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#the witty first half
feluka · 1 year
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reading every criticism about every single tales protag that isn't yuri, a summary:
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mariocki · 1 year
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Infinite list of favourite lyrics: 221/?
Half Man Half Biscuit - Stuck up a Hornbeam (2014)
"I'm so desolate, I'm so all alone.
I feel arthritic in every single bone.
I've got a mynah bird -
It does nothing but moan.
For you, I'd lose
My self-esteem;
For you, I'd lose
My self-esteem;
For Crewe, I'd use
Junction 16."
#favourite lyrics#half man half biscuit#stuck up a hornbeam#nigel blackwell#urge for offal#2014#post punk#I'm admittedly late to the party with HMHB‚ despite being dimly aware of them for the last decade or two I'd never actually heard#any of their work until fairly recently‚ on a trip to a second hand record store where the owner was playing their (wonderfully titled)#2018 album No One Cares About Your Creative Hub So Get Your Fuckin' Hedge Cut. after chatting to him and laughing at the lyrics#i went home and looked them up and listened to a couple of albums all at once (as an aside‚ just going to record stores is honestly#a great way to discover music you haven't heard before‚ I've found several favourites this way)#Urge for Offal seems to be recommended by several critics as a good introduction to the band‚ with its guitar heavy pop punk#tight 3 minute songs and more up to date pop culture references (all of HMHB's back catalogue is bulging with wry references‚ jokes#and nods to bits of british culture‚ film‚ tv‚ history‚ music etc etc but as the band has been going since the mid 80s some of these lines#have drifted into obscurity for newer listeners. sure‚ i appreciate the Chigley drug parody but I'm weird‚ and idk how well known the#worlds of Trumptonshire are in 2023). regardless of accessibility‚ the band (and it's surprisingly difficult to find out who exactly is#writing their songs but some googling suggests lead singer and guitarist Blackwell is the key lyricist)#have a genius gift for witty juxtaposition of universal themes of love‚ loss and depression with hyper specific cultural illustration and#genuinely very funny jokes. the first time i heard this the 'for Crewe I'd use junction 16' line made me laugh out loud
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ennaih · 6 months
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Every Film I Watch In 2023:
254. Yes, Chef! Christmas (2023)
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inkskinned · 1 month
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how odd, to watch the creative writing exercises of angry men in the comments of instagram. you noticed it first in the comments of conventionally attractive women - but then it started appearing everywhere else, too.
a young man talks about what lunch he's packing his wife. there is a little story under it, with 300 likes, fabricated from nothing. "this is pointless. if you treat her like this, she will take the lunch to her office and fuck her boss and divorce him and take all his money."
you scroll. a young woman talks about what lunch she's packing for her husband. it is always uglier when the subject of the video is a woman, you've noticed. "you sit on camera and you smile and you are cheating with the neighbor and then you're going to lie about being sexually assaulted by your husband and -"
you stop reading. it has 567 likes.
where did this even become a thing? people making up stories in their head, disgusting long-winded assumptions about intention and sexual disgrace. the evil twin of fanfiction.
like - it's just a lie. it's a lie that they are telling, baldfaced and assumptive. the undercurrent is of course misogyny, but the trouble is that they're so fucking certain. that's what makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. there is this pervasive, inventive desire for them to be right. that they must be right. all women are cheating, lying, gold-digging bitches. no exceptions.
in the reverse, when women say i'd rather meet a bear in the woods than a strange man - men funnel in from the sides. they defend each other with a vibrance and capacity for empathy you wish applied to like, the other half of the population. a man could be saying i absolutely did kill her and these creatures in the comments would rise up with king shit. she made it happen. they love each other to the point of this sick strange self-gaslighting, a fervent and unhinged cognitive distortion. all men are good, wonderful people. all women are terrible, conniving, seditious, annoying.
and when did it become okay to just, like... say that kind of a thing? at one point, you find yourself typing out a witty and snappy retort. why are you spending so much time fantasizing about other people babe. but as you stare at the screen, some part of you pictures this man in public, saying these things to your face. his soapbox, high and mighty. his mirrored sunglasses and his empty life: tired and lonely.
what a sad and horrible loop he's locked in. he is terrible to women, so women don't talk to him, which he uses as an excuse to act more terribly. he blames this "failure" on women, rather than on his behavior. it cannot be that he is the problem (that the solution is to just put his ego down and accept women as equals) - he begins to invent a sculpture to replace the flesh frame of each person he sees.
it isn't just a woman posing on the beach. it is now a slut with a desperate need for each person to crave her body. it isn't just a woman yelping with surprise during something upsetting. it is a hysterical, unhelpful cretin who will probably make things worse instead of better. it isn't a person.
someone's very sweet wedding vows get moderate attention on instagram. in the comments, a man says good fucking luck you'll waste your life providing while behind your back she's absolutely fucking the best man. this will be so cringe in 2 months when she walks out on you.
you think - is that what you need to be true? is that what you need to happen, for the world to make sense to you?
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leilanihours · 1 month
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Anything with Kate Martin pleaseee!
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# GOLD RUSH
pairing: kate martin x teammate!reader
word count: 1780
warnings: none!
summary: kate being the cutest most adoring girlfriend ever while you get ready on live.
⭑ from lani: this was heavily inspired by this video bc kate actually might be the cutest human to ever walk the earth ty
"WHAT IS UP guys, welcome back to yet another game day prep," you greet to the camera propped against the mirror in front of you, "today we are going up against lsu, so there's gonna be a lot of tension in the arena today."
user1: hi y/nnnn
user2: is caitlin there?
user3: team lsu lol
user4: y/n what shampoo/conditioner do u use??
it's become a tradition for you to go live and do a little "get ready with me" on the most highly-anticipated gamedays, as you wanted to get fans excited for the face-off.
the first one you hosted got lots of love, viewers falling in love with your bubbly personality and witty remarks to your teasing teammates.
you were currently in your hotel bathroom, one you shared with your teammate, gabbie marshall. but all the girls have borderline separation anxiety, leading to half the team hanging out in your room as you all prepare yourselves for the game.
"are you on live?" you hear a voice whisper. turning your head, you see kate peeking hers into the bathroom a small smile on her face.
"yeah," you reply sweetly, "you wanna say hi?"
she nods, immediately sliding the door open to join you.
"looks like we have a special cameo today, folks, y'all got lucky," you laugh
"hi, live, how you guys doin?" kate says.
as you begin doing your skincare, you see kate take a seat on the closed toilet in the corner, carefully observing your routine.
"you okay, babe?" you ask with a grin once you notice her puppy-dog like stare. the nickname slips from your lips like first nature, appearing cordial to the camera but the two of you know the hidden meaning.
user1: help kate looks so starstruck wtf shes adorable
user2: omg wait i use that same moisturizer
user3: "BABE"?
user4: not kate just sitting on a damn toilet LMAOO
you and kate have always been close, ever since your freshman year at iowa. on the court you two bounce off of each other's energy constantly, frequently managing to raise the stakes of the game.
fans have noticed it too, of course, with proud taps after one of you makes a shot and suspiciously long post-game hugs.
the team is fully aware of your private relationship, respecting your wishes of secrecy. there have been pointed questions from reporters and interviewers, but you all know how to dodge a personal question one way or another.
a few minutes go by of you telling a funny story from the bus ride to the hotel, consisting of caitlin getting caught on video singing horribly off-key. with promises of posting the recording later that evening, you and kate both laugh at the memory.
as you start on your light makeup look, you begin reading some comments popping up on your screen.
user1: thoughts on reese and clarks rivalry??
user2: wheres caitlin and gabbie
user3: y/n can u say hi alyssa
user4: what are your guys' top 3 music artists
"'thoughts on reese and clark's rivalry?'" you read, "i mean, they've said it before, there's no bad blood between them, just some good old basketball competition," you state with a small smile as you start blending in a light layer of skin tint.
"yeah, i mean some light-hearted teasing and trash-talking always makes a game more fun in my opinion," kate chimes in, "especially when it leads to an increase in viewership."
"for sure, for sure," you smirk at her in the corner of your eye, sneakily suggesting your own dating rumors circulating before every game.
"'top three music artists?'" kate reads, "dude, mine changes 24/7 so i have no idea anymore."
"ooo," you contemplate the question as you look up in thought, "gotta be taylor swift...sza...anddd frank ocean? no, kehlani! wait actually-"
"i don't think you know either, y/n," kate laughs.
"oh whatever," you say, rolling your eyes playfully, "speaking of music, can you put some on?"
"i gotchu," kate responds, picking up her phone to connect to the bluetooth speaker on the counter.
soon enough, you hear the familiar tune of "gold rush" by taylor swift, a song publicly known to be your favorite (kate knows this, naturally, which is why she played it first).
once she notices your stretched grin and quiet hum to the lyrics, she mirrors your expression, feeling light in her chest at the sight of your happiness.
she stands up from her spot on top of the toilet seat, slowly coming up behind you to observe you even closer.
the two of you make eye contact in the mirror, immediately blushing and smiling like madmen. and, of course, nothing goes unnoticed by the live watchers so comments of you two rush in.
user1: aww the way they smile at each other im crying
user2: okay when is it my turn to get a gf like y/n or kate 😢
user3: not kate stealing my gf..
user4: they gotta be dating right??
you and kate scan over the messages, trying to keep a straight face as to not give away anything.
"kate can you do me a favor and get my setting spray from my suitcase? its in a clear bottle with a pink cap," you ask her, but shes too entranced by your beauty to hear.
"sorry, what was that?"
you giggle, "my setting spray please?"
"oh! okay, be right back, guys!"
you return your focus to your makeup and the song playing, the melodies too addicting for you to not sing along.
as kate comes back into the fairly spacious bathroom, you thank her for getting your spray, placing it on the marble counter. she reclaims her spot behind you, continuing to watch you work as if you were the most interesting movie she'd ever seen.
she wishes she could place her arms around your waist and rest her chin on your shoulder to whisper sweet words into your ear. sadly, for the sake of your private relationship, she had to settle for admiring from afar (which is really only like a foot away from you).
"y/n!" you hear one of the girls call out from the bedroom, "can i borrow your eyebrow gel? i forgot mine in my room!"
"sure, it's in here, come grab it!" you yell back. a few seconds later, jada comes sauntering into the bathroom, immediately taking notice of kate's presence and the phone displaying your every action.
"oh my gosh, heyy livee," she smiles, waving her fingers at the camera.
user1: omg jada ilysm
user2: still waiting on catilin tbh
user3: JADA!!
user4: my fav girls :((
as you apply small amounts of blush to your cheeks, jada stands next to you fixing up her eyebrows wih your gel. and, yes, kate is still behind the both of you. she has begun to fix her hair into her signature ponytail braid, quickly maneuvering her dirty-blonde locks with ease after working the style for so long.
"my teammates are so prettayy," she exclaims to the livestream once she'd finished with her hair.
"you're prettyy," jada replies, singing.
"pretty beautiful," kate sings back while you're simply giggling at the girls' antics.
you're too concentrated on curling your lashes correctly to notice that kate was specifically gazing at you with that last comment, nothing but pure love and admiration behind her words.
jada, who is now out of the frame and catching kate's longing stare in your direction, turns around to face her, mouthing: "you're so whipped."
kate playfully shoves her out the bathroom and returns to her former seat on the toilet.
"okay, guys, sorry we haven't been talking to y'all that much," you say as you step back from the mirror, "the last step of my makeup look is to apply some setting spray that, thankfully, the lovely kate martin has gotten for me."
"wait, can i do it?" kate asks, eager to help you out.
"yeah, come over here," you respond.
kate shoots up and over to you and takes the bottle from your hand. her fingers brush against yours for a split second, sending a tingly feeling throughout your body. at this point, you don't even need to put blush on, kate's subtle touches bringing more than enough color to your face.
"i'll tell you when to stop, okay?"
"okay, close your eyes for me," kate mumbles, putting a delicate hand on your shoulder.
obliging, you feel light spritzes of mist fall on your face as kate controls the bottle nervously, not wanting to mess up.
"don't hold back, i'll tell you when it's good, don't worry," you laugh.
almost a whole minute goes by, which slightly concerns your girlfriend.
"more??" she exclaims.
finally, you tell her you've received a good amount, opening your eyes to look at her. you're instantly met those blue eyes youve grown so fond of. and again, you can't keep the smile off your face when she maintains eye contact in an irritatingly addictive manner. you practically forget about the phone pointed on the two of you, stuck in your own worlds.
"gametime, guys, let's go!" you hear a voice echo, snapping the two of you out of your trances.
user1: OMG WAS THAT CAITLIN
user2: i know my wifes voice when i hear it
user3: are we just gonna ignore the eye contact between kate and y/n??
user4: yall r so delusional lmaoo
returning to your phone, you pick it up off the mirror and follow kate out of the bathroom.
"okay, guys, hopefully you enjoyed today's live," you cheer, "make sure to tune in to espn tonight to watch the game!"
you hear an overlap of voices, each one saying goodbye to the viewers.
"bye live! see you soon!" from kate.
"bye my lovely people!" from gabbie.
"mwah love you guys see y'all at the game!" from jada.
"go hawkeyes!" from caitlin.
you snicker as you watch more and more comments about caitlin pour in, your followers going crazy at a small glimpse of their favorite athlete.
as soon as you end the live, everyone begins rushing out of your hotel room and down to the lobby to wait for the bus. hurriedly, you grab your backpack and make your way towards the door, but an eager hand pulls you back.
before you know it, a set of soft lips is placed against your own and two hands are glued to your waist. instead of jumping in surprise, you immediately melt into the kiss, finding comfort in your girlfriend's familiar embrace.
"sorry," she blushes once you pull away, "been wanting to do that all day."
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princesssarisa · 1 year
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I still can't get over that once, I saw someone write that they disliked Elizabeth Bennet because she was an "author avatar Mary Sue."
I understand taking that viewpoint if you only read the first half of Pride and Prejudice, before Darcy's letter. The impression the first half creates is "Most of these people are silly, obnoxious, or both. Witty, sensible, charming Elizabeth, who's usually the smartest person in the room, cleverly judges and mocks them all, while giving warm affection and esteem to the few who really deserve it." This is more or less the way she views herself and the narrative plays along with it. If you stop reading before Darcy's letter, then she might indeed come across as an "author avatar Mary Sue."
But then all of the above is deconstructed by Darcy's letter.
Elizabeth realizes – and we realize – that she hasn't been such a good judge of character or the cleverest person in the room after all. Her cynical, witty judgments have been just as faulty as her sister Jane's naïve idealism. She's been full of herself, and she's judged Darcy more negatively than he ever deserved (not that he hasn't been at fault too, but still...) because he stung her personal vanity, while letting herself be charmed and misled by Wickham because he flattered her. She's been very much at fault and she learns a lesson, just like we later learn that Darcy did after she rejected him.
A similar arc applies to Mr. Bennet, the person who has clearly influenced Elizabeth the most throughout her life. At first we're set up to like him for his wit, and to view him as the good, sensible Bennet parent in contrast to his silly, obnoxious wife. But then we realize – and Elizabeth is forced to realize – that no, he hasn't been a good parent, he's been irresponsible and mean-spirited toward his wife and younger daughters, and he's just as much to blame as Mrs. Bennet for all their problems.
How anyone can call Elizabeth a Mary Sue after reading the entire book is beyond me. Some people can't seem to let go of their first impression of her, even though the faultiness of first impressions is one of the novel's main themes.
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heavenlymorals · 17 days
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Details I've noticed about Arthur Morgan Part 2 cuz you guys seem to be devouring the first one 👍🏼 :
- Him and Dutch share the same sense of humor- dry, sarcastic, and usually at another's expense.
- However, both Arthur and Dutch get really annoyed whenever they direct that same humor to eachother.
-When Dutch and Arthur quick draw, they both turn their bodies to make them a smaller target. They are the only ones in the gang that do this in idle animation.
- Arthur's journal is filled with many half done, not fully rendered drawings. Some pages have one small drawing on them and are then skipped over. Other drawings are just shapes and strokes that represent the schema of an animal or person. It's very realistic to an actual sketchbook and not the Pinterest dream sketchbook.
- Arthur, prior to Hosea's death and Micah overturning his position as Dutch's right hand man, is always there whenever a big decision is being there and is asked for feedback too. Arthur isn't just a member of the VDL gang, he's a leader of it too and people seem to forget that.
- Arthur is very emotionally tough and when I mean very, I mean VERY. He doesn't cry when Sean dies, someone he considered like a little brother. He doesn't cry when Lenny dies, someone he probably saw as a son. He doesn't cry when Hosea dies, someone he saw as a father figure. Of course, they were all in high stress situations that could've stopped an emotional reaction, but even later when he can process things, he doesn't cry.
- There is one time in the game where we see Arthur tear up from emotional pain and that is when he speaks to the nun about his life and what he could've had. Still though, he doesn't cry. It says a lot about him.
- In the final journal entry, though, we see a splotch next to the entry on the empty left page that looks like a tear drop. Take that as you will.
- Arthur's hand writing becomes much more spaced out, messy, and words will be scribbled out more often the sicker he gets. Shakey hands.
- He's very witty and quick with insults, like fascinatingly quick.
- He is pretty intelligent but does allow others to dumb him down like Hosea- as the gang's strongman, this could be so the people they work with would put more emphasis on Arthur's strength so he can be more intimidating.
- The picture that Jack gives Arthur has the male figure wearing a black gambler hat like Arthur and John didn't wear a hat in chapter two. Jack probably saw Arthur as his father figure during that point, not John.
- Does want Jack to learn responsibility ("About time you started to earn your keep" "You got to stick at things, Jack") , but he's very kind, patient, and reasonable considering how young the kid was.
- He doesn't let women carry their luggage if he can do it for them (Mary, the nun)
- He's casually mean or teasing to the younger men and generally polite to the women but he will go off on them in the same way if they anger him enough.
