#*✧ ╾ ‘ AN ANGEL’S WORK IS NEVER DONE ’ // RECALL. ∗
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Run, Run Far Angel
Note || I am obligated as a fanfic author to write this, sue me. I got attached to DogDay, and he deserved better in Chapter 3.
WC || 2,070
<(You are here)><(sequel part)>
Sypnosis || An unlikely shortcoming of a friendly entity, or, You get a new friend in spite of this hellish factory.
The noise that had buzzed in the far reaches in the depths of your ears had annoyed you to no end, insistent to remain with you. So many times over had your guilt marred your sense of peace, your sense of futility. Whatever control you felt you had in your life was completely gone the moment you had come back to the accursed place known as Playtime Co. Toy Factory. So many unruly things had gone here, things done and said that left you chuckling–few that had left you with regrets.
Regrets that had stayed with you for well over ten years, since your co-workers had disappeared. You always had a sinking feeling you knew well what had happened to the last of them, your friends and those that you had come to consider family.
Then you fell into Playcare, a place once filled with laughter and joy, something of which was indescribable. To know the children here and being able to hear such joyful playing and sometimes the odd cry, it was fulfilling, now the whole Factory–every floor there was to know–was devoid of the very same life you’ve come to know and love all those years ago.
Now the only thing that had tormented your mind, as it always had been since you first arrived, was your fight or flight. Instinctive you were, but you hated every minute of having to run and hide away from the monster that had presided reign over their domain, on of which the very one you had to be stuck with was-
“Catnap?” You muttered, thumbing the scarred fur that was blotched with ashy spots, as if it were burned by fire.
The small recreational stuffed animal looked so adorable for the most part, yet it disturbed you greatly, guilt was predominant in mind and body. In all of your years you had remembered working at the Factory you don't ever recall the name of Catnap, the creepy elongated mouth had stood out to you the most.
He was hunting you, toying with you for sport. You couldn’t really understand why he hadn’t just gunned you for killing you at a moment's notice, though you felt a breath of relief that you could buy yourself time.
Supposedly some of this relief is partial to the fact that this Ollie kid was guiding you on where to go, with how dark this place was is absurd to you–so the guidance was appreciated. A voice had finally snapped you out of your ever consuming thoughts, it was terribly the truth.
“Hey are you alright? Just press that button and you’ll be through in no time! The small critters cant seem to get you from up there so you should be alright.” Ollie, yes Ollie that is the kids name. Who is this strange person anyway?
Unfortunately you weren’t in a position to worry about that right now, you simply pressed the button with the help of your grabpack. Trying to remember all the hands you had now with you was troublesome, but you manage.
‘I suppose.’ You wonder if there is anyone in this place that won’t actively be out for your head, truth be told.
Maybe that was a miracle in mind, as you walked through the desolate rubble the air seemed to desaturate, a mist once permeated with dread and the iron taste of blood seemed to float away as you came across a surprising display. Gruesome but something nobody should have to see or experience.
It seemed to be DogDay, you could've sworn coming across a cardboard cutout of the very same character earlier.
He seemed to be so.. Sad.
“You…you’re Poppy’s angel. Come to save us. Nothing left to save, not here…You’re in CatNap’s home, angel. Their home.” His voice was broken, forlorn, vocal cords riddled with experience he never wanted to relive again. You felt saddened on his behalf, no doubt the pain he is feeling right now is tremendous. For a moment, silence had filled the comfortable atmosphere rendering you with a small pit of anxiety balling within your gut.
Still you feel as if you had to speak, but you allow Dogday to have his part, that much you could try to do for him.
DogDay’s head lolled about as if he were a ragdoll, the effort to make movement was extraneous. “A million pairs of eyes are on you now. Watching, waiting, hungry. They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit - fill what feels empty inside themselves.” Those words sparked an ire of curiosity inside your trodden heart, you wanted to help him now.
You needed help, especially answers too. He was in pain, and you wanted to help him, so to ease your guilty conscience a little; hopefully in the process of gaining a friend at the same time. “Catnap.. Just, I don’t understand him.” DogDay raised his head, looking at you wistfully as if he had expected the aforementioned cat to be brought up.
DogDay winced as he moved, each little rattle sending painful vibrations throughout his body–the phantom legs hadn’t brought any peace to him whatsoever.
“That thing…CatNap. The Prototype is his God, and this is what he does to heretics.” His words carried an aura of ominous spiels, as if you were to heed this warning. “These little toys follow CatNap to avoid that very fate- and in return, they are fed.”
In their place, you would take measures to avoid such a fate too if you would. To a point, you could sympathize with the small toys, not being able to do anything and the teetering possibility of being killed always hanging over your head. Knowing that alone is unfathomably terrifying.
“Would explain why they were hunting me previously..” You murmur, now tucking that thought to the depths of your mind. Still you wanted to hear out DogDay, for he knew better of what had gone on here then you did. His head had shagged, fur ruffled and dangling about as he had squirmed slightly.
“We tried to fight it, the Prototype’s control. I’m…the last of the Smiling Critters.” His tune was mournful, his friends really had been killed right before his very eyes. Catnap’s gas, you remember it well enough.
You had to take a moment – articulate your words. You were completely filled to the brim with anxiety and alert, you remind yourself to not let down your guard in spite of being with someone who has no intention of wanting to kill you. “You had tried to escape, and he… knocked you out with his gas?”
DogDay’s brows creased, confirming your answer. You felt so terrible for him, causing you to be firmly set on a decision.
You were helping him get out of here, in no way shape or form did you feel he should be left behind in shambles like this. “This is probably going to sound, insane. But I’m gonna help you get outta here.” Dogday perked up at this, nodding his head no.
He certainly didn’t want you to die, especially not on his account.
“Angel that is not wise! I will slow you down.” He persists, “Listen to me, you need to get out of this place. You need to live. You and Poppy can fix this, end this madness, the torment–” You didn’t want him to change your mind, so as immediate as you were, You desperately grabbed at his arms.
Quickly and surely enough the small critter toys had began crawling toward DogDay, you certainly would not put up with that. You fired a flare gun at the small critters, as much as you could so you could buy time to get DogDay out of his chains.
It seemed Dogday had sensed your determination to want to help him in spite of his warings, even with how much he had tried to convince you to leave. “You are doing well Angel, keep them away from me.. I will do my best to free myself of these.” His voice felt strained, cut off with a cough as he wriggled free–even if every brittle bone in his body had begged him to just lay there and rest.
You thanked him silently, continuing to work away at the critters who were highly determined in their goal to possess DogDay and resume their chase to kill you. “I am free! Quickly now Angel, quickly.” He ushered you forward to run right away, you picked him up as soon as he had done so and heaved him over your shoulders with a heavy breath as a display of your efforts. To say he was surprised at your willful strength was an understatement, he silently applauded you for your strength to keep moving.
Though, it hadn’t removed any of his worry for you as you continued to run forward, your muscles straining to keep up with your mind. From what he can understand of humans anyway, you were exhausted, though he felt it wasn’t right to speak out on it anyway–safety first before talking.
“Almost there, Angel.. You just need to get to that elevator over there!” He jabbed his finger in the direction you needed to go, and you went on instinct with his direction. Your muscles ached and burned, but you could rest as soon as you reached the elevator, you couldn’t risk DogDay being left behind helpless with the small critters.
Speaking of which, they were still chasing you and your new companion. You wished they stopped, but you had considered an aforementioned thought, they only do this to ensure their fate wasn’t like his. Since then this has wildly changed.
You were close to the edge.
Then, you leaped, everything seemed to slow down. DogDay held on tightly, hands wrapped around your neck secured tight, to you it seemed comforting in the depths of your sudden despair.
You dropped right onto the metal plate, which luckily had railing. The door shut right behind you as DogDay had quickly made action to press the button to start up the elevator nor long after you had succeeded in jumping to the elevator. He slumped with a sigh, something you could very much agree with, sitting down with a thump following in your wake.
Truth be told, you weren’t sure of how much more you could take much more of this nightmare. You may just as well be in a very long dream, and you were just actually sleeping at home, but no way however as the exhaustion had finally settled into your bones.
Weary bones creaked about as DogDay made an effort to check over your slumped body, wanting to ensure you were not injured anywhere before he spoke, “Whatever questions you have..” He paused for a moment as if he were considering his words, something of which seemed to happen to a lot of people and toys alike in this Factory. “I will answer, rest for now first.”
DogDay was being his typical self, always so worried over someone else before considering his own health. His own legs being severed must be a great deal of pain, you wanted to ask him to rest too. Yet, you were too tired to respond, only nodding curtly as sleep had stolen you away from your awakened consciousness.
A genuine smile seems to relax DogDay’s expression, you sorely needed rest. He would help you get that rest, things to talk about and things to face would come later. “You have done impossible things, you have run far. Thank you.” He quietly spoke, curling up to cuddle you.
His head laid to rest on the crown of your head, hands and arms elongating ever so slightly to surround you in his warmth. DogDay was a leader, a friend, but he was also a good napping buddy. That much was certainly no lie to be told.
Silence seemed to fill his ears now, sleep was creeping up to DogDay as well. Ah, he cannot sleep right now. You were in his care and vulnerable, especially considering you had gone through the trouble of freeing him.
To those tormented, the madness had enraged man and toy, you were their saving graces. Someone they could get behind, without the utmost support where would you be now?
“Night has fallen, but for you I will do my absolute best to help you, Angel.”
#poppy playtime#dogday#dogday poppy playtime#x reader#purely platonic#I like how he calls the player angel#it’s cute :D
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#monsieur neuvillette’s relationship headcanons
NOTES. finally a work after months. i missed this, tbh. but hey, here’s my new husband for you. might also have a part 2 of this i feel like i haven’t written everything yet
WARNING. real identity spoilers (nothing too explicit from the current archon quest i haven’t even done it yet oops)
NEUVILLETTE
(Before)
Before the relationship began, it took a long while for him to truly process what he had been feeling towards you—to be frank, he even thought he was getting sick (which was impossible. He never got sick.), though that thought comes to an end the moment he realizes that the effects only happen when he is around you. Only you.
He had heard of love before. Had seen love. Had read about love. Not just the platonic or familial ones, but also romance and more. And yet, he does not understand them, simply because he considers them as something someone like him would not eventually feel.
And yet, it all changed when he first saw you. Curiosity turns to admiration, and admiration turns to anxiety—which is never good; the sweating on his hands and the back of his neck, and the pressure on his chest whenever your presence comes.
He was only reminded of the term romance when he consulted Sigewinne about it.
“Does it only happen around a certain person, Monsieur?” “Monsieur, I think you are simply in love,” she says. “Humans do tend to have the same symptoms but it does not necessarily mean you are sick. It appears to me that you feel the same as well. Does their presence give you happiness?”
He did not even need to ponder over his answer. What he does ponder over is how he should deal with it. The evidence is overwhelming, and there is only one verdict. And yet, where does this lead to?
Contrary to popular belief, he will confess as soon as he is sure of his feelings. He is an honest and honorable man. He would confess his feelings if he could, but it did take some time knowing how busy his schedule was.
The only thing that probably was able to push him to go through was the Melusines. It took them weeks to have him clear his schedule up for a nice little dinner date that they had planned and suggested to the Monsieur.
“Recently, I have come to realize that I have developed a romantic interest with you, Y/n.”
“I do not intend to put pressure on you. I shall accept whatever judgment you make. I do not wish for you to change how you treat me in any way.”
“If you may… I can only ask to indulge in this meal with you for tonight. Your company eases me greatly.”
Brutally honest. It may even drive you crazy how this all seems so easy on him.
But in reality, his palms were sweating underneath his gloves and the slightly cool sensation of the utensils as he blurts out his intentions for setting up such an occasion. His heart was pounding but he could not process whether this was about how you looked especially good tonight or his nervousness with finally confessing his feelings for you.
Or maybe both. Either way, all evidence of such leads to only one thing—you.
Bonus; I do think he’ll reveal who he is first before he gets into a relationship with you but that really depends on how observant you are.
(During)
It was a surprise to him, at the very least, how he had managed to keep you as his lover despite what he lacks. He knew how he was not well-versed with “feelings” per se (just in his mind), but you, the angel that you’ve always been, chose to be with him.
The sudden change did not occur to him much, actually. But he did notice how much his mind lingers to you more often than not, and how he will end up recalling how you are now his one and only lover.
It takes time for him to adjust, but it all started with frequent conversations (much more than before), then sending flowers to your place every other day (constantly), though most of the time they’re delivered by someone else, knowing how busy he is as the Chief Justice.
Or when he started to first brush his gloved fingers to yours.
When he does something, it will be constant. (Maybe this also comes from being responsible and disciplined as shown by being the Chief Justice). All the things that he did before, he still does them now—unless you’ve told him no, of course.
He is definitely a man of his honor!!
And would always ask for your permission first before he touches your hand, or holds them, or hugs you, or kisses you.
He does like pampering and showering you with “offerings” though.
Stuff like buying your favorite flowers or trinkets once or twice a week, making sure you have enough supply of the best water out there. And even with how he always has an umbrella or parasol for you (ones he got ever since you got together; one in his office, one that’s foldable for him to carry under his coat, and one he gave to you for every time you leave the house.
Through the course of the relationship, he learned about the beauty of life, which is how he sometimes brings you flowers despite its short life. However, he still secretly prefers giving you trinkets for your hoard of gifts from him, mostly because it symbolizes his everlasting love for you. (He’s very romantic like that, even if he does not know he is)
He will also introduce every single Melusine in Fontaine. At first, it may surprise you how he knows all of their names, but it will surprise you even more the moment you realize you could do the same. If you do, he’ll love you even more (which he thought was impossible at first as he knew he already loves you very much).
The Melusines will treat you as their other parent the moment it is known amongst all of them that you’re his lover. Sigewinne, for one, would always give you a personalized gift. She would also always send you letters to ask how you are and probably be quite excited whenever you accept an invitation for a cup of tea.
Monsieur Neuvillete is not jealous, but he is possessive and territorial. It’s a dragon instinct, forgive him.
It also comes with being protective. Though he’s not feral, he would make sure to always shield you away from any harm, or anything that might take you away.
One time, he had to deal with a bunch of… shameless individuals who had tried to make a move on you, and though he has great trust on you, he cannot help but have the same self-deprecating voices in the back of his mind.
Though instinctively, he finds himself buying you trinkets or flowers again.
“Hm? You just gave me one earlier, didn’t you?” You look up with a confused look but still hold that smile that stirs butterflies in his chest.
He nodded. “The flowers reminded me of you, mon amour. I could not help but feel the urge to give it to you.”
It does not stop him from giving you offerings.
Of course, he cannot just give up on you. The ruling of whoever deserves your love and affection the most. Of course, he is at an advantage knowing that he’s already your lover.
“Is there something wrong?” You looked up to him, hearing the pitter patter of the rain outside through the taps on the windows. You had your hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing them with your palms.
“It’s nothing, mon cœur, no need to worry.” He flashes you a reassuring smile, and yet, at the back of his mind, he wondered how you could have thought to check on him. Is it perhaps the gloominess in the atmosphere?
You frown as you look at him intently, “There are times when you’d shower me gifts with a saddened look on you. I’m worried, is all.”
He stares at you then. Ah, so you noticed, he thought.
He chuckles as he shakes his head and stands right next to you. “May I?” He opens his arms and you nod and dive right into his chest. He enclosed you into an embrace, relishing the feeling of your warmth.
He kisses your forehead then. “Allow me to bask in your presence for a while.”
For short, one of the best. Definitely a 100/10.
#genshin x reader#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x you#genshin x you#genshin neuvillette#genshin headcanons#genshin fluff
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taking care
summary: on thursdays you and joel have a drink, but this time poor old joel is in need of a friend and makes a confession, which brings you closer than ever before.
pairing: joel miller x afab!reader
word count: 8,1k
warning: angst, alcohol consumption, talk of sad bad memories ;(joel tells you about everything that went down at the firefly hospital; killing-spree, lying to ellie, etc.), self-l oathing, crying joel, mutual pining, friends to lovers bro, vulgar language, some domestic bliss, friends to lovers trope!!! mdni 18+: mentions of masturbation and fantasizing about friends, oral (female receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, praise kink, pet names. let me know if i missed anything! <3<3
You found it ironic how you had longed for the sun's blazing rays to warm your body all winter when summer had finally reached Jackson and now you were whining and moaning because it felt like you were being fucking boiled alive.
The sweat tickled down your skin, perspiration spread in your hairline, threatening to bunch into droplets and fall from your nose and brow. Joel felt himself tense up at the sight. Dressed in washed denim shorts, a t-shirt, and worn cowboy boots—it was a sight to behold. You looked like an angel to a southern man, and Joel had to clear his throat to make sure his voice wouldn't fail him.
"Still goin' at it? It's Milton's job to take care 'o the horses, y'know."
Chuckling, you shook your head and dusted your shorts as you stood. Running a hand over your horse's mane, you gave Joel a smirk. "You know she don't like nobody but me."
He chuckled. Joel had noticed that the more time you had spent with him, the more his own southern drawl began to echo in your own voice. Not much, not enough for other people to notice, he doubted you yourself even did, but Joel noticed—and every time he got a taste of that sweet honeyed punctuation, his stomach practically somersaulted.
Today, you hadn't been on patrol together, as you had the morning call and he had the evening call. You knew he'd just gotten back. Typically he would shower after duty, but today he hadn't and you knew him well enough to know why.
"Had a rough run?"
Joel huffed in response, forcing himself to pry his eyes off of you for a second. He had never seen you in this little clothes before and was finding it quite difficult not to give you a one-over when you had turned to him completely.
You had tied your flannel around your waist, leaving your arms bare for the sun to tan and it was then he couldn't help himself. Your cleavage was revealed in the little top you wore, droplets of sweat glistening on your skin as they trailed—
Joel cleared his throat once again, "ya up for a nightcap?"
A sly smirk landed on your lips.
Leading your horse May back into the stables, you walked with Joel to his house, to share a drink or two as you did every so often. You sensed a sort of tradition forming, recalling you had done this exact play every Thursday for the past few months. Five out of seven days a week you patrolled together. On Mondays when you were both off duty you played pool. On two out of seven days, you were in no way obliged to see one another and yet, here you were, making it a tradition—ensuring that you would not go as long as 24 hours without keeping each other company.
You wanted to ask about the day he had had but decided against it and settled on asking how Ellie was doing instead. Having come to know Joel quite well, you understood he would rather let work-related matters stay work-related and it seemed fitting to veer your attention at Ellie as you recalled Joel saying she was doing good at school. You should've talked about the weather. The weather was a safe bet.
"S'it turns out she didn't even go—keeps holdin' out on me," Joel worried, clearly contemplating what might be on Ellie's mind.
Some weeks back, Joel had been thrilled to hear that Ellie was doing good in the school in Jackson, but as it turned out, she had lied to him about going. He wasn't sure where she'd run off to, and that bothered him more than the fact that she was keeping things like this from him—how could he keep her safe, if he didn't even know where she was?
It was clear Joel blamed himself for a lot of things, and though you were well aware he didn't always tell you everything just as Ellie didn't tell him everything, you never hesitated to assure him he was doing a good job. You admired the way he cared for her - it was obvious he loved her and she loved him - although you doubted they ever spoke of that. One night Joel had shared with you a portion of what Ellie had been through, and even admitted that there was a time, a brief span where Ellie had gone through hell for him and he didn't even know what she had endured back then—he blamed himself for a lot of things that happened to her, constantly reminding himself that he was not good enough, that he let her down. Joel hated that feeling, that he was failing yet another daughter and he needed to get a whole lot more of his chest, to talk to someone—to you, about what had happened before they returned to Jackson. He just never could, never knew how to begin nor how to explain why he'd done all those atrocities—what else might one call it? It was fucked up, all of it, but the situation had been so very fucked up too and he just needed someone to agree with him on that, he needed you to ensure him he had been right to make the choices that he did.
But Joel had always been good at keeping his feelings bottled up, letting them mix together over the years until an occasion allowed him to relieve some of the stress that concoction produced.
You had confronted him about it once when you had felt a small fraction of his anger—he had admitted and apologized, for it was so very unprompted he realized when he took it out on you, which led to a much more calm and collected conversation where you advised him to relieve himself of all that weight he insisted on carrying like fucking Atlas lifting the universe. While you didn't want to act like you were any better at that yourself - getting help, that is - he agreed you were right. In that moment he understood and doted the fact that you were willing to let your shoulder be one for him to cry upon if need be. Of course, he wasn't going to do that every chance given (patrolling helped a lot with his anger issues, giving him an excuse to commence violence); nevertheless, Joel felt touched to know you would be there for him.
Instead of dumbing his shitload of stress on you, he found himself going out of his way to see you outside of your communal duties, your company somehow helping in other ways. Though Joel never initiated any deep conversations with you, they happened every now and again and those nights, when he'd go to sleep, it felt as if he could rest just a bit easier.
The sun gradually went over the horizon, the blue sky melting into a nuance of lilac, bringing with it the cold and quiet air of night. This was a peace neither of you had experienced in a long time before settling down in Jackson and therefore as sacred and precious as a promise.
You helped yourself to another drink and Joel quietly watched on as you poured the liquid gold. Holding up the bottle you tipped your head to look at him, silently asking if he needed a refill.
Over the years Joel had become a man of few words and meeting you he suspected he had found his match. You only conversed freely around people you liked and enjoyed the company of, not nearly bothered enough to spare even a glare at those who didn’t deserve your time.
You decided to joke to lighten the mood and hoped you weren't overstepping. "Come on, Joel. I know you're older than me but you must've been a teenager at some point."
It made him snort and his brow jumped at the change of topic though he wasn't about to object. You adored it when he looked at you like that; the way he glared when you teased him or made him laugh. "If I was I sure don't remember."
