to people who give crumbs of affection, because you grew up without real support.

Like you, staying with your boyfriend after he apologizes, crying, believing it meant change.

The sleepover.

Tommy lets you crash at Joel’s place. You don't even need to ask; it’s practically a given. He thinks it’s casual, just like always.

You feel safe there, even with Joel being standoffish. He never kicked you out, though. His door was always open when you needed it and that meant something. It had to, right?

But when you settle into the familiar room and mattress, you have a confession to make. You admit to Tommy that you forgave your boyfriend because “he cried and I thought maybe he deserved another chance.”

“Jesus..” Tommy sighs, his brows pinched in frustration. Not at you but at the lucky bastard who’s havin’ it easy.

He doesn’t know what else to say to make you see; you are enough. Enough to stand on your own. You don’t need anyone else to feel whole. Complete. Relevant. Seen.

But who is he to talk? He’s always carryin’ his own demons, makin’ his own same mistakes; always havin’ Joel anchor him to reality, like you’re havin’ him.

Tommy sits on the bed next to you, searching your eyes. “What are you not tellin’ me?”, his voice soft and caring like a knuckle brushing against a cheek.

Goddamn Miller brothers and their ability to read you like an open book.

You avoid his gaze, looking anywhere but him.

He calls your name now, sternly. Serious. Patience was never really his strong suit, but then again, you already knew that. “Done playin’ games, darlin’.”

Tommy pinches your chin, forces your eyes on his. “Spit it out.” He speaks like he’s scolding you, but his thumb brushes gently over your knuckles.

You start stammering, the words to admit your level of failure elude you, like smoke curling in the air. You pick at a loose thread on the blanket. Your knee bounces once, then twice. You suck in a breath like it’ll help you speak. It doesn’t.

“I- I-” you exhale loudly. You rehearse the sentence in your head but it comes out wrong every time. Too much. Too small. Too pathetic. You hate that it’s even real. “I think he spent all of my savings on gambling.”

Silence.

It hangs there, thick and heavy, filling the room like smoke. You don’t dare look at him. You regret saying it already. It feels too real now, like speaking it out loud makes it official.

Tommy doesn’t respond right away.

You half-expect him to curse, maybe yell. You’ve seen that version of him. Loud, angry, Miller.

But when he finally moves, it’s quiet. Gentle.

He rubs a hand down his face, exhales slowly, the kind of breath that says I don’t know how to fix this, but I want to.

Then, softer than you were ready for- “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Your eyes stay glued to the worn edge of the blanket you’re gripping. “I dunno.” Your voice is small. Pathetic. “Guess I didn’t wanna see it.”

He leans forward, elbows on knees, staring at the floor for a moment before glancing your way. “You gonna tell Joel?”

That makes your head snap up. “What? No- no. I don’t want him to know. He’ll just-”

You stop. You don’t even know what exactly you’re afraid of. Joel being disappointed? Joel being right? Joel looking at you like you’re one of those strays he has to keep out of the yard?

Tommy narrows his eyes just a bit. “He ain’t like that, you know.”

You shake your head. “You don’t know how he looks at me.”

Tommy gives a little snort. Amused. Tired. “Pretty sure you don’t know how he looks at you.”

Your breath catches. And now you have to look away.

He sees it. Of course he does. Goddamn Miller brothers.

Tommy doesn’t press. He just shifts closer on the mattress, hand resting lightly on your shoulder. No pressure. Just there.

“You’re not stayin’ with him anymore,” he says. “We’ll figure the rest out later.”

That “we” shouldn’t hit you in the chest the way it does.

But it does.

You nod once, quietly. You don’t say thank you. Not because you’re not grateful, but because you’ve learned that some kindnesses are too big for words.

Joel’s Judgment.

Sunlight’s starting to crawl into the kitchen. Joel’s already up, nursing his coffee, sleeves pushed up, working a stubborn hinge loose on the cabinet door.

Always fixing what breaks, never what’s breaking him.

He’s got that tired, focused look, the one he wears when there’s too much on his mind and nowhere to put it.

Tommy walks in after a while, hair still a mess, rubbing sleep from his eyes. You’re not around, maybe still in the spare room, maybe hiding from the weight of everything.

Joel doesn’t ask, not directly. He never does. But he eyes the hallway, then glances at Tommy.

“Everything alright with her?”, he asks almost indifferent while still working on the cabinet door.

Tommy runs a hand over his face. Hesitates. Then shrugs.

“She always ends up with assholes, doesn’t she?” Joel mutters under his breath.

Not angry. Not cold. Just.. detached. Like he’s trying to put you in a box he can label and keep at a safe distance.

Tommy’s halfway to the coffee pot when he freezes.

His voice comes out sharper than intended.

“Jesus, Joel.”

Joel looks up, brows raised. “What?”

Tommy slams the pot down harder than necessary. “She thought she could trust him. He cried, said he’d change, you know how that goes.”

Joel watches him now, more alert. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

Tommy exhales through his nose, pacing once. Shit. Then- too late to take it back- “..The bastard drained her savings. All of it. Gambling.”

Silence.

Joel blinks once. Sets the screwdriver down slow, deliberate. Like he actively accepts he’s capable of murder right at this moment.

“You serious?”

Tommy just nods, jaw tight.

Joel doesn’t say anything at first. His face hardens, not with judgment, but with something else. Something Tommy has seen too many times before. That cold, calculating kind of quiet. Like when a storm’s just out of sight but already coming.

He glances back toward the hallway.

And for the first time in a long time, Joel Miller looks like he might actually break something.

The confrontation.

“Is she really that stupid?”

Joel’s voice cuts through the air, low, gritted, sharp like broken glass.

You weren’t even trying to eavesdrop. Just happened to walk toward the kitchen, bare feet soft on old floorboards, the kind that creak at the worst moments.

But now you’re at the doorframe.

And you’ve heard it.

They both freeze when they see you.

Tommy’s mouth parts like he might say something -anything- but Joel gets there first. He takes a step forward, guilt blooming all over his face.

"Wait-", time fractures; each fraction of a second splitting into aching pieces, stretching into eternity, as he struggles to find the right words. "That’s not-"

You flinch back. Not from fear, from instinct. Like touching him would burn.

Your eyes are glassy, breath stuck somewhere between your chest and throat.

You tried so fucking hard. For years.

To believe he didn’t despise you. That it was just the way he was, guarded, quiet, rough around the edges. Maybe, just maybe, under all that brooding, he gave a damn. Not enough to love you, but enough to keep you torturing yourself. Hoping.

You clung to scraps. Glances. The open door. The silence that wasn’t quite rejection.

But now- now you have your answer.

He reaches out and you step further back, hand half-raised like a warning.

“Don’t.”

Your voice cracks.

“You’re cruel, Joel.” His name tastes foreign, like something you were never meant to say out loud. Not in this kind of sentence. Not aimed at you.

He flinches.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be alone and still try to believe people can be good. That they’ll change. That you matter enough for someone to try.”

You laugh bitterly. Short, sharp.

“I used to think that was my strength, it gave me hope, nurtured my heart.”

You shrug, mouth twisting.

“Now I just feel stupid.”

Joel opens his mouth and this time his voice is soft. A crack in the armor.

“Sweetheart-”

It halts you.

Like something forgotten and fragile just cracked open in your chest.

He’s never called you that. Never reached for softness when it came to you. You were always kid, background noise, someone tolerated.

But this- this name, heavy with something almost gentle- it lingers.

Uninvited warmth in the middle of a wound. A wrong word at the worst possible moment.

And just like that, you falter.

Your footing slips, like the floor forgot how to hold you. You hate that it gets to you. You hate that part of you still wants it to mean something.

You snap.

“No.”

You shake your head, fast, like you're trying to physically push the word away.

“No, Joel. You made what you think of me very clear.”

You take another step back, voice trembling but strong.

“You sorry you said it or just sorry I was there to hear it?”

He looks like he’s on the verge of breaking. But you don’t let him. A quiet kind of peace settles over you- cold, final. It’s all done now. Sealed. Clear. Maybe hope was never meant for you. Maybe it ruined more than it ever gave.

“I’m sorry. Sorry for having a heart. For seeing the good in people. For thinking maybe, just maybe, I could believe in something better.”

A beat. “For thinking you’d ever see me as something more than a burden.”

Then the final twist- “But hey- I guess if anyone knows what it’s like to be an asshole, it’s you.”

Silence.

You turn around.

And this time, when you walk away, you don’t look back.

The void.

The door doesn’t slam. He almost wishes it did, something loud, something final, something that could match the sting in his chest.

But no.

It’s the quiet that kills him.

He stays there, frozen. One foot half-forward like he still thinks maybe he can catch you.

Maybe call you back.

Maybe undo it.

Too late.

Tommy doesn’t speak. He’s seen this side of Joel before, the kind that hits hard and then stands in the wreckage, not knowing how to fix what’s left.

Joel drags a hand down his face, slow. Tired.

He feels like he just handed a loaded gun to someone he swore he’d protect and it went off in his own damn hands.

He sinks down onto the edge of the kitchen chair, his elbows digging his knees. Staring at nothing. Staring at the space you occupied moments ago.

“Didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters defeated. “Not like that.”

But there’s no one there to hear it.

The room stays still.

Tommy leans against the doorframe. Crosses his arms. Watches his brother fall apart without making a sound about it.

He wants to say I warned you.

Wants to say You crossed a line you can’t uncross.

But what good would it do now?

Joel doesn’t need a lecture.

He needs a time machine.

Tommy sighs, low, deep; rubs the back of his neck.

“You love her,” he says simply. Not a question. “You just don’t think you deserve her.”

Joel doesn’t look up. Doesn’t argue.

Tommy nods to himself, jaw tight.

“Then I hope to God you figure out what you do deserve, before she’s too far gone to look back.”

He pushes off the frame and walks out, boots heavy on the floorboards, leaving Joel alone with the quiet and what he’s done.

The conversation.

Tommy stepped out onto the back porch with two beers. Joel was already out there, sitting in silence, the lamp behind him casting long shadows across the wooden floorboards. He didn’t say anything when Tommy handed him one.

They sat for a while.

“She didn’t mean to hear it, y’know,” Tommy said eventually. “Was just.. bad timing.”

Joel didn’t react. Took a sip. His expression remained flat.

“Maybe it’s better she did,” he muttered, eyes fixed on his thumb as it peeled the label off the bottle- then drifting back up again, straight into nothingness.

Tommy bent forward slightly, fingers laced together. “Jesus, Joel. What the hell’s goin’ on with you?”

Joel’s eyes stayed lost in the dark. “She’s the kind of woman who believes in second chances. Believes people can be better. Damn, she forgives the unforgivable like it’s just another Tuesday.”

“Yeah,” Tommy said softly, almost in awe. “I know.”

“But me?” Joel’s fingers tightened slightly around the neck of the bottle. “I’ve run out of people to prove wrong. And if she ever looked at me the way I look at her.. God help me, I’d take it. I’d take it and I’d never let go. Which is exactly why I can’t.”

Tommy went quiet for a moment.

“You really think you’re that far gone?”

Joel gave a hard smile. “You see the man I am now. But she didn’t see who I had to be. Who I chose to be. I’ve done things, Tommy. Not the kind that sends you to jail- the kind you do when you look out for your own. I walked away from people who needed me. I picked you over them. And I’d do it again, but that don’t mean it didn’t mark me.”

“You did what you had to do,” Tommy said sharply. “For me. For us.”

“That don’t make it right.”

“Doesn’t make it wrong either.”

Joel’s voice softened, almost a whisper. “She thinks people can change. I know they don’t, not really. And I ain’t gonna be the one to prove her wrong.”

Tommy studied his brother for a long beat. “You ever think maybe she sees who you are now ‘cause that’s who you are?”

“She’s not like us, Tommy,” Joel said flatly. “She’s strong, but not cold. Got this light to her that-”, he stopped, sighed. “I ain’t got no business even standin’ near.”

“Bullshit.” Tommy said. “You love her.”

“And that’s the goddamn problem,” Joel snapped. “I need her. And if I let myself need somethin’ that good and I lose it..”, his face shifted, darkening into something grim and unyielding, “-Lord have mercy on anyone standin’ in my way.. I don’t think I’d come back from that.”

Tommy leaned back in his chair, head tilted up toward the sky.

“She’s not gonna break you, Joel. She’s already holdin’ your pieces together. You just too scared to admit it.”

Joel took another sip as silence settled over them once again. There was something fragile in his voice now.

“I have a brother, you know,” he said with a dry quip. “He trusts me with everythin’. Even her. I can’t give him a reason not to.”

Tommy laughed bitterly. “I think he’d be more pissed if you kept hurtin’ her just to protect him.”

Joel stared off into the night, beer forgotten in his hand. Another beat of quiet. His resolve was cracking slightly. Not entirely. Not enough. Not yet.

Then, barely above a whisper-

“A man like me don’t get to want things like her.”

The explotion.

It’s been weeks.

No word from Joel.

Tommy checks in from time to time, but he doesn’t say his brother’s name. Not once.

And you don’t ask.

You tell yourself you don’t care. That the silence doesn’t ache.

Then one afternoon, Tommy texts you:

"Swing by Joel’s place. Left some stuff for you in the garage. I’ll be back in 10."

You don’t think twice. You go. You assume Joel’s at work. He always is.

But when you step inside, the air is too quiet. Tommy’s truck is gone. And then you hear a key turning in the front door.

Joel walks in.

You both stop in your tracks. He blinks, like he’s not sure if you’re real. Your heartbeat drums in your ears. You mumble something about Tommy. He nods; says nothing at first. Just sets his keys down on the table.

He glances at you. There’s a hesitation, like something’s been living in his throat for too long and he’s finally decided to let it out.

"Tommy said you.. broke things off."

You nod stiffly, eyes dropping to your feet, like they could carry you away from him. Like they ever would.

He shifts his weight, almost uncomfortable. His voice is low, a little rough, when he dares-

"That guy ever lay a hand on you?"

Your jaw tightens.

Not this again. Not from him. Not when he’s the one who shattered you last.

"Not everyone’s lucky enough to have Joel Miller in their corner." you bite out before you can stop yourself.

His brows twitch and you don’t wait for him to respond. The words keep spilling now, bitter, broken, sharp.

"I don’t let people touch me or talk to me like that. Not anymore."

Your eyes flash, not with anger, with hurt.

"But you? I made an exception for you. God knows why."

He flinches. Not dramatically. Just a subtle shift in his jaw, his breath caught wrong.

Like it’s only now hitting him that being let in -truly in- came with weight. That he held something fragile in his hands and dropped it anyway.

And you?

You hate that your voice breaks on the next part.

"You were the only one I thought I didn’t have to protect myself from."

He takes a step forward. Slow. Careful. Like he’s approaching something wounded and wild.

You don’t move- not back, not forward. Just watching him, tight-lipped and trembling like you’re holding yourself together with spit and thread.

"Don’t," you say, low and hollow.

He stops. Hands hovering like he might reach for you and thinks better of it. Again.

"Kid-"

You flinch at the nickname. Just slightly, but enough. He notices. Of course he does.

That damn observant look of his. It used to make you feel seen. Now it just makes you feel exposed. Like he sees the ache he put there and doesn’t know how to address it.

He doesn’t know what to fix first.

The way he spoke to you?

The way he looked at you after?

The way he didn’t come after you when you left?

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Tries again.

"That day, I didn’t mean-"

You cut him off, voice like stone, "You never mean to. That’s the whole problem."

The silence after is raw.

He doesn’t step closer. He doesn’t step back. He just stays there, suspended in regret.

Like, he finally understands the difference between being in someone’s corner and being someone they can truly rely on.

The tension is suffocating. It coils in your lungs like smoke, thick and hot and inescapable.

Joel says nothing. Quiet again. Resigned. His eyes fix somewhere over your shoulder, or maybe nowhere at all. You can’t tell.

He won’t even look at you. You were always a ghost to him, weightless. Unseen.

A haunting he never asked for.

A slight inconvenience, someone he tolerated for Tommy's sake. Never close enough to matter. Never far enough to ignore.

And that tells you everything.

You’re not getting an explanation. Not now. Not ever.

Whatever that moment was, the truth he nearly let slip, the rawness behind his voice, it’s already retreating back into the dark.

You feel it, the distance returning, sharp and cold, like the final click of a door locking from the inside.

Of course. Of course he’d leave you standing there with nothing. Of course he’d choose silence again.

Because that’s what he does. That’s what he’s always done.

And suddenly your chest feels too tight, your throat dry, like your body’s trying to brace for impact but the crash never comes.

So you nod. Once. Slow.

You turn to leave and he doesn’t stop you.

But as you move past him, something inside you screams enough. And before you can stop yourself-

“Why do you hate me so much?” you ask, your voice cracking before you mean it to. You weren’t even going to say anything, but the way he always looks at you, jaw clenched, arms crossed, that permanent scowl — it’s been eating at you for years.

Joel’s response is a gruff, confused, “What?”

“Every time I’m around, you act like I’ve done something wrong. Like you can’t stand the sight of me. I just- what did I ever do to you, Joel?”

His face shifts. Something flickers in his eyes- not anger. Something else. But it’s gone before you can name it.

“You didn’t do nothin’.” he says quietly.

“Then why? Why are you always so angry with me?”

He won’t look at you. Something between a huff and a laugh escapes his mouth, like he’s mocking you. Silence stretches. But you keep going, your voice sharper now, almost shaking.

“Is it because I’m not your business? Because I was always just Tommy’s dumb little friend hanging around? Or is it just fun for you; pushing me away over and over until I finally take the hint?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” he snaps, his voice cold and defensive, eyes glittering with barely-contained rage.

“Then say it!” you bite out, bitter and breathless. “Whatever it is you’ve been holding back for years; say it. Tell me what the hell I ever did to make you look at me like I’m something you need to keep your distance from.”

You’re flushed now. Heart pounding. He still won’t look at you. So you take a step forward.

“Is it because I’m too young? Because I’m soft? Because I forgive people who don’t deserve it?”

Now, finally, Joel looks at you. Maybe he thinks this is meant for him. Maybe he knows he’s one of those who don’t deserve it- forgiveness. Your forgiveness. And something inside him snaps.

“It’s because I can’t afford to look at you the way I want to.” he says low, furious.

You blink. Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t that.

“It’s because every time you walk into a goddamn room, I feel like I can breathe for the first time in days. And that shouldn’t be your burden.”

“Joel..” you whisper, barely audible.

He goes on, more raw now.

“You think I’m angry with you? I’m angry with myself. For wantin’ something I got no right to want. For feelin’ like maybe -maybe- there’s a version of me that could be good enough for you. But there ain’t.”

He laughs once, bitter, shaking his head.

“I push you away because if I didn’t, I’d never stop reachin’ for you. And you deserve better than a man who can’t let himself want good things without breakin’ ‘em.”

Silence. His jaw tightens. His fists clench at his sides.

“I would’ve given you everything, Joel.” you say, voice trembling. “You didn’t even have to ask.”

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. Like you just said something cruel. His face twists- not in anger, but disbelief. Something almost panicked beneath the surface.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, quiet, almost pleading.

“What?” you ask, startled.

“You think you do, but you don’t. You’ve always looked at me like I’m some fixed thing. Like I’m solid. Steady. That ain’t love, sweetheart. That’s just safety.”

You blink, like he’s slapped you. And he keeps going, like he has to kill the feeling before it grows roots.

“You don’t want me. You want the idea of me. What I was to Tommy. What I never was to you.”

“If I ever let you close enough to see what’s really here,” Joel gestures vaguely- to his chest, his heart, whatever broken thing still beats inside him, “you’d realize you don’t love me. You just mistook the feelin’. And I can’t be the reason you lose that part of yourself.”

But you’re steady now. Hurt, but unwavering.

“Don’t you dare tell me what I feel.”

Joel stiffens. But you don’t stop.

“You think I saw you as safe? You? With that goddamn storm behind your eyes? With the way you look at the world like it already failed you?”

You step closer. You don’t shout; you just slice.

“I’ve spent years trying to figure out why the worst parts of you still felt like home. Why every time you pushed me away, I wanted to stay. Why I kept waiting for one -just one- moment of softness from you like it might be enough to last me a lifetime.”

You laugh, bitterly, like he did earlier.

“You think I made you into something better than you are? No, Joel. I saw all of it. Every wall. Every silence. Every time you looked right through me like it would be easier if I just disappeared.”

You swallow hard. Your voice cracks, just once.

“And I loved you anyway.”

Silence. He stares at you- stunned. Maybe horrified. Maybe something else. You’d say he almost looks scared of you; if you didn’t know any better.

You continue, quieter. “You don’t get to tell me I mistook the feeling. You just didn’t want to believe anyone could see the truth and stay.”

And then you push again, sharp, your voice shaking with rage and pain as you step forward.

“So, I ask you again, Joel, because you’ve failed to answer me, how dare you tell me what I feel?”

He exhales, tired, low. “I’m tryin’ to protect you-”

“No,” you cut him off. “You’re protecting yourself. Because it’s easier to believe I’m just confused than to admit someone could really love you for who you are. Even with all the shit you carry.”

He flinches. You see it. And it only hurts more.

“I do love you.” you tell him. “I love the man who sits in silence and makes sure everyone else eats first. The man who takes the blame even when it isn’t his. The man who looks at me like he’s drowning but won’t reach out.”

You’re toe to toe now. Your voice drops.

“You think that’s not real? You think I don’t know the difference between comfort and love after everything I’ve survived?”

Your next words come softer, almost breaking.

“You’re not some ghost I projected things onto, Joel. I see you. And I still want you.”

You’re standing so close you can feel the heat of him, the weight of his breath on your face and for a second, you think maybe- maybe this is the moment he’ll finally stop holding back. You reach out, slow, your fingertips brushing the side of his jaw, tentative, trembling with everything you can’t say.

“Joel..” you whisper.

But the second your hand touches him, he flinches- just slightly. Like a breath he wasn’t ready for. Like instinct. But it’s enough. You freeze, your hand falling, your face crumbling. The air goes out of you all at once.

“Right. I- got it,” you say, pulling back, your voice thin and wrecked.

You turn quickly. You don’t want him to see your face, the way it crumples, the way your shoulders shake.

He doesn’t move at first- he’s frozen, like the breath has been punched out of him. But then-

“Wait. Wait- no. No, don’t- don’t do that,” Joel blurts out, panicked.

You keep walking. He follows.

“Don’t you dare think that was about you,” he says, more urgent now.

You stop at the door but don’t turn around. His voice is shaking. You’ve never heard him like this.

“You think I flinched ‘cause I didn’t want you to touch me?”

Your fists clench at your sides. Your heart pounds on your chest; you’re sure he can hear it.

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” you admit quietly, trying to hide your broken voice.

Joel crosses the distance between you before you can move again. His hand catches your wrist- gentle but firm, turning you to look at him. His voice is low, rough, but soft in a way you’ve never heard before.

“I flinched because it felt like everything I’ve been tryin’ not to feel for years just broke wide open.”

You finally look at him. His eyes are dark, wet, desperate.

“Because the second you touched me, I wanted to fall into it. Into you. And I’ve spent so long convincing myself I don’t get to have that.”

His hand slides to your cheek- slowly, like he’s asking for permission with every inch.

This time, he touches you. His thumb brushes your jaw, reverent. Like he’s memorizing the shape of you in case he loses the right to ever do this again.

“You scare the hell outta me,” Joel breathes, “because you look at me like I’m someone worth lettin’ in. And I ain’t. I know I ain’t. But-”, he leans in, his forehead resting against yours, his voice shaking, “-just this once. Let me pretend I am.”

You don’t move. You don’t speak. You just breathe -ragged, shallow- afraid that if you say anything, the spell will break and he’ll pull away again.

But part of you still doesn’t trust it.

Not fully. Not yet.

“Joel..” your voice comes soft, almost broken. “Please don’t do this if you’re gonna disappear tomorrow.”

He doesn’t answer, and you can see the war raging inside him; you can almost taste it. The doubt. And that silence? It kills you.

So you turn. Ready to leave, to protect what’s left of you.

But he moves, fast.

He doesn’t grab you, just steps into your path, like it’s instinct. For a moment, he considers pressing his palm to the door to stop you. But after everything you’ve been through, he knows better. Even now, even here, he remembers.

“Don’t go,” Joel says, low and aching. One hand half-raised like he’s scared of touching you, scared of what it’ll mean if you let him.

“Why?” you ask, sharp, trembling. “So you can push me away all over again tomorrow?”

He flinches, but he doesn’t look away. He looks at you like he’s falling apart, eyes dark and wide, as if just saying this next part might break him completely.

And then-

“Because if you walk out that door thinkin’ I don’t love you, I won’t survive it.”

The realization.

Your breath catches.

His words settle like thunder under your skin. You look at him -really look- and for the first time, there’s no mask. No guarded distance. Just raw, shattered truth.

He takes a slow step closer, like he’s giving you time to run.

"You still wanna walk away?" Joel’s voice is hoarse.

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Joel’s thumb brushes your cheek, his hand warm and steady now, no longer holding back. His forehead rests against yours, and when he speaks, it’s like a promise that’s already been broken.

"Tell me to stop. If you do, I swear I will."

But you don’t. You can’t. Not when he’s looking at you like this. Like you’re something he needs to survive.

"Don’t," you breathe.

That’s all it takes. The dam breaks. He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years and then his mouth is on yours, hungry, devastated, like he’s sorry and aching and starved all at once.

His lips are rough but his hands are gentle, like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you. The kiss starts slow, reverent and builds, deepens. His hands cradle your face, your waist, pulling you closer like he can’t get enough. Your fingers knot in his shirt, dragging him down, pressing into him.

You gasp into his mouth, and he groans like it’s a sound he didn’t mean to let out. He presses you back against the wall, not rough, not aggressive, but desperate.

"Been wantin’ this for so long.." he murmurs into your mouth.

Your hips shift and he feels it- the press of you against him. His hands fall to your waist, dragging you tighter against him, grinding into you like he needs the friction, needs proof this is real.

You arch into him, needy, breathless. He presses into you, the thick line of his thigh between yours, the heat of his body unbearable. Every little grind is slow, controlled, but filled with hunger.

"You don’t even know what you’re doin’ to me…" Joel’s voice is hoarse, dark and full of disbelief.

You whimper at the sound of it. He rests his forehead against your neck, breathing hard, hips rolling into yours.

"Then show me," you whisper, soft and ruined.

He kisses you again, deeper this time; his tongue slipping past your lips, tangling with yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm. You think you’d float away, lost in a dream, if the coarse scruff of his beard wasn’t there, grounding you, prickling the skin around your lips.

His hand slides under your shirt, just skin and warmth and a shiver down your spine. But then he pulls back, just a little, breathing hard.

"If we keep goin’, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop."

"Then don’t."

Your lips part from his, breaths mingling in the heavy air. Joel’s hands don’t rush; they trace the lines of your body through your clothes, deliberate and sure, like he’s committing every inch of you to memory.

His fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, ghosting over your ribs, fingertips grazing your skin lightly before returning to the fabric. One hand cups your waist, pulling you flush against his hard thigh- the heat there like a magnet.

You shift your hips slowly, grinding against him, feeling the solid muscle beneath the fabric, the tension building with every tiny movement.

"So needy already.. what happens when I really touch you?" His voice is low and rough.

You whimper, pressing closer, needing more contact.

"Feels good, baby? Keep grindin’ just like that."

His hands slide to the front of your shirt, palms cradling your soft breasts, thumbs sweeping lightly over your nipples through the thin fabric. He feels them stiffen instantly beneath his palms, the reaction so visceral it sends a jolt through him, something raw, almost primal, uncoiling in his chest. His fingers pinch and roll them with just enough pressure to make your back arch, to draw a broken gasp from your lips.

He watches you writhe, mesmerized by the way you react to every twist of his fingers, the way you shiver and press into his hands like you need more- need him.

Your hands find his wrists, holding him close, desperate for more.

His thumbs drag slowly again over the sensitive peaks, his mouth watering at the thought of that taut skin against his tongue and he swears under his breath, voice thick.

"Joel- please.." you breathe.

He chuckles darkly, his lips brushing against your jaw. His brain is deep in a haze of desire and need; he's not in control anymore. Maybe he never was- maybe he was always waiting for you to undo him.

His thigh tightens beneath you, holding you steady as you grind harder, matching his rhythm without words. His fingers tease, flick, and pinch lightly, coaxing every sigh and tremble from you.

"You feel that? That’s mine. You're gonna come for me, right here, just like this. Show me you’re mine."

You arch into him, breath hitching, heart pounding as the friction and his teasing combine into a storm inside you. His hands roam with growing confidence, undeterred by your soft moans and shudders. You can feel the heat pooling low in your belly, spreading fast and he’s right there- steady and sure beneath you, grounding you even as your senses spiral.

The world narrows to the feel of him, the sound of your ragged breaths and the tight coil of pleasure winding up inside you.

Your breaths come faster, your chest rising and falling as Joel’s fingers trace tight circles over your nipples, every pass sending sparks of heat through you, even though he still hasn’t touched you directly. Your hips grind harder, trembling as the tension coils tighter and tighter.

You cry out softly against his pouty lips, your body shuddering against his thigh. The warmth pools low and spreads, waves crashing through you and he swallows every little whimper and moan like a man parched. Your fingers clutch his shirt, digging in as the pleasure ripples and crashes, leaving you breathless and undone.

"God.." Joel whispers, voice almost breaking.

He watches you fall apart- skin flushed, eyes half-lidded, lips parted and something inside him twists.

The love scene.

His hands freeze for a moment, not wanting to disturb you but desperate to hold onto you. He leans closer, forehead resting against yours, breath warm and steady. Joel watches -intense, silent- his gaze fixed on how your body unravels under his touch, how every shiver and sigh seems to pull at something deep inside him.

His hand stills, hovering just above your skin, afraid to break the fragile spell but desperate to hold onto this moment. His jaw tightens, eyes dark with a storm of emotions he won’t speak aloud- need, protectiveness, and something rawer he’s terrified to admit.

He wants to say something, anything, to stop the rush of feelings, to keep things safe and simple. But the words catch in his throat.

Instead, he simply presses his forehead against yours, breath warm and uneven, trying to steady himself. His body tenses beneath you, a silent war raging inside him; he’s drawn to you like never before, but his mind is screaming that this could burn everything to ashes.

