#we have all been here for any explanation we would need for that though.
Text
Visiting Day
The heat is sweltering. The smell is nauseating.
Welcome to District Twelve.
Coriolanus stands tall though, taller than all the other men around him as one of their sergeant's drones on and on about how to behave today.
Because today is a special day.
It’s visiting day.
Coriolanus has been counting down the days until visiting day until he gets to see her again, have her in his arms.
When entering his second year at the University, he was prepared to be faced with exams, stuck-up professors, and of course, the many social events that he’d be expected to attend. What he was not prepared for was the opportunity given to a select ten male students to serve as “temporary Peacekeepers” for five months.
The idea of becoming a Peacekeeper, a public servant disgusted Coriolanus when he received the letter asking him to attend a meeting that would offer more explanation. Thankfully, Soarynn managed to persuade him to attend the meeting and that was where he learned that he wouldn’t really be seen or treated as a Peacekeeper
“You’ll have the authority of a sergeant,” one of their professors had explained. Professor Glass was the man who headed this program and further explained that they’d spend five months in one of the twelve Districts to learn and observe the Peacekeeper bases and report back their findings.
“We need to find the lapses in the system,” he had told them, “and we feel that we can count on you to do that for us considering you’re trusted Capitol citizens who love your country.”
Coriolanus hadn’t been thrilled by the idea of being stuck in one of the Districts for five months, but when the promise of extra credits and a diploma was presented, he accepted.
He just never expected to be stuck in District Twelve.
It hasn’t been bad for the most part. The food is utterly boring and dull and Coriolanus often finds himself longing for the foods he took for granted in the Capitol.
He and the other Capitol students who accepted the offer were also given special privileges as promised. Private sleeping quarters and showers, passes to go into town whenever they pleased and they could go unescorted.
For the most part, they sat inside and did paperwork. But they were able to observe how the other Peacekeepers went about their day, the tasks they performed. They had two months left and Coriolanus couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here. Even in October, it was still hot and he was sick of the bugs and the smell.
“I know you all are eager for your little reunions,” the sergeant continues as he paces back and forth in front of them, “but do not forget that you are to serve as examples for the rest of the men. That means maintaining a decent composure. Decorum!”
They all slightly jump at the last word and Coriolanus looks to his left to find Festus Creed trying to hide a smile. Festus widens his eyes at Coriolanus and mouths, “decorum,” in a teasing manner.
Coriolanus grins and shakes his head. He knows they’re all as eager as he is to see their loved ones descend from the train and make their way to the base. Most of the boys are without a girlfriend and are expecting family. Coriolanus being without any living family is only expecting his girlfriend.
Soarynn.
How long has it been since she’s been in his arms? Smiled up at him when he complimented her? Laughed when he told a joke?
Too long in his opinion.
Soarynn was mildly apprehensive about this five-month program once he told her all the new details about it. They’ve never been apart like this and Coriolanus would be lying if he said that it wasn’t taking a toll on him. They wrote to each other every week but letters could only do so much.
He was just itching to see her again.
The sergeant continues listing out rules for them to follow during this visitation. “No taking your visitors off the base, I can’t afford any casualties or run-ins with the locals. Too much paperwork,” the man says with a shake of his head, “you’ll have six hours with your visitors. I expect them all to be back at the station at six o’clock sharp. No exceptions.”
Six hours seems like a joke to Coriolanus who is so used to living with his girlfriend, but he’ll take what he can get at this point. The sound of several trucks pulling up alerts all of them and they all stare at one of the buildings where several figures can be seen moving inside through the tinted windows.
Another group of Peacekeepers march past them in formation, momentarily blocking his view of the building. By the time all the men have cleared, he can see the group of visitors all surrounding one of the Commanders, Commander Hoff who seems to be giving a tour of sorts.
Coriolanus highly doubts that any of these families give a fuck about the base but they all nod their heads and do their best to look interested. It’s a stark contrast to see how the Capitol folk are dressed compared to those who are District.
Despite the heat, most men are wearing button-ups and trousers and a few are sporting suit jackets as well. All the ladies are dressed in expensive dresses and high heels, flaunting jewelry and handbags.
Coriolanus cranes his neck to try and see Soarynn but she’s out of his sight. She’s on the shorter side but he was hoping she might try to see him early on. He wonders how the train ride was for her if she was comfortable and well taken care of.
He heard a few snickers and looks over at the group of Peacekeepers who had just marched past them who are now watching the group of visitors, amused looks on their faces. All of these men are District-born scum who Coriolanus does his best to avoid. Even though they’ve sworn to defend and serve the Capitol, Coriolanus doesn’t trust them.
They’re District. Simple as that.
One look at his fellow classmates tells him that they all feel the same way about their newfound audience. They want these men as far away from their families as possible. But they can’t move, can’t do anything about it. Coriolanus will have to wait for Soarynn to reach him, to touch him, and relieve him from his post.
It’s almost torturous.
Finally, Hoff finishes his spiel about who knows what and begins leading the visitors towards them. Coriolanus straightens up, quickly glancing over his uniform to make sure he’s presentable. All ten of the University students were given different uniforms to wear during their time in Twelve to help the leaders differentiate them from the lowly Peacekeepers.
His uniform is black, the lines and edges crisp and freshly washed. His boots are freshly shined and his face has been shaved and washed for today.
He’s so ready.
Then, he sees her. Nearing the back of the group but he’d recognize that blonde head of hair anywhere. She’s walking with the Creeds, no surprise there. All their parents grew up with one another, but only so many survived the war. Still, the remaining survivors look after their friend’s children in many ways, which includes allowing a young woman to walk with them toward a much-awaited reunion.
That was probably the worst part about all of this, leaving Soarynn behind, leaving her alone.
She has her cat Petunia but it’s not the same and they both know that.
He can see that Soarynn despite the weather and location has dressed to impress. She’s wearing a white dress with a straight neckline and short sleeves. The dress cinches at the waist and slightly fans out, accentuating her figure and her legs. She has a coat on as well, perfectly matching the color of her dress despite the rather hot weather. For shoes, she’s chosen a bold route, sporting white high heels to match her white leather handbag. He remembers gifting her that bag, how excited she had been about it.
Her hair is styled to perfection in a side part with large, bouncy waves. Coriolanus believes it’s what the ladies call “a blow-out.” Whatever that means.
She’s a sight for sore eyes his girl.
He watches as families reunite with their sons, wrapping them in loving embraces. Some mothers are crying while others fuss over their sons who will always be their baby boys. The fathers are more reserved but Coriolanus can see how proud they are of their sons.
Mrs. Creed reaches Festus first and nearly breaks his ribs in a motherly embrace and Festus lets out a sound of slight discomfort as he returns his mother’s hug.
But Coriolanus and his attention are quickly drawn to the stunning young woman who is making her way to him at a rapid pace. Soarynn Nightingale is a picture of Capitol sophistication. She never follows trends and yet always seems to be ahead of them. She never gossips but knows everything about everyone. She’s a stellar student who also manages to attend all social events without fail. And despite being orphaned at a young age, she’s very well-mannered.
All those manners fly out the window as she begins to run towards him with a big smile on her face. Coriolanus can’t help but smile back and open his arms as Soarynn flies into them, letting out a squeal.
Coriolanus wraps his arms around her instantly and suddenly he feels whole again. Like a piece of him has been missing this entire time and now he has it again. He buries his nose in her neck, inhaling that sweet scent of vanilla that he now only catches whiffs of from the letters she sends to him.
He lets out a deep sigh and tightens his hold on Soarynn as if he’s never going to let her go. And he doesn’t plan on it for the next six hours.
When they finally pull away from the hug he almost melts looking into her blue-gray eyes. They’re so dazzling. She’s still smiling and looking at him as if he’s the greatest thing in the world, “Coryo,” she breathes and it’s enough for him to crash his lips onto hers.
They earn themselves a few whistles for the rather public display of affection. Their Capitol friends are used to them being a couple, always being seen together but Coriolanus is selective on the type of affection he shows to Soarynn in public.
Kisses on cheeks, holding hands, fetching her a new glass of champagne. It’s the little things that let other men know exactly who she belongs to without having to try too hard. And Soarynn is the same way when it comes to being in public. Grabbing his arm as they walk through museum halls, always staying by his side, carrying his mints in her purse.
They’re perfect together.
“I’ve missed you, my love,” he says against her lips. Soarynn sighs into the kiss and it’s enough to let him know that she returns the sentiment.
Neither of them make any attempt to break away from the kiss, after the past two and a half months, they deserve to be as touchy as they’re being right now. “Coryo,” she sighs, “I’ve been waiting so long for this moment.” His arms tighten around her waist when he hears those words, hears that she’s missed him as much as he’s missed her.
“Why don’t we go somewhere more private hmm?” He suggests, thinking of his private sleeping quarters. Soarynn pulls away from the kiss and nods eagerly, “Yes, I’d like that very much.”
꧁ ꧂
“It’s not much, but it’s better than sleeping in the barracks,” he tells her as he unlocks the door to his small sleeping quarters. It’s a shack to put it plainly. With a single twin bed pushed against the left wall and a dresser sitting at the foot of the bed. Against the right wall sits a desk and chair and on the back wall is a single door that leads to the most basic bathroom one can imagine.
Still, it’s private.
Soarynn doesn’t let go of his hand while he unlocks the door, nor does she comment on the barren room he sleeps in every night. A few of his friends had decorated their quarters with photos but Coriolanus hadn’t bothered. Not when he’d be leaving soon.
The bed is perfectly made with the sheets pulled tightly. There’s truly not a speck of dust in this room which is quite something compared to Festus Creed’s sleeping quarters. Coriolanus wouldn’t be surprised if Festus had a rat infestation.
“It’s very you,” Soarynn decides as they step in, closing and locking the door behind her. He grins down at her, “Is it very me because it's neat or because there’s no decorations?” One thing he’s learned about Soarynn is that she appreciates a good piece of decoration. She’s completely transformed the penthouse since she moved in and if she had her way, she’d do the same to this small room.
She gives him a sheepish smile, “Perhaps. Although I do recall sending you several photographs of Petunia that you could’ve hung up on your wall.”
Coriolanus knows he would be the laughingstock of District Twelve if he had pictures of his girlfriend’s cat on his wall. Even if Petunia is quite the cute feline. He scratches the back of his neck, “Well, I didn’t want them to get ruined, darling. The humidity could’ve caused the edges to curl.” Soarynn laughs and he knows he’s caught but she doesn’t seem upset. She stands on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his cheek, “It’s your room, not mine.”
She has a point.
He looks down at his girlfriend and it seems he’s forgotten how beautiful she really is. With her tan skin with freckles and her soft pink lips. “How was the train ride?”
Soarynn shrugs, “It was fine. I mostly spoke with all the other families on the way here. It only took a bit over a day to arrive here surprisingly, so we arrived this morning which gave me some time to get ready.”
Coriolanus has no shame as he truly drinks Soarynn in. With her blonde hair perfectly curled, and her white dress with an open back which is perfect for ventilation on a hot day like today now that she's taken off her coat. For jewelry she’s gone with the golden rose pendant necklace he got her last year for their anniversary. Her fingers are adorned with several other gold rings that would cost a small fortune here in District Twelve.
Coriolanus tightens his grip on her hand as he thinks about how eager the District folk must be to get their hands on any unsuspecting Capitol citizen who’s paying a visit today. He can picture his sweet, innocent girlfriend being attacked on the way back to the station, ransacked for all her jewelry.
“Were you escorted from the train station?” He asks, and Soarynn nods, giving his hand a small squeeze, “Yes darling. We were kept perfectly safe.”
He wants to point out that nowhere is safe as long as they’re outside of the Capitol’s borders, but he doesn’t want to ruin their reunion. He glances over at his bed, speaking of…reunion.
“Did you miss me?” Soarynn rolls her eyes at his question and lets go of his hand, walking over to his small bed which is a joke compared to their bed in the Capitol, “Did I miss your big ego and your self-obsessed questions? Hmm, let me think about that,” she teases before sitting on the edge of the bed.
Coriolanus grins and watches her kick off her heels, "Did you miss me?" She counters, batting her lashes up at him like the little vixen she is. He takes his time walking over to her, enjoying how she squirms with anticipation.
It's been a long time since they've been together, too long in his opinion. And Coriolanus plans on making the most of their six hours together. He stops right in front of her and slowly sinks to his knees, watching Soarynn's eyes adopt a more sultry look. He gently takes hold of her foot, noting how each little toe has a fresh layer of white polish on them. Even her feet are perfect.
He presses a soft kiss to the top of her foot before pressing another kiss to her calve, slowly working his way up her leg. Her eyes never leave his as he so happily kneels in front of the woman he loves, the woman he would devote his entire life to if she asked him to do so.
By the time he reaches her inner thigh, they're both ridden with sexual tension and Soarynn takes hold of his golden curls and yanks his head up to meet her in a passionate kiss. He groans into the kiss, sliding a hand up her thigh and under her dress to find her panties already soaked.
Soarynn moans into the kiss and bucks into his hand when his fingers graze her folds, "Please," she gasps. Coriolanus smirks and brings his other hand to the back of her dress where the zipper is located, "Help me take this off, darling."
It's comical how fast Soarynn's fingers work to unzip the dress. She lifts her hips from the bed momentarily so he can slip it over her arms and toss it somewhere behind her. Coriolanus knows she has to leave this base looking somewhat decent. It would be terribly awkward for her to board the train looking like a disheveled mess.
His breath hitches in his throat when he sees her dressed in a matching set of lingerie. A white bralette with intricate lace detailing and her panties have the same fabric and pattern, with a little bow in the front. How adorable.
Coriolanus really just wants to rip her panties in half but again, she must look presentable when going back home so he settles for carefully taking them off and swearing under his breath when he sees her cunt for the first time since he left the Capitol.
She's absolutely soaked and Coriolanus is fucking starving. He grabs both her thighs and holds them apart as far as they'll go before diving in to taste her wetness, lapping at her clit and folds. Soarynn lets out a loud moan and her hand finds his curls once again, tugging on them while she whimpers. "Oh Coryo, please, right there, yes, yes, yes, please."
He wishes he could just keep her here in his pocket, that he could have Soarynn whenever he wanted, hold her whenever he wanted. Two months seems like an eternity right now.
He sucks on her clit hard and that has Soarynn squealing, her thighs nearly crushing his head but he'd happily die buried between her legs. "I'm close," Soarynn moans. Coriolanus looks up from her cunt to see the absolute vision Soarynn Nightingale is when she feels good. Her head is thrown back, her breasts are nearly spilling out of her bralette, and her skin smells like vanilla.
"Cum for me darling," he says against her cunt, his tongue delving inside to taste more of her sweetness. Soarynn whines and grinds her cunt into him, riding his face essentially. It's so fucking erotic and nasty that Coriolanus has a big, growing problem in his pants.
One final lick on her clit sends Soarynn into an orgasmic spiral and his name tumbles out of her mouth like a prayer.
Coriolanus stays down there until all he hears are soft whimpers, and he presses one final kiss to her cunt before rising up onto his feet to find Soarynn splayed out on his bed, her blonde hair creating a crown almost above her head. He cocks his head and steps between her spread legs, watching her pant as she tries to catch her breath, "So did you miss me?"
꧁ ꧂
Soarynn's giggles against his chest make Coriolanus want to hold her tighter against him. They're curled up on his small twin bed, both naked and sweaty, she'll probably have to take a shower before they leave this room. He presses a kiss to her temple, "What's that giggle about hmm?"
Soarynn props her head on his chest, those dazzling eyes catching him off guard once again. He's truly forgotten how beautiful she is. Perhaps he's taken his sweet, adoring girlfriend for granted all these years. The past few months away from each other have done him some good in appreciating all that Soarynn is to him.
"Your feet hang off the end of the bed," she says with another giggle. Coriolanus slightly sits up to see that his feet do in fact, slightly dangle off the edge of the twin bed. He rolls his eyes and settles back down on his pillow, running a loving hand over her hair, "Well most Peacekeepers aren't as tall as I am darling," he reminds her.
Coriolanus is more than proud of his height. Six feet and two inches to be precise. He loves it even more when he's with Soarynn. Loves how he can scoop her up, reach to grab things for her, to always be taller than her even when she's in heels.
"Well you're certainly the strongest Peacekeeper," Soarynn tells him, "you've gotten so much bigger since I last saw you." Her words stroke his ego and he smiles, the training he's been doing since arriving in Twelve has helped define his physique even more, giving him larger muscles. "Thank you. It's definitely been more physical than I anticipated," he admits. It's a good thing he exercised daily when living in the Capitol.
Soarynn tilts her head the same way Petunia does when she's curious about something, "In what way?" She asks. Coriolanus bites his inner cheek as he thinks, "Well, the training is quite demanding. We have to do a certain number of pushups, pull-ups, things like that."
Soarynn shakes her head, "I'd never last in the military."
Coriolanus takes a moment to look at her small frame. Soarynn is lean, she's around five feet and six inches but she's well-toned for a girl her age. She does these workout classes with her friends and they look torturous in his opinion. There are strange machines and it seems that everyone who does these classes is as flexible as can be, including Soarynn. Overall she's very fit, more than most of her friends but she most likely would get her ass handed to her after a day of Peacekeeper training.
"Well drop down and give me twenty," he says, watching her face morph from one of amusement to one of confusion. He nods at her, "You heard me private, drop down and give me twenty."
Soarynn raises her eyebrows but humors him and slowly peels her body off of his, giving him quite the view of her naked form before she stands up, stretching her arms into the air, "Do all of you Peacekeepers train naked?" She teases, “Or is it just me?”
Coriolanus rolls his eyes and does his best not to imagine having the train naked with other men. It would be traumatizing, to say the least.
“Just you,” he replies, “since you’re so special.”
Soarynn rolls her eyes and her eyes land on the desk next to her and the single drawer it possesses. Soarynn is a curious creature by nature and Coriolanus doesn’t even bother to stop her as she pulls the drawer open, letting out an excited gasp when she sees the drawer's contents.
All of the letters she’s written him.
“Oh, Coryo you kept them!”
He nods, watching as she rifles through the thick stack of letters he’s received from her. Coriolanus does his best to write her at least twice a week but it feels as if he receives a letter from her every single day, and there is almost always a picture of her and Petunia included.
“Of course I did,” he replies, “I look forward to reading them every day darling.”
It helps that Soarynn seems to have a passion for writing and can be rather lengthy and descriptive in her letters, informing him of the latest gossip and Capitol news. She’s been his little spy in a way.
“I enjoy reading yours as well,” she mumbles, flipping through several pages of her handwriting, “do the other boys get letters?”
Not as many as I do, he thinks to himself.
“They do. But mostly from their mothers.”
He’s seen the letters his friends have received and they’re all along the same lines of their mothers worrying themselves to death about their precious baby boys. “Be so careful my darling boy, blah, blah, blah.”
They usually receive letters right before dinner so they often read them out loud to each other in the mess hall and exchange any new forms of gossip they’ve found out. The boys always look forward to Soarynn’s since she actually provides useful information rather than someone’s mother talking about her lady's luncheon.
Soarynn hums and carefully places the letters back in the drawer and pulls out a few photographs that he brought with him. They’re all of her of course, Coriolanus knew he’d need something pretty to look at while being stuck in this hellhole.
Soarynn smiles softly at the photographs and traces her finger along a particular one, “Which one is that?” Coriolanus asks, sitting up in the bed. Soarynn steps over to him and sits on the edge of the bed, allowing him to hook his chin over her shoulder, “It’s the one we took after graduation.”
Coriolanus scans over the photograph and remembers that day well. It had been quite the celebration for them once they graduated from the Academy. The photograph shows the two of them in their cap and gowns, both smiling brightly at each other while holding their diplomas. “I like that one,” he finally says.
They both sit in silence for a moment, naked yet fully equal with one another. Coriolanus doesn’t know how he’s going to watch her leave, watch her walk away. How did she do it when he left?
He hadn’t been prepared to be the one being left behind this time.
“I wish you could stay forever,” he mumbles, pressing kisses to her shoulder. Soarynn sighs softly and takes his large hand in her small one, “I know. But we only have two more months. The worst of it is over.”
Coriolanus wants to point out that he is the one suffering from the worst of it but he knows that Soarynn has suffered too, just in different ways. “I’ve been terribly lonely without you,” she adds.
Coriolanus frowns against her skin, “But you have your friends, darling,” he points out. She also has her classes and events to attend. Soarynn shakes her head, “It’s not the same. You’re my family Coryo, you’re…you’re a part of me that I require to be complete.”
His heart swells at her words. They’ve both been dealt a shitty card when it comes to their families, both dead from the war leaving the two of them orphaned. But they found each other, built their own little family.
“I know darling. We’ll be together soon,” he promised, wrapping his arm around her waist, “and until then we can keep writing letters. And Petunia is family too isn’t she?” He hates to give the cat any credit but she’s a loyal pet to Soarynn.
Soarynn leans back against him and it feels so good to have her in his arms again. He knows that he should show her around the base, introduce her to people. But Coriolanus Snow is often a selfish man and for the next few hours, he wants her all to himself.
꧁ ꧂
"I think it looks attractive."
Soarynn scowls at his words as she stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She's attempting to make herself look somewhat presentable before leaving to go back home to the Capitol but after a few more rounds, her hair is a mess. "I think it looks horrendous," she retorts, letting his eyes in the mirror's reflection.
He can't stop the boyish grin from spreading across his face as he watches her fuss in the mirror. The bathroom is far too small for the two of them but they made it work and Coriolanus even managed to slip into the shower with her. "Just put it up darling, no one's going to notice." He knows how much Soarynn cares about her outward appearance and he would too but he also thinks it's somewhat adorable at how worked up she is about all of this.
Soarynn looks around the sparse bathroom which includes a toilet, a sink, and a shower, all within reaching distance of one another. "Do you miss our bathroom at home?" He doesn't hesitate to answer her question, "Yes."
Coriolanus misses a lot of things. He misses his large bathroom with its big shower. He misses his comfortable king-sized bed with the fluffy pillows and thick duvet. He misses his living room and kitchen where he used to host parties. He misses Soarynn most of all.
Soarynn smiles and shakes her head, "You were spoiled in the Capitol." She says that like it's his fault for being born in the greatest city of Panem. He wouldn't have it any other way though. He looks down at his wristwatch and frowns, she has to leave soon, very soon.
He's going to miss his girl so much. Just seeing her in his room has brightened everything up. How will he ever be able to look at his bed without picturing her in it? See his mirror without seeing her staring at her reflection?
"I'm going to miss you," he tells her, his voice slightly hoarse. Soarynn's face softens and she turns to look at him directly, "I know darling. But...but we'll be together again soon, I promise." Neither of them hesitates to pull one another into an embrace, skin on skin.
He buries his nose in her soft hair, smelling the sweet scent of vanilla for the last time. When he comes home he's going to marry this girl, he knows that much.
꧁ ꧂
They both hold onto each other's hands tightly as they approach the train station. Coriolanus managed to convince Hoff to let him escort Soarynn to the train and he's cherished every second he's had with her since they set off for town.
"It's certainly...different here," Soarynn decides. Coriolanus nods, ignoring the looks they get from the locals, "Yes it is."
Part of him wants to jump onto the train with her and go back home but then he'd be deserting his fellow Peacekeepers, and that could count for treason. He'll just have to stick it out for two more months. Sixty days. Hell on earth.
They come to a stop in front of the door Soarynn will step through, separating them once again. "I love you," Soarynn says, looking up at him. She looks so beautiful. Her dress doesn't look too wrinkled and her hair is styled in a fashionable updo, and she can always say that she put it up because of the heat if anyone questions her.
Coriolanus offers her a small smile, "I love you too darling, with all my heart and soul." Soarynn sniffles and Coriolanus pulls her in for a hug, wrapping his strong arms around her one last time, "Promise you'll keep writing to me," she whispers. He nods even though she can't see him, "Of course I will. And promise me that you'll try to enjoy yourself while I'm away. Have a little bit of fun."
Soarynn lets out a dry laugh but he hopes his wishes for her to enjoy herself come true. He doesn't want her running around the Capitol streets at night, but he also doesn't want her cooped up in the apartment either.
They stay like that until the sharp whistle of the train reminds them that one of them will be leaving soon. "I love you Soarynn, don't forget that," he tells her, cupping her face in his hands. Soarynn looks up at him and there's a hint of tears in her eyes, just like the first time they said goodbye.
"I love you too Coryo. Please take care of yourself darling, come back to me safe and sound." He presses a kiss to her lips to show her that he intends to return to her in one piece, ready to spend the rest of his life with her.
Another whistle lets them know it's now or never. Should Soarynn miss this train Coriolanus wouldn't know what to do with her, where to put her. District Twelve only gets a certain number of shipments a month and he wouldn't be able to guarantee when the next train would come.
It's time to say goodbye.
"I'll see you soon darling," he promises, giving her forehead a kiss, "and when I do, I have every intention of marrying you and making you Mrs. Snow."
The smile on Soarynn's face makes saying goodbye all worth it.
She gives him one final kiss before hopping onto the train, waving goodbye through the window as it pulls away from the station.
꧁ ꧂
One Week Later
Dear Coryo,
Mrs. Snow does have a nice ring to it.
Love, Soarynn
| tumblr oneshot/drabble |
#slaymitchabernathy#coriolanus fanfiction#hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#ao3 fanfic#coriolanus snow#soarynn snow#wattpad#coriolanus smut#coriolanus x soarynn#soarynn nightingale#coriolanus x oc#oc#original character#coriolanus imagine#coriolanus oneshot#coriolanus fic#oneshot#staywithmealways#stay with me always#ao3#coriolanus drabble#drabble#coriolanus x festus creed#peacekeeper coriolanus snow
22 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! Can I first just say that I absolutely love your work? Cuz I do!
Anyways I had a question/thought to share with you. Idk if it’s been discussed before but why do you think it is that the cube will only glow for one arcanum at a time even if two separate ones are in the same proximity to it? For example when Rayla returns in s4 the cube glows for the star arcanum presumably for Stella but not the moon symbol for Rayla even tho she is actively using her moon shadow form. I know Stella was closer to it at first but it began to glow before she touched it and even after that while she was on Raylas shoulder the moon symbol never lit up. And why did the star arcanum win out at that point and not the moon arcanum?
Again sorry if this is a redundant question or is something already explained that I never saw!
