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#his only responsibility is his own happiness and no other job at all
snickerdoodlles · 5 months
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Very Important Question about Vegas's Youtube era: how colorful is his cookware? Did Macau and Chay get him pink and green pineapple patterned mini-muffin trays?
Vegas's kitchen is so colorful. his kitchen looks like a cute kitchen pinterest board threw up all over it. nobody can tell if his aesthetic is retro or industrial or countryside or what, because it's this eclectic mishmash of individually cute instagram worthy things thrown together in a way that almost works but doesn't, because a proper pinterest board is always a hot fucking mess when taken in its entirety.
it first begins with items of whimsy. Macau shows Vegas a picture of a dinosaur ladle, Vegas says "what the fuck is that? father would never allow for those" and that alone manifests 12 of them in his shopping cart. feels very weird about it when they arrive and banishes the box of them to the forgotten corner of a cupboard. then Macau buys Pete his first pineapple jar. and like. it's a pineapple. that's all it is. Pete sticks it in Vegas's kitchen and Vegas is stuck staring at a ceramic pineapple that just looks like a pineapple, unable to figure out why it feels weird. Macau gets Pete a second pineapple jar, except this time it's also an owl face, and Vegas can't figure out why he wishes he was looking at that one instead of the regular pineapple one. he wants to hurl both of them at a wall so hard they leave a dent as they shatter. he wants to put them in a window where they'll be framed as the sun rises on them. he buys a spatula with a bee pattern on a whim all by himself and is so on edge about it for the next two weeks he whips welts onto (a very happy) Pete's back.
over the course of time, all of Vegas's kitchen supplies become items you'd expect to find on pinterest. bird salt and pepper shakers. cutely bland patterned jars labeled COFFEE and TEA. an industrial chic spice rack that sits under his cottagecore herb wall. highly specialized mini pans that make foods in special shapes. so many pastel pots and pans. at first Vegas is always saying stuff like "someone got that for me" or "my father would hate it." but it's not about that. later he's defiantly indifferent and daring about owning them at all. but it's not really about any of that either. it's really just...Vegas letting himself have cute things. things that would be called ~girly~ or ~ruin~ his image. there's actually several items he's just neutral about (like the soft pastel colors--not really his thing tbh! but a good pot is a good pot) or even sometimes dislikes (mini muffin trays = yay!, mini pans that only cook one(1) thing = frustration)-- but like. Vegas is allowed to have them. he's even fine to like them if he wants to. it doesn't matter that he has them. the image they paint of him doesn't matter. and that feeling of just owning cutesy, whimsical, or downright weird kitchen shit as he pleases without it being anything else is its own high for Vegas and his traumas ❤
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pedrospatch · 1 month
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run
Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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*moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only. no mention of reader’s race or skin tone.
summary: When you’re given the chance to run from your captor, you don’t take it.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. MENTIONS PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). reader is described washing her hair (the exact length is not specified) and she wears a dress. she is also shorter than Joel. violence, kidnapping, reader has major stockholm syndrome, Joel is fairly soft for her but HE IS STILL NOT A GOOD MAN, brief mention of Tess and Joel being involved with each other, Tess seems like the villain but she might actually be the only one of these three who is not totally fucked up in the head. SMUT. daddy kink. size difference (no description of reader’s body type, Joel is just a big guy with a big dick, enjoy it). oral sex (female receiving), super risky unprotected p in v sex (mention of reader ovulating, Joel pulls out, don’t be be like these two, practice safe sex), creampie (yeah he doesn’t give a fuck the second time around). many, many pet names (baby, baby girl, honey, angel, sweetheart, little girl). um i think that’s it. oh, and they fuck in the dirt.
PLEASE HEED ALL WARNINGS.
word count: 8.6k
a/n: one thing about me is i WILL soften up EVERY version of Joel Miller to my little heart’s content. HUGE HUGE thank you to @endlessthxxghts and @joelsdagger for lending me their eyes and beta-ing this fic for me last night. <33 i love and appreciate you guys SO MUCH. i loved seeing you both in the doc at the same exact time lmao. this can be read as a standalone, but it is considered part of the captive universe.
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Everyone in the group has a job. Except for you.
Or at least, that’s what you hear them say.
That bitch doesn’t do shit.
She never has to lift a fucking finger.
She should work for her meal—just like the rest of us.
Bitterness laces their tones when they talk about you.
Insults grow a little bolder when he’s not around.
Useless.
Freeloader.
Leech.
You might not be out there with a rifle in hand hunting game or invading camps and spilling blood for supplies—but you do in fact have a job, and that job is to make Joel Miller happy. It is your responsibility, your duty, to please him, and to keep him satisfied. Because keeping him satisfied keeps him in a good mood, and one thing you’ve come to learn about your captor is, where there is a good mood, often there is mercy.
Hell, you’re doing them a favor by keeping their violent, fearsome leader in a good mood. Because you’ve seen what he does to them when he’s not. He can be just as brutal towards his own people as he is to strangers.
It doesn’t make a difference, though. They still see you as nothing more than his coddled little whore.
“Fuck, that’s it.”
He groans, his thick, callused fingers digging harshly into the softness of your flesh as he holds you firmly in place underneath him. “Oh fuck, baby girl,” Joel curses through gritted teeth, his hands gripping your hips as he uses his own weight against you, pressing you down into the old mattress until you feel every uncomfortable lump, each creaking spring.
While he isn’t fucking you as roughly as he has on other occasions, he’s hardly being gentle. It’s hard, fast.
Loud.
Joel couldn’t care less about the rest of the group, the men and women on the other side of the wall, forced to listen to the sounds coming from the single bedroom of the cabin he decided they would hunker down in for the remainder of the summer season. Strings of curses and brutish grunts that came rumbling from deep within his chest, pleading gasps and whimpers that fell from your swollen, bitten lips. If anything, knowing they were listening only spurred him on—it didn’t hurt to remind them, especially the men with wandering eyes, that you were his special girl.
His good girl.
You certainly did your job, and you did it so, so well.
“Christ, sweetheart. M’so fuckin’ close—” Joel picks up speed, his hips snapping even harder, faster, the front of his thighs slapping against the backs of yours. Each thrust causes the bed’s rusted, iron headboard to slam violently against the wood panel wall.
You clutch fistfuls of the single, stale, yellowing sheet beneath you, each stroke he delivers knocking the wind out of your lungs, making it harder to breathe. He is so heavy on top of you, this big, broad, bulk of a man who makes you feel swallowed, smothered, and small. Joel takes up so much room inside of you, and it’s a wonder how you could possibly have any space left to spare.
It’s a fullness you can’t seem to get enough of.
It’s a craving, a need.
Worst of all, it’s slowly becoming a want.
“Daddy,” you choke out, fisting the sheet tighter, your skin stretching taut over your knuckles. Can the others also hear the squelch of your drenched cunt around his cock as it begs him for more?
“Fuck. You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby,” Joel croons his praise. His hands abandon your hips and he hunches over you, his thrusts momentarily ceasing. He crushes his chest against your sweaty, quivering back and leans forward even further, bracing his large hands on either side of you. Then, his lips move to the shell of your ear and he speaks, his breath blazing hot on your skin. “Y’take me so well, honey. Y’take Daddy’s cock so fuckin’ well. This pretty little pussy was fuckin’ made for me. She was made jus’ for me—ain’t that right, angel?”
He’s right.
Oh, how you fucking hated that he was right.
It was made for him. Your cunt. Your body. You.
Every part of you was made for him, and only for him.
All you can do is nod dumbly in agreement.
“Say it,” Joel whispers his firm command. “Wanna hear you say it. Be a good girl and use your words. Say it, say this pussy is made for me.”
“Yes, Daddy,” you moan obediently, prompting him to grin against your ear. “My pussy is made for you, just—just for you. No one—no one else. Only you.” Could this really be the same voice that would break, grow hoarse from screaming for him to stop? The same voice that would beg and plead for him to set you free?
Jutting his hips forward, Joel buries himself to the hilt, eliciting a noise from you, something caught between a pained whimper and a contented sigh. His balls, heavy and full for you, rest on your clit, which is still sensitive to the touch after he’d spent a majority of the morning with his head buried in between your legs. Desiring yet another release, you try wriggling around beneath him in a silent plea for more. More, more, more.
Please, Daddy. More.
Joel’s grin widens. He places one of his hands on your soft lower belly, fingers dragging down the slope of it until he finds the slick swell of your seam between your legs where his girth splits you open. “Ready, baby?”
Nodding, you open your mouth to answer him, but the sound of your own groan cuts you off when his fingers firmly circle around your throbbing, swollen bud. “Oh,” you breathe, instantly sinking right into his touch. Your eyes screw shut tightly in pleasure, and you throw your head back onto his shoulder. The scruff of his beard is rough on your cheek, and it burns, the same way it had burned the tender flesh of your inner thighs.
His hips find their rhythm as you rub against his hand—you’re almost there. He knows this, you can tell by the chuckle that thunders in his chest and against your back. But you’re too busy chasing your pleasure to be embarrassed.
He’s made you a needy, greedy girl.
“Daddy,” you mewl, trying your hardest to move under him, to work your cunt up and down on his cock. “I’m gonna come—” You gasp, back arching as Joel strokes in and out, his fingers rubbing your clit with urgency.
Joel plants a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek. “Give it to me, baby,” he grunts. “C’mon. Lemme feel her squeeze me.”
Feeling how close he is too, you try to hold on for just a little bit longer, at least long enough to finish with him, but Joel’s relentless, and you’re forced off of the ledge you’re both standing on first.
Crying out, your walls spasm around him, asking to be filled until he’s made a complete mess out of you, until white leaks, and it slowly dribbles down the insides of your trembling thighs.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel rasps. He lifts himself off you and he pulls out, taking his throbbing cock in his hand. His chest heaves as he fists himself, the wet sound of your slick in his palm filling the room. “Down,” he grits, and you obey him, lowering down yourself on the mattress until you’re lying almost completely flat before him. He gives himself one final stroke just as you look over your shoulder at him, the gentle flutter of your eyelashes the last push he needs. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck—” Joel spills his load, shooting thick ropes of warm cum along the soft curve of your spine.
You rest your cheek on your folded arms, biting back a small sigh.
He’s left behind an ache—you feel painfully empty.
But it was Tess, who had been given the task of helping you track your menstrual cycle, that had given him the warning earlier that morning. “She’s ovulating. Don’t be a fucking idiot, Joel. Last thing we need is for her to—”
“Relax,” he’d gruffed in response. “I fuckin’ know.”
Spent, Joel hunches over you once more and he lightly kisses the top of your head before burying his nose into your hair. “Good girl,” he murmurs. Affection that once was unwelcome and unwanted, that once made you feel sick to your fucking stomach, now makes you feel something else entirely. You’re not quite sure what it is, only that it’s warm. Comforting. “Y’did so well for me, sweetheart. Always do.”
Your lips curl into a faint, tired smile he doesn’t see.
A while later, you find yourself perched on the bed with the sheet wrapped around you, quietly watching as he gets dressed. “Daddy?” you say tentatively as he drops into a nearby chair to pull on his boots.
“What is it, baby girl?”
“Do you—do you think we can go to the creek today?”
Joel finishes lacing his boots and looks up at you.
“I’d really like to wash up,” you admit, softly. That, and you would like to see the light of day. He’d boarded up the windows with slabs of wood—sometimes, if you’re lucky, you get some decent light seeping through the teeny gaps.
“Not today, honey. I’ve got some things to take care of. Supplies are low, we gotta do a run. Don’t have the time to take you.” He stands and picks up his rifle, slinging the strap of it over his shoulder. Noticing the crestfallen expression on your face, Joel’s eyes soften. He walks over and gingerly cups the side of your face in his palm. His thumb strokes your cheek. “Promise I’ll take you to the creek tomorrow, sweetheart. First thing. Alright?”
Nodding, your eyes fall to your hands in your lap.
“Okay.”
Joel kisses your forehead, then leaves the room.
He makes sure to lock the door from the outside, and you can’t help but wonder if he knows locking you in is no longer necessary.
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“I can take her.”
Joel’s dark eyes remain focused on the state map laid out on the table in front of him. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about, Tess?” He sees her in his periphery, but is too busy figuring out the group’s best route to look her way.
“I heard her asking you to take her to the creek so she can bathe,” she tells him. “I can take her.”
Finally, his head snaps up and he turns to her. “What?”
Tess leans her hip against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. “You and Tommy can take the group, go and take care of what you have to take care of. I’ll stay behind and take her down to the creek,” she suggests casually, as if she’s not asking him to trust her with his most prized possession—the only damn thing on what was left of this fucking earth Joel Miller actually gives a shit about. “Once she’s washed up, I’ll bring her back to the cabin and put her back into the room. Easy.”
Joel stares at her, bewildered. “What makes you think I’d fuckin’ allow somethin’ like that?”
“Oh, come on.” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Anytime I bitch about having to do something for that girl, you’re on my fucking case about it, and now that I’m offering to do something for her, you don’t wanna let me?”
He shakes his head and lowers his voice. “You’re talkin’ about takin’ her outside, Tess. Without me.”
“The creek’s just a mile away,” Tess reminds him. “I’m pretty sure I can handle getting her there and back with no trouble, Joel.” When he says nothing, she cocks her head to the side and scoffs. “What? You don’t trust me enough to take her under my wing for a couple hours?”
Joel’s lips pull into a tight line. 
Of course he does. Tess was his right hand woman, his second in command.
He trusted her more than his own fucking brother. She had never given him any reason not to, had never given him a reason to doubt her loyalty to him. No, his lack of trust has nothing to do with Tess—but everything to do with you. He doesn’t trust you. He will never trust you.
“What if she tries to—?” He can’t even say it.
“Tries to what?” She pauses. “Run?”
His throat goes dry and he gives her a subtle nod.
Joel Miller was a bad man who did bad things, but you were his good. You’ve brought back some meaning into this wretched life of his, gave him something that felt a lot like a sense of purpose. You were something for him to take care of, to keep safe and protect.
Tess raises an eyebrow at him. “You think I’d even give her the chance? Besides, the girl’s not that stupid, Joel. She knows better than to try anything. She knows she wouldn’t get very fucking far.”
“Tess—”
“I’m just trying to do something nice for her. Besides, I think it might do her some good to be in the company of someone else for once—the company of a woman.”
Joel peers at her, taking a minute to think it over in his mind before asking, “You’ll have her back in the room before I get back to the cabin?”
“Long before then,” she swears. “All in one piece.”
He hesitates. He’s still not sure.
It’s then that he remembers that disappointed look on your sweet, pretty little face. “Alright,” he relents with a deep sigh. “I trust you, Tess.”
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It always feels a bit strange to be outside.
But being outside without Joel?
It feels even stranger.
When he’d walked back into the room and told you Tess was willing to take you to the creek, the news had taken you by complete surprise. When he said he was willing to let her take you, that you almost couldn’t believe. It hadn’t even sunk in until the three of you stood outside the cabin and he was kissing your forehead sweetly in a temporary goodbye before turning to Tess.
“Never take your eyes off her,” he’d instructed her.
“She’ll behave.” She had smiled at you as she pulled her pistol from the waistband of her jeans, the gleam of the silver barrel catching your eye. “Isn’t that right?”
Swallowing dryly, you had answered with a strained, “Of course.”
She’s the last fucking person you wanted to cross. She was almost as terrifying as Joel, if not more.
“Tess? W-Where are we going?” you ask as you trudge along behind her, hoping you don’t sound as winded as you feel. Although you had no way to keep track of the time, it felt like you’d been trekking for at least an hour. Your feet are starting to hurt in your shoes—old, worn, yellow canvas sneakers that certainly weren’t made for hiking. “I don’t remember the creek being this far from the cabin.”
Tess snorts. “Don’t tell me you’re tired already.”
“It’s just—we’ve been walking for a really long time.”
She glances over her shoulder at you. “Here I thought you would be a little fucking grateful to be out getting some fresh air,” she chuckles, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the path ahead.
“I am,” you squeak, stumbling over a fallen branch.
Silence falls over the both of you.
“We’re not going to the creek,” Tess finally speaks after a minute. “I’m taking you somewhere else. Somewhere even better. Just trust me, kid. Now hurry up.”
It takes another hour before you reach your destination, and you hear it before you can even see it, a humming sound that turns into buzzing the closer you get. Then, you feel it, a vibration in the rocks beneath your feet. “Is that a—?” Stepping around her, your mouth falls open in absolute awe at the sight before you.
The waterfall is nestled right in between the trees and surges over the rocky mountain, throwing up bubbles of spray as it plunges into the lake at the bottom, and from there, it foams into a thick, white lather at the base. On the bank, where you stand, you spot different types of vegetation you couldn’t identify even if you tried—all you know is that it’s green, and it’s beautiful.
“This is incredible,” you gasp.
“Way better than some little creek, huh?” Tess tucks her pistol into the waistband of her jeans and shrugs off her pack. She digs around in the front pocket and pulls out something wrapped in a piece of crumpled brown tissue paper. She hands it to you. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“Well, if you’d fucking open it, you would know,” Tess rolls her eyes. “It’s my last piece of soap. It’s all yours.”
Her kind generosity comes as a surprise—usually, Tess wanted nothing to do with you. But you don’t question it, and you certainly don’t turn the rare luxury down.
“Thanks,” you say, shooting her a grateful look.
Tess nods towards the body of water. “Alright, then. Go on and get to it.”
You take the piece of soap out the tissue. The scent of lavender is faint, but still very much there. Joel will like the smell of it on your skin tonight, you think.
As you start to pull the strap of your cotton blue dress down your shoulder, you feel her gaze fixed intently on you. Heat rushes to your cheeks. “Uh, aren’t you going to turn around?”
“For fuck’s sake,” she scoffs. “I’ve got what you’ve got. Now hurry up, we don’t have all fucking day.”
Nodding, you peel off your dress and underwear, your face on fire as the older woman’s eyes slowly drag over your naked body. Carefully, you step off the bank and wade into the water. It’s so clear that you can count the pebbles underneath your feet.
Leaning against a nearby tree, Tess calls out, “You have ten minutes! And stay out of the waterfall! Last thing I need is for you to fucking drown.”
As she lights a cigarette, you can’t help but stare at her. Her features, though worn down after the hell she had been through trying to survive the post outbreak world, are beautiful. Big, dark green eyes, a perfect nose, and full, pouty lips. There’s never been a doubt in your mind that she and Joel have been involved with one another, and lately, the mere thought of anything between them made you uncomfortable.
It’s an odd sensation deep in your gut—jealousy?
But what were you jealous of? Her having had him first?
It shouldn’t matter to you, but it does. Insecurities you have never in your life felt before seep into your bones.
“Anyone ever tell you it’s fucking rude to stare?” Tess quips, raising an eyebrow at you. She shoves her lighter into the back pocket of her jeans.
Nervously, you sink lower into the water, nibbling the inside of your cheek. “Tess? Can I ask you something?”
“What could you possibly fucking want to ask me?”
You hesitate.
“How—how long have you known each other?”
“Who?” Tess plucks the cigarette from between her lips and flicks the ashes. “Me and Joel?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
She shrugs. “Don’t know. Six, seven years?”
“How did you two meet?”
“Long story that’s none of your fucking business.”
You ask your next question before you lose your nerve. “Have you two ever—?” Unsure of how to phrase it, you stop and clamp your mouth shut in instant regret.
“Have we ever what?” Tess studies your face, and she quickly realizes what you’re trying to ask her. “You’re seriously asking me if me and Joel have ever fucked?”
Biting your bottom lip, you glance down into the water at your feet. You honestly don’t expect her to answer, so when she does, you look back up at her in surprise.
“Yeah.” She takes a long drag from her cigarette, then adds, “Few times.”
Something unpleasant claws at your insides. “You two were together? Like a couple?”
“Something like that,” Tess mutters, flicking her ashes once more.
“What happened?”
She looks at you, pausing before answering, “You.”
Oh.
Before you can utter another word, Tess snaps, “Quit asking so many goddamn fucking questions and finish up washing. You’ve got eight minutes left.”
Not wanting to push your luck further than you already have, you do as she tells you in complete silence.
You lather up the soap in your hands, washing your hair first, and then your face and body, using your hands to scrub yourself as best as you can. Between the calming scent of the soap, the soothing sound of the waterfall, and the warm afternoon sun, you find yourself relaxing. You try to clear your mind, live in this peaceful moment which you very well may never get again, but your mind begins to wander.
And it wanders straight to Joel.
Closing your eyes, you can’t help but picture him here, standing behind you in the lake. You can almost feel his hands on you, long, thick fingers lathered with lavender soap, sliding down your body. His lips at your neck, he cups your breasts in his hands, rolling his thumbs over your hardened nipples until your head lulls, falling back onto his shoulder. Joel drags his hands further down, over your stomach, going lower and lower towards the place where you need them the most. “Yeah, baby?” he murmurs into your neck, dipping one of them between your legs until you are, quite literally, in the palm of his hand. “This where y’need me?”
Breathless, you respond, “It’s where I want you.”
Suddenly, your eyes snap open.
There is a wetness between your thighs, one that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re standing waist-deep in the middle of a lake. You shake those thoughts away and finish washing yourself.
“Time’s up,” Tess calls. She meets you on the bank with a dry rag. “Here.”
The rag doesn’t exactly cover much surface area, but you dry yourself off as best you can before tugging on your underwear and slipping on your dress. Just as you crouch down to slip your shoes on, she tosses her pack and it lands in front of you with a soft thud.
Confused, you glance up at her.
“There’s about a week’s worth of jerky in there. Longer, if you know how to ration,” Tess explains, calmly. “And a canteen for water. I also packed you a flashlight and a pocket knife. It’s not much, but—”
Frowning, you rise to your feet. “What are you talking about, Tess? What’s going on? Why are you giving me your pack?”
“Because I’m giving you a chance, kid.”
A feeling of dread pools in the pit of your stomach.
“A chance to what?”
“Run.”
Your heart stutters a beat. “Run?”
“He’ll come looking for you. You need to get as far away from here as possible. Run away, as far as you can, and don’t fucking look back.”
All you can do is stare at her in shocked silence.
“I can help you get a head start,” Tess offers, quietly. “I can show you which direction to go in and put you on a path leading to the closest state highway—”
“But what if I don’t want to run?”
Tess places her hands on her hips, and she exhales an incredulous laugh. “Jesus,” she breathes, shaking her head in pity. “He’s really got you fucking brainwashed, doesn’t he?”
You glare at her. “I am not brainwashed, Tess.”
“You’ve gotta be if you’re telling me you wanna go back to him.”
“Tess—”
She cuts you off. “He gave the order to raid your camp and kill your people,” she reminds you. “He fucking slit your father’s throat right in front of you, then took you as his prisoner. He made you his fucking sex slave.”
“He takes care of me! He feeds me, makes sure I have a bed to sleep in no matter where we are. He keeps me safe. He—he cares about me.” You will your voice not to tremble as you stand your ground. “No. I’m not running away, Tess. I want to go back.”
Tess sighs. “You’re really not gonna make this easy, are you?”
“Take me back,” you all but demand, your hands curled into the least menacing little fists she had ever seen in her life at your sides. “Take me back to the cabin—take me back to him, Tess. I mean it.”
Amused, she huffs through her nose. “Or else what?”
“You can’t make me run away, Tess.” As you take a step towards her, she reaches behind her and swiftly whips out her pistol from the waistband of her jeans. You halt, freezing in fear when she aims the barrel of the gun at your chest.
“Actually, I can,” she says, her finger hovering over the trigger. “So here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna walk away now. And if you even think about following me, or trying to find your way back to the group, you will die.” She tosses you a tiny, wry smile. “Believe it or not, I’m doing you a real big favor, kid. Problem is, he’s got you so fucked in the head that you can’t see it.”
“Tess, please,” you plead. “Don’t do this to me!”
She begins to back away. “Remember when you’d say that to him? How you’d beg him not to do those things to you every night? Beg him to let you go?”
“Please, just take me back to him!”
You start to follow her.
“You take one more fucking step and I’ll shoot you,” she threatens, her eyes darkening. “Don’t think I won’t.”
Tess keeps her pistol pointed at you until she slips into the trees and disappears, abandoning you in the middle of the forest.
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He’s furious. Livid.
Joel paces back and forth on the porch.
“Where the fuck are they?”
The old, rotting wood that wraps all the way around the cabin creaks, and certain softer spots bend and buckle, threatening to give way beneath his heavy boots. Joel’s younger brother leans against the railing, which is just as fragile, an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.
“Christ, Joel. Can you fuckin’ relax?” Tommy grumbles, fishing around in his back pocket for his lighter. “You’re gonna bring the whole damn cabin down if ya don’t cut that shit out.” He sparks a flame and lights the filtered end of the cigarette. He takes a long drag, and exhales the smoke through his nose. “You’re gettin’ worked up over nothin’, brother.”
“S’almost sundown, and they’re still not fuckin’ back.” Joel shakes his head. “Fuckin’ knew I shouldn’t have let Tess take her. Somethin’ happened, Tommy. I just know it.” He lifts his shirt and reaches for his pistol, pulling it from the waistband of his jeans. “M’gonna head to the creek myself to find ‘em. Ain’t gonna sit around on my goddamn hands and wait for it to get fuckin’ dark.”
“She’s with Tess. M’sure the girl’s fine—” Tommy stops, his eyes widening slightly. “Well, hell.”
“What?”
Tommy jerks his chin over Joel’s shoulder before taking another slow, casual drag of his cigarette. He savors the last few seconds of peace before shit inevitably hits the fan and his brother unleashes his wrath on anything, or anyone, in his path.
Joel whips around and his stomach sinks, his blood ice in his veins when he sees Tess approaching the cabin. Alone.
Both his mind and body go numb. It’s a jarring shock to his nervous system, and it takes him a minute or two to fully process the fact that you’re not with her.
“Joel,” Tess says his name carefully as he descends the porch steps and walks towards her. “I need you to take a breath, alright?”
“Where—where is she?” His voice breaks, his weakness momentarily slipping through the cracks.
Not that Tess didn’t already know you were Joel Miller’s weakness, his soft white underbelly, the only vulnerable part of his hardened self that could be penetrated—you would have been his downfall. As much as she’d like to say she did what she did solely for your own good, she also did it for his, and for the sake of the group as a whole.
It needed to be done.
He stands in front of her, a ticking time bomb about to go off.
Prepared to face whatever consequences of the choice she had made, Tess tucks her gun away and sighs. “You need to take a breath—”
Joel snatches her arm, his fingers digging into the flesh above her elbow. His emotions hit him all at once.
Fear, worry, anger. It’s the third that takes precedence, and before Tess can utter another word, Joel yanks her forward. She crashes against his chest so hard that it knocks the wind out of her. “Where the fuck is she?” He leans down, his nostrils flaring as he brings their faces the closest they have been in almost a year.
“Joel, take a fucking breath—”
“Where. Is. She.” His grip on her arm tightens with each word he bites out through his teeth. He’s vaguely aware the others have piled out of the cabin, gathering on the porch to watch the altercation.
“She ran,” Tess explains, calmly. She doesn’t falter, not even as his fingers sink deeper into her skin, promising her painful bruises which will take days to fade away. If he decided to let her live. “She ran away, Joel. I turned my back for one fucking second and she was gone. She even took my fucking pack. I tried going after her, but it was no use. She was too fast.”
Behind him, Tommy snorts. “She outran you?”
Her eyes momentarily flicker to him. “Her knees are a lot younger than mine,” she replies, flatly.
“Which direction did she go in?” Joel demands. When Tess doesn’t immediately respond, he shouts, “Which fucking direction!”
Tess manages to snatch her arm out of his grasp. She glowers at him, hissing, “What the hell does it matter which direction she went? You won’t fucking find her.”
His eyes meet hers, and he sees it. Feels it.
She’s lying to him.
“Tess.” Joel’s voice drops dangerously low. He studies her face, his brows creasing with suspicion. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do shit, Joel. She fucking ran away.”
Without warning, Joel takes her by her throat. His other hand brings his pistol to her head, shoving the barrel of it against her temple. His nose touches hers. “Now, tell me why I have the feelin’ you’re not tellin’ me the whole truth?”
Tess lifts her chin. She searches his eyes, a sharp ache shooting through her. After everything, all the hell they had been through together—he would end her life, put a bullet in her because of you? Did she mean that little to him?
Or maybe she’d never meant anything to him at all?
She’s not sure which stings more.
“Because you’ve fucking deluded yourself into thinking that she willingly wants anything to do with you,” Tess finally answers. “That’s why.”
He ignores the burn of her scorching words.
“Where the fuck is she, Tess?”
“If she’s smart, she’s far away from here by now,” she hisses. “I did everyone a fucking favor, Joel. That girl is just another fucking mouth to feed. And what if you get her pregnant? That’ll be another one. Not to mention, a crying baby could draw unwanted attention and get us all killed. Ever thought about that? She’s not an asset to the group, she’s a fucking liability. Besides, I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’re all fucking tired of hearing you ra—”
Joel digs the barrel harder into her temple, his finger hovering over the trigger. “Listen to me. You’ve got ten seconds to tell me where she is, y’understand me?”
“Or what? You’ll blow my brains out?” Foolishly, Tess chooses to call his bluff despite not knowing for certain whether or not he’ll actually pull the trigger. “Go ahead, then. Kill me, Joel.”
His finger twitches over the trigger, but he doesn’t pull it. He can’t fucking pull it. Not on her. Not on Tess.
Still in his hands, she sags slightly in relief.
Swallowing harshly, Joel Miller lowers his gun and does something she’s never seen him do before. He begs.
“Tess, tell me where she is,” he whispers. His pleading is subtle, and only she can hear it. “Please—just fuckin’ tell me where my girl is.”
Tess stands her ground and says nothing.
Releasing her, Joel shoves her aside and with nothing but his gun in his hand, he sets off to find you.
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“Ow, fuck!”
You gasp, quickly lifting your bare foot off the ground.
You’d stepped on something sharp—a stick, or maybe a rock?
