#and also a little bit bc he lives in the woods

[thatssroughbuddy]

Just saw pics of Jet from the live action and his hair looks too fluffy and well maintained. He looks like he knows what shampoo is

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Love Game

DI!Single!Dad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You hear a glimpse of Leon's relationship with his daughter. And later he makes you a proposal you just can't refuse

Warnings: mild sexual content, still minors dni, brief phone sex, allusions to sex, Leon has a mouth on his as always, bit of soft!dom leon, mostly Leon being a soft dad on this one, foul language (as always), no use of y/n

WC: 3k

A/N: so I'm totally in love with this dynamic! And yalls support was insane. I literally wrote two separate drafts of a continuation of these two and whichever I finished first was gonna be posted, so the light smut one won bc I'm tired atm and didn't feel like sitting in front of my computer for 6 hours🙃 so this short part will have a second part to it with full spicy time. And another standalone part with these two (coffee and other things) having some more spicy time is also in the works, so stay tuned. Besitos <3

Universe Masterlist

Leon blinked slowly, his eyes now starting to grow sore from staring at the bright computer screen for so long. But he just hadn't had time to finish this stupid report. Sure, he has had two whole days to get it done, but with a tiny human clinging to his arm every waking minute, it was a bit more complicated than he thought. But he couldn't possibly ignore his little girl when he barely had the time to be with her without having to worry about stopping some mad scientist with too much time in their hands. He didn't mind though. His little girl was more important than anything else. 

Still, he took advantage of the little window of time he had now. He had given Isabella dinner a little over an hour ago. Then left her in the dining room to finish her homework. She had always been a smart girl, responsible with her homework, she never fussed when he asked her to do it, so it didn't worry him in the slightest to leave her to do her own thing. She tended to get distracted when he was around anyway. 

Though, maybe an hour had gone by when he heard tiny feet pad bare through the wood floors and he saw a mess of chocolate brown strands sticking from its bun peek above his computer screen. He slowly lowered the screen until it was almost shut and he was met with a pair of sapphire eyes that were a replica of his own. He raised an eyebrow at her. 

"Daddy." She took a step closer to him, her eyes big like she wanted to ask him something. 

Leon sat up fully, setting his laptop aside and nodded at her, giving her his full attention now. "What's up bee?" 

"Can I.. uhm.. I can play with your switch now?" She asked, dark lashes batting as she fiddled with her hands. As if she had to give him puppy dog eyes for him to say yes. He kept his face serious though. 

"You wanna play on my switch?" She nodded. He ran his fingers over his light stubble as if he was thinking real hard, he pursed his lips in thought. "I dunno hun, did you finish your homework?" 

"How did you know I had homework?" She asked with an adorable frown on her face, it took Leon all of his willpower not to break then. 

"Well I do now." He slipped a smile and she pouted. He couldn't help but chuckle at his little girl. He took her in his arms and sat her on his lap. "Well I knew before. Wanna know how?" 

Her head perked up. "How?" 

Leon leaned into her ear with a smile, "'Cause dads know everything about their little girls." He pressed a kiss to the side of her hair and set her back on her feet. "But yeah, Miss Pretty Teacher told me." 

"That's cheating!" She whipped her head around with a gasp and glared at him. He again couldn't hide his laugh. 

"Yeah alright, you caught me," he raised his hands up at her in surrender. "You can play on the switch for a bit. Do you remember how to turn it on?" 

Izzy proudly nodded and skipped over to the large TV hooked up to the living room. The TV had been on, nothing playing, but just on, since Leon had intended to play some white noise in the background but never actually loaded up anything. He switched to the right input as he watched Izzy turn on the Switch. It took her a second to remember how, but she was happily skipping back to the couch with the controllers as the loading screen came up before Leon could get up to help. He shook his head to himself, but he puffed out a breath when Izzy jumped on his lap, rather hard, the little girl giggling when he groaned. 

"Jesus Christ, when did you get so big?" He chuckled, fixing her on his lap so she wouldn't fall and watched as she scrolled through the games until she found Mario Kart. 

"I turned seven in October, remember?" She piped up, genuinely reminding him of such an important date, as if he would ever forget. He nodded. 

"I know, Izzy. I took you to Dave and Busters with Amara, remember?" 

"Oh. Yeah, you're right. That was fun. We should go again sometime! Please daddy?" She turned her head to look at him with this smile on her face and her big blue eyes. 

God, what did he ever do to deserve this kid? 

He pressed his lips to her forehead and nodded. 

"'Course. I'll talk to Amara's mom, okay?" 

He watched as Izzy excitedly nodded and cheered happily before she got lost in the game in front of her. He didn't mind her having screen time. It wasn't like she had an iPad glued to her face twenty-four-seven. He let her play once or twice a week, and maybe a third if he was feeling like playing with her. And she was more than happy to spend that time with her dad. 

Tonight he wasn't really feeling playing, so he watched her do her best. To her, she was the biggest winner there ever was, throwing turtle shells and bombs at practically nothing and hitting the wall with every curve, but she had fun with it, so he let her be, cheering her on whenever she finished a race, even if it was in ninth or eighth place. 

Maybe thirty minutes had passed when he felt his phone buzz beside him. He took his eyes away from the colorful screen to look at his phone. It lit up with a text, and his smile grew wide at the name. 

My pretty teacher. 

He grabbed his phone and quickly opened the conversation. You had been texting back and forth all day, for days now, after what he considered a perfect first date, but he just hadn't gotten around to match your schedule to plan another date. So you had resorted to texting and maybe calling once here and there. But God, he was really missing you right about now.

My pretty teacher: sorry, I went to dinner with my mom and sister. And I just got home. Hru? 

He bit his lip as he attempted to type into his phone one handed. 

Me: It's fine. I'm ok. With izzy. 

My pretty teacher: awww🥰 

Me: Can you call? I'm texting with one hand at the moment. 

You saw the message, and he could see the three text bubbles appear and disappear. Until they didn't come back. He mentally grimaced at himself, maybe the idea of talking to him while Isabella was there made you uncomfortable? Shit. He hadn't thought about that. Christ, he hadn't dated in so long he had forgotten that being a single dad wasn't exactly the biggest turn on. No matter how much one liked kids. 

His anxiety riddled brain stopped racing when he saw your contact name pop up on his screen as his phone started ringing. He grinned to himself. He glanced at Izzy— her full attention was still on her game, he shrugged and answered the call. He set his phone down, still having one ear bud in from when he was working on his laptop. 

"Hey Miss." He spoke first, his heart racing in his chest a bit. 

"Hi Leon." He could hear the smile in your voice. That shy smile he thought was the prettiest thing. 

"You busy?" He asked, still a bit worried he was interrupting you in the middle of something. Though the indistinct sound of TV playing in the background let him know that maybe you weren't that busy. 

"Not really. I got home a little bit ago so I was just about to run myself a bath." You answered, walking back and forth between your bedroom and the bathroom connected to it. "You?"

Leon tried his hardest not to think about your words too much. Not right now. 

"Nah. Just watching Izzy play on my switch. She's kicking ass in Mario Kart." He heard you blurt out a giggle, which made him chuckle, but what made him actually laugh was Izzy shooting him a frown over her shoulder. 

"Daddy, that's a no-no word." 

Leon snapped his head down at Izzy and he frowned, not sure if he heard her correctly, "What's that bee?" 

"I said that's a bad word."

"What is?" 

"Ass." 

Leon almost snorted at the way she said the word. With a frown and her lips pursed. He didn't care if she said bad words or not. He sure as hell said them all the time, but he encouraged her not to repeat what he said, in front of other people, at least. He narrowed his eyes at her. 

"So don't say it. I'm an adult. I can say them." When she kept looking at him, he placed a hand on top of her head and —gently— turned her head back towards the TV screen, despite her protest. "Keep playing your game, Isabella. Or you can't sit on my lap anymore." 

All Leon could hear was you attempting to muffle your laughter, but he could hear your giggles loud and clear. He only rolled his eyes, but he had a tiny smile of his own. 

"C'mon don't laugh, being a parent is hard. Are you the one teaching her this no-no bull— B.S?" He caught himself, closing his eyes when you laughed even more, now not even bothering to hide it. 

"I have to! I have a swear jar, I'm sorry. I gotta set an example." 

He actually laughed at this, remembering the mouth you had on you when he had you on his bed. 

"Yeah, well, you weren't so pure and innocent when you were screaming—" He caught himself again, his own eyes widening when he remembered Isabella was right there and he sighed out softly. "Give me an hour and I'll give you the answer you deserve, Miss." 

You stayed quiet for a second, not because he offended you, but because you needed a second to breathe and control the heat that flashed between your legs at his insinuation. You exhaled deeply before responding. 

"You're what again? Playing Switch with Izzy? 

Leon hummed in response. "She is. She's sitting on my lap so I'm being forced to watch." 

"I'm not forcing you!"

"On your game, Isabella. Stop listening to my conversation." 

"Does she have her own Switch or something?" You asked, now sitting on the edge of your bathtub as hot water poured from the faucet. 

"No. It's my Switch. But I leave it in the living room so she can play sometimes." He answered you with a shrug you obviously couldn't see. 

You chuckled softly, "How old are you again?" 

"Thirty-eight, but that's besides the point. I barely have time to use the thing. I mostly bought it for Izzy." He wasn't lying— entirely. He sometimes played, late at night by himself when he wanted to drown himself in a bottle of whiskey. He would choose to play a game to blow off steam instead of getting drunk with his little girl sleeping in the next room or passing out drunk at some shitty bar. 

"I'm very convinced by that." You snorted, making him sigh out at you.

"Hmph. Whatever. You wouldn't understand how cathartic throwing green turtle shells at tiny cars can be." 

"Oh I bet." 

"Daddy?" You heard Isabella's voice through the phone and your heart warmed.

Leon looked down at Izzy, "Yeah?" 

"Who are you talking to?" She asked with genuine curiosity, her very glorious race tournament now over and her attention was on him. 

He heard you go silent, most likely having heard the little girl and he sighed out, his eyes landing up on the ceiling for a second as he thought of his answer. 

"Just a friend, bee." He ultimately decided on that answer. It wasn't that he was ashamed of being with you, not at all, but Izzy was still young, and even he knew there had to be a proper introduction of you outside of your teacher role. He actually wanted to do this the right way.

"You fuck my brains out last week and I'm just a friend now?" He heard you comment in his ear and he groaned out. 

"C'mon, that's not fair." He leaned back into the couch, his forearm over his eyes now as he basically had two women all over him, pressing him with way too many questions for his liking. 

"I'm just giving you a hard time, Leon. I get it." There was humor in your voice, lightheartedness and even though he couldn't see you, he had a feeling you had that gentle smile on your lips. That eased the pressure on his chest. 

"Listen sweetheart, it's almost Izzy's bedtime," His eyes were on Izzy now, and with his eyes he was nudging at her to start wrapping up her game. She pouted, but didn't otherwise fuss. "Call you in an hour?" 

You both had this dumb, lovesick smile on your face, if only you could see the other.

"I'll be up."

The warm water, the foaming body wash and the intoxicating smell of your favorite candle had done wonders to relax you. When you left the bathtub you felt like a whole new person. Though there still this tug of butterflies in your stomach as you anxiously waited for Leon to call you. 

You sat on the edge of the tub, warm and fluffy robe wrapped around your naked body as you mindlessly scrolled through your social media for a little while before you decided to check out for the night. You nearly slipped right off the tile when your phone buzzed and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine. 

"Hey, sorry about, y’know, earlier. Izzy and I are like that." You smiled at the sound of Leon's voice, now a bit hushed but more relaxed and carefree, like he now could say whatever the fuck he wanted. 

"It's okay. It was cute, hearing how you talk to her. You're sweet." You smiled to yourself, and you could hear him breathe out a soft laugh, most likely a bit flustered by your words, but he otherwise didn't show it. "You put her to sleep though?" 

"Yeah, I stayed with her 'til she fell asleep. I'm in my bedroom now, about to take a shower." He said the words slowly, with purpose, like he wanted you to think about it like he had been thinking about you, taking that bath. "So, you take your bath yet?" 

"Yeah, it was nice. I definitely needed it. I could've used some company though." You bit your lip, testing his reaction. There was silence, then he hummed. 

"Yeah? That so?" Now it was your turn to hum in agreement, your legs instinctively closing as you tried to soothe the ache between your thighs. "I'm sure you could've. Would've been nice to have someone hold you, right? Have someone leave kisses on your wet skin, say how good you're doing while getting your pretty pussy fingered?" 

You couldn't hold back the moan that left your throat at his words, and your free hand instantly traveled down, stopping at your belly. 

"Oh, that's a sound I'll never get tired of hearing. Fuck, you're already moaning for me and I'm not even there to give you a reason." He exhaled out a chuckle, his hardening cock starting to press against his sweatpants. 

"Fuck, I really wish you were here." You sighed out, your hand itching closer towards your already wet cunt, but you knew it wasn't your touch you ached for. It was Leon's. 

"Yeah? Why's that?" 

You whined softly, your phone almost slipping off your grip as your head fell to the side. "Leon…" 

"Tell me." 

"Because… I really, really, need you to touch me, hold me, ugh— I just need you to fuck me, Leon." 

Leon clenched his fist as his side, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he listened to your desperate words, and the sound shot straight to his cock. Fuck, he'd be lying if he said he didn't need you, too. 

"Goddamn baby," He grunted softly, his hand now brushing the front of his sweats, where his cock strained against the material, and he tried to muffle the sound between his teeth, but you heard it anyway. "You have no fucking idea how much I've been wanting to ruin that pussy of yours again. It's actually driving me crazy." 

You shuddered, the ache between your legs starting to become unbearable. "I really want to see you too, baby." 

Leon closed his eyes, biting his lip raw as he thought fuck it. He could explain in the morning. 

"Fuck it, just fuck it. Wanna take the drive here? I swear I'll give you exactly what you need and it'll be so worth it." 

You'd like to think you were a rational person, you always thought things through twice, three times if necessary. You didn't take risks, much less acted in a way that could be considered immoral, but for Leon? Fuck, for that man you would become the biggest whore in this world if it meant he would take you just one more time. 

"Be there in thirty." 

Fuck it. 

Sneak peek of A Love Game Part II, coming soon

His lips were hard on your own, messy on your jaw, like he didn't know which part he wanted to kiss more. Your fingers were entangled in his perfectly soft honey brown strands, already melting under his touch. His hand came up under your jaw to grip your face in place, long fingers sprawled out over your neck. He pulled you back by your face and his eyes were hard on you, with this mixture of authority and utter need to fuck you. He could be both. 

"This is how this is gonna be. I'm going to throw you on that bed and fuck you the way you deserve. But I better not hear a single fucking sound leave those pretty lips of yours. Not tonight. Got it?"

Stay tuned for upcoming parts lovelies. Besitos<3

[after-hours-in-the-library]

Guess I got to start this blog somewhere

How would they react to waking up with a boner next to you 

For some reason I can't really write lighthearted things for Alan, sigh

Not really nsfw but kinda suggestive?

If earth could swallow them they would accept it in a heartbeat. 

Poor sweet Kaito is the first one I think that would accidentally get too excited to be sleeping next to his SO and get hard. He is already suffering, don't look at him disgusted, he WILL cry.

Luca is startled like it's the first time happening, apologizing for putting you in an awkward situation. Pat his shoulder and tell him it's alright.

Alan still has some kind of complex of seeing himself as too worn out, a killer and a criminal, and in contrast seeing his partner in a much better light. When he gets hard while sleeping together he almost feels like when he is cleaned the blood off of his fists after an underground fight, whatever rag he grabbed now tainted too.

Sweet baby Subaru feels oh, so bad at the slightest feeling he might be imposing himself on you at any point, be it date plans, shared activities or what to eat for dinner. He removes himself out of the  situation and sends a three paragraph long text apologizing and understanding if you want to break up and not see him anymore.

Doesn't make a big deal out it if you don't react badly

Sho reads books, even if it doesn't look like it, and knows that morning wood usually doesn't happen because of sexual stimuli. Sho also gets a bit bashful at having woken next to you like that, tsk-ing at your teases while he looks away.

‘boys are just like that' Haku might cover with a pillow if you feel uncomfortable or awkward but he will be cracking jokes about the situation to lighten up the mood.

Is like ‘whatever’ and doesn't do anything to hide it

Jin, as nonchalant as ever, doesn't think much about it, he might go to the bathroom and fix his problem if you fuss a bit but otherwise he will stay lying down listening to music.

Towa is a free spirit and rarely cares about morals or common decency, doing as he pleases most of the time, it's no wonder he looks curious when you get surprised at the tent in his pants.

Ed decides it isn't that big of a deal, when you live for so long some insecurities and things you get embarrassed about start mattering less and less. 

Even if Subaru did his best teaching him, Lyca doesn't understand many human sensibilities, like not smelling people or yelling when someone talks smack, it's no wonder he almost seems surprised at your reaction 

Makes you feel like you are the weird one for even noticing 

Leo, the little bitch he always is, will find a way to make it awkward, be it saying you are a perv for looking far down to accuse you of planning it.

Ren is a somewhat mixed case bc on one hand he makes you feel like the weirdo ‘why are you so interested in my groin. Sexual harassment’ but on the other he is internally crying at how awkward it's.

Good luck even getting into that situation 

If you think you can catch Thoma off guard nice try —at least so early into the relationship— he prides himself in being able to act the part of a gentleman so even if it happened you wouldn't wake up or even notice.

Haru is too tired, too busy and doesn't have enough time to cuddle with you to sleep.

Can Zenji even get an erection?

Good luck getting Rui comfortable enough with getting close to sleep next to each other.

[djs4nddisc0s]

toby headcanons? :) sfw or nsfw I just live for him 🖤 thx!

sighhh Toby… sighh my submissive and breedable malewife…🙁🤍🎀

Of course, thank you for requesting<3! (All other asks in my inbox are being worked on btw! Remember, these are my personal headcanons, you’re allowed to disagree and these also won’t relate too much to canon. Kinda ‘realistic’. Not proofread.)

Toby Rogers sfw and nsfw Hc’s!

(SFW)

Starting off with his looks I deff agree with how shatteredankles draws him. (their art is so😻)

His style is like midwestern emo but with a bit of grunge

I like the hc of him being German, but I think he grew up in Colorado

However his mom still used the language, culture, food and stuff like that in the household

He has a small cabin in the woods that he lives in (sorry no slendermansion this time)

TERRIBLE trust issues due to his past

Craves physical touch but also is scared of it thanks to ole daddy-o🤓 (ew cringe)

That being said he loves giving physical touch but since he can’t feel pain it’s hard for him to know if he’s hurting you

He may not be able to feel pain but he can feel other sensations like pleasure or little tingles (he can bc I say so, fight me)

Smokes every once in a while but only weed

Picnic dates.

If you do your makeup he’ll watch you with all the wonder in the world

Has even let you do it on him a few times

Pretty possessive, you’re the only person outside of his sister and mother that has been so understanding and loving, the thought of you leaving terrifies him

Whenever you go out for groceries or with friends (which sadly is rare due to his attitude towards it) you have to text him with little check-in texts to ease his nerves

(NSFW)

About 7.5 inches

HAPPY TRAIL MEOOOOW😻

He used to jerk off like a teenage boy in the middle of puberty

Once he met you (before dating) he would continue to do so but just to you

Pictures, voice recordings, even on call with you a couple times

Finally once you two started dating he could try the real thing

FEM! “F-Fuck… your pussy feels f-fucking amazing..!”