Joel downed the rest of his drink and held out the glass. You leaned forward and poured him a couple of inches and for a second Joel slipped, forgetting his guard and manners as he watched more of your chest expose to him. He wasn't sure when his attraction had begun, but he had noticed that lately he just couldn't seem to oppress it. Joel would waste away at night, fighting the urge to let himself give in to his desires and fantasize about you as he fisted his cock—and he was strong on that part. It was hard (and in more ways than one) but he felt disrespectful even thinking of you like that. He was supposed to be your friend; and what kind of friend would he be if he was ready to betray your trust when he was feeling lonely.
He gulped.
Finally prying his eyes off of you, Joel wet his dry lips and slushed the drink around the cup.
"You're a generous bartender," he remarked sarcastically.
You laughed.
"You've got expressive eyes, you know that?"
He stopped with the rim of the glass at the tip of his lip, pausing, fearing he had been caught. The thump, thump, thump of his heart resonated in his ears.
"'S that so?" he pondered. "What're they tellin' ya?"
Joel hoped you didn't notice the way his breath hitched in his throat when you leaned back in the rocking chair with a smug smirk on your lips.
"That you were a troublemaker," you grinned. "But you never got in trouble 'cause you were so damn charming as a kid. Probably shoplifted gum or some shit."
Joel laughed. You weren't too far off; he did occasionally get into trouble and he did usually get out of it with no problem—his mom had called him the luckiest boy in the world. The memory struck a cynical thought in his mind; he might have been lucky but not enough to miss the end of the world.
Joel decided to entertain your guessing game. "I ain't ever shoplifted. Didn't have the guts for it," he tutted before taking a swig. "'F I had it would've been condoms though."
Your eyes squinted and crinkled as you bit back a cackle. Your head fell back and your chest bubbled with laughter and he knew he shouldn't have made the last comment when he felt his cock strain against the seams of his washed jeans.
"Joel Miller—scared of a lil' thievin'?" you teased, moving your boot from the porch railing to shove at his thigh.
There was that southern accent you had obtained from him again.
He masqueraded his discomfort by shoving back at your foot with a chuckle—he wasn't sure why he kept his hand on your boot though, keeping it in the place you had put it.
"I didn't have sex till I was like 24..." Joel's expression turned sour as he noticed yours did the same and sensed a bitter memory. Then you mused, trying to make light of the bitter picture that flashed in your mind: "Thought it was love. Turns out it was fear."
You shook your head as if to shake the thoughts out. You'd been through a lot since then, toughened up and become brave enough to fight for yourself, but the memory was still clear. You had vowed to never trust another man again which was why it made this blooming attraction to Joel Miller all the more difficult. The last thing you had considered when coming to Jackson was to try and build a life, and yet; here you were, having built a life with friends and found family in a prospering community with a steady ass job and bars and cafés and all that shit as if the world had never ended.
It seemed almost like you had been feigning sadness for your mien changed so abruptly it caught Joel off guard. You said with casual indifference: "How 'bout you? Ever manage to find love in this fucked up world?"
Joel wasn't sure if you were testing him. You had said he had expressive eyes and completely misread his mind—now he wondered if it was on purpose. The way you nudged him with your boot (that he was still holding onto) told him you were very aware of what you did to him.
And you noticed—of course, you noticed the way his eyes would effortlessly glide over your body, down your body whenever you moved an inch. You had noticed his attention before, but not like this. Not when it shamelessly continued when you had caught him and it made you realize you were not making stuff up in your mind.
Joel wanted you, too.
Now you just wanted him to admit it.
"Once or twice," he finally admitted though his answer gave you little to work with.
You supposed it was the question and not the answer that was the problem; there's a fine line between loving another person, caring for another person, liking a person, and enjoying their company. You had once been told that one could determine if they loved someone, romantically, in just a few minutes by looking into the other person's eyes. It made you wonder—how long would it take you? Would you find that you did in fact love Joel Miller after just 3 minutes? Or would you find that there were more cons than pros to your relationship? Perhaps you might hate him, and this attraction was spurred on by a sadistic kind of hatred and a need to put him in a vulnerable position.
No. That seemed unlikely.
When you first met him you thought he was arrogant, manipulative, and cocky.
Now that you had spent so much one-on-one time with him, you had realized he was confident, persuasive, and fearless. He seemed impossibly skeptical because he was cautious, and he appeared bossy but that was just him being self-asserted.
You couldn't possibly blame a man for being confident when the trait suited him so well. Right now, you had just hoped he was confident enough to let you know how he felt.
Suddenly you shivered. The days had become unbearably warm but the nights were equally unrelenting with the cold.
"It's getting cold."
"Y'wanna call it a night?"
"I'd rather go inside," you shrugged blatantly as if it was not a big deal. It was. Despite how long you had known Joel and how often you were in his company, you had never been beyond this porch, never stepped into the humble residence. You pressed, watching him rather intently: "S'that weird?"
Joel's fingers were intertwined in his lap, thumbs picking at each other. There was a blank yet somehow inquisitive look in his brown eyes and you couldn't tell if it was because his mind was going over what you were offering or because the whiskey had caught up to him.
He let go of his lip with a tsk and shook his head. His gaze softened, and a faint but certain smirk tugged the corner of his mouth. "Not at all."
Joel made the move to stand up and your boot found the ground below with a thud. He grasped the two glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other, then pushed the door handle with his elbow.
Inside the walls were painted a deep orange and it reminded you of curry. Though it was not a nice color, it made the room appear warm and cozy with the lights on. There was a green couch which pretty much made up the living area. A bartop separated the kitchen from the dining room and there was a small mess atop the table where you supposed Ellie had been drawing. It was only then you noticed the art decorating the house, Ellie's drawings displayed in beautiful gold frames like in a museum. It made you chuckle.
"Where's Ellie anyway?"
Joel slouched down on the couch, arms spreading around the back and you looked over just in time to catch him parting his legs, thick thighs smothering the couch cushion, looking oh so big and handsome. What a slut, you thought.
You occupied the space left beside him, pulling your legs up under your body, and thanked him as he handed you your glass. In an effort to test the waters, you let your fingers brush over his knuckles as you accepted the drink, watching him closely. He shifted a bit, but in no way trying to distance himself from you. Your knees rested against his thigh and you could've sworn he only moved his leg closer to you.
"She's with that girl Cora."
"Flemmings?"
"Yeah."
Cora Flemmings was a sweet girl, not the type you would have guessed Ellie would want to hang out with, but you guess that's where your relationship with her ended. You had realized she was quite likable early on, witty and smart, too, but that was about it. She didn't allow a lot of people to get close, and you supposed that was fair all things considered—still, you couldn't help but feel you had let her down. It was stupid, really, but being as close a friend to Joel as you were, it felt like you should know her better.
A shared a couple of more drinks, just lounging on the couch, side by side, your shoulder pressed against his. It was not unusual for Joel to be quiet even when you would go on talking about whatever came to mind, but you noticed he was being more unresponsive than normal. You knew him too well to think he was getting drowsy from the mix of the late hour and the whiskey. His mind was on something else, and again you wanted to pry, but you knew better than to do so.
To your surprise, he let you in: "Can I tell you something?"
It was a stark contrast of serious pondering compared to the mindless rambling of life in outer space, going from negative numbers to a hundred in a split second. You were caught off guard, but tilting to look at Joel instead of the ceiling, you nodded softly.
It was difficult not to notice the tension in his body, sitting close to him and all. Feeling his chest rise with labored breaths, watching his jaw clench and loosen up, only to flex again, you realized something far deeper than extraterrestrials was on his mind.
Nothing could have prepared you for the burden he was about to unload. Joel resumed to tell you how when he had first met Ellie, she had been nothing more than precious cargo to the Fireflies, a girl believed to be immune to Cordyceps. It was his mission to get her to Salt Lake City, but when he and Ellie reached St. Mary’s Hospital, he discovered that the doctors would have to perform a brain operation. It would kill her. Everything that had happened up until that point had been for that specific moment. His bottom lip trembled as he told you he didn't even have to think about it before he grabbed the gun and started shooting. "It was easy," he said as tears welled up in his eyes. After spending months protecting and getting to know Ellie, getting to love her like his own daughter—he wasn't about to not rescue her from yet another certain death. He recalled how they'd had a brief moment before it all, where Ellie admitted she wanted to stay with Joel after the procedure. "Used it as an excuse," he cried silently. "She 'ad no idea she wouldn't come out on the other side."
Your heart sank as it all dawned on you. Everyone involved robbed Ellie of any agency at all.
What seemed to be the worst part for Joel, though, was when he lied to her. Saying she asked him point-blank to tell her the truth of what had happened back there. He spoke through gritted teeth, his gravelly voice clawing its way through his heart in his throat: "Then I told her the fattest lie."
You wanted to jump in, reassure him he did what he thought was right and at least gave her a chance of life. But you couldn't. It was too big a mouthful, too tough to swallow it all at once and give him some not-thought-through assurance.
It was a lot to take in.
You had never doubted Joel would do everything in his power to protect the ones he loved, but this—it was all too visual to get behind. Impeding finding a cure, the rampage through the hospital, the lying. It was easy to see Joel hated every part of what he had done, though he did not regret it. It was horrifying to think, but it didn't not sit right with you.
That's what parents were supposed to be, right?
Protectors.
He might have acted out of his own interest; he might have stripped her of what she believed—what she wanted to be her destiny, but he did it out of love.
You couldn't possibly sit here and say you wouldn't have gone full-on Attica to save the ones you loved. You couldn't possibly tell him you would have done the same either. In more than one way, you were much like Joel, only you hadn't had that kind of bond with anyone in a long time, and so it was impossible for you to understand everything Joel had gone through, everything he still went through.
At this point became quiet, his soft sniffles reduced to staggered breaths. His hands shook in his lap as his fingers fidgeted. You reached across and took his hands in yours, the size difference almost comical in your smaller ones.
"I hate that you went through that, Joel," you began, biting your lip as you contemplated your words. "It was... It might not have been a difficult choice then, but it's no doubt difficult to live with."
You hated to think he had done that, but you could see that he, most of all, was disgusted with himself for lying to her. That would have hurt him more than anything else he had done that day, and it was evident he hated himself for that.
You squeezed his hands between your own, prompting him to look at you.
"You did what you thought was right. You did everything in your power to protect her. You can't possibly be wrong for that."
His eyes dropped and his face contorted, beating himself up. Although his head bobbed in a quiet nod, agreeing with you, your words didn't do much to convince him.
You wanted to cry, loathing the thought that you couldn't convince him he was not a bad man, couldn't help him.
A different approach then.
You were aware that Joel possessed an innate distrust in systems: He had shared with you his experiences with the government back in the day, his experience with the Fireflies, his experience with FEDRA. Nobody had ever worked in his favor.
You were so focused on helping him that you didn't even realize you had reached up to cup his cheek. Stray tears bedewed the upper edge of his stubbles, and you caressed the patch mindlessly with your thumb. You had never been this close.
"Hey," you whispered softly, keeping his despondent brown eyes on you. It broke you but you put on a determined face. "It's okay, you're okay, Joel—you're here. Don't beat yourself up about it, it's okay."
He didn't believe that. Joel's mind was in turmoil, his thoughts turning on him, torturing him.
His eyes squinted, forcing a new wave of tears to flow and you shook him, more harshly than you meant to. "Joel, hey—hey! Look at me, look at me, Joel."
He forced himself to snap out of it, a sharp inhale clawed its way down his throat, forcing his lungs to be filled. The scent of you, the scent of a day's work and macadamia shampoo, calming his senses.
It's okay.
You're okay.
You're safe.
Finally, his labored breaths ceased and he managed to stop trembling. Bringing himself to look at you, you didn't miss the way he gulped, his expression turning soft with the remains of deep lines carving his features.
"Good, you're doing good, Joel," you praised, too close, too deep in it not to brush the fallen strings of dark, matted hair out of his face. "Look whose to say these people had any clue what they were doing? Hell, even if they did manage it—say they produced a cure—what then? How'd they distribute it? How'd they manage to cure the last of us while the Cordyceps is still out there, constantly mutating? I—I mean they might be able to save a couple hundred, maybe thousands—but what's the use? People would get infected along the way, people like us, who are safe here in Jackson, we'd go out there again and risk our lives just to get the vaccine—a-and what for? We've already lost this battle. S'it really worth saving what's left?"
As the tension of your rant died down, you suddenly became very conscious of the way you held onto Joel. Your hands had settled on his shoulders for purchase, and the fleeting thought of how fucking broad they were this up close, made shame crawl your skin.
Dropping your hands, you watched him intently, looking for signs of discomfort, hoping you hadn't gone too far.
Though his expression was difficult to read, your gut told you he was grounded again, and you boldly leaped at the opportunity to provide that last bit of assurance.
You wet your lips and sighed.
"I won't act like I know what is right and what is wrong, but I can't blame you for doing what you believed to be the moral choice. You are not the villain."
Watching as he was deep in thought, a pang of guilt struck you. On more than one occasion, had you accused Joel of being prone to overthinking. From experience, you knew that entailed tossing words around to better fit the negative narrative in one's brain, and now you worried you might have said too much to have been any help at all.
Worriedly, you spoke your mind: "I hope I didn't say too much, make matters worse."
Joel didn't look at you just yet, but he instantly shook his head. "No, no," he muttered, collecting his thoughts. Breathing in was easier now, he noted, the pinching strain in his chest changed for something else. A small chuckle escaped him and he cleared his throat and shifted in the couch to cover it up, as if he didn't mean to let it slip. Turning to you, there was a small glint in his eyes. "Thank you. Really, I… You know, wouldn't 'ave vented to you like that if I expected you to keep your mouth shut. Trust me, you didn't make me feel worse, doll."
Doll. It played on a loop in your mind.
Doll, doll, doll.
"S'good," you mumbled, eyes flickering down his chest. "Cause, you know, really ain't what I was goin' for."
Joel's chest rumbled with a chuckle. There it is again, he mused to himself. That little accent he must have rubbed off on you and that thing in his body tickled his insides again. It had been a long time since he had felt this way, but it was unmistakable.
It dawned on you that you must have been looking at him with the sickly adoration of a girl in love, for when the grin faded it was replaced by—confusion, maybe? Curiosity?
"What?" you blurted, mentally deadpanning for albeit short, it was a sweet moment of quietness and you went ahead and made it weird.
Joel then looked puzzled, his head tilting like a bewildered dog asked if it wanted to go for a walk.
Your heart missed a beat at the look in his eye, another when the brown orbs dropped and lingered on your lips. As if the air had been knocked out of you, you suddenly felt breathless, frozen in place as if struck by fear and you wondered how you could be so stupid. What else could it be—not confusion, not curiosity but the need for knowing; if the same thing that was happening to his heart was happening to yours?
"I-I—" you stammered but were quickly cut off as Joel jumped from the couch as if he had realized he was late for something.
"I, uhh," Joel interrupted though he had no better speech prepared than you had. He scratched the underside of his arm, looking both bashful and hot with embarrassment.
The silence resumed and you stood up as well, trying to figure out what the hell to do with your arms so that you wouldn't look so awkward. "Tell you what, you uh—you go clean up and I'll make a little dinner and we'll eat and I'll get outta your hairs, then." The thought of leaving didn't sound as appealing as you thought it would. Making a fool of yourself, just a second ago, ruining whatever that had been, you would have jumped at the opportunity to hide under the covers, but now—you didn't like that idea one bit. You reminded him—but mostly yourself: "We still got an early morning tomorrow."
Joel frowned, shaking his head. "No, yeah, yeah—you're right, sure."
Without another stumbling attempt at conversation, he spun around and disappeared, feet trotting to the sound of his palpitating heartbeat.
Locking himself in the bathroom, Joel immediately started cursing as he scrabbled about, ending up with his palms firmly pressed against the sink.
Finding his reflection in the mirror, he stared into his own eyes for a minute, collecting his crumbling self. "Get it together."
Stripping out of his clothes, Joel turned the faucet on and stepped into the shower, not bothering to wait for the water to get hot. He needed to cool down, anyway.
He couldn't get the moment out of his head and wondered if he had misread the entire thing. Could it be, that he had merely been so entranced by his own emotions, that he resorted to some simple wish-thinking? Perhaps you realized, coming out of the sympathetic spell, that you cared for him no more than a friend.
Joel scrubbed harder down his body, heedless to the itch that burned around his newly acquired wounds and scratches.
He couldn't get the image out of his head: The way you had looked at him as you clutched his face in your hands, comforting him—it wasn't how friends looked at each other, no matter how much they cared for one another. Joel looked for signs of the same display of affection earlier in the night, and he recalled your banter, your boot teasingly pushing at his leg, and the way you watched him over the rim of the glass.
Stepping out of the shower, he had managed to get his spiraling thoughts under control, sweep them under the carpet, if you will. Drying off, Joel was about to leave the bathroom in nothing but a towel, as one often would in their own home, but reminded himself that you were in his kitchen.
Not wanting to make you uncomfortable, he begrudgingly jumped into a fresh set of clothes, sporting a pair of sweatpants and a tee when he reappeared in the living room.
Joel cursed his own stupidity when he saw you standing there, mindlessly swaying your hips to Y Andale playing in the background (you had found his stereo) as you stirred the pot. He should have put on a pair of briefs to hold the hardening outline of his cock in place.
When you turned around to place the pot on a felt coaster on the dining table, you gave a start as you saw Joel just standing there. He looked devilishly good in the plain outfit, hair damp and slicked back.
You offered him a smirk. “Hope you don’t mind—jus’ couldn’t help myself when I noticed the stereo.”
All the reasons as to why Joel couldn't do a thing about his attraction to you, all the strength he had just mustered in the bathroom to hold himself back; it all went down the drain as he became aware of the vividly domestic setting before him.
You had little time to assess the situation as Joel closed the space between you in just four strides. Before you knew it, one large hand cupped your cheek and another pulled you close by the waist. There was a split second of that something again, and then he pressed his lips to yours.
Your eyes fluttered close and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning into his touch (not that you wanted to). His lips felt dangerously soft and puffy, surprisingly warm and inviting as they passionately touched your own. In a delirious moment, the fresh scent of him veiled you like a pleasant comforter after a long day at work, those plush lips wrapping around yours, nibbling, sucking—all too much and not nearly enough at the same time.
Breaking apart for air, you felt light-headed, like the room was spinning and you were hot with fever.
It looked as if the black of his pupils had swallowed up the brown of his irises. You were weak, thinking you were the root of his lust. Joel breathed your name.
"S'this okay?"
Biting your lip, you blushed. Putting it into words somehow made it seem all the more real. Even if it was a dream, you hoped you would never wake up.
You let out a shaky breath, unable to hold back the small chuckle it turned into. "You don't have to ask, Joel."
He chuckled then, too, realizing it was probably a bit too late for that anyway. The way your teeth let your lower lip go only made his cock grow harder. Holding you closer, firmer against him, Joel sucked in a breath. "F'you let me, I don't think I can stop."
You prayed he could feel your heart beating against his chest, the way you could feel his cock poke your lower stomach.
Searching for his eyes, you nudged your nose against his. "I don't think I ever want you to stop."
He didn't waste another second.
Crashing his lips to yours, the kiss was more heated than the first, showing you exactly how much he wanted you. Swiping his tongue against your lip, you let him in without hesitation, tasting him for the very first time. Tongues dancing and teeth clashing, Joel snaked his arms down your body, lifting you from under your thighs with a grunt.
You were so caught up in finding his soft spots, kissing him gingerly on his neck, that you didn't realize where he was carrying you until you were splayed out on his bed, melting into the mattress.
Eagerly reconnecting your lips, you found yourself having completely forgotten about the soup, relishing the feeling of the open-mouthed kisses Joel pressed to your skin.
Moaning as he nibbled the skin below your ear, you pulled his face back up to yours, wanting to prolong the kiss. He gave in to your desires but trailed his lips down your neck as your fingers entangled with his hair and you began writhing beneath him.
Finding that sweet spot he had only gotten to graze before you pulled him away, he brought his lips close to your ears and whispered: "You gonna let me take care o' you now?"
Too lost in the sensation, the feeling of his warm lips brushing your skin, the press of his body weight against yours, you couldn't do anything but moan, whimpering a small “please”. He could do whatever he wanted with you.
Noting the bliss you were caught in, Joel chuckled, but he was determined on an audible confirmation. Grasping you by the jaw, he forced you back down on earth. "Tell me you want me."
Brows furrowed and hips desperately bucking up, you whined and responded, "please, please, Joel—need you."
Joel had to steady himself against you, feeling his muscles weaken at the sweet, sweet sound of your begging.
"S'a good girl," murmured he, letting his hands roam every curve of your body, every hill, and every cleft. Squeezing your hip, you felt the coarse pads of his fingers caress the skin beneath your top. "Take this off f'me, yeah?"
You quickly got rid of it, not particularly eager to move your hands from his body. Joel laced his fingers through yours, pressing your hands at either side of your head as he eagerly kissed you, his warm tongue darting out of its cave to invite you to dance.
His palm kneaded your breast, a low groan escaping him which you swallowed down, moaning when his coarse thumb swiped across your nipple.
"Can I take these off, baby?" he asked lowly, and you whimpered meekly, bucking your hips up in response.
Joel worked your shorts off of you, and it seemed to get ten degrees hotter in the bedroom. He had left your panties on and as he trailed a path of wet kisses down your body, you groaned pathetically.
"Joel, please," you begged, not sure whether you wanted his fingers or his mouth, his tongue or his cock.
"I know, pretty girl, I know," he hummed, but there was little sympathy in his tone. A wanton sound escaped you when one of his fingers expertly nudged your clit, like he already knew your body like the back of his hand. "Look at you, baby, so pretty and ready f'me."
