#moon sign in the house of fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andypantsx3 · 11 months

Text

all in a day's quirk | sero hanta

pairing: Sero Hanta / Fem Reader

length: 5.3k

summary: Sero gets hit with a quirk that makes others see him as the person they are most attracted to. Which you really wish you had known before you opened your mouth and gave him your usual, “Hey, Sero!”

tags/warnings: pro hero au, fluff, misunderstandings, quirk accident, not actually unrequited feelings, smut, thigh riding, fem reader (no pronouns but AFAB genitalia terms used), aged up characters

It was approximately four thirty-three p.m. when Sero Hanta returned from patrol and blew your peaceful day to bits.

Before his arrival, the Todoroki Agency had been relatively quiet, as it usually was around this time, everyone but the on-call staff winding down for the day. You’d been hearing the telltale rustling of jackets and scuffle of feet in the office behind you since the clock ticked past four.

Not long after, a couple of your friends from the analytics department had wandered over to your desk, clearly deciding they were not going to get anything else done, gossiping and stealing the candies you kept in a glass bowl on the reception counter.

“I heard Shouto’s manager is considering signing him up for a shirtless charity calendar,” Mari told you immediately, wiggling her eyebrows. “Hana from brand management said she was asked to do research on the impact the calendar had on other pros’ careers, so I think this is serious.”

She looked beyond pleased, her cheeks pink and her ears tipped red, the way they always were when she contemplated her massive crush on your agency head, Todoroki Shouto.

You couldn’t fault her–Shouto was incredibly handsome and kind, if a bit spacey–but you’d always been drawn to a different pro hero on the agency roster. Someone just a little bit taller, with dark hair and a half-moon grin, a razor sharp sense of humor, and the most inconceivably mouth-watering thighs in the pro hero business.

Not that you had been giving them attention. Much.

You suppressed the urge to ask if anyone else from the agency was being considered for the calendar, wiggling your eyebrows back. “Well I know you’ll be the first in line.”

Mari’s blush deepened, and Kimiko laughed around an orange-flavored candy, which you stocked for many reasons other than a certain tape-themed hero’s predilection for oranges, thank you very much.

“I just hope they include Uravity-san,” Kimiko said. “I mean–not shirtless shirtless, but like, god would I kill for her in a little sports bra.”

Kimiko sounded unaffected, but you’d literally hidden her beneath your desk the time pro heroes Uravity and Deku visited for an agency team-up with the Todoroki office. She’d spent the entire time peering out with big eyes, muttering under her breath, “I am so gay. So very very gay.”

You didn’t doubt if Uravity were included in the spread, Kimiko might even beat Mari out for the first spot in line.

“You both have such kind hearts,” you laughed. “So eager to give to charity.”

“I’m a lifelong philanthropist,” Mari agreed, picking up your pen and doodling hearts all over your office stationery. You noticed she colored in only the left side, and suppressed another laugh.

Whatever. You knew what it was to be that whipped, even if you’d never do anything about it.

As huge as your thing was for Sero, there wasn’t a chance in hell he returned your affections. He was incredibly friendly, but over the past few years, he’d never even given a hint that he was into you like that. He’d treated you with the same easy cheer and subjected you to the same good-natured roasting he did everyone else in the agency.

And now was not the time to go looking for more, anyway. You’d recently become close enough to see Sero outside of work and you were not about to endanger that–you’d been invited to a house party of his a couple months ago, gone to drinks with him and a couple of agency people after work, and even grabbed dinner alone a few times over the past few weeks. You’d been texting memes practically nonstop this entire week alone.

He was so much fun, always quick with a joke, a wink, or an interesting story, and he wasn’t afraid to tell things like they were. You forgot time was passing when you were with him, and sometimes when you went out, you stayed out long enough that you thought he might, too.

So you were finally reaching a stage in your friendship where Sero clearly felt close and comfortable—you would not press for more.

It was just, sometimes, when he smiled down at you with that clever, mischievous grin, your heart felt like it was experiencing some sort of medical event. Sometimes, when he put his dark hair up into a messy half-bun, those biceps cording as he did so, it felt like someone had just vacuumed all the oxygen straight out of your lungs. Sometimes, when he leaned down to whisper something to you in his most conspiratorial tones, it felt like someone had spiked your brain into a blender and pureed it into mush.

But it was cool.

You knew how to play it cool.

Mari pulled you back to earth with the promise of more gossip—this time, about her arch nemesis in accounting—and Kimiko leaned in, offering her own commentary over the unwrapping of another of your candies.

And then the clock struck four thirty-three, and Sero Hanta returned from patrol.

You heard the telltale mechanic ping of an agency badge passing checkpoint, and peeked around Kimiko to see Sero trudging through the doorway, looking strangely contemplative. He was covered in dirt and his uniform was slashed in several places, including a great deal of shredding about the thighs, which you would have been happier about if he didn’t look so unusually subdued.

He didn’t look hurt at any rate, so that was good. But you couldn’t help but call out to him.

“Hey Sero!” you said, curious about his demeanor. “How’d patrol go? Something happen?”

Kimiko and Mari turned around, and you watched as both of them seemed to freeze up. Kimiko’s hand slapped against the reception counter, the sound echoing through the room, gripping tightly as though she’d suddenly seen a ghost.

“Ur–Uravity-san,” she said, dipping into the most formal bow you’d ever seen her make. “What’s brought you here?”

You felt your mouth pull into a frown, staring at the back of her head in absolute bamboozlement. Was she seeing things? The only person in the doorway was Sero, and he was very much unaccompanied.

His helmet was propped between his hip and his elbow, so his face was clear too–so Kimiko didn’t even have the excuse of not being able to see his face, different though his costume was from Uravity’s.

Sero blinked, his mouth pulling into a semi-puzzled grin. “Uravity?”

Mari was slapping Kimiko before you could inquire the same thing, hissing, “Are you losing it? That’s fucking Shouto.” She turned back to pin you with something between a glare and a concerned, assessing gaze, as if you too had lost your marbles.

You frowned back, your own concern deepening. “I’m sorry–are you guys seriously telling me that Shouto and Uravity are here with Sero?” You peered back around Mari at Sero, quirking a brow at him. “Did they get hit with some kind of invisibility quirk or are these two experiencing some kind of hallucination?”

Maybe too much shirtless calendar talk had gotten them too hot and bothered.

Sero’s dark gaze pinned you, and he quickly came tromping over, his boots echoing on the stone flooring. He leaned over the reception counter, pointing to his face with one long, pretty finger. “Wait, you can tell it’s me?”

He smelled like cement and sweat and dust, and something vaguely minty, like he’d been chewing gum recently. You tried not to let your expression show how much you liked the look of him up close, those hooded dark eyes, his wide, charming mouth.

“Um, yes? I have eyeballs?” you wondered.

Sero blinked, leaning in closer. Your heartbeat ticked up. “You’re sure?”

“Should I not be…sure?” you asked. “Are Shouto and Uravity really with you and I’m the only one who can’t see them?”

Sero shook his head, “Nah–it’s just me.”

You frowned up at him, curious. “Then why are they calling you Shouto and Uravity…?”

Sero shook his dark head. His hair was pulled into that half-bun you loved, the way it usually was under his helmet on patrol, and all mussed from whatever run in he’d had. You tried not to think about what other activities might get his hair all mussed like that.

He smiled, something wide and conspiratorial. “Got hit with some kinda illusion quirk. People have stopped me like a thousand times on my way in to ask for All Might’s autograph, or Hawks’, and even Bakugou’s. They’re lucky it was just me, he’d have thrown a shit fit getting cut off in the street like that.”

Sero’s features shifted into something slightly more contemplative again. “But you’re somehow immune, huh?”

You frowned. “Shouldn’t you get checked out at medical, then?”

His eyes softened, and another grin made its way onto his mouth. “Yeah yeah, I’ll head right there.”

Kimiko and Mari were still gaping over at him like he was a miracle, and some strange feeling came over you, a concerned little squeeze of your heart. You grabbed Mari, plonking her down into your seat in your stead. “Cover me for a couple minutes? Just say people are unavailable and take notes and I’ll figure it out when I get back. I’m gonna run down to medical with Sero for a second.”

Mari nodded dumbly.

You pulled Sero’s helmet out of his grip, resting it in the crook of your own elbow, and gestured him down the hall with you. Sero fell into step beside you, keeping up easily with his long stride. He grinned down at you, seemingly unperturbed that he’d gotten hit with a quirk that had all but erased his identity in the eyes of others.

It was something you admired in him, his inherent good-naturedness.

You wondered why you were the only one who could tell it was him.

“Any good gossip while I was gone?” he asked, like he really couldn’t be fussed about his predicament. “I was starting to hear shirtless calendar talk before I had to head out on patrol.”

You suppressed a flush and fought down the urge to ask if he’d been asked to be in it too.

You did not need to know.

“Whatever the hell is going on with you is the spiciest bit of gossip all day,” you told him, rounding a corner and badging into the stairwell down to the medical floor. You clung to the railing carefully and most definitely did not watch his thighs bunch as he took the stairs. “Want a drink after work? It seems like you could use one, after this.”

Sero smiled, an eyebrow raising. “Trying to get me drunk, huh?”

You wrinkled your nose. “As if I’d need to be so underhanded.”

You did. You did need to be so underhanded.

Sero had to angle himself carefully through the door, his shoulder pieces liable to snag on the doorway with the breadth of those pro hero shoulders. The medic on staff took one look at him and flushed, mumbling out a name you didn’t know.

You piped in before she could say more. “Cellophane’s been hit with a quirk that makes him appear like someone else. It’s not whoever you think!”

She blinked curiously, but then nodded, probably having seen much weirder things in her time as a hero agency staffer. She gestured Sero to a cot on the side of the room. “Alright, please sit down, Cellophane. We’ll do a couple quick tests and then get you sorted with the right quirk cancellation.” Her cheeks seemed to heat again as she spoke, but she made good on her promise, disappearing down the hall, calling to someone for quirk testing strips.

Sero hopped up on the cot, swinging those long legs, grinning at you from eye-level, now. “Think I should prank a couple people before they cancel it?”

You rolled your eyes. “Only you would be having fun with this. No one in the world knows who you are!”

The corner of Sero’s mouth pulled wryly. “You do.”

“You don’t know if that could change, dude. Better get it over with before you get stuck as like, Endeavor forever.”

Sero laughed, light and airy. “Shouto wouldn’t hang with me anymore.”

You nodded. “Exactly, and none of the rest of us read the same weird manga you guys are into so you’d be all alone with no one to fanboy about it to.”

The medic returned with a thick silvery strip, pulling on blue nitrile gloves as she did so. Sero held his arm out obligingly, the lean muscle flexing in the fluorescence of the office lighting. She peeled off the backing of the strip, pressing it to Sero’s forearm, pushing it down firmly.

She attached a cable to some screened device, and you listened to the beep of various buttons. Sero watched you over her shoulder, his easy smile still in place.

Finally, the device in the medic’s hand beeped, and she pulled back, announcing somewhat shyly, “An attraction-type quirk.”

You blinked, mystified. A what?

Sero’s grin seemed to freeze on his face, and his thin brows furrowed the tiniest bit.

The medic continued, oblivious. “This quirk creates an illusion. External parties will perceive the affectee with the traits or as the person they are most attracted to.”

Sero’s dark eyes snapped to yours, widening, and you fumbled a step back, almost tripping over yourself. You threw out a hand, barely catching yourself on the counter.

No.

Oh fuck no.

If people were seeing who they were most attracted to…and you had just seen Sero the whole time…

That would mean—that would mean—and he had heard you say—

“Oh my god, I just remembered I have to get back to Mari,” you said, offering Sero a wave of your suddenly numb hand. “Can’t, um, strand her at the desk for too long. I’ll leave you guys to it. Uh, yeah. Thanks–bye!”

You quickly threw yourself out through the door, leaving Sero alone with the medic. You dashed back up the stairwell, your heartbeat shooting into your mouth.

How could this be happening? How unbelievably embarrassing was that? You’d worked so hard to play it cool in front of Sero for all this time, for years, really, and you’d finally just made it to a comfortable place as friends.

And then—and then—some attraction-illusion quirk goes and blows your cover, just like that? For real?

And he’d heard you, too. Heard you say, “Hey, Sero!” as soon as he’d come through the door, before anyone had revealed anything about who else they thought he might be instead. Before you could have possibly had any clue that he’d been quirked.

You could die of mortification.

You shooed Mari and Kimiko away from the desk when you got back, quickly readying your things to get the hell out of the office as soon as your night replacement arrived. You cleaned up all the bi-colored hearts Mari had doodled on every available surface of your desk and refilled the candy bowl Kimiko had apparently seen fit to devastate in your absence, your ears heating with the thought that Sero could catch on now, why you stocked orange candies.

God, could your replacement hurry the fuck up before Sero got back here?

But the night receptionist was predictably late, of course, and by the time you finally saw him badge through the front entrance you could hear quick, booted steps across the tile behind you.

Sero’s voice sounded over the back of your chair, just as a long-fingered hand closed around your wrist.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice more careful than you’d ever heard it. “Still up for that drink? I think maybe we could talk over it.”

The night receptionist nodded at you and Sero as he made his way over, and you gave up your chair to him, collecting your bag with Sero’s warm fingers still clutching your wrist. You slowly worked up the courage to look up at him, face heating as you took in his uncharacteristically intent expression. His face had been cleaned and it looked like some antibiotic had been applied to some of the scrapes along his jaw.

You knew then you’d trapped yourself. Though it was probably also better to get things over with now than avoid the subject forever.

“Okay,” you said, trying to keep your voice normal. “Yeah, let’s talk.”

Sero was the nicest dude ever, you had to remember that. Even when it came down to a rejection, he would still be completely kind and friendly. Probably not too much would change on his end afterwards either. You couldn’t imagine him avoiding you or treating you any differently.

“My place okay?” Sero asked as you shrugged on your bag.