MASC! “Such a g-good boy- shit! So good”

HE IS A SWITCH AND YOU CAN NOT PROVE ME WRONG‼️

Mommy/Daddy kink no questions asked

I feel like most of the pastas would have a thing for chasing you through the woods to catch you right there and ravish you right where they caught you… just silly thoughts😋

He’s deff be open to trying anything you like if it makes you happy

However he wouldn’t want to hurt you too bad if that’s what you’re into

Light degradation on both parts

Fucking AMAZING at giving head, you’ll be seeing stars

If he’s bottoming he can either be the most obedient you’ve ever had or he’s a pain in the ass brat.

I feel like even though he can’t feel the pain from edging/overstimulation it still gets him worked up

Pull his hair while he’s going down on you it lets him know he’s doing good

WHIMPERS🔥

If you’ve edged/overstimulated him too much he’ll either take control or start begging so pretty for you

Will do the same back as punishment if you kept going even if he begged

Tying your hands behind your back and PLOWING into you like it’s the last time he’ll be able to

Remember when I said he was possessive, yeah jealous sex comes from that

Also remember the makeup thing? Mascara running down your face turns him on more

Sighh I love my gf he’s such a fucking loser freak☹️

(I hope you enjoyed<3!)

[sailoryooons]

alright fuck it somebody's gotta ask for some fluff around here. i want in the soop vibes !!! but it's just you and yoongi settling into the place you've rented for a weekend away bc you're forcing him to take a break. you share expensive whiskey and he cooks for you and it's domestic and CUTE (and like it could get smutty if you waaaaant idk idk). ok love you you're doing amazing sweetie !!!

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: A cozy trip to the woods is exactly what you and Yoongi need to manage your stress. You especially love the moments when Yoongi gets to enjoy you right by the fireside. 

❀ Word Count: 2,352

❀ Genre: Fluff, established relationship, smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: Teeth-rotting fluff, Yoongi and reader are really touching but in a cutesy way, recreational drinking but no one gets drunk, explicit language, explicit sexual content including nipple play, vaginal fingering, a little bit of overstimualtion, light teasing, and a lot of WAP. 

❀ Published: August 1, 2023

❀ A/N: It’s cool it only took me an entire year to finish this request for the literal love of my entire life. And the best part? They’re now back to read it! Thank you for being my best friend and my light in the dark and the moon to my stars and also for picking oral or fingies even though I don’t know if you knew what you were picking them for skdjgndfigdh te quireo mas, mi vida. 

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Hali’s Happy Agust | Part Two |

Yoongi squeezes the back of your neck gently, making you look up from your book poised in your lap. Smoke from the grill catches on the wind and blows south, carrying the smell of sizzling meat. Yoongi doesn’t look at you, flipping pork belly with one hand while keeping his other hand on you.

“Will be ready in five,” he informs you, eyes inspecting the grilling vegetables on the top layer of the grill. “Better finish your chapter.”

You smile at that, pleased that he knows that you won’t want to get up from the chair you’ve drawn across the porch to sit next to him until you finish your chapter. Nodding, you dive back into your book, determined to finish before Yoongi’s done grilling.

It’s hard to concentrate, though. Dinner smells amazing, the smoky scent of meal and glazed veggies filling the porch. The weight and warmth of Yoongi’s hands as he kneads the muscles of your neck is comforting, Yoongi determined to keep his hold on you despite cooking.

Moments like this are few and far in between. Instead of reading, you take a second to soak it all in. Around your rented cabin is a stretch of evergreens and mountains, the blue sky turning liquid gold as the sun sets somewhere beyond the peak of the mountains. 

Evening blankets the woods around you, urging the crickets to start up their nightly hymns and birds to flit from tree to tree as they head to their nests for the night. It’s not quite autumn yet, but there’s a chill in the air at this elevation, chased away by Yoongi’s closeness and the smoking grill. 

“Come on,” he urges gently, giving you one more squeeze. “Ready.”

“I didn’t finish my chapter.”

“With all that staring into the trees, I’m not surprised. You looking for bears out there?”

“I was living in the moment. Plus, maybe a werewolf will appear.”

“Hmm. Come live in the moment with this pork before you turn into a werewolf from hunger.”

Dinner is spread out on a picnic bench table, platters of meat and vegetable skewers and steaming sides. Yoongi slides on the bench next to you, bumping your shoulder. He leans and gives you a gentle kiss on your head before turning to the food, reaching for skewers. 

You flush with warmth, smiling over at him. Having him to yourself like this is wonderful. He’s warm and calm, smelling like cedar and smoke. Leaning into him a bit, you load your plate, both of you eating in silence as you watch the sky shift through layers of gold to pink and purple. 

String lights on timers buzz above you, lighting the porch in warm, gold light. The air is chilly by the time you finish your meal, full and satiated. Together, you pick up what’s left and head inside, a shiver crawling up your spin from the breeze. 

“I’ll start a fire,” Yoongi murmurs, smacking your ass as you head to the kitchen full of plates. You squeal and he laughs, deep and throaty. 

When you’re done with the dishes, you pour two glasses of whisky. You stop just behind the couch, watching him as he stretches to spread out the corner of a blanket. There are piles of pillows surrounding him and extra blankets, a nest of his own creation in front of a warm, crackling fire. 

Yoongi looks cozy. His nose is a little red from being outside and his long hair is tucked under a beanie. He’s shed the flannel he had on earlier, now in just sweatpants and a t-shirt that stretches across his shoulders. You don’t remember when he got so broad, but your stomach does a flip as you watch him, taking in all the things you’ve missed in the last few, very stressful months.

Sensing your stare, Yoongi looks up at you. His face brightens immediately, a small smile appearing on his face. “Hi.”

“You look cozy,” you tease.

“Missing the main ingredient.” He sits down and pats the space in between his legs. “Come on.”

Giddy, you hurry over to Yoongi, who takes the glasses from your hand and sets them to the side. Yoongi leans back against the rows of pillows he’s wedged up in front of the couch, legs spread for you. You sit down gently between them, your legs kicked out in front of you as you lean back into Yoongi’s warmth.

Cedar and smoke wrap around you. You can feel Yoongi’s heart beating through your back as you melt into him, sighing. He brings his arms around you, lifting one of the glasses for you to take.

“Better,” Yoongi hums, voice like velvet. “Much better.” 

Leaning your head into the crook between his neck and shoulder, you tip your glass back, swigging the smoky, burning whisky. You make a content sound, drawing a laugh from Yoongi. The sound rumbles against you. 

“Let’s stay here forever,” you mutter, gazing at the crackling flames. “We don’t need to go back.”

“Okay.”

“Really, just like that?”

You feel him shrug behind you. “I’m always down to do what you want. If you’re a bird, I’m a bird and all that.”

“God did you watch The Notebook with Jimin again?”

Yoongi’s laughter is louder this time. “Maybe so.” 

Night stretches on and your whisky glass empties. It’s not enough to make you feel buzzed, but you feel snug in Yoongi’s arms, turning your head to press your nose against his neck. He shivers behind you and you giggle, nuzzling him further. 

Yoongi nudges the glasses further away. His hands wrap around your middle and he squeezes you, turning his head so that his mouth rests against your forehead. Your skin buzzes where his lips are pressed, warm and wet as his tongue slips out and across your forehead.

“Ewww, Yoongi!”

He laughs. “What do you mean ‘ew’? You weren’t saying ew last night when my tongue was in that pussy.” 

Yoongi’s words are heavy. They sink right through you to your core, a lick of arousal hot in your stomach as his hands drift from your waist to your thighs. Even through sweats, your skin heats up as his palms skate gently over the fabric, fingers squeezing as they go.

You squirm in his lap and Yoongi tuts, making you go boneless. Burying your face in his neck, you let his hands brush back up and under the hem of your shirt, jumping when his calloused fingers make contact with the softness of your stomach. A small sound escapes you, his tough featherlight and sending chills up your spine. 

Every drag of his touch across your skin makes you feel hotter than the fireplace in front of you. You suck in a sharp breath as he drags his fingers on the underside of your breasts, soft-slow touch driving you mad. You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing your back into him as you arch a little, unable to sit entirely still.

Yoongi just laughs, the sound like honey dripping in your ears. 

“Kiss me,” he says softly, nudging you with his head. 

It feels like your head weighs a ton when you lift it to look up at him, your world spinning. His gaze is dark, smile lazy as he leans forward, pressing your lips to his. Yoongi’s mouth is slow and decadent, sucking at your bottom lip gently before pressing his tongue against your lips.

Years ago when you’d kissed Yoongi for the first time, you knew that no one else could kiss you like this. No one else could brush their tongue against yours, making your thighs squeeze together with just the simple melding of mouths. Now, you can’t get enough of his wet mouth on yours, leaning up into him as he hum-laughs at your eagerness.

Distracted, you barely realize that his hands are cupping your tits now until his thumbs brushing gently over your hardened nipples. You gasp into his mouth and he doesn’t let up, turning the slow kiss into something a little more demanding, a little hungrier.

Yoongi could swallow you whole and you’d let him. He could burn you up from the inside out after taking you apart piece by piece and lighting you on fire.

He pinches your nipples, pleasure rippling through you. The effect reverberates to your aching cunt, thighs pressed together to relieve the throb between your legs. Too easy for him. You know it’s easy and you used to hate it, but now, as Yoongi keeps one hand tweaking a nipple and the other slides down, you love it.

Love that he works you up like this. Loves that he knows how. Love that he can give you what you want without making you beg too much for it.

Tonight, Yoongi is indulgent. His hand is sure as it slips beneath the waistband of your sweats. You part your legs for him, placing them on the outside of his spread knees. He lets out a hum of appreciation, fingers slipping between your sticky folds.

“Good girl,” he whispers. You don’t know if he means because you’re dripping for him or because you open yourself up to him without command. Maybe it’s both. “Such a wet pussy, hmm?”

You nod, dropping your mouth from his lips to his neck, your lips messy and spit-slicked against his soft skin. Your tongue darts out, laving the tender spot beneath his ear and he moans. “Please,” you ask, kissing him there. “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.”

He continues to drag his fingers up and down your pussy, careful to avoid your clit. You feel like you’re going to fall away into time and space, but it’s also not nearly enough. Your thighs squeeze, fighting the urge to shut your legs.

“You arrrre.” 

“Only a little.” 

Finally - finally - Yoongi applies pressure to your clit, circling it gently with the collected juices from your leaking entrance. You soften in his hold, complete putting as he draws fluttering gasps and breaths from you, pleasure blossoming from your pussy to your stomach. 

Biting your lip, you squirm a little in his lap. Yoongi’s legs spread a little wider, pulling your legs apart further, the stretch in your thighs pleasure-laced pain added to the stimulation. Yoongi lets go of your chest, sliding his hand down to tug at your sweats.

“Help me out, baby.” 

Lifting your ass for him, you help him pull your sweats down but not all the way off. It’s just enough to display your glistening cunt in the firelight. He doesn’t delay a second, hand coming back to use one middle finger to lazily trace patterns around  your clit and the other to explore further, teasing your hole.

“Greedy,” he mumbles. You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or your pussy as he slips a finger in, making your hips buck. “Keep still.”

“It’s hard,” you shoot back as he slowly begins to fuck you with his finger, his other hand careful not to stimulate you too fast. “Feels good.”

“Better than your own fingers when I’m gone?”

“Yes.” 

“Better than-”

“Not better than your cock,” you gasp as his finger brushes against your g-spot. “Stop asking stupid questions, Yoongi.”

He just laughs but concedes, setting a pace matched with both of his hands. Your eyes roll back as you sink low against him, hips sliding down further to chase his thrusting hand. He pulls you apart so easily, knowing exactly the speed and depth to press, knows exactly when to add another finger, the stretch and pressure maddening. 

Flames lick at the logs in front of you, heating up your skin even more. Yoongi is relentless, pulling you toward your orgasm at an agonizing pace. After years of practice, no one knows how to lure you better than him, no one knows how to string you up on the edge of a precipice, breath stilted, body shaking. 

“Come on,” he murmurs, kissing your neck. “You want it so bad.”

And you do want it. You’re a writhing mess, feet digging into the blankets beneath you, legs straining against the waistband of your sweats that are pulled to the knees, nails digging into Yoongi’s forearms. The wet sound of him working your cunt makes the room spin, your arousal loud and messy and so so so good.

“Fuck,” you growl through gritted teeth. You clench up around his fingers, leg muscles twitching, shoulders pulling in as you start to seize up. “I’m gonna-”

You can’t finish your sentence. He thrusts his fingers harder, pressing right up against your soft spot, the pressure driving you to the edge of insanity. You think you’ll break in his hands, shatter to pieces with the force building in your gut.

“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees, as he slips a third finger in, fucking you hard, leaning forward and bending you in half as he uses the leverage to thrust his fingers upward. “You’re fucking gonna.” 

“Shit!”

Between the angle, Yoongi’s knowing hands, and the sloppy, all tongue and teeth kiss he places on your shoulders, you break. You come around his fingers hard, wet, hot and screaming his name. He keeps going, the soaked sound of his fingers fucking your hole bracketed by your cursing as you squeal and lean away from him, trying to escape the grip of your orgasm.

Yoongi doesn’t let you. He pulls every drop of it out of you until you’re seeing white, your body filled with static. He goes until you’re boneless once more, useless in his lap as you gasp raggedly for air. Sweat-slick, overheated and mindless, you lay in his lap for a second as he slowly pulls his hands back. You feel empty without them, whining. 

“Hush,” he admonishes, biting your arm lightly. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

[s0rinsleeps]

Twit cap: What if I went full TLOU ellie mode to protect my sister and u knew and didn’t tell the cops bcs u think I’m sooo sexy and sooo mysterious

ALOT OF DETAILS IF U WANT THEM UNDER THE CUT

Very very random spontaneous au moment!!

•Vander let’s vi/pow live in a secluded cabin in the woods to get them away from his shady lifestyle (he wants to quit but silco and Co. want him dead) anyway vi does her best to protect them both but unfortunately Powder gets kidnapped. (They want to use her as leverage against Vander) And well,, vi as said above, does what she has to do to get her sis back. Brutally. In her rage she fucks up and leaves incriminating evidence behind, so, desperate, she goes to the only other person she knows.

•Caitlyn learns abt this and decides to protect Vi and fuck up evidence to help vi hide. Vi feels guilty for letting Caitlyn get caught up in her mess but caitlyn tbh doesn’t gaf (we Stan a morally questionable woman) and she just wants silco and co captured./ they r wanted for. A numerous amount of things, drugs, murder, etc.

•(Also vi befriended Caitlyn a bit before this happened. I was thinking that the two met after Cait caught Powder practicing her marksmanship in the woods. Caitlyn is a detective for the local town and is curious abt the two. Although a bit moreso of the scary woman who looks like she’s never seen a bed in her life lol.)

-Was also thinking of giving Vander and vi a unstable/complicated relationship. ?

•Vi loves Vander like a father (classic he took them in at a very young age blah blah) but still hates the fact that her and powder have been dragged into all this, also he kind is bad dad (sorry) and doesn’t know how to give vi the emotional support she needs/she still becomes basically a mom for powder since he’s usually never home.

-Vander is trying his best, very much reflective of how he is in canon. The whole, ‘I’m trying to keep u alive but it’s not enough to keep ur innocence safe’ thing.

Also Vander is worried about the fact Silco now knows of his kiddos, and seems to have shown an interest in powder (while she was kidnapped she offed some guys which showed off her talent with a gun and silco was like wow cool I could use that)

-also silco was present but pow nor Vi saw him/ he was quickly hidden by sevika after VI started going ham on his goons.

•Powder(nickname jinx, she still has a lot of mental issues but she’s getting treated so she’s not ..that bad) takes a liking to caitlyn when she realizes that she wouldn’t rat them out to the cops and also the classic ‘they both can shoot!’ Thing, I’m sucker for caitlyn and pow bonding

(Also potential for powder trying to get vi and cait together because she wants Vi to have someone to rely on that isn’t Vander and also sees VI’s too nervous/self deprecating to make a move on her obvious crush) :p

Anyway that’s all I thought of rn!! Idek if I’ll draw more of this I just got carried away a little with the writing hahaha

[pixelxgore]

hers a billfold wip as a treat i changed his face bc i have free will

The art is to encourage you to read my silly little insanity (you should totally do it btw)

I'm dyslexic so sorry if anything is spelled grotesquely wrong lol autocorrect sometimes has no idea what i’m trying to spell

Starting with my head cannon because every thing will make more sense with it (or it wont that's entirely up to you) Imma try my best to make this enjoyable

So I head cannon both bill and ford as aspec this is important for the rest trust (I'm Aroace myself so some of my words are based of of experience ) being aroace doesn't mean you can't have a toxic one-sided relationship with a triangle

(most of this is pretty vanilla but I still wanna talk about it)

I believe it started of as a one-sided relationship on fords part (wow shocker) but it wasn't really love because he's ace it was more of infatuation (this stems from the fact he is a science boy and like ooo demon triangle thing) mistaken for love (I'm pretty sure this is common among aroace people or I just had an original experience) and maybe bill had just a little bit of the same feeling but instead of infatuation it was just pure obsession and when they had there little “tragic break up” and bill finally came to realize his obsession and it consumed him (idk i think that how abusive obsession is) and he realized he can’t live with out ford (i man he can but unhealthy obsession) and thus bills one sided relationship with ford where he just tries to get his puppet back but can’t figure out why he needs him so bad so he comes to the (subconscious) cuncultion there in love (because of course that’s the reasonable decision) and then you all know what comes after

I think bill has major will wood music vibes so I have nominated three songs of his for bill ford (cuz I'm genuinely going insane over them)

This is for fun and based off my head cannons

All of my discussions are made purely of the vibes the song gives me and how cool than animation in my head looks so take everything you know about these will wood songs and throw it out the window cuz none of that is relevant :3

i saw someone say “Will Wood songs can really be interpreted in different ways, and most of them seem like wisps of similar thought rather than a concrete narrative, so you're always a little bit right and wrong when you take a guess.” and i think you should keep that in mined

(I'm gonna embarrass myself so hard (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) )

I'm not gonna elaborate much but just trust me ok I put it kind of in chronological order

fords one sided relationship with bill: ...well, better than the alternative

Ok so this one is the least perfect out of all of them cuz it only half what I want (obviously this song is a stretch but hear me out) It's mostly for the like the last half of the song (remember what I said about throwing out the meaning for get that i lied) this song about the struggle ls of growing up and is a heartfelt plea to be understood and accepted for who we are (which obviously ford was a wired kid) and this kinda ties into the one-sided infatuation because it also is about the romanticism of nostalgic love, and the pressure of society telling you to find someone and "settle down" as we get older (witch yk aroace can’t really do that) so he’s grasping at the fact that he is enamored with this demon he just summoned (because science) so he can come up with this narrative in his head of how he is in love and can finally fit at least one of the societal boxes (idk it sounds like something to me probly ooc but I'm having fun)

bills one sided relationship with ford: ¡Aikido!