Thank you!! Your kind words are very much appreciated <3
I've written about the cube (specifically onscreen rune placement) here, but I've never done a formal analysis about how and why the rune itself glows. This is largely because, while TDP is a detail oriented series, there is no definitive answer for how/when the key glows as opposed to any other time.
The most consistent glow we see is the rune glowing when it faces the arcanum-holder (plant, animal, person) most directly; if I had to say how it definitively glows, this is probably the one I'd default to.
However, we see exceptions to that 'rule' all the time, such as when it glows adjacently for Bait or for the moon squirrel (Callum is a dork loser and I love him so much).
The cube also glows just from having Stella hold it in 4x02/03 (but more on that in a second), even if it means the rune glowing that's Opposite from her, never mind adjacent or next to her.
Which indicates that presumably whoever holds it should be making it glow... but Callum never does even when he's routinely holding the cube (any of the times in 3x02, when he grabs it from Soren in 4x01 or from the table in 4x04 / 4x07, etc).
But okay, maybe just... loose proximity is enough? Whoever is Closest.
But we see that also not be true more than a few times as well. The fish is sensed a decent amount before it arrives on scene, Callum is a good deal away from the Key, and it ~ glows ~ to help hint that we're arriving at a special Moon place (the Moon Nexus) but never glows when we're actually at the Nexus, nor when we're at any other (the Storm Spire).
I also don't think it's summoned by whatever is 'the most powerful' source nearby, either, as that would routinely count Callum out pretty unfairly and like I said, it doesn't glow consistently at the Moon Nexus either, so it can't be that either. (Maybe it glows in 1x08 consistently because they're unknowingly surrounded by illusions, and those illusions grow more numerous the higher they get, but I do think they were leaning more towards foreshadowing the Moon Nexus being at the top > anything else.)
While there was enough consistency with how the runes were displayed on screen for me to hedge my bets foreshadowing wise ("You found it?" overlaid the ocean rune made me guess we'd find the prison in s5, routinely highlighting moon but particularly ocean in Callum's dark magic dreams made me think he'd do dark magic/something adjacent to Aaravos' bidding on Rayla's behalf in s5), I think when/why the rune cube glows is just... too much leeway to say anything definitive about an in-universe explanation.
Outside of in-universe laws, though... The cube glows whatever it needs to whenever the story needs it to, almost always tipping the audience off to something before the characters themselves know it (i.e. Callum's burgeoning sky arcanum, the Moon Nexus as previously mentioned), or to help guide Callum to an epiphany (the cube helps him remember the pendant is a moon opal, which he then uses to help Rayla). This is also true in the way information about the key is presented (i.e. we know who Aaravos is when we learn it's his Key almost 2 full seasons before Callum does).
One of the longest running theories regarding the cube is that it would open itself, or open something, if all six primal sources were there to make it glow. This is still pretty reasonable (Callum probably could've experimented with 5/6 primal collections in the timeskip without ever having Star, as it's so rare) but he doesn't express any excitement over Stella having it if that was the case, nor have we ever seen it glow more than one primal at a time even if there'd be good reason(s) for it to. While the "6 primals at once" could still be how the cube is Unlocked (whatever that means) of course, it seems it has to be under those ultra specific collection circumstances to have anything glow more than one at a time, so it sows seeds of doubt for me that that's how it works.
#the key of aaravos#requests#thanks for asking#tdp meta#tdp#the dragon prince#mini meta#analysis series#analysis
16 notes
·
View notes
Note
yea i DO want an in depth explanation of how everyone relates to kit and ty
well this could be the longest post ever….. i talked about some of them already but i’ll give you some of my favorites rn and then probably go into the rest later <3
first i wanna talk about margaret of the map of tiny perfect things fame, i put her at the very beginning and the very end like bookends because that movie is about a timeloop and i thought it would be fun to like. begin and end the same you know… and then of course she’s just like ty because of how she let herself fall into that time loop as a metaphor for grief because she had this inability to let go of her mother and would have rather lived the same horrible day over and over again if it meant she didn’t have to live in a world without her mom. and she would have just made the map with mark and looked for all the small perfect moments within that day because she was too afraid of the bigger picture of life…. and then of course the whole movie is about mark trying to find a way OUT of the loop and he’s the one that helps her see the beauty in the ever changing nature of life and she’s only able to break the loop once she learns this…. like yeah well that needs to happen to my buddy ty!!!
another favorite is zombieland, i’m literally always saying that kit could do zombieland…. the thing about columbus zombieland is that well he’s a loser with no life and then it’s the end of the world and he survives by isolating himself from everyone. but he’s still trying to make it back to his family in ohio for one last chance at not being alone, and then he can’t do that but he finds a new family with tallahassee and witchita and little rock…. and well kit lovesss isolating himself as a way of protecting his heart but he still wants to be able to someday have a family, and he DOES now because he has tessa and jem and mina and jace and all the blackthorns…. also if you’ve seen the zombieland movies you’ll know that when columbus proposed in the sequel witchita immediately just left because she’s afraid of committing and her primary goal through the whole franchise has been to protect her sister so she used that as an excuse to run away from him… like. whatever. and then they killed a bunch of zombies together!!
little women is there because a) i was including as many things as i could think of that had multiple versions of the same characters. and b) because laurie’s whole deal is that he is so desperate to be a part of the march family that he would have married literally any of those girls. i’m not of the mindset that laurie only married amy as a consolation prize for losing jo, because i think he only wanted to marry jo because she happened to be his best friend and he wanted to be a part of her family. i think that laurie and amy were in love but i also think that it’s not like soulmate shit or anything they’re in love because they chose to be in love. i love amy’s speech in the 2019 adaptation about how she doesn’t think love just Happens and that if you just pick someone and commit to them that’s love enough to be meaningful. and i think her and laurie chose each other out of knowing that they wanted similar lives and could give each other something the other wanted and yes they loved each other as friends before they loved each other as more but it’s not necessarily a romcom situation with them. like they were in love but not because of some out of their hands fated romance deal you know. and i think there’s a similarity there to how kit and ty chose each other more so than it was fated. i know i’ve said a lot about them being like dated to be together although i don’t believe i’ve ever used that word. but i always mean it in the sense that they initially just picked each other and now they’re always going to be pulled together because of that. wow i just went on forever with this one huh ok moving on
some shorter explanations: twilight is there for the same reason little women is i think bella has the same thing wrong with her that laurie does. ari and dante get to be there because well we were all 15 together simple. allie and will get to be there because she’s the reincarnation of king arthur and we’ve all already established that kit is shadowhunter king arthur. do revenge is there for the toxic girl best friend-ism. enola holmes is there because it would have been wrong to not include literally the only sherlock holmes related media i have seen. benjamin is there because well he’s just like ty fr. handsome devil is there because when i watched that movie i saw my pal eddie dating amber be super annoying and i was like well i think he has kit herondale swag. and that was that i didn’t think about it beyond that. tangled is there for obvious reasons. fear street is there because sam and deena are insane about each other and also divorced and in a life threatening situation and also in love and well that is going to happen to ty and kit in twp
#who’s even left oh my god i’ve been typing forever…#oh of course the red white royal blue guys are there just because of the ring/key exchange thing that made me insane#we have all been here for any explanation we would need for that though.#asks#timeless video
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
oh no, he's in love? (k.m.g)
Mingyu knew that sleeping with you was a bad idea, especially when he learns that you’re now dating his son, Chan. He pulls himself back into reality and moves on from the situation, allowing the two of you to end the small fling without suspicion, or rather, he tries.
or the one where your re-established crush and now boyfriend, chan, finds out that his dad knows you better than he does.
― part one here!
ao3 | m.list | leave feedback and reblog to give mingyu a boner.
minors do not interact.
WORDCOUNT― 15.1k
PAIRING― dilf!mingyu x afab reader | chan x afab reader
CONTENT― angst, there is no daddy kink nor is there sub/dom dynamics involved with this fic, mingyu is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s.
SIDE CHARACTERS― chan as mingyu’s son, jihoon as chan’s ride home when ur mad at him
WARNINGS― borderline cheating, alcohol abuse, morally gray choices need to be made, chan disowns mingyu, reader can be lifted and carried by mingyu.
NOTE― *runs away very very fast, so fast that no one can catch me and make me face the trials of what this fic may have done to some of you* not proofread because hahahaha nope.
smut tags under cut::
smut tags :: pussy drunk mingyu, reader is almost entirely silent through the smut but you’ll get why, pussy devouring, kitchen counter sex, couch sex, missionary, eye contact, making out, finger fucking, cream pie/unprotected sex
~
You keep running through explanations in your head, more for yourself than anyone else. When you pushed that crush you had on Chan away, it was clearly because you were horny and he wasn’t picking up the hints. The crush never actually died, your interest just skewed to someone who appeared more ready to pleasure you when you needed it the most. The fact that it happened to have been Chan’s dad? Well, we just won’t talk about how that factors into it.
The explanation of an insatiable “horny level” high enough to fuck Mingyu? It manages to calm you down each time you’re actually with Chan. He’s entirely unaware of what happened between you and his father and you’d prefer to keep it that way, which is why you haven’t seen Mingyu in over a month, and why you avoid seeing him any further.
After that first night with Mingyu, you saw him a few times after and continued your little fling with him until Chan made himself more prominent in your life, more so than he already was. He made his feelings clear, he stepped up, he started hanging out with you one on one rather than consistently inviting you to parties with him. It was easy to fall back into your original mindstate about him especially without the alcohol being involved. Wanting to hold his hand, wanting to kiss him, wanting to touch him. He stepped up and asked you to be his girlfriend about a week after you stopped seeing Mingyu all together. You expected to be asked, in all fairness, so it was the right thing to do.
Mingyu never texted you nor did he ever call even before you stopped seeing him, he always just responded. You were thankful for that, despite remembering how you laid with him in his bed the last night you spent with him, wondering if that feeling in your stomach was something deeper than arousal. Small secretive hopes that those small words of “I never want to assume, that’s why I don’t text first.” with an even smaller explanation of “It’s not because I don’t want you.” would become something more.
Still, those budding hopes don’t matter now, as Chan continues to make himself the center of your love life. There is something on your mind that bothers you though. The fact that there could be a future together with Chan and knowing that you can’t avoid Mingyu forever.
God, you’re so right about that issue too, because of course Chan is happily texting you as the semester comes to an end. Of course he’s setting up dinner with his dad and inviting you to meet him properly for the first time.
You: chan, i’ve met your dad a billion times
Chan: yeah but not as my girlfriend!
You: fair but, i’ve already met him lol, i’d rather we just hang out without parents around
Your brain pounds at the idea of pretending you haven’t met Mingyu on levels deeper than you should have. It also pounds at the idea of seeing Mingyu’s reaction to you doing what you’re doing. He must think so lowly of you, to fuck him and still be brave enough to enter into a relationship with his son? You’re sure he already knows you’re dating him, but like, you’d rather not see him see it?
Chan: babe come on, i wanna do coupley things with you! just pretend you’ve never met him, plus he seemed cool with the idea and even said he can make up my old room if we wanted to sleep over.
The pit in your stomach grows at the very idea that you’ve never been in Chan’s old room before, but you’d been in Mingyu’s many times. Enough to remember the creak of the boards just at the base of his bedroom door, enough to know where he hangs his jacket outside of the closet, and which side of his bed he tends to sleep on the most.
Unfortunately, and with a world of reluctance, you know you can’t avoid Mingyu forever. The thought alone that he already knows drives the bubbles in your stomach up to your throat, leaving a bad taste in your mouth as you give in to your boyfriend. Chan, the one you chose, and the one you know you will continue to choose.
You: alright, alright. what should i wear?
Chan: can you wear that one skirt
You: NO
~
Now, after a long night of overthinking and trying to come up with an excuse to not see Mingyu again, you’re sitting on your bed wearing the exact skirt Chan wants you to wear, waiting for him to pick you up and drive you to the most awkward situation that could ever happen to you.
You’re really hoping he doesn’t opt to sleep there and expect you to be beside him. Something inside tells you that he’d be able to smell the weakness on you, or the nervousness around his father. After all, Chan is more mindful than you gave him credit for originally. Only having learned this through his never-ending string of apologies of never reciprocating your hints previously. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he had said, he just wasn’t sure if he was ready at the time.
That was, until he noted how you kind of backed off. He didn’t want to fumble a girl like you, and so, he leaped further than any man ever had done with you. Mindful, he is. Of himself, of you, hopefully not of anything else though. You’d really rather he not take note of any lingering memories in his childhood home regarding your naked body pressed against whatever surface Mingyu has had you against.
Trying to act like Mingyu hasn’t had you pressed against the washer in the laundry room is harder than you thought it would be. Trying to pretend you haven’t touched him, or kissed him, or made him moan is insanely difficult to do. Those images and sounds were burned into your mind the moment it happened, and even now, when you get intimate with Chan, you find yourself finding the differences between the two. Which is….not good.
For instance, Mingyu is bigger. All around, he loomed and could do absolutely anything he wanted to you, but he was polite and never took advantage of his size or age. He was gentle and kind, even when his deep thrusts hurt. He always kissed you when you winced, always told you to hold onto him, and always thanked you for taking him so well.
Chan, on the other hand is–a good size of course, not as thick or as long as Mingyu, body stature not nearly as big either but, the sex is hot, messy, clumsy even.
He’s cheeky and selfish for his pleasure, but so are you, so the dynamic is something that turns you on beyond belief. Having someone so eager to touch you felt amazing. Chan never quite knew where he wanted his lips, tongue, or fingers first and it always feels so good to let him determine that himself.
The first time you finally had him between your legs, you could argue that he gave you some of the best head you’d ever had. Until you remembered how Mingyu did it. How desperate someone twice your size and age was for you to get on his face, how ready he was to make you feel good even while neglecting himself. Chan doesn’t do that, he likes to hold you down when you squirm, and he certainly doesn’t allow himself to be neglected for too long.
Both of them fuck so differently, and both of them fuck exactly how you want them to. Or, wanted them to, if you’re talking about Mingyu. It’s just, you only know of the love from Chan and the presumed fantasy of what you think Mingyu’s love would feel like.
As you sit here, comfortable and pleased with your current sex life, you can’t help but miss the way you were held by Mingyu. His big arms felt so safe, even when you weren’t in any position to feel unsafe. You can’t compare the two, truly, but you still try. Internally wondering which is better despite already making the choice of being Chan’s girlfriend.
Naturally though, you cannot live your life through sexual hopes and dreams like this when you’ve got Chan right here, giving his all to you. So, you let it rest, even when the thoughts flood your mind.
The memories and thoughts of Mingyu will die as the days pass, right? As you and Chan establish a good foundation, and eventually fall into something more serious than just a mid-college relationship, right? There’s no harm in remembering fondly until that happens, right?
Right, well. You still have to officially meet Mingyu again, so.
Even now, as you’re with Chan and pulling into his father’s driveway, your brain finds itself reverting back to how Mingyu used to open the door for you when you were alone. Always that little smirk, always a tight and warm hug before it immediately turned to minty fresh kisses deepening by the second.
When he opens the door this time, he appears to be nothing but a doting father. One who doesn’t have desperate arousal pressing against his jeans when he looks at you. It’s a reminder that he isn’t opening this door for you alone this time. He’s not inviting you in to put those broad hands on your thighs to spread your legs open for him. No, he’s inviting you in for fucking dinner with your boyfriend. His son.
He doesn’t appear to be bothered though, nor does his eyes linger like they used to. He greets you the same way he greets Chan, only glancing at your hand in his son’s grasp for a moment before offering the two of you a smile.
“It’s about time I got to officially meet her.” Mingyu calls out with a chipper tone, reaching his hand out to you for a hand shake. “Now that you’re seeing me at a decent time, without dragging my insane child to the couch to sleep off his bad decisions, I’m the actual Mingyu.”
You reluctantly reach for his hand to shake it, the warmth of them no longer there from when he used to hold your hips or caress your cheek. They’re cold this time, but his smile is warm. You avoid eye contact, mostly looking straight past him rather than choosing to try and read his features.
“It’s kind of weird seeing you when the sun is out, Mr. Kim,” You comment, feeling a little bit shy about all of this despite how bold you normally are. “Kind of nice that we are all here to meet without Chan dry heaving against me.”
Mingyu pauses at the name you just called him, accepting it and dipping his head politely at you with a soft and accepting smile.
“Oh yeah, for sure.” Chan laughs, squeezing your hand in his and dragging you inside, forcing you to brush only slightly by Mingyu, who steps back to give you the space.
On one hand, that comment meant more than you meant it to, but it was also the truth. For one, you should never be calling your boyfriend’s dad by his actual name, and two, even if you never got to experience getting into Mingyu’s bed, still you’d have only met him in the middle of the night after wild college parties. Even those days when you slept over and went home the next morning, the sun was out but it didn’t change the fact that most of your waking hours with Mingyu were spent when the city was blanketed by night.
The atmosphere feels so awkward in these circumstances and the worst part is that they’re not supposed to. If you had just kept your hands to yourself, if Mingyu was just….not so fucking hot. Even now, as you avoid eye contact with him, you watch the way he steps around the kitchen with confidence as he prepares the last of the dinner. You watch the way his shirt squeezes his biceps and the way his fingers hold a bowl.
You are stupid to have come here so soon.
Unintentionally you rub your legs together as you watch him, as if your body will react regardless of what your heart tells you to do. Chan is off to the side moving his hand from the table and to your thigh, completely unaware that the movements from you are from unwanted arousal and not nervousness.
“What’re you being so shy for?” Chan whispers, squeezing your thigh with care, dipping his head down to make eye contact with you. “Like you said, you’ve already met him before.”
He has no idea that the simple touch to your thigh is driving you insane right now, and you can’t even react to it the way you want to because you wouldn’t know if you’d moan the wrong name if you end up being intimate with Chan here. It feels insanely overwhelming just sitting here at the dinner table and the worst part is that it absolutely should not be like this. As if that’s not already well established in your head,
“I know, but it’s weird pretending like it’s my first time meeting him.” You whisper back, trying to relax your body and keep your eyes on Chan.
You can’t help but feel like he can see straight through you, despite knowing there is absolutely no way in hell he could.
“It’ll feel better, don’t worry. I know you’ve only talked to him a few times, but he’s pretty down to earth.”
Chan really thinks you’ve only met Mingyu in passing when dropping him off. God, the guilt is overwhelming as you lean into him, dropping your head on his shoulder and sighing. You can’t even tell if this looks dramatic or awkward, but thankfully, Mingyu appears to be avoiding your eye much like you are for him.
When dinner is ready and the three of you are sitting together and eating, it does somehow get easier. The way Mingyu plays it off, the way he carries the conversation, the way he says he’s proud of Chan for finding such a nice girl, all of it makes you feel as though he’s decided to move forward. Like he’s genuinely okay with this, like he’s moved on and you were just a notch in his bedpost.
Which, it’s true, but you can admit that you feel uneasy with the way he no longer looks at you the way he once did.
Which is good, for him at least. You think you’ve moved on too, at least in a logical sense, but you can’t help but feel a little stab in your heart each time Mingyu acts in support of this relationship. Not that you wanted him to fight for you, or to be mad, it’s just that you really thought that maybe the two of you had a little fire starting together. Given, you’re the reason that was snuffed out, who are you to feel even the slightest bit upset that he’s being a supportive father?
After all, above all, he is the father of your boyfriend, and not just that notch in your bedpost. You have to co-exist with him for as long as you and Chan are together, it’s better that it’s this way.
There’s a relief in the way Mingyu appears to truly not mind. He still looks at you softly when your eyes do meet, but they’re not guilty or apologetic. This is how it’s supposed to be, it’s how it was always supposed to be.
“So, are you guys sleeping over?” Mingyu asks, grabbing his glass and taking a sip to wash down a bite of his food before looking between the two of you. “Chan, I made up your bedroom and hooked up one of the gaming systems.”
Chan nods with a fond smile before looking at you and tilting his head in question.
“Are you good to sleep over?” He asks you, hand going back to your thigh under the table and giving you another comforting squeeze.
You don’t want to, but Chan is still obnoxiously bad at picking up hints, so when you shrug he smiles and nods.
“Sounds good,” He smiles, looking back at his dad and taking another bite of his food. “This is nice.”
Mingyu hums in response.
“Yeah, it’s about time you brought someone home to meet me, I was starting to think you thought I was lame or something.”
Chan laughs, tipping his chair a bit as he pulls his hand from your thigh and slouches like the college boy he is.
“You are lame,” Chan jokes in a chuckle. “But really, dad, I just didn’t click with anyone until now.”
Mingyu pauses and then gives Chan another smile and a nod.
“That’s really good to hear.” He compliments, standing to his feet to take his dishes to the sink.
~
You try not to be too touchy with Chan while you’re here. You’re too hyper aware of what it feels like to be touched in this house and what it does to your mind. Unfortunately, Chan is the perfect type of boyfriend you would have yearned for before all of this happened.
He’s touchy, he’s clingy, he’s needy. Honestly, he’s all over you after dinner. On the couch he used to drunkenly sleep on, his hand is planted to your thigh, drawing little hearts with his fingertips. His lips are constantly in search of yours when Mingyu sees himself out of the room, usually to grab a drink or to go to the bathroom.
It’s not that you pull away, but you kind of do. He seems understanding enough, knowing that you likely just feel awkward being all touchy in his dad’s house.
“He’s not even in here,” Chan prods gently, kissing against your neck. “And you look so good today.”
You both love and hate how into you he can be. It’s something you think you’ll give in to time and time again, but still, you feel like you’re morally at a wall when he does it here.
Even by the time the two of you make your way to Chan’s old room, you find yourself staring at the door Mingyu has closed behind you several times. His door. You know the layout of his bedroom like the back of your hand, every creak of his floor, every pattern on his window curtains.
The guilt stays with you the entire time you’re here, and you really just can’t wait to leave. It feels like you’re a prisoner of your own fucking brain at this point, and honestly? You want to go to sleep and not spend another waking moment with your fucking boyfriend within these walls, ever. It’s too overwhelming, too awkward, and in all honesty, kind of painful with the way Mingyu seems entirely unbothered.
You’re trying to be unbothered too, even as Chan lays you down in his old bed and crawls on top of you.
“If we’re quiet...” He starts, trying to lean down to kiss you, trying to love you the way you usually like it. But he’s quick to take note of your body language, with the way you almost curl in on yourself as he makes his attempt.
“Hey,” He soothes, rolling off of you and clinging to your side. “It’s okay.” He continues, whispering to you and peppering little kisses against your shoulder. “We don’t have to.”
You nod quietly, turning to face him and looking at him.
“It’s not that I don’t want to.” You say, trying to make him feel less bad about it. “I just don’t think I can physically get turned on in your dad’s house.”
A lie.
He chuckles at you with a nod.
“Would you rather not sleep here tonight?” He asks, like, genuinely asks in a way to try and make things more comfortable.
You nod, feeling a bit bad and like you’re making a big deal about it, even though to him, you’re not.
“Come on, we can go back to your place.” He says, both of you still very much awake and not entirely ready for bed anyway.
“Won’t he wonder why we’re leaving?” You ask, tilting your head. “I mean, he made up your room and everything.” You nod your head to the gaming system sitting untouched, ready for use.
“Nah, he’s just nice like that. He won’t mind.”
And, well, Mingyu really didn’t seem to care. Which, arguably, makes you feel stupid for being worried about it at all.
In fact, he barely gave either of you a nod when Chan opened the familiar bedroom door to say goodbye for the night. Both of you waving politely to him with no excuse or reason as to why you’re not staying.
You’re aware that Mingyu knows why though. Which is probably why he didn’t offer an ounce of care or confusion when the two of you inevitably stood at his door to tell him.
At the end of the day? This visit was tortuous only because you made it so. In your head, it’s hard to pretend. Fortunately though, Mingyu seems to have no fucking problem forgetting that you’ve ever spent a single moment alone with him.
You try not to hurt over it.
~
Chan has this effect over you where as long as the two of you are together, he calms you to the point that you almost forget about Mingyu entirely. That is, of course, until you’re actually face to face with Mingyu himself and you have no other choice but to recognize the choices you’ve made.
Thankfully, there isn’t much of a reason to be around him despite being in a committed relationship with his son, and that only gives you more of a reason to fall back into a comfortable mind state the second you’re out of that all too familiar childhood home of your boyfriend.
Every single time, without fail and completely without intention, Chan manages to remind you with every kiss and touch that you’re where you’re supposed to be. With him, beside him, under him, just…anywhere with him. It feels so right when your brain isn’t running a mile a minute over the hidden secrets within yourself.
You can genuinely say that Chan makes you happy. You can even say that you’ve never been happier in a relationship with another person. Never more comfortable, never more safe. So, when the two of you are invited to a semester-end party over at Jihoon’s place just a week later, it’s natural that both of you jump for the opportunity.
After all, it’s been a while since you last attended a party at all, and Chan has since calmed down as well once the two of you got exclusive. It’s nice, really, without the alcohol flowing and heightened emotions.
Every conversation from before, up to Chan asking you to be his girlfriend was sobering and pleasant. If anything, having a couple of drinks now that the two of you are falling into a routine together would be a nice change of pace for the night.
The two of you deserve this relaxation together anyway, for sure you do. After how you felt dealing with Mingyu face to face, after a rough semester, after fucking passing your exams, fuck yes you’re going to go to this party and let loose with a boyfriend you’re growing to love so dearly.
You can tell Chan is excited too by the glint in his eye and that fond smile as he watches you get dressed and ready beside him.
“I won’t drink much so we can go back to my place and cuddle up later?” is what he whispered to you as you pinned your hair out of your face. You were happy to hear him take responsibility for what used to be a somewhat of a drinking problem.
Unfortunately, his promise of not drinking much became more and more empty as the night went on.
For the first hour, he seemed to stick to his words. Sipping on one single drink up until the end of the hour and he goes for another. Then another, and another, up until he goes off for “one more” only to be lost in the crowd of people wandering around jihoon’s frat house.
You stand in wait, swaying to the beat with a mere drink and a half sloshing around in your belly as you think to yourself. It’s okay. He’s just letting loose for the first time in weeks and you don’t want to seem like a pushy girlfriend or a mood kill during the middle of a party that you both very much deserve to attend.
You and Chan being in the relationship doesn’t mean neither of you get the freedom to have fun and get absolutely plastered, even if there was a slight promise of doing no such thing. You want him to have fun after the stressful semester. Especially considering how you had to practically force him to study just so he could get his GPA up.