You had never given it much thought, whether Joel was one for pillow talk, but you certainly didn't mind it. You couldn't even be flustered about the mess you must have made in your panties; not when his eyes were enlivened with adoration and words laced with desire, not when his touch felt so enticing.
Joel pushed your panties aside and ran his fingers through your slick, kissing and nibbling at your inner thigh.
Moaning, a chain of pleas left your lips. Another low chuckle escaped him and you barely managed to pout down at him before his tongue darted out, collecting your arousal in a long, painfully slow lick. Eyes fluttering shut, they rolled to the back of your head while your hands clutched the sheets so hard your knuckles turned white.
"Holy—f-fuck!"
His nose, so perfectly shaped rubbed against your clit and his beard tickled your sex, making you squirm.
Joel used his hands to part your legs further, giving them a squeeze to let you know to keep them in place. His fingers spread your sex and groaned when his thumb played with the bundle of nerves.
As his tongue licked up and down your wet pussy, your legs threatened to close in on him and he must have noticed your struggling because he praised you, murmuring you were doing so good for him. You spread your legs as if on command, determined to be worthy of the praise.
While his thumb circled your clit, a finger prodded against your opening, coating it in your arousal as Joel slipped inside and he grunted. "So damn tight for me, baby girl."
So concentrated on holding your legs in place while he worked you closer to the edge, you involuntarily ground down on his hand, adding to the pressure on your clit, and felt his thick finger spread you so deliciously.
He chuckled, "y'want more, huh?" Adding another finger to the mix, he curled two digits against your spongy walls and you cried out. "I know, I know, baby. You're doing so good, pretty girl, clenchin' down real nice—fuck."
Joel allowed you to feel him as he worked his fingers in and out of your sex at a tauntingly slow rhythm, leaving you to feel the stretch when he was knuckles-deep.
"Fas—fuck! Faster Joel," you moaned, panting as you became increasingly impatient to reach the impending orgasm.
Joel watched you intently, jaw slack, and peppered open-mouthed kisses on your thighs. He picked up the pace, grinding his own hips into the mattress.
"Fuck, baby—that's it, keep makin' those pretty lil' noises for me. Doin' so good," he encouraged, feeling his mouth wet with drool.
"Please—want your cock, Joel," you whined needily.
"I know, I know, baby girl," he sympathized, squeezing your thigh as if to comfort you. It only made you shift beneath him, as his fingers seized pumping, curling against your clenching cunt. He lulled, "you can take a third, right?"
Any answer close to making itself audible was interrupted by his tongue lapping at your clit, adding to the euphoric sensation of three fingers prodding your entrance. A moan got stuck in your throat and your head slammed back down on the pillow, crying at the stretch.
Joel must've sensed your orgasm approaching for he increased the steady thrusting, his movements not once stuttering while his tongue persistently flicked your clit. A wave rushed over you as he coerced the orgasm to be ripped from your writhing body with inaudible praises, letting you ride out your frenzy on his now-soaked face.
Bleary-eyed, hands balling up the sheets, you willed yourself the strength to look down at the sight—and by God, it truly was a sight.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, revealing a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. Your cheeks flushed red, and you pulled him into your neck to hide your embarrassment, as if he hadn't just eaten you out as if his life depended on it.
Joel held your face, eyes mindlessly scanning over your features. "Don't be shy now, baby, tastes goddamn delicious," he hummed with a satisfied lull to his tone, pressing his lips to yours.
"No one's ever done that," you blurted, not entirely sure why you would even admit that.
A frown settled on his face, something resembling disbelief and amusement, and then a strained touch of lust padded over his expression. He was not hesitant to admit that only turned him on all the more. Joel’s ego even told him you had been waiting, saving yourself just for him.
You reached between you to pull down his sweatpants and Joel was happy to let you help him out of his constraints: He had had to stop grinding into the mattress while going to town for fear that he might cream his pants. That would have been embarrassing, busting like some teenager finally getting some action. Though he was touch starved, he would hate to wait any longer—he needed to finally feel you—finally be a part of you.
You had always imagined Joel would have a big cock, but your fantasy scenarios did him no justice—he was long and thick, heavy as his weeping tip pushed against your entrance, and you realized why he had insisted on stretching you out first.
Your sex lives had never been a topic brought up in conversation prior to today, but you could imagine he knew it had been a long damn time. Feeling his cock prod against your sex, you felt thankful for the forethought.
"Fuck," Joel shuddered, sheathing himself in your cunt. His forehead bumped against yours. "So damn tight f'me, baby girl."
You latched your hands onto his shoulders for support, wincing at every inch he filled you with.
Joel hadn't noticed he had been holding his breath before he bottomed out in you, a ragged groan finally releasing itself from his dry throat. He caught your heavy-lidded eyes with a boyish smirk—he could hardly believe this was happening, after so long. "How ya feelin'?"
You let out a breathy chuckle, overwhelmed by the aphrodisiac that was the mixture of his smell and his touch. "Over the fuckin' moon."
The worry vanished, wiping his face clean to replace it with another expression, a search.
You tucked him closer, grasping his ass to feel him better. "Fuck me now."
Cock twitching, saluting your command, and obeying your wish, he pulled back, thrusting his hips forward in a grinding motion that had you gasping for air, eyes rolling back.
Joel pressed sultry kisses to your neck, to your cheek, and to the corner of your mouth. Cupping your face in one palm and holding himself up by his elbow, he forced you to come back to him. "Eyes on me, pretty girl."
There's a spot inside you, one you can't recall ever reaching, but when Joel does you're sure your fingernails dig little crescents into his skin. White hot blurs your vision, a string of wanton moans and curses leaving your lips, panting. "Holy shit."
Your hands roam over the expanse of his chest as his thrusts become harder, more relentless. The sun-kissed skin warms your palms and your foreheads brush, breaths shared.
"Fuck, it's like y'were made for me," he sighed, brows creased in concentration and eyes fixated on where his cock disappeared inside your cunt. The sounds of skin slapping were so fucking vulgar and he's right, you thought, and he was made for you, too.
His rhythm was designed to make you see stars. The coil in your stomach tightened and he must have felt you squeezing around him, for the motions only became harsher, his hips crashing into yours in precise strokes.
Joel's head drooped, nose brushing your temple as he shook his head. "M'not gonna last much longer," he confessed lowly.
Dexterous fingers snaked between your sweat-licked bodies and he rubbed your clit, desperate to feel you come around his cock.
Gasping, holding onto his shoulders as he rocked your body back and forth, you forced his eyes to lock with yours. "Come inside me, Joel," you begged fervently, and you knew it was risky, very fucking risky, in fact, but you couldn't care less—you wanted to feel all of him.
The didn't deter him one bit, however, if anything it spurred him on, the jolts of his hips becoming animalistic. He found purchase on your shoulders, holding you in place so that he could better fuck up into you. His hips began stuttering, sinful groans falling from his dirty mouth. "You want me t'fill you up, yeah? Want everyone to know who you belong to? That's it, baby, come around my cock 'n I'll fill you up real good."
Losing yourself to the mind-wrangling orgasm, your legs spasmed and you cried his name, repeating it like a prayer while he fucked you through yours, chasing his own.
With one, two, three thrusts, he spilled inside you, burying his cock deep in your cunt as his purchase buckled under his weight. You didn't care that he collapsed on you—you had never felt better, never felt more full.
Coming down from your highs, you held him close even when he slumped down against your side, his softening cock slipping out of your sex.
For a few moments, you just lay there, regaining your breath, feeling the reality of it all wash back over you. It felt silly having to summon the courage to face him again, but you couldn't help the blush that colored your cheeks.
Joel spoke first. "Can't believe it took us so damn long," he mused, somewhat dumbfounded with a grimace of disbelief. You melted when his strong arm cradled you closer to his chest.
You nuzzled your face into his neck, sighing quietly along to the rise and fall of his breathing. Yawning, you drowsily mumbled, "I don't ever wanna leave your side, Joel."
Joel pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, holding you close as he felt sleep closing in on him. "You won't, sweetheart. I won't let you." Your heart was racing but sleep managed to pull you under its grasp. Joel relished the languid hum you offered in response, and he brushed the hair from your face, kissing you one last time. He could barely wait to wake up with you in the morning. "Sweet dreams, pretty girl."
#theplumsoldier#joel miller#joel miller imagine#joel miller fic#joel miller tlou#pedro pascal#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#the last of us#joel tlou#joel the last of us
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[contains spoilers]
I'm an eternal digger of good narrative techniques. A decent story becomes great in my eyes if the narrative is done right. And it's one of the hardest things to do really, since there's no one-size-fits-all rule for what technique works well with a particular story and what doesn't. One of the primary reasons I keep obsessing over Lovely Runner is its' narrative technique. In all honesty, if it had a linear, singular narrative, I would not be hyperventilating over it on a constant basis (I still would just a certain amount, because both Byeon Woo Seok and Kim Hye Yoon deserve awards for what they are doing). One reason it has managed to knock it out off the park and take the top spot in my forever-favorite list is how wonderfully well the narrative is done.
The primary perspective used in this show is Im Sol's. It's through her we're introduced to the story. Her perspective gives shape to the plot, the characters, because we learn things through her. Her perspective is absolutely critical for exposition. Without her thoughts and way of viewing things, you would never realize why saving Seon Jae means so much to her, or why she would bend the rules and bulldoze ahead when it comes to his safety (exhibit A, her leaving home on the day of the accident, despite knowing about her fate). She'd rather have him alive than have him in her life. Without her narrative, you'd think it's really all about a fan saving her idol (thanks to everyone who'd rejected the script listening to that pitch by the way, I'm grateful we have BWS and KHY as the leads because of that, I would not change it for anyone else). With Im Sol's perspective, you realize, she is not just a fan: she's an ardent admirer, a cheerleader, a well-wisher, a protector, an invisible friend trying to support her friend any way she can, someone who respects Seon Jae, sees him as an idol but also as a human, someone who wants to give back to him the same kindness, empathy and love she had once received from him over a radio call. To her, Seon Jae is first a guardian angel and then an idol, the angel who changed her view of life, made her appreciate things even amidst all that could be wrong with the world and her life. He saved her. Not just on that day at the hospital but every time she struggled and faltered since then, he was there, as invisible as it may have been. So this time, she wants to save him, no matter the price.
Then comes Seon Jae. Oof. If Im Sol's perspective gives the story its beautiful, beautiful shape, Seon Jae's perspective breathes literal life in to the body of the story. The show wouldn't be what it is today if not for his perspective. Without his view into things, Im Sol appears as a fangirl going to extreme measures to save her idol, clinging onto him like a monkey (yes I mean the poster) embarrassing the heck out of herself, making you cringe (in a good, enjoyable way) throughout. Then you reach the end of episode 2 and it knocks the breath out of you because WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEAN. It all clicks.
All this while we kept thinking Seon Jae was caught off guard and just kind enough to tolerate her antics, and maybe he'd slowly fall for her now, only to realize we were completely oblivious to a whole different side of the story. If Im Sol's narrative draws you in and keeps you hooked, making you root for her to succeed, it's Seon Jae's narrative that makes you irredeemably fall in love with them and sincerely, genuinely, desperately hope they get their happy ending together after all the storm.
And the motifs. Walking/running, for instance. I'll focus on just one scene here. I recall seeing a bts where KHY is discussing the OG 2008 accident scene, and it explains how she has to slow down, while running away, for just a moment, only to be hit by the taxi driver. Have you ever been in a situation of absolute panic, desperation and stress, then suddenly found a familiar face or a name or a thing you could connect to, and felt a wave of relief rush through you? She sees Seon Jae, a person who is calling out her name. Even if she didn't know him back then, the fact that he knew her (and that he had his uniform on), gives her a sense of safety she badly needed that moment. That momentary relief, so visible in her features, then overtakes the crippling fear she felt running in the middle of nowhere with no one in sight in the dead of the night. Her body, already exhausted beyond anything, responds to the relief she feels for those few seconds, slowing down her steps.
And that is when she is caught off-guard and hit. That also might have added to Im Sol's anger at the hospital when she is screaming at Seon Jae, her internal anguish that if only she had not paused seeing Seon Jae, and kept on running, then maybe she wouldn't be hit, wouldn't fall, wouldn't lose her ability to walk. It's one thing to have tropes and symbolic things, but it's a very different thing to know how to use them effectively so they elicit very specific types of emotions/reactions out of people. Lovely Runner excels in that. All kdramas more or less have 'things' that take on different meanings for the couples/viewers. It's the way motifs are used to narrate the story in this one that has me going back over and over again to all the episodes aired so far. These are not just their 'things', these are 'things' that drive the plot forward, tell you about their characters, their personal motivations, what they mean to each other and so much more.
This is getting longer that I intended it to be so will end with this. I feel valued when watching Lovely Runner. And I've seen people saying the same thing. It feels like they respect your critical thinking skills, and your ability to infer, so they don't spoon-feed you everything from the get-go, and you can't predict much despite it being primarily a rom-com. You'd be pulling your hair out (again, in a good way) trying to figure out what they will show next, and you will be somewhat or very far from the truth, which will compel you to think further about the story, the characters, long after an episode has aired...I can't remember the last time it happened with a drama. I love this storytelling.
#Lovely Runner#Byeon Woo Seok#Kim Hye Yoon#Sun Jae#Im Sol#Seon Jae#선재 업고 튀어#kdrama#kdrama recommendations#east asian drama
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Lola Glaudini shared a new story about Johnny Depp from the set of the 2001 film ''Blow'' on an episode of the Powerful Truth Angels podcast in January. The actress says the experience was brought back to her mind while watching news footage of the Depp/Amber Heard trial.
Johnny Depp… comes up to me, sticks his finger in my face. And I’m in a bikini, on the ground, like this. And he comes over and he goes, ‘Who the fuck do you think you are? Who the fuck do you think you are? Shut the fuck up. I’m out here, and I’m trying to fuckin’ say my lines, and you’re fuckin’ pulling focus, you fucking idiot! …Oh, now? Oh now it’s not so funny? Now you can shut up? Now you can fuckin’ shut the fuck up? Oh it’s not funny now? Okay, the quiet that you are right now, that’s how you fuckin’ stay.’ First day on the set. I’d never met him. This is my first studio movie, I’ve just done indies until then. And I have the star who I have idolized, who I’m so excited to work with, reamed me in my face. The only thing going through my head was, ‘Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.’”
Demme didn’t intervene on Glaudini’s behalf, and over the next “five, six more hours” she was treated by everyone on set as a “pariah.” “Like, no one wanted to fucking talk to me, because I’m the bitch who he railed at,” the actor recalls. Afterward, she went to her trailer and sobbed, then spoke to her father, who said she could either choose to walk away or “don’t let them see you sweat.” Resolved to stay on the film, she left her trailer and was confronted by Depp again. Looking down on her from the doorframe of her own trailer, the star gave her “a non-apology apology,” giving excuses that he was “really in [his] head” and that the Boston accent he was doing was “really fucking with [him].” When he said he wanted to make sure the pair was “cool,” “I just looked at him and I was like, ‘I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Of course. Totally cool,” Glaudini says. “’Cause I was just like, don’t let them see you sweat. And so that was that. And then we had six weeks in Acapulco.”
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Attatched At The Hip
Word Count: 660
A/N: ahh this was just some rambly thoughts about bucky that kinda turned into a fic? i don't love how i ended it so maybe i'll revisit this in a little bit when my computer is fixed but i couldn't resist posting it already because i just. guys i love bucky so much and i just wanna tlk about him all the time. lol. so yeah this is just some bucky fluff that i hope you guys enjoy 💕
That’s what Steve always teased that you and Bucky were, attached at the hip. If you could spend the rest of your life anywhere in the whole world, it would be cradled in Bucky’s left arm, held safely and firmly against his side. It wasn’t a matter of favoritism, you loved your daddy just as dearly as your Baba, and you were always eager and excited for hugs and kisses from the great Captain America. You and Bucky had a deep bond just between the two of you, one that Steve respected and understood, and being constantly held was mutually beneficial for that bond: you were always able to be soothed and cared for whenever your heart desired it, and Bucky was persistently reminded that he was loved, safe, and doing good by you.
Plus, it helped that his metal arm never, ever got tired.
That’s how you found yourself now, cradled into Bucky’s side and perched upon his muscular thigh in the Avengers compound briefing room. Usually when a meeting was called, you’d be left with whichever caregiver didn’t have to attend that day, or you got to go to daycare if both were recruited that day. This time, however, you were still fast asleep on Bucky’s chest where you’d decided to take your nap that day when he got the meeting alert. Steve was off that day and offered to take care of you while Bucky was busy, but the thought of rousing you from your most peaceful state made both their hearts ache, so along you came.
Coos of adoration had echoed through the meeting room when Bucky entered with you, but he politely shushed his coworkers. The goal was to keep you asleep for as much of the meeting as possible, knowing that as soon as you woke up you’d want a bottle, and that waking up in a strange room would probably send you into a tantrum anyways. Fortunately, with Bucky’s enhanced hearing, he was able to sit in the far back of the room with you and still hear everything being said.
The change in location from the couch all the way to the briefing room only caused you to stir the tiniest bit, Bucky’s even breaths keeping you rooted in your slumber as the meeting commenced. At one point, Thor let out a raucous laugh, and you seemed to react in your sleep, flexing your fingers at the sound of your friend, but not even the excitement at the thought of playtime could outweigh the comfort you felt in Bucky’s arms. He ran his right hand across your back, soothing you back into dreamland for the rest of the meeting, and you only finally awoke as everybody was saying their goodbyes and Bucky stood up to leave.
Maybe it was because you’d already napped for over two hours, maybe it was the shift of energy in the room as all the Avengers were now free to shake off work mode and socialize with each other. You lifted your heavy head from Bucky’s shoulder and blearily looked around, half open eyes taking in the fact that you were not at home and instead in an area of the compound you rarely had reason to visit. Seeing all your Avenger friends together in this location, you put two and two together, grabbing tightly onto Bucky’s shirt as you looked up at him with worry.
“Baba gotta go to a meeting now?” You asked, still fragile from your nap and not wanting to give up the comfort of your caretaker’s embrace. But Bucky only chuckled.
“Doll, I already went to the meeting, you slept through it!”
“I did?” You questioned with genuine surprise, in disbelief that you’d done such a thing.
“Sure did, angel. Did you have a good nap?”
“Uh huh!” You nodded. “I had a dream… I was playin’ wif Thor.”
You smiled to yourself, recalling the way you’d heard him laugh even in your slumber.
#stucky x little!reader#bucky x little!reader#daddy!stucky x little!reader#agere fic#little!reader#marvel agere#bucky barnes x little!reader#bucky x reader fluff#cg!bucky#daddy!bucky#chloe's fic
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heaven surrounds you — yuji itadori
angel yuji x f reader
fluff, strangers to lovers, human/nonhuman, slowish burn
8k words
summary: yuuji, your guardian angel, flirts with the idea of breaking heaven's law to be with you.
Yuji lies, draped at the feet of God.
He presents himself in front of a being that he, along with other angels, cannot ever describe through any human language.
He knows what he’s here for. There’s no use in hiding it– he’s in front of God. And even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t feel the need to hide it anyway. He’ll plead guilty for days on end, knowing what he’s done. No one should beg for forgiveness, for simply loving you.
He loves you.
A voice, a loud but gentle voice, reaches down and into Yuji’s ears. It’s like it comes from inside of his head. No other angel or being that walks the earth can hear it, except for him.
“Yuji,” It rings. It nearly lulls him to sleep. “You know what you’re here for.”
“Yes,” He whispers out.
God does not have a face. And if it does, Yuji has never seen it. But God has a voice, and Yuji thinks that God is smiling right now, just by the sound. It’s soothing, makes him feel better about the punishment he’s about to receive. He doesn’t know what God will make him face in light of loving you, but he doesn’t mind. He’ll greet it with open arms. He’ll never regret what he feels for you.
Devotion. It’s all about his devotion to you.
Yuji lets his eyes slip shut, feels as if the warmth of heaven suffocates him slowly, invading all his senses and clouding his mind. All his memories, all his knowledge- it unravels slowly, like a ball of yarn spilling from its place and undoing itself. He’s losing more and more of it, the thin material slipping right out of his very fingers, but at the very end, he sees you.
You don’t slip away.
He is everywhere, that boy with pink hair.
You don’t know his name– you’re always too shy or shaken up to ask, but he’s always there. He’s behind you in the grocery line when you find you’re just a little too short to pay for everything, so he covers the rest of it for you. He’s there when your car gets stuck in the snow, using all his strength to help you push it (his strength is inhuman, you find out). He’s there to offer you a bandaid when your finger catches on a piece of metal on the subway, there when you spill a drink all over yourself and stain your white shirt at the diner- he’s the one who saves the day, as always, giving you his jacket to cover up. He was the waiter passing by.
You’re in front of the same diner now, his jacket folded neatly in your hands, carrying the scent of fresh lavender. You washed it with the intention to return it to him as soon as possible, and perhaps, catch his name, talk to him a little bit.
When you step in and greet the hostess, who is quick to get you seated, you blurt out a weak Wait! and she freezes in her tracks.
“I’m only here to return this,” You start sheepishly, holding the jacket up. “I didn’t get the waiter’s name, but, he’s really tall and… he has pink hair. I think he’s got some beauty marks under his eyes, too,” Your voice shakes from embarrassment, “That’s all I remember.”
The hostess eyes you carefully. “No one that works here has pink hair, I’m sorry.”
“N-No?” You repeat, feeling your inner hope crumble into pieces. You purse your lips and try to think a little harder… maybe it was the lighting that always made his hair come off as pink? Maybe he was actually blond…
But to be pink every time…
“Ah, um- I think he had blond hair, actually, and uh…” You try to recall any other details that could help.