You nodded, and he smiled, nearly as wide and silly as he normally did, tinged with only the slightest bit of shyness.

You’d originally planned to take him out somewhere fun, but this conversation was probably best had in private. And Sero’s place was close, an apartment only a couple blocks’ walk, in a charming little neighborhood fringed by a park and a variety of interesting bars and cafes. Sero chatted away with his usual friendly ease as you walked, still in his shredded hero costume, waving to the couple people that recognized him as you did so.

Your stomach flipped as he opened his front door, gesturing you inside under his arm. He was tall and lanky enough that you fit easily, and you caught a whiff of that minty scent again under all the dust that coated his uniform. You tried not to look too closely at the lines of his bicep as you passed under it.

His apartment was just as you’d remembered it; spacious, casually decorated in neutral tones with splashes of interesting patterns spread across the rug, throw pillows, and his collection of wall hangings. It smelled cottony and clean, and Sero gestured you to his couch as he dumped his helmet and boots in the doorway, shrugging off his shoulder pieces.

“A beer cool?” he asked as he made his way into the kitchen. “I’ve got a couple of good ones.”

“Sounds great,” you told him, listening to the sounds of him cracking the caps.

To your surprise he plopped down on the couch next to you as he came back in, handing you a bottle. It was cold, and your fingers made little prints in the condensation where you touched it.

“So,” he said, turning to you, a sly look in his dark eyes. “You wanna talk about what just happened?”

Your face flamed, and you took a quick sip of your beer to give you time to recover yourself. It was sour on your tongue, a hint of orange peel in its profile.

“No,” you told him honestly, giving him a self-conscious smile, which he returned. “I think it’s pretty clear, actually. You got hit by a quirk that shows people the person they’re most attracted to and I, uh, obviously saw, um, you.”

Sero’s grin pulled wider at the edges, surprising you. If you didn’t know better, you would think he liked hearing that. Although maybe it was a little bit of an ego stroke to hear you were someone’s fantasy man, even if you didn’t return their feelings.

“Not All Might and not Bakugou,” he said, something pleased in his tone.

You blinked at him, disturbed by those insinuations. “Definitely not,” you sniffed. “I am a paragon of taste.”

Sero laughed, his fingers flexing on the side of his beer. Then he took a sip, seeming to contemplate something as he did, and you drew yourself together, preparing for the inevitable. That was definitely a look that said he was thinking hard, probably about the best way to let you down.

But then Sero grinned back down at you, leaning in collusively. “You wanna know something?”

You could feel your brows raise curiously, even as your heartbeat picked up with his proximity. You looked down, then accidentally spied the strips of tanned thigh where his costume had torn, and had to quickly reroute your gaze for fear of staring. “That depends.”

Sero’s grin went even more sly. “I think if you’d been hit with that quirk, I’d have known it was you too.”

Your heartbeat slammed to a halt in your chest. It was only when Sero threw a hand out that you realized you’d lost your grip on your beer, his quick reflexes the only thing saving his carpet. You startled at the sudden move, making a weird arm-flinging motion somewhere between grabbing for your beer and grabbing onto him, ending up accidentally smacking him in the chest instead.

“Fuck, I—sorry!” you garbled out, stunned by his sudden proximity and the fistful of his costume you’d taken. His skin was warm against the side of your hand.

Sero blinked, looking taken aback for a moment. Then he shifted, and you heard the clink of two beers being deposited on his coffee table. You swallowed, unable to look away from him, and you watched his dark eyes rove over your face, before dipping down to stare at something just under your nose.

A shiver prickled up your spine.

“So when you—with the quirk—” you tried, but your brain had gone offline, and the right set of words were not coming to you. “Um, when you say—you would have known—?”

Sero’s grin crept back across his mouth. “I mean that I’d have seen you, because I’ve been wanting to ask you out and trying to figure out if you're into me for months.”

It had to be the shock of this admission that registered you so stupid. “You—months? Try years.”

Sero’s laugh beat back the instant wave of mortification that overcame you in the next second, when you realized what'd you'd just said. You could only smile back helplessly, equally pleased and embarrassed. He looked so good right then, too, grinning toothily, his hair a mess, his costume torn to shreds. He really was the most gorgeous guy you had ever seen, that quirk had totally had your number.

It suddenly dawned on you that you had little else to lose now, with everything out in the open. And when Sero looked like that—sly, pleased, and a little bit of a mess—you thought you were done trying to bury things.

A thrill zinging down your spine, you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his.

He’d been laughing, and you only caught the edge of his mouth, but Sero quickly corrected. You could feel his lips go slack in surprise for a second, and then he was schooling himself and returning your kiss with abandon.

Long fingers came up to take your chin, holding you firmly in place. It was so unexpectedly bold that you shuddered, kissing him harder. Your hand tangled further in the fabric of his costume, gripping onto him for dear life as his tongue met yours, twisting and teasing. It was so like him, the way he kissed. Teasing, playful, easy. Your head spun with how much you liked it.

“Aw fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Sero said, when he finally pulled away far enough to enunciate the words. He shifted against you, putting a large palm against your back, pulling you to him. You followed his guidance, climbing into his lap, chasing his mouth again. You wanted more—more now that you thought you could have it.

“I’ve been wanting—for years—” you said, squeaking in surprise when Sero guided you down onto a strong thigh. It was hard and thick and way too muscular to be allowed, and your breath left you in a harsh hiss. And because this was the most embarrassing day of your life, Sero clocked it immediately, leaning forward in interest.

“You—like that? My—thigh?” he asked curiously.

You could feel your face burning, like someone had just dunked it in a bucket of hot coals. “I–yes. I like everything about you. Including your thighs,” you admitted.

Sero’s hand guided you back down against him, pressing his knee up experimentally. A thrill sang through your veins at the feeling of a piece of him so warm and firm right up against your core. You barely bit back the noise you wanted to make.

“Fuck, this is weirdly hot,” Sero said, leaning in to take your mouth again. You could feel him growing hard against your knee through the fabric of his costume, as his tongue flicked against yours, making your brain go a little woozy.

His arms came around you, holding your waist as he ground his leg up into you, sending a wave of pleasure striking through you like lightning. The moan you’d been trying to hold in finally broke free of you. “Ah—Hanta!”

The sound seem to spark something in him. Sero surged up, his hands making quick work of your shirt as he kissed you, still rocking you against his thigh in a way that made you see stars. You had the wild thought that everything about him was more than you’d ever imagined it would be, from the delicate press of his fingers to the warmth of his thigh to the way the strands of his hair that had escaped brushed across your forehead. Embarrassingly fast, like he knew exactly how to play you, he worked you up to the crest of your pleasure.

You had to put a hand to his chest to stop him.

“Hanta, if you—I’m going to cum if we don’t stop—” you said.

“Oh my god please,” was his only answer, and he pulled you down onto his thigh with renewed vigor. Sparks of pleasure pricked all over your body as he kissed you again, his hands roaming every inch of exposed skin. He left bruising kisses down the side of your throat, fingers playing with your nipples.

Another few rocks into his thigh sent you right over the edge, and he held you against him as you rode it out, squirming against his thigh.

“This is the hottest thing that has ever happened to me,” he said, something in his tone making it clear he was not done with you yet.

He helped you wiggle out of your pants, freeing himself of his own costume, and laid you out over his couch, grinning. He was golden with a fading summer tan, and his smile was so wide and charming and white against the dimming light from the windows. He was gloriously lean, hard with dense, compact stretches of muscle, every single inch of him honed from years of hero work. He was perfect—so stupidly, handsomely, perfect.

Between his thighs, his cock was just as long and lean, heavy and flush with arousal. It made you dizzy to think that this man, who you’d crushed on for so long, wanted you like this—wanted you back in the same way you’d always wanted him. You motioned him closer, too eager now to be self-conscious about it.

Sero laughed, a happy noise. “Fuck, you’re so pretty though.” He stretched out over you, sliding in between your thighs and guiding himself into you. His chest pressed to yours, hot and slick with a light sheen of sweat already, and you hissed with the feeling of him slipping inside you.

You felt drunk with arousal, crazy with want. You clutched him to you as he moved, thrusting carefully at first, as if testing the feeling of you, and then more firmly. You let out soft noises you hadn't meant to, which Sero seemed to appreciate.

“God, look at you. Listen to you,” he said, grinning down at you, his dark eyes tracing over you. “I can’t believe I got hit with that quirk. This is the luckiest day of my life—you’re so cute. So—fuck—so perfect.”

He slid into a frustratingly sedate pace, strokes long and languid, stretching out almost teasingly. You wrapped your legs more tightly around his hips, trying to press him into you, but his smile just widened. He moved leisurely, setting his own pace, just on the wrong side of too slow.

It drove you insane, somehow working you up even faster than if he’d been doing what you wanted. You muffled the sounds of your own moans against his lips, gripping onto those broad shoulders. Sero’s own fingers slid down to your clit, playing with you just as lightly and teasingly as his thrusts.

You could have killed him, but all you could do was hold onto him, slurring his name appreciatively.

He worked you like that for a while, bringing you close but never too close, drawing out the feeling into something warm and fizzy, like soda left in the sun. But eventually the band of his control seemed to snap, and he began thrusting into you harder, faster. Those long, lovely fingers circled your clit with more intent as he did, murmuring a steady stream of praise.

“Please—cum with me,” he panted into your mouth, as his fingers drew ever-tightening circles over you. “I want you to come with me, Y/N. Can you—can you do that?”

You nodded frantically as his thrusts grew faster, sloppier. He was so good inside you, so good over you, his fingers such a delicious pressure against your clit. It only took a few thrusts more, a few strokes of those careful fingers, and then you were squirming against him in earnest, your veins going molten with pleasure.

“Hanta—I’m going to—!”

“Yessss,” he hissed, and then he was orgasming too, spilling out his pleasure inside of you. His hips slapped yours in a stuttering pattern, half-crazed, and you shook against him, gasping. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you crested the wave, until finally—finally you went limp against him, just as his own body relaxed over you.

“I want to be hit with a quirk all the time,” he said, ridiculously.

You couldn’t help but laugh, smiling into his shoulder. “Don’t make a habit of it.”

Sero hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. If this is what I get every time, then…” he trailed off, smirking down at you.

“I’m not going to bang you if you’re going to be irresponsible,” you told him.

He perked up, however, those dark eyes peering at you hopefully. “But you’ll bang me otherwise?”

You laughed again, pinching him lightly on the arm where you held him. “What do you think having a crush on you for years means?”

His grin went all sly and pleased again. “Then I’ll have to lock it down, of course. I haven’t spent months wondering just to let you get away. Starting with dinner this evening, maybe. Do you—would dinner be okay?” he asked. The sound of genuine, eager hope in his voice was so gratifying it made you want to kick your legs in the air.

You settled for nodding instead. “Dinner sounds amazing.”

“Then I’ll arrange the finest takeout just for you,” he said, which you knew from experience meant the empanadas place around the corner. You laughed again, feeling full already with the promise of an easy meal, and a relationship to come.

“Whatever you want sounds good to me,” you said, even as he began to slide off of you, helping you up alongside him. “You’ve had a crazy day today, empanadas sound like the perfect cap.”

Sero leaned in, his expression as mischievous and charming as always. “It’s nothing,” he said, even as he carefully held out your shirt to you again, guiding you into it in an unexpectedly gentlemanly move. You let him stuff you into it, laughing, smiling into the kiss he gave you as you emerged.

He winked at you as he found his phone and dialed, smiling as you heard the call connect. “After all, I'm a hero," he said. "And it’s all in a day’s work.”

#sero x you #sero x reader #sero x y/n #sero hanta x reader #hanta sero x reader #hanta sero x you #bnha x reader #sero smut

3K notes · View notes

yanderestarangel · 8 months

Text

HEADKANONS MK1 - "HOW WOULD THEY REACT TO THE PREGNANT READER?"

A/N: an anon asked me for Bi Han's reaction to a pregnant Reader, but then I decided to play several MK men soon, I'll answer all requests too, thanks for the asks and support <3

TW: pregnancy, afab anatomy, paternity mentioned, used "father/mother" to refer to the reader, mention of smut, fluff.

✧ BI HAN ✧

It really depends on what kind of relationship you two have. You can have a "friendship with benefits" with Bi Han, where you look for each other just to have sex, then you end up accidentally getting pregnant and go look for him - obviously afraid, after all, he is Bi Han. So he asks you to meet him in the forest, the same meeting place where you made love in passionate encounters, with Bi Han fucking you hard, whispering how good you were for him, how good your beautiful pussy was on his dick, it was the only moment that the grand master was vulnerable. You saw him in the distance, with his arms crossed and a serious expression on his face as he waited for you to say something so important that made him miss an entire day of liu kuei training. After telling him, he would be surprised for a few minutes, and say: "-Are you sure it's my son?" -Bi Han said with a little too much seriousness in his voice, even aggression while you felt a little offended, but you would say yes, making Bi Han look at the sky, a smile could be seen slightly on his lips as he went at your direction by kneeling in front of your belly and nodding your head. "-I think we will be good parents, our child will have all the honor and power Lin Kuei." -The ice ninja stood up as he held your hand, he would be a good father, even if he was rude at times, he will take care of your pregnancy - and maybe he will want more children in the future with you - he would officially ask you to be his boyfriend/girlfriend or marriage, after all, he needs a partner by his side, especially you who are carrying his offspring.

✧ KUAI LIANG ✧

The two of you also had a friendship with benefits, always together in the lonely early mornings that Kuai would look for you for pleasure and affection, but unlike his brother, Kuai would treat you as if the two of you were already dating, giving you gifts or even forgetting and saying that You were his boyfriend/girlfriend. Over time he started to stay even more at your house, always having sex in every possible place - and often without a condom - so soon your period was late, you felt sick and took a pregnancy test, confirming your suspicions. That night Liang and you had sex again, while you sat next to him on the mattress on the floor with the pregnancy test under the pillow, obviously you were scared, as you saw Kuai look at you worried. "-Is there a problem sweetheart?" -He said, caressing your naked and sweaty waist, after sex, while you sighed and took out the small pregnancy test, with the positive sign, showing it to him without saying anything. Kuai would remain silent for a few minutes, looking at the test in hand while he finally smiled slightly, looking at you fondly. "-Was that it (Y/N)? Why were you afraid to tell me? I'm literally in love with you, it's not just sex for me, I really love you. And we're together for everything, especially this." -Kuai Liang said smiling, hugging you right away, while stroking your hair. "-You will look beautiful as a father/mother, with a huge belly, carrying our child, our family will start now, you and me."