You want him to not feel guilty for drinking a little too much like he’s done so many times before. If anything, you need to be the supportive girlfriend, letting him lean on you and leave slobbery, wet kisses down your jaw through drunken slurs of love and adoration towards you.
Are you a bit disappointed? Yes, of course you are. But you also don’t mind going with the flow, so flow you do. Back and forth through the rooms, mingling with Jihoon, Joshua, that one guy, and that other girl. You’re having a great time chatting it up with relaxed and giggly friends, feeling like maybe you could even use another drink or two, up until– oh.
Chan. Right there against the back door with some pretty drunken girl petting on his arm. Giggling, dipping her face, all while he says something to her with the same snicker and smirk he typically gives to you during a date or just before an intimate moment with you.
Suddenly, you remember when you let that fleeting crush on him dwindle as time passed. Sure, partially it was because of Mingyu but there was still another side to it. This side of Chan. When he’s drunk and entirely out of his mind around pretty girls and strong beverages. Always so single looking, always so flirty, never picking up hints.
He never picked up the hint that you liked him, and while he explained that away to you, watching him now makes you feel like all of those words were just to save face. He didn’t pick up the hints then, and he certainly isn’t picking up the hints now as your face falls to that of a frustrated glare. The girl notices, raises her brow at you, and then looks back at your boyfriend.
Chan barely glances at you but when he does, it’s almost like you didn’t come here with him at all. It’s almost like neither of you ever even started dating in the first place.
Is this all it takes? A couple of drinks and one pretty girl for him to lose all interest in you? What about you though? Is this all it takes for you to completely lose all interest?
You’re the only one with a right to lose interest, arguably.
Considering the way Chan looks at her, the way his hands reach for her.
There, a girl who isn't you, to be specific. He practically ignores any hint of discomfort from you while simultaneously allowing this girl to cling all over him, run her fingers through his hair, and even so much as sipping from his drink. She glances at you again.
She fucking smirks at you.
You’re dumbfounded, appalled, and overwhelmed with rage within an instant as you stand and watch. Each person who steps in front of you or between you and your boyfriend appear to be entirely invisible as you watch, because you can’t recall a single second where you weren’t seeing the two of them up against that fucking door clear as day.
It’s like he’s reverted back to every doubt you ever had about him, that safety you had started growing accustomed to being ripped out from under you by some woman who you’re sure he hasn’t even caught the name of yet.
Does it hurt? Tremendously for the amount of time you’ve been with him. A few weeks shouldn’t hurt this badly to lose.
And it’s not hard, really, to take what’s yours, or rather to throw away what’s supposed to be yours. It never really has been when it comes down to situations that force you to act on instinct. After all, Chan was the one who got serious with you. He’s the one who asked you to be exclusive. He’s the one who finally jumped in after you’d been dipping your toes in to encourage him for ages.
And now, he’s going to fucking explain himself. You deserve to know why your boyfriend of just over a month and a half, who was previously your best fucking friend, manages to grow bored with you within the blink of an eye. If Chan can’t handle being in a relationship while alcohol is involved, he’s going to have a big decision to make. Right here.
Right now.
You make your way towards them, all while glaring at the woman with her hands in your boyfriend’s hair as she makes her pathetic attempts to dance sexy against him. Chan, on the other hand, is so fucking dazed and in his own world that you can argue you don’t know this man at all.
“Chan.” That’s all you say to have him raising a brow, looking at you as if you’re interrupting something.
“What’s up babe?” He responds nonchalantly, smiling at you and leaning into the girl.
You pause, taking a breath as you stare them both down with a grimace.
“Can you leave?” You demand more than ask towards the girl, and she scoffs only for a moment before Chan takes it upon himself to shrug her off of him and shake her away.
You watch as she rolls her eyes and walks away, and never in your life have you wanted to slap another woman so badly. The worst part is that it isn’t even her fault that this is happening. Chan clearly didn’t tell her that he, you know, has a fucking girlfriend.
“What the fuck was that?” You dead pan, staring straight at Chan and forcing him out of a state of bliss with your tone.
“Babe, babe. Relax.” He slurs, smiling and chuckling throughout the words. “Just having fun!”
You stare at him dumbfounded. Offended. Fucking appalled yet again.
“Are you joking?” You roll your eyes much like the woman did, crossing your arms and fidgeting on your feet. “If I’d known that you would suddenly become single from getting shitfaced then maybe we wouldn’t have come to the party at all.”
“Oh, so now you want to control me?” Chan shoots back in another slur of words. “First you force me to study, now you’re trying to make me stop having fun? Such a fucking buzz-kill.”
You sigh, unsure as to why you thought he wouldn’t be so stubborn. Then again, you know drunk Chan better than you do the sober one.
“I really thought that once we started dating, you’d be more mindful of this. Of us.” You nearly plead now, reaching for his cup only to watch him pull it out of your reach like a child. “You need to stop drinking.”
Chan just stares at you now. You watch him try to adjust his eyes forward, and already you’re aware that he’s seeing two of you. His expression gives you nothing more than a feeling of disgust, knowing well enough that drunk words are more truthful than the sober ones.
“Chan, you’re cheating on me already.” You try to explain the gravity of the situation again.
“I’m not cheating. I told you, I was just having some fun.” He explains away with a dopey smile, moving his weight to his other leg and blatantly stumbling over nothing as he sways himself back into a shitty-show of drunken balance.
“Yes, because it’s fun to have another woman’s hands all over you when I’m literally right fucking here?”
Only now are you actually shocked by his response.
All he does is shrug at you with that same smile. One you’d normally want to kiss right off of his face because it’s so cute and endearing.
But no. Instead, you feel disgust. No hurt, no pain, just…you feel gross. Embarrassed, even.
“This is childish. We’ve barely been dating over a month.” You state as a fact, uncaring if he can process the words at all. “I’m not doing this. We’re done. Have Jihoon take you back to your place.”
And before he can even fathom saying something back to you, you leave.
~
It’s a very bad feeling to walk into a party arm in arm with someone you imagine being with for a long time, and then walking out of that same party not three hours later alone, and seemingly broken up.
You meant what you said though, even if you could practically see your words go through one of his ears and out the other. It’s too early in the relationship to be dealing with that. Arguably, there should never be a time in a relationship actually, where you have to practically force someone out of your boyfriend’s too-welcoming grasp.
Ah, it’s shameful really. Given that you did your best to be a good girlfriend to him despite what happened with his dad, yet he couldn’t even offer you the decency of at least pretending to love you while drunk?
You really didn’t pay much mind to his drinking until now. You knew he was a bit of a mess before but most college kids are, you thought. Seeing it first hand and how it can impact your relationship though? Yeah, Chan has a drinking problem and it’s one you’re not willing to work through with him.
Partially because you’re hurt by what he’s doing and partially because the guilt of everything that happened before you started dating stresses you the fuck out.
Maybe it’s better that you keep your distance from not only Mingyu, but Chan too.
And you know, that sounds like such a great idea. You could start over, you could find someone new and slowly get to know them before eventually falling in love, getting married, so on and so forth.
And as you simmer over the frustration, too, too sober, you jump into your car and start driving. Where? You’re not sure. The path you’re going doesn’t lead to home at all, but you continue nonetheless. Paying too-close attention to each stop sign and red light, until–
Well.
Is it really so shocking to find yourself here of all places?
It’s a quick trip up the steps and the knocks you lend the door are even quicker.
There’s so much resentment inside of you at this moment when none other than Mingyu creaks the front door open. His son just fucked you over, his son was supposed to be a good boyfriend, his son just threw you away for some girl at a fucking frat party and you want to know why.
Sure, you should be standing in front of Chan right now to get the answers, but you’re not. You’re here. You’re fucking here, on Mingyu’s front porch, glaring at him much like you’d be glaring at his son.
Mingyu, on the other hand, is shocked to see you at his door by yourself. He reluctantly lets you inside without a word spoken. He sees the expression on your face and can’t help but feel the anxiety in his gut bubble up to his throat.
There’s tension in the air as he looks at your eyes, noting that they appear to be a bit raw.
“What happened?” Mingyu asks, standing by the door with a look of concern as you make your way to his kitchen as if you have the right. “Where’s Chan?” He adds in a voice with even more concern.
To you, as you sigh and look at him when he makes his way into the kitchen behind you, all you can see is that same protective father from the night you and Chan almost slept over.
“I broke up with him.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how glassy and wet they feel.
No, you won’t cry over this.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” He tilts his head with question, and you know he has more to say about it but you don’t really care to indulge him right now.
“Did you raise him to be that way?” You ask, looking down and feeling frustrated. “To get bored of a relationship after a few weeks?”
Part of you knows these words include double edged swords. Who else would Chan have learned this from, anyway? With Mingyu and his all-too-caring hands acting like there’s a fucking spark somewhere in the room when you’re with him to Chan doing the exact same thing only to have both of them act as if you moving on isn’t a bother?
“I most certainly did not teach him that.” Mingyu defends himself with a huskier tone than he’s ever used with you before. “What did he do?”
“This girl was all over him tonight and when I split it up he got annoyed with me over it.” You sigh, rolling your eyes as you plop down on a bar stool. “Practically told me I was trying to control him, so I broke up with him.”
“Ah,” Mingyu nods, leaning against the counter. “He must have been drinking. I did tell him he needed to slow down on it, but he doesn’t exactly listen to me.”
“He doesn’t listen to fucking anyone.” You throw your arms up, eyes threatening to tear up against your will.
Not because you’re sad, but for so many reasons aside from that. One, you just broke up with Chan. Two, you ran to fucking Mingyu over it? Three, you miss Mingyu and that’s the obvious reason as to why you’re here but that doesn’t make it right. And, well, four, the fact that he didn’t immediately smile and kiss you upon learning you’re single again is beyond frustrating.
Mingyu really did move on.
He really did let you cut it off.
There’s a long moment of silence before you hear Mingyu sigh and look at you, studying your face with a tense jaw.
“Well,” He starts, “Is there a reason you came here over this? I don’t know what you want me to say.”
You’re not sure why those words shock you, but they do. In reality, from outside of yourself anyway, you can see how strange it must be that you came running to snitch on Chan. What’s worse is that Mingyu probably thinks you have some sort of ulterior motive behind being here.
Which, yeah, maybe you did. In your rush of frustrations even you didn’t understand why you ended up here over this. Maybe part of you did want the comfort from him. Maybe you do want him to side with you, and hug you close despite being the one who broke it off.
Still, Chan did fuck up.
What part of your breakup should lend you the opportunity to come running back here though? You ghosted Mingyu to date his son. What gives you the right to be sitting in his kitchen right now? What do you expect him to say about all of this?
“Oh, I’m so sorry babe, let me make it better.” or “I knew he couldn’t treat you the way I can.”
Ah, fantasies. All of them are fantasies. As much as you’d love for Mingyu to say these things to you, realistically, he wouldn’t.
He couldn’t.
And somehow, knowing that and realizing it hurts a little more than breaking up with Chan. It’s proof that Mingyu lost interest in you too. Hell, you’re sure he lost interest the second he learned of you dating Chan. Given that he was suspiciously supportive of it, and that he even seemed happy about it?
Perhaps he was just happy that whatever you and him had going on was over. Maybe he was relieved that he didn’t have to ghost you himself.
Maybe you were stupid to involve yourself in any of this. Stupid to so boldly seduce Mingyu, stupid to willingly jump into a relationship with Chan, stupid to somehow believe that Mingyu would care at all about the situation as a whole.
You guess the two really are alike, and that Mingyu did raise Chan to be cold and uncaring when the mood strikes him.
“I guess you’re right.” You sigh, sniffling once and wiping your face before shooting up and onto your feet. “I really shouldn’t have come here.” You avoid his eye contact, feeling too many emotions to be willingly seen right now. “and I think I should go home.”
He looks at you, nodding slowly.
“Yeah, that would be best.”
Stupid. You feel so fucking stupid.
And as Mingyu watches you turn away from him, he can hear your sniffles. The way your shoulders tense to try and hide that you’re feeling embarrassed and utterly pathetic, he tries not to give in to that emotion.
Yeah, you guys had sex. He knew it was wrong, but even so, he would still feel a pull in his chest to find his son’s girlfriend crying in his kitchen over something that happened. Whether he slept with you or not, it’s only human to want to comfort someone.
But he can’t. Given the circumstances, if Mingyu so much as closes distance, he fears that you’ll see it as an invitation. Or perhaps, he will treat it as one himself. Now isn’t the time, and never should it have been time to invite you into his bed the way he did previously.
He needs to be careful in this situation, regardless of how his heart pulls.
Never did he want to see you hurting internally like this.
And so, he tries to leave it alone. He tries to block out the sound of your shuffled footsteps walking away from him, and even harder does he try to block out those silenced sniffles from you.
You feel so out of it as you make your way to the door. How you got into this situation isn’t too difficult to understand though. It was so easy to fall into it, and goddamn did it feel good at first. Now though? Ah, it hurts.
Sure, you liked a guy and he turned out to be an asshole. That’s something that has and will happen to you time and time again, but you guess the whole fucking his dad thing makes it a lot worse in your head.
Even so, you don’t know why you thought you could come to Mingyu for comfort. Like he’d wisp you off your feet and throw his own child under the bus. Your ego needed a check, and goddamn did both of these guys give it to you.
That’s his son and you’re just…a girl.
To think you’re really alluring enough to keep Chan from straying his eye…to think you’re enough to get Mingyu to side with you and touch you again?
So fucking stupid.
And god, this walk to Mingyu’s front door feels damning. You swear hours pass with each step but you’re sure it’s only been a few seconds.
You realize that when you step past that front door, it’ll be the last time you’ll ever be in this house. The last time you’ll ever feel the gravel of this driveway under your tires, the last time Mingyu will ever see you walk away from him.
It wells up inside you when you reach for the doorknob, unable to wait much longer to just move on from all of this. You want to lock it all behind this front door, instead of living with it yourself, forcing Mingyu to do it instead.
Then, in a sudden twist of fate, you feel your body shiver at a rush of cold air behind you followed by warm arms wrapping you up entirely.
You feel as if the breath is knocked out of you at the feeling, that cold door knob in your palm radiating with heat now as your hand is pulled away from it. You’re pulled from the door entirely, actually, and a rush of emotions hits you when you feel Mingyu’s broad chest against your back.
You can’t help it.
The tears on your cheeks are more from frustration than sadness, and you’re quick to try and wipe the arms that the tears fall against, but he still just holds you there. Strong arms forcing you into a reality that felt so far out of reach just moments before, forcing those warm tears to continue falling out of disbelief now, rather than frustration.
You’d love to believe that this is just your mind playing tricks on you. Knowing you came here just to see if Mingyu would let you waste another night without Chan and with him. Running on emotions, really. It’s a trait you should probably work on, but really. You do wish it wasn’t real. That these arms around you really are just phantom weight that your heart is conjuring up.
That the chin dropping to your left shoulder isn’t a man that’s been violating your thoughts time and time again.
That this isn’t exactly what you want.
“Don’t hate me.” Mingyu whispers against his better judgment. He can’t help it though, the need to think of himself upon watching you touch that fucking doorknob hit him harder than anything else could have just moments ago.
He never wanted to be in competition with his son, but fuck. He wants to at this point. He knows he can be what you need and he wants to be what you need so badly. Does he understand why? Of course he doesn’t. Something about this is so wrong and he knows exactly why it’s wrong. Does it stop him though?
It almost did.
“I don’t want you to leave here hating me.” He continues.
The whisper against your neck feels so warming, sending goosebumps all over your body but you try to stay where you are. Even with your knees buckling under you, even when he holds you up and tighter against him.
It’s the first time in several weeks since you’ve felt these arms around you. And fuck, you thought you’d be able to get over how they feel, you really thought that this heavy and overwhelmingly gentle grip would be a thing of the past. After all, it’s all you needed it to be, but here you are, feeling heartbroken over the fact that you kept yourself from this for far too long already.
You feel butterflies in your stomach flutter up to your throat, swallowing around a pathetic whimper of emotional release.
“Just stay the night.” Mingyu adds after hearing your whimper, somehow holding you impossibly closer.
You stand frozen, listening to his words and wondering if this is real. You feel too warm to pretend it’s not happening though, and it takes a moment to work up the courage to turn in his grasp.
You almost forgot what it felt like to not be teased or played with. Chan really was so playful with you, to the point that it almost felt cruel at times. Mingyu though, the way he steps back and gives you the space to simply look at him? Gives you the time and space to contemplate the situation and decide whether or not you want to navigate it at all?
At this moment, looking at him and his apologetic stare, seemingly feeling sorry that you’re going through what you’re going through while simulationaly wanting you, you can’t help but let the feelings for Chan die once and for all.
If you’re really about to do this with Mingyu, you can’t do the back-and-forth again. You have to choose, and the choice is so fucking obvious.
Arguably, it’s always been obvious.
And as you keep eye contact with Mingyu, you can see something in his head break. That softened look in his eye turning to something….unabashedly crazed. As if to tell you to take the reins before he does it himself. It serves as a pleasant reminder that you’re not the only one weak when it comes to being alone together.
You’re not the only one with guilt, temptation, and lack-of-care for morals when the two of you are together.
You’re not alone in this.
Mingyu is falling just as quickly as you are.
Tumbling, spinning, fucking rolling in the idea that this doesn’t have to end.
Honestly, with the matching gaze, Mingyu almost wishes you would walk away from this. From him. He almost wishes you could be smarter than he is in this situation. Wishes you were stronger than him and stronger than this.
But he’s thankful that you’re not, because having the ability to watch you blink up at him like this again is flooring. In fact, he’s spent countless nights trying to push this very image out of his head due to respect for his son.
Where is that respect now?
Nowhere within him, and god is he thankful for it. Why should he have respect for a relationship that’s no longer there? Why should he continue to deny, deny, deny?
He’s not in denial anymore, not with those pretty eyes looking at him like this. Not with those lips parting for each hopeful breath. Not with those hands gripping onto him for dear life, hoping for nothing more than a hug but knowing there’s so much more behind said hug.
God, he’s melting again. For you, he’s fucking melting.
“You need to tell me to stop, right now,” He says in a hopeless whisper, as if someone else can hear him. “Because I’m tired of pretending I have self control around you.”
And you react to those words with another pretty blink and a short shake to your head. Solidifying that he isn’t alone in the need, that he isn’t insane to want this, that he isn’t hated by you.
It doesn’t take much, really, for him to take a step backwards. He can feel you walk with him, so he continues, walking back, back, back. Your body instinctively follows him, and you think you would follow him to the ends of the earth if you could.
Back. Back. Back. Until the two of you are in the kitchen again, and his back hits the kitchen counter, sending a roll of paper towels to topple over and fall onto the floor. Neither of you pay attention to it, and instead hold each other in wait.
When he drops his hands slightly, loosening his grip around your waist, he breathes out once before licking his bottom lip and fixing his gaze on your lips.
To think either of you have self control at this moment is insane. He knows it, you know it, and god fucking damn, the entire universe would know it if they could so much as feel the electricity in this room.
A single blink more up at him leaves him nearly breathless. No more waiting, no more offering space for if you want to pull away. No more outs. He swoops down and lands his lips on yours like he never stopped before. Like it’s natural, like this is where his lips are supposed to be.
And all he can think of at this moment is hoping you never tell him to stop. Hoping that you’re both lost in this situation enough to experience something together just once more, if that’s all it can be. Even if this is all the two of you can be, he wants it. For as long as he can have it, he fucking wants it.
You feel that want through his harsh kisses. Like he’s trying to swallow you up, so intimate with it, so into it. Pouring his whole soul into the way he moves his tongue against yours, the experience behind the way he breathes as he kisses is just as flooring as it always has been. Even now, you don’t compare it to the way Chan kissed you. Mingyu became the standard for everything in your head before, and it was silly for you to ever think someone else could take over that role. There is no comparing Mingyu to anyone else.
Silly, silly fucking thoughts. Logical thinking be damned, Mingyu was the logical choice all along. Morality bringing him down to a fucking notch in your bedpost? An insult. There’s something here, and to ever think that the two of you “just fucked” is so demeaning and belittling.
You knew there was something there. And now, he’s proving it after spending too much time pretending that he couldn’t.
You feel him move you, pushing forward, deepening the kiss and still managing to spin both of you around so that he’s pinning you against the counter now.
“Missed the way you held onto me,” he says breathlessly, lifting your leg and holding it against his waist. “Missed the way you look at me.” He adds, more mindlessly than he has ever been, seemingly lost in the moment with you. “The way you just came into my bedroom and– fuck, i think about it so much.”
No words have ever hit your heart so hard before. As if all this time he was pretending to be okay with your relationship. As if he did care, probably too much.
As if he truly did miss you.
And he proves it with every breath, grasp, kiss, and movement. It’s like he doesn’t have enough time in the world actually, to have you up against him like this. He almost rushes himself with it, pressing you more against the counter than against himself now.
It only takes a few seconds for him to hoist you up on the counter and shrink down himself. Now he’s the one blinking up at you with fond concern on his face, fingers tugging at your shorts to imply he needs them fucking gone ten minutes ago.
Your breath hitches for what you think could be the millionth time since you got here, but you lend him a little lift to get your shorts and panties off in one go.
“Ahh,” He coos after tossing your clothing to the side mindlessly, both hands gripping your legs and spreading them wide as he stands back up to his full height and fits himself against you again. “Still so pretty,” He continues his string of compliments to you, dipping his head down just to get another taste of your lips on him.
His mind is entirely unsure of what to do first now that your bottoms are off, really. He’s spinning for you, and his hands search and grip all over you at the very idea that you’re propped up on his kitchen counter right now.
The same counter he used to cook dinner for you and his son.
Like a fucking dream.
And you can feel how hard he is when he presses against you more and more. His kiss so deep, his hips against you and reminding you of everything he’s made you feel before. Already you feel like you’re flying, but you know better than anyone that he has all the ability in the world to make you feel as if you’re fucking soaring.
“Mingyu–” You choke out between kisses, trying to get a word in. “Let me.”
And just like the first time he ever felt your hands on him, he feels the way your palm slides down and cups his length to its best ability. His eyes go blank, the feeling so familiar and good to him that all he can do is throw his head back with a breathy chuckle.
“Fuck, missed you.” He states as if it’s final, pressing his hips more and more against your palm as he dips right back down to kiss you even harder than before. “You have no idea.”
And then it’s like a spiral of messy, wet kisses, and his hips going from needy thrusts against your weak hand to suddenly having your hands gripping the edge of the counter as he sinks down and just…
“God,” You gasp at the first feeling of his warm tongue. “Mingyu…”
He’s not tasting, he’s devouring.
And he doesn’t respond, instead, he flutters his eyes shut and breathes deeply through his nose so that he never needs to pull his tongue out of you again.
It’s like he can’t get enough of it. Never has he missed the taste of a woman on him like this, so wet and pretty when he’s licking. More and more dripping out of you just for him to swallow up and daydream about later.
His tongue has a mind of its own at this moment when he flicks and sucks every part of you he can reach. Your clit only abandoned momentarily so he can lick deep into you before trailing back up with a deep and heavenly sigh of relief.
His hands remain at your thighs, gripping you so tightly that you can tell he’s afraid you may dissolve in front of him. That all of this is just some wet dream that he’ll wake up from just before his own release.
But no, you’re here. In the flesh, feeling this grip and feeling that feverish tongue greedily eat you from the inside out. Both of you are seemingly overwhelmed with the fact that it’s happening again. Or rather, finally you’re together again.
And you can’t help it when your fingers find purchase in his hair, moaning out and echoing his name against his kitchen walls. He moans alongside you, feeling those gentle fingers scratch against his scalp in such a sweet and pleasurable way.
If he could show you how much he needs this, he would. But this is all he can do for you to prove it, and he hopes that it’s enough.
It isn’t long before he’s losing composure, flicking his tongue so fast against your clit that you can’t help but overpower his grip and close your legs around his head. He chuckles against your clit at that, keeping up with the assault of his tongue, listening to the way you pant above him, feeling you pull his hair, all while your legs unintentionally choke him out.
Fuck, it’s too good. You’re too good.
So, he continues and laps away like his life depends on it up until you practically lift from the counter, using your legs around his shoulders as your only form of balance when you press so hard against his tongue that all he can do is press back.
He has no breath at this moment, sucking your clit so hard into his mouth that his cock, quite literally, nearly explodes in his pants right then and there at the sheer desperation you share with him at this moment.
And then your legs instantly loosen and you fall limp against the counter, your cum pouring out of you with each clench and shake of your body. It takes everything in him to pull his tongue away, but fuck, he needs to swallow those pretty, whined little sounds you’re giving to him.
Quickly, he slides two fingers into you, fucking them in hard just to feel the clench of you through your orgasm, and his lips are immediately sucking your bottom lip between his teeth.
Your mouth is slack as he tastes each sound, out of breath himself as he tries to lend all of his power behind his fingers, pulling more sounds from you before sinking them in one last time and leaving them there as he kisses the last of your orgasm out of you.
“Shh,” He shushes you when he uses his other arm to pull you closer to him, which only forces his fingers deeper into you. “Baby, shh.” He continues to soothe you through it, still kissing, still feeling your slick gush around his fingers. “You’re shaking.”
That little chuckle he lets out when he says those words brings you back to reality, the body-shocks of your orgasm finally subsiding just to tune in to the lack of guilt he feels. In fact, he seems proud.
And he fucking should feel proud.
“Fuck,” You breathe against his lips, wiggling your hips and only then feeling embarrassed by the pool of wet you’re sitting in. “Mingyu, fuck.”
He finally pulls back, keeping his fingers in you still, and tilts his head at you.
“Mm,” He hums, nodding to himself. “Did you forget?”
You blink at him in a daze, clenching his fingers unintentionally and wincing at the jolt of pleasure the pads of his fingers offer to your g-spot. You find yourself shaking your head, despite not knowing what the fuck either of you are saying right now.
“Forget how much I love using my mouth on you?” He whispers it in such a filthy and deep whisper that almost instantly you’re clenching your legs around his hand. And he only chuckles again.
“Come here–” He says this time, pulling you from the counter and quickly holding you up on shaky legs. “Hold on to me, sweetheart.”
Ah, memories rush to your mind. He’s said that to you before only this time there’s more behind it. You cling to him easily even as he dips his hand down and leaves no room for question when he skews his sweatpants down.