- I wish he was a real person
- I'd like to drink a beer with him
- For I love him ❤️
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devourable · 1 year
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✘ delinquents
sfw | tws : yandere behavior; stalking, obsessive thoughts, mildly implied violence
delinquent male yanderes x reader! only pronoun used for reader is ‘you’ 😌 i took a bit longer than expected so i hope yall enjoy these knuckleheads
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mattias was the first to take notice of you.
he caught sight of you during one of his typical late night walks with his friends, semi-drunkenly cracked jokes amongst themselves as they passed around liquor that they had stolen earlier in the day. and when his gaze fell onto you from some distance away, he stopped walking.
you were doing nothing but sitting at a bus stop, but... what was it about you? the way the street lamp bathed you in its light, illuminating you with an amber glow like you were the only thing on the street? it made the boy's heart stutter in a way he'd never felt before!
when his friends returned to his side upon noticing he had stopped walking, mattie quickly pointed you out to his friends ("guys, check out that cutie!"), and an additional three pairs of eyes landed on you as your bus rumbled down the road. and they all had the same reaction as him — you were adorable! what were you doing out on your own so late? didn’t you know there were criminals around here? poor little thing you were, you must’ve not had any other choice…
clearly, you needed someone to protect you!
they were too far away to approach then and there, but it was probably for the best. getting talked up by four drunk, imposing male strangers so late at night would probably not make the best first impression, one of them pointed out as they watches you board your bus. so completely unbeknownst to you, your four new admirers had already began to devise a plan to meet you formally.
it was strange how naturally their collective desire for you fell together. any other time, if even just two of them liked the same person, it was enough to cause infighting and strife among the friend group. but you? the way you united them simply by existing, you had to be something special! it must’ve been destiny that they noticed you that night.
the four would slowly trickle their way into your life, one by one. despite mattias begging to be the one to do it, dominic would be the first of the four you’d actually meet. in his eyes, he was the least intimidating, the most suave, the most manipulative. his charmingly crooked smile had always helped him charm his way into and out of most situations, and you were no different.
he’d casually start riding the same bus as you at the same times you did, using it as an excuse to talk to you. coincidentally, you and him had the same stops, too! and he even got the driver to give you free lifts, even when he wasn't around. it was an old favor he was owed, he'd say, so you didn't have to pay any mind to the tense demeanor of the bus driver whenever you boarded.
naturally he’d offer to walk you home, too, but if you weren’t comfortable with that, it was no biggie (he’d figure out where you lived regardless). he was content with waving you off and walking in a different direction for the meantime.
mattias and judas came next. when dom had managed to convince you to stop by the nearby corner store with him one day, his friends just so happened to be there! as if they weren’t waiting there every day after you and dom had established a friendship.
it was all mattias could do to not scoop you up the moment you met. you were even cuter up close! he was so happy when his patience was rewarded by being graced with your voice, your laughs at his witty sense of humor, and your little smile when you looked at him. did you like him back? did you think he was half as attractive as he found you to be? he desperately wanted to know what you thought of him, but he choked back his questions to keep from scaring you off. in spite of his usually energetic persona, he played it cool to gain your favor.
judas, meanwhile, observed you in relative silence — he wasn’t much of a talker, dom explained — but it didn’t mean his thoughts weren’t any less intense than mattias’s. he couldn’t deny it — he liked you, quite a lot. more than he thought he would. despite finding you attractive too, he didn’t think much of you when he had first grown aware of your existence. he’d simply chalked you up to be the temporary fixation of his friends. but the second you did meet, judas’s mind went to places he had never expected it to go.
for once, he found himself… wanting someone. wanting you. and for once, he was happy his friends had dragged them into this whole scheme.
the four of you all got along so well! and when aaron was finally introduced to you as well, he was no exception. aaron was the only of the four to have a car, so when he ‘learned’ that you were taking the bus so late to get around, he was quick to offer up his own services to help you out ("dom is too much of a nuisance to drive around," he'd claim). an excuse to be able to spend more time with you, with and without his friends around, and you don’t have to deal with public transportation anymore! a win-win, right? and when you accepted, he was over the moon.
it didn't take long for them to sweep you right off your feet after you had met all four of them. they were relentless in capturing your heart and all four of them worked together to ensure you were theirs.
on top of that, none of them were afraid of breaking a few rules or laws to do that, either.
you found yourself always with at least one of the four — usually mattias, as he had the most free time and arguably liked you the most — and the few times you weren't, you could bet they were doing everything in their power to get back to you. other people in your life suddenly began to pull away from you, never having time or simply not wanting to be around you, or so they claimed. it left you with little else to turn to outside of the boys. they had started to puppeteer your life without you ever even knowing it.
they didn't quite understand the pull you had on them — hell, you didn't even realize what you were doing to them! and they even started to question if what they were doing was okay. was what they were doing to your life just to keep you in theirs worth it?
but dominic, mattias, judas, and aaron all came to the same decision the day you agreed to be in a relationship with all four of them...
it was definitely worth it. and they'd keep doing whatever it took to keep things going exactly as they were.
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itaipava · 8 months
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— that italicized ‘oh’ moment with f1 boys.
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˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS
the sudden display of affection. when you’re so happy because of something and when he’s so happy because you’re so happy, and you excitedly jump into each other’s arms; it’s a very soft ‘oh’ first, relishing how warm this is and also thinking how you never want to let go because this feels like home, that’s when it hits: oh. the earlier excitement has waned, replaced by something else entirely as you linger in each other’s embrace.
˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO
that moment when your gazes lock in a loud, crowded room. at first it starts off with a few casual sentences and before you both know it, the conversation flows so perfectly despite the rowdiness and chaos surrounding the two of you, and between a witty retort and an embarrassingly loud abrupt laugh, your eyes meet and it’s like oh. oh indeed.
˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ
when he sees you, truly sees you for the first time. he finds it incredulous how he’d never noticed the way the shade of your eyes shines in the sun or the way your laughter sounds like poetry in summertime. it’s like you’ve been friends for years and yet until this moment, he’d never looked at you. but now, suddenly, everything makes sense: the effortless smiles that find him when you’re being your idiotic self, the stupid excuses he tried to find just to be close to you, and the quiet pang in his heart when you’re being a little too friendly with someone else. it all makes sense now and the only thing he can say is oh.
˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC
the accidental i love you. the words spilled out of him without warning, without a second thought. he hadn’t meant to say it but he did mean it. as a friend, he internally tried to reason, feeling both panicked and strangely calm. but you looked into his eyes and he looked back, and you both resigned you were in deep trouble because oh.
˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON
when you’re vulnerable with each other. you hesitantly tell him something you’ve never had the courage to tell anyone before. and instead of wincing or recoiling from you, he simply nods and listens. and you let out a sound that’s almost like laughter — half surprised and half delighted. and you realize all at once how special this is, how special he is, how light you feel after letting that out. and oh, you think. if you weren’t certain before if you’re in love with him, you are now. so hopelessly, gratefully, and blessedly in love.
˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI
the first kiss. it’s all easy smiles, teasing smirks, and playful, challenging gazes. until the kiss. his mind empties; there’s no thought of what exactly happened to lead up to this or what to do when things get awkward between you afterwards. there’s only the feeling of your lips against his, and the feel of your hair and skin as he cradles your face and kisses you deeper. head empty, really, except for a very happy and slightly startled oh.
˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN
only when someone indirectly points it out. because he’s too oblivious that he leaves his own feelings no choice but to gradually worm their way. then he’s talking to someone about love — how the topic got there, he has no idea — but he’s listening to the person describe a quote they’ve heard from somewhere and max finds that he relates to it a little too much and his mind keeps going to you and just like that, it hits him. beneath all the ‘friendly’ touches, i’m-bored late night phone calls, and bellyaching laughter, there’s something more. oh.
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delaber · 1 year
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Warrior/Worrier (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
Summary: After a mission gone awry, Bucky finds himself on your doorstep in the middle of the night.
Words: 5.3K
Fluff, fluff and fluff and a lil bit of angst. Classic hurt/comfort and friends to lovers
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Through the darkness, there's a knock on your bedroom door, so soft, so cautious, that if you hadn't already been half-awake, you're not sure you would've caught it.
Legs quickly swung over the side of your mattress, you stop and focus at a fixpoint in your moonlit room.
According to the big mission schedule hung in Steve's office, you should be the only one at the compound, so you cannot for the life in you figure out who would rap on your door at 3.30 in the morning, but it wasn't just something you'd imagined because there it is again. A knock, not much louder than before, but definitely there.
For a brief second, your foggy brain ponders that it's likely someone who's been sent to kill you in the dead of night, but before you've even reached for your bedside Beretta, rationality reminds you that they probably wouldn't have had the curtesy to knock first - and then it dawns on you.
"Nat," you sigh with a roll of your eyes and let your bare feet hit the floor while you rub the sleep from off your face. It's not the first time she's forgotten the lock combination to her room after post-mission drinks.
Slowly, you walk across the cold floorboards and over to the wooden door where you can hear ragged breathing from the other side of the wall. Hand lazily pulling the door open, you start talking before you've seen who's on the other side.
"It's only four digits and you're panic breathing?" you chuckle but is immediately taken aback when you're not met by Natasha but instead by your best friend. "...Buck?"
He's back from his mission a day earlier than you'd expected and you're just about to crack a witty comment on how you'd told him that Sam couldn't stand to be alone with him for more than thirty-six hours, but then you notice the state he's in.
His entire body is slumped over as he clutches his right arm tight to his chest, eyes droopy and blank, cheekbones dotted by freckles of soot and framed by thick strands of auburn hair caked in dried blood. "Doll," he breathes painfully and takes a step closer, looking only mildly relieved to see you.
"Buck!" you hiss in fear and grab both his cheeks, but his dirty face just drops further, and he can't even look at you though you're standing mere inches apart.
"I know it's late," he mumbles with his gaze downcast, "but can I come in?"
It's as if you don't hear him clearly enough to respond. His voice is under water and at the same time layers above you while you're far too concerned with every look of horror splashed across his handsome face, your hands frantically clutching his bloodied cheeks as you desperately search his eyes though he still won't look at you. "What happened? Where's all this blood coming from?"
"It's - it's not mine..." he croaks with a small shake of his head.
Fear ripples through your entire body one more time and you can barely speak as you imagine the worst possible scenario that might have caused Bucky to behave like this. "Is it... Sam?" you whimper with tears already burning in your eyes, fighting the urge to throw up.
"He's fine," Bucky quickly interrupts with a small nod, "I dropped him off at his girl's place twenty minutes ago," he croaks and finally looks up at you, his eyes more broken than you've ever seen them before. It makes your heart crack in two. "Sweetheart, can I please come in?"
"Oh god," you pant anxiously and reluctantly let your fingers slide off his cheeks as you step to the side and finally let him inside your bedroom. "Yes, yes of course you can come in."
Immediately, he's on your bed, his face buried in his vibranium hand as the pads of his fingers start rubbing circles over his dusty forehead.
"What happened?" you barely manage to croak as you sit down beside him and carefully place a hand on his rigid thigh. "Last time I heard from you, everything was going according to plan."
"I don't want to talk about it," he gulps and starts rubbing his face even more agitatedly, looking over at you with an apologetic look on his face. "- not right now... I just had to see you. I'm sorry I woke you up."
You grab his vibranium hand and bring it down to his lap to get him to stop his frantic movements and he immediately squeezes you tight, letting out another heart-breaking sob.
"It's okay, Buck. I'm glad you're here."
Over the last year, you've seen Bucky on his darkest days a handful of times, and he usually has the same look on his face, but this time, it's different. It's deeper. Despondent and morose, the anger that's usually posessing him om the bleaker days replaced by a different kind of sadness.
Something really bad must've happened...
"Do you wanna sleep in here tonight?" you ask, unsure how to tackle this the best way possible if you don't want him to shield himself off in his room the way he usually does when he's not feeling his best. He shouldn't be alone under any circumstances.
You're half expecting him to protest, but to your surprise he starts nodding, relieved. "Thank you," he whispers and squeezes your hand tight again.
You make an attempt at a comforting touch as you brush over the soot on his cheeks, making a strand of dirty hair dipped in dried blood fall from his forehead. "You want a shower? I can draw you a bath."
He nods again.
"Come on, love," you say quietly and watch as he gulps hard at the sound of the tender pet-name that you've been wanting to call him for months now but haven't had the guts to say out loud until it accidentally slips past your lips. Surprisingly, you're not even embarrassed by yourself. You suppose there are more important things to worry about than an accidental profession of love in a moment of gentle affection.
Bucky seems taken aback too, frozen, and full of wonder, but he shakes it off and lets you pull him to your small bathroom, accepting your fluffiest towel without a word as he continues staring at you.
"I'll be just outside, okay?" you say reassuringly as you turn on the water in your bathtub, making sure it's the right temperature before putting in the drain stopper.
He's still looking at you with huge eyes, flesh arm clutched to his chest while the fluffy white towel gently supports his elbow. You silently wonder if he's hurt but before you can ask him, he speaks.
"Can you... stay?" He asks quietly, biting his inner cheek, unsure if his request is too much.
Still, it's your turn to be taken aback. You and Bucky are close but not like that. 
"Stay?" you instinctively furrow your eyebrows, "while you shower?
He immediately clenches his jaw shut and shakes his head while small patches of pink appear on his cheeks underneath all the dirt. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
"No, no it's okay," you quickly stand up from your position by the tub spout so you're once again levelled. "- I was just surprised, that's all," you want to smack yourself for making him doubt himself. "Of course I'll stay."
Ice blue irises slowly find yours while the rose tint of his lower lip is being pulled between his teeth. "Are you sure?" he hesitates while sucking in some air, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable..."
"You're not," you touch your hand to his sternum to underline your words and watches as the crease between his eyebrows slowly reduces as he gradually relaxes under your touch. You can't help but think that even through all the dust and the grime, he looks incredibly beautiful.
"Let me give you some privacy," you unwillingly let go of him and turn away so he can undress in peace.
From behind you, you can hear the ruffle of his tac pants being pushed down his legs before the belt buckle clangs loudly against the tiles of the floor. It's followed by a series of loud painful grunts and hisses a few seconds later.
"Are you okay?" you ask and turn your head to the side, careful not to look directly at him as to not break the trust he put in you when he asked you to stay. "Buck?"
"Yeah, sweetheart," he sighs in embarrassment behind you, "it's just... do you think you could... help me?"
You turn around slowly to find him standing in the middle of the bathroom still wearing his torn t-shirt and Kevlar vest, bare-legged in boxer shorts and black socks pulled high up on his calf while his pants are lying crumbled on the floor beside him. He's awkwardly shifting the weight between his two feet, still clutching his right arm tightly. "It's my elbow."
Immediately, you furrow your eyebrows and walk over to him, taking his right hand in yours. "Yeah, I meant to ask you earlier. What happened?"
He doesn't answer but just silently lets you examine the swelling and black-purple skin that's half-hidden underneath dust and blood.
"Shit," you breathe and hear him give out a sharp hiss when you turn his arm over so you can examine the other side, "Buck, I think your elbow's torn."
"Me too," he gulps, "- I heard it snap."
At the mere thought of the sound, a wave of nausea hits you square in the chest and your stomach starts to churn. You can feel the tang of acid push up on your tongue when you imagine the pain he must've been enduring - still is enduring - but you fight it relentlessly and eventually manage to swallow down the bile. You should be taking care of him, not the other way around.
"We should go down to the infirmary," you say and keep your gaze firmly placed on the purple bruising, so he doesn't notice your discomfort. "I know it probably won't take too long to heal with the serum and all but just to make su-"
"Sweetheart," he gulps from above you and it makes you stop mid-sentence. "Not tonight, okay? I just wanna stay here tonight."
You look up at him, about to protest, but the words quickly die in your throat when you notice the look he's wearing. He's begging. Anxious. Heavy-hearted.
"Okay," you reluctantly agree and carefully let go of his arm while he sends you a grateful look. "Come on, let me help you out of this," you say quietly in defeat and unstrap his vest beneath his ribs, pulling the Kevlar plates over his head while he groans loudly.
"Ah!" he hisses and clutches his elbow tight, squeezing his eyes shut when you try and pull his t-shirt over his head. "Fuck!"
"You good?"
"Mm-hmm" he hums displeased with lips pressed so tightly together they're forming a thin, white line. "Just get it over with."
You pull on the hem again so the dark fabric rides up his stomach, revealing scarred skin pulled tight over the bulging muscles you've spent so many warm summer days discreetly staring at. "Can you reach your arms just a little higher?" you ask and watch how his diaphragm heaves in small electric shocks when he cannot control the loud gasps that escape his throat.
"Fuck me!" He hisses and squeezes his eyes so tightly shut that his entire face pales. "Just rip the damn fabric off," he hisses angrily, "I can't extend my fucking arm."
"Are you sure you don't wanna get it checked out in the med wing?" You let go of his t-shirt and look him deep in the eye, hoping your concerned gaze can convince him that it'll be worth the trip just to get your jumping nerves under control.
"Just... get me out of this thing," he sighs in defeat. "Cut it open, I don't care."
Disinclined, you dive down in the drawer underneath your sink, pulling out a small flat-legged scissor that came with a roll of gauze you bought last year when you had a nasty wound that wouldn't stop bleeding. "Are you sure?" You look up at him as you put the blade underneath the hem of his t-shirt.
Through the fingers you have placed over his chest, you can feel how his pulse quickly falls again when your eyes meet.
"S'just a t-shirt," he mumbles quietly while nodding, "I'm sure..."
Though you want to stay in this position forever, you slowly look away from him and down at your hands as your hesitantly start cutting, careful not to pierce Bucky's flesh with the sharp scissors.
The blade runs through the fabric like a hot knife through butter and you can feel every tense muscle that the edge of the scissors encounters as they travel over his warm stomach and chest. It makes the blood roar in your ears as more and more skin is revealed underneath your fingertips.
Concentrated on not hurting him even more, you keep your gaze firmly placed on his heavily panting chest as you cut open the front of his black shirt and carefully peel the fabric off his bruised arm until he's standing in front of you in nothing but black boxers and socks, his left hand carefully reaching out for yours as if to comfort both of you.
