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#and then she was and i realized that i could like her without feeling guilty
erikahenningsen · 2 days
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Regina takes up 2/3 of the bed but it works for them because Cady sleeps curled up in a little ball. Regina hates having to sleep without Cady because sometimes she has nightmares and she always feels guilty about calling Cady in the middle of the night.
Now, please do this 😔🙏, or if you could, elaborate more. I'm currently in the midst of brainrot.
#grad school universe / Angie's fic
Regina wakes up just as the bus is about to hit her, breathing hard.
For a moment, she's completely disoriented, before she realizes she's in her bed, her apartment dark and silent.
Regina presses a hand to her forehead and finds it tacky with sweat, and her throat is a bit tender. She wonders if she had been screaming in her sleep. That's happened before—and completely scared the shit out of Cady the first time.
Cady.
Instinctively, Regina reaches to Cady's side of the bed, and finds it cold and empty. Right. Cady is at her apartment in New Haven. Regina is still getting used to spending more nights apart than together. She'd never tell Cady, but she thinks the nightmares have become more frequent as a result.
Regina wants to call Cady. She needs to hear her voice. It's the only thing that slows her heart, which is still pounding inside her chest with panic. But it's the middle of the night, and Cady has class in the morning.
Regina rolls over and tries to ignore it, to will herself back to sleep—or at least into a calmer state. But every time she closes her eyes, all she sees is Cady staring at her with horror as the bus plows into her body. Sometimes, in the dreams, the bus hits Cady instead. Those are the worst ones.
After a couple of minutes of trying to relax by sheer force of will, Regina tries deep breathing. She tries listening to some calming music. She even tries a free meditation video on YouTube, even though she thinks it's stupid. But she doesn't feel even a little bit better.
Before she can overthink it, she taps on Cady's contact and holds her breath as the phone rings.
Just as Regina thinks the call is going to time out, Cady picks up. The screen is dark, but Regina can make out part of Cady's face on the screen.
"Regina?" Cady mumbles sleepily. She squints against the light of her phone. "You okay?"
"Hi, baby," Regina whispers. She feels guilt flare in her stomach at Cady's sleepy face, but she already feels less like she's having a heart attack.
Cady runs a hand down her face. "Did you have a bad dream?" she asks.
Regina cringes a little at the wording—it makes it sound like she's four years old—but now is not the time.
"Yeah," Regina says. "I just needed to see you."
Cady makes a vague gesture that might be a wave. "Here I am."
"And so beautiful, as always," Regina says. She's always found it quite unfair how Cady looks gorgeous all the time, even in the middle of the night.
"I love you," Cady says, with so much affection that Regina physically aches to be with her. "I'm glad you're alive."
"Me, too," Regina says. "Most of the time."
Cady makes a displeased noise, and Regina knows if it weren't the middle of the night and they weren't in separate states Cady would insist on having A Conversation about the most of the time part.
For a few moments, Regina just looks at Cady's face. Well, more like half of her face. At a weird angle. But her breathing has returned almost to normal, and she isn't trembling anymore.
"I'm gonna fall asleep," Cady admits, eyelids drooping, "but I'll leave my phone on."
"Good night," Regina says. "I love you."
Cady kisses the tips of her fingers and taps them against the screen as her eyes close.
It'll have to do, for now.
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sageistrii · 2 days
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These are some of my opinions on this whole thing after keeping up with it the past couple days
1) Tokkis like mhj just as much as armys like hybe. They love that woman and think new jeans is nothing without her but pretend they don't so they don't get called weirdos. They claim they're not picking sides and hate both parties, but if you look closely you will be able to pick out the few fans who are actually being neutral. Most Tokkis have picked a side and contrary to them tweeting "fuck mhj" they're on her side. Just like some armys are ignoring the posts implicating bang, Tokkis are ignoring the posts that makes her look like a complete weirdo while quoting the posts implicating bang. What they want is for mhj to leave with the girls because they genuinely believe that everything they got and achieved was never thanks to hybe. I honestly believe that some of them would unstan the group if this whole thing ends up with mhj leaving and new jeans staying at hybe.
2) As edgy as some of them like to act, tokkis are scared of armys and a lot of them are armys who just Stan new jeans because BTS haven't done anything for years, so they attack other hybe groups and fandom openly, but choose their words when it comes to BTS or armys And they have such a huge superiority complex, like they genuinely believe new jeans makes the best music in kpop or something. That's like saying pink pantheress makes the best music you've ever heard btw.
3) This whole thing proves just how adept hybe are with mediaplay, and it's pretty obvious that they were responsible for some of the negative media Jimin received during his debut.
4) I believe 100% that min heejin despises bts, and have always felt so even before now. This is just confirmation of something I already knew, so yes I do believe that she's egotistical enough to say "bang copied her to create BTS", as she said she was approached by hybe after she left sm and probably didn't want to have anything to do with hybe and BTS because she's always harbored resentment for them as she used to be in charge of exo, but she had to because she had no other option and saw them as a stepping stone. And she admitted herself that she spoke to a shaman about them.
5) while I do believe that she feels that way about BTS, hybe only released this to make her look bad and to get army's involved. And it's another indication of how skillfull they are at swaying public opinion.
6) I saw new jeans fans saying every fandom is dragging new jeans when that is not the truth. There'll always be a few trolls but everyone's dragging mhj and worrying about new jeans. They want a "us against the world" moment so bad. And some of them can't stop talking about how bad things could go for new jeans if they stayed with hybe because that's what they want to happen. Everyone wants their fave to leave a shitty label, but when you realize that it's not happening you should hope that the label finally does their job instead of saying nothing good's ever going to happen like you want it to be that way just to prove you're right. (Pjms are guilty of this. Instead of wishing that hybe wakes up and does something for him, they'll imply nothing's ever going to go great as long as he's there, almost like they want that to be the case so they can't continue talking about hybe all day long. Sometimes it's ok to wish for the best in certain situations, instead of acting like you're praying for the worst in order to justify your opinions)
7) fearnots are annoying as fuck , it's weird how they tried to prove to mhj disbanded GFriend because they want buddies off their back, when that would mean they will transfer their hatred from lsrfm onto njns, which is probably what some fearnots wanted anyways. But on the other hand tokkis trying to act like they defended le sserafim but now fearnots betrayed them is funny because most Tokkis openly hate and shade le sserafim all the time, because they think they're beneath new jeans while fearnots are usually calm and don't even talk about new jeans at all. Tokkis are made up of edgy stans and most of them were laughing during the whole hate train and they also try to shade their music because of the whole smart controversy. Le sserafim might genre opp but you can never call them boring and in my opinion they make way better music than new jeans, but new jeans has better vocals and an obvious identity.
With this discussion of music, none of these hybe groups make the best music in 4th gen anyways. Amongst the top 4th gen groups, Ive makes the best music hands down (if we forget their last comeback ever happened) and then you have lesser known groups like triple s and Billlie. Fifty fifty were also hit makers, (not even talking about cupid, although it is objectively a really great song)
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anapologethicc · 2 years
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bouncybongfairy · 2 months
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Freezer Burn
Prince Zuko x Fem Reader Smut
Summary: Tensions are running high which causes a argument between Zuko and yourself. He bruises the confidence you have in your hunting abilities and reaffirms your fear of being a burden. Wanting to prove otherwise, you go out in the cold to hunt. Feeling guilty about how he treated you, he goes out to find you. The two of you find some innovative ways to keep warm.
Word Count: 2.0k+
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
Everyone was having a rough day of travel, even Appa was reaching his limit. It was freezing and the optimism of finding a warm place to sleep was fading in everyone. Anng found a small cave that would work for the night. It was on a small mountain and overlooked an even smaller village. Zuko started making a fire while Katara and yourself set up the tents. Yang and Sokka were already asleep, curled into Appa’s thick fur. You were hungry but so was everyone else. 
“Are we going to be able to hunt for food soon? Or get some water?” you asked. 
“We could but I don’t think the cold would allow us to be out there for long. Not to mention there wouldn’t be any animals out, it's just too cold,” she said. 
“Not to mention you’d barely come home with anything in good weather,” Zuko grumbled, poking at the fire. He’d been making cracks at you all day, at first you could ignore him. Excusing his behavior on fatigue and hunger pains, but now you were taking it personally. 
“You’re not a prince among us, so stop acting like it” you say in hopes of lowering his ego.
“I am the best fighter and hunter, the past two battles you’ve only slowed us down. Maybe if we had a successful kill earlier we wouldn’t be hungry now,” he said. 
“Zuko don’t say that!” Katara snapped. 
All day you’d been beating yourself up over that mistake. Deep down you knew the rest of the group was irritated about you costing them the meal earlier. It just reaffirmed your insecurity. Grabbing your bow and arrows, you start putting your clothes back on while preparing for a hunt. 
“We’re all really tired and yes we may be hungry but you’re not the sole reason for that. Zuko is obviously just grumpy, don’t let his outburst get to you,” she says, grabbing your arm. 
Deep down you wanted to listen and calm down, rest for a while. Your pride however wouldn’t allow you to stop yourself. As you left, you could hear Katara yelling at Zuko to apologize. The feeling of dread bubbled in your stomach, you didn’t want to make anyone worry but your ego was clouding your judgment. Everyone in the group had their own ways of helping and at times you did feel like a burden. Extra weight that Appa had to carry on his back. It wasn’t that you were mad about what Zuko said, you were more frustrated that it was true. At this point it felt like you’d been walking for hours. The snow was coming down hard, without any signs of lightning. Not eating and your lack of rest was starting to get to you. Your stomach felt like it was eating away at itself. Eyes burning and muscles starting to stiffen from the cold penetrating your clothes. You tried not to go too far, knowing you couldn’t carry an animal in the cold that far. But you had to get some distance between you and the cave in order to find any wild game. Finally spotting a young Moose Lion, looking lost and confused, you almost hesitated when readying your bow. After successfully hitting the animal, your body floods with adrenaline. This quickly fades as you realize you’ll have to drag the thing home. Seemingly underestimating the size which caused a struggle when walking back. Even though it was freezing, you’d broken into a sweat. Starting to feel lightheaded, you took a moment to catch your breath. 
Katara was pacing at the entrance of the cave, anxious for your arrival. He wouldn’t admit it, but Zuko was feeling his own regret about how he’d spoken to you. He didn’t mean to let his anger get the best of him, it just sort of happened. 
“I think I should go out to look for her, she could be freezing to death,” she said, starting to get dressed.
“You can’t, it’s a full blown blizzard,” Zuko said, standing up. 
“Well we can’t just leave her to die out there!” Katara snaps, upset that he would even suggest stopping her from leaving. 
“I know, but only a fire bender would have the resources to survive such severe weather. I’ll go,” he said, making the fire sustainable for the time he’d be gone for. 
“Just be careful,” Katara said as he walked into the cold.
Once he felt just how bad it was outside, his guilt intensified. It wasn’t true what he said about you being a burden. He was just feeling insecure about his own place in the group. Simply projecting his inner turmoil onto you. Knowing it pushed you this far was getting to him. He took a deep breath and started following the faint track you left. Even though a fresh layer of snow was now covering the foot prints, it was still enough to follow. At times Zuko would use his fire for warmth and light. Getting desperate, he began calling your name out. Fatigue was starting to affect him as well. He finally thought he saw you, laying against the animal. He assumed you were just pulling the arrow out but when he got closer he noticed you were passed out. He immediately started assessing you, looking around knowing he had to find shelter that was closer than the rest of the group. Using his fire, he melts a coating of snow and ice, covering a small cave. The animal luckily kept you warm while he wasn’t there but he was still worried about your fingers. They had practically no color and your lips were tinted blue. Once he got you inside the cave, next to the fire he created, he brought the animal in. Impressed that you shot it right through the chest. Taking off his outer layers and bundling you up in them. He was relieved to see the color coming back to your fingertips and cheeks. Checking every once in a while to make sure you were getting too close and burning yourself. 
The two of you wouldn’t be able to make the trip back any time soon, so Zuko began skinning and sectioning off the meat. Washing his hands with melted snow he was slowly collecting. As he roasted the meat, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. Your eyelashes were long and the light from the fire was illuminating your face. Sleeping with your lips slightly parted, hair completely unraveled from the tight bun it once was in. After a couple hours, you slowly began to come too. Sitting up rubbing your eyes, Zuko rushes over to you.
“Are you okay?” he asks, brushing the hair out of your face. He grabbed a bowl of water, bringing it to your lips,
“Sit closer to the fire,” he said, helping you sit up fully. Still weak, you were wobbling while you sat criss-crossed. Still shivering a bit because your back was cold, not able to feel the heat from the fire. Zuko notices this and comes to sit behind you, stabilizing and warming you up. He was using a stick to roast the meat he’d prepared from the animal. It smelt really good, and was the only reason you were keeping your eyes open. He brought the stick to your lips but you were too weak to rip a piece off. Trying to bite a small chunk but not having the strength to actually get a bite. He laughs at your attempt and rips a small piece off, bringing it to your mouth. He repeated this a couple times, giving you sips of water in between. Letting you digest, he rests his chin on top of your head and keeps cooking. After eating, you could feel yourself gaining strength and energy. Becoming more aware of your surroundings.
“What happened?” you asked, looking around and noticing it was only you and Zuko. 
“You went out to hunt and passed out. I came looking for you but the storm was too powerful to travel back to camp with you and the kill. So we're camping here for the night,” he explained, adding more wood to the fire. 
That was when you slowly started putting the pieces of your memory back together. You were grateful to be sheltered now, definitely counting your blessings. Noticing that Zuko wasn’t wearing a shirt, you took off what he gave you. He accepted it but didn’t put it on right away, instead just laying it on his neck like a scarf. 
“I’m sorry for egging you on like that, and for not stopping you from leaving,” he said, moving his chin from your head to your collarbone. 
“It was my decision, I knew it wasn’t a good idea. It was my stubbornness that put both of us at risk,” you said. 
“I like that you're stubborn, that you don’t listen to people who underestimate you,” he said.
“I thought you hated me,” you chuckle. 
“I know that’s what I show but it couldn’t be further than the truth,” he spoke softly. 
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” you asked, moving your back closer against his chest. 
“As mean as I’ve been, you always are so nice and understanding. Even when I don’t deserve it,” he said. 
“Zuko you always deserve it, you’re easy to love,” you say, turning to face him. 
His face was bright red and for the first time you were seeing his vulnerability. Just slightly, like he didn’t want to give too much away. You move his hair out of the way and look at his scar. Although he looked a little embarrassed, he tilted his head so you could get a full look. Without thinking, you started kissing the skin around his eye. He ended up catching your lips with his. Immediately you move so that you’re straddling his lap. His back was pressed against the wall of the cave, your back was facing the fire. Running your fingers through his hair, admiring how soft the strands were. He moaned into your mouth as you pulled and tugged. Rocking your hips against crotch, your stomach tightening after feeling him get hard. You take in a sharp intake of breath and narrow down, focusing on rubbing against his shaft. Zuko’s hips began to buck involuntarily, which led to his taking his pants off. You follow his lead and do the same, also removing your top. Using his hands to rock your hips against his. Partly because he liked spreading your wetness along himself but also enjoying watching your chest bounce. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, you let out a strangled moan. The pleasure was so intense the rocking of your hips was becoming erratic. Seeing you react so intensely to his touch made him go somewhat feral. 
Flipping you over so your back is against the cold ground. He was feverishly kissing your neck and chest, at times making you giggle. He smiled down at you, taking in how beautiful your eyes were in the soft glow of the fire. Your entire body felt like it was burning down to your core. Pulling your knees to your chest, taking the hint he sat up. He was now towering above you, his member laying on your front. Leaking pre-cum onto your lower stomach. He grabs himself, slapping his dick on your pussy. Enjoying the moans and whines coming from your mouth every time he rubbed his tip against your clit. He enjoyed watching you beneath him, desperate for his touch. A relief only he could provide you. Unable to take any more foreplay, he presses into you. Muttering curses as he is overwhelmed by your heat. How tight you felt around him and your moans matching up with his movement made him feel overstimulated. Like he couldn’t slow his heart rate down. Watching as your tits bounced with every thrust, how braindead you were from pleasure. He presses his hands down on your stomach so he could feel this cock pounding in and out of you. The sudden pressure was enough to send you over the edge. Pulling Zuko down and raking your nails down his back, 
“Fuck!” he said it loud, right in your ear. 
His thrusts were unrelenting as he chased his orgasm. Groaning and moaning into your shoulder as he finally came. Rutting into you as he came inside you, pressing himself as close as he could be to you. Petting his hair and whispering encouraging things into his hair. He laid down beside you, pulling you into his chest before covering the two of you with a woven quilt. Giving the fire one last hit before drifting off to sleep with you.
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seventeenpins · 2 months
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a slight miscalculation - pt. i
pairing: Joel x F!Reader
word count: 8.3k
summary: Sarah is off to college, and Joel is about to be living in an empty nest. They road trip out together, and as she spends her first night in her new apartment, he's staying in a nearby hotel. Letting go of his inhibitions for the first time in a long time, he tumbles into a one night stand that becomes very complicated, very quickly.
content/warnings: smut, age gap, mycologist!reader, dick sucking, implied pussy eating, fingering, no outbreak au, reader likes to hike, reader also infodumps, joel miller has a big cock, he also has anxiety, reader has anxiety too, and a cat, reader is in early 20s--exact age not established, one (1) use of daddy, alcohol and weed consumption, joel is a diligent condom wearer, set in present day, discussion of girl scout cookies, joel is sweet and soft and hasn't been eviscerated by the death of his daughter
a/n: I'm intending this to be about five parts. This may change, but right now it's looking like five. I've been struggling to write for a while, unable to focus, but I think I'm back at it? as always, your feedback is hugely appreciated, and i'm kissing all likers and commenters and rebloggers deeply and with tongue 🩷
check out pt. ii
For the first time in nineteen years, Joel is completely adrift. Sarah's starting college in just two months.
It's the kind of realization that hits him like a bucket of ice water, a sudden shock and then an unpleasant trickling of anxiety wrapping about him in nasty tendrils. And then he feels guilty, because he's so, so happy for Sarah because he knows that she's thrilled, but fuck she's gonna be two time zones away and now what's Joel meant to do on Thursday movie nights when he's here without her?
It's terrifying, and it's new. And it's not that he's new to anxiety. He's usually anxious, and he has the Sertraline on his bedside stand to prove it. But if his general anxiety baseline usually hovered around a 6.4, where he was at now far surpassed a 10. It felt exponential, and totally exhausting.
When he voices his fears to Tommy, to Joel's horror, Tommy just doubles over in laughter.
"Jesus, Joel," he wheezes, wiping fake tears from his eyes in exaggerated movements, "You looked so serious I thought you were gonna say you'd killed someone."
Joel scowls. "The fuck you laughing for?"
"She's going to college, it's not like she's dying!"
"How'm I gonna be there for her? What if she needs me? What if-"
"Joel-," Tommy pats him gently on the shoulder, "She can always call you, and you can always call her. And we both know she's got a good head on 'er shoulders."
Joel snorts in concession. "Yeah, yeah. Better than yours and mine put together, and then some."
"Exactly." Tommy agrees, "And if there's ever anything that really goes wrong, you got me. We can drive out together and make sure she's okay."
Joel nods and feels the tiniest bit of tension leave him. One step at a time.
Just over nineteen years ago he found out he was about to be a dad. Suddenly, he had a purpose. Having a kid at twenty-two wasn't something he'd ever intended, but somehow he knew he loved his baby girl from the moment he knew she was a possibility. He spent a solid seven months running around, hustling, doing everything he could to get the very best for his kid. He'd take on doubles, working himself to the bone to make sure they had the best crib, and the best stroller, too. He was thrilled and terrified and so, so green.
Now, his heart feels so big he doesn't know how to handle it. His baby girl is an honest-to-god adult, moving out and going to college, and he has no idea what he's gonna do with his time now.
He has work, of course. But beyond that? He's really gotta to widen his circle, he realises, because who's he gonna hang out with? His brother?
He'd only just turned forty-one and had absolutely not come to terms with an empty nest--the few friends from high school he'd kept in touch with were so much further behind than him. The ones that had kids had them later in their twenties and thirties, and now they're raising middle schoolers while Joel's kid is a real fucking person, leaving home and everything. All the scrapping and saving he'd been doing since before Sarah was born–for his little girl to be able to follow any dream she chose–it was finally paying off. The precocious young woman she is, she graduated early and spent nearly a year working retail to save up some cash. She'd applied to colleges all across the country, and a few international ones, too. Joel had been crossing his fingers for months, hoping she'd choose something near Austin, but cheered with her all the same when she got her acceptance letter from Oregon State University. The previous summer, just before she'd started her applications, she and Joel and Tommy spent a miserable, wonderful week hiking round the Pacific Northwest. She fell in love with it, and the university offered a few of the majors she wanted to consider.
Joel didn't know what he'd do with his baby girl so far away, his life, his reason, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell her that. He will not clip her wings. His baby's gonna change the world and he's not gonna hold her back. He is, though, gonna require regular phone calls and check-ins and god they grow up so fast.
"Y'all should road trip out there," Tommy suggests one night over the dinner table.
Joel knew the conversation of how Sarah would get to the West Coast would come up, and it oughta be sooner rather than later. He was half afraid that she wanted to head out on her own, that she didn't need her dad anymore. Worried she would say she wanted to get a plane ticket, or take the Amtrak all the way to Corvallis. But he knows he needs to loosen his grip a little, so he braces himself when he turns to her.
"What'dya think, Sarah? You wanna be stuck in a car with your old man for a cross-country trip?"
Sarah rolls her eyes, but her face breaks into a grin. "Can we, Dad?"
This was too good to be true, he knew, but he wasn't gonna give up one last opportunity to spend some time with his girl till winter break.
"Course, baby," he tells her, and that flicker of anxiety quells just the tiniest bit.
The next few weeks fly by, and the knot of anxiety in Joel's chest feels like it's consuming him from the inside out. He's taken some time off, more than Sarah or Tommy can remember, but he's constantly trying to suggest ideas for activities to Sarah. For the most part, she's a good sport, understanding how much it means to her dad. She took pity on him, and let him drag her to places that ideally she would've gone to when she was little, but she humored him and he appreciated her dedication. He did his best to step back when she was heading out to spend time with friends--her time here was limited, after all, and she was always a social butterfly.