✧ SYZOTH ✧

He's going to faint, no joke, but it's from happiness. Regardless of your relationship, he will be over the moon. Syzoth always wanted a family again, he lost one so he knows the pain and loneliness it is, being alone in the world and without hope, he found you and you started small meetings, sometimes sex, sometimes just watching a movie together or just talking - or sometimes all together, it depends on the mood of the two of you on the day - And this will last for many days, months or even years, he always wanted a title, but you never wanted to put labels on what you two had, what you left He was upset to be honest, but he continued with your conformist carnal encounters while trying to settle for sexual chemistry. But that didn't last long with a fight between the two of you for exactly that reason, you didn't want a relationship but he did, leading to the two of you not seeing each other for two weeks and in the meantime, you discovered you were pregnant, becoming desperate and looking for Syzoth immediately. He was shocked, paralyzed, he was breathing heavily and then passed out seconds later, but he woke up quickly. "-Am I going to be a father??? Am I really going to be a father again?" -Syzoth spoke with a happy smile, taking your shoulders, as he pulled you into a hug, jumping with joy, shedding a few tears in the process, he quickly knelt down, looking at your belly, and placing a kiss over the fabric of your blouse. "-I already love you my child, me and (Y/N) will love you very much." -He stood up, wiping away his tears while looking at you with affection. "-Do you agree to make things official between the two of us (Y/N)? And raise our child? I promise to do everything to protect you, as the father/mother of my son."

✧ REIKO ✧

The two of you were the classic: enemies to lovers, always fighting with each other to stand out more for General Shao Khan or even falling to the punch - without losing the friendship, just a friendly spar, where Reiko and you left bleeding - But there was always sexual tension between the two of you, it was obvious to anyone who saw you, and one day, it became real, with you and Reiko taking a shower after a mission together in the same bathroom and with him teasing you and you teasing back, when you saw it, you had been sitting on Reiko's dick for two hours while he moaned loudly echoing through the box, the sex was incredible and you liked this concept of hating each other and competing in front of everyone, but meeting every night - even though the competitions also applied in the bedroom, with the two of you challenging each other with who was going to cum faster... Reiko always lost - but soon the two of you became more intimate, more passionate, starting to do it without a condom, because Reiko loves make a good creampie in your pussy - after a few weeks, you realized that you were sick and more unwell for training, making him also worry, so you went to an exo terra healer, proving that you were expecting Reiko's child . You didn't know how to tell him, but you didn't have to, he followed you and heard everything, waiting for you outside with your arms crossed and a slight smile on your face. "-Well, I think we're going to be parents now, right? And this child is going to be very dear to me (Y/N), you can trust me." -Reiko spoke sincerely, while placing a hand on your shoulder, kissing you on the forehead. "-And we both know that this child will be like me, he will be born strong like me and-" -He spoke but you soon disagreed, leading the two of you to walk hand in hand while talking/arguing amicably with whoever your son was going to look like.

✧ SHANG TSUNG ✧

He was never a sentimental man, but you were the only person who got to see a softer side of Shang, he was still arrogant but less selfish when it came to you. The two of you met in his castle, where he studied various spells every night and liked to show off to you, at first it was just a friendship, but Shang fell in love with you which led you to have sex on his table, with first time showing you a soft side, as he thrust his hips into you, moaning loudly as he bit your neck. This became a routine, mainly sitting on Shang's lap with his entire dick in your pussy, while he studied some spells, letting you enjoy the pleasure. He's different from everyone else on the list, he knows you're pregnant before you can even open your mouth to tell him. You ran into his castle with tears in your eyes, ready to tell him, but he smiled at you with his back turned, it wasn't a forced or sarcastic smile, it was something soft, something real. "-Oh really? I already knew my cute little voodoo doll, have you already chosen a name? How about something big? After all, this child is mine." -He spoke with his chin raised and genuinely happy, as he called you closer, putting you on his lap and quickly kissing you, caressing your cheek. "-I will take care of you two, you as the father/mother of my child, and this child... I really want you by my side (Y/N)."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

2K notes · View notes

volensnolenss · 7 months

Text

Just want you. Only you

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Gojo’s declaration of your need and love;

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽: sfw! fluff, drunk and lovesick Gojo, he calls you ‘sweet’, ‘cute thing’, and etc;

𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: yeah, I’m slowly returning to the previous graphic of posts

“Why did you break the vase with flowers?

“Such beautiful flowers should be held by a beautiful girl like you.”

“You can't drink, Satoru, do you know?” You held Gojo's forearm while his legs dragged him to the car with difficulty.

“And what? What's the difference? You are near – this fact pleases me, my little cute thing.”

“Oh, Satoru, hush.”

A crooked drunken smile turned to you, to which you grinned and shook your head. It was interesting for you: does he become serious only when it comes to students and the higher-ups ? Or are there other cases?

“Are you going to take a taxi yourself or?...” You startled when you felt his head on your shoulder – in such a short period he managed to fall asleep.

Anxiety began to gnaw inside you. You can't leave him alone in any case, so you sat down next to him.

You stared out the window, watching him through the reflection and listening to his snuffling, in which a few slurred words slipped through.

All evening, he kept his eyes on you and tried in every way to conduct a dialogue as long as possible, but you were constantly distracted. Gojo casually tucked your curls behind your ear or straightened your dress to at least touch you a little.

The silence was broken only by Shoko's call, forcing Satoru to shake his head gloomily and he immediately put his head on your lap, feeling comfortable on them.

“Well, how's your frie-end?” She stretched out the last word with a chuckle. There was a noise in the horn – the event was clearly not going to end.

“He's sleeping.”

“Wait, are you at his house?”

“No, we're in the taxi. I'll drop him off and join you right away.” Your hand involuntarily started stroking his head. Your fingers gently passed over the back of his head, lightly scratching him, creating mental figures.

“Don't be late, I'll be waiting-.” When you arrived, you hung up the phone without listening to the end of her words, and after paying quickly, you woke Satoru up and dragged him out. He reluctantly got up and, staggering, held on to your shoulders, trying to keep his balance.

“Who will get you?” You were puffing, feeling the weight on you.

“What did you say?” He nuzzled your temple, lightly touching his lips.

“It doesn't matter.” You shook your head, trying to push him away from you, but Satoru just buried his forehead in the top of your head, which made you sigh heavily.

Slowly and surely you walked snuggled up to each other. A lonely moon illuminated your way, giving a mother-of-pearl light to the city.

“It's beautiful today, isn't it?” His lips touched you lightly again, but this time on your cheeks, making you blush.

You didn't want to admit it, but there was something attractive about his behavior and actions towards you.

“You can make it more interesting.” Without giving any sign of your confusion, you laughed it off and called the elevator.

“Actually-”

“No comments.” You pressed your index finger to his mouth, directing your stern and serious gaze.

Baby. The big baby is exactly the words that describe him at the moment.

The wait dragged on for a long time and you broke the silence.

“Satoru, could you somehow teleport yourself to your apartment?”

“No problem, but...”

“What does "but" mean–” You stumbled when he came up to you, collided face to face, Gojo grabbed you and a moment later you fell with him on his bed. You didn't say a word, but just watched in silence as he loomed over you.

“Explain. Right now.” In an even tone, you addressed him, clutching the sheet, trying to curb anger mixed with anxiety and misunderstanding.

Satoru lowered his head and, taking off his glasses, spoke softly.

“I want you.”

“What…?” His fingers began to play with your hair while you stared into his blue eyes in surprise, looking for at least some answer in them.

“I want you all. I want to wake up in the morning and see your tangled messy hair scattered all over the pillow. I want you to be in my arms every night and wake up in my hug. I want to see your smile every day. I just want you.”

You stared at him in silence, your eyelashes twitching with every sharp movement of your eyes. Gojo took your hand and pressed it to his cheek.

“Sweet, I want this. Your softness, warmth, safety.”

There were always gaps between you and him, which Satoru sought to fill with attention and something more than interest in you. His intuition told him that despite your minimal reaction, you still have the same feelings for him that he has for you.

He felt the implication in your words, like a sign that showed him that everything was going right.

“Then hug me.”

His arms immediately wrapped around your waist, afraid that you would run away from him. The comfort of his hands made you immediately feel safe.

No kisses, no other unnecessary touches – just an atmosphere of feelings that filled the room, where everything was clear to both of you without words.

A native feeling grew inside you when you put your cheek to his shoulder.

“But they tell the truth that alcohol makes you tell the truth.” You giggled, looking at his flushed face.

“But only you see me like this. Weak and in love.”

#jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo headcanons #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk fluff

1K notes · View notes

undercoverpena · 9 months

Text

home and the ghost mug

simon “ghost” riley x reader (cod)

this is unedited, and born from a random thought as I put away dishes and cleaned my kitchen at 1am. warnings: none. themes: fluff, cute mug moment, ghost and a non-military partner. just toothrotting 1am thoughts.

you don’t like to think you live alone, but you know you spend more time waiting, than you have with him.

this time it’s been months. the last contact weeks ago. it’s normal, but it doesn’t lessen the frustration you feel—or how it balls and clumps with worry.

you know you signed on to this. married yourself to the wondering and standing by when you bought the house with him. it’s why you’ve perfected the art of keeping busy, remaining distracted.

today, your mind slips. falls down on the job, scrapes the skin from your knees and bruises your heart. thoughts appearing, the faint sound of his gruff voice echoing in the walls. unable to unsee the shadow of his last time here—how broad he appears in your door frames.

it’s the slip up that means you unconsciously make a tea for yourself in his mug. a no-go, a thing you never do. the cup sacred, forever off limits unless he’s here. the one you’d bought as a joke, wrapped it in paper and watched him stare at it when he unveiled the skull on the side with the bone handle.

“this bought for me?”

“well, it’s not for next door, simon.”

suddenly, you don’t fancy tea. your heart aching, all heavy and downtrodden in your chest. so you pour it away, washing it out and putting it away quickly. because you know it’ll sting seeing it on the drainer in the morning. practically punch you in the gut—because your mind will trick itself into thinking he’s home. that he’s back. for whatever time he can spare.

by the time his car pulls onto the drive, the house is coated in darkness. the moon full, high in the sky. shimmering a luminescent glow on everything and anything it can touch.

you must be tired, shattered. no murmur of his name or quickened footsteps when he slides his key on the lock, when he takes his boots off. he does do it with precision, care—almost mouse like for a man that’s more mountain than man. shoving them away in the contraption you bought sometime between the two of you moving in and him coming back to you.

and because the house is quiet, silent. a pin being dropped sounding like a shout, he begins his routine. the one where he shoves the things away he doesn’t need to have. not needing reminders of what he does as ghost when he’s trying to focus on being simon.

his routine concludes with a shower in the downstairs guest bathroom, watching the places he’s just been slide down the plug hole, all out of sight, out of mind. you know this routine, keeping some of his casual clothes—sweats and tees in a drawer, for moments like this.

even if he should expect it by now, he still smiles as your genuineness. your kindness. the one that comes ti you with ease.

it’s why he craves being next to you, being able to hear your breaths—close his eyes and allow the evidence to bury the niggling worries he amasses when he’s not with you.

but, joining you isn’t possible. discovering you star-fished, snoring lightly—one of his t-shirts covering and concealing you. practically burying you. and so he closes the door, heads back downstairs. running a hand over the back of his head, feeling clumps of long and short hair from his bad diy cut you’ll undoubtedly have things to say about.

but it isn’t until he’s walking past the kitchen, does he notice the mug and glass cupboard ajar. a thought appearing, his hand retrieving his mug and placing it on the side. a sign, he hopes—a bold exclamation that he is home, in case you wake before him.

you don’t wake before him. simon and fucked up body clock, as usual, wakes at the first break of sunlight. only rising from the guest bed when he hears the floorboards above. your feet eventually coming down the staircase, all slow and heavy, his mind imagining you rubbing your eyes, softly sighing at another day.

he waits in the doorway—the one connecting the guest bedroom to the kitchen—watching you come to a standstill, eyes blinking as you stare at the mug.

simon doesn’t know the error you made yesterday, that you’re going through a crisis of whether you’d put it away or not. whether you’d lost your mind from missing him so much.

he just knows you’re not reacting. not whispering, never mind shouting his name. so he clears his throat, loud, purposeful.

and your head spins—he’s even pretty sure he hears it crack—and then the reaction he expected lands.

it erupts over your face. an explosion of confusion and joy, tear-filled eyes and a large smile, before you’re in his arms, face buried against his chest as he feels you shake with sobs he hopes are because you’re happy.

“take it you’re happy i’m home?”

“more than you think.”

his chin comes to rest on the top of your head, fingers stroking up and down your back.

the mug becomes a sign, a beacon.

it only ever used to indicate he was home—a trophy that remains on the side, until he gets the call that he has to go.

then he is the one to put it away, hating how he turns to always find your lips being chewed by your teeth.

“it’ll be back out before you know it.”

“it better be.”

simon doesn’t promise. because he knows—as do you—that there’s none he can keep in the games he plays. he comforts you without words, his mouth slanted over yours.

I’ll always fight to get home to you.

#ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii x reader #cod ghost #ghost cod x reader #ghost cod mw2 #ghost cod x you #mwii x reader #ghost x you #Simon Riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod mwii #cod mw2 ghost

1K notes · View notes

gyu-effect · 4 months

Text

[20:17]

PAIRING || Seungcheol x Female Reader

GENRES || Angst, Arranged Marriage AU, Fluff (if you squint prolly)

WARNINGS || none except that cheol got what he deserved lol

WORD COUNT || 1.8k

A/N || since all of you asked for pt. 2 of [20:37] here it is! can be read as a stand alone too tho. i hope you all like it!