Your breath stays uneven, chest pressed to his, foreheads touching like you’re both holding on to something that would vanish the moment you let go.

"Joel, look at me."

He hesitates. You can feel it- the tremble in his hands, the slight shift in his stance, like his whole body’s braced for you to disappear.

"I’m lookin’."

"I’m still here."

And you are -flushed, shaking, pupils blown wide- but still tethered to him, anchored in this fragile space between fear and want. You watch the fight flicker in his eyes. The way his jaw clenches. The way his hands, warm and steady a moment ago, are now flexing like he’s trying not to grab hold too tight.

"You shouldn’t be."

"Don’t."

He closes his eyes, just for a second. Like that word, like your voice, cuts deeper than it should.

"I don’t know how to do this without hurtin’ you."

"I’m already hurt, Joel. But not by what we just did. By you thinking I can’t decide for myself what I want."

That hits him. You see it. The flinch. The ache. The guilt sinking its claws in.

But you don’t stop. You can’t.

"You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to be safe. I just need you to be real."

He looks at you like he’s drowning again. Like you’re offering him something he’s too afraid to take. But his hand rises anyway -slow, hesitant- and brushes your cheek again, thumb catching a tear you didn’t know had slipped down.

"I don’t wanna lose this. Lose you. But I don’t know if I can be the kind of man you hold onto."

"Then let me decide that."

You take his hand. Place it against your chest. Let him feel the way your heart hammers beneath your ribs.

"I already am. Can't you feel it?"

One breath. Then another. Joel exhales slowly, like something inside him just gave up the fight. And what’s left is raw and exposed and his.

He kisses you again, slower this time. Less desperation, more reverence. Like a man memorizing his last breath. And this time, he doesn't pull away.

The kiss deepens again, but there’s no trembling now. No flinching. Just heat. Just his hands moving with purpose, sliding beneath your clothes, skin on skin, rough palms and calloused fingers learning you like he’s starved for the taste.

You gasp as he lifts your shirt, tugging it over your head and tossing it aside. His eyes drag down your body like a slow burn, reverent, almost disbelieving.

"Jesus Christ.."

He cups your breasts, thumbs brushing around your nipples, already raw and swollen from his earlier attention, watching the way your back arches into him like instinct. His mouth follows next, hot and open against your tender skin, teeth grazing your stiffened peaks with aching slowness.

Your cunt is pulsing painfully in anticipation, your panties soaked and surely ruining the thick denim of his jeans. All you seem to be able to do is beg for him one more time.

"Joel- please.. I can't-"

He growls -actually growls- the sound scraping low from his chest, like he’s been waiting years to hear that. His hands roam lower, finding the button of your shorts, undoing them slowly, deliberately, giving you just enough time to stop him, but you won’t. You can’t.

Your hands are just as greedy, tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel him, to know him the way he’s never let anyone close enough to know. When you finally get it off him, it’s almost too much. All of him -broad and solid and burning under your palms.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I want you to fuck me, Joel."

A pause. A beat. Like the words steal the air from his lungs.

Then he moves.

Your back hits the wall again -gently, but firm- and his body follows, pressing against yours, one hand slipping into your panties, fingers sliding through slick heat with an almost broken sound.

"You’re so fuckin’ wet.." he breathes against that sensitive spot right beneath your ear and you can feel his hard cock grinding for relief against your hip.

You cry out as two thick fingers slide into you, curling just right, slow and deep. Your soft walls flutter around his digits, welcoming the intrusion. His other hand grabs your thigh, hitching it up around his waist. He’s grinding into you now, rutting slow, the thick line of his cock still trapped behind denim- but you can feel it. Every inch of it, hard and pulsing through his jeans.

The slick, obscene squelch of his fingers pumping in and out of your soaked cunt only makes you ache more, arousal spilling down his wrist. You’re so fucking close to snapping, to breaking apart if he doesn’t fuck you right now.

“God, Joel- need you inside me-”

"I know, baby. I know. I got you."

He pulls his hand back, wet with you and brings it to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean with a groan that makes your knees buckle. Then he tugs your shorts down, sliding them off you and undoes his jeans, shoving them low enough to free himself and—

Fuck.

He’s thick. Long. Heavy in his hand as he strokes himself once, twice, eyes fixed on you like you’re the only thing keeping him standing.

Heat spreads across your skin and you’re acutely aware of how vulnerable you are and how completely ready your body is for him. You lean forward, gently brushing his hand away and replacing it with your own. He hisses at the contact. The head of his shaft pulses against your palm, and your fingers curl around him, unable to stop yourself from feeling how rock-hard he is.

"I’ll go slow. Just.. hold onto me.", his voice is low and thick with need. Your heart lurches at the raw sincerity in his tone and you press your body closer, arms instinctively wrapping tightly around his neck.

He lifts you effortlessly, one leg hooking around his hip and pulling you flush against him. With one impatient tug, his fingers sweep your panties to the side, and cool air skims over your heated skin.

The slick tip of him nudges at your entrance, and a sharp gasp escapes you as you feel him teasing you through your wetness.

He sinks into you with one slow, steady thrust and you arch back, teeth gritting to keep the first cry from escaping. A fierce burn flares deep inside as the first inch slides in, and you instinctively dig your nails into his shoulders.

He groans, bending to press his lips against your ear, and exhales your name as he pauses. Inch by inch, he pushes deeper, every fraction of an inch driving wild pleasure through you. Warmth and fullness bloom between your bodies and a long, trembling sigh escapes as your muscles flutter around him, completely filled, leaving you both panting and still.

"That’s it. That’s it, sweetheart, takin’ me so good.."

He stays there, buried deep inside you, forehead resting on your shoulder, both of you trembling, both of you lost.

Then he starts to move.

Slow. Deep. Unrelenting.

The song of your bodies meeting- skin against skin, the slick, filthy rhythm of it- fills the room. Your moans spill into his mouth as he kisses you again, tongue tangled with yours, every thrust more desperate, more real than anything either of you has ever known.

"Wanted this.. fuck, wanted you for so long-" he mumbles and you don't know if he's talking to you or to himself.

"Don’t stop. Please- don’t stop-"

He doesn’t. He can’t.

He’s fucking you like he means it, like this is the first and last time he’ll ever get to love someone like this- with everything in him, without apology, without restraint. His hips snap into you with purpose, rhythm deep and relentless, like he’s trying to bury himself in you, like he’s trying to leave part of himself behind.

You can feel the tremble in his arms where they hold you steady, the sweat slicking between your bodies, the way his breath stutters every time you clench around him.

Your name spills from his lips like prayer- wrecked, reverent, desperate. He dips his head into the crook of your neck, mouth open against your skin, teeth dragging over your pulse point like he needs to anchor himself before he loses it completely.

"You feel so fuckin’ good," he groans, voice raw. "Shit- don’t know how I ever lived without this."

Your nails dig into his back, trying to pull him closer, trying to keep him right there- inside you, on you, with you. You meet every thrust with your own, chasing that edge together, breathing each other in like oxygen.

Your drooling cunt chokes his dick with every pulse, soaking him all the way down to the base, slick spilling down his balls and ruining his jeans. The sounds of skin slapping skin make you both feral with lust. Your breasts bounce with every hard thrust, your nipples dragging against the coarse hairs on his toned chest, slick and flushed from the effort.

His hand snakes from the small of your back to the base of your neck, wrapping firm- grounding, claiming. You feel your walls flutter instantly under his grip.

“Not yet,” he breathes- simple, sharp, possessive- against your pleasure-parted lips. Like he knows your body better than you do. Like he knows you'll obey.

“Not till I say. You hear me?” His breath is hot against your lips. “You come when I take it from you.”

Everything in you screams to hold on, to never let go of this feeling- this heat, this fucking need. It’s too much and still not enough. Your vision swims with unshed tears, pleasure cresting into pain, into surrender.

His other hand grabs your thigh, spreads you wider and he drives in deeper, his cock hitting so deep it knocks the breath from your lungs.

“I need to hear it.” he snarls, forehead pressing to yours, eyes wild. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

Your jaw falls open on a gasp, but no sound comes. You can’t. You can barely breathe. He fucks into you harder, his grip tightening.

“Say it, baby. Say it or I stop. Say who this pussy belongs to.”

Your eyes fill with tears- overstimulated, overwhelmed but your voice still breaks through.

“You- Joel, fuck- you- I’m yours- please- don’t stop-”

He groans, deep and guttural, like that was all he needed to unravel.

“That’s right. You’ve always been. Even when I couldn’t have you. Even when I told myself I shouldn’t touch you.”

He drags his mouth over your jaw, your neck, breathing you in like a man starved.

“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else. I want you so fucked out and full’a me, no one else ever stands a fuckin’ chance.”

It’s too much- the pressure, the stretch, the heat, him. You try to hold back, to obey, but your walls flutter dangerously around him and he feels it.

“Now.” he growls, voice tearing through the air like a command from God. “Come for me.”

And when you finally fall apart around him- walls pulsing, thighs trembling, stars bursting behind your eyes- you gasp his name like it’s the only word you know, clinging to him like you’ll never let go.

“Mine. Fuckin’ mine.” he growls before he follows you with a broken moan, hips stuttering, his whole body seizing as he spills into you, holding you so tight it’s almost bruising. His face is buried in your neck, breath ragged, heartbeat thundering against your chest like it’s trying to match yours.

Like maybe, for a moment, they’re the same.

The aftermath.

He doesn’t move for a long time. Still buried inside you, still trembling- not from release, but from everything after.

His arms are locked around you, your chests pressed together, heartbeats still thundering in unison. You feel the sweat cooling on his back, his breath uneven against your neck. But it’s not the aftermath of sex that makes him shake.

It’s you.

The fact that he finally has you and the sick, gut-deep fear that he might still lose you.

His hand slides up your spine slowly, until it cups the back of your head. He kisses your hair. Your temple. The curve of your jaw.

“You okay?”

His voice is hoarse- too soft for a man like him and yet it holds the weight of a warning. Like he’s asking if you regret it. If he should start bracing for impact.

You nod, whispering his name into his chest.

His jaw tightens, and you feel it- the wildness under the surface, the animal in him that’s never known gentleness without loss. He kisses you- slow at first, then harder, like he needs to claim the truth on your lips.

“You’re mine now,” he mutters, almost to himself. His hand slides down to your thigh, gripping it, pressing you closer, even though you’re already one body.

“You got no idea what that means, do you?” he murmurs against your mouth. “No fuckin’ clue what I’d do for you.”

You look at him -really look- and suddenly you do.

Because this isn’t about sex. It’s about Joel and how, for once in his life, he wants something enough to stay. To fight. To keep.

He brushes his nose against yours. A soft, strange thing from such a hard man.

“You’re not just mine,” he says, barely audible. “I’m yours too, if you still want me.”

He knows he’s done for. He can’t go back- not after this.

The choice is yours now.

It always was. It always will be.

You lift your head, eyes glassy, lips trembling.

“I always did.”

“Then I got you. I swear to God, I got you.”

And for the first time, you believe it.

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moonlit-imagines · 1 year ago

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Headcanons for being the forgetful Avenger

Avengers x reader

warnings:

a/n: it not too long i so sorry

prompt: @glitchy-bean: “Hi!!! I hope you're doing good!!! Could I request smth with a really forgetful reader + the avengers gang? More like found family than anything romantic at all with a teen reader if that's okay!!!”

“well sorry” -you, consistently “i cant remember everything”

“you can’t remember anything” -nat

“yeah, y/n, were you dropped on the head as a baby or something?” -tony

“cut it out, guys. it’s not their fault they forgot thor’s birthday. besides, hes had a couple thousand” -steve

“are you calling me old, captain?” -thor

“at least im not the only one” -steve

it wasn’t just birthdays you forgot

much much more serious than that

rendezvous points, mission details, plans of attack, perp descriptions, where you put your keys, where you put your gun

you name it you forgot it

i mean—not always, but enough for it to be the running joke

“keep your comms on, y/n. not having a disaster like last time when you couldn’t remember whether to cut the red wire or green wire” -tony

“you wish i cut the wrong one” -you

“uh, no, that’s very harsh. i moreso wished you didn’t scare us half to death by nearly digging your grave” -tony

“oh ok i forgot” -you

“who left their macaroni and cheese in the microwave?” -vision

“damn! its cold. and crusted a little. how long did i leave this in here?” -you, poking your tray with a fork “and why are you using the microwave? you dont eat”

“this is a shared space, is it not?” -vision

“he’s got you there” -steve

“you’re just ganging up on me because you’re all miserable and you want me to be miserable too. i’m going to drive one of tony’s expensive cars now, you can’t stop me” -you, storming out

you walked right back in

“what’d you forget?” -steve

“wallet, phone, keys” -you

tony noticed

“where is y/n going with my car?” -tony

“not sure, just out” -steve

“probably gonna forget their turn signal and crash into someone’s car” -tony

as far as missions went, though, you were a bit of a powerhouse so you didn’t really need to be looked after on that front…just had to make sure not to blow anyone else’s cover

“hey, what’s the codeword again?” -you

“check your wrist, kid” -nat

“oh, right…okay thanks” -you

“*gasp* was i supposed to give the signal? i just kinda went in” -you

“ok, who told y/n they could give the signal. speak up now” -tony

*clint loudly snickering over comms*

kinda forgetting what you’re talking about in the middle of sentences sometimes but like, just glitching out

“something smells like it’s burning” -you “my cookies…��

you forgot to set a timer

and forgot you were making cookies

the avengers honestly did find it endearing

just a hyper kid who cant get their thoughts in a solid line

but they’d continue making jabs at you constantly

“maybe wanda can fix your memory problems” -tony

“i will not” -wanda

“oh well nevermind then” -tony

honestly with all your forgetfulness, you worried as you dusted away if anyone would forget about you

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //

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moose-mousse · 6 months ago

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Ok. I am going to let you in on a secret about how to make programming projects.

You know how people write really good code? Easy to read, easy to work with, easy to understand and very efficient?

By refactoring.

The idea that you write glorious nice code straight is an insane myth that comes from thinking tutorials is how people actually code.

That is because programming is just writing. Nothing more. Same as all other writing.

The hobbit is ~95000 words.

Do you think Tolkien created the Hobbit by writing 95 thousand words?

Of course not! He wrote many many times that. Storylines that ended up scrapped or integrated in other ways, sections that got rewritten, dialog written again and again as the rest of the story happened. Background details filled in after the story had settled down

Writing. Is. Rewriting.

Coding. Is. Refactoring.

Step 1 in programming is proof of concept. Start with the most dangerous part of your project ( danger = how little experience you have with it * how critical it is for your project to work )

Get it to do... anything.

Make proof of concept code for all the most dangerous parts of the project. Ideally there is only 1 of these. If there is more than 3 then your project is too big. ( yes, this means your projects needs to be TINY )

Then write and refactor code to get a minimum viable pruduct. It should do JUUUUUST the most important critical things.

Now you have a proper codebase. Now everytime you need to expand or fix things, also refactor the code you touch in order to do this. Make it a little bit nicer and better. Write unit tests for it. The works.

After a while, the code that works perfectly and never needs to be touched is hard to read. Which does not matter because you will never read it

And the code that you need to change often is the nicest code in the codebase.

TRYING TO GUESS AHEAD OF TIME WHAT PARTS OF THE CODE WILL BE CHANGED OFTEN IS A FOOLS ERRAND.

( also, use git. Dear god use git and commit no more than 10 lines at once and write telling descriptions for each. GIT shows WHAT you did. YOU write WHY you did it )

Is this how to make your hobby project?

Yes. And also how all good software everywhere is made.

#codeblr #software #developer #software development #software developer #programmer #programming #coding #softeware

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impala-dreamer · 4 months ago

Text

A Rod & A Ryder

A Supernaturally Silly Story

~ When Dean decides to give Y/N a sexy DIY gift, he finds himself in a rather tight predicament ~

Dean Winchester x Reader, Castiel

3,306 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Talk of Sex Toys and Self Love, Tiny Fleck of Jealous!Dean, Mishaps, Crack

For @jacklesversebingo “Free Square”

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

Dean hung back while Y/N was at the counter. She was more than capable of interviewing the salesperson by herself, and besides, he had other things to investigate. Like, for instance, the extremely large red, white, and blue dildo sitting on the shelf by the window.

He blinked a few times at the toy, marveling at the size and wondering how a human being could open any hole, mouth included, wide enough to insert such a tree trunk of a phallus. Deciding it was simply a gag gift, and laughing at the word ‘gag’ even as he thought it, Dean moved on, trying not to become too enthralled by the offerings around the sex shop.

He’d been in porn shops before, but not in a long while, and they were certainly fancier than he remembered. Slightly more adventurous too.

Whips in various sizes and materials lined the wall to his right; plush handcuffs and spacer bars were displayed to his left. A section seemingly devoted to Fifty Shades held his attention for a while. More than a few things raised an eyebrow and he couldn’t help but look over at Y/N, wondering if she’d ever allow such things into their bedroom. It wasn’t like he longed to fix that cute powder-pink collar on her throat and lead her around on a leash, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before. Just like he hadn’t thought about her locking little Dean up in one of those tiny metal cages and teasing him until he-

“See somethin’ you like?”

Her question made him jump and Dean turned with pink cheeks towards his girlfriend.

Y/N was holding back a laugh, trying not to embarrass him and blow their cover. Federal Agents weren’t known to giggle like twelve year olds at vibrators and butt plugs, even the ones with fluffy tails on the ends.

One such tail drew Y/N’s attention and she picked the sample up from the clear display shelf and wiggled it in his face, making him cringe and back up a step.

“Gross,” he laughed, swatting away the faux fox fur. “Stop that.”

Y/N set the toy back in its spot and bit her lip. “Why, Agent Zappa, I never pegged you for a prude.”

Dean stood up straight and adjusted his tie. “First of all, you’ve never pegged me at all, and-”

A twinkle sparkled in her eye. “I could, ya know-”

He sucked in a quick breath and ignored the offer. “Secondly…” He cleared his throat. “I’m not a prude, I’m just a little… There’s a lot of stuff here that… I mean- come on.” He waved at a line of latex cocks behind her and Y/N spun around, coming face to face with a rather realistic looking, fully erect penis.

“Oh my…”

Dean hummed. “Exactly.”

Curious, Y/N picked up the corresponding box and scanned the information on the back. “Huh.”

“What?”

Holding up the box, she read from the description: “This lifelike replica is molded directly from one of the hottest porn stars of the new millennium. Sterling Rod’s eleven inch cock is crafted with incredibly lifelike, innovative material that replicates the texture and firmness of the real thing.”

Dean swallowed hard, looking up at the longer-than-life penis and then sadly down at his crotch. “Eleven inches?”

Y/N hummed a sexy little note and carried on. “The dynamic features of this beautiful dildo include realistically jiggling balls that enhance the authenticity of the experience…”

“OK, we don’t have to keep reading that…” Something about fake jiggling balls made him uncomfortable.

“The suction cup bottom gives you a hands free option to-”

“Suction cup?” Green eyes glazed over as a quick fantasy scene played in his head. Y/N, alone in the Bunker, bouncing on Sterling Rod’s rod suction cupped to the top of the table in the War Room, her juicy bottom illuminated by the glowing map. His slacks shrank a bit.

“The impressive eleven inch length…” Y/N let out an impressed breath and squirmed, adjusting her weight from one foot to the other.

He frowned at the measurement and her apparent interest. She always said he was the perfect size for her and yet-

“...Delving deeper than any other to pleasure you in ways no man can.”

“OK!” Jerking the box away, Dean put an end to his torture. “OK. I get it.”

Y/N pursed her lips and squinted at him. “Jealous?”

“Of a toy?” He leaned back, offended. “No.”

“It’s not just a toy,” she teased. “It’s Sterling Rod’s cock.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s not his actual cock. That’s just for advertising.”

“No, no. It’s really him.” Y/N picked up the box and pointed out the print she’d just read aloud. “Molded directly from-”

“Please don’t read it again.”

Shrugging, she returned the box. “They do that now, ya know,” she laughed. “For the girls too.”

Dean’s jealousy faded and his interest perked up. “What now?”

“Mhm.” Y/N spun on her heel and crooked a finger at him.

Dean followed without hesitation as Y/N led him to the other side of the store.

The multicolored dildos and clit-sucking vibrators gave way to pocket masturbators and lube, anal beads, and a set of manly blank nipple clamps that made Dean’s pulse quicken just a bit.

Y/N paused beside a display of what, from far away, appeared to be blooming roses. “See? Custom pussies.”

A joke tickled his throat. “Say that again?”

“Custom. Pussies.” She popped the P and Dean choked back a laugh. “See? This one is Angel Ryder’s.”

“Angel Ryder?” Dean smirked. “Good name…”

“You know her.”

Dean’s brows furrowed in thought.

“You know, the redhead in the trench coat from that one we watched on Christmas…”

The tip of his tongue pressed against his front teeth as he scanned his memory.

Y/N sighed. “With the tattoo… on her…”

Dean lit up. “Oh! Yeah. OK… I remember her.” He blinked and saw her in his head: big, fake tits bouncing on a muscular Santa’s lap. His lips puckered into a horny grin.

“Yeah. Her.” Y/N picked up the box beneath the flourishing rubber vagina and held it out to him. “Molded from her actual sausage wallet.”

Dean scanned the box and nodded in approval. “So they just like… stick some goo up there and-”

“Ew. No.”

“No?”

Y/N paused for a moment and pondered. “Actually, I have no idea how they do it, but I’m sure they don’t just tip her upside down and pour silicone in there.”

Dean smirked.

Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes. When she righted them, they were stuck on the ridiculously long length of Sterling’s erect silicone dick and she hummed in a way Dean didn’t care for.

He cleared his throat. “You don’t have any… ya know…”

It was endearing that he couldn’t even ask. They’d fucked in the back of his car, on the hood of his car, in random bars, once in the woods next to a flaming vampire nest, and even in the Franklin Mills County Morgue while sneaking in late at night for evidence. But the fact that he couldn’t ask her right out if she had a box of sex toys tucked away somewhere was too adorable to not tease him for.

“Dean, are you asking me if I have a dildo?”

He swallowed hard and tugged at the knot of his navy tie, loosening it a tiny bit. “Well, yeah.”

She refused to answer verbally but gave him a very affirmative shrug.

His jaw dropped. “In our bedroom?” He lowered his voice, comically leaning in so the saleswoman of a sex shop couldn’t hear them discussing sex stuff. “You have a fake dick in our bedroom when you’ve got a… pretty impressive human specimen right next to you whenever you want?”

His eyes were wide with worry and Y/N took pity. She lay her hand warmly on his arm.

“Baby, I don’t use it… all the time. It’s just there for like… .emergencies.”

“Emergencies?”

“You know, if you’re out or-”

He jerked upright. “So when I’m out getting pizza, you’re riding plastic probes?”

Her laugh was unstoppable but strangled. “No. Like, if you’re away for a while. I miss you, ya know.”

He softened a bit at that.

“And, excuse, me, are you saying you don’t masturbate anymore?”

“Uh…” Green eyes flitted about, looking for a safe place to land.

“It’s OK if you do.”

Dean shrugged just as she had. “A man has… needs, Y/N/N.”

“You’re cute.” Giving up on the conversation lest things get too intense, Y/N pushed up on her toes and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “But can we go? The scent of edible lube is making me sick.”

She turned away before he could answer and Dean gave Angel Ryder’s plump petals an intrigued look. Saying a farewell, he turned to the door, jogging a few quick steps to catch up.

“Hey! I thought you liked wild cherry…”

Time wore on and the memory of their explicit sex shop conversation had mostly faded into the Arizona horizon. Y/N hadn’t brought up their chat again after they’d banged it out in the hotel room that night, and she’d even stopped teasing him about how she would introduce him to the little purple pole hidden in her underwear drawer.

Dean, however, couldn’t get the idea of Y/N playing with some other dude’s joystick, even if it was made of plastic, out of his head. If she was fucking some dick, he wanted it to be his. If some asshole was plunging her depths, he wanted to be that asshole. Cowgirl Y/N should only be riding one horse and his lap was the saddle.

After two weeks of unwarranted jealous thoughts and sulking around, Dean had an idea.

One quick Google search later, Dean had a plan.

After four days of waiting for the slow-as-hell local post office to get its act together, Dean was ready to go.

That is, once he got Y/N to go.

Thankfully, Sam had found a case a few hours away and Dean convinced Y/N to take the drive, claiming he was feeling under the weather. He got an extra kiss on the forehead for that, and waved goodbye as headlights faded out of sight.

Dean laid out the materials on his bed. A bag of powder, a plastic tube, a tongue depressor, and a mug of water. The instructions said the water had to be 90 degrees exactly, and he waited until the water was cool enough to touch but still warm. If he was sticking his dick in it, he didn’t want to burn the skin off.

Working quickly, he mixed the powder and water, dumped it rather messily into the tube, and grabbed his dick.

“Come on, Dean. This is for Y/N.”

He closed his eyes and thought about her using his gift; naked and spread wide on the hood of the Impala, his hot pink clone pounding her sweet pussy. He jerked himself a few times, wanting to make sure he was as big as possible, and then stuck it in the goo. A bit of casting spilled over the top but he could clean it up later.

It was warm and wet. Somewhat squishy, and not altogether unpleasant. Humming happily, Dean leaned back against the wall and held himself in the tube, still fantasizing about its future.

Y/N licking it like a lollipop in front of a mirror; spit dripping down her chin…

Y/N on all fours, fucking herself on the toy, moaning his name…

Y/N nudged the dildo gently against his tight ass…

Startled but not disgusted by his subconscious desire, Dean gave himself a little shake to clear his head, and made a note to bring it up with Y/N at some point.

He checked his watch and more than five minutes had passed which was three more than the two stated in the instructions.

“Well, a little more never hurt anyone.”

Except, it did.

Dean carefully pulled on the tube of hardened casting and nothing happened.

He tried again, a little less carefully, and it moved not even an inch.

“Shit.”

Again.

“Fuck.”

He was stuck. More specifically, his now soft, over-sensitive penis was stuck in a tight tube of hardened plaster-like junk.

He tried to fit a finger into the mess, but it was too tight, sealed against his skin.

He thought for a moment about getting a knife from the kitchen and cutting his way out, but it was a very short thought that ended with him terrified to even move lest he cut his precious instrument.

If he called 911, he’d have to explain some things and they might also use something sharp. Calling Y/N would be even worse than being stuck, and he’d rather cut his dick completely off than tell Sam what he was up to.

That left only one option.

Sitting on the side of the bed, Dean grabbed a pillow and held it gingerly over his issue. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Cas? Kinda need your help, buddy.”

He waited a second and then peaked his right eye open, finding the room just as empty as before.

Gritting his teeth, he tried again.

“Cas! Help!”

A whoosh of air and the flap of wings opened Dean’s eyes and he found his best friend standing a foot away.

“Dean. What’s wrong?”

The worry in Castiel’s voice was strong and Dean felt somewhat bad for making him rush over. But then again, his dick was encased in stone.

“Are you hurt?”

Dean clicked his tongue, debating the truthful answer. “Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Cas’s head tilted dramatically to the east. “What’s going on?”

Begrudgingly, Dean removed the pillow from his lap and displayed his nakedness shoved into a long plastic tube.

Blue eyes squinted at the apparatus. ”Dean, what are you doing?”

“It’s a gift,” Dean confessed.

Confusion twisted the angel’s face. “For who?”

“Y/N!”

Castiel nodded in understanding. “Ah. Yes.”

To investigate, Cas bent at the waist and let his gaze zoom in on Dean’s crotchal region. Blood rushed from Dean’s face to dick and back up again. He was embarrassed and scared but it was still kind of hot.

Castiel poked at the tube with a gentle finger and Dean quickly swatted him away.

“What exactly have you done to yourself?”

“It’s a kit to…” Dean’s ease of speech was temporarily stunted. “I’m…” He looked away in an attempt to hide. “I’m making a clone of… well, me.” He cleared his throat. “And I got stuck.”

Cas stood up and nodded, but he still had questions.

“Why do you think Y/N would like something like this?”

“Well, it makes a… toy. A sex toy. For her. It’s a dildo, OK? Ya know, for when I’m away… or not in the mood.”

Another squint, another head tilt.

Dean huffed. “Yeah, OK, I’m always in the mood. But, I don’t know, I thought it would be a nice thing to do. A sexy gift. Thought it would be kinda hot.”

“And is it?”

Dean sighed. “Not currently!”

Sensing the urgency, Castiel knelt down between Dean’s knees and plotted his move. “Why did you call me?” he asked, getting closer than Dean could really handle.

Green eyes rolled in utter annoyance. “Who the hell else was I gonna ask? Sam?”

“Good point.”

“Can you just… Help.”

Castiel took a deep, unnecessary breath and locked eyes with Dean. Slowly, he set his hands on the plastic tube, ready to extract Little Dean.

“Don’t move, Dean. This may be a bit uncomfortable…”

Dean hung back while Y/N kicked off her shoes and tossed her backpack on the desk. She was tired and sore from the road, and more than happy to be home.

“You are lucky you got sick,” she told him, peeling off a sock and pitching it into the laundry basket by the door. “I have never seen so much ectoplasm in my life. And it stunk.”

Dean watched her from the door, his shoulder holding up the entire wall. “Oh yeah? Eggs or asparagus?”

She laughed and cringed at the same time. “Worse. Horse. Like, end of the parade, rainy, horse shit.”

Their eyes met and Dean licked his lips unconsciously. “I missed you.”

She beamed. “Me too.”

She held out her arms for him to join her on the bed, but he stayed put and nodded at the pillow.

“Gotcha something.”

“Oh?” Y/N held onto a smile with her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she turned to find a happy birthday gift bag lying on her pillow. The handles were tied together and price tag sticker residue smudged the bright blue outside. She laughed. “It’s not my birthday.”

Dean moved inside the room. “Yeah, well, they don’t exactly make gift bags for this.”

Curious, Y/N plucked apart the knot and looked inside at her gift. Her jaw dropped. Her eyes went wide.

“Is that?”

Dean held his breath. “Take it out.”

Y/N’s cheeks burned as she pulled a hot pink silicone cock from the bag. “This is… nice…” She held it in a light fist and marveled at how familiar it was. “This is…” She squinted at the top, traced the underridge with her thumb. “Holy shit, Dean! This is you!”

