#actually the REALLY funny thing is one of the other managers thought I was already fired and got me a nice present for my last day

[why-bless-your-heart]

Pray for me please, I’m having problems at work that are 90% my fault and I have to discuss it with my supervisor tomorrow.

[clockwayswrites]

Birds and wings and hope Part 13

Masterpost

Danny had thought hat if he finished with Frostbite early that he would spend a few days in the zone to catch up with some of the other ghosts. He hadn’t wanted to with the wings. It wasn’t that Danny was ashamed of the wings, not from the fact of having different features, but Frostbite had seemed certain that Danny was in a heavily mutable state right then. The more people that knew Phantom with wings, the more likely they were to stick as they cemented in consciousness and identity.

Or something like that.

Danny had a whole stack of reading tucked away in his chest to go through later.

Just wanting time alone, Danny had given himself somewhere between an hour and a day (time was hard to tell in the zone) to sulk among the sparks and dust that were long dead stars before forced himself to get a grip and go home. He was an adult for, well, him sake he guessed. He could deal with this.

The reading set on the left side of the coffee table with a fresh notebook next to it. It wouldn’t do to mix up this work with his actual work, so Danny was sure to pick out one with a green cover from the stash that he kept on hand of his favorite dot patterned paper notebooks. He’d draw a blob ghost or something on it later. A few color pens and a highlighter joined the little pile, set in a battered and chipped Amity Park tourist trap mug.

Sam had gotten it for Danny as a present due to the so hideous it was funny caricature of Phantom on it.

On the right side of the coffee table went a box of protein bars, electrolyte drinks, suck’em candies, and Danny’s well stocked pill container. He moved the coffee table a little closer to the couch, turned the TV on to a playlist of Mythbuster episodes, and made sure he had his favorite blanket in hand before he transformed back.

And fuck that hurt. Pain shot up Danny’s back, radiating up through his shoulders, and shooting along his Lichtenberg scars so intensely that they burned. Danny collapsed inelegantly onto the couch with a defeated whimper.

Maybe it was the wings? Did having a different set of limbs as a ghost cause transfered muscle aches to his human form? He didn’t even have muscles as a ghost, not really, but the mind was a very powerful thing and not even Frostbite was entirely sure of how exactly the two parts of a halfa effected each other.

After the worst of the pain had dulled slightly, Danny managed to toss back his medication (missing doses while Phantom never did him any good) and pulled the candies close enough that he could use them as a distraction for his senses. Slowly the muscle relaxant worked its magic and Danny became a boneless lump. The episodes of Mythbusters idly distracted him as he just let his thoughts drift over what Frostbite had said.

Frostbite was sure that there had to be a reason— or several— that Danny’s form had shifted into a bird and after retained the wings still. Frostbite felt the first step to this all, if Danny was determined to either control or to get an understanding of where this all was going, was to understand the subconscious or symbolic particulars of the change.

The why Frostbite felt was clear: Danny had been without a haunt for too long now. Yes, he accepted, the pollen may have certain accelerated matters (hence the full bird then and only the wings now), but Frostbite was admit that the change wouldn’t have been occurring at this stage if Phantom had still been the protector of Amity Park.

Phantom had a purpose in Amity Park. Phantom was a protector and guardian. That guardianship extended to a very limited range. Now that Amity Park was many, many years behind him and Danny was living in a place already full of its own protectors, the Phantom part of Danny was left adrift which allowed for this new stage of ghosthood.

Why couldn’t his ghost half just be happy with a nice long nap?

“Fuck you, Phantom,” Danny grumbled as he watched a car be vaporized upon impact on the screen. Idly Danny wondered if he could get an object up to that speed if he flew fast enough.

Several hours and several protein bars later, Danny was managing to sit up enough to start going through some of the reading Frostbite had sent and make notes. Two more episodes and delivered Indian food later, Danny scrawled on the top of a fresh page ‘The Subconscious & Symbolic Particulars of Wings’.

Why on earth and beyond did he have wings?

‘Flying’, Danny wrote first and then as many reasons he could think of why he loved flying from the freedom of it to space to the way that it felt to move through a cloud. ‘Freedom’ branched off into movement and escape and getting to become his own person without the weight of Amity. ‘Gravity’ and ‘Identity’ sprawled into transformation and his death and the million of ways that it had changed everything about his life.

It was hard to think about.

Danny turned the page.

‘Wings’. Wings and feathers. Birds. Pigeons and crows and ducks and robins. And Robins. Biblically accurate angels who created the cosmos. Hope. And always hope.

“‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers — ”

Hope and Robins and Bats.

And always hope.

Was Gotham his haunt?

Was he the thing with feathers?

---

AN: shhhhh I've been writing as my wind down before sleep. Also special prize for @stoiczee. I promise we'll see more batfam next part. Danny just needed some time to react!

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 3 - "Okay, show me."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

"So… first time getting kidnapped?"

Tim blinked at the teen that was tied to a wall right across from him. He marveled for a a moment at how similar the two looked and even thought that he could see how the other teen could have gotten mistakenly kidnapped in his place. Though if they had already kidnapped him then why did they end up kidnapping him again?

"No, getting kidnapped kinda comes with the name and status." Tim finally answered and the other kid nodded sagely as if he understood. "Usually they are a little more incompetent."

He moved his wrists a little causing the strange silver bracelets they had slapped on his wired before chaining him to the wall so that they would cause a rattling noise, making the other teen look at them with a raised eyebrow.

"So first time getting kidnapped by the GIW then."

"GIW?"

"Guys in White, or well Ghost Investigation Ward, a government organization." The other teen explained with a shrug. "Usually they are incompetent. Aside from a couple of burns from getting shot, this is the first time they actually managed to chain me in a while. Normally they would have messed up by now but it's interesting that they even manage to nap you too."

Now Tim raised an eyebrow. That was news to him. To think there was a governmental organization that was actively abducting civilians for who knows what. Damn, he could see how B would not be happy once he told them about that.

"Sorry btw." Tim blinked up at the other teen in confusion, who chuckled in return. "They probably kidnapped you thinking you were my double or something. We look similar enough for them to think that."

"Wait…" Tim's eyes widened in realization. "They kidnapped me because I look like you? Not the other way around?"

"Uh yeah, why would I be kidnapped because of you?"

"Tim Drake-Wayne. Does that ring a bell?" Tim huffed only to watch how the other teen furrowed his eyebrows as if deep in thoughts before shrugging.

"In fact no it doesn't. But I don't keep up with high society, it helps pissing of the fruitloop whenever he drags me to 'meet important people' and I actively call them false names no matter how often he introduces them."

Tim's eye twitched. While that is fun, this was also the first time he met someone who hadn't heard of his name before in some way or form. In the end just let out a sigh.

"So what now? We wait to get rescued or will they release us after some time?" Well he had already tipped off his family, so it was probably only a matter of time until one of his siblings burst in to play knight in shining armor. He just hoped it wasn't Jason again, or he wouldn't shut up about having saved him for another month.

"Oh we can wait, but they won't release us. It's probably better if we get out on our own."

"Really? And how do you plan for us to get out of the handcuffs?" Well Tim did have a lock pin hidden in his jacket and some small sized tools stuffed into the sole of his shoes but with his hands chained above his head it was a little difficult to get them. But his feet were not chained so with just a bit of body twisting he could-

"Oh the handcuffs are no problem. They can be easily removed by overloading them."

"Overloading?" Tim arched an eyebrow, now the cuffs did not look like your normal brand he can admit that but how was the other going to do that unless he had some secret electric tool stored on him.

"Yea, overloading. It's pretty simple. These look like the same Brant they tried to cuff me with a year ago. It's funny how they look like they haven't learned a single thing in all these years."

"Really now?" Tim stared at the other teen unimpressed. "Okay, show me. How are you going to overload them with no tools around?"

"Easy." The other teen smirked at him and Tim's eyes widen as he saw the others hands emitting a green light before the cuffs on his wrist sparked and then fell off. Okay, noted the other teen was a Meta.

"My name is Danny by the way." Danny grinned as he rubbed his wrists before getting up and walking over to Tim to do the same to his cuffs. Tim rubbed his his own wirsts, carefully examining them for any time of injury only to look up just in time to watch Danny reach into his own chest. With wide eyes he watched Danny sticking out his tongue while one of his hands was going through his body as if he was looking for something.

"Aha! I knew I stuck them in my body somewhere for a situation like this!" Okay there was so much to unpack from this sentence alone but before Tim could even ask a single question Danny pulled out a lockpick set from his chest and proceeded to pick at their cell door.

"I have so many questions." Tim muttered, still watching the other teen.

"Well I can probably answer some of them once we are out of here. It's the least I can do after you get kidnapped because of me." Danny grinned as the lock he was working on clicked and he swung the door open. "Wanna talk over some coffee? You look like you need some."

"This is definitely not what I expected when I said 'show me'." Tim muttered once more walking passed Danny out of their cell, eager to leave this place.

"Yea well that the more civilian friendly things I can do." Danny followed with a grin. "Though I do have some other tricks I could have used too."

"You talk like a hero." Tim thought aloud, eyeing the teen and how they were holding themselves. Nothing about this teen screamed innocent civilian anymore, well aside from the obvious Meta abilities. He also marbled about the fact that they basically just walked out of the warehouse they had been holding. Huh looked like these GIW guys were really as incompetent as Danny had mentioned earlier.

"Yea, well I am a retired Hero." Great now Tim got more to look into in regards to Danny. Oh that reminded him, he probably should tell his family that he was no longer kidnapped… but that could probably wait until after he got his coffee with Danny. What was the worst that could happen? Red Hood storming an empty building. Oh well, it would be a good exercise for his brother then.

[gi4hao]

☆ dino x gn!reader — domestic fluff!

☆ from repairing a sink to love confessions on the kitchen floor

9pm is right around the corner, and you know for a fact that your boyfriend is far from being done with repairing the leak under your kitchen sink. but of course he won’t accept defeat, which is why you resorted to having dinner on the floor, sat next to him to keep him company.

“you really should go lie down on the couch” chan tells you from beneath the sink, his voice muffled and punctuated by the clinks of his tools. “this isn’t good for your back.”

he’s not wrong, this position is definitely not the comfiest even though you managed to rest against a piece of furniture. but the view isn’t so bad here, you think to yourself, contently watching his arms flex as he twists and tightens metal pieces here and there.

“but if i leave who’s going to feed you those baby tomatoes?” you ask, looking at the half-eaten bowl in front of you.

putting his tools down, he emerges from under the sink with a contented sigh, stretching his limbs as he sits upright. “you’re such a simp” he chuckles, yet still gladly opens his mouth for you to throw yet another tomato inside.

with an exaggerated scoff, you put a hand over your heart in mock offense: “excuse me? says the biggest simp ever?”

the thing is, you don’t even mind being called a simp; you’re lucid enough to know that it’s only the truth. similarly, chan doesn’t mind it either, but it’s just so much more entertaining to deny and act like it offends him.

“if there’s a simp in this room it’s definitely you. and allow me to tell you why…” you tell him as he returns to the small confined space below your countertop.

you don’t even have to make an effort to gather your thoughts, countless examples just flow naturally into your brain: “first of all, you always carry me on your back when we’re walking back home from a party. you kiss me goodbye every morning even when i’m still asleep. you have a picture of me in your wallet, i’m your phone and ipad wallpaper. also, you keep a secret box on your side of the closet where you put all the receipts from our dates…”

a few seconds of silence follow your words.

when you lean to your side to finally catch a glimpse of your quiet boyfriend, it turns out he’s looking right back at you, a surprised expression painted on his face: “i didn’t know you knew about the box.”

suddenly, he gets the funny sensation that you’re definitely going to win this round.

“i know many things” you affirm, a satisfied smile on your lips as you keep going: “i know that you always keep one of my doodles in your phone case. i know that you bought duplicates of my skincare products to keep in your car as an emergency kit. and i also may or may not have heard you talk to seungkwan about me…”

this time, it’s a loud bang that comes to punctuate your sentence. but before you can even start to worry, chan yells a reassuring “i’m okay!” before getting out of there once again, “just dropped my tool, that’s all. but now let’s circle back to what you just said…”

with a chuckle, you notice a slight embarrassment spreading on his face, his cheeks turning a familiar shade of pink.

your relationship has never been a secret, so it wasn’t a surprise to know that he likely spoke about you to the other members. however, you hadn’t truly considered the nature of those conversations until a few months ago, when you had sort of eavesdropped on a discussion.

“don’t be embarrassed” you reassure him, a playful spark in your eyes: “it was nice to hear you describe us as a “perfect match” and feeling like “a married couple already, but in the best possible way”.

at this point, his surrender is palpable. “okay, you win. maybe i am a simp,” he concedes, a mixture of defeat and self-consciousness coloring his voice. his shoulders sag slightly, but his gaze is still full of affection. “i can’t deny it anymore. just like i can’t deny that I’m not a handyman. i actually have no idea if I’m fixing this thing or just making it worse.”

“i think it’s time to leave the plumbing to the experts,” you tease, taking the screwdriver out of his hands, “let’s bail on this floor and go cuddle on the couch; i’ll order some proper food.”

with just those words, he flashes you a bright smile, one that you know so well you could sketch it from memory. as he rises to his feet, he looks at you earnestly: “i meant what i said to seungkwan, you know,” he confesses, his voice softer than usual.

you take a brief moment to let his words and his sincerity sink in: “i know, baby,” you reply, your own voice matching his softness as you grab his hand to get up. “and that’s exactly how i feel too.”

his smile grows even bigger, relieved to see that you not only understand the depth of his love for you, but reflect it back to him as well. it’s all he’s ever hoped for, really — to find someone he could trust implicitly, someone he could pour all his love into, knowing it would be returned with the same intensity.

“we really are made for each other,” he states, giving you a proud nod as he pulls you close, arms wrapped around your waist.

“yeah, look at us. in love, both clueless about fixing that sink. perfect match.”

with a heartfelt laugh, chan gently rests his hand on your neck, pulling you closer for a kiss; the kind that lingers for a few more seconds than what you expected. just enough time for the both of you to think about how lucky you are to have found each other in this lifetime.

requests are open!

[anakinstwinklebunny]

DOCTOR!ANAKIN HEADCANONS 🩺

TW: at some point it contains mentions of body worshipping, blow job..just in general pretty filthy sexual content so, if you're uncomfortable with the warning, please do not read for your own safety and comfort 💓

Doctor!Anakin who was your doctor in the beginning but already caught your interest. He wasn't like other doctors here, in this clinic. He was actually polite, patient, made actually funny and, most important, no inappropriate jokes to lighten the mood. Plus, he was dead handsome and that alone brought your heart to race like crazy

Doctor!Anakin who surprisingly to you, liked you in a way doctor doesn't like his patients, rather like a lover does. He tried to make different jokes while you were visiting his office to somehow bring himself closer to you. Of course, as much as he wanted to ask you out, he wouldn't do it while he was at work, it'd be unprofessional

Doctor!Anakin who, when you started dating, became your private doctor 24/7

Doctor!Anakin who often gave you the contacts to the best doctors in town which happened to be his close friends

Doctor!Anakin who's absolutely protective over you and always cares about your health. That's why he often suggested to go with you for tests. Since, for example, he knew that you hate blood tests and get very anxious and emotional during it. But it's not like he's all the time filling your mind with testing yourself. He just very gently and calmly asks if you want to go with him (since he tries to test himself regularly) take tests and if you agree, he's more than happy to really be there for you during some of them (he knows how anxious and scared you can be)

Doctor!Anakin who did an operation on you when you had to have one;

Fun fact this was supposed to be a collab with beautiful @kingdomhate to which we agreed to do months ago so @kingdomhate , I'm waiting for you 🙄

As a doctor, Anakin had navigated the intricacies of countless surgeries with precision and unwavering focus. His hands were steady, his mind sharp. But today was different. Today, it was you on the surgical table. Despite the calm facade he maintained, a deep, unspoken worry gnawed at him.

Your eyes, wide with a mix of curiosity and fear, followed the syringe as he prepared it, the clear liquid shimmering ominously inside. "What’s that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with anxiety.

Anakin’s heart ached at the sight of your uncertainty. He met your gaze with eyes full of warmth, a soft frown creasing his brow as he gently explained. "It’s just the anesthesia, sweetheart. It’s going to help you drift off to sleep, and when you wake up, everything will be over. You won’t feel a thing, I promise."

You nodded, your trust in him unwavering, though the apprehension still lingered in your eyes. "Okay," you murmured, a slight quiver in your voice.

Anakin’s smile was tender, a small attempt to comfort you as his fingers brushed delicately against your cheek, tracing the familiar contours of your face. "We’re going to start now. Are you ready to let go and get some rest?" he asked, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

You managed a faint smile, trying to muster some lightness in the midst of your fear. "I guess I could use some more sleep," you replied, your tone soft but still tinged with anxiety.

A quiet chuckle escaped him, a sound filled with love and reassurance. As he carefully administered the anesthesia, his touch was as gentle as a whisper. "That’s my brave girl," he murmured, his voice a soothing lullaby. "Just relax and let the world fade away. I’ll be here, right by your side."

As Anakin made his way to your room, fatigue weighed heavily on his shoulders. The operation had been long and demanding, every second requiring his full concentration. But despite the exhaustion tugging at him, a deep sense of relief washed over him knowing that the surgery was a success. The thought of seeing you again filled him with renewed energy.

When he entered the room and saw you lying in bed, a soft smile touched his lips. He moved closer, his eyes warm and filled with affection as they took in your drowsy form. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice gentle, almost a whisper.

You didn’t respond immediately, your eyes hazy and unfocused from the lingering effects of the anesthesia. Instead, you gazed up at him as though you were seeing an apparition, a gentle, almost dreamlike expression on your face.

A quiet, affectionate chuckle escaped Anakin as he noticed the dazed look in your eyes. You were undeniably under the influence of the drugs, and the sight of you like this was both endearing and amusing.

"You're so high right now," he teased, a fond smile playing on his lips as he watched you struggle to focus on his face.

With a clumsy movement, you lifted your hand and poked at the fabric of his smock, your touch light and uncoordinated. "You’re... fine-looking," you mumbled, your voice slow and slurred, as though the words themselves were drifting on a cloud.

Anakin couldn’t help but laugh, the sound deep and rich, filling the room with warmth. There was something so utterly charming about your drugged-up state, and the way you were trying to compliment him despite it all. He raised an eyebrow, still grinning as he leaned a little closer. "Just fine-looking?" he teased back, his tone playful, his eyes sparkling with humor.

Anakin leaned in closer, his gaze softening as he took in every detail of your face. Now just inches away, he could see the delicate curve of your lips, the gentle rise and fall of your breath, and the way your lashes fluttered slightly as you struggled to focus on him.