“Leg,” He whispers now, wrapping an arm around you and tapping the bottom of your right thigh. “Up.”
And you listen to his directions in a daze, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his waist as he uses a strong hand to hold you up. Both of your arms shoot around his neck when you feel it, the tip of his cock being tapped against your still sensitive clit.
“You okay?” He asks one last time, holding you so close to him that he truly can’t help but buck forward before you lend him any sort of answer.
Your head falls against his shoulder with a frantic nod, and his body moves on its own as a response. He immediately presses his hips forward and up while simultaneously sitting you right back into your mess from before. There, you fall back against both of your palms and wrap both of your legs around his waist when you feel the stretch.
It’s so strange to know this familiar feeling of him sinking into you, and somehow you think you love it more now than you ever did before.
He’s quick to lean over you with a slack jaw and low rumble of a moan, one arm wrapping around your waist to scoot you forward on him when he starts to move his hips.
Slowly at first. Just feeling you again.
His mouth remains slack, throat drying out at all of the sounds he wants to give you. God, you’re so wet for him always. The fit is so good. The way your pussy grips him with each drag out, only to pulse around him with each push in.
“You always take it so well–” He chokes out with another low moan, snapping his hips forward to quicken his pace. “Fuck, don’t ever–” He stumbles over his words, trying to hold them back but unintentionally saying more and more with each moaned out breath. “Don’t leave like that again.”
The words hit you harder than anything else right now. Even as he plunges his cock in and out of you so deep, it pulls nothing more than a whimper out of you with a quick shake of your head. You shoot up, arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers buried into his hair.
Instantly you cry. Like you needed to hear Mingyu do more than just ask or plead. You need him to tell you what he wants. You need a threat. A demand.
“That’s it baby,” He smiles against your ear, pressing in deep and flexing his cock to stretch your walls out around him. “Hold onto me.”
And you do. You hold him as tightly as you can, feeling him and only him at this moment.
He only moves faster after that, fucking into you with more force than you ever remember him doing before. He presses into you so hard, and pulls out even faster, only to press back in harder, and harder, and harder.
Over and over again until you’re practically yelping through each thrust. Until he’s releasing small, animalistic grunts.
Until he can’t do it anymore. This position, in this room? It’s not enough.
He lifts you easily, loving the way you cling to him like a goddamn koala, keeping his cock buried into you as he walks you quickly to his couch. You land against the soft cushions in a mess of movements, and his hardened chest lands against you just a moment later.
As if he never stopped, he’s right back to dragging his hips back and forth, this time with more comfort, and his lips immediately fall to your neck.
His hands? Right up your shirt, groping, pinching, pushing, pulling.
He’s going absolutely insane, spiraling into a world of nothingness with you as he plunges into you like his life depends on it. Grunting and breathing you in and out, feeling his own weeping cock yearn to be deeper, deeper, fucking deeper in you.
You can’t even think straight, unable to remember if he’s ever been with you like this before. Your mind is so foggy, so in love with the man on you right now that you don’t really even care.
People always say that actions speak louder than words. Never once did you imagine that a person could move this way with you and speak so loudly with skin alone.
Never have you felt so wanted.
Never have you been so needed.
And he doesn’t stop. His hips keep pace with each moan against you, his hands search and find, only to search again and grip you so tightly that you fear he will leave swollen imprints.
You don’t mind. In fact, you want nothing more than to have Mingyu lose himself with you. Still, you can’t muster up any coherent words for him right now, because every sound you make is broken and dripping with the need for more of him.
Forever more, nothing less.
“God,” He breathes out when he looks down at you, hips still moving at a painful pace. “When you look at me like that–”
His eyes roll back for a moment mid sentence before he’s heaving in a breath and his hips slow to a long and languid drag.
“When you look at me like this, it’s so hard to not–” He holds his words back with a shameful chuckle, shutting himself up with a kiss to your lips as he furrows his brows and puts his focus back into his deep thrusts.
His words run circles in your head though, finishing his sentence for him in so many blissful ways that you feel your body tense at the pure excitement. Feeling his hips spread your legs with each thrust, making you feel sore all over, all of it, excitement.
“Hard not to, what?” You manage to breathe out against his lips, and his hips stutter at the way your voice breaks with each press into you.
“Don’t.” He nearly pleads, pulling his hands from you and instead using them to rest at both sides of your head, balancing all of his weight there as he drops his forehead to yours. “Don’t encourage me right now.”
You blink your eyes at him when he lifts his head again, feeling the way he slows his hips to a stop only to hold himself in place, throbbing inside of you. His eyes remain on yours, as if he wants you to challenge every word he says to you right now.
“Hard not to–” You breathe out, feeling him snap his hips as if to warn you. “What? Mingyu.”
He stares into your eyes, sucking his bottom lip in as he tries to remain composed. You only clench tighter around him though, causing a sort of sobbed groan to leave his throat this time.
“Tell me.” You whisper this time, clenching around him again and shifting your own hips to fuck yourself on him.
His eyes squeeze shut as he drops his forehead against yours once more, chuckling out another moan at how impossible you are to him.
“It’s hard to think I don’t want this.” He admits in a shaky breath, feeling the way you slide his cock in and out of you with pleasurable ease. “You.” He continues. “Hard to believe I’d ever be satisfied with you doing this with anyone other than–”
You pause, clenching unintentionally only to feel him take over again, dangerously close to his own orgasm.
“Me.” He finally says, cutting you off from responding by lifting from you entirely, angling his hips, and fucking dragging his hips back and forth just to send pointed japs against your g-spot.
After being so…protective? Or possessive, maybe? He can’t help but feel embarrassed by his intense need to have you. Not just now, no. Not just because he’s horny out of his mind for you, but because he’s already felt the frustration of not having you while you stood in front of him.
With your hand wrapped with his son’s.
Never again.
He wants this more than you know, more than he should ever admit to you.
“Mingyu–” You try to get out, but he throws a hand forward, more forceful than he’s ever been when he slips two fingers into your mouth just to keep you from enticing more truth from him.
The way you suck in those fingers with a moan is enough to drive him over the edge, but he tries to hold off.
He really tries.
But he can’t, as he falls forward with his fingers loosely hanging from your still licking mouth, and there, he empties himself entirely into you.
“Fuck–” He groans in frustration, his body jolting with each pulse. “You’re so–”
You can feel each pulse and push of his thick ropes of cum, shooting inside of you only to squelch out with each little push his hips offer. And his face, nuzzled so close against your neck now that you can feel the way his breath stutters with each wave of the orgasm.
All the way until he manages to lift with dizzy eyes, pulling his hips back to leave you empty as his cum drips out and onto the couch.
There, he stares down at what he’s done to you before panic washes over him.
It’s too late to go back now.
“You’re so–”
Silence, as every thought leaves his mind when he looks at you. How could he have ever formed words in the first place when you look up at him like this?
Like he’s the whole world.
~
The next morning, you sleep deeply next to Mingyu in the bed you missed so much. With the scent of him surrounding you and the weight of his arm thrown over you. His big and heavy limbs holding you close even in his deep sleep is enough to keep you locked into your own restful sleep.
You feel so safe, so warm, so comfortable. Like this is where you belong.
Nothing inside of you pulls with anxiety at this. In fact, you’re entirely too happy over the fact that you found yourself here the night before. Who cares about the circumstances anyway?
And as you lay there, half-asleep to roll over and nuzzle your nose against his neck, you breathe in deeply, lulling yourself back to sleep in his warmth.
That is, until you hear a ‘click’ of his doorknob turning and instantly you feel your full heart shrivel to almost dust.
“You’re fucking joking.”
Oh my god. The fear of opening your eyes is intense but you know that voice like the back of your hand. Your eyes open against your own will and your body turns over to see Chan, standing right there at the door with a murderous glare directed at you.
You wish it took you longer to process his figure, because honestly, you were feeling so warm in Mingyu’s grip, but now Mingyu, himself, is aggressively pulling himself away from you and rolling out of the bed.
He’s standing to his feet instantly as if he wasn’t just attached to you at the fucking cock. On the plus side, at least, he put on sweatpants before the two of you fell asleep together. Unfortunately, he also put one of his shirts on you to sleep in too.
What Chan is seeing in front of him is nothing that either of you can explain away.
“You’re fucking my dad.” Chan deadpans with a bite in his voice, standing there as he heaves in a breath that seems to get more and more angry as the seconds pass.
“We broke up.” You manage to mutter out, unaware of how to handle a situation like this but knowing deep down that if you continue to see Mingyu, he still would have found out eventually. “You cheated on me, remember?”
Chan rolls his eyes at you.
“Yeah, yeah.” He waves you off just to adjust his eyes over to Mingyu, his father.
Mingyu, towering on the other side of his bed, looks apologetic. He’s unable to explain himself because what Chan is seeing right now is really the only explanation he needs.
“You’re fucking my girlfriend?”
“We broke up!” You cut in again as you repeat yourself with a louder voice, standing from the bed and attempting to walk up to him. Mostly to try and avert his eyes from his father.
The way his eyes look straight past you and at Mingyu is terrifying enough to have you stumble back once you get too close though. It’s like Chan is seeing red, and arguably he has every right considering if anyone should be scolded, it’s definitely you.
“Chan,” Mingyu tries to soothe the conversation as he finally processes what is happening, his voice coming out calm and collected. Not wanting this to escalate, in fact, dead set on making damn sure that it doesn’t escalate.
Another harsh shake of his head, another roll of his eyes, and then he’s fixing his gaze back on you.
“You looked pretty comfortable, how long?”
You look to the floor, then turn to look at Mingyu. Both of you look entirely guilty, surely, but there’s something in you that feels proud. Maybe even relieved that it’s out in the open. After all, like you’ve already said twice, you broke up with him. And for good reason, mind you.
“Why does that matter?” You answer with a bite to your tone now, essentially answering his question.
“You cheated on me?” His voice raises, “With my dad, and still have the audacity to be upset with me over some girl at a party?!”
“No.” Mingyu speaks up. “We stopped. Last night was the first time since–”
“Am I supposed to appreciate that?!” Chan laughs out of dumbfounded rage, stumbling back and out of the doorway with a shake to his head. As if his eyes have to be deceiving him. “What do you mean ‘we stopped.’ ?!”
Chan feels overwhelmed. Like, he knew he fucked up with the way he acted, and really, he does care about you but what in the fuck? This is what he gets for trying to fix it? For coming to his dad first thing in the goddamn morning for advice? This is really what he gets? To see you, all cuddled in and smiling with that stupid fucking pretty face, in his own father’s t-shirt?
Fuck that.
He immediately turns on his heel and stomps towards the front door.
“Chan, hold on!” You call out, gripping his jacket to keep him from leaving. “I was the one who came onto him! Mingyu didn’t even–”
“Mingyu.” He repeats the way you say his father’s name when he turns to face you, disgusted by how naturally it came from your lips. “What else do you call him?”
You stand there in awe, looking even more guilty. You remember how Mingyu told you just to call him by his name, and so that’s all you ever called him. Never any pet names like what Chan is implying.
“Did you whine and cry for it like you always do for me?” He seethes out, inching his face closer and closer to yours. “Was it worth every second?”
“That’s enough,” Mingyu starts, walking up between the two of you and pulling your hand off of his son’s jacket. “Chan, that’s enough.”
Chan watches how gentle Mingyu is with your hand, eyeing how you let go the instant his fingertips touch your skin. His mind is fucking spinning in betrayal right now.
“We need to calm down before we talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Chan barks back, nearly spitting in his father’s face at the way he acts like he’s not the one guilty. “You’ve been fucking my girlfiend.”
And oh, poor fucking Jihoon, standing off to the side with his mouth permanently open in shock. Honestly, Chan was anxious before coming here, questioning Jihoon over and over again on how to explain himself and fix what he fucked up. The last thing he expected was to see none other than Chan’s girlfriend rushing out of Mingyu’s room without pants on, fucking glowing with that after-sex dew.
Oh god. This sucks.
“Chan!” Mingyu raises his voice this time, grabbing his son by both shoulders and forcing him to look at him.
And when Mingyu goes to try and explain himself, there’s nothing he can say. He simply looks at his son as his stoic face turns to that of realization.
All Chan can do is laugh at the audacity before shrugging Mingyu’s hands off of him and glaring at you once more.
“To think I wanted to fix things.” He breathes out, grimacing at you before shoving past you and going straight for the door.
Chan knew he fucked up with you, but it’s not like he slept with the girl. Sure, he was in the wrong to flirt, and to let her be all over him like that, but he’s not the one who went off and fucked someone last night. The fact that you could have broken up with him and fucked literally anyone else is flooring to him. He would have forgiven you if you had it in your heart to forgive him first.
But this? You not only went for his dad, but it hurts more knowing that his own father reciprocated?! More than once, apparently?
You’re both guilty.
You’re both disgusting.
And with that, Chan slams the front door behind him and Jihoon is left staring at the shaking walls before turning to look between you and Mingyu.
Only then do you notice Jihoon there, widened eyes and a big gulp of air.
“Fuck.” You groan, feeling dizzy and nearly falling to the floor right then and there.
Jihoon is quick to see himself out of this awkward situation, and it’s not long before you hear the car peel out of the driveway and down the street.
Fortunately, Mingyu is quick to come up behind you, hugging you as if everything that just happened wouldn’t stop him from touching you again.
Or maybe you’re just too hopeful, because within an instant, his once warm hands feel cold and shaky against you. This hold on you feels…different.
Like it’s out of obligation, not out of want, or need.
Instantly, you’re expecting him to end this right now. To end all of this with you, and it hurts more to think about how he should do that. You wouldn’t blame him, hell, no one would fucking blame him if that’s what this hug you’re getting from him is telling you.
It hurts. Of course it hurts. The inevitable of what any rational person would do in this situation bubbling up as a mass of anxiety in your throat. You can only remain quiet, feeling the soreness take hold on your heart.
Despite Chan being rightfully upset, despite what you’ve done, despite what Mingyu has done, you’re upset over it all simply because you can’t realistically be with Mingyu at the end of the day. No, not without ruining his life.
Not without both of you losing Chan, and to even expect him to do that in the first place should have been your first red flag regarding yourself.
You played them both, unintentionally, but with the best intentions at the end of the day.
And when you feel him hold you closer, that soreness inside of you settles just a bit. All he has to do is drop his chin to your shoulder and talk against your neck with a shaking breath.
“He’s not going to forgive either of us if we continue.” He whispers in a voice that seems both broken and firm at the same time. And he nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling deep before releasing a drawn out sigh with a tighter hold on you. “I understand if you want to be with my son, but I won’t be able to pretend I’m happy for either of you from this point forward.”
You pause, feeling the anxiety well up and jumble in your head.
“Is this an ultimatum?” You shake yourself from his grasp, feeling overwhelmed, guilty, happy that he’s suggesting that maybe, just maybe, he’d fight to keep you for himself.
But no. Instead, Mingyu stands tall, no longer shrinking himself to your size and glancing at you with a slow and stubborn shake of his head. Now, he’s unable to keep his eye trained on you, the weight and shame of what the two of you are doing is pushing him down, down, down.
“It’s wrong.” He explains as if you don’t know. The reality is that you do know, you just prefer not to listen. You prefer not to learn from this. “I can’t just pick you over my own son.”
You try to step forward to try and keep him from speaking. You’d do anything to keep him from speaking right now, but he isn’t budging. He doesn’t break like he usually does when you’re this close, in fact, he takes a step back and away from you.
You feel your heart hit the floor at that moment.
“So, it’s not an ultimatum.” Your voice cracks. “I just lost both of you.”
Mingyu can only nod, trying to ignore that crack in your voice and the tenseness in your shoulders.
“Which, somehow, doesn’t shock me.” You lend a pained laugh at the situation alongside a sniffle.
“Realistically.” Mingyu finally responds, his own voice wavering just for a moment. “I shouldn’t have given in, and I shouldn’t have led you on either. We both knew it couldn’t work.”
Why do you feel blamed for this?
“And at this point, I can’t give approval of you pursuing my son either. There’s too much between us that has happened, I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing you again.”
“But what about everything from last ni-” You start, reaching forward and trying to grasp him, unaware that you’re about to start pleading.
“Don’t.” Mingyu’s voice wavers again when he says it, pulling away from you for what he hates for the last time. “Let’s just leave it.”
And with that, you’re left with no choice.
You leave, realizing that Chan probably knew from the moment he pulled in considering your car sits in the driveway proudly.
There’s nothing left here for you.
~
Days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months with no contact from Chan nor Mingyu. Which, that much is expected but you were still hopeful for a few weeks there.
Not even that you want Chan based on everything that’s happened, more so that you feel like he deserves the deepest apology you could possibly offer to another person. It appears he doesn’t want nor does he need it. Every text is met with the reminder that you’re blocked.
In time, you try to move on too. Each day is becoming easier and easier to forget how you felt, which is insane considering how deep you thought it was originally. There’s still love there, somewhere, but you’re well aware now that there’s nowhere to put it, and there is no one who wants it either.
So, you just…exist with it until it dwindles deep enough inside of you that laughing and meeting new people becomes easy.
Chan, on the other hand, is moving away. Thanks to Jihoon and his pre-planned transfer for the next semester, Chan was quick to jump on the plan with him and try his damndest to get a transfer in too.
It worked out, and he left the city with his best friend in tow without so much as telling you, better yet his father.
In fact, he doesn’t want a damned thing to do with either of you, and feels no pain or interest in thinking about what happened any longer than he already did. Months passed differently for him. They passed happily.
And, well, that leaves Mingyu with his internal fight for his son’s forgiveness after all this time passed.
Not a day has gone by where Mingyu wasn’t fighting with himself on whether to get on his knees and fucking beg Chan to talk to him, or to give in, again and again, just to see you. Just to feel you. Just to hear you.
He’s going fucking insane, actually. Thankfully though, after months worth of attempts to gain forgiveness, Chan made himself very clear that he never wanted to speak to Mingyu again. Well, that leaves little to no room for Mingyu to keep trying. At least not for now.
He is forever thankful to Jihoon though, despite knowing what he’s done to Chan, Jihoon still sends him update texts.
“Chan has a new girlfriend,” Mingyu found out just last month about that.
“His grades are really good, but I wouldn't suggest asking him home for the holidays. He plans to spend them with me and my family,” Mingyu heard just a week ago.
And, well, despite the fact that his own son has rightfully disowned him, he still feels proud that Chan appears to be happy and doing well. Even with a father as useless as he is these days, he truly is proud of him.
So that leaves us here. Cool winter air outside, heated arguments and painful words left long forgotten to burn little patterns into every heart that was involved in the situation.
If there’s anything Mingyu can fuck up now, he can’t imagine the outcome being worse than it already is. He tried everything to fix the situation, and it appears that this is just how things are going to be from now on.
Without his son.
But not without you.
~
After a long and exhausting day out with your friends, you feel good. Happy, even. Genuinely happy for the first time without the weight of past situations weighing you down. You were happy to make it home and even happier to enjoy a nice and warm shower alone.
Because finally you feel okay being entirely alone. You feel comfortable.
That is, until you check your phone and notice that you received a text message hours prior to now. Your stomach instantly drops reading the name, because you really thought you’d never live to see the day where he reaches out to you.
Mingyu: can we talk?
Mingyu: just talking. nothing else.
The fact that he still had your number saved. The fact that you remember how the gravel of his driveway felt under your tires when you went to see him. The fact that you can remember the coolness his kitchen counter offered to you the last time you spent the night, and the warm bed you woke up in before it went cold.
Just like that, you’re back to square one. Reverting back to all that is Mingyu, and all of that silent, reluctant love he gave you despite the problems that would arise.
And upon Mingyu finally seeing you again, he really, really can’t help it.
Immediately, he’s giving in to a woman who ruined his relationship with his son without her so much as trying, giving in to the touch and feel of another person, and giving in to his own weakness.
He missed you.
He always fucking misses you.
And at the end of the day, that’s really all he can say about the entire situation. He misses you, and despite the fact that Chan will never forgive him for this, the truth of the matter is that sometimes two people grow feelings for each other regardless of the surrounding circumstances. Chan wasn’t going to forgive him to begin with anyway.
Regardless of losses and gains. Regardless of the whispering in town. Regardless of the pain and heartache that could inevitably come from this, Mingyu cannot keep his heart to himself.
Especially when you so willingly accept it. Here, tangled in the sheets of his bed, hands intertwined his with, hushed breaths and warm tears.
He doesn’t think he could ever regret what he’s done with you. In fact, it’s possible that he’d be willing to lose much, much more than to give you up again.
There’s only one thing that drives a person to go to such drastic lengths. It’s not selfishness, it’s not lust, and it’s certainly not spite. A nagging feeling so ingrained within the heart, digging and prodding until the sorrow overflows that empty piece and fills a person with so much dread and dilemma that all they can do is either rip their hair out or fucking bite the bullet.
Some would say it’s love.
Mingyu would say it’s you.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
"It takes HOW LONG?" Black Hair is an Art (pt.2)
(This is part two of the hair lessons, focusing on writing/narratives. If you want to know how the styles LOOK, refer to part 1 and its addendum)
Now that you know what our hair actually looks like, we’re going to discuss incorporating that into your writing (original fic, fanfic, webcomics, anything with a narrative). You don’t HAVE to give us a dissertation on "how you studied 'The Black People’s Hair'" in your story. That’s not what I’m asking you to do. I’m just asking you to CONSIDER the effort and existence of it. The same way you put effort into discussing nonblack hair textures? Should be the sort of tenderness and care you put into discussing ours. It does not stand to reason that I have read thousands of stories describing "the silky, black/blonde tresses/waves that fell down their pale back as their lover ran their fingers through them", but Black readers have nothing of the sort to compare to without seeking our own authors out. Our hair deserves some loving and adoration too!
This is a very long post describing hairstyles and how they can correspond to your character's design and decisions, so I'll put a read more here. The sections are organized into 'Twist Out', 'Afros', 'Locs', 'Braids', 'Black Men', and 'Straight Hair' if you Ctrl F. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE take your time to read all of this at some point though, as I put a lot of resources and explanation into this. I'm trusting you!
The History
As I discussed in the last lesson, our hair is incredibly important to us, and part of that includes the vulnerability and trust that comes along with access to it. This is due to a long history of oppression. There’s a racist history of making Black women hide our hair, as if it would ‘tempt white men’ away, regardless of it were due to actual attraction or the (more likely) rape of Black women. There’s a racist history of touching our hair, as though we are animals or zoo exhibits. We aren’t just going to let anyone touch our heads, so DON'T write that, unless you are doing so to show that it is a microaggression towards your character. Even now, cultural appropriation is rampant. If I were to wear cornrows with hoops, it'd be seen as 'ghetto' or 'gang-like'. Meanwhile, it is a fashion statement for white women. When Miles G Morales showed up in Across the Spiderverse, animators specifically chose cornrows for him, but many people mistakenly took it to me that he was 'rougher and tougher' than the original Miles. This was a racist perception! Hearing the Fade get hyped up in the news as the 'Travis Kelce', when Black men and especially NFL players have been wearing it for DECADES to crickets... it hurts lmao. Point is, you can describe and respect Black hair without being racist about it. Okay? Okay.
Vulnerability
YOUR CHARACTERS NEED TO BE CLOSE BEFORE ALLOWING THEM TO TOUCH THEIR HAIR!!!
It needs to be someone they TRUST wholeheartedly. Again, do NOT let a stranger touch their hair unless it’s meant to be an uncomfortable situation!
Consider CONSENT! Consent is ALWAYS beautiful! Have your other characters (Black or not) ASK to touch your Black characters’ hair! And not in the ‘Oh can I touch it?’ way. But if they’re really close friends or dating, have them ask to help do their braids, or wash their hair, or even just to stroke their hair and face! Or if your Black character is injured with a head wound, and they have to tend to them, have them ask! The asking shows a level of care and respect for your Black character and their body! At any point the consent may be revoked, and that needs to be respected! If they let them tend their head wound, but then smack their hand away after, that’s not ‘rude’- they’re allowed to do that, especially to signify that they aren’t at that level of trust yet. That's still angsty!
One great example of love from a Black character is doing their partner’s hair, or allowing their partner to do their hair. The ‘Hair-washing’ fic is a common thing in fanfiction; we all understand how that shows the depth of the trust in the relationship between the characters. How would you write about that trust with a Black character, if you don’t know what goes into taking care of their hair? If you don’t even know what their hair looks or feels like? The lack of awareness will show, and what should be a beautiful, deep moment will fall flat for Black readers. I wrote one once for my character with locs, and it honestly made me tear up because I realized that I’d never seen one, at least not in the majority white spaces that the fandoms I was in were.
Think about it- how often have you read a hair-washing fic with a Black character? Was it accurate? Would you know if it was accurate? Have you spoken to or heard anyone Black in your fandom space talk about it? Do you know anyone Black in your fandom space to ask? It’s things like this that we have to consider!
If you have a character that is nonblack in a relationship with your Black character, that honestly reveals even more trust because there’s a long history (again) behind that NOT happening! In life, we can’t go to the same places. I can’t go to a white hair salon or barbershop. They won’t know what to do! People are allowed to go through hair school without learning how to work with different, thicker textures. It’s not right nor fair, but it’s a part of the casual, systemic racism in our lives.
My feelings on what Lestat symbolizes aside, the scene where he plays with Louis’ curls in AMC's IWTV was an intelligent way to show that closeness, and how a nonblack character would affectionately play with a Black character’s hair! How he works with the curl in his fingers, rather than trying to pet Louis or run his fingers through- it was an intelligent move on Sam and Jacob’s part as actors to understand that THAT’S how that would go down!
If you have a character that wants to show a violation of your Black characters’ space, touching/harming our hair is cruelty on a very personal level that will generate an extreme reaction.
Think About Your Character!
When thinking about your Black character’s hairstyle, you need to think about your character themselves! What do they do every day? What are their hobbies? Are they Type A, Type B personality? Do they have a lot of time? Are they always in a rush? Are they noncommittal? Are they self-conscious? Artsy? Serious? Are they in a time period where the means to care for their hair are limited?
People make jokes and comments about how Black women don’t like getting our hair wet and dismiss our concerns. But it’s not out of ‘silliness’ or vanity. What you consider ‘just hair’ may have taken days of planning in advance and HOURS of our time! We put a lot of thought and effort into our hair, and it will easily shatter the illusion for your Black readers if you describe our hair poorly or create an unlikely scenario with it. It’s not a joke!