obsession with someone and how people often use coping mechanisms such as drugs to help with their feelings of uncertainty and helplessness. (yes this is copied not fully of a site this is tumblr not an english assignment) it also explores the idea that love and obsession can often manifest in neurotic and even pathological behavior.(oooo oooo look i’m so smart like staring the apocalyps) i’m not this cool this whole thing started with the first like whit h is “I apologize for playing with your eyes But I’m obsessed with you” witch reminded me of how bill used for as a puppet and then yk fords whole world came crashing down (this one explained its self more i have to do less mental gymnastics) and he’s like im sooo sorry i can’t live with out you

there whole relationship from the deal to the end of bill: Misanthrapologist ("In case I make it,"

Outtake)

ok this one is the one that mostly made of vibes because the song is about an unhappy codependent relationship through metaphors of christianity, nihilism, outer space, and mozart (witch only really encompasses a portion of the relationship) the song stars with “I wanna meet your make Shake him by his ensanguined damask lapel Holler "Look what you've done Gave this planet a sun And made a man to wonder if he's more than the sum of his cells"” which makes me personally think of obviously the deal fore made with bill and how bill stroked his ego all the way through there partnership um you can see where i goes from here just go listen to the song

ok this one’s off topic and only for my imaginary animation but the line “So how could I stand a chance, let alone dance With the way you sweep me off these two left feet?” just like imagine this with me it’s bill (human probably cuz i don’t work with the triangle) and young ford in the minedskape thing and its bill dipping ford and when it goes down it switches to bill and fort in bills pyramid thing with ford chained up do you see the vision ok I’m done now (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

[fairyhaos]

seventeen and which mythical beings they are

requested by @mesanthropi ^^ physically held myself back from going on rants for shua's and hao's and jeonghan's pls (iykyk)

masterlist

seungcheol

vampire. formidable, mysterious vampire seungcheol from a powerful family name who lives in a huge, ominous castle and somehow manages to make sucking blood look sexy… shakes he's so fine oh my god. honestly vampire!cheol with glowing red eyes and an intimidating presence and the most smug fucking smirk in the world is such a vibe, and he also has the whole “i was born centuries and centuries ago” old hag thing down to an art

jeonghan

siren. specifically a mermaid-type siren that lives in the sea and has a pretty iridescent tail. water-dwelling being jeonghan just makes so much sense to me bc he has their fluidity and their peaceful and their mischief and also??? jeonghan with a shimmery mermaid tail and captivating siren voice???? i'd willingly drown myself for him actually, siren song be damned. he has the silvery voice of a siren and the ethereal looks to be one fr

joshua

wood nymph. bambi-eyed wood nymph joshua who communicates with the birds and tends to his forest and has flowers weaved in his hair and stars embedded around his eyes… the nymph!joshua obsession is Real guys and i am definitely a victim of it. curly haired joshua is just sooo wood nymph coded and i can see him as some soft-spoken, pretty being who lives in a birch tree and guides stray travellers when they get lost in his woods

junhui

witch junhui with his black cat familiar and his dented cauldron and his cottage in the middle of the forest!! witch junhui with his mini apothecary and his goofy-sounding spells and his eyebrow permanently half-singed bc his enchantments keep backfiring!! witch junhui with his soft spoken words and bright laugh and total kindness to everyone who happens upon his home!! witch junhui is so so dear to me and he really is just. a witchy little dude

hoshi

shapeshifter. does this idea feed into his furry agenda a bit too much? yeah, it kinda does, but oh my god just imagine tiger shapeshifter hoshi who's part human but can turn into a large, big-fanged and bold-striped tiger at a moment's notice. he really just genuinely gives shapeshifter vibes, and every year he schedules one week where he'll traipse off into the nearest mountains and blow off some steam in his tiger form for seven days

wonwoo

dragon. okay so this is kinda not a humanoid mythical being, but wonwoo is soooo big friendly dragon coded. i can imagine him as a large, red scaly dragon, snoozing atop his massive hoard of gold in a secluded cave in the forest, little wisps of smoke coming out of his nostrils as he snores contentedly. that doesn't mean he can't be scary if he wants to tho, and can burn down any puny humans who try to steal his hoard in the blink of an eye

woozi

demigod. part-god woozi is just such a vibe okay, and he rlly does give off a hercules-type feel, where he can do inhuman things and seems almost untouchable in his awesomeness, even though he's right there in front of you. and he has a hatred of the gods and a mild tolerance for humans but at the end of the day, he appreciates and loves both for all that they do. (also in a percy jackson demigod sense, he is totally an apollo's kid and no i don't make the rules) 

minghao

fae. y'all know how far my fairy minghao agenda runs by now and like ??? can you blame me ???? the idea of sassy smol hao with fairy wings and a squeaky voice is cute and all, but also i just think he fits the idea of the entire tall, mysterious fae folk really well too. with his pointy fae ears and his shrewd gaze and his ability to say half-truths and riddles and give sage advice about how to live your life all at once, he really is very much a fae-like person. 

mingyu

some sort of demon. he's so loud and bright and kind that, despite his huge presence and glowing eyes and the horns protruding out of his mess of fluffy hair, you don't even register that he's some dangerous, hellish creature before something happens and he just snaps, the air around him visibly darkening as he tears after the thing that caused him to lose control. he's so sweet and kind but so undeniably dangerous all at once. 

dokyeom

elf. i'm thinking lord of the rings elves, except i haven't actually watched lord of the rings but i have this idea of them being tall and rich and elegant beings, and it makes me think of dokyeom. he's just so pretty, and the elves rely on the natural elements to survive, right? dokyeom is just so sunbeams peeking through forest leaves, so little rabbits bounding through the undergrowth, so hand-whittled arrows and folk songs around a campfire and tall, tall, beautiful elves. 

seungkwan

will o’ the wisp or a sprite. he's endearing and mysterious, and once you gain his favour he's staying glued to ur shoulder for the entirety of your dangerous quest through the magical woods. he's very chatty and also very elusive, constantly flitting around in the air and disappearing in a wink of light before appearing on your nose once again. you can't tell if he's a help or a hindrance, but he's cute and bright and makes the journey a lot better

vernon

a smurf. smurfs count as mythical beings okay, and while ive never actually watched any smurf movie thing ever, i think vernon would make an absolutely brilliant smurf. they give off silly goofy weird adorable vibes, and that's basically vernon in a nutshell. also smol vernon with blue skin and lives in a mushroom looking house??? that's kinda cute and actually something that vernon might wanna do irl not gonna lie

chan

nine-tailed fox. he's so mysterious and sexy and kind of dangerous but like. his unbelievable handsomeness kinda outweighs the danger. honestly i don't really have an explanation for this other than that the Vibes r there for some reason and he'd look so cool with those glittery wisps of magic threading through the air around him as his eyes glow a mysterious colour before he launches into a kdrama-esque fight sequence against the latest monster

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reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @hanniehaee @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @zilinxue

[linomilkers]

Minho x Reader [Warnings: dry humping, a filthy blow job, probably some medical inaccuracies, Minho calls Felix Yongbok bc canon and that's his Yongbokkie]

Note: Helloooo, this is my first time writing in this style! Just trying something different for this particular piece. Also, I started writing this before we found out about Minho's hand, so I promise I wasn't making light of his injury! Just a coincidence!

Let me know if you like it!!

Minho who hurt both of his wrists somehow, maybe it was a misstep in dance practice that sent him to the floor, or a stumble at the airport. His wrists are sprained, he's in two clunky arm braces to keep them still, and he's not meant to participate in any strenuous exercise that would involve movement of them. It sucked, being hurt, and he was missing schedules, he would fall behind in learning the new choreography, and he was setting the comeback back by a couple of weeks -- but it wasn't the worst thing. He could use a small break, even if it's just a week or two, of resting and taking it easy after nonstop months of producing content.

Minho who enjoys the break for about a week before he started getting a little stir crazy. Eating was a chore, a true test to his patience instead of being something gratifying and he couldn't cook much. He could move his wrists a little so that the muscles wouldn't weaken from not using them, but barely enough to eat, let alone prepare a full meal. Everyone else in the dorm was so busy that nobody was really cooking, so living off take out has made his face swollen and a bit puffy. Which he wouldn't mind as much, if not for how annoying Seungmin's been with pinching his cheeks and cooing at him for it. He can't even properly exact revenge and the creatine is taking full advantage of that.

Minho who can't touch himself properly and is starting to go crazy because of that too. He doesn't have to do it every day like some (namely Jisung, the little pervert), but he does it often enough that a week and a half in he's starting to feel it. Every morning he's waking up with something stiff between his legs, and he's helpless to it. Minho believes he has enough mental fortitude to look past his horniness, because no orgasm would be satisfying if he couldn't properly use his hands. He could wait it out, the braces would be off within two more weeks, he'd be fine.

Minho who breaks the day after he'd made a pact with himself to hold out. In the daze of his morning wood and being two seconds from sleep again, he rolled onto his front on his bed. Minho bunches his blankets up into a wad, then presses into it, a reedy sound leaving his mouth, unfamiliar to his own ears. It feels good, really, really fucking good, but it isn't enough. Still, it doesn't stop him from trying. He ruts pitifully into the blankets, chasing after a release he knew he wouldn't find, leaking precum in his briefs. It's embarrassing, how badly he needs it, how desperately he's trying for it -- but there's nobody home. Everyone left early this morning, so he was safe to do this for a little while, until he gets frustrated and takes a cold shower instead.

Minho, who forgot Yongbok's friend had spent the night and had promised to wait around for him to get back from schedules so they could go shopping, or out to eat, or whatever. The friend who Yongbok had made promise she would bring Minho breakfast in the morning, so that he wasn't fumbling around the kitchen himself. Minho had told him that he didn't need that, that he wouldn't want his friend going out of her way for him, but he refused to listen, and so did she. Which was surprising, she's usually pretty quiet, but the sudden headstrong attitude started him into silence and acceptance. "No earlier than 7AM," he told her, "I'll at least try to sleep in."

Minho, who doesn't hear the perfunctory knock on the door before it opens at 7:05 (of course she is close with Yongbok, because he barely waits half a second before opening the door after a halfhearted knock as well -- he doesn't care what he sees when he ambles in, usually caught in his own head about whatever he'd come for in the first place), and only realizes that Y/N is standing there with a bowl steaming in her hands when she says, "Oh, shit, sorry," as if this wasn't embarrassing enough, Minho has to let go of the pillow he'd caught between his teeth, "I should've waited for you to reply."

Minho, who knocks his head against the mattress and gives a disbelieving laugh, because of course this would happen to him. He's at the edge of his rope, he just wants to cum, and he can't even do that without being caught humping the bed like a desperate dog. He's caught between wanting to apologize to her for seeing him like this and wanting to scold her for walking in, in the first place. He doesn't get a chance to do either because Y/N offers her help instead, gentle and not in the least bit suggestive sounding, despite what she was suggesting, "I can help you out, if you want," she told him, "Yongbokkie thinks my mouth is really good."

Minho, who really doesn't have a chance to consider what that means, because since when was Yongbok getting his dick wet? Is that why he's always so calm? How long had she been doing that? And would he be okay with her offering that to Minho? Wouldn't he be upset? Or were they not together like that? He makes a confused sound in his throat, nervous to turn around where he knew she'd be able to see how hard he was, but too mortified to stay in the position he's in. So he flipped onto his back, and tries not to wince when her gaze zeros in on his cock -- so fierce, he's sure that he could feel it burning him, "I told him to ask if you needed help, but he didn't listen to me," Y/N continued to say, "Swore up and down about how you don't like asking for help, that you'd have to really need it to accept it, and I think humping your blankets is really needing it, right?" It was a fair assessment, and he feels his ears get hot, "I'll help."

Minho, who agrees because. . .well, why shouldn't he? She's offering, and he's hard and horny and wet, and he probably isn't thinking the clearest. He'd never thought of Y/N in that way, she's always just been Yongbokkie's sweet friend and that's it, but now he can't get the image of her with his cock in his mouth (or Yongbok's cock, for that matter) out of his head. With great effort, he scoots himself up the bed, among his pillows with his back against the headboard while Y/N got herself comfortable between his spread legs. She doesn't bother to take his briefs off at first, burying her nose against the hard swell beneath the fabric and breathing in deep. His face feels like its on fire, because who just does that? And why is he so turned on by it?

Minho, whose mind is spinning because this sweet girl's mouth is made for more than gentle compliments and clunky sentences in a language Yongbok is working hard to help her with. It's made for wetting the thin fabric of his light colored briefs, sucking opened mouth kisses that add to the growing wet spot on him. He has a hard time figuring out what was from him and what was from her, but it hardly matters. He throbs and twitches with every suckle and lick while she saturates the cotton. And when he is about to start whining at her for teasing him, her fingers dip beneath the elastic and fish his cock out from the briefs. A small, contented sigh leaves her mouth, like she'd been waiting all day to get her mouth on him. The head is flushed ruddy and dripping, shiny with his own slick and she shows her tongue to wet her lips, and he's throbbing again.

Minho, who can only gasp when she says, "You really needed this, right? I would have helped sooner. I like drinking cum from pretty boys," because what is Yongbok teaching her? But before he can ask, she's swallowing his cock down in one go and he cries out like he'd never been touched in his life. It sure feels like that right now, and the tight, wet heat of her mouth makes his brain melt, and any hope for thoughts that surpass, this is good, this is good, this is good leave his head. His brain to mouth filter evaporates, he spreads his legs further, "Fuck," his eyes roll back, because if he looks at her then he'll cum and he wanted to enjoy this for a little while at least, "Who taught you to be this naughty?"

Minho, who wasn't really looking for an answer, but Y/N slips off to tongue at his slit any way, then drools a glob of spit on his shaft and fucks him with her hand, "Yongbokkie," she replied without thought, "He trained my throat really well, now I can take all of you pretty deep." All of them? He can't clarify because she's sucking his balls into her mouth and soaking them with her tongue and his mind fizzles out again. It's too much, all of it, and she does it with a practiced ease of someone who is taking a lot of cocks in her mouth and his mind is reeling with it. She slobbers and drools and sucks until she's licking back up to the tip, taking him down, down, down, until the head nudges at the back of her constricting throat.

Minho, who comes with barely a warning scraping away from his tongue but Y/N doesn't mind. She withdraws just enough so it fills up the pocket of her cheek, squeezing the base, working him through it. He thinks his vision whites out for a second, he's almost positive he might have momentarily blacked out from the intensity of it. It burns from his fingertips up through his chest, spiraling through his whole body like summer storm lightening. It's a lot, his muscles lock up, he thinks if there were any time to understand the universe it would be now after he just flooded her mouth.

Minho, who isn't sure what to expect exactly, but certainly didn't expect her to crawl back up his body, tilt his chin toward her mouth and fix their lips together. He didn't expect her to push his cum into his mouth either, in a kiss so filthy and gross he knows he's going to be touching himself to it for months to come. At least he doesn't taste all that bad, as she makes him share, and he moans pretty pitifully against her tongue.

Minho, who finally opens his eyes after some time and is greeted with a smile, "Good news is, we were quick about it so your food is still warm," she tells him, "Should I feed it to you? I don't mind." And who would have thought that, with his softening cock against his thigh, and his wrists in braces, that Y/N would offer him something like that too? She'd already done too much, hasn't she? More than she'd been requested to, should he really let her feed him? Or was she joking?

Minho, who quickly finds that she isn't joking at all actually. She doesn't wait for him to answer before she's offering him rice and a sliver of egg from his bowl, holding it out toward his mouth. Minho parts his lips, she presses it inside, then gives an even bigger, triumphant smile when he hums at the taste, "It's good, hm? I made it myself."

Minho, who decides that he needs to know more about her, needs to implant himself deeper into her life, needs to ask Yongbok where he found her and if he's willing to share.

[savepc2023]

Do they have rizz?

🤨📸

Robin: Yes. A hundred times yes. Students see them walking by and they swoon. Specifically, they've got that 'girl/boy next door' rizz. Everyone (and by everyone I mean the more wholesome of the bunch because let's be honest most of them are downright nasty) wants to kiss their dimples.

Whitney: Well... yes and no? They have charisma, but it's more of aaaaa uh. Like they make an lasting impression. And maybe if they were nice they'd be somewhat on par with Robin. But they're not so all they got going for them is they're rough and sexy and people are into that. But in terms of romance? Hell no. No one wants to get with them like that.

Pure Sydney: Yes but to only a select few: The ones that have a certain type, which iiiis 'pure awkward baby girl/boy that is considered a role model'. Because to be honest if you're not one of those people you'd probably be a little scared and a bit annoyed of sydney tbh. Especially if you're a bit of a mischievous student bc what if they tell on you or smth??? nah. And plus they have a killer glare that just screams 'gtfo my way'.

Corrupted Sydney: The rizziest of them all. The rizzanator. The rizzly bear. The three rizzketeers. They are so hot and for what. With proper communication with pc (if they're dating), they openly flirt with literally everyone. Innuendos thrown into the air and suggestive pick up lines whispered huskily....lord. But that's about as far as it goes, they love leaving people hot and bothered just to sneak off with you to tickle your neck with kisses.

Kylar: Hear me out. Hear me out. Now you might think they have ZERO rizz and YOU'RE RIGHT. THEY HAVE ZERO. ZILCH. NADA. BUT THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT GIVES THEM RIZZ. THEY'RE PATHETIC AND SOME PEOPLE(me) LOVE THAT. Except the people that take an interest in them are too afraid to approach them lest they transfer some of his encounters with bullies to themself. Either that or it's purely sexual like they just want to fuck them and toss them aside.

Avery: N.....no. They're hot as fuck, don't get me wrong but that's....about where it ends. Unlike Whitney, nobody even wants to fuck them because uhhh bad attitude. Also most of the town seems to be into obedient subs? So yeah. Like their arrogance, their bitchy-ness, their pride and how pretentious they come across..........ew. But yeah, no bitches no rizz and definitely no head. (I'd still peg them tho)

Eden: No. He looks hot but he's too scary for that to give anyone confidence to strut up to him. Also there's almost no one to rizz up when you're living deep inside the woods in a cabin. There's a reason the only time he got a bitch was because they developed stockholm syndrome.

Alex: Yes<3 Similar to Robin in a way but unlike with them when people feel at ease and comfortable, with Alex you feel energized. Like you just wanna fuckinf chase eachother and end up tackling the other and just make out in the open. Like oughhh he is so sexy and cute. Save a horse, ride a farmer.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

It's a Cruel Summer, With You

kai parker x reader | requested

summary: kai's never had anyone tell him they love him. he panics when he hears it for the first time.

tags: based on cruel summer by taylor swift, mild enemies to lovers, drinking / alcohol, secret relationship, summer love, love confessions, fear / panic, past trauma affecting relationships, emotional hurt, unrequited love (but not really), break-up, heartbreak, unhappy ending, one teensy edgar allen poe reference

word count: 5k

a/n: anon, i apologize once more for the amount of time this took! i hope you like it, and i hope i did taylor swift justice. 🩷 i also hope it makes sense bc sometimes i feel like my thoughts are just all over the place 😅

You were staring daggers into the back of his head, three days after a drastic turning point in their lives. And he, feeling your eyes upon him, turned to face you and smiled. That enraged you like nothing else; no man had ever had such an audacity with you, to raise the hell that he had and still offer a smile. You looked back down at your drink, still fuming, and still aware of him watching you, and texted your friends about it. One replied with an equal disgust, another sent a funny-to-her joke, and there was no response from the third. 

