#cook gettin his smooth on

[darnell-la]

Can you do a follow up with the project x!wolverine x government employee!reader (it can be smut or not I just really like that story)

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗧 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗘 𝗢𝗨𝗧 (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ)

pairing: project x!logan howlett x government employee!reader

warnings: tied up, trapped, sniffing, hunting down, roughly fucked against a tree, pinned, choking, “dragged” through the woods, fucked on the patio, ass slapping, hair pulling, etc.

note: we will be making a part three where they contact Charles's school for mutants to warn them about the government, but the government hacked into their call and found out where Logan was hiding out and keeping y/n.

Logan will be more sweet in the next one as y/n grows out of the fear of him.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

when y/n woke up, she was dangling from the ceiling by her wrists. It took her a while to realize, she was in a basement full of big freezers and sinks. For a second, she thought she was going to be cut up and frozen to feed to whoever until she saw a man sitting on the stairs, leading upstairs.

“W-Where am I?” Y/n said, voice coming out lower than she expected it to. “Home,” the man spoke before getting up. He came out of the light, now shaking off the figure.

He was shirtless, yet had jeans on. Her heart skipped a beat, and she didn’t know why. Was it because Project X had her tried up in god knows where, or was it the fact she could see all of his chest?

He was sweaty, hairy, ripped, muscles flexed every once in a while, veins popping from his skin and smooth.

“It’s passed midnight, but I bet you’re hungry. Went to the store then cooked us up some food,” he spoke as her eyes traveled all over his body. She felt like she was in a trance.

“Up here, princess,” his voice was closer. She didn’t notice how close he was until his fingers lifted her chin. Even though her feet were a few inches from the ground, he was still towering over her.

“You hungry?” He asked with a head tilt. “Let me go,” she spoke, not knowing what else to say. “No,” he spoke back, voice sounding stern. She could hear the seriousness behind his tone.

“And if you try runnin’ you’ll regret it,” he said, body now touching hers. Y/n quickly went to kick him right between his legs, but he knew what was coming. He surprised her by pulling her leg to the side of his waist. She went to use the other, but he did the exact same thing.

“Relax, princess,” the man smirked down at her as she tried wiggling away, but doing so made her cunt rub up and down his clothes length. She prayed he wouldn’t notice, but he felt the wet spot soaking into his jeans.

“If you act good, I’ll fix that for you,” the man whispered in her ear, pulling her body closer to his. Y/n held bad the whine she almost let out. What was he doing to her?

Logan eventually pulled back and walked to the corner of the room to lower her rope. He then walked back over to the girl as she looked down, not knowing what to say or do to the man.

He wasn’t giving off any type of serial killer vibes. He didn’t seem like he wanted to do any kind of killing. A part of her felt saved than she’d ever had, especially because of her job, but she felt off just letting this man win what he wanted. And that was her.

After y/n’s hands dropped from the ropes, she lifted her knees and connected with his groin. The man fell to the ground in pain as she pushed past him, running up the stairs.

The slightly frightened girl ran towards the front door, thinking she was free until she noticed a device on the lock that needed a code. “Fuckin’ hell,” she shouted before running around the rest of the house to find another way.

“You ain’t gettin’ outta here, bub!” Logan yelled from downstairs, finally getting up from the ground. You would think a mutant like him wouldn’t feel that pain, but he did.

Y/n panicked, thinking she was doomed until she had an idea. A stupid one which she slightly felt bad for doing but she did it anyway.

“Son of a bitch!” Logan finally made it up the stairs to the sound of glass breaking. She was out and running for her life, knowing he’d be furious about his genitals and glass.

Y/n ran as fast as she could through the woods, a bit terrified of the dark and animal noises, but the real animal was back at that house. He is an animal, right? That’s what they said he was.

Y/n had stopped after a few minutes to catch her breath. He’s never been the kind to run.

As she rested, she looked down at her feet, swing scratches and blood, but she’d get over it. She needed to get away.

As the young woman went to take a step to continue, she heard a noise behind her. She quickly looked back but saw nothing. Maybe it was a squirrel or something, she thought.

Y/n turned back around to start walking until he saw the view of an angry Logan in her face. “Where ya goin, bub?” He asked. Y/n instantly screamed at his presence.

Before she could move, the man tangled her to the ground, pushing his hand down the middle of her back to pin her into the dirt.

“No!” Y/n fought in anger, thinking she was actually going to escape. “When I said no, you ain’t listen, now didn’t you?” The man said through his teeth as he forced her to dress up.

“Logan, please! N-Not out here, not out here!” She begged, thinking people would be able to hear this scene going on and go and check, just to see her getting drilled into the ground.

“No one’s out here, princess. Not for another mile or so — You’re all mine out here,” the evil low laugh he let out as he pulled his jeans down was insane. He hadn’t even pulled himself out of his boxers. He wanted to take his time with her out here.

Y/n tried kicking her legs, but what was the point? He could smell her leaking down her folds. He knew she wanted this, and he was going to make her understand.

“I said, no!” Y/n shouted as she swung her elbow back as hard as she could, making him fall back. Y/n crawled away, but only a few inches to look back at him. The fear that grew inside of her was unbelievable.

Logan‘s jaw was dislocated. She popped his jaw.

Y/n’s words got stuck in her throat. She wanted to apologize as the man slowly looked up. He didn’t mean to hurt him. She’s not like that.

Before she could open her mouth, Logan popped his jaw back in place with his hand before moving it around to make sure it was normal.

“You fucked up, bub,” the man said before crawling towards her. It didn’t even look like a crawl. How did he do that? Logan lifted the girl up by her neck and pinned her to the closest tree.

“Ow!” She cried out, feeling the tree bark scratched her ass through her thin and silky nightgown. God, she needed to change soon.

“Logan, ow!” She hoped he’d have sympathy for her, but the way his eyes looked, he was far from it. He wanted to teach her a lesson, and that’s what he was doing.

“N-No, no!” She pushed at the man’s hand, but that did nothing. He ripped her nightgown off like a strand of hair. “Logan!” She shouted, feeling the breeze on her body until his body rubbed against hers.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” Logan growled as he pulled himself out of his jeans. “I don’t like that,” he had as he shifted up and between y/n’s legs until they were lifted off of the ground. Her toes barely touched the dirt.

“I-I can't, Logan,” y/n remembered how he fucked her the last time, and he wasn’t even angry at her. Logan let out a chuckle that he soon cut off after he slammed up into her cunt.

Y/n cried loudly as her arms gripped his shoulders. Logan stared directly at her, his face seemed too serious to look at. He was angry. Very angry. But why? It’s not like the pop in his jaw hurt like any other thing her went through?

“P-Please,” she choked as he pushed her neck into the tree harder, just to get a reaction out of her. “Shut the fuck up,” the man said like the tree wasn’t about to break or come out of the ground from how hard he was pounding into her.

“I can’t,” she whined in pain, but too much pleasure to not tighten around him. The way she squeezed him, egged him on further.

“Oh, you can’t? Does it look like a give a fuck? Huh!? Does it!?” He spat as his pelvis roughly slapped against her clit. She couldn’t think straight. This man was fucking her like some wild animal in the woods. She’s literally being fucked by an animal in the woods.

“F-Fuuuck,” y/n dragged with a broken moan. Logan let her neck go and used both of his hands to grip and hold onto her legs, keeping her up and against the tree, not caring how much she scratched at his shoulders and chest.

The man growled in her ear, cock slipping in and out of her entrance as her asshole puckered. He was huge and slagging around like he wasn’t.

Y/n couldn’t say, but her broken cry warned him she was cumming, and when she did, it was hard. “Goddamnit — Fuck,” the man grunted, pinning his feet to the ground to keep up his hard abuse.

“So fuckin’ good — Fuck!” The man couldn’t keep himself together as his nails dug, into her thighs. Y/n was now crying, not because she was scared, but because of the overstimulation followed by a thrust that wouldn’t slow down.

“Yeah? Yeah, is that the spot, baby?” He asked, knowing it was. “Think this is over just because you came? Think ima stop because you’re drunk on my cock? How did that go last time?”

The girl shook her head, half ass answering his questions. “So cute,” the man chuckled before pulling y/n off of the treat and throwing her over his shoulder to give her a small break.

He wanted his fresh meet alive and functioning when he fucked filled her up. Last time he didn’t get that chase, but he swore to god he would this time.

Because she ran so far, he had to walk it, giving y/n some time to come to life. “Lo-“ y/n cut herself off, still having trouble speaking, but held herself well enough for him to understand.

“No more,” she begged, but he wasn’t having it. “Please, no more,” she begged again as she noticed him passing his car parked several feet from his cabin.

“Logan!” She shouted, now kicking and screaming again. The man grew angry but wanted to take her to the bedroom for what he was about to lay on her.

“Logan!” She shouted, gripping onto the side of his house which was a long wooded stand. “Y/n, stop it!” He let her down with a shout as he began pulling her, but she wouldn’t budge and he didn’t want to accidentally rip her arms off.

“No!” She screamed before he finally pulled her off, causing her to fall on the front steps in front of his house. The way she fell and landed on her hands and knees made him say, fuck it.

“You wanna be fucked like an animal? Fine,” he said as he came up behind her, pulling his cock back out before plunging into her, earning a scream that made him know he hit the right spot instantly.

Logan grew an evil smile across his face as he tugged on her hair, making her arch her back before slapping at her ass, causing her to bruise lightly.

“Little sluts get treated like slut, y/n. You could’ve be fucked nice and sweet on the bed earlier, but no — You wanna run,”

Y/n’s mouth slacked as her eyes crossed from how hard the man was pounding on her. “You see that, bub? Look right up there, right into that camera,” he forced her to look at his security.

“Gonna tie you down and make you watch how dumb you look on my dick,” the man spat, making y/n feel the burn in her eyes, but not from embarrassment. From too much pleasure.

“Yeah — Yeah,” the man repeatedly groaned as y/n squeezed him with a shake in her body. “So fuckin’ pathetic, I might have to give you back,” Logan said, knowing he’d never do such a thing. “Nah,” he added drill in her head that she ain’t goin’ nowhere.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ, sᴍᴜᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ...

[tteokdoroki]

hi aali! my ideal valentines gift would be a dainty tennis bracelet that i’ve been wanting for a while <3 and i’d swipe sweet on sukuna ! (bonus: i buy him a silver chain since he’s been wanting a new one !)

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — RYOMEN SUKUNA. swipe sweet: simplicity.

about. boom, it’s a match! ryomen sukuna and yourself have come to an agreement. no gifts and no materialistic things for v-day… but he really can’t help it, especially because you’ve never received a gift out of love and not because someone is trying to buy it ( 0.7K )

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, established relationships, modern bf!sukuna, rich girl + fem!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !

ryomen sukuna doesn’t come from money.

he’s an honest man who works an honest job and makes an honest living. he does what he can to support his family and keep his head above water — and that’s enough for him. sukuna wasn’t always this good nor this honest, the rough and troubled days of his youth have hardened his exterior and made him hard to love. 

to everyone except for you. 

you’re a girl that comes from money.

you’ve never worked a day in your life, but you do what you can to be there for siblings way too evil and ungrateful to care about the sacrifices you had made for them. you weren’t always this noble and you didn’t always care and maybe that made you hard to love. 

but you found each other, despite how difficult showing love may be. you found love for yourselves and each other in simplicity and comfortable quietness. in the way that you’re both so alike and yet so different. how you were raised and the backgrounds in which you came from don’t matter you or sukuna. as long as you’re content by one another’s sides. 

that’s why you had a rule. no gifts on valentine’s day — you would settle for one another’s company, perhaps a home cooked meal from sukuna’s skilful hands and some cheap chocolate you'd impulsive bought on the way home. you already owned everything money could buy thanks to your father and his fruitful lifestyle, there wasn’t anything more you could possibly want except for being with your boyfriend like it was any other day. it was simple, being together was simple. 

that’s why you frown as sukuna pushes a small, pink box tied with a little white ribbon across the smooth marble of island in your kitchen. it sits suspiciously between the glass of red wine your boyfriend had poured for you and the roses you had gotten for him (which he liked, he just wouldn’t admit to it.).

“i thought we said no gifts, ryo?” you drawl questioningly, tapping your nails against the counter as you lean over it. 

sukuna doesn’t turn from the stove, his muscled back rippling as he flips your steaks. “that didn’t stop ya from gettin’ me roses, did it, gorgeous?” the smirk he chucks you from over his shoulder stirs the butterflies in your tummy, ones that only react to his love and his touch. “open it up. wanna see the look on your face when you see it.” 

your frown quickly dissipates into an affectionate smile as you take the box between your fingers — fighting a swoon. “i really don’t need anything, ryo. you know that.” the ribbon falls apart in your hands and the lid on the box pops off easily. “i have everything money could buy…” 

but then, your voice dies in your throat just as your boyfriend dishes up your meal and you gift is finally revealed. “everything but somethin’ i’ve gotten you,” your boyfriend says gruffly, mirroring you as he throws a tea towel over his shoulder and leans over the island to take your delicate little gift between his thick, calloused fingers. a tennis bracelet made from the finest silver sits pretty in ryomen’s hands, it’s silver charms glint under the dim and romantic lighting set for tonight. there’s a little ‘s’ for his family nickname, and a heart as if to remind you that his is forever yours.

he reaches out, surprisingly tender for someone so hardened, and grasps your wrist — helping you with the clasp on the little bracelet. “i know you’re not materialistic, couldn't care less about money. but no one’s ever gotten you anythin’ because they care. not because they’re tryna buy your love.” he explains, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

as if loving you this much is the most normal thing in the world. 

“aww ryo,” pouting, you wrangle his hand into holding your own — looking across at your boyfriend with puppy dog eyes. “you love me? you’re not trying to buy my love?” 

“don’t need to,” he rolls his blood red eyes, but you don’t miss how they brim with love. “ain’t you whipped f’me?” sukuna sasses you, plays mean, but his lips against the inside of your wrist tell you otherwise. he’s just as whipped as you are. 

“kinda,” you respond. 

“only kinda?”

“yeah, sorta.” 

“just say you love me, brat.” 

“alright, ryomen sukuna. i love you.”

and you do, more than what glitter’s and more than what’s gold ( even if your bracelet is silver ). 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[nolita-fairytale]

still into you | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter one: thursday

summary: you, syd, marcus, and carmy return to where it all began: new york city, prompting you and carmy to think a lot about your past... and your future together. (four part series | follow-up to 'make my heart surrender)

warnings: lots of swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, use of she/her pronouns, the lightest of smut, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 5k

listen to: 91 - bleachers | now i'm in it - haim | bewitched, bothered, and bewildered - ella fitzgerald (playlist here)

a/n: re: the poll -- yall really said 'let this man be happy please!' and i love that for us. if you voted for the other fic, i want to reassure you that i will be writing that one right after this! please enjoy all of the fluff and joy of this four chapter fic. i also feel like i potentially robbed us of a smut scene so... anyone interested in a bonus smut scene as a companion to this chapter?

Thursday 

“Alright, guys. We only have a few hours to get our day one prep done. I’ve outlined a schedule for today so that we’re as efficient as possible. Tomorrow’s gotta go smooth, alright?” Carmy instructs, laying out the day. 

You listen intently, marveling at your boyfriend in-action. He’s so fearless when he’s in his element, and being back in New York just seems to bring back all the memories of how you met. It’s like you’re twenty seven again, huddling up for a pre-shift meeting, led by recently-promoted wunderkind CDC, Carmen Berzatto. 

Only, you’re not twenty seven anymore and Carmy is the love of your life. 

“I’m gonna start with the mise for our beef dish, so Syd, can you get working on our signature veal stock? I think we should work with one in the pressure cooker just in case we get short on time and have a back up,” Carmy directs, an intense determination filling his eyes. 

He looks from Sydney to Marcus, before continuing his orders. 

“Marcus, I need you to start on the ice cream today, chef. I ordered us some liquid nitrogen if we need to make more on the fly, but I’d really prefer not to.”

And then it’s your turn, and boy, do you love to watch him work. You have to fight the corners of your lips from curling into a broad grin because you know now is not the time. 

“And lastly, I’m gonna have you work on the pasta. My goal is for us to get all of the agnolotti assembled today, so I’ll jump in when I wrap up with my mise to help you with that, yeah?”

“Heard,” the three of you answer in unison. 

Everyone’s got their game faces on because this is a big deal. 

The biggest, actually. 

Representing The Bear at the James Beard House is more than a big deal – it’s an honor. Only a handful of chefs get invited to cook here per year, and after a little fancy footwork in terms of scheduling, the four of you were finally able to agree on a date with the famous organization. You’re more than elated to be a part of the team, even if you aren’t working at The Bear anymore. 

The four of you quickly busy yourselves with setting up your stations. You only have a few hours to accomplish a whole lot of prep, and the pressure sits heavily on each of your shoulders. Tickets to the dinner had sold out within the first hour, which, after all the press, accolades, and media attention the restaurant had earned over the last few years, hadn’t been a huge surprise.

“Think you can keep up, chef? Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ rusty on me,” Marcus quips, already starting the playful trash talking early.

You let out a laugh, before challenging him in jest.

“Damn, Marcus. Hasn’t been that long. Bet I can still kick your ass on a ‘beat the clock’ mise, chef.”

“Oooooh. Shots fired,” Sydney calls out, joining in on your friendly banter.

“Challenge accepted,” Marcus shoots back, almost instantly. 

And then you’re scrambling to get as many prep containers and a kitchen scale, as you race your friend and mentee, all in good fun. 

You’ve missed this. 

It’s only been a few months since you started your new job – a culinary education director at a startup intent on building more sustainable food systems. While your heart would always be at the restaurant, you’d been ready to take on new challenges. The salary pay and benefits didn’t hurt either. You were happy taking a grown-up job, craving a little more stability and normalcy – and so that you and Carmy could stop paying out the ass for health insurance. Besides, you were still working with food. It just looked… well, a lotta different these days. 

You’ve missed the fast pace of the kitchen, your people, and Carmy’s desire for excellence, but it’s not like those things have left your life either. You still have them. 

After you’d left the restaurant, Marcus had taken over as the head pastry chef. In the last few months, you’ve watched him mentor and inspire a new group of wide-eyed, green, chefs-in-the-making, which had made you prouder than you’d ever have the words for. 

You can smell the sharp-allium scent of onions, as Syd quarters them for her stock, and while you have several cartons of eggs and 00 flour, Marcus has gathered all the milk that you’d just purchased for today’s prep.

“Behind,” Carmy says. He passes you by with a few 5 qt storage containers stacked, as he hugs them to his body with one arm. 

You feel his other hand place the gentlest touch on the small of your back as he leans in and whispers in your ear, “It’s good to have you back, chef.” 

You smile, turning your head just enough to lean back to look at him. 

“It’s good to be back, chef.” 

He presses the gentlest, slow kiss to your lips, and it feels like time stops for a moment. As he pulls away from you, there’s a small smirk on his face as Sydney shouts, “Oh get a room, you two!” 

“If we had the time…” he murmurs quietly, planting one more soft peck onto your lips. His face is still only inches away from yours. You giggle in response, the tender moment filling your heart with warmth. 

“Speaking of time… I just bought Marcus a head start,” Carmy teases, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize what he’s doing. 

You pull away from him, your head snapping towards Marcus’ direction to see that he’s already filled a 5 qt container to its capacity with one portion of the milk. 

“Seriously? Damn it, Carmy!” you cry out, shaking your head. “This is sabotage!”

You hear Marcus laugh in the background and as Carmy walks away with a cheeky feeling of accomplishment. You shake your head in disbelief. 

“Sorry, babe. You can deal with a little hazing, yeah? Since you’ve been gone for so long. Gotta give my guy a head start. ‘S only fair.” 

“You’re such a dick,” you scowl, scrambling to catch up. 

Oh it is so on. 

*

By the time you’re done with your day one prep, the four of you head to the hotel. Luckily, it’s only a five minute walk away, and you’re grateful that the James Beard Foundation chose to partner with one so close. The four of you pull your suitcases down the streets of Greenwich Village, before arriving at the luxurious, vintage-inspired hotel. 

You’re eager to get up to your room, as you haven’t had a shower, nor a time to take a break since you all arrived. 

“Woah…” Carmy says, his brilliant blue eyes scanning the high end hotel room. “You sure we can afford this?” 

You chuckle, “I think uh… they have a partnership with the James Beard Foundation, which is the only way I can answer your question with a ‘yes’ without having to tell you that we have to sell an arm, a leg, and our first born.” 

He shoots a half smile in your direction before letting out a whistle as he looks around. The floor to ceiling windows feel way outside of anything you could afford, as Carmy spots the French doors that lead right out onto a terrace. As you continue to explore the rest of the room, you spot a huge tub in the bathroom – something you’re very eager to take advantage of. 

“Power nap?” you ask Carmy, setting down your suitcase in the middle of the room. 

You’ll put your things away later.

“Fuck yeah,” he agrees eagerly.

You’ve barely put your book bag down before you’re both stripping off your jeans and climbing into the perfectly made hotel bed. After spending the morning traveling, you, Sydney, Marcus, and Carmy had gotten off the plane at JFK and gone straight to the James Beard House in Greenwich. Not only had Carmy been antsy to see the kitchen and get a head start on prep, you hadn’t been able to check into your hotel till this afternoon. You’re both spent, and you know that Carmy’s been running himself ragged preparing for this once in a lifetime opportunity. He hasn’t been sleeping all that well either– his thoughts consumed with nailing down the perfect menu, while paralyzed with indecision.

His quest for perfection had made him irritable over the last few days. You could see that the pressure was getting to him. His appetite was down, he was picking fights with you about small, unnecessary things at home, and pushing Sydney (sometimes a little too hard) at the restaurant. 