Some Terms:
Protective styles- a style that allows our hair to ‘rest’ with minimal manipulation
‘Tender-headed’- some people’s scalps are more sensitive to the tightness of styles, so it’ll hurt a little bit more and require some more gentleness (Regardless it’s still going to hurt for a bit after a fresh style)
Bonnets- a silk/satin cap of varying lengths that we wear at night to protect our hair and keep the moisture in
Loc Sock- same idea, but for locs
Durag- keeps short haircuts protected; can even help create the wave pattern that many Black men enjoy
Scarf- same idea as the bonnets, except scarfs can be used specifically for straight hairstyles to wrap them up to keep it straight and neat
(It'll seem real legit if you include your Black characters wearing their headcoverings at night! I remember laughing while reading Twilight because I knew that if Edward snuck into my room at night, he'd see me in my scarf or bonnet lmao.)
General Hair Care:
While I don’t completely agree with some of the advertising in this first one (it’s the internet. Can’t go nowhere without someone trying to hawk something) it’s cool in general to explain how our hair looks the way it does.
If you have Black children OCs, it’s important to consider that their parents have to do their hair, and how that will be its own experience! (It can be very stressful for Black children to get their hair done, as it takes a long time and can be physically uncomfortable. There are plenty of stories of burnt ears and tugged tangles and not very nice old women. Children are children! Keep in mind how they may behave while getting the style of your choice.
Moisturizing to keep healthy
Twist Outs
Cute twist out styles
Twist outs are a style that takes overnight to hold, or maybe even a few days! The cool thing is that the twists themselves can be the style! So the tighter you want their curls to be, the longer they’ll wear the twists in. If you want to describe your character with tighter curls, there needs to be a section of time where their hair remains in the twists! If your character has an event, and they want twists… this needs to be done in advance. Your character will NOT untwist them the day of, unless they want weak, limp curls (or you want the scene to compose of them having weak curls).
How long they'll last depends on the activity of your character! If all they do is work a desk job, or they don’t sweat very much, the twists can last some time! But if they sweat, or wear hats or caps, it’s not going to last long. Maybe a week.
Pros: Very versatile! If you have a character that loves trying new looks and enjoy being spontaneous, twist outs are for them! Easy! If your Black character is younger, or haven’t done their hair before, this is a great way for them to start working with their hair! Doesn’t take long (to do)! If your character is in a rush, and they do their twists, they can go just about anywhere. If they’re not self-conscious, this will be just fine.
Cons: It cannot get wet again, or the style will puff up back into your natural texture. It does not last long enough to say “oh my character went on a two year long fantasy adventure with this style.” If you want your character to have a twist out the whole time, they’re going to have to take time to do it. It would be cool if you incorporate a scene where they’re working on their hair, maybe in the background while everyone’s discussing plans or something. Just a reminder that their hair isn’t just staying magically twisted (unless they have the magic to do that).
Afros
Afro Style Guide, Style Guide for Men (works for any gender though)
Wash & Gos are just that- wash it (or really, condition it, you don’t have to shampoo it every time) dry with a t-shirt (to prevent breakage), put some oil and a light crème on it, fluff it up and you’re good to go! Maybe an hour at max and can be done while getting dressed in the morning!
Pros: Easy! If they’re doing a full, combed out afro, it’s not as simple, it will take more time. And at night it has to be plaited so that it maintains its length, otherwise it will tangle. But other than that, that’s still not all that hard. They can show off their curls! Black characters can and should have pride in their hair. It’s beautiful. This is the opportunity that you as an author can describe the pure texture of their hair, how it shines in the light, how the coils look, how soft it is! Romanticize Black hair the same way you do anyone else’s!
Cons: None really! Afros are wonderful! Just make sure that your character has a way to keep their hair from getting tangled. Just because it’s easy doesn’t mean there’s no maintenance! A pick, a bonnet, oil and water go a long way!
Locs
Five stages of locs
A person who does locs is a loctician.
Can be palm-rolled or interlocked/crocheted
I cannot emphasize enough that you do not want just anyone doing their locs! They can really mess up someone’s hair if they don’t know what they’re doing. I say that to say, for your character, if they don’t trust the person doing their hair… they should. They should not be walking into anyone’s place to get their hair locked; they’d do research first.
The time it takes locs to ‘bud’ (that is, to actually form the loc) depends on the texture of their hair. But it can take up to 3 months to even a year for them to actually ‘loc up’. So if your character just got locs, they’re not going to look neat. They’re going to be frizzy.
As long as they’re washing their hair, keeping it moisturized, and not using wax products (DO NOT HAVE ANY BLACK CHARACTER USE WAX PRODUCTS IT IS BAD FOR BLACK HAIR) it’ll last forever! Locs are incredibly strong, especially the thicker they get! It is recommended that locs are retwisted every six weeks, but if your character has freeform locs, doesn’t have the money or time right now, or they just aren’t that pressed, they can grow indefinitely.
Something cute to write in your stories: sometimes locs do just… fall out. Not the whole thing! But the same way thin hair gets everywhere… sometimes the ends of thin locs just… fall off! You’ll find little buds on the ground. This happens especially in the budding stage.
Pros: Very low daily maintenance! At most they’ll need a bonnet or loc sock, and oil/water mix to spritz and massage in. Strong style that can hold any look- buns, curls, etc. They can be dyed, though it will take a long time to do so. I say that to say, if you want your character to have bright green locs, go for it!!
Cons: Low daily, but HIGH wash day maintenance! So if your character has a fancy date or something to go on, they should not be getting their hair retwisted the same day, or at least not so close to. It’s going to be shiny, oily, and tight, which can cause discomfort. Give them the day to let the hair settle!
Locs are PERMANENT!! This isn’t a bad thing, as much as it is a ‘KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING BEFORE YOU DO IT’ thing. Technically they can be combed out, but that would take a very long time and very precise effort, and most people aren’t going through all that. They’re just going to cut them off and start fresh. If you have a character that would balk at such a choice, locs aren’t for them. If you have a character that’s picky and choosy, that likes versatility, that can’t make up their mind, do NOT give them locs unless they’re making the conscious choice to commit. (Again, this is subjective! Maybe they have locs because their mother died and it reminds them of her! Okay! That works!) If you have a character that’s vain, or at least doesn’t like looking awkward… unless they’re going to style up the awkward stage, they’re not going to want locs. (Awkward stage: the first two stages get considered awkward because the locs look messy. This is because they’re turning from curls to locs!)
Braids
Styles
How long braids can take depend on the style. Box braids can take 10-12 hours to do! Microbraids? You HAVE to have multiple people or you'll be there for damn near a day (and that's assuming you have a masterful braider!)
How long they last depend on your character! If they're like me as a kid, I didn't care how I looked, so my mom got me cheap braids and let me run free for two summer months. So if your Black character is a carefree child! Go for it. But if they're a teen or adult (or are very concerned about how they look) a month to six weeks is about how long braids can stay in before your new growth shows. A character that is usually trimmed and proper having loads of new growth over their braids may symbolize that they don’t have it all together anymore.
Pros: Protective style! Great way to let your character have minimal daily maintenance; oil and water and something to cover it. SOME braided styles allow for high activity and even rain without changing. It depends on the hair that’s been braided in, as well as the style. Incredibly versatile! They can have multi-colored braids, long braids, short braids, beads, trinkets… if your character is creative and bubbly and likes to experiment, the sky is the limit! That can symbolize their artistic expression, just by describing what they look like! So long as they have the time, they can have any look and style they want. No need to commit too long.
If your character is capable of doing their own braids (and locs, btw), they’re amazing. Like… that’s mad respect for them. If you describe your character being able to do their own braids, they’ve got amazing arm strength, patience, and skill. That skilled dexterity can be revealed as a trait of theirs through that alone.
Cons: They take a LONG TIME. Your character is not going anywhere. If they’re getting braids… they’re not going anywhere. If you write your character doing anything fancy the day of, depending on the type of braids, Black readers are not going to believe you. Even if it did get finished, it would be very tight. I currently have a poll going on, and so far, a good majority of the 10+ answers are braids! It cost MONEY. It is NOT CHEAP to get braids done! If your character is poor as a church mouse, they will be doing those braids with their friend in front of youtube. Because it can be in the hundreds of dollars. (Don’t get me started on hair culture right now; BACK IN MY DAY IT COST-)
Hairstyles on Black Men
I want to specifically give space and applause to these hairstyles on Black men, because we REALLY don’t give Black men enough credit for all the creativity they show with their hair! And again, with The Killmonger being the choice style in all these damn vidya games despite almost no Black man I know choosing it as a look… PLEASE LOOK! WE HAVE OPTIONS! Try describing how gorgeous these looks can be on your Black men characters! It would be very nice.
Straight Hair
Well, I was going to explain, but ol ‘Guest Writer’ here pretty much lays it all out! So just go ahead and read this article lol.
Just to re-emphasize, straight hair is NOT something that just grows out of our head that way! It takes effort! So if you have a character that doesn’t feel like maintaining straight hair, they shouldn’t have it! If your character has natural hair and lives in a rainy or humid city, they’re going to be fighting that weather to keep it straight- make sure that’s consistent with their personality!
My best friend used to wash and flatiron her hair every day. Like, laser focused on looking that good, Type A shit (she’s a top money banker now, so I guess it worked out). If you have a character like that, it’s fine! If they’re lazy any other time of the day, they’re not suddenly going to be waking up at 5am to flat iron their hair. It’s not consistent.
Conclusion
That’s pretty much what I have! I’m not the guru on all things Black hair, and I obviously cannot encompass every potential scenario you may have for your characters. Really, my intention here is to get you to think about how our hair reflects our character and personalities, and how when you write and/or draw a Black character, you have that ability! And when you’re able to incorporate that naturally, it makes your Black readers feel seen, like you actually cared about that character enough to give them just as much description as your nonblack characters. You don’t have to be a master at it! Just… occasionally the little things that we can go ‘oh, yeah!’ at would be nice. An equivalent effort would be nice.
Remember, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Mama’s Boy
Summary : During a bonding activity at the hotel, parents get brought up. Everyone seemed okay with talking a little about their parentage, but Alastor was off put by the topic. He didn’t think anyone would notice the way his smile strained, or that anyone would care when he slipped away, but you did. You cared. And you wanted to help him, even if he didn’t want to accept it.
Tags : GenderNeutral!reader, reader is shorter than Al, soft!Alastor, sorta, fluff, hurt/comfort, Alastor misses his mom, Alastor needs a hug, Alastor is losing it
Notes : Lots of people seemed to enjoy my interpretation of soft Alastor in my last oneshot, so here’s another one! I heart Alastor sm. Enjoy!
Word Count : 2.3k
——————
“Well you know! When your dad is the king of Hell, it complicates things sometimes, and with as long as my mom has been gone—” Charlie’s voice grows distant as you lose focus. It’s not that you don’t care, you’ve all just been talking about your parents for a good hour and a half. It started with a bonding exercise Charlie had decided would be fun. It started with talking about who people who meant a lot to you, and when Husk mentioned his father, everyone began to add on.
You looked around at everyone’s faces, and everyone seemed content with the conversation. Charlie was droning on about her familial issues, Angel had talked about his mother beforehand, and even Pentious mentioned some fond memories of his parents. But Alastor had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole experience.
Your gaze finally falls on The Radio Demon himself, an uncomfortable and awkward posture taking its hold on him. He was standing straighter than usual, his grin that was as consistent as he was creepy was now fairly strained, as his eyes darted, trying to look at anything but the company he surrounded himself with. Your brows furrowed as you stared, though you tried to make it not so obvious. His shoulders sunk for a moment as you watched him suck in a breath, readjusting to his normal position and finally breaking his silence.
“You’ll all have to excuse me for a moment, I have some business to attend to!” His preppy voice cut through Charlie’s dialogue as the focus in the room catches on him. His eyes finally find someone to land on. You! Oh, he’s looking at you. You blink as his gaze narrows, turning on his heels as the rest of the room murmurs goodbyes. Your eyes followed his path, watching him disappear further into the hotel.
“I didn’t think we had anything else on the agenda today,” Vaggie glances to her girlfriend, looking for some sort of explanation for the overlord’s odd behavior. You cast a glance Charlie’s way as well, curious, but you were met with a shrug and an absentminded smile.
“Must be personal errands or something! We can keep going with the activity,” she motions to you with her hand, encouraging you to speak about your own experiences. Your lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes drifted back to the spot where Alastor had once stood. You had an itching sensation in your brain that you had a hunch wouldn’t fade unless you figured out what was going on.
You and Alastor were close, to some extent. He spoke to you more openly than any of the others at the hotel. And you were the same with him. But one thing he would never talk about was his life before Hell. It was a mystery. Like a locked vault that’s code was long gone. But you longed to grow closer to him. You’d be lying if you said your feelings toward the demon hadn’t begun to bubble into something more, but now wasn’t the time to process that. You had more interesting things to think about.
After a long beat of silence, you stood up.
“Sorry Charlie, but I gotta use the bathroom, I’ll be back in a bit!” You assure with a toothy grin and a thumbs up. The princess could only giggle, nodding at you and ushering to go take care of your ‘business.’
You hurried off in the direction Alastor had gone, going through a list of places he’d likely be in your head. Kitchen? No, he’d gone the opposite direction. Radio tower? He only went up there to broadcast. Library? Hotel doesn’t have one of those. You frowned. He’d like one though, you were sure of it.
His room.
It was the only other logical place to check in the hotel. You picked up your pace, his room was on one of the higher floors of the hotel. Finally reaching the elevator, you hesitate. Alastor wasn’t a vulnerable person. If something was wrong, would he tell you? You pressed the button for the elevator, despite doubt eating at the inside of your stomach. Stepping onto the dinky machine, you pressed the button for the floor you needed, taking a breath in and out. You needed to know what was going on with him.
The elevator hummed to life as it hoisted you upwards, an awkward silence falling over you, despite there being no one else in the machine. It dinged as you hit your desired floor, and you sighed, happy to be off of the unreliable thing. You continued your journey to The Radio Demon’s room, you face beginning to sour as you realized how unrealistic you were being. Al would never admit to you what was wrong. You knew that. Why were you trying?
As you reached his door, you stared up at it. A deer skull was etched into the red wood, a golden knob flourishing in the flickering lights of the hotel. You couldn’t give up on him. You’d gone through a lot to try and get close with Alastor. You couldn’t throw that effort away because of doubt. How idiotic would that be?
Without much thought, you placed your hand on that beautiful golden knob, slowly turning it, trying to be as quiet as possible. The door slowly swung open, not so much as a creak coming from its hinges. You made a mental note to ask him how he got his door to be so quiet when all this was over, gently closing the door behind you. Sat on his bed, hunched over and face in his hands was The Radio Demon himself. Your eyes scanned the room as you tried your absolute best to not loudly question how he had a SWAMP in his room. Now wasn’t the time.
You walked into his room, approaching the deer-like demon in silence. You could hear muffled sniffles from under his hands, and he seemed far too lost in his own thoughts to pay your presence any mind. You, with slight hesitation, placed your hand on his shoulder. His body stiffened as his fingers parted slightly, his red eyes peering up at you through his lashes.
“Alastor, are you—”
A black tendril wrapping around your arm and pushing you back put a hold on your sentence. You stumbled backwards, barely catching yourself as you looked Alastor. He stood up, fast, tear stains brandishing his cheeks as his smile, that was somehow still there, strained into what was the closest thing to frowning he may be capable of. His neck bent wildly, his body growing larger in size as his eyes turned a shadowy black.
“GET OUT.” His voice was crackled with radio static, his teeth glued shut as his spoke through them like he was, well, a radio.
You’d never wanted to run away more than in that moment. This had gotten intense VERY quickly, and it was a bit frightening. But as your neck craned up and your eyes met his, and you’d never been met with such sadness.
“I can’t. Not until you talk to me, Alastor,” your words were firm, but your eyes were soft. Full of compassion. He shook his head, eyes squinting shut.
“You want me to talk to YOU? Why are you even trying to pretend to care?!” Alastor’s voice cracked as he slammed his fists onto the ground, the floor shuddering beneath him. You stepped closer, your eyes pleading silently that he’d hear you. Not just listen to your words, but comprehend them.
“I’m not trying to pretend anything. But I could tell you were upset earlier, and it’s obvious that you are now! I just want to be here for you! I want to understand!” Your voice rose in volume as you stood your ground, not faltering even this slightest bit. An almost animalistic growl left The Radio Demon’s throat as he moved closer to you.
“You truly want me to believe you’d ‘understand?!’ My mother was the ONLY person I had when I was alive, she was the only one that was there for me! The only one I’d ever DARE let myself be vulnerable around because she would NEVER hurt me,” Alastor’s hands clutched his head, his fingers tangling in his hair as his eye twitched. You listened with a solace look upon your face, narrowing your eyes at him with pity creasing your brow. “And NOW look at me. A demon. A MONSTER. I’ve ended countless lives, she was a saint among the living, and I am a HELLSPAWN. What would,” he collapsed to his knees, arms falling limp to his sides as he returned to his natural form, his voice falling quiet. “What would she think of me now? Her precious pride and joy. A murderer. She would be disgusted by me. Does it even matter? I’ll never see her again. She died long before I did. And now I’m here. Alone.”
Silence fell over the room as Alastor’s chest heaved, tears streaking his face once again. You waiting a moment before approaching him, kneeling down in front of the taller man. You gently, somewhat hesitantly, took his cheek in your hand, tilting his head to make him look at you. Your eyes scanned his face, eyeing that never ending smile. Your lips tugged upward as your thumb caressed his cheek, making a moment of contact with the corner of his lips.
“I bet your mom misses that smile,” his ears pinned down to the sides of his head, Alastor’s trembling hand covered your own, his smile tugging tighter as he leaned into your touch. “You’re not alone, Alastor.”
He fell into you, and your eyes widened in surprise. His head buried in the crook of your neck, you could feel his tears coating your skin and shirt. His arms wrapped around your torso, his claws were surprisingly gentle. Almost like he was being cautious. You moved from your knees to your butt with a quiet thump, pulling his body closer to yours. One of your arms wrapped tightly around the lower half of his torso, the other around his shoulders, your hand combing through his soft hair.
Alastor’s face was warm against your skin, you could hear every sniffle, feel every shudder as soft sobs wracked his body. Sometimes, being in Hell made you forget, every person you met down here was once innocent. They were once alive, vulnerable, and just someone trying to find their place in the world. Big bad overlords like the on you were cradling in your arms were once human. They all were someone’s pride and joy, someone’s baby, someone’s entire reason to keep living. Despite what they’d become, they once were soft and pure, nothing is born evil. And times like this made you remember that.
After a good few minutes of The Radio Demon crying into your shoulder, he’d finally calmed, now just sitting in that same position, holding you close, a small sniffle every once in a while. You’d been lulling soft words into his ear, your best attempt to relax him. Slowly, Alastor picked his head up, straightening himself to sit sort-of-in-front-of-you, your legs were a little tangled due to the way you’d both been sitting for the past while. He looked into your eyes, his hands were gently fiddling with the fabric of your shirt as he averted his gaze.
“This was. A relieving experience,” he admits, his smile small but seemingly genuine. His face was tear stained, there were light bags under his eyes, but all and all, he seemed a lot lighter.
“Good. That’s,, that’s good. I’m glad,” you gave a lopsided grin, moving your hands to caress his arms. “Seemed like you might’ve needed that.”
“I suppose I did,” he returned the motion, his hands falling to your hips, though loosely.
This was the most physically affectionate you’d ever seen Alastor. He, generally speaking, didn’t like much contact. The most people would get from him is a simple handshake or pinch of the cheek, maybe an arm around the shoulder, but it was almost always in a condescending way. But this was very different. It was softer, more intimate. You felt almost privileged to see this side of him.
“I meant what I said,” you break the string of comfortable silence. Alastor tilted his head, expecting some elaboration. “About wanting to be here for you. Whenever you need it, I’m always there.”
“I know you did, my dear. I would like to. Hm,” a pause. “I’m sorry. For snapping at you. It’s hard to be open when we are quite literally in Hell. I should’ve known better than to think you’d ever try to use this against me. You’d never do that, would you?” His grip on your hips tightened slightly. A warning. But also, a plead.
“Of course not, I’d never even think of it,” you gave his arms a reassuring squeeze, and his grip on you loosened. You could only smile, pulling yourself closer to him and placing your forehead against his. Alastor rolled his eyes though when they fell back to you, his whole expression softened. This was a tender moment, and wasn’t one that you’d likely ever get again.
You admired him for a short moment, allowing silly thoughts of romance and companionship dance in your head. Alastor, The Radio Demon, with a lowlife sinner like you? It would be unprecedented. And yet, you couldn’t help but let the softness of this moment cloud your judgement. You leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth Alastor tensed. As you pulled away, you could see a very obvious blush across his face.
“Sorry,” you murmur with a smile, pulling away completely, withdrawing all contact. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”
Before he could reply, you gave a gentle pat on his head, and then walked out of his room. The overlord could only blink, watching you disappear. His heart fluttered with excited jitters as he stood, dusting himself off. He may just have to come to you with his issues more often.
#fanfic#writing#hazbin hotel#rockettothestars222#reqs open#requests#hazbin vaggie#hazbin charlie#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#comfort#hazbin fanfic#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin angel dust#hazbin sir pentious#hazbin husk
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
"what a surprise to see you here!"
you let out a long, weary sigh in the wake of the unduly jubilant exclamation, letting your bag hit the desk in front of you with a thump.
"i work here, gojo. just like you."
the aforementioned man steps into view around your shoulder, craning down into your face with that same easy grin he always wears—the one you find exhausting just to look at on days like today, because you know it means he plans on tormenting you for an extended period of time.
"and aren't we both so lucky to be here?" he hums, still smiling.
lucky?
you stand before him filthy and aching from the mission you'd just returned from, and with a night's worth of your students' assignments in hand you still need to grade by tomorrow morning. you're tired, and sore, and covered in curse guts and god only knows what else—and this smiling, obnoxious man hovering over you is calling you lucky.
you wish his blindfold was elasticated. if it was, you'd take hold of it, pull it back as far as you could, and let it snap it back over his eyes just to spite him.
"what do you want, gojo?" you don't even have the energy to sound annoyed anymore, the question leaving your lips in a lifeless monotone.
he pauses.
"you look terrible."
your head whips over to look at him again, and you immediately wince—a hand flying up to your neck. you think you must have strained it taking care of that last second grade curse. it hasn't been bothering you as much as the pain in your side, so you've mostly been ignoring it until now.
"gojo, if y—"
"gojo, gojo, gojo," he interrupts you before you can even manage to get the insult you'd been trying to say out. his tone is petulant, a little pout on his lips. "i've told you to call me satoru."
he enunciates each syllable of his name pointedly—like a reprimand.
"and why would I call you that?" you huff, tired of dealing with him. you grab your bag off the desktop, shove the stack of papers you'd come to your classroom to retrieve inside, and turn towards the door.
"because it's my name?" his tone lifts at the end like he's asking a question. "besides, you call sukuna by his name."
he's following along behind you. of course he's following behind you—you don't know why you expected to get away so easily.
"i call sukuna by his name because there's two itadoris now," you reply back, not that you owe him any kind of explanation. your steps are quick in spite of the stabbing pain in your side—literal, not figurative—but unfortunately it takes no effort at all for gojo to match your stride.
gojo groans a little. "how'd a guy that awful end up with such a cute little brother?" he whines, tipping his head back like he's lodging the complaint with a higher power. "my sweet yuuji and him have nothing in common beyond their family name."
you don't bother replying, stepping out from the main school building into the courtyard that leads towards the student dorms and teachers' residences. gojo is still close behind.
you find it ironic that gojo takes such issue with sukuna, a fellow sorcerer and jujutsu tech instructor, when there's no offence sukuna could be accused of that gojo himself is not equally guilty of committing. at least sukuna has the decency to not claim to be, well, decent.
there's something to be said for self-awareness.
"are you planning on following me the entire way home?" you ask him, irritation heavy in your voice.
"hey, i live there too, y'know," gojo counters.
barely, you can't help but think. gojo very rarely stays in his residence on campus. you're not sure where he spends all his time, whether it be a place off campus or even the gojo family compound, but you know it isn't here.
not that you particularly care.
"are geto and shoko busy tonight or something?" you ask again.
"suguru's away for a mission," gojo answers, seemingly not put off at all by the hostility in your tone. "shoko should be in her office, though."
you roll your eyes at his obvious evasion of your implication.
you freeze when you feel a hand touch your waist. the hand holding your bag goes limp at your side.
satoru is standing right behind you.
"your rib's broken."
it's quiet for a moment, but when you turn around, he's not smiling anymore and he's got his blindfold tugged down by one crooked finger. his eyes—the ones you so rarely see, the ones that make you feel equal parts awestruck and reviled—are on you.
"since shoko's in her office, you should go see her about it."
in one smooth motion, he covers his eyes again.
your teeth clench, your jaw tensing.
the next words you speak are barely audible through the barrier of your bite.
"what was that?" he asks, leaning forward in your space again.
you consider not repeating yourself, but all at once your resolve abandons you. you sigh, hanging your head and then you purse your lips in defeat.
"i c... i can't walk any further."
gojo laughs.
"i'm surprised you made it this far," he says, that bright smile of his back in place.
and so, a few minutes later, you find yourself with your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist as gojo carries you towards shoko's office in the infirmary.
"you're lucky i found you when i did, you know."
lucky. there he goes with that again.
you snort mirthlessly.
"and all you have to do to repay me is say 'thank you satoru!'" he exclaims, his voice rising an octave in what you can only assume is an offensive imitation of what you sound like to him.
"i'm not saying that," you mutter dourly, your grip on his neck tightening—though not enough to actually satisfy your desire to wring his neck.
"so stubborn," he tuts, but there's no real admonishment in his tone.
"i wouldn't call sukuna by his name if i didn't have to. but there's two itadoris, it just makes sense." you say after a while, the infirmary nearly in sight. you're grateful you're so close to relief, because the ache in your rib is so acute now that you're starting to feel lightheaded. you lean in closer to gojo's back as he carries you, letting him bear your weight a bit more. "there's only one gojo."
a breathy chuckle slips from his lips—so gentle it sounds almost involuntary. "only one gojo, huh?" he repeats your words, almost like he's mulling them over.
you hum affirmatively, letting your chin hook over his shoulder as he turns the final corner towards shoko's office. your eyes flutter closed. "yeah, lucky for me."
