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#still might make my own spin on one some time….
lot-of-nothing · 1 day
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Entwined (Ch. 7)
Melissa Schemmenti x Reader
Weekend getaway :)
Warnings: Suggestive themes aaaaandd a little of that internalize homophobia again
Author's Note: NO BETA BC THIS TOOK ME FOREVER GOOD LORD IM SORRY FOLKS! I moved and started a new job and I leave for Europe in a week so life has been NUTS
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6
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Melissa led the way through the front doors of the hotel. You could tell she was excited by the highly animated way in which she spoke to you. She used her hands and fingers to gesture to you and she lingered close to you with her last word, “This weekend is about three things: the endless buffet, laying by the pool, and sex.”
The corners of your lips rose as her lips neared your own. There were still a few inches between you, but you knew that was plenty close for a place as public as a hotel lobby, “In that order too?”
Your response made the redhead laugh as both of her hands squeezed your bicep. You lost yourself for a moment while you watched her grin at you. It was the voice of a man that unfortunately ripped her eyes from you, “Melissa?” 
As she turned to face the voice, her red hair flicked over her shoulder with the spin of her head. When her eyes landed on the familiar face of her ex boyfriend, her smile faded, but her tone remained polite, “Hey, Gare.”
A brief silence fell between the former lovers (as did a thick awkwardness), and you waited patiently for one of them to speak up. Gary was the first to break the silence when he noticed Melissa’s eyes wander over to the brunette at his side, “Oh, this is my girlfriend - Lea Ann”
Melissa only nodded, remaining silent and giving a faux smile to the lofty man. It was when he realized Melissa had very little interest engaging with Gary and Lea Ann that Gary decided to turn his attention to you. With a kind smile, he reached out his hand, offering it to you along with his name, “Gary.”
“Y/N.” You return the smile and handshake, surprised at the way his face lit up at hearing your name.
“Mel told me about you when we were dating.” He quipped while wrapping his arm around Lea Ann’s shoulders, hugging her to his side. He seemed genuinely delighted to make your acquaintance - it made you wonder why Melissa refused to commit to something more serious with him.
You folded your arms over your chest, glancing down at Melissa and then back to Gary again, “Did she now?”
Gary was highly enthusiastic with how he spoke to you, recalling memories Melissa had shared with him months ago, “Of course. You were her date to the senior prom after some punk ditched her.”
You couldn’t hide your pleasure in knowing Melissa had talked about you in her previous relationship. You had always assumed she would have kept even your friendship a secret. With a great big smile, you bump your shoulder against hers lightly, “I mean, how could I say no to a face like that?”
Melissa gave a reluctant smile, changing the subject away from your relationship, “What are you guys doin’ out here?”
Gary eagerly squeezed Lea Ann to his side once more and beamed at her. The brunette shifted into his side, wrapping an arm behind his back to better lean against him. It was clear they were enamored with one another, “Early anniversary trip. Lea Ann and I met at Dave & Busters not too long after we broke up. She is real good at skeeball.” 
Lea Ann added to the conversation with a shy voice, “How about you guys?”
“A trip for old times’ sake.” Melissa’s response contained a tone that was anything other than warm. While some might not have noticed, you saw her turn snarky and her nose wrinkled ever so slightly. It was obvious to you Melissa was offended by what she thought was Lea Ann’s ‘nosiness’. The redhead folded her arms over her chest, indicating she was finished with the conversation.
Gary knew Mel well enough to give a curt nod and guide Lea Ann away from you both, “Well, I hope you two have a great time.’
“Yeah, you too.” Your voice fell as they walked away - knowing full well Melissa would be upset at this interaction when you arrived at the hotel room.
You shifted awkwardly near the door of the hotel room. Melissa had abandoned her luggage in the middle of the room and tossed her purse on the bed before dropping into the chair into the corner to scroll on her phone. She seemed increasingly detached from you since you had spoken to Gary. 
While the detachment made you furious, you gave her a chance to tell you how she was feeling before you spiraled, “Everything okay?”
She didn’t even look up from her phone when she replied. If anything, she seemed annoyed that you would even ask such a question, “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Biting your tongue, you turn your back to her with a huff and tug open the door, “I’m gonna go downstairs.”
You twist the glass of dark liquor in your hand, mindlessly watching the ice swirl about in the liquid. A fire had been lit in your stomach at the realization that nothing had changed between Melissa and you. She still refused to admit her feelings for you or the opposite sex. Of course you were infuriated, but it was more of a rage fueled sadness had you refusing to look at Melissa who sat (im)patiently next to you. 
“You gotta work with me here. It’s one thing to take a weekend away together, but it’s a whole other thing to be tellin’ people that we are a couple.” Melissa sounded colder than she would have wanted, but there was no taking the words back now. You felt yourself growing angrier by the second.
It was clear Melissa didn’t truly understand why you were upset with the entire situation. With a deep sigh, you chose to explain your feelings to her, “I don’t mind that we aren’t official or whatever. I don’t even care that this is so casual. I just can’t be your dirty little secret anymore.”
“It isn’t like that.” 
Her reply was quick, but you weren’t convinced. “Melissa… Anytime someone gets remotely close to the truth, you get all spooked and then I have to deal with the consequences.”
The redhead chewed at the inside of her cheek, unsure of what to say to you. She remained facing forward, her fingers absentmindedly ripping at the napkin placed in front of her by the bartender. Mel furrowed her brow as she spoke, “I’m not spooked. I just don’t want people all up in my business.”
You weren’t convinced.
“Either way... You know how I feel about you... how I have always felt about you, and I-” In an instant, you regret opening your mouth. You could see a faint blush spreading across her cheeks from the corner of your eye. As always, you had gotten ahead of yourself, and now it was time for you to finish explaining your emotions before Melissa found a way to steer the conversation away from the vulnerability it was currently steeped in, “For me, it feels like you’re ashamed... of me, and it’s not a great feeling.”
Melissa glared at you for a few moments, and then you saw her left hand reach out to hold you by the back of the neck to pull your lips to hers. Your heart began pounding in your chest as you felt Mel’s teeth teasing your bottom lip and her right hand creep up to the middle of your thigh.
When she pulled her lips away from yours, her voice was low, “I’m sorry I made ya’ feel that way. I could never be ashamed of you.”
Regardless of the people sitting all around, you dove back in for another kiss. You felt her melting into you. With every second you kissed her, Melissa inched closer to the point in which she had slipped off her chair to stand between your knees. Her hands braced against your thighs and breasts pressed to your chest. 
The redhead was breathing heavily when she finally drew her lips away from yours. She had turned her head to glance around the room in search of prying eyes when you buried your nose in her hair. 
After Melissa’s worries of being watched were soothed by the absence of onlookers, she turned back to you, capturing your face in her hands. She spoke in a low tone which caused you to swallow hard, “Let’s go upstairs, hon.” She took your hand, tugging you along after her towards the hotel lobby. 
The deafening chorus of casino games, live music, and both winning and losing gamblers was all but a mere whisper to you the moment Melissa peered over her shoulder at you with a smile - a smile that only confirmed your long standing love for her.  
When she had you in the elevator, you were up against the wall before the door was closed with her mouth against yours. Mel was busy trailing her lipstick from your lips to your neck as you choked out a dizzied concern, “We are... going to miss our... uh, dinner reservations.”
“Where at?” Melissa was far too busy tasting your collarbone to give much attention to the thought of going out for dinner. She was far more interested in getting you up to your hotel room to get more acquainted with the hotel bed.
“Some fancy steakhouse.” You murmur before returning her fervor. By now the elevator doors were shut and neither of you had given much more thought to pressing a button to get the elevator moving. Instead you were more consumed with the urge to turn the tables on Melissa and press her against the elevator wall. 
Melissa’s hands were woven tightly into your hair as you pinned her to the wall. Your force only propelled her further into the raging desire she felt for you. Mel didn’t need to use any words to convey how much she needed you. Everything about your kisses was sloppy and steeped in desire. 
She allowed one of her hands to wander to the back of your neck as your lips drifted down her neck to her cleavage. The redhead held you tight with one arm while the other clumsily reached to illuminate the button to floor 15, “We can just order pizza.”
Her efforts to get the elevator headed towards your floor weren’t swift enough. The elevator dinged and the doors to the lobby parted, allowing a familiar tall, bald headed man and his brunette girlfriend onto the elevator with you both. 
With the introduction of Gary and Lea-Ann onto the elevator, Mel and you partially parted. She kept an arm around you with a hand resting on your hip and her body was pressed to yours as she suppressed a coy smile. Melissa raised a manicured hand to her lips, attempting to tidy her smeared lipstick with her thumb. All the while she stared at you down like a starved lion. 
Your heart was pounding and you couldn’t take your eyes off her. It took everything in you not to confess your love then and there. She was beautiful like this - seemingly liberated of her shame and enthralled with the premise of being caught in such a public act of affection. 
Gary was obviously confused by your closeness and he cocked his head, needing to double check to see if it was really Melissa who was really pinned into the corner of the elevator by you, “Melissa?”
“Oh, hey.” She cleared her throat and acknowledged him with a wave of her hand. You attempted to move your hands from her waist, but her hand caught your wrist to prevent you from pulling away. 
The elevator devolved into silence as it began moving to the upper floors. You couldn’t see the looks on Gary or Lea-Ann’s faces as you were too busy watching every shift in Melissa’s expressions. You wondered if this would be the end of your relationship. Your heart was pounding and you were growing anxious at the thought of the potential rejection headed your way. The only thing that kept you from completely losing it was Melissa’s manicured hand on the back of your neck, softly twirling your loose locks between her digits. 
Her eyes flickered between the rising elevator numbers, your company, and the elevator doors. Melissa was terrified of who Gary could tell. Through all of her family and friends, she knew this moment could reach someone she knew in a matter of hours. Her personal fears were being slowly subdued by her own willpower. As her eyes drifted back up to your face, they were now filled with a subtle determination to prove herself to you. 
Melissa pushed against your abdomen so you would step aside, but she kept both hands on you as she talked to Gary, “How’s your night goin’?”
“Good. I- I didn’t know you two were-” Gary couldn’t hide an ounce of his confusion at seeing you together. 
“Together? Yeah, well... Now you know.” The redhead finished his sentence before adding her own bit of attitude at the end of her thought. A lump formed in the back of her throat at admitting your relationship out loud, but there was no taking it back now. 
While Melissa was dealing with her own inner turmoil, you were relishing in the fact that Melissa described you two as being ‘together’. You were riding that high even after the elevator stopped on your floor and Mel took your hand to pull you after her. 
It was Melissa who lifted your arm to place around her shoulders when you stepped off the elevator. She also turned back to face her ex boyfriend with a cheeky grin, “Have a good night you two.”
Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore, @jeridandridge @petty-femme27, @darkcolorphantom, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @cosmichymns
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typellblog · 2 days
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Suruga Devil - An Analysis
Something I’ve been thinking about is how even though Oshino disappeared six books ago, some way or another a specialist manages to crawl their way into every arc. Almost irregardless of the circumstances, these kids need someone to explain the problem to them. To bring them face to face with the truth they haven’t quite realised yet. 
In Hanamonogatari, though, advice might be the last thing that Kanbaru Suruga needs - despite, or perhaps because so many different people want to offer it to her. 
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I’ll be riding my arc formula all the way from Bakemonogatari until the wheels fall off, so I think here I want to talk about the title again. 
Suruga Devil. Isn’t that odd? It almost sounds like we’re dealing with the exact same oddity as her first arc. Except there’s a different Devil-sama in this one, someone who has more devil parts than Suruga herself. Numachi Rouka is also an oddity, by virtue of being already dead, and by that logic Suruga must be the ‘victim’ of her haunting. 
The theory is floated here that all ghosts work similarly to Hachikuji. They hang around because of a certain regret, and people with a similar regret or issue are the only ones that can see them. What, then, is Rouka’s?
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I think there’s something to be said for how obviously she wants to play basketball with Suruga again. 
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Even in a series full of unreliable narrators Rouka is unique in that we don’t get to see her internal narration, just how she chooses to present her life story to Suruga. There are hints that she was spinning it a bit - Higasa mentions that ‘family issues’ Rouka hardly talked about also contributed to her suicide, not just the broken leg. 
Frankly I see in Rouka someone trying to put up a strong front to hide how severely something actually affected her. She refers to herself derisively as misfortunate, acknowledges the suffering that it caused her, but still tries to make herself seem distant from it, like it’s something she’s already dealt with. Like her misfortune-collecting has made her happy again. 
Her initial attitude is hostile, confrontational. She seems like she’s trying to upset Suruga, describing her own activities in a tone that makes it obvious how unapologetic she is about the scumminess of it all. She wants to feel powerful, in control of the situation, even if it means she has to come off as an asshole. 
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In their final match Suruga leans into it, matching Rouka’s hostility and desire to compete with her rather than running away from it. I want to say it’s a way of paying her final respects.
Rouka says she didn’t feel like she ever suffered a clear loss in life. Her injury didn’t come from a dramatic final showdown. Losing her scholarship didn’t make it impossible to continue schooling. And her leg’s rehabilitation didn’t make it impossible for her to live on. But at the same time, all of these things ground her down until she didn’t know what to do. Rouka says you can run away from almost every problem, and she did. She ran away from school. She ran away from getting a job. And in the end, she ran away from life. 
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Kaiki remarks to Suruga that she can’t run away from all her problems. In his case he makes it brutally literal, but in an emotional sense he’s not somebody Suruga can ignore either, this weird older dude that has a history with her mother. Koyomi and Hitagi apparently told her to run away as soon as she met him, but they must not have considered he might have no ill will towards Suruga, not do anything that justifies running away from him. 
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When Rouka gets on top of Suruga and draws close enough to kiss, she could run. She knows she could run. She doesn’t. Did you want her to kiss you? Some things you can’t run away from, because deep down you don’t want to. Like the dark reverse side of a wish.
For Rouka, the Rainy Devil is a competitor. It actually does something to solve people’s problems, where her method allows these anxieties to work themselves out by having the people in question do nothing at all. Some things are only made worse by worrying about them - in the hands of the Rainy Devil these problems that may have worked themselves out over time instead get escalated into potentially life-destroying issues.  Rouka isn’t one to make use of the devil’s arm, Suruga thinks. She would simply run away from the problem, not rely on external means to solve it. She’s strong like that. Strong enough to pretend her problems don’t matter to her. 
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Only to pretend, though. The phrase “It’s better to regret doing something than regret not doing it” comes up. Rouka is of course on the side of regretting not doing something. A third path between victory and defeat. It has its advantages, Suruga does acknowledge it. But it can’t resolve anything. Rouka’s problems still exist, she just isn’t facing them. What Suruga does is make Rouka confront her and in doing so symbolically confront everything. It gives her a clear reason for her loss. It lets her let go. 
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I think the reason that Rouka is so confrontational with Suruga, so eager to play basketball again, is because she knew this on some level. She prefers to regret not doing something, but of course that means she still regrets not doing something. She still wants to do it, still wants to play a proper match and finish off their middle-school rivalry.
I wondered what Rouka’s specific regret was, as a ghost, and while that game is about as close as anything, it still feels like I’m missing the big picture. Rouka doesn’t just collect misfortune, she collects devil parts. The things that show up physically on your body to prove you made a wish. The things that remain so long as that wish isn’t granted. The physical manifestation of regret for a choice that still has Suruga checking the news every morning to make sure she didn’t do anything during the night without remembering. 
Hachikuji gets people lost because she is lost. Rouka frees people from the regret of doing something because she herself never did anything about the situation she found herself in. It’s why she’s so interested in hearing the stories, along with the devil parts. People who did something she could never do. People who failed and became even more unfortunate than her, thus proving her right. 
She takes the devil parts from people who don’t want them anymore. You can’t run away from something if you really do still want it, but Suruga is well over it at this point. Consider how Suruga deals with the devil’s continued presence in her life. Refusing to run out of fear that someone might be faster than her. She used the arm to pursue Hitagi to the point of destruction, but in equal measure refused to do so, and in doing so was unable to replicate Koyomi’s success. In that sense, when Kaiki says you can’t outrun everything, he’s telling her that it’s okay to lose. It’s okay to try, and then fail. It’s okay to just hand the arm over to Rouka and move on. 
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Higasa remarks that Suruga seems too positive of a person to have heard the Devil-sama rumor - because that’s the type of person Suruga is seen as. Polite, enthusiastic, direct, a star athlete, a hard worker,  a rich kid, a goody two-shoes. The type of person who would take issue with Rouka’s methods. Rouka expects a fight, because in a lot of ways Suruga is Rouka’s opposite, someone who would slap her in the face upon hearing about what she’s doing. 
At the same time, Suruga is the type of person to immediately second-guess that reaction. She lets Rouka’s hand sit on her chest for an uncomfortable length of time (the symbolic gesture associated with taking her devil arm!) because she feels bad about hitting her. Of course she would. She straps her arm to the wall at night because she’s scared of hitting someone again.
In other words, contrary to expectation, she’s the exact type of person that would encounter Rouka. The correct type of person to hear the Devil-sama rumor. The type of person that’s still burdened by the regret of a wish that turned into an obsession. Exactly the type of problem that can be solved, will be solved, simply by doing nothing. 
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I said I still wanted to talk about the arc formula, and here it raises an interesting question of where exactly the specialist comes in. Kaiki, of course, is prominent in this novel - but even though he helps, he hardly explains anything. He has a policy, Rouka tells us, of only sharing half his information. It’s a little like Oshino’s rule of balance, but even less helpful. He shies away from the spotlight out of what I imagine is self-preservation - running away from Koyomi and Hitagi in Karen Bee, blatantly subverting their expectations that he explain Karen’s oddity. He does it anyway, but it’s pointless. The fever disappears on its own. 