In a desperate attempt to try and keep up with Tess’ tracks, you had stupidly left behind your shoes back at the waterfall. But the mere seconds you had spared by not stopping to put your shoes on hadn’t given you the advantage you thought it would. She had moved much too fast, and within minutes, you’d become helplessly, hopelessly lost. Every tree and every bush, they all look exactly the same, and for all you know, you’ve probably been going around in fucking circles for the past couple of hours in your search for her footprints in the dirt.
Sagging against the trunk of a nearby tree, you take a minute to try and catch your breath, to give your poor little feet a break from hiking over fallen branches and jagged stones.
Your head falls back, eyes gazing through the canopy of trees. Dusk has settled in, and nightfall is on its heels. It was foolish of you to leave behind your shoes, but even more so to leave behind the pack she had given you—in the pack were all the things meant to help you survive. Knife, flashlight, food.
Sure, you can survive a night out here in the wilderness without any of those things—but then what? Come dawn, what do you do? Where do you go? Do you just stumble around in the woods and hope for the best? Pray you’ll make it onto a highway with signs that will point you to a quarantine zone?
Hell, maybe you’re overestimating yourself. Maybe you wouldn’t survive long enough to worry about your next move. Howls in the distance remind you there’s wildlife out here, dangerous predators that come out after dark in search of their next meal. Or what about infected? It wasn’t unheard of for them to veer off the highway and lose themselves in the trees.
You recall your first few weeks in Joel Miller’s hands.
Escaping them was all you could ever think about, even though the chances of you surviving alone were slim to none, just like they are now. Never having been on your own, death would have been inevitable—but back then, in your darkest moments in captivity, you wished for it. You’d welcomed the idea of starving, freezing, or being torn apart limb from limb by an entire hoard of clickers. At least then, you’d die with your freedom.
Almost a year later, that wish has been granted.
You’re free.
You may very well die, but you would die free.
Closing your eyes, you think about Joel. His arms, that once held you down—held you still—as he did all those things to you without your consent, are arms your heart yearns to have wrapped around you, holding you close.
“Jesus,” you grit, a tear rolling down your cheek.
Maybe Tess had been right. Maybe he really does have you fucked in the head.
Joel was a monster. He had taken everything from you, including your innocence. He’d defiled you in ways you hadn’t known were possible. He was a terrible, terrible man.
A terrible, terrible man who kept you fed.
A terrible, terrible man who kept you warm.
A terrible, terrible man who kept you safe.
Another tear slides down the side of your face. What is fucking wrong with you?
You don’t know. But what you do know is, the thought of never seeing Joel again is somehow more terrifying to you than the thought of dying even the most brutal of deaths.
A loud rustling sound brings your train of thought to an immediate, sudden halt, and your eyes wrench open.
It’s darker now, but you manage to catch a movement in the shrubs, only mere feet in front of you. Panic flares in your chest, it rattles you to your very core, and even though every nerve in your body is urging you to move, you freeze, your back flush against the tree trunk. Your fingernails dig painfully into the bark as you watch the shrubs part down the middle, and a tall, hulking figure emerges with a heavy grunt.
At first, you think it’s just a figment of your imagination showing you what you wanted to see—a hallucination. Blinking furiously, you lightly shake your head, and then take another look at him. Your breath hitches when you realize it’s Joel.
He stares at you in the same manner, as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re real, or if his mind is playing a cruel, cruel trick on him. Feet cemented to the forest floor, he watches you take a small, tentative step towards him.
Once adamant that you’d never look him in the eye, you find your gaze locking directly with his as you carefully take another step closer. Then another, and another.
“Joel?” It’s the first time you’ve ever uttered his name.
He seems as taken aback hearing it as you are saying it.
“Joel.” It rolls off your tongue smoother, and with more ease the second time around.
It sparks a flame somewhere deep, deep inside of him, a fire that burns differently than those ignited by carnal desires.
No, this is something else entirely, and you feel it too.
“Baby?” he whispers hoarsely. “S’that really you?”
“Joel!” you cry, hurling yourself into his arms.
Joel’s gun falls from his hand and he curls them around you. Burying his nose into your hair, he inhales deeply. The scent of you, the feel of you—you’re fucking real.
Shuddering with sobs of relief, your arms wrap around his waist, and you cling to him as if you’re clinging onto dear, precious life itself.
“Hush now, s’alright,” Joel soothes, cradling the back of your head in one hand, while the rubs soft, calming circles into your back. “I’ve got you, honey. M’here.”
“I swear I didn’t want to run away,” you explain through your tears. “I begged her to take me back to you, Joel, I really did! But she left me out here—she said she would shoot me if I tried following her back. Please, you have to believe me, you just have to believe me!”
He squeezes you harder against his chest. “I do, baby. I do believe you,” he assures you. Pulling away, he takes a step backward and takes your face between his palms, peering at you in concern. “Y’hurt, sweetheart?”
“No,” you hiccup, curling your hands around his wrists. Your lower lip trembles. “I—I thought I’d never see you again. I was scared I wouldn’t,” you admit, softly.
Joel’s thumb wipes away a fresh tear. “M’here now,” he murmurs. “You’re with me, baby. You’re safe, alright?” As a late evening breeze passes through, he lets you go and shrugs out of his brown jacket. He goes to drape it around your shoulders, but you snatch it right out of his hands, then toss it aside.
Something in you snaps. You take fistfuls of his flannel, pulling him down towards you to do yet something else that takes you both by surprise—you initiate a kiss. You lean forward and press your lips to his, a little swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip as you clutch tighter at his shirt, holding him in place. Groaning, Joel opens his mouth more, his tongue brushing yours.
Liquid heat pools in your belly, and before you realize it, you’ve grown frantic, kissing him with fervor. Releasing his shirt, you slide your hands down his chest, over his stomach, lower and lower until you find his belt buckle. Desperate, you clumsily fumble with it, and that’s when Joel tears away from you, his breath hitching.
You’re begging before he can even say a word. “Please. I need you—I want you. Right now.”
You cup him through his jeans, and he exhales sharply.
“Fuck.” Without giving it a second thought, his hands reach for the straps of your dress, pushing them off of your shoulders. He roughly tugs at the material, letting it slip down your body until it falls around your feet. In a tangle of limbs and tongues, you both sink to the forest floor. Your hands brush his buckle, and he catches your wrists. “Not yet, baby girl. M’still in charge, alright?”
Sheepishly, you nod.
“Say it.” His command is firm, but somehow still gentle.
“You’re—you’re in charge.”
“Good girl.” Joel guides you onto your back. He’s over you in a second, swelling your lips with a hard, hungry kiss that leaves you dizzy and breathless. He moves his mouth, teeth scraping over your cheek and jaw, down to your neck where he nips at the tender, delicate flesh over your pulse point. Then, he bites his way over your collarbone and to your shoulder. “Bet she’s already wet for me,” he mumbles into your skin. “Ain’t she, baby?”
Pushing himself back onto his knees, he slides a finger over your clothed cunt, eliciting a small gasp from you. Hooking his fingers under the elastic waistband of your cotton underwear, he yanks the fabric down your legs. It catches on your foot, your wetness smearing against the inside of your ankle.
You’re drenched.
“C’mere,” Joel grunts, sliding his hands under your ass and pulling your hips over his thighs. He leans over you once more, your bare, throbbing cunt rubbing against the crotch of his jeans. He tuts lightly into your neck as you buck against him. “Such a fuckin’ needy little girl.”
Desperate, you try rolling your hips into his. “Joel.”
“Kinda like it when y’say my name.” He starts making his way down the length of your body. “Think I’ll like it even better when you’re screamin’ it. Won’t I, baby?”
Your stomach tightens as he nibbles his way down your neck again, teeth scraping over your clavicle and down your chest to your heaving tits. Taking one in his hand, the other goes into his mouth—his tongue is scorching hot over your nipple. He licks the pebbled flesh, sucks it and bites it while he rolls the other peak in between his thumb and index finger. “Oh fuck,” you gasp.
Releasing your breast with a wet pop, Joel sinks further down your body. He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your tummy, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake. He stops over your mound and hovers for a fraction of a second before pressing his nose into the silky soft curls there. Inhaling deeply, Joel picks up the subtle, herbal scent of the lavender soap you had washed yourself with. “Fuck, y’smell so fuckin’ good.”
He pushes your thighs open, pinning one to the ground with his hand while the other goes over his shoulder. Your foot slides down his back, toes curling despite the fact that he hasn’t even reached the spot where you’re aching to have him most. Heart thundering, your blood rushes, roaring in your ears.
Joel turns his head, his lips brushing your inner thigh in another kiss. “S’this where y’want me, honey?” he asks you. Goosebumps erupt over every inch of your skin as he draws closer, his breath like steam on your core. He glances up at you, his cock twitching against his zipper at the sight of you laying naked before him on the floor of the forest. Willing. Wanting. “Hm? Right here?”
“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”
Thankfully, you only have to ask him once, and then his face is buried between your legs, and he is giving you what you want.
“Fuck!” you cry out. Back arching, your head tilts back until the crown of it meets the ground, leaves and twigs finding their way into your clean hair.
Joel’s tongue flattens over your cunt in a broad stroke, then dips between your folds, collecting your slick with a harsh groan, one that sends a bone-rattling vibration throughout your entire body, from head to curled toes. His mouth opens wider—a starving, greedy man trying to eat you whole. Sliding his tongue over your clit, Joel seals his lips around it, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until it swells in his mouth.
High-pitched little cries and whines spill from your lips. Your hands shoot down, fingers tangling themselves in his dark, graying curls, eliciting a grunt from him when you tug at his roots. “Joel, fuck,” you choke, your nails scraping against his scalp. He slurps and swallows your wetness, the sounds drowning out those of the night—the chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs, the soft hooting of owls are washed away until all you can hear is him devouring your pussy.
Your body starts to tremble, and you know you’re close. Joel does, too. He feels your thighs twitch, threatening to close around his head, but he wrenches them further apart with a muffled but firm, “No.” He drapes his arm over your pelvis, his large hand splayed on your belly.
Relentless, he sucks your clit, gliding his tongue over it, again and again until the muscles in your lower tummy tighten and you burst at the seams, unraveling into his mouth. Warm slick gushes out of you, a sweet mess he licks clean. You choke back sobs of pleasure, your body tensing, vision blurring with every stroke of his tongue, each scrape of his teeth over your clit.
Joel lifts himself onto his knees with a grunt and gazes down at you—his good girl, sweet and pliant and ready to be fucked full of his cock. His hands slide his belt out of its brass buckle, eyes still trained on you as he pops the button of his jeans and yanks down his zipper.
Your mind is fuzzy, still syrupy and dripping—it doesn’t fully register what he’s doing, not until he climbs back over you and you his hard cock brushes your thigh, hot velvet that sears the inside of your leg. Precum smears your flesh.
“Y’feel that? Feel what you fuckin’ do to me?”
“Joel.” Hands shaking, you reach for the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin on yours. You whine when he catches both of your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. “Your clothes—”
“Stay on.” Ducking his head, he nips at your pulse point and mumbles, “Tell me what y’want, pretty girl.”
Joel shifts over you, his cock now resting on your lower belly, thick and heavy and leaking.
You squirm under him, hips coming off the ground, that hollow thing inside of you begging to be filled.
“Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what y’want.”
“You, Joel—I want you. Please, please, please—”
He hushes you.
“I’ve you, baby. I’ve got you,” Joel promises. He wraps his other hand around himself, dragging the head of his cock along the seam of your puffy folds, up and down—he elicits a ragged little gasp from you when he grazes your clit and his fingers tighten around your wrists. He coats himself in your slippery slick until he’s glistening with it, and then he gives a slow roll of his hips, working himself into you.
Your mouth falls open. No words come out, no pleas for more—only jerky breaths, pathetic little pants for air as you take it.
Joel’s cock throbs, pulses like a heartbeat as your cunt welcomes him home. He presses his forehead to yours. “She’s always so fuckin’ sweet to me.” His voice is low, rough gravel. His eyes meet yours in the dark blue glow of the forest, and he savors the last moments of seeing your pretty face before the last traces of dusk are gone. Brushing his lips to the corner of your mouth, he feeds you his cock inch by inch, murmuring, “That’s it, honey. Good fuckin’ girl.”
You melt around him at his praise.
Releasing your wrists, he moves his hand, placing it on the crown of your head. “Ain’t ever lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he swears. “Alright? Never gonna be apart from me again, baby girl. Never. Y’understand me?” He curls his other hand firmly around your jaw, his fingers sticky with you and him. “Do you understand me?”
“Never,” you repeat, softly.
Joel kisses you, deep and slow, almost sweet. Tender. He breaks away, his lips hovering right over yours as he pushes his hips forward, bottoming out inside you.
Moaning, your hands grasp at his shoulders. Your legs widen further to accommodate the breadth of his hips.
“There y’go.” Joel presses deep within, until your belly feels hot and full. “That’s it, baby. Good girl,” he coos, drawing his hips back, then rolling them right back into you. He takes one of your ankles and tosses it over his shoulder, giving himself a better angle to fuck into you.
A loud cry tears from the back of your throat. “Joel!”
He grins in the darkness. He knew he’d like hearing you scream his name.
Joel’s hand settles on your leg that’s over his shoulder, your thigh already shaking. “Y’gonna be a real good girl n’ give me another one?”
You try to answer him, you really do, but your mind falls further and further away.
His fingertips sink into your thigh. He strokes in and out of you, never retreating more than inches at a time so he keeps you full. Stuffed. “Christ. Takin’ it so fuckin’ well,” he croons, moving your leg off of his shoulder so they are both wrapped around his waist. Hunching over you, he bears down hard, using most of his weight. He almost chuckles at the little oof that puffs out of you.
Rocks and twigs dig painfully into your back, but all you can do is feel him. How close he is.
You’re right there with him.
“Joel—fuck, I’m gonna co—”
You’re cut off by your own sharp gasp.
“That’s it. C’mon, honey.” Joel slips his hand between your thighs, his fingers firmly rubbing your clit. “C’mon, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cock—”
It rips through you like an electric current, a shockwave that has you clawing at the dirt. You come crying Joel’s name, crumbling into a whimpering, quivering mess.
Within seconds, he’s swept away by the same tide.
“Baby,” he groans, dropping his head into the hollow of your neck. He goes still and lets your tight cunt clench at him, gripping his cock as it throbs, pulses, empties into you. After a minute, he brushes a kiss to your neck before mumbling, “My sweet girl.”
Joel makes no move to pull out of you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your soiled fingers toy with the soft curls at the nape of his neck, shattered breaths slowing and piecing back together.
You gaze up through the trees at the night sky, feeling the safest you’ve ever been with the earth at your back and your whole world on top of you, his cock buried in your cunt.
Tess is right. Joel Miller really does have you fucked in the head.
You’re certain of it when you make the realization with a smile.
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divider credit to @/saradika 🖤
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mariasont · 5 months
Text
Talking to a Brick Wall - A.H
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a/n: rip erin strauss you would've hated this fic
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader
summary: in which you overhear your boyfriend aaron's phone call
warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, miscommunication, self-doubt, happy ending but also a terrible ending bc i SUCK at endings xoxo
wc: 2.3k
You had called out your boyfriend's name multiple times as you wandered into his house. He had asked you a while ago if you wanted to come over for a movie night tonight and hell would have to freeze over before you ever declined that offer. However, upon arrival, you were greeted by silence; no response to the doorbell, his phone, or your voice. Thankfully, the key he'd given you last year jingled in your pocket as you let yourself in.
You had a pretty strong suspicion he'd be in his office--after all, this was Aaron Hotchner, a man who definitely did not believe in leaving work at the office. 
And sure enough, his voice filtered through the slightly ajar door, the rich hue of his mahogany desk framing the gap. You were about to move towards the living room, assuming he was on a work call of some sorts, but his words stopped you dead in your tracks. 
"It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm speaking, but the understanding isn't there. You know what I mean? It's like the concepts just float in one ear and out the other."
You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, brows drawn together, as your hand found the wall, leaning towards the door. He couldn't have been talking about you, right?
"I try to share details, to get her involved, but it's met with this vacant nod. As if the depth of it all just doesn't register."
Oh. Her. You tried to fan away the wetness that threatened to fall down your cheeks, each rapid motion a desperate attempt to convince yourself you were imagining things. 
"And I'm patient, I really am. But when you're met with that blank look, it's... disheartening. You start to wonder if it's worth explaining at all. It's like talking to a wall."
Okay, that stung. It was like an immediate punch to the gut, your heart seeming to drop into the pit of your stomach. Your shoulders slumped slightly as you tried to rationalize his words, but nothing was really making sense right now.
The internal battle was a cruel one: stay and endure the sharp sting of his words or leave and miss more of what he had to say. The latter won, pulling you away from the door. 
You knew you were never going to be the smartest person in the room, and in the past, it was a source of deep-seated insecurity, always a silent specter in the corners of your mind. But then you met Aaron. And he made everything just better. His own intelligence and impressive job never became a yardstick for your worth; he ensured you knew you were more than enough, just as you were.
He had always been the voice reminding you that you were smart in your own right, telling you that your worth transcended any numerical measure of intelligence like a stupid IQ score. But now you were questioning everything. 
Anger seemed like the appropriate response, right? But it was hard to be when his words carried a weight of truth to them. 
You did have a hard time keeping up when he talked about the complexities of his cases, sometimes feeling like an outsider looking in. But, even if you didn't understand, his passion for what he did was infectious, and you hung on to every word when he explained all the ways his smart brain was able to deduce things about people. 
Still, a part of you imagined it was hard for him, that it probably got old fast when you weren't able to hold an intelligent conversation. 
Your knuckles were white against the steering wheel, and it somehow took you only ten minutes to get home when it should've taken you twenty.
It was only when you had taken a shower, put on your favorite pair of pink sweats, brought out some Ben and Jerry's, and turned on Legally Blonde, did you check your phone.
Hi honey. What time are you coming over?
You tried to ignore the sensation of an invisible band drawing tighter across your chest. 
so sorry, not feeling good. rain check? xoxo
You hated lying to him. Hated lying in general, save for the occasional white lie to protect someone's feelings. The fact that you weren't lying to his face was a small mercy, because obviously he'd be able to see right through you.
Do you want me to come there? I can bring food.
You wanted to be with him, you really did, you had been counting down the days to this movie night all week. But the thought of sitting beside him, wanting to ask about his day, about his work, now seemed like an intrusion. Knowing that your well-intentioned questions might be a chore for him or a source of frustration. The realization pressed down on you, a heavy weight that threatened to snuff your light.
no that's okie! thank you though <3 i don't want to get you sick!
Your phone was ringing, his name lighting up the screen for a FaceTime call, it felt like a betrayal of your own making. It was a skill you had recently taught him (which took forever), and of course now he was using it. Your finger jabbed at the red button, your cheeks turning the same color. 
i look & sound disgustinggg rn
I know for a fact that's incorrect. You have a magical talent of looking incredible no matter what.
I want to see your pretty face.
you can be so flattering when u want to mister!
im going to take some medicine & then ill call u l8, k?
Hmm, okay.
love u! xoxo
I love you too, pretty girl.
You hated this. Your eyes were puffy, swollen and wet as you discarded the phone onto the nightstand. He deserved someone who wasn't so pathetic. 
You wallowed in self-pity all night, and then all day, and then all week. You went through the motions--getting up, going to work, and then making up some lame excuse when Aaron asked to see you. Name it, and you had probably said it. In reality, you had been holed up in your room, trading glossy magazine pages for confusing behavioral books.
The subject matter was as dull as dishwater, making paint-watching seem thrilling. But you were committed to bringing some depth to your next conversation with him.
Today's excuse had been some half-truths about being buried in work--which in hindsight seemed comical, given you worked at a bakery and there wasn't much that could take up your time outside of contract hours.
You were splayed across the couch in an upside-down sprawl as you attempted to focus on the scholarly gibberish that filled the pages. 'Homology,' 'dichotomy,' and 'typology' melded into a migraine-inducing blur, tempting you to slam the book shut. You were fighting every urge to throw it out the window and paint your nails with that new glittery polish you've been dying to try.
At the insistent knock, you clapped the book shut (thank god) and stood, brows knitting, as you navigated to the door with a soft scuffle of slippers on polished wood. 
Flinging it open, you halted, breath caught. "Aaron? Oh, hi, what are you doing here?"
The words sprang forth before you could catch them, your hands scrambling up to smooth the evidence of your couch-induced disarray. 
He fixes you a pointed stare as he steps into your apartment, invitation be damned you guess. "I find myself repeating this, yet it seems necessary--peephole first, then the door, sweetheart."
You clamp your teeth onto your lip with such force, you're convinced you've tasted blood. "Oh, right, sorry... I should've remembered."
A flicker of foolishness and a heavy dose of self-consciousness threaten to surface. However, you quickly subdue them, tucking them away as you wrapped your arms around your body, offering him a small smile. Despite everything, your heart leaps at the sight of him. You missed him.
His face softens, his touch soft as he tilts your chin upward. "Look at me. It's fine. I just want to make sure my best girl is safe, that's all."
The temptation to simply crumble there and then, to forget everything and cocoon yourself in his arms, was overwhelming. 
You leaned into his hand without thinking, which now claimed the entire area of your cheek. He was always so warm. 
You watch as Aaron glances around the room, no doubt noting the absence of work-related clutter. "Still working?"
"Oh, I was, I told my boss I'd help with inventory reports." That part wasn't totally a lie, but it still made your conscience squirm with guilt.
"Do you want help?"
The proposal touches a raw nerve, sparking a defensive reflex. Did he think you were incapable?
 "Thanks, but I'm actually all done with them," you lie, your a smile a little too rigid as you head into the living room.
You're keenly aware of his approaching footsteps as you hastily stash that stupid book under a magazine, silently praying he didn't notice. You settle onto the couch, and he joins you, casually drawing your legs over his lap as you recline against the cushions.
"How was your day?"
You wince internally at the automatic question. 
"Not too bad," He replies with an easy shrug, his fingers sneaking under your sweats at the ankles, tracing lazy circles on your calves. "We wrapped up some paperwork, had a couple of briefings, and oh, we were introduced to our new consultant today. She specializes in crypto linguistics--really fascinating stuff."
Your eyes flutter briefly, a constriction forming in your throat, a twist in your gut. The mere mention of the consultant being a she amplifies your feelings of insufficiency. It leaves you wondering, why would Aaron ever be interested in someone like you?
"Crypto linguistics?" you repeat, trying to sound curious rather than lost. 
He leans in closer to you. "It's a specialized area of linguistics focused on decoding encrypted languages."
You offer a nod, managing a convincing "Yeah, of course," even as your eyes unwittingly drift away from his unwavering stare, betraying a hint of your confusion.
Aaron's hand cradles your head, his fingers sifting through your hair. "Hey," he murmurs, drawing your attention back, "what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
Your chin touches your chest as you mumble, barely audible, "hardly anything."
Aaron's expression turns to a frown, his broad hands guiding your ass and thighs as he positions you atop his lap, face-to-face, leaving you exposed with no place to hide. Your name escapes him with a sigh. "I don't believe that for a second."
You match his frown with your own pout, nestling your face into his neck, concealing the rosy hue that has claimed your cheeks. "Just a rough week is all."
"Is that so?" His voice was a gentle murmur, his hands soothingly moving in gentle sweeps across your back as you breathed out unsteadily. "Funny, that's been my week too. My gorgeous girlfriend seems to have been avoiding me all week."
"Have not," you mumble, your breath warm against his skin, fingers weaving through the hair at the nape of his neck.
He hummed. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong."
"It's silly."
He guided your face back to his, eyes searching yours. "Listen to me. No, it's not. I don't like when you try to diminish your feelings. Talk to me, honey."
That was your tipping point. A wobble in your lip betrays the onset of tears as your voice breaks.
"I just--I know I'm not as smart as the people you work with or even your past girlfriends. I know I don't get things right away especially when you talk about work, and I see how everyone else is so quick, and I'm here, always a few steps behind. I know that it must be frustrating for you, and I'm scared that one day, you'll get tired of explaining, and your patience will run out, and well, you'll see... you'll see that--"
"Baby, whoa, slow down," Aaron urges, his palms tenderly framing your face, a frown plastered over his face. Your heart hammers against your chest, its rapid beats almost audible, as if it might jump from your body. "Take a deep breath, okay? Can you do that for me?"
You draw in a breath.
His thumb delicately erases the tears that have made their way down your cheek.
"When there is something about my work you don't understand, I will gladly go over it as many times as you need. I don't expect you to know everything about that stuff, why would you? That's not why I'm with you. I'm with you because of your incredibly kind heart and the way you see the best in people. I love you because you are you. What is making you think this way, honey? It's breaking my heart."
"I overheard you Aaron," you said, "saying that sometimes it feels like you're talking to a wall when you talk to me."
"What?" he questioned, but his confusion was quickly morphed into concern. "Oh, sweetheart, no. I was talking about Strauss and her lack of understanding of our fieldwork."
"Oh."
"I would never speak about you like that, you know that, right? And if, in some alternate universe, I did, you need to break up with me, or better yet, set me straight." His hands stayed firmly on your face. "You should never tolerate that from me or anyone else, understood?"
You bit down on your lip, hands resting on his shoulders as you nodded. "Yes, sir."
He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, sending fireworks to every inch of you as he mumbled against your mouth, "that's my girl."
taglist: @hotchhner
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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months
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DCxDP fanfic idea: In 30 minutes or less!
Danny is a delivery man.
He got the job after realizing his resume was severely lacking in terms of working experience.
Also when he needed more money for his own purchases. There is a big difference between begging his parents for an allowance and earning his own spending funds.
The thing is, no matter where Danny applied, he was not getting a call back. Jazz warned him that a majority of Amity Park didn't hire them - as she also attempted to get a part-time job when she was his age - because of the Fenton last name.
She swore and hissed, but she couldn't prove that it was the reason they weren't hired. She just heard the talk around the town. They all said they wouldn't want to hire from the lunatic family.
That whenever a Fenton went , something bad quickly followed.
It stung, that not even Nasty Burger wanted him. That placed hired people under sixteen for Pete's sake. But Danny was resourceful. If Amity Park hadn't hired him, then he would just try the other place he had civilianship in.
The Infinite Realms.
Danny figured that if societies existed with the Realms, then they had to have a form of currency. He just needed to find one that used the same one as his world did.
FrostBite was more than happy to point him in the right direction. Since his people were the ones to spend generations attempting to map out the Realms, he had found a part of the ghost zone that Danny could blend into easily.
It was only a thirty minute commute from Danny's family portal. He could easily make that after school.
Thus, Danny flew to the portal location FrostBite told him about and ended up in a place called Central City. He found employment very quickly at Joel's Pizza, and for sixteen dollars a hour he was racing across the city to give some sizzling pizza pies.
. He was given a company scooter, but Danny preferred to fly. No one saw him as he never turned off his invisibly until he arrived at the destination. He got great tips for his speed, and his boss was fun to work for.
His parents are proud that he has a job and is not causing trouble. His friends also have their own jobs so Sam and Tucker have to plan their meet ups now- buts that's just a part of growing up.
The only thing that made his part-time difficult was the ghosts. Not all of them bothered him now a days but a few still did.
Like Young Blood. The brat didn't seem to care that Danny was going to be late to a shift since he had no concept of the importance of adult responsibilities. He was able to text his boss an apology using school as an excuse, but he was still thirty minutes late and sporting a black eye.
Joel stared at him for a long moment, muttered something in Spanish, before handing him five pizza boxes, and told him to take it to the central city police department. Danny was supirse he didn't even lecture him.
When he got to the station, the person in front told him to wait a moment since it was the forensic department that ordered food. He waited a few minutes until a blond man came down the hall, with a cheerful smile.
That smile fell when Danny turned to look at him. There was a brief flash of something dark that crossed his expression before the smile was back ten fold
"Hello," Danny said, standing up. "Order for Barry?
"That's me!" The man grins, holding out a wad of cash "Keep the change."
Wow. A fifty dollar tip!
"Sure thanks!"
"Welcome kid!"
Danny practically skipped away, Barry Watching him climb onto his scooter and slowly blending back into the traffic.
He turned to look at Officer Dawn "Is it just me or was that kid covered in bruises?"
Officer Dawn's mustache twitches with displeasure. "He definitely was. Looked fresh, too. Not only that but he works for Joel Pizza"
"This Joel a trouble maker?"
"The opposite, he was a foster kid. Once he aged out and got his own business, he started hiring teenagers in similar situations. Usually, his staff are all kids who are having a rough time. If things are too bad, he makes reports, but we try to avoid it. Don't want to lose one of the few trustworthy safe spaces for those kids." Officer Dawn's hesitates for a second before he carefully asks."A cop poking around may spook them, but a forensic chemist won't. Do you mind finding out what the delivery kid's deal is for me?"
"I look into it." Barry promises already knowing the Flash is also going to be following the boy just to make sure he safe.
He hates it when kids get hurt. Remind him too much of Wally.
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planetaryupscaled · 2 months
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Yield to Temptation
Male OC x Jisoo
Tags: 13k, cheating, dub con, oral, creampie
The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.
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“You don’t really think that will happen, do you?”
It was the kind of night out that Jisoo hadn’t had in a very long time, maybe ever. Celebrating her friend special day, Lisa. the girls had all gotten together for a night out. Drinks, dinner, a black car to shuttle them all around.
After two glasses of wine at dinner, and then a shot or two of some fruity drink, Jisoo had settled into her seat at the table, enjoying the sights in a way that was hard to imagine for a married mother of two.
The other girls in the group were more rambunctious, and generally behaving like the wild girls that they had once been. Jisoo was more than happy to sit quietly, share an occasional laugh, and check out the eye candy.
One hour turned into two, and the shots were flowing freely. Even with only a few drinks in her, Jisoo was becoming three sheets to the wind. At five feet tall and a little bit more than one hundred pounds, even at her best Jisoo couldn’t handle more than a few drinks. Usually, she stopped drinking before she had the feeling of losing control, but with car service for the evening and a bit of coaxing from her friends, Jisoo was quite intoxicated as the evening wore on.