His necklace.
With every encounter you’ve had with the boy, he was always wearing a dainty gold chain around his neck- it always suited him well, in your opinion. It wasn’t tacky or too flashy, and always neatly tucked into his shirts.
“He wore a gold chain, I think,” You add impulsively, a little too unsure of yourself.
“A blond waiter with beauty marks and a gold chain...” She trails off, then looks behind her shoulder to glance over at all the staff working. “I don’t think anyone here fits that description, but I could go and check, if you like.”
“No! That’s fine, no worries! Maybe he was actually a customer and I just– yeah, yeah that’s all. Thank you so much for your time, though!”
You’re chirping at her like a frazzled bird, face heating up and heart racing intensely from the embarrassing encounter. It wasn’t that bad, but you had to take a few deep breaths after you settled into your car, recovering.
Why can’t I find you?
Yuji knows. He knows you’re on the search for him.
He sees you peeking about, observing every single face you can when you’re out in public. He watches as you try, time and time again, searching through his jacket pockets to find any sort of identification. He saw, and even laughed to himself a little, when you deep cleaned your washer and dryer in hopes that something spilled from the pockets and got lost in the machines.
No dice.
He was, quite literally, impossible to find. And he knew that very well– no one could seek him out, he had to be the one to find you. He’s not even human, so you’re just out of luck.
Or, perhaps you aren’t.
A few weeks have passed since you tried to find that mysterious boy at the diner, and now that you’ve slowly given up, you’re starting to forget about him. You haven’t seen him around, and you haven’t run into any issues that he could possibly save you from, so both his jacket and your memory of him are tucked far, far away, in the corners of a closet you don’t usually open.
That is until the plastic bags holding all your snacks from your corner store run rip open, and all of your goodies spill out onto the sidewalk. You huff out an aggravated, tired sigh as you crouch to scoop everything up and fit it all into your arms to your best ability.
A pair of hands creep into your vision, soft and clean. They wrap around your items on the floor, and for a second, you think this person is going to steal your stuff and run away.
But you look up, and it's him. It’s that flighty, pink haired boy, beauty marks and gold chain and all.
“It’s you!” You sputter, so excited that your things fall from your grasp and tumble back onto the pavement, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. “You! The boy! From the diner, and the store, and- and–”
You’re so excited that you cut yourself off, a big smiling gracing your features, and you feel so elated, so excited and literally overjoyed, just the sight of him being so close to you makes you feel like you’ve swallowed a vial of sunlight.
Yuji, on the other hand, feels like there are sirens and alarms going off in his head. He’s read about this in a book, he’s sure, and he’s nearly positive that Gojo taught his class what to do in a case like this (which would be considered a worst-case scenario; for you to recognize him). Angels are supposed to make their appearances quick, easy, and harmless. Only a little amount of words should be exchanged, and then they should go, leaving behind no trace for their human to follow.
Angels are supposed to be in Heaven. Really, Yuji should be in Heaven right now, and instead of him being here to help you scoop everything up, it would’ve been a different stranger, a stranger that Yuji propelled to help you. It shouldn’t be him.
But Yuji has been cast down to Earth by God, claiming it’d be better for him, a more hands-on experience. He can’t go back until the higher ups within the angelic hierarchy decide that Yuji has learned his lesson and is suited to guide and protect from the Heavens. It’s harder when you’re so far away, but he’s been able to catch you in difficult moments now that he’s here, in a somewhat human manifestation of himself.
His brain goes blank. He remains silent, but flashes you a smile.
“Uh,” You cough out, surprised by his lack of communication. “Thank you for helping me pick all of this up,” You start, and then Yuji thinks that it counts as a sort of goodbye, so he starts backing away.
“Wait!” You call out unceremoniously, as if he’s already miles away. “I need… can you help me take all of this stuff back home? And- and I have your jacket, still. It’s… yours. Yeah. And- maybe, since you’ve helped me out so much, you’d be okay with dinner? N-not in a date way, I just… really feel the need to pay you back…”
He’s intrigued, to say the least. He’s never heard someone talk and stutter so much before, besides himself, of course.
Truthfully, he doesn’t need the jacket. He doesn’t need the dinner, either– he’s not entirely human, so it’s not like he gets hungry. But you need his help, and, well, isn’t that the point of all of this?
“Okay,” He finally lets out, sounding a little robotic before he clears his throat and tries again, “Yeah, of course. I’d be happy to help.”
You let out a happy hum before guiding him to your apartment, and the entire time that the two of you walk there, he’s quiet. You’re going on and on about how hard you tried to find him, and how it’s so funny that he’s always there whenever you need help. He laughs nervously at that.
When you ask him about his name, he hesitates for too long. Really, he shouldn’t tell you. He thinks he’s crossing some sort of line– he really shouldn’t tell you.
But then again, it would be heinous if an angel lied, right? He can’t just lie to you. That would probably be worse than telling you his name, he thinks.
“Yuji,” He lets out finally, a little too late. “Sorry, I… spaced out. My name is Yuji.”
“Yuji,” You repeat, giving the name a test trial before you happily give him your name in return.
I already know, he wants to say.
He’s quiet when you both reach your home, quiet as you cook dinner, quiet as you pad around your cozy little apartment. Though he throws you a soft, appreciative smile when you give him back his jacket.
This is the most silent he has ever been in his entire life. There’s too much going on in his head, he’s unsure of what to do and of what to say to you, but it feels like he’s only entrenching himself deeper and deeper into his dilemma as he keeps agreeing with you, letting you take the lead. His life as an angel really, really does depend on all of this. If he breaks a rule (God knows how many he’s already broken– literally), this could be his first and last gig.
Yuji’s broken from his thoughts as you set down a plate of food in front of him; supper, he presumes.
Yuji has never eaten anything in his life. He’s an angel, a heavenly being, he doesn’t need to eat, drink, take a leak or a dump, doesn’t get hot or cold, doesn’t feel pain. He’s not human, as much as he may look like one.
And, from your perspective, you just assume he eats slowly. Your eyes are all focused on your plate as you take your fork and eat, missing the way he’s observing your every move to mimic you.
He takes the fork into his fingers, slowly and sort of clumsily, but is forever thankful that you don’t notice. He’s about to give up and just grip the end of a fork like a child would, wrapping a whole fist around it, but he picks up on it just enough to slide by.
Yuji has never eaten anything in his life. But as he takes a bite of your food, some of it spilling off his fork and right back onto his plate, he thinks he understands why humans eat so much, disregarding the fact that they need it to survive.
Your cooking makes him think of a place he’s never been, gives him a feeling he’s truly never felt before. It’s warm– he knows the food is actually warm– but the feeling itself spreads throughout his chest, and it feels like it’s nearly engulfing his heart. It’s almost like he wants to cry, maybe.
He was created and raised in Heaven, and he has never felt something so, so, so… human. To eat. To enjoy food– to enjoy it enough, to eat more. To feel this warmth, this sort of fullness that’s doing good for his heart.
Needless to say, he wolfs down his plate (as politely as he can).
You’re practically over the moon as he shyly asks for seconds, then scarfs it all down quickly before asking if it’s okay to have a little more. And you just nod eagerly, taking his plate and adding some more. Yuji makes a mental note in his head– he really has to tell Megumi and Nobara about how good food is, once he’s back up there.
The both of you finish up and Yuji finally remembers who he is and what he’s here for. He’s only here to protect you– from afar, of course. Dinner with you made him feel like a housemate, like it was a regular, recurring thing.
It’s getting darker and he’s trying to inch closer and closer towards the door, telling you how much he needs to get home, thinks he left the kitchen light on by accident. It’s a little fib, he knows, but he cannot risk this for any longer.
There’s a soft, repetitive pit pat sound that hits your windows, your ceiling, and the walls outside. It’s so gentle that he doesn’t hear it at first, but within seconds, it’s pouring. It’s so rambunctious, it’s like there’s hundreds of people throwing rocks at your building, and when you peek out your window to see how bad the rain is, the street is flooded.
You pull back from the window, looking at Yuji sheepishly. “It’s really bad out there, so, if you want… I mean… you can stay until the rain passes…. I’d hate for you to get caught out there.”
His eyebrows raise.
Is this a test? Is it all a test?
The timing seems a little too coincidental, and if he could, Yuji’d look up at your ceiling (imagining it was God) and give a proper scowl.
He has a difficult time declining all your offers as you smoothen out your sofa, draping blankets and pillows all over to make the space more comfortable for him. You do it silently, eagerly, excited to treat someone who has saved you so many times. He senses it from you, your genuine hospitality and kindness.
It’s getting darker. You can only see the outline of his figure in the living room as you bid him goodnight, tell him to sleep well before you slip into your bedroom.
While Yuji lays on his back, hands folded beneath his head, he cannot help but think about how much the roles have reversed this time.
Yuji’s confession reaches you in your sleep, through your dreams.
You’re back at the diner. You’re sitting in a booth, Yuji sitting across from you. He’s adorned in a white gown and golden robe, with a soft, circular glow around his head.
You can’t see yourself, can’t look down at yourself, but you feel a comfortable feeling on your shoulders, your arms. You’re wearing his jacket.
Yuji smiles to himself, eyes avoiding yours as his fingers fumble with an empty straw wrapper.
“I have something to tell you,” He starts quietly.
“Yeah,” You say with disbelief, but your voice comes off as amused. “Yeah. I think you do.”
He doesn’t say anything after that. What he must tell you has already been conveyed.
You think, in your dream, that there’s a lot to unpack. But it’s like Yuji communicates with you silently, slipping his words into your mind until you understand. It almost feels like as soon as the dream began to play out in your mind, you already knew of the secret he carried. It’s a deep-seated knowledge that nearly feels like you’ve been born with it.
The two of you are quiet as your food arrives, as you eat. This time, Yuji doesn’t need to watch and learn from you. He intrinsically knows how to handle a plate, how to eat.
It’s funny, you think, somewhere in the realm of your dream. It’s funny to see Yuji, an angel, fit a huge burger in between his hands, taking a reckless bite. There’s ketchup at the corner of his lips. He doesn’t move very gracefully for an angel.
When the two of you are done, he rests his palms on the table and pushes himself up to stand.
“I have to go now,” He says.
You want to speak up, want to tell him to wait, to stay. But it’s like your mouth is sealed shut, because you can only hear yourself pleading in your mind for him not to leave as you silently watch him slip into the dark corners of your vision. Your heart aches, because you so desperately want to tell him to stay, even just a little bit longer, but you stay quiet.
And just like that, he’s gone. He’s left you again.
The feeling of him leaving shakes you up enough to wake you up. But it’s a peaceful awakening– you're not sweating, gasping, or panicking for air. You simply blink your eyes open, greeted by the rising sun and soft songbirds. He leaves you with a sense of peace and curiosity, as he always has.
You softly step into your hallway, peeking into the living room, checking if he’s there.
He is. He’s up and folding all the blankets you gave him the night before, fluffing your pillows and sorting them neatly on the cushions of your couch.
You make your presence known with a gentle clear of your throat, and he whirls around to meet you. Yuji smiles at you, admiring you in your sleepy state.
“Good morning.”
“Morning,” You croak, eyes landing on his dainty little chain. He sees you focusing on it. You both know what it is.
He’s positive that his message got to you. He coughs and smooths over his shirt before tucking his hands behind himself like a shy schoolboy.
“I have to go now,” He says, again.
This isn’t your dream. This isn’t your dream, so you will yourself to move forward and speak, because you know that you will likely never see him again like this if you let him leave.
It’s a selfish, selfish thing. A human thing.
“You can’t,” You start, reaching forward to hold his arm, but a sudden fear strikes your heart and you let your hand fall. You’re not sure if you can touch him. Yuji’s gaze softens when he sees it.
“I must,” He says simply, though he doesn’t move. He watches your features wash over with some sort of grief, a sort of longing as if he’s already gone, like you’re letting yourself feel it now so that you don’t have to face it later.
“Yuji,” You start again, voice so gentle and tender. The tone of it makes him freeze up, makes him reminiscent of something he has only felt in Heaven. The way you say his name brings him a feeling of prayer, somehow sounding so similar to an angel's whisper of Dear God.
“Stay,” You plead softly.
“Watch over me.” A prayer, he thinks again.
Yuji finds that he cannot deny your request. He is, after all, here on Earth for the sole purpose of protecting you.
Living with Yuji by your side is like raising a toddler. It’s teaching him how technology works, telling him the stove is hot, showing him how to use different kitchen utensils. And in return, you learn from him as well. You see light in his eyes, feel kindness from his heart, tenderness in the entirety of his being that is pure, untouched by humanity. He has no hidden motives. There’s nothing that he must keep from you. He’s unabashedly expressive and warm and like a beam of light that resides next to you on your creaky couch.
You give him little lessons about the human world. He shows you unadulterated warmth.
Yuji is filled to the brim with curiosity, and sometimes, you’re nervous that he may burst at the seams. His wonder has a chokehold on him, and on you, too. Everywhere that you take him, he’s pointing things out, asking what certain ads and newspapers and commercials mean. He’s a stranger to pop culture, to history, to the world climate.
You ask him, one day– only slightly irritated by his pestering nature– how come he doesn’t know any of this. You thought that angels may be just as all-knowing as God is; how is it that he has been assigned to keep a human safe, with little to no knowledge on the world a human lives in?
His answer comes out sheepish, almost ashamed. He plays with his napkin, folding it over and pressing it flat. “In Heaven, there’s kinda this idea that- that–” He cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek as his hands freeze their movements, like his mind is recalculating.
“There’s this idea that humans live in a tainted world. There is no benefit from learning about it, and I think… I think some angels are afraid that if we learn about it, we will bring that poisoned world into Heaven.”
You only hum in acknowledgment, in understanding. Your heart softens like water being poured over dry, packed up soil, and you feel something unfurl within you. A want, or perhaps more of a need, to show Yuji that mortal life is not all that bad, is planted in you. And despite the obvious gap between you two– a heavenly being and a human, sinful by nature– you’re sure that maybe you can be his beam of light, too.
And so, with your tender heart, you let Yuji pester and question you all he wants. You let him point out things very obviously (and maybe a little bit embarrassingly) out in public, let him peer over your shoulder as you read the news, let him catch up on documentaries and shows that inherently teach him more about the world while you’re gone at work, thus letting him get ahead of you. And when he’s apologetic, you tell him it’s okay, and then the both of you play the media from start to finish again. He never gets tired. Never of the world, of learning, of you.
Yuji has learned a plethora of things during his stay with you. Through reading, watching, observing– he’s learned slang, history, gestures, culture; but above all, he has learned that he does not know what love is.
Yuji thought that he knew what love is like. Angels feel love, but it’s different from what he’s seen ever since he came down to earth.
The love that angels carry is the kind that is unwavering, it never dies out, though it is not as intense as the love that Yuji has begun to see. It’s a feeling that every single angel is innately born with– a love for humanity, a love for God. There are no intimate ties or pretty feelings, but it is a love that is known, like an unspoken law. He feels love for you, feels love for people; wants to protect you, guide others, keep everyone safe and keep the peace. That’s what Yuji calls love.
But as Yuji becomes more familiar with human nature and behavior, he cannot help but feel like he’s clueless when it comes to love. He sees relationships, family, small acts of what he thinks is real love occurring between them.
He sees people splitting food in half and into sections to share with others. He sees people with matching bracelets, rings, necklaces. He sees people translating what others are saying so that their loved one can understand. He sees people linking pinkies, sees people on the subway whispering to each other and snickering to themselves, sees children clinging onto their parents. He sees people splayed out on the grass, surrounded by blankets and baskets and plenty of food. He sees true, real, love.
Yuji learns, through time, that he doesn’t know love. Not up close and personal, anyway. He hasn’t felt it, and he knows surely that his love for humanity is not the same type of love that people share amongst the ones they know. It’s different.
So at every waking moment, Yuji tries to see if there is love in the things you do. He watches when you cook, thinks if you’re chopping up the vegetables with love. When you laugh at one of his questions, he wonders if there is love behind it. When you read a book and lean over to him, pointing to a specific line that you think he would like, he wonders, is that love? In the mornings, as he spots the little sticky notes and instructions that you leave for him on the fridge, he asks himself if it is an act of love. There’s a dull itch that resides somewhere in his chest– somewhere that he struggles pinpointing himself– an itch that yearns to know how you love.
He wants to know, and he wants to try.
One evening, after you’ve finished making dinner, the two of you sit across from each other as you eat. Yuji keeps throwing you glances as you munch quietly before leaning over the table and bringing his plate over yours.
Wordlessly, he uses his fork to push some of his food onto your plate.
You freeze, eyes overlooking him.
“Are… are you full?”
He shakes his head before eating more food from his plate. “No. I can’t get full.”
“Then… what’s… what’s this about?”
“I wanted to share with you.”
“Share with me?”
“Yeah.”
You’re utterly confused, eyes flittering from your plate and back up to his face over and over again. He isn’t suppressing a laugh, he doesn’t look guilty as if he’s pulling a funny little prank like the ones he’s seen on your social media.
“There’s more food in the pan, Yuji,” You start, “You didn’t have to give me yours. There’s plenty left… I could’ve gotten some myself.”
You’re missing the point, he thinks.
You clear your throat. “Did you… not like it?”
“No!” He bursts, leaning over the table again, hand reaching out only slightly as if you’ll dissolve away within a matter of seconds. “No– no, I mean, I did like it– I just thought I could share. I thought sharing was nice. A nice thing to do.”
He wants to tell you that he thinks sharing is an act of love, but he bites his tongue and sinks back into his chair.
You smile softly at his words, then give a little hum.
“Thank you, Yuji.”
He looks at you from beneath his lashes, catches the sight of you eating the food that came from his plate. And although his plan didn’t go exactly how he wanted, and the message flew over your head, he thinks this is enough.
You and Yuji spend a rainy night inside watching movies and trying out new shows.
The thunder outside is a little muffled as you pick a show, tossing the remote somewhere onto the couch cushion next to you. The entire apartment is dark, save for the flash of lights and images on the TV screen.
The show starts off strong– it introduces the main character, then within a few minutes, shows the character going out for a spunky night and, of course, escalates into a sex scene.
You feel like you’re 16 and watching an explicit scene with your parents. Your eyes avoid the screen and you cough, making it obvious that you’re searching for the remote somewhere in the dark, muttering something about how in-your-face the show is.
But when you glance at Yuji, he’s focused on the screen, confusion and maybe even a little bit of discomfort on his face. He’s quiet, splotches of dark blues and reds reflecting across his face until he finally speaks up, voice soft, “That’s not out of love, is it?”
You turn back to face the screen, eyes locking on one of the characters writhing on the bed.
“Um,” You start, evaluating the situation. “No. It’s- it’s not out of love.”
He gives a gentle hum with a nod before falling quiet again.
You sound far away as you laugh nervously and catch the remote in your hands, fast forwarding the scene till it’s over. The images become blurry to Yuji as he unfocuses, mind caught up in the act of doing things without love being the motive. There’s a newfound awareness that resides in his mind, in his heart, that there are so many things out there that might be lacking love.
He refrains from looking towards you.
He doesn’t want to think about it anymore.
Yuji denied it at first. But God is all-knowing, all-seeing.
Yuji loved you just as much as he loved anyone else– he loved everyone. Yet, as the two of you spent more time together, there was just something that rested heavy in the back of his mind that he could not come to terms with. He thought he never would. He thought, maybe, if he tried hard enough, that God would not make him face it either.
It was a feeling. A feeling that grew from that one particular itch in his chest– a feeling that followed him around, crept down his back, up around his neck and mouth until he was at a loss for words whenever he looked at you.
He knew he was in trouble when he spotted his friend, tousled black hair and small golden chain circling around his wrist at the grocery store. Fate is unstoppable.
You had asked Yuji to come grocery shopping with you so that he could pick out what he wanted to eat for the week. He couldn't do anything but agree. But, Yuji thinks that even if he had disagreed, Megumi still would've found him.
While you're looking over your rumpled little grocery list, Yuji swallows the lump in his throat so that his nervousness doesn’t seep through his voice. “How ‘bout I, uh, go get the things I want real quick? I’ll meet you back in the produce section.”
There’s a short silence as you look up from your list and into his eyes, registering what he said. He cuts you off before you can even start, “I won’t take long.”
I’ll come back, I promise.
He thinks he played it off smooth, thinks you won’t notice the way his finger is strung onto his golden chain as he drags it back and forth. You’ve never seen him touch his ‘halo’, ever. You know him too well at this point, and even coming to terms with that fact has your chest swelling with something unspeakable.
“Okay,” Is all you say, soft and tender like you want to tell him you hope he’s okay. Just the tone of your voice has him short circuiting, hesitating to step back and leave you all alone in front of the chips display.
He lingers for a moment, eyes full with an emotion you think might be similar to what blooms in your ribcage. And then he’s backing away, turning around to head off and fetch what he wants, and even though he’s only walking away from you in a grocery store, you can’t help but feel like there’s something more to it. He’s bound to walk away at some point. As you push your cart to the pasta aisle, you really think about how he has been crafted by God and you are not the match for him.
Yuji approaches Megumi a few aisles down, knowing he’d trail off there– an angel’s intuition. He walks towards him with a sort of drag in his step.
“Hey, Megs,” He starts casually, eyeing the boy in human form. Yuji's lips quirk up as he reads over Megumi’s t-shirt.
“Didn’t know you, uh, liked The Cure.”
Megumi clenches his jaw.
“You need to come back.”
Yuji tries playing dumb, eyes scanning over the shelves of food like he’s going to pick something out, like Megumi is an old college friend he happened to cross paths with in the store, like there’s no deeper meaning to the situation. He tries to play dumb like a human does. Megumi thinks, for a second, that Yuji does play the role of a human pretty well.