Where Meme’s balance is to make sure he doesn’t interfere too much in others’ problems, ensure his surprisingly impressive spiritual abilities don’t create further disturbances in the course of solving them, Kaiki’s balance is to make sure he always has another opportunity to mess with people in the future, to ensure his practical-minded refusal to believe in spirits entirely doesn’t end up biting him in the ass. 
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Even so, we’ve come to expect someone to come and clear things up, explain that which our protagonist was too slow to grasp on their own, put a neat little tie on the end of things. Like Tooe Gaen, perhaps? Deceased but apparently no less of an authority on the supernatural. “The motivation for justice is envy of evil,” we’re told, explaining precisely what left Suruga so unsettled about Rouka. Rouka did what she could never do, just like Suruga did what Rouka couldn’t. 
It’s a nice enough explanation, putting things into the dualistic perspective that Tooe seems to prefer. “If you can’t be medicine, then be poison, otherwise you’re just plain old water.” It doesn’t matter if you help others or hurt others as long as you do something, act in accordance with your nature, don’t let yourself be bound by the restrictions of society or conscience. Those are the type of people she seems most interested in, and the type of person Suruga ought to become as a result of this arc - someone who acts, as opposed to the inactive Rouka. 
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And yet neither her nor Rouka seem to fit into Tooe’s format. Rouka, despite being plain water, is still muddy. A swamp. That mud, composed of everyday misfortune, is nothing nearly so interesting as to be called poison. Suruga is even more confused. A flash-flood, capable of clearing up the dirt that Rouka collected?
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Suruga didn’t envy Rouka because she was evil. The implication there is that Rouka took pleasure in shattering social boundaries that Suruga felt obligated to stick to. But Suruga has already experienced what it’s like to violently pursue one’s own wishes in disregard of the feelings of others. It’s not fun! Suruga is jealous of, if anything, Rouka’s coolness. Her ability to roll with the punches, accept what happened to her with a laugh, shamelessly use her misfortune and pitiability as weapons. 
And Rouka, despite how she presents herself, was quite clearly not evil. Her offered ‘help’ is for entirely self-centered motives, and yet she’s much more concerned with the lives of others than her own. She does act like she doesn’t care about the people asking her for help, but all the same she does redirect those with more serious issues to the correct services. She did say she genuinely wanted to help Hanadori Rouka, the girl she met with the left leg, which is surprising from the perspective of Suruga’s vague animosity towards her, but completely understandable if you just think of Rouka as a normal girl. 
Suruga is neither good nor evil, as Koyomi puts it at the end of the book. She didn’t do the right thing, or the wrong thing. Neither did Rouka. They simply couldn’t look away from one another. Looking away, like running away, is only something you can do if you don’t really want to look. Even if Suruga ran away Rouka would have kept haunting her. She had the qualifications for it. Similarly, I feel like Rouka simply couldn’t look away from people’s misfortune, from the devil parts. Oddities arise for a reason, people have to want them on some level, and perhaps that’s true from the oddity’s side as well.
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Speaking of Koyomi, though, he’s the last to give advice. He encounters Suruga at her lowest point, where she doesn’t know what to do, and quite literally helps her get back on her feet. His specialist qualifications are a bit iffy, but this is a timeskip - he’s in college, he’s more or less overcome his coming of age stuff. The thing is, his advice is to ignore everyone’s advice. For Suruga to act like herself, act on her instincts. To do neither the right thing or the wrong thing. 
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Ironically, characteristically, she takes the advice anyway.
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She’s immediately less unsettled around Rouka, more confident in how she wants to play it. I think about her bluntly stating she’s an exhibitionist. It’s a pervy joke, something that’s been oddly absent in this book so far. One of the things we realise, looking at the world from Suruga’s benefit, is that her perversion, her exhibitionism, frankly even her queerness and interest in BL was much played up for the benefit of Koyomi. At the same time, though, I don’t think that makes it somehow false or an inaccurate representation of herself. She was able to be more overt with these things around Koyomi, because he was accepting of it, and that’s a largely positive thing. 
It’s not a coincidence that her meeting with Koyomi gives her the confidence to be more like that with Rouka, or that this line about exhibitionism actually ties into an important part of her character. You see, right after, Rouka says it must have been tough for her to conceal the devil’s arm. 
I think about the arm as representative of the stigma of queerness, as something that paints her desire for Hitagi as animal and violent (even as it’s capable of finding perfectly healthy expression on the flip side), as something that she has to conceal from others. Recall how in Suruga Monkey her being a lesbian is revealed right after the arm itself, and it’s her sexuality that Koyomi finds the more shocking. 
From that perspective, you could think about Rouka as helping the devil part bearers integrate into society by removing the outward signs of their queerness, their difference. She takes it all on herself, with her oddly dyed hair, baggy tracksuit, put-on limp. She takes it all on herself because she no longer needs to live in normal society. No longer can. 
It kind of explains more of Suruga’s hesitance to let Rouka go. It’s not like she wants to keep the arm. It’s not like it represents the truth of her sexuality in itself. She was gay before the arm and will be after. I think it moreso represents Tooe’s approach to identity and self-change. You can be whatever you want, but becoming is an inherently painful process.
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We’d like to think that Tooe’s message was that you should learn to change yourself rather than relying on suspicious magical artifacts, but the fact that she exposed Suruga to that risk in the first place indicates she’s fine with danger as a teaching device. Fine with her daughter becoming poison. Maybe even fine with her killing someone.
In the end, all the arm does is give her an inferiority complex. Her admiration of Hitagi, her graceful running style, is built on the fact that Suruga herself doesn’t feel she can run like that. She’s faster, but also uglier, more desperate. Her admiration of Koyomi, his self-sacrificing nature, is built on her shame over not being able to help Hitagi more herself. She’s self-effacing, but also uglier, more jealous. 
Suruga is glad to lose the arm, but she still feels uneasy about Rouka getting it. About being saved by someone else. Aren’t people supposed to just go ahead and save themselves? In this one thing, at least, Rouka is a more helpful specialist than even Oshino Meme. 
On that topic, the last person to give Suruga advice is Rouka herself. At the end of their second meeting, Rouka tells her to live a normal life. Do all the things I couldn’t do. She’s a negative example, telling people to not end up like her. Just stay in the closet. This, too, will pass.
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That, kinda sucks though. Integrate into society? Drop all visible signs of your queerness? Get a boyfriend? Rouka’s channeling old tragic yuri tropes for the last time she thinks they’ll ever meet. 
Is that really what Rouka thinks? Does she really envy Suruga’s potential to be normal? To get a job? Because the opposite is precisely what Suruga envies about her - Rouka’s ability to ignore social expectations. The thing is, after their final match, the advice changes again. Who cares about studying for exams? Just start playing basketball again. This is really the only thing I can imagine Rouka envying Suruga for. It’s the path where she gets to make use of her arm again. 
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Saying that basketball is representative of Suruga’s queerness here is even more of a stretch than applying that to her arm, but there’s at least one important respect in which the analogy kinda works. 
The way she wins the game. 
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Basketball is a game for more than one player. The phrasing is a little awkward - ideally it would read “Basketball is a game for two players” to make the comparison to romance even more explicit, but - that isn’t true, is it. So the fact that there are exactly two of them playing becomes a little more significant, I think. 
They have to combine their efforts to get the ball into the hoop. That’s a disingenuous way of putting it, when they’re on opposite sides, but it’s still true. Rouka, after all, couldn’t get it in alone. That wasn’t her aim in the first place. She was just trying not to lose. 
Suruga didn’t just let her lose decisively for the first time, she also let Rouka win. Rouka wasn’t passed to, much, when she used to play. This is the first time she realises that basketball can’t be played alone.
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And, well, when you put it in that sense, basketball isn’t just representative of romance, it’s representative of life in general. When you look back on Rouka’s backstory, at this point, one thing stands out. She never relied on anyone else. She never had anyone to rely on. It’s so bad that she ends up in Suruga’s orbit. The anime opening portrays what it might be like if they had a closer relationship, but that’s something that had to be invented in retrospect, because they really didn’t talk much. They didn’t even properly play against each other much. But when it comes down to it, Rouka is drawn to Suruga’s family inheritance of the devil parts, Suruga’s family inheritance of an annoying conman uncle, and in the end, back to Suruga herself. 
Suruga’s not the only person who ever truly understood her, as you might expect from a school rivalry situation. Suruga is simply the only person in a position where it’s even possible to truly understand her. The only person that could have drawn that final dunk out of her. The only person who could remind Rouka that she really did enjoy basketball, enjoy life.
In doing so, it serves as a reminder to herself, as well. 
Thanks for reading, everyone! Call this the Pride Month special, even though I didn’t discuss the queer themes of this story as much as I would have liked. Next: Otori. Oh boy.
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stardustdiiving · 4 months
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VERY Important meme template I just filled out (blank here!)
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baphofemme · 8 months
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on one hand it's a relief i don't have a fuckton of class work to do this week but on the other i already know my procrastinating ass is playing a dangerous game with such circumstances 😭
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leviathanspain · 6 months
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Hello!! Would you be able to write a request for finnick? Just like he’s the capitols darling, reader is the capitals hound dog. Known to be fiercely protective and exceptionally violent and brutal. During the third quarter quell, katniss’ group is afraid of reader because they haven’t seen her all match, but they run into her and she defends them brutally against something? Sorry I know it’s specific:) love your writing!
my body is a cage
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finnick odair x reader
synopsis: his focus was protecting katniss, but he sleeps with an eye open as long as you’re still out there..
a/n: i made some changes, jus go with it lmao
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“she’s still out there, katniss.” finnick had made this pointedly to katniss, who wanted to go out hunting for the remaining victors with johanna. you were shrouded in mystery, out of all the victors, finnick knew the least about you.
“where would she be?” peeta looked at finnick, who sighed, shrugging, “the arena is different than the arena she won in, i assume somewhere low to the ground-“ finnick sweeped the beach, eye catching on a rustle in the bush, straight across from them, “and close.” he remembered now how you had won your games.
you had tracked all the tributes like prey, manipulating their surroundings to kill them, it had been one of the most invigorating games for the capitol ever. “she’s a bloodhound, probably sniffed us out before we realized.”
johanna watched the area that finnick had saw you, but still offered her commentary, “she’s brutal, katniss.”
katniss looked at them all, surrounded by skilled people yet found herself doubting their abilities, especially her own. none of them were sure they’d win, not against her.
“the careers are the least of our worries with her out there.” peeta noted. finnick looked at him and shrugged, “she might just kill them herself.”
they knew getting back on the island was a bad idea. katniss ducked at the sound of a mysterious voice, feeling as something flew past her head, stabbing cashmere right in the chest.
“get up.” katniss looked up to see you, standing over her. you had an array of weapons on you, and you were reaching for another one. katniss felt the panic in her throat until you launched it at enobaria, who had thrown herself at katniss. “get up!” your voice sounded more frantic and katniss did, struggling from keeping her eyes off of you.
suddenly the island began to spin.
your grip was loosening, and you groaned with slight fear as you felt the cold water thundering against your feet. katniss reached out for you, “grab my hand!” she screamed, but the water trashing drowned her out.
you could see her hand amidst all the water and grabbed it tightly, closing your eyes as the island slowed to a stop.
you sat on the beach, alone as the others argued over you. katniss had defended you, deciding she wanted you as an ally. but finnick and johanna deemed it too risky, “she could kill us all in our sleep, then what?” johanna had made that point as one of your methods, and you inhaled sharply.
finnick glanced at you, noticing the solemn expression on your face. he had known that expression far too many times, and it made him change his mind.
“johanna.” finnick called her name and sighed, “she saved her life. that’s not something we can just ignore, we don’t even know her.”
there was silence between them all, katniss had looked to johanna, watching as she fought internally before giving in. “i’ll go get her, maybe threaten a little.” she stood up, taking her axe with her.
finnick looked to katniss as johanna left, “i’ll keep an eye on her. for you.” he knew that once katniss settled on allies, she settled. her choices weren’t always the best, but somehow it would work itself out.
“why did you save her?” finnick had taken the first watch with you. johanna had convinced him, as just having you as watch would be ‘asking for it’.
you shrugged, “why not.” there hadn’t been much decision making on the island. it was either her or cashmere, and you didn’t see much of a choice.
finnick looked at you, “i don’t believe that.” his eyes slid themselves back to stare at the beach and you scoffed, “and why is that?”
finnick shrugged, “no one would just randomly save someone without an ulterior motive.” he said it like a fact and you smirked, “do you have one?”
“have one what?” he looked confused, obvious by the furrow in his brow.
“do you have an ulterior motive?” you repeated the full length question and watched as finnick practically whipped his head around.
“no.” he stated plainly, and you rolled your eyes, “i saw you saved katniss, similiar to how i did. you and johanna can’t just be doing this,” you glanced back to katniss and peeta sleeping, “for nothing. whatever it is, finnick, is an ulterior motive.” finnick pursed his lips, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.
“i’ll let you have yours if you let me have mine.” you finished, catching his gaze. finnick knew there were layers to you. you were different than most victors, your brutality is what made you like the rest of them, the willingness to kill. but you were turning out to be way more than what meets the eye. whatever your motive was, finnick sensed it wasn’t malice.
finnick settled to watch the sun rise upon your face, ending the conversation with a nod.
finnick watched as you sat by the beach. it had been post jabberjays, you, him and katniss had all been trapped with the birds, fluttering and screaming your names. now it seemed, like you had decided to decompress by the beach, just as he was going to.
he piled up next to you, close but far enough to give you a good amount of space.
it was then that finnick realized you had been crying, tears evident on your cheeks. he had heard katniss yell her sister’s name, and he had heard annie. you had just screamed in response, as if you were trying to drown out the birds with your own voice.
“i’m sorry.” you apologized to finnick, wiping your eyes as he settled down. you sniffled, watching as the waves moved.
“don’t apologize, there’s no need.” finnick spoke, “who did you hear?”
there was silence for a moment, until you spoke, “my best friend.” your mind shuddered back the sound of his screams and you laughed, painfully. “he’s been dead for years. i killed him.” you admitted, “he died because of a mistake i had made during the games.”
your mind flashed back to the games, where you had accidentally launched a knife to his chest, thinking it had been another tribute.
“he had spent all of his games searching for me. and once he found me, i had killed him.” it was cruel for him to be your district partner, for only one would survive, but you “never thought it would be me.” you glanced at finnick, who had been listening.
“it was supposed to be him.” you cried, “i killed everyone else to get to him, and when it was down to four, was when he came to get me.” you shook your head, “there is nothing in this world that i loved more than him, finnick. now that he’s gone, there’s nothing left for me.”
finnick shook his head, “stop. you know that’s not true.” he tried to comfort you, your words mirroring his own thoughts.
“that’s my motive, finnick.” you revealed, “my body is a cage, and i can’t stand to live in it much longer.”
johanna had woken up abruptly. she clutched onto her weapon, eyes glancing around before she settled on the two figures on the beach. she squinted and made out finnick’s hair, and you. the only two missing from the group. you had your head leaned on finnick’s shoulder, as the two of you watched the rising sun.
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1800jjbarnes · 6 months
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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑𝟎: 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟/𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇
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Let Me Help
【Synopsis】 : You didn't know what it meant to be on heat, let alone know you could have one since you weren't a wolf... but here you were, and Bucky was going to help you through it.
『W.C』 : 1.95k 
-> Genre: Smut. Wolf Au. Fantasy Au. Fluff.
Paring: Werewolf!Bucky x Human!Reader
[Warnings] : Swearing. Unprotective sex. Pet names. Neck kisses, hickies. Biting. Cumming inside [don’t do that unless you wan babas] Alpha kink. Knotting. Slight choking. Rough sex. Fluff stuff. Some Omegaverse stuff
Masterlist | Kinktober list
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You were a human. That fell in love with a werewolf and now you’re his mate and live in a den with all his other wolf friends that are also his pack and you are the first human to be mated to one of the wolves in this pack in history. And plus you are now experiencing what they call a heat but you aren’t a wolf and none of the she-wolves or the alchemist knows what to do so you are pacing back and forth in your bathroom waiting for your lover to come home from a full moon cleanse to tell him to help you through something you’ve never been through before….
Missing anything?
“Fuck!” Your hand slipped off the basin in the bathroom, clutching your stomach. You’ve never experienced such a pain before only being able to compare period pains or when you’ve eaten bad food. But the alchemist, Wanda had warned you since you were human the heat would be way more severe to you than a normal she-wolf. Expressing it might feel like being stabbed or disembowelment. Lovely...
You washed your face with ice-cold water multiple times to try and cool the heat rushing through you but nothing was helping. You felt like you were losing your mind and you had no idea what to do, or how to fix it. All you knew was you needed your mate and needed him now.
Maybe a shower would work? But wait... Why were you now standing under the shower head fully clothed? When did you even turn the shower on let alone get in? Your mind was jumping, hazing. Everything was happening so quickly yet standing still at the same time. You cried, sobbing out for Bucky. Crouching down you let the cold water spray on your hunched back as you hug your knees. The headache was bad and the cramps were worse. Your body was shutting down, making you wonder if this heat could kill you if not looked after.
You couldn’t let your mind slip any further, suddenly hearing the bathroom door being slammed open. A large, beefy Bucky came rushing into the shower. He wasn't wearing a shirt, probably not caring to fully dress when he turned back into his human form. His jeans were getting soaked from the water as he bent down to grab your waist, pulling you up to stand on your feet. You wanted to fall back down but his large frame caged you, holding you tightly so you wouldn't slip. His mouth found your neck sucking on just the right spot. You knew from the little research you had done that it would of most likely been the spot where your glands had been if you were a she-wolf and it was also the spot on your neck that he would mark when you get bounded as soulmates.