There are five weeks till classes start, four weeks, three, two, and in the blink of an eye, they're loading up the truck with all of Sarah's things, and Tommy is hugging Sarah goodbye, teary eyed. He gives Joel a hug, too. Joel would never admit it, but fuck he had really needed that hug.
They would take the scenic route. Make a memorable trip of it. Joel would make sure she settles in safe and sound, and then he'd head home.
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6am Sunday.
You wake with a start. It's just over a week before term starts and your entire body aches. Fuck, you think to yourself, definitely overdid it with that last hike.
(The hiking part wasn't itself a problem, but one of the trails had washed out. You thought you'd found your way, but the "easy" three and a half mile hike took about five hours, leaving your calves bruised and your heels blistered.)
You roll over in your hotel room bed and, at the sound of a slight yelp followed by a gentle thud, realise with a sudden start that you just catapulted your cat off the corner.
"Shit, sorry goblin," you tell Spatula, who glares up at you with disdain as he licks at his paw. You reach down and, despite your inadvertent cat launch, he immediately rubs up against your fingertips and lets you scratch behind his ears.
"I'm sorry, baby," you soothe.
He meows, loudly. Howls, really. You take it as an apology accepted.
You sit up properly and look at your phone calendar. Nothing immediate. You don't need to get keys to your new apartment till tomorrow, nor do you meet your roommates till then–they're both moving in today, and moving is already horrible without having to navigate around the belongings of two other people. No, thanks. You can afford one more night at the hotel, and it'll make everything go that little bit more smoothly tomorrow. Besides, you have a bit of reading you'd like to get through, maybe stock up on non-perishables till you have a full-sized fridge, and get to know the city just a little.
You move gingerly, testing the ache in your muscles as you unfold yourself from the position you've been sat in and pull yourself from the bed. It hurts, but not something that won't be fixed with a little movement.
A plan forms. First, a walk, to try and loosen up your tight muscles. Then, errands. You have a whole list, with everything categorised by store, but then you enter IKEA and exit fifteen minutes later, only to find that five and a half hours have passed and it's evening now.
How was it that IKEA harnessed such a malicious power. How could anything harness that?
You need a fucking break. And a goddamn drink.
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"Hey Dad," Sarah calls from the adjacent bedroom as Joel sweats, hauling another box towards her. The drive has been good, but it has been long. His legs ache. His back aches. There are parts of him that he didn't know existed that now ache.
"Yeah?" he calls back.
"Are you sure you're okay with me staying here tonight?"
Joel lets out a breath. He wants to be okay with it. And there's no way his nineteen year old would want to hang out with her dad when she could be spending the very first night in her brand new apartment. But he also wishes she wanted to spend one last night, hanging out in a hotel room with her dad. They could watch shitty movies together. Make the most of the final night before this cataclysmic shift.
But no.
That'd just be him being selfish. He can handle a night by himself. He's gotta handle a whole lotta them soon enough.
"O'course baby," he nods, hoping the smile he's plastered on his face looks totally genuine. "But we're still doin' breakfast in the morning, right?"
She nods, vigorous, and then waves her phone around. "I was looking up places! There's a diner called Tommy's," she laughs, "Wanna try that? 9:30?"
"Let's do it," he smiles, and this one is a little less forced.
"How much more do we have?" Sarah asks, nodding towards the box Joel's still holding.
"Last box," he grunts, "What else can I help with?"
He places the box down and lets out a slight, almost silent whimper. Sarah catches it, though.
"Maybe you should take it easy the rest of the day, Dad," she tells him, "We both know you have old man back."
He rolls his eyes but nods. "Guess you're right," he shrugs, "That my cue to take off?"
Sarah blushes but turns to him sheepishly. "Yeah, I-"
"No need to explain," Joel assures, "I know you must wanna get unpacked and settle in, get to know your roommates an' all."
She jumps up and, almost startling him, wraps her arms around him in a bear hug.
"Love you, dad," she grins, and she squeezes just a little tighter than usual.
He squeezes back, and they both pretend there aren't tears in his eyes.
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As you step through the doors of the hotel bar, you decide you like it. The lighting is comfortably low. It's not loud, but it's not quiet, either. Colorful bottles line the shelves, the light of the filament bulbs glinting off the glass in rainbow prisms.
You take a seat at the bar and give a nod of thanks as the bartender passes you a small menu. It's unsurprisingly extortionate, hotel bar and all, but it'll do.
"Old fashioned, please," you tell the bartender, who nods in response. A minute later, he hands you a glass, delivered with a twist of orange and a cherry on top.
With your first sip, you feel your shoulders start to relax and some of the tension loosen from your body. The warmth of the burn envelops you and your stress starts to unravel, leaving only the buzz feeling good.
You order a second, and as the glass is handed to you, a voice to your right catches your attention.
"This seat taken?" a man asks.
You shake your head and offer a quick smile, gesturing towards it, "All yours."
"Much obliged," he nods, and slips into the backless stool next to yours.
The bartender comes over and passes him the same menu, but without looking at it he asks, "Could I get an old fashioned?"
You smile and catch his eye, tipping your glass towards him. "An excellent choice," you praise, "Though if you don't have a sweet tooth, I'd recommend asking Jeff there if he can go easy on the simple syrup."
"Oh yeah?" He asks, and then he leans in conspiratorially. "T'tell you the truth, I do have a bit of a sweet tooth."
You raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
Suddenly, he breaks into a grin and it's dazzling.
"Yeah," he laughs, "I've got cookies stashed in secret locations all through my house."
You raise an eyebrow. "If I keep 'em in my pantry, my brother'll find 'em and eat 'em all," he explains, "But ever since my kid was a girl scout, I always get cravings for girl scout cookies, so I buy an armful o'boxes and try and preserve 'em throughout the year, till I can replenish."
"What's your favorite girl scout cookie?"
"Caramel deLites, hands down."
"Oh yeah?"
"Absolutely," he nods.
The bartender, Jeff, sets the man's drink down with a clink. You catch one another's eye and both erupt into a fit of laughter.
You're not even sure what's funny. Maybe it's just been a long day? Maybe the whiskey was getting to you?
Whatever it is, it feels good.
The man takes a sip of his drink and lets out an aaaahh and it's goofy and charming and then he extends his hand.
"Joel," he tells you, "Joel Miller". You shake his hand, introduce yourself, and then take a sip of your own drink.
"So, tell me about yourself," you smile, "You coming from out of town?"
"Yes ma'am," he nods, "Come up here from Austin."
"Texas?"
Joel nods.
"That's a long trip."
"Yeah," he laughs, "It really is."
"So, you're a nice Southern boy, huh?"
"Well," he swishes his glass and tries to bite back a smile, "I don't know that I'd go quite so far, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman."
"That so?" you ask and his blush deepens.
"I... have been known to get up to some trouble, but I like to think I've mellowed in my old age." He gestures at the beautiful little smatterings of silver at his temples, and you cackle.
"Okay, that's hot," you tell him and he chokes, but you keep going, "Old age, though? What are you, like, forty?"
He exhales, chagrined. "Forty-one."
You roll your eyes. "That ain't old."
"It feels it sometimes," he smiles, "My kid is grown. My little brother's married with a kid of his own on the way. My back hurts, pretty much all the time."
You snort. You also notice, without trying to look, that he doesn't have a wedding band. Doesn't have a tan line for one, either. Interesting.
"But more than that," he continues, "I guess I feel- I don't know. A little... aimless?"
"Yeah," you nod, and you let the moment sit. "I get that."
He lets out a little breath, and then turns back to you, focused.
"What about you? Where're you from?"
"Oof," you exhale, "All over. Spent a bit of time on the East coast. The Midwest. Lived a few months in the South, even," you tease as you bump your shoulder into his and he laughs. It's a surprisingly familiar gesture, but miraculously comfortable.
"Ever make it to Texas?"
"Naw," you shake your head, "My time in the South was all in Mississippi. After that I moved out to California, and I've been slowly working my way up the West Coast."
"And what have you been enjoying about the West Coast?" Joel asks.
"The mushrooms," you grin, and Joel frowns.
"Like, the kind you get in a little baggy from the dealer down the street, or-?"
"No," you laugh, "Or, well- Okay, sometimes. Gotta say it is great out here for that, too. But I mean fungus as a whole--mushrooms, mold, yeast, lichen. But I'm most interested in mushrooms. They're just really fuckin' cool, and there's so much we don't understand about them. And, they're delicious."
"Huh," Joel ponders, "T'tell you the truth, I've never thought much about mushrooms, besides enjoying 'em as a pizza topping."
"Most people don't," you agree, "But fuck, like-- Okay, so we know there are over five million types of fungi on Earth, but we've identified less than two percent of them. Some fungus aids decomposition. Some fungus is bioluminescent. Some are known worldwide for their delicious flavours, and others are known by the slow, horrible ways they kill you."
Joel raises his eyebrows, and suddenly you feel a little self conscious.
"Sorry, I do this," you laugh, rubbing at the back of your neck, "I get very excited about fungus and manage to alienate everyone around me."
You half expect him to stand up and walk away.
Instead, though, he leans in closer. "Don't apologise," he tells you, "I'm learning something new. Tell me more?"
"No, I should stop. Otherwise I'll never stop talking," you wince.
"How about just one more fungus fact?"
You sit for a minute, pondering. "This is- well, I guess this is one of the reasons I find fungus so fascinating. So, fungus can't photosynthesise the way that plants do--they can't produce their own food from sunshine, and water, and carbon dioxide. Instead, their mycelium-- they're these thread-like networks--they branch out beneath the earth, seeking out food, growing in the direction where it can find the nutrients it needs and breaking down organic material all around them, sometimes living organisms, as a parasite, and sometimes dead organisms as a decomposer, or both. And it's just- It's this hidden world, that exists right beneath the surface even in some of the extreme places on earth, temperature-wise. And most days, we don't even think about it."
You punctuate your thought with a large swallow of your drink, which is half-watered down now that the ice is melted, and doesn't hit quite as hard as you'd hoped, but then you look up at Joel and he's smiling at you, pensive, and--
"That's- That's actually really interesting."
Before you can respond, though, Joel glances at his watch and balks. It is getting late. "Shit," he shakes his head, "I think I oughta call it a night," he says, pulling back. "Early morning tomorrow, and if I stay at the bar I'll just keep drinkin'."
Fuck. That's a dismissal. Of course you went on too much about mushrooms. You'd fucked this up. You'd thought this was going well, but now it felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. "Oh," you nod, matching his posture, and try to swallow down the sudden wave of disappointment. "Of course. Have a good night, Joel."
Joel stands up and then looks you up and down, considering. It's not brazen, but it isn't shy, either. And then understanding flashes across his face.
"Wait- Sorry, that's not how I meant it." He reaches out towards you and you melt into his touch. "I'm messin' this up." He chuckles, but it sounds pained. "Now look, I don't wanna make any presumptions. And I'm really hopin' I'm not coming off as some--dirty old man. Jesus, I haven't done this in a while. But I'm in room 308."
Your eyebrows shoot up. What you'd taken for disinterest was just--nerves?
"I reckon I'll be awake for a while yet. You're welcome to... drop by."
The disappointment melts, making way for a fluttering in your stomach.
"Twenty minutes," you assure him, "308?"
He nods and he brakes into a sheepish grin, shedding what you now realise had been something of an anxious wince. "308."
You watch him leave. When he's out of sight, you toss back the rest of your watery drink and go to pay your tab, but Jeff tells you it was already settled. You thank him and tuck your shaking hands in your pockets. You feel an electricity running through you as you take the elevator up.
When you get back to your room, you hop into the shower, just to freshen up--you keep your hair dry but scrub your body. Once you're clean, you brush your teeth.
Stepping back out of the en suite, you survey the hotel room. Spatula is lounging on the corner of the bed, entirely uninterested in your movements. You top up his dry food bowl and place a kiss between his ears before slipping out.
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When you knock at Joel's door, you hear a slight rustle and clatter and then the door swings open, Joel's staring a little wide-eyed, like he didn't actually expect you to show. He's wearing grey sweats and a Johnny Cash t-shirt that looks like it's been around nearly as long as you have. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, an anxious tell that's desperately endearing.
"C'mon in," he smiles, and you step in, closing the door behind you.
You reach out to cup his face, delighting in the feeling of coarse stubble beneath your fingertips. Your first kiss is chaste. You both lean forward and press your lips to one another gently, exploring.
Then, you let out a little moan and Joel shudders. Heat surges between you, and his hands are cradling your head and brushing your cheek and he's pinning you against the closed door. You're kissing again, nothing chaste remaining, learning the taste of him, his rhythm, the crashing waves of give and take between you.
You wrap one leg around him and smirk when he lets out a throaty groan as you grind against his hard cock. You're pretty sure he's not wearing underwear, the thick bulge seemingly unconstrained in his grey sweats, the whole length pressing against your thigh.
Your head falls back and you let out soft, breathy noises as his lips trace along your collarbone, up your throat, and against that tender little spot behind your ear. When he puts your earlobe between his lips and presses his teeth gently against the skin, your knees go weak and he chuckles, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you up.
"Bed?" he asks, and you breathe yes and then, with a yelp and a throaty chuckle, you're lifted up and spun around and both tumbling into the duvet.
You're grasping at each other, desperate to keep your hands on one another. The only times you part is when you undress, and even then, you're helping each other--pulling the hem of his shirt over his lifted arms, pressing into him as he reaches around and moves to unhook your bra, but then he realises you're not wearing one and lets out a groan, his thumbs brushing alongside the tender skin along your ribs, moving gently as if to cup your breasts, but then he pulls back.
Normally you might wait, do this part slowly, draw out the tease just a little bit longer.
Tonight, though, you're ravenous.
As you fiddle with the buttons of your pants, you tug at the drawstring keeping Joel's sweats on his hips. The bow comes loose in one smooth motion, and he lifts his hips and you pull the sweats down.
Your mouth immediately waters seeing him bare, laid out for you. You watch a bead of precum drip down the head and pool on his belly. The coarse hair of his happy trail glistens with it. He's thick, uncut, and looks painfully hard, his cock head ruddy. "Fuck, you're beautiful," you tell him, and his cheeks redden but he grins. It's boyish, the way he grins, and devastatingly charming.
And, what you're saying is true. His body is gorgeous, something you wish you could sketch. Soft flesh over hard muscle, visible tan lines where his chest and shoulders are noticeably lighter than his arms. The muscles and veins along his throat are driving you absolutely fucking insane as he swallows and looks up at you.
He's got freckles on his shoulders, too, and without thinking, you lower yourself down to kiss at his shoulder. He shakes, just a little, and lets out the most beautiful gasp. It's addictive, pulling these noises from him. You follow the curve of him, giving him a taste of his own medicine--tracing feather-light kisses along his collarbone, up the tendons of his neck, behind his ear. You can feel the blood pulse in his veins as your lips brush along him. Joel goes from panting lightly to full on groaning, rutting his hips up towards you and, frustrated, meeting only air.
"Can I taste you?", you ask, and Joel lets out a half-strangled sound and nods, vigorous.
You scoot back, lower yourself, poke out your tongue and, without any preamble, lick at the slit of his head, tasting the salty, tangy precum.
Joel tips his head back and groans and you decide to be kind. You grasp onto his hips and take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down, inch by inch by inch and now you can feel him at the back of your throat, your saliva dripping down the shaft and collecting in the hair between his thighs.
You bob your head up and down, taking him deeper with each thrust, but your throat is full and there are still inches to go. You relax, doing everything you can to take him deeper, and he starts to thrust up gently.
You let him fuck into your mouth but release one of his hips, allowing him to move as freely as he needs and freeing up your hand, which you shove into your underwear, rubbing furiously at your clit.
It doesn't take much to lose yourself in it, to focus only on the sensation. You're so wet, slick coating your fingers, making the glide that much smoother as you touch yourself. Joel tastes so good, too, the intrusion of his cock the most delicious thing, feeling the way he shudders when you moan, the way he moans when you shudder.
"Fuck-" Joel gasps, and then there's a hand guiding you gently off of him.
You raise an eyebrow. "You okay?"
He swallows, hard, and nods. "More than okay. Felt too fuckin' good."
"Oh yeah?" and you lean down, as if to take him back in your mouth, but he chuckles and pulls you back again.
"It's been... a while. For me. And-" He drags his palm down his face, wearing an almost pained expression. "Christ, you just look too fuckin' good down there, mouth stretched 'round me while you touch yourself. An' it feels too fuckin' good, too. I ain't ready for this to be over yet but if you keep lettin' me fuck your throat like that it's gonna be over real quick. And I wanna feel that pretty pussy myself."
You sit back up and he pulls you towards him so you're straddling him.
"You gonna fuck me, Joel?"
"Yes," he breathes, "Yes, baby, please-"
You do an awkward wobble and then stand up, shedding your pants and letting your panties drop, stepping out of them, one foot and then the other, and the way he's watching you is addictive. He watches you with beautiful eyes, drinking all of you in, and suddenly the moment has changed into one of those quiet, intimate moments where you both exhale a laugh.
You straddle him again, and lean down to kiss him, and the electric current surges up. He grabs you by the jaw, meeting your desperation. His lips on yours are exactly the balm you need and you can taste the whiskey on his breath.
"Feels fucking good," you tell Joel as you slide up and down his length. He's not penetrating you, not yet, but the lips of your pussy are spread and you're gliding along him, feeling his head at your clit and thrusting back till you're nearly seated on his balls.
He watches you, nearly unblinking, drinking it all in. Then, he lets out a groan, and half-sits up, suddenly focused.
"Shit," he closes his eyes in frustration, "I don't have any condoms. Shit shit shit-"
You push him back down and kiss him again. Then, you hop off the bed and sift around in your jean pockets.
"Ah-ha!," you exclaim, once you've found your treasure. Joel raises and eyebrow and you wink. "Saw they were selling them in the lobby. Figured it might be a good idea."
"Shit," Joel laughs, and presses his lips just to the side of your mouth. "Clever girl," he tells you, and a shiver goes up your spine.
He leans to help, but you shoo him away and he watches, entranced, as you neatly open the condom wrapper and, with a small amount of difficulty, roll it down his cock.
"Feeling okay?" You ask him, "Shit, I shoulda gotten the Magnums. Is your dick okay? It's not being choked to death by an inappropriately sized rubber, is it?"
Joel snorts. "We'll manage," he says, and then he grips you by the hips, lines himself up. He draws his knuckles along your cunt and groans, "Fuck, so goddamn wet for me-" and, the moment you look at him and nod, he holds the head of his cock against your drooling lips and presses into you.
It's a big stretch as he lowers you down onto him, the intrusion almost painful, but before you can even take a breath, it melts into absolute pleasure. You've fucked people with longer cocks before, and you've fucked people with girthier cocks before, but never have you fucked someone with a cock that's both this long and thick and it feels like you're being split in two and it's perfect and you realise, with a sudden flip of your stomach, he isn't even fully seated inside you yet.
Then, you manage to focus on the words Joel is saying-that had really just been background noise for the past ten seconds or so-and suddenly you're tuning back in for "Tha's it," his voice low and hoarse, surprisingly gentle, "Good girl, takin' this cock so well, look at you."
His brow is furrowed and he's looking at you with such dark eyes, nearly black, the pupils are so blown. "Just a little more, that's it, just one more inch, you can do it, christ, look at you, takin' all of me."
His tone is reverent and it sets a fire through you. You can feel more slickness build and drip out of you, and from the way he moans, you're certain he can feel it too despite the condom.
"So fuckin' wet," he groans, "Soakin' my cock- grippin' me so nice-Fuck--"
He leans towards you and cradles your head in his hand, kissing you hard.
When you both pull back, you know your lips must be kiss swollen and red. His are--they're soft and bright, and you want to eat him whole.
"You're gonna be the death of me, woman."
He's thrusting into you lazily, holding you in place, but you need more, you need all of him.
You push forward and move his hand from your waist to your clit. As you manoeuvre him, his nostrils flare, and you'd wonder if he was angry, if not for the way you felt his cock stiffen even further inside of you. You start to move your hips, to rub up against the thumb on your clit, and to feel every fucking inch of him.
Urged on by the way he groans, you start to ride him, properly. Holding each other close, you fuck down onto him and he leans back, awed.
"Enjoying the show?" you ask.
"Damn- right- I- am-," Joel breathes, every word punctuated with a shuddering breath after you drive back down onto his cock, "Jesus- you- look- so- good- like- that."
You like being watched. Being admired. It sent an extra thrill through you, and your hips stutter, just a little, and now you're following a new, faster rhythm.
"Fuck, that's it, baby-" he praises, "Shit, yes- bounce on it."
You lean forward and kiss his throat, and then he makes this noise, half-strangled and beautiful.
"Shit, honey-- honey, honey, hold on-," he holds you still and you're glad he has, because your brain hadn't quite processed his words.
He's looking at you so earnestly.
"Baby, if you keep ridin' me like this I am gonna blow my load in the next twenty seconds and I don't wanna end this quite so soon."
You hum, a moment of consideration. You stare into his eyes, and part of it is calculated seduction, but another part is getting genuinely lost in the way he looks at you. The crinkles round his eyes. The way he seems able to focus on you, in a way that feels as frightening as it is exhilarating.
"How about this," You smile, "You get yours, and then you can eat me out till I get mine. And if you're ready to go again by the time I've come, we can see where we're at then. Hmm?"
You see a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and take a moment to appreciate how much he's clearly trying to control himself.
After a moments of avoiding your eye, he looks at you again and he looks utterly wrecked. "You- talkin' like that?" He shakes his head and tries to even his breath. "Fuck, I nearly came right there."
"It's okay," you soothe, and you cup his jaw and resume you movements, riding him like you had before. "You can come if you need to-" your fingertips stroke the stubble of his chin, "You're close, huh? It's okay, daddy, you can let go."
Joel lets out a strangled noise and busts immediately.
You savor the way it feels, the pulse of his cock as he spills into you. No, into the condom, you correct yourself, but you can always pretend-
After his balls relax and you can feel him start to get soft, you hold the condom down as you pull yourself off, and you're nearly unseated when there's a sudden squelch noise that sends you both into tumbles of laughter.