TAGLIST || @romeosbreastmilk @y00nzin0 @cecedrake2217 @candidupped @ashkuuuu @hanicore @alyssng @weebotakuboy @angelfeverdream @aaniag @sea-moon-star @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hrts4hanniehae @athanasiasakura @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @mrswonwooo @chocolate-cookies @hyneyedfiz @jjeongddol @k-drama-adict @princessjazzyjazz @mnstxmnbb @stervahaha @wonusaurus [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

seungcheol shut the laptop close, groaning as he stretched on his chair. rubbing his eyes, he looked at the small clock on his desk, the tiredness hitting him harder when he saw how late it was. slowly getting up, he made his way to the living room to check on the house one last time before he finally collapsed onto the bed. it was raining heavily outside and the last thing he needed along with his strained marriage was a flooded house due to some half open balcony or window.

but as soon as he stepped into the living room, he felt himself freeze when he realised something was missing. seungcheol looked around the house, wondering what was bothering him-

oh, y/n.

where were you?

now that he thought about it, he hadn’t even heard you come into the house in the first place. where were you? quickly walking to the key hook near the dining table, he checked for your key in case you had quietly come in and had already gone to bed.

no keys.

shit. where were you? where could you be? it was raining cats and dogs outside so there was no way you could have gone out, right? besides this time at night wasn’t even safe…

seungcheol felt an odd uncomfortable feeling stir in the pit of his stomach, but he ignored it and instead knocked on your bedroom door.

no response.

even though the lights not being on was a clear sign that you weren’t in your room, a small part of him hoped that you were just asleep.

“y/n?” he asked.

no response again.

pushing the door open, seungcheol walked in and flicked the lights on. then he pressed his ears against your bathroom door, hoping to hear the sound of running water at least or better still, your voice singing in the shower.

over the past two months he had been living with you, seungcheol had learnt that you were an avid bathroom singer, and nothing could block your vocals, not even the fact that the two of you were in separate bedrooms.

it had always annoyed him, to be honest. he was used to having quieter mornings, where he had a simple breakfast of a boiled egg and coffee, before rushing off to his office. that was until you came into his life, destroying his peace with your early morning shower concerts and the clattering of utensils as you made a proper breakfast.

and you wouldn’t leave him either. always bugging him that eggs and coffee weren’t enough, that it was unhealthy and that he had to eat more, always forcing him to eat ‘at least a bit of’ whatever you had cooked.

and to make matters worse, you were a great cook. such a good cook that since the last few weeks he would actually wake up hungry, the smell of your cooking wafting into his bedroom to wake him up like an alarm clock.

and he hated it at all. he hated your singing, your cooking, you always checking up on him and you being sweet and caring and nice to him no matter how rude he was. he hated this marriage, he hated how his parents had forced him to this deal, and the only way for him to let out his frustration was by hating on you.

you who was equally stuck like him. you who was at least making some efforts to make this marriage work.

and he had thrown all of that out of the window two days ago.

as silence greeted him back instead of your voice no matter how hard he pressed his ears against the door, seungcheol felt dread rise up his throat.

why was he so childish? why was he so immature? he was so determined to hate you, so determined to block out all your efforts that he had ended up making you cry, he had ended up hurting you.

and even then, he had just told you that you were just tired, as if it was your fault in the first place.

taking in a deep breath, he rushed to the balcony, throwing open the doors with a small hope that you were sitting there, fuming and ignoring him to teach him a lesson.

“oh, y/n-” he stopped himself when he saw it was empty, just filled with water from the rain pouring outside.

panic seized him as he ran back to the house, calling your name like a little child who had lost his mother.

“y/n? y/n!” he yelled, pulling out his phone to call you.

just as he was about to dial your number, seungcheol heard the front door unlock. as he turned towards the door, a completely drenched you stepped in, looking thoroughly tired and exhausted.

in record speed he was by your side, aggressively wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you into a hug. you were so cold, and so wet, that it made him squeeze you even more harder.

“seung- what are you-”

“where were you?” he muttered, feeling his voice quiver as relief flooded him. there were so many things he wanted to ask you, like ask you why you were out so late or if you had dinner yet all he could manage was this simple question.

“first get off me!” you said, trying to push him off, but that just made him tighten his grip on you even more. there was no way he was moving from this spot. “seungcheol, you’ll catch a cold!”

“i don’t care.” he said, feeling the wetness of your clothes seeping into his. you weren’t hugging him back, but he knew he didn’t even deserve it. at least you weren’t pushing him back anymore. “where were you?” he whispered again.

“i was at my office?” you answered dryly, causing him to finally look at you. he frowned at you, not buying your answer even one bit.

“then why are you wet from the rain? where’s your car?”

“my tire got punctured. and because it was late, i wasn’t getting any taxi. so i had to walk back home.”

“why didn’t you call me?” as soon as the question left his lips he felt stupid. he didn’t even have to look at you narrowing your eyes at him to know how dumb his question was. how could he even say that when he was the one who had blocked off all contacts first?

“well, you know the answer to that. now get out of my way. i’m cold, my head hurts and i need a shower-”

“your head hurts?” he asked, feeling panic seize him again. oh god, oh god, you were sick? if you ended up with a cold or fever it would all be his fault. “wait, let me prepare you hot water-”

“you don’t have to do anything.” you said with a smile, though he wasn’t sure if you were sarcastic or not. you were so sweet that he had a hard time now understanding when you were truly mad at him. you shrugged off your coat and was about to walk off with it but he grabbed it from you, causing you to look at him in surprise.

“i’ll, uh, put it in the washing machine.” he said meekly. you blinked at him before slowly nodding and then walking back to your bedroom.

“did you have dinner?” he asked once again, just as you were about to step into the bathroom. this time, he saw your hand clench on the doorknob, as you turned to him to give him a glare.

“doesn’t matter.”

“no, it does. you’re having a headache and i-”

“i said,” you snapped, “it doesn’t matter. just put that coat to the washing machine and go back to sleep. you don’t need to care about me, seungcheol-”

“cheol.” he stopped you, his voice strained. he could finally feel how horrible he was with you and a small part of him was breaking thinking of how he had managed to say those things to you.

that caught you off guard. “what?” you asked, unsure about what he was referring to.

slowly, he walked over to you and when he was right in front of you, he fell to his knees.

“what are-” you began as your hands automatically moved to lift him up but he caught them in his instead, looking up to meet your angry eyes with his tearful ones.

“cheol.” he repeated again. “that’s what you used to call me since the day we met.” he gave your hand a little squeeze as your mouth fell slightly open, drinking in your expression.

god, you were beautiful.

how had he not noticed it? he had always known you were pretty but right now as he looked up at you, he realised you were beautiful.

how blind was he to never notice it? how cruel was he to walk over your kindness? and how damned would he be to treat you this way when you clearly deserved so much more better things?

maybe it was the thought of losing you for a few seconds that had finally opened his eyes.

“i’m so sorry.” he began in a whisper as you continued staring back at him. tears pricked his eyes but he didn’t even bother blinking them away. “i’m so, so sorry y/n. i know i don’t deserve you or your forgiveness but i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry for being this selfish and blaming everything on you. i’m so sorry for making you feel this way when you deserve the world. i’m so sorry you ended up with a jerk like me-”

“seungcheol. cheol.” you cut him off, freeing one of your hands as you gently cupped his cheek. he found himself leaning into your touch, which was warm despite that your entire body was still cold. he felt your thumb brush against his cheek, wiping off a tear as he closed his eyes.

he truly didn’t deserve an angel like you.

“you hurt me, you know.” he heard you say and he opened his eyes to look back at you. you looked so pained right now that he could almost hear his own heart shatter. “i- i tried so hard, and you just-”

“i’m sorry.” he whispered, bringing your hand wrapped in his to his lips. gently brushing them against your skin, he continued. “i- i promise. i’ll work equally hard and make this work. i’ll make sure that this works.”

you sniffled slightly as you smiled back at him softly.

“thank you.” you whispered and he nodded. “thank you so much. it means a lot to me.”

“now go have a shower quickly.” he said, letting your hand go finally. “or else you’ll catch a cold. and by that time i’ll order pork tonkatsu and some other stuff from your favourite restaurant. is that okay?”

you looked at him in surprise.

“how do you know i like pork tonkatsu from that place?”

“you know we share the same wifi right?”

“oh, so you’re those kind of guys who secretly observes and then takes care, huh?” you joked, to which he found himself rolling his eyes.

“yeah, yeah, sure. i’ll be whatever type of guy you want me to be, baby.”

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

#╼ 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒 #╼ [𝟐𝟎:𝟏𝟕]#caratlibrary #scoups x reader #choi seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #scoups fluff #scoups angst #choi seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol angst #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst

727 notes · View notes

zhongrin · 1 year

Text

cium aku dong?

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, childe, wanderer, cyno, al haitham, tighnari, xiao, ayato, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, kaveh, thoma, dottore, pantalone

◇ tags ◇ fluff, domestic, established relationship, kisses. LOTS of kisses (duh), slight angst (kaeya i'm so sorry), slight suggestiveness on some, slight possessiveness on some

◇ a/n ◇ [en] “kiss me please?” aka the ways they ask for a kiss <3 uh? what... what do you mean i clearly have favorites? i-i don't..... *nervous sweating* ANYWAY. merry xmas yall!! we all deserve fluff this holiday season so enjoy <3

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

“can i have my special tea?”

“darling, may i?”

zhongli is a natural at pulling you in for a kiss; most of the time he doesn’t expect you to kiss back, but he would be over the moon if you do.

you’re passing each other in the hallway of your house? he just leans towards you to place a fleeting kiss on your shoulder. you’re doing something and he passes behind you? he leans over to place a kiss on the top of your head and goes off his way. you sit beside him and plop your head on his shoulder? he smiles and scratches your scalp and places a sweet kiss on your forehead.

unfortunately (for you), on some occasions when he’s feeling a little playful, he might become a little tease; kissing you everywhere but your lips until you protest. to which he’ll chuckle fondly before finally giving in, pressing a soft fleeting kiss that promises you more when the curtains close for the day.

“kiss meeeeeeeee!!!!”

“[name]…. who was that person....?”

childe is a master of surprise kisses! he makes use of his skill to erase his presence to sneak up on you when you’re relaxing, before suddenly tackling you into a hug and kissing you all over your face.

when he’s in the mood for kisses, he becomes a ravenous kissing monster who can only be satiated after at least fifty proper kisses. or perhaps a few rounds of long, drawn-out make-out sessions.

just don’t deny him of his kisses because then he’ll brood and it’ll be his poor subordinates who get the burnt of his frustration. and if you get gifts on your doorstep with a recruit insignia badge, you probably should storm your boyfriend’s office before he actually kills someone.

“what? what’s that look for? heh, if you wanted a kiss you could’ve just asked. i~diot.” *cue the heart-piercing, soul-ascending blep*

“hey. come here.”

wanderer is either endlessly taunting you for the whole day, or being very blunt (while blushing furiously) as he motions you to come over. there’s no in-between.

you either kiss him, which will result in a smug smirk and perhaps a haughty ‘hmph, knew you can’t get enough of me’. or you just don’t… which means you’ve indirectly signed an agreement for him to be a total brat™️ for the day until he’s satisfied.

ohhh how unfortunate, your favorite scarf is blown away by the wind. ooooh, seems like it’s raining and there’s no shelter, too bad you don’t have a hat that can function as an umbrella. ooooo, what’s that? you want a hug?

ha.

in. your. dreams.

and yet when you kiss him he melts into you within 0.001 seconds.

“[name], did you know? sloths never kiss on the first date…… they take it slow.”

“can i… hold you? just for a bit?”

when the kiss puns start to drop left right and center, you know it’s cyno’s way to ask for a kiss.

... the man uses his jokes to get people to be less way of them instead of saying it out loud, what did you expect?

he might not realize it, but he stares at you especially hard on these occasions. if it were others, they would have feared for your life, but you know this is cyno’s version of the infamous wet puppy eyes. personally, you think it’s very adorable because it’s so very him, so you can’t help but pretend you don't understand just to tease him more.

the population thinks you must be some kind of a beast tamer in your past life, seeing as how the general mahamatra always faithfully follows behind you and always back down as soon as your touch descends upon him.

“you’re here. come sit. now kiss me.”

“i need to kiss you so you can testify to kaveh that i am, in fact, not an amateur when it comes to kissing. it would also be good if you can rate your satisfaction on a scale of one to ten- [name], where are you going?”

at the early stages of your relationship, al haitham isn't as insufferable; he takes what he gets, and he’s taking the time to get used to the idea of how he practically has the right to kiss you now.

but when that realization fully, truly sinks in?

oh boy.

he’ll be blunt, straight to the point, and unashamed. he might be blushing the first few times when he asked for your permission for a kiss. but seeing how much you got into it, hearing the breathless way you whisper his name, and witnessing the dopey smile after he’s done with you…

aha. eureka. it appears his expertise extends to kissing too. but of course, he is, as the youngsters these days say, ‘built different’, after all.

so why would he shy away from the activity?

now come kiss him.

“did you know that fennec foxes go through withdrawals when they don’t receive at least ten kisses per day? it’s true, i have conducted extensive research on it. with me as the research subject, of course, so i know the result is 99.99% reliable.”

“there, i gave you headpats. now will you give me kisses?”

always so dramatic and sassy. tighnari loves seeing the embarrassed look that crosses your face and the adorable giggles that escapes you whenever he tries to initiate the activity.

the fox hybrid likes to pat your head and lean forward so you can press a thank you kiss to his face. he doesn’t even mind where your kiss will land.

nose? kinda ticklish, but that’s very cute of you. cheek? adorable, why thank you. lips? hmmm… do that again.