He had yet to do so, worried it might affect you if he would knot you. So Instead, when he found the urge to mark you when you both were having sex in the past, he would bite the pillow next to you or the couch arm, or even his own hand. Never would he sink his fang in your sweet soft flesh. His lips kiss along your jugular making you whimper. The small bit of pleasure was sending your mind into a spin. He managed to push you against the wall, tugging at your wet clothing to get it off your shaking body. He would kiss your cheeks, then your forehead, then the corner of your mouth. He would whisper just above the sound of the shower, ‘My pretty pup,’ ‘Let me take care of you,’ ‘That’s it baby, just breath.’
He threw the wet fabric out of the shower making it land on the floor somewhere out of sight. He took this moment, to gaze upon your beautiful body. He could smell you dripping down your leg, making him groan. It was enough to feel the tightness in his jeans get worse. He wanted nothing more than to lose control and knot you like he should. But you were human. Such a fragile thing. Not like a she-wolf that could take his strength. But he had no idea that was exactly what you needed at this moment. “James please, help me. It hurts.”
The cramps were becoming worse when not his touch was soothing some of the aches in your joints. You needed him inside you, desperately. “Please, I need you inside…” Fuck… dirty talk was something you rarely did, finding it too embarrassing to do. Bucky on the other hand was born to be filthy. He loved watching you squirm by the sheer motion of his voice telling you what he wanted to do to you. How he was going to defile you.
“Yeah, pup? You need my cock inside your soaking cunt?” he wanted more from you. Picking one of your legs up so he could stand close to you, rubbing his red angry tip along your slit.
“Yes please, fuck…hmm, I need you so badly. Please James.” Your soft whines got his heart reeling, pushing inside you with little effort as your heat soaked your cunt was perfect for him to slip in. He completely bottomed out in a second making you feel so unbelievably full. The ache in your body was gone for a moment, sweet relief was granted to you. But the cramps were soon coming back making you scream “Fuck me Bucky. Please hurry.”
Who was he to deny his mate, thrusting at a slow steady pace. Your hands gripped his wet biceps as the shower head was directly pouring in between both of you. The stimulation of the running water on your clit, helped your high draw closer. Bucky picked up your other leg, smoothing your body against the wall to fuck you at a harsher angle making your head fall back to hit against the tiles.
Your lover's face buried in your neck, licking and sucking on any flesh he could get to. Everything was perfect but you needed just one more thing which Bucky seemed to know, reaching down to press his thumb on your clit making you gasp clamping down on his cock while you came hard. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. Bucky!”
“That’s it pup, come on your mate's cock. Let me feel you come around me.” His voice growled in your ear biting at your ear lobe. He moved backwards slightly letting you wrap your arms around his neck so you could bury your face in his neck this time. You sucked on his rough skin creating your very own mark on his neck. You might not be a wolf but you certainly could still leave your mark.
“I’m coming James please!” You crashed hard, clenching around him. He kept fucking up into you, making your juices squish and squelch around his cock, dripping out onto his legs. But nothing was stopping him. He turn off the shower, needing to fuck you from a different angle.
“Hold onto the sink pup. I’m not done with you yet.” he bent you over the cold sink, making you shiver at the freezing sensation on your sensitive nipples. His cock sunk back into your quivering hole, gifting you a low grumble that ripped through Bucky’s chest. It was almost animalistic, beast-like. His like wolf was taking over. “Fuck sugar, you feel so good. So tight. My perfect pup.”
“Y-hmmm Buck…” Your hips slammed against the counter surely creating indents in your skin that would definitely bruise by the morning. His nails dug into your flesh, making crescent moon shapes while his thrusts got fast as soon approached his edge. Just a little more. Just some more and you had just had perfect timing. “Please Alpha, I need your cum inside me. Please fuck me harder. I want your knot.”
You had no idea where the name came from or why your brain was screaming at you to somehow present for him. To make him know, he could do anything to you. The name slipped off your tongue perfectly and it made his wolf howl. His hips jacked in an inhuman speed, snaking his hand around your throat he growled pooled in your ear. “Alpha hmm? You want your alpha to knot you pup? Mate you? Breed you, fill with his pups?”
Your hand banged against the mirror, smashing a crack into it but not breaking it entirely. Bucky used his hand that was on your hip to cage yours on the said mirror. Linking fingers with you as his thrusts got harder but stuttered through his unstability. “You want my mark sugar? Want to let every other wolf know you’re mine? Fuck just imagining you full and round with my pups makes me want to fuck you all night.”
“Please alpha, Make me yours.” Your cries were music to his ears. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Your his human mate, wanting to be marked, knotted and bred. God, could you get any more perfect.
“It’s okay baby when I’m done, you’ll be leaking my seed for days.” His hand got tighter on your jugular while his lips kissed along your shoulder blades before teasingly nipping at where he would mark you. Everything was so overwhelming, your cramps and all the pain you had felt were washing away being replaced with nothing by Bucky’s scent and touch.
“I’m gonna come, Alpha!” Your choked moans were breathy and short. His hand finally let go of your neck, grasping back on your hip to hold himself up. His fangs grazed your soft skin before he pierced your flesh, letting tears pool on the corners of your tears while he slowed his thrusts to empty his seed deep inside you. you came crashing down soon after. His cock growing, stretching you out, gifting you a new form of pleasure.
“That’s it Pup, deep breath.” He licked your wound, tending to it with extra care while his hand on your hip rubbed circles on your bruising skin. He lifted your left leg up, tilting it towards his body as he sat up straight, turning you around until you could wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. Now facing him, he brushed your hair out of your face, littering you with kisses. You hummed, feeling slumber taking hold of you. “Come on pup. Let’s get you in bed.”
Walking with his cock still inside you was more than uncomfortable and he should have definitely not knot you on the bathroom room counter next time. But as he plopped you on the with him next to you, he helped you cuddle up to him, wrapping you in his scent. “Do you really want my pups…”
“Hmg Fuck sugar…” Bucky had to groan at the fact you didn’t call them kids but pups. Your pups. He suddenly wanted to fuck you again. Maybe when his knot dies down he will but for now, he needs you to rest. “Of course, I want our pups baby. I plan on spending the rest of my life with you.” He kissed you slowly, passionately. Your hand cupped his hand, smiling wide at his low giggles. Your legs wiggled suddenly straddling him. “Come on baby. You need to rest.”
You sat up, drawing circles with your hips. Bucky groaned gripping your waist tightly, bucking his head backwards. “I don’t need to rest. I want more….” You leaned down kissing his cheek before whispering. “Alpha….”
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livingemkayde · 6 months
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between blurred lines
best friend's dad!/dad's best friend!joel miller x f!reader
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(pre-outbreak)
↳ warnings: this is rated for 18+ only! minors, please do not interact. smut, unprotected pinv, fingering f! receiving, cockwarming (!?!?!?) uhh dom!joel, significant age gap, dad's best friend mixed with some best friends dad (?!!?!?!?). i think that's it, let me know if i forgot anything.
↳ a/n: I LOOK PRETTY GOOD FOR A DEAD BITCH (she's alive!). im back from my tumblr break bearing a gift! i missed you all like crazy. gonna spend finals week catching up (procrastinating) on all the reading ive missed out on for the last month. i hope you guys like this one.
AND a very special thanks to @joelsversion for beta reading this in it's very early rough, rough stages. my ride or die fr 🤞
↳ summary: joel miller has always been...there. never different, always sporting a brooding scowl etched into his handsome face. he's your best friend sarah miller's dad, arguably worse, your dad's long time buddy. things are never different. not until this summer. not until now.
↳ follow @livingemkaydenotifs if you would like to be notified about more fics like this. love ya'll big time
↳ if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist
“You shouldn’t be in here.” “No,” you agree breathlessly. “I shouldn’t.” He slots himself against you, his other hand grips your hip and pushes you back into him. You gasp softly.  “Let it go.” You realize he’s talking about your dress. You squeeze your eyes shut. His lips skate against your neck in a way that makes you dip your head to the side in a silent surrender.  “Let it go,” he repeats.
You grew up with Sarah Miller. 
Soccer teams, high school football pep rallies, prom, homecoming, college acceptance season. Even though it turned into long distance facetime calls, and text chains nine messages long once college hit, Sarah Miller will forever and always be your best friend. 
It’s good to be back in Texas. Both you and Sarah moved back into your childhood homes the second after graduation hit. It’s good to be back, good to see her, your parents, and…Joel. 
You hadn’t seen him in a while. The last time you remember spending more than five minutes in his passing presence was when you and Sarah decided on that Chinese place for a post-high school graduation ceremony meal. He’s close with your dad. In an old school kind of way. In a lets raise our kids together kind of way and a the wives can go shopping together kind of way — before Sarah’s mom split, that is. 
Joel Miller, always brooding, always gruff and quiet. He’s never different. Though, you can’t help but think things might be different now—
No. You almost have to remind yourself out loud. He’s not different. He never is. He’s Joel Miller and you’re — you’re just a kid. You’re as old as his kid. 
Sarah, despite your hardened efforts, managed to drag you out of bed and into the shortest dress you own for a night at some club halfway across town. 
“Sarah, are the shot glasses still in the top cabinet?”
You reach for the knob, barely getting onto the balls of your feet before slipping on the cold laminate tiles in the kitchen. Your open palm balls into a fist and makes the cabinets shutter. Sarah responds with something from her room equally as unintelligible as your question was to her. You can feel your dress starting to ride up a little in your efforts, but you rifle through the Miller’s cabinets like it’s your own home. In some ways it is. 
“Hey, kid.”
You spin around, and quickly shuffle the hem of your dress back down. He nods his head in a lazy greeting. 
“Hey.” You’re breathless for some reason. It’s not because of the shot glasses. 
“Been a while,” Joel says, shuffling into the kitchen and setting a mug in the sink. He looks the same. Tousled hair and a beard just beginning to tinge gray. He’s always — always the same. 
You clear your throat. “Yeah. Been a while.” 
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” 
“Good to have you back,” he mumbles, settling back against the kitchen counter. You can see his arms flex when his palms settle onto the countertop. He’s strong, so much bigger than you. You never really noticed the big broadness of him until now. You’re not used to guys like him. All the boys you ever really experienced were clean shaven, soft in a way that told you they’ve never hauled ass through a day’s work. A lifetime of work. 
“Good to be back.” He clocks your outfit. You try to change the subject. “How are things?”
“Same ol’ same ol’.” He grabs a beer from the fridge. “Your dad’s gettin’ into golf. Tryna make me go out with him.” 
You laugh. “Not your scene?” 
“No, not quite.” He shakes his head, sipping on his beer with a smirk that almost makes your knees weak. “What’d you study again?” 
You scoff playfully. “Like you remembered in the first place.”
“Play along.” He smirks.
A knot sticks to your stomach, just below your navel. His voice is sickly sweet. Syrupy and Texan. His voice is like medicine. 
“Education. Just applied for jobs in the fall.”
“You teachin’?” 
“That’s the plan,” you let out with a breathless kind of laugh. 
“Smart girl.” 
His head cocks, and tilts it to the side. Your breath catches in your throat, palms sweaty against the black fabric of your dress. “Hardly.” 
He pauses, eyes you. It’s fleeting—you might think you dream it. You pick at the skin of your own thumb. 
“Your dad know you’re goin’ out?” 
You scoff. “I’m an adult. Don’t need my dad’s permission.”
“Don’t be a smart ass.” 
You eye him, a smirk plays on his lips. 
“I’m not—just…grown up, I guess.”
Something unreadable spreads across his face. “I guess.”
You hitch a tough breath. 
“What’d you need?” He swigs at his beer. 
“Oh.” You look back towards the cabinets, then. “Shot glasses.” 
“Moved ‘em,” he nods and stalks forward, backing you against the counter. He’s got a dark swirl of something warming behind his gaze. You don’t try to scoot away. Even when he reaches up next to your head and you hear the clink of two shot glasses brush up against each other in his fingers. 
“Don’t have too much fun,” he whispers while he pushes the glasses into your hands and leaves the kitchen.
__
You desperately, for your life, cannot keep up with Sarah Miller. 
She drinks entirely too quickly, efficiently, and practiced for your poor alcohol tolerance to keep up with. She’s a machine, and after three shots in, you’re already wasted. It wasn’t even midnight when your vision started to pull in a sideways direction and everything seemed a little slow. You knew things were taking a turn for the worst when the blonde quaffed frat guy with a Texas A&M polo shirt started sounding a little too funny. He was glued to your hip the entire night, though you aren’t sure you even remember his name correctly. You have your bets set on Colter, but then again, after your second shot, everything started to sound a little fuzzy to your rosied ears. 
And when Colter called you and Sarah an Uber at three a.m., you didn’t have the guts to ask him his name, only shooting him a half hearted thanks over your shoulder—your liquid courage having sobered up by the time the Uber rounded the corner to the Miller’s house. 
Even though Sarah Miller can throw back shots like it’s her day job, she passed out onto her bed as quickly as you both left her childhood bedroom while running late for your driver to the club. 
Before she promptly fell asleep, she mumbled something almost unintelligible into the pink sheets of her twin sized bed. But you could make it out enough to spring back from her words while your heart skipped a beat. 
“Get a shirt from my dads room.” 
So you knock, quietly, almost too quietly, and when you rap your knuckles against the wood of Joel Miller’s bedroom door a little harder, it pushes open slightly. The crack of it floods black, you can’t see inside, only the dim night sky illuminating the window sill and curtains in its wake.
When you push it open a little further, the door creaks so loud you push your eyebrows together with worry and freeze in your timely steps. But it’s empty. The bed isn’t entirely made, the covers a little rumpled and haphazard. You spot his dresser and make a quick beeline for it, itching to get out of your uncomfortable dress. 
The drawer slides open with a shift of wood on wood and you snatch up the first black t-shirt you find sitting neatly on top of the pile. Subconsciously, you bring it to your nose—sunlight, and evergreens, and a little hint of musk that peaks through the laundry detergent. The worn, soft cotton of it makes you sigh deep into the dark bedroom. You close your eyes, ball your fist up around the collar and lean into the dresser with your palm fitting against the edge of wood. Just as you turn around and move to close the drawer in your exit, a voice pulls your eyes up from the darkness. 
“What’re you doin’?”
You jump, almost instinctively bringing his shirt to your chest. A sinking, uneasy feeling settles right under your throat. It’s almost like you’ve been caught red handed—you most definitely were. 
You don’t say anything. The light pouring in from the hallway surely illuminates you enough. Joel’s eyes trail down to your bare legs, then to his shirt you have clutched in your hands. 
“That my shirt?” He points to your chest with a vague gesture of his hands. You look down at the material balled up in between your shaky fingers, then back to his eyes.
“I don’t—” You shake your head even though you know your efforts are fruitless. The least you can do is tell the truth. 
“Sarah—she’s—she’s sleeping. Told me to get clothes in here.” You make a slight nod of your head towards his open dresser. He doesn’t say anything, but he takes a step towards you. 
“Sorry, I can just—” You point towards the door behind him, and move to leave. 
“‘S fine,” he mumbles in that deepened, soaked drawl. All honey, and velvet, wrapping you up into something warm and inviting. It tugs at something just beneath your belly. 
When he gets closer, your breath punches out in a staggered rise and fall of your chest. Your fingers don’t move from clutching his shirt. When he nears, he slips a hand past you, brushing your waist, and shuts the drawer closed with a soft thunk. 
Your breath catches in your throat, his eyes trail your figure. 
“Fun night?” 
You clear your throat, nod, slowly, still studying his darkened gaze. “Yeah.”
You clock how close he is when you put your weight on one hip and his jeans brush up against your bare thigh. His breath swirls on your eyelashes. He tugs on his shirt in your hands and lets out a hearty sigh. Shifting from one foot to the other, then again. It seems like you both stay like that for years. 
Brown. His eyes are brown—maybe a little darker than they normally are. His eyes try not to roam, but that hint of something is gone before you can blink. 
He backs away then, towards the door. Most likely seeing you out. He settles near the entrance and looks back at you. Your bare feet shuffle through the carpet. He nudges the door open with a rough palm on the doorknob, leaning against the frame as you approach. 
You’re about to leave, but he catches your elbow, and you spin back to him in a desperate kind of way. 
“You look pretty,” he whispers to your surprise. “Forgot t’mention it earlier.” 
Pretty. 
He thinks you’re pretty. You didn’t even think pretty was in his vocabulary. 
You didn’t think he would notice. 
You don’t say anything. Your eyebrows furrow with want. You study him, eye his brown stare and the way his chest rises and falls under the navy blue t-shirt he’s wearing. And you slowly—slowly push the door shut. You both watch it close. It clicks, the sound of it deafening to your ears. 
He would never, ever make the first move. You’re smart enough to know that for certain, but—pretty. He thinks you’re pretty, and after all this time, it’s still always Joel. 
So you turn your back to him, swipe your hair over one shoulder and turn your head to the side. You can hear him silently swear under his breath. 
“You mind?” you say, gesturing to the zipper of your dress. His soft steps pads on the floor. You can almost feel his chest against your shoulder blades. 
His fingers toy with the zipper, hot and rough but—hesitant. He pulls it down slowly anyways, exposing your back to the crisp air conditioned air, and the heat of his gaze. The straps fall as the zipper does, he curses again, succumbing to your decided fate. 
You hold the front of your dress to your body on instinct, even though the only thing you want to do right now involves him ripping it off you. 
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t do anything else—doesn’t back away or come closer or leave. So you reach your hand backward to find him and gasp softly when his fingers tangle with yours. You pull his hand to your body. He locks onto your waist like a leech. 