It takes a while to calm down, and you find yourselves heaving, tangled in the sheets, and wrapped up in each other. The condom is hanging limply on Joel's now-soft cock and it's oddly cold and gooey as you accidentally roll against it, and that sends you both off again.
"Fuck," Joel snorts, and tugs at the condom, starting to roll it off his length, "I'd almost forgotten the weird texture of a used condom. Fuckin'... Slug-like."
"That-" you declare, "Is visceral. And I hate it. Thanks."
He snorts, and you suddenly have a question.
"Condoms not making too many appearances in your life?"
"Not many, no."
"What, you usually fuck raw?"
"Just haven't been sleepin' with anyone," he shrugs, nonplussed.
"Well, I gotta say, the good people of Austin have been missing out."
Joel shrugs again, and it comes off as casual, but you notice the way his ears tint pink. "Just- not been something I did. But now, I guess, I can. And with way less guilt."
"Why guilt? Are-" you venture, dread pooling in your stomach, "Are you married?"
His eyes flit up to you sharply, and then soften immediately. He lets out a breath and shakes his head. "No. Nothin' like that. I was married, but I've been divorced nearly twenty years now."
The tightness immediately uncoils and you realise how tense you were only a moment ago. I am not a cog in the machine of a collapsing marriage. Thank fuck.
But now your curiosity is piqued. "So... why the guilt?"
"Sorry, I- I really didn't mean to get into it. I'd rather not get into it. It's- complicated."
"Of course," you shrug, and it isn't a problem because this is just a hot fantasy hookup that you'll remember fondly, and it'll be wonderful masturbation fuel for probably the rest of your life, but you don't wanna make the poor guy go into his life's trauma, especially when he's looking at you so fucking earnestly and you are actually really fucking fascinated but no, you would not let this become a problem.
"Thanks," he says, and then steps out of the room. You hear the clang of the bin as he steps on the pedal, then drops the condom, takes a piss and washes his hands.
"You hungry?" He asks, and you realize very suddenly, you're absolutely famished.
"Yes," you jump up and he laughs when you run, bare-assed and shameless, over to the corner of the room filled with brochures and traveller info and finally, you raise it in triumph when you find it, the list of nearby takeaways.
"Okay," you look at the list, "There's one place at the top of the list here that's apparently highly rated, but I actually have plans there soon and I wanna wait till then to eat there. Hope that's okay."
Joel comes over to you and rests his head on your shoulder. "No problem."
"But... alright," you continue. "There's pizza. Or... more pizza. Or, look--there's a Southern-style place, that'll make you feel right at home!" Joel pokes you in the side and you swat at him as he grunts a laugh.
Suddenly, a warning sound starts playing on loop in your brain. It was dreadfully domestic, wasn't it? This was an absolute stranger you'd just met in a hotel bar? But... it also felt... nice? And it felt nice in ways that you'd never found yourself enjoying before. Even with long-term partners. Maybe because this was so low-stakes, you reasoned, such an inevitably temporary situation, so you weren't putting the same kind of pressure on yourself.
As soon as you think that, the eternal curse of overthinking shows itself and you suddenly feel desperately self conscious. Before you can pull away and make some excuse, though, Joel's arm wraps around you and his thumb starts rubbing little circles into a tender bit of skin between your hip and your tummy. The anxiety spiral you'd been teetering on the edge of suddenly vanishes.
"How about-," he nods at the list, "Pizza?"
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After Joel calls in your order, the pizza delivery service tells you to expect your food in about thirty minutes. You remember you have a little box of edibles. You ask Joel if he minds if you take one, and he doesn't. You offer him one, and he automatically declines, but then as he starts to explain, he pauses and pivots, goes "Wait, actually. Yeah. Why not?"
A freckled kid who looks no more than sixteen pulls up with a short stack of pizza boxes and a two liter bottle of root beer. He raps awkwardly on the door after exactly thirty five minutes, and it swings open.
The room looks utterly wrecked, clothing strewn along every surface. Joel answers the door wearing a robe, his entire face smelling of sex, and his moustache still shining with the slick of your release.
"Thanks, kid," Joel nods, and hands him a small wad of cash. The kid eyes him and shrugs. "Keep the change," he tells him, and the door swings back shut.
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The edibles have hit beautifully. You're both blissed out, comfortably hazy, lost in the sensation of bare limbs on bedsheets and the flavors of the pizza and it's assorted sauces. You lay together on the bed, paper plates strewn between you. In the background, an X-Files rerun plays.
"Ooh!" You sit up as you catch the premise of the episode, "I love this one! See the goo? There's a giant fungal... entity.. that's working on digesting them, and giving them hallucinations as they die."
"You and mushrooms, huh?" Joel laughs, but then looks back at the episode and contemplates the viscous yellow goo. "Jesus christ," he frowns, and sniffs, now contemplating the mushrooms on his pizza slice.
You spot his glare and snort. "I think you're safe."
He takes another bite and shakes his head as if to clear it.
"I'm getting tired," he admits.
"Me too," you agree.
"No pressure, but in case it wasn't clear, you're welcome to stay the night here."
"That's sweet," you tell him, and think it over. "If I took you up on that, would you be offended if I slip out early?"
Joel raises a brow.
"I have a cat," you explain, "And I'm working on moving into a new place, and meeting a friend for breakfast, and then I need to check out after breakfast because I won't be able to get my keys for the new place until the breakfast but I can't take my cat to a diner-"
You take a breath.
"Basically, I've got a bunch of things I need to do in the morning, but if you don't mind me slipping out around, maybe, 5-ish, then I'd love to stay."
He stares at you.
You regret saying as much as you said. You don't need to over-explain yourself to this actual stranger. He doesn't care. There's no reason for him to care. He's probably in it just for the fuck, and it was fun and if you stay then there's a chance the two of you will wake up at some point in the night, still horny and lustful and you might fuck again and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't part of the draw. You realise, though, you'd also be lying if you said you didn't care what he thought of you. All of a sudden, you are overwhelmed with caring what this man thinks of you.
How fucking inconvenient.
"I wouldn't be offended at all," Joel chews, swallows, wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and speaks again. "What's your cat's name?"
You don't know what you'd expected he'd say, but it wasn't that. You buffer for a moment. "It's- Spatula."
"Spatula?"
"Yep." You feel foolish.
"Huh. Spatula."
A silent moment between you.
"Got any pictures?"
You weren't expecting that, either. "I... do? Do you want to see them?" He nods. You pull out your phone to scroll through.
Joel, suddenly scrambled around for his phone, too. It was late and he hadn't checked it for hours. Had it been on silent? What if Sarah had called and he'd missed it?
His panic eased when he saw he had only two notifications. Both from Sarah, but neither were bad. He hadn't been neglecting any crises. The first text was a selfie of Sarah and an unfamiliar person, which she'd texted to him with the caption New roomie!! The second contained an address to the place they'd have breakfast tomorrow along with Just wanted you to know I've invited a friend to join us tomorrow morning! Is that okay? Realized I should maybe have checked with you? 😬
There was an ache in his chest. He wanted to keep her to himself, get to spend one last day, just the two of them. It was the start of a whole new chapter, but more than anything, he wished he could hold onto the moment for just a second longer.
But Sarah was stressed, he knew this, so he wasn't gonna make it worse and put this burden on her. He could handle it. He had to handle it. He typed back- No problem, baby. Can't wait to meet your friend.
After a moment, he followed up with another text. Gonna turn in now. Good nite!
The less he texted right now, the better. He did not want Sarah to know anything about the night he was having.
His screen lit up a moment later. Night Dad! He takes a deep breath and wills some of the tension away.
He slips his phone aside and you scoot into bed next to him.
"This," you announce, "Is Spatula."
Joel scrolls thru, his brows raising higher with each image.
With a single nod, he opens his mouth and instead of speaking, he collapses into laughter. It comes out a wheeze- "I-- I know this won't make any sense, but your cat looks just like my goddamn brother."
You're laughing now too, both of you almost hysterical, even though you have no frame of reference. You cherish the absurdity.
Then, Joel pulls up a picture on his phone and shows you, and now you're doubling over again because his brother looks exactly like Spatula.
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You don't remember falling asleep. You curse your body's internal clock because you wake up right at 5am, and even though you know you should get up and leave, you wish you could have just a little bit longer.
It's such a comfortable way to wake up. One arm is folded under your pillow, and the other is slung over Joel's hip. He's asleep, snoring softly, and strands of his hair are mussed along his forehead. Your hand is holding his tummy, but you realise there's something pressing against the heel of your hand, and then realise, with a delicious jolt, that he's hard and straining against his boxers.
It's so fucking hard to get out of that bed, but with enough barely-effective reminders--you're gonna fuck up your whole day if you're late, gotta make a good impression, Spatula's gonna be so disappointed if you're late with his breakfast--you manage to bully yourself out of the warm and wonderful bed containing blankets and absolutely fantastic dick, and you tiptoe through the room, dress quickly, and, after making a note and leaving it on his bedside stand, you slip out.
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Joel wakes up with a jolt, and then rolls over to see that the alarm clock (which he dared not contemplate the number of times he must have snoozed) was telling him it was 9:13.
He was late. Really fucking late. And then the panic made his brain spin faster and that's when he noticed the note on his bedside table.
I had a really good time If you're in town for a little longer, don't be a stranger?
It's followed with your name and phone number, and a rather detailed mushroom sketch across the page. He wasn't sure what kind of mushroom it was, but it was beautiful, and clearly hand-drawn, and for whatever reason you'd decided to tear it out of, presumably, your sketchbook? And you gave it to him, and he's gonna read that note and replay last night for the rest of his fucking life. It felt incredibly precious. He placed it in a book so it wouldn't get creased or folded. Made sure it was all contained and neat, totally flat in between the pages.
Then, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.
After scrubbing the smell of sex off of his entire body, he dresses quickly and checks his watch again. 9:28.
He texts Sarah and lets her know he's a few minutes behind. She responds with an eye roll emoji.
Joel settles in his truck and pulls up directions. It's only a few minutes away. He won't be too late.
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When Joel steps into the diner, he's charmed by it. It's old school, with a checkerboard floor and bright red vinyl seats. He scans the room till he spots Sarah in a booth in the corner. She's laughing over a hot chocolate, and her friend must be in the seat opposite her.
He catches Sarah's eye and she grins at him, waving him over.
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You've been at the diner about fifteen minutes, and you and Sarah are already getting along beautifully.
You'd met on a university message board and had become fast friends, but meeting someone in person was always a little terrifying. On top of that, you'd already committed to spending at least one (academic) year with this person, so you were damn sure gonna make it work.
Sarah waves over her dad. You can't see him yet, the back of the booth too high.
But then he's standing right there.
You already have a hand outstretched, but when he sees you and you see him, your stomach flips and dread runs through you. All the color drains from his face. He looks like a deer in headlights, and you'd be surprised if you didn't look the same.
Sarah looks between you, not quite concerned, but definitely confused. Sarah smiles and tries to diffuse the situation.
"Hi dad!" She grins, "This is my new roommate! Well, the other new roommate--the one in the picture, their name is Ellie, they weren't able to make it this morning. BUT. Breakfast seemed like a great time to hand off keys!"
Joel is still frozen and white-faced. Your brain whirs, and you know you've just fucking catapulted yourself into a disastrous mess, but you do your very best to save face.
Reaching your hand out further so he can't possibly miss it, he gives into some familiar social instinct, takes it and you shake. You think of his hands, how they dragged along your body last night, touched you, felt you, wrecked you.
You introduce yourself. He nods, avoiding eye contact.
"Joel." He grunts. "Miller."
Sarah frowns at him, but turns back to the menu.
This- was unexpected. Problematic. Arguably, really fucked up. All of those things and more. But it'll be fine.
All throughout breakfast, you repeat that to yourself, letting the words bounce around your head. It will be fine, you repeat your mantra, it will be fine, and you try not to feel too hurt at the way Joel's avoiding eye contact as if simply looking at you will cause him unimaginable disgust.
Everything will be fine.
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Note: The fic's premise is loosely based on the book Mistakes Were Made which is a fucking excellent sapphic romance novel that utilises this trope. Would strongly recommend the book if you're into smutty queer stories.
1K notes · View notes
worldsover · 4 months
Text
Better Things ft. Karina, Ningning
length ✦ 7k
genres ✧ toxic relationship; cuckquean; cockwarming; degradation; needy subby gf!Ningning, hook-up!Karina
✦✧✦✧✦✧
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Ningning is a doormat.
Ningning is your girlfriend.
Ningning is some girl who lives with you and if she were your girlfriend, you probably would have had sex with her before a dozen other women. If she were your girlfriend, you probably wouldn't have had sex with those women. If she weren't a doormat, she would have left when she caught you in bed with another girl the first time. Would have left when you made her watch the seventh time. Would have left after she ate your creampie out of some random girl you just met at a club. That's why you can't even bring yourself to feel guilty about taking advantage of her.
Well, that, and new pussy's better than guilt.
But to say better implies some level of good. It's fine. You're exhausted. Exhausted from work. Exhausted from dealing with people. You're so exhausted, yet Ningning greets you in the doorway with open arms and a warm hug like she has all the energy in the world. Like you've ever given her an ounce of that energy back. She's wearing a red tank top that shows off her cleavage and short shorts that cling to her toned legs. That could've worked before, could've made you carry her straight to the bedroom.
The doormat must have waited where the doormat belonged, all day, as it tightens its embrace.
Ningning releases you and gives you a chaste kiss on the cheek. The sweetest smile on her face. Eyes like your next words are precious gold. "Welcome home, babe."
Could've made you feel warm inside. You have no gold left to give. "Work was shit."
"I'm sorry," Ningning responds. "You seem stressed." She leans in for another kiss, trying to comfort and soothe you with her affection. Give Ningning an inch or six or seven, and she'll take 26 miles. You don't have the energy for a marathon.
You pull away. "I'm tired," you say dismissively, already making your way to the couch without acknowledging her further.
Ningning pouts. "Right. Of course. Go rest on the couch. I'll get you a drink."
She returns with a glass of water, but you wish it were something stronger as she settles in beside you on the couch. "You're really are tense, babe," she says with concern, running her hands over your shoulders and neck. "I... I could help. Daddy."
Your pet name sounds forced, calculated out of her mouth. It has been too long since you've truly desired or pleasured Ningning, and she makes sure you're aware of it every time she tries to initiate intimacy with you. And even when she does manage to catch your attention, it's only because other women have used her as an unwilling participant in their own sexual encounters with you.
So when she begs and pleads with you now, it's easy to brush off her advances and ignore her kisses. But as she continues to whisper promises and titles like "Take your stress out on me" and "Daddy's good girl," a dark idea begins to form in your mind.
Suddenly, Ningning's hand slips down to stroke you through your trousers and her lips attach themselves to your neck like a leech. She must sense the shift in your demeanor because she becomes more desperate and persistent in her seduction.
You remain silent, mulling over her offer. Suddenly, Ningning's grip tightens on your bulge and she exclaims "Daddy! See? You're getting hard already. That means I can use me now, right? Please, I'll be so good for you."
The rush getting to your head makes you reply in earnest for the first time. "You're right."
Ningning gasps softly, her lips forming a grin. "I-I am?"
"Yep. I need a good fuck."
Her hand slips from your pants as she springs up, jubilant and bouncing with excitement. "Yes! You deserve it," she exclaims, her eyes shining with glee. "How do you want me? Which hole do you want to jerk off with? To dump your cum into?"
You pull out your phone.
Instantly, her joy turns to disappointment as she realizes what this means. "Daddy...why? But...but why?"
You open Tinder and show her all the matches you have.
"No." She pouts, her face genuinely forlorn. "No, please, no, Daddy, I'll do anything. Not another random whore. I've been so good, I did such a good job getting you hard. Why do these sluts get your cock?"
"You barely did shit. You're not good, you're just desperate."
"Please!" She's back to clinging to your arm, back to giving you desperate pecks on your cheek and wherever she can peck, but you don't let her kiss your lips, turning your face away. "Kiss me, use me, anything! What do I have to do? Stroke your cock faster? Gag on your big Daddy dick? Be your personal porn star all day? Please, tell me, I, I need you so bad."
Your gaze vacillates between her and your phone.
"Your cum, I need it. I need you to stretch me out. Daddy, I need you to grope me, throw me around, force your dick down my throat, anything, please, I need you! Please, use your bitch."
You have made your decision. "Maybe later. After I hook up with a hotter girl. You can have seconds."
She has to hold back a tear, shuddering, trembling in frustration. "Later?"
You nod and look down at her, sternly.
"Okay. Yes. Of course, yes, Daddy, you need to… feel good after, after a stressful day. Seeing you happy is more important, and I'm not doing a good enough job."
"You're not."
She swallows hard. "Yeah. So if one of those sluts can make you feel better than me... I suppose I can wait my turn." The kisses that punctuate each of her words, that travel to wherever you allow them, slow down. She has left marks and saliva all over you.
"Are you done?" You hold up your phone. "If you want me to use you sooner, then I'll have to find someone sooner, right?"
"Yes, I understand." She sits up, her hands clasped together demurely. "Wait. But, you're still hard."
"And?"
"May I suck you, Daddy?" she asks.
You shake your head. "I've got better things to do with my time than you."
Ningning begs with her eyes, pouting and pleading. "I know, I know. I'm just a useless needy slut who can't satisfy you... but at least I can warm your cock with my mouth. Right? I'll keep quiet while servicing your cock and you can keep swiping on Tinder."
You lean back in thought.
"You know I can be a good cock warmer for you. If that's all I'm good for… please?"
You examine her face—adorable and needy—her lips twitching as if she's about to burst into tears. She is right. Those very lips are heavenly wrapped around your shaft, sipping and slurping on your cockhead. "Fine," you say.
"Yay!" she celebrates. "Thank you, oh my god, thank you, Daddy." She gives you one last kiss on the lips before going to her place. On her knees, between your legs, in front of the couch. It'd only be more appropriate with your feet on her.
Your focus remains on your phone as you begin searching for a hot girl to hook up with.
"It's been so long since I tasted your—"
"I thought this was for my pleasure," you say. Hearing her speak instead of feeling her mouth on your cock annoys you.
"Sorry. You're right. This is for you. Doesn't matter what I want." She unbuckles your belt and pulls down your trousers.
You nod as you return your attention to the phone screen. You've been picky with the girls you swipe for, but this time, you're looking for anyone with a hot face and nice tits. While your girlfriend is certainly cute, she doesn't exactly fulfill those criteria, especially not now. Especially not tits.
Ningning presses her face against your underwear and takes a long whiff, a smile growing. She runs her tongue on your boxers, marking them with some saliva; its dampness seeps through the fabric.
Grabbing her hair, you say, "Dumb bitch, begging for scraps, did I ask you to do that?" You yank, causing her to wince in pain.
"Ow, n-no. I'm sorry, Daddy." After looking into her eyes for a few seconds, you let go of her hair, then Ningning immediately frees your cock. She's mesmerized as if she's never seen it before, and you find the target of her attention: the leaking pre-cum. She can't help herself from giving your tip a kiss. "Okay, you can keep swiping," she says. "I'll make you feel so good while you find a tight hole to use."
You don't respond, instead doing just as stated. Left, left, left, left, left. It's looking like one of those evenings. The only plus side is the simple sensation of pleasure as Ningning suckles slowly like a lollipop.
"Do my lips feel good? Is it nice having your pet warm your cock while you find prettier whores?" Truthfully, if there's one thing Ningning is expert at, it's sending shivers through your body with her mouth. She explores every inch of your cock with her tongue, skillfully tracing along the ridges and then sliding back down to your shaft.
Finally, you find a few pretty girls here and there. It's still many more left swipes than right, but most of the women you swipe match immediately. However, you lose interest in most quickly.
"Ah, I, I luhhv, this, cah…" In between Ningning talking with a mouthful, you relish in the sounds of quiet sucking. It distracts you from your ankle-shallow conversations, the dumb pickup lines, the straightforward advances.
You're tempted to grab her hair again and shove her lips down the base until she chokes and gags, but then Tinder would've been a waste of time anyway.
With her lips so diligently latched to your shaft, Ningning starts to drool. You give her one glance, and she immediately starts to lick your shaft clean. "I love cleaning your cock. That's all I'm good for, I know. I love being on my knees for you, having your perfect dick in my mouth, looking up at you and seeing your lust… e-even if it's for other girls." A hint of sadness in her voice. But even as she knows she will never be enough for you, she finds pleasure in submitting to your desires and being on her knees for you. And despite her words, her actions show that she loves it just as much as you do—if not more.
The lazy blowjob continues for some time, your erection carefully nurtured by Ningning's lips. You finally find the match you're looking for, the hottest girl you've ever seen in your life. Karina, 23. Every picture hardens your dick more than anything this cockwarmer toy of a woman can do. Whether it's a casual crop top or an elegant low-cut black dress, her ample cleavage leaves little to the imagination. Karina was the one for tonight. Your conversation with her quickly becomes sexual, which becomes an invite to your place.
Ningning notices your smile. "Did you get a match?" she asks gleefully. "Did you find a new pretty whore to break?" Her lips are more active on your shaft now, gliding up and down with renewed enthusiasm.
"Yep."
"Ahh." She releases your shaft, sticking out her tongue as saliva bridges from her bottom lip to your tip. With puppy dog eyes, she looks up at you and timidly asks, "I-is she prettier than me?"
"Duh." You show her Karina's pictures. "She has bigger tits too."
Ningning looks down. "That's great, Daddy," she says quietly. She perks herself up by kissing your dick. "I'm glad you found a better whore to fuck. When will she be here?"
"In a few hours."
"Okay, Daddy. I'll take care of this cock. I'll keep it nice and warm and wet. You can just relax until she arrives. " She returns to her duty, her lips a pillowy cushion, and she sucks with no complaint.
You idly browse your phone while Ningning keeps her lips sealed around your shaft like it's the most precious thing in the world. When you get up for snacks, she follows you around the house, never letting go of your cock for fear of losing it forever. Returning to the couch, you lie down and watch some shows while Ningning remains on her knees, expertly sucking away.
It's not until you receive the text that Karina is on her way that you finally pull a half-asleep Ningning off of your dick. You quickly gather yourself and prepare for Karina's arrival.