“……….. what? i-i wasn’t staring!”

“[name], just a moment…. stay still.”

please just save xiao the embarrassment and kiss him regularly.

although your boyfriend might not look like he enjoys affection, he actually does. he’s just… not used to it and has no idea how to react, much less initiate physical affection. it’s something that he needs a lot of time to get used to, especially with his condition and background.

your protector yaksha is always so gentle when he asks for your loving touches - and most of the time he doesn’t even dare to ask - but the signs are there. you’ll really have to squint your eyes and tilt your head and maybe do a handstand before you realize ‘oh he wants a kiss’.

just. cuddle and kiss him darn it.

“my, what a fine morning, don’t you agree, sweetheart? it would be even more perfect if i had a morning kiss from my lovely partner, don’t you think?”

“there you are. lock the door for me, darling. now, why don't you make yourself comfortable?”

teasing words here and there, his hand touching your arm more than usual, him stopping when you pass each other in the hallway to make some insignificant small talk even though he’s clearly hurrying to a meeting…

yeah, your overworked man is in dire need of some loving.

if you give in and pull ayato for a quick kiss, he will skip over to his next appointment with a permanent smile. once again, you’ve saved the day of everyone in kamisato estate. great work, you! pat yourself on the back because you deserved it!

but continue to ignore him and you might find yourself being called to his office just to sit on his lap for hours (which, trust me, it gets boring after a while) without kisses or any sort of affection whatsoever... so pick your actions carefully.

“i know i should be working. but i wanted to… take a break.”

“love, your lips… n-no. it's just that. um. they look dry. here, use my chapstick.”

diluc? taking a break from work??

that diluc???

either he is very sick, or he is very much starved for your love. kindly think back on your day and check when was the last time you gave him a proper kiss, please.

what's that? you gave him a forehead kiss this morning to wake him up? oh. i’m sorry to say this but that’s just not enough. how dare you starve this man for four hours with no kisses. no wonder he’s unable to focus on his documents. please fulfill his lovesick daydream by barging into his office and distracting him from work with your wonderful, soft lips….

... please?

“work? mmm…. unfortunately my battery is near-empty… o kind, beautiful soul, would you help this poor man back to his feet?”

“hello my love, i came by because your lips look lonely.”

kaeya is very obviously a teasing flirt when he’s needy or bored. mostly he adores the embarrassed look on your face; he thinks it's very adorable and endearing. it's a sight he wishes to treasure and forever imprint in his mind, to peruse when doubt and darker thoughts attack him at night.

but let me tell you a secret.

yank his stupid coat and pull him into a kiss before he can use that sultry voice to tease you. kabedon him when you have the chance to, while you’re at it. watch the cavalry captain become putty in your hands. you’re welcome <3

“my dove, would you be so kind to quench this wandering man’s thirst for your sweet kisses?”

“it’s rather windy today… there you go, all set. ah, it's okay, i'm not cold. oh, i forgot. just one more thing- *kiss*…. hehe, i can see that you’re warming up already.”

longing looks and poetic words. kazuha kisses you like it’s a stray wind brushing gently on your lips, light and dreamy and leaving you wanting for more. his ruby eyes will droop with affection as you whine and pull him back for more contact. well, who is he to reject your generous invitation?

soon enough one peck becomes two, two becomes three, and then it turns into a soft makeout session and- oh is that beidou yelling at you both to get a room? haha, it seems like it’s time to change locations…

“[name] look, i finished the blueprint for our dream house! huh? oh, yeah this is the… what, fifth blueprint? well, i can’t help it! we should have at least seven houses in all seven nations- eh? t-the mora? uhhhhh…”

“i need… i need inspiration… my muse… i need my muse…”

you know it’s bad bad when kaveh trudges onto your side like a zombie that’s been out running after people’s brains for far too long.

he slumps onto you completely (good luck supporting a claymore user) and basks in your presence, arms wound tight on your middle section. it seems like you’ve deprived him of kisses for far too long. he’ll recover faster if you hug him back and run your fingers through his silky locks. when he pulls back slightly to pout at you, and you place a sweet kiss on his lips, it’s like you’ve flipped a switch.

the legendary architect's eyes widen and his downturned lips flip upside down. he kisses you back with vigor and runs back to his drawing room shouting about some new calculations and other kind of materials he could use. what a dork.

“[name]….” *insert the most adorable, heart-wrenching, chest-squeezing, wet puppy eyes here*

“i’ll be going now. have a good day, okay? i love you!”

like a faithful shiba inu, thoma beams and stares at you expectantly near the front door of your shared residence, waiting for that kiss you never fail to give him every single time he’s about to head out to work in the mornings.

will you ignore him and risk getting ayaka to visit you because ‘thoma seems very sad and distracted today, did you have a fight? why don’t you talk it out, i know you both treasure each other', or will you be an angel and make him start his day with the loveliest gift you can bestow your loyal lover?

“based on the monitoring data of your hormones over the past few hours, it seems that you’re in need of kisses. what? me, lying? making up facts? listen to me. who’s the doctor in this relationship?”

“it appears another segment of mine has been granted the privilege of a kiss, so i demand equal treatment.”

sure, doc. hormones screaming for a kiss. will experience lethargy for the rest of the day if not fulfilled. immediate treatment is preferred as he does not want to be stuck with a grumpy, needy lover for the rest of the day, blah blah blah-

look. i'll translate for you.

he wants a kiss. dottore wants a kiss. just give the mad doctor a kiss.

huh? which segment do you give a kiss to?

….. it seems like all of them want a kiss. you know, just to be fair.

good luck.

“good day, darling. i see that you’re wearing the necklace i bought you yesterday. you look ravishing indeed.”

“come here, love. i won’t ask twice.”

with every compliment directed your way and with every piece of new jewels added to your collections, pantalone expects you to give back some sort of affection. naturally. everything is a give-and-take, no? he provides you with all the luxuries and convenience a normal civilian can only dream of, and you provide him with what he asks for.

he’s not even asking for much - just don’t look at other men, focus on him and his needs, and pull him into a kiss every fifteen minutes. it's not hard of a task at all. surely you can fulfill it? otherwise, perhaps some disciplinary sessions are in order...

5K notes · View notes

daddyfordaeddy · 2 months

Text

Pairing: werewolf! Yunho x f! yn (you can imagine yn as any species, she's kept ambiguous)

Word Count: 1910

Warnings: cursing, smut warnings under cut

Genre: Fluff, smut, supernatural au, werewolf au, E for explicit

Summary: On the week of the solstice, Yunho's rut starts.

Written for @cultofdionysusnet’s winter solstice event <3 took me a bit to get it down lol, and a big thank you to @sanjoongie for beta'ing hehehehehe <3 love u bae

Smut Warnings: unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), praise, degredation, cum play, breast play, lactation kink (guys ignore the science behind it), knotting, breeding kink, overstimulation, subspace (i think it falls under it), creampie, multiple rounds, pet names

I've never written a werewolf au before so i hope its good <3

You perk up at the sound of the door opening, hearing the tell-tale signs of your boyfriend jingling his house keys as he hangs up his coat. “Yunho, you’re home early,” you call out, finishing up washing your lunch plates and wiping your hands. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong, my love,” Yunho responds, his voice liting. You know the sound well—his pre-rut is starting and you’re sure he’s hard in his pants. “I just got sent home because I started my pre-rut early. Must be the solstice.”

Bingo. The week of the winter solstice is when the werewolves’ inner selves are their strongest, and schedules are thrown off every year. You’ve been quite excited for this year’s solstice rut—the last two Yunho wasn’t comfortable enough sharing that side with you and after long discussions, it will be the first time you spend it with him.

You take a deep breath in before coming around the corner to properly greet your boyfriend, unwilling to make him feel pressured by your eagerness. “Do you want something to eat?” you ask as you wrap your arms around him and tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. “I can make you the beef we have in the freezer.”

Yunho shakes his head, letting it drop to your shoulder. He takes a deep breath in, enjoying the scent of your body wash. “No, not right now,” he sighs through his nose. “I need a moment. You– you smell good.”

You open your mouth to say something but your breath catches in your throat as you feel his growing hardness against your hip. You knew his dick was big, but…it feels…bigger. Subconsciously, you squeeze your thighs together.

“YN.”

Yunho’s voice breaks you out of your fantasies. “Ah– yes?”

“Are you ready?” His voice is strained and you cock your head, confused. His eyes are dark and he licks his lips, neck veins popping as he holds himself back. “Coming home didn’t help with my pre-rut. You smell too good. Too fertile. I need you and I need you to tell me yes or no now before I lose control.”

“Fertile?” Your eyes widen more and you only vaguely remember a conversation held a while ago when Yunho warned you that in his solstice-rut, his wild instincts take over more so than usual and he will be saying and doing some out-of-pocket things. And somehow, it only serves to make heat sear in your core.

“Answer me, YN.” Yunho’s voice dips and your arms tighten around his waist.

“Yes.”

Teeth sink into your neck and your hands scrabble to grip at Yunho’s back, scratching down the skin. You’re sure there will be marks when the morning comes, not that it would bother him at all.

“Shit– Yunho–” you moan, back arching as your boyfriend drives his thick, throbbing cock deep inside you. “Fuck–”

You can hardly get a word out without Yunho rearranging your guts with every thrust. You should’ve known this was bound to happen, with the winter’s solstice landing on a full moon, and in turn, the werewolf’s rut landing on the week of the solstice. Not that you’re complaining about how perfectly Yunho nails each thrust into you.

“Look at you, lying there so perfect for me,” Yunho groans into your neck where he has been littering bite marks all over your skin. You’re sure if anyone who didn’t know the both of you saw it, they’d be worried for your safety. But the deep purple marks only serve to make you proud of your boyfriend. “Letting me use your sloppy pussy to my heart's desire like the whore you are.”

Not a thought exists in your brain as Yunho bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, where the old scarring from his mating bite sits. You’re pretty sure you’re melting into the sheets as he grabs your waist and moves you up and down on his twitching member like a ragdoll.

Come spills out of you so easily but Yunho doesn’t stop, just fucking it back into you and letting it foam up around the base of his cock where his knot is slowly growing.

You can’t even count how many orgasms you’ve had at this point, every time you think you can’t, Yunho somehow manages to drag one after another out of your body. The only thing you can feel is Yunho’s cock pounding into you at an unforgiving pace, stretching you out so deliciously.

Your boyfriend has come a couple of times too, your thighs and pussy lips coated in the sticky white substance, but he still hasn’t popped his knot and you know this isn’t going to end until he does. With a groan, you try to shift up, but the bite he has on your skin increases and his hands grip your hips even tighter. “Ah–” you moan, sinking back onto the pillow. You can feel pleasure roll in your stomach and your cunt clench, and you know you’re on the brink of your nth orgasm of the night.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” Yunho whines in your ear, his thrusts erratic and you can feel the base of his cock swelling. “You’re going to look so pretty carrying my pups, all round and perfect for me. God, I’d fuck you over and over just for you to carry my babies. My little cumdump.”

You moan, his words pushing you over to your next orgasm and you throw your head back in a silent scream. You swear your vision goes white and you can hardly hear anything as your hips and cunt convulse. Through your high, you can vaguely feel Yunho still snapping his hips into you as he moans against your neck.

And just as you come down, you feel him push his thick knot inside you, stretching out your walls even further. As soon as it pops in, you can feel him shudder and his dick twitch as searing come fills you up so full. “Shit–” you groan, grinding down subconsciously at the feeling. “Your knot is so big inside of me, baby.”

Yunho groans, thrusting as much as he can, the slightest bit of cum leaking out around his hard cock. Your thighs are burning but you can hardly feel it, just another addition to the pleasure slowly building once again. You’re not quite sure how much more you can take, but you don’t mind finding out.

Before you can think too much more, Yunho’s mouth travels down until he reaches your chest, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking gently on it. “Oh–” you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut at the sparks it sends straight to your core. The way he flicks his tongue around the bud makes you shiver and your hands come up to grasp at the soft strands of his hair.

“These tits are so perfect, God,” Yunho groans around the mound of flesh. “Taste so perfect for me. Look at you baby, I’m affecting you so much in my rut you’re making milk, huh.”

Your eyes widen and they trail down your body to see the milky liquid trickling out of your nipples. “Yun–”

“Hush and let me taste you some more,” Yunho groans, dipping his head to capture your breast in his mouth again.

His voice is deeper than the ocean, rough around the edges, and it sends vibrations through your body. The grip he has on your hips tightens even further and you’re sure you’ll have bruises blooming in no time. Without warning, he bites down on your sensitive nipples and you squeal, fingers pulling at his hair as your cunt grips down on his cock. Without mercy, his fingers immediately come up to play with your unattended nipple, rolling the bud between the digits. You can feel milk streaming out of it and you moan.

“Yunho, please,” you don’t know what you’re begging for, and Yunho chuckles.

“So needy for me again, slut,” he hums around your breast, sharp teeth scraping the skin gently.

You open your mouth to complain, but before any words can come out, you feel a great pressure on your pussy and with a pop Yunho pulls his knot out. “Fuck!” His hips have been slowly grinding into you, knot deflating bit by bit, but it was still big enough to sting when he pulled it out carelessly. But the pain is what you absolutely adore and your mouth drops open as he leaves the tip of his cock in your hole.

It’s still pumping come into you slowly, but with how loose you are after that fucking, you can feel his come pouring out of you. You try to squeeze your legs together to stop the flow and keep the full feeling, but your legs are too jelly to even curl your toes. Yunho just chuckles, bringing the hand down that was playing with your breast to lazily press his come back into you, as well as the milk clinging to his fingers.

“God, you don’t understand how much I want to taste you right now,” Yunho growls, his cock twitching again. “But keeping you nice and full and stuffed is my top priority. Fill you with my pups and keep your tits full.”

Before you can say or do anything again, he slowly pushes his dick back in your wet heat, his knot popping back inside you with ease. Your body is hardly able to react, soft moans and whines spilling out of your mouth.