You've seen him bare chested several times before, but it's never been in this close proximity, never been this intimate, just the two of you holding hands and looking each other deep in the eye as you silently try to assure the other that everything is going to be okay.
"So..." you clear your throat, embarrassed by the fact that you have to hold yourself back from leaning forwards, planting a small kiss on his dusty cheek. "- I take it you can shimmy your way out of those on your own, right?" You nod down towards his boxers and he blinks as if he's just woken up from a trance.
"Yeah," he nods and lets go of your hand while the pink patches make a reappearance on his face.
Slowly, you turn around facing the running spout in the tub to the soft sound of cotton hitting the floor behind you. Involuntarily, you give out a gulp and flusteredly grab the box of bath salts just to give your shaking hands something to do. You cannot believe that your extremely fuckable best friend is standing naked in your bathroom no more than two feet away, begging you to stay close to him.
Eyes still firmly placed on the water in the tub, you point over your shoulder to the rainfall shower in the opposite corner of the bathroom. "You wanna rinse off first?"
"I better," Bucky hesitates behind you. "Don't you think?"
"It'll be a much nicer bath if you do," you awkwardly clear your throat.
"Yeah, you're right," he sighs and turns on the shower, immediately stepping inside and closing the glass door behind him so you can finally breathe freely again.
Through the mirror above the sink, you can make out his naked silhouette behind the matte glass and how the tension in his shoulders first tenfolds and then completely disappears the minute the water turns warm and he relaxes. He lets his forehead fall forwards so it's pressed up against the cold tiles while the water runs over his defined shoulders and down his sculpted back, and you literally have to force your eyes away from him and the shape of his handsome torso.
With your gaze fixed firmly on the fuzzy bathmat at the foot of the shower, you hear the sound of your bath gel being opened, followed by a series of painful grunts as Bucky desperately tries to lather himself with the soap.
"Fuck," he mumbles quietly and before you've even voiced a single word of concern, he continues. "Sweetheart, I know it's a lot to ask..." he says a little louder, the embararssement still evident in his voice, "- but I'm gonna need a little help in here... it's - it's this damn elbow," he sighs, "I'm useless. Can you...?" his voice trails off and the question hangs thickly in the air between you.
He wants you to join him.
To wash him.
Take care of him.
The thought alone makes you nervous, you have to admit, but he needs your help and you're willing to do anything for him.
"Give me a minute," you gulp and strip down to your panties, pulling on the bra you wore earlier so you're not completely bare in there. Several times, you've dreamt of you and Bucky naked together, but not like this - never like this - and you'll be damned if the first time he sees you without a shred of clothes is because he needs help and not because he needs you.
With your pyjamas neatly folded on top of the toilet seat cover, you take a final look at yourself in the mirror, brushing your hair out of your eyes before nervously reaching for the shower door with shaking hands.
He's still standing with his chiselled back towards you, letting the water rinse over his dirty hair and down between his shoulder blades with a slightly pinkish hue. "I'm so sorry about this," he mumbles uncomfortably and hands you your loofah behind his back. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."
"Come on, Buck," you say as you dribble a little soap on the sponge, fighting the urge to let your gaze run all the way down to his thick thighs. "Don't beat yourself up, you know I'm always here for you."
"Still," he mumbles and goes silent as the loofah gently runs over his tense shoulders and traces down his spine.
The white soap bubbles work magic on his dirty skin and you make sure not to leave out a single square inch of his scarred backside as you wash him while fighting the urge to wrap your arms around his torso, telling him how glad you are that he not alone came home, but also that he came to you seeking help instead of barricading himself in his room. It seems significant that he's here, as if something's changed between you though you cannot put your finger on it.
Completely lost in thought, you accidentally run the loofah a little too vigorously over his right tricep, sending shockwaves down his broken bone and resulting in a painful hiss falling from his open mouth.
"Sorry," you mumble, and scrub down his lower back, this time more careful with your movements though there aren't any dirty or bloody spots left on either side of his spine. "There we go" you conclude quietly when you realise that the rinsing water has finally lost its pink and grimy hue. "Turn around," you ask and hope he cannot hear the nervousness straining your voice. No matter what, you're not looking down.
Bucky seems just as jittery about his compromising position as you do, and he slowly spins around, revealing pink cheeks and heaving pecs, his gaze glued to the ceiling as he looks as if he's ready to fling himself off the nearest cliff. "God, sweetheart," he mumbles and breathes hard, "I'm so sorry for all this."
"Bucky, come on - what'd I tell you?" you touch the loofah to his chest, careful not to look anywhere than at the sponge itself as it traces over his collar bones and down his handsome stomach.
He merely sighs and stands completely still while you rinse the crevices between the metal plates over his left clavicle, careful not to move his torso so much he hisses in pain again.
"...You're a good friend," he mumbles after a few focused minutes where you've carefully been scrubbing the gold-plated lines in the vibranium, "- I ever tell you that?"
"All the time," you smile genuinely for the first time since he knocked on your door earlier that evening. If there's one thing you can count on, it's that Bucky Barnes appreciates you more than anything.
"I mean it," he says, "never doubt that."
You look up into his eyes.
He looks so soft and innocent as he stands before you, face finally clean, wet hair sticking to his forehead while he professes his love for you. Even if it's just platonic, it makes your heart skip a beat.
"I know, Buck."
"Good," he nods and blinks a few times with heavy, wet lashes framing his cerulean eyes. The air between you is thicker than ever and for a brief moment, it looks as if he's about to lean in and kiss you, but you break the tension by looking away. You don't want to take advantage of his vulnerable state no matter how badly you want that kiss.
"You ready for the tub?" You ask him in a weirdly shaky voice.
He nods while an almost inaudible sigh escapes his lips. "Yeah," he says and turns off the water, quickly exiting the shower before you can take notice of the disappointment burning on his skin.
You dry your feet on the small fuzzy mat, carefully watching Bucky's naked backside as he tests the temperature in the tub by dipping his toe in the water before stepping over the porcelain edge, sitting himself down.
Immediately, he gives out a content sigh, and drapes right arm over his chest, supporting his broken elbow with vibranium fingers, and you finally deem the situation safe enough to approach him again.
"Want me to wash your hair?"
"Mmh" he hums with closed eyes, immediately more relaxed now that he's covered by water. "I don't deserve you."
You grab your shampoo bottle and push out a decent amount of liquid, pressing it to his warm scalp to the sound of an alleviated sigh falling from his lips as you carefully start massaging it into his roots.
"Does that feel good?" you ask through a smile.
"Yeah, sweetheart," he groans quietly, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter awake, "- feels amazing."
You're slowly lathering shampoo into his long hair, enjoying the feel of him underneath your fingertips, how his soft hair slips through your hands while also trying not to think too much about the kiss you robbed yourself of in the shower. You can hear how his breathing slowly steadies and you think that maybe he's in the early stages of sleep but then he unexpectedly heaves a deep breath -
"You know... I haven't been scared of death for a long time," he says so sudden, so seriously that you're immediately brought out of your trance as your every muscle freezes at his austere tone of voice. "I used to not care if I lived or died but... tonight didn't go as planned," he swallows thickly and you can see how his jaw tenses up as his voice becomes husky, "- they... had me."
"What?" you pant with mortification, your every skeletal muscle paralysed as your breathing picks up. You don't have to ask him who he's talking about.
"Sam and I, we were so sure of ourselves," he shakes his head with his gaze fixed on the wall straight ahead. "We thought had the perfect plan... I - I'm such an idiot, nothing ever runs smoothly with Hydra."
You can feel your heart thumping in your throat. "What happened?" You whisper.
"Sam was on the look-out while I got the hard drive," he mumbles, "it was so easy. It didn't even take me five minutes before I was heading back towards the safehouse," he gulps, "- of course it was an ambush. I should have realised the minute I set foot inside that building."
"You couldn't have known," you whimper softly and stroke his scalp, but he doesn't listen.
"- I thought I was..." the words drown in a heavy sigh, and he stares blankly into space while blinking the tears away.
"Buck," you whisper and can feel the pain radiating from every fibre of his entire being when you wrap your arms around his wet torso and hold him close to your chest.
"They took me to a room. Strapped me down," he takes a ragged breath, and you hold on to him even tighter, "I was sure that was it. I never thought I'd find myself home again."
"You're home now," you whisper and softly kiss his shoulder, hoping that he doesn't feel the tear that lands on top of his clavicle. "You're home now with me."
"I know, sweetheart," he leans into your hug with a sigh, "trust me, I know."
"Everything's gonna be alright, love," you whisper against him and stroke your hand over his hair, "it's you and me against the world, always."
"You and me," he quietly confirms and leans back into your chest with a deep breath.
You continue stroking him over the hair, hold on to him for dear life, not willing to let go as you feel him relax more and more in your arms until he starts snoring slightly, finally warm and safe in your embrace.
"Buck, come on," you instinctively kiss him right below his ear, "you're sleeping. Let's get you into bed."
"Sorry," he mumbles groggily and lets his head fall back against your shoulder. "m'just so fucking tired. Been up thirty-six hours..."
"We'll talk tomorrow," you kiss him again and unwillingly unwrap yourself from around his chest, standing up straight beside him. "I'm not going anywhere. Promise."
He's looking up at you with puppy eyes, gaze slowly travelling down your body and up again as if he hadn't realised you were in your lingerie until that exact moment. "You look beautiful," he says quietly and you half-expect him to laugh it off, but his face stays serious.
"...Thanks," you croak while handing him the fluffy towel, not sure how to react to his sweet words. He's called you many things, but he's never downright called you beautiful before.
"I can take it from here, sweetheart," he nods slowly and steals one last glance down at your body, "you just go to bed. I'll be in in a minute."
"Okay," you whisper and peel yourself away from the tension between you by swiftly turning around, exiting the bathroom.
Back in your room, you barely have time to get out of your wet underwear and put on a fresh set of pyjamas, before a boxer-clad Bucky joins you on the bed.
"Are you still okay with me staying the night?" He asks, nervously.
"Of course I am," you answer immediately and find his vibranium hand underneath the covers, lacing your fingers between his as you scan his weary features. "See if you can get some sleep, okay? You need it," you brush a strand of wet hair away from his face and make sure he's fine by gently cupping his cheek before closing your eyes, hoping he's following your lead, doing the same.
The dark room goes completely quiet for a few minutes where the only audible sound is of your synchronised breathing.
You can feel yourself grow impossibly tired too as you lie there hand in hand with Bucky, and you're just about to succumb to sleep, when suddenly, his quiet whisper breaks the silence.
"I thought about you," he says softly, and it makes you open your eyes again.
You're staring straight into his handsome face, his beautiful blue eyes scanning over your features as he slowly clarifies.
"When they had me strapped down, I thought about you," he moves his fingers against the palm of your hand and completely engulfs you. "The thought of not seeing you again was..." the words die in his throat, and he looks as if he's seconds away from whimpering. "- Sweetheart, you make me so afraid of dying."
You breathe hard with quivering lips, huge eyes matching his as you let his confession sink in.
"I was so desperate to come home, I snapped the restraints in half. Snapped my own elbow along with them," he winces slightly at the painful memory that once again makes your stomach churn. "Sweetheart, I fought like hell. I don't think I've ever been so angry... I - I killed everyone I could get my hands on, I just had to see you again," he brings your hand to his soft lips and kisses the delicate pulse point of your wrist.
"Buck..." a slow whine escapes your throat as you try to blink away a stubborn tear that slowly starts rolling down the side of your nose.
"I love you," he whispers so softly against your thin skin that you almost don't hear. His eyes are closed and he looks relieved to be lying here with you, so you carefully pull his hand to your chest, placing his vibranium palm above your heavily beating heart.
"I love you too."
"Sweetheart," he whispers above you and moves his hand a little on top of your soft pyjamas while lightly shaking his head with a sigh. "No, you don't understand..." he gulps and searches your face, "I love you."
Your breath hitches in your throat.
"- I want more than this," he slowly admits. "I want to be more than your friend. I'm in love with you."
You squeeze his hand and move a little closer to him, scared that he'll stop confessing his love if you say something to throw him off track.
He holds on to you and can feel how your pulse starts racing underneath your pyjamas. "I hope I'm not scaring you off."
"No, no you're not," you say in a hoarse voice, "not at all. I - I think about you all the time."
"You do?" He breathes hard, clearly not believing what he's hearing.
"Yeah," you merely nod and move your head a little closer to him while he does the same. "I'm in love with you too, Buck. Have been for quite some time."
With a serious look, he moves his hand from off your chest and up to your face where he brushes a finger over the delicate features of your cheekbone and down to your jawline. "I'm gonna kiss you now," he warns in a whisper and waits for you to give him a nod before he reaches his head forwards, finally claiming your mouth with his lips.
His hand snakes down the length of your spine and you press your entire front up against his hard chest and stomach while he caresses the small of your back, slipping his soft tongue inside your mouth. "God," he moans and gently grabs hold of your hips, pulling you impossibly close to him. "You make me feel whole again," he whispers against your skin and kisses a small line from your earlobe and down to the base of your clavicle. "What do you say sweetheart?" he mumbles and nibbles at your skin, "can I take you out?"
"Yeah, Buck, you can take me out," you squeeze his hand, and he smiles for the first time that evening, setting everything inside of you aflame.
He's finally smiling and it's because of you.
"I wanna do it the old-fashioned way," he says, beaming, "bring you flowers. Take you dancing. Show you how you're supposed to be treated."
You can't help but chuckle at his soft innocence. "You're an old man," you brush him over his hair, "nobody goes dancing anymore."
"I'll teach you," he chuckles back but lets it turn into a sharp hiss when he accidentally moves his broken elbow.
"That sounds lovely," you admit with a smile, excited at the prospect of having his hands on your hips while he tells you what to do, "- though I'm afraid we'll have to get that elbow sorted first if you want to manoeuvre me around on the dancefloor. I know you don't see the point in going but... med wing tomorrow morning?"
"Okay," he rolls his eyes with a laugh that makes your stomach go all warm and fuzzy. "If it gets me to go dancing with you just an hour earlier, it's worth the trip... Will you go with me?"
"Yeah, I'll go with you," you kiss his hand, and he chuckles so warmly your stomach lights up again. "I'll go with you always."
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axellovesalastor · 3 months
Text
First time posting smut so hope it goes well 🥲
Alastor Brat Taming
Tags/warnings: Alastor x reader, gender neutral reader, Afab reader, 18+, smut, SLIGHT somnophilia, some bdsm, dry humping
Slightly proofread sorry for any mistakes
Feel free to leave suggestions, comment for part 2!!
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After a long day, you found yourself in Alastor’s bed, your body pressed into him and his arm wrapped around you, spooning you. He was softly snoring but you didn’t mind it at all, in fact you found it quite cute. Feeling safe in his embrace, you scooted back to feel his warm body against yours even more. But, you had moved back a little too much and now your ass was pressed in between his hips.
Even with him being soft, you could still tell exactly what you were pressing up against. Feeling playful, you pressed yourself against him a little harder. “What are you doing?” His voice tired, and slightly croaky. His voice was enough to drive you mad.
It seemed like he was still half asleep, so he moved back a little bit, removing his hips from you. You protested, and pressed yourself up against him again, this time slightly harder, enough for him to not be able to ignore. This time you could feel him better than before. In response, he removed his arm from over you, moving his hand on your lower back and pushed you away, then bringing his hand under your jaw, turning your head to face him. He moved closer, almost pressing his face into your neck, locking eyes with you. You could feel his breath ghosting against your neck, almost sending you over the edge. “If you do that again, trust me, I will fuck you until all you can remember is my name.” Biting your lip, you decided that is exactly what you wanted, and did it again. “You promise?”
Within a second, he had swiftly flipped you onto your stomach, and was sitting on your ass. He pinned your arms above your head, holding your wrists tight enough to almost think you’d made him mad. “I do not like to be bothered while I’m sleeping. Nor do I like to be teased. Very rude.” Still feeling brave, you retorted a muffled remark into the pillow, “yeah I’m sure you don’t like to be teased, you got rock hard and still are now.” He removed one hand from your wrists, gathering both of them in other. He pushed your head down more into the pillow. “If you’d like to keep breathing, I’d suggest shutting that bratty mouth of yours.” Starting to feel slightly lightheaded, you muffled out a barely intelligible “fine”, and he removed his hand from the back of your head.
Still holding your hands above your head, he took the other hand, and with a sharp claw, dragged a finger along your back, ripping your shirt in two. Slightly disappointed, you whined softly. “Aww, come on Al. I liked that shirt.” He laughed a little and took both hands and started rubbing your sides. “You should’ve thought about that before pissing me off, dear. Keep your hands up there. If you want me to fuck you so bad we are doing it my way.”
Hearing him being so demanding made you melt. You wanted to be witty so bad, catch him off guard with a clever quip, but your body was ready to submit to him fully. “Not so mouthy now, are we?” He started to get up from off of you, and almost embarrassingly quickly, you whined out, “where are you going?” Knowing how badly you wanted him filled him with a primal urge. “I just want to get a better look.” He knelt at the end of the bed and grabbed your thighs, pulling you up and adjusting you to be bent over in front of him. You weren’t wearing pants, so now it was very easy for him to see the wet spot he’d made come out of you. Seeing this made his cock twitch inside his pants, and he let out a soft, breathy groan.
He placed his thumb on your heat, and with a painfully slow stroke, he dragged his finger down your slit, gathering your juices on it and making an outline of your cunt through your underwear. When he reached your clit, you whimpered desperately. That made him hard enough to almost convince himself he’d rip through his pants. He pushed down on your clit, and your sweet noises filled his ears again. His breathing grew louder, and you swore it sounded slightly shaky, too. He pushed down once more, he was using you as his toy and wanted to see how much you could take before you screamed for him to just devour you already.
“Please just fuck me, I can’t take it anymore” he’d swore he’d never heard anything sexier, and with that, you heard him unzip his pants and he grabbed your hips and pulled you toward him, his cock now daring to push inside you, the only thing stopping it being both of your underwear. “I’m trying to keep my composure, but you are making it very difficult.”