“What’re you doin’?” He rasps against the shell of your ear, almost like he’s pleading with you. He sounds like he’s in pain. Maybe he’s torn between pleasure and good judgment. You want him to forget about the latter entirely. 
Your stomach drops, you glance to the side again. 
“I thought—” 
“You thought, what?”
Your face goes hot, stare at your feet instead. His hand doesn’t leave you. 
“I don’t…” 
“You thought this was a good idea?” 
You don’t say anything. For some reason you didn’t think it was a bad idea. Not when his hand reaches around to grab your hip.
“What would your daddy think?” 
“I don’t really care what he thinks.” An admission more than anything. 
He sucks in a breath. A quiet contemplation. The look on his face doesn't read pissed, but it's a far cry from happy. You don't know what is behind his gaze.
“Nothin’ but trouble.” He breathes out in a heavy sigh. “Ain’t ya?”
His voice is so much deeper now. His accent shows through, silken and so southern it makes you grip your dress a little harder on instinct. You’ve lost count of how many times your breath has gotten caught up in the tightness of your throat. 
“‘S one word for it.” 
He almost growls, his hand skits down to the hem of your dress and pushes his fingers under it, trailing upward, but stopping before he meets lace. 
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
“No,” you agree breathlessly. “I shouldn’t.”
He slots himself against you, his other hand grips your hip and pushes you back into him. You gasp softly. 
“Let it go.” You realize he’s talking about your dress. You squeeze your eyes shut. His lips skate against your neck in a way that makes you dip your head to the side in a silent surrender. 
“Let it go,” he repeats. 
You drop the hand on your chest and his t-shirt with it. Your dress falls to the floor in a black blanket of smoke. You gasp when his hands are on you, inching slowly from the hem of your underwear to grasp your breast in a rough, teasing palm. 
A small sound escapes past your lips. His other hand, quick to respond, slots over your mouth, silencing you and your whiny moans. 
It’s — rough. The way he pushes his palm into your face to quiet your whimpering, forcing your head back to rest against his shoulder. The way he pushes your underwear down your thighs to rest with his forgotten t-shirt, and your all too tight, too short dress. It’s rough, but so, so gentle. 
It feels like heaven. 
You pitch your back, arching into him in a desperate way. Writhing against him when he finally pushes a calloused finger in between your dripping folds. 
“Jesus.” He shakes his head. You can feel the scratch of his beard against your temple. You wonder what that scruff might feel like between your thighs. “Been wantin’ it all night, huh?”
It’s a question, but not one he needs an answer to. The mess between your thighs is evidence enough. 
Joel. You try to plead, but he’s relentless in his quieting attempts. The pad of his finger brushes against your clit and you’re keening against him. You can feel him smile. 
“Quiet,” he whispers into your ear, then lifts his hand from your mouth, hovering, waiting until the inevitable moan to escape past your lips. But you try your hardest, bite at the skin on the inside of your lip, and he rewards you. He’s a gentleman like that. He sinks his middle finger into your cunt, rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit with his thumb. Everything about him is just so, just right. 
Maybe, usually, with other guys, you’d be disappointed if they’re stingy with the foreplay. But you walked throughout the bar all night with slick dripping through soaked lace just at his words in the kitchen. Smart girl. So you push back into him and beg him—
“Joel.” You’re breathless. You plead at him with your body, with everything you have. “Please,” you whisper simply. 
Something like desperation and want and a little twinge of anxiety settles in your stomach when he releases you. He walks you back to the edge of the bed. It smells like him when you lay down and the softness of the blankets kiss the edges of your face. You can hear the clink of his belt buckle and you suck in a tiny breath.
“How do you want it, baby?” 
You push him back, and his eyes go wide. It’s the first reaction you’ve gotten out of him the whole night. A peak behind his brooding mask. And when you settle each leg on either side of his hips, he groans. It makes you a little more brave. 
“Like this,” you whisper, placing your hands on his chest. He grabs at your wrists, and pushes them under his wide palm to his stomach so you lean forward down to him. He pushes his boxers down and you try not to look, but you make a small sound at the sight. 
“Look good—” he grunts. You take his tip and notch it at your entrance. “Always look so pretty.” 
Your heart pounds in your chest. Everything is different. Everything is new. 
Pretty. 
“Fuck,” you whisper, glancing down at just the sight of him. The size of him. 
“You’re okay, angel.” 
Your gaze snaps to his face. He nods. You believe him. 
“I—ah—” you whimper. “I can take it.” 
“I know you can,” he grunts when you sink down an inch and take the tip of him. Your hips cant at the feeling, taking more of him through groans and pressing whines. He lets you set the pace. Let's you take your time. Even when he’s panting through his gritted teeth and tight lips. 
You sink down on him until there’s nothing left to take. It’s almost painful. But he’s right there, playing with the pearl of your clit, massaging your hips. He knows how much you can take and when you can take it. He seems to know alot about you while knowing very little. 
“Shit,” you groan. “Oh my — god.”
You can hear him muttering something along the lines of perfect. 
It feels that way—perfect. He fits inside you with a tight stretch but nothing compares to the feeling of his throbbing length resting inside you. You would die here with your wanton moans and you would wake to find nothing less. 
“Joel,” you whine, clenching around him, the stretch starts to sweeten. 
“That’s—fuck—yeah, good girl,” he whispers. He sounds like something sweet and dark and rough. You fist at his t-shirt. Just like the one left forgotten by the door. You don’t remember what you came in here for anymore. Not when you’re dangerously close from his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. 
“Fuck. Yeah?” He can feel it. From the inside. “Y’gonna come, baby?” 
It’s embarrassing. That you could come like this, with him waiting patiently inside you. You don’t have it in you to lie, you don’t have it in you to bounce up and down or move at all. He turned your legs to jello. 
“I-I don’t—” 
“C’mon,” he grunts and grips your hips to keep him flush to your body. “Know ya want it.”
It only takes one swift rock of your hips. His hands, broad and sprawled out across the plushness of your sides. Your body stalls out on top of him. He sits up to wrap his arms around you and brings you close on instinct. If your brain wasn’t so hazy and you weren’t so lightheaded your heart might swell at the thought. You bite out something sounding somewhat like his name—it’s a garbled whisper and cut of words but you think he gets the gist. 
“I—Ngh—fuck,” he whispers into the crown of your hair. You can feel him throbbing inside you. You chuckle something halfway coherent and let him flip you over, settled on your stomach with your face in the sheets. His fingers skip over your backside. 
“Joel,” you breathe. “I—” 
“Relax,” he says behind you, spreading your folds and staring at the way your cunt clenches around nothing. “Just relax, angel.” 
So you do, you sink boneless into the mattress and let him press you down into the sheets. He feels so broad. He feels so good. You tell him quite as much, in not so many words. You feel the weight of him settle behind you, his hand coming up to brace himself by your head. 
“God, you feel so fuckin’ good.” He sinks in, inch by inch. It’s not so much of a stretch anymore. Carving a place for himself inside you. It feels like he belongs there. You think to yourself that he probably does. You’re squirming beneath him, wringing your fists in dark blue sheets. 
You clamp your eyes shut when he bottoms out. Even more so when he finds a pace he likes and sets it. You don’t have to beg him anymore. Your legs shake beneath his hips, even more so when he hikes your leg up on the bed so he can push deeper. 
Something deep rolls through you again. It shocks you. Most of the guys you’ve been with haven’t made you come once, let alone twice. 
“I can’t—” you whine. “I—fuck.” 
He picks up the pace. 
“Y’can,” he grunts. “Know y’can, c’mon, baby.” 
You nuzzle your face in cotton. His hips chase his release and you know you’re close when he nudges against your g-spot.
“Don’t stop,” you whine. “Please don’t fucking stop, Joel, please, it—ah."
When you come, he grunts through ragged breaths. White hot pools in your stomach and you whine so loudly you’re worried about the neighbors. His hand comes to brace against the back of your neck. You’re so fucking soaked he slides through you easily. 
“Jesus, fuck,” he growls. He bears down on you and your hips and sinks to his elbows when he can’t keep himself up anymore. You feel the cotton of his t-shirt brush against your back. It sends a shiver up your spine. He comes, pulling out and spilling over your back. You try to hide your disappointment. 
He lays beside you for a minute, you barely reach your hand up from the bedsheets to brush against his bicep. He studies your face and pants through a slack jaw. He’s scruffy and broad and — perfect. 
Your gaze flick to his mouth, then his eyes. You silently realize he never kissed you. 
“Gonna get me killed,” he whispers. It’s almost weirdly affectionate in a way only Joel Miller could say. Still stuck in a limbo between pleasure and reality. You smile, softly. 
He climbs off you, and slinks to the bathroom. You wait with baited breath until you hear the water run. He emerges with a soft looking towel, damp with water, clinging to his fingers. You watch him and shiver when the towel touches your back. 
“Okay?” he whispers when you sit up and turn to look at him. 
“Yeah, okay.” 
It feels like something is supposed to happen now. You’re not used to this. Everything slowly comes back as the pleasure ebbs and you blink back to reality. You open your mouth, then close it. He does the same. 
You can hear Sarah’s door open and you both freeze. His brown eyes search yours through a furrowed brow. Your heart goes back into normal rhythm when you hear the bathroom door shut. Then nothing. 
He snags a new shirt from his dresser and tugs it over your body. 
The Texans. 
“Cute,” you gesture to the shirt. It’s soft underneath your fingers, worn. A gentle kind of faded navy blue. Joel picks up your dress off the floor and folds it into your chest while scoffing. 
“Shut up,” He shakes his head, but he can’t hide the smirk on his face. “Get outta here.” 
It’s all oddly playful. Like you both can’t believe it and are giddy at that fact.  
“Same time next week?” 
Something deeper flicks across his gaze at the doorway. “Is that a promise?” 
“You can’t answer a question with another question.” 
You turn when you leave the doorway and settle into the hallway. He’s got his hand on the doorframe, leaning into it—towering over you and already burning something hot through you. Again. 
“I just did,” he grumbles with a smug look, and then shuts the door. 
__
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conelluwrites · 2 months
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the red means i love you
Reader/Doppelgänger Francis (main focus on the doppelgänger aspect) (reader goes by she/her and is described with vaginal terms)
posted on my AO3
word count: 2.6k
title from The Red Means I Love You by Madds Buckley
Contains: monster fucking (doppelgänger fucking), headcanon design for non-disguised doppels, barbed dick, breeding, and blood drinking
You let the wrong one in, but maybe it's not as bad as it seems when you invite him back to your apartment.
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“Mmm…”  The voice sounds uncanny, too similar to Francis with the slightest hint of a purr that the tired milkman would never express, “I’m rather thankful that you let me in earlier, you know?”  His uniform is clean and tidy, well put together in a way that Francis would never be able to achieve due to his early morning risings.  His hair is just barely out of place.  Things that no one would notice-- things that make her wish that she had called Francis’ apartment to see if he was home.
“W-Wha-!”  The doorman stumbles back in fear, causing her to bump her back into the chest of the doppelgänger who all too readily wraps his arms around her waist.  One of his hands trails down her rigid arm and grabs the hand of hers that is trembling its way towards the phone.  Even if he didn’t intervene, the D.D.D. would not arrive in time to prevent any damages, he was in the safety room.  His fingertips are inhuman, too sharp but not yet undisguised, as they intertwine with her own to prevent her from dialing the number she memorized so easily.
“Shhh, shhh…  There’s no reason for you to be afraid.”  He coos, brushing his nose against the exposed flesh of her neck.  “No need to scream, no need to squirm, no need to put up a fight…”  His voice is velvety but now lacks the tiredness the real Francis carries.  It’s not surprising that he’s giving up his disguise piece by piece, she assumes that it must take some level of effort to be so near-perfectly disguised and she knows at this point she’s utterly fucked.  “I could take you away from this annoying position forever if you want.  No pesky D.D.D. agents, no more anxiety from our kind, no more living in fear.  Sounds pretty nice, hm?”  His free hand goes to hold her chin, his sharp thumb slightly digging into her jawline.
“But I gotta protect my neighbors.  My job-- sitting here and looking at everyone and their documents, it might suck at times but it keeps everyone safe.”  She says, her voice trembling.  Her throat is bone dry from fear, her chest aches from the uneven breathing leaving her slightly open lips.
“Oh, my dear, that’s such a noble sentiment.”  The doppelgänger sighs dramatically before shaking his head.  He spins her around in his grasp, the hand that was holding hers goes to her waist.  His fingers trace along her jawline, making sure to keep a gentle, but firm, grip on her so she cannot try to escape.  There’s a bright grin on his face, his teeth too white to be human.  “But how many times have they let you down?  Surely they have failed you before.  People are fickle creatures; they don’t appreciate what they have until it’s gone.  I promise to protect you, sweetheart, just let me stay with you tonight, hm?”
Her mind races, so many thoughts of her own death and the death of her neighbors.  “How do I know you won’t hurt me?”  The answer is obvious-- if the doppel were going to hurt her, he already would have.  He’s stronger than her, stronger than any human and she’s still in his grasp.  If he wanted to maim her, he would have already.  “You doppelgängers just want to kill and eat us.”
“Ah, you misunderstand me, darling!  I could never harm a hair on your lovely head.”  The doppelgänger earnestly insists.  His thumb brushes gently across her cheek, trying to so lovingly convince her.  “All I want is to hear more stories about your day and listen to those sweet little fears of yours…  And yes, perhaps indulge myself in some delicious blood as well.”  He’s whispering intimately, as if they’re a pair of lovers.  The grip on her waist tightens slightly but remains mostly gentle, it’s almost comforting despite the sharp nails against her shirt.  “C’mon… please trust me.”
“But I-”  her voice dies out the longer she allows herself to fall into the illusion of mutual trust.
“It’s okay, my love,” he murmurs understandingly, “don’t overthink things, hm?”  He kisses her temple tenderly, a perfect imitation of love between humans.  His eyes flicker towards the phone, allowing even himself to dream of a different world where he could whisk her away and keep her all to himself.  “Let’s just go for now, let’s go somewhere private where no one can bother us.”
She relents easily, tearing her gaze from his face and allowing it to travel down the white uniform before making its way back up to his face.  “My apartment is on the first floor.  We… We can go there together.  We don’t have to worry about others seeing us, everyone else is in for the night.”
Francis’ grin grows even more, his canines growing sharper than any humans can be naturally, “That sounds perfect.”  He sounds appreciative, leading him gently to the door to exit the safety room.  The walk to the apartment is short.  As the apartment door closes, the intensity changes slightly; he is watching her carefully while also taking the new space.  “Nice place.  So cozy…”
“Thank you….” She murmurs. “I figured it’s safer for you to be here than anywhere else in the complex.”
Francis’ doppelgänger hums thoughtfully before nodding in agreement.  After the brief exchange, he takes the opportunity to explore the small apartment, touching things lightly as if trying to understand their purpose and history though touch alone.  Every movement exudes confidence in his decision-making process, evaluating the potential of each object.  “You’re so brave, you know.  C’mere.”
She walks over to him hesitantly and stands there.  The doppelgänger is taller than her.  Despite it all, since he’s imitating one of her neighbors that she’s rather fond of, she feels herself relaxing.  He wraps an arm around her waist casually, pulling her close while leaning down until their hands nearly touch.  He inhales deeply, enjoying the warmth that a human being brings.  He drawings circles on his back with his free hand.  He continues to lean down slowly -- closer and closer to her neck.  Her breath hitches as his nose finally meets her neck.  Her hands meet his waist and tighten slightly, crinkling his shirt.  Adrenaline is racing through her body, making her tremble slightly but she refuses to pull away.  The way the doppelgänger rubes and nuzzles his nose into the crook of her neck is the sweetest thing she’s experienced recently.
The doppelgänger lets out a satisfied rumble, savoring the sensation of her trembling beneath his touch.  If anyone saw them now, they’d assume it was two lovers locked in passion.  His lips brush against the skin he finds lightly before he stops abruptly.  “Promise me something -- promise that you won’t run away.”
“...”  She considers his words carefully.  Every primal instinct in her is begging her to run, to get away as fast as she can.  But she hasn't and, to be honest to herself, she doesn’t want to.  She’s rather content staying like this, being in his arms with his face buried in her neck.  She know he could bite her, sink sharp teeth in her neck and finish her life in less than a second, but she finds herself trusting that he won’t.  “ I promise.”
“Good girl.”  He praises softly, finally giving into temptation and pressing his teeth gently against her neck.  Not hard enough to yet draw blood, just merely teasing her.  His arm tightens around her as the gravity of her promise fully settles between the pair.  The danger she’s in never fully dissipates but mixes well with the affection he’s showing her.  “You deserve a reward for trusting me.”
“Oh?  Like what?” She asks, her grip on him loosening as her body adapts to the unfamiliar situation.
Francis’ doppelgänger chuckles, the vibrations tickling her neck.  “Don’t fret, just something that will make us both happy.”  With a groan, he allows his disguise to slip further and further, his teeth sharpening.  They puncture her skin ever so slightly, blood trickles immediately out of the small wounds.  With a satisfied hum, he pulls away and licks his lips, allowing blood to pool.  “Just relax, enjoy this moment.”  She struggles out a broken moan; it’s not necessarily painful but it reminds her of how weak and vulnerable she is in the moment, a feeling that is intoxicating.  “Relax.” he murmurs against her skin soothingly.  There was no aggression or hunger driving him, it was just to provide nutrients for him to continue his time with her.  Slowly yet deliberately, he licks up the collected droplets while sucking lightly on the wound.  He alternates between suckling and licking the wounds, moaning.
“Y’gonna leave a hickey on me.” She sighs out, her body relaxing even further.