But today, he seems a little more in control of his feelings, and it puts him a little more at ease now that you’re finally in New York. He knows he’s been driving you crazy all week, and now that you’re all here, he’s hoping he can relax a little. 

Now that you’re here, in the city. 

Now that the dinner is only a day and a half away. 

You’re hoping he’ll slow down at some point too – give himself a little time to enjoy how big of an accomplishment this is. At least by the end of the weekend. Frankly, you’re glad you’ll have Saturday to enjoy the city without any pressure. 

For all of your sakes. 

You’re surprised that Carmy falls asleep with you during your late afternoon nap. He’s been so wired, so high strung lately, but you’ve just been waiting for him to come back down. Now that it seems like he is, there’s no way in hell you’re going to wake him up. You’re curled up together when you wake, your back pressed against his chest, his arms enveloping you. It feels almost impossible to pry yourself out of his arms without waking him up, but his deep slumber confirms your suspicions and you’re more than willing to let him continue sleeping. It takes a few tries to slip out of his embrace, but you do, and it’s off to the bathroom to get ready for dinner.

You try to make as little noise as possible, but by the time you're out of the shower, and your hair has been blown dry, Carmy’s up. You can hear the hotel TV on as you exit the bathroom and see he’s put his jeans back on. He’s perched on the edge of the bed, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You notice that the dark circles under his eyes that have accumulated over the years seem to sit heavier this week, as his eyes flicker over towards you.

“Damn, my girl’s got style,” he compliments, checking out your all black-ensemble. “We really are back in New York, huh?”

You nod, grinning at his sweet compliment, as you sit down to slip your white sneakers on. 

“You meetin’ up with Liz and Maya tonight?” he asks you. 

“Yeah. Syd’s gonna join for a bit before her thing. She should uh… be here any minute, actually.” You begin tying up the shoelaces of one of your shoes, before slipping the other one on. 

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

“Nah I-, I'll see ‘em tomorrow right? But tell ‘em I say ‘hello’.”

“Of course. I think they’re both really looking forward to seeing you.”

You check the time on your phone making sure you have enough time, before you make your way to where Carmy sits on the edge of the bed. 

“What’re you going to do tonight?” you ask, curiously, stopping so that your body is right in front of his. 

“Well Marcus is staging at per se so… I’ll probably just hang out. Order room service or pick up a sandwich across the street. I wanna run through all this shit so tomorrow goes as well as it can,” Carmy answers, waving his notebook at you. 

He’s like a man possessed, but it’s one of the many reasons you love him. You pull the notebook out of his hands tossing it somewhere on the bed behind you. You place your knees on each side of his hips, before settling down on top of him. 

“Think you can relax a little tonight?”

He pulls you in, his arms moving over your hips. Carmy leans in, placing a small kiss against your glossy lips. 

“Think you can help me with that?”

You giggle in response, twisting your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I think… that could be arranged.”

Before anything too spicy can happen, there’s a knock at the door and you know it’s Syd. Carmy groans as you pull away, falling back onto the bed with a sigh of defeat. You climb off of him, heading to answer the door. 

“Hey, you ready?” Sydney asks, as you greet her. 

“Yeah, let me just grab my phone,” you reply, stepping aside to let her in. 

As she enters the hotel room, Carmy’s sitting up. With his feet planted firmly on the ground, he leans over, resting his forearms on his legs as he runs a hand through his messy curls. 

Sydney looks from you to a somewhat pouty Carmy, as if she knows she interrupted something. 

“Staying in tonight, Carm?” she asks him, as you gather your things. 

“Yeah,” he grumbles, and you can’t help but notice how tired he looks. 

Sydney rolls her eyes in response, “Don’t worry. I’ll have her back by nine.”

“Alright, I’m ready,” you say with a smile as you address Sydney. 

“You guys have fun,” Carmy nods, with a half assed wave.

“Don’t work too hard, boss,” Sydney adds, as the two of you turn to leave. “Oh and Carmy. You’ve got a little…” She gestures towards the lipstick you’ve left on his face. 

You laugh in response, and as you close the door, Carmy can hear Sydney’s ‘oh my god, you two are like rabbits’ comment in the distance. 

Carmy allows himself to fall back on the bed, reaching above his head to grab his notebook again. He’s honestly grateful to have a night to himself. He’s never been much for going out, or big social events, so having a night in feels like a good kind of calm before the storm – especially because the next few days will be full of social interactions. He’d always found New York City a little overstimulating. 

Between the dinner and the reception on Saturday, Carmy felt like he was collapsing under the enormous pressure – his only out being excellence. It’s not just the fact that being invited to cook at the James Beard house was a once in a lifetime opportunity, but there’s important business to announce here too. And then there’s the social aspect of it all, and he can’t help but feel like there are high expectations: from the food world, his reputation, your old friends from New York. And he wants to make everyone happy – he wants to impress them all. 

Something about being back here, and being back here with you, has him caught up in his head about it all. This is where you’d met. It’s also where he’d been at his lowest – right before Mikey died. So much has changed, and Carmy feels too large for his old battlefield.

Because that’s what it had been for him: a battlefield. 

A battle for his mental health, to rise to the top of the New York City fine dining scene, fighting with his feelings for you. 

Over the last two years, he had learned that he didn’t have to fight every single damn day. Some days he could just… be – be himself, whatever the fuck that meant, be a friend, and be with you. It felt strange – familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Being back here makes him somehow feel like the total loser he was six years ago when he first arrived in NYC… and a completely different person at the same time. 

While he was over the moon when he got the call from the James Beard Foundation, he also couldn’t fight this uncomfortable feeling that’s been sitting in his stomach all week long. Carmy had never quite been able to come to terms with the whole ‘celebrity’ aspect of the food world. He knew what he could do in the kitchen. That was unquestionable. But the rest of it – the networking, the celebrity chef circles – was the part he felt most unsure about.

Ever since Sydney’s Rising Star win, he’d let her take center stage with her rising visibility in the culinary world. Actually, he’d been grateful that she was so good at it – that it seemed like she enjoyed the part of the job he hated. There was someone to take the pressure off of him – someone who thrived in front of the camera so that he didn’t have to. But he knows at some point this weekend, he’ll have to face the music. 

There were big changes coming to The Bear. 

*

It didn’t take long after the initial introductions for your friends to fawn over Sydney. They were more than happy to meet your friend they’d heard all about, and the incredible chef who was shaking up the Chicago food scene. 

“Well I’m glad to hear that some things have changed and that working with Carmy’s not a total nightmare any longer-?” Liz concludes your conversation about the restaurant, earning an eye roll from Maya and a laugh from both you and Sydney.

“Oh no it’s still tough sometimes,” Sydney says back. “He has his days. We all do.”

“Liz!” you protest, in regards to the Carmy-bashing.

“What?! You didn’t have to work directly under him back then!” she defends herself, before clarifying with Sydney. “And in his defense, Sydney, it was really our exec chef who was the real nightmare.”

“Oh she works directly under him, alright,” Maya jokes, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“And sometimes on top of him, and also-,” you quip back, ready to play along.

“Oh my god, you’re out of control and I am sick of you!” Sydney exclaims with a laugh in reference to your crass comment.

“So tell us more about the new restaurant,” Maya prompts, refocusing the conversation back to Sydney’s previous reveal.

Sydney tells your friends about The Bear’s plans to expand, and shares ideas she has that even you haven’t heard from Carmy yet. As she wraps up her story, she realizes what time it is, meaning that she’s gotta head uptown soon. She really only was supposed to stay for a glass of wine, but meeting your friends has been so fun that she’s lost track of time. 

“Shit. I have to head out,” she says. “But I’ve really loved meeting you guys. You’re coming to the dinner tomorrow night, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Absolutely.”

“And the reception!” you add gleefully, so glad you get to see your best friends three days in a row. 

“It’s been really great meeting you, Sydney,” Liz says, shooting you a look of approval. She squeezes your hand under the table momentarily, before saying, “Thanks for taking care of our girl. She speaks so highly of you.”

“Where are you off to next?” Maya asks, excitedly. 

“Syd’s got dinner plans,” you answer, waiting for Sydney to provide more detail.

“Yeah, I uh-, I got invited to one of the To Be Hosted events and it just worked out that we’d be in town for this the same weekend,” Sydney replies, a glimmer of excitement flashing through her eyes as she shares.

“Damn, you got invited to a supper club?” Liz marvels. “Okay!”

“Yeah because she’s a rockstar,” you cheer your friend on, saying it so matter of factly that even a stranger would believe you. 

You all say your goodbyes to Sydney before ordering food. It feels so good to be back in the city, back here with some of your best friends. Maya and Liz had been the friends that held you up, and you them, when you lived here. While you had met Liz at your last job, a sous chef under Carmy’s leadership, Maya worked in fashion and the two of you had become fast friends after meeting through an ex-boyfriend. Once you introduced the two of them to each other, the three of you had been inseparable ever since. 

They had always been your biggest cheerleaders – especially when it came to you and Carmy.

“She’s great,” Maya says, in reference to Sydney. 

“Right? I’m so excited for her. This is a huge deal: create her own menu, a chance to run kitchen without Carmy…” you agree, feeling deep satisfaction over the amazing people you have in your life. “We’re announcing the big news at the dinner tomorrow.”

“Speaking of, how is our favorite guy? What’s he up to tonight?” Maya asks, guiding the conversation back to Carmy. 

“I told him he could come but I think he wanted to stay in tonight. I think he needs some time to decompress. He’s been pretty high strung all week,” you answer. 

“Carmy? High strung?” Liz asks back sarcastically, earning a laugh from you.  “I’m kidding! I really am looking forward to seeing him tomorrow. 

Maya shakes her head, before taking a sip of her glass of wine. She’s always adored Carmy, but knows that Liz has a different relationship with him, having worked as a line cook. 

“You guys are… getting serious, huh?” Liz asks, glancing over at you. 

“Um.. I think those two were married after their first coffee date,” Maya adds. 

“It was not a date!” you insist, shooting her a look. 

Liz lets out an unconvinced laugh, and you accept defeat because you know they’ve always been right about you and Carmy. 

“Maya, don’t forget. Our girl is and has always been the Queen of Denial,” Liz adds, winking in your direction. 

“Oh ha-ha. You guys are so funny,” you reply dryly. You nod, thinking about you and Carmy’s relationship over the last few years. “Yeah uh… it’ll be three years in the Fall so… you could say it’s getting pretty serious.”

Your friends are beaming back at you in response to your admission, and while you’d love to spend all night talking about how head over heels you are for Carmy, you’re also kind of ready to shift the attention off of you and your relationship. 

“Enough about me. What’s going on with you guys?” you change the subject. 

It feels so good to catch up with your girl friends. You all agree to make it an early night. While Maya’s husband had agreed to put their kid to bed, she wants to make it home in time anyways. Liz has a date later, and before you know it, you’ve wrapped up dinner and are walking back to your hotel. You send Carmy a quick text, because you’re only a few blocks away. 

You: On the way back. 

New York City has always been so inspiring to you. The city itself feels alive – like there’s an electric undercurrent that always makes you feel so full. There’s never a dull moment, and it feels as if the potential for a wild adventure is always around the corner. It’s also the place that you and Carmy met, all those years ago. It’s funny. The version of you that met him six years ago never could’ve predicted this: that you’d actually get to be here together, after almost three years of loving each other fiercely. 

Your friends were and always have been right about you. 

Back then, you were Queen of Denial and even then, Carmy had been your king. 

But you’re here now: in the city you met in, stupidly in love with the man you’d met six years ago who had seemed terrified to merely have a conversation with you. 

Your phone buzzes in your hand, interrupting your trip down memory lane, as you peek at the text you just received. 

Carmy: Went out for a walk and a smoke. 

You type back a quick, yet short reply. 

You: Love you. 

When you return to the hotel room, you enjoy the quiet of the evening. It still feels like spring in NYC, so you open a window because it just feels too damn good outside. No wonder he’d gone for a walk. You kick your shoes off, placing them gently by the door, before stripping off your jacket and heading into the bathroom. 

As you pull your hair up and out of your face, piling it into one conglomerate on top of your head, you eye the large bathtub you’d admired earlier.  Not only are you in need of a relaxing soak, but you’re hoping you can persuade Carmy to join you – maybe even help him destress a little. You don’t think twice about it, as you strip off all of your clothes, sliding on one of the fluffy robes that the hotel has provided. You flip on the hot water, the sound of rumbling water against tile hitting your ears.

There’s a bath soak in a glass jar that you find on the bathroom counter, before adding it to the increasingly hot water. While it looks like a mixture of some kind of soak and epsom salt, large bubbles begin to form underneath the rapid stream of the faucet, and you inhale deeply. 

Lavender. Vanilla. Chamomile, maybe?

The smell puts you at ease and you can feel your shoulders melting away from your ears. 

It’s not long before Carmy returns, the bathtub is almost at its capacity and the bath soak that you put in the hot water has bubbled up and blossomed into large, sudsy configurations. You’ve put on a jazz playlist, the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald filling the small space as you hum along. 

“Babe?” Carmy calls out to you, as you hear the front door close behind him. 

“I’m in here,” you call to him, turning the volume of your phone down a few levels. . 

You hear a shuffle of shoes, before he’s peeking around the door frame, his eyes lighting up as soon as he sees you. He knows it’s silly. It’s not like he’s been able to be very present over the last week, and it begins to dawn on him that he’s missed you.

“How was your walk?” you ask softly. 

“Good.”

He looks around the bathroom, the air thick with humidity from the hot water. You turn the faucet off, as you’ve now filled the tub to its capacity.

“You look comfy.”

“I am. It’s a very comfy robe.”

You wait a beat before preparing your ask.

“Big tub,” you entice him, gesturing towards the bubble bath that awaits you. 

“Yeah?” he asks, a half smile on the edges of his lips as he takes a step towards you. 

“Big enough for two,” you nod, making your case. 

It’s all the convincing he needs. You’re removing your robe, leaving your bare body on display for him to see, and soon enough, he’s stripping down and climbing into the bathtub with you. You share an awkward laugh as the two of you clumsily figure out how to position yourselves for optimal comfort. Your back is pressed against his chest, and you’re truly in awe of the large bathtub that somehow holds the both of you.

It becomes progressively easier for Carmy to relax. Between the hot water, and your naked body pressed against his, thoughts and worries about tomorrow begin to slip away. The two of you enjoy the quiet intimacy between you, the soft sounds of your favorite jazz standards, and Carmy’s lazily dragging his fingertips across any bit of exposed skin that he can.

You lean your head back against his shoulder, and Carmy buries his face in the crevice where your neck and shoulders meet. 

“Why don’t we do this more often?” he asks, in between leaving a few slow-paced, soft kisses across your shoulders. 

“Hm?” you hum in response. From the way his mouth and hands move across your body, and the silky feeling of the hot water, you barely have a thought left in your head.

“This whole… bath thing,” he clarifies, exhaling a deep sigh. 

This may be the most relaxed he’s felt all week and he likes that you seem to be enjoying this too.  

“Probably because we have a tub that I can only assume was built for a small show dog,” you joke. 

He laughs dryly. 

“Fair enough.”

Carmy waits a beat before speaking again, enjoying how his mind has quieted for the first time in days.

“Let’s put it on the list… for when we’re ready to move to a new place,” he suggests, quietly. 

“Somewhere with a big tub?” you ask, only sort of surprised by his request. 

“Yeah.”

You turn your head to look at him, as Carmy presses a searing kiss to your lips. You feel his hand snake between your legs and you begin to understand exactly why he’s enjoying this whole bath thing. 

“As much as I’m enjoying this…” he whispers against your lips. “Think you maybe want to get out of this tub…”

Another kiss.

“… dry off…”

You slide your tongue against his as his fingertips move higher up your inner thigh, earning a hiss of pleasure from you. 

“…not put our clothes back on?”

And then he’s swallowing your moans in his mouth, as he continues his exploration. Your head is spinning, and it’s not just the hot water that makes you feel as if your soul was set aflame.

“Yes.”

*

The next morning, you wake up alone. On the bedside table there’s a note in Carmy’s scratchy handwriting that reads:

Couldn’t sleep. Went to Chelsea Market. Love you.

You let out a frustrated sigh. Last night had been incredible but you also knew it’d be back to the grind today. While you’re excited for him – and for tonight – you’re also kind of ready for this to be over. You’re ready to have your boyfriend back.

read: bonus smut scene | chapter two

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila

[brewed-pangolin]

Just a little something that came into my mind....

MDNI 18+: sexual themes, slight mentions of choking

Soap MacTavish x f!Reader x Alex Mason

Grocery shopping with Johnny is such a hassle.

First of all, it seems like every time he comes back from deployment, the local mart decides to renovate and rearrange everything from one end of the store to the other.

You've already become accustomed to the topography. But Johnny? No. And he must traverse up and down every aisle until he gets his bearings or he'll go mad.

-

"I swear, bonnie. Why'd they 'ave ta put the toiletries next ta th'canned vegetables. Makes no bloody sense."

You roll your eyes and continue on. Cart in tow as he meanders around the corner to take a gander in the baking aisle.

"Don't even think about it, MacTavish. It ain't happening."

"Ah c'mon," his Scottish baritone echoed over the shelves as you made your way to the produce section. "Y'know I got a sweet spot for them brownies a'yers."

"No. Now c'mon. We got veggies to pick out."

"Wha'? Ya gettin' sick a me pickle already, lass?"

You had to refrain from slapping him in the shoulder as he made his way around the shelves behind you. Whatever incredulous insult you had brimming on your tongue disappeared as you took in your surroundings and gave him a glare that only fueled him further along.

"John MacTavish, I swear..."

"Swear on me pickle."

"Go get the sweet potatoes, John. Before I knock you into next Tuesday," you spat back with a quivering curl to your lips. Pointing to the potatoes as you turned your attention to the greens in hopes of restraining the laugh bubbling within your chest.

The next chore entailed the two of you arguing over what cooking oil was best used for your expert culinary skills.

"I'm tellin' ya, hen. Olive oil is tha way ta go."

"Agreed. But I've been using avocado oil for a while, and I'm really enjoying it."

"Aye. But tha olive oil makes it taste better."

You glared at him with a furrowed brow. Biting back yet another sparky comment as a mother and child pranced beside you.

"Choose your next words wisely, Mr. MacTavish. Or it'll be your ass I'm sending into the composter."

The crystalline blue of his eyes was all the signaling you needed that he had an alterior motive to his bantering. And as much as you enjoyed his company, you knew he'd end up breaking away to indulge himself in the newest automotive products.

"Go. I'll send a smoke flare when I'm done."

"Yer th'best, bonnie."

With a quick peck on your cheek, he was gone. Trotting down the back aisle like a conquering hero as you continued on with the finer details of convenient store enrichment.

Twenty minutes later, you were making your down the main corridor when you heard a distinctive voice ring against the shell of your ear. One that did not belong to your beloved Scot. Yet just as familiar as you made turned the corner to the tire section.

"Alex Mason. Great. Now, I'll never be able to get you two dumbasses outta here."

He answered back with a coitish smile. Golden orbs glistening as he took you in and igniting a flame in your belly you hadn't felt since you last saw him.

"Hiya, love. Lookin' beautiful as always I see."

The smoothness of his voice was warm, fluid like honey running down your back as you recalled how sweetly he muttered the most deranged depravity against the back your neck.

The image of you in the mirror with Mason's hand wrapped so perfectly around your neck as he bent you over and pistoned his cock into your needy cunt. The only sounds keeping you in the moment were your bellowing moans, mixed in so seamlessly with Soap's vigorous grunts as he worked himself off in the corner like a voyeuristic madman.

"Ya good, bonnie?"

Soap's voice pulled you out of your blissed out memory like a fish on a hook. Stunned as the fluorescent light of the store came washing over you, blinking rapidly to bring yourself back to reality within the department store.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good." You nodded. More for your own sake than there's as you took a gander at the items resting in your cart. Taking a mental note of the newest additions as Soap methodically stalked his way around you.

It was the distinct turquoise packaging and unique royal blue font that caught your eye first. The cursive 'glide' etched across the midsection quickly had your pulse racing as a familiar throb began to echo deep within your core.

"Was jus' talkin bout havin' an encore, bonnie. Me bein' back from deployment an' all," Soap breathed soflty against the edge of your neck. His brogue thick, unbridled as he carefully pressed himself against your back. "But this time, it'd be my hand round tha' pretty little throat a'yers."

You could feel he was holding back. Cautious of his surroundings yet unable to contain his overwhelming need, pressing his arousal into your backside as your eyes flew to Mason for any glimpse of guidance.

His golden eyes gave you nothing in return. Only a sinful promise swirled behind the darkness of his irises you were hastily brought to the checkout aisle. Both men cemented to each hip as your items scanned aimlessly over the register's worn screen.

Ignoring her questioning gaze as she hid the anal lube in a double bag with the elongated kielbasa.

"Have a good evening, ma'am." She murmured with a curt smile, giving both men a quick glance before effortlessly turning her attention to the next customer.

And you had every intention to make good on her remark, having a less than quiet night while being simultaneously filled and bent over between both men.

Pockets Full of Stones Masterlist

[second-axis-point]

could you write Joel being awkward and blushy while male reader praises him? love your work 😙😙

Pairing: Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Warnings: None!

Content: Praise, Fluff, Soft!Joel, Touch Starved!Joel

Sorry for yet another little brake. I have had awful writer's block and just had no motivation. But I'm back and I hope you enjoyed this! 😅Thanks for the request! 💙

Under Your gaze

You had been experimenting for about a month now. You had been testing what could make Joel blush. So far brash flirting and gift giving had no effect. You were starting to get a bit frustrated. So you tried something different. Praise. Joel had made dinner that night and you thought that was the perfect time to start. After cleaning your plate you sat back and looked over at him.

