⟢ havent written in yearss so im rusty, sorry if theyre ooc!! please reblog, like and comment if you enjoyed it really helps me! :)
(also accepting requests! sfw & nsfw so send them my way)
ps. these are LONG! under the cut <3
⟢ expect cuddles whenever physically possible - i mean this guy is the type of bf to hold your hand while youre on the toilet just bc he misses you
⟢ toki's also incredibly generous, forgiving and loving, showering you with sweet and innocent gifts and always excited to suggest cute dates together!
⟢ he loves to treat you with plushies of your favourite shows and games as well as special candy (maybe his favourite Norwegian candy so you two can bond over it?!)
⟢ at mordhaus expect board games, DDR battles and taking the lunchables away from toki before his dumbass burns them on the stove again. oh and getting super sloppy drunk in the hot tub
⟢ outside, he loves shopping with you, visiting the zoo and hanging out at yours watching shows together!
⟢ OBVIOUSLY you get free tickets to every show and has the kloketeers get you anything you want; a comfier seat? snacks? merch? booze? on it!
⟢ youll be introduced to the rest of dethklok (if you dont already know each other!) early on, about a month in - yes its intense but the man loves you and knows youre the one for him! he wants his family to love you too!
⟢ you two are definitely cheesy and theres no escaping the allegations. nathan thinks its cute and deep down just wants the little guy to be happy, murderface has to hold in his throw up and skwisgaar as already thrown up from cringe like three times. get away from skwisgaar yous twos
⟢ lets face it you two have lockets with each others pictures inside
⟢ toki is absolutely a hopeless romantic and it may have negative consequences but he definitely over romanticises relationships in a very naive way
⟢ but that doesn't mean he isn't extremely loving and caring! toki is so much so it could be considered overwhelming;
⟢ he feels safe with you so expect to see him vulnerable; you may be the person he confides in the most out of anyone he knows- this can be both good and bad! let me explain:
whenever he experiences night terrors youre the first to know, whatever is on his mind he'll bring straight to you! hes not afraid to cry on your shoulder or ask you to pet and brush his hair when he feels anxious. But because youre his no.1 confidant this also means there might be times where he unloads a lot of intense feelings onto you because he doesn't know what to do when he's experiencing side effects of trauma and stress. he doesn't do it maliciously but he doesn't see how this potentially could be overwhelming and exhausting
⟢ on the plus side, he's an amazing listener because of this. i think out of everyone in the band (besides nathan, who i'd say he's on par with), toki is least likely to get defensive or argue whenever you two disagree or need to communicate- he takes everything on board seriously because he wants to please you and make things work (hes not in this for a short time, hes in it for life)
⟢ at his core he is insanely dedicated; youll never worry about being outshined by groupies or fangirls, matter of fact once youre in the picture toki can barely tolerate touchy fans because all other people pale in comparison to his beautiful wonderful amazing partner!!
⟢ as busy and troubled as he is, hell always make time for you! if you also struggle with your health (physical or mental) hell help as much as he can. therapy? paid for. comfort items? he got them for you. your favourite/safe foods? ALWAYS stocked up in the kitchen!! need a hug? you dont even need to ask
⟢ and last but not least, he loves playing with your hair and LOOOVES when you do the same! play with his mustache, he gets so giggly. he adores how cute you are together. if you ever do his hair or corpse paint he'll never want to take it off
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
thank you for reading! im thinking of making a part 2 because i love toki sm and i have so many ideas <3
I was so excited to find your blog!! You write very well and you write for Metalocalypse!! Can I please request Toki Wartooth x a reader who is very very affectionate? Like kisses all over him, tells him how much they love him, praises him for his work (and for his body becuz GAHDAMN! Those muscles), looooves cuddles. Things like that, but you can choose which you think would be most fitting :3
Thank you!!!
A/N: Hi! Thank you for your request! I hope I characterised Toki and the reader well :) I tried to include some of Toki's freaky elements, and made the reader a bit of a freak as well. I hope you don't mind!
Sorry this took a while to finish. I've been in a writing slump, but I'm hoping I'll be able to get out of it one post at a time. Thank you for your patience, everyone!
Content Warning for: Minor gore, mentioned cannibalism (affectionate)
Oh man, he’d adore you. I imagine he’s pretty affectionate himself, so having someone who’d match his energy would increase that. In other words, he’d return your affection tenfold. If you try to combat him, he'll counter you. It’d turn into a little game. His bandmates would hate it, but their opinions don’t matter. They just hate to see a couple winning.
You both probably get cuteness aggression. Sometimes you’d be laying there, and you’d get the urge to squeeze him until his eyeballs popped out. He feels the same, of course. You'd have to hold yourself back from biting him because he’s so cute.
Sort of a tangent, but I think he’d give you the most batshit insane compliments. They’re usually about how cute you are, or how much he loves you. Except he tends to go into extreme detail. He'll always say shit like how he wants to put you in a blender and grind you up into human-paste. Maybe put you in a stew and eat you up. Or he’ll talk about how he should shrink you and trap you in a snowglobe so you’d never have to leave, keep you in his room so you can be nice and safe, maybe shake you around a little for shits and giggles.
He’d probably ace the “would you love me if I were a worm” questions. Albeit, maybe he'd be a little confused. How he’d answer would depend on how he feels. If he’s feeling spiteful he might say “no”, and tell you he’d feed you to the birds. Most of the time he’d say “yes”, though.
Going back to biting. Sometimes his muscles look so juicy, you can’t help but wonder what would happen if you bit them. Would they be hard? Soft? Tender, or rough? Perhaps a mixture of sensations?
You wouldn’t bite hard, hopefully.. Just a nibble. A love bite, if you will. You wouldn't leave a mark. Probably..
If you do bite him, he’d be confused, but kinda into it. It’d take a couple seconds for him to get over the surprise. He’d stare at you wide-eyed as his brain processed it.
He’ll bite you back, of course. It'd become a thing. You’d be cuddling, warm, happy, content, then you’d feel the wet pinch of teeth followed by the shaking of barely concealed giggles. Whether you bite him back or not is your choice. Either way, you might have created a monster.
You both probably play fight a lot. It's the natural follow-up to biting. He usually wins, but you put up a good fight! Maybe.. Sometimes he’ll let you win. Usually not. When you play fight, it’s war. Every person for themselves. After you’re both tuckered out, you’ll begrudgingly call a truce, and then cuddle. He'd tease you as the two of you drift off.
If you come up to him asking for cuddles, and he’s not doing anything, he’ll almost always agree. He loves cuddling with you. If you bury your face in his chest, or on his shoulder, he’ll wrap you in a hug. He gives the best hugs. His grip is firm, but not too firm. He’s secretly ecstatic if you initiate hugs. To him, your hugs are the best.
If it weren’t up to both of your obligations, you’d be strung around each other for most of the day. You'd probably live in each other's skin if you could.