"You're absolutely gorgeous though" he murmured, his voice low and tender as his eyes traced over your features, lingering on every part of your face like a painter admiring his masterpiece.

You gasped softly, a rosy blush creeping up your cheeks as his words sank in. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you whispered in awe, "That cute guy likes me..."

Anakin’s laughter was warm and full of affection, his heart melting at how sweetly the drugs were affecting you. Your reaction was innocent and utterly charming, like something out of a dream.

"Yes," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity, "that cute guy really, really likes you." He knew exactly who you were talking about, and the thought made his chest swell with love.

Without a second thought, he leaned in even closer and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment as if to seal the words he had just spoken.

Your eyes widened again, the surprise and delight in them unmistakable. "That cute guy is kissing me!" you exclaimed, your voice rising with excitement, almost as if you couldn’t believe it was real.

Anakin smiled against your skin, pulling back just enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze. "And he’s never going to stop," he whispered, his eyes full of adoration as he looked at you, his heart full to bursting with love.

Doctor!Anakin who can’t help but give you medical advice, even for the smallest things. If you so much as sneeze, he’s ready with remedies, and if you’re hurt, he’ll drop everything to take care for you

Doctor!Anakin who finds solace in your presence. After particularly tough days, he seeks you out to decompress, finding comfort in your embrace and sharing the emotional burden of his job. He’s not afraid to show his vulnerable side with you, whether it’s admitting how hard a day was and etc

Doctor!Anakin whose bedside manner are impeccable (especially when you're sick). He’s attentive, gentle, and goes above and beyond to ensure your comfort

Doctor!Anakin who's favorite show was 'doctor house'

Doctor!Anakin who, even with hectic schedule, tries to prioritize your time and you alone. When he finishes work, he finishes work. It's time for you both. Yes, sometimes he has emergencies but mostly he tries to not pick up his phone when he's with you

Doctor!Anakin who's a coffee addict. He’s practically fueled by coffee, and you often tease him about his excessive consumption. Despite this, you always make sure there’s a fresh pot waiting for him at home after a long shift. Sometimes, you’ll surprise him at work with his favorite coffee order, just to brighten his day.

Doctor!Anakin who is a highly dedicated doctor, often working long shifts that leave him exhausted. He’s passionate about helping people, but it sometimes takes a toll on his mental and physical health. You’re the one who gently reminds him to take breaks, eat properly, and get enough sleep, even if it means dragging him away from the hospital when he forgets to put himself and his wellbeing first

Doctor!Anakin whose relationship with you is the one thing that softens his rough edges. Around you, he lets down his guard, showing a more vulnerable and affectionate side. Just being close to you, whether it’s lying in bed together in silence or holding your hand, helps him cope with the weight of his work.

Doctor!Anakin who knows how important it is to keep the romance alive, so even if it’s something simple like a homemade dinner or a late-night walk, he puts in the effort to make you feel special.

Doctor!Anakin who finds cooking therapeutic after a long day. You often come home to the smell of something delicious on the stove, with Anakin in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, and a content look on his face. He doesn't even know how hot he looks there

Doctor!Anakin who will send you quick texts during breaks—just to check in, see how your day is going, or tell you he loves you. It’s his way of staying connected, even when he can’t be there physically

Doctor!Anakin whose mornings are usually chaotic, especially when he’s on an early shift. You’ve developed a routine where you both navigate the morning rush together—he makes the coffee, you pack his lunch, and you share a quick breakfast before he heads out the door. Or sometimes, more often, when you're too lazy to do that, Anakin just wakes you up gently before leaving for work with small kisses and soft whispers

Doctor!Anakin who is such a worshipper of your body;

Anakin's lips trail over your skin with a reverence that borders a worship. Each kiss is slow, deliberate, as if he's memorizing the taste and texture of every inch of you "so soft..so beautiful.." he kept murmuring between gentle kisses.

He started with your collarbone, the kisses lingering on your delicate line, his breath warm against your skin. His large, overworked and hands gently cradle your sides, pulling you closer as his mouth moves lower, brushing over the curve of your breasts. "Gonna tell you everyday how beautiful you are so it'd stick to that little pretty head of yours"

His touch is precised, tender. His overworked yet skilled hands seem to know your body better than you do. He knows where to touch, how to touch.

He makes you responsive. breathless. loved.

His kisses are unhurried, simply savouring your lovely body in one go. His lips pressed against your stomach, to which your breath hitched and your fingers tugged at his short hair, as much as they could

Doctor!Anakin who doesn't mind some love making in shower

Doctor!Anakin who loves plants. He literally most of the time goes with you to local green marketplace, filled to the brim with different flowers, herbs or plants

Doctor!Anakin who easily gets bold in bed. So, he's a dom but rather a soft dom. And he always makes sure that not only he finishes but you especially, even before him

Doctor!Anakin who really doesn't mind you changing before him;

Anakin glanced over at you as you muttered a curse under your breath, mentioning your need to go to the bathroom. He could see the hesitation in your eyes, the way you were being a bit shy about it, and he couldn’t help but find it endearing. To him, your embarrassment was entirely unnecessary—he had seen you at your most vulnerable, more times than he could count, and it only deepened his affection for you.

"Just do it here," he said casually, his attention still mostly on the TV screen, though his tone was laced with genuine care.

"But—" you started, your voice trailing off as the embarrassment took over.

Anakin shifted his gaze back to you, his eyes locking onto yours with a reassuring warmth. He could see the flush of your cheeks, the slight uncertainty in your expression.

"Babe," he said softly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "I literally performed surgery on you. Trust me, seeing you change is the least of my concerns."

You bit your lip, still feeling a bit self-conscious. "Did it gross you out tho?" you mumbled with slightly pinky cheeks

He chuckled warmly at your question with a head shake "No, not at all. I’m a doctor—things like that don’t gross me out," he reassured you, his voice gentle yet amused. "Besides," he added with a playful glint in his eyes, "I see you naked almost daily. There’s nothing you could do that would make me think any less of you."

Doctor!Anakin who sometimes send you flowers to your workplace without much occasion

Doctor!Anakin who definitely knows how to finger you and make you a gasping mess

Doctor!Anakin who does not mind making you cry (during some love making of course). It just gives him the possibility to haunt you with 'crybaby' nickname

Doctor!Anakin who sometimes isn't there to satisfy your needs and you have to something else;

It was common for anakin to leave for some serious medics meeting in (or out of) town that lasted days. Each time, you felt yourself missing his strong arms around you, his warm body in bed, his soft words yet what you especially missed was those sleepless nights where nothing was more important for him than making you his all over again

So, without him near, you couldn't help but find something to satisfy your primal hunger and what was better than Anakin's pillow?

It felt embarrassing..it felt wrong..yet so good at the same time. With your imagination running wild, you humped on the soft material. Recreating the images of his beautiful face gazing as you ride him, you actually cursed the medical company that managed to took him away from you. Even for those three days

Your actions only brought moans and gasps from your parted lips. It's all you could hear and with your eyes closed, you haven't even acknowledged who appeared in the room

When Anakin took steps through the stairs up to your shared bedroom, the light betrayal and shock spun around his body to sank to his skin. At first he was sure he caught you cheating but that would be impossible - he thought - because his sweet girl would not let any other man touch her, right?

But when he quietly got inside the room, ready to caught you in the act, he was not prepared to see you riding his pillow, moaning out his name like a prayer

his expression was rather puzzled and he still tried to fully understand what's just happening when your eyes met. The embarrassed blush crept on your cheeks and tied your lips.

So that's how embarrassment feels like

“Don’t mind me, please, continue.” his words brought your embarrassment mix with confusion

But when you didn't do as he said, suddenly too shy and embarrassed, on the brink of tears for being found out, he lose his restraint and made his way to you. Taking the soaked pillow out from between your legs, he pushed your face down to the bed and made sure your hips stay in the air. “I didn’t expect my kind, sweet patient to be so dirty.” his eyes took a good look at your sex with a tired yet somehow pleased smile, “You should have told your doctor to help and wait for him to appear” the sound of unbuttoned belt rang in your ear. This was happening all so quickly. You haven't even had a chance to say anything, just submitting to him but still feeling so.. humiliated, awkward “And since I stopped you from helping yourself, I’ll take the responsibility to help you Miss y/l/n"

Doctor!Anakin who you sometimes surprised in his office during his lunch break and things can go wild..;

As you suck on him, his body arches off the chair, a low moan escaping his throat. His large hand tangling in your hair as he loses himself in the sensation of your mouth on his cock "That's it... oh fuck..." His hips start to move rhythmically, seeking more of you as his moans fill the air "just like that... suck on it baby..." He pants "Oh fuck... don't you dare stop.. didn't know I have such little warm throat to bruise.. shit--"

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[love-belle]

you're losing me !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which she's losing him and he's not fighting for her either.

or

for when you lose someone you thought you'd spend your lifetime with. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // max verstappen x fem!reader

sequel - i hope i never lose you ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - my heart broke while writing this :// still, i hope u like it!! lmk if u want a part ii though i'll write it anyway. i love you, thank you for reading <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, yourbestfriend, lilymhe and 2,628,926 others

yourusername when the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst

9,926 comments

username MOTHER?????

username max :///

username if they break up i simply give up, it's that easy x

lewishamilton sending you hugs and love from me and roscoe ❤️

-> yourusername missing you both ❤️

username guys............what if they did b word u word ?

-> username don't spread lies 😘😘😘

-> username they break up and i stop believing in love ☺️

lilymhe i could be a better boyfriend just saying 😮‍💨

-> yourusername you're already my wife 😘

username we really went from "the first flowers he ever brought me became my favourite" to "when the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst" huh

username im just gonna ignore this!!

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, charles_leclerc and 897,628 others

maxverstappen1 pole position!!

very happy that we managed to put the best bits together for qualifying today! great work by everyone in the team redbullracing & hondaracingglobal 👏

looking forward to be racing again tomorrow 👌

7,972 comments

username NO Y/N????????

username im delulu

username is it just me or did he not seem really into it like idk

-> username if me and my fiancée broke up i'd be the same

danielricciardo proud of you mate! 👏

username need y/n to comment rn so i can be at peace

username nice prank guys 😐😐 REALLY funny 😐😐😐

username NO BC THE WAY HE ALMOST MENTIONED Y/N WHILE TALKING TO A REPORTER BUT STOPPED HIMSELF

-> username NO BC MY HEART BROKE SEEING

-> username they're really over huh

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by f1_wags, formulaone.updates, maxverstappen111 and 78,926 others

f1newzzz formula one driver, max verstappen and singer/songwriter y/n y/l/n called it quits on their engagement, source close to the pair claimed. "they just wanted different things, their goals weren't aligning," the source explained, "marriage had seemed like the picture perfect ending at that time, when max had proposed, but in the long run, they both would've been very unhappy." though the exact reason for their split isn't very clear, many speculate that it was actually verstappen who ended their 11 month engagement. for more details, click on the link in our bio.

479 comments

username ur telling me that the woman who wrote "your past and mine are parallel lines, stars all aligned and they intertwined" about her man wanted "different things"??????? ok.

username max i just wanna talk ☺️☺️☺️

username no bc they were so in love everyone could see it

username she did not write "i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw u" for u to write this fucking shit post

username "she's been my rock, my biggest supporter, my proudest fan and im very grateful for her, forever will be. i don't deserve her and i don't know what good i did to have her in my life but im very glad i do" NO WAY HE BROKE UP WITH HER

username idk man if u write 3+ albums about someone and stuff like "all that u ever wanted from me was sweet nothing" or "all's well that ends well to end up with u" the universe should it impossible for u to break up

username just a daily reminder that u should drink rat poison before falling in love bc it never works out

username the day i stopped believing in love

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, lilymhe and 2,865,628 others

yourusername you're losing me is finally yours. this is easily the most vulnerable, heartbreaking, raw and personal song that i have ever written and sharing it with you all is like sharing a big piece of myself. you are, at some point in their life, at a place where you're begging someone to love you the way you love them and i think that's a saddest thing someone can do, i've been there. this song is a messy compilation of my feelings, my thoughts and the enigma in my mind, i hope you like it. and finally, to that one person, thank you for being my forever. it was real.

16,829 comments

username I WOULDN'T MARRY ME EITHER A PATHOLOGICAL PEOPLE PLEASER WHO ONLY WANTED YOU TO SEE HER

username the way we went from "i'd marry u with paper rings" to "i wouldn't marry me either"

username DO SOMETHING BABE SAY SOMETHING

danielricciardo in awe of you and your talent 🤍🤍🤍🤍

-> yourusername danny i heart you

username no bc what really hurts is that throughout her albums and songs she's always been like "i can't wait to marry you!!!!" like from lover and paper rings and now it's hinted that max didn't wanna marry her and the way she's trying not to blame him by saying "i wouldn't marry me either"

-> username "she would've made such a lovely bride what a shame she's fucked in her head" to "i wouldn't marry me either"

username the way that some people were saying that they got married secretly and the whole time they were broken up and she still continued to act like everything was fine like my heart's hurting for her

username "thank you for being my forever, it was real" IM CRYING IH NY GKD

carmenmmundt the most talented person i know 🤍 i love you so much y/n/n

-> yourusername you own my heart 💌

username the 1 is gonna start hitting different now

-> username "it would've been fun if u would've been the one"

username her heartbeat in the song i died.

username thinking about "he didn't try at all though" vs. "do something babe say something"

[plushish]

Adam with a reader who’s very witty and quick with comebacks?

just some silly pre-conference banter! | Adam x Reader

headcanon/drabble — how would Adam be like with a reader who is sharp-witted?

content & warnings — NSFW, fem reader, fem pronouns, fingering & cunnilingus, sexual act happening in a public place (workplace).

a/n — this takes place in some sort of office-setting, i dont know what goes on up there in heaven but i like to think its similar to what we've seen so far in hell, so i'm sure conferences aren't unheard of. i wasn't sure what format this idea should take, so it begins like a headcanon list but finishes up with a drabble. it's also rushed and i struggled with it a lot but. we ball!!!!!!

Adam considers himself to be a pretty funny guy, always dishing out 'sick burns' on others, but his pride gets hurt really easily. When it comes to a reader who can keep up with him in comebacks; he's definitely impressed by it, thinks it's hot as fuck, but he'd never openly admit it because it also a ignites a strong sense of competition in him.  

The tension between the two of you is uncomfortably palpable, how you twist him through every conversation and leave him to stammer like a fool just when he thinks he's bested you. Watching him seethe is endlessly entertaining to you, it brings you satisfaction, finding your own sense of pride in seeing that bad boy persona crack little by little.

The two of you will be going back-and-forth every time Sera calls for a conference, taking up half of the allotted time with your back-and-forths, and everyone graced with the luck to have been summoned there just wishes the two of you would fuck already so they didn't have to keep sitting through this.

But he secretly likes it, your flippancy towards his status and identity as First Man, how you're always so quick to shut down his sleazy remarks with an air of arrogance, going toe-to-toe with his own. Cute. 

Until one day, you finally give into him– He somehow manages to get you to fuck him, and for days after, his bragging around the office is incessant: "[Name] cries when she cums!", "Her orgasm face is just the cutest fuckin' thing, I mean could you imagine? Wait, actually don't, don't picture it–"

You start to get fed up, not only annoyed at his oversharing and his ceaseless bragging about things that simply weren't true, but because you hadn't even gotten to cum from the experience. Instead of confronting him, you had a plan in place that would get you what you wanted, so you instead opted to ignore the hushed whisperings around you all day.

...Until a little later, when you're in an empty conference room together, and he's sitting across the table from you. Licking the lid of his yogurt container with a smug look. Mimicking the disappointingly tepid treatment he'd given to you the night before.

"Should we... address what happened, [Name]?" He asks smugly, like it was a topic of business, leaning forward onto the table with his hands clasped together.

"No, I'm good." 

"Noooo?" Adam's voice is as sugary as the extra pumps of syrup he'd overloaded his coffee with this morning in the breakroom. You'd seen that diabetes-inducing horror as it happened. "Why not? I feel like it's something we should talk about."

"Why?" You ask simply. "It happened, and that's it."

That gets him a little annoyed. Confused, too; why weren't you playing along?

"Didn't mean a thing to you, then?"

"Nah."

"Oh please, [Name]," he scoffs. He’s getting offended at the thought now, his wings giving a small flap in indignance. He’s supposed to be the aloof one! You should be begging for it to happen again.

"Don't fuckin' play. My dick gave you the best fuck you've ever had and now you don’t know how to feel."

“The best? At putting me to sleep, maybe. I did get a good nap out of it afterward, so.”

To Adam, the only thing better than your negative attention is your positive attention, and the only thing worse than that is your indifference. He hates feeling desperate, but you bring him to that shameful peak.

“You were on my dick like you had a fuckin' crush,” Adam continues to ramble on, trying to find a weak spot. “Fucking me probably meant a lot to you, huh?” 

"I hump my pillow before bed and it means as much." 

"Your pillow can't plow you like I do."

"No, but at least it actually gets me to cum."

Adam’s dick twitches in his pants. You know exactly what you're doing. Those words, delivered with that cruel flippancy he loves and hates so much, are precisely tailored-- All to drive him over the edge. 

“Then maybe that was just a trial run,” He says after a long, fervent pause. "Maybe you need another taste."

You smirk a little, but only offer more disdain.

"No thanks, I've had enough to decide I'm no longer interested."

"Oh come on," He finally says. He's desperate at another chance now, he needs the validation of making you cum for his pride to be restored.

"Just give me one more shot?"

And so there you are, bottoms down, legs spread, Adam's fingers inside you, sitting on the edge of the table where a meeting is supposed to happen in about 25 minutes.

You're sopping wet. He drags a finger over your cunt before spreading it. "You're so cute, all blushing and shit. Makes me crazy hard."

"Your vocabulary is fucking terrible. Stop talking."

"You like it, though." He grins, teasingly lifting his fingers away from your aching cunt to show you your own wetness. You let out a small whine at the absence. "You sure you want me to stop?"

"Shut up, I said," You grab him by his hair and shove his mouth where you want it, aggressive and impatient. "-and start eating."

Normally Adam is not one to take demands like that. But in this position-- looking up at your stern face from between your legs--he obeys. He kisses at your cunt over and over, sweet little pecks like a first crush. The sensation makes your core tighten around nothing. Adam was not one to take his time; he was teasing you like this on purpose. You weren't having it.

And so pettily, you decide to say: "You can do better than that."

So naively, he does, he takes your dare and you're practically gushing all over the conference table by the time he gets in there and starts eating for real. Desperately suckling your clit between those smirking lips, that mouth that never fucking shuts up.