He wouldn't ever tell him that, though.
“Come back?” Yuji asks lightheartedly, as if the sight of Megumi and his greeting sentence didn't make him feel scared for his life.
It would be one thing if God confronted Yuji on a one-on-one basis. If God were to be the first to move its chess piece, waiting for the move Yuji will make in return.
But God is peering down at Yuji from the other side of the chessboard, beckoning him to start the play. It’s all in Yuji’s hands, now.
Yuji now knows that his inner dilemma regarding you has been cast out into Heaven like it’s some sort of soap opera, similar to the ones he watches with you. He’d feel much better if only God knew- but Megumi knows. And if Megumi knows, then so does Nobara. And if the both of them know, then it’s more than likely that every angel he’s ever brushed past is aware of the situation.
He knows that Megumi has come to save him out of fear. It was Megumi’s choice to touch down on the Earth and track down his best friend to save him before it was too late. And the thought of that, too, made Yuji feel something he’s not sure he’s ever felt before– queasy.
Like heavy goop spun in the center of his stomach slowly, tantalizingly.
“You’ve been here for far too long,” Megumi starts, eyes narrowing, “In that place for too long.”
“Place?” Yuji snips back, expression ridden with irritation as Megumi lets the words leave his lips with only a little bit of disgust.
“It’s not just some place, Megs,” Yuji defends.
“It’s my—” Home.
“Your what?” His friend pushes, eyebrows raising to encourage him. He knows that once Yuji says it, his fate is sealed and he’d be pulled away from you forever.
“It’s nothing,” he quickly decides, retracting from his previous statement as his attitude dissolves. “I’ll go back, soon.”
“Soon.”
“Yes, soon,” Yuji says exasperatedly, tired of Megumi pushing him into a confession that would change both your life and his. “I’m going back,” he repeats to reassure Megumi, and maybe to reassure himself as well. If he were to be honest, he hadn’t really thought about when he’d head back to Heaven. He never thought about it after you had asked him to stay.
“Okay,” Megumi says with hesitance, like he doesn’t believe his friend.
And out of spite, he adds, “Don’t go falling for that– that human, Yuji. Come back home.”
Megumi turns on his heel and walks away, rounding the corner of the aisle, and as much as Yuji wants to follow after him and give him the lecture of his life– the they’re different lecture– he knows the boy is already gone. If he wanted to track him down, he’d have to chase him down in Heaven.
At home.
Yuji mentally reminds himself where his home is, where it’s always been, but his heart knows better.
When he catches up with you, seeking you out in the produce section, a sudden feeling of serenity washes over him, gently and slowly as his eyes focus on you. He gets the feeling that it’s okay– it’s okay that God knows, that Megumi knows, that the entirety of Heaven knows that he has overstayed his welcome. Because although the Earth may reject him, and the Heavens will pull with tooth and nail to get him back, you will always be there. You’ll be there– waiting in the produce aisle, picking veggies. You’ll be at home, cooking up something he mentioned he liked. You’ll be at the bookshop, sorting out different books you think might help him in understanding the human world a little more.
Perhaps, you’ll be there, welcoming him with love?
You bring him back to Earth with a soft little hey, almost like you’re shy. Yuji thinks that he can think about all of that later. For now, he can focus on you. He dumps all of the things he said he’d get into the cart as he tries to smoothly, flirtatiously shoot out a “Hey yourself.”
It makes you laugh. Quietly, given that the both of you are in the middle of the store, but you laugh.
And, Yeah, Yuji thinks. Maybe you’ll be there to greet him with love.
Time is running out, and Yuji is getting desperate.
He knows that he doesn’t have an actual time limit, knows that there is no specific hour and minute that he must go back to Heaven– but he knows that the longer he drags this out, the more painful his punishment will be. He has strayed from God’s word, from his original purpose, as now his entire life revolves around you, and more recently, loving you.
The boy is torn.
Day in and day out, he shows his love to you in ways he thinks you’ll understand. He’s learned enough from his little observations to try and practice, to convey his feelings for you. His heart is set on you. All he wants is to make that clear.
He’d like to hold your hand more often– and not just when you’re guiding him through a crowd, or leading him to a store. He wants to hold your hand simply because he can. Wants to hold your hand on the couch, in the subway, across the dinner table. And he does. He’s shy at first, looking at you for any sign of discomfort, but he gets his green light and holds your hand. Whenever. Just because he can. Because he wants to.
He shares his food with you (again). Helps you comb your hair. Tries to help you pick which outfit you should wear for a picnic. Offers to carry you when your feet get tired from all that walking and exploring (you’re too shy to take up the offer, so instead, you lean against him completely as you walk and he steadies you). Wipes the crumbs off your lips. Sometimes, he even thinks about picking them off with his own lips– or maybe his tongue? Eats the candy you don’t like, so that you don't have to toss it all away and waste it. Holds both of your hands between his hands when they're cold. Helps you put lotion on your back on the days that you’re especially tired and don't wanna reach. His face gets warm as he does this, your bare back exposed to him as you press a towel to your front and wrap one around your lower body. Gives you space when you ask, and bundles up with you on the couch if you ask.
With every single one of these things, he’s telling you that he loves you. And at first, as he became more responsive, open and touchy, you thought your mind was only playing tricks on you. You thought that he was only mimicking what he saw on TV and what he learned about the world. You only thought he was doing these things to appear more human.
But, he just is. He’s human– or, almost human. He wants to be human enough to be with you.
You realize this tonight, as he helps you brush your hair out after a shower. You were already tired from a stressful day at work, and as you arrived home to Yuji you mumbled that you'd skip dinner and just go to sleep. But he caught you before you could dive into the comfort of your bed, pulling you closer into him as he mumbled into your hair to let him help you take care of yourself.
You were drained, nearly falling asleep in the shower as the warm water kissed your skin, lulling you. It took forever to move– to scrub, to rinse, to clean your hair. A tired part of your heart wanted to ask Yuji for help, but a sensible corner of your mind told you that you probably shouldn't.
Not that you were uncomfortable with the idea, but a part of you was nervous– what would he say, what would he think? Would he think you’re showing him a tainted world, trying to muddle his light by asking him to step in and help? To let this angel see you undressed, touch your bare skin, let you slump against him in the heat.
Lazily, you managed to get clean and turn off the shower.
Yuji hears your muffled voice call for him from the bathroom. He’s a little nervous, perhaps the good kind of nervous, as he approaches the bathroom.
You open the door and it's a little foggy, the heat clouding you both and giving you a little bit of a glow. You smile sheepishly up at him and he can only blush back, a warm feeling sneaking up his spine, over his shoulders and down his chest.
“Can you…” You start, gesturing towards the bottle of pretty scented lotion on the bathroom counter. “Can you help me? And… my hair, too…”
You sound so sleepy. Yuji just wants to wrap you up in his arms and sleep beside you.
He sits you down on the toilet, warming up the cream between his hands before running his palms down your arms, around your shoulders. He notices your towel dropping lower and lower down your chest and makes sure not to look.
He sits on his knees and kneads the lotion onto your legs, making you laugh when he slathers it all over your feet. You apologize for giggling and twitching but then playfully remind him You’re my angel after all, you must look over me. It's not a demand, only some gentle banter, but Yuji thinks (and is too nervous to voice) that he would take care of you regardless. Angel, human, demon– he would watch over you time and time again.
You get up and turn around so that he can help moisturize as much of your upper back as he can, swallowing nervously as your towel slips lower and lower. And before it can travel dangerously low, before he thinks he feels his temperature rising, before he can comment on just exactly how hot the bathroom is (which would be a first– he’s not very sensitive to temperature) you’re weakly skipping into your room to slip on some pajamas.
You're not gone for long, coming back so he can help you with your hair.
The mirror starts clearing up, steam fading away as he carefully runs a comb through the damp strands, careful to not yank on your head and to make sure the bristles don't bite at your ears. You’re reading the back of soap bottle label to keep your thoughts occupied, to keep you from thinking about how nice this is, to keep you from thinking about how much you love this, how much you love him—
Yuji quietly announces that he’s finished, and out of some newfound courage, he circles around to face you and presses a kiss to the top of your head.
The both of you freeze, the moment feeling far too intimate and normal and right, like the two of you belong together.
He steps back, sort of dumbfounded by his own actions, opening his mouth to apologize. He tries to come up with an excuse fast, thinks of playing dumb and telling you he saw it in a movie and thought maybe he should try, as if he doesn't know the meaning behind such an action.
But you only smile bashfully at him, take his hand in yours, and tell him, “Let’s go sleep.”
After all, you knew that he knew what it meant.
It’s the first time that Yuji has ever laid in the same bed as you, and it pains him. It pains him because you look so comfortable, clinging onto his arm, and he knows he cannot stay. His little silent love confession earlier had spoken for itself. He knows he can't push it off for any longer, knows that he must reap what he sows. Carefully, he pries you off of himself, stopping his movement for a moment to get one last look at you. And he thinks, well, it wouldn't hurt to do it one more time, right? Since he’s going to face punishment, may as well do it anyway.
Yuji smiles at your sleeping form, leans forward, and kisses the top of your forehead. His voice is cracked and dry as he weakly mutters an I love you against your skin, another confession that’ll reach you in your dream tonight.
He makes his way out of your bedroom and plants himself in the living room, in front of the couch. Yuji kneels, elbows resting on the couch cushions as he shuts his eyes and prays. He prays, and prays, and prays– and then he’s gone.
The living room is quiet, and empty. You’re alone in your apartment again.
And Yuji lies, draped at the feet of God.
Yuji confesses, unabashedly, to his creator.
He loves you. He loves you in the way that humans do. He tells God nervously that he loves you in a way that he’s not sure he’s supposed to, but he does, anyway.
And through confession, God is forgiving.
Yuji's not sure what’s going to happen. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to know. He doesn't want to think about it– about his actions, about God, about what’s coming for him. Even if and when (he suspects) he faces pain, he just wants to think about you.
His mind feels muddy and weird and every single memory he has becomes warbled, and he's grabbing at his hair and cradling his head at the feet of God. He’s not sure what's happening, and then, he’s not exactly sure where he is. But his silent wish is granted, because as all these things he knows start fading away, he sees you clearly. He sees you, you, and you, and his heart feels so happy. And he stays happy, even as he feels like he’s tripping and spiraling into some sort of darkness.
It’s dark. He’s quiet. He’s asleep.
Yuji wakes but doesn't open his eyes, tries to think about what's going on. There are clear images and memories of you upfront in his mind, but all of his other memories seem distant and hard to grasp, like an oncoming sneeze that never releases. Flashes of light, of people he thinks he knows… he’s not sure. Scruffy black hair, short and smooth orange hair. Robes, gowns, soft cushioning on the ground that nearly feels like clouds….. he can't put his finger on it.
When he opens his eyes, he’s laying on a couch in a living room. Your living room, he realizes. He scrambles to get up, to situate himself, and when he sees you sleepily creep out of your room, he dashes towards you.
Within seconds, his hands are all over you, awkward and clumsy, unsure of where to stay until you guide them to cup your cheeks. His lips are on yours, and he’s leaning into you so intensely that you have to grab onto his biceps to balance yourself. You sigh into the kiss, happily so.
Everything clicks for him. He knows he’s meant to be here. He’s got this faded idea, some faded memory that regards him being different than you, but he wastes no time to dwell on it now. He can think and talk about it later.
You kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and then kiss some more. He’s devouring you– kissing you slow, then kissing you fast, then peppering kisses all over your face. He’s no longer afraid to try out everything he’s seen.
When he finally pulls away to let the both of you breathe (for some reason, he feels his lungs begging for air– an unfamiliar feeling) you laugh shakily, on the verge of asking him heaps of questions.
But then his stomach rumbles. It rumbles, something that you're sure has never happened before, and Yuji says so naturally like he’s felt it his whole entire life, “God– I’m so hungry.”
The two of you cook, then eat, then kiss some more. He gets up a few times to pee. Later on, he burps shyly into his curled up hand. He tells you he’s a little cold, asks you to come over and let him hold you (for the sake of warming up).
And you know– you know, with all your heart, that he’s yours. He’s yours for forever, for however long the two of you will live.
Later on that night, you thank the Heavens.
#itadori yuji#itadori yuuji#itadori x reader#yuji x reader#itadori yuji x reader#yuji fluff#itadori fluff#itadori yuji fluff#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yuuji x reader#itadori yuuji x reader
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Shizuroth, part nineteen
Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen
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Finally, finally, finally, after the shopping has been done, and his stupid signature leather jacket has been adjusted, and Genesis has given his final bitchy warning about not acting out of character, finally… Sephiroth can have some peace and quiet.
Some day off! Not that the sparring wasn't great, and the clothes were frankly desperately needed, even if he couldn't make his usual colours fit right. All that aside though, he really needs time to himself! There's still so much to figure out! And he really needs to meditate. He needs to sort himself out! And he also, probably, needs to make use of Shinra's archive and records and study some history.
He also really needs a proper mirror in his little single room apartment. The bathroom mirror isn't enough to appreciate the new clothes. To think he used to hate dressing up formally as Shen Yuan. The difference of a few years as Peak Lord makes! And admittedly, Shen Yuan could've never looked anywhere near as good as Sephiroth in a suit like this. Sephiroth, really, looks just too good. Fit for a thousand magazine covers. Which is fitting because he's pretty sure Sephiroth has been on magazine covers back on earth! Which is kinda weird from this perspective! Famous in another world sounds like a damn isekai light novel title.
Ah, but then his whole life is a mockery of the genre.
Dropping his shopping bags by the wardrobe and his new coats over its door, Sephiroth throws himself on his couch and sighs, running a hand through his long bangs.
He has clothing, his room still needs some improvements and will never be Qing Jing Peak, but it will do. Those were the easiest things to cover, really, and now that they're done, now that he's spent several hours getting used to this body and how it looks and who he's supposed to be… the world he's now part of…
Is he really just going to be Sephiroth from here on out? Is he supposed to forget PIDW and Binghe and Cang Qiong Mountain Sect? Just go on being Sephiroth, and put Shen Qingqiu behind him?
… He really isn't sure he can, actually! In a way, Shen Qingqiu had suited him better than Shen Yuan had. Well, once the OOC restrictions had come off and he was free to be himself, anyway. Being a soldier, a super SOLDIER at that, with alien DNA and the lifeblood of the planet in his guts…
Resting a hand on his stomach, Sephiroth tugs at the blood red shirt he has on.
It's… really a bit like he's Binghe now. He's an alien hybrid thing here, so it's kind of like being a half demon! Or, ah, weirdly accurate biblical angel? What with the angel wing motif these games have going for themselves… Sephiroth's final form was kinda eldritch, from what he recalls. Wings sticking out every which way. Ridiculous and over the top in a way only Final Fantasy can be!
Damn but he hopes he can grow wings at some point. That would be just so cool, he doesn't even care how ludicrous it would get. The whole thing about wings being cause for existential monster angst is a thing he probably would need to consider, but, seriously. Wings! Yes, please, thank you!
It's the lifeblood of the planet that bothers him the most. Not just because of the oil allegory.
It's also how the local reincarnation cycle works. Though it's more like a spiritual composting rather than straight up reincarnation - but still! The energy pumped into his veins comes from the souls of dead things.
Yeah, he can't ignore that anymore.
Sitting up, Sephiroth gets out of the dress pants he'd bought and the button up shirt, switching back to the more comfortable pyjama pants and t-shirt he started the day with. He takes a moment to put purchases away and tidy his room up to peak Feng Shui before sitting down on his bed.
The energy in his gut is thick, massive and near immovable. He'd read up on Mako as much as there was to be read on his phone. The cycle went something like Lifestream to Mako to Materia - so, in the right conditions, the stuff actually crystallises. So, in a way, Materia is spirit stones! And that's kinda what it feels like in his gut - like his energies are condensing, hardening under pressure… crystallising. Except not into a golden core, nah, just one big shapeless lump of dead-weight-energy.
Well, not on his watch!
Relaxing and breathing in and then slowly out, Sephiroth thinks about all the Cultivation tricks he learned cultivating with damaged spiritual veins and incurable poison. Here he kind of has the opposite problem than with Shen Qingqiu, though - Sephiroth's spiritual veins aren't worn and fragile, they're hardened, like… scar tissue. He really feels a bit burnt on the inside!
Shinra's method was all quantity over quality where it comes to this stuff. Brute forcing their way into a semi-functional magic system, and who cares if it scorches the earth when there's instant profit to be made!
What a truly subtle metaphor.
Well… Shen Qingqiu has worked with worse - and at least there's a lot to work with! So as long as Sephiroth manages to avoid the Qi-deviation of the century, he will have one hell of a golden core! Just gotta not burn himself inside out! No pressure!
Qi Condensation stage - done! He couldn't have done better himself. Foundation Establishment, however… yeah. Sephiroth really has a great body, but it is not prepared for a Golden Core Formation. His energy flow is all whack.
No wonder he cracked like an egg at the slightest bit of mental pressure… a bit like the original goods Shen Qingqiu, really, with his many Qi-deviations.
Right. Never mind that! He has a lot of work and not all the time in the world, alas. No seclusion training in this world!
Time to get to it.
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Echoing Troubles
Note || warmup to get me into writing after taking a few days of a break, uhhh this was a request but Tumblr deleted it.
WC || 549
sypnosis || People say great power would mean great responsibility, you weren't one of those people.
Sincerely, being pulled into a plan of wickedness and monsters was the last thing you planned on your card, it wasn’t even on your card at all. You just wanted the madness and torment to stop, having to constantly go through puzzles, figuring out how to get through obstacles standing in your way.
Safe to say, you were nearly this close to be up and done with things. All this adrenaline and running would in no way be a healthy thing for someone like you, you weren’t a fighter, let alone a marathon runner.
Even being pulled one inch into the web of lies and fabrication, would you ask, ‘Where in the icy seven rings of hell did Elliot Ludwig have the idea to found the very grounds infamously known as Playtime Co?’
Oh absolutely.
You want nothing more for this to end, to end it all for the toys being put through the endless insanity and eternity of torment brought on by the Prototype. But you were just an employee, what more could you be left with to say? To do?
Having your own problems, one might say magicks and the like would put a whole realm of burdens on one’s shoulders.
When people wished they were gifted, they would always single you out as someone who says you never wanted the gift of superpowered abilities. You always kept yourself safe and hidden, keeping to yourself and being silent and lonely, knowing full well what may happen should your physic ability be revealed. But it never came to be, unluckily compared to that one fateful day or night all because of working at Playtime Co.
Let’s be straight and open here, you have an ability to see things that happen as they were meant to originally, and finite. You try to find a way to twist it if it is within your capabilities to go against the real reality of things.
You simply couldn’t cope with this fact, having to take medication for your stress and anxiety, a whole load of things you wouldn’t bear to unload on another. Just for a mere second if your head were to turn the other way, the tables would turn on you.
Yes, keeping this power was something you had done all your life. But now, you had to end up putting it to use, all because you couldn’t bear something happening to DogDay. His original fate that was set in place for him, you defied it with the whole of your heart.
You thought he needed to live, he deserved better.
You just weren’t sure how you should answer his question.
“What?..”
DogDay sighed immediately upon your recall, casting you a forlorn as he asked once more, “Angel.. Ah, I just, why save me in the first place?” He tilted his head, standing in place as you two were in an elevator right now.
It was taking exceedingly long to get to the top, you simply couldn’t brush off the question that easily. You really didn’t want to answer his question, why the hell was the elevator taking this long. Prolonging the silence, you tapped your foot, lips pursed in a self approved silence to think about it for a moment.
Should you tell him the truth…
Or just lie?
[Want to join the Taglist the next time I post any writing pieces? Let me know!]
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Haruhi and her frogin freind are out shopping together
How would three character of the host club be when they stalking them!
You and Haruhi have finally gotten together after so long. Traveling with your father’s business you’ve met quite a few people in your travels: karate masters, a flamboyant blonde, a really persuasive guy with glasses, and so many more. But nothing is like the market in your hometown or rather one of your hometowns.
Unbeknownst to you and Haruhi, the Ouran Host Club can’t help but follow after the mysterious person they met just last Summer.
Tamaki Suoh
“What a surprise the damsel we’ve been talking about happens to be here! Charge onward!”
He’s too excited and far too loud about his ambitions to follow you
Their ‘king’ isn’t exactly the best at covert operations despite his inclination for them
And if you or Haruhi don’t already know he’s there one of you will find him out
If it's you, you’ll call him asking ‘what brings you here?’
And he happily will join you two
Buying whatever he sees your eyes linger on
even if it's only a moment
When the day finally ends and you wave goodbye to make sure Haruhi gets home he waits for you
Now Tamaki Suoh could very well stay away from you watching protectively as you get home
But he’s too much of a gentleman to let you go alone
Or that he absolutely feeds off of your attention
Even if you originally refuse he won’t let you he’ll still escort you
Even attempting to invite himself inside but when he notices your frantic breathing and darting eyes he excuses himself
Making a show of driving away before instructing that they return in a couple hours
“My poor angel! All alone in such poverty! I just have to make sure they sleep well!”
Kyoya Ootori
“I’d also appreciate an in-depth look at their…personal life.”
He has to control his excitement with a push of his glasses
Typically he’d leave such a job to his…hired help
He gets plenty of updates from them but nothing beats getting the facts of his future spouse from ground zero
If he wasn’t so pretty and such a smooth talker it might have been easier not to be swarmed
But eventually, he gets a disguise good enough that he can continue to silently follow after
He’s sloppy because he hasn’t done this before or rather its been a while since he has
But he manages to maintain his cover
Making sure to make note of your conversation and preferences as you stop for food or buy different items
When the day ends he tails you from a distance by driver as he notes the safety of your route and neighborhood
Being sure to complain threaten the city council about the lack of lighting in specific alleyways
Of course, he will collect the Ootori photographers’ work for the day and decide which one he wants for his calendar, his wallet, his corkboard, his office wall, his bedside, his ceiling
“I’ve seen enough of their common lifestyle, it's time I elevated that. After all, we can’t have my love of all people being forced to live so below their means.”