Lisa had disappeared into the back for a “private dance” with a muscular dancer whom she had been paying attention to all evening, courtesy of her friends’ generosity. “She’s going to get lucky tonight!” said Jennie to Jisoo as Lisa followed her chosen suitor into the back.
“You don’t really think that will happen, do you?” asked a surprised Jisoo in response. “I know it’s a 'private' dance, but there’s no way anything serious will happen, is there?”
Jennie laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “I’m really not sure, but...if it’s up to Lisa, she’ll definitely make sure it does, and I doubt that they would mind.” Jennie smiled a bit, coyly, at Jisoo. “there’s only one way to find out...we should send YOU back there.”
Jisoo laughed. They both knew, of all of the girls, Jisoo was the least likely to do anything like that. Straightlaced, she married a businessman not long after she left the group, and other than having fun at her own bachelorette party, she hadn’t even touched another man in like, ten years?
Not that it would have been difficult to do. Jisoo had beautiful brown eyes, full lips, and a pretty face framed by dark brown-ish hair that fell neatly behind her shoulders. Despite her petite frame, she had curves in all of the right places. Her hips flared out into a perfect ass, and her slender tummy led up to a lovely set of tits. Her breasts were still wonderfully perky, even after two children. She was often referred to as cute owing to her size, or girl-next-door pretty, but there was no question that if Jisoo wanted to attract male attention, she’d have no lack of suitors.
“How about him?” Said Jennie drunkenly, pointing to Jisoo a tall, attractive dancer with big brown eyes and light reddish-brown hair. Jisoo giggled a bit...the dancer that Jennie had picked was indeed the one that Jisoo had been eying most of the evening. Either Jennie had noticed, or she just knew Jisoo’s type. a swimmers body… this was definitely the guy that Jisoo would have picked for a dance, but she had no intention of having a dance, in public or private, this evening.
Before she could say anything, though, Jennie was waving her arms, getting the attention of the guy in question. He smiled and acknowledged her, casually starting over towards their table.
One he was facing them, something else became clear. He was clearly very, very well equipped down below. None of the them seemed to be lacking in that department, given their job description, but the huge bulge that this particular performer had was clearly impressive, as if his shorts could barely contain it.
He arrived at the girl’s table, and was greeted to noisy catcalls from the now very drunk and boisterous group.
He introduced himself to Jennie first, extending a hand. “Hi, I’m Jin,” he said over the blaring music. “Are you ladies having fun tonight?”
“Absolutely!” Jennie replied. Motioning towards Jisoo, she continued, “My friend here is feeling a bit shy, but she would really enjoy a dance with you.” Jisoo felt her cheeks go red with embarrassment, and she looked away, a bit perturbed that Jennie was making a spectacle of her like this.
“Sure thing!” he said, enthusiastic. “I always love dancing for the gorgeous ones!” Jisoo felt her cheeks burn, but looked up to him and attempted a smile. His brown eyes stared back at her, as if sizing her up for something, and he spotted a broad grin on his handsome face. Jisoo did enjoy the compliment and managed a weak smile and a nod.
In response, Jin turned his attention away from Jennie and, facing Jisoo, extended his hand again. “Hi, I’m Jin. What’s your name, pretty?” The familiarity with which he spoke to her was actually calming, a bit. She felt her cheeks cool a bit, and extended her small hand towards him. He pulled it towards him, and his huge hand enveloped hers.
The warmth of his grasp surprised her. “I’m Jisoo,” she stated nervously, looking up at him apprehensively. His brown eyes sparkly as he smiled back warmly at her. A lump caught in her throat, and she smiled back, swallowing hard.
“Well, Jisoo, your friend tells me that you’d like a dance.” He stood very close to her, and she caught his smell, a clean, soapy smell. His hips thrust out just a hint, slowly. She realized how close her face was to his generous package, and started to get a bit unnerved.
She leaned back, away from him, and looked up. “I’m sorry if my friends gave you the wrong idea, I’m really not looking for that tonight.” Jisoo found herself laughing nervously as he said it.
Jin kept at it, though. “Oh, c’mon...you wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings, would you?” He gave a fake wounded look.
Jisoo giggled drunkenly. “You don’t want to dance for me, I’m no fun - I’m married!” She waived him off half-heartedly, but clearly enjoying the attention.
“A pretty lady like you, married? What are you doing in a place like this? Your husband is crazy to let you out of his sight!” Jin picked up her left hand, running his long fingers over her wedding band. “You’re lucky that you found me...there are some men in here who wouldn’t be as polite as me if they knew you were taken,” he continued, then His voice dropped into a husky whisper. “I’ll take good care of you, protect you from that element.” Jisoo giggled, and let his hand continue to linger on hers. In response, he placed his hand around her wrist, pulling her hand up and placing it on his flat, muscled stomach. She didn’t stop him, or pull her hand away. Instead, she blushed, running her hand up and down his chiselled abs. Her heart fluttered.
“Go ahead, Jisoo, have some fun for once!” Her friend Lisa called from the end of the table. Jisoo glared at her friend for a moment, and then smiled a mischievous grin.
“I’m not doing it in front of everyone!” She retorted, her hand still lingering on his chest. Her friends howled with laughter.
“Then we’ll get you a private!” Cried Jennie. “Jin, how much to send you in the back with this girl and make her smile?” She pulled out her purse. “She should be free, you know, she needs to learn to have fun!”
Jin smiled down towards Jisoo, and placing his hand over hers, pulled his head down and gave her hand a lingering kiss. “I agree, I wouldn’t dream of charging this treasure, the pleasure would be all mine.” They were clearly drunk, though the fact that she was even a part of this meant that she probably was as well. Oh well, she thought to herself, it’s just a little harmless flirting...
Jin grabbed Jisoo firmly but gently by the arm. She allowed herself to be pulled up, and found herself wobbling next to him, blushing like crazy and definitely drunk.
Jin took her hand in his and started to lead her away from the table. Her friends began to applaud and catcall her as she turned away from them, following Jin. He turned around once more, with a final grin to the table. “Don’t worry, ladies, I’ll bring her back safely before you know it!” Jisoo heard their howls of laughter as she allowed herself to be led away, towards what appeared to be a private area in the back.
Am I really doing this? She thought to herself as she followed the stranger down a dimly lit hallway. He turned to her and said, “relax, it’s really harmless fun, if you want it to be. The customer sets the limits, and we make sure everything is on the up-and-up.” He pulled her closer to him, and they stopped in the hallway. He placed his arm gently around her waist, pulling her in a bit. His other hand brushed her hair away from her face, behind her ear. He is gorgeous, she thought to herself, as he leaned in a bit. “I’m really glad you came here...most of the girls aren’t the type I’m attracted to.”
Jisoo continued to blush, but liked where the conversation was going; his compliments seemed genuine. “And what am I?” She asked, her response tinged with a bit of sass. If she was going to have fun, she thought, might as well enjoy the role for the evening and get a few compliments.
“You, Jisoo, are the type of girl I want to dance for in private, and impress. I love petite beautiful lady with lovely figures…” He paused, and pointed towards a wooden door next to him. “This is my private ‘dance studio’ for the evening. Would you care to see it?” Jisoo simply nodded. “Whew,” he said, grinning, “I was worried that you were going to let me down gently.” He opened the door, and Jisoo, curious to find out what would happen next, walked in. Jin grabbed his friend walking by, and whispered something to him
“What was that about?” Jisoo asked, her interest piqued. “Trying to get him to join us, don’t think you’re enough for me?” She giggled — she didn’t even feel like herself, this wasn’t her talking.
Jin grinned, “I was just letting him know to tell the manager I won’t be back on the floor for a while. As for if I’m enough for you...I’ll let you decide.”
Jisoo traced her eyes up and down his body, lingering on the bulge in his crotch, unable to look away, transfixed. “I think you might be too much for me...” She tentatively whispered.
Jin pulled his arm around her, and eased her towards the room entrance. “I promise that it’s just the right amount for you.” he muttered into her ear as she passed by. Jisoo had a chill go down her spine. What was this man expecting to happen? What, she thought to herself, did she expect to happen?
The room was dimly lit, with a small day bed next to it. The sight alarmed her a bit. “Umm...I don’t know if this is a great idea...” said Jisoo, worried a bit about what the bed meant.
Jin rushed to reassure her, standing behind her and rubbing her shoulders and neck. “No, the bed is just because it’s more comfortable and taller than a couch,” he assured her. “Most of the us are quite tall, this lets the customer be at the right level, is all.” He escorted her over to the bed, “here, sit down, remember, you set the limits, so if you’re ever uncomfortable, we can stop.”
“I should probably go,” she said hesitantly, “I really shouldn’t be here, or do this...” Jisoo looked up at Jin, innocently, but made no move. She was clearly drunk, and he knew, willing to be convinced otherwise.
“Don’t be silly,” he replied reassuringly, and he placed both of his hands on her shoulders, and, guiding her gently, sat her down on the side of the bed. Jisoo slumped down on the bed, and, his hands still on her shoulders, turned to the side to allow him to sit beside her. He sat next to her, only the outsides of their legs pressing against one another.
Jisoo tried to relax, rolling her head to try to get her bearings, shake some sense into herself. She closed her eyes to try to keep her drunk mind from swimming away. All of the alcohol had finally sunk in, and she was drunk, and getting drunker from the feel of it.
Jin’s hands began to kneed her shoulders to her neck, and Jisoo simply melted into him. Within seconds she was leaning back into the source of this bliss, as if she had been waiting for this backrub for eternity.
His hands were warm, and strong, and he massaged her shoulders, down to her arms, and then back up, to her back. She was lost in the moment when she felt his hand slip under the back of her shirt, and she murmured, “Hey, mister...I’m a married...”. But she offered no resistance nor moved in the slightest. His hands traveled past her bra back up to her shoulders, and Jisoo felt a contented sigh escape her lips.
Without a word, his fingers slid under the skimpy shoulder straps of her bra, and pushed them down onto her arms. Jisoo remained quiet, though pushing her arms out to aid him as he slid them down her arms. She was becoming a silent, yet willing, accomplice, she knew.
His hands moved in circles around her upper back, then moving down to her lower back, tracing her bra strap for the briefest of moments with his long fingers. He pressed expertly into her lower back, and Jisoo groaned at the unexpected release of tension. His hands moved slowly, deliberately out to the side, as soon stopped. He was pressed into her, she back into him, and she could feel his short breaths on her neck. The massage had stopped, briefly, and he was simply behind her, holding her tenderly, erotically. She yielded to his touch, leaning back further.
“Is this, okay?” He asked in a hoarse voice. His hands ran up her sides, slowly, pausing just under the fabric of her bra. Jisoo nodded her approval.
“Yes...” She whispered, “this feels so good...” His hands paused for a moment longer, then, began soft circles on her sides, under her arms. Jisoo relaxed her arms, allowing him easier access, subtly willing him to continue his slow, deliberate movement towards the forbidden. His index fingers moved further up, and towards the front, and began to brush against the underside of her bra. With each slow circle, he became bolder, and the fingers that were first simply stroking the sides of her bra, were now full running over her breasts.
Jisoo had been murmuring softly as the tease began, but was now frozen in place as she wondered how far she could let this go before it was over the line. After all, her passive response, along with the multiple drinks in her system, assuaged any guilt she might have had. She dismissed her involvement as simply being along for the ride. Really, she was just here because her friends had coerced her into it.
But now...what should be just a dance from a handsome stranger had turned into a shoulder rub, which was turning into a very erotic massage. She felt as excited and nervous as she had in high school, and then...the light touches on her bra turned into squeezing, gentle at first but firmer, so that her bra-covered tits were being firmly held by the stranger hands. Then she felt Jin’s very soft, warm lips on her shoulder, pressing down and lingering. Jisoo could feel her nipples harden in response to the attention that paid to her breasts. Involuntarily, she moaned, the overwhelming sensations and danger of the evening finally breaking through her prim exterior.
Jin took the signal and went with it. His hands stopped squeezing her breasts and, unceremoniously, lifted her bra from below, freeing her perfect, perky breasts. His hands ran gently over her aroused nipples, pinching them gently cupping her breasts underneath. Jisoo whimpered, softly, as his lips pressed down on her shoulders, then to the back of her neck. His strong arms had fully encircled her, and she was yielding to him, fully.
His lips were now at her jawline, and Jisoo realized that her lips would soon be on his at this rate, and what choice did she have, really? Clearly this man knew how to push buttons that she didn’t realize she had, and her friends had pressured her into this situation. She rationalized all of this as she fell deeper into her erotic trance, and became actually aware of how very damp she was between her legs. Jisoo knew that her primal instincts were taking over, and that the slippery slope she was on could get much, much steeper.
As if on cue, one of Jin’s warm hands released her right breast, and began to slide down her soft, tight stomach towards her waist. His lips pressed hard into her neck, almost possessively, and his fingers found their way under the waistband of her skirt. He pressed her labia through her soaking cotton panties, and an “mmm...” Escaped his lips as he acknowledged her clearly aroused state.
Jisoo swallowed hard, becoming nervous for the first time, yet incredibly aroused. He was seducing her, successfully. An expert, he was priming the innocent wife to be fucked, and she was failing every test of willpower. His right hand rubbed her pussy through her undies, and she whimpered, because she knew she was soon going to lose the battle of wills that she desperately had to win. His fingers pushed under the elastic of her underwear, and began to slide down towards the prize that he sought from her.
Jisoo moaned, in frustration, but tried valiantly to save her purity. Her hand reached across and grabbed his. “Jin- baby...I can’t. I’m married. You can’t touch me there.” Jin relented, pulling his hand out and dropping his other hand from her breast. He wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her neck, repeatedly. Jisoo wanted to cry in frustration, she was so aroused. “I’m so sorry...” she whispered, trying to turn towards him. In her drunken state, she was actually feeling more guilty about leading him on than anything else.
“Okay darling...whatever you want.” He kissed her neck softly, lingering. “Can I dance for you, please?”
Jisoo nodded her head, as this would stop the physical contact between them which was set to put her over the edge. It would also, she thought, give her a chance to see his rock-hard body a bit more, and was clearly a safer option than the path that they had just been traveling down.
Jisoo adjusted her bra, covering her perfect, still-aroused breasts, and sat back a bit on the bed as Jin stood up.
His hands on his hips, Jin began to slowly grind his pelvis in front of her. She stared admiringly at the muscled body in front of her, and was clearly enjoying the show. Jin took one of her hands, and then the other, placing both of them on his hips. He moved in a bit more, and then, still dancing, slowly slid her hands with his towards his rear. “I am definitely too drunk,” Jisoo thought to herself as she squeezed his tight bottom with her hands. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to take advantage of me in my drunken state!” She said, trying to lighten the mood. She ran her hands up and down his tight bottom, lifting his cheeks with a gentle squeeze, as if to emphasize her point.
Jin murmured appreciatively. “I hope you like what you see,” he said, “you can touch anywhere you’d like, that you’re comfortable with. I’ll let you know if it’s not okay. But...”, and he paused for effect. “Anywhere you touch is okay with me.”
In her drunken state, Jisoo took the bait. She found herself leaning in a bit, running her hands from his backside, and then up and down his flat stomach to his chest. Her mind shut off, and animal instincts took over. She found herself breathing a bit heavier, as Jin moved ever closer to her.
Their bodies practically touching, Jisoo had a full view of the monstrous lump that had been apparent before. It was straining against the fabric, clearly swelled even further from their extracurricular activities just moments before. The soapy scent from his skin was heavy in the air, and part of her was thrilled, and nervous, that she was having such an effect on him. The knowledge that the attraction was mutual gave her a boldness that she didn’t know she had. She leaned in, and kissed his abs, gently. Then again, and again. His soft skin felt warm against her lips, and she could feel herself beginning to get wet, again. She could also feel the heat radiating from his groin, and she knew that he was enjoying this on much more than a professional level.
“You can kiss any part of me that you’d like.” Jin stated matter of factly. Jisoo was feeling tipsy, and somehow, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. It was still less dangerous than the situation from earlier, and now the petite housewife was the one in control found herself in control. She leaned in, giggling a bit. His g-string covered lump rubbed up against her cheek. it was hot, and she could feel it stir as it slid against her left cheek, then her right. His hip shifted, and there it was, in front of her.
“Go ahead, kiss it. There’s no harm...” She didn’t even look up to see his face, she could hear his grin in his words. Jisoo giggled again. This was getting crazy!
She leaned forward, closed her eyes, and without thinking further, kissed it, gently. It was just fabric, after all. No harm, really, just harmless flirting. And she heard his moan, and kissed it, again, her lips lingering against the warmth. She opened her eyes, to see it, rock hard, and she felt it pushing against her lips. He moaned again. Jisoo closed her eyes, her head getting dizzy, her lower body stirring in lust.
“Do you want to see it?” he calmly asked, and hypnotically, Jisoo simply nodded, her brown eyes opening again, to gaze on the massive bulge covered by shorsts. She wanted nothing more in the world than to see it. Jin’s fingers pulled down on the sides of his shorts, slowly. The shorts was pulled down, and what had been a tease, a fabric-covered lump, was now going to be very real, and very large, in front of her.
As the fabric pulled away, his penis sprang out in front of her, only inches from her face, quivering, throbbing, waiting. It was massive, at least nine inches or more, so thick with a large, purple head. It stood proudly at attention, hard as steel, and she felt mesmerized by the large veins of the underside, tracing from the bottom of the glans all the way to the base.
Jisoo simply stared, equal parts in shock and fascination. She sat frozen. It was perfect, in every way, and she felt her body start to react. Her mouth began to water, just a bit, and she licked her lips instinctively. Her cotton panties were clearly soaked, she knew. The desire her body felt for him, for his monstrous organ, was palpable. The martinis from the previous hour had removed any sense of decorum and most of her inhibition.
She stared up at him, apprehensively, her beautiful brown eyes locking on his, quizzically, as if deciding how to react. He smiled at her, and, reaching down and placing his hand on her wrist, as if waiting for her to make the move. This was so foreign to her, she didn’t know the decorum. “Can I...” She started, pausing. There was a moment of silence. Jisoo had to put it out there, but couldn’t bring herself to say it, and break the last remaining boundary between them.
He smiled at her, their eyes locking. “Do you want to touch it?” he asked gently. Jisoo, trembling a bit, simply nodded her answer. Yes, she thought, I want to touch it very badly.
“Touch it, then.” Jin whispered hoarsely, his fingers wrapping around her wrist, and pulling her hand upwards towards his manhood. “It’s okay to want to touch it. I want you to. I would love you to.” he added.
He pulled her hand up, and placed it, silently, on his massive member. Her fingers closed around the thick shaft, unable to wrap them completely around it. It was warm in her hand, she could feel it throbbing. Her curiosity overcame her, she squeezed it, gently. She heard his moan, and she looked up at him. He was smiling down at her, and she almost laughed at how surreal this was. This was so out of character, it didn’t seem real. Jisoo was a good wife, she would never do this for real...but here, it was just curiosity, just fun. It didn’t have to mean anything. And Jin’s penis was so obscenely large, it couldn’t be real, but it needed to be touched. She needed to touch it. Jisoo rubbed her petite hand up and down on the huge, veiny shaft, exploring her newfound toy.
She put her other hand on it as well, and with both hands wrapped around it, there was still an inch or two, before even reaching the massive head at the end. It didn’t seem real, but it was very much so, the heat that it gave off as she slowly ran her hands up and down it enchanting her. He murmured his appreciation, and Jisoo realized in her drunken state that she was slowly jacking him off. A slow, sensual hand job had begun. She stared at the diamond on her wedding band, glimmering in the light, as it dawned on her how much trouble she was going to be in if this continued. His sounds told her that he was enjoying this. Her primal urge was winning out. She wanted, needed this. And, as she was starting to realize that tonight at least...if she wanted it, she would get it, and good.
The pace of her strokes had begun to increase, and Jin’s breathing quickened, with Jisoo’s top hand running lovingly over his head, still hard but softer than the steel below, her finger tracing languidly over his hole. A small string of pre cum connected her finger to his glans as she pulled it away, and Jisoo bit her lip, in hunger and uncertainty. The string of fluid might as well have drawn her in. She felt her own breathing quicken, and she had to fight the instinct to put her finger in her mouth and taste it, knowing that one taste wouldn’t be enough, and lead to much worse. But it was clear, this needed to end, before it went any further.
Jisoo paused, her one hand never releasing his giant phallus. She looked up at him. “I should go...my friends will be waiting.” Jisoo knew that words rang hollow, her hand still slowly stroking his perfect cock, not willing to release its prized toy.
Jin just chuckled a little bit, and ran his hand from behind her ear, to her chin, leaving it there. “Your friends paid for you to have a half hour of fun back here, and it’s only been a few minutes. I guarantee they have completely lost track of time, anyways,” he reasoned with her. “We don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to, okay? We can stop anytime.”
As if to demonstrate, he backed away from her slightly, but Jisoo didn’t release her grasp from him. He looked down at her hand, the contrast between her small, ring-covered hand and his monstrous manhood was apparent, and very erotic. “Besides,” he added, motioning down, “I don’t think that you want to stop, do you?”
*
Jisoo averted her gaze from him, shame filling her a bit. “No,” she quietly replied, “I don’t want to stop.” She stroked his shaft lovingly, from the very tip to the base. Her other hand reached down, and stroked his exposed testicles. They were heavy in her hand. Jin groaned quietly. He loved it, she knew it. There were no limits anymore.
Jin had her, and they both knew it. A moment of awkward silence followed. He ran his hand absently through her hair, and then placed his hand underneath her chin, propping her head up. Her large brown eyes stared at his sparkling ones, and he smiled. “Then don’t. You know what to do.”
His hips thrust out, moving towards her face. Her hand remained on the base of his cock, and his hips gyrated, and Jisoo found his monster brushing against her cheek, slowly. Jisoo turned her cheek away, still a bit nervous about what was to come. Again, he slowly rubbed his cock head against her other cheek, this time, more slowly. Jisoo moaned. It was so close. “I can’t do this...” she heard herself say, as she prepared to do exactly what she shouldn’t. She felt the warm tip of his huge cock trace slowly across her lips, and she held still...paralyzed...entranced. It drew away from her, slowly, reluctantly, when she did not offer access to it.
And then she saw a thin line of fluid, connecting from her bottom lip to the hole on his glans. Oh no...she thought. Her free hand reached up to her lip. Feeling moisture, she knew. Instinctively, her tongue licked her bottom lip. It was sticky, sweet, yet salty. She moaned, as she tasted it, involuntarily. She felt herself getting wet, down there. Jisoo whimpered once more.
“I’m a good wife, I’m not like this…I need this,” she thought to herself. No one has to know, she reasoned with herself. Jisoo was quickly sinking in deep, talking herself into it.
She was a good wife. She was a faithful wife. But she was going to be neither tonight. She was giving it all up tonight - for a stranger’s cock.
Jin knew it as well. She was so close to breaking, and he knew that she just needed the smallest, gentlest encouragement. He slowly placed his huge cock against her lips, and Jisoo could hear his breathing, shallow, his excitement matching her own. “Please, baby. Put it in your mouth. You’ll love it. We both will. Please...” he paused. “Just for us. Let’s have tonight.”
“No one will ever know.”
She was frozen in place, staring at his mammoth snake, still with her hand wrapped around it. He leaned carefully towards her, slowly, and his giant mushroom head kissed her still-closed lips.
Jisoo looked up at him with trepidation. “I can’t...” she murmured, but he simply used the moment that she opened her mouth to push forward. The tip of his head rested for the moment on her bottom lip, her mouth open just a touch. Her pretty eyes locked on his, revealing her confusion, and her lust. They pleaded with him, make this decision for me...they said. I won’t say no. He smiled, and slowly pushed his monstrous head between her lips, and instinctively, passively, she opened her perfect lips further. His head slid in, barely fitting, his hand placed behind her head, holding it there, caressing her hair lovingly. Jisoo was sucking cock tonight, whether she wanted to or not.
Jisoo’s head was spinning — explaining everything else was possible, but there was no way to explain a penis in her mouth, another man’s fluid on her lips. Jisoo tried to speak, feebly, half-heartedly seeking to extract herself from this situation, but as she opened her mouth to utter words, she felt the hand caressing her hair hold her in place. She was too drunk and aroused to know what to say.
Attempting to breathe, to get some air, to clear her head, she opened her mouth further, and he took this invitation to slide further into her mouth. She felt her tongue slide under the huge head now in her mouth. The taste of his pre cum swirled in her mouth, and she felt herself getting turned on even more as she realized what a wanton position she was now in. His one hand massaged her hair, and then her neck, and she heard his soft moans as she bobbed her head, slowly, down over his cock head and top of his shaft. She loved sucking cock, and this was the most beautiful cock she had ever seen. She was going to do this, she knew. Her hand was wrapped around the base of his shaft, not even half of him fitting in her petite mouth.
Jisoo took more of him into her mouth, no longer passively allowing him to have his way with her, but lovingly and enthusiastically pleasuring her new lover. His hands left her neck, as it was clear that she was now in deep and was entirely complicit in this act. She paused, pulling it out of her mouth, kissing the tip and slowly licking underneath. She felt herself falling deeply in love with this cock. She wondered what it would feel like to be penetrated by something so large...
His hands wandered down her back and under her top. She felt one hand swiftly and expertly release the clasp from her bra. Jisoo whimpered nervously but did not stop him from freeing her perfect, breasts from her bra. The same hands casually reached down and pulled her top over her head. For a moment, she released his cock from her grasp, and putting her arms up, allowed him the pleasure of seeing her nearly half-naked body.
She felt the air hit her bare chest, only her unclasped bra keeping her from being entirely nude from the waist up. She stared up at him again, and he smiled as his hands removed her bra completely. Her tits stood out proudly, her large, pronounced areolas erect from the combination of the exposed air and the eroticism of the situation that she found herself in. His hands cupped her firm tits, one in each hand, squeezing them gently. Both of his thumbs rubbed over the tips of her nipples, and Jisoo moaned with pleasure. She felt her pussy getting wetter, and began to wonder how to best take care of her need for release. She had never before felt so sexual, so desirable.
“Go ahead, you can touch yourself.” Jin commanded. “I want you to enjoy yourself with me.” Jisoo obeyed, sliding her hands underneath her skirt and past her already damp panties. She became vaguely aware that she had never before been as aroused as she was now, her right hand stroking her special spot as Jin’s hands massaged her tits. Jisoo never even masturbated, and now she was rubbing herself while sucking on a strange man’s penis. The wedding band on her left-hand gleamed, her small hand wrapped around his fat engorged penis.
Seeking a more comfortable position, Jisoo found herself sliding off of the bed, her knees pressing against the tile floor of the dimly lit room. Her hand remained pressed between her legs, rubbing her vaginal folds as she briefly paused from feeding herself this man’s beautiful penis.
Jisoo looked up at him, lust filling her brown eyes, and with Jin his perfect cock from her mouth. Slowly and deliberately, she kissed his tip, and then gave a long lick to the veiny underside of his member. She kept her eyes locked on him, and her large, liquid, coffee-colored eyes continued to plead with his in lust. She wanted him, and he could have her. She made it clear with only a look. At that point she knew she had lost any control of the situation. Jisoo, now on her knees in service to Jin, was surrendering to the moment. Jisoo was becoming a slut. And she loved it.
Jisoo looked up at this near-stranger, a look of lustful desperation in her eyes. “Please don’t come in my mouth,” she whispered, “please don’t make me swallow.” The implication was clear. He could cum, and she would help him climax, make him climax. This was no longer a moment of curiosity gone too far, this was a sexual moment that would go to full completion. Jisoo, now an unfaithful wife, couldn’t even pretend anymore. She wanted deeply to satisfy him, and herself in the process.
In speaking those words, Jisoo didn’t realize that she had given up any control of the situation. She was asking for something, but left the decision to her new partner. In somehow trying to maintain her dignity in a losing battle, she was surrendering to his decision. If he wanted to, he would cum in her mouth. And both of them now knew that she would let him, and she would swallow every drop if he so chose.
Jin just smiled at her, and said “Don’t worry, beautiful, that’s not where I want to put my cum.” In her drunken lust, Jisoo didn’t understand the meaning of those words, she just wanted his warm, throbbing cock back in her mouth again. She soon would learn what he meant.
She looked back down at the beautiful, gigantic cock in front of her and, looking back up at Jin’s brown eyes for approval, placed it gently into her mouth again, and resumed loving his huge manhood as best as she could. They locked eyes as she worshipped him with her mouth, her left hand grasping the base of his phallus while her right hand returned to her inflamed, nearly-bare pussy.
Here she sat, a married woman, kneeling on the floor next to a flimsy bed, sucking off a complete stranger and his huge cock as he played with her tits. She found her own orgasm starting to build as she stroked her clitoris in rhythm with her sucking, her tempo building and the buzzing beginning in her head, so close to release...but then, she felt his hands leave her swollen breasts, and reach under her arms, pulling her up from her knees and pushing her backward onto the bed. She fell drunkenly back onto the mattress, nearly on fire for an orgasm, and looked hopefully, nervously up at Jin. Her hand return to her exposed womanhood, and she prayed that he would soon give her release, with his own fingers or tongue. But that was not to be. Her new mate stared down at her intensely, and simply said “I need to fuck you now, gorgeous.”
Her legs splayed defenselessly, his hands reach towards her panties and made quick work of them, sliding them down her smooth legs and tossing them on the floor beside the bed. Jisoo offered no resistance at all - enthralled by what was happening. In a bemusing attempt to retain some form of modesty, she propped herself up on her elbows awkwardly, and shook her head no. “I can’t do that…I’m- I’m married,” she pleaded. She knew how hollow the words were. She knew if he pushed harder, she would give in. She wanted it as much as he did.
Jin reached for the table next to the bed, and pulled out something in a wrapper. “It’s OK, beautiful, I’ll wear a condom if you want.”
Jisoo fought her feelings, her urges, and almost gave in... Almost. “Not that...I- I just can’t,” she said “please - I’ll give you a blowjob, please?”
Jin laughed quietly, his hands peeling apart the condom wrapper. “No, baby. You want this, so why don’t you help put this on? Either that, or...I don’t have to wear one...” his voice trailed off, teasingly.
