#something is something you gotta do what you can
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Lost and Found*
Summary: Charles and Y/N have been best friends since they were little kids but they lost track of each other over time. When Charles is in town for his home race they finally reunite and their meeting is sweeter than ever.
Pairing: Bestie!Charles x You
Word count: 4.4K
Warnings: Smut, fluff, cute. There might be some unprotected action in there, I'm sorry.
It's been a very long time since you last saw your best friend. It has been years, which is a shame, but there were reasons. The biggest reason was that he was travelling all over the world for the World Drivers' Championship, and that caused his schedule to be incredibly full. There is also the fact that, because he is rarely home to begin with, you don’t get many chances to see him.
Charles always tries to keep in touch, even with the crazy life he leads. But that might mean only brief texts and the occasional phone call. Sometimes not even those. The last time you heard from him was six months ago when he called to ask how your family was doing. He sounded so tired but excited. You talked for an hour, and it was almost like the last years hadn't happened.
With the new season starting up and him being back on the road, you decided to contact Pascale and see if she could get you in for the Monaco GP. This is an amazing opportunity for you to finally see your best friend and to surprise him with your presence.
The excitement about race day has been building up inside of you ever since you decided to do this. You know you can't expect much attention from Charles after the race, but you're looking forward to seeing him and getting to see him drive. You haven't seen him in person in two years.
You take a shower and then put on the black top and red high-waisted jeans that you have planned to wear to the grid, gotta support Ferrari. When you get into the kitchen, you realise that you are too nervous and excited to eat, so you settle for a banana. You check the time and are happy to notice that you still have some time left to spare, so you go into the living room and switch on the television.
There are no good shows on, so you switch to the music channels and find one that is showing a rerun of an interview Charles did a couple of years ago. The whole country, how small it may be, always turns into full mayhem when it’s raceweek. You smile as you watch him talk. Even after all these years, it's still the same Charlie. He's still your Charlie. You feel a pang in your heart when he smiles his cheeky grin at the interviewer, and you realise just how much you miss him.
As if reading your mind, your phone vibrates on the coffee table. You reach for it and see Charles' caller ID on the screen. You pick up and bring the phone to your ear.
"Charles?"
"Hi, baby!" He sounds excited. "Did I call at a good time? Are you busy?"
"No, I'm not. I was just watching TV." She decides to not tell him that she is going to see him in a couple of hours.
"Oh, what are you watching?"
"Um, an interview. It's not important. What are you doing? Shouldn't you be getting ready for the race?"
"I have a free half hour, and I'm hiding, so nobody can find me. I really needed to talk to you, and I couldn't wait anymore."
"Why did you need to talk to me? Is something wrong?"
"No, it's nothing like that. You're coming to the track today, aren't you?"
Your eyes grow wide and your stomach somersaults. How did he know? Did his mother give something away?
"How...how did you know?" You finally manage to say.
"I'm not stupid, Y/N. I know how you talk when you're nervous and when you're not. When I talked to you about my home race last week, your voice didn't sound like usual. You sounded nervous, and it was pretty obvious that you were going." He laughs on the phone.
"Wow, I'm not very subtle, am I?" You feel stupid.
"You really aren't." His voice sounds warm and inviting, and you feel a shiver running down your spine.
"So, why did you want to call me, if it wasn't to tell me not to come?"
"Oh, I would never tell you not to come. I really want you to be there today."
"But… Don’t you have a very busy schedule? You probably won't even have time to see me."
"Don't worry, baby. I will definitely see you. If I don't, you should find the backstage area and tell them to let you in. I already told the security team your name. They'll let you in."
"Really? Charles, you're crazy. You have a race to prepare for. You shouldn't let random fans into your private space."
"But you're not a random fan. You're Y/N."
"I'm glad that you still think of me like that, even though we haven't seen each other in a while."
"What do you mean?" Charles sounds confused. "Of course, I still think of you as my best friend. Nothing can change that."
You feel a lump forming in your throat. You don't want to cry, not now. Charles means the world to you, and he will never know. You are not the kind of girl who confesses her love to crushes, not even when they are her best friends.
"Y/N, are you still there?"
"Yeah, I'm still here. I was just thinking about something."
"Well, stop thinking. We're going to see each other in a couple of hours." He is smiling; you can hear it in his voice.
***
When you enter the city centre, the excitement inside of you is unbearable. The atmosphere is incredible, and the streets are so crowded and so full of life and happiness. Everyone is happy to be here, and so are you.
You find your way to the Paddock Club, which thankfully Pascale got you an access pass to because you would’ve never been able to afford this. As you wait for the race to start, you keep looking around trying to find familiar faces and wondering what Charles is doing right now.
The sun was shining brilliantly over Monte Carlo, its rays dancing off the azure waters of the Mediterranean as one of the most anticipated events of the year, the Monaco Grand Prix, is about to begin. Your heart is racing almost as fast as the cars that would soon tear through the narrow, winding streets.
Charles was starting from P1. Your Charles, the pride of Monaco. His Ferrari sat poised and ready, a crimson beast waiting to be unleashed. As you watch the big screen showing the last preparations for the race, you can’t help but feel a swell of emotion. You are already so proud of him.
Soon the camera pans over the cars lined up at the starting line showing the drivers walking to their vehicles. He climbs into the car, and the mechanics begin their final checks. The roar of the engines filled the air, a symphony of power and precision. The grid is set, and the lights above the starting line begin their countdown.
Red. Red. Red. Green.
The cars surge forward, a blur of colour and sound. Charles holds his position, deftly navigating the treacherous streets with the skill and grace of a dancer. Every corner, every straight, he is in perfect harmony with his car.
From the paddock, you watch every moment with bated breath. Your fingers are crossed, your heart lodged in your throat. Lap after lap, he maintains his lead, his driving a masterclass of control and speed. The crowds roar, the tension palpable as the race unfolds.
As the laps dwindle down, you find yourself almost unable to watch. He is so close, so close to his biggest dream. The pit stops have gone flawlessly, the strategy executed to perfection. But Monaco was a track where anything can happen, and the slightest mistake can spell disaster.
Then, with a grace that seems almost effortless, Charles navigates the final corner and speeds down the straight towards the finish line. The checkered flag waves and the crowd erupts into a frenzy. He has done it. He won the Monaco Grand Prix.
Tears of joy stream down your face as you watch him cross the finish line, arms raised in triumph. The team explodes into celebration around you, but all you can see is Charles. He climbs out of the car, drenched in sweat and triumph, and your eyes meet across the chaos.
His gaze pierces through you, sending a shiver down your spine. And then, he smiles. That dazzling smile that has captured the hearts of millions. And in that moment, you know that your heart belongs to him, forever.
***
It's been hours since the race ended. After all the interviews, the podium, the celebration, Charles was finally able to get some free time for himself. His eyes are roaming the room, looking for a familiar face, but he can't find you anywhere. Maybe you left without saying goodbye. He feels disappointed. He wanted to see you and to hug you.
The door opens and someone enters the room. Charles doesn't bother to look up. He is too busy feeling sorry for himself. But then your voice is what catches his attention. "Hi, stranger."
He looks up, and there you are, standing in the doorway. He is not dreaming. You are here, in Monaco, and he has just won the race. Life couldn't get any better than this.
"Hi, Y/N." He stands up and walks towards you.
You are speechless. Seeing him winning the race made you so emotional that you had tears in your eyes. Now, standing in front of him, all those feelings come rushing back. "Congratulations on your win. I'm so proud of you." You say as he pulls you in a tight hug. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close. You close your eyes and breathe him in, his familiar scent surrounding you.
"Thank you. I'm so happy that you're here." His voice is muffled against your hair.
You pull back slightly, looking up into his warm, brown eyes. There is something in the way he is looking at you that makes your heart race. You have never felt more alive, more connected, than in this moment. You feel as if he can see into your very soul, and the intensity of his gaze takes your breath away.
"Me too." You say softly, your voice barely a whisper. He leans in closer, his lips just a breath away from yours. Your heart is hammering in your chest, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into the moment.
Just as you're about to kiss him, he pulls back with a chuckle as if he only now realises that you are in a room full of people. You look around and see his family and the Ferrari employees as well as the security guards who are probably watching the two of you like hawks.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realise..." He begins, his cheeks flushed.
"It's okay." You say, taking a step back and running a hand through your hair. "I didn't realise either."
The room falls silent, and you can't help but wonder if everyone heard your exchange. You feel your face flush, and you turn away, avoiding Charles' gaze.
"We should go somewhere more private." He whispers in your ear, making you blush. You nod and follow him out of the room. The security guards let the two of you pass, and Charles leads you down a quiet hallway. You follow him in silence, your mind racing. You can't believe what just happened.
When you reach a secluded area, Charles turns to face you, a sheepish grin on his face. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there."
"You didn't. I just...I was surprised."
"Good surprised or bad surprised?" He looks nervous, and it makes you smile.
"Good surprised. Very good."
"I'm glad." He reaches out and takes your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours as you continue to make your way outside. "I've missed you so much, Y/N."
You smile up at him, feeling your heart swell with emotion. "I've missed you too, Charlie. More than you can imagine."
As you step out into the warm Monaco air, you can't help but think how lucky you are to be here, with him. He is the best friend anyone could ever have, and you feel honoured that he considers you his best friend. You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes yours in return. You know that, whatever happens next, you will always have each other.
Charles brings the two of you to a halt next to where his bicycle is stalled. "I totally forgot I came here by bike." He says, shaking his head. "Do you wanna come with me, or do you prefer to take a taxi?"
"No, no. I'll come with you." You don't want to spend a single minute away from him.
He smiles at you and nods. He climbs on the bike and motions for you to sit on the top tube as his bike doesn't have a rear rack. You hop on the top tube and wrap your arms around his handlebar for balance. "Jesus Christ, this feels dangerous."
"Just trust me." He says, a twinkle in his eye as he closes his arms around you to grab a hold of the handlebars.
"You sure we'll both fit on the bike?" You ask nervously.
"Of course, we'll fit. Come on." He starts pedalling and soon the two of you are zipping through the streets of Monaco, the sun setting in the distance.
You lean against him, feeling the warmth of his body, and you close your eyes. For the first time in years, you feel completely and utterly content. As the two of you ride through the streets of Monaco, his arms basically wrapped around you, you can't help but think that this is what happiness feels like.
"Charlie, where are we going?"
"Home." He says it so casually as if it's obvious that you belong there too.
You stay silent for the rest of the journey. You just want to enjoy the moment, savour the feeling of his body against yours. When you finally arrive at his apartment, the sun has almost disappeared from the horizon, leaving behind a pink and orange sky.
"Here we are." Charles says as he helps you off the bike. You can't help but notice how his hand lingers on yours, the contact sending a shiver down your spine. After a brief loss of contact to lock his bike, his fingers intertwine with yours and he guides you inside the apartment complex.
The elevator ride is silent, but it's not awkward. It's a comfortable silence, the kind you only share with your best friend. When the elevator doors open, Charles leads you down the hallway to his apartment, his hand still holding yours.
When he unlocks the door and ushers you inside, the first thing you notice is how big the apartment is. It's luxurious, just like he is, and you can't help but be a little jealous. He leads you into the kitchen, which is modern and well-equipped. "Make yourself at home. Do you want something to drink?"
"Just some water, please." You say, your mouth suddenly dry. He nods and busies himself at the sink. You take the opportunity to look around, taking in the sleek furniture and artwork adorning the walls.
When Charles returns with the glass of water, he can't help but notice the awe on your face. "What is it?"
"It's just...this place is so fancy. It's amazing."
He smiles, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Well, I'm glad you like it. Maybe I could give you a tour later."
"That would be great." You can't hide the excitement in your voice. You take the glass of water from him and sip it slowly, trying to calm your racing heart.
Charles walks over to the living room and you follow him like a lost puppy. It's when your eyes fall on the black grand piano that you gasp. "Wow, you have a grand piano!"
He turns around, a grin on his face. "Yeah, I love to play the piano. It's a good way to relax after a long day."
"Can you play me something?" You ask, unable to hide your excitement.
"Sure. What do you want me to play?"
"Anything. Surprise me." You say, smiling at him.
He walks over to the piano and sits down on the stool before he pats the empty space beside him. "Come, sit next to me."
You make your way over to him and sit down, feeling a little nervous. He begins to play, his fingers dancing across the keys. The melody is beautiful and melancholic, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You're completely mesmerised by him, by the way his fingers move so gracefully, by the look of concentration on his face.
As the music swells around you, you feel a sense of calmness washing over you. This is what you've been missing, what you've needed all this time. You lean your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the music.
"What is this song called?" You ask, your eyes still closed.
"I don't know." He whispers. "I made it up."
"You're so talented, Charles." You say, unable to hide the admiration in your voice.
He turns his head slightly and his lips brush against your forehead. "Thank you."
You open your eyes and look at him, the emotion in his eyes mirroring your own. You can't help but feel as if the world has stopped spinning and that it's only the two of you in the universe, in this moment.
He leans closer, his lips ghosting over yours. "Y/N, can I kiss you?"
You nod, unable to speak, and he closes the distance between you. The world around you fades into nothingness as his lips brush against yours. It's soft at first, tentative as if testing the waters of this new, uncharted territory. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate, more urgent. His hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair.
The taste of him is intoxicating, a blend of familiarity and excitement. You can feel the years of friendship and unspoken longing in every touch, every movement. It's as if the floodgates have finally opened, and all the emotions you had both kept hidden come rushing out.
When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, your foreheads rest against each other’s. The room is silent except for the sound of your rapid breathing and the faint echo of the last note Charles had played.
"That was..." You begin, searching for the right word.
"Yeah." Charles smiles, a blush rising to his cheeks. "That was incredible."
You laugh softly, leaning into him and resting your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist and holds you close, the warmth of his body soothing you. You sit there in silence for a while, enjoying the feeling of being close to each other.
"Hey, are you tired?" he asks.
"No, just relaxed."
"Okay. Well, I have a question for you."
"Ask away."
"Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"Tell you what?"
"That you love me."
Your eyes fly open, and your heart stops. He is looking at you, his expression serious. You swallow hard and try to think of an answer. But your brain doesn't cooperate, and you can't speak.
"W-what are you talking about?" You stutter.
"I'm talking about the fact that you are in love with me."
"No, I'm not. Why would you think that?"
"Because it's obvious."
"Oh."
"You look shocked whenever I flirt with you and after that so happy. It's the same look I have when I'm thinking about you." You can't believe what he is saying. Does he really mean it? Or is he just playing with your emotions? "Why didn't you ever tell me? Because of my job?"
"No, it's not that. I just...I didn't want to ruin our friendship. You're the most important person in my life, and I didn't want to lose you."
"Oh, baby. You will never lose me."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
He cups your face with his hands and leans in again. Your eyes flutter closed, and his lips touch yours. The kiss is slow and gentle. His lips are soft and taste like mint. You feel a tingle in your stomach, and you can't help but sigh. His tongue darts out and caresses your lips. You open your mouth, and he slips his tongue inside. Your tongues tangle together, and the kiss becomes more passionate. When you finally pull apart again, you are breathing heavily. He smiles and strokes your cheek.
"You are so beautiful, Y/N. You know that, right?"
"Charles..."
"No, it's true. And you deserve to be told how beautiful you are every day."
"Oh, Charles."
He pulls you into his arms and kisses your temple. You lean against his chest and breathe in his scent. It feels so right to be here with him. After all these years, you finally feel like you belong.
"What are you thinking about?" He asks.
"About the fact that I don't wanna go home."
"Who said you have to?"
"What do you mean?"
"Stay with me tonight."
"Really?"
"Yes. Stay the night. I don't want you to leave."
"Okay."
He stands up and takes your hand. You follow him down the hallway and into his bedroom before he sits you down on the bed. He sits down next to you and strokes your cheek. You look into his eyes and see the same desire that you feel. You lean in and kiss him. His lips are warm and soft, and his tongue feels amazing. Your body is tingling, and you can't get enough. You wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. He pulls you closer and kisses you passionately. Your bodies are pressed together, and you can feel his arousal. You moan and rub your body against his. He breaks the kiss and looks at you. His eyes are dark with lust, and his pupils are dilated.
"Mhm, Y/N. You're driving me crazy." He pulls you into his lap and kisses you again. His hands roam your body, and you arch your back. He slips his hand under your shirt and cups your breast. You gasp and close your eyes. He squeezes your breast and rolls your nipple between his fingers.
"Oh God." You moan.
"Do you like that?"
"Yes. It feels so good."
He keeps massaging your breasts while kissing your neck. You grind your hips against him, and he groans. You can feel his erection, and it turns you on even more. He moves his hand to your other breast and starts massaging it.
He pushes you onto the bed and gets on top of you. His hands move under your shirt, and he pulls it off. You arch your back and expose your breasts. He licks his lips and leans down to kiss your nipples. He sucks on one and flicks his tongue over the other. You moan and dig your nails into his back.
He moves his hand down to your pants and starts undoing the button. He pulls them down, along with your panties, and tosses them aside. He looks at your naked body and smiles.
"You're so beautiful."
He leans down and kisses you. His tongue darts out, and he runs it over your lips. You part your lips and let him inside. He explores your mouth and moans.
"Mhm, I want you."
"Then take me." You say.
He pulls his shirt off and throws it aside. He undoes his pants and pushes them down. He kneels between your legs and looks at you. You can see his erection through his boxers. You bite your lip and reach out. You run your hand over his bulge and feel the heat. He groans and closes his eyes.
"Y/N."
"Yes?"
"I want you so bad."
"Then take me."
He quickly pulls his boxers down before he grabs your hips and pushes you further onto the bed. He lies down on top of you and kisses you. His erection rubs against your core, making you gasp.
"God, you're so wet." He moves his hand between your legs and strokes your clit. You moan and buck your hips. He positions his cock at your entrance and pushes in. You gasp and close your eyes. His cock fills you up completely, and you feel complete.
He starts moving slowly, and you cling to him. He kisses you deeply and groans. He moves faster, and you cry out. You wrap your legs around his waist and arch your back.
"Yes, Charles. Right there. Please."
He pounds into you harder, and you feel yourself approaching the edge. You never had sex that felt this right.
"I'm gonna come."
"Come for me, baby."
You scream his name and climax. Your body trembles, and you shudder. He moans and buries his face in your neck. You feel his release, and he collapses on top of you.
"God, Y/N. That was amazing."
"It was."
He rolls off of you and pulls you into his arms. You snuggle against his chest, and he kisses your forehead.
"So, this is where we've been heading since day one, huh?" You chuckle.
"Well, yeah. I just didn't expect it to take twenty years."
"Yeah, me neither."
"And I also thought we'd be more cautious about it." Charles laughs realising he completely forgot to use a condom.
"I don't know, I just didn't care."
"Yeah, me neither."
You kiss his cheek and rest your head on his chest.