Hikaru Hitachiin
“Well, aren’t you two cuties looking happy today!”
He’s already an avid stalker of yours
Now Haruhi is so used to this behavior she can wave it off calming any suspicions you have when you recall how this same situation occurred once before
Just like he planned
But now there's no shaking him off now
He’s following the both of you all throughout the day
Being sure to pick off your food with the toothpick that you’d been sucking on
Or being sure to lick the strokes on your popsicle you bought just moments before
Taking every opportunity to pull at your fingers whenever he wants to look at a ‘commoner’s’ stall
He’s even walking you home
Actually, he’s decided he wants a sleepover
You can’t refuse him, can you?
Because he does have that photo of you
How’d he get it? He’ll never tell
But you best cook him some commoner alternative to Italian cuisine
Otherwise, you’ll just have to pack up and come to his house
“Don’t forget (Y/n)~ you owe me for destroying this picture~! So what’s it going to be?”
Kaoru Hitachiin
“Hey, I’m glad I ran into you here! Been trying to widen my horizons and decided to try the commoner’s market! Mind if I hang out with you guys?”
He’s a lot more casual
Having a bonafide reason why he’s here
You would have never guessed he had bugged your phone when you last met
He’s great at acting casual
Oddly less mischievous without his brother
It's easy to oblige when he asks you to pose a ring for him
‘Don’t worry about it! It's for a friend of his!’ is what he says
Or when he asks about what you like off-handedly returning with it in hand from a supposed bathroom break
He’ll walk you and Haruhi home
So nice you only think it nice to offer your bathroom for the long drive he was in for on the way home
He couldn’t be happier to see the forgotten clothes strewn in your bathroom in person
Or letting the water run while he holds your toothbrush in his mouth then switch it with his decoy
“Thanks for spending your day with me! We’ve got to schedule one of around one of these days, preferably just the two of us!”
Mitsukuni “Honey” Haninozuka
“(Y/n)-channn!!! Come try this commoner food! It really is delicious!”
Honey has two stalking styles the silent type that makes use of his ninja prowess
And the type that just abandons watching you from afar entirely
He typically resorts to the former when you're out with potential rivals
Sabotaging every way he can before he results to pummeling the problem this person
But this time, it's personal
Haruhi is his friend but you are his future his sweetie cake just ripe for the taking
And while with most friends he doubts you’d be interested as he’s pretty confident they get the memo
But he knows Haruhi just draws people in that way
And he will not let that happen
So every time you go to look into her eyes he’s shoving ice cream, cake, tarts, his face in between you two
It's so much like his normal personality so neither of you questions it
It's also nothing to question when he walks you home before letting himself inside to give you whatever sweet you like
If you don’t like sweets he’s just bringing cake that he can invite himself to eat it
You can’t really stop him when he insists on exploring your home as if he didn’t already memorize where everything is
Moving faster than you can grab a hold of him he might let you go if you hug him+
“Wowww (Y/n), your house is so small! Y’know you should come to my house, it's way bigger! You can even have your own room at my place!”
Takashi Morinozuka
“...I didn’t want to disturb you two.”
He’s really good at this
Athleticism and stealth when he really tries give him the advantage
The only thing that can throw him off his game is you
He either gets lost as he watches you gush over a keychain or a stall you were particularly passionate about
So busy swooning silently that he’ll hardly notice when Haruhi finally taps him awake
With him, she’s the only one who can quite obviously tell
And since Mori has hardly shown any worrisome behavior she invites him
He’s so excited to be noticed by you
And will enthusiastically nod his head whenever you talk to me
Probably offered by Haruhi he’ll walk you home
Only now speaking more than he typically would
He can’t help but blush as he sees you continue to look at him only him
When he bids you goodnight he’ll stand in front of your home for awhile
Intensely watching your silhouette pad around in the window as you start your nightly routine
Imagining himself alongside you after his timer goes off he leaves reluctantly
Switching out with his subordinates
“Goodnight, (Y/n).”
#yandere ouran highschool#yandere ouran host club x reader#yandere ohshc#yandere ohshc x reader#yandere tamaki x reader#yandere tamaki suoh#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yandere kyoya#yandere kyoya ootori#yandere mori x reader#yandere honey#yandere mitsukuni#yandere hikaru#yandere kaoru#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere harem#yandere ouran host club headcannons
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Title: The Fallen and The Falling (aka TF & TF)
Pairing: Adam / Lucifer
Author: Cursed Mod
Rating: PG
Word Count: 714
Summary: (A Drabble Compilation Probably)
This is one of many parts of an ongoing series that I'm writing about Lucifer and Fallen Adam. Other character and ships may appear. Who knows. I sure don't.
Warnings: Features aspects of Folk Catholicism specifically of the Latin American variety. Mild body horror and nonconsensual body modification.
No, this isn't beta'd or edited. Enjoy and ignore the formatting I'm on my phone.
~
Dust settled and the celebrations were in full swing, yet there was a stillness in the air immediately around Lucifer despite all of the faint music and chatter around the hotel and the city as a whole. This was what it was like to be winner, but the taste of victory was bittersweet on his tongue. There was still something he felt needed to do.
Lucifer allowed his feet to take him where they'd left Adam's body with a simple sheet covered him, though a breeze had started blowing that away. This was when Lucifer realized that this need was absolutely morbid, especially when he sat down next to the body. His intention to pull the sheet back over, maybe recite some words or humor heaven with the proper prayers. Something nice, something respectful. Maybe cover the body in a little bit of dirt before some cannibal came around to eat it.
Instead, he found himself marveling at Adam's face. The man looked as he always had, from the moment He formed him from the warm clay of the earth. Lucifer gently started tracing the slopes and curves on Adam’s face, was it wrong to admire such delicate work? Was it wrong to want to feel for the fingerprints of the Maker himself?
Adam's face still felt so soft and warm. He looked as though he were just sleeping off a long night, not devoid of the precious gift of life. Lucifer hummed as his traced Adam's soft lips, then skipped up to poke the tip of his nose, then slid his fingers to tap his closed eyelids and swooped his hand to push his hair back.
That was when the clay softened, and to his horror and amusement, horns grew peeking up from the soft locks, like those of a lamb. That was... probably not good.
Naturally, through his slight and growing panic he kept messing with Adam's structure, oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck! This was not what he wanted. He patted down the horns and held his hands down to make sure that they didn't pop back up, only for them to shift and change larger following his hands as he pulled them away. Lucifer grimaced and decided to pull the sheet right back over Adam’s face again. Maybe if he pretended it didn't happen nobody will know what he’d done. He glanced upward; half-expecting that thought to be challenged immediately but it wasn't.
“You’re a real fucking pain, you know that?” Lucifer said, dusting his hands off, the warm sticky feeling of clay bothering his hands. He more or less used the opportunity to wipe his hands on the sheet as he tucked it in under Adam more securely, “You know, it's funny. This might be the first time you've ever been tucked in.”
Why was he talking to the dead guy now? It was probably just nerves. Definitely, only nerves. On top of that, Adam’s body still felt warm. Was it because he was clay? Lucifer certainly did not recall Lilith ever feeling like that, nor was he responsible for her changes when they were cast down. Maybe it was because she never died. Lucifer settled into a kneeling position before Adam his pride clawing at him not to do this, but guilt overwhelmed him. He looked upwards again and folded his hands in the way that all perfect angels should.
“So…” Lucifer glanced around, as if somebody was going to show up and tell /him/ he was praying wrong. “Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine.” He squinted harder upwards, “Do.. Do I do the response myself or…?”
Lucifer froze, his back tingled with a soul dropping chill, something was happening, he stayed frozen. He knew praying was a goddamn mistake even as a joke. There was a brightness about himself that clashed with the warmth exuding from Adam.
Then he heard the response, it came from under the sheets bored reciting of it at that. “Et lux perpetua luceat eis. Fidelium animae, per misericodiam Dei, requiescant in pace. Amen.”
Adam’s body sat up and immediately their foreheads crashed into each other with a forced that knock them both back from each other.
There was silence, and then there was screaming.
#hazbin hotel#lucifer x adam#adamsapple#adam x lucifer#lucifer#adam#hazbin hotel fanfiction#Bible fanfiction?#nunalastor writes#hazbin hotel adam#adam hazbin hotel#fanfic
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that's unexpected. | n. kento
synopsis | nanami kento was the most secretive person in your office, to find out one of his biggest secrets was something you never expected.
warnings | non-sorcerer!au, office!au, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, nanami is in his late 20’s to early 30’s), nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni!), bit of a slow burn, fem/afab!reader, camboy!nanami, dom!nanami, masturbation (f/m), using of pet names (angel, darling, & the likes), sir kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation (f), dacryphilia, dirty talking, size kink, hand kink, degradation, praise kink, and unprotected sex (don’t do this irl for the love of god)
a/n | alright, who’s ready for this to go down? haha camboy!nanami will forever live in my head. also !! a big shout out and thanks to @l0serloki & @bunnyyamor for helping me gain confidence in writing this because i would have NEVER even thought abt posting it T___T credits to the original artist of the nanami fanart i have used in the banner.
word count: 5.4k (haha whoops got carried away)
nanami kento was the most secretive person in your office. no one really bothers him aside from gojo satoru from the finance department of the company that you work in.
the man was a total mystery for everyone since he tends to be more reserved than most. despite this however, he was a total heartthrob for everyone; tall, muscular, polite, and drop-dead gorgeous? yeah there’s no doubt that people would line up for his attention.
you, on the other hand, strayed away from him. not because you wanted to be different, you were just too intimidated by his presence. he was your senior in the company by eight years and the last thing you want is for anyone to have your head for being the new girl in the office trying to score with the hottest guy.
the work you do was draining enough already.
it was another day at work and you were just about to lose it. your team’s manager tasked you to photocopy a bunch of files needed for an emergency meeting to be held in the afternoon but the xerox machine decided to be a little bitch and jam mid-printing. the missed calls from your boss only adding pressure as your shaky hands try your best to fix the contraption.
“need help?” a voice mumbled from behind you, causing you to jump just a bit and turn to the source.
your eyes widened a bit to see nanami staring down at you with the same unreadable expression he sports every day. “o-oh! mr. nanami, i’m okay! just… having paper jam problems, is all.” you sputter out, mentally cursing yourself for being so obvious about your nerves with him.
he silently shrugs you off and shakes his head, a hand reaching over to place on your shoulders so he can go to the machine and pull out the jammed paper with ease. “you can call me kento, you know.” he mumbles softly. “you’ve been in the office for over a year now but i can’t recall having a conversation with you.”
he catches you off-guard at that statement, making you choke on air. luckily, the last paper you were photocopying was done and you grabbed it along with other copies stacked, “our… schedules never really collided! we can have a conversation soon, mr. na- kento!” you bid him a swift goodbye, bowing as you hurry off.
you were internally panicking, practically fighting with yourself as you walk away, pondering if it was better to just accept the earful from your manager with one missing copy just so the incident with kento never happened. him, on the other hand despite his emotionless exterior, was bewildered at how much you tried to avoid him.
and even if it wasn’t like him to pry into others but you caught his attention.
—
“satoru, do you know (y/n)?” nanami asks the white-haired man as they both exit the building. his run-up with you still unable to leave his mind. the nervous image of yours planted into his brain.
gojo looks at him in disbelief that he would finally ask about someone around the office. “you mean (y/n) (l/n)? yeah i know her! she’s really sweet and friendly, actually.” he answers truthfully, looking back at the time you and him were seatmates at a seminar for the whole company and how you catered his talkative ass the whole time and managed to still pay attention to the speaker in front. “she brings me the cookies she bakes from time to time. why’d you ask? have the hots for her?”
the blonde stares at the latter with unamusement. “just talked to her earlier, i don’t know but she seemed to avoid me. we’ve been working under the same department in administration but i’ve barely heard her voice.” he admits, actually curious why you’re so avoidant of him when you manage to befriend satoru.
unable to help his laugh, gojo pats his friend’s back and shrugs. “maybe it’s more of a you thing rather than her, (y/n)’s friendly.” he says and picks up his pace. “here’s my stop, have fun wondering why she avoids you, nanamin!”
—
you were drained, all you wanted to do was sprawl on your bed and wonder why you put up with the job that you’re in.
removing the tortuous heels you’ve been wanting to take off, you take a deep sigh of relief as your feet hit the solid floor. dragging your body towards your room and sprawling out on the comfort of your bed. you almost moaned at the contact of your aching back against the foam of your bed.
managing to slip off most of your clothes, you were left in just your button up and underwear; the only thing on your mind on right now to further release tension made you open your phone and searched for a website where you can get off to camboys, scrolling through different ones until you come across one that looks a tad bit too familiar.
sitting up a bit, you stare at the muscular body and the all too familiar voice and slacks that slapped your senses back into place. despite his face being hidden behind a mask, you knew it was nanami! the very person you actively tried to avoid was live… stroking himself for the whole of the internet to see.
your sensible side was begging for you to stop and scroll away, but you were a human with needs too. you could feel yourself slowly drip in arousal as you watch him hungrily paired with the guttural groans he slips off from time to time. it was definitely him.
“mhm, that’s right baby, stroke yourself for daddy.” the words he spoke hitting directly in between your legs. feeling his dominance, you just opted to follow and let your neediness take over.
sliding your hand south slowly, you moaned quietly at the slightest friction of your fingers as you slowly rubbed your clit. nanami’s voice was all that you could hear, matching his pace as your eyes focus on his digits, it seemed so big, so perfect to fill you up. you’ve noticed how big his hands were when he helped you just today, but never has a dirty thought crossed your mind until now.
unable to focus with just one hand, you let go of your phone and continue your ministrations, just hearing your co-worker’s breathy moans and small words of praise was enough to send you over the edge. “nngh, k-kento..” you needily say to no one, dipping your middle and ring finger inside, quietly whining as it fills you up; soon feeling the knot in your stomach slowly starting to tighten.
“mhm, gonna cum soon, baby? that’s my good doll, c’mon, make a mess.” nanami’s voice fills up the room, making you quietly cry out of pleasure as his voice sends you into oblivion.
your eyes looked back at the screen of your phone and you watched as nanami came himself, thick ropes of white coating the tip of his cock and stomach, it was a sight to behold. a godly sight, if anyone was to ask you. but not even the nbi can ever get that information out of you.
you had just fucked yourself to your co-worker’s camboy service; how were you supposed to face him at work tomorrow then?
—
you tried to be stealthy around the office, thankful that your work cubicle was on the literal opposite side of nanami’s, it was easy for you to avoid him and risk blowing your cover about knowing his secret. he was a well-respected man who has serviced the company longer than you and the last thing you want was the gossip to spread like wildfire amongst the hungry-for-him people that surrounded him daily.
the plan you had was simple, stay by your side and avoid him at all costs! it sounded easy in your head, even packing your own lunch this time so the only real opportunity for the two of you to clash was if you had to take a trip to the bathroom.
everything was going smooth until your lunch break, however.
you were confident! with just a few hours left of the work day, your plan would be deemed successful, until gojo satoru came waltzing over with nanami in tow. “oh (y/n)!” the boisterous man had greeted you with a wide grin. “why eat here? someone bothering ya?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you and your food.
the man behind you, honestly. you thought to yourself but you could never say that out loud.
opting to avoid looking at his companion, you turn to gojo and smile at him. “toru! well, i just wanted to eat here. kind of a break from the noise, you know.” you say, internally cringing at how shit your excuse was. in attempt to save yourself, you also motion your computer which was displaying a plethora of files opened. “and i just want to revise on the letters and memorandums that the boss assigned to me, just want to keep things spick and span before i have to pass them by the end of the week.”
satoru suddenly lights up even more, glancing at nanami who just stared you down. clearing his throat, he pulled the blonde forward and patted his back. “nanamin, right here, would love to help! right?” he says, leaving the two of you in shock.
you immediately shake your head as the words gojo spoke finally sink in. “oh! there’s no need! i can manage and i’m pretty sure mr. nanami’s busy too.” you bow a few times as you decline, heart racing as you hope kento would do the same and wack some sense into his friend’s head but instead you were met with him shaking his head.
“it’s okay, (y/n). i have nothing to do anyways, i finished my work for the day already.” he says, grabbing the vacant chair next to you and places himself beside you, motioning you to continue on with your lunch as he takes your work laptop away so he can revise on the current one you’re doing.
you stare at gojo incredulously, unable to formulate words as the blue-eyed man shrugs and silently walk away, leaving you and nanami alone.
cue the awkward silence.
it was unbearable; knowing that if one of your female officemates saw you two together would cause gossip and the weight of being aware of his side job after office hours pestered your thoughts and inner demons to your limits. but considering you had no more say on the matter, you just let him work on what you were doing previously and eat your sandwich in ignorant bliss.
that’s until your eyes landed on the two fingers on the touchpad of your laptop scrolling through the file. the memories and thoughts that took over you last night were back, causing you to choke on your food, making nanami stop and look at you with concern.
“are you okay, (y/n)?” kento asks, placing your laptop back on the table as he pats your back and offers you the water bottle on your desk. his brows were furrowed with concern as you take the bottle and chug down the water, making you a deep gasp for air right after.
taking a few seconds to calm down, you nod. “mhm, just the food going down the wrong pipe.” you manage to crack to lighten the mood between the two of you. if he was doing this much to actually talk to you after yesterday’s photocopy small talk, you probably should make a conscious effort to talk to him too.
“kento? i… i apologize for like… you know avoiding you all the time.” you start off, voice quiet but you can feel the blonde’s intense stare on you. choosing you pick at your fingers rather than look up and meet his gaze. “i’m just intimidated by you, most of the time.” you continue to explain, having the courage to look up and see the corner of his lips upturned to the smallest smile.
“it’s okay, (y/n). i’m just glad it isn’t because of my appearance or something. really thought i did something for you to avoid me as much as you did yesterday.” he admits, placing the laptop back down and flexes his fingers, causing you to spare a quick glance at them again before placing your attention back on him. maybe striking up a conversation with him wasn’t a bad thing at all.
but unfortunately for you, however, nanami kento’s a very observant man and your glance onto his hands didn’t go unnoticed.
—
it was the end of another workday and you were more than glad to go back home and just pass out, but the morbid curiosity of checking to see if nanami was live plagued your mind. it was a bit later in the night as you had to go out and run a few errands of grocery shopping before heading home so the chances seemed lower.
after arriving home and washing up, you were back on your bed, thumb hovering over the browser of your phone to search up if he was active. you shouldn’t, (y/n)! he’s your officemate for fuck’s sake. but you did so well already with hiding it from him today, one more time wouldn’t hurt, right?
the next thing you knew, you were back on the website, heart racing to see if he was active— he definitely was. it seemed to be the start of the stream but he wasn’t wearing his usual slacks anymore, it was gray sweatpants that outlined his dick perfectly and hung low on his hips, exposing his defined abs and v-line.
but what actually caught your attention, was the silver rings that decorated his fingers. combined with the evident veins on his hands and arms, this was like a treat that fed your core. you couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel to have the cold metal kiss your skin as he touches you.
it was all too much, but you couldn’t help but greedily want more, want more of him.
—
a few work days go by and nanami seemed to be drawn to your presence, finding himself gravitating towards you as you treated him the same as you would with any person; unbeknownst to him about your knowledge on the things he does by the time office hours are done.
it’s a beneficial friendship for the both of you; he gets to be left alone by the people who usually pester him to eat with during lunch (with the exception of satoru) and you get to fulfill your dirtiest fantasies by watching him get off whenever you catch him live on stream.
—
it was finally saturday, almost two weeks since you first found out about kento’s secret. you felt proud of yourself for managing to keep it inside for you for this long (with the denying thought that you wanted to gatekeep this information to yourself for as long as you can)
you were making your way home when all of a sudden the rain started pouring, it was harsh and you were drenched in no time. having no other choice, you were forced to find shelter underneath one of the buildings, cursing yourself for not bringing the umbrella you had chosen to leave inside your house when you decided to go out for a walk.
“(y/n)?” someone calls out, and you turn over to see nanami dressed in just sweatpants and a fleece jacket that fit him snug. “what’re you doing here?” he asks, eyeing your figure.
you shot him a sheepish smile, “i wanted to go out and walk for a bit since i’ve been asleep all afternoon. might not be the brightest idea of mine to not bring an umbrella.” you explained, trying your best to keep yourself warm by hugging your arms to yourself.
nanami contemplated letting you into his home; not that he didn’t want you there, he just had business to attend to later into the evening. seeing your freezing frame, however, made him think otherwise. “how about you say here for a bit? i don’t think the rain would let up anytime soon.” he offers, motioning his head to the doors of the apartment complex.
you wanted to decline, you really did. but considering whether you should wait this is one out and probably face hypothermia, maybe accepting his offer was the wisest choice to make.
so you relent, nodding quietly as you walk closer to kento, following him inside the building and into the elevator. “have you invited anyone else from the office over here?” you asked him, genuinely curious to see if he has brought anyone else over.
to your surprise, he shook his head. “just you, (y/n). and satoru, but he’s an unstoppable force of a migraine so i have no other choice.” he says, sighing at the mention of his best friend's persistent and unannounced visits.
it somehow excited you, going inside his apartment and seeing where he would do his business, and it didn’t help that he admitted to not having anyone from the office over aside from gojo; it was like the cards of fate were on your side— even if the odds and chances of him ever opening up the topic were slim to none.
if there was a 0.1% chance it would happen, you would jump on it.
the elevator ride was silent, the awkwardness weighing on your head as you shift from one foot to another as your eyes steadied on both of your reflection against the doors of the lift. it wasn’t helping that you were still cold from being drenched in the rain. “this is us, (y/n).” nanami mumbles quietly as the doors open to his floor, motioning you to get out first.