The doorbell rings. You answer the door. Your jaw practically drops to the floor when you open the door. Karina stands before you, clad in a tight pink tube top that shows off the toned shape of her midriff and accentuates the weightiness of her ample breasts. So much skin on display that you hardly know where to look first. A tantalizing hint of vanilla fills the air, adding to the already-charged atmosphere.
"Hello, handsome," she purrs, her voice naturally sultry. She leans in for a kiss before even stepping inside.
The kiss lingers longer than expected, your tongues dancing with a hint of alcohol, perhaps wine. Her hands find their way to your shoulders while yours rest on her waist, reveling in the softness of her smooth skin. Eventually, you release each other from the passionate embrace. "Wow. Hello, Karina. You look absolutely stunning."
"Aw, thank you."
You invite her inside. "Make yourself comfortable."
"I'm glad we matched so quick. Your pics were such a tease." Karina pokes you in the chest.
"And I'm glad you accepted my invite," you reply with a grin.
She giggles. "How could I say no? Straight to the point. And trust me, I could definitely blow off some steam today." Karina scans the living room, then freezes when she notices Ningning sitting there.
You bury your face in your hands; you completely forgot about her.
"Who's that?" Karina asks with an arched eyebrow. "You didn't mention anyone else joining us."
Ningning speaks up: "I'm Dad—"
"She's nobody," you say.
Karina laughs, her gaze lingering on Ningning's figure. "Nobody? Really?" She turns back to you with an impish grin. "Well, she's quite gorgeous. Maybe she could join us and make things even more fun?"
Ningning practically bounces in her seat. "That would be amazing! Can I please join, Daddy?"
Karina runs her hand down your chest, causing you to catch your breath. "So she calls you 'Daddy', huh? That's interesting." Her eyes flicker over Ningning before returning to you with an impish glint. "Well then… what do you say… 'Daddy'?"
Hearing the pet name spoken by Karina in such a seductive tone sends a shiver down your spine, and you release a quick exhale. "Just you and me. All night long."
"Ooh, when you put it like that…" Karina trails off with a smirk. "You better not disappoint." She wraps her arm around your neck and goes in for a deep kiss, your lips locked together as your tongues swirl in each other's mouths. At this moment, it's easy for you to forget about your own girlfriend waiting in the living room, stumbling inside while still entwined with Karina.
"Daddy, p-please, I'll behave," Ningning stutters out from behind you. "I can make you feel good too. I promise, I'll be a good girl."
Karina's lips part from yours with a soft moan, and the sound thrums through your body like a sweet melody. More than anything else, you want to hear the notes of those moans louder and harder and over and over again. Karina catches sight of Ningning watching them from the corner of her eye and chuckles playfully. "Oh, honey, look at that face. She looks like she's about to cry."
"Ignore her."
Karina smirks—a deadly thing. "Ignore her, huh? Sure." She gives you one last lingering kiss before breaking away with a satisfied sigh. "Now show me where your bathroom is so I can freshen up."
You lead the way, but before you can show Karina into the bathroom, you get distracted by the creamy skin of her neck and begin kissing it fervently. Your kisses trail back up to her lips, and once again your tongues dance together. You've kissed Karina more in the past few minutes than you have your girlfriend in a long time.
Karina shudders when you pull away. "Ffuck, this is gonna be an incredible night, huh?" She runs a hand through your hair before giving you a sly smile. "You're such a good kisser. No wonder you have her wrapped around your finger… say, what's her name?"
"Doesn't matter. Just think of her like my house pet."
Karina's teeth sink into her bottom lip. "Damn. Okay," she says, nodding, "get comfy in your bedroom, babe. I'll be ready in just a moment."
You nod and watch as Karina disappears into the bathroom. When you head back to the living room, you find Ningning quietly sobbing to herself.
Holding her chin with a firm and unyielding grip, you force Ningning to look at you, and her eyes widen in fear. "What the fuck?"
"Wh-what?" Ningning sniffles.
Giving her cheek a few light slaps, you scowl at her. "Don't 'what' me, or give me those puppy dog eyes. Why the fuck are you still here?"
"I-I, I'm sorry," Ningning stammers through her sobs. "I don't know... I thought maybe I could join in or take care of you afterwards or..."
Echoes of a crack, you land a harder slap on her cheek, leaving a red mark behind. "I am not fucking you!" you snap. "Do you really think I would waste my time with someone like you when I have a goddess like Karina in my home?" You let out a heavy sigh. "What am I going to do with you?"
Ningning avoids making eye contact as she apologizes once again.
"Fine," you say, standing up. "Follow me to my room."
"Really?"
"Just do as I say."
You sit down on the edge of your bed and point to the floor in front of you, a spot that is all too familiar for Ningning. She obeys without question, kneeling by your crotch as you tug down your pants and underwear to reveal your soft cock. You then yank Ningning's head down towards your lap.
"What do I—" she starts but is cut off by your hiss.
"Are you stupid? What have you been doing for the past few hours?"
Ningning whimpers quietly. "Yes, Daddy." She begins stroking you with her small hand.
"Use your mouth," you command.
"Right, right." She quickly swallows your member, her lips dragging along its flaccid length. As you harden in her mouth, she gags when it hits the back of her throat, but diligently she cleans up all the saliva.
You close your eyes, picturing Karina instead, and after a few minutes, pictures in your mind materialize as the door opens.
"Hey, what do you think—" Karina's voice trails off as she sees Ningning between your legs, servicing your now fully erect cock. "I thought you said she wasn't joining us," she says with a giggle.
"Well, I'm just using her to get you ready for me," you reply. Despite the ministrations of Ningning's lips and tongue, your attention is solely focused on the woman standing in front of you.
Karina steps closer, her eyes fixated on Ningning. "That's such a turn on, seeing her between your legs like that," Karina says, smirking.
Ningning moans happily as she continues to orally service your dick.
"Look at her," Karina says, "such a cute thing."
"No, look at you," you reply. "That top looks perfect on you. Your body's perfect."
"Thank you, babe. I wore this just for tonight." Karina brings her hands to her chest, and you must be drooling when she squeezes. "You like?"
You nod. "You're the hottest girl I've ever seen, Karina."
Ningning lets out a sad whimper around your cock.
Karina sits down on the edge of the bed next to you, watching intently as Ningning works to get your cock even harder with her mouth. "Wow, your cock is perfect. She's almost got you ready for me." She grabs your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss.
You're in a new endless world of bliss, Karina's lips on yours, Ningning's lips on your cock. The sound of her blowjob is noisy, wet, sloppy, but you notice only the moans coming out of Karina's mouth into yours. And even better than that is when Karina presses her full breasts against your arm, giving you visions of what's to come—hours of playing with those breasts greedily between your fingers.
Again, when Karina releases the kiss, she lets out a light moan, and it's the prettiest thing you've heard. "I can't wait to ride that big fucking cock."
"You don't have to wait." With a firm grip on Ningning's hair, you pull her off your cock and toss her onto the floor with a gentle thud. "Get a condom for me," you command.
Ningning lays on the ground, spit-covered lips quivering. She can't make eye contact with you or Karina. "Yes, Daddy."
Karina's legs rub together. "She's such an obedient girl." She brings her legs over and straddles you before she starts making out with you once again.
Though your hands are all over her body, they naturally find their way toward her breasts.
"Yeah, fuck, touch me," Karina says breathily, "feel me up."
"Your tits are incredible, holy shit."
"Just having your pet isn't enough for you?" Karina asks playfully.
You shake your head. "But you're more than enough."
Karina's lips press firmly against yours, her teeth grazing your lower lip in excitement. As you deepen the kiss, you can taste the faint hint of her lip gloss mingled with the subtle tang of your own blood. Her hands begin to explore, trailing down your body until they reach your shaft. Like Ningning before her, she struggles to fully wrap her fingers around your girth. "Fuck, you're so thick," she whispers in awe.
You let out a deep groan as Karina starts to twist and slide her hand up and down your wettened cock. Just then, Ningning's soft voice interrupts your passion-filled moment. "Here's the condom, Daddy," she says softly.
"Put it on with that dirty little mouth of yours."
Karina giggles then brings her lips back on yours, brings her tongue back into your mouth.
"You, you really want me to…"
You give her a stern look.
"Of, of course, Daddy. Whatever you want," she nervously replies before awkwardly scooting towards where you're sitting. You can see that she's struggling to find the space between you and Karina straddling your lap. Eventually, you hear the sound of the condom packet opening and feel Ningning putting it on with her mouth.
Karina's moans get louder, and she runs her hands through your hair.
"It's on, Daddy," Ningning announces timidly as she sits next to you, her hands resting meekly on her thighs.
You and Karina seem to want to kiss forever, Karina especially reveling in the spectator; however, she breaks it first. "Get on your back," she says, her eyes piercing into yours. "I'm riding you and this fucking beautiful dick into the bed."
As you both shuffle around and get comfortable, you push Ningning aside to the corner of the bed. You sink into the pillows while Karina kneels above you, gazing at you with hungry desire.
Ningning's tiny voice is barely audible as she begs, "Can I watch? Please, Daddy?" Her eyes gleam with admiration and delight at the sight of you and Karina together. "I love seeing you feel good. I promise I'll be quiet, I won't interrupt."
There might have been words in your right ear.
Karina laughs as she positions her slender figure over your cock. She takes hold of it and guides it towards her entrance with expert precision. "Are you just ignoring her? That's pretty fucking…" She sinks down into your length and moans loudly, musically. "Hot, oh, fuck, you feel so good." Her pussy clings closely, warm and snug around you.
Feeling dizzy with pleasure, you grab onto her shapely hips as she moves on top of you. She moans in response and adjusts to fit your entire length inside of her, her hand feeling your hardness through her slim waist.
"Wait, fuck, please. Don't move yet." Karina gasps. She begins to gyrate her hips back and forth, causing your head to spin even more. With that body and those tits and that tight hole and that impossibly perfect face contorting with bliss, any man could cum before the first thrust. But somehow, you manage to resist as she begins lifting herself, then fucking into you slowly. "That's, that's it. Nngh."
All the while, your eyes are dead set on her tits, waiting to watch them in action.
As Karina drops herself down onto you again, coating your dick with her juices, she starts to bounce at a steady rhythm. Even though they are confined by fabric, her ample breasts jiggle enticingly with each motion. "Fuck, that's too good," Karina says, moaning, closing her eyes. Then, she opens them as she looks over to where Ningning is squirming. "Aww, look how she's eyeing your cock. When was the last time you fucked her?"
"Hm. Maybe a month ago."
"God, you're so mean to her. I can't imagine depriving someone of this amazing dick." She moans as your length hits a particularly sensitive spot inside her, and then she leans down to grab your face. "I love it." There, she kisses you while her ride starts to intensify. You love the weight of her tits, and the loud slapping sound of her ass bearing down over and over.
"I'll come back later, Daddy." Ningning's voice is filled with dejection before fading away.
As Karina rides you cowgirl style, she sits up straight once again, her toes curling, her breasts bouncing, and her hair flying around her. You reach for her tube top, and she helps pull it up. You didn't think this ride could get better—then, the drop, as her boobs are set free. There's a magical ripple, so plenty for your eyes to feast on. And while the way her tits drop is hypnotizing, the way they bounce without the restraint of fabric is even more so. Karina brings her arms up and you assist her in removing the top completely before flinging it aside, leaving both of you bare and vulnerable to each other's touch.
In this new position, sitting up against the headboard, you lean in to kiss Karina deeply before trailing down to explore every inch of her body. Your lips linger at her long neck, her defined collarbone, and her lithe arms, but always find their way back to her luscious breasts where you suck on each pink nipple with fervor.
"Yeah, yeah, fuck, just like that, I'm so, so sensitive there." Karina moans breathlessly as she grinds against your cock. Her body vibrates with pleasure, and you can feel the clench of her cunt around your cock, tightening and relaxing with every deep thrust.
As you notice her soft mewling turn into breathy gasps, you intensify your actions: while your lips are latched to one of her firm nipples, and one hand is massaging her other breast thoroughly, your free hand goes down to her clit, rubbing in neat circles, causing her to arch her back and cry out in pleasure.
"Fuck, yes! Gonna, gonna cum!" Her words are punctuated by deep groans of pleasure, and you revel in her vocal responses, the sound of her deeper voice more harmonious to your ears than your girlfriend's high-pitched cries.
Her legs tremble as she slows down, giving you the opportunity to take control. You thrust upwards with determination, while simultaneously stimulating every sensitive spot on her body. Karina throws her head back, and she cums on your cock gracefully; you give her no quarter, pounding her through every pulse of her orgasm. Her cunt's tight grip makes you lightheaded, but you continue as a machine, worshipping her tits with your mouth and fingers, playing with her clit, until she's driven to new heights of pleasure.
After many long and languid inhales and exhales, Karina sighs contentedly, her body sated from the intense lovemaking. "I haven't cum that good in so long. Fuck." She pulls you close and kisses you deeply like the gratitude spoken didn't just escape her tongue. "So you haven't fucked her like this in a month? I almost feel bad for her."
"Don't."
"Sure." Karina playfully taps your shoulders, her fingers dancing over your skin. "Well then, I think it's only fair that I reward you for that."
With a soft wet pop, she lifts herself off of your slick member, the condom shining in the dim light of the room. She kneels before you, hunger in her eyes as she looks at your throbbing cock. Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips in anticipation.
"Do you have another condom?" she asks.
"Yeah, it's over by the drawer," you reply, still trying to catch your breath from the intense ride.
She scoffs. "Yet you made her… whatever." Karina's fingers graze your skin as she peels off the condom, the cool sensation a stark contrast to the heat emanating from her body. "Trust me, this much feels better. Plus I want to taste your precum."
She aligns your shaft between her perfect breasts, the soft sensation of them cushioning your cock. "Fuck, Karina. I've never done this before," you say with a gasp.
"Figured as much. Your other plaything's tiny tits could never compare to this, right?" Karina smirks before letting a glob of spit drip from her lips. Your dominant tendencies seem to have rubbed off on her and it turns you on even more.
But what really turns you on is the warmth and plushness of her breasts against your sensitive skin. She takes charge, using her skilled hands to stroke your cock as she holds her breasts together, creating a delicious pressure. Her movements are both gentle and firm as she guides you between her cleavage with precision. Each time your tip pokes out from between her breasts, she gives it a lick or a kiss that sends shivers through your body and elicits groans from deep within your lungs. And every time she does so, she manages to get just enough of the taste that she craves, as she keeps you on a plateau of pleasure and causes you to leak beads of semen.
You can't help but move your hips in rhythm with her while she continues to stroke you with her breasts. She notices and soon lets you take control, allowing you to thrust at your own pace. When you feel yourself getting closer to climax, you slow down and start kneading her breasts—first softly, then harder as your desire and arousal build. You treat her absurd body with the roughness it deserves, pulling her up from her knees by her malleable tits. "Oh, shit," Karina says as you throw her onto the bed, "I love how rough you are."
Eventually, the two of you end up fucking in every corner of the bedroom, finding places where you haven't fucked Ningning or even any other woman. You have Karina arched over the dresser as you enter her from behind, her moans mingling with the sound of rattling wood. You carry Karina, both hands sinking into the flesh of her buttcheeks, giving you both a workout. You two move to the floor, where a torrid round of reverse cowgirl shows off how her ass was as perfect an asset as her tits.
But the most intense and primal position is when you have her pinned against the door, her breasts and face pressed against it, her arm pulled back as you fuck her standing—well, she's only standing because your cock is propping her up, her legs jelly. In this frenzy, Karina is both a willing participant and a willing object, surrendering herself to the pleasure that awaits in each new position and location.
"Yes, yes! Just like that!" Karina cries out as sweat drips down her back; you lean over to taste the saltiness as you nibble on her neck.
And right there, in that position against the door, you make Karina cum again. This time, she squirts violently and her release sprays onto your legs, onto the floor, clear liquid making a mess between her thighs. You hear a whine from the other side of the door. You can't ever be accused of neglecting your girlfriend of her needs.
As if drawn by an uncontrollable magnetism, the two of you find your way back to where you started: you lying on the bed, and Karina riding the life out of you. Her breasts bounce with each thrust and your hands can't resist kneading them roughly. Red marks appear on her otherwise flawless skin, adding to the passionate chaos of the room. This roughness only intensifies Karina's tightness around your cock as she begs for more.
"You love it when I'm rough?" You growl into her ear. "Love feeling this big dick pounding into you?"
"God, yes! Fuck me back!" Karina exclaims.
Suddenly, Ningning opens the door. "Daddy, I just—"
But she's interrupted as Karina shouts and another wave of orgasm wracks through her body, causing her to pull away from you, too sensitive to continue. "Oh... my god," she says, out of breath. "I can't believe you made me cum again." Karina's lips dive into your neck, her wetness dripping down your thighs onto the sheets that you and Ningning share.
"Ningning's whisper breaks through the heavy atmosphere, her voice tinged with concern. "I just wanted to check up on you," she says softly. "You've been at it for a while. It's almost midnight."
Karina disentangles herself from the crook of your neck and moves to lay her head on your chest. Looking at Ningning with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she lets out a playful laugh. "Yeah, he's been fucking me senseless for a while now. Damn, he's good."
A smirk spreads across your face.
"I...uh..." Ningning struggles to find the right words, unsure whether to express pride or sadness.
"You just wanted to watch, didn't you?" Karina says, running her hand down your bare chest. "You naughty little thing."
You chime in, "Oh, I know her well. She was listening the whole time, pressed against the door with her ear. I could hear her." You'd ask if she made herself cum. You don't care.
A blush creeps onto Ningning's cheeks as she nods shyly.
"Wow, she is soo needy." Karina looks down and notices that your erection is still going strong. "Fuckin' hell, you stud. Haven't cum yet?"
"Nope."
Karina peels herself off of you and lies down next to you on the bed. "Here, I'll lay down so you can pound my pussy until you cum. Does that sound good to you?"
You waste no time positioning your cock between her legs, then you grab her ankles and place them over your shoulders.
"Oh shit, yes..." She draws in a sharp breath as you thrust into her all at once, causing her eyes to roll back in ecstasy. "God, fuck, I'm still so turned on..." Her words become moans as you piston into her, your primal instincts taking over.
You watch as Karina's irresistible breasts jiggle with each and every thrust, her soaked pussy gripping onto you tightly.
"You don't care if she watches do you?" Karina giggles like she's drunk off your cock. "Looks like, ngh, you don't care what she does at all. Hnn…" She looks at Ningning, who is standing by the door, unable to look away. Karina pats the bed to her. "Come here, join us on the bed. You can get a closer look at Daddy's cock going in and out of me. Don't you want to see how I please your Daddy? Watch him fuck my brains out. Watch why he's choosing me over you."
"Daddy, wait—"
Karina moans. "Hurry up or get out, I don't think your Daddy gives a fuck."
Ningning only hesitates one more second before dragging her feet over to the bed.
"Good girl," Karina praises as Ningning lies down next to her obediently.
"Can you touch me, Daddy? Please? Or will you just hold my hand while you—"
You swat her hand away when she reaches out towards you, causing Karina to erupt in laughter. "Looks like she'll just have to watch."
You kiss Karina like you love her, like she's your girlfriend, or your wife, or your long-lost love you haven't seen in years. It must be breaking Ningning's heart, but you can't see or care, with Karina's face the only face in your mind. The only reminders of Ningning's presence are the occasional whimpers and moans that escape from her lips.
"Come on, babe," Karina urges with a fierce kiss, "don't hold back. I want to make you cum in front of her." She places her hand on your chest, slowing your movements. "Flip me over and rail me, babe. Give me everything she wants."
You swiftly pull out and bring Karina to her hands and knees.
"Ooh, that's it." She moans loudly as you push her head down and thrust into her from behind. Her back arches, showcasing the perfect curve of her ass.
As your movements become more forceful, Karina's moans echo through the room and she clings to the sheets with desperation. You finally make eye contact with Ningning, her hands buried in her shorts and her breath ragged as she watches you and Karina together.
"God, you're so rough. Yes!" Karina shouts.
Meanwhile, Ningning's gasps and moans grow louder as she tries to pleasure herself. Despite her best efforts, it seems that nothing can satisfy her.
"Do it," Karina says, looking back, "cum for me!"
All of the sensations come crashing together—the movement of Karina's body, the tightness of her pussy around you, and the sight of your girlfriend watching as you fuck another woman. With one final rough slam, you burst inside Karina, gripping her ass cheeks and calling out her name. Every last drop is drained from your balls as you fill the condom to the seams.
After the intense pulsations subside, you loosen your grip on Karina's ass and she collapses onto the bed, breathing heavily and moaning in satisfaction. "Holy fuck. That was amazing," she says between giggles. She notices that Ningning has not stopped pleasuring herself this entire time, her fingers slick with wetness as they slide in and out of her swollen folds. "Looks like I'm not the only one who thought so. You enjoy seeing your man blow his load in another woman so much, don't you? Are you pretending to be me right now?"
You are surprised by Karina's bold words, but not surprised at Ningning's increased moans and trembling body as she reaches her desperate climax because of those words, likely making a mess of her underwear.
"That's so hot," Karina purrs with a wiggle of her hips. Your half-hard cock remains inside of her as she speaks. "Give me a few more thrusts before you pull out."
You oblige, gazing up at the ceiling while Karina wrings every last bit of pleasure from you into the condom. She disentangles herself from you and leans in for a kiss.
"Mmh, that was fun. We should do that again sometime. Oh, and can I use your shower?" Karina asks.
"Of course," you reply. "Actually, do you mind if I join you in a sec?"
She nods, smiling. "Sure, babe. That sounds nice." Karina heads to the shower with a flick of her hair over her shoulder, drawing the attention of both you and Ningning to her toned buttocks.
Ningning lies on the bed, spent on her own self-pleasure. "Did, mmnh, did you have fun, Daddy? Was she good for you?"
Stretching, you remove the condom from your now-flaccid member. "The best."
"Nnh." Her breathing quickens. "That looks good."
You offer her the condom, almost filled to the brim with your load.
"F-for me? Really, Daddy? I can have your yummy cum?"
"Sure."
She's excited for the first time in a while. "Yes! Thank you! Oh, thank you, thank you, Daddy!" Ningning takes the cum-filled condom and brings it to her lips, drinking the cum out like a woman parched in the desert. Her lips make wet, sucking noises as she swallows up the thick, sticky globs of semen. "Oh god, Daddy, you taste so good."