Proud, and rather impressed that she recognised his dick so easily, Dean grinned. “You like?”

Her smile was worth all the pain.

“I love it.”

Dean bent to kiss her softly. “I’m glad.”

“Also…”

He stood up, worried. “Also?”

Placing the replica staff gently on the bed, Y/N went to her backpack and pulled out a plain white box.

“I didn’t have time to wrap it,” she joked, handing him the present.

Carefully, Dean lifted the lid and nearly fell over.

Tucked inside was a silky smooth pink rose with a rather familiar petal formation. Stunned, he looked up at Y/N as he pulled the toy from the box.

“Is this your-”

“Kitty?” She laughed. “Yes.”

Dean let out a laugh that shook his shoulders and brought tears to his eyes. “Great minds, huh?”

Y/N nodded and then rolled her eyes as Dean shoved two fingers into the silicone hole and giggled.

“I’m glad you like it.”

His arms fit around her more perfectly than either would find again. She kissed him sweetly and he retaliated with more, licking into her mouth with hunger and intent.

When he let her go, Y/N hopped on the bed and picked up her toy, examining it closer.

“I do have to admit,” she said, sniffing the cock absently, “I had a little trouble making it.”

Dean joined her, stretching out on his side of the bed while still fingering her petals. “Really? So did I.”

“Not like this.” She laughed and hid her face in her hands. “I kinda… I had to ask for some help.”

Dean sat up quickly and turned to her. “Please tell me you didn’t call Cas.”

She cringed. “Well, who the hell else was I supposed to ask? Sam?” Embarrassment closed her eyes as she explained. “I was… It was making a mess and it was getting all up in… I just… I was kinda praying. Well, cursing loudly, and he popped in and…”

Dean’s silence caught her attention and she opened her eyes to find him red-faced and guilty.

“Wait.” She leaned in, peering into his eyes for a confession. “Did you call Cas?”

He squirmed and shrugged.

“Oh my god, you did!”

Dean laughed. “Like I said… great minds.”

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#dean x reader #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #jacklesversebingo25 #crack fic

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francisofthespook · 7 months ago

Text

Closer

Oneshot

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: After a long journey, you and the group have finally settled down at Alexandria. You decide to throw a little party after you found a Nine Inch Nails CD while on a run. You spend most of the party waiting for your favorite archer to arrive. By the time he does, your favorite song is playing...

Setting: Alexandria, pre-saviors

Warnings: Suggestive content/Drinking/Descriptions of being drunk/I don't really know what to put here I've never done warnings before so if I'm missing something please let me know !

Word count: 4,433

Author's Note: Hi ok so this is the first time I've written like this in literally so long, the last time I remember writing fanfic or oneshots was when I was deep in the 1D fandom in like 2013 and it was dogshit. So please be patient with me while I figure this out again. If there are any errors or I do anything wrong, kindly let me know and I will fix it. I love you all, I have been inspired by so many of you great writers on here and it has renewed my love for writing <3 (especially you @thevegandarkelf <333)

(ps divider and gif made by me:) )

((pps if the gif or dividers act weird lmk because I've never made them before))

OK HERE IT IS !!

Parties. If someone were to ask you what you missed the most since the dead started rising, you would say parties. (Or maybe your Juul, but there were good enough replacements for that…) You had been in your first year of college when the fall happened, far from your family and in a city you didn’t know that well. But you were lucky enough to have been out of the inner city when things started to fall apart. Even though you had a good distance between you and downtown, you were still not shielded from the chaos that ensued when the dead began attacking. You had been out working on an assignment for your environmental studies class by a quarry when the cell towers went down. Since you had most of your stuff on you, you decided to stay put until you got reception again. (ha.)

It wasn't too long after, that a small group began forming at the quarry. And there, you met your new family. It hadn’t been easy, far far from it actually, but you guys survived. You took it day by day, but you survived. You weren't particularly skilled in survival, but your group was, and you had picked up little things along the way that crafted you into the person you were now.

Your group had set up several camps along the way, but none of them lasted long enough to get too comfortable. So when you finally landed at Alexandria, the hesitancy was looming for a while. For the first few days, everyone slept in one house, despite being offered each a place of your own. To be honest, you loved sharing a house with everyone. Not just because of the safety it made you feel, but also because it just meant getting to stay close to a certain archer that you had grown fond of.

Daryl was… hard to read. He was quiet and stoic most of the time, but around you he got a little softer. You knew he liked you, but you weren't sure if he like liked you, like you did. But in fear of ruining the friendship you had worked so hard to build, you kept quiet and substituted flirting with friendly gestures. Letting him know that you cared, but not that you cared cared. Sure, there had been many times when it felt like all the cues were lined up and you could just lean over and kiss him, but you knew him well enough to know that even if he maybe felt the same way, his emotions would overwhelm him and he would probably run. So you played it safe. A good rule of thumb, especially in this world.

However, after a while, your group slowly started to let their guard down. They accepted that Alexandria could be what you all had been looking for. You started to get just a little bit comfortable. You could tell this shift in the group's demeanor frustrated Daryl. He wouldn't allow himself to let his guard down and he thought you all were mad for beginning to trust this place given your past experiences. But you didn't care, you were just relieved to finally be able to get a good night's sleep without having to worry about the dead stumbling upon you while you weren't conscious.

When Deanna threw the first party, you were sold. It was a quaint gathering of everyone in the community, nothing like the ragers you knew from high school and college, but it gave you hope. Hope that there was still a chance to get back to where you were, or at least close to it. You had begun to feel less and less human every day that you were on the road. But being here with a drink in your hand and a skirt on for the first time in god knows how long, you started to feel human again.

When you found the CD on the run, Daryl had scoffed and told you to put it back. “There's nothing wrong with bringing back something fun” you had told him. “Yeah well fun's not gonna keep us alive now ain't it?” he replied. Maybe he hadn't meant for it to sound so harsh, but it hurt just a bit. You had frowned and looked down at your shoes, feeling deflated with guilt. “I know we need to survive, but we also need to still feel like humans.” you sighed and looked back up at him. At seeing your expression, his own softened. “When we were out there on the road, I forgot what that felt like. It may just be a stupid CD, but it reminds me what we're fighting for.” He didn't say anything after that. Just gave you a small smile, a nod, and squeezed your shoulder while he walked past you to continue gathering items from the shelves.

You had been planning it for weeks, and it had finally come to fruition. You invited everyone from your group and some of the Alexandrians that you had gotten to know over the past few weeks. It definitely wasn’t a frat party like the ones you used to know, but it was close enough. The CD you had found a while back was blaring through the house as you filled up another cup of your DIY ‘jungle juice’. Admittedly, Nine Inch Nails were never your favorite band, but you remember how their album ‘The Downward Spiral’ used to spin on your record player while you absentmindedly did chores around your college apartment. Human, you remember how it made you feel human. Though you obviously never acknowledged that feeling at the time.

It was definitely funny to see everyone's reaction to the music when you had put the CD in the player. For some reason, the group had formed a collective opinion of what you were like before the fall that did not include ‘listens to rock’. But like the others, being given a safe place to stay allowed your true personality to shine through as the stability and comfortability grew, bringing you one step closer to the girl you used to be. As the drinks kept flowing, the attendees became more agreeable to the music. (Plus it was the only CD you had, so it would have to work whether they liked it or not.)

The party went on, and you found yourself discreetly scanning the crowd for your favorite archer, but were disappointed when you were met with his absence. Of course, you knew that something like this was extremely out of his wheelhouse, but still, you were sad to see he had yet to show up.

“So, don't feel like you have to… but I’m having a party this weekend, and I would really like it if you came.” You turned your head to look at him and gauge his reaction. “A party?” He scoffed and looked back down at the squirrel he was gutting on your porch steps. “Dun think that's really my scene." He grunted. "Plus, got more important things t’do.” You looked back out at the street in front of you and nodded your head. Trying to hide your disappointment and biting your lip. “I figured.” You replied. “But still,” You looked back at him again, “it would mean a lot to me if you came.” You gave him a small smile when he met your eyes. His expression softened, like it often did when he looked at you. An annoying habit he couldn't seem to shake off. He would never admit it, but he had grown an achingly large soft spot for you over the years, you were his reason to keep going, keep fighting, you were his Achilles heel.

He had a hard time understanding his feelings towards you. He knew he liked you, you were his friend. But if he had only ever acknowledged you as a friend, then why did his heart speed up just a bit when you looked into his eyes? Why did he feel a fluttering in his stomach when you gave him a big toothy grin after finally catching a deer you had been tracking? Why did his shoulder feel like it had been brushed by a flame whenever he shouldered past you? He didn't want to think about it. Stuff like that didn't matter given the state of the world. Or did it?

“I'll see if I can make it” He finally mumbled. Not wanting to let you know that you had won him over, or the effect that you had on him. “Really?!” you squealed, your eyebrows shooting up your forehead and a huge smile on your face. “Dun push it.” He grumbled as he shifted his focus back to the squirrel. But as he turned his head, he made sure his hair fell in front of his face to hide the small smile that was forcing its way out. “Okay! I'll see you Friday then.” you beamed as you got up, using his shoulder to help yourself stand. There was that fire again.

As ‘March of the Pigs’ began playing, you had given up on waiting for him. Throwing back another shot of whatever you could find in front of you and swaying to the music as you re-entered the dancing crowd. It was a little silly to see everyone acting so loosely, never in a million years would you have guessed that the Rick Grimes could actually somewhat dance, it was amusing nonetheless. You made your way towards him and Glenn on the makeshift dancefloor and started moving along with them.

“This is the best party I’ve been to in years!” Glenn shouted to you over the music. Rick chuckled and took another sip from his cup before pointing out, “It's the only party you’ve been to in years” You laughed and threw your head back, the alcohol making everything funnier than it should be. You reached for Rick's shoulder to steady yourself as your laughing died down. You felt warm and tingly, your head light, your smile so big it was making your cheeks sore. You felt human. Your expression shifted as you watched the two boys focus on the front door closing. You turned your head to see what they were looking at, but the alcohol made you dizzy from your movements and you further leaned into Rick for support, your drink sloshing in your cup as you spun. “What?” you slurred to them. Rick locked eyes with you again. “Daryl’s here.”

A sobering shot of butterflies ran through you and you tried to hide your excitement before Rick and Glenn could see it, but it was too late. “Told you it was Daryl, man! You owe me five bucks.” Glenn laughed and pointed to Rick. “Okay, okay,” Rick chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “When the war on the dead is over and society goes back to normal, I will be sure to give you five dollars.” He replied as he rolled his eyes. You looked between the two of them, “Five doll- what? What are you talking about?” You sputtered out. Glenn put his hand on your shoulder and leaned down close to you while whispering as quietly as he could given the state of the music, “It was just a little bit obvious that you were waiting for someone to show up” he said, holding up his fingers in a pinching motion.

Your eyes grew wide with surprise and a little embarrassment as he pulled away. “What?! No, I was not! What’re you talking about?!” Glenn straightened back up and gave you a smirk. “You're not as discrete as you think you are” You felt the already present heat in your cheeks grow even hotter. “I was betting on it being Spencer but I guess I was wrong.” Rick shrugged and you looked at him in horror. “What? Spencer?! God no!” “So you were waiting for Daryl then, right?” You looked back at Glenn, shooting him a warning look. He held his hands up in surrender “Hey man, I'm just calling it as I see it. Not my fault you've had a blaring crush on him since the farm.” You covered your face with your forearm in embarrassment and the movement made a droplet of your drink fall to the ground. “Oh my god, is it really that obvious?” You dragged your arm down your face before looking back up at the two. They looked at each other before focusing back on you and giving small, smug nods.

“But hey, look on the bright side. One, I don't think he's noticed. And two, it's obvious he feels the same way.” Rick gave you a sly grin and a pat on the back. You removed your hand from his shoulder and shook your head. “You guys are making me so self-conscious now” You chuckled to yourself before hiding your face again. Glenn gave you a reassuring smile and said, “Go, talk to him. He obviously came because you asked him to. If it were anyone else he would have walked away before they could get the full invite out.”

You groaned and took a deep breath before addressing the boys again. “Okay, fine. But when it's made obvious that he does not like me, and just came out of pity, then you both owe me five dollars.” You pointed your finger at them and they laughed before nodding and giving you a thumbs up as you backed away and chugged the rest of your drink.

You approached Daryl as your favorite Nine Inch Nails song started playing. The swirling bassline of ‘Closer’ making you feel light in the head again. Or was it the sight of him standing there, basking in the soft glow of the lamp from the entry hall? He looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight between his feet and looking around like he didn't know where to stand. You grabbed another cup from the table as you walked past it and towards him. Trying to play it cool, you sauntered up to him until you were standing right in front of him. You were close, definitely too close, but the alcohol had messed up your depth perception and you totally didn't mean to land that close to him. Yeah, definitely the alcohol…

“Well hello stranger, didn't expect to see you here” You sung out as you handed him the cup. Was that too much? Oh god, that was too much. Gotta take it down a notch. You looked down and shuffled backward a bit so you weren't encroaching on his personal space. His discomfort seemed to dissolve as he looked at you. His shoulders visibly relaxing a bit and a small grin spread on his face. “I told ya I'd come.” He replied, stifling a small laugh. “You told me you'll see if you can make it, which is ‘Daryl code’ for ‘I definitely won't be there but I don't want to tell you no to your face’ ” You pointed towards him but you miscalculated the distance again and landed your finger in the middle of his chest. Yeah, totally the alcohol, definitely not the magnetizing pull you feel toward him every time you are in the same room. Whatever.

You worried for a split second that your poor attempt at flirting had come across as an insult, but were quickly relieved at the sound of his small laugh once again. God, that laugh made you feel like you had drank all the liquor in this house. It made you feel buzzy and your whole body shuddered at the feeling. “If it were anyone else yeah, but I'd never stand ya up.” You made eye contact with him as he smiled at you and suddenly the room was empty, and it was just you two staring into each other's souls.

Nothing else around you registered in your mind as you stared into his blue eyes and drowned out all the background noise. You leaned closer and muttered as sultry as you could, “Well I guess I must be pretty important then, huh?” You tried, but it came out with a hint of a slur. Maybe it was the drink he had begun sipping on, or maybe the fact that the music was loud enough that no one could hear him, or maybe it was because everyone else was already tipsy enough that they were paying you no attention, but a small wave of confidence visibly came over him as he leaned into your ear and whispered, “I guess you could say that.” He lingered by your ear for a minute before pulling back and locking eyes with you again.

You weren't sure how to react. Your body felt like it was on fire, the root of it at your ear where he had just been, still feeling the breath of his words like a ghost against your head. You tried to play it cool. You stepped back while outstretching your hand to him, “Come dance with me, this is my favorite song.” You flashed him a smile and he scoffed and took another sip of his drink. “I dun dance.” He shook his head. “Maybe not in general, but tonight you do.” You tried to counter, but he just shook his head again while smiling. “Ya go on and dance to yer song. I'll be here when yer done.” You rolled your eyes but started to move back towards an even tipsier Glenn and Rick.

You let me violate you

You let me desecrate you

“Who is this again?” Rick asked as you approached them. “Nine Inch Nails.” You replied, taking a sip from the new cup you had grabbed on your way back over. “Pretty raunchy, not somethin’ I would’ve listened to.” He responded. “Well judging by the way you've been dancing I wouldn't say you hate it.” You scoffed. “So? How’d it go?” Glenn cut in. “Mmm” you bit your lip, unsure if you should confide in them the heated moment you just experienced.

You let me penetrate you

You let me complicate you

“He said he wouldn't have come if it were anyone else's party. So I guess that's a good thing…” You said, sounding unsure of yourself. You didn't want to overthink anything, you were worried that you were just making up his attraction to you in your head. You were trying to save yourself from the embarrassment if it did end up being something you misread. “Good thing? That's a great thing!” Glenn countered. “Is he not coming over?” He questioned, looking around to see Daryl still leaning against the wall by the front door, sipping on his drink. “Nah, I told him to come dance with me, this is my favorite song on this album, but he told me to go dance and he would be there when I came back.” You replied, trying not to sound too disappointed.

(Help me) I broke apart my insides

(Help me) I’ve got no soul to sell

“Well then let him be a party pooper. We’ll dance with you.” Rick gave you a smile as the three of you continued to sip on your drinks while swaying to the music. You glanced over your shoulder briefly to check on Daryl and found him staring directly at you. He looked almost… jealous? Well if he was, then it was his own fault for staying over there instead of coming to dance with you. But why would he be jealous? You were suddenly struck with a devious idea that sober you would never have executed. You started singing along to the lyrics, you knew what was coming next, and your stroke of boldness had taken over your brain. You angled your body and turned your head back towards Daryl, trying to make it look as natural and inconspicuous as possible, and began mouthing the lyrics at him.

Help me, the only thing that works for me

If you weren't sure before, you were sure now. As you began mouthing the lyrics while dancing closely to Rick and Glenn, Daryl's stare became more intense, more purposeful. He was jealous. You took that as an advantage and shifted your attention back to the two boys in front of you. This time you threw your head back at an angle while mouthing the next line, trying desperately to get Daryl to see you, but also trying to make sure it didn't look like you were doing it on purpose.

Help me get away from myself

As the line rang through the small house, you made a split decision to make a bold move. As you sang the next line out, you turned your head once again and looked him directly in the eyes. His were already locked onto yours, and you stared him down as you sang,

I wanna fuck you like an animal

You swayed and moved your hips to the beat, the skirt you were wearing rising up ever so slightly over your thighs as you did a subtle squat as you swayed. You looked back toward your dancing buddies again, hoping they hadn't noticed what you were doing, but they were oblivious. In their own little words dancing along to the music and the flow of liquor through their veins.

I wanna feel you from the inside

The music continued to bounce through the air, the room had become hot and humid, adding to the tension you felt towards Daryl. A small bead of sweat rolled down your back as you continued moving your hips to the beat.

I wanna fuck you like an animal

You felt a sudden ignition of a flame against your hips as two large hands began to sneak around them from behind. For just a second, you froze in fear, before your nose picked up the all too familiar notes of him, this time with a hint of liquor. You didn't look back, you didn't acknowledge him, you just kept dancing. Ever so slightly grinding up against him as he stood stiff behind you. Rick and Glenn, still oblivious to what was going down right in front of them.

My whole existence is flawed

You ran your hands up through your hair, your cup had been lost at some point but that was beyond your thought parameters right now. You slowly arched your head backward and leaned into him. Almost by instinct, like some primal urge that existed within him and had been lying dormant for years, he leaned his head down into your neck and breathed you in. You slightly craned your neck to the side to make space for him. A combustion of nerves spread like wildfire throughout your entire body. The space on your neck where his breath was hitting felt white hot, numb, and electric all at the same time. You felt like you were being born again, it took everything in you not to let out a small moan right there. The overwhelming feeling of him being on you took over and as the next line played out, you angled your head up just enough so that your mouth was at his ear and whispered to him the next line,

You get me closer to god

He grunted and pulled you closer into him. Bringing your arms down from holding your hair up, you placed them over his hands that were gripping your hips. His breathing was a constant flow against your neck as you continued to subtly dance up against him, causing droplets of condensation form on your skin. The whole room was spinning now, but not from the alcohol. No, his touch had sobered you up from that, but now you were drunk off him. You spun around to face him and put your arms around his neck as he adjusted to wrap his around your waist.

“Hi,” you whispered with a sickening grin on your face, eyes locked directly into his and your faces so close, your noses almost brushed against each other's. “Hey,” He whispered back, obviously fighting off a grin. “So you do dance then?” You challenged, hoping that you wouldn't scare him off by being a little more direct. “I guess for ya I do” He murmured. You took this a green light to push a little further. Looking off to the side while you feigned innocence you said, “Well I wonder what else you can do for me that you wouldn't do for anyone else…” That was it. That was as far as you could push it, you had thrown the ball into his court and it was his turn now to take the reins and show it, if he did have any interest in you that is.

He was taken aback a bit by your remark, but he quickly shook off the surprise. He looked into your eyes, searching for the sign that you wanted this as badly as he did. He thought he saw it, but he wasn't sure if he was just blinded by his own attraction and deflecting it onto you. But in the millisecond that his mind ran through all the possibilities of disaster that could come from misinterpreting your interactions, he decided to take a chance. He bit his lip before he slowly leaned into you yet again, brought his lips to your ear, and whispered, “I can show ya if ya want.”

Your veins filled with ice, your heart stopped beating, the butterflies in your stomach turned into wasps, buzzing around rapidly and stinging your insides with desire. He pulled back and looked at you. As hard as you tried, you couldn't close your mouth as it hung slightly agape. He did feel the same way. He did want you as badly as you wanted him. Your mouth formed into a smile with your eyes half-lidded, weighted down from the lust you felt towards him. “Okay,” you spoke, barely audible.

Moving your hands down to his, you wrapped your small ones around his large ones and pulled them off of your hips. You slowly turned around, looking back at Glenn and Rick one more time before you began, as discreetly as possible, pulling Daryl towards the stairs that lead up to your room. He froze for a second, and you looked back at him. He hadn't really meant ‘right now’ when he said that, but he was filled with butterflies as he accepted that you definitely meant ‘right now’ and he let you pull him behind you and up the stairs.

When you reached the last step, you glanced out at the partygoers, making sure that everyone was occupied and hopefully wouldn't notice your and Daryl’s absence for a little bit. As you scanned the crowd you locked eyes with Rick and Glenn who were holding back smug looks. You threw them a middle finger before taking the last step and guiding Daryl into your room, closing and locking the door behind you. Hopefully, the music was loud enough that no one would hear you…

okay there it is, plus the song that inspired it ! pls be nice :)

#daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon one shot #daryl x reader #Spotify

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astrallytadpoled · 7 months ago

Text

Companion Underwear Tier List

Do you know how hard it was to put this together? Did I at any point think I'd be sitting here overthinking underpants? No. Never. I hope all my teachers are proud of me!

Underwear was assessed based on FOUR criteria: sex appeal, description, bulge/clam protection, and bondage appeal.

Are you ready for the break down? Of course you are.

More under the cut!

First up, Lae'zel.

Sex appeal: That is quite the sexy underwear. It being leather means everything is swampy down there, though. BUT that would be a perk for some of you heathens. 9/10 Description: Built for function rather than fun. What? Have you SEEN that thing? Imagine the wedgies you get trying to fight in it! 6/10 Bulge/clam protection: It covers the most important bits, and it's leather, but enough is uncovered that a direct groin hit would hurt 6/10 Bondage Appeal: Leather? Straps? Tie me up, mommy. 10/10 FINAL SCORE: 31/40, or 78% or C

Shadowheart:

Sex appeal: They're a nicely made matching set of underwear 8/10 Description: If pants could brood… Absolutely fucking hilarious 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Material seems weak, and it doesn't provide good coverage 6/10 Bondage appeal: Pretty generic mildly sexy underwear with a bit of an edge. 7/10 FINAL SCORE: 31/50 or 77% or C

Astarion:

Sex appeal: It's Astarion I'd be eaten alive if I don't give this a 10/10 Description: Embroidered into the cloth: 'If you're reading this, you managed to bed or behead me. Either way, you got lucky.' Made me laugh out loud irl, so 10/10. Bonus 5 points since he embroidered them himself (effort wins points from me ok) Bulge/clam protection: Look it's cloth. No protection there. And it shows his butt wrinkles (+2 for butt wrinkles) 6/10 Bondage appeal: Generic tighty-not-whities do with them what you will. 6/10 FINAL SCORE: 37/40 or 92% or A

Gale:

Sex appeal: Sorry, Gale. That waist. 7/10 Description: Energy crackles around these. Gale wouldn't… Surely he didn't enchant his… Description? Funny. 10/10. But one has to wonder what sort of enchantment he went for. Prestidigitation? Or some sort of temperature control? A smart man would go for prestidigitation. Extra 7 points for the enchantment. Bulge/clam protection: It's cloth, but he's got good coverage going AND they're magic9/10 Bondage appeal: Who likes shorts? Are shorts bondage-able? 3/10 FINAL SCORE: 36/40 or 90% or A

Wyll

Sex appeal: Bonus for cut, but I gotta ding you for the drawstring. Sorry, Wyll. 6/10 Description: Long may these gird the Blade of Frontiers. Yes, yes, we know. You're the Blade of Frontiers. Makes it sound they're his only pair of underpants, too! 5/10 Bulge/clam protection: It's cloth. Do you think Mizora protects his bulge in any way? I doubt it. 3/10 Bondage appeal: They're white underpants. 2/10 FINAL SCORE: 16/40 or 40% or D

Karlach

Sex appeal: It's Karlach, she's by default hot. Look at the cut! The straps! 9/10 Description: How do these not burn off? THAT IS A GOOD QUESTION, GAME, and now I'm wondering too. 9/10 Bulge/clam protection: Coverage is not that great BUT, they can take the heat. They should probably grant some sort of fire immunity or something. Larian, fix this. 8/10 Bondage appeal: They look pretty bondage-y, but also Mama K. 7/10 FINAL SCORE: 33/40 or 82% or B

Halsin

Sex appeal: To be honest it looks like he's wearing something a size too small, Halsin, hun, give your crotch room to breathe. 6/10 Description: Why does it smell like a herb garden? So at least we know he keeps it clean? Unless HE smells like a herb garden… have you considered that? 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Keeping everything close and tight to minimize damage. Genius. 9/10 Bondage appeal: They can be worked into bondage easily. Halsin provides the vines. 10/10 FINAL SCORE: 35/40 or 87% or B

Jaheira

Sex appeal: The mesh-y vest-y look on the bra, hello? 9/10 Description: Embroidered with little ducks. ….WAIT A MINUTE is that why Halsin likes ducks?! 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Not very protective, but she goes cougar mode anyway (yes I know it's a panther, I just need that joke in there) 8/10 Bondage appeal: They can be worked into bondage easily. But she's got to be in charge. 9/10 FINAL SCORE: 36/40 or 90% or A

Minsc

Sex appeal: It is Minsc 10/10 Description: Tight, aerodynamic, and built for maximum breathability. Humidity is no friend to hamsters. MINSC PLEASE DO NOT PUT HAMSTERS IN YOUR UNDERPANTS. THINK OF LEMMIWINKS 1/10 Bulge/clam protection: No protection, the hamster is a liability 2/10 Bondage appeal: Lemmiwinks 1/10 FINAL SCORE: 14/40 or 35% or F

Minthara

Sex appeal: It is Minthara 15/10 Description: Woven with as much toughened cobweb as cloth. It is an evocative mental image 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Spidersilk stronk, but coverage could be better 7/10 Bondage appeal: It is Minthara 10/10 FINAL SCORE: 42/40 or 105% or S

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flightlessangelwings · 1 year ago

Text

A Perfect Day

Din Djarin x gn!reader

Word count-1.5k

Warnings- none really just a little fluff piece, some pining, feelings, found family, Gorgu being the cutest, reader is from a desert planet, no pronouns or physical description of reader, no use of y/n

Notes- Written for @pedgito Summer Lovin challenge! Thanks so much for adding the extra slots the one I got is so adorable!! Moodboard is the prompt and I love it so much! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

Dew from the air clung to your skin in a way you weren’t used to. Leaves crunched under every step you took as the rainforest engulfed all your senses on the hot mid summer day. It was strange for you- an environment you had never seen before. But a presence to your side helped keep you calm even as every muscle in your body tensed.

Din noticed the way you held yourself stiffly from the moment you all stepped off the ship onto this new planet. You were a recent addition to his little group of two, but he quickly learned your mannerisms.

“You alright?” Din asked in a hushed tone as Grogu cooed happily in his arms. At least one of you were comfortable on this planet.

“Fine,” your reply was short as you kept your guard up. Drops of water all around you were strange and every sound from the distance made your skin tingle. Feeling Din’s gaze fixed on you, you turned to meet his vizor, “Fine,” you repeated in a softer tone this time, “It’s just…” you sighed, “This is all new to me. It’s… odd,” you settled on that word after struggling to come up with a way to voice how you felt.

Grugu let out a questioning sound as he tilted his head to the side a bit.

“You’re ok,” Din said as he looked down at the little green child in his arms, “The kid’s happy so that should ease you,” he tried to comfort you with his words as he fought the urge to reach out to you.

At that, you smiled, “You’re right.”

The way the drop of lingering rain clung to your skin made Din’s heart pound in his chest. You looked so beautiful like that, and once you visibly relaxed, you looked even more so. Much like when he found the child, Din felt an instant connection to you from the moment you met. And there was something about you that made him want to protect you and keep you safe, just like with Grogu. Though he knew you were capable of handling yourself, and had proven so by helping him keep Grogu safe when you met on the desert planet you called home.

You and Din continued to walk through the forest in a now comfortable silence as Grogu babbled in Din’s arms. The three of you were led here on a bounty chase, but as you made your way through the forest, it seemed like it was all going to be for nothing.

Until the ruins of an old building came into view.

Gorgu cooed with excitement and leapt out of Din’s arms to run right for the building.

“Hey!” you both exclaimed at the same time as you and Din ran after him.

“Come back here,” Din shouted.

“We don’t know if it’s safe, kid,” you added.

The child made it to the abandoned building before you and Din did. But, once you both caught up, you relaxed again as you noticed it was empty. And it had been for some time.

“What is this place?” you asked, breathless.

Din scanned around, noting the open ceiling and the marble that lined the walls, “I’m not sure,” he replied as he looked around.

Inspecting his surroundings further, Din noticed that pedestals lined the walls. Some had statues that were overgrown with moss while others were bare. Obviously, no one had been here in some time, but this was important at one point.

“This looks like it was a museum,” Din commented.

“A museum?”

He nodded, “To the history of this planet, and the people in it,” he inspected one of the statues.

You hummed as you looked around and allowed the awe to fill you. Suddenly, the lingering drops of rain were a comfort as you inhaled deeply. You saw statues of little creatures that once had lived on this planet, and you smiled brightly when you saw one that you found particularly cute. Pushing a button to activate an old holo, you squinted to piece together the scattered bits of information that tried to display in front of you. But, it was all too old to get a full picture, so you had to make do with the small parts that did come through.

“This place is incredible,” you breathed as your shoulders dropped and you finally let yourself completely be at ease.