“i’m not intruding by suddenly coming over, right?” you ask, nipping on your lower lip as you watch the muscles under his shirt flex as reaches for his keys.
he glances back at you before finding the key, shaking his head. “relax, (y/n). i invited you to come over. would’ve declined if i felt you were.” he truthfully says, opening the door and steps to the side, tilting his head to the side and wait for you to enter.
mumbling a soft thanks as you pass by him, you eye the apartment. it wasn’t /that/ fancy but you can definitely see that he was rich. anyone can also tell he liked reading from the multitude of books displayed on the shelf beside the tv. it was definitely an apartment of someone around his age.
“you can wash up in the bathroom, i’ll grab you some spare clothes in my room.” he speaks up, pointing to the door by the end of the hallway. “i’ll just knock when i have them ready.” he finishes, walking briskly into his bedroom.
you head off into the bathroom and wash up, stripping from your clothes to go into the shower and wash off the sticky feeling from being in the rain, sighing in satisfaction as the warmth of the water soothes down your shaking body.
right as you were done, you heard the knocking from the bathroom door. “(y/n)? here’s the clothes.” he calls out. wrapping yourself with the towel, you open up slightly to see him with his arm extended but his face was facing away. “just… find me in the living room after.” he mumbles and walks away as soon as he feels you grab the set of clothing.
briefly slipping into the boxers and the shirt he gave, you walked out and headed for the living room where you saw him sat by the couch, legs sprawled just enough for the dirty thoughts to come right back. his lap seemed so inviting but you had to keep yourself at bay. you were a sudden guest after all.
“would you like some coffee? tea?” nanami says, eyes shamelessly checking you out in his clothes; the way it looked on you causing his dick to stir in his jeans. he felt ridiculous, being turned on by the way you look in his clothes. then again, you didn’t seem to mind his blatant way of eyeing you up and down. nanami is a wise man, he knew and felt if the tension was thick and that was clearly evident with you.
nodding, you sat down by his side; the distance just enough for the two of you not to touch. “if it wouldn’t be such a bother, some coffee would be perfect.” you answer, smiling at him shyly as you get comfortable in the cushions.
feeling his weight lift off from the couch, he looks down at you with his same old stoic expression. “again, you’re my guest so it’s natural for me to try and be a good host. i’ll get us a cup of coffee.” he says, patting your head gently before disappearing into the kitchen.
and you were left alone. alone in nanami kento’s house.
if you were to tell yourself two weeks ago that you were in this current predicament, she would have never believed you. but here you are, eyes wondering around to observe the little trinkets, decor, and overall ambiance of the older man’s place. the curiosity of wanting to know where he films his live but you wanted to respect him and not blow your cover about being aware inside of his own home.
“i’ll find out soon enough, nanami…” you mumble softly as you stretch, unaware that the very owner of the name you just mentioned was just a few feet behind you.
“find you about what?” nanami’s voice startles you, sitting up straight as you turn your body to look at him with eyes as wide as saucers. c’mon get it together, (y/n)! you look like a deer caught in headlights! you cuss to yourself, unable to form any excuse for a few minutes.
kento looked unamused, raising an eyebrow to your direction as he places the two mugs of coffee down on the table. “asked you a question, (y/n). what are you going to find out?” he asks one more time, authority dripping in his tone which sends shivers down your spine. his dominant aura seeping out of him so naturally as he towers over you.
looks like you have no other choice than to come clean.
taking a deep sigh, you start to avoid his gaze, fingers toying with the edge of his shirt. “i… i know, kento.” you admit, voice shy and meek as your heart thrashes around in your chest at the reaction he could have. “i was curious about where you… do things.”
the moment the words left your lips, nanami knew exactly what you meant and honestly, he wasn’t even mad. you treated him the same despite bearing the heavy secret of his work outside of the office hours. you didn’t even gossip around the department about it! you were such a good girl for him that it honestly turned him on more so than feeling invaded.
“and you’ve kept it all this time?” his voice comes out lower than before, stepping closer as one of his digits hook around your chin to lift your face, making you have eye-contact with him. “why’d be so secretive about it, sweet thing?”
sweet thing. motherfucker knows he has you hooked around his finger and you couldn’t help but feel a tad bit frustrated at yourself for being so weak. “because… it felt nice to be the only one to know.” you say, nipping at your bottom lip as your vulnerability slowly shows in front of him.
his free hand snakes around your waist to pull you in, tilting his head lightly as his dark orb stares into yours. “such a good girl for me, yeah? keepin’ my secret and all” he says lowly, leaning in just enough for his lips to ghost the skin of your cheek, breath fanning over your ears. “should i reward you for being a good girl then?”
he hit the spot. he knew exactly what you wanted and you weren’t even ashamed about your body language, hands now gripping the side of his shirt tightly to keep him close to you. “y-yes sir, want you so bad.” you mumble quietly.
that’s everything that nanami needed to hear.
his lips were on yours in a flash, moving in such a slow and intimate way you can’t help but whine just the tiniest bit into the kiss. it drew a low groan from his end, sounding almost primal as he pulled you in tighter, feeling his hardening dick stir against your lower belly. his hands were already underneath your shirt, palming your breasts and pinching your pebbled nipples.
“gonna take you to the room, darlin’” he mumbles, stripping away your shirt before lifting you up with ease as he navigates through his apartment with such expertise. his lips never leave your skin, planting open-kisses to your neck, leaving little nibbles here and there that would probably leave light marks for you to see after all of this.
once reaching his room, you gently tosses you down on his bed, “take a look ‘round and see if this satisfies your curiosity.” he says, motioning to the familiar set up you took in as his background whenever he streams. “could easily open up that camera and fuck you for the whole internet to see, would you like that?” kento asks you, pointing to the camera that was directed at his bed. “as much as i would want that, wanna keep you as mine for tonight.”
the pure filth that was leaving his lips caused your brain to malfunction, unable to form any words from being so overwhelmed already, he shakes his head. “already a dumb baby? how will i fuck you stupid then, little slut?” he tsks, going down on his knees and tugs you to the end of the bed.
easily slipping off the boxers you were wearing, he groans at the sight of your sopping cunt. “such’a good fuckin’ girl for me.” he groans lightly, his big hand gripping at your thigh as his tongue took a teasing kitten lick at your folds, humming at how sweet you tasted for him. “so wet and i haven’t even done anything yet?”
“m-mhm, s’all for you, sir.” you respond, looking down to meet his gaze, your hand slowly reaching over to grip at his hair which earns another groan from him.
“gonna make sure you only know my name by the end of the night.” was the last thing he said before latching onto your clit, tongue swirling around your clit. his free hand ghosting against your hole, middle and ring finger gathering enough of your arousal before dipping in, filling you quite well.
your hips buck up as you feel his fingers enter, “t-too big, nami…” you sputter out, already losing it at the idea of his dick fucking you senseless later on.
kento was about to lose it; he was a man of self-control but something about the way you react has him wanting to see more of you, to gauge more reactions from the touches he gives you. nanami wanted it all.
“gonna have to prep you, sweet thing. needa make sure you’re ready for daddy.” he answers, fingers doing quick work of finding that one spot that made sure to have you writhing underneath him. seeing how your face contorted into one of pure bliss, he knew he had it.
with his tongue doing laps around your clit and his fingers fucking you so well, you could feel the tightness forming at the pit of your stomach. “g-gonna cum, nami…” you manage to say, your moans filling up his room as you struggle to control your movement against him.
you hear him hum, his ministrations never stopping until you feel yourself come undone, nanami’s fingers ride out your high before pulling away once you settle down. you’ve never cum that hard before and you want more.
whining lightly at the sudden loss of his fingers inside you, your eyes watch eagerly as he licks his fingers clean, his stare at you filled with lust. “w-want you in me, sir.” you beg, hand reaching up to palm him through his sweats, earning another groan from him. “please… need you so bad.”
and who was kento to decline? making quick work of his swears, your mouth watered at the sight of his cock, freed from the constraints of his pants with his tip smeared with his precum.
sitting yourself up, he stops you and shakes his head. “gonna pleasure you first baby, can do that some other time.” he says, positioning himself on top of you. the tip of his dick ghosting against your hole.
“don’t… don’t think it would fit.” you mumble softly, already whining at the feeling of his tip teasing you. “gonna have to make it fit then, princess.” he says, slowly sinking into you.
the both of you groan in satisfaction; the feeling of your tight walls wrap around him so well and the burn of his length enter you already causing so much euphoria
once he bottoms out, he stays just for you to adjust to his size. once you nod, he rocks his hips into a steady rhythm, his groaning music to your ears. “s-so fuckin’ tight baby. gonna make me cum so soon.” he grunts, voice a bit gruff as you let out another whine.
“go faster, nami, please. want it rough.” you beg, throwing your head back at how he fills you up so well, just wanting to feel every bit of him. “you sure, baby?” he asks, lifts his head to look at you, adoring your already fucked out expression.
“mhm, use me, please.” you beg.
with your verbal permission, nanami relents. his thrusts were sharp yet hit the exact same spot every time. with his free arm snaking down, his thumb does quick work to rub circles around your clit, overstimulating you even more.
his lips bite into your skin, leaving nasty lovebites as your fingertips drag along his skin, leaving red marks along his back. it was mixed with your light and airy moans, his low grunts and occasional curses and praises about how well you were taking him; t’was pure filth with the sound of skin slapping resonating in the room.
“k-kento, sir, i’m- i’m close!” you squeal, hips bucking up uncontrollably as tears form in your eyes; overwhelmed with pleasure from his fingers and cock.
kento’s drunk on the feeling of your pussy squeezing him right with your legs wrapped around your waist, he couldn’t get enough. “gonna cum in you, yeah? gonna make sure your pussy’s dripping with my cum.” he gruntles, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he starts to chase his own high. “look so fuckin’ pretty with those tears runnin’ down your face, angel.”
his words of praises sent you over the edge, nodding desperately as your grip around him tightens. you feel yourself cum for the second time tonight and nanami rides out your high, his own coming soon after, filling you up.
he thrusts in you one more time, causing you to react and shake your head, “t-too much, nami.” which he understands and slowly pulls out, watching as thick white beads drip from your cunt mixed with your own arousal.
kento leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, “gonna be back in a bit, sweet girl.” he mumbles and leaves, reappearing with a towel and a glass of water in his hands soon after. “here.” he says, giving you the glass and stars to clean you up gently, his hands light and makes sure to leave nothing.
putting the glass of water on the bedside table, you hold his wrist and tug on it. “please don’t leave, nami. just want you here.” you mumble, patting the space next to you.
the blonde obliges and lays down beside you, easily pulling you into his embrace and tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “gonna be here by your side for as long as y’ want me to, sweet thing.” he says, shutting his eyes to relax himself.
“next time we do this, we’re fucking for everyone to see.”
peepeepoopoo camboy!nanami says to reblog, pretty please !! >__<
#haha i hate that i was shadowbanned#i hope this shows up now#please#i just want to write#jujutsu kaisen nanami kento#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen nanami smut
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Diluc x Barmaid! Reader
♡𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗♡ Diluc Shares A Heated Moment With His Pretty Barmaid In The Store Room
𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: | ¹⁸⁺ | ˢᵐᵘᵗ | ᵃᶠᵃᵇ ˢʰᵉ/ʰᵉʳ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ | ᴰᶦˡᵘᶜ ᶜᵉⁿᵗʳᶦᶜ | ᵀᵒᵘᶜʰ ˢᵗᵃʳᵛᵉᵈ | ᵇᵒᵈʸ ʷᵒʳˢʰᶦᵖ | ᶜᵒᶜᵏ ʷᵃʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ | ᵇˡᵒʷ ʲᵒᵇ | ᴼʳᵃˡ ᵐ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ | ˢᵉᵐⁱ ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱᶜ | ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ ².⁶ᵏ
•· ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪·····.•🍑•.····· ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪·•
Diluc was a mess
On the outside, Diluc was a Noble man, the very concept indoctrinated into his skull the moment the young Lord could comprehend the world around him. From a young age, he had been taught to uphold chivalry, nobility, to acknowledge an essence of respect and kindness for those around him, regardless of their background. Truthfully, such behavior had become muscle memory for Diluc, though he often detested most social interactions (or so he told himself) he found himself falling back into this routine automatically.
Sometimes though, Diluc garnered the wrong attention; A polite smile towards a young florist while making a purchase from Floral Whisper, accidentally taken as a sign of interest - (He genuinely for the life of him couldn't even recall her name, Diana? Dana?) Since that interaction, there were too many fleeting smiles and longing stares directed towards him almost every time he was headed to his place of work. From then on, he took the long route to Angel's Share; Behind the wall, through the dandelions, past the pier and right up the cobble stairs - Entering through the back-door for good measure.
Another incident he could note, was connected to the Knights of Favonius - Bumbling fools - no name knights pitching together, awfully chatty about the relationship between Acting Grand Master Jean and the charming and fiery Ex Cavalry Captain. He was so patient and seemingly kind to her, surely he was smitten. He had put an end to such rumors swiftly, potentially, accidentally, purposely; Depending on who you were asking - Causing a sudden resignation amongst the group, leaving the general civilian guards low on numbers.
In recent times, there were far too many cases in which his awkward habit had trickled into and affected his own work life - inconveniencing himself and the kind new Barmaid he had hired for his tavern. The few times he had held the heavy entrance door to Angels Share, nodding his head to the young woman, catching a passing scent of her soft perfume. Times he offered to carry and transport crates that were far too heavy and burdensome for a pretty little Barmaid. In far too many instances he caught himself checking up on her, offering her sweet and unique beverages, inquiring about her day, escorting her back to her little home within the walls of Monstadt. A sweet thing like her couldn't possibly hold her own, he had done it out of courtesy! Not because he was harboring any unprofessional notions towards her. Preposterous.
Diluc had always kept people at arm's length, displaying just the right amount of hospitality within his behavior. Never had he made a genuinely meaningful connection, on a deeper level than familial at least. Sure he cared for Adelinde and held his Father in high regard, he even spared a small place within his heart for Kaeya. But he could not recall a time where he had been in control, aware of his emotions, let alone falling into desire for another. Diluc was starved. Starved of affection, of touch, of connection. Defaulting into a false representation of himself, his outward character crafted meticulously, a barrier.
Diluc, though seemingly outwardly put together, was a mess. He had an affinity for dramatics, often making unconventional decisions when it came to most conscious interactions. He found an unusual comfort in the idea of being swallowed by the Abyss itself or crushed to death by a flaming meteorite rather than having to face people. This new Barmaid was dangerous, intimidating, she completely rewired his cranium. Diluc was at a loss, he worked his whole life through habitual means, spitting out the same lines a Noble should without a thought. But now, he found himself stumbling over himself, the learnt facade became uncomfortable, awkward. He didn't feel authentic, he had never wanted to break down the thick walls he had built around himself. Until now.
Now, finding himself picking up a greater amount of shifts at the tavern, lining his schedule up with the pretty new Barmaid's own. Now, rarely catching himself as he stares at her while she serves, all dolled up with a cute frilly apron, paired with a ruffled dress that would barely pass the taverns' dress code. Now, as he slips her a small quip about a regular customer, paired with a quick wink, relishing the sweet sound of her giggles. Now, as he wraps a strong arm around her shoulder, while he works to escort an aggravated (now ex) patron out of sight. Now, as he's somehow found himself, staring down at pretty doughy eyes, pitched up at his own. A soft velvet tongue slowly dragging under the thick head of his cock, catching salty beads of pre with a calculated flick.
Diluc lets out a soft breath, his tongue runs along his teeth and he swallows thickly. He's warm, more so than usual, his Vision usually always burns hot on his side, but this was different. Heat ripples from his cheeks to his neck, flushing his skin, warming the small room around them. The room was cramped, clearly made for produce storage with a maximum capacity of one person within the space at a given moment. He has to get back, he thinks, close up for the night and tidy the bar. The thought is fleeting however, he feels a warm breath on his length, accompanied by a short giggle and a sweet grin.
"You seem tense, Sir~" A voice calls from below him, poking fun. The pretty barmaid kisses against his pink tip, his sticky pre glosses her lips, leaving a decadent pearlescent sheen. Diluc's body shudders, his fingers dig into a shelf behind him and the wood moans in protest. His heart pounds in his ears, he struggles to find words, they're stuck in his throat, trapped behind a thick lump of suspense that's settled itself behind his tongue. The girl below him huffs, more out of affection rather than amusement. Her hands snake up his thighs, settling over his waistband and belt, the taught fabric still half on his body. Her thumbs knead into the flesh of his hip bone, softly circling over his sensitive, untouched skin. Diluc's heart stutters, never had he been touched so tenderly, goosebumps prickle down his arms and across his back, tickling at his tail bone.
"..'s okay Sir… I'll look after you.." His Barmaid hums and noses into his navel, she peers up at him, her eyes swim with something he can't quite decipher. She was dangerous, something washed over him, a feeling unknown to him until that moment. Something soft, attraction? Affection? He was warm, in his bones, his joints, his heart. This was something no one had prepared him for, and she was there to graciously lead him. Diluc swallows again, he blinks, his eyes are wet, since when was he crying? He breathes slowly, his hand tentatively reaches for his Barmaid's cheek, brushing his fingertips over the soft curve of her face. He was nervous, painfully so, never had he been so intimate with another person in his life and he was afraid she could tell. This was supposed to be a fun time. Quick, cheeky and taboo, he was ruining this for sure.
His Barmaid hums, she turns and faces the hand that grazes her face ever so softly. She peppers soft kisses against his fingers, warm and slightly wet against his knuckles. Diluc stares in awe, biting the side of his cheek with his molars. Her hands slide up to his waist, palming the skin under his clothes. He looks away, his face surely as red as the rest of him, he hoped she couldn't see. Her fingers were cool, caressing over his sides, which had embarrassingly softened since his "Prime". His life had drastically settled down compared to what it was a few years ago and his body followed suit, he was still strong, perhaps even stronger than he used to be, but he was not as lean nor visibly muscular (to him at least) as he once was. A hum crackles quietly from Diluc's throat, the sound tinted with embarrassment.
"..You're so handsome, Sir.." The pretty Barmaid keens, spreading her fingers as far as she could across his skin, touching as much as she could. Diluc's chest aches with a thump, his hand slides to the nape of her neck, her eyes meet his own. He licks at his bottom lip and she smiles so, so sweetly at him.
"You're really… P-Pretty.." Pretty? Was that all he could muster? The girl below him was ravishing, her uniform hugged her body so tenderly, dainty ruffles rested upon her form in just the right way. Her eyes dazzled, tinted with such a pronounced softness, it felt illegal to gaze into them. Her soft voice, her cool hands, the way she touched him. Pretty could not even begin to describe her.
"You're too kind, Sir.." She chews her lips and lingers a soft kiss against his skin. She was electrifying, she left his skin buzzing. The honorific she breathed; Sir, made his throat burn, that wasn't him. She was breaking him down, to the very core of himself, him, Diluc.
"Diluc.. Please, call me by my name; D-Diluc," The man breathes into the air of the room. He was opening himself to her, letting her lead him to wherever she desired. The Barmaid below him smiles up prettily, her nails drag along his skin and back into the waistband of his trousers.
"..Let me make you feel good… Diluc." She calls sweetly. His cock twitches as the sound of his name tumbles from her lips. He nearly growls as he exhales, suddenly desperate, nearly insatiable. His eyebrows pitch upwards, he nods his head, a soft 'please' hums from his throat. She noses back into his navel, peppering soft kisses up the base of his shaft. She drags her wet tongue under the thick vein that runs up the length of his cock, slowly, sweetly. Her eyes gaze at his own, straining to look up at him. Diluc's mouth falls open in awe as she licks and kisses against his flushed cock head. Her lips gloss with her spit, mixing dangerously with the slick beads of precum that drip from his slit. His length aches and twitches with her ministrations, to anyone else she was teasing him. To him, she was breaking him in. Easing him sweetly, taking such good care of him.
His pretty Barmaid wraps her plump lips around his leaky cock head, warm and wet, taking him in so softly. Diluc moans, quiet and breathless, his jaw slack, legs wobbling. She gently bobs her head, paying special attention to the tip of his cock, dragging her velvet tongue over and under it. She sighs out with every few drags of her lips, eyebrows crooked upwards, determined and focused. She takes him deeper, swallowing him down her throat. She was warm, her mouth was so warm, wet and divine. Diluc can't keep his eyes off of her, his pretty little Barmaid. The sleeves of her dress slip from her shoulders and she braces her hands on the crooked floorboards beneath her. Her arms squish her chest together, pressing the soft plush of her breast, oh so prettily. The ruffles of her uniform pool around her knees where she sat, perched in a cute little kneel right at his feet.
She presses her nose to his navel, lips touching the base of his thick cock. She squirms below him, clenching her thighs and rocking her hips into nothing. He marvels at her, for taking him in so earnestly. Her throat swallows around him sweetly, milking at his length. His cock twitches hard and she moans around him, stifled by the thick cockhead that bullies the back of her mouth. She breathes him in, inhaling the soft musk of his navel. Her eyes peer up at him and he breaks, they shine delicately with warm tears, barely illuminated through a crack in the door.