As Yunho smirks down at you, he scoops up the leftover come on your walls and brings his fingers to his mouth, licking off the sticky remains. “Fuck, you taste just how I dreamed of,” he sighs, eyes fluttering shut as he flashes his sharp canines. “Really should keep you warm and pregnant for me—you’re so impossible, YN. I don’t know how the fuck you do this to me.”

You don’t think he even knows what he’s saying, too drunk on the winter solstice’s power to fully comprehend what he’s saying. You can’t get pregnant from him right now anyways, the birth control you use specifically for multi-species relationships. Plus, his come doesn’t have the right potency until the full moon and there’s no way in hell you’re letting that monstrous cock near you (although you dream about it).

Your thoughts are cast away as Yunho’s hands come up to fondle your breasts again, causing more milk to leak out and he immediately dips his head down to suck at your peaked nipples. “Yunho,” you breathe out, no energy to call out his name even louder, “please.”

The ache of your body is finally hitting you and you’re limp on the stained sheets. The haze in Yunho’s eyes clear up a little and he shifts, keeping his cock in you but slowing his grinding. “You’re so sweet for me, YN, letting me use you like this. You can sleep if you want, I need the knot to go down anyway.” His large hands leave your breasts to brush strands of hair away from your sweaty face. “I’ll wake you up for dinner,” he hums, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

Exhaustion takes over your body and you feel your eyes flutter shut as Yunho continues to stroke your hair. “I love you, puppy,” you mumble, halfway to sleep already.

“I love you too, my moon.”

#cultofdionysusnet #LongNight23 #pirateeznet #kvanity #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #yunho fanfiction #yunho fanfic #yunho smut #yunho x reader #smut

293 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 10 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐄𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: The Hunt 🔞

Every year, he joins the old tradition of traveling, where his ancestors have once ruled the skies. Every year, he meets familiar faces and new ones he's never seen before. Every year, he watches how his brothers find their mates, build their families, and introduce new generations to stories as old as time. But this year, something might be different. This year, there's you - a treasure worth more than he could ever offer.

Main Tags/Warnings: Dragon!Jungkook, strangers to lovers/mates, mentions of folklore and traditions, modern fantasy, romance, Dragon!Reader, it's finally here, Primal Play who would've thought, intense making out, sexual tension, smut, rough but sensual, protected sex you know me by now I always manage to sneak protection into these situations and so should you, biting, strength kink oops, knotting oops², Jungkook steals her underwear wait what-, outdoor sex, FLUFF

Length: 3.2k words

There is no taglist for this fic

Masterlist

A/N: Hi hello please eat well thank you

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🐉── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

The hunt is something you never thought you'd experience for yourself.

You're not really a fan of men constantly barking about how capable and masculine they are- when down the line all it's built on is insecurity and mommy-issues. Dragonkin of your age tend to be like that however. And so for the longest time, you had simply told yourself to leave the community entirely, and just live a normal human life away from your roots, like most female dragonkin do.

And then- well, then came Jungkook.

While at first, you didn't really trust him, you now know that it was mostly because he just felt.. too good to be true. There just had to be something off about him, something bad that he's hiding- and maybe there is, and he's just an extraordinarily skilled manipulator. But even if he is, you don't mind any longer. He can have you.

But not without any fight from your end.

The festival is in full force now, and as you step outside, you're immediately greeted by the sounds of music, people laughing and dancing, and food being cooked and eaten. You keep your eyes open for any sign of Jungkook being present-

after all, the moon is high up, meaning that the hunt, even now as you just finished your own part of the tradition inside the house, is on.

Any second now he could grab you, and you'd be officially his.

You've cleaned your body and made sure to use a scented body oil right after- lavender, to confuse his senses. You're not going to make it easy, not now, and not ever. If he wants to be with you, and more so stay with you, he's going to have to put in work as well- and you want him to know that right from the start. You're a dragonkin, just like him after all. You're not going to stay with someone who thinks he's a treasure, but in reality is just cheap metals acting like it.

But for now, you'll keep an eye out for him as you stand by a grill, getting some food for yourself while he's probably already hunting you in silence, waiting for his chance to strike.

And true to that, unbeknownst to you, he is already stalking his treasure, waiting for the perfect moment.

He's picked up your scent already, heavily masked by the floral body oil and the shampoo you've used for your hair today. The night of the Hunt is always special- both him and you wash off anything of the past still clinging to your bodies, before you dive in and give into your instincts, to lead you where you want to be in the future.

Either together, or apart. If you want the latter, you'll need to escape him until the sun starts to rise. But he feels like that won't happen- because just a moment later, as he walks around a corner, there in the distance, he can see you.

As soon as he spots you, it’s like his instincts take ahold of him. There’s no denial of the power you already hold over him, one glance enough to trap him into abandoning anything he was going to do- instead, his legs already moving, feet on their way to follow where you’re leading him. Through the crowds and past dancing people, the lights and lanterns glow as if to help him in keeping up with you.

The jump in your step makes it the more clear to him that you’re clearly enjoying this, teasing him almost; the bell on your anklet a siren song putting him into a trance, helplessly cursed to follow wherever you go.

And then you turn around, impish smile on your lips as you catch his hand, pulling him closer to you as you jump and dance to the music being played, but only for a moment, before your hands push against his chest, the chase finally starting as you give him the final sign to catch you now.

You’re offering him a chance- and he’d be stupid not to take it.

Your laughter makes it horribly easy to follow you through the woods, stray lanterns here and there helping his human sight to stand a chance during this night. The music has grown faint, drums still heavy and noticeable, just like the other instruments and laughing people back at the main grounds. He can hear your breathing by now, and it fuels his own desire because it’s a sign that he’s almost made it.

He can’t let you get away now.

You can hear him close behind, boots heavy on the forest floor as he never seems to lose sight of you- and you wouldn’t want him to, either. He’s already proven himself as a more than suitable mate, as more than a potential friend or lover. But he’s a bit cocky, a little bit too proud and up in the clouds- a lesson is due it seems for the tall dragon chasing you as if he’s the apex predator.

Sure, the anklet he gave you might be a little bit of a hassle- but nothing you can’t handle. He thinks he’s already got you pinned. He thinks you’ll just make it easy.

It’s time to prove him wrong.

Swiftly you grab the hem of your dress to hold it up, before you change your direction, ducking under heavy trunks of fallen trees before you jump over others too close to the ground, your goal in sight as you can head him almost growl under his breath as he encounters the many hurdles you’ve already gotten over.

With enough time to spare now, you start to climb the tree in front of you-

Only for his wrist to catch your ankle, delicate golden bell almost mocking you as it jingles, both of you panting as he grins up from his spot on the ground. His black hair is wild and curled at the ends, his eyes piercing with excitement as he slowly catches his breath. You still at least move to sit on one of the thick branches able to easily support your weight, his hold on your leg still present, though it relaxes as you look at him. “Caught you.” He says happily, as if he’s just made his greatest achievement to this date and you smile.

He can’t quite grasp that he’s really got you now.

“You did.” You answer back, wind rustling the crowns full of leaves of the trees all around you both, music faint in the background. “What’re you gonna do now?” You ask him, and he chuckles, lip running over his bottom lip before he answers, stepping closer, making you shiver in anticipation.

“First, I’ll get my treasure down from that tree..” he starts, easily pulling you down just like he said- catching you, thankfully, as he holds you by your waist, eyes running over your body, finally able to have you up close like this. “…then, I’ll admire it..” he continues lowly, no need to put much volume into his voice as he does just what he says, one of his hands moving to run through your hair, exposing the side of your neck to him, a place still bare but soon to wear his mark of love.

“ ..and then?” You ask quietly, making his smile grow as he leans down close, breath hot against your skin.

“..and then I’ll claim it.” He says, lips faintly brushing against your ear.

And you smile, grin spreading, before you tilt your head.

"Good luck with that." You hum against his lips which are just a breath away- and his gaze widens just for a split second before you sneakily dash away from him and out of his grasp, running faster than before deeper into the surrounding woods. You're really not making it easy for him at all.

And he loves it, muscles aching to get a final grasp on you now.

You're going to be his.

He can see you in the distance getting closer, no match for his stamina at the end of the day as he slowly catches up with you. He's got to give you that- you're not stupid at all, instincts clearly sharp and working well. Instead of trying to outrun him, you constantly twist and turn, trying to confuse him instead. But it doesn't work this easily on him.

Especially because he knows that you're having just as much.. fun as he does.

He can smell you.

He's already won. You just want to see if he truly wants to earn his spot at your side it seems like. And he does- he wants to prove his worth in more ways than just this. What you don't know, is that he's not just running after you- he's not hunting you anymore, but more so herding you into the direction he so wants you to run towards.

And just like sheep, you run right where he wants you to.

It's a split second where he can see you trip, almost falling, if not for his hand reaching out to grab the back of your white dress to yank you backwards into his chest where he holds you. You're both breathing heavily, chests rising and falling at a rapid pace, before he finally gets out a question.

"You okay?" He asks, and you nod, reassuring him quietly. "Looks like I caught you again." He chuckles, and you laugh too, still out of breath.

"Pure luck." You hum out, before you lean into him-

giving up.

giving yourself to him.

"I can give you a third chance." He offers teasingly almost, though he does mean it. You shake your head however, denying it. You don't actually want to run from him anymore.

You're fine with staying at his side.

"No." You hum, leaning your head back into his body. "You caught me." You admit, breathing finally evening out, and he smiles down at you, before he turns you around, and holds your face in his hands to finally kiss you- hungry and eager, after the chance had been taken away moments prior by you.

He's no longer wasting time.

You're not sure where he's walking you towards, his lips chasing away any coherent thought it feels like, but even if you could form a functioning thought right now, you wouldn't actually fight him at all.

"Jungk-" You gasp when his knee pushes between your legs, your back against a tree behind you while his hands waste no time to touch you. Currently occupied with feeling your chest through your dress, he's almost growling into your mouth as he grabs at your flesh, all while he steals your breath, lips working tirelessly against your own.

There's nothing that's holding him back any longer. He doesn't need to restrain himself.

"I told you how it's gonna go, didn't I?" He says, finally giving you some chance to breath, while he lifts his leg a little, pushing further into you. "I caught you.." He hums against your lips, slipping out of his jacket to move a bit more freely, hands gripping the hem of your dress to push it up so his palms can explore what skin you're hiding beneath. "Now I'm gonna make you mine." He grins down at you.

"Right here?" You ask, but he knows from the sight of your eager hips alone that you're not against the idea at all.

"Right here.." he agrees therefore, leaning down to kiss you feverishly, hands unable to keep still as they explore your body, anklet around your foot jingling every now and then with every movement you make. You could've taken it off at any point-

But you didn't. You accept him. You want him. And it only fuels his need for you.

"Jungkook please-" you beg, raising your hips to try and reach him. He knows what you want, what you crave.

"Hm?" He asks, biting at your neck before he kisses the marks soothingly. "You sound so sweet." He comments with amusement, while you grip his wrists, needing to hold onto something. He's not marked you up yet- and you wonder why not. He's got the chance now. You want him too. You want him to claim you, just like he said.

His hand between your legs is feeling you up, exploring, trying to prepare you for what's possibly to come. Maybe even just checking if you're getting ready yourself.

And what he finds gives him his definite answer.

"You were made for me, weren't you?" He coos at you, a smile on his lips as he watches you squirm, before he moves his hands, gripping the sides of your underwear, the sound of fabric ripping cutting through the silent woods around you. It happens twice- and then the fabric is gone, a cool gust of wind leaving you shivering for a second, wet skin exposed to the elements while he sneaks your ripped underwear into the pocket of his pants. It's an action you don't notice-

and it doesn't matter anyways, as his fingers enter you, exploring what makes you squirm and what makes your breath hitch.

You're clinging onto him, and he loves the feeling of your fingers on his skin, desperation making you uncaring of how you might come off as towards him. He wants you just like this- raw, unfiltered, wild. After all, there's dragonblood running in both of your veins. Flames burn under your skin, never to be tamed, only ever bowing to the one you'll call your mate.

And he knows he'll bow to you if you just say so, no shame in the thought at all.

He's yours.

He honestly had given up on the thought of ever really getting together with another dragonkin, considering his lack of interest, and the small amount of female dragons still participating in festivities like these. He knows that it's a complicated issue where no one's really truly entirely at fault- but having you in his hands like this makes him hopeful that maybe not all is lost yet. There's still chances for dragons to find and love each other-

You're both a prime example.

You're awfully fidgety now, clearly trying to get him to get you off- but he just chuckles. "No." He suddenly says, and you look at him, confused before you can hear his belt buckle, jeans falling down to his knees, his length already way beyond ready. He's impressive, just like any dragonkin- the distinctive shape of his cock reminding you of what will happen if he goes in raw like this.

And apparently, that's exactly what he wants to do, as he adjusts your hands on his shoulders, eyes sharp and filled to the brim with nothing but lust.

"Hold onto me, my love." He growls out to you, before he holds underneath your thighs, resting your back against the bark of the tree behind you, needing some sort of help to guide the tip of his leaking length towards your equally sodden entrance, before he lets your body lean down onto it, filling you up.

You're instantly clenching around him, feeling like you've finally been made whole.

You're clinging onto him, arms around his neck, before he adjusts the placement of his hands, now on your ass as he helps you move, skin slapping against skin while you whimper into his neck, your kisses on the skin shaky, as you try and keep yourself from biting him. Your head is dizzy, barely able to think much more than about him, his scent, his hands on you, his body so close, his mouth even closer as he breathes down your neck, his cock balls deep inside you.

You're sure you've by now stained even his skin in your arousal. You must be- because the smell of sex is all around you both.

He slows down for a moment, before he takes a few steps, leaning down on his knees before your back is placed on something..

soft?