“It is,” Din murmured as his eyes never left your figure.

Feeling his gaze on you once more, you turned and met his vizor. Even as the warmth of the environment surrounded you, a chill ran up your spine as your heart fluttered in your chest. You knew what it meant when he looked at you like that, with his head tilted slightly and his body relaxed. Just as Din quickly learned how to read you, you learned what his body language meant, and it made your hands tremble slightly.

But, before either of you could say anything, a happy coo broke the tension between the two of you.

“Grogu,” you snickered as you and Din moved down the corridor to find the child with a little frog statue.

Din let out a single amused laugh as he shifted his weight to one leg, “He really likes frogs, doesn’t he?”

“He does,” you agreed in amusement.

A newfound warmth enveloped you; it wasn’t a warmth from the outside, but from within you. Being here with Din and Grogu felt comforting to you, like you were a little family together out for a trip to the museum to learn about times past. Taking a deep breath, you imagined what this building would have been like in its prime. Pristine stone walls surrounded you in your mind, and the displays were proudly on their pedestals. The sun shone in from the glass ceiling to illuminate the space.

And you were here. With Din and Grogu. And everything just felt right.

Your name in Din’s hushed tone broke you out of your imagination and you turned to face him with a short gasp. “Everything alright?” he asked, noticing you seemed to drift away for several moments.

A bright smile lit up your face as you closed the space between your bodies, “Just perfect,” you whispered. Tentatively, you reached out for him, your hand hovering over his helmet.

You waited for Din to push you away, or to ask what you were doing. When he did neither, you slowly lowered your hand to cup the side of his helmet where his cheek would be. Both you and Din let out a sharp breath, as if you both could feel the contact directly instead of on beskar. Your eyes scanned the darkness of his vizor, and you swore you could feel his own gaze back on you, studying you just as hard as you studied him.

“Thanks for bringing us here,” you broke the silence with a soft and sincere voice.

Din let out a breath as he mirrored your action. He didn’t say anything as he cupped the side of your face, cradling your head tenderly. Through the gloves, he felt the warmth of your skin, and he couldn’t help but stroke your skin with his thumb in the tiniest gesture of affection. Gently, Din guided your head forward so that it was closer to his as he leaned in towards you. Touching your forehead to his helmeted one, he loosened his grip on you while keeping his hand on your face. You rested your free hand on his chest as you closed your eyes and let out a deep breath, savoring his embrace as the cool beskar of his helmet pressed against your skin.

Now the moment was perfect.

“Din…” you breathed his name with a smile on your face as you broke away to meet his gaze. You wanted to say more, yet the words failed you. Yet, you both know they weren’t needed.

“I know,” he replied in the same tone that made your heart flutter.

Just then, an inquisitive coo and a tug at his boots broke the moment. You and Din broke contact with a start as Grogu whined to be picked up.

With a short laugh, Din reached down, “I got you, bud,” he said as he lifted the child into his arms and faced him to you.

“Hey buddy,” you giggled as you playfully nudged his little cheek, “You enjoying this place too?”

Grogu replied with a happy coo, which made both you and Din chuckle softly.

“Shall we head back?” Din offered.

“Yeah,” you replied, “I think he’s ready for something to eat.”

“Let’s go then,” Din opened his arm to invite you closer to him. As you shuffled closer so he could feel the warmth of your body against his, Din couldn’t help but feel that this truly was the perfect day. He felt his own heart pound in his chest as the two most important people in the entire galaxy were tucked safely away in his embrace and he made a note to himself to find more serene spaces just like this on every planet you visited.

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conron · 1 month ago

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shared burns chap. 1

description: Universe with soulmates! you have one and Wolf has one too. Too bad you have the soulmate tie that makes you keep getting all of his fucking scars. you’re sick of it. Too bad that he doesn’t realize he even has a soulmate.

tags: angst, just for a bit, i mixed the k drama with manhwa, but he has purple hair so do what you will with that, first meeting, wolf is a POS, reader looks like a delinquent, kind reader, my humor slipped out my bad, female reader!, bullying, SOULMATESSSS❤️❤️❤️, ok enjoy now that i fixed this ugly ass description.

…..

When she was a child, she was surrounded by adults who taught her the many fairy tales about Soulmates. Each person had their own tie to a person, who was destined to be their forever partner. Sometimes there were more than 1 partner to a person, but not very often. Then sometimes people would die without ever meeting their soulmate.

It was fate and there was nothing anyone could do.

There was always that knowing look in the elder's eyes when one’s soulmate tie would come in. It happened around the age of 5 years old, kids in kindergarten bounced around waiting for their soulmate tie to change their body.

She was no different. Asking her parents and jumping around and wondering when it would be the day that her soulmate would come to her. Her parents ruffling her hair and smiling as they tell her to be patient.

On one dreadful day, she woke up screaming and sobbing into her parent’s room.

There were bruises and scars muddled all over her face and body. Immediately, her parents tripped her down and tried to give her a bath. Admonishing her as they scrubbed at her body, thinking she got into a fight. But when they tried bandaging her, she didn’t cry or flinch because it hurt. She cried and sobbed at the look of the ugly coloring on her skin.

Because well, they didn’t hurt- not really. It was as if someone had just put makeup on her skin but neither parent could scrub it off. It dawned on them belatedly when they were drying up their daughter.

It’s her soulmate tie.

Her parents looked to each other then back at their daughter, never having been acquainted with this soulmate hint before. The most common soulmate tie was the red string that wrapped and interlocked partners across the world. The second most common one was seeing the world in black and white until you met your soulmate.

It seems their daughter had gained the soulmate hint that shared her soulmate’s wounds but none of the pain that accompanied it.

It was terrifying, waking up at five years old and seeing bruises crawl up your arms to your ears. Their daughter cried all day and night, asking why she looked like this. She was only soothed when days later, the black and blue bruises finally faded and her parents decided it was time to explain to her what it was.

“Honey, you have to know… that these marks are from your soulmate.”

The little girl looked down at the bruises on her arms and legs, on the one that freshly bloomed on her stomach and cocked her head at her parents.

Soulmate?

She didn’t see the way her father looked away or the twitch in her mother’s eye.

“Yeah honey, that's your tie.”

The girl looked down at the bloom of black and blue in her stomach. A smile gracing her chubby and childish face. Her hair sticking to her face on a summer day as she ate her popsicle.

“Really?!”

Eyes closed because of her big smile, her parents watched as she mindlessly forgot about the tears and tantrums she shed the days before because of the spiraling colors on her body. Not questioning how it worked or what this would imply about her soulmate, she beamed. Appeased at just the mention of the word soulmate.

“I hope I get to meet them soon!”

Her parents hide their distaste for her soulmate already, her harmless bruises scattered across her arms and the black eye decorating her eye now. No swelling. No pain. Just a promise of who her soulmate will be.

In another home, a child gets hit by his parent. Yelling that he probably doesn't have a soulmate. That he’s so useless that of course he doesn’t have a soulmate. A boy with dark brunette hair curls up as it is solidified in his mind that there’s no way he has a soulmate; if he did then he’d be saved.

In another home, a boy decides he doesn’t have a soulmate. Never a mark showing up on his skin to save him from the abuse. Never a change in his eyes. Never a new lock of hair.

Never for him.

His parent stops before they sigh and say that they hope whatever widow marries him better be pretty and rich. And the child curls up and goes to sleep.

The girl’s mindset doesn’t waver for a while. Children question her face but shrug it off, childishly showing her their own. And she feels butterflies and giggly over the prospect of meeting her soulmate.

It wasn’t until she grew up, it became achingly obvious how different her soulmate tie was from other people.

She remembers a particular time when she had reached junior high. Her uniform ironed fresh and her shoes shined, her first day. Staring as her classmates show off their soulmate ties, a normal first conversation starter with strangers. She smiles as they show her marks and different colored eyes and hair. One day, going to match with their soulmate.

She loves hearing about other people's soulmate ties. Always making her more excited to meet her own.

Her hair was pulled perfectly for her first day and her soulmate hasn't gotten hurt recently. Silently applauding them in her head, glad they weren’t getting hurt on the first day of school. Until, as she was talking to her classmate, one of them gasped. Pointing to her face and her mouth gaped. The rest of her classmates' eyesight followed the outstretched finger, all of them also gasping and grasping at her shoulder.

“Oh my god, what is happening?!”

“Are you okay?!”

“Your face is turning red!!”

“Girl… are you like dying or something?”

She blinks before pulling out a hand mirror from her bag and stares at herself as her face starts being covered in bruises and scrapes. Blood running down her face as she grins and smiles. Simply wiping her face and it starts being covered in red, as if her face was gonna swell. But it never does.

Turning her head to her classmates, she grins.

“These are my soulmate marks!”

Silence fell among the group, before some of them laugh quietly and look away. Others fidget with their skirts of their uniforms as they stare at her.

“That’s…. your soulmate mark?” A girl with the first words of her soulmate splayed on her wrist asked timidly. Her hand pausing in wiping the blood, she cocked her head at the girl.

“Mhm! they must be really clumsy, y’know?”

More silence falls among the girls. A silence she doesn't really process as she's humming to herself and keeps wiping her face. Oh man, her soulmate must’ve took quite the tumble. The bruises won’t stop! One of her classmates pipes up when a spontaneous nosebleed occurs.

“Your soulmate must not really give a shit about you, hm?”

Dropped jaws ring in the class as she slowly turns her head to the girl, holding a tissue to her nose. Her eyes widened, a purple ring around one of them. Her lips pursed before she forces a smile. Don’t want to make a bad impression on her first day.

“Huh?”

The girl with two different colored eyes sits in the desk in front of her. Twisting her body as she looks at her with heterochromia eyes. A smile on her face, her lip gloss shining under the classroom lights.

“Well, your soulmate gets in fights like everyday right? He probably doesn't give a shit about you.”

Her hands start shaking as she shoves the tissues in her bag, her nose’s bleeding has stopped. Her lip trembles but she keeps her smile pleasant. It never occurred to her that her soulmate was getting in fights. But it’s her soulmate right? They must have a good reason.

And this girl doesn’t know anything about them! Who’s to say they get in fights everyday, she doesn’t remember saying that it was everyday.

(It was everyday.)

“I don't think that's true! Maybe they just don't know our tie! I'm super tough so I never get hurt.”

A grin spreads across the girl with heterochromia before it's suppressed and settles in a kind smile.

“Aw. you're so positive.” Mismatching hues examined her as they curled into a cheshire grin, voice mocking to everyone except her.

A nod comes to the girl with red blooming over her face as she smiles brightly at the girl. Seemingly not realizing the way everyone else has taken a step back from her.

Isolated.

Because of her soulmate marks.

The rest of Middle School was full of hair pulling and tugging at her limbs, strong enough to leave bruises. Nails digging into her skin as she sobs and cries. Laughing as they tell her that they’re doing her a favor, that maybe if they keep doing this then her soulmate just might realize he has one.

Then they’d pick her head up from the ground by her hair and laugh. Asking why her soulmate would like her anyway. He’s probably a delinquent, he’d never like a bullied girl. Cackling as they leave her there on the bathroom floor.

They probably didn’t like how she’d try to croak out that they shouldn’t be calling her soulmate a him. That they’re disrespecting her soulmate by deciding that it’s him. Not liking how she’d clutch to her uniform and take their torment because she believes in her soulmate. That even someone like her could still be allowed to have one.

Trying to tell anyone was useless.

Everyone knew her soulmate got into fights, her face was almost always marred with bruises and when it wasn’t, it would be. So bruises and cuts were overlooked.

Makeup didn’t help, the bruises always bled through the makeup no matter how much she put on. Always a reminder. Always lingering.

Her parents brushed her wounds aside, classmates too scared to be targeted did nothing, and teachers who had a glazed over look in their eyes didn’t care.

She prayed and sat next to her bedside. Not to god or anything. But to her soulmate. It was after a day when her bullies took a step further and started burning her thighs just under her skirt with cigarettes. Her legs ached as she kneeled next to her bedside. Her elbows on her bed.

Head pressed into her palms, her knuckles drawn with red and purple. The only bruises that seemed to never go away.

Hey hey… if you stop getting in fights… I'll stop being bullied…

Can't you see what i’m going through?

If you stop getting in fights, I'll be happy.

Tears fell from her eyes before the pleading smile slipped from her face and she buried her face in the bed. Sobbing quietly into the sheets. As if the bed could swallow her whole and she wouldn't have to go to school tomorrow.

Don't you care for me at all, Soulmate?

She knew soulmates were supposed to care deeply for one another. Love for a soulmate took main importance over any other love in her world. Even the love that was shared between her parents triumphed over the love they had for her.

Her eyes cried until she realized she was smelling red on her bed sheets where she was burying her face in them. Gasping, she ran to her bathroom and almost fell over at the look of her face. Another fight. Another nosebleed gushing from her nose.

Her eyes stared before she slumped against the wall and let the blood trickle down her chin and stain her shirt. A sob bubbling up.

If she ever met her soulmate, she swore…

The first thing she’d do was slap them across the face.

She’d make them beg for forgiveness for what they’ve put her through.

And she wouldn’t cry.

Especially the last one.

These three promises she repeated in her head as she slumped against the wall. Sighing as she’s so exhausted. Falling asleep on the bathroom floor and dreading tomorrow.

And out on the street, a boy with short purple hair grinned as he punched someone in the face. Without a care in the world, never inspecting his body enough to see the cigarette burns or the small pin prints of bruises on his arms. More concerned about the broken nose he received and the broken nose he's about to give the guy in his hands.

He felt a punch to his cheek before he turned his head and told them to wait their turn. Needing to get the edge off and keep beating on the guy in his hand. Not a care in the world.

Because he didn’t have a soulmate.

Going into high school, she made some changes. She knew she was going to a different high school than her bullies, which was a small solace in this world. But she knew if she didn’t change her demeanor, the same thing would happen from before.

Looking down at her thighs as she wore shorts made her sick, the burn scars never really fade. At least cuts that bled profusely from her soulmate and probably scarred their skin, never scarred hers. She was thankful to her soulmate for that at least. It’s only her ugly and disgusting scars that remain.

The fall before her spring semester in high school, she buys a lot of medical masks. Her parents not questioning her when she starts wearing them everywhere. More so glad that they don't have to see her soulmate tie anymore. The next thing she buys are fingerless gloves, they cover the neverending bruises on her knuckles.

She keeps her hair slightly over her eyes, so no one can see the scrapes on her forehead or the black eyes she receives. Requesting a longer skirt was no problem and when she looked in the mirror, she thinks she looks just a touch ridiculous. She looked less like a student in Korea and more of a Sukeban in a manga. Giggling to herself, she crouches on the floor as she looks at herself.

Damn, she really does look like a delinquent.

She wonders if anyone will even talk to her if she looks like this. She wonders for a moment before sighing and dropping it, it doesn’t matter to her. There was no one who cared for her in middle school, there's no reason anything should change. The only thing that comforts her is the idea that she may not get hassled.

And she doesn’t.

Everyone actually steers clear away from her.

She doesn’t bother eating lunch, knowing she can just stop by after school. Not wanting anyone to question her face. Keeping to herself and not talking at school seems to do the trick for the most part.

It’s… lonely.

She’s seen about 5 people meet their soulmates just in the first week of classes. Everytime, her heart aches. Everytime, she just wants to meet hers. And then she remembers. And then she doesn’t care anymore.

In another classroom, a boy with messy purple hair kicks his feet up on the desk. He looks for a fight, needing to let go of his pent up energy. He had recently been scouted by the Union after he beat Myles Joo. It doesn’t really matter to him. As long as he gets what he wants and bitches don’t fuck with him, he doesn’t really care about anything.

Right when lunch starts, a kid looks at him too long. He’s a bit put off from the way Wolf’s eyes bore into him. He opens his mouth to ask what he wants.

1.. 2..

He smiles as he immediately kicks his desk at the boy and stands from his seat. The poor guy coughing before holding his hands up, barking that Seongje can’t get away with that. Holding his hands up as if there was a chance at him winning the fight. Making it more than a beat down.

Looked at me for too long, fuckin’ bastard.

Is his only reply as he beats the guy bloody, grinning as his class, in the middle of leaving, staring at the display. And only one thought permeated in their minds.

WE CAN NOT FUCK WITH THIS GUY!!!!!!

People who knew him from middle school have already ducked into the hallway and walked as fast as they could. Ignoring the way the guy’s yells have been heard in the hallways. It sounds like carnage and a wolf tearing apart prey. Girls walked past the classroom as the boy emerged.

He brushed shoulders with a girl who was on her way out from a classroom at the end of the hall. Looking down at her, their eyes met. A wolfish smile appears on his face as he squeezes the blood from in his palms. Not his, of course. Piece of shit didn’t even put up a monicher of a fight.

1…

Her eyes turn away quickly as she ducks her head. He can’t catch her face as she scurries away but he’s sure she’s scared. He huffs out a laugh as he stalks his way to the meeting he’s gonna have. Girlies aren’t worth beating anyway.

And in another classroom, a girl sleeps during lunch time and doesn’t wake until the door slams open and her classmates pour back in. It’s a bit hot in the accessories she’s wearing but it’s alright. She takes off the gloves until it’s time to leave school and keeps the mask on. It’s hard to see but she’d rather that than let people see the bruises her soulmate undoubtedly has.

During the first week of every school year since Middle School, her soulmate has gotten into a fight every time.

It seems this time is not different when she goes to the bathroom and washes her hands, seeing the red bloom into a purple on her knuckles. She represses a sigh as she keeps her head down before a girl taps her shoulder.

Damn it…

Turning, she looks and sees a girl with an emoticon imprinted on her cheek. It’s glowing gold, a sign she’s already found her soulmate. Slipping on her gloves as she turns, the girl doesn’t catch sight of her hands. Her body tense and afraid as she faces the shorter girl.

“Excuse m-me… do you have a handkerchief I can use..?”

Emoticon girl’s voice is timid and small and suddenly, all of the tension drains out of her and makes her shoulders sag. Not saying a word, she pulls a handkerchief from her pocket and leaves the bathroom with nothing else to do.

She doesn’t wait around to hear the small girl squeak out a thanks and a promise to return it. A wave of her hand suffices Rubbing the back of her neck, she walks back to her own class and studies until it’s time to leave.

Oddly enough, she’s sought out by this girl and learns her name. Quietly, handing her back her handkerchief and asking if the girl who hides her face would like to eat lunch together.

They do.

Apparently Emoticon girl is a big nerd and an even bigger nerd about the gangs in the area. It’s…. An odd fascination but it’s alright. Whenever the girl rambles, she smiles under her mask. A warm feeling blooming in her chest.

It’s her first friend.

She doesn’t say this aloud and she hides her warm cheeks and big silly smile behind her mask and indifference. Her friend doesn’t seem to mind her appearance or the fact she doesn’t partake in conversations about soulmates.

The only time her friend ever mentioned soulmates, she completely shut down. Her shoulders sagging before her friend rubbed her shoulder and immediately went on to ramble about another gang. Offhandedly, she mentioned she met her soulmate and he goes to a different school. A congrats is in place.

It’s been a month or so of this more or less peaceful life.

“And did I tell you about Seongje- or uh-”

Her friend’s voice dropped to a whisper. Leaning closer to her ear. A soft smile is hidden behind the medical mask she wears everyday.

“Wolf. That’s what people in the Union call him.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, Oh! It’s insane, they say he beats people up if they look at him for three seconds. Three seconds !!! Like who are you?! The president of the frickin’ United States?! Might as well pull out a gun at that point too!”

Her laugh is loud and muffled behind her mask as they sit in the lunchroom. Grabbing onto her friend for support. No lunch is ever eaten except for the one her friend brings from home.

“It’s not funny!! He goes to our school!! Who knows… he might be around us… ready to pounce at any moment…”

“Please stop describing him like a documentary.”

“It’s SERIOUS!”

They bicker back and forth before she learns that there is in fact a boy in her school who’s number five in this so-called Union. People call him the Mad Dog of Ganghak. He has purple hair, killer eyes, and an insanely short temper. A touch sadistic as well.

He sounds more like a fairytale than anything.

Scoffing, she leans her head on her friend’s shoulder and asks to hear more about the beef between Donald Na and Ben Park again because it’s way more interesting. And way funnier with the odd American names her friend gave everyone so no one knows that they’re talking about Gang shit. Way more than whoever this “wolf” is.

She’s also starting to think he doesn’t exist because for all the carnage her friend says that he causes, she has never seen him. And she thinks she’d recognize a dude with purple hair and big ass glasses.

“That’s because you always sleep whenever he does ANYTHING!”

She rolls her eyes before they have to go back to class. Chuckling to herself as she sits down at her desk, pulling back out her notes and studying. Wolf? The Union? Yeah right.

It isn’t until she’s walking home after cram school, she hears thuds and sharp yells coming from an alleyway. Goddamn it, this is NOT her problem. Why did her parents have to have her cram school so close to the slums? She might as well be dead…

AND it’s raining. She clutches her umbrella closer to her chest as she wonders if she should just turn back and take a longer way to get to the bus stop. It would probably save her a few broken bones at this point, judging from the screams she was hearing.

But when she sees boys with swollen faces running out from the alley and straight past her, her eyebrows fly to her forehead. Turning her head and seeing them half limp half run for their lives down the street. Then a car comedically splashing water on them from the rain.

Heh… that was kinda funny.

She turns back to continue her walk, deeming it safe enough. But a flash of dulled out purple catches her eye, slouched against the wall in the alleyway she saw those boys run out from. Her eyes widen as she sees a boy huffing out breaths, a grin on his face as he tries to light a cigarette.

Which is really stupid by the way because it’s fucking raining.

For a reason she can’t name, she feels a pull to this boy. Her shoes scraping against the soaked sidewalk and right into the dark alley where she could be kidnapped to be honest. But despite every conscious thought in her mind telling her to run, run, run.

She walks closer.

A fragile moth to a flame.

A gloved hand reaches forward to bump her umbrella against the other wall in the alley. Her hair getting soaked as she looks down at this boy. He seems to realize someone’s shielding him from rain, his face snapping up to meet her eyes. And behind cracked glasses, she sees grey eyes boring into hers.

She can see the signs from nearby stores and the light from a nearby convenience store light up his form. Slumped against the brick wall, futilely holding a hand over his soaking cigarette.

His face was a bit swollen with noticeable punches being thrown to his jugular. Glasses that were a little big for his face. His lip has a cut that's still dripping blood with the rain already dripping down his face. Somehow making him look worse than if it wasn’t raining.

His hair was stuck down to his head and face, looking like a sad puppy who was abandoned. She thinks maybe her friend’s funny comments rubbed off on her because she thinks she should get a little cardboard box for him to sit in. Maybe get a can for him to shake as if he was homeless.

Or maybe he is, she shouldn’t judge.

Examining his clothes, it looks pretty fucked up. Smeared with blood and dirt, shoe prints on his white shirt underneath his school blazer.. His school blazer…. His red school……

Her jaw drops from behind her mask.

Oh.

“Wanna fight or something?”

He mumbles, his eyes narrowing at her. His soaked cigarette dangling lazily between his lips. His eyes observing her outfit. His school’s uniform. Must be a bitch of one of the guys he just beat to a pulp. She’s wearing fingerless gloves and a mask, he can’t even fucking tell what her eyes look like because she’s got hair covering them.

Looks like someone who’s looking for a fight. Someone who doesn’t want to be identified in a fight.

He hates that.

When he raises his hand to elicit a reaction, she immediately slinks away. Flinching when he raises his fist even slightly in her direction. This delinquent looking girl immediately hunches as she turns her head away, as if expecting a blow.

Hm.

Maybe not a fight she’s looking for.

A smirk graces his face as he sees her pull the umbrella from over his head as she takes one more look at him before running away. The pouring rain back on him as he sighs.

So fucking annoying.

He doesn't even feel the will to get up at the moment and some girl who wants to stare at him like he’s a kicked puppy is not helping. Closing his eyes, he tries to feel the will to stand up return to his legs. The rain pattering down on him as he vaguely wonders if the color in his hair will wash out.

The pattering is stopped when he opens his eyes again, sighing when there’s an outstretched hand extended to him. This girl just doesn’t give up, does she?

Crouching in front of him, one arm holding the umbrella over his head and the other hand extended a plastic bag to him.

Does she feel sorry for him?

“I’m not homeless, you fucking idiot.”

He says a little exasperated over the rain that’s pouring around them. His hand knocking against her wrist and shoving it aside as he scoffs. The lights from the building next to them lights up the side of her face. He can see her eyes, slightly. They seem to soften at him.

Amused. Just a bit.

Maybe.

The bag comes back to keep being extended out to him.

“Are you really Ganghak’s Mad Dog?”

next chap.

#fanfic #fanfiction #charlotteqfton #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #wolf keum x reader #geum seong je #wolf keum #weak hero x reader #weak hero kdrama #geum seongje x reader #geum seongje #weak hero class two #weak hero webtoon #x reader #fem reader #reader insert #reader

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81pastrys · 4 months ago

Text

Their Mechanic

Part 7 / 10

Summary— Lando goes MIA physically then shows up with his prized car and a friend who needs help with his Ferrari

Warnings— Carlos nearly being misogynistic

A/N— Carlos joins the club

Series List

A few weeks go by, and I’m in the shop. I’ve serviced the other boys' cars several times but have yet to see Lando this week. We’ve been texting nonstop, and I tease him over text for not coming to see me. He read the text, and a few minutes later, my dad threw a set of keys at me.

“Little flirt, your boyfriend is here.” He teased.

“Which one?” I shot back, walking past him and looking at the key. It was a McLaren key, but not one I’ve seen before. Walking to the garage door, I look up from the keys and see Lando leaning on his McLaren Senna. I freeze, and my mouth drops.

My face screamed shock and genuine emotion as I walked around the car. “Little gift for neglecting your services.” The man said, smiling. “I’ve been busy in London.”

I didn’t need an explanation for his absence, but I missed him so much. “Does this car even need work, Lan?” I ask. I don’t want to admit it, but I’m afraid to touch his senna. I’m sure he heard it in my voice.

“No, I just wanted you to see it.” He joked, smiling. “I worked on it before I left, but you can take a look at it, love.” The new nickname had my heart fluttering and my hands clammy. I pulled it to my spot in the garage and popped the hood.

“Such a beautiful car,” I mumble. I work my way through the intricacies of the car and admire its beauty. Lando points out hotspots that are different from those of his spider.

“Trouble, are you done drooling?” My dad asked from afar. “You’ve got another request on the way.”

“Who?” I ask, confused. I wasn’t expecting anyone else today. I delicately close the car's hood and return the keys to Lando. “Name?”

“Sainz, Carlos.” He said, handing me a clipboard. “Ferrari.” A new name to the list. I look at the clipboard and then back to my dad.

“Fer- Pa!” I exclaim. I’ve worked on Ferraris, but they are usually upset about their service. “Why me?!” Not that I can’t work on the cars, but their complexity gets me.

“He asked for you!” My dad defended. I walk to Lando, and he smirks at me. He can tell I’m a bit nervous for the man to arrive.

“Ferrari, huh?” He teased. “Carlos is my mate, but he won’t let me touch his cars.” He admitted as the Ferrari pulled in.

“Is that a fucking Roma?” I mutter as I walk up to the tall, tanned man. Lando was close behind, greeting him before I could. “Trouble,” I say, shaking his hand.

“Lando, mate, you didn’t tell me-“ He started, and his accent was smooth and delicate. I glared at him before he finished his sentence. Like Oscar, he doesn’t believe in my work. Lando spoke up before I could say something snarky.

“That trouble was a female?” Lando scoffed. “Mate, she fixes my car better than I can.” I look at the man with an innocent look, still holding onto the clipboard with the issues he stated.

“You can watch me work on it if you want,” I innocently tell him. I seductively blink and look at Lando; who knows what I’m doing. I can’t help but smile at him.

“Ok, love, don’t tease him.” Lando laughs. I break the character and tell the man to pop the hood. I look in and avoid the hotspots. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Clicking,” Carlos said. What a vague description.

“Turn the car on, what’s clicking?” I ask, the attitude prominent. He turns it on, and I hear it. The belt must be loose. “Your belt is offset.”

“Is it offset or dry?” Lando asked. He looked at me, and he wasn’t testing me this time. He knew cars like I knew them but wasn’t trained similarly.

“Offset. If it were dry, it would be squealing, not clicking.” I explain. I swapped the sports cars and got to work on the Ferrari. Thankfully an offset belt is difficult to fuck up when fixing. I hand my mom the clipboard and wink at Lando.

“Good job, love, " he said, giving me a side hug. My mom laughed and cashed Carlos out. “I do owe you a date,” Lando mentioned. My face turned red.

“Do you?” I smile at him like I haven’t remembered the text. I walk past and peck his cheek. “Work calls and you have too many friends,” I whisper, walking to my dad.

Ferraris are hard.

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mockingkatniss · 1 year ago

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NEED A RIDE? - drug dealer!Coriolanus Snow

18+ | nswf | mdni

warnings and tags: swearing, mention of drug dealing, smut, sloppy making out, multiple orgasms, blowjob, mention of gagging, body fluids, use of words like “wh0re” or “slu7”, specific body descriptions. BUZZCUT CORYO (little bit of a jump-scare for some of y’all) MODERN!AU, p in v sex, reader is just soft but not innocent, intese sex, porn without plot. (If I missed anything lmk).