990 notes
·
View notes
Text
DPxDC Prompt: Damian's Friend
I feel like this has been done before so if it has please let me know!
-----
Damian is still learning to make friends. Sure, he has Superboy but according to his brothers and teachers he needed more friends. But why should he bother with new friends when one was already such a pain to keep up with? Social cues were hard to understand, jokes didn't make sense, and most civilians were far too squishy. He could end up hurting them accidentally and that would endanger his secret identity.
Though he quickly learned that meeting people as Robin made it considerably easier. That's how he ended up meeting Phantom, a 15-Year-Old boy who seemed rather lost. His only explanation for why he was in Gotham had been, "Listen, my mentor told me to come here and to stick with the birds and the bats. I don't know what that is or why I'm here but considering I don't seem to be able to go home yet I can only assume that I haven't found what I was looking for yet."
Phantom was strange, even for a meta. He didn't know what Gotham was, who Superman or Batman were, he had never heard of the Justice League, or even heard of 'metas' until Robin explained it to him. The kid seemed honest and he was staying out of the way of patrols and stuff which was more than most meta's did.
The only time he interfered with any fight was when Robin was cornered in a fight. In theory Robin would have been able to handle it but in the moment he had - admittedly - been a little in over his head. Phantom showed up and not only got Robin to safety but had managed to take down all of the enemies without killing anybody.
From that moment on Robin considered Phantom a friend and had given Phantom the number to one of the burner phones he kept on him during patrols. Phantom never called but would answer any time Robin checked in.
Which came in handy one day when the entirety of the team got trapped when a building came down, including one very frightened Superboy. The team was arguing loudly among themselves as they tried to figure out how to get out while Batman sat to one side with a headwound.
None of them were in good shape.
They were running out of air.
And the team were fighting and wasting even more air.
"We need more help." Nightwing said, "But I don't think Superman could hear us from here and nobody else in the city will be able to reach us before we run out of air."
"I could call my friend." Robin suggested, leaning against the wall.
"Uh..." Everybody looked at Superboy then each other.
"Your what?" Red Hood questioned.
"Is he saying friends?" Whispered Signal.
"Did you hit your head?" Spoiler asked, walking over as Robin stepped away from her.
"No, this is delirium. The air is too thin in here for him." Red Robin said.
"Robin, all your friends are right here." Superboy said.
Robin scoffed. "I have other friends. You guys told me I needed more friends, so I made friends. It was a task which I completed." He said, pulling out his phone as he silently muttered a 'please work' under his breath.
"Aw! I'm so proud of you!" Nightwing doted as Robin rolled his eyes and hit the call button.
"Yo, Robin, you see the collapse?" Phantom's voice said, sounding weirdly echoed on the line, not that it was unusual for Phantom's voice to do such a thing on calls.
"Bigger problems. I was inside the building during the collapse. Batman is down. Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan, Signal, Spoiler, and Superboy are all in here with me. We need exfil."
"Oh shit, on my way. I can get all of you out at once but you guys will have to forget what personal space is for a minute." Phantom said as Robin ignored the looks from the others.
"Whatever it takes, but hurry we're running out of air."
"What floor are you on?"
"Basement."
"Got it, I'll be there in just a second." The call turned to static for a moment before Phantom phased through the ceiling and looked at them. "Wow, a party." Phantom said, ending the call and slipping the phone into a bag on his back.
"No time, get us out of here." Robin pushed.
Phantom nodded, "You and you put Batman between you." He ordered Nightwing and Red Hood who after a moment did as they were told, supporting Batman between them. "Now use your free hands and hug me. The rest of you guys hug them and no matter what do not let go of each other or me. If you do you'll die."
"Great, trust the weird glowing kid not to drop us and kill us or die here. This will only go well." Red Hood growled but didn't question it further as they all held onto Phantom.
Robin could feel the ground vanish from under them as they flew upwards through the building and then out into open air. Phantom then took then a safe distance from the building near where the police were and made sure they were all on the ground before he stopped flying.
"There you go. Thanks for riding Phantom-Air." Phantom said, sounding exhausted as he leaned against Robin who frowned up at the taller teen.
"You okay?"
"All good. Been a minute. You guys get checked out. See you around Robin." Phantom said, then flew away as Superboy grabbed Robin's arm.
"Are we going to talk about the fact that your new friend doesn't have a heartbeat?" He said anxiously.
"He... doesn't?" Robin tilted his head.
"No!" Superboy squeaked, "Where did you even meet that kid?!"
"He saved me from being shot. It's no big deal."
"Does B know he exists?" Red Robin asked.
"No."
"Then it's a big deal." The others sighed.
Nightwing shrugged. "Next time introduce us to him properly though, when we're not suffocating in a hole."
"I suppose I will consider it."
Orphan was quiet for a moment, "New brother?"
"NO!" They all said together as she chuckled.
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
Ok James but him and his slytherin girlfriend seem to come out of nowhere and the boys are supportive but are more mad at James for not telling them? Idk I loved your other fic SO MUCH
Thanks for requesting <3
part 1
cw: mention of injury, no details or anything though
James Potter x Slytherin!reader ♡ 1.5k words
You hesitate outside the doorway to the infirmary at the raised voices coming from inside.
You don’t need to be here, strictly speaking. James told you his injury wasn’t bad, and he has his friends to help him if he needs it, but…you can’t settle yourself down. You hadn’t liked the way he’d limped off the field, nor the tiny grimace on his face when Sirius had wrapped a bracing arm under his shoulders. It would be just like James to downplay how hurt he is to make you feel better, and the longer the game had gone on without him the more your guts twisted themselves into knots over the idea that he was in pain.
You’d seethed at yourself and your stupid soft heart all the way to the infirmary, where now you’re frozen just outside like a coward. Something inside you is coiled tight with tension at the idea of going to see James Potter, on purpose and in public, even though that’s dumb because now everyone at Hogwarts knows about the two of you anyway. Your sappy display on the quidditch pitch made sure of that. But now that you have official and widely-known claim to the girlfriend title, you have just as much right to see him as anyone else. You shove your anxiety back into your stomach where it belongs and open the door.
As soon as you’re inside, the voices become clearer. “—like this isn’t a big deal. The Prophet’s going to be all over the two of you by tomorrow, and we had to find out with every other fucking bloke at the school!”
“Pads, you don’t think I would have told you if I could?” James sounds exhausted, and something mutinous throbs in your heart. It’s followed quickly by the more familiar twinge of irritation at the use of those moronic nicknames they all have. “She made me promise not to tell anyone, including the both of you.”
They’re talking about you. Of course they’re talking about you. What else could possibly be more important after James has fallen a good twenty feet off his broom than his dating life? This is why you hadn’t wanted to tell people. Hogwarts wears away at private lives like dementors at souls, and the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin is too strong for your relationship with James to have any hope of remaining untainted once the gossip mill got ahold of it.
Your instincts are screaming at you to turn around and leave before they catch sight of you, but you force yourself to keep walking. If you start letting what people think about you and James affect you now, you’ll never be able to get past it.
Remus is the first to spot you, going still as if you’ve come to hex him, but James’ face splits into a lopsided grin that has the knots in your gut loosening very slightly.
“Especially you,” you say to Sirius as you brush past him, perching by James' pillow and weaving your fingers into his curls. There’s a wrap around his middle. It’s very hard to appear calm and blasé when you feel like you’re going to rupture something if he doesn't promise you he’s okay right this instant. “You’d have had all of Gryffindor talking about us within an hour.”
Sirius bristles but visibly shoves his temper aside, his voice matching your coolness as he says, “If I’d told anyone, Y/L/N, it would have been to inquire about whether anyone’s noticed you gathering ingredients for amortentia recently. James doesn’t keep things from us. Artificial infatuation is the only explanation for why he’d tolerate you and your secrets.”
“Oi,” James says, but you pat his head placatingly. You can fight your own battles.
“That how you got this one?” you jut your chin towards Remus, who’s looking somewhat entertained as he watches the two of you spar. “If I’m ever in need of the recipe, Black, you’ll be the first person I come to, but I don’t need to resort to such measures myself.”
Sirius glowers at you, and James sets his hand on your shoulder just as Remus wraps a pacifying arm around his boyfriend. “Alright, I think that’s enough,” the taller boy says in his usual calm manner, and though Sirius is still tensed for a fight, he allows himself to be drawn into Remus’ side.
James nods in agreement. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, really. I thought I’d get a chance to before everyone found out, but…” He turns up his palms helplessly. “Things didn’t go as planned.”
“We’ll get over it,” Remus says, Sirius quietly fuming beside him. “Won’t we, love?”
Sirius looks up at Remus' face, which is clearly a mistake, because he softens like butter in the sun. “Yeah, yeah, just gimme a bit,” he grumbles halfheartedly. “Anything to keep our Prongsie happy, right?”
James beams, so clearly relieved at the settlement of the conflict that you feel a bit guilty for participating in it. He kisses you on the cheek, chuckling against your skin. “You stink.”
“Some of us stuck around to play the whole game,” you reply.
“Ouch,” James says, but he’s grinning. “Couldn’t really help that, could I?”
You give him a look to let him know you haven’t forgotten how his negligence had gotten him hurt. “Debatable.”
You hear Remus chuckle but don’t take your eyes off James’ face, inspecting it for signs of the pain you suspect he’s hiding. “How bad is it really?” you ask, softening your voice even though there’s no chance of his friends not hearing you.
James worries his lip, big brown eyes looking into yours guiltily. “Pomphrey says I broke three ribs and bruised my tailbone pretty badly. Minor concussion, too, but nothing serious.”
Sounds serious enough to you. You ghost a hand over the back of his head as if you’ll be able to find and fix his hurt. He leans into your palm though, so it’s not for nothing. “I’m sorry I walked away out there,” you all but whisper. “I should have stayed with you.”
James eyebrows pinch together. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he promises just as softly. He knows what it costs you to talk like this in front of people, like you’re turning yourself inside out for them to judge and stab at as they please, but James has no such reservations. He dots a kiss, feather-light, at the top of your cheekbone, wrapping an arm around you protectively. “Thanks for coming, I mean it.”
You clear your throat. “Yeah, and in my fucking quidditch gear,” you say in your normal voice, attempting to banish the heavy mood. As if your heart isn’t still beating, hummingbird-fast and fragile, in your throat. “We both need to change and shower, and then you should rest. Did Pomphrey say you could leave?”
James nods, still looking at you like you’ve cracked open in his hands (he might be right; it feels like you have, and it wouldn’t even be the first time today). He rubs your upper arm affectionately, but his voice is easygoing when he says, “Yup, I’m good to go.”
Sirius steps forward, as though to remind the two of you that he is, in fact, also present. “Great. We’ll walk you back to the room.”
You turn to him, not quite ready for your time with James to be up and aching for the opportunity to dote on him in private. “That’s okay, I can take him.”
Sirius’ eyes narrow. “You can’t even get into our dorms.”
“Please, like Gryffindor’s riddles are so perplexing.”
“I don’t need an escort,” James interjects. He pushes himself up with a grimace.
You halt him with your hands on his shoulders and Remus says, “Don’t be stupid, Prongs, you can barely walk.”
“I’ve got him,” you say firmly. Sirius stares you down, but you don’t flinch from his stony gaze. You know he doesn’t trust you. You don’t think he’d willingly trust any Slytherin. Since you’ve been at Hogwarts, the talk in your house has always been that Sirius Black shuns his family because they’re all Slytherins. Although James assures you there’s more to the story than that, it’s still obvious to anyone that he considers his friends his true family. He won’t entrust just anyone with James’ safety. But maybe that’s one thing you can agree upon.
He must see something of this in your face, because after a minute Sirius relents, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he says. “I wanted to stop by the kitchens anyway.”
James is looking between the two of you curiously, aware that something has transpired but not quite sure what.
You don’t give Sirius a chance to change his mind. “Alright,” you say, gripping James' forearms and helping him to stand. “Let’s go, pretty boy.”
James drapes his arm across your shoulders gamely, and the two of you start out the door. “I don’t think that’s the insult you think it is.”
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x slytherin!reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#gryffindor x slytherin#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter oneshot#james potter drabble#james potter scenario#james potter imagine#marauders#the marauders era#marauders era#sirius black x reader#the marauders#marauders fanfic#marauders fic#marauders fandom#marauders fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞
pairing: sarah cameron x f!reader
count: 3.6k
warning: smut [boob play, scissoring, toys, oral receiving & giving, language?]
author’s note: continuation of ‘firsts’, idk where this is going so we’ll see. have fun reading & remember this is 21+! 💋
It had been a week since you last saw Sarah and almost two weeks since you two had been in the same room alone. It wasn’t as though you were ignoring her, she just became busy with the pogues which brought us to today. Sarah had invited you and Kiara over for a girls night. You didn’t suspect anything aside from the usual gossip, skincare, mani/pedis, etc. that took place at every girls night. Except this would be the first time you hung out with Kiara alone. She was always wrapped up in the guys or some ‘save the planet’ shit so you only saw her in passing, never private.
After you finished packing your bag, you grabbed your silk pajamas and towel then headed for the shower. During sleepovers, you and Sarah normally took showers at the house but you didn’t know if the norm for you and Sarah would be the same with Kiara included. Once you had unbraided your hair, you hopped in your shower and let the hot water relax you. Twenty minutes later and you were out, drying yourself then oiling then dressing. You pulled your freshly washed hair in a bun, no need to dry since it did so by itself. With your bag fully packed and you clean, you slipped on your uggs slippers and grabbed your phone as you headed downstairs.
Your mom waited in the car as you double checked everything and then you two were off. It took less than ten minutes to get to her house but you refused to walk or heaven forbid, bike there— in your pajamas. Your mom waved at you goodbye and you returned it, turning around to knock rapidly on the front door. A minute or two later, Rafe opened up with a confused look.
“Hey Y/N. Why are you here?”
You furrowed your brows, “The sleepover, what else?”
“Sarah didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
He scratched the back of his neck as he often does when he’s uncomfortable. “She and Kiara had some sort of fight so she canceled.”
Before I could say anything, he quickly added, “But you’re her best friend so I doubt she’d cancel on you.”
I looked up in the direction of the stairs and pointed. “Can I go up and check?”
“Yeah, yeah sure.” He closed the front door and locked it.
Before he could walk away, I asked, “If it is, could you drop me home?”
“Of course Y/N.” He smiled and walked away to some other part of the house as I headed up the stairs.
When I got closer to her room, it was the very last one in the long hallway, I could hear music. Her door was closed but the music drowned out the sound of me opening it. I leaned against the frame as I watched her bob her head around with her headphones in. I stood there for a minute or more then decided to interrupt. I waved my hand in front of me and that’s when her head perked up.
“Y/N! You’re here!” She exclaimed, taking out one earbud.
“Yeah but I probably shouldn’t be. Apparently tonight is canceled?” I asked with a raised brow.
“Oh that. Yeah, kinda.” This was unlike her, she always had an explanation.
I crossed my hands over my chest and waited. She stared at me, sighed then removed the other earbud and turned her phone off. She fixed her posture and sat crisscrossed, patting the space in front of her on the bed. I closed the door behind me, dropping my bag on the floor near the foot of the bed then sat down with one leg dangling off the edge.
Sarah explained that it was meant to be a girls night but she and Kiara got into an argument, as Rafe had mentioned. Apparently Kiara didn’t want me to hangout with the guys because, in her words, ‘one kook is enough’. That didn’t make any sense considering she was a kook as well but that was the argument. Sarah pointed out that we had been friends since childhood and I knew the guys, there wasn’t a reason why I couldn’t hang out with all of them but Kiara didn’t want another kook. Sarah thought this sleepover would bring Kiara and I closer but the moment she found out, she refused to come, hence why Sarah canceled it.
I was aware that Kiara wasn’t a fan of me but she had no reason why. She didn’t know me, only knew of me from others. The thing that bothered me the most was her calling me a kook as if she was a pogue. Anyways, there was no love lost. I just knew I had to steer clear of her, I couldn’t force the girl to be my friend but I was hoping to be cordial though.
“Don’t worry about her Y/N. I spoke to the guys and they’re down to hang without Kie.” Sarah assured me.
I let out a soft scoff, “Pope would never, maybe JJ or John B sometimes.”
“Yeah, he’ll be hard to convince but whatever. It’s girls night so what do you say about spending it without her?”
I shrugged and said, “I’m cool with it. More fun for us!”
“Rightttt…speaking of fun…” Sarah trailed off.
“Oh no.”
“I haven’t said anything yet!”
“Sarah, whenever you start dragging your words, you have something planned.”
She huffed, “Guilty.” She added quickly with a smirk, “Butttt, I promise you’ll like it.”
“What is it?”
Her face broke out in a wide grin, “Promise to keep an open mind?”
“Now I’m nervous.”
“No, don’t be! It’s fun!”
I let out a small chuckle, “So then tell me, what is it?”
“First close your eyes and remain seated.”
And just like that my smile went away. What on earth could she possibly be up to this time?! I knew I wouldn’t get any answers out of her so I agreed and closed my eyes. She got off the bed, walked toward her closet or was it her bathroom? I couldn’t tell but before she returned to the bed, she went to her door and locked it. I could hear her footsteps coming back towards me then the bed dipped and she sat in front of me.
“Okay now open.”
I opened one eye at a time but nothing in the room looked different. There was a box in front of me however, it was just a medium sized black delivery package. I stared at it then looked up at her then down at the box again. Was it an animal? Drugs? Expensive alcohol to hide from Rafe and Ward?
“It’s a box. I don’t get it.”
She smiled and slowly opened it. There were three smaller packages inside, also in black but they had different shapes. One by one, Sarah carefully unwrapped them as she paid close attention to my reaction. At first I furrowed my brows in confusion but the second it hit me, I gasped then stared in surprise and curiosity.
“Tell me you didn’t.”
“I did. Y/N I so did!”
“Does anyone know?”
“Nope. I’ve been watching the mailman like a hawk the past week.”
“Where’d you even get them?”
“Online. They have a return policy in case I don’t like it.”
“Do you?”
“I dunno. I haven’t tried it yet.”
I raised one brow and asked, “Will you?”
“Yeah…” She started then continued, “…if you try it with me.”
I accidentally let out a laugh, “Sarah I’ve never used them!”
“So let’s do it together! What are best friends for?”
“I don’t think normal best friends share sex toys.”
“Well that’s because they’re boring. Besides I like playing with you, we shared toys when we were younger.”
I fully let out a laugh, “Sarah, barbie dolls and dildos aren’t the same thing!”
“So you don’t want to?” She pouted slightly.
“I didn’t say that but…I might be convinced into it.”
Sarah smirked and before I knew what was happening, she unbuttoned her pajama top slowly. She shrugged it off her shoulders and sat there, staring at me. She had nothing underneath so for a while, we both sat in silence as I ogled at her boobs. Slowly, she cupped both breasts in her hands and rubbed them against each other. Her fingers brushed over her nipples and a faint moan left her lips.
I licked my own and looked up at her, all she did was nod. Without a word spoken between us, I reached forward and fondled them in my hands. They were so full and warm. I bounced them around, enjoying watching them sway in different directions. I lowered my head and took one boob in my mouth, it tasted just how I remembered it. I was too greedy though, I wanted the other in my mouth as well so I tried stuffing them. This made Sarah moan. I suckled on them like a baby, eyes fully closed as I immersed myself fully into it.
After a while, I pulled away and looked down at them. They were red with bite marks and saliva all over, I felt quite proud. I quickly reached down my own shirt and pulled it over my head, leaving my naked chest exposed to her. As if we were thinking the same thing, we both grinded our chests against each other. Her wet sticky boobs rubbed against mine, the body heat turning us on even more. We pulled apart and wordlessly, stood up and took our pajama bottoms off along with the underwear.
I got back on the bed and spread my legs apart, Sarah sat in front of me and widened her legs as well. She spit into her hand and wiped it on my cunt then on her own. She inched closer until I could feel her cunt against mine, she looked at me as though to ask for permission and I nodded my head. The moment our pussies touched, I let out a moan. We were both very warm and wet. I lowered my head slightly and spit in between us. Sarah moved her hips first then I followed, we continued until we reached a good pace.
The squelching noises of our pussies rubbing against each other was doing it for me. I grinded even harder against her, our boobs practically slapping each other but we didn’t care. We just wanted to reach our high regardless of the lewd noises. This went on for a bit until suddenly she shook. I saw this as my opportunity to take charge so I did. I easily pushed her down until she was laying flat on the bed on her back then I swung my leg over and adjusted myself. I lifted her leg up and held onto it for support as I rode her pussy.
Sarah could do nothing but lay down and take it, she reached up to slap my ass but otherwise, she praised me to go on. I no longer cared for her needs, I just wanted to cum. I was determined to ride her until I got my fill and even more after. I could feel myself tensing up and right on time, she shook again. Mere moments later, she squirted right on my pussy and I came on hers. In the heat of the moment, I licked up her leg, kissing and sucking different spots.
“Fuck Y/N, that was so hot!” She exclaimed, a wide grin on her face.
“Right? Shit that squirt made me cum more.”
“You like that baby? You like when I squirt on you?”
“So fucking much.” I bit my lip as I peered over at the toys. “How about I do it again?”
Sarah smiled and gave my ass a light tap. I got off of her as she reached for a light purple, almost lavender, two-sided dildo. She sat up and looked at me then placed the toy over my lips. I obeyed immediately and opened my mouth, making sure to stick out my tongue. She inserted the dildo slowly then pushed it to the back of my throat, pulled it out and did it again. I had a gag reflex so each time I would gag on it then cough. She kept repeating it several times until I no longer coughed but still gagged.
“Aww you look so pretty baby. Taking all that purple cock in your throat.” She cooed.
I couldn’t respond so I just nodded.
“Can’t speak? Too busy choking on my cock?”
My eyes started to water, she was going a bit rougher now. Saliva was dripping down my chin.
“What a pretty whore. She likes cocks and tribbing and boobs. Do you want me to fuck your mouth?”
I nodded quickly as my pussy clenched on thin air from her words. I was a good whore for her. I liked being fucked with a purple dildo. I liked stuffing her boobs in my mouth. Yes, I was a whore for Sarah Cameron.
“Okay baby but first I want you to beg for it.” Sarah replied as she pulled the whole dildo out.
I gasped at the fresh air, my eyes already blurry. “Please mommy, fuck my mouth. I promise to be a good girl for you.”
“Mm that’s a nice start but I want more.”
“I’ll let you fuck both holes mommy but now I just wanna suck.”
Sarah smiled and bit her lip excitedly. She tapped my mouth again and I opened once more. I was sitting on my knees but I leaned forward in excitement. With my boobs dangling about, Sarah shoved the dildo deeper into my throat and used her free hand to pinch my nipples. She slapped them around and commanded ‘bounce’ so I did. I made my tits bounce around for her as I choked on the cock. I felt very whore-like and I actually liked it.
Before I got too into it, she immediately pulled it out and simply said ‘bend over’ which I did as well. On all fours, I stared at the floor length mirror in front of me and saw my reflection. Sarah had situated herself behind me, rubbing my cunt as I waited with legs wide open for her. She spit on my ass and it dripped down to my pussy, my body instinctively clenched and she chuckled.
Sarah rubbed one of the heads of the dildo against my cunt then slowly inserted it. I had never had anything inside me so the feeling was very odd and uncomfortable as hell. I let out slow deep breaths and Sarah soothed my back. She went very slowly, only continuing when I would nod. Minutes later, I was relaxed and my pussy ached for more. I wiggled my ass a bit and she smiled, gave it a slap then pushed the dildo deeper.
She would push it in then out then twist it back in and so on. This went on for a while until I was seconds away from coming but she’d stop. Each time she’d deny me release, I’d whine and she would push it back in again. The edging was beautifully painful.
“For a first timer, you’re taking this cock so well baby.”
“Please let me cum.”
“Only if I fuck that thick ass too.”
I lowered my chest to the bed and raised my ass up, “Fuck me mommy.”
“Mm just like that baby. Keep that ass up for me.”
I waited until I felt the other head of the dildo enter. Somehow it was less uncomfortable than my pussy. I nodded and she pushed more of the length inside. Now both of my holes were filled and the thought just drove me wild. Sarah used both hands to fuck me, one fucked my pussy and the other my ass. I was nothing but a moaning mess, begging for more.
The sight of myself from the mirror was what made me squirt so much, it didn’t just hit the bed but also her chest. She laughed and fucked me even faster, I didn’t think I could cum again but I did. She removed the one in my ass and I thought my turn was done but instead she stuck her tongue in and licked whilst shoving the dildo deeper in my pussy. She spat into my ass and on my cunt as she kept on mercilessly drilling that dildo deeper and faster. I let out a loud scream as my entire body shook, went limp for a few seconds, then came on the cock. She pulled it out too fast, I moaned at its exit but her mouth was on my pussy to suck my cum. She ate me out for a moment then pressed a kiss and pulled away.
“Holy shit Y/N! It was like a freaking waterfall.” She sat back on the bed and licked her lips. “Tasty though.”
I laid on my stomach for a few minutes without saying a word then turned around and sat up. “Careful, fuck me like that again and you’ll ruin me.”
“That’s the plan baby. You’re all mine.” She smiled and spread her legs apart, patting on her cunt. “Now fuck mommy too.”
I took the dildo from her hand and asked, “Is it your first time too?”
She nodded, “Yeah so please gentle first.”
“I promise…” I started then finished, “…to ruin you too.”
Before she could respond, I spread her pussy lips open then with a mouthful of saliva, I spit into the hole. I put the dildo inside slowly but it went in quite easily thanks to my spit in her pussy. I looked at her and she smiled so I pushed deeper a bit then pulled out. I pushed it in again and went deeper, I kept repeating these actions whilst spitting to keep her wet. Her pussy was so greedy, it happily swallowed the cock deeper.
I now started to fuck her with it, slowly at first but when she begged for faster, I was unforgiving. I pounded that silicone purple cock into her wet needy pink walled pussy until she moaned endlessly for me. I put the other end in my mouth and fucked her that way instead, I bobbed my head faster and faster, equally fucking her and me. I was choking on it but I couldn’t stop, the sight of her cum dripping down the cock spurred me on. I sucked and fucked with all my strength but before I could move, she accidentally squirted and it got on my face.