He’d get a bit pissy if you’re affectionate to his bandmates (especially Skwisgaar). He has a bit of a jealous streak. You don’t even have to be physically affectionate—you could compliment them, and he’d feel the embers of jealousy crackling inside him.
He really likes small forms of affection like holding hands when you’re around people. It kinda plays a bit into his slightly possessive side. It shows the world your his, and his only. You’d likely know, or have an inkling of suspicion.
He likes getting compliments from you. If you tell him his playing’s great, and that he’s doing a good job, he’ll be putty in your hands. He doesn’t hear those words often, so when he does, especially from someone as important to him as you, it’s always comforting. If you compliment him while he's playing, he might fuck up a bit because of how flustered he is, even if he doesn't show it.
If you compliment his physique, like his biceps, he might get flustered. He'll pretend not to, which will make him even more flustered. If you do it while he's working out, he'll probably make a mistake. He'd try to keep his cool, he might even act like nothing happened, or pretend you didn't say anything, but his confidence would get boosted. So would his ego. He might start showing off a bit more. He may or may not start finding excuses to flex in front of you. He'd be picking something up, or grabbing something, and then, boom, he's flexing.
He may or may not develop a bit of an ego from your compliments. He’ll just rub it in his bandmates’ faces, no biggie.
In general, he likes to rub your relationship in his bandmates’ faces. He’ll play up his affectionate side when the others are around. He gets a bit more showy. Like he’ll hug/kiss you while smirking and making eye contact with one of them. He’ll get really into it. When you’re not around he’ll call them “bitchless”, and make fun of them for being single. Murderface especially. He’ll brag about you a lot as well, making sure to tell them how great you are, and how blessed he is to have you. He usually yaps the most when he's drunk.
He doesn’t really get told “I love you” often. He knows the people in his life care about him in their own, strange, way, but it’s not common for them to straight up say it. It’d feel weird to say it. Dethklok aren't the kind of guys who'd openly express those kinds of feelings towards one another. It'd be weird just thinking about it!
He'd probably be a little surprised when you first said that phrase. It felt a bit strange. It was very unexpected, and slightly unnerving. Verbal expression was not really his strong suit. It takes a bit to get used to it.
Later on in your relationship, he still doesn’t really expect you to say it. When you do he’s happy, but there's also an underlying feeling he can't name. He could hear you say it over and over again, and never get sick of it. Your words—they're like drugs to him. He can't get enough, but there's a strange twist on his spine. Like a dull wound, never fully healed, opening wider.
If you’re both about to fall asleep, and you whisper it to him, he’ll feel a complicated mix of emotions. On one hand, he's glad you can say it so easily, but on another he's hesitant. Some nights it's hard to return such words. Be patient, and give him room to acclimate.
He gets to a point where he almost always says it back. He might be a bit hesitant at first. It's a huge step. He takes a while to get to that point, but with your support he's able to.
It’s hard to hold yourself back once you start kissing him. He has a very kissable face. He looks like he’s built for love. One kiss quickly turns into a dozen. He usually waits until you're finished. Sometimes he’s quiet, other times he’ll giggle at each peppered kiss you press onto him. When he’s had enough, he’ll tell you so. Usually he rides it out until you’re done, though.
If you gift him something, like a new model set, he'd be very grateful. He’d wrap you in a strong hug, and thanking you repeatedly. He’ll eagerly get to building it, deathly quiet while you watch. If you offer commentary or talk, he might give half-assed responses. He’s listening, but he’s also concentrating.
I could see him being a fan of quality time. Hanging out in the silence of his room, both of you distracted by other things, yet basking in each other's presence nonetheless. Occasionally one of you would offer your words on something, sometimes it'd lead to conversation, other times you'd fall back into comfortable silence.
I could also see him liking massages. If you offer after a long day—when he’s noticeably tense, and a somnolent air lingers around him—he won’t say no. His muscles will visibly relax at your touch. He may find himself falling asleep.
He’ll do the same for you. If you’ve had a long day, and/or are exhausted, he’ll massage you. He might not be very good at it—he might be a bit too rough—but the offer still stands.
On nights when you’re both alone, curled up together, his back to you, you may place a kiss on his shoulder. Depending on how you both feel, you may trail them up to his neck, and to his jawline, planting each kiss with emphasis.
You can kiss every square inch of his body if you want. He wouldn’t mind. He might be a bit hesitant to kisses in certain places, like his scars, though.
If you do kiss, or trace his scars, his body might stiffen. Even if he doesn’t want to, it's a habit. He knows logically you won’t hurt him, but muscle memory says otherwise. Out of habit, he might find himself watching you out of the corner of his eye, weary, and cautious. It takes a lot of time to get to a point where you can touch his scars without his muscles going rigid.
When you’re laying together, if you wrap your limbs around him, caging him in your hold, he’ll melt. All the tension he didn’t know he had erased at such a simple movement.
AN: hello!! originally i wrote this fic ages ago in like 2023? i think? i posted it on ao3 under the same name but since im making this acc from scratch i decided to reupload it on here so there’s more traction LOL besides i want there to be an example of my writing on my acc so like yeah! again, this is old and I PROMISE my writing has gotten better LOLOL so yeah! comments & reblogs appreciated! >_<
RECAP: nathan explosion x fem! reader | after seeing you talking to skwisgaar, the swede’s smirk makes his stomach turn, a fiery pit of jealousy burning in his stomach, so he takes you back to his room to remind you that you’re his.
WARNING: nsfw! jealousy sex, skwisgaar is an opp kinda but it’s okay cuz nathan dicks you down lol, pussy eating cuz idc if he doesn’t like eating pussy he does to me ok.. he slaps you but like it’s a sexual way like you’re getting off to it.. breeding, mating press, idk what else i didn’t read through it bc it’s so old and ill die LOL
His eyes narrowed as he watched you from across the party. There you stood, talking happily to Skwisgaar, laughing along to whatever he was telling you.
Taking a sip from his beer, Nathan grunted, an uncomfortable hot feeling filled his chest. He had been trying to suppress the feeling all night long. Unconsciously, he knew that you weren’t flirting with Skwisgaar, you had no reason to be. But somehow, his blood boiled from jealousy as the minutes ticked by.
It annoyed him, Skwisgaar could be talking to any of the other groupie sluts in this god forsaken party, yet there he was. Talking to you.
His girlfriend.
It pissed him off, what the fuck were you thinking? He could see Skwisgaar staring you down, with his height, Nathan could see the way his gaze focused on your chest and how good that cocktail dress looked on you.
He hated how Skwisgaar had a smirk curled on his lips as his eyes were lidded, it was like he was trying to seduce you. It reminded Nathan of all the failed dates he’s had before because of his dildo band mates throwing themselves at them.