(not proof read because I was tired, I will fix eventual errors <3)

summary: one particularly hot summer evening coryo sees you riding your bike while he’s driving he’s car around mindlessly and he ask you if you need a ride.

words count: 3.109k

Wanted to thank so so much @swiftiekisses because the drug dealer!coryo au it’s hers but she inspired me a lot and I also love so much her writing that I wanted to contribute with this fic! Also a big thanks to @euphemiaamillais because I’m literally addicted to what she writes and for inspirations for the drug dealer! au too! <3

enjoy and support me with a comment or a tiny heart! 💗🎀

coriolanus was driving by the quiet and deserted road of his god forsaken forgotten little town.

he hoped almost every morning to just wake up and found his rotten little city was torn down by some natural catastrophe.

he thought that dreams or ambitions couldn’t come true here. since his family lost everything due to his father's poor life choices, he was now stuck with poverty at 18 years and a cousin and grandmother to look after. more correctly just grandmother, since tigris left for college just the year prior.

to round some money he worked at the gas station, a literal hell hole in summer and plus coryo was sure he left part of his soul here, and sold some drugs to younger kids or kids his age at school or at parties but most of the times they directly came to the gas station.

if a drug had a name it was mostly probable that coryo had it to sell

that summer was cruel, sweat sticking to clothes and the asphalt so hot it could melt shoe soles, so cruel that coryo decided just two days ago to buzz his beautiful platinum curls off. the super short hair gave him a totally new appearance, he noticed that at the last party he went to sell, that mostly girls bought from him, stucking dollar bills inside his front jeans pocket and sometimes begging for a kiss or some good old make out. he accomplished and accepted that he was just extremely hot.

his car moaned underneath him as he drove, that old piece of garbage was still going on but coryo feared that someday he would be left walking.

it was 7:35 pm, his shift at the gas station over since sejanus plinth took his place for the night shift. sejanus was a nice kid, he was rich but decided to take another path just having shitty jobs during the summer like most teens even though for him it wasn't necessary having one. he didn’t sell drugs but he covered coryo so many times at school or at work so he was ok.

coryo had a small joint hanging from his lips as he drove, just one hand on the steering wheel and both the car’s windows opened since his ac was (obviously) broken, but even the air was heavy and warm that night.

miraculously the bluetooth radio was still working so he was listening to some trap rap music on his cracked up phone, the screen broken from everytime he made it fall while running away from cops or simply on the floor on a daily basis. as the music went on he thought about how the suggestion to listen to that genre of music came from clemensia e arachne at school, but it was nice for once not only listening to metal or punk rock.

while he took another hit from his joint something caught his eye on the road. it was a bike, someone was riding it and he probably knew who it could be.

the bike was faded pink with old stickers on it and you were riding it tiredly, legs sore and sweat sticking to your skin.

your tiny tight skirt was riding up a little showing some more of your thighs and coryo swore to god that he saw a glimpse of your pink panties.

sometimes you bought from him some weed and nothing more. you were a literal sunshine and at school you talked to everyone, being friendly and helpful. coryo still remembers how you helped him with physics the first year of highschool. you both were still young but nature obviously blessed you donating you such a sexy body.

he instantly felt his cock gently twitch into his jeans and he made the smoke from the joint exiting his nostrils in annoyance. don’t you get coryo wrong, he had sex and sure plenty of it but since the hot sticky summer he wasn’t feeling like it to just screw some girl even though he just needed to say the words. it was peculiar how his cock woke up just by seeing you.

he drove nearby you slowly to keep up with your velocity and you looked over to acknowledge the presence of a car and as you recognized the driver you smiled throughout puffed breaths from hotness and the riding.

coryo made a small smirk while pulling the joint away from his lips to talk. “hey bunny, need a ride?”. you slowly stopped your bike, tippy toes of your pink vans scratching on the asphalt. coryo stopped the car too and since the streets were dead he just got off his vehicle to look at you while positioning the almost finished joint on the car roof.

you panted lightly as you talked as you examined his presence. “it would be so nice coryo, I think I’m about to faint because of the heat”. he nodded understandingly with his head to the car behind him. “get on, I’ll get the bike” coryo thought he was going crazy when you got off the bike seat revealing more of your thighs. you collected your backpack and lifted yourself up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, strawberry lip gloss scent evident on his skin too now. “thank you coryo you’re my savior” you said before going to the opposite back of the car.

once the bike was fixed in the back he turned the car back on, securing his joint back around his lips once again while grabbing his lighter inside his jeans front pocket.

“where am I taking you?” he asked while lighting the joint to take a long drag before passing it to you. “I’m going to my dads house, it’s near the football field, 32nd house” you explained as coryo nodded knowing where it was since he spent much more time driving around in his free time than anything else. you also accepted the joint starting to smoke with relaxed muscles.

coryo looked over at you while driving, there was a peaceful silence. his elbow leaned outside the car’s window as his slim fingers tapped the steering wheel gently while driving. you noticed his rings decorating his fingers and his new buzz cut hair made his features even more sharp. you took three puffs from the joint handing him it back while caressing your naked thighs trying to pull down the miniskirt.

coryo savored till the last minute your lucid lips around the filter that he made, somehow the sweat made your skin warm and inviting, the blonde felt his cock twitch again and he fixed himself on the seat while trusting with his hips forward. he coughed a bit taking the last puff while tossing the dead joint outside the car. “how's it going in general?” you asked softly feeling already your head light but not too much, it was pleasant. “mh it’s ok, it’s too hot to work or to do anything else, I just want winter back” coryo explained briefly, voice slightly rough from smoking. you chuckled while leaning over to him to pinch his cheek softly. “awww snow wants his snow back doesn’t he?” coryo smiled while looking over to her, instinctively he turned over his face to scratch your fingers with his teeth playfully as you kept messing with him. “by the way, you look good today, bunny, but riding that bike with just this tiny skirt? a little bit dangerous don’t you think?” he asked while gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “how is it dangerous? riding my bike won’t stop me” you felt like wanting to touch him so much, so you placed your hand on his thigh. coryo was one of the hottest boys at school and his reputation made him even hotter and you were a total slut for bad boys.

at your gesture he stiffened a bit looking down at you delicately manicured hand and you kept caressing him going higher and higher but stopping just before his crotch. “can’t keep your hands to yourself now?” he tried to be ironic but just your presence had made him incredibly hard and it was difficult to not stop the car and fuck you in the back seats, your pretty head pressed into the plush of the seats. “maybe I don’t want to keep them to myself” you shrugged while pulling away your hand as he stopped the car in front of your dads house.

he exited the car while trying to hide his hard on while pulling his jeans around to crotch to fix the situation but nothing was effective. coryo pulled your bike outside the back of his car and you thanked him again while kissing his cheek but making the kiss longer. he sighed with a smirk while placing his big warm hand on your hips. you caressed his chest while looking up at him, a small pout on your lips. “you’re busy?” you asked, your long lashes batting at him inviting. “mmh no bunny, i’ll probably just go home, smoke again and collapse on my bed” his thumbs caressed your exposed skin just a little bit above your skirt. “why don’t you come inside? my dads busy he won’t be home till tomorrow noon” you swayed your hips a bit with pleading eyes. “fuck bunny you’re truly tempting but-“ you interrupted him while taking his hand, pulling him towards the house. coryo gave in, closing the car with his keys by distance and following you inside. you were making him feral with your temptations and soft eyes.

thank god the house had an ac so it was cooler inside. you tossed your shoes away together with your backpack and went to the kitchen to collect some water for you both and coryo looked around noticing how the house was elegant and well kept.

he slipped off his beaten up black combat boots and just sat on the big couch. he almost sunk inside it, noticing it was a water couch and smirked as dirty thoughts filled his head.

“the water couch is amazing isn’t it?” you giggled while handing him a glass of water while bouncing next to him making the couch move in small waves. “yeah pretty comfortable” he said as he leaned the glass to his lips not looking away from you for any second.

you then smiled mischievously while slipping down the couch, your knees sinking in the soft fluffy carpet. you positioned yourself between his legs while going for the zipper of his pants pulling it down with pure eyes. coryo almost choked on his water as he looked at you with pleased eyes and a big smirk on his lips. “what the fuck are you doing bunny?” he breathed out a laugh as you tried to pull down his pants together with his boxers. “I want to suck you off so bad so lift up your butt now” your tone was playful and demanding and he did as you said making you able to pull his jeans and boxers down making his pink cock sprung to life. it leaned against his tummy perfectly. “what did I do to deserve something like this without even asking?” he placed his hands behind his head pushing his hips up so he could sink more into the water couch. “nothing special but you’re fucking hot and I can’t wait anymore,” you paused to spit on his tip gently while pushing some curls behind your ears. “and I just know you’re good at selling as you’re good at fucking” you giggled while finally gripping his base. “I knew you were big, shit” you were already fantasizing about taking him deep and hard inside your cunt. “you knew?” coryo laughed again but his breath was getting ragged slightly.

you just didn’t respond, kitten licking his tip and collecting precum as you looked up at him. he bit his bottom lip harshly to just concentrate not to burst his cum all over your pretty glittery makeup and long lashes.

you kissed his length till the base then licking a long stripe back up till you swallowed half his cock allowing space with your tongue and cheek. you started to suck and lick and the moans he was making were pornographic.

after a while saliva was dripping down your chin mostly when you decided to deepthroat him with a fluid movement making the water couch sway gently. “ah fuck bunny, you’re so fucking good” coryo moaned, lust clouding his blue eyes as he gripped your curls to buck into your throat just two times just to hear you gag shamelessly around his cock.

you smiled through teary lashes and bubbles of saliva and lifted your head to just suck at his tip harshly.

“shit- I’m gonna come bunny” coryo announced as you jerked off the rest of his cock while concentrating on the tip. at his words you pulled away standing up and his angry cock just leaned against his tummy as he bucked into air. “are you completely mad you fucking slut?” he said impulsively, the ruined orgasm hitting something into his mind profoundly.

you just smirked while slipping off your crop top and miniskirt. “what did you just call me coryo?” you asked while undoing your bra and slipping off your soaked pink panties. his mouth was slightly agape at your naked body, eyes obsessed. “I said you’re a whore, a slut” he said slowly and challengingly, lips mimicking each final letter. “oh yeah? let this slut show you how much of a whore she is.” you walked on the couch standing above him both of your feet planted on each side of his legs making the water couch giggle.

he was completely transfixed as you opened your legs leaning one of your knees on the headset of the couch. you grabbed his head from behind pushing his mouth on your dripping core.

coryo thought about cumming just from that, just from the smell of your juices and the taste of it.

it was so intense, his tongue lapping at your folds once in a while stopping to suck on your lips or clit while humming. his big hands gripped your ass squishing the plush meat here to push his face further into you.

you were a complete mess as you scratched his head and moaned shamelessly and loudly, hips bucking as you trusted him keeping you up to not let you fall.

“fuck coryo! fuck I’m coming!” you chanted as you gripped his head, legs quivering as your juices splashed into his face. coryo felt on cloud nine as he gripped your hips to not let you fall as he lapped at your juice like the starving dog he was. dying by suffocation from your pussy seemed the only best thing he could think of at the moment.

you came down from your high slipping down as you sat on his lap, grabbing his neck to kiss him sloppily to taste yourself in his mouth. you sucked his tongue, licked the roof of his mouth and even licked his teeth while he playfully rubbed your clit. “mh! I’m sensitive-“ you lamented while pushing his hand away, your lips glistening with his saliva. “I need you inside now coryo” you gently kissed his jawline and neck while rubbing your pussy onto his still angry cock. “your wish is my demand bunny but you’re not gonna come again sooner or later” as he said so with his low voice he pushed his cock inside of your thigh pussy helping himself with his fingers and you laughed a moan while arching and sitting fully on his hard member. he immediately hit your cervix so good you felt helpless.

it was the most passionate and sloppiest sex of your entire life. you rode him like your entire existence depended on it, you knees sunk into the water couch as you bounced on his cock helped by the gentle waves. his hands were placed right on top of your ribs as your hips were too quick to control anyways. you pushed your head so hard against his that your noses squished together as your forehead and your moans and shouts tangled together. both mouths opened, eyebrows furrowed.

coryo didn’t even remember his name anymore when you clenched hard around him signaling somehow that you were close. “stupid bunny thought she could come yeah?” he murmured around a moan as he gripped hard your ass to stop your intense riding. “what the fuck coryo? don’t stop please, fuck!” you lamented but when he pushed your back into the couch your eyes rolled in the back of your skull. coryo fucked into you helplessly, his orgasm close. your back arched and he massaged your breasts cupping them harshly. “shit fuck! I’m coming” he moaned, eyes fluttering close for a minute. to make you pay he pulled out, cum splashing on your tummy and even on your breasts from the intensity of it and you cried out loud from the loss of his cock inside of you. you even laughed a bit through cries because of where his cum landed but then you gripped his ear angrily. “make me come coryo, make me fucking come” she arched rubbing her pussy against his worked out cock. coryo panted a laugh and gripped your jaw with his hand tightly before leaning over to bit and pull your lower lip. he massaged your clit with all of his hand opened while looking at you. “look at your fucked out face, you’re completely drunk on my cock” he laughed again mischievously just to degrade you. he rubbed your entire pussy quickly, slapping your clit once in a while. “now you’re gonna come and admit that only my cock can make you this fucked up mh?” you nodded, eyes rolling once in a while. “yes, yes coryo, only you, only want your cock” he chuckled again while his hand kept going. “that’s what I wanted to hear bunny” at his last words you came, the orgasm making your entire skeleton tremble in pure bliss. you cried his name with your mouth wide open.

when you calmed down a bit he was just caressing your thighs while admiring your body painted with his cum and you smiled while stretching out a bit. “next time you’re gonna come inside coryo” you said it so naturally with a small smile and a yawn and coryo playfully slapped your sensitive clit with two fingers making you whine a bit. “I'm looking forward to the next time in like, 10 minutes, bunny.”

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xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox · 10 months ago

Text

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) To think about something deeply

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

Chapter Two: Adjustments

Now Playing: It Almost Worked by TV Girl

Chapter warnings: unwanted advances, cursing, mentions of alcohol/beer. Nothing overly described.

Jacob had gotten bigger since I last saw him.

It was a given, obviously, since I had last seen him when I was nine and he was seven with a missing front tooth and a slight lisp because of it.

But it was more than that, I think.

He had shot up like a tree, tall and lean now, but it was visiblethat his muscles were starting to bulk up. His hair looked thicker and his face was losing its boyish roundness, turning into sharp cheekbones and a cut jaw.

I hopped out of the truck as Bella turned it off, and I walked into the barn with a flourish, not bothering to knock.

“Oh, oops,” I said, realizing Jacob had more friends over.

They were two boys sitting with Jacob, who stood when I walked in.

“Sorry,” I said, “I didn’t realize Jake had friends over.”

“No, no, it’s ok,” one of the boys said, standing also and turning to face Bella and I fully. “No worries, right, Embry?”

Embry, also standing now, is tall and thin. His hair falls in slight waves around his head and his eyes are soft and dark.

Jacob rolls his eyes at his friends, coming over to give Bella and I a hug.

“How are you always getting taller?” I grumble as he gives me a hug. He just laughs.

“Are your friends staying..?” Bella asks, looking at them. Jacob shrugs.

“If you two don’t mind.” He says, turning again to look at me. I shrug, wandering to the back of the garage and pulling out a blanket and pillow that I had stashed away.

Quil and Embry, whose names I learn quickly, stay and watch Jacob and Bella fix up the bikes.

I talk to them, amused with their humor. They were a bit childish, but not annoyingly so.

Quil was cheery and all smiles, and Embry was more reserved and quiet. It was refreshing how genuine they are.

“So, what did you guys do for winter break?” I ask, looking towards Embry and Quil.

Eagerly, Quil tells me about the bonfire they had and all the food he ate. I smile as I listen to him talk, his story-telling humorous and fast-paced.

Before he launched into another story, Jacob interrupted Quil to ask, “Y/n, would you get some waters from the fridge?”

I nod, standing up from the pallet I had made on the ground and wandering into the house to grab bottles of water for everyone.

I pass them out, and Quil picks up where he left off without hesitation. I laugh more than I have in a while because of his stories and Embry’s sharp tongued quips when his friend got a little overzealous with his descriptions of events.

I knew Bella was having fun, too. She would snicker at Embry’s sly words and Quil’s fanciful stories, looking up to watch them argue before going back to helping Jacob, a smile on her face.

I smiled wider, contentment blooming in my chest.

---

“Hey, guys!” I greet, smiling as I walk up to where Sam sits with Jared and Paul in the booth.

“Hey, y/n,” Sam says, looking weary.

Concerned, I ask him, “Are you alright, Sam?”

He smiles, rubbing his face.

“Haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.” He tells me, and I’d believe it.

His skin is paler than normal, his face looking drawn and thin. The skin under his eyes is ashen and ruddy, a clear sign of his lack of actual rest.

Jared doesn’t look much better. His hair is frizzy around his head, the braids he kept it in messy. It’s clear that he hasn’t had a chance to redo them in a while, which is unusual because he takes great pride in the appearance of his “luscious locks.” He, too, has heavy eye bags. He’s not pale like Sam is, instead looking flushed, almost feverish.

Paul, who I don’t have much to compare with, seemed in rough shape, too. He has a bruise on his jaw and a scabbed over cut through his brow, looking like he got into a fight. His expression seems grumpier than it normally does, which is saying something.

“Milkshake, Pepsi, water?” I ask, glancing at the three of them.

Paul looks up from to table to make eye contact with me.

“Coffee, please.” He said gruffly, and I nod. He sits stiffly in his seat, like he was sore. Charlie sits the same way when his knee starts to bother him during the winter.

I bring them their drinks quickly, setting a bowl of sugars and creamers down beside Paul’s hand. His fingers twitch, almost a flinch.

“What do you boys want to eat tonight?” I ask, pen to paper as I wait.

Jared ends up getting a large stack of pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausage. Sam gets his usual sandwiches and fries, and Paul decides on a chicken sandwich, pulled pork sandwich, and a large basket of fried pickles.

Tonight’s slower than ever, save for a group of men on the other side of the diner who have come this way to have some beers. Why they chose Roy’s is beyond me, but it’s probably because they’re dirt cheap.

I get Sam’s group their food quickly, turning around to help Chelsea bring bottles of beer to the table she had the unfortunate luck to be working. As I set the bottles down on the table, one of the men put his arm around my waist to try and pull me to his seat.

“Well aren’t you just darlin’,” the man says, his eyes struggling to focus on me. My face twitches before I can stop it, my lips pulling up in disgust.

His friends laugh at him, wolf whistling and jeering.

“I don’t think she like that, Freddy,” one of them snickers, and Chelsea tries to tug me away.

“Come on, sit with us a while!” The dunk man says, still trying to tug me into his lap. I try and politely refuse, but he just pinches my side and pulls harder.

“Enough, asshole,” I snap, shoving away from him and quickly taking a step back. “I’m working, and you’re old enough to be my father. I’m not sitting with you, I’m not going home with you, and I’m not serving you any more drinks.”

“I’ll be back with your bill.” Chelsea hurriedly tells them, grabbing my hand when the man, outraged, staggers to his feet to look down at me.

My heart drops to my stomach as the drunkard takes a lumbering step forward, but a hand reaches out from behind me to shove him back into his seat.

“She told you to fuck off, didn’t she?” Paul spat, his voice rough as he stared the man down.

“She don’t know what she wants,” the man before me slurs, trying to stand again.

“Sit your ass down before I sit you down.” My eyes grow slightly wide as I glance at Paul, his face contorted with anger. He’s shaking slightly, and I reach back to push Chelsea farther away as I scurry a step back

“Paul.”

All three of us turn when Sam comes over, reaching out to grab Paul’s shoulder. He gives him a meaningful look, and he begrudgingly takes a step back.

Paul turns back to Chelsea and I, reaching his arm out to usher us back to the other side of the room, towards where Jared sits, watching.

I take a moment to really look at Paul as he guides us closer to the kitchen.

He’s tall, taller even than Jacob is now. He’s not quite as tall as Sam, who’s bordering on 6’5”, but I think he might be close. His shoulders are broad and muscular, his arms thick with cords of muscle. Like Jared, his shirt is tight around his chest and arms, but loose around his abdomen. His hair is loosely hanging around his face, a few locks curling around his jaw and ears while the rest hangs down his back. If it came down to it, I would bet that he could win a fight against any of the men in that corner regardless of if they were intoxicated.

As if feeling my gaze, he looks down at me when we stop walking. I clear my throat, looking away from him and back to Chelsea.

“Thank you, Paul. I appreciate your help.” I tell him quietly, my hand still firmly locked with Chelsea’s. She nods emphatically, her ringlet curls bouncing with the force.

He only nods, his jaw still clenched. Sam returns to the table as the group of drunks leave, grumbling to themselves.

“Are you okay, y/n?” He asks me, looking between Chelsea and I. I nod, shrugging.

“Disgusted, but yeah. It’s not the first time those guys have come here and made us feel gross.” I tell him, sighing.

Sam sighs, reaching out to pat my shoulder as he sits back down.

“Thank you for getting them to leave!” Chelsea blurts out, staring at Sam. He nods, taking a sip of his Pepsi.

It’s nearly empty, as are the rest of the drinks at their table.

“Oh, here, I’ll get you guys some more to drink.” I say, reaching out for their cups.

“That’s ok, y/n, you don’t have to,” Sam says, “We need to get back to the house, and you should probably be home soon, too.”

I blink, then nod, “’Kay, I’ll get you the check.”

Chelsea and I quickly get the check, and she slips from my side to go tell the cooks about what happened. I pay her little attention as I grab a few slices of the remaining chocolate pie and put it in a box, going over to hand Sam both it and the check.

He pays, hands me a twenty, and the three of them leave. Paul gives me a long look before he turns to follow Sam and Jared, and I find myself wishing that they had stayed a little longer.

---

“Yeah, that guy then tried to pull me into his lap and shit, and Paul came over and shoved him away and back into his seat—” I said, retelling the events of the previous night to everyone in Jacob’s garage.

At the name, Jacob’s head turns, his face scrunched.

“Paul who?” He asks, and I tilt my head, trying to remember his last name.

“Um, Lahote? I think?” I say, unsure, “Friends with Sam Uley?”

Quil and Embry share a look, and Jacob sternly says, “Stay away from him. All three of them are bad news, y/n.”

“What?” I ask, baffled, “Why? They all are pretty good to me, and Sam saved Bella in the woods, didn’t he?”

“Sure he did, y/n, but the three of them are in a gang.” Embry says, his voice serious.

“Or a cult. Jury’s still out on which one.” Quil adds, and I share a look with Bella.

“Yeah, okay. Sam Uley is in a gang and/or a cult leader, and Charlie and Billy just let it all happen. Sure.”

Jacob stares at me, “Y/n, I’m serious. Stay away from them. All three of them are nothing good. Trust us on this.”

I sigh, rolling my eyes but relenting.

“Okay, whatever. Stay away from them, I got it.” I reply, knowing that my promise would only last for so long. It’s not like I could ignore them or change shifts, and it’s not like I really wanted to.

Besides, I never saw them outside of working at Roy’s. It wouldn’t hurt to stay friends during my tedious, long shifts.

---

I didn’t see Jacob and the others for a few weeks. I was busy trying to study for a test in physics, a quiz in history, and writing an essay for English. It seemed that my teachers like to conspire and make everything due at the same time just to make my life difficult.

When I finally picked up another shift at Roy’s, I was greeted by the confusing sight of Embry sitting with Sam and his group. I smile and greet them, confused why Embry was with them when he had, to my knowledge, hated them previously.

I get their drink orders and ring them in, bringing them out quickly and getting their orders for food. I don’t have time to chat today, since Roy’s is unusually busy for this time of night.

I do manage to catch Embry in his way back from the bathroom, and I notice that he’s gotten taller. His chest and shoulders have filled out more, and when I snag his arm, he’s burning up.

“Em, you’re burning up!” I tell him, my hand recoiling like I’ve been burned. He opens his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it.

“Also, I thought you couldn’t stand Sam and his ‘gang-slash-cult’? What happened to that?” I ask, my brows furrowed as I stare at him. He just sighs.

“Y/n, it’s complicated, I can’t really explain it.” He says, a pained look in his eyes. “Just—don’t make a big deal of it, okay? It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” I ask, using my finger to jab him in the chest. He winces. “Embry, you’re covered in bruises and you look scared out of your mind! How is that not a big deal?”

“Y/n, I promise, you’ll understand later. I’ll tell you everything, I swear. Just give me time to figure it out myself, okay?”

I stare at him, searching his face.

“You have two weeks before I start searching for answers myself. I’ll involve Billy and Charlie if I have to.” I tell him flatly, “And whatever bandaid is hiding shit, I’m ripping it off.”

He smiles thinly, thanking me before going back to his table.

The rest of my shift is quiet and uneventful. Sam and his gang/cult/whatever the hell leave, and Embry gives me a look before he walks out the door. I just sigh.

---

“Bella,” I said, sitting down with my sister at lunch. She looked up from her salad, waiting for me to continue.

“Since when has Embry started hanging with Sam? I thought the three of them thought Sam and his friends were a gang or something?” I demanded, knowing that she was my last chance to learn before asking Jacob and Quil, who would lecture me about breaking promises.

Bella blinked at me for a second, then responded, “Couple weeks, probably? Jacob and Quil won’t talk about it other than to insult him or Sam, and I stopped asking because they just rant.”

I sighed, “Sucks for you then, I’m about to grill them about it.”

---

“Since when was Embry running with Sam?” Jacob looks up at my words, his brows furrowing.

“How’d you know he was?” He asks, and I’m quick to reply.

“I asked first. Answer my question.”

“Y/n,-”

“Jake.” I say, stern. “I need to know if he’s in trouble or not. You said Sam was running some kind of gang or cult, didn’t you?”

Jacob sighs, closing his eyes.

“Yeah,” he replies, “We think so. Embry stopped hanging with us about a week after you stopped coming over so you could study. He started skipping school and running around with Sam and his goons and wouldn’t talk to us.”

“Do I need to tell Charlie?” I ask, and he shakes his head.

“Nothing he could do. We don’t have proof of anything.” He tells me, “Besides, everyone loves those freaks for whatever reason.”

My lips thin, and I sigh.

---

“Have fun at the movies!” I call to Bella as she walks out the door. She said that her, Mike, and Jacob were going to see some action movie. I had declined the offer, since I had picked up an extra shift at Roy’s so I could sleep early tonight.

Roy’s was basically dead for my entire shift, so I got cut early and could go home. When I got back, Bella was sitting in my room, waiting for me.

“Hey?” I asked, wondering what was wrong. “How was the movie?”

“It was fine,” she said briskly, “When Embry joined Sam, Jake and Quil said that he had started to get agitated and irritable. Then he started running fever.”

“…okay..?” I asked, wondering where she was going with this. The first and only time I saw him at Roy’s with Sam, he was burning up, so whatever pattern might be there seemed to match.

“At the movies, Jake was irritable and mean to Mike. He was rude to him about his tolerance to the gore, and when I touched him, he was burning up.”

“So, you think he’s going to run off to Sam or something?” I asked, and she nodded. I pressed my lips together, and sighed.

“Let me go shower and change. We’ll talk when I’m done.”

I was quick in the bathroom, showering with haste and changing into my pajamas before walking back to my room.

“What do you want to do about Jake?” I asked, and she just shook her head. She was staring at her hands, and my brows furrowed. “Bells?”

She sniffed, rubbing her eyes, “I just don’t want to lose him, too, y/n. I don’t think I can handle it.”

“You won’t have to,” I assured her, coming over to hug her tightly. “I’ll beat his ass.”

She laughed wetly, her tears soaking into my sleep shirt.

I made a mental note to call Quil tomorrow, to see if he knows anything.

———

Hey guys! Quick edit here, I’m going over my work so far! (1/4/25)

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year ago

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// track 9 - the prophecy //

-> can I write a fic about din djarin without piling on the exposition? absolutely not. also bonus, this is my submission/entry/funtime for @prolix-yuy’s #bangathon2024! the wheel bestowed upon me the placid embrace, and I embraced the HELL out of it. fair warning this is unedited, I’m squeaking under the bangathon deadline here, but I had an idea and I ran with it! hope y’all enjoy 🤍

word count: 8.4k

warnings: canon-typical violence (a bit bloodier), possibly slightly OOC din djarin, descriptions of female body, unprotected p-in-v (wrap your shit in space too ok), din has a lot of feelings and has zero idea what they mean, the helmet comes off, reader is a seer/has visions, still not sure if I love the ending but here goes nothing!

He just can’t seem to catch a break.

“I don’t have the parts,” the smith is telling him, looking at Din’s broken vambrace with a pinched brow. “I can order ‘em in, but it’ll take a day or so to get ‘em here, another day or two to fix it. You gonna be here in four days?”

He takes the hunk of metal back, sliding his hand through the opening with a shake of his helmet, securing it back around his wrist. “Thank you for your time.”

The market is bustling with people. He can’t remember how long it’s been since he was on Batuu, but Black Spire Outpost is the same as it was the last time he touched the Crest down for repairs and refuelling. Except this time, there’s a tracking fob at his hip, a puck detailing his current bounty tucked into one of the pockets on his belt. The fob has been beeping slowly since he disembarked at the port, reluctantly paying the obscene amount of credits it cost to leave his ship for a day.

Not that it matters — the amount he’ll make on this job more than covers it. Two times over and then some. Once he delivers, he can go back to Nevarro, get his armour fixed, and onto the next one. The cycle continues, such is the life of a bounty hunter.

It’s not the life he would have picked for himself, he muses as he makes his way through the Outpost. But then, he wonders how many people in this galaxy have the lives they would have chosen, given the chance. Even the one he’s hunting.

Especially the one he’s hunting.

Din had been half-listening to Karga’s regular spiel about the bounty, but his ears perked up at the number of credits waiting for him at the finish line. “The ones who ordered the bounty, what planet are they from?”

“Savareen,” Karga had replied with a slight shudder. “Some backwater place on the Kessel Run. Don’t know how this coven got their hands on enough credits for something like this, but I know better than to ask questions. And the bounty isn’t on Savareen. She escaped and made it to Batuu somehow; I’m fuzzy on the details. All I know is the intel we have has her there still, and she killed both the fighters the witches sent after her. Feisty thing.”

“They didn’t give you anything else?”

“Only that she’s very valuable and they need her back before the next full moon.”

He’d slid the bounty puck across the table to Din then, the hologram flickering to life as he did. The face before him was too young, too innocent. You’d killed two fighters? Looking at you, Din wondered if you knew which end of the blaster to hold. But he held his tongue; he’d judged other bounties too quickly in the past, and had the scars to prove it.

Continuing through Black Spire, Din keeps his head down, but his eyes peeled. The fob is still beeping slowly, but as he turns down an alley, away from the busy market, the noise picks up. He keeps going, coming to a stop ahead of a small group of people. He lingers back, not making himself obvious as he observes.

An elderly man with a thick beard stares up at the sky, murmuring under his breath while two younger people seem to hang on his every word, holding his arms up for him. More people sit on the ground before the man, all staring at him intently.

