#chapter 5 thoughts sometime later probably | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

penkura · 4 months

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last forever [6/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: This got away from me, it's over 6k words, I'm so sorry. But, here's Robin and a bit of development between our lovely couple, I suppose. I do love Zoro, I promise.

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5]

“Looks like we've shaken them.”

A round of whines from your crewmates is heard, making you smile slightly.

“You guys should be happy.”

Another whine, this time making you giggle while Zoro stares at everyone else.

“Stop that. What's wrong with you all?”

“I miss her!!”

Leaving Alabasta the way you did, barely able to say goodbye to Vivi and Karoo, with her decision to stay in the kingdom rather than join you all at sea, it was rough. You missed her greatly too, but understood her choice and accepted it. You still had Nami, at the very least it wasn't just you and a bunch of boys.

“If you wanted her to stay, you should've taken her by force!”

Hearing the insults everyone throws towards Zoro makes you laugh, even as he looks up at you on the upper deck in annoyance. You wave with a smile still on your face before he looks away. Strangely, things haven't changed much between you since he told you nothing romantic would be happening. Sometimes you feel an ache in your chest when you look at him, thinking about it, but you've come to accept Zoro probably would never take back what he said or try to court you. Once you had some kind of response from your parents, you two would sign your annulment papers and move on, living as crewmates instead of faking being husband and wife for your safety.

“I do agree with Zoro, you guys,” your smile softens as everyone looks up at you in surprise, “I love Vivi too, but if we wanted her to come along, we should've just kidnapped her.”

“[Y/N]!”

“Of course, that would've made us worse criminals,” jumping down from the upper deck, you stand beside Zoro with your arms crossed, “so it's better we let Vivi stay like she decided to. We'll see her again.”

While the rest of the crew agrees with you, Zoro is surprised you're being so agreeable with him after your discussion the other night.

Well ‘discussion’ is putting it lightly and in more positive terms. Sanji confronted him the next morning and mentioned how you'd ended up in tears over what Zoro said to you, making your temporary husband feel bad for a bit. He hadn't meant to make you cry, he was just telling you the truth. Romance was the farthest thing from his mind, it shouldn't even be in yours right now. There are too many other things to worry about, your goals and helping Luffy become King of the Pirates were the main ones. Helping everyone else with theirs was secondary, romance or anything like that was so far out of his mind, he never thought of it being a thing he'd have to worry about.

When he looks at you, all you do is smile, before Zoro shakes his head to move on and get those thoughts that you're still upset out of his head. You probably are, but it's not something to worry about right now.

“Looks like we finally escaped the firing squad.”

“Yeah, finally.”

“Excellent work, swordsman.”

The newest voice makes you all freeze in shock before everyone starts to freak out. Your hand is on your sword but Zoro is in front of you before anything happens, the rest of your crew moving into position against the dark haired woman on board. You barely recognize her as Crocodile's partner Ms. All Sunday, and you're curious about her reasons for being on your ship.

While Sanji swoons over her, Nami and Chopper start to hide behind you behind Zoro, Usopp is shouting warnings, and Luffy is shouting questions, Nico Robin does little more than smile, before saying she wants to join the crew, giving her reason being that Luffy saved her life back in Alabasta.

“I was determined to die, and you saved my life. That's your crime. So I decided I would join you.”

“Well,” Luffy nods and crosses his arms, “Guess it can't be helped. Welcome aboard!”

“Luffy!!”

The next little while is spent with everyone quickly changing their minds about Robin, for the most part. Usopp interrogates her but still believes her to be dangerous, until she pulls a trick with her Devil Fruit powers making him, Luffy, and Chopper burst out laughing. Sanji is smitten simply due to her being a woman, and Robin handing over a bag of jewels to Nami has them in each other's good graces.

Zoro intends to hold out, he's not going to trust her so easily when she was out to get you all until just a few minutes ago. He halfway expects you to do the same, though he doesn't expect the next exchange between you and Luffy a few moments later, once everyone has settled and you're able to pull your captain aside.

“Luffy,” you stay quiet, only he and Zoro can really hear you while Sanji continues to fawn over Robin as Usopp and Chopper ask her to show more of her powers, “Do you really trust her? I mean…she did work with Crocodile.”

Luffy gives you a bright grin and nod, which you return slightly. “Yeah, it's fine! She's not a bad person! You can tell too, can't you?”

“Mm.” You nod, deciding to trust in Luffy and his decision. You climb up on the railing beside him, taking the extra fishing rod to help him get something for dinner. “I'll trust you then, Luffy.”

“Great! Now let's get something good for Sanji to cook for dinner!”

“Haha, right.”

No, you don't miss how Zoro doesn't say anything, instead turning away from you and Luffy, avoiding Robin as she attempts to speak to him before looking at Luffy and asking if he'd gotten any bites yet. She was trying to fit in with you all, Luffy trusted her and she seemed to trust him. You're willing to give her a chance, even if Zoro isn't.

You're sure there's going to be a discussion about this later, and you definitely aren't looking forward to it.

+!+

“You can't be serious that you trust her.”

“Zoro,” you sigh and shake your head, rubbing your forehead a bit. Your head is starting to ache at the thought of a possible argument, “I didn't say I trust her.”

“Oh, and what's your reasoning for not being skeptical? She was our enemy not even three days ago!”

“I get that…but it sounds like she trusts Luffy.”

Zoro sighs heavily and shakes his head at you this time. He's not sure what to do with you, he doesn't want to fight with you about this, but it seems to be the way it's going to go.

He just doesn't trust Robin and doesn't get why you, who seemed to have worse trust issues than he did, ever would.

“And when she betrays us?”

“She won't, Zoro.”

“You don't know that! She could be using Luffy saving her as an excuse to get information and take it to the government or another pirate crew!”

“Oh good lord,” You're nearly glaring at Zoro while he almost snarls at you over the situation, “you are the most untrusting, stubborn man I've ever met! I don't trust her yet, who I trust is Luffy!”

“Luffy doesn't know what he's doing with her! She said something she knew he'd like to hear, she's not safe!”

“Luffy is our captain!” You didn't know your voice could get this loud, nor did you think Zoro's ever would. The rest of the crew must be getting one hell of a show if they could hear you from the storeroom right now. Though, if they could, you're certain Sanji would have run in to defend you and Robin by now.

“What does that have to do with this?!”

“He makes the decisions! If he thinks Robin is safe, I'll trust Luffy!”

“You're being as much of an idiot as our captain is!”

No, he doesn't really mean it, but Zoro wants to get his point across. You should be cautious, wary of this new person who, yes, was your enemy just a few days ago. You get that, you really do, but if Luffy thinks she's a good person, then…

“Yeah, sure! I'm an idiot because I trust our captain's choice!”

“Yes you are!”

“And you're a stubborn, untrusting dumbass!”

Well you've never called him such a name before, and that's more surprising to Zoro than anything that's happened today. You've both said too many things, probably things you don't mean, but it's enough now that he's done with it all. Done with yelling or trying to talk to you about it. He knows you won't listen, you'll both just end up trading insults and he doesn't want that anymore than you do.

So instead, Zoro pushes past you to leave, stopping briefly for one more thing.

“I want those papers later. We don't need to wait on your parents anymore.”

Zoro doesn't let you respond before he's heading back up the stairs, Luffy calling him for something that he's more than willing to do if it means being away from you for now.

You, however, do feel bad for the names you called him, and wish you had stopped him quickly enough to apologize. Had you been able to properly get your words out, maybe Zoro would have listened instead of fighting with you about Robin's recruitment. Instead you both let your emotions take over, said things you didn't mean, and now he was wanting the annulment papers.

Way to go, [Y/N]. You're getting an annulment and probably losing your closest friend.

+!+

Robin finds you with the logbook a couple days later, while everyone else is off the ship checking out the latest island you've docked at. She's not that surprised that you're the one who's keeping track of your adventure, you just seemed like the right person to write out everything that happened. If it wasn't you, she would've expected Nami to be keeping track.

“Anything interesting to record, Miss Logkeep?”

Humming a bit, you nod and finish the sentence you were writing, leaning back as Robin sits across from you. You're still recording all the events of Alabasta, trying to find the words to put everyone's perspective into the log appropriately. Making sure you had all the information meant having to speak with everyone, and with you and Zoro at odds for the moment, it felt like somethings were missing, and you likely weren't going to get anything from him until you two made up somehow.

You haven't taken your annulment papers to him, he hasn't asked again since your argument. Honestly you hope he's forgotten and will let things be until you hear from your parents or he changes his mind entirely. Maybe it's useless to hope for that, but until he asked for them again, you're going to hold onto that hope.

“Yeah, trying to finish Alabasta but…”

“Need someone else's side?”

“Mm…” You nod again, and Robin gives you a smile.

She had heard the argument you and Zoro had, so she knew very well that you two weren't really speaking. Even though it was due to her presence, she didn't say anything to let on that she knew, instead deciding to keep that to herself to see where things went with the two of you. It sounded like you were extremely close, and she'd like to see what your relationship with Zoro really was like.

“Forgive me if I'm prying, but are you and the swordsman close?”

You bite your lip a bit, wondering if you really should trust her with such information. It's not like you have to reveal your temporary marriage to Robin, Zoro would likely demand the papers again and actually sign them this time if you did so. After a moment of back and forth with yourself, you sigh and nod, closing the log with your bookmark in place.

“Yeah, we traveled together before we met Luffy. About eighteen months, I think.”

While you start to relay your story of how you met Zoro, met Luffy, and came to suddenly be a pirate, Robin just smiles and listens to you. Though you and Zoro aren't speaking much right now, you seem happy to be talking about him, like there's something there that even Robin is missing. She's not sure yet, if you have feelings for him, but the smile on your face and the slight blush you seem to have tells her she's on the right track.

“He's saved me from drowning, you know.”

“Has he now?”

You nod again, still smiling. “Not since before we joined Luffy, but a few times. My parents didn't teach me how to swim, Zoro's tried a few times,” you laugh and look at Robin, “I'm not very good!”

Robin laughs with you and gives you a smile. “Sounds like you really like him.”

She has you figured out, Robin thinks, while you blush a little and smile slightly before nodding. You simply have a crush on Zoro, and it seems he doesn't reciprocate it right now. That might change, because she has seen how protective of you Zoro is, having witnessed it first hand when she showed herself on Merry and he was in front of you almost instantly. Although she doesn't yet know all the details of your relationship, she's keen to see what happens.

When Sanji calls you all for dinner, Robin watches you and Zoro. You may not be talking to each other, but you still stay close, seated by each other without much thought, though you don't say anything to Zoro nor does he to you.

Robin knows you two will make up somehow, eventually. It seems as though you've been through far too much together to let one fight come between you.

And if you all do make it to the sky island, there might be a decent chance of seeing how well you two work together in battle.

+!+

“Come on, it's not water.”

You stare at Zoro from the Merry's deck, unsure if you believe him enough to jump down and join your crew. Finally arriving at Skypiea was a weight off and on your shoulders, with how thin the air was you felt like you couldn't breathe at first. Once you were used to that, you thought you were away from the water enough that you didn't need to worry about drowning, until watching Usopp nearly drown to death in the endless cloud sea.

Even with seeing Luffy, Chopper, and Robin freely walk through the clouds without any effects, you still weren't sure about it. Of course, you had no real fear of the water, you'd be a terrible pirate if you did.

However, knowing your inability to swim, you try to be careful on the ship, and not knowing how the Sky Island was, you were more worried than anything, even with Zoro trying to coax you off the ship and say you'd be safe.

You two have barely spoken since your argument about Robin joining the crew, so seeing him try to help you is a surprise. You're both stubborn but Zoro more so than you, which is what led to you spending more time with Robin and getting to know her, trusting her and knowing that she's no longer a threat.

Zoro's not at all impressed with you and how you've avoided speaking to him lately, but leaving you on the ship was not happening in his mind, not when everyone else had left and others were even calling for you. Luffy shouting for you to hurry up, Nami promising it was safe and you wouldn't drown, and even Sanji calling for you and saying he'd found something for you (likely the same flower you'd seen him give Nami and Robin, but it was a sweet gesture).

After another moment watching you debate, Zoro sighs and sticks a hand out to you, making you tilt your head.

“I won't let you fall. You know that.”

He's right, so you finally decide to go with your friends. Stepping onto and jumping off the railing with your shoes in one hand, the other grabbing Zoro's so he pulls you to him and keeps you from hitting the ground immediately, his other arm around your waist to help with that.

“Told ya.” Zoro sets you down and lets go of you once he sees you're stable, turning to follow after the rest of the crew before you grab his arm and stop him. “What?”

“I’m…sorry, thank you.”

“The hell you sorry about?”

“Not talking to you, calling you a dumbass, and fighting with you about Robin. I…we can…sign the papers later…”

Oh, that's what it was. Zoro wondered for a few days why you hadn't said anything to him about your marriage or your fight, he thought you'd just bring the papers to him later and say you wanted the annulment, not worrying about whatever your parents may think. He would've signed them if you did, but hearing the way you spoke just now, the slightest bit of concern and maybe sadness in your voice, it makes him shake his head in response.

“No, just…just leave it alone for now,” Zoro sighs but places his hand on your shoulder, moving you to walk in front of him, “Let's just join the others.”

Nodding, you don't miss how Zoro slightly squeezes your shoulder, before moving to keep his hand on your back and guide you, likely so you knew he wasn't letting you go so you wouldn't fall. It's a strange but kind gesture, even after he'd told you that he didn't have feelings for you and you two weren't going to be a couple.

Part of you wonders if he's lying, whether to you or himself, you're not sure yet though.

+!+

With all the trouble that Skypiea has brought you all, a night of rest and drinking was greatly needed, in your opinion. You'd all split off the next day to search for the city of gold and make your way to the end of sky island, but for now, you'll indulge in some drinks and laughs with your friends.

While he's still busy making food and handing it out, Sanji does, at one point, notice you grab a couple drinks and almost run back over to Zoro to give him one, before you go back to Nami and Robin nearby. How strange you two still are, in his eyes. You fight to the point of silent treatment, then start speaking again just earlier that day, and you're back to your usual self, bringing the mosshead things whether he asks or not. You're far too kind to Zoro, he doesn't deserve you, even though Sanji knows and understands the two of you aren't together. You do too much for him with nothing in return.

Although, rarely, Sanji has noticed that sometimes, it's Zoro who brings things to you in return. You've asked for a book once, something to drink a few times, and more recently had voiced your want for a snack, and were surprised by it a bit later when Sanji brought it to you.

“I…didn't even come ask you yet.”

Sanji shakes his head, scowling slightly before saying “Mosshead came and told me you wanted something to eat. Said I should just bring it right to you.”

You're surprised, mostly because you and Zoro haven't been speaking since your argument the other day.

“I…see…”

The blond knows of your fight, you'd gone to him shortly after and maybe you cried a little while telling him everything, but Sanji's of the belief you two must've made up if Zoro came and asked him to bring you something.

“Guess you guys made up then.”

“No…” this time you shake your head, accepting the small plate of food from Sanji with a slight smile, “We haven't…but this was sweet of him.”

Sanji was surprised at that, but now, he's more annoyed than anything. While you talk and laugh with Nami and Robin, Zoro stays where you left him, every now and then, Sanji catches him watching you. He's probably drunk, that's the only reason Sanji can think of to explain the look Zoro has on his face. It's something soft and almost faraway, like he's thinking too much about something. It only stops when you look over and smile at him, like you had back in Cocoyashi Village, making Zoro look away quickly and down the last of his drink.

There's something there, Sanji knows there is.

He's just not sure what it is yet.

+!+

Robin fully believes she knows what it is between you and Zoro, after watching you two the next day. You'd gone with her to search for the city of gold, Zoro not thinking that was a smart idea but you convinced him you'd be fine and he relented. He didn't want to have another argument leading into a silent treatment event happen. Seeing you without Zoro around, you seemed extremely interested in whatever history Robin told you. You chose to tell Robin about your situation with your family, explaining up to your meeting Zoro and leaving off your current marriage to him. You'd tell her one day, maybe once you'd come to know her more and trust her fully. Robin, though, knows there's something missing from your story. She can see it in your eyes, but she can't see exactly what it is.

What she does see happens when Eneru is nearly about to electrocute the five of you standing before him, Nami hiding behind a bit of debris. Once again Zoro has placed you behind him, and Robin can hear him quietly telling you to go to Nami, which you deny.

“I'm not going anywhere, I'm going to help you.”

Zoro's trying so hard to get you to safety that he nearly misses Eneru targeting Robin, only really noticing when you'd pushed away from him and ran to her, only to be hit with Eneru's attack after you'd shoved her out of the way.

“[Y/N]!!”

Robin's by your side and making sure you're still breathing, relief washing over her when she sees you've just been knocked out. She's more surprised at your actions and how Zoro's sending the worst glare she's ever seen towards Eneru, placing himself between the three of you.

“Don't you dare touch her again.”

“She's likely dead now so that won't be a problem.”

Eneru’s comment nearly pushes Zoro over the edge before Robin calls him.

“Swordsman, calm down! She's still breathing!”

“Doesn't matter! He shouldn't…she shouldn't have…”

Watching Zoro fight for his words and grip his swords tighter, it makes Robin realize she just might be right.

She believes it more so when you all have defeated Eneru, and are recuperating afterwards during a celebration with the Skypieans and Shandorians. Zoro had stayed by your side most of the time, constantly checking to make sure you were alright despite his injuries being worse. You barely seemed to notice, but Robin definitely did. Eventually she sees the same thing Sanji had the night before. You'd gone off with Nami once again, but also Luffy, Chopper, and Aisa this time, the five of you playing some game the little Shandorian girl had come up with, and Robin sees Zoro watching you all, but mostly you. She sees his eyes soften just a bit, the slightest smile on his face while he watches you laugh, especially when Luffy tosses Aisa to you and you catch her, making her squeal in laughter as well. This was the most peaceful she'd seen Zoro yet, and it was all because of you it seems.

How sweet.

You two are the last to wake the next morning, before your abrupt departure, and Robin is sure her hunch is right seeing you snuggled up close to Zoro with one of his arms around you before Sanji kicks Zoro to wake him up. Of course this causes an argument as soon as Zoro is up and in Sanji's face, you barely awake and rubbing your eyes to figure out what's happening.

“What the hell, I was sleeping.”

“You and the swordsman were,” Robin starts to smile while your eyes widen and you feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks, “but we need to get going soon.”

“R-Right… did um… anyone–”

“Yeah you were really cozy with Zoro all night.” Nami grins and you have to hide your face in your hands, Zoro and Sanji still shouting at each other while Usopp, Luffy, and Chopper are gathering their things like it's a game.

Once you all do take off, as you're running to leave, you nearly trip over the ground to the point Zoro grabs you like the sack of gold everyone has and throws you over his shoulder.

“Wait, Zoro!! Put me down!!” You pound on his back a bit before he adjusts you over his shoulder better.

“Not if you're gonna trip like that!”

You don't even bother to fight him and just hang there the rest of the way to Merry, Zoro finally putting you down once you all get there, Robin hears the quietest apology from him while you shake your head and move to help get everything ready to go.

They're very interesting, those two…maybe he does actually like her.

+!+

Landing back in the sea did not go as planned for you. Your air filled octopus balloon friend let you down easily for the most part, until he suddenly ran out of air and the Merry was being quickly dropped into the water. You grabbed as tightly to the railing as you could while everyone else did the same, or grabbed each other in the case of Luffy, Usopp and Chopper, and Sanji not at all complaining as Nami latched onto him. The splash down flooded the deck with water, but once it drained enough, Merry settled and you were back as close to solid ground as possible.

“Everyone good?!” Luffy shouts a bit, Usopp and Chopper still holding onto him while most everyone states they're fine. He furrows his brow when he doesn't hear your voice or see you. “Where's [Y/N]?”

“Did she get swept out when the water drained?!” Nami feels panic seep into her bones while she looks for you in the water.

The second Nami's question reaches him, Zoro is in the water on the side of the ship you'd been on, making what felt like the millionth rescue from water he'd done in his life, most of them being for you due to your inability to swim. The first time it happened you'd been pushed in by one of your bounty targets before Zoro struck them down, quick enough that he was able to reach in and pull you out by your shirt collar like a cat by the scruff of its neck while you flailed about. You didn't eat a Devil Fruit, your parents simply never taught you to swim. Your brother attempted to, but only for so long before your parents heard and barred you from doing so. A lady didn't need to know how to swim, your mother tried to reason with you.

Zoro's able to reach you in time before you get too far down in the sea, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you upwards, surfacing not even a minute after he'd jumped in, making you gasp for air and cling tightly to him, almost suffocating your constant savior while you spit up water from your lungs.

“Zoro's got [Y/N]!! Let the ladder down!”

You hated this, hated needing to be saved anytime you ended up in the water. It's become so much that you aren't sure if you really are crying while you grip onto Zoro, or if it's just water dripping down your face, despite how hard you're biting your lip and tightening your hold on him. It's not like you had a good excuse, not like those who had eaten Devil Fruits.

Zoro puts an arm around your shoulders and stops for just a second once he gets the both of you to the ladder before starting to climb up.

“Hey,” you almost miss him speaking to you, even once he starts trying to soothe you by rubbing your back, “I've got you. You're all right.”

He's quiet while he speaks to you, whispering reassurances that all is well, you're okay, he's not going to let you go until you're on the deck again. You're alive, he's saved you again, kept you from drowning like he has Chopper and Luffy in the past. Like he always has.

Sometimes it feels like all you do is take and take and take from Zoro, from all of them. You wonder sometimes if your parents were right, when they said you were nothing more than a greedy child still, always taking but never giving back. Despite the fact you do your fair share on the ship, in battles, it feels like you shouldn't be here.

Once you're back on the deck, you still don't let go of Zoro, even when he tells you to at least loosen your grip before you choke him to death. You do, at the very least, release your grip on his shoulders and instead hide your face in his shirt, trying to keep your worried crewmates from realizing you are crying after all. Zoro simply holds your head in place, even with Luffy and Usopp trying to check you over while Chopper runs to get his bag and help you. Sanji is quickly throwing his suit jacket around you and trying to get Luffy and Usopp away so they don't cause you more distress, while Robin suggests bringing you to your bed, and Nami's run off to your room to get dry, warm clothes for you. Despite the slight distrust he still feels for Robin, Zoro nods at her suggestion, bringing Sanji's jacket around you a bit more before lifting you up in his arms, knowing you weren't letting him go anytime soon. You don't let go, not even for a second, until you're in your room and Zoro has laid you on your bed, telling you to wait for Chopper to get there while he tries to leave and change into dry clothes himself. He's stopped only by you grabbing his wrist, wanting him to stay, before Zoro promises he'll come right back. You only let go after that, giving a slight nod when he turns to leave you to change clothes yourself.

“Zoro?”

He's almost out of the room before you stop him, making him look over his shoulder to you.

“Thank you…again.”

He shakes his head, telling you not to mention it.

“I'll always save you if you need it, wife.”

+!+

You're struck with a nasty fever and congested cough the next day, blaming it on the unexpected swim you'd taken and the slightly colder area you were in. Chopper's given you all the medicine you can take for now, to try and bring your fever down, the rest was up to your own body to fight it off. Your crewmates were kind enough to take turns watching you, as you all had done when Nami was ill before you brought Chopper on board. She and Zoro are the ones to spend the most time watching you; Luffy tries to cheer you up with jokes, Usopp tells you more of his tall tales, Robin has taken to reading to you from a book she'd let you borrow, Sanji is mostly quiet so you can sleep, and Chopper is in and out checking on you and seeing if your fever has reduced any. Nami is almost as quiet as Sanji, working on a map while you rest.

Then Zoro.

He continues to reassure you that everything is OK, not constantly while he's there but he can tell, when you trail off in your sentences and look away from him, that you feel bad about something. He's not sure what, but he tells you everything is alright, you're alive and you made it out of a fight against a false god and a near drowning.

“‘M sorry you have to watch me…instead of doing your training.”

If he'd been any closer to sleep, Zoro would've missed what you said entirely. Luckily for you, he's awake enough to raise an eyebrow and shake his head.

“Don't worry about it. It's what crewmates do.”

It's what a husband does too…

“I feel like all I do is take from you…”

You don't look at him, finding your ceiling more interesting as you look over the wood pattern to avoid his eyes. You know he'll try to reassure you again, Zoro was good at that, despite his indifference to your pretend marriage. He'd never made you feel like you were a burden or less than, even if you really did mostly take and rarely give in return.

Zoro's not even sure why he always tries to make you realize things are okay, that you haven't done anything wrong. He knows about your parents acting like you should be seen and not heard, such a crappy thing to do to your own child in his opinion. Your parents were well off, they’d give to you and your brother constantly, then make you feel like you were selfish for not returning the “favor” by marrying who they chose for you. They really seemed to embody the “not every parent deserves a child” belief.

Thank God you had someone who cared for you though.

Before even saying a word in response, Zoro quietly takes hold of your free hand, letting you lace your fingers with his and making you look him in the eye again.

“Take all you want, I'll give you what I can. You can return it another time, all right?”

You want to cry, as Zoro strokes your hand with his thumb, and you nod a bit, swallowing down the tears before they can start. The things he does to you, even after telling you he isn’t here for romance. The way he acts, the way he treats you, it really makes you want to believe he’s lying to himself, lying to you to keep up his image. It gives you the slightest bit of hope that things could change one day.

“O-okay…”

We're not a couple…I don't know why you put up with me…

Once your fever is past, you're back to your normal routine of helping out wherever possible on the ship, spending your free time in the kitchen with Sanji, helping Nami with a map, or staying near Zoro while he goes back to training. He doesn't mind if you quietly sit near him, whatever book you've borrowed from Robin in your lap. It feels almost domestic to him, and Zoro has to brush that thought away quickly, lest he start fantasizing about keeping you as his wife. He stops any random thoughts of you two sharing a bed permanently, of taking you out somewhere on the next island for a date, or convincing you to stay up with him during his night watch, just to talk about your relationship and future. No, those thoughts can't be entertained, not now at least, he can't be distracted by such frivolous feelings like wanting to hold your hand all of sudden, or expecting a good morning hug or whatever. Romance isn't in his plans, it's not on his radar. You being his wife isn't supposed to be permanent.