“Only for me to look at later.”  He promises, his breath hot on her dampened flesh.  The rhythm slows down until it stops altogether and he pulls away.  Slowly and carefully, he raises his gaze to meet hers.  “Now tell me more about those annoying D.D.D. agents.”
“I don’t know much about them, to be honest.  They don’t hang around after the cleaning procedure and they don’t talk to me aside from congratulating me on living another way.”  She says, swiping a bit of her own blood from his lips with his thumb.
“You should know more than that.”  He growls. “We could use your help some day.”
“We?  You want me to help the doppelgängers?”
“Of course.  Someone like you, someone so skilled at calling us out…  You could be helpful in our cause.”
“I don’t believe that’s such a worthy cause…” She murmurs, resting her head against his chest.  His heartbeat is inhuman, too slow to be human, but it’s relaxing.  “Though…”
“Though?  You would be safe -- you’d be part of our family.  Perhaps one day I could introduce you to some of the ones I’m closest to.”
“Mm.”  She weighs his words carefully.  In a disturbing, unacceptable way, it’s almost sweet.  “I suppose that, as long as I’m protected by you, I’d be honored to meet them.  Does that make us mates?”
“Indeed.”  Silence stretches between them for a moment.  “In our world, we share souls upon consummation.”  He stares into her eyes after the statement, gauging her reaction based on his customs.
“Ah, like marriages for humans then?  Do you want to consummate our bond?”
The doppelgänger stiffens slightly at first before relaxing.  “Yes.  But we must proceed cautiously.”
“Why’s that, my love?  Is your genitalia that different?”  She asks, leaning up to nuzzle her nose against his for a moment before pulling away and going to stroke his cheek softly.  The skin is rubbery and like ice against her fingers.
“Hm…  No, not quite.”  There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence, he allows her mind to wander with possibilities.  “Our release is also quite different, I believe.  Is that okay?”
She’s quiet for a moment, allowing herself time to fully comprehend the possibilities ahead of her. “Yes.  I want to be your mate, so please…  mate with me the way doppelgängers do.”  Francis’ doppelgänger feels a surge of triumph.  The transformation starts gradually as he allows himself to rip through his disguise.  The clothes rip and tatter, falling to the ground around him as she lets him go, allowing him to fully transform.  Glistening black scales peek through skin like moonlight reflecting off ocean waves, his fingers grow out to sharp daggers, his arms and legs elongate as his muscles tense.  His teeth barely fit in his mouth, the sharp points poking slightly over his lips.  His cock is impossibly thick and long, tiny barbs lining the sides as it oozes black pre-cum.  He lifts her effortlessly, his hands on her ass as he carries her to her bedroom and places her gently on the bed.
“Lie back.”  He commands quietly, watching every breath he takes with anticipation and hunger.  She lays back, obediently as he hovers over her patiently.  There’s no shame or hesitation in his gaze as his hand travels up her shirt to lift it over her head.  She tugs off her pants, leaving her in her bra and panties.  His gaze is full of pride.  “You’re mine now, my soulmate.”
“You’re perfect.”  She says softly, cupping his face and kissing his monstrous face lovingly.  Her lips meet his rough lips and pointed teeth.  She winces preemptively as his sharp claws make easy work of her panties, tugging on the fabric until it tears away and reveals her glistening sex.  The thick, black sludge lubricates his cock, making it ease into her cunt slowly and easily despite its grand size.  She feels the tiny barbs grow slightly, just enough to dig into her walls to prevent her from squirming away or resisting.
He hisses appreciatively at the compliment and the feeling of her heat enveloping her slowly.  “You’re tight.”  He grunts out raggedly, thrusting deep.  The sensation matches beast-like intensity, every movement echoing throughout the small bedroom.
“Hah, you’re bigger than I expected.  So fuckin’ thick.” She pants out, her cunt swallowing his cock with little resistance.  “I was scared about the bars, but shit…  your cock is so perfect for me.”  The doppelgänger lets out an animalistic moan at her declaration, his thrusts becoming more aggressive and intense.
“That’s it!  Take everything I got!”  He exclaims hoarsely, nails digging into her hips.  “Answer me, would you want children?”  He gasps urgently.  Despite the heaviness of the question he posed, he keeps pushing relentlessly -- seeking assured release.
“I-I-!  Yes!  I want to swell with your young.”  She says lovingly, moaning.
He roars at his words, bowing low to catch her lips.  The kiss is filled with dominance and ownership.  “Perfect.”  He growls into her mouth, shifting positions easily so she’s on top of him.  “Ride me until we’re done.”
She straddles him easing, wincing as the shift in positioning digs his barbs deep into her cunt.  “Fuck, baby…”  She breathes out, her hands on his chest.  Her hips raise up and down rapidly despite her legs trembling greatly.
“Let me see those pretty eyes looking into mine.”  He orders hoarsely.  He hisses as her cunt adjusts.  The pain she felt was only temporary, but served its purpose well: reminding her whose body she was riding, a dangerous creature holding immense power over her.  His own gaze burned with need and desperation, pleading silently for satisfaction.  
She looks into his eyes obediently, so full of adoration for the monster.  “I-I-...”  Her breath hitches, she can’t finish her sentence.  She’s too embarrassed to admit her love for him.  Instead, she leans down to kiss him.  Her soft lips meeting his rough, uneven ones.
“Say it.  Tell me how much we mean to each other.”  He demands huskily.  His barbs grow slightly more, haling her movements for a single second.  It’s a sign of his nearing climax that’s mirrored by her frantic movements once she adjusts to the growth.
“I love you, fuck, I love you!”  She moans loudly.  Her cunt begins to quiver and massage his cock.  “Cum in me, cum in me, cum in me.”  She whimpers as his barbs dig in even more as her tight walls convulse around him.  Suddenly she can feel a torrent of his dark, murky cum release deep into her cunt.  His cock swells greatly, making her gasp and cum around him.  Her slick dribbles down his cock and coats him.  Her body slowly relaxes as his barbs retract but he remains swollen.  She lays limp against him, breathing heavily.
He roars hoarsely, pumping several times harder with his thickened cock.  He remains still, breathing heavily with his arms tight around her as he lays on his side, holding her tight to his chest.  It’ll take several minutes for his cock to decrease in size, but it’s unlikely that either of the two will be awake.  “Our bond is sealed.”  He rasps against her ear, nuzzling gently against sensitive skin.
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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 3)
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Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?
Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.
Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!
(Prologue and Ch. 1) // (Ch. 2)
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“I like the lilac, but I just wonder if the lavender would’ve gone better with your complexion,” your mom said as she eyed you critically. You were standing on a pedestal in the middle of Sally’s Dress Shop, trying on the bridesmaids dress your mom had picked out for you to wear to her wedding. The dress was far too frilly and pastel for your taste, but if wearing it would please your mom and make this week move faster, it was worth it.
“I think this is fine, mom,” you were trying your hardest to keep your tone polite, determined to keep this outing from turning into a fight. After all, it was your mom’s wedding week, and despite all of the history between you, you really did want her to be happy. 
By the time you had returned to the table last night, your mom had already paid the bill. The three of you drove home in silence, your mom giving you her patented silent treatment. This morning when you came downstairs dressed and ready for your fitting, she simply started talking about the flower arrangements for the reception, like the night before had never happened.
“I think you chose well,” you said before your mom could change her mind on the dress again. You’re lying through your teeth, you think this dress might be one of the worst choices she's ever made, but the satisfied smile on her face makes your discomfort worth it. 
“Do a spin for me,” she asks for the tenth time today. When you roll your eyes she pouts and says, “please?”
You smile and twirl for her again, giggling when you nearly lose your footing and fall off the pedestal, grabbing your mom’s shoulder for support. Your mom laughed too, and you realized you couldn’t remember the last time the two of you laughed together. It was nice.
Rafe has been avoiding going downtown as much as possible these days, keeping his outings to the Island Club and having his friends come to him if they want to party. Even though his dad had officially taken the fall for everything, he knew people still whispered about him as he walked by. I heard he was there. I heard he did it. They say his fingerprints were on the bullets.
Today, however, he had a meeting with a potential buyer of some of the melted gold, a jeweler on main street. He slid on his sunglasses and locked his car, trying desperately to act like today was just business as usual, like he hadn’t just put a hit on his own father.
He walked quickly from his truck toward the jeweler’s store front, but stopped in his tracks as he passed Sally’s. There you were, behind the glass, spinning in a puffy purple dress, before nearly falling on your ass. He cursed himself for the way he flinched, as if he could reach out and catch you through the window. Why was it still his instinct to catch you? 
Two Years Earlier…
“Rafe!” You squealed as he pulled you through the side door of the ballroom into the dimly lit alley. “They were playing my song!”
“That’s why I had to get you outta there,” he leans over you, backing you slowly up against the wall. “You looked way too fucking good dancing to that song.”
Rafe started rifling through the layers of your prom dress impatiently, trying to get his hands on you.
“What are you doing?” You playfully swatted his arm, thinking he must be teasing you.
“I need you,” he growled.
“Right here? In the middle of this gross alley?” You started to think he might not be kidding.
He finally gets his hands under the heavy fabric of your gown and begins kneading the flesh of your ass, making you gasp. His open mouth found yours, and you can immediately taste the alcohol on his tongue. You pull back from him and reach up to grab both sides of his face, hoping your touch would ground him a bit. He looked at you frenzied, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.
“Baby, are you drunk already?” You said as gently as possible.
“Just on you, baby,” he slurred, attempting to dive back in for a kiss. 
“Wait,” you turned your head, causing his mouth to miss yours and land sloppily on your ear.
“What the hell?” He backed away from you in frustration. His chest was rising and falling quickly, nostrils flaring, and you wondered if he was also high. He’d only done coke once before, as far as you knew, but you remembered how panicked he was after, his heart pounding violently as you tried to calm him down. 
“It’s okay,” you assured him. “We just need to slow down a bit.”
You approached him with your hand outstretched, like he was a stray dog you were trying not to scare off. He didn’t look at you, but allowed you to slip your fingers into his, squeezing gently.
“I just wanna dance with you,” you whispered softly. Je just glared back at you, so you pouted your lips, knowing he found it irresistibly cute when you did that. He couldn’t hide the crooked smirk growing on his lips, and his breath steadied.
“We can party hard later,” you promised. “But I wanna remember this part, with you.”
He looked down at your hand in his and ran his thumb over the promise ring he had given you just a few weeks ago. You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed it softly.
As you swayed softly to the next slow song, he bent down and laid a kiss on your bare shoulder. For a moment, you thought you were successful in bringing him back down to Earth. You were full of pride, truly believing that you, and only you, would always be able to fix him when he was broken. 
Now…
Rafe stood frozen at the dress shop window, just watching you. When you tucked your hair behind your ears, it was like he could still smell your pretty coconut shampoo. When you smoothed down your dress, it was like he could still feel your soft hands on his bare skin. When you said something to your mom, it was like he could still hear your voice whispering in his ear I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.
But you hadn’t meant it, had you? You couldn’t have, or you would’ve stayed. And if you had stayed, maybe he wouldn’t be where he was now. Maybe he would’ve married you, taken you away from this island like the two of you used to dream about. Maybe he wouldn’t be a thief, a liar, a killer. 
It was too late now, too late to undo it. Too late to get back to who he was before you left. But there was something about the sight of you, the presence of you, even through the tinted window glass, that made him want to try.
Decisively, he turned back toward his car, feverishly dialing Barry’s number. Praying to whatever God was good enough to create the girl in the window that it wasn’t too late.
Looking back at yourself in the mirror, you stopped short when you saw the reflection of a figure in the window. By the time you turned around, it was gone, and you were the one left wondering if you were imagining things.
Two Years Ago…
“Ma’am can you tell us what happened here tonight?” The cop questioned you.
Rafe looked up at you with pleading eyes. White button up stained with blood, eyes glassy and red. His suit jacket, the one you had picked out together to match your dress, had been ripped to shreds.
“I don’t know,” you said to the cop, not removing your disappointed eyes from Rafe, his bloodied face illuminated in the blue-red light of the sirens. 
“We’re going to need you to give a statement, ma’am,” the officer clarified, “for the record.”
“For the record…” you shook your head at the boy on the curb, arms held behind him in handcuffs. Arms that used to hold you every night, arms you didn’t know if you could trust anymore, “...I don’t know him.”
With that, you walked away, the shattered glass from your car window crunching under your heels with each step. Rafe had no choice but to sit there and watch you go, aching with something completely unrelated to the accident.
“Y/N!” He yelled after you, unable to suppress the pain in his voice.
You just kept walking.
Now…
You woke up with a start, clutching your bedsheets. Sighing, you tapped your phone screen and it lit up in the darkness. 5:53am. 
You weren’t surprised, you hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in two years. You knew how this would go, once your brain was awake there would be no turning it back off. You sighed and threw the covers off, your old childhood bed creaking loudly as you stood up. You winced at the noise, your mother was a light sleeper, a lesson you’d learned the hard way too many times. 
You pulled on an old pair of leggings and a hoodie, and slowly crept down the stairs. Once out the door, you found your old bike in the shed in the backyard and rode off into the soft morning light. No clear destination in mind, you rode around the neighborhood, down to the beach. You watched the waves crash as you passed them. It had been two years since you’d seen the ocean, and you had nearly succeeded in convincing yourself you were okay with that. But now, the sun rising over the sea, salty air consuming your senses, all the hard work you did to delude yourself unraveled.  
Without really meaning to, you ended up at the cemetery. You parked your bike and let your memory lead you right to your dad’s plot.
His grave clearly hadn’t seen visitors in a while. You made a weak effort to brush the dirt off of his headstone, before smiling and choosing to leave it as is. “God made dirt, dirt don’t hurt” your dad would’ve said. 
For a while you just sat there, fingers combing through the grass as you listened to the birds chirp loudly in the trees above.
“That ever get annoying?” You asked your dad in jest. You smile to yourself, knowing your dad wouldn’t have minded. He was too easy going, the calm current that kept you and your mom afloat. Suddenly hit with a pang of longing to see your father again, you wished that you had something to leave here for him. You noticed a grave a few plots over, completely covered in fresh blooming flowers. 
“Somebody was popular,” you say to your dad’s headstone. “I’m sure they won’t miss one flower right?”
You stand and approach the grave, wondering who it was that inspired such an outpouring of love. 
“Sheriff Susan Peterkin” 1977-2020
You frowned. She must’ve died recently, then. Strange that your mom hadn’t said anything, surely Chip had known her, being on the force. You remembered Peterkin, she came to your school every year when you were growing up. Back then, she was just a beat cop who pulled the short straw and had to give the anti-bullying presentation, but you remember her being very nice.
You plucked a tulip from one of her many bouquets and felt like you should say something.
“Um, hi. I don’t know if you knew my dad, but I think you would’ve liked him. I’m sorry for whatever happened, but thanks for always being so cool.”
As you walked away from her grave, you noticed another newly dug plot a few yards away. The plot was small, if something was buried here, it wasn’t a body. Still, there was a small plaque over the fresh dirt. You approached, having to get pretty close before you could make out the name…
“Ward Cameron.”
Your knees buckled beneath you, the tulip you were holding slipping from your grasp. This grave couldn’t have been here for more than what, a few weeks? The grass had barely begun to grow. Maybe your mom could have just forgotten to tell you about Sheriff Peterkin, but surely the very recent death of Ward Cameron hadn’t just slipped her mind. Clearly, something bigger was going on. 
And Rafe…Rafe.
You regained your footing and started running, past Sheriff Peterkin’s grave, past your father’s, blowing him a quick kiss.
You found your bike and started pedaling as fast as you could. Not even pausing to think through what you’d say when you got there, just knowing you needed to see him, to be with him. Suddenly, it made more sense. He was grieving. Their relationship was complicated, but even when he was pissed at him, Rafe still worshiped his father.
You pulled up to Tannyhill, but the gate was closed. You tried some of the gate codes you remembered the Camerons used to rotate through, but none of them worked. After your fifth attempt, the system locked you out. You rang the bell, not sure if he would even let you in when he realized it was you, but you had to try. No answer, he must not have been home.
You sat by the wall for a few hours, waiting for him to get home. Eventually, your stomach ached with hunger, and you really had to pee. You decided to go home, collect yourself, and come back later. 
By the time you arrived home on your bike, it was almost noon. Chip was just walking in the front door, home from work. He had been pulling double overnight shifts to pay for the wedding and he looked exhausted. Luckily for both of you, the wedding was just a few days away now, and all of this would be behind you soon.
When you walked in the living room, he was mid-conversation with your mother, who quickly shushed him at the sight of you. He looked at her in confusion, clearly not reading the silent message she was trying to send with her eyes.
“What’s going on?” You asked, feeling just as lost as Chip.
“Just telling your mom how we brought in that Cameron boy again last night-” your mother cut him off with a harsh, “Chip!” and he threw his hands up in surrender.
You and your mother looked at each other for a long moment, saying nothing, and at the same time, everything. 
“Don’t,” she pleaded quietly.
You turned fast and ran toward the door, grabbing her car keys and your purse off the dining room table as you passed.
“Y/N, do not do this,” your mom was up from the couch, running after you as you headed for the front door. “Tonight is my bachelorette party and tomorrow we have the rehearsal!”
“I’ll be back in time, I just have to-”
“No you don’t! You don’t have to!” She yelled, trying to grab the handle of the door before you could get to it, but you beat her to it and threw open the door.
“I’m sorry,” you called behind you as you ran to her car in the driveway. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Don’t bother,” she yelled from the front steps. 
You stopped in your tracks, hands pausing on the handle of her car door as you whipped your head towards her in surprise.