“That was amazing Joel, you should cook more often.”

He glanced back at you, avoiding your eyes, and nodded. You could see the corners of his mouth twitch upward. You got up and walked back to the living room, brushing his shoulder on the way out. You heard his breath hitch slightly. Test number one’s results looked promising.

The next day, you found another opportunity rearing its head. He had just gotten out of the shower and was towelling his hair dry. Once he tossed the towel into the laundry basket, he walked out to where you had been laying back and reading. He stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips, seemingly lost in thought.

“Lookin’ good Joel. That a new shirt?”

You tossed a lopsided grin his way and watched closely. The tips of his ears were pink but you couldn’t tell if that was from the shower or from you.

“Yeah it is, Tommy got it for me.”

He mumbled. You sat up and put your book down.

“Blue suits you.”

Another smile and Joel ducks his head down. He gave a quick and quiet thank you before shuffling into the kitchen. Test number two looked just as promising.

Over the next few days, you tried to compliment him at every opportunity you could. You give kudos to his shooting, his cooking, his smile, his clothing, his music taste, and anything else you could imagine. By the end of the week you had finally gotten Joel to blush fully. It didn’t take much really. He was so used to going without any kind of affection, that just the slightest hint of it would get him to blush like a lovesick teenager. All you had to do was compliment his new haircut and he was putty in your hands.

You were walking down the streets of Jackson before running into him. He was stepping out of the stables and jogged over to meet you as soon as he laid eyes on you. His haircut wasn’t much different, just a bit shorter, but he looked great. You turned to look at him and beamed.

“Damn Miller! And I thought the shaggy look suited you. Love the new haircut.”

Your smoothe voice cut through the chilly weather. You reached a hand up and brushed it through his hair. His face lit up and his cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. He closed his eyes and leaned a bit closer. Joel had to physically hold back a whine when he felt your warm hand leave his head.

“I knew I'd get you eventually.”

You laughed and nudged him with your shoulder. Joel looked confused.

“I’ve been tryin’ to get you to blush for a month.”

You kept walking, Joel following close behind.

“So that’s why you've been so nice to me.”

He looked disappointed, his shoulders hunched slightly.

“No, I said all of those things cause they're true. You gettin’ all flustered was just a bonus.”

You walked up to your shared apartment and unlocked the door. You gazed back at him, signalling for him to go in first. He nodded and sort of hid his face in his scarf before walking in. The both of you started to strip off your outerwear, hanging up your coats and putting your boots by the door.

You walked over and sat on the couch with your head back and your eyes closed. You heard Joel moving around. The noise stopped and you opened your eyes to see him standing in front of you. He surprised you by climbing into your lap. He found a comfortable position, his head buried in your neck. You wrapped your arms around his waist and traced patterns on his back.

“Y’know I really did mean all the things I said.”

You said quietly. You felt him nod.

“Can I see your face?”

He hesitated a moment before slowly sitting back. His face was still a bit red and he avoided looking into your eyes, his gaze fixed on your shirt. You reached up and took his chin between your fingers.

“There you are. So pretty. Look at you.”

You smile, genuine and warm. He finally meets your eyes. You start repeating all the compliments you could remember giving him that week. He squirmed in your lap, somehow getting more and more flustered. He seemingly couldn’t take all the praise, pulling his face from your hand and burying it back into your neck. You went quiet for a moment.

“Do you want me to stop?”

You questioned, not wanting to overstep a boundary. He shook his head no but didn’t say anything else.

“Use your words, handsome.”

“No. Keep going. Please.”

He mutters into your shoulder. You do just that. You continue your praise, rubbing his back. He grips at your shirt and wriggles in your embrace. You couldn’t believe that you had the big bad Joel Miller, flustered and squirming in your lap. You couldn’t imagine a better place to be.

[firsttimewriter92]

My haven could be you - Part 3

Joel Miller x f!reader (18+) - Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Joel fights some inner demons about your relationship until you make him see that he is more to you than just a warm body in your bed

Word count: 5.072

Warnings: angst, flirting, pining, feelings, smut, dirty talk, PinV intercourse, rough, desperate, cursing, phisical fight, inapropriate behaviour towards a woman, injury

MINORS DNI!!!

Authors note: Here it is :) The highly requested Part 3. It´s gettin´ steamy again my loves. Hold onto your panties! Not proveread yet

The days trickled by like summer rain and Joel seemed to be more infatuated with you day by day. He´d cook for you, you´d provide the veggies and meats. He´d make sure you got home safe each night before kissing you goodbye passionately in front of your door. On more occasion than one you´d just walk backwards into your apartment and pull him with you. And although he tried to be a gentleman, sometimes your eyes, crooked grin and hands all over his chest made it impossible to resist another night with you.

Something was nagging in the back of his head though. Was he really holding back because he wanted to be a gentleman and take is slow or did he just not want people to see him emerge from your apartment in the morning? The both of you had been out in public together, sure. But you never held hands, kissed or acted couple-y at all. You hadn´t even talked about the status of your relationship. Yes, the sex was fantastic and the attraction was magnetic, earthshattering and simply an addicting feeling.

Still, you were quite a bit younger than him and sometimes when he looked onto your sleeping face in the crook of his arm he was painfully reminded of your youth. No lines or bags around your eyes, smooth skin, vibrant hair. Some scars here and there of course but they never distracted from your beauty in his eyes.

One particular night, he again was unable to resist your touch and little kisses and by the time you fell onto his sweaty chest panting, he once again wondered how in all the stars you were attracted to him. Your sweet little breaths still tickled his chest hair as you lightly chuckled. His broad hands moved soothingly over your back when he heard it.

“Oh, come on. I wasn´t that bad” he said with a smirk. Pinching his side and grinning wildly you lifted your head and looked at him. Rolling your eyes at his smirk you leaned up and kissed him thoroughly again. Your tongue was just as addicting as basically everything else. He groaned deep in his throat and enjoyed the post orgasmic laziness with you. When you broke the kiss you opened your eyes and smiled down at him. Your knuckles gently stroked his cheekbones.

“Would you stop making fun of yourself already? I can´t tell yet whether you´re serious or not.” Joel raised an eyebrow. “I´m making fun of myself?” he asked quietly. “Yes,” you said with a nod and lowered your voice comically. “…let this old man take you to bed. You´re only riding me because you want to spare my back. Old and fragile men need to be in bed early-“ Joel pinched your side with a chuckle before you could continue. “I guess I do make a lot of these comments, don´t I?” he said in a much more pensive tone. You hummed and looked at him curiously. “You…you know I don´t mind the age gap…right?” you asked carefully. Joel took a deep breath. So…it was today, huh? The talk.

“Why?” he asked with a sigh. If he wanted to feel more confident with you he´d had to ask. “Why don’t you mind? It´s not small.” You nodded. “True. It´s not what´s considered normal I guess but seriously…what has been in the last 20 years?” Your temper was flaring up a little. “I don´t care because you´re so fucking hot I can barely keep my hands to myself. I don´t care because you´re gentle with the people you love or want to protect and ruthless to those who harm the innocent. You can be so insanely funny when you let loose a little and I pride myself in the fact that I manage to tickle that out of you sometimes. I don´t care because you don’t give a fuck about what people think about you but care about what they think of me…that´s the reason you always leave and never stay the night, isn’t it? So no one sees you leave my apartment and judges me. Isn´t that right?” Your eyes were hard when you looked into his face again.

Joels eyes were wide with recognition and his mouth slightly open with surprise. He certainly didn’t expect this turn in the conversation. “I´m much older than you” he said lamely. “I don´t want people to think you don´t have other options or…I´m blackmailing you somehow. Argh, I don´t know” he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Joel” you said as gently as you could and it made his stomach spasm. “Joel, that´s not the case. No one is thinking that.” He scoffed. “And even if they did, they can suck some donkey´s ass for all I care!” You grumbled and kissed his chest. “I like you, Joel. I like you a fucking lot and if the last 20 years have taught me anything, it´s that we cannot make our happiness dependent on others. We have to make it on our own. At least until we find people that understand us and accept us.” You looked into his dark eyes. “If it helps…there are one or two people out there who´ve known about my… strong infatuation with you even before you asked me out. And they are very happy for me.” You didn’t know why you were blushing now. Joel had been inside of you only minutes before.

He looked at you a little dumbly but with a racing heart. “Y-You told people you have…a thing for me?” You shook your head. “No, not a thing, dumbass, you need to listen” you said sternly. “I told people that I´m infatuated with you. That I am besotted with you. That I like you! Do you get that now?” Beginning to get a little annoyed and also fighting your own insecurities, you waited for his answer. Under your palm you felt his heart pick up once more. It was like his whole body was kick starting as heat encased you yet again. With precise and quick movements Joel grabbed your waist and suddenly and with a little shriek you found yourself on your back, buried underneath him.

His eyes were the colour of coffee reflecting sunlight as he licked his lips and stared down at you. Well, you guessed this wasn´t a rejection then. “Woman” he growled. “I don´t know how you do it, but you…” he looked lost for words then sighed deeply. “I really” he kissed your nose “really” he kissed your forehead “like you too.” He kissed your lips deeply. Humming you snaked your arms around his strong neck again and pulled.

“Will you please st-“

“Yes” he interrupted against your lips.

“Yes. This is going to take until sunrise anyway so,” he grinned and descended to your neck as his tongue lightly tickled your skin. “I´ll be here all night.” You grinned and arched into him. “Don´t let me stop you then.”

The next morning Joel woke up to the smell of instant coffee and eggs, overpowered only by your scent that still clung to his skin and your pillow. Like a lovesick teenager he turned his head into the pillow and took a deep breath. Instant calmness and happiness washed over him. A feeling he´d almost forgotten. A feeling he could have sworn was lost to him, even before the outbreak. It hit him so incredibly hard he jumped out of your bed almost in a craze. With a pounding heart, almost in panic he swung open your bedroom door and stormed into your living room. To his left was your open little kitchen and there…you stood.

You held the pan with fried eggs in hand, spatula halted in the air as you looked at him with big eyes full of curiosity. “Joel?” His chest was heaving as he took you in fully. You were wearing a white top, no bra and plaid shorts that stopped mid-thigh. Driven by the promise of your warmth and still the almost impending panic in his system he moved forward, stretching his arms out to you. You let go of the pan and spatula immediately.

He crashed into you, pulling you so close to his chest you momentarily lost your breath. One hand came to the back of your head, burying into your hair, the other one rested on your waist, pulling you into him. Your own arms came around his waist immediately as you mumbled into his neck. “Joel? What´s happened?” His breathing was calm but his heart was not. “Bad memory…crept in on me” he said. It was only half a lie. He did remember something. But it wasn´t anything bad. At least, he hoped not. “I see” you said gently and squeezed him a little more. He rested his cheek onto your head and just stood there with you for a while. You enjoyed every second of it, your thumbs painting patterns onto his skin. Gently you kissed his neck. “Better?” you asked and lifted your head slightly. Joel looked down at you and lightly tapped the tip of your nose with his own. “Yeah” he drawled. “Yeah, ´s better now, darlin´.” Oh. Dear. Gods. Above. The accent…you felt your knees weaken as you tried to control your bodies reaction.

You cleared your throat and leaned back slightly. “Eggs are getting cold” you whispered. “Breakfast. Go sit down” you almost couldn’t look at him. He leaned down, looking at you so intently you forgot how to breath. “Yes ma´am” he said in a gravelly voice and hadn´t his arms still been encasing you, you knew you would have slithered down your cabinets. His lips where on yours the next second and far too quickly he released you again. Your lips tingling and a very strange feeling in your gut.

After breakfast, Joel wanted to work on the drain outside of his and Ellies house and you decided to visit Dakota in the bakery. She needed a well deserved update. The both of you exited your apartment, descended the flight of stairs and came to a stop in front of the bakery. Joel looked at you fondly although a nervous tick lifted the corner of his mouth. You took initiative. Smiling up at him like he was a precious price you´d just won, you leaned in, lay your hands on his chest and gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek. Joel took a deep breath and as you leaned back reached out his hand and gently stroked the apple of your cheek.

“See you at the bar tonight for dinner?” he asked. You grinned and nodded yes immediately. Watching him leave into the direction of his house you turned on your heals and dramatically opened the doors to the bakery. Dakota was already sitting on the counter, flower in her hair as always and the most shit eating grin on her face you´d ever seen on a person. “You absolute devil of a woman. How the fuck did you do that?” she asked with more than just awe in her voice.

“Do what?” you asked, genuinely confused for a second. Dakota rolled her eyes. “Sweet cheeks. Joel doesn’t exactly have the reputation of lovey dovey boyfriend material. So, how´d you do it? Seeing that just now...that man eats out of the palm of your hand!” She cackled at her last statement while you thought about it. She was absolutely right. The man that you first met a couple of months ago and the man that had just said goodbye…they weren’t exactly the same. “Maybe that´s a good thing” you said defiantly, smirking at your friend. Dakota nodded and threw you a piece of freshly baked baguette.

“Maybe now he can let loose a little.” She said wisely. “The fucking must be glorious!” You threw your head back as you laughed and hopped onto the counter as well. “Oh, Ducky. You have no idea.”

______________________________________________________

Joel was looking at his freshly showered face as he buttoned up his dark green plaid shirt. His hand glided over his hair and his beard. You called him hot. He almost scoffed again but wrangled it down. If you said it was hard for you not to touch him, he´d do his best to believe it. For fucks sake, you had his dick in your mouth last night…twice... and he still thought about if your actions were genuine.

When he praised your body all night long he knew in his heart every word was nothing but the truth. So he really had to believe you too. That also meant that he should really start not giving a shit about what other people thought of their…relationship? Situationship? Maybe…if he made his interest in you known to everyone, situations like the one with Levi would probably not happen again.

His chest expanded in an involuntary growl thinking about the man that had dared to lay his hands on you. He remembered the hot white jealousy he felt and the rage when he saw it. A weird possessive feeling spread through him and somehow he marvelled in it. He couldn’t wait to see you tonight. He´d loved the time he had you all to himself in his or your room. It was time however to let the people know that you were his and he wouldn’t tolerate anyone’s hands on you except his own.

________________________________________________________

The moment you spotted him standing in front of the barn you knew something was different. He carried himself differently. He was talking to his brother who spotted you first, smirked and patted Joels back before entering the barn.

Joels head whipped towards you and he smiled. Your heart was in your throat all of a sudden. When you stood in front of him, admiring his broad body once again he hummed contently and gave you a firm hug. “Hungry?” he asked into your hair. “Yeah” you breathed in surprise. He let go of you and gently guided you inside the barn with a warm hand on your back. The feeling was indescribable. You had so idea how much you actually wanted him to show his affections in public. It made you feel like this wasn’t just pure attraction and sexual tension.

Joel guided you to one of the free tables and pulled out a chair, looking at you expectantly. From the corner of your eye you could see a few eyes on you. In the back at the bar were Tommi and his wife, watching and smiling. You thanked Joel and sat down with a soft smile. “I´ll be right back” he said and made his way over to the woman who gave out the food for that day. You watched as he gave her a polite nod and waited for her to prepare two plates. With a stinging feeling you saw how she was hungrily looking at Joels exposed forearms that he´d crossed in front of his chest. You saw her say something while leaning suspiciously close to him. A saucy smile on her lips that made your lip curl before you saw Joel´s mouth move. He had a tight lipped smile on his face and suddenly her saucy smile fell a little. You could still see her staring at him while he retreated. Another peng in your chest as you saw her eyes move way too low for your liking.

So, when he made his way back to you, you made a bit of a show of letting your gaze glide over his chest, neck and down to his crotch. Lifting an eyebrow he sat your food in front of you and sat down next to you. “Soooo” you drawled and turned your upper body towards him. “Wanna tell me what this is about?” you asked and gestured to him in general. “What do you mean, darlin`?” he faked a bewildered look. “Oh please,” you giggled. “You´re openly flirting, being incredibly chivalrous and look like sex on legs. What´s a girl to think?”

“Maybe what I want a girl to think is that I am completely under her spell and I think people should know that” he said earnestly. You felt your face heat up and resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands. So, you opted with staring at him a bit too long before you giggled and leaned in closer. “A girl is very, very happy about that.” Joel took a deep breath and nodded. “Eat” he said. “I plan on having a few drinks with you tonight. You know, to celebrate your victory over me” he winked.

“Victory? Was there a battle?” you asked curiously. He shrugged a little. “Momentarily.” His face became serious for a second. “I´m glad you fought for me, though.” Your heart all but melted when he said that. “I´d do it a million times over” you said. He exhaled through his nose, took your hand and gave it a quick kiss. With a roaring satisfaction you saw how the woman that was oogling him before suddenly looked very sour and turned away. A massive sense of “mine” invaded your body as you gave him a heated look.

All fed and happy you strolled over to the bar, Joels arm around your waist. You were glad that no one gave you any dirty looks. Other than one or the other disappointed glance from various women. But you could live with that. The evening proceeded and it was the most fun you had in ages. Music was playing, you were drinking and Joel got touchier by the minute. Nothing dirty or inappropriate but people had to be blind not to see how much he enjoyed being with you.

Around midnight however you spotted something that made your blood boil so bad, you almost threw your glass of whiskey against a wall. Joel was standing next to you talking to one of the horse handlers as you saw the uncomfortable face of a young girl across the room. She was trying to establish distance from a very persistent…Levi. He constantly reached out his hand to touch her in some way and her back made it unconsciously close to a wall. If he managed to corner her…

Your legs moved on their own accord. Bothering you for ages and making you feel uncomfortable was one thing. He´d been one more sentence away from a beating from you anyway. But bothering this young girl and cornering her? Fuck no. That beating was coming. You weren’t even thinking about Joel. Tunnel vision led you directly to the girl. Thankfully she moved back from him in another direction so you now came right up behind her. Levi saw you and an ugly grin made its way onto his sharp features.

As soon as you were in earshot and you could see that he once again was red in the face from too much alcohol he looked directly at you, liking his lips. “I knew a little jealousy would make you see reason,___.” He cackled. “Seriously, trying to make me jealous with that grandpa was just too pathetic.” Rage was coursing through you like fire as you gently pushed the young girl aside and gestured her to get away. She didn’t hesitate for a second whispering a quick thank you.

“As far as I remember that grandpa kicked your ass the last time you dared being disrespectful to me” you hissed in a deadly tone. Levi´s eyes squinted. “That dirty old fucker better watch nex-“ WHAM! With all you might your arm pulled back and your fist collided with Levi´s jaw. Pain shot through your hand but you paid it no mind. A red sheen invaded your vision  as Levi tumbled back, you following and WHAM, your next blow, quite uncoordinated collided with Levi´s ear. He fell to the ground as you panted above him, still standing and seething. “Let me get one thing straight, Levi” you spat. “If I see you one more time making some poor girl uncomfortable, I will personally see to it that you´ll be castrated in the towns square, do you hear me?!” Your voice got louder with every word. “One more time, Levi and I swear that´ll be the longest time you have balls!” You breathed heavily, lowering your voice considerably. "And if you ever dare to say another bad word about Joel, I´ll not only castrate you, I will showcase your balls in jar full of formaldehyde right behind the bar!"

Two men had already grabbed Levi by the arms and dragged him over to the door, smirking at his feeble attempts to fight them off.

The red sheen vanished from your eyes as you stretched to your full hight and turned around, shaking your aching hand. As you looked at it though nothing seemed to be injured. Maybe a bruise would form but nothing a little ice could handle.

When you lifted your head you stopped in your tracks. All eyes in the barn were on you. Heat crept up your neck when you realised that you had probably caused a major scene. Your eyes soughed out Joel´s. You found them immediately and a shiver ran down your spine. He stood still at the bar, glass in hand still and a look of pride, amusement and fiery passion in his eyes. Without breaking eye contact he set down his glass on the bar and walked over to you slowly. Your feet began moving as well, though much quicker as his.

Faintly you could hear how everyone picked up on their previous conversations again and the music became a bit louder. When Joel reached you he still looked like he was about to devour you and laugh his ass off at the same time. With a deep breath he held your face in his hands and with a not so quiet voice, swollen with pride he said “That´s my girl, baby!”

His kiss that followed was electric. Already shaking from its intensity you grabbed onto his shoulders and let him guide. Open mouthed, he took your lips with his in a persistent dance and groaned lightly when he felt your nails bite into his neck. When he let go of you, the ringing in your ears finally let you hear the several hoops and hollers from the spectators around you. You couldn’t help the massive grin that was forming on your face.

“Fucking finally!” you heard a bored voice next to you and saw Ellie smirking at you. Joel already gave her a warning glance. “What?!” she looked at him defiantly. “At least now I can stop lying to people when they ask me about who your date was with and I had to say I didn’t know!” She winked at you. “You owe me one. And now excuse me, I have to get this image out of my brain…and the one from last time as well!”

“Follow me” Joel growled in your ear and took your hand. Leading you towards the kitchen you thought he´d go get some ice for your hand but before you reached the kitchen he made a right and led you down a small hallway towards the backdoor. Your heart was beating out of your chest at this point.

The warm night air hit your face and you took a deep gulp. Joel stopped and quickly looked left and right. To your left where the paddocks for the horses and next to them, neatly stacked into a dark corner, some straw barrels. “Perfect” he muttered to himself and started walking again.

“Joel…erm...” you said with an amused voice. You could see how tense his shoulders were, heard his breath escape his mouth. “I´ll get you some ice for your hand in a minute baby but right now I hope you´ll forgive me…If I don’t fuck you within the next minute, I´m going berserk.” Fluid heat raged through your veins immediately and you already felt its effect on your panties. “Jesus, fuck” you huffed as you reached the barrels and Joel spun you around and pinned you to one of them. His mouth immediately went right to your neck and bit down hard.