Each gulp of cum elicits a moan from Ningning as she savors it. You can tell that she's still sore from her last orgasm, and despite that, her hand snakes its way back down to fingerfuck herself again. She keeps the condom in her mouth for a while, making sure she doesn't miss out on a drop, turning it inside out to be sure—even when it's empty, she gets herself off again with her lips wrapped around the used protection.
As Ningning prepares to bring herself to another climax using the condom around her fingers as a substitute for your cock, you excuse yourself and head to the shower. What a doormat does with her time does not concern you. You have a shower to hop into and an actual woman to enjoy it with.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
AFF, AO3
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periwinkla · 1 month
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I think what I love the most about AA is that characters have a duality to them that I don't see often in media. They have actual flaws and do actual bad things, and it's not glossed over. Phoenix is a fundamentally good person, he helps people at the drop of a hat, risks his life for them. Has a penchant for taking strays under his wing. He believes in people... but also not really. He carries a literal lie detector with him at all times, and only employs people who can also peer into other people's hearts. So is he really that trusting? Sure he trusts his clients are innocent, but he doesn't trust they will tell him the truth at all (there's always something to lie about). He believes himself naive, and that's why he works extra hard not to be. Some people think he changed with his disbarment but I feel like when he actually changed was after Dahlia. He became less and less trusting as time went on. And Phoenix actually does forge evidence and risks his subordinate's career, and he says pretty nasty things sometimes (that one time to Edgeworth had got to hurt, badly, especially if you consider that the note could have been genuine at first, which we don't know for sure), has a pretty tactless and somewhat hurtful sense of humor, brings his daughter to cheat at poker, and doesn't tell said daughter she actually has some family left alive. He's secretive, elusive and cryptic, and masks it under a false pretence of goofiness. Miles is, by contrast, very easy to read. He may appear emotionally stunted but is one of the more emphathetic characters. He realizes when he's wrong and immediately needs to correct those wrongs. He grows uneasy and uncertain and eventually recognizes when he's mistaken. By the end of it he begins to help people naturally, without even thinking about it as much as he would have in the past. He helps so many people, he has basically got Phoenix's savior complex 2.0 but the healthy kind where he doesn't jump off a bridge. But... he was also actually cruel, and did send innocent people to their graves (was he really so naive to believe whichever defendant came his way was guilty?). He feigned his death disregarding other people's feelings, and while you could say he had no obligation towards Phoenix (apart from basic decency and respect towards someone who had turned his life around to save him), he still abandoned Franziska, who was still just a kid and had just discovered her father was a psychopath. She probably thought, at some point, that the apple didn't fall that far from the tree. That's it's somehow her fault as well. He may be rude and antagonistic, frank to a fault. Isn't afraid of telling stuff to your face. But he also cares about the people he loves so much, to the point he doesn't hesitate to risk his career and break the law multiple times. He may appear a pessimist but he's pretty idealistic at heart, it's quite funny that his favourite show is about an hero of justice, isn't it? Godot is... well, we don't know much about it from before his coma, but he definitely shared Mia's sentiments for helping people in their hour of need. But when he wakes from a 6-year coma he's so broken that he just pins the blame on the most absurd person to blame it on, settles on a complicated plan, and also prosecutes on that particular murder he should just confess upon. Iris was sweet, innocent, self-sacrificing. She knew absolutely nothing about the world apart from what Bikini or her sister told her. She was naive and falsely thought she could fix everything, that her sister was salvageable, that she could save Phoenix. But she still ended up lying to the person she loved and abetting a murder. That's why I love these characters so much. They're interesting and their stories make sense. People don't remain unchanged from what happens to them. People are multi-faceted and complex. You can't sum them up in a bunch of characteristics and aspect them to act on every single one of them, always, consistently. Sometimes people break. They make mistakes they regret, ...and some they don't.
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taeyeonschild · 9 months
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《sleeping apart, after a fight || Hyung line ver.》
—————————————————
pairing: hyung line (separate) x reader
genre: fluff, angst. (i think… i don’t actually know what i’m talking about)
contains: literally a copy of the last one 🥶
warnings: uhhhh i don’t think any?
A/N: i feel like i used all my decent ideas on the maknae version. but i’m trying…. OKAY??? 😖
what do i write after this???? this was my only idea 😭😭 oh no.
I AM TAKING REQUESTS!!! GIVE ME IDEAS TO WRITE NEXT PLEASE 🙏🙏🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️
hyung line | maknae line
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Bangchan
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“I’m gonna spend the night at the dorms tonight. Sleep well, darling.” He grabs his keys and leaves your apartment without another word..
You hadn’t expected this argument to become as large as it had.
All you had wanted was to communicate your needs. you have been feeling neglected recently, as he has spent so much time working, way more than usual. You understand his commitment to his work, to stay, and to the kids, but you just wish he could try to make time for you too.
You didn’t mean for this to become such a huge fight.. But it did, and now you have the apartment to yourself for the night..
It is lonely.
You sob on the living room couch for a while, but eventually, you drag yourself to bed.
Chan’s night isn’t much better than yours…
He spent the whole evening locked in his bedroom at the dorms, ignoring when the kids questioned his sudden arrival. The guilt of the fight eats him away, and he stays up the whole night, regretting the fight.
If he’d have just stopped arguing, and taken taken a deep breath, to try consider your side of the argument, he’d have realized that he has been neglecting you.
Just because it wasn’t intentional doesn’t mean it wasn’t happening…
You have one of the worst sleeps of your life, rolling back and forth, unable to get comfortable in the big, empty, cold bed. You can’t help but feel lonely, and guilty.
Ugh, you’re so sensitive… If you hadn’t have complained about this one little issue, then everything would’ve been fine… why did you do that.
You wake up the next morning, with the same empty, lonely, feeling. You miss your boyfriend even more than you miss him when he’s off at work..
You pick up your phone, and see three missed calls, and a series of texts… all from….. Chan.
“Hey Y/n.”
“I’m sorry about our fight.”
“I wasn’t listening to you at all, and now I’ve thought about your side, and I’ve realized that you are completely correct. I have been distant recently, it’s just been very difficult for me to balance everything in my life, and it’s not fair of me to take that out on you. I really do love you, and I know that I need to do better, to make sure that you know that.”
“You’re not replying, so your probably asleep still.”
“Or you’ve turned your phone off..”
“I’m gonna take the day off, to talk this through with you. I want to fix things”
“Let me know when you wake up, and I’ll come back. I want you to rest as much as you can, so I can come whenever you’re ready.”
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Minho
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“Oh my god i need to get away from you! I’m spending the night at Hana’s.”
You grab your keys and rush out of the apartment towards your best friend’s place. You just need space, even if it’s only for one night. You need time to arrange your thoughts, and decide what you really want out of this argument.
Minho understands, he knows that you need space, and he will gladly give it to you. But that doesn’t mean he is happy to spend the night alone.
He sits on the couch for a few minutes, unsure of what to do after you’ve left. He sighs, then picks up his phone, and dials your best friend Hana.
You have texted Hana from his phone before, when yours has died, so he has her number saved.
“Hey Hana. Could you let me know when Y/n gets there? I just wanna make sure she’s safe.”
Hana agrees, like the best friend that she is.
He hangs up the phone, and stares up at the ceiling. Even though he misses you already, he is glad to have a moment apart.
This gives you both time to process your thoughts, and next time, you can presume this maturely, and talk it through.
You both have faith that this will be over in the next 24 hours.
He gets a call from Hana a while later.
“Great. I’m glad she’s okay. Tell her I love her for me… and Goodnight. Sleep well, both of you.”
Hana tells you the news, she’d never be one to keep anything from you.
You are thankful to have a boyfriend who, even through his anger, still cares enough to make sure you got to your destination safely.
After a few hours apart, you manage to process this battle, and you put your stubbornness asside, to text him.
“I’m sorry about our fight.”
“I forgive you, I hope you can forgive me.”
“We can talk about the issue later, and resolve it together, if you are ready.”
“I love you too”
By the time you get back home in the morning, he is already sitting at the dining table, ready to talk with you, and ready to fix everything that you had both screwed up the night before.
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Changbin
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“Sleep on the couch. I want you away from me” you say, spitting venom from your teeth. You throw a pillow and blanket at him, before you turn around and poop yourself down on the bed, and turn away from him.
“Uh, but I-“
You turn to see him again, the blades shooting from your eyes shut him up easily, and he nods, before leaving you alone in the bedroom.
You are mad, but not only at him. You’re whole day has been pretty bad, and you just need a break. It’s been one of those days, when you wake up sweaty, you’re out of shampoo, you stub your toe on the coffee table, you drop your breakfast, and all of your coworkers are angry. Your argument with Changbin didn’t make any of this better.
He understands that you need a moment to breathe, but he also doesn’t want to go to sleep like this.
He takes a seat on the couch, but doesn’t bother to set up a bed there. He knows that he’s not actually gonna be spending the night on the couch.
You regret snapping, but you’re stuck sitting on the edge of the bed. Apologizing is too much for you, in your current state.
When enough time has passed, Changbin decides you’ve probably cooled down, he walks back into the bedroom.
Immediately, he is spotted by the door, but the look on your face isn’t nearly as harsh as before. Maybe there’s even a tinge of regret in your gaze.
“Hi jagi. I know you’re mad at me. I’m a little mad too.. But I think, we can solve this in a better way.”
“Can we talk this out? If not, we can just take opposite sides of the bed, and we can discuss this in the morning? What would you rather jagiya?”
His face instantly turns to that of concern and worry when he notices a tear falling down your cheek. He understands.
You spend the rest of the night cuddling in bed, ranting about your whole day, and you both completely forget about the entire argument.
The only reminder in the morning, is the pillow and blanket on the floor beside the couch, which tells you that Changbin never intended on listening to you in the first place.
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Hyunjin
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You are tired. It is late. Way to late to be arguing about something so trivial.
You quietly pick up your pillow, and make your way into the living room with no other words.
Hyunjin watches as you leave, stunned by your sudden action, but also saddened. He takes a deep breath before calling after you.
“Y/nnnnnnn!!”
He calls, in his whiny voice, which usually you find cute, but now it only irks you further.
He sits in silence for a moment, considering his next move, before slowly getting off the bed, and walking to the living room.
“Y/n… I’m- I’m sorry… please, I don’t want to fight with you. Can we talk this out?”
It is way too late to talk. You are tired, and all you have the energy for, is sleep. You ignore his begging, and close your eyes.
He crouched infront of you, and gently strokes your hair.
“Y/n… please look at me darling. I’m sorry… I never meant to hurt you. I don’t want this argument to end with you sleeping on the couch. Can we talk this out?”
Tears fall down his cheeks, he’s always had a flare for the dramatics.
“I’m tired Jinnie.” you put all of your energy into three words.
“Y/n, I know you’re tired… I know I messed up… and I know this isn’t easy for us. but… can we please not go to sleep like this? please… I don’t want us to end the day like this…”
You roll over to face him, your heart breaks at the sight of him. He’s clearly messed up about this.
“I don’t have the energy to figure this out right now” You speak gently, trying your hardest not to upset the poor boy any further.
You carefully move your fingers up his cheeks, and wipe away the tears, pretending that you don’t also have tears soaking onto your pillow.
“that’s okay… we don’t have to. But the thought of you sleeping in the living room breaks my heart… can we just… I don’t know… hold onto eachother tonight?”
That’s exactly what you do… you climb off of the couch, as he leads you back to bed. You spend the night with your limbs tangled together, as if you hadn’t been in a yelling match just an hour beforehand.
But one thing about being in a relationship with Hyunjin, is that he is impossible to stay angry at.
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junkdrawerfics · 3 months
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You're Scaring Me
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Jasper Hale X Reader
Summary: Request - Can you write one where the reader does something major told her not to do and he gets mad when he finds out and then jasper tries to console her and she’s jus really guilty and upset and then the major comes back out and they talk it thru.
Word Count: 3558
Warning: Angsty maybe. Obviously some unhealthy anger stuff, but it ends well, I promise.
Note: I liked the idea of doing something with the wolves, but felt Jasper/the Major wouldn't ask you to stay away from people, especially if they were your friends. So I took a route regarding reader's safety, since he'd totally go feral over that.
---
Saying Forks was in the middle of a blizzard would be an under exaggeration.
You’d never seen snow like this. You could barely see past your front porch, it was coming down so hard. School had been canceled, of course, and Emmett had convinced the family it would be fun to try hunting with the added challenge of not being able to see.
Jasper had hesitated to join at first, to leave you alone in this storm since your parents were away, but it only took a little soft convincing from you for him to relent.
On one term, at least
“Please stay here ‘til we get back,” the blond repeats worriedly as he puts on a coat - that he doesn’t need, you might add
“It’s not that bad out, Jasper,” you chuckle, eyes glued out the window.
“Darlin.”
His voice shifts subtly. You blink, glancing back at him over your shoulder. Jasper stares right back at you, eyes narrowed, a familiar intensity burning behind them. Your body figures it out before you do, fine hairs standing on end, pupils dilating. A sharp contradiction to the smile that lights up your face.
“Yes, Major?” You ask, barely missing a beat. 
The man takes a step towards you, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders straight. It’d be intimidating if you didn’t know better.
“You goin’ to listen for me?” He asks, voice low, accent thicker than before.
“Of course, Major.”
The barest flicker of a smile pulls at the vampire’s lips. Such a sweet thing. The way you look at him - all wide, puppy dog eyes, attentive and loving - it makes him feel raw with the need to protect you, even if it’s just from the blizzard.
Tender in a way he’s never been, the Major touches your chin, drawing close enough that he can feel your warm breath stutter against his lips as he murmurs, “Then be a good girl and stay put for me. I don’t want you out in this weather.”
You can’t help but soften, fondness curling in your chest. He really is just a soft teddy bear at his core. 
“You don’t have to worry about me,” you insist, curling your arms around his waist, “I won’t go out, I promise.”
“Good.” The Major closes the small gap between you, lips pressing against yours in an unrelenting kiss. It’s all you can do to keep yourself upright as his hand curls along your jaw, drawing you closer, closer, until your head is spinning from the feeling. You’d think he’s going off to war again by the way he kisses you.
You can barely catch your breath when he pulls away. Heat blooms across your cheeks, and you bury your face in his chest to hide it, which earns a low chuckle from the blond. He presses another kiss to your temple, this one softer, gentler.
“Love you, darlin,” he murmurs, all honey and sweet and Jasper again.
You melt against him, voice muffled by his sweater, “Love you too, Jazz. Stay safe, please.”
“I won’t be long,” he reassures you, “Emmett will give in when he realizes all the animals are hidin’ from the weather.”
You huff a laugh. Perhaps. Emmett is stubborn, reckless, and stubbornly reckless. Once he has an idea in his mind, it’s hard to get him off it, like today. But you’re sure Jasper’s right. He’ll give up once he gets bored.
“I’ll hold you to that mister. I’ll be lonely without you.”
“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” He leans down, catching your lips one final time. You can feel his grin through the kiss. “Just a couple hours, darlin’. I’ll drag him back if I have to after that.”
He’s still reluctant to leave, but the nagging worries are quieter now, enough that he can drag himself from the comfort of your touch to join his brothers outside. You watch them disappear into the haze of snow, like ghosts, before shuffling back to your kitchen to work on some homework.
It shouldn’t be so hard to stay busy until they get back. Right?
---
That’s what you thought, at least. But one hour quickly turns to two, which quickly turns to three and still no Jasper. By the fifth hour, you’ve finished all your work and find yourself staring into an empty fridge with a growling stomach.
Of course your parents would forget to stock up before going on a business trip.
Chewing the inside of your cheek, you glance outside. It’s still snowing, but not…as bad. You could probably make it to the grocery store and back without any problems. And you’d probably get back before they do, so Jasper wouldn’t even know.
Everything would be fine.
You layer up, tucking a scarf tightly around your neck. It might be a little lighter outside, but it’s still well below freezing. It’ll be quick, though. The grocer is maybe a five minute walk, and you only need a couple things.
Popping your hood up, you grab your house keys and venture out, shuffling the whole way there.
---
“Brave of you to venture out in this,” the cashier chimes, scanning your microwave meal and milk - you figure you might as well get stuff for breakfast too.
“Didn’t have much of a choice,” you hum shakily, teeth still chattering as you hand him some cash, “I’d rather be cold for a bit instead of going hungry.”
“Fair ‘nough!” The cash register dings and he hands you some change. “Stay safe out there, miss.”
“Thanks.” You cast him a smile, “You too. Hope it clears up a bit before you have to leave.”
“God willing.”
You slip your gloves back on and heave the bag of supplies from the counter. 
On the walk back, you’re a little less careful, eyes wandering as you tread through the snow. The journey here hadn’t been so bad. Sure you’d almost slipped a few times, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it’d be. It was actually almost nice, once your face went numb at least.
Your thoughts wander to the food in your hands, pace picking up a bit as you think about how nice a warm meal will be after this. And well earned after a long day of work and a hazardous journey to get it. Maybe you could cuddle up on the couch and turn on a movie while you eat. That sounds ni-
-and you’re falling.
You screech, boots slipping against the ice as the world tilts wildly. Instinctually, your eyes squeeze shut and you wait for the impact, hoping your layers might be enough to cushion the fall.
They are, thankfully. But they aren’t enough to stop your ankle from twisting as you tumble a bit off the sidewalk.
The pain is instant. It pulses up your leg, sharp and fiery compared to the cold seeping into your bones. You suck in a sharp breath, teeth gritting as you bury your face in the snow. It’s all you can do to keep yourself from crying, that stinging sensation starting in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat.
God, you’re so screwed.
“Darlin, I’m back,” Jasper calls out softly, brushing the ice from his hair as he slips into your warm house.
Almost instantly, he can tell something’s wrong. Jasper stops, brow furrowing. Usually you’d be bounding up to tackle him by now, a beautiful smile on your lips, asking how things went. It’s something constant, a custom he enjoys more than he’ll admit.
There’s no greeting this time, though. Even as he stills, focusing on the sounds of the house, he can’t hear a thing. No footsteps, no heartbeat. It’s eerily silent, empty. 
You’re not here.
An uneasy feeling settles in his chest. Jasper speeds through the house, checking each room, hoping his ears are just tricking him. Maybe you’re just asleep or reading in some corner. With each empty room, though, the feeling worsens, gripping him by the throat, unrelenting and violent. He’s spiraling, he knows it, can tell he’s walking along an all too familiar edge, blurred between himself and-
The Major pauses at the door to your bedroom. Empty. Your coat isn’t where you usually leave it. Neither are your boots. It leaves little doubt in his mind where you’ve gone.
You didn’t listen to him. 
The blond takes a slow breath, holding back the anger that washes over him, white hot and smoldering. 
It’s rare for you to not listen to him. You know his none-too-gentle requests are for your safety, they always are. Because while Jasper would rather die a million times than see you hurt, the Major would bring the world to its knees if it meant keeping you safe. He’s never had something as good as you in his life and the need to protect that, to protect you, well - that drives him to his knees. And now you’re out in this storm. By yourself.
The door slams as he throws himself back out into the snow to find you.
---
The snow is picking up, you notice glumly as you carefully flip over in the snow. Even the slightest movement makes pain prickle up your leg, but you can’t lay face down in the snow much longer, not with how you’re quickly losing feeling in your nose.
You sniffle, swiping at your eyes to keep the tears away. What are you supposed to do now? It’s not like you can stay out here. Frostbite doesn’t exactly sound appealing, but neither does the idea of limping home with this pain. You could call…No, no, he’d be so mad. You can’t call Jasper.
Not that fate really cares about what you think.
You squeak when a pair of arms suddenly lifts you out of the snow. The only thing that keeps you from screaming is the familiar cold touch of your captor and the mess of blond hair flickering in the snowy breeze. The fear slowly disappears when you realize it’s just Jasper.
Quickly replaced by a tight, anxious feeling in your chest when you see the tense set of his jaw and how the lines in his neck stand out under his pale skin. He’s upset. He’s upset with you and your ankle is still throbbing and your eyes are stinging again and-
You inhale shakily, an apology ready to spill off your lips, but the look he gives you makes it all die on your tongue. His usually stoic expression turns dark, eyes narrowed with barely restrained anger.
“You open that mouth, sugar, and I promise I won’t be goin’ easy on you,” he drawls, low and heavy, accent dripping off each word.
Not Jasper. You bite your lip, eyes immediately dropping to your lap. Definitely not Jasper.
You can’t bring yourself to break the stifling silence after that. Not when you can practically feel the Major’s anger radiating from him, which does nothing to ease the turmoil swirling inside of you. The soldier is never this open with his emotions, usually so careful to maintain a mask of indifference. With each step, you can feel the tension rising, his grip tightening, and your chest almost hurts from how hard your heart is beating.
It all comes to a head when you make it to the house. The moment your feet hit the ground, and he knows you're safe, the reins of his control slip, an uncontainable rage burning through him.
“I told you not to go out,” he mutters, pacing back and forth in your small entryway. 
He can’t stay still, too scared of what he could do. Every cell in his body desires to pin you against the wall, handle you rough and selfish, make you realize how awful it felt to come back and find you gone. But he can’t. He won’t. That’s not what you deserve, he knows that. Jasper would be better at this, he would be gentle, but the Major has never been good at gentle.
You blink at him, wide-eyed from the door. It’s like watching a lion pace at the bars of a zoo, except there’s nothing between you and him. Nothing to keep you safe except him. He could do anything and you wouldn’t be able to stop him. You’re just a human, after all. And the Major has had his share of violence. Even though you know he would never hurt you, you can’t stop your hands from shaking.
“I wasn’t, I wasn’t going to be out long,” you try and explain, digging your fingers into the material of your coat, “I promise-”
“You promised you’d stay put,” he drawls roughly, hands clenching behind his back.
“I was just goi- going to get food!”
The blond grits his teeth, his usual impassive tone sharpening, “What on earth were you thinkin’?”
“I- I thought I’d be back before you,” you spit out, and immediately snap your mouth shut.
The Major stops pacing, every muscle in his body going rigid. You bite your cheek, pulse racing as he slowly turns to you, those gold eyes burning so dark you swear they almost look red. Like blood. Something tightens in your chest. That was the wrong thing to say.
“So you purposefully disobeyed my orders?”
