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pinescent-and-gingerbread · 11 months ago

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˖✧ Through my eyes

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Karen explains Mary and Arthur's story to you. Saddened, you're convinced you could never compete with her until the man in question proves you wrong. ✦ Warnings/Tags: Self-depreciation from both sides, kissing, comfort, fluff. Reader has been with the gang for a year. Use of Y/N. ✦ Words: 3k ✦ a/n: This is the answer to this ask by the lovely @crystalofmoon19. I really hope you'll like it, dear! And thank you for your support, you've been really sweet to me and my work! As always, I got carried away and wrote way too much. And as always, please reach out to me if you spot any misspellings. Also idk why I made this in Colter, guess I just feel way too hot rn and want some fresh snow + Arthur's coat is perfect for comfort. Credits. Arthur's pic is from my playthrough. Other pics are not mine found them on Pinterest. AO3

“And in the end, she rejected his proposal, then a few months later, sent him a letter telling she was marrying some wealthier gentleman!”

Your mouth hangs open in the air. Karen’s words enter through your ears and create a nice little nest for themselves in your brain. You had no idea. No idea Arthur had been this close to being married. That their relationship had been so strong, that, according to hearsays, he had reached his lowest after their break up, drunk most part of the day, fighting the rest of the time, obnoxious to everyone, even Dutch and Hosea.

“Y/N? You’re okay, there?” Karen asked you, disappointed her big reveal had left you reactionless.

You focused your gaze back on her. Her blonde hair is softly litten up by the setting sun, her breath exhaling a puff of steam as she breathes. Colter is a cold place, and it probably felt even colder because of the morose mood of the gang. You suddenly remember you’re supposed to be shocked. You are, of course, but in a very bad way. Not in an “Oh my God, I can’t believe this Karen, so much gossip!” kind of way.

How could you ever compete with that?

“Yeah, I’m alright. God, I had no idea so much happened between them.”

“Oh, trust me, it was definitely his biggest love story. Never saw him get into someone else after her. Not even Mary-Beth! Could you believe that?”

No, you couldn’t. You weren’t sure why but every word from Karen felt like an enormous stone falling into your belly and dragging you deeper and deeper into the sea. Your silly little crush on Arthur, when you first joined the gang a year ago, had turned into a way stronger attraction. Denying it at first, you had little by little let your emotions win, cherishing every moment with him, thanking Dutch for assigning both of you to the same missions, loving the quiet evenings where he would just sit next to you around the campfire to scribble in his journal while you would do your little hobby on your own. Silent most, but enjoying each other’s company, and so, so peaceful.

More than your emotions, you even had let your imagination take the lead, dreaming about a selfish future with him, seeing it every time he would give you a smile, or laugh at one of your jokes. A happy Arthur, relieved from his obligations, enjoys life's simplest joys. A house, a garden. Maybe a dog, considering he had loved having Copper. A marriage even. And why not a child? If he would feel ready. Something in you was telling you he would be a good father.

But now, you felt like this dream was rotten, condemned. Like a broken match. The fire, the very thing it’s designed for, not being able to be lit. Would never be lit. A wasted potential.

You tried to continue your gossiping chat with Karen, voice light but gaze elusive as you peeled the potatoes you were supposed to prepare while discussing, tedious tasks often ended up less difficult this way when you were working with the other girls. But behind your seemingly normal smile and hollow words, a haunting thought was hanging on to you as strongly as a rock trapped in a thousand-year-old iceberg.

Arthur never fell in love again after Mary Linton.

Night had definitely fallen on the frozen mountains. After your endless vegetables centered-chores, you had helped Mr. Pearson turning them into a decent meal, his incessant blattering about the Navy giving you some sort of distraction. During dinner and after though, once you didn’t have any goal or job left to do for the day, your conversation with Karen came back into your wandering mind, her speech playing again and again like a used gramophone record.

Never fell in love again...

Sitting at one of the corners of the big cabin you had been sleeping in for the past few days along with the girls and some other gang members which mainly served as a common space, you were looking outside by a dilapidated window. A frozen World spread out before your eyes, every inch of surface covered in snow and ice, the landscape ending up looking like it was coated with a thick strange substance —dark blue colors Queen of this gloomy, misty horizon.

Arthur had returned from a very busy hunting day with Charles. Thanks to them, meat had been added to the vegetable paradise of a meal, resulting in a better-than-usual supper. He should have felt cheerful, but his mood wouldn't lighten.

He had spotted you from across the room, noticing the hurtful absence of your smile on these sweet lips of yours. Smile he secretly loved. Lips he secretly fancied.

Hesitating for a long moment, debating with himself, a self-depreciative rambling turning in his head like a well-oiled motor, he had ultimately decided to join you and investigate. Something pretty important must been bothering you, because loosing your usual little grin and eating your plate all by yourself really wasn't in your habits.

Approaching you, his boots and spurs clicking and stomping before you could see him, he plants them in front of you, standing there while his eyes lock on your face.

“Miss Y/L/N? Is everythin’ okay?”

“Oh, Mr Morgan. Yeah, don’t worry. Everything is great.”

He doesn’t believe you and honestly, you wouldn’t have convinced yourself either. And Arthur is a stubborn man. A stubborn, and caring one. He leans against the cabin's old creaky walls, on the other side of the window.

“Come on, don’t lie t’me girl. Everyone noticed you’re not in your right mind.” He honestly doesn’t know about everyone, but he surely did. His words are accompanied by a small, polite smile.

“I don’t think… I don’t think you’re the right person to talk about it.”

Arthur’s entire body froze. The hands he had on his belt as always when he was comfortable, flew to his chest as he crossed his arms, his thick winter coat folding with difficulty. His encouraging smile flattened, his brows pleating in a harsh frown.

“Erm… Alright, I get it. I won’t bother you, I guess.”

Without loosening his arms, he pushed himself from the wall, taking a step to leave you some space. You couldn’t have missed it. This change of behavior, the hurtful expression he had displayed, as if he was truly pained by your words. Disappointed, maybe even shameful to have thought he could help you at all. He was just a sad, ugly bastard, after all.

You felt like you could hear all of it from where you were, and see it in the shadow that had taken his face and the gigantic mass that seemed to have fallen on his shoulders.

No, you didn’t want this. Didn’t want him to feel like that because of you and your stupid feelings, or your own dark thoughts.

“Wait, Arthur!”

He turned around the second you talked again.

“I’m sorry it’s just…” You sigh and look at him with an uncertain expression, knowing your next words were going to be risky. “It’s about you and Mary Linton…”

His eyes turn into two literal plates, his mouth slightly opening in outer astonishment. This was really not what he had in mind. You could have been sad because of a hundred logical reasons, the death of Davey and the loss of Sean and Mac, the complete fiasco of Blackwater, the hundred of dollars lost, the terrible and tough conditions of the Grizzlies plunging everyone into an unbearable cold and a threatening famine. Not mentioning Hosea’s alarming coughing, Dutch’s mysterious decisions, and Micah as a whole.

But you, out of all these things, were worried about Mary.

Once his eyes had grown as round as they could, they got back into an interrogative expression, the wave of surprise over.

“Wha’…?! How d’ya even know ‘bout her?”

“Karen speaks a lot when she’s bored…” You briefly explained, trying to sound detached.

Arthur rolls his eyes to the Heavens. Of course, folks talked, and you had to know about it all at some point. But this wasn’t ideal at all. He would have preferred to tell it to you himself, at a time he would have felt comfortable doing so, with his own words. He didn’t want this to change anything between the two of you.

“And erm… What exactly bothers ya?”

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are jammed. Explaining that you feel jealous of what the both of them had shared would just come down to confessing your feelings for him plain and simple.

You felt completely stuck.

He’s right there before your eyes, the very source of all your worries and your every joy. Looking at you with those confused blue eyes, wondering what is happening in this pretty head of yours. But the words still won’t come out. You feel more and more powerless, and instead of a sound, your eyes take over to get something out of your body, slow and sad tears filling them like a lonely glacier fills a mountain lake on its own.

Arthur’s usual frown furrows, his wrinkles more visible, contrasted by the shadows from the warm lights of the fire. Suddenly, his internal melancholic speech shuts down, as if the view of a single tear streaming down your cheek were absolutely intolerable to him. No worries nor anxious self-restraints crosses his mind —it’s now only instinct. He sees you crying. He has to help you. This is as easy as that.

His right hand reaches to you by itself.

It feels warm but coarse. This big, big hand on the side of your face.

“Oh, Y/N. Don’t waste those pretty tears for a sour-faced idiot like me.” His thumb gently wipes the drops of sadness that had overflowed from your two delicate lakes. “Come on, les’ jus’ talk about this somewhere quiet.”

Arthur gently uses the hand he had on your cheek to wrap it around your shoulders, solid arm gently pushing you up. He then leads you through the door, other members throwing curious gazes at the both of you.

But he doesn’t care. His priority, right now, is your well-being, and some privacy to allow him to finally whisper things in your ears he should have a long time ago. Not in front of everyone. Not with the other men looking at your sparkling eyes, and listening to the change in his voice he knew would crack, his usual intimidating persona crushed into a million pieces with only the sound of your own. Or with the other girls hearing the oh-so-important words he had to say. No. You would be the only one to witness this.

He had brought you to the barn where the horses were kept. The snow was falling lazily, a few flakes passing through the holes in the dilapidated roof. The place is enveloped in a heavy silence, as if it was muffling every sound coming from the outside.

Once Arthur had closed the big wooden doors behind you and before he could do anything else, you finally burst.

“I shouldn't cry, I’m so sorry Arthur, I just… She looked like an incredible woman, so beautiful a-and distinguished, and me well… I'm just… me.” Your eyes fell to your feet. You like everything was coming out of you all at once and you couldn't contain it anymore.

“Stop it.”

“How could I ever mean something to you? You've been with her for so long and even proposed to her and… and never fell in love again after her and…”

“Stop it, Y/N!”

Arthur cut your blabbering panic by pulling you against him. He held you so tightly you were almost crushed by his powerful arms, but it felt so good. Like he was holding together all the little pieces of you that had cracked, melting them with his warmth and molding yourself again with it.

“Now you l’sten to me, sweetheart. I don’t want ya to say things like this ever again.”

The sudden use of the pet name soothed your heart immediately. You buried your face into the furred collar of his big winter coat, the hairs tickling your nose. There, you can feel a little bit of his bare skin, your cheek finding shelter against it.

You stopped talking.

You just wanted him to continue to. His deep voice seemed to come directly from the inside of his chest, and you could feel it vibrating before actually hearing it.

“Ya know I’m no… Am no poet or, or good with words like Dutch…” He started, visibly unsure of what he was going to say. He’s relieved he had initiated the hug, this way, with your face in there, you couldn’t see his. The worried expression it was carrying, like a burden. “But lemme tell ya just how much I care about ya. Oh, my sweet girl.”

This is it. He tries not to but his low tone begins to tremble. It’s so strange. It feels like forever since that happened for the last time.

“Yeah, Mary has been a real’ important part of my life, I won’t lie to ya. But it was so long ago, gorgeous. So long ago.”

He knows he won’t shed a tear. He never cries. But his hands shake. His vocal cords vibrate in a vulnerable, softer, and higher-pitched quaver. His body tenses, heart as fast as if racing with a million wild horses galloping in the Great Plains. Even if his words couldn’t explain just how much you meant to him, you could have guessed by how you were affecting his entire flesh.

“Ya know what? It’s true. Our story ended badly. I never fell in love again after her.”

You sigh, more tears wetting your face and his blue coat, this truth so hard to swallow.

“Until that morning, when I saw you brushing Boadicea’s mane; your hair all covered in hay, the brightest smile I ever had the chance to witness on that sweet face o’ yours. That day, I knew my stupid foolish heart had done it all over again.”

You let out a single chuckle mixed with tears and emotions, so relieved. Even when you felt like you were at your lowest, he succeeded at making you smile.

“Grimshaw had forced me to groom all the gang’s horses to “get used to camp’s work”. Must have looked terrible.” You remembered with a smile, details of your first encounter with Arthur flooding your mind.

“You looked like a goddamn Angel, honey. T’was like the sun was shining jus’ for ya. Jesus, I knew it was too late for me.”

You pulled back from him just a little, enough for you to look at him in the eyes, but not for him to let go of you. Now that they had found you, his hands, still slightly quivering, refused to let go, their place on your back and behind your head feeling so natural and right. Your eyes behave the same way as them but with his face. He looks so moved that you have to pinch yourself internally to make sure you’re not dreaming this whole thing; never in your life you had seen him like this.

“I love you too, Arthur.” You confessed back to him, fingers cupping his cheeks in a delicate touch.

You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach his face, but his arm helped you, your lips gently discovering themselves, brushing against each other in a soft and shy caress. Even if both your mouths were chapped by the biting cold, it was the most gentle kiss you had shared in your life, a satiny embrace that left you completely dreamy and light-headed.

The snowflakes silently swirl around the both of you, Nature the only witness of your souls melting into each other.

Opening your eyes again after this moment out of time, you're met with the happiest smile Arthur ever had on his face. He looked like and idiot in love, and you were sure you looked exactly the same.

“Please darlin’, don’t ever compare yourself to her ever again. What’s in the past stays there. And I wanna have a future with you.”

Your dreams sprang back straight from your heart to your mind. The visions you had about the both of you were more alive than ever, reinforced by his own needs shared with yours.

“You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re so smart and stunningly gorgeous. And, you wan’ a proof?” He playfully asks you, taking his hat off his head, a thin layer of snow falling from it.

Turning it over, he carefully pull a piece of paper out, hidden between two leathered segments in the inner part of his hat. His cut and reddened fingers unfold it and he gives it to you, his big smile turning into an embarrassed and sheepish one.

It’s a sketch of you.

You’re mesmerized by the details of it, the blades of hay messily tangled in your hair, the sparkling in your eyes, the exact clothes you were wearing that day. This smile, you’re more than certain he drew it way more beautiful than it really is. Arthur even had added some lines traced from your head to the end of the paper, as if you were the Sun itself and were emitting your own light.

This was impossible this was the same person as you, her beauty was too radiant and fascinating.

But no matter what you thought about yourself, seeing his work curled your lips in the exact same way as yourself on the drawing. With snowflakes replacing the twigs, you had turned into the living recreation of it. Arthur laughed when he noticed, and realized just how much he had loved you and continued to since that morning from a year ago. He bent towards you to put a small kiss on your forehead.

“Arthur it’s… It’s beautiful.” You find it difficult to find another word, speechless once again.

You also had no idea of how talented at drawing nor attracted to you he was. This day definitely was full of surprises. You chuckled fondly before taking a last look at your portrait and giving it back to your lover. But Arthur’s large palm wrapped around your hand.

“No, please, keep it. This way, you’ll always remember how you look through my eyes.”

More tears threaten to escape your own, even though those were a direct extract from the immeasurable happiness you were experiencing.

“And... Now that I don’t have to hide myself while sketching ya, I’m going to draw lots of new ones.”

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries Thank you for reading all of this! Also, I didn't know this was a thing but if ever you want to be tagged in my works too, let me know! It would be my pleasure.

#Okaaaay this is super cheesy but I like it!#please comforting Arthur heal our hearts #Also this is the second time I write a love confession in here and def not the last time #Hope I won't repeat myself too much.#rdr2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan comfort #pinefic

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hoseoksluna · 1 year ago

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ROSÉ | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut

word count: 5.7k

summary: on your first dinner date, your boyfriend brings you a small gift—too bad you're too horny to appreciate it.

pinterest board: wine

warnings: a bit of drunkenness, a mention of inner child healing, oc teases jungkook and oc is horny as fuck, dom/sub dynamics, wine!jk, provider jk..., daddy issues, punishment, spanking, food used during intercourse, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), dirty talk, a mention of a sex toy & a mention of a plushie in a sexual context, raw sex, brattiness, jk and oc smoke together

note: OH GOD—IT'S FINALLY HERE. SLFJSLDFJS. A REQUESTED DRABBLE about wine!oc and jungkook. this was so fucking fun to write and i was so hot and bothered from this that i had to take a break............ yeah uhm anyways, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. ENJOY READING AND LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ANONYMOUSLY IN MY INBOX. I NEED YOUR THOUGHTS. PLS AND THANK YOU. ₊˚⊹♡

side note: jk in the first pic made me fucking die. and other things....

The rosy pink nectar has, undeniably, gone to your head.

Your empty wine glass is illuminated by the setting sunlight spilling past your shoulder, reaching its yellow, warm fingers to the tips of your boyfriend’s that rest lazily on the white cloth of the table. You’re woozy, in a lighthearted mood—so much that even the world has lost its heft and all you can sense is the sluggish process of your absorption. You’re engrossed in the way the spring coalesces with the beginning of summer—in the warm evening wind ruffling your curls, tickling your bare shoulders, in the darkening hues of the sky, pinks and violets, in the gray smoke of Jungkook’s cigarette interlacing with the slightly sultry air. You can see it in his eyes, the unfolding of it all. And perhaps you’re tipsy or perhaps you’re just brazenly and foolishly falling in love, because you’re aware that if the man weren’t sitting in front of you, none of these things wouldn’t have caught your attention in such a devastatingly profound way.

He has made you feel so safe. By simply and beautifully laying his feelings bare. To you and for you. Created a haven for you to dwell in, for you to grow in and explore all the dark and light corners of you that have merely seldom seen the face of the sun. How could you not indulge in a little bit of alcohol, when you’re protected in that place of security? Let your girlishness swim a little, refresh herself, enjoy herself?

You’re glowing. You always had been, but your shimmers have gained a new intensity to their twinkles, keeping Jungkook’s liquid stars warm and taken care of inside of you. Their blunt points have carved you into someone else entirely, too. Joyous, cool-headed and absolutely and irrevocably self-assured. Fearless. And his hands have reached deep within and caressed the head of your inner child, healing her and washing her clean, giving her everything she ever lacked. Love, attention, care and validation. Whenever you remember that you never wanted him to get a glimpse of your soul, bile rises in your throat and your stomach hurts.

He saved you. Healed you. Through and through. Gave you his control.

It stirs your never-ending awe that he has managed to do this in a month, and you want to celebrate it. You think now is quite the perfect occasion for it as it’s your first dinner date since you’ve become exclusive. Having spent most of your time at each other’s places fucking, partying and fucking some more, it’s nice to be out, alone with him, that is—and it’s nice as fuck to be out with your boyfriend. The sex has become so different with the label and the rawness of his feelings. And the thing about Jungkook that gets you the most, that strengthens the realm he invented for you, is that once his emotions overflow, the stream of its wine doesn’t stop pouring. The moment he confessed his love for you, ever since then you sense it expressed in everything he does—in the way he greets you in the day, in his tight, burning embrace, in the tenderness with which he holds your hand or kisses it, the relentless, great thought and consideration he puts in the choices he makes for you on the daily. Whether it’s the fatuous things he buys you that mean the world to you, the way he never neglects bunny and incorporates her in everything you do together or… the sex.

Fuck, the sex alone has taken over your life so vividly and drastically that it consumes your brain. There, in that environment, is where the wine of his emotions is the raciest. He’s not ashamed to cry, letting those liquid pearls trickle down your collarbones, quenching the thirst of his liquid stars as he fucks you dumb and enjoys every second of it. He’s not afraid to be loud either. To talk you through your orgasm with even more care and detail than you were accustomed to in the past.

He’s become boundless. And it’s the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

God, you’d be crazy not to let yourself fall for him—

“I got you dessert,” Jungkook husks, digging his fingers into the pocket of his pants while his other digits draw close to his mouth. He takes a drag of his cigarette, crinkling his eyes so the smoke wouldn’t get into them and you beam at him with a fire that’s more scorching than the sun’s ever been in centuries, heart doing somersaults at the thought of him thinking of you and spending money on you again. And, also, at how hot he looks while he smokes.

Your love language must be gift-giving. You don’t know what else to connect it to, the joy that envelops your entire being whenever he gives you something. It doesn’t even have to be expensive, nor does he have to pay for it at all. Drawings have become your favorite keepsakes—drawings of his Miffy bunny, drawings of flowers, of you. You’ve hidden them away in a box along with everything he’s ever brought you, except the white bunny ring because you wear it daily and one small, particular drawing that you’ve put inside your glittery phone case.

A cutesy marker sketch of him and you. His arm around your shoulders. Bunny sitting on your laps in the middle, as if she were your own child. Cheeks big and bubbly, pink and twinkling. Your curls the way you wear them; his mullet. A perfect depiction of the pair of you. You gaze at it every single day—prefer to now put your phone face down because of it.

You’re tracing it now with the pad of your finger as you wait for him to reveal your mystery gift to you. The bulby heads, the cheeks, Miffy’s ears. Jungkook puts out his cigarette, puffing out the smoke, away from you, and once he’s done, he taps the back of your hand. Turns it over and spreads out your fingers, inserting, at a snail's pace, something round but slender at the same time, smiling adoringly at you.

What a sight to behold. It steals, fleetingly, your attention away from his hand.

Slicked back mullet, twinkles taking laps in his soft eyes, blushed cheekbones and stretched, pouty mouth, shiny with his liquid love. Long neck that you’d like to devour now, the broadness of his shoulders and chest that could come second as a plain, dark beige shirt accentuates his hard work at the gym.

Oh, fuck. Your nipples pebble against your carmine tube top.

Jungkook withdraws his hand and with blurry eyes, you look at the thing he placed in your palm.

Chupa Chups. Strawberry and cream.

Your mouth parts and it’s a concoction of a gasp and a sound of endearment when the realization that he got you a lollipop sinks in. Your heart flips and does a head stand. Lips round into a pout, drunk eyes softening, its twinkles growing in size and light. It’s like he gave you something golden, when in fact it costs a few wons, but to you it’s exactly that. Something so precious.

You give him an air kiss, bouncing in your seat in joy, fingers already destroying the wrapper. “Thank you so…”

Your brows furrow as the wrapper remains intact. You do a bad, bad job of picking at the tape around the slender stick, your long manicured hands absolutely useless—and the cause of your frustration. You puff out an angry gust of breath, trying harder to get to the sweet delight and it’s at that moment that your boyfriend takes it from your hands with a deep chuckle.

“You silly boo, this is how you do it.” Jungkook pinches the wrapper around the stick and he merely, in a few swift motions, twists the ball until it lets go. He scrunches it in his fists and throws it away in the ashtray. Smirks smugly, leans his elbows on the table, draws close to you. You mirror his position, get to him almost nose to nose, and his smirk deepens, tongue darting out to lick across his lips. You do the same, eyeing the round pinkness in his hand, the sexual attraction and its tension soaring high between you.

Without your hands, you could put it in your mouth, mimic the way you do it on his own tip and make him lose his mind a little bit. It’s right here, an inch away and you dip your head towards it, a magnetic pulling drawing you naturally to it. Sense his gaze on you, sense his delight, sense the flashback glimmering across the wholeness of him. But before you could wrap your lips around it, he moves it out of your reach.

“No,” Jungkook murmurs, breath slightly ragged, holds it up in front of your face, watches as you go cross-eyed a little bit. Hums at the sight, quietly enough for only you to hear. “If you want it, ask for it nicely.”

His puffy lips being so close to you, you desire to kiss him—cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink, his oh-so-loved dominance fucking with your drunkenness and your brain, body altogether. You tip your head to the side, flutter your lashes, make your eyes big and smile at him as sweetly as you can.

He coos, validating you, and it is a force that makes you feel safe enough to submit to him like a small animal to its father. Safe enough to want to get under the table and make him feel really, really good, too.

“Can I have the lollipop, please?”

He groans, still quietly, and your panties drench immediately. You widen your eyes at him, feeling your slick, pursing your lips to scold him silently. He just laughs, amused by it all, and the sound of his joy fills you with elation.

One that darkens, when he asks, “Where?”

You lick your lips, taking in the question, struck by it. Letting your mind wander, the places where you want it, except your mouth, is on your nipples and your clit. Nicely sweet and sticky—for him to clean up, for him to enjoy. Your dewiness soaks the material of your panties and your body begins to yearn for any kind of friction. You’re not sure whether you’re able to stick around in your chair, acting as if nothing’s wrong—acting as if you’re not stupendously horny.

“In my mouth.”

Jungkook makes a noise of appreciation and you’re so frustrated by all those sounds he makes that you want to dig your nails in his arms and make him pay for it. Even more so, when he plunges the lollipop into his mouth and his lips pucker around it, inciting the butterflies in your tummy to go absolutely fucking berserk. You place your hand on his bicep, nails ready to attack, but then he pulls out the treat with a pop, angling it at your mouth.

“Open.”

You thought he stole it from you, but he did no such thing. He wetted it for you, like a father for its child. You’re stupefied to the point that you don't even realize that you’re leaving a mark on the linen material of your seat.

You do open your mouth for him, however.

He twists the ball on your tongue, expecting you to close your mouth around the stick, but you don’t. No, you swirl that muscle around the candy, deepening your gaze, smirking. Jungkook stills, clenches his strong jaw. Darkness flicks across his eyes and he narrows them. First warning.

You pretend you don’t see it.

Closing your mouth and encasing your hand around his, you move the lollipop to the side of your cheek, acting as if it were his dick. And when you bob your head once, Jungkook tugs on the stick, wanting to pull it out, but you don’t let him, keeping it caged between your teeth. It only drives you to bob your head again.

“Stop,” he says, voice calm, deep and serious—terribly deadly. Withdraws his hand and leans back, watching you with a predatory gaze, one that makes you even wetter. “Or we’re going home.”

That’s exactly what you want. Instructions clear.

You open your mouth and do a show of swirling your tongue around the ball, only this time you flick the muscle against it. Jungkook grips the table, knuckles white, and you laugh, which you soon realize was a grave mistake.

“You think it’s funny?” he questions you, staring you down with a look that should frighten you, but it merely turns you on. You suck on the lollipop, the dulciness of strawberries suffusing your senses. “I’ll bend you over this fucking table, lift up that slutty little skirt and spank you in front of everyone.”

You pull out the candy with an exaggerated pop. Scowl at him. As though his words didn’t affect you the way that they did—as though you’re not squeezing your thighs together, trying to gain that friction you so desperately need. “Why are you so angry?”

He looks away for a moment, laughing silently. Nods his head at your wine glass. “You finished with your wine, baby?”

It’s this pleasantness that you hear in this voice that spreads goosebumps across your skin. Feigned sugariness—the sunlight right before the clouds come in and thunder strikes; the calm before the storm.

Good thing you’re dressed for the rain and ready to sing in it.

You nod your head and Jungkook clicks his tongue, grabs you by your hand whilst he pulls out his wallet. You accompany him as he walks over to the bar, black card ready between his fingers. Waits to be noticed. Gives you a look over and fixes your skirt, pulling the hem down.

Pays for you. Smiles down at you as he pockets his wallet.

And then, he drags you to his car.

Perhaps it’s the fresh air, perhaps it’s the briskness in his walk and the tight hold around your hand, but all intoxication evaporates from your body, leaving only your stained elation and neediness. You can’t help your smile. Think it must be sewn in at this point. By his own diligent fingers.

A wind blows in, pulling your hair to your front and Jungkook pins you against his car. Tits squished against the passenger side, elbows pressed together. Eyes wide, you check your surroundings and find no one in sight. Only swaying trees, buildings of apartments, lamps illuminating the dark street. You relax right away, trusting Jungkook that he’s on the lookout and knows what he’s doing.

He grinds his hips against your backside and you moan at the feeling of his hard length. With his free hand, he brushes your hair to one side and begins to pepper kisses along the curve of your neck, nuzzling his face in. Hovers his lips above your ear when he says, “You feel how hard you made me with your little show?” You nod, quickly, wanting more of him, wanting him inside of you. Push your hips back; twirl them in slow circles. Jungkook hisses. “I guess you really do want that spanking. Where’s your lollipop?” You show him your hand, where your treat remains uneaten and dry. He takes it from you and you turn your head in time to see him sink it into his mouth, placing it on the side of his mouth like you did. “Get inside the car.”

Jungkook opens the door for you and forces you in, closing it with a harsh thud. As he rounds the vehicle, he makes eye contact with you and your tummy flips in response.

Fuck.

Nothing happens in a millisecond once he’s seated, but then he grabs your cheeks, squishing them in the way he likes, and kisses you hard, lollipop in hand. Moving his mouth against yours, his tongue only briefly greets you before he pulls away. “Naughty fucking girl. You’re lucky that I love you because otherwise…” He doesn’t finish his sentence with words, but with another kiss, breathing against you, grunting when it’s you this time that slips the tongue inside, playing with him the same way you played with the dessert he got you. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me. I’m gonna put you in your fucking place, make you remember how to behave in public. You’ve forgotten, haven't you?”