You cum with a satisfied sigh, as if you'd just had a good stretch rather than an orgasm on his face. He looks up at you expectantly, lips glistening with your aftertaste. Eyes wide and eager, waiting for the praise that is to come, only for you to lean in and whisper:

"Look who has a crush now."

a/n — pls forgive me for taking so long to answer this! i don't think it's exactly what you're looking for but i tried. it's more of an "adam with a reader who he has a sexually-charged, competitive work relationship with" type of deal. you just like to play with him and you know exactly how to make him desperate

[likedovesinthewindd]

pookie!!! saw u are taking saltburn requests!!!!

thoughts on farleigh + reader with the same amount of snark as him?? like initially not being able to STOMACH each other & biting each other’s heads over (both ignoring felix’s groaned requests to “keep the peace”) and then being like…. wait why r u….kinda……

just that back and forth banter would be so good with him + ur WRITING!!! big smooches mwah

ugghh your mind!! love this and love you, sending smooches back ×100 !!! (fem!reader, wc: ±1700)

"I don't understand what's wrong?" you asked, briefly looking over your essay again before sparing your tutor a confused glance, waiting for his input instead. "There's nothing wrong with it," Farleigh's voice only deepened your frown, "It's just a little... loose."

"Loose?"

"Yeah, loose. You don't have a really strong argument," he continued, head resting in his palm as he peered at you from where he sat on the couch. "I'm sorry, but I don't agree with you. My argument is quite coherent right throughout," you said. "Maybe, but is it convincing?" he said, small smile on his lips that made your blood boil.

"Okay," you sighed softly, "How about your essay, Farleigh?" you asked, internally reveling at the way his cocky smile faltered. "I'm working on it," he huffed after a short pause. "Well until then, keep your comments to yourself."

"I was just trying to help," he retorted.

"Oh, screw you."

"Alright, I think we can end tonight's session early. Give you some time to finish up," your lecturer interrupts. "And give you, mister Start, time to actually begin?" he gives Farleigh a pointed look.

You hastily packed your things away before wordlessly making your way out. Your poor tutor must've been used to the two of yours constant arguing by now, seeing as that was how many of your sessions ended. You never saw eye to eye and the banter was stupid most of the time, but Farleigh had a way of getting under your skin like no one else could.

You were beginning to think he had some sort of personal vendetta against you, even though you really couldn't think of ways that you've wronged him in the past that deserved that sort of behavior. He loved embarrassing you, and as many times as you've tried to be the better person, you just couldn't help from slipping your own little comments, satisfaction only really gained when you managed to wipe the smug smile from his face.

Farleigh had completely spoiled your mood, and you figured the best way to forget about your day would be to go out for a few drinks. You definitely felt like a loser going to the pub alone but you wouldn't have been great company anyway. You however, very quickly regretted your decision when you saw the very source of your foul mood sitting by one of the tables causing a commotion as he often did. Felix saw him before he did, excitedly calling out to you and asking you to join them.

Farleigh wasn't as excited as the rest of the table at your presence, but you refused to let him ruin your night.

"Funny seeing you outside." Farleigh said, ashing his cigarette in the ashtay in the middle of the full table. "Why would it be funny?" you asked. He pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows. "You're just such a homebody, hardly see you anywhere," he said. "But it's probably for the best, right?" he added, and you already sensed a verbal lashings following. "You'll need all the extra study time if you're gonna keep up."

"Farleigh," Felix silently scolded, but by now your heart was already beating in your ears, irritation setting deep inside your chest and making you feel hot with rage.

You bit the inside of your cheek. "You always seem to forget that you got into Oxford on favors," you said, watching the way the corner of his mouth twitched, facade still holding strong. "I'm not the one partying my life away. If anyone needs extra study time, it's you." In retrospect, it probably was a low blow, but the ethical line was hardly visible when it came to Farleigh.

The silence at the table was all consuming, and Felix, like the godsend he was, decided to speak up and end the wordless staring competition between the two of you. "Okay, uhm, shots. We need shots," he said, everyone quickly agreeing with him. "C'mon Farleigh, come help me," he said, practically dragging the boy along with him.

From there it only got worse the more time the two of you spent together, which was quite frequently because you ran in the same circles. You were friends by chance, only really connected through Felix, who you've known for years. Your mothers were friends, and the two of you quickly became close through her visits to their sprawling estate, often dragging you along. You've met Farleigh through Felix, and though it was evident the two of you didn't get along, Felix was still determined to try and make it work.

₊˚⊹

You were beyond relieved to be able to spend the summer away from uni and get a chance to breathe again without any academic stress. You had planned to visit your mother back home until Felix had asked you to come to Saltburn to spend the summer with them instead.

"C'mon," he tried, "Venetia will be so happy to see you again. And mum." You bit the inside of your cheek, contemplating his offer carefully. It wasn't an extremely difficult decision; the days at Saltburn served as some of the best memories you've ever made.

You certainly didn't regret accepting his offer either. The last few weeks have been amazing at the grand estate, exciting and overwhelming in the best way. It would've, however, been much better if Farleigh wasn't looming over you like a dark cloud. You genuinely tried to keep the peace, but he knew exactly how to aggravate you. You could see it was beginning to irritate everyone around you, especially Felix.

"Will this work for tonight?" you asked, smoothing your hand over the soft material of the dress. It was so easy to run out of appropriate attire when you had to give your best every night at Saltburn. Tonight was special, and although you weren't specially dressing up for the Henry's, you still didn't want to embarrass Elsbeth by being underdressed.

Venetia was lounging in the bed while you paced around the room. "You've already worn that dress," she said, making you huff. "I know," you whispered. "We can get something from my closet," she said as she stood up from the bed and made her way to you. "Or we can ask mum. Don't worry," she added with a smile.

₊˚⊹

The dinner was kind of dull, the Henry to your left not nearly as entertaining as the one to Venetia's left judging by the quick glances she spared you every time one of his jokes fell flat. Every now and then, your attention would sneak over to Farleigh; a pensive look thredded between his furrowed brows when his eyes caught yours.

The highlight of your night was definitely after dinner, when sir Catton had suggested karaoke. You were quite amused by Henry's rendition as the lot of you watched as the man made a fool of himself. Farleigh took a seat next to you on the couch, sparing you a smile.

"You clean up nicely," he smiled, sparing a look down at your dress, the sparkly material reflecting the warm light from the fire. His hand ghosted over the necklace around your neck, fingers tracing over the small pendant. You prayed that he didn't notice the way your breath caught in your throat at the little bit of contact.

"Thanks," you answered, smoothing a hand over the lapel of his suit jacket. "You don't look too bad yourself." He only scoffed, eyes now focused on your hand as it retracted from his chest. You didn't spare him another look, attention refocusing on Henry's recital.

The whole affair was getting boring, and before you knew it, your thoughts were back to Farleigh, a question on your mind that you've been burning to ask him. "Can I ask you a question?" you turned, asking before you lost your confidence. He raised his eyebrow in interest, urging you to continue. "Why do you hate me?" you asked. The question caught him off guard, rendering him speechless for the first time since you've known him.

"I don't," he started before scoffing, "I don't hate you." You pursed your lips, shaking your head in disagreement. "You do. At least you act like you do." He only smiled, shuffling closer on the couch, face impossibly closer to yours as he gave you a once-over.

Even though the topic was quite loaded, it was ironically the calmest conversation the two of you have had in a long time. It was reminiscent of the time the two of you were younger and still getting to know each other. Somewhere along the line, something shifted, and he started treating you like shit. You only returned the favor.

"You weren't always this mean either," you added. His eyes still examined the expanse of your face; trailing down the slope of your nose and into the dip of your cupids bow. His attention made you feel self-conscious in a way, tongue poking out to wet your lips.

You had no reason to even feel self-conscious, but Farleigh had a special talent for making you feel small in his presence. Somewhere beneath the irritation and resentment hid a feeling that made warmth settle deep in your belly everytime you saw him. It's a feeling you only gave yourself the luxury of experiencing in the dead of the night when your thoughts were all that kept you awake. The overbearing anger would subside and then that funny feeling would settle over your body and deep inside your chest in a near painful way.

You never called it by it's name, too scared that if you did it would manifest itself and become reality. But now as the two of you sat on the couch, the cheering and singing fading into background noise as a pair of deep brown eyes stared into yours, you finally had to courage to admit it to yourself.

"I don't hate you," he repeated one more time, voice slightly breathless and a sullen look on his face. "On the contrary, actually." That made you laugh almost too loudly. "So what," you scoffed, "you act like a teenage boy and pick on me because you had a crush on me?"

He shrugged, the motion causing the refined material of his suit to rub against your arm. "Maybe I just wanted your attention," he smiled, placing a brief kiss to your cheek before briskly getting up from the couch to cut Henry's musical number short. You uncleanched your balled fists that were bunching up the expensive material of your dress, the tension leaving your body with a sigh once Farleigh's words register.

[inurnctdreams]

00:00 - l.dh

idol!haechan x gn!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, drabble

warnings: swearing, suggestive, mentions of sex, pet names (baby, hyuckie)

wc: 0.7k

“happy birthday dear hyuckie, happy birthday to you!”

“hi baby, thank you.” donghyuck’s voice is quiet and slightly raspy. nothing you haven’t heard multiple times before, but not what you’d expected when you’d called your boyfriend at exactly midnight in his current time zone.

“did… did i wake you up?” you frown, and your voice must betray your disbelief if his cute little chuckles over the line are anything to go by.

“maybe, i fell asleep like twenty minutes after i ate dinner.”

“were the guys not with you?” you pout. you’d at least taken some comfort in the fact that he’s surrounded by the rest of the dreamies for the start of his birthday if you can’t be there.

“they’re here.” he says. “our intention was to stay up.”

“and you all fell asleep? that’s actually really fucking funny.” you can’t help the giggles that escape you at the thought of all seven of them crowding in one hotel room to see donghyuck’s birthday in, only to not make it to midnight.

“yeah, i guess we were all pretty tired.”

“wait, does that mean i still got to be the first person to say it?!” you say excitedly. it’s not yet his birthday where you are, but you’d be damned if you were gonna let a silly thing like time zones come between you and making sure your boyfriend started off his day showered in love, albeit virtual.

“uh-huh.” he smiles, leaving out the fact that he’d been planning on answering your call before anyone else could wish him happy birthday anyway. you’d been so cutely adamant that distance wouldn’t stop you from being the first. “i miss you so much.” you almost don’t hear the whisper. if you didn’t know him so well, you’d chalk the voice crack up to him only just waking up.

“i miss you too, baby. twenty-one hours.” you let yourselves sit with the bittersweet feeling for a moment. tears begin to form in your own eyes but you blink them away. “i cannot wait to give you your presents, i think i’ve outdone myself this year!”

“all i need is you.” he elongates the vowels in ‘you’, trying to match your cheery tone.

“ew, stop being so greasy! plus, you love presents and i’m still mad my master plan to have them sent to you was ruined.”

“management did have a point about the shipping time issues, plus this way you can see me open them properly.” he reasons. “i can’t wait to hug you again.”

“just hug me?” you smirk.

“this was supposed to be a cute, innocent birthday call, not phone sex!” he gasps dramatically, sending you both into another fit of giggles.

“okay, okay.” you relent. “i guess the whole point of birthday sex is to do it in person.”

“tease.”

“we did not need to hear that.” another voice chimes in, clearly muffled and far away.

“why are you even on the phone so late?” mark questions, sounding closer than jaemin had. “oh shit dude, happy birthday!”

“is it already midnight?” jisung’s voice is muffled, and then you hear rustling and yells for the other boys to wake up.

“i’ll let you go, have fun with the boys!” you smile.

“no!” hyuck immediately whines.

“it’s okay baby, have a good morning and let me know when you’re boarding and landing, yeah?”

“fine.” he sighs, and you can hear the pout in his voice. the mental image of him, bedhead and traces of sleep, has you mourning the fact that you can’t squish his cheeks or kiss his forehead. yet, you remind yourself. “i’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you as soon as i get back.”

“i’m holding you to that.” you smile, ignoring the fake gagging sounds in the background.

“get some rest too, i know you have work in the morning.”

“i’ll try.” you knew it would be difficult to settle your restless brain but he was right, you did have work, plus the stuff you’d planned for when he got home that you had managed to keep a surprise. “happy birthday, hyuckie. i love you.”

“i love you too.” you glance down at your phone when the call ends.

twenty-one hours.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

the way we fight

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and joel love taking your frustrations out on each other—in more ways than one

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, drug use, canon-typical violence, slight spoilers for minor tlou 2 cutscene, jackson era, enemies to lovers, undefined age gap, sloooow buildup, smut, grinding, rough oral (male & female receiving)

word count: 6.7k

a/n: no idea how this got so long, but here we are! generally my fics are based on song lyrics, so this one goes out to my girl ari and social house. this honestly took a while to wrap my brain around and idk how the end got so filthy but alas, i really hope y'all enjoy! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated 💕

It’s always an argument with him. He’s just so stubborn. Actually, Joel Miller might be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. There’s never any room for disagreement or discussion with him—it’s his way or the highway. Half the time, you don’t even know what you’re fighting about, hurling callous, empty words at each other as if they don’t hurt. Immensely.

Maybe you really do genuinely hate each other. Or maybe it’s just for the fun of it.

It’s been like this for as long as you’ve known him, which, in hindsight, hasn’t even been that long. Probably a year? Year and a half? In all that time, you’ve never managed to crack his tough exterior and, as far as you know, no one else has, either.

The only things anyone knows for sure are that he’s Tommy Miller’s older brother and he’s got a daughter named Ellie. He hasn’t made a lot of friends here and it’s not hard to see why. He’s mean in a surly old man kind of way and rarely has anything nice to say to anyone—if he says anything at all.

Yet, somehow you still find yourself spending the majority of your time with him. It’s not something you do by choice. It’s a forced proximity thing.

You can’t tell if Tommy schedules you for patrols together because you’re the only one who hasn’t kicked up a stink about it or if he just thinks it’s funny to watch you both squirm. Most of the town thinks it’s hilarious, so you can only guess it’s the latter.

During your first few outings together, Joel wouldn’t talk to you unless it was absolutely necessary, and, even then, all you’d get was a grunt or some grumbled instructions. The silence got old pretty quickly. It wasn’t until you made your first mistake out in the field that he finally started communicating. Maybe a little louder than you’d hoped.

Now, Joel will pick a fight anywhere, usually over the dumbest shit. But his bark is worse than his bite—most of the time, at least.

On his worst days, his anger is explosive and it seems like he takes it out exclusively on you. It’s honestly a little ridiculous that you haven’t just asked Tommy to take you off his patrols already, but there’s a part of you that’ll never admit you actually kind of like your dynamic.

Not a lot happens in Jackson—it’s well-protected and even the community drama gets a little stale. Joel might be a dick, but he keeps things interesting, keeps you on your toes.

And it’s hard to ignore the fire in his eyes that makes you think he likes it just as much as you do.

It’s fucking freezing out and you haven’t even left for patrol yet before Joel’s muttering something condescending under his breath. Surprise, surprise—he’s in a bad mood and about to make it your problem. You throw him an unimpressed look over your shoulder, the best you can muster this early in the morning, and continue to saddle your horse.

“You wanna say that a little louder, Miller?”

He looks tired and annoyed and, god, you haven’t been awake nearly long enough for this shit. Today’s going to be trying enough as it is. You were assigned one of the longer routes and the clouds are already dark with the promise of rain or worse.

There are a few other patrol groups nearby gearing up to leave and their preparations suddenly slow, eyes darting between the two of you as if they can sense the impending argument. You barely notice their loitering, the small crowd inching forward to not-so-subtly eavesdrop.

“No, really, I’d love to hear to hear what you have to say,” you taunt him, hands settling on your hips. “Y’know, it’s really not like you to keep things to yourself. You sure you’re feeling alright today, old man?”

“Feelin’ just fine, sweetheart,” he grits through his teeth, rolling his eyes. “Just hurry your ass up so we can get this over and done with. I’m not tryin’ to spend any more time with ya than I have to.”

You quirk an eyebrow. Sweetheart? That’s a new one. It sounded sarcastic as hell and a little patronizing but, still, that’s not something Joel’s ever called you before. Useless and annoying, sure, but never sweetheart.

Your stomach swoops, but you force yourself to ignore it; that’s not even remotely something you want to analyze today.

“Uh, yeah…whatever,” you eye him strangely, and he abruptly looks away, shifting his focus back to checking his saddlebags. It’s like he’s purposefully avoiding your gaze, and it’s weird. He’s acting so fucking weird today.

Sparing him one last glance, you throw a leg over your horse and start toward the gate at a slow trot. You don’t bother waiting for him to catch up.

“What’s our first checkpoint?” you call over your shoulder, but he’s somehow already right behind you, his horse falling in line with yours.

“You should already know that,” Joel sighs, brow furrowed in what you can only assume is irritation. Oh, here it comes—the inevitable lecture. He does this every single time you're on patrol, whether you’ve done something wrong or not. You must’ve really pissed him off if you’re hearing it this early.

Except—he’s not berating you. Instead, he pulls a map out of his backpack. “Alright, look,” he says, leaning in closer so you can see. “This is us right here, and—,” his index finger traces a route from Jackson, winding along a road that passes through a small neighborhood, and lands on your first stop, located a few side streets off a main road, “—we should end up here in about an hour if the weather holds up.”

Nodding, you look up at him. You hadn't realized how close his face had gotten to yours, and your lips part around an involuntary gasp. His eyes drop to your mouth for a second too long before he pulls away, folding up his map and tucking it back into his pack.

You try to convince yourself that you imagined it, that Joel Miller would never intentionally look at your lips like he wants to kiss you, but you can still feel his warm breath on your skin and it’s affecting you more than you want to admit.

This is…not at all like your normal dynamic and it’s throwing you off. Joel hasn’t raised his voice once today and, at most, he’s only made a few snide remarks that weren’t nearly as bad as they usually are.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you breathe out, creating a tiny puff of condensation in the air. “It doesn’t even feel like it's cold enough to snow, anyway. The worst we’ll probably get is some rain and we’ve ridden in way worse than that.”

All you get in response is a low grunt, and then he’s lifting the reins, leading his horse in the direction of your first checkpoint. You sigh. Guess you’re back to square one. You never thought you’d miss your spats, and can’t help but wonder what the hell happened to make him change his behavior so radically.

“Seriously, though, are you okay? You’re, like, really quiet today,” you prod, and his whole body tenses. He turns to you, expression angry, and it sends a shiver down your spine. There he is.

“Didn’t I already fuckin’ tell you I’m fine? What, you suddenly lose the ability to hear or somethin’?” He shakes his head in annoyance, and you’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore because you can’t suppress the grin that spreads across your face.

“This girl, I swear,” you hear him mutter as he trots away.