You're a little curious where you are, but he gives you no chance to really take a look around, when he pushes himself back into you, hands pushing your dress out of the way, before he grips at the neckline of it, fabric loudly protesting against the way he pulls on it to expose your naked chest to him. He's ruining your clothes-

and you couldn't care less, as you feel him thrust inside you again, his pace now much more controlled, much more calculated. The grip he has on your wrists will surely leave them red for a while, and you want all of his marks he's willing to give you.

"Jungkook-" you whine, breathing heavily, back arching and hips squirming as you reach your peak. "-please-" You beg, and he knows exactly what you want.

"You want my mark?" He asks, and you nod, wrists wiggling around to instead move, holding his hands, interlocking your fingers. "You want to be mine?" He asks, and you yet again agree, feeling him stutter in his pace as well.

And then he leans down, hands on your back picking you up, position changing yet again as he pulls you close by your ass, helping you in your hips moving, obscene sounds coming from the both of you while he pushes your hair out of the way, kissing up the path to your neck where he decides for the best spot to place his bond.

And as he bites down, he feels something he didn't quite expect-

You doing just the same to him.

It catches him off guard so much, that he instantly reaches his own orgasm, length swelling inside you to keep him locked in place as his cock spurts into you, coating your insides in his clear cum. He doesn't have to worry about accidentally knocking you up- after all, that's another part of his dragonblood, something to differentiate him from regular humans. The first time with his mate, he's only claiming you- mixing up your scents, creating an entirely new one, bonding himself to you for the rest of your lifes.

And he knew you willingly gave yourself to him at the end of this hunt- but to have you claim him too, definitely gives him a boost of confidence in your now shared future together.

You're both breathing heavily, your thighs still shaking from your orgasm that's still drumming through you, as you hold onto him for dear life. Only now do you finally have time to look around a little, noticing the numerous blankets you're both sitting on, and only now do you realize just how much more thought he'd put into all of this than you originally thought he would.

He really isn't at all what you thought he'd be, as a dragonkin.

And it's the last thing, the last proof you need to finally let yourself be held by him, his hands running over your exposed skin as if to make sure you stay warm as the wind rushes softly through the crowns of the trees around you, while he nuzzles the spot of your mark on your neck, occasional kisses placed as if they could help it heal faster. He's probably all foggy inside his head, and you don't mind letting yourself feel the emotions as well-

shutting your brain off, as you lean into his chest, arms around him holding him tightly, while his chest rumbles with the purrs of pleasure and happiness.

You're finally his.

And he'll always be yours.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook x reade #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n

1K notes · View notes

themotherofhorses · 9 months

Text

pairing: bodyguard!aemond targaryen x president's daughter!reader

warnings: explicit language. secret relationship. some sweet fluff. a highkey dark & obsessive aemond (as usual, that’s basically my brand). babytrapping. mentions of tiddy sucking but that’s rlly it.

notes: hi my little loves, long time no write. several months back, @welight-theway asked for a continuation of the bodyguard!aemond fic, so here it is! hope you enjoy it !! 🫶🏼

also im literally walking out the door as i post this, to walk the graduation stage and get my bachelor's hehe. 2nd gen college student over here 🥰

masterlist

As funny as it might sound, it was your breasts that tipped him off to the little one in your belly.

Sergeant Aemond One-Eye Targaryen is unashamedly a boob man — one so incredibly obsessed with your boobs, as much so as he is with the rest of your body, heart, and soul combined. He actually remembers this particular shirt (a low-cut halter top in his favorite color) you wore to a close friend’s birthday dinner; it looked absolutely stunning on you, showing off the perfect teasingly amount of cleavage that left his mouth watering and pants painfully tight. He helped you sneak out of the house with it, knowing that your father would’ve busted the vein in his forehead if he saw. It was three weeks into his new job as your personal bodyguard and four long years into his infatuation with you.

But that was around four months, and now he has you, and knows you — both inside and out.

So when your pretty face scrunches up in obvious discomfort when he sucks on your right boob and gnaws at your nipple, he is left raising an eyebrow. He has your boobs in his mouth all the time… the short hiss that soon follows between gritted teeth is a bit concerning as well. What is wrong, baby? he coos. It feels sore, you whine, hiding your face in his neck. Hurts too, daddy. Don’t like it. And you’re right, he realizes. Both your breasts and nipples appear more swollen than usual, puffy and tender, and maybe even … a bit plumper too?

Aemond thinks he has a faint grasp of what might be going on with his sweet girl.

He spends the following week eyeing your every movement around him, studying the way you walk and talk, eat and sleep, and how often you might visit the restroom. Frequent urination, odd food cravings, some complaints of minor backache here and there, and midday fatigue … when he googles ‘signs you might be pregnant’ later that evening, his suspicions are correct.

You are pregnant…with his baby. Oh. OH! Aemond is simply over the moon. He wants to cry and shout and pound his chest in happiness, manners and etiquette be damned. And he didn’t think it was actually possible, but he feels himself falling deeper in love with you, his mind constantly muddled with the sight of you fucked so full of him.

This … this is what you were made for, he knows — carrying all his babies, giving him the family he deserves.

“You’ve made me a daddy,” he mumbles against your stomach, careful not to stir you. You’re cuddled around a silk body pillow, exhausted from the four orgasms he gave you, fisting the sheets in a tight grip. “Good girl.” He then presses a tiny, feathery kiss above your belly button, gently dragging his lips across your soft skin, before closing his eyes. Aemond remembers a dreamlike fantasy he had around two years ago, back when he was stationed overseas at Ali Al Salem in Kuwait. He had been napping in an army tent, your picture clutched between his thumb and index finger.

(His favorite picture. Your father had posted it on Instagram as a birthday post; you were sitting at the dinner table with a strawberry shortcake cupcake centered in front of you, the 18-shaped candle poking out of the thick frosting.)

In his dream, you were his pretty little housewife, fingers laced together as you anxiously awaited your husband’s return. Once his laced-up combat boots stepped inside the American airport, you flung yourself into his arms, pleading with him never to leave you again. And he promised. Gods, did he promise. You were everything and more, how could he possibly neglect you again? He woke up only five minutes later, just when you were shyly spreading your legs open, and he was catching a glimpse of your wet cunt; he could’ve cursed the world and murdered someone at that moment.

Aemond almost wishes he could tell that younger sergeant that it’ll all be worth it. All that fucking fixation and hard work would play out in the end, and his ship would arrive at the right dock, and she’d be there to greet him.

Two months in, he notices all the small changes in your body. You’re none the wiser, of course, but your breasts are fuller, and your pretty face is carrying a new glow that shines along your cheekbones and smile. And the baby bump isn’t quite obvious yet, although that doesn’t stop his attention from constantly straying down to your tummy, in hopes of seeing something — anything — poke out. How could he not admire his beautiful and pregnant woman?

I know you’re in there, he sometimes thinks to himself, mostly in amusement. You might have fooled your mother, but not your daddy.

Three and a half weeks later, he kisses the tip of your nose and lips before whispering the news in your ear. Your head tilts in equal shock and confusion while your eyes widen and eyebrows furrow. “I’m…pregnant?” you breathe out. You then squint down, watching as your palm flattens across your lower belly. “Are… are you sure?”

He nods. “The signs are all there, baby.”

“What signs?”

“Remember when you were complaining about your breasts earlier?” You nod. He continues, “-sore and sensitive breasts are usually a sign of pregnancy. Haven’t you noticed that they’re a bit… fuller as well? Cup ‘em, baby, feel them.”

You do as he says, cupping your breasts. Around your nipples is a little tenderness that does hurt a bit, and they do fill out in your hands, but you didn’t think much of it before. You chalked it up to PMSing but now… now you’re left speechless, unable to process anything else but the fact you might actually be pregnant. Chuckling, Aemond rests his hands on your shoulders before pressing his forehead against yours. In his lone eye — both happiness and pride.

“I’m so sure of this… but if you’d like, just to be on the safe side, we can always have you take a pregnancy test.”

“Yeah!” you perk up. “Yeah…yeah, um, I think that is a good idea. Just to be positive, y’know.”

Aemond runs a quick trip to the local CVS, and forty-five minutes later, the pregnancy test displays two pink lines, side by side.

You’re pregnant with Aemond’s baby.

He’s completely overjoyed. You’re just trying to mentally plan out how to break the news to your father.

So it is quite hard to hide a swelling belly; this you learn throughout the next few months. You got lucky during the first trimester, having barely shown with some minor symptoms. But now halfway into your second trimester, there are only so many oversized sweaters and graphic t-shirts you can wear until it arouses suspicion.

But Aemond, he is simply so gentle and loving towards you, providing constant naked cuddles and belly strokes. He feels more like a husband than a lover, or even a retired decorated sergeant hired as your bodyguard.

You’re a bit worried about public reaction, and your father’s response to your unexpected pregnancy. Your father loves you so much, but at the end of the day, he is still your father, and you are his little girl. “What are the chances he might blacklist you?” you ask Aemond one afternoon, the two of you in the kitchen cooking lunch. “And send me to a nunnery in Switzerland?”

Aemond laughs. “Very unlikely, baby.”

“He’s going to be so upset…”

“It’ll be fine, quit worrying so much.”

“AEMOND!” you snap, bracing against the kitchen counter. Your temple falls into your hands, and you feel that sudden rush of stupid pregnancy hormones overcoming your thoughts. “It won’t be fine! Don’t you understand?! He’s going to hate me! HATE ME! He’s going to be so disappointed with me. I’m still young, in college, and unwedded. Can you imagine all the shit the public will say? All his political rivals, the media, people in school…”

I’m done. In the public’s eye, I’m ruined.

Aemond pauses his mixing of the salad greens, nuts, vegetables, and cheese, setting the bowl to the side. His head drops, and he lets out a loud sigh. “No one is taking you away from me,” he states, in a low and raspy voice. “Especially your damn father.” You blink, taken back a bit. “I don’t give a shit that your dad is the damn president of this fucking nation. You’re mine. That kid in your belly is mine.”

“Aemond…”

“I’ll marry you if I need to. Is that what your father wants? Would he be happy if his pregnant daughter was married to her baby daddy? Would it make all this unnecessary drama shit better? Cause I’ll fucking do it.”

You glance down at your bare feet, wiggling your painted toes. The mauve-colored nail polish is chipping along your big toenail. If you’d ask, Aemond would definitely repaint them.

“Do you want me to marry you?”

Your tongue wets your bottom lip before you press your mouth in a tight line. “I don’t know if my daddy will let me marry you…” you admit, toying with your fingers.

Aemond then leans against the sink, arms crossed over his chest. “Oh? Is that so?” In his mind, he is freshly eighteen and enlisting in the army, attempting so hard to ignore the snarky comments made toward both his nose and chin and quiet demeanor. All the doubt and torment, the constant undermining and discouragement, and being told he’d never amount to a higher ranking.

His eye drops to your baby bump poking out from behind your shirt, and the delicious way those cute booty shorts hug your hips. You’re everything and more. “I can’t lose you,” he says, shaking his head. “I will not lose you.” He is so incredibly in love with you, driven by obsession, and deepened by the fact that you’re carrying his child.

“I’ll marry you. Next month, next week, even tomorrow if you’d like. Just say yes, and I’ll handle the rest.”

He has the ring in his bedroom, tucked away in the back of his top bedside table drawer — a love knot, glittering with a French pave’ set of diamonds that cover the band halfway in 18k white gold. A symbol of everlasting love, he was told by the jeweler. It’s been in his possession for well over a year now, he just needed to find a reason to use it.

And a baby seems like the perfect reason, doesn’t it?

(creds to the loml my literal everything @chainsawsangel for the banner above <33)

taglist for everything aemond: @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @moonteas @chompchompluke

#aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #dark aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

552 notes · View notes

jukeboxhound · 4 months

Text

my creature has Awoken

#hound barks #moon sign in the house of fluff

9 notes · View notes

coeurify · 1 year

Text

unwind | ellie williams

ellie williams x reader. tlou2 semi-canon universe. jackson based. 1.3k words.

ellie hates being doted over. but she loves you more.

this is a totally self indulgent fluff filled drabble about playing with ellies hair. i just love her and wanna take care of her ok? no warnings beside nondescript mentions of violence.

Ellie hated being taken care of, hated being doted over. This was something you knew all too well, having been stuck to her hip for years now in the small town of Jackson. It was easy to fall into a relationship with Ellie, her energy had drawn you in all that time ago, with bad flirting and sarcastic jokes. It worked on you, embarrassingly so. Since then you put up with every one of her awful puns and loud mouth that often got her in trouble.

You also put up with this disdain she had for being helped. It only got worse over the years, and now as you both entered your twenties, it had become regular. You dealt with the constant shoo-ing off of food you offered her on a supply run. Shrugged off her chipped attitude whenever she got hurt and refused to let you patch her up, always claiming that ‘she had it under control’. She would get embarrassed and flush whenever you did something sweet for her like setting out clothes to wear on patrol, or picking up little supplies you think she may need when you wandered around. She would insist you didn’t have to do it— scratching the back of her neck awkwardly at the thought of you caring for her.

This dynamic fell into the physical side of your relationship too. She was the one who wrapped her arm around you. She was the one who placed kisses to your cheek out in public. It was Ellie who called you baby around friends and introduced you to people. She was the one who rubbed your shoulders after a long day, always patting you away when you tried to reciprocate. So damn stubborn. It was hard enough to place kisses on her cheek without her groaning and covering the blush up with a dirty joke about taking it further. Once you had kissed her in the street after calling her pretty.. and jesus you don't think you had ever seen her get so flustered— her nose screwing up as she swatted you away. You let most of these things slide, not needing her to say that she enjoyed it.

Because there were small, unspoken things that made up for it. They didn’t come often, and Ellie didn’t like to talk about it after.. but if it was working toward a path of the emotionally stubborn girl you loved so much healing.. you would take it. Sometimes it would be things like letting you wipe grime off of her face after a day of work. She would sit quietly as you take a warm washcloth to her face and neck. Other times it was allowing you to play with her shaking fingers in your lap after a particularly bad fight against infected. But your favorite, and one that was becoming much more regular, was her letting you play with her hair.