You don’t have time to react, you merely bite your lip so hard that it aches. Jungkook pushes you back and yanks your leg between his, lifting your skirt. Then, he hovers his palm above your ass, the other forearm resting on the top of the seat, lollipop dangling near your head. He hides his smirk behind his effort to flatten his lips.

And when he spanks you, you don’t roll your eyes back and rasp like your body naturally wants you to. No, you hold the eye contact and you take the pain, letting it course through your body, reveling in it. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps going, alternating between slapping your now reddened cheeks and the back of your thigh. Doesn’t even stroke the skin to alleviate the burn. He solely bores his gaze into yours, his cock rock hard against your leg. Another set of words are exchanged, silently, deeply, teaching you your lesson in tandem with the hits, burying it to a great depth inside you.

And then he finishes with a nasty kiss, but his hand resumes causing you pain. You’ve lost count of how many spanks you’ve taken.

It’s like you’ve woken up from a trance. It reverberates throughout your entire body and it’s now that you allow your body to vocally react. You whine, rounding your mouth in a pout, so different from the one on the dinner date. And you remember your manners—perceive how wrong it was to tease him, even though a good half of you still takes delight in it.

“It hurts,” you whisper, nudging your lips against him and he gives you your last spank—the hardest of them all. The infliction makes you flutter your eyes shut and Jungkook brings them back to him by caressing his knuckles down your flushed cheek.

“Good, you remember how to behave now?” he asks, halting his movement, such piercing intensity in his irises that drive you to nod your head. “That’s my good little girl.” Taps the side of your thigh. “Let Daddy make it better now.”

You open your legs for him and Jungkook pushes your soaked panties to the side, revealing your little bedewed seashell. He hums at the sight of her, pops the lollipop back inside his mouth. Collects your arousal by swirling the pads of his middle and ring finger around your hole, eyes flicking from your pussy to your own, groaning when he comes into contact with your swollen clit, rubbing slow circles. You whimper, bucking your hips, needing him to go faster, needing to come.

Jungkook shakes his head, disapproving. “You take what I give you or I’ll stop.” Lifts his hand to express the gravity of his threat and you help, wrapping both hands around his and putting it back on your bundle of nerves. He chuckles at your desperation, giving you the same circles, though now firmer.

Waves the lollipop near your lips. You open your mouth, instinctively, and he plunges it into your mouth for a mere second before he pulls away, growling at the sound that comes out. He does it again, fucking you with it in a way, just to hear that pop and he’s so pleased with it that he sinks those two fingers inside your heat, fully, in one ego. Keeps them there. Teases you. Hovers the lollipop out of your reach and you decide to fuck with him back. Darting out your tongue, you whirl it around the flat side and he swears, moaning, giving to you at last.

He latches his mouth onto your neck, starting the drill of his fingers. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

He picks up the speed so rapidly that you scream, squeezing your eyes shut, the pleasure permeating your body so vastly that you quiver all over. Grab a hold of his hair, pulling on it and then—

Then, he withdraws his fingers. Ruins your orgasm.

You pant, trying to catch your breath. “Please, Jungkook, please—”

He nudges his nose against yours. “What, baby?”

“I need to come, please.”

Jungkook tuts, kissing you once. “I thought we could play.” Plunges the lollipop into your mouth to wet it. Shows it to you, just to see you go cross-eyed again. Moans. “Where do you want it, hm?”

Ever the angel that makes your fantasies come to life. You wrap your fingers around his hand, butterflies swarming in your tummy. Lead him towards your still clothed breasts. “Here.” Take him to your drooling pussy. “And here.”

Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Descends his fingers a little lower, to your other hole, circles it. “What about here?”

You giggle, but you shake your head. The idea may be intoxicating, however reality is much different. There’s a risk to putting any sweetened food inside, one you don’t want to deal with.

Jungkook smiles at you, pushes your seat back and slides it in the same direction. Crawls over you and you feel so feminine, so sexy underneath him. Nipples perked under your top, breasts full and spilling. You arch your back towards him and Jungkook drags his thumb from your bottom lip, to your chin, neck, the dip of your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your Tom and he tugs it down so harshly that you can’t contain your very own concoction of a gasp and moan.

Lollipop in mouth, one hand propped by your head, the other squeezes your breast hard, nearing it, fingers pinching your nipple. Makes the flesh as red as your ass. You can tell he likes the view by the way he coos, but then he wipes all your thoughts away, when he sucks hard on the candy and swirls it around your stiffened nub, gaze flicked to yours to watch your reaction.

The pleasure is so vivid, so dizzying—and for him, you let it paint your face in all its colors. Brows scrunched, bedroom eyes, mouth parted, puffing out desperate breaths. Jungkook sucks it again and smears his saliva around your other nipple, taking his time, slapping the ball once against it, making you hiss.

“It feels so good,” you murmur, sinking your fingers into the longer length on the back of his hair, bringing his mouth to yours. You kiss him with a verve that causes him to groan. You swallow that sound, satisfied.

He grins at you. “I bet.”

Dips his head and envelops that sugar-coated nub with his warm lips, sucking it hard. His groan spreads there, deepens there and you arch your back even more, pulling his head to your other nipple so he can do the same thing. Join your other hand to his hair and do whatever you please—turn his head side to side, from one nub to the other—and he lets you, giving you, momentarily, his control. You feel your essence soaking the seat beneath you and you thank the heavens that the fabric is one of leather. You lift his head and try to push it down, but he won’t budge. Stares you down instead, lustfully.

“Where do you want me?” he asks, a wrinkle between brows. “Be a good girl and tell me.” Pops the lollipop back in his mouth.

You sigh, kissing him once on the side of his neck, using your tongue. Make sure you’re looking at him as you reply, “On my clit.”

He moans, eyes woozy, finger on the stick as he sucks the candy, clefts of dimples on either side of his cheeks. You palm his length, your own digits rounding across his tight balls and he whisks his irises back, grinding into your hand. “You want a lickie?”

“Yes, so bad, please.”

He hums and kneels before you, kissing your clit once in greeting. Then, he flattens his tongue and licks a fat stripe across your whole femininity—from your slit, to your swollenness. Hands on your hips, index curled around the lollipop, he holds you steady, prevents you from meeting him, as he stimulates you like this. Up and down, tongue rolling, eyes fixed on you, devouring you. And when he stops to suck your clit, he taps your mouth once with the ball of the lollipop. The act of sucking on something while you’re getting pleasured like this almost throws you over the edge, your body coated in a layer of sweat, but Jungkook withdraws in time. Presses the delight in the middle and rubs small circles, just to prepare you for the big thing. You become so whiny, so loud that his eyes grow in size, watching you in awe.

To reward you for such beauty, he rapidly strums it from side to side, causing you to nearly levitate, but he pins you down. Wetting it and placing it back down, grunting at the aftertaste of you mixed with the sweetness.

And he can’t resist. Can’t hold back. The wrinkle between his brows deepens when he tastes you, licking you all over, tongue stopping occasionally its feast to flick at your clit before he swallows you whole. Grunts, sucks, licks. Eyes closed to savor the taste. The pressure in your core heightens, even more so when he lifts your legs, greedy for the side dish in the form of your other hole. You’re so close that you might burst.

“You taste so fucking good, baby. So sweet. Come on my tongue, please, I want more of you.”

He wants more of your taste.

You come so hard that your orgasm takes you to an open sea, your body floating on calm waves, to and fro, eyes rolled to the sky—to the sunroof—seeing nothing but the elegance of the twinkling stars and deep purple clouds.

“That’s it, baby, so good. That’s my little girl.” He slaps the side of your thigh, bringing you back to him. “Listening so well, learning her lesson, coming so hard. I’m proud.”

His words alone could make you come again, but you’re distracted.

Jungkook unbuttons his pants and pulls out his manhood. Stroking himself, he lines his tip at your mouth. He doesn’t even have to tell you to open up—you do it yourself. Holding it at the base, he stuffs your throat right away, a guttural chuckle emitting out of his mouth when you gag. He pulls out to where you’re comfortable having him and you begin to bob your head, like you did with the lollipop.

“Yes, suck it like that, my love. Daddy loves it when you do that.”

His precum on your tongue, the way he’s holding himself, the position and his words—you moan around him, so out of your mind, so fucked out. And when he fucks your mouth, it turns you on so much that you go cross-eyed.

Jungkook pulls out quickly, as if the sight of it alone was about to make him come. A string of your saliva from his tip drips onto your chest and he slides into your mouth again just to poke your cheek, just to mimic what you did with the lollipop. You whine, liking it so much, to the point that he drills this tender place of yours until he can’t take it enough.

“Turn around.” You try to, but your legs are jelly. He manhandles you to the position he wants—on your knees, tits against the leather, arms around the headrest, the formerly abused cheek against it. “Hold onto it. Too bad we left bunny at home, huh?”

Jungkook runs his cock across your pussy and you grind against it, needing the friction after the way he used you. You whimper for him. “She’s probably wondering where we are right now and why we’re taking so long.”

“I’ll make it up to her.” He presses his length against your clit, encouraging you to use him back. “Rub your pussy like that on me, fuck.” He moves so it’s his tip that stimulates you. You ride him harder, moaning loudly against the leather. “You can make it up to her, too. Can ride her like I know you can. With a vibrator between your legs and hers, hm? How you like the sound of that?”

You’re so close you could come in a second, but you don’t want it like this. You need him inside of you. “Shut up, I’m literally gonna come like this. Fuck me.”

He fists your hair. Pain shoots up your scalp and he ruts into your heat. Fully. Until his pelvis collides with your ass. You scream.

Lips by your ear. “Is this how you talk to your Daddy?” He begins to pump into your little tight hole. Mercilessly. The leather squeaks, a horrible, rapid sound that you can only faintly hear because all that your senses can focus on is his cock. “Your Daddy that loves you so much?”

You come, pathetically. Sea and waves, palm trees that sway. Your legs tremble, but he keeps going, mouthing the shape of your ear.

He tsks. “I’m gonna tell bunny on you. Maybe I’ll be the one who gets to fuck her while you watch.” He gives you a hard stroke, one that is followed by rapid thrusts that scramble your brain. “She’ll be so disappointed to hear how bad you’ve been, but I’ll make sure to tell her how hard I fucked it out of you.”

Lifting you from the leather, he kneads your breasts, placing the lollipop in between and holding it up by squishing them.

“Come on, get your lollipop.” He bounces your tits in his hands, signalizing you that he wants you to do it with your mouth.

But you can’t do it. You come, majestically, your senses leaving you and wafting in the stuffed air of the car. Boneless, you sag in his arms.

Jungkook coos. “You come so well around me that I’ll be good to you. You’re just a cockslut, aren’t you, baby? You just can’t help it, hm?” He puts the lollipop inside your mouth, chasing his so-needed release.

It doesn’t take long for him to find the footsteps into that bliss that you left in your wake. He holds you like this, against him, tits spilling over his forearms as he jackhammers into you so hard that your whole body bounces, shakes and reacts to each grunt, to each whimper, to each kiss he presses onto your skin.

With the little of the brain you have left, you decide to talk him through it—because he fucks you so good.

“Come for me, Daddy, yes, please, fuck. Fill me up with your cum. I want it so bad, I want to feel you—” His cock twitches in you, but he continues, sloppily. “Yes, so good. That’s it. Come for your little girl, Jungkook.” A loud groan. A tight hold. A spurt of his cum inside your walls. You whimper and he fucks it deeper into you, giving you more of his liquid stars. “Jungkook, oh fuck, Jungkook, oh yes.”

And it’s that never-ending litany of his name that helps him chase his high to the fullest. He kisses your neck hard in gratitude for helping him come, marking you, marking this memory.

You stay like this for a little while. Sweaty, sticky, spent, breathing hard—lungs synced.

A warm announcement sneaks to your heart, one that screams it into the drowsy skies once Jungkook pulls out of you, turns you around and, stealing your candy, kisses you.

An announcement that you’re deeply and irrevocably in love with him.

“You sounded just like me.” He finishes your lollipop for you, chewing the small bulby head as he dresses you and his cum spills onto your panties.

Your smile is dopey, satisfied and you’re ready for sleep to take you, but Jungkook gets out of the car for a smoke. You think you need one, too, after what you’ve experienced together, and so you follow him out into the night on wobbly legs.

He leans against his car, a cigarette in his mouth, one hand cupping the fire as he flicks his lighter to life. You wait until he puffs out the smoke into the air before you fold into the side of his body, stealing his cigarette and inhaling it, giving it back to him.

Jungkook pats your head, rubbing your scalp, chin propped on it. “I didn’t mean what I said. You were perfect. I’m not telling shit to bunny, I promise.”

You smile, fondly. Didn’t take his words seriously, not at all, but you’re grateful for the reassurement regardless. It’s just role-play, nothing else.

“I know, baby,” you say, softly, massaging his stomach, going as far as under his shirt to feel his bare skin—ever so innocently.

“I wanted to fuck you the moment you sat down. You’re just my little helper and because of that I’m glad we’re going home with my cum in your panties,” he whispers, placing the cigarette on your lips, so you can take a drag. “You deserve every drop.”

You feel that familiar ache rooting in your core again, but you don’t think you can take another round. Jungkook lifts your chin, making you look at him. Twinkles, bigger than the ones of the stars up above, living in his soft eyes. That cute nose. Those pouty lips. His silky, dreamy heart that looks out for you and puts you first.

The three words that you’ve never told him before rise up your body and you think now is the perfect occasion to say them.

“I love you.”

Wetness coats his eyes and the twinkles broaden, saturating them with an unfathomable, fulging light. He flicks his cigarette away, presses you closer to him and with his now free hand, he cups your face. Kisses you. For a long, long time.

“I love you.”

BACK to masterlist

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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aurorawritestoescape · 1 year ago

Text

WHO’S YOUR DADDY?

Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York || 2,7k

Part 2 of Table for Three (can be read alone)

Summary: Joel Face Times you.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, mfm (kinda), not specified age gap, dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, squirting, m!oral, f/m masturbation, cum eating, voyeurism, exhibitionism, pet names (baby, kitten, babygirl, sweetie). Pics are for the mood only, reader has hair, but no other specific physical descriptions.

A/n: I saw that video and had to write this. Pedro is such a menace! Warm hugs to @iamasaddie for the gif in the m/b❤️Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing💖 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Hope you’ll like it! Love you all😘

Pt 1 TABLE FOR THREE || GET A TASTE || MASTERLIST

“Who’s your daddy?”

“Fuck off, Joel, you know it’s not you.”

Joel is Face Timing you while you’re still lying in bed in the early afternoon after a night of passionate fucking with your boyfriend Dave.

You are surprised by your ex’s call but can’t deny that after last week when you sucked him off at a restaurant, meanwhile sitting on Dave’s cock, the surprise is pleasant.

Joel’s in his bedroom, judging by the background, and he looks so hot, you immediately gush. His hair is slicked back, chocolatey eyes sparking with mischief and his five day stubble is calling to be rubbed against your pussy.

“Yeah, I know Dave’s your dom daddy now. Is he with ya?”

“Dom daddy,” you snicker, rolling your eyes, “you watch too much porn, Joel.”

“Yeah, ya think I’m beating my own meat every day, cryin’ over you, babe?

“Aren’t you?”

You both stare at each other but Joel cracks first as a smile tugs at his lips and you both laugh. After a few moments you remember the question he asked.

“Dave’s in the kitchen. Why are you calling? I thought you had me blocked. Or vice versa.”

“Well, i reckon, none of us could say ‘goodbye’”.

“Oh, I can now. Bye, Joel!”

“Wait, wait, baby,” he gruffs hastily through the phone speaker, stopping you from hanging up.

“What?”

“I need to ask ya somethin’. ‘s important”. He narrows his eyes, his expression is serious.

“What is it?”

Joel’s squinting at you for a few seconds while you’re taking in his combed back curls, his handsome tanned face, broad shoulders under a plaid shirt. Every time he talks, his voice makes your pussy tingle, sounding even sexier through the phone. Finally he breaks the silence.

“What are you wearin’?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“You’re an asshole, Joel.”

“I’m just a man in love.”

You giggle, raising your brows and shaking your head in disbelief.

“You hated me a few days ago.”

“I did, baby. But I let the past go.”

You take a deep breath, feeling your guilt for what you did years ago slightly lifted off your heart.

“So?” He presses.

“I’m not telling you, Joel.”

“Ok, then just show me.”

You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Your eyes dart to the door where you hear Dave, making breakfast for you two. You don’t think he would mind you flirting with your ex a little, considering he let you give the older man a handie in front of him. Besides, you look very cute in your sexy nightie with nothing else underneath so you change the angle of the phone so Joel could peek at your body, splayed on the bed, a blanket covering just a part of your leg.

You hear a whistle and your heart sings.

“Pretty, babygirl. Did he buy it for ya?”

“He did,” you reply with defiance in your voice.

“‘s he rich?”

“Dave’s doing fine. But I’m with him not because of money if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Ain’t implying anythin’.”

Then you just look at each other as the air in the rooms gets heavier and a light flirting morphs into something else. Joel breaks the silence first.

“I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”

You haven’t expected that and suddenly your throat gets squeezed with emotions.

“Thank you, Joel,” you say softly.

“Who are you talking to?”

Dave walks into the room with two mugs of coffee and the aroma quickly fills the bedroom. He’s wearing a gray tee and a pair of sweatpants.

“Joel’s FaceTiming me.”

“Joel?” Dave repeats with his brows raised.

He puts the coffees on the nightstand and lies down next to you and your mouth waters as his scent engulfs you.

You shift the position of the phone so Joel could see you both and Dave greets your ex.

“Joel says that he’s happy for me,” you tell your boyfriend with excitement in your voice.

“Oh, thank you, Joel. I’m glad that you two solved your past issues.”

“Her apology really helped, man. I wouldn’t say no to another one though.”

Joel winks at you and Dave smirks, “I understand. She’s very good at apologizing.”

Your eyes are darting between the two men. You can’t shake the feeling of wanting them both and your pussy tingles with desire. Dave’s body pressed to yours sends a surge of arousal to your core and you feel the cold air of the room on your bare wet folds and shiver with excitement. Joel is making you even hornier. He looks hot and masculine with his slightly wet hair. He must have had a shower.

For a second you remember how he made you squirt for the first time. On his knees in the shower in front of you he licked at your pussy and sucked your clit until your legs started trembling but he didn’t stop and began pumping his thick fingers into you, curving them and pushing on that sweet spot in your burning core. In no time you were spraying your juices everywhere, his hand squelching against your folds as he was repeatedly hitting your clit with the heel of his palm. Only your hands on his broad shoulders helped you not to collapse on the floor.

“Kitten!”

Dave calls you, not for the first time apparently, and you blink at him trying to shake the images of the past that were occupying your mind just a second ago.

Joel laughs, “Babygirl, were you thinking of us just now?”

“No,” you mumble, averting your eyes from both of them.

“You’re lying,” Dave says, not asking, and you see his gaze darken. It’s filled with curiosity and lust.

“Tell me what you were thinking about.”

“I—I just,” you stutter, looking at one man and then the other.

“It’s ok, kitten. You two had a past. Daddy wants to know.”

You swallow loudly and reply, “I was remembering—.” It’s so quiet in the room. “—how Joel made me squirt for the first time.”

Joel’s smug grin can be seen from fucking space. He looks sickeningly proud of himself and you immediately regret telling them.

Dave smiles carnally, as if he was waiting for that, and asks,

“How did it happen?”

“In the shower. He ate me out and fingered me.”

Dave turns his face to your phone and asks Joel, “Did you plan on doing it?”

“Yeah, I wanted her to squirt all over me. Does she squirt with you?”

“Yes, she’s a talented girl. Thank you for giving her her first time,” your boyfriend says to your ex and you’re afraid that you’re going to soak through your nightie. But Dave doesn’t give you a respite.

“Kitten, say ‘thank you’ to Joel.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you purr obediently and the older man winks at you through the screen.

“You’re welcome, babygirl.”

You see Dave adjust himself and notice that his prominent bulge has grown even bigger since he joined you two on the bed. He’s enjoying Joel’s call just as much as you are.

Not being able to wait any longer, you get closer to your boyfriend and put your head on his shoulder. With your big eyes looking up at him, batting your lashes the way you know makes his cock twitch, you ask,

“Can we fuck, daddy?”

You hear Joel curse under his breath and then groan. It’s clear that he wishes to be here with you.

“It’s a little rude, baby,” Dave chides you, “We haven’t finished talking to our friend, have we?”

You whine, pouting your lips and he turns to you and pecks your nose.

“How about you put your pretty mouth on my cock and I’ll talk to Joel.”

You hear Joel’s half chuckle-half grunt and almost drool at the suggestion and swiftly reply with an ‘ok, daddy.”

Then you give Dave your phone and climb down the bed, getting comfortable between your boyfriend’s legs, your head hovering over his huge bulge.

“We can talk, Joel, but maybe you’d like to watch as well?”

You don’t see your ex but you know his eyes are obsidian with lust right now.

“Fuck, yeah. Show me what our— your little slut is up to.”

Dave presses the reverse camera button and positions it with his big hands so Joel can see you perfectly.

By now you have already freed Dave’s semi hard cock and it twitches as you’re holding it inches from your lips. You smile at the camera and give Joel a wink.

“Show daddies what that mouth’s good for,” Joel encourages you and Dave smirks, “You’re right. Sucking cock is truly her calling.”

Eager to prove them right you wrap your hand around the base of Dave’s cock tighter, open your lips and circle them around the fat head.

Your boyfriend bucks his hips, impatient to slide his whole length into your mouth, but you decide to give them both a show so you lick a wet languid stripe from the base of Dave’s cock to the weeping tip, covering the underside with your warm saliva.

Then you kitten-lick the slit, gathering his clear precum, and a moan escapes your lips at the taste, as you flutter your eyes shut.

“Shit, Dave, ya lucky bastard.”

“Her mouth is fucking heaven, Joel. Baby, show our friend what you can do to daddy’s balls.”

You smile and nod, before lowering your head. Your hand is still holding Dave’s cock but your tongue is now licking at your boyfriend’s balls, and you tilt your head to get a better angle.

“Fuck, babygirl. Doin’ real good,” you hear Joel’s praise, followed by a sound of a zipper.

Your ears immediately perk up and you ask, parting from Dave’s balls for a moment,

“Joel, are you gonna jerk off?”

“‘m afraid so, sweetheart. If Dave doesn’t mind.”

“I don’t, Joel,” Dave says, his half lidded eyes shifting between you, gliding your cheek against his cock, and the man on the screen, “let’s see if this little slut can make two men come. A bit of a challenge for my kitten.”

You purr at his words, feeling your heated pussy ache with need and pressing your thighs together.

“Can I touch myself, daddy?” You ask as impatience paints your words.

“Not yet, baby. Work my balls a little more and maybe I’ll let you come.”

The hope is all you need so you get back to Dave’s heavy balls and start sucking on them, licking the seam and then open your jaw wide to take one in your mouth. As you’re rolling it with your tongue, you hear Joel’s growling and the sound of him fucking his fist.

Dave’s eyes are set on your lips wrapped around his ball but from time to time his gaze flicks to the phone where Joel is pumping his cock and you moan at the fact that the image of your ex, pleasuring himself turns on your boyfriend.

Dave’s dominant, always controls the situation, but you’ve noticed that he loves seeing what you do to other men, how much you affect them. You suspect that’s one of the reasons why he loves such a giant slut like you.

“Ok, kitten, get to the main course,” Dave commands and you part from his ball with a pop so you could give his cock your full attention.

Through the squelching sounds coming through the speaker you hear Joel encouraging you,

“Yeah, deepthroat that cock, babygirl. Still can’t forget how good you could swallow me. Remember, sweetie?”

You slightly nod with your boyfriend's tip already breaching your puffy lips. You unhinge your jaw and slowly take him all in, soon nuzzling his trimmed hair. Dave groans and clenches your hair with a tight grip, gently rolling his hips to help you swallow him.

“That’s my good girl. Take everything I give you. Make daddy proud.”

Your throat contracts around your boyfriend’s cock while the fap-fap-fap noises, coming from the phone, are getting faster.

“Fuck, Dave, are we gonna come at the same time?”

Dave chuckles as his dark eyes almost close with pleasure.

“Yeah, I’m gonna feed it to her soon. Get ready.”

“Let’s do it, man,” Joel almost moans.

“You too, kitten. Play with your little pussy. Bet it’s so messy right now.”

You take Dave’s cock out of your mouth and croak, “Thank you, daddy.”

To give them both the best view, you lift your ass in the air, getting on your knees, and the bottom of your nightie slides down to your waist. Now Dave and Joel can see your naked ass as a background of the blowie. Your hand slithers to your pussy and your fingers dip between your folds. Dave’s right — you’re dripping like a faucet.

You easily insert two fingers into your hole as your mouth swallows Dave’s cock again. You start plunging your digits in and out of your warm cunt, slightly rolling your hips while your head bobs as you’re massaging Dave’s manhood.

The groans of your boyfriend and your ex fill the room, mixing with your muffled moans and whimpers.

Dave’s leaking a lot into your eager mouth and you know he’s close.

“Fuck, if I was there with ya, we’d fuck all your holes, babygirl,” Joel grunts, his teeth clenched, as he’s probably trying not to bust his load just yet.

“Would you take her ass or her pussy, Joel?” Dave asks and your cunt clenches around your own fingers.

“You’d share her with me like that?” Joel asks.

“I’m a generous host, Joel. You can choose.”

“I’d fuck her pussy, pal. I miss it more than anything. She’s sloppy all the fucking time. Loved her sweet cunt.”

“‘k, I’d be fine with the ass. I work her open fast now. She sometimes wears a plug. Pretty little toy. We’ll show you one day.”

“Be happy to see it.”

Your ex and your boyfriend’s discussion about fucking your holes like you’re their mindless fuck toy is the final drop in a full glass of your pleasure and you overflow with ecstasy as your pussy spills squirt all over your hand, between your thighs and on the bed under you while you’re moaning loudly around Dave’s cock.

The vibrations of your throat and your euphoric expression makes him explode too and he satisfies your thirst, spurting his cum down your throat. Dave gives you so much, you almost choke on his thick load but swallow it swiftly again and again.

“Fuck yeah, babygirl, drink it up,” Joel groans, probably seeing the creamy seed, seeping out of the corners of your lips, and makes a loud grunt, the sound so familiar and dear to you.

You know he’s coming.

The noises from the speaker get wetter and you regret not being able to taste your ex too.

When you take everything Dave gives you, you pull your mouth away from his cock and rest your head on his hairy thigh, catching your breath and licking your puffy lips.

“You did it, kitten. You made us both come. And at the same time,” Dave praises you, gently patting your head, and you purr, closing your eyes with satisfaction. Your body is pleasantly tingling after a great orgasm.

“Can I talk to her, Dave?” you hear Joel’s tired voice and lift your head up.

“Of course,” Dave turns the screen to you and you see your ex’s face on the screen, cheeks redder than before, his eyes hazy. He smiles at you warmly and rasps,

“Thank you, babygirl. I enjoyed the show. Now I need another shower,” he laughs and you and Dave both follow.

“Ok, Joel, was good talking to you. Among other things,” Dave says, turning the phone back at him, “We should meet. We have a lot to discuss. And share.”

“Yeah, Dave. Any time.”

The promise of them both fucking you makes your pussy tingle again and you bite your lip, already daydreaming about it.

Dave hangs up and throws your phone on the bed.

“I’m proud of you, kitten. You did great. Now go get your prize and sit on daddy’s face. Let me clean this messy pussy.”

You almost squeal with excitement, immediately following his order.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic, it motivates me to write more stories for you, lovelies!💖🌺

Table for Three || Get a Taste || Masterlist

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

Also tagging some wonderful people who might be interested❤️ @bonezone44 @janaispunk @neverwheremoonchild @survivingandenduring @tammythr @604to647 @baronessvonglitter

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #dave york #Joel miller x you x Dave York #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #dave york x reader #joel miller x you #dave york x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us #dave york x female reader #joel miller tlou #equalizer 2 #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #the last of us fic #table for three fic

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 9 days ago

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So I wrote another story for Nifty. I wanted to write one that was complete in one chapter. So I wrote the one below. Yes I had AI generate some of the content, but the twistedness is all me.

Upon completion I decided that I like the setting, so I decided to create an anthology of stories. When I am in the mood to create a different story in this setting, the structure will be there.

The title of the anthology series: "Stories from the Motel Next to the Truck Stop". I know, I know, very simple. But I wanted the casual Nifty reader to know exactly what this will involved: truckers and a seedy motel. I also have it set across the street from a biker bar. I plan on beginning each chapter with the same intro.