I pulled my mouth away with a loud gasp but I wasn't ready to end it yet. With half the dildo still inside Sarah, I got up and squatted as I slowly lowered myself onto the other half. She was propped against the pillows whilst I was now sitting on top of her, the two-sided dildo in both of us. I grabbed my own boobs and played with them as I rode her. I switched between grinding on the cock and bouncing on it, Sarah encouraged me, telling me how pretty I looked fucking her. We continued fucking each other for a long while, i simply enjoyed the feeling of a cock inside me so I prolonged it. Sarah and I each came twice but I kept riding and she begged for me to stop.
“No, I want to keep riding.”
“Please! I can’t cum anymore Y/N.”
“But I like seeing you filled to the brim.”
“Fuck Y/N, don’t say that.”
“You like that? Wanna hear me say how full you look? How your hole is stuffed and your cunt is covered with our cum?”
“Keep going, I’ll cum again.”
“That’s it mommy. Cum on my pretty pussy. Look at your big tits bouncing around.”
“Please keep going.”
I reached down and gathered a bit of the cum then wiped it on her lips. I lowered my head and kissed her, my hips grinding forcefully against hers. She was quick to suck my bottom lip in so we tongued each other. Our boobs were slipping and sliding around, our cunts were squelching, it was all so hot. She came again and moaned into my mouth, we both cummed against each other but we also squirted. I pulled away and continued to ride slowly until I was satisfied and came to a stop.
I lifted myself off of her and removed the dildo. I looked at Sarah with a satisfied smile. She pushed me back gently and brought her head to my cunt. With small kitten-like licks, she cleaned me up and sucked softly. I closed my eyes and slowly grinded on her lips, she continued until suddenly when I felt something else at my entrance. I opened my eyes and peered down to see her trying to fit her boob into my pussy. I chuckled and she quickly looked up at me, she reached me with a slow crawl. Sarah laid on top of me then placed her nipples on my mouth.
“Be a good girl and clean mommy’s tits, they’re covered in your cum baby.” She instructed while holding onto her breasts.
“Yes mommy, I love your boobs.” I said before sucking on one nipple then switching to the other. I continued doing this until Sarah was satisfied.
We decided on getting cleaned up so while she changed her sheets, I went to her bathroom and started the shower. I came back and she was ready, we went to the shower together where we kissed once more and she inserted the dildo in me and sat on my lap as she rode it. All I could think of at the moment was thank goodness Kiara wasn’t here. I’d have missed out on fucking Sarah senseless and vice versa. Maybe Kiara just needed a good fuck too.
🏷️ taglist:
⤷ @mrs-maximoff-kenner @thatfanficstuff @elijahmikaelsontrash @mxacegrey @thatfictionalwh0re @catmikaelson20 @loverswillowed @panic-at-the-fiction @iiskittles16ii @original-siphon @hellotvshowtrash @onlyfreds @onlyfredslibrary @imgoingtofreakoutnow @slinthoex @i-love-nora @multiversediaries @decoffinated-vamps @hopester08 @aloneatpeace @hopes-wife @softcoremaybank @klaustopia @dreamingwithrafe @sweetestdesire @cottontears @cottonreads @buckyysdoll @spnandtvdudeservedbetter @impossibleheartflower @madetragic @spike-and-angels-gf
home ✰ navigation ✰ masterlist
#aurora.r fics#sarah x y/n#sarah cameron x reader#sarah cameron smut#obx#outer banks#outer banks smut#rafe cameron#jj maybank#kiara carrera#john b routledge
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Part 4 of Ghost Kid in Gotham
<<1 Previous Next
How to catch a baby brother
Richard 'Dick' Greyson had a problem. It wasn't a nuclear level of problem but it also wasn't a paper cut level of problem either. Because apparently he had a baby brother no one in their family but Damien knew about. Granted Damien had confessed that said baby brother was dead and had supposedly died eight years ago.
The explanation that Talia had apparently pulled another Jason was not helpful at all. According to Damien, in response to Tims findings, there was no other way for the twin to be alive other than Talia having preserved his body and then decided after eight years to drop it into the pits. Well lets just say his opinion on that woman if it was already down in the depth it certainly was now.
Which, considering the glowing Lazarus green eyes, could mean that there was now an eight years old child running loose in the Bat Cave with Pit Madness. Not just a simple feral eight years old that looked like perfect B adoption material and so happened to be blood related.
"Guys we need a plan. We can't just let our little teethling run loose."
"Richard, do not refer to my brother as little teethling." Dick only grinned. "Well the little biter needs a nickname and until I find something else fitting its teethling. Or do you have a better suggestion?"
Sweet little Baby Bird was now glowering at him. Oh protective were we, his little brothers definitely were the cutest. He was definitely going to tease sweet little Dami about this later once the first phase of new little brother crisis was over. For now they had to find the little guy first. The Cave wasn't exactly childproof.
"Let's use Jason as bait." Tim suddenly suggested causing the second oldest to grimace. "The little guy apparently likes biting him. We could use that as an advantage."
"Absolutely fucking not." Little Wing disagreed and Dick chuckled in good humor.
"Aw come on Little Wing, this is your chance to make a bond with our new baby before any of us can."
"For once I agree with Todd. Absolutely not, who knows where he has been. I will not have my brother become sick from biting him." He would have cooed at this, if Jason's face change from surprise at the agreement to a purely offended scowl wasn't so funny.
"Okay no biting bait. But we gotta draw out the little guy and calm his Pit Rage." If that feralness the kid displayed had even anything to do with Pit Rage.Considering the glowing eyes though he would think so. Dick eyed Jasons for a moment, he didn't seem to be affected at all nor had he said anything about the Pit being upset or feeling anything strange. So maybe the little guy wasn't suffering to an extrem from it? But he had apparently been brought back by a Lazarus Pit, so the likelihood with their experiences so far was slim.
"Well we gotta find a way to secure the little guy before B comes back or Alfie finds out." Jason mentioned still scowling at Damien. "By the way, I want to be here when you guys tell B about this. I wanna see his face and make fucking sure the little biter won't be turned into another kid soldier."
"Jason." He scowled, this was definitely not the right time for that sort of discussion but he had a point, they needed to find little… what had Damien said his name was? Wait did Damien even tell them the little guy's name? They all had just been using nicknames so far.
"Dami, what's the little teethling's name again?"
"I haven't told you yet." Ah okay so he didn't have a hole in his memory. "It's Danyal, but when we were younger he didn't like the way grandfather and our teachers called his name and insisted on being called informally as Danny."
"Okay right, so we better find little Danny and get everyone together to introduce-"
"Might I ask who this 'little Danny' is, Master Dick?"
He did not scream. But his heart rate shot up with Alfred just appearing behind him like that. Really sometimes Alfred could be as bad as Cass in the ways of sneaking up on people without them knowing.
"Alfred, hey hi what are you doing down here?" He was not nervous, no he wasn't. The way the butler narrowed his eyes at him did definitely not scare him at all, nope.
"I was informed that all of you returned uninjured." Though his eyes narrowed at Jason's hand that got cut earlier and his brother instantly tried to hide it behind his back when he noticed Alfreds eyes on him. "But the four of you, despite having returned to the Cave, have not come up yet. So I was merely checking on you, to make sure nothing was wrong after all."
He gulped. Really there was no way of ever hiding anything from Alfred.
"Jason brought a child to the Cave that we found out is Damien's twin that had died eight years ago but was brought back to life and is now feral and hiding somewhere in the cave."
At least it was Timber that blurred out everything they knew so far.
"His name is Danyal." Baby Bird added and the four of them waited for Alfred's reaction.
"I see. I will go prepare one of the rooms then and inform Master Bruce to return sooner from his meeting with the Justice League then. As well as prepare for a family dinner as soon as possible, I assume. Will my help be needed in finding young Master Danyal?"
"No worries Alfie, I think I have an idea on how to draw out the little shiiii-biter. You made cookies, right?" Jason at the last minute corrected his words because of the look and Dick couldn't help but snicker.
"I indeed did. If my help is not required then I will be on my way."
Giving them all one last look over, the Butler smiled before he turned to leave. Dick, Tim and Jason let out a sigh in relief once Alfred had left again to which Damien only eyed them strangely.
A little while later Jason went to get the cookies and came back with the plate and staring at a green post-it note. "Since when does Alfie stick green post-it notes with cryptic shit on plates?"
"What?" His brother only shrugged offering the note to him. Tim was looking over his shoulder at it and the two stared at the strange writing.
"I think Cass or Steph might be pulling a prank on us? These look just like random squiggles."
"Let's leave this for later and look for the little teethling." He passed the note to Tim, noticing the curiosity in his eyes. Oh boy, he probably should make sure his little brother gets some sleep instead of trying to encrypt whatever was written on that little note all night.
"Now everyone lets take a cookie, resist eating it and go hunt down our little teethling."
Damien narrowed his eyes on him. "I told you to stop calling Danyal that." The little baby bird still took a cookie though and marched away into the bat cave. They had separated wandering through the Bat Cave trying to cover as much ground as possible and by this point Dick was ready to call for Cass to join them, maybe even wake up Duke just so they would finally find the little kid.
That was until a familiar yowl of pain resounded in the Cave. The direction made Dicks stomach sink once he remembered just what was in the Cave in this direction. "Jason!"
Once he arrived there he feared for the worst. Jason avoided the area, because B had placed their Lazarus Pit there and his brother had often said that it was one of the reasons he didn't like coming to the Cave that much anymore let alone into this area of the Cave. To hear his brothers shout of pain from that area couldn't mean anything good.
Well that was until he got to the scene. Dick didn't know how long he stood there frozen but at some point he knew he took out his phone to take some photos of what was happening. Tim was already laughing and Dick was pretty sure that Babs was most likely recording this with one of the many cameras B had in the Cave.
Jason lay with his back on the ground, with one hand his brother was still holding the cookie waving it desperately before Danny's face who was biting down on the other arm sitting on the downed vigilante's chest. Little hands gripping onto the arm in an attempt to make sure no one was taking his chewtoy away from him. Meanwhile Damien was trying to lift the little biter off Jason by holding him with his hands under the kids armpits.
"You little shit! FUCK! Come on, here is the cookie! Take the fucking cookie! OUCH FUCKING HELL! How is he resisting Alfies cookies!"
"Danyal, No! You do not know where Todd was or how dirty he is. Let go of his arm this instant. We do not want you to get sick!"
"Hey!"
This was gold, Dick decided, and would go straight to the black mail as well as family memories folder.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#damian wayne#feral danny#jason todd#danny and damian are twins#dp x dc#de aged danny#fanfic#dick grayson#richard grayson#tim drake#dc x dp#crossover#alfred pennyworth#unedited#no beta wie die like danny#Jason the chewtoy#Alfreds cookies are irresistible#Danny doesn't know that yet#clockworks post-it notes are cryptic and in ghost speech#dpxdc
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Why all the crowd scenes look the same, aka: Something is WRONG in Soho
I'm not even gonna tease and draw this out because it's so cool it doesn't need the fanfare. Ready?
Season 2 takes place over the course of 5 days. During that time, most of the passersby in Soho - maybe even all of them - stay exactly the same. It's the same people every day, wearing the exact same clothes, and they wander through the neighbourhood in paths that don't make any sense. You won't be able to unsee it. I can't believe it's taken us this long to realise.
Don't believe me? Rewatch the scene from 2x03, I Know Where I'm Going where Shax confronts Crowley outside the bookshop, appearing in a series of different guises. Pay attention to the people going past.
I've marked out five people you see on screen when Crowley first exits the bookshop at 39:37:
Numbers 1, 2 and 3 are following the path right. Number 4 follows the path left. Number 5 crosses the road.
Here the five people are again, at 40:19, when Crowley goes to return to the bookshop:
Number 5 is still visible in the distance, in the direction she walked in. This makes sense! But numbers 1, 2, 3 and 4 are rounding the same corner they just passed. It's as though 1, 2 and 3 all decided to turn and head back the way they came just 40 seconds ago, and number 4 has circled the block to join them.
This on its own would be super weird, but they're not the only people to do that in this scene. The man in the purple sweater from the first picture crosses the road, then appears back next to the bookshop, then starts walking back the way he came again.
Here's the part that made me absolutely certain, though. At 40:05, a man wearing an orange hoodie with blue sleeves walks past Crowley, who is heading towards the bookshop entrance.
The camera cuts to a view from behind Crowley, and a moment later, at 40:08...
He reappears in front of Crowley and walks past him again.
It's such a distinctive outfit, there's no mistaking it. They are absolutely fucking with the background characters and they are absolutely doing it on purpose.
Your turn. There are at least three other characters in this scene who pass by multiple times. Watch it again and try to spot them.
This scene is really chaotic and obvious, but the phenomena I'm talking about is much bigger than just one scene. Let's go back to the first thing I said: the background characters don't change. All our leads do. Maggie and Nina wear distinctive outfits, clearly demarcating each new day. Even Crowley and Aziraphale, who in season 1 were like cartoon characters with wardrobes full of identical clothing, vary their looks. Crowley changes his (very subtly) each day; Aziraphale is less rigid on timing, but he has a few different coats that he switches between. The background characters, on the other hand, wear the same outfits every single day. They walk by on the street but they never actually seem to have a destination. They sit in the coffee shop or pub and don't eat or drink anything, and nearly everyone leaves together exactly on closing time. It's eerie.
For reference's sake, here's a rough timeline of season 2, with pictures of Maggie and Nina's outfits to show the passing of time. I had to outsource this section because my post was too image heavy, lol. The main point I wanted to make is that five days go by.
Five days, and all the same faces keep showing up in the background, and almost none of them change their clothes. I'm not entirely sure what it means, but there's no way it's an accident. It might, in fact, be a game changer. To me this is proof positive that something is not as it seems. I've been a massive Clue skeptic, adamant that I'd only be convinced by the most unambiguous evidence, and honestly? This is enough to move the dials. It's too big for me to ignore. Whatever grand explanation of Good Omens we come up with has to account for this. I don't have it yet, but my current working theories are that Crowley and Aziraphale are under some seriously heavy surveillance, that time warping is involved, or that reality itself is not what it seems.
It would take a really long time for me to go through all of the background characters who turn up over and over but I do want to show you what I'm talking about. To wrap up, then, I'm going to pick out some memorable characters and walk you through a few of their appearances through the week. I highly recommend looking out for this yourself on your next rewatch and seeing how many other characters you can recognise.
Yellow Skirt
The first person I kept coming back to as being not quite right. You probably remember her from the first episode - she's the one who waves and walks past Maggie and Nina the night they're locked in together. Incidentally, she's also Person Number 3 in the scene with Shax.
Day 1 (2x01 - 36:20):
Day 2 (2x02 - 42:03)
Day 3 (2x03 - 06:36)
Day 5 (2x06 - 30:00)
Coolest Leather Jacket In The World
It's not so easy to recognise people wearing lots of nondescript dark colours, but I love his hair and his jacket, so he stood out to me. I think there might be a lot more people who are wearing fairly nondescript clothes who I just can't recognise from episode to episode.
Day 2 (2x02 - 16:44)
Day 4 (2x04 - 41:20)
Day 5 (2x06 - 29:20)
Dressed In Mustard
Ms Mustard shows up everywhere. If you want to see what I mean about their paths not making sense, pay attention when she comes on screen, because she'll often show up a few times in succession and walk very purposefully to nowhere in particular. The thing that she is doing, essentially, is behaving like an extra in a tv show. Which of course she is, but you're supposed to make that invisible by not having the same person go back and forth in the same scene, or changing up their outfit each in-universe day to give the sense time is passing. Not doing that is a really deliberate choice.
Day 1 (2x01 - 22:37)
Day 2 (2x02 - 42:03)
Day 3 (2x03 - 01:49)
Day 3 (2x03 - 37:07)
Day 5 (2x06 - 29:59)
Swishy Dress
This character shows up a lot in the first episode. I've struggled to find her in later episodes, though. None of the characters seem to follow the same patterns or show up to equal extents each day, which makes me think this isn't a straightforward time loop. I haven't actually cross referenced character appearances to in world times, though. Possibly this is a project for someone who's more across the time-related shenanigans than me.
Day 1 (2x01 - 22:43)
Day 3 (2x03 - 07:01)
Yellow Vest
I've only seen this guy a handful of times, always around the French restaurant. I wonder if there's significance to that.
Day 2 (2x02 - 41:06)
Day 4 (2x05 - 12:49)
Fuzzy Blue Coat
Another background character who shows up frequently. The blue doesn't stand out quite as much as the yellows and reds some characters wear, but it's very distinctive.
While we're getting a lot of shots of the street, it's worth noting that I'm pretty sure the vehicles we see are also just the same few cars repeating each day. A lot of them are in neutral silvers and monochrome, but there's a couple of blue cars, one red, and one black and white that I'm fairly sure I've seen over and over through the season.
Day 1 (2x01 - 22:45)
Day 2 (2x02 - 42:04)
Day 3 (2x03 - 02:00)
Day 5 (2x06 - 40:10)
Day 5 (2x06 - 48:56)
Day 5 (2x06 - 50:06)
One final note: Whatever this is, Nina's employee who you see in the background at the coffeeshop sometimes isn't affected by it. He's wearing different outfits each day. On the other hand, some of the other shopkeepers do seem affected. I'm fairly sure Mr Brown and Mrs Sandwich wear the same outfits a few different days, only changing because of Aziraphale at the ball.
And that's it! Thanks for reading and I hope your mind is blown as much as mine is.
EDIT:
Hey I don't mind anyone pointing out production reasons that this might be the case or disagreeing with my analysis (over-analysis, some might say 😉). Please be kind about it, though. I'm not ignorant of the practical limitations involved in film making, but some of these costumes were really distinctive in a way I thought might be intended to draw attention.
For those of you who do find this theory convincing, I feel I should mention that I was working under the assumption that this stuff would have taken a few days to film, even filming it all together. That would strongly suggest that the actors were deliberately costumed the exact same way over multiple days of shooting, which made me think it had to be purposeful. @coranax was kind enough to point out, though, that behind the scenes videos said the extras were filmed separately to the main actors because of Covid protocols. In that case, they could have done it in just one day and that weakens my confidence in its intentionality.
Finally, all of my points about the scene with Shax in 2x03 stand. That was not a case of accidental continuity errors, it was really elegantly choreographed to enhance the tension in the scene. I say that with confidence because the extras are doing exactly what Shax is doing: circling Crowley, appearing where he doesn't expect them, creating a whirlwind sense of being off balance and out of control. I think it's really cool and effective, whether there's a deeper meaning to it or not.
734 notes
·
View notes
Text
Us (Alexia Putellas x reader)
A/N: I have no idea where this came from but it has been stuck in my head for a few weeks. I hope you guys like it!
You had been in the most important meeting of your career when you received a message. You never turned your phone off in case there was an emergency but you did put it on do not disturb. The small vibration in your pocket told you 1 of 2 people were trying to get in touch with you. Your manager was in the meeting with you so it only left one person.
I need you, please can you come over.
As far as Alexia was aware you were in England. Your mind went to the worse case scenario because it had to be something bad if she was asking you to get on a plane and fly to Barcelona with no explanation.
In the politest way possible you excuse yourself from the meeting and leave your future in the safe hands of your manager, who upon seeing your face backs your decision to leave without asking any questions.
A quick text is sent to your girlfriend saying that you are on your way but there’s no response. You try calling only there is no answer. By the time you get to her apartment building you are filled with worry and you waste no time in running up the stairs having no patience to wait for the elevator.
When you knock on the door you are not met by your girlfriend.
“You’re the lion?” The resemblance was even more striking up close. You had met Alba once or you had at least been in the same room as her.
“Technically I’m a lioness”
It makes a little more sense now. No one was aware of your relationship and in order to keep the questions at bay you didn’t save each others phone number under a name, instead it was an emoji. Yours was a lion due your national team’s nickname and your on pitch persona. Hers was a crown because she was your queen and known by the fans as La Reina.
“Alba let her in” another woman, Alexia’s mother, guides you through the apartment even though you have been here enough times to know your way around.
“You’re the girl my daughter has been seeing”
“I am and I will happily introduce myself and answer any questions you may have after I have seen her”
“She’s in the living room. When we came she was crying and she won’t talk to any of us” one of Alexia’s best friends says.
It didn’t look good. Her mother, sister and best friend all at your girlfriends apartment yet she is refusing to talk to any of them
The three woman give you some space as you enter the living room. All of them hoped that you would have more luck at finding out what was wrong.
“Hello you” you crouch down so that you are at her level and without saying a word Alexia wraps her arms around you tightly. The speed of it almost sends you both to the ground but you steady yourself just in time.
Once on the sofa Alexia buries her face in the crook of your neck.
“How are you here?”
“That doesn’t matter. Alexia, what is wrong?”
“They won’t leave me alone. It’s like they are obsessed with my personal life. I’m happy, why isn’t that enough for them? Why do they need to get involved and keep bringing up the past?”
You were at a loss. Yes you were aware of the spotlight that was constantly on Alexia, one was on you as well but you had been dating for almost 2 years now and nobody was the wiser.
“Who cariño?” Eli asks from the other side of the room.
“The girls. They think that because Jenni signed for Atleti that we are going to get back together. We finally got back to a good place during the World Cup and no one seems to understand that we are just friends. We are Y/N, I promise nothing is going on” Alexia turns to look at you.
During the World Cup you saw the rumours and they spread quickly given that everyone assumes Alexia is single. At first it bothered you but the two of you talked about it and you realised that you were jealous for no reason. Alexia was your girl and only yours.
“I know” deep down you hated that she was still getting linked to another woman but it wasn’t a threat to your relationship so you let it go.
“They are going to ruin everything. They don’t even know and they are ruining—“
“Alexia, nobody is ruining anything. Let your friends talk. At the end of the day it is me and you”
The three other women in the room watched and listened as you talked Alexia through her panic. You were able to calm her and bring her peace in a moment that was very overwhelming for her.
“But Jenni is—“
“Jenni is your past and that cannot be changed. What have I told you?” You ask your girlfriend.
The woman who is still cuddled into your side mumbles something incoherent and you know she is mumbling because she doesn’t want the other women to know the words you told her during the summer.
“She’s your first love Alexia, I intend to be your last” you kiss the corner of her mouth.
The sound of awes burst the little bubble that you had formed around you and Alexia. Clearly embarrassed, Alexia once again hides herself.
Knowing that the two of you can’t ignore the introduction that the women are waiting for, Alexia officially introduces you to Eli, Alba and Miri as her girlfriend.
“What happens now?” Alexia asks you “Do we tell people? I don’t want our bubble to break, everything is normal with you. We are Y/N and Alexia but when people find out we will be captains, players and rivals”
“Hey, calm down. They will change but we won’t. Do you want to be us normal or what everyone else expects us to be?”
“Us normal”
“Well then I am going to drive you back to your training facility, open the door for you like I always do, I’ll kiss you goodbye and then you’re going to go to work”
Your confidence was reassuring to all in the room.
Alexia tells you that she is going to freshen up in the bathroom which leaves you alone with three of the most important people in her life. Your media training comes in very handy as you are able to answer all of Alba’s and Miri’s questions without hesitation or breaking a sweat. However, Eli’s question catches you off guard.
“You’re the reason why Alexia didn’t come back to the room after the awards show in Dubai aren’t you?”
“Guilty but nothing happened” technically it was the truth, nothing did happen that night “We spent the night in the hotel bar talking then went to the beach to watch the sunrise”
“Can I ask you a question?” Alba says “If you were in England when you received the text would have come?”
“I would have been on the first flight out, yes”
It seemed to enough to please the younger Putellas because she simply nodded her head.
Once Alexia was ready you did as you said. The two of you drove to Joan Camper, Alexia quizzed you the entire car journey because you still hadn’t told her why you were in Barcelona. You open the door for her as expected but what Alexia didn’t expect was you to walk with her into the facility.
“I love that you care but you don’t have to do this for me, I can handle it”
“Who says I’m doing it for you”
The two of you stop in front of the canteen. It was surrounded by glass windows and you can see the majority of the team eating their lunch.
“Us normal?” You ask Alexia and she nods her head. As you normally would whenever you visited her or she visited you, you kissed her once on the lips and then once on her hairline as she hugged you goodbye.
“Wait! Where are you going?” Alexia asks as you don’t go in the direction of the exit.
“You asked how I’m here. Well, I have a job interview with your boss”
#alexia putellas x reader#alexia Putellas one shot#alexia Putellas imagine#woso x reader#woso one shot#woso imagine#barcelona femeni x reader#barcelona femeni imagine#barcelona femeni one shot#espwnt x reader#espwnt one shot#espwnt imagine
950 notes
·
View notes
Note
What are your thoughts on fwb!mingyu?😩
“i’m getting sexiled? again?”
mingyu scoffs at his roommate and puts his hands on his hips.
“you don’t have to leave! you just can’t be… here.” he gestures to the general living space, making wonwoo roll his eyes.
“unwelcome in my own home,” he mutters under his breath as he gets up from the couch to retreat to his room.
“come on, you know i can’t have you around when she gets here or you’ll say some dumb shit.”
wonwoo smirks. “like what? that you’re in love with her?”
“exactly. that’s exactly what i’m trying to avoid. so if you’d be so kind as to-”
“it’s the truth, though.”
there’s a knock on the door and both boys turn their heads toward it. mingyu shoots another glance at his best friend who holds his hands up in surrender. “i’m going, i’m going. remember to use protection.” then he shuts himself in his bedroom before mingyu can get another word in.
mingyu approaches the front door, takes a deep breath, and opens it, catching you as you spill into the room. you’d been leaning against it for god knows what reason but thankfully mingyu is very strong and gets you back on your feet with ease.
“what was that about?” he asks, gazing at you fondly.
the light is dim but you still notice the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you…
“wanted to make an entrance,” is all you offer as explanation, pointedly not looking him in the eye.
“well you certainly did.”
“is wonwoo home?”
mingyu pouts. “am i not enough for you?”
you shove his chest and drop your bag on the bench that sits by the door. “no, dummy. i just want to know how quiet we have to be.”
“ohhh. well, yeah, he is home. sorry.” you shrug. “it’s not like he doesn’t know what you’re here to do, though.”
“sure but we shouldn’t be rude! it’s his apartment too, you know.”
his apartment that mingyu had all but kicked him out of two minutes ago.
“let’s go to your room,” you urge, “it’s already late.”
-
“fuck, baby,” mingyu groans as he watches you bounce on top of him. “you’re so wet…”
you whine quietly, nodding. “been thinking about this all week.”