He moved his hips in slight, controlled circles, and at this point, you were already losing your sanity, and you were sure he was too. You tried to keep it in, but all you could do was whimper and whine. “Alastor, please, I-I can’t- I’m gonna-“ His body shuddered and his cock was twitching on you. His breathing was becoming unsteady and he was grunting in between breaths. “You’re… you’re soaking on me. How disgusting….” His nails dug into your sides, almost drawing blood. He threw his head back and placed one hand on his sweaty forehead, moving his hair back, continuing to grunt into the air.
He started to hump you harder, pushing you as close to him as possible. You’d never seen him act so animalistic, he was now whining and whimpering along with you. “Fffuck, I-I can’t take it anymore” his eyes were rolling into the back of his head, his mouth now covered by his hand to try to not be so loud, his words now muffled. “Pound me before I lose my mind”, you yelped.
He removed his hand from his mouth and placed it on yours, already knowing you’d be screaming the second he entered you. Without wasting another second, he ripped a hole in your underwear and one in his, and with one sharp thrust, he was all the way in you. He fucked you at a brutal pace, and he was either cursing or moaning under his breath with each thrust into your wetness. The familiar feeling pooled down in your stomach, and with only one more thrust, the rubber band snapped. You were screaming for him to fuck you faster under your breath, knowing it probably wasn’t even possible.
It had already been a minute and it was clear he had no intention of slowing down, even with sweat dripping all the way down both of your bodies. He laughed a little, with nothing but lust in his voice. “Brazen brats get fucked ruthlessly into the mattress. Be sure to remember that next time you act up again.” His voice sent you over the edge again and you clenched down hard around his dick, both of you letting out a moan. His thighs were slapping against your ass so hard you were bound to be left with bruises. “I had a goal…” you moaned in between your sentence. “…and I knew how to achieve it,” you said into his hand.
He struck your already sore ass, and you yelped out in pain. He did it again, this time a little harder, earning another yelp followed by a soft sob from you. All the while, he was still fucking you at the same pace. You were already exhausted, you had cum multiple times and now he was about to break you. “Beg for me to stop.” He slapped the tender spot again. “Please stop!” You were a whining, sweaty, crying mess. “And why do you want me to stop?” He spanked you again, and you bit down on his fingers. “Fffffuck, because it hurts…. So bad.” You were barely able to catch your breath at this point. He laughed and put his hand in your hair, pulling your head backwards.
“Now, beg for me to cum in you.” His breathing and grunting were now completely out of his control. “It sounds like you’re going to even if I don’t.” He slowed down a little and you felt him start to slide out, the feeling of being full of him now leaving. “I’m sorry! Please don’t stop, cum in me Alastor, please… cum in me… over and over again. Fill me.” Like he had done before, he promptly thrusted inside of you again, and picked up at the same pace he once was. Your hips were now synchronized with his movements, driving him even more insane.
Somehow, he went even faster, and with each thrust, his whimpers and groaning strung out longer each time, and he was clearly about to break himself. Purposely, you clenched around him, and immediately after you felt his warm cum coating your insides and some even spilling out of you. Both of you, completely overwhelmed and in complete ecstasy, didn’t even care anymore and let out noises neither of you even knew were humanly possible.
He finally removed himself from you, and you were slightly less upset at the feeling of being empty again because his cum had filled your entire insides. He sighed heavily, and took a look at the mess both of you had made. “I will be more than happy to fulfill your request of cumming inside of you multiple times,” he took a long exhale before continuing. “…but you may have to allow me a second to recover.” You turned around and crawled over to him, the sight of that alone starting to make him hard again. You wrapped your arms around his small waist and pulled him closer to you, giving him a soft kiss. “Yeah, me too.” You both laughed.
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solbaby7 · 3 months
Note
Holy mother of pearl I need a part 3 of blurred lines like I need air to breathe
as you wish. but this lil blurb is it y’all 🤣
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[ part 1 ] [ part 2 ]
Rhysand was being obnoxious.
Unreasonably jealous and filled with a need like no other—almost comparable to the one induced by the powder that still burned in your system—his mouth wouldn’t stop latching to the marks Azriel had sucked into your neck. “Don’t get all quiet on me now,” Rhys huffs out, teeth nipping at your ear from behind.
Water sloshes over the edge of the tub, soaking the floor and the clothes scattered in it but neither of you can find it in you to care. Not when Rhys’ cock felt so deep, fucking into the swollen mess of your pussy like it was the first time all over again. “Azriel’s still here. It’s rude.”
“Don’t,” He’s vicious in his reprimand, guiding you up and down the girthy length of him with ease. Nails bite into already bruised flesh but the relief overrides the temporary discomfort. “—ever say another males name while I’m fucking you.”
A low hum dips in your throat. “Jealousy’s sexy on you, High Lord.” The soft fat of your breasts drag against the rising muscles of his chest, manicured nails raking through strands of silky obsidian. “Worried he did a better job? Lived up to the rumors about those great, big wings of his?”
The hand that splays across the length of your neck is unforgiving when he pulls you in closer, noses touching and breath mingling when a growl grows in his chest. It should spark fear, force your heartbeat to rise but all you feel is the electrifying tingle of anticipation. “Did he?”
“Maybe,” You shrug, feigning nonchalance but you can feel the twitch of his cock from inside you. There’s no friction, just fullness as your arms remain looped over broad shoulders, cool air nipping at wet skin. “Can’t remember—was a little out of it.”
“Is that right?” Rhysand’s eyes glaze over a moment, a dark smirk forming on regal features. Through the drug induced haze, you have half the sense to notice the shift in the air. Gone is the mate willing to offer endless coddling and comforting words crooned into the sensitive spot below your ear. Sweet touches are replaced with the all-consuming power that made Rhys the most dangerous of all the High Lords; dark magic cloaking the bathing chamber in pitch black, cutting off all sense of sight and distorting sound. “Shall I give you a refresher?”
Familiar talons tease at the barrier of your mental walls, itching to sink in and take the reins. Goosebumps swarm your skin despite the warmth of the water lapping at your legs. “Do as you please—take notes if you must.”
Your mates leniency towards your steadily growing snark seems to dwindle with each sentence spoken and he’s less than gentle when breaching the boundaries of your mind, rooting around as if he owned the place. Rhys yanks the offending memory forward, his presence lingering at your back, breath tickling at your neck as you’re forced to watch with him.
Watch you and Azriel—the fucked out glaze in your eye. The moans and hoarse screams for it harder. Deeper. “It surprises me that you could’ve forgotten this,” Rhysand taunts, chuckling to himself at the pliant lean of your body when his hands mimic Azriel’s. Fingers pinch at hardened nipples, copying the cruel pace set until witty remarks fizzled away; all the spark snuffed out by alluring darkness and the delicious drag of Rhysand’s cock inside of you. Your eyes begin to flutter closed when a hand curls around your jaw, face forcefully raised to keep watching. “Pay attention,” The rasp in his tone shoots right between your thighs and it’s impossible to resist wiggling your hips, meeting every thrust until you swore you could feel both of them at the same time. “Don’t look away,” He commands, barely winded. “Or I’ll stop and leave you here to ride this out on your own.”
Thank the Mother he was standing behind you, unable to catch the harsh bite of your lip and the pitiful wobble of your chin. But still, you obeyed. Never tearing your eyes away for even a second as Rhysand fucked into you, hands gripping at your hips and wandering the length of your body before the touches began to lose its synchronicity. “It’s so deep,” The whine is abruptly cut off, a palm pressed against your lips as he manually silences you.
“That’s not what you said to him.” One finger raised from your face to point at the memory, Azriel’s gruff words muffled by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Every nerve burns, muscles screaming with tension as that coil tightened more and more and more in the pit of your belly. “I thought you were worried about Az hearing you, pretty girl?” Your neck cranes as he pulls your back flush to his chest, resting your head on his shoulder but the devastating thrust of his hips don’t stop and the angle threatens to force your eyes closed. “Don’t be fucking rude.”
It’s torture; trying to remain quiet with so much happening. You swear you can feel Azriel’s hands on your body, skipping past Rhys’ own while twin tongues taste at your neck. Your sounds muffle against his palm, water splashing and skin slapping until four hands became too much for one body.
“He didn’t fuck you like this,” The High Lord all but snarls in your ear, two strong fingers rubbing at your clit in firm circles. “Say it.”
“He didn’t—“ You stammer over the words, garbled syllables rumbling against the hand that slides back down to your throat and the memory is shoved away; tucked in a box and lock deep within the corners of your mind. “He didn’t fuck me like this. Not how you do.”
Plush lips kiss at sweat-slick cheeks, tongue claiming at the line of your jaw and teeth sink into the already bruised expanse of your neck. “Now say it like you mean it.”
It’s too much, the teasing and that possessive bite in his grip. “No one does it like you, Rhys.” You’re so close, fingers digging into the edge of the tub, back arching into him as you teetered that line—coil threatening to give at any second. “No one ever will.”
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charmercharm3r · 10 months
Text
Now go to sleep
BC
Masterlist
warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, bf!chan, piv, fingering, idk witty banter cus he's such a cute meanie like that, idk he's been so teasing on bubble lately I couldn't help myself so ..here..
☆゚
"I'm tired, I'm not going to argue about this."
"I'm tired too, but I can be tired and still care about our relationship!"
Chan had gotten home a half hour ago and was barely stripping his outside clothes, head caught in his shirt when the words left your mouth. He could be menacing when he wanted to be.
Take now, for example. He'd finally wrangled himself out of the material and hadn't even slipped it off his arms when he turned his body to stop and stare at you like you'd just said you committed armed robbery. Brows slightly furrowed, lips pouting at you, Chan had the "fuck around and find out" look down to a T.
"Don't go there." Tone of voice, too. Menacing.
"Don't make me."
But there was the attitude right back. He deserved it for ignoring you the past week, you'd been so understanding until now. You'd reminded him every week for a month until this past Saturday the day he specifically took off so that you could have one date night. Just one. It was the only thing you've asked for since your birthday. And he still forgot.
Forgot or prioritized something else- probably work related- you didn't know or care.
"You promised," your voice shook slightly.
"So did you. You promised you'd understand."
"I've been understanding. You've been ignoring. Me."
The annoyed brow ruffle softened as did the rest of his face when the tears started to well up in your eyes. You didn't wanna cry in front of him, it was the last thing you wanted to add onto his already heavy weighted shoulders, but you couldn't help it. "It's not just your life.
"We sleep in the same bed. We share the same bathroom. You use my shampoo and I steal your hoodies. Sometimes you take my socks from the drawer and it makes you a minute late 'cus you have to make the trip back to the bedroom. Sometimes I accidentally grab your towel after a shower because it's steamy in the bathroom and I can't see, then you shower after me and get confused and use my towel instead. It's probably my fault, but it's not just your life."
Chan dropped his shirt to the floor, annoyance being replaced with guilt. He had been ignoring you, but not purposefully. He knew about date night and let his boss, his colleagues, everyone get in his head that the only way to prove himself and his capabilities was to work himself to death. Death by heartbreak because the sadness that radiated off of you was so painful he was sure that that was exactly what was happening to him.
He took the few steps to stand in front of you and reach out to cup your cheeks, thumb catching the slowly rolling tear. "Your towel is softer, anyways."
You hated how easily he could make things better, laughing and sniffling as you leaned your head into his palms. "I wash our towels together, that doesn't even make sense."
Kisses were smothering your face in the next moment, warmth making the tears fizzle from behind your waterline to be replaced by the need to grab him, hold onto him and never let go. You melted in his arms so quickly, there was no evidence that you'd been crying in the first place.
And when he kissed your lips, you forgot why you were sad in the first place. For a second, at least. The lingering hurt was still there, not as potent, but definitely still there.
"I like using your towel because it's yours," he murmured into your mouth, hands wandering down to press your body against his shirtless one. "Your shampoo smells better than mine. Still smell it throughout the day and think of you." Guided back onto the bed, he covered you entirely to shield you away.
Kisses on both cheeks. "Your socks are cute." Kisses down your neck. "I know they're yours because of the colorful designs." Kisses to your palms and finger tips. Down your body and stealing your top away to plant more across the expanse of your belly until your body started to overheat. "I take them on purpose."
"Then you grumble at me when you're late on purpose, too?" You were teasing back, if the smile you wore was anything to go by.
"Yeah, to get you to kiss me before I leave. You forget if I don't."
"Why don't you just ask me, then?"
"It tastes a little sweeter when you think you came up with the idea on your own." Chan smirked back up at you before venturing further to rid you of your bottoms so that you were left bare before him.
You would never admit it to him, but you forgave him as soon as his shirt came off. You just like when he works for your forgiveness, it reminds you that he does still truly care.
"You're still wearing pants," you breathed heavily when he spread your legs so he could slot between them, the rough denim brushing your aching core.
"Mhm," he mumbled back.
"Take them off."
Chan stopped his kissing rampage and pulled back with that fucking look that made you want to slap him silly. "Why should I?"
It was your turn to be annoyed. "Because I'm trying to fuck my boyfriend."
"Vulgar," he teased, placing a cheeky peck to the tip of your nose. "How badly do you want it?"
Tender touches roamed your thighs and love handles, getting you into a position on your back you knew rather well with him as your partner in it. "Not want, need."
Chan chuckled against your skin, burning like hot coal in the path he took further south, past your cunt and down your legs to pepper kisses around your calves and ankles as he sat up, taking your limbs with him. He maneuvered you to hang your legs over his shoulders so he looked down at you. "Is that really all it took, baby?"
"You haven't done anything yet. I'm still upset."
He bit his lip and raked his eyes up and down your body. "I see how it is."
Cryptic as always, he never gave away more than necessary.
But his body language is impossible to misread. Through his jeans, you could see the tent in his pants that you knew was probably painfully rubbing against the harsh material. He wanted it as badly as you did, but didn't want to be the first one to cave.
Before he could move again, you locked your ankles around his neck and tugged him down, "you were being so nice to me, what happened?"
"Make a little more noise for me, baby."
His hands had snuck their way to your core, fingers running through your folds before you had processed his words. You were doing exactly as he asked, not by choice. He provoked the noises out of you with precise, practiced moves against your clit, practically stringing them out of you like another one of his musical instruments.
"Please," you whined, threading your fingers in his hair hoping he'd cave.
Chan laughed again, "I don't think so. Not loud enough."
Prodding against your hole made another whimper crack through your restraint. You weighed your options and both would lead to an orgasm, you were sure. But you didn't know which route you wanted take more- letting him talk you down into submission or teasing him back until he fucked you into it.
Then his fingers broke the surface, plunging into you slow but deeply. The stretch was already proving to be more than you could handle, head falling back into the mattress and letting chants of his name fill the room. Chan loved it, drooling over how easily he got you under his reign.
"Baby, please. Wan' it," you grabbed his hand to halt his ministrations. Chan laughed at your sudden flip in attitude.
"Fine," he feigned compliance, knowing he would give you anything you asked for if you kept looking at him like he held your world in his hands.
He did, but he doesn't need to know that just yet.
Chan unzipped his pants and shoved them down his hips along with his boxers, just enough to let his cock spring free. Clearly, he was barely containing himself seeing as leaking precum made his tip glisten.
"Here," he presented himself like a present, not moving. Chan simply waited for you to take what you wanted. When you did, he smiled, proudly this time.
You used the leverage on his shoulders to scoot down the bed and reached between your bodies to let him slip past your entrance. Oh, he fit like a perfectly tailored glove, every time.
He let you use him, only providing some stabilization as you fucked yourself back and forth, up and down, any which way you could to reach the high you so desperately needed from him. Until you couldn't anymore. All you had to do was stop, let out a huff, and look up at him with those fucking eyes, and Chan folded.
Literally folded, hunching over you and cooing, "okay, okay. I'll do all the work. Only because you look so cute when you try to fuck me."
He didn't need to go very fast, just the right angle to press your sweet spot like a button. The wet, pornographic sounds of your bodies pulling apart and colliding, with his name falling from your lips and his noises of pure pleasure, it wasn't very long until the both of you were arching into one another and letting the euphoric waves crash onto shore.
Chan slumped onto you, bodies tired and feeling entirely too cuddly to clean up any more. Doing the bare minimum and kicking off his pants while not even bothering to pull out, he laid his head into the crook of your neck and smothered you entirely.
"Date night. This weekend." You grumbled into his hair, getting comfortable.
"Whatever you want. Now go to sleep," Chan nuzzled his nose into your skin, letting your warmth take over his senses.
Draping your arms over his shoulders and holding him close with a kiss on the top of his head, you mumbled back, "don't tell me what to do."
☆゚
tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut @straykids5star
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siameanee · 11 months
Text
take your time 🎸 hobie brown x fem!reader
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DONT OPEN UR WINDOW FOR HOBIE BROWN AT 3 AM 😱😱‼️‼️💯💯 (REAL) (NOT FAKE)
i don't post. or write fanfictions. this is the first and last fanfic ill write - there just isn't enough hobie brown fics out there. hopped on and said fine ill do it myself 😞 !
also i didnt proofread this 😭
wc: idk might be long tho
tags or desc or whatevr: hobie brown x fem!reader smut, hobie smut, hobie x fem!reader, fingering (r receiving), riding, kinda slow burn (i think), friends to luvas
shmut unda the cut ‼️
-------
you sat idly in your bed, scrolling through tiktok and giggling every once in a while. you twisted and turned until your gazed lifted from the endless videos and you saw the time: 3 a.m., causing you to plug up your lit up rectangle and turn away from it, hand under the pillow and the other reaching to pull up the covers in an effort to warm your shivering body.
however, your best friend, hobie, had other plans. minutes later, your phone lit up and you flipped back over angrily, trying to get used to the flash of light in your darkened room. 
hobs 🎸
open ur window? got hurt need sum help :)
3:45 a.m.
you furrowed your brows as you leaned up to be able to type. 
hobs 🎸
open ur window in a min? got hurt need sum help
3:45 a.m.
it's 3:45 hobie ... 😭
3:46 a.m.
you waited for his response, letting out a frustrated huff when he didn't respond for a full 4 minutes. as you rested your head on the pillow once again, you heard another ping from your phone as it lit back up one more time. 
hobs 🎸
open ur window in a min? got hurt need sum help
3:45 a.m.
it's 3:45 hobie ... 😭
3:46 a.m.