Still though, a thought lingers despite his pushing the others out, when Zoro catches you dozing off in the corner, still fatigued from your body fighting off that fever.

Would it really be so bad to stay married to her?

He's not sure, even as he sets his weight back in place, wiping away any sweat he can and putting on a shirt before settling himself next to you, gently leaning you against him as you sleep. You stir a bit but he quickly quiets you.

“Just me. Go back to sleep.”

“Mm…’kay…”

Despite the scent of steel and sweat, you snuggle closer to Zoro, him wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you still. He lays his head on top of yours, closing his eyes and letting those thoughts come back, not stopping a single one this time.

Thoughts of a possible future where you two stay married and act like it, where you treat each other as husband and wife, where you've both reached your goals, where you're settled down somewhere safe enough to have a child or two perhaps.

Thoughts Zoro never once imagined entertaining, but now they take over his dreams to the point he's started changing his mind.

Maybe not so bad.

#zoro x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #last forever #roronoa zoro x reader

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greenerteacups · 1 month

Note

Hi GT. I hope this message finds you well. I am sending all the good vibes and we'll wishes your way! ♥️♥️♥️ I hope you've had a wonderful summer.

I'm such a big fan of your work. Lioneheart is amazing and has stuck with me for such a long time.

I was wondering if you had any other stories you'd like to explore one day (even if you never get the chance to write them.) Whether it be fanfiction or original work, I was just curious because sometimes I feel as if I have hundreds of stories inside that I could tell, and I am not sure how to pick just one and see it to completion.

First of all, thank you! This is a fun one. I have a few enduring ideas for longfics I may or may not ever write (i.e., ideas that would have been projects already if I didn't have an ongoing longfic). I don't get stuck in them mostly because I try to remind myself that the idealized story you imagine when a concept occurs to you will never actually exist as it does when it's unshackled by the constraints of execution. What you'll get if you actually sit down and hack it out is (1) a real and imperfect piece of writing, and (2) the satisfaction of having written it, which is by far the more reliable source of motivation, if we're being honest. That being said, here are some ideas I've always wanted to explore, if and when I finish Lionheart:

I've always wanted to write a longform canon-divergent Tomione fic about Tom Riddle's 7th year at Hogwarts. Big honking political melodrama ft. the original Knights of Walpurgis, a Triwizard Tournament, and realistically functioning time travel (hence why this one's always been kicked down my list of projects, because writing a time-travel plot is like running through a minefield made of trampolines). I've already got character concepts sketched out for the Hogwarts cast — sooooo many fun ideas for the teenage Walburga. But I'd still need about a week of solid fic preproduction on the plot alone before I was ready to boot up and start writing, and it'd take at least 250k words — closer to 300k, if I'm being honest about myself. So this probably won't see the light of day anytime remotely soon, if ever.

A canon-compliant Dramione war fic, diverging from the Malfoy Manor chapters in Book 7, picking up from a speculative thread I read once about what would happen if the war didn't end after Voldemort died at the Battle of Hogwarts. I've always thought it would be fascinating to see who Hermione and Draco would become if they were actual soldiers in the war (and my disappointment with how Book 7 handled the "war" of it all has been established). That being said, Book 7 of Lionheart will probably give me a lot of similar ideas to chew on, so I don't know what my appetite for this one will be once I'm finished with it.

Durmstrang AU. This one's barely a fic concept so much as it is a mental moodboard — I just want to worldbuild the hell out of Durmstrang. And the international wizarding world, generally. It's a delicious sandbox.

A longform canon-compliant fic or series of fics about the previous generation of Blacks (Sirius/Bellatrix/Narcissa, namely). If you look at the books, there's a huge amount we don't know about the fall of the Blacks. I always found it bizarre that the sisters and Sirius seem to be the only ones left by 1995. No one else has a claim? No one else from this all-powerful wizarding family wants to step in and claim this big honking townhouse in the middle of London? Or its attendant fortune? Dude, what happened? Also, we don't see nearly enough of the Black family melodrama in canon. They lose 4/5 children of a generation in the span of almost single decade. And then (presumably) all of their parents die in the span of another. Goddamn. Just imagine the character work you could do there.

A No Chosen One/Voldemort Wins (The First Time) AU where Hermione never gets her letter, and meets Draco much later in life as a self-taught witch. The dynamics I have in my head for this are really enjoyable, and it would be a chance to finally write Hermione POV, plus the Draco I've cooked up for this universe is [chefs kiss]. I also just love the idea of Hermione as a feral witch-child running around muggle London. I love it a lot.

#greenteacup asks #dramione

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geeks-universe · 5 months

Text

The Fallen pt. 5

Cooper Howard x F!Angel!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Warnings: smut, idk normal apocalypse type stuff

A/N: I’m not super happy with this chapter so I’m probably gonna edit it again later

Tag List: @lacontroller1991 @giggle-shade @tesha-i-guess @looneylooomis @pookiesnatcher @jayden-okayden @dovefeatheredraven @angelcritterz

Sometime during the night, when there were no doubts or fear, Cooper had pulled you closer into him, his chest firmly against your back, legs tangled in a mess of warmth.

Inevitably, when the memories of your long life crept in and dragged you from your peaceful slumber, you awoke to the smell of gunpowder and blood. Cooper’s arm was tight around your middle, holding you close, like he was afraid you’d slip away during the night.

You allowed yourself a brief moment, made longer by your own indulgence, where you let yourself feel.

Long gone were your doe eyes and breathless smiles. The world you inhabited required a steel stomach and an unbendable spine. For the past two centuries you’d denied yourself that spark, the bit of yourself that always felt so much- too much.

Your heart was a traitorous thing, had always been far too bright. Once, you’d prided yourself on that, on the love for others that was just so effortless.

You doubted yourself now, thought that maybe you didn’t even know what love was. Maybe you were just a sanctimonious asshole who didn’t care about others, just wanted to ride the high of moral superiority.

It was hard to think that, to view yourself as incapable of love, when the warm, even breaths of Cooper Howard on the back of your neck pumped fire through your veins.

Could it be possible, for you to feel affection- love- for him?

There was some amount of fondness, to be sure- something in the way your heart fluttered, your eyes gravitated to him.

But love?

You’d never been in love. You had loved before, many people in your life, but not romantically.

Not the kind that would put you on your knees.

“You look lost, sister.”

Amenadiel’s voice was deep, concerned.

You heaved a sigh, rolling out of Cooper’s arms. The corners of your lips turned down at the loss of him, body protesting your isolation.

“Twice in the same year, that has to be a record.”

The amusement in your voice wasn’t matched by your brother, his dark eyes trained on the man that’d been cuddled up to you for half the night.

“You should be careful,” he cautioned you, and though he kept his stature straight, you could see the worry in the tenseness of his arms, the tightening of his jaw.

You were his baby sister. Generally angels were unconcerned with the affairs of man- more spectator than intervenor. They remained in their realm, governing over humans only after they’d lived their mortal lives.

You, Lucifer, and Amenadiel were exceptions.

Three sides of the same coin, three siblings, three realms- heaven, hell, and earth.

“Since when have you ever cared about my choices?”

It was unfair, a poisonous comment from the lips of a little girl who was still bitter about the way life turned out.

Amenadiel had visited you, more so than any sibling. Granted, you and Lucifer had been given more than just proverbial prisons. After his return to hell, some years before the world turned to shit, he had been caught in a trap once again, unable to leave the confines of hell.

And you…

Well, your wings were tattered, brutal scars to remind you of what you were, but to never let you leave.

Clipped wings for a trapped bird.

“I’ve always cared.”

There was a softness there, in the way his eyes dropped. He was an undeniably intimidating man, but he’d always brought himself to your level when he spoke to you, almost scared of you seeing him as anything other than an overbearing, yet loving, big brother.

“Why are you here?”

The question wasn’t as venomous as the last, genuine curiosity momentarily winning out over an never ending feud.

“What happened to you?”

His question was so sudden, like he’d been holding onto it for a lifetime, waiting for the right time to get his answer.

“You were God’s Golden Warrior, his most fierce and compassionate child.”

An angry humor burned its way up your throat, culminating in something halfway between a laugh and a growl. Amenadiel, as patient as ever, let the rage light up your features.

“What happened?” You stood then, your full height not even nearing your brother’s, but there was no denying the spark of intimidation in your stance.

You’d been God’s Golden Warrior first, then Hell’s Champion.

Titles given not by privilege, but by prowess.

There were few who were capable of moving with such speed and precision as you. Your body and mind were weapons, capable of a destruction you never sought out.

Instead, you chose to be a healer, to let the divinity that flooded your veins be used for good.

You couldn’t heal now, not since the day the bombs fell- since you fell- and that bit of knowledge hurt worse than the disappointment on Amenadiel’s face, but just barely.

“Look at this place,” your voice rose with your anger, a sneer on your lips. “At them.”

Your brother did.

Guilt flashed in his eyes, followed by quiet acceptance.

“I watched this happen. We all watched this happen.”

It was so fucking hard to get Amenadiel to understand the thoughts that plagued your every move. Anger was easy, it shadowed the guilt and overwhelming sadness, like a rabid animal protecting its den.

Why couldn’t he see it? Why couldn’t any of them see it?

“We do not dictate their lives,” he reminded you sternly, his arms crossing over his chest.

Your heart squeezed at the image of him, at the same expression he’d given to you so many times in your youth, bewildered with your silly antics.

“No, we just let billions of people suffer for the mistakes of a few,” you muttered bitterly.

The air, nearly frozen in time with the power of Amenadiel, grew thick with an exhausted argument. For millennia it’d been like this, each visit ending in similar disappointment. Maybe the damage was irreparable, maybe you would never reconnect with him the way you once did.

“Don’t forget who you are.”

And with that, he was gone.

You were left to your own musings once more, time ticking by like normal once again.

His words shouldn’t have bothered you, shouldn’t have crawled deep into your skin and taken root in your chest, but they did.

Don’t forget who you are.

Your legs twitched, a reminder of the position you’d been in less than a day ago.

Cooper had dropped you to your knees and you’d just let him.

You’d let him take whatever pleasure he wanted from you, had let him pump his anger into you until he’d thrown his head back with his release.

Your thoughts simmered, then blistered, dissatisfaction rearing its head.

You were not his toy, his little plaything to use as he pleased.

That little display had been for his benefit, but it wasn’t who you were. If he wanted you, he’d have to earn you.

You were gone before either of your companions awoke, Maze following closely behind as you prepared some rations for Lucy and Cooper.

Food wasn’t something you’d had in a long time.

Truthfully, you didn’t need it. Without eating, you’d survive, just as unchanged as the past several thousand years- water too. However, it hurt.

You still felt hunger, thirst, just as a human did. It didn’t debilitate you, or even make you unwell, you just felt a constant pain, an ache you couldn’t consciously fill. Humans needed food and water to survive, to even stand a fighting chance.

So, you lived in that pain.

You sighed, holding out your palm with a little bit of spare canned meat for Maze. The dog took it graciously, scarfing down the humble portion.

Lucy and Maze were easier to understand and interact with. Honestly, they were a bit refreshing. Well, Lucy was, Maze was very much a good dog, but that was usually the case.

Good humans?

Well, those were in pretty short supply these days.

It was easy to understand though, and you gave humans a lot of grace. After all, this world was a hard place that took and took, relentless in its efforts to either strike you down or make you another monster in the cog of the apocalypse.

“That smells better than I thought anything on the surface could,” Lucy mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

She sat up slowly, bringing her knees to her chest as you passed her the sad excuse for a meal.

“Eat up, it’ll be a long day,” you told her, scratching Maze’s chin as you lounged a little more comfortably.

The instinct to spread your wings stretched at your spine, tamped down only by the presence of your new friend.

She hummed contentedly, taking a few bites slowly, like she was both savoring the flavor and debating on asking a question.

It seemed her curiosity won out as she swallowed another bite.

“Where will you go after I find my dad?”

You let the inquiry hang in the air as you thought on it, idly tapping your fingers on the top of your knee. You hadn’t given it a lot of thought, too focused on trying to give someone a happiness you could never have.

Maybe it’d heal a piece of yourself in the process.

“I don’t really know,” you admitted slowly, cautiously.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Cooper stir. He was awake, even if he pretended not to be.

You wouldn’t call him out though. If he wanted to listen in, so be it.

“You could-“ she paused, shaking off a bit of dust before she continued. “If you wanted to, you could come with me to my vault.”

The control Cooper always had a desperate hold on reared out of his hands, his body shooting up as if he’d woken up in a startle. You didn’t answer Lucy, didn’t bother to tell her if only because you knew it’d drive Cooper mad.

And he looked particularly put out as he grabbed his own portion of the food.

Where Lucy was well mannered and talkative, Coop took exactly what he needed and didn’t bother with conversation.

You sighed, getting to your feet and slinging your pack back on.

“Now that everybody’s had their breakfast, let’s get moving.”

Lucy was quick to join you, worry and fear chewing at her with each day that passed by. There wasn’t much left to the journey, about a day and a half if you had to guess, but there was a fairly important stop you wanted to make first.

“We’re going to make a stop tonight,” you commented, not bothering to check if Coop was following as you started making your way away from your temporary camp.

“And then we’ll be there tomorrow?” Lucy confirmed.

Your nod was enough of a confirmation for her, and instead of leaving her to her own devices, to stew in the depths of her concern, you engaged in conversation with her.

It was unimportant, for the most part, just questions about her family and her interests.

She’d told you about her brother, Norm, who she clearly had a deep affection for. Then she talked about her dad, and how close they’d been.

It was so… normal. Mundane. Domestic.

Before the war, you weren’t as involved with humans. You’d always kept them at a bit of a distance, scared to engage.

(And considering the first time you’d really tangled yourself in human affairs they claimed you to be the daughter of Zeus, married you to a Spartan, then started an entire pointless war over the male ego- you weren’t quick to re-enter society.)

But, eventually, with the help of Lucifer, you’d made friends. Integrated yourself, if you will.

Life had been a dream then, loneliness chased away by your friends and family. Lucifer had Chloe and Rory, Amenadiel had Linda and Charlie. Maze tormented you daily with very painful sparring sessions. (With the utmost love in her heart, mind you.)

Then Lucifer had been forced to return to hell, chained to his responsibility in the afterlife. Not long after, the world went to shit and the friends you’d had were all whisked away in some form or fashion, to hell or to heaven, depending on if they were Team Lucifer or Amenadiel.

You’d recognized the faraway look in Cooper’s expression too, like her explanation of her life was forcing him to face his own past.

Briefly, you wondered what that looked like.

He hadn’t really told you anything about his family. Hell, before the past couple of weeks you hadn’t told him anything about yours either.

Then, before Lucy could ask too many questions about the state of your own family, you inquired about Maximus.

There was a sadness when she spoke of him, like the uncertainty of the situation was a death sentence.

And maybe it was.

The Wasteland had a habit of making people disappear. It was so easy to just drift away, become little more than a distant memory and an occasional anecdote while the world moved on.

The conversation was enough to keep you occupied, to distract you from the impending walk down nostalgia lane.

For the most part, it was just you and Lucy talking, Cooper still deep in thought over the events of the past day. It was better that way, though, easier to focus on meaningless conversation than the streets around you.

The closer you got, the more you recognized.

The streets were so different now, not teeming with life as they’d once been.

Lux.

Los Angeles had become little more than a husk of itself, shells of buildings littering the streets, the desert sweeping in from all sides. Many factions had laid claim to the ruins, had rebuilt the city with scraps.

Through it all though, Lux had stood.

It wasn’t in perfect condition, but it did maintain itself far better than nearly every other building.

Not that it was particularly surprising, there were many, many divine artifacts locked away, for the protection of others.

“What is this place?” Lucy broke the silence, a hand blocking out the harsh sun as she followed the building to the top.

“It used to be a nightclub,” you shrugged, your boots crunching on glass shards.

Most of the windows had been smashed out, and when you entered the front, you were unsurprised to find that it’d been trashed, then picked clean. Beyond the general structure of the bottom floor, there was little recognizable content left. Even the poles had been taken down, lost to some raid or another.

You could almost picture it, your mind tugging you back to a time you’d walked through the throngs of people, pressing your way to the elevator to meet your brother.

This time, there wasn’t a crowd, just your two companions following in a hushed silence.

“It works?” Lucy gestured to the open doors of the elevator that you’d stepped into, your hand tracing the buttons reverently.

“Yeah, it’ll work,” you promised, a thousand little moments echoing in the press of a button.

You typed in the code, the one Lucifer had used to protect his property prior to leaving, and the elevator whirred back at you.

If you wanted to get technical, it had been Chloe’s idea. She wasn’t interested in coming back to Lux after Lucy left, haunted by the memories. She knew she’d meet him again, one day- but until then, she tried to maintain some semblance of normal while honoring Lucifer.

Thus, you’d all decided that you’d take Lux, and in doing so, you could maintain the artifacts that your brother had collected. You’d agreed only after drowning every surface in bleach.

He might’ve settled down with Chloe eventually, but he’d more than likely defiled every inch of the penthouse before that.

The doors moved with a groan, shutting you and your small party in as it ascended to the place you’d once considered home. Your heart twinged, each whine of the machinery bringing you closer to familiarity.

“How’d you know all this, sweetheart?”

Cooper finally broke his silence, the same one he’d had for the majority of the day, to ask. You weren’t quite sure if you were thankful for it or not, comforted by his voice but also frustrated with his actions.

“This,” you tapped impatiently against the rusting bar, nodding your head as the elevator screeched to a halt, doors springing open slowly. “Was my brother’s place.”

The look Cooper gave you could best be described as suspicious. You looked like you were in your mid-twenties, and this club was very obviously from before the war over 200 years ago.

You ignored it, however, instead calming the pounding of your heart as you stepped into the penthouse your brother had made his home for many years.

The lights above clicked on, a generator long dormant still capable of producing electricity. You weren’t surprised, Lucifer had really spared no expense on this place, because he hated inconvenience.

It was largely untouched, a few smashed windows and a heavy layer of dust the only real mark of the passage of time. It was still, quiet, lifeless. Your fingers idly tapped on the keys of the piano, untuned notes reverberating in the space around you as a brief flicker of life passed through the space.

You’d loved here, had once reunited with your family and friends, had held them all close as the weight of years and years in isolation forced you to your knees. The note died, the memory too, and you stepped away, towards the well stocked bar that was mostly intact.

“Now that’s a bar,” Coop whistled lowly, picking up the nearest bottle and investigating.

“We can stay here for the night,” you told them, dropping your pack on the couch, dust swirling at the upheaval. “There’s only two rooms, but the couch is comfy.”

Lucy was walking the perimeter with curiosity, hands tracing over the luxurious items with interest. She’d never seen objects like this, surrounded by metal and conformity. Everything in the penthouse was unique and expensive, millennia of history blended into fashionable decor.

Maze followed suit, sniffing and investigating every corner and crevice of the abandoned penthouse.

The distinct sound of a fridge opening made you turn towards the bar and cringe.

“I’d just leave that closed,” you commented, a shiver of disgust involuntarily crawling down your spine.

“What in the hell is this?” Coop pulled out a very brightly colored goop, one that you’d been too horrified to even touch after Lucifer had left, and then the world had ended.

“It’s uh,” you cleared your throat. “Lube.”

Amusement twitched on the ghoul’s features as he cracked the old jar open.

“Please don’t,” you muttered, not bothering to watch the scene unfold.

He’d specially ordered it from some Korean sex store, claiming that it tasted like bubblegum and caused all “bits and bobs to tingle”.

You slipped back into your brother’s room, pushing aside the old painting to get into the vault. The thrum of divinity always grew in intensity near artifacts, but this specific one lit a fire in your chest.

Lucifer had felt a connection to the Blade of Death, and Amenadiel had always been affixed to the Key, but you…

You clicked the lock open- the combination was Chloe’s birthday- and reached out, power strumming in the air.

Your fingers closed around the Medallion of Life, the world righting itself a little more around you. The three divine artifacts that made up the Flaming Sword, the three children of God that made up the three realms- there was an unbreakable tether between you and the medallion, which you’d strung around your neck.

“What’s that?”

It was Lucy who asked, who had followed you into your brother's room.

“Family heirloom,” you said, tucking the medallion beneath your jumpsuit.

Her eyes slid to the bed, still perfectly made, gazing with longing. Exhaustion had hit your party hard, the long days of traveling with the lack of adequate rations and an overbearing sun had left your companions little more than a tangle of limbs at night.

“Have the bed,” you told her, turning to walk out of the room.

“Hey,” she interrupted the quiet gently, thoughtfully. “How is it possible? That your brother owned this place?”

You breathed out a sigh, pausing momentarily.

“I’m a lot older than I look.”

Cooper was still rifling around the bar when you returned, his hat perched precariously on a shelf. Maze had jumped onto the couch, satisfied with her assessment of the new space and now content to just doze off.

Your gazes met, and instead of offering him the second room- your room- you nodded your head in a gentle goodnight, and walked the familiar path to rest. Your fingertips traced the walls, nostalgia threatening to bubble up, to form tears in your eyes.

You wouldn’t let it, wouldn’t let memories drown you in sorrow.

Don’t forget who you are.

But you wanted to.

You wanted to be anything but that person, but the person who hurt when others did, who couldn’t stand to watch anyone in pain.

The door to your room creaked open, the bright colors faded to vignette, like an old film. It still looked relatively the same- closet full of color, books lining the wall, retired weapons collecting dust like trophies.

Your bed looked so warm and inviting, and as much as you wanted to fall into the sheets and sleep for a decade, you decided it was best to maintain some amount of hygiene.

You chucked your boots off, throwing them somewhere in the wide, open space. Your socks and jumpsuit were quick to follow, leaving you in just your bra and underwear.

The dresser drawers groaned with disuse, but opened with relative ease. You snagged an old t-shirt you’d stolen from some one night stand you didn’t bother remembering- the name of some old band plastered on the front in an eerie font- and a new pair of panties. Considering it’d been 200 years, you were surprised that they were in such good condition.

They smelled a little dusty and stale, but honestly, that was better than anything the Wasteland produced.

Just as you’d been about to slither into bed and sleep like the dead, the jingle of spurs sounded down the hallway, headed straight for you. Coop was slow, controlled, like he was having a conversation with himself on the walk over.

You listened intently, sitting on the edge of your bed as he decided whether he wanted to speak to you or not.

Slowly, with more caution than you’d ever seen from him, your door opened. The expression he wore was hesitant, and your heart squeezed at seeing some of the confidence in his swagger chipped away.

It struck you then, that you’d seen him play a similar role sometime back in his golden days. He’d been an apologetic cowboy, begging his lady love for forgiveness. She’d given it to him then, had confessed her undying love and then they’d rode off into the sunset, presumably to live happily ever after.

Not for the first time, you wondered if he saw the scene play in his head, if he remembered a time when all the bad disappeared with a shout of “cut”.

“What do you need?”

He shifted from foot to foot, an internal debate, before he took a step forward.

“The dog’s taking up the couch.”

A flimsy excuse. A real one, if it were you, but you knew he didn’t truly care about the comfort of Maze.

“And?”

You quirked a brow, not giving any grace. If he wanted something, he’d have to ask- nicely.

He sucked on his teeth, fingers running the brim of his hat.

“Really gonna make a man beg, sweetheart?“

“I usually do,” you met him with a pointed stare, leaning back on your elbows.

His gaze ran the length of your legs, drinking in the sight of your bare, smooth skin. Like a man possessed, he fell before you, dropped straight to his knees.

“I ain’t ever begged before,” he murmured, the tips of his fingers ghosting along your ankles. “Ain’t gonna start now.”

A smile tugged at your lips- slow and sweet, a woman who knew her worth.

“Not now,” you agreed with a hum, watching from beneath your lashes as he pressed the skin of your ankle to his lips, moving up a few inches before repeating the action. “But you will.”

A shiver ran the length of your spine when his touch reached the inside of your thigh, a smirk pulling on his mouth. He tugged at your underwear, sliding it down your legs at a torturous pace.

“Is that so?”

His breath was warm against your skin, the vibrations from his voice pressed against your legs. It was a sight to behold, him on his knees before you, worshipping each inch of yourself bared to him.

“Pretty as a peach,” he breathed, eyes drinking in the sight of your exposed cunt.

You hummed teasingly, the sound turning to a breathy moan of his name as he bit the soft flesh of your thigh.

“I’m not in the mood for games, Coop,” you told him, leveling him with an even stare.

He kept eye contact as he licked a long, hard stripe up your cunt. Your breath stuttered, muscles tensing at the sensation.

“Neither am I.”

You barely had time to register the words, to understand the insulation, before he pressed his face against you, his tongue flicking desperately against your clit.

You cursed, hands knocking the hat off his head as you grabbed onto the back of his neck, holding him there. Your back arched when he sucked, his teeth just barely scraping against your sensitive nub.

He was ravenous, his tongue finding a harsh rhythm against your clit, sucking up every drop of wetness you gave him like he’d been without water for a week. The pressure in your stomach unraveled, muscles straining under the building tension.

Your body sung, pleasure climbing higher and higher.

Coop pulled away, and you nearly sobbed at the loss of his mouth, before his fingers- somehow devoid of his gloves in the chaos- were pressing into you.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” his accent was thick, honeyed.

You had maybe a second before-

A wanton moan tore itself from your parted lips, his name a prayer on your lips as his other hand held you open, his tongue relentless against your slick heat.

His finger was pumping in and out of you, quickly joined by another as he stretched you open for him.

You were saying his name over and over now, pressure building with each swipe of his tongue or curl of his finger. You were pleading with him, at the edge of it all wanting to just plunge into your pleasure.