“Maybe he’s got a sweet spot for you,” she had said.

“Ha.”

A sweet spot that’d make him kill you last, maybe.

You rolled your eyes exhaustedly, but by the time you looked back down, someone had slunk into the booth across from you. You jumped, then rolled your eyes a second time at the realization of who it was.

“Hey cutie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Kai shrugged, unbothered. He kept eye contact with you in a way that made it hard to look away; his blue eyes seemed to pierce right into your soul. They weren’t bright, like Damon’s, but instead had a touch of darkness in them. Like storm clouds rolling in on a bright, sunny day. They threaten rain, but you’re not sure if the downpour will come today or tomorrow.

Kinda like how he came into Mystic Falls. 

“What do you want?” You bit, after about thirty seconds of staring.

“Are you scared of me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you afraid of me?” He repeated, eerily softly. 

“Why would you think that?” Forced bravery is better than none, especially when faced with Kai Parker. 

“There’s a slight tremor in your voice. Only one finger touches the table, as if you’re unable to settle. You struggle to meet my eyes.”

“What are you, a psychologist?”

“I’m a sociopath.”

Shocker. 

“So?”

“I notice things.” He took a sip of your coffee. Reached out across the table, met your eyes, and sipped your drink. Again, the audacity. “I spent a lot of my childhood isolated. I had a lot of little brothers and sisters, and they were all taught to be afraid of me. I know how to read the signs.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“That’s what they’d say, too.”

“Well I’m not your siblings, and I’m not putting up an act. I don’t trust you, and I think you’re an ass, but I’m not afraid of you.” Your statement’s bold, but he had struck something fierce in you. A nerve, maybe on purpose, that wasn’t going to let him win this time. 

Kai smiled at that. His gaze dropped to the table, surveying your hands once more. His own pointer finger dragged along the wood. “I like you, Y/N. You’re plucky.”

The words took a moment to register - Kai saying he liked you. Kai didn’t like anyone. 

He got up to leave, causing you to turn towards him, prepared to jump out of the booth if you had to. “Well don’t.”

He cocked his head. “What?”

“I don’t want you to like me. I want nothing to do with you; you said it yourself, you’re a sociopath, and I don’t need that kind of bad energy in my life.”

That seemed to be funny to him, judging by the way he chuckled. “Okay, Y/N.” He put his hands up in surrender. “I won’t like you then.”

And with that, he was gone. 

Of course, he wasn’t gone - gone. Kai was never gone - gone from anything, even when people yelled at him to leave. He would disappear for a couple days, but he always came back. 

And somehow, after your interaction, you’d see him more frequently at the grill, too. He’d never talk to you, but you could feel his gaze. His stone cold blues would linger on you, almost like an animal stalking prey. 

It made you anxious, jittery. But somewhere, secretly, also a bit excited. 

He was dangerous in a way that drew you in. He had this aura about him that intrigued you as much as it scared you. You knew what he had done, and what he was capable of, and yet he still occupied the curious corners of your mind. 

And somehow, he seemed to know that. 

♫

How it happened from there is something you still question. Death glares became stolen glances, became blushing smiles, and by the next time he joined you at your booth, you didn’t try to fight him off. Kai ordered an uncharacteristically pink cocktail to match your own tropical choice. Neither said much as you both drank the rum mixtures down to the ice. You communicated in eye contact, mostly, as if daring the other to speak. Your stubborn personalities that should’ve clashed seemed to meld together instead. An intense staring contest was born. You found yourself entertained in the game, and quickly, enjoying it, too.

The booze soaked your brain as you continued to drink; your thoughts were fuzzy, and whenever you tried to catch them, they’d dissipate like cotton candy dropped in water. When Liv closed the restaurant around midnight, she unknowingly crashed the floodgates that weakly stood between you two. Ten feet out onto the street, you fell into him and he held you up. You laughed in his arms, partly due to your own drunken state, but partly that it’s Kai keeping you on your toes. He held you tight until you found your footing, just for you to crash your lips onto his unsuspecting own. The witch, taken aback but not opposed to it, let you taste him for a moment before kissing back. He pushed you up to the nearest wall, feeling and exploring, before hailing a ride back to your place. 

It had been forever for both of you. The uber driver with a ‘no touching’ rule sobered you up a little, but not enough to make you think twice about it. By the time he laid you down on your sheets, any doubt in your mind had fizzled out. He was a gentle lover, much to your surprise, likely because it was such an unfamiliar feeling to be so intimate with another. The little control you tried to take was met with a laugh, and you understood the signal. You didn’t mind being underneath him, though, nor did you mind him staying the night.

Guilt struck you when you first woke up in his arms, but not enough to barr yourselves from meeting again. The first few times you had to be drinking to convince yourself it was okay, but the more morning-afters you spent together, the less ashamed you started to feel. With time, nights started to feel less like hookups and more like something else. He became something you adored when you had, and craved when you did not. The feelings were mutual, though harder to pull out from the siphon, until you asked him directly, putting both your hearts out for the other to grab.

“What are we?” You asked, head leaning on the vending machine as he fetched himself a post-high gatorade. A bag of cookies were held in your own hand from the exchange you made one minute prior. 

“Having fun,” Kai replied.

“Kai…”

“Or so I think,” he followed his words, questioning the look on your face. 

“Are we anything more? Will we ever be?”

A loud voice down the hall that vaguely resembled his sister made a sharp remark to another person. His response sounded closer, as if they were heading in your direction. Kai grabbed your arm and muttered a simple cloaking spell until they both passed. Liv and Tyler both disappeared into her room, then Kai removed his hand. His touch lingered on your skin for a moment. You’ve grown to quite like the feeling. 

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’m not exactly the person for relationships, if you aren’t aware. I’m a sociopath that was locked in complete isolation for eighteen years.”

“I don’t care.” You grabbed his hand and laced your fingers together. “I like you. I don’t want this to stop. I want it to be more.”

“I’m not built for this.”

“But do you want it?”

His mouth went dry as he already knew the truth. He did. He wanted you so much, but fear held him back like a dog on a leash. He didn’t have much slack. “I want you,” he finally said. “I want this to work.”

“I’m not good at relationships, either. We’re figuring this out together.”

Kai seemed to accept that better, and two minutes later, he climbed back under the sheets with you, turning on a movie and sharing snacks until you fell asleep. 

♫

As your relationship progressed, it was tested, like all relationships ever are. You grew closer, more comfortable, as summer went on. Much of your time spent together was at night; you hadn’t told your friends, not ready for their questions nor their judgment, nor did you want the word out to his coven yet, afraid of whatever wrath his father could bring if he were to disapprove. You were still figuring things out, still learning about each other, and testing yourselves through time, and that was okay. Life isn’t something to be learned in a day, it’s something in which to be present to see where it takes you.

So, you let yourselves live, to do just that. On top of rooftops and beside small creeks, you snuck out to enjoy each other’s company. Mystic Falls has a lot of places to hide if you know where to look. 

A couple times, you’ve almost ran into others. More than anyone being Liv and Tyler, also avoiding her father. Once, you’ve ducked under bushes to hide from Bonnie. Kai kissed your neck while his hand was clamped over your mouth, daring you to give away your position, while playfully inhibiting your chance to do so.

Sometimes, you were drunk when you found yourselves venturing the town together. The bar in which neither Matt nor Liv worked became a hotspot for you. But instead of ending the night short, you opted to explore the late hours in each other’s company. The alcohol wore off quickly, but the drunkenness brought on by your unconfessed love never did. 

Kai, as it turns out, was easy to fall in love with. He was charming when you first met, but you were tickled to learn that underneath his manipulation tactics, he could be just as endearing authentically. He was a jokester and a flirt, whether across a room when you’d spot each other in public, or when you were hanging out together alone. You were never afraid to be alone with him. If your friends knew you were out with him, alone, at night, they would’ve freaked, but he always made you feel safe. And, once he felt comfortable being vulnerable with you, he revealed a side that could be sweet, too. 

Even after arguments, you were able to patch things up as if they hadn’t happened. Sometimes, he’d be bristling and volatile, but you knew that a lot of his anger came from a place of fear. You learned what to say that would calm him down; you told him what he needed to hear to feel safe again. You’d provide him with the comfort he’d always desired, and when he settled, he’d melt into your touch and softly request forgiveness.

You complimented each other perfectly. And while it took you a moment to name the emotion, the feeling had been there all along. It was love. 

♫

You were only slightly drunk the first time you realized the truth. Kai was painted in perfect, purple lighting, and his eyes seemed to sparkle when they met yours. You stumbled towards him and put your arms around his neck. He caught you, hands finding your waist. The music seemed to fade out as you swayed with him to the beat. It was as if a bubble captured you both, drowning out the rest of the world, making him your world, and in that moment, nothing else existed. You kissed him quickly, desperately, like an addict gone too long without a hit. He met you halfway, equally addicted. 

And then, because you were young, and stupid, and courageously in love, you blurted out the words swimming restlessly in your mind,

“I love you.”

You looked up at him, not expecting an answer just yet, but to offer an encouraging smile. Before your gaze even reached his, his body tensed. His hands felt like ice upon your nervously warmed skin, and his once-strong grip on your waist loosened. Kai wore an expression of confusion, different from the emotion that you tasted on his lips. You opened your mouth to retract the words, but nothing came out. The bubble that consumed you seemed to crack; the music previously blocked filled your eardrums once again. 

A fraction of a second later, you were guided to a hallway by your fingertips. The narrow path reduced some of the music, but most of the traffic. The man of your affection took to one wall, leaving you in the middle. You tried for his hand after he let it go, but dropped it at the discomfort he seemed to feel in having you hold it. 

You racked your brain for the right words, but nothing seemed perfect. You stared at the ground beneath your feet for a half second longer until he spoke, 

“You can’t do that.”

“What?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m sorry? I don’t. What did I do wrong?” He only shook his head, prompting you further. “Was it what I said or when I said it? Because I don’t think it’s wrong of me to confess what I feel for you when I know that it’s true.”

“It can’t be true. You can’t feel that for me.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Provide me with a reason,” you interrupted, “or let me do as I please. I want to love you. I do, and I won’t apologize for it.” 

“Y/N-”

“We’ve had some tough times together, I know we have, but we’ve gotten through them. We - us, together - have worked through so much to get here. Of course I love you, there’s so much effort and, and, love, that connects us.” You paused, letting your thoughts catch up to your mouth. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t even have to acknowledge it, if you’re not ready. I know it’s a big step.”

“You can’t go there, Y/N.”

“I know, okay, maybe it was too much, too soon. I’m sor-”

“No, you can’t ever go there. You can’t love me and you shouldn’t. I’m not designed for relationships, they’re not meant for me. Do you not remember the things I’ve done?”

“We’ve talked about this, Kai. You confided in me about your fears, but we handled them, I thought. Do you not remember what I said?”

“I do, but-”

“‘Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway’.”

“By Poe,” Kai finished.

“And it’s true. I don’t care about the things you’ve done. I want to love you, and I do.”

“But you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t excuse the things I’ve done just because you want to see me for someone who I am not. You shouldn’t be so desperate to see a difference in me that you convince yourself you love me.”

“What?! Kai, I’m not excusing nor am I desperate. I know you’re different from the you that wrought pain upon the town. That guy’s gone, buried, with this you in his place. And I quite like this you, and I’ve learned to love him, because his progress is worth loving. He is worth loving. You are.”

“The old Y/N would never say such things about her sworn enemy. You’d never dare hold his hand, nor kiss his lips, nor say such things, because you’d know better, and if you did, it’d be because of some horrible nightmare, or some instance where I spelled you to get what I needed, because Y/N, we’re living in a fantasy, and none of this is real.”

“I don’t understand! This is real! We’re here, together, and we were dancing, and we were happy, and now we’re in this hallway. Still together, but now questioning if the summer we’ve spent together has all been a hoax, or if that’s the booze talking.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“You have to be, to think what you’re saying is true.” You paused, heartbroken, and afraid to show it, but pretty sure the choke in your words already had. “So are you saying you’ve never meant it? All the times you’ve kissed me were just folly? Or the nights we stayed up until the sun rose again were only dreams I made up?”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N. I know what we’ve done, and I know we’ve shared moments, but a fantasy is all this is for us. Something we want, but cannot have. We have to wake up some day.”

“I disagree, I think we can make it work.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. This was never supposed to be a long-term thing.”

“But we said it could be! We said it could make it work!”

“And that’s what makes it a fantasy! We both know that’s a lie.”

“Kai, I don’t understand. Ten minutes ago, we were fine. Yesterday, you gave me a kiss that swept me off my feet; that replaced all my organs with butterflies; that made me feel like full-bloomed roses on the nicest day of the year. You made me feel cherished, and happy, and beautiful, but now, I feel like I’m on the end of a well-thought out joke, and everyone’s finally allowed to laugh.”

“I’m not saying this to break your heart. I’m just trying to be realistic.” He reached out to wipe a tear from your cheek, but you smacked his thumb away. 

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling, but you still tried to talk through them. “I thought we were being realistic when we stayed up talking, all those nights, about how we knew each other’s flaws but were willing to work through them anyway. I would think, if we weren’t, we wouldn’t have spent a whole week together and considered getting an apartment to share, because we work just that well.”

“That only proves my point further. We haven’t been together long enough to make big decisions like that.”

“Then we’ll put it on pause and address it later.”

“Y/N-”

“Why are you doing this? Why does it seem like you’re giving up on us? Why are your words sounding like a preface to a break up?”

“Because they are,” he confessed, “because they have to be.”

“What do you mean, ‘they have to be?’”

“We can’t work. You can’t love me.”

“But I do, and I want to, and we do! We’ve managed to make it work, despite our-”

“But how long do you think we can keep this up? When will our differences outweigh our desires to stay together? When will we tell your friends about us? My family? We are too different for us to work, and I’m too damaged to be loved by you. We have to stop living in this fantasy.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying this. Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“I’m not drunk, Y/N.”

“So what, have you been planning this? Have you been waiting for the perfect time? Funny, that the perfect time seems to be when I tell you I l-”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, “don’t say it again.”

“What?”

“The less you say it, the less you’ll believe it.”

“That’s bullshit. I believe it in the deepest corners of my heart. You’re etched into my bones. You’re the shimmer of light in the darkest parts of my mind. I love you, Kai Parker. I love you, and I don’t want to apologize for it, and I won’t believe that I’ve made this all up in my mind. It’s okay that you don’t love me, but don’t you dare try to say you feel nothing.”

“Y/N-”

“‘Tell me all the terrible things you’ve done, and let me love you anyway’.”

“You can’t. I won’t let you.”

“You don’t have a choice. I don’t. I can’t control my heart nor its desires. It wants you; you have it. Tell me you don’t crave it. I know you crave love, Kai. I know it in the way you kiss me, and in the way you hold me. I know it from the time you confessed, at two in the morning when you were too tired to hold back, and I know it from when you told me, clear as day, on that Wednesday afternoon. I love you, and I’m not afraid to love you. Why don’t you give in to what I know you want?!”

Because your love isn’t mine to take. 

Because I don’t deserve it.

Because you’re a gemstone, perfect and pure, and I’m the dirt from which it was pulled.

“Because I don’t feel the same for you,” he said instead, “I’m not capable of love. I’m a sociopath, and anything I’ve ever said was for my own fleeting pleasure. It’s over now. I’m done. I’m bored with us.”

“What? No. Something’s wrong. This is not the same Kai I spent the summer falling in love with. Are you Damon in disguise? Pulling some sick prank?”

“I’m not, Y/N. It’s me, being realistic, and telling you I don’t love you, and I never will. It’s time to go home, Y/N, and to your own bed, in your own sheets.”

The tears streaming down your face run your make-up, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. “But my sheets smell like you.”

“Then wash them.”

The harshness in his tone was unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. When you finally brought yourself to meet his eyes, there was no light inside them, no humanity. His jaw was tensely set, and for the first time in months, you saw the Kai that everyone feared when he had broken himself free of his eighteen-year punishment. Scared and sorrowful, you backed away from him. He didn’t follow. You backed further and further away until you were stumbling out of the bar. The wicked August heat kissed your neck like he used to -  passionately. You grabbed your hair, fumbling it up into a bun to get it off your skin, then searched for your phone to call a ride. 

As the white sedan approached your meeting spot, you trained your blurry vision on the door, but Kai never came out. He never shouted your name, hurried down the steps, nor caught you in an apologetic embrace, blaming his temporary ignorance on too much to drink. He never peered through a fingerprint-stained window, watching you from the glass, wondering if it's too late to take back what was said. It was just silent, as car engines roared and drunk couples chattered around you. 

When your ride finally came, you cried harder than you ever had in your life. Your driver glanced to the backseat, but didn't know a good time to interrupt, so he didn't. He offered a polite smile as you got out, thanked you for the five-star rating, and made sure you got in your apartment safely before pulling back onto the road. 

You barely made it through the door before crashing on the couch. Exhaustion settled in your bones halfway through the drive, and you couldn’t even think about climbing the stairs. The worst headache of your life pounded in your skull. Water was too far of a walk, so you let it throb. 

You tried your best not to think about Kai. His words rang in your head on repeat like an old antique bell - loud, heavy, constant. It almost felt like the whole night was a fluke. A nightmare. A spell, perhaps done by his father, or one of your disappointed friends. When you wake up, he’d be there, kissing your fingertips as the smell of coffee fills the air. You let this thought comfort you, and let it soften your heart. Although, deep down, you knew the truth. 

He wouldn’t be there. He didn’t want you. 

You’ve never known pain like this before.

♫

You can only ignore your friends for so long. Blaming a long to-do list can only give you so many excuses, and when Caroline messages you mid-afternoon on a Friday if you’d meet them at the Scull Bar, you realize you don’t have any more excuses left. So, cautiously, you pull yourself from your bed and drag your feet to your closet. You still haven’t washed your sheets, despite wanting to be rid of his once-comforting smell. It’s more stubbornness than anything, refusing to do the chore. If he thinks throwing a piece of fabric in the wash will rid you of him, he’s a damn fool.

You hadn’t been lying. He owns a part of your heart, and that can’t be simply washed away with some eco-friendly detergent.

Truthfully, you think, ignoring the heaviness in your bones as you enter the Scull Bar, the only way to remove him would be to carve out your heart entirely; to separate it from its lifeline and from all that’s familiar. But, you can’t, so you choose to let it bleed instead, and hope it doesn’t seep through your clothes. 

A vague sadness hangs above your heads, but none of your friends know the cause. You told them you were tired before joining them. You must not have gotten a good night’s sleep.