*Attachment: 1 Image*
says right here 3:46 ? 
3:49 a.m.
you were about to comment on his witty remark until you heard repeated knocks on your left window. as you got up, you discovered a tall handsome male clad in a spidersuit and some plaid trousers leaning down and grinning back at you, pointing to the windowsill. opening the window, he crawls in, lifts up his mask, and lands on your desk chair, groaning.
"what ha-" you started, but you saw his face riddled with wounds and the gashes zigzagging his chest. you closed your mouth and pointed your finger to him. "stay right there, hobie. don't snoop around. i'll be right back with the first-aid kit." you ran out of the room, hearing him shout back at you.
"won't!" hobie shouts from your room, and you can hear the smile in his words.
you return with the first aid kit, and true to his word -- surprisingly, or so you think -- hobie is in the same spot. you settle in between his long, manspreaded legs, tending to his facial wounds. you try not to notice his burning gaze on you as he tilts his head up for you to tend to his wounds. you can see his adams' apple in your peripheral version and you're trying oh so hard to mind your business. to do what he asked you to. to focus. he's your best friend, and all he asked of you was to tend to his wounds.
but when your fingers start to fumble on his face and you drop a bandaid, you're forced to bend down. you're forced to bend down in between his manspreaded legs, and when your cheek accidentally grazes the tent in his trousers on the way down, you realize how difficult this is going to be and you swear you can hear something -- a sound -- emerge in his throat before he clears his throat.
you decide to ignore it however, resurfacing and continuing on his face, trying to ignore the new grin he's wearing and the telltale half-lidded eyes on display for you.
"hobie, stop." you gnaw on your lip, trying not to look at his eyes. 
"stop what?" hobie speaks, causing his grin to widen. 
"whatever the hell you're doing." your eyes flicker to his lips as his tongue darts out to lick his lips, and you pray he didn't notice.
he shrugs and lifts up his hands in faux surrender. "haven't done a thing luv." he smiles.
however, when hobie goes to put his hands back down, they don't land back on his thighs. instead, they land on your hips. your breathing quickens and hobie seems to take notice of this because you notice his grin widens. 
after getting sidetracked and going to his chest wounds so that you wouldn't have to look at that annoyingly pretty ass face of his, you finish tending to his chest wounds and return to his facial wounds to finish sewing them back up too. but when you travel up, hobie's hands do too. his index fingers -- that were hooked under your shirt-- slide up, and he reveals your pink panties, and you catch him looking down to see the gold he's dug up.
"hobie, hands to yourself." you shakily breathe out, trying to focus on his face. you said all this, but you also made no effort to remove his hands off of you, and he seems to have realized.
"yeah? should i really now? you can remove 'em at any time, luv. but you're not. why is that?" he tilts his head to the side to give you better access to a particular wound. you refuse to answer his question, so his deep voice dripping in a cockney accent emerges from his throat once more to ask the question again. "hm?" he asks, his right hand traveling to your back to arch your back and push you into him, so you can feel his boner in between your legs, and this elicits a short, cut off whimper out of you that he obviously takes pride in, as his smile is now handsomely toothy.
"fu-- hobie, please," your hands falter as you continue flimsily working on his face.
"please wha'?" hobie says. "gotta tell me what you want. use your words, huh?" and with that, he hooks his long fingers under your pretty pink panties, tracing the rim. 
his eyes never left yours as he did all of this, and it was apparent to you that he had no shame. 
but you didn't either, because when his fingers were removed from the band of your panties, you whined for him. for the loss of his touch where you needed it most. 
"do you need something?" hobie questions, innocently raising his eyebrow, hands traveling to graze your stomach.
you shake your head, biting your lip, scared to open your mouth just incase anything unwanted slipped out.
"good." he says, grinning from ear to ear as his hand dips to your pooling cunt, nearly dripping on the floor as he pulls your panties to the side, leaving you hissing and your hands fumbling on his face.
"oh no, can't have that doc. pay attention baby. i like how my face looks," he says cockily, rubbing tight circles around your clit.
"mh', hobie, please..." you say, starting to lose feeling in the cold tips of your fingers. 
"told ya to use your words luv." he says, dipping one nimble finger into your dripping hole, eliciting a moan out of you and he seems to swallow it as it leaves your throat.
it wasn't long before he slipped another finger into you, fucking you on his fingers slowly, refusing to curl his fingers up to hit that spot of yours that you needed so badly. you set your tools aside and he stopped moving completely, tutting at you before you picked the tools back up, and he resumed his slow, torturous pace in your cunt. 
"jus' like that baby," he coos after you finish closing up another wound, struggling to keep your composure as his pace starts to go at a cut-throat speed, his digits expertly doing a 'come here' motion against your gummy walls, making you drop your tools once more. he returns to your clit and picks up his pace -- as if it wasn't fast enough already --, making you moan and squirm on his deft fingers. "hobie--" you start, getting cut off by a moan as your grip on his shoulders tighten. "fuck-- please, please, please, please.." you chant. you noticed his gaze wasn't on yours anymore, it was on the way your slick pooled in his palm so mesmerizingly. 
"fuck... that's it baby." he said as you broke apart on his fingers after one more thrust up into your dripping cunt, causing you to cum all over his fingers, all for him, on him, leaving you moaning and shaking on his fingers.
his gaze returned to yours, your face furrowed and your lips glistening from spit, hobie looked you in the eye, making sure you saw him lick all of your taste off of his long fingers, leaving his mouth with an overly lewd 'pop' sound. he then reached for you and pulled you closer to make out with you, exchanging spit. you could taste yourself on his tongue, causing you to moan into his mouth. 
you thought you were done, and you were in bliss, making out with hobie brown, forgetting all about his boner. he was going to make sure you took care of it just like he took care of you, which is why he unzipped his trousers and let you feel his cock spring up rubbing against your stomach. 
you looked down in shock. there was no way that was going to fit in you. he was crazy. "hobie, that's not gonna fit," you say, gaze fixated on his angry red tip.
"yes it is luv. jus' sit on it, yeah?" hobie says, motioning to it. 
you lift your hips, folds grazing the head of his dick. you start to sink down on it, and you let out a loud moan when the tip entered you. you refused to move anymore, looking at him with furrowed brows before he tore his gaze from where you two conjoined and looked at your facial expression.
"fine... gotta do everythin' me fuckin' self don't i?" hobie mumbles, before grabbing onto your hips and slamming you down onto the base of his cock, causing a loud moan and mixed in whimpers to rip out of you. 
"shit... hobs..." you say, resting your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and indulging in the full feeling. 
this only lasted for a couple of seconds due to how impatient your best friend was. soon, you heard a laugh followed by an "i know. fuckin' mesmerizin' innit?" hobie says, lifting your hips on his cock, before pushing you back down, eliciting a whimper out of your chest, causing you to reemerge and start bouncing yourself on his cock.
"fuck yes..." hobie says, groaning. "jus' like that baby. c'mon."
this made you bounce faster and start moving your hips around. hobie started to meet you in the middle with thrusts, the air becoming hot and steamy and filled with the mixture of your moans.
"oh my.. ha--...hobie..." your nails dug into his back as he thrust up into you. he didn't respond, but he started to trace circles around that pretty little nub of yours. "gonna cum for me baby? cum for me yeah? come on, all over my dick. cum for me please, i want it so badly. need you to cum all over my dick for me, please luv," hobie shamelessly whined in your ear.
and fuck, did he get what he asked for. his words sent you over the edge, making you cum all over that long-ass dick of his, forming a pretty white ring around the base of his cock as your cum dripped and followed the winding paths of his bulging veins. he noticed your eyes were off of his and on the enchanting scene in between you both, and with that he took your jaw in his hand and forced you to look him in the eyes. "keep ye fuckin' eyes on me, yeah?" he said in between heavenly groans that made you wonder if you could get wetter than you already were.
as he fucked you through your orgasm, stars formed in your vision and tears clouded your eyes as hobie groaned into your ear. with one more jerk up into your dripping cunt, hobie -- your 'best friend', need i remind you -- spilled his seed into you, slipping out of you, carrying you to your bed and fucking all of his escaping cum right back into your cunt with two digits, sticking the same two down your throat. 
"suck." he ordered, and you followed. 
he pulled your panties right back over your slick folds and laid beside you like he didn't just take your soul from you, fuck it, and return it to your body. 
"i think i like you," is all that british motherfucker says, facing you with an annoying -- but incredibly attractive at that -- shit-eating grin.
-------
authors note:
i did this in under 3 hours dont criticize anything please ill cry
hobie brainrot is going crazy rn!!!! give him more love so i dont have to anymore!!!
hobartholomew needs to be put in jail 😞😞
2K notes · View notes
milksnake-tea · 10 months
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━━ under the lotus leaves.
You've known Dan Feng long before he became the High Elder of the Vidyadhara, before he donned the title of Imbibitor Lunae and became the legend he is known as now. Long ago, back when the two of you were mere children, playing in the waters of the Xianzhou Luofu.
imbibitor lunae (dan feng) x gn!reader
contains: childhood friends au, set before dan feng is a criminal, slow burn, long fic, ooc!character for the first half bc he's growing up and is an annoying teen, mentions of blade's real name, death, spoilers for 1.2
genres: mostly fluff, hurt/comfort, some angst bittersweet ending
word count: 8.6k
a/n: please do note that this is dan feng, not dan heng. and therefore i take a lot more liberties with how he is because i firmly believe that dan feng was more of a bitch than dan heng BYE ALSO THIS IS UNEDITED !! ILL EDIT IT TMRW WHEN I WAKE UP I JUST HAD TO GET THIS OUT BYE
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Your best friend was an extraordinary being.
There was no doubt about it. Regarded as both the strongest and wisest of your people, he was chosen as the High Elder, Imbibitor Lunae. And he has served you well.
His feats are plenty, with his joining the esteemed High-Cloud Quintet, and you couldn't count the amount of time he'd saved the Xianzhou on one hand. He was smart, intelligent, and witty, quick to understand situations and formulate the best solutions. His enemies feared his presence on the battlefield, and his friends trusted him with their lives.
As did you.
You, a mere civilian. A single face among thousands of Vidyadhara, another footstep among the crowd. You, who have lived through his past and present. You, who knew him better than he knew himself.
You, who has been by his side since the very beginning.
It was a stormy day when you first met Dan Feng.
You were just a child back then, a Vidyadhara only eight years of age. Normally, at this stage in your life, you'd be guided by the current high elder, but it seems that you had undergone your cycle at the same time as the past high elder.
So as life would have it, you would instead be raised by your seniors, while the Preceptors tended to the newly reborn high elder. A skilled weaver in your past incarnation, you were taken in by your then coworkers, and raised within your craft of making lotus silk.
As such, your childhood was filled with looms, lotus flowers, and spinning threads. You spent your free time in the gardens of lotus flowers, hiding from your caretakers amongst the tall stems and diving into the waters to swim amongst them. You may not have had the draconic features of the High Elder, but you still adored the water like any other Vidyadhara.
And as it would seem, so did the High Elder.
It had been a hot and sunny day at the Luofu. The rays were smoldering on your back as you waded through the lotus fields, thankful for the cold water splashing against your legs. You squinted against the sun, adjusting your leaf hat on your head. Tucked against your arm was a woven basket filled with lotus stems, all of which would have fiber extracted from them.
The tall leaves and flowers of the lotuses dwarfed your child self in comparison, although you weren’t complaining. Although the water sloshed around your thighs, requiring you to roll up your pants more than your older coworkers, the leaves served as temporary relief from the sun’s rays.
You pushed stems aside, the field looking more akin to a jungle to you. You only needed one more before you could return home to the comfort of an air conditioner in order to extract the fibers for the threads. Thankfully, that wouldn’t have to wait long.
Once you found a suitable stem to harvest, you snapped it from its roots and began to wash it in the water. Your basket floated next to you, you keeping an eye on it to make sure it wouldn’t float away.
But then, you heard the stems rustle, and the waters splashing as something entered your field. Immediately, you stood up straight, holding the lotus stem more like a weapon than a crop.
“Who’s there?” you called out, your voice ringing through the silent and tranquil fields.
No response.
You huffed, carefully setting down your stem in the basket. Whoever it was probably thought you weren’t a threat merely because of your age. You’d prove them wrong.
You heard the stems rustle one more time, snapping your head towards the source. Picking up your basket, you marched over to a large clump of lotuses, a perfect hiding spot (you would know, you’ve used it many times before). A shadow around your size moved within them, submerging itself into the water.
You rolled your eyes. Another kid, then. 
Pushing the stems aside, you saw the flicker of a draconic tail splashing the water, almost wagging as its owner lay face-first in the murky water. Without a second thought, you set aside your basket, grabbed the tail with your grubby little hands, and pulled hard.
“OW!”
The tail’s owner toppled out of the water, crashing into you in the process and knocking your foreheads together. You yelped, falling into the water with a splash as you held your aching forehead.
“What was that for?!” A child-like voice, much like your own berated you, a whine in his tone.
Glaring through your tears, you shouted back at him. “That was for bumming around on my farm!”
Your victim/intruder, a young boy with long hair, met your glare with equal fire. “I wasn’t ‘bumming around’, I was just… Cooling off! It’s hot today.”
You squinted, clearly not impressed. “I don’t care what you were doing! You’re not doing it on my farm.”
He lashed his tail angrily, splashing you in the process. “I’m the High Elder. I do what I want.”
You stared at him for a good second, taking in his appearance. He was a Vidyadhara around your age, only he had draconic-like horns protruding from his head. His long black hair flowed around him, and his fancy white robes were drenched in lotus water. It would’ve been obvious to anyone that he was a noble, someone of higher standing.
“No you’re not,” you said, deadpanning. “You’re too small.”
The self-proclaimed High Elder flushed red with embarrassment, jumping to his feet.
“I’m still growing!” he insisted, stamping his feet and splashing water everywhere.
“The High Elder’s supposed to be big and powerful!” you said, throwing your arms in the air to emphasize your point. “You’re… a kid!”
“You’re a kid too-!” The High Elder froze in the middle of his sentence, his tail stiffening at the sound voices - adult voices. Quickly, he grabbed you by the collar of your robe and pulled you into the shadows of the clump.
“Hey-!” He slapped his hand over your mouth to shut you up. In retaliation, you licked at his hand, the young boy recoiling in disgust.
“Did you just lick me?!” he hissed, looking at his hand in horror. 
“You’re the one who just grabbed me-”
“Shh!!” He put a finger to his mouth, shushing you. “Be quiet! Can’t you see I’m hiding?”
“From what, the Cloud Knights?” you gasped, backing up. “Are you a criminal?!”
He gave you a look. “No! I told you, I’m the High-”
“High Elder? Are you there?”
This time, you both slapped a hand over each other’s mouths. An unfamiliar adult voice shouted over the fields, calling for the boy beside you. You both waited with bated breath as the man searched on the other side of the field, only letting go when he was far enough away.
“You weren’t lying?” you whispered excitedly, looking up at the boy with newfound respect. He crossed his arms, looking all high and mighty now.
“Why would I be lying?” he said matter-of-factly. “You were the one who didn’t believe me.”
You really wanted to make a witty comment, but then you remembered your stems, floating out in the sun. Panic seized you. You couldn’t let those stems dry. If they did, they’d be useless to you.
You jumped to your feet, hurriedly running to your stems. Thankfully, they were still where you left them, and in the shade. You sighed in relief, knowing that you would live to see another day.
You peeked your head over the lotus heads, spotting the man who was calling for the High Elder. He was wearing some pretty fancy robes himself, the robes you recognized as belonging to a Preceptor.
Cradling your basket once again, you walked back to where the High Elder was hiding. He looked up at you in surprise as you reached towards what used to be a preening lotus flower, now a pod filled with green seeds. 
You snapped it off the stem and popped out one of the seeds. After peeling the green skin to reveal the white center, you handed it to the High Elder.
“Want one?”
The High Elder was wary at first, but eventually took the seed. He chewed it in his mouth for a little bit, his eyes brightening at the taste.
“It’s sweet,” he said in surprise. You nodded, taking one for yourself before giving him the pod.
“You have the rest on this one,” you said. You pointed in the direction of the Preceptor. “The big guy looking for you is over there, by the way.”
“Oh.” He took the pod in his hands, still a bit freaked out by how it looked. “Thank you.”
“Master always said I have to make it up when I do something bad,” you said, picking up your stems. With a start, the High Elder seemed to realize that you were apologizing. “Anyway, I have to go now. The fibers will dry up if I stay out here too long.”
“Wait!” The High Elder called out, reaching for you. You turned around, raising a brow. His tail waved nervously behind him as his hand faltered. “What’s your name?”
As you answered him, in the back of your head, you could’ve sworn you’d read this scene before. 
You tilted your head curiously. “What’s yours?”
His expression was strange. It was a smile of relief and happiness, just from you not knowing his name. The waters responded to his joy, swirling gently around him.
“Dan Feng,” he said, his tail wagging slightly. “My name is Dan Feng.”
You remember seeing him dragged out of the fields a few hours later. You had been extracting fibers from the stems you’d collected when you’d heard the commotion. 
Dan Feng was having his ear talked off by the Preceptor, but he was being awfully obedient. The two of you had met gazes, and he had sheepishly waved at you. Your hands were busy with your work, so all you could do was giggle at his predicament.
Of course, that wouldn’t be the last time you saw the High Elder - far from it. 
Dan Feng would visit your farm often, whether it was for eating more lotus seeds, dragging you to go swim with him, or just to watch you work. Your mentors and coworkers grew accustomed to seeing the young Vidyadhara waiting for you outside the workshop.
All of his visits would end in the same way - a Preceptor would come and take him away for his studies, droning on about his duty as the High Elder while Dan Feng rolled his eyes behind their back.
It wasn’t like he hated his duty. You knew better than anyone that Dan Feng took pride in his role, he was just… stubborn.