But this was different, you were his partner . Not some first date, not some woman that would bend over for the slightest hint of attention the rest of the band gave you.
Looking away, Nathan scoffed as he leaned back against the couch was was sitting on, taking a few hefty gulps of his beer, hoping the alcohol would hit sooner.
Nathan tried to clear his head, repeating to himself that he didn’t have to worry. He didn’t need to be jealous, you were just being friendly with Skwisgaar, besides just the night before he had you babbling like a brain dead slut over his cock.
Skwisgaar couldn’t compare.
Yeah, he couldn’t compare. Nathan thought, taking another long sip from his beer, effectively emptying the bottle. Glancing back at the two of you, Nathan’s heart rate spiked at the sight.
Skwisgaar had his arm wrapped around your shoulder, holding you close, way too close as he talked. If he would’ve held the beer bottle any tighter it would’ve shattered in his hand.
That was his last straw, he was practically seeing red. If he didn’t work with Skwisgaar he would’ve started a fight right there, instead, he stood up abruptly and walked over to the two of you. Taking long and fast strides, he was quick to reach your side, placing his hand on the small of your back.
You had just been laughing at a joke Skwisgaar had thrown, something about some fan that had tried to climb onto the stage when he did his solo. It was lively and oddly enough, the Swede was humorous when he wasn’t boasting about his guitar skills. Just then, you felt a large hand land on your back, you laugh stopped and you glanced to your side. Expecting some random person, but instead you saw Nathan.
A smile was quick to appear on your face, but Nathan wasn’t looking at you. Instead, he was looking, or more so glaring, at Skwisgaar, you didn’t notice his intense glare though.
“Nathan! Skwisgaar was just telling me some fan stories, they’re crazy!” You said happily, leaning into his touch. His green gaze finally moved down to you, he grunted in reply. “Uh, yeah.” He grumbled, sliding his hand to your hip and pulling you close to his chest.
“..Yeahs, those dildoes ams crazies.” Skwisgaar added, his gaze focused on Nathan, the glare he shot him was hard to ignore. Scowling, Skwisgaar let out a grunt, “Anyways..amsts goings to goes.” Skwisgaar said, Nathan squeezed your hip.
At the Swede’s words, you pouted, but didn’t press further. “Okay! I’ll talk to you later, I had fun!” You said with a warm smile, waving at Skwisgaar as he walked away, not having issues with finding another woman to talk to.
Now, it was just you and Nathan.
Looking back up at Nathan, you noticed how his jaw was clenched and his gaze followed Skwisgaar, as if making sure he was actually gone. Raising your eyebrow, you nudged him. “Nathan?” Barely sparing you a glance, Nathan squeezed your hip. “This party is boring, let’s go.” He grunted, taking your wrist and practically pulling you away.
You didn’t have space to argue, so you followed.
Walking down the long hallways of Mordhaus felt like an eternity, while you two walked, Nathan’s grip on your hand was firm and rather tight.
There was a tense silence between the two, you had tried to start some sort of conversation about the party, but you made the mistake of bringing up Skwisgaar. In turn it made Nathan scowl and go quiet, you did notice how he squeezed your hand more at the mention of the Swede.
After what felt like forever, you two finally arrived to Nathan’s bedroom.
“What’s up with you?” You asked, sitting at the edge of Nathan’s ridiculously large bed. You weren’t an idiot and it was clear that he was annoyed, angry maybe?
Walking over, Nathan pushed you down onto the bed, “Nothing.” He grumbled, towering over you.
“Nothing?” You hummed, letting your legs spread to accommodate him, did he think you were dumb? With a smile, you hummed, “You’re being extra brooding, what happened?” You pressed.
Nathan slipped on top of you, both of his hands landing next to your head. “Nothing. Shut up.” He replied, his long hair falling and framing his face, with that, he pressed his lips against yours.
The pace was quick and sloppy, a bit of force behind it too, but you didn’t mind.
Moaning into his mouth, you moved your hand and gripped his shoulder, after a few seconds he pulled away. Letting you catch your breath while he went down and started pressing kisses down your neck.
The kisses were open mouthed, his tongue pressing against your skin before he sucked.
With your small cocktail dress, it had a plunged neck line. It was black and it hugged your curves nicely, your chest was exposed so Nathan had lots of space to lick and mark.
Whining, you could feel his lips against your collarbone, sucking on your skin, making sure to leave a visible hickey.
That way, Skwisgaar could see that you belonged to him.
“Mm..Nathan.” You moaned softly, your legs loosely wrapping around his hips. A rumbling groan left Nathan’s lips, one that came from deep down in his chest.
The way you moaned his name made his head spin and his blood surged down to his crotch, his jeans applying pressure to his hardening cock. Making him feel suffocated.
“Fuck.” He grunted, moving back, his hands gripped the neckline of your dress. It was plunged and brought out your tits nicely, being held up by some meek spaghetti straps. With a rough yank, Nathan pulled the dress down, exposing your tits.
They bounced at the force, you yelped as the cold hair hit your breast. Your nipples perking up quickly, “Nathan! This dress was expensive!” You squealed, instinctively covering your chest.
“And? I’ll buy you a new one.” He grunted, shooting you a glare before moving your arms away and latching his mouth to one of your perky nipples.
You were about to complain, but the warm feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple made you moan softly instead.
Nathan grew eager with his tongue, alternating between both nipples and leaving hickies. His hand slipped down to your thigh, his rough fingers slipping up your dress, pulling the skirt up.
His fingers pressed against your underwear, toying with your clothed clit, making your body twitch, “N-Nathan!” You stammered.
Nathan’s gaze fell on your face, pulling away and standing at the edge of the bed, his hands hooked under your knees and yanked you forward. Leaving you lying against the edge of the bed, Nathan was quick to roughly pull down your panties, not even caring enough to take them completely off, they just stayed hooked on your right ankle.
Dropping down to his knees, Nathan made space between your legs, you shivered as his hot breath fanned against your soaked cunt.
“Nathan..”
You mewled, you weren’t sure what had him this filed up. A sharp gasp left your lips as you felt his flat tongue against your cunt, licking from your slit up to your clit.
Your hips squirmed, Nathan was never a big fan of eating pussy, so this had your brain fuzzy. In Nathan’s mind, his only goal was to outshine Skwisgaar.
He’s heard stories about the Swede, about how he gives the best head to whichever woman is lucky enough to receive it. Nathan wanted to mentally prove to you that he too could give you great head.
It’s not like you ever doubted that, but still.
This was all mental for him.
Rolling his tongue in a circular motion against your sensitive clit, your breathing was breathy and whiny. Fuck, he was good.
Your thighs struggled to stay open and accommodating to the fact your boyfriend was eating you out, but Nathan didn’t care. In fact, as your thighs squeezed his head, his hands held the outside of your thighs, keeping your legs locked around his head.