After all, it’s the first time in Mystic Falls where something tragic isn’t happening. Damon and Elena are planning out their lives, Stefan and Caroline are newly together, and Bonnie and Enzo, a quite unexpected pair, seem to be happy. Jo is five months pregnant, and Kai has left her alone. The girls wonder if that’s of his own volition, or if someone or something is distracting him, but you don’t offer any suggestions. When they then ask you about your own dating life, you only shrug. They tease playfully, having no idea about the wreckage your heart is still trying to piece back together. The cause seems hopeless. You don’t even have the energy to confide in them. 

The topic finally changes, but only because the one who dropped your glass heart enters. You turn when you catch a bit of his familiar cologne, but remind yourself he’s no longer yours and turn again just as fast. The girls let their gazes linger on him as if daring him to bother them, and for a moment, Kai wonders if you told them. But then, as they shrug and go back to their conversation, he knows you didn’t. Otherwise, they’d be hurling bitter words and sharp tools at him for breaking their best friend’s heart. 

And honestly, he wishes they were. 

It’s what he deserves, after all. 

♫

“I love you,” you had said, only a couple weeks ago. 

His heart stopped. His throat went dry. 

The words seemed to have been shouted at him, despite the booming bass around them. You weren’t yelling, though, you were simply telling the truth. 

A truth he wasn’t ready to hear. A confession he didn’t know how to process. 

How could you, a perfect person, love him, someone so tainted and dark? 

How could he ever love you the way you deserved? 

He did love you, of course. He knew it long before you ever confessed, but it was never something he felt okay to share. 

You always made him feel safe. Comfortable. Dare he say it, loved. 

But love was something he had never felt before, and to have something means that it can be lost. And to not lose it tragically, he must be the one to take it away. 

Hearing the words fall from your lips was both the best and the worst thing he could ever hear. He craves love, he knows he’s admitted it. He craves it more than anything else in the world. But wanting it and having it are two very different things, and now that he has it, he regrets asking for it. 

He had to hurt you then, before your soul could be completely shattered later. He had to stop it. Right then. Before he let you in too much and you got too attached.

So, he lied. 

He broke his own heart with every word, but it was nothing compared to the damage he knew it was doing to your own. He wanted nothing more than to sweep you into his arms, hold you tightly, and say it was all just a spell - an outside force trying to drive you apart - but he couldn’t. His fear of hurting you triumphed over his love for you. His mouth spoke before his mind could process the words he professed. He became unrecognizable to himself by the time he delivered his final blow. Your tears stained your perfect face and your posture was defeated, but he was no longer the one that could offer any solace. He was now the one that ruined you, and there was no coming back from what he had done. 

How terrifying it is, that three little words can make or break you. 

How terrifying it was, to wake up the next morning and realize the damage caused. To have to come to terms with the fact that he had broken the only good thing in his life. To imagine the love of his life sitting on the couch, stirring coffee, with a head full of questions neither will ever be able to answer. 

“I love you, Kai Parker. I love you, and I don’t want to apologize for it…”

“I love you,” ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Hello! Can I ask a jealous Hiccup bc f!reader spends time with the rest of the team (especially Snotlout)?

Plus, if you like, he does his best to get her attention and you end up confessed to her (a little bit of angst would be nice) <3

Thanks! I love very much how you write, I hope you have a nice day~

The Jealous One

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,170

An old friend starts to act odd. Snotlout is slightly less so.

Tags: fem!reader, jealousy, beginning of Snotlout friendship, ambiguous Post-first movie pre-httyd 2 timeline, part one

Next>

Your footsteps rung hollowly, the sound of thick leather rubbing against stone nearly drowned out by the distant sound of bustle and the ominous creaking of the Great Hall’s large doors.

Similarly, you remembered the way the wood sounded against your hard soles, the sound of the gently rushing water and mindless, careless chatter- how your heart felt as you very certainly ignored the small form of Hiccup and his Night Fury fading off into the skyline.

There was no one capable of avoiding your sour eyes as you meandered, feeling sort of potently, upsettingly upset in a way that you thought shouldn’t have been natural. It was so intense that you had no grasp on any part of the world, empty hands grasping at loose threads, slipping past all but the one that decided that, in this moment, you should struggle heavily against the full weight of years and more than a handful of nasty, lonely tears, all of which eager to burst past the safety of your eyelids.

You surely didn’t miss his griping, or his judgment, or any of his whining. You didn’t miss the feasts, the dark nights, the hiding away, the moping and you certainly didn’t- You didn’t miss- You grit your jaw holding steadfast in the same way a jailer did before a break, a warrior before he swung his sword, wishing dearly that you’d anyone else- any other friend. 

You wished you had some larger rocks to kick, too.

“Forgot my fucking coin pur-“ Your shoulders jerked as you startled, chests meeting with a force that was dull but no less breath-taking, not not nearly as startling as the feeling of stone cracking against the hard bone beneath your skin, the slamming of teeth against each other, deeper than you could have every though they could go, grit as they were, and the way the earth seemed to dissipate around you, making way for air and vertigo as you nearly slipped backwards down the stairs of the Great Hall.

 “Gods,” You hissed, thick bits of gravel digging into the sensitive skin of your palms, stinging as you lifted them. You pushed yourself upwards, running your hands down the backside of your skirts, urging away dust and grime.

You squinted. So we meet again.

“Watch it,” Snotlout ground out, looking quite annoyed with his arms crossed, standing as if he was a taller man than he was a step or so above you.

You glared at him… then you smirked. The first thing you noticed- Hookfang was missing. Absent.

It was surprising but not shocking. The Riders and their dragons had separate lives, of course, the Jorgenson Rider and his steed more so than the rest. Even as, in the minds of most, they remained so closely associated. 

Hookfang was quite the socialite, or at least a watcher. The Nightmare was also just as revolted with his Rider as he was foul when it came to others speaking ill in his presence, which usually made back-talk quite difficult. 

“What are you doing here?” You shot at him. It was a stupid question, a simple one. It didn’t matter what was siad, though, not really- it was more about the fight laying underneath, or the lack of, or the mix of both.

You’d been seeing him much too often nowadays, though truthfully, now more than ever, his face hadn’t been one you hated. It was as pleasant to look at as he was a wordsmith, which was to say that it wasn’t pleasant-looking at all. Still, it was a balm to your aching guts. And so, in place of genuine conversation, if his jeering was all you had to work with, you found you didn’t much mind it.

You’d never show it, though.

You took a determined step forwards, glaring straight into his eyes as other Vikings  came and went, brown-furred and tan-tunic-ed shoulders knocking into yours and passing through the open doors of the Great Hall like schools of fish.

Snotlout huffed, furrowing one large brow, open-mouthed frown exposing one large, missing tooth, “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

You adjusted your shoulders, stepping up with your other foot and crossing your arms, nearly meeting him chest-to-chest.

“None of your business,” You grumbled, feeling petty. “ Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“I’m here for the grub,” Snotlout scoffed down at you, “That’s where I have to be. Not my fault you’re too busy skulking to watch where you’re going.” 

“I don’t skulk?” You asked incredulously. 

“Not in a million years, and unless you’re offering to pay, then I got no time for you, small fry.” He grunted.

You hid your wince. That was a nickname born only after Snotlout had trained his dragon and the Riders had fought larger battles. You resented it, sometimes, just as much as you embraced it. It was a token of something else, a name perhaps mostly meant to show you how little you meant in the grand scheme of things.

“Like you’re much of a catch, either,” You shot back gleefully, roughly huffing away your discontent. It was easy to smother as you rolled your eyes and grinned for the first time in what felt like a long while, forcing the ends of your mouth tightly upwards.

Snotlout scoffed at you condescendingly, looking up at you with his arms crossed and stance stout, cocky as ever.

“I don’t have a dragon,” You grumbled under your breath, feeling scales catch against the rough padding of your fingertips, struggling to keep a hold as tough muscle writhed like silk between your fingertips.

You tossed down the Terror perhaps a bit too roughly, wincing as it caught on to your sleeves with dull claws, spine twisting as it made a valiant effort to land on its feet. It was by some miracle that it landed anywhere else, meeting flesh instead of dirt or hand, quickly grabbing hold of Snotlout’s face.

You hid your grin behind a pitiful wince, watching an already grumpy, irksome viking become frantic below. The Terror screeched as Snotlout hurried to try and push it off, shouting and irritated, both of them flailing around, fingers scrabbling at claws which dug into his jaws and cheek in turn.

His pain brought you joy. 

It was a malicious joy, one born partly from the feeling of victory, something small and petty left over from an old, fading rivalry, the other majority born from the fact that you'd been dragged along on a chore that had never been yours to begin with and it was his fault.

Your thighs relaxed slightly as you shifted, straddling a thick bark body and wooden spine. You sat up high in the trees, leaning against an old, heavy trunk, feeling the points of any branches and the folds of leaves pressing against you through your clothes, feeling quite loathed to make things easy for him.

It was by the hand of a tall, burlish woman that you’d been rushed into your quest, lips nagging with such an intensity you’d been startled into silence, pushing as if the crying mouth of her child had been a timer by which she had been bound and had then bound the two of you.

She had been quite standoffish and brash, preoccupied and frazzled, yet sharp- one of the more warrior types, covered in armor with large spiked helmets. The kind who, when they eventually had children with the least suited fathers, looked awfully out of place, busy and regretful. 

You were sure, in a few years, her kids would be quite the hellions. You almost felt a little bad for them, between your efforts to wipe their spittle from your face and back far enough  away with enough time to spare to keep your hearing intact.

So, you almost hadn’t held it against her. 

Of course, you were about the right age to be a Rider, the only demographic who was, in name, saddled with a duty to manage the dragons, to change the minds of many in favor of the good of all. However, you weren’t one, though you doubted she cared much at all what creed you belonged to as long as someone got her job done and it didn’t have to be her. 

You found conflict in the sentiment the same way you found conflict in the fact that you’d been robbed of any of the benefits of any title that came from living on Berk- you failed to understand why their hardships fell to you as well.

In regards to Snotlout, this was the one instance in which he’d offered no rebuke.

So, instead of leaving, which you supposed would have been a very viable course of action, and not at all because you had nothing better to do, you settled for trouble.

You smiled as the Terror left a particularly hard bite on Snotlout’s nose.

“You know what you need?” Snotlout complained, roughly tugging a branch from his shoe, hopping on one foot as he kicked aside a particularly feisty yellow-and-purple Terror.

“What?” You hissed, glaring at him stubbornly. Privately, for all the trouble it had wrought, you thought it served the little pest right. 

“You need a dragon.”

You snorted, looking down at your hands. You wondered when you’d stop being dragged along on chores with Snotlout. It was becoming a pattern. “A dragon?”

You glanced upwards. You had an idea of the load- of the tasks, the jobs, the chores, but good Gods. It was nearly getting to be too much.

“It would make things a lot more convenient. For me.”

“If you can get me one,” You rolled your eyes and your neck, shoulders cracking as you picked a long stick-with-leaves out of your hair. “I would be happy to have it. But I’ve not had very good luck yet.”

“Then-” Snotlout seemed to pause, but only momentarily before yelling again as the Terror launched itself at him again. 

You shook your shoulders loose then winced, stepping  forwards again, a pain both dull and blooming bursting through the sole of your foot. 

You lifted it up, hopping and pulling up your sole to see a hefty thorn stuck right in the middle, squinting, using dull nails to pick fruitlessly at it, efforts half hindered by the setting sun and dimming light. 

“Meet me back here tomorrow. If I’m going to be stuck with you, then-” Snotlout lifted a finger into the air, quite clearly still off-put by the terror’s attack, something odd and purplish bleeding where it had split skin.

He inhaled deeply before stumbling off the path.

You waited for a moment, watching, before shrugging gaily and deciding that it was probably fine. The paths here weren’t that steep, you knew.

“Sure,” You said simply, continuing on your way walking down the path. You decided that whichever foul soul thought Terrors would be a great starting dragon for the children deserved to be hung. 

You promised yourself you would give Hiccup a piece of your mind later.

“-Right, yeah, uh, so, I- well,” Hiccup said, shifting from one leg to the next, before stilling completely.

It looked like you’d caught him fresh from flight-and-crash as the browns of his leather were more mud than hide. His hair was a mess, more of an ugly bed-head than wispy and windswept, though you found it endearing all the same. 

“Hey,” You scuffed your feet awkwardly into the dirt. You had dressed lighter for the occasion, something less green and blue- you glanced down before staring straight ahead, meeting Hiccup’s eyes head-on.

There was an odd, reddened, blotchy quality to his face in a way he hadn’t had since he’d just started riding Toothless, before soft, land-bound skin had gotten used to the winds whipping past his cheeks.

You were careful not to stare too long lest you somehow accidentally revealed your affections, thin as a spider’s web though just as elegantly woven, spreading wide and reaching many parts of you you’d rather keep hidden. In many instances, you found it entwined with a braid of bitter something, knotting and pulling, weighted. In the moment, you were most focused on keeping your basket, and therefore its contents, out of view and out of discussion. 

Your nose twitched.

Dragon-training, to you, at least, felt as if it was a personal affair. In that sense, to involve hiccup, someone who was, at this point, an outside part, felt most definitely like interloping, and so, in that sense, he was most definitely not welcome.

Though you doubted he would, if he asked, you would loathe having to explain, or having to come up with an explanation for, well, anything. It felt sort of wrong to share something your heart urged you to hold so preciously, Snotlout aside, and so, in that sense, like most of your precious things, it was of the utmost importance that you keep it hidden.

From Hiccup to dragons, precious thing to precious thing, an affection prone to hurt and a bond intended to be, new and violate- perhaps it was exactly Snotlout’s apathy that made him easier to deal with, the certainly that each of his words would be just as biting, an equal amount sharp, all just as meaningless. The lack of hope a balm, each word more flat ground than a toe teetering on the edge of a string, wobbling and ready to fall either which way.

“Let me just-” You shifted to the side. The two of you were standing face-to-face in the open door to the newly minted dragon stables.

There was plenty of space for you to move, though you did so more to graciously cut through the awkward atmosphere, to split the spell that had broken between the two of you as of late, though you were hard-pressed to understand why.

You met each other step-for-step as you attempted to pass, and through that there was born a sparking frustration in your lower stomach. 

You weren’t sure where the feeling had come from, or maybe you were, but in that moment, you felt foully towards him. You cursed him, who had shown his face just as you had begun to muster up some excitement for something new, with the audacity to look so dazed and joyful after having the gall to leave you feeling so alone for such a long time over and over.

His fruitless search for things nearby would lead him to leaving, you were sure- leaving permanently without so much as a care or a goodbye, leaving you destitute, with nothing better to do than butt heads with petty cousins… if he didn’t take the cousin with him, that was.

“You should stop giving the children Terrors.” You wanted to say something worse, feeling sort of haughty, mouth twitching as you made a considerable effort to smother all the bitter feelings broiling in your gut.

“Uhm,” Hiccup nodded, twitching to life suddenly, as if he’d just come back into himself, “Right?”

You crouched behind a sizable rock, one hand clutching tightly at a sharp, pointed ledge, nose wrinkling at the sour smell of fish which had followed you even long after you’d discarded your hefty basket.

You were on the far side of the island where most of the dragons here lounged, unclaimed. 

Dirt and sharp pebbles ground into your palm as you peered over the top, rocky ledge giving way to reveal a vibrant, blue-looking Thunderdrum. It was standing in a way that was quite posed, on all fours stout as it nosed around in a small clearing, strong breaths pushing against a healthy dusting of grass with each exhale. 

Despite its oddness, it was quite frightening. The dragon was sort of small in the back, but its jaw was large enough to make up for it, and it had a large, beefy set of arms for a Thunderdrum, which made you a little nervous.

Its mouth opened oddly to grasp the small strands of grass and leaves, its neck clearly not built for that kind of consumption. It ended up tearing up dirt whenever it pulled too hard or bit too deep, and whatever it could get ahold of was only roughly nibbled before being quite accidentally dropped.

Thunderdrums didn’t come into the forest that often, so this was your lucky break.

Maybe it will work this time?

“Are you sure this isn’t going to be too much for us to handle?” You shifted, scales shifting against your own hand, which was feeling both quite damp and warm, slime dripping from the ends of your fingers onto the dry crushes of grass by your feet. 

You hoped you’d be able to please at least something with your meager offering before it gave your fingers wrinkled, though you were afraid you were much too late. 

Most of your morning was spent speaking away from Hookfang, who gorged himself quite readily on your catch, watching cautiously all the while as if he knew the two of you were about to do something stupid, yet too bored to do much to stop it. The rest of it was spent putting your ancestors to shame, failing at a great number of things- finding a dragon most particularly.

“Like I said. I’m not gonna help you tame some lame dragon,” Snotlout scoffed, “I don’t do small fry, small fry. So are you going to get it or what?”

“Alright, Chief, keep your trousers laced,” It took you a considerable effort not to make an ass of yourself as you spoke, scowling.

You furrowed your brows with determination, setting your jaw assuredly, shifting on your feet behind the rock. Snotlout peered over the top too, horns sticking out obviously over the edge of it.

“So I just, what- give it the fish?” You asked, half in a whisper, “Should I, like, toss it, or hand it over, or…?”

“How should I know?” Snotlout asked exasperatedly, at a pitch that was perhaps just a bit too loud, “Do I look like the ‘Dragon Master’ to you?”

He asked that last bit mockingly, shrugging his shoulders exaggeratedly, using his fingers to make air quotes.  

“Are you serious?” You asked, gritting your teeth. “But you have a dragon.”

“Well,” Snotlout shot back. The two of you turned to gripe at each other, barely noticing as you were overshadowed, though not caring very much as to what was doing it, “That’s wimp stuff. Hiccup did all the taming.”

You opened your mouth wide, tongue lit with a scathing rebuke. Before you could respond, a loud, malicious, echoey rumbling seemed to fill the air around the two of you.

Slowly, you looked up, shivers, dread and the phantom of a cold sweat gathering around your temples and your spine. You heard the shifting of fur against helmet that dictated that Snotlout was doing the same. 

“Oh, Thor.” You managed to squeak, staring up at a long row of sharp teeth and a wide, angry blue face.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

on the subject of Frank, Frank & Julie, and Franklydear 

I used to think that Frank will probably be one of the more skeptical puppets, and prone to being one of the first to see that not all is as it seems. And I think the majority of us think/thought this! 

But thanks to Riv i have entirely changed my tune. I think Frank will actively be avoiding the truth & clinging to the illusion. Here’s why!

Frank is portrayed as the most “rigid” neighbor - hell, it’s even part of his design! He likes routine, rules, for things to be ‘just so’ in his eyes. He doesn’t seem to like it when things stray from how they’re supposed to be. Everything has a time and a place. 

(and this might be mildly insane but blame Riv not me bc they said it, but in Just So Frank says “i like it best when red goes in front of the rest”, and if red is Wally… dot dot dot…) 

Then there’s how Frank will very likely be trying extremely hard to be something he’s not. And this is part of his design, too - he’s the only one in the cast without a natural blush. Yes, we’ve seen art where he can blush, but that’s in specific situations. In the bio images Frank is the only one without that little extra bit of color to his cheeks - he has two huge red splotches on him instead. Fake blush. Big and bright and impossible to ignore. 

And I’m gonna be diving a bit into Franklydear & Frank’s relationship with Julie because it’s important to this. 