Your legs flexed, tried to close, but Cooper held them open as your chest fluttered. Each touch was fire, so hot your body burned in an inferno of your desire.

Cooper. Cooper. Fuck.

Unintelligible words fell from your lips, growing in volume as you fell into the feel of him, pleasure bursting through your veins. You might’ve screamed his name then, might’ve drew blood with your fingernails as he tongue fucked you through your orgasm.

It took you a moment to catch your breath, and another to realize he was crawling up your body, pride plastered in the smirk he wore.

You’d give it to him, that was one hell of an orgasm.

But, you didn’t want him to have the satisfaction. Not yet.

“Coop,” you warned, holding your hand against his chest.

The heart that beat beneath your palm was pounding with excitement.

“Darlin’,” he cooed the syllables, sweet as sugar.

If you were made of lesser stuff, you might’ve leaned into his touch, might’ve bunched his shirt in your fist and pressed your lips to his- but you weren’t, and you didn’t. Instead, you met his gaze, keeping him suspended above you.

You rocked to the side then, your leg wrapped around his middle while you flipped the both of you over, pinning him beneath you. It surprised him, the strength you displayed, so unlike when he’d had you on your knees.

You didn’t have to say anything then, didn’t even have to tell him what you were thinking. He could see it, could recognize the look in your eyes, and nodded.

He laid back, observing you above him. You wished you could tell what he was thinking, what caused the furrow of his now-gone brows.

A note floated between you, more joining with a skilled precision to create a beautiful melody.

A familiar melody.

Coop was already pushing you off him, feet pounding against the ground as you struggled to throw a pair of old sweatpants on. You were tripping over yourself, all uncoordinated limbs and excitable actions and you ran out the door and into the hallway, a few feet behind Coop.

He was already slinging insults, his gun cocked with a threat by the time you rounded the corner. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, couldn’t even see the worried expression on Lucy’s brow as you stared at the piano, the very same that had laid abandoned, silent, for 200 years.

There, in the center of the room, with a wide, devilish smile and a pristine suit, fingers sprawled across the keys, sat Lucifer.

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard insert #fallout x reader #fallout reader insert #the ghoul imagine

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vinelark · 1 month

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Do you have any more outtakes you'd be willing to share? I love seeing what did and didn't make the cut on fics

i do!! i remember doing a little roundup of some outtakes for chapters 1 - 3 (found it! here) and i have some similar snippets from chapters 4 & 5 ☺️

chapter 4

a bit of cut dialogue from the zoo rescue:

“Oh, I’m aware,” Nightwing says. “Atlanta, remember?”

“What happened in Atlanta?” Tim demands, ducking away from another bird.

Nightwing waves a hand. “Classified superhero business.”

“Superboy, what happened in Atlanta?”

In Atlanta, Kon yelled at Superman about Tim’s misinterpreted fear toxin hallucinations right in front of Batman and Nightwing, which still makes Kon cringe a bit to think about. “Uhh,” Kon says. “Yeah, classified.”

two cut texting exchanges after the date:

Text message: Clark & Kon

[Saturday, 10:21pm ET]

Clark

Hey Kon—is everything all right?

I can have someone cover the rest of my watch if need be.

Kon

no, all good

apparently mr. wayne’s lawyers are On It

whatever that means in rich people speak

sorry if you like. get asked about this by the press lol

like we weren’t trying for a photo op but i should’ve heard the drone earlier

Clark

This isn’t your fault.

And I’m sure Bruce’s lawyers will have it sorted out by morning

Kon

yeah that’s basically what tim said

Text message: Jon & Conner

[Saturday, 10:23pm ET]

Jon

Ok the live is gone now

Also pa’s asking where u are what do i tell him

I think i have to tell him the truth he sounds worried because earlier i said u went to rescue someone n you haven’t come back

I can’t lie about this i feel bad :(

oh i just heard your window open nvm !!

Conner

all good kiddo, thanks for looking out

in tim & bruce’s conversation, there was a longer section about tim leaning into the “socialite” civilian role, which included the following exchange:

“Like…Paris Fashion Week?” Tim says. That’s always a big one for Bruce Wayne to be caught ducking into dressing rooms with various models.

Bruce gives him a flat look. “You are welcome to attend Paris Fashion Week. Chaperoned.”

tim’s instagram post originally had comments:

briancollinsss i KNEW i saw superboy at car’s party!!!

jerseygirlsteph 👅👅👅

itsanickname_grayson Hope you stayed safe up there!

chapter 5

this exchange in the flashback at the top of chapter 5 was cut/altered for flow, but i still like it:

“Okay,” Tim had said. “And, um, if you can’t come get me, is there a plan B?”

“I will come for you,” Bruce repeated, at the same time Dick called: “Superman.”

extra banter (co-brainstormed by @tigerjpg) that got cut because it didn’t quite keep with the tone, but i still adore it:

“I’m not perfect, anyway,” Kon says. “I snore. Maybe next time make a specimen who doesn’t snore.”

“Sometimes his sneezes register on the Richter Scale,” Tim says.

“And I have a crooked tooth, though honestly that might be from the time I slammed face-first into a volcano.”

“He also thinks wearing sunglasses at night is cool.”

and a bit later, also cut for tone/flow:

“[…] Hey, how unhinged about eugenics do you have to be for Cadmus to send you packing as an intern?”

Cadmus. Did Kon—did he tell Tim the name Cadmus, earlier? He can’t remember—he doesn’t think he did—but it doesn’t matter, because his thoughts scatter as the guy whirls on Tim. The rod comes up, jams under Tim’s jaw, pressing into the side of his neck. Not on yet, but it could be. Kon freezes; Tim doesn’t react except to go rigid, still tracking the guy with his eyes.

“Tell me honestly,” Cadmus guy says, lip curling as he looks sideways to address Kon. “Do you even like this one, or was kissing him the only way you could get him to shut up?”

Kon’s heart pounds in his throat. “You’re so…obsessed with my dating life, dude,” he says. Every moment the guy is looking at him feels like one less moment the rod might switch on. “Sorry, but you’re a bit old for me.”

and i have some extra core four shenanigans that probably won’t fit into chapter 6 at this point, but i’ll wait til i’m done to share that 💪

#i cut the last one because i didn’t want kon to get snagged on wondering about what tim knows here when the reveal was so close #plus i don’t think cadmus guy actually thought/cared about superboy’s feelings for tim beyond their utility to him #but i do think it would have been fun (bad) for tim to hear that 🥰#asks #my fic #i think i’ll do an outtakes/extras roundup after the fic is complete!

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eekitseve · 2 months

Text

Chapter one of my charpim fanfic below the cut :) just in time for Christmas in July! will upload to ao3 in a few days once I get my account

Charlie was definitely more of a New Year’s guy.

The “new year, new me” leaves a length of time between Christmas and the beginning of the following year to act out, to be someone else, and to do stupid shit. It’s right between needing to be good for Santa and having the slate cleaned for the new year.

New Year’s Eve was a blast for Charlie (almost) every time. Charlie, for one thing, knew how to have a good time. He knew enough people who hosted annual parties. He knew enough people who knew how to get into the big ones, the exclusive ones, the absolutely nuts ones. He never had to worry about New Year’s Eve plans— it was a reliable holiday where he could lose his shit and be forgiven the next morning by the world. Alongside Saint Patty’s day, he could get black out drunk and not be seen as a loser for a day. He could be a blunt, wreckless version of himself that night and have no repercussions from it save for a monumental hangover the following day.

Of course, none of this logic was true. You get false confidence to send a few stupid texts, fight a few people, maybe kiss a stranger or two-- but once the night’s over, you’re the same person who did all those things. It was you the whole time, and it never changed. You might say you’ll be better the next day (or next year), but it being a new year doesn’t change you. Once that year long timer comes back to the last few hours, you do it all again.

Pim was more favorable of Christmas.

Instead of living in the moment, he thought of his future. He reminisced on his past to what might be an unhealthy amount. He was a Romantic; he felt nostalgic for a time he remembers differently than how it happened, and he daydreams for a life he will likely only partially succeed in achieving. His goals are always slightly askew; trying to relive a past that didn’t actually happen a certain way, or trying to work towards something that he’s only seen in several tacky romance movies.

That might be why he likes Christmas so much; every Christmas was recorded on awful home video VHS’s, and sure, there would be arguing, but he’d be right there on camera, smiling and enjoying Christmas like he should. He would watch them sometimes when he came home. Who cared if his dad was cursing out his mom in the back of the video? He’d just skip those parts and reminisce on how cool he thought the nerf gun set he got that year was. He’d skip past the part where he shot his older brother in the eye and they started brawling on the floor. He’d skip past the parts on the tape where it was him in highschool, despondent, confused, and scared with the added touch of his new baby sister screaming the whole tape. He would usually go until he hit the Christmas before he moved out. He always stopped the fast forward when he recognized the scene-- blue tinsel on the tree, their old house in Adelaide, Australia, and probably the last time he was as close with his family as he was. For a while after that, the tapes weren’t as charming. First off, he wouldn’t be there until a few years later when his family moved to the US. Not to mention, he could remember the rest of them vaguely.

Maybe Pim and Charlie’s preferred holidays showed some deep facet of their personalities, maybe not.

Regardless of what holiday they liked better for whatever unspoken reason, both critters were excited to leave the office once their clocks struck 5. They didn’t have a timeclock, no, but Mr. Boss remained on company grounds until the shift officially ended; he was dedicated, and he ensured his workers were, too. This meant skipping out early was unlikely. Very unlikely.

Especially on the last shift right before their holiday vacation started.

Of course, the concept of holiday vacation was something new. Since a certain OSHA non-compliant fatal workplace incident two years ago, Mister Boss began rolling the ball on mandatory holiday PTO. He made an effort to prioritize the health of his workers over a few smiles made during the holidays. Charlie wasn’t gonna deny free PTO, but he did question the logistics of having no one working during the roughest time of the year. He was reassured that they as workers were to be prioritized; if the people making others smile are dead, then how can people smile? It seemed like kind of a half-baked response for the trouble he’d have had to go through to support such a decision, but again, Charlie didn’t want to argue against free PTO.

Allan, Glep, Pim and Charlie all are relaxing in the breakroom now. The hum of the lights are louder and it seems like even the heater is ready for a vacation as it runs colder than it has the past month. Charlie and Pim only had two clients today; one old man who wanted to visit the moon before he died (he was on his deathbed and they staged a quirky performance dressed as aliens to convince him he was there, which only worked because he was high out of his mind on various medications-- he died immediately afterwards), and a super rich guy that needed help picking out a gift for his family that would make them smile and, by association, him too. They went through a classic montage styled time of trying out different gifts, but ultimately giving them each 3.8 million dollars in cheque worked. He gave Charlie and Pim each a lonesome penny to fund their Christmas’s. Pim was endeared. Charlie was not.

They got back with an hour to spare and have hung out since.

Allan squeaks the break room sink faucet on and off a few times. He grumbles.

“The hot wat-err is off againn.” He begins futilely washing his used coffee mug with cold water and a firm sponge.

“Awww, what?! I thought we just got that fixed!” Pim whines.

Glep tunes in and adds context— “aekajjsxhcah ptotuckcakc jvvjwalc cakscjs wjejrw cjcjde totij fusj xockd fjfjs.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Pim responds, surrendering his frustration.

“Yea-hh. I guess Mister Boss is already on it.” Allan replies and continues washing the dish; Pim watches inattentively.

Glep is on his iPad doing important work. “Scouting for frowning faces online” was his excuse on his last self evaluation once it was brought up a third time by Allan.

Charlie was on his computer playing Rust.

Pim sat there, waiting.

Pim was extra excited for the holidays this year. He rarely got to spend time with his family. He felt very lucky that he could spend upwards of a week with them now, even if it was at the expense of Charlie’s life (sort of).

Pim looks over at Charlie. He seems very in his element; he’s a self proclaimed pro-gamer, why wouldn’t he be? Pim wonders if he’s gonna play Rust for the entirety of their break. Charlie mutters a quiet “shit,” and spams his mouse. It’s not enough, apparently, and he groans, releasing himself from the clutches of the computer and leaning back in the chair. Pim looks away.

It’s about seven minutes now until they’re free.

The door opens and Mr. Boss walks in. He sees Charlie gaming and watches for a second silently, only saying “oh, nice” when he gets a good item. Mr. Boss looks up at everyone. “Before you guys go, I’ve got a little somethin’ for ya.”

Mr. Boss pulls out a manilla folder and slaps it down on the breakroom table.

“What is that?” Charlie asks cautiously.

“Oh, just some homework for your vacation!”

They collectively groan.

“Don’t worry, guys!” Mr. Boss pulls thin packets out of the folder and passes them out. “I just want to make sure we get in the holiday spirit! I want everyone to make one person smile before the year ends, heehee!”

Charlie looks at the packet and thumbs through the pages.

“This is like, 7 pages dude. Double sided. This is more than we do for regular clients.”

“Yeeerrrp. It’s actually a paper version of our remote position client completion form.”

“There’s a remote position?” Allan asks— the dish is no longer important.

“Oh, yeah, sillies! We have 372 smiling friends workers working remote around the clock to make people smile! They get to work from wherever they want, choose their own hours, and they even make more than you guys do!”

There’s a moment of silence before everyone seemingly opens their mouth to speak. Mr. Boss is quicker, though.

“Aaaaanyway, I hope you guys have a good vacation! And make sure to fill out the entire packet! Remember, you only have to make one person smile, but you do have to fill out the registration form on the back of page 4 and the release form on page 3 and also the customer satisfaction form on the back for them confirming that they smiled. It’s really not that much!”

Mr. Boss was in the doorway about to leave.

“Wait wait wait wait, Mr. Boss,” Charlie is desperate, “about the remote position--”

“Byeeee guys! Merry Christmas!”

He closes the door.

“And happy new year!” He yells to them, muffled through the door.

Charlie groans and melts into his chair a little.

“I never knew there was a remote position,” Allan confesses.

“Me neither,” Pim mutters a little despondent.

“I… how much more do you think they make?” Allan asks, setting his dish down to dry.

“I dunno. I mean… probably… a good bit more.” Pim answers.

“Well,” Charlie closes his laptop and stands up, “I’m heading out. We have nothing else going on and I haven’t eaten anything all day. Anyone want to go to Spaghetti Disco?”

“That’s fancy,” Pim comments as he scratches at some crud on the table with his finger.

Charlie starts packing his laptop away in its case. “I’m just craving spaghetti, man. Are you in?”

“Yeah, I guess. What about you, Allan and Glep?”

“I guess, sure-uh.”

“jwkewjekjwefsdjkfskdhe.”

“Oh, that’s right, Glep, we were going to go on that movie double date. How could I forget-uh?”

“Oh! What movie?”

“Bimblar Seven. Kickolas Nagé is in it.” Allan rubs at a water droplet mark on his tie.

“Oh, wow! The pro footy player slash pro swimmer slash pro actor?”

“Yeah. I would invite you but I think the tickets are sold out-uh. And it’s a double date.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Pim’s definitely a little bummed out-- “I’ll be getting spaghetti with Charlie, anyway.”

“Okay, well,” Charlie claps, “you ready to go, Pim?”

“Yep!”

“Cool. Uhhhh, see you guys next year then?”

“See ya.”

“Jwejwejkwesdfj.”

“Aight. C’mon, Pim.”

///

Of course spaghetti disco had a bar— and of course the main course Charlie aimed for was some special holiday drink he saw them posting about on social media. He took a seat at the bar before Pim could suggest a booth or maybe a table somewhere.

It’s fine, Pim thinks. Really not the end of the world.

Pim struggles to work his way up on top of the bar stool. When he finally makes it, he’s just a little bit out of breath. Charlie looks over just in time to say, “oh, dude, I could have helped you.”

Pim waves it off with a smile. His shirt is wrestled out from so tightly tucked in his pants. It’s fine, he’s gonna be eating (and presumably drinking the way Charlie wants to take this night) so he may as well leave himself a smidge disheveled.

“You know, Charlie,” Pim tries three or four times to perch his chin on his balled fist comfortably, “I didn’t ask what you’re doing for Christmas. You celebrate, right?”

Their spaghetti arrives and they thank the waitress. It’s in the same cup they use for their drinks; a trademark of Spaghetti Disco. It almost looks like worms, and Pim scrunches his face at it a little.

“Well yeah, I’m Catholic,” Charlie adds pointedly. The bartender slides an Iron City to each of their spots in addtion to Charlie’s Christmas themed drink. They both thank him subtly.

“Well— I wasn’t sure, I mean.. I know a lot of people that are Catholic that don’t practice.”

Charlie throws back a hefty swig of the beer. He grimaces and sets it down. Some of it dribbles down his lip. He steals a sip of the Christmas drink and cringes worse.

“Yeah, but like— here’s the thing, Pim. Christmas is like, not even a holiday anymore dude. It’s like…” Charlie takes off his hat, runs his hand through his hair, and replaces the hat, “it’s just a thing to get people to buy shit now. You know? Like-like I haven’t had, like, a magical—or whatever— Christmas since I was a kid.”

“Oh, Charlie! That’s not fair,” Pim frowns. “You deserve to have a good Christmas again. That’s so sad!”

“No no, Pim, you’re missing the point. I’m saying no one has them anymore once you’re older. Like it’s all just fuckin… matching Christmas pjs at Walmart that you wear like, once… and stuff that kinda just goes on sale and-and they throw away after Christmas because no one fuckin-“ he burps— “Excuse me. No one fuckin wants, like… a fuckin “Ho Ho Ho I’m- there’s a baby on the way!” shirt after, like, Christmas morning. Like it all just gets thrown away.”

He takes a big sip of his drink and a heaping bite of spaghetti, commenting under his breath that it’s hitting the spot. Pim takes the minute to really hear what he has to say.

“Hmm.” Is all he has to reply with at first. Charlie is still chewing, so Pim articulates a better response as he winds up a fork of spaghetti. “You know, I think-I think it’s situational. I think it’s really wonderful in the right situation. Like, the-“

“Like the… Pj’s? And shit?”

“The- yeah. Like, if it’s with the right people.”

Charlie shoots him a suspicious look as he says this.

“What, are you talking about your family? Because-“

And they both talk at once,

“Yeah! I mean, they’re not perfect, but— oh.“

“Because they seemed horrible last time— oh.”

A quiet moment passes. Charlie looks away awkwardly.

“Sorry, Pim.”

“You thought they were horrible?”

“I mean, yeah, man. They were like… fully fucking shooting at each other. With guns. Like that’s…. That’s abnormal. I’d honestly avoid people like that. And try to get the, um, kids out of that situation.”

“Well, yeah, they shouldn’t— I mean I’m not disagreeing with you, but they’re still my family, and it’s not that bad if you just go away when they do it.”

“Pim. That’s not normal. Like- like genuinely, I’d avoid them. That sounds awful. You get to go away, they don’t.”

“But, I still love them, you know? Like, I can’t just… and you know, the kids, too. Like they need to talk to someone, um, normal. Like I think coming by is good for them.”

“Just call, like, CPS.”

“Oh, um- Mister Frog actually got rid of CPS a few months ago.”

“What?” Charlie stops mid bite. “Like- like really?”

“Yeah, he- it was kind of sudden. Um. I think I told you when it happened, like at the office, I guess you didn’t hear me…”

“Yeah, no, I definitely didn’t. That’s awful. I hope those kids’ll be alright.”

With the conversation becoming a bit heavier, they both take a minute to eat. Pim looks at Charlie a lot. At some point, Pim opens his mouth to talk, then closes it. Then,

“So, you’ve got no plans then?” Pim asks.

“I’m gonna get wasted and I’m gonna play some Rust. The patch they just put out should make these idiots running the server I’m on lose everything. It’s gonna be great.”

“Oh. Well, anything else?”

Charlie finishes his beer and it’s replaced with a new one when the bartender passes by. The Christmas drink is being ignored.

“That’s pretty much it.”

“No holiday stuff? At all?”

“Probably gonna find a new years party.”

“Nothing for Christmas. then?”

“Nah, I guess not.”

They both take long gulps of their drink.

“So.” Pim says. He doesn’t make eye contact. “Charlie…”

“Yeah?” Charlie has spaghetti taking up his entire mouth and face. He suffers from late stage spaghetti kid syndrome, evidently.

“Would… so, you don’t have to, and I know you just kind of made your stance clear, but I thought I’d ask…” Pim takes a big breath. “I’m supposed to stay a little over a week at my family’s house for Christmas and I can do it alone, I do every year, but I thought I’d ask because-”

“Pim. No.”

“Oh please, Charlie! Come with me! I promise we can make it fun, it will be a grand adventureee!” He throws his arms up for emphasis.

Charlie crosses his arms.

“No, dude. I’m firm about this. There are a million other things I’d rather do. I’d have to, like, lose my apartment or something.”

Pim frowns and leaves it.

If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be, Pim thinks. No use forcing it.

“Alright. But if you feel super sad and lonely and in need of Christmas cheer text me-“ “I won’t.“ “-because I’m leaving around lunchtime.” “Okay, man.”

They eat the rest of their spaghetti, have a few more drinks, and talk about remote work. They talk a lot about remote work. They both leave for their separate apartments by the end of the night.

Charlie, cranky,sits in Pim’s car the next morning, his overnight bag in the back and his snarkiness in full swing. Pim is practically bubbling over in excitement at the wheel.

“I just can’t believe both your power and electricity went out as soon as you got home,” Pim can’t hold back his excitement in his voice. “What are the odds?!”

It was true-- Charlie was only home for a few minutes before everything fizzled out. He’d got a call a few minutes later that the power to his apartment building went out (duh) due to the generator being crushed by a wrecking ball used in nearby construction, so there would be no heating or electricity at his place for at least a week. They didn’t even say sorry-- it was an automated call.

His first move would be to couch surf until then, but his options seemed exhausted before he even began looking. Zoey was in California for a highschool friend’s wedding and Christmas with her family, and her roommates definitely wouldn’t want him staying there alone. His uncle lived all the way over past Pittsburgh, so that was a no. Tyler moved to Pittsburgh too a few months ago after getting let off. He claimed the music scene there was “just better”. Fuck Pittsburgh, Charlie thought more than a few times after getting the news. Everyone’s moving to fuckin’ Pittsburgh.

He could get a motel or hotel or Airbnb or Vrbo or whatever, but with the cost of that he might as well go to Brazil and back all over again. He called Pim and he came to pick him up. He crashed at his place and got hardly any sleep.

Pim’s excitement alongside all of this rubbed him the wrong way.

“Pim, can you not treat this as some awesome thing? For one thing, I had to throw out my groceries this week ‘cause of all this. I had, like, really good leftovers I was looking forward to eating.”

“Oh, Charlie, don’t be like that… we can go to the place it’s from when we get back if that’ll make you feel better. My family’s probably gonna cook food all week for us, too, and maybe you can take home some leftovers if you’d like!”

Charlie groans.

“That’s not the point though, man. I just wanted to go home and relax. This year has been nothing but chaos and I think I deserve to just do what I want for a little.”

Especially when the only reason we have this break is because I literally died, he nearly adds, but he bites his tongue.

Pim is quiet. He would hardly call playing Rust relaxing the way he’s seen Charlie react to it, but to each their own he supposes. He tries to think of solutions.

“Well, I mean, you could just take whatever time we have left outside of activities to play video games, or watch your shows or whatever it is you do to relax.”

“Yeah but Pim, that’s the thing, I want to do that and only that. Not that and- and activities, I just wanna relax man.”

“Oh, it will be fun, Charlie!” Pim nudges Charlie with his elbow. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I would and I am.”

They drive for about an hour, stopping for coffee at Wawa on the way. It helps, but the annoyance of the whole situation still grates on Charlie, and the looping track of “Dooty Da” on the radio doesn’t help. Charlie decides that it has lost its charm and he turns down the dial.

“If I’m forced to go along with all this, then I’m choosing the music. ‘Kay?”

“Yeah, sure, I can listen to whatever.”

Charlie pulls out the filthy old phone adapter cord for the company car (the end where it plugs into the phone is bent and worn so bad the wire is exposed) and he sloppily plugs his phone into the AUX.

“Alright, uhhhhhh… how much longer do we have on the drive?”

“Hmm? Oh, um… another half hour, I’d say.”

“Okay, Pim, you gotta listen to this. Like really listen. It’s like a yearly tradition for me to listen to this album.”

Pim’s interested now.

“And you haven’t shown me this before?” He fiddles with the seam of the leather steering wheel.

“Nah, it’s like- you gotta listen to the whole thing if you’re gonna listen...”

“Yeah, alright! Put it on, yeah.”

Charlie sits through around 12 seconds of two different Youtube ads, skipping as soon as he could.

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…”

“Oh, it’s Christmas music! This sounds pleasant!”

“This is the most recent one that came out last year. Every year he writes a new one and adds it to the album. I’m waiting on this year’s.”

“Who is this?”

“Uhh, Mac Demarco. His stuff is amazing, man. Seriously, he’s like, an idol of mine.”

Pim’s happy to see Charlie a little happier. The next song comes on and Pim subtly bops his head to it.

“This one’s a little creepy, haha.”

Charlie takes a big sip of his coffee. “Yea, he’s got range.”

They listen to the music some more and comment on a dog they see in a passing car. Some flurries start up as they take the exit off the highway and ease into the suburbs. House after house is decorated in elaborate Christmas decorations that Pim excitedly gawks at and points to, to which Charlie feels his blood pressure heighten. The further they go outbound, the less fancy the light displays are. There are more of those silly inflatable yard decorations, now. Then, it eases into maybe a few strings on a hedge, or maybe a partially driven over blow mold decoration arrangement, glowing Santas beaming at Charlie and Pim as they drive by.

The album lasts them the rest of the car ride. They talk over some songs and Charlie shushes him for others. When they reach the familiar apartment complex, Charlie seems to be in a better mood overall. Pim makes a mental note to let Charlie DJ in the future.