“If you leave right now,” she said, eerily composed, “If you go to him, I don’t want you at my wedding. If you do this, y/n…I don’t ever want to see you again”
Your mother had said many harsh words to you in moments of frustration that she tried to take back later, but the way she was talking to you now, her tone so even and her words so carefully selected, you wondered if she’d practiced this speech. Then it dawned on you, she knew you would do this. She knew if you found out about Ward, that you’d run to Rafe’s side. And she was fully prepared to cut you out.
You opened the car door and got in, not looking back at your mom as you peeled out of the driveway.
Twelve Years Earlier…
“No, Rafe,” you scolded, hands on your hips. “You’re the cop, and I’m the robber!”
“Well too bad. I wanna be a robber, too,” he said, taking off the plastic sherriff's badge you had given him and throwing it in the playground dirt. 
“We can’t both be robbers, that doesn’t make any sense,” you told him. 
The rules of make-believe were very clear, and you’d always been a rule follower. That is, until you started spending your recesses playing with Rafe Cameron. He was always in trouble.
“Sure we can, we’ll be like Bonnie and Clyde!” He encouraged, handing you his plastic toy gun.
“Bonnie and Clyde,” you agreed with a smile, taking the gun.
Suddenly, you didn’t care so much about breaking the rules. Not if it meant you got to keep playing with him.
(chapter 4)
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a/n: y'all are blowing me away with all your kindness about this story!! I hope you keep loving it!!! Lots more to come (including some smut if you're patient🤫) 🫶
If you asked to be on the taglist and I forgot you, I'm sorry and please let me know!!
taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts @nymphetkoo @xoxohoneymoongirl @hangmanscoming @azrielsgirll @maibelitaaura @laniirackssss @rubixgsworld @sweetienans @dasguccier @brain-palacee @ymnizuh @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @thewalkingdeadsmut @themindofmoe @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @v0lturiaq
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writingoddess1125 · 8 months
Text
You Give them Face Mask! 🧼
Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Usopp, Buggy, Mihawk
Fluffy Fluff
Just felt like more Fluff Fluff rn 😌 Enjoy!
Luffy
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Trying to get this man into a face mask is like trying to wash a puppy- A happy struggle and pain in the ass.
"Luffy please" You say with a sad eyes- He will fold after this and let you. However he doesn't sit still so you use a sheet mask that simply helps with oily skin.
"This smells nice" He will say as you have to bribe him with snacks to keep it on for 15 minutes.
"It's rose scented" You say and wear one yourself to keep him still with some gummy candies. Will have trouble sitting still and will start chatting and walking in circles as he waits.
Once it's over he rubs his shiny face and talks about how squeaky he sounds. Utterly destroying your work-
Sanji
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Sanji is more then willing to indulge you. Picking out some mild scents and you do a peel off mask since he has deep pores.
"Wanna do the charcoal mask?" You offer which he accepts after finding the scent pleasant enough.
"Do people do these often?" He will flirt and talk about the curiosities in your self care. Once the mask is done he will complain about the tightness.
"That means it's ready to peel!!"
"AHHH! OW!!?" He yelps in surprise as you pull the mask off his face. His face bright red and raw from this so you add some water based moisturizer to his face. You show him the mask.
"That was in my face!?"
Will both be disgusted and fascinated by the amount of gunk pulled from his skin.
Zoro
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His skin is fairly flawless which is honestly frustrating since he cares so little for his skin.
You offer the face mask anyway and he refuses for a while bit does eventually fold. You use a snail slime mask on him since it will keep him skin looking flawless.
"This smells funny..." He grumbles as he will lay there listening to you talk, Half asleep and waiting. Will open his eye occasionally and ask a few questions about your interest in this stuff.
You wipe it off and help him rince his face. Skin is pretty much glowing at this point and You stare in awe. "So pretty!"
"I'm going to go train now-" You scream at him in protest in trying to ruin his pretty face.
Usopp
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Usopp is willing of course, since the ocean air drys his skin quite a lot. So you use a shea butter face mask and tap his skin with your fingers to help it soak in his rough skin.
"You know I once got a spa treatment from Mermaids like this-' He will spin his tales as You work. When you do rince off the mask you add some nice skin oils afterwards to his skin.
You rub a lot of oil in his skin and he will pause his stories as he judt enjoys the time. Will smell the jar you're using and a softness will run over his face in fondness.
"This smells like the stuff my mother used to use-" He will say with a smile. His skin looks shiny and golden by the time your done, making him look sexy- in his own words.
Will come back regularly to have you treat his skin and will even talk about stories with his mother from time to time.
Buggy
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Grease paint wrecks havoc on one's skin Buggys especially since he wears it so much. Needs some detoxing clay mask then a aloe moisture one to replenish. If you're doing his face might as well deep condition his hair as well.
He does enjoy the attention and doing them since his face feels better. Secretly he actually has acne marks from his youth and some scars from before he ate a devil fruit.
"What was this one from?" You ask pointing to a light scar on his cheek.
"Hmm 10- Me and Shanks were trying to figure out blades better. Let's say I learned knives can bounce back at you-" He says amused and letting you work.
"The skin around your nose is dry" Buggy will frown, thinking you're about to insult him since even though he trust you the most his insecurities will win- till you carefully paint the mask on those areas and smile proudly.
"There we go, all better" You say and kiss his hand to go apply your own.
Will sit and listen to you read outloud or talk with him about show ideas as he lays there with the face mask.
"Can we do this every night?"
Mihawk
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"No-" He will protest, his eyes narrowing as you offer the mask to him. However after enough begging and ever Perona joining in at pestering him he will fold.
Mihawk gets treated to a full spa day when this happens- A hydrating honey facemask on his skin, cucumbers on his eyes and even a hair mask in his hair to make it softer.
Perona is overjoyed as well as she cleans his nails and applies clear polish to make them shiny and nice! Grumbles the whole time silently and ends up Downing a bottle of wine.
"Do not get used to this-" He grumbles as he takes his wine and drinks from it as you and Perona work. He kinda looks like a spa mom-
Once done this man looks runway ready- His hair is much softer so sets lower, his skin flawless and even his beard looks nicer. Stares at you and Perona deadpanned and sighs-
"Thank you both for the nice gesture..."
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wileys-russo · 4 months
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bsf, can we pretty pls see something with the one day that r actually chooses to cuddle leah instead of lessi. lessie doesn’t know what to do with herself besides pout about how unfair it is. and leah’s all like “welcome to my world babe”
as always just because i write this doesn't mean i ship them in real life! switch up II l.williamson & a.russo
"baby she's going to be home in like two minutes, am i really that awful as company?" alessia frowned playfully as you shifted impatiently in your seat, glancing to the door every few seconds as if you could magically make your other girlfriend appear faster.
"of course not lessi baby, you know you've missed her just as much as i have." you assured with a smile, moving to sweetly kiss her. "mm not as much as you have, i quite like not having to share." the blonde teased, hand on your neck moving you back into a proper kiss.
though she only held your attention for a few more moments as keys sounded in the door and you instantly pulled away, head whipping sideways as leah stepped in bags dropping to the floor with a thud as she sang out hello.
you were in front of her in record time, the defender wrapping her arms around you tightly as you inhaled deeply having missed her immensely the last nine days she'd been away.
leah had been away in jordan again with the arsenal foundation and as much as both you and alessia were endlessly proud of her there had been a definite hole in your relationship and your shared home without leah's presence.
"careful darling, someone might think you missed me." leah teased with a rasp, clearly exhausted from the travel. "so much, it felt like nine years!" you mumbled into her shoulder as her body vibrated with laughter.
feeling her nudge your chin upwards you looked up still in her arms, the taller girl connecting your lips in a fierce kiss. if leah hadn't known you'd missed her before she certainly did now as you ravished her like she'd been away for nine months not nine days.
pulling away leahs head span a little as you smiled happily seeing the slight daze in her eyes, pecking her lips a few more times and stepping back allowing alessia to take your place as the two blondes exchanged their own greetings.
"babe leave that! i'll take it later." leah pulled away from kissing your other girlfriend, chin resting on alessia's shoulder as you grabbed her bag and headed for the bedroom, waving off her words dismissively as she shook her head.
"you've got no leg to stand on baby she gets that stubbornness from you, pair of you are argumentative as ever." alessia grinned teasingly, leah rolling her eyes and kissing her to shut her up which worked, alessia's head now spinning and lips a little swollen as leah pulled away tugging on her bottom lip.
"where are you goin? i just got back less!" the defender asked, smug smile dropping as alessia reached past to grab her keys. "shops. making your favourite for dinner later!" alessia smiled, swinging her keys around on her finger.
"can you get some more avocados please babe?" you sang out from the bedroom. "her and her fucking avocado toast." alessia mumbled with a sigh as leah grinned in agreement. "of course baby!" alessia plastered a fake smile on calling out to you making leah chuckle.
"be fast, i missed you both." leah pouted, alessia kissing it away with a smile. "hey wait!" you yelled out hearing the door open, sprinting out of the bedroom as alessia raised an eyebrow, one foot out the door.
"you forgot something." you spoke in a duh tone as she frowned, a little confused. but you leaning in to kiss her made the taller girls cheeks blush pink. "okay now you can go." you grinned, squishing her face in your hand.
"sap." alessia rolled her eyes playfully before leaving, her car starting up as leah collapsed into the sofa with a sigh. "hello." the blonde lit up as you joined her, tugging you to sit on her lap.
"you look shattered my love." your arms wound around leahs neck, playing absentmindedly with her baby hairs. "yeah there was a grizzly baby on the flight, cried the entire time." leah groaned as you frowned.
"its only early. you could take a nap and then be back up about lunchtime so you still sleep tonight?" you suggested, leahs head falling to your shoulder as she pulled your body even tighter against her own.
"only if you join me."
when alessia returned home around an hour later her eyebrows furrowed at just how quiet it actually was. bringing in the shopping from her car she was equally as surprised when neither you or leah appeared to help like normal.
venturing off to find the two of you a smile settled finding you both wrapped up together in bed, limbs entangled and chests rising and falling.
the sight made the striker chuckle, never having been able to fall asleep as easy as you or leah let alone with the blinds open and sunlight streaming in like it was right now.
leaving you both be for awhile she busied herself putting everything away, quickly returning to the bedroom afterwards where leah now lay awake, her free arm holding her phone.
"she really would sleep through an earthquake huh?" alessia whispered with a grin nodding to you curled up practically on top of leah who rolled her eyes with a smile hinting at her lips.
"you'd think she was the one with jetlag." leah chuckled, hissing as you suddenly pinched her bare thigh. "she also has ears and a name." you mumbled tiredly into leahs neck where your face was buried.
"leave me be, less's snoring has been keeping me up." you exhaled deeply as alessia scoffed, grabbing a throw cushion and smacking you with it.
"that is simply not true! you've been up late reading your stupid books and then getting up ridiculously early as always." your girlfriend remanded, leah feeling your lips curl into a smile against her skin.
between the three of you it was you who was the early bird, alessia the night owl and leah a combination of the two depending on her mood.
"mm i don't know, i've definitely heard rumours that you snore before from ella on camps." leah grinned teasingly as you felt the bed dip as your girlfriend settled on your other side.
"you both sleep with me every night! i do not snore!" alessia huffed with a scowl, arms wrapping around your waist and attempting to tug you into her own chest.
"no, i want leah." you grumbled tiredly, clinging onto the older blonde and shuffling your body away as again alessia scoffed. "baby." she tried again with the same results, an amused smile settling in leahs features who made no move to intervene.
"stop." you lazily swatted away alessias hands which continued to try and pry you off of leah.
"hey! why am i being left out?" alessia scowled, sitting up and glaring down at the two of you. "you've had me for nine days all to yourself, don't be needy." you huffed, pressing your face more into leahs neck as her fingers absentmindedly traced lines up and down your back.
"needy! you're the clingiest one here." alessia accused, one singular hand popping up to flip her off making leah laugh quietly as alessias glare shifted toward her.
"she always chooses you to cuddle with and i have to slot myself in. welcome to my world babe!" leah grinned victoriously, your breathing evening out as you drifted back off to sleep and alessia flopped back into bed on her back, glaring up at the ceiling with her arms crossed.
"less, come on. we can still cuddle!" leah chuckled, patting the space right next to her as the younger girl ignored her, choosing instead to huff and groan and grunt clearly expressing her distaste every few minutes.
waking up at her latest annoyed grunt you shuffled down to rest your head on leahs chest, staring at the striker beside you tiredly.
"lessi you're such an aquarius." you shook your head hiding a smile at her childish behavior. "i'm just a girl, looking at her two girls, asking them to love her." alessia rolled onto her side with a pout, nose scrunching up adorably.
"we'll be sure to nominate you for your oscar babe." leah clapped slowly, eyes closed as you smiled and alessia kicked her gently. "hey!" the defender whined as you shuffled off of her, dropping back into your usual space in the middle as alessia launched at you.
"you're so needy." you laughed into her mouth as she tugged your back into her front and kissed you hungrily, leah cracking one eye open and rolling it. "just need cuddles from my pretty girl." alessia pulled away and smiled down at you charmingly.
leah suddenly cleared her throat, eyes still closed.
"my pretty girls." alessia corrected, one arm reaching over to tug on her top as leah shuffled a little closer, draping her own arm over you to wedge you in between them.
"my pretty girls."
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rallamajoop · 4 months
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That time Heisenberg stabbed Ethan with a rusty fencepost
Thanks to this one fic project that needed a pornographically detailed list of Ethan’s most memorable injuries, I've spent some time trying to figure out exactly what Heisenberg stabs him with when they first met. Working mostly from a free-camera version from youtube, I settled on calling a metal pipe with a square profile.
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Tumblr: I was wrong. The reality is so much worse.
Having cracked the game files and installed my own free-camera mod, I tracked down the original asset for this thing, and, well...
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No, really, this is it! Check out those matching cross-bars if you doubt me.
FWIW, it isn’t actually a spear. Those semi-mangled crossbars flag it instead as a spear-headed fence-post. (This may not be a distinction that Ethan would find very comforting after being stabbed with the thing, but there it is, regardless.)
In fact, if you poke around the cemetery area just outside the castle gate, you can even find the fence it presumably came from.
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Look in on the cemetery near the church from the lane leading up to the Duke's shop beside it, and this is what you'll see.
It's not a perfect match (in fact, it's even worse viewed from the opposite side, because someone has clearly stuffed up the textures on different sides of the same asset). I'll also note that if you go back to this fence again after meeting Heisenberg, you won’t find any suspicious gaps in it where a post was recently ripped out. So I’m going to just go ahead and assume this particular piece was lying in a pile of surplus scrap in the cellar somewhere, and Heisenberg did not, in fact, drag the thing all the way there from well outside the whole damn building. I mean, at that point, you’re just showing off.
The fence post is, admittedly, pretty hard to get a good look at in the actual game. Unlike all the other crap Heisenberg already has levitating around him in this scene, the fencepost doesn’t appear at all until Heisenberg stabs Ethan with it. It actually seems to emerge at speed from between a couple of barrels at the back. But if you’re enough of a lunatic to play around with the various slow motion/rewind settings that came with the free camera mod, you can get a decent shot of it in flight, cleaning up any remaining doubt that this is the same asset that was used in game.
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It even freaking spins in the air as it moves. FTR, yes, it does go in pointy-end first. And the whole fucking spearhead ends up buried in poor Ethan. (Please feel free to insert your own dick-joke here.) Those paying really close attention might even note that the blood on Ethan's shirt is present even before the spear hits him, but that's just going to be virtual-stunt-coordination having a normal one.
I can offer you no similarly definitive insight into why Heisenberg would think stabbing Ethan with this thing was a good idea. I can’t even tell you if he knew for sure that it was Ethan Winters he was talking to at this point (maybe he's just playing dumb, pretending not to recognise him. Or maybe he legit didn't know that Ethan himself had made an appearance until Miranda told him. Sure, he's already got that whole conspiracy board, but finding real pictures of this Ethan-guy is surprisingly hard.) But whether Heis was already testing out Ethan’s ‘interesting body’, or whether he’d just generally assumed that anyone who could survive a full lycan assault on the village wouldn’t be too seriously inconvenienced by a little stabbing, hoo boy was this one way to make a first impression.
I’m not even sure which of these losers is the bigger idiot here: the one who imagined Ethan might still agree to work with him even after inserting a very convincing imitation-spearhead into his intestines, or the one who never thought to seriously question how he keeps shrugging off injuries just as exciting as this one.
They probably deserve each other.
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lizardboiii · 2 months
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Breaking up ┃One Piece Pt. 1
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Scenario: Having a huge fight with your bf which ultimately leads one of you to saying something you regret.
"I wish I never met you."
Characters: Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro x Fem!reader
cw: 18+, SFW, Angst, Hurt/No comfort, vulgar language
☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *.
Monkey D. Luffy
“You never even treat me like we're together!”
You were at your breaking point, figuratively and literally. In the last three months that you and Luffy had been together, not once did he change the way he acted towards you. It felt as if you were still just Luffy’s nakama. Well today that was all going to change. You had a plan.
It took some convincing, but you finally managed to get Nami and Ussop to help you set up a romantic dinner in the Sunny’s crow’s nest. Two of Luffy’s favorite things, food and you. It was perfect.
With preparations taken care of, you waited patiently for Luffy to arrive. Your aforementioned captain was currently exploring the island you were stopped at. But with the sun starting to set, he'd be back for dinner any minute now.
So you waited. 
And waited. 
And waited….
You waited till the candles were near burnt out. Waited till the food went ice cold. Waited till your eyes stung from holding back tears.
Monkey D. Luffy had stood you up.
Your own boyfriend. 
Slamming the napkin delicately placed across your lap onto the table, you pushed yourself to your feet. Humiliation creeped its way up your neck. Never in your life have you ever felt so worthless. 