It started with letting you tie her hair up before patrol— it had been a struggle to get her to agree to. But when she did you both sat quietly and comfortably, twisting little pieces of her hair up to stay out of her face on the windy horse ride. You had watched her eyes flutter close, always tense shoulders relax.. and you knew you had to do it again.

Soon after that she let you wash her hair in the shower, hands shampooing and rinsing her hair. She of course didn’t say anything about it after, quickly changing the topic to something about the moon that night.

Before long, whenever she had a hard day she would come to you silently, clearing her throat and not meeting your eyes as she stiffly laid on the bed or couch and pushed her hair behind her ear. It was a sign you took in very quickly, and fell easily into running your fingers through her auburn locks. It happened maybe once a week, and you never pushed too hard to chat about it. Ellie had enough stress on her.

Today seemed to be one of those days, your girlfriend creeping into the house you shared after the sun had gone down.

You were perched on the couch of the living room, nose tucked into a book as a set of candles lit the room. When she came in and stood at the door, slowly removing her jacket and hanging it on the makeshift coat hanger, you could already tell she was tired.

The way she took a while to pull her converse off, dragging her feet across the hallway, the way you could see her jaw moving to stiffle a yawn. She was exhausted. But Ellie wouldn’t tell you that.

You tread carefully, making sure she has no visible injuries. “Hey Els,” you greet softly— watching her green eyes blink sleepily.

“Hi baby..” she replies, rubbing a dirty hand over her stained cheek. You don’t want to ask if it’s blood or dirt.. let alone who’s or what’s. Biting your lip as she disappears into the kitchen, you listen to the sounds of her dipping a cloth into water.

When Ellie returns a moment later, her face and hands are mostly clean. It highlights the gash on her cheek and her bruised knuckles that she curls into nervous balls. You can see her eyes shift around for a second, feet bouncing ever so slightly. She’s trying to decide what to do next, and you give her all the time she needs.

The auburn haired girl seems to decide finally after a second, walking slowly toward where you sit on the couch. Her hand reaches to pull out the tie holding half of her hair up, and she drops to sit on the carpet under the couch— her back pressed to the edge.

You shuffle immediately, letting her settle between your legs and setting your book down as you reach forward without a word, nails scraping over her scalp. Ellie makes a noise of approval, and you work on gently combing through the knots with your fingers.

It’s silent for a while, and you can feel the nervous tension radiating off of your girlfriend. She isn’t used to this still. It still made her wildly uncomfortable to not do everything on her own. But she needed this right now.

Trying to break the tension, and let her know you wouldn’t bring up the current situation of you two, you start a small conversation. “How was Jesse? You went with him on the trails today, right?” You ask as you brush a few more messy strands behind her ears. The knots are gone now, so you focus more on just running your nails through her hair, no clear action other than comforting her.

Ellie tilts her head back slightly so you can get the small pieces up front, her green eyes closing softly. “Yea, yea he was good. It was a long day,” she mumbled.

You don’t push her to explain, instead finding another little tangle to fix near the nape of her neck.

After another beat of silence, Ellie speaks again. “I found another one of those superhero trading cards, in a house..”

You smile softly, ready to let her ramble about whatever character she had found, like she always does. Usually it's in bed, when sleep won't grace her and she decides you have to be awake too, poking your cheek until you give in to her stories. You like this time much better, hand massaging her scalp lightly. “Yea? Who?”

“Seismicayla,” she begins— the tension in her voice and body wearing away as her mind focuses on the card again, licking over her lips as her mind straightens out the character’s story.

“She- she’s got these shockwave powers, like.. babe she’s so fuckin’ cool..”

You nod along as she continues, fingers still working through her hair. She explains in detail everything about the girl, and you listen intently.

It wasn’t often you got to take care of Ellie, but god did you love it.

#ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you

1K notes · View notes

tigertan · 3 months

Text

neighborly favors and chicago cigarettes.

uhh late to the bear party but eat up anyway .

probably part one of a slow burn fic im writing .. lmk if the public wants more :3 CONTEXT } you recently moved to chicago with the help of your friend syndey, who's boss-slash-friend-slash-business partner had an open apartment across from him. [word count ; 4k] [ mentions of alchohol, cigarettes, cursing. ]

;; all fluff. awkward first meetings. a lot of fuckin' tension and shared cigarettes.

the blackened mac and cheese in the pot bubbles vengefully on the stovetop and you curse it right back with a hissed out, “fuuuck.”

you’d left the stove on for a bit too long when you went to hop into the shower. as a result your mac and cheese became charcoal black and smoking. it’s a wonder how the fire alarm didn’t go off as you grab the handle with a stained rag and toss it into the sink.

the hot pot emits a dying hiss as it hits the water, and red whines from under the couch. “yeah, i know.” you respond to him, standing square in the kitchen and staring at the pot of your former dinner. “that was the last box too, shit.” you groan, finally stepping forward to peer over the sink edge and now you were staring at the guttering pasta and dairy mixture with furrowed brows. “fuck.” you say once more. instead of red’s usual whine in response your phone buzzes on the countertop and you received a text from sydney. she’s down by the bear if you wanted to stop by and maybe grab dinner with her and some of the staff since closing is in 30 minutes? you respond to her with a swift hell yeah. you didn’t dress up much. neat white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. afterall, the bear was a walking distance of four to five minutes. and you throw on a black puffer jacket, for chicago wasn’t christened the windy city for nothing. again, an entire scene change from the warm, near stagnant winds of southern california.

leaving red in the bedroom as it’s way past his bedtime, you grab your phone, wallet, and keys before stuffing your hands in your pockets and stepping out. but as you do there’s a rustling of paper against polyester and a crumpled sheet inside your left pocket. you already know what it is before pulling it out and every fiber in you wants to throw it away. it’s a photo roll— from last winter— of you and your ex-boyfriend, lucas. you sigh, stuffing your bottom lip between your teeth as you stare at the once over the moon you and him. it seemed so long ago, before he started drinking. you clench your jaw. you’d moped around enough in the past three months. this was a fresh start that everyone said you’d deserved, and it would not be ruined by him. nothing would ever be ruined by him again. a spike of anger wedges between your ribs, familiar and fucking ugly. you heave your chest once, exhaling it out along with the paper roll, tossing it to the floor. you jet down the stairs two at a time and step into the windy streets of the windy city, smelling the air. it smelled of petrol and cigarettes, but you didn’t outright hate it. it smelled like l.a. but then again, every big city probably smelled like gas and smoke.

the walk was quicker than you expected, as you strode down the street, you took in the street signs and flashing lights and other lone passerby who shared the sidewalk with you. a peaceful time of stressful pacing, for many a person walking the streets so late at night.

the bear was an elegant place, with a contemporary touch to the furnishings and finishings that you could see from the outside itself. you stepped inside, warm smells of food filling your nostrils and teasing your tastebuds.

it was beautiful, the ambiance had an aura that screamed both family and stress. but such was to be expected from a place that was aiming for a michelin star. you spotted where staff filtered in and out from the front of house and back of house and was beginning to make a line towards it when you were stopped by a very tall man— in his forties most likely— standing behind a lectern at the front who slid his hand between you and your goal. he wore a crisply pressed, all black suit and a buzz cut. “reservation ma’am,” he asked, a cocked brow as he took in your simple attire. you suddenly felt extremely self-conscious of your sweatpants and plain shirt; probably stained as well. “ah— well, i’m friends with sydney,” you reply, hoping it gets you past him. he doesn’t seem to be budged and you get nervous, even a little pissed from the way he’s looking at you. you’re a decent height, but he’s tall. that makes you shift on your feet. “i moved in next to her uh, friend-slash-buisness partner-slash-executive chef? does that— does that ring any bells?” you add on, shrugging. the big puffer you have on probably is not helping your case. “uh-huh.” he nods over another waitstaff, whispers in their ear and sends them off. you two then stand there for a bit, his blue eyes seeming staring directly into you and you shuffle a bit on your feet. you introduce yourself, guessing that maybe reducing the barrier of strangers would ease the tension of this encounter. telling him your name, you hold your hand out. he looks at it then back up to your face before taking it with a grip like iron. “richard. richie. nice to meet yo’.” “nice to meet you too, richie.” you nod shake his hand. at that moment the wait staff is back and whispers again in richie’s ear. he nods and they go back onto the floor and richie nods towards the back. “guess you’re free to go sweetheart.” he gives you a wink as you pass and you give him a scrunched up side eye. what a weirdo. the kitchen is fast. fast isn’t even the best way to describe it. just standing in the doorway had your palms itching to jump in and help, although you wouldn’t be much help, being a preschool teacher. a waiter was coming at you in long strides, an expensive dish in their hands and you immediately stepped to the side, not wanting to be the cause for someone missing their meal. you spot sydney, at the front of the line and constantly spewing out order after order after order, each one responding with a, “yes chef!” from the cooks in the kitchen.

suddenly another chef bursts into the kitchen from the front and his pale brown hair is flying at the ends, although it looks like he’d tried to slick it back it obviously failed; his eyes are a striking blue and widened, the irises eating away the white sclera. but even though he seemed a tad shorter than you, he was pretty fuckin’ cute. that was, until, he opened his mouth and his voice climbed to a screaming spiel at sydney and anyone who was around, really. rounding the large table of food and preparation in the middle of the kitchen, he grabbed two trays and shoved them at the waitstaff. while you didn’t understand most of it, kitchen lingo was incredibly confusing— why was everyone chef? how do you know who was talking to who?— you could tell that he was practically bursting in anger, the bridge of his nose bunched up with the t-zone of his face.

it was a sight really. a perhaps five seven man in a pressed white chef outfit screaming like all hell was breaking loose. maybe a little scary, but you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. from whatever dramas you’ve seen on chef life and the such— take marco pierre white, for example— head chefs were incredibly demanding, seemingly downright arrogant.

you didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire, being a prime target for your un-chef-liness in the midst of a busybodied kitchen, so you ducked into what looked like an office, one wall plastered with a ceiling-to-floor bookshelf and a framed picture of a baseball stadium. hopefully you were safe in here. you sighed.

but it turns out you weren’t, because that same short angry chef came barreling into the office area and stopped short when he spotted you, the scream dying on his tongue. there was the thick and familiar air of awkward tension and you fiddled with the material in your pockets, swallowing. “hello.” you break in and he blinks. his eyes are huge, you realize. “are you— are you going to yell at me too?” “uh. i’m– i’m sorry, wh—” he replies, brows furrowing as he looks you up and down. “CARMY!” sydney followed in closely after the chef, cutting him off. she looked at you, doing a short double take before looking back at— carmy? “can you just— can you calm down? you’re scaring everyone again.” she sighed, obvious exasperation on her face. it flicked a switch in carmy and he turned to her, all the anger filling his features in an instant. “no syd, the fucking fish is cold again. we have a vip up there and the fish is cold and—” he was like a candle wick, you realized. exploding now and then in violent, flashing flames, only to get doused out with a simple thing or the other.

this time it was sydney circling her heart with a closed fist. and he stuttered, swallowing harshly before doing the getsure back to her. “i’m sorry.” she says, “i was caught up again and it all got fucked. i’ll fix it.” unsure of what to do, you debated doing it too. but maybe that would be weird. so you instead shoved your hands deeper in your pocket and thinned your lips. “uh. sorry,” you shot a look to carmy. “should i go?” you asked sydney. “i thought you guys were uh. done so i like— came over here.”

sydney chuckled lightly, though it sounded more tired than anything. “no, no you’re fine. it’s just the dinner rush. it’s dying out, the kitchen closes in like— fifteen minutes. i didn’t realize you’d get here so quickly.” “well, it’s like a five minute walk, so.” you explain. “i would’ve hung out with red,” you joke. sydney grins. “yeah, he would’ve liked that a lot more.” “okay, who is this?” carmy interjects, hands splayed in front of him as if he tried to physically stop the conversation between you and sydney. your friend nodded as if to say oh yeah, and gestured to you, telling carmy your name. “she’s the one who moved across from you. that’s why i asked you for that apartment information.”

he just nods, then hands you another look before turning on his heel back into the kitchen.

sydney watches him walk away and then turns to you. she shrugs in apology and you dismiss it with a wave. “i’m. so sorry. i genuinely thought you’d take longer. just… hang out in here, i guess.” you laugh and take a seat— gingerly— in the office chair. “yeah, i’ll just hang out in here.” sydney nods then jets back to the chaos that is the kitchen after flashing you another one of her signature smiles. thank goodness you’d downloaded that mind-numbing mobile app on the flight here.

-- you could hear the unwinding of the kitchen from the office. it was evident; the defeated hiss of fired pans falling into a sink, stoves clicking off, and the urgent yells of the staff had reduced to inaudible chatter. carmy walks back into the office, and he seemingly forgot you were there, from the way he stopped in his tracks and blinked at you. he was no longer in a chef uniform, eight sets of buttons across his chest were swapped out for a plain white t-shirt and black jeans that were too tight around his calves. the shirt also was fitted around his chest despite the bagginess it held around the rest of his frame. did he have a thing for too-tight clothes? you looked up, and immediately stood from the chair, apology written across your face. “ah. sorry. syd said i could wait in here after… all that.” “yeah, no no, it’s… it’s fine. i just need, uh,” he pointed to the jacket hanging on the seat of the chair. the one you’d been half sitting-slash-leaning on, and had noted mentally that it was a pretty ugly shade of brown. “oh. yeah.” you fumble the pickup, fumble the fucking delivery, but the jacket ends back in carmy’s hands and he slides it on. only then you realize he had tattoos. all over his arms.

you’d always wanted a tattoo, maybe one of red. you’d seen other dog obsessed people on tiktok get tattoos of their dog’s paws and noses. carmy’s ink peered out from his jacket, littering his left hand in numbers and other stray marks. you sort of stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do until he speaks, “are you um— you’re sydney’s friend?” he asks, blinking voraciously. you nod. “yeah. that