You don’t say anything to each other for the rest of the ride to the checkpoint. The crumbling attorney's office is basically the same as you remember from the last time you were here. It’s old, obviously, and musty, but it’s stocked with random provisions, like food and ammo, so patrol crews can replenish their supplies before heading out to their next destination.

There’s also a killer view of Jackson from one of the windows, and you get distracted looking out at the lights and mountains in the distance. It’s starting to flurry, so you drop your backpack on the floor and stick both hands out to catch some of the snowflakes in your palms. So much for rain.

“You dilly dallyin’ again? Just sign the logbook already so we can move the fuck on,” Joel’s voice startles you out of your reverie. Huffing, you turn away from the window, looking for the pen that’s supposed to be next to the notebook, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“You know what, asshole, you could’ve just as easily signed the damn thing yourself. You were there too, or are you getting forgetful in your old age?” you shoot back as you hunch down, getting on your hands and knees to search under the desk. You hear him scoff behind you.

You spot the pen towards the back, because of course it rolled that far, and bend down so you can reach out a little farther. Your fingers brush one end and then you’ve got it, sitting back up with your prize in hand. Looking over your shoulder, you just barely catch Joel’s eyes darting away from where you were a moment ago, basically puppy-posing on the floor. That’s…suspicious.

“The fuck? Were you just staring at my ass?” you ask incredulously. There’s no goddamn way. He snorts, arms crossed with an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“You wish, sweetheart,” he says condescendingly, and there it is again. That fucking word. So, he’s calling you pet names and staring at your ass now? There’s something seriously off about him today and you want to know what his deal is.

“You wanna tell me why you keep calling me that? You’ve been acting weird as fuck all day and it’s giving me whiplash,” you glower at him, taking a seat at the edge of the desk and forgetting all about the logbook. He shrugs.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he says simply, and you squint at him.

“Seriously, Joel? You've called me sweetheart twice today and now you’re checking me out,” you hop off the desk and walk over to where he’s leaning against the wall. “If I didn’t know any better…,” you glance down at his lips, moving closer, “I’d say you were flirting with me."

Well, that made him angry. "Fuck you,” he growls in your face, and his lips are soft where they accidentally graze your cupid's bow. He’s trembling now, fists clenched at his sides, and you think he’s about to push you away when he grabs you by the hips and shoves you against the wall. Your head lolls back and you laugh cruelly.

“Yeah, Joel,” you roll your hips into his and he grits his teeth, tightening his grip. “I think that’s exactly what you wanna do.”

But before you can go any further, there’s a crash just outside the door accompanied by a familiar sound that turns your blood to ice.

It’s unmistakable. The clicking, guttural and stuttered, is followed by a high-pitched shriek that echoes throughout the small space, and you both freeze. You look up at Joel, terrified, and he raises a finger to his lips, eyes telling you to be quiet or else.

There’s no way either of you can unholster your guns—and reload, in your case—without alerting it to your position. Joel reaches for the hunting knife strapped to his thigh, and you move to do the same, only to realize it isn't there.

Fuck, it has to be somewhere. Probably in one of the dozen random holsters you have attached to you right now.

Frantic, you pat at your sides and legs—anywhere it could be—as your panicked intakes of breath gradually increase in volume. A hand slaps over your mouth, and suddenly Joel is crushing your body against the wall, halting your movements.

"Quit," he whispers harshly, lips brushing the shell of your ear, and you nod quickly.

The creature abruptly changes course, jerking toward the open window, and that’s when you notice something familiar by its feet. It's—fuck, it's your backpack. And your knife is gleaming from where it sits, nestled in one of the side pockets.

Stupid, that was so stupid. If, by some miracle, this thing doesn't kill you, there’s no doubt Joel will once he realizes your mistake. His hand drops from your mouth and he glances back over his shoulder at the clicker, gripping his knife a little tighter.

He looks resolute, and it dawns on you that he’s about to make a move. It takes everything you’ve got not to grab onto his coat and pull him back to you as he slowly shifts away, but then something else stops him in his tracks.

Another screech rings out from the other side of the room, and now you know you’re fucked. There’s only one option left now. Either you run, or you get torn apart. He reaches down to take your hand in his, warring emotions of anger and fear in his eyes as he looks into yours, and squeezes; it’s now or never.

The path to the doorway you came through is somehow miraculously clear, and Joel takes off at a sprint, dragging you with him but, to his horror, you decide to do yet another stupid thing.

For reasons you can’t explain, you find yourself ripping your hand out of his, swerving to snatch your backpack from where it lies just a few feet from the clicker.

Joel is yelling, or at least you think he is, and you vaguely feel his blunt nails scratch the back of your hand as he reaches out to stop you, but he can’t. You’re moving on autopilot, can barely register your body moving at all, until your fingertips skim the strap of your pack and the clicker is shrieking in your face.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to one before, even dead, and it’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined. The world freezes for a moment and you freeze with it, unable to move or look away from the fungus erupting from its skull, teeth gnashing inches away from your throat.

And then you feel warmth—warm, strong arms wrap around your waist and tug harder and harder until you’re back out in the cold. Joel spots his horse a short distance away, likely spooked by the commotion, but you can’t see much farther than that. What was a gentle flurry less than a half hour ago has become a violent blizzard, and you’re both getting pelted by ice that burns as it scrapes across your skin.

There’s one horse—just Joel’s horse—but there’s no time to think about the fate of your own before his hands are on your hips, lifting you up and into the saddle, and he’s climbing on in front of you.

He urges his horse forward and you’re off without so much as a glance behind you, galloping away from danger and down a street that you realize you actually recognize.

“Joel,” you squeeze his waist and he ignores you. He’s shaking and it’s definitely not just from the cold. You can feel the anger radiating off of him in waves and it’s warranted. You fucked up big time. “Joel, turn right,” you say a little louder, and he’s still not listening. “Turn right! There’s a library up ahead, you have to turn now!”

He growls, and you think he’s purposely going to miss the turn until he’s yanking the reins to the right, nearly throwing you both off the horse.

“You better know what the fuck you’re doin’,” he all but shouts back, and you wrap your arms around his waist a little tighter.

“It’s safe!” you yell, struggling to speak loud enough for him to hear you over the wind. “Ellie’s been there before, loads of times, and she says it’s safe. “

And that’s all it takes to convince him.

The library’s completely boarded up and, with the wind howling against your backs, it takes more than a few hard tugs to yank enough of them off to get inside the lobby with Joel’s horse.

He hands you the reins before moving into the next room, crouching along the rows of aging books and knocked-over bookcases, and you peek in, watching him anxiously. Cracked bricks litter the ground, and he steps over a few as he crouches into place behind a broken book cart.

He picks one up and then shoots you a look, eyebrows lifting pointedly, and you realize he wants you to get back into the lobby, out of sight. You duck behind the wall, placing a soothing hand on his horse right as you hear the sound of the brick shattering against the ground, and wait. A few agonizing seconds pass before you hear him throw one more a little farther out, just to be sure.

When nothing startles or jumps out, Joel whistles and you know that’s your cue to come out from your hiding spot. Normally, that would piss you off immensely, him whistling for you like you’re a fucking animal, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.

You’re exhausted now that the adrenaline’s wearing off, and the only thing you want to do is curl up into one of the torn-up chairs in the corner and pass out until morning. But that’s not what Joel has in mind.

“Y’think you’re off the hook for the shit you pulled earlier?”

You sigh, head tipping back and thumping against the bookcase behind you. “Do we have to do this right now? Joel, I’m tired and hungry, and fucking cold, and I really don’t have the energy.”

“Seriously? Sure looked like ya had the energy when you were runnin’ straight into that clicker’s mouth,” he scowls, reaching down to grab something next to the book cart and throwing it at your feet. “Thought ya might want this back since you apparently decided it was worth more than your life.”

You inhale sharply through your nose, eyebrows pinching together. Joel…he—

It's your backpack.

You were so sure it got left behind when he saved you from that clicker and yet, there it is. You lean over to pick it up, but Joel kicks it out of reach before you get the chance. He looks livid and now, you realize, you’re about to get that lecture you dodged earlier tenfold.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Me? I'm not the one having an identity crisis! You’ve been nothing but distracting all damn day,” you scoff bitterly. “None of this would've happened if you hadn't had a complete personality makeover overnight.”

You can’t believe he…is he serious? There’s no way you’re taking the fall for this, not all of it. Yeah, you fucked up with the backpack, but Joel isn't entirely blameless, either. If you hadn’t been fighting again, you would’ve just signed the stupid logbook and moved on like you were supposed to.

"Yeah, alright, sweetheart. It's my fault you almost got us both killed. Maybe you’re forgettin’ I saved your goddamn life back there, somethin' I wouldn't have had to do if you hadn't gone and done something so fuckin’ stupid."

Sweetheart.

"Stop calling me that! I…fuck, Joel, I just don't get you. I get it—I know I fucked up, but…,” your voice cracks and you can feel your lower lip wobbling, but you can’t let yourself cry. That would only prove to Joel what he already knows—you’re weak. “I’m sorry, okay? What more do you want from me?”

He chuckles mirthlessly. “You really wanna know what I want from ya?” He crowds your space, leaning in slightly. His head tilts like he's going to kiss you, and your breath hitches. “I want ya to get your shit together and stop makin’ unnecessary mistakes,” he says cruelly instead.

Your jaw drops.

"No, you know what? Fuck this,” you seethe. “When we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to never put me on your patrols again. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Think I give a shit about that? Go ahead, you’d be doin’ me a favor!” he yells at your back as you storm away, and you flip him off over your shoulder. Behind you, he sighs heavily, sounding as worn out and frustrated as you feel.

What a load of bullshit. You don't deserve to be treated like this. There's a stark difference between the inconsequential arguments you normally have and whatever the hell that was.

And the worst part? It hurts so much more than you expected it to. Leave it to you to get attached to the asshole whose personal mission it is to make you miserable. This whole thing was fun while it lasted, but you meant what you said. You and Joel, it’s over.

You exhale wetly, tears still threatening to fall as you leave him behind in what the yellowing signs tell you is the romance section. Well, isn’t that ironic.

You quickly realize navigating the library in the dark is more difficult than you anticipated, even with your flashlight. Not even ten steps away from where you started, you trip over something protruding from the ground and almost land flat on your face.

Joel comes running over as you let out a frustrated noise and push yourself up onto your knees. His knife is at the ready like he was expecting danger but, no, it’s just you humiliating yourself even further. He lets out a relieved sigh, holstering his knife, but then just stands there glaring down at you.

“I’m fine, by the way,” you wave a hand from the ground. He shakes his head, reaching down to help you up, and his hand feels so nice in yours—big, strong, and calloused.

You curse yourself for still thinking about him like that, like anything at all, but you can't help it. And when his hand drops yours, it feels distinctly cold and empty.

Shaking it off, you aim your flashlight at the offending spot on the floor. “What is that, anyway?” you ask Joel as he crouches down to brush away some of the dirt and debris.

“A handle,” he mumbles, pulling out his knife again and digging it into a crack in the floor, tracing around what looks like…a door?

“Is that a trapdoor?” You lean over his shoulder to get a better look. He looks back at you and nods, looking a little less angry and a lot more concerned. “Well, should we check it out?”

Instead of answering you, he wrenches the door open and shines his flashlight into the opening. There’s a ladder leading down and you can hear something rumbling below that sounds like a generator.

“Stay here,” he eyes you sternly as he begins his descent down the ladder.

“Uh, yeah, that’s not happening,” you scoff, following him. The ladder’s longer than you expected, and once your feet touch the ground, you reach out to run your hands along the wall, searching for a light switch.

A few moments later, your fingers come across something vaguely switch-like and you flip it, a warm glow filling the room, emanating from about a dozen heat lamps hanging from the ceiling. Your eyes adjust and—

“No fucking way.”

Joel is silent beside you, and you glance over, his expression just as stunned as yours is. You step closer. “Is that…?”

“Weed,” he breathes out.

You didn’t mean to get this high. Really, you didn’t. But you're in a fucking grow room hidden beneath a library in some tiny, backwater town, and you almost just died. So really, what reason was there not to?

The blizzard’s still going strong outside and, at the very least, it’s nice and warm down here. There's also the added bonus of something fun to do while you wait it out.

…Yeahhh, so you might’ve found a mason jar full of already rolled joints between some couch cushions, literally just sitting there for the taking. What were you supposed to do? Not smoke them?

But what surprises you even more than the pot itself is that Joel is smoking it, too.

It’s cute how he coughs after every drag, eyes watering as you pass a joint back and forth. The air is thick with smoke and a strange tension that neither of you can really describe, but you’re not fighting anymore. Not yet, at least.

The couch you're sitting on is cozy and less tattered than the chairs upstairs, so you settle there for the night, sitting closer than you ever willingly have before. Enough time has passed that you’re beginning to realize neither of you plans on moving, either. That you’re actually enjoying each other’s company.

The warmth of him seeps pleasantly through your clothes, and he feels so solid and real against you. Unconsciously, you melt into his side, your fuzzy brain chemicals urging you to feel more, more of him, and he tenses only for a moment before lifting an arm to rest behind you on the back of the couch.

It's strange how readily he's accepting your touch now. With each drag, you feel a little braver and press more of your body into his, draping your legs across his lap and nesting your head in the crook of his neck. He goes boneless when you mouth damply at the skin just below his jaw, his throat rumbling under your lips as he lets out a ragged breath.

You’ve both loosened up so much since earlier. It’s an easy, comfortable sort of peace you’ve found down here, even after the horrors you experienced earlier in the day. Part of you wishes it could always be like this with Joel but, then again, that just wouldn’t be you and Joel.

Your relationship thrives on the way you fight, almost like you can’t exist together without the promise of battle. So, when the high wears off and the world feels less lazy and more dire, you’ll both remember with sharp clarity that you hate each other. The memories will fade away and the war will continue. That’s just how it is.

It’s a little sad when you think about it, but for at least a little while longer, you’ll still have this version of you and Joel. You’ll enjoy the way he feels pressed up against your body; the way he feels pliant and suggestible under your lips.

And you’ll ask the question that’s been eating away at you all day because right now, you’re positive your lips can convince him to do anything.

“Tell me why you keep calling me sweetheart,” you murmur against his skin. He freezes, clearly not expecting you to bring it up again. You lift the blunt to his lips and encourage him to inhale to calm his nerves. The smoke plumes from his nose like a dragon as he exhales, and you're enraptured by the way it swirls through the air before dissipating. He braces a hand on your thigh before responding.

"Well, I…uh—," he mumbles, his cheeks turning a deep shade of burgundy, and you can’t resist reaching out to stroke the heated skin with your fingertips. He breathes shakily as he continues, "I—had a dream about ya last night, and…you, uh—you were…"

He cuts himself off, and your mind goes fuzzy for a moment as you let that little bit of information sink in. So, Joel was dreaming about you last night…and now, he’s treating you so much differently. Calling you pet names, eyeing you up, touching you. It all makes sense—but now you need him to tell you everything.

"What was I doing in your dream, Joel?"

He meets your gaze, looking flustered and a little ashamed, and it's a far cry from the man who was yelling at you not even an hour or two ago.

"You, uh," he clears his throat, still hesitating. You bite your bottom lip in anticipation, sucking it wetly into your mouth, and his eyes darken. He lifts a thumb to your mouth, tugging your lip down just slightly, and you can see the moment his apprehension disappears. "You were on your knees for me," he murmurs. "Doin' such a good job, too, workin' that pretty mouth of yours."

You inhale sharply and his thumb drops, but his eyes never leave your lips. Gingerly, you pluck the joint still burning between his fingers and take one last deep drag before flicking the rest to the side and crashing your lips onto his.

God, they feel exactly like you thought they would, soft and a little chapped from the cold, but so fucking eager against yours. You hold his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along the roughness of his beard, and he groans as you exhale into his mouth, tasting the smoke on your tongue.

Sighing, you lean back slowly, heavy-lidded eyes roving over his face to take in his kiss-swollen lips and that beautiful burgundy flush. He's so pretty, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his thick, graying hair as he pants heavily below you.

You need to feel more of him, all of him, so you climb into his lap, straddling his hips and grinding down against where he's already straining in his pants. He grips you tighter in response, working you steadily across his hardening cock.

"Keep going,” you moan breathily. You're already so wet, and heat blooms in your belly every time your clit grazes the seam of his jeans. It's a foggy, hazy pleasure, what you feel when he speaks, and you're addicted to it. “Keep telling me about your dream—a-about my mouth…I wanna hear more.“

You feel rather than hear him growl low in his throat as he ducks his head down to your neck, sucking and biting bruises into your skin.

“Your mouth…so fuckin’ wet—s-soft and tight around my cock,” he sucks hard under your jaw, and you gasp. “Takin’ me all the way down, like I always knew you could.”

Your breath hitches, eyes rolling back. The thought of him dreaming about his cock down your throat makes your cunt pulse, and now you're positive you're soaking through his pants.

You bet he thinks about it when you're on patrol together, too—that when you're fighting like you've both got something to prove, he's thinking about shutting you up with his cock. Fucking your mouth to show you that what he says goes.

"M-more, Joel…ngh, fuck, I need more," you reach down to shove his shirt up so you can feel him, his stomach flexing and unflexing under your palms. He starts to buck into your clothed pussy faster, like he's fucking you through the fabric, and you whine pathetically as he tugs hard on your hair, yanking your head to the side.

"S’alright, n-needy girl, 'm gonna tell you exactly how I was fuckin' that sweet mouth of yours last night…h-how you were—," he groans raggedly in your ear, voice cracking, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat racing between your legs. "…c-chokin' and gaggin' around my cock while I was cummin' down your throat…"

He keeps giving you what you asked for, tells you all the filthy shit he wants to do to your mouth, and his hips start to stutter like he's bringing himself closer to orgasm with his own words. It would make a lot of sense—Joel's always loved the sound of his own voice, especially when it's directed at you.

But you can’t hear much of anything anymore aside from the sound of your own stuttered moaning, suddenly so, so close to hurtling over the edge with him. You’re sliding so easily over his cock now and you brace your hands on his shoulders as your thighs start to quake around his waist. He digs his fingers into the plush curve of your ass, pulling you down harder, but you squeeze his shoulders roughly to get his attention.

“Y-you—Joel, you can’t cum,” you whine into his neck, and he all but snarls in response. “No…no, no, no. Want you t-to fuck my mouth—you have to cum in my mouth—”

He abruptly yanks you off his lap, shoving you back onto the couch and wrenching your jeans and underwear down in two hard tugs.

You barely have time to let out a squeal before he buries his face in your cunt, honing in on your clit and sucking wetly. He flattens his tongue, circling once, twice, three times, and then you’re cumming with a loud exhale, gushing as you grind into his face.