All you could do was moan shakily, whimper out his name, and roll your hips up. Thrusting up to try and keep his face pressed against your cunt.
Nathan made it his job to have his nose pressed against your clit whenever his tongue messed with your insides, but also alternating between sucking on your clit while his fingers slipped inside your cunt, curling up and pressing on your sensitive spot.
While his tongue pressed and lapped up your clit, Nathan moaned against your pussy. Hearing you whine and cry his name was making his ego grow as much as the bulge in his pants.
So much so, that while he kept sucking and licking, his hand slipped down to his pants. He palmed his bulge, groaning in need.
He wanted to fuck you so fucking bad.
He could feel his cock throb against his pants, but before shoving his cock into you, he wanted to have you cum on his tongue. A need to taste your slick made his movements more eager.
Luckily, it wasn’t long before a bundle of nerves began to build in the bottom of your stomach. Your hand came to push his head down, gripping his long black hair tightly.
Your hips kept rolling against his face, begging for friction. You gasped and whined, your cunt feeling sensitive, the feeling was too much. His flat tongue makes it hard to keep your composure, “M’cummin!” You weeped, rolling your head back as your thighs squeezed his head.
Nathan’s nails dug into your plush skin, devouring your pretty cunt.
The knot that had built up was getting tighter and tighter, to the point you couldn’t hold back. With a sharp moan, the knot snapped and a wave of ecstasy washed over you.
Your back arched and your thighs remained clamped against Nathan’s head while you tugged on his hair, struggling to catch your breath as your hips kept pressing against his mouth to ride out your orgasm.
Nathan’s sharp gaze focused on you, watching as your body twitched and trembled under his touch.
Finally, your body relaxed. Moving your legs, you spread your legs and your body practically went limp. Your head rolled back, your eyes slipping shut as your legs occasionally twitched. “..Fuck.” You gasped.
Nathan pulled back and he stood back up.
You still laid on the edge of the bed, your tits exposed and your skirt pulled up to your stomach, your glistening cunt exposed to the eyes of your lover.
Nathan stood at the end of the bed, watching you hungrily as his hands slipped down and quickly undid his pants, his hands practically trembling.
You watched as he did so, he was quick with his movements. Eager even, with ease he dropped his pants and his cock sprung out. It was throbbing, standing tall in all its glory, precum coating the tip.
The sight of his cock made your stomach turn, filling with butterflies. You practically drooled, Nathan wrapped his hand around his shaft, pumping his cock over and over, groaning softly as he did so.
Taking a hold of your knees, Nathan pulled your body closer to the edge, holding you up for easier access to your cunt.
You gulped, Nathan’s cock prodding your cunt, teasing you. With a whine, your eyebrows furrowed. “You’re soaked.” Nathan groaned, his face flushed as he felt your slick coating his cock. “Stop teasing!” You cried, needing his fat cock to stuff your cunt.
Nathan adjusted his position, spitting on his fingers before rubbing the spit down his thick shaft, mixing it with his precum.
Without proper warning, Nathan shoved his cock past your cunt. Stretching your walls to make space for his girthy cock. A loud cry left your lips at the feeling, your own cries mixing with Nathan’s guttural groan.
The feeling of your warm walls wrapping around his cock, hugging him snuggly, made his cock throb. Your cunt was slick and welcoming.
He adjusted your legs to be wrapped around his hips and his hands held your hips, nails digging into his skin. Pulling your hips back, Nathan pulled his cock back and then shoved back in.
Thrusting his hips, Nathan pounded into your cunt.
Your body bounced against the bed due to his brute force, your hands gripped the bedsheets desperately as your moaned, a string of babbles and curses slipped past your lips.
What has gotten into him?
Your tits bounced freely, the sound of skin slapping was loud, his heavy balls pounding against your ass.
In Nathan’s mind, the egocentric thought of ‘ Skwisgaar couldn’t fuck her like this ’ was taking over his mind, watching as your face contorted in bliss, the way your eyes rolled back and shut, and not to mention the whiny cries that left your lips, it was filling his jealous ego and making his thrusts become harsher.
You could handle it.
Stopping his thrusts, Nathan stayed nuzzled deep inside your cunt. Roughly, he grabbed the back of your thighs and pushed your legs snug against your chest.
He had you folded into a mating press, the new position made your eyes widen, before you could even get a word out, Nathan pulled back and slammed back in.
“N-Nathan!” You cried, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he put his weight down on each thrust. The angle making it easy for Nathan’s cock to repeatedly hit the spongy spot inside you that has your brain melting.
Babbling, you couldn’t produce a coherent sentence, all you could do was struggle to talk as your brain gave out.
Nathan was doubled over you, his thrusts filled with a hard force, he had you folded and he wasn’t letting you move. He was grunting and groaning, those noises coming deep from his chest.
You’re the best pussy he’s ever fucking had.
He was practically drooling, the way your cunt fluttered around his shaft, clenching down while you mewled. It was like a fucking drug, shots of electrifying pleasure coursed through his body, making him shiver.
Moving one of your legs over his shoulder, Nathan moved his hand and wrapped it around your delicate neck. His large hand squeezing around your neck. His nails digging down against your neck, biting your lip, lidded eyes stared at Nathan as he squeezed.
“God, you’re such a fucking slut.” Nathan grunted, landing particularly harder thrusts inside you, making you moan like a horny slut, just like Nathan said.
His mind was clouded, the mental image of you smiling and laughing at whatever the fuck that Swede told you fueled his anger and frustration.
Nathan let out a noise, one very similar to an animalistic growl, “Fucking greedy for attention.” He rambled, “Hanging on the arm of some dildo and for what?” He groaned, “Laughing at some, uh, stupid stories like a groupie slut.” Nathan squeezed.
You whined, your eyes fluttering shut, his words barely registered.
“But you know that no one can fuck you like this.” Nathan growled, watching as you nodded your head desperately. “..No one can have you acting like a brainless slut,” He moaned, “Nobody but me.” He practically snarled, still pounding into your squelching pussy.
You could only nod, struggling to even muster up a vocal reply that wasn’t a moan or gasp.
Nathan didn’t like that, he wanted to hear you say it.
Stopping his thrusts, Nathan narrowed his eyes, you whined; you didn’t want him to stop! Nathan moved his hand and with a swift motion, he gave you a slap across the face.
Fuck.
A moan of pleasure from the sting left your lips, “C’mon, say it.” Nathan growled, his voice guttural and deep. His eyebrows furrowed, feeling your pussy clench around him after he slapped you, of course you liked that.
Your brain was melted, lidded eyes glanced at Nathan, a fucked out smile coming to your lips.
“..N-No one can fuck me like you can, Nathan.” You said, smiling like a fucked out slut, your words made Nathan’s chest fill with pride. Yeah, that’s right.