She sat up and grab his engorged cock and proceeded to put it back into her mouth, ending the discussion for the moment. Her hand return to her now unguarded pussy, stroking her clit wantonly. The blowjob had become urgent, not just out of lust, but needing to avoid what would be a far more dangerous scenario. Deep down, she knew that if Jin didn’t cum soon, his giant dick was going to find its way inside of her tight married womanhood. Her resistance was waning as her arousal built. She was curious about his huge cock, and if he tried again to fuck her, she knew that she would put up no resistance as he took her chastity.
He again pulled his massive cock from her lips, and she found herself staring at his hand, in which he held the condom. She looked up at him, and Jin smiled and placed the rubber into her hand. Jisoo took the condom, nervously, between her fingers, and, grasping the base of his cock, attempted to roll it on him.
It barely fit, and only with an obscene amount of stretching did the condom even manage to contain his massive head. Jisoo’s shaking hands did nothing to help matters, and she thought back to all of the times where she laughed at the idea that a condom wouldn’t fit. This one barely did. She also knew that she wasn’t just putting on a condom...she was giving permission for Jin to fuck her. Her heart was beating, and her face flushed, as she realized that the monstrous organ in front of her would soon be making its way inside of her most special of places.
It was on him, now, stretching only halfway down his huge appendage, and her hand continued to stroke the uncovered base of his cock as Jin’s hands returned to fondling her perky, perfect breasts. Then he began to lean into her, and Jisoo felt herself sliding backwards, onto her back. She released his manhood, and her back hit the soft blanket on top of the bed. She saw his shadow looming over her, and, her mind swimming, she closed her eyes, and felt the squeak of the mattress springs, and opened her mouth slightly as she felt her legs being parted by his large, rough hands. No sound came out.
In moments, he was on top of her, kissing her lips, the taste of Jin’s pre cum still in her mouth. She kissed back against his soft lips, his massive, sheathed penis pressing against her perfectly flat stomach. It occurred to her in her still-drunken state that this was their first kiss...it was nice, but it somehow made everything feel...real. Thoughts started to flood into her mind. She had been gone for quite some time...her friends sending her to the “back room” was nice, but it had probably been far more than a half hour since she had disappeared. They would wonder where she was.
“Jin,” Jisoo saying his name for the first time, “I have to go...my friends...” He put his finger to her lips. “Your friends think that you got sick and called for a ride home. When we were in the bathroom earlier I had my friend pass the word along.”
Jisoo gasped. Her ride home was gone. Her friends thought that she had left, and realizing the state that she was in, and how she looked, she knew that she couldn’t go back out there now without it becoming a scandal.
Jin smiled, as if he could read her thoughts. “If you want to go...I can make that ride happen. But you seemed to be enjoying yourself. “He leaned in and kissed her again. The struggle in her mind was waning quickly, and she kissed him back. Jisoo wasn’t going to be anyone’s wife tonight. She was going to be someone’s slut.
She felt his body wedge between her small legs. She knew what he was preparing for, but in her drunken passion she did nothing to slow him down. She felt him rub the underside of his latex-covered cock up and down her exposed labia, teasing her. She moaned. Up and down, up and down, her pussy leaking her fluids all over him, preparing for its invasion.
“We can’t do this, please...” He reached down and rubbed his tip against her entrance. Jisoo looked down...her fluids were coating the tip, her own body clearly inviting him in. She knew that her words were hollow, and the inevitable seemed only moments away. “Pleaseee...” She moaned again as his massive head began to rub between her pussy lips. But this time she wasn’t sure if she was saying no, or asking for it. And she knew it didn’t matter anyways, she was going to get fucked, and good. He chuckled softly and kissed her, silencing her protests.
The very tip of his penis pressed against her tight pussy lips, searching for the sweet spot where it could begin its journey inward. It was clear that Jin had no intention of foreplay, and Jisoo’s wet mound made it clear that none was needed. He again rubbed his cock head against her folds, Jisoo’s body providing the lubrication to be penetrated, despite any protests to the contrary. Her head spun, the reality of the situation and what she was doing starting to overcome her lust. “No. Jin, please. I barely know you.” He kissed her again. And again. And finally, she kissed back. She felt herself giving in, what choice did she really have?
The tip of his penis rubbed once more against her entrance, her slick vagina inviting him in, begging for it. Jisoo groaned, her body clearly welcoming this invasion and her mind fearful of how far this was going.
“Please don’t...you’re too big...it won’t fit...” she pleaded with him to stop, her head still holding out hope that her body would resist. Jin began putting pressure against her tight entrance, searching for her sweet spot. Closer...closer...and then he found it, and Jisoo gasped as he started to push his fat cock head into her.
Jisoo felt her breathing grow heavy as her married pussy prepared for its invasion. As he slowly pushed his cock into her, she was being more than filled up...she was being stretched, beyond comfort, to a painful level. “Oh my God, no, stop!” She frantically tried to push him back, but he was too strong, and clearly had reached a decision point. He was fucking this lovely bride, and, he was convinced, she was going to let him.
Jisoo wore a painful expression on her face and held her breath, tense, trying to push him back. She could barely get words out. “Oh...oh...ohhh...my God...” she gasped, as she made a final, half-hearted attempt to keep him at bay.
But Jin kept up the pressure on her, and even with only the very tip in, he had stretched her to the point of ruin. He pushed against her as he pulled her by the hips. “Ssshhh...” he whispered to her, “relax...you’re going to love it,”
He pushed the final bit needed to convince her. He was going to get in, and she knew it. Her hands went slack. Jisoo closed her eyes and turned her head, biting her lip hard.
She uttered one, final, quiet, “no.”, and then she surrendered, inviting him into her.
The whole of his head popped through her defenses, and she moaned in a way she never had before, the guilt that she felt being overcome by her lust to be filled. Only his head was in, but still, she felt her body beginning its surrender to the inevitable, reflexively her hips tilting upward to welcome in the cock that she craved. “Oh baby, you’re so tight...you feel amazing...” he whispered to her as he punctured her throbbing vaginal lips.
Jisoo was intoxicated by his clear desire for her, his demand for her, and could only sigh helplessly as he pressed further into her. “Spread your legs further, gorgeous...it’ll make it easier to take me.” She obliged, straining to take in his size into her small opening. Anything to make the stretching easier, somehow less painful.
Even through the stretched-out rubber, Jisoo could feel the heat of his foreskin folds against her inner walls as an inch, then another, pushed into her. Jisoo closed her eyes as she felt him completing his invasion of her body. She could barely even try to dissuade him. She had welcomed it. And now she was feeling another man inside of her for the first time. She realized that she no longer only belonged to her husband, and all she could do was let out a sad groan of acceptance. She needed this.
He was barely halfway in when their eyes locked upon each other. “Jin, we shouldn’t do this...I’m married. Please don’t go any deeper, please?” He smiled, and grabbed her hips, drawing himself still further into her. Jisoo closed her pretty eyes and let out a choked cry, a mixture of sexual release and pain. “Please...you’re too big for me.” She exhaled, trying to relax, to make it easier. “Oohh...it hurts, you’re going to ruin me...” her voice trailed off as he pushed further into her.
He paused. “I’m sorry, beautiful, but I need this, and you want it so badly. Does it feel good?” She nodded guiltily. It felt so good. He pushed in further. “Do you like it inside of you?” She moaned, and nodded. “Are you going to cum all over it?” Jisoo winced at the words, and then, with a look of shame on her face, slowly nodded. “Tell me.”
He started to pump his organ in and out of her, slowly, going just a bit deeper with each thrust. Her brown eyes remained closed, her beautiful, delicate features intensely reflected the orgasm building inside of her. “Tell me, baby. Tell me how much you like it. Tell me how it feels.”
“It feels so good...” Jisoo moaned in response. She wiggled her rear against the bed, trying to pull more of him into her tight body. Her pert breasts bounced as he pumped against her on the mattress.
“Are you going to cum all over my cock?” Jisoo winced at the dirty language, but nodded in response.
“I’m...I’m going to cum soon...I’m going to cum so hard...” she heard her voice. The first waves of an orgasm built up inside of her. Usually she had to concentrate to climax, everything had to be perfect. This was different, it felt as though her orgasm was being fucked out of her. Jin’s giant penis was pressing against every sensitive nub of her body, his hands tracing along the smooth skin of her married body, forcing physical responses that she never intended to have. “Don’t stop...” she whispered.
Jisoo felt the orgasm wash over her, and she gave in, finally, completely. She felt herself, heard herself, cry out in perfect agony, as she climaxed on the giant organ of a complete stranger. He didn’t even begin to let up, and as her orgasm triggered, and continued, she felt as though he was just starting. Her response triggered a change in his pace. He began to thrust in and out of her with alarming speed, and her body responded with utter physical joy. She came again, immediately, the second orgasm on top of the first, a sexual crescendo that didn’t let up.
Jin pushed deeper into her, harder, and Jisoo could only grab at him with her hands, trying to pull him down into her orgasm. He whispered into her, “You’re so beautiful...do you always cum like this?” She shook her head. “Do you ever cum like this?” he asked, his words punctuated by an extra hard thrust. She could only moan, and shook her head. “I’m not even all the way in, beautiful. We’ve just started.” He reached down and kissed her, forcefully, to punctuate his words.
He then slammed into her, as far as he could go into her petite frame. Jin hit her cervix, always a sensitive spot, where she always made her husband stop. She knew that Jin would not pause as she was used to, she knew he would not be gentle. “Oh God…” she cried out, “I can’t take you…you’re so big...” Jin smiled in response, then slid in again, and again - slowly, and forcefully.
He was hitting her cervix, repeatedly. Jisoo cried out for him to stop, each time. “You’re to- you’re too big...please stop…you’re too big”. The petite married woman was reduced to babbling incoherently as her lover fucked her senseless. Still in a haze post-climax, Jisoo had lost any control.
Still, the pain from his forceful thrusts was receding, as her body began to become accustomed to his unusual size. Jisoo saw him reach for her legs with his arms, and he placed them, gently, on his shoulders as he leaned down into her. Her feet dangled just over his broad collarbone, and she lay helplessly as he thrust in and out of her pliant womanhood, she moaned and cried out continuously as he pressed further and further into her.
Jisoo spasmed again, as he reached further into her than ever before. He hit a new spot, he was impaling her. She let out a choked gasp of surprise, and shuddered involuntarily. “Is that a new spot?” Jin grinned at her. “No one has ever hit that before, have they?” Jisoo stared at him in wide-eyed surprise. She shook her head. “That’s my spot, baby. That belongs to me.”
Jin began whispering to her as he plumbed her depths with his monster cock.
“Do you love it?” he grunted, pushing his entire length into her. Jisoo could only nod, speechless at the feelings that erupted in her. “Are you mine now?” Jisoo, wide-eyed, nodded again. Jin leaned in and whispered to her. “You’re so sexy...you make me want to take off this condom and give it to you properly. Do you want that?”
Jisoo lay still as a rag doll, getting fucked slowly like the toy that she now was. She stared at her new lover, and closed her eyes, shaking her head no. It didn’t matter that she did want that, and that her body was now accustomed to, and loving, this new, huge visitor. The pain went away, and waves of pleasure washed over her.
Jisoo felt him pause, asking her again if she wanted his skin on hers, direct...no protection. She nearly cried in agony. He started to fuck her again, but his words threatened to stop unless...unless...
Her eyes closed and rolled in the back of her head. She cried out as a deep, guttural orgasm washed over her. She heard herself begging to be fucked, and she didn’t care how. “You can do anything to me...please...fuck me. Just fuck me.”
He slowed his thrusts, but didn’t even begin to bring Jisoo back to reality. He paused, and shoved into her, roughly. She groaned. “Fuck me, Jin.” He thrust in hard again, hitting her cervix. She spasmed, hard. “Fuck me.” Again, he bottomed out inside of her, and she could only lay back, and plead for more. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me...” Jisoo heard her soft voice plead and whisper to her new lover, as he explored depths of her that had never been touched.
He continued his ministrations, and stared down at his married conquest. She stared back in rapture, high from her post-orgasmic bliss and continued fucking. “Do you love my cock? Tell me that you love my cock...”
She stared at him with her large brown eyes. “I love it. I love it so much. Please fuck me with your big cock. Please, I want to cum. I need to cum more...” Jisoo had lost any self-control, and words poured out of her mouth that she would never utter.
“You’re mine, do you understand?” He asked. Jisoo closed her eyes and nodded, biting her lip further. Her beautiful married body was betraying her, responding to his carnal invasion with its desire to fulfill its natural duty. “Who is inside of you?” he asked quietly.
Jisoo whispered back, “You are, Jin.”
“And does it feel better than anyone else?”
Jisoo could only nod.
“You belong to me, now. Your pussy belongs to me. Is that clear?” Jisoo could only sigh and nod, as his penis had completely taken over her body at this point, there was no point in denying the truth. “You’re going to let me do whatever I want with you, aren’t you?” Jisoo paused, the mystery behind those words sounding almost threatening, but she already knew the answer.
“You can do whatever you want to me. Use me.” the last words were pleaded, not spoken, and sounded less like an admission and more like a request. Jin’s condom-covered cock had made her see what sex was really supposed to feel like. His many inches filled Jisoo, and at that point she would have done anything for more. In the span of an evening Jisoo had become an absolute whore for a stranger’s cock.
Jin pulled out of her formerly-tight vagina, and Jisoo gasped, the feeling of his absence made it clear the damage that his organ had already wrought to her female parts. His strong arms scooping under her back, he pulled her off of the bed into a sitting position. Reaching down, he kissed one breast, then another, pausing to suckle at her left breast for just a moment. Jisoo could only close her eyes and revel in the sensation. “I love your tits..” he commented as he finished his oral worship of her nipples.
Unceremoniously, he then turned Jisoo onto her stomach, her aroused breasts rubbing against the fabric of the bed, her head pushed down on one cheek into the comforter. His left hand pushed down between her shoulder blades, and she felt her breasts being pushed hard into the mattress, her instinct was to arch her back, the result of which was that her still-dripping pussy was propped into the air. An offering to him, she thought to herself.
She felt his large hands grab her from behind, squeezing her soft, round ass. She felt his lips tenderly kiss one cheek, then the other as his hands drifted to her hips. “I love your ass...” she heard him say, “I love it so much I might have to fuck it someday...” the words thrilled her and yet alarmed her. There was no way that his massive erection could fit into her virgin rear, but just knowing that he wanted such a thing made her even more aroused. The word “someday” floated around, dangerously. Jisoo knew that this one-time fling could very easily turn into a regular thing, if he wanted. Jisoo already knew that she would do as he told her.
His hands pulled at her hips, and she felt him kneel down behind her. Turning her head, she could dimly see that he was prostrate to her, and she felt his lips make tender contact with her dripping wet pussy. His tongue followed, tracing a long, slow, luxurious path from her clit up to the very end of her. He repeated the move, and again, pausing after the third time to deliver a gentle kiss to her exposed pussy, followed by his tongue pushing into her, hard. He could hear him murmur his clear arousal, and he pulled away, muttering “you taste so good...I need to make you mine,” followed by further, eager licks to her pussy. Her clit was vibrating as he slowly sucked on it with his mouth, and Jisoo’s knees trembled as another orgasm began to build in her loins.
To her dismay, Jin stopped his oral worship of her, and Jisoo found herself subconsciously, slowly, shaking her rear as his tongue left her, straining lewdly for him to continue making love to her with his mouth. Her moan of frustration was met with a quick response, his hand placed firmly on her sex again, his fingers probing her, stroking her, rubbing up against her.
His other hand was placed firmly on her hip, grabbing the soft padding on her side and pulling himself into her. His hand left her sex, and was replaced by the smooth, warm skin of his cock head, again rubbing against her. But this time...it felt different.
Jisoo pulled her head off of the bed, and tried to turn around to confirm with her eyes what her body was feeling, but she could see nothing except him smiling, staring down at her backside, clearly focused on guiding his monster into her tight body. She felt him slide against her, seeking the right angle with which to penetrate her dripping cunt. “Jin...” she nervously spoke, “Are you wearing protection?”
Jin looked up at her, and as they locked eyes, she could see the answer in his eyes even before he shook his head. No condom would separate them further.
Jisoo struggled to prop herself up, but a firm hand on her back pushed her back down. “You don’t want me to use a condom, trust me. You want to feel this, don’t you?” She felt his other hand guide his cock against her exposed opening, again rubbing slowly, up and down, searching for the sweet spot.
Jisoo wobbled drunkenly on her knees, trying to stave off what seemed inevitable. “Jin...” Jisoo pleaded, “you have to wear a condom...please...” She felt his tip pause at her opening, but soon there was pressure there, from his body forcing it into her petite, married hole. “Please, please...I hardly know you...”
His hands ran from her hips up her side, past her ribs and gently cupping her breasts which hung beautifully below her, rolling her nipples between his fingers. She felt his lips in between her shoulder blades, gently kissing her soft skin. “I know, baby...that’s why we’re going to get to know each other much better now...” his words wafted to her ears, and his hands unclasped from her breasts, and traveled to her shoulders. She felt him stand up behind her.
The pressure from his penis was as firm as the previous entry, but this time, Jisoo’s body was prepared, even eager, for his entrance. He pushed into her firmly, and she felt his skin ripple against hers, every vein and bump of his huge cock sliding against her tight vaginal wall, stretching her out obscenely. She closed her eyes and gasped. Jin was fucking her bareback, and it felt amazing.
One inch, and another, and another went in. Having never had sex doggy style, Jisoo was unaccustomed to how she should position herself, but Jin had taken control. Her soft, round bottom waived in the air, offered to him, and he was taking her gift. Jin was taking her, completely. He was only halfway in, but Jisoo could already feel him deeper than ever before.
Jin pulled her firmly into his huge cock, and she felt his erection bump against her cervix, causing an involuntarily spasm. Her moan only encouraged him, and he went deeper still, the angle of his penis pressing against parts of her that she had never felt touched before. Jisoo turned her head, trying to catch his gaze. “Please...I’m not on birth control...please...” He smiled at her and leaned in, hunching his body over hers and sloppily kissing her, his tongue invading her mouth as his penis had invaded her body.
One of his hands traveled down her body, brushing her aroused nipples, sliding down her flat stomach, and ending at her engorged vaginal lips. His index finger traced slowly, languidly, towards her clit, pushing into her moist folds and finding her small button, stroking it gently. Jisoo closed her eyes and whimpered softly. “Please...don’t...Jin...please...”
“Shhh...relax and enjoy this. I want you to enjoy this. I want you to cum for me.”
Jisoo became overwhelmed, from the continuous stroking on her erogenous zone and the massive penis that throbbed inside of her. She felt her pussy clamp lovingly around her new lovers phallus as the first waves of an unwanted orgasm crashed over her. Each moment of pleasure weakened her resolve further, and she found her head buried in the mattress, groaning softly as he pushed deeper and deeper into her.
“Pull out before you cum...please?” she heard herself weakly ask, and she felt him pause mid-thrust, only his massive crown was still inside of her now sore and stretched cunt. Her hands were stretched out in front of her, she realized, her hands with a death grip on the bed sheets that she was being fucked senseless on. Jisoo knew how half-hearted her request sounded. She also knew that she was absolutely going to take his cum if he demanded it.
He thrust his penis back into her, slowly, rotating his hips to explore every nook of her tight womanhood as he did. “Whatever you want, gorgeous. It’s your night...” His words brought her some comfort, and relaxing her grip on the sheets, she turned to him and gave him a worried look. Still, she consented to his further penetration, and he resumed slowly defiling her married body.
In and out, in and out, each stroke brought him deeper, and Jisoo learned what it was like to be truly fucked with every pump of his hips. His hands, which had been pulling her slowly into him, relaxed, and began to caress her areolas, as she began to drive her own body into his, gaining comfort with his massive prick and wanting, needing more of it inside of her.
He pulled her up into his embrace, and she felt his lips kissing her shoulders, her neck. She could feel his hot breath on her as he inhaled the scent of her dirty blond hair. She heard his low voice “Mmmmhhh” in approval, and his hands guided her hips down onto his from the top of her hipbone.
Jin’s hands then ran up her body to her firm tits, and he cupped them possessively as her petite curves bounced up and down on his cock. Fucking him was getting easier, as her body adjusted to the size of her new lover and as a result of the copious lubrication that her own body was providing. His hands roughly pinched the tips of her nipples, perched perfectly on top of her silver-dollar sized, light brown areolas. She whined in satisfaction, her petite body responding to his forceful touch.
“You’re so beautiful...” he whispered in her ear, “Let me cum in you.” Jisoo shook her head, but continued to let her pussy be massaged by his massive prick.
“Baby...I’m going to cum.” Jisoo sank once more onto him, deeply, and then, fighting the cravings of her body, climbed off of him. Not wanting it to end, she got onto her hands and knees, in between his legs. She took his slick, glistening erection in her hand, and quickly and hungrily put him into her mouth. She tasted their mixed lovemaking on him, and, feeling a small trickle of pre cum, moaned in hunger and anticipation for his semen. She paused, taking him out of her mouth. She stared up at him. “I will swallow you...” she whispered. It was a gift for him, it was something that she had never done before, but now Jisoo needed it, badly.
Jin sat up, and stroked her cheek. She put his wet erection back in her mouth, running her tongue along his shaft as she did. Bobbing up and down, Jisoo cupped his scrotum lightly, waiting for his inevitable groan, mentally ready for his warm cum to flow into her mouth.
He groaned, once, and then pushed on her shoulders. Confused, Jisoo leaned back, and felt him push further onto her shoulders until she fell onto her back. “Jin...what...” His strong arms grabbed one leg each at her knees, and separated her smooth, long legs.
He was propped over her, on his knees, and she watched him release her left leg and grab his prick, aiming it towards her neatly trimmed mound. In one smooth motion, he was back inside of her, and Jisoo felt the hard pressure of his erection as he pushed into her quickly, urgently. He began to stroke in and out of her, a frantic pace that hadn’t existed before.
The urgency of his actions and speed surprised her, though his motions inside of her gave her what she craved. Jisoo stared up at him, confused and lustful at the same time. “Jin, what are you...” He cut her off with a quick, intense kiss.
“Baby...you’re mine now.” His strokes slowed, and he went deeper. One push in, and then another. His grip on her legs tightened. Jisoo felt her perfect tits jiggle from the force of his thrust. “I need to cum inside of you.” he grunted, and then closed his eyes.
“Jin, no, don’t do it...please...” Jisoo tried to struggle off of the bed, but she was pinned down by the size of his body. “I’m not on birth control! Stop!” Her words were cut off by another kiss, which she instinctively responded to.
The kiss ended. He moved to her neck, leaving marks with hard, possessive bites. Jisoo closed her eyes...this can’t be happening, she thought to herself. His husky voice whispered into her ear.
“You’re such a sexy lady...you wanted this from the first moment we started...now you’re going to get it.”
She gasped. “I can’t. I’ve never done this before with another man...please...pull out. I’ll even swallow your cum, I’ve never done that before, ever...please, PLEASE!” She became frantic.
Jin just smiled at her, and rocked his hips, his cock already planted deep inside of her, reminding her of what her body wanted. Jisoo moaned at the guilty pleasure washing over her. “Please...” she whispered, “I’m not a slut...”
“Yes, you are,” he murmured, “You are tonight. And you love this.” His hand slid up her leg, and his thumb found her engorged clit, and began to stroke it slowly. “You’re going to cum all over this cock, and I’m going to cum in you, and you’re going to love it, you married slut.”
“I’m not a slut,” she whispered uncertainly, as his giant cock slid in and out of her closely-trimmed, swollen pussy. She felt her lips eagerly wrap around his shaft, milking it. Her body was betraying her words as it did its natural duty. Jisoo was starting to realize that her body wanted her lovers cum inside of her, and it was now taking steps to ensure that she would get it. She felt another orgasm building, and her vagina began to contract, squeezing his cock, urging him on. Maybe I am a slut... she thought to herself, as a dull roar formed in her head. Her orgasm was near.
“You’re a slut. You want to swallow my cum, don’t you? You’re my pretty little married slut. Tell me that you’re my slut, and I’ll let you swallow it all.” He pulled her hips towards his, he was completely inside her. Jisoo cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain. He was impaling her, he was ruining her, she knew.
The combination of being called a slut repeatedly, of knowing that it was true, and the insistence of his invading penis broke her, finally. Tears welled up in her eyes as his monstrous cock forced another small orgasm from her. She cried out. “I’m...I’m a slut. I’m your slut. Let me swallow your cum. I’ll swallow your cum. I want your cum.”
“Tell me again...” he growled. “Tell me what you want...”
Jisoo stared up at him, her eyes pleading with his. “I want your cum. Please. Just give me your cum. Give your little slut your cum.” She closed her eyes as another orgasm washed over her, tears ran down her face as she admitted the truth. “I’m just a slut.”
“Wrap your legs around me, baby...”
Still in an orgasmic haze, Jisoo obeyed, just needing his cock deep inside of her. Her petite, smooth legs locked around him, and the widening of her hips allowed him unfettered access to her. The pretty housewife had completely surrendered to him. She licked her lips, knowing that he would soon be pulling out and feeding her his semen.
Instead, Jin’s hands returned to her hips, sliding under her bottom and using his weight to push his full size into her. “You’re going to take it all, slut.” he groaned deeply, an animalistic sound coming from him. “You’re mine.”
Jisoo realized what was happening, as if in slow motion. But Jin was holding her legs, and his massive prick was completely buried in her, their groins pressed together. Jisoo gasped, and grabbed for his arms to pull them off of her legs. His arms held fast. A small sob escaped from her pretty mouth, and staring up at his face, watched as the pleasure that her body gave to this strange lover manifested itself on his face.
“Please don’t cum in me...” she whispered plainly, not a plea, just a quiet request from a broken woman. Her head slumped down onto the mattress, defeated. A tear rolled down her cheek as she realized that she was just going to have to take his seed. After putting herself in this wanton position, it was what she deserved.
His thrusts slowed, deeper, as he bottomed out into her. She felt her body adjusting, to fit this new angle, and she knew from her prior experiences that this natural response meant only one thing: her body was preparing to mate, to accept her partner’s seed. Jisoo exhaled, trying to relax, and felt her legs wrap tighter around his back, sealing her fate. She knew it was only moments. She knew that her body wanted his cum.
Jisoo accepted her fate.
Jin moaned out, and Jisoo felt his cock begin to throb as his semen pulsed through it. The petite woman could only let out a small whimper as she felt the first flood of semen pulse into her waiting womb. “Ohhh...” she whispered in shock, her pussy eagerly milking his mammoth organ for its illicit seed. She no longer tried to push him off, instead wrapping her arms around him, instinctively, pulling the father of her next child closer.
“Ohhh...you came...I love it...” her small voice only encouraged him to push deeper, deeper into her. Jisoo cried out in relief and realization as she felt each pump of his cum spraying against her waiting womb. He collapsed against her, spent from his gift, as she could only whisper out, “Jin...I’m not on birth control...” She let out a small sigh, as the finality of her betrayal dawned upon her, as she realized what she had done.
Jisoo’s mind reeled as their mating concluded, she could feel his penis, now coated with his cum, slickly pump in and out of her unprotected pussy. She came again, despite herself, as the overwhelming eroticism of their act hit her in totality.
“Yes, yes, take it, you pretty little married slut. You love it, don’t you?” Jin smiled, his eyes still closed. “You’re mine, baby. Forever.” He leaned down and kissed her. “You’re still holding me in...you love it.” He was right...throughout all of this, Jisoo’s small legs wrapped tight around him, holding him close to her. “I couldn’t have pulled out if I wanted to...Ughh...” he grunted as Jisoo felt the last of his cum drain from his still erect penis. “I knew I was going to put my cum in you the minute I got you back here. Your married pussy was begging for it. You’re so tight.” He kissed her again, his tongue invading her mouth. “We’re going to have to meet up again soon. I want to fuck you again, and you’re going to let me. Your husband isn’t going to like what I have in store for you...”
He pulled his giant cock unceremoniously out of her, and a gush of his cum poured out of her defeated, used cunt. She lay still, silently staring at this stranger whom she had just allowed to defile her, and he climbed onto her chest wordlessly. Wracked with sobs, tears slid down her face, she saw him straddle her chest, his distended penis, coated with both of their fluids, lay heavy down near her mouth.
“Clean me off...” he stated gently, “And then I’ll get you your clothes back so that you can walk out of here with some dignity.” Jisoo looked up at him, hopeful, that he wouldn’t make her do such a disgusting thing. He shook his head at her hopeful glance, and put his hand behind her head, guiding it up to his slick cock. Feeding it into her pretty mouth, Jisoo learned what it was to be truly loved. Her married sex had always been gentle, loving. This had been steamy, forceful. Now she learned the full extent of this passion. He pumped his cum covered cock into her mouth, and managed to ejaculate a bit more semen into her as a final gift. She shuddered at the sour, salty taste of it. “Swallow it all...every drop, show me that you love it.”
Jisoo closed her eyes and nodded silently. He was right...she had tried to fight it with words, but her actions spoke differently. Her body had wanted it, sought it out. She had given up every bit of purity to him, and had loved it. Cleaning him off made it no worse, it was only a fitting finale for their tryst. She finished cleaning off his still-erect cock with her mouth and tongue, and, as a goodbye present, gave it a long, wet, slow kiss, running her tongue along the head. The taste was utterly perfect. She wanted him again, already. Jin shivered, and, satisfied, finally, he climbed off of her.
The next minutes were a blur. She put on her clothes, and was hustled through a back door, where a black car waited for her...the car that had been called for her, she supposed, long ago. As she slumped, disheveled, into the back seat, the black, middle aged driver gave her a knowing look, and nodded - clearly she was not the first housewife who had explored her erotic side after too many martinis. Jisoo gave him her home address to the driver, and stared out of the window, as the car took off into the night. She felt Jin’s cum drying slowly inside of her and on her leg and panties, as the smell of their lovemaking surrounded her. Her mind reeled as the city disappeared into the night.
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oatmilk-vampire · 5 months
Text
Steve Harrington needed hearing aids.