"Charles?"
"Hm?"
"Will we be able to make this work? I mean, with our lives and everything?"
"We'll figure it out. I'm not letting you go."
"Good."
You close your eyes and listen to his heartbeat. He is holding you tight, and you can't imagine being anywhere else. You kiss his chest and slowly drift off to sleep in his arms.
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— Where's dumb and dumber?
here's pt. 4 of chaos fc, this is honestly so much fun to write and its' a nice break from the angsty stuff as well, cos' I really can't be dealing with any of it right now!
thanks to @alotofpockets as always for helping me out with ideas along the way and giving me the confidence to post!
pairings: kim little x reader, kyra cooney cross x reader, awfc x reader
summary: reader and kyra continue to try and cause trouble down under, however, some of the girls are quick to realise before its' too late.
also, reader is a protective guarddog when it comes to her best friend getting hurt.
"Come on Kimmy, it was harmless fun!" You exclaim, trailing through the hotel after the long bus ride back from the open traning session and it was safe to say that your Captain was still pretty miffed about what had happened in the changing rooms.
Well, if the looks from the Scots' women were anything to go by then, yeah, you were definitely still in trouble.
"Harlmess or not, I told you to not cause anymore trouble!" Kim states in a firm tone of voice, stopping in her step to turn and look at you, "I feel like I can't even leave you alone for 5 minutes without you gettin' into trouble!"
"I don't see what the big deal is," You can't help but huff and wonder if your Captain is being slightly dramatic.
That was definitely the wrong answer to say, if the look that the older Scots' was anything to go by.
"The big deal?" Kim scoffs and shakes her head, "The big deal is that I'm really gettin' fed up with the constant immature behaviour-- When are you going to grow up, Y/N!?" She snaps.
This is probably the point in which you should say something sensible...
"Where's the fun in that though?"
Or not then.
You watch as your Captains' eyes widen in disbelief before shes' shaking her head, "Thank God we're going back to London in a few days!" She mutters before she pinches the bridge of her nose, "Enough of the pranks, now! I mean it, Y/N. You so much as pull another prank and I'm phoning Leah again to let her know of the recent trouble you've gotten yourself into!"
Without so much as another word, Kim storms off in another direction and your left dumbfound, feeling more than guilty for causing your skipper a near nervous breakdown from the trouble you've been causing.
"Leprachauns' out for revenge," Your partner in crime leans in and whispers, careful to not get caught as shes' under the watchful eye of Steph still, so you can guess that she got a grilling about things as well.
Plus, Caitlin as well most likely, after all it was her girlfriend that got the brunt of the prank that backfired on the wrong victim.
"Yeah, I'd say we're toast whenever she catches up to us," You tell her in a hushed whisper as she wince when your eye catches the Irish defender, who your certain is definitely still holding a grudge about what happened.
"How much trouble did you get in with Kim this time?" Kyra wonders, curiously.
"Eh its' nothin' I can't handle, but she did threaten to call Leah again," Your face pales at the thought of the blonde hearing what else you had been up to. "What did Steph say to you?" You ask.
"Pretty much to not do it again, you know? Blah, blah, blah," Kyra relays what said back as she rolls her eyes. "Caitlin wasn't too happy either about things, considering its' her misses." She states, amusedly.
"Oops," You can't help but surpress the giggle that slips out of your mouth. "Guess we've gotta tone it down on the pranks for a bit." You murmer in realisation.
No way did you want to deal with an angry blonde yelling at you down the phone again, needless to say you were going to try and keep a low profile for now at least.
"Where's the fun in that though?" Kyra jokes as she slides her phone out of her pocket and starts to scroll through her Instagram feed, "Hey, Y/N-- Have you seen these?" With that being said, she not so politely shoves her phone in your face.
"Wha-- No way, seriously?" You can't help but crack up laughing as you watch the fan edit replay over fans' speculating that you and Kyra being together as more than just friends, "There's no way that people are believing this!" You exclaim.
Kyra can't stifle her laughter as she nods, "I know, right? We're just friends!" She finds humour in the situation; Your used to fans freaking out about things, but seeing the interaction between you both and immediately labelling it as a relationship was just hilarious to even see.
"We're nothing but chaotic, platonic little shit best friends," You grin as you playfully throw your arm around the older girl and lock her in a head lock. "Hey! I have an idea, let's just give the fans what they want!" You exclaim as an idea pops into your head.
Kyra manages to wrangle herself out of your grasp and scrunches her face up, "Ew. No offence, Y/N/N, but I don't see you that way. I'm not kissing you." She states.
"Wha-- No, not like that you idiot. Lets' just wind them up!" You roll your eyes as you pull your phone out of your pocket, tapping on your Instagram and hold it in front of you both as you playfully plant a kiss on the older girls' cheek, "Ere', smile!"
"Right, so when we get to the stadium we'll-- Oh hold on a second!" Kyra's quick to get distracted in the middle of her explanation, leaving the piece of paper with varies scribbles out in plain sight for anyone else to walk past and see it.
Definitely not careful enough to hide it.
A certain blonde is able to find them easy enough.
"What're they up to now?" Alessia furrows her eyebrow as she lifts up the piece of paper, skeptical of being caught victim to another one of your pranks after watching the latest mayhem unfold with the Irish being the one to pay the price, "Vic, have you seen this?" She motions to the Dutch player.
"Seen what?" Vic asks, confused.
"This," Alessia mumers, gesturing to the paper that she holds up in her hand. "I can't really understand it-- Butterfingers and pancake? Are they, like, yeah I'm confused." The blondes' at a loss, trying to wrap her head around the explanation of the writing on the paper.
Vic isn't able to understand it either by her puzzled facial expression, "What the-- Are they baking a cake?" She questions, confused.
"I... I don't know," Alessia is clearly stumped over what it means as she looks around for someone who might understand it clearly, "Katie! Come look at this a second, please?" She gestures in the direction for the Irish girl to join the conversation.
"What's up?" Katie wonders, walking over to the two girls. "What you got there?" She asks, confused as she glances at the paper in her hands that Vic hands to her.
"We don't know. We can't understand it," Vic admits, confused.
"Butterfingers and pancake," Katie repeats, bewildered. "What... Whos' is this?" She asks, at a loss of what to even make of this right now.
"Kyra left it on the bench," Alessia answers.
Katies' eyes widen in realisation, "It's another prank." She mutters, searching round the room for the two culprits, who are strangely quiet right now. "Caitlin! Have you seen dumb and dumber?" She questions.
"Who're we talkin' about, right now?" Caitlin questions, laughing in amusement.
"Y/N and Kyra," Katie states, motioning to the paper that she holds in her hand. "I think they're up to something again." She adds.
"Oh you mean the English and Aussie pest," Caitlin jokes, walking over to join the three of them as she eyes' the paper in her girlfriends hands, "Seriously? Not again." She grumbles, shaking her head.
"I say that we let Kim know what's going on," Katie declares, looking around for the older Scots' women. "Kim!" She got the attention of the captain.
"Ye', what's up?" Kim looks over in the Irish girls' direction.
Katie wordessly hands the paper over to the Scottish women with an amused expression plastered on her face, "Thought I'd give you the heads up, Cap." She jokes.
Taking in the notes on the paper, Kims' left looking bewildered and lost for words, "Just one day," She mutters to herself, at her wits' end the troublemaker duo.
"What'd they do?" Steph chimes in, being near to the Scots' women.
"Take a look yourself," Katie jokes, glancing to the paper.
"Oh boy," Steph exhales a sigh as she reads over it, "What the hell does butterfingers and pancake mean?" She asks, confused.
"I don't know, but I know it means they're up to no good," Kim mutters, exhaling a sigh.
"Steph and I will have a word with Kyra and we'll leave Y/N to you," Caitlin reassures the older Scots' woman as she pats her on the shoulder before trying to spot out the Australian girl, "Kyra, over here!" She speaks aloud to get her attention.
"Wha-- I didn't do out!" Kyra exclaims in protest, throwing her hands up in the air.
"Not yet you haven't, we're putting a stop to it before it happens," Steph chimes in, shaking her head as she slings her arm around the girl.
"Y/N, come here!" Kim shouts aloud to get your attention from across the room.
"Busted," You mutter to yourself and slump over to meet the stern look of your captain, suddenly having a sense of dejavu about this certain situation. "Whatever you think I did, I didn't do." You state.
"What's this?" Kim holds up the paper note in her hand.
"Er, well its' a piece of paper. Was that supposed to be a trick question?" You question, sarcastically.
By the look on the older womens' face, you should know that she is not messing around and you should most definitely refrain from any further sarcastic comment.
However, you just can't help yourself sometimes.
"You know what I mean," Kim deadpans, pursing her lips. "Whatever this is, it stops right now!" Your captain is promptly wagging her finger in front of your face.
"I don't know what your on about," You mumble, trying to play innocent. "I don't even know what that is." You add, continuing to play dumb about it all.
"Yes you do, Y/N-- The girls found it, I know its' a prank and I'm telling you to pack it in right now!" Kim lectures; You have to admit that she really can be scary sometimes, and its' nothing to do with her height.
"Snitches," You murmer under your breath as you can't help but glare at the girls around the room.
"You should be gettin' ready for the match, not planning any of this dumb pranks-- Carry on and I'll have you benched!" Kim continues to scold you, mentioning about the upcoming match you're currently supposed to be getting ready for to play against the All Stars. "Stop muckin' around and get ready right now, do you understand?"
You swallow the lump in your throat and shuffle in your spot, "Yes Kim, I understand." You mumble, although you can't help but stare down at the floor.
Sure enough the lecture is enough to scare you to try and not cause any more chaos, besides that can wait for after the match at least for now.
"So, Tiny threatened to have me benched if I pull another prank," You murmer to your best friend after you finish getting ready for the match.
"I just got a right earful from Floof and Veggie," Kyra huffs in agreement as she finishes tying up the laces on the boots. "They found the papers." She adds in realisation.
"No shit, only cos' you left them aside for anyone to see!" You exclaim, glaring at the older Aussie girl.
"It weren't my fault I got distracted!" Kyras' quick to protest as she throws her hands up in mock surrender.
"Well either way, I have to keep on her good side now or shes' gonna call Malfoy!" You tell her, huffing and slumping your shoulders; You really didn't want to endure a certain blonde defender lecturing you down the phone at all.
"Malfoy?" Kyra questions, confused.
You nod in agreement, already reaching for your phone to explain the reason behind the newfound nickname for the centre back, "Yep, new nickname for the English skip, cos' I seen the comments about her new haircut and they're hilarious comparing her to a draco malfoy wannabee," You tap on the former picture that the girls had taken back in London and show the older girl. "See?" You smirk in amusement.
"That's brilliant!" Kyra can't help but burst out laughing, "Your right, suits' her well!" She adds in agreement with your name for the stern english captain.
"Come on, lets' go girls. We need to line up!" Kim motions the pair of them out of the changing rooms with the rest of the girls.
"Comin'!" You shout in response, the two of you both dwadling to join the rest of the girls.
Kim spins around and eyes you both skeptically, "Remember what I said? No trouble!" She warns.
"You got it, Cap. No trouble whatsoever!" You grin in agreement, eager to stay on the Scot womens' good side for the time being.
"I mean it," Kim states.
"I know, I know. I'll be on my best behaviour, don't yer' worry!" You agree, signalling a mock salute as you join the end of the line, ready to head on to the pitch to face the All Stars.
"Agh!" You know you should be focusing on the game, however, its' impossible with what is currently going on right now.
Seagulls, feral birds that you're terrified off.
"God damn this ball-- They keep deflating!" Katie exclaims, motioning to the ref for the need to change the ball again, meanwhile you're still trying to not have a complete meltdown about the severe amount of seagulls flying around the pitch.
"Kimmy, help me! Somebody, anybody, help me!" You dart around the pitch like a maniac, to try and avoid them.
"Y/N, calm down! You're fine!" Kim tries to reassure you, all while trying to keep her focus on the game that you're currently playing on the pitch.
You shake your head and your not afraid to admit you were deeply scared of this birds, "I'm not fine! There's... Theres' birds, everywhere!" You exclaim.
"Y/N, they're harlmess..." Steph chimes in, mostly amused with your freak out on the pitch.
"No, no, they're fuckin' not!" You shout aloud in fear, doing your best to try and duck down as one flies in your direction. "Why the heck are they flying so low?" You question in horror.
"Y/N, focus on the game!" Caitlin chuckles, shaking her head.
"I... I can't! There everywhere, Caitlin!" Your downright petrified of these birds, however, your team all seem to find the situation amusing.
Kim pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head, "Good lord," She mutters to herself as she moves to gain possession of the ball. "Ere' Y/N!" She shouts in your direction to pass you the ball seeing as your stood in a spot that's open.
Dodging the pesky seagulls, you swoop in towards the direction of the ball and kick it towards Mini Viv who then is able to knock it to Alessia, whos' remaining unmarked and shes' able to head it in the back of the net to give your team to advantage to take the lead and be 1 nil up.
"G'wan, Lessi!" You exclaim, running towards the blonde to dive on her in celebration for the wonderful goal she had scored. "Lessi Russo with the stunning header!"
"Shut up you idiot," Alessia chuckles and swats the back of your head.
Taking the opportunity to enjoy the moment, your focus is switched back to the game in hand, wanting to at least have the chance to score another goal before the end of the game.
However, your fear for the certain birds turned into anger at the very minute that you watched your counter partner be involved in a particulary nasty foul and land on the ground.
"What the-- Nah seriously, ref? What the actual fuck!" Your throwing your hands in air in protest, outraged how the player on the opposite team was able to get away with it. "Are you blind!? Your an absolute idiot to not see that!"
You can admit that you might have been a slight bit more angrier with your words than you should have been.
Thank God it is just a friendly and no yellow cards can be given out.
"Kyra!" You are quick to rush to her side, the fear for the older Aussie girl whos' now being seen by the medical team. "Are you okay?" You question, concerned.
"Ow," Kyra murmers, wincing in pain.
Breathing a sigh of relief that she seems to be fine, given the cheeky grin she gave to the camera when she was being seen by the medical team, you stood up and turned to look at the player in anger.
"What the actual fuck-- Are you that stupid to hurt her like that?" You just see red, getting up in their face and pushing them back roughly. "You'rea fuckin' idiot!" You seeth.
"Y/N, cool it!" Kims' quick to try and reign in your outburst on the pitch, trying to grab a hold of your upper bicep and drag you away from the situation before you make it worse for yourself. "What the hell are you playing at? Are you purposely looking for a way to cause trouble-- Control your anger!" She states, firmly.
"They hurt Kyra," You murmer, looking over to check in on your best friend. "They didn't even care about it either!" You motion to the player, who seemed completely unphased about the foul.
"Relax, Y/N. Kyra's fine, you need to control your temper," Kim states, sternly as she shook her head. "Your lucky this is just a friendly, or you'd have been sent off already!"
"They... They hurt Kyra," You repeat, not entirely happy that the player got away with it like she did.
It seems like your outburst on the pitch was more of a reason for Jonas, or as you'd kindly labelled him, Thanos to sub you off in replacement from one of the young guns; Initially, you were annoyed about it, however, you were soon joined by Kyra, so at least the two of you could chat on the bench.
"Are you alright?" You try and see if Kyra's actually okay, depsite the fact the medical team had seen to her on the pitch and even went to so much trouble as bring a stretcher on.
"I'm fine, relax, guard dog," Kyra jokes, plonking herself down in a seat beside you. "You know, fans' seeing your outburst like that is just gonna give them more reason to speculate them rumours." She jokes.
"Let them speculate all they want. I'm just a protective best friend," You grumble in response, not liking the fact of seeing the Aussie girl go down on the pitch at all.
© scribblesofagoonerr
#woso x reader#woso fanfics#arsenal women x reader#woso imagine#woso one shot#arsenal wfc x reader#kim little x reader#kyra cooney cross x reader#scribblesofagoonerr#chaosfc
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breakfast in bed
in which: you gotta get up and go to work, but seonghwa has something else in mind.
pair: (idol!)seonghwa/afab!reader
word count: 1.5k
content: smut, established relationship, morning sex, oral sex, cunnilingus (ofc), fingering, unprotected sex (PLS DON'T FORGET TO WRAP UP IRL), a little bit of a breeding kink, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: i blame my roommate for this title.
You woke up first that morning while your boyfriend laid next to you fast asleep. He got to sleep in because he didn’t have any schedules for the rest of the week, while you still had to haul your ass to work because the bills needed to be paid. With a soft sigh, you stretched a bit. Before you could slip out of the covers, Seonghwa’s arms reached out for you, and he hugged you from behind.
“Good morning,” he mumbled as he pressed his forehead into your back.
“Good morning,” you replied softly.
You rested your hands over his and snuggled comfortably into his embrace. Yes, you had to go to work, but you always had some time to spare in the morning. So, you spent a good couple of minutes in Seonghwa’s arms before attempting to pull yourself out of them.
“Baby, don’t go,” Seonghwa whined, his hold on you getting tighter.
“I have to get up, Hwa. I gotta work.”
“Gotta work. Gotta make that money, make purse,” Seonghwa mumbled, making you roll your eyes playfully.
“See? You get it. Now let me go.”
“No.”
You turned around in Seonghwa’s arms to flick his forehead, but upon seeing his beautiful face, your body refused to even lift a finger on him. Instead, you cupped his face, your thumb gently grazing his cheekbone. He smiled softly as his eyes fluttered open.
“I haven’t seen you in so long… Can’t you just call out of work? I want to spend the day with you… We can just stay in bed all day…” he whispered as his face neared yours.
“As tempting as that offer sounds, I have deadlines to meet,” you whispered back as you swept his bed-head hair away from his face.
“Those deadlines can wait one day,” Seonghwa pushed his agenda harder. He brought you even closer to him with a little jerk before nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. “Think about it: no work, no chores— just us and a whole lot of… Not sleeping.”
His voice was getting more and more sensual as he explained what he would like to do with you that day, his hips pressing into yours slightly. You swallowed the pool of saliva that had rapidly formed when you felt his semi-firm cock rub against your crotch. Dammit, there was no way you would be able to leave him now. You wanted and needed him with your entire being.
“Alright,” you finally agreed.
Seonghwa’s face shot up from your neck, a huge smile on his face as he shone radiantly before you.
“Really? Are you sure?” he asked with his most innocent voice.
“What the hell, Seonghwa? You can’t pressure me like that and then be all angelic—”
While you lectured him, Seonghwa ended up cutting you off when he went under the covers, leaving playful bite marks along your waist, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your bottoms and pulling them downwards and off your body, your clothes getting buried under the duvet. A soft sigh left your lips as you pushed your hands down the covers to run your fingers through Seonghwa’s locks as he spread your legs apart.