Diluc's fingers twitch anxiously, unknowing of where he should touch her, let alone if he even could. Was he allowed? His palms were warm, abnormally so. Tentatively, he cups his Barmaid's cheeks, encasing her face with his heated hands. Her face was cool, his thumbs rub over the plush curve of her skin. The girl at his feet keens into him, moaning out, high pitched and wanton. Her brow pitches and she draws back, dragging her pretty lips over the thick length of his cock. She sighs and sinks back down, maintaining a steady pace, earnestly servicing him. He sighs out a soft profanity, tilting his head back, the wooden shelf digs into his skull. He had never experienced a sensation quite like this, warm and wet and oddly passionate. His hands move, from the apple of her cheeks to her pretty hair, he twirls his digits into it.
Diluc tugs at the strands between his fingers, in turn, making the pretty Barmaid whine. She adds pressure, taking him impossibly deeper, licking against the underside of his cock with her soft tongue. Diluc grinds his teeth, his length aches hotly, spurting sweet beads of precum right into the girls' throat. He thrusts forward, smacking the back of her mouth with his blunt cock head, gagging her loudly. Diluc sharply sucks in air, muttering soft 'sorries' over and over. The Barmaid pulls off his length, she licks at her slick lips and kisses at the head of his cock.
"Do what you want.. Diluc, be selfish.." The Barmaid breathed, her words slurred, she was drunk on him. She sinks back down, dragging her lips over him heavily. Diluc tentatively pushes her head down onto his cock, overtaking her, now in control. He snaps his hips harshly, shoving his length into his pretty Barmaid. Hot tears run down her cheeks as he fucks his thick cock into her soft mouth. Her face stains with thick black smudges from her tears, tainted with her eye makeup. His grip on her hair is tight, selfish, aiding him in his own pleasure. He feels her gag and moan on his cock, the sounds vibrate deliciously on his length. Drool drips messily down her chin and she sloppily holds herself against his bullying pace. She squirms below him, pretty frilly fabric crunching against itself as she clenches and rubs her plush thighs together.
Diluc bites at his lip, the feeling was intense. He was getting close, he could feel his climax approaching. He marvels down at her, his pretty Barmaid, his girl, how sweetly she was taking him in. She looks up at him again, brows pitched and eyes lost. He was about to lose it. And he does. He groans out loud, hot cum pumps into his pretty Barmaids throat. She eagerly takes him, bobbing her head deeply on his length, milking out everything he had to offer her. She keens and whines, her breath huffing out of her nose. Diluc's legs wobble, he braces a hand behind him, perching back onto the shelf. His other hand delicately pulls the sweet Barmaid off of his length, cradling her cheek in his palm.
She sighs out and tilts her head to meet him, grinning dopily. There was a look in her eyes, something he could only describe as adoration. Her soft finger tickles at his stomach, tracing over the pale unseen skin. Her cheeks were stained with tear streaks, dyed black and grey from her pretty makeup. Her hair frazzled and her uniform not even half on her form, crinkled and strewn around her knees. She was a mess.
But so was Diluc.
𝙸'𝚖 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝙸𝚗 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚒𝚖 ;; 𝙷𝚎 𝙸𝚜 𝙼𝚢 𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 ♡
𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐!! 𝙸 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚆𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚂𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚏 𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝙱𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙸𝚝 𝙻𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕 :>
𝙸'𝚖 𝙸𝚗 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝙱𝚘𝚢𝚜 ;;
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♡Masterlist♡
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♡𝚃𝚊𝚐 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝♡
•°𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙸𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝙸𝚏 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚆𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚃𝚘 𝙱𝚎 𝙰𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙾𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍•°
@neuvijade @madsw9
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𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙳𝚘 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗!
#diluc x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x y/n#afab reader#genshin smut#diluc ragnvindr#genshin diluc#head empty only diluc#diluc x you#im in love with him im soft for hiM#genshin impact smut#genshin fanfic#diluc x y/n#diluc x fem!reader#ʚ•*°SashiAvi Writes°*•ɞ
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Tony Bobulinski:
Joe Biden Was ‘the Brand’
Excerpts from the written testimony of Hunter Biden’s business partner.
These are excerpts from the written testimony of Tony Bobulinski, a former business partner of Hunter Biden, submitted to the House Oversight and Accountability Committee Tuesday. Mr. Bobulinski is scheduled to testify before the committee Wednesday. Joe, Hunter and Jim Biden have disputed some of Mr. Bobulinski’s allegations.
I want to be crystal clear: From my direct personal experience and what I have subsequently come to learn, it is clear to me that Joe Biden was “the Brand” being sold by the Biden family. His family’s foreign influence peddling operation—from China to Ukraine and elsewhere—sold out to foreign actors who were seeking to gain influence and access to Joe Biden and the United States government.
Joe Biden was more than a participant in and beneficiary of his family’s business; he was an active, aware enabler who met with business associates such as myself to further the business, despite being buffered by a complex scheme to maintain plausible deniability.
If there is no evidence of corruption—if Joe’s conduct and the conduct of his family were fully legal and proper—then why are they so dishonest about it? Not just slight misrepresentations of fact but deep untruths about the entire corrupt enterprise.
Hunter Biden gave his transcribed interview to the House Oversight Committee on February 28 and lied throughout his testimony. Here are just three key examples of his perjury:
1. In Hunter’s transcript (Page 42), he states, “I officially began to do work for CEFC when the—when I received a retainer from CEFC in early—or spring of 2017.”
Why, then, did Hunter yell at CEFC Executive Director Zang in front of his entourage as I sat right next to him in New York City on Sunday May 7th, 2017? Hunter was adamant that he was owed the rest of the $20 Million CEFC had committed to paying for the work he had claimed he had done in prior years.
2. On Page 48 of his transcript, Hunter is asked, “He’s never interacted with any of your business associates. Is that correct?” The “He’s” is a reference to Joe Biden.
Hunter responds, “Yes.”
Hunter arranged the meeting between his father and me at the Beverly Hilton in Los Angeles on May 2, 2017. The sole reason Hunter wanted me to meet his father was because I was the CEO of Sinohawk, the Bidens’ partnership with CEFC. I was a business associate. In his transcript, Hunter confirms that that meeting with Joe took place and incriminates his Uncle Jim for perjury by confirming it.
3. Hunter also lied to the Committee about important details concerning his money demands and threats to CEFC on July 30 and July 31, 2017. He leveraged his father’s presence next to him in that infamous text in order to strong-arm CEFC into paying Hunter immediately, and in the process defrauded the partners of Sinohawk Holdings LLC and Oneida Holdings LLC. The threat worked, as a few days later the Chinese wired $5 million dollars into a company of which Hunter owned 50%. It’s important to remember that the CEFC considered this money an interest-free loan to the “Biden family,” and planned to send more. I have the email from CEFC to prove it.
Jim Biden also lied extensively throughout his transcribed interview before the Oversight Committee on February 21, and ironically, Hunter Biden—in his own testimony as outlined above—confirmed that Jim Biden perjured himself:
1. Jim has been selling “plausible deniability” for so many years he can’t tell truth from the lies. On Page 100 of his transcript, he is asked: “Do you recall having a meeting with Hunter Biden, and Tony Bobulinski and Joe Biden?”
Jim’s response: “Absolutely not.”
The Committee was so shocked by his perjury they tried to ask the question again in a slightly different way:
“It’s your testimony here today that meeting never took place?”
Jim responds, “Yes sir,” “that I was present for.”
The Committee tried again: “Do you recall whether you were at the bar with Hunter Biden, Tony Bobulinski and Joe Biden?”
Jim responds: “That I know did not happen.”
Jim adds further, “But my brother was never there.”
On Page 134, delusional Jim Biden reiterates his untruthful answer again after the Committee showed him messages confirming I met with Joe Biden.
Jim Biden states, “Joe Biden never met with Tony Bobulinski.”
That is just a flat-out lie.
2. On Page 124 of his transcript, Jim Biden states, “It was Hunter Biden, myself, Gilliar. I don’t know. It was the five. Okay? And everybody was 20 percent. Okay? You know what was never executed. It was never signed.”
Jim was then presented with a fully executed copy of the Oneida Holdings operating agreement that he and I had both signed along with Hunter Biden, Mr. James Gilliar and Mr. Robert Walker. On Page 132, Jim tries to claim he was not a member of Oneida Holdings.
Jim is so dedicated to his lies that he describes the Oneida document, a large legal document signed by the Biden business partners, as something that I might have come up with after drinking a “quart of gin” (Page 124). It’s absurd.
3. Jim Biden further lies by claiming “Bobulinski was trying to usurp and replace Hunter Biden.” (Page 123)
Hunter Biden, Robert Walker, James Gilliar and Jim Biden asked me to step in as CEO of the business. I did not ask them. I tried to walk away from Sinohawk multiple times only to be convinced to stay on, including on one occasion by Jim Biden himself. The company was controlled by a Board of which the 4 of them could out-vote me on anything. They had control of the company. . . .
Why is Joe Biden blatantly lying to the American people? . . . If he were doing nothing wrong, why go through this insane exercise of obstructing and denying obvious facts? . . .
The reason is because the Biden family’s profiting of tens of millions of dollars from our strategic opponents and corrupt individuals and entities around the world—without delivering any goods or services and while putting in minimal effort and work—causes Americans to rightly question any policies from this administration that apparently benefit those same strategic opponents and corrupt individuals and entities. Just read the latest motion by the Department of Justice related to Hunter Biden’s criminal indictments in California; the DOJ states that he made large sums of money for very little work.
#Joe Biden#Hunter Biden#James Biden#Corruption#Misuse of public office#Federal Crime#State Crime#investigate. indict. prosecute. incarcerate.#trump#trump 2024#ivanka#president trump#repost#democrats#donald trump#america#invertebrates#americans first#america first#art#nature#landscape#fashion#lol#gif#diy#love#travel#food#white house
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hello lovelies!! thank you all so much for all the work that you do!! y’all really are lifesavers.
i was wondering if you had any recommendations for fics that emulate the style of the original book/have a Pratchett-y vibe (footnotes, humour, structure, etc.)? i’d be especially interested in ones that are in this style but exist in the show’s canon rather than the book’s, but I wouldn’t mind either way!
We have a #footnotes tag, please check that out. Here are more fics with footnotes...
A Lot of Space Between Your Ears by nerdsandthelike (G)
“And you expect us to just waltz into Heaven, rob the archives, and walk back out?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Nearly a year after they successfully stopped the world from ending, Heaven obtains evidence that would result in Aziraphale being recalled from Earth. Crowley and Aziraphale decide to steal it back.
DIY How to build your own Garden of Eden by ximeria (T)
Post-not-end-of-days Crowley feels a change is needed, but he can't do it alone. Not to mention, he's not entirely sure what it is, this nebulous thing that he wants. He just knows it involves Aziraphale.
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by divisionten (T)
“Well, Pulsifer, I can say with confidence I know exactly what’s wrong with your car.”
“Oh? What’s wrong?” Newt peered down, looking at the undercarriage, as most people do who want to help but have absolutely no skill in basic car repair.
“It’s shit.”
(An anthology collection of the times Anthony J. Crowley, retired demon and occasional slumber party guest, and Aziraphale, forcefully instated Guardian Angel of the downtrodden, get summoned to deal with humanity.)
Yes and Please and Thank You by WyvernQuill (T)
"Go to alpha centauri, for all I care! Go now, this very instant, and never return, do you hear me, Crowley? Never!"
Due to Crowley's firm conviction that "he need never know", Aziraphale has, for all the time they've known each other, been blissfully unaware of the obedience curse Crowley's been looping holes around since 4004 BC.
You can't really blame him, is the point. Aziraphale had no idea what his unthinking words might do, and is already planning to apologise profusely at dinner...
...which might get a little tricky, seeing as Crowley has just been sighted in the vicinity of Pluto, and has concrete orders to never show his face on earth.
Ever.
Again.
Demon in Heaven, Angel in Hell by Hexqueen517 (T)
When the world ends, Aziraphale will be called back to Heaven and Crowley will be banished back to Hell, separated for eternity - unless they’re willing to listen to Beelzebub and Gabriel’s plan. Which is Beelzebub’s plan, of course, but they need Gabriel to act as a shield against plant misters filled with holy water. But not everyone in Heaven and Hell is on board with Beelzebub and Gabriel’s leadership. When everyone at the top of the Ineffable Bureaucracy has their own ambitions, the chances of averting apocalypse yet again may seem random. You never know who will come out on top when the dice begin to roll …
i have spent all my years in believing you by braveatironheart (M)
This is the story of how Aziraphale and Crowley inadvertently end the war between Heaven and Hell. The story of how they – indirectly, at least – avert the Apocalypse is in there, too, but I suspect you already know that one.
If pressed and in an uncharacteristically honest mood, Crowley would have to admit he’d fallen for Aziraphale in the Garden of Eden.
Things were not so straightforward for Aziraphale, who spent six millennia trying to ignore his growing fondness for the demon. He supposed the first time he’d felt drawn to Crowley would have been in Rome, eight years after the death of Christ. And what had he done? Invited him to lunch.
It was no wonder, really, that he kissed him two thousand years later. How else was one to respond when one’s hereditary enemy saved one’s life and one’s books?
5945 years after they meet, Crowley and Aziraphale confess their love for one another. They certainly aren’t going to let anything get in the way, no matter what Heaven and Hell throw at them.
aka
Good Omens, except the only plot is Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship. Complete with original, lockdown-era plot.
- Mod D
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Hey I would like to request a good omens Crowley x reader angsty sad fic where they are pining over him but he loves aziraphale and they don’t want to interfere. Kind of Laufey’s song Let You Break My Heart Again vibes. Thx!!❤️
"Why couldn't I have what THEY had, [y/n]?! Maybe it's...it's all part of God's great ineffable plan! As if fallin' weren't enough...y'know? Why not allow him to walk outta my life and crawl back to the other angelss, too? Keep fuckin' me over, I suppose. This must be karma, I swear.."
"Crowley.." You began, only to stop as the demon on the other end of the line continued his drunken sorrowful ramblings.
He was still clearly hurting, and you were his only company left.
The only one who knew about him and Aziraphale and everything they've done together for the past 6,000 years.
You've been around for a thousand or so, not aligned with Heaven nor Hell, but living as a simple immortal being.
However, only very recently have you learned that they've in fact known each other since the very dawn of Creation.
So their history goes way back.
It's no secret that Crowley's been pining after the angel all these years, forced to pretend he hates him just because he was on the "opposite side".
But he was sick of doing all of that, and finally got the courage to tell him how he really felt. He begged him to stay, to stop taking sides, and to think about just them for once.
In the end, Aziraphale still chose the side that shunned him for conspiring with a demon, halting Armageddon, and hiding Gabriel on Earth...all because he was offered a higher position of power and couldn't so easily let go of Heaven.
Not as easily as Crowley could. He couldn't understand that, or why Gabriel and Beelzebub could go off together and they couldn't.
Now you were here, having to comfort the very same demon that you've fallen in love with yourself.
It felt like such a selfish desire, knowing that you haven't lived nearly as long as either of them. You weren't there at the beginning of Everything. You weren't there at the Garden of Eden.
You could never fully understand their deep-rooted bond.
There's no way he would ever see you in a remotely similar light.
Even still, the heart wants what it wants..even if it's unobtainable.
"Listen, Crowley.." You tried speaking again. "I'm next in line, do you want anything?"
Perhaps that was rather poorly worded, as you heard a sniffle and what sounded like him holding back a sob. "I just want him to come back.." His voice broke.
There was that feeling again, constricting your human heart with pain.
It was such a fickle organ, you often thought. It kept people alive, yet when put through emotional toil..it felt like it was killing them, and they wanted nothing more than to rip it out of their chest to be rid of the pain.
But right in this moment, you felt like that because deep down...you wish he instead said that he wanted-
"W-Wait..you're..at that café 'cross the bookshop, right?" You heard Crowley mumble. "I'll get the usual..assuming she remembers. Actually...don't bother-"
"It's fine, Crow. It'll be my treat. I'm getting something, too...not that we actually need it. But we both enjoy it, right?"
"...right." He chuckled depressingly. "Fine. I'll be outside."
That was a surprise, although when you briefly glanced outside the window of Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, you noticed the Bentley parked next to the sidewalk. You sighed, hanging up the phone before you stepped up to the register, smiling at Nina.
"Hello, Nina. I'll have my usual..and Mr. Crowley's, too. Six espresso shots, was it? And one of those [favorite flavor] pies, pretty please." You pointed to the menu.
"On it." She nodded, already getting to work on your order. "You know, I haven't seen that chap around in a while. How's he holding up? I heard he took it pretty hard."
"Yeah." You muttered, recalling how you've talked to her about your own feelings for Crowley.
You weren't expecting a human to solve the relationship woes of immortal beings when she herself was going through her own issues.
She worried that her and Maggie's little "intervention" caused the demon and angel to split up, but you didn't blame her. And neither did Crowley, although he was torn between wishing he didn't kiss Aziraphale and wondering if he'd regret not doing that at all.
He hasn't been back at the coffee shop since.
"Well, do you plan to tell him anytime soon?"
You nearly choked on your own spit. "N-Nina...I..I can't just do that. He clearly doesn't see me that way. He talks about him every day and night. I've stayed up past midnight consoling him, letting him stay with me the moment I learned he's sleeping outta his car. But...it's him he loves, not me. And I can't interfere with that..it would be wrong."
"Then...what's your plan from here?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.
"..I'm not sure anymore. I guess hope that one day..I'll stop falling in love with him. Maybe his angel will come back and everything will be as it was."
"Sounds like wishful thinking at this point, but I'm sure things will work out. Maybe he'll move on."
"I doubt it, but time will tell."
"Right." After finishing the drinks, she set them down into a cupholder, before giving you the pie as well. You paid and bid her farewell before heading out of the café and to the Bentley.
Inside, you saw Crowley sulking, lost in thought until you knocked on the passenger's window. He sat up with a start, fixing his glasses when he realized it was you. "S-Sorry."
The door opened, and you slid inside, passing him the tall cup with tons of espresso shots. "It's okay. So..where did you wanna go today?"
"I was thinkin'..St. James Park. Feel like I've been neglecting the ducks for far too long."
You blinked. 'Wasn't that..his and Aziraphale's thing-?'
"Yeah, I know..it...was our thing." He responded as though he read your mind. "'s just..been so lonely without him to chatter to. I hate siting all alone on that bench. But it's not like I can just walk Upstairs and tell him to screw all of them, right?"
"Sadly..no." Shaking your head, you glanced over your shoulder at the plants he's shoved into his backseat. Closest to you was a venus fly trap that had spots and other flaws, looking rather frail and wilted and sad.
Not too different from how its owner felt.
You smiled sadly and stroked the top of its head with your thumb, feeling it cease its trembles. Its mouth closed as it seemed to...purr?
How cute.
"Well would ya look at that...ya even treat the bloody things the same as he did.."
You tensed, looking back to Crowley and frowning upon seeing the tears sliding down his cheeks. But he was quick to wipe them away once you noticed them, yet a sniffle still managed to escape him.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to keep doing stuff that reminds you of him.." You set a hand on his back. "Do you...want me to drive?"
"No, it's fine.." He shook his head, sniffling loudly one last time before he managed to pull himself together. "Let's just..go."
You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee and a small bite of your pie, before you reached for the radio-
However, you forgot that the Bentley was sentient, instead turning it on for you and playing a song that nearly made you choke once again.
"--All I've had is coffee and leftover pie. It's no wonder why. Ooooh, still you take up all my mind. I don't even think that you care like I do. I should stop, Heaven knows I've tried..."
Even Crowley froze as he listened to the lyrics.
And not because it wasn't a Queen song.
"One day, I will stop falling in love with you."
Neither of you spoke a word, instead staring at the dashboard with looks of sadness upon your faces. You thought he would've changed the song by now, but...when you looked over, you could see his glasses now resting on the bridge of his nose.
His golden irises have almost completely taken over the whites of his eyes.
What little you saw of them..
Were growing redder and glossier.
"Some day, someone will like me like I like you."
You felt your own eyes start to sting, too, so you looked away and opted to pet the venus fly trap that was nuzzling your hand, clearly asking for more much-needed affection.
Sentient plants were easy to comfort.
If only your demon friend could be the same way..
If only you could show him that you wished to be more than just friends..but this simply wasn't your place to tell him that.
Not here, not now...and possibly not ever. For as long as you lived on this mortal plane.
All you could hope was that one day, the feeling will pass.
If Aziraphale came back, things might be better. You wished the idiot would at least check in with you both once in a while so you knew he was alive.
If that's the last time you hear from him, well....you weren't sure if Crowley would ever want to try loving again after what he's suffered through. He poured his heart out, only for it to get broken and stomped on before being left all alone on Earth.
He couldn't go through that again.
And you didn't wanna say anything about how you felt for the centuries you've known him. He could very well perceive that as you trying to replace him and ruin this friendship.
The wounds in his heart are still clearly fresh..and they likely will be for a long, long time.
For now, you'll just be by his side and be mindful. Perhaps he'll eventually realize how you felt about him...but you doubt it.
"Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend we are more than friends. Then of course, I'll let you break my heart again-"
Crowley's hand suddenly shot towards the button, the car filling with an abrupt silence as he shut off the music. Then he switched between several Queen songs, eyebrows furrowed as none of them seemed to suit his current mood.
If Queen didn't make him happy anymore...he was seriously in emotional distraught.
But eventually he settled for "Somebody to Love", and you smiled, wiping your eyes as you leaned back in the seat. "Good choice."
He nodded absentmindedly, before finally driving off to the park after adjusting his glasses.
No further words were exchanged. You didn't even scold him for speeding down the tightly-knitted roads of London. That's the last thing he needed right now.
Especially since you picked up that habit from Aziraphale.
But even as Freddie's voice reverberated through the Bentley, you two couldn't stop thinking about the lyrics of Laufey's song and what it meant to both of you.
Yet the people it reminded you of...were completely different.
#ough i listened to this song on repeat while editing this </3#hurts like a bish#clanask#good omens x reader#good omens 2 spoilers#crowley x reader#ineffable husbands#immortal reader#angst
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