They pull into the back and see Pim’s mother smoking on the back porch. The flurries have calmed entirely to a flake here and there and there’s a thin layer of snow over everything, replenishing what melted the previous day.

The two get out of the car and she sees them.

“PIMOTHY!”

Pim’s mother snubs her cigarette quickly and rushes over in her pink slippers. She wraps Pim in a big hug, swaying him a little. Charlie goes to grab their bags, and when he comes back, they’re talking about so many different things so quickly Charlie has trouble keeping up. He accidentally makes eye contact with Pim’s mom, who, almost as if she were waiting for a cue, swoops Charlie into a hug.

“Oh, uh,” Charlie doesn’t hug back. He’s visibly uncomfortable.

“How are you, sweetheart? Are you keeping Pim under control?”

Charlie pauses. He realizes he has an opportunity to be very funny and also get revenge on Pim.

“Oh, you know. He’s all mixed up in trouble at the office,” he deadpans.

“What?!”

“Oh he didn’t tell you? Yeah, Pim’s been really into getting up to unprofessional scandalous stuff at work. He brings women in all the time--”

Pim’s contented expression watching the family bonding unfold quickly morphs into one of confusion, then horror.

“HAH! Charlie’s joking,” and he pushes at Charlie’s belly to separate the two. He looks at Charlie desperately. “Right, Charlie?”

“Yeah, I’m joking,” he cheeses and looks back at Pim. Mischief lingers in his voice. “Except the last part. He’s one hundred percent a total ladies man. He picks up chicks on the job all the time, honest.”

“PIM! Is this true?! I thought this job was going to keep you honest!” When the pressure was on Pim, Charlie didn’t mind it at all.

“Agh- Charlie! No, it’s not true, mum…” He facepalms.

“What about Jennifer, man?”

“Who?”

“Jennifer, with all the- from the Shrimp adventure.”

Pim looks away quickly, his face heating up. His hands fidget with each other.

“Well…that was different.”

“I thought you would have grown out of that, Pim.” She sighs, and starts walking back to the duplex. “Come inside, get out of this cold. Your siblings have been talking about you all day.”

Pim turns to the car to start carrying bags, and Charlie already has them all in his hands as he shuts the door.

“Oh-- do you want help? That looks heavy…”

“I’m good, man. Just get the door. And do the talking.”

“Okay, sure.”

They follow a little distance behind his mom. Charlie leans a little towards Pim and asks, “so, what’d you grow out of?”

Pim can hear the smile in his voice and he hides his face in his hands. He blushes in embarrassment.

“Argh. I didn’t think she would bring that up…” Pim sighs, “Alright. I dated a ton of girls in highschool-- that’s it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she kind of focuses on it a lot, I don’t know why, maybe its a mum thing--”

“Nah, not that. I’m shocked that you- that you had game in highschool.”

“What? Oh, well. I didn’t really know what I was doing,” he confesses. “I was definitely… doing it wrong, looking back.”

“Clearly not, man. You said it, I mean, you dated a ton of girls. And your parents are still mad about it, that’s gotta count for something.”

Pim laughs a little as they get to the patio door.

“You’re funny, Charlie.”

They go inside, wipe their shoes, and are greeted with chaos. If the kids had the capabilities to bounce off the walls, they would be. When Pim walks in, they swarm him. They dogpile him with a hug and before Charlie can get a firm count of how many there are, they’re off again, crawling through the walls and running up the stairs and chasing each other from room to room to room. Pim looks overjoyed and very frazzled down on the floor. Charlie wordlessly helps him up.

“Let’s go set our stuff down upstairs, Charlie.”

They pass through the front room (the holiday tinsel is up and Pim cups his hands to his cheek in adoration) and Charlie hears the TV on in the living room as he follows Pim up the stairs. His dad must be watching something. The occasional shout or laugh from the kids running around keeps Charlie a little on edge.

As they ascend the dark, carpeted staircase, Charlie squints at all the photos, trying to scrape up any blackmail against Pim. At some point, he sets down a bag on the stairs awkwardly and he puts his hand on Pim’s shoulder to stop him.

“Hm? Yes Charlie?”

“Looking pretty dapper here, buddy.”

He points to a photo of Pim wearing a tux, bow tie, and corsage— not to mention the girl on his arm. His smile is massive and his glasses are apparent. The girl looks a little uncomfortable.

Pim laughs-- “Oh no, I thought mum took this down a while ago,” and he reaches for it, only for Charlie to grab it off the wall first.

“Charlie! What are you doing?”

“I need a picture of this, man.”

“NO! What do you need that for? That’s horrible!” He tries unsuccessfully to grab it from Charlie’s hand. Charlie just holds it higher.

“You owe me for dragging me along. This totally counts as part of it.”

“No way. Charlie!” He tries to reach it again, and he accidentally encroaches on Charlie’s personal space. He bumps into Charlie’s stomach and puts a hand on his belly to brace himself. He looks up at him.

“It’s this or something worse.” Charlie threatens casually.

Pim goes quiet.

“Like what?”

“I ‘unno, I’ll think of something.”

They look at each other.

Charlie knows Pim will accept the conditions just looking at his expression, so he sets the other bags down precariously and grabs his phone from his pocket.

“Ugh, fine.” Pim resigns as Charlie takes the photo. He then takes a selfie with it with a fake horrified expression in reaction to it. “Why that one?!”

“I dunno,” he laughs, “thought it might be funny.”

Charlie grabs the stuff again and they continue upstairs.

“Alright. I better not see these in the work Slack, though.”

“No, no, of course not,” Charlie replies, having already sent it to the work Slack.

The rest of the photos on the walls are all pretty innocuous; it all is very domestic. Charlie feels like he shouldn’t be allowed here in this bubble of domesticity before the storm of reality that is Pim’s family hits. He kind of wishes that something will just ruin the moment already so he doesn’t have to look around the corner for something horrible, metaphorically.

Non-metaphorically, Amy pokes her head out from around the corner at the top of the stairs.

“Ew— Pim? I thought you weren’t coming to Christmas this year.”

“What? Who said that?”

“Oh. No one, I made it up. But I was still excited for you to not show up.”

Pim laughs nervously.

“Well, here we are! I brought my coworker Charlie to stay with us. You remember Charlie, right?”

Charlie does a peace sign. “Yo.”

Amy stares blankly at them.

“Anyway, Brad’s over, soooo… don’t bother us.”

She goes back to her room and slams the door.

“She was nicer to me that time, I think.”

They make it to the once-Pim’s-room-now-game-room-slash-guest-room and drop their stuff inside. There’s one kid idling in there and playing Roblox on his Kindle. Pim shoos him out of the room and closes the door behind Charlie and himself.

“Here we are!” Pim says whimsically. “Oh, so many wonderful memories in here…”

Charlie looks around— it’s a mess of toys, AC units, and other child memorabilia that wasn’t deemed important enough to have out. Crazy messy.

“So we’re staying in your family’s storage room? Why don’t they just get like, a storage unit somewhere?”

“I don’t think it’s enough to warrant a storage unit, do you?”

“Maybe, man. You might get cockroaches or something if you leave it all on the floor like this.”

“Hmm. Maybe you’re right.” Pim thinks to every other issue in this house that he’d like to resolve first and shakes away the tidiness mission for later. “Anyway, there’s an air mattress around here, I just have to find it,” Pim starts looking under stacks of various clutter.

“Yeah. I was gonna say...”

They both eye the single twin bed.

“I’ll find that as soon as possible if you want to start unpacking…” Pim starts checking the closet. “Agh. It’s just board games in here, and… oh wait! Yes! Epic!” He pulls out a crumpled air mattress with an air pump still plugged into it. He starts clearing out an area for it on the floor. “I’ll take the air mattress since I’m not sure how reliable it is. Would you mind taking my old bed? It’ll be much comfier than this.”

“Yeah man, I don’t care.” Charlie starts grabbing handfuls of toys and cramming them into the already crammed space under the bed. There’s some semblance of bedding, but years of crumbs, dust and dead bugs have accumulated. “Uhhh… got any different bedding?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah. I’ll get that for you now.”

While Pim’s gone, Charlie goes on his phone. He has a few missed snaps— two from Zoey, one from Tyler. Zoey’s is at the beach. She’s smiling and having fun with her friends— they’re all drinking zany colored drinks. Charlie wishes he was too. Tyler’s snap is of a house party where he’s made it behind the DJ’s stand, absolutely destroying the crowd with his stuff. It’s short, but Charlie can tell he’s having a blast. He replies to each of them with a photo of a dead spider on the bed. He captions it, “me rn”. Pim gets back and he puts his phone away.

“Oh, geez man, you got all that?”

Pim holds a tower of bedding— two sets of comforters, pillowcases, blankets, and sheets. “Can you take the bedding off your bed really quickly?” There’s a frantic element to his request and Charlie does as told. He tosses it by the door and Pim drops the bedding on the bed with an exaggerated exhale. He starts on making the mattress.

They spend maybe twenty minutes setting everything up. Charlie settles for a sheet and a blanket, but Pim insists on making it for him if he wouldn’t. The air mattress is only a foot away parallel to Charlie’s bed.

“Alright, it’s 6:30. What do you want to do next, Charlie? I think my family wanted to go out for dinner.”

“You know, I’d really like to but I’m feeling pretty tired, man. I might sit that one out and catch up on some sleep here.”

“Aww, alright. Did you want me to get you anything?”

“Uhhhh, yeah. You know what I like,” and Charlie kicks his shoes off as he sits on the side of his bed. Pim heads over to the doorway. “Lights off?” He asks, to which Charlie politely says, “yes please.”

“Okay, well… sleep well.” Pim smiles sweetly at Charlie and closes the door behind him.

Now it’s time for Charlie to do what he wanted to do from the start.

Rust time.

The second Pim’s footsteps hit the stairs, Charlie speeds over and locks the door. Going back to his bed, he sits down and roots through his bag. He pulls out his laptop, mouse, charger, and headphones, and sets everything up. He’s all ready until he realizes he needs wifi.

He checks everywhere. It’s nowhere he’d expect it to be. He considers texting Pim for a minute, but his cover would be blown. Out of options, he returns to his bed and lies down. He groans and sets his stuff on the floor.

He’s pissed— the only thing he wanted to do was check this update. He’ll ask Pim as soon as he gets back. Maybe he can squeeze in an hour or two tonight when they get back. He hopes Pim won’t have an issue with him staying up late to play.

He drifts off, missing his apartment and what he could have had for the next week. He doesn’t expect himself to actually fall asleep.

Charlie wakes up to Pim opening the door. The excess light that comes through the door behind Pim’s silhouette is enough to make Charlie squint.

“Agh.”

“Oh! Charlie! Sorry— I didn’t know you were awake!”

Pim takes a step in. He isn’t wearing what he had on before— it’s some navy blue crew neck and sweats.

“How long was I out?” Charlie asks as he sniffles hard and rubs his eyes.

“Well, it’s 11 something…”

“What?” Charlie sits up incredulously. “Why didn’t you wake me up when you got back?!”

“You looked so cozy, I couldn’t! Plus, the dinner was, uh… weird. I assumed you’d want to sleep through the aftermath of that, so.”

Charlie checks his phone and doesn’t respond to Pim. He didn’t have any new texts. Maybe the notifications didn’t register— he opens Snapchat and checks it anyway.

“So…” Pim continues, “I mean, I just got ready for bed, I was gonna go to sleep now.” His sentence fizzles out. Then he throws on, “I don’t know if you want to go back to sleep, or…?”

He eases back down. “I guess,” he says with no confidence in his voice. Pim closes the door behind him and it goes dark. Charlie only now notices the glow in the dark stars that littered the ceiling over by the window. Pim climbs in bed.

“Your food’s in the fridge, by the way. It’s labeled.”

Charlie shoots back up.

“Oh- okay. No, I’m doing that definitely, yeah. I’ll be right back.”

Charlie doesn’t care to put his shoes on as he sneaks downstairs. The lights are all out, and the television is still on. Upon further inspection, Pim’s dad is asleep on the couch. He snores loudly.

Charlie finds the styrofoam box with “Charlie :-)” written on it. He spares no time in putting it in the microwave. He grabs a fork (he goes through all the drawers and of course it’s the last one) and a napkin. While it cooks, he roots around for something to drink. There’s some orange juice left in the bottom of a jug. He grabs the entire thing and, as his food finishes up, carries everything he foraged with him upstairs.

He sneaks into the room, closes the door quietly, tiptoes over to his bed, and sits down. It’s fries and what looks like a Buffalo chicken wrap. He takes a massive bite and it all feels worth it for a second.

“Charlie, are you eating in here?” Pim’s voice is meek.

“Oh shit. I thought you were asleep already.”

Pim laughs sleepily.

“Almost. That smells really good though.”

“You want a fry?”

“I already brushed my teeth,” Pim says dismally. Charlie shrugs and Pim can’t see.

“You can always rebrush ‘em.”

Pim stretches in his bed and makes a noise Charlie ignores. “Mmm. Maybe.” After a few seconds of thinking about it, he says “yeah, pass me one.”

“Alright!” He hands it to Pim and fist bumps him before he takes his hand away. Pim’s fist is limp and unexpecting. “You know, if it helps, Pim, I’m not brushing my teeth. I forgot my toothbrush at home.”

“Charlie! You could have told me, we could have stopped somewhere…” Pim sits up and scoots over to the edge of his mattress to grab more fries from the box in Charlie’s lap.

“We can get one tomorrow and I’ll brush twice as long or something tomorrow night to make up.”

“That’s not how that works,” and Charlie hears the smirk in Pim’s words.

“Yeah it is. I’ll just scrub off what I didn’t scrub off tonight, it’s not like it’s keeping count or whatever. And— besides, people from like, the 1700’s were making laws or whatever for our country and they didn’t even brush their teeth, they didn’t have this shit, so… yeah.”

“Is that true?”

“I dunno, probably. But it’s not gonna kill me if I skip one night.”

“I’m googling it.”

Their hands touch as they both reach for a fry. Nothing is said.

“It says-“

“What says? What’s your source?”

“Uhh, Reddit. They say-“

“Dude. Get a different source. Go to Wikipedia or something.”

“What? This is fine, they probably took their answer from Wikipedia anyway. They say that people have been brushing their teeth since ancient times with sticks and such, but the added sugars in our diet today make our teeth rot. And something about our teeth being closer together now too.” Pim looks up. “So you should definitely get a toothbrush tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t gonna argue with you, I’m just saying one night is fine.”

“Well, let me look that up-“

“It’s not gonna change what I do. I don’t have a toothbrush right now, I don’t really have any options, man.”

Pim clicks his tongue. “Right.”

“Yeah.”

Charlie finishes his wrap and pim finishes off the fries that Charlie couldn’t force down. Pim goes to brush his teeth again and Charlie lays back down. He’s not really tired, but that’s never stopped him from sleeping.

Charlie can’t help but to thank god for the short day. At least there was good food, good music, and good sleep.

Now they just had to do that for a week.

#sf #my art #smiling friends #charpim #my writing #smiling friends but it’s a hallmark movie #long post

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cressidagrey · 3 months

Text

Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours- Chapter 1: The Morrigan

Summary:

5 Times Cassian thought that Azriel had feelings for somebody and then 1 time he finally met the girl his brother was in love with.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

It all started with a glowing ball thing for Nyx’s Birthday.

Azriel, who was notoriously known for absolutely hating to buy gifts for anybody that weren’t very practical and needed….bought Nyx a ball filled with glowing magic, which was the kind of thing the Tartera fairies used to give their kids to play with.

Cassian just wondered where Azriel had picked that up. There hadn't been any mention of any missions related to the lesser fairies that lived in the mountains surrounding Velaris, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

Still…

Azriel of all people suddenly being knowledgeable about children's toys?

Well, Cassian had not lived nearly 540 years to find that too weird.

And Nyx loved his glowing ball thing.

So maybe it wasn’t that weird.

It was Nyxie’s 2nd birthday, of course, they were going to get him gifts.

It was natural. That was what uncles were supposed to do.

“I have seen these before. Tartera use them for their children,” Amren said, a comment thrown into the conversation and left there as Azriel murmured something about having gotten it from somebody he knew.

And maybe if it had just been the ball and nothing else…then he would have thought nothing about it.

But it didn’t.

A few days later Azriel showed up after a mission, and unceremoniously handed Feyre a few pressed watercolour paints.

Azriel, Azriel who absolutely hated finding gifts for anybody , brought home paints for Feyre because he saw them and thought she would like them.

He wasn’t the only one who stared at him at that. Even Rhys seemed more bemused than anything by Azriel handing his mate a couple of paints and then disappearing again.

Still…Cassian wondered. What in the world had brought this one now? Why buy anybody anything that was…well….

It was a thoughtful gift, he needed to admit it. And he was sure that Feyre appreciated the paints.

But still.

More intel was clearly needed. Maybe it was just a one-off. Who knew what was happening in Azriel’s brain most of the time?

Cassian loved his brother. He liked to think that he knew him after over 500 years.

And then something happened and he wondered if any of them even knew Azriel at all. Tightly controlled, protective but still with a fierce temper that took a long time to rise but when it did…then his name of Lord of Bloodshed made him look like a puppy against Azriel.

Azriel waited and waited and then stroked out viper quickly and far harsher than needed.

Days later, Azriel handed Nesta two hairpins that also doubled as Stiletto Blades.

Just as beautiful and deadly as Cassian’s mate.

They were works of art. Even somebody as uncultured as Cassian could see that. A pair of quicksilver, lightly curved things that were carefully and painstakingly engraved. The rubies at the top seemed to glow, nearly matching Cassian’s syphons.

Quite frankly, it was a better gift than he had managed to get his mate for her last birthday.

“I thought you would like them,” Azriel said, his voice quiet, nearly hesitant.

Regardless of how prickly Nesta could be, even she wasn’t about to bite off Azriel’s head when he looked so hopeful that she was going to like them.

Especially not, because for some reason, Nesta seemed to dote on Azriel sometimes nearly. So Cassian watched bemused as Nesta took them, a beautiful smile on her face, thanks to a gift his brother had given her.

“A friend of mine made them. Let me know if they work, they were a test pair,” Azriel explained to Nesta, who nodded with a bloodthirsty little grin.

“If they do, do I get more?” Nesta asked him and Azriel just inclined his head.

“In any colour you want,” he promised her. Cassian knew that Azriel was serious about it. If Nesta came to him in a week and told him she wanted a pair set with emeralds, Azriel was going to get them for her.

Az was like that.

Hiding a surprisingly soft heart behind layers and layers of sharp spikes.

And then, after the next time, he went somewhere…Azriel came back with a knife for Mor.

Oh no.

Suddenly it all made sense.

Granted it was a pretty knife. A very pretty knife.

But still.

Morrigan .

Azriel had spent half a millennia miserably pining over Mor.

Cassian had also not made it better in the slightest.

Mor had used him to escape an arranged marriage and Cassian was an idiot and had gone for it, because…well, he had been jealous of Azriel. So instead, he had been stupid and hurt his brother enough that Azriel still wasn’t over it.

Azriel had never said anything about it.

Of course not. Azriel was the type to suffer in silence.

Not even when Mor had finally admitted to all of them that she preferred Females, that she was dating Emerie, that she was in love with a woman…it had always just…

Azriel had spent half a millennia pining over Mor and had only gotten over her seemingly a couple of years ago…and then the whole Elain thing had happened.

Elain.

Cassian still wondered what exactly had gone down there.

He didn't know.

Still, he wondered. Wondered, what had pushed between them, because Azriel and Elain seemed to get along so well...and he had really thought that maybe there was something brewing between them. Something more than simple friendship. But of course, she was mated, so really…Azriel had never stood a chance, had he?

Azriel had stayed stoic. Of course.

He didn’t talk about it. Still, Cassian could pinpoint it to Elain and Lucien growing closer…and Az doing everything to stay away from her.

He hadn’t said a word.

He hadn’t needed to. Something had happened, Cassian could see that. He had never seen his brother seem quite that…broken. Quite that…ripped apart.

When Elain and Lucien finally figured things out, it broke Azriel’s heart.

And Azriel had reacted like he always did to pain. Silent.

Azriel had said nothing, done nothing.

He had just…become even quieter than usual. Even more skittish. Cassian knew him well enough to know that pushing him about it was a fucking suicide mission. So he hadn’t.

Still, he wished his brother would rage and fight and Cassian could do something to make it better. And not just...seemingly crawl inside himself and lay down to die.

But then, he had his own problems with Nesta to figure out at the time so maybe he hadn’t been quite the brother that Azriel had needed. Maybe he should have pushed and prodded and gotten Azriel to talk to him about Elain before Lucien and she had disappeared off to the Day Court.

Maybe that would have made sure that Azriel wasn’t going to go back to pine right over Mor.

Which he clearly was going to do.

Starting with that noise.

Azriel would go back to pine over Mor. Never anything salacious. Just quietly. Respectfully. Like his brother was with every fibre of his being.

He wouldn't say anything, do anything that could be constructed as anything but devoted friendship. And he would be devoted. Cassian knew that.

He would be utterly miserable, all because he so desperately wanted somebody that would see him. See not the Terror of the Night Court, the Spymaster that made enemies cower...but him. Azriel. Behind the black leathers and the shadows that clung to him.

Morrigan gave Azriel a gracious smile, always radiant, thanked Azriel and happily took the knife.

Azriel seemed happy about it.

The moment Azriel looked away, Mor shot him a look, pointed and a little bit terrified. She knew. Cassian knew too.

Cassian thought about opening his mouth and saying something right then. He just wasn’t quite sure what. Azriel could gift Mor a dagger if he wanted to. There was nothing bad about it. It wasn’t inappropriate? It was just…

Azriel was gonna go back to pining over unavailable Mor, who these days seemed quite content to have her own winged warrior that decisively was not Azriel, but instead Emerie.

And Azriel was…Azriel was gonna be miserable. He seemingly always was these days.

And Cassian didn’t know how to make it better.

Maybe if he just…Maybe if he just made it very clear to Az that Mor was never going to go for him and that going back to pining over her was not going to make him anything but miserable.

Right.

There was to hope that his brother didn’t outright kill him for it. Better to do it when they were already dressed for that.

He grasped the opportunity at their next sparring session.

“Where did you get it from?” he asked, doing his best not to sound overtly interested in that stupid dagger.

Azriel stared at him like he had gone insane. Come on, just work with him there! Cassian just wanted to help. He wanted his brother to be happy. Was that too much to want?!

“I picked it up in a market in the Summer Court?” Azriel answered questioningly. “I saw it and I thought Mor would like it.”

The worst part was that Cassian was sure that it was the truth. Azriel had seen it and had wanted to please Mor and because of that, he had brought that dagger, with a ruby set in the hilt. Very pretty. Very deadly. Just like her.

“It’s…nice that you…thought of her,” Cassian forced out. It was nice. It was very nice that Azriel had thought about Mor, but…but it just was going to make him even more miserable.

“Cass…just spit it out,” Azriel sighed. Apparently, Cassian wasn’t quite as subtle as he tried to be. “What does it matter that I bought Mor a knife?” It was nearly defensive how he said that.

Nearly defensive, like Azriel expected Cassian to make fun of him because he tried to do something nice.

Cauldron, why couldn’t…why couldn’t Azriel not just meet a nice female that turned out to be his mate?

Somebody utterly common. Like a flower seller in Velaris. That would suit Azriel just fine! Some nice female that would dote on his brother and give him something to heave all that love on that he clearly had and had no outlet for.

He was sure that Azriel would dote on her.

It didn’t seem fair that both Rhys and him had found their mates and Azriel hadn’t. It wasn’t fair, period.

But when had that stupid cooking pot ever cared about what Cassian thought? Never.

“I just mean that…Mor and Emerie are really happy together,“ Cassian ripped off the plaster. Why did he even need to do this? Why couldn’t Azriel just get what he deserved? And that wasn’t pining over Mor, a completely unavailable female who was very happy with her partner.

Azriel stared at him, wide-eyed, a near-wild look in his eyes. Cassian braced himself for an explosion.

None came.

“Yes, they are,” Azriel agreed with him. Earnestly. He meant that.

He was happy for Mor. He was.

Even now, utterly miserable and in love with Mor, he still wanted her to be happy. Even when that wasn't with him. Even when it meant that he had no happiness for himself at all.

Bless the mother, it was breaking Cassian’s fucking heart.

“Cassian, whatever you are thinking…that’s not why I bought Mor the knife,” Azriel said drily.

Cassian just stared at him.

Wait, what?

“Well, why did you?” Cassian challenged him, curious now.

“Because I bought Feyre paint and I got Nesta these hairpins,” Azriel shrugged. “Seemed unfair to Mor.“

It seemed unfair to Mor?

So what, was he gonna buy Amren a pair of earrings next?

“Az, you hate giving people gifts,” Cassian said slowly. Cassian was quite sure that it must be because Azriel never thought that his gifts were thoughtful enough. Even when they were. He was much better at gift-giving than Cassian was.

“Yes, I do,” Azriel agreed, “but I just came across them.” Right. Still.

“Don’t worry, I’ll bring you back something next time if you feel like I am neglecting you. Maybe some flowers.” The audacity. Though the grin that was plastered all over Azriel's face made it worth it.

Fine. Let him be. If Azirel didn’t want to talk to him, then he wasn’t. Cassian was going to keep an eye on his brother. And he was going to make sure that Azriel was going to be happy. Az deserved that.

Even when he was being particularly annoying. “You are an asshole.”

Azriel grinned at him.

A week later, Azriel unceremoniously dumped a bouquet on his lap at a meeting.

Cassian just stared at it.

“Did you really bring me back flowers?” he finally asked with a sigh.

The corner of Azriel’s mouth went up.

“You are ridiculous,” Cass complained, maybe leaning a bit too much into it because if it amused Azriel, of course, he would. “What am I supposed to do with these? Why don’t I get a pretty dagger like Mor did? How is this fair? Rhys, tell him this isn’t fair!”

He could already feel the sneeze starting to come up.