I have also changed my tune on Franklydear - slightly. Welcome Home seems to be an example of nonlinear storytelling, as we’ve been getting bits and pieces from all over the place. The Live Interview from the early days, WHRP & Wally’s secret vinyl audios from “now”, the bug audios from an indeterminate time… so while I do think Franklydear is “already happening” within the main meat of the “past”, we will likely also get a chance to see before and after. And I do think there will be an after.

But I’m getting ahead of myself! Why do I think we’re going to see an established Franklydear? I’m going to be honest. A kofi post that I accidentally saw when a friend was sharing their screen with me and didn’t notice until it was too late </3 I should have looked away! But I didn’t, and that’s on me! I won’t say what I saw (it would be a theory anyways, nothing explicit or concrete in the evidence!) but it immediately convinced me that Frank & Eddie are in a secret relationship. I want to say more very badly, but if i’m proven right in tonight’s stream then I will be sharing Why I’m right. 

More reasoning that is obvious with this context - the whole “Mr. Dear / Frank- i mean Mr. Frankly!” thing might be part of this fabricated distance. I would completely believe you if you told me that Frank had them both refer to each other professionally to keep up the facade that they’re nothing but neighbors, nothing going on here nosiree. They definitely don’t meet in the woods to be romantic! That added with how unusually playful Frank is with Eddie in 8-14 is interesting… though I can also believe that those audios are from “before” their relationship, given that Frank seems to be dropping a hint with the whole “ You don’t need to be that familiar with them in order to get to know them better!” line. I don’t know - there are a bunch of contradictions that could be them acting, could be differences in the timeline, who’s to say yet! 

Anyway, so Franklydear is likely in a secret relationship, but I think Frank is going to get scared, call it off, and try to force a relationship with Julie. As in lying to her and everyone that he has feelings for her, and fulfilling their “destiny” in becoming a couple. I think Frank is where a lot of the internalized homophobia is going to come in.

In most of the Franklydear art we’ve seen from Clown, Frank seems to be very nervous and flustered around Eddie while Eddie seems to be more calm and forward. Frank has already proven to have a bit of a nervous disposition - he’s certainly high strung. That combined with his rigidity, the airs he puts on, and just… everything about him really, I don’t think he’ll be able to handle the pressure. 

(side note: the way that Clown said that he wishes they hadn’t let everyone know about Franklydear, it’s ok because it’s “not a major spoiler” has been fucking me up a little. Wym it’s not a Major spoiler? It’s so funny… we’ve all been like “Franklydear will be Thee relationship and a big thing-” and then it’s Not. lmao) 

Then there’s the song Clown associates with Franklydear, “Esperar pra ver”. @/Theneighborhoodwatch gave a translation/interpretation of the lyrics - cannot for the life of me find the og ask/post to link, but (if I’m remembering correctly) it was essentially said that the song is about love that doesn’t last / lost love. My friend Akemi (@/akemima <3) provided an alternate interpretation - to quote:

“...to me, it speaks about how they’re both Unable to speak up about their love? and the “wait and see” part is most likely them waiting for the other to make a first step or like. something Hopeful yknow?”

As both a tragedy enjoyer and a happy-end enjoyer, I wouldn’t mind either interpretation being accurate, personally! So Akemi has given us a sprinkle of hope for Franklydear! I think that both interpretations have merit, and hey, they can coexist. We might have them together, then Frank getting scared and calling it off, and then a “third arc” of them wanting to be back together but unable to (yet). Who’s to say! 

ON TO THE JULIE PORTION.

For a while I thought that Julie might be the one to pursue a relationship with Frank - both because of the subconscious influence of her “Role” & that she’s bi while Frank is gay. On surface level she would be the most likely of the two to get the wrong/mixed signals and Go For It.

However. Nothing about this project is surface level. 

I’ve already mentioned that I think Frank is going to try very hard to be something he isn’t. And this is backed by how his relationship with Julie is portrayed (another thank you to Riv for pointing a lot of this out & smacking some sense into me <3) 

Frank is all about rules and matching. Julie is all about improv and independence. Riv pointed out that in “Just So” the audio distorts when Frank is changing bowties and Julie asks if it “really matters”. They also pointed out that, apparently in the Halloween outfit references, Frank’s notes indicate that he’s matching with Julie - but Julie doesn’t have any reciprocating notes. It implies that she was doing her own thing and Frank adjusted himself accordingly. Julie goes along with Frank sometimes, but it seems that it’s usually Frank scrambling to go along with Julie. She’s been described as independent and stubborn. Frank is a bit more of a conforming pushover (no offense Frankie, love ya to bits <3). 

Frank is the straightman to Julie’s… I can’t reference the bios anymore but you know! He might be her straightman in more ways than just “he takes things seriously.” 

And really. Frank likes routine, he likes things to be consistent. He’s been with Julie as her best friend / “partner” for so long that I’m not sure if he can easily break away from that - I think a change as big as getting romantically involved with Eddie would terrify him. It might be thrilling for a moment, but then the fear will set in. 

I thought Julie would be the one clinging to Frank, but it’s the other way around isn’t it? 

Frank gets scared & then leads Julie on because he’s trying to act “normal”, the way that’s expected of him. And it fits. One of WH’s themes is the fear of being shunned for / perceived as different by others. Once they know what you are, will they treat you the same? 

And I don’t think Julie would be entirely opposed, either. I wouldn’t blame her for developing a crush on Frank. I mean, it might turn out that she’s “just going along with it” because she feels the same pressure and fear, but hm… I’m not convinced of that given what we know about her character. But if Julie has a little crush on Frank, I wouldn’t be surprised if when he forces himself to like her & initiates a relationship, she either realizes that it really was just a crush, or she’ll pick up on how Frank doesn’t actually have feelings & act accordingly. This option has more merit in my eyes. I think it would also reflect on the “love” theme of her house - I’ve speculated since pretty much day one that she’ll have an arc around realizing that she doesn’t need a relationship or even really want one at present, going against what Playfellow likely wanted from her. 

(and then I start thinking about the whole livestream trivia thing of Julie maybe falling down a hole or into some abyss… and the concept art of her shoes where she’s standing at the edge of a dark abyss… does she fall, does she jump, or is she pushed? If she winds up being pushed, who does it? Barnaby (milk theory babey!) or perhaps she’ll get in a fight with Frank and in the heat of the moment he accidentally causes her to fall, either by pushing or making her lose awareness of her surroundings (backing off of the edge?). I’m aware that this paragraph is a stretch all around! Don’t take it too seriously! A pinch of salt, people!)

There’s not much else to be said so, in conclusion:

Welcome Home’s storytelling is likely on a nonlinear timeline, Franklydear is established but won’t last, and Frank/Julie is probably going to become a temporary thing

[wisteriagoesvroom]

LOL I can imagine for vampire au Lando starting to third wheel Carcar and so even though turning Franco is a complete accident he can’t feel too guilty bc he uses it as an excuse to hang around someone else, and somehow he learns more about vampirism lore through a human grad student than he’s learned in his whole life (he’s lived a long time, lots of info to absorb). Then also, if you don’t mind my ask, what do they all do for jobs/how do they get money and would Franco keep studying ?

HELP this is so cute. ok. norpinto-frando vampire au for those who aren't up to speed...

Lando starting to third wheel Carcar and so even though turning Franco is a complete accident, [Lando] can’t feel too guilty bc he uses it as an excuse to hang around someone else -> screaming cus, absolutely. random associated headcanons for this... i'll rewind a bit:

carlos is the oldest vampire, like, moorish/medieval era. he met lando while they were both at a masquerade ball in the early 1600s and smelled each other right away (carlos like wood and ink, lando like gas lamps and wet stone).

lando is an tudor era vampire. like he actually knew shakespeare and said he was one of the best viral marketers of the era

oscar was turned in the early days of the australian penal colony, he's like first or second generation white australian but he refuses to be called british. he moved in to the house because the rent was cheap and he doesn't feel the need to live extravagantly -- even though he, too, is $$ loaded $$

oscar didn't move in until about two decades ago - very short by vampire standards, to them it feels like yesterday - but carlos and oscar are basically They Were Roommates atp even though they squabble con-stant-ly

their neighbours think they are a new age-y polyam group but because the people who live opposite them are students, nobody ever hangs around longer than a year to remember them or dig deeper

so franco definitely brings a fun funky fresh dynamic

he learns more about vampirism lore through a human grad student than he’s learned in his whole life (he’s lived a long time, lots of info to absorb) -> things that baby vamp!franco teaches lando include

tiktok trends, like how to make ur teeth comically large in photos. lando finds this hilarious

how to use venmo

creating a roster on google docs for who needs to do what house chores

jailbreaking an apple watch so it doesn't read their pulses (they don't have any), but it will remind them of the moon phases and when they might be extra hungry to feed

at one point franco actually puts his academic skills to use and helps lando hunt down some of his family tree, because since lando was turned and it's been so long, he doesn't remember much about them : ( so one of franco's little gifts to lando is helping him trace his heritage

what do they all do for jobs/how do they get money and would Franco keep studying ? -> i love how practical-minded you are. um well let's say this fictional supernatural creatures' market mostly runs on barter trades and goodwill agreements. the entire house sometimes just gets lazy tbh so lando or carlos will just dig into one of the old chests of random shit and pull out an antique and go: "do we think this is worth anything?" then they take it to an antiques dealer who is also a mage (alex albon) and there is a 1 in 25 chance that the antique is actually is worth something, so that bankrolls them for another half a year or whatever.

carlos makes a lot of noise about being "an art dealer" just because he sold a goya painting to a museum once.

oscar is a man of industry, of the "newer" world (australia) etc etc so he spent the 80s and 90s learning C++ and Java and Python so he legit just codes for a living. or when he feels like it. oscar has helped launch at least a dozen startups under various pseudonyms and one of them is even a blue chip company by now. he doesn't do it for money tho. he just does it cus he likes a challenge, and otherwise fights with carlos too much. when he isn't coding he likes to tinker and fix things just for fun. like, he legit knows how to fix a boiler and stuff. his familiar is definitely a grumpy orange neighbourhood cat.

franco keeps studying!! he is such a nerd that he's like "i can totally learn everything about anything now, and i could in theory do like 20 masters degrees, and nobody can stop me"!! then lando is like, "well you might get bored of it after a while or burn out". but franco insists he will not. in fact with his enhanced neurological abilities he goes on an academic bender trying to fast forward through an entire harvard's undergrad degree's worth of material in a week, and he ends up faceplanting on his desk. and then poor lando has to go and find a fresh chicken or something to kill and revive franco 'cus franco wore himself out too fast being a bb vampire with accelerated mind powers.

franco promises never to do that again (but of course he will continue to do it once in a while, and everyone still looks after him in his lil study hangovers because he is so very nice. also he taught them how to use venmo.)

and. one time. franco is like. "i can't find this rare sonnet do you know what library i could maybe locate it in" and lando is like "wait i know that one" and pulls out an honest to god original copy that he at some point got laminated in the early 80s. and franco is like. "um i think this should be in a museum??" and lando is like "yeah but i gave them a copy of this, cus i spilled ink on the corner of this in 1603 after a really good night out" and franco is like "???? ok ????"

then lando swans off to moodily stare at the moon or some shit.

[gothushi]

sugar rush

pairing: charlie x f!reader

warnings: overstim, squirting, charlie smokes a cigarette, hurt/comfort if u squint, somno, one creampie

note: my chat with my charlie bot may be sweet and cute, but this idea is far from it:p took the opening from said bot as well! no outright reader descriptions other than ur shorter, and portrayed as a bit cutesy. reader also has chronic migraines bc i said so. also proofreading this at 3am.. sorry for any mistakes.

word count: 8.3k

———————♡

A shitty day. That’s what he’s had.

Charlie toes off his boots, rough hands pulling his coat off to hang it up, an annoyed huff leaving his lips. Moving into the kitchen, he finds you, his sweet little wife, a little apron on over your frilly outfit and a bowl of batter being mixed up before you.

He’s so tired, pissed, dried blood splattering his sweater, jeans, even his hands which he reveals by pulling his gloves off. Even his hair is a bit out of place, jaw clenched with a sigh coming through his nose.

“Hi!” Ever so happy to just see him coming home safe, you turn to glance at him. You have to do a double take, noting the blood all over him and frown, “Oh please don’t get anythin’ on the floor. I just mopped earlier.”

The oven beeps as it’s done preheating, turning back to pour the batter into a muffin tin, cupcake liners in the slots.

“Don’t be an annoyance,” his voice is rougher than he means for it to be. He knows he has no reason to have an attitude with you. Saying no apologies though, he pulls a cigarette from the pack in his hand as he empties his pockets onto the counter. Shoving it between his lips, he lights it inside and waits for your complaints. “..had a day,” he mutters.

“I don’t care how much of a day you’ve had, go over by the doors!” You complain with a sweet whine, waving a hand in the direction of the glass sliding doors across the living room that leads to the big backyard. You begin undoing your apron after setting the dirtied bowl in the sink.

“You really are a little thorn in my ass, aren’t you.” There’s no real bite to his words, following your instructions to head to the door to smoke, sliding one open as the cool night air filters in.

Leaning against the doorframe and closing his eyes, he sighs through his nose before inhaling, cigarette end fuming red before dispersing as he exhales the smoke. Once the timer is set, you shuffle over, frilly socks sliding along the wood floor. You lay a hand on his upper arm, getting on your tip toes to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“They’re your fav’rite. Strawberry cheesecake.” You smile a little. He can smell your perfume, a sweet scent, mixed up with the muffin batter.

This is his favorite part of the day - coming home to you. Charlie wraps an arm around your waist loosely, his thumb rubbing softly at the hem of your shirt, admiring your cuteness. He glances down, cigarette held between a couple fingers, “Do me a favor, love?”

You’d really like to fuss over the blood on his clothes, not ever wanting anywhere near the stuff when he’s all dirty in it, but decide it isn’t the time. “Mm. What?”

He chuckles at the little attempt you make to get closer, leaning up on your toes. Flicking some ashes outside, he tilts his head, his hand on your waist sliding down over the pleats of your skirt. “Be a darling and go fetch me a glass of whiskey, no ice.”

Smiling, you lean up on your toes again to steal another kiss, on the lips this time. “Okay.” One more against the corner of his lips for good measure, before you head off to the kitchen. Only a moment later do you come back, his request in hand, offering it to him. “Here y’go.”

He’d hum in approval as you kissed him, eyes raking over your body as you walk away. Thankful to have some affection after his shitty day. His hand finds your waist again, the one holding his cigarette taking the glass. He takes a generous sip, closing his eyes for a moment. He visibly relaxes, shoulders dropping some as he looks back down at you. “How was your day?”

That’s where you seem to falter for just a moment. You shrug, hands held behind your back, “Jus’ cleaned. Mopped, did the laundry, had to run a few errands. I read some too.”

He knows you too well. Charlie sees the signs, now that he’s really looking at you, the twinge of your eyebrows, the slight redness to your eyes. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head and setting the glass down on the small table against the wall by the door. Flicking his cigarette back outside, ashes falling to the deck, “Go lay down, love,” he mutters, hand sliding up to cup your cheek. No arguing.

You whine, tilting your head into his hand, “‘m okay.. I wanted to heat up your dinner for you.” You tend to fuss and push through a migraine, going and going until your nearly collapse or cry with the pain, often times doing it just because he isn’t home to stop you.

“No you aren’t, love.” He tsks again, leaning down some more, “You need to rest.” His tone is scolding, “I’ll heat it up myself. But I want you upstairs with a cold cloth over your pretty eyes, okay?”

“But.. I missed you.” You mumble, leaning a bit closer. Just the fact that you get near his bloodstained clothes is a testament to how much you’re craving his presence.

That tugs at his heartstrings, and his heart nearly melts into a puddle. His hand slides around to the small of your back, smiling, “I missed you too, doll,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “but it kills me more to know you’re in pain. So go lay down, yeah?”

Pouting a little, you peek up at him through your lashes. Sighing through your nose, you nod, “There’s a plate made f’you in the fridge. ‘Nd the muffins have to be taken out in fifteen minutes.” You hesitate before leaning your chin on his chest, even over the dried blood, “Come up after you’ve ate? I can run y’a bath…”

Charlie nods as he listens to your info. He can wash off the blood, get clean, snuggle up in bed with you. The last part has him chuckling, nodding, “A bath sounds lovely. Go lay down, my sweet.” He’ll give you one last squeeze before releasing you. There better be a cold washcloth on your head when he gets upstairs.

Listening with no more arguments, you grab some water from the kitchen before heading upstairs. In the bathroom you take a couple of your prescribed pain pills, swallowing them down with a gulp of water and turning the tap on in the tub. Sticking the stopper down, you hold a bottle of bubble bath under the running water and squeeze a little bit out, putting it back in its place on the shelf.

In the bedroom now, you lay down after taking your makeup off, curled up under the covers with a cold, wet washcloth over your forehead and eyes, reclined back into the pillows.

Charlie comes up fifteen minutes later, pushing the door the rest of the way open and smiling at you. There you are, laying prettily under the white comforter. He makes his way over, leaning down to press a small kiss to your lips.

A little noise escapes you, jolting, having almost dozed fully to sleep. Lifting a hand up, you peel the cloth off of one eye, looking up at him. He grins, brow raising a little, his now clean hand coming up to cradle your face. Must have washed most of the blood off in the downstairs bathroom.

“Relax, love. I’m gonna go wash up, okay?” He murmurs softly, giving your cheek a soft pat. A little smile and hum is all he receives whilst his fingers pull the cloth back over your eye.

Once he’s all clean of the grimy sweat and blood, towel wrapped round his waist, you’re fast asleep again, dozing off and on. That’s just adorable. Some water sticks to his skin, mainly dripping from his hair onto his shoulders. He can’t help but pause to admire you for just a moment, before heading to grab a clean pair of boxers. Rubbing the towel over his hair for a moment, he smooths it back and comes to crawl into bed, adjusting himself beside you and being careful not to jostle you in any way.

“Mmm.. smell good.” Well, you did pick out the bubble bath for him. You snuggle into him, keeping your face facing up so the cloth doesn’t slip off, hands hugging the arm he tosses over your front.

Charlie hums in approval, kissing your temple, lips feeling the cold edge of the fabric. His thumb rubs your hip, nosing at your hair to breathe your scent in until his lungs are full. There’s no where else he’d rather be than with you right here - away from his reality of work, no matter how much he enjoys it, in this sweet world of bliss with you.

“My sweet girl,” Charlie whispers.

“Did y’have a muffin? Did they turn out good?” You mumble softly, sounding half asleep. It’s still early for you both, but a nap won’t hurt either of you.

He chuckles, nodding against the side of your head, giving your hip a squeeze, “I had two, love. They were delicious.”

You exhale slowly, relaxing against him and smelling the body wash he used, faint shampoo smell that matches. The soft scent soothes your head, senses fuzzy.

He feels like this is the perfect scene to take advantage of, you being in a sleep, vulnerable state. He’ll have to keep you like this a little longer. His hand slides down to your thigh, giving the plump flesh a squeeze, cheeky smile pulling at his mouth.