“yeah? why didn’t you call earlier, then? could’ve been giving it to you every single day, pretty girl.”
you tighten up at the pet name, making mingyu smile.
“didn’t want to… seem needy.”
“from now on call whenever you want,” mingyu gasps. “any time. i’ll fuck you right, yeah?”
“gyu…”
“i mean it.”
mingyu knows he’s getting into dangerous territory here… but that’s how it always goes when he’s inside of you. you fall into bed together, he says some questionable things that neither of you acknowledge later, you both cum (you preferably over and over), and then you act a little weird and claim you need to get home. you’ve never spent the night, not once. mingyu wishes you would.
“you do?”
“yes, baby. i’ll give you this dick whenever you want it. just have to ask.”
“what if…” you sniffle, “what if i want it all the time? what if it’s never enough?”
“then you’ll get it all the time. it’s your dick anyway, baby.”
“fuck, i’m going to cum again!”
you’ve already came on mingyu’s face and his fingers, so it doesn’t surprise him that you’re already back on the edge.
“go ahead, i’ve got you,” mingyu whispers, rubbing soothing circles on your hips.
your eyes roll back as it hits you, fingernails digging into his shoulders. he helps you ride it out and then flips you onto your back. he’s close too, but he doesn’t want it to be over yet. he’s just not ready to let go of you for the night.
“still with me, pretty girl?”
you nod hazily, your cockdrunk grin plunging right into mingyu’s heart.
“good, because i’m not stopping until you beg me to.”
843 notes
·
View notes
Text
Drown In You
♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: In the shower with Joe, words get spoken that hold nothing back. This is the cut scene, the one entirely jumped over, from part 5 of Reinvent Love, remastered in full HD for your enjoyment. Full smut, little plot (although, read Reinvent Love because it'll help)!
CW / disclaimer: 18+, smut, language, rpf, fem!reader, reader has hair that needs to be brushed after showering
Author’s note: okay so the horny bitches in my inbox have let themselves be heard, and who am i to tell you no? here you go my cumcum twats, enjoy!
Wordcount: 3.2K
“I’ll wait.”
Old hair product mixed with sweat ran into your eyes as the shower stream hit you right over the head and… wait. What? You didn’t think you heard that right.
Joe was holding you, because you’d let the surface crack. You didn’t know if it was his repeated asking for you to talk to him, or if it was how he kept looking at you. But you’d cracked, and you’d seen Joe’s eyes flare for just a second, like what he’d been asking for actually didn’t turn out to be what he wanted. Immediate regret punched him right in the stomach when you showed the smallest bit of emotion.
Joe worried about you.
Worried he was pushing you further away whilst he was trying to keep you close.
Worried he had made mistakes too big to rectify.
Worried you were never going to tell him how you actually felt and he’d just have to go off body language, which, you’d been doing that and it had been fine, but some situations called for explanations.
Like this one.
He just thought you’d get angry with him. Not that you’d cry. In hindsight, he didn’t fully understand why that hadn’t been the expectation, though. You always felt with your whole body. Heavy emotion and tears always found you fast.
So he’d curled his arms around you then, and it took you a good while to control the spasms inside of your chest. You weren’t technically crying, you didn’t think, but if Joe was going to press you to talk one more time, you’d burst right into sobs.
And then he said, “I’ll wait.”
That made you look up at him, forcing him to slide one of his arms from around your head.
“I’ll wait for you. I can be patient.”
So you had heard him right.
The line in between your eyebrows grew deeper as you frowned at him, because what the fuck did he mean he was going to wait? And, in addition, what the fuck did he mean he could be patient?
Joe had just followed you around the flat trying to provoke you into arguing – that’s essentially what he’d been trying to do. Bold of him to claim he could be patient.
You were in the shower together and you knew Joe was just trying to say nice things by ways of comforting you, probably. You hoped that was what was going on. But he was getting it so wrong.
“But…” you started, trying to both make sense of what Joe meant whilst simultaneously thinking of how to tell him he was dead wrong. “I’m right here.”
And you had been.
Joe was the one that left.
You remembered Joe telling you, “Yea, you’re not going anywhere.” in a tender moment when you were trying your best to comfort him for a change, and you’d reacted the same then. Of course you weren’t going to go anywhere. You were there.
Always there.
“I’m right here.”
Joe blinked a couple of times, and looked a little lost, face blank and unassuming.
“I’m right– Joe, what do you mean, you’ll wait? Have we not been– is this not what we’ve been…”
Doing?
You couldn’t finish the sentence and furrowed your brow at how words seemed to escape you, all earlier bravery gone, because it sounded a lot like a big confession that you’d not vocalized before, and what if you were wrong?
What if Joe was going to tell you that, actually, no, what you were saying was not what you had been doing at all, you stupid bitch.
He wouldn’t say that.
But that’s what it would feel like if you were wrong.
Your brain was swimming, thinking thoughts and trying to draw conclusions where there weren’t any to be drawn when suddenly, it all clicked into place for Joe.
He was such an idiot.
Before you knew what was happening, Joe had you shrieking. He’d bent at the knees, got both arms around your waist and picked you up. It was a cute celebratory thing, because whatever you’d said had been all Joe had wanted to hear for weeks. But it was also really fucking terrifying, because you were in a wet slippery bath and you both had wet slippery bodies and the only way Joe was centering his gravity was by his face that was smushed against your chest and this was exactly how sometimes people got bad concussions.
“Joe–” you squeaked from your throat, and you were about to swear at him. Tell him to put you down. That he was a fucking idiot. That he was stupid and that this was dangerous, despite the smile that was already playing at your face.
But then before you could get any of that out, Joe let you slip down and kissed you hard, right on the mouth. Your back bent away from him and had you disappear into the shower stream, but Joe just followed, hands squeezing your sides and his lips roughly pressed to yours, not willing to break contact.
You tried wrapping your head around how you got from trying your best not to cry to being kissed in the way that you were, already feeling drunk on the giggles you were swallowing, and it felt a little ridiculous.
And then Joe spoke through his kisses and said words you didn’t think you would ever accept from him.
“I love you.”
But actually, it was fine.
You were surprised how easily joy bubbled up from deep inside your gut at hearing him mumble his confession. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth, but Joe kept his mouth right there.
“Joe,” you pushed him at the shoulders, and instead of moving away, Joe decided to move closer, feet squeaking against white acrylic. You got cornered until your back touched the tiles and you laughed as you turned your head to break the kiss.
Joe just followed, curled around and got you from the side and, “Joe!” you giggled, because there was water streaming straight into your face, and you knocked one of the shampoo bottles down into the bath, and Joe kept hogging your mouth and you needed that to breathe and– oh.
Joe was hard.
You felt it against your hip and Joe felt how it startled you slightly.
“No, I’m sorry. Ignore that,” you could hear how there was laughter stuck inside of his voice too, but there was something urgent there too.
“I love you. Did you hear me?” he bent to make eye contact, got your chin into his hand to force it. “I love you. I said I love–”
“I love you too.”
The wet words slipped out before your brain could even catch up to it, voice way softer than Joe’s, but you didn’t mean the words any less.
Somehow it was an easy thing to say. It helped that Joe said it first, so you were just parroting which didn’t feel half as embarrassing as you imagined it could have been.
Your words stilled Joe’s whole body, just for a moment, completely frozen, and then he groaned with both eyes squeezed shut and let his head fall, face first into your shoulder.
You grinned when you looked down and saw the direct effect of what you’d said.
Made you want to say it again.
“I love you too,” you made it sound extra breathy that time, not even sure if Joe would be able to hear it over the shower water clattering into the bath, but you could tell he caught the words fine from the way Joe’s knees gave out for a split second, dick jumping and already leaking.
You loved Joe.
“Hey, I love you. Did you hear me? I said I lovemmpf–” Joe got a hand over your mouth just for the sheer agony of what it was doing to him. You took your shot and bit right into his fingers as you smiled.
“Stop it, you’ve got to– you can’t–”
Joe didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence. You got him back in the best way; with wet kisses and with scraping teeth. With hands in his hair that you used to push him right against your face. With a leg that hiked itself up until your knee touched his hip, prompting Joe to get his hands under your ass, lifting you up and pushing you against the wall in an attempt to slip inside.
But all of it was too slippery.
Too wet.
And you were laughing too much to make it work.
So you kissed, with both feet sort of steady in the bath and let your hands touch bits of Joe that made him flinch.
You were sharing your first shower together, and it felt sort of momentous.
“I love you,” Joe said again like they were the only words he knew how to use now, dragging his lips down your throat, pressing kisses to your chest.
“I love you, too,” you replied, biting your teeth into your bottom lip whilst working both hands on him, using one underneath and making Joe gasp.
Joe kept trailing down more until he kneeled and you lost your grip on him. Without warning he pressed his whole face into you, and both your hands found his shoulders as you worriedly tried pushing him back.
“No, Joe,” you pushed until you could look him in the eye. “Stop, baby, you’ll drown.”
Baby.
Joe looked up at you and quirked his eyebrows as he smirked, both because you’d never called him baby before and because of the double entendre.
You meant that Joe could drown because you were in the shower and if his mouth was busy, surely he would end up inhaling the water that ran down your body until he’d fucking choke.
Joe, however, took it to mean something else.
And he wasn’t exactly wrong, either.
“I mean…” he started, making eye-contact with what was right in front of him. Pretty. Glistening. Dripping. Joe was about to say some stupid shit aloud, was about to say that he loved her, maybe even just as much as he loved you, because, Jesus Christ, he really fucking did.
“I’ll happily drown in you.” he got a small kiss in where he wanted to so desperately kiss you, but then you laughed and said, “No. No drowning today.” as you sunk down to your own knees, joining him sat down in the tub.
Joe easily accepted you, hands finding yours to help you down safely, happy to oblige and move to where you wanted him to be, which was sat on his arse where the water hit him overhead.
With his eyes barely open, he grinned widely as you moved to sit on his lap, one knee either side of him, arms slung around his neck. It was a tight fit and skin squeaked against the side of the tub. Joe thought that surely this couldn’t actually be nicer than him getting mouth on you, but, sure.
Your pace, remember?
Your lead.
“I love you,” you mouthed as you went in for open-mouthed kisses which Joe happily accepted, pulling you into him hard, trapping himself in between the two of you and starting quick little tilts of his hips. You helped by finding a rhythm of your own, rubbing over him and holding Joe as close as you could to add pressure where he was so clearly looking for it.
“I love you,” Joe breathed in reply, and they were barely even words at this point. Just wet vowels falling from a gasping mouth that tried telling you how good this already felt, and that he wasn’t even inside yet.
Joe’s lips tinged just as shiny red as the tip of him, and you weren’t sure if you were working up a sweat more now than you had during your run, but you knew that this activity was much preferred over the other.
When you finally lifted up just slightly more and used your fingers to line Joe up to slip inside, you saw how droplets of water spat from his lips as he mouthed a desperate, “Please.”
Joe didn’t need to beg.
But it was lovely when he did.
Made you stall, just to hear him say it again. Have him ask extra nicely.
You felt how Joe’s grip on your hips strengthened, fingertips digging deeper into your flesh.
“Please, please. Baby, please, can you–”
You sunk down onto him, making him disappear inside of you entirely. The loud moan that escaped you surprised Joe enough to move a panicked hand up to cover your mouth.
That just made you whine louder.
“Shh– shhh–,” Joe trembled through shushes, trying for eye-contact, “You can’t– you... you gotta be quiet. You...” Joe faltered, hand moving to hold you by the side of the face, fingers disappearing into wet strands that were then used to pull you in closer to kiss.
God, he fucking loved you so much.
Could you feel it? Could you feel how anguished he felt that he only had two hands to touch you with? Could you feel how feverish and lightheaded you made him feel? Could you feel how there was a deep craving inside of him that only you could satisfy for him?
He wanted you to feel it.
Feel his love.
Joe wanted you to feel how much he loved you, so he used his mouth where he could, and used his hands where he could, and he imagined how the water running down the two of you was getting rid of all the bullshit.
You were being cleansed of all the bad until there’d be only good left.
You were having sex in the bath until it’d be nothing but just love there.
You rode Joe in the bath until your knees starting hurting too much. Until the water than ran down both your faces became too annoying. Until your hands knocked all the other bottles of shampoo and conditioner into the bath behind Joe. Until Joe got too freaked out that he couldn’t shut you up, and wasn’t that an insane contrast to whatever he had been trying to do the night before?
You hadn’t minded Joe trying to get you to be loud.
But Joe trying to get you to stay quiet was infinitely better.
It made you want to be bratty about it. Be loud on purpose. Get those eyes to flare and bulge, wet lips shushing you, but otherwise doing nothing else to stop you from feeling good. Because ultimately, that’s all Joe wanted; for him to be the one to make you feel good.
When Joe came, he made a sticky mess of the side of the bath.
When you came, you made a sticky mess of Joe’s fingers.
You kissed for a while after then, stood up out of the direct surge of water, and you loved this. Loved kissing Joe as your brain slowly found its way back to reality. It was all soft touches and slow movements and a terrible waste of water, but you fucking loved it.
When you thought Joe reached behind to finally turn the shower off, you found he instead reached for a bottle of shampoo.
“Turn around.”
Joe made sure you felt it.
Felt how fucking loved you were.
Massaged your scalp with love in his finger tips.
Rinsed your hair out with love in his palm.
Towel dried you after with love in his arms.
You had never felt this taken care of before, and when Joe reached for your hairbrush, he was surprised to turn back and find two wet shimmering eyes staring back at him in the large still slightly fogged-up mirror.
“Hey,” he curled an arm around your front and you let a wet chuckle escape you. “You okay? What’s going on with you right now?”
You shrugged and felt silly as you looked at each other via the mirror. Joe pressed a kiss against your ear, and you managed to squeak out, “I don’t know, just love you, I guess.”
That made Joe push his forehead to the side of your skull as he bit his lips into his mouth.
“Oh no,” he softly said, wincing slightly before you could see him smile. The effect of those words hadn’t just gone and changed within the last hour, so it seemed.
“I love y–” you were cut off by a louder groan as Joe bent down, hinging at his hips, pushing his head into your ribs and you couldn’t help but laugh as you let your arm scratch up and down his back.
“Maybe,” Joe breathed, eyes squeezed shut for a second in a bid to recompose himself. “Maybe don’t use those words for right now.”
“Got it.” you nodded. “No talking.”
That made Joe turn his head enough to see you smile in the mirror. Joe hadn’t just spent all morning to make you talk only for you to
“All right, no. That’s not what I said, I–” Joe moved to stand up straight again, and you saw your chance to make him double over again.
“I love you.”
“You– hnngg,” Joe had to turn and lean both elbows on the sink, head dropped down, having real trouble finding his breath.
“Tell you what,” you started, smile unable to be swiped from your face, and you grabbed Joe by his shoulders. “I’ll go make breakfast. Throw that pizza into the oven. We’ll have it on the sofa and then you can brush my hair after, all right?” you pressed a small kiss to his shoulder blade and wanted to say it again, just for fun, but decided you’d probably tortured him enough.
You tapped a shoulder to which Joe hummed and then went to leave the bathroom, turning around and unlocking the door.
“Hey,” Joe stopped you just before you walked out, and you looked over a shoulder to make eye contact with him in the mirror once again.
“Love you.” Joe’s constricted voice squeezed out, just because he couldn’t have you tell him three times and not say it back.
You smiled and used a hand to pretend to lock your lips up, making a breathy laugh escape Joe before he let his forehead drop into the crook of his elbow.
Loved you.
Joe loved you and he loved that you loved him. He just needed a minute.
You loved him.
That needed more than a second to acclimate to.
Your love.
He would so happily drown in it, you had no idea.
Perhaps, he should take the lead for just a little while. Make sure he was actually going to survive this.
His lead.
His time, maybe.
His pace, definitely.
But your love.
Always your love.
the end
---
The Taglisted
@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,
@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,
@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,
@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,
@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,
@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,
@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,
@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,
@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,
@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo
taglist currently full, sorry
#joseph quinn#joe quinn#joseph quinn x you#joe quinn x you#joseph quinn x reader#joe quinn x reader#joe quinn fanfic#joe quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn fanfic#joseph quinn fanfiction#reinvent love#define close#explain us#drown in you
208 notes
·
View notes
Text
till dawn || eyeless jack || the finale
SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. this one’s a lil fluffy not gonna hold you guys. i’m so sad to see till dawn end :’) but all good things must come to an end eventually. i think down the line i will create a bonus chapter, but for now this is the end of till dawn. love you all. mwah!
bonus part is here
Knock knock knock!
A groan of annoyance left your lips, your senses resuming as you regained consciousness.
“Wake up fuckers! You owe us waffles!” Ben’s cheery voice flooded your ears, his voice echoing down the hallway outside of Jacks room. You sighed, rolling over and shoving Jack awake. A confused snore escaped his lips, his eye sockets finally opening.
“Huh?”
“Ben wants waffles,” You sighed, flopping back down onto your pillow. Unfortunately you both had lost one too many rounds of mario kart, resorting in a wager of cooking breakfast to end in Ben’s favor. Jack groaned. “Okay Ben give us five minutes!” He called. You rubbed your eyes, looking over at the window. The sun had just reached above the trees, the sunlight beams streaming across the room. A triumphant Ben continued down the hallway, whistling proudly.
“Holy fuck, what time is it?”
Jack chuckled, sitting up against the headboard.
“I told you we’d only have till dawn before someone showed up at our doorstep about breakfast.”
He was right, but converting to rising at the early hours and staying up late was exhausting. You rolled over lazily, your back turned to him. “Have none of them ever heard of sleep schedules?” You grumbled. Jack couldn’t help but chuckle, your settlement into the mansion one that occurred with ease. Your charming personality and ability to cook won everyone over, even the proxies.
“We live in Slender’s mansion babe, we’re lucky the sun even rises here,” Jack replied, pressing a soft kiss against the back of your head. Slenderman’s reaction was a completely different story, the explanation of your existence the longest tale Jack had ever had to explain. Letting humans know about creeps existence was grounds for exile. It was forbidden to make spectacles out of themselves, even if the long term plan was for you to become a creep. (Which, it was not even an option to Jack.)
Becoming one, losing that grasp on sanity or facing an unfortunate fate of torture and death could never be planned though. Unless of course you were Jeff, then you knew how to create an arch nemesis. Jack would never want that for you, which he explained to Slender. Out of all of the mansions residents and outsiders, there was not another creature like Jack. A creature that went into an animalistic heat and needed to mate. Slender knew this and that led to his approval.
Another factor that Slender considered was that Jack was the oldest and wisest. If he was to entrust anyone to bring a human into the house, it was him.
Jack curled up beside you, your back pressing against his chest. “Sleepy this morning are we?” Jack asked teasingly, peppering kisses on your neck and shoulder. You chuckled, moving yourself closer to him. “I would’ve gotten better sleep if someone hadn’t kept me up all night,” You replied. A mischievous smile spread across Jacks lips, his hand slithering down to your hips.
“If it makes you feel any better i’m sure Clockwork didn’t get much sleep either,” Jack said, his lips refusing to stray far from your skin. His hand slithered further up your skin, slipping under your nightgown. You bit your bottom lip, Jacks fingertips lightly tracing your skin. “Thats gonna make a terrible first impression,” You sighed. Clockwork didn’t frequent at the mansion, leading to you never officially meeting her. Having her room be next door and hearing you beg for more? Not exactly the best first impression.
“There have been worse my love. When Jeff first came here Slender tried to make him a proxy. He tried to burn the mansion down,” Jack said, cupping your heart. Your thin panties blocked him from complete access to your cunt. Your breath was becoming shaky, your thighs opening more for him. He inhaled deeply, the smell of your arousal hitting his nostrils. “You just can’t get enough can you?” Jack teased. You groaned softly as he rubbed more harshly against the fabric.
“Of you? Never,” You replied, satisfied to feel Jack push your panties to the side. His lips attached themselves to your neck, his boner poking you from behind. You could feel him suck at your skin harshly, purposefully littering your neck with as many marks as possible. “I’m going to keep looking like a wounded puppy if my neck stays forever purple,” You chuckled, gasping as his fingers rubbed up and down your wet slick. You bit your bottom lip, two of his digits dipping into your cunt.
“My wounded puppy,” Jack snickered. He curled his fingers inside of you, your hand finding its way to his aching cock. He gasped as you palmed at the fabric of his basketball shorts, slipping your hand underneath the waistband. “Not sure if we’re doing to have time for this love,” Jack admitted, even if he didn’t want it to be true. You moaned in response, pumping his shaft as he finger fucked you. “It can be quick,” You offered. You bit the inside of your cheek, refraining from moaning louder.
“Please,” You whimpered, sealing your fate. Jack grinned, the two of you eagerly switching positions. Jacks back hit the soft mattress, licking his lips as you straddled him. Your panties had been discarded, his shorts and boxers pooling at his ankles. Jack was never one to not be in control of sex, even with you riding him. Sometimes he’d let you pretend you were in control, if he was feeling nice enough. But each time you got a bit out of line, Jack was quick to put you in your place. However, he couldn’t deny how ethereal you looked riding him.
You lowered yourself onto his cock, both of you exhaling in relief as he bottomed out inside of you. The shape of his cock bugled from your stomach as it always did, a subtle, very hot reminder that he was much bigger than you. Jacks hands found your hips, leaning forward to kiss you as he guided you. You groaned into his mouth as you rode his cock, his tip hitting your g spot. Playfully you grabbed his shoulders, pushing him back onto the bed. Jack admired your breast bouncing as you chased your high, riding him like a wild animal.
Your body over time came to crave Jacks almost identically to the way he craved yours. (He couldn’t help but wonder if scientifically his cum had altered your hormones.) You smiled lovingly as you looked down at Jack, his facial expression one of contentment. The sun had risen higher, hitting his face at a flattering angle. It highlighted his sharp jawline and round nose. “What’s so funny?” Jack asked. You shook your head, continuing to hold your sinful noises in the best you could as you rode his cock. “You just look so handsome like this,” You complimented.
Jack blinked, “What, under you?”
You giggled, playfully slapping his shoulder. “No EJ, with the sun shining on your skin,” You replied, rolling your eyes. Jack leaned forward, wrapping his arms around your back. He completely and utterly adored you, your flattery and complimentary of him meaning the world. “You look even better, so beautiful taking my cock like this,” He huffed, snapping his hips upwards. You whined as he began to move faster, taking control. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, biting down on his skin to control your noises.
“Thats it, bite me as hard as you want love. Mark me,” Jack panted, his cock abusing your cervix. He was tempted to say hell to breakfast, flipping you over and fucking you senseless like the animal inside of him craved. But he knew you cared about his roommates opinion of you, even if to Jack he wouldn’t consider them friends five out of seven days of the week. Your teeth sank into Jacks shoulder, a subtle growl escaping his throat.
Something about seeing you so primal, but so desperate to keep quiet made him pound into you harder. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, a trail of saliva dripping down Jacks shoulder as your teeth clenched around his skin. You whimpered, your hands tangling themselves in his hair as you came on his cock. Your walls spasmed around his shaft, a deep grunt escaping his lips as he came inside of you.
You released his shoulder, grimacing down at the bite mark. “Holy fuck, I don’t know where that came from,” You panted. Neither of you had moved, Jacks gaze moving to your breast. “Neither do I, but it was pretty fucking hot,” He admitted, kissing your breast.
‘Waffles! Waffles! Waffles!’
The sound of Toby and Ben chanting from downstairs made you chuckle. Jack could hear them slamming their silverware down on the kitchen table, the sound making his ears twitch. You slowly slid off of you, whimpering as your walls squeezed the air. His cum slowly dripped down your cunt, the sight the most satisfying sight to Jack in the world. He laid back on the bed, propping himself up with his hands behind his head.
He admired you as you brushed your hair, throwing on clothes. You were so focused, Jacks staring going over your head. It wasn’t until you were ready, turning around to find Jack undressed and unbothered. “What are you doing? Ben’s gonna come through our radio any minute now if you don’t get dressed,” You say. Jack rose to his feet, bringing your back against his chest. He towered over you easily, resting his chin on the top of your head.
“How did I ever get so lucky?” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your head. You giggled, examining your stomach. “Do you think you’ll ever get me pregnant one of these days?” You asked curiously. Jacks eyebrows furrowed, his large hands resting on top of yours. “You do know that’s scientifically impossible right?” He asked. Yeah, maybe his cum was seeping into your hormones. Or maybe your brain.
“Yeah it’s still a nice thought though,” You shrug. Turning around you wrapped your arms around his neck, admiring him from below. Your eyes were dancing with curiosity. Tilting your head to the side a simple question left your tongue, “If I somehow did, you’d want to keep it right?”
Millions of thoughts soared through Jacks mind, ones mixed with the joy of parenthood and ones of terror. Would the fetus become a demon just like him? Or would it be as beautiful as you? What would it eat? Would raising a child in a mansion full of monsters from its worst nightmares be sustainable? But as he looked down at your puppy dog eyes, your orbs flickering back and forth as you awaited an answer.
Creeps had never procreated before, successfully anyways. It would be a first for all of them, especially Jack. He wanted to believe there was a piece of him that wasn’t an organ eating monster. One that could raise and love a child that was a mixture with the person he loved the most. He was almost sure he would’ve gotten you pregnant by now, with the amount of times he’d locked you into the mating press alone.
Truth was Jack would give you whatever you wanted, even if it was most likely scientifically impossible. “I want whatever you want my love,” He purred, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.
Bang bang bang!
“EJ learn how to keep it in your pants and pour some batter in the waffle maker instead!” Ben called.
You giggled, Jack sighing as he pulled on his pants.
“And in the mean time we have Ben.”
“We most certainly do and that’s enough for me.”
#eyeless jack x y/n#eyeless jack x you#eyeless jack smut#eyeless jack x reader#jeff the killer x eyeless jack#eyeless jack x jeff the killer#eyeless jack#creepypasta x y/n#creepypasta x female reader#creepypasta x you#creepypasta lemon#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta smut#creepypasta#jeff the killer x y/n#jeff the killer x you#jeff the killer x reader#jeff the killer smut#jeff the killer
179 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
itflippinhurt
21 she/her
madhav-agrawal
Madhav Agrawal
bookmarketingblog
Untitled
gctdb
Game Content Triggers Database
rim20m14m3m4a
R i m a 2014-3-4