“I didn’t-”
“You decided to be foolish and risk your life goin’ out in this storm,” he growls, slowly closing the space between you, “without anyone knowin’?”
You shrink back a little, panic clouding your head. The Major stops in front of you, frame towering over yours, making you feel impossibly small. Tears prick at your eyes as you shuffle back against the door, pain shooting up your leg as you put weight on it.
“Answer me, darlin.” He doesn’t relent, eyes burning into you. Waiting.
A lump forms in your throat. You bite your cheek, desperate to keep the tears at bay, eyes glued to his boots. You can’t. You can’t do this.
But the blood drains from your face when a fist slams into the door beside you, practically splintering the wood. You can feel it shake against you before settling into silence.
“I’m not goin’ to ask again, (Y/n),” he murmurs, deadly calm again.
You hold your breath, slowly bringing your eyes back up to the Major, and the look on his face makes your heart drop. It’s drawn into something unnervingly blank, cold. No more anger, just…
“Major-“ A tear breaks down your cheek, your voice unbearably quiet. “You’re scaring me.”
The change is instant.
Like light breaking through the clouds, the emptiness leaves his eyes, filling them back with warmth and concern and love.
And you crumble.
Jasper catches you with ease, arms wrapping around you tenderly as he lowers you both on the ground. You curl into him, face buried in his coat as the tears come freely now. You couldn’t stop them even if you wanted, and you’re just so tired, so hurt. There’s nothing left in you, all you can do is cry and cling to him for dear life.
“‘m sorry, I’m sorry,” you hiccup miserably, and Jasper feels his still heart break. “I’m so sorry, Jazz, I didn’t mean to. I just, I just needed food, and it wasn’t that far, and I thought- I thought-”
He hushes you softly, fingers brushing through your hair as he unwinds the swirling mess of your emotions. You can feel it, you’ve always been able to, the subtle shifts and gentle pulls. Never too much, because he knows you wouldn’t want that, but enough so you’re not drowning in them. 
Eventually you’re calm enough to take a full breath, the air stuttering past your lips as you go limp in Jasper’s hold. He draws you tight against him, brushing his hand down to rest at the nape of your neck, just a comforting, constant pressure. 
“You’ve nothin’ to apologize for, darlin,” he murmurs eventually, voice muffled in your hair. “I’m the one who should be. I had no right treatin’ you like that, no matter how worried I was.”
“But-”
“No,” he cuts you off firmly. “It wasn’t right, darlin. It was my fault for bein’ late. He…He’s mighty overprotective of you, and he- I don’t know how to handle myself well when it comes to you. I hope you can forgive me.”
“I do…” You sniffle, the sound soft and sad, but your grip on him tightens. “But I should’ve listened, then I wouldn’t have slipped and gotten hurt.”
Jasper pulls you back suddenly, brows furrowed in surprise, “What? You’re hurt? Where? Do I need to get Carlisle?”
You laugh weakly, his overwhelming concern easing the tightness left in your chest. The tension drips from your muscles, adrenaline slowing. “No, no, I’m fine. I just, I fell…outside and I think I twisted my ankle, is all.”
“Let me see.”
You squeak as he sweeps you up for the second time today. You wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you to the couch. Every touch is slow, careful, as he sets you down and goes to work on getting your boots off. You wince a little when you have to bend your ankle, and he murmurs a quiet apology.
Relief washes over you though when his cool fingers smooth over your heated skin. It’s like the best ice pack ever. You can’t help but sink into the couch with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut.
Jasper purses his lips. It must have been a bad fall since your ankle is angry and swollen. He should have come back sooner, then this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have gone out in the storm, you wouldn’t be hurt, and the Major never would have scared you.
His thoughts flashes back to the look on your face. The fear glimmering in your eyes as he leaned over you. It’s burned into his mind, replaying over and over.
“Major, you’re scaring me.”
After a few seconds too long of silence, you peek an eye open. Jasper kneels, statue still in front of you, eyes set on something distant. A frown catches your lips, and you lean forward, touching his chin gingerly. Those gold eyes dart up to you, coming into focus, flicking between their usual warmth and a familiar steeliness. You shake your head fondly.
“Major,” you call, hand resting against his cheek, “come on, let’s talk.”
He straightens ever so slightly, but instead of drawing back like you’d expect, the stoic man covers your hand with his own, turning to skim his nose to the inside of your wrist. He takes a deep breath, eyes closed. You sit there, just like that for a while, watching him quietly.
When he talks, his voice is a low, calm rumble, his lips brushing against your skin, “I’m sorry for actin’ like such an animal, sugar.”
You purse your lips. A part of you wants to just forgive him. Move on from all of this and forget it. But then you remember the sound of his fist hitting the door, the way it resounded in your chest in place of your heartbeat. You’ve never felt like that, and you don’t want to feel like that again.
“I know you were worried,” you start nervously, wetting your lips. The Major doesn’t say a word, eyes set on you patiently, just waiting for you to continue. You take another deep breath, “I know you asked me to stay home and it upset you that I didn’t. I know you want to keep me safe. But…but it scared me, how angry you got, and that’s, that’s not okay.”
“It’s not,” he hums in agreement, thumb brushing soothingly over your pulse.
You nod and feel a little more confident as you go on, “I, I might do something you don’t like in the future, and if I do, you need to talk to me first. Nicely, please. I love you, like I love Jasper, but we’re equals, even if you’re a lot stronger and bigger than me. ” His lips twitch a little in amusement. You shoot him a scolding look, which makes him fall back into seriousness. “I don’t take orders. I listen because I know you care, but you need to listen to me, too. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He pulls your hand back, pressing a brief kiss to your knuckles. It softens you a bit. A small smile draws across your lips. “You have my solemn word, it won't happen again. And my deepest apologies.”
“You’re forgiven,” you chirp. The last of your worries melt away at the smile he gives you, all lopsided and charming. You shake your head with a laugh, “But you owe me, mister.”
“Well, of course,” he concedes easily, desiring nothing more than to cheer you up now, “What can I do for you, little lamb?”
Shifting awkwardly, careful of your ankle, you jab a finger at the plastic bag you dropped by the door, “Make me some dinner! Cause I’m starving and that’s what got us into this mess.”
The vampire laughs, fully laughs. It’s something you don’t get to hear often, so you absolutely love it. Love him and the way his eyes crinkle with mirth as he pushes himself to his feet, tipping a nonexistent hat to you. Jasper.
“It would be my pleasure, darlin.”
“Thanks, hun.”
---
This was SO hard to write! I suck at doing anger, because it's hard to represent the unhealthy relationship stuff. I tried to turn it around cause I believe ultimately he's a respectful man, and that's how I want to portray him.
So I hope you guys like this! Sorry if the pacing's weird or anything, I just wanted to get it done!
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ma1dita · 3 months
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lovers, or partners in crime
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 2.1k
summary: (post-tlt) directly after ‘if you need to be mean (be mean to me)’, The one where Annabeth and Percy think you're guilty too. You realize his betrayal a little too late, and he's left you looking like an accomplice. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
a/n: eye twitches guys im gonna crank out happy asks after this bc this hurt to the point of me delaying it a few days. drink water and take care luke nation
(posted 2/2/24 & betad by ellie and lari ty ladies mwah @lixzey @mrsaluado )
Exhaustion creeps up on you slowly, then all at once.
It’s been a long week at Camp Half Blood—with trying to stop a war from starting between the cabins and praying to the gods that the trio can stop everyone’s godrents from destroying the balance of the world, you could say you were kept busy making sure the place doesn’t go up in flames. 
Taking orders from Chiron and your dad has been your daily routine from sunrise to sundown, and you were glad to have Luke’s arms to fall into at the end of the night. But you woke up alone this morning, and a heavy feeling in your chest that’s been plaguing you for a while now feels more prominent as you drag your boots across camp for another long day.
Exhaustion blinds us and dulls the senses, but so does love. Sometimes it was hard to tell which was taking effect.
How long were you willing to ignore the signs in front of you?
Maybe it was just another bad day. Your mind felt like it was playing tricks on you, still in a haze from Luke keeping you up the night before, the feeling of his touch still lingering in your pores—evidence of eyebags and lovebites carefully hidden under concealer. You find yourself almost walking in a dream state, before Katie calls out to you, tapping you on the shoulder.
“Did you hear? Annabeth’s back. It’s all gonna be over soon,” she exclaims, and the both of you sigh in relief. You’d do anything to get this over with and take a long break. The idea of a long weekend with Luke somewhere, anywhere but here sounds like Elysium in comparison to what you’ve put yourselves through recently.
“You see Luke anywhere, Katie?”
She hums, her hand reaching out to fix some of the trampled foliage along the path, before she looks up at you, shaking her head.
“Not this morning, no. Maybe he’s with Annabeth?”
You nod thoughtfully, stretching your arms back to soothe the tension in your back. You’ll find him sooner or later, now that this is all over.
You always do.
—-
“Clarisse stole the master bolt.” 
Your fingers wound themselves tighter around Luke’s at Percy’s declaration, but you can’t help but watch your boyfriend’s face closely as the rest of the conversation passes in the background. It’s been a weird day, to say the least—helping to set up for Percy’s celebration, and Luke being tightlipped and distant the whole while. You don’t think he’s actually said a single word to you since last night until he dragged you into his cabin to see Annie and Percy.
“Everyone was ready to join the war here. To start fighting each other. An accusation against Clarisse…” you reason awkwardly, more of a question than a statement. Standing here with your friends, you feel like the odd one out. How could you miss out on Clarisse being the lightning thief? But Luke looks at the two kids in front of you as determined as the devil himself.
He knew. 
He spares you a sidelong glance, a smile quirking up on the scarred side of his face.
When did Luke start making plans without you? 
Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, tranquility comes off of you in waves; you barely notice that Luke drops your hand until you hear him speak again. 
“You’ve stopped the war. You’ve saved the world. Now, it’s safe to tell Chiron and finish cleaning up the mess. I told him we needed to meet him away from the celebration so we can talk without any of Clarisse’s supporters noticing.” Luke crosses his arms, trying to avoid the reach of your powers and your scorching stare while his gaze is sharp on Percy, and suddenly, the heavy feeling in your chest has a name, revealing itself as doubt. 
How could you be so stupid? 
Eyes don’t lie, even if Luke does, and you finally see through him, so much that you fear you’ve found his other side. 
Annabeth grabs your hand, your head whipping to look at her as she speaks, “We’ll keep an eye on Clarisse while you’re gone. Make sure she isn’t going anywhere.” You feel your body shake with paranoia as you start to question everything until the daughter of Athena pulls you back to the present. Taking quick steps out of cabin 11, you take a glance back at Luke, seeing him look glumly at you from the doorway, and it reminds you of a simpler time five years ago, with him standing in the same spot he introduced himself to you on his first day at camp. This time, you don’t walk away.
“I’ll find you later, I…I just need to talk to Luke real quick,” you say biting your lip hesitantly. Annabeth’s gaze is cold as steel as she nods, doubt now running through her as well as she watches you walk back to your boyfriend. You catch him by the arm as he tries to glide past you.
“Hey, are you okay?” You’re searching for an answer Luke will never give you, not out loud—as he dodges your glances, keeping a distance between you two. 
“Come on, I’ve gotta go,” he gruffs, anxiety running off of him in waves as his hands fidget at his sides. The sun is setting, and he needs to finish what he was told to do.
“We still have a bit of ti—” He interrupts you swiftly,“Not enough.”
“I know you’re always in charge around here, but not everything can go the way we want, you know?”
Your lips turn into a frown at his words, and you wonder who it is you’re talking to. Surely, not the boy whose arms you fell asleep in last night. You used to be able to figure him out so easily, but now… he’s acting like you’re an enemy. The banter he deals doesn’t usually make you feel like you’re at the short end of a stick, and though he’s right in front of you, it feels like his mind is already miles away. You’re desperate to hold onto whatever you can though, not wanting to let go of whatever’s plaguing him.
“Angelface. Look at me. Percy’s a hero, everything else will fix itself, why are you so—”
Luke sighs, blinking slowly, and you’re surprised when he pulls your hands to his chest, placing them under his camp beads, so you stop speaking. 
You never know when the last time is until it happens. You didn’t think it’d feel like this.
“I need to do this.” 
He’s not talking about turning in Clarisse anymore, and your body reacts before your mind does, surging forward to hug him. Your fingers run up the expanse of his back, the smell of citrus and musk being familiar but the discomfort in his embrace is not. From here, you can’t see his eyes, but his heart rate accelerates as he wounds his hands in your hair, pulling you closer until the space between you is nonexistent.
“Please,” he mumbles. 
Is it a request? 
The shock runs through your veins as you try to think of what to say next—Luke’s never been one to beg.
“I’d do anything to protect our home, Luke, you don’t have to convince me when it’s the right thing to do.”
Your name falls from his lips, almost like he disagrees with what you said, and then you realize he’s begging you.
He’s asking for your permission. He’s asking you to let him go.
“You’re my home, trouble. You know that right? You’re the only thing that matters to me.”
You try to nod, try to pull away to look at him but he presses you harder into his embrace, like he knows he won’t have the chance again. It hurts, though not in the way you expect.
“L-Luke, you’re hurting me.” Your breath quickens as you try to unravel yourself from him, but you’re unsure where he ends and you begin.
“Just a little bit longer.” 
Your nose buries itself into his neck, and you realize he’s trembling, but you can’t figure out who’s scared, him or you? Voices are echoing in your head and it’s too loud; you clench your fists into his orange camp shirt. Why do you always need to see the proof to believe it’s real? Why do you have to wait until the damage is done?
“I have to do this, trouble. Everything will change and there’s no other way— either we win or we die. Failure isn’t an option for me. Not again.”
“I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one,” you mutter, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face the truth for a while more, “but I still love you, despite it.” 
Despite this.
A watery chuckle escapes you, and his hands are trembling as he pushes a strand of your hair back. He holds onto you more softly now, and whether you know it or not, it’s to make up for all the time he’ll have to go without holding you after this. Percy calls out to him in the distance and once Luke frees you from his arms, you wonder why it feels like you’re unraveling at the seams, slowly parting from him. The tether you have on each other loosens, and it’s hard to tell who is being freed, and who is letting go. Luke walks away wordlessly, curls bouncing in the brisk air without a second glance until you call out to him.
“I’ll find you!”
A threat disguised as a promise, you stand there in the middle of the path feeling exposed as the wretched little girl at your core, desperate to be loved, desperate to be enough. 
But it’s not enough for him to stay, now is it?
—-
The truth is, Luke broke your heart before you even lost him, by hitting you where it hurts— he hit home. Camp Half-Blood has always been the one place you’ve known as home, and even if you claim to hate it—you’d die protecting it if that’s what was needed of you. You stay vigilant next to Annabeth, who looks up at your unusually quiet demeanor, and you feel like you have to confess to a crime that you didn’t commit.
“Luke’s leaving camp.”
She nods stiffly without answering you, wondering if you know about what else he’s done, too. Unlike you though, she’d rather find out before the damage is done.
The sun had set an hour ago, and fireworks were going off in the distance, everyone celebrating a hero’s return. You noticed Clarisse still sitting around the campfire with her siblings, Chiron still present and watching the festivities, and what had to be your last straw was noticing Annabeth had disappeared from your side. So you do what you do best, chase after Luke, and hope that you’re not too late.
Your breath heaves as you run through the dark forest without a single plan in mind and hoping, just hoping that no one’s hurt. You run faster towards the sound of swords clanging against each other, two figures illuminated by the fireworks in the distance.
What you didn’t expect to see was Luke’s sword pointed at an injured son of Poseidon sprawled out in the dirt.
“Percy!” your voice yells out shakily, your instincts kicking in as the truth is laid out in front of you, something darker and much worse than anything you could’ve imagined. Blue light illuminates the scarred side of your boyfriend’s face as he turns to look at you with shimmering eyes, and you see Annabeth with her sword raised at…the both of you.
Is this what love is…looking at a person who’s hurt you and still hoping they’re alright? You’re exhausted, wondering how long he’s been lying to your face—while he holds you, kisses you, and takes your pain away… and it all amounted to feeling guilty for letting his deception slip through your fingers and hurting the people you love. 
Luke’s scar you used to compare to a bolt of lightning now looks like a tear cascading from regret. And perhaps he does regret this, losing Annabeth and losing you, but he never turns back on his word once he’s made a decision. 
This one was just made without you. 
There’s a moment where everything goes silent despite the booming in the sky and you both take one last good look at each other, and Percy and Annabeth are unsure if you two look like forlorn lovers, or partners in crime.
“Castellan…”
His face hardens again at the wavering sound of your voice, almost unrecognizable in the dim light, and you know now that this is it. You’ve always been convinced that a love like the one you and Luke share is tailor-made and stitched together by the Fates. But the strings are cut, and like Atropos, he’s the one holding the scissors.
The last thing you see are his dark eyes and how he turns to run away, headfirst into a future without you. 
For a second you could’ve sworn they flashed gold.
“I wanted to hurt you
 but the victory is that I could not stomach it.” 
 -Richard Siken
next part: love like a blister: the five stages of loving losing luke
luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings
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avatar-anna · 2 months
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Pale Green Stripes
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The Professor Masterlist
this takes place during The Professor Series!
"Did you know you're the only person who never tries to interrupt me?"
"What do you mean?"
Harry and Y/n lay on the carpeted floor of her townhouse. Their shoulders touched, but that was about it. Even so, Harry could feel that tiny bit of contact throughout his entire body. The professor probably had a word for that, a scientific term to explain why just the slightest graze—not even skin against skin—sent him into a tailspin that made him have to focus extra hard on what she said.
Y/n's hands knotted together on her lap, a thing she did when she held herself back. It was as if she had to physically restrain herself some way to keep her from speaking out of turn. Harry personally never thought she did, from their first meeting at the bookstore, he'd been fascinated by her, by the things she said.
"I don't mean to...impart information on people the way that I do. It just happens sometimes," she said, her eyes gazing up at the ceiling.
Harry knew he probably should've too, but he couldn't help but look at the professor instead. Her hair fanned out around her shoulders, she wore a string of pearls around her neck and earrings made to look like Salvador Dalí's melting clocks in her ears. Her jewelry was always a mix of something professional and a little quirky, Harry came to realize, as if even at work as a professor at Cambridge University she couldn't help but have a little fun.
Her wardrobe consisted of patterned socks and cherry red Adidas shoes and fun knitted sweaters and vests. Today she merely wore a cozy navy blue sweater and a flowy white skirt, her red shoes were on a rack by the door, but she still wore her ruffled socks with embroidered roses on them.
"I don't mind it at all," he replied honestly.
Y/n blinked a couple times, then said, "I know. I was surprised at first because everyone usually cuts me off. Or walks away."
Harry frowned. He couldn't help but notice how clinically the professor spoke about the hurtful things that had been done to her. By her family, so-called colleagues, the few friends she had at work. He couldn't fathom anyone finding Y/n anything less than wonderful. She was brilliant, yes, but funny, and charismatic, and had a knack for storytelling. Harry never wanted her to stop talking. Ever.
"I like listening to you," he told her, shrugging as best he could given his current prone position.
"That's probably because you never finished school and are trying to make up for lost time."
From anyone else, that would've been a joke, a jab, but Y/n took education seriously, had mentioned it numerous times since they met.
Still, Harry chuckled. "Maybe I just like the sound of your voice. Maybe I just like hearing what you have to say. Maybe I find your lectures highly arousing."
"Edward!"
Even as he laughed with her, Harry couldn't help but feel guilty. He knew he should tell her, he should've told her months ago. His middle name fired out of his mouth before he could think the first time Y/n asked him for his name. A desire for anonymity, that was all it was. He didn't think he'd see her again outside the one time, so he thought it would be harmless. Then they did keep meeting, and he didn't have the guts to tell her, and now he was too deep in the lie to find a way out.
"What?"
Harry had never been shy about his attraction to the professor, even if he'd only seen half of her face due to the mask she wore. There was so much to appreciate about her, so much to admire, and he let his own imagination do the rest. He could've, of course, looked her up online. Y/n had mentioned something about posting educational videos online, but he thought it was only fair that if she didn't know what his entire face looked like that he didn't either.
"Why do you say stuff like that?" she asked, and even without the mask, Harry could tell she was blushing.
"Like what?"
"About me. About—about your attraction to me and how you find me—or think I'm a—"
"Yes?" Harry encouraged. He could tell there was a word or phrase she had in mind but was too embarrassed to use.
"In the 16th Century, the word bellibone was first used. It's derived from French etymology using the words belle and bonne to describe a woman who excels in both beauty and goodness. There's really only one known use in the late 1500s. A poet named Edmund Spenser, though he was from Ireland. It's fascinating how a word can be used once then ceases to exist, don't you think?"
Harry blinked, not totally prepared for the tangent, though perhaps he should've been. Grinning beneath his mask, he said, "I think it describes you perfectly."
"Edward," Y/n said, now her neck was flushed too.
"Does it make you uncomfortable?" he asked. "The compliments? The—" He might as well call it what it was—"flirting?"
"N—No."
"Because I'll stop if it does," he promised. "I just think you should know how devastating you are."
One of the professor's eyebrows quirked up in confusion. "That was an interesting choice in adjective."
But it was the perfect one. Harry knew he couldn't be with Y/n the way he wanted when she didn't know the truth about who he was, and he couldn't risk losing her if he finally told her. Perhaps it was unfair to play at something he knew he couldn't have, but part of him wanted Y/n to know that she was desirable, that she was more than what her intellect offered. Sure, Harry found her intelligence sexy as all get out, but she was also beautiful, and funny, and kind, and he didn't think anyone had ever complimented more than just her brain.
He would spend an entire day complimenting her if he had the time, or if she let him.
But while Y/n was confident in many things, romantic feelings weren't one of them. Despite the obstacles he put in his own way, Harry didn't think the professor was quite ready to hear how much he really liked her.
"Tell me something."
"Like what?" Y/n asked.
"Anything," Harry said, facing her and propping his head in his hand. "A book you read, something that fascinates you, your least favorite student, anything."
She narrowed her eyes at him as she positioned her body to face his. "I don't have a least favorite student."
"I don't believe you," he replied, narrowing his eyes back playfully.