A moan raptured from your throat as he licked the sting and groaned at the taste of you. “Sorry darlin´,” he panted against your chest. His fingers inside your cleavage already, searching for your sensitive nipple. “This is going to be quick and desperate. If you´re up for it.” Your head was hazy and leaned back. You spoke to the night sky when you said “Wouldn´t have it any other way.”

With your last willpower you turned around and leaned your elbows on the barrel bending over. Looking over your shoulder with half lidded eyes you wiggled your ass. “Come on, handsome. ´M ready. Quick and dirty.” You moved one of your hands and bunched your dress up to your thigh.

An animalistic growl escaped Joel when he saw the moonlight reflect off of your sweaty thigh. Like a vice his hand gripped yours and led it back to the barrel. “Leave it there” he hissed. Not a minute later your panties dangled somewhere around your ancles, your dress was hiked up over your ass and the sound of Joels belt buckle made your thighs quiver.

“My gorgeous fucking girl, look at you” he panted in awe. “You´re glistening, baby. So ready for me.” You nodded and whined pathetically as you felt the tip of his cock slowly inch into you. “Fuck” you heard Joel growl. “Be ready!” With these words and one powerful thrust he leaned over you and buried himself as deeply inside of you as he could. A shout escaped your moth as you felt his pure desperation in every movement he made. One hand came down next to your ear for support before the other grabbed your hip. “So fucking hot” Joel breathed as his hips snapped into you from behind with bruising accuracy. “Never seen something so hot. God, baby. You smashed that fuckers face in!”

You whined and tried to stay quiet but it was next to impossible. “F-for you. Ah! Shit…He was…he was talking shit about y-you. Oh, oh, hmm!” Joel growled again in a mixture of lust and fury. “I heard” he panted and picked you up by the shoulders. Pressing your back against his chest he picked up speed again and was now rutting into you like a man possessed. He grabbed onto your breast as his other hand quickly moved towards your centre. “Of fuck! Joel, Joel! I´m gonna cum…please!” Your voice spiralled to the beats of the music still coming from the barn.

“I know, doll. I know. Let me help you. I´m. There. With. You.” He accentuated every word with another grind against your ass. The moment he found your clit all you could see was darkness. And then it all exploded into a firework of sparks as you gasped for air, gripping his cock like a vice and trying to will your vocal cords to say his name. “That´s it! Fuck, sweet thing. That´s it! Fuck, yes. Fuck! Yes! Argh!” he yelled into your hair as he pulled himself out of you quickly and spilled all over your inner thighs. You felt his stickiness run along your skin and another wave of shivers wrecked your body. Joel was panting behind you, still holding you up with one arm and slowly relaxing his grip on you.

“Holy shit” he mumbled and kissed your temple. “Are you all right?”

You giggled and leaned your head back onto his shoulder. “Hmmm” you hummed with a smile. “Yes. I am so, so alright. That was incredible.” Joel nuzzled your hair again. “I´m glad” he said gravelly. “I don’t think I would´ve survived if I didn’t take you right that second. Fuckin´ hell.”  

You giggled and slowly turned around, the skirt of your dress falling over your thighs again. “Thank fuck, you did” you grinned and pulled him down for a long kiss. Sorting out your underwear while Joel put himself back into his jeans he suddenly grabbed and hoisted you onto the barrel. Looking down on him slightly you hugged him close with your thighs and looked at him expectantly.

“Got something to say” he whispered and stroked your hair affectionately. “Listening” you said and lightly kissed his lips. He chuckled and chased yours briefly. He opened his eyes and looked at you with affection and incredible softness. “I still know the exact moment I told a girl this for the first time. Needless to say it didn’t work out but…I´m trying to say that I don’t say these things lightly and sure as fuck, not often.” You nodded and let him continue. He took a deep breath. “I´m falling in love with you,___.”

You could have cried. Shaking fingers touched his jaw on both sides as you leaned your forehead to his in a gesture of pure affection and yes, love.

“So am I, Joel” you whispered with tears in your voice. He moved his head from left to right with immense gentleness and leaned in to kiss your lips sensually. His tongue moved over yours with precision and purpose. Minutes later the both of you came up for some much needed deep breaths and chuckled at the state you both were in.

Dishevelled hair, kiss swollen lips and crumpled clothing. “How´s your hand, my love?” he asked gently and took it in his hand. You shook your hand. “I´ll live. But some ice would be good I think.” Joel nodded and helped you down the barrel. He kissed your forehead quickly. “Wanna go to the toilet and…sort yourself out first?” he asked with a bit of a shy tone. “Sorry about the mess.” You grinned and took his hand, pulling him towards the barn again. “You know what? I think I´ll let it be as is for tonight" you grinned over at him. His mouth hung open. “Oh, you absolute temptress” he breathed with a dry mouth. “You better watch it before I put you over my knee.”

Opening the door to the back and the kitchen you turned around and pulled him down for another kiss and you spoke into his mouth. “We have all the time in the world for that, handsome. Let´s start with ice cubes” Joel growled against you. “And get to spanking later.”

That night, you fell asleep in each other´s arms. Sweet words on your lips, content, happy and for the first time in 20 years, with the feeling of hope for a content life.   

______________________________________________________

Thank you very much for reading. Please let me know what you think through a comment or reblog. Likes of course always make my day <3

Love you all and please be safe <3

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[toony-fanfics]

I'll Be Seeing You

~🌹~

》Chapter One《

Words: 3,048

Warnings: alastor x oc (not until later chapters), violence, murder, cannibalism, swearing, knives, normal hazbin stuff

Summary: a story about how Atlas got to hell and met Alastor.

A/N: hiii! Just thought I'd man up and finally put chapter one here! I worked super hard on it! I'm not sure how many chapters there will be, but we vibe!

~🌹~

It’s funny, the way dying makes you think back on your life. On choices you made. On words that have been said. But the cards have been dealt, and now you think about it. Some go peacefully. In their sleep, perhaps dreaming of sweet things and loved ones. Others go painfully. With health problems or a stab to the back. Peacefully or painfully. Slowly or quickly. Expected or unexpected. Death has many ways of making itself known. 

As for Atlas, he had a while to think about his actions. In a few hours, he’d be dead. In a few hours, he’d be frozen. Unmoving.

Growing up in the suburbs in Tennessee, Atlas was a very polite boy, who adored his family. For as long as he could remember, his father would take him and his brother out to hunt or fish, and his mother would often let Atlas sit in the kitchen while she cooked and baked, letting him be the first to taste things or lick the whisk. At an early age, the young boy had developed a love for cooking. His whole family loved the activity, and they were best known in their neighborhood for making meals to share with everyone. In the summertime, they’d have barbeques; in the winter, they’d go around to other houses with homecooked meals that they all worked together to help make. 

Sitting at the table one night, at the age of 16, Atlas poked at the meatloaf on his plate in front of him. This had concerned his mother for many reasons. Atlas adored meatloaf, more than anyone in their family. Atlas loved food in general, and to see him not eating worried the brown-haired woman.

“Atlas, darlin’ you alright? Ain’t ever seen ya poke at meatloaf before.” She spoke up, her voice sweet and smooth with that southern twang she and the rest of Atlas’ family were known for. Atlas glanced up, before nodding, smiling at his mother. 

“Yeah! Jus’...I, uh- I’ve jus’ been thinkin’.”

“‘bout what?” His father spoke up, looking at his son.

“Well…I mean, I was jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout gettin’ a job. Make some money, save it up…open my own restaurant up?” Atlas said that last part quietly, not knowing what to expect for a reaction. After all, cooking wasn’t exactly a skill Atlas shared openly with people. He’d done it a few times before, and it ended with laughter and ridicule. And though his family had been nothing but supportive and kind towards Atlas, the young teenager still didn’t know what to expect.

Silence fell over the table before his father cleared his throat.

“Well…it’d be a lotta work-”

“-I know! Pa, I know-”

“Listen, boy, I ain’t finished!” His father spoke, voice booming. Not in an angry way, though. He wore an amused expression. His son tended to overthink and jump to conclusions, which is why he wasn’t mad. A chuckle escaped his lips before he continued. “Like I said. ‘s gonna take a lotta work. Work, time, dedication, jus’ like most everythin’ in the world. But I also know yer tough. ‘n stubborn as hell, too. Y’get the from me, after all. If anyone in this family could do it, it’d be you.”

The words from his father made Atlas smile. Why he’d expected anything but encouragement, he didn’t know. Regardless, he’d made it a point to apply for not one, but two jobs.

Atlas spent the next few years working his hardest at both jobs. He often came home late, exhausted from sweeping floors at the market or washing dishes at the cafe. Yet he managed to keep up with his school work and his family. Finally, at the ripe age of 19, Atlas had saved up enough money to buy the building he’d wanted to use for his restaurant.

Standing outside the rundown building, Atlas and his mother gazed at it. It was about the height of a three-story building, though it only had one floor. Inside was what many would describe as a shithole. Sure, it needed a new…well, everything, but Atlas could manage. With the help of his family, he turned that rundown building into the Sunnyside Diner. Despite the name, the young man would be known for his meatloaf, though his breakfast meals were always a hit.

Standing outside the new diner the day before opening, Atlas bit his thumb anxiously, a habit he’s always had.

 “...’s it- ‘s it worth it? ‘m I doin’ a good thing?” He spoke softly, staring up at the sign on the top of the building. Atlas’ mother gazed softly at her son, gently removing his thumb from his mouth.

“Oh, Tater, how often do I gotta say no bitin’? That thumb of yours is for makin’ food, not bein’ food. Now, I want ya to look at me, ‘n I want ya to listen.” His mother grabs Atlas by the shoulders and turns him to look at her. 

“You, Atlas, are the most creative, smart ‘n talented young man anyone would ever have the pleasure of knowin’. This is big, dear. This whole restaurant is here because you wanna share the very thing you love with everyone. This is here ‘cuz y’thought of somethin’ ‘n y’stuck with it. Y’worked hard for this, ‘hon. Y’deserve this.”

Feeling his mother’s hand go up to his cheek, Atlas softened. Her words swaddled him in a warm embrace, and his heart swelled at the encouragement. 

“Thank you, ma. Meals for ya are on the house.” He joked, letting out a small chuckle. His mother laughed that bubbly laugh she was known for, patting his cheek gently.

Business had been booming. Things were going amazingly. Atlas would constantly get compliments and get new patrons every day because of the word being spread around. He was at an all-time high. This was the best thing that ever happened to him, and he didn’t think he could ever come down. Money was rolling in, meals were rolling out, people were laughing and talking, and his restaurant was packed most days. It was a lovely sight for the man.

All good things come to an end, though. And this good thing came to an end three years after Sunnyside opened. Atlas had noticed a decline in business as of late. While bringing out meals to people, he heard others complaining. 

Scrutinizing his food.

“It’s gotten a bit bland.”

“His meatloaf don’t even taste like meatloaf!”

“Why’s it always the same thing on the menu?”

“It starts to taste kinda bad after a while.”

After hearing all the complaints, the man couldn’t help but feel enraged. Why on earth would they say such things? About his food, no less? And the recipes…those were family recipes. Recipes he learned his whole life. Recipes he mastered. Recipes he bonded with his family over.

New. New, new, new. Atlas felt sick as the word tumbled around his head the whole day. New.

How could they insult his family in such a manner?

That night, Atlas snapped. The man went on a killing spree. Enraged by the insults, enraged by the awful comments, he saw red. Both figuratively and literally. Each body was placed in a wheelbarrow after being murdered, and before long, the wheelbarrow had gotten full. With blood splattered all over, the man made his way back to his diner. 

At first, coming up with a way to dispose of the body had been hard. There were many ways, some more effective, and as Atlas stood in the alley by his restaurant, it hit him. It hit him like a ton of bricks.

They said they wanted new meals. New ingredients? New recipes?

Well, they’d get them.

Atlas was up all night, grinding human meat and storing it in the freezer. Once Atlas had disposed of the bodies the way he knew how the man left the building as if nothing had happened.

The next day, Atlas announced new burgers made from only the best meat. The thought of something new brought many to his establishment once more. People enjoyed the burgers. People enjoyed the meals Atlas would prepare. They loved it and had no suspicion.

Amazing, the way the brain worked. It often puzzled Atlas, but in times like this, he was thankful for the obliviousness.

Doing this for a few years, one is bound to get caught. While staying late, an employee of Atlas’ heard noises coming from the kitchen. When going back there, he was met with a gruesome sight.

His boss, all bloody and sweaty, with a wheelbarrow full of dead bodies. Was this why the man had been more reserved? More hesitant to let others into the kitchen? More temperamental? 

A soft gasp escaped the employee as he took a step back. Atlas, without looking up, chuckled to himself. Slowly, he reached for a chef’s knife and stood up.

“Well, ain’t this a pickle. ‘n here I thought no one else was here.” He tosses the knife up, watching as it flips a few times in the air before he catches it by the handle. Slowly walking to the kitchen door, the man locks it. “Guess‘s my own fault. Shoulda checked fully. Don’t matter, though. Ain’t gonna matter.” He chuckles again before running his finger up and down the blade of the knife, circling the trembling employee.

“Wh…what- what are you…?” He started, his eyes wide as he stared at his boss. The man who’d once been well-liked and so polite to others just years ago had now snapped. Atlas wasn’t Atlas anymore. This was a different man.

“I’d hush up if I were you. Don’t wanna make it any harder than need be, hm?~ Now then. We got ourselves a bit of a problem, Joan. See, yer seein’ somethin’ ya ain’t ‘sposed to. That ain’t gonna fly with me. I like keepin’ stuff private, see? Now, I could let ya go, make ya promise to keep yer fat fuckin’ lips shut.”

Atlas pauses, still circling Joan, the employee.

“...nah, that’d be too easy. ‘n who’s to say ya won’t jus’ promise to save yer own skin? For all I know, y’could be plannin’ on gettin’ the law involved right now. ‘n that ain’t good for either of us. Way I see it, the only option I have is jus’ killin’ ya right now." 

The words sounded almost nonchalant. Casual. As if it were a topic in everyday conversation. Fear overtook Joan’s entire being as he glanced towards the door of the walk-in freezer. His breathing was uneven as he slowly backed away from Atlas, towards the freezer. With each step Joan took back, Atlas took one forward.

“Y’know, kid, ‘s a real shame. Y’were one of my best employees. I liked ya a lot, Joan.” Atlas raised the knife. “If it makes ya feel better, I’ll be sure to put ya in one of my best dishes. Yer death ain’t gonna be all in vain.” A twisted smile appeared on his face as he brought the knife down.

Joan yelled out and moved a bit to the left, causing the knife to go into his shoulder. A pained scream emitted from the employee as tears sprung to his eyes. Whimpering, he watched as the blood pooled out and bled through his shirt. The knife was stuck, jammed in deep. Joan groaned out loud as he stared up at the man he’d once called his boss, before moving a hand discreetly to the handle of the door leading into the freezer.

Atlas growled and grabbed another knife, this one a cleaver. Glancing at the employee, leaning against the door, Atlas raised the new knife, preparing to bring it down again. However, what happened next shocked Atlas.

In one swift motion, the freezer door swung open, and cold air suddenly flowed out into the room. His arm was grabbed by Joan, and Atlas was shoved inside. Stumbling back, he slammed into a few boxes of various frozen ingredients, before falling on his rear. Jostled around by the sudden collision, one of the boxes at the top of the stack fell and landed on his ankle. A scream emitted from the chef, as the heavy box had broken the bone, leaving him immobilized. Stuck.

“Son of a bitch, LEMME OUT. NOW.”  Atlas screamed, throwing various things at the door. Each thing he threw landed too far away for him to pick up and throw again, and before he knew it, Atlas had nothing. He couldn’t do anything. He was defenseless, immobilized, and locked inside of this tiny box. It was cold. Cold and cramped. He hated it.

The minutes seemed like hours. All was silent. Too silent. It was almost deafening for the young man.

Atlas never knew how much time had passed. His whole body hurt. He was shivering, his lips most likely blue by now. He knew he was stuck here. There was no escaping it, so all he could do was sit there. Sit in the darkness and wait. Wait for the sweet release of death. Something inevitable by now. He knew he was going to die. 

Yet he smiled. He smiled and laughed. Atlas laughed the hardest he had laughed in a while, tangling his fingers in his hair. Though he was smiling, tears were falling. This was not happy laughter. This was not a happy smile. This was the sight of a man hitting the last straw. Of a man breaking. 

Though he wasn’t dead yet, the man was gone. Far gone.

Too far gone to think rationally. Too far gone to feel anything properly.

As his laughter dies down, the man rests his head against the wall. It was cold. The whole freezer was. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care. The cold of the freezer was the last thing on his mind while he was on the brink of death. The pain of his ankle wasn’t on his mind either. He didn’t know what he was thinking of. He was just thinking. Thoughts swarmed around in his head, though none of them could be picked out. None of them could be separated from the others. They were loud, yet silent. Clear and fuzzy all at once.

The man shifts his position and lets out a shaky sigh. Upon doing so, he saw someone. A figure. A woman. Plump and short, hair a mix of grays and brown, eyes a dull yet beautiful shade of blue. Despite the darkness of the freezer, he could make this woman out very clearly. Too clearly. Was she here? How did she get in? She didn’t have a key to the restaurant. Was she here to save him? Was this a hallucination?

“Atlas.”

Atlas stared at the woman, softening a bit. He teared up because he knew this woman. This was his mother. This was the last time he’d see his mother. This was a hallucination. He was dying.

“Mama…” He spoke softly, his voice shaking. He felt like a kid. A scared kid. A kid who wanted more than anything to simply be held by the very woman who raised, clothed, fed, encouraged, supported, and comforted him all his life. 

But he couldn’t get up. 

And she wouldn’t move. 

Atlas could make out the features on her face. She wasn’t happy to see him. She didn’t care about his situation. She wasn’t here to save him. The woman he admired all his life wore a face of pure disgust as she looked down at him as if he’d been something repulsive stuck to the bottom of her shoe. As if he’d been something one would find in the garbage. 

“Why…? Atlas… what did you do?” The woman asked, not once moving from her spot. Not once bothering to look around. Not once bothering to unlock that door. 

She looked so warm. 

And he was so cold.

“What was right,” Atlas spoke through gritted teeth. Despite everything. Despite what he had gone through, he still didn’t feel remorse. “I don’t regret none of it, either. It was for family. I did it for you, Mama. For you.” 

The woman glared at Atlas through her beautiful blue eyes. She never glared at anyone. Her heart was much too big and kind for it. Seeing his mother glare down at him like he was nothing but a burden her whole life made Atlas feel a few emotions he didn’t want to feel.

“You did not do it for me. You did it for yourself. You’re a selfish, evil man. This was not who I raised you to be.”

“Ma-”

“Don’t. You do not get to call me mama. You do not get to apologize. I can’t believe I ever called you my son. I can’t believe I ever cared for someone as sick and twisted as you. I can’t believe I let you open this restaurant. You are broken beyond fixing. You lost the privilege of calling me mama. I refuse to call you my son.” She pauses, then stares directly into Atlas’ eyes.

“You are nothing to me.”

Her voice, as cold and harsh as the temperature of the freezer itself, cut through Atlas’ heart like a knife. His breathing hitched as he rested his head on the wall of the tiny freezer. Everything was quiet. The woman that had talked down to him had disappeared, leaving Atlas alone.

It was almost time. He knew it was. And he couldn’t do anything about it. He never said goodbye, never hugged his mother one last time, never saw his brother, never visited his father. As he rested his head against the wall, memories floated through his mind like, distant yet still there, like a forgotten tune. Fuzzy memories of him and his mother baking cookies for the family every Christmas, or him and his father working on his car for the first time.

His body felt weightless as the cold suddenly stopped. He wasn’t scared anymore. He was at peace. He was gone, and he was done suffering. Everything would be okay. He was done with the pain. He closed his eyes and let himself feel the sweet release of death.

Then, a strange feeling in his stomach was noticed. A jolt. A sudden movement.

He was falling.

[ask-the-badman]

“Well, I may or may not have already got somethin’.” I said smugly, reaching into my bra to pull out an old switch blade. Pearly white with a little gold button in the middle. I hold it up to let him see, showing it off to him. “It’s not much but least it’s fast. Could walk right by someone and stick ‘em without ‘em even noticing.” I chuckled, a sly smirk playing on my lips. “I like to think that I’d hardly be looked at as a threat.” I added smugly. Leaning onto both of my elbows as I stretch my legs out into the grass, my head drifting back to soak up some sun that’s beaming down from above us.

“Come to think of it, I’d say if I was to have met you in a different setting, say at the bar on one of your huntin’ sprees you probably wouldn’t suspect lil ole me.” I teased. “Short, sweet, well behaved.” I remarked. My voice smoothing out into a softer tone, head tilting up just a little to watch his reaction. But I quickly turn my attention elsewhere, changing the subject.

“May just be gettin’ a big head, kinda like someone I know. How the fuck did ya get like this anyway? Some hoodoo voodoo shit Sissy cooked up?”

"Well well, so ya do." Johnny smiled with amusement, pleased that Kat had already picked out a weapon for herself, "I was actually gonna recommend ya a switchblade or somethin' like it, but it's a good choice. Perfect fer concealin' and quick ta use, long as no one recognizes the sound yer golden."