This chapter is called "Blindfolded and Cuffed."

The above pic is AI as well. Please don't try to figure out how the door works.

As Nifty has yet to publish it, I include it below.

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

Introduction

There was an intersection of two highways in the middle of nowhere that offers the only stop light for fifty miles. On the two west corners were two truck stops--one was run by a big named truck fuel company and the other was a truly independently run truck stop. These stops offering the wayward traveler gas, the best food cooked on rollers, and directions for those that need it. The other two corners each had named motels with a fast-food joint on the property. Beyond the big named two truck stop and set back from it was a biker bar. Many of the truckers would go for a drink before heading to get some sleep or get some ass from the group of local hookers.

But some of the drivers and even bikers would walk across the road from the bar to the motel sitting next to the independent stop. The motel was made up of two buildings, one in front and one around back. The one around back was closer to the semi-truck parking lot than it was to the front building and the main office.

Drivers from both stops and the bikers from the bar would come over for some attention that a woman could never give. This was primal and aggressive and sometimes violent and sometimes nasty. Drivers and bikers in the know would come from all over the country to use the faggots there, and the faggots in the know knew that this was not roleplay. These men wanted to use them and they were in control. Most of the gay men would come here from their gay cities hundreds of miles away. Those that were in doubt of going were advised to stay away.

The motel owner knew that his motel was a faggot's heaven. And all the fag had to ask for was a room in the back. He always charged more for those discrete rooms. Sometimes the same room would be rented multiple times a night. He would tell the new guest that the room hadn't been cleaned since the last guest checked out an hour or so ago; he would give them a small discount. Everything was done with cash. This is how the owner made his money, but only after he paid twenty percent to the local sheriff for protection. Once the cocksucker paid, he let them be the whores they always needed to be.

The owner didn't care what went on in the rooms and was proud to be oblivious to the intense sex between his patrons and the horny truckers. If there were any problems, the sheriff he paid off would take care of it. All he cared for was the cash he would make from the faggots.

Horny truck drivers and bikers would come to that back parking lot at any hour of the night and find a faggot to take care of his needs without fear. No cameras or bright lights of the truck stop. No police presence unless their needs were being taken care of. Nobody back there who didn't belong. Just men using other men to get off. No one ever complained. Just one wild time after another.

This is one of the stories from The Motel Next to the Truck Stop.

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

Blindfolded and Cuffed

Skylar arrived late and took the last available room. The room smelled faintly of bleach and sweat, the kind of scent that clung to cheap motel sheets and didn't budge no matter how many times they were washed. He lay on the bed, his body arranged exactly as he'd planned--knees pushed into the mattress, ass high in the air, his face pressed into the pillow. The blindfold was tight, cutting off his vision, but he'd made sure the curtains were open, the door cracked just enough to invite someone in. His heart pounded as he waited, the anticipation coiling in his stomach like a spring. Who would it be? How many would come? He didn't know, and that was the thrill of it.

The sound of boots thudding against the cracked pavement outside made his breath hitch. Heavy, purposeful steps. A large man's steps. Skylar's fingers curled into the sheets, his body trembling with excitement. The door creaked open further, the hinges groaning in protest. A gust of warm air washed over his exposed skin, followed by the scent of diesel and musky aftershave.

"Well, well," a deep, gravelly voice said, the words rich with amusement. "Look what we've got here."

Skylar's breaths came faster, his chest rising and falling as the man stepped inside. He didn't need to see him to know he was big--the way the floorboards groaned under his weight was proof enough. Skylar's body tensed, waiting.

"What's this?" the man asked, his voice closer now. "You just gonna lie there, huh? Ass up like a goddamn whore?"

Skylar's lips parted, a shiver running down his spine at the man's tone. Yes, he wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he spread his thighs wider, the movement slow, deliberate. A silent invitation.

The man chuckled, low and dark. "That's what I thought. You're just a little slut waiting to be used, ain't ya?"

Skylar's pulse quickened, his cock already hardening between his legs. The man's boots thudded closer, and then a calloused hand slapped his ass, the sharp sting making him gasp. The sound seemed to please the man, because he did it again, harder this time, his palm leaving a burning imprint on Skylar's skin.

"You like that, huh? Like being treated like the dirty little cunt you are?"

Skylar moaned, the sound muffled by the pillow. He did like it. He loved it. The man's voice, the way he was already taking control, the way he was owning him--it was everything Skylar craved.

"What's your name, faggot?" the man asked, his hand sliding between Skylar's thighs, fingers brushing against his balls.

"Skylar," he whispered, his voice trembling.

The man let out a derisive snort. "Skylar? That's a stupid fucking name. There's no way I'm going to call you that. You'll answer to anything I call you like: Faggot, Pussy, Shithead, Asseater, Bitch, Loser, or whatever.... No, there's a better name for you, Cunt. That's what you are, ain't it? A worthless little cunt?"

Yes, Cunt thought, his body trembling with anticipation. "Yes, Sir" he breathed, the word barely audible.

The man's hand moved again, this time gripping the faggot's cock and giving it a rough squeeze. "That's better. Now, Cunt, you gonna let me fuck you? Really fuck you--mean, cruel, relentless. You up for that, or you gonna bitch out?"

The bitchboy's stomach twisted with excitement. "Yes," he said, louder this time. "Please. I want it."

The man let out a dark laugh. "Good. Because I'm not holding back. If you can't handle it and want me to stop, all you just have to say a safe phrase and I will stop, you got that?"

Cunt nodded eagerly, his heart racing. "Got it."

"It's the same phrase I use on all faggots. And that safe phrase is just four words: 'Use me harder, Sir.' Got it?"

Reluctantly the faggot replied, "Got it."

"What do we have here?"

The large trucker, whose name was Buck, looked at a pile of sex related items on the second bed: condoms, lube, poppers, riding crop, butt plug, collar, handcuffs, hood, and so on.

"Looks like I got me a perverted cunt tonight..." The trucker grabbed the handcuffs, and--recalling his time in law enforcement many years ago--had them on in seconds. He even had the second lock set. "...and a stupid one at that."

The man's hands gripped the bitch's hips, his grip bruising. Then, without warning, he shoved himself inside, his cock stretching Cunt open in one brutal thrust. The fag cried out, the sound swallowed by the pillow as pain and pleasure coursed through him. The man didn't wait for him to adjust, didn't give him a moment to breathe. He pulled out almost as quickly as he'd entered, only to slam back in, his pace relentless.

"That's it, Cunt," the man growled, his hands digging into the bitch's flesh. "Take it. Take my cock like the little slut you are."

The bitch's back arched, his fingers clutching the sheets as the man fucked him with abandon. Each thrust was harder than the last, the man's cock hitting him deep, his rhythm brutal and unyielding. The pain was sharp, almost too much, but it was exactly what the faggot wanted. He moaned, the sound broken and desperate, his cock dripping onto the sheets as the man claimed him.

"You like that, don't you?" the man taunted, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You like being fucked like a worthless piece of meat?"

"Yes," Cunt gasped, his body shaking. "Yes, I like it."

The man laughed, the sound dark and guttural. "Course you do. You're nothing but a filthy cunt, made to be used. And I'm gonna use you good."

He dug his fingers into the faggot's hips, pulling him back onto his cock with each thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with the bitch's moans and the man's gruff words. The man's cock was relentless, driving into him again and again, hitting that spot inside him that made his vision blur with pleasure.

"That's it, Cunt," the man muttered, his breath ragged. "Take it. Take every fucking inch."

Pussyboy's cries grew louder, his body trembling as the man's cock stretched him open, filling him completely. The pain was fading now, replaced by an overwhelming pleasure that coiled in his stomach, threatening to burst. He was close, so close, but he didn't want it to end. He wanted this--wanted the man to keep using him, to keep claiming him.

The man seemed to sense it, because he leaned down, his breath hot against the fag's ear. "You gonna come, Cunt? That what you're waiting for? You wanna come like the little slut you are?"

"Yes, Sir" the fag whimpered, his voice raw. "Please."

The man's hand slid under him, gripping his cock and stroking it roughly. "Then come. Show me the selfish dirty little cunt you are."

The whore's body tensed, his hips bucking as pleasure crashed over him in waves. He came hard into the bedsheets without jerking based on how the man was pounding his prostate, his voice breaking. The trucker didn't stop, didn't slow down. He kept fucking him, his cock driving into him as the pussy trembled with oversensitivity.

"You fucking cunt," the man growled.

Cunt's body spasmed, his vision going white as the man's thrusts became heavy hitting his prostate. Collapsing onto the bed, he managed to pull away from the trucker's cock, his body boneless, his mind blissfully empty.

The man's hand smacked his ass again, the sharp sting making him jerk.

"Get back here, Cunt," the man said, his voice rough with annoyance. "I'm nowhere near being done."

"But I just came. I need a break."

"I don't give a shit. That's your problem not mine." The man continued by pounding his cock into Cunt's hole.

A knock at the door doesn't stop the man from his assault. Another trucker asked, "Up for some company?"

Buck didn't even look back when he grabbed a handful of the whore's hair and yanked his head back. "You can fuck its toilet mouth. I ain't using it. And close the door and pull the blind's. The bitch only has two holes, and I'm not up for sharing the one I'm in."

The door creaked shut, and the new trucker's boots thudded heavily against the motel floor. Buck's relentless pace didn't falter, his thick cock driving into the whore with force. The air grew heavier, warmer, as another body entered the fray.

Buck's voice cut through the room, rough and commanding. He addressed the other driver, "Bend over for the cunt. I want to watch him eat your shithole while I take the other one."

With the handcuffs on, the bitch couldn't lift his head to rim the new trucker. Buck grabbed a handful of hair and elevated its head.

The new driver stripped completely and bent over in front of the bitch.

The cunt's stomach churned, but the thrill of submission surged through him, overriding any hesitation. He couldn't see the other trucker, but he could smell him--a pungent mix of sweat, diesel, and something earthy. Real. Raw. It made his pulse race even as his nerves spiked.

The new trucker hesitated, his voice gruff but unsure. "Uh, I haven't showered in three days. You sure about this?"

Buck barked a laugh, his hips slamming into the bitch with bruising force. "You ain't gonna kiss him, are you? So why the fuck does it matter? Pull apart your hairy ass cheeks so he can dive in deep. "

"I have a better idea."

There was a pause, then the sound of footsteps approaching the bed. The mattress dipped under the weight of the second trucker. Pussyboy could hear the rustle of fabric as the man positioned himself on his back with his legs up in the air and spread wide.

Buck turned both of them for better ass eating access. He released his handful of hair and the bitch's face fell right into the new trucker's crack.

The warm, musky scent of the asscrack filled faggot's nostrils. He flinched instinctively.

Buck's hand grabbed another fistful of hair, yanking the bitch's head back only to release the grip and making his face drop back into the trucker's ass crack.

"Just wanted to see that again. Open wide, Cunt, and get that tongue in clean up mode. I want that man's shithole clean inside and out." Buck growled, his voice dripping with sadistic glee.

The fag's lips parted, his breath trembling as the other man's ass pressed against his face. The coarse hair tickled his skin, and the smell was overpowering, a mix of sweat, musk, and something sour that made his stomach twist. But he didn't pull away. He couldn't. Instead, he leaned in, his tongue probing deep into the crevice.

The other trucker started pounding his dick and let out a low groan, shifting his weight to press harder against the asseater's face. His legs swayed in the air. "Damn, that's… that's something else."

Buck chuckled darkly, his pace never slowing. "He's a good little whore."

The cunt's tongue worked hesitantly at first, tasting the salt and sweat that clung to the man's skin. The bitter flavor was intense, almost overwhelming, but it wasn't long before his body began to respond to the degradation, the heat pooling in his groin despite the disgust twisting his stomach. He pressed deeper, his tongue probing as he tried to focus on the sensations--the coarse hair, the firm muscle, the way the man shuddered. But there was no way of escaping the taste.

Buck's voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding. "That's it, Cunt. Show him what you're good for."

The other trucker groaned, his hips shifting to press harder against the bitch's face. "Fuck, that's nasty… but I can't stop."

The fag's head spun, the mix of shame and arousal making his cock throb once again. He breathed through his mouth, trying to block out the smell, but it was impossible. The taste was inescapable, filling his senses as he licked and probed, his tongue working in slow, deliberate strokes. His body was betraying him, the humiliation only heightening his pleasure as Buck's cock pistoned into him, hitting that spot inside him that made his toes curl.

Buck's hand tightened around the bitch's hair once again, yanking his head back sharply. "You like that, Cunt? You like being used like a roll of fucking toilet paper?"

He gasped, his voice trembling. "Yes, Sir."

"Good," Buck snarled, slamming into him with a force that made the whore cry out. "Because you're not done yet."

The other trucker shifted, his hands gripping the headboard for leverage as he ground his ass against fag's face. "Fuck, this is wild. Never thought I'd be into something like this."

Buck laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. "Thought you'd just stick your dick in him and call it a night? Nah, Cunt here's got more uses than that."

The asseater's lungs burned as he struggled to breathe, his face buried in the man's ass. The taste was getting to him, the sour and bitter tang mixing with the salt of sweat as his tongue worked deeper. His cock ached, untouched and ignored, but the humiliation was enough to keep him on edge, his body trembling with need.

The other trucker let out a shaky breath, his hips grinding harder against the moist tongue. "Fuck, I think I'm close."

Buck's cock continued to slam with brutal force, hitting that spot inside the cunt. "Then shoot." That was a command.

Cunt's body was on fire, every nerve alight with sensation. He could feel the other man's muscles tensing, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The taste was overwhelming, but he didn't stop, couldn't stop. His tongue worked feverishly, his body trembling as Buck's cock pounded into him with relentless force.

The other trucker let out a low, guttural groan, his hips jerking as he came, the scent of his release mixing with the sweat and musk that already filled the room. A huge load dumped on the driver's chest.

Slowly the trucker lowered his legs, effectively disconnecting from the tongue. He climbed down from the bed. His chest and cock covered in his load. He looked around for a rag.

"Have Cunt here clean up your cock."

The trucker brought his deflating cock to the skid marked mouth. Buck scooped some of the chest load on to his hand. "When you are done using Cunt's mouth, you can use the shower in the bathroom. It will cost you though." Buck applied the load to his cock and returned to fucking.

The driver looked at Buck.

"Leave your filthy underwear. They will make a great gag when the faggot thinks that using his voice is important."

The driver chuckled, "You got it."

He walked over to his clothes and Buck said, "Open up the window and door like you found it. The cunt needs to service more men."

After opening up the room, he grabbed his briefs and threw them onto the second bed before going into the bathroom.

Buck and the fag saw the huge skid mark on it.

"Say one wrong thing and this is going in your mouth with his shit stain going on your tongue."

Buck's hips slammed into him with brutal force, his cock hitting that spot inside him that made his vision blur. "You're a filthy little whore, Cunt. And you're gonna take everything I give you. You have anything to say?"

Cunt's breath hitched, his body trembling as Buck's cock pistoned into him with relentless force. He could feel the other man's cum on his tongue, the taste mixing with the sweat and musk that already filled his senses.

He really needed a break, but the brutal trucker held him in place. He decided to use the safe phrase. "Use me harder, Sir."

"You got it Cunt!" And with that Buck started to slam into Cunt's cunt with increased severity and brutality. The bitch started to cry. That's all it took for Buck to go into overdrive.

Buck's hips pistoned into the hole with a force that made the bed creak under their weight, his thick, unrelenting cock driving deep into the younger man's ass. Each thrust was accompanied by a low, guttural growl, the sound vibrating through the bitch's body as if it were part of him.

"You're nothing but a filthy cunt," Buck snarled, his voice rough and dripping with contempt. "A worthless hole for me to use. Say it, bitch."

The faggot's face was pressed into the mattress, his blindfold damp with sweat as he gasped for air. "I'm… I'm a filthy worthless cunt," he whimpered, his voice trembling but obedient. The words sent a rush of humiliation through him, making his cock twitch despite the overwhelming pain and pleasure coursing through his body.

Buck let out a dark laugh, his hands digging into bitch boy's hips hard enough to leave bruises. "Damn right you are. You're my fucking cunt, and you'll take every inch of me until I'm done with you."

The other trucker, now clean and dressed, stood by the door, watching the scene with a mix of amusement and arousal. He zipped up his jeans and grabbed his bag, shaking his head with a smirk. "Damn, you're gonna break the poor boy."

Buck didn't even glance his way, his focus entirely on the writhing body beneath him. "He asked for it. Didn't you, Cunt?"

The whore nodded frantically, his voice catching as Buck's cock slammed into him again. "Y-yes, Sir…"

The other driver chuckled, tossing his skidmarked underwear from the other bed. "Don't forget this," he said, his tone mocking. Before he left, he added, "There's plenty more of me for you to taste." The briefs landed on faggot's head.

Buck shoved them into the ass eater's mouth without hesitation. The faggot gagged, the foul taste of sweat and bodily waste once again overwhelming his senses. "Shut up and take it, Cunt," Buck growled, his thrusts becoming even more brutal. "You're a fucking toilet, a cum dump. Nothing more."

The bitch's body convulsed. He could feel Buck's cock swelling inside him, the trucker's breath coming in ragged gasps as he neared his own climax.

"You're gonna take every drop, Cunt," Buck snarled, his voice thick with lust. "Every last fucking drop."

And then it happened. Buck let out a guttural roar, his hips slamming into the cunt one final time as he erupted deep inside him. The cum dump whore felt the hot, sticky fluid fill him, the sensation sending a wave of shame and ecstasy through his body. Buck's hands tightened on his hips, keeping him in place as he continued to pump his seed into him, his breaths coming in short, animalistic pants.

Finally, Buck collapsed onto the bitch's back, his weight crushing him into the mattress. The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and the faint hum of the motel air conditioner. For a moment, there was silence.

Then, Buck pushed himself up, his voice cold and dismissive. "Get the fuck out of here."

Still disoriented from the intensity of what had just happened, the whore mumbled the single word "What?" around the underwear still stuffed in his mouth.

"Get out," Buck repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. He grabbed the cum dump by the arm, dragging him off the bed and toward the door. The handcuffs restricted him. "I need some sleep."

"This is… my room," the meek protest were barely audible through the fabric in his mouth.

Buck didn't respond, instead he shoved him toward the door. The fag stumbled, barely managing to catch himself as he was pushed out into the parking lot. The cold night air hit his naked skin, making him shiver.

"I don't care," Buck said, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound of the lock clicking into place was final.

Skylar stood there, naked and exposed, the blindfold still covering his eyes. After a dozen or so head flicks, he was able to flick it off his head, blinking in the dim light of the parking lot. The motel room's curtains were already drawn, the door shut. He was naked. He was alone.

For a moment, he just stood there, unsure of what to do. His body ached, his ass still throbbing from the brutal fuck he'd just endured. The taste of the other man's underwear lingered in his mouth, a bitter reminder of his submission. Then Skyler's asshole relaxed and some of Buck's load escaped.

"Hey Knuckles, is that a naked faggot in front of us?"

Skyler looked in the direction of the question glanced around and saw two beefy bikers.

From behind, a hand fell on Skyler's shoulder. Skyler looked over his shoulder and saw a big behemoth of a man with a white beard.

The man looked down at him and squinted. Without breaking his glance, the man said, "Not so fast boys, I saw him first."

Skyler didn't move a muscle out of terror. The only sensation he had was the feeling of Buck's load roll down his leg.

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nattheother · 11 months ago

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over the counter and back ✧ jww

tags fluff, meet cute, izakaya!au / midnight diner!au, slight misunderstanding, few swear words, self indulgence (surprising), love me a sopping wet pathetic yn

wc 2.7k words

note that men’s nonno izakaya shoot with dk… yeah... *faints* the hirotaka allegations aint helping either [pic cr. jwwfile on twt]

note i was gonna put an alcohol on the tags but its an izakaya au, u know what ur getting into so :3

crossposted to AO3

—

It wasn’t the weekdays or the rush hour, it’s just the izakaya usually is not that packed. Only two couples on the tables and a woman tonight, who seemed to get off work quite late, sitting at the bar area, seemingly laid back on her phone over her unfinished beer. Old jazzy songs from your boss’ playlist softly filled the bar, warming up the mood.

Your head chef, well, your boss, Kouji, just bid you a farewell. The izakaya just opened about two hours ago this evening, but he had to clock early for his daughter in labour. She usually works part-time here alongside you until about a month ago, which is why you tried to fill her shift until she comes back. Not that you mind.

You wished him good luck before he tackled you into a light hug, resulting in a small “oof!” out of you.

Honestly, handling the diner on a slow day alone doesn’t really worry you. It’s always just the three or two of you. Kouji said the neighborhood was particularly safe, “also it’s a small bar afterall,” he adds.

As you came back from the kitchen after finishing the woman’s check, a new customer came in behind the bar island this time. Young man probably what describes him more. Looks about around his mid 20s, pretty thick rimmed glasses. You’re not sure if it’s his shoulder who’s wide or his button-ups were just oversized, but does he look lean.

“Welcome! Anything for your order tonight?”

He sits on the barstool at the centre by himself. He adjusts his glasses as he glances around unsure, “yeah, um… just gyudon and draft beer, please,”

You walked around getting the tall glass to pour one from the beer machine. “Sorry, can I ask something?” he promptly starts.

”Yeah?”

”Where is Kouji-san?”

Looking up from the filled glass, you serve the beer on the counter, “Sensei? His daughter’s in labour tonight. I’m in charge for tonight,”

“Only you?” you smiled at his question and nodded, “‘Seems you know Sensei. You’re a regular?”

He took off his watch and chuckled, “Sort of? I do stop by pretty frequently but I’ve kinda never seen you,” he reasoned as he folded up his sleeves.

You laughed softly in the middle of wiping off the beer faucet, pointing to the back with your thumb, “I’m usually in the kitchen.” You put the rag into your apron, “So ring the bell or call up if you need anything.”

You felt the banter was enough as you turned your heels back to the kitchen because you had to make his gyudon, “Wait,” but his calling stopped you in your step. You turned around to him taking a sip of his beer.

“I haven’t gotten your name.”

“If it isn’t Wonwoo!”

Who?

Kouji’s whoop was muffled behind the kitchen curtain. You tried to calmly finish plating up the dish for a current customer so you can quickly move on to this acquaintance of Kouji. Putting his order is for later, so you swiftly deliver the tray full of bowls to the also full table at the back first.

You came back with another tray of empty dishes as you can finally see your next customer.

Oh, right… I forgot to ask his name.

He smiled at you as you confidently welcomed him, mirroring his smile.

In the middle of putting away the dirty dishes, Kouji came into the kitchen with a question, “Wonwoo said he knows you? You’ve never told me!”

You looked back at him in a slight surprise and a chuckle, “Not really, actually, we met around last week I think? You clocked off early.”

What you remembered from that day was after Wonwoo asked your name, customers piling up in a short time right after you served his food. That resulted in you spending most of your time in the kitchen and finished his check a little quickly because the other was also queuing behind him.

“Go take his order. A group just came in just now and I’m taking theirs,” Kouji ordered.

“What?? Why not you earlier, Sensei?” you whined.

After your half-playful complaint of not taking his order, you wipe off your hand dry and sighed on your way out.

“Another draft beer?”

You guessed as you walked up to him. He nodded, “And a mapo tofu, do you have that?” You took out your notes to write down his orders, “I’ll make sure and prepare that for you.

Anything else?”

Days after that, Wonwoo stopped by around eight to nine, assumingly whenever he had overtime. It’s always the same order. One (or more) glass of draft beer and any bowl dishes, that mapo tofu most of the time.

There was also the time where he came in at almost eleven. He usually never shows any signs of fatigue or weariness on his face but you can see the dim in his eyes. You tried to not approach him that much, spending more of your time checking up the kitchen before touching the baton to Kouji for the night.

You rang up his check right before you clock out. He looked a bit more refreshed after his meal, cheeks slightly flushed after a few refills of beer.

“Please walk safe home,” you gave back his card to the small tray alongside the bill.

Not expecting your non-customer service-way farewell, he stared at you for a few seconds before nodding his head, “you too.”

You swear in every language you can think of. Your heart squeezed. Wonwoo was starting to grow in your heart. It’s really nice to see him in the izakaya for a few days a week after that. You never sort of believed in any of those “at first sight” moments, if it works, good for them. While it did feel slightly heavy on your feet anytime you had to walk back to the kitchen instead of seeing him and talk to him, you had to put your mind in place. Focus.

It could be because he’s one of your first regulars and, cough, is good looking, but you don’t know his background. Who are his friends and family and why does he always come in alone? You’re not even sure if it’s a crush or that you just found comfort with a customer. Either way, workplace is still a workplace and he is your client. This izakaya is your only rendezvous to him.

That is when Wonwoo ordered two glasses of beer. You tried your best not to halt when you stepped out of the kitchen and saw a young woman around his age beside him. You didn’t, and served him his usual bowl of rice. Gyudon this time, and mapo tofu for her.

You need to stop looking like a stalker, hiding behind the kitchen curtain. This is the second time he had brought her to this izakaya. You need to stop before someone accuses you as a total creep as you compare their interaction a few days ago with today. Almost the same. From outside it looked like they were having a quite serious and private discussion, noting down stuff on paper and their phone alternatively. As if someone’s life was actually on the line. You are also lucky Kouji will come later at night, because he might also accuse you as a total creepy stalker.

You try only focusing on attending customers. It’s almost the weekend and customers start piling up before you realize Wonwoo was already sitting alone. You try to not overthink why he didn’t take her home himself and let her go home by herself.

You walk up to the bar to check the beer dispenser. You can feel his eyes boring at you, slightly dim again like it was a couple weeks ago, and two empty glasses of beer.

“Need a refill?” you carefully ask, walking up to him.

“I’m good.” he slightly smiles before asking for his check.

You kept your sweet encouragement to yourself as you don’t want to force and assume anything towards him. He left the change and gave you a tip.

“Wonwoo?”

It was nearing autumn. Though the sun was already setting at five, the bar still opens at the same time. The rain pours hard, covering any sign of the sun setting with gloom. But nothing could’ve prepared you other than the six feet tall man crouching under the roof in front of the closed bar you’re working at, shading himself from the rain. You grip your umbrella tighter when he looks up to your call.

He calls your name in recognition as he stands up.

The rain poured harder above the roof of the izakaya when you hand Wonwoo the warm coffee on the bar. He’s in the middle of taking off his damp jacket when he looks up to you at the sight of the cup.

“On the house,”

“Thank you.”

You busy yourself behind the bar, checking and tidying stuff up under the bar as Wonwoo sips on his coffee. You peek glances over him. He doesn’t look as tired as the last time you saw him. But if your over-analysis and timeline matched, his reasoning behind crouching like a pathetic man in front of your workplace must have something to do with it.

“Is it okay if I ask you what’s wrong?”

Your sudden approach jolts him a little. He chuckles, “it’s fine,” you wait for his pause.

“I can say it’s family matters. Something came up and we had to figure it out somehow, a little stressful I might say,” you hum understanding.

“Did you not have work today? You usually come later. It’s not even six yet,”

He shakes his head, “No, I just finished super early. My seniors are having dinner, too, so,”

“Not going?”

“Not really my thing. Only works when I was new,”

He takes a sip of his coffee again. You space out for a moment not knowing what to respond. You were never the best at comforting someone. For as long as you’ve been friends with your best friends, you’ve always listened. Maybe give them some hugs and pats on the head, words of “I’m here” and “You’re not on your own” repeatedly said, affirming.

You felt sort of bad and truly embarrassed at how you acted behind him the past weeks, sort of suspecting his love life, getting (you admit) jealous at some random woman you don’t know and didn’t even try to know. Maybe what you thought a few weeks ago was right. Maybe you do have a huge cru–

“Yes, Wonwoo?” your ribbons of thoughts were snipped by Wonwoo calling your name.

“You’re usually bright, is something wrong?”

Confused by his question, you look around unsure. Guests usually come around an hour after opening, and you never wished someone to come in right now so bad through your whole career.

“M-maybe? I don’t know, sorry,”

Wonwoo was in the middle of wiping his glasses with the paw of his sleeves. He puts them back on.

“It’s usually me who’s quiet between us,” he adjusts them to the bridge of his nose, looking up at you from his seat, smiling.

Between us? He’s not making this any better. You scratch the back of your neck, not planning to come up with any reply or answer. You avert your gaze to the window, trying to avoid his eyes. Your wish of customers barging in is washed away by the rain—not slowing down any minute apparently.