You felt Seonghwa pepper kisses along the inside of your thigh, his hands going under your thighs and pushing them up. You wanted to see his face while he went down on you, so you threw the duvet off you to reveal your boyfriend and see that his face was dangerously close to your cunt, his shaggy bed-head covering his eyes. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could see his lips curl into a sly smile and his tongue lick his lower lip in anticipation.
Seonghwa had a routine when he went down on you. He first licked a stripe from the bottom of your cunt to the top so painfully slowly, ensuring that every single nerve in your body tingled with excitement. Then, he left a sweet kiss on your clit before sucking lightly. And he did this every single time he ate you out, but it never failed to pleasure you greatly.
You arched your back and flung your head back as a sigh of pleasure left your lungs. When he stopped sucking and gave you a second to recover, you brought your head down and saw him looking at you with the most innocent yet devilish eyes. You ran your fingers through his hair and held his hair back for him before he resumed. His tongue swirled around your clit before teasing you, pushing past your folds and into you.
Every time he did something just right, you tugged on his hair slightly and stifled a moan while rolling your hips into his face. He started sensually then gradually picked up his pace when your attempts to hold back your moans failed. He let his tongue focus on flicking your clit quickly and repeatedly as he brought two of his slender fingers towards your cunt.
“H-Hwa!”you cried as you started panting, your vision blurring with stars. “Ah! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Your thighs trembled as your orgasm washed over you, Seonghwa fingers curling inside you one final time before pulling out, letting you squirt all over the bed. You cried loudly, your entire body tingling as you came.
Seonghwa barely gave you a moment to breathe. The second your hips stopped bucking upwards, he shed his pants and kneeled between your legs, his arms on either side of your shoulders. He used one hand to align his cock with your cunt, and the second his cock slid right in, he lowered upper body, his face right above yours.
“You feel good baby?” he whispered as his hips began to move slowly. “You like when I eat you out, don’t you?”
“I like everything you do, baby,” you whispered back.
Seonghwa, who had a teasing smirk, clamped his mouth shut. A light blush rose to his cheeks, and his cock throbbed inside you. His hips started moving slowly into you. The friction started making the tension in your stomach tense up again. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms over his shoulders, focusing entirely on him and his being.
The second your eyes became hazy and half-lidded, Seonghwa lowered himself to his elbows. His lips teased yours as he brushed them past yours very intentionally. You could feel his gradually quickening breath on your neck and collarbones as his head bobbed down every so often to actually leave a kiss, a mark, on the empty canvas of your neck and chest.
“You look so pretty under me like this, baby…” he sighed out “You look so sexy right now.”
Seonghwa continued to whisper sweet nothings into your ears as he sped up his gyrations.
“I’ve never wanted anyone the way that I want you,” he said with a husky voice as he brushed your hair out of your face. “I’m obsessed with you.”
“Seonghwa…” you sighed out sweetly. You suddenly gasped when he changed his angle slightly, his cock rubbing right against your G-spot. “Oh, right there!”
So, Seonghwa thrust faster into the same spot over and over again until you flung your head back and moaned loudly, your nails leaving crescents in the skin on his shoulders. Feeling your walls flutter and spasm around his cock and get tighter as you fully came again drove your boyfriend crazy.
Grabbing your waist, Seonghwa went upright and rammed his waist into yours repeatedly. He also kept pulling you towards him, making the impact all the more stronger and faster. You watched through bleary eyes as he bit his lower lip, his shaggy hair blocking his eyes again; but, when he flung his head back, you got to see his eyes flutter and roll to the back of his head, making butterflies rampage in your stomach.
Seonghwa pulled out and stroked his cock a couple more times before strings of white shot out and decorated your breasts and stomach, his cock twitching as more and more left him. When he finished completely, he let out the groan he had been holding back, the sound of his deep voice echoing in your ears.
When he finished, he leaned back to observe his work. You watched him as his eyes darted around and ran over your entire body, only for your own eyes to trail downwards from his face to his developing chest to his abs to his cock. You saw his cock twitch and start to firm up again the longer Seonghwa stared at your body, and the twitching only got more intense when he reached for your breasts and started kneading them like a cat making biscuits.
Seeing his cock rise back up like that honestly made you want more. You held his cock gently and pumped it a couple of times before holding it at your entrance before locking eyes with him.
“You said we could spend the whole day in bed, so let’s do it.”
“You’re so… God… I’m so attracted to you,”Seonghwa’s shock melted into a smile before he bent down to leave a small peck on your lips. “Your wish is my command, baby.”
“But this time, stay inside. Fill me up.”
“Good God, your wish is my fucking command.”
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#atzhouse#cromernet#cultofdionysusnet#ksmutsociety#newworldnet#wonderlandnet#seonghwa x reader#ateez#ateez smut#park seonghwa#seonghwa smut#broatz#park seonghwa smut#ateez seonghwa#seonghwa ateez
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The crazy part about AMC’s Daniel Molloy and Devil’s Minion is they can do just about anything with it. They’ve turned Daniel’s character from someone referred to as “The Boy” in IWTV to a fully fleshed out character. They did this with Louis, who many didn’t care for until AMC’s IWTV. They transformed Louis into one of the greatest characters on TV!
So Daniel Molloy isn’t a “boy” anymore per se, he’s lived a long life in between the first and second interviews. He’s had two marriages, kids, written several books, and seen so much success in his career. So what does this mean for Devil’s Minion?
Anne Rice all but wrote Daniel out of TVC after Queen of the Damned. Armand’s first and only fledgling just… gone. But Daniel is so essential to AMC’s IWTV now. I think most viewers would be sad if we didn’t see much of Daniel after Louis’ current story wraps up.
So from what we know about AMC’s Daniel, I’m hoping this changes the “after” drastically. Daniel doesn’t take well to being turned and is taken away to be cared for by Marius. Could you see our Daniel doing that? He’s gone through every bullshit life can throw at you at this point. Two divorces, kids that don’t talk to him, drug abuse, etc. I don’t think he’s that boy Anne Rice wrote about, at least not anymore. Maybe he was in 1970s San Francisco, but that’s not him anymore!
Old Man Daniel deserves better than to be stuck with Marius and frankly, so does Armand. I’m not saying the companionship has to be a perfect, happy ending but I’d like to see it more than what Anne ended up writing. And I gotta say, I do trust the team at AMC’s IWTV to do something great.
#iwtv#interview with the vampire#daniel molloy#armand#devil’s minion#love old man Daniel so much#Let him interview Lestat!!
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bite me- matt sturniolo
part one
summary- matt has always hated your guts, but everything changes when he wakes up and finds out your his mate.
contains- vampire!matt x reader, enemies to lovers, smut (not in this part), themes of death, dark themes, high school au! (18 yrs old)
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your pov.
“and y/n l/n, your assigned seat is next to matthew sturniolo.” my new math teacher says with finality as his eyes sweep the room. “matthew, please raise your hand” he continues clearly acknowledging the fact that he doesn’t know any student by name yet.
while the teacher was making a rendezvous trying to figure out where matt was sitting, my eyes were bulging out of my head and matts usual stoic face turned into a scowl. we lock eyes and they harden at the sight of each other. matt scoffs before shifting his eyes to the teacher, and I already know he's going to protest before he says a word.
“teach, i know you don’t know me, but my birthdays tommorrow, and i don’t really do y/n." he says while rudely gesturing to my figure, "sooo, you gotta switch the seating chart up.” matt pierces me with his gaze before offering the teacher a very fake smile. mr. dunn, the name I assume is his considering that its written on the whiteboard, just looks back at him clearly unimpressed with his negotiation skills. matt takes the hint and tries again. “for everyone else’s sake?” he questions and gestures to the rest of students in the room. everyone bobs their heads up and down in silent agreement.
its no secret that me and matthew don’t get along. ever since freshman year, we’ve had a strange animosity towards each other. matt carries himself like he’s better than everyone else. he does it even now, trying to negotiate with the teacher like he makes the rules. i can’t help but agree with him, though. if we end up sitting next to each other it will be a huge distraction. matt and i have been escorted out of classrooms for starting screaming matches before.
“your all gonna have to deal with it. this is not my problem” mr. dunn says completely blowing everyone off. I drag my feet over to matt, sighing as i let the year ahead of us sink in. “way to go tiger, maybe if you had asked instead of demanded in the first place, he might of listened.” I say as I plop down into my seat.
“okay well, at least i said something. didn’t hear you talkin” he replies smugly and folds his arms over his chest. Even though he’s acting like a child, i have to stop myself from openly gawking at his arm
damn, tattoos are definitely my thing.
“the fuck you looking at.” he snaps.
tattoos are definitely NOT my thing.
i roll my eyes. “nothing, mop” i smirk as soon as i say it because i know how much he hates that stupid nickname.
“stop calling me that!” matt says a little too loudly causing the teacher to spin around from the white board and glare in his direction. matt quickly shuts his mouth and starts to play with the strings of his hoodie in shame. i can’t stop the laugh that ripples through my chest at matts’ pussy reaction. mr. dunn swings his glare to me, but ,unlike matt, i don’t care.
i’ll just switch out this class, simple.
i make up my mind then and there. i'm not dealing with matt AND a shitty teacher.
“anywayss” mr. dunn drones on turning back to the white board still annoyed by the disruption. i look back over at matt to make fun of him, only to see his eyes shut tight and his whole body tensed up. i can see the lean muscles in his forearms bulging from the strain.
“um what are you doing??” i question more than a little confused. he snaps out of it and slowly opens his eyes. “mind your business” he mutters.
this is going to be a longgg year.
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matts pov.
“chris im telling you, i almost lost it in there.” i say panicked as i pace around my room. we’ve been out of school for about 8 hours and i’m still stressed about it. about almost losing control and killing everyone in the classroom today.
chris gets up and grabs my shoulders.
“bro its okay. it happens, give yourself a break. not very many vampires control themselves the way you do. when they get angry, they just snap.” chris says more casually then anyone else would on the subject, like its a normal thing. but both him and i know that nothing about what we are is normal.
i take a deep breath, my eyes straining from the stress of it all. “i just don’t know why i let her get under my skin like that, you know. i shouldn’t ever feel like i'm about to “snap”", I say frustration seeping through my tone. i continue to take quick steps around the room, paying unnecessarily close attention to each step.
if she had any idea what i was, she’d never bother me again, a dark voice in my mind breaks through, much to my annoyance.
its true, us vampires are monsters through and through. even ones like me, chris, and nick who try our best to be good. we may act and look the part, but our desires are always evil. we will always be evil.
“sooo, are you excited to find out who your mate is, or what?” chris' voice cuts through the quiet that settled in the room, making my thoughts reel in a different direction.
turning day. the day in which a vampire is born. once a vampire has hit 10 yrs since their turning day, their mates are revealed to them. its like a bomb goes off in their head and suddenly they feel completely connected to someone else. like their souls are one, or so I've heard.
“snap out of it matt! stop spacing out and shit, its getting really annoying” chris says clearly agitated i didn’t answer his question from earlier.
“sorry” i answer sitting next to him on my bed. after that theres a brief silence, me and chris left alone with our own thoughts.
“Are you excited though?” chris ask quietly, clearly conflicted himself. i’m not the only one getting a mate, after all, chris and nick turned the same day i did.
you were born on the same day and you died on the same day. what a coincidence, my dark inner voice practically chuckled at the revelation. I shudder from the thought of it.
i take a deep breath and close my eyes as i feel the stress returning.
“i just hope shes not human.” I whisper, almost more to myself then to chris.
“yeah, me too.” chris agrees and i hum in response. its late at night, me and chris have been hanging out and nicks nowhere to be found.
“where’s nick?” i ask. chris gets up and stretches. “i have no idea bro.” he yawns. “ but i gotta go to bed, im tired as shit. tell eachother about our mates in the morning?” chris ask, turning to me before actually leaving my room.
“yeah sure” I replied, even though we both know neither of us are going to want to talk about it.
we are going to want to find them and claim them as ours.
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my alarm clock goes off. I threw the covers off my body, hot all of a sudden. vampires dont get hot. i roll my eyes. it must be the stupid mating bond thing, then.
i shut my eyes, knowing that the first person i see is going to be my mate for life.
please let her be pretty and please let her not be human.
one, two, three seconds go by, but still nothing. Then, her face pops up in my mind.
“FUCK” i scream.
at least she’s pretty
a worried chris runs into my room. “what? what's wrong, matt?” he shakes my shoulders trying to get an answer. i look up at him slowly.
“its y/n” i whisper.
@bbernard-03
@mattslolita
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo smut
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A Former Hero
Blind DILF Midoriya Izuku x Fem Reader
Context: Izuku is just trying to get his groceries when he runs into you.
WARNING: Blind Izuku, blind jokes
Note: This WILL NOT be having a part 2. I wrote this 2 years ago and only remembered about it now. So my writing style is pretty old here.
The soft tap of the white and red striped cane was something that he had gotten used to, as the man tried to make his way from the entrance of the store he knew well, to the customer help desk, mostly based off of memory. He always disliked how far away it was from the entrance, but he never had trouble with the distance before he went blind, so he wasn’t sure whether he was allowed to complain or not.
All he had to do was get there, grab the bag and get out. Like clockwork.
The man perked up but didn’t stop. The sound of heavy footsteps were closing in on him. There was someone running in front of him. Years of training and experience in being a hero making his senses extra sensitive.
A group of older kids, maybe 11 to 13, laughing and giggling amongst themselves moved in a line together in the same isle of the man in front of them. Not noticing him, or more specifically his lack of sight, one of them bumped into him, nearly knocking him over. Before he could use his reflexes two hands held him up right unexpectedly.
“Hey!” You stood holding onto the rather large man as you glared over at the kids behind him. “You bumped into him. The least you could do is apologize if you bump into someone!” You shouted at them.
One of them rolled their eyes at you, while another sighed. The one that actually bumped him, rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry about that.” She apologized with a shallow bow before turning back to her friends. “Come on, lets just go.” She told them. You ignored their little snide remarks about you and returned your attention to the man you were stopping from getting to his destination.
You shook your head with a tsk. “One day, I’m going to punch someone else’s child.” You said more to yourself than to anyone else.
You heard a chuckle resonate from your right catching you off guard. It was such a deep chuckle it took you by surprise. “I promise not to tell a soul if you do.” He said straightening up to his full height. “If you get caught though, I promise to be your alibi. I didn’t see a thing.” The man in front of you was tall, really tall, much taller than you and had a broad build that showed he worked out. He had a black cap over his head, concealing any sort of hair with dark sunglasses covering his eyes. His face was speckled in freckles, with four main ones that were extremely prominent on both cheeks. He gave you a small smile.
After a moment, you let out a snort at his satire. You let out a laugh making his smile broaden. You waved a finger at him. “Ah. I see what you did there.”
“I didn’t.”
“Well-” You stopped yourself mid-sentence. He did it again, this time his smile turned into a grin exposing sharp canines. You glared at him. “You’re not funny.” You said, even though you were smiling.
“I’d like to think I am.” He told himself. “And either way, I can hear your smile, so totally worth it.” You chuckled at the strange man in front of you, even though dressed in rather dark clothing, he seemed like a bright person in reality. “Thank you, by the way.” His smile slowly dropping from his face. He motioned behind him. “For that.”
“Oh, that was nothing.” You promised him. “It was the right thing to do. Someone’s gotta say something.” You told him truthfully. “Actually, can I help you with anything?” You asked him, trying your best to sound as respectful as possible as to not offend him. You had your fair share of people swatting you at the back of the head for ‘assuming’ them helpless. “I don’t have anything to do right now actually, and I’m done stacking the cans of beans anyways.” You said motioning to where you were seated on a crate. You quickly dropped your hands once you, again, realized who you were talking to. Heat rushing to your face as you internally cursed at yourself.
So, you were a worker? Probably new since you didn’t know he was a regular here. He hummed in thought. It would surely make this whole processes easier and faster for him to get back home. He nodded his head. “Sure, that would be great actually.”
“Alright. I…” You stood next to him facing forward. “I’m going to take your arm, is that alright?” You asked hesitantly.
He smiled at the fact you were warning him and asking for his consent first. “Yes.” He let out with an underlying laugh. “That’s alright.”
You carefully wrapped your arm around his, hooking yours with his. His arm was thick and muscled underneath his black hoodie. You wondered what he did for a living. Once you had adjusted to the size of his body next to yours, you led him forward. “Forward please. I’ll make sure you won’t hit anything, promise.” You told him.
“Well, I can only trust you.” He expressed.
Surprisingly you led him really well. Down the aisle together, you sparking bits of simple conversation like about the weather, and then you realizing he couldn’t see the weather and then you profusely apologizing that you couldn’t watch what you were saying and him laughing. He shook his head, telling you that it was fine and he enjoyed the warm weather outside. Finding it refreshing.
Then you were at the customer help desk, one of your follow employees standing at the waiting. An older woman with greying hair who had been working there for years. For the short time that you had been employed, she never hesitated to guide you and help you at your new job. The older lady perked up in surprise, upon seeing you walk with someone she knew as a regular. “Mr Midoriya.” She greeted with a bow. Your eyebrows raised. So, that was his name. “How are you today?” She asked him as she bent down to get something from under the counter.
He smiled. “I’m fine, thank you. Are you alright, Mrs Fujita? How are the triplets?” He asked.
She gave a pulled-out sigh. “You know children, Mr Midoriya. Always wanting to do and have everything.”
Midoriya hummed in agreement, knowingly. “Yes, I always have to ask you for extra sweets because Honoka keeps eating all of mine.” He states amusingly, making Mrs Fujita laugh. Mrs Fujita placed one of their weekly food bags on the table. It was supposed to be in a box but was placed in a pretty picnic bag instead. “Although I think her mom is starting to notice the sugar highs she has when she leaves my place.”
You looked between him and Mrs Fujita listening on their conversation. He was a father? You looked at his hands still holding his white cane. His left hand was bare of any sort of ring. Single father?
Mrs Fujita laughed. She then noticed your inquisitive look. “I see you’ve met our newest worker, Y/N.”
“Y/N?” He asked. You hummed squeezing his arm once to indicate to him that you were still there. He turned his head slightly towards your direction. “Hm.” He turned back to face forward. “Well, at least now I have a name to a voice.”
“Come to think of it, Mr Midoriya…” Mrs Fujita started as she placed her hands on her hips. It was a stern motherly look that she often gave you or the others whenever you were misbehaving. Midoriya could hear the tone of her voice and he instantly knew he was in trouble. “Where is that beautiful guide dog of yours?”
He raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, almost like a scolded child. You giggled quietly at the image of a man more than double your size look embarrassed. “She’s… at home.”
“Mr Midoriya.”
“I just wanted to go out by myself. She was napping and I didn’t want to disturb her. I was doing so well too.” He pointed it out like it was a victory.
Mrs Fujita looked at him with a blunt look. She motioned to you. “Then why is Y/N leading you by the arm?” She asked him.