He continued to smile softly to the other thinking they could have caught him off guard, "Perhaps, though at the same time ya might have been prey. All cute an' sweet, I'd take ya fer an easy target, but at the same time I like a challenge~"

"Heh, apparently what happened ta me is somethin' Sissy could only dream of, but nah. Offered up some corpses an' my cold room fer a bit ta get this big, don' ask me how though. A stranger gave me this offer an' I, of course, took it. Mostly jus' ta see what it's like, how it feels~" He chuckled while rolling onto his back with arms behind his head, "Feels like I'm king'a the world. Ain' no one could stop me, too bad I can' do much with this though..."

[batterygarden]

more bf Denji hcs

m.list

Afab gn reader; one small sex mention mdni , college age

He loves going to the park. And riding bikes and climbing trees and playing in snow—doing all the things he didn’t get to do in childhood due to his circumstances. You guys will go after dark to “avoid all the pesky kids gettin’ in your way,” as Denji puts it. You always end up on the swings, Denji trying to go super high to see if his foot can touch a nearby tree branch. He’ll ask you to sit on his lap while he swings since “it’d be better if we could go high together.” Then you immediately tumble backwards on top of him. 

Denji has to be taught the art of doing independent activities side by side. It’s just that everytime you walk in a room he’s all over you, he wants you to talk about what you’re reading, he wants you to paint his nails at the same time as yours, he wants to help you figure out your taxes (in theory). Parallel play has to be explained to him twice and slowly before he begins to understand. “Different activities next to each other…got it… but can we still be, like, touching?” 

Now he’s the king of playing video games with your feet on his lap and asking you real cutely if it should be “parallel play time” whenever you’re about to do something he deems boring. 

Denji comments more quickly and enthusiastically than any of your friends on your Instagram posts. “Aaaaauuugh you don’t know what ur doin to me😮‍💨😮‍💨”  “My jaw dropped so fast! 🤤🤤” “so GEORGUS!” “Took 🤲 my🧍🏼‍♂️breath🌬away🙊!” 

Revisiting the playing in snow thing, Denji originally hates winter. Old prejudice from having poor heating as a child. But once you introduce him to hot cocoa and building snow men and the extra cuddling it warrants, winter becomes his second favorite season (after spring). Askin’ you to take him sledding, holding hands in your pockets, ice skating—you name it, he is down. 

He’ll still find himself a little bitter on the first snowstorm of the year though. “God it’s cold. I think my nipples mighta just got hard.” “Fuck ooofff, Denji. But actually mine too.” “Wait really!” Then he’s grabbing at your chest to feel before you can stop him. 

He’s unbelievably touch starved. He always wants to be closer, he wants to be disgustingly close, he wants to be breathing the same air and sharing a single shirt at the same time close. So Denji is laying directly on top of you any chance he gets. 

He especially likes when you play with his hair, he thinks it’s cute how gentle you are. So when he doesn’t have you in his arms or when one of you isn’t suffocating the other full-body-style, Denji’s head will always find its way into your lap. He doesn’t have to ask before your fingers are combing through his messy strands, moving them out of his face and smoothing them over before they resume their permanent position over his forehead. It’s incredibly calming to him. 

But don’t think Denji won’t return the favor—he wants you to find his presence as comforting as he finds yours. So he becomes an expert on soothing physical touch; he observes what you like and what calms you down and he uses the hell out of it. Rubbing your back and massaging your hands at any opening, holding your shoulders when you seem anxious, moving your hair out of your face if it seems like it’s in the way. He’s not shy about PDA so his hands are all over you whenever you need them no matter the time or place. 

He’ll also reciprocate what he knows he likes back to you. He knows he likes his face on your chest so he’ll pull your face down to his. He likes his hair played with so he’ll carefully try and comb yours when you get out of the shower. He likes when you share your food so he’ll always offer you to try some of whatever he’s having. He likes when you cook for him… he’ll try to cook for you too. It’s a disaster but it’s the thought that counts.

He’ll definitely ask you to teach him to cook better. Food is a love language he wants to give, not just receive! He’ll put on your apron and ask you to walk him through it, tongue in his teeth while he stirs and pours and chops. It ends up more of a mess than it’s worth in your opinion, but he’s so proud you eat as much of it as you can with many compliments.

Speaking of compliments… this man Lives for praise. Please, please tell him you’re proud of him. It’s sweet the way he’ll take your advice on things and tell you all about it afterwards, blatantly begging for a kiss and a “good job!” Sometimes he’ll wait to tell you about his daily accomplishments till you’re cuddling at night, so it’ll be easier for you to hold him extra close and applaud his heroic efforts. Maybe you’ll even shower him in kisses like he’s not-so-secretly begging you to. 

Despite being perpetually horny, Denji manages to literally Never creep you out when it comes to sex stuff. 

He’s just so genuine and honest about it. It’s never a hidden motive; if his horniness is motivating him you will be the first to know. He is shameless when he’s trying to pipe and you know and trust that.

It still will catch you off guard sometimes though. You’ll be sitting on his lap each going on your phones, doing any casual activity that you’ve done together a million times before when he drops a “can we fuck rn please” and things pick up from there.

Denji loses whatever semblance of a filter he has when it’s just the two of you. You wouldn’t think that tiny handful of inhibitions he possesses would make that much of a difference when they’re gone, but they do. For example, letting you know every time his balls itch :(

Or he’ll make a real thoughtful face towards your tits for the longest time, then perk up saying “oh my god! You’re done with your period huh!” 

Denji will always answer any question you ask him truthfully, too. 

“Honestly… No, I don’t really vibe with your parents. I don’t know like they’re kinda weird.”

Denji will try and pick up your hobbies!! He will he will he will! Anything to spend more time with you. 

For example, painting. He really ends up liking painting with you. It’s cute how he turns from goofy and playful to serious artist mode once you two get into it, he really concentrates to try and make his work look good since he‘s always so impressed with the way yours turns out. He tends to sell himself short when it comes to artistic ability, but Denji’s actually so creative and capable; you always keep and cherish his paintings. 

He wants to get a tattoo ever since you mentioned how cool one of your mutual friends looked with their tattoos. But you’re the voice of reason, “Noo Denji I’m sure you would look hot but wouldn’t your regeneration make it pointless? Like what if you drink blood and your skin just ge-“ “You’re totally overthinking it. If it went away I’d just get it re-tattooed everytime. And now that I know you’d find it hot I gotta get one. Maybe somethin’ that reminds me of you…” “…” 

You’re eventually able to convince him to save the money and unnecessary pain and let you draw on him from time to time instead.

He does not know the lyrics to any songs and he will not attempt to learn. That’s all fine and good. But he still sings along to whatever’s playing constantly!! God it is your biggest pet peeve. The final straw before confronting him was singing “woman of fire” instead of “warm enough for ya” to Drew Barrymore by sza :/

link to denji sucking tits drabble mdni >:0

link to sassy bf denji hcs

m.list

Send csm asks or requests if u want!

[bokuroskitten]

Draken HC's that made my teeth rot.

𖤐 Shut up, no one read these. They’re soft as shit and honestly, a lil ooc?? But I don’t care HSJWHJ it’s for me 😌 I caved and posted these strictly for Kenny lovers. Will I add to it? Porbably. Will I make an NSFW one? Duh.

𖤐 Warnings: you’re gunna have a heart attack cause these are so soft and stupid and gross. Honestly don’t even read this. Pass it by. You don’t need it it’s fine

Putting 18+ MINORS DNI just cause I don’t want ya here. Go away. Shoo.

He wakes up first not because he wants to, but he has to for work. Some mornings when he’s feeling a little too sleepy and grumpy he’ll pull you up against him

His palms rest over your tummy, his nose is pressed into the back of your neck, face lost in your hair

Only squeezes you tighter if you try and squirm away, will mimic your whines too

“Quit whinin I’m fueling up.”

Once he finally gets up, he tries to be quiet for your sake but he has a heavy step and doesn’t even realize it 💀 man stomps like he’s 400 pounds. So you’re up up before he leaves

If you’re awake enough he’ll ask you to braid his hair before you leave, if not he’ll put it in the ponytail <33

Doesn’t make you breakfast per se but makes you a coffee (how you like it, of course. He’s memorized it but won’t admit it) but he does cook you eggs cause he claims you always break the yoke

Fucking loves the weird little trinkets you collect him even though he stares at them blankly when you give them to him

Find flowers for him? They'll be on the shops reception desk till they die <3

You buy him a cute lil kitty keychain, one that matches the one on your phone? It’s on his motorcycle keys

You give him a cute little hello kitty sticker? It’s on his helmet

You make him a bracelet with bright coloured beads? He’s wearing it to work and Inui feels his wrath if he makes fun of it

Really likes when you can come into the shop to eat lunch with him

Especially if he’s dealt with shitty customers, your cute smile and little wave is enough to get the grin back on his face

You ramble when you eat but he’s completely silent, nodding along to what you say

Only speaks up when you choke

“Goofy, you’re gunna choke”

Wipes food from your face with his napkin or uses his thumb 🥺

Will mumble something like “messy” or “use your napkin” but only when he feels like flustering you

when y’all are in public, he keeps his hand IN UR BACK POCKETTT 😩

And if you don’t have a pocket he likes interlocking pinkies <333

Man has a natural resting bitch face and when you call him out like

“Kenny, you’re scaring ppl…”

“M’not even doin anything”

So many fucking forehead kisses my LORD he can’t even help it. Y’all are waiting in line somewhere, he’s looking at your phone screen over your shoulder? Expect a forehead kiss. He’s getting up to use the restroom during dinner? Gives you a forehead kiss. Hello’s and goodbyes? Forehead kisses. Period.

You FaceTime him a lot when he’s at work and he answers every time like

“😠 hey. You eat yet? What, yea my days boring— did you eat yet?😠”

Sometimes he likes to watch you do your makeup, cause he really likes the concentrated looks you make when you do your eyeliner or when you do pretty eyeshadow

It’s so fucking cute sometimes it even makes him blush a little, tips of his ears going pink first

Rubs his thumb over your pouting lower lip in literally any situation. If you're pouting while y’all are playing around he’ll push on it a bit with a grumble. If it’s cause you’re asking for something he’ll smooth his thumb over it once before tapping the middle gently. “You’re so spoiled…”

The boys tell him this, that he spoils you. He’s like 🤨 obviously she is? Why the fuck would I not spoil her?

Call you little love (shut the FUCKUP—)

Once he notices your blushing/getting flustered he will grin, continuing what he was saying or touching you a little more.

“Oh yea? That’s gettin to ya huh? M’just complementing ya baby…”

Rests his chin or cheek on the top of your head all the time 🥺

OKAI LISTEN HSJBSSJ you know that tiktok of the guy talking in baby talk to his girl and then he realizes he’s being filmed and his voice goes all deep and he’s like “ayo delete that shit”

TGATS DRAKENNNNNN

HE BABY TALKS YOU. I KNOW IT

Holds your purse/backpack/shopping bags for you <33

He buys you specific stuffed animals he knows you want or knows you’ll like

Tries to act cool about them when he buys them before work and keeps them in the shop

The boys: “what is that thing?” Him: “oh it’s a squishmellow—“ “a what…?” “Ah— I dunno it’s a plushie alright—“

He rolls his eyes when you ask him to take pics with you, cause he doesn’t really like selfies, but he still does that little smirk of his you love to see in every pic <3

Very much likes to take pictures of you though

Has to ask you though cause he kinda feels bad not asking?

“Hey babe, can I take a picture of you right now? You look really pretty”

This one he doesn’t even mean to get you flustered he genuinely means it

He only has one really serious rule, he has to open the door first. He doesn’t trust a closed-door, cause he never knows what might be lurking on the other side. So he always opens the door first, always.

HANDSY DRUNK HANDSY DRUNK

hand on your hip, low on your hip. Kisses to the corners of your lip and on the backs of your shoulders, murmurs of how sexy you look in your dress, pulling you into his lap when at a bar stool, pulling you back further into him when you grind on the dance fLOOR—

Has a tendency of knowing what you need before you tell him

“Baby? I bought you tampons today since you’re getting your period soon— no i don’t think you’re moody, it’s cause you’re having cravings dork.”

Super respectful when he meets your parents. But he does still swear sometimes and every time he does he’s like “shit— sorry” 🙃

Speaking of periods he lays his head on your tummy and rubs it when you have really bad cramps

Also offers to massage your back or feet or whatever makes your muscles less sore

His gold chain has your name engraved on it

He only has one other tattoo other than his dragon tattoo, and that’s a little heart tattoo you both have on your ring fingers

Is the type to come up behind you and scare you just to snort when he hears you squeal, but also the one to cover your eyes when a scary commercial comes on cause he knows it scares you

Even though he’s way too long for the bath he likes taking baths with you, it’s just relaxing. Even though his legs stick out I'm--

Plus he loves washing your hair. Sure he loves when you wash and run your fingers through his, but it’s just— washing your hair is one of the best ways he can show he cares about you 🥺

Buys the cheesiest store brand birthday cards 😭😭 and same with the vday ones

One of his favourite things that you do that he literally LOVES is when you trace the lines in his palm. Using the tip of your fingers so gently as you follow his lifeline across his palm

“Baby, your lifeline is kinda short…”

“Oh yea? Well how long is yours?”

“Hmm… longer.”

“Impossible, it’s gotta be me keepin your goofy ass alive.”

Property of ©bokuroskitten. DO NOT REPOST ONTO ANY OTHER PLATFORM‼️ Reblogs, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated

[mkakki]

Wholehearted Pt. 2

continuation of the previous one!

You found that kneading dough was better than therapy. The steady rhythmic rolling of your shoulders, the soft springy texture, and even the slightly sour smell of the yeast. It was something to keep you preoccupied, but without enough stress that you didn’t need to worry about hurting yourself. You felt a soft little nudge in your abdomen and smiled absently to yourself. 

“How much longer do ya think you’ll wantin’ to be here?” Osamu peered around the corner at you, face betraying what his mouth wouldn’t say. He didn’t think it was a good idea for you to be helping out in the kitchen for now. He said it was too hectic, with too many sharp things and not enough communication. What if someone spilled boiling water? What if you slipped? He rounded the corner as you stretched for a bowl to place your dough in to proof, hands beating yours to the shelf above your head. 

“Seein’ as you can’t bake for the life of ya, I’d figured I’d finish what I started.” You didn’t pause in your ministrations, rolling the dough into a ball before putting it into the bowl and covering it. Only then did you turn to plant flour covered hands on his chest, undoubtedly leaving handprints. You grinned up at him, and he gave you an exasperated look. 

“Shouldn’t you take a break? I could make ya a snack if ya wanted.” He smoothed his hands along your sides, head lowering so he could press an affectionate kiss to your forehead. Then a large hand came to rest over your abdomen, and with the fact that your heart had been skipping beats, the insistent nudging became more pronounced.

“I’ve been here for all of 20 minutes, yer gonna make yerself go gray with all of this worrying.” He huffed, brow creasing. “I’ll call yer Ma if I need too.” 

“Well sue me fer wantin’ ya to be careful.” You pressed a kiss to his jaw, lips curved into a smile. He smelled like the restaurant, and a tinge of the laundry detergent you used. He couldn’t suppress the little shiver that quaked his shoulders when you continued, pressing more careful kisses along his neck. You knew you had him where you wanted him when he heaved another heavy sigh. 

“I promise that once this is done I’ll go do something else. You should go finish your prep though. It’s gettin’ late.” He pulled you into a proper kiss, eager and wanting, arms bracketing your waist. You weren’t lying, the two of you typically showed up pretty early to make sure prep work was done, but you had to put it off this morning. Thankfully Osamu was able to assign the opening tasks to an employee. Though you still had tasks that could only be done by the two of you. 

The ultrasound scans were tucked away safely in your purse, pictures having already been sent to Tsumu via text. You’d show Samu’s Ma later on when you met her for lunch. 

Your heart still soared from the memories. The doctor had promised a healthy baby, and Samu had been bawling like a baby himself. Though he would be loathe to admit to it. You continued smiling to yourself as you worked through whichever desserts needed to be fulfilled. Samu knew better than to argue, he really couldn’t make a cake to save his life.

Your nose wrinkled at the pungent smell of something undeniably burnt, eyes watering from the smoke. You didn’t even need to set foot in the house to know that something had gone horribly wrong. Tsumu stumbling out of the front door, coughing and choking was evident enough. He threw himself at you dramatically, seeming as if he were trying his hardest to cough his lungs up.

“Samu’s lost it! He’s tryin’ ta kill us all!” Your brow quirked, unsure of what Tsumu could be dithering on about this time. It was no secret that Samu liked cooking. Maybe a new recipe went wrong?

“Samu. Tsumu is out here bein’ a big baby. What happened?” You toed your sandals off in the entryway, blinking your eyes as they watered from the acrid smell that hung in the air. 

“Nothin’ you need to worry about!” There he was, covered in what looked like coco powder and boyishly disheveled. He used the bulk of his body to prevent you from going any further, obviously not wanting you to see the kitchen. 

“Oh come on Samu, can’t be that bad. Maybe I can help.” If looks could kill, you probably would have been dead ten times over. After knowing him for so long it did little to deter you, and you easily ducked under his arm. The kitchen was a warzone, dishes stacked in precarious piles. Smoke still curling up from the stove. There was a cookbook open on the counter promising an easy recipe for chocolates that were guaranteed to impress your lover. Samu’s face was burning a furious shade of red as you surveyed the disaster. 

“Told ya to not bother with it,” he grumbled, ears burning red. You rolled your eyes and began to open windows in hopes of airing out the kitchen a bit. 

“Stupid Samu, since when did ya think you’d be able to make something sweet?” You began to clean up the kitchen, not daring to peer too closely at the smoldering pot on the stove. It might be best to just buy a replacement with what pocket change you’d be able to scrounge together. Enough family’s had you babysit, you’d be able to help Samu avoid death. 

“He didn’t want ya ta see,”Tsumu taunted, seemingly recovered from his near death experience. Samu looked positively murderous as he started off after his brother with a rolling pin in hand. You sighed heavily, and ignored them in favor of doing what you could. Even if emotion formed a knot in your throat.

Was there someone that Samu was trying to impress? Was he making chocolates for a girl he liked? 

It left a bittersweet taste in your mouth, one you couldn't blame on the acrid taste of smoke. 

“Ya shoulda just asked ya big ol idiot.” When Samu returned, rolling pin no longer in hand, he had the gall to look ashamed. 

“I thought it’d be easy.”

“Serves you right, stupid scrub.” You wanted to pry him for information. Maybe it was Mitsuki, she knew what to do around boys. The advice she had given you was good, but you didn’t have the same easy grace that she did. You blamed the Miya twins for giving you bad habits. 

“Tsumu’s the stupid scrub!” 

Satisfied with your work, you passed the rest of the instructions off to an employee, knowing that soon enough Samu’s Ma would be here to whisk you away. You always met with her and your own mother for lunch. They were able to ooh and ahh over baby updates, and you managed to calm some of Samu’s worry by being somewhere safe. Though there were ever only a handful of places you went.

“Nobody said ya could go back there, ya stupid scrub! Employees only!” Raucous laughter boomed into the kitchen, startling the poor girl who was assisting you with trays of baked goods. Tsumu’s bleached head ducked into the kitchen, Samu hot on his heels. You heaved a sigh, already untying the knot of your apron. Samu had lovingly added extensions to it, despite your insistence that you didn’t really need them. You were thankful for the extra space now. Tsumu expertly rounded the table you stood at to hide behind you and pull faces at his brother. Samu began to look murderous. 

“Don’t even think about it, ya big ol’ buffoon. I’ll sick Ma on yer sorry ass.” Tsumu laughed again, planting a large hand on the crown of your head. A habit of his since you had been kids. 

“Ya really think I’d ever do anythin’ to hurt my little niece or nephew? Samu you dumb scrub.” You rolled your eyes, shoving his hand off in favor of comforting Samu who was still seething. After a few soft brushes of your fingertips to his jawline, he relaxed slightly. For as much shit as he gave his brother, you knew Samu trusted Tsumu with his life. 

“Nah but I know how stupid you are.” Samu looked smug as you made a move to grab your things, stepping neatly between the two. 

“C’mon Tsumu, quit pesterin’ yer brother. Since yer in town to visit you can come to lunch with us.” The bleach blond dared not to fight you as he followed dutifully after, tongue stuck out petulantly at his brother. Samu ignored his taunting, instead turning to press a kiss to your mouth. You ignored the gagging sound that Tsumu made in the background. 

“Osamu quit yer poutin’ and come take a picture!” The Miya twins, along with you, were all dressed up. While none of you found much worth in a school dance, your mother’s had other ideas. They swore up and down that you would only get one chance, so why not give it a go. 

“M’ not poutin’” he muttered, scowling all the while. Tsumu on the other hand, looked positively giddy. He had embraced the idea of getting dressed up in a suit, and had even gone along to help you pick your dress. Samu though, resisted every step of the way. Now that the three of you were getting ready to leave, it seemed as if his sour mood had reached a peak. 

“Quit bein a baby and smile for yer Ma.” You elbowed him sharply, never letting your picture perfect smile falter. Tsumu hammed it up on your other side. He gave you a sidelong look, mouth pressed into a thin line. 

He didn’t reach his boiling point until Suna had asked you to dance, seeing as he had also been roped into attending by his own mother. 

You abandoned the dance halfway through with an apology when you noticed Samu stomping angrily outside, rudely turning away from a girl who was trying to ask him if he would dance with her. Anger flashed hot in your veins as you chased after him, only slightly impeded by your fancy footwear.

You managed to catch up to him just barely, yanking his arm unceremoniously. 

“What’s yer problem, Samu? You made that poor girl cry!” He flung around, eyes narrowed into angry slits. Your own chest heaved with angry, grip only tightening on his arm. “Yer bein’ an ass, and ya have been for the last two damn weeks! Now out with it! What’s yer damn problem, Samu?” 