“What are you doing?”
You flinched at the boy in question’s voice. Dan Feng was practically talking in your ears, his face right next to yours. You leaned away, batting away at him.
“None of your business,” you said, turning your back towards him as to hide your hands. Dan Feng pouted but didn’t push.
“If you say so.” He turned his gaze back to the open fields. His legs kicked as he dangled on the stone wall alongside you.
You sat in comfortable silence, feeling as the spring breeze blew gently around you. It was tranquil and quiet, as the lotus fields always were.
Dan Feng found he preferred it that way. It was nice to get away from the droning words of the Preceptors, and this little farm served as his favorite sanctuary. He could spend his days here forever, just being by your side.
His eyes shifted towards you again. You were oddly concentrated today, he noted, working on whatever was in your hands right now. It was unlike you to be so quiet. Usually, you’d be talking about the latest gossip you’d heard from your mentors, or complaining about the weather again.
He strained his neck, trying to see just what was taking your attention away from him. But alas, you saw him and snatched it away from him again. Frustrated, he blew at his hair, lashing his tail in impatience.
Oh, well. If you weren’t going to show him, you weren’t going to show it. It wasn’t like he wanted to see it anyways.
Dan Feng went back to spacing out, closing his eyes, crossing his legs, and focusing on the world around him. If he wasn’t going to do anything, he might as well meditate.
He reached his senses into the fields, losing himself in the environment. His ears were filled with the rustle of each individual leaf, the soft splashing of water, the croak of the frogs, and the buzzing of insects that inhabited the fields.
He could feel how the wind felt on every plant, the warmth of the sun not just on his skin, but on the skin of the other aquatic animals. At that moment, Dan Feng became one with the world. Nothing could break his concentration.
Nothing, except perhaps for you, who was trying to grab his hand as stealthily as possible.
Dan Feng snapped his eyes open when you took his left hand in yours. Apparently, you were too engrossed in your task to notice his eyes on you.
You slid something onto his ring finger. Dan Feng tilted his head, raising his hand to stare at whatever it was you put on him.
A band of woven grasses encircled his finger, the braid intricate and tight. Dan Feng looked at it in confusion, rotating his hand to get a better view of it.
“Do you like it?” you said proudly.
“What is it?” he asked, bringing it to his face to observe.
“It’s a ring,” you said obviously. You showed him your dominant hand, which had a matching ring on it. “I saw a couple of girls the other day with those friendship bracelets. I figured since we’ve known each other for a few years now, we should have something like that too.”
“Oh.” Dan Feng blushed at your words, a giddy feeling bubbling within his chest. Suddenly, the ring on his finger felt heavier, but also much, much warmer.
“It’s nice, right?” you hummed, holding your hand to the sky. “I mean, it’s not like one of those beads you can just buy, but I think it’s pretty special.”
“I love it.” Dan Feng beamed softly, holding his hand close to his chest. “I’ll treasure it forever.”
It melted your heart to see him so ecstatic over something as simple as a grass ring. He was quite literally glowing from happiness, his draconic parts illuminating with a soft sea green.
“I’m glad,” you said, hugging your knees to your chest. 
Dan Feng looked at you, gratitude brimming in his eyes. He didn’t reach out to hug you (although he certainly wanted to), but rather, only wrapped his tail around your waist, tugging you closer to him.
You loved Dan Feng, you really did. But sometimes, you really wanted to tie him up and throw him in a ditch.
You sigh loudly in frustration, jabbing at Dan Feng’s wound with an alcohol-infused pad. The boy in question hissed in pain at your actions.
“Would it kill you to be gentler?” he attempted to jolt away, but your hold on his arm was firm.
It had been many years since you two had first met. The two of you were adolescents now, nearing adulthood.
Dan Feng had appeared at your doorstep after training once again to escape his mentors, only this time with a bloodied gash on his shoulder. He’d tried to hide it from you, but to little success.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone about this?” you shot back, angrily wrapping his wound with bandages. Dan Feng averted his gaze.
“It wasn’t anything they needed to know,” he said quietly. You paused in your wrapping to stare at him incredulously.
“Are you kidding me?!” You pulled on the bandages, tightening them. Dan Feng winced at your loud voice, waving his hand for you to quiet down. Granted, you did, but you still decided on berating him.
“Feng'er, this is serious,” you said through gritted teeth. “It’s not one of those scratches you can just lick away. What if it had gotten infected?”
Dan Feng sighed, opting to stay silent and instead watch you work. Despite your harsh tone, he knew that you were just worried about him. He didn’t blame you, the wound was pretty serious.
His eyes softened as he saw your hands trembling as they worked. Your face was a mask of angry calm, but he could see the shake in your eyes.
“...sorry.”
You blinked. “What was that?”
Dan Feng dropped his gaze guiltily. “I’m sorry. I made you worry.”
“When do you not make me worry?” you joke, tying the bandage into a bow. Dan Feng smiled sheepishly.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, touching your hand with his tail. “How should I make it up to you this time?”
“Hm…” You pondered the question, tapping at your chin before brightening with an idea. “I got it. How about showing me that little trick you were bragging to me about earlier, with the cloudhymm?”
Dan Feng laughed airily. “You always ask for that.”
“Well, no one around here knows cloudhymm except for you,” you said, crossing your legs on the floor. Your eyes practically glowed in anticipation - Dan Feng wanted to compare you to a puppy awaiting a treat. 
The thought made his lips twitch as he held back his laugh. You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging him eagerly.
“So pushy,” he said dramatically, but you knew he was just teasing. He sat up straight, smoothed out his robes, and without further ado, he began his personal spectacle for you.
With just a flick of his finger, water materialized around him, taking the form of white lotus flowers in the air. Droplets stilled, as though someone had stopped time in the middle of a rainstorm.
You’ve seen this view many times before, but you were still amazed each and every time. A lotus flower hovered in front of you, bursting into a cloud of mist as you touched it.
You giggled, leaning back onto your hands, watching the lotuses drift off into the air. Unbeknownst to you, Dan Feng was preparing a whole nother surprise for you.
As your attention was captured by the lotuses, Dan Feng swirled his finger in the air. His signature teal water erupted in a spiral, taking the form of a roaring dragon. You jumped in surprise as it circled around you, flying toward the ceiling.
Dan Feng made the dragon dance around the lotuses, even bumping against your cheek. You squeaked as it did, light-heartedly glaring at Dan Feng. He only smirked back at you, before he enraptured your gaze with the dragon once again.
It glided towards the ceiling again, curling into a glowing orb of water. Dan Feng made a fist, and the dragon and the lotuses burst into a fine mist, making rainbows in the late evening light.
You were glimmering with awe, a permanent smile fixed onto your lips as you reached towards the ceiling to catch the mist. It was cool against your skin, like a little kiss from the rain.
“Am I forgiven now?” Dan Feng asked, amused.
You rolled your eyes. “Only if you promise to tell someone the next time you get injured.”
Dan Feng laughed. “Yes, yes, of course.”
You turned to look at him, only to find that he had been watching you this entire time, a fond smile on his lips.
“Are you sure about this?”
Dan Feng whispered anxiously as you skillfully maneuvered through dark alleyways and streetlights, your hand clasped tightly in his. 
He kept looking back behind him, just to make sure that you weren’t being followed. He’d changed his appearance somewhat, making sure to hide his horns and tail, but he was still paranoid.
“Obviously!” you chirped back. You didn’t bother looking back at him, currently fixated on your destination - a crowd of bright lights, the smell of food, and the chatter of people. In other words, the night market.
Dan Feng let himself be dragged off by you, trusting that you knew these streets better than he did. He looked urgently back at you.
“When we get caught-”
“If we get caught,” you corrected, stopping momentarily to pull Dan Feng towards you. You let go of his hand to hold his face, pulling him to meet yours. “You trust me, right?”
Dan Feng sighed. “Yes, but-”
You squished his cheeks, effectively shutting him up. “No ‘buts’. What happened to the kid who would sneak off to swim in my farm?”
Dan Feng gave you a look, but with his face all squished up like that, you couldn’t take him seriously. Fighting down a giggle, you squeezed him one last time before letting go.
“Trust me on this,” you insisted, the lights of the market illuminating your back. “You couldn’t have lived for this long and not have been to the night market. You’ll love it, I promise.”
“And if I don’t?” Dan Feng hummed. You snorted, interlacing your fingers with his once again.
“Then I’ll do whatever you want later, alright?”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Dan Feng squinted as you pulled him into the depths of the market, the bright lights blinding him momentarily. The savory aroma of grilled meat and fried vegetables wafted into his nose, the chatter of friends, families, and lovers filling the air. The two of you were practically consumed by the crowd, the only thing keeping him from being swept away was your hand in his.
It was overwhelming, but not in a bad way. Dan Feng’s eyes widened with wonder as he took in the atmosphere around him. He wasn’t used to so many people being in one place, at the same time. In the lotus fields and in his palace, things were always quiet, still.
He could see children playing silly games with one another, jewelers selling their handcrafted trinkets, and so many street chefs, cooking right on the spot over open flames.
A tug on his hand broke him out of his stupor. You had been watching him all this time, a knowing smile on your face. You tugged him over to a stand that was selling what looked to be skewered balls of meat, dripping with a sweet glaze.
“They’re berrypheasant skewers,” you explained. You noticed Dan Feng’s disgruntled look and nudged him. “Don’t worry, it’s just the fruit that comes off their tails. They didn’t actually kill anything.”
“Oh… I see.” Dan Feng relaxed a bit after hearing that. You gave him a smile before talking to the vendor. Once you had acquired your skewers, you grabbed his hand once more, moving to a secluded corner of the market to enjoy them.
You wasted no time in biting off one of the fruit balls, closing your eyes in delight as you let it slowly melt in your mouth.
“That’s amazing,” you sighed in contentment, leaning back on a wall. You opened your eyes to see Dan Feng silently chewing on his. “How is it?”
“Sweet,” he said, swallowing it. “It’s not bad. Although, I prefer lotus seeds.”
“Really?” you asked, finishing off your skewer. “I like these better. Or maybe that’s because I’ve spent my whole life eating lotus seeds.”
“Perhaps,” Dan Feng agreed. He looked off in the direction of the market. “This place, it’s…”
“Loud?” you jested. Dan Feng chuckled.
“That too,” he admitted, “but the word I had in mind was ‘comfortable’.”
You hummed in agreement. “Well,” you said, pushing yourself off the wall. “We’ve only just scratched the surface. Are you ready?”
Dan Feng nodded. “Let’s go.”
Whatever happened next was a blur. What had started as you dragging Dan Feng around to try different food turned into Dan Feng pulling you to whichever jewelry store caught his attention. Sometimes, you’d lose him in the crowd, and run around panicked only to find him in the middle of getting scammed (to which you’d drag him off, giving death glares to whoever decided to prey on him).
You soon learned that this was a lot more tiring task than you’d originally anticipated. It was like babysitting a toddler - one minute he’d be standing at your side, watching you as you bargained with the vendor, and the next minute, he’d be across the street, trying on some new earrings.
And to make matters worse, every time you wanted to wring Dan Feng’s throat the second you caught up to him, he’d turn to you with that stupidly pretty smile of his, showing off whatever trinkets he managed to pick up this time.
And of course, like the weak soul you were, you couldn’t stay angry at a face like that for long.
But safe to say, you were relieved when you reached the end of the market and instead came to the edges of Central Starskiff Haven, right in front of the Jade Gate. 
Here, the crowds had parted, allowing you to take a breather from your exhausting task. Of course, you were the only one who was tired - Dan Feng was vibrating with excitement, the brightest grin you’ve ever seen on his face.
“I take it you had fun?” you said good-naturedly, coming up beside your friend to watch the flow of starskiffs in and out of the Luofu. Dan Feng nodded, crossing his arms behind him.
“Most definitely,” he said happily. “The outworlder merchants have so many interesting things, I can’t help but be intrigued by them.”
“I could tell,” you chuckled. “I could barely catch up to you with the way you were running around. Imagine what the Preceptors would say.”
“We did agree that they would never find out, no?” Dan Feng pointed out. You shrugged.
“Fair enough,” you acknowledged. You gazed out into the glowing light of the Jade Gate before suddenly jolting in realization. “Lan above, I almost forgot!”
Dan Feng looked at you questioningly as you riffled through your pockets. His confusion only increased as you pulled out a small box, barely the size of your palm.
You opened it to reveal two jade rings, each with the image of a  lotus carved into its band. Dan Feng feels his breath hitch at the sight, and something in his chest tightened.
“What…” he couldn’t even finish his sentence.
“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” you said. “I figured that now would be a good time to replace the ones I made when we were kids.”
That’s right. You didn’t just choose today of all days randomly. Today was Dan Feng’s birthday, and the day he officially became of age. Today was the last day of his childhood before he would fully take on the title of Imbibitor Lunae and the responsibilities that came with being the High Elder.
You couldn’t help but feel proud as you watched him take the rings with shaking hands. He’s still that stubborn child who listens to no one but himself, but he’s become so much more. He’s grown taller, more mature, more dignified.
And yet, he still looked like he might cry from your gift. He mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t catch.
“What was that?” you asked, only to be pulled tightly into his chest. Dan Feng squeezed you into his embrace as he tried to steady his breathing.
Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his waist, melting into his hold. Such moments like these were rare, after all. The furthest Dan Feng had ever gone with you was holding hands. Hugs weren’t part of his vocabulary.
“You know…” he murmured. “In human cultures, rings symbolize marriage.”
“Well,” you laughed into his skin. “We’re not human, are we?”
“Yes, but…”
“Are you trying to propose to me, gege?” You looked up at him, raising your brow playfully. Dan Feng blushed at the nickname, averting his gaze.
“That wasn’t my intention,” he mumbled, flustered. He quickly let go of you, hiding his face behind his hand as he tried to calm his rapidly increasing heartbeat.
You snickered at him. “I know, I’m only teasing. Here, give me those; I’ll put them on for you.”
But despite your words, Dan Feng couldn’t help the burning heat that enveloped him as you took his hand delicately in yours, sliding on the ring. He couldn’t stop his heart from pounding, couldn’t stop his thoughts of newly engaged couples doing exactly what you were doing.
And most of all, he couldn’t stop thinking of how badly he wanted to kiss you in that moment.
Ever since that day, neither you nor Dan Feng have taken off your respective rings. Dan Feng always kept it hidden beneath his gloves, while you showed it off even while you worked. You’ve been asked many times who the other ring belonged to, but you’ve never given them an answer.
One of these questionees was Yingxing, a passionate young outworlder who had come to the Luofu hearing of the feats made by Vidyadhara craftsmen. You’d met through a common friend of Jingliu, one of Dan Feng’s friends in the renowned High Cloud Quintet.
While Yingxing was a blacksmith and you a weaver, the two of you hit it off immediately. The two of you bonded over creating for the members of the Quintet, with you being responsible for the threads that made up their clothes, and Yingxing their armor and weapons. Many times, when one of you had a day off, one could find you in the other’s workshop.
You coughed as smoke arose from the furnace, fanning yourself. Yingxing glanced over momentarily.
“Are you alright?” he asked, a bubbling laugh in his voice. You nodded.
“Yes, just not used to so much smoke,” you sighed. Yingxing wiped at his brow as he took out the pot from the furnace, pouring the molten metal into the mold beneath him.
“If it bothers you too much,” he advised, “you should step outside.”
You shook your head, jumping down from your spot by the window. “I’m fine, don’t worry. But enough about me, what’s this you’re making?”
“It’s a spear for the High Elder.” Yingxing moved aside as you came up next to him. “See the way the metal glows from a certain angle? That’s the remnants of the Reignbow Arbiter’s arrow.”
“Fascinating.” So this was the weapon Dan Feng would wield.
You waved away embers from your face, and for a moment, their light caught on the ring on your finger.
“You’re married?” said Yingxing in surprise. You stared at him inquisitively.
“No? What made you think that?”
“Your ring,” he said, nodding at your finger. You looked down before spurting a laugh.
“Oh, this?” You toyed with it, fidgeting it on your hand. “It’s nothing like that.”
“You don’t sound so sure,” Yingxing commented. You huff.
“I am,” you retorted, nudging him. Yingxing whined at the jab, complaining.
“Don’t you know not to provoke a man with a hammer?” he threatened good-naturedly. You, being the very mature person you are, stuck your tongue out at him.
“Yingxing?”
The sound of your best friend’s voice interrupted your play argument as the both of you perked your heads. Dan Feng bent down as he entered the forgery so as to not hit his horns on the door frame.
“Dan Feng!” Yingxing greeted, waving. “What brings you here?”
“Don’t let me disturb you,” the Vidyadhara said, his nose wrinkling at the smoke filling the forge. “I’m merely here to check on the progress of the spear.”
“It’s still in the process of being smelted, as you can see.” Yingxing pounded away at the spear, shaping it into his desired form.
“Ah, is that so?” Dan Feng nodded. “I’ll come back tomorrow, then. Keep up the good work.”
“You’re going to leave without saying hi?” you interjected, fake hurt lacing your voice. “I’m hurt, Feng’er.”
Dan Feng flinched, as though he hadn’t noticed you at all.
“[Name]?” He straightens, blinking rapidly in surprise. Yingxing swore he’d never seen the High Elder brighten so quickly - he almost didn't believe his eyes when he saw his tail wag with joy. “I apologize, I didn’t see you.”
“It’s alright,” you laugh, walking over to him. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?”
“You two know each other?” Yingxing asked. Dan Feng narrowed his eyes, fixing the younger man with a glare.
“I should be the one asking you that, Yingxing,” he said lowly, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “When did you and them get so close?”
“We’ve been friends for a while,” you answered for Yingxing, lightly hitting Dan Feng’s chest. “Be nice to him.”
Dan Feng pouted, reluctantly letting you go. “But-”
“No ‘buts’,” you scolded, crossing your arms. “If you’re not going to be nice, you can step outside.”
Dan Feng looked akin to a kicked puppy, but he relented. Although, when he saw Yingxing, trying his absolute best not to laugh, Dan Feng felt murderous intent for the first time.