Holding back hiccups, you dragged yourself out of the crow’s nest and away from the undisturbed meal. What was Nami going to think? All that preparation for nothing. You clenched your hands into tight fists. The next time you see Luffy you swear you were going to-
“y/n!”
You spun on your heel to face the familiar voice. Luffy’s face smiled brightly at you, blinding you more than the moonlight. It was almost enough for you to forgive him. Almost.
“Wait up!”
Scoffing, you glared at his cheery form before turning away from him. All you wanted was a shower, not excuses. 
Luffy caught up with your silently seething form with ease, spinning around you like top. He pranced around as if he were a crow and you his shiny treasure. Your name falling from his lips like a mantra.
Try as you might, eventually you gave into his pestering, voice sharp as nails, “What do you want, Luffy?”
Luffy’s grin widened despite your tone, “Sorry I couldn't make it, y/n. There was a festival in town, you should have come. There was an all you can eat buffet, Tra-guy and Jaggy were there too!” He scratched his chin, “Maybe next time you can invite everyone else so we can all eat together again!”
Your eye twitched, “Why would I invite the whole crew to our date?”
“Date?”
You stopped in your tracks, “Yes, date. You know the ones you're supposed to take your girlfriend out on? That kind?”
You could practically see the gears turning in his head at your reply. 
“But I have multiple girlfriends?” “WHAT?”
“Ya! You, Robin, Nami,” Luffy used his fingers to count, “Oh, and Vivi!”
You face palmed, “Not “girl” friends, Luffy. A “girlfriend”. Someone who’s more,” You reached for Luffy’s hand, “Special.”
“But all my friends are special,” Luffy pouted, gingerly returning your touch.
Laughing, you shook your head, “I know. But…It's a different type of special. It's when you wanna hold their hand, and you wanna be near them no matter what,” You met his confused gaze, “It's someone you love.”
“Then why would I wanna do that with you?”
“Huh?”
It felt like your body hit a brick wall. Every word ripped from your throat. He was joking right? It was a sick joke but a joke no less. 
“I don’t think I love you.”
You blinked in confusion before choking out a response, “T-Thats okay. Sometimes it takes a while to realize you love someone. It's not immediate.”
Luffy hummed, “I'm not sure I even want a “girlfriend”, y/n.”
A nervous laughter erupted from your throat, “Luffy, what are you talking about?” It felt like your heart might leap out of your chest.
“I like how my friends are now. I don't need a “girlfriend”. I have my Nakama. I have you.”
The world suddenly stopped spinning, and only for a moment the ocean quieted and the breeze hushed. Then, as if nothing happened, the world began to turn as normal, leaving behind your hollowed out body.
"...what?"
Cheeky smiled, Luffy repeated his words as if it was only the news, "I don't need a "girlfriend" I have a crew!"
The empty feeling in the pit of your stomach slowly filled with rage. First, he stood you up. Now? Now, he wants to pretend you guys aren't even dating!?
“Luffy, we're dating! What are you talking about? I asked you out almost three months ago!” You snapped, “Why did you even say yes to me if you didn't want a "girlfriend"?” 
“I don't know,” He cocked his head to the side, “I just thought you wanted to be closer friends.”
Your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “What?”
Luffy shifted in his sandals, clearly uncomfortable, “I thought you wanted to be my “girl” friend, not my “girlfriend”.”
“Are you joking?” Your skin felt red hot as if your whole being was ablaze, “You thought I wanted to be your “girl” friend!? Did it ever once occur to you that friends don't hold each other’s hands!?”
Luffy quickly retracted his hand from your grip, scratching his head in thought, “Not really.”
“Oh my god,” You couldn't tell if you were laughing or crying at this point, “This whole time you never thought we were together? Ever?!”
“I guess we are a bit closer than everyone else,” Luffy’s brows furrowed in thought.
“A bit?” You ran your fingers through your hair, “We spend every waking moment together! I've confided in you, you've confided with me. You know things about me no one else does!”
To his credit, Luffy looked ashamed, “I’m sorry, y/n. I guess…I just never noticed how you really felt.”
You rolled your tear filled eyes, “Obviously.”
“I can try if you want-”
“Forget it, Luffy,” You held your hands up in defeat, “Just forget it. Whatever you thought was going on here is over.”
Luffy grabbed your arm, “What! I don't want that!”
“You don't seem to want a lot of things,” You shrugged his grip off, “Including me.”
“y/n.”
You wiped your face clear of tears.
“We're done, Lu.”
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Roronoa Zoro
"Do I need to be a sword just to get a minute of your attention!?"
Three hundred seventy-six, three hundred seventy-seven, three hundred seventy-eight-
“Are you still counting?”
You rolled your eyes, “Yes, mom.”
Zoro ignored your annoyed response, preferring to continue his push ups below you. Huffing, you rested your chin on your hand. He had been going at this for hours now. You were starting to feel nauseous as your form jostled every time Zoro went up and down with you on his back.
“How much longer?”
Zoro grunted, “When I reach two thousand.”
“Two thousand!?”
Your sudden shout made Zoro shoot up quickly, knocking you off balance. Your criss-crossed form easily flew from Zoro’s back to the ground below. You fell hard, slamming your shoulder into the wood floor. 
Hissing, you rubbed your now sore arm, “What the hell, Zoro!?”
“Shit.”
The moss head was quick to his feet, offering you a hand, “Dammit, you should've been more careful.”
You snatched his extended hand and scoffed, “I wasn't the one who moved so suddenly.”
Pulling you to your feet, Zoro continued to hold your hand, “I wasn't the one complaining so loudly.”
“I can’t help it. We’ve been here all day,” You played with his larger fingers, “Plus, you promised you'd explore the island with me today.”
You could hear Zoro grumble under his breath before sighing loudly, “Training is more important right now.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, “What, why?"
Your thoughts raced around in your head to find a reason for Zoro's sudden uptightness. You were quick to settle on striking golden eyes and a small dagger. Dracule Mihawk. He and Zoro had put on quite the show only weeks ago.
Rubbing Zoro's palm, you quirked a brow, "Are you still hung up about that Mihawk guy beating you?”
“I'm not hung up.”
You flinched at Zoro’s tone, “You clearly are.”
Quickly dropping your hand, Zoro turned away from you, “Listen it doesn't even matter what you think. You wouldn't understand. You're not a swordsman.”
“I'm not a swordsman but I'm definitely your girlfriend,” you snapped at his back.
“Just because you're my girlfriend doesn't mean you can control my training.”
“Just because you're a swordsman doesn't mean you can just dismiss me.”
The room filled with a silence thick enough to cut with a sword. You thought you might drown on land. Staring into Zoro's rigid back, you tried to manifest any form of response from him.
Finally, after what seemed like eons, Zoro rolled his shoulders and turned to face you. Your breath caught in your throat at his expression. It was dark, almost...menacing. It was a gaze he normally reserved scum marines and enemy pirates alike, but never for you.
“You're the one who's dismissing me!”
A forced laugh erupted from your mouth, “How am I dismissing you, moss head?” You crossed the space between the two of you, “By telling you to take one measly break?”
Zoro’s eyes bore into your own as if trying to find his next words. Grabbing your hand, he placed it on his bare chest, “Do you see this?”
You tensed at the feeling of the scar tissue, Mihawk.
“This...this scar is why I have to be stronger. For the crew. For Luffy,” Zoro squeezed your hand, “For you.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, “Zoro, I didn't-”
“Maybe we should break up.”
You paused, mouth stuck open in shock, “...what?”
It felt like you had swallowed glass, pins and needles running down your esophagus into your stomach. But the glass still wasn't enough to fill the large pit beginning to form.
Gently, Zoro pushed your hand away from him, “This relationship,” he took a deep breath, “Might be too much of a distraction.”
You never really understood when people said it felt like their heart was being ripped out of their chest. But now? It felt like your whole chest cavity had been removed. 
Slowly, hot tears began to cascad down your rosied cheeks, “You think I'm a distraction?”
Zoro paused, his internal conflicted evident on his face, “...yes.”
You clenched your teeth together tightly, “Screw you, Zoro! I can barely get you to pay attention to me when someone even mentions the word “sword” but I'm the distraction?!” You jammed a finger into his chest, avoiding his scar, “If you needed an excuse to break up with me so badly you could've at least chosen a good one!”
“I’m sorry, y/n,” Zoro favored staring at the ground, “But if I want to be the greatest swordsman I can't be with you.” His hand captured the one buried in his chest, "Not yet at least."
You ripped your hand away from him, "If not now, then never." Your eyes searched Zoro's, looking for any sign of regret, "Choose, Zoro."
"Its over, y/n," Massive arms pulled you into a warm hug, "I'm sorry."
Clutching onto him, you sobbed silently. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't he just have both?
"I love you."
“Fuck you.”
☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *.
Requests Open!
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luveline · 7 months
Note
idk if you would write for this I checked your guidelines and wasn’t sure but I would LOVE a pregnancy scare with Aaron (May be reader is younger than him?)! And she’s just panicked bc he’s older and already has a kid and etc and the test can be pos or neg totally up to you!
thank you for requesting! 1.3k, fem (possibly) pregnant!reader
cw reader's and hotch's attitude towards pregnancy is mostly positive
Your period is twelve days late. 
That is not a small amount of time. 
You don't notice it at first, and when you do you figure it's a few extra days without an irksome pain, a balm to soothe the ache of your absent boyfriend and a hard job, but when Aaron comes home from a case and you still haven't started your period, the panic begins to set in. 
You have a hard time keeping things from him for obvious reasons. His being a human lie detector felt fascinating when you first met, but now it's making things worse. You would've liked some time to yourself for denial, only he can always tell when something is wrong, though it's clear to you he's not sure exactly what it is. He'll realise eventually, you know. 
"Let's go to the store," he suggests, his hand flirting with the back of your neck. "You always feel better after a sweet treat." 
You've been to the store today, unbeknownst to him, for some emotional support chocolates and a small box you'd rather not think about. You'd hoped that he might get called away to give you time to open it, but without him you're not sure you have the strength. 
You hadn't expected to feel this way. You want desperately to tell him, but you're just so, so scared. 
"I don't feel like going anywhere." 
He hums as his hand moves to your shoulder, squeezing a loving path down to your hand. Jack bangs a toy down in his bedroom across the way, and the washing machine spinning from the utility closet sounds louder than it ever has before, like a rocket about to erupt. You don't know what it is that gets you, but suddenly you're overwhelmed, a confession stuck in the back of your throat as Aaron meets your panicked gaze. 
"What's wrong?" he asks. "Here, honey, sit down." 
He guides you to a kitchen chair. 
"What's wrong?" he asks again, bending at the waist. 
Your head rushes with white noise for a second. You wet your chapped lips with the tip of your tongue; you've missed your period, but it isn't that alone that scares you. Perhaps in an instance of a psychosomatic symptom, you feel weird, other. Something has changed. And you're starting to feel sick. 
"Aaron, I don't know what to do," you say. 
His eyes widen with an expression you don't often see. "Has something happened?" 
It's so, so hard to say. "I think I've messed up." 
"Not in any way I can't fix." 
"Maybe I have," you say miserably, panic hot behind your eyes. 
He shakes his head. "You haven't. I swear you haven't. Please, tell me what's wrong before I have a heart attack." 
You can't say it while he's looking at you, and when you do it's hardly audible. "I think I'm pregnant," you breathe. 
Aaron pauses. You can't even raise your head, anxiety its own heartbeat and nausea rising fast. You let out a gasp you'd held in and try to calm down, even while every little part of you worries about what he's going to say. 
You don't know if you want to be pregnant, or have a baby, but you know it would probably break your heart just a touch if Aaron didn't want to have one with you. You're not sure why. And Jack is a beautiful kid but he's growing up. Aaron isn't young. 
"How sure are you?" he asks, tone completely measured. 
"I… I feel it," you say. "I know that's stupid… 'N my period is really late, nearly two weeks now." 
"You feel it?" 
"I feel sick." Your elbows on your thighs and the backs of your hands pressed to your eyes, you curl in on yourself. "I'm so scared." 
"You're scared?" Hands on your forearms. Aaron gets down on his knees in front of your chair and rubs fondness into your skin, his voice a soothing, familiar comfort as he says, "Sweetheart, you have nothing to be scared of. Don't be scared. I'm right here." 
Tears like a shock, relief and horror mixed into one. "I'm so stupid, I haven't even taken the test yet, I don't know why I'm acting this way." 
"We all react differently to foreign situations than how we might imagine. What's important now is that you take a breath, because otherwise you'll panic." 
While you're afraid of what he's thinking, you trust him implicitly. "Okay." 
"Okay," he says, pulling your hands away from your face. "Just breathe, honey." 
He's more patient than you knew another person could be. He wipes your straggling tears with his hand without a word, his breath coming in even inhales and exhales for you to follow. The small spike of panic swiftly melds to plain old tears. You're embarrassed. You're unhappy. You and Aaron certainly weren't trying for this occasion. 
"What are you scared of?" he asks eventually. 
"Of you. Of what you're thinking, and– and what if I– I mean, what if I'm pregnant?" you ask, as though pregnant is a new word. When you said it at first, you'd meant, what if we end up having a baby together? But now you're more inclined to think about the process itself. What if you're physically pregnant? 
"Well, you have absolutely no reason to be scared of me. I love you." Aaron puts his hand just under your ear, his thumb to your cheek. "Whatever happens. Nothing else matters to me besides you." 
"Because you want a baby," you say unhappily. 
"Who says I don't?" He smiles at you softly. "I think we should've had this conversation a long time ago, but the long and short of it is that I love you. I love you and I'll do what you need me to." 
"I figured you'd be done having babies," you say, still hesitant. 
"Evidently not." He laughs, and you laugh back and he acts like you've hung the moon. "If you're scared of being pregnant, maybe you should take the test before you wind yourself up, hm?" 
"I guess I'm acting pretty silly, huh?" you ask, sniffling and wiping your eyes, the two of you caught in breathy laughter again. 
"Hormonal, maybe," he says. "Don't be scared. I don't want you to be scared." 
"What do you want?" you ask. 
"I just want you to stop crying. It's not right…" He strokes your damp cheek. "If I'm honest? If you take that test, and you aren't pregnant, or if you don't want to have a baby," —his face is calm, a small smile playing on his lips— "then I don't want you to, either." 
"But if I am?" you ask. 
"Then I will be so, so happy, because it's you." 
A missed period isn't necessarily indicative of pregnancy, and you could be freshly pregnant or four whole weeks and the test could still come out negative. Maybe your weird feeling is indigestion. Whatever happens, you really believe that the man in front of you is here for whatever answer you find. 
"I love you."
"I love you, too," he says, bone deep sincerity turned to something lighter, fondly teasing as he lifts himself up and hugs you close. "You know that." 
You let him hold you for a little while, calming down, looking at the positives and all your options. "You think Jack would be happy?" 
"He'd love a brother or sister… eventually." 
You wipe your tears and runny nose in his shirt and he does you the generosity of pretending not to notice. If you are going to have anyone's baby, you'd want it to be his. 
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ja3hwa · 7 months
Text
♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑𝟎: 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐎𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭/𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐉.𝐘𝐇 ♡
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Let Me Help
【Synopsis】 : You didn't know what it meant to be on heat, let alone know you could have one since you weren't a wolf... but here you were, and Yunho was going to help you through it.
『Word count』 : 1.95k 
-> Genre: Smut. Wolf Au. Fantasy Au. Fluff.
Paring: Werewolf!Yunho x Human!Reader
[Warnings] : Swearing. Unprotective sex. Pet names. Neck kisses, hickies. Biting. Cumming inside [don’t do that unless you wan babas] Alpha kink. Knotting. Slight choking. Rough sex. Fluff stuff. Some Omegaverse stuff
Thank you, @spooo00oky, for requesting Yunho for this day. I hope you enjoy ♡♡♡
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You were a human. That fell in love with a werewolf and now you’re his mate and live in a den with all his other wolf friends that are also his pack and you are the first human to be mated to one of the wolves in this pack in history. And plus you are now experiencing what they call a heat but you aren’t a wolf and none of the she-wolves or the alchemist knows what to do so you are pacing back and forth in your bathroom waiting for your lover to come home from a full moon cleanse to tell him to help you through something you’ve never been through before….
Missing anything?
“Fuck!” Your hand slipped off the basin in the bathroom, clutching your stomach. You’ve never experienced such a pain before only being able to compare period pains or when you’ve eaten bad food. But the alchemist, Yeosang had warned you since you were human the heat would be way more severe to you than a normal she-wolf. Expressing it might feel like being stabbed or disembowelled. Lovely...
You washed your face with ice-cold water multiple times to try and cool the heat rushing through you but nothing was helping. You felt like you were losing your mind and you had no idea what to do, or how to fix it. All you knew was you needed your mate and needed him now.
Maybe a shower would work? But wait... Why were you now standing under the showerhead fully clothed? When did you even turn the shower on let alone get in? Your mind was jumping, hazing. Everything was happening so quickly yet standing still at the same time. You cried, sobbing out for Yunho. Crouching down you let the cold water spray on your hunched back as you hug your knees. The headache was bad and the cramps were worse. Your body was shutting down, making you wonder if this heat could kill you if not looked after.
You couldn’t let your mind slip any further, suddenly hearing the bathroom door being slammed open. A large, beefy Yunho came rushing into the shower. He wasn't wearing a shirt, probably not caring to fully dress when he turned back into his human form. His jeans were getting soaked from the water as he bent down to grab your waist, pulling you up to stand on your feet. You wanted to fall back down but his large frame caged you, holding you tightly so you wouldn't slip. His mouth found your neck sucking on just the right spot. You knew from the little research you had done that it would of most likely been the spot where your glands had been if you were a she-wolf and it was also the spot on your neck that he would mark when you get bounded as soulmates.