“Fuck.” He muttered to himself, that was hot. Really fucking hot, gripping the bottom of your thighs again, Nathan plunged back into your cunt.
That familiar knot from before was coming back, your body felt hot, a thin sheet of sweat was covering your skin as well as Nathan’s.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you cried. “M’so c—close!” You stammered, your eyes shutting tight as your head rolled back to the side.
Nathan shut his eyes too, focusing on his thrusts and his own pleasure, he gripped your thighs tightly, enough that it would bruise in the morning.
His balls felt heavy, a similar knot filling in his stomach, the primal urge to shove his cum deep down inside your greedy cunt making his mind run wild.
With a long cry, you came. The climax hit you hard, your back arched and your toes curled, one of your heels slipping off as your legs trembled.
Babbling out curses, you sobbed. The pleasure was too much, it was overwhelming for your body, Nathan’s thrusts had gotten sloppy.
“God, fuck .” He groaned, your walls squeezing down on his cock, as if you were milking his cock. His thrusts were heavy and uneven as he desperately chased his orgasm, your walls fluttering as your body trembled from overstimulation.
It didn’t take long for Nathan’s climax to hit, pressing your thighs against your chest, he pressed his body down. Placing his body weight on top of your smaller body. His balls tightened and his cock twitched, his cum coming out in hot spurts.
It was thick and milky, staining your walls and filling you up to the brim.
His body was pressed above you, his head nuzzled into your shoulder as he panted and grunted. Breathing heavily as he slowly thrusted, riding out his orgasm.
There you two laid, sweaty and fucked out.
Nathan’s cock stayed nuzzled inside your cunt as it softened, your arms lazily wrapped stood his neck, holding him tightly against you.
Nathan let go of your legs, letting them relax, you moved them and lazily wrapped them around his waist, savoring the feeling of his large body resting on top of you.
Can you do Skwisgaar x Reader enemies to lovers style?
Skwisaar Skwigelf x Reader : Enemies to Lovers
a/n at the end!
no warnings, just alcohol consumption. no use of y/n
gender neutral (reader is a guitar player !)
“Seriously?!” you exclaim, nearly jumping up from your seat.
“That’s correct,” your stoic-expressioned band manager responds. “You’ll open for Dethklok on a tour spanning 6 months and travelling across the globe. I’m sure I don’t have to explain how important this will be for the band, and your individual careers.”
You’re nearly giddy at the prospects. With the fame and fortune amassed by Dethklok, such an opportunity is nearly a godsend for your prospects. Your band had a decent following, but had recently hit a plateau in gaining traction in the music industry. You could finally see a light: the opportunity for a big break had fallen neatly into your lap, the label on the package reading ‘Dethklok’.
As your band’s manager further explains the details, you fall into your own flurry of thoughts and further away from the discussion being had by the rest of the band. You’d heard plenty of stories about the members of the infamous band. While you admired their musicianship, you couldn’t help but wrinkle your nose at their more… distasteful behaviours. Public stunts, drunken or drug-fueled bender antics, unrest, violence and chaos. All of which was neatly squared away behind their wall of fame and a mass hoard of wealth. Not to mention the sexual deviance, groupies entering and exiting Mordhaus in droves and typically at the behest of one man. The idea disgusted you: the famed guitarist using his power to compel the hearts and bodies of thousands, who are quickly discarded afterwards. You feel a disdain for Skwisgaar Skwigelf as a guitarist yourself. Can a person be so skilled at the instrument to have people collapsing at his feet at all hours? Is he even so great at all?
In what feels like a blink of time, you’re boarding a tour bus with Dethklok, having spoken with them only in pleasantries thus far. Skwisgaar had taken your hand, bowing and kissing your ring finger with a smirk. You withdrew quickly with a scowl, but he didn’t even look at you: instead opting to gloat in the direction of his bandmates.
You settle your things in an open bed space, silently cursing your manager’s ‘draw straws’ method of deciding who will bunk with whom. The Swedish guitarist you had the misfortune of being paired with lies languidly on the couch, fingers flying over the strings of his custom Explorer. He stops playing, setting the guitar down beside him and propping himself up on his elbow.
“Why ares you alls the ways over theres?” he asks teasingly, and you tense.
“Comes heres,” he inquires again, his voice deep and breathy.
“No,” you respond defiantly after a moment, crossing your arms and turning to face him fully.
“No?” he repeats, dumbfounded.
“No. I’m not some plaything for you to mess around with. I’m a musician too, a guitarist at that. Also, we’ll be working together. I suggest you treat me with a little more dignity than one of your damn groupies,” you growl, shoving your headphones on and climbing into bed, slamming the curtain rod shut in one clean motion. You don’t see the Swede clench his fist, gritting his teeth in seething anger and humiliation at being rejected.
Over the next few weeks, you come to realize something. Skwisgaar is petty. Extremely petty. Every communication, even when essential, is met with some trivial insult besides a vague acknowledgement. He interrupted and spoke over you at meetings, and smugly reveled in any downfall of yours, no matter how inconsequential. You aren’t proud to admit it, but you quickly began to return in kind, wanting to stand up for yourself. You don’t even bother to stick around for Dethklok’s performances after yours, instead heading straight back to the bus or to a bar to get some time to yourself. If he’s going to behave so immaturely, he doesn’t deserve your acknowledgment of his guitar skills.
When you finally do listen to their playing, it isn’t all that willingly. One of your bandmates had absolutely insisted, claiming they’d ‘never heard live music so compelling’. You figured since Skwisgaar isn’t the only member of the band, and he’d never know if you stuck around backstage or not if you were quick about it, you may as well. As you step off the stage and walk back to the dressing room, Dethklok passes you. Skwisgaar looks down his nose at you with a smirk. Instead of challenging or antagonizing him like you usually do, you simply avert your eyes and keep walking. Today’s performance was harsh on you, with technology malfunctions and on-stage miscommunication. You’d nearly tripped over the bass player’s wire, and were just about ready to pack it in for the week. By the time you stepped off stage, your exhaustion had carried you back to the closest rest area: the dressing room. Flopping onto the couch (after having swept off a slew of beer cans and bottles), you switch on the main stage monitor. You barely have the energy to groan at the camera’s immediate focus on the blonde guitarist, but bear it anyway. Your breath truly leaves you, however, when he starts playing. The intro to the song is slow at first, quickly ramping up to highlight Skwisgaar’s spirited guitar playing. You watch the screen in amazement as his fingers glide effortlessly over the neck and down the body of the guitar. Throughout their performance, you see none of the bravado you’d grown so accustomed to. His typical smirk is gone, replaced with a solemn expression of focus. You’re almost impressed by his dedication to the guitar, completely ignoring groupies taking their tops off and throwing things at the stage. None of it seems to faze the blonde, and he continues to play with ease.