Your pussy’s still pulsing, locking down around nothing, as you tug him off of you by his hair.

“Joel—jeans..o-off…now.” You help him push them down just enough to free his cock, and then your mouth is on him, sucking him down to the hilt.

His hips buck off the couch of their own accord and he groans pathetically as you gag around him. He’s petting your head and saying something raggedly above you, likely apologizing for hurting you, but it’s drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears.

Instead of pulling off to reassure him that you very much want him to keep gagging you, you guide his hands to bury themselves in your hair and squeeze his thigh, praying he gets the hint. His fingers tense against your scalp as he holds you in place and, yeah, he absolutely gets it.

Your head feels like it’s disconnecting from the rest of your body as he starts fucking into your mouth the way he was probably dreaming about last night. He’s just so fucking big, and you feel a weird sort of pride bloom in your chest at being able to take him like this.

Tears are streaming down your face from the effort and you’re drooling all over his lap but, fuck, if he wants to do this every time you patrol together, you’ll let him. You take back everything you said before—if Tommy ever takes you off Joel’s patrols, you’ll kill him.

His fingers start to tug harder, painfully at your hair and you can hear him moaning something above you, his words slurred and desperate.

“S-so fuckin’ good, sweetheart, you’re…ngh—fuckin’ perfect,” he grits through his teeth, breath hitching as you wrap your lips tighter around him, flattening your tongue along the underside of his length. “‘m gonna cum…fuck, fuck—need you t-to swallow it all, sweetheart… know you can do it…so goddamn good.”

Humming and swallowing around him, you reach up to cup his balls and he erupts, pumping thick cum into your mouth and down your throat. Deep groans are punched out of his chest with every spurt and you can feel his cock pulsing against your tongue.

There’s so much of it. You try your best to do what he asked, to be good and swallow everything, but it’s starting to leak out the corners of your mouth and down his cock. Slurping up as much as you can, you pull off with an audible pop and lick off the rest of the salty, white streaks remaining on his skin.

When your watery eyes finally meet his, he’s looking at you like maybe he really has been dreaming this whole time. He’s still a little dazed, from both the weed and the intense orgasm, and he reaches out to cradle your face in his hands almost as if to prove to himself that you’re real. It’s a surprisingly tender gesture that kind of makes your heart ache.

Your lips quirk up as you lean into his touch, aching to prolong the moment, and he leans forward to press a sweet kiss to them, mouth coaxing yours open to taste himself on your tongue. You whine softly as his tongue runs along your bottom lip, and then he pulls back, hauling you into his arms to lie back on the couch.

Those heat lamps feel unbearable now. You're both hot and sweating, chests heaving from exertion, but you still refuse to separate from each other. Your brain’s feeling a lot less foggy, so you’re probably coming down from your high, which means Joel is, too. The realization sends a pang of worry through your chest like you expect him to suddenly come to and push you away, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he pulls your back to his chest, positioning your bodies more comfortably before murmuring fondly in your ear, "You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. Maybe you’ll get to keep this after all—and without sacrificing everything that makes you and Joel, well…you and Joel. You twist around to shoot him an unimpressed look, but the burgeoning grin on your face betrays you.

“What, you’re just figuring that out? Took you long enough.”

He scoffs. “Listen, sweetheart—“ But you gasp, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. No, way. How are you just putting two and two together now?

“Wait…oh my god, wait—is this why you keep calling me sweetheart? Because it's what you called me when I was blowing you in your sex dream?” You’re grinning so hard it hurts. How the fuck didn't you notice that earlier?

There was plenty of time to work it out when you were all but fucking on the couch for the past hour. But then…he didn’t actually start calling you sweetheart until he was cumming, and the realization makes your cunt throb. You file that information away for now, but make a mental note to come back to it later—hopefully back in Jackson with Joel.

…who’s still mumbling irritatedly into your shoulder. You tilt your head back to press your lips under his jaw, and you're quickly learning that kissing that particular spot turns him to jelly.

“You can keep calling me sweetheart,” you start, thinking over your next words carefully. “But I’ve got conditions.”

“Oh, she’s got demands now,” you can hear the dramatic eye roll in his voice. You suck a bruise into his skin to stop the back sass and it works spectacularly.

“Oh, shut up. It benefits you too, asshole,” you glare up at him before continuing. “I want your dick in my mouth every time we patrol from now on. And next time, you have to fuck me.”

His fingers dig into your sides, and you’re pretty sure you just felt his cock twitch against your ass.

“…Y-yeah, I, uh. I can do that,” he stutters, suddenly demure, and it dawns on you how much you like seeing all these different sides of Joel. He’s been mean and angry, shy and tender, and so fucking sexy all in the span of a single day. It's not something you ever would've expected from him.

You used to think he was just some grumpy old man and that his one personality trait was being an obnoxious jerk, but tonight you were proven very, very wrong.

You pull his arms tighter around you, let yourself get lost in the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back, and hum contently. You’ll have to thank Ellie and her weed-grower friend later.

“Y’know, I almost thought you were gonna say no more fighting,” he says after a few seconds of silence. You look up at him incredulously, and he chuckles.

“Nah, where’s the fun in that?”

thanks so much for reading! 🥰

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

jealousy, jealousy || Lee Know x Reader

Summary: "Sure, Minho missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes."

Or: You're working with a different partner for a group assignment, and Minho's totally chill about it.

Word count: 4.9k

Genres: college AU, coffee shop AU, strangers to lovers

Warnings & Tags: jealousy, kissing, minor language, tooth-rotting fluff, seriously this is so fluffy, reader is implied to have social anxiety, Thunderstorm

series masterlist

A/N: This is the second story I've written where Lee Know's a barista and cats are involved. It probably says something deep about me, but what? I hope you'll enjoy the fic, please consider letting me know your thoughts and reblogging the fic if you do~

Minho doesn't know exactly when he noticed you, or when you started appearing in his life. It’s kind of annoying actually, because he knows he noticed you because he kept seeing you around, but he has no way of pinpointing it. What he does know is that you started showing up at the coffee shop where he worked, twice every week. That wasn’t that big a deal, you were far from being the only one the only one, but it was a shop that was pretty out of the way, near an old building that was only used for a few classes, as far as he knew, so it wasn’t that frequented.

In fact, you could almost say that the people who bothered to come here were the weirdos who wanted to avoid the other permanently full coffee shops on campus. Which was fine by Minho, who wasn’t paid enough to deal with that sort of crowd.

Anyway, at some point, Minho’s brain had to have put together he was seeing you around quite a bit, and finally he managed to figure out that it was because you were in one of the classes he was rudely forced to take outside of his major. In his defense, it took him so long because he didn’t really like people, as a rule, and he paid as little attention to them as possible. His friends were enough of a hassle to deal with already.

It makes it all the more frustrating that he can’t tell what it was about you that caught his attention. It has to have been something. Once he starts trying to understand it, more things come to light. Like the fact that your lips move but your voice doesn’t come out when you thank him for giving you your order, or the sigh of relief you always seem to heave out when you let yourself fall at your favorite table, the one in the corner, where you sit with your back to the window.

Actually, from what he can see, you appear to do your best to stay out of people’s way. It’s a multitude of little things, from how you always sit in the middle of rows in the amphitheater and wait until everyone’s cleared out to leave, to how you keep close to the walls in the hallways, eyes usually on the floor, to how, on the couple of occasions when your voice can be heard in class, it’s only after the professor’s been waiting for an answer for an increasingly embarrassing amount of time.

The first time it happens — the first time Minho notices it happening, anyway — he has to make you repeat yourself louder, and it seems almost painful for you to raise your voice.

Then there’s that time when someone accidentally backs into you and the books and papers you’re carrying spill onto the floor.

“Shit, sorry,” they say, and you reply immediately, like it’s a reflex, “Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it”, but afterwards, as you kneel next to the papers, you let out a defeated sigh, just staring at the mess for a few seconds. And that’s when Minho can’t stay in place anymore.

“Oh, thanks, you don’t have to do that,” you say, again, with that cadence that makes him feel like these are sentences that pour out of you without you getting much of say, so deeply ingrained in you that you can’t control them.

Then you glance up at him, and your eyes widen, little mouse caught in the cat’s gaze. He feels his lips curving into a grin. You recognize him, and you’re being very obvious about it too.

Cute.

“Thank you,” you repeat, taking your stuff from his hands and dipping your head to stop looking at him once you get control of yourself again.

“Vanilla latte, right?” he asks, and he probably shouldn’t be this amused by the way your head snaps back up and you freeze, but it’s— It’s kind of adorable. Though you’re obviously trying to reign yourself in, there is something so sincere about it that he can’t help but be enticed by it.

“Um,” you say. “Yes.” And then you visibly search for something to say next, rolling your lips together as if they’ll figure something out of a list of socially acceptable answers. As fun as this is, Minho decides to put you out of your misery.

For now anyway.

“I’ll give you a discount on the next one,” he says, and then he’s gone before you can start saying “You don’t have to do that”.

He actually slides the next one to you over the counter and tells you that it’s ‘on the house’. You hesitate for a few seconds, and he thinks you’re going to refuse, before you bow your head politely and thank him for it. You don’t quite look up at him after that, but a bright smile has spread on your lips.

Cute, he thinks, again, and then he doesn't think of it much at all. A part of his brain was intrigued by the novelty that you represented, and that part has been satiated now.

At least, that’s what he assumes.

You get his attention again a few weeks later. It’s fairly early in the morning and, as Minho does whenever he gets a chance, he’s behind the half abandoned building near the café, setting up some food for the cats that have taken residence here. It’s something he’s not really allowed to do, but also he’s never asked permission, so no one's told him that yet, which means that he’s not not allowed to do it either.

Still, when he hears footsteps approaching as he’s surrounded by a chorus of meows, there’s a part of him that considers making a run for it.

But then he’d have to run.

Which he doesn’t like doing.

You appear at the corner of the building before he’s made his decision. When your eyes meet, he half expects you to turn around and pretend you haven’t seen him. He’s pretty sure you’ve done that after a class, recently. You swallow, but you keep walking towards him, kneeling by his side and petting the cats as the braver ones rub themselves against your legs.

Whoever said that the surest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach clearly wasn’t obsessed with cats, because liking cats is maybe the most important requirement for Minho.

“Hi,” you say, at a surprisingly normal volume, and then, cadence a little too fast, “I have some cat food.”

Is it weird that he finds that attractive? It’s probably weird.

“Have you been stalking me?” he says more than he asks, vaguely aware of the fact that there’s something ironic about him saying those words.

Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head.

“No! I— have classes in there,” you point at the building, “and I’ve— seen you come around here. We’ve been told we couldn’t feed the cats,” you add with a slight pout. “We still do it when we can get away with it, but it's good that someone is also taking care of them.”

And you break the law for the sake of cats. Isn’t this amazing.

“I can help you buy food,” you say. “If you’d like.”

He doesn't reply right away, and when the silence stretches a second too long, you start speaking again, faster and your voice lower now.

“Or not, you know, I don’t want to impose anything, I mean, I didn’t want to intrude—”

On the one hand, that seems more like you, based on the glimpses of you he’s been getting, and on the other, he’s not sure how to shut that down. The truth is, he can barely fit the expenses in his budget. He literally can't afford to refuse your help — but he doesn't think he’d do it if he could.

“You can help,” he says, interrupting you in the middle of a sentence where you’re basically apologizing for existing, and that seems to knock the breath out of you.

“Oh,” you say, “that’s good.”

He wonders if you walk into interactions with a prepared set of sentences and panic when anyone goes off script. That sounds kind of exhausting.

“I’ll bill you,” he adds, and the feeling he gets when you let out a light laugh is one he can’t quite explain. There’s a sense of pride in it, but also some much deeper satisfaction at the feeling of having gotten you to let that guard slip, even for just a few seconds.

“I have to go to class,” you say, getting up while you rummage through your tote bag to hand him a package of dry food. “But I’ll, uh, see you around?”

There’s an expectancy to your tone, a hope even. He wonders if you’re aware of it. Either way, that sincerity, which he’d noticed before, remains pleasantly refreshing.

“Sure,” he says.

The next time you show up at the coffee shop, Friday a few minutes after six, like always, he has your vanilla latte ready.

After that, Minho finds it fascinating to see how differently you react to him, depending on the situation. Every now and then, you meet him behind the building, usually early in the morning, before there are too many people around. They would probably recognize you, and then you’d get in trouble, you explain. Your voice is lighter then, your body more relaxed. You manage to chat with him, to make small talk.

‘Manage’ really is the word for it, because your behavior is worlds apart when he sees you in class. It’s clear by now that this just isn’t your element, so you stick to your script, and Minho just isn’t a part of it. He doesn’t take it too personally, considering that no one else seems to be either.

It’s obvious to him that you get there with the objective of being in and out of the building as efficiently as possible, and with as little interaction with others as you can get away with. He does approach you still on a couple of occasions, one of them being when the classes before yours ran late and everyone was waiting in the hallway. You're focused on your phone then, and you jump when he says your name.

“How are you doing?” he asks, leaning against the wall next to you.

“Oh,” you say, which he thinks is just your filler word to give yourself time to figure out what to say next. “Um. Good. How are you?”

“Good.”

Someone else would bristle at the awkwardness of the exchange, but Minho is mostly amused by it. After a few seconds of very visibly searching for something to say, you come up with “…and how are the cats?”, though your tone is hesitant, unsure.

“They’re good too,” he grins. “Went to visit them this morning. Also, I might have found an association that could them spayed.” He certainly can’t afford to pay for it.

“That’s great,” you say.

This time, he’s the one who takes it upon himself to save the conversation, casually pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Wanna see my cats?”

You light up at the question, and Minho feels the same sort of pride he does when Dori jumps into his lap to ask for pets — instead of ungratefully evading him like the little shit he is.

It doesn’t last long, the class before yours ends soon, and after that you get back to your ‘just getting in and out’ state. It’s almost physical when it happens. The smile disappears from your lips as you press them together, you straighten your back, but the most impressive change is the way your eyebrows tighten, a small line forming between them. Minho almost wants to reach out to wipe it from your forehead, but he doesn’t. Baby steps, that’s what you need, not him invading your personal space by that much.

He doesn’t ask himself, even for a second, why he’s willing to go through that much trouble to get closer to you. He just goes with the flow, as he always has, and that works fine for him.

He doesn’t sit next to you in class, thinks it would only stress you out more, make you too aware of his presence and of how you react to it. Instead, he takes a spot right in front of you, where he can’t see you but can easily check on you if he wants to — which he does. He refrains from doing it too much though, because on more than one occasion, he caught you looking at him, and you averted your eyes quickly, acting a little too invested in your note taking.

He still thinks it’s cute, but he doesn’t want to make you go in hiding, so he holds himself back.

Which comes back to bite him in the ass, rudely, when the teacher announces that he wants people to work in pair for an assignment.

He turns around to ask you to work with him, and sees, right in front of his eyes, as the guy sitting next to you asks you the same thing in a casual manner. You reply too fast, one of your knee-jerk answers, he can tell, but it’s still done before he even got the time to open his mouth. He also knows, instinctively, that you’ll feel embarrassed if he asks you now, so he doesn’t, turning to his own neighbor while holding back the strange urge to hiss at the guy.

…maybe he spends too much time with cats, actually.

Minho’s fine with the situation. He is. He still gets to be around you some mornings, and you now look him in the eye when you place your order at the coffee shop. You also don’t recoil as much as you used to when he leans over the counter, ostensibly to flirt with you — though he’s like, 98% sure you haven’t realized that’s what he’s doing. He’s making progress in getting you to feel more comfortable around him.

Sure, he missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes.

He’s been moody about it for days, to the point that Jisung pouted at him, asking him “what was wrong with him these days”, and Changbin looked him dead in the eyes to ask him if he needed help to get a girl, because he clearly needed to get laid.

A conversation he got out of by replying “do you want to die”, which is a card he’s maybe been playing a little too much these days.

He’s been in a good mood today, though. He’d seen you in the morning, and you’d helped him try to make a small shelter for the cats, because it had been announced that there would be heavy rain over the whole week-end. It had been a fun time, and maybe he’d used the opportunity to get closer to you than usual, enjoying how flustered it made you. Just brushing against you as he grabbed some planks you’d sneaked out of the building, totally accidentally touching your hand when you handed him something, that kind of things.

He had somewhat ruined the effect by accidentally dropping a plank on his foot, but that had made you laugh, so, it was— No, it still wasn’t worth it, he didn’t enjoy pain, but it made him slightly less annoyed about it.

So, as he waited for you in the coffee shop, as the skies outside darkened and fewer people than usual showed up, he wasn’t in as bad a mood as he’d been lately.

It started to rain at around half past five. He would have loved to run to get you with an umbrella, but he, unfortunately, needed his job. He did get a towel ready to hand to you, in case you didn’t have anything to protect yourself from the rain.

And then you came in.

Under an umbrella.

Which was in the hands of the one guy that was your partner in that one class.

Violent thoughts of murder flash before Minho’s eyes.

“Hey,” you say as you walk to the counter, giving him a bright smile, “this is Jooyeon, he’s in—”

“Class with us,” Minho completes with a smile that’s very much fake, “yes, I recognize him.”

Actually, technically, Jooyeon hasn’t done anything wrong, but it doesn’t help that he’s been looking at you and following you around like a damn puppy. What annoys Minho the most is probably the fact that you seem a lot chiller around him, a lot more natural than you are whenever Minho’s around. That’s— upsetting. He wants to see these sides of you, too, and not just from afar.

One vanilla latte and an americano later, you and Jooyeon sit by the window, in your usual spot, and Minho can’t stop himself from glaring. Jisung, or anyone, really, would call him out on it in a matter of seconds, because he’s not being subtle about it, but there’s no one around right now. The room, which is rarely full, is emptier than usual because most people rushed to get home to try to avoid the downpour.

That means that there is nothing to distract him from the intrusive thoughts that are trying to convince him to just throw something at Jooyeon. Anything would do.

When it starts becoming a little too tempting, and considering that he doubts anyone would brave the rain that’s falling at the moment, as thick as a curtain separating the coffee shop from the outside world, he decides to grab his computer and try to get some work done.

Of course, because some divinity out there must have decided to target him today, he’s just getting started and finding his rhythm when the lights flicker above him. He glances up. In the distance, the thunder rumbles.

There’s a flash outside.

And everything goes dark.

Fuck. His. Life.

With a sigh, he pulls out his phone to turn on his flashlight. At least, in this day and age, most people in the shop have the same idea, and soon enough he can see what’s happening.

“It’s probably just a power cut because of the storm,” he announces loudly, because it’s his responsibility to reassure the clients — if that had been something they’d tested for when he was interviewed, he would never have gotten the job. “Lights might come back on soon.” Or not, how would he know. “No reason to panic.”