He wasn't born needing them. In fact, he was just about as healthy as a young man in his social class could be. But numerous head injuries eventually led to gradually worsening hearing loss, leading him to needing mostly useless hearing aids.
His damage was so severe he actually needed cochlear implants but his parents kicked him out of their house and off of their insurance plan when he got caught kissing his teammate back in high school. With his minimum wage job and splitting rent with his roommate Robin, he currently did not make enough money for such a luxury.
So he did the next best thing: he learned ASL.
It was free, other than his time invested, and Robin was the one to suggest it. After all, she was already fluent in five languages and had been in band for twelve years. If anyone could teach herself and a hard of hearing person to sign, it was Robin Buckley.
The only bad part was, they were the only two who seemed to know the damn language, leaving Steve to strain to hear or read lips lest he get (mostly) silently yelled at by some deranged customer.
So when he spotted a guy around his age with long, dark curly hair and perfectly round black glasses with side shields, he knew he had to act.
He knew what it was like to have people gloss over the fact that you exist, or even berate you for it; so he took a page out of Robin's book.
He learned braille.
Sure, technically Steve could still speak to the boy, but wouldn't it be more special if he could read what Steve wanted to say?
So he practiced and practiced until he was happy, bringing the card to work where his crush appeared to be a regular.
As Steve sees him walk in, he knows today's the day.
⠓⠊ ⠊ ⠁⠍ ⠎⠞⠑⠧⠑ ⠎⠕⠗⠗⠽ ⠊⠋ ⠞⠓⠊⠎ ⠊⠎ ⠺⠑⠊⠗⠙ ⠃⠥⠞ ⠊ ⠚⠥⠎⠞ ⠺⠁⠝⠞⠑⠙ ⠞⠕ ⠎⠁⠽ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠁⠗⠑ ⠗⠑⠁⠇⠇⠽ ⠉⠥⠞⠑ ⠁⠝⠙ ⠊ ⠺⠕⠥⠇⠙ ⠇⠊⠅⠑ ⠞⠕ ⠁⠎⠅ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠕⠥⠞ ⠕⠝ ⠁ ⠙⠁⠞⠑
Hi I am Steve sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you are really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date
Steve is giddy when he wanders over to the boy in dark clothes. He had on black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a Metallica band tee, a leather jacket, and a denim battle vest. He's perfect. He's hot.
Steve's footsteps must be louder than he expects because the object of his affection immediately turns in his direction.
"Hi," Steve greets as he presses the thick stock paper into his hands.
The boy angles his head down with a frown as he traces an index finger over the raised dots, before looking right at Steve behind those dark frames.
He takes them off, and Steve learns after so long that his eyes are brown.
"I'm sorry," his crush says, Steve recognizing those syllables easy enough, "But I can't read this. What is it you're trying to say?"
But now that response is too much, Steve can't keep up. All he knows is the card he worked so carefully punching little holes in with a special tool he had to buy was now being pushed back into his hands.
Steve doesn't try to answer, he just wants to get the hell away before his tears spill over, but a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks.
He tenses, squeezes his eyes shut and braces for impact, but when a familiar hit doesn't land on his face, he cautiously opens his teary eyes to find him staring right at Steve.
"Are you okay?" He asks, but Steve can't be quite sure if he's checking on him or asking if he's gay.
Steve's own frown appears on his face as he points to his ears.
"Can't hear too good."
His mouth drops open, rushing to spiel something Steve doesn't catch. He must realize this because he's taking Steve's card back from him now as he mimics writing something with raised eyebrows.
Steve nods his head, more confused that the guy he thought was blind seemed to be understanding him perfectly.
He fishes out the little pad of paper and pen he keeps with him for moments not quite like this, passing the two items over.
He scribbles for a moment before letting Steve read what he's written in big loopy letters.
Hi, I'm Eddie. Sorry, I can't read braille. What did you say?
Steve furrows his brows.
I thought you might know it. Aren't you blind?
Eddie shakes his head with a little smile.
The glasses? I have killer migraines. Never go anywhere without them.
Steve smacks himself in the face. He's been such a fool!
Eddie taps him to gain his attention once more before handing him the notepad and pen.
What did you say? I'd like to know :)
Steve worries his bottom lip.
Hi I'm Steve. Sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you're really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date
He's nervous as he hands it back, but Eddie's wide grin and eager nod does wonders to knock back those worries.
I thought you'd never ask, Steve.
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celestemona · 6 months
Text
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒
and they take their children to the work
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pairing: dad & husband! cyno, kaveh, lyney, wriothesley x fem! reader
cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, parenthood, domesticity and fluff. not beta-read.
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
x
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Cyno
If the Matras had ever dared to think that they'd see a softer, more relaxed side from their general since he had become a father, they could not have been more mistaken as Cyno remained as ruthless and as sternly faithful to his beliefs as he had always been.
In fact, the birth of the twins only served to intensify his sense of morality and justice; his desire for preservation and security not only applied to the Akademiya' laws, but now extending to the well-being of Aryan and Isaar as well.
Even so, it was still common for many to still try to test their luck in deceive the General Mahamatra and risk cheating the system believing that they'd get away with it in the end. After all, what are the chances of their actions being noticed by Cyno when he already had so many duties to worry about?
Even if he was working, surely the well-being of his sons came as the first priority, right?
That was what they thought.
With the little ones babbling and fidgeting uncontrollably on his torso, it wasn't difficult to assume that Cyno would focus all his attention on his children rather than his surroundings, giving the advantage of a perfect loophole for some scholars of Rtawahist Darshan to escape into the desert to do use of forbidden knowledge — too unaware of the reddish irises that were also watching them attentively.
“They never learn,” he sighed in irritation as he adjusted Isaar into the sling to his chest and Aryan to his back, “Looks like we have a long day ahead of us, little ones. Dad will show you what happens to those who dare defy the rules.”
A cute laugh escaped his babies' mouths bringing a soft smile to Cyno's face at their reaction. Well, it seemed like he couldn't let his kids down now, could he?
On that day, Cyno had returned home early with a feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment; his twins babies, although remarkably happy, were already sleeping snuggled by their father's warmth, very exhausted from the day's activities.
On the other hand, the scholars who had dare challenged his abilities learned that Cyno's judgment should never be tested ever again. His frightening reputation was not something to take so lightly. However, there was something even terrifying about being stopped by the General Mahamatra while he takes care of his children.
They took notes to never doubt a dad' sense of responsability ever again.
Kaveh
There was something so absurdly attractive about Kaveh carrying your daughter in his arms as he discussed a construction project that you could do nothing but revel in the sight of.
The seriousness in his eyes, his slightly disheveled hair and the professionalism in the tone of his speech were three of the main characteristics that made you fall in love with the architect. But the addition of your baby girl sleeping snuggled against his chest definitely served to leave you — and all the other women present there — enchanted by him.
Perhaps this was the reason why his clientele had increased so much in recent months and the number of scams had dropped significantly, consequently also increasing his workload. Not only had fatherhood served to boost your husband's reputation and diligence, but your daughter had unwittingly become the architect's lucky charm as well.
While it wasn't unusual for both you and Kaveh to bring the baby with you to your respective jobs, the frequency with which Zahra accompanied him to the sumerian streets intrigued you. Not that you doubted your husband's ability to provide the necessary security and well-being for the little one, no. When it came to his daughter, you knew that Kaveh wouldn't think twice about risking his own life if it guaranteed her smile. It was more your uneasiness as a mother and wife speaking louder that even your husband's reassuring smiles couldn’t appease.
But in the end, you could only laugh to yourself at how worried you were for nothing because both Zahra and Kaveh were doing very well.
Kaveh's serene expression told you how calm he was and you assumed that negotiations with the client were also going well. Although Zahra was still sleeping, your little princess caught the attention of the citizens around them who cooed at the sight of father and daughter, causing some to approach them and taking an interest in Kaveh's work in the process. 
Or in the case of some ladies, taking an interest in the handsome dad who was giving them some decorations advice and a bright smile for free.
Who would've thought that to become such a respected professional you only needed to bring your cute daughter to work, huh?
You just hoped that these potential clients would see Kaveh's beauty and dedication beyond appearances, otherwise you’d have bad news to tell your husband. And a lot of spinsters to put in their place too.
Lyney
“Ok, kids. Remember to listen to papa and auntie Lynette, and no runs. Especially you Quenn. Stay by your sister’s side, please,” you tell your twins who are getting ready to leave with their dad.
Quentin only giggled and Corinne nodded in agreement like the good girl she was. You could already imagine the antics that were going on in your son's head now that he was somewhat aware that he’d be going out alone with his father, although you also knew that Quentin was a well-mannered boy and would do everything he could not to cause problems for his parents or upset his twin sister.
It wasn't your children's first time accompanying their dad to a rehearsal at the Opera Epiclese, but it was definitely the first time that you wouldn't be around to watch them since you had personal matters to attend to. Even if you didn't worry about your husband's ability to care for and keep the children safe, you still liked to remind them how they should behave to avoid possible accidents as the twins had also reached the dreaded curiosity phase. 
Furthermore, this reminder not only applied to the little ones but also to the magician, who had a heart as genuine as those of his children and could often be more playful than them.
“Don’t worry, my love. I'm sure the little ones will behave very well”, Lyney assures you, placing a kiss on your cheek and bringing the twins into his arms, “Ready to see daddy's new magic tricks?”
Luckily for Lyney, it wasn't a busy day at the theater; his team was already carrying out their duties even before his arrival and Lynette had already tested all their new magic items for the performance that’d take place in a few days.
Corinne and Quentin, despite being too young to understand what was happening around them, couldn't help but love watching all the preparation for what they knew would be a huge spectacle. Their little amethyst eyes sparkled like two pairs of jewels as they saw the stage being set up and, of course, their father starting some illusionist tricks.
Seeing the sweet curiosity on his children's faces, a warmth spread in Lyney's chest as he felt truly happy to be able to share his passion with his family.
And taking advantage of the twins' focus on him, the man created a small and brief exclusive show where he took a deck of cards from his pocket and manipulated each one of them so that they appeared and disappeared from one hand to the other. When the entire deck was gone, Lyney giggled at Corinne and Quentin's shocked looks. But when it reappeared once again from under his sleeves and the cards were thrown up, transforming into dozens of crystalflies soon after, the children's joyful and melodious laughter echoed throughout the Opera Epiclese bringing a smile not only to their dad but everyone there.
At the end of the day, when the whole family was back home, Lyney proudly shared with you how a good boy and a good girl your kids were; listening carefully to their father and aunt, and respecting the other employees.
But, well... it wasn't like you needed to know that the reason behind their behavior was because Lyney had barely worked; instead, he preferred to spend all his time in the company of his two favorite people in the whole world.
Wriothesley
The Fortress of Meropide’ veteran residents already knew Cameron as you and Wriothesley had no problem taking the little boy on your respective patrols.
In fact, many of them looked forward to meeting the Duke's son and being able to interact with the docile and laughing baby. Cameron's melodious giggles could melt even the hardest of hearts, and you and your husband appreciated the affection the prisoners showed your son.
However, when it came to the new inmates, you and Wriothesley had a mutual agreement to prioritize Cameron's safety before introducing him to the unfamiliar faces. After all, you can't be too careful, and the information documents about the detainees that came from the Palais Mermonia did little to say what kind of people you’d be dealing with.
Fortunately, to this day you or Wriothesley have never had to use your strength to educate newcomers and you hoped it’d stay that way.
That day, however, Wriothesley had no option but to take his son to welcome the new “residents” who were arriving. Normally you’d have stayed behind to look after your son, but you were also suddenly summoned to a meeting at the Court of Fontaine and left in a hurry after saying goodbye to your family.
“It seems it’s you and me again today, buddy,” Wriothesley said to his baby as he finished changing his dirty diaper and dressing him in appropriate clothes. When finally secured in the sling, Cameron cooed in delight.
Wriothesley smiled fondly.
“Yes. That's right, Cam. We’re late. Time to welcome the new residents.”
Now, although it was common knowledge that the current director of the Fortress of Meropide was nothing if not a fair and respectable man, there were still rumors about his strength and ferocity in combat that frightened even the most brutish of men. The fontainian citizens still harbored a certain fear of him and the prison's residents, so his reputation on the surface was not a pleasant thing to hear, even though Wriothesley didn't seem to care what these people thought of him either.
Thus, the prisoners who'd arrive that morning were already preparing for the worst when they went to meet the Duke; from physical punishments to psychological torture.
What they didn't expect, however, was to be cordially received by the director himself, who was carrying a baby that looked a lot like him trapped on his chest. While it was no secret that Wriothesley had a wife and son, the sight in person was shocking.
In the end, the reception had ended well for both sides. The new prisoners were given all the essential information about the prison system and its administration, and Wriothesley was able to get to know them better. It seemed that people became unconsciously more honest in the presence of babies.
Hours later when you returned home, your husband was enjoying a cup of tea while Cameron happily drank his formula while enjoying the warmth emanating from his father's arms.
You could say they had a good day.
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fastandcarlos · 3 months
Text
My Worst Nightmare : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
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Your eyes went wide as you watched it all unfold.
Your heart beat faster than it ever had done before.
The feeling of your hand gripping his arm made Max jump beside you as you watched Lando’s front wheel clip against the front wheel of Charles. As soon as the incident happened you saw an aggression in Lando that you had never seen before, biting your bottom lip as he edges closer and closer to Charles’ car, almost inviting himself to get into some sort of incident against the other driver.
“What’s he playing at?” Max hissed next to you, eyes rolling at what he was seeing from his best friend.
“It’s like he wants to go crashing into the barriers,” you murmured, shaking your head in disbelief.
You could picture Lando getting frustrated in his car, eyes rolling, mouth tutting.
But he was the reason that he almost crashed out of the race. The only person responsible for any potential accident was Lando. The man who promised you every single race that he’d drive safe and that things would be okay.
Max’s eyes stay on you for a few moments as you carry on watching the race. He knows you worry and fret, but he could see frustration in you too. Frustration that your boyfriend was willing to crash so dangerously just because his front wheel got clipped, something you’d seen happen so easily in races plenty of times.
You hoped that would be enough to make him stop.
Lando kept on pushing though, every opportunity he tested the water, keen to try and scrape through whenever even a millimetre presented itself. You struggled to watch after a while, terrified that you’d ultimately end up watching your boyfriend get seriously hurt.
You’d never felt so relieved when the race was finished, watching Lando drive back into the garage in fifth. When he climbed out the car he expected to see you ready to enter his open arms, but instead you remained rather standoffish with him, shooting him a glare.
“Well done,” you told him, your face flat, taking him by surprise.
“Try and be happy for me, yeah?”
“Sorry,” you coldly sighed, “can’t help it.”
Lando walks across and presses a kiss against your cheek before being pulled back to get weighed. He wanted to play dumb, but Lando knew just from the tone of your voice why you were upset with him, and truthfully, he understood why.
He kept looking at you as he finished off race proceedings, hoping for something from you. A couple of times you offered him a weak smile, but other than that you remained with Max, struggling to listen to Lando try and make excuses in the media pen for his erratic driving. Eventually Lando headed off to grab his things, leaving you and Max alone.
Max poked your side to get your attention, “try not to be too hard on him tonight.”
“But he was being stupid Max.”
“I know, but I can tell he regrets it.”
A sign came from you, “what was he thinking?”
“Probably just adrenaline,” Max tried to defend, “maybe he saw something there that we missed.”
The ride home was pretty silent between the two of you, Lando tried to make small talk but you were still unimpressed. You headed back to your hotel room, Lando following just behind to give you enough space. As soon as the door shut and you were all alone, he finally cleared his throat.
He waited for you to sit down, throwing himself down beside you before you could protest.
“You might as well say what you want to say.”
“You’re an idiot.”
Lando chuckled, “I already knew that.”
You shot a glare across at him.
Lando’s attempts to lighten the mood fell flat as you silently scolded him. The tight corners and near misses were part of the job, but what happened today took all of that to the extreme.
“I wasn’t going to crash,” Lando told you, reading your mind and figuring what you were thinking.
“How do you know that?”
“We’re professionals,” he reminded you.
Your eyes rolled as he tried to brush off what you were saying, trying his best to reassure you in his own Lando way.
After a few moments Lando shuffled across the sofa, resting his hand against your thigh. “Maybe things were a little too close for comfort today.”
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all day,” you hummed, “being a pro doesn’t mean being stupid.”
“I’m sorry if I made you worry about me.”
“I thought you were going to crash,” you sighed.
“I didn’t though.”
“My point is though, you could have,” you reminded him, keeping your voice firm. “That would be my worst nightmare Lando.”
Your admission took him by surprise, his eyes soften as he looks at you. The hand that was on your thigh moved to intertwine in with your own, Lando moved even closer towards you, nudging against your side. He could hear the hurt in your voice, terrified that your worst nightmare would end up coming true.
Lando squeezes gently against your hand, whispering your name. “Perhaps I let my frustrations get the better of me today, I should’ve been more careful and not risked anything dangerous happening.”
“I don’t ever want a repeat of Vegas Lan.”
“Me too, I don’t ever set out to do anything like that,” he assured you.
You nodded in reply to him. “I don’t know what I’d do if something ever did happen.”
“Hey, let’s not think about that.”
You went to speak but your voice faltered as Lando pulled you into his side. Luckily for you, Lando knew exactly what you were trying to say to him.
“I promise that I won’t do it again,” he whispered.
A smile of relief appears on Lando’s face as the corners of your mouth slowly turn up into a smile of your own. “I hate you for scaring me like that today,” you jokingly told him.
Lando’s head shook as you hit against his chest, trying your best to sound serious through the few giggles that escaped.
“You love me really,” Lando whispered, pressing a kiss against the side of your head.
You hummed back at him, “I do, that’s why I’d hate to ever see you get hurt.”
Lando cups against the side of your face, bringing you towards him for a gentle kiss as if to remind you one more time, he really was alright.
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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fumiliar · 9 days
Note
CAN WE PLS GET OLDER BF TOJI HEADCANNONS PLS PRETTY PLS 🙏
(LOVE YOUR WORK BTW!!!)
TYSMM! i hope you like it!😵‍💫
✎...toji is in his late 30s (he lives!) and reader is in her early 20s. megumi is a toddler and he keeps him.
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you were the one who chased older bf!toji, you manifested this man. ever since you met him in your apartment gym, you've been trying to get close with him. you started to gym when he went to the gym, asking him for help to carry the weight because you were inexperienced. slowly but surely, you started to develop a relationship with toji, talking to him when it was unrelated to exercise.
older bf!toji who was scared to ask you out on a date. you were so young! he on the other hand, was a widow, a single father and 15+ years older than you. he could've been your father! all these thoughts subsided when he saw you waiting in front of the gym for him. "hi toj-" "date?" he blurted out, leaving you blushing and shocked. "sure toji." that night, he couldn't stop gushing over you to his toddler megumi.
older bf!toji who told you upfront that he was a single father, a widow and looking for a serious relationships on your first date. not wanting to cause any other misunderstandings, he's old, he doesn't have time to play games. he doesn't have the time to fool around, he wants a serious relationship, someone he can lean on, importantly someone who megumi can lean on.
older bf!toji who did not understand why such a youthful person would want him. the stress of his job and raising a child alone has manifested on his appearance. while you, were the epitome of youth in his eyes. the days where you could've been partying in clubs, you spent playing with megumi. he could not wrap his head around your actions.
older bf!toji who barely uses social media. not due to his age, but he's too busy with his life. his only socials are his facebook(good 4 u). you had to teach him how to make an instagram account, and to this day he still doesn't understand how it works. his insta only follows you, with one post, which is also a picture of you.
older bf!toji who's always 'reluctantly' accompanying you, reluctantly watching chick flicks with you, reluctantly accompanying you shopping and holding your shopping bags, reluctantly holding your purse. he's always reluctantly doing stuff, but he ends up doing it anyways. why? cause he loves you. there's a certain joy inside him he hasn't felt since his wife's passing. he secretly enjoys doing girly things with you, just to see the happiness on your face.
older bf!toji who never wants you to feel like megumi is your responsibility. though he wants you to be there for megumi, he doesn't want to burden you with his own struggles.
older bf!toji who stumbles over his feet when he first saw you with megumi. for the first time in his life, he saw megumi like someone from the first meeting. megumi was constantly giggling, smiling ear to ear. without toji realising, his expressions had mirrored his son, like father like son.
older bf!toji who's scared of his future. he's always on the brink of death, with the risky nature of his job. he wants to grow old together, but hesitation takes over him when he realised that in the end, it would just be him growing old.
older bf!toji who has the worst taste in clothing. literally horrendous, when you see his wardrobe, it's just multiples of his tight black shirt, his weird poofy pants and some workout clothes. his other clothing was horrible, some shirts having holes as big as your fist. ever since you've seen that, you've decided to go on a shopping spree for him, along with getting him and megumi some matching clothes.
older bf!toji who hasn't had the time to take care of himself properly. taking care of megumi was such a hassle making him forgot about himself. when you pamper him with skincare nights and face masks, he literally gets addicted. every time you offer to do a face mask or to do his skincare, he dashes to lay his head on your lap. he's still too shy to ask for it, but you can tell how much he likes it. his wrinkles slowly going away with every touch of your hand, as if he's finally let his guard down.
584 notes · View notes
angelwonie · 1 year
Text
X + Y = YOU AND I || jeon wonwoo
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PAIRING: academic rival!wonwoo x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 8.6k
GENRE(S): smut, fluff, rivals to lovers, college au
SUMMARY: you wish jeon wonwoo would sometimes act like an insufferable prick instead of the perfect guy, because then you wouldn't have to feel your head spinning each time he looks at you.
WARNINGS: SMUT [unprotected sex, fingering, use of petnames (baby, good girl), praise, some degradation, sex in an empty classroom] wonwoo is so in love
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Class discussions where both Wonwoo and you are involved never end well. 
Partly, it’s because none of you possess the ability of backing down from a fight, but mostly it’s because of Wonwoo’s annoying tendencies of having read all the books in the world, which allows him to criticize every word that comes out of your mouth. 
Which again leaves you with no choice but to get angry and argue even more vividly — though Soonyoung claims that’s just your own stubbornness making matters worse. 
He doesn’t get it, though. The desire to beat Wonwoo at his own game each time he opens his mouth. It’s something you can’t entirely explain, but it keeps you grounded, and so you don’t question it too much. The adrenaline that comes along with it is enough for you. 
And that’s exactly what keeps you going today — Wonwoo’s annoying takes on social anthropology.
“I just don’t think cultural differences are the root of conflicts.”
He says this and shrugs, eyes subconsciously drifting to the side to look at you. As expected, you’re already raising your hand to comment on his statement and he has to fight the urge to smile. Despite coming in tired, eyes drooping, you’re eager to partake in a discussion with him. Always. It’s a little too reassuring to think about, so he stops, and instead focuses on what you’re saying. 
“That’s a baseless claim to make,” you scoff, and again, he feels his lip twitch, almost forming a smile. “Of course they are. No differences means nothing to fight about.”
“Yes, in theory,” he says, and his eyes crinkle with the smile he offers you. A smile you can’t seem to tell if is cocky or genuine. “But cultural differences aren't everything. If we don’t have culture, people will still form opinions. And those opinions will still become the roots of conflicts.”
With those words, he crosses his arms over his chest, his elbow bumping into you. 
You’re not sure who came up with the idea of the two of you sitting together in the classroom, but moments like these make you want to find that person and rip their hair out. Because in what universe should you have to argue with Jeon Wonwoo while his shoulder is literally touching yours? 
It’s stupid, unethical, and every other derogatory term you can come up with, but most of all, it’s making it hard to focus. Obviously, it’s not about him, it’s about the closeness itself. You think. Probably. 
You lean a bit to your left so you can actually think of a response, but end up sighing and asking a question instead. 
“So you’re saying conflicts are inevitable?”
He tongues his cheek – a sign that he’s in deep thought – and bumps his elbow into you again. An accident, probably, but it catches your attention nevertheless. 
“I’m saying disagreements become conflicts because we can’t handle our emotions. It’s not differences that are the problem, it’s our way of handling them.”
And there it is — that twinkle in his eyes that signalizes he knows he’s won. You know it, too, from the way he leans back into his chair and your words die down in your throat and the professor nods his head approvingly. Still, you wish he wouldn’t be so fucking happy about it.
“Asshole,” you mumble only loud enough for him to hear as you sink back into the chair. 
He chuckles and you feel your insides turn. God, he’s annoying. Super annoying. 
Especially when he leans a bit to your side of the desk, face a lot closer to yours than it needs to be when he whispers, “Good job.” 
You glare at his soft expression, your own face heating up in something resembling embarrassment. 
“No need to gloat about your success, dickhead.”
“I’m not gloating,” he frowns, the smile slowly fading from his face.
“Sure you aren’t. You’re just kindly reminding me that you’re better than me.”
“That’s not what– That’s not true.”
His voice falters, and he leans back in his chair and taps his pen against the desk. You scoff at him, but it’s nowhere as threatening as you’d like it to be — thrown off by the quiver in his tone. 
“It is true,” you whisper, more to yourself, and avert your gaze from him. 
The professor picks up where he left off, and you let your thoughts scatter and eyes drift closed. It’s been a long day, you think. Thankfully, the professor’s got you and Wonwoo placed in the back, and so he doesn’t notice it when you manage to fall asleep in your chair, head falling to the side. 
Wonwoo notices, though. Your cheek squished against your shoulder, hair in your face. It’s not the first time you’ve fallen asleep in class, and he should probably start scolding you for it, but seeing your under eye bags and hearing your tired voice makes something turn unpleasantly in his stomach. And so he lets you sleep. 
(It’s all because of his perceptiveness.
You know about this trait of his, and it’s awful. How he hands you a pen when you’ve forgotten your own without you having to ask for it. How he knows when to shut up during an argument, because your face tells him he’s won. How he never feels the need to embarrass you, or anyone, for that matter.
He’s a good person in and out, and you hate him for it.) 
It’s not before the class is nearing its end that Wonwoo decides to wake you. 
“Y/N,” you feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake, and then a deep voice hits your ears. Wonwoo’s voice, you realize instantly, and then criticize your heart for jumping at the thought. “You might wanna wake up for this.”
“Huh?” 
Wonwoo’s smiling at you softly, and you sit up straight, confused. At least until you see your professor clutching his phone against his ear, muttering aggressively.
“His wife called,” Wonwoo explains in a hushed tone, leaning towards you so you hear him better. “I feel kinda bad for the guy. She doesn’t seem to like him very much.”
You rub your eyes and yawn, then realize Wonwoo is sitting right there, and clear your throat. 
“Maybe he’s an asshole.”
“Maybe,” he turns to look at you. “Girls like assholes, though, don’t they? 
Your breath hitches in your throat involuntarily. You’re not sure whether it’s from the question or from the way he’s looking at you – like he’s already got you all figured out – but it’s making you nervous. All of it, him. And now that you’re discussing a topic you’re not certain about, it shows. 
You chuckle nervously, “Where’d you get that from?”
“You, mostly.”
“Excuse me?”
He offers you a smile, one that you subconsciously accept by feeling your insides turn to mush. This has got to be the longest you’ve spoken to him without mutual friends around, and without arguing. Truthfully, you don’t hate it. You’d never have thought that this would be the topic of your first ever civil conversation, though. 
“Minghao? Seungkwan? Your type’s pretty obvious.”
“Do you spy on me or something?” you ask, a little baffled he knows the names of your previous boyfriends. You weren’t hiding it or anything, but Wonwoo’s never shown much interest in you outside of class. “Plus, that was months ago.” 
He fixes his glasses and tilts his head to the side.
“Yeah? And what type of guys do you like now?”
You open your mouth to answer, but the words die down in your throat. Not assholes, you could say. He’s sparked your curiosity, though — what type of guys do you like now? Because you know for a fact that you’re done with assholes, which is why you’ve been trying your hardest to classify Wonwoo as one up until now. 
“I–”
You’re saved from answering his question by your professor, who’s successfully hung up on his wife and is now announcing that class is over. 
A sigh of relief escapes past your lips — another thing that doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo, but he doesn’t push. He simply gathers his stuff, his pen that you borrowed included, and slings his bag over his shoulder. You smile at him, softly, a little hesitantly, because it feels right to do so.
His glasses rest at the tip of his nose as he stands up and says, “See you around, Y/N.”
Then, he walks off and you no longer fight the smile that makes its way to your face. 
“Okay, so I think we all know why this meeting is being held.”
This is the first thing Soonyoung says as he sits down by the round table in the cafeteria, latte almost spilling out of his cup. You and Minjeong perch up in curiosity, and she puts her phone away in favor of commenting Soonyoung’s poor word choices. 
“Meeting? It’s our lunch break, dude.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at Minjeong who snickers. “This lunch break is being held because–”
“–Because we need to eat?” you raise a brow. 
“Y/N, you are literally in no position to act all smart right now. It’s you that we need to talk about.”
“Me?”
You look to Minjeong, but she only shrugs, meaning that this is a Soonyoung thing. You try racking your brain to find what the hell he might want to discuss, but nothing comes to you. Not even when Soonyoung offers you one of his signature smirks that signalize he’s up to no good. 
“You, and hot nerd Jeon Wonwoo.”
Your mouth falls open in genuine shock. “Wonwoo?”
“Did you just call him ‘hot nerd’?” Minjeong slaps her hand over her mouth as she laughs, but stops when she sees you glaring at her. “Damn, okay, someone’s defensive.”
“Yes, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung leans over the table, hands together on the table like some sort of Hollywood detective. “What’s the deal with you and him?”
“What deal?” you look to the side for some help, but all Minjeong offers you is a smirk. She’s enjoying this a little too much for your liking. “Why are you looking at me like that? There’s no deal. We don’t get along, that’s all.”
“You sure looked like you got along yesterday,” Soonyoung giggles like a little schoolgirl, and you feel your face heating up. Of course he noticed, even though you barely talked with Wonwoo for three minutes. “Also, have you seen how he looks at you?”
“Like he wants to kill me?”
“Like he wants to kiss you. You’re mistaking passion for hate, babe. Or maybe you’re just pretending, because there’s no way you’re not seeing how cute you are together.”