“I don’t know, I think these fit your charming personality much better,” Rhys said drily, picking a piece of lint from his jacket and Cassian glared playfully at Az, who seemed even more than amused about it, his eyes glinting.

“Take your flowers with you,” Cass said, throwing them back at Az, who easily plucked them from the air, handing them off to a swirling shadow that just seemed to wait for it. The bouquet disappeared.

“Fine, I’ll give them to somebody who can appreciate them,” Azriel said with a roll of his eyes.

Huh.

#Azriel Fanfiction #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #my writing #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours #A Court of Gold and Shadows

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lanadelnegan · 1 year

Text

My Past, My Future - Part 4

Negan x Reader x Daryl

Read part three here

Read part 5 (final chapter) here

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, mentions of hurting self

Note: this one's short I'm sorry. also, every time I think I'm working on the final chapter, it just keeps going. this story is writing itself at this point lol.

Let me know if you're #TeamDaryl or #TeamNegan !!!

6 months later...

You never found Negan. You looked for three days straight before you finally headed back to Alexandria defeated and exhausted, and spent the next three weeks alone in your house moping, crying, and wishing he'd come back. You can only hope he's okay and that wherever he is, he's happy.

If it weren't for Daryl checking in on you daily and making you eat, you probably would have starved yourself.

"Babe, ya okay?"

"Huh? Yeah.. You ready?" You smile back at Daryl, throwing your backpack over your shoulder and pushing the negative thoughts out of your head. You can only focus on the present now, forgetting your past and ignoring what the future holds. And you have to remind yourself of that every time your mind drifts to Negan, wondering where he could possibly be.

Did he find someone? Does he still think about me? Is he.. even alive?

Sometimes your thoughts keep you up at night until the guilt eats you alive, but when you look at the man sleeping next to you, you realize how good you actually have it. And you're thankful for him.

You climb on the back of Daryl's bike, hooking your arms around his waist as he drives off, beginning your weekly run together. This time you're planning to go further West, towards territory you've barely explored, hoping to find food and if you're really lucky, more weapons.

Your hands roam underneath his shirt, rubbing his stomach as you lean your head on his back. He drives until it starts to get dark before guiding the bike through an opening in the woods and parking next to a nice open spot.

"Kinda looks like where we had our first kiss." You say, hopping off the bike and noticing a stream up ahead.

Once you both have things set up for the night, Daryl insists you sleep first while he keeps lookout, being the gentleman that he is.

You kiss him goodnight and shut your eyes while snuggling the sleeping bag. Your thoughts drift to Negan again, wondering what he's doing at the moment until Daryl's voice gets your attention.

"Can I ask you somethin?"

You lazily open your eyes. "Always."

"You still think about em?"

Your eyes look down, unable to look at him as you contemplate your answer. If you say yes, you'll hurt him. But if you say no, you're lying to your best friend.

Daryl nods at your silence, knowing your answer already. "Still love em?" He asks.

"I - I dunno.." You answer truthfully. You've had so much time to process things, that you're genuinely unsure if you still love him in that way or not. Of course you'll always care about him, but you also love Daryl now.

Is it possible to love them both?

Morning:

Daryl snores lightly as you watch the sun come up and decide to explore a little. Neither of you spotted a walker the entire night, so you decide it's safe enough to scope around.

You follow the sound of the water nearby and come to the edge, eyes widening when you see a medium-sized waterfall in the distance. The water even looks.. clean. No walkers in sight.

"Baby! Wake up!" You call back to Daryl, ripping off your clothes. You don't wait for him as you run into the cold water. You swim to the waterfall, letting it fall over you as your nipples peak at the coldness. You spot Daryl from across the water, watching him strip down before joining you.

It's not often that the man smiles, so you treasure moments like this, admiring the happiness on his face before he dunks himself under the water completely. You swim to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kneels in the shallow water, gripping your thighs around his waist.

"Life is so fun with you." You whisper before he crashes his lips into yours.

You grind yourself into him as your tongues dance together, feeling his bare semi-erect cock press into you. You allow your hands to run through his long wet hair, leading his head towards your chest. He takes the hint and immediately sucks a nipple into his mouth as you feel him harden completely under the water.

He groans into your mouth before leading you to a large boulder on the edge of the water and lifting you up onto it. His hands spread your legs apart as his head dives between your legs, immediately lapping at your pussy.

You lean up on your elbows to watch him and his blue eyes meet yours as he licks a line from your hole to your clit. You bite your bottom lip hard, trying not to moan out and draw any attention from the dead, until his lips wrap around your erect clit, sucking hard repeatedly.

"Fuck, Daryylll." You moan, letting your head fall back. Your eyes close shut from the bright sun as Daryl stands suddenly, lining himself up to your entrance.

He's not as long as Negan, but wider, and never fails to stretch your walls to the max. You cry out as he pushes all the way into you with one thrust. He pulls you closer to the edge, making the rough rock scratch your back, but you enjoy the pain. You both moan and pant for each other as his hips slam into you.

He's also not as verbal as Negan and.... fuck. You're thinking about him again. You lock eyes with Daryl as he fucks you, wanting to forget about Negan and only concentrate on the man in front of you.. your best friend. Your boyfriend. The only man that should be on your mind.

When his finger finds your clit, it doesn't take long before you're coming apart around him. Daryl feels your walls tighten and pulls out quickly, watching as your juices spray out. He realized he could make you squirt a long time ago, and now it's his new favorite thing.

He pushes back into you, fucking you through your orgasm as his own builds up. His hands rest on the rock as his head drops, watching how your soaked pussy splashes with each thrust of his dick.

He groans hoarsely, pulling out of you as his cum spills all over your stomach and you both breathe heavily as he lazily falls over you.

"Damn girl, never get tired of you." He says before kissing your lips and pulling you back into the water with him.

You both clean up and enjoy the water a little longer before getting out and letting the hot sun dry you off. Once you're dressed, you both hop back on the bike, driving a little further until you decide to pull off to the side of the road.

"Looks like another path." He nods to the wood line before parking the bike out of sight as you both begin walking through the brush.

You continue for what feels like a mile before coming to an old house. The two of you look at each other, silently agreeing to scope it out. It's quiet as you approach the front steps, carefully making your way to the front door. You nod to Daryl as he pushes the door open, surprised to find it unlocked. That's usually a sign that no one's home.

You follow in behind him, holding your knife up as you scan the place. The two of you enter through a tight hallway, passing the kitchen until you come to a small living room. Your eyes widen when you both notice the lit fireplace, telling you that someone's either here or has been recently.

"Shit.. Daryl, we gotta go." You whisper.

"Go wait outside, gonna grab a couple things. Didn't come all the way here for nothin'." He says and you try to argue but he cuts you off. "Go. Be right behind ya."

You kiss him before tiptoeing through the house and finding the front door, quietly pushing it open and closing it shut behind you. You turn, instantly colliding with a tall hard figure.

"Hey sweetheart." The familiar voice makes your mouth drop open as you look up at him, seeing him grin down at you. "God I fuckin' missed ya."

tagging my babies: (lemme know if u wanna be added) @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown@munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @dekuumademecumm

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aeternallis · 2 months

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Kim and his home / A Meta Rant

Y'know, in a lot of post-canon fics I see for Kimchay, there's sometimes this common theme of Kim refusing to move back home, either because he likes his freedom too much, or he just hates Korn to the point he refuses to share a roof with him.

And tbh, strictly speaking from my own personal experience as an Asian, I've always felt this aforementioned theme to be more in line with a western individualistic mindset, rather than the one the show is more accurately set in: an eastern collectivist mindset.

So I thought I'd talk about it~ Having said that, please do not take this as an attack or critique of anyone or their works, it isn't. Fics are fics, headcanons are headcanons, they're meant to be enjoyed as they are. This is simply an observation I made, so again, I want to yap about it.

See, I am of the opinion that since Chay has moved into the Theerapanyakul compound, it’s actually more in line for Kim to move back into the mansion as well, rather than continue to keep away.

This idea is also foreshadowed by Tankhun when he asks Kim in ep. 5:

But before I continue, here's a theory I've been nursing for a while: technically speaking, if one were to line up how Kim and Chay were left off in the show, and how their story picks up in the first KP novel in that order, we already have some idea of how their story would have gone, had BOC and DAEMI’s working relationship not broken down, they weren't as problematic to work with, and Build didn’t have his scandal(s).

At the very least, we have the skeletal roadmap of what BOC theoretically would have had to work with, had they been greenlit for a KP season 2.

A short summary of KimChay in the first novel:

During Porchay’s special chapter, Chay secretly follows Porsche to the Theerapanyakul mansion. When he’s at the gates, he makes a show of bravado of justifying why Porsche shouldn’t work there anymore, until Korn sees him. Korn tries to calm Chay down, but to no avail, until Kim pulls up in another car. It’s at this point that Chay mentions being familiar with Kim, and that they have some bad history that was never resolved. Kim corners Chay against the wall like the Theerapanyakul hubby that he is, until Chay kicks him in the nuts for acting all intimidating. 🤣 The special chapter ends with Chay getting dragged away from the compound, unbeknownst to Porsche. Later, Chay moves into the compound around the time Porsche and Kinn are kidnapped. Before facing the kidnappers, Kinn had told Chay to get ahold of Pete and ask for help, hence why Chay is brought to the compound in the first place. Presumably, this would also be around the same time he gets reacquainted with Kim (and most probably makes up with him). During the kidnap scene, Kinn tells Chay to call Pete and ask for back up. The next time we see Chay, he's visiting Porsche in the hospital, and Kim volunteers to take him home (as in, back to the Theerapanyakul mansion); it's implied that they've been spending quite a bit of time together, if Porsche's comments about it throughout the rest of the novel aren't indication enough. The rest of the story has them appearing here and there, mostly when Chay is complaining about the prospects of Kim cheating and/or no longer being in love with him. Lol There are some especially important moments between Chay and Porsche when they talk about their circumstances, but I don't want to spoil that scene in this rant too much.

In the show however, Chay's moving into the Theerapanyakul household is delayed later in the show's adaptation of the events, and he doesn't move in until the incident with his own kidnapping. By the end of the show, he's seen to be firmly ensconced in the Theerapanyakul compound, as we see in his last two scenes.

Focusing on Porchay's special chapter and his mention of the "bad history" between him and Kim in the novel, I'd always wondered if BOC had taken that line from the book and just ran with it, yknow? It would make sense (to me personally, at least), since Kimchay's story is different in the novel when compared to the show.

Although their stories are different, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they contradict each other. And with the first official art of the KimChay novel having been released, it’s clear now that DAEMI/Tiara_ME intend to incorporate the show’s KimChay story into their own (to what extent, who knows).

Having said this, let’s get back on topic: the likelihood of Kim moving back into the mansion had KP been greenlit for a season 2.

For a little bit of cultural context, I'll bring up three points (very generalized, mind you).

In Asia, the idea of children moving out once they’re 18 (or older, depending on the country’s age of consent laws) is very much a western concept. Most children in Asia don’t leave their family homes until they’re married, and even then, they sometimes still opt to live with their parents along with their spouse, so they can save money to buy their own in the meantime. In fact, a lot of Asian households can also have multiple generations living under one roof (I myself am also in this situation, at least part of the time when I go home overseas). That's not to say that children moving out early, or running away, or getting kicked out from home is unheard of, but for the most part, it's a rarer scenario compared to how normalized it is in the US.

For all that Kim goes behind Korn’s back, outwardly and at least towards his two elder brothers, Kim is a good son, in so far at least that he’s willing to go undercover in order to figure out the stink of what his family is connected to. He is loyal to his family—he’s protective over Kinn, and he’s gentle in how he interacts with Tankhun. Despite having moved out, the bored ease with which he strides into the compound shows that he visits often enough that it’s not an uncommon occurrence; the deference the bodyguards show him also supports this theory.

And finally, perhaps the strongest clue: when Chan tells him that Korn wants to see him at the end of ep 13, Kim cannot bring it in himself to disobey his father, no matter his own desire to go after the Kittisawasds. No matter what suspicions Kim may have of his father, at the end of the day, as my previous point—he is a good son, a filial one (all of them are, tbh). He doesn't outwardly show disagreements against Korn, and even during that tense meeting between them in ep 5, Kim shows some level of affection by bringing his father food. And yes, while I do agree that a lot of his smiles and behavior towards Korn is just for show, it doesn't change the fact that Kim doesn't want to disrupt the family harmony amongst them. At the very least—he actively chooses not to be the cause of that disruption.

So, with this context in mind, I’m of the opinion that Kim is more likely to move back into the compound, rather than continue to keep away. In fact, in the book, this is one of the big themes with Kim and Porchay: it’s due to Chay’s presence at the Theerapanyakul household that Tankhun comments about how Kim is often at home now.

It's Chay's presence in the mansion that brings Kim home.

The way I see it, Kim moved out because he had the luxury to do so. And I don’t mean this in the way that he’s able to discard his family obligations and pursue his own dreams, not at all.

I mean it in the most basic sense: Kim—or rather, the Theerapanyakuls—have the financial luxury to allow for Kim to move away. For any person that age, who wouldn’t choose to have their own space if they could honestly afford to do so? Besides that, it’s not out of the realm of possibility that the apartment complex Kim lives in is owned by their family, hahaha! But I digress!

Getting back on point: Kim is most likely to move back in, because he now has a reason to do so, that being Chay.

I've always been of the belief that throughout this couple's story in the show and all the way from the beginning, it was always Chay unknowingly stepping into Kim’s world of the mafia and becoming further involved, not just because of his brother, but more because of Kim’s growing feelings for him.

And then by the end of the show, how it makes for a resounding statement that it’s Kim who reaches out to Chay: he’s now the one stepping into Chay’s world—which just happens to be the world of the mafia.

In that sense, it’s Chay’s presence that ultimately brings/keeps Kim home, literally and figuratively. The way I see it, the fact that it's Chay's singular, enduring presence that would be the one to inspire Kim to come home is what makes their love story a powerful one, and one that can measure up equally to the other two.

#kimchay #kinnporsche the series #kpts meta #Ren is yapping again lol

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syddsatyrn · 8 months

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Chapter 1 ⛤ Chapter 2 ⛤ Chapter 3 ⛤ Chapter 4 ⛤ Chapter 5 Masterlist

⛤Pairing: - Eddie Munson x FemReader

⛤Warnings: Swearing, drinking / smoking, fluff, friends to lovers. This is probably gonna end in smut.

⛤Words: 1.4k

⛤Song: "Photograph" By Def Leppard

⛤Summary: Moving away from Hawkins was the biggest mistake of your life. You left your best friends and forgot to stay in touch. Years later, you decide to hit up your good friend Steve. Its time to make a plan and make amends. The one thing you didn't expect was feelings to resurface when you saw your old highschool crush.

⛤Notes: This series is 18+ Minors scram. Special thanks to @hellfiremunsonn, I am a wreck without her, lol. This chapter is a little short. We are doing a slow burn, ladies , gentleman and nonbinary friends. Next Chapter will have Eddie in it I promise! Please check out Chapter one before you start this one. Thank you!

⛤Chapter 2: Pulling Strings You walk into work early and meet up with your manager. You explain that you need a week off to visit family in Hawkins. They calculate your vacation time and approve it, it's official! In two weeks you're going back to your childhood hometown. You asked a couple of coworkers to help cover your shift and got lucky, they both agreed they could use the extra hours. It was the longest two weeks that you've ever experienced. You passed the time with some shopping for your trip. You made sure to get all the essentials, and a couple of new cute outfits to bring too. You visited your mom and told her all about your plans, she's excited for you! She even sent you off with a little extra money, just in case.

Everything appears to be falling into place. The anticipation is killing you. But you start to find yourself thinking about Eddie quite often. You thought about his dark brown eyes, and how shockingly cute he was when he smiled. Back when things got difficult with your family, Eddie was always down for some late-night talks, listening to you vent for hours sometimes.

The night before you left, you spent time packing, calling Steve, and confirming some minor details. You took a shower before bed and watched some late night TV. When you finally decide to turn in, you crawl under the comforter and try your best to get some rest. Even if you still feel a huge pit in your stomach.

—--------------

You're beginning to think you should have packed lighter as you hauled your bags down to the car. You load everything into the trunk and settle into the driver's seat. You take a deep breath and start the car, the engine roars and you hit the gas. There's no next time, it's now or never. Time to take a leap of faith and do your best to be a better friend. You might not get another chance. The sun shines through your windshield as you turn the bend, the fresh Indiana air is crisp and clean. As you see the “Welcome to Hawkins” sign, your body starts to tense up. You try to recall the directions Steve gave you in the correct order. You turned onto main street and kept on until you saw the blue apartments named “Hawkin’s Heights”. You pulled into the parking lot and backed into a parking space carefully and cut the engine.

It took you what felt like forever to get out of the car. But after a few deep breaths and some time to mentally hype yourself up, you are ready. You walk upstairs and follow the numbers until you find apartment 106. You knock on the door and it instantly opens.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you made it!” Steve looks completely thrilled to see you. He scoops you up into a hug and pulls you inside the apartment, shutting the door behind you.

“Hi Stevie” You laughed “It’s so nice to see you!” Steve finally lets go and you recognize the other familiar face in the room. It was none other than Dustin Henderson.

“Oh my god, Dustin?! You’re like…all grown up!” You can't believe how mature he looks now. You give him a massive hug, he's taller than you now. Time sure does fly, kids sure do grow up fast. The boys head downstairs to help you lug your bags inside, thank goodness you didn't have to do that alone.

Once you get inside you notice the boys are taking your stuff down the hall, and you follow them. Once you walk through the threshold you immediately know whose room this is.

“You’ll be staying in Eddie's room. He comes back from tour in two days so you’ll see him then. I’m sure he won’t mind at all.” Steve explains so casually like it's no big deal.

“Oh god, I couldn’t just take his room. I would feel so bad. What if I take the couch?” You ask with a nervous laugh.

“Can’t, Dustin is on the couch. His mom went on this singles cruise. Even now I’m still somehow babysitting.” Steve laughs and Dustin scoffs at him. Your face turns a little red at the thought of sleeping in your high school crush’s bed.

“Don't listen to him, Y/N, my mom is just paranoid.” Dustin retorts as he follows Steve to the kitchen.

They both leave you to order some pizza and give you time to settle in. The room is truthfully very clean, there are Metal posters all over the walls, along with flyers from shows he’s played. He has some Christmas lights hanging for some ambiance. You take a seat on his queen-sized bed, it feels really comfy. The back comforter and black pillow cases were so him. There are guitars hanging on the wall, a couple of guitar stands, and amps off to the side.

I guess it can't be helped. You'll have to deal with it for now, maybe you can crash at Robin’s later. You shut the door and find yourself some lounge clothes to wear, settling on a pair of shorts and a large Metallica t-shirt. After brushing out your hair and setting out some clothes for tomorrow, you decide to join the boys in the kitchen.

“We got two large pepperoni pizzas,” Dustin announces, Steve opens two beers and offers you one. You gladly take it and grin as you see the label.

“Did you buy my favorite beer on purpose?” You ask, poking fun at how much of an accommodating host Steve can be. When the pizza arrives you all settle down in the living room and watch some late-night sitcom. Steve tells you all about the lengths he's gone to get everyone to gather here.

Nancy is coming to visit with Johnathan, they are staying with her parents. Robin has no idea you were here, Steve had to come up with some ridiculous excuse for her not to show up today. Eddie called to tell him when he would be returning in a couple of days and Steve had to play it cool like nothing was going on. He told them we were throwing a get-together at the Hideout but didn't mention you in the slightest.

“Wow…Look at you pulling all the strings.” You clapped softly and Steve took a little bow. You were truly impressed with his ability to put all of this together. “Thank you, Steve. This is so cool of you.”

“It was nothin’ really. You called and I had to make it happen.” He shrugs with a half smile. You hug your friend and decide to excuse yourself. You had a long drive and it was exhausting. You walk back to Eddie’s room to turn in for the night. When you look over at the nightstand you see a pack of cigarettes, half empty. Eddie used to bum you cigs when you hung out at his trailer. You flash back to the time your Dad was drunk and acting out, arguing with your mom. You ran off to Eddie’s place and your mom almost called the cops.

You grabbed one out of the pack and used the lighter next to the ashtray. You opened up a window and placed the cigarette between your lips and lit it. The taste was like shaking hands with an old friend. It was smooth and you almost feel bad for breaking your 3 year streak but also, one won't hurt…probably. That same nostalgic feeling you felt opening those boxes came flooding back in.

We were just teenagers, there were so many signs that he was head over heels for you but you were naive, oblivious, and it hurt you a little. Neither of you had the guts to say anything to each other. A regret that made you feel shameful to say the least. You’ve wondered if he still has feelings for you or is he off having the time of his life with his groupie fangirls?

When you try to define this feeling it's next to impossible, you feel a sense of anticipation. It's like you’re eager to relive some feelings, or longing for a simpler time. You take a few drags and try to wave the smoke and your insecurities out the window. You can't wait to see Robin tomorrow. It's time to get some sleep, you have a feeling you won't be getting much for the rest of the week.

You put out your cigarette and shut the window, turn out the light, and finally crawl under the covers. You have to admit, his bed smells really good, like fresh linen and men's cologne. It made you feel especially comfortable, and it didn't take long to ease into a deep slumber. You could get used to this kind of contentment.

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greenerteacups · 1 month

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Hey GT, glad to see you're back! I'm still halfway thru Lionheart (just read the world cup chapter, what a delight) and your notes got me wondering.

I'm sure you've probably answered this before but how do you manage to make the world feel so rich? I'm not that into the fandom so I don't know If there are some things fanon agreed upon or if it is your own musings about the magic world. Like Draco explaining to Hermione about portkeys or how many languages Krum speaks.

How do you decide what's important enough to get a mention? Where do you go when you need answers and Canon is not enough to provide it?

Thanks for the kind words, and for the question! It's a matter of personal taste, like anything. Some writers prefer an athletic, streamlined plot, with only as much worldbuilding as you absolutely need (how does Panem run a command economy of 4.5 million people primarily on fossil fuels when its coal district has a population of less than 10,000? fuck off! who cares! they're Y/A dystopias about a TV show where teens beat each other to death!). Some writers, on the other hand, won't bother to start the story until they know the pH of the soil in every region of the world they're writing about. I'm somewhere on the second half of the scale, in that I'll give details that aren't strictly necessary to the plot, just because I like to feel like I'm writing about a world where real, extraneous things can happen. Some details are foreshadowing; some details are Special Mouseketools that will Help Us Later; and sometimes, you just get to know a cool fact about portkeys.

I guess part of the fun of building out a world is getting to think about Everything, which is what my brain normally does. I have a pretty broad body of literature as a starting gate, so there's plenty of room to play. E.g., when I started writing Krum, I thought about how he's not super fluent in English in canon, and that naturally made me ask why, because he clearly has taken English, so either he only started lessons recently or it hasn't been a priority for him; and then I went "wait, what's his first language? Bulgarian, right? But Durmstrang isn't — hang on—" and then I pulled up an actual map of Europe, which led me to realize that he wouldn't likely be speaking his first language at Durmstrang, which means he already had to become bilingual just to start his wizarding education, and that explains part of why he doesn't have a ton of time/effort to spare for a third language, plus he'd probably have a translator available whenever he traveled with a team because he's a B.F.D. — etc., etc. And then you keep thinking about that until you remember that you're supposed to be writing a fic, and you scramble to get back to doing that. Only now, you have worldbuilding! Congrats.

To try for an even halfway useful answer to your question: worldbuilding becomes most important when it creates limitations, because limitations define your characters and give them chances to develop/reveal themselves. So the details of portkeys become important because they explain the limitations of magical travel, which is a big nebulous ??? in the original series, since the introduction of teleportation via Apparating means that all other forms of transportation become inefficient by comparison. It also means the limitations introduced by travel — that is, not all characters can be in all places at once — also go away, because anyone can be anywhere immediately. From a narrative perspective, this sucks massive horse ass. Hence: I dumped a shit ton of limitations on Apparation (i.e., (1) it requires a ton of energy, (2) it's really fucking hard, (3) it's really fucking dangerous, (4) it's more of both the farther away you're going, (5) it's more of both the more people you take with you, (6) you can't Apparate without a clear destination in mind which means (7) you need to have been there already, and so (8) some people prefer not to do it). Hence, I also put limitations on portkeys (i.e., they have to be set up well in advance, you need to identify out both destinations precisely beforehand, and the calculations are difficult to do). Those limitations, and the Watsonian explanations you create for them, are your worldbuilding. They're what make the world feel real, because they give it grit and character. They give you a more complete sense of what you can and cannot do.

The rest of it is taste and preference, really; it's what interests you, and what parts of the world you want to explore. That's going to be unique to every author, and that's the beauty of worldbuilding — it reflects the parts of the world that you like to think about.

#greenteacup asks

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multiwreckedmess · 1 year

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Kinktober Day 7

Prompt: Virginity Pairing: Stablehand!Minho(Lee Know) x fem!reader WC: 4.7k (ish) Summary: Laundry day, the watercooler of maidens, maids, and matrons. When faced with the harsh reality of what being a wife means, you ask your old friend Minho to help break you in a bit. A prequel my Two Princes series. You can read it without the context (as it is a prequel and thus before the events of that series) but it’s the same world. If you’ve read the series, it’s not SUPER tied or needed as context but it was a little thought i had when working on chapter 2 or 3 that I’d started to write at the same time.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Minho or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this.

Additional TW/CW Under the cut

TW/CW: Minho calls reader “little chick” and one “good girl”, unprotected penetration, bodily fluids, very VERY aggressively consent driven like tons of asking if everything is okay.

TBH after last week’s prompt i needed something fluffy. It’s hard for me to come up with TW/CW outside of “they fuck consensually and nicely and fuck stuff happens.” Minho is a little bit of a teasing jerk i guess but in the most fluffy careful way possible.