Midoriya hesitated. “Okay but that wasn’t me, some kid just bumped into me.”
Mrs Fujita looked to you as confirmation. You nodded your head. She dropped her shoulders. “As long as I’m not picking up your ass in aisle three again because you tripped over a can of beans, then that’s fine with me.” She shrugged. She pushed the bag with effort across the counter towards him, handles already up for him to grab. “You know, we can always have these delivered to you Mr Midoriya. It would be easier on you.” She said.
“Yah…” He picked up the bag effortlessly with one hand. “But then I don’t get to hear your voice every week and that would be a shame. Who else would I talk to?” He asked. He motioned with his head that the two of you could start heading towards the exit of the store.
“You have friends, Mr Midoriya.”
Midoriya let out a hum almost affirming but not really listening to what she was saying. You turned him around walking away from the counter. “I won’t be seeing you next week, Mrs Fujita.” He spoke loudly.
“How come?” She asked
“Because I doubt my lack of sight would have changed by then!” He shouted back to her. You stifled a giggle at his satire. He felt the little giggle you were trying to hide and smiled. “She’ll lecture me about my jokes, next week.” He stated.
You let out an audible laugh. “I don’t doubt that.” You safely led him out of the store and out into the afternoon sun. “Did you walk?” You asked him.
He shook his head. “Not today.” He turned to look in the right direction. He temporarily let go of you and pulled out car keys from his hoodie pocket. He pressed a button and a car roared to life close by. “There.” He pointed in the direction of the car.
Your eyes widened as the two of you approached the car. It was rather luxurious to say the least. Not very eye catching but you could tell by the hum of the car and the modal that it wasn’t something you would walk upon everyday, but in great disguise from other flashy cars. “You drove your car here?” You asked speechless.
He laughed. “My car drove me here.” He corrected you. You left him by the passenger seat door.
“Here let me help you.” You tell him placing your hands by the basket handles.
“Alright, but it might be a bit heavy for you.” He warned you.
“I’m sure I’ll be- HOLY SHIT.” The bag nearly hit the ground before you using all your might to hold it.
Midoriya laughed at your shock. “I warned you.” He bent down and tried taking the bag from your hands only to discover you had already started your waddle to the trunk of his car.
You grunted as you tried your best not to fall over. “I’ve… I’ve got it.” You managed to let out strained as you put the bag in his car. “Jeez, this things heavy. What do you have in here? Dumbbells?” You asked.
“Dog food, protein powder, potatoes and wine.” He stated. He perked up. “Oh, and tea.”
You glared at him but managed to put the bag in the back. You closed the trunk and the car made a sound. Midoriya smiled and entered the passenger seat of his car, rolling down the windows. “Start Engine.” He spoke as he put on his seatbelt.
The engine roared to life at his command. You walked over to stand by the window of his car. You watched in fascination as the dashboard which was more like one long screen sprung to life. A small smiley face appeared in the centre. “Afternoon, where would you like to go?” The female AI voice spoke.
“Home please, Glitch.” He stated. Midoriya turned to the side where you stood. He raised a dark eyebrow. “Y/N?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks for the help. I appreciate it.” He bowed his head.
You smiled broadly. “It’s no problem, Mr Midoriya.” You bowed at the waist. “Have a nice day.” You said as you walked away.
He smiled at your kindness. “You too.” Midoriya pressed a button to close his tinted window.
Just then the smiley face turned into a green tick. “Destination set for home.” The AI spoke out. “Will arrive at destination in around five minutes.” A green route displayed on the screen for a moment, as the car started to reverse. Midoriya took off his cap and sunglasses. His eyes closed as he relaxed against the cushioned leather seat. He rolled his shoulders. Instantly the effort of having to go about his day weighed on him like a suffocating hanging cloud of smoke. He was one of the strongest men in the world and yet he felt as though he couldn’t bare the weight of anything anymore.
-Glitch1d
#izuku x reader#izuku midoriya x reader#mha x y/n#deku x reader#midoriya x reader#dilf midoriya#dilf izuku midoriya x reader#dilf izuku midoriya#dilf izuku x reader#dilf deku#midoriya izuku x reader smut#izuku x y/n#izuku x you
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End Game 2
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: we're here to boo Andrew.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
“So, you’re coming?” Jacob’s voice quavers with excitement. You can’t imagine how he’d sound if you said no. You hate letting people down, it seems to be all you've ever done.
“Uh, yeah,” you say as you steer around the track; opting for some MarioKart over Minecraft that night, “boss says it’s no problem to get the days off. Just have to make it up after. Is... Is everything still good on your end?”
“Oh yeah, sure thing,” he assures buoyantly, “I can’t wait. Did you still wanna split the airBnB?”
“Actually, I got a place to stay for the night then I’ll take the early bus back,” you explain as Princess Peach knocks you off the track, “argh!”
“Right, that’s good,” he says, “good to know you won’t be stranded out there.”
“Mhm,” you use your boost to catch up to Peach and get your revenge. You don’t mention that Kara will be with you at the con. You just want to be sure this isn’t something wonky. “It’ll be nice to get out of town. My grandma will probably be happy to have the place to herself.”
“Yeah,” he scoffs, “what’s her problem anyway?”
“Just the way she is. She likes her space,” you shrug, “I don’t know, I don’t think she expected to be raising her granddaughter...”
“Ah, yeah, I guess that would be stressful,” he says, “still, seems like you’re not too bad to be around. Got a job, go to school, all that. Think my dad would love it if I put in half as much effort.”
“Yeah? You make him sound like a hard ass.”
“Can be. Lawyer, so kinda his schtick,” he chuckles.
“Oo, fancy,” you snort. Maybe if either of your parents had been lawyers, you wouldn’t be living off your grandma’s resent.
“I guess. Never really see him that much...” he grumbles.
“Hm, well, no winning, is there?” You mutter.
“Not really,” he sighs and hisses, “ugh, Toad!”
You chuckle and cross the finish line. A respectable second. You wait for him to finish and stifle a yawn.
“Tired?” He asks.
“Little.”
“Me too, long day,” he groans, “neck’s killing me.”
“Oh, what’d you do--”
“You know, I’m-- an idiot. Was messing around on my bike.”
“Of course,” you snicker, “well, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna sign off. I don’t wanna keep my grandma up and my head’s starting to go.”
“Sure, I gotta get up early anyway,” he sounds less than enthused. “Good night.”
“You too.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Can’t, work. Day after?”
“Okay, I’ll make it work,” he confirms, “I’m excited about meeting up. Aren’t you?”
“Yep,” you try not to show your doubt. You’re still not really sure about everything.
“Can’t wait,” he rasps and the silt in his tone makes you shiver.
“Yeah, er, bye then,” you hit end session and take off your headset, your ears tender and a bit sweaty. Even if it is awkward, at least you’ll get to hang with Kara for a bit. You haven’t seen her since grad.
🎮
You’re already exhausted and you’re not even inside yet. The line for the convention is bustling and your excitement keeps you going as you and Kara gab away and move with the slow crawl. The sun beams down and has you sweating, though you could easily blame that on your nerves too.
“So, this Jacob... is he cute?” She winks.
“Kara,” you roll your eyes, “it’s not like that. Really. We just game.”
“Oh yeah. But do you want it to be more?” She teases.
“You know I’m not really into all that. I don’t have room for a boyfriend in my life.”
“So boring. Never change, girlie,” she nudges you playfully. “But really, that’s smart. Calvin is too much. I’m thinking of cutting him loose.”
“Again?” You squint.
“Not my fault he keeps coming back,” she giggles.
You peer around, searching out a familiar face amid the ocean of strangers. You haven’t seen Jacob yet. You’re almost hoping he doesn’t show up. Then again, why wouldn’t he? He paid for you to be here. The reminder of the fact strikes guilt in your chest.
You pause as your eyes catch another pair, further back in the queue. An older man with a beard. He stands out among the crowd. He wears a tidy button-up where most wear graphic tees or cosplay attire. He stares for a moment before he turns away and looks down, probably at whatever kid dragged him there.
“Well, what are you going to do if he sees you and falls in love?” Kara asks.
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes.
“If he’s a nerd like you, how could he not?”
“Hey,” you frown.
“What? You’re like the sexy gamer girl type. Isn’t that what dudes want?” She shrugs. “Let me see his pic again. He’s a skinny little thing. He’d definitely be into you.”
“Urgh, stop,” you cross your arms.
“Sorry, I’m only playing. You just seem so nervous, I’m trying to loosen you up.”
“I know,” you puff, “it’s just... I should’ve just said no. This is stupid. I don’t know why I even agreed.”
“To get out of that shithole,” she snips. “Why do you think I hauled ass the minute I popped by grad cap on?”
“Mm, yeah, I just hope... do you think he really wants that? Maybe I gave him the wrong idea. Oh, Kar, I really didn’t mean to lead him on.”
“No, no, I’m sure it’s nothing you did if he does. I mean, he’s probably a virgin so...”
“That’s mean,” you pout.
“What, so are you,” she laughs.
“Exactly,” you shake your head and drop your arms, a buzz jittering your skirt pocket.
You look down at yourself as you slide your phone free. That was probably a bold choice but it’s so damn hot out. Besides, your Pikachu tee is loose enough to counteract the denim sheath. You turn the screen up, shading it with your hand as you read.
‘Sorry, not going to make it. Something came up. 🙁'
You frown and reread the message. Really? You came all the way here, took time off of work, and he’s flaking?
“What’s up?” Kara asks as she clicks her manicured nails impatiently and stands on her toes, trying to see past the bodies ahead.
“He just cancelled,” you mutter and type in your reply.
‘Oh no. Hope it’s nothing bad. Maybe another time.’
You hit send and drop your shoulders. You’re surprised how disappointed you are. More so about the wasted effort than anything. Even if you are a bit relieved, it’s shitty.
“Ah, bullshit!” Kara sneers, “what the hell? What did he say?” She reaches for your phone and you hold it out of her grasp. “That fucker.”
“It’s probably not his fault. Shit happens.”
“Babe, you’re gonna settle for a lot of nonsense if you keep that attitude. I’d be friggin pissed if I was you. He brings you all the way here and now he’s too good for you. I bet he saw some cute girl in line and she smiled at him once so now he’s ditching,” she scowls, “I hate boys.”
“I’m sure... it’s nothing,” you say glumly as your phone vibes again.
‘I’m real sorry. I hope you still have a good time. Take lots of pictures.’
You don’t respond. You lock your phone and put it back in your pocket. It never feels good to be stood up. Even then.
“You know what, screw him,” Kara snarls, “let’s go in there and buy you the cutest plushie you can find. Hell, maybe you can find an even cuter guy.”
“Kar,” you warn her.
“Fine, just the plushie. Maybe two,” she trills, “forget that loser.”
🎮
The chaos of the convention wipes away the dark cloud over you. You’re almost thankful that Jacob gave you the opportunity to catch up with Kara. You didn’t realise how much you missed her. It’s perfect day where you can forget about your grandmother and your lame job and everything else.
You rush around from booth to booth. You look at fanart, handmade figures, and stuffies. You’re mindful of your wallet and how empty it really is. You’ll get one thing and a snack. That’s all you can afford.
As the hours roll by, your early morning bus ride and time spent standing out in the hot sun catch up to you. You feel your muscles starting to ache and your eyelids turning fuzzy. You yawn as you shuffle behind Kara as she waits in line to get a signature from the one D-list celeb she’s heard of. You’d get one too but it’s way too expensive.
“Hey,” you rub your cheek, “mind if I sit and wait? I wanna grab a soft pretzel anyway.”
“Sure,” she agrees easily, “looks like it’s gonna be a while.”
“Want me to bring you a drink or something?” You offer.
“Nah, just text me where you are so I can find you,” she says.
You leave her reluctantly. You’d rather not be wandering alone through the hordes but your feet are killing you and your stomach’s been roaring for the last hour. You stand in line for the pretzel stall and get yours with cinnamon sugar and syrup. Messy but delicious.
You find a table in the corner and settle in. You put your phone beside the napkin and tear apart the doughy goodness. Your phone lights up with a notification from the merge game you like to play and you see several other icons; missed messages.
You focus on your snack, savouring each bite, as your eyes drift around the crowded centre. You can barely see some of the booths as hordes cluster around. Some cosplayers bat at each other with toy swords as children fight over the arcade machines. You’re overwhelmed by the sheer amount of activity all around.
You put your head down trying to block out the lights and noise. You feel yourself getting overstimulated. It’s like when you’re in the lecture hall and suddenly you can hear every sniff, sneeze, and keystroke. You close your eyes as you wipe your fingertips on the edge of the napkin, only half-finished your pretzel.
“Looks good,” a deep voice cuts through the blaring din.
As you recognise the timbre, your heart squeezes and the world pinpoints at the centre of your skull. You open your eyes and slowly raise your head. You blink dumbly at the unfamiliar man stood in front of you. You think you’ve seen him before, or at least he sticks out from the typical convention attendee.
It isn’t that he’s too old, there’s lots of older geeks hanging around but they have neckbeards and greasy combovers. His hair is tidy and his beard trimmed close. His clothing also lacks the typical Dorito dust or anime character. You remember, he was outside in the line.
“Uh, hello?” You utter.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says as he pulls out the chair across from you. He sits as your insides plunge. You know his voice.
“Jacob?” You murmur in shock. How? Why? This isn’t the stringy teenager you met online.
He nods, his jaw tensing, and he crosses an arm over the table, pointing to your half-eaten pretzel, “what’d you get on yours? I can’t decide between sweet or savoury.”
“Who... are you?” You croak, head spinning as your eyes prick. You knew something was weird. You knew you weren’t talking to Jacob or whoever that boy was in the pictures.
He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. As his chest deflates, you do too. He’s older than you, bigger than you, and by the looks of him, a lot better off. Why the hell would he be chatting with you? Why would he lie to you?
“You’re right. I’m not Jacob,” he confesses, the colour draining from his face. He steeples his fingers and considers his next words carefully. You sit back and hug yourself defensively. This is fucked. “My name is Andy, Jacob is my son.”
“Your son?” You eke out, “why-- why would you lie?”
He cringes and takes another breath, “he was my son,” he corrects himself, “he... passed.”
You feel like you’ve been struck. Your mouth falls open, stunned. Not only did he hide behind his son’s photos, but his dead son’s. Oh, god. You feel sick. No, you feel stupid.
“Look, please, just hear me out. I just—it wasn’t meant to go on this long. When I first lied to you, it was supposed to be that one time. I was... I was lost. I just lost Jacob and I was going through his things. I started playing because I missed him. I wanted to feel like he was still there--”
“No, no, you got on discord and you started talking to me. As him!” Your voice shakes and your eyes tinge. “That’s not just missing him.”
“I know, you’re right. I lied but... I got lonely playing by myself so yes, I went onto that discord. You were nice. You didn’t call me a noob or whatever. And... and after work, looking forward to hearing your voice, it got me through a lot of pain. Being alone in that house after so long, I couldn’t cope--”
“So you lied to me?” You stand and snatch your phone, nauseous to the core, “you manipulated me. How do you know—if you had just been you that I would’ve been any different? If you just wanted to play games, to be friends--”
“I was scared--”
“I don’t care if you were scared,” you hiss as you stomp forward. “You’re an adult.”
He stands and blocks your path. You recoil, put off by his height. He’s a lot bigger on his feet.
“Please, move or... I’ll scream,” you breathe.
“You don’t have to do that. Just hear me out,” he pleads.
“I don’t want to hear anything else from you, Jacob. Or Andy. Or whoever you really are,” you sneer, “move.”
He shudders and hangs his head. He makes himself seem small as his shoulders round and he backs out of your way. You bite down and march past him.
You need to get to a bathroom. Now. You’re going to spew up your guts. More important, you need to get yourself together before you go find Kara. She can’t know this happened. It’s too embarrassing.
#andy barber#dark andy barber#dark!andy barber#andy barber x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#defending jacob#end game
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husk x reader. requested by @jazziesanura. husk might be part feline, but his bird-like traits affect him too. so when the object of his affection is around, ever so occasionally, he finds himself singing.
featuring: 1.2k of pure fluff and a bashful husk being a gentleman.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
There were countless reasons you liked to linger in the lobby rather than up in your room, despite the chance of being enlisted in any number of tasks by the owner of the Hazbin Hotel. You’d hung more celebratory banners than you cared to count, but still, you often spent your time curled up on one of the lobby sofas with a book or one of Charlie’s latest art projects in your lap.
Sometimes the reason you preferred it was the endless entertainment provided by Niffty’s endless war on bugs.
Sometimes it was that Angel would grace you with his presence before work and you’d find yourselves swapping overly salacious stories that would make the spider demon cackle with joy.
Occasionally Pentious would slither downstairs in order to introduce you to his latest complicated creation, and sometimes his little eggs would find themselves in a turf war with Razzle and Dazzle and you’d be in tears trying not to laugh as you separated them.
But – even though you wouldn’t admit it aloud – there really was one real reason you liked to stay in the lobby.
Because every now and then, if you were lucky…
Husk would sing.
When the bar was empty and the other guests and staff were elsewhere, occasionally you’d hear the soft tenor of Husk’s voice ebb out to fill the space between you. He never sang very loud, just a soft crooning to himself as he polished glassware or wiped down the polished wood in front of him. It would just barely reach your ears, but it relaxed you and filled you with the most addictive feeling of butterflies all at the same time.
The strangest thing about it was, whenever you asked those who also spent time alone with him, no one else had ever noticed him sing.
“What song is that?”
You’d broken your own rule about interrupting him, and you cursed yourself silently as Husk stopped mid-lyric, letting out a small ‘wrrr’ of surprise as he looked up. He looked startled, even embarrassed by the question, pale pink blooming across his muzzle.
You grimaced apologetically as you stood up. “Sorry.”
“S’okay,” he replies gruffly, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Still, you notice his tail twitch almost warily behind him.
“It’s nice,” you continue gently. When his brows furrow you explain, “The song. It’s pretty.”
“Oh.” Husk clears his throat, setting the glass he was holding down on the counter. “You, uh… you want a drink?”
“Sure.”
***
Your smile is softened by the alcohol buzzing in your brain, and you lean your temple on your hand. Husk’s own lips are tilted in a similar smile as he pours the two of you fresh glasses of something he calls a ‘rusty nail’. It burns pleasantly down your throat and against your lips, and Husk hums approvingly as you toss back half the glass.
“Gotta say, sweetness, I never figured you’d be able to handle the booze as well as you do.” he notes, pouring the dregs from the shaker into your glass. “’s impressive.”
“’s not all I can handle,” you reply without thinking, and your face burns.
Husk blinks at you, eyes wide, for a moment before he coughs a laugh, shaking his head. His voice lowers and softens when he speaks next, and it send the warmth from your cheeks down to pool in your stomach. “I don’t doubt it.”