He scans the faces of students, though he’s not sure what he’s looking for. Some people look worried, others, no doubt those who know that this happens semi-regularly on campus when there’s a storm, because why would your tuition pay to ensure that you have reliable electricity in here, just seem prepared to wait it out. Someone’s already gone back to tapping on their keyboard, though the sound of it is swallowed by that of the rain.

But then, he does a double-take, just to check on an impression that he had, and that confirms what he thought.

You’re not in the room. Most likely explanation is that you’re in the bathroom, but he has to imagine that it’s a pretty freaky experience, when all the lights turn off without warning and you’re all alone.

So, without thinking much about it, he makes his way in that direction. He’s hesitating in front of the door when it pushes open, and he’s suddenly blinded by cellphone light.

“Sorry!” he hears you apologize before he can make out your face. “I, uh, is the power out?”

“It looks like it,” he answers, and then his tone softens. “Are you okay?”

There’s a few seconds of silence, and he can’t quite discern your expression, because you’ve both lowered your lights. He resists the urge to reach for you, to inspect you to see for himself that everything is fine.

“I’m fine,” you answer. “I just—”

Then there’s the crack of thunder, and you jump, gasping, before closing your eyes in obvious annoyance.

“Fuck,” you say, and he wonders if it’s the first time that he’s ever heard you swear. And if it’s weird that he’s kinda into it.

“You scared of storms?” he asks, trying his best to contain the amusement in his voice.

“No,” you protest, a little defensively. “I don’t like being surprised— Fuck!”

Minho knows he shouldn’t laugh, that making fun of you could ruin the trust he’s been trying to build this past month, but at your annoyance for letting yourself be taken by surprise, and considering your obvious lack of fear, he can’t help it. It comes out higher than his usual pitch, a little airy. You roll your eyes at it, but you don’t seem to miss the humor in the situation, because a smile forms on your lips as well.

At that point, because he isn’t one to let an opportunity slip, he reaches out to take your hand in his. Your palm is soft, if somewhat calloused on the spot under your fingers, and after the first moment of surprise, you squeeze his hand in response.

“It’s okay,” he says. “It should be over soon.” Then a pause. “Or maybe we’ll be stuck here until we have to decide who we’re going to eat.”

You laugh at that, brief and light, and as cliché as it is, Minho thinks that is quickly becoming one of his favorite sounds in the world. Especially when he’s the one making you laugh, and not that jackass Joo— Ah, the kid hasn’t technically done anything, and it feels silly to blame him when you’re here with your hand in his.

So he’ll let it go. For now.

As much as he would like to stay here with you, in the dark, away from everyone else, Minho unfortunately has stuff he needs to take care of right now.

“Wanna go back with the others? I think I have to keep an eye on them.”

“Sure,” you say. You don’t attempt to take your hand from his, and so he pulls you along with him. He’s not going to let go if you won’t.

Things in the café are still quiet, and people don’t pay a lot of attention when the two of you come back, except for Jooyeon, who gets up from his seat.

“That must have taken you by surprise,” he says with empathy. “Everything okay?”

“All good,” you reply warmly, and there’s a pinch in Minho’s chest again. “I think we’ll have to postpone the session though. I’ll let you know when I’m free, if that’s okay with you?”

Ugh. Minho tunes Jooyeon’s response out, only waiting for an opportunity to whisk you away. He probably shouldn’t feel this strongly about it, is aware that you’re entirely within your own rights if you want to pick Jooyeon over him, but from his perspective, that doesn’t mean he has to let it be an easy decision to make. He’s not the type to lie down and just watch as that happens.

So the second Jooyeon’s eyes flick back to his computer, Minho’s taking you towards the counter with him. He checks the register once he’s there — which he definitely shouldn’t have let unattended without verifying that it couldn’t be accessed without electricity, oops, his bad — and after having confirmed that everything’s fine, his eyes go back to you.

The spike in his heart rate when he finds you already staring at him surprises him a little. He supposes that he can’t be that jealous without also having that sort of reaction to you. It’s not… unpleasant, actually, though the strength of it surprises him. It’s not the kind of emotion he usually welcomes, he’s used to them feeling less sharp, duller. But he doesn’t reject that one.

Gently, he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, enjoying the feeling of your skin against his.

“Is there an issue between him and Jooyeon?” you ask, voice soft.

Ah. For someone who’s so completely oblivious about his interest in you, you were sure quick to notice that.

“You could say that,” he replies, and you frown.

“I didn’t know that,” you say, words coming out slow, like you’re figuring out what to say as you go, instead of defaulting to your usual pre-built answers. “Can I ask why?”

Minho raises an eyebrow. Then, wordlessly, he shifts himself so that you’re against the counter, with him standing in front of you. It’s interesting, because he’s almost exactly in the spot where he is every day, and every time he steals glances at you to make his day marginally better. He puts his hands on either side of you, hears you take a sharp breath.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

His voice comes out soft and muted, and as he asks, he feels something squeeze at his heart. Maybe because he’s not sure of what you'll answer. Maybe because he could have misread you, thought that you were oblivious when the truth was that you weren't interested. He could be keeping you away from your one true love, Jooyeon, who you’re going to go on to marry and have three k—

“Yes,” you squeak.

Ok, never mind.

Technically you’re in public, but it’s not like anyone’s looking your way, or like they'd see something other than silhouettes when he leans towards you.

It feels so natural when he kisses you. You lift your arms to wrap them around his neck, his hands find their place on your hips. Much to his surprise, you’re the one who presses yourself into him, lips moving softly against his, and it sends a jolt of electricity through his body. Suddenly there’s urgency running through his veins, desire, and his fingers dig harder into you. He kisses you with more intensity, like he’s trying to get rid of any space left between the two of you, and the soft sigh you let out only spurs him on further.

He’s seconds — fractions of seconds — away from doing something stupid when laughter and claps fill the room.

He parts from you, feeling his ears and cheeks turning red already, and discovers that the lights treacherously turned back on, and everyone is looking at the two of you. Protectiveness rushes through him, and he’s about to say something snappy, thinking that you’d be uncomfortable with it, when he realizes that you’re doubled over in laughter. Yes, you look a little embarrassed, but mostly, you seem fine with it.

Which is good, because otherwise he thinks he might have lost the shop a number of customers.

Everyone looks amused and happy for the two of you. Even Jooyeon’s grinning, though the look he gives Minho says, essentially, “Oh that was your problem”. It doesn’t capture people’s attention very long, but there’s something very sweet and human about the moment and how happy it seems to make everyone. Some regulars even exchange glances that seem to mean ‘I told you so’. Ha, he didn’t think he’d ever become campus gossip.

Once there are fewer eyes on the two of you, Minho leans towards you.

“I’ll take you on a date anywhere, as long as it’s not to get coffee.”

Your face lights up.

“I’d love that.”

Working at a coffee shop is not something that Minho finds very fun. Someone who enjoys human interactions more than him might, but it just feels very repetitive to him. Doing the same movements, asking the same questions, having to deal with the same issues from asshole customers who are different but also fundamentally the same person. The ding of cash register, the one of no contact credit cards, the buzzing of the coffee machine. It’s repetitive, but in a way that fills and numbs the mind.

There’s just one sound that he minds a little less now, and it’s the one the door makes when it opens.

Because, every now and again, it means that you’ve just come in.

“Hey,” you say as you reach the counter. You’re smiling so bright, and he loves it because he knows that it’s another one of those things that you can’t help. You’re smiling because he makes you happy, and isn’t that the best thing in the world?

“Dating the barista doesn’t entitle you to free coffee,” he says as he slides your vanilla latte over to you, though he has used his employee discount on everything you’ve ordered lately and he would very much give it to you for free if you didn’t insist on paying for your own stuff.

“We’re still on for tonight?” you ask, taking the coffee from the table.

“You think I’d let you get out of it?” he replies, and you laugh, before taking off to go to your usual table.

After that, he keeps going, keeps doing the same movements, asking the same questions, hearing the same noises. But sometimes, he glances in your direction and finds you focused on your computer, biting your lower lip as you’re deep in thought, or looking at him with a smile, and it makes it all more bearable.

Because you give him something to look forward to.

Taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

[writingbynova]

Nanami Kento

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ⊹ : Nanami x fem!reader - explicit content; minors DNI - pwp (porn with plot) light sadist & masochist couple - BDSM - Rope play - choking - missionary, & doggy style positions - [un]protected sex - overstimulation- edging - rough/angry sex - multiple orgasms - deepthroating/facefucking - pet names (darling, baby) - praise - degrading - toys usage - blindfold - camera/pictures - established relationship - (let me know if I missed any tags)

Word count: ~2.5k

Enjoy~♪

Nanami had a thing for watching you lose your mind, of course he was a sweet, gentle and caring husband, but he strived in seeing, no, watching you, being driven to the edge, chanting his name. He had something of a sadist, a soft and caring one for sure, but still a sadist and he definitely knew how to take care of the masochist you were especially whenever you started acting up.

He was standing in the middle of the store looking at you speeding to the checkout, he'd take care of you later.

Minutes prior you two were walking around, buying some groceries for the house when you stopped by the cakes and sweet aisle. This wasn't new for the both of you, you had a sweet tooth and always craved candies, cookies, but most of all french pastries. You were a sucker for macarons, fraisiers but most of all Brioche, you couldn't keep your hand off it. You turned your head to him and pointed at the aisle but he immediately dismissed you "I just got you brioche yesterday honey you're not getting those" he was unfaltering, mostly because your consumption of sweet treats was messing with your health, temper and diet. You crossed your arms and pouted "please~ Kento the love of my life and the man of my dreams, it's your favourite bread too we'll share" but he didn't budge.

You had to do something, you were certainly not going to resign, in a few seconds you had already planned your strategy. You drifted his attention away "could you please go and get me some green olives over there " he nodded, starting to take the cart with him. "Wait, don't worry I'll take the kart I have to get some yoghurt and fruits" he didn't think much of it. When he walked away you immediately sped through the store once you got to your domain your brain went left, throwing candies, cookies and everything that caught your eye into the cart, especially that brioche he was so adamant about you not getting, before speeding to the checkout station.

On the other hand Nanami was looking at you. Of course he saw what you did, he wasn't stupid he knew you hated olives, though he picked up his phone and dialed your number

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-"Honey, I got what you wanted, but where are you ?" he asked.

-"oh you can put that down I don't need it anymore actually I'm at check out"

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

When you saw him arriving through the corner of your eyes you exposed a large smile, he looked down at all the groceries already scanned, you had purposefully put those he didn't allow up front so they would have been scanned by the time he arrived, he looked back up at you and gave you a toothy grin.

You left the groceries In the trunk. No matter how much you protested about bringing them he didn't care, he knew this was one of your attempts at delaying what was to come, he wasn't letting it pass.

He threw you over his shoulder, walked in the house and took you straight to the bedroom, there and then you knew you were fucked. There were a few things Nanami didn't like;

Being disobeyed.

Being taken for a fool.

You managed to do both.

He knew your plan from the beginning "You know I thought you'd back out, I watched you, running through that aisle, having fun. You really thought I could be fooled so easily?" He asked "I'm sorry Kento..I thought It'd be funny-" you falsely admitted.

"oh it is, at least it is going to be for me" he said, resting you on the bed before kneeling and pulling a black box from under the bed. You watched him, having a feeling about what was about to come. He brought a long dark red ropes and placed them next to you, you should have known, honestly. He loved those ropes, he loved seeing the bruises they made on your body, he loved even more massaging you afterwards to ease the pain. Your thoughts went to the last time he used those ropes.

He had tied you up, hand being your back, thighs and ankle together, gagged you, and spent about 2 hours, spanking, biting, and scribbling the words "slut, cum-dump, whore" over you body, you found it degrading, he found it beautiful, it was both. In his words, the white marker perfectly made contrast with your skin and matched the shade of which he was going to paint your insides with. The rope had left sore lines all over your body and he took pride in them by tracing his tongue over where they previously stood. Of course you loved it, but you wouldn't admit so easily

"You're willing to listen to me now ? It's okay if you're not" He said.

"No, no — Kento I will" he didn't seem mad but he also didn't look pleased by your behavior, no need to try him, honestly.

"Good, listen to me carefully. I want you to be perfectly quiet, from now on I do not want to hear a sound coming from that beautiful throat of yours, understood?"

You nodded, his hands returned to remove your clothes, when you were fully exposed, he grabbed the ropes, and started working his art, you didn't quite understand how he'd do it but he tied your hand to the ropes that went around your back and your thighs to your angles. The ropes did compliment your body, they made diamonds shaped around your breasts, your belly button and your pussy, he was good at it, so good you wondered how he learned that.

"Tug" he flatly said, you didn't get it at first until you understood he was asking you to tug on the ropes, he smiled when he saw that you completely couldn't move, his eyes turned to the black box on the floor next to the bed. You watched eagerly, anxious about what he was about to bring out, your eyes went wide when he brought 3 objects out; a blindfold, a digital camera, and a vibrator.

Now you really tugged on the ropes, squirming and attempting to unbalance yourself on the bed. He giggled at your sudden attempts "don't worry baby" he slid the vibrator right on your clit, the ropes keeping it in place, he covered your eyes with the blindfold, before leaning into the crook of your neck and trailing bite marks, you were breathing heavily as his hand went to cup your breast, you arched your back, pushing your chest into him. He abruptly stopped in his tracks "Shit, he cursed, you know what? You're right, I should go get those groceries in, I'll be back in five" he said, walking out of the room, you could hear it in his voice, taunting you, he wouldn't be back in five.

You were confused, did the groceries really mattered at this point ? You relied on your hearing, he went down the stairs, then you heard the front door open and close, and *bzzz* Your legs shook from the unexpected sensation, the vibrator was buzzing right on your clit, your breathing became heavier but you couldn't make a noise, occasionally you could hear cabinets opening and closing, your first orgasm washed over you, you panted, heavily, desperately squirming to attempt at offering release to your swollen bud. You felt the vibrator go up in intensity, your head flew back, and your mouth parted, you bit your bottom lip, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You couldn't hear any noise downstairs, he was probably outside.

A thought crossed your mind, he couldn't hear from outside right? Would he really know you weren't so quiet ? At first you only whined lowly, then you let a few moans escape, and then you begged him, repeating his name though he wasn't here during your you-lost-count-th climax, just as you felt another climax chiming in, the vibrator stopped, the blindfold was taken off your puffy teary eyes, Nanami was staring at you, digital camera and a bunch of polaroid in his hand. Your eyes were frantically avoiding his. He kept quiet for a few seconds before saying.

"I've spoiled you too much, I'm gonna have to train you all over again. Good thing this is my week off." His hand undid the knots that held you open in what felt like a quarter of a second. Get on your knees, he snapped. You could hear how pissed he was "You were being good, obedient and silent just like I asked you to be, until you got sneaky, then shameless." He spat

"Nanami I-"

"still haven't asked you to talk" he reprimanded, he tied your wrists together behind you then pointed to the floor "get on your knees" you went with his words, kneeling in front of him "since you didn't understand when I told you to be quiet, I figured I'd teach that throat to stay occupied at something else" he unbuckled his belt, and pulled out his cock from his boxer, he was rock hard, his cock stood rigid right in front of your eyes, precum drooping from the tip.

"Open up" he demanded, you executed, parting your lips to let place for the pink head of his shaft, his large palms rested on you cheeks and his fingers interlocked behind your head, "wider, and watch the teeth" as soon as you did he shoved your face down on his length, making you gag, tears prickling your eyes "shhh, relax your throat" he pulled you up and shoved you down, once again, but slower, you were starting adjust to his length, concentrating on his groans and moans, he was long, long and large, it felt like he was in your throat, saliva dripping on your chin, he rubbed his length back and forth on your tongue causing him to groan in pleasure, his back and forth intensified, he started thrusting into your mouth while he slid you on his shaft, curses escaping his mouth

"If only— you were a good girl, if only..fuck... If only you weren't such a disobedient whore, I'd be fucking that tight pussy of yours, I wouldn't have to teach this slutty throat, how to shut..the fuck...up." he groaned.

His cock thrusted violently into your throat and stood there, twitching and gushing cum right down your throat. "Every last drop" he whispered. He was panting, his chest hovering up and down. *Click* you had almost forgotten about that digital camera, His eyes met yours, and you knew he wasn't done. Not even close.

Climbing on the bed on all fours, exposing your ass to him. Your hand tied together resting on your back, your face into the pillow. His hand came to rub on the bare surface, his finger sliding down the slit to tease your folds, his cock rubbed on your entrance, quickly enough, he pushed in, first of all the tip, then dragging slowly dragging himself into you, his hand then came to grab your hair pulling your entire body up, he nibbled, bit, and sucked on your neck

His other hand came up to fondle your breast, pinching and bullying your oversensitive nipple. "You're not gonna cum until I tell you to darling understood ? Let me hear your words"

"Yes— Kento" you whimpered, his thrusts were bearable for now, you were completely arched on his cock, the trusts pushing you forward, while his grip your hair held you back. You felt the knot in your stomach tightening with each inch he pushed in and pushed out. "—Ken! I wanna cum-" you whined, he stopped in his track entirely dragging himself out of you, letting your orgasm wither away, "Come on darling you don't think it'd be that easy to cum right ? Obedient but yet still so spoiled..you're going to beg for it darling" you turned to look at him, "Kento, please, I know I don't deserve it and that I've misbehaved, but I need it, I'll obey Nanami, from now on, but please, please allow me to cum" he climbed on to the bed caging you between his muscled arms "you want to cum— on this cock?" You nodded frantically.He asked, gliding himself up and down your wet entrance "repeat after me darling—say youre daddy's slut look at me and say it"

Your eyes came to meet his, a cocky grin decorating his face " I'm daddy's slut" you hesitantly said. At those words his tip went through, stretching your entrance "say you'll be a good girl for me" you prop yourself on your elbow, your eyes drooled at the lewd sight of him entering you "I'll be—... I'll be a good girl" you said staring straight at his shaft. He snickered, "eye up here darling say it again" you lift your eyes to meet his "Kento, I'll be a good girl, just for you" at those words he glides his length in you, you throw your head back, your walls tightening around his shape.