Y/n scanned his face, then up and down his body. It was casual, though Harry noticed that her gaze lingered in places—his arms, his shoulders, his face. He wore a mask, but he tried to suppress his grin anyway. Then, before he could tease her more, her eyes lit up.
"Did you know the stripe pattern originated in the Middle Ages?"
He never knew, but she always prefaced her information the same way. "Did it?"
Nodding to the green striped shirt Harry wore, she said, "Stripes were used to identify social outcasts. Prostitutes, criminals, hangmen, clowns and jugglers; they all had to wear stripes so they were easily recognizable in regular society."
"Clowns?"
"Outcasts and people who were...not society's favorites, like court jesters and such. European governments even legalized the requirement of certain citizens to wear stripes. Though now, of course, stripes are popular due to Coco Chanel wearing a striped shirt similar to French sailor uniforms, which, you know, sailors were also usually the lowest rank of the French navy. Then stripes began appearing in women's activewear in the 1920s, Al Capone began wearing pinstriped suits, and the rest is history. A long, brutal history, obviously, seeing as prisoners were later forced to wear striped uniforms, and prisoners in concentration camps during World War Two, but—there you have it. A brief, slightly detailed history of the stripe."
Harry looked down at his long sleeved shirt, the thin pale green and white striped that lined his arms and torso. "Not sure if I'll be able to wear stripes again, but... that's really fascinating."
"Thought you might like that," Y/n said with a shrug.
Harry tilted his head questioningly. "Why do you say that?"
"You like clothes."
He didn't question how she knew that. With her background, Y/n seemed to know things about him that she just happened to observe. It was a little disconcerting at first, but he came to appreciate that he didn't have to pretend around her. No airs, no personas, none of the things he'd become so accustomed to in recent years. The professor might not have known about Harry's career, but she knew him in ways no one else did.
"Well," he said, playfully sighing at his shirt. "Guess I'm never wearing stripes again."
Y/n's eyes squinted and her mask scrunched a little, the way they always did when she smiled. With an unmistakable glint in her eye, the adorable one she always got when Harry indulged in her. "Wait until you hear about polka dots!"
Harry sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement making him chuckle a little. "Tell me more, love."
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lecl3rcw · 10 months
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MAGIC IN YOUR VEINS
pairings: Charles Leclerc x sister!reader
summary: Charles comforts his favorite sibling.
warnings: badly translated French, sibling fights, Arthur being a lil mean, just a little tho.
author’s note: this is a lil disappointing, also Thankyou guys so much for 50 followers💗
song recs: none:(
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She didn’t know how a small comment of hers escalated to a full blown argument between her and Arthur.
“Arthur you know I didn’t mean it like that!” She tries to defend herself, “Oh cut the bullshit Y/N, you know how I feel when anyone compares me to Charles, you off all people should know” he yells really upset with his sister’s comment.
“I was just joking! I didn’t Intentionally compare you to him” she sighs out, putting her hand on her face, a little distressed. “No you always have to bring this up, and it’s funny because you’re probably the biggest failure out of all 4 of us, Enzo is starting his own business, Charles is a F1 driver, I’m an F2 driver, meanwhile you can’t even pass a grade 11 exam” he says, finally finishing his rant getting the anger and frustration of his stressful week out.
Her mouth was wide open as tears were visible in his eyes, sure her and Arthur exchanged insults but never had they fought this seriously. “Why are you crying? Cant handle it when it’s directed at you?” He says, “I’m sorry Arthur” she whispered before running to her room and locking the door.
She felt guilty, she wasn’t upset at him because he gave her a taste of her own medicine but it did sting, hearing someone she genuinely looked up to call her a failure was a statement she could never shake off. Although it hurt, it also made her realize that he was right. Once Arthur was cooled down, he did apologize to the girl and she did as well, but despite saying sorry, his words rang in her head. She vowed to herself that she was going to pass this test without anyone’s help no matter what.
“Do you guys know what’s been up with your sister?” Pascale asks placing food on the table, “What do you mean Maman?” Charles asks looking up from his phone, his next race was 3 weeks away so he was happy to spend time with his family, “I don’t know, she seems really distant” their mutters, “I heard she has a big test tomorrow , maybe she’s stressed out?” Lorenzo said, “yeah perhaps, but I would appreciate if you guys could talk to her and make her feel better” she says, the two sibling nodded their heads.
Charles was walking up to his bedroom but he noticed soft music coming from his sister’s room, curiously, he walked in only to find his sister’s head resting on the desk, the dim light of the lamp was the only thing lighting her room up, her papers scattered across her desk. He softly smiled at her, he placed a sweet kiss on her head before turning the light off and letting his sister sleep.
The next morning the girl jerked up in panic, she wasn’t supposed to be sleeping, she was supposed to be preparing for her test. “I’m so fucked” she says her hands on her head. She checks the time and she quickly gets ready to go to school.
“Hey Chérie” Pascale says, “Goodmorning maman” she says rubbing her eyes tiredly, “you alright?” Pascale asks the girl in concern, “I’m good ma, I was supposed to study but I fell asleep” she says, “Oh you’ll do great my love” she says as she goes to give her daughter a tight hug, being in her mother’s arms bright the younger girl a lot of comfort, “I love you Maman, I should be leaving” she says breaking the hug, she gave her a smile before heading out the door.
The rest of the day went by in a blur, after giving her test she actually felt confident, the smile that the past few weeks stole from her made its way back on her face, now all she had to do was wait till 5:00 pm for her results. Charles texted her saying that he could pick her up to which she happily responded.
“Hi Chérie! How was your day” Charles asks, “it was alright” she responds, the siblings talked about irrelevant things the rest of the way, jamming to music, Charles even bought Y/N some food as the two shared the meal. She felt really happy that Charles wanted to spend time with her as he was such a busy man. Unfortunately for her tho, her interactions with Arthur had died down since he was never home, either with his friends or with Carla, which made her really sad.
It was 5:03 when the siblings made it home, “I’m gonna go check my score Charles, I’ll be right back!” She says, “wait! Bring your laptop here, we will check it together” Charles says wanting to be as supportive as ever to which she was more than thankful for.
“Ok…so what did you get” He asks her, the minute she looks her heart drops to her stomach, she felt nauseous, the exhaustion of so many weeks of not sleeping and eating properly catching up to her, she was upset beyond repair, and Arthur’s voice calling her a failure started echoing In her mind.
“I’m a failure” she says mindlessly, before burrying her face in her hands. “What? No you’re not” He says grabbing the laptop. “Oh my god. I’m a screwup” she says as sobs start racking her body, Charles immediately wraps his arms around the girl tightly, her face still in her hands. “I’m so dumb, I studied for nothing” she says as places her head against his shoulder.
“Y/N you’re not a failure, who told you that” Charles says caressing her hair, “It dosent matter Charles, the test results tell me everything I need to know” she says tears still running down her face, “why can’t I be more like you, or Arthur, or Enzo” she wails out, “You’re not a failure Y/N, everyone has ups and downs, you can’t base your worth on test scores, or people’s opinions” he says tightening his hold on her, she stayed quiet wanting him to continue. “You can’t be perfect all the time Chérie, and whoever told you that you’re a failure is probably a failure themselves” Charles says getting a little mad that someone (Arthur) called his sister a failure.
“But-” “no buts, You tried Y/N and that’s what matters, you didn’t give up, everyone has bad days, but you can’t let a test score hold this much power over you” he finishes, she sniffles wiping her nose, “you’re right, I’m sorry, maybe this was a bit of an overreaction” she says, feeling a bit embarrassed, “No never apologize for showing emotions, you were disappointed and that’s ok, use this disappointment as motivation, you’re going to kick that next test’s ass” he says shaking her shoulders as she lets out a laugh. “ I love you Charlie” she mumbled giving him a final hug that he reciprocated, “I love you more” he says. “Now tell me, who said you were a failure? I’ll give them a piece of my mind, I’ll get Arthur on them too” he says confidently,
“………”
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yanderestarangel · 6 months
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♡ 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐮𝐩 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐤𝐮𝐚𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠 ♡
a/n: version with bi han here ♡
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TW: angst, insecurity, smut, v!sex, oral (f!re), husband kuai liang, afab anatomy, pet names, praise, rough sex, aggressive sex, use of ropes in sex, creampie, overstimulation, dirty talk, husband x husband, ftm reader.
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Things were always peaceful between the two of you, he was a caring and faithful husband, you had no reason to doubt him or anything similar to that.
However, after Bi Han's betrayal with the Lin Kuei, Kuai Liang needed the help of third parties to form another clan, and this clan was the 'shiray ryu' in honor of the woman who helped him, Harumi - and also the name of the whole the problem in marriage you - you were insecure and he lost his patience, tired of saying that they had nothing, and they really didn't, he was married to you. It was at a dinner that he arrived later with Harumi that you lost your temper, having a fight with Kuai Liang, his stress and concern for the clan made him simply say cruel things to you without him even realizing it.
He only noticed when you slapped him in the face and left the house crying, he hated himself at that moment. You went out into the forest, crying and with sore feet, but you soon felt the cryromancer's ropes around your body, pinning you to the ground. "-Fuck (Y/N) never run like that again, damn, did you get hurt?" He speaks worriedly and a little rudely, still under the influence of anger, but genuinely worried, while carrying you on his shoulders easily - you even tried to try to free yourself from the ropes, but you couldn't - Kuai soon arrived at your house, throwing you on top out of bed and locking all the doors so you don't run away again.
While you were trapped by his ropes, Kuai Liang stood in front of you with a pained expression on his face. He looked tired and exhausted, he took a deep breath and tried to calm down."-We've been through so many things together, we've faced countless enemies and situations that should have separated us, but we survived them all. Why do we let something like Harumi come between us now? Out of jealousy?" He asked, looking at you intently. You didn't respond immediately, just looking at him,tears in your eyes. Kuai Liang continued, trying to explain his feelings.
"-I'm sorry, I don't want to hurt you anymore. Please understand that Harumi means nothing to me, she never did anything wrong, she only helped us when Shiray Ryu was in childhood, our feelings for her have always remained platonic. She's like a sister to me, I would never betray her trust or our marriage." You didn't want to listen, trying to insult him and telling him to take those ropes off you, however, seeing you vulnerable, angry and exposed made him feel guilty, but also excited. He couldn't help it.
"-No, I'm not letting you go yet. Not until we talk about this." He said firmly as he ran his fingers through your hair, you could see the conflict in his eyes, torn between his duty as a ninja and his love for you, he was a man full of flaws, but he would never betray you. Without warning, Kuai Liang bent down and gently kissed your forehead, trying to calm you down. "-I promise, tonight we will make up for everything that happened, just trust me." He whispered softly in your ear, as he used the sharp kunai to tear the fabric of your clothes, exposing your body completely to him.
His lips slowly moved from your forehead to your cheek and then to your neck, sending shivers down your spine. As he continued kissing you, his hand began to move down, passing over your breast and then down towards your pussy. You moaned softly at his touch, still upset about recent events. Kuai Liang smiled slightly at your reaction before continuing his seduction. He ran his fingers through your slit, teasing your clit and making you moan louder. "-You look so fucking gorgeous now, you know that?"
He couldn't resist the temptation any longer.
With one swift motion, he pulled the strings on your body, opening your thighs and burying himself in your pussy, his tongue flicking out to lap up your juices. "-I want you..." he growled, "-I need you." His tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit, causing waves of pleasure to ripple through your body, the ropes hurting you slightly, leaving large linear red marks. "-My husband is a little slut don't you?" With a satisfied grin, Kuai Liang slid two fingers inside you, finger-fucking you roughly while continuing to suck on your clit. You moaned loudly, arching your back and thrusting against his hand. Kuai Liang added another finger, stretching you wide and pushing your little hole.
You tried to maintain your posture, saying that you hated him, even if it was a lie - and you both knew it - the ninja soon removed his fingers from you and pulled down his pants, exposing his fat, pulsing cock, leaking a thin layer of pre-semen from the tip. reddish, while he positioned himself between your thighs, rubbing the tip of his dick on your clit. "-You don't hate me baby. You just feel insecure because of Harumi. But I swear to you, she means nothing to me. All I want is you." He whispered hoarsely into your ear. Your body shook with pleasure as he continued to rub his dick against your clit, your moans filling the room. "-You know you love me..." He slid the pulsate shaft as he led you in front of the large mirror in your room, while using his right arm to hold you around your waist and the other around your neck. He pulled your hair hard, forcing you to look in the mirror "-Look at you baby... See the way my cock slides in and out of your tight pussy. That's what I see when I look at you, baby. Nothing but pure desire and love." Your body responded to his words, his dick sliding against your sensitive walls, causing you to moan louder and clutch at the ropes binding you.
"-You're a beautiful man, wrapped up in the arms of your loving husband. And I want to remind you of that every chance I get... You're my little whore, aren't you? My precious, perfect husband. And look that beautiful pussy, so wet and ready for me." His words were like poison to your ears, but they also had a strange effect on you. As he continued to fuck you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of validation. Your insecurity melted away, replaced by a newfound confidence.
You no longer saw Harumi as a threat; instead, you saw her as just another person in Kuai Liang's life. You knew that he belonged to you, and nobody else. He didn't let you look away from the reflection-scorpion wanted to show you how beautiful you were, how desirable you were to him - he praised you so much, every part of him, your favorite nicknames - "darling" "baby" "sweetheart" "my pretty little thing" "my pretty slut" - with every word he growled, his dick came in and out of you, as you trembled in the heat of his member. With one final thrust, Kuai Liang let out a primal roar as he came inside you, filling you with his hot cum. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. "-That's right, take my cum, you little whore." He growled, looking into your eyes in the mirror. As he collapsed onto you, spent and satisfied, he kissed you softly, his lips brushing against yours in a tender gesture of devotion.
"-Never doubt yourself again, I love you more than anything, I swear, on my ninja honor, and on my soul."
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©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023
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lovelytsunoda · 4 months
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i can't get no satisfaction // mick schumacher
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summary: camping out in the library after hours, and too stressed to retain information, the student librarian has an idea about how take all of that stress away. and it doesn’t involve reference books.
pairing: college librarian!mick x student reader
warnings: sex in a library, semi-public sex, this is so fucking filthy, mick is a sweetheart but he has a dirty fucking mouth. mentions of masturbation and sex toys. why does this man bring out the feral in me? the terms ‘librarian’ and ‘sir’ used in a sexual context (but in a playful way…for the most part)
authors note: now tell me why I can add a song here but tumblr won’t let me add ‘shallow’ as a song link to my angsty top gun fic and I had to publish it without?
there was a reason she always picked that table. a reason she’d started coming to the library in tight tops and cutoff shorts.
it gave her the prime viewing across the old library, beyond the green tiffany lamps, at the perfectly coiffed head of of blonde hair that rested behind the check in desk.
mick fucking schumacher. he was the reason most girls came to the library, if she was to be honest.
however, there was no time for that today, astronomy textbooks strewn across her table as she poured over star charts. she didn’t realize how late it had gotten, her test review notes only half filled out and an exam creeping up on her.
her ballpoint pen trailed across the computer paper as she recorded the names of the main theories behind how the moon formed, mumbling to herself in an attempt to remember the facts better. she had one Bluetooth earbud in, playing jazz music softly to prevent her mind from wandering.
it was all hands on deck if she wanted a chance in hell of passing her elective course.
two hands clapped down on her shoulders. she started, yelping as her pen trailed a thick black line across her page before clattering to the floor. heart racing, she yanked her headphone out, head whirling to see who had interrupted her.
“oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.”
mick. he stood behind her, clad in tight black slacks and and untucked dress shirt, the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to just before his elbows.
and, oh god, were her nipples perking up underneath her halter top?
“no, no, I should have paid more attention.” her voice was shaking, cracking slightly. “did you need something?”
“we closed like, fifteen minutes ago.” mick said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but I’m not getting paid overtime and I kind of wanted to go home.”
she sighed, massaging her forehead wrinkles with her fingertips. “yeah, okay. sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”
her stomach sank to the floor. she felt guilty for keeping him, and a sense of crushing dread when she realized how little information she really retained.
and under the student librarians gaze, his stunning ocean eyes boring holes into her skull?
she’d be damned to admit it out loud, but she felt horny as hell. she was so stressed with exams, and so wired from trying to study that masturbation was the only way she could get herself to go to sleep: tire out the body, and the mind will follow.
but her fingers didn’t cut it any more, nor did the tiny vibrator her roommate made her buy on a whiteclaw-fuelled trip to the local spencer’s.
“okay, just give me a second and I can help you put all of these away. I feel bad for keeping you now.”
mick helped her gather her things and tidy the table, offering her a metal shelving cart to load full of all the textbooks she didn’t need. they moved in an awkward silence as the blond reshelved the books and she pushed the cart.
“so, astronomy?” mick clicked his tongue, shelving a book on star charts.
“yeah, it’s a shitty fucking elective, that’s what it is. it’s causing me more stress than my actual subject major.” she snorted, sliding a few other books into the shelf. “I’m pre-law, but I’m not even sure if law school is what I want any more. right now, I just want to shut down, if I’m being honest.”
she stepped back from the shelf, moving to go around the cart when mick spoke up.
“so is that why you barely looked in my direction today?”
she stopped cold, her foot thudding against the side of the heavy metal cart. she bit back a curse, stumbling as mick caught her, pressing her body up against the shelving cart.
“I know you have a crush on me. I think it’s cute. you’re cute.” his voice was husky, and there was barely any space between them. her heart was beating faster, heat rising in her cheeks. “there’s a reason I always work at that desk too. seeing you makes my day.”
he was so close to her that she could have kissed him if he wanted to. all she would have had to do was press up on her toes to match his height, and gently touch her lips to his.
“don’t hide from me, pretty girl.” mick whispered. “I know how pent up you are, I can see it in the way your body responded as I ran my hands over your back. I want to help you. let me help.”
she swallowed, thoughts racing as she gripped his arms, looking up into his cobalt eyes.
she needed this.
needed him.
“yes.”
when mick kissed her, it felt like all the air was leaving her lungs. he was intoxicating, the heady scent of his cologne overwhelming her senses. she moaned into the kiss, aching and longing for human contact.
“my sweet girl.” he mumbled, trialing kisses up her jaw and over behind her ear, hands coming up to knead her sensitive breasts as she leaned back against the shelving cart. “when was the last time someone treated you right?”
“s-six months.” she stuttered, panting heavily.
it was pathetic, mick had barely even done anything and she was seconds away from whining for him.
he clicked his tongue, gripping her waist and pushing her back further against the cart. a few reference books fell to the floor, but neither student noticed. his breath was warm against her ear, the tip of his nose brushing her cartilage and making her shiver.
“that’s just won’t do. whenever you came in here, I bet you were thinking about sitting under my desk and using your cute little mouth the keep my cock warm.”
noticing how her body tensed up, the boy changed his tune. “or maybe you’re not into that. maybe you just wanted me to whisk you away to the rare book room and press you up against the bookshelf, have my way with you. our dirty little secret”
ah, yes. that was the reaction he was looking for, her thighs clenching at the thought as he slotted his knee on between her legs.
“that’s my girl.” mick cooed as she grinded against his thigh. “you just need my cock to fill you up, don’t you? those fingers of yours just aren’t the same, are they?”
she opened her mouth to respond, forehead resting against his, when she leaned back too far, the cart tumbling out from behind her.
mick caught her by the waist, smoothly spinning around and returning her to her feet, ignoring the toppled cart. nose to nose, the absurdity of the situation dawned on her.
and she laughed.
and he laughed with her.
that was what she needed from a man. someone who could laugh with her, even during their most intimate of moments, someone who let all the best parts of his non-bedroom personality shine through while also knowing exactly what she needed him to say to get her off.
a gentleman.
and that’s what mick schumacher was.
he carried her bridal style back to the long mahogany table, placing her down gently and sweetly before giving her a sweet kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips.
“so, pretty girl, the ball is in your court now.” mick began, taking her warm hands in his cold ones. “whatever you need me to do, I’ll do.”
“I mean, I’ve heard the rare book room is super sexy. the smell of old books is like an aphrodisiac for me.” she said in a sing-song voice, thinking about his teasing from earlier. “then again, so are the vaulted ceilings in here.”
“I bet I could make you come so hard for me that you can see those stars on the ceiling fresco with your eyes closed.”
“wanna bet, pretty boy?” she was confident in her decision, but there was still nervousness behind her eyes.
she’d felt the way his dick pressed up against the seams of the zipper on his slacks. taking it was going to hurt.
he kissed her nose softly, fingers reassuringly rubbing circles on her skin. “I’ve got you, princess. you just need to relax and let me fuck all of that stress out of your pretty little head.”
she kissed him again, one hand on either side of his neck as she tried to press her body up against his, body flushed with need.
he gently turned her around, guiding her body so that she was bent over the table, the wood cool against her body.
mick playfully smacked her ass over her denim shorts.“such a pretty girl for your librarian, aren’t you?”
instead of the expected response, mick was delighted to get a laugh out of her. her giggles made him high, heat rising on his skin.
“was that supposed to be sexy?” she giggled, one hand reaching behind her to cradle his, thumb passing over his knuckles.
“maybe.” mick chirped. “baby, you’ve gotta let me have my other hand so I can get your shorts off.” she let go of his hand, allowing his smooth fingers to undo the button and gently draw the denim down her legs. “and for the record, I think that librarian is a damn sexy title.”
“but it’s not really a title.” she laughed, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her body, massaging the flesh of her ass before tugging her cotton panties to the side.
he smacked her ass again, cock perking up at the tiny moan she let out. “it can be whatever I damn well want it to be, princess.” his voice was playful, and it made her wet to no end.
she needed this adorable idiot to fuck her.
now.
there was little warning as he slipped two fingers into her, the cold of the rings on his fingers making her squeal as he started to flex his digits.
his fingers were so fucking long. they felt so much better than her own fingers did, that was for sure.
“that’s my pretty girl, taking my fingers like a goddamn champion. you’re fucking dripping, princess.” mick cooed, moaning at the sight of her arousal running down his wrist, the sound his fingers made as he scissored them inside of her. “atta girl, so good for your librarian, aren’t you?”
“yes.” she panted, bucking her hips against his fingers with a cry, reaching back to grab his free hand with the hand that wasn’t holding her steady on the desk. “oh, fuck, sir.”
god, she needed this. and for a nerdy guy, he sure fucking knew how to use his fingers.
she felt his hand come down on her ass again. “what did you call me?” his voice was light, with the hint of a smile behind it. “I want you to say it again, princess.”