He had yet to do so, worried it might affect you if he would knot you. So Instead, when he found the urge to mark you when you both were having sex in the past, he would bite the pillow next to you or the couch arm, or even his own hand. Never would he sink his fang in your sweet soft flesh. His lips kiss along your jugular making you whimper. The small bit of pleasure was sending your mind into a spin. He managed to push you against the wall, tugging at your wet clothing to get it off your shaking body. He would kiss your cheeks, then your forehead, then the corner of your mouth. He would whisper just above the sound of the shower, ‘My pretty pup,’ ‘Let me take care of you,’ ‘That’s it baby, just breath.’
He threw the wet fabric out of the shower making it land on the floor somewhere out of sight. He took this moment, to gaze upon your beautiful body. He could smell you dripping down your leg, making him groan. It was enough to feel the tightness in his jeans get worse. He wanted nothing more than to lose control and knot you like he should. But you were human. Such a fragile thing. Not like a she-wolf that could take his strength. But he had no idea that was exactly what you needed at this moment. “Yuyu please, help me. It hurts.”
The cramps were becoming worse when not his touch was soothing some of the aches in your joints. You needed him inside you, desperately. “Please, I need you inside…” Fuck… dirty talk was something you rarely did, finding it too embarrassing to do. Yunho on the other hand was born to be filthy. He loved watching you squirm by the sheer motion of his voice telling you what he wanted to do to you. How he was going to defile you.
“Yeah, pup? You need my cock inside your soaking cunt?” he wanted more from you. Picking one of your legs up so he could stand close to you, rubbing his red angry tip along your slit.
“Yes please, fuck…hmm, I need you so badly. Please Yuyu.” Your soft whines got his heart reeling, pushing inside you with little effort as your heat soaked your cunt was perfect for him to slip in. He completely bottomed out in a second making you feel so unbelievably full. The ache in your body was gone for a moment, sweet relief was granted to you. But the cramps were soon coming back making you scream “Fuck me Yunho. Please hurry.”
Who was he to deny his mate, thrusting at a slow steady pace. Your hands gripped his wet biceps as the shower head was directly pouring in between both of you. The stimulation of the running water on your clit, helped your high draw closer. Yunho picked up your other leg, smoothing your body against the wall to fuck you at a harsher angle making your head fall back to hit against the tiles.
Your lover's face buried in your neck, licking and sucking on any flesh he could get to. Everything was perfect but you needed just one more thing which Yunho seemed to know, reaching down to press his thumb on your clit making you gasp clamping down on his cock while you came hard. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. YUNHo!”
“That’s it pup, come on your mate's cock. Let me feel you come around me.” His voice growled in your ear biting at your ear lobe. He moved backwards slightly letting you wrap your arms around his neck so you could bury your face in his neck this time. You sucked on his rough skin creating your very own mark on his neck. You might not be a wolf but you certainly could still leave your mark.
“I’m coming Yuyu please!” You crashed hard, clenching around him. He kept fucking up into you, making your juices squish and squelch around his cock, dripping out onto his legs. But nothing was stopping him. He turn off the shower, needing to fuck you from a different angle.
“Hold onto the sink pup. I’m not done with you yet.” he bent you over the cold sink, making you shiver at the freezing sensation on your sensitive nipples. His cock sunk back into your quivering hole, gifting you a low grumble that ripped through Yunho’s chest. It was almost animalistic, beast-like. His like wolf was taking over. “Fuck sugar, you feel so good. So tight. My perfect pup.”
“Y-hmmm Yun…” Your hips slammed against the counter surely creating indents in your skin that would definitely bruise by the morning. His nails dug into your flesh, making crescent moon shapes while his thrusts got fast as soon approached his edge. Just a little more. Just some more and you had just had perfect timing. “Please Alpha, I need your cum inside me. Please fuck me harder. I want your knot.”
You had no idea where the name came from or why your brain was screaming at you to somehow present for him. To make him know, he could do anything to you. The name slipped off your tongue perfectly and it made his wolf howl. His hips jacked in an inhuman speed, snaking his hand around your throat he growled pooled in your ear. “Alpha hmm? You want your alpha to knot you pup? Mate you? Breed you, fill with his pups?”
Your hand banged against the mirror, smashing a crack into it but not breaking it entirely. Yunho used his hand that was on your hip to cage yours on the said mirror. Linking fingers with you as his thrusts got harder but stuttered through his unstability. “You want my mark sugar? Want to let every other wolf know you’re mine? Fuck just imagining you full and round with my pups makes me want to fuck you all night.”
“Please alpha, Make me yours.” Your cries were music to his ears. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Your his human mate, wanting to be marked, knotted and bred. God, could you get any more perfect.
“It’s okay baby when I’m done, you’ll be leaking my seed for days.” His hand got tighter on your jugular while his lips kissed along your shoulder blades before teasingly nipping at where he would mark you. Everything was so overwhelming, your cramps and all the pain you had felt were washing away being replaced with nothing by Yunho’s scent and touch.
“I’m gonna come, Alpha!” Your choked moans were breathy and short. His hand finally let go of your neck, grasping back on your hip to hold himself up. His fangs grazed your soft skin before he pierced your flesh, letting tears pool on the corners of your tears while he slowed his thrusts to empty his seed deep inside you. you came crashing down soon after. His cock growing, stretching you out, gifting you a new form of pleasure.
“That’s it Pup, deep breath.” He licked your wound, tending to it with extra care while his hand on your hip rubbed circles on your bruising skin. He lifted your left leg up, tilting it towards his body as he sat up straight, turning you around until you could wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. Now facing him, he brushed your hair out of your face, littering you with kisses. You hummed, feeling slumber taking hold of you. “Come on pup. Let’s get you in bed.”
Walking with his cock still inside you was more than uncomfortable and he should have definitely not knot you on the bathroom room counter next time. But as he plopped you on the with him next to you, he helped you cuddle up to him, wrapping you in his scent. “Do you really want my pups…”
“Hmg Fuck sugar…” Yunho had to groan at the fact you didn’t call them kids but pups. Your pups. He suddenly wanted to fuck you again. Maybe when his knot dies down he will but for now, he needs you to rest. “Of course, I want our pups baby. I plan on spending the rest of my life with you.” He kissed you slowly, passionately. Your hand cupped his hand, smiling wide at his low giggles. Your legs wiggled suddenly straddling him. “Come on baby. You need to rest.”
You sat up, drawing circles with your hips. Yunho groaned gripping your waist tightly, bucking his head backwards. “I don’t need to rest. I want more….” You leaned down kissing his cheek before whispering. “Alpha….”
-♥︎
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kyeomray · 1 year
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rise and go down on him
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pairing: kim mingyu x afab reader
content: established relationship, some fluff, slice of life, pwp, smut (18+ MDNI!!!!)
summary: mingyu is the busiest man you know, yet he always finds time to take care of you. so on the one morning he has time to sleep in, you decide to repay the favor. (smut warnings below)
word count: 2.3k
a/n: this is the first fic i’m releasing on tumblr…kinda nervous lol. I realize this concept might be overdone but I thought it was a good place to start and hope I put my own spin on it!! let me know if anything looks wrong with the format and thank you for reading xx
smut warnings: some kissing, dry humping, handjob, oral (m receiving), pet names (baby, babe, slut one time), cum eating, some pussy touching, tbh this is filthy sorry not sorry.
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you stir awake as large, warm arms engulf you from behind. smiling sleepily, you bring your hands up to softly rub along the length of them. mingyu grumbles into your hair and you let out a snort at how cute he is. you missed mornings like this.
being an idol, mingyu’s mornings didn’t typically start this freely. he was either up and out the door far before you even even woke up, or so exhausted he slept through most of his off days. you understood - with his grueling and inconsistent schedules - why intimate mornings were such a rare occurrence between the two of you.
despite his lack of time (and often energy), mingyu never neglected to make you happy and totally satisfied in your relationship. if he got food while he was out after practice, he always brought some home for you. he cleaned up after himself no matter how tired he was, knowing how much you didn’t like to do it. if he was too sleepy to dote on you, he would just suffocate you with snuggles until you both drifted off instead. and lastly, he never, ever, left you wanting or needy.
he savored every second of time you had together. his favorite was dragging you to shower with him whenever he got the chance. he would press you against the wet tiles and throw your leg over his shoulder, burying his face into your wet heat until your whole body trembled. he’d bend you over your vanity while you did your morning routine, being careful not to ruin your hair or makeup while he plowed into your cunt from behind. he would even finger you till you cried while you watched movies on the couch if he didn’t have energy for anything else. he always assured you it was okay. he wanted to pleasure you every chance he got. and you were so in love with him for it.
this particular morning, you woke up in a spectacular mood. it’s not often mingyu gets a few days off in a row and it’s definitely not often that you both get to sleep in together. the realization makes your heart flutter, and you bring mingyu’s big hand up to press delicate kisses on his knuckles.
you feel him stir behind you, the evenness of his breathing coming to a stop. he presses his face further into the mess of your hair, inhaling deeply. you giggle slightly at the action, squirming at the warmth.
“good morning, handsome.” you whisper, resuming your stroking of his forcep. he groans quietly behind you.
“mornin’ baby.” mingyu rasps. he still sounds exhausted, and your heart clenches a little. you know he probably won’t want to get up for a while, and not one bit of you blames him or disagrees. you snuggle back into him further, relishing in the way his arms tighten around you.
“missed this so much ‘gyu.” you sigh softly, letting your head fall back to the pillow. “missed waking up with you.”
“me too, angel. c’mere.” mingyu moves his arm away from you and pulls on your hip gently, and you can tell he wants you to turn around.
you do exactly that, shifting your body until you’re facing your boyfriend in his arms. you’re so close that you can feel his soft breath fanning across your face. you beam at him before burrowing your head in the crook of his neck. he smells so warm and good, and you don’t think you ever want to leave this spot.
you love mingyu so incredibly much, and now is one of those times when your whole body is buzzing with that feeling. he always does so much for you, and you want to start doing half as much. making him feel half as loved as he makes you feel (which is still a lot). you can feel the mischievous grin form on your face; you know exactly what to do and you have the time today.
you start off innocent; lifting your head up to place small pecks all over mingyu’s cheeks and nose. his eyes open slightly as a small smirk forms on his lips, and you take that as an opportunity to press your own against them. he immediately melts into you, sighing into your mouth and rubbing his hands along the span of your back.
you hook your arms underneath mingyu’s armpits, moving your hands up to tug softly at the hair on his nape while you lightly suck his lips into your mouth. he groans at the action, and his tongue is immediately prodding at your lips.
you part your mouth, his tongue quickly finding your own and swirling against it. you can’t help the small whine that escaped you when mingyu’s hands find your ass, groping and squeezing the soft flesh shamelessly (and as if he isn’t still half asleep). he chuckles sleepily at your reaction, and you pull back from him briefly.
“you’re kind of a pervert, you know that kim mingyu?” there’s a smile on your face, and mingyu decides to push things a little further, slipping his hands into your underwear and spreading your ass cheeks apart while biting his lip. you gasp, pressing your hips further into him. “forget kind of, you’re a gigantic fuckin’ perv.”
“you do this to me, baby. it’s your fault i’m so horny all the time.” you laugh a little at the pout on his face, and move up to resume kissing him. his mouth is moving hungrily against yours despite the tired state of his body, and it has butterflies erupting deep in your stomach. you yank at his hair again, rougher this time, and attach your lips to the cut of his jaw.
he sighs out when you throw a leg over his hip, essentially laying halfway on top of him. your lips continue their attack on his neck, sucking marks into his soft skin as you roll your hips against him. mingyu is groaning softly, grabbing behind your knee and hauling you even closer to him. your thigh is pressed against something hot and hard when he does so, and an evil grin spreads on your face.
pulling back slightly, you watch mingyu’s face as you slowly trail your hand down his abdomen. the sight before you is kind of hilarious, really. his eyes are still heavy with sleep and his hair is a mess on top of his head, but his cock is raging against you underneath his shorts. you giggle at the sight as your hand reaches its destination.
his breath hitches when you rub your hand over him, stroking the shape of his erection teasingly. you can tell he’s already fully hard, and you squeeze your hand around him firmly just to feel the way his cock pulses in your grip. wetness seeps past the seam of your pussy as you do, and settles on the seat of your panties. you’ve got a long and fun morning ahead of you, you already know it.
“so hard for me already, and I just started touching you, gyu.” slipping your hand under his waistband, you smooth your fingertips over the oozing tip of his cock, relishing in the broken gasp he lets out.
“mm—mhm, y-yeah baby. you make me so hard.” he grunts, and you can tell he’s already gone. already panting as you rub his cock, working him up till he breaks.
“you work so much, baby. let me take care of you today.” you purr against his neck, wetly smooching the flesh there before pushing him to lay fully on his back. his cock stands straight up in his boxers, tenting the fabric almost comically. you work down his body, kissing and licking down his stomach before you reach his crotch.
you decide to tease him further, mouthing his dick over the fabric of his underwear until the material is soaked through. mingyu groans frustratedly, but you can tell he’s still too tired to reprimand you. you continue your ministrations, sucking and licking the covered tip of him till his thighs are trembling and he’s whining above you.
“fuck,” he gasps out when you yank his underwear down just enough so that his cock springs up against his stomach. he’s already leaking so much, and you wrap your fingers around his shaft to feel the weight of him. “p-please,” mingyu manages, tears already welling up in the corners of his eyes. “please don’t tease me baby. n-need you so bad.”
“I’m gonna take care of you gyu, don’t worry. gonna suck on your big cock till you explode.” you emphasize your words by spitting lewdly on his dick, working your hand around him while the wet noises of it fill the room. his body noticeably relaxes into the bed, and that’s when you go to town.
your lips wrap around him, massaging them over his tip before dipping your tongue into his leaking slit. he cries out and his whole body jolts, making you smirk against him. you go back to work, taking him further into your mouth with each bob of your head. his cock is coated in your saliva at this point, and you know this is only the beginning of the mess you two are going to make.
you look up at him as you practically bounce your mouth on his length, taking in his fucked-out expression. he’s still panting, and small whines and grunts are escaping with his breath. squeezing your fingers around his base, you hollow your cheeks around him, slowly sucking up his shaft until you reach the tip and swirl your tongue over him.
“fucking hell…you’re s-so fucking good at that. shit.” mingyu moans loudly, and you can tell you’re gonna be so wet that your underwear stick to you like a second skin after this. you’re desperate to make him cum, feel his cock jump with each spurt, so you hasten your movements. jerking him off as you slurp around him, making spit drip down the length of him.
you unwrap your hand from his shaft, bringing it down to play with his balls instead. he practically sobs out at that, his thighs quivering with each pass your lips make over the ridge of his head. he starts babbling, and that’s how you can tell he’s getting close.
“ss-so good baby. ‘m not gonna last. so so g-good.” mingyu slurs, drool beginning to seep onto his pillow as his eyes roll back. you take him deeper, your nose nearly touching his navel with each bob of your head. he’s so big that you’re starting to gag on him, but you push through anyway. you can’t help but wonder what the room would sound like to someone else, with the way you’re choking and slobbering on his dick.
mingyu’s riding the edge at this point, just needs a little something to get him there. it’s a good thing you know his body like the back of your hand, because you practically read his mind. gripping his girth once again, you squeeze the base of him. your lips tighten around him, dragging your tongue along with them as you move up his shaft. mingyu’s balls are tightening, his cock throbbing as you suction your mouth around him. you mentally prepare to take his load as you lap at his frenulum, already feeling him twitch under your tongue. sure enough, he starts crying out, desperate and pathetic ‘ahhh’s spilling from him and increasing in pitch.
“mmh, gonna cum. shit, baby. g-gonna cum. I—I’m cumming—mmmph!” mingyu’s jaw practically unhinges in a long, strained moan, his back threatening to arch off of the bed as his cock jerks in your mouth, pulsing with spurts of thick cum that land on your tongue and the back of your throat. you swear he cums for hours, his knuckles turning white as he grips the bed sheets.
you struggle to swallow the large mouthful of his load, but you somehow manage with only a few drops leaking out of the corners of your mouth. you squeeze the last few drops out of him with your hand before laving your tongue over him one last time to clean him up.
his body jerks and he whimpers in sensitivity at the overstimulation. you place one last kiss on his tip before sitting up, knowing he’s had enough. you watch him with your hands on your knees, observing the way he’s attempting to catch his breath, his arm draped across his forehead. he manages a small chuckle as he notices you staring, cocking your head to one side.
“you’re fucking unreal. I hope you know that.” he breathes, making your cheeks blossom with heat despite the lewd acts you just performed on him. you know mingyu is spent, but honestly giving him head makes you so fucking horny, you’re worried you might have to rub one out in the shower if he has no energy left.
luckily for you, mingyu can tell exactly you need him (by the way you squirm and squeeze your thighs together), and he won’t ever leave you wanting. especially after some of the best head of his life. he motions you over to him with a lazy wave of his hand. “c’mere baby. wanna feel how wet you are.”
you crawl over to him slowly, situating your clothed, aching pussy straight over his outstretched hand. he hums in delight at the way your arousal immediately coats his fingertips, and teasingly presses them into you. you whimper shakily, practically keeling over as he immediately finds your throbbing clit.
“fuck,” mingyu groans. “fucking drenched. does sucking my dick make you that horny, dirty girl?” he teases, his sleepiness fading away with each passing second as your hips grind into his hand.
“y-yes gyu,” you whine. “need your cock so bad. please. please.” he chuckles at your desperation, pulling his hand away from your cunt and grabbing your hand instead and pulling you to straddle him.
“such a little slut. c’mere baby, ride my cock.”
***
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