His tail lashed angrily behind him as he watched you converse with the blacksmith, Yingxing sweating from the pure pressure of Dan Feng’s stare. He’d never been so relieved to see you go.
“I have to go now, but I’ll come back later, alright?” you said, waving at Yingxing. You squeezed Dan Feng’s shoulder on your way to the door, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Don’t give him a hard time, okay?”
Dan Feng only nodded, briefly touching his hand to yours before you finally left, leaving the two men alone.
“So,” Yingxing coughed, looking anywhere but Dan Feng’s eyes. “Feng’er, was it?”
“You will not speak of this,” Dan Feng warned. Yingxing raised his hands in surrender.
“My lips are sealed, High Elder.” Yingxing smiled. “Although, if I were you, I wouldn’t wait.”
Dan Feng narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“How should I say this…” Yingxing pondered. “If you stall for too long, someone will sweep them away.”
Horror shot through Dan Feng like a bullet as he gaped at Yingxing. The thought of you leaving him for someone else, replacing him, hadn’t even crossed his mind.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he gritted out, taking a deep breath to calm down. “They would never replace me.”
Yingxing blinked. “Don’t tell me you haven’t realized.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Dan Feng, you’re-”
“Dan Feng, Yingxing, there you are.”
Jingliu crossed her arms in the doorway, her apprentice, Jing Yuan by her side. 
“Was that [Name] I just saw run out?” she asked, raising a brow. She shook her head. “Nevermind that. I needed to talk to you two anyways. We’re heading out in a week’s time.”
“What for?” Dan Feng questioned, furrowing his brows.
“The Denizens of Abundance have invaded our ally Thalassa,” Jingliu disclosed, her voice tight at the mere mention of the Xianzhou’s sworn enemies. “We’ve been ordered to drive them out.”
“Very well,” said Dan Feng. “We’ll see you then, Jingliu.”
She nodded. “Until then.”
It was the first time Dan Feng had seen death.
War was never pretty for anyone, soldier or civilian. It was dirty, dark, and grimy. In war, you had two objects: one, defeat the enemy. Two, survive.
Dan Feng cursed as he ran his spear through another borison, the ocean of Thalassa responding to his anger. Dragons made from water, the same ones he showed to you all those years ago, drove back the enemy, blasting them away and incapacitating them in the process.
He kept his eyes ahead of him, deliberately avoiding the ground. There, laid corpses of allies and enemies alike.
Death was uncommon on the Xianzhou, especially for a Vidyadhara. There were no soulless eyes on the Luofu, no limp bodies littering the ground. There were no pleas for mercy, no screams of pain and fear.
But here, in the midst of a foreign battlefield, all of those horrors revealed themselves, and bared their teeth.
Dan Feng made the mistake of looking down. His eyes met with that of a deceased borison, its own lifeless eyes glazed over. Instantly, Dan Feng faltered.
The borison looked nothing but a Vidyadhara, but their eyes were the same. It might’ve been a different species, following a different Aeon, but the intelligence and sentience were the same. They were a person, just like anyone else. Just like you.
Only this one wouldn’t rebirth into a new life. No, this one was spoken for, done in by his spear. They would never live again.
The battle blurred around him as he spiraled deeper into his thoughts. He knew that realistically, it would never happen, but he couldn’t stop the thought from resurfacing in his mind.
What if one day, you ended up just like that borison?
Dan Feng shook his head, raising his spear just in time to block an attack from an enemy. No. It would never happen. He’d be there to protect you. The Cloud Knights would protect you. Xianzhou would protect you.
But what if they couldn’t?
“Dan Feng!” Jingliu’s shout snapped him out of his daze. Dan Feng clicked his tongue, irritated at his own absentmindedness. The battlefield was no place for distraction; he of all people should know this.
With a thrust of his hands, his dragons came to Jingliu’s aid, healing her wounds and fending off the borison attacking her.
He was being ridiculous, Dan Feng berated himself. The enemy was vastly overpowered. Their victory would come soon. And when it did, he would be able to come home, home to you.
And he did.
It was nighttime when he returned to the Luofu. You were just finishing up before bed, setting aside the fabrics you’d woven that day. Your former mentor had just checked in on you, making sure that you were doing alright before they went to sleep.
You heaved a heavy sigh to yourself, folding the final sheet before setting it on a shelf. Dan Feng and the others had been at war for months now.
“I wonder how they’re doing,” you muttered to yourself, closing your eyes. You knew they would be fine. Jingliu, Dan Feng, and every other member of the High Cloud Quintet were blessed with powers that you couldn’t even begin to imagine. The invading Denizens would be no match for them.
But still… You couldn’t help but worry.
What didn’t help was how obvious Dan Feng’s absence was. You often looked over your shoulder as you wove, as though expecting the young man to be standing there, watching. The night market didn’t feel the same without him being dragged around to every stall.
The lotus fields, with all their flowers and pads, seemed empty.
It was as though a hole had been ripped out of your heart, leaving only a dull ache.
The sound of your door opening startled you. You swiveled around, utterly confused. Just who would be here at this hour? Very few people had access to the key to your home. 
Perhaps one of the other weavers? Or perhaps your mentor again, worried that you weren’t getting enough sleep?
The answer was neither. A strangled whisper of your name, in such a familiar voice, cut through the night air like a knife. Tears welled in your eyes as you took in the sight of your best friend, finally home after so long.
“Feng’er?” you whispered. He nodded wordlessly, taking a few hesitant steps into your home.
You met him halfway, reaching up to hold his face delicately. Dan Feng closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a little sigh. His arm came to the small of your back, pulling you in as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.
“You’re late,” you murmured, brushing your hand through his hair. Dan Feng tightened his arms around you.
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be,” you laughed, sniffling. “Do you know how worried you made me?”
Dan Feng pulled away from your neck, gazing into your eyes. His tail swayed, eventually circling around your waist. He gingerly held your chin between his thumb and index finger as though you’d break if he was any rougher with you.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, brows crinkling. Quickly, he wiped away your tears. Of all else, Dan Feng hated seeing you cry, and hated it even more if it was because of him. “I’m here now.”
You nodded tearfully. “And you’re not leaving, right?”
“Not for a while,” he promised. “Even the Abundance will need time to recover from the damage we did to them.”
“Good.” You held his face in your hands. “Because right now, you’re mine.”
“Is that so?” Dan Feng said softly. His eyes lingered on your lips, his lips slightly parted. “I’m yours, is that right?”
“Mhm.” You smiled as you felt him press your bodies impossibly closer together, one arm around your waist and the other behind your head. Your lips brushed against each other, your voice a whisper as you two danced on the edge. “Mine.”
A push from Dan Feng’s hand, and he sealed his lips with yours.
Immediately, you closed your eyes, savoring the taste of his kiss. His lips were soft, yet cool, like the touch of a river on a summer afternoon. He kissed you with a hidden desperation, years of pining and longing unleashing themselves in this torrent of affection. You almost couldn’t keep up with him, letting out a whimper as he tilted your face gently, deepening the kiss.
Even when you parted for air, it wasn’t long before Dan Feng greedily pulled you back in, addicted to the feeling of your lips on his. His hands wouldn’t stop wandering in a languid motion, slowly roaming all over you, from your waist to your back to your neck, and back to your waist again, squeezing every bit he could find.
By the time Dan Feng’s relentless assault ended, the two of you were breathless. Words failed to form on your tongue as you simply stared into Dan Feng’s eyes, trying to catch your breath.
Dan Feng pressed his forehead against yours, his horns bumping against you.
"You don't know how long I waited for that,” he whispered huskily. You let out a breathless chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.
“I think I did.”
The corners of Dan Feng’s eyes crinkled. You’ve never seen them so up close before. The colors reminded you of a stone in a river, with cool grey giving way to gorgeous teal.
And the way he looked at you made your heart melt - it’s so tender, so soft, so filled with love that you can practically feel how much he cares about you.
And you can only hope that he saw the same in your eyes.
“I love you,” he confessed, like it was a secret. But even still, him being able to say those three words made it worth more than anything in the world. “I’ve always loved you, ever since we were children.”
Joy bubbled up in your chest, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling. Your hand came to his scalp, bunching up his hair in your fingers.
“I love you too, you dork.” You pecked him on his nose, and then his forehead, laughing as he wrinkled his nose in response.
Reluctantly, you released him from your grasp, instead tugging his hand into your abode.
“It’s late already,” you explained. “The Preceptors won’t mind if you come home late, right?”
“They no longer control me,” Dan Feng affirmed. You grinned.
“That’s good.” You lead him into your bedroom, glancing over to make sure he was fine with it. “I don’t have a guest room, so are you alright with sharing a bed?”
Dan Feng flustered, but he nodded. “Th- That’s fine with me.”
You would learn that Dan Feng was incredibly clingy in bed. He practically enveloped you in his arms, tangling your legs together as he hugged your shoulders. His tail was conflicted - either thumping happily against the bed or wrapping around you like a possessive snake.
But it was worth all of it. You felt safe in Dan Feng’s embrace, loved. In his arms, you slept the most soundly you’ve ever slept. It was as though you had found your other half.
You truly felt blessed when you woke up to Dan Feng’s sleeping face, so serene and tranquil. And fortunately for the both of you, that wouldn’t be the last time you woke up next to the other.
But those happy days were not made to last.
There would be many more feats Dan Feng would accomplish as the High Elder. He would become one of the most prolific Vidyadhara ever, forever documenting his name in history books.
You two would eventually marry, sealing your love not just with those rings. It was a marriage in the palaces of Scalegorge Waterscape, only the best for the High Elder. All of your friends attended, Yingxing and Baiheng especially praising Dan Feng (and lamenting about how he of all people got married before they did). 
Jing Yuan had grown into a fine young man, his intellect and skill with the Lightning Lord being parallel to none. Yingxing was beginning to age, being a short-lived species. Jingliu had retired, aiming to end her days peacefully.
But as said before, that wasn’t what fate had planned for the quintet.
Jingliu would be driven mad with mara, her only solace being the blade of her former mentor. Baiheng would be missing in action. Yingxing would be killed long before his time, leaving Dan Feng in despair over losing three beloved friends so soon. 
Perhaps that is what drove him to do what he did.
“How could you?”
Dan Feng winced at the crack in your voice as you screamed at him. You were crying, angry tears streaming down your face.
“My love, please-”
“Do not call me that!” you snapped, making him flinch. “You don’t get to call me ‘my love’ after that. What were you thinking?!”
“It was the only way!” Dan Feng insisted.
“It was cruel,” you hissed. “You know that more than anyone here.”
“They stole them from me,” Dan Feng growled, his eyes flashing. “It wasn’t their time.”
“I know,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying and screaming. “I know it wasn’t. But you know what immortality will do to them, Feng’er. You know what the curse of Abundance does.”
Dan Feng averted his eyes guiltily. You wipe at your eyes hurriedly, taking big, gulping breaths to calm down.
“What did the Preceptors say?” you finally asked. Dan Feng’s gaze lowered, a shadow cast over his face. A pit dropped in your stomach.
“They’re waiting outside,” he revealed. “I’m to be taken to the Shackling Prison, and forced into rebirth. They only let me be here to say goodbye.”
It was as though an anvil had been dropped on you, crushing you.
“No.”
It was the only thing you could muster out. You shook your head in disbelief.
“No. No, no, no!” you croaked out. “They can’t do that. Not to you.”
Ironic, how only a few minutes prior you were berating Dan Feng as though your life depended on it. Now, you were pleading for him to be forgiven, for a lighter sentence to be dealt out. Because for a Vidyadhara, a forced rebirth was practically the same as a death sentence.
“Isn’t there another way?”
Dan Feng shook his head, taking your arms in his hands.
“I’m afraid not. This is the only way the public will forgive my sins.”
He took a deep breath.
“Please, my love,” he begged quietly. “Look at me.”
You did.
“You have to be strong,” said Dan Feng, cradling your face one last time. “Promise me that you’ll be alright, even after I am reborn.”
You shook your head. “Feng’er, please.”
“Promise me,” he urged.
“I…” You faltered. “I promise.”
Dan Feng smiled sadly - the last smile you’d ever see from your husband.
“Thank you.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, a kiss to last you the lifetimes he wouldn’t be at your side. “I love you, [Name]. And I’m sorry for being such a selfish husband.”
You closed your eyes, savoring him for the last time. Silently, you told him your forgiveness.
“I love you too, Dan Feng.”
That was the day the love of your life died.
Centuries have passed since then.
You’re still weaving, now taking care of your rebirthed mentors as they had cared for you. There are children under your wing now, hoping to learn your craft and one day start a business of their own.
You still keep in touch with Jing Yuan, the general visiting your farm every so often. Each time, you offer him a taste of the lotus seeds Dan Feng loved, but each time, he refuses.
Yingxing has become the Stellaron Hunter Blade, cursed with immortality and the mara that comes with it. If he remembered you, he never showed it.
The Ambrosial Arbor, reawakened by the Denizens of Abundance, runs rampant, threatening the existence of the Luofu itself. You hear from friends that Jing Yuan had enlisted a group of outworlders - the Astral Express - to help him with the crisis.
And now, those very outworlders were standing outside your door.
“Par-” Jing Yuan coughed, cutting himself off. “Pardon the intrusion, [Name].”
He was currently being held by a young Vidyadhara, one that… Your breath hitched.
One that looked almost identical to Dan Feng.
Your lover’s lookalike noticed your gaze at him. The second you met eyes, he seemed to know exactly what was going through your mind.
“...I’m not him.” He repeated this sentence for the nth time today.
You smiled sadly.
“I know.”
You turned to Jing Yuan, taking in the general’s sorry state. The outworlders, a young girl with pink hair, an older brunette man, and a grey-haired teenager all seemed to be in similar shape, although definitely better than the general.
You stepped aside. “Why don’t you all come in? It’s been a while since I’ve had company.”
“Thank you.” The brunette, who you would later come to know as Welt, thanked.
As you turned away, Dan Feng’s reincarnation noticed a jade ring on your finger, recognizing it as the one he had woken up in.
“That’s…”
You hummed, raising your hand. You’ve never taken it off, not even when Dan Feng was reborn.
“You recognize it,” you mused. “I suppose that means he still has it?”
The reincarnation hesitated, but nodded. You smiled.
“That’s good. Say, what’s your name, little one?”
“Dan Heng,” he answered.
 “It’s a good name.” You stepped away for a moment to the kitchen. “I apologize; the tea may take a while. I wasn’t expecting guests.”
“It’s no matter,” Jing Yuan assured.
And as you served tea to the Astral Express, you couldn’t help but notice: five people, seated around a table, enjoying tea. Just like a scene hundreds of years ago.
You chuckle to yourself, a carved lotus glimmering in the light on your ring.
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reblogs w comments are appreciated !!
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garoujo · 1 year
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NOW PLAYING: ✩ ˛˚ . 𝓓𝓐𝓓𝓓𝓨’𝓢 𝓖𝓘𝓡𝓛 feat. GOJO SATORU!
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ wc: 4.8k! your step dad knows that at the end of the day you’ll always be a daddy’s girl.. you just don’t realise it yourself!
warnings! f!reader, stepcest, noncon!somno (kissing & touching) -> eventual consent (it happens more than once, you wake up during one of them & it escalates to more), stepdad!gojo, age gap, you refer to him as ‘daddy’, this is my submission for @killsaki’s family ties collab, fank u so much starry for letting me join & write this! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! it’s been a while since i’ve written step daddy!gojo but pls head the warnings! ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა
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it’s late, you think aimlessly as you find yourself blinking drowsily at the crappy slasher you’ve wound up watching on the couch in the living room. you’re tired, but you can’t sleep and the more you think about it the more restless you feel as you try to burrow yourself deeper into the plush blanket that’s wrapped around you, comfortable but you still feel cold as you wait—beg for sleep to take you.
another drowned out screen rattles you as it pours into the room and you find yourself pouting before deciding to flick through your phone instead. it’s like you’re caught in a haze as you swipe through your feed, offering the tv a quick glance every so often but you’re not paying enough attention to your surroundings to hear the careful steps behind you.
there’s another scream followed by another sigh from you before you jolt when long arms fall across your shoulders, followed by a smooth voice that steals your entire attention with how much it seems to soothe you.
“oh? you’re up late.” your stepdad gojo drawls as his looming figure drapes over the back of the couch behind you, his chin resting on the top of your head as his crystalline gaze squints at the tv screen before you nudge him off with a huff.
“what the hell, satoru!” you grumble as you turn around to shoot him a frown from over your shoulder, but that only seems to make him meet you with a smirk before he’s rounding the couch to see you clearer. “but yeah, i just cant sleep.”
“you scared?” he’s teasing you, you can tell by the way gojo’s smile twitches wider, sending you a narrowed sort of look beneath the snowy peaks of his hair as he tilts his head at you. but you hate how good he was at it, making you cross your arms as you try to focus back on the movie you were now suddenly so interested in again.
“you’re so annoying.” it’s a half-hearted rebuke, you’re far too tired to think up something witty and you know even if you did, he’d say something even more infuriating.
gojo was always like that with you, he seems to take pleasure in getting to you, prodding you for a reaction and it’s annoying how good he is at doing it. maybe that’s just how he was, the role of father to someone else’s child seemed to come a lot easier to him than it might to others, but you always put that down to the megumi he always spoke about, so that was never an issue. although you’ve never been able to shake the feeling that your stepdad likes teasing you a little more than he does everyone else.
“hm, you need protectin’? ‘ts my job remember.” his honeyed tone brings your tired gaze from your thoughts and back to him before he knocks his hand against your thigh, ushering you along the couch before his lanky body is falling into the spot right next to you.
“i can take care of myself.” you huff as you look away from him again and you hear gojo hum like he’s thinking it over before he breathes out a laugh, letting his palm push under the blankets to smooth across your thigh like some sort of faux attempt to soothe you. the touch lingers longer than you’d like but you swallow it down, he’s always been a little touchy.