“Yer my damn problem,” he snapped, which sent your angry spiraling. Just like a flashfire, you felt it fizzle out. As your eyes began to water, Samu already looked like he regretted opening his mouth. Your hand dropped, and you took a step back. 

“Me?” You tried to figure out what could have upset him so much. You didn’t eat his snacks or copy his homework. You didn’t push him when he showed displeasure about the dance. He looked devastated.

“Yer my problem. Showin’ up lookin’ like that, and then dancin’ with everyone else.” He tried to reach for you, mouth screwed up painfully. You were backpedaling, hurt already settling deep in your gut. 

“What kinda nonsense are ya spewin’?” He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. 

“It’s hard ta watch ya be so in love with my brother when I’m so in love with ya.” You found yourself reaching for him reflexively, stomach doing funny little flips as color transfused your face. Whether it was from the cold, or from the precarious way your heart was trying to beat out of your chest, you weren’t sure.

“In love with a scrub like Tsumu? You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Your hands came to rest on his face, pulling him into a clumsy kiss. The first time you had ever done anything of this nature, so it was too much teeth and a bit awkward. 

Samu didn’t seem to mind. He held your hand all the way back to the dance, and the two of you swayed together off in the corner of the gymnasium to your own song, perfectly content. 

Half asleep Samu was one of your favorites. He laid, head on your chest, fingers trailing softly over your belly. At this point you felt stuffed to the brim with love, and with a baby. Samu found no greater pleasure in life other than doting on you though, and you were forever grateful seeing as you could no longer tie your own shoes comfortably. 

“We should get up soon,” you sighed, making no move to follow through on your statement. Samu grunted, continuing to run his fingers over your belly. He left goosebumps in his wake. 

“What do ya think? Should we get up?” The baby responded with a movement of some kind, but it only reaffirmed that you needed to get up. 

“Gotta pee Samu, c’mon.” He was up before you, already helping you scoot to the edge of the bed so that you could swing your legs over without incident. Before you could escape he pressed a lingering kiss to your mouth, lips slotting against yours easily. He smiled into the kiss, clearly enjoying the way that you involuntarily clung to him. 

By the time you padded back out, he was preparing breakfast for the two of you. The biggest perk of him being him, he never failed to satisfy every craving you had. No matter the absurdity of it. You winced as you sat down at the counter, which had him quirking a brow in alarm. With as close to you were to delivering, the doctor had said that you would start experiencing false labor. 

It wasn’t until you were three bites into the delicious breakfast he painstakingly prepared that you were caught off guard by pain. 

“Hey Samu, I think it might be time.” You were a little breathless, pain increasing as the contraction took hold.

“Time fer what, darlin’?” His face paled when you let out a shuddering breath, along with it, your waters breaking.

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

What if Delphia had a cold and had to let other people take care of her for a change. Let her rest with some soup, while Rick draws her a warm bath 🛁

omg i love this soft moment for them. thank you so much anon!

If I Go Universe - Take a Sick Day (Rick Flag x OC)

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 611

Warnings: fluff, rick flag being an absolute softy for one dee holman, sickness stuff

Timeline: September 2021

if i go masterlist

"Babe, I'm fine, I'm fine," Delphia insisted as she continued to puts around the kitchen, unpacking boxes.

They had just finished the move from Louisiana to North Carolina, and it had been a stressful month of packing and phone calls and keeping everyone from the Task Force in line. It was starting to become clear that all that stress was catching up with Delphia.

"Dee, baby girl, you sound like Donald Duck right now," Rick replied as he watched her with his arms crossed, "You're not fine."

Delphia squatted down to lift another box of dishes. "I just need another shot of dayquil and a lozenge and I'll be right as rain."

She stood up with the heavy box, practically throwing herself against the countertop in order to set it up there right. But with the exertion came white spots dancing in her eyes and the feeling that she was going to tip right over - like a babydoll with a head made of heavy plastic.

"Okay, okay." Rick caught her easily and righted her. "You're done - you're done."

"I said I'm - " she tried, but Rick was having none of it.

"Nope, it's time for you to rest."

Without another word he lifted her off her feet and carried her out of the kitchen, towards the stairs, bridal style. She fought him for only a moment more, then she seemed to go limp in his arms. Her head fell against his chest as she let out a tired sigh - the fatigue finally taking over.

"Okay, fine," she grumbled.

She suddenly felt very, very tired. And she supposed that was what happened when you worked nonstop for months on end. Cooking for seven people, cleaning, packing, moving pretty much across the country. The stuffed-up sinuses and sore throat were a surprise though - one that she had been attempting to ignore away. But alas, it seemed it was all finally crashing down on her as Rick set her down on the edge of the bed.

"No fever," he commented as he squatted before her and felt her forehead with the back of his hand, "How's a hot bath sound? Maybe some tea?"

Delphia grunted in a way she hoped sounded affirming. Yes, she wanted that.

"Oh, God - she can't speak. Somebody call an ambulance!" Rick called playfully over his shoulder before standing back up to his full height.

She laughed, "Shut up."

"I'll run the bath." He smoothed a hand over her hair and brushed his thumb over her cheekbone, grinning when she leaned into his touch, "You work on gettin' undressed - kay?"

"Okay, baby."

It felt like a huge effort to peel each item of clothing off as she listened to Rick working in the bathroom. Heard him grumble about which box they had packed the bubble bath in and his noise of triumph when he finally found it. Once she was fully undressed, she wandered into the bathroom to the sound of the roaring tap.

As soon as the bath was filled with warm water and practically overflowing with bubbles, Rick helped her over the edge and she lowered herself under the surface with a deep sigh. It felt amazing to her sour muscles and the steam rising from the tub was already working to clear her nostrils at least a little bit.

Rick moved to leave, go downstairs and start working on finding everything he would need to make her some tea, when she stopped him with a wet hand around his wrist.

"Thank you for taking care of me" she whispered, voice still hoarse even at that level.

"Always, baby girl." He tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "Always."

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installments just let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings @ocfairygodmother @reysorigins @hawsx3

[fific7]

Evil Twins - Part 3

Billy Russo & Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Summary: When two worlds which have already collided then collide with yours - that’s an explosive situation.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with quite a lot of lemon zest 🍋 My Fantasy Punisher/Shadow and Bone crossover AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Slightly questionable consent to begin with. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

Your head bumped slightly against the corner of the kitchen cupboard and this brought you back to reality. What did you think you were doing? You pushed Billy away roughly and stepped quickly away from him. He looked bereft but you ignored that, saying, “Okay, Billy - enough. I don’t know what I was thinking!” You picked up some of the crockery and went to the dishwasher.

Billy lounged back against the sink, arms crossed, long legs spread, contemplating you.

“That you were enjoying it?”

You huffed, “So what if I was? But it really wasn’t a good idea.” He smirked, “You don’t really believe that.” He pushed himself off the sink unit and headed back to the living room, saying over his shoulder, “To be continued, sweetheart.”

You clattered the dishes around, loading the dishwasher and mentally beating yourself up for giving in to your baser instincts, when you heard Aleksander’s voice in the other room.

“What are you looking so pleased about?” You heard Billy make a relaxed stretching noise like a cat, and you could visualise him doing just that.

“Oh I dunno. What could I possibly be looking pleased about, huh?” “You…!” shouted Aleksander, and then you heard scuffling noises so you rushed through there. As you’d feared, Billy and Aleksander were rolling around on the floor, grunting and trying to punch each other’s lights out.

“Stop it!” you yelled at the top of your voice, but they ignored you. So you waded in, trying to separate them without success. Eventually you took to landing punches on them yourself. Both of them stopped wrestling and looked at you in surprise, and you took this opportunity to yell at them, “Get up! Stop this right now and get up!”

You all unentangled yourselves, standing up and rearranging clothes. They sat down on a sofa each, while you stood there glaring at them like a headmistress, arms crossed. “What is it with you two?! You’re like a couple of stags butting heads! And I’m not talking about your stupid amplifier!” you yelled at them and glaring at Aleksander. The two of them mumbled under their breaths and you said loudly, “What? What was that? It better have been ‘we’re sorry we make you act like our mum’ or something like that!”

They both laughed, exchanging glances, and you snapped, “This is no laughing matter! I’m sick of it. It’s like having two children around the place.” Billy composed his face into a serious expression, saying, “Sorry, sweetheart. But you must know that a mother’s the last thing we think of you as.” Aleksander nodded, “For once I agree with that idiot.” He looked intently at you, “We both want you, so that’s never going to end well.”

You felt your face pink up, “I’m not some snack to be fought over!” “Course you’re not, sweetheart,” soothed Billy, “but this idiot thought I’d slept with you so he lost his cool.” “Did not!” roared Aleksander, then his head swung to you, “You didn’t, did you?” “No I did NOT!” you insisted. “But she did kiss me,” smirked Billy. Outraged, you screeched, “You kissed me, if you recall!” Billy just kept on smirking and Aleksander launched himself across the coffee table, grabbing Billy by the throat and hissing, “Just as well for you I can’t use the Cut right now!”

“Oh for god’s sake,” you said, “just stop it, will you?” Aleksander stood up, huffing and smoothing down his t-shirt, sitting down on the other sofa again. “What’s the Cut?” queried Billy. “You don’t wanna know,” you said, “now I’m going to put the TV on for you children because I need to do some housework.” You heard a chuckle from Billy, “Yeah! You could put on a maid’s outfit if ya like?” You flipped him the middle finger, switched on the TV and went back into the kitchen.

You could hear a rumble of voices from the other room, and just hoped that war was not about to break out again. What the hell were you going to do about this situation? You had the feeling it was building to boiling point.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

When you emerged a little later having seen to your domestic tasks, you found the two of them sitting on the floor with your old Monopoly set open in front of them. Aleksander was poring over the instructions and they both turned towards you, “How d’ya play this?” asked Billy. You stared at him, “Now him I could understand but you? You’ve never played Monopoly?” His face fell and he shrugged, “No, they didn’t have it in the orphanage.” Immediately you felt terrible and you’d already said, “Oh I’m sorry, Billy,” before your brain caught up with your mouth and you added sarcastically, “I should’ve known you wouldn’t have had it in your fictional orphanage in your fictional childhood.”

His big dark eyes gazed up at you, “Might be fictional to you, sweetheart but it wasn’t to me.” Now you felt bad again, holding up your hands, “Okay, okay - I really am sorry, alright?” He nodded, looking back down and fidgeting with the little dog and top hat tokens. You joined them on the floor, “You two really want to play?” They solemnly nodded, so you whipped the instructions out of Aleksander’s hands, “Okay, I’ll explain it to you.”

Twenty minutes later, Aleksander huffed as he got sent to Jail again, reached over and grabbed a load of Billy’s houses and hotels and dumped them on his own squares. “That’s you all over, isn’t it?” sneered Billy, “you’re a loser but you can’t stand it so you just grab what you want, brother!” “Oh and you don’t, hmm brother?!” snarked Aleksander.

“Billy, Aleksander!” you yelled, then in your wisdom decided to add, “in fact I’m going to call you ‘Aleks’ as your full name’s too much of a mouthful for when I’m yelling at you!” Aleks grinned at you, “Or when you’ll be screaming it in bed.” Billy eye-rolled, “Like that’s ever goin’ to happen!” “Just watch!” “I don’t go in for watchin’!” “Well, that’s all you’re going to get a chance to do, little brother!” “Little brother!?? You were definitely second - after me!!”

By now, both of them had jumped to their feet and - surprise, surprise - were nose to nose.

You cradled your head in your hands. This was purgatory.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

She’d retreated back onto the kitchen to make another pot of tea, and peace had temporarily broken out between the two warring parties.

A discussion had begun, with Billy starting it off. “She’s gettin’ really pissed off with us.” Aleks nodded, “Yes, I know.” “So what’re we gonna do? She can’t exactly throw us out I know, but I’d like it better if she was lookin’ at us with somethin’ other than disgust.” Aleks nodded, then - quickly looking round to check she was still out of earshot, “Ah… I suppose we could share?” Billy’s head shot up, eyes staring into his twin’s, “Ya what?” “Share. We could share her. Separately… or together.”

Billy’s mouth dropped into an ‘O’. “Share,” he repeated, then again, “share? D’you think she’d go for that?” Aleks nodded. “She likes us, I can tell. We both like her, and that could be a problem - well it has been, hasn’t it? - but if we play it right, I’m pretty sure we can charm her into bed with both of us.”

Billy and Aleks sat looking at each other, satisfied little smiles on their faces.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Unaware that you were now the object of a peace treaty between the twins, you experienced some deja vu when carrying the tea tray into the living room. Both of them were sitting on the one sofa again, gazing up at you with unreadable expressions in their eyes.

You had the nastiest feeling that you’d missed something important while you’d been in the kitchen making tea. What had the two of them been cooking up between themselves? You plonked the tray down on the coffee table and looked at them suspiciously.

“What’re you two up to?” They shook their heads, innocence radiating off them, “ Nothing!” they chorused. Billy continued, “We just decided that we better stop pissin’ you off so much.”

You beamed at them, “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day!” You missed the significant looks exchanged between the two men as you placed the cups of tea in front of them.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed relatively peacefully, with only a few minor skirmishes between the two of them about whatever film or programme you’d put on to watch. And much to your surprise, you realised that they’d actually stopped arguing themselves without you having to step in. Well, that was an improvement at any rate.

For the evening meal you’d rustled up a ragu sauce, and as you didn’t have any spaghetti left you had to use farfalla. So sue me, you thought. Along with some garlic bread you’d heated in the oven, you dished up three portions and then pulled down your space-saving kitchen table, which folded up into the corner of the room when not in use. You got three chairs out of your walk-in cupboard and set them up round the table. “Dinner!” you yelled, and two tall figures came piling into the kitchen. “Mmmm smells great, sweetheart,” schmoozed Billy, sitting down and looking over to where the plates were on the counter. “It does, moi krasivyy,” said Aleks, not to be outdone.

You brought out three bottles of beer from the fridge. You’d almost got over the way food and drinks just replenished themselves as soon as you used or consumed something. Setting them down on the table, you popped the tops off them with the bottle opener and slid one in front of each of them. You noticed they were both looking at you with what could only be described as ‘heart-eyes’, and you squirmed uncomfortably under their gaze. “What’re you both staring at?” you demanded. “Perfection,” said Aleks. “Gorgeousness,” smirked Billy.

After the food had been eaten and beer bottles drained, amidst more effusive compliments about the meal the twins jumped up from the table and said that you needed to go and relax while they washed up the plates. “Thanks for offering, guys, but that’s why I’ve got a dishwasher.” “Well, we’ll load the dishwasher then,” insisted Billy. He took your arm and led you into the living room, “Sit down sweetheart, and just chill while we do the work now.” He gazed at you, and you saw that look in his eyes again - as if you were some kind of earth-bound angel or something.

Right! you thought, just what are these two up to???

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You sighed, leaning over and switching off your bedside lamp. The book you’d been reading wasn’t turning out to be quite what you’d expected. You’d hoped for a bit more… well, raunchier content, not to put too fine a point on it. In that respect, a nun could’ve read it and wouldn’t have blushed.

You’d wondered if you should read a fanfic or two instead - Billy Russo or The Darkling ha ha ha - but then you’d remembered that your wifi and mobile data weren’t working due to this ridiculous situation you found yourself in, so obviously whatever force controlled this… this portal?…didn’t want you contacting the outside world.

You’d fallen asleep quite quickly, laughing to yourself as you did that children were extremely tiring.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The dreams began shortly afterwards, and they were much more vivid than usual.

Your quilt was folded slowly back off you - the rush of cold air was distinctly noticeable - and your top and sleep shorts were peeled off you. You heard deep sighs but you didn’t know who’d made them. Then you were gently rolled onto your back, and you were aware of your mattress dipping down on both sides.

You felt warm skin against your whole body - it almost felt like you were surrounded - and it felt so good that you smiled.

“See! She’s smiling, I told you she’d be fine with it.”

In your dream your brow wrinkled, she’d be fine with what? And who said that?

You felt a tongue lick one of your nipples and a hand squeezed your other breast and then switched - the other nipple was licked, the other breast was squeezed.

You sat bolt upright in bed, and that’s when you realised that you were in fact wide awake.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

In the dim light coming through your gauzy curtains, you could make out two pairs of dark chocolate eyes staring into yours.

“Darling,” said Aleks.

“Sweetheart,” said Billy.

“You fuckers!” you screeched, looking down at your nude body and trying to cover up the relevant bits with your hands and by crossing your legs.

“Too late,” said Billy, giving you a small smile and nodding at your hands which you were still moving around to try and give you maximum coverage.

“We’ve had our hands and mouths on you already,” agreed Aleks.

“Yes and without my permission!” you snapped.

Billy reached across and put on the light. You jumped, feeling like you were under a spotlight, moving your hands about even more frantically. Then Billy’s hands were pulling yours down and away from your breasts.

“Hey!” you yelled at him, and tried to pull your hands out of his but he wouldn’t let go and he was too strong for you.

Now Aleks did his bit, pulling your raised and crossed legs down onto the bed, parting your thighs in your sitting position against your pillows, and then held your legs tightly in position on the bed.

Both men totally consumed you with their eyes, and you were powerless to stop them.

“Oh, darling… you are so, so beautiful,” breathed Aleks.

Billy whispered, “You’re stunning, sweetheart. Absolutely stunning.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“I can’t believe you two!” you were yelling at them, ignoring their compliments and lustful gazes, “Let me go!”

“But you know how much we want you, darling,” Aleks said persuasively.

“Just let us get it out of our systems and things will quieten down,” pleaded Billy, “well, a little bit anyhow.”

“I cannot believe you sneaked into my room!” you hissed, trying to get free from their restraining hands. “Let go of me. Now!!!”

But instead they slid you down the bed until you were flat on your back and then both heads dipped down to your neck, their mouths were on your skin, beginning to kiss and lick and suck.

“Get off me!” you snarled, still trying to get free but you were too firmly held between them - as if you were in a vice. “But we can make you feel so good, darling,” whispered Aleks next to your ear, Billy purring “Soooo very good, sweetheart,” next to the other one.

Then their attention moved slightly southwards. Billy changed his grip on your hands, grasping both your wrists in one big hand instead and pulling your arms up above your head, pinning them down onto your pillows. Aleks moved one of his legs across yours to keep you pinned, and then you saw their hands stealing onto your breasts, squeezing and kneading them before their mouths came into play. Their hands remained on your breasts but each nipple now had one of their mouths fastened onto it, and they began licking, kissing, sucking and biting until you squealed, squirming under them.

Desperately fighting to ignore how good their attentions were beginning to make you feel, you burst out, “Stop it!” but neither of them did. In fact they both stepped up their attentions, biting and licking your nipples and the skin surrounding them until you could hear yourself beginning to gasp uncontrollably.

You caught a look and a nod being exchanged between them, and both of them sat up on their knees. Billy was still holding your wrists and Aleks used one of his knees to keep your leg pinned. Unable to avoid looking at the two lean bodies in front of you, you saw two rampant cocks lying up almost against their stomachs and much to your disgust, you felt a tumultuous wave of arousal wash over you.

They are two very well-endowed boys, your traitorous mind said into your ear. And exactly the same size! - truly twins, it giggled at you. Oh shut up, you silently answered it and get me out of this situation! Of course now it did shut up.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“Sweetheart,” said Billy, cupping your cheek and suddenly kissing you, tongue thrusting into your mouth, breaking away for a second to say, “We’re gonna take real good care of you now.” He went back to kissing you, and you heard a whine from Aleks, “I want to kiss her!” Billy sighed into your mouth and lifted his lips from yours. “Okay, bro,” he said, “all yours. For now.”

Aleks crashed his lips onto yours, his teeth clashing with yours until he calmed down a bit and wasn’t quite so desperate. His tongue slid into your mouth, not quite as assertively as Billy’s but still pretty forceful. You could hear him making little “Mmmm” sounds as he kissed you then he sat back, stroking your lips. “Taste so sweet,” he smiled down at you, “your lips are so soft.”

Aleks sat up on his knees again and as he did so, you felt Billy’s body lay down fully on top of you and he rested his hard cock just for a moment between your legs. His hands took hold of your hips and angled you upwards ever so slightly, then you felt just the head of his cock rubbing against your core. Wetness began to gather and you tutted, trying to squirm away from the insistent teasing, but Billy just chuckled and moved his cock along with you when you managed to move slightly, still rubbing at you.

Aleks’ thumb went to your bottom lip and he gently pulled it down further, opening your mouth to him. He leant over and licked both your lips, sucking on them gently then pushing his tongue inside your mouth. Now he was hovering over you, his erection brushing your lips, the tip starting to edge inside.

Okay, okay, okay, your slightly panicking brain chanted. This was happening. Really going to happen. They were both going to take you right now.

You weren’t 100% sure how you felt about it.

Angry that they were just going to have you whatever you said about it. Excited because they were both very hot, very sexy guys.

But whatever your feelings on the matter, it was inevitable - that much was obvious.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“I promise I’ll make you feel like you’re in heaven, darling,” you heard Aleks say and then Billy chipping in with, “An’ I promise I’ll make you scream my name, sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes, waiting.

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@aleksanderwh0r3 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @s1xthirty @tartiflvtte @slythvoid @edithsvoice @paracosmenthusiast @mizelophsun11 @eroda-harry @theshadowkingsqueen @kestrafagnor @thelightinmyshadows

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[arrowflier]

Tomato and Basil

Daily Speedwrite.  This wonderful image by @mikcrymilkovich came across my dash again this morning, and I decided it was a nice fluffy topic for the day.