"Not so soon darling, fuck..you're tight but you still have work to do" he groaned "say you want my cock baby" your pussy was still adjusting to him, squirming and throbbing around him "Ken~ I really— really want your cock" you whined, feeling him twitch inside you "atta girl— what a..good fucking girl you are" he groaned, separating each word by a moan ripping thrust, he repeatedly slammed into you, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix, "I know you need to, go ahead baby cream my cock" he moaned watching you bounce on him "cum—ming" you loudly moaned, shuddering and whimpering uncontrollably "one more baby, you need to cream daddy's dick one more time, I know you can" he agonizingly slowly glided his length in and out of you watching your lids twitch and eyes roll back, his hand wrapped and applied pressure around your neck while his other hand went down to draw circles on your clit, your hand flew to hold his wrist, the pressure was light, he would only really squeeze when you were about to moan, making you go mute and stiff tightening around his cock.*click*

You opened your eyes to see the digital camera over you. When his grasp on your neck tightened, his thrusts became rougher and his thumb rubbed your clit faster, you were silently crying his name, feeling his climax building up, he threw his head back, moaning your name. His cock twitched pouring his hot cum as deep as he could his hips were bucking, but he kept on ramming into you, dragging you with him over the edge "Ken, fuck— I'm cumming Ken—" your orgasm washed over your body, and your eyes blurred with tears. You withered in his grasp, your mind went blank and your body was limp in his arms "I'm sure the pastries were worth it" he whispered in your ear.

[mutable-manifestation]

Actual Scientists Jack & Maddie AU Part 3

Part 1 & 2

***

The lab is empty when they get to Fenton Works, his parents busy off helping the JLD wherever it was they were working from.

The journey the rest of the way to the Far Frozen passes relatively quickly under the weight of discussing how to reverse engineer the sarcophagus of forever sleep to make Naptime Box 2: Vlad Edition.

Could they probably just beat him up with the right plan and aid? Sure. But then they risk having to play royal hot potato (Danny doesn't want it and he doubts most of the allies he has would want the extra responsibility. Assuming there are responsibilities - Danny wouldn't know since there hasn't been a king, for all intents and purposes, since well before he became a halfa so who knows what the position even means in the context of the Zone).

Plus it would be way more satisfying to shove him in a box. Vlad gets a nice long nap and Danny gets to live the rest of his half-life without worrying about his Dad getting stabbed or something if Vlad starts feeling impatient.

It would also give Danny plenty of time to find some way to buy the Packers - not because he wants them, just because it would be really funny if Vlad eventually woke up to find that the only thing he wanted other than Maddie was now also very permanently out of reach.

The city of Green Bay could fold eventually, after all. But Danny? Danny would never yield, just to spite him, and Vlad would know that.

He probably won't actually do it, seeing as a) expensive and b) probably complicated.

But it would be really funny.

Their discussion on the ethics of using the Fenton Stockades as the base for the Box cut off as they land.

Without the distraction of their chat the adrenaline of panic comes rushing back, and he transforms as he steps out of the Speeder, nyooming to hover in front of Frostbite so quickly that the entire welcoming party - Frostbite somehow manages to have one arranged every time he drops by, and Danny is usually willing to at least try and indulge them since it seems to make them happy - jolts in surprise.

"Greetings!" Frostbite smiles wide, arms open in a grand welcoming, the only hint of lingering surprise the trails of slightly puffed up fur up his arms and the sides of his neck that has already mostly smoothed itself back out. "The Far Frozen welcomes the Great One and friends-"

"Hey Frostbite sorry for being abrupt but I'm kind of freaking out and you seemed like the best person - uh, ghost to go to because you always seem to know lots of things and I kind of need to know what's going on as soon as possible just in case it's a worst case scenario because the Justice League came to talk to my parents about some papers and I probably haven't mentioned them to you before because they're awful and I thought my parents made them but surprise I was wrong! Which is good! Except the League was mostly worried about them maybe causing the new ghost king to war with the human realm because apparently there's a supernatural branch of the Justice League and they think there's a new Ghost KingTM as in the Ghost King after Pariah Dark and I'm kind of freaking out because if there is a new ghost king there's actually a chance it's Vlad and oh ancients please tell me it's not Vlad or that the League heard wrong please."

Sam and Tucker had caught up by then, coming to stand on either side of him as Frostbite blinked.

"You are...asking me the identity of the current High King?" He asks, face scrunched in a bewildered expression.

"Oh my gosh Batman was right!?" He floats a bit higher at the news. "Please just tell me it's not Vlad! Uh, Plasmius."

"Plasmius?" Frostbite asks, eyebrows crawling higher. "Certainly not! What in the realms - do you truly not know?"

"Oh thank goodness," Danny sighs, sinking back to his usual level. "Not Vlad, okay, one less disastrous possibility. And whoever it is probably already knows they're the king and nothing bad has happened yet so it's probably fine, right?"

He looks back to meet Frostbite's eyes.

"Wait, nothing bad has happened yet, right? Like, is everything okay? I know Pariah caused you guys a lot of grief before; the new guy 's not going around causing trouble for you and you just haven't told me because you're worried about being a bother, right?" He frets, eyes flicking about, searching for fresh injuries on the various members of the welcoming party.

"...No, Great One," Frostbite answers, blinking away the surprised expression to be replaced by something soft. "Though I, and all the Far Frozen, are honored by your concern. While Pariah Dark is no longer the High King of the Infinite Realms, I can assure you, with utmost certainty, that you have nothing to fear from his successor. But I believe we have much more to discuss. Come, let us find somewhere more comfortable to talk - and get your human friends out of the cold."

***

It didn't take them long to reach a sitting room, and soon enough they were all settled into the enormous, fuzzy chairs in one of the warmer rooms available, Danny and Frostbite each with a cup of shaved ice tea while Sam and Tucker were offered beverages warm enough to steam in deference to their need for warmth.

Once everyone had taken a sip - or bite - Danny launched back into his questioning.

"So did Dark have a kid hidden away somewhere or did some kind of council finally decide on his replacement? Actually can ghosts even have - wait right Box Lunch, forgot about that on purpose but never mind. Or is there some fourth option that isn't those or trial by combat that we didn't think of?"

"Before I answer that, Great One, may I ask why you have already discounted trial by combat?" He returns curiously.

"Because if it was trial by combat it would be Vlad - er, Plasmius - and you already said it isn't him."

"Or it could be you," Tucker ribs, waggling his fingers at him.

"We already talked about why it couldn't be me, Tuck," Danny huffs, rolling his eyes and taking another bite of his... smoothie?

"Oh? And why do you think it would be Plasmius?" Frostbite asks.

"Because! I may have fought Pariah Dark, and sure I put him back in the sarcophagus, but I was running on fumes by that point, and he was still slamming around in there! Vlad, as much as I hate to admit it, is the one that turned the key and made sure he stayed locked away. It took almost everything I had to keep him pinned long enough. If...if he'd been even a few seconds later I probably would've died the rest of the way before he even had the time to break out a second time."

"But had you not put him there, no key would have mattered," Frostbite begins quietly. "Plasmius was no match for Pariah Dark; he was defeated in an instant the first time they clashed."

"Well, yeah, but so was I," he protests, not liking the direction the conversation is beginning to take.

"And yet, you alone went to face him a second time. You alone stood against the King of All Ghosts while your armies clashed."

"Our-!? I didn't have- you mean the ghosts that came to help me???" Danny sputtered, incredulous. "They weren't an army they were just-"

He pauses, searching for words that would not come.

"They were just a large group of ghosts who sided with you, who aided you in combat and kept the multitudes distracted while you went to face their leader alone. However you thought of them at the time, whatever they were to you up till then or are to you now, after, in that moment they were your army."

"Danny's totally the ghost king, isn't he?" Sam drawls after the brief silence that follows.

"Indeed," Frostbite answers her, but he looks Danny in the eyes as he does so. "You are the savior of the Ghost Zone, Pariah's Bane. And you are the High King of the Infinite Realms."

"I cheated!" Danny blurts out, shooting up to float above his chair.

"Cheated?" Frostbite's lips twitch as he fights down a smile.

"I had the Fenton Ecto-Skeleton! That's totally cheating! Don't combat trials have to be honorable or something?!" He begs.

Frostbite chuckles.

"I apologize, Great One, but I am afraid there is no such thing as an honorable war," he says, expression briefly turning solemn. "And even if it were, just as you had your "Ecto-Skeleton," did not Pariah have his ring and crown?

You issued a challenge and he answered, your armies clashed while the two of you stood against each other and each other alone; you alone put him back into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, and you alone held it shut long enough for Plasmius to turn the key.”

Danny drifts back down to his seat as Frostbite speaks, then continues slouching further with every word.

“I am given to understand that Plasmius likes to think of others as pawns on his own personal chessboard,” he says, “But at the time he was but another ghost, come to fight Pariah's army on your behalf - as a member of your army. A pawn, to paraphrase his own words, that you used to topple a king - not through any intentional manipulation, but through the sheer magnetic charisma of your willingness to stand against monsters like Pariah Dark and of your ability to do so. The confidence to stand alongside you that such strength inspires. 

He would not have approached if he did not believe you could win - would not risk endangering himself so. At best, you could consider him a referee, calling the match to a close once it was decisively in your favor.

Plasmius may think of existence as a game with himself as the only player, and he may have been acting in his own self-interest overall, but by every measure, in this instance, he was undeniably your piece.

The Zone itself acknowledges your right to rule by the way the crown of fire sits where you left it, unmoving on the floor of Pariah's keep until the day you finally choose to wear it, no matter how many hands may try to move it."

Frostbite's words are slow and measured, but as undeniable as the creeping of a glacier. And by the time they cease, Danny has sunk so far as to end up an undignified heap on the floor before his chair.

The trio remains silent as they absorb his words.

Minutes pass before Danny finally speaks.

"If the crown can't be taken, then how did I get it from Pariah?" He questions, a final hope that Frostbite may be mistaken.

"It will only remain unmoved until you first put it on. After that, it will be up to you whether it stays safe on your head."

Danny groans his despair, final bit of hope shattered.

"I must apologize again, Great One," he says solemnly. "Had I known you were unaware of your station, I would have informed you sooner."

He frowns heavily, looking into the distance thoughtfully.

"The Observants should have informed you long before now."

"Well, that explains it. The Observants hate Danny's guts," Tucker says.

"To neglect their duties for such a reason...," He trails off, his glower highlighting the inhuman nature of his visage. 

The trio fidget.

Danny coughs after a few seconds of tense silence.

“Uh, speaking of duties,” he begins, relaxing as Frostbite’s expression smooths back into something kind and polite as he listens, “What exactly does the Ghost King even do? Like. Pariah was locked away for… a long time? I guess. So does the Zone even need a King? Can’t I just, like, resign?”

“I suppose it might seem that way from a younger ghost’s perspective - Pariah has been locked away for millenia, after all, and the Zone is still in one piece.” 

Frostbite pauses, leaning back in his seat and taking another bite of his drink. 

“However. What you must understand, Great One, is that the problems caused by the absence of a king in the Infinite Realms are not the whirlwind that such a thing would be in the living realm - social order is affected, but the speed of bureaucracy is slower by orders of magnitude in the Realms, and there is not the same level of inter-reliance that the living tend to require - but rather, they are winds and waters sliding against a rock, chipping away at it bit by bit until it is either worn smooth… or the whole structure collapses under its own weight.”

“How does not having a king cause dimensional collapse!?” Tucker shrieks, clutching his cup like a lifeline.

“How long do we have before it collapses?” Sam asks urgently not a second later.

“Oh shit, how long do we have before it collapses???” he echoes, hunching over his cup enough that the steam adds a layer of fog to his glasses.

Danny sits bolt upright, whipping wide eyes away from his friends to join them in staring at Frostbite.

“Total collapse would take millenia more to truly begin,” he placates before taking a more grave expression. “This does not mean that there will not be issues before that point, however; the symptoms of the High King’s absence have begun to show this past millennium. But rest assured, there is time enough to heal the wounds that have been wrought. The only permanent damage would be the collapse itself, and that, as I said, is millenia away.”

“Is… is that why you never mentioned it to me before?” Danny asks, dropping back to the ground in relief. “Because it’s not urgent and you figured I’d just…get to it eventually? Actually, why did you think I knew if you knew that the crown was still in Pariah’s Keep?”

“It is the duty of the Observants to observe, but also, as you have experienced, to oversee - the timeline, trials, the general functioning of the zone. Without a king to report to, much of their ability to act is crippled, of course - their ability to interfere directly with the timeline has always been severely restricted, their options for sentencing are severely reduced, and there are some things the Realms require that only the High King can provide - but one duty remains unaffected: overseeing the ascension of new kings. 

Coronations have taken many forms in the past, from a quick swap in the battlefield to a formal ceremony to a celebration that lasted a decade. Given the dark era we are, at last, able to put behind us and the non-urgent nature of even the most severe problems that the Realms are currently affected by, I had assumed that the large delay was in preparation for that last form - the lead-up to a grand celebration.”

“Except instead it’s just them being petty,” Sam notes, sitting back up from her own relieved slouch. 

Danny groans, leaving his tea to float and covering his face with his hands.

“Why couldn’t it have just been as easy as shoving Vlad in a box,” he whines.

“I mean, we still can?” Tucker offers, prompting Sam to smack him over the head before pausing consideringly.

“OW!”

“He might be right, actually,” she says, ignoring his exclamation. “Given Vortex’s trial and sentencing, there’s clearly some kind of legal system in the Zone that isn’t just Walker on a power trip. No doubt he’s broken some kind of Actual Realms Law - I’d be surprised if breaking Pariah out like he did wasn’t some form of highly illegal - so you could probably send him to actual Ghost Jail. It’s certainly where he belongs, given all the….”

She makes a vague gesture with her hand in lieu of words.

“That doesn’t resolve the problem of I Don’t Wanna Be A King!” Danny exclaims, sitting back and throwing his hands in the air.

Then he turns to Frostbite, eyes pleading. 

“Can’t you be king?” he asks. 

Frostbite opens his mouth to reply, but Danny steamrolls over him.

“It makes sense! You already know how to lead people! And your people love you! You already know about all the king stuff too! You’ve beaten me in spars before! We’d just have to go to the keep, I put on the crown, you beat me, and problem solved!”

Frostbite’s smile is a mix of amused and pitying.

“I have only ever beaten you in training spars, Great One, and you and I both know that is largely because they were focused on improving your skill with ice and ice alone. Even if I could defeat you in a true all-out fight as you are, I believe you underestimate the boost granted by the crown of fire.”

“I can just put it on then take it off again before we fight! And we can stick to ice!”

“I’m afraid it is not so simple,” he shakes his head. “If you do not give it your all, the crown - the Realms - will not recognize the transition. The only way to “throw the match” successfully would require your opponent to fully End you: to crush your core and snuff your spirit from the very fabric of existence. I am unwilling to do such a thing, and I sincerely hope you would not ask it of me - or, indeed, of anyone.”

Danny paled enough that he nearly matched his human form in skin tone.

“Right. Let’s… let’s not do that, actually.”

“On the bright side, you can probably weasel ruling tips out of Aquaman in exchange for not declaring war on the Living Realm!” Tucker chirps, aiming to cheer him up.

“I’m not going to threaten the Justice League!” he yelps, scandalized.

“But you probably won’t have to threaten them,” Sam chimes in. “They’re already trying to summon you, you already know their goal is to avoid a war. As long as you don’t ask for anything unreasonable, they should be inclined to give you what you want in exchange for peace.”

“Once you offer peace, they will be invested in your successful rule of their own volition as a means of perpetuating said peace,” Frostbite corrects. “If you would like to set preconditions to an accord you should make them things that will not readily be given as a result of said accord. But before we discuss further, perhaps you can fill me in on why war was a concern in the first place? I believe you mentioned something about papers?”

[marvelsmylife]

Green-eyed boyfriend

Pairing: Garrick Tavis x reader

Plot: Garrick doesn’t like that his girlfriend is spending time with another guy.

A/n this is based on this request

Warning: smut (don’t read if you’re under the age of 18) jealousy, light angst, pouty Garrick.

Masterlist

One thing Garrick used to pride himself on was the fact that he wasn’t the jealous type. He thought it was stupid that people felt that way and that they should just communicate with their significant other. That changed when he noticed you spending too much time with a guy two years younger than you.

Garrick had a scowl on his face as he watched Ridoc poking your sides before you playfully shoved him away. “What’s got you in a sour mood,” Xaden asked, which caused Garrick to finally look away from you and Ridoc.

“I don’t like how comfortable Gamlyn is with my girlfriend,” Garrick replied as they began to walk towards you, Violet, and the rest of Violet’s friends.

Xaden let out an involuntary laugh at his best friend's explanation, but immediately stopped when he noticed Garrick was glaring at him, “I’m sorry, but you being jealous of Ridoc is fucking hilarious.”

Garrick merely grumbled before making his way over to you and pulling you into a heated kiss in front of everyone. “I thought you hated PDA,” you gave Garrick an amused look.

“Not anymore. I want people to know that you’re my girlfriend and that you are off limits,” Garrick glared at Ridoc at the last part before the two of you disappeared into his room.

That went on for weeks. Every time Garrick would see you hanging out with Ridoc after coming back from a supply run, he would whisk you away from the group, and proceed to lock both of you in his room. Your mutual friends would tease Garrick about his sudden need for PDA. Especially when he would shut down girls he’s slept with in the past who tried to pull what he was currently doing. Garrick would just roll his eyes and continue his actions.

Garrick also thought he was managing his jealousy until Xaden made a joke that made him snap, “You better be careful Garrick or Ridoc will steal your girl.” 

Ridoc, wanting to be funny, draped his arm around your shoulder and caused Garrick to slam his fist against the table. “Get your fucking hands off my girlfriend,” Garrick growled at Ridoc.

“Dude, I was fucking joking,” Ridoc threw his hands up in the air and leaned far away from you.

“Garrick, let’s go,” you got up and dragged Garrick out of the dining hall and headed straight to his room.

Once inside, Garrick apologized for his outburst and explained why he did what he did. A smile spread across your face at your boyfriend's explanation as to why he had been in a bad attitude, “Sweetie, I can’t believe you were actually jealous of Ridoc.”

“No, I wasn’t. I have nothing to be jealous of; I know I’m more attractive than him, and you definitely wouldn’t leave me for him,” Garrick tried to keep a stern look on his face as he answered but was starting to crack when you made your way towards him.

Garrick watched intently as you climbed into his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I was interested in another guy. Since I can’t go on supply runs with you guys, Xaden asked me to watch over Violet to ensure she doesn’t get killed. I didn’t expect to become friends with her friends, but the more I spent time with them, the more I realized I have things in common with them.”

“Of course, Xaden would be behind all of this,” Garrick mumbled while placing his hands on your lower back, “But did you really have to develop a friendship with the most annoying guy Violet’s friends with? Why couldn’t you have become friends with Sawyer? You’re already friends with Liam. Please hang out with him more than Ridoc.”

You found yourself laughing at Garrick’s response. “Ridoc’s not that bad,” you replied and began to leave open mouth kisses all over Garrick’s jaw. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

“You already know what you need to do,” Garrick placed his hands on your lower back and started moving you against him, causing him to get hard under you.