The cloaked figure hanging at the edge of the group, hood obscuring their face, catches his attention. Their stance is tight, nervous, feet shuffling in the dirt with every word the elderly man says. To an untrained eye, they would look no different than Din himself, observing the group, lingering at the edge. But Din knows better.

The figure takes off as he takes a single step forward, hand resting on his blaster. In a flutter of dark fabric, he takes off after them, dodging the enthralled people on the ground, careful not to knock anyone over as he darts up the alleyway.

The fob is beeping rapidly now, quickening with every inch he gains on the cloaked figure, on you.

He grunts beneath his helmet, arms pumping as he runs, legs burning with exertion. He can’t remember the last time he sprinted after a bounty.

You’re relentless, taking hard lefts and rights any chance you get, but your scared movements are predictable, and Din finds it too easy to follow you, despite his racing heart and the sweat gathering on the back of his neck beneath his helmet. But your constant turning leads the chase back into the heart of the Outpost, and you’re moving too fast to stop from sliding into the large cart that pulls out suddenly into your path.

Din winces at the crash, your body crumpling to the ground and the cart’s contents pouring over your head. The merchant pushing the cart tries to help you up, but Din is quicker, hiding his heaving chest by straightening his shoulders, grabbing you by the arm and hauling you up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” the merchant starts, and Din lifts a hand, silencing him as he pulls a set of cuffs from his belt and slaps one around your wrist. You don’t fight him, surprisingly, offering your other wrist for him to clasp the cuff around. He’s grateful you can’t see his expression, the mix of confusion and surprise that has his brows shooting up beneath the helmet.

Strange.

He flicks the merchant a credit. “Did half the job for me,” he says, and grabs you by the shoulder, maneuvering around the stalled cart and back in the direction of the Razor Crest.

You don’t protest, keeping pace beside him, the corner of your mouth twitching as you walk. “You took longer than I thought you would, Mandalorian.”

The visions started when you were small.

They’ve always been a part of you, long as you can remember, and before you knew their true purpose, you thought them dreams, blips of darkness that occasionally came to call, taking you over and leaving you with knowledge that, most of the time, you didn’t want.

You were only seven when your family gave you to the coven. Your parents — scared of you, scared of the truths that spilled from your lips, truths you had no right knowing — sent you off without a second thought, assured by the coven’s leader that they would do right by you, that you’d grow to control your gifts, and could someday return home to Naboo a different girl.

But the control never came. The visions only grew more sporadic when you were under the coven’s care. They cared for you, that much was true — they fed and clothed you, gave you a roof over your head, a bed to sleep in. Someone watched you constantly, and anytime a vision struck, you were to immediately relay what you saw, provide as many details as you could, and on life would go.

Twenty years later, and still your control has not surfaced. But something changed.

The visions showed you the truth. You don’t know what gods are watching over you, if the Maker has any hand in it, but you know what you saw.

From the moment you had been handed over to the coven’s care, they had been poisoning you. Your drinking water sullied with a rare toxin from plants only native to Savareen. The toxin blocked out any control you might have over the visions, leaving you at their mercy. And you weren’t the first — they’d done it to a hundred seers before you. You just happened to have lasted the longest.

Anything you saw that was of use, names you couldn’t make sense of or planets you’d never been to, was cross-referenced across the coven’s expansive database of knowledge, created by the seers’ visions. And anything of true import was fed directly to the Empire.

And if you revealed what you knew, the truth of their game unraveled, they’d sacrifice you in the name of their god, as they had with every seer come before you.

When the vision finally released you, your warden of the day ready to record what you’d seen, you spat out a lie. A pretty one, with as much detail as you could muster that wouldn’t sound suspicious. The lakes on Naboo you once swam in, cool water warmed by the sun, the glint of sunlight off metal. A dream you’d had many times. Your warden seemed to believe it, scribbling away in a journal before sending you on your way.

It was obvious, what needed to be done. If you wanted to live, you needed to leave.

Easier said than done, unfortunately. The coven lived in a commune deep in the Savareen forests. Far from any marketplaces or spaceports. You would be travelling for days just to get away from them, and days longer until you came upon anything of use.

So it became a process — quietly gathering what supplies you could, explaining it away when your warden questioned you, sneaking around in the night while the coven slept. The first time an opportunity presented itself, you grabbed your things and ran, ducking away under the cover of dark.

More than a week, you walked. You rationed the food you’d taken, slept on the hard ground with a knife in your hand. You only slept a few hours at a time, forcing yourself to your feet and travelling another few hours before allowing yourself more rest. The further you got, the better.

You drank only fresh water from the streams, boiled over a fire to make it safe, and as you travelled, something akin to control settled over you like a blanket. The visions still surfaced, peeling away the edges of your mind, but they were easier to push back, easier to hold at bay until you had a moment to entertain them, to watch with a keen eye rather than a startled one.

You saw him on your fifth night. Stopped at the edge of the forest, the desert spread out before you, you rested. The coven elders rarely let anyone past the commune’s borders, though you knew they’d send someone after you. But that night, your visions promised peace, a good night’s sleep beside your small fire, the blanket of stars and moons above you standing vigil.

So you let the vision take over. You saw a helmeted man, his armour having seen better days. Your mind recalled the style of the armour, a holo-pads the coven used to educate you about the galaxy as you grew — or to make your visions more potent, you wondered now.

A Mandalorian.

A torn cloak fluttered behind him, a rifle strapped to his back. As you watched, he held out one gloved hand to you, the other lifting his helmet just enough to expose his mouth — unfairly full lips and a patchy beard. His name whispered on the wind, a voice that sounded like your own.

Din Djarin.

He stepped toward you, hand still outstretched, closer and closer until the warmth of his palm cupped your cheek, his thumb swiping your cheek.

“Safe,” he whispered, the word sinking into your chest with a warmth you couldn’t quite understand.

And then the vision faded. You came back to yourself, to your small fire and your blanket of stars, and without another thought, you slept.

The moment you reached the spaceport — if you could even call it that — you snuck onto the first cargo ship you spotted, tucked yourself in with the crates and hid the best you could. It didn’t matter where it was headed, you just needed out.

The cargo ship brought you to Jabiim, and it was safe, for a time. You stole when you needed to, found the odd merchant willing to pay you for a day’s work, sold the few things you’d taken from the coven for credits. You holed up in a boarding house, flexing your control over your visions like training a muscle.

You waited for your Mandalorian to appear.

He didn’t, but two of the coven’s warriors did.

They couldn’t have known the visions had warned you. Couldn’t have known that you’d booby-trapped every inch of your room in the boarding house. They didn’t know you’d seen not only that they’d come for you, but the how and the when, that you knew how you’d keep yourself alive.

It was bloody business, and had you slipping out the back door before morning came, hiding on the next cargo ship that left the spaceport.

And the cycle continued, until you landed yourself on Batuu.

You haven’t been here long. Black Spire is the biggest outpost you’ve ever seen — not that you’ve seen many to compare it to — and it works to your advantage at first, offering a plethora of trails to lose your pursuer. You know it’s him, knew it was him the moment he stepped up to the group of people listening to that old man preaching about the stories in the stars. The tinted armour, each piece damaged in some way, the pristine helmet. The way he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall was familiar to you, and your chest fluttered with the word he’d murmured to you in your vision.

Safe.

Except, you’re anything but. You can hear the beeping, see the way his hand hovers over his blaster. As soon as you see an opening, you take it, and it’s almost enough.

Until that cart comes out of nowhere — you didn’t see that in any vision — and knocks you on your ass. You give your hands over willingly to the Mandalorian when he hauls you to your feet, letting him cuff you, start to drag you off through the Outpost.

You try to suppress the grin that tugs at your lips. “You took longer than I thought you would, Mandalorian.”

He seems to balk at your claim, his shoulders going tight, not that you can see his expression. But you can imagine those full lips clear as day, the patchy beard, the bare spots the perfect size for your thumb to fit into.

Strength and a certain kind of ferocity seems to roll off of him, pushing every person out of your way as he leads you back toward his ship. Your head throbs with every step, your tongue numb where it got caught between your teeth when the cart hit you. It makes your blanket of control waver, a hole appearing in your armour, and your pulse quickens.

The Mandalorian all but pushes you up the ramp and into his ship. It’s nothing fancy, full of spare parts and rusted metal, but when he steers you toward the back of the ship, you see the carbonite chamber, people of every species encased in black, their expressions pained. Your heart is in your throat, rioting around, making your palms sweat.

“Go,” he tells you, gesturing at the empty platform in front of you, the chamber’s tubes steaming as he flicks a switch.

“P-please,” you manage to squeak out. Your control is gone, replaced with fear and anxiety. You pull against the cuffs, trying to turn your body away from the machine, but it’s too late.

The vision takes over, and everything goes dark.

Din catches you before you hit the ground.

In an instant, you shift from every other pleading bounty he’s shoved into the carbonite chamber, into something more. Your eyes roll back in your head, your body going limp, and it’s a miracle he manages to grab you before your head cracks off the metal. But he does it, grunting with the effort, wincing when he feels the jab of your shoulder in the crook of his elbow.

And he freezes.

Something in his chest goes tight, a taut string that has his ribs in a vice. It whispers that he knows you, that he’s seen your face a million times before even though this is the first day he’s ever set eyes on you. Like a part of his heart calls for yours.

It makes him stumble back a step, jostling you, your body leaning more fully into his. He’s enveloped in your warmth, the scent of you sneaking beneath his helmet, tormenting him.

I know you I know you I know you.

His gloved hand shakes as he brushes the hair from your forehead, looking at your face more fully. He studies you, the slope of your nose and the fan of your lashes. He has half a mind to take his gloves off, to feel your hair slip between his knuckles. The blood in the corner of your mouth makes something like panic shoot through him and he slips his other arm behind your knees, lifting you up and off the ground.

It takes some maneuvering, using his elbow to jab the button that lifts the door to his bed. He lays you out carefully, reaching for the medkit he keeps stashed near his pillow. He pushes back the strange feeling, focusing on the task at hand. He’s dealt with his fair share of head injuries, knows how precarious they can be. And he’s figured it out, over time — the best place to put the bacta patches, what mednog helps more than it hinders.

Din places the last of four patches behind your ear, right along the curve of your neck. You let out a quiet hum, arching your head into his palm, and he inhales deeply.

“I know you,” he murmurs, and doesn’t quite realize he’s said the words out loud until your lashes flutter, eyes shooting open and your body following suit. “Easy,” he commands, grabbing your shoulders, making you flinch. “You’re alright, just don’t move too fast.”

Your breath comes in short bursts, and Din realizes there are tears lining your eyes, one single drop sliding down your cheek. His fingers itch to brush them away, but he resists the urge, releasing you and curling them into fists instead.

Your eyes finally land on him, and the corner of your mouth twitches, like it had in the Outpost.

“Who are you?” he asks. You know her, his mind counters.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you retort, rubbing a hand across the back of your neck. You must find the bacta patch, because your brow furrows. “You…helped me?”

“Don’t think much of it,” he tells you, bracing his hands on his knees and pushing himself up off the cot. “I’m taking you back to Savareen.”

He sees the fear cover you like a veil, watches it pinch at your eyes and tug at your lips. The feeling rears its head, screaming at him that he’s doing wrong, but he beats it back.

“Please,” you say again, the same squeak you’d let out before you passed out in the carbonite chamber. “Please don’t take me back. They’re going to kill me, they’ll—”

“They’re paying me a ridiculous amount of credits to bring you back,” Din answers, cutting you off and turning his back on you. “And I’m gonna do just that.”

“At least listen to my side of the story,” you call after him. You pause a beat, and then— “Din Djarin.”

He can’t remember the last time he heard his name on a woman’s lips. Hearing it on yours is something else entirely.

His mind is at war with itself as he whirls. “How did you—?”

“Let me tell my side,” you reiterate, holding your hands up, surrendering. “And if you still want to take my back and collect your bounty, fine.”

He doesn’t say a word, but leans back on one foot, crossing his arms over his chest. You take it as a yes, leaning back slightly, straightening your back. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and Din clenches his teeth.

“I’m a seer,” you say slowly, eyes darting everywhere except his helmet. “I have visions. Always have, long as I can remember. I was born on Naboo, but my family gave me over to the Savareen coven when I was seven. They raised me, and it was all well and good until my visions told me the truth.”

You don’t continue right away, eyes finally landing on Din’s visor. “What truth?” he prompts.

“They were poisoning me,” you said, your voice shaking. “And the poison took away my control of the visions. A seer should be able to allow the visions to come when they wish, not be constantly at their mercy. They wanted me to see as much as I could, and everything I saw, the elders ran through their databases. Anything useful they fed to the Empire.”

The mention of the Empire makes him jump.

“And I’m not the first. They’ve done this to a hundred seers before me, and killed them all as soon as they figured out the truth. It’s a cycle, one I played into the moment I escaped. They know that I know the truth, and they’ll kill me for it and tell the rest of the coven that I was a willing sacrifice, for the safety of the rest of them.”

A sad laugh passes your lips, and Din’s chest feels hollow.

“And the worst part is: they’ll all believe them. The people that raised me, my friends, if you can call them that. They’ll believe I died willingly, for the greater good.”

You drop your face into your hands and everything in him begs him to comfort you, hold you, keep you safe.

No good will come of this, the rational part of him says. He could ruin his reputation with the Guild, and where would that leave him? Bounty hunting has always been his trade, his talent. He would go back to the Covert, ashamed.

But the sound of your voice has him quickly grasping for compromise. A final kindness, to please the beast in his chest.

“I’ll give you one thing,” he says, and your head shoots up. “One last…wish, I guess. Before I take you back.”

Din swears there are stars in your eyes. “A wish?”

He nods the helmet slightly. “Name it,” he says, “and don’t say setting you free.”

You think for a moment, a million emotions crossing your face before you seem to make your decision. “Naboo,” you say, your expression calm, almost serene. “Take me back to Naboo. I want to swim in the lake, like I did as a child. One last time, before I die.”

You think he’s going to fight you on it. You studied galactic maps with the coven, part of the studies they allowed, and you know just how far it is from Batuu to Naboo — you know it’s about the same distance as Batuu is from Savareen, in the complete opposite direction.

You wait for the no to reach your ears, for the disappointment and acceptance of your lot to settle in. But instead, he just nods again, turns on his heel and disappears from the ship’s hold, leaving you alone, still sitting on the edge of the Mandalorian’s bed.

A moment later, you hear the tell-tale hum of the ship’s engine. Another beat, and his voice sounds through the intercom beside the cot. “Get up here and strap yourself in. Don’t need you getting thrown around down there.”

Swallowing hard, you get to your feet and walking slowly toward the ladder he’d disappeared up. The rungs are cold beneath your hands, a reminder that this isn’t all a dream, or one of your visions.

He doesn’t turn his head when you step into the ship’s cockpit, doesn’t say a word as you settle into the chair in the corner of the space. You fumble with the belt straps, tightening them around you as his gloved hands move across the ship’s dashboard, pressing buttons and turning dials. The engine grows louder as the ship starts to hover, and you brace your hands on the armrests of your seat.

You’re both silent, the entire trip. After the initial jolt through hyperspace, you find the movement relaxing, and you don’t realize you’ve nodded off until you feel a warm hand on your ankle, the Mandalorian having reached for your outstretched foot to nudge you awake.

“The drop out of hyperspace can get a bit rocky around this sector.”

You nod at the warning, ignoring the sharp tug in your stomach at the rumble of his voice through his helmet. Adjusting yourself in the seat, you find yourself staring at the back of his helmet, the curve of the metal. When he turns his head to speak to you, you catch a glimpse of his chin, dipping as he talks.

“Hold on tight.”

The jolt makes you shut your eyes, gripping the armrests as tight as you can. The ship wavers and dips, the hull shaking and groaning with the effort and you bite your lip so hard you taste blood.

“Almost there.”

You don’t open your eyes until the ship has stopped completely, the sound of the engine whirring into shutdown making your breath come easier. When you open them, you’re met with a lush forest, a clearing just large enough for the ship to touch down in.

Naboo.

You’re out of your seat in the flash, nearly tumbling down the ladder back into the hold, desperate to be out and breathing in the fresh air so close you think you could taste it. The Mandalorian follows at a slower pace, reaching around your bouncing form to activate the ramp and open the door.

“Don’t go far,” he tells you, warning lacing his tone. “If you—”

“I won’t leave your sight, Din Djarin,” you tell him, quietly revelling in the way his entire form stills at your use of his name. “I promise, you won’t need to chase after me.”

You leave him to ponder your words, and step out and into the sunlight.

He stands on the Crest’s ramp longer than he should, watching you step out into the clearing. He found a good spot to land, forest wrapping around, a large lake sprawled out before you. The air is warm, fresh, invading his senses.

He watches you take off toward the water, shedding your cloak and top as you go, tossing the fabric aside. The bare expanse of your skin makes his throat go tight, makes the waist of his flight suit feel tighter than normal. As you reach the water’s edge, you crouch to pull off your shoes, straighten to shuck your pants down your legs.

Din only gets a brief glimpse at your bare lower half before you’re sprinting into the water, your laughter loud enough to send birds to the skies, disturbed from their homes in the trees. Beneath the helmet, he smiles.

You swim for hours. Din lets you take your time, your excitement getting the better of him. He tracks your head along the surface of the lake, turns his gaze to the ground when you float on your back. Din calls you back when the sun starts to set, finds something resembling dinner from the crates and boxes in the Crest’s hold. He leaves a blanket at the water’s edge as you swim back, and you eat sitting side by side on the ship’s ramp, your warm body inches from his.

A million questions dance on his tongue, the heat gathering beneath his helmet spurred by the way you lick your fingers clean when you’re done eating, sucking the juice of the fruit he found off your thumb.

How did you know his name?

Why does he feel the way that he does?

Why does he know you?

The sun dips lower, painting the sky a brilliant array of colours, orange into yellow into lavender and back again. The air is still warm, but a cold breeze blows, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Or maybe it’s the way you rise from your seat, the blanket draped around your shoulders, the way the sun covers you in a glow. He watches you make your way back to the water’s edge, but when you’re halfway there, he stands and follows you.

Din pauses when you reach the shore, the blanket dropping into a puddle of fabric near your clothes. You’re backlit by the sun, a silhouette he wants to trace again and again. “You could join me,” you call over your shoulder, stepping further and further into the water. “The water’s warmer than the air, you know.”

“Helmet takes too long to dry out,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I—”

“You could take it off,” you tell him, and his blood spikes. He wants to.

He knows you.

Din looks at you, and you meet him eyes through the visor, whether you know it or not. “I’m a Mandalorian,” he answers, “I don’t—”

“I know what you are, Din Djarin,” you answer, and he wants to record the sound of your voice saying his name, play it on a loop over and over until he has it memorized. “But I’ll be dead this time tomorrow.” You wade out further into the water, until it laps against your chin. “The secret of your face dies with me.”

You turn away from him, disappearing beneath the surface and reappearing further out. The sun is nearly gone, the last dregs of the sunset fading from the sky, the stars and planets taking their rightful place. The water still has a certain glow about it, the sounds of frogs and other night creatures filling the silence of the clearing.

Before he can second-guess himself, he hooks his fingers in the edge of the helmet and takes it off.

“Don’t turn around,” he calls out, reaching up to release the clips holding his cloak to his shoulders. It slips to the ground and he leans down to set the helmet atop it. One by one, he sheds each piece of his armour. The chill in the air makes him shiver, goosebumps rising on his skin as he slides down the zipper on his flight suit. He’s acutely aware of his nakedness, his eyes glued to the back of your head, bobbing in the water.

You listen; you don’t turn around.

He can’t stop his sigh when he steps into the water. You weren’t lying — it’s warmer in the water than out, and he steps quickly, feeling the ground slope beneath his feet as the water rises to his knees, his waist, his chest. Then it evens out, and he realizes you’re standing on tiptoe in the middle of the lake, your arms floating at your sides, head tilted back as you stare up at the sky.

“I’ve seen so many things,” you murmur as he comes to a halt behind you, leaving a good few feet between your body and his. If he lets his eyes dip, he can make out your slightly blurred figure beneath the water’s surface, but he keeps his gaze on the crown of your head, your face upturned to the stars. “So many places and people in the furthest corners of the galaxy. Things I’ll never truly see, but I’ve seen them just the same.” You take a deep breath, raising your arms just enough that your hands break the surface of the water. “And yet, I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as the skies on Naboo. I remember swimming in a lake like this, as a child. Before they sent me away. I remember the stars looking just like this.” Your eyes flutter shut. “Thank you, for bringing me here. You’re a good man, Din Djarin. A better one than you allow the galaxy to believe.”

“How did you know my name?” he asks, the words spilling past his tongue before he can stop them. “How do you know my name?”

“I dreamt of you,” you say simply, as if it’s the most normal thing. You push your hands through your wet hair, and Din’s fingers long to copy you. “A long time ago, if we’re telling truths. Your face has come to me often —first when I was small, when we both were. I saw the destruction of your home world, though I didn’t know what I was seeing. I saw you pledge yourself to the Mandalorians, saw you earn your armour in the Covert. I dreamt of you long before I started running for my life. I always knew you’d be the one to find me, Din. The one to save me.”

It’s guilt, he realizes, that pools in his stomach, propels him forward until there’s barely any space between you. Until you’re close enough that he can hear your sharp inhale as he lifts his hand from the water, lets his dripping fingers trail up the curve of your shoulder, follow the curve of your neck to the space behind your ear, where he’d placed the bacta patch earlier. He’s so close he can feel the shiver that runs like a current through your body.

“Close your eyes,” he tells you, his voice a low rumble, “and keep them closed.”

You nod your head slightly, and he waits a beat before letting his fingers hook around your chin, using that leverage to turn you to face him. Your lips part gently, your breath warm on his skin. He drags the pad of his thumb across your lower lip, presses softly as you release another shaky exhale.

Din hasn’t kissed anyone in a long time. Longer than he cares to admit, and nervousness replaces his guilt as he tilts your face toward his. His hand rounds your head, cupping your skull in his palm, and your hair slides like wet silk through his knuckles.

The first kiss he gives you is soft. It’s tentative, your bottom lip captured between his, a quiet sound rising in your throat as he pulls away. Your lashes flutter slightly, but your eyes don’t open, and your hand reaches up, curling around the back off his neck and pulling him back down to you.

He grunts at the second kiss, your body inching closer to his beneath the water. His other hand finds purchase on your hip, digging his fingers into your flesh, and he swallows your groan, leaning deeper into your kiss, tightening his grip on your hair.

You give as much as you take, your free hand flattening against his ribs, your fingers fit in the spaces between his bones. The kiss is so familiar and so new, all at once. He’s done this a million times, and has never once done it before now.

I know you I know you I know you.

Pleasure shoots through him when your teeth scrape at his lip, your tongue darting out to soothe the ache you’ve left behind. It’s a welcome ache, and his hand drops from your hip to your thigh, hooking around the back of your knee and dragging your thigh over his waist. The sound you let out goes straight to his cock and he drops his lips from yours only to close his mouth around your pulse. You lean into him, both hands around his shoulders now, more soft noises of pleasure meeting his ears as he kisses a line up to the shell of your ear.

“When you dreamt of me,” he murmurs, your head leaning into the sound of his voice, “did you dream of all the ways I’d touch you?”

He accompanies his question with his fingers along the inside of your thigh, toward where he can feel you burning hot, your body warmer than the water that surrounds you both. Your lashes flutter again as you moan, digging your nails into his skin hard enough he’s sure you’ll leave little half-moon marks behind.

“This is better than anything I could ever dream up,” you whisper back, using your grip on him to pull your body flush to his. “I knew you’d find me, but I didn’t know you’d want me, that I’d want you.”

He pulls away, heart racing in his chest. Rejection flickers across your face, pinching your brow, but he grabs your hand beneath the water, squeezing. “Come with me.”

Din leads you out of the water, his grip tight on your hand. You still don’t open your eyes, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as he wraps you in the blanket and then leads you back toward the Crest. He brings you inside, back to his bed, and pushes at your shoulder until you’re sat at the edge.

“Don’t move.”

He head back out into the night, the sun now long gone, and collects his armour and your clothes. His body hums with need, leaving his armour on top of a crate, your clothes and his flight suit tossed into the fresher to deal with later. He closes the ramp, locks the door to the hold, and returns to where you’re still sat, the blanket tucked around you.

“Move back,” he tells you, and you obey instantly, letting the blanket fall away as you slide back on the mattress. Electricity shoots through him at the sight of you, the dim light above his bed a meagre replica of the sunset. He can’t stop himself from reaching out, dragging his hand up the centre of your body until he reaches your chest. He cups the weight of your breast in his palm, swipes his thumb over your nipple and revels in the way it peaks at his touch, the way you shiver as he does it again and again.

“Din,” you murmur, and his eyes nearly roll back in his head.

“Say it again.”

“Din.”

He leans over you, plants a hand on either side of your body as you lean back, your head resting on his pillow. Still, you don’t open your eyes.

He kisses you again, angles his head so his nose brushes along yours. You arch up into him as he settles some of his weight against you, making a home between your spread legs. He can feel how wet you are, the heat nearly radiating against his cock, and he can’t stop himself from rutting against you, burying his face in your neck and fitting his mouth to your pulse once more.

“I want to be inside you,” he murmurs, and your nod is nearly frantic.

“Please.”

Din lifts himself off you, leaning back to kneel between your legs. His palms ride the curve of your spread thighs, thumbs swiping at the crease of your hip. It makes your whole body twitch, and he swipes a finger along your cunt, the wetness coating his finger, and your back arches up off the mattress.

He sucks his finger clean. “Sweet,” he whispers, and you let out a soft whine, a whimper.

Hands dragging down your legs again, he curls his fingers around your calves and lifts your legs until your knees are hooked around his hips. He feels your ankles cross at the small of his back and leans forward slightly, taking his hard cock in hand, shuddering at his own touch.

“Open your eyes,” he tells you, hearing the hitch in your breath as he drags his tip through your wetness, “the moment I’m inside you. You understand?”

You don’t answer at first, writing against the blankets, but when he taps his cock lightly against your clit, you shudder. “I understand.”

Dragging down through your folds, he notches his cock at your entrance, pleasure making sparks shoot across his vision as he moves his hips ever so slightly. He reaches beneath you, both hands at your lower back, and lifts your hips off the mattress, holding you aloft as he drives into you.

Your eyes shoot open, and you see his face. His whole face.

And Gods above, he’s more handsome than you ever could have imagined.

Every moment since you stepped off the ship has been more than you could have dreamed, but seeing his face, studying those dark eyes as he pushes himself inside you, it’s everything.

His brows knit together as he forces himself deeper. Your body jolts with the movement and you bear down, tightening yourself around him. It makes him tip forward slightly, close enough that you can wrap your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through his dark hair.

The lips you remember, the patchy beard that scratches your skin when he turns his head and places a kiss against your wrist. His nose is different than you pictured, more hawkish with a scar cutting across the bridge. There are other scars too, littered across his chest and shoulders, a few even snaking down his front. You want to trace them all, memorize every ridge and dip.

He gives you a particularly hard thrust, and your vision goes white with pleasure. Your thighs quake with the intensity of it, feeling him drag against that sweet spot deep inside you. You tighten your grip on him, clenching your legs around his waist and keeping him where you want him.

“You feel…” he trails off, his lips parting as his hips roll into you over and over and over again. “I can’t…”

His groan spurs you on, lifting your hips off the mattress to meet his thrusts. The friction between your bodies grows more and more intense, his pelvis rubbing against your clit in a perfect rhythm. You can feel the pleasure growing, coiling at the base of your spine, and when he drops his head to your chest and wraps his lips around your nipple, you’re done for.

Your release rattles through you, seeming to draw Din’s from him. You shudder together, feeling the warmth of him spread through the deepest parts of you. He plants his head on your chest, hot breath fanned across your skin as you both move through it, limbs twitching and soft moans filling the air. He tries to pull himself from you too soon and you whine, refusing to loosen your hold on him.

Eventually, you let him go, instantly regretting your decision when the welcome weight of him moves off of you. He disappears for a time, but returns with a damp cloth from the fresher, and cleans between your legs before letting you move.

He doesn’t tell you to close your eyes again. You leave to use the fresher and when you return, he’s laid out on the cot, laying slightly to the side so there’s space for you. His eyes lock on yours as you slide into the bed, watching as he lifts the blankets for you and tucks you against his side.

Sleep seems to come easily for Din; you aren’t so lucky.

He wakes to an empty bed.

The hum of the night echoes through the hold, and Din scrambles out of bed when he realizes the door is open, that the cool night air is pouring in, and that you’re gone.

A million different possibilities flit through his mind; have you seen what happens? he wonders.

He pulls his underclothes on and finds his blaster, stepping slowly onto the Crest’s ramp. The clearing is the same as you left it, the only difference is the water is now as still as anything, the moon perfectly reflected in the surface.

You’ve left an obvious trail, and he tracks you easily through the forest. It’s a good distance from the ship, and when he finally finds you — and the altar before you — he hides in the brush, listening.

He doesn’t know what gods the carvings in the stone depict, and he wonders if you do, or if you’re just talking to anyone who might be listening.

“It’s not fair,” you say, your voice loud enough that he can hear the waver in it. You sink to your knees before the carvings, your hands dragging on the stone as you stare up at the sky. “I can’t see what comes next now. I don’t know what he’ll choose. I never asked for this!”

Din holds his breath, wondering if the sky might cloud over at your shouting, that thunder might rumble in response to your plea.

“Why lead me to him only to put my fate directly into his hands? Why allow him to bring me to life, only to snuff me out?”

The guilt returns, turning his blood black, making his mouth run dry.

“Is anybody even listening to me? Does anyone even care?”

I care, he nearly shouts in response, but the guilt ties his tongue in knots.

“I don’t want to die!”

Your hands curl into fists, slamming against the stone wall, flattening and your nails dragging along the carvings. Your shoulders shake with sobs, and half of him wants to run to you, the other half wants to disappear.

He returns to the Crest, the guilt crawling up into his chest and making a home there, a rival to the beast that demands he keep you close. They spar between his ribs, demanding to be heard.

Only he can decide which one he’ll listen to.