“Mickey, I’m home!” Ian called as he kicked the door shut behind himself.  He hefted a canvas tote in one hand, reaching up with the other to catch his straw hat by the brim as it threatened to slip off.

“Mickey?” he called again, and was met with a crash and a muffled curse from the kitchen.

“Fuck, I ain’t cleaning that up—in here Gallagher!”

Grinning, Ian made his way to the kitchen, dropping his burden on the counter and sneaking up to wrap freckled arms around his husband from behind.  Mickey relaxed back into him, letting his head loll back for a moment against Ian’s shoulder before returning his attention to the pot he was stirring on the stove.

“Mmm,” Ian hummed, running his nose along the skin behind Mickey’s ear before stooping to hook his chin over the other man’s shoulder.  “Smells good,” he commented.

“Yeah?” Mickey asked, stirring counterclockwise with the wooden spoon he had stolen out from the house kitchen right under Debbie’s nose.  “Thought we’d try somethin’ new, it’s this sauce Jill said she swears by.”

“Oh,” Ian responded.  “Yeah, that smells good too.”

Mickey dropped the spoon to rake a hand through Ian’s hair, then shoved him away with a palm on his forehead.

“Fuckin’ sap,” he murmured, but Ian knew how hard his husband was fighting to keep his lips from twitching up.

“Ey, you bring the stuff?” Mickey asked as he picked up the spoon again.

“Of course,” Ian answered, grabbing that canvas tote and pulling out the requested items.  “Got our first round of tomatoes right here,” he said as he revealed the ripe red fruit, “and some oregano from the next plot over.”

Mickey spun around, face bright.  “Ooh, some of that green stuff I liked?  You steal it for me?”

Ian sighed, pretending to be put out.  “No, Mr. Sticky fingers, I asked very nicely if Mrs. Whitman would mind trading me some.”

“Trading?” Mickey’s brow furrowed.  “You givin’ away our vegetables again, man?”

“I’m not giving them away, Mickey, I got something in return,” Ian corrected.  “And tomatoes are a fruit, not a vegetable.”

Mickey snorted.  “Fuck that.  If they were a fruit,” he said, stepping forward to poke a finger into Ian’s chest, “then you could make a smoothie out of ‘em.”

Ian grabbed his finger and used it to tug him closer, until Mickey was effectively pressing him back into the counter.  “I had a tomato smoothie once,” he reminisced.  

Mickey’s voice was low when he responded, eyes on Ian’s lips.  “No you fucking did not.”

“I did,” Ian insisted.  “It had kale too, though,” he said, wrinkling his nose at the memory.  “It wasn’t very good.”

“See?” Mickey murmured.  “That’s ‘cause they’re both vegetables.”  He ran a hand down Ian’s side, leaning in.  “Don’t belong in smoothies.”

“Fine,” Ian gave in.  “Believe your lie.”  He moved his head forward just enough to breathe out against Mickey’s lips as he spoke.  “You know what is good with tomato, though?” he whispered.

“What?” Mickey asked breathlessly.  His eyes fluttered closed, his head tilted in preparation, and then—

“Basil!” Ian yelled, pulling back.

Mickey’s hand left Ian’s waist to make a frantic shushing motion.  “Shut up, you idiot,” he hissed, grabbing at Ian’s arm as the taller man walked away and further into the apartment.  “He just settled down!”

“Oh Basil!” Ian called again, giggling at the way Mickey fell over himself trying to stop him.  He ended up pushed against the back of the sofa, Mickey’s hand over his mouth, when the telltale click of nails on the wooden floor informed them that silence was a moot point.

Mickey groaned, and Ian laughed, licking Mickey’s hand to make him let go.  Mickey turned to lean back with both hands on the frame of the sofa while Ian hurriedly knelt down on the floor.

“There’s my boy!” he announced happily as a tiny grey pup waddled toward him on shaky legs.  It slipped on the smooth floor in its excitement, and he scooped it right up, letting it cover his face in wet puppy kisses as it nearly wriggled out of his hold in glee.

“See what you’ve done now?” Mickey asked plaintively.  “He’s gonna be underfoot while we’re cooking, you moron.”

“Come on, Mick,” Ian said.  “Don’t pretend you don’t sneak him bits of hamburger when I’m not looking.”

“Not the point,” Mickey muttered behind him.  “And what’s with the name, anyway?” he continued, louder.  “You weren’t supposed to name him, we’re just watching him for a few days ‘til they find a place for him, remember?”

“Sure, Mickey,” Ian agreed.

“Just don’t go gettin’ attached,” Mickey told him, “I don’t wanna deal with you pouting when he leaves.”

“Of course, Mickey,” Ian agreed again.

“Now go feed him since he’s up,” Mickey demanded.  “And make sure you put water on it, he gets dehydrated.  And his vitamin is on the table, with his harness, so take him out after.”

“When did we get a harness?” Ian asked as he moved to do as instructed, sharing a secret smile with his canine companion.  Basil just licked his nose and wagged his tail some more, whole body moving with the effort.

“Grabbed it this morning while I was out,” Mickey answered absently.  “He pulls too much, he’ll choke himself with that damn collar.”

“Mmhmm,” Ian hummed.  Then he sniffed the air and made a face.  “Mickey, did you turn the stove off?”

“Shit!” Mickey yelped, pushing himself off the sofa to run back into the kitchen, where the sauce was boiling over and burning against the heating element.

Ian finished taking care of little Basil while Mickey cursed and tried to save their dinner, then grabbed the leash and harness from the counter.  He slipped the dog vitamin into his pocket to use as a bribe to get Basil back inside.

He dropped a kiss on Mickey’s head as he carried Basil toward the door.  “Be back in a minute,” he said, and Mickey nodded distractedly.

“Hey, wait!” he heard as he opened the door to leave, and turned to see Mickey’s head and upper body poking around the kitchen wall.  “Don’t let him near those azalea things, he keeps tryin’ to eat ‘em.”

Ian raised an eyebrow.  “Azaleas?”

Mickey shrugged.  “Yeah, those pinkish flower things,” he explained, scratching at his neck with one hand.  “Looked ‘em up, they’re fuckin’ poisonous.”

“Okay, Mick,” Ian assured.  “I won’t let him pull, and I’ll give him his vitamin, and I won’t let him eat any azaleas.”

Mickey nodded.  “Good,” he said shortly, disappearing into the kitchen again.

Ian left and shut the door behind himself, placing Basil on the ground so he could sniff around as they went down the hall.  Sure, Mickey, he thought.  They’d give Basil back in a few days.  Just like they had given the apartment back.  Or the garden plot.  Or the recipe book from the old lady down the hall.

Stopping to wrestle Basil into his harness before they went outside, Ian decided to stop by the store the next day and get him some new tags for his collar, too.  He was going to need them.

[ruewrites]

Thrones are Built on Lies Chapter 11: Cracks in the Surface

AO3

Ship: Solomon/Asmo, Diavolo/Lucifer

Word Count: 4075

Warnings: None

A/N: We gettin closer to the coronation babyyyyyyy! As always, comments are appreciated! If you wanna reach out and talk or invade my inbox as well you are more than welcome to!

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Solomon had never cooked by himself before.

Solomon had never been in a kitchen before.

When you were royalty you didn't need to cook for yourself, you had people to do it for you. So here he stood, in the kitchen, when no one else was around, staring down the vastness in front of him. He clapped his hands, illuminating the kitchen and grabbed the first pot he saw.

Cooking couldn't be that hard right? All you had to do was mix some things into a pot and hold them over a fire. Easy.

Rummaging through the cupboards and pantry was an interesting adventure. Solomon was familiar with some of the foods and spices, but others were completely foreign to him. He did manage to find the beef which he grabbed in two handfuls to throw into the pot. Surely that was enough right? Now that his hands were sufficiently covered in residue, he went towards the vegetables and spices.

Honestly, this cooking this was rather fun. Perhaps he could start doing it more often. It might give him more points with his new family. He could be alone with his thoughts and the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board below him.

Which reminded him, he needed to find a blacksmith. Surely there must be one in the main hub.

Solomon only added water when he realized that the food may burn after it sat in the pot for a while. It tasted fine from what he could tell, and he was contemplating eating some of the food when he heard someone come down the steps.

"What are you doing?" Asmodeus asked, gracefully descending the staircase into the kitchen, "It's so late."

"I could be asking you the same question," Solomon smiled, lifting a bit of his creation to his mouth with a ladle.

"I was actually on my way to see you, but I wanted to check to make sure Beel wasn't about to sneak anything from my wedding."

"Our wedding."

"You're acknowledging it's yours now?" Asmo's voice came out a bit shocked, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Of course, it is ours is it not? As for what I'm doing, I figured I'd try my hand at cooking to earn a little more favor with your family," he turned back to the pot, stirring it a little more, and scratching along the bottom to unstick some of the food.

As he did so, Asmo's slender arms snaked around his waist and his head rested gently on his shoulder. It wasn't like his vice grip grasps in the past. Thus one was gentle and, dare Solomon say, fond. His old self would be surprised to see himself relaxing into Asmo. His old self would have never pictured him this comfortable in another's grasp.

"It is ours," Asmo said softly, gently squeezing Solomon's waist. Solomon found his free hand moving downward to squeeze one of Asmo's. Slowly he brought the ladle from his pot up to Asmo's mouth, and his pretty lips opened to accept his offer.

Then he started sputtering. Arms quickly let go of Solomon's waist as Asmo turned away from him.

Solomon turned quickly on his heel to pat Asmo's back, "Did you choke?"

Yes, it was a dumb question. He realized that as soon as the words left his mouth. Of course he was choking. Was he really that poor at social interactions? He was a scholar, a great king, an incredibly intelligent man, and all he could come up with was 'Are you choking?'.

Spoken like a true gentleman. One that fell face first down a mountain only to be attacked by wild beasts that is.

"No," Asmo weezed, "What the hell did you do?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Solomon, darling, are you trying to poison my family?" he gestured towards the pot with disdain and attempted to right himself, "That is nowhere near edible! Did you eat that?"

Solomon blinked a few times, staring at Asmo as he pulled away, glaring up at him. He wasn't really sure how to respond. Surely it wasn't that bad. "I did, are you sure you're not overreacting a little bit?" he asked.

"Over-? No! Are you serious? You ate it?" Asmo gasped, grabbing at his arm, "I'm not even sure the meat is cooked through properly! Well now I'll have to stay with you for the night and take you to one of our healers!"

"But I feel fine," Solomon frowned, as Asmo tugged on him, "Why were you looking for me this late anyways?"

Asmo stopped for a moment before letting go of him in favor of cleaning out his pot instead. "Well, I was hoping I might be able to spend some time with you. I've heard your sleep schedule is terrible and I figured I could visit your chambers."

Solomon moved closer so that their bodies were inches from each other, "That still doesn't explain to me what you want."

"Well I couldn't sleep," his voice came out in a similar fashion as when Azazel spoke to him. It set off small alarms in his mind.

What had he gone through?

"And I figured that perhaps I could-?"

"Something tells me your brother wouldn't be too happy with that," Solomon said, leaning against the counter on the other side of him. Their rooming situation hadn't changed from when Solomon first arrived till now, and he figured with how protective Lucifer was of his brothers that it wouldn't until either after the two of them were joined or until Lucifer trusted him. The latter was a long shot and, at the moment, seemed like it would take more time than what Solomon possessed in a lifetime.

Asmodeus frowned. His eyes darted back and forth, trying to think of an excuse that might work, but the longer he thought about it the more he realized that he was right. "He wouldn't have to know," he tried to reason, "Diavolo might be able to talk him down."

"And if he can't?"

"Don't think about it."

Solomon could have laughed. Stubborn was a good word to describe Asmodeus. He knew what he wanted, and he wasn't going to give up easily. In that way, the two of them were similar. He couldn't even be mad when he felt himself give in.

"Alright then," as he spoke, Asmo perked up, "What is it that you wanted to do?"

"I wanted you to hold me," Asmodeus responded quickly, "I just, want you to touch me, just for a little bit. So perhaps you could come back to my room with me?"

Asmo went to grab his hand once more and gently tugged him towards him. His fingers brushed against the silky, flowy fabric of Asmo's night attire.

Solomon allowed him to tug him towards the staircase and down into the caverns. Asmo's room wasn't what he'd been expecting. Flowers and vines neatly crawled up his bed and to his canopy. Moonlight seeped into the room, illuminating bits of the bed and the floor. He stripped himself of his shirt, realizing that it had gotten a little dirty in the process of his cooking adventures, and slung it over the chair in front of Asmo's bureau.

When he looked up, he saw that Asmo's eyes were on him, tracing every line on his body. "You have a lot of markings," he commented, lounging on his mattress. He shifted a bit as Solomon settled next to him and once more let Asmo pull him closer. "Do they mean anything?"

Solomon waited for Asmo to cling to him first before touching him. He probably wouldn't be heading back to his room tonight, not with the way Asmo was clinging to him. It was almost like he was afraid Solomon would disappear if he let go. So, he slung his arm over the smooth curve of Asmo's hip. "They're runes. Ones that I've found interesting from books I've read."

"There's so many of them."

Solomon shuddered as Asmo slowly traced along one of the inked paths. It reminded Solomon of how he traced the runes back in the cavern. His own hands wandered up and down Asmodeus' back and along his hip, encouraging him to snuggle closer.

Warmth.

It was the only thing he could think of. It spread from his core and along every spot Asmodeus touched him. He swore he was in some sort of trance.

"You're always so cold," Asmodeus murmured, "I don't understand why, you're always wearing long sleeves. I thought you'd be warm."

"You're always warm," Solomon yawned, "And soft. It's very calming." He felt Asmo's hands trail from his chest, over his shoulders, and to his back and his long lashes fluttered against him. He flushed, feeling a bit hotter than normal.

Crickets chirped outside and the occasional hoot of an owl resounded in the distance.

"This is nice," Asmo murmured.

It was nice.

***

"Did he say how long it would take to get done?"

Simeon and Luke had both accompanied him into town. Luke trotted behind, scurridly writing down time stamps and what had been done at those times.

"Hopefully not too long," Solomon twisted a ring on his finger, "I'd really like to get it to him as soon as I can. Before the coronation, preferably."

If the universe would have the smallest bit of pitty on him, he would be able to present Asmo with the gift under the stars a few nights from now. It would be a proper way to give it to him, and an acceptable form of an apology. He just needed things to go smoothly.

Simeon kept his stride, not even daring to fall behind him. He could feel him analyzing him, looking over his motions in order to come to a conclusion. "I think he'll enjoy it."

How did he always know?

"How are you holding up back there Luke?" Simeon turned his head to look at his apprentice.

"I would like to slow down, it's hard to write and walk!"

"And that is why you're practicing now."

Luke huffed under his breath and Simeon craned his neck to look over the notes. He always enjoyed seeing where he could offer praise and note where he could improve. Solomon realized that Simeon had been doing nearly the exact same thing to him here in Arcadia. Had he intended to coach Solomon on how to be a good husband?

Sneaky.

Solomon sat down on the steps of the palace, not quite ready to return inside. It had been a while since he just enjoyed the sunshine, and the weather was perfect. New days, new beginnings. It felt as if he’d had two new beginnings since being here, and he was sure these wouldn’t be his last.

Soft warm hands laid over his eyes, and soft breath caressed his ear, “Guess who.”

Luke made a retching noise as Solomon reached for his hands, “Asmodeus of course. Those hands would be hard to not recognize.”

Laughter surrounded him as Asmodeus moved to sit next to him. He set a few pictures down in his lap. Simeon patted his shoulder as he passed them. He wouldn’t stick around when Asmo came and take time away from the two of them bonding, especially not when they’d been getting along rather well recently.

“Mammon said he saw you heading out to the market this morning, so I waited for you to come back.”

Oh his smile was contagious.

“I wasn’t even aware he saw me,” Solomon said, not minding when Asmo decided to scoot a little closer, “What had you waiting for me to come back?”

“I’d always wait for you to come back,” Asmo leaned in and his soft lips brushed against Solomon’s cheek, “But, I did want to show you my attire for our wedding.” He fingered through the papers on his lap, pulling out one from the center of the pile. It wasn’t quite a suit, but it wasn’t a dress either. It was pretty, and Solomon caught himself slipping into thoughts of how lovely it would look on him.

“I based it off my mother’s dress, I remember that I used to love looking at it.” Solomon had never heard Asmo sound so whimsical. He was somewhere else, and Solomon wasn't entirely sure where he went.

"I've never heard you talk about your mother before."

Asmo's eyes lit up, "Oh she was wonderful. She's the one who taught me how to sing. Don't tell my brothers, but I think she was the best mother."

"You all had different mothers?"

"Well, for the most part. Lucifer and Satan shared one, she was the queen, and then the twins and Lilith shared one," Asmodeus traced his wedding attire as he spoke, carefully and ever so precisely, "I don't think any of them got along well, each of them wanted us to be father's favorite even if Lucifer was the crown prince. But they only stayed in our lives up to a certain point, if they hadn't died in childbirth."

Solomon remembered his mother and his father. They'd both done their jobs and molded him into the ruler he was supposed to be, but he hadn't been ripped from them by another person. "I'm sorry."

It was all he could say, and he hated it.

"It's nothing you had any control over. At least I have memories."

He'd been so excited to show Solomon his plans and to continue their planning, but now the mood was completely changed. With hesitant motions, Solomon reached over to touch his hands, "What do you remember?"

"Her voice," Asmo started, "And the way she held me when she sang me to sleep at night. I remember her taking me to see when the twins and Lilith were born. I remember her explaining that Belphie was sick. I used to always want to help take care of him, and I still do even if doesn't want much to do with me as of late. I also remember how she used to kiss my forehead and tell me how everything would be okay. That I was perfect, no matter what father said"

Asmo sunk into Solomon, looking down at his lap as they sat together. Asmo played with his hand, flipping it around in his own, training along his fingers, and squeezing. "I miss being touched like that, feeling safe in someone else's arms."

Was he meant to hear that? Solomon almost missed his words. Carefully, he slipped the papers out from under Asmo's hand and looked over the designs. "I bet she would have loved to see you in this. I didn't know her, but I think she'd be proud."

Asmodeus squeezed his hand a little tighter and it made Solomon relax. The words had felt awkward tumbling from his lips. But luckily it seemed like he'd said the right thing. "If yours looks this wonderful, I'm excited to see what mine will look like," he continued.

***

They weren't the only two scrambling to get preparations done. Servants were running inside and out decorating the palace for Lucifer's coronation, under Barbatos' watchful eye. He'd been seeing more and more of the crowned prince's stressed expression as he, Diavolo, and Azazel had been spending much of their time in the main hall. Azazel had assured him in passing that they would still have time for their regularly scheduled meetings, but they hadn't been lingering on Solomon's mind as of late.

He had other things to focus on.

He also had some internal things to sort out.

His opinions and feelings surrounding Asmodeus had started to change. That much was evident. Yes, he was still high energy and hard to keep up with at times, but he was also incredibly kind hearted. Solomon had always been physically attracted to him, that hadn’t changed. Something else had started to bubble up inside of him though. It was a feeling that was unfamiliar to him. It started in his core and spread up into his cheeks and made his chest tighten.

He didn’t dislike it, but it was a new feeling, one that reminded him of how Asmodeus felt.

“Mammon, sit still.” Azazel’s voice was harsh, but the sound of the wooden rod swishing at Mammon’s shins was harsher. He yelped and pulled his legs out of the way and straightened his posture. All of them had been lined up in the main hall. Despite having his own seat, Azazel was wandering up and down the row, eyeing up each of them. As soon as Mammon had been reprimanded, he couldn’t help but note how Levi had scrambled to fix his own posture. The room was tense, and Solomon was trying to keep his own composure.

Who would have known that a coronation rehearsal would be so intense. His coronation rehearsals hadn't been this strict. Then again, Solomon was also an only child.

Asmo’s fingers twitched as he stole glances towards him. Touch meant something to Asmo, and Solomon knew he wanted to touch him. If only he could indulge him in this moment.

“This coronation will be a momentous occasion. Not only will the crown be passed on to Lucifer, but it will also be the precursor to a new kingdom joining us. We are putting the end to an era, and entering a new age,” Azazel placed his hands on the back of Solomon’s chair, a wide grin spread across his face, “It’s a time for celebration. I think it’s also fair to say we could allow ourselves to loosen up a little.” His gaze glanced towards Belphegor and then to Asmodeus, his smile faltering, “But I expect you to look like the strong rulers you are, even if adjustments need to be made.”

Asmo flinched, but Azazel moved away from him and towards Belphegor, “This also meant that you shouldn’t wear your mourning attire. It’s a joyous occasion! Act like it.”

“Says you, I say when I’m done mourning.”

All eyes shifted down towards Belphegor, who was refusing to look at Azazel.

“Your father would want you to enjoy the moment.”

“My father is not the one I’m mourning,” he snapped, “Since all of you have forgotten, Lilith is still dead.” He threw a pointed look towards Asmodeus, “But I suppose I’m the only one who cares that our little sister is gone.”

Silence pierced the room. Lilith hadn’t been brought up all that much since Solomon had been there, and he hadn’t really brought it up. It was like glass, and every time her name had been mentioned, a long crack appeared in the smooth surface.

“Just like the youngest of the family to get hostile when he’s told that he can’t do what he wants,” Azazel’s tone was even but filled with venom. Each word had been punctuated.

A little bit of life flared into Belphie’s eyes as he stood up. Honestly it had been the most alive that Solomon had ever seen him. He stood face to face with his uncle for a moment, before turning briskly and leaving towards one of the corridors.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

“Somewhere where the memory of my sister won’t be insulted.”

The door slamming echoed through the room and ended the conversation. Beel went to follow but Azazel cut him off, “You’re not going anywhere. He can throw his temper tantrum on his own.”