“mhm, yes sir, please, I need more.” she exaggerated the moan, a playful smile on her face as she played right into micks hands.
she liked this banter they had going, this carefree way of looking at something most people took so seriously. no, this was an experience that felt uniquely her whereas other guys she had been with just did what they always did, not caring about what she needed to get off.
but with mick, yes, that dominant demeanour was still there, but in a gentle ‘let me take care of you’ way.
and that was sexy as fuck.
she whined as mick withdrew his fingers, tapping her side with two of his fingers. “turn around, pretty girl. I don’t like not being able to see your stunning face.”
while her thighs tingled, her chest bloomed with affection and love at the thought that mick thought she was pretty.
and it was true. the library was dim, the warm lighting from the tiffany lamps framing the flyaways from her hair and the pink in her cheeks. the cupids bow of her lips, and that gorgeous fucking smile.
he was so down bad for her, it made his cock ache.
she perched on the edge of the desk, wincing and attempting to hide her embarassment at the wet patch she was leaving on the old table, the unshaven landscape of her thighs (and between her legs).
goosebumps rose on her arms as she watched mick lick her juices off her fingers, moaning at the taste like it was his favourite thing in the world. sensing the goosebumps, he ran his hands up her arms to warm her up.
“you decide how far we go tonight, love. how many orgasms do you want?”
oh fuck.
mick laughed sweetly, seeing the overwhelmed look on her face. he kissed her forehead tenderly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “how about we start with one and see you feel from there.”
“yeah. I’d like that.” she answered shyly, feeling the cold creep in.
the old library was drafty, yet kept to a very specific temperature. she expected to be overheating from how hot this encounter was, but alas, the air conditioning system just had to go and ruin it
“here.” mick said softly, undoing his shirt to expose the silver chain that rested below his sternum, a pendant with an orthodox saint carved into it.
he undid the shirt slowly, allowing her ample time to rake her prying eyes over every perfectly sculpted part of his body, right down to the tent in his pants.
sliding the shirt fully off, he used both hands to drape the soft fabric over her body. she swooned at the motion, letting him flip the collar up against her neck.
“don’t want you catching a cold now, do we, sweet girl?” he said sheepishly, his face flushed pink and a sheen of sweat on his abs as he cupped her face, leaning in to kiss her softly.
“mick.” she whined. “I need you now. I’m aching for my librarian to make me feel good.”
“I’ve got you, princess. I’ve got you.” he hummed, undoing the button on his slacks. he pushed down his boxers, erect cock springing to life.
“holy fuck.” she hummed.
his dick was impressive. all seven thick inches of it, resting against her thigh when she opened her legs and pulled him closer. she wasn’t even sure if it was possible for a dick to be pretty, but if it was, micks cock was the very definition of the word.
“so wet for me. I’ll slide right on home.” mick said, gripping his cock in one hand and running it all along her slicked up opening. now she knew her goosebumps weren’t from the cold, but from the anticipation of what was to come next.
“please, I need your cock.” she whined.
“whatever my girl wants, she gets. you just relax and let your librarian fuck all those little worries away.”
he slid in slowly, letting her adjust to take him inch by inch. the stretch burned slightly, and she found herself opening her legs wider with every inch. she had a white-knuckled grip on the table, her breaths coming out in a mixture of strangled moans and pants.
when he finally slid fully in, his heavy balls resting against her ass, she opened her eyes and changed a look down at where they connected, a moan leaving her mouth.
“that’s just what you needed, isn’t it love? a fat cock to fill you up and make you feel good.”
it was a question he didn’t expect an answer from as he started to thrust in and out of her, hands gripping her thighs to pull her in.
“oh, god!” she whined throwing her head back, breasts bouncing under her top as mick slammed into her. “feels so good, mick.”
“that’s my girl.” his voice was low and husky, but also soothing. his hands on her body was a grounding presence.
her fingernails scraped down his chest, leaving pink marks in their wake as she moaned, babbling incoherently about how good mick was making her feel.
it was heavenly. he overwhelmed every one of her senses. it was an out of body experience, if she was being honest. something out of her wildest dreams.
mick kissed her again, groaning into her mouth as he pistoned his cock in and out of her. she was practically dripping everywhere, but had no time or energy to worry about the mess she was making.
all she could think about was how good she felt with mick inside of her.
“just breathe, darling. you’re doing so fucking good for me.”
he shifted her position on the desk, maneuvering one of her legs over his shoulder. she yelped in pleasure, nails sinking into his shoulders as she screamed a curse.
“fuck, that feels so good!”
the new angle was dizzying, his length brushing up against her spongy walls with every thrust. her eyes rolled back and her vision went blurry from pleasure as she meweled under his touch.
“that’s it, pretty girl. come for me. come for your librarian.”
“oh, fuck, mick, I-“ her words tapered off into a hearty moan, micks shirt lying in a puddle behind her as she wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her head in his chest as she came with a cry of his name, tears leaking from her eyes. “mick.”
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” mick cooed, kissing her forehead as he slowed his thrusts, gently working her through her orgasm. “there we go, you’re safe here. just breathe with me, can you do that, princess?”
she nodded, out of breath as mick gently eased her achy leg off his shoulder and back down to the table. he slid out of her, and the empty feeling made her whine. he gently shushed her, covering her face in kisses.
“mick, you never finished.” she pouted
“don’t worry about it, princess. this was about you. all that mattered to me was that you got your earth shattering orgasm.”
she rolled her eyes, reaching for his still-hard cock. “let me do something nice for you, dumbass.”
and who was mick to complain when she was doing such a good fucking job stroking his cock? her hands were smooth and soft, and the angelic way that she looked up at him, that sweet smile on her swollen lips while her hands worked him to the edge?
within minutes he was bellowing, spurting thick measures of come over her hands and down her arm, his entire body shaking.
“Jesus Christ.” he muttered. “you’re good at that.”
“when you hate giving blowjobs, you learn how to give a damn good handjob.” she smiled softly, unsure what to do with her sticky hands.
mick scooped her up gently, carrying her away from the desk and down the long hall to the staff bathroom. “come on, love. let’s get you cleaned up.”
after they were somewhat presentable (because, after all, there’s little you can do about the flushed skin and sex hair when you’re still in a public library), they gathered the last of their belongings and started to shut the library down for the day.
“what about the shelving cart?” she asked shyly, gesturing to the cart they had knocked over.
mick laughed. “I don’t work tomorrow, so it’s someone else’s problem.”
she watched with a soft smile as mick turned all the lights in the old building off, before he linked his arm with hers and they began the walk out of the parking lot.
“I hate to sound presumptuous,” mick began “but you’ve been here all day and I haven’t seen you leave to get food or anything. you must be starving. there’s an all night diner about two blocks from here, and I’d like to treat you to dinner.”
she smiled, kissing his cheek. “I’d love that, mick. thank you.”
and they both knew that this was going to be the start of something wonderful.
as soon as exams were over, of course.
the rest of the student body’s female population was not going to be happy when they showed up at the library and found that y/n y/l/n had finally captured their librarian’s heart.
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @twinkodium @thatsdemko @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck
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nobodyfamousposts · 5 months
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Do you think people cling on too much to Adrien's high road advice as a reason to salt on him?
Yes, especially when there are plenty of other reasons to salt him that have previously been ignored. But to that end, it DOES serve as the final straw for people after a SERIES of problems that had previously gone unaddressed.
Much like many aspects of the show, Adrien has displayed problematic behaviors that have been overlooked and waved off in the earlier seasons. This is likely or especially due to the way how in each and every incident, Adrien was narratively shown to be correct. In his stance. In his choices. In his behaviors. He was always right. It doesn't matter if he shouldn't be, because he is.
Now unless you're a hater or anti or salter or whatever negative name people tend to get for not liking a story as it's presented, readers and watchers tend to follow along with the narrative as it presents things and how it presents things. It's a common setup in any story. Protagonist Centered Morality, I feel framed best by Susan in the Discord series:
Susan: ...and then Jack chopped down the beanstalk, adding murder and ecological vandalism to the theft, enticement and trespass charges already mentioned, but he got away with it and lived happily ever after without so much as a guilty twinge about what he had done. Which proves that you can be excused anything if you're a hero, because no one asks inconvenient questions.
Pretty much this. Most people will follow what the narrative says because it's the narrative. If the narrative wants you to focus on Marinette being embarrassed, you're going to focus on how much she's cringe. And if the narrative wants you to view Adrien as a perfect sunshine boy who never does anything wrong, anything he does is going to be framed through that lens and it's difficult to break from that view and call out the times when he is wrong. Not unless he does something particularly severe.
It should be noted that outside of Chameleon, Adrien had, among other things: lied to his partner, caused someone to get akumatized and had his partner take the blame, was messing around during life-threatening and city-threatening situations, did nothing as Chloe tormented people right in front of him, DEFENDED Chloe after she tormented people right in front of him, bailed on an event with friends to set up a date with someone who said she had other plans and then got mad at HER for it, tried to flirt or confess in the middle of an active crisis which took necessary attention away from said crisis, caused himself AND his partner to get hit by akuma powers and needlessly be taken out of commission.
And yet people could mostly overlook these instances. They weren't his fault. Chloe is his friend. Marinette is worse. He's just a kid. He has a tragic backstory. So on and so forth. Easy to overlook. Easy to ignore in favor of the Sunshine Boy setup people were given and want to believe in.
But there were three major instances that really grabbed people's attention and stayed:
His attitude in Frozer. It probably wouldn't have been so bad except this rejection already happened in Glaciator, where he was supposed to have learned a lesson and accepted just being Ladybug's friend and now apparently didn't, despite it happening earlier that very season. Then in response, he decides to date Kagami as a rebound, drags Marinette with him on his date (without realizing how he's asking his friend to be a third wheel on a DATE) and focuses on her when he's supposed to be with Kagami, throws another tantrum in the middle of an akuma fight and refuses to work with his partner when the city is literally frozen, and requires Ladybug to apologize to him for hurting his feelings before he finally working with her. Again. But okay, he's a teenage boy in love. Not used to rejection and got his feelings hurt. Lovesquare is endgame so of course it'll work out anyway, so it's not like this bump in the road is really going to matter long term so we shouldn't hold it against him. Fine. Dumb, but fine. We've forgiven it in other shows and other poorly done teen romances, we can forgive it here.
His behavior in Syren in which he demanded to know secrets from people when the secrets were not theirs to tell him, and went so far as to attempt to blackmail his kwami (which was funny) and threaten to quit and abandon the Ring that the big bad is after while the city is flooded and people were trying to not drown (which was decidedly less humorous). But it was played for wholesome when Plagg reassured him and he got what he wanted by Fu revealed himself even if Adrien did nothing to actually show he earned it, so all's well that ends well, I guess? And people could justify it because "they're partners" and "part of a team" and "she should trust him" and "it's not fair he's the only one left out of the loop" and "he has a right to know" and just general "Fu is an idiot" (which is admittedly hard to argue). So people were disgruntled, but most were willing to overlook it.
His holier than thou lecture to Marinette in Maledictator over everyone being happy Chloe was leaving. When all Marinette was doing at the time was watching everyone else have fun. When Adrien specifically guilted Marinette and not any of the other actual partiers involved who were literally throwing a party over his friend leaving and probably should have warranted a lecture more than the girl just standing there. When the girl in question was also Chloe's main target and out of everyone had valid reasons to be happy that her bully won't be around to bully her anymore. When Adrien himself has historically been present to witness Marinette being targeted including twice he witnessed Chloe attempt to steal from Marinette, once he witnessed her try to blackmail Marinette, and numerous other times when she actively caused harm to Marinette and others. When Adrien then proceeded to sit in a corner and pout rather than do anything else or just leave if the party really bothered him. When Adrien, if he really cared so damn much, could have gone after Chloe himself! Or y'know...have stood up for Chloe earlier when she got upset in the first place. But fine, okay, Chloe is his childhood friend. So maybe he's just being biased and oblivious to the fact that his "friend" is a horrible person. But people can excuse and justify it in that they are friends and friends support each other, and the longer someone is friends with someone else, the harder it is to break from them. And that Marinette was probably just the target of his lecture because she was the one there in the moment (and the only one who would listen without arguing). And her calling Chloe useless was "mean" despite it being quite frankly the least of what she could have said about her in the moment (coughcough theft cough blackmail cough punished the entire school cough TRIED TO CRASH A TRAIN AND NEARLY KILLED HER AND HER PARENTS COUGH-FREAKINGCOUGH). Fine. Childhood friend means Adrien supports her in all her horrible and even deadly actions. Frustrating, but again, able to be explained and you can see where he's coming from.
These are all things that definitely got Adrien some side eye at best and some detractors at worst.
BUT if you really think about it, all of these examples are objectively worse than his lecture to Marinette in Chameleon. Not accepting being told "no" and continuing to chase a girl who isn't that in to him (while leading on another). Putting lives at risk over personal wants that could quite honestly wait until AFTER the crisis is over. Defending someone who is harmful and guilt tripping the victims. Compared to those, telling someone to leave a liar to their lying seems relatively minor.
So why this? Why here? Why is it Chameleon that has people saying enough is enough? Why is it this episode that is causing the sunshine boy to be so tarnished and the subject of salt in fan fiction?
Because this is the time when it couldn't be rationalized. There wasn't even a valid sensible canon-based reason for his stance. The arguments that Adrien "knew confronting her wouldn't work" or that he "handled her like paparazzi" or that he "knew Marinette previously failed when she tried" (even though he wasn't there and didn't know) or that he "didn't think anyone would believe him" don't come from canon. Those were fan arguments made after the fact to justify him after the base was broken and the outcry became too much to ignore.
This case didn't have any of the ties or rationales of the previous incidents. Adrien wasn't defending himself or his place in a partnership. He wasn't fighting for his love or his dream or an outcome he wanted and that we all knew was coming—if anything, he was fighting against her. He wasn't defending a friend like he did with Chloe—I mean, it's pretty evident he doesn't even really know or like Lila at this point, and for all intents and purposes, this is apparently only the second day he actually had any interaction with her. There was no notable reason Adrien really had for why he essentially chose to protect Lila over literally anyone else as she wasn't a friend and it wasn't in his interests to protect her from a consequence that wouldn't hurt her short term as much as it would likely harm everyone else long term.
And yet, he still defended her and her freedom to lie. Over Marinette. Over Ladybug. Over his friends. Over any sense of right and wrong he seems to have no problem throwing around when it comes to Marinette/Ladybug. Which seems like he targets her 9 times out of 10 compared to pretty much anyone else by this point. So it's little wonder then that people who didn't already hate the lovesquare because of the cringe factor from Marinette started to hate it for being incredibly unhealthy given that their relatively limited interactions tend to involve him lecturing her for failing to live up to his double standards that only seem to apply to her in any given situation.
This incident by itself doesn't seem like much, but when looked at as part of the series as a whole, it's when people couldn't keep overlooking this trend. Where he seems to admonish the wrong person. Where he acts like a mouthpiece rather than a person. Talks like he’s wise in a situation he seems to have a childish and one-sided view of. Acts like a brat but is treated as though he has no accountability in the situation he causes. Where he is wrong but no one and certainly not the narrative acknowledges it (not until season five and two seasons too late when it doesn't matter and he's still not the one facing consequences for it).
And it's not like he actually follows the stances he himself promotes. In Chameleon, canon presents him with this idealistic stance that Lila could change if given a chance, except he doesn't give her a chance. He doesn't push her to be a better person. He doesn't support or in any way help her to be the better person he insisted to Marinette she could be. He also doesn't do anything or warn anyone when she keeps lying and actively harms the people he says he cares about. He doesn't do anything one way or the other other than some lackluster encouragement to stop lying and a warning that goes nowhere. It just further gives credit to the argument that Adrien either simply doesn't care about other people, or that he doesn't care for Marinette specifically. Neither is conducive to the lovesquare or the increasingly tarnished view of the "sunshine boy".
And it could have worked. Canonically and intrinsically to his character. His idealism and trust in the wrong person comes back to bite him. He learns and grows from it. Except that, much like with nearly everything he does in canon, Chameleon set it up that Adrien was the writers' mouthpiece and thus was not "wrong". I'll grant that they did have him admit it and apologize to Marinette for it two seasons later, but it is pretty evident that during Chameleon, they intended his lecture to be right, with no foreshadowing and no implication otherwise. And I'm fairly certain they only backtracked and had him do that much because of the amount of fan outrage over the episode.
So yes, I think his lecture in Chameleon was really a final straw since unlike Chloe, Adrien has NO relationship with Lila to justify his defense of her. Especially when the argument is in favor of letting her lie to the people he's supposed to care about. That combined with how jarring it was how most of the class just sided with Lila over the seat issue in the first place, and I think people were less inclined to just ignore the problems in the episode specifically and with the series as a whole as they were compared to the first and second seasons. Not just with Adrien, as we see that Alya also started getting more callout and salt since then as well as more retrospective scrutiny over her behavior in earlier seasons.
But yeah...Chameleon was where things seemed to take a 180, so it's bound to be the deciding episode and deciding incident that sticks out in people's minds with these characters. That's probably why it ends up the go-to for salt and complaints on the characters involved instead of any of the other incidents that would arguably warrant it more.
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luveline · 11 months
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hi jade!! can i request something with the marauders (platonic or romantic) maybe reader has been real stressed with work or school and the marauders try to get her to relax once they realize how stressed she actually is?? ty! u don’t have to do this, it’s just a thought :))
thank you for your request my love, nearly romantic poly!marauders x fem!reader
James notices first, surprisingly. While Sirius is fluent in what goes unsaid, and Remus is more than familiar with stress, it's James who has learned to read his sometimes sulky friends, and so it's James who knows that your tight shoulders and your half-hearted smile are from more than being tired. 
He doesn't want to announce your potential upset upset the world, so he waits for Remus to get a drink while Sirius is in the loo and slides down the sofa toward you until you're sitting thigh to thigh. He doesn't ever want much space from you. He's fortunate that you feel the same. 
"What, James?" you ask, leaning on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" 
"Are you okay?" he asks quietly, solemn, so you know he's serious. 
"Why wouldn't I be okay?" 
"You just seem unhappy tonight, is all. You know you can tell me. Or if you don't want to tell me, you can tell one of the boys." 
Because you and your friends are in an incredibly weird (not weird, really, unexpected, but so full of love and sweetness that weird doesn't apply) situation in which you aren't dating anyone but it feels like you are. James imagines it as a sort of precipice, where you might choose one of them, or, in what seems the more unique but better fit, you might not choose at all. 
James only knows you feel the same way about them as they do about you because you'd confessed to Remus how guilty you feel for stringing them along. He reported back, and is quoted by himself to have said, Well, we must be stringing you along too. While I string James along, and Sirius strings me. 
So everybody fancies everybody and nobody knows what to do about it. (Well, apart from that one kiss between James and Remus, which went exceptionally well. James had known what to do about that). For tonight, nothing has to be done. All James needs to do is figure out how to make you feel better. 
Remus is offended at having had his seat stolen when he returns, but then he sees your sad face slack on James' big shoulder and forgets to be annoyed. Crouching down in front of you, Remus tilts his head to the side to align his face to yours, a frown mirrored on his lips as he asks, "What's wrong, dove?" 
The way he says it makes James pleased, and it also makes him like Remus impossibly more. James is earnest and ardent in wanting to comfort you, but Remus is very, very good at it. He has this seriousness, no-nonsense tone wrapped in a soft affection that could draw out James' very worst secrets. It's no surprise when you crack clean in two and confess.
"I'm really stressed out." Your voice takes a horrible dive, like you might cry. "Um, work is just hard, and I'm worried about money, too." 
James doesn't suppose you're in the depth of a relationship where it's appropriate to offer to bankroll you, and it's not what you want anyhow. He bites back any affluent admission in favour of a subtler approach. 
"You're worried about money?" he asks, gently as he can. "You aren't going without, are you? I really hope you'd tell us if it were bad." 
You shake your head. "I'm not going without. Don't worry, it's not that bad." But it could be, goes unsaid. 
Remus hums, his hand on your knee. "You know we care about you. Please, don't not tell us if you need something, okay?" His hand climbs the stretch of your thigh. "What's worrying you, dove? With work, are they giving you a hard time again?" 
Sirius returns somewhere in the midst of your talking, and he's absolutely horrified when a single tear bounds down your cheek. He squeezes between you and the armrest of the sofa to wipe your face as it comes, his weight almost entirely on top of you, so close that his hair tickles your cheek and neck. "Don't cry. I promise not to leave you alone with these two ever again," he jokes, though the tenderness with which he holds your face is nothing but sincere. 
James, sick of being the only one not comforting you physically, finds one of your hands to hold. It's smaller, and warm, and he pulls it to his chest as though that might hide you away from all the things that are freaking you out. 
To no one's shock, the boys are good listeners. Not always to each other, but what one lacks another can make up, and they manage to pull out from you your pack of troubles one by one. When that's done, they assuage each accompanying fear. 
If the very worst happens, you'll always have them to lean on. 
That makes you cry more than the stress. Grateful —though the last thing they're comforting you for is gratitude— you needle your arms around Sirius' waist and hide your face in his chest. He frowns down at you as he wraps you up tightly. James doesn't even feel jealous. Well, mostly, until Sirius kisses your forehead and James can actually see your happy shudder. Lucky for him, you aren't done. You squeeze Sirius before pulling away and turning to James. He realises then what made Sirius so bold, your whispered thank you like a vibration through his chest. He pats your back. 
"That's alright," he murmurs. 
You nod and squeeze and move on to Remus, who's been sitting at your feet for the last twenty minutes while you cry, concerned but not complaining. He's eager even if he won't say that, climbing to his feet so he can reach down for you and receive his own hug. James is a ridiculous romantic, and he just aches with affection for both of you as he watches Remus nose your cheek. When Remus finally pulls away, Sirius is looking at them with the same expression. 
"Do you feel better?" he asks you. 
You sniffle and wipe your nose with your sleeve sheepishly. "Yes. Thank you, boys. I really don't know what I'd do without you." 
James forgets restraint and swings his arm around your shoulder. "It's a good thing you'll never be without us, then," he says, and kisses your cheek.
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