He holds your gaze for a long moment, an amused tilt to his lips, before you glance away again to take another sip of your drink. You clear your throat, trying to find a way to change the subject. You couldn’t let yourself focus on the way his expression, his tone of voice, was making you feel.
“So, uh… you gonna tell me what that song was?”
Husk glances down at the bar, rubbing a paw through the fur of his neck. “’s nothing. Just an old… ‘s nothing.”
“I liked it,” you tell him gently, your glass held just below your lips. “I always like it when you sing.”
Husk grimaces bashfully. “You hear that?”
You nod, still smiling. Maybe it’s the alcohol that loosens your tongue, maybe it’s the way that even though his tone is embarrassed, his eyes are watching your every reaction so carefully. Maybe it’s just being with him but you simply admit: “It’s my favorite thing.”
Hush flushes, dithering uncertainly for a moment before he meets your eye again. He studies your face, your expression, and your sincerity before he throws back the rest of his drink and sets the glass back on the counter. Husk rounds the bar and with a moment of hesitation, holds out a paw to you.
“C’mon.”
You raise a brow but take it, letting him pull you gently off the bar stool and lead you towards the middle of the lobby. He turns to face you, your hand still enclosed in his. His other hand comes up to hover near your waist and those butterflies swirl inside you again dizzyingly.
“…Can I?”
You nod slowly, confused, and a thrill runs through you as he touches your hip. His hand smooths over it to let his claws curl carefully against the sliver of skin between your shirt and the waistband of your jeans, and you release a shaking breath. He gives you a small, bashful smile, stepping closer to you, and his smile widens slightly despite himself when your breath catches.
“Relax,” he tells you softly, and when your free hand comes up to rest on his shoulder, he leads you into a slow, surprisingly graceful movement that’s something akin to a waltz.
His body is warm against yours and your fingers curl in the soft fur on his bicep, threading carefully through the silky hair. He hums a quiet tune for a few moments, leading you along with it, and you find yourself settling into his embrace as he begins to sing.
“I ran around with my own little crowd,
The usual laughs, not often but loud.
And in the world that I knew,
I didn’t know about you.”
His voice is honeyed and warm in your ear, his touch tingling against your back and against your palm. You wet your lips with the tip of your tongue, feeling as though you’ve been dipped directly into the melted caramel of his sweet tenor.
“Chasing after the rain
On the merry-go-round.
Just taking my fun
Where it could be found.
And yet what else could I do?
I didn’t know about you.”
You hesitate for a moment before releasing his hand to wrap your arms around his neck, letting your fingers twine in the fur at the back of his head. Husk’s hands take hold of your hips, sliding around to interlock against the small of your back. You hear him swallow, his voice shaking slightly as he begins the next verse.
“Darling, now I know,
I had the loneliest yesterday,
Everyday in your arms
I know for once in my life I’m living.
Had a good time every time I went out,
Romance was a thing I kidded about.
How could I know about love?
I didn’t know about you.”
Husk pulls back slightly, meeting your gaze with hooded eyes. The two of you are just swaying now, locked together in an embrace you never want to end. There’s an almost rueful curve to his lips.
“I didn’t know about you.”
.
Author's note: for those interested, the song is I Didn't Know About You by Duke Ellington. If you would like to hear a masculine voice singing it (although sadly not Husk's), I'd personally recommend Seth MacFarlane's version. It's absolutely beautiful.
#husk#husk x reader#hazbin husk#hazbin hotel husk#husk posting#hazbin husk x reader#husk fluff#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#my fic#husk fic
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Seraphic
Summary: You are Arthur's angel.
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader
Word count: 2,222
Tags: smut, high honor Arthur
Warnings: 18+ MDNI
a/n: Whew 😅 I'm a little nervous to post this one. 🫣 Been sitting on it for a while (no pun intended) I've read and reread it a million times, and I'm ready to share. Also, we're pretending like Arthur's tent actually closes. Anyway thanks for reading!
Seraphic: something angelic or celestial in nature, often suggesting purity, beauty, or holiness.
By 1 a.m., the sounds of camp had reduced to the songs of crickets and the crackle of the fire. While everybody else slept, you waited up for Arthur, reading a book under lantern light in his tent. He arrived eventually, keeping his greeting short and joining you on his cot with slouched shoulders, seemingly exhausted. When he took his hat off, the grimace on his face became all the more apparent. His expression and tense body language told you all you needed to know; whatever happened out there wasn't good.
You handed him a match and a cigarette from his nightstand, and he thanked you with a nod. Using the heel of his boot, he struck the match and lit the cigarette, holding it with his thumb and index fingers. Flickering lantern light and the burning ember tip illuminated his bruised knuckles.
"Should I ask?" You traced a gentle finger over the bruises, and he shook his head.
"Best not," he replied, exhaling a ribbon of smoke.
"Well, I'm glad you're still in one piece," you said, looking him over. His shirt had seen cleaner, less wrinkled days, and sweat plastered his hair to his forehead. "Well, mostly in one piece."
He let out a gust of air, a failed attempt at a laugh, before pinching the bridge of his nose and groaning.
"Headache?" you asked, and he confirmed. The discomfort came with the life he lived. Loud gunfire, the rush of adrenaline, and focusing on his shots all combined to leave him in pain afterward. You exited the tent momentarily and returned with a bowl of warm water, a cloth, and a bottle of miracle tonic.
"Here—for your head." He took the medicine and snuffed his cigarette. Rejoining him, you sat on the cot and dabbed his face with the wet cloth, wiping away dirt and sweat. A soft kiss on his temple prompted him to lean into you, the tension finally dissipating. You wrapped your arms around his big frame and held him close. Obviously, he was your safe space, but oh—were you his. Eyes shut, he rested his head on your bosom.
Arthur found comfort in his typical role as protector and provider. But in these moments, when roles faded, he could feel the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders—a crushing weight he didn't even realize he was carrying. Being with you like this made him wonder if heaven was real because you were godsent.
To Arthur's dismay, you unraveled yourself from him to tie the tent flap closed, sealing the two of you away in the dark. Walking between his legs, you untied his neckerchief and dusted his soiled shirt.
"—Needs a wash. Your blood or someone else's?" you questioned, fingers undoing the top button.
"Not mine," he answered. Peeling the shirt off and tossing it aside, you studied him for a second time tonight. He'd seemed more relaxed than when he arrived, but his brow stayed brooding. Still positioned with his legs on either side of you, you caressed his face, one of your thumbs stroking the hairless scar on his chin.
"What else can I do?"
"You done enough; I'm fine." He gave your hand on his face a reassuring squeeze.
Leaning forward, you kissed him tenderly. His arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you nearer until your foreheads touched. You spoke low against his mouth, a playful grin forming on yours.
"You gotta stop getting yourself into so much trouble, Arthur Morgan."
Your demand was met with a chuckle, and he replied, "I'll do my best, darlin'." You peppered his lips with loving, tender kisses, making him smile against them and squeeze you tighter in a hug. You would do just about anything to see that man smile at you the way he did, all soft and endearing.
Your kisses subsided, but Arthur's affectionate gaze stayed fixed on you. The slight smile on his face had straightened, his expression mirroring the intensity of the one he wore when he first confessed his love for you.
"Got that look on your face," you told him, and he just blinked slowly, awestruck. Though he often swore he was a man of few words, he could fill volumes with his devotion for you. You loved it when he got like that, entranced and overwhelmed with love.
The way he watched you set a fire within you that warmed the most intimate parts of your being. He was surprised when you let yourself fall heavily into him, trying to get as close as possible. Maybe he was going to say something or make a noise, but he didn't have the time before your mouth was on his again, your tongue pushing through his lips to tangle with his. You only pulled away when you needed to breathe.
Instead of pressing your lips to his once more, you dropped to your knees in front of him. Eyes widening, he tried to bring you back up to your feet, shaking his head, once again astounded by you.
"Sweetheart—"
Still on your knees, you patted his cheek and looked up at him with doe eyes. "Shhh, let me take care of you, Arthur." His hand found yours on his face, and he turned to kiss it, nodding placidly. Both of you managed to keep your volume low as you helped him strip down to his union suit. You began working at the buttons of his neckline, doing more ripping than unbuttoning, shoving the fabric down his shoulders.
As more clothing fell away, you trailed sweet kisses down his abdomen. At the same time, his hands roamed wherever they could. The rough pads of his fingers lightly tracing your skin mirrored a faint electric charge. Despite being a brute of an outlaw, he was overly careful with his hands when it came to you; your body was fine china and deserved to be treated as such. Goosebumps formed in a wake left by his touch.
As you kissed down the trail of hair under his belly button, his rapid breathing hitched, and the bulge between his legs strained against the flannel fabric, begging to be unleashed. You tried to find his eyes as you groped him through the underwear, but his head was tipped back, his mouth agape.
"Look at me." You whispered, and he snapped to attention like a soldier following commands. Eyes locked on his, you unclasped the last button, and his length sprung free, the pink head of his cock primed with anticipation. A teasing laugh crept up within you as you trailed soft kisses from the base of his shaft and left one long lingering peck on the tip. The loud, rhythmic thumping of his heart was music to your ears. Not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, you took his entire length in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, taking him deeper until your nose touched the curly hairs at the base.
Then he couldn't hold it in anymore; a deep, guttural groan escaped him.
Your mouth was the warmest, most intoxicating blanket he'd ever been wrapped in, and he never wanted to leave. He gaped at you, seeing your mouth full of him, his pupils dilated with pure lust. The blunt tip of his cock pressed to the back of your throat, making it constrict around him. His whole body shuddered.
"Look whatchu' do to me, woman," he rattled, tangling his hands in your hair. Despite his eagerness, you withdrew from his aching sex, a string of saliva joining your lips to him. Something reminiscent of a whine exited him when you stepped away, but his open mouth fell shut at the sight of your bloomers slipping down your legs. You kissed him, savoring the salty, bitter taste of his arousal mixed with the tobacco and herbs of his mouth.
"Lay back," you murmured in his ear. Obeying your command once again, he let out a grunt as he felt your weight on top of him. You straddled him, and he held you up, his fingers digging firmly into your sides. Bending at the waist, you kissed longingly, your hips undulating against his. He pulled your nightgown up around your midriff, one of his hands gripping the flesh of your ass while the other one went between your legs. His index finger sank painstakingly into your weeping cunt, then brushed over your clit, making you shiver. He raised himself on his elbows, reaching for the hem of your sleep dress.
"Take this off; let me see you." You raised your arms and let him yank the garment away, leaving you completely exposed on top of him. "Beautiful," he breathed, using the back of his hand to graze your skin. Breathy sighs escaped you as he traced delicate circles around your nipples. His eyes bored into you, absorbing every detail like you were the most captivating thing that ever lived. Hyperfocused on your body, he fondled your breasts before gliding his hands down your torso, ogling, taking all of you in.
Freezing, his stare intensified as you massaged the tip of his cock up and down your glistening slit. Touching his lips to yours, you pushed him into your wet folds. Neither of you could contain the sounds building with you. He split you open, stretching you, making room for him, filling you. You held yourself up with your hands braced on his chest, but you went weak as he bottomed out within you, brushing against that deep, tender spot. You would've fallen if he wasn't there to hold you up, a thought mirroring one he had about you so often.
"I got you," he whispered into your ear. It took every ounce of restraint he had not to snap his hips up into you, the warm embrace of your center clearing his mind and driving him mad all the same. Finally, you started to ride, surging and sinking into him. He was a simple, agnostic man, but being with you like this made him believe in all the theocracy of angels, soulmates, and divine intervention. This was his bliss. This was his heaven, and you were his seraph. He'd go through hell every day if it meant coming home to this—to you. Hypnotized in the rhythm of you, a new thought crossed his mind every time you bounced.
Up.
She's so goddamn beautiful.
Down.
So perfect.
Up.
My girl.
Down.
My girl, my girl, my girl, my girl.
Up.
My angel.
Down.
I love her so much.
Up.
So wet.
Down
So warm.
Up.
So danm tight.
Down.
Shit.
And before you could come back up again, he squeezed his eyes shut, halting your hips with all the strength he could muster, fighting the damn-near irresistible urge to cum inside of you. Sweat had built up on his brow, and his stomach rose and fell quickly with each panting breath. You folded to kiss him, your hard nipples grazing against his chest.
"It's okay," you whispered, patting his face and grinding antagonizingly slow against him. You wanted him—needed him— to come undone for you. With that goal in mind, you picked up the pace and rolled your hips relentlessly, moaning your every thought into his ear.
"You feel so good inside of me."
"I need you."
"I love you."
Your climax was building fast, and you reached to give relief to that sensitive bundle of nerves atop your center. Arthur pushed your hand away swiftly, replacing it with his own. Always a giver, he'd do anything to feel useful while you were treating him like royalty.
While one hand worked your clit, his other gripped the meat of your hip, rocking you in time with his upward thrusts. His head tipped and hit the pillow, and you could feel his thighs tensing and shaking beneath you. Lips parted, he stared up at you. You felt him twitch inside you, and his brow finally relaxed.
That did it for you.
You were wordless as your orgasm ripped through you, your head swirling, and your veins on fire. Arthur's guiding hand on your hip didn't stop, and he fucked you through your climax. Hugging your body close and nuzzling his face into your neck, he growled as he painted your inner core with his own release. You stayed like that, glued to each other as you came down from your highs.
"You're too good for me," he finally said. You clasped a hand into his, kissing the long-forgotten bruises on his knuckles.
"Shut up." You responded, and he didn't say another self-deprecating word. It was the least he could do.
You cleaned up and redressed, nestling into the small, one-man cot. Finally settled for the night, you resorted to your regular bedtime positions: your head on his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you, your legs tangled in one another's.
He rose before you in the morning, perching himself on the cot's edge while you slept behind him. He wrote in his journal, his thumb leaving a smudge on the page:
"For a long time, I believed I could not live a bad life and expect good things to happen to me. Yet somehow, this woman of pure goodness entered my life, and it is clear now that I have been a fool."
#peep the angel number word count#all banners made by be#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#arthur morgan#rdr2 community#rdr2 arthur#rdr2 photography#read dead redemption 2 photography#arthur morgan fic#arthur morgan smut#arthur morgan x female reader#arthur morgan x you#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan fanfiction#wait i used 3 word counters and they all gave different numbers so idk what that's about. grammarly says 2222 though so 🤷🏾♀️#zaefic
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wiping something off their lips (jaehyun ver.) 𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆
members: boynextdoor legal line x gender neutral reader
genre: fluff, friends to lovers, they have a crush on u waaah >_<!!!
wc: 1.6k
a/n: this was supposed to be 600 words... something insane happened in my brain and i churned out 1.6k in an hour. let me know if you liked this <3
ᯓ★
as the #1 messiest eater in boynextdoor, this scenario is most likely to happen to him… have you seen the multiple videos of riwoo wiping food off his lips… also aside from being #1 messiest eater he is also #1 babiest baby boy of boynextdoor.
when you’re both walking along the streets of seoul and spot a vendor selling cream-filled pastries, jaehyun rushes forward to purchase two—one for him, and one for you. he’s so excited that he gobbles down his pastry and makes an entire mess. there’s cream all over his lips, and he looks like one of those happy babies with food smeared all over their mouth (although not to that extent… but almost lmfao)!!! he doesn’t notice the mess he’s made until you grip his chin and tell him to “stay still.” you pull out a wet wipe from your bag and carefully dab at his lips.
with your eyes still trained on his mouth, jaehyun takes this moment to stare at you. he’s always known you were pretty, but something about you being this near him is making him feel utterly lightheaded. your perfume is sweet and comforting, and your fingers on his lips feel so gentle. whether it be your scent or your voice or your presence, he likes everything about you… wait, like?
“all done! you gotta be more careful next time,” you lament, disposing the wipe in a nearby trashcan. “anyway, those creampuffs were the best thing i’ve ever tasted since the tiramisu we ate last month…” at his lack of response, you realize jaehyun’s not walking beside you, and you swivel around to see him standing stock still in the middle of the street. his expression looks like he’s come to some sort of realization. “jaehyun?” you bound over to him and wave your hand in front of his face, and he snaps out of his little daze.
“yeah? no, yeah, sorry, i just… let’s go,” jaehyun starts walking, and you trail after him, confused. what was that about?
“so i actually like like them,” jaehyun announces back at the dorm. “i thought it was normal that i found them cute and everything, because anyone with eyes can see that! i didn’t think that it was deeper than that. but i realized that it wasn’t just about their looks… i just. really enjoy their presence and how i can be myself in front of them, like, really myself you know???” taesan and leehan share a look before shaking their heads in unison. “hey!” jaehyun protests. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“we know,” taesan bemoans. “you talk about them your every waking moment, and whenever you spend time with us, you always talk about how you wish they were here.”
“taesan’s right,” leehan adds. “you look at them like they hung the stars. i think it’s obvious to everyone except you, honestly. and them too, because they think you flirt like that with everyone.”
jaehyun groans in response, messing up his hair in frustration. “so… what am i gonna do? it’s not like they like me back. this is driving me crazy... how am i supposed to act around them now that i know i like them?!” his friends share another look. “don’t do that!”
“calm down, jaehyun.” leehan comfortingly pats his friend on the shoulder. “why don’t you treat them as a friend first while you’re unsure about what to do next? after all, you like them as a friend too. i’m sure your dynamic wouldn’t change that quickly.” jaehyun nods in agreement, swearing to do exactly that.
taesan laughs at this. “well, i think jaehyun’s going to fuck this up by being very awkward and obvious.”
leehan shoots taesan a glare. “don’t mind him, jaehyun. we’re both on your side.” taesan huffs but doesn’t disagree. okay, jaehyun. just be normal. how difficult can it be?
it proves to be extremely difficult, actually. the next time you hang out together, jaehyun thinks everything is going well, and both of you are talking and laughing like normal. half an hour later, you and jaehyun are snacking on bunggeopang on the side of the road. the streets are empty today save for a few high school students milling about. jaehyun, unaware of how messy an eater he is, is too enthusiastic about his pastry. he’s gesticulating wildly, reenacting a funny story that happened to him days ago, and doesn’t notice until you firmly grip his chin between your fingers. “jaehyun, stop moving for a second.” oh fuck. be normal, be normal, be normal…
expecting to feel cool cloth on his face, jaehyun all but freezes when you use your thumb instead to wipe off the pastry filling on the corner of his mouth. oh god. oh fuck. oh fuck fuck fucking god fuckity fuck fuck. “sorry, don’t have wipes with me this time,” your tone is regretful. jaehyun feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest. he attempts to wriggle out of your hold, but you grip him even harder. “stay, jaehyun.” oh god, that made me feel some sort of way. fuck, wait! be normal, be normal, don’t say anything… “i’m not done. there’s still some on your…”
to make it worse (or better, jaehyun can’t tell at this point), you trail your thumb over his bottom lip several times, nodding when you’re sure there are no more smears. “there! all clean,” you declare, finally letting go of jaehyun. he feels his knees go weak as you suck your thumb into your mouth, releasing it with a pop. you’re wearing a very pretty lip gloss. oh fuck. “ooh, custard filling, my favorite! i should have gotten that flavor… maybe next time,” you sigh forlornly. “anyway, jaehyun, should we get going?”