“Actually, I think we should end here today. Productive practice will not come from a situation like this,” Lucifer stood and Diavolo followed, looking a bit more concerned, “We can continue tomorrow.”

Azazel nodded curtly, but Solomon could tell he was struggling to hold his tongue, “As you wish.”

Asmodeus also went to stand quickly, he’d been so focused on Belphie and Azazel’s confrontation, that he hadn’t noticed that Asmodeus had turned away. Solomon felt that he should have followed him, he wanted to follow him, but Azazel caught his shoulder.

“My brother wasn’t happy with them for a reason,” he growled, “Of course, they all have their little flaws, but I have no doubt they would have ruined the crown if they’d been allowed to interact with him too much. It only takes one bad egg to ruin the bunch.” His gaze wandered over towards Diavolo who tried to strike up a conversation with Asmodeus and a few of the remaining brothers to try and lighten the mood. Beel was missing.

“I told him the twins should have been separated as well, he would be so disappointed to see how soft his descendants are becoming. Hard work is going down the drain.” Solomon barely felt Azazel let go of him, and he almost didn’t realize that he left. He was standing alone from the group, he felt like a stranger again.

Until Diavolo looked at him. He offered him a smile and waved him over, and those feelings started to ebb away. He couldn’t help being drawn into the group with Diavolo’s charismatic smile.

“I can’t believe it’s almost time, it’s like the days didn’t even exist,” he said as Solomon took his place near Asmodeus.

Lucifer nodded in agreement, “Life had seemed to go rather quickly lately.”

“And all of your brothers are going to play their own parts,” Diavolo brought their attention towards Asmodeus, who seemed to perk up a bit from earlier, “And Asmo will be singing, just in case he hadn’t told you.”

“I was going to tell him,” Asmo hummed, “I just hadn’t found the right time yet.”

“And he hasn’t heard you sing yet,” Diavolo shot a look to Lucifer who nodded.

“You are correct, he hadn’t heard you sing Asmodeus.”

Solomon had never seen Lucifer look this calm this close up. He was almost afraid to ruin the moment by speaking. Perhaps Diavolo did have some sort of magical abilities, but he did admire their relationship.

Maybe it was possible for good things to happen in arrangements like this.

Maybe he’d been a little too pessimistic in his views.

His eyes shifted back towards Asmodeus, who was already looking to meet his eyes. A soft finger went to interlock with his own. “Look at you two, putting so much pressure on me.”

“Yeah, if ya flub up, you might lose your fiance and embarrass yourself in front of all sorts of people,” Mammon cut in, poking at Asmo’s nose.

“Oh puh-lease, you should be focused on making sure none of your golden decorations are dull. No one likes underwhelming decorations,” Asmo bounced back quickly. He was witty. Perhaps it came with the territory of growing up with so many siblings, but Solomon still liked it nonetheless. It was endearing, and added to the growing list of things that Solomon had started to enjoy about him.

“Oi! I make sure none of my babies are ever dull! You watch your tongue!”

“And my voice hadn’t failed me yet, so maybe you should watch yours.”

His mother had been a singer too.

Had he learned from her?

Or was it something he picked up to carry her with him.

Regardless, music must have been important to Asmo. Solomon was positive that he would sound perfect. If he had learned anything about his fiance in the time he’d spent here, it was that he strived to be perfect. After all, he’d done so much to garner Solomon’s attention, even when he hadn’t been there for him, even when he’d been terrible. He still promised Solomon perfection, promised that Solomon would fall in love with him.

Maybe he was right. Maybe Solomon was falling in love with him. From the way he went to cover his mouth when he laughed to the way his eyes crinkled upwards ever so slightly when he smiled. He had a wonderfully melodic laugh, one that Solomon could listen to for hours. He was witty in his responses and graceful in his motions.

He’d still hold him later when he asked. Solomon had seen how bothered he was during Azazel and Belphegor’s confrontation, and Solomon wouldn’t mind helping him take his mind off of the entire situation.

After all, he was trying to be better for Asmodeus, because he deserved better.

For the first time since coming to Arcadia, Solomon genuinely felt like he belonged.

For the first time in his entire life, Solomon thought that he might be falling in love.

[oftenderweapons]

Mold Me New (6) — Taehyung

A Small Town Swoons Story

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (nicknamed Frog)

Wordcount: 3.7k

Genre: ceramic artist!Taehyung, divorced!reader, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, sliht angst, Slice of Life

Rating: suggested 18+ for future smut

Hello to my readers!!! Welcome to the Small Town Swoons Universe!🥰✨

In this episode: Frog and Taehyung are gettin closer and closer. As they both face their most vulnerable moments since they met, finding comfort in each other's arms.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: kissing, mild swearing, allusions to smut. Taehyung suffers from tendinitis in his hands after he worked too much. Frog talks about the end of her marriage and her approach to attraction, mentioning that she could be demisexual. About this specific point, the discussion is very short and doesn't focus on details, but THAT doesn't absolutely mean that demisexuality isn't a large and delicate topic that should be disucssed in depth, it only means that the character is growing in that direction and that she'll eventually educate herself more about that topic.

Once more I'm thanking Rid (aka @taegularities). We're in this soft sh!t together 🤍

In case you like my writing, here is my directory for idol!AUs, scenarios and imagines. And in case you need it, here’s the Spotify music companion.

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

Enjoy 💜✨

Entering the studio was mind blowing. It looked like a garden of statues.

Sitting on the floor was Taehyung, using his elbows and forearms to wedge a large body of clay.

“Tae?”

He looked at you standing in the doorway, smiling at you almost apologetically while you were entirely shocked.

“Why are you wedging with your elbows?”

“Tendinitis.” He still smiled like his fingers and palm didn’t feel shredded by thorns.

“For god’s sake, Tae!” You made your way to him, feeling like a cat trying to slalom through an endless field of obstacles. “Baby,” you murmured, crouching down next to him, tutting and fussing once you spotted how messed up he was.

He had clay in his hair, on his face, all over his apron. “Babe.”

“I wanted to create.”

You held his face in your hands, kissing his forehead over and over. “How long have you been here?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s five o’clock. Like all of our lessons,” you reminded him, wide eyed, shaking your head.

“I’ve been here since four.”

You closed your eyes and exhaled. “Tell me you mean four in the afternoon.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. Of yesterday.”

Your face contorted in disappointment. “Get out of here!” You helped him up, clicking your tongue once you noticed he was barely able to hold himself up on his knees.

“I just stayed in the same position for too long,” he whined at your stern look.

“This cannot do, Taehyung,” you scolded him, before blocking his face, which was aiming at the crook of your neck. “No cuddles. We need to clean you up first.”

He pouted as you got rid of his apron quickly. “How aren’t you tired? Look at the floor! How can you even move in here, Taehyung!”

“Don’t call me by my full name, it scares me,” he objected, puppy eyed. “And your lesson?”

“We’re postponing that. Have you eaten at least?” You stared at the floor as you led him to the large sink.

He followed you as your hands held his hips. He liked how you touched him, and he loved how comfortable you looked doing so. Once he stood in front of the sink, you grabbed some soap and foamed it up, holding his hands and running them under the water, covering them in bubbles and getting a small groan out of him. “This will teach you a lesson,” you mumbled, intertwining your fingers with his and rubbing them together. “Does it hurt?”

He shook his head before leaning his head against your shoulder while you stood behind him. “It feels better with you.”

You couldn’t hold yourself back from placing a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Let’s clean up your pretty face.”

Still, he tried to deepen the kiss, chasing you, hoping you’d let it slide. “You think I’m pretty?”

“You’re not just pretty. You’re scandalously good looking. You’re disgustingly perfect.”

He smiled and tried to turn. He wanted to plant his face against your chest and feel your digits massaging his scalp. He also wanted to feel you naked against his skin, but that was far from any sexual motive: he simply wanted warmth, closeness, affection. He wanted softness and intimacy. “Can we cuddle now?”

“You still have half a kilo of clay on your arms,” you replied as you took it off with gentle strokes of your palms, adding more soap to make sure no dirt was left.

“Can we cuddle after that?”

You nodded, nuzzling your nose into his hair. “We can do anything you want.”

He lowered his face to the faucet and cleaned it up, washing away the smear of dried up clay on his cheek.

“You should shower, darling,” you said, grabbing a paper towel and dabbing it against his wet face. “Or we could wash your hair.”

“Are you staying over?” He looked so hopeful, so entirely enamoured. You could barely resist him.

“I stayed over last week. I’d feel a bit out of place,” you replied shyly, trying not to feel conflicted. On one side, you felt like you were taking advantage of him, on the other you longed to caress his hair and kiss his nape until he fell asleep at your side. You also wanted to wake up with his hair tickling your chest as he gave you tiny kisses all over your neck and throat, exploiting the warmth and softness of that special spot for a gentle wake up call.

At the beginning you had worried about staying over on that first night, after dinner and… and the couch thingie. You slightly feared the thought that sharing a bed somehow meant pressuring each other into a type of intimacy neither of you was ready for. And then, a week after that fatidic rendezvous, he had asked for you to stay the night and sleep — just sleep — together. He had been extremely clear about his intentions, declaring them after dinner as you were lounging on the sofa once more. You had watched a film, made out, calmed down, washed up and headed to bed, where he had clung to you until his breathing turned into a delicate huffing sound.

You had barely resisted tears once you noticed he tended to pucker his lips in his sleep, his cheeks becoming fluffier and rounder. He had an adorable baby face.

“What if I wanted you to stay, though?” Taehyung murmured, giving you a dubious look. As he noticed you hesitating, he added: “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to stay. It would be on the same terms as last time. I’m not pressuring you or anything I—”

Finally you gave up. Maybe his presence would help you. “Okay.”

He grinned, “I should shower then.”

“You want me to cook something as you wash up?”

His eyes got wide and glittery before he kissed your cheek. “Yes, please.”

“What should I make?”

“I like anything in the fridge. Do as you please,” he replied before you moved your head in confirmation.

Once in the house, you headed for the kitchen while he immediately hit the shower. He wanted to be away from you as little as possible. Most activities were painful, like grabbing bottles and massaging his scalp and basically anything that required him to grip and strain his hand muscles and tendons. At a certain point he entirely gave up on his hair, washing his body and getting out of the shower, drying up and wearing a pair of boxers and loose pyjama pants.

“Frog?” he called from the door.

“I made bruschetta! Bread, sliced cherry tomatoes, it’s in the oven,” you answered.

“Can you come here?”

You quickly lowered the oven temperature and reached him.

You inhaled brusquely once you noticed his lean, smooth torso naked, little droplets of water still glistening here and there. “Could you wash my hair? I can’t really use my fingers much.”

You nodded silently, inhaling as you took in his chest. He looked so beautiful, his chest lithe and well-built, his tummy holding a millimetric curve, flat but not muscled. You liked it a lot.

“Shall we?”

Silently you followed him, watching as he bent down over the sink and opened the tap to further wet his hair. You noticed the bottle of shampoo and squeezed a small amount on your palm, watering it down and beginning to energetically scrub his scalp. “This okay?”

Taehyung hummed in reply, turning his head to the side a little to offer you a better angle. “Very okay. Actually, fine. Ideal.”

You smiled.

It took you a bit more time than you thought, mostly because you were a bit distracted. “Are you sleepy, sweetheart?” you asked once you managed to finish, helping him stand up straight and drying his hair haphazardly with a towel.

“I’m so caffeinated I can barely think straight,” he murmured, purring once he noticed the way you were still looking at him. “Frog. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

He cupped the back of your head before he leaned to your face, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and forcing you to unseal yours, his tongue sliding in sinuously, his other arm pinning you to him. “Like you really want me to do this.”

Once your back hit the wall, his warm body contrasting with the cold tiles against your spine, you realised you needed to slow down. “Tae. Dinner,” you reminded him.

“Sure,” he unglued you from the tiles. “Do you even want me to put a shirt on?”

You shook your head and smirked. “You sure are a smooth mess.” His eyelashes looked magical from this up close. After almost three months of knowing him, you still wondered how he could be so absolutely perfect, and so real.

“Is that a yes or a no?” He cocked an eyebrow, adding a mischievous grin on his face.

“It’s definitely a yes, you tease!”

After dinner you decided to go for your usual shenanigans and headed for the living room, finding yourself a little dumbstruck when you noticed a large sculpture on the coffee table, which had been moved out of the way and to a dry and cool place. The structure was as large as your upper half and, as you switched on the lights you recognised exactly what it was. The torso was still drying, as the colour showed, and for a second you asked yourself how it would ever dry. It would of course hold water in its core, causing the structure to fail and break. And then, it would never fit in his kiln.

“You like it?”

You turned towards Taehyung. “What material is it?”

“Modelling dough. It’s made for large structures. It dries in a couple hours.There are about ten layers latched on a metallic structure. It’s modelled after you.”

Your eyes widened. “Is that why your hands have been acting up?”

He looked away in a manner that told you that yes, that was the very reason.

“Do you have a balm or something?” you asked, trying to fix the mess he made.

He left the room and came back with a glass jar. “Arnica gel smells very bad but works fine.”

You took your place on the sofa, patting the spot at your side to invite him there. He joined you in a nanosecond, placing the jar on your lap. Methodically, entirely caught in your thoughts, you opened the lid, got some lotion on his palm and began rubbing the pressure points on his palm before turning to the back of it and tracing the tendons energetically.

His relieved groan echoed into the room before he let his head fall on the back of the sofa.

The massage went on for a bit, the motions so mechanical that your mind started to wander until you eventually said your thoughts out loud.

Having him to assist had calmed you down enough that you felt ready to reflect over your worries.

“Today is my wedding anniversary. Or it was.” You kept staring at your digits digging into his flesh. “I don’t really know how I should talk about it.”

Taehyung, though looking like a lazy feline, was actually paying close attention to your words. “How was it, being married?”

You shook your head. “At the beginning there was a lot of emotion and companionship. And then life carried us away from each other. Like two leaves scattered in different directions by the wind.” Your explanation was something that had become a truth to you: at the beginning you had tortured yourself with understanding why and how it had happened. And then you had accepted the blatant way of things: separation.

“Are you scared of it happening again? That companionship to separation process?”

You shrugged. “Not really. If people drift apart, then maybe it’s because they were meant to be together for a while before they could venture towards different destinations.”

Taehyung moved closer to your neck, to get impossibly nearer. If he could, he would have crawled underneath your skin, to inhabit you like a squirrel does a tree. He wanted to build his nest in your heart and sing all his favourite songs to you, and from you he would never, ever part.

He knew he was letting himself romanticise the affection and comfort he felt for you, however, he couldn’t find anything that made him disappointed with you, or that annoyed him. There were small things here and there that made him question your approach to life, but your grounded self was the kind of roots he needed to drift in the wind and let everything surprise and amaze him.

You were his anchor and he was so infinitely glad to have met you.

“How do you feel about the whole marriage thing? Do you still believe in it?” His voice was incredibly velvety, like a mother’s caress, a lover’s glance.

You pondered your emotions and sensations. “I believe I do. I mean, it’s not like I think I failed something or love is a lie and all of that. I’m just trying to understand the… the ground rules—” You took a pause, trying to explain yourself. “Like, the foreword, you know?”

He listened and let you talk.

“What makes a couple fit for marriage? And then, what is marriage? I need it to be more than just a bunch of paperwork and legal duties. But maybe it’s just that.”

Taehyung rubbed his naked foot against yours. His feet were freezing. Plus it felt funny to test the smoothness of your calf with the sole. He wished the two of you could cuddle under the sheets, talk until the larks would start singing and thin rays of premature sunshine would start lighting up the dawn and stream into the room, colouring your face with a greyish halo before it turned pink, and then orange and then deep red for the briefest minute until bright yellow settled in.

He wanted to study the colours of you bathed in any type of light, any shade and palette that would come with the passing hours.

“I think I want more than paperwork and formalities too. It's a promise after all. You're officially telling your beloved that you will be by their side forever.”

“As someone who betrayed that promise, I don't think I can see it from that point of view anymore.” You exhaled before he placed an arm around you, almost sitting on your lap as he offered you his untreated hand.

He frowned. “It’s not like you betrayed it. You honoured it. It might say ‘till death do us part’ and all of that, but the biggest promise is to be at each other’s side, to find happiness and support and comfort in each other. You realised you couldn’t hold on to each other anymore and you let go.” He kissed your cheek. “Your right to happiness is way greater than a promise neither of you wanted to keep anymore.”

You found refuge in his hair, sniffing it gently before letting your eyelids lower. “I’m afraid I’ll break future promises, too. Sometimes I ask myself how I could keep one.” You felt incredibly calm as he started delivering gentle pecks from your temple to your ear to your jaw, the sound of his lips disclosing in quiet pops slipping into silence as he lost the excuse of kisses and started simply skimming your skin with the smooth petals of his mouth.

“You will not be alone keeping it.” He drew a line with his nose, from your cupid’s bow to the middle of your forehead, where he placed one final kiss. “It’s a shared responsibility. You won’t need to go all the way. The right one will meet you halfway, and they will be willing to go a bit farther on the days you can’t reach, just like you’ll be willing to take a few more steps on the days they’re not feeling good. It’s a compromise, and the border moves and melts.” He hummed as you kneaded the base of his thumb between your own thumb and index. “At least that’s the way I like to imagine it.”

You would meet him halfway. And you would reach for him, on days like this, when you need him and he needs you. And you would walk a bit more when he’s tired and worried and afraid, just like you knew he would come for you.

“I think it really works for friends too,” Taehyung mused. He looked at you. He wanted to meet you halfway, and renovate that promise day after day after day. One day at the time, as long as you loved him. And then he would let you go, not without trying to fix the distance between the two of you. “Sometimes the difference between lovers and friends confuses me.”

You looked at him and blinked. “Well, I would never do anything sexual with a friend. I would with a lover, though.”

He nodded and hummed as he reflected. “So I should call you my lover?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Sure, if you’d like to.”

“I’d love to.”

You smiled, a tiny chuckle parting from your lips.

“Once you said you don’t feel attracted to just anyone. What is it that makes you feel attracted to me?” Taehyung asked, genuinely curious.

You gave a small laugh. “You know all about me meeting my husband when I was a kid, growing up together, being with him, only him until we divorced and then some.”

He nodded.

“I think that made me used to being extremely close to my partner before being capable of perceiving any type of attraction. And even when I was with him, I didn’t ever think about anyone else. All people were just—” you thought about the right word. “They were only human beings to me. I couldn’t see them as somebody I could be attracted to, especially since I never got to know anyone as much as I know Terry and him. I think you’re the first one I want to explore.” You let go of his hand.

“Thank you,” he murmured before letting his back fall against the pillows, laying down and dragging you with him so you were resting on your side, your legs tangled up with his before you found your spot flushed against his side, his chest pillowing your head and your leg thrown over his hip. He wanted to comb your hair but he didn’t want to mess it up with the balm, so he decided he could simply draw circles against your arm. “What do you mean with ‘exploring’?”

You yawned as you felt relaxation wash over you. “I mean I want to take my time to get to know you. I’ve read somewhere that people who only feel attraction for those they have an emotional bond with are called demisexual. And somehow I feel I could identify myself with that, but I think I still have too many open questions to feel like I fully belong to that category.”

Taehyung felt blessed he could listen to your thoughts out loud. They felt so precious to him, like they could give him a way to understand you better. And the more he understood you, the deeper he fell for you. “You’re still so young, you have all the time in the world. Maybe you could talk to a therapist, or find some support through online forums. You know you have my full support.”

You softened and furtherly cosied up in his arms. “Thank you so much, Tae.”

“It’s the least I can do.” You felt his voice sweeten with joy and gratitude. “We take care of each other.”

He had become your solace, your reprieve, your second chance at happiness. Hopefully, your definitive one too.

You calmed down, trying not to rush things through, reminding yourself this had been the strongest, most unreasonable form of enamourment you could have ever thought of; nevertheless, you couldn’t deny the sudden lightness and warmth and fondness that invaded you whenever he peeked into your thoughts or appeared in your sight.

“However, yes, I feel attracted to you because I’m emotionally attached to you. I don’t know what this will become, or if it will evolve into deeper feelings, but it feels good to be your friend. And to be your lover too,” you continued delicately, trying to play it cool. “I just don’t know how long this sense of attraction will last — you know, because of this being an actual first time and me being afraid of making promises and not keeping them. For now I only know I want to know you deeper. And I want to be your lover.”

Fear crawled into his veins but he let the present reassurance comfort him. “It’s okay. It’s not like I’m experienced. We’ll just let ourselves feel whatever comes our way. The only promise I need you to give me is that you’ll allow yourself to feel everything life will give you, without being afraid.”

You stretched to press a kiss to his lips. “Okay. Can I count on you to meet me halfway?”

He nodded. “As a friend, as a lover, as anything you allow me to be.”

You kissed him again, your body relaxing even more. You couldn’t hold back another yawn.

“Let’s get you to bed. I don’t want you to fall asleep on the couch.” He traced your profile with the tip of his pinky. “Come on.”

As you laid in bed, your legs tangled together, you caressed his hair, watching his eyelashes fan against his cheekbones.

“I hate that my hands hurt. I wish I could touch you more.” He turned to fit his back against your front, your hand meeting his chest and feeling his calm heartbeat.

“Did you really shape that sculpture after me?”

You noticed him nodding. “I could still feel you under my fingers. It was torture to lay in this bed without you.”

You kissed his nape. “Good thing I’m here now.”

“You make it so much better, darling.” His voice was reaching that depth that fit night-time pillow talk so perfectly.

You thought about how your life had changed since he came into it. “You make it better too, Tae.”

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Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7