“Mmm..” The hum escapes from your throat, shifting closer to him, legs parting naturally from his touch. His fingers slide over the smooth skin there, drawing lazy circles with his pointer. They find the hem of your skirt, reaching up under. He can’t help it, not when he’s got such a cute little thing all to himself.

Another noise, a small hum, tilting your head towards him a bit. “Charlie..” You mumble out his name just ‘cause you can, the touch feels nice. Even despite the consistent throb in your forehead, it feels good.

He loves your little noises so much. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the side of your head with a soft chuckle. His fingers wander up, moving until he finds the lacey waistband of your panties, soft as a little cloud under his touches.

Sighing through your nose, you tilt up some, “Mm.. be gentle..”

He gives a noise himself in acknowledgment to your request, head tilting to press a kiss to your temple. Gentle as ever, his fingers slip under the waistband. Pad of his middle finger finds already slick skin, his thumb rubbing over the lower half of your navel.

Gasping as he feels over your entrance, already aroused, your thighs part some more. The cotton fabric stretches over his knuckles, bruised, soft on his skin, “Mmmm..”

Another approving hum from him. His lips find your cheek as his fingers spread you, middle on swiping through slick to bring it up to your clit, moving in slow circles. He groans himself, kissing at the shell of your ear as he brings his other arm to fold under your head, a makeshift pillow.

“You’re doin’ good,” he whispers, “you’re so good.”

You whine again at the praise, tensing a little, pushing your head back into his arm and your hips up into his touch. Your own hands wander, trying to paw at him, his arm, wherever you can grab. “Charlie..”

He can’t help but love the way his name sounds out of those sweet lips. His head tilts, kissing the side of your face. Your fingers grab at his arm, his bicep. “Mmm,” he groans as you roll your hips down. Now two fingers, they swipe up more wetness, easing the way on your clit in tiny circular motions, “There we go. Just like that, sweetheart.”

Your head turns, wanting a kiss, mouthing at his cheek when you find it blindly. Painted nails dig into his bicep, just holding on, thighs spreading and helping your hips move as he plays with your pussy. More slick drools from you, soaking the fabric of your panties. Even the cloth over your eyes helps to make it feel more intense, as if you were blindfolded.

Charlies tongue darts out to lick his lips, dark eyes watching you yearn for a kiss but he won’t give it to you, keeping himself out of reach with a taunting smile on his lips. He wants to savor this moment like fine wine. “No no, love. Stay still,” he scolds you softly. His fingers slide down, more slick, back up to your swelling clit with quicker movements.

“Charlie-” Your breathing hitches, brows furrowing up in pleasure, knees bending a bit. There we go. He slides his fingers down, middle one rubbing a circle around your entrance, groaning at how wet you are, how hot.

“There we go, sweetheart. That feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Ah-.. yeah- yeah..” You’re gasping, lips parting. “Thank you,” you whine, still trying to lean up for a kiss, one hand pushing at the covers over you both.

He laughs again, loving to tease you as he tilts his head back out of reach again. That finger will press firmly against your entrance, then slide in slowly, stretching you out a little, “You’re gonna keep being good for me, aren’t you?”

Your jaw drops at the touch in a silent gasp, tensing up a little, accepting the breach. “Charlie!” You whimper, nodding even though you can’t see him, “Yes! Yes.”

He buries his face against your shoulder, watching what he can see of your pretty features, kissing at the exposed skin of your collarbone. His breath is hot and heavy, leaning up by your ear, pressing in to the knuckle. “There you go, feels sooo good..”

He goes slow to ease you into the sensation as you squirm, wiggling down onto that single finger. Your own fingers tighten on his bicep, lightly scratching. It feels so good, you’re so sensitive, pent up, easily pleasured.

He can’t resist another laugh at your writhing, shushing you, “Shh, just relax. Let me take care of you.”

That finger keeps pressing in and out, in and out, curling up on the in rhythmically until he slowly presses a second one along the first, slick covering his fingers and smearing against your panties. He curls them again, going deeper and deeper to find that sweet little spot.

The stretch has you whimpering, and he knows he’s found that spot when you jolt and cry out, trying to lean against him, “There-”

“There?”

He abuses the spot automatically, lips kissing at the underside of your jaw, giving a light suck.

You sound like you’re actually crying, panting softly as whimpers spill from your mouth with every rushed exhale. “Charlie-.. Charlie.” You can feel the embarrassing mess in your underwear, can hear the slick noises of his fingers fucking into you, face flushing. Your nails dig into his arm, leaving crescents at one hand drops down to grab at his wrist.

His teeth scrape over your skin. He knows you so well, knows what your sounds mean and can tell how close you are. “Mmm, that’s my girl. My good girl.”

He groans at the thought of seeing the mess all over your pussy, panties stained with slick and cum. His mouth sucks at another spot, sighing through his nose.

The heel of his palm keeps bumping against your clit, oh so sensitive, making your hips buck into the feeling. Huffing out a whiny moan, tossing your head to the side, the cold washcloth starts to slip off your head. Arching up, your legs squirm, “Charlie-! Feels- oh-”

You’re just adorable when you moan like that, writhing under his touches. He gives another groan. He wants to hear more, he’s addicted to your little whimpers and whines. “You gonna cum?”

His fingers pick up the pace a little, in and out, curling, massaging that spot whilst grinding the heel of his palm over your sticky clit. Your thighs clench together before spreading again, eyes rolling into the back of your skull with a soft cry, “Yeah- mhmm!”

“Shh,” he soothes softly, using the pressure of his forearm to try and ease you flat to the bed, halting your writhing. His head rests against your shoulder, watching, feeling. He’s never going to stop being addicted. Addicted to your body, your moans, your soft skin, your sweet pussy.

“Almost there, aren’t you?”

A few more bumps with his palm against your clit and you’re crying, real tears dripping down your temples into your hairline. Tilting your face towards him, gasping, nodding with a whiny noise. “Ye-ah! Yeah, g’na.. Charlie..” You’re pawing at his arm with both hands, leaving little red marks from your nails, watery eyes looking into his.

He’s so, so close to seeing you fall apart. The way your body responds to everything he does drives him mad, your back arching, head tilting. He loves the way your moans get higher and whinier, sweet noises until you’re sobbing.

“That’s my sweet girl,” he groans, grinning, nodding his head as he presses his palm down onto your clit more, fingers massaging that sweet spot in you. “You’re allowed to let go.”

You’re right there, so close, muscles tensing as the coil wounds up tighter and tiger, “Charlie- Charlie.. ‘m.. mmm! Can- please can I-“ You can’t even properly string words together, pleading.

Oh, he knows just what to do. He kisses the side of your mouth, giving you permission. “Cum for me, love,” he whispers hotly, almost gasping himself, “can’t you feel how close you are to the edge? You’re right there. Let go and I’ll catch you.”

You crumble into tears, crying out as a powerful orgasm crashes over you. Clenching tightly on his two fingers, being fucked through it slowly, he coos. Your legs writhe around, little moans escaping you as you pant. Your heart hammers in your chest, whimpering out little babbles that sound like his name. He just lives for the sound of your moans, continuing his movements albeit a bit slower, fingers soaked in your cum. He’s grinning against your ear, eager to hear more cries and sniffles from you.

Your hands are quickly grabbing at his wrist, hiking up your skirt further and you whimper and whine, “Charlie! Charlie, Charlie-” Your hips wriggle around and the pleasure turns into oversensitivity, aftershocks rolling through you like thunder.

Overstimulation gives him such a high, knowing it’s coming from the pleasure he’s inflicting. He gives a deep, pleased hum as you give another sweet cry, still rubbing against your swollen clit, wanting to hear his name again, “There we go.. ride it out.”

Charlie is relentless at you gasp and cry, nails scratching, leaving red marks in their wake. Whimpering again, you twist on your side towards him a little, legs like jelly. “Sto-ah! Stop, no more, sens-sensitive!”

He feels you struggle against his hand, humming lowly, “Mm mm..” His hand finally slows down more, fingers slipping from your hole and swiping up some cum. He presses a kiss to the side of your head, “So sweet and good for me. So good. Such a good girl.”

Panting hard, your thighs squeeze together, fabric of your panties sticky as you try to shield yourself from any more stimulation, whining. Charlie moans as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking your cum right off the digits. Hugging his bicep, you whimper, “Mm… hnng-..”

He groans at the taste of you, cleaning his fingers, “Sweetheart.. you taste amazing,” he mutters, giving you a little nuzzle against the side of your head, kissing your hair.

Whimpering softly again, your eyes flutter closed for a moment as you just breathe. Honestly.. your migraine feels better than it did before. You bring a hand up to wipe your tears, sniffling. He tugs you closer to his chest, a hand gently brushing hair from your eyes with the tenderest of touches, leaning down and kissing the salty tears away.

“Hey..” he murmurs, cooing, nuzzling down into the crook of your neck to press kisses to your skin, “You okay?”

“Mmm.. mhmm..” You nod, breathless, peeking down at him with lidded eyes, flushed, “Head.. feels better.” It comes out giggled, softly.

That’s what he was hoping to hear, elated. Always happy to hear his trick has done its job, he tilts up to kiss the tip of your nose, “See? That’s all y’needed, hmm?”

“Mhmm..” You’re giggling again, “‘m all sticky..” Your tone is complaining now, whiny.

Ah. Yeah. He should probably take care of that. He chuckles quietly, groaning as you nuzzle into his bare chest, “Poor girl.. let me clean you up. Can you lift your hips for me, love?”

“Mhmm.. yeah.” You’re all satisfied, sleepy, easily complying to his words.

Charlie nods, getting up on his knees and tugging your panties off your body. Tossed aside, his dark eyes greedily scan the mess of your pussy, shiny with cum and slick. There’s something so pleasing about seeing the mess left of you.

“So pretty like this, love.” He mutters, leaning down to suckle at a spot in your inner thigh.

“Charlie..” You’re whining again, a hand tangling into his damp hair. A thin layer of sweat coats your back and chest.

The way you whine in that sweet, sweet tone, hand in his hair, has him shuddering. His head dips lower, tongue sticking out and sliding over the mess he made of you, licking along the length of your pussy. He groans, eyes fluttering as his tongue flattens over your clit.

“Ah! Charlie!” You squeal, tightening the hold on his hair as your legs jerk and writhe around.

He groans again at the sound, the noise vibrating against you and making the overstimulation worse. His eyes fall shut as he continues, continuing to lick over your pussy, greedily taking in the mess of cum. His hands wrap under your thighs, holding onto the outsides of them to keep you still, as still as he can have you with how much you wriggle about.

You’re still fighting it though, whining. Your back arches and you’re sniffling, “Charlie- I can’t- can’t, feels so good!” The words are babbled, gasped.

That sweet voice. You just sound so cute with that breathy tone, your body squirming and writhing, twisting in the sheets. His tongue keeps flicking, teasing, tasting.

He knows he’s doing a good job with how you protest, knows he’s doing his job right. His hot tongue swipes over your clit, lips encapsulating as he suckles. You’re squealing out another cry, a heaved sob escaping you. You try to curl in on yourself, shaking, thighs pressing against his hold, trying to draw your knees up. “Charlie! I ca- mmm! I can’t, ‘m too sensitive- sensitive!”

He keeps his pace, fingertips digging into your plush skin, tongue swirling around your clit and flattening again, head bobbing up and down. The taste is just addictive. He finally pulls away for a moment, giving a breath of cool air against the swollen bud.

“Just a little more, love. You can do it, I know you can,” he dives back in, humming.

“Charlie,” You outright sob as his mouth meets your pussy again, slobbering all over and then licking the mess back up, sniffling and whining. Your hand leaves his hair, grabbing at the sheets beside you, sweat beading on your back as your eyes roll into your skull.

You sound so beautiful like this, he can’t get enough. So sweet, so soft and sensitive, all for him.

Your body twists onto your side, head burying into your pillow as you cry again. He manhandles your one leg up over his shoulder, hand finding your ass to keep you up. So good, so perfect. “Please,” he groans a little, mumbled against your clit between panting breaths, “love, c’mon..”

You actually hook one of your hands on the back of your thigh, as if trying to help keep yourself up to be tortured by his tongue. “Charlie! Fff- fingers, please!”

There we go. He pulls back enough to speak clearly, his other hand on your thigh reaching over to swipe his fingers over your clit, thumb rubbing down over your clenching hole, empty, desperate, “What do you need, honey?”

Twitching, you bring your face from the pillow and sniffle. “Fingers.. Please.. ‘nd your tongue again..” Your chest heaves with heavy breaths, skirt hiking up over your tummy, shirt twisted a bit from all your squirming.

You’re just so perfect, aren’t you? Crying out, babbling, begging for his touch. Such a pretty mess he’s left you. He grins, lips shiny with spit and cum. “Anything for my sweet girl,” he whispers, giving a chaste kiss to your clit, “how many fingers do you want?”

Whimpering, almost delirious. You never could handle multiple climaxes, especially not after so soon. “Mm.. mmmph.. two.. Please Charlie..”

Two? He couldn’t possibly say no to you. He gives another growly moan, head tilting to nip at your thigh as his hand slides from around your thigh, fingers already slick again as he rubs over your entrance. You’re throbbing, feeling your clit actually twitch with the stimulation, pussy clenching around nothing.

“You want my tongue again too?”

“Hnnng- both. Please.” You’re nodding eagerly, not even sure you can really handle it but you want it. Eyes lidded, unfocused, chest heaving with panting breaths.

“Pretty girl..” His fingers slide in, both at the same time, stretching you back out. You breathe deeply, gasping stuttered inhales, sniffling and whining. You want this so bad.. just one more.

“Mmmmph!”

Those fingers curl, finding that abused spot again, “So good.. perfect little girl..” His tongue darts out, giving little laps between his words before suckling on your clit again. “You’re doing so good, honey, that’s my good girl.”

You’re all sweaty, whining high in your throat like a wounded puppy, trembling all over. “Please- hard- harder, faster.. wan’ it.” You beg. You want to be overwhelmed, to be forced to take it.

That whine. He could listen to it on loop for hours. His tongue pulls away, leaving just his fingers fucking into you, pumping in and out harder, a bit quicker. “Is this what you want, doll?”

You’re squealing another cry, shaking all over as you muffle your noises into the pillow, hips grinding down into the touch, “Yes! Oh my God yes.”

He’s never seen anything better than this. Groaning praise against your clit, he goes back to licking and sucking, making out with your pussy as he curls his fingers up. He could keep you like this all day if your pretty body wasn’t so sensitive, make you cum over and over and over.

Not even fifteen seconds pass by before you’re whimpering again, gasping, muscles tensing up, babbling, “Charlie- wait I- nngh! Feels- funny.” Oh good God, he can’t stop now.

You’re right on the edge, coil tightening further, and his fingers are relentless as they fuck into you faster, abusing that little spot.

“You’re nearly there, c’mon, give me it. Just take it honey.”

“No- I feel-!” You’re whining, choppy and panicked. His lips press harder, sucking on your clit like a damn lollipop, noises vibrating against you, making you gasp with a loud sobbing noise. Another orgasm rattles through you, ripping you apart as your release squirts out of you. Heaving a cried sob, your feet kick and your thighs squeeze his head.

He pulls his mouth away, eyes shining with lust as he actually laughs, watching as you gush around his fingers, clamping down like a vice on him, “Oh- oh,” this is new.

It’s a gorgeous sight, watching you lose control of your body. He crawls up over you before you even notice, fingers suck clean as his non wet hand to smooth your hair from your face, easing you onto your back again. You’re flushed with heat, whimpering, pawing at him for comfort from the intense orgasm. That was the first time you’ve squirted, ever.

You’re just so damn cute, all needy, pining for him, “Look at you, doll..” he whispers, kissing your forehead, “So good for me..” He tilts his head down, nose nudging into yours affectionately, “You’ve never done that for me before, huh?”

“Done.. wha’?” You mumble, panting, thighs feeling like lead as your lidded eyes look up at him.

He cups your jaw, smiling, pressing another kiss to your forehead, “Tchh.. don’t worry your pretty little head about it, sweetheart. Just rest, I bet you’re tired.”

It’s adorable, really, how breathless you are, dazed, cum drunk. He takes a moment to go to the bathroom and wash his hands, grabbing a towel and wetting it.

He’s got quite the mess to clean up. He strips your skirt and shirt off, discarding all dirty clothes into the hamper before wiping away the mess you’ve made, all over his chest and your own thighs, cum drooling from your hole. He slips from fresh panties up your legs, one of his own t-shirts on you as he lifts you up and puts you on the other side of the bed. The sheets can wait until morning.

You feel him behind you, cuddling you as you’re curled on your side. His lips plant a soft kiss to your shoulder, humming in content as he relaxes.

But he’s so fucking hard though. His cock has been leaking in his boxers since your tears begun, surprised he didn’t cum on the spot when you squirted. Your hand reaches back, pawing, palming over the obvious bulge.

Charlie’s breath catches, chuckling softly. He knows you’re tired, catching your wrist with his pulling it up to his lips to kiss against your knuckles, “C’mon now, sweetheart. You’re worn out.. don’t worry about me.”

You twist a little, peeking at him, eyes sleepy. “Mmm.. wan’ y’to feel good too..” You slide your hand right back down over him, giving his cock a squeeze over the fabric of his boxers.

Another huffed laugh, shaking his head even as his eyes flutter. “You always want to make me feel good, just get some rest, huh doll?”

“Please.. even if y’do it yourself..” You use the puppy eyes on him, eyes shiny.

God he can’t resist you. “You sure, love?” His hand slides over your forearm, thumb rubbing.

You’re pushing your ass back, twisting back to lay halfway on your front with a knee drawing up, “Mhmmm.. yes please.”

You giggle all drowsy and he can’t say no at all. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

His hips rolling forward, even through the fabric of your underwear he feels so good, grinding against your ass with a sigh. His hand leaves your arm as you turn back, finding the side of your thigh, pulling you back against him firmly. You’re humming out softly, content, leaning further back. You know just how to drive him crazy. He’s huffing, small noises as his brows furrow, wishing he could just take his cock out and slide inside you, but he won’t torture you anymore with pleasure.

“Please.. wan’ you to.. take what y’need..” You’re pleading so sweet, so considerate. You’re always so caring towards him in every way, how could he deny any request you have?

He groans into your hair, eyes closed, panting. “You’re too good to me, doll…” He presses his cock against you harder, as if some horny teenager humping his pillow, leg hooking over your stretched out one.

Your back is arching, aiding the process as he ruts against you. “Mmm.. love you..”

That tired whine, it’s too much. So endearing, so sweet, he can’t help but be so close to cumming already. He nuzzles into your hair, moaning low in his throat. It’s so unbelievably hot, the fact that you’re just about asleep as he grinds against your plump ass, hand grabbing at you. It feels so sinful, he sighs into your hair with a whiny tone, fingertips digging into your skin.

His cock throbs as he moves, stomach tensing, and then he hears you plead, “Please.. cum.”

He gives another groan, biting down at your shoulder as his hips jerk down harder, an orgasm flowing over him as he makes a mess in his boxers, huffing panting breaths. Even after cumming and squirting, a dull throb of arousal floods your senses with the noises he makes.