“I just thought something came up and you had to like,” you chuckle at your assumption, “get off early or, run away or some sort,”

Wonwoo was still sipping his coffee. Not sensing his answer in any minute, you finish your prior thought with your remaining breath, “sort of heartbroken-looking.”

You organize the shot bottle on the under bar, again trying to distract yourself from the fact that he's now facing you, eyes boring. You didn’t budge and he stared at his coffee.

“I wanna get to know you, Wonwoo,” you finally look at him. Emphasizing on your tone, you don’t want him to feel like you’re just messing around.

“Can I?” you ponder at him, preparing yourself for the worst.

“I don’t know if it's possible. For all the time you came here, the past few weeks, I always get all... gung-ho when cooking, or preparing side dishes and bowls in the back. It’s like I want you to see me doing great like there’s nothing wrong in my mind. You know, "bright" like you said. It’s honestly stupid, fuck…” you breath out the last word.

“And then you came in super late that night, with that… heavy shoulders and countless refills of this damned beer, and then came in with that lady not once but twice, and this… serious tension between the two of you. You know, I just didn’t want to assume but it’s just… I don’t know, it was kinda confu–”

“With who now?”

You instantly pause, knowing full well he has probably catched on. So you sigh, “That… friend around your age. Pretty, slight tan, long hair,” you scratch your forehead in defeat. It’s like your pride just splurts out like a balloon being squished its air out.

You excuse yourself by collecting his empty cup on the top counter to refill it, but a hand halts your steps grabbing onto your arm.

“Don’t give me more, I don’t handle caffeine that well.”

“Just… let me put this back to the kitchen,”

“Later. Sit here.” he orders.

Your heart flinched at the slight octave drop of his already soft voice. Another sigh of loss, you put back the cup. Wonwoo slowly let go of your arm to let you walk around the bar counter.

It’s now a whole new view. Wonwoo is sitting right next to you and you can definitely smell his cologne. Even just one second of eye contact, you couldn’t handle it. How does one’s gaze be so soft and comforting? You dart your eyes and cover them with your hands with elbows on the table.

“Just… let's just finish this. I already feel ridiculous.”

All you can catch with your ears was his soft chuckle and fabric rustling, “you wanna get to know me right?”

You feel his fingers snake around your wrist, gently pulling your hands away from your face. Seeing his face up close does not help even one bit, you feel even more like shit of how messy and pathetic you must’ve looked.

“That… “friend”, is my future sister-in-law,” he starts,

Your eyeballs could probably see the back of your head as you whip your head away in another embarrassment, “Ugh, Wonwoo, enough of that,”

“Which is why we were so stressed we had to talk about it on our own. My brother’s marriage is on the line.”

You hear his tone indicating him smiling whilst explaining. To be frank, you kind of already gave up the moment his voice dropped an octave lower. All you can do now is just to sit next to Wonwoo with his thumb drawing circles on your palm.

“It’s not stupid,” he softly assures, fingertips a little cold from sheltering the rain earlier. But it does feel so to you. Stupid crush at the ripe age of your 20s. Great.

“So can I get to know you then?”

You look up at him, desperate for his answer and decision.

“Only if I get to know you, too. Here,”

He taps his finger to the table, hand still not letting go of yours. You make sure once more, “like right here?”

He nods, “until today’s first customer.”

You’re not sure if the smile on your lips is for him or just out of embarrassment, “Well technically you are one,” you chuckle, “at least let me put this back to the kitchen.”

Well, now that your stupid crush issue is all clear, you can finally find the courage to look at his face one more time, no meddling. All you can focus on was the soft and playful beam on his eyes behind that thick specs.

“Tell Kouji-san you got a date tonight.”

[18:06] sensei [18:06] i might have to clock off early

[18:12] Oh sure, something’s up?

[18:13] yeah umm [18:13] i just booked myself a date

[18:14] Oooh [18:14] Hahaha [18:14] About time that wonwoo

[18:14] ??? [18:14] sensei???

—

[m.list]

im bout to make a “try not writing scenario about another meet cute at 3 am” challenge (already failed)

#wonwoo scenarios #svt scenarios #wonwoo x reader #svt x reader #neruites #i need to take a title making lesson bcs wtf does that even mean brother #might update this later #guess what time again i finished this...#3 am youre so right #wr:wonwoo #wonwoo #wonwoo drabble #svt drabble #wonwoo fluff #svt fluff #svt imagines #wonwoo imagines

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wonubby · 5 months ago

Text

fell in luv - itoshi rin

CHAPTER 02: HOMEWORK SUCKS!

SYPNOSIS Rin Itoshi thought life was all about football—until Y/N L/N and their chaotic group of friends proved otherwise. Now, he’s stuck navigating late-night hangouts, dumb arguments, and way too much teasing—all while somehow being hopelessly in love. It’s a story of laughter, love, and Rin just trying (and failing) to keep his cool.

a/n: HI GUYS please ignore the "prankshit" watermark.. im on laptop so making these are pretty hard

written part after all the pics!

< prev masterlist next >

as the door to rin itoshi's room burst open, four teens stood frozen, mouths agape in shock.

there, in the dim light, was rin—shirtless—locked in a kiss with a fully clothed y/n. at the sudden intrusion, the love-struck pair jolted apart, scrambling in a flustered mess to compose themselves.

eita let out an exasperated sigh, crossing his arms. "and what did i fucking say, riya?" he muttered, clearly salty that no one had listened to him.

riya side-eyed the boy beside her. "okay, eita, congrats. you were right this one time and, for once, not thinking with your dick—no one cares." she turned to y/n. "you promised to help me with my homework, which is why we're here. get up."

without hesitation, riya shoved rin off y/n, earning herself a sharp glare from the irritated striker.

"i thought i told you we were busy," rin grumbled, clearly annoyed that their date had been so rudely interrupted.

y/n, ever the peacemaker, gave him a reassuring smile. "it's fine, rin. i really did promise to help her. once we're done, they'll leave, and we can pick up where we left off."

naomi scratched her neck, glancing awkwardly to the side. "about that... your mom insisted we stay over since it's pretty late. we tried to say no, but she wouldn't let up."

a pillow smacked her straight in the face.

"rin, what the fuck!" naomi screamed, ready to lunge at him if she wasn’t being held back.

"deserved," rin muttered.

eita, watching the chaos unfold, grinned from ear to ear. "this is more entertaining than a movie."

"yeah, and we're the ones stuck in the middle of it," riya shot back, clearly unimpressed by the situation. "thanks, rin."

naomi, now fuming, rubbed her cheek where the pillow had hit. "you guys are unbelievable."

"you were the one who knocked on my door," rin retorted, leaning back on the couch.

"right, and you couldn't just act normal for once?" naomi grumbled.

yukimiya kenyu, who had been quietly observing the drama from the corner, finally spoke up, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "this is why i don't do sleepovers. too much drama."

y/n rolled her eyes from where she was sitting, barely looking up. "yeah, because we all love being dragged into this shitshow," she muttered, taking a swig from her drink. "honestly, i just want to go to sleep."

riya shot her a glare but didn't respond.

"well, we're here now, might as well make it fun, right?" kenyu suggested with a grin, flopping down beside y/n.

y/n shot him a deadpan look. "fun? really? because this feels more like a disaster waiting to happen."

"you're such a buzzkill," eita laughed.

"i'm just being honest," y/n shrugged, clearly uninterested in the idea of any fun.

"so... not even a little fun?" naomi pushed, trying to lighten the mood.

y/n raised an eyebrow. "fun for you guys, maybe."

"oh, come on, y/n," eita whined, nudging her with his elbow. "you gotta admit, this is pretty hilarious."

"i'll admit that you are pretty annoying," y/n shot back, not missing a beat. "but hey, that's nothing new."

riya, now sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolled her eyes. "please don’t start with your crap, y/n. we already have enough chaos without you adding to it."

"chaos?" y/n snorted, raising her glass. "this is a disaster. i don’t know what you’re all on about."

"it's fun in its own way," yukimiya said, finally showing a hint of amusement. "no one's getting hurt. just... loudly inconvenienced."

rin, who had been watching the back-and-forth with mild annoyance, groaned. "i'm literally right here, and you're all treating this like some kind of sitcom."

"you're just mad 'cause we ruined your romantic evening," eita teased, flashing him a smirk. "shoulda locked the door, man."

"next time, maybe i will," rin muttered, sinking back into the couch.

y/n, still leaning back and sipping her drink, shot a look at riya. "so, homework? wanna get it over with so i can leave and pretend this nightmare never happened?"

riya nodded quickly, relief spreading across her face. "finally! thank you!"

the group had somehow made it through the night without any more major drama—though the tension still lingered in the air. the homework was finished (with plenty of y/n’s sarcastic commentary along the way), and now everyone was scattered around the room, occupying the floor or leaning against the walls.

y/n, sprawled out on rin's bed, shot a glance at him, who had finally relaxed. "well, that wasn’t so bad. you can go back to sulking now."

rin raised an eyebrow but said nothing, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

otoya, leaning against the wall, grinned. "i think we've survived the worst of it. unless rin decides to start throwing stuff again."

"i could. don’t tempt me," rin muttered, his eyes half-closed as he joined y/n on the bed.

naomi, sitting on the floor near the door, raised her head from her phone with a sigh. "so, is this how it’s gonna be now? just... awkward silence until someone explodes?" she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "because i’m already over this whole 'sleepover' vibe."

"you think we’re gonna explode? i think we’re already there," eita said, his voice dry as he kicked his feet up onto a nearby chair. "too many personalities in one room."

"you can always leave, naomi," yukimiya added lazily, glancing up from his phone, a bored look on his face. "not like you’re forced to stay."

naomi shot him a side-eye. "i tried to leave earlier, but someone’s mom insisted we stay over." she shot a look at rin, who only shrugged in response.

y/n let out a loud groan, slumping further into the bed. "this night is like a car crash that just keeps going. i can’t wait for it to end."

"tell me about it," naomi muttered, leaning back against the doorframe. "who knew spending time with you guys would be worse than studying for finals?"

rin sighed. "so this is how it’s gonna be, huh? a bunch of loud idiots trying to make something out of nothing." he shot a glance at y/n. "i mean, i’d prefer some peace too, but this isn’t really the vibe i was expecting."

"well, we’re here now, so suck it up," y/n shot back, not bothering to sit up.

naomi looked at rin, then at y/n, and shook her head. "you two are impossible. you know that, right?"

"impossible?" rin smirked. "you guys were the ones who walked in here uninvited. i wasn’t expecting anything but chaos."

"no kidding," eita chimed in, kicking back in the corner. "next time, let’s not follow y/n’s ‘invite,’ huh?"

yukimiya, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up, his voice bored but tinged with amusement. "honestly, i’m just waiting for someone to do something interesting. this is too much talking, not enough action."

otoya snickered. "you’re just waiting for a pillow fight, aren’t you?"

y/n snorted from the bed. "if anyone starts a pillow fight, i’m out. i’m not that desperate for entertainment."

"and there’s the real y/n," riya muttered with a roll of her eyes. "always a pain in the ass."

"thank you, i try," y/n replied sarcastically, finally propping herself up on one elbow.

rin gave her a smirk, clearly used to her attitude. "you really know how to kill the mood, huh?"

"someone’s got to do it," she muttered, smirking back at him. "besides, this whole ‘sleepover’ thing was never my idea of fun."

rin leaned closer, his voice softer, more affectionate. "but you’re stuck with me now."

y/n met his gaze, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "guess i’ll survive," she replied, her tone a mix of sarcasm and something a little sweeter.

rin’s smirk softened into a real smile as he nudged her gently. "you say that now, but i think you’re secretly enjoying it."

y/n rolled her eyes but leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder as the room fell back into a quiet, comfortable lull. despite the chaos, this was somehow the most peaceful moment of the night.

taglist: @levihanmyotp @x3nafix @@yourlocaleffy

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girlsz1 · 2 months ago

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1 Point | New Places, New faces

3,257 words…

6:00 AM. You had set your alarm for exactly 6:00 AM sharp. But… you woke up 15 minutes earlier—5:45 AM. You didn’t mind, though. It gave you a little extra time to prepare for what would undoubtedly be a life-changing day. After all, going to another country isn’t just another day.

The blaring sound of your phone’s radar alarm jolted you fully awake. Groaning softly, you reached over, fumbling with your hand to tap the “turn off” button. You missed a few times before finally silencing it.

“So annoying,” you muttered under your breath, your heart still racing from the abrupt wake-up call. Taking a deep breath, you sighed in relief before sitting up, pushing the covers aside. Slowly, you stood and made your way to the bathroom, the cool tiles under your feet grounding you in the moment.

After brushing your teeth, you stood in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection. Your thoughts wandered as you debated whether or not to change your hairstyle. You weren’t a big fan of standing out, and you’d kept the same style since you were a child. A small part of you wondered if now was the time for a change.

Ultimately you came to a conclusion and decided to switch it up a bit. Closing the bathroom door behind, you walk back into your room. The nerves begin to settle in your stomach again as you wonder how everything will go. You’re about to head to a completely different country, after all.

Just then, you hear a soft knock on your door. It’s your mom.

“Can I come in?” she asks, her voice full of warmth. Instead of just saying yes, you walk towards the door and open it for her. Her expression is soft as she sees you getting ready. “Are you alright?” she asks, leaning against the doorframe.

You shrug, not entirely sure how to express the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “Excited, but nervous of course.”

“It’s completely normal to feel that way. But don’t worry, you’re gonna do great.”

As she picks up the small pile of items you’ve forgotten to pack, your dad enters the room, his expression more serious than usual but still supportive. “You ready to go?” he asks, clearly trying to keep the mood light. “We should head to the airport soon.”

Your stomach flutters as you nod. This is happening. You’re really going.

The drive to the airport feels long, but it’s a comforting kind of long. Your mom talks about how excited she is for you, while your dad remains mostly quiet, occasionally glancing at you in the rearview mirror, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and concern.

Then that’s when you feel a DING! DING! DING! From inside your right pocket of your pants.

The sound of your phone vibrating in your pocket is sudden, piercing through the silence of the moment. You hesitate for a second, then pull your phone out quickly, eyes widening as the screen lights up with your friends’ names. The instant you see the messages, a familiar knot of emotions tightens in your chest.

Friend1: BROOO YOURE REALLY LEAVING US?

Friend2: She’s a traitor 😔

Friend3: Better send pics.🤨

You stare at the words for a long moment, the sting of their playful teasing making your heart ache. You never thought it would feel this heavy. The weight of their words, the pressure of leaving it all behind, starts to settle over you like a blanket. Despite yourself, a grin spreads across your face as you quickly type out a response.

You: BRO 😭

You chuckle, but it’s a hollow sound. The phone goes quiet again, but your hands still tremble as you stare at the screen. A pang of guilt lingers in your chest, making it hard to breathe. You slip your phone back into your pocket and close your eyes, the weight of your decision pressing down on you harder than before.

Suddenly, without warning, your mind drifts back, pulling you into the past, to the very moment everything changed.

It had been a normal school day at first. The kind of day where everything felt ordinary — until the announcement. The voice on the loudspeaker was almost too calm as it cut through the murmur of the classrooms.

“Please excuse this interruption. Y/n L/n please come down to room 125. Y/n L/n please come down toro ok 125. Thank you.”

Your heart stopped. It was a simple request, but the way it echoed through the hallway, bouncing off the walls, sent a chill down your spine. You were confused at first, not sure why you had been called. You hadn’t done anything wrong, or at least, nothing that would require a trip to the office.

You were frozen for a few seconds, as if your feet had turned to stone. Taking a deep breath before standing up and walking out the door. Your footsteps seemed louder than usual, each one echoing in the hall, as you made your way to the office.

The door creaked when you pushed it open. The air smelled sterile, a mix of disinfectant and paper, but it was the feeling of being there that unsettled you the most. The silence felt heavy, suffocating.

There, seated at a desk, was the school counselor — Ms. Cornell. “Y/n?,” Ms..Cornell said, her tone polite but with an underlying hint of something you couldn’t quite place. You nodded.

“Please, have a seat.”

You slowly walked over and sat in the chair across from her, not knowing what to expect. She slid a thick envelope across the desk toward you, and your eyes caught the official-looking stamp at the top — Transfer Papers. Your heart skipped a beat.

You glanced up, confused. “What’s this?” you asked.

The teacher sitting beside Ms.Cornel cleared her throat. “It’s official. You’ve been selected for an exchange program,” she said in a tone that was almost too calm for your liking. “It’s a big opportunity. You’ll be leaving soon, and we just need your signature on the paperwork to finalize everything.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your mind going blank for a moment. You blinked, trying to process what he had just said. “Wait, what do you mean ‘selected’?” you asked, your voice trembling despite yourself. You hadn’t applied for anything like this.

Ms. Cornell smiled kindly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s an international program,” she said. “You’ll be going to Japan.”

The words hit you like a truck. Your stomach twisted, and your palms went clammy. “But… I never signed up for anything like that,” you whispered, more to yourself than to anyone else.

“I know,” she said, her voice soft, almost apologetic. “But you’ve been chosen based on certain criteria. It’s all set up. All that’s left is for you to sign.”

You looked down at the papers in front of you. Your mind raced. Was this a mistake? How could they decide something like this for you without even asking?

But the pressure in the room was palpable. The quiet expectation in their eyes made it impossible to argue. They were waiting for you to sign. And for some reason, you couldn’t find it in yourself to refuse.

The flashback ends, and you’re back in the present. The weight of the situation hits you all over again. You’d never thought it would come to this. Never thought you’d be leaving everything behind.

You press your hand against the window, your reflection staring back at you with uncertainty. How did it come to this? You had no answers, but you knew one thing for sure: There was no going back now.

The familiar pull of homesickness starts to seep in, and you bite your lip, trying to hold back the overwhelming rush of emotions threatening to spill over.

You kept telling yourself that there really is no turning back now. You were so focused on the fact that you were going to another country you almost forgot the school you would be going to.

Shiratorizawa Academy.

A private high school in Sendai, the capital of Miyagi Prefecture. That’s all you knew… until Ms.Cornell added more information about the highschool saying it’s prestigious and extremely hard to get into. So how the hell did you manage to get a spot? Now that you think about it… you’re sure you would be the center of attention.

As the car comes to a stop, your parents look back at you before all three of you exit the car. You all said your goodbyes and that was it. It’s not like you just had to look forward and never look back. Of course, you would text your friends and family whenever you had the chance. Sigh… Everything really changed in just a few days.

Being on a plane was scary. You couldn’t really see what was on the ground. You made note to yourself to occasionally drink water and to take deep breaths now and then. Might as well play some relaxing music to help soothe anxiety.

You close your eyes and lean your head against the window. The relaxing music is already starting to calm your racing thoughts. You inhale slowly, letting the soft hum of the engine blend with the melody. For a moment, it feels like you’re floating—between countries, between lives.

When you open your eyes again, the sun is peeking through the clouds, painting the sky in streaks of orange and gold. looks almost unreal—like something out of a movie. For a second, you forget where you are. Then the soft chime of an announcement brings you back.

Here’s a natural continuation from that beautiful line, keeping the tone soft and reflective:

When you open your eyes again, the sun is peeking through the clouds, painting the sky in streaks of orange and gold. It looks almost unreal—like something out of a movie. For a second, you forget where you are. Then the soft chime of an announcement brings you back.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing shortly at Sendai International Airport. Please ensure your seatbelts are fastened.”

You sit up a little straighter and glance out the window again. The ground is slowly coming into view—tiny buildings, ribbons of road, patches of green. Everything feels distant yet so close at the same time. You swallow hard, nerves creeping in again.

This is really happening, you think. You’re really here.

Buzz! Buzz!

You glance down at your phone, the vibration snapping you out of your thoughts. Probably your friends or family—or both—checking in to see if you’ve landed safely. Now would be a good time to let them know.

You swipe open your screen.

One message from Mom.

One from your best friend.

And one from an unknown number.

You pause at the last one.

Unknown Number: Hi! I’m Emi! The school gave me your number. I’m your host!—I’ll be waiting right outside arrivals with a sign that says your name! I’m really excited to meet you!!

Emi? Who the hell is.. Emi? At first you were confused as to how this “Emi” girl got your number, but then you realized the papers you signed for this exchange program.

Right. That makes sense. You sigh, tucking your phone away and gripping the handle of your suitcase a little tighter.

You walk through the terminal, following the flow of passengers toward the glass doors of the arrival gate. The moment you step outside, the air hits you—a mix of crisp coolness and unfamiliar smells. You barely have a second to take it all in before—

“Y/n?” a bright voice calls out.

You blink, and there she is.

A girl with short brown hair and a wide grin, holding a sign with your name on it in glittery, slightly crooked letters. She’s bouncing slightly on her toes like she’s been waiting forever.

“I knew it was you! You look just like your photo! Welcome to Japan!!”

You freeze for half a second, caught off guard by how loud—and fast—she talks. The glittery sign in her hands is half-folded from how tightly she’s been holding it, and her smile is way too bright for someone who’s been standing around an airport.

“…Hi,” you say, a little quieter than you meant to.

Emi doesn’t seem to notice. She bounces in place once, then grabs the handle of your suitcase like it’s second nature.

“I’m so glad you made it! The flight wasn’t too bad, right? Oh! Do you need water? Or snacks? I brought snacks!”

You stare at her, unsure if you should say something or just let her keep going.

“…I’m okay,” you manage.

She beams like you just gave her the best answer in the world. “Cool! Then let’s get going! My mom’s waiting in the car, and I can’t wait to show you your room!”

And just like that, you’re being whisked away—jetlagged, overwhelmed, and dragging behind a girl who acts like you’ve known each other for years.

The parking lot isn’t far, but with Emi walking three steps ahead and talking the whole way, it feels like a blur. Her voice rises and falls like background music—half of it you catch, half of it gets lost in the haze of your tired brain.

By the time you reach the car, a woman rolls down the window and waves. She looks just like Emi but older—same friendly smile, same bright eyes.

“Y/n, right?” she says warmly. “Welcome! I’m Emi’s mom.”

You nod before sliding into the backseat. Emi jumps in next to you, tossing your suitcase into the trunk like it weighs nothing.

The car pulls out of the lot, and the city of Sendai starts to pass by through the window—narrow streets, vending machines on nearly every corner, signs written entirely in Japanese. You lean your head back and exhale slowly.

“Excited?” Emi asks from beside you, twisting in her seat to face you. “Nervous? Or like… both?”

You hesitate before answering. “Both,” you admit quietly.

“I knew it,” she grins. “That’s how I felt when we hosted someone last year. Don’t worry, though—you’ll get used to everything super fast. And I’ll help, okay?”

You nod slowly, your eyes drifting back to the window. It’s strange—being in a completely different country with someone you just met, and yet… There's something oddly comforting about Emi’s energy.

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small snack packet, offering it to you without hesitation. “You should eat. You’ve been in the air for like, what, 12 hours? You need fuel.”

You glance down at the snack, then up at her.

“…Thanks.”

“No problem,” she chirps. “That’s what sisters are for.”

You blink.

Sisters?

She smiles again and leans back in her seat, humming to herself like everything is completely normal.

“Soooo.. do you know the school you're going to?” Emi asks. Her eyes staring directly into yours.

You look down at your hands then at her. “Shiratorizawa Academy, a private high school in Sendai.”

Emi grins at your response. “Hm! So, you did research. That’s good, but did you know that the school you’re going to is prestigious?”

You tilt your head, confused. “Prestigious? Is the school that good?”

Emi nods fast. “Oh yes. Their volleyball team is a damn powerhouse. Not to mention, the entrance exam is extremely difficult. You either get in by passing the entrance exam or… through sports scholarships. So, in other words: you’re very lucky!”

Squinting your eyes a bit, you think about how much Emi knows about this school. “How do you know so much about this school?”

“By passing the entrance exam! And I’m also a part of their cheer team!”

There was a moment of silence between you guys.

The car hums along the road, the sound of tires rolling over pavement filling the space between you.

“…So we’ll be classmates?” you ask, breaking the quiet.

Emi turns to you with a proud nod. “Yup! I’ll show you around. Trust me, it’s a maze if you don’t know where to go.”

You nod, still processing everything. Prestigious? Powerhouse? Entrance exams? You hadn’t thought much about the school’s reputation—just that it was part of the exchange program and the application went through. Now, you feel the pressure creeping in.

“You okay?” Emi asks, suddenly serious.

You glance at her. “Yeah. Just… hoping I won’t mess anything up.”

She tilts her head, then gently nudges your arm with her elbow. “You won’t. You’re here for a reason.”

You don’t reply, but for the first time, the knot in your stomach loosens—just a little.

The car turns down a quieter street, lined with homes and trees, and Emi leans forward, pointing excitedly. “That’s our house! The one with the green mailbox!”

You spot it immediately—small, cozy-looking, and a little different from what you’re used to. But it’s kind of… cute.

As the car slows to a stop in front of the driveway, Emi beams. “Ready to see your new home?”

The car slows to a stop, and Emi’s already halfway out the door before the engine even shuts off. “Come on! I’ll show you everything!”

You step out and take a slow breath. The neighborhood is quiet. Peaceful. Birds chirp faintly in the distance, and a soft breeze rustles the trees. Emi grabs your suitcase with surprising ease and leads you up the path toward the house.

Inside, it smells faintly of fresh rice and something sweet—maybe tea? The hallway is narrow but warm, with slippers neatly lined up by the door.

“Here,” Emi says, handing you a pair of indoor slippers. “House rule: no outside shoes past this point. My mom’s super strict about it.”

You slip them on and follow her as she walks backward up the hallway, excitedly pointing things out.

“That’s the bathroom—don’t worry, I’ll explain how the bathtub works later. This is the living room, and that’s the kitchen. Oh! And this”—she stops at a door—“is your room!”

She pushes it open.

It’s small, but cozy. A futon is already set up, the sheets crisp and clean. There’s a low wooden desk under the window and a few small storage drawers neatly stacked in the corner. The walls are bare, but there’s a feeling of quiet comfort here.

“I cleaned it up myself,” Emi says proudly. “You can decorate it however you want. There’s a closet, and we have extra blankets if it gets cold.”

You set your bag down and stand in the center of the room, taking it all in.

“…Thanks,” you say, your voice soft but sincere.

“No problem! I’m just down the hall if you need anything.” She gives you a wink. “Now, come on—Mom made dinner!”

The evening passes quietly. Emi’s mom serves a simple but delicious meal—miso soup, grilled fish, and rice. You try to follow their rhythm, using chopsticks carefully, and Emi occasionally whispers helpful reminders like “left hand under the bowl” or “just slurp, it’s okay here.”

After dinner, you retreat to your room. The jet lag hits hard now, your body heavy with exhaustion. You unpack a little—just enough to feel human—and then collapse onto the futon, staring up at the ceiling.

Outside the window, the cicadas hum.

You’re far from home. In a country that speaks a different language. Living with strangers.

But… It doesn't feel bad.

You close your eyes, whispering to yourself, “I made it.”

And soon, sleep takes over

Tag List: @celestialm1nd @ohheyitsrowan @randomhumans-blog

#hq ushijima #hq x you #hq x reader #hq fluff #hq fanfic #hq #fanfic #ushijima x reader #ushijima Wakatoshi #ushiwaka #ushijima x you #haikyuu #Haikyuu fanfic

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yukidragon · 24 days ago

Text

Sunny Day Jack - Coming Clean Teaser

It's my birthday so I've been spoiling myself with treats. I've decided to share one such treat with all of you, which involves shameless self-indulgence with my OTP. It's inspired by a certain spicy audio drama from a while back that I got the green light to make fanfiction for.

Content Warning: Although this story isn't graphic (yet), it centers around the topic of sex, horny urges, and nudity, so it's definitely NSFW.

I originally intended to wait until this fun tale of spice was finished before posting it, but it's been sitting in my WIP pile for far too long, and I want to share it already. So here's the unpolished and unfinished teaser for a story about Jack being desperately horny for his sunshine. Meanwhile, Alice contemplates her own horny thoughts about him... and what she should do about them.

I hope you enjoy this spicy snippet. Please consider leaving a comment on this or any of my other stories if you do. Nice comments always make my day, and they also make fantastic birthday gifts. ;3

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

Oh, as a bonus, I used this picrew maker to make a pic that fits the mood of the story. It was fun throwing in a picrew themed around my recent NSFW post about Joseph and Mary, so I decided to do it again.

The picture might not be 100% accurate to how Alice and Jack look, but at least I edited in some blue for his hair, hahaha.

...

Jack sighed in contentment as he entered the bedroom - their bedroom. Being here always brought him such peace. It was a place of rest to cuddle with his beloved sunshine and hold her all night long to ensure that the two of them would only have the sweetest dreams. Now that he and Alice were finally, finally officially together as a real couple at long last, he no longer felt like a guest in this room. He was no longer merely a friend keeping her company at night to chase the nightmares away while she slept.