“oh? but a sweet thing like you is always first to go.” you hate the way the compliment mixed with the back and forth motion of his hand on your skin feels like it burns you. it’s like something ignites in your skin despite how cold you felt a moment ago and it’s sinful the way your instincts seem to push you closer to him as you seek out more.
your stepdad gojo always ran warm so you’ll blame it on that rather than the heat that’s buzzing along your shoulders and thighs with every swipe of his hand, his fingers squeezing comfortingly at the skin as you make yourself comfortable in his side. despite the teasing, you were always close so the proximity isn’t something that was completely new, although this feeling is.
“nah, it’s always the annoying, handsome ones.” you’re blissfully unaware of your adorable little reply until you hear the snowy haired man next to you chuckle before he’s pulling your legs over his, sending you a look that makes you cast him a sidewards glance before you’re avoiding it all together.
“is that right?” gojo goads, deliberately as he pinches at your thigh a little too hard but just enough to have you kicking your legs before he’s wrapping one of his long arms around your shoulder again, this time to curl you closer into him as his lips rest against your temple. he can feel you grumbling, probably a little embarrassed you just called your stepdad handsome but he’s sure the things going on in his mind right now are a whole lot worse.
“shutup, you’re missing the movie.” but you’re just too adorable for him to ignore.
but your stepdad thinks you’re so pretty when an hour or two later you’re finally asleep — your cheek pressed against his shoulder when his ministrations on your skin mixed with his comforting body heat has finally lulled you.
gojo finds himself wanting to rest there a little longer as he stretches out his neck meanwhile probably the fourth sequel to that shitty movie plays. but he lets his muscles pop before he’s pulling you closer and sighing when he finds his eyes dropping to the press of your chest against his own, broader one. it’s sinful, he knows he shouldn’t deliberately put himself this close to you, not when he’s well aware of your little crush on him — one that he welcomes, maybe due to his own growing affection that stemmed way past that of a father figure at this point.
although despite his own selfish desires to keep you pressed against him all night, he knows you’ll complain tomorrow about the uncomfortable sleeping position and as much as he’d like to use the opportunity to insist that he’s the comfiest, he knows he should let you sleep.
“gotta get you to bed, angel. yeah?” so gojo tries to push himself up from the couch as he whispers to you, carefully as to not rouse you from your sleep but it proves unsuccessful when your brows fall into a frown. your arm round his waist to squeeze yourself closer as your pretty, sleepy feathers tilt perfectly up at him and it’s almost like you’re teasing him as he falls back against the cushions behind him, your lips parted and pouty — like you’re begging for him.
your mom did always complain about how much he spoils you.
he shouldn’t, but it wasn’t uncommon for dads to kiss their daughters goodnight and who is he to skip out on the necessities of his role. so gojo let’s his gaze drop to your lips before his fingers are tracing along the shape of your jawline, holding you there before he’s leaning into kiss you once on the lips as a goodnight and then again because he wants to, because he can.
the kiss is short and sweet but you whimper as he pulls away, pushing yourself closer like you’re asking for more and it’s like his self control seems to snap, string by string at the sight of you so pliant against him. suddenly the man who was considered to be the strongest is nothing but weak at the sight of his own step daughter.
“gotta stop teasing me like this, sweet girl. g’nna make me do something you’ll hate me for.” but gojo leans in again anyway, deliberately this time as his lips end up back on yours for a kiss that’s just as warm although it seems harder. you’re pulled in close and despite the way something in his chest tells him to stop, he won’t—he can’t. he lets his mouth press you open, moving you so easily but still gentle enough not to wake you as he parts your lips, grunting when his tongue finally pushes up against yours and his hands fall to your body once more.
he lets his tongue graze along your own, tasting you deeply until there’s a twitch in his hips and a throb in his cock when his palm falls to your chest, taking a slow handful of your tits before he’s swiping his thumb across the shape of your nipple and growing hungrier when it pulls a whimper from you.
gojo knows he’s too far gone now, but you’re still asleep — his own little step daughter putting all of your trust in your step dad like he isn’t kissing your pliant body right now, squeezing and palming at your breasts in his palms before he’s throwing caution to the wind and trailing under the hem of your shirt instead. your skin feels like silk beneath his hands and the first, real press of your chest is heavenly as he licks into your mouth, wishing he could feel you kissing him back as he pinches and rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
he gives himself a few moments before he pulls away, before he gets carried away and lets his hand fall back to your hips. but it’s like instinct the way it explores the topography of your body — finding the heat of your intimate skin almost too quickly as his lips trail hungrily down your neck. 
gojo can feel the sweet press of your pussy through the little shorts you’d opted to wear, he can imagine how it would feel when his tongue would graze through your slick folds but he knows he’d still rather have the real thing, instead he’s left with an infinite void that only seems to make his cravings worse. he rolls your sensitive skin between his teeth before he rubs at your clothed clit with two fingers and the sound it pulls from you is oh so fucking sweet.
“oh, daddy knows what y’need.” you’re so fucking sensitive, he wants nothing more than to hear you cry for your daddy — breathing out sweet little uh-huhs and pleas as he pushes into you but he won’t wake you, not yet. so he’ll keep his movements gentle, light despite the way he can feel you growing warmer, stickier under the press of his thumb when his voice is pressed to your skin and your thighs twitch with every intoxicating flick of his wrist.
you’re close and he’s warm, breathing deep as gojo pushes himself deeper into you — igniting the spit soaked nerves along your skin as he suckles another mark into your neck but just as he goes to toy with the waistband of your shorts, he stops. he swallows deep, harshly as he catches his breath — like he’s just snapped out of a daze before he’s giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek and a look that lasts a little too long before he speaks.
“time for bed, sweet thing.”
but you’ll wake up alone, warm and sticky like you just woke up from a lewd dream with the pulse of a hickey on your throat — tucked up in your bedroom like you didn’t fall asleep on the couch as you mutter out a “daddy?” and you’ll stay unknowing. for now. until he says so.
you’ll have that pretty little dazed, confused look on your face when your soft footsteps make their way to the kitchen and gojo, your stepdad, will be there to meet you like he always is when your mom is on another business trip as he leans over the counter — his head propped up against his fist as he sends you a teasing expression.
“why’re you looking at me like that?”
“hey now, no good morning? you break my heart.” you smile a bit at his words, blame it on your body still waking up but he seems to like that as he pushes himself up from the counter, giving you a little relief from him bothering you as your stepdad opts to putting a cup for you right next to his own on the counter.
“mom will kill you for using so much sugar in your coffee, didn’t she tell you to stop that.”
your words make gojo’s usual smirk stretch along his features as he takes a few languid steps towards you, sending you a half-lidded look over the frames of his glasses before he’s chuckling. “come on now, don’t be like that. i think we’re allowed our own little secrets.” he quips back quickly, letting his palm pat along your shoulders and you think it’s strange the way your skin seems to twitch and tingle at the swift, seemingly innocent touch despite the way you feel it turn your stomach.
but despite the uneasy feeling that you’re not sure you like at all, aswell as the increasing damp spot in your panties most mornings and the uncomfortable heat that only seems to grow and burst in your stomach every time you see him. you still seek him out when you’re tired and he welcomes you with open arms as you curl into him on the couch, it’s only natural to take more when he’s so eager to give, right?
this was torture for your stepdad too after all, gojo wants nothing more than for you to blink up at him as he breaks you open — he wants to feel the stretch of your walls and taste of your slick pussy on his tongue but he’s held himself back. you should be grateful that he’s only settled for playing with you through your clothes when you sleep on his chest, quenching his thirst for you with a few messy, sloppy goodnight kisses.
but you’re feeling particularly restless tonight despite the way you normally slept so well against your stepdads chest — finding your sleep anything but deep as you slip in and out of consciousness uncharacteristically. it always seems to find you again quickly, normally due to the soothing graze of your snowy-haired pillows fingers along the length of your spine or the smooth hum of his voice.
though when you wake next, the last thing you want to do is sleep when you realise your thighs are spread and your step dads lips are on your neck, his hand pushed down the front of your shorts to rub sticky circles into your clit through your panties.
“daddy?” your voice is weak, wound up tight with the way gojo’s pressing the pads of his fingers into you and keeping you in place, but he freezes when he realises you’re awake — readying himself to pull away despite the way your body is begging him to stay. he grunts and his hand works to leave you but you reach for him and pull him back before you tangle your other hand in his hair. “daddy~”
your back feels sticky where it presses against his chest and despite how disgusting it should feel, you’ve never felt warmer as you spread your thighs wider and you lose every sense of right and wrong with his touch. you hook them over his own as his hips press tight against yours from behind, the angle letting you feel the heavy press of his cock against your lower back as he chuckles breathlessly into the crook of your neck.
“oh? well good mornin’ sweet thing. didn’t know you were so greedy f’ me.” gojo’s lips curl when you shudder into him and he takes your new found consciousness as an invitation for him to push through the final layer of your soaked panties, finally allowing himself to pet through your folds as he eases past the thin fabric.
“what—ah! what’re you doing?” it’s filthy, the break in your voice when he groans at the slick he collects under his touch — trailing it up the press of your pussy to circle your clit as you murmur out another sweet cry for your daddy. so sweet, that only makes him press down on the sensitive bud harder, keeping you tight against him as he rubs at you with two fingers and smears a gentle kiss behind your ear.
“don’t try and pretend you weren’t teasing me, ‘ts mean to lie to your daddy.” your body does little to defend you when every swipe of gojo’s fingers has your hips twisting under his touch. “hm, think i’m spoilin’ you too much, ‘s that it?” his movements slow with his words and he thinks it’s adorable the way you hiccup and beg for him to keep going, grinding into the press of his palm as you babble about how you like when he spoils you.
that’s what everyone says, your mom would always tell him to stop babying you but fuck if only she could see you now.
but he hums, with that same teasing demeanour he always has before his movements come to a halt and the look you send him over your shoulder makes his cock twitch as pretty tears gather at your lashes. gojo sucks his lower lip between his teeth, then he leans into give you another affectionate, soothing kiss on the cheek before his fingers are sinking into your pussy.
“mmm, do i treat you well, sweet thing? you’re such a daddy’s girl, ain’t ya?” you feel him smirk against your cheek as he curls his long fingers inside the squeeze of your walls, letting his palm rub against your slick pussy everytime he sinks them deeper into you until you’re shaking filthily in his lap. he quickly finds a pace that makes your toes curl from where they’re hanging over his thighs, your body rocking in time with him as you ride his fingers and you know he fucking loves that when he rewards you with another hickey suckled into your throat.
“yes, yes, y-yes! ‘m daddy’s girl— satoru, please,” you can barely think never mind speak with how perfectly gojo’s pressing into the sweet spots inside of you, your words coming out a jumble of moans and whines. it’s like he’s mapped out your nerves before hand despite the way this has been the first real feel of you. but his fingers are so long that it’s almost too much with how well he seems to pet at your walls, so good that you could spend forever right here.
“oh, then i’m all you need, yeah? your one ‘nd only?” gojo’s words are possessive when they’re buried into the next hickey he sucks into your skin, his tongue hot as it lavs over the raised mark but it only seems to ignite the flames that lick at your spine as your legs shake. your thighs close around his wrist but he only fights to pry you back open so he can watch the way you cream around your stepdads fingers, laughing so fucking infuriatingly when he keeps going until you’re twitching and making his smug smirk stretch even wider.
“so good fo’ me, wish you could see how pretty y’ look like this, princess.” you’re breathing in short, quick pants as the buzz from your orgasm makes you dizzy. but despite that, you still seem to move so easily when you feel your daddy pat at your trembling thighs, urging you to push yourself off his lap and onto the cushion at his side before he’s turning to look at you once more.
“gonna look even better on daddy’s cock though, yeah?” gojo lets his large hands smooth their way up your thighs before he pushes himself up to his knees — easing down the waistband of his sweats to take out his heavy cock as you nod shyly, still reeling from your orgasm as your eyelashes flutter prettily.
you should feel gross with the way you almost drool at the sight of your stepdads cock, someone who’s meant to parent you not fuck you, but you think that shameful part of you already died when you creamed around his fingers. now, you’re only left with the longing to have him sink up into you, warm and long. so he leans down to kiss you greedily, pressing you into the cushions beneath you as your thighs spread for the push of his hips and wrap around him.
“hmmm, so greedy. my pretty baby.” gojo mumbles as he yanks your shirt up to pool around your breasts and the sight makes his cock twitch as he pulls back to give you a pretty look, brushing his hand through the snowy peaks of his hair so you can take in his hypnotising gaze that make you shudder underneath it like you would on a white winter. he presses the blunt tip against the entrance to your pussy and he gives you another teasing grin when he pauses for a few moments, waiting until your lips part to whine at him before they curl around a moan when he sinks into you instead.
but he knows he’s really fucked with the first saccharine squeeze of your walls around him as he breaks you open, watching the way your puffy folds spread for him because he knows he’ll never be able to stop. now he’s had a taste of the pretty little pussy that’s always parading around his home, he wants to keep you all to himself — ruining you for anyone who isn’t your daddy. you won’t need anyone else when he’s here.
“daddy! ‘s too much..” you gasp and it draws gojo in so he can kiss you again, rocking gently into the hug of your pussy until he finally bottoms out with a drawn out, long groan as his hips press flush and tight against your own. but because your step dad has always been careful, caring he gives you time to adjust to the stretch as his mouth twists softly into yours — bathing you in sweet kisses that make you relax before your hands are in his hair and you’re smearing your slick along his pelvis as you whimper for more, please! ‘ts s-so big..
“oh, but y’re so hungry for me.” his words are emphasised by the slow sway of his hips, pressing the length of him along the sweet spots inside of you that he reaches so easily as he pulls away to suck on his lower lip. “see?” he grits again as he presses down onto your stomach and it’s insane the way he suddenly feels deeper — the sharp cut of his stare so intense on the way you take him that you wouldn’t be surprised if he could see through you.
“look at me, angel,” gojo’s lips part ever so softly as his eyes search for yours again “wanna see you when y’re on the end of daddy’s cock,” and he wants to pinch your cheeks when you give him a starry-eyed look.
“wanted this pussy for so long, knew it was fuckin’ made just for me.” his words are hissed from between his teeth as he starts a pace that’s not particularly fast, but it’s heavy enough to have you jolting beneath him as his hands grab at your hips to keep you in place. his words are true after all, he can’t even count the amount of times his sweet little step daughter had him hard — too warm under his clothes despite the way he always seemed to look away before you caught him.
maybe if he’d met your gaze, coaxed you into him and let you catch the way he’d drink you up he’d have had you like this sooner. but gojo thought you to be so untouchable, but now your pussy is squeezing tight around his cock and he’s mouthing at your throat like he’s dreamed and that thought seems to fade away.
but your mind is a mess with how well he’s fucking you — losing yourself in the feeling of your daddy, in the feeling of finally having him close to you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and try to meet every wet connection of his hips with needy little grinds of your own. the blunt head of his cock feels like it slides along all of your sweet spots perfectly and you’re not sure if it’s still the lingering aftermath of your orgasm that has you so close already, or the realisation that the man over you is someone who should be anything but.
the reality is gojo’s deliberately dragging the pleasure out of you, rocking his body seamlessly with your own because he’s determined to have you craving him like he will you. he’s grinding his pelvis along your putty clit with every thrust and he doesn’t think he’s ever tasted anything sweeter than the sound of his name on your lips when he’s kissing you once more.
“daddy~ ‘m so close!” you gasp dreamily and your pussy squelches as warmth bursts and tingles across your thighs — the sweet lull your voice seems to have taken making the man over you’s pace stutter as he forces more of his cock into your slick walls.
“oh yeah? can tell, squeezin’ real tight already.” gojo grunts as he pushes his body closer to your own, rutting you into the cushions below you like a wild fucking animal despite the way he feels completely at your mercy. he’s past caring, past holding back when the heavens and the earth have dropped a perfect little thing like you right in his lap like he’s the honoured one.
“you want daddy’s cum, sweet thing?” his hands almost curl into your hips and he swear his lungs quake on his next thrust as the needy coax of your walls tremble around him. he needs you to want him, to beg for him before he crumbles under the weight of his own desire. you offer him another moan, followed by a mantra of sweet little yes daddy’s and uh huhs that only make him greedier, but it’s not enough.
“hm? can’t hear you, gotta be nice ‘nd loud f’ me.”
but despite the way you know your mind should be signalling, ringing for you to stop. you can’t, your lips part and you feel like your body is going to crumble with every one of gojo’s crushing thrusts. “yes, yes! p-please, want your cum, daddy!” you gasp despite the way you shouldn’t but you feel him pet at your cheek so softly that you can’t help the way your body betrays you.
“then don’t hold back on me,” your step dad grunts and you don’t, your pussy throbs around him and he grits his teeth as your cream around his cock. his hips press into yours, snug and tight with the first milking compression that has his huge stature curling over you as he sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck. but he doesn’t stop, he coaxes and fucks you through your orgasm until you’re like putty beneath him, thighs trembling to pull him closer and he hopes the fucking walls remember how pretty you sound when you cry his name.
“only f’ me, sweet girl. yeah?” he asks again and you struggle to stutter out anything coherent with how good you feel, the slight sting of overstimulation making you feel warm as gojo’s breathing becomes laboured and he finally spills hot and thick inside of you. but it’s filthy, when the back and forth stutter of his hips only seeks to push it deeper inside of you, a gooey ring of liquid forming around the base of his cock everytime he draws his hips back before they sink into you with another louder squelch.
he finally stills a few moments later as you whimper at the slight throb between your thighs, pushing gently at his chest to ease him off of you as he gives you a handsome, pink cheeked sort of smirk that you can’t deny makes you feel warm, loved.
“you could’ve atleast woken me up!” you hiss, playfully as you swat at your stepdads chest but he’s quick to take your hand in his before he’s intertwining them, leaning in to press a few kisses along your cheeks until you’re giggling and the infuriating smirk seems to return to his features far too quickly despite the way his softening cock still rests inside of you.
“oh yeah? but you were already so wet you must’ve been dreamin’ of me, sweet girl.”
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