“uhhhhhhhhhhh,” is the only thing jaehyun can respond with. his brain is malfunctioning and he can’t do words anymore. “uhhhhhhhhhhh.”
you frown in concern and put a hand on his shoulder. “jaehyun? is something wrong-”
jaehyun can’t do this anymore. “ilikeyousomuchihaveacrushonyou,” he blurts out all in one breath, hiding his face in his hands out of mortification. “i’m sorry. i thought i could pretend and act like things were normal between us, but ever since you wiped my mouth last week and you were so close to me, i couldn’t stop thinking about you. and how i feel so nervous around you now that my heart is just going insane. i just had to be honest with you, i don’t think i can keep it a secret. i tried but i failed and. i. i…”
at your lack of response, jaehyun peeks at you through his fingers. you’re stone-still, and he can’t tell what you’re thinking. oh fuck. he suddenly recalls his promise with leehan and taesan to treat you as a friend first and realizes how badly he’s fucked up. a fresh wave of fear overcomes him, not just at the thought of you rejecting him, but at the notion of losing your friendship. oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck…
jaehyun’s trying his best not to cry, but he feels so miserable. “i’m sorry, you can ignore that, i don’t want to lose our friendship, i promise that i won’t let my feelings affect our friendship, please, i still want us to be friends.” maybe if he rambles long enough, he thinks, he can suppress the impulse to wail like a little child.
“wait, jaehyun, i… you like like me?” he nods. “like, more than friends?” he nods again. “like… romantically?”
“yeah,” jaehyun lets out an exhale. “‘m sorry i confessed all of a sudden. i just. couldn’t keep it in anymore. i just have all these feelings for you that i didn’t know where to put them. but i swear,” he pleads, “we don’t have to talk about this. we can just move on from this and i won’t bother you with my feelings ever again. i, i really care for you and still want to be your friend…”
“what if…” you whisper, “i don’t want to?”
jaehyun’s face falls, and it takes everything in him not to sob. he’s never even considered the possibility you might not want to be friends anymore. “oh. i. i mean that’s totally understandable. i respect that, yeah. i must have made you uncomfortable. i’m sorry. i won’t bother you anymore.” don’t cry in front of them, jaehyun, don’t cry…
but before jaehyun can turn to leave, you grip his hand tightly so he can’t escape.“no, jaehyun. i mean… what if i didn’t want to move on? what if… i want us to be more than friends too?”
jaehyun can’t believe what he’s hearing. “wait. are you serious?” a feeling akin to hope blooms inside him.
you nod, your expression growing shyer by the minute. “you’re always so kind and attentive to me. you listen to me whether i’m feeling good or shitty, and you never mock me. and… you’re also really cute,” you giggle. “i honestly thought you saw me as a friend because you flirt with literally everyone… until you confessed, now. i really like you too, jaehyun, if you’ll have me…?” you still haven’t let go of his hand, and you’re idly playing with his fingers while waiting for his response.
“OH MY GOD YES! i mean, yes! me too! please! i would. like. yes. i want. to be your boyfriend, oh my god, sorry, i keep stumbling over my words like an idiot,” jaehyun babbles. he feels his hand grow sweaty with nerves and tries to twist out of your grasp. instead, you beam, pull him in with your intertwined hands, and peck his cheek. oh my god, they just kissed me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“well… at least you can be my idiot. now let’s go!” you don’t let go of his hand, and jaehyun has a dopey, lovestruck grin on his face all the way back.
#boynextdoor x reader#boynextdoor fluff#boynextdoor imagines#boynextdoor reactions#boynextdoor scenarios#bnd scenarios#bnd x reader#bnd imagines#bnd fluff#riwoo x reader#taesan#leehan#woonhak#myung jaehyun#jaehyun#sungho#jaehyun x reader#myung jaehyun x reader#myung jaehyun imagines#myung jaehyun scenarios#myung jaehyun fluff#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun fluff#xixi writes
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Something In the Way You Lay
Summary: Vessel agrees to do an interview making you panic, but you realize it’s not an interview but an announcement, a tribute.
Warnings: Vessel x Reader smut, Oral sex, Unprotected sex, overall heart wrenching fluff…
Words: 5.3k
No Y/N Use
Title is from ‘Jericho’ by Sleep Token
When Vessel was asked to do that interview, a part of me froze to the floor in shock that he agreed.
It was backstage after a show, and I was in the middle of the chaos between celebrating, post show rituals, and crew clean up. It was always get to venue, work with venue, go to the next venue that I forgot to catch my breath in between. IV was the one who told me when Vessel spoke to their manager and a manager from the venue who brought a man who worked at the radio station around the corner. It sounded crazy and on a whim, but there was no other way I would expect any of them to accept an interview.
“I’m sorry, what now?” Was the only way I could reply to IV’s foreign words. He huffed a laugh as the facemask and jacket hit the sofa behind him. He brushed a hand through dripping sweaty hair.
”You heard me, so hurry and get shit together.” He tried to walk past me but I stood in front of him.
”An interview? You guys are taking an interview right now?”
”Yeah,” he said. “Just Vessel and II actually, but this morning Vessel got a message from the radio statio sponsoring the venue, and we were asked to do two acoustic songs and maybe an interview in between and he said yes after sending an outline of what we are willing to talk about.”
”Jesus Christ,” I gasped and his arm moved past me.
”So let’s hurry because showers and packing are a must.” My eyes darted around the room. Backstage crew already started the dirty work of cleaning his dressing room so I spun on my heel to apologize to the venue’s backstage crew.
”Oh my god!” I gasped as I rounded the corner and collided into someone. “I’m so sorry.”
”You’re so good,” he laughed.
“I was actually looking for you,” I said and he paused. He was the backstage crew team leader.
”What’s up?”
”The band just now accepted an interview at the radio station and they are busting their ass trying to get over there. I’m really sorry but I gotta get their shit and take care of them. I usually clean the venue and help your team but I just fucking can’t—“
”No prob, I totally understand.”
“Okay good,” I sighed as I continued on past him. My heart pounded in my throat. “Thanks so much.” He waved me on as he collected his team.
Of course the first room I broke into was Vessel’s.
There he was back to the door with another crew member with him. He spun around hastily with his eyes wide and wandering. They softened as they landed on me.
”What?” I simply asked as I closed the door and walked up to him.
”Yes,” he quickly said. “It’s fine.”
”Are you sure it’s fine? Ivy talked about an outline, did you actually—“
”Yes,” he repeated as he whirled around and grabbed a paper from the desk. The fluorescent bulbs around it etched our shadows into the white walls on the other side of us. “Here. Make whatever changes you think are necessary. I already sent it to them, but we can give them a new physical—”
”Vessel,” I said quietly and he stopped. He looked at the crew member and they started for the door. I took a deep breath.
Alone now, he took a step closer.
”I’m really sorry we’ve been moving so fast I hardly have seen you.”
”That-That’s fine, we can talk about that later. Right now I’m wondering what the hell you’re thinking about saying in that—“
My voice died in my throat when he held my face with both of his hands.
”For such a pretty face it sure is twisted up with stress and anger a lot. Maybe chill out for a moment.”
I sighed impatiently before he kissed me. Maybe it numbed the ringing thoughts that pestered my mind, but it took my whine for him to pull away. I pushed him off me.
”No really though, what are you going to say?”
”You really think we have done anything not calculated? I didn’t mean to leave you out of this, I had known about the station’s interest, and we had already decided we’d do an acoustic like three or four days ago. Hey now, I know I’m sorry don’t be upset,” he soothed me as my eyebrows rose and cold air filled my lungs. “It was kind of spur of the moment, but at the same time we’ve been considering it for a while, honestly ever since this album dropped.”
”Why didn’t you say anything?”
”To be fair, it’s only one interview where we put harsh parameters the host must follow.”
”Maybe,” I sighed. “I’d like to be more in the loop of things.”
”I know,” he sighed this time. “And I’m sorry about that. We keep being pulled in different directions with work.” I held him tightly as his arms came around me.
“How the hell did you shower so fast?” He burst out laughing and pushed me away. “I just realized you already washed the paint off.”
”Yeah, I knew we were in a rush so I went straight to the showers. We gotta go now though,” he said as he turned back around and got his things in order.
”Ves?” A voice on the other side of the door grabbed our attention followed by a couple knocks.
”Yeah?” He asked and the door slowly opened.
”Oh hey,” III greeted me when his eyes landed on mine first. “Crew’s good to go.”
”Shit, already?” He asked. A few crew members rushed in from III’s side.
”Yeah so let’s go. The car’s out back and Ivy’s already waiting.”
”Alright,” he sighed. He yanked on a black hoodie, grabbed his sunglasses, a black face mask, and shoved paperwork, his laptop, and personal belongings back into his backpack before he followed me out of the room.
”Ves,” I whispered as I allowed more space between us and III.
”What?” He asked as his hands met my waist so he wouldn’t run into me.
”I could just go back to the hotel room, I don’t have to—“
”No, you’re coming.”
”Okay,” I simply said. I was not the one to argue with Vessel in the middle of a rushed group of people trying to get from one venue to another.
As we emerged from the backstage, another SUV pulled up and I looked to my right to see the first already leaving. Vessel and I got in just as II rushed through the backstage door as well. He hopped in the passenger front seat.
”The interview is literally only ten minutes,” Vessel started I watched as he looked up from his phone. “We don’t have time for much more if we want to sleep.”
”What will you even say in ten minutes?” II looked at me with a smirk that skipped my heart. What did they have planned? “Ves, what’s—“
”Did you not read the paper I showed you?” I shook my head.
”Uh no, I had an entire sixteen seconds to look at it before we hauled ass out of there.” II burst out laughing.
”It’s all planned. It’s just a message we’re sending out.”
A message.
I didn’t push them for anymore.
When should I ever have doubted them? Vessel gave me a dark all knowing look, and I wondered if this was all part of their show, why did they need me? More so, why did Vessel need me?
This was all his story anyway.
In the radio station, II led Vessel into the recording room with a guitar in hand, and I was surprised that II was the one playing and not IV or at least Vessel. But when I peered through the glass door, I watched the way their eyes met, and I remembered once again how this all started in the first place.
The last thing I anticipated was Vessel and II whipping out Jericho acoustic in the middle of an on air radio station at 11:45pm but here we were.
“Until I wake I dine on old encounters, you taste like new flesh.”
As Vessel sang, my eyes were totally transfixed just as they always were when that man opened his mouth. It wasn’t often that I got to watch II play guitar for him; he used to before they pulled an entire band together.
“Something in the way you lay, enough to make the dead switch graves.”
A round of chills itched my skin as I watched Vessel’s body move with his voice. What the hell were they doing and why the hell did they start with this song? This was old, before Vessel and I were together old, and that says a lot.
I knew what this song meant to him, and I knew its place in his story. It was the start of something different and new after he put to rest his life before.
And when II started fingerpicking the melody of Euclid, I almost wanted to cry. It was a beginning, it was an end. Or was Euclid an end? Maybe it was a corridor?
“Just run it back, give me five whole minutes I am thick tar on the inside burning…”
I couldn’t get over his voice, the way he moved as he sang. The deepest part of himself was exposed if only for a moment, and I was proud that the world got to see that of him. I got the rest.
“Call me when you have the time I just need to leave this part of me behind. Do you remember me?”
I concealed a gasp as I thought about it. The transformation—the ascension and inability to move on after learning a deeper knowledge—he can’t go back but if he wants to move on he has to recognize that it changed him. Now he asks if he’s still recognizable through this change.
“For me it’s still the autumn leaves, these ancient canopies, that we used to lay beneath…”
He’s known by her because of the setting they are in, wherever they are. I wrestled with the idea of this being him versus himself or if he had actually moved away, but it sounded to me that he was the only one who had changed because she had always been the same and she had always been there for him at the same time, every time.
“By now the night belongs to you, this bough has broken through. I must be someone new…”
What was the interview about? Why would Vessel crank these two songs out back to back before uttering a word?
“In turning divine, we tangle endlessly. Like lovers entwined I know for the last time. You will not be mine so give me the night…”
My lips parted in anticipation when II put down the guitar and the host and crew clapped. But Vessel grabbed the mic and brought it closer to his facemask as the host spoke.
With a fullness in his chest, Vessel completely interrupted the host’s first question.
“Light is what brought me closer to death. It’s not death itself that swallows whole, but the light that comes from it. Darkness is soothing after being burned, and when I allowed it to finally cover me, it made me new. I faced this light until it scoured me thoroughly, and I wasn’t sure I could ever feel whole again but I fought and fought through this anger and it promised something on the other end. I had known a kind of peace until this chemical found me, and I had never seen light again after I fought it. But it took me out of all I knew; a naive place that tortured me none the wiser. Now, through ascending into this darkness, I found a different peace, one that I was sure no one thought was possible.
“Though I found that there is a god who has made peace known, and even though I have stood face to face with her inside of myself, I have found that there’s still something beyond. Something inside of the looming dark that follows us even when we don’t know. It’s not the antithesis of who this god is, however, I have found that it not only lives not as an opposite, but a mirror of who this god could be. A shadow that this god created, and she has called it good.”
When Vessel pushed the microphone away, chills cascaded down my arms, and when they both stood up, I held my breath so my stomach could settle.
I didn’t wait to hear what the stunned radio host had to say as Vessel and II left the recording room, and I didn’t ask them what was going on when they passed me and b-lined for the backdoor from where we came. When we hopped into the SUV again, it sounded like Vessel took a breath.
And I was certain that it was the recycled air I once had because the tension in my chest nearly suffocated me.
”That was good, man,” II’s light cherry voice said as he reached a hand back.
”Thanks, man,” Vessel said casually and clapped his hand once. My throat burned and I laughed to break my tension.
”Jesus Christ.”
The closing of the hotel door was what welcomed the ringing back into my ears. Vessel passed me and dropped his bag to the floor. I slowly did the same as him. His voice in the interview and that light in his eyes; he was all consuming when those words flow through him. I watched as he pulled the facemask and glasses off, and I wasn’t able to think about anything else other than that interview.
Never in a lifetime would I assume Vessel would agree to an interview live on air, but there we were but four minutes post show.
“Hey,” he breathed. “Are you okay?”
”I think I’m very tired.” He nodded.
”Me too.”
“The next album will be so badass, won’t it?” And he broke a wide smile.
”If you let it be.” Of course I nodded, and he walked towards me.
”Won’t you show it to me already?” My voice was almost a whine as his hands traveled up my sides.
“You’ve looked in the mirror thousands of times already,” he sighed as he kissed my face and dropped his lips down my neck. I hummed as I tipped my head to the side to give him room.
“You’re an idiot.” I gasped when his teeth stung my skin. “But no really,” I gasped before a frustrated sound punched from me. He fully ignored me and devoured my skin leaving cool trails of chills in his wave. “I need to know. I need to hear it; it’s not fair that I don't get to hear it before the world—oh god.” He lifted me up by the backs of my thighs and laid me down on the bed.
”Vessel,” I whined his name but he didn’t give me an answer. He tried to distract me with his mouth, his hands, his body but of course it didn’t work. “At least tell me something.”
”Did you listen to what I said in the interview?” The knot in my throat bobbed and I nodded quickly.
”How can I ever not listen to what you have to say?” He sighed as that familiar endearing gaze looked down at me. He pushed the hair from my face.
”The entire point of the albums is how I learned to trust myself and find peace in myself after not being able to, you do know that right?” I nodded again. “And so if you listened to what I said at that interview—“
”You have a weird way of doing interviews.” He broke a smile but continued on.
”Then I wanted to ask you if you know what your name meant?” My heart skipped.
I knew what it meant, but when did he take the time to find out? Of course he did; at this point I had to assume that this man knew everything intricate because there was no detail he missed.
”What does it mean?” His voice playfully rose. I swallowed hard as his mouth etched down my throat again. I had to slam my eyes closed because the room dizzied around us. My hand found his hair as he pulled my shirt up and gave my stomach the same attention.
”It means,” I choked when his eyes flashed up at me evilly; his fingers traced the underside of the top of my pants. “It means belonging to the dark.”
“That’s right.” The sweet smoothness of his voice hit my skin and another wave of chills flooded the area locally. The zip of my pants. “So if you put two and two together…” A flush heated my face and I covered my eyes with the back of my arm. I couldn’t hold back a moan when my pants came off of me and pulled my underwear down with them.
“You’re insane,” I hummed. It was the only semblance of a sentence I could muster. He broke a laugh and held my hip with one hand; his thumb pushed into my skin and stroked the area that would probably soon be flushed red with irritation and friction. “Oh shit—“ My nails dug into his scalp when he sucked harsh bruises in between my thighs. He was so close but so far and everywhere all at once except the exact place I needed most. “You're just so-so obsessed with me, aren't you?”
”You know I’m obsessed with everything and everyone I love, and you I love the most.”
“Then hurry, why do you always keep me waiting.”
”Because I’m just really not kind and love to watch you beg for me and need me the way I need you.” Heat encapsulated my heart, and I pulled on him until he followed my touch and crawled eye level to me.
”I don’t think there’s a moment where I don’t need you.”
”Maybe I just enjoy watching you show it like this.”
”Maybe it just taps your ego when I’m begging for you.” His head tossed side to side in contemplation as a smirk drew on his dark lips.
”Maybe, maybe not—“ I pulled him into a kiss before he could waste anymore time and words. This time he moaned into my mouth when I pulled on his hair and touched down the front of his clothes.
When my hand reached the top of his sweatpants, he pushed his hips into it and I smiled through the kiss.
”And now you’re teasing me for wanting you back?” He gasped as he caught his breath. “You can’t blame me, it’s been a couple weeks now.”
“And whose fault is that?” He shook his head and dropped the playful demeanor.
When he shoved me into the pillows until I sank no more, I knew we were done with the teasing and prodding. Especially when he was the one who haphazardly pulled at his pants until they were on the floor. I was the one who snaked my hands up the front of his hoodie and remembered every inch of his skin before I, too, yanked an article of clothing off.
He moaned as it came up and over his head; he sat to his knees as I rose up and chased his skin down.
”Baby,” he hummed when I kissed his skin, staring at his chest and slowly making my way down. “Oh fuck—“ I startled him when I immediately wrapped my hand around him and stroked him slowly. I didn’t waste time, like I said, and I knew he assumed I wanted revenge in teasing but I couldn’t. He brushed his hand through my hair to keep it from my face, and his breathing became so heavy that his body moved in time with it.