You jump up as their last song ends, not wanting to be seen by the guitarist. You’re stopped short by your bandmate, who begs you to join them and Dethklok for a leisurely night of drinks and merriment.
You’d been hoping that the alcohol would give you the courage to be honest with Skwisgaar about what you thought of his performance, but you’re three drinks in and still can’t look him in the eye. The members of Dethklok have already drunk a lot: Toki and Murderface in a heated debate about something inconsequential, and Nathan and Pickles having a lively drinking contest with a few of your bandmates. You sit in awkward silence next to Skwisgaar, staring into your drink and wishing it’d magically give you the right words to say to the guitarist. From the corner of your eye, you see him sip his with a placid disinterest. Something in the scene compels you to remain quiet.
It’s been a while since everyone but you and Skwisgaar dispersed. Moving off and splitting into one group or another, musicians were set sprawling across hotel rooms and parking lots. You and Skwisgaar sit in the same spots you started out in, silently sipping respective beers. Your head is almost spinning, but you’re not quite there yet. Luckily, though, you think it just might be enough.
“You played well,” you say, not very loudly but loud enough to be audible to him.
He stays quiet for a moment, taking another sip.
“Thank yous,” he responds in kind, before taking a breath. “Yous too.”
You’re stunned for a brief moment before the alcohol takes over your tongue.
“You listened?”
“Everys nights,” he responds in thick Swedish timbre.
Your brain can’t quite catch up to your mouth as you speak.
“Why?”
He stalls temporarily, his expression puzzled.
“Yous ams a good player. Whys would I not?”
You could laugh. Instead, you take another swig.
“You think so?”
You turn to him, and the halfhearted smirk dies on your lips when you look into his wintery eyes. His features are still and solemn. Cliché as it is, you lose yourself in his eyes, examining every speck and transition of color. He stares at you just as intently. You don’t realize how close the two of you are until his breath dusts your warming cheeks. He glances down, his eyes slipping closed. You feel your eyelids get heavier, and your lips touch his. They’re soft and much gentler than you expected based on what you’d heard about the guitarist. He takes his time finishing the kiss, giving you a soft smile you’d never have expected from the Swede. He stands, taking your hand gently to guide you out of the cramped room and back to your tour bus. You can’t help but feel giddy, knowing you’ll be spending the next 5 months together with Skwisgaar.
A/N:
Thanks for your request, it's my first! Enemies to lovers is something I've never written before, so forgive me if it isn't the best! I always feel like it's difficult to come with convincing/compelling reasons that characters would go from hating each other to loving each other, particularly with such specific/particular characters such as the guitar god himself. I figured the best way is to exploit his guitar prowess! Hopefully it was suitable :) thank you for reading!
depending on how im feeling after posting this i think i might make a second part including side characters (likely the second post will contain charles abigail and knubbler !! and maybe even some smaller characters that i feel deserve more love)
anyways uhuhuh first official MTL post except it.. actually isnt, ive written for knubbler and the dethklok minute host before so
yeah
very nervous about this since im still trying to find my footing in how i wanna write the characters, so heads up that this might be VERY OOC
and what better prompt to do than do one of my "i dont know what to write" ones
written with reader as their partner
vague mentions of like. sexual stuff but nothing explicit, i still wish to keep this blog as sfw as possible, really just implications of it than anything
also some characters had bonus hcs of cuddling so uhuhuh
NATHAN:
built like a mattress, though that can mean anything since not all mattresses are made the same... hmm.. have you ever hugged/cuddled one of those tiny headed kingdom plushies? very firm but not comfortable, i think thats what nathan feels like, but perhaps just a smidge softer. but how would nathan feel? i mean hes very protective of you, and being able to hold you gives him a moment to keep you close. not very affectionate otherwise, but this is nice. definitely the type to do hugs from behind, especially if theres someone trying to flirt with you
PICKLES:
short so theres a good chance youre around his height if not taller and he may or may not feel things about that (both negative and positive but lets save that for another post as i fully intend on keeping this sfw), i always thought pickles of being physically affectionate so him having a hand on you is a common occurrence. probably takes the opportunity to whisper something in your ear, usually something dirty or something incoherent with him being drunk or otherwise under the influence. oh yeah i can easily see him being the type to swing his limbs over his partner while he sleeps and trapping them there
SKWISGAAR:
maybe im cooking something doodoo, but i feel like skwisgaar may or may not struggle with non-sexual stuff, like being purely romantic and innocent with no intent to get your pants off is foreign to him. i whole heartedly believe the reason hes so sexual is due to being in dethklok and being huge, but also because of his mother constantly bringing new people home. so in the beginning he might actually be tense in giving you affection, definitely going to need to take some time. very cold, skinny people tend to be colder ive noticed so totally you shouldnt take this as an excuse to hold him closer (winks)... i DO think he would also have a hand on you a lot of the time like pickles, whether or not those hands have other motives is up in the air
MURDERFACE:
make him take a shower first/j
okay jokes aside, this man is so starved for attention and affection, but he would never ever EVER say it. you guys could be 100% fully alone in bum fuck no where and he still wouldnt say it. but its definitely there in his actions and body language. i think hes warm, and his skin is a little... i mean he canonically has dry skin with eczema, and while i dont have eczema i know what having that dry scaly skin feels like... perhaps we could tie in some self care with the reader helping murderface take better care of himself? i mean it would be one hell of a fight to get him to try but i think its do-able.. tight hugger, kind of lets his arms linger before sliding them down when you eventually pull away. wish i had more but i think murderface is the type to deny affection whilst also deeply craving it
TOKI:
probably the easiest to hug in terms of getting him to accept it, actually i think he might be the most likely to initiate one alongside pickles. very warm, though he sometimes hugs you a little too tight and might even tug you back in if you try to pull away before hes ready. full body cuddles into you when you guys sleep/nap together, arms and legs keep you in place so... good luck trying to slip away before he wakes up. i like to think he fiddles with your hair, too, though im unsure if that fits with his character... i think that, despite still having a love for all things brutal he still likes these smaller moments of just. affection. very clingy and possessive though so keep that in mind, i think he would hold you and physically try to pull you away if someone tries to flirt with you; a lot less subtle than when nathan does it
hiya !! this is a bit of an odd request but is there any chance you'd be willing to write pickles x reader , where the reader has shied away from alcohol / substances all their life until they start embracing them after becoming close with pickles ? all good if not , thank you and have a great day !! o7
Oooh i kinda adore this trope ngl. keep coming with these bangers im so excited!
Only With You
Summary: Dethklok's newest babysitter has been observed to be quite the dildo. They never want to drink with them, smoke, or generally party with them in a significant way. Pickles opens his own investigation into them and starts to genuinely enjoy the time they spend alone. Maybe he'll lower their walls, and open them to some new mind-altering experiences.