“Me and Wonwoo?” you ask again, incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way.”
“You have to admit, he’s pretty hot,” Minjeong cuts in. “Plus, you guys have, like, undeniable chemistry.”
“The only chemistry me and him share is the class. Which already sucks enough.”
“You know what they say, denial is a river in egypt.” 
“Nobody says that, Minjeong,” you glare at her, deciding that it’s better to get out of here before you start doubting yourself. “Anyway, I gotta go to class, so get those Wonwoo delusions out of your heads, okay? Because that’s what this is — delusion.”
“Funny you had to clarify that.”
“Just because you’re insufferable,” you send them a painfully fake smile and grab your things so you can walk away, almost missing the words Soonyoung mutters under his breath. 
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Usually, you can’t be found in the university’s backyard ripping your hair, but usually, you also don’t fail your chemistry exams. 
You might be acting a tad bit dramatic, running out of class and sitting down on the grass with your back pressed against the stone cold wall to cool off, but that’s something to worry about later. Right now you’re just focused on feeling sorry for yourself. Which you are. To a very high degree. 
“Are you okay?”
You jump at the sudden intrusion to your self-wallowing, turning around only to be met with a familiar face. His glasses are high up on his nose and his hair is neat, smile lines nowhere to be seen.
“Wonwoo?” you ask, a bit embarrassed that he’s seeing you in this state, especially when he looks so put together. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I read here every free period,” he says, frowning. “It’s you that should be in class right now.”
“Do you have my schedule memorized or something?” you look at him accusingly, pulling your legs closer to your chest for comfort. “Anyway, I’m just sitting here.”
Wonwoo’s silent for a moment, pondering on what to do, and then he takes a step in your direction. You don’t run away or protest, so he takes another one and another one until he’s close enough to sink down on the grass next to you. 
“You look more like you’re drowning in sadness.”
“Yeah, well, I failed an exam, so,” you say and hand him the paper your hands gripped just a moment ago — your test with every mistake highlighted in red. The whole sheet might’ve just been red at this point, you think. 
He examines it, brows furrowed, then hands it back. “Chemistry? I thought you were good at that, though.”
Your heart falters in embarrassment.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. That’s why I’m fucking sad.”
You don’t mean for it to sound so angry, but it comes out harsh and bitter. It’s nothing like Wonwoo’s used to hearing you speak. And what comes after shocks him even more — the tears that well up in your eyes and then fall, he can see them even as you turn away from him, perhaps in fear of judgement. 
“Wait,” he says, a little dumbfounded. “Are you crying?”
It’s a stupid question, but his tone isn’t judging. Still, it doesn't ease anything — you feel like you’re about to explode. And what’s worse is that he’s here, Jeon Wonwoo, of all people, watching you cry over something so miniscule that he probably can’t even relate to. You’re not sure why it bothers you so much that he’s seeing you in this state, but it does, it really does bother you, so much you feel like you might die. 
“Yes, I’m crying, Wonwoo,” you say, wiping your cheeks to your best ability. “Jesus christ. I did badly on a test, so I already feel like shit, and then you always have to come up to me with those stupid comments of yours.”
He blinks in surprise from behind his glasses, and even through your bitterness, you think to yourself that he looks cute like that — confused, for the very first time. At least it’s the very first time you are seeing him like this. But, to be fair, this is his very first time seeing you like this, too. 
“I thought you liked it when I'm mean to you, though,” he says finally, and you look at him in disbelief.
“Wonwoo, are you seriously just here to imply I have a degradation kink?” 
He remains silent for a minute, hesitating.
“Great.” 
You laugh through the tears that have now stopped falling, and Wonwoo exhales in something that resembles relief. His gaze is still set on you, unrelenting, like he’s still trying to put together the puzzle. Does he want to leave? 
A part of you hopes he won’t. Because despite that it’s a bit embarrassing, you could use someone to talk to right now. Even if it’s just so you can get your frustration out somehow. 
“What I’m trying to say is,” he starts, choosing his words carefully. “I didn't mean it like that. I never do.”
You meet his gaze – soft eyes that remain otherwise unreadable – and let out a breathy chuckle. 
“Yeah, whatever.”
You kick one of the stones in front of you, and watch it bounce a couple of times before it settles a little further away. Wonwoo doesn’t leave, even though you’re giving no signs of continuing the conversation. He just sits there, shoulder a centimeter or two from yours, and listens to both your breaths. Both uneven — his is nervous, while yours is upset. 
“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says finally, catching you off guard just enough for you to turn in his direction again. “If I ever cross the line, tell me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He bites his lip awkwardly as you feel your heart dropping to your stomach. It’s silent for a while, the back of your throat burning — threatening that you might start crying again if you say something now. 
He pushes his glasses further up his nose, and that’s when you decide to take the leap. Leap meaning that you lean forward to engulf him in a hug, your head coming to rest on his shoulder. 
It catches him off guard, you can tell. His muscles tense, breath caught up in his throat and your own heart beats so fast you think you might die. But it feels nice, hugging him. And it feels even nicer when he wraps his arms around you, too, albeit hesitantly. 
You stay like that, bathing in his scent – peach and jasmine with a hint of something you can’t quite identify – and somehow, you feel at peace. The test is still at the back of your head, obviously, bugging you, but it’s faint compared to Wonwoo and his hand that begins to slowly stroke your hair. 
“Thank you.”
The words are whispered into the crook of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. 
They’re so quiet he barely hears them, might’ve mistaken them for a hiccup hadn’t he paid complete attention, but he is. He is paying attention. To how your muscles loosen up in his arms and there are no longer tears soaking through his shirt; how his own heart beats a little faster than usual; how he’s so painfully aware of the fact that talking to you only makes him like you more.
More meaning that he’s afraid he might be advancing from the useless crush he’d developed watching you argue with him during class. Advancing into uncharted territory that he’s never even intended exploring. Though he supposes he sabotaged himself by approaching you today. 
“It’s nothing.”
But it’s a lie. It is something — the butterflies in your stomach or the warmth spreading across Wonwoo’s chest. Whatever you want to regard it as, it is something. 
And that something settles in the very depths of your mind and his mind alike. 
When Soonyoung announces that he’s bringing Wonwoo to come study with you and Minjeong in the library, your first instinct is to tell him you’re not coming. 
Obviously, you’re embarrassed. And scared. And a million other things you can’t even begin to describe with words. He saw you crying, after all. Jeon Wonwoo, top of the class, saw you crying over a bad grade. It really doesn’t get much worse than that. 
Still, you go. Mostly because you know staying at the dorm would spark questions from your nosy friends, but also because you don’t want Wonwoo thinking you’re avoiding him. Or else he’s going to think you care — which, essentially, you do. But he doesn’t have to know that. 
“Do you think Wonwoo will laugh at me if I get the questions wrong?” Minjeong asks as you stand outside the door to the library, her hand on the handle.
“No,” you say. “He’s not like that.”
She opens the door, and you walk inside, met with the smell of books. Soonyoung and Wonwoo are sitting by the chess boards, talking, and you feel something turn in your stomach. Is it too late to leave now? Judging by Minjeong’s worried face, she isn’t so keen on being here either. Maybe you could both just go home.
Yet when she bites her lip and asks, “Are you sure?”, you can’t bring yourself to lie just so you won’t have to face him.
“Yeah. You should ask him to teach you if you don’t understand something, you know. Better to feel a little embarrassed than to fail an exam.”
“I guess you’re right.”
Just as she says this, Soonyoung catches your gaze and waves eagerly, urging you and Minjeong to come closer. He whispers something to Wonwoo, and he, too, turns to smile in your direction.
“Guess there’s no backing out now,” Minjeong giggles and you nod your head. There really isn’t. 
The two of you make your way to the table where the boys are sitting and pick your chairs. Minjeong’s quick to sit next to Soonyoung, so you’re left with no other option but to plop down on the chair closest to Wonwoo. Normally, that would’ve only mildly annoyed you, but now, three days after he saw you bawling your eyes out, you can feel your heartbeat speed up vastly.
“Hey,” Wonwoo says and you almost jump. You’re not sure why, but you hadn’t expected him to speak to you first. 
“Hi,” you reply and try smiling at him. Thankfully, he smiles, too. “What are you guys studying?”
“Chemistry,” he says, and upon seeing you wince, he’s quick to add, “‘Cause Soonyoung’s struggling with it. He asked me to teach him.”
You have to bite back a smile at his worried tone. “Ah, I see.”
He fixes his glasses, and clears his throat.
“It’s a really tricky subject, though, so I understand why you– uh, he, finds it troublesome.”
“Right,” you nod your head with a giggle, and you can almost feel Soonyoung’s stare burning into your side. It’s fine, though, because now, Wonwoo looks the slightest bit more relaxed. 
You pull out your notebooks and textbook along with a coffee you’d made earlier, and when Wonwoo says your notes look pretty, you can’t help but grin. You kind of wish he weren’t so nice to you, but it doesn’t make you feel awkward, so you suppose you don’t have much room to complain. 
It’s probably just reality catching up to you that’s making you nervous — the fact that he’s not so argumentative outside of class, and that you definitely felt something pull at the very bottom of your heart that day you failed the exam. That, and how the feeling isn’t giving any signs of leaving soon.
You let those thoughts wander as you start making notes, and soon enough, even Soonyoung goes quiet, occupied by his own stuff. It stays like that for a while, and at some point, Wonwoo’s knee bumps into yours. Warmth spreads all across you and you look at him. 
“Sorry,” he whispers apologetically, retracting his leg, and the warmth subsides. In return you send him a smile in which you hope he can’t glimpse your slight – and unsettling – disappointment. 
“It’s okay.”
And then it’s silent again, your body painfully aware of the fact that if you lean your leg a bit to the right you’ll touch Wonwoo. It’s not like you want to touch him, at least you don’t think you do, but the awareness is slightly nerve-wracking for some unknown reason. Everything about him is.  
“Wonwoo,” Minjeong says, breaking the silence, making both his and your heads shoot up to look at her. “Y/N told me you could help me if I asked, so… I was wondering if you could explain biomolecules to me.”
“Of course.”
A quick smile flashes in your direction and then he’s leaning over the table to help Minjeong. His fingers follow the illustrations in her textbook and he starts talking — something about structure, you think. You listen intently, and it makes sense even though you’ve barely started the chapter, but you can’t bring yourself to take notes of what he’s saying. Can’t bring yourself to take your eyes off of him.
You wonder silently if he always was this handsome. You try to think of the times you spoke to him in class before, but it’s hard to recall his face in any other form than what your eyes meet now — focused gaze, lips moving to the rhythm of his voice. His glasses are slowly sliding down his nose, and you feel an immeasurable urge to push them up, but he beats you to it. 
“Basically, they’re essential for cell division to happen,” he says, and you lean forward to look at the picture he’s pointing to.
Your shoulder bumps into his and he turns to the side. You notice, but don’t react in fear that you’ll just end up giggling like a schoolgirl. Instead, you pretend to read some of the text in the book. 
Wonwoo picks up where he left off, voice a little hoarser than before, but you don’t move. Neither does he.
“Can you say that again?” you ask after he says something you don’t understand. 
He repeats with his head turned in your direction, and your eyes drift down to his lips. You don’t want them to, it just happens, your stomach tying into a tight knot. You’re almost entirely sure nobody is supposed to look this hot while talking about biomolecules. Or was it morphogenesis? You honestly don’t know. 
You don’t know why you feel like this with him of all people. Truly, there could be a lot of factors playing into it. The fact that he’s a smooth talker; the fact that he’s both intelligent and knowledgeable; the fact that you’ve grown to know him — what makes his blood boil and what makes him chuckle; the fact that he’s a constant in a sea of variables. 
Maybe that last point especially. That even when everything else goes to hell, the moment you step into social anthropology class, he’s always there. Always willing to entertain you with, albeit sometimes pointless, banter. 
You don’t even know what this is, though. Feeling your head spin when you look at him, having mini heart attacks when he says your name — are these the signs of you going insane? It could very well be that, you think. Insanity feels like the right word to explain your state right now. 
“Y/N,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You listening?”
Your eyes drift back to his own, and you swear you see a glimpse of amusement playing in his gaze when you mumble a quiet “Yeah.”
Suddenly very aware of Soonyoung and Minjeong’s presence, as well as Wonwoo’s burning stare, you stand up, dusting off your clothes.
“I just need some fresh air,” you offer as an explanation. 
“Mind if I join?”
You look at Wonwoo in disbelief as he asks the question. What the fuck? You don’t mind – at least in the sense that implies you don’t like his company – but it’s the same issue again; he makes you nervous. Goodbye to going for a relaxing walk, you suppose. And goodbye to whatever left there is of your sanity. 
After what seems like hours of overthinking, you decide to get your shit together and send him a smile paired with a nod. Minjeong raises a brow in your direction, but doesn’t inquire further and internally you thank her for that. You’re not sure what you would’ve told her if she asked. 
You and Wonwoo leave the library together, shoulders close together just like when you were sitting, and you swallow the lump in your throat. 
“Everything okay?” he asks as you leave the building. “You seem a little dazed.”
The air is still cold, though winter is nearing its end and spring is slipping through the cracks. You pull your jacket closer to your body in hopes of both warming yourself up and slowing down your heartbeat, but it only fulfills one of those wishes, leaving you to deal with the latter yourself. 
“I’m alright,” you respond with a soft smile. “Thank you for helping Minjeong, by the way. You’re a great teacher.”
Wonwoo’s smile lines shyly make an appearance. “Thanks. I’ve been thinking about becoming a real one, actually.”
You stop walking and turn your head in disbelief. Somehow, you didn’t expect that answer. Wonwoo was always a diligent student, but now that you come to think of it, he never really talked about his plans for the future, or what he wanted to do with his degree in chemical engineering. 
“Seriously?” 
“Yeah,” his cheeks redden ever so slightly. “Teaching chemistry honestly doesn’t sound that bad.”
You take a moment to think it through — him, in a suit and those glasses that fall down his nose, teaching kids about biomolecules. The idea is foreign, and yet, it fits just right. 
You nudge him with your shoulder. “Professor Jeon, huh? It would suit you.”
He lets out a snort of laughter that sounds nothing like the small chuckles you’d hear from him during class. But it sounds nice, this loud laughter and you bathe in it for as long as it lasts. You’re starting to enjoy this whole ‘being kind to each other’ thing. Suits you better than yelling about something stupid in class. It suits him better, too. 
Content with everything, you begin walking again and he follows suit. The grass is a little wet from yesterday’s rain and outgrown as it is, it tickles your ankles. It might’ve been mildly annoying if you weren’t so stupidly happy for whatever reason.  
Whatever reason being Wonwoo, of course. You might be bad at chemistry, but you like to think you’re not dumb — at least not in an oblivious way. It’s become quite obvious, you think, that you like him. 
The thought partly makes you want to kick your feet in the air and partly, it makes you want to rip your hair out. You like Wonwoo. It’s something so unexpected it makes you feel very bare as you stand there on the grass outside of your university, with your cold hands buried in the pockets of your jacket and Wonwoo’s eyes glimmering in the faint sunlight. 
You like him. God, it feels weird to admit. 
“About that day…” Wonwoo’s voice brings you back to reality, and you take a second to register what he’s saying.
“I freaked you out, didn’t I?” you ask. 
“No, no, it’s not that,” he looks away and sighs softly, only to look directly at you the next second. “I just wanted to make sure you remember that one mistake doesn’t make you a failure. I should’ve said it earlier, but that day I was a bit… taken aback, I suppose. Not by the crying, obviously, but by the whole situation. And you.” 
“Me,” you repeat, tasting the word on your tongue. Your heart starts beating a little faster, despite your best efforts at staying calm. He’s just talking after all; it’s not like this is some sort of love confession.
“Not in a bad way. Just in a new way,” he’s quick to assure you and you feel your heart swell in your chest. 
“New. You make it sound so pretty.”
You laugh a bit, looking down on your hands. It. Does he even know what you mean? Does he know you’re talking about the fact that you’re slowly but surely starting to fall in love with him? Or is he just talking about seeing you vulnerable the other day? 
“What would you call it?” he asks and you can’t stop your gaze from drifting back to him.
“I don’t know, confusing? And kind of insane.”
You swear his eyes drop to your lips for a mere second at that. He doesn’t say anything, just walks by you in silence, and it drives you crazy. You wish he’d say something – anything – just so you’d know if you’re even on the same page, but you don’t rush him. 
Finally, he smiles at you. 
“If insanity is losing control, then yes, I suppose I’m going insane. But it doesn’t feel all that insane to me.”
His eyes crinkle, soft streaks of sun painted across his face and you almost sigh. In delight, relief, or maybe fear, you’re not sure, but it’s those words, you think, that will linger. Those are the types of words to never abandon your mind, you’re sure of it. 
“Did you rehearse this in front of the mirror or something?” you scoff at him, heart heavy in your chest. 
He only laughs, and the sound stays in the air for a long time after you’ve left. 
To say you were shocked to see Jeon Wonwoo sitting outside of his dorm with his head in his hands would be a major understatement. 
You had grown closer to him in the past weeks — walking shoulder to shoulder around campus; him helping you with your homework — it all would’ve seemed unlikely had someone proposed the idea to you a month prior, but now, you had grown to truly enjoy his company. And he enjoyed yours, too. 
In some ways, it stayed normal. 
Comments and half-mean, half-endearing remarks remained untouched; what didn’t was your heart. It seems to be working against you at all times, beating too quickly when Wonwoo unexpectedly smiled in your direction, and dropping down to your stomach in fear whenever you saw him tippling over in emotion, only for the feeling to fade to the sound of his laugh.
This time, though, it doesn’t fade, only intensifies as you hear him curse under his breath. 
“Wonwoo?” you try, and his shoulders tense ever so slightly. 
You watch as he sighs, rubbing his eyes, then sits up straight, back against the wall. He doesn’t respond, even as his eyes, frail as ever, look into yours. They’re a bit darker than usual, and his lashes flutter as he blinks up at you. 
There’s no one in the hallway, as if this part of the school emptied just to grant you a moment of privacy; a deciding moment, something in your stomach tells you. 
“What’s happened?” you ask softly, quietly, unsure of what else to do with this obviously unhappy Jeon Wonwoo that’s sitting on the ground in front of you. 
“It’s nothing,” he mumbles in response, leaning on his arms to stand up. “Just some school stuff.”
The corners of his mouth lift in a small smile, but you call his bullshit. You don’t necessarily doubt the genuinity of his smile, but the way he said it makes you think there is something that happened. 
Taking a step in his direction, you nudge him with your elbow. 
“What, the golden boy failed a test for the first time in his life?”
His eyes change at that — soft crinkles appearing at the very edges of them. His shoulders relax, too, and though it’s barely visible, you see it clearly. The air feels a lot lighter when he tongues his cheek and nudges you back. 
“You sure run your mouth a lot, Y/N,” he grins and you feel butterflies flapping around in the very pits of your stomach. Then the smile fades to be replaced with a faux scolding look as he says, “I suggest you stop.” 
You move to stand right in front of him, arms crossed over your chest. He’s taller, and you have to tilt your chin to look him right in the eyes as you giggle with a hint of playfulness in your gaze. 
“Or what?”
He sees the smile playing on your face, the giddiness in your tone, and his heart bangs loudly against his chest. You look gorgeous today — well, that’s nothing new but it never ceases to amaze him how you can look prettier for each day that goes by.
Is this it? Is this when he’s supposed to make a move, like Soonyoung told him to? What does even ‘make a move’ mean, exactly? 
He supposes it varies — just like the value of variables in the equations he solves so often. 
Then how come he can’t solve this one?
You’re still standing there, looking at him without a care in the world, and he thinks that he’d never forgive himself if he screwed this up. At the same time, it doesn’t seem like you’re ready to run away from him, and so perhaps making a move doesn’t sound so stupid right now. 
“Or,” he starts, and lets his eyes glide down to your lips for a moment to test the waters. You don’t scream in fear, and he takes it as a good sign. “I’m gonna have to make you.”
You giggle. “Yeah? And how exactly are you gonna do that, big boy?” 
He feels his stomach turning upside down, squeezed by some invisible force and he has to remind himself to breathe. Is he really going through with this? Don’t start something you can’t end, Soonyoung would probably tell him. For once listening to his advice seems reasonable. 
“Like this.”
And before he can even think of backing out, he brings the palms of his hands to cup your face and leans down, placing his lips against yours. 
Taken aback, you let out a startled noise, eyes growing wide. He hesitates upon seeing your reaction, about to pull away when you finally kiss him back, tongue swiping over his lower lip ever so slightly. 
A groan. Then, he’s bringing his hand to the back of your head and pulling you towards him, kissing you until your head starts to spin, and kissing you through that, too. 
Your arms hold onto his shoulders for support, cheek leaning into his touch. Your noses touch clumsily; teeth clash when you open your mouth to let him explore it. Still, it feels like heaven and you can’t bring yourself to pull away for a breath. 
Wonwoo, though, the more sensible one of you two, pulls back after a while, a smile on his lips and breath ragged.  
You look at him — waiting for him to pick up where he left off, but he doesn’t move.
“That’s it?” you ask, and for a brief moment, all color drains from Wonwoo’s face. Did you not like it? Did he do something wrong?
“What do you mean?”
“You’re just going to leave me hanging like that?”
Your lip pulled between your teeth, you look at home expectantly, heart still hammering against your ribs. Truly, it’s not just about wanting more – though that plays a part in it, too – it’s also about whether this was a one-time-thing.
“Was it not enough for you?” he asks, tilting his head to the side after he’s calmed his racing heart. 
“Considering I’ve been waiting for this, like, a month,” you say. “not really, no.”
He smiles down on you — that same smile that makes you weak in the knees, and you know there’s no turning back now. Not that there ever was. 
“I think you’re a bit greedy,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you shiver in anticipation. “I’ve been waiting for half a year, and yet, I still have some self control left.”
“I never had any in the first place.”
And with that, you pull him close for another kiss. 
He doesn’t protest, opening his mouth and sucking on your tongue. His hands move down to your waist this time, pulling your body flush against his. You’ve never experienced being in such close proximity with him, and yet, you don’t feel all that nervous. It all slips away with his soft touches. 
Your hands in his hair — it feels foreign, but he likes that feeling, gets drunk on it. But it’s some kind of reversed intoxication; he doesn’t feel faint; if anything, he’s feeling more sober than ever before as he bathes in your taste, your scent, you. This must be what love feels like, he thinks. This must be it, or else he’s certain he’ll never know love. If this isn’t it, he doesn’t want to know love. 
He hopes you’re at least feeling a fraction of what he’s feeling as he pushes you gently against the wall, hands roaming your body. You do the same, holding onto him like he’s your lifeline, tugging at the strands of hair available to you. 
So caught up in this feeling of bliss, you don’t even notice how you’re not alone with Wonwoo anymore until you hear laughter from a group of bypassing students. 
“Get a room,” someone says and you pull away from Wonwoo immediately, face hot with embarrassment.
He doesn’t appear shaken, though — rather, you glimpse the shadow of a smile playing on his lips as he urges the students to leave. Just as you’re about to ask what he’s smiling about, his fingers close around your wrist and he pulls you along the hallway. He’s all rushed steps until you reach the nearest classroom that turns out to be empty, and he walks inside, dragging you with him. 
Upon closing the door behind him, Wonwoo drags you into his chest. You look up at him, his inquiring gaze that asks for permission, and smile.
“Are you sure?” he asks and your grin turns teasing. 
“Sure about what, Woo?” 
He tongues his cheek, unsure of what to say. You’re just plain teasing him – that much is obvious – so he supposes he can give the same energy back. 
“Sure that you want me to fuck you.”
You’re taken aback, though perhaps you shouldn’t be, considering how you set yourself up for this with your question. Still, your breath catches in your throat and your hand holds onto one of the nearby desks for stability as you face him. Wonwoo looks different now, to some extent; maybe it’s the lighting that gives his eyes a different glow, or maybe it’s how the air has suddenly become swollen with tension. 
Whatever the cause, it excites you to no end, the way he’s looking at you when you take his hand in yours. Like you’re the only thing that matters. 
“Yeah,” you say finally. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
At that, he pulls you impossibly closer. He takes off his glasses in a manner that you in a drunken state would’ve most likely called seductive, and throws them away somewhere you can’t see, too busy kissing him back when his lips crash into yours for the nth time today. He kisses you so hard it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and all thoughts out of your brain. 
Mouth open, you let his tongue explore it and simultaneously, you allow him to walk you further into the classroom, until the back of your thighs hit one of the desks. Standing between your legs, he pushes your shirt up so his fingers can graze the bare skin underneath, and you sigh in content. 
Before you know it, he’s pulling away to peel off your shirt and bra, leaving you bare in front of him.
“You’re beautiful, you know,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to yours again.
You smile into the kiss, goosebumps spreading over your skin with the touches of his fingers that glide further up your thigh, until they slip under your skirt. Knuckles running over your soaked panties, he bites your lip and you let out a delighted moan. 
“You’re so wet,” he comments as he slips a finger under your panties, running it through your folds. You can already feel another flood of arousal approaching just because of his words. “Won’t even need to prep you, huh?”
You desperately shake your head no, and he chuckles.
He lays his palm flat against your clit and you squirm until he retracts it. Playfulness in his gaze, he smears your arousal all over your cunt, ignoring your whines. This takes him at least half a minute before he finally – upon hearing you whimper his name in a way that makes his pants a whole lot tighter all of a sudden – gives in and slides one of his fingers into your pussy. 
You throw your head back with a whimper, holding onto his shoulder as he starts pumping it in and out of you, noises caused by the movement filling the air. 
“Oh my god,” you breathe as he adds another one, your cunt tightening around his digits endlessly. 
He smiles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder which is an immense contrast to how he curls his fingers inside of you, hitting that one spot that makes your toes curl. He plunges his digits in and out of your hole as his thumb circles your clit, until you’re moaning loudly — despite how little time has really passed. 
It’s in utter shock that you watch him retract his hand completely, sucking the arousal from his fingers with a smile. 
“Wha–” is all you manage to say before he flips you over, bending you over the desk. 
You’re painfully aware of how bare you are in front of him — your naked cunt on display, because your skirt doesn’t do much to cover anything at all, and your tits pressed against the wood of the desk. Plus the fact that the locked door won’t do much good if someone is to have class in this room next period. Which would be in about thirty minutes. 
Not that you care. Or, essentially, you do care, but now it doesn’t really matter — besides, you’re certain that Wonwoo would’ve managed to come up with some sort of excuse had you been forced to open the door for some frustrated professor. 
Amidst your thoughts, you almost fail to hear the sound of Wonwoo unclasping his belt. Almost. But when you do hear it, something turns pleasantly in your stomach. 
“You gonna be good for me and stay quiet?” Wonwoo asks and you feel his hands move to hold your hips, cock positioned at your entrance. 
You mumble something in affirmation, something you’re not even sure you can hear yourself, and spread your legs to urge him on. You feel his cock prod at your soaked cunt, run through your folds languidly; again and again, until you’re whining his name in protest. 
He only chuckles at your behavior, and asks, albeit teasingly, “What did you say?”
Gathering your thoughts, you try your best to ignore the way he’s dragging his dick over your pussy, occasionally rubbing over your clit. 
“Yes, I’ll be good for you, Wonwoo.”
Pleased with this response, he finally enters you — cock stretching you open and making you cry out, holding onto the desk for support. He’s big, you realize, tears prodding at your eyes as he bottoms out. 
“Yeah? Gonna be my good girl?” 
You nod and nod, fingers turning white from how you’re gripping the wooden desk once he starts moving — in languid strokes, he manages to turn your moans louder and louder. 
His hands hold onto your hips, pushing them against him so you’re further impaled on his cock with each thrust, and you swear you feel him all the way in your stomach. It’s a good feeling, one you can barely register fully with the way your mind’s gone hazy. 
You hardly notice it when one of his hands lets go of your hips and comes up to your lips, fingers tapping at your chin as a signal to open your mouth. When you do, he slips two digits inside and you suck on them obediently, tightening around his cock. 
Wonwoo smiles.
“Thought I told you to be quiet, baby.”
In all honesty, he loves the nosies you’re making, but he can’t risk someone starting to bang on the door before he’s got you falling apart completely. Besides, the sight of you sucking on his fingers is just as pleasing; just as effective in making his cock twitch in your cunt. 
Your walls suck him in perfectly, the sound of him gliding in and out of your pussy loud in the empty classroom. His thrusts grow gradually harder; the desk starts moving in rhythm with them, and you can’t help letting out moans and whimpers that his digits in your mouth do a poor job of concealing. 
He realizes this, and decides on removing his fingers so they can grab at your hair instead, pulling your back closer to his chest. Your tits bounce with his movements, and he plays with them briefly, groaning as your pussy clamps down on him especially hard at that, but then his hand moves between your legs to tend to your clit. 
He rubs it in circles, granting you an occasional pinch or slap that makes you cry out, and you feel the knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter. 
“Feels so good, Wonwoo,” you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks as his fingers abuse your swollen clit. 
“I know, baby.”
Barely coherent, you beg him not to stop, and he wonders whatever even prompted you to think that he might want to stop. He only fucks into you harder, hand on your hips to steady the thrusts that bring you closer and closer to coming. 
“Wonwoo,” you say. “So close.”
“Yeah? Gonna come for me, baby? Gonna come all over my cock like a slut?”
You nod, though he probably doesn't see, and he pulls you even closer, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sight in front of him. And to think he could’ve had this earlier had he taken the chance. You in the shortest skirt he’s ever seen, moaning his name like you don’t care if anyone hears — he honestly thinks he might be in heaven. 
“Good girl,” he groans, and that’s what sends you over the edge, your pussy clamping down on his cock as you reach your orgasm. “Good fucking girl.”
He comes less than five seconds later, buried deep inside of you as his cum coats your walls. You whimper at the overstimulation of his last thrusts, collapsing on top of the desk when he pulls out. 
He’s careful not to hurt you, but you still wince slightly, which prompts him to ask you if you’re okay.
“Never better,” you reply, and as soon as you say it, you realize it’s true. 