Din is right where you left him, when you return to the ship. Sprawled on his back, his arm outstretched where you’d laid your head. You close the ramp and the door, press the buttons you’d watch him press to lock the ship, and climb carefully back into the bed. Your tears are still wet on your cheeks as you fit yourself against his side. His arm curls around you, holding you closer, and fresh tears fall.

You wake up alone. Your body aches in a good way, your limbs groaning as you find your clothes. The ship hums, and it takes you a moment to realizes you’re moving. Not through hyperspace, just flying.

When you climb into the cockpit, he’s sat in his chair, all his armour back in place. He doesn’t acknowledge as you sink down into the same seat. You force your eyes to move away from his helmet, to the world outside the ship, and your heart feels as though it may shatter in your chest.

Savareen.

It’s good to know, in a way, that Din Djarin is a man of his word. You misjudged him, it’s true, but you can’t fault him. He’s doing his job. He hasn’t seen what you’ve seen.

Maybe not all your visions come true.

The spot where he lands the ship is not one you recognize. You’re far from the coven’s commune, that much you know for sure. As the engine’s hums die out, Din comes and stands before you, the same cuffs he’d used on you on Batuu in his hands.

You give your hands to him willingly. You won’t fight him, if this is your fate.

You don’t know what comes next; you haven’t seen it.

He’s silent as he leads you out of the ship and onto the planet’s surface. The air is that same cloying heat you remember, clinging to your skin and making it crawl.

As you descend the ramp, you see a familiar face — one of the coven’s elders, flanked by two of the same warriors who had come for you on Jabiim. The same man who had come to collect you from your family on Naboo, all those years ago. Who lied to your family and said you’d be in good hands. Who lied to you your entire life, forcing you to be at the mercy of your visions.

Bile rises in your throat as you draw closer, Din’s hand tight on your shoulder, your bound hands limp in front of you. “So good to see you again, my dear,” the elder starts, and everything in you screams at you to run away, but you never get the chance.

And you don’t need to.

As the elder reaches for you, Din draws his blaster and fires a single shot. The man drops to the cracked desert floor, a smoking scorch mark in the middle of his forehead. The warriors lunge forward, drawing their swords, but Din produces another blaster and moves in front of you, his stance protective, both barrels aimed at the warriors.

“Take another step, and you die,” he nearly growls, and your fingers curl around the fabric of his cloak. The warriors’ weapons clatter to the dirt. “Go back to your coven, and give your elders this warning: if they do not stop harming the seers, they will all share the same fate as him. She leaves with me, and if they send anyone after her, they share the same fate as him.”

With a nod, the warriors turn tail, sprinting off into the desert, leaving you alone with your Mandalorian. He turns to you, unlocks the cuffs from around your wrists. Your mind reels, trying to catch up with what’s happened, what it all implies.

“You…”

Din removes his helmet, holds it against his hip as he leans in, two fingers beneath your chin as he leans in to kiss you. You sink into it, elation seeping through your body, cupping his scruffy jaw in your hands, your thumbs fitting into the patches in his beard.

The kiss feels like a promise, like an oath.

“I’ll take you back to Naboo,” he tells you when you break apart only to breathe. “You can go back to your family, back to—”

“What if I want to stay with you?”

The corner of his lips twitch, and you lean in to kiss it. “Then you’ll stay with me.”

The moment you step foot back on the Crest, you freeze. Your gaze goes out of focus, your body a lead weight against his. Fear floods Din’s body and he grabs you, worrying you’re going to pass out again, that he didn’t do enough with the bacta, that you’re—

You come back to yourself quickly, blinking hard and gulping down air. “Nevarro,” you tell him, your voice tight. “We need to go to Nevarro, to the Guild.”

“I can’t do that,” he tells you. “I just broke my contract by not delivering you to them. They won’t—”

“Shh,” you hush him, two fingers pressed against his lips. “Listen to me, Din. We need to go to Nevarro. Karga will believe you when you tell him what happened, and he has a new bounty for you. An important one.”

His brows lift. “You had a vision? You saw Karga?”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “I saw much more than Karga,” you reply, your breath slowing. “I saw your son.”

the end

// TTWD track list //

#my fics #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff #din djarin headcanon #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fluff #the mandalorian headcanon #the mandalorian fanfiction #bangathon2024

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jensettermandu · 2 years ago

Text

oxytocin - jennie kim

genre; smut with some plot, fluff by the end

pairing; jennie x g!p reader (enemies to lovers)

content; oral (reader receiving), fingering (jennie receiving), degrading/name-calling, p in v :D

description; Something you and Jennie always did was hate each other, bickering every chance you two got, not caring about how others' ears fell off from it. Although, you two get put in a situation where you both need to try not to kill each other.

words; 13k+

masterlist

You shoved Eunwoo into the lockers with force, the guy hitting them and actually creating a dent, making you both stop and look behind him. "It's either that I am hella strong or you are just getting fat, buddy." You commented, your best friend turning back to look at you seeing the shit-eating grin on your face he decides to shove you back into the busy hallway. It was one thing when you pushed him since you pushed him into the lockers while he pushed you into a crowd of people. "Watch the fuck out, Y/n." Taehyung grumbled out as you got pushed into him, you looked at the guy. "Shut the fuck up Taehyung, no cares about you anyway." You said and the guy huffed as he continued to walk with his friend, he was one of your friends so it was ok to be mean.

"You have no chill Eunwoo just pushing me into a crowd of people." You huffed out and he gave you a smile. "Who told you to call me fat?" He asked and you pinched his side, making him squirm away. "Was that a little fat roll? Getting big are we?" You asked, knowing that he had nothing against it since you two were super close and always joked like that, he would call you fat and you would do the same, he would call you ugly and you would do the same and so on. There were no feelings getting hurt since if that would be the case one of you would say something. "The only thing big here is that attitude of yours." He bit back and you were just about to shove him back into that locker only for him to push your hands away and land his hands on your shoulders giving you a harsh shove instead of you shoving him.

This time you weren't lucky enough to get pushed into one of your friends or some random, but the biggest bitch you could possibly stumble upon in this entire universe. Her feelings of hate were mutual. The second your back collided with her side she pushed you right back the way you came from with much annoyance. "Get your herpes-infested body away from me!" Jennie yelled after shoving you away from her and you turned to look at her, the girl standing with a pissed expression, a scowl on her face as she fixed the purse hanging on her shoulder with the cross C's on it. "The only infested thing around here is that big mouth of yours with the yapping virus." You bit back and her eyes went up to you, looking away from her baby pink purse, her eyes sharp as she locked gazes with you although you weren't one to falter.

Jennie clenched her jaw in irritation as she couldn't even stand the thought of you.

"At least I'm not fucking braindead." She huffed out.

"Well...That's debatable." You commented and heard Eunwoo stifle a laugh behind you and you nudged the guy so he wouldn't laugh.

"What's debatable is you still not being in special ED class." Jennie said and her close friend Nayeon stood behind her just like Eunwoo stood behind you.

The two are used to the everyday bickering between you two that always happened. Everyone at school was used to it. No one knew why you two hated each other so much, you two just simply did even if there was no actual bad history between you two. You were the school's popular delinquent, known for that while Jennie was a popular kid, you assume mostly because of her family status because there was no way that it was because of her personality as it seemed quite rotten from your point of view. It's not like she was mean to everyone or a bully, the only person who she was a bitch to in their face was you and it was kind of the same with you.

Before you could say much more the bell rang and pissed about not getting to say the last word as Jennie started to walk, you tripped the girl for your own satisfaction. Jennie stumbled forward but quickly regained her balance as you had a big grin on your face until she without any hesitation turned around with her baby pink Chanel bag swinging towards you, covering and it hit the back of your head instead of your face. Groaning as the metal cross C's collide right with the back of your head. "You fucking bitch." You grumble out as she flips you off and walks away with Nayeon as if she didn't almost fall face first and then didn't assault you with her purse after.

That was just your first encounter with Jennie today.

The only reason why you were in this art class was that your friend Chaeyoung forced you to join it. It wasn't that you were bad at art, you would just prefer to do something else than sit with a canvas in front of you and paint whatever you were told to paint. Looking past the canvas that was in front of you. There sat Jennie very invested not in her half-finished painting but in her phone, you took the paintbrush and glanced at Chaeyoung beside you.

"Can I borrow that pink paint?" You asked her and she shrugged, taking the paint palette and holding it out for you to take the pink paint, watching you scoop up as much as possible onto your brush. Thanking her she went back and you moved your stool to get a better view of Jennie who was in front of you.

Taking aim, you whistled to catch her attention which seemed to work, Jennie flinched in her seat the second a big splat of paint flew right at her face. She stood up so abruptly that her stool flew back, grabbing everyone's attention. Her phone was discarded to the side as you watched her face turn red from anger, her jaw clenched as she with closed eyes wiped away the paint, only smearing it on her face and you finally started to laugh. "Jennie and Y/n-." The teacher got cut off as Jennie had finally charged up and her outburst came.

"You fucking idiot! I will fucking kill you!" Jennie yelled at you and you widened your eyes as she grabbed onto the pair of scissors that were laying beside Lisa. Jennie charged towards you and you grabbed onto your canvas, quickly holding it out when she swung the scissors your way and you realised that this girl was serious about killing you. The pair of scissors went right through the canvas.

"You ruined my makeup, you dickhead!" Jennie continued as the scissors fell to the floor with the canvas.

"If anything I only fixed it...You look more like your true self now, you know a clown." You said, adding fuel to the fire.

"Hey, that's mine." Minho beside you complained when Jennie took his colour palette and yanked it at you when you said that, the paint splattering everywhere and Chaeyoung beside you becoming a victim of Jennie too as some got on her shirt, the colour palette landing on your pants.

"Y/n and Jennie!" The teacher finally raised his voice at the childish behaviour coming from the two high-school seniors.

You stop as you with a clenched jaw remove the colour palette from your crotch to see a big colourful stain on your black pants, a mix of red, white and blue.

"Great, now I look like I have the American flag on my crotch." You complained, letting the palette fall to the floor, the mess getting bigger and the teacher angrier.

"Shut the fuck up." Jennie snapped and the teacher slammed his hands on his table.

"That's detention to the both of you after school, you two will stay and clean this entire classroom!" He angrily let out.

Soon P.E came and Jennie was one of those girls that always had an excuse for not being able to participate and would sit on the bench the whole school year and somehow still get a P.E grade by the end of the semester by picking up a ball and then throwing it a foot in front of her, her friends praising her together with the teacher. You would like to assume that she sucked off the P.E teacher for that grade, but the man was gay and married so you assumed that she paid him as she could swim in her family's money as Scrooge McDuck did. She was that rich.

After that art class, you had to change into the pair of sweats you had packed for P.E and luckily for you, this was your last class for today so you wouldn't have to walk around in them for the rest of the day as that wouldn't feel too fresh. Sitting on the wooden floor of the court as you stretched with Eunwoo on your left and Wonho on your right, sitting in the middle of those two big guys as you were a lanky fucker, tall (5'9) and skinny.

"Did you really get detention?" Eunwoo asked in a hushed tone and you sighed.

"Yeah."

"Awh come on, we were supposed to hang out after school." Wonho complained and you shrugged.

"Well, I will be spending it with Jennie, the girl who tried to stab me with scissors in art class." You said, not actually feeling safe doing this as you looked up in front of you to see Jennie sitting in all her glory on the bench.

The girl was for sure beautiful and you were aware of that, her personality sucked but that was probably because she was a privileged kid that had gotten everything she wanted her whole life. Always quick to judge people simply because of what they wore for example, although she never went up to someone and straight up bullied them. She did that from a distance, talking about whatever person would pass her and her friends, quickly exchanging looks with her group of friends before getting to judging.

You mostly liked to mind your own space that you were in with your friends and if someone got into that space you would quickly give them a look or say something so they would scurry away. You were the school delinquent and people were usually quick to judge you for that so you just lived up to their judgement instead.

"You had it coming for flicking that paint in her face...Poor Chaeyoung became a victim of Jennie's wrath caused by you." Eunwoo said and you looked away from Jennie and at the guy before letting your gaze fall on Chaeyoung who now had her gym shirt on, sitting with Jisoo and stretching.

"I apologised to her and to be fair Jennie was the one who had it coming for hitting me with her purse, I think I lost brain cells when that metal logo hit me." You grumbled out and winced internally since whenever you would touch that spot it still hurt. Wonho and Eunwoo both snickered and you sent both of them a look.

"I doubt that it's possible to lose more brain cells if you have none left." Wonho laughed out and you kicked the guy's shin, making him wince in pain.

Ignoring what the P.E teacher was talking about as you turned to Eunwoo and punched him too as he was about to comment too.

"Y/n, you don't seem to be paying too much attention to class either way so how about you go and help Jennie with getting the volleyball balls from the storage for tomorrow morning as the team has early practice." The teacher said and you stopped at that, he couldn't be serious.

You could see in the corner of your eye Jennie already rolling her eyes in annoyance as you got up without protest not needing much more detention after school than what you already had. Looking at Eunwoo and Wonho with a scowl before walking away as the teacher handed you the keys to the storage room.

You walked ahead, Jennie following right behind you as you pushed the big door open and walked out of the court.

"You ruined my favourite pair of pants, you know." You grumbled out still pissed about your favourite pair of black pants being ruined by paint.

Jennie scoffed and you glanced beside you where she was walking by your side with the distance between you two.

"You can buy a new pair, you ruined my makeup and I had to redo it." Jennie replied.

"Or you could buy me a new pair for ruining them, you have the money...plus ruining someone's makeup and pants are two different things- like you said you fixed your makeup." You explained with your hands in your pocket, looking in front of you as you walked through the empty school hallways.

"I don't do charity cases and plus you would never catch me in one of those cheap stores." You gave her a distasteful look at that, you weren't serious about her buying you a new pair but she didn't have to go as far as call you a charity case before judging the places you could afford to buy clothes at.

You took out the keys from your pocket as they jingled, approaching the door leading to the storage that should have the volleyball balls stored.

"Thank you for rubbing your wealth into my face and I wasn't serious about it either." You spoke as you unlocked the door before pushing it open and going inside after finding the light, walking into the small storage.

"You're welcome and I know how to read sarcasm but I still like to put it out there." Jennie let out with sass and you scoffed before looking back at her as she stepped inside just looking around the small space.

"Whatever, brat." You said and pushed her aside to push the door closed as the balls seemed to be behind the door.

"Who are you calling a brat?" Jennie angrily asked as she never liked being called a brat, she despised being called one because she wasn't one, not in her opinion at least.

"Definitely not you." You said and spotted the net with balls.

"I thought so." Jennie firmly stated and you chuckled at that.

"I thought you knew how to read sarcasm, brat." You said and turned to her.

Jennie looked confused for a second before a scowl appeared on her face and you knew that she caught on. Your eyes widened as she gave you a harsh shove, making you stumble back and trip over the net with balls. Reaching for the first thing to not fall you grabbed onto Jennie's wrists. A squeak left Jennie who definitely wasn't the best choice to grab onto as the girl seemed to lack strength and only fell with you as you closed your eyes embracing yourself for the impact.

You groaned as you landed on the bunch of soccer balls that were there too, Jennie falling right on top of you. Opening your eyes you were met by soft darkness.

"Am I in heaven or hell?" You mumbled out confused.

Jennie quickly with wide eyes pushed herself up to sit when she felt your hot breath hit her cleavage as her chest landed right on your face.

You bit back a smile seeing that the soft darkness was her boobs in your face as the girl was straddling your waist.

"I guess it was heaven after all." You mumbled to yourself with a smug look on your face, Jennie's cheeks getting coloured together with her ears at what you said as she managed to hear it.

"You fucking perv!" Jennie exclaimed and slapped you quickly.

"The fuck! You were the one who pushed me." You complained and cupped your cheek, bucking your hips and pushing the girl off of you as she wasn't moving fast enough.

You sat up on the floor and caressed your cheek as the girl stood up, still angry as she fixed her clothes furiously.

"You fucking molested me! You fucking freak." You frowned at that and looked at Jennie.

Jennie stopped for a second at the flash of hurt in your eyes, knowing that she didn't watch her tongue.

"That's low of you, Jennie-" You mumbled, looking down as being called a freak wasn't something pleasant as you had been called one ever since you were a kid until your 16th birthday when you changed schools at last which is this school. Growing up and getting hormonal your classmates didn't find you a freak anymore but found it attractive instead and cool, girl's instead of avoiding you would throw themselves at you. Although that didn't mean that it still didn't hurt you when you were called one. It wasn't your choice to be born with a dick.

"And I didn't molest you! It was an accident that was your fault, to begin with!" You exclaimed and Jennie let out a huff at that, with a roll of her eyes and a judging look she turned around and yanked at the door handle to leave.

It got quiet...

She yanked at it again.

Nothing.

With that she started yanking and pulling on the door handle, trying to open the door that did not want to open at all. You frowned and looked at the girl who was struggling to open a door, wondering if she was incompetent and did not know how to open doors since she probably had people do it for her ever since she was born.

"Are you that fucking stupid that you don't even know how to open a door?" You commented and she stopped pulling on it with a frustrated sigh, turning to you with her usual scowl that only you seemed to fall victim to. "I am not you moron, it's not opening...try for yourself." Jennie let out and you got up from the floor, wiping your hands on your sweats as Jennie stepped aside to give you space in the already small room.

"You just pull-." You cut yourself off as you pulled but nothing happened, frowning you tried to push instead, but still nothing. Bumping your shoulder into the door as you tried to force it open. "Now who's stupid?" Jennie asked, seeing that you couldn't open the door either. You let go of the handle and took in a deep breath because there was no way that you were stuck together in this cramped room with someone like Jennie. Your ears were bound to fall off if no one would come and open the door for you two before gym class would end.

You inspected the door and saw that you needed the keys to open it from the inside. "Oh, we just need the keys." You quickly stuck your hands into your pockets, but the only thing you felt was your cardholder. You looked up at Jennie who was leaning against the wall and waiting for you to open the door, her fingers fiddling with the strap of her purse.

Clearing your throat nervously as you did not have the keys. "Did you perhaps remove the key from the door before entering after me?" You questioned and looked as her face fell and anger was boiling inside her eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me! You didn't remove the key!?" Jennie angrily let out and you watched as her hands clenched onto the strap of her purse.

"I thought you would do it, you bimbo!" You defended although you knew that you should have removed them since you were the one who inserted them.

The word bimbo must have ticked Jennie off a lot because the purse swung right your way again.

"Don't. Call. Me. A. Fucking. Bimbo." She stated with each hit as you covered your head, trying to move away as she landed hits on your body with her baby pink Chanel purse.

"Goddamnit!" You complained and managed to push the purse away at last making her stop. You grumbled to yourself and fixed your hoodie that she messed up, taking a safety step away from her before leaning against the wall and sliding down to sit on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Jennie asked and you shrugged. "I am not going to stand and wait-" You glanced at your wristwatch before continuing to explain. "P.E ends in 40 minutes and that's when they will come here." You stated and tried to busy yourself with something to make the time pass faster, grabbing onto the small baseball ball that layed on the floor not too far from you as it had rolled from its place after your and Jennie's fall.

Jennie sighed and looked around the small and cramped room before moving over to the corner and sitting on top of the storage drawer that contained new volleyball jerseys.

It got quiet as you rolled the ball around on the floor.

Glancing up at Jennie who opened her purse and took out her phone, shaking your head slightly as she tried to call whoever it was she was trying to call...there was obviously no signal here as the room was very isolated and in the furthest corner of the whole school.

The girl gave up on trying to call one of her friends for help and with a grumble opted on playing games on it while the two of you were waiting.

You glanced at your clock to see that it had been 45 minutes already, P.E ended five minutes ago and you knew that no one walked in this hallway, but the P.E teacher would definitely come here to get his keys back.

Jennie was still seated on top of the storage drawer with her phone and you were still playing with the baseball although it was starting to get boring.

"What are you playing?" You questioned and looked at Jennie who glanced up from her phone at you, sending you a look, obviously not up for having any conversation with you. "Mind your business." She only replied and you heaved a sigh, picking up the baseball in your hand and thinking about throwing it in her face, but you wouldn't do that since that would hurt her...and hurt you even more since she surely would start beating you with that purse again.

You opted on just looking over Jennie who was wearing a black skirt with black pantyhose, a baby pink v-neck shirt with the small Chanel logo on her cleavage that was barely visible since it was the same colour as the shirt, black low doc martens and the damned purse to match her outfit and a hairband holding back her perfect brown hair.

You already knew that you found her extremely hot, but that was it- her personality was rotten and very unattractive which prevented you from ever actually hitting on her. Rolling your eyes at your own thoughts and averting your gaze at the door that hadn't been touched by anyone from outside yet.

"What if no one comes?" You stated, putting the possibility out there and that seemed to get Jennie out of her focused bubble. She looked at the time on her phone to see that it had been 15 minutes since all classes had ended and you two hadn't heard a single person even pass by the door.

"Then you are fucking dead because it's all your fault since you are a dimwitted fucker." Jennie snapped, not liking the idea of being stuck in this room much longer. "Same with detention, you always ruing everything for me." Jennie said angry with the fact that she also was supposed to have detention right now although that wouldn't happen now that she was stuck here instead.

"Hey, hey, hey...how is detention my fault?" You asked since in your opinion it was her fault.

"Because you flicked fucking paint in my face!"

"That's cause you hit me with that pitiful purse of yours."

"Watch it! It's Chanel."

"Should have gotten a bigger one 'cause that one isn't nearly big enough to fit all of that attitude in it."

"You surely have an ego way too big for the prick that you have in your pants."

"Your mother should have swallowed to spare everyone your aura of idiocy." At that Jennie gasped and reached for the first thing in sight, throwing the dodgeball at you as you shield yourself, the ball bouncing off you and you grabbed it throwing it right back at her. The girl slapped it away from her before it could hit her and reached another throwing it at you, hitting the top of your head.

"Yours regrets that she didn't." Jennie fired back and huffed, getting off the drawer and walking up the door, banging on it, as she couldn't stay in there for another second or she would totally flip.

"Someone open this fucking door!" She screamed and banged on the door, getting to yanking on the handle as you rolled your eyes at what she was doing. No one would open that door for you two, not until someone would need to get something from this room and that would be tomorrow morning when the volleyball team has practice.

Instead of wasting your energy on what Jennie was doing, you got up, ignoring her banging on the door and trying of yelling for help. You sighed and walked over to the three shelving racks that stood beside each other that were filled with stuff. Kicking the few balls to the side that were in the way and rummaging through them to maybe find something interesting, not minding the few things that you knocked over and fell to the floor. This caught Jennie's attention, who gave up on trying to get someone to hear her as most people had already left the school property and she looked at what you were doing.

She leaned against the door with a small pout from the anger and frustration this and you were causing her as there was only this much she could handle of you every day and today the limit had been crossed. Jennie never knew why the two started to bicker in the first place, but you two just did and it had been going on since you moved to this school- two years now. Well, she knew that she liked having your attention on her and what better way to get it if not from being a bitch...Seeing you all frustrated and angry because of her sent dopamine to her brain...oxytocin too...but that was something only she would know and no one else.

Your fingers stumbled upon a permanent marker and you knew that it would be enough to occupy you for a few hours since you were the type of person that could get entertained by an empty paper roll. Jennie watched as you turned and removed the cap from the marker with your teeth and walked over to the wall where you sat earlier before sitting down and busying yourself with doodling on the wall.

"Nooo." Jennie whined when her phone battery died only managing to catch a glimpse of the time before it died. School ended three hours ago- it was 7 pm now- and you two were still sitting in the cramped room, Jennie had managed to make herself comfortable on top of that drawer and you were still on the floor. None of you uttered a single word to each other for three hours as it seemed like you two only knew how to bicker.

She discarded her phone beside her and sighed in boredom, her eyes falling on you to see you still doodling on that wall- you had taken occasional breaks between. At this point, you had drawn everything you know how to draw. She looked at the things you had done on the wall and tried to come up with something to say as she would die out of boredom if none of you would say a word.

You got snapped out of it and looked beside you to see Jennie crouching down next to you, double-checking to see if you were tripping or not. There was no way that Jennie was right beside you without having any malicious intentions. Her expensive perfume invaded your space as she always smelled so feminine that her smell and looks slightly made up for that rotten attitude.

"How do you draw this?" Jennie asked and pointed at the 'Cool S' graffiti sign that everyone always did on every surface possible although Jennie had no clue how to do it. She had wanted to learn ever since she first saw it which was when she was still a kid. You looked at her slightly baffled, wondering why she wasn't throwing insults your way or hitting you with her purse.

"What?" You questioned to make sure you heard her right, Jennie rolled her eyes and pointed at it again, your eyes following her finger. "Teach me how to draw this." Jennie demanded, of course without a, please.

"It's really easy." You said as you shifted as you were sat cross-legged. "You just- draw six lines...connect this with this...then these too and lastly these and...done." You showed her step by step and finished it, looking at Jennie who was still crouched beside you, a small frown on her face. Sitting this close to her and with peace was different and it let you look closer at her features and she didn't look as dangerous as when she was angry.

"Here, try." You said and carefully held the marker out for her, Jennie looked away from the wall and at the marker, taking it from you. You leaned a bit closer to her to look at her doing it. Watching her do the first step and then moving to the second one. "No- this one goes to this." You corrected and pursed your lips when she scowled. "That's what I am doing." She huffed out, mad at you for correcting her. "I know what I am doing, Y/n." She continued and went back to the S that she was doing wrong. "If you knew then you wouldn't ask me how to draw it, Jennie." You commented and tilted your head at her attempt as it didn't look right at all.

"It's stupid." Jennie concluded and dropped the marker after failing, she was about to stand back up but you grabbed her forearm gently and pulled her back down. "It's not...come on, it was your first try and you're already giving up." You said and tried to hand her back the marker, now wanting to teach her how to do it. Jennie looked at the marker with raised eyebrows and then at you. "It is stupid...it's just an S." Jennie said in distaste as she never did anything twice if she failed on the first try.

"I know, but it's a stupid S that you wanted to learn...Why give up after just trying once?" You questioned and used your free hand to open her hand, placing the marker in her dainty hand before making her hold it. Jennie was wondering why you were this patient with her if she herself wasn't, she always gave up after her first try if it failed. "Fine." She gave in and you smiled.

She did the first lines and then looked at you for you to explain what to do further. "Connect this one to this..." You pointed and she followed your instructions.

"See, it wasn't that difficult." You said as she managed to do it on her second try. Jennie tilted her head at the S she did and then looked at the ones you did. "Yours look better than mine...Why?" You stifled your laugh when Jennie's head snapped your way. "Is my failure funny to you, Y/n?" She seriously asked with a threatening voice and you shook your head with a smile. "No...It's not that- it's- it's not important." You let out since you only found the way she asked it cute, but saying that out loud would not happen. "Just try again and it will get better with time." You said instead and watched as she shifted on her feet a little.

"Why won't you sit down?" You questioned confused since it couldn't be comfortable to be crouched down like she was. Jennie rolled her eyes at what you asked as she started her new S, trying to make it look better this time. "Because I have a skirt on Y/n, the floor isn't something I would like to sit on without jeans on." She stated the obvious since she only had thin pantyhose on. Suddenly you were in sort of a dilemma and contemplated whether or not you should offer her your hoodie since you had your t-shirt under. One time wouldn't hurt...just because you and she always bickered didn't mean that you were a complete ass.

You pulled off your hoodie while she was busy perfecting her S, taking it off just as she finished and the girl looked at you. "Here...uhm, you can sit on it...unless you don't want to." You awkwardly offered her and Jennie looked, a bit taken aback as never in a million years did she think that this type of generosity would happen between you two. About to just as awkwardly retreat your hand while cursing yourself out in your head, Jennie took it from your hold. Without knowing what to say to you, she placed it on the floor before sitting down on it. Jennie cleared her throat and went back to the wall as you watched her try another one.

Seeing that she was invested in doodling on the wall now, you stood up and walked back to the shelving racks. Just when you were about to look, your eyes landed on the paper that had written tomorrow's date on it as it layed on top of a box. Being curious you walked over to the box and dragged it away from the wall before removing the paper from it and opening the box. It was water and snacks for the volleyball team that had a game tomorrow after school. "Do you want water and crisps?" You questioned Jennie as you crouched down beside the box, not giving a single fuck about the volleyball team because you weren't about to starve for their sake.

Jennie hummed confused and you dragged the cardboard box over to her, where you had been sitting the whole time. You slumped down beside her in a v position with the box between your legs as you looked down at it. "Here." You said and took out bottled water, handing one over to her. Jennie took it as she reached for the cap of the marker, closing it to not get her clothes dirty. You both sat by the corner so you leaned against the wall where the corner connected as she sat leaning against the other wall, being a good two feet away from each other.

You took out water for yourself and placed it beside you before taking out a bag of crisps. "Do you want some?" You questioned Jennie who was drinking some of the water you had handed her, she shook her head and you frowned slightly. It wasn't like you cared, well as a decent human being you somewhat cared, right? But that was cause you were a human being and nothing else. "Why not? Aren't you hungry?" You asked her quite baffled as you opened the mini pack and went straight to eating the crisps since you were starving. "I am, but...it's not part of my diet." She murmured and looked to the side, her eyes gazing around the storage room, pretending it was interesting since she wasn't used to you being generous and somewhat caring towards her.

You laughed at that although groaned in pain when the heel of her doc marten collided with your shin. "Why are you laughing you dickhead?" Jennie asked pissed as she clutched onto the plastic bottle in her hand. You rubbed your shin. "Because you are stupid." You replied and quickly moved your leg away when she was about to hit you again. "How?" She asked with a scowl. "Who's here to see if you are following your diet or not? No one. And I certainly do not care...but suit yourself and starve." You said and continued to finish the mini bag of crisps before crumpling it up and flicking it away somewhere on the floor. Grabbing onto another one and opening it while Jennie crossed her arms and leaned against the wall behind her.

"Damn these are good." You moaned out on purpose just to get on her nerves and watched as her nostrils flared from the pissed exhale. Taking a sip of your water before eating more and chewing a bit louder and watched as her jaw moved in anger at your behaviour. "Oh, these barbecue ones are delicious...good thing you don't want any, more for me that way." You said and reached for a new pack, taking it and opening it, using your hand and trying your best to make the delicious smell of the barbecue crisps reach her proximity. Jennie groaned at how annoying you were and finally spoke up. "Why do you even fucking care if I eat or not...fuck off, Y/n." She let out pissed because not even her closest friends cared enough to make her eat.