Warning: obvious drug and alcohol use, as a general pot user I'm going to be as specific as possible. I'm going to make this as fluffy as possible but there might be some suggestive content. Reader has they/them pronouns
Word count: 2345
"What are you? Schome kind of fucking schquare?" Murderface quipped, a mischievous glint in his eye as he nudged Nathan playfully.
"Yeah, come on, don't be a dildo," Nathan retorted, his deep voice rumbling with frustration as he batted Will away from him.
Their banter filled the cramped bar, the air heavy with the scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting a dim glow on the worn-out furniture and peeling wallpaper.
As the tension between Murderface and Nathan escalated, Toki attempted to intervene, his gentle voice drowned out by Skwisgaar's disdainful remarks about both of them being a "lady dildos." The atmosphere grew increasingly tense, their argument blending with the other patrons' raucous laughter and clinking glasses.
Feeling overwhelmed, y/n glanced around the bar, a headache forming from the noise. Just as they were about to suggest leaving, Pickles came to the rescue, a mischievous smirk on his lips.
"I know a quiet spot; let's dip while they're distracted," Pickles suggested, his voice low and inviting. The air was heavy with the scent of cigarette smoke and distant laughter, creating a hazy ambiance that enveloped them both.
Y/n hesitated, a flicker of concern crossing their features. "I don't know, Charles might kill me for leaving them by themselves," they replied, their voice tinged with uncertainty.
Pickles waved off their concern with a casual shrug. "He'll get over it as long as they don't drive. Then again, they wouldn't leave without me. So therefore, we can hang out in a cool alleyway while they drink themselves to the ground."
With a sigh, y/n bit their lip, their mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Despite their hesitation, the allure of escape beckoned, tempting them to leave the chaos of the bar behind.
After much internal debate, y/n finally nodded and walked with Pickles into the alley. It was nothing spectacular, but the relative quietness offered a welcome respite from the clamor of the bar. The cool wind brushed against their skin, causing goosebumps to rise on their arms.
"So uh...this is where you run off to when they get loud," y/n remarked, their breath forming wispy clouds in the frosty air. "Shoulda known to check the alley."
"Aww, you look for me?" Pickles teased, his voice laced with amusement as he pulled a joint from his pocket.
Y/n watched in awe as Pickles took a long drag, the smoke swirling around him like a halo. The air was thick with the scent of cannabis, earthy and pungent, mingling with the sharp bite of the night air.
"For as much as you brag about being rich, you think your lighter could use an upgrade?" y/n teased, their voice laced with amusement.
"Eh... this lighter and I have a history," Pickles chuckled softly, leaning against the cold brick wall. "I smoked my first ever blunt with this Zippo... would you believe I stole it from my dad?"
As Pickles continued to talk about other crazy stories, y/n found themselves drawn in by his easy charm and effortless charisma. They watched as his fingers traced over the worn metal, the flickering flame casting dancing shadows on the alley wall.
"Yeah...I believe it," y/n replied, their voice soft with admiration. "So you've been smoking a long time, huh?"
"For as long as I can remember, y'know, before I got into the other shit," Pickles admitted, nudging a crate beside him. "You've been standing a while; you should sit."
Their body moved instinctively, gravitating towards Pickles as they settled onto the crate beside him. With a sigh of relief, y/n felt the tension begin to melt away, replaced by a sense of calmness in Pickles' presence.
The silence between them was almost palpable, the only sound the soft rustle of the wind and the occasional clink of cans on the ground. Despite their attempts to enjoy the tranquility, y/n couldn't shake the nagging feeling of restlessness that gnawed at their mind.
"Wow..." they laughed awkwardly, their fingers fidgeting with their sleeves. "A whole five minutes without being asked to partake...must be a new record."
"No sense in pushing it; it's a waste of good pot," Pickles remarked casually, his demeanor relaxed and nonchalant. "Besides, the first high will be shit if you don't know what you're getting into."
Y/n nodded in agreement, their gaze drifting down to their hands. "You just make it look so easy..."
Pickles tilted his head, the crimson strands of his hair falling over his shoulder as he regarded y/n with a knowing smile. "Make what look easy?"
"Everything!" y/n blurted out, their words tumbling out in a rush of emotion. "Just...everything you do is effortless. You make it look so easy to talk to people and operate under pressure like nothing affects you. I want to relax, and I want the rest of the band to like me...and I shouldn't be rambling right now, but it's like I can't stop myself because my brain just won't—"
"Shut up?" Pickles interrupted gently.
Y/n blushed brightly, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "S-sorry..."
"No...like your brain just won't shut up? I get it. Hell, why do you think I smoke this stuff?" Pickles reassured them, nudging them with his shoulder. "It's not easy being so laid back; it takes practice."
"Practice?" y/n echoed, their curiosity piqued.
Pickles nodded, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Gotta practice not worrying what other people think. I'm fucking famous; who cares what nobody at the bar has to say? It's vain, I know, but it works. It's easy to be friends with people when you can shut off that little nag in the back of your head. You just have to stop assuming people are out to get you."
Y/n nodded in understanding, their thoughts swirling as they absorbed Pickles' words of wisdom. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, the silence punctuated only by the soft sound of their laughter and the occasional drag of the joint. Despite the cold, y/n felt a warmth spreading through them, a sense of peace settling over their troubled mind.
As they sat side by side, y/n couldn't help but admire Pickles' easygoing demeanor and the way he seemed to effortlessly navigate through life's challenges. For a moment, they forgot about their worries and insecurities, lost in the simple pleasure of his company.
And as they took a hesitant puff of the joint, feeling the smoke fill their lungs and the tension melting away, y/n realized that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.
Their eyes wandered over Pickles, taking in every detail with an almost reverent appreciation. Each freckle, every smile line, and the faint scars that adorned his skin told a story of a life well-lived, adding to his allure in the dimly lit alleyway. Despite the chill in the air, the warmth emanating from Pickles enveloped them, comforting and reassuring like a soft embrace.
As they sat there, a thought lingered in their mind: why was everything about him just so perfect? His casual demeanor, his effortless charm—it all seemed to come naturally to him, effortlessly captivating those around him.
Caught off guard by Pickles' quizzical expression, y/n felt a blush creep into their cheeks as they realized they had been caught staring. But Pickles' playful demeanor quickly put them at ease, his snicker breaking the tension that hung in the air.
"You see something you like?" he cheesed lightly, dramatically waggling his brows.
"No- I mean yes- I mean- shit.... uh-"
"Relax, I'm messing with you," Pickles chuckled, his voice laced with amusement. "I gotta teach you how to flirt."
"Heh...um, actually, I was maybe wondering if I could try..." y/n trailed off, their gaze flickering towards the burning joint in Pickles' hand.
"Holy shit, you actually wanna smoke with me?" Pickles exclaimed, genuine surprise coloring his tone.