Pulling your skirts between your thighs you run from the kitchen, out alongside the fence of the small doctor’s garden, and onto the dirt road to the stables. Mind made up, you couldn’t slow yourself down now. You knew you only had precious few hours to catch him and daylight was dwindling. It wasn’t your fault, it was the matron’s who’d found your posture during the tea service “inadequate” and kept you late as punishment. Huffing and puffing the stables near, no man nor horse in sight. You pick up the pace as much as you can, knocking furiously at the side door. Sweat dripping and hairs all out of place, the matron would’ve scolded you for showing up to anyone’s door this way. In all honesty her scolding would’ve started much before then, if she’d found out just whose door you were pounding on. A man swings open the top half of the door, vest loose and sweat just beginning to soak through his white undershirt. He licks his lips and smiles. “Well, well, well. It’s been some time, little chick, since you last called.” “Minho, I need you to take me.” You don’t mince words with him. You know not to. His eyebrows shoot up, head shaking with confusion. The lower half of the door swings free, smacking loosely against your legs. “I’m concerned and intrigued,” he says, beckoning you in.

Earlier in the week you’d made up your mind. You needed to lose it. When the older women had already headed back with their linens already hung neatly, the younger had stayed chatting a while longer. It wasn’t known what exactly started the conversation but if you were a betting woman you’d assume it was the rumor of a woman’s pregnancy only lasting a total of 5 months. Betrothed to a wealthy baron of the town and assumed a virgin, she’d quickly inflated with child upon sealing their vows. You’d expected giggles of disapproval but instead saw quiet shrugs. “It’s like that sometimes,” one of the girls shrugs. “It’s probably best she went into that marriage knowing rather than it being her first.” “I’d rather have it done by someone handsome and rugged and marry well later. She got a good deal there. Risky but a deal,” another concurred. “Isn’t there value in learning together?” Your voice quivers slightly as you try to speak up. The girls blink back at you, like you’re an alien. “Sure, but it’s a risk.” “It’s expected but, to be upfront with you, I don’t know that I’d endorse it. Most men can’t button their own breeches in the morning, you can’t expect them to know what to do as it comes to women’s ways.” You nod solemnly, hoping they didn’t press further into your history. Or what history you could claim. Mostly you’d learned from word of mouth or the occasional poorly discarded dirty pamphlet. Until that summer you’d assumed to most you were invisible, that was until your body grew into itself like a puppy growing into it’s ears. Even then a couple quick pecks behind an arras was nothing to boast about.

Sliding the lock behind you, Minho pulls himself up on a gate, stretching his arms long to pull down the ladder to the loft. It had been ages since you’d last been in a place with him alone. Growing up under the watchful eyes of the castle as children inside the walls you’d been able to run freely around with him, a plethora of adults there to intervene if the two of you got into trouble. One to stick more to the shadows, he always pulled you into the sunlight. Coaxing you into his outdoor adventures, finding creatures to befriend and forging for snacks. The matron hated this of course, but you were a child before you were a girl. Somewhere along the line it shifted, becoming a girl first and foremost. Minho changed too. Hopping down and landing softly in a cloud of dirt, he brushes himself off. “Ladies first, little chick.” Hands on the ladder you begin to pull yourself up. Feet barely past the second wrung, Minho comes in behind you, bracing the sides of the ladder, face close to your lower back. “Won’t you be able to see up my skirt that way?” You turn and ask, eyes narrowed. “Oh now you want to talk about modesty? When you were just at my gate shouting about bedding down.” Everything is phrased as a joke but his expression is serious. It’s hard to tell if you should laugh or not. “If I don’t stabilize the ladder and you tumble ass over kettle the matron will have much more of me than my head so I suggest you scurry on up, for the both of our sakes.” He smiles, patting your butt lightly.

The loft has a low ceiling but wide footprint. It’s dimly lit but charming nevertheless. Minho has all he needs. A wash basin, chest of drawers, full length mirror, a bedside table with a small lamp. The bed is paradoxically huge and luxurious, albeit on the ground, but the biggest you’d seen outside of the guest’s quarters. “I don’t have a place to sit but-” Minho’s head pokes over the edge of the flooring as you gasp. “The bed is comfortable. I caught it as they were turning over a room and smuggled it up here myself. Almost passed out trying to pull it up.” You flop dramatically down, the boning in your bodice restricting your waist movement, freezing you in perfect vertical lines rather than letting your body naturally curve. Sitting bolt upright your lungs feel like they are in your throat, your feet hang off the side of the bed to keep your dirt laden shoes from the comforter. “It’s nice,” you bleat. “Soft.” Wordlessly Minho kneels by your feet, pulling the laces loose and slipping your feet free of their confines. He looks up at you and your heart skips, his hands are rough on your stockings but somehow you don’t really mind. His expression quickly snaps to a devilish grin as he smacks your feet onto the mattress. “You can get comfortable then, little chick. Am I a stranger?” He stands quickly and moves to the washbasin, scrubbing the days work from his hands. “You aren’t a stranger but,” you sigh deeply or as deeply as the bodice allows. “It’s been-” “We’ve changed,” he nods, shuffling off his shoes and collapsing back into the other side of the bed. “Physically I mean. But what’s this about me ‘taking’ you? What has you all in a tizzy, little chick? Showing up at the stables asking for-” You smack his arm and take as deep a breath as you can manage, “I heard a rumor,” you trail off. “About me? Or you? Or someone else?” He barrages you for details. “Let me get to it Minho! So bothersome, gosh.” You wince as you try to breathe again, leaning back to your elbows to give your organs more room to shift and relieve your lungs. His hand comes to your shoulder and lightly presses you forward. “It’s tight right? Let me-” he pulls at the knot at the base of your spine, pulling each cross at your back loose. “Oh AH,” you moan and slump forward as the bodice releases. “The matron-” “That bitch,” he whispers under his breath, tickling your shoulder, just loud enough that you can hear it. You giggle and lean back again. “Yeah, the matron said that if I laced it tighter I wouldn’t have such problems with my posture and took the opportunity to correct the matter.” “So, back to the rumor you heard. Me, you, someone else? Why are you in my loft, in my bed, and allowing me to undress you?” You roll your eyes at the ceiling. “Fine,” you huff, “First, the rumor was about this baron’s wife who spent only a few months pregnant before birthing the healthiest baby boy the midwife had ever seen. We got to talking and, well, there was a debate.” Minho turns on his side, leaning over you slightly, just in your peripheral vision. “A debate? About me?” “Not everything is about you, Minho, let me continue!” You spit back in frustration. “Anyway, the topic of trying the milk before buying the cow came up-” “Virgin 'til the wedding night or sneaking off into a hay bale. I see.” “Not a hay bale!” You smack his thigh lightly. “But yes, essentially. Should a woman be a little learned in the ways of the world or an innocent. The more the group talked about it the more I thought. Well it was a dumb thought. I worried,” you stutter, suddenly unable to get your thoughts out under his watchful gaze. “It’s nice to see you again.” “All this talk of bedding down and you thought of your long friend Minho,” a smile creeps across his face. “What a strange little chick you are.” “If you must know Minho, it wasn’t a fully innate thought of mine. Your name was mentioned. Positively.” He smiles softly and flops onto his back. Both of you staring at the ceiling in silence for a moment. “I suppose, I train people to ride horses…” he drifts off.

You thought laying in silence with a man might be awkward, especially after confessing your motives to him. With Minho it wasn’t. Ears full of the soft sounds of the horses heavy breaths below you instead of idle chatter. It was easy to imagine laying for hours letting your mind wander the landscape of sounds. “So, little chick, truthfully, which did you want to investigate more? My aptitude or..” “My problem. Or, it’s not a problem but, my…lack of experience. I trust you more than any man and to hear others tell it, my trust in this matter wouldn’t be misplaced.” “Ah,” his small noise of acknowledgement is all you get from him. Your stomach twists and plummets to rock bottom. Some part of your imagination expected him to leap on top of you and rip your clothes off. His chill attitude is hard to read, you don’t even know if he’s agreeable to it. “I was hoping maybe you’d…if today would be okay?” You ask and want to die. “Right, yeah,” he turns over again to loom at your side. “I will absolutely comply with your request but I need you to be honest with me. Are you completely untouched? Truly and totally?” You nod, ears burning, you turn away from him to hide the embarrassed expression you wore. “That’s the…I don’t even know where to start. I wouldn’t know where to start.” His calloused fingers trace your forearm, small goosebumps prickling in his wake. “Well, we can start slow. You will tell me what you like, what you don’t, where to stop and I, in turn, will make it well worth both our time.” “Really?” You spin around to face him, excited, mood totally lifted. He’s smirking to himself, an unrecognizable glimmer in his eye. Your heart beats out of your chest, tongue tied into knots. He’d always been Minho, your Minho. You’d seen him up close plenty of times but you’d never really looked at him like this. Strong nose, strong cheekbones, strong brow, strong jaw, everything about him was quietly strong. Even the line of his muscles below his shirt were long and lean, perfect for horseriding. “Do you want me to undress you then? Or will you do it yourself? Some like the power of choosing what to reveal, others prefer the careful caress of another’s hands. You could start yourself and have me assist you or…” “You. You please.” You sit up again, shuffling your back to him, offering your laces. Every move he makes is languid, like moving through thick molasses. The string pops through the eyelets until the contraption falls forward, freeing you. He waits, gaging your reaction with a watchful eye. You’re unflinching, steadfast in your resolve. “Some men, are not as gentle as me. Trying to keep your composure, your heart leaps to your throat. “Oh, I-” you stutter, unsure of the response to give. “I’m known on occasion to not be so gentle too. If you would like, I can be with you too.” His tone is smooth as his hand travels down the soft cotton of your chamise. You’d never imagined how good a simple touch could feel, as though every nerve along your spine was sparking asynchronously, like a fire spitting tiny flames. “Oh err, I suppose just, this? This is good, yeah.” You lean back into his palm, eyes closing. Minho watches your face relax. Jaw unclenching and brow melting as he reaches the base of your spine, briefly stiffening as he loses contact to start back at the nape of your neck again. “I’m going to take off your skirts and stockings now, sweetheart.” He directs you, hands working at the knots that hold your skirt, waistbands loosening and falling around your hips. “I’ll need your help the rest of the way.” Sliding back into the sheets, your hold your hips up to let him drag the skirts off in one bunch. “I’ve heard you use this tone before. With the horses,” you laugh nervously. “Humans and horses aren’t so different,” he mutters under his breath, mildly annoyed with the perceived slight. “Both require respect to be ridden well. Respect, confidence, and trust. Otherwise one might hurt the other.” His words are reverent as he looks down at you. The orange hue of the late afternoon sun warms his skin, lips open ever so slightly. You realize his hand his placed carefully on your cotton covered bent knee. With so much as a flick of his wrist he could reveal you, the thought of which has your entire system vibrating on edge. Instead he maintains eye contact as his palm presses the fabric to you, slowly but surely guiding it down your thighs. It’s enough to have your body on fire, chest heavy as you remember to breathe. The way you lean into Minho’s touch has him more turned on than he cares to admit. This entire experience was about you. It was not about him. It was a favor to you, not something for him to take advantage of. Yet he couldn’t help the pit of guilt twisting his stomach, almost relishing in the feeling. Your knees knock together cutely as the last bit of slip falls to your hips, leaving only your stockings for warmth. Your eyes could bore holes in him the way they are fixed on his lips. With a chuckle his hands run the length of your thighs, parting them and stripping back the last vestiges of fabrics on your lower half. “You want me to kiss you? I can kiss you.” “Yes!” You practically yelp, tingling turning to burning turning into bursting in your gut. The press of his lips to your inner thigh is like salve, sensation just as intense as your back arches up and away from the mattress. “I like that. I like it a lot,” you pant as he hovers, waiting for you. “Have you ever touched yourself?” His eyes flick to your pussy, legs akimbo and fully exposed. You start to shake your head no and catch yourself, the shock of sudden embarrassment sending jets of cold down your spine. Could he tell? Could a man tell? “Not touched but I found this…lewd pamphlet in the trash…” you begin, forcing yourself to focus as his lips slowly travel towards your sex. Minho hums to indicate he’s still listening as he teases you. “...so I read that pamphlet and my stomach felt funny and the only thing that made it feel better was sliding my pillow between my thighs-” A millimeter away from kissing your cunt he stops abruptly to look up at you with a grin. “Naughty, naughty, sneaking away with crass material to waste yourself on a pillow,” he laughs. “So never in yourself? Just riding your pillow.” He can barely contain his excitement, hand cupping you, middle and ring finger slowly stroking around your slit. Slowly he works his middle finger into your hole, tighter and wetter than he’d thought it could be. His digit moves with your hard breaths, stroking just barely inside of you. “I’m going to stretch you out a bit. How does this feel?” “Like you’re petting my belly button from the inside,” you squirm, every other word catching for a second in your throat. A second finger slips in alongside the first, eased by the gathering wetness. The pressure is strange at first, not painful but not comfortable. Not until Minho presses the heel of his palm to your throbbing mound, grinding it down as your eyelids flutter in delight. “You can moan if you want, if it feels good.” Your mouth hangs dumbly, hips naturally working with his hand. “I don’t know how!” You pant as your ride his hand. “You don’t?” Minho’s voice lilts with false sympathy. “You seem to be doing just fine with this. Just relax, no one can hear you out here. No one but me.” Eyes closed you don’t even realize you’re moving in sync with him, face scrunching cutely. You follow him blindly, chasing an unknown feeling on a strange path. Suddenly your stomach swoops, eyes flying open with a gasp as your entire body tingles warmly. Legs snapping shut on his body, you wriggle away from the stimulation. “I think I died. I think I’m going to pass out. What was that,” you ask. Your vision feels slow, body foggy, heart beating both too fast and too slow. “Well the French call it the little death, if that helps.” Minho smiles and withdraws his glistening hand, holding in the light like a trophy. “Most oafs can’t do that, you know, that’s why all your little friends can’t keep quiet about me. They just go about blinding, inserting themselves and pounding away. Idiots. Animals.”

Minho turns completely away for the first time since you got into his bed. Tugging the white shirt free, his back looks strong, stronger than you remember it being. Not that you thought about it much back then, him or his back. But now it was the only thing on your mind. Pulling off his shirt his thumbs hook into the top of his drawers, pausing. “You’ve…seen a man before right,” he asks over his shoulder. “You know what a cock looks like.” You can’t help the small nervous giggle that passes your lips. “I’ve seen one, yeah,” you reply with your stomach all aflutter. You’d seen them in passing or in paintings but not so closely. It feels surreal to think on the other side of him is that sort of thing. “You know you should never giggle at a man in such a precarious position,” he scolds. “Now do you want to do it or shall I? We can stop now if you’re too nervous.” Minho really hopes you aren’t too nervous. With the time and effort he spent prepping you he’d inadvertently wound himself up as well, teetering on the edge of discomfort as his swollen cock pulses in its confines. God, the sheer thought you might take him up on his offer to stop here has his stomach swooping, playful expression turned serious. Sucking in your breath and closing your eyes, “you. You do it. And tell me when. And then I’ll look.” Nose scrunched and adorable, he smiles again. “Okay little chick, we’ll do it your way then. I’m going to unbutton my breeches, slide them off, and then you can open your eyes, or tell me to sod it and put everything back on.” Slowly his fingers slip the buttons through their eyelets, hissing with relief as his shaft springs free. He’s more naked than you now, although not by much, your chest still covered by your chamise. Fighting a smile as he looks at your both eager and apprehensive expression he announces his state of dress to you. Cracking an eye open you see it, briefly and blurry. Instinct snaps you eyelid closed with a jump. Sheer curiosity gets the better of you quickly, screwing your courage up to open both of your eyes on your next exhale. “Oh wow,” you inhale sharply, eyebrows lifting with your lids. A few stiff blinks have your eyes cleared “It’s…you’re…” you can’t find the right words. He’s not like the paintings of men or sculptures or those you’d seen in passing, all of which had them loosely hanging, passive between their thighs. This, this is different. Veiny, thick, truly a muscle pointing proudly up and out from his stomach. The boost to his ego is unimaginable as you stare agog. Even knowing it was your first didn’t seem to fight back his swelling pride. “Want to touch it?” It twitches as he talks. You hadn’t even realized you’d slowly raised forward from the sheets to look closer at it. Taking your hand in his he guides you to it until you’re naturally curling your fingers, around it. It’s softer than you thought it could be, velveteen and warm. The veins and muscle making ridges and grooves all down the shaft you stroke it slowly, face full of wonderment. Minho sighs deeply, shuddering. Though you don’t know the details of a successful handjob your eager curiosity makes up for it. A shiny bead gathers just on the slit, your thumb rubbing over it and smearing the substance over the head.

“As lovely as your hand is, I think we have other matters to attend to,” Minho says and pushes you back to the mattress. “You’re lucky I have some oil for just this sort of occasion.” He produces a small bottle from the opposite side of his bed, uncorking it and dribbling a small amount along his length. “You’re still sure?” He checks again, pumping his fist along his shaft to coat himself. “You’ve done so well today, there’s no shame in it. Ever. Even when it’s not with me.” “Minho please, I’m not so little anymore. I’m not a child. It’s my decision. I want you. I want you to fuck me. I want you to be my first. I trust you. Can you just…do it already?” He half laughs, more huffs at your frustrated outburst. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought you were.” “Then WHY?” “You’re really cute when you’re frustrated with me,” his smirk sends your heart flutter as he closes in on you. He hoists your hips with one arm and places a pillow beneath your hips, the display of raw strength sending the pack of butterflies from your heart into your sex. The blunt pressure of his cock, poised at your entrance, has your toes wriggling. Your expression opens into something between ecstasy and agony as his hips press forward. A half caught grunt escapes your throat from someone deep in your gut. The stretch isn’t the most painful, it just feels so foreign it catches you off guard. Suddenly acutely aware of how little space there is between organs there’s still a dull ache as your walls adjust. “Hu-hurts a bit.” Your knees catch his hips to keep him from going any deeper. “Let me distract you.” He starts pulling up your chamise, yanking it over your head with an urgency not yet seen from him. You don’t think your breasts are anything special to look at, especially splayed akimbo as they are. Yet Minho’s eyes say otherwise. Minho’s mouth says otherwise, attaching to your neck, mouthing away at your soft skin. Your body reacts autonomously, hips rolling back and forth on his half speared cock. Nipples pebbled, his tongue lathes over one, rolling the other between his fingers. “Oh, oh, ohhhh lord,” you gasp and moan. “It’s good oh fuck Minho, it’s good.” Grin grazing your oversensitive nipple he pushes his hips the final length in and stills, trying to keep himself from cumming immediately inside of you. Hot, tight, wet, he’s almost delirious with need as he hears your punched out groan. Releasing your tit with a pop he leans back to enjoy his handiwork. Impaled, your hair is wild on the pillow, chest rising and falling as you fuck yourself helplessly on his stiffened member. “It’s like you were made to take cock, you’ve already got the hang of it.” “Feels good,” are the only words you can blubber out dumbly in response. Your half hearted excuse. “More, need more.” “One man can’t exactly give that,” he chuckles. “You’re squeezing the sin from me, you know.” He groans as your walls flutter around him in a weak orgasm. He thrusts a couple times into you, noting how you meet each one, pelvis bouncing him deeper. As much as he loves when your chests touch, the intimacy of looking in your eyes, you asked for more. Taking what’s left of his strength he pulls from you, a look of shock and sadness crossing your face for a second.

“You’re going to ride me now, since you wanted more.” He says laying on his back. “Climb up buttercup, thighs on either side” he slaps his own thighs to indicate where he wants you. “Now what you’re going to do is take my shaft and slowly sink yourself on it.” He’s sticky with release but you oblige, eyelids fluttering as you sink down, swiveling and stirring him with your hips. Minho fights to keep his eyes open and watchful as a wave of ecstasy washes over him. “Now bounce on it, doesn’t need to be fast just the one pace.” His hands at your waist help manuver you, holding just enough to help keep the rhythm. And what a delicious rhythm, tits bouncing dramatically with each smack of your ass to his pelvis. Curses you’ve never heard nor had yet been invented flow from his mouth as you hands start to explore your body. You touch the source of the white hot heat, clit engorged and sensitive. Slowly you circle it in time with your bounces, as though winding a music box. “It’s happening again!” You whine and buck. “Minho, Minho, Minho, it’s happening!” Your bouncing stops, hips frantically grinding back and forth on him, hand trapped between you. Moaning and groaning your instinct takes over, working the man below you like an object. “That’s it, cum. Let it happen. Let it go. Cum on my cock like a good girl.” Its like he said the magic words, a floodgate opening as your walls flutter and bare down on him. He helps you along, holding you in place and fucking up into you through your climax, barely able to pull you off of him in time to spill his seed on his own soft tummy. It’s not a second too soon as you can hear the dinner chimes in the distance, the first reminder that you are being watched. “Damn it,” he says through clenched panting. “The matron-” “That bitch.”

A bit bedraggled you dash back up the dirt path as the third dinner bell rings, the last of the series, marking you officially late. Other than the dull ache of your cunt you feel no materially different. Still you wish you could’ve stayed in the loft for ages. Your thoughts cloud your once empty skull with anxieties. You really wish you could’ve stayed.

The light from a guest room shines down as you trot past the small kitchen garden. A man sitting by the window watches you, blonde hair haloed by the light. There’s something enchanting and honest about your disheveled state. Truthful to humanity. He had to see it closer. He had to be the cause of it. Taking out a pad of scratch paper he sketches quickly as he can, unprepared to attempt to capture your brand of beauty in quill and ink. He keeps the accompanying memo short; “a birthday idea.”

If you’re interested and HAVEN’T read Two Princes, it is linked in my masterlist. It’s FAR spicier so heed those warnings.

I felt a little weeeee bit rushed on this one but it was already so long, I might redo, I might not. IDK.

#lee minho smut #minho smut #lee know smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz kinktober #stray kids kinktober #kpop kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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chrollosbm · 10 months

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Sunflower Fields: a Choso Love Story Chapter 5

You're broken from a past relationship, thinking you only deserve the worst. Choso comes along, making you realize you deserve the world and more. Will your ex-boyfriend let you go without a fight? (Choso x black!reader, yandere Choso)

art cr: einruji__ on x

pls support me on ao3, it would mean the world to me

previous chapters

It had been a week since your first date with Choso and you were still over the moon, thinking about what an amazing time you had in his company. The entire time, even after he drove you home and dropped you off at your doorstep with another kiss, he had you smiling from ear to ear. It sincerely was the best date you had ever been on, so of course, when Choso told you (more like demanded) there was going to be another date a week later, you had absolutely no problem with complying. In fact, you were thrilled he planned another one so soon.

The two of you didn’t even leave the fair before he told you to be ready the following week at two PM, seeming too impatient to wait until he at least got you home. You weren’t complaining though, it felt great to be courted with such eagerness. It’s what you deserved after dealing with your ex and his lazy-ass date planning. Towards the end of your relationship, he stopped planning dates anyway. You cringed whenever you thought about the fact that you used to beg him to take you places, instead of just sitting in your apartment together, watching TV and fucking all day. Now, you didn’t mind doing just that sometimes, but it came to a point where it felt like he just didn’t care to go out and do things with you.

Choso had been texting you more, sending you both a goodnight and good morning text everyday now, with the occasional texts throughout the day to see what you were up to and inquire on how you were doing. Your face lit up with excitement every time you saw his name pop up on your screen, your heart skipping a beat in exhilaration. Starting something new with someone who actually seemed to put in the effort to take initiative felt incredible. It all felt so exciting and so natural at the same time.

You currently had no idea what you were doing today. Choso didn’t let you in on anything, as a matter of fact, the only thing he told you to do was to wear something cute and yellow. You didn’t mind that he didn’t tell you what you were doing, in fact you kind of loved it. You loved being surprised and considering your last date with Choso, you knew you were in for a good time. You trusted that he would plan something just as exciting as before.

Your heart raced with thrill each time you thought of the complex man who seemed to be giving you a stun as he opened up more. He was letting you in slowly, allowing you to access a hidden side of his personality, his competitive nature coming out and his love for games catching you by surprise. At the time you had no idea what to think of him, and it was something you didn’t expect. It made you feel amazing knowing that he was comfortable enough to show that side of himself to you. He also made you feel safe enough to share things with him, despite his intimidating persona. After learning he was secretly a big nerd, his hardened shell began cracking slowly, and you were happy to see his soft interior, even if it was only a fraction of his personality.

His request (demand) for you to wear yellow prompted you to wear a tight mustard yellow maxi dress that showed off your curves. The weather had been flipping from hot to cold every other week, and luckily the day of your date was supposed to be pretty warm. You loved how the dress’s snug material made your body look, how it clung to all your curves, specifically your ass. You knew it would probably drive Choso wild, which was the plan, anyway. You paired your outfit with a pair of white sandals and a small white shoulder bag as your accessory. You had on gold of course, and your knotless braids were left falling down your back, still looking fresh due to your efforts in taking proper care of it.

You heard a knock at your door and checked the time on your phone, seeing that Choso was on time once again. You appreciated his promptness, him clearing having respect for your time.

You practically skipped to your front door, excited to see the strange, yet exciting man on your doorstep. You opened the door and as expected, there he was. He was matching you, dressed in the same shade of yellow with medium wash jeans for his bottoms. His t-shirt was short sleeved, showcasing his tattooed sleeves and muscular arms. His hair was down today, falling just above his shoulders, and his diamond earrings were shining through his jet black hair.

You felt like you were going to pass out, your body felt hot all over and it felt like you were having a hot flash. Your stomach was twisting, the sight of him made you burn up like you had a fever and you wanted so badly to fan yourself, in fear of sweating your makeup off your face. You didn’t of course, that would be too weird.

He stood there with a comically large sunflower in his hand, staring at you as well, mouth slightly agape. His eyes scanned you up and down, having no shame at all and when his dark pools reached yours, there was nothing but desire in them, with yours surely matching his.

You started to feel self conscious, almost going to cover your body with your hands, afraid he would find a flaw, but you decided against it. Even if you weren’t as confident with Choso’s eyes raking over you (over and over again, at that,) you had to fake it until you made it.