The thought brought Jack back to the other night when he carried Alice to the bed after she finally confessed her love for him. He vividly remembered the heat of her body in his arms, the way he felt her heartbeat thrumming hard and fast against his chest as he held her so close against him.

Jack wanted to make love to her then and there. He wanted to finally become one with her so, so badly. They came close, so close; he could still feel the warmth of her soft body pinned beneath him on the bed and the excitement that she stirred in him with every kiss they shared. Unfortunately, her hesitation and overwhelmed nerves stopped them from going further than kisses and some tender touches despite how badly he wanted more.

Soon, Jack reassured himself with another, much more wistful sigh. They were together now. Alice finally admitted her love for him. He was her boyfriend, her partner, her lover, her one and only, forever. Eventually, she would be ready for them to use the bed they shared for more than just sleep and cuddle time. Soon, my love…

That very bed that Jack had so dutifully made that morning was now marred by the sight of a colorful uniform strewn across it carelessly, with pants drooping off the bed and halfway to turning into a messy puddle on the floor. He was taken aback that he failed to notice the mess sooner before letting out a rueful little laugh as he wryly shook his head. “Always leaving a trail of clothes behind, aren’t you?”

Jack gathered up the discarded clothes before sparing a fond look towards the bathroom door with a gentle smile. The sound of running water told him that Alice was getting cleaned up after a long day at work. “It’s okay,” he chuckled, his voice soft with affection. “I know you’re tired.” He held her discarded shirt close to his chest. “That’s why I’m here. As long as I’m with you, I’ll take care of you in every way.”

Maybe it was just his imagination, but Jack could swear that he felt a lingering trace of his sunshine’s warmth in her clothes. He caught the delicious scent of sugar cookies and vanilla cupcakes that he came to associate with Alice, filling him with a perverse temptation.

Jack cast a more furtive look towards the bathroom door this time. “You wouldn’t mind if I took a little whiff, would you?” he whispered, as if just the act of saying the words out loud might make what he wanted to do just a little less… naughty. “Just a little… please?”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh weakly at himself. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. He brought the shirt to his face and breathed it in. The sugary scents of cookies and cupcakes filled his lungs along with an even sweeter scent that he couldn’t readily name, but he knew it more intimately than anything. It was the same as the flavor he tasted whenever he kissed Alice.

The hints of her warmth and smell washed over Jack, and he moaned as memories of her soft body pinned beneath him filled his mind and caused heat to pool in his belly. He vividly remembered the taste of her lips, those sweet tentative initial kisses they shared that soon grew wet and hot. He loved to drink deeply of her flavor once he coaxed her into parting her lips for him and allowed him inside. The scent of Alice mingled with the confectionary perfume reminded him of the taste of her skin when he moved on to show love to her neck next. He wanted to know how she tasted all over, but he only just made it past her collarbone, barely enough to start exploring the soft hint of her cleavage with his lips, before things came to a maddening halt.

“Alice…,” Jack moaned before he breathed in deep again, his body burning from her scent and the memory. He could still vividly remember the way her body melded just perfectly with his, how his hardness pressed into the plush softness of her thighs. His excitement betrayed him and overwhelmed her that night when she noticed how hard he was for her.

What Jack wouldn’t have given for things to have gone differently that night. “You smell so sweet, Sunshine…” A shuddering breath escaped him in a near whimper. He had been so close… so close and yet so far. “You don’t know what you do to me.” He breathed her in again, wishing that he was holding Alice instead of her clothes at that moment. “Just your very scent teases me so much…”

Jack turned a longing gaze to the bathroom door as a sigh escaped him, looking to all the world like a lonely puppy waiting for his master to return home. He wished that they could go back to that night and try again. He couldn’t, wouldn’t have rushed Alice into anything that she wasn’t comfortable with, but maybe he could have done better. He could’ve made smarter decisions that night, gone slower… helped relax those fears that made her so intimidated by something that he knew would be nothing short of beautiful for both of them. She had been so excited that night, just like he had been, just like he was now, but it wasn’t enough to overcome the whirlwind of fears whipping through her mind so fast that he could only catch a few snippets of them at the time.

Fortunately, Alice didn’t keep Jack at a distance after things ended so abruptly that night. If anything, she was scared that wanting to stop would make her lose him and their newfound closeness. The very idea that his love for her could be so fragile was absurd, but her fears were anything but funny. He remembered the relief she radiated when he reassured her that it was okay to stop at any time, that he would still love her no matter what they did or didn’t do…

…That her comfort and needs mattered more than his lustful desires.

They hadn’t gone further since that night, but they touched each other more often, kissed more. Jack loved every moment, adored every sweet gesture Alice made to show that she loved him as more than a friend, even if the idea of making love intimidated her. It was especially sweet when she initiated contact with him, even surprising him with quick stolen kisses that he was only too eager to turn into something much deeper and more lingering.

Alice was as sweet as the scent of her that was driving him crazy at that very moment.

No matter how badly Jack ached to feel her naked body against his, no matter how desperate he was to be inside of her, he would wait for Alice to be ready to take every bit of his love… no matter how long it took.

No matter how crazy the wait drove him.

That didn’t mean that it was easy though, especially not when Jack felt ready to burst, as the sweet scent of Alice left his mind reeling with thoughts of her and just how delicious she tasted. He couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped him, and he buried the needy sound in the soft fabric of her shirt as he breathed her in again. He shifted uncomfortably in place, his pants now unbearably tight as they strained to contain his arousal. “I wish I could be there in the shower with you…”

…

Alice sighed in frustration. Showers were supposed to be relaxing after a hard day at work, but it had been barely a minute before the heat started to get to her… and it wasn’t because of the temperature of the water.

It was her own fault, Alice supposed. With a roommate like Jack around, the only place she could reliably masturbate in private was in the shower, which she had been doing with increasing frequency as the two of them had gotten closer and their relationship deepened into something much more significant.

Thoughts of Jack made the heat worse. Alice thought about how wonderful it was when he took her in his embrace, his large body completely surrounding her with heat and love. He was so strong, she could feel the power in his muscles, yet he was so gentle and tender with her. He was so careful not to hurt her.

When Alice noticed that she was stroking her arms in a pale imitation of his caress, she immediately stopped and let out a frustrated sigh. Touching herself like that only made her longing for Jack worse. It also made her feel guilty. She knew that it was wrong to think about a real person while masturbating. It was shameful. She could only imagine how Jack would feel if he found out that she thought about him touching her naked body and…

The absurdity of the thought struck Alice hard, along with the memory of the other night. The heat got worse as she vividly remembered the feeling of Jack on top of her, pinning her to the bed, while a part of him was so unmistakably excited. He couldn’t hold back those feelings… because of her.

Why would Jack be upset if Alice had horny thoughts about him? He certainly had them about her! She felt the proof herself! She was the one who pumped the brakes when his engines were revved up and ready to go.

They were in a relationship now. Jack… Jack was her boyfriend now. Jack loved her. At times, Allice could barely believe it, but she could feel that it was true every time he told her. Every tender look and touch he gave her resonated with his love. He desired her, but was holding back for her sake.

Why the hell was Alice trying so desperately to avoid thinking sexy thoughts about Jack when she could just… invite him to join her?

The idea was as tempting as it was intimidating. Doubts crept in to challenge her horny urges, but Alice remembered how gentle Jack was with her. He stopped when she was uncomfortable and reassured her when he noticed that she felt guilty for it. Stopping didn’t ruin things between them.

Jack was always so gentle with her. He always treated Alice with so much care, so much love. Sometimes she wondered what she had done to deserve someone so sweet and attentive to her needs. He had been so eager that night, she could practically feel how badly he ached for her, yet he didn’t force her to take responsibility for his urges. He didn’t beg her or make her feel guilty for hesitating.

He didn’t make her feel like a shitty partner for not being ready to get fucked.

“It’s okay if we stop here tonight,” Jack reassured her before kissing her forehead soothingly. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset. There are plenty of ways to show someone you love them, and stopping when you’re not ready to go further is just another way for me to show you just how much I love you, Sunshine.”

The memory of his soothing words resonated through Alice and steeled her nerves. She twisted the knob to shut off the water and stepped out of the shower before she could waver in her resolve. She reached for a towel, only to realize it was silly to cover up if she was really going through with this.

After taking a deep breath to brace herself, Alice opened the door just enough to peer out through the crack. To her surprise, she spotted Jack already standing in her bedroom, hastily stuffing clothes into her laundry hamper. “Jack?”

The sound of Alice’s voice made Jack jolt, though he was quick to hide the reaction behind a cheerful smile that he threw her way. “S-sunshine!” He tried to act calm despite the slight hitch to his breathless voice. He had only just unzipped his pants when he heard the water turn off, which forced him into a mad scramble to make himself look presentable. Presentable in this case meaning looking like he had been doing just about anything else besides getting ready to jerk off while sniffing her shirt. He made sure to stand at an angle where she couldn’t see the tent in his pants as he tried to will his body to calm down. “F-finished so soon? Did…” He paused to take a breath and attempted to speak more naturally. “Did you forget something?”

Alice blinked in confusion at his strange behavior. “Um… no. Are you okay, or…?”

“Oh, I’m fine and dandy lemon candy!” Jack said quickly before a nervous chuckle escaped him. “Don’t worry, I was just cleaning up a bit. You left your clothes all strewn across the bed. I didn’t want you to come back to a messy room.” He had to pause for a moment to clear the dryness from his throat. “Only the best for my beloved.”

The pet name sent a flutter through Alice’s chest, turning her cheeks a flushed shade of pink. Jack really was so thoughtful, always thinking of her and taking care of her. It helped her feel a little more certain about her decision. “Thank you, Jack, but you don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble,” Jack said as he flashed her another smile. “It’s what I’m here for after all. I’m here to take care of you. I’ll take care of anything you need, just say the word.”

Alice felt that was as good of a lead in as she was going to get. “In that case, do you mind helping me… ah w-wash my hair?”

Though she tried to keep her tone casual to keep her nerves from getting the better of her, her voice shook a little in spite of herself, and she felt silly for phrasing the invitation that way.

Jack stared at Alice with wide, incredulous eyes, and for a moment he was convinced that he must have misheard her. “Helping you…” His heart began to race as his earlier excitement came rushing back once more along with a euphoric sense of elation. “You want me to join you in the shower?”

“Y-yeah,” Alice said as her eyes struggled not to dart away from his blushing face. “If you want to, I mean.”

“Of course!” Jack answered without hesitation. “I’d love to take a bath with you, Sunshine.”

Alice clutched the doorknob a little tighter as Jack quickly closed the distance between them until only the door separated them. “U-um… Just… just so you know, I don’t think I’m ready to go… all the way yet, b-but if you’re okay with that we can, you know…” Her voice cracked a bit with nerves as her face burned a bright red. “T-take care of each other?”

Jack was too excited by the invitation to be disappointed by the limitation. Instead he offered Alice a tender, understanding smile. This time, he was going to do things right and soothe any fears and worries that held her back from embracing all of his love. “I’d love that, Alice,” he said gently. “We can do whatever you want, and we can stop whenever you need to. All I want to do is show you just how much I love you in whatever way makes you feel loved.”

Alice felt like her heart was ready to burst out of her chest at that gentle reassurance coupled with the tender look in those warm brown eyes of his that practically glowed with all the love and understanding in the world. She had to close her eyes to not feel overwhelmed by the sight of them. After taking another steadying breath, she gathered her courage to step back and open the door, inviting Jack inside.

She could only hope that he wouldn’t be disappointed when he finally saw for himself just what she had to offer him.

Everything was happening so quickly - Jack never expected Alice to invite him so soon without some prompting on his part - so seeing her waiting for him without even a towel to cover her modesty was a surprise, though a very, very welcome one. He went still as soon as the door opened, unable to do anything but stare at her with wide eyes to drink in every detail of the glorious sight she presented to him. She was all soft curves with pale skin occasionally accented with pink, the most prominent of being the blush that painted her cheeks.

Only one word could describe the sight before Jack. “Beautiful,” he breathed, not hiding the awe in his voice. “You’re so beautiful, Alice.”

For a moment, Alice couldn’t speak, caught breathless with too many emotions to name. His reaction sent her heart racing out of control and made the heat in her body grow, pooling in her core. She couldn’t remain still, shifting in place and needing desperately to do something with her hands as she fought the urge to cover herself. One hand fluttered by her side like the wings of a bird caught in a snare while the other reached for the towel hanging on the rack beside her to grope at the textured cloth. “Y… you don’t have to say that,” she finally managed to say, her voice coming out weak.

Jack caught her insecurities immediately. “Yes I do,” he insisted as he drew in closer. “You’re beautiful, Alice.” He gently took her restless hands in his, wordlessly inviting her to hold onto him instead to ground herself. “I’ve never met anyone as beautiful as you are… both inside and out.”

Reflexively, a part of Alice tried to deny it - the part of her that had been repeatedly reminded by the world practically her whole life that she wasn’t beautiful, sexy, or anything even close to worthy of the admiration she saw in those gentle brown eyes of his. The look Jack gave her wasn’t one of someone who saw past her body to see her inner beauty, but of someone who found beauty in her body as well, regardless of how flawed she felt. His tenderness couldn’t mask the hunger in his gaze that constantly strayed from her face to admire every inch of her naked body.

Alice shivered as Jack touched her cheek. He bent down closer to her, and she felt his warm breath dance across her lips when he spoke.

“Alice,” Jack breathed, his husky voice sending a shiver through her. His dark eyes met hers, smoldering with love and desire. “You’re perfect.”

The words were punctuated with a kiss that made Alice jolt a little in surprise, but she soon melted into him. It took every ounce of willpower for Jack to hold back the urge to pin her against the wall and allow his mouth and hands to roam across every sumptuous inch of her voluptuous body.

No, this was Jack’s second chance to do things right. He would take it slowly, as slow as Alice needed him to go so that she wouldn’t get overwhelmed again.

#Sunshine in Hell #Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #My Writing #Picrew Art #Jack #Alice King

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ficoandleo · 6 months ago

Note

For both: What do you like to do for the holidays?

"Which holidays? Like, all of them?"

"They mean Christmas and New Years."

". . .Oooh, you're some kind of. Westerner or whatever where you still think everyone in the world celebrates Christmas because you do. Wow. Okay, brace yourself, may wanna sit down for this one?" Leo pauses a bit for dramatic effect. "This is Japan. We're not a Christiancountry. We don't really celebrate Christmas here."

"He's right. It's not even a public holiday here. Nobody gets the day off unless you need it for religious reasons and winter break usually starts the day after for students. Most Japanese people don't celebrate Christmas in a major way unless they're some kind of Christian or they've got foreign family."

"Well Christmas is like a 'hang out with your friends or your lover "holiday"' so I always spend it with Sho-chan?" Of course, Leo spent most days with Sho before coming to Darkwick. Even after coming, they spend a lot of time together. "And I like doing streams for it--I've done a gift opening stream, I've made videos showing off and rating what's in the year's KFC Christmas menu with Sho-chan and our friends, I've done little walks around Christmas markets and showing off lights and displays, I'll show off whatever Christmassy food Sho-chan made if it looks like it'll trend. . . . I mostly just use it as a vaguely 'special stream' day. If people don't have friends to spend the day with, they can hang out with me and Sho--before we spend time with our friends, obviously♥

"Christmas Eve though is like a romantic day because. . .capitalism and the economy or something. It's actually cooled down in recent years but there's always stuff going on then to capitalize on couples, like really nice light displays and promotions in stores and restaurants. It's kind of like Valentine's Day for Japan. So I like to stream then too--for the singles. It's like going on a little 'date' with me. . .♥ I let the audience decide what we should check out for a while at a market or what light displays we should go see. But I've hung out with Sho-chan on Christmas Eve streams too--adds a little fuel to the 'oh my god they must be dating!!' fire and gets some buzz and rumors going~ Once the stream's done I'll do something with Sho if he wants--like we'll take advantage of couples gifts and promotions and stuff in shops or walk around and see if there're any cool decorations and displays to look at and take pics or whatever. We don't do a ton because restaurants are usually booked or super busy and Sho wants to cook for the impending Christmas party with our friends anyways, and he makes a ton of food so he gets started the day before when he can.

"After that I basically don't eat until like New Years because I had way too much food even when I'm not eating that much of it and I have to make up for it. But then it's New Years and I go see my parents--or, they came over last year--and we spend time together doing whatever they want. They still like to give me otoshidama even though I'm a grown man, but some of my fans do it too, digitally, so whatever. Aside from that we watch the first sunset and we do a shrine visit to get our fortunes and make wishes--trad stuff. But sometimes they wanna do stuff we didn't really get to do when I was young--so we'll fly kites or play games or just whatever they're in the mood for during the four day new years period.

"I don't normally stream at all with them, but they said they'd like to be on stream with me at least once so. . .maybe if I can't do anything cool for Christmas this year since Darkwick's shaping out to not have much to see, I can get a permit and do a New Years stream with them. It won't get many views but people might go for it since I don't really talk a ton about my family on stream? I might save it for after graduation."

". . .since coming to Japan the traditions are very different. Like Kurossa said, Christmas Eve is a sort of romance-focused day, so. . .ugh." Romeo scowls, glaring off to the side for a moment. Finally, he decided to open up, closing his eyes, pale cheeks dusting with pink. "The Boss doesn't really go for things like that. Highly romantic displays. But he would do things for me anyway, even after we got to Darkwick. We would go out, or he would give me gifts with more. Amorous intentions. And I enjoyed that, even if it wasn't traditional for me. . .I'm not expecting anything to happen this year, though. Christmas was more lowkey but he still let me enjoy Japanese Christmas traditions despite not being very interested in anything but food and presents anyway.

"Back home in Italy we had an elaborate nativity scene we would put together on the 8th--probably my favorite part of the Christmas season aside from gifts. It had moving mechanisms, even pumps for water for a moving river, and it wasn't just the manger in the barn, but essentially a whole town surrounding! We put up a tree too, of course, but that was far less interesting!! We would visit Christmas markets and so on too, and on Christmas Eve we would have fish for dinner--an old Catholic tradition where you abstain from meat for that day--and gifts were exchanged, and then we'd go to midnight Mass, of course. On Christmas we ate meat. They always made sure I ate far more than I ever wanted to. . . . The entire atmosphere is very different from Japan's, aside from the abundant decorations and lights. . . .

"New Years is even more different. Still he indulged me with things like shrine visits and fortunes, despite being able to guess what my fortune would say. Let me experience Japan's most important holiday. We even bought kimono for it. It's quite a bit. . .fancier, or maybe more solemn than Italian celebrations of the new year, where we have fireworks and parties in the streets. Ah, I still wear red underwear though."

"Yeah? Does your fancy, special new years underwear stay on your ass by the time the new year rolls around?"

". . .he keeps it on as long as he can bear it, and we've always made it to midnight before they end up somewhere else or ripped apart."

"Wow, proud of him!"

"Of course, since coming to Darkwick things are a little different. If we're still in probation I'm sure they'll have some sort of fortune slip giving and shrine set up in Hotarubi like they did last year, and I'll still go for my New Years Wish. I suppose watching the first sunrise from the deck of the ship will be nice too. We'd have a Christmas party with the rest of Sinostra, or drop by other Houses to see our friends. We'll exchange gifts. . .but the way I've been spending Christmas since I got here was trying to catch that fucking Reindeer. . . ."

"Oh yeah, you did mention there's some kind of rein--"

"The present-giving Reindeer! I'm going to catch it this year!! This will probably be my last chance, so it has to be this year!! Of course it manipulates time, so I always still have time for the party itself even after failing to catch it the previous years. . .but this year, I have to catch it. . . ."

"You're so fucking loud sometimes, I swear. . . . Anyways I think that covers everything? TL;DR: I stream and hang out with my friends on Christmas and spend time with my fam on New Years, and Romi-sama has a party and tries to catch some Christmas anomaly on Christmas, and then just does Japanese traditional stuff on New Years with Tai since he's here."

#present: romeo #present: leo #answers #anonymous #((Romeo's is understandably very Taiga x Romeo coded lol))#((now that i have spent the past idk couple hours skimming descriptions of Christmas and New Years traditions in two different countries...#((i am eepy and am gonna take a nap because i guess i did not sleep enough lol))

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coryothesub · 1 year ago

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Visual Stimulation

I’ll proceed with the asks tomorrow but currently I feel like there's a shameful lack of Sejanus smut across tbosas tags so I decided to fix that

Modern Sejanus is definitely the type of guy who has a secret OF account. Not for money purposes, he just feels like showing off sometimes and he loooooves the validation. He has never told Coryo, because he knows that Mr Future President™ would tell him off for jeopardizing his own reputation like that. But reader on the other hand is just a horny girl who likes to do a little browsing to help her meet her needs…

nsfw / mdni / no specific dom/sub dynamics

Coryo was away for the weekend just in time for your ovulation and you were so horny that you felt like your brain was gonna explode. Or something else.

You were just scrolling some socials on your laptop, bored out of your mind and decided to check out some adult content to get a bit of stress relief.

None of the guys in the pictures did anything for you until you stumbled upon a fit looking man with a very pretty cock that reminded you of something you had seen before but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Probably that was some well known pornstar. What else could it be?

You clicked on the profile and scrolled through some pictures and videos, but none of them showed the guy's face. Just some footage of him using the fleshlight, some pretty tasteful dick pics, cumming video, more dick pics…

The next one was titled “Morning workout in the park”. Interesting… You clicked on that one and saw the guy sitting in the grass leaning against a tree.

Judging by the lighting it was very early, right after sunrise and the park was still empty. You clicked on description and it read:

“Hey guys! Went out for a morning run once in a blue moon. My jogging pants felt kinda restrictive, therefore I decided to get rid of them and do a little show off wearing only my little running shorts. Looks much better like that, doesn't it?”

It looked good indeed. You bit your lip as his big hand kept palming his hard-on through the thin fabric of the tiny shorts. You could hear some moans and groans and for some reason they sounded very familiar.

You wiggled out of your panties and kicked them away bringing your hand down to your wet cunt right away. You started rubbing your clit and a small moan escaped your lips. He was so fine. You just wished for him to take those shorts off asap.

Then the young man turned the camera to his face and you gasped in shock, almost falling out of your bed.

It was Sejanus. smiling suggestively, small drops of sweat glistening on his forehead from the workout he’d just finished.

“I fucking love it when the sun comes out,” he spoke into the camera. “It always lifts my mood up. You know what else gets really excited about the sun?”

He turned the camera back to his crotch and let the tip of his cock slip out of those loose little shorts. It was thick and hard and it twitched against his strong thigh as he kept speaking, making your pussy impossibly wet.

“It feels so good, fuck! I wish y’all could be here with me.”

God you wished that too. Your fingers moved on your clit rhythmically as you watched Sej letting his whole manhood slip from the leg opening of the shorts and starting to stroke himself. His cock looked so good in the morning sun and the sounds he was making went straight to your pussy.

You felt like those small stifled moans were about to bring you over the edge at any moment now and you threw your head back in pleasure as you suddenly heard his voice right there in your room.

“Like what you see, huh?”

It took a couple of seconds for you to register that he was actually there and after that you slammed your laptop shut and covered your exposed private parts with the oversized t-shirt that you were wearing.

“Sejanus! What are you doing here!?”

“The door was open and I thought I would surprise you,” he gave you a cheeky smirk.

“Well you certainly did. How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to realize that you really enjoy my little hobby.”

You felt your cheeks flooding with red. It felt so embarrassing to be caught like this.

Sejanus just gave you a flirty smile and made a few steps closer.

“I don't mind at all, princess. In fact I hope everyone who enjoys my videos looks as good as you while doing it.”

“How about I put on a little live show for my favorite viewer?”

You just nodded, still not fully recovered from the surprise.

Sejanus stood in front of you and started unbuttoning his shirt while moving his hips like a true professional. Who knew he had it in him.

Soon he revealed his toned torso and pulled down his pants with a cocky grin. He loved the way he made you feel. Still kinda confused, but extremely aroused.

You got in a more comfortable position and let your hand play with your cunt again, looking at the dark haired boy with pure lust in your eyes.

He teased you, brushing his hand over his cock while it was still in his briefs and you could see that he was already hard.

You breath hitched when he finally let his thick member spring free, bouncing against his lower abdomen. He gave it a few lazy strokes and crawled into your bed.

His hand immediately reached for your clit and a soft whimper escaped your lips as soon as you felt his fingers pressing against your most sensitive spot.

“So wet for me already,” he cooed before pressing his plump lips against yours in a steamy kiss. Then he moved down to your neck, sucking at the soft skin in a harsh manner that would probably leave some marks.

“Do you mind if I fuck you now?” He whispered against your skin.

“God, I need you to fuck me!” you sounded embarrassingly desperate as your pussy was literally melting underneath his fingers.

Sejanus pulled your t-shirt over your head and licked his lips marveling at your titties.

“Would you please get on your knees for me?”

You obeyed immediately, desperate to have him inside you already.

“Such a needy girl,” he teased, sliding his leaking tip up and down between your folds.

“Sej, if you don't get to it now, I swear…” you hissed and pushed your ass against his cock.

Sejanus chuckled amused by your despair and slowly pushed his girthy member inside your dripping wet cunt.

You felt immediate relief as he started moving in and out, digging his fingers into your hips.

You moaned softly, feeling his cock stretching you out so nicely.

“You’re so thick, Sej. Fuck!”

“It's just your perfectly tight pussy. Damn, feels so good,” he praised you as his pace grew faster and you kept pushing against him, lewd sounds filling the room as your naked bodies kept slapping together.

You felt your arms growing tired so you lowered yourself against the mattress and pressed your face into the pillow, your muffled moans filling the air.

“It looks so good from up here,” Sejanus spoke in a teasing tone as his thrusts became even harder.

“Maybe you should guest star on my channel. I bet we would go viral.”

The thought alone of being displayed for everyone while Sej fucking you like the horny slut you were made your walls clench around his cock.

Sejanus groaned, feeling his climax nearing from the warm embrace of your tight pussy.

“I’m so damn close,” you whispered before biting into the pillow as you felt his cock hitting against your sweet spot repeatedly.

“Me too baby. Oh god, I think I’m gonna…” the sentence was cut off by a deep grunt and you felt Sejanus's cock twitch before shooting his load deep inside your pussy.

Getting filled by his warmth brought you over the edge and you came simultaneously, drenching his dick in your juices.

You felt the pillow underneath you getting damp from your hot breath as Sejanus continued with a few sloppy thrusts, fucking his cum deeper inside your pussy.

Then you sank down on the sheets panting heavily. Sejanus laid next to you looking like he could easily do a few more rounds right away. His morning workouts certainly did him good.

“Oh god I really needed this,” you said, still catching your breath.

“Me too, I'm really glad I caught you like this,” Sejanus chuckled softly before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“By the way, the offer to make that video still stands.”

#i know this trope is as old as the world itself #but i just needed to get it out there #sejanus plinth #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus x reader #sejanus x you #thg #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #thg tbosas #oneshot #cts post

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apocalypse-shuffle · 2 years ago

Text

SCARECROW | JONATHAN CRANE (general canon)

—

“Freakum Dress” (Scarecrow | Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader)

| Tasked with going to a gala with your miserable boyfriend things are not looking up, then one of the Rogues makes a special appearance. Whether that’s a good thing or not is…yet to be decided.

| SFW, showing off a new outfit, (TW: murder, mild gore), reader has a good for nothing boyfriend -chubby!reader

| Pic source: Batman - The Long Halloween

| 1k+ words

“Are you sure this will fit the theme?” You question through the bathroom door.

Your partner sighs so loud it passes straight through the reinforced wood to reach your ears.

“How many times are you gonna ask me that question? Either come out or don’t, but I’m leaving. You’ve been in there for like an hour.”

He walks off then and in a fit you finish fixing your hair and then throw your spray bottle on the counter. An hour. He was acting a fool over you taking an hour, as opposed to his measly ass twenty minutes, to get ready.

You pull open the door and yell: “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He yells back at you from the living room.

“Hell yeah! You’ve got 10 minutes before I go without you!”

Your nose scrunches and you glare at the closed bedroom door before sucking your teeth.

Fine. This was just going to have to be the outfit you settled on. The man had given you barely a day to get your shit together for his gala, spouting about wanting to show you off, only to throw a fit when you started asking what he deemed to be too many questions.

You brush your hands down the sides of your dress. Personally you didn’t think asking what the theme was once could be classified as ‘too many questions’, but whatever. You already know he’s moody as hell. One of the many things you’ve been putting up with since agreeing to date him almost two years ago now.