When my kisses were so low that his heat fogged my breath and I felt the pacing of my hand on his length against my chin, he subconsciously pushed me lower.
”There’s no need to be so mean,” he sighed breathlessly.
And so I smiled up at him like he smiled at me from below.
He shook his head and blinked furiously.
“Now,” he demanded as his fingers gouged my scalp. With a gasp, I opened my mouth and took everything from him that I could. His moans alone were worth the teasing.
I moaned out of my nose once, partly because of the weight of him on my tongue and partly because I couldn’t breathe when he shoved that deep into me, and my eyes watered as he thrusted his hips harsher than he probably needed to.
”Good—fuck, you’re doing so well for me, always make me feel so good.”
I did. I always made him feel otherworldly, no wonder why he was so obsessed with me. I would be obsessed with myself too.
I moaned around him as he tapped the back of my throat and I pressed my tongue harder against the underside of him. He gasped and lurched forward only to be stung by my nails in his hips.
”Sorry,” he whispered ever so quietly. I came off of him with a gasp and stroked him quickly until uncontrollable moans punched out of him.
“Don’t suffocate me.” A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips.
”Don’t worry,” he laughed. “You take my breath away too.” I slapped his thigh as I took him down again. Another string of moans and explicit words fell from his mouth, and I repeated every movement that I knew pulled more and more of those sweet sounds from him. My hand now pumped him where I couldn’t comfortably reach, and his face twisted and his head rolled back with pleasure when I tightened around him. His hips rhythmically moved in and out, and I knew it built under his skin. I knew he climbed and climbed and I knew where he was going.
”Stop,” he breathed. “I’m filling you with my come somewhere else.” I gasped when he roughly pulled me off of him.
And when he was free, he acted so fast I didn’t have the time to think.
My head pinned to the pillows and my thighs pushed back until they couldn’t anymore. His mouth was on mine as if he needed to taste himself on my tongue, and I pulled and scratched him until I was sure he was permanently under my nails.
I didn’t stop him and I didn’t try to sit up and defy his unspoken orders when he kissed and bit down my body. He yelled anked the rest of my clothes off in the process, and I tried to catch my breath, but the fire under his mouth intensified and consumed me whole. How could I even take a breath when all his energy was spent on lavishing my body like this?
”Ves—“ He didn’t stop, no, not when I tried to call for him. Not when I tugged on his hair again; I knew it could bring him to his knees so of course it egged him on. ”Oh my god—“ A similar trail of expletives left my throat the moment his tongue met me. He pressed my thighs back and didn’t allow me a second to close them. His moans were all I needed to hear, and I tossed my head back.
Obscene noises of his tongue and fingers working the mess in between my legs mixed with my moans, and somewhere in the thick of it he also hummed at the taste of me. I felt the bed move once and twice and I wished it was me he grinded into instead of the mattress.
”Ves please, it’s enough.”
”Not enough for me,” he spat and dove back down. Tears welled in my burning eyes the moment his tongue replaced his fingers inside of me. His thumb now swirled against me and he didn’t slow the relentless movements even as I whined and begged.
“How many times do I have to tell you; I need you inside of me, now,” I seethed. He came up for air.
”You’ll tell me every single time I want you to and every time you say it I need to hear it again.”
”It just sounds like I’m in control here.” He scoffed and shook his head.
“You’re silly, who cares?” I didn’t, and certainly not when he looked at me like I gave him breath.
”Stop,” I whined. “I’m past ready. I want you.”
“I always want you,” he sighed in response, and when he crawled over me and sank down to kiss me, he slid into me in one startling motion. I whined against him, and immediately my palms found his back. It was so fast that I didn’t have time to catch my breath. He finally gave me what I asked for, but I didn’t expect him to so easily.
He was just as tired as I was.
”Oh god,” he sighed as he held my face, his thumb hooked under my jaw. “You always feel so fucking good for me, you’re mine. My bed, my home.” I groaned as he picked up the pace and rolled his hips with mine firmly.
”Ves,” I sighed and I pushed his hair back. He lifted himself high so he could catch his breath, and I couldn't pull my eyes from the way his closed tightly. His lips parted in pleasure and moans fell from them. His arm hooked under my waist and he yanked me down on him just as he fucked his hips forward. “Shit!” I gasped and that was when he opened his eyes and looked down with a smile.
”Yeah like that?” He teased. “You know I know what you like, you know I know how to make you feel good.”
”I know,” I whined. So I also rolled my hips towards him in time with his movements, and I squeezed around him just as he pushed as deep as he could.
”Fuck—“ he gasped, and he caught himself with his hand next to my head on the pillows. “If you keep doing that, you better be alright with me filling your pussy full because I can’t stop.” I choked a gasp from his cutthroat sentiment, and I only pulled him deeper and deeper.
”Can’t believe you would even question if I would be okay with that or not,” I spat and he grabbed me by the hair.
“Oh yeah? You would be okay being stuffed full of my come all the time, wouldn’t you?”
“If you don’t fuck me properly I might die.”
”Always the dramatics with you,” he sighed dramatically before he raised to his knees and yanked my hips over his thighs. I gasped and threw my hands to the bed behind me to keep me from falling back on my upper back.
”As if you’re not equally dramatic.” The only response he had for me was the punishing thrusts of his hips, and I bit my lip until I tasted blood so that the band member who shared walls with us didn’t have to hear me. “Oh my fucking god, this is just practice. When we get home I expect you to try to make neighbors hear you.”
”Fuck,” I cried when I opened my mouth. He grabbed my hips and fucked them down on him harder with a smile on his face. “The nearest house is a three minute walk away.” He laughed and nodded his head.
”Yeah, that’s how hard I’ll go on you.”
”I’m so close,” I finally broke. His smile fell and he watched my hand as he dipped in between us and swirled against me.
”I know,” he whispered. He kissed me but I couldn’t even kiss back; the pleasure decimated any kind of chance I had at tasting him. My teeth held onto his lip and he allowed me to have a tiny hold on him.
”Baby,” he gasped in warning. I opened my eyes and watched as his were hazy and filled with intensity. “I’m going to.” I nodded quickly.
”Fill me,” I whined, and neither of us could get out another word. He wrapped his arms around my waist so I wouldn’t fall, and my hand found the back of his neck to bring him closer. At the sound of my name on his lips, my eyes snapped shut. Pleasure showered over me, and I couldn’t breathe or stop for anything. I couldn’t do anything except let it swallow me and possess me completely.
His fingers left bruises on my side, on my hip, and he slowed his movements. Even as overstimulation caught up to me, I allowed him to still ride his pleasure out. I held onto him still and finally was able to kiss him. He hardly kissed back, too blissed out and out of his body still, but I didn’t care and I kissed him, down his face and neck, and tangled my fingers in his hair again. He hummed and tipped back into the touch.
“God, you keep ruining me,” he moaned. I laughed.
”You did this to yourself.” He smiled and finally opened his eyes. I pushed his hair back and took initiative to fully sit on him. This time his hands found the bed behind him and he held himself up as I straddled him. I couldn't take my gaze from his eyes as the haze mixed with contentment and fatigue. I could drown in them all day for eternity.
“You are just so cruel to me and for what?” I laughed evilly when I didn’t get away with my intentions; of course he clocked me. “I can feel it all over me already.”
”It’s not my fault I just wanted to see you and hold you.”
”Yeah, right,” he scoffed. I kissed him breathless, and this time my hand hooked under his jaw. He moaned into me and his hand came up my back.
And when we were breathless and flushed again, I pulled away from him.
”Don’t you—okay,” he sighed in defeat. I laughed as I got off of him; our mess poured from me and onto him to deal with.
I laughed as I grabbed a towel from the bathroom. When I walked back, he was in the same position with dark eyes tracing my entire body.
”Maybe I should force you to clean it up without the towel,” he said. I sat in between his legs and he looked down at me.
”Then what would I use?” I anticipated his reply as I lowered myself further and further down.
”It seems like you already know—“ He cut himself off with a gasp when my tongue met his skin. I licked up our fluids and he thrusted his hips up again in reflex. But I held him down, and when I was done, I straddled him again.
I didn’t expect him to follow through with it, but there he was succumbing to my thumb that pulled his bottom lip down. Then the fluids poured from my mouth into his. His chest heaved once or twice and his eyes widened with an overwhelmed darkness, but I didn’t care. I held him steady there and kissed him when I couldn’t wait anymore. I should have been revolted by the taste of ourselves shared between us, but I couldn’t be when it was tempered by the sweetness of his moans.
”That’s going to fucking kill me,” he gasped when I pulled away, and it was true; his face flushed pink. I smiled and held it still.
”And you’ll be fine because you want it to.”
Sleep Token Taglist (Comment to be Added)—
#rosie writings#rosie hub#18+ only#minors dni#sleep token#sleep token vessel#vessel x reader#vessel#vessel smut#sleep token smut#sleep token fic#fanfic#smut
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analgesia
It's not the first time he's got himself skunk drunk when back home on leave, and part of you resents his decision for joining the military. Clearly that has to be the reason for him living it up like it's his last goddamn night on Earth at every opportunity, right?
You're more familiar with his sloppy cheek kisses and wandering hands while you get him home than you'd like, but such are the burdens of best friend privileges. It's Johnny—harmless, familiar. A little stupid and a lot sweet.
tags: dubcon, johnny/reader, alcohol mention, unprotected piv (wrap it up kids)
“Fuck's sake, Johnny, keep your feet—!”
Johnny just laughs and leans all of his weight on your shoulder again, making you squeak and scramble for balance.
“Le's dance, bonnie, c'mon, we gotta go dancin’,” he slurs in your ear.
A laugh bubbles up your throat before you can help it. You're tired and annoyed and exasperated, but it's just so damn hard to stay angry at Johnny with his big blue puppy eyes and the way he's always smiling like a little boy caught doing something he shouldn't have.
Dancing... Ridiculous. He can't even walk in a straight line.
“No,” and you try to sound firm through your smile. “We're going home, and we're getting you a glass of water. You stink.”
Johnny answers you with a full-on whine, burying his nose in your shoulder and scratching against your skin with his stubble. “Why're you s'mean. Why d’ye hate me.”
"If I hated you I’d dump your ass at a bus stop and leave you to sober up by yourself.” You hoist his arm more securely around your shoulder while you walk, thanking every higher being you can think of for wearing sensible sneakers tonight. Johnny's leaning into you so hard you have to lean back an almost equal amount just to stay upright and keep shuffling forward.
And so when he suddenly stops you almost fall face-first on the hard stone pavement. “What—”
You can see Johnny turn pale even under the dim lantern light, and he presses a hand to his mouth before doubling over—
“No no no please don't throw up—”
...and retching his guts out in the gutter. You allow yourself a deep sigh and watch your breath turn into a puff of cloud while listening to Johnny heave the alcohol out of his system. It's so dark out you can even make out the flicker of some stars when you look up, winking in and out of existence as the opaque curtains of cloud drift by.
When he's done you look down and wince at the stains on his shoes. He's shivering, and pity has you rubbing a hand over his shoulder.
“Ah dinnea feel s’good,” he mumbles.
“I can see that. C'mon, big boy. It's gonna be okay.”
He unsteadily lets you help him to his feet again. He's been feeling off all night, and you watch him with a mixture of worry and sadness.
It's not the first time he's got himself skunk drunk when back home on leave, and part of you resents his decision for joining the military. Clearly that has to be the reason for him living it up like it's his last goddamn night on Earth at every opportunity, right?
You're more familiar with his sloppy cheek kisses and wandering hands while you get him home than you'd like, but such are the burdens of best friend privileges. It's Johnny—harmless, familiar. A little stupid and a lot sweet.
But it's never quite felt like this. He was all smiles tonight until...
Until when?
You don't know what set him off. You were with the usual crew, old friends. Everything seemed fine—Johnny'd been playing darts with some of the other lads and you'd been with the girls, gossiping over dates and breakups and relationship advice.
You'd shyly told them the bloke you'd gone out with last week called you back asking for another date, and were hounded afterwards for details. You'd been having fun until you weren't. Or rather, until you were too distracted by Johnny slamming back drink after drink with tense shoulders and tight eyes.
You sigh again when you reach your apartment. You had plans for tomorrow, but... You glance at Johnny. His head's slumping forward till his chin is almost touching his chest. You don't want to leave him feeling sick by himself.
Johnny's drunkenly mumbling to himself while you fish around your bag for your keys with one hand. One of his arms curls around your waist, making it harder, and then his hand wanders high enough to grope at your breast.
“Chrissake, Johnny,” you smack his arm. “Play nice. I'm trying to—”
“Love ye s’much, bonnie,” he mumbles against your neck, hand not moving an inch even with your nails digging into his skin. If anything it makes him cling to you more tightly, and you're worried he'll fall and break his thick stupid head if you push him off you with more force.
“Yes, yes, love you too. Idiot. Now let go, I want to get out of the cold...”
Somehow you manage to move around his iron grip and click open the door. You put up with his slobbering against your neck because it makes him a lot easier to deal with getting up the stairs and then, fucking finally, you're in your apartment where it's warm and cosy.
You shuffle over to the bedroom because it's closest and there's just absolutely no way Johnny's going to fit on your couch. You've tried. It's not worth putting up with the complaining about back pain the next morning.
Johnny flops onto the mattress and just when you think the finish line is in sight, his hand snatches yours so quick it's a blur.
“Dinnea leave...”
“Have to get you a glass of water,” you tell him gently, trying and failing to pry his fingers off your wrist.
“Dinnea want ye t’fuckin’ leave...” his voice breaks in the middle and you stop short for a second—is he crying?
God, how drunk is he...? You'd hoped throwing up would have counted towards sobering up, but apparently not.
“Shush, it's okay, it's okay. We'll get you some water and you'll sleep it off, alright?”
Johnny slurs something you don't catch and you take the opportunity to slip away and get him a glass. You make him drink it all, even manage to get him to rinse his mouth. He does as you say without fuss, wavering between stubborn as a rock and pliantly obedient as always.
“You're a handful and a half,” you say, but without any real heat to it. You brush back strands of brown hair—his mohawk's been growing out. He'll probably ask you to cut it again before he returns to base...
When he starts to slump over again you quickly take the glass from him and set it on the bedside table, and push against his shoulder to get him to lie on his back. “Christ, what are they feeding you,” you mumble to yourself. He's got to be bigger every time you see him—you don't think you could fit two hands around his arm.
When you pull back to get Johnny a blanket he grabs at you again, and this time you're too caught off guard to keep your balance. You fall half on top of him with an ‘oomf!’ and narrowly avoid kneeing him in the groin.
“Give me a fucking break,” you huff when he takes this as the go-ahead for a nice cuddle. Those thick arms immediately wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
“Love ye s’much,” he slurs again, mouth tucked just below your ear. Every time he moves his lips it's like he's kissing you, and despite everything you have to suppress a few shudders. “So fuckin’ bonnie. Was lookin’ at ye all night. Wanted t’go dancin’ with my girl, take ye home...”
You flush. It always takes you by surprise, the drunk ‘my girl’s, to the point where you asked him about it one time. Johnny just laughed and shrugged. “You are my girl. Known you the longest since forever, aye?”
You pointed out that's not quite what it means, and the only reply you got was that he wouldn't call you that if it bothered you. It's a promise he forgets every time he goes out, though...
“You're drunk,” you tell him.
“M'not,” he says, breath hot against your neck. It's followed by something wet, and you jolt in his arms.
“What’re you—Johnny, gross, what the hell!”
He licks at you again, and the twitch that follows is involuntary. Your neck is sensitive and, well, so what if it's been a while? The guy you're planning to see next week was going to fix that. Not Johnny. He's not... He's not supposed to be—
“Taste s’fuckin’ good,” Johnny groans against your neck. The bed shifts and creaks, and this time there's a graze of teeth.
“Wait,” you gasp, voice suddenly thin and airy and so distracted by Johnny biting at your skin it takes more than a few minutes for you to realise the bed is creaking because he's humping your thigh.
An embarrassed heat zaps through you right to your core, and the intensity of it makes you break out into a sweat.
“Johnny, Johnny, wait—”
He outright moans when you say his name, hands squeezing your waist before sliding down to cup your ass and angling your hips to slot his own into. “Make it so good for you, kitty, need ye s’bad...”
Jesus Christ. Mortifyingly you can feel yourself getting wet. Just—the proximity, the heat, the electricity running up your spine every time his big hands slide over your thighs. You feel trapped, suffocated, almost, and unfortunately the fact that you can't get away from him even if you try makes the dizzy feeling in your stomach spin harder.
When Johnny sucks at your neck and roughly tugs up your shirt to knead your chest through your bra there's a few seconds of white-out bliss, and you seriously consider giving in and just—
No. He's drunk. Probably barely has any idea what he's doing—never remembers what he said or did the next morning. You can already imagine the apologetic hugs, the huge pleading eyes. He'd feel terrible.
“You're drunk—you're drunk, c'mon, Johnny, we can't, we gotta...” you cut yourself off to muffle the moan that threatens to slip when Johnny ducks his head down and starts giving your chest open-mouthed kisses.
“No,” you protest weakly, unsure if you're telling him or yourself, because despite your good intentions you really don't want him to stop. Would it be so bad? Would it be so bad if you let Johnny make you feel good? He won't remember, will honestly probably pass out before anything actually happens, and... and...
“We gotta be—gotta be smart, Johnny, oh—” his name comes out as a sob when he flicks your nipple with his tongue, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“Say my name, bonnie, sound s’fuckin’ pretty for me... Gonna make ye sing, make ye feel so good,” Johnny pants against your skin. One of his hands worms its way down, almost rips the buttons off your pants, cups your core right through panties. You shake from just that, back arching, hips stuttering away and then back towards him because this is unfair. Isn't drunk sex supposed to be shite? Why is he making it work? What's wrong with you?
Johnny moans loudly, unlike you completely unashamed and uninhibited and very happy to let you know that you're “So fuckin’ wet for me—tha's for me, aye? All mine? Fuck, tha's good—Sweet little cunt...”
You push at his shoulders with less and less conviction. You try tugging at his mohawk to get his attention, desperate not to have to be the voice of reason here, but all that does is make him shudder and bite at your tits.
And neither gets him to take his hands out of your pants, though he very quickly decides just feeling you soak your panties isn't good enough. With a lot more alacrity than you should reasonably expect of him he pushes aside your underwear, starts flicking your clit, and sticks his tongue down your throat to eagerly drink down your sounds of pleasure.
“Missed ye so much, miss my girl all the time,” he whines into your mouth. You can feel his cock thick and erect through his jeans, still rubbing against your hip, and you shiver, because Johnny's stupid big fingers are working you to completion at a rollercoaster pace. But when you start to tremble, breaths coming short and quick and needy—
He stops.
“No!” you whimper, sounding as pathetic and desperate as you feel. If he falls asleep now you're going to kill him.