As if he could read your mind, he looked back into your eyes and reassured you, making all your worries disappear. “You look fucking amazing.” The desire in his eyes didn’t go away as he continued, with a straight face, as serious as ever. “You’re glowing in this color, Sunflower.”

There goes that nickname again. Sunflower. It was growing on you.

You finally cleared your throat to speak, realizing you have yet to say a single word to him. “Thank you, Choso. You look really good too.” You told him, honestly. He looked fucking delectable. You wanted to take him inside, keep him all to yourself, and never let him leave.

Kidding.

Maybe.

You grabbed the flower from his hand and smelled it with a sigh, the scent fresh and earthy. You could get used to getting sunflowers from him every week, the plants were growing on you. Your flowers from the previous week were still thriving, as lively as ever.

“You alright?’ He asked, taking you in, with an eyebrow raise as your nose was still in the flower, your sniffles abusing the aroma of the plant. You snapped out of it and nodded, embarrassingly, so engrossed in thinking about flowers that you almost forgot Choso was there.

“You’re a strange one.” He said, giving you a small laugh and grabbed your hand with his soft one. You were the strange one? Yeah, sure.

You rolled your eyes playfully as he began dragging you out of your apartment with the flower still in your hand, careful not to pull you too hard, and waited for you to lock your front door. He led you to the passenger seat of his car and opened the door, waiting for you to take a seat. When you were sitting, he reached over to buckle your seatbelt for you and you felt your heart start to melt at the extremely sweet gesture. As he leaned over, you smelled his familiar aroma, laundry, mint, and that mystery cologne. You had to know what scent that was. You were going to make it a mission to find out. When you heard the click of the belt buckle, he came to face you with a smile on his face. His face was so close to yours that you could see the glow of his skin and the birthmark that stretched across his nose up close. It was so perfect, adding a unique element to his face that you’d never seen before. You gave him a big grin, which made his eyes soften at the sight of you.

He gave your cheek a small and sweet kiss, then lifted himself from you, shutting the door soon after. The feeling of his lips lingered on your skin and you never wanted it to go away. Your cheeks were hurting from how hard you were grinning, your cheekbones high with glee.

He hopped in the car soon after and looked at you with a close lipped smile on his face and excitement in his dark orbs. “You ready?” He asked.

“Yes.” You answered, nodding excitedly. “Can you tell me where we’re going now?” You asked, getting impatient. You liked surprises, but now you just wanted to know what you were doing, especially since he showed up at your door with yellow on, as well. There seemed to be a theme to today’s date, but it still gave you zero hints.

He began pulling out your driveway, arm on the back of your seat, a concentrated look on his face as he backed out of your driveway. You waited patiently on his answer, enjoying the view of his biceps flexing in your face while his other hand was on the steering wheel, thick, pale fingers and silver rings gripping lightly.

Your mind somehow drifted to a place you had thought of many nights before. These scenarios consisted of you sitting on Choso’s lap, hands gripped on his broad shoulders as he thrusted those thick digits inside of you with a vigor. His lips would be whispering filthy things in your ear, all while telling you how pretty you were, just as your legs twitched and you came on his-

“We’re going to a sunflower field.” He cut off your dirty thoughts with a smile and you were both grateful and disappointed. That was your favorite daydream these days, with you using your vibrator to bring you to an intense release at the thought of it. You needed to be in the present, though. Especially with the news he just let you in on.

Realization snapped onto your features and that grin you always wore around him returned. Enthusiasm filled your voice, and you didn't hold back. “Cho!” You all but shouted, causing him to jump slightly.

“What, baby? I’m right here, no need to yell.” He laughed and grabbed your hand, soon interlocking fingers with yours. Your cheeks warmed and you squeezed his hand tightly. His hand was soft, large, and warm. The cool rings on his fingers cooled your digits as you were gripping him.

“You’re taking me to a sunflower field?” You asked loudly and you knew you were being dramatic, but you didn’t care. It was such a pleasant shock.

“I am.” He answered, eyes remaining on the road, but you saw the smile on his face, anyway. His dark eyes were twinkling, giving you small looks every now and then, glad to have you so merry at what he planned for the both of you. He was surprising you again with how romantic and slightly cheesy he was.

You loved it.

He brought a single giant sunflower to your house, ordered you to wear yellow to match him, and is now taking you to a sunflower field. How corny.

You adored it.

“Wow…” You responded softer this time, deciding to tease him. “Who knew you were such a romantic?” You smirked and he turned his head to you briefly to give you a bewildered look.

“You just now realized that?” He asked, his cheeks reddening in the process and you narrowed your eyes at his sarcasm, not ignoring the way you obviously just made him blush. “Did winning all the stuffed animals currently renting out my backseat not already prove that?” His tone was playful and you saw a smirk tugging from the side of his lips. You turned to the backseat and saw he was indeed telling the truth. There were a plethora of stuffed animals in the backseat, all sat upright, with Choso Junior directly in the middle.

Oh, right.

The sunflower field was large and seemed never ending. The yellow flowers came in a variety of different sizes, with some reaching the height of Choso and some towering over him. The two of you laughed when he stood head to head with some of the large plants, being surprised at the heights of them all. You never knew they could grow that large to begin with, so seeing how some of them were reaching the heights of ten feet tall, astonished you.

The air smelled crisp and fresh, the plants creating a slightly fragrant aroma around you. The sun was shining down on the blossoming plants, making the view absolutely beautiful. The dirt paths were being lit with its shine, creating a trail of yellow and orange as the two of you walked hand in hand, taking everything in.

Your excitement never faltered as the two of you walked through the field of never-ending sunflowers. It seemed to go on for miles, with you never getting tired. Your hand held his the entire time, his large, warm palm squeezing yours every time you were audibly excited, and when you looked at him, he would have a smile of adoration on his face. It was hard to not notice the way he was looking at you, even when you were dragging him behind you with intense glee. His patience never broke, even when you stopped to gaze at said plants for long periods of time. His eyes would read nothing but joy the entire time, seemingly happy watching you have a good time. He observed you as you stopped and smelled almost every flower in your path and convinced you to pick out as many as you wanted. Everything was being paid for by him, he assured you.

You were looking at a small bush of them in awe when he basically ordered you to get as many as your heart desired. You tried to interject, telling him he already showed up to your house with one, in which he responded, “I would single handedly pick every sunflower grown from this Earth if it meant I got to see you this happy.”

You swore your heart almost dropped out of your ass hearing that sentence fall from his lips. Tears almost welled in your eyes, but you held them back, afraid he would think you’re insane for crying over that. He was just so sweet, you couldn’t help but get emotional. You instead gave him a grateful smile, in which he pulled you towards him by your hand and gave you the quickest peck on the lips, leaving you with sorrow when he pulled away so soon.

You were having such a great time with him again, as expected. You wanted to punch your past self for ditching him at the club that night, but you also knew the time wasn’t right at that moment. You didn’t believe you would be here with Choso, with his jet black hair blowing in the wind, and his dark orbs brightening in the sun, turning to pools of chestnut instead of its usual almost pitch black color. They were warm and inviting, staring at you with admiration and warmth, rather than their usual intensity. You loved the intensity of his eyes, but this was a welcomed change, as well. His pale skin had a red tint to it and you weren't sure if it was from the sun, or something else. Either way, he was the most gorgeous man you had ever laid your eyes on.

The two of you spent more time at the sunflower field, holding hands and enjoying the view. At some point during the date, Choso began (and wouldn’t stop) taking pictures of you. Everytime you looked up, his cellphone camera was on you. You yelled at him playfully every time he didn’t tell you to pose, claiming he wasn’t getting your angles. He reassured you that every angle of yours was perfect, not forgetting to add a borderline hostile tone to his encouragement, which only made you laugh and feel that familiar twinge in your heart. Choso was definitely a romantic, but he couldn’t help but add a bit of aggression to the mix.

The sun was barely setting and you felt sadness creep up on you. You didn’t want the day to end already. The date today felt shorter and in all honesty, you wanted to spend more time with him. You knew you would see him again soon, the day seemed to go by too fast for your liking. The two of you just pulled in your driveway, and the Weeknd was playing in the background, again.

“Did you have fun?” He asked you, and you turned to look at him, trying to hide your disappointment.

You nodded your head quickly. “I did. Thank you so much for today.” You said in an excited way, maybe too excited. You might have given yourself away.

You seemed to be correct with the way Choso began observing your sudden change in behavior. He tilted his head and a look of concern covered his features. “What's wrong, sunflower? You can tell the truth, did you not have a good time?” He asked you, confused.

You quickly shook your head and reassured him. “God, no! That’s not it. I had an amazing time, it was one of the best times I’ve ever had, don’t worry.” You said way too quickly, but he seemed to understand with the way his face softened. “I’m just sad that the day is ending, is all.” You admitted, looking down at your nails, deciding to just tell the truth so Choso wouldn’t think he did something wrong.

As quickly as you put your head down, his hand was there, lifting your chin up to look at him. You weren’t sure what to expect, but you weren’t expecting him to have a smug smile on his face. You were about to make a smart comment, thinking he was laughing at your sudden neediness, but he pulled you closer, enveloping you in a kiss soon after.

Your full lips seemed to be a perfect match for his. His soft pillows moved against yours in a slow, intense, intoxicating way. His hand moved to your cheek as he deepened the kiss, slowly adding tongue into the equation. He still tasted like mint, and his scent soon entered your nose, making you sigh softly. Your cheeks were burning hot again and your stomach felt that same temperature and intensity, wanting to stay in this moment forever. His lips on yours, your heart filled with emotion, and your mind filled with delirium, lightheaded and lost in the kiss. Your tongues continued moving in sync, and it was suddenly burning up in his car, and you wanted nothing more than to take him into your apartment immediately. Your core was swirling with desire and your panties for sure had a wet spot in them at this point.

You pulled away and pressed your forehead against his, breath heavy and looked to see his dark pools were full of desire and anticipation. He was breathing in your face harshly as you were sure you were doing the same to him when you finally spoke.

“Did you want to come inside?” You asked and it seemed like relief washed over his face as he nodded urgently. Before you even had a chance to respond, his keys were out of the ignition and he was at the passenger side, opening your door and helping you out the car with urgency.

“Choso! My sunflowers!” You pouted as he quickly led you to your front door.

“Fuck the flowers.” He said darkly, seduction laced in his voice. “I’m starving and I want to eat.” Your core burned with desire at his words and retrieved the apartment keys from your purse, unlocking your door with a purpose. You were glad you decided to wear panties today, or else you would be dripping onto your living room floor. Choso’s sudden demeanor change was both scaring you and turning you on.

As soon as you shut your apartment door, you were scooped into Choso’s arms bridal style, causing you to let out a surprised yelp. You looked up at him to already find him staring down at you with hunger in his dark orbs. “Where’s your bedroom?” He asked, but it somehow sounded like a command.

You quickly gave him directions and he seemed to have you there in a flash. The door opened with a small kick of his foot and Choso walked to the corner of the room to your made, queen sized bed, placing you gently in the middle. He was soon on top of you, careful not to crush you with his entire weight, lips locking with yours quickly. You kissed him back with urgency, your tongue finding his easily. Your tongues moved in sync as he explored your mouth with ease.

His groin was on top of your clothed pussy and you felt him press against you. The sudden movement caused you to gasp, the small sensation making your thighs stick together, with both sweat and wetness from your core. Your heart was pounding in your ears and you wanted nothing more than to feel his bare cock on you, which was currently rock hard and poking you with each grind of his hips.

Your desire was becoming way too much and you felt like if you didn’t do something about it soon, you were going to lose your mind. The wetness in your underwear was becoming unbearable and you wanted nothing more but to be cleaned up. You needed to feel something, anything. The pit in your stomach was driving you absolutely feral.

You pulled away from the kiss and breathlessly called his name. “Cho…” You whined, as his lips moved down, finding your neck, giving you kisses and sucks that were causing goosebumps to form on your brown skin. You were filled with chills and you were hungry, craving him, needing him. He hummed against your neck as a response, his tongue currently working on the sweet spot of your neck as you tried to find the words you wanted to say. “I-I want you to touch me.” You stuttered, having trouble with words, the simple feel of his lips on was making you tongue tied.

“Touch you where, baby?” He asked as his fingers were rubbing small circles into your hips now, his lips getting dangerously low on your open chest. You felt his growing erection on your leg and it felt like a fucking brick at this point. You couldn’t wait until it was inside you, filling you up, hitting that special spot inside of you, over and over again.

Your back started to arch slightly. “Please…” You whined.

He sat up slightly, lips removing from your body, causing you to let out a disappointed sigh. His dark orbs, full of an intensity that almost gave you a fright, found yours, causing you to moan softly at the sight. So fucking sexy.

His fingers were still rubbing into your hips slowly, softly. “Tell me exactly what you want. I’ll give you anything you want in this world, baby. You just have to ask.” He encouraged you, that look remaining in his eyes, causing your breath to become more shallow. He was causing this reaction just from the way he was looking at you, his eyes burning fires into yours, and yet you couldn’t look away, feeling hypnotized by those dark, haunting orbs of his.

Desire swirled in your stomach and you reached up to touch his face. “Touch me everywhere. Baby, please.” You practically begged him. Your heart was racing at an impossible pace, just wanting him to touch you, to make you feel good, to make your daydream become a reality. You’d never needed something, someone, so badly.

He tilted his head, feigning confusion, a small smile on his lips, obviously in love with the sound of you pleading for him, desperation in your voice. “Everywhere?” His hands lowered ever so slightly, touching the fabric on top of your pussy and your breath hitched in your throat. He seemed to notice your reaction and quickly moved them back up to your hips causing you to let out a louder whine this time, tears welling in your eyes.

He was fucking teasing you. He knew how bad you wanted him, yet he was getting off on you whining and begging for him. It was pissing you off, but at the same time making you wetter by the second. It confused you.

“Choso, touch my fucking pussy!” You finally let out in frustration and he smirked, rubbing his thumbs into your waist harder, causing your face to scrunch in pleasure and pain.

“That’s not very nice now is it, baby?” His smirk left as soon as it came, and amusement was no longer in his voice. His eyes were now fixated on you and the sight of you begging from underneath him was making his cock impossibly hard. You saw it, it was fucking huge in his jeans. Tears began to spill out your eyes as he continued to pester you. Your desire was becoming too much and you needed to release. His lips slowly turned back into that smirk as soon as tears spilled from you, a lustful gaze in his dark eyes.

“Choso, please…” You basically sobbed. “I need you.” His eyes were low as he took you in, desperate for him, and finally seemed satisfied enough.

“Okay, baby, okay.” He said, nodding softly as his lips touched yours once more but he quickly pulled away, beginning to kiss away the salty tears from your face. He then slowly started to move down to your chest, eventually reaching your breasts. He pulled your dress down until it sat on your hips and his breath hitched as he stared at you in delight.

“So beautiful.” He said to you, eyes gluing to yours then quickly to your brown nipples, standing up straight and rock hard, waiting for attention. He wasted no time, not wanting to make you wait any longer.

You moaned softly as his warm tongue swirled around one of your swollen buds, and he played with the other with one of his hands. He squeezed your other nipple lightly with his fingers, causing you to let out a groan, a tingly feeling shooting up your body. It was both pleasurable and painful, the theme for the night, it seemed. Your nipples were extra sensitive, being that they were under the fabric of your dress for so long, aching for attention. With his free hand he slowly started to drag your dress down further, until it landed at your feet, which you quickly kicked off, along with your panties, all in one go. You weren’t waiting any fucking longer if you had a say in this. You needed him. You don’t remember the last time you longed for someone the way you longed for Choso’s touch.

His mouth switched nipples and he showed the same attention to your other breast but was quickly cut off as you were tugging at the bottom of his shirt and he took the hint to pull his shirt off with ease, his arms flexing unintentionally as he removed it. You were faced with a rock hard stomach that included a full six pack of abs and more tattoos on his chest. You were sure you were leaking at the sight of him right now. You thought he only had sleeves, but this man was tatted everywhere. His silver chain was shining as it laid on the tattooed skin of his chest, and you bit your bottom lip, absolutely pleased at the sight of him. He was truly your dream man, in terms of both looks and personality. You were so damn lucky.

It seemed like he was admiring you in the same way you were with him. His lips were parted as he scanned your body. “You are so fucking perfect.” He said in a serious tone, his eyes full of hunger meeting yours, which you were sure were full of the same intensity. You were starving for him, starving to feel him in any way possible. Your pussy was crying for attention at this point, just as you were not too long ago.

Your face got hot at the sudden praise he’d given you. It turned you on to another level hearing compliments and words of approval from Choso and he knew it. He’d known since the night at the carnival, you figured. Your eyes suddenly snapped down to where his cock was currently rock hard in his jeans. It looked like a damn rocket and you were worried about how that was going to fit inside of you if it looked like this while it was constricted.

He seemed to read your mind and reassured you. “You don’t have to worry about that right now. I’m going to focus on you today, baby.” You were slightly disappointed at those words, your face telling on you again. You were both excited and scared, but you wanted, no, needed, to feel his obviously large cock inside of you, filling you up whole.

You opened your mouth to protest but you were suddenly distracted by his lips reattaching to your body, slowly going south. His full, pillow soft lips were leaving wet kisses down your stomach with leisure and you whined in frustration. He was moving too slow, teasing you again. You sat up on your elbows to watch him with your breath caught in the back of your throat. Shivers ran down your entire body in anticipation as his lips eventually landed on top of your pussy, where he continued to leave wet kisses. You needed him lower. You needed to watch as he slurped you up, like he hadn’t had a meal in days. You wanted to see him drenched in your juices, it was a need. His lips traveled to your inner thighs and he began leaving small pecks on them, raising goosebumps all over your entire body.

He was so close to your dripping core, so, so close.

His warm breath was dangerously close to your opening and you let out another whine, lips twisted into a frown. His eyes shot up to yours and you could see him smirking at you. “You’re so fucking wet, baby. You smell so good too.” His breath was heating you up, the wetness of your pussy now becoming full blown drips down your leg. The moistness of his breath caused a shiver to go down your body, causing your hips to jolt slightly.

“Choso…” You whined his name again, tears brimming in your eyes, threatening to pour out, again. He was teasing the shit out of you, once more. And once again, it was driving you crazy and turning you on at the same time.

His eyes had a glimmer in them, clearly enjoying this. He seemed to have a sudden hunger in his eyes and needed no further encouragement. His tongue plunged into your pussy, licking up your slit slowly, finding your clit almost immediately. You moaned out in surprise and he moaned back, using your name with a curse, causing a vibration to come from his already vigorously working tongue. He was giving you what you wanted, finally, after making you cry and whimper, and it was oh so worth it.

His tongue seemed to never slow down, never giving you a break, working you like a vibrator never could and you were losing your fucking mind. Your back was arching and Choso held his hands tightly on your hips to keep in control. That pit in your stomach was becoming undone slowly, but surely, causing you to try to rock your lower body on his face, and he granted your wish, his hands loosening their grip on your waist. You gasped as you began rubbing your cunt on his face, and he was below you, kneeling like he was at an alter, worshiping your pussy and lapping you up greedily, as if he were malnourished.

Your breathing was getting ragged just as you felt a very thick finger at your entrance. He plunged it into you, the juices of your drenched pussy making sloshing noises as he started to move his finger in and out, incredibly slow, watching you from below, knowing he was the cause of your undoing, wanting to drag this out. It seemed to motivate him, causing him to add another and switch his movements to curve his digits deeply inside of you, prompting you to pant heavily as he stretched you out with ease. He was hitting your g-spot with expertise and you suddenly felt dizzy, breathless. Your mind was going blank as his tongue was still on your sensitive bud, moving dangerously fast, and his thick digits continued hitting that spot over and over again, faster this time.

His dark eyes met yours again and groaned into you at the sight of you falling apart because of him. Your eyes locked onto his, tears brimming yours once again and you knew your face was twisted as you let out a sob. You were so close to the finish line, feeling that knot in your stomach build and that lightheadedness returning. Your legs began locking up on his shoulders and you were grabbing onto his dark locks, needing something, anything to hold on to as you felt yourself nearing the end. He seemed to notice you were close and lifted his mouth from your cunt, causing you to let out a pant and a whine.

The bottom half of his face was covered in a mixture of your juices and his saliva, with some of it currently dripping down his chin. He was staring at you with a slightly opened mouth and dazed eyes, looking absolutely pussy drunk and you audibly moaned at the sight before you. You swore you were going to cum just by looking at him intoxicated off of you, face covered with your essence. Your blood was rushing to your head, giving you that familiar build up again as his fingers were still hitting that spot deep inside of you with a purpose, your soft walls tightening around his thick, long digits, getting you closer by the second.

“Need those pretty eyes on me while you cum. You hear me?” He demanded you with a tone of authority, his warm breath on your core, forcing you to do nothing but nod, unable to speak anyway, needing to cum right fucking now. You were feeling that tingle in your stomach, a warning that you didn’t have much longer until you released right onto his pretty face. His swollen, wet lips then reattached to your sensitive bundle of nerves, using sucking sensations this time and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your eyes remained on his as promised, and it all started to become too much.

His fingers were hitting your g-spot, your clit was being abused, and his dark eyes were burning fire into yours. Your thighs were tight around his head, but he didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to take it as encouragement as he continued attacking your pink button, wanting to complete his mission. Tears were now streaming down your face at a rapid pace as your breathing became ragged once again, finally seeing those stars you craved so badly. The feeling of relief washed over your entire body as you came all over his beautiful face with a rock of your hips, your body shaking and your moans loud enough to be heard on the street.

He lapped up your juices slowly, still looking into your eyes with seduction and you winced from the overstimulation. He eventually released you, seeing your body twitch, and kissed up your body slowly until he reached your lips. They landed on yours and you tasted yourself as his tongue entered your mouth.

“You did so good, baby.” He wiped your tears with his soft hands, then began giving you small pecks all over your face. You smiled widely at the praise. “My good girl…”

He then rolled off your body, but stayed close and pulled you towards him with ease. He then pulled the sheet on your bed up to cover the two of you (mostly you.) You rested your head on his chest and he kissed your forehead causing you to smile into his hard pecs. His free hand grabbed yours and you lifted your head to look at him.

The bottom half of his face was still wet with your juices and you smirked at the sight of him. You wiped your hand down his face softly to clean him up and his eyes looked at you with adoration. “Do you want me to help you?” You asked, looking down at his very obvious erection that showed through the sheet and he gave you a small smirk back.

He shook his head. “I told you, today was all about making you feel good.” He pulled your head down to his bare chest again, not explaining himself any further. You wrapped your leg around his waist, too exhausted to argue with him on the issue.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence and you felt his fingertips run up and down your back. He was so warm, your own personal heater. You fell into a deep slumber shortly after.

Chapter Six is Posted

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fictionallystable · 8 months

Text

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games)

Relationship: Phillip Graves (Call of Duty)/Reader

Characters: Reader, Phillip Graves (Call of Duty), Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags: Author Has Played Call of Duty, Childhood Friends, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, slight age gap, Civilian!Reader, Pre-Canon, Jealousy, Angst, Kissing, Time Skips, Slight OOC Graves, Brother's Best Friend.

Words: 1,348 | Chapters: 1/5

Summary:

Your older brother is best friends with Phillip Graves, and you always tagged along on their adventures. As a teen, you hid a fervent crush on Phillip, but it ends in painful heartbreak for you after one tumultuous summer. Many years later, you and Phillip are shocked to re-encounter one another, this time with your hearts fluttering again. But the heartache and broken trust of the past cloud your vision of the man standing in front of you.

A/N: this is a long time coming collab between me and @orphancains, and we finally posted the first chapter. stay tuned for later chapters. can't promise we'll be posting all the chapter each week but we'll try to get it out soon as possible. that being said, enjoy. the fic can also be found on AO3

tags will be updated!!

Chapter 1: The Pool

You ignored the bead sweat trickling down your temple from sitting under the Texas summer sun. There were only a few weeks left of summer break before 7th grade, and you were trying to enjoy it at the park, despite the sun beating down on you. Even your older brother Matty and Phil had wanted to enjoy the day even if they’d both already graduated high school. The two played some light basketball while you sat nearby sketching. After playing for a while, the two of them strode over to you, checking in on you as you quietly concentrated in your sketchbook.

“I don’t know,” you said to them both as you stared down at your sketch, “I don’t know if it’s worth submitting.”

Phil tsked and took a seat beside you on the grass. He patted your shoulder and furrowed his brow. “Come on. You’re probably one of the best artists I know out of everyone in this city. You’re twelve but you’re better than some of the people in school I know who always brag about their art. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Matty sighed behind both of you. “It’s that our dad has been hounding her about focusing more on math next year. He wants her to be studying with a tutor for her pre-algebra class for this summer instead of this.” Your brother glanced away. “Or make friends…” he muttered quietly, but just enough for Phil to still hear.

Phil rolled his eyes. He was grateful to your dad for letting him linger in his home to hang out with Matty. The Graves family household, a few miles away from yours, was a little bigger, sure. But it was empty. With his parents always gone, his dad was either sending him texts from airports to check in on him every few days and his mom would mainly call him to say she couldn’t attend his football games and track meets because of another work conference. Matty and your parents were kind enough to feed him and sometimes let him sleep over. But he couldn’t help but want to sometimes roll his eyes at how much pressure he put on you and your brother.

“How is submitting a piece of art to a newspaper going to hurt her in pre-alegbra?” Phil looked at your brother unamused. “I don’t wanna be a dick, Matty, but your dad’s a—”

“I know, Phil,” your brother huffed. “You’ve told me before”

“It’s actually an art magazine. It’s MUSE magazine,” you cut in, wanting to stop talking about your dad. “They even said they’ll give us a scholarship, too, if we win. I mean, that’s gotta make dad happy, right?”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, as he listened to you. He thought about it and shot you a grin hoping it would cheer you up. He couldn’t help but want to see you happy, wanting to see you get the praise and love for your art that you truly deserved. “See?” He glanced quickly at Matty before turning back to you to say, “Yeah, exactly! That’s even more of a reason to submit— even if my advice alone should be enough.” At that, your brother snorted.