"Well...kinda. Maybe it won't be so overwhelming if it's with you..." y/n admitted, their nerves beginning to dissipate in Pickles' reassuring presence.
"I'll take care of ya, don't worry," Pickles reassured them, passing the dutchie with a gentle hand. "Don't try to show off, ok? Baby hits..."
After calming their shaking hands, y/n carefully placed the joint between their lips, their senses heightened as they inhaled deeply. The taste was harsh, earthy, and unfamiliar, causing their shoulders to tense with each choppy cough.
"Deep breath. You're gonna choke no matter what, you got virgin lungs. 'S normal," Pickles reassured them, his voice gentle and reassuring.
"It tastes like dirt..." y/n grimaced, their discomfort evident in their expression.
"Well, it's weed; it's gonna taste bad," Pickles shrugged, his easygoing demeanor soothing y/n's nerves. "Take one more, then pass it back."
With a nod of determination, y/n took another deep breath, the smoke swirling around them in ethereal patterns. Despite the initial discomfort, a sense of calm washed over them, easing the tension in their shoulders and allowing them to relax fully in Pickles' company.
Pickles extinguished the joint with a flick of his wrist, the ember sputtering out as he tucked the carton back into his pocket. Leaning back against the cool brick wall, he regarded Y/n with a curious expression.
"So, short stuff, how do you feel?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine interest.
Y/n raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in their eyes. "You're one to talk," they scoffed, a small smile playing at their lips. "I feel…slow, but in a good way. Like, I can finally think clearly, funnily enough."
"Yeah?" Pickles raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Yeah...is this how you feel constantly?" y/n returned the question, genuinely curious about Pickles' experience.
"More or less," Pickles snorted, kicking around some cans on the ground with a lazy gesture.
"I could get used to this," y/n mused, a sense of contentment settling over them like a warm blanket. "It feels…easier to talk as if a barrier was temporarily moved to the storage room of my brain. This is nice. Thanks, Pickles."
"Hey, any time," Pickles replied, a genuine smile gracing his features. "You remind me a lot about myself, actually."
Y/n tilted their head curiously, they scooted closer to Pickles, craving his warmth in the chilly night air.
"How so?" they asked, their voice soft and curious.
Pickles paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he considered his response. "I used to worry about how everyone perceived me," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I was always so…strung up, like the world was out to get me."
He chuckled softly, the sound rough and raspy in the stillness of the alley. "I know I'm nothing but a pampered, rich airhead," he admitted, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet y/n's eyes. "But I know this job keeping us out of trouble isn't exactly the easiest. If no one else is on your team, you can relax knowing that the world's best drummer is."
Y/n felt a flutter in their chest, their cheeks flushing as they met Pickles' gaze in the dim lighting. His words were simple, yet they held a profound depth of meaning that resonated with them.
"Pickles, I—" they started, their words catching in their throat as they struggled to articulate the whirlwind of emotions. They leaned away slightly, suddenly self-conscious about intruding on his personal space.
But before they could retreat too far, Pickles grinned cheesily, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "Geez…you really are the coolest," they blurted out, a shy smile tugging at the corners of their lips.
Pickles' grin widened, his laughter echoing off the walls of the alley. "You think?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.
The air between them crackled with anticipation as y/n struggled to find the right words, their gaze locked with Pickles' in an unspoken exchange of longing and desire. In that moment, everything else faded away—the noise of the city, the chill of the night air—leaving only the two of them, suspended in time.
Pickles waited with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he silently urged y/n to speak their truth. He could see the turmoil in their eyes, the raw vulnerability laid bare, and he felt a surge of tenderness wash over him.
Finally, y/n took a deep breath, their voice trembling slightly as they found the courage to voice their feelings. "Everything about you has always been cool," they began, their words soft and hesitant. "I wish I could say I was jealous, but…I don't think that's it."
A flicker of understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken attraction that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. Pickles' heart soared with a newfound sense of hope, his gaze never wavering from y/n's as he silently encouraged them to continue.
"Oh?" he prompted, his voice gentle but filled with anticipation. He knew what they were about to say, could feel it in the way their gaze lingered on him, and he silently willed them to take the leap.
Y/n hesitated for a moment, their mind racing with a new uproar of butterflies. But then, with a surge of determination, they pushed aside their doubts and fears, allowing their heart to lead the way.
"How do I say this…" they trailed off, their voice barely above a whisper. "Other than I just don't want tonight to end…"
And in that moment, the weight of their confession hung heavy in the air, the tension between them palpable. But before either of them could say another word, Pickles closed the distance between them, his lips capturing Y/n's in a tender kiss.
Time seemed to stand still as they melted into each other, the world fading away until nothing was left but the warmth of their embrace. And as they pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, y/n felt a sense of peace settle over them, knowing they had finally found the courage to speak their truth.
"Me neither," Pickles whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and affection. "Let's make tonight last forever."
ok that took a really really long time. now time to go back into my writer whole. Leave more requests for me :DD
EDIT: HI so for some fucking reason in the translation from docs to tumblr, half of the fucking fic was just OMITTED. HOW DID I NOT NOTICE UGHHHHH im so sorry yall if the pacing felt weird. thats what i get for not proof reading before i post but i was SO EXCITED to have another bomb fic doneeeeee.
-He’s worried about his hands so he’s only going to do leg work
-Even then… He’d rather just watch you do your thing
-He’s rooting for you though, he’ll give you some encouragement when you need it.
-That is until he’s focused on just fiddling with his guitar again
-Wears workout clothes to the gym, looks good, but he isn’t working out.
-Every attempt to join you in an exercise lasts about 5 minutes at best.
Toki
-Has a lot of stamina
- Says the exercise you’re doing looks hard, but ends up doing it. Easily.
-Easily lifts more weights than you without even meaning to.
- Breaks some equipment without meaning to.
- His favorite part is a post-work out smoothie.
Murderface
-There was so much complaining before, on the way there, and finally getting there.
-Says he’ll work out with you but he’s just bullshitting
-Don’t mind him pulling out some greasy food and eating it right in front of you
-Gets scolded several times for eating at the gym. Says this is why the gym is bullshit.
-Ends up leaving and waiting for you outside tbh
Pickles
- Hypes himself up to go to the gym with you
-Wants to stick to the ‘easier’ machines
-Takes a lot of breaks
-Thinks it’s best to pre-game before the gym… He’s going for some protein…. Realizes he needs alcohol to wash it down.
-Probably put vodka in his water container
Nathan
-He hates the gym
-He feels like everyone is staring at him and it feels awkward.
-Also he hates that most people seem to just be sitting there and not really working out - like they’re just socializing or whatever.
-He thinks you look really cute in gym clothes though.
- He’s easily annoyed by all the show offs, especially the people who just seem to be making noises like they’re working out hard but they don’t seem to be doing much of anything.
-Always thinks about his post-work out meal during the work out.