You size yourself up in the mirror. At least you looked good. Your boyfriend might have been in a mood but you’d been cooped up in the house for too long. It’d do you some good to go out.

“Yes ma’am!” you spin a little to look at the back of the dress before wiping away a smudge of your lipstick from your chin. You smile then lock off the light and leave the bathroom.

“I think I’m ready,” you tell your boyfriend from where he’s sitting at the dining table. Then it’s your turn to get spontaneously annoyed as he looks you up and down.

He licks his lips. “Oh, you're in theme alright.”

You scoff, giving him a tight lipped smile as you grab your purse.

“Good to know,” you open the front door and toss him his keys as he follows you. “Now let’s go.”

•••

You can tell as soon as you enter the gala, clutching your boyfriend’s arm while he holds you close by the waist, that you weren't quite in theme.

It’s a Halloween party, so you know you’re not completely off, but while you’re dressed in a backless sparkly orange floor length cocktail dress, the other women around you are definitely not so chaste.

While you’d thought you’d go with something more classic that showed off your figure (fupa and all), everyone else, who clearly were allowed time to put their outfits together and told the actual theme, was dressed in giant ball gowns and elegant bouta and colombina masks.

You narrow your eyes and blow off air as you’re dragged around like a prized pony. Your boyfriend mostly takes to showing you off to every manner of his twitchy eyed business associates. You swear you break out in hives just being in their vicinity.

When he’s introducing you to the CFO of his company the man is simularily twitchy, problem is this time his eyes aren’t the only thing with no manners. You have to knock his hand off thrice and endure a chocolate innuendo and some real shitty flirting attempts all while your impotent excuse for a partner just cracks jokes and kisses ass.

It’s when the old man utters: “You got yourself a real good woman, Mr. Daniels, but I’d never let mine go out dressed so inappropriately.” that you really lose it.

There’s a split second where you just have to take in that those words actually just came out of his mouth before you gut react.

You cock your head, “Excuse me-?”

Stefan grabs you by the arm and jerks you back from where you’ve taken a step towards his superior.

“Excuse us! We're just going to get some air, Sir!”

Then you're gone, being dragged off to an empty balcony by your boyfriend and his tacky as hell penny loafers.

“You’re a fucking punk, you know that?”

“Don’t do this shit right now, Y/n.”

“I’ma do whatever the hell I please after you just stood there like a dummy and let your boss harass me.”

He shakes his head with a scoff and deposits you in a low lit corner of the balcony. He stands in front of you, blocking you from the rest of the attendees in the main room as you take a moment to catch yourself.

The long suffering way he rolls his eyes is oddly hurtful.

“And so what?”

“So what?” Your eyes widen and you stare at him in bewilderment.

“Yeah,” he stresses. “You know how hard I’ve been working to get this promotion and he says a few words and you lose your shit! Can’t you just support me for on—!”

“—Ohhh, don’t you just hate it when couples fight?”

The both of you freeze.

Stefan doesn’t even turn but you can’t help the way your eyes track to find the source of the voice. At the corner of the small three person balcony, just out of your line of sight, a figure sits crouched on the stone railing. Glowing red eyes stare back at you where the person’s balancing effortlessly and you fight the urge to let out some unholy mix of a choked back whimper and a noise of pure frustration.

Of course one of Gotham’s Rogues was what your night needed.

You’re still staring at him when Stefan finally unglues himself and turns to stare too, and the longer you look - the longer anyone takes to speak - the more the darkness seems to aid in distorting the image of Scarecrow taking stock like he’s high above the fields.

Honestly, the fear he elicits isn’t unfounded. A far cry from the Dr. Crane you once learned under and TA’d for, this version of the man barely registered as human.

Spindly arms and legs make up his majority, the features of an otherwise completely normal man but the way he wears them makes your skin crawl. As far as you can tell there’s been no sightly gas permeating in the air that wasn’t Gotham’s usual smog, but a steady tremur is settling under your flesh anyway.

“U-um,” Stef clears his throat, taking a shaky step even closer to the man on the other side of the balcony. He holds his hands up and they shake down to their very marrow. You feel him. “Listen,” he’s saying, and that’s his negotiation voice.

“I don’t want any problems, alright? Just- look,” he indicts you over his shoulder and instantly your heart seizes with betrayal.

“Stef-!”

You try to grab him, get him to stop. To think. Two years worth of a relationship down the drain for this? Sefan isn’t having it though and shrugs your hand off before taking yet another step towards the man of nightmares.

Your arms fall to your sides in defeat as he starts trying to make a deal, throwing you under the bus in any way he can possibly think to.

“I’m not worth it, alright, Man? Her though? She’s got enough trauma for the both of us. Just let me go and- and I won’t call the cops or anything. I’ll just leave, yeah?”

At Scarecrow's continued silence you watch detached as Stefan gets even closer, hands clasped together with a big wobbly smile on his face.

“C’mon man, right? You can’t tell me you don’t want a piece of that. She’s so fucked up it’s a miracle she’s not been committed yet…”

Your absolutely gutless waste of an ex keeps going on but you stop listening to him the second Scarecrow starts physically responding to his words.

Still performing his balancing act, like a great perching crow the man leans forward slightly. Though he’s clearly gearing up to address Stefan it seems - to your great horror - that he’s looking at you instead.

The salt from your tears burns your eyes, and similarly your heart turns to cinder in your chest as the villain contemplates you.

You glare at Stefan’s back.

Fucking Stefan.

Scarecrow cuts the man’s treacherous word vomit off not a fiery blink later.

“Alright now,” he says, tone nearly placating. That grand scythe the villain fancies so much makes its first appearance, swinging around to threaten at Stefan’s space without falter, “that’ll do, Pig,” Scarecrow rasps, and Stefan perks up, hopeful.

You have a split second to wonder what the fuck that means before the scythe retreats then comes swinging back around towards an unsuspecting Stefan.

All it takes is one fluid blur of movement and then in a slow slide you watch, breathe lodged uncomfortably in your throat, as his head separates from his body with a slick sound.

His head falls to the ground with a wet thud and you blink wildly down at it. So wildly in fact that when his body follows - knees first as if in prayer and then sprawled unceremoniously to the ground - you barely react.

A shift, boots scratching against stone, and your eyes snap back upwards.

The long pointy tipped hat he’s wearing falls languidly from the left to the right in his exertion before his dark gaze is panning back to meet your own.

A beckoning hand is held out to you, signs of a human hand inviting you closer. For a brief wandering second your eyes slide to the glass doors, to the party beyond, and you imagine.

Would you even make it past the first step? Jumping over your former partner’s fallen body would slow you down, and despite his skinny frame everyone in Gotham’s seen Scarecrow go toe to toe with the Dark Knight. Could you stand up against that?

The crudely stitched together burlap sack seems itself to breathe as the Scarecrow inhales to speak.

“Tick…tock,” he chimes and your fantasies fall to impossible pieces at your feet.

Blearily you blink over at him, eyes thankfully dry again.

“Breath,” he instructs a moment later, and despite your fear - or maybe because of it - you do as you’re told.

That first gasp of chilly air cuts its way down your dry throat so horribly you feel it the whole way down.

It’s enough of a shock to your system that you finally push through the trudge of your own terror to accept his invitation. Like this you only have to step over Stefan’s feet to cross the balcony and lay your hand in his.

Long pointed nails prick, light but incessant, into the skin of your palms as he appears to closely inspect your plump figure.

He’s bringing your hand up so he can spin you when he pauses, head tilting to the side. You swallow nervously and your hand starts shaking even more in his grip as he silently regards you.

“Ms. L/n?”

Shit.

“Who?” Your choked out words snap everything back in motion.

The cloth around the masked figure's mouth seems to stretch taunt, giving the nearest hint of a smile.

“Oh darling,” he croons. “You have just made the night so much more interesting.”

Up close like this he recognizes the face of his most engaging student from back in the day and you … ? Well, your stomach drops as you’re faced with the full attention of a madman.

Unbeknownst to you as your conversation was transpiring, mini squadrons of henchmen had infiltrated and were terrorizing the elites schmoozing on the inside. Clouds of sickly looking gas floating into the air.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

Jonathan: *gives you a rebreather* "I expect a summary of tonight's events and an analysis of at least three different people's reactions by the time we leave.

You: *startled blinking & blindly taking whatever he hands you*

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it! this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

#jonathan crane #scarecrow #black!reader #black y/n #jonathan crane x black!reader #an apocalypse-shuffle halloween special #scarecrow x black!reader #jonathan crane x chubby!reader #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #dc imagine #scarecrow x y/n #scarecrow imagine #jonathan crane imagine #x black!reader #x black!fem!reader #chubby!reader

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xsapphirescrollsx · 2 years ago

Text

Mesquite Grove

Written: Sep 10 2020

Dark!Syverson x Black Reader

Also this is post is pic heavy. I really just mood boarded a lot to keep me going while I wrote. I modeled the cabin in this story of off Sky Notch. I hope it’s not to much lol and that you enjoy it. Thanks for reading and reblogging!

Autumn sits all around you. Monday, seven a.m and the town is quiet except for a few rushing cars on the highway just off from the store you now occupied. The colors of deep red and orange are dull in the morning haze but it signals change nonetheless. It felt good, for you too were experiencing another season in your life. A new town, another chance to start over. It would have been frightening if you didn’t know that without this, your life might have gone another direction.

You stood there in the doorway, hand on the knob as you opened it completely and pushed a big heavy basketball sized stone at the bottom corner. The cold nipped around your neck and you rushed back. And you waited, a lone dot slowly being enveloped in the heavy fog. This dense cloudy layer covers the town, the trees, the homes, your store and the one across the street.

It was beer delivery day at the liquor store and your turn of the month to stand here and take count of intake. With the door open, behind you pale light from within poured around your body as you stood in the frame. You were one leg out, it was too cold to stand completely in the weather so you stayed half in with the warmth. While watching the truck slowly roll in front of the door and then back in, you took stock of this new you. A year ago, a quiet life seemed so far away, there was a time you enjoyed the sounds of a city that never sleeps and the pace the people moved at. But here, standing in the presence of the singular sound of a truck engine it seemed peaceful.

The truck halted a few feet from the door, tail first, its lights ghostly in the fog and exhaust. You shifted to bat away the puffs of white, it doesn’t last long before a gentle frigid wind carries it off for a moment in another direction. And then there was silence once again with the cutting of the truck’s engine.

For a moment raised voices from the head of the truck mumble over the cracking of gravel. Laughter, low and sardonic of sorts was louder as two men exited. Their stomping upon small pebbles broke the eerie morning time quietness. The first man you saw, a regular on this route greeted you with a wave. Dave, shorter than you but stout in his shoulders and frame offered a smile.

“Hey, long time no see!” he said. You smile as best you can muster for this time of day and pull the clipboard from under your arm. “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.” he added.

“The four of us take turns. Today was my day..”you said quietly.

“‘Gotta a new helper today.” said Dave, now standing in front of you. He handed a long slip of paper, a receipt of the day's products to be delivered.

“Well, I’m glad,--” Your words and attention are pulled by the sound of a racket coming from the truck. Loud and cumbersome, it was unusual for normally Dave would have slid it more gently. But your eyes landed on the back of Dave’s helper. He had slammed the platform that was hooked on to the door to the ground. The chains on either side still shook slightly from the action.

“--it’ll go faster this time at least.” you said finally and returned to your list.

The sliding of the truck’s cargo door jarred you again.

“Easy.” instructed Dave. “You break this shit we have to go back to the city for another truck.”

Once again you look up to see the man hop from the bed of the truck down to the platform. You didn’t look long. The man was already staring at you from under the rim of his dingy baseball cap. He was bulky and heavy with his footsteps as he strode the short distance to you. What you did see of him, he was large with broad shoulders and a frame built for hard labor you supposed.

“Nice to meet ya,” he said in a smooth voice. It was surprisingly light, and pleasant despite the rugged thick beard that nearly hid his lips.

A greet worth grin, short and tight unfolded upon your lips as you spoke. “Dave’ll show you were to go.”

“You aren’t even going to ask me my name?” asked the man, his smile when bigger as did the delight in his eyes. He slapped the back of his hand on Dave’s shoulder. “I thought you said the folks at The Corner Store were friendly?”

Your eyes bounced from the man to Dave who looked noticeably uncomfortable, but still managed a grin and a shrug.

The man turned back to you, his white teeth shiny in the light from behind you. “I’m Sy.”

“Okay?”

The sarcasm hung between the rushing sound of a car and the shuffling of Dave’s feet. You rolled your eyes back to Dave. “Anything new on the list?” you asked, ignoring Sy as he walked back to the truck.

An hour in and nearly done, Sy follows you through the first trailer lined with a variety of hot beer, winding to the next right entry way he continued to follow you through the second trailer. Once again, this one too held more warm cases of beer. Down the ramp at the end of the trailer he followed you into the main part of the store, fit for retail and held a large selection of spirits and wines in this section. He followed you still passed the counter toward the large fridge where shoppers could browse the sections of glass doors. But that wasn’t the destination. Instead you walked to the end, opened the door, a muscle reflex really, you held the door open for him as he entered too. Cold, though it felt warmer than outside, and packed and stacked into half rows with more selections of beer he followed behind you at the end. Shelving lined the end of the rectangular space, and underneath that was where he was to stack his cargo.

“You’re new here.”

You didn’t bother to turn around, “What gave it away?” you asked.

Sy lightly half scoffed and laughed. “Well this is my hometown. I know everybody here and you’re definitely not a local.”

Not easily swayed by casual conversation you ignored him. But his presence, the largeness of his body is equal to the energy he silently emits. That can’t be pushed aside. Sy waits while you move to the back row and pick up the last flat case of canned ale and place on the stack behind you. With a finger you gesture to that corner and he squeezes between the metal shelves with beer waiting for customers and the stacks of cases on the dolly. From on top of the beer he pushed in he grabbed for five flats of canned spirits and approached you in the corner. Within this space it was incredibly small to begin with. But with him, his broad shoulders and height you quickly become uncomfortable with not having a way out.

He bent over and slammed the cases into the empty spot. He performed this action twice more until he carried the last of it to this area. And then at last, standing in front of you close enough to smell whatever soap he used that morning he reached for the cold case you placed on top of the other beer. He smiled at you, a grin mostly, one you would see from another who had familiarity with the other person.

When he stood, his chest was inches from you. Parts you thought were atrophied spark to life, it had been years since you were this close to a man. The pieces fired up, your skin first, smooth turned bumpy though you blamed the cold and ignored it mostly because then your heart beat harder. Besides the whoosh of the refrigerator unit suspended behind you it was all you could hear in this moment. Sy titled his head slightly with his eyes gliding down from your chest to waist and perhaps further still you were sure. Immediately put off you turned toward the door, it felt so far away now, relief from this weight of him seemed hours away.

“I have to cut a check,” you mumbled and hoped it sounded plausible, it was the truth after all.

Without turning back a short gasp hissed across the sound of the fan. Sy was doubly close, his chest and stomach bumped into yours. Head still turned a bit and you cut your eyes back at him. He was focused on your neck, he leaned in closer and his beard brushed across the skin of your neck as his fingers dug the high collar coat away. You stepped back, well tried - there was no room to step, instead you teetered back against the wood wall, one hand grasped the cases to your right the other placed on his shoulder.

“What-” you asked but then heard a loud sniffing sound from him.

Instantly the chills upon your arms moved up through your shoulders and fizzled all the way down the sides of your spine. He dragged his nose up through your hairline at the back of your neck. A breathy whimper later, your body felt light, yielding at something you hadn’t had in a very long time - connection. Titling your head up at the feeling of small shudders coursing down your back, the feeling was inescapable, untamed and raw.

And then it ended. Sy stepped back, his light eyes dark now stared back at you with something that you recognized as a man starved. He blinked and took off his cap, ran a hand through wild curls and replaced his cap. You stayed there unable to wholly accept what just happened but also, those pieces of you missed whatever that was.

“Sorry about that - I couldn’t resist any longer.”

You wanted to ask the question; resist what? The impropriety begged for argument, to yell and tell him off about crossing your boundaries as men were often want to do. But then you remembered where he stood, where you were too and how many things between you and the door there were.

Adjusting the neck of your jacket your eyes wandered back to the door. “No worries,” you said.

Sy nodded with a smile emerging from his beard. The parts of you separated again, once again in their scattered places you frown at him. “Are you done? Can you get the fuck out of my way?”

Sy stepped aside with his back against the shelving and the other cases of beer underneath it. Internally you scream at the lack of space he offered you but took it anyway. Quickly you step forward, keep your body pressed against the opposite side column of beer and can only manage to brush your arm across his chest as you pass.

You didn’t bother to look back once around the last stack, you strode down the rows of beer hearing the clanging of the dolly behind. No door holding either as you walk out of the fridge door and to the register counter. It wasn’t until you were back behind there and near a phone did you feel normal again. In this dingy old liquor store, at least here with packs of cigarettes and brown spirits did you feel safe.

Halfway through your work week you awoke to the shrill crowing of a rooster. Scrunched up on the side of your full bed your eyes cracked open to the pale morning light bleeding through your curtains. It crooned again and you blinked, brows pushed together as your eyes shot to the fabric slowly moving with the wind from the ceiling fan.

You grabbed your phone on the end table, checked the time: 6:14 a.m.

Shuffling on the other side of the window and the waggle of chicken noises was followed by another crow, this time the thing had to be directly in front of the window.

“God damnit.”

While you enjoyed this house, this space you created into your own vision of a singular life you felt bothered. In the past this sort of interruption in sleep either by sounds of the city or fighting from an adjoining apartment, or even the people you shared the apartment with would have been met with lukewarm animosity. But here, in this home, as you rose from the bed with little more than a shirt on, this chicken with his cawing and carrying on, you thought he might have made a better sandwich than a living thing.

You jerked open the front door and in a flurry of wings and feathers about a half dozen chicken hysterically flapped and scattered. They ran further when you dashed toward them with raised hands motioning them to flee.

At the end of the porch the last chicken jumped over the railing and out into your yard. Wind from your left, the north gusted around your bare legs and up under your thin shirt. Before you began to turn and go back to the warmth of your bed something caught your eye. From your house within the valley, rising upon a crest of a hill a white tin roof gleamed as the rising sun touched it.

You would admit there was never really any concern to know the neighbors. Other than your house, this home about a mile away on the tall mound was the only house to be seen for miles. You still hadn’t met them officially, if people even did that around here.

But their land stretched for as far as your eye could see. Marked by barbed wire fencing and metal stakes coming as close as maybe ten feet from what would be your land. But unlike your side of the fence, which was mowed before the beginning of fall, their grass grew tall and wild, the cedar and mesquite trees were thick, the cactus patches unattended as well.

Besides this morning chicken fiasco, you hadn’t even seen the neighbors. It made you think, just a jolt really that broke up the fuzziness of groggy thoughts, that perhaps the people who lived there did not want to be seen.

Saturdays were never easy, unlike the rest of the work week this day was met with constant customers as opposed to the lazy walkin’s of a Friday night. The liquor store would be closed on Sunday, so the rush to get the drinks for the weekend shook more people lose to come and get their selections. Also, to the side of the store, the park was filled and in the evening was lit up brightly with lights. This was different. Normally it was dark with zero cars or people. Whatever was happening brought even more people in than usual.

Your co-worker, Hyacinth, short and blond went by Cindy mostly, rushed from behind the counter to open the beer cooler for you. As typical, you were the beer roller tonight. Laden down with a variety of beer you rolled it passed the counter where Adeline still stood helping customers make their final purchases.

“I got it!” called Cindy.

“My back is killing me,” you whispered as you rolled past her.

A constant complainer, and as predicted she issued back her own set of ailments. “Well try standing behind the counter constantly after you stumped your toe this morning.”

She said it frankly, as if you had no idea what pain was or could not possibly understand. You rolled your eyes back in front of you and walked through the open door while Cindy followed in behind you.

“And I got sick this morning,”

“Stop drinking.” your voice rose up a bit louder over the roar of the fans.

“I wasn't! I just woke up crappy is all. Ugh, this thing with Rex. Did you know he still sends me money? After all this time! He makes me so frustrated, plus I hit my toe on the brass leg of my chair. I nearly snapped it off! It’s torture standing back there.”

“Oh, must be really crappy to get money you never asked for once a month.”

You sat the dolly down and grabbed the first case on top. ��Geeze, I would totally hate getting money...just handed to me..” your voice drew out in a sarcastic tone.

Cindy rolled her eyes back at you. “He still wants me to come to Sunday dinners at Olive’s.”

“Well he always did love his mammy,” you couldn’t help but to giggle at her expression.

“She doesn’t love me, she lets me still work here and all that but...fuck she doesn’t make it easy.”

You didn’t have time to respond before Adie appeared with her face stuck in through a crack at the door.

“Twenty guys just walked in -” she said, her voice quiet but begging too.

Cindy waved her off and walked out. Even over the fans you could hear the high spirited laughter and deep voices, the open and shutting of the front cooler doors, the clink of six packs clanking out the windows. And immediately you were happy that there was only thirty minutes left before closing time.

Products got stacked in their predestined places with little thought. Your mind was far away from this place. There was always the tendency to drift into a daydream at the moment the monotony of everyday life became stagnant. Somewhere on the high seas, the hero of your own story where money and time meant little, where you made the rules, and felt satisfied.

You continued to dream as you walked out of the cooler, dolly in hand, eyes straight forward as they moved to places on the shelves that needed a bottle or two replaced. You paid little mind to the men there, who spoke softly with the beat of music across the street humming through the liquor store walls.

Weaving around them with the dolly, you hardly notice their eyes casually glancing at your body as you pass them by. It was like any other Saturday, the men included with their minuscule unprovoked attention. Their movements within the store are meaningless, your mind was set on the last fifteen minutes until closing. That bottle of clear rum called to you like the couch, like the bag of chips in your pantry and the show you had been putting off to catch up on all week. You were ready to just be off.

The dolly and you pause near the front door where the bags of ice laid within the stand up freezer. You opened the door, palmed the frozen cubes through the plastic and decided with the cooler weather you wouldn’t have to bag anymore tonight.

Cindy said your name over the top of the men passing comments back and forth to each other.

“I’m nearly done. I’m locking the back door.” you shouted over your shoulder and began to take off again, dolly in tow toward the second part of the store. Wine bottles stuffed together on rickety shelves clinked with the vibration of the music.

“Okay but that’s not what I was talking about- Come here.”

You kept going with the dolly. “I’ll be right back!”

So you rolled it back there, just inside the first trailer and walked back. Finally you take the time to look at the faces of the four or five men on the other side of the counter. One of them was Sy. And you stopped short of coming into the main part of the store.

“Hey! They are having a party up on the hill!” said Cindy excitedly.

Her giddiness elicits a smile from you. But it was short lived as Sy turned from the counter as you took a few steps near. His large body leaned on his right arm on top of the counter, he stretched out a leg and his other hand held his wrist. A lazy stance but one with purpose that said he was open to friendly banter.

“A gathering of sorts. The boys have returned.” Sy added.

“Boys? From college?” you assumed, it was fall after all, maybe the semester was over and these boys were younger cousins.

Adie at the other register next to Cindy laughed. Another one of the men was leaned completely over on his crossed arms looking at Adie. But she was looking at you. “No it’s the -”

“It’sa time for family to return home.” said Sy. “Usually the men take off ‘til they’re late thirties, they come back, help out with the land, home life and settle down.”

“Are ya’ll..is this a religious thing?” you asked.

Most of them laughed, even the men down by the beer, but not you or Cindy. Sy only smiled.

“Nah, it’s more like a reunion.”

Cindy crossed her arms over her chest, a few fingers played with the ends of her hair. “Hey you still got that bottle at home? Maybe you and I can catch up on that show and drink at your place!” asked Cindy.

Still thinking about their laughter, maybe it was an inside joke you weren’t privy too. But Cindy’s sudden shift from barely contained excitement to attempting to trash the idea all together grated your nerves. “I thought you were trying to go to this?”

“We can do something else. I got my toe to think about.”

At the mention of Cindy’s stupid toe your eyes went back to Sy.

“After we shut down, we’ll start over there...where is it?”

The car radio mumbled a tune under Cindy’s constant talking.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know Sy was your neighbor.”

“I’m not nosey.” you threw in, keeping your eyes on the gravel road only illuminated by the headlights of your car.

You do your best to concentrate on the road. But in the pitch black your mind makes shadows in the spaces between bare mesquite trees, vines creeping over the fences that line either side of the gravel back road. Your eyes sweep back and forth for sleek bodies of deer that would dare dart out. It doesn’t matter that you are driving the forty mile an hour speed, you were careful every time you drove this way to go home.

And as you passed the dirt driveway to your home an ache sets in. The kind that wants to be in your own environment with your own things. You even glance back through the driver side window, checking for the front porch light and wondering if the house missed you too.

“I don’t want to see Rex. But I know he’ll be there.” Cindy’s whining cut into your thoughts.

“Then stay away from him.”

“I can try but he won’t listen.” she added, once again usurping another opinion.

Before you know it Cindy was waving her hand to the left. “It’s right there, the turn in - with those big wooden gates.”

It was open as you turned on to the driveway, though not much better than the actual road. Passing through them, they curved over the wide path, carved into them looked like animals, dogs maybe you weren’t sure.

“Are they rich?”

Cindy unbuckled her seat belt and popped down the viser, flipped open the mirror and squinted when the light hit her eyes. “Ya.” she said, running a finger underneath her eyelid. “They all are.”

You drove further, even here the sides of the driveway were just as wild as the road you had turned off of. Though the gravel seemed sparse and gave way to the reddish orange dirt known for this area. Soon you were much closer in a short amount of time, you could see the house - if one could call it that. What you could see from your house was deceiving. That white house, looking now, was merely a metal garage. The mansion was large, spacious, across the land with timber embedded length wise to wooden planks running long. A cabin? A huge cabin fit for at least twenty or more people. And the cars that lined in front and down the driveway could certainly accommodate just that.

“Oh ya they are rich, god damn.” you whispered and pulled off near the garage.

You drove to the nearest light, half way between the garage and this big house. But as you came closer it wasn’t electrical, it was a torch made of a stack of stones topped with flames. Your eyes moved past Cindy who was still adjusting her hair and makeup to the house, all the lights outside were made of fire.

“An upclass kegger?” you laughed and put the car in park.

“No they aren’t stuck up like that. Really, they seemed to be good people.” Cindy started to say something else but shrugged.

She looked at you, “Ready?”

You sighed and resided yourself to just get it over with. Walking toward the house, you did feel a bit better, now that the drive was over you could look forward to an exit.

Cindy walked ahead of you, grateful to let her take the lead you let her. And she walked straight for the large front doors with more dogs carved into the dark wood. Suddenly you were aware of the air around you, it was different from the natural smell down by your house. It smelled of the flora you walked through, even the timber that made up the house. Which only seemed to blend into the trees around it, even the front door was flanked by two small trees, stripped down to bare wood and made to be part of the architecture.

She didn’t even have to open it, before you realized what was happening a woman popped out. Tall, with long brown hair was throwing her arms around Cindy’s neck. She pulled her into the house with you trailing behind.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” shouted the woman. “Rex!!” she yelled again as you shut the door behind you.

The woman turned back over her shoulder toward you, “You brought a friend! Please make yourself at home!” The woman let go of Cindy and opened another set of doors set into thick wood. Past the glass on either side of them movement could be seen. She pushed them in and stepped into a stone and wood foyer. You continued to follow but quickly your eyes were pulled into this grand living room the likes you had never seen. It stopped you.

Your eyes were drawn to the large wooden columns of logs that gave way to an open layout that seemed to stretch to the sky peaking through a large window on the ceiling. Further in, the second story could be seen resting on more logs but that wasn't the focal point. Among the wood, and branches stood a rock at least twelve feet tall, carved in such a way it almost looked like the outside of a den or cave. Men sat around it upon cushions of leather or fur in deep conversation and acted like they didn’t even see you. So your eyes moved from then to the lip of this rocky monument where sat a clay bowl, burning with a fire within it.

“What the fuck is this place…” you whispered.

“The drinks are over there,” called the woman. She was far away, at the entryway of another room just off from this rock. She gestured into the room she and Cindy walked into. But you were still gazing, amazed even because beyond this rock were a row of double glass doors, swung open with soft music being played outside.

Cindy called your name, finally you walked over to join her in what looked to be another sitting room but it was so much more than that, you just couldn’t name it. Wood followed into this room too, and stone. There were people in here as well, some crowded around a large bowl full of something blue.