At this you turned to look at him, your lips pouting slightly. You still felt unsure about your idea, and he noticed.

“Listen, as soon as you hear back from that magazine, I wanna be the first to hear about it, you understand?”

You nodded and gave him a small smile. “I will, but what if I lo—”

“Not, gonna happen. I know it won’t,” he stated firmly, as his warm eyes beamed down at you.

Your smile grew more as you leaned your shoulder against his arm. “Thanks, Phil.”

‘ Holyshit… ’ , you thought to yourself as you ran toward the Graves’ home one afternoon. Your parents always reprimanded you for swearing but who cares right now . You clutched tightly onto the new copy of MUSE magazine as your feet hit the pavement. ‘ I actually won !’ You hadn’t bothered to tell Matty or your parents. You wanted to tell Phil first, but he hadn’t come over to visit Matty today—usually Fridays were when they played video games together. You thought it was weird initially but thought nothing of it.

You knocked on the heavy, wooden door, pressed the doorbell multiple times, but he never came to the door. You were confused. ‘ Maybe he’s out back ? ’ , you thought as you trudged over to his backyard’s fence. You were surprised to see it was left slightly ajar, when usually you and Matty always had to wait for Phil to unlock it if you decided to visit his home. Slowly, you nudged the gated fence door open, expecting to see nothing more than the Graves family’s pool, some towering, old trees, and maybe some overgrown grass. But instead your jaw dropped.

By the shining blue pool, Phil had another girl’s hands entangled in his light brown hair. At first you were confused, but you felt your chest tightened when you realized his lips were moving against hers and that his own hands rested on her hips. He was shirtless, his body still drenched in the cool pool water and she wore a light pink bikini. Her own dark red hair was also wet clung to the skin on her pale shoulders. That’s when it hit you: Phil had a girlfriend you didn’t know about, and you’d just walked in on them making out.

You felt your heart stop when from over the girl’s shoulder, you saw Graves’ dark eyes flicker and briefly meet your own. You let out a small gasp, your eyes shifting away quickly. You quickly turned away and your hands clenched tightly around the magazine in your hand, not caring anymore if your artwork featured in it was crushed now. You felt your stomach jolt as you ran back home, fearing you were going to vomit midday in the middle of the street. The red hair. Phil shirtless. The pool. His hands on her hips. The shadows in his eyes. Was that a smirk you saw? Or had you imagined it? It all kept flashing in your head as you jogged back home. You felt like your own brain was torturing you with the images now.

Back home, as you strode toward your room, your throat tightened. Your lips quivered and you felt the few tears still clinging to your eyes begin to slip through. Matty walked out of his room, about to ask you where you were, when he saw the distress etched on your face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

You clenched your teeth as you felt the tears begin to flow freely now down your cheeks. You stepped into your room, but turned around to face him. “Nothing’s wrong!” you growled out, before shutting the door loudly in his face and twisting its lock.

As night fell, you clung tightly to your pillow, your tears staining it as you cried. Your brother continued knocking on the door from time to time, calling your name out in frustration. But no matter what, he couldn’t coax you out of your room. You also didn’t know why you wouldn’t let Matty in. You didn’t even know why your heart broke so much when you saw Phil and that other girl. But from then on, your view of Phil had changed. You didn’t want to face him anymore, to be his brother’s stupid kid sister always lingering around because she had no friends of her own. You were a burden on him. He probably just wanted to hang out with Matty, not you. You wondered, how many times did he want to talk to him about girls or sex, or anything else, and he couldn’t because you were there?

As you drifted off to sleep, eyes puffy from salty tears, you forgot about the crumpled magazine laying on the ground. Your thoughts only revolved around one idea: You were going to do Phil a favor and avoid him at all costs.

#cod x reader #phillip graves x reader #cod fanfic #phillip graves fanfic #phillip graves x you #phil graves x you #phil graves x reader #graves x reader #Authors Has Played Call of Duty

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it-was-too-cold-always · 1 year

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Always Read the Fine Print Chapter 8

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Who actually reads all the terms and conditions? After mindlessly checking a box years ago, our Reader unintentionally agrees to be part of a scientific study to create super soldier babies. To make matters worse, her fellow test subject is the brooding and intimidating Bucky Barnes.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky get married.

Warnings: arranged marriage, forced proximity, eventual smut, lots of angst, violence, PTSD/nightmares, panic attacks, language

Inside the courthouse, Bucky led you towards two men standing off to the side. Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson - your two witnesses. Steve wore tan slacks and a blue button up. His eyes were kind and body language was very approachable. You knew you’d like him. Sam wore a dark green polo with dark jeans. Very casual. He was still smiling from some comment he just made to Steve. All three of them towered over you, even in your stupid heels. Bucky introduced you; they each shook your hand and smiled politely. You were sure they pitied you, and you didn’t know how you felt about that. It probably didn’t help that you looked like a sad puppy dog, glued to Bucky’s side, overwhelmed with the bustling courthouse and impending wedding.

You were early to your appointment, so the four of you waited in the hallway. Bucky and Steve stood in the far corner, clearly discussing something serious. Sam, feeling bad that you weren’t in on it, decided to stay back and make small talk with you.

“Ever been married before?” he teased. You laughed.

“Nope, first time. You?” you asked.

“Nope. And I don’t plan on it anytime soon,” he replied. You smiled. It felt nice to be lighthearted about the situation. It helped your nerves.

You glanced back over at Steve and Bucky. Whatever they were talking about, it was frustrating Bucky. He was pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. When he opened them, he met your gaze. You offered him a small smile, embarrassed that he caught you staring. Not wanting you to feel left out on your own wedding day, Bucky told Steve they’d talk more later and walked over to you and Sam.

“Stop harassing her, Sam,” Bucky said as he sat down next to you, swinging his arm on the back of your chair.

“Harassing? We’re having a perfectly civil conversation.” Sam turned towards you. “How do you put up with this guy? Is he always a pain in the ass?”

“No. Sometimes he’s asleep,” you joked. Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes, smiling.

Just then, you were called into the room. It was finally time. You were all nerves and froze in your seat, unable to get up. For some reason, this moment made all of it feel more real.

“Doll?” Bucky whispered to you, “it’s our turn. You ready?” You nodded, breaking out of your trance. You sure as hell weren’t ready, but you took Bucky’s hand regardless. He led you into the room and gave your hand a small squeeze. You were grateful for the warmth. The next several minutes were a blur – you were pretty sure you were dissociating.

“…take you as my lawfully wedded wife…”

You were pushing down an anxiety attack. Just breathe, take one thing at a time, you told yourself. Handle the wedding first, you can deal with everything else later. Don’t even think about the impending pregnancy right now.

“…to have and to hold…”

You fixed your eyes on Bucky’s. He could tell something was wrong but wasn’t sure what to do about it. You should’ve done this sooner – something about just looking at him was calming you down. A few more deep breaths, you told yourself.

“…for better or worse…”

You thought of his nightmares, how you have seen him look so broken and sad. How he almost killed you that first night. How he begged you to stay in your bed and leave him alone. You’ve seen him at his lowest, and if you don’t get your shit together right now, he’s about to see you at your lowest.

“…in sickness and in health…”

You didn’t notice Bucky grab your hands in his until you felt a light squeeze. You looked down – your hands looked so small in his. You admired his metal arm; how intricate it was, his fingers somehow delicate, despite knowing what they’re capable of. His flesh hand was kind of sexy, you thought to yourself. Yes good, better turned on than having a panic attack.

“…to love and to cherish…”

Your breathing was evening out and you were more aware of your surroundings. You squeezed Bucky’s hands back, as if to say you’re okay. You can do this.

“…until death do us part.”

It was time for the rings, and part of you panicked – did you even have rings? Bucky reached into his pocket and took your left hand, which was shaking terribly. He slowly slipped the band onto your ring finger. You took a moment to look at it – it was a simple gold ring with a stunning marquis-cut diamond. It was perfect.

He handed you the other ring and gave you his left hand – the metal one. You hesitated for a moment; you knew how Bucky had mixed feelings about his arms. You were honestly surprised he wasn’t wearing his gloves right now. You slipped the gold band on his finger and admired how it looked on him. It complimented the black and gold in his arm beautifully.

Next came the dreaded moment: “You may kiss the bride.” Bucky took a step forward and leaned in, gently placing his hand on your cheek. You couldn’t take your eyes off his lips if you tried. He paused a moment, as if to ask for permission. That’s when you decided to be brave. You’ve been daydreaming about this for so long. You tilted your head, closed your eyes, and closed the gap between you. Your lips met his in a delicate kiss. Despite how short it was, it sent shockwaves through your whole body.

The sound of Sam clapping loudly pulled you out of the haze. Bucky straightened up and cleared his throat. As awkward as it seemed, it was exhilarating. You could still feel his lips on yours. You took a deep breath and hummed – you did it, and no panic attack. You were officially Mrs. James Barnes.

You all decided to get dinner and drinks after the wedding. Guiding you to a table in the back, the waitress asked if you all were celebrating anything today. Sam wasted no time in answering her.

“Yes ma’am these two right here just got hitched, so let’s start off with a round of drinks!” Sam was more enthusiastic about the marriage than the rest of you combined. Bucky shot him a look. Sam shrugged, “What? Maybe they’ll get us some free apps or something.”

You sat next to Bucky, who was quick to rest his arm on the back of your chair. His fingers grazed your shoulder every now and then, and it sent shivers down your spine. He was trying to be nonchalant about it. All the handholding during the ceremony – and the kiss – only made him want to touch you more. But he didn’t want to be weird about it, especially around his buddies, so he settled with occasionally brushing his fingertips against your arm.

The night went surprisingly well. Steve sat across from you and told you all sorts of stories about Bucky from back in the day. Bucky seemed to be enjoying himself, which made you smile. It was nice to see him relaxed. You laughed at Sam and Bucky’s quips; they pretended to hate each other, which was kind of cute. And to Sam’s enjoyment, they did give you a complimentary dessert to celebrate the wedding. You tried to have a good time, pushing down any nerves you had about what comes next - your first night together as husband and wife.

Chapter 9

Taglist 💛

@kandis-mom @learisa @pono-pura-vida @smile1318 @stinkerbelle007 @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @wonderland2425 @lowkeysebby @cookiie-c @mrsevans90 @touchit-pcy @vicmc624 @mrsbarnes32557038 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @wonderland2425 @tsofo26

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #marvel #bucky angst

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damagedintellect · 6 months

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💌 Reading into the palms of isekai bullshit:

Chapter 8 💌

Summary: You were no stranger to isekai bullshit. It’s not like you had a problem with it. The genre took over the anime scene for years now but you try to stay away from thinking about how you would handle the situation. The last time you thought about inserting yourself into your favorite show you wrote a 100k word xReader fic for your favorite characters and you didn’t want to spend all your time consumed by the brainrot again. Never again, you promised yourself that was the last time you’d let the devil on your shoulder win. You clicked on chapter 1 to start the adventure over again but when you opened your eyes and saw Dazai O-FUCKING-samu getting choked by Kunikida you honestly hoped it was a dream.

Notes: Oh boi first I wanted to thank everyone for being patient with me I'm sure if you read my other works you're in the know, and probably sick of hearing about how the last half of 2023 I was pretty much in and out of the hospital but I'm fine now! ...BTW 🍋 in this one

★ Chapters [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [You Are Here] ★

💌 Word count: 3,392 💌 <= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

Three hours, you have been running around for three hours trying to find Dazai. You were hunched over panting, clutching the wall of a building to brace yourself. If only you hadn’t lied to Chuuya then you could get his help. Although if Dazai doesn’t want to be found, maybe Chuuya wouldn’t be able to find him either. The roof, Dazai’s room, Oda’s grave, Lupin, rivers, bridges? You were running out of places to go and places that you knew of. You grit your teeth, Ranpo won’t help you either. Not unless you beg and he feels sorry for you. At this point you were pulling on your hair at your wits end. Where would he go? Or rather maybe you should be asking a different question. Where would be the last place you would look?

You coughed before running back to the dorms. There was no way right? The last place you would expect Dazai to be, would be in your room. It was fairly sound logic. With the kind of person he knows you to be, you probably wouldn’t go back to your room until you either found Dazai or gave up. Sometimes the best hiding spot was in plain sight. Your lungs were burning since before you rounded the corner let alone when you tripped up the stairs. This had been the most cardio you’ve gotten in a long time and this was including the week Q’s ability was let loose. You fumbled with the key and stumbled inside heaving as you fell to your knees trying to close the door behind you. The clattering of bottles could be heard from the entryway. You managed to pull yourself to the main room to see the damage. It looked just as cluttered as Dazai’s room to the point where you were concerned for his liver. It was a mixture of empty sake and whiskey bottles. You might have to get Yosano to pump his stomach. Dazai was curled up into a ball in the corner of the room. He still had half a bottle of whiskey in his hands and his head was in his knees.

You tried your best to catch your breath before trying to navigate through the wreckage that you’re going to have to clean up later. To be completely honest you half expected him to drop off the face of existence for a week. You’re surprised you even found the brunette. You looked around whistling to yourself. People always say something, something Chuuya’s the alcoholic but you're convinced otherwise. You don’t think Dazai even registered your presence when you sat next to him. Gently you pried the bottle from his hands, taking a swig for yourself. It wasn’t your go to hard liquor but after everything you needed a drink. Your head had too many thoughts that needed to be quieted down.

You put the cap back on the bottle and leaned your head on his shoulder putting his hand that once held the whiskey in your own while interlacing your fingers to deter him from running. Although you highly doubt he could in this state, but you never know with anime logic. For all you know he could have just moved all the bottles from his room to make it look like he was far gone. The only real clue you had was the fact he smelled like alcohol and sweat but you weren't much better either.

“You still conscious Dazai?” You take a glance in his direction seeing if he turned his head towards you or anything. He didn’t.

“How’d you know I was here?” His voice was cold and smooth. If you didn’t know any better you would probably think he was sober. It takes roughly thirty minutes for alcohol to take an effect on your body. Although you didn’t know when he started drinking and how much he had. Trying to deduce the situation was harder than you thought. There were too many variables you needed to take in account and nothing could have prepared you for this if it was a trap. You would just have to trust your gut and with all the empty bottles laying around, assuming he did drink them then he had no chance to be sober. It kind of worried you.

“I didn’t. I ran out of places to look and hoped you’d be in the last place I searched.”

Dazai only nodded at your explanation. You sighed leaning over him to use your other hand to grab his face. “Look, I’m not like you, or Ranpo,” you paused briefly grasping at straws “Or even Fyodor. I'm not a genius. I have, one, very specific party trick, for everything else I’ve been taking shots in the dark. I’m not actually eloquent with my words and can’t pull these, “Everything will be okay” monologues out of my ass. So tell me what's actually bothering you so I can fix it and we can move on.”

“No” He had absolutely no hesitation in his answer and it caught you off guard.

“No? What do you mean no?” You studied his eyes but he blankly stared back at you before his eyebrows knit together with uncertainty. Dazai huffed “I don't know.” The tone of his voice made your heart clench.

Dazai looked down at the hand that was still holding his. He slowly tugged his fingers free as he changed the grip you had on him. He sucked in a shaky breath melting into the hand you had on his cheek “It hurts,” Dazai turned, pulling you as close as he could before placing your other hand on his chest, directly over where his heart was “Right here.” Your eyes widen at the gesture, your mind going completely blank. You watched as his expression faltered showing just how uncomfortable he was. Dazai was shaking like a cornered animal.

He was trying his best not to push you away or intentionally say something to hurt you even though he could feel the venomous words dancing on his tongue. He didn't know how to sit with the vulnerability. It didn't even occur to Dazai that he was trembling until you pulled him into a tight hug. He latched onto you like you could disappear at any moment. You honestly didn’t know what to make of this either so you did the same, shifting closer. You closed your eyes listening to his breathing as you rubbed his back. Neither of you had anything else to add for a while and you don’t think you could, even if you did.

The only signal that time had even passed you by was the light from outside. It had faded from its original brightness leaving you two huddled in the dark. At this point you were both gross and sticky with sweat, you should probably take a bath or at least start cleaning up so you can lay your futon out. You carefully pulled away just enough to look at the rest of the room. “I’m not letting you leave but we need to at least move everything out of the way if we plan on sleeping tonight. Do you want to bathe first or?”

Dazai mumbled out his response but you couldn’t understand a word or at least you hoped that you heard him wrong because you could have sworn he said “together?”

When you didn’t answer, he finally turned to look at you, reaffirming your assumption. “Can we bathe together?”

You blushed at the sudden request. He was being serious. “I-uh” you were torn. This wasn’t exactly what you had in mind but you were adults and maybe he just didn’t want to be alone right now? It’s hard to say really when he’s studying you like a hawk, waiting for an answer. You swallowed your embarrassment, worst case scenario you could bathe in your underwear. “We can bathe together,” You stood up to start clearing away the bottles knowing you wouldn’t want to do it after your bath. “But only if the bandages come off because I swear I’m not bathing with a heathen.”

You bolted upright, nearly dropping a bottle when you felt something grab your arm. Dazai was peering down at you with an emotion you couldn’t place “Only if you’re naked too.” It was said firmly and with no room for negotiations. Biting your lip you weigh out your options but given your current circumstance, what did you have to lose? You matched his gaze.

“Okay.” You smiled.

If this is what it took to bring Dazai back to his usual self then so be it. After all, it was only fair. Dazai had done his fair share of laying himself bare. Now it was time to return the favor, albeit in a completely different sense. It didn’t take long to push all the bottles aside and set up your futon. You were amazed Dazai was even standing on his feet. As you grabbed some towels, it occurred to you that Dazai would have nothing to change into afterwards but you didn’t want to leave him to grab something from next door. You guess you would just have to wash his clothes so he had something to sleep in. You turned away to disrobe and surprisingly Dazai did the same. Neither of you said anything as you gathered up his clothes and walked out of the room to put them in the wash. He had a lot of bandages to unravel anyways. You should probably see if you had any for him to use later.

When you walked back in you tried not to look him over but you could feel his eyes roaming your body freely. It was making you self conscious until he said “You’re beautiful.” You nearly got whiplash from how fast your head snapped in his direction. It was jarring to see him without the bandages, numerous scars were scattered on his skin but your eyes were drawn to the faded scar across his chest. The one he acquired while fighting alongside Chuuya at fifteen.

“You're one to talk.” You moved to start the shower. “Don’t you know girls find scars hot.” As you were adjusting the temperature you felt arms wrap around your center. Dazai rested his head on your shoulder. “Hmmm girls maybe but what about beautiful women?”

You turned the shower head to splash him. “Oh, now you're really dripping with good looks.” You laughed teasing him. Dazai looked like a wet cat as you tousled his hair under the warm stream. “Of course I find them hot, silly, I wouldn't have said so otherwise.” You were glad he couldn't see your face that well from his spot on your shoulder. It was one thing to flirt with him in jest, another when you were alone but right now you were both naked in the shower. It kinda made your head spin with how odd the day has been.

As you tried to grab for the soap to start scrubbing off the grime Dazai intercepted your hand. “Allow me.” He said in a low voice. His breath was tickling the shell of your ear. The demand left you frozen as you felt Dazai start feeling up your body with his hands ignoring the luffa hanging from the caddy. Reflexively you squirmed backwards pressing Dazai against you further. You swallowed, there was nowhere to run. Blood rushed to your face. His hands glided over your breasts, brushing your nipples ever so slightly. Dazai made sure they were extra clean before giving them a playful squeeze. You let out a small mewl biting your lip before his hands moved down the rest of your body.

Dazai was intrigued with how far you would let him go, entertained by the soft noises you were making. He kissed your neck as he let one hand drift between your legs. His goal was to clean and tease, but if you begged for it he wouldn't complain. He was thrilled that you didn’t push him away. You had every right to be furious with him but you weren’t. You must really trust him. It makes him feel warm inside.

Dazai was touching you everywhere but the one place you wanted and it was killing you. He never passed through the crease of your folds. It made you take a sharp inhale. This was all so intimate and it was driving you crazy. You were torn, it felt good and you wanted it to go further but you were so tired and dead awake at the same time. The feelings swimming around in your head were all over the place. You decided he’s had enough, it was your turn. Gently you stopped his hands turning around to do the same. Lazily massaging the soap around his body.

Dazai smiled softly as you took the time to kiss every scar within your reach. Your hands stopped on his pelvis. Right now you had so much power. It really depended on what you wanted. Do you get him hard? Maybe suck him off a little and leave him wanting more? Or should you just ignore the area altogether since you’re not sure if you could finish what you start. It was a hard decision but if you wanted to soak in the tub at anypoint tonight you should probably move this along. Instead you forgo the area, handing Dazai the soap as you start washing your hair. If you touched him you probably wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.

When you do finally get the bath running you try not to stare at the brunette but the missed opportunity is all you can think about as you step inside the hot water. Dazai was leaning into your chest because you wanted to make up for what you should have done earlier. You had your arms snaked around his torso holding him to your chest. The job of every big spoon is to make sure their little spoon can feel their love and affection. While the gesture was genuinely supposed to be innocent your thoughts were anything but. You both soak like that for a while letting the hot water relax your sore muscles trying to set those thoughts aside.

As the water started cooling down you started kissing the crook of his neck. The events from earlier were getting the better of you. It wasn't long before your hands traveled downwards, once again resting on his pelvis drawing little circles on the area. Decisions, decisions all of them wrong but you didn’t want to stop. Maybe it was because you were both touch starved and emotionally drained. Dazai hummed tilting his head back over your shoulder giving you more room to kiss his neck. Fuck it you’ve already come this far. You started palming at his member with one hand as the other lazily stroked his chest.

Nothing is hotter than being able to feel Dazai grow hard under your touch. It was hard to pump his length under the water in a meaningful way but you continued to fondle him until he was fully erect, marveling at the thickness in your hands. It was hard to tell how much prep you'd need since you were already turned on but the water was also warping your view of his size. Dazai groaned in your ear gripping your thigh. In this position he was at your mercy and right now your hand was giving him way too much friction. If you stroked him any faster it would be an uncomfortable amount. “C-can I help you?” he practically hissed.

“Be a good boy and dry off while I put your clothes in the dryer.” You gave him a kiss on the lips as you were getting up to grab your towel. You didn't have to look back to see that he was excitedly following orders. You could hear the water start to drain when he pulled the plug. Your heart was racing as you quickly filled the dryer. This was happening, you were doing this. Taking a deep breath you prepared yourself mentally.

The room was still dark. It seemed Dazai didn’t bother turning on any of the lights. You could vaguely see Dazai was already splayed out on the futon waiting for you. “Like what you see?” He gestured to himself slowly trying to entice you further.

“I do,” you giggled “But I think I need a closer look.”

You gracefully crawled next to him, giving him another kiss on the lips. “Oops my eyes were closed” You teased playfully, melting into his lips a second time. Dazai smiled, happily invading your personal space. Hesitantly you let your hands wander bringing him closer to you. Each kiss was making you breathless but you didn’t want to pull away. Not when you could feel Dazai’s hands caressing your sides. The brunette shifted on top of you, nibbling your bottom lip. You gasped letting him deepen the kiss, allowing his tongue to make your headspin. You were so captivated by his lips you didn’t realize Dazai was spreading your legs until he slipped a finger inside you, causing you to moan out unexpectedly at the sensation.

It went in so easy you almost didn’t notice until Dazai’s slender finger brushed just the right area to send a wave of pleasure down your spine. He was quick to add another grinning “Someone must be enjoying themselves. It’s very wet down here, bella.~” Dazai kissed around your jaw and down your neck, lazily fingering your entrance.

You squirm a little at how slow he was moving. If he didn’t get you all worked up in the shower you would be a bit more patient but it’s consumed your thoughts for the entirety of your bath. “Dazai please, I want you.”

He peppered a few more kisses to your chest before pulling back to look at you lovingly. “Already? I haven’t even gotten a taste of you yet.” He mused before swiping his thumb at your clit, causing your breath to hitch. Having Dazai go down on you would feel amazing but you want to feel amazing together.

“Another time, I want you now.”

He was awestruck that someone could want him so badly. Pride swelled in his chest. He really had panicked for nothing. It took Dazai a moment to pull his fingers out and slick himself with what lingered of you, on his skin. He wasn’t joking when he said you were very wet. It was extremely inviting so much so that he was drooling at the thought. Dazai wanted to savor this moment, ogling you as he let himself plunge deeper than his fingers could reach.

You both share a shaky breath. There was no discomfort, only the pleasurable thought of feeling full. Dazai was so warm within your walls it was taking a lot of self control to move, lest he cum prematurely. That would be embarrassing. Dazai shuddered as he pulled out just enough to dive back in. It felt too good to be true and that's saying something. With every thrust you were seeing stars. At this rate you wouldn’t last very long either. You don’t even know when you started moaning his name.

Dazai dipped his lips to your ear and panted “Osamu, call me Osamu.”

Your eyes had been previously wired shut with the intense ecstasy but they snapped open at the request. “O-Osamu~” It felt so foreign on your tongue. You started choking on your words as Dazai rammed into you harder. You were turning into putty, gripping on to whatever you could to ground yourself when Dazai intertwined your fingers with his. It wasn’t long before you both hit your limits.

Dazai slumped on top of you as you both tried to catch your breath. The hot breath on your skin and the post climax bliss had the words falling out of your mouth before your brain registered them. “I love you Osamu. Don't forget that.”

It took a moment for Dazai to respond. The post nut clarity settled his anxieties just enough to come to a conclusion. He was so tired of running away he just might make the mistake of indulging in the moment, disregarding the concern his mind once had.

“I love you too.”

#bsd imagines #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #my bsd brainrot is showing #the BSD isekai au no one asked for #🍋

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