Wonwoo smiles. He helps you clean up – repeatedly apologizing that he’s wiping you clean with the paper by the classroom sink, even though you tell him it’s fine – and puts his glasses on again. It kind of makes you wish he’d never taken them off, but there’s no way you’re telling him that. Your opinion about his beauty is something you’ll keep to yourself for now. 
You get ready to leave just as someone knocks on the door, and Wonwoo opens it for a very flustered professor that tells you he’s sorry for interrupting. Wonwoo tries telling him it’s not like that – though it definitely is like that, and the blush coating his cheeks does nothing to hide it – and finally, you’re in the hallway, free. 
“Poor guy,” you comment, a smile playing on your lips.
Wonwoo sighs. “Tell me about it. And here I was, thinking we’d gotten lucky.”
“I think we did get lucky, though.”
You say this without thinking it through, but from the way Wonwoo’s eyes light up, you’re glad you didn’t. 
Suddenly, the doors to all classrooms in the hallway open and out come tired students, marking the start of the next period. Which you’re supposed to spend in biology.
You sigh, and Wonwoo seems to get it, because he tells you to leave for class. 
“By the way, Y/N,” Wonwoo says just as you’re about to leave. Something in his gaze tells you this isn’t just a ‘by the way’ thing. “In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m really in love with you. And I’d like you to be my girlfriend.”
“Well, you’re in luck, mister,” you kiss his jaw with a grin. “Because it so happens that I’m in love with you, too. And I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
TAGLIST: @just-here-to-read-01 @syn-hhj @nikkell @dollyji
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lazycats-stuff · 3 months
Note
Dick bringing his boyfriend to meet his family and then trying to intimidate the reader, but the reader is too oblivious and optimistic he doesn't realize it and the family is surprised about how happy he is and his pure kindness, so they accept the reader and five Dick the whole 'if you hurt him talk'
Ah yes, the meeting the boyfriend. But then the reverse... I love these tropes.
Summary: (Y/N) meets the fam. And the tables turn.
Warnings: minor cursing, but not much, usual hurt them we hurt you talk... (Y/N) being sweet.
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Dick was nervous as hell. Like never before even. And he is Nightwing, fighting crime and criminals alike. But never would have prepared him for introducing his boyfriend to his family. He loved his family, his brothers and father and Alfred as his grandpa, but they were all protective.
Someone meeting his family meant subtle threats, jabs and once that someone is gone, a background check. It was annoying to Dick and he told his family so. He really did. But his family doesn't really listen to him, saying that it was for his own good. You never know who is dating you due to a connection to the last name Wayne.
So, they might have had a point about that part. But still. Dick knows who is with him due to the connection to the Wayne family. He would know who is with him for material reasons. He knows the signs.
But (Y/N) isn't like that.
(Y/N) is a genuinely the nicest person ever. Happy too. Just happy to exist. Even in Bludhaven. I mean, what more could Dick ask for? He had his own personal sunshine. (Y/N) often volunteered, whether or not is it in an animal shelter homeless shelter, charities and what else. Also, that's the reason why (Y/N) has 3 cats at his apartment and probably will have more if he brings more kittens from the shelter.
All in all, Dick was happy with (Y/N) and knew that (Y/N) was just as serious about this relationship as Dick was. That much was obvious and after a year of dating, just to be sure that (Y/N) was serious about this, Dick decided to bring his boyfriend to his family, so they could meet him.
Dick was... Nervous to say the least. He didn't want his family to run (Y/N) off. (Y/N) was probably the one for Dick. And Dick refused to let it slip through his fingers and allow his family to scare (Y/N) off. Nope. Not happening.
Dick parked the car in the manor's yard, turning to look at his boyfriend, who smiled at Dick.
" Are you nervous? " Dick asked (Y/N), who shook his head in response. " Really? You aren't? " Dick teased and (Y/N) huffed.
" It's easier knowing your night job identity. And then knowing about the others too, you know... It's easier. But no, I'm not nervous. " (Y/N) explained, opening the passenger door to get out.
Dick laughed as he got out too, walking over to (Y/N) to hold his hand, intertwining his own fingers with (Y/N)'s. They squeezed their hands and Dick rang the doorbell, waiting for Alfred to open the door.
" There is no turning back now anyway. " Dick said, making (Y/N) huff.
" I can simply snatch the keys and drive off. " (Y/N) responded, making Dick chuckle.
" You wouldn't. " Dick teased again and (Y/N) opened his mouth to retort, but Alfred opened the door, smiling at the duo.
" Master Dick, it's always great to see you. And this must be master (Y/N). " Alfred said, extending his hand to shake (Y/N)'s. (Y/N) shook Alfred's hand with a smile.
" It's nice to meet you Alfred. Dick always speaks highly of you. " (Y/N) stated, making Alfred chuckle.
" I can only hope so. Please, come in you two. " Alfred said as he stepped aside to let the two in. (Y/N) smiled as he looked around, turning and tilting his head.
" This is a beautiful place... " (Y/N) muttered, making Dick smile. Manor is truly a beautiful place, both inside and out. Dick knew that (Y/N) would love it.
" I agree. But you should see the garden later. It's like a piece of art. Now come on, let me introduce you to my family. " Dick said as he lead (Y/N) into the big dining room, where his brothers and father were.
Everyone stopped talking and turned their heads to look at Dick and the mysterious boyfriend that Dick talked about before.
" Everyone, this is (Y/N), my boyfriend. " Dick announced and Bruce stood up, ready to shake his hand. Dick's brothers followed and soon enough, everyone sat down at the table, ready to be served by Alfred.
" So (Y/N), what do you do for a living? " Jason started and Dick glanced at Jason, knowing what that question was opening. An interrogation. And also a background check for later in the Batcave.
" I'm a librarian. I work in a library in Bludhaven. " (Y/N) said with a soft smile that made Dick's heart flutter.
" That's a nice occupation. " Bruce chimed in. " No stress, some paperwork I assume, but all in all, a relaxing job. " Bruce elaborated and (Y/N) nodded in conformation.
" That is true, it's a great occupation. " (Y/N) said and then turned his head when he heard Titus coming. (Y/N) knew who Titus was, seen many pictures from Dick.
" Why hello. " (Y/N) said as Titus approached him, curious to see who the newcomer to the household is. Damian watched from his seat, curious about (Y/N)'s reaction with Titus. One way to judge someone's character is to see how they interact with animals. And Damian was very serious about his animals.
Dick watched from (Y/N)'s right how (Y/N) scratched Titus' ear, talking to him as if he was a baby. Essentially, in a universal tone reserved for all dogs. Well, all animals, lets be honest.
(Y/N) watched as Titus walked off, ready to just go to sleep as usual on the couch, making sure to take as much space as possible. As it normally is for dogs, of course.
" He is cute. " (Y/N) stated once Titus walked off.
" That he is. I presume you are an animal lover? " Damian inquired and (Y/N) nodded.
" More of a cat person, I have to admit. Volunteering in animal shelters around Bludhaven did it's magic on me and I that's why I have 3 cats at my place. " (Y/N) joked, making Damian smirk.
" Cats do have that charm about them. I also have one, named Pennyworth. " Damian said and (Y/N) laughed.
" I can only wonder after whom it was named. " (Y/N) joked, making Damian chuckle quietly.
Soon enough, the food was served and everyone dug into the food. (Y/N) was in love with the food, even asking Alfred for the recipe. It was incredible food and (Y/N) was happy once he finished his plate, even bloating up a bit.
Dick smile when he saw that. It meant that (Y/N) was full and happy.
" I have to say... That was amazing... (Y/N) said and Dick smiled at him, putting his hand on his knee.
" Yeah, Alfred is an amazing cook. " Dick noted quietly, sighing quietly from how much he ate. It was an incredible feast, that much was true.
" I'm going to the bathroom, excuse me everyone. " (Y/N) said as he stood up, slowly walking to the bathroom.
Everyone waited until he was out of earshot and then happened something that Dick never expected to hear.
" Dick, if you hurt him, I'm disowning you. " Bruce said shortly, making Dick spit his water out.
" What? " He asked as he coughed the remaining water out.
" You heard me. That boy is sunshine personified. Smiling, happy, nice to animals... How in God's name did you manage to get him? " Bruce questioned and Dick was confused.
" I agree with old man here. He's too good for you. I mean... I agree, you hurt him, you are no longer the member of the family. " Jason said, reaching for his glass of water.
Even Tim and Damian agreed with the fact that (Y/N) was too good for Dick, giving their own older if you hurt him talk... Holy shit.
" Wait... Does this mean you accept him as my boyfriend? " Dick asked, confused.
" Yes you dumbass. " Jason said, making Dick scoff in the process. " We like your boyfriend and he is genuine. He is clearly in love with you and vice versa. And if you mess this up, I'm killing you. " Jason added, making Dick roll his eyes.
" I won't mess it up Jay. "
" Good. If you do, sleep with one eye open. "
Dick scoffed again, crossing his arms. Tim chuckled quietly and Damian snickered quietly.
(Y/N) came back, sitting next to Dick. " You okay? You seem tense as hell. " (Y/N) asked and Dick forced a smile onto his face, wanting to make sure that (Y/N) didn't notice anything.
" Nothing. Just two siblings going at it. " Dick said, making Jason snort in response.
(Y/N) nodded, patting his hand before Alfred served them desert and sat down with them. Dick smiled as he ate, happy to see his boyfriend happy and his family accepting his partner...
Life is good.
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
Text
Injured (Jenni's Version): Future
Grace Clinton x Reader
Summary: You need to leave
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"Mami! Mami! Mami!"
You smile slightly, continuing to pack your suitcase as your son lays back on your bed.
"Yes, my James?"
He grins at you. "Can I come?"
You shake your head. "You know you can't."
"But why?"
"Because Paris is a long way away from Lyon." You add another set of pointe shoes to your bag. "And I need you to do a very special job for me."
You sit down on the bed, patting the spot next to you.
James is more than happy to crawl towards you, leaning close to hear his special job.
"You're a very responsible boy, aren't you?"
He nods. "I helped Mummy pick up Ollie's poo yesterday on our walk!"
Ollie's your family dog. Grace had gotten him for you when the first two rounds of ivf didn't take and you'd been so down about it. You were right in the middle of your third round and losing hope when Grace had come home with a German Shepherd puppy.
You called Ollie your good luck charm because two weeks after you'd successfully potty trained him, you fell pregnant with your other golden boy, James.
"That's very responsible!" You tell him," Because I need a very responsible boy to help me out."
"I'm responsible! I'm responsible! What is it?"
"I need you to be in charge of the house while I'm gone," You tell him," That's why you can't come with. You've got to make sure Mummy doesn't order takeout every day and cleans up Olivia's toys when she's done playing."
Olivia's the other light of your life, your nearly one year old daughter.
You didn't particularly want to leave either of them but you'd been called up by the Paris Opera Ballet to be their guest Principal for one of the shows they were putting on and you loved dancing in their venue.
Originally, you were going to say no but Grace pushed you to accept. She was more than capable of looking after both of the kids at once.
"I'll make sure Mummy eats healthy and cleans up!" James tells you," Can I go tell her I'm in charge while you're gone?"
"I'm sure she would love that."
James goes bursting out of the room and you take the time to finish packing.
Ollie whines a little as you zip up the bag.
"I'm sorry, Ollie," You say, gently stroking his head," You know I'll back soon."
Ollie's the family dog, technically, but, secretly, you know he's yours. He had been incredibly protective over you when you were pregnant with Livy and he had been super excitable as a puppy when you were pregnant with James.
Fully grown now, he loved being in the same room as you. He adored the kids and Grace, of course, but you had always been his person.
Frankly, you were getting a little worried he was lonely in the house alone all day so you and Grace had been in talks about getting Ollie his own puppy.
It was only fair to Olivia as well.
Ollie grew up with James. It's only right to have a puppy for Olivia to grow up with too.
But, that was a conversation for when you got back and after your planned trip to Spain in the summer.
It would be nice, you think, to have a puppy for Ollie to be the best big brother too just like how James is the best big brother to Livy.
Ollie follows you down the stairs, his favourite tennis ball in his mouth as you start pulling your suitcase down.
Grace appears at the bottom, hurrying up to swap the bag with Livy and carry it the down for you.
"Careful, beautiful," She says as you swap," You don't want to strain anything before you go on stage." She winks at you and you roll your eyes.
"Did James tell you I've left him in charge?"
"He did," Grace replies with a grin," I think he's already planning on demanding Big Bed access."
"Don't let him," You remind her but your wife just shrugs.
"I don't know. He's making a convincing case. Says that it would be cold without you and he should be there to warm it up."
"If you get him in the habit of sleeping in our bed while I'm away, Grace Clinton, then you're in trouble and I'm choosing what breed the next puppy is."
"Oh, come on!" Grace is laughing though so you know she isn't taking your empty threats too seriously. "Cab's here though. You finished up just in time."
"Okay." You pull on your coat surprisingly well for someone balancing a baby in the other arm.
You litter kisses all over Livy's face as Grace calls James to the door.
"I'll miss you, Mami," He tells you and you crouch down to give him kisses too.
"I'll miss you too, James," You say," I love you, baby."
"Love you too."
He curls into your arms and your rock him side to side softly before pulling away.
"Remember, you're in charge, okay? So I want you to boss around Mummy and make her eat healthy, deal?"
He nods. "Deal."
"I'll see you in a week, amor," You tell Grace, pecking her lips a few times and laughing when she tries to chase your kiss each time.
"Love you, beautiful."
"Love you too."
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pollyanna-nana · 6 months
Text
Imagine you’re Delgal. Imagine you were raised from birth alongside the court jester. You do everything together. You look up to him, being so much older. He seems wise and responsible, and always encouraging you and caring for you, more than your own busy parents are able to. In every sense of the word, he is your brother, despite how different you look and the distance of your station. The people around you tell you that he is an elf, the tone of their voice implying that’s something scary or even dangerous. But you disagree. That’s Thistle, your big brother.
But… as you age, things become confusing. You get taller, smarter, stronger, and Thistle is there for you through it all. Only… he never seems to change. In your entire journey to adulthood, he hardly seems to have aged a few years, if that. It’s amusing when you first grow taller than him, then grow facial hair, while Thistle’s short stature and youthful face remains the same. Still, you love him, love his music and his wit and even the bold-faced honesty that gets him in trouble if you’re not around to diffuse the situation. You wonder why such a person has been relegated to the inglorious job of jester, and your father tells you very simply that the magic elves wield is too powerful and dangerous to belong to any other position. But you think that’s nonsense, you’ve trusted Thistle from the day you were born and would do so until the day you die.
It isn’t until what should’ve been the happiest day of your life that you truly start to understand just how different Thistle is from you. Kneeling over your father’s cooling corpse, you take in the elf’s panicked face. He’s so young, so unchanged, and in that moment he seems nearly immortal to you. You’ve heard the stories of elf magic, how their spells could be used to heal wounds and raise the dead, but Thistle can’t do any of that. He hasn’t been allowed to. There’s nothing that either of you can do but watch your father slowly die in front of you.
You never want this to happen again, not when there’s something that can stop it. You make Thistle the court sorcerer, even as your advisors warn against it. But you’re the king, goddamn it, and you trust him. But more than that, you want what he can give to you. A power greater than any tallman could achieve. You become busier and busier, only checking up occasionally on his studies. He’s become incredibly proficient in a short amount of time, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Enemies knock on your door, famine chokes the population, and worst of all your beloved son has fallen ill. It’s just like the day of your wedding, but this time, you have something that can defy that fate. Thistle.
But still, it’s not enough. It seems that even elf magic has its limits, and you can’t help but become angry with him. He reacts like a scorned child— is a scorned child, as you’ve come to realize— and you apologize. But he tells you he has something secret to show you, something he’s been searching for, researching for these past few years. The idea unsettles you, but you’ve become desperate, and you can see that he has, too. So you follow him into the dungeon, watch him smash the statue of your kingdom’s guardian and pull the book from the rubble that would decide your and your people’s fate.
Your son is healed, your enemies repelled, and your people fed and taken care of. You’re happy, and so Thistle is, too. You recognize, vaguely, that despite this achievement the familial bonds between the two of you have never been thinner. But you don’t dwell on it. He did what you needed him to do, and now you no longer had to fear the indignity of death or strife.
But of course, things do not remain sweet forever. Thistle has only grown more attached to you, more loyal, and his behavior has become erratic and strange. He keeps you all cooped up in the dungeon, insisting that the outside world is too dangerous. There’s a hardness to his still-youthful features that you never saw throughout all those years growing up alongside him. Slowly but surely the person in your memory is replaced by something frightening, almost repulsive, after he strips your own son’s soul from his body. He seems so unaffected by it all, so… inhuman.
Eventually he decides to give you what you said you wanted all those years ago: to no longer fear death. To become immortal. But it is not what you had hoped for— every day seems to drag into infinity, with joy and mirth seeping rapidly from the unsettled townsfolk as decades, then centuries pass. Thistle has become entirely unapproachable, spending all his time fortifying the dungeon and watching obsessively for any signs of traitors that might challenge the throne. You feel hopeless in it all. No matter how you beg, he never seems to hear you. His power is overwhelming and you fear how he might react to more direct commands. The guilt is intense… you know you pushed him into this, pushed him to find a way to achieve everlasting peace at any cost. But this cost is too much. How could he not see that?
1000 years. 1000 years of this torture, and the population of your kingdom has dwindled to almost nothing. In your dreams you see the vision of a golden lion in chains, its wings pinned as it pleads with you to save it. To save your kingdom, to put the remaining souls to rest. You know what needs to be done, it’s told you the best way. You tell the mad mage that you wish to have dinner together with the whole ‘family’— just like the olden days— and the way his face lights up is almost enough to make you reconsider. Almost.
It was a lie, of course. While he’s distracted you take your son’s empty body, making your way to the surface as fast as your legs can carry you. You know what’s about to happen. You’ll become nothing but dust, but you’ll be free. And with any luck, soon everyone else will be, too. Breaching the surface you get the first rays of sun on your face in a millennium, take your last breaths of fresh air as you tell the story that will free your kingdom.
As you crumble away to nothing, a last thought enters your mind. Perhaps they were all right. Perhaps it was a mistake to trust an elf.
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ickadori · 9 months
Text
++ 𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐌𝐄/𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
[summary] uraume doesn’t like you, but sukuna has taken an interest in you, and there isn’t a thing in this world that they wouldn’t tolerate for lot sukuna, even if it is you.
[cws] fem reader. uraume hates you! they want to cook you, and mention it quite a lot -> mentions of cannibalism, but no one is actually eaten…yet. true form sukuna for the win. uraume very much has the hots for sukuna. team effort oral -> sukuna receiving. fingering -> reader receiving. threesome.
[an] inspired by this -> link. sosososososos happy this was planted in my head m going insane actually.
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Uraume hates you, indubitably.
You were a human, a sturdy one to be able to withstand Sukuna’s affection, but a human nonetheless. While their views on humans weren’t as grandiose as the likes of Geto, they still deemed them as beneath them, and anyone beneath Uraume had no business being in the presence of Sukuna, and yet you had been kept around.
They hadn’t known what Sukuna wanted with you at first — they had originally intended to cook you into a meal fitting for their king. You had plenty meat on you, and the king was often… hoggish when it came to his appetite, so you would have done a good job in being a filling meal, the only things humans were good for in Uraume’s eyes.
Sukuna had nearly beheaded them the moment a knife had been pointed in your direction. For whatever reason, you were special. It baffled them, entirely, completely, it still does. They had spent so much time watching you, observing all the things you did; the way you walked, the way your eyes nervously flitted about, never venturing past someone’s collar bones, the way you brushed your hair, the way fed yourself, how your fingers held the fork and knife (quite clumsily, may they add. You were clearly due for a lesson in etiquette.), how you tried and failed to properly tie your kimono, forcing them to fix it for you lest you both be on the receiving end of Sukuna’s wrath. Appearance is everything, didn’t you know that?
Speaking of appearances… you were pleasant enough to look at, but Sukuna had an endless sea of pleasant faces to pick from, ones that came with a bit of training, so what had drawn him to you specifically?
They couldn’t put their finger on it, and they guessed that it ultimately didn’t matter. You made their master happy, and they could tolerate you until you inevitably landed in his bad graces, and then they’d serve you up to him on a silver platter.
On the day that Sukuna had angrily called for them, they had thought you had finally done it, and had quickly come to his call with a pep in their step and a glint in their eye.
Uraume didn’t find extreme amounts of pleasure in killing others, it was simply a part of their job, but they can’t deny that the thought of being rid of you elicited a response similar to ones they got whenever Sukuna bestowed his praise unto them, something that hadn’t happened since you had wormed your way into their kingdom.
Yes, as humans say, Uraume was jealous. They were envious of the attention Sukuna gave you—and you were so greedy. You took it all and held onto it with an iron fist, scared out of your wits that he’d grow bored of you if you loosened your grip even the slightest bit, because then you’d be up for the pickings.
When Uraume finally made it to Sukuna’s quarters, the sight they were greeted with wasn’t a foreign one. He was sat on the bed, kimono pooled around him, while you kneeled between his legs, your own clothing nowhere in sight. His cocks were hard and twitching, fat dollops of pre-cum sliding down the shafts, coupled with the remnants of your saliva, or perhaps your slick.
So you had failed to please him, as many often did. One cock of that size was too much for most to handle, let alone two, and you were human, after all.
“Lord Sukuna.” Uraume drops into a deep bow, their head touching the cool floor and staying until they’re given permission to stand. “How can I assist you?” Would Sukuna have them dice you up and turn you into a nice stew? Or perhaps he’d like something a little more raw… Human meat and muscle tended to be tough and dry, if not properly prepared, but Uraume had done this for centuries, and was kept around for a reason.
They’d make you into a meal worthy of being consumed by—
“Train her on how to take me.”
Pardon?
“You.. don’t wish for me to dispose of her?” That fiery flame flickers in his eyes, and Uraume rushes out a thousand apologies, hand placed over their heart as they lower their gaze. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, my Lord. I shall do as you ask.”
This task has never before been requested of them, and they find themself at a momentary loss as they lower themself to kneel beside you, eyes scrutinizing you while you avoid their gaze. They quickly gain their bearings.
“Do I have permission to touch her, my Lord?”
“You do.”
“Open your mouth.” You look to Sukuna for confirmation, and Uraume bristles. As if you’re so high above them that you don’t immediately do as they say, tuh. With a nod from Sukuna, you’re hesitantly opening your mouth, and they insert two fingers, the pads of them pressing down on your tongue. They ignore the way that you gag and tears spring to your eyes, your clenched fists shaking on your bare thighs.
They push their fingers in deeper, making you violently gag as your throat constricts and you quickly jerk your head back. “I see what the problem is.” Their fingers are slick with your saliva, and they just barely resist the urge to wipe it clean on their clothing, figuring that Sukuna would take it as an insult. “You’re not relaxing your throat and jaw when you take him - allow me to demonstrate.”
Uraume turns to Sukuna, a flutter in their stomach as they direct a question his way. “Permission to pleasure you, my Lord?”
“Do as you please.”
They fall into habit easily enough - hands bracing against the thick meat of his thighs, tongue swiping out to wet their lips before moving to trail up the underside of his cock before placing a wet, gentle kiss on the head, quickly giving the other the same treatment. His scent is heady, strong, and Uraume breathes him in deep before their lips are wrapping around the dark, uncut tip, jaw and throat relaxing as they take him all the way in, nose pushed into a set of wiry curls.
Uraume cuts their eyes at you, lips stretched wide around the cock in their mouth, and find that you’re watching with apt interest, thighs not so subtly rubbing together as rock back onto your heel that’s positioned underneath you.
Greedy — putting your own pleasure before Sukuna’s. It’s unacceptable, and they rectify it with a swift snatch of your hair. You’re pushed towards his neglected cock, and you’re given a moment to prepare before it’s pushed into your mouth, Uraume’s hand on the back of your neck forcing you to take him all in.
You choke and gag, the action bringing forth a deep, guttural groan from Sukuna, and Uraume watches as he brings a hand down to grip your hair at the roots, his other holding the side of your face. Uraume’s nails bite into your skin before they can stop it, and you cry out as best you can, hands pushing at Sukuna’s stomach as your tears flow freely.
You’re flailing now, and Uraume has half a mind to let you fail again, not caring if they’re on the chopping block as well, but Sukuna comes before everyone else, first and foremost.
They pull their mouth off of his cock with a wet sound, strings of saliva and pre-cum stretching from their lips to the dribbling tip, and quickly lick it away as they place their hand around your throat, right where they can see the bulge formed. “You have to calm down.” Their thumb gently rubs against your skin, voice low and as soothing as it can get as their free hand smooths down the expanse of your back and over the curve of your ass. “Breathe through your nose - yes, just like that.”
Their fingers find your cunt, wet and plump, and two easily slip inside, walls eagerly sucking them in. “Move your tongue against him, he likes it.” You make a noise of complaint, and they tighten the hand around your throat. “You now live to please him, so please him. Move your tongue or I’ll—” A violent shiver wracks their body as Sukuna’s energy spikes, and Uraume softens their voice again, fingers twisting and rubbing as they search for that special spot that always renders the most skittish, stiff women into malleable, pliant dolls.
You finally do as they say, judging by Sukuna’s reaction, and Uraume keeps up their ministrations on your cunt, fingers plunging in and out, resulting in a lewd squelch, the sound barely audible over the way you occasionally gag and moan. Their gaze trails over to Sukuna’s neglected cock, and deciding that you’re doing a decent enough job now, they move to take him back into their mouth, fingers still moving inside you.
With your previous resistance gone, Sukuna takes it upon himself to move you back and forth on his cock, veins on the back of his hand bulging as he ruts into your mouth. Uraume does well enough on their own to be exempt from the treatment, head bobbing and hand fondling at heavy, full sacs as they suck, tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft, even occasionally mushing against his tip and pushing into the slit there.
Knowing him as well as they do, Uraume knows that Sukuna will come soon, and they suck in earnest, messily slurping and swallowing as his thighs tense under their touch. You suddenly tighten around their fingers, and a glance to the side shows your lashes fluttering, your jaw slack as Sukuna pulls out of your mouth, only to push right back in and bury himself to the hilt. Uraume does the same, welcoming the spurts of cum that trail down their throat as they eagerly swallow.
Your name is on Sukuna’s tongue as he pulls out of your mouth, and Uraume watches in distaste as you cough and splutter, wasting the cum that he had so graciously shared with you, and they find themselves leaning forward before they can help themself.
Their lips collide with yours, tongue licking into your mouth as they collect the remnants of cum inside, and they ignore the way you arch into them and grab ahold of their haori, fully focused on getting every drop they can. With a gentle suck of your tongue they finally pull away, and they blink at the way you follow them, eyes lidded and hazy as you try to go for another kiss.
They let you, not wanting to incur Sukuna’s anger for denying you, and you messily kiss them, although it’s more of a mash of lips and teeth as you moan against them and pant into their mouth.
Sukuna laughs, and a warmth spreads throughout Uraume when one of four hands comes to rest atop their head. “It seems as though you’ve gained her affection - you should be honored.” Hardly.
Sukuna hauls you up into his lap, and Uraume thinks their presence is no longer needed and begins to stand, only for the hand on their head to tangle in their hair and force them to their feet. “You’re not done yet.”
Confusion swims in their eyes, but it’s quickly sated when they see that Sukuna is ready to go again, one of his cocks nestled between your folds as you pathetically hump against it, hands grasping at his shoulders as you tip your head back, moans and cries bouncing off the walls. “As you can see, she’s quite greedy.” His hand roughly gropes at your ass, and he lifts you with little effort before placing you back down on his cock. He only gets the tip in before you’re gasping and clawing at his shoulders, head fruitlessly shaking back and forth as you babble out nonsensical words. “And inexperienced. I trust that you can fix this.”
“Of course, my Lord.”
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ripplestitchskein · 4 months
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The most compelling thing about this whole relationship, and I’d argue the show in general, and what the episode highlighted so exquisitely is that they are perfect for each other, they honestly are exactly what the other one needs but their individuals issues are preventing them from seeing and actualizing it. It’s a delicious character driven conflict. There is no big bad keeping them apart. There is no ill intentioned person pulling the strings and putting things in their head to foster this miscommunication. It is solely their own traumas and issues fucking them over in the most relatable ways. What is brilliant about it is that the entire linchpin of this, and the overarching theme is that this is all a circus show, that the root of it is that both of them have been putting on these acts their whole lives and if they would both just STOP performing they would get what they need. The conflict now is one of them is trying to stop acting altogether while the other is scrambling to stay on book.
Blitzø needs someone who will appreciate him, build him up, encourage him, love him without condition, obligation or most importantly, as merely the consequence of putting on a good performance. Stolas does that from the beginning, he sees and admires Blitz as he is, his problem is actually rooted in the act Blitz puts on. Even Blitz’s closest friends and family, and Blitz himself, can’t or won’t allow Blitz to stop the performance though.
Millie, Moxxie, and Loona all love him, but even they went into this episode putting pressure on Blitzø to perform even going so far as to follow him so he wouldn’t fuck it up. The sex toy shopping spree was just gathering props in service to that performance, to this show they are encouraging him not to bomb.
Fizz, who recently learned the lesson Blitzø needs to learn, who stopped performing for the benefit of others, is probably the only one approaching it from a “What kind of stuff do you guys actually like?” perspective, but because Blitzø is so focused on doing a good job he really doesn’t consider what he actually wants, he’s buying things he thinks will support the show. Lighting, costumes, props. Even the Stolas Sex Stuff box is basically just a prop comic box.
He needs to get his act just right and put on the best show he can so they can keep the book and to allow the show to go on.
But like his performances in the past, Blitz chokes. For the entire scene in the bedroom he is basically saying “Let me run that again, I’ll get the lines right this time!” And the reason it is so heartbreaking is that what Stolas wants, is just him, not the facade of a clown doing his best bits, just the person behind it. We see in The Circus Blitz has been told his whole life that not only does he need to keep putting on that show but that if he doesn’t he’s worthless. There’s always a better act waiting to take your spotlight, you can be bought and sold on a whim.