But Johnny hasn't fallen asleep. When you crack your eyes open you look right into his, glittering in the half-dark of your room. When he speaks his voice is husky, low and tight with desire coating the edges.
“Tell me y’need me, aye? Wee lil’ cunt need me so bad?”
To punctuate his question he flicks at your clit again, and when your hips jolt in response his free hand presses them down into the mattress. Keeping still.
There's a split second of doubt, the voice of reason rearing its head in the back of your mind. This isn't right—he's drunk. You've just started seeing someone, kind of, not quite dating yet, but it wouldn't be fair—right?
You can't quite catch Johnny's expression in the low light, but the edges of him seem to sharpen when you don't answer right away. In one fluid motion he pushes himself up to hover over you, knee nudging your legs open wider, and presses his forehead against yours before starting excruciatingly slow circles on your clit.
You gasp and pant and can't do anything except lie there and let the weight of both his body and his gaze pin you to the bed, helpless and mortified at your own body's response. Because even though it's slow you are soaking him, him and yourself. Your jeans are ruined; your underwear is a joke. You're pretty sure if Johnny pulled away now his hand would be wet up to the wrist.
And you don't want him to pull away. You almost cry in relief when he speeds up his rhythm, so glad you don't have to make a decision after all and can simply receive whatever the alcohol in Johnny wants to give you...
Until he stops. Right on the edge, mean fucker, and this time tears slip past your lashes. “No, no, please, please, you can't—please, Johnny...”
“Tha's better,” he says roughly, the hand on your hip travelling up to pinch at your nipple until you try to wriggle away from him. “Love ye so much, kitty. Tell me you love me, c'mon.”
“I—” you swallow, mouth feeling dry despite all of Johnny's slobber. This feels like more than it should be. You love your friends. You love Johnny. But—
“Y’want it?” One of his thick fingers prods at your entrance without ever really entering, and the promise of relief so close is what breaks you.
“Yes,” you whimper. “I want it. Please. Please...”
Your reward is one thick finger slowly entering you, and you squeeze your eyes shut and sob at the sensation. It's almost—almost—everything you've ever needed. Johnny's breath has gone ragged above you, eyes glued onto your every expression.
“Y’need me, aye? Say it. Say you need me.”
“I need you,” you manage to stutter out, the last vowel of which transforms into a drawn-out moan when it gets you a slow crook of his finger inside you. It's so fucking slow, Jesus H., but it's something. If he stops now you're going to lose your mind.
Your desperation along with your evident arousal softens Johnny, and he coos at you while he fingers you. “Don't hav’ta go anywhere, jus’ stay right here with me, give you everythin’ you need...”
It'd almost be sweet if you could think straight, and you should be, you're supposed to be the one keeping a clear head, but it's really hard to think anything at all when Johnny's messily kissing you again.
“Pretty girl,” he groans when you squeeze around his finger. “My pretty girl. Ye love me? D’ye love me, bonnie?”
Your stomach is tightening and with a spike of panic you rush to answer this time:
“Yes, yes, Johnny, love you—”
How unfair that that makes him stop. He looks at you, eyes big and wild, cheeks flushed, like a kid opening a Christmas present he was told his parents didn't have the money for. And then he pulls away entirely to rip your jeans off. By the time it catches up to you, you barely have the wherewithal to raise your hips to help him.
His own clothes follow suit so quickly you fear for the fabric, and then realise it's yourself you should be worried for. You had an inkling of Johnny's size, have woken up to it pressing against your ass too many times to count, but...
That's not going to fit, you think wildly, and Johnny must see some of the panic on your face, because while he lines his thick leaking tip up to your soaking cunt his other hand pets at your cheeks, lingers on your throat. “Doing so good, bonnie, gonna make ye feel so good, fill you up so nice...”
His moan fills the room when he slides in another few inches, bounces off the walls and ricochets inside your head. It doesn't hurt, thank God—you're drenched and desperate and at this point frankly impatient.
Johnny slides in deeper and tugs your legs around his waist, makes you keep them there when he bottoms out and lets out a wild groan from somewhere deep in his chest. You can feel it in your own, pressed against you as he is.
“Perfect girl,” he gasps, slowly pulling his hips back and then slamming them back into yours. “Fuckin’ mine—all f’r me.”
This time you're not sure who leans in for the kiss first. It doesn't matter anymore. Your moans and whimpers steadily grow in volume until you're crying under Johnny, clinging to him while he fucks you following a rhythm too quick and wild to try to meet.
When he presses his thumb to your clit again it barely takes anything to ignite the fire again, wild and hot and ready to boil over. Johnny coos at you again when your mouth drops open in long, silent cry, cunt clenching around him hungrily. “Tha's it, bonnie, feel so good, aye? Pretty kitty feelin’ so good? Fuckin’ made for me, gonna fuck ye so full—”
It doesn't take long for him to do exactly that. You can feel his cum filling you, hot and heavy, long spurts accompanied by Johnny's desperate moans and whimpers.
You whine when he collapses on top of you to give you more lazy, open-mouthed kisses—“You're heavy, Johnny, get off”—and try to catch your breath in the two seconds of reprieve you get before he's pulling you into his chest.
You're spent. Sweaty, flushed, and boneless. The sheets are no doubt disgusting, but it's so late and you're too fucked-out to care. You file it away for tomorrow, just like the hundred other things you're going to have to talk about somehow...
Johnny lets out a deep, contented sigh, tucking you under his chin and pulling your leg over his waist like he's rearranging a doll. You don't have the strength in you to protest. It's only when you feel his cock prodding at you again that you jolt away from him and try to remove your leg, but Johnny frowns, clicking his tongue like he would at a disobedient pet.
“I want to sleep, Johnny, 'm tired...”
Johnny tuts softly, keeping you still with a firm grip while he enters you again. “’S just for keepin’ it all in, bonnie, dinnea fuss. See? ‘S nice all full like this, aye? Wake ye up all nice ‘n proper tomorrow.”
You wriggle in his grasp with a soft whine—Johnny's cock is girthier than any other you've had before and you're sore from being used like a battering ram, even if it felt mind-numbingly good. But Johnny's arms are iron, and the more you try to move around the tighter he holds you to him.
Eventually you give up and give in. Sleep is tugging at you insistently, and when you relax around him it's not so bad. Johnny kisses you when he feels you settle, his hand running soothingly over your bare skin.
It's enough for you to be lulled into sleep. Before you drift off one last thought surfaces:
Isn't Johnny supposed to be good at holding his liqueur...?
#cod mw2#cod x reader#soap cod#john soap mactavish#soap mw2#soap mactavish#soap x reader#soap/reader#john soap mactavish x reader#x reader
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drabble request: bucky coming back from a night at the officers club and finding buck curled up in bed wearing his sheepskin to help him fall asleep 🥹
Sorry it took so long to get to this! Thanks for the idea anon, I love it! Hope you enjoy reading it too!
Word Count: 1,685 (some softness below the cut)
The air had a slight chill to it, the breeze reminding Bucky that Autumn was fading, and Winter was creeping up on them. He runs warm and the whiskey he’s consumed this evening does well to protect him from the worst of it, so he finds himself mostly content as he stands outside the Officer’s Club to finish the cigarette he’d come out to smoke.
The night was going well. The mission the boys had returned from earlier in the day had been a success in all the ways that mattered. They’d hit their targets and somehow, miraculously, not one fort had gone down. Some of the crews were busted up, but no one had required a trip to the infirmary, so it was a win in his book.
Bucky new better than to have hope that their next mission would end with the same statistics, but the success had motivated the boys and they’d all wanted to ride the good feeling into the night. He hadn’t been up in the air for this one, left off the rotation this time around, and the anxiety and fear that had gripped him all day was finally fully gone.
He had felt the need to join the boys in the revelry. He wasn’t with them up in the air today, but he could sure as hell be with them now and help show them a good time. As usual, Gale had agreed to accompany him, always willing to show his face and set a good example for the men, despite his preference for less crowded venues and less lively crowds.
Bucky turned his gaze to the door that swung outwards to his left, expecting Curt or another fellow smoker, but was happy when he saw Gale stepping out into the night and making his way towards him. He was always the happiest to see Gale.
“Finally decide to find a vice?” Bucky joked, holding his cigarette out towards Gale and laughing when Gale swatted his hand away as he finally stopped within arm’s reach of him.
“Already found one of those,” Gale said back, looking pointedly at Bucky, eyes playful.
Bucky laughed again, feeling even warmer now.
“And you’ll find that this particular vice you’ve got is one that’s impossible to shake,” Bucky grins at him. “You’re probably gonna be stuck with it for life.”
Gale nods, face a mockery of serious contemplation before he sighs and gives Bucky a small smile. “I think I can live with that.”
Bucky smiles back and takes another drag of his cigarette. He watches as Gale crosses his arms and rocks slightly on his heels. He runs cold where Bucky runs warm and he seems to have a harder time shaking the cold from the high altitude after missions than everyone else.
“So, what brings you out in the cold,” Bucky asks, “Miss me already?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Gale chuckles. “I made my rounds, saw all the men. Think I’m calling it a night.”
Bucky’s about to whine, throw out his usual protest for when Gale turns in early, but then he really looks at Gale. He sees the shadows under his eyes, the small cut along his jaw he’d received during the mission but couldn’t recall when or how, sees the slight shake to his shoulders. He tosses his cigarette away and turns to face him fully.
“You’re alright though?” He wants to reach out and cup his jaw, run his finger over the reddened skin. “You’re not hurting, are you?”
Gale’s eyes are full of affection when he meets his and a smile is tugging at his lips.
“Sore, the usual. You know that well as I do,” Gale tells him, and Bucky does know, it’s true. “I ain’t hurtin’ and I’m fine. Just tired.” His smile turns a little sheepish. “And cold.”
“Well, what a surprise,” Bucky teases. “Gotta get you a thinker coat, maybe one like mine. Wearing that puppy is like being wrapped in a warm hug.”
“You know I hate that jacket,” Gale huffs out. “And I’d rather just have the real thing than something like it.”
It takes a moment for Bucky to realize what Gale was saying, but when he does his heart gives an embarrassing flutter. He looks around and decides to take the risk, steps forward and wraps his arms around Gale’s shoulders. Gale doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around his waist, face burrowing into his neck.
“Wish we could do this all night,” Gale breathes into his collarbone and Bucky rubs a hand up and down his back. He knows that Gale means he wishes they could sleep like this, in each other’s arms and he wishes for it too. But they live in a barracks with 10 other men and it’s a risk they won’t dare to take. One day, Bucky thinks.
“Me too,” Bucky breathes into his hair. He feels the arms around him tighten for a moment before Gale pulls away and Bucky lets him go, even though he wants to do the opposite.
He sees Gale shiver and shove his hands into his pockets, and he just wants to hold him again. Knows he shouldn’t, knows he can’t.
“I’ll walk you back,” Bucky offers, not wanting to ever let Gale out of his sight. The memory from this morning of watching him disappear into the clouds, not knowing if he’d ever pop back out of them threatens to overwhelm him so he pushes it aside. Slams it back into the box in his mind.
“No way,” Gale laughs. “Curt was already hollering in there about you playing cards next round. I think he’s got money on you, Bucky.”
“I don’t care,” Bucky tells him and means it.
Gale smiles at him, fondness in his eyes. “I know you don’t. But the guys aren’t done having fun with the life of the party and I know you’ll have a good time sticking the evening out with them.”
Bucky wants to protest, wants to remind Gale that there isn’t anywhere he’d rather be than with him, anyone he’d rather be with than him. But he knows Gale is right. He’d told his table of card sharks that he was just stepping out for a smoke and they were all expecting him back. They were having fun, in large part due to his boisterous behavior and he’d set out to give them a night like this. He’d stick to his plan, no matter how much he’d rather walk Gale back and watch him fall asleep.
“Alright,” Bucky relents. “But know that while my body is here at the club, my heart is with you in your bunk.” He tells him dramatically with a hand over his heart.
Gale shoves him away with a laugh and an exasperated, “You’re ridiculous.”
“Makes you smile though,” Bucky points out with a grin.
“I’ll see in the morning,” Gale ignores his words, even though he’s still smiling. “Goodnight John.”
“Night Buck.”
Bucky lights another cigarette just so he can stay outside and watch him walk away until he disappears in the darkness.
----
Bucky’s hands feel clumsy as he tries to unknot his tie, stumbling through the door to the barracks. He hears Crank and Curt laughing at him, but their footsteps are no steadier than his. He makes an exaggerated shushing noise and gestures in the direction of his and Gale’s cots at the far end of the room. The other men roll their eyes but quiet down as they all make their way to their own racks.
It was a good night. All the boys left the Officer’s Club in even better spirits than when they’d entered, he’d won Curt a good chunk of change winning at cards, and he was pleasantly drunk on good whiskey.
He throws his tie on his cot and sits on the edge to start the fumbling process of getting his shoes untied, wishing Gale was awake to help him. The thought brings his focus to the cot directly across from his and he feels light and airy all of a sudden.
Gale is sleeping in his usual position, turned on his side, slightly bent, one hand under his pillow, the other pillowed under his cheek. He looks so soft and sweet, and Bucky wants to join him, spoon him, hold him and it hurts that he can’t.
He toes off his shoes and stands to unbutton his shirt and remove his belt, eyes still on Gale’s sleeping form. He pauses his movements as he notices a familiar cream-colored bit of fluff tucked under Gale’s chin. When he looks to the hooks along the wall they use to hang their things and prevent wrinkles, he notices his sheepskin is missing from its usual spot.
On silent socked feet he moves the two steps it takes to reach the edge of Gale’s cot and reaches out to grab the Army green wool blanket draped over him. A small, careful lift reveals a sight that warms Bucky’s heart more than all the sunshine and whiskey in the world ever could.
Gale has Bucky’s sheepskin, the jacket he supposedly hates, wrapped around his torso and shoulders, the fur of the collar tucked tight under his chin. He takes a moment to just look, thankful its dark as he knows the expression on his face is one of lovesick adoration.
He imagines Gale coming back from the club tonight, shivering and tired and alone. Imagines him grabbing the sheepskin and tucking himself into it before covering the evidence with the rough wool. Imagines he was probably embarrassed about it, maybe his cheeks even flushed when he decided to do it. He wishes he’d been here to see it.
Bucky hopes his words rang true and that his jacket feels like a warm hug to Gale.
Gently, he replaces the wool blanket, hiding Gale’s stolen object of comfort from any potential prying eyes. He runs his hand gently through Gale’s hair, wishes he could replace the jacket with himself and feels sad that he can’t.
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May we have tips on drawing robots? (Like, all them joints and wires and what-nots, I'm curious)
TBF I don't have any knowledge on robotic engineering to explain the thought process behind designing the complex mechanisms of a machine. I usually work with simpler structures, things I can visualize mentally, or references I find online.
To me, it's about coming up with some funky shapes and, in the case of a robot's inner machinery, messing around with unsymmetrical designs (when breaking down a robot, you can't expect all the wiring to be tidy and consistent). Sometimes, one gotta accept the fact these things might not make any sense visually, or work efficiently when practiced in real life (thanks to fiction and creative freedom!).
I wish I knew tutorials or proper reference links to share with you. Until then, the best advice I can give is: do not always worry about What Makes Sense, because most of the time, it won't make sense anyway.
If you draw, try looking up references for the exact kind of machinery you're trying to portray in your art, preferably something of your liking, so you'll feel inspired + have something to start off with. You can create Pinterest boards and collect different images online for this.
My OC Beatrix, for example, is heavily inspired by Alita: Battle Angel's "doll" and "berserker" designs. My other OC, Hunter, is inspired by a supporting robot character in the Monica's Gang comics I read as teen. Then, I just kept adding stuff I found cool.
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fleeting concept idea but what about a romance with Barbatos where he knows exactly who you are going to be to him when you meet but he's lived his life very bored about all the events because he's not surprised by anything, including you.
you're just another boring event that's coming to pass in his life but like, his apathetic behavior isn't working for you so he's unconsciously pushing you away until he realizes in a panic that a relationship is something that needs to happen canonically so he's falling over himself suddenly trying to woo you
but he's kind of bad at it since he's never had to do that before.
and to you he's just this really weird guy that hits on you sometimes badly (a little creepy and maybe a little charming- fueling his deeper panics) and to him he's realizing he's gotta do more than just hit the notes he's gotta play the music with feeling until he realizes he's in love with the song
I was with you for the whole thing, anon, but then you really hit it home with that music analogy at the end. Music analogies - my biggest weakness!!
Anyway, what are you talking about fleeting? This is a solid concept!
I like the idea of Barbatos just being like ho hum this is just the same old stuff, I already know what's going to happen, how dull. And then it's like no wait, but this has to happen for real, so now he has to at least try.
I always think of Barbatos as being super suave and confident, but I like the idea that he's actually bad at something for once, too lol.
What would that even be like? I'd have to like rearrange his entire character in my head to make that possible (which isn't a bad thing, in fact I find it compelling).
Like okay he realizes he has to start making things happen, so maybe he invites you over for tea. He's gotta start somewhere and even if he's not so great at wooing, he can make one hell of a cup of tea. You're mostly satisfied, but he's not doing anything even remotely flirty, so to you it's just a regular tea time. Then he realizes he hasn't done anything flirty.
He's prepared ahead of time. He asked Diavolo for advice and was told to use a pickup line.
So he says, "Do you have a map?" Here he checks a note or something 'cause he had to write it down. "Because I have become lost in your eyes."
You almost end up shooting tea out of your nose because you're laughing so hard.
Barb's just like ??? Did I say it wrong?
This kind of nonsense continues until he realizes he is falling for you.
Awwww. That's pretty cute, actually.
#not me making this super fluff#sorry#it's how I roll lol#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me barbatos#anon asks#misc answers
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Do you think that more RPGs should start using untraditional elemental damage types like sound or magnetism or whatever? I know Honkai Star Rail has some crazy shit like quantum damage or imaginary damage, whatever that even means.
That kind of thing is fun. There's a lot of potential there. This isn't a video game example, but I've always loved that the four classical elements in Adventure Time's universe are fire, ice, candy, and slime.
I think we tend to see games stick with the more traditional elements just because it's more intuitive, though. It lightens the player's mental load. You already intuitively know that fire melts ice and water conducts electricity and whatnot. You can logically deduce which elements are useful where based on instinct. You give players something like slime element attacks and now you gotta teach them what the hell you use that for, and they have to commit that to memory. In a game with a lot of options at the player's disposal, it's easy for that to devolve into just brute forcing everything by trying out random elements until something is super effective, rather than understanding the internal logic. Worst case scenario, players just decide to not use the elements they don't understand the applications for and stick with the basics. These are certainly design problems that can be worked around, but sometimes it's easier to just play it straight and use the elements everyone already has burnt into their memory from every other game
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