Cindy dipped a glass ladle into, poured it into a glass and then handed it to you. She did the same for herself, but before you could really ask her anything a bellowing hoot came from behind you.

A man with dark hair came walking fast toward you, but glancing at Cindy, her face pale mouth open in a gasp took a step back. The man she did not want to see, Rex.

More people turned, some laughed and others nodded in his direction as he closed in on Cindy.

“Hey I’m going out there, if you need me. That’s where I’ll be okay.” you said softly.

Cindy only nodded and then at once Rex grabbed her in a hug. That was your mark to leave, and you did so happily.

You followed the sound of deep crooning vocals from beyond the row of doors. More people, perhaps the last addition to the silent count in your head made for thirty people in total you had seen were sat around. Again, square cushions lined the rails of the balcony, dotted out from there encircled a man with the black satin sky as a backdrop behind him.

It felt communal in nature, some shit you might have seen on television about cults and how they huddle together, think the same, do the same. But as you observed their faces, they listened to the music, though spoke to whoever was near them. It seemed benign. Though this was the middle of nowhere, Texas, what use would have a home like this? Who lived here?

You gazed at the man for a moment as you moved to the other end of the balcony. It seemed bigger than your own home with its little two bedrooms, and small living room. And it certainly did not have a view like this. In the dark, it wasn’t truly vast blackness, stars peppered the sky like fireflies, the nearly full moon cast a pale pearly light upon the land.

“See anything you like?” said a voice from behind you.

Sy was there, drink in hand and a friendly toothless smile. He cleaned up, he didn’t smell like the smoke from the pits at the park any longer, the cap he had on was gone and dark hair bundled in loose curls around his ears and neck.

“It’s beautiful here.”

Sy’s eyes moved from you to the scene over your shoulder. He nodded knowingly, his jaw tightened and sagged, like he was biting down on a thought and then blinked back at you.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

You were unamused and it showed across your face. Sy’s expression grew serious, simply staring at you before taking a drink.

Sy stepped closer to your left and stood near, he smacked his lips. “You’ll get used to it.” he said and turned his head toward you.

“Used to what? Was that a flirt?” you asked, finally beating back embarrassment you turned your body and leaned against the balcony.

“I’m not great at flirting.” Sy dipped in close, looking into your eyes, and spoke softly, “I call them like I see them.”

He stood straight again, “So how long have you been in our small town?”

The song changed, a few people called out requests before the man started singing again. You watched the people, buying time before you decided upon an answer.

“I’ve been here for about 5 months now.”

“Did it take you long to find a place?” he quickly asked back. “Not like there’s a lot to pick from.”

“Actually, I’m buying the land right down the road from here. The price was right.”

“The Grove house. I know it.”

“Yeah?”

“It used to be a part of this land, the caretaker’s house, but a few generations back we let them buy it from the family. Everything okay with the house?”

“It’s a great home. I didn’t have to do much to it. But there’s a dead tree stump at the far corner of the house.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow.”

You shook your head like you were trying to throw off his good offer. This was all so strange, the house, this land, the feeling in your gut and now this.

You finished the drink off, spilled some of it down your chin as you quickly tried to deflate his offer.

“No, no--that’s not necessary.”

“Hey we’re neighbors now. I’m home, I want to help you.”

You wanted to say no one more time but your voice loses its intensity with the sound of a woman yelling. Cursing, Cindy strode past the doors, her eyes roaming the dark and then stopping on people and looking some more before she finally landed on you.

Quickly she walked over to you, held your arms and ignored Sy complete. “Please, can you take me home.” her voice cracked.

“What’s going on?”

“Can you?”

You looked over to Sy, he was eyeing Cindy before he turned his eyes back toward the house. Shouting, low and growing louder you shifted back to Cindy. She was still looking at you, concern settled into her stance as she grew rigid, and stared right into your eyes.

You sighed, “Okay. Fine, let's go home. I’ll take you first.”

Sunday was bright, warmer than usual, but then again it was Texas, the weather seemed to have its own mind. And today it was sunny, with the heat from the sun beating out the cool wind. It made for a pleasant late morning, you weren’t even hung over. The ride back to Cindy’s was quiet, she hardly spoke - not like her. While her silence was worrisome you assumed it was some sort of lovers concern.

The tree in the back had to be dealt with. You figured a few hours of digging around it would yield results. And while it did you were nowhere near getting the four foot wide trunk out of the ground. Squatting down near a deep exposed root, you swung your hatchet, splitting the wood and chipping away at the foundation.

You were sweaty, and tired of using energy best spent making food and sitting in front of the television. Laying the hatchet down you grab a rope and knot it on the end of the cut root. You tugged hard, nothing.

A rumble of a truck pulling up into your driveway didn’t sway your efforts. Planting your feet you hunched over and pulled back harder. It gave a little that time. When you tried to pull again, a pair of gloved hands wrapped around the rope in front of your grip.

It was Sy.

He smiled while plucking at the rope, “Let’s give it a tug.”

His thick arms rubbed against yours, he fixed his stance closer but wider and his thighs brushed against your as the rope wrenched back. He grunts hard, “One more time,”and with another jerk the root comes completely loose from the trunk.

Sy released it and you turned toward him. He was grinning down at the stump, white cotton shirt straining around his large arms with his fingers in the jean loops. “Looks like you’ve done a good job of getting it to surface. I bet I can pop it out for good.”

He backed up his black trunk and made easy work of wrapping a chain around what was sticking out of the ground. You stood near the front of the house and observed him gassing the engine. Within a few minutes the stump cracked as it fell forward in the direction he pulled broken roots and all.

“Thank you!” you said cheerfully. Jumping from the porch you saw Sy lean over into the bed of his truck and retrieve a gas saw. You watched him cut the stump down into slices. You wanted to help afterwards, you even tried to lift one but they had to be at least a hundred pound each.

“I got it.” and without another word, and to your amazement, Sy squatted down and grabbed a piece. He walked a few feet with it, his arms wrapped around the part of the circumference and placed it in the bed.

“If you’re up for a cookless night we are having a family dinner up at the house. Do you want to go get ready?” Sy walked back to you near the wood and grabbed for another piece.

“Right now?”

He lifted it, “Ya. Go wash off or whatever it is beautiful women do. I’ll wait.”

It was evening, the sun was setting when you stepped out of Sy’s truck. Gone was the warm weather in its place mist or fog seemed to grow from the spaces between the trees trunks and branches. Somehow the natural world mimics how you feel inside. There are shadows within you too, hidden by the mists of memories, light displaced by ghostly uncaring hands from the past. You look over to Sy, back straight, head lifted he walks like a leader. And when he turns to you, his eyes blazing some of the haze within you disperses.

Even with his silent acknowledgment that this was the beginning of something new. The lines of cars aren’t ignored.

“Family dinner,huh?” you asked in jest, though left it open for him to explain further.

Sy nodded, a whisper of a smile tugged at the end of his mouth and you suspected the expression was mischievous but you don’t know why he needed to be.

Up the stone steps again, the outside ornate door was wide open though the one behind it was not. He walked forward, pushed it and let you walk in first. It smelled wonderful, food of some sort, meat and the fragrance of leather and wood met you.

The grandness of the living room was even more so in the evening light. The feeling of being within a tree, or a cave did not go unnoticed. Sy grabbed your hand, surprised by this subtle gesture you allowed him to hold you, guide you toward a room that was closed the night before. The distant hum of voices grew louder once he opened the door. You wanted to stop and take in the space, the living room was but a glimpse-- this room was for kings.

The entire space was timber walls, stone flooring with three low-height long tables running horizontal in this great rectangle of carpentry. The furthest wall was lined with large windows which offered the view of the tree country valley and everything of god’s creation. Bowls of food, trays of hot delights steamed up into the air looking like smoke in the dying light. The people surrounding the tables, had to be at least a dozen each. And Sy continued to walk along the side he came to the head of the first table, and nodded to those who waved at him. Their voices hushed with his approach to the middle table, he brought you to the second empty seat where you sat on the leather cushion. He took his place at the head, eyes wide at the selection, the prestige of this room you looked to him confused.

“The pack is back together!” called Sy. And at once the room bellowed with hoots and howls.

“In a few short hours we will celebrate the beginnings of a new generation!”

Another round of hollering and calling waved across the crowd. “Eat!” announced Sy. And with that the yelling died down and the clutter of silverware filled the hall.

You stared at the fried chicken mounded up in a tray, and then to the more than rare steak to the left. A heap of corn on the cob with a tiny bowl of butter was quickly taken and passed across the table.

You turned to Sy, he had already filled his plate with what looked like brisket, a few ribs and yellow potato salad.

“What are you celebrating?” you asked, and without looking up he spoke while chewing.

“The return,” he shrugged and grabbed a rib and began to eat again.

Not wanting to stick out, quickly you filled your plate with whatever was close and took small bites while glancing down the table and around the room.

Cindy wasn’t too far away. Surprised because of yesterday's turn of events, you waved, and she returned it with an ecstatic smile. She leaned in next to Rex who gnawed on a chicken leg. Your eyes moved from her with a bite of a roll, to the carving on the wall behind Sy.

The scene depicted there seemed to flow from one transition to the other. First a man, walking through trees, and then he knelt before a great dog. “Who made that?” you asked and took a sip of ice cold sweet iced tea.

Sy looked over his shoulder, he grabbed a rag and whipped his mouth and beard. “It’s a family heirloom.” said Olive who sat across the table next to Rex.

“It’s over two hundred years old. It was one of the first things created here.” added Sy.

Your eyes turned back to the raised carving. “This house is that old?”

“Older really.” chimed in Olive.

“This homestead is a testament to family, loyalty, and resilience.”said another, a woman. The same tall brunette from the previous night.

“So..this is a reunion hall or something?”

Sy shook his head. “This is my home. And also the place our pa-family meets. It sits on three hundred acres of protected land. Throughout there are other homes, not as big --for families who return. Generational homes..passed down.”

“Like my house?” you asked.

“No, that was a gift to the caretaker. His loyalty was never seen of his kind before. It’s a shame he passed away and his family let that land go.” said Olive.

“It’s in good hands now.” added Sy, who picked up the pitcher of tea and refilled your glass.

Your attention laid upon the faces of strangers eating. “These people are your family?”

Sy sat the pitcher down, “Might as well be.”

Confusion spread across your face, “I’m sorry but,” you put your fork down and looked at Sy. “Okay, these people aren’t your family? But this is a family home?” You looked behind you searching for older faces besides Olive and found none. “What about your parents? Do you have siblings?”

Some of the noise lowered with your secession of questions. Maybe you hit a nerve, but there were other women who looked to you as well. “Ya, I came with Jack,” the tiny young woman nudged the man’s ribs to her left. “So many secrets,” she giggled.

Sy cleared his throat before he spoke. “My parents were killed when I was about twelve. I was raised by Olive. This home belonged to my mother and the land to those who resided here.”

“But why?”

“It was originally a colony.”

“Oh,” you supposed that made sense for the times. But in today’s world...you weren’t sure, strange.

Dinner ended with the men and their dates leaving the hall. Though you did see a few women and men stay behind to clean. You walked next to Sy, out of the rows of double doors to the balcony. At the right stairs looking like they were unfinished from a whole piece of a tree. You followed him down them, winding along the edge of the balcony the stone column holding it up to the bottom.

The only patch of treeless land was not far from the home. Out there night had descended into the orange moon slowly rising into the sky. Your eye was drawn to an equally fiery color of flames licking the cool night air.

“What a pretty full moon!” a woman’s voice said softly from the crowd.

“Not quite,” said Sy.

You were standing next to him, watching him gaze at the fire. It cracked and spit sparks near you before he began to speak once again.

“This is a special night.” he lifted his head and spoke loudly toward the people and you. “A homecoming.”

Sy’s fingers pulled at the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head and then junked it into the fire. You stepped back and looked at the faces of the men. They did the same, each one, to the shock of the partner standing next to them.

From the dark a woman approached, gray hair, wrinkled heavily around her eyes and mouth. She carried a stone bowl the same color as the long thick dress she wore.

Oh shit.

“This is a cult.” you whispered and took another step back. Sy pulled you back by your wrist.

He mumbled at first, you thought he was speaking again but you didn’t understand the words. They seemed to rhyme and flow in the same pattern, like a chant.

Your attention was back on the woman, she drank long from the bowl, she stepped to the edge of the fire, something within you felt danger that if she stood any closer her dress would catch fire.

Her saggy cheeks were full, she leaned back and spit the liquid into the fire. The burst hit the flames, a scream from within the crowd crawled up from the howls from the men. The area was blanketed in smoke and sparks. The thick charred hot mist forced its way into your nose and down your throat. You tried to run but Sy now held you from the back. Craving fresh air you sucked in and gulped down any that was available.

“What is this!” You yelled through a scream that tasted of blood.

“The beginning.” he whispered into your ear.

Your legs buckled and Sy allowed you to hit the hard dead grass.

The smoke parted, maybe your eyes deceived you but the woman there, the smoke trailed into their mouths and nose.

“You lovely ladies might be wondering what all this means.” his voice was low, thick with a delightful litany. His eyes were wide as he stared at each one. “Well, for us it’s about family, always has been. And for you, tonight, it’s the start of the rest of your life.”

Sy began to pace half way around the fire and then back to you. He shoved a thumb into his chest, “I’m the Alpha prime in these parts, and this here is my pack. They’ve brought you here tonight, they have chosen you.”

From your place on the ground, through the yellow tops of flames, Sy turned his eyes to you. “I have chosen you.”

At the sting of his words you fell back and twisted with pain. Something hard and beating thumped through your chest and traveled down your muscles to your belly. As soon as the wave crested you scrambled away from the deafening screams of women behind you. Trampling through the grass it hit you again. You stood against it, huddled and hunched over your own scream called out into the night.

Sy was there, you smelled him before he even touched you. The pain rescinded with his touch but you resisted him pulling you toward him, you kicked at his legs even though in his hands made you felt whole somehow.

“Stop!” you screamed but he held tighter, his hands traveled up your arms and held your face. He forced you to tilt your head and met his eyes. A honey colored ripple flashed over the dark blown out pupil invisible waves of spread out from your eyes down your body. It was inexplicable, with his gaze you calmed to his touch, you gave in.

Sy pulled you back to him, even though the sweater you wore the heat from his skin penetrated the fabric and so to your senses as well. He was in front of you but within you too, somehow you could feel him in your blood.

“First rut!” shouted Sy up to the sky. Howls issued back, the sound whirling and ringing in your ears.

“Alphas!” Sy dragged you by the wrist for you to follow, blurry eyes stared up at the house.

“Claim your mate!”

You entered the house in a flurry of groggy blinks and disconnected images. Flashes of wolves carved deep in stone, the sweat of dripping down Sy’s neck, his arms around you ushering you here and there. The smell of him got stronger down a dark hall, you tried to faint then, so overcome with the tearing in your groin you wanted to die. You wanted to give up and surrender to what could only be a slow death. But Sy, ever ready, pushed you, his presences gave you strength to continue over the threshold of a room.

If not for your own breathing the cries throughout the house might have scared you. Death seemed plausible though; how hard could a heart beat this way without dying? Never mind the terrible screams, the violent fits of rage that seemed to float through the wood and enter your mind. You were dying, right?

You clutched the wooden end-board as Sy stripped you naked. He maintains the closeness during, holding his chest near your back, a hand over your belly as he pulls the shirt over your head. He pressed his lips to your neck the sensation wracked your spine seizing it in an arch to meet his naked length.

“I smell you…” he whispered and jerked you around. “I want to rip you a part.” he growled then quickly kissed you.

You let him take. You let him feel and run his hands all the way down your back. Whatever this was, it reacted to his touch, left you breathless and sucking in air too.

“But I won’t,” his hands were back at your face, his teeth nipped your lips as he spoke between bites. “I promise, I’ll control myself baby.”

He turned you back around, with a hand forced you to bend over and without another word he pushed into you. Wet wasn’t the word for it, the moment he hit bottom you felt the warmth roll down your thigh. Sy gripped your hips, pulled out and then snapped your ass back to him.

The invasion bruises you, it forces you to stretch around him. When you start to cry Sy stalls. He slipped from you, held you close from behind and directed you to the side of the bed. “Shush, hush, baby..” he whispered.

He fell to the bed with you, on top of you already positioned between your legs before the tears could start up again. “Put your arms around my neck okay,”

You felt heavy all over but you did as he said. Sy smiled and kissed you as he pulled your hands up over his arms and sank back into you. “There’s my girl..” he said on a pant. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, licking, tasting you his tongue swirled over the bit of skin just below your ear.

“We felt just right,” he groaned.

It felt like hours, the constant prodding, the grinding into you, his skin slapped against yours undoing you from within. You had never come down so hard on the sensation in your life. Holding on to him tight he pounded into you, his teeth scraped your skin until he bit down. Something more, larger entered into you at the base of his cock, you shouted out as he tightened his jaws. His legs and hips pushed you further up the bed with the shaking of his body. Sy lifted up his head, finally you could see his face, the ripple of yellow rolled over his eyes, his face contorted into some ungodly beast.

Horror filled you, with the roar he let loose. You were fading though, the fear became thin with the steady beating of your heart. Your arms fell from him, his face returned to what you remembered. You laid there with him still inside. Sy’s face turned down to you, lovingly he kissed your lips, your chin, your cheek. A satisfied growl carried from his chest, long and vibrating it soothed you to shut your eyes. It sounded like a dog...

No, a wolf.

The men in your life before were easy to pin down who they were. Too loud, and their words gave them away. Too greedy, and their needs, their time was above your own. They took too much and gave very little. Their faces and their warmth are nothing to compare to the man now laying at your side.

You were a single child of single children. No extended family, passed friendly close acquaintances. Which many were brought into the fold because of childhood parties, work friends, but none could offer the connection of family. Sy offered this. A wild beginning for certain. But lying in a bed softer than clouds, his scent covering your body like the finest of tissue paper brushing across your skin but never truly feeling its weight.

Naked as the day you were born, your lids crack open, the light coming in was muddled with mist diffusing into the room as a constant drizzly morning. Sy’s arm was around your waist and when you turned your head his eyes were already open too, watching you, studying the sleepiness across your face.

“I'm so tired...what did you do to me?”

His arms squeezed around you, holding you securely but you didn’t think of it as a vice, “Our kind is meant to be sleeping now. It’s our first rut...it can be exhausting.”

Your mind searched for the meaning. Rut, it was something you had heard from hunters. When creatures mated..it was a time for animal reproduction. “Rut?”

Sy folded his other arm under his head, his blue eyes with one freckled stare at you steady.

“Babe, you were changed for the better. The boys, a few females are wolves around here.”

You sat up fast, that was a mistake for your body felt heavy. “Wolves?”

“Our people have been around for as long as there have been men.” said Sy staring up at you. “It’s a gift most would say, a curse for others.” And he rolled over on his back and threaded his fingers over his stomach.

“Which is it?”

“It’s an honor.”

“How is this even real? I don’t understand…”

“The world isn’t black and white, this isn’t the movies.”

“So..I’m changing..into what?”

“You are the Omega prime here, I don’t recon you’ll change like me but you are this. Once you see and allow your nature to come through you will understand my love.”

You pull the covers up closer hoping that somehow it would protect you from the truth. “I’m changing into a wolf??”

Sy chuckled lightly and pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke. “No, you’re a vessel.”

“I don’t want that.”

Suddenly Sy sat up and moved his large bulky body toward you while pulling the sheet from you and sitting directly across you.

He looked you into the eyes, “It’s too late for that.”

The aches in your body, the creaking in your joints were reactivated under his gazing. Without thinking you stretched out a hand and grazed it over his shoulder and down his arm. There was no use fighting it, that feeling was beginning to churn and flex under your skin again.

You fell back to the pillow, you can’t stand even your own skin. It itched, it pulled around your muscles in a way you had never felt before. His scent enveloped you, permeating, it sinks into your pores. You could smell him more now, as if the volume of this sense turned up to zero you could even scent his cock and craved what was within it. You wanted to hunt, you wanted to run, to provide...what the fuck?

Sy unfolded your legs and laid his hips between them. “Baby, you’re sweating again. You need me. If you go for too long..you need it.”

Shaking your head while wrapping your hands around his neck your voice trembled out, “I don’t.”

His big hands buried between your body and the bed and gripped your ass. “You do...” And pushed inside of you. Every inch that sank your mouth stretched open.

“My little omega is wet for me,”

The words didn’t make sense but they rang true for your body. It was dirty and confusing but it made you want to be good for him. You shut your mouth, moaned as you did so and nodded.

Sy began to thump, a smile maybe pulled at the corner of his mouth but his eyes remained serious. “That’s it…”

“I knew you would be a perfect fit..” he groaned too, hitting bottom. “Take my knot so well, love.”

“It--it hurt.” you mumbled.

Sy kissed you lightly, his expression turned to concern, “I know love, it’s supposed to at first.” he grunted and began to slap against you harder. “Just a tight omega..”

The longer he thrusted the more the base of his cock began to thicken. He bounced against you testing the width with each jab until he was forcing it in and out of you. “See..” he hissed and laid his head against your shoulder. Sy’s tongue licked around the marks on your next sending shudders to your core. Gasping, heart thumping his rubbing from within on your clit burst the sweet ache from within.

“That’s my girl..” he whispered. Sy rose up, grabbed your wrists, pinned you down and fucked you harder.

His knot entered you completely as he stilled on top of you. In the light of a dreary day his face flashed once again of the hound he hides within. His grip tightened and this time you did not give in to the sleepiness. Sy collapsed, still holding your wrists but dragged them higher as to settle in. His hips continued with small well intended prods.

He lifted his head and stared down at you. “Do you feel it?”

His cock laid within you thick and heavy. He moved a bit and couldn't pull out. “That’s me inside of you. I did this last night, but you passed out. I fucked you all night. Do you remember it?”

Now it made sense, the aches and pains. “I had you about six times.” he said while still slowly moving his hips. He rolled his eyes back barely containing the ecstasy in his voice. “I’m filling you.”

Your purpose unfolded within your bones, spread to your muscles as warmth from the sun would. A sweet burn, one that felt ancient and destined. The life you had before shed from you as you nodded toward him. You are his, it felt right and true.

When his hands left your wrist you understood that he had brought you into his life. As he held your face and poured into you, there was no other person he loved more.

“Just a little more,” he said and began to peck your cheeks again. He appeared relaxed and with it so did you. He rubbed your hair, cuddled into you no longer moving his hips. “We’re going to make so many beautiful children together.”

Maybe with him and this strange new way, that your life before could mean more now because it brought you to this moment. Gently you caressed his face down to his beard and carefully kissed him back. Sy grinned as he pushed back on your lips.

“I’m going to take care of you,” said Sy.

Out of the shower you walk out with Sy naked once again. Water dripped down your breasts and to the floor you couldn’t shake the fact that this house felt like outside. Or maybe it was nature itself that had been invited in. You felt it here more than in any other place. The sense of being at peace, at being at home. Sy’s footfalls are never far from you. Like air, like sunlight too.

“This is --” you said sitting on the bed. “I feel odd. Like I feel you or this house..I’m not sure how to explain it.”

Sy handed you a towel and began to dry his body off. “Bonding.” he said while rubbing his dick and then his thighs.

You stood up once again, and started to dry off. “You’re my mate. This home was built by my family, it means something.”

His words swallowed your thoughts as you stared at him for a moment. Sy walked to the closet in the far corner, he pulled out a few pieces of clothing and started to dress. “I’ve got stuff in here for you too babe.” and motioned for you to follow.

“How?”

“We still have the keys to that little house you’re buying. I had them move some of your clothes here while we were eating dinner last night.”

He leaned over and pecked your head. You walked to the closet and pulled on the long sleeve shirt, and held the sweat in your hands. You grabbed some faux sheepskin fleece boots too.

“Over there,” he pointed near the bed to a large ornate dresser. “Your socks and things.”

You finished dressing as Sy walked from the bathroom, his curls were tamed for the time as he fanned his fingers through them. “Just try and let it happen, okay? The more you fight it, the longer it takes.”

“You brought me here! You drugged me and now you just want me to accept this?”

Sy shrugged, “It’s always been this way.” He stepped up to you and the connection hummed at his fingertips that lightly grazed the skin around your mark. “I know you feel wronged. I’m sorry I took you. But this is your home now, it would only upset the baby if you kept fighting against this.”

Your head snapped back, “Baby?” You touched your stomach, a reflex really.

“There will be soon.” he smiled and brought you back to his face, “We need to--” but he stopped suddenly and sniffed the air. “Wait here.”

Purely out of the concern in his voice you did as he said. But there was more, it was in your bones and you followed out the door anyway. Loud voices carried across the space. At once within the hallway the smell of rot hit your nose. Maggoty things sprang to mind, decay and plunder of flesh flashed across your mind. Sy continued around the second story, and you followed passed busts of brass faces and more pelts lining the inside wall. Despite the sunny rays pouring over dark wood from above and falling down onto the stone monument below, the air felt rancid.

Passed an adjacent hallway, and another few closed doors you saw the source of the fretful talking. Rex turned his head from the railway overlooking the first floor up to Sy. He paced away from it back to the door behind him, he looked in, his eyes wide he did not stop staring within. Sy stopped next to him, you saw him turn his head and peer in too. You followed suit, with your eyes adjusting to the light blazing in from three giant windows. Within the bed laid a woman upon her back, arms half moved like a crooked doll her eyes were open staring blankly up at the ceiling.

She was the source, your stomach turned and you stepped forward. Sy held you by the arm. But she did not look decomposed, but the smell wafted up to you anyways. “Cindy!”

You moved again but was still held back, “Wait love.” asked Sy quietly.

“She didn't--” Rex was crying as he spoke. “..the transformation..she.”

There was an end, clearly somewhere within this concoction of mystical smoke people could die. Women met their end.

Olive approached from the other side of Rex, she crossed her arms and stared within the room disappointed. “You know what needs to be done Rex.” her aged voice cracked in the middle, executing the order while dealing compassion was never her strongest trait.

“She just died!” you yelled.

Olive stayed level as she spoke to Sy. “You don’t want the old God after us, Alpha Prime. You are that now, tonight will make it official. You must do it.”

“She has a family! They will look for her!” you turned around and shouted at Olive.

Olive seemed to cave into your voice as she turned her head shakily toward you. “I know her mother, sisters. If they come asking questions I’ll handle it.” She released a breath, steadied herself against Rex and looked back to Sy.

“When’s the last time you knelt to an Omega Prime?” he asked Olive. She frowned, and it looked like she was biting the inside of her lip and averted her eyes back to the room. “Half the day is gone.” said Sy. “Tonight is the run..we need to do this just after dark.”

“So that’s it!” your voice came out as little more than a whisper. “You kill her? Now you’re going to hid-”

Sy whipped you around stared right into your eyes, the color in them shifted. They emitted authority down upon you to the point you were left speechless. His jaw relaxed and with it an almost soothing growl followed, but you broke through you attempted to turn your eyes. But he grabbed you by the arms, made you gaze back at him. He began to growl low, not threatening, you felt the anger within you plummet.

“Now that you’re calm, listen. She has received the gift but her soul did not take to it. If we do not dispose of the body properly...”

Sy let you go and turned his eyes back to the room. “Let’s just say they haven’t had a dark soul in this area in a generation.”

Already the house smelled better, though cold with every window now wide open, the older women went about shutting them again. A small thin woman with silver hair eyed you as she walked passed you toward the kitchen.

“There’s still breakfast left.” she said softly. “Just for you, miss.”

You muddled over her comment for a minute. You were starving but the idea of eating after finding Cindy dead was pulling at your ethics. She turned at the door to the kitchen and waved you in. You relented to the hunger.

Within the kitchen it was busy, with women and men going about preparing food. A giant stone island had six people surrounding it chopping up onions, tomatoes and other things you didn’t get a good look at. The woman returned to you with a plate of toast, a giant pile of scrambled eggs, bacon and glass of orange juice and motioned for you to sit at the last seat near a young girl who was crushing saltine crackers into a giant bowl.

You ate quickly, said nothing as their conversation picked back up with the arrival of this woman. She had to be about ninety, she commanded the kitchen, ordered people with soft words but stern looks if they back talked her instructions.

“Well no one else is gunna say it.” said a woman from the other side of the counter. She had curly brown hair, jagged eyebrows that gave her the permanent expression of agitation. “So how does it feel to be the Queen of the Den?”

When you bit off from your toast, those talking halted and looked at you, some continued their jobs in silence.

You chewed a couple of times, “I don’t know what that means,” you said with a full mouth.

The woman looked up to the older woman rolling out dough. She scoffed, “Sloan knows how to pick’em.” and rolled her eyes.