A smile spread across your face at realizing what he wanted, so you planted one last kiss on his jaw before you got off and knelt before him. “Let me show you how much I love you Gare,” you grinned at your boyfriend while undoing his pants pulled them down enough until his cock sprung free. 

“You have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen,” you whimpered as you began to run your tongue against his cock before taking it into your mouth.

Garrick wanted more than anything to question you on how many cocks you’ve seen. Instead, let out a low groan at your action and let his head fall back as you began to suck on his cock. Since you knew Garrick like the back of your hand, you knew exactly what to do to make him a whimpering mess. “I’m going to cum if you don’t stop right now,” Garrick stared down at you in awe as you took his entire length in your mouth while massaging his balls.

That only encouraged you to continue what you were doing but at a faster pace. That, in turn, caused Garrick to grip your head, and he thrust into your mouth. “Gods, I love those sounds you make. You’re so eager to swallow my cum, aren’t you, y/n? ” Garrick groaned at the sound of you gagging but kept his pace until he felt himself cumming down your throat.

“Mmhmm,” you moaned as you eagerly swallowed Garrick’s cum.

Garrick didn’t let you catch your breath from fucking your throat before he had you both naked and on all fours on his bed. “Do you think Ridoc would be able to fuck you the way I do?” Garrick asked while he set a fast pace.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m going to have to fuck him to find out,” you smirked while responding.

That response caused Garrick to stop mid-thrust and begin to pull out. As soon as his tip was only inside you, you began to apologize, “Garrick, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It was a stupid joke. I don’t want to fuck Ridoc, I want to-”

Your words were cut off by Garrick thrusting back inside you but set an agonizingly slow pace. “Are you sure?” Garrick teased, “I can bring him here to you if you want. You can fuck him and then decide who’s better at fucking you.”

“No,” you cried out, “I only want you and your cock.”

Garrick had a smug grin on his face at cries and decided to stop tormenting you, “Keep going, Garrick. I’m almost there,” you panted as Garrick thrust into you faster.

“Fuck. I love how you fucking feel around my cock,” Garrick groaned as he felt you tightening around his cock. With a few more thrusts, Garrick found himself cumming inside you, with you cumming a few seconds later. “That’s it, fucking shout my name. Fuck,” Garrick continued to thrust while you cried out his name in ecstasy.

Garrick continued to thrust into you until you forcefully had to push him off of you because you were becoming overstimulated. “You could have just told me to stop. There was no need to violently push me away,” Garrick teased before he laid down and pulled you into his embrace.

“We both know you would not have stopped if I had asked you to,” you huffed out before burring your face against his neck. Garrick laughed softly because he knew you were right, “Please come to me the next you ever get jealous of me being around another guy. You know I do when other girls try to get in your pants, even when I’m right next to you.”

Garrick winced at your request because he realized you’d been in his position before, but unlike him, you didn’t explode on the girls who hit on him. You trusted that he would turn them down immediately. So, he should have trusted that if Ridoc did try to steal you away from him. That you would have shut him down immediately, “I promise, and I’m sorry for my behavior these past few weeks. I’ll apologize to Ridoc later today.”

“Don’t,” you replied while leaving hickeys all over his neck, “He pissed me off this morning, so he deserves to squirm a little bit before you apologize to him.” 

Garrick couldn’t help but laugh at your request but replied, “Whatever makes you happy, my love.”

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 1

~~~

Author’s Note: I have barely been writing anything (I usually write for the Good Omens fandom) since I started playing BG3, but then a few days ago I felt compelled to start on *something* for this fandom that has completely taken over my mind. I usually post on AO3 but for some reason I wanted to post a first teaser-chapter here on Tumblr.

So here it is, my first (unbeta’d) venture into the BG3 fandom. I have no idea where this is going except that the endgame is a happy ending for Tav and Astarion.

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (Mild?) angst, pining, pining while fucking

Summary: You thought knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only… Now you do.

~~~

You watch him laugh as Shadowheart leans closer to whisper something in his ear, and the unwarranted jealousy that has your chest aching leaves a sour taste in your mouth. He may be sharing your bed now and then, but you have no right to him. For all you know, he might be spending his other nights with each and everyone in your camp. And that is his prerogative; pretty words aside, Astarion has never promised you anything other than fantastic sex.

A bitter smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. You are sure he thinks he has you wrapped around his finger. That he has convinced you that this means more to him than it actually does. The sigh leaves your lips before you can stop it, but it doesn’t really matter, because none of the others hear you, too busy listening to Gale regaling another story about his ex.

Annoyed with yourself you rise, an excuse prepared on your tongue in case anyone questions your departure from the merriment. The lie remains unspoken and you’re relieved when you can slink into the shadows unnoticed. Relieved, but also perhaps a bit sad. It’s funny, you’ve spent most of your life aiming for anonymity, to stay under the radar. The unexpected friendships you’ve made since the kidnapping has unravelled all of that. Have made you aware of the dark and empty space in your heart you’ve successfully ignored until now.

Except it isn’t empty anymore.

It happened gradually, and without your permission. A dashing pale rogue stealing your affection when you weren’t looking. Because yes, while you know that his only reason for talking his way into your bed was manipulation, he has unintentionally shown you glints of his real self during your time together. He’s a complicated mess, just like yourself, and you love him. Love everything about him, even though it hurts.

So maybe he has you wrapped around his finger after all, because if you had any sense, you would end this thing between you. You should, but you are a selfish being. One day Astarion will realise that he doesn’t need to use sex to feel safe with you, but until that day comes, you will greedily accept every scrap of attention he gives you.

“Pathetic.”

“Talking to yourself, darling? Or have you made another furry friend when I wasn’t looking?” Astarion gracefully — why is that even when he’s pleasantly drunk, the elf manages to appear graceful? — sits down next to you in the grass. “You already have three of them in the camp, surely that’s enough?”

“Three?” You try to gather your thoughts, but it’s difficult when he is this close to you. “Scratch, the owlbear cub, and…?”

“Halsin, of course.”

“Of course,” you repeat dumbly. True, the druid was in his bear form when you first met, but something in Astarion’s demeanour makes you suspect that that isn’t what he meant. Images of Astarion undressing Halsin floods your mind. Halsin is a handsome and powerful man, so it would make sense for Astarion to seduce him too. Just like he had with you.

“Why are we sitting here, by the way?” Astarion shifts to lean on one hand, his face tilted back to take in the full moon. “Wanted a more romantic setting than your tent this time, darling?”

Oh. So you are the chosen one for the night. You were certain it would be Shadowheart, considering.

“Are you alright, Tav?”

For a moment you let yourself believe that the hesitation you hear in his voice is founded on genuine concern. That he truly cares beyond the deep-seated need for self-preservation ingrained in him. But the illusion can only last so long. You know enough of his history not to hold his actions against him, but right now you’re not in a headspace to pretend that everything is fine. And yet, you try.

“Of course I am.” You hold back a flinch when you hear the acid lacing your words like a toxin. It gives too much away, so you do the only thing you can think of. Your hands are already grabbing fabric before you have finished your thought, pulling him closer before he has time to examine your statement too closely. Before he can figure out your lie.

The night air is cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the hot mouth claiming yours. You might regret it tomorrow, but right now, this is exactly what you need. In Astarion’s arms, you can forget everything but him and what he gives you. Around other people he can seem petty and cruel, but when he’s with you like this… this is different.

Or least that’s what you tell yourself. You cling to the illusion that this is special, and you succeed — until you feel yourself leaning your head to the side, offering your neck.

Astarion doesn’t ask it of you, he never does. It’s always you that wordlessly gives him what you believe is what he truly wants.

And this time it reminds you that deep down, this is just a transactional act for Astarion. Nothing else. He doesn’t care about you, not really.

After you’re both sated, you drift off to sleep without meaning to. It has been a taxing day, both physically and mentally, and the last thing you see is Astarion looking down at you with an indiscernible expression in his red eyes. Almost as if you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. Except that doesn’t make any sense, because to you it feels like he saw right through you the first time you met.

Some time later, you’re vaguely aware of strong arms lifting you from the damp grass. You must’ve made some noise, because you feel a warm breath against your ear.

“Hush, my darling, you don’t want the others to wake up.”

Exhaustion drags you back under, and when you next wake up, you’re in your tent. Alone.

~~~

[kyokutsu-sama]

Hey being a big black clover fan I'm being obsessed with your blog 😁

I was wondering if you could do magic captains x a reader who is very blunt about their feelings when confessing to them. You can include other characters besides the captains if you want

For context reader is a very blunt person who just drops random bombshells out of nowhere when you least expect it. During a private meeting between reader and the captain discussing the latest mission reader out of nowhere says "I think your hot and that I love you. Wanna go on a date?" with a blank face.

I hope you have a good day or night whenever time you read this ask 🖤🍀

Hii!! I'm glad you like my blog. I try to inspire myself every day to bring more content here and to all my followers❤️

Your request made me create a lot of funny scenarios in my head for them and that was really good to write. I was supposed to post sooner but in the meantime I ended up getting sick and it wasn't possible🥲

I hope you like, I added Julius and Asta in this one.

_____________________________

Yami:

Although you are quite blunt about your feelings and thoughts, the captain can be very oblivious to all of this. He simply doesn't care about details or words. He is a man of actions. Your feelings were gaining more strength every day and you wondered if he could see the way you looked at him at all times, whether on missions or in everyday life. But after so many signs you gave and he didn't see, one day, after a long mission, you don't hesitated. "Damn, I'm exhausted!" The captain fell onto the couch with a long sigh "Man, you get ten times hotter when you fight." You said, walking past him to go get a drink and he looked at you, being taken by surprise by the words. "I think I'm going to have to invite you on a date, one of these days. "You said it so naturally that you managed to get a laugh from this man "Looks like someone's feeling bold today." He joked "Actually, I was just confessing my feelings to you." "Feelings? I always thought you hadn't them, since you were like a beast during missions." He scratched his nape and you giggled "I thought you liked strong women." You said, approaching him "And I do." He took a drag on his cigarette, looking at you "So, it looks like we have something in common. You like strong women like me and I like strong men like you, how about we form a couple?" You asked, being blunt again and he laughed as he found it funny the way you took things so casually "Damn, you're really embarrassing me here with the way you say things." He put out his cigarette and stood up to face you. "But I mean, you're really my type so I think we should go on a date as you mentioned." "So that's a yes?" You smiled at him "Yes, that's a yes, idiot." He smiled, patting the top of your head

Fuegoleon:

Fuegoleon is already a little different from the captain above as he is very perceptive. But he confuses professional love with the other type of love that you're feeling and that's why he ends up thinking that all those things you say are just a joke to maintain a good relationship between you, as a member of Crimson Lion and him, as the captain. Both Mereoleona and Leopold, had already realized that it wasn't that and that you were very into him. Mereoleona had already tried to open his eyes about this but they both ended up fighting as always. You found out from the captain's younger brother that he was working in the office and you went there to meet him to confess to him, once and for all and it was a good opportunity, since it was just you two alone. "You always have so much work to do." You said, closing the door and approaching the table "Unfortunately, but it is my duty and I must fulfill my duties as a good captain."He said, arranging the papers and paying attention to you."Do you want to tell me something, Y/n? Or did you just pass by?" "Well, actually it's both, since I was passing by and when I found out that you were here, I wanted to come in and tell you a few things." "Such as?" "Captain, I think I'm in love with you." You said and he shivered, not expecting such words from you. You weren't nervous about saying your feelings but he seemed confused. "Well, uhm...I mean, it's normal, like...We went on missions together and maybe this feeling of respect and appreciation for me as captain grew and--" "Captain, this has nothing to do with professional aspects," You placed yourself between him and the table and he stared at you without words. "I'm in love with you because I think you're a wonderful man and I'm very inspired by you because you simply do my type." The captain's lips couldn't help but form a little smile, he felt flattered and proud of you and your feelings. After all, those things they said weren't just a way of talking or to maintain good relations between knight and captain...- he thought. "My dear Y/n, I promise to be a good man for you and continue to do my best for you so these feelings grow." He kissed one of your hands and you smiled at him. He would definitely do whatever it took to protect and honor them. Leopold, who was listening to the conversation behind the office door, couldn't help but jump with joy, in the middle of the corridor, over what he had just heard.

William:

He is the biggest cinnamon roll in the entire Clover kingdom and everyone knows so having someone blunt to confess their feelings to him might catch him a little by surprise at first. You admired him so much, the kind and warm way he treated everyone in the golden dawn made you gain feelings, the same ones that grew every day, especially when you two were together. One day, William invited you to have tea with him on his day off and you agreed to go. Little did he know what was coming. "Here you go." He said, handing you the cup and you thanked him You drank the tea and after putting the cup aside, you looked at him, admiring every detail of his face. The captain had already stopped wearing the mask and you could have a beautiful view of the scar that marked his entire forehead. They could say whatever they wanted about it but you found it attractive and there was no point in hiding it. "Your scar make you more attractive, you know?" You pointed out and he choked a little "You say it often," William smiled at you."And I thank you for that." "Yeah, I don't make a point of hiding how I feel and anyway, thank you for inviting me to spend time with you, I really enjoy moments like this." You smiled "No need to thank me, I also like these simple and occasional meetings and since we can't have them every day, I think we should take advantage of the opportunities and I like being with the members of the Golden dawn. They are a great source of pride for me." He said, bringing the tea to his lips and you blushed a little at the generosity with which he spoke about the other magic knights. Words that warmed your heart. "That's why I admire you, captain, I love the way you treat the people in your squad. Your kindness and affection inspires me a lot, you know? And there are probably more people who are inspired too, not just me." You said and he smiled tenderly. "I even think I could marry you because you're such a good and amazing man." You said in a casually way and he spat out the tea, coughing a few times and you patted him on the back. "Oh my God, are you okay lov--I mean, captain?" You corrected yourself, unable to hide the blush on your cheeks "Yes, I'm fine, I'm fine..." He said, composing himself "I didn't say anything bad, did I?" "I don't think so but...what did you mean by marriage?" He looked at you with a confused expression and you giggled "William, what I really meant to say is that I love you and that your whole way of being makes me want to marry you, but you don't have to accept it, I mean, I just confessed."You smiled and he laughed "I understand, I'm happy to know that. You're also an incredible person and I really like you." He caressed your face and you blushed twice as much."Maybe someday we'll get married but...Don't you really care about this here?"He pointed to the mark "I've said it many times but I'll say it again, that scar makes you too hot and it doesn't bother me at all." You said and he chuckled, blushing a little too "If you say, then, I will take your word for it."

Julius:

Julius is a curious and experienced man, he can read people like no one else and let's not forget that this man has predictions and they never fail. You are someone very close to him and who he admires a lot, firstly for the simple fact that you are someone from Clover, the kingdom that he offers to protect every day and just like all the inhabitants there, you are proud of him. You, on the other hand, always try to strike up a conversation with him and stay close to him just so you can look at his beautiful, tender eyes and his posture while he performs his duties (of course this only happens when Marx is around*cof cof*🤧) And on one of his secret getaways, he spotted you and went to talk to you. You welcomed him with a smile and agreed to take him for a walk around the castle. Julius took you to the highest point of the castle and sat on the roof with you while you watched the sunset. You looked at him, seeing his eyes half closed in the sunlight and gave a small smile. It turns out that you didn't contain your intrusive thoughts and said more than you should have. "Julius..." "What?" "You're looking really hot now, you know? I mean, you already are, but now you're more so. I'm falling in love right now." You confessed and he couldn't contain a smile The wizard king put his arm over your shoulder, giving you a light squeeze and you shivered, feeling a blush on your cheeks. "You're pretty blunt when it comes to feelings, aren't you, Y/n?" "Yeah, I don't think that's a problem, is it?" "Of course not, I like it when people are direct about what they think and that's okay. Anyway, I already knew you liked me but I didn't know it was so much that you were blushing like that." Julius laughed poking one of your cheeks and you laughed along Just Julius being Julius

Asta:

This boy can be even more oblivious than his captain (No wonder these two make an incredible duo) Finral and Vanessa were the first to notice the way you spoke to him and you even tried to fan the flames a little but nothing worked, until the day you spoke to Asta and invited him on a date. He was so oblivious that he didn't even question why you wanted to go out with him, without anyone knowing. He just accepted it with his usual wide smile. But both Finral and Vanessa, were listening to the conversation and prepared to go out that night to the same place as you but without you two knowing. You arrived at the agreed location and were surprised to see him already sitting, waiting for you. "Wow, you were quick!" You said, pulling the chair to sit in front of him. "I was waiting for you, I'm glad you arrived safely!" He waved at you with that bright and optimistic smile that he always had on his face and that you loved "Me too, I was wanting to spend some time with you. You've been spending a lot of time training and we barely see each other." "I know but look, I've really been getting results, my muscles are growing." He said, flexing his arms and you rolled your eyes since it was already a typical habit of his Finral and Vanessa were watching the two of you from afar and were laughing at the scene. These two were hoping things would work out because they are literally "the cupids" of black bulls. "So Y/n, how have your days been?" Asta asked with a mouth full of food "Like you, I've also been training a lot and I've been doing well but that's not what I want to talk about." You looked into his big green eyes. "Asta, I'm in love with you and it's something serious, like... I think we would make a good couple." You said with a blank face and he choked on his food and you quickly went to help him. "Asta, are you okay?" You crouched down next to him and while he hit the chest for food to come down."Oh my God, someone bring water!!"You shouted and the attendant quickly arrived with a mug of water that Asta drank in one go The friends who were watching the scene from afar, were in shock, thinking that the boy was going to choke to death on his confession. "IN LOVE WITH ME?!!! LIKE, DO YOU WANT TO DATE ME?" He shouted scandalized and the whole restaurant looked at both of you. You sighed and dragged him outside so you could get away from all those people. The other ran after you to see how it would end. "Well, you're right. I love you and I think you're incredible, from your personality to all those muscles you carry, every one of them." You confessed again, already outside the establishment "REALLY?! THANK YOU Y/N!" The boy's eyes lit up and he hugged you, spinning you in his arms as you screamed "ASTA, PUT ME DOWN!!" You asked and he did it right away He looked at you for a moment and that was when you noticed his gaze getting a little more serious since it was about your feelings for him. Asta climbed onto a street bench and you were confused by the action but soon after you realized it. "Y/N! I'M GOING TO BECOME YOUR BOYFRIEND AND BECOME THE WIZARD OF CLOVER AND MAKE YOU VERY HAPPY, THE HAPPIEST WOMAN IN THE WHOLE KINGDOM!!" He shouted for everyone to hear and you smiled, proud of his words Vanessa and Finral hugged and celebrated after witnessing their friend's declaration of love.