"Because...we are staying here until tomorrow morning and you will feel uncomfortable if you sit hungry." You rolled your eyes and sighed. It was almost 9 pm. "Plus, it's not like I do it because I care specifically about you, but because I am a decent human being, but you wouldn't know that now would you...You only associate with rich people in the end so why would you ever get to know me...plus I am a freak aren't I?" You let out and took out a new packet and threw it in her lap before going back to your opened one.

Jennie licked her lips as she looked down at the small bag of crisps on her lap, pouting slightly as she felt really bad for calling you a freak earlier. With a sigh, she took the bag of crisps and opened it. "I don't only associate with rich people." She corrected while still keeping her gaze on the bag of lays. You looked up at her, watching her just looking into that bag as if she was actually contemplating if she should or not eat. "The barista at Starbucks doesn't count, Jennie." You said and watched as she, at last, ate some, rolling her eyes at you while being at it. "You don't know me either, Y/n just how I don't know much about you." She stated as a matter of fact and you hummed, agreeing with her.

"Still, the Starbucks barista doesn't count." You reminded her and the girl groaned, throwing a crisp your way. "Hey!" You complained and threw one at her too, her hard gaze met your eyes and you knew this would not end well. "You braindead fucker, it's Chanel." Jennie exclaimed and threw more your way and soon you two were throwing crisps at each other.

You took your whole bag of crisps and yanked it in her face. "Ha, gotcha big ass forehead!" You laughed and Jennie's blood was boiling as she grabbed inside the box and took an unopened pack, moving from her place you tried your best to cover yourself to not get hit in the face although Jennie wasn't having it.

"Stop. Fucking. Covering. Your. Face." She gritted out and pushed you over, making you lay on the floor, pulling on your arms to get them away from your face, the bag of crisps already discarded as she needed both of her hands since you were much stronger than her. Jennie managed to grab hold of your wrists and with all her strength yanked them away from your face, pinning them down beside your head. Your breathing was heavy as her chest heaved up and down, you both swallowing as she ended up straddling you. Her hair which was being held back by the hairband gently fell down her shoulders but kept all her hair out of her face.

Jennie took this awkward position as her chance to apologize because she knew that it couldn't get worse than this. "I am sorry for...calling you a freak earlier...I didn't mean it." Your lips parted at her words and you pursed your lips slightly. "I just...uhm..." She trailed off not knowing what to say without exposing herself too much to you now. "Well, I am sorry for molesting you." You apologized too and she shook her head. "No, you didn't do anything inappropriate, I was just..." Jennie trailed off and her grip tightened on your wrists for a second as she looked away since a blush was threatening to cover her cheeks again.

"No, I am sorry because I clearly made you uncomfy and that's my fault." You stated, because no matter how much you two would bicker and push and pull, your intentions never were to make her uncomfortable. That made Jennie look at you and her cheeks were slightly flushed as she was quick to clear it all this time without beating around the bush. "No! Really, it was because...I got really flustered and didn't know what else to do or say...So, I just slapped you and accused you when it was clearly all an accident." She finally explained and you were very surprised to hear that you made thee Jennie Kim flustered. It was something you thought that you would never get to hear or would never think would be true.

"I believe you." You said and she tilted her head at that. "I mean, look at you...you're as red as a tomato right now." You said with a smirk and Jennie clenched her jaw as she knew that it would be a bad idea to boost your ego like that since it was already big. She let go of your wrists at that and pulled away, sitting up straight about to get off you, but you stopped her, grabbing onto her forearms as you sat up with the girl straddling your lap. You glanced down at her chest subtly to see how her breath hitched. "I knew that there was something more to you than just liking to get on my nerves." You stated the obvious and her eyes darted around the room to avoid yours. "Like what? There's nothing else, I just enjoy making you mad and that's it." Jennie sassed out, trying to slither her way out of this somehow.

"You're attracted to me." You cockily said and watched how her pink chubby cheeks got a little brighter with your words, her skin flushed and probably hot. "I am not...Your ego is way too big right now and that's far from attractive." Jennie replied and still kept her eyes away from you, looking behind you instead as you still gently held onto her forearms. "Ok then, can I try something? If you don't find me attractive just stop me right away, Jennie." You said and she finally met your eyes with hers that held curiosity and she gave a hesitant nod at that. You wetted your lips and didn't waste much more time as you pulled her closer to you, her eyes widening at that but her whole body freezing and going into shock when you pressed your lips against hers.

You just gently pressed your lips against hers, you closed your eyes and started to move your lips against hers, waiting for her to either push you away or to start moving her lips against yours. Loosening your grip on her forearms, Jennie's eyes closed and her hands came around to your nape, her lips moving against yours. The amount of comments you would like to make right now just to get her mad and worked up were right at the tip of your tongue, but you decided to push it into her mouth instead of annoying her. Her nails dug into your nape slightly as she opened her mouth more. Wrapping your arms around her petite waist you tilted your head slightly to have more access, a hum left her mouth at how your tongue pushed against hers.

Although you pulled away when you felt her warm thighs that were straddling you squeeze slightly, obviously looking for some sort of friction. "Don't be a wuss and stop now, Y/n...finish what you started." Jennie firmly demanded through the blush covering her cheeks and there was the attitude you knew her for and not the shy little Jennie she was just a second ago. "Or are you afraid of some pussy?" Jennie quipped and quirked an eyebrow just trying to provoke you to get what she wanted. You bit your lower lip with a smile and lifted the girl off your lap, making her sit back down on your hoodie. You watched the frustration on her face from that before you stood up and reached your hand out for her. Jennie took hold of your hand and you pulled her up to stand.

"Still seeping with attitude even though you're the needy one." You commented and a small gasp came from her mouth when you pushed her up against the wall. Her hands gripped your shirt as you held her waist, pulling her into you before leaning down and kissing her again. This time more assertive as you knew what she wanted from how much attitude she had even when being desperate to get fucked by you right now. A moan slipped past her lips and her hands kept pulling onto your shirt, definitely ruining the material with her neediness. Your knee went between her thighs, parting them as they were so desperately rubbing against each other for friction. She shuddered at the contact with your knee and gripped onto your shoulders just in case her knees would buckle beneath her.

Feeling her hips roll against your thigh that was between her legs as she continued to kiss you fiercely, too focused on chasing her high to realize what was going on. Your hands let go of her waist and went under her skirt, gripping the thin material of her pantyhose, Jennie groaned right into your mouth when you ripped their seam, exposing her cunt- inner thighs too- that was only covered by her cheekies now. Moving your hands to her hips as she rolled them, grinding right onto your thigh that was pressed between her legs. You pulled away from the kiss, Jennie's lips were wet and parted as her head fell back and rested against the wall, her eyebrows furrowed as she lost herself in chasing her orgasm that was growing in the pit of her stomach.

Seeing that she was too busy to even try and kiss you now, you leaned down to her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses on the skin while your left-hand untucked the pink v-neck from her skirt. Sneaking your cold hand under it, goosebumps formed on her hot skin as you ran it up to her breast, fondling it through the bra she was wearing. "Oh fuck." Jennie breathed out, her nails digging into your shoulders while you sucked on her neck, squeezing her breast as you reached your hand inside her bra, your fingers busying themselves with her hardened nipple. Jolts of electricity went through her body at the pleasure that her body went through, starting to feel light-headed from it. Breathless moans came through her mouth mixed with cries as she was so close but yet couldn't reach the orgasm that was right there.

"Fucking rub my clit or something you fucking- fuck yes!" Jennie got stopped from cursing you out of frustration- letting out a cry of pleasure instead- when you let go of her breast and moved your hand between her legs, snaking your hand through the waistband of her panties and finding her swollen clit. Her legs tensed up and her movement halted as she moaned continuously, not being able to stop her moans even if she did not want you to think that you were good at this which you very much were. She wrapped her arms around your shoulders, holding herself up as her legs were giving up at this point when her orgasm came at last. "F-Fuck." She breathed out before gasping when you did not stop rubbing her clit for even a second.

She choked on her breath as it didn't make it past her chest, her whole body burning from the inside at the feeling. Her legs were shaking the slightest as you removed your hand, watching her chest heave up and down, holding her up by her hips. She continued to pant, trying to catch her breath as quickly as possible although she hadn't had a good orgasm in a while since her own hands did not satisfy her enough. "Come on." You ushered and tried to pull her away from the wall. Jennie finally moved her head that was resting against the wall and looked at you confused. "What?" She questioned confused and you chuckled, reaching into her hair and removing the hairband that was in it gently before throwing it on top of your hoodie. "You know...I want a release too." You pointed out as you were very fucking hard right now.

"I'm not sucking your prick." Jennie let out and you raised your eyebrows at her. "Who said anything about sucking? And even if I was talking about sucking, why the fuck not?" You said, kind of offended that she wouldn't want to suck you off. You were very clean. "Because why waste talent on a one incher?" She tsk right after and your mouth went agape. "Plus, I don't have any condoms."

"One incher!?" You exclaimed and she rolled her eyes at you. You reached into your pocket, taking out the cardholder while praying to the seven goods of fortune. They seemed to be on your side when you took out the unopened condom with a big grin on your face. "Wanna do the honours?" You questioned as you held the wrapper in front of her, throwing your cardholder into the pile of other things. She was about to take it but you changed your mind. "Nevermind...why would you waste time on a one incher, right?" You said and shrugged, putting the condom in your pocket. "Unless you are saying that because you...well, in simpler words suck at giving blowjobs...I will go with my version." You provoked and saw how something literally flicked in her eyes at your words.

One thing Jennie hated was to be bad at things, anything, it didn't matter and she despised people who said that she was bad at something when she knew damn well that she was a pro at it. It triggered her so badly and she knew that she needed to work on it because it wasn't healthy to always feel the need to prove herself. You bit your tongue when Jennie literally dropped down to her knees in front of you. She was going as far as bruising her knees right now just to prove to you that she was not bad at this and she wasn't sure why she went this far because the Jennie she knew herself as would never, NEVER bruise her knees for anyone even if her life depended on it. Yet here she was, on her knees before you.

This made her not want to look up and meet your eyes. Instead, she looked at the print through your grey sweats and she could tell that you were not a one incher, definitely not. Her hand went up to the hem of your sweats as she tugged them down, the sweats pooling around your ankles. You looked down at her, watching her every move carefully as she reached her hand up to your dick that was trapped in your boxer briefs. Taking in a deep breath when she ran her fingers gently along your length up to the hem of your boxer briefs. Her lip was between her teeth as she pulled them down, curious about your size and excited.

You smirked when she finally removed your boxers, watching as she squeezed her thighs when her eyes landed on your dick. Jennie wanted it inside her, didn't matter what hole as long as it was inside her. Her hand gripped onto the base as she stroke up, your tip leaking with precum that she gathered before spreading it along your length. "Ever had anything this big in your mouth before, brat?" You groaned when her grip around your leaking tip tightened in response, Jennie wasn't sure if she liked your big ego or not. Instead of responding she let her tongue out and licked up the precum, your dick twitching at her kitten licks, wanting much more. "Come on...Anyone can do that...thought you were a pro." You added fuel to the fire.

Jennie ignored you because she knew very well what she was doing. "Don't cum too fast because I still want you to fuck me." She only said and you noted to not let go too fast to not embarrass yourself. Not after getting this far with her. Your lips parted as you watched her take your tip into her warm and wet mouth, her lips wrapping perfectly around it. You hummed as you put your hand into her hair, pushing her hair back for her as she swirled her tongue around your tip before pulling away. You watched in a daze as she finally looked up at you, using her hand, she guided your length, running your tip along her plump lips, covering them in your precum, you tried to push it back into her mouth but she did not open her mouth and you rubbed against her cheek instead which she didn't seem to mind, almost nuzzling into your leaking tip, rubbing it back to her lips.

"Are you that into teasing?" You questioned and she looked at you through her lashes with a small smile, her tongue only poking out to clean her lips before she bit down on her lower lip. With that she opened her mouth and took you into her mouth, your grip tightening in her hair as she gradually took more and more into her mouth. She hummed as she hollowed her cheeks, sucking back up and swirling her tongue around your tip. Stroking what she didn't reach with her hand while her other hand went to your balls, kneading them and making a moan escape from your lips. She continued to take you in as much as she could before sucking and swirling her tongue around your tip, fully focused on the dick in her mouth.

"I've had better." You groaned out, Jennie's movements almost halted, but she continued because she was just getting started. She sucked hard with her cheeks hollowing even more up to your tip, another moan coming from you, pulling out and licking up the spit that almost fell from your tip before entering you back into her mouth. A loud mouth left your lips and you felt your thighs shake while Jennie let out a shameless moan, enjoying this more than you at this point- when with one smooth and fluid motion she loosened her throat muscles before they tightened around your tip with her lips around your base. The girl deep throating you and making your free hand hold onto the wall beside you as her throat muscles squeezed your tip. "Oh- Oh fuck." You shakily breathed out, not knowing what to say as you hadn't had anyone do this to you yet. You were so fucked.

Jennie released your tip from her throat and slurped back up, the spit running down her chin as her hand squeezed your balls, your hand tugging onto her hair only making Jennie moan and you watched your tongue, to not say anything without thinking it through at first. With another lewd moan coming from Jennie when her throat opened for you again, her nose tickling the skin of your stomach as she had her lips around your base again. "I'm gonna cum if you don't stop." You moaned out because there was no way you would be able to hold yourself if she was going to take your dick like this. Flexing your stomach to not cum when you looked down and met Jennie's eyes, who had your dick shoved down her throat with her eyes watering slightly.

You gave her hair a tug because you were going to bust any second and reluctantly Jennie slurped back up before letting your dick out of her mouth against her own will, but she didn't want this to end yet. You took deep breaths to try and collect yourself, baffled that you had to collect yourself and you hadn't even had a release yet as you pulled your sweats up. "Fuck, how- how?" You breathed out, Jennie rolled her eyes although on the inside she was smiling because she managed to get you like this and it made her feel different things. Instead, she reached for the hem of your shirt and used it to wipe her chin and mouth. "I- you bitch." You grumbled and grabbed her wrist, removing her hand from your shirt to already see that it was too late as the spot was wet on your white t-shirt. "Fuck me like one." Jennie said and you snapped your head back at her as she stood up, your lips parted and eyebrows quirked.

"You know what, I fucking will." You let out and Jennie let out a yelp when you manhandled her and turned her around, pushing her down on the drawer where her purse was laying in one smooth and quick motion. You pinned her front down on the drawer, her hands gripping onto its edge as her chest pressed down on the wood. It was the size of a desk but was used as a storage drawer and now you were going to use it to fuck Jennie into it. "J-Just...don't forget the condom." Jennie basically whimpered as she felt your hand caress her ass slightly through the pantyhose as they were only ripped on her crotch. You hummed at that.

Just when Jennie was about to push herself up because it was taking too long for her liking she hummed out a whine when you pushed her body back down, flush against the drawer. "You fuck like a grandpa." Jennie complained because she wanted you inside her right now since her wetness was already threatening to run down her thighs. You chuckled as you moved her skirt, flipping it up to get a view of her ass that was covered by the black lace cheekies and pantyhose. "Fucked a lot of grandpas?" You questioned and she groaned at what you said. "That's not what I meant!" She grumbled out and you crouched down, removing her doc martens as she let you do whatever you pleased so far.

You yanked down the pantyhose that were already ruined, hearing how they ripped more together with a gasp coming from Jennie, throwing them away in a corner since she wouldn't want them anyway. Still crouched down, you ran your hands up her smooth thighs, looking right up at her cunt that was covered by her panties that were soaked, seeing some of the wetness that was on her inner thighs. Holding them when she tried to close her legs for any friction, preventing her from doing so. "Damn, you're so fucking wet." You commented, slowly pulling down her panties that were basically clinging to her drenched pussy. "And you're so fucking annoying that I would rather fuck a grandpa at this point. Do something already!" Jennie let out frustrated, her nails digging into the wood of the drawer.

You stood up after getting her panties off her and stuffed them into your pocket, taking out the condom and pulling your sweats down. Ripping the packet and taking out the rubber as you discarded the packet somewhere on the floor. Pulling the rubber down your length to the base. You grabbed onto Jennie's hips that were exposed together with her ass and glistening cunt, her skirt flipped up above her hips, licking your lips at the view. Jennie reached behind her, wanting to speed up the process, but you grabbed her wrist, making her hiss as you pinned it against her lower back. That's how she knew that she was going to get fucked literally and in other ways, may it be emotionally or physically.

You took hold of your cock, letting your tip disappear into her folds, collecting the wetness as you run it between them before finding her grasping hole. Choking on your breath as you pushed into her, the tightness of her in this position making your stomach twist as her walls took you in with ease from how wet she was, the tightness only making it difficult to thrust. Jennie whimpered as you stretched her out, her hand that was held by you balling up into a fist and her free hand gripping hard onto the desk before a loud moan spilled through her lips.

You started to move slowly in and out of her, feeling how her walls were squeezing around you. "Fuck- Oh fuck!" Jennie cried out when your pace just picked up from nowhere as you didn't feel like going easy on her, not after what she put you through today. Letting your frustrations out on her. "You know what your mouth is actually good at?" You groaned out and thrust deeper into her, she let out an uneven hum, her voice unstable from how her body was being fucked into a drawer by you. "Sucking dick." You stated and she moaned when you pressed your hand more onto her back, making her feel your dick right on her spot, rubbing her g-spot just the right way because of how her lower stomach pressed into the drawer, making it easier for you to reach her wet, spongy spot. It made her legs shake. "Fuck you, Y/n, and fuck me better!" Jennie bit back, wanting more from this.

You removed your hand from her hip and took it up to her head, gripping her hair before pressing her face harder into the top of the drawer. Jennie's cheek squished into the wooden top, her moans and cries echoing in the tiny space that got hotter from the sex. Having her hand pinned behind her back, her legs shaking from pleasure, the lewdness of her wet cunt swallowing your dick and your hips meeting hers, taking over your senses as it all sent you into a frenzy because you were fucking Jennie Kim who was a big bitch and a brat for all you know, but here she was letting you fuck her as if she had no dignity at all.

You groaned as you pushed harder into her, hearing how the drawer banged into the wall with her purse falling off it although Jennie was getting fucked too good to even notice. "Y/n..." Jennie whined out and her thighs spasmed, clenching hard around you, making your movements go uneven and you instead tried to thrust harder into her. She choked out whines at the feeling of your tips continuously brushing her spot, the twitching of your hard cock, making her want to clench harder to feel more of you inside her. All her sticky wetness just ran down her thighs and she knew that she would never redeem herself when it came to this.

"God, you're so fucking tight, Jennie and you take dick so good." You praised and she let out a shaky hum at that. "You're the first person to fuck me this good." Jennie admitted with her tears of pleasure hitting the wooden top, her cheek still squished into it, her free hand, digging its nails into the wood as she tried her best to grip it. She needed so much more to grip on, the way you were fucking her brains out, your dick stretching her tight walls and she wasn't sure if she wanted more or if she wanted you to stop, her mind getting clouded.

"Fuck, please...I want more." Jennie begged like never before and you let go of her hand that you had pinned down, reaching it around to her front Jennie's whole body tensed up when your fingers came in contact with her clit, her body momentarily flinching at the contact. "That's too much!" She cried out although in pleasure, not wanting you to stop, you kept going, her both hands gripping onto the drawer that was sounding like the last screws in it wanted to leave right this moment. "Yet you're taking every bit of it, aren't you?" You questioned and pressed a tiny bit harder on her clit that you continued to rub and she gasped big, your dick still rubbing on her spot inside of her.

Her mind went blank, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she whimpered at the orgasm that went through her toes all the way to her ears that were ringing, her legs feeling numb with her walls pulsating in rhythm with her heart which she could feel amidst her orgasm- the throbbing of her clit and wall- her hips pushing more into you as she let out moan after moan. "I- I- I can't...Y/n." Jennie managed to whine out as she needed you to stop, her clit and walls throbbing from how intense her orgasm was. You removed your hand from her clit and let go of her head, making it easier to breathe for Jennie who was panting.

Holding onto her waist, the feeling of her slick walls, throbbing and clenching around your cock made you burst within seconds as you had been holding long enough. You pressed your body flush against Jennie, your face in her neck, burying it in her hair as her perfume attacked your nose as you busted into the condom, filling it like never before with a slight whimper. It got quiet in the small room that you two had been trapped in for a good six or seven hours now, both of you panting and swallowing to get rid of the dryness in your throats. Waiting for your legs to not feel like jelly as you rested on top of Jennie who had her eyes closed, trying to just breathe normally.

You took in a breath and placed your hands on each side of Jennie's body on the drawer, pushing yourself up before pulling out of her and pulling down her skirt for her. You took hold of her shoulders seeing her still struggling to push herself up fully, getting her up and making her turn around. Jennie leaned against the drawer and you stopped yourself from leaning over to her and kissing her since you were scared that she would find it too intimate. "Just- wait a second." You quickly let out and Jennie didn't care and just listened as you lifted her to sit on the drawer.

Removing the condom and tying it as you cringed at it before throwing it somewhere on the floor. Pulling your sweats back on fully with your boxer briefs, you turned to where your hoodie was and wondered what you were actually doing since you never acted this domesticated. You shoved your cardholder into your pocket that was on your hoodie, took her hairband and then picked up your hoodie and a water bottle before walking back over to Jennie. Cringing internally at yourself because what the fuck was up with you? "Here, put it on." You let out and placed the water with her hairband beside her, even going as far as putting the hoodie on Jennie, who yawned after you pulled it down, feeling drained.

"I don't- uhm, I don't have any paper or tissues..." You trailed off, going too far for your own liking and Jennie pointed to her baby pink chanel purse on the floor. You picked it up and like an idiot opened it, ignoring all the tampons and whatnot before taking out the pack of tissues. Jennie saw as you stopped after taking them out, seeing how you were contemplating what to do. "I can just do it myself, if you really don't want to, Y/n...You don't need to act-." You cut Jennie off as it wasn't like that. "It's not like that...I just have never even thought of doing this much after sex for someone and here I am wanting to do it...so I am just a little confused with myself." You admitted and looked away from Jennie and down at the tissues. This made Jennie just as confused cause she never had anyone go the extra steps for her and yet she wanted you to do it. God you two hated each other for this.

"I haven't had anyone go the extra step for me." Jennie decided to admit since you two were at it so there was not much more to lose here. "I mean even the hoodie was more than I have ever received." She said, people weren't even decent enough to pull a duvet over her let alone a hoodie and to think that the person she "hated" the most and was "hated" by the most was the one to show the most care. She would at first think that you were just a really generous person, but you did admit just a second ago that you never did this for anyone else before...so that meant that you actually cared for Jennie.

"But at this rate, I rather do it myself, you dingus." Jennie said and tried to reach for the tissues in your hand because the stickiness was starting to get too overwhelming after being there for so long, but you moved them out of her reach. "No...I got this." You firmly stated, for some reason wanting to leave an impact on her- which you already had done today in multiple ways- this time by being the first one to go the extra mile for Jennie. She rolled her eyes and just let you do it as you took out two tissues and helped her clean up while she took the water bottle and drank from it, liking the princess treatment she was receiving from you.

Once you were done you looked at Jennie who was looking at you with a knowing look. "I need my panties back." You groaned as you hoped that she wouldn't have caught you and reached into your pocket, handing them over to Jennie as you had been caught red-handed. Jennie took them from you and you helped her get down from the drawer and stand on her feet before averting your attention to look around the room, ignoring the corner where you had made a mess with the crisps and the other part of the floor that had her ripped pantyhose, the wrapper and the condom. You looked at the place where the soccer balls were and saw what you knew you had seen earlier, walking over to them and reaching for the rolled-up yoga mats, taking three of them.

Jennie watched as you walked over to the clean part of the storage room and rolled out the mats, placing them on top of each other before you heaved a sigh and slumped down, sitting in the corner and leaning your back against the wall. You glanced at your wristwatch before looking at Jennie. "It's only 11 pm...the volleyball team doesn't start training until tomorrow morning at 6:30 am." You informed and gestured with your head for her to just sit with you, looking at her as she stood with your hoodie that reached mid-thigh on her, making it look like she wasn't wearing much more. With that, Jennie walked over to you.

Feeling needy for cuddles after what you did to her, Jennie settled down between your legs, taking you by slight surprise but either way, you wrapped your arms around her waist wordlessly as she leaned her back against your front. "You're not really as arrogant and spoiled as you pretend to be? You're no snob." You questioned after a few seconds of just silence. Feeling Jennie shift slightly at your question before she rested her head against your shoulder, looking at the door in front of you two. "...Not really no." She replied quietly and you nodded as her fingers started to fiddle with yours.

"Then why do you always act like that?" You curiously asked.

"It's my personality Y/n." Jennie stated the obvious.

"I don't mean the attitude, that's obviously bitch syndrome." You groaned when she nipped your thigh at what you said. But you knew that the attitude was just part of her although the rest wasn't. "But seriously, I know that the spoiled brat and arrogancy isn't you...not from what I have seen today, you're no snob."

"People don't like rich people that are humble." She shrugged and you moved your face to look at her, the girl just looking down at your hands that she played with.

"How do you know?" Jennie sighed at that and you were worried that maybe she would snap soon for pushing this far since you two never had any real conversations.

You could see that she was a bit reluctant but decided to just say it. "Because I tried at first...I had to change schools because of how much they bullied me for it." She explained with a frown, remembering how much everyone just pushed her around when they found out about how much money her family had and yet she was one of the most humble people they had met. "You can't know if now will be the same if you try to just be your humble self." You tried, seeing no reason at all for her to be the snob that she pretends to be.

"Exactly, that's why I don't want to risk it...I don't enjoy flaunting wealth, but people don't like it when someone with money tries to be humble, they think that we do it out of pity or something." She reasoned and you could see it from both sides.

"Do you?" You asked her.

"No, I don't do it out of pity, I do it because wealth had never been the most important thing to me, I am thankful that we have money, but that's it..." Jennie had always been grateful for having money, but she never saw it as something that would define her until people made her use it as something to define herself as. They didn't like her humble self and bullied her for it, most people who were not as wealthy hated her for how she was like right now, but they at least didn't bully her and she associated herself with other wealthy people who were nice towards her. "I just don't trust it." She concluded, not trusting people with trying to be herself in front of them.

You thought about it carefully, knowing that this could very much ruin even the bickering between you two, but with a sigh, you just went for it just like you had the whole time ever since getting trapped here with her. "Maybe...you could give me a chance to prove to you that it doesn't have to be the same." You suggested, knowing that it wouldn't hurt to get to know thee Jennie Kim especially since she proved you wrong- her personality wasn't rotten and she was hot, but you already knew that since you weren't blind.

Jennie chuckled and turned her head, coming face to face with you...small blush on her cheeks because well, Jennie had always been attracted to you and bickered with you for your attention and because she liked it and now you were basically asking her out. "This is my pussy preceding me, isn't it? I am sure this is out of order, Y/n." Jennie let out another chuckle as everything that went down today was not in order. You shrugged as you gazed around her face, momentarily glancing down at her lips that had been places today and had let out different sounds and words before looking her in the eye.

"I mean...kind of is, but the sex isn't what's making me ask this." You cleared it up since Jennie had made you feel a few things you hadn't really felt with anyone else yet and the same went for her...You made Jennie feel like a normal human being and didn't kiss her ass just because of her money- you never did as you were basically the only one at school that didn't care about whether she had money or not and then showed a bunch of care ever since getting trapped and no one had really done that either.

"What is then?" She asked, wanting to know what your intentions were if it wasn't sex.

"I would actually like to get to know the real you...unless you really can't see yourself with someone like me, then it's fine and understandable since-." Jennie rolled her eyes at your rambling.

"Fine. Plus I just told you that I am not like that...money doesn't matter to me." She cut you off, reminding you about what she had told you not even five minutes ago.

"Fine?" You asked baffled as you expected her to be a bit harder to get to agree, but here she was...but only if you knew how you made Jennie feel every day and especially today you would understand right away why she so easily agreed.

"Yes...but no sex until you take me out on a few dates and we get to know each other." Jennie leaned more into you and licked her lips before leaning in and leaving a peck on yours. "That's just to close the chapter for what happened today." She explained as you never kissed her after fucking her so good. "No more." She said and put her hand on your lips when you tried to kiss her again since you weren't ready for that peck. "I will only kiss you once we are together...you can kiss my cheek." She let go of your mouth and pointed to her cheek, making you lean in and peck her soft cheek before the girl sighed and closed her tired eyes after today.

Soon the morning came and it was 6:35 am when the door to the room opened, the light waking you and Jennie who was snuggled into your chest while you were still leaned against the wall. The girl who opened the door gasped and you widened your eyes at the way too-familiar voice. You only managed to cover Jennie's face (although everyone would still know that it was her) who groaned awake before the flashlight of Yeri's phone lit up the whole room, taking a picture of the mess, capturing everything from you and Jennie- her bruised knees- to the condom and ripped pantyhose- Yeri the school's biggest gossip girl ran away right after.

"What was that?" Jennie asked pissed as she sat up straight, you cleared your throat and swallowed.

"Yeri." It went quiet.

"Hold me or I swear to God she will be 6 feet under." Jennie let out and was about to stand up, but you pulled her back down.

"Wait...is what we said yesterday still...you know valid and not something in the moment?" You asked to make sure, Jennie rolled her eyes at that.

"Of course, you fucking moron-" She confirmed, still having that attitude of hers that you always loved before she gave you a quick kiss on the corner of your lips before shrugging your arms from around her. "Now let go so I can threaten Yeri and the next five generations of her family, Y/n."

You smiled and she quickly stood up, running out of that room you two had been stuck in for 15 hours and 15 minutes together...it was all the time you two needed to get something between you two started.

Let's say that it didn't take her long to introduce you to her parents...she knew that you were staying for good and you had no plans of leaving Jennie once you had gotten to know her better.

#blackpink smut #jennie smut #jennie x reader #smut #jennie x g!p reader #girl group smut #fanfic #oneshot #fluff #smut with plot

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