The Circus and its parallels in The Full Moon perfectly encapsulate this issue. He kept doing the same thing over and over, trying to make that balloon horse and it’s when he improvs and is himself that someone appreciates him, laughs with him and sees the value of him as Blitz not the clown, but because its not the audience as a whole it’s not worth anything and that’s when someone else swoops in to wow the crowd. We see this over and over in the show: he keeps trying the same schtick and when he flops he just gets more and more desperate to get his self assigned role right.
In Stolas’s case he was actually really good at his act when he followed the scripts he was given. Everyone around him seems shocked by his recent behavior, they really bought the happy family, regal prince play he’s been putting on all this time. Blitz comes back into his life and gives him a new script. In The Circus Stolas is himself at first, showing off his books and enthusiasm for knowledge but his audience isn’t responsive so he switches “What do you want to do? Give me the script for how you want me to act.” From when he first wakes up bouncing with enthusiasm and told “Stop being yourself, act like a Prince” he calms himself and tries to be what he’s supposed do be and he keeps doing that until Full Moon.
While Stolas enjoys their game and his new playmate he is pretty much putting on an act the entire time, looking to Blitz for cues over and over until they are under the tree. In this scene both Stolas and Blitzø are, in my opinion, both completely genuine and without artifice. Blitz expresses what he really wants, and Stolas is delighted and supportive of it, admiring him and expresses that he hopes he’ll do a good job with his grimoire and when Blitz says he’ll maybe hire him, Stolas is delighted but expresses that he hopes he’ll “qualify”. This shatters my heart into pieces, because even here while Blitz is dreaming his big dreams of being a boss Stolas is still “I hope I can learn how to do a good job with the role I’ve been given. I hope I can be what you want me to be.”
When they meet again 25 years later he looks to Blitz for the script again and fulfills the role Blitz more or less implies he wants to the best of his ability, if not over the top and over dramatized as it’s a new role for him. It still doesn’t fit quite right though. He’s still acting.
In The Full Moon Stolas is still following a script but one he’s at least written himself this time, no doubt influenced a bit by his romance novels and telenovellas. When Blitz approaches him and tries to seduce him again he flushes and wavers to go back to the character Blitz assigned him but he has a new script now and he gets back on task. He has a whole performance he is sticking to. He presents the crystal and has a little animation to explain it and everything.
But then we come to the moment when he isn’t acting anymore, when he genuinely tells Blitz this is how I feel, this is what I want, this is who I am. He even takes off his hat, you can hardly see his royal outfit, just his earnest face as he waits for the reaction of presenting himself as just Stolas saying what he wants and not Stolas the performer saying what everyone wants to hear.
Blitz is too caught up in trying to get them back on script, to keep up the show. He tries desperately to stick to the act, which Stolas is trying to break free from. This unfortunately confirms what Stolas suspected. It was always a play, it was always just a performance, like Stella and the other Ars Goetia, Stolas is only valuable if he says his lines right. Even his daughter lashes out when he starts breaking character. Those around him only value him if he is acting to type, he is not enough as just Stolas.
The horrible irony is he truly was awakened by Blitz. Hs stops acting because of him. He learns that he wants to be himself and not a scripted version designed to please others, but sadly it is Blitz, the catalyst for all of it, who is still stuck in performance mode. Stolas realizes because of Blitz something real, but during their conversation is shown that even Blitz just wants him to stay in character, that there is nothing real here, just more lines for him to say. So Stolas exits pursued by imp.
A lot of Blitz’s fury in this scene is because Stolas is not fulfilling his role any more. In this way he is no different than Stella or even Octavia. He is angry when Stolas stops saying his lines. He has gone off script. But where Stella is upset because it ruins her image, and Octavia is upset because it upset the fakery of her perfect family, Blitz is instead panicking because he NEEDS to get this performance just right. When he fails bad things happen, he is replaced, he is unloved, he is sold off, he is forced to do things he doesn’t want to do.
So he lashes out, he tries to FORCE Stolas back into the role he assigned him, to incite a confrontation from the character of pompous royal asshole stepping on the lower class and using them for their own gain instead of just a person earnestly trying to be genuine. Why is Stolas not saying his lines? Why isn’t he fulfilling his role? So he tells him what he is supposed to be. He yells at him to get back into character.
Stolas is devastated to realize the trope he’s been fulfilling in Blitzo’s life, he’s not the romantic love interest but rather the villain of the piece. He doesn’t even want to be in this show anymore, he wants to just be Stolas, and he is absolutely destroyed to learn that rather than just being himself, rather than even being the love interest, he is instead the antagonist in Blitz’s play. But he doesn’t want that role, or probably any role, any longer, he’s finally breaking out of these performances and being himself, so instead of reverting to type, Stolas sends Blitz off stage completely.
In this way it’s really beautiful for Stolas’s character growth, he could have just given in, stepped back on stage. He has so many opportunities to pick up these old characters he’s played, but instead Stolas follows through and just shuts the show down completely.
575 notes · View notes
lizdive · 2 months
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hello! platonic aventurine, jing yuan, blade, sunday, boothill, dan heng and dr ratio with a teen!reader who is like lynette from genshin?
please do include lynette’s backstory as well :3
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love my girlie lynette i remember when i first got her i maxed her out as quick as possible she’s so pretty <33 idk why tumblr wasn’t cooperating with me while i was trying to format this istg,,,, tysm for requesting !! sorry this took some time,, if you’re unsatisfied just tell me and i’ll redo it !! <33
notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" used to refer to reader ,, reader is a teenager ,, reader is based off of "lynette" from the game genshin impact ,, platonic relationships ,, mentions of being sold, close to being 'used', creepy old men, and other things relating to lynette’s past ,, yanqing is referenced in jing yuan’s part ,, mention of silver wolf in blade’s part ,, mention of march in dan heng’s part ,, mention of screwllum in dr ratio’s part ,, this is not proofread pls ignore typos especially bcs this is so long i cannot proofread this all rn
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⭑ AVENTURINE has worked with many people and therefore has seen it all when it comes to appearances and personalities, but you by far are the most interesting person he’s met.
⭑ He’s tried to interact with you before, and every time you give him a bizarre and odd response he only tries harder. Mostly because he wants to properly hold a conversation with you, but also because he wants to see how odd your replies can get.
⭑ He doesn’t blame you for not trusting him so easily. Many who have joined the IPC have done it out of force and therefore trust nobody. He actually feels a bit proud that you are not naive and stay guarded around the other workers so they don’t take advantage of you. Still, he’ll try his best to befriend you so you aren’t alone.
⭑ Finds your swordsmanship very impressive. Your agility and strength brings you praise from him and sometimes he’ll watch you train. You don’t say anything to him as usual. Whenever you spot him you just stare at him with that poker face of yours and continue as if he isn’t even there.
⭑ When he notices how much tea you drink on a daily basis, he’ll gift you the finest tea on the market as a 'good job' for completing missions successfully. You’ll know it’s from him because of it’s value and because he always leaves little notes on the boxes.
⭑ If you ever invite him to have some tea and sweets with you, trust that he will be there whether it be physically or using a hologram if he’s far away. He’ll prepare tea in his location and make it look like he’s actually present with you physically in the moment.
⭑ The longer AVENTURINE spends time with you, the more he finds himself subconsciously keeping a sweet treat with him at all times in case you’re craving something. If you’re off on a mission he’ll make sure to give you money for your tea and sweet treats alone and will ask you to send him pictures of what you got.
⭑ He’s is very interested in your feline features and traits. When you tell him about your rare case of atavism, he’s very intrigued. He may do his own little experiments like buying you cat toys to see your reaction which is up to interpretation. Also, he’ll bring you fish dishes during your lunch breaks whenever you forget to bring your food!
⭑ Loves watching your performances and would be honored if you asked him to assist you! If you ever want to hold something grand-scale he’ll be more than happy to rent you a full theatre to perform in. Best advertisements for your shows and everything.
⭑ When you open up to him about your past, he can only sit there is surprise and pity. You were so young yet already went through so much before joining the IPC. He can relate to you in some ways as well. He knows what it’s like to be sold off to men who only used instead of cared.
⭑ If you tell him that man may still be alive, he’ll do a bit of research. If he is, then AVENTURINE will have a lovely gambling match with him! No worries, it’s all for fun! Fun for you, at least, when you get to go shopping with all the money the man once had but now lost. Buy yourself some nice outfits and self-care products, you deserve it !!
⭑ If you ever have moments where you feel bad or icky from your past, or have nightmares, he’ll always be there to comfort you. Call him, text him, go up to him and ask for comfort, or if he’s near and notices he’ll come and ask you if you’re okay and if you wanna talk about it. He’s good at distractions. Why not have some snacks with him, It’s time for shopping, there’s this new restaurant that opened that serves purely seafood.
⭑ He’ll do the talking for you. If anyone tries to switch from him to you he’ll either let you give the weirdest response ever or steer them back to him. He also appreciates how you don’t beat around the bush and how frank you are.
⭑ You’re bad with machines and tech? AVENTURINE doesn’t think much of it until you wreck the fifth computer that month.. oh well, he’ll just buy you a new one. He’ll try his best to teach you and help you improve and fix your machinery clumsiness, but he’ll also tease you and joke about it.
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"Tea is ready, now it's time for a short rest."
"Alright, just let me finish the last paper in this file and I’ll be right there. I have some new news about [+] from the genius society~"
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⭑ The general of the Luofu attending your performances instead of working? More likely than you think! You various tricks and acts are a nice pass-time when he doesn’t feel like completing the mountain of paperwork stacked up on his desk. While you aren’t the most expressive person which may lead to some acts come off as dull, he finds amusement in how your personality contradicts your occupation.
⭑ A bit concerned when he spots you walking around the large ship without any supervision on multiple occasions, but it’s not his place to ask and you don’t look distressed or anything (not that you ever do.) However, he’ll order some cloud knights to keep a close eye on you just in case anyone were to try anything.
⭑ JING YUAN found out about your swordsmanship skills from Yanqing. It was when the young boy had returned from his training, utterly exhausted with his hair looking like had been attacked by a wind storm, that he is told about the teen with the feline features has some impressive swordsmanship.
⭑ That’s when his interest was piqued and he tries to interact with you. After performances he’ll give you some praise and ask how you’re doing. This, of course, makes you a bit nervous as this is the general of the luofu and here he his talking to you like you’re his kid,, so you do what you do best and hit him with one of your outlandish responses that makes him pause.
⭑ JING YUAN laughs thinking you’re pulling off one of your acts, but then you do it again and again and by the end of the interaction you have successfully made the general question if his age was getting to him.
⭑ Still, he will continue to praise you and ask how your day is after every performance, sometimes offering a game of starchess if you’re not too busy. His consistency is what gets you to trust him as he shows no ill-intent, especially after you grow closer to Yanqing behind the scenes as the boy constantly spars with you.
⭑ He doesn’t mind how frank and straightforward you can be. Like Aventurine, he’s worked with many different people and appreciates it. Your pokerface is also something he’ll praise you for as it’s very useful in combat and when playing against him.
⭑ When you open up about your past, JING YUAN can’t help the seed of anger that has been planted in him, and the more you share, the more that anger grows. He knows this world is cruel, but he had secretly hoped that it had been kinder to you. His relief is very evident on his features when you tell him that the man hadn’t been able to do anything relating to your body.
⭑ Will issue an order to a small group of cloud knights to find the man who had dared to put you through such a horrible experience. They won’t be the one to use him as a training target, however. That is for JING YUAN to enjoy. Oh, don’t mind him. Something important came up. Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon. You just enjoy your tea and sweets.
⭑ Speaking of tea and sweets, JING YUAN will always be down for tea time with youHe’ll try to clear at least a nice period in the afternoon to dedicate it to tea time with you. It becomes a tea party as Yanqing join you both sometimes. Takes tea time very seriously and will pause whatever he’s doing to attend. Clock strikes tea time? He’s leaving mid-conversation.
⭑ Cat naps!! It’s a big pile of you, him, mimi, and sometimes Yanqing, all curled up together and slumbering peacefully under the warm sun. He’ll use the excuse of keeping an eye on you when you’re napping just so he can nap as well. He indulges your cat instincts / traits a lot (sometimes you think he’s secretly a cat, too.)
⭑ Finds the fact that you’re very clumsy with machines very funny but also surprising. You’re so skilled with your blade and you perform such intricate acts and tricks that take years go master yet you struggle using a vacuum?? It’s a pretty bad case especially because the luofu is very mechanical-machinery reliant, so if anything randomly breaks, JING YUAN will just sigh as he knows it’s most likely you.
⭑ He won’t always be there to do the talking for you, but he’ll do his best. Plus, not many people will chat with you when the general is around. They’d either be too intimidated or just think it’s not in their place. If you ever wish to avoid social interaction, just stick next to him.
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"Animals can also express their feelings. If you listen carefully, you can tell what state they are in. For a kitty, 'Meow~' means they are much happier than 'Meow meow meow!', and in that situation, you can pet them as much as you want and they won't run away."
"Hmm… is that so? Well, mimi makes more of a 'Meow… meow meow meow!' noise when I pet her. What emotion does that convey?"
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⭑ This man does not interact with anyone, so how you two became close is still a mystery to the other stellaron hunters. Still, it’s clear that you both have some sort of bond that’s inseparable.
⭑ Missions with the both of you is just comfortable silence. The two of you are like the social outcasts of any setting. Well, at least the missions are completed swiftly. Most of the time, the third person of the mission doesn’t even have to do anything in the combat department. You both just slice and dice.
⭑ There is no doing the talking for each other because nobody talks to you both, anyways. People are too intimidated to talk to you both with how doll-esque you seem and how scary he is. You both are social interaction repellents and it can be a bit annoying for some, but people like Silver Wolf love it.
⭑ You both bond over not being the best with technology and machinery. You both never rarely use your phones and therefore are victims of having your phones used by other people. You both really couldn’t care less.
⭑ BLADE will watch your performances whenever he isn’t busy with missions. If you want him to help you, it’ll take a bit of convincing, especially if it involves you being in enclosures like being in a glass box with water or something. During dangerous tricks like those he’s very focused so nothing bad happens. Would prefer if he was the one at risk instead of you,,,
⭑ If you want to spar with him, he’ll be hesitant. Yes, you’re good with your sword, but he’s much much more skilled and he’s worried he’ll accidentally hurt you. He’l mentor you, however. Teaching is fine, but sparring is a big nono.
⭑ Doesn’t really care much for your feline features. BLADE has seen a lot of hybrids in his time so yours are not a shocker. He’ll be considerate of any boundaries and will make sure people don’t touch your ears or tail of course, but he won’t treat you any differently than any other person.
⭑ Will drink tea with you occasionally but he won’t eat the sweet treats. Likes tea himself, so he’ll enjoy your little tea times. He’ll bring back new types of teas you have yet to try during missions. If he’s going back to the planet or if it’s nearby and you liked a specific type, he’ll buy it again in larger portions so you can drink as much as you want.
⭑ Opening up to him is like talking to a wall. He looks stoic as always on the outside but trust that on the inside he has already thought of over 100 ways to make that man’s life a living hell. Like Jing Yuan, he knows the world is cruel. He will simply be crueler. Doesn’t take long for him to find the man who had bought you, and that day Blade’s bounty is soaring with how big the increase is.
⭑ Not the best with comforting others but if you’re having a bad day because of the memories or feel icky or something BLADE will make sure everyone gives you space and lets you have your you time. Will prepare tea and a snack for you, too.
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"I used to think that the golden sun and dark shadows of the night could never understand one another. But in you, I see a kind of strange complexity that has needlessly piqued my curiosity..."
"…mmn.."
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⭑ Another one that attends your shows! The news of a rising feline-featured performed piqued his interest, and so on opening night for your first show he could be seen seated in the spectator seats up top.
⭑ Really enjoys how your stoic demeanor balances your dramatic acts. While he knows your lack of enthusiasm isn’t the most encouraging for people to return or interact, he appreciates how different it is from the other over the top performers that litter penacony. SUNDAY soon becomes a regular at your shows.
⭑ It was you who came up to him first. You simply wanted to thank him for his consistent attendance and constant support, but he soon swept you int conversation and no matter how many odd and bizarre responses you gave him, he always managed to adjust to keep the conversation going. You cannot win with him.
⭑ These back-stage / after-show conversations soon become almost as frequent as his attendance to your performances. Also, his frequent attendance does not go unnoticed and when news of the head of the oak family being seen during almost every performance goes viral your popularity skyrockets.
⭑ Have you ever thought of security work as a side-occupation? It was when SUNDAY was escorting you to call a taxi that he saw your swordsmanship in action. Your theatre borders some dangerous territory, but memes were usually taken care of. He now knew who dealt with him as he watched you obliterate the ones that appeared. It reassures him knowing that you can take care of yourself.
⭑ Everyone in his residence knows how serious tea time is. Servants are rushing around in the kitchens trying to prepare the perfect sweets and snacks. To prepare the tea just the way you both like it, hot enough for SUNDAY but cool enough for you. The poor servants’ stress levels are always through the roof when it’s tea time preparation, and you are blissfully unaware of it all. By the time you’re in sunday’s office or lounge, everything has already been prepared.
⭑ Just like you are intrigued by SUNDAY’s halovian features, he is intrigued by your feline features. When you both are close enough, he’ll let you preen his wings and you’ll let him groom your ears and tail. He’s much more fussy with you, however. The second he spots a stray strand of fur in his office, he’s demanding your presence so he can get rid of the rest of the loose fur. He’ll get even more fussy before your performances and will always do last-minute checks before you’re out on stage.
⭑ Another one that appreciates your honesty and how you always cut straight to the point. Can always rely on you to tell him what he needs when he needs it. Also, your attention to detail is very useful and sometimes he’ll ask of you to focus on certain people during a show and report back to him.
⭑ The second you begin to open up about your past, SUNDAY is right beside you reassuring you to take it slow especially when you tell him about the man you were sold to. He’s pissed, rightfully so, but during the moment he’s supportive and makes sure to make it very clear that you are not anything negative you say about yourself should you do so.
⭑ SUNDAY is very good at interrogations, and with THEIR ability he’ll know if that wretched scum lies to him. There is no justifying, there is no 'the past is past' — there is no redemption. Once the man admits all he has done, he will be rid of. Vanished off the face of the cosmos. Nobody will know anything about him.
⭑ He’ll help you practice for performances, but he won’t go up on stage with you. He’d rather watch from afar as he doesn’t want to steal the spotlight from you. Your show nights are all about you, and he’ll make sure of it. There will be no disturbances and no casualties.
⭑ Funds all of your performances. Buys you any and all equipment you want and need. Want to expand your theatre? Done and without any charge. SUNDAY is your number one supporter and defender !!
⭑ He doesn’t mind doing the talking for you, but he’ll try and encourage you to talk for yourself. It would do you good to indulge in some small talk and conversation every once in a while! But if you insist you don’t want to and just want to be left alone without conversation, he’ll understand and drop it.
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"After the sun goes down, the desires hidden in people's hearts will rise to the surface... I mean— evening shows are spectacular. Should I reserve a ticket for you?"
"Ahaha, yes, please do reserve a ticket."
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⭑ Was creeped out the moment he met you. You were so still and expressionless that he thought you were a doll until you suddenly rushed forward and beat ass. If he had a heart it would’ve definitely stopped.
⭑ BOOTHILL couldn’t deny your swordsmanship was praiseworthy, however. Your agility, your sharp cuts, everything about it was impressive for someone your age. He tried to praise you but you gave him that stoic look and blurted out the most random sentence he’s heard and walked away leaving him dazed.
⭑ It doesn’t matter if your shows are expensive or not, BOOTHILL WILL get himself a ticket just to be able to figure out what it is with you. Also, because the idea of your dull expressionless self doing magic tricks had him doubling over in laughter. However, he was surprised at how professional you were with every act and trick.
⭑ Managed to sneak backstage and looked around for you only to find you gone. Was disappointed because he really did want to praise you for your skill— well, now skills. And maybe wanted to know who the hell trained you and how you were so good for a teenager.  Oh well, there was always the next show.
⭑ Or, there was always that same night. Saving you from some creepy men who were trying to do Aeons know what was all it took for you to glue yourself to him and use him as your meat shield. Not that BOOTHILL minded, it was kinda of in his job description and his morals to protect innocent people, especially when they were on the younger side.
⭑ He’s still a bit creeped out by how you’re so.. doll. You follow him around like a reserved duckling. And it’s not just following him around until the end of his stay — no, he literally finds you grabbing onto his jacket as he makes his way to leave to complete another bounty. There’s no getting rid of you and he’s accepted that.
⭑ He’ll definitely tease you about your feline features and behaviors. Calls you a clingy cat and will buy you cat toys as jokes. If you get upset, he’ll quickly apologize and make it up to you by taking you to your favorite seafood restaurant and letting you get whatever you want. If you don’t mind the jokes, then you’ll have a pile of cat toys that grows with each month!
⭑ Didn’t understand why you’d always stand in the corner of his mechanic’s shop when he was getting upgrades or repaired. He though it was just some teenage shyness but then one night he watched you blow up a literal vacuum. Terrified of you messing with his wires while he’s asleep charging. He tried to help, but gave up and backed away when you proceeded to fry your phone because it overheated.
⭑ Finds it absolutely hilarious when you’re interacting with people. Whether it’s your brutal honesty when talking to others or just one of your flabbergasting sentences to get them to leave you alone, it’s all comedic gold to him. Until it’s targeted at him,,, then uhm,,, yeah,,, okay maybe it’s a bit funny but still,,,,,
⭑ BOOTHILL knows he can come off as intimidating, and he’ll use it to his advantage if you don’t want anyone to talk to you. If someone tries to push it, they’ll have a nice revolver in their face and a protective cyborg ready to shoot at any moment should they push it even more.
⭑ When you open up to him about your past, all he can feel is rage — so much so that his internal fans are whirring to cool him down. He immediately asks you if you remember his name, his appearance, anything. He’ll also comfort you if you feel bad or feel like it’s your fault, which it definitely isn’t.
⭑ Oh sorry, he just got a new bounty you can’t go on. It’s just too dangerous! Don’t worry, you stay and spend all his money like some spoiled teen if you want. He’ll be back soon, you just relax and have a little you time!!
⭑ Would love to take part in your performances. He’s cautious if he’s on stage, however, and will probably use a disguise so nobody notices him since he is a wanted man, after all. He doesn’t want to risk your safety because of his status. He has yet to find out you also have a rising bounty on your head because you’ve been spotted numerous times with him.
⭑ BOOTHILL doesn’t mind your little tea time as long as it doesn’t get in the way of important bounties and dangerous missions. Even if it does, he’ll just tell you to maybe change your schedule? He’ll take you to a nice tea shop to make up for it but please focus on the bounty so it can be over with and you’ll be safe,,,
⭑ Really wants to know how you do that teacup card trick,,,
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"I'm not accustomed to expressing myself, but I consider myself a good listener. If you have any troubles, tell me. I'll guard your secrets."
"I don’t doubt ya, kid."
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⭑ DAN HENG initially did not expect you to trust anyone quickly when you first joined the express. It takes one to know one, but he can tell rather quickly that you were cautious of everyone despite your poker face. He doesn’t talk too much with you, not that he gets the chance as you give your weird replies to everyone who tries to talk to you.
⭑ He doesn’t realize that you inviting him for tea time in your room is a privilege only he has until March complains about your 'favoritism'. He’ll ask you about it and you’ll confirm it. He won’t ask why but it’s nice to know you trust him more than anyone else.
⭑ You both are social outcasts 2.0. He’ll do most of the talking for you both, but if anyone else from the crew is present, especially March, then they’ll do the talking for you both. He’s also the only one to understand your random response and to this day nobody knows how he does it.
⭑ Just like he needs to tend to his vidyadhara traits, you need to tend to your feline ones. Doesn’t mind if you randomly start shedding but will get a bit bothered if you leave your shedded fur around in the archives. If it gets to much he’ll sit you down and comb through your tail and ears’ fur himself. Also, if you’re comfortable with it, please put in some data about your avatism in the archives.
⭑ DAN HENG doesn’t seem all that enthusiastic during your performances, but he does enjoy them. He’ll clap and give some words of encouragement, but he’s not full on beaming. He just doesn’t know how to properly show his support physically so he’ll show it with praise and giving you trinkets and things he thinks you would or could use.
⭑ Also doesn’t mind helping you with acts and performances, and it’s funny how the both of you have this deadpan poker face while doing the most dramatic over the top jaw dropping trick. You both have a bit of a reputation on some planets that you’ve publicly performed during free time on missions,,
⭑ DAN HENG, like Blade, isn’t the best at comforting people — he can barely comfort himself. He’s a bit emotionally awkward. Still, he’ll try his best to comfort you as you open up to him about your past. He’s upset, but never at you. He’ll pat your back comfortingly or let you hug him.
⭑ If there’s ever a mission where he lays eyes on that man should he still be alive, DAN HENG will act on your behalf. He just needs to keep his skills sharp, that’s all. WORLD CLEANSING DRAGON—
⭑ If you have nightmares, you’re always free to sleep next to him in the archives. He knows how bad nightmares can be as someone who has suffered from them, and if you get embarrassed because you think it’s childish due to your age, he’ll pretend to still be asleep when you enter his room late to snuggle next to him.
⭑ Your clumsiness with technology and machinery genuinely concerns him. He’ll try to keep as little tech in your room as possible and will supervise you whenever you do literally anything with objects of the sort so you don’t hurt yourself or anyone around.
⭑ There’s a lot of things DAN HENG doesn’t realize he’s doing unless someone points it out. How he orders dishes that have some fish in them so he can give them to you, how he always makes sure your tea is cool enough for your sensitive tongue, how he know when you’re upset or not just from your ears.
⭑ Doesn’t mind sparring with you, but he’ll go easy on you. If you want him to mentor you, he’ll take it very seriously. He wants to make sure that you’ll be able to defend yourself should anything happen. Yes, he knows your swordsmanship is impressive for your age, but he also knows that impressive does not equal safety every time. He may be a bit strict, but it’s for your wellbeing so please don’t get upset.
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"Go to sleep, I still have some loose ends to tie up from work today... I still have to fix the vacuum cleaner I broke.."
"That’s the third one this month.."
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⭑ Was a bit surprised when he entered his lecture to find a feline-featured teenager sitting front row staring at him with a dead look. Was a bit creeped out, but whatever. He was fully expecting you to drop out after the first class.
⭑ Was surprised once again when you showed up for the next lecture. And the one after and after and after. Not to mention you were diligent and observant. You noticed a lot of things and after you two grew close, he’s a bit intimidated by how much you know and notice.
⭑ Some of the other students hate you for it bcs you can easily snitch on them if he ever asked you to. They can never say anything about it because you either ignore them or VERITAS steps in and scolds them.
⭑ You’re like a therapy cat for him but not in a weird way. If you let him, VERITAS will study your case of avatism. With how cat-like you behave, he’ll do some tests like scratching your ears and petting you. Would also see your reaction to cat toys. Now, why do I say therapy cat? Because your purring calms him down always. Also you make him feel like a cat dad.
⭑ He’ll get annoyed if you freely shed all around. Will scold you every time and then expect you to groom yourself properly. If you don’t he’ll get all huffy and frustrated as he does it himself but he really doesn’t mind. He just puts up an act.
⭑ You both are a scary duo. Some people think you’ve gotten your frank and brutal tongue from VERITAS, but you were like that since young. Still, many firmly believe you got it from him. You needn’t worry about unecessary conversation — people are too scared either you or him will rip them a new one for even looking at you. (exaggeration)
⭑ And while many are intimidated and scared of you, getting easily offended at your lack of sugarcoated words, VERITAS appreciates how blunt you can be. Will tell other people to be like you and doesn’t care if they get offended LMFAO
⭑ Probably the one on this list that’s the biggest enjoyer of tea time. You’ll be working on your assignments and be’ll be grading others’ assignments while enjoying sweet snacks and tea. Either that, you both sit in comfortable silence, or you’re dropping all the latest gossip you’ve heard and things you’ve noticed about your classmates that he hasn’t.
⭑ Contrary to the popular belief of his students, VERITAS finds himself enjoying your magic tricks and performances. It takes skill to do what you do, and he has to give credit where it’s due. He won’t really help during your acts, but he’ll give his input and ideas on how to improve like a better angle or quicker actions.
⭑ Also, VERITAS would encourage you to better cultivate your swordsmanship! I’d like to think he has connections, so he’ll find you someone if you want a mentor. If not, then that’s fine too. He’ll remind you everyday to go train for at least an hour. He won’t force you if you don’t feel like it, of course. As long as you’re with him, he’ll be able to protect you anyways.
⭑ Also one of the not-so-good comforters on the list when you open up about your past. So instead, he’ll brutally degrade the man you were sold to until you feel better. He’s trying his best, please understand that. He’ll give you an awkward pet to the head to top it all off.
⭑ I feel like VERITAS wouldn’t do anything to the man physically. Instead, he’ll care for your skills and enhance them until you’re known across the cosmos. Be it as a scholar, a sword fighter, a performer, or something else. Because in his eyes, that’s the best revenge.
⭑ Should that man still be alive, he will see that the one he saw as nothing but a toy to use is now one of the brightest stars in the cosmos, known all throughout while he is rotting away like the scum bastard he is.
⭑ Now, VERITAS is very prideful with his favorite and best student and he supports you, but,,,, but what is this,,,,, how are you so horrible with technology and machinery???? Were you born yesterday??
⭑ Like Dan Heng, he’ll supervise you whenever you’re using anything that has tech and/or machinery in it. Almost got a heart attack when he saw you tinkering with something that piqued your interest on Herta’s space station — VERITAS genuinely thought you’d bring the end of the station by blowing it up.
⭑ Would implement things in divergent universe (domain based off of tea time, occurrence, etc.) that relates to you and he wouldn’t even realize it until Screwllum points it out to which he denies.
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"Making tea looks simple on the surface, but it is actually quite complex. The quality of the tea leaves, the temperature of the water, the number of times to add water... Only when every variable is properly controlled can tea of the purest taste be brewed. Would you like a cup?"
"You truly are passionate in the art of tea making, hm? But, yes, I would like a cup."
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