With that the old woman banged the roller on the counter and pointed it back at the woman. “Peach! It’s true!”

“I won’t hear it!” said Peach, her soft voice broke into a growl. “Dottie shut that damn big hole in your face!”

“It’s not for you to know how to strengthen the pack.” Peach relaxed back, held the roller between thick knuckles and looked back toward you.

“Sorry about that Prime. I wouldn’t recon young and dumb went hand in hand unless it came to Dottie. She meant no harm.”

You nodded slightly, sat up a bit straighter and continued to eat. Sloan? After all this, you had never known his first name. They returned to work, though Dottie went right back to chatting with the woman next to her. The little girl hummed next to you as she moved to the next sleeve of crackers. And halfway swallowing the orange juice the back door swung open with a man carrying an animal over his shoulder. Sy entered right behind him, the man slammed the carcass on a large prepping table at the back of the large kitchen.

Sy’s gaze never left you as he walked across the kitchen, he slipped in between you and the girl and kissed the top of your head.

“Hey Sloan.” you said under your breath, he pulled back nodded then smiled slightly as he grabbed a few crackers from the table.

“Are you done?” he asked, you plucked the toast from the plate and followed him out the back door.

You walked and walked with Sy. After a few minutes of silence he grabbed your hand and led you away from the house deeper into the land.

“What’s going to happen to Cindy,” you asked quietly.

“At dark there will be a ceremony, she will be buried then.”

He said it matter of fact though it did not set that way with you. But nothing really felt right since you got here. It was just another shocking development after another really. “What kind of ceremony?”

Sy helped you step over a fell tree, “For the turning. She has to be burned before it’s over.”

You tried not to take his callousness to heart. Though it did seem insane to speak of the dead in such a way. It didn’t strike you as hard though. Something within you felt calm about it, like a lasting trust for the man near.

And you didn’t know if it was the walking but you felt sick. At first in your stomach but quickly it grew to aches and cramps in your belly.

“I heard Olive say that,” you said through a twist beginning to gnaw at your back.

“The pack expects it. I’m the Alpha Prime, it is up to me to see that we are safe. And I will do it. I’ll do it till my last breath.”

Sy let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your back. “This land is for you too,” his hand drifted down your back and settled into the back pocket of your jeans. “I want you to feel at home here.”

When you didn’t respond Sy stopped and forced you to look at him. His fingers stroked your cheek and then with the back of his hand, testing and feeling your claiming skin. “You need me?” he asked.

Shaking your head you pulled from him and walked whatever direction you thought he was going. But you didn’t get far before you doubled over.

Sy was there, near you making you stand up and lean on him. “Come on, there’s a cabin near. It should be vacant for a few hours.”

“We can’t just use someone’s home-” you winced.

He made you walk with him again, “It's not. Call it a lookout, there are other things out here a lot more dangerous than the occasional coyote.”

You huddled into him, sweating and whining as he walked you down the path where a small house came into view. He helped you up the stairs feeling the wetness building between your thighs. And as soon as you got in it he was on you. “We barely made it in here love.” he said between kisses. His hands quickly grabbed and tugged at your pants as he walked you toward a patchy couch.

His nose dragged from your neck, your breasts with his fingers pulling at the top of your jeans. You didn’t fight him when he pushed you down. You didn’t say a word when he used your jeans and underwear as a way of holding your legs up and close to your chest. Exposing your glistening pussy, Sy pulled himself out and entered you immediately. Bare upper thighs, Sy’s hands held you there allowing the pants to continue to restrain your legs.

“Do I really want this? Or is it something else?” you moaned as he pumped fast.

Your eyes rolled back, “Feels so good.” you whispered as he thumped harder.

“It's real,...you belong to me.” Sy leaned in crushing you more with his weight and size. He sucked hard and fanned breath down to you as he huffed, “Always have…the smoke wouldn’t have taken if it weren’t true.”

“You,” he pushed in with every word, “..belong to me.”

“They live in the fog,” Sy said and pointed toward the dark patches between trees.

You were right to be afraid, not of them though, for you had seen these on your first ride up here. In the car with a chatty Cindy you had told yourself it was only an illusion. Perhaps the fear was of yourself, the ignorance, the lack of connection to worlds thought to be of lore that were closer than you thought.

“Who are they?” you asked while walking closer to Sy. The open woods felt smaller now, what other beings existed out in the wild?

“Sprites, small gods.” he said, looking forward again. “B’careful and never ask anything of them. They crave warmth at the best of times, they like to hang around bodies. But if you speak to them it’sa chance for them to get inside of you.”

You said nothing after that, wide eyes continued to search the trees recognizing more hazy emotionless faces than before with each step. Light from the torches grew brighter, illuminating the dark and with it the beings faded with the touch of heat.

You entered the area lined with thick wooden torches topped with fire. The other alphas followed behind with their mates and little was said among them. The crack of the fires to the cold of the night was the only sound that really interrupted the moment.

Sy and you stood just within the entry of this circle of flames, one after the other one alpha with his mate took their spots around the center. Built of wood like a stage and on top - a body shrouded in white, it reminded you of something you had only seen in the movies, a funeral pyre. Rex stepped close to the structure, his head pointed toward it, the flicker of shadows and light play down his back and over his head. The shiny beads, things that looked like round coins hung and clinked together in the gust of frigid wind.

You didn’t look away until you felt Sy step away. He was behind you, unhooking the handle of the torch from the pole. And he stared toward it, walked past you and flung the torch into the brush skirting the pile.

The moment it caught fire something twisted within your gut and chest. At first it felt like guilt, a pang across the muscles in your chest but it persisted. It burst to life in your senses from your lungs and spread out to the tips of your fingers and toes. You heard screaming, light quips of moans from the other women. When you looked around they too were grabbing their chests at the same time you hunched over. Standing there in sparse dead grass, you tried to steady yourself, bracing the air but nothing came to your aid. It buckled your knees. Whatever this was swept through you in waves of pain and knowing. You weren’t sure of anything, but it felt okay, that all of this wouldn’t last.

The wood cried as flames engulfed the bottom tier completely. And with it, the very atmosphere around you snapped and spit energy you’ve never felt before. Low growling from all around but the loudest, the longest comes from your side. You look up from the ground to Sy. Teeth bared through his thick beard his brows were pulled tight, the angles of his features once again exaggerated into something not human. You stared horrified when he began to claw at his chest, his fingers were not his own, they were long, gnarly and tipped with long nails. The yell from his mouth was an ear splitting soul shaking screech that shook your spirit.

With the crack of bones, his skin sloughs off long black fur, the floppy bits hit the ground and immediately sank in and became fertile ground that sprouted green grass. His legs grew long and bulky and snapped back like that of a dog. He grew taller, bigger with a wolf's snout and face.

Suddenly a shriek from the fire rang above the growling and howling around you. Upon the pyre the fire had reached Cindy, but she wasn’t laying there any more. Her body stood, claws ripped through the sheet as it too caught fire. You stared up at it hopelessly, panting hard your heart thumping at an inhuman speed, part of you gave up in the wake of this. You sat there unable to fight the buckling and rebirth of your senses.

Cindy’s body lept from the toppling pyre toward you. No time to react or run something large stepped between you and it. A man screamed from your right, he was in the middle of changing to. Rex stepped toward it with his face shifting in and out of human and wolf and tried to grab the thing by its arm.

The sheet had burned and melted into what was once Cindy’s face. Its jaw opened long, stretching pieces of fabric and skin across its dark mouth and shrieked. The thing swiped at Rex, slicing through his skin to the white of his flesh across his neck, chest and belly. Blood splashed into the air and to the ground. He crumpled to the ground, dead before he even touched it. And when Cindy’s body turned back toward you something suddenly impaled her chest straight back into the fire, pinning her there until the families consumed her completely.

It was quiet after besides your breathing and the warping of blood in your ears. Sy, now fully transformed, stepped to Rex, picked him up and as gently as he could, placed his body too in the fire next to Cindy.

His feet were large paws that you centered your attention on. Displacing the dirt with every step you refused to pull your eyes up further. And when he knelt down to you, his great big clawed furry hands sat on either side of your body. He nudged the side of your face with his wet nose until you did look up. His eyes were the same, with the ripple of honey across blue that you had seen before. He tilted his head down, rubbed his nose into the palm of your hand until finally you ran your hand over the bridge of his nose, and up into the thick fur between two giant ears.

He pushed his nose into your neck gently before he stood up. Whatever had come over you was quickly dispersing. Though now, after, you smelled more, like a scent had color or flavor that you had never noticed before. The same with your vision, prying your eyes off the newly formed Sy, and glancing at the trees and saw the fog people for who they were. No longer just faces, full bodied apparitions with different clothes and emotions of their own. And your hearing, besides the tiniest movement of creatures, you could sense the footsteps in the ground and in your ears from the direction of the house. However peering through the dark you could see their silhouettes were still quite close to the house.

Sy grunted and you turned back to him. His snout was tilted up toward the sky, sniffing and licking the air. He howled long and loud and the others followed. He turned to you once again, baring his teeth and took off, leaping over the pyre toward the other side of the circle. A sudden rush of the others following their leader joined him and disappeared into the forest.

The hall was packed. Along with the row of three tables that you had seen before, there was another, running diagonal at the top. You sat next to Sy who sat at this table, on the middle cushion, surrounded with the faces you had come to recognize. The new members appeared as you felt, lost perhaps in the fray of the night's ceremony, exhausted too, and probably worried about their new lives. They too most likely felt the pull as well. The fading of what their old lives were being replaced by the energy of family around them.

But even as they and you came to grips with what this new life included cheering erupted throughout the hall. Laughing, and gesturing toward one another as they ate and swapped tales of their adventure in the forest. Yes, this felt like family. Something you weren’t so used to having.

Peach came walking to you and Sy holding a large platter made of wood. She came to your side and slid it into the empty space on the table. On it were slices of meat overlapping in a circle that looked nearly raw with it’s moist flesh, and dark red sauce.

Sy picked one up, he placed it near your mouth. A subtle smile played at the corner of his lips as he urged you to open. You felt the enormity of this moment if you took this bite. This was it, you would be accepting your place here and everything that meant. You stared into his eyes and then took a small bite. The flavor was metallic in your mouth, tangy and fleshy as you chewed. Sy ate the other part. He passed the plate to the next man who did the same with his mate.

He leaned close to you, his nose sniffed your neck back and forth tilting his head slowly. “I think you got a secret.” he whispered, still sniffing you, his nose brushing upon the skin of your jaw.

“I don’t think it’s a secret that this is all weird,” you laughed softly, and picked at your food.

His nose touched your skin again and breathed in deep, “Oh yeah,” his lips caressed the rim of your ear. “You’re pregnant.”

You jerked your head toward him, mouth slightly parted, the words escaping as they formed in your mind. “I will protect you..” he said.

“I will love you ‘til the end of my days.” His fingers glided long the other side of your jaw to your chin. “D’you accept me?” he asked quietly.

The hall had gone quiet. You ignored the weight of their stares. Slowly you stroked his beard and nodded slightly. “I accept you.” you whispered back. And cheering roared. Part 2

#Black reader #black female reader #x black!reader #dark!syverson #dark!geralt #dark!syverson x black reader #dark!geralt x black reader

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atwooozi · 1 year ago

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gojo x original character

Chapter 7: Trust

summary: At the end of a demanding week, Ai is invited to a wrap party, where she reluctantly agrees to mingle outside her comfort zone. Amidst the laughter and banter, Ai observes the real dynamics of the cast and crew, capturing fleeting glimpses of the man behind Gojo's public persona. Her determination to uncover the authentic Gojo fuels her, but as the lines between professional distance and personal connection blur, Ai faces an inner struggle—can she maintain her integrity while digging deeper into Gojo's guarded life?

genre: modern AU, slice of life, comedy, eventual romance, eventual smut, some angst

A/N: So before posting these chapters I like to think about what songs I'd like to pair with them because it's fun for me and I had a really difficult time deciding what songs would "fit" this chapter. Anyway, I landed on two songs that I think would be great for this chapter. Oddly, I think they kind of work together.

First is I CAN'T STOP THE LONELINESS by Anri. I love this song when I picture this fic as an anime I always pic this song as the opening. The second song is Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan. I love her 80s synth vibe that she brings to her music it really fits the energy that I picture whenever I sit down to write this fic. My interpretation of the lyrics could be off, but I always read them and thought of the person that Chappell Roan is singing to is closeted. It doesn't necessarily fit the narrative that I've created here, but I think the sentiment is there? Hopefully you get what I'm trying to say.

READ ON AO3

The first week of following Ai’s assignment was at an end. Just as she had gotten used to Gojo’s schedule but today, production was wrapping up, everyone seemed to be in a much better mood, except for Gojo. Gojo always seemed to be in a decent mood, whatever the circumstances. Ai wasn’t sure if that was an admirable trait or if he was just rather disconnected from everything.

“Are you gonna go to the wrap party or are you just gonna hide in here some more?” Gojo asked as he tried to take a peek at Ai’s notebook.

The “here” that Gojo was referring to was his dressing room. At this point, it served as Ai’s de facto office space as well as Geto’s photo studio. The usually sparse dressing room now had different lighting and camera equipment placed in the corner of the room, while Ai’s and Junpei’s laptops sat on the table along with their scattered papers. It was something that Ai would usually feel bad about, but Gojo seemed to enjoy the three of them in his space even if it did feel cramped.

Ai jumped a bit and brought her notebook to her chest as she gave him an unamused look. “I’m gonna head back to the hotel actually.”

“Bo- ring ~” Gojo teased as he stood up straight. “You guys are gonna come, right?” he asked Geto and Junpei, jutting out his lower lip and batting his lashes.

“I have some stuff to do, but I’ll make an appearance,” Geto shrugged as he snapped a quick shot of Gojo. Geto tsked as he looked down at his camera screen. “Satoru, stop looking directly at the camera.”

“But the camera loves me, Suguru.” Gojo pouted at his friend, batting his lashes.

Geto rolled his eyes in response and put his camera down.

“I-I can come?” Junpei pointed to himself in disbelief, bringing Gojo back to his earlier conversation.

Gojo clapped Junpei on the back and laughed. “Of course, Junpei-kun!”

“It’s going to be at a bar not too far from here just in case someone changes their mind , ” Gojo glanced at Ai and playfully stuck out his tongue, reminiscent of a petulant child, before adjusting his blindfold over azure eyes.

Ai narrowed her eyes at Gojo’s antics. “I don’t think so, but I hope you all have fun.”

Gojo left the dressing room without looking back, his laughter echoing down the hallway as he waved carelessly.

Once he was out of sight, Ai thumbed through her notes. The pages were filled with different scribbles from her week. She felt like she held a wealth of information in her hands, but hardly any of it was straight from Gojo, which stressed her more than she’d care to admit. As she scanned the pages of her notebook, she smiled to herself. During Gojo’s downtime, Ai noticed he liked to play the Digimon card game online. It made her laugh when he would get called for a scene in the middle of a game because of how conflicted he would look. Ai sighed and shut her notebook, she didn’t want to dwell on it too much. She was sure that once she did a proper look-through, she would see that she had more to work with than she expected.

“Are you sure you don't want to go?” Geto approached Ai as she was packing up. While she wasn’t completely sure, the expression on Geto’s face looked a bit devious.

“It's not really my scene, besides, I wouldn't want Gojo to feel like he has to filter himself because I'm there,” Ai said meekly.

Gojo snorted in response. “Trust me, Satoru won't care. See it as a networking thing.” He grabbed Ai's bag and slung it on his shoulder along with his own. “Leave your work at home for once, Ai-san.”

Ai narrowed her eyes at Geto as he gave her an innocent-looking smile in return.

Junpei nodded in agreement. “Geto-san is right,” he said falling in step behind them as they made their way to the car. “It’s going to be fun!”

“Why thank you, supervisor Junpei.” Geto hummed.

Ai wanted to fall to her knees in despair when she heard Junpei agree with that demon . Somehow the menace of a photographer had turned her sweet kouhai against her. There was no way she was going to be able to weasel out of it now.

Uncertainty spread across Ai's face as she listened to Geto and Junpei bicker about the pictures and lighting issues throughout the day. As much as Ai wanted to sort through her notes, she couldn’t really pass up the opportunity to talk with Gojo in a more natural setting–for the article , of course.

“Fine,” Ai said, sealing her fate as she climbed into the car.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

Ai wondered if she was right to want to stay at the hotel like she initially planned. When she arrived at the bar with Junpei, everyone was already a few drinks in. The energy in the room was lively and inviting, but she felt a bit out of place.

Ai had always tried to skip work drinking parties since she and alcohol never seemed to mix well. She cringed inwardly as she thought back to the office New Year's party where she slurred her way through Anri’s “I Can’t Stop the Loneliness” at the top of her lungs. That could not happen again.

Unlike Ai and Junpei, Geto had arrived separately. He was happily sipping on sake and picking at some yakitori near the corner of the private room reserved for the Jujutsu Kaisen cast and crew.

While Ai couldn’t be certain, it seemed like Geto had made nice with the restaurant staff because despite being sat in the corner, fresh plates of food always seemed to travel his way first. She figured that it must've been one of the giggly waitresses since they would always linger a bit longer than they needed to after setting the plates down, blushing and smiling when Geto gave them a quick wink.

Ai walked over to the table where Geto sat, Junpei following behind her. “You seem to be enjoying yourself,” she said as she and Junpei took the unoccupied seats next to Geto, the apparent womanizer.

“I almost thought you changed your mind again.” Geto hummed as he took another sip of his sake.

Ai shook her head. “I got a phone call from my boss.”

“Everything good?” Geto asked, easily shifting from comfortable and relaxed and back into work mode.

“Yeah…” Ai nodded as she got more comfortable. “He just wanted to check to see where we were with the story.”

Geto nodded as he listened, lighting a cigarette. “Is he always so hands-on?”

“You smoke?” Ai ignored Geto’s question as she eyed the cigarette.

Geto raised an eyebrow at her. “Is that a problem?” He brought the cigarette to his mouth before exhaling a small puff only moments later.

Ai shook her head. She didn’t mind, she just didn’t think it suited her image of Geto. In her mind, he would smoke using a kiseru-style pipe much like a monk or a samurai did back in the 1800s. For whatever reason, cigarettes seemed too modern for him.

“So about your boss…” Geto trailed off, waiting for Ai to get back on track.

“Oh right,” Ai pursed her lips and thought and looked at Junpei, who just shrugged in response.

The thing is, Ai wasn’t even sure. With all her previous jobs she had always reported to someone under Yaga. When she got the call from her boss earlier, her heart felt like it was going to stop. She wasn’t sure how he could have found out, but she was almost positive he had somehow discovered her crush on Gojo and was about to fire her. However, Yaga gave no indication that he knew about the crush because any sane person would know that it was impossible for him to even know that. In actuality, he called just to check in and see how things were going. Yaga had much more important things to deal with than Ai’s nonexistent love life.

“No, this is just a big story for the magazine.”

“Well of course it's a big story. It's about me .” Gojo butted in as he sat himself between Ai and Junpei.

Ai couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Gojo's comment as she scooted over– then again, she couldn't deny the truth of it, either.

The man was truly everywhere--on magazine covers, on billboards, on keychains, he was inescapable. She passed him each day on her daily commute to the office--promotional images of Gojo plastered inside the station. If she paid attention, she could make out lipstick marks and encouraging post-it notes littering the promotional pictures. If she paid more attention, she would notice the lipstick and notes increasing with each passing day. The love for the man’s character was unreal.

Gojo shoved his phone in Ai’s line of sight. “Look, they’re making another figure of me. It’s beautiful, but I think I’m even prettier.”

“You’re so humble, Gojo-san,” Ai said dryly as she poured herself a beer, getting a chuckle from Geto and Junpei.

She knew that drinking probably wasn't the best idea, but between Yaga talking her ear off and Gojo being Gojo, she needed something to help her unwind a little.

“Thank you, I know,” Gojo replied, not even missing a beat as he started to pick at the various plates that littered the table.

Gojo leaned back in his seat, draping an arm casually over the back as he took the room in. “So what were we talking about before I so courteously interrupted?”

Geto glanced at Ai, asking for permission to share their conversation. She nodded as she took a sip of her beer. It tasted awful, but she continued to drink it.

“Work stuff, nothing too exciting, you really didn't miss much,” Geto explained as he took another drag from his smoke.

Gojo raised an eyebrow and looked at Ai from above his glasses, clearly unconvinced. He graciously let the subject drop and pushed a plate of yakitori in front of Ai's face with a charming smile. “Have some. It's good stuff.”

Ai pushed the plate out of her face. She leaned forward to check on Junpei and let out a sigh of relief when she saw him talking with Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara. She didn’t even notice him getting up and going to the other end of the table. She was worried that Junpei might have felt obligated to pal along with her, but she was glad to see him interact with others closer to his age.

Gojo glanced in the same direction as Ai and smiled. “They're good kids.”

Ai couldn't help but smile at Gojo's comment. Despite his usual obnoxiousness, there was a genuine warmth as he looked on at his younger costars. He almost looked fatherly with the way he spoke about them. There was an obvious care that went beyond the typical working relationship.

“They are,” Ai agreed as she rested her cheek against her fist. She felt a warmth spread in her chest. She supposed it could be the beer making its way through her system or the pride she felt as she watched her shy kouhai laugh and smile so freely. In her mind, it was a bit of both.

“They work really hard.”

“Oh yeah?” Ai glanced back at Gojo.

Gojo nodded as he bit some chicken off a skewer. “Mhm, I’ve been pushing them to train more.”

“Train more?” Ai sat up a bit straighter.

She cursed herself for not bringing a notepad with her to write anything down. Of all times–why didn’t she take her notebook with her? She quickly fumbled for her phone so she could at least type some quick notes down for later.

If Gojo noticed Ai acting like a frantic mess, he didn’t give any indication because he continued to speak calmly and affectionately. “Itadori and Kugisaki are pretty new, right? I mean, Gumi-chan is too, I guess...” he shrugged. “Anyway, I’ve been pushing for them to train more so they can do more of their own stunts.”

“How come?” Ai asked curiously. It’s not like Jujutsu Kaisen had a tight budget; they could easily afford as many stunt doubles as they needed. They just finished making a blockbuster movie with a record production budget.

“It might be a load of crap, but I think it’s necessary to truly understand your character,” Gojo explained rather matter-of-factly as he tried to steal some gyoza from Geto’s plate.

“Do you feel more connected to your character because you do your own stunts?”

Gojo pursed his lips as he continued to try and steal from Geto’s plate.

“Satoru, just get your own,” Geto complained as he started to fill a plate for Gojo himself.

“But I think the ones you have look the best,” Gojo insisted as he easily swiped Geto’s plate with a smile, causing Geto to glare at him. “Anyway, as I was saying, I think it just flows more naturally if you do it yourself.” Gojo shrugged as he started to eat his newly acquired food.

“What do you mean by ‘flows more naturally’?” Ai asked curiously as she struggled to type as much as she could before Gojo continued. When she glanced down at her phone screen the text was riddled with typos. What the hell did ‘I’ve been psy9ny for them to twin more so they dan fo their own stunts’ even mean? She hoped that Junpei would help her decipher it all later.

“I mean, it just looks better,” Gojo stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It opens up so many different possibilities in terms of shooting fight sequences and aside from what Itadori and Todo have to do, the choreography isn’t that difficult.”

“Are you sure it’s actually that easy?” Ai questioned. “I mean, of course, it’s easy for you –you were a professional fighter before an actor.”

Gojo put his chopsticks down and looked over to Ai with a cat-like grin, dipping his glasses down his nose to see her more clearly. “Ai-chan, have you been looking into me?”

Ai blinked at the man. “I mean, that’s literally my job.”

“Oh yeah.” Gojo chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “I forgot.”

Ai rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but smile to herself. Internally she wanted to throw her hands up in the air and cheer. She had finally gotten something more from Gojo. She made a note to herself to thank Geto and Junpei for convincing her to go.

The night carried on and Ai seemed to relax. The worries of work melted away as she drank more and more beer. She felt her body noticeably relax as time passed. She wasn’t sure if it was because she had some more workable material or if it was the alcohol making its way through her system. The only thing she could wonder now was when had she become so stressed that her whole body seemed to ache with tension.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

On the trip back to Tokyo, Ai decided to use the two-hour ride home to sort through her notes despite her mild hangover. She wasn’t ready to start writing the article yet, there was still too much work that needed to be done, but this would help keep the information fresh in her tired mind.

She skimmed through her notes and prepared to transfer them to her laptop.

He hides behind smiles, but maybe even unbeknownst to him, his giveaway when he’s stressed is the way he tends to clench his fist.

Ai frowned as she looked over that particular note. She recalled jotting it down when there was a technical malfunction on set, but she noticed him doing it whenever Gakuganji didn’t like a particular take of his. It was too wordy or maybe it was just that it wasn’t that interesting to begin with. She didn’t like it at least. She frowned as she transferred the line into her word doc. As a writer, she’d find a way to rework it at a later time. It could be the future Ai’s problem. The dull headache she had made it difficult for her to do much else anyway.

Ai leaned back into her seat and stared out the window, taking in the blurring scenery. She was still having a difficult time pinning Gojo down. She couldn’t really make a whole article based on their brief conversations. It was difficult for her to discern what was real and what was just an act he put on. She only could capture brief moments of the person beneath the character; that was the nature of the game with actors, but she wanted to dig deeper.

Most actors put up a front. It was all part of the job for them. It didn’t matter how famous the actor was. Ai remembered when she interviewed Nobara, the girl put up as much of an act as Gojo did, but unlike Gojo, Nobara was able to reveal her caring nature and sense of duty to her craft without much trouble. It did take some work, though. It was when Ai finally convinced Nobara that she wouldn’t write about her more-than-platonic relationship with one of her female co-stars that she seemed to really open up.

Given that there was a large shipping culture around Jujutsu Kaisen characters, Ai decided to ask Nobara about her thoughts on same-sex female pairings. She expected Nobara to give a diplomatic answer, but she answered rather casually. Ai tried to remember what the actress said. It was something like, ‘Honestly, I think it’s great that people can see themselves in the characters they love. If I saw that on TV I’d probably come out to my grandma.’ Ai wanted to include that in the article. But since Nobara wasn’t fully out to her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she hurt someone like that–even if she was trying to encourage others in the process.

Besides, it wasn’t the type of story that Ai wanted to write anyway. Ai did her best to be professional; she wanted her subjects and sources to know that they could safely talk with her. Yes, she was a reporter, but her integrity as a person meant more to her than any story. She would like to believe that didn’t need to rely on such underhanded tactics to get readers. She just had no idea how she’d convince Gojo of that…

It felt like whenever she was getting closer to gaining his trust, he’d immediately put a wall up. It was frustrating, honestly. She scoffed as she thought about it. People always said she rarely let people in, but she'd argue that Gojo might be worse.

Ai frowned as she crossed her arms over her chest. She generally didn’t like getting too friendly with the people she was writing about–it was just easier that way. It probably would be safer for her if she kept Gojo at a distance anyway. She didn’t want her feelings to grow into anything more than a crush. For the sake of her sanity, she couldn’t allow that to happen. After all, these stories weren’t about the relationships she formed with her subjects. The articles Ai wrote were about her subjects and her subjects alone.

Ai would have to make a special exception for this case. In order to get something tangible from Gojo, she would have to offer a bit of something in return. It was the last thing she wanted, but she didn’t have much of a choice. How else could she get Gojo to open up to her if she didn’t open up a little herself? She could stand to be a bit more vulnerable if that’s what he needed to trust her.

As the train carried on towards Tokyo, Ai couldn't help but feel some anxiety stir within her. It felt like electricity was traveling down her arms and into her fingertips. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing instead. The tingling soon dulled and she opened her eyes again to stare out the window. She could see her reflection in the window and frowned as her tired face stared back at her.

She could do this. Ai sighed and rubbed her temples, the faint throb of her headache still there. She refused to let it slow her down, though.

Her gaze drifted back over to her laptop. “One step at a time,” she muttered to herself, as her hands moved swiftly over the keys. As time passed, Ai had amassed pages of notes, each line a fragment of who Gojo was. The pieces were coming together but she still couldn’t see the whole picture.

Ai glanced out the window once more, the skyscrapers of Tokyo coming into sight. The train began to slow, and a voice came over the speaker alerting passengers of their imminent arrival. Ai quickly saved her work and shut down her laptop.

She glanced at her reflection once more. The same tired woman stared back at her, but now there was at least a flicker of confidence. “You’ve got this,” she whispered to herself, standing up and preparing to disembark.

#fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #jjk gojo fic #jjk fic #jjk gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x oc #gojo satoru

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