He comes down easily, satisfied, kissing at the side of your neck as a thank you, “You’re perfect, love.” His hand roams over your bare thigh, massaging lightly. A breathless giggle leaves you, so sleepy, ready for a nap. You don’t even notice he leaves the bed to change, grumbling about the mess before climbing back in behind you, because you’re already asleep.

—

Hours later, the clock reads 12:14AM as you stir awake. Charlie’s arm is draped over you, cuddled into your back. He mumbles something quiet with your movement as you peek back at him, sleepy, bedtime now ruined from the nap you both took.

You turn around in his arms, facing him, admiring his handsome features. The scar on his forehead is prominent, from some accident whilst working that he didn’t detail on. His hair is swept back, soft, clean. Your hand nudges a little, leaning him onto his back, checking that he’s still asleep.

He is, laid back in the dim light of the streetlight outside the window. Still out cold, he breathes in deep. You sit up on your knees and then stretch your arms above your head, hearing something crack in your upper back with a sigh. There’s a soreness in your legs, a reminder of what happened earlier. Tucking hair behind your ears, you lean down and kiss at his stomach lightly, one hand finding his hip.

Charlie gives a sleepy grumble, though he stays dozed off. Even just having a reaction from him this way makes heat curl into your gut. You kiss down lower, finding the waistband of his boxers. You fear it might wake him up if you tug them off his legs, so your hand finds the opening in them and tug his cock out, kissing open mouthed at his navel.

His cock twitches, breath stuttering slightly as your fingers curl around his shaft, massaging lightly to get him hard. It doesn’t take much, his body responds so well just as yours does to his. You let spit drip from your mouth, slicking his cock up as your hands squeezes and moves up and down, slow. Your lips find his bare thigh, kissing and suckling to leave a mark. You want to take your time, careful to try and not wake him up right away.

His cock throbs against your hand, hardening rapidly with the slow touches. It’s obvious he’s starting to get worked up, shifting against the sheets a little, head turning to one side. You move up now, tongue lolling out to lick at the underside of his cock before sinking your mouth down, suckling at him.

Now he’s definitely squirming, hips shifting as he sighs in his sleep, “Hnnng..” he moans, eyes fluttering as his arm moves up by his head. Sucking slow, up and down halfway, you whine a little yourself just at the feeling. You force yourself down as far as you can go without gagging, tongue flat on his underside. Spit drools down to his balls, aiding the way as you suck him off.

He groans, rousing from sleep, tilting his head back against the pillows. His hand comes up to your head, no pressure, just tangling through your hair lightly, petting you.

You hum at the touch, the sound vibrating down his cock, senses fuzzy. You suckle at the head, making a mess of spit as you sink back down again, managing about halfway. You’re flushed with heat, knelt between his legs, back arched and ass high in the air.

“Swe-.. sweetheart.” He groans out, clutching harder at your hair. “Doll… mm- ah-” His voice cuts off as you sink down further, arching up into the touch as his thighs part a little. There’s a soft whine in his throat, barely coherent. “So good..”

Even though you should be absolutely exhausted from the orgasms he pulled from you hours prior, the noises he makes sends arousal shooting up your spine. Sucking harder, you relax your jaw with a whine, eyes fluttering. He’s groaning again, breath coming faster as you work over his cock, all messy and eager.

“Hey..” he rasps, gasping, “Slow down, love.. feels good..”

Obedient, you listen to what he says, slowing down your pace and relaxing some. Hair falls in your face, one hand tucking it back behind your ear, whining softly, noise muffled. You pant through your nose as you push down.. down… down.

The pace is torturously slow, but just the act of you listening to him has him shuddering. His hand tightens in your hair, gasping as he tilts his head down some to look at you. He gives a light tug on your hair, “Hnng- look at me,”

Obeying again, eyes watery from the intrusion near your throat, you peek up at him through your lashes. You gag with a little whimper, drool dripping from your mouth, hands clenching on his hips.

Seeing those pretty eyes looking up at him, it’s enough to force a moan out of him again. You whine again as you force yourself to endure the intrusion, He whines softly, brows furrowing up as color blooms over his cheekbones, breath hitching, “Look at- mm, y’don’t need to push.. that far love.”

You’re ignoring him though, determined, eyes fluttering as you go lower, slowly. Spit dribbles down his cock, wetting the fabric of his boxers. Another nudge as your nose is pressed into the fabric of his underwear, exhaling with a muffled, sighed whine, looking up at him again.

“Ah-” He gasps, body arching as he shifts against the bed. “Sweetheart..” His tone is thick with sleep, heavy with lust, “Please, need you up here.”

Whining, your expression turns as if you were the one being pleasured. You don’t want to stop though, you wanna keep going, make him feel good, protesting softly as your hands flatten on his hips, suckling again as you gag.

He groans again, eyes rolling back as he huffs, “God.. doll.. I need you.” He grabs your hair tighter, giving a slight tug, “Up.”

A whimper escapes you, roots being pulled at and being forced off his cock. You’re so desperate though, tongue laving over his length before you’re pulled away, a thin line of drool hung from your tongue. Hair being held like a cat grabbed by their scruff, lips parted to pant hoarsely.

He sits up with a slight groan, tugging you up as you crawl over his body. His lips crash against yours in a searing kiss, fingers tight in your hair as his tongue licks over yours. Whining a moan, the kiss deep and desperate, heated as you even struggle to kiss back properly, all messy with drool, throat hoarse.

The sound you make against his mouth has a shudder running up his spine, moaning himself as he other hand finds your thigh, tugging you up onto his lap. His hand urges you down, grinding against his exposed cock. Your own arousal surprises you, not realizing sucking him off turned you on that much even though it happens just about everytime. That same hand slips between your thighs, hooking into the front of your panties and tugging them to the side, bare pussy grinding on his cock.

You whine another noise, whimpering, “Charlie-!”

The sound of his name on your lips is damn near obscene. “Yes-.. yes,” he whines against you, hand trembling almost as he grabs the base of his cock, grinding up and pressing in finally.

So full, his cock reaches deep, stretches you out with the slightest burn. Whimpering his name again, you nearly fall forward. Another whine comes out of him, hand slipping from your hair to the base of your neck, teeth grazing your jaw.

Both hands now find themselves moving up under your-his shirt, grabbing at your tits as he lays back in bed again, grunting with the effort, “That’s it.. take it.”

You can feel the heat on your face, traveling over your ears and down your neck, hands on his chest for stability as he gropes at your body. Trying to lift up onto your knees proves too much for your sore thighs, dropping back down and opting for grinding back and forth with a whimpered noise. “Nnmgh! Ff-”

Charlie’s own breathing hitches, thumb flicking over one of your hardening nipples as he grins, “Mhmm.. there y’go, take it.”

The gentle praise has you whining, panting, rolling your hips down even if it hurts your overworked legs. His name falls from your lips again, his own breathing labored, “So pretty.. my sweet girl..”

“‘m .. sensitive.. please,” You don’t even know what you’re pleading for, hands flat on his chest, trying to roll forward.

“Shh..” His hands slip down to your thighs, rubbing over them and squeezing the flesh there, “S’okay, let me help.” His fingers dig in, rolling you forward with his own strength.

He’s forcing you to fuck down on him, your eyes falling shut as he jerks his hips up, “Charlie-!” Your knees dig into the bed, stomach tensing up.

“Easy..” He soothes, his own breath shaky. “Don’t push so hard, you’ll wear yourself out doll.”

He moves his hips up and knocks into just the right spot, making you whimper as your arms shake. Knees spreading a bit more, pressing into the bed, “‘m sore.. please help..”

The one little whiny moan of yours has a groan escaping him, breath hitching as he swallows. “You want something, sweetheart? Tell me.”

He rocks up again, knees bending, fingers pressing into your hips with a breathless laugh, “Yeah.. like that.”

“Mhm!” You’re nodding, muscles tensing as you keep yourself up on your knees so he can fuck up into you. A pathetic noise falls from your lips.

“Mine. My pretty girl..” he whispers, panting. He pushes up the hem of the shirt you wear, tossing the fabric aside. You drop to your elbows on either side of his head, whining in his face, gasping for air as his hips move.

“Mm- love when you make those sweet little noises..” His hands pull you up a little, tongue laving over one of your nipples, suckling. You can feel him twitch inside you, grinding up slow.

Whining again, oh so whiny, your hand cards through his hair and holds on tightly, “Mm! Fast-.. faster. Please Charlie.” You plead so nicely for him, skin heated.

He growls out a moan again, “Yes ma’am..” he mutters, before starting to move in earnest now, fucking up into you hard. It pulls a wounded cry from your throat, gasping for air as his lips move up to your neck. You’re getting the life fucked out of you, barely able to keep your eyes open as they roll back, watering, little uh uh uh’s being fucked out of you.

“Fuu-.. ah..” It’s his turn to whine now, breathing labored as he thrusts up into you. His mouth latches under your jaw, sucking a mark into the pretty skin, moaning, “Mmmph.. doll.”

He’s literally using you like a damn toy, gutteral groans of your name as he holds your hips still, fucking into you. The pace becomes messy and quick instantly, lips wandering to your shoulder.

“Charlie!” You cry again, gasping, desperate for air in your lungs. “I’m- ‘m g’na.. oh my God!” Your back arches further, twitching, right on the edge.

“I know.. I know,” he practically whines, panting as he moves. He can hear the slick noise of your pussy sucking him in, drooling down his cock and balls, making a mess of his boxers. “That’s my girl-.. come on..”

A loud cry is muffled against his neck, writhing around, hands grabbing at the pillow under his head, almost smacking against them. Eyes rolling back, you’re overwhelmed with pleasure as you orgasm, jolting ontop of him with your toes curling. “Oh- Charlie! Oh my- oh my Goood-”

He gives his own groan, just the sound of your whines, the feeling of you clamping down on his cock has him ready to cum, fucking up fast. “There you go.. c’mon..” His hands find the small of your back, wrapping around you, holding you close, “Ah-.. where do you-.. love?” He asks, desperate.

You don’t even think, “In.” you sob, “please, Charlie, wan’ it.” Oversensitivity settles in fast, shaking uncontrollably ontop of him, feeling like you’re being shocked with a fucking taser.

That does it for him. He swears he sees stars as he cums, grinding up hard and slow as it spurts inside you, growling a moan. You can feel him throbbing, trembling, held flush to his body. Whimpering, a less powerful orgasm crashes over you, legs shaking as your feet kick down onto the bed, “Charlie!”

A breathless groan leaves his lips, panting, “Fuu-ck.. you feel-” he can’t even finish his words, gasping.

He works you both through your orgasms, you swear you might black out for a moment, whimpering pathetically ontop of him. He gives a little hiss as your hips jolt up off of him, cum drooling out of your hole. “Shh shh.. easy,” his hands rub over your sides, up your back.

Flopping onto his front fully, legs stretching out along his, you whine. Four fucking orgasms within.. how many hours? Honestly a miracle. “Mmm… mmm.”

“Just lay still..” he murmurs, breathless as he strokes over your clammy skin. He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple, another on your forehead. “Jesus.. think four’s your limit for the night, sweetheart.”

“Mmmmph..” Your lips part to pant, eyes closed, limp onto of his body besides your involuntarily shaking, “New record..” You giggle. Usually you can handle two with.. several hours of recovery between.

He gives a huff of a low laugh, chest heaving. “Yeah.. new record alright.” He sighs out a content noise, humming, “God.. what time is it, love?”

Tilting your head to look at the clock on the wall above your little bookshelf, you hum, “12:30.. guess we shouldn’t have napped.”

“God,” he chuckles, “guess not.” His hands wander down, rubbing over your ass, “You wanna get cleaned up, love?”

“I don’t think I can move.” You mumble, fatigued, worn the fuck out after all that. You legs feel like wet noodles, heart just now beginning to calm down to a normal place.

“Yeah.. thought as much.” He chuckles again, kissing your head once more, “Stay put.” He eases you off of him, getting up from the bed as he tugs his boxers off, using the fabric to roll it up and wipe himself off. “Want anything from the kitchen?”

“Mmmm..” you roll onto your back, stretching out, back arching as you press your knees together. “Water.. couple muffins.” You grin, hands wiping at the drying tears on your face.

Whilst he’s gone, you somehow manage to wobble to the bathroom, cleaning up and using the restroom before crawling right back into bed on the clean side.

He returns a few moments later, carrying a big glass of ice water, three strawberry cheesecake muffins on a little plate, clean t-shirt over his arm and fresh boxers on his body. Must have stopped in the laundry room. ”Sit up.”

Obeying, you sit up against the pillows, reaching out as he gives you the glass. Gulping down a third of it, you set it aside as he slips the shirt over your body, soft and clean. He sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out and cradling your cheek, “There you go.”

You lean into his touch, grinning lazily, skin flush with a pretty glow, “Hi..”

“Hi..” He repeats back, chuckling with a smile. He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, to your nose, then lips, “How’re y’feeling?”

Accepting the affection and kisses, smiling like a happy puppy. “Mm.. ‘m okay.. I love you.”

He grins back, after a few more kisses he pulls back, “I love you, doll.”

Muffin in hand now, you narrow his eyes as he smirks mischievously, “What?”

“Oh, nothin’..” He shakes his head, shrugging as he takes the glass of water and takes some drinks of it. “Just thought a hot bath could be nice..”

That does sound so good, some fresh bedding and a hot bubble bath, maybe a movie after. But you hear the tone in his voice and whine around the bite in your mouth, “Charlie I cannot go again, I think I’ll faint.”

He barks a chuckle at that, reaching an arm around you, “Oh love, I know. I swear, we’d just soak.”

“Mmm.. movie after?”

“Mhm. We’ve got the whole weekend to relax too,” that makes you perk up, peeking up at him.

“Y’don’t have to work?” You mumble hopefully, tilting your head.

“No,” Charlie smiles, shaking his head, “Off call the rest of the weekend. Don’t suppose ya have any ideas for how we could spend that time, do you?” He raises a brow playfully, rubbing your bare thigh.

Swallowing the muffin bite in your mouth, savoring the sweet flavor, you seem to think. A silly little smile forms on your lips, giggling.

“We could try and break your record next.”

———————♡

[blehrbie-blog]

Neteyam x Reader story Part 2?

So, I'm really happy that so many people liked the first story (I don't wanna call it chapter bc it feels like I'm committing to there being multiple chapters) but I may have written a little something else. Now I don't want to say that this will happen again bc I only wrote this because the inspiration struck me, if there is no inspiration I'm not going to drag this story to its death, we will leave it where it is.

That being said (I know, I talk a lot) writing this addition felt nice. it is set quite some time after the first one and I want to specifify that at this point the Reader and Neteyam are well into their adult life so I feel like they're allowed to be a little suggestive. To do the maths. If you didn't know in the movie Neteyam and Lo'ak are 14-15. Then in the last bit of this story he was 24-25, at this point he is in his early 30s. Which is quite a jump but that's how it felt right to me and that's how it came out. So now, enjoy! :D

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previous

The scene I see is of a quiet morning of the two sleeping in bed wrapped around each other. The sweet voice of their daughter being the only thing pulling them from sleep. She runs over, her little feet pattering on the uneven grass.

-Mama! Papa! - she jumps onto their legs bouncing and nudging.

- My sweetness – Neteyam rouses, picking his head up from where it laid tucked between your neck and shoulder. - it is too early to wake your mother. - His eyes are still blurry with sleep.

His gruff voice brings a smile to your face. It's like a sweet tickle to your ears, to get to hear it every day is a blessing. He shifts from behind you and you crack open an eye to watch as he picks up your daughter and lifts her above his head to make her giggle.

-Papa, let me down! - she whines, but she's not really bothered, her eyes are lit up with laughter. She has his eyes and his smile. She has your hands tho, three fingers, and they're so small.  He brings her down in a tight hug and kisses the top of her head.

-My precious girl. - he sets her down and leads her outside the tent with a hand on her head. - let's go see Grandma, hmm?

You lay there with your eyes closed for a couple more minutes. Until you turn over in the sheets, staring up at the top of your tent. You have work to do. There is medicine to hand out and ceremonies to prepare. There is also a child to raise and teach and a husband to keep happy. And it is all so perfect. You almost can't believe that this is your life, that it has been since that sweet moment in the woods all those years ago. You're lost to memories of your early life for a while, it's a precious time. Your thoughts lead to your daughter. She is almost as old as you were when you and Neteyam became friends. And now she somehow exists as perfect proof of your connection. It feels all too recent, like it was yesterday and still like a hundred-year-old memory that has existed in thousands of lives.  

-My dear – Neteyam's voice brings you back from your daydreams. He's at the edge of the tent's opening, sunlight shining through the loose braids over his shoulders - Would you like to join your daughter and me for a morning flight?

You blink a few times taking the time to process and give him a skeptical look – My daughter?

-She is being fussy with her food - he looks down smugly as he says – so she is your daughter this morning.

-And when is she your daughter then? - you prop yourself on your elbows to look at him properly since he's decided to be cheeky this morning.

He hums, pretending to be deep in thought as he stalks over inside to sit down at your feet – When she is being kind and good and listens to her parents. That is when. - his eyes are warm as he smiles at you.

You roll your eyes – Does she take that from you then? Being obedient?

-Of course! - he says in mock offense

-Hmm, interesting. - You press your forehead to his as your eyes close gently, still fighting sleep – I seem to remember a boy who would take me out to fly on his Ikran late at night, when his parents definitely thought he was sleeping safe and sound in their tent.

He presses a kiss to your lips and hums softly – You must be thinking of someone else, dear.

You keep quiet for a bit - Is that so? - your words fall onto his lips as you say them and you pull away, suddenly full of energy – Then I must go find this 'someone else' as he is suuurely my one true love and father of my child. - you say getting up with your back to him. Only to turn around quickly with a mischievous smile and tease in a sing-song tone – As you said, I must be thinking of someone else!

He is still sitting splayed on your sheets with his mouth now open in surprise. You see a quick glint pass his eyes. Dare you say jealousy?

So, you quickly raise your hand, pointing a finger at him – You started this.

He clenches his jaw a couple of times, thinking, and gets up aiming for the door. - Alright then.

The sudden change makes you think you've upset him. You were just poking a bit of fun. But he stops by you and gives you a serious look.

I must say I didn't like that game. - he says, his lips in a pout, and your shoulders ease up. He's not upset.

You grab a small braid hanging by his ear and tug on it lightly. - Is that because I beat you at it? - you say as you look up at him through your lashes.

He hums low in his throat, and brings his face closer, nosing at your jawline – Oh, but I love it when you win these games. - And he presses a warm kiss to the side of your throat. Bringing your chin down with his hand, so he can kiss you deeply. Breaking apart only to whisper - But now, we must go entertain our daughter, as she seems to have your lack of patience, my love.

As you process his words, you hear a whiny call from far away – Papa! Hurry Up!

His amber eyes look into yours as if to prove a point – See?

You caress his face gently - Run along then, papa. I'll be right behind you.

With a quick peck on the lips, he runs out calling to your child. When you've grabbed a pack and stuffed it with the medicines you need for your tasks today you set off right after them ready for a flight into the sky.

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And there we go! Another one! hope you enjoyed this one as much if not more than the first one. But genuinely thank you for enjoying the first one as much as you guys did. Hopefully my attempts at linking it at the top have not failed and if you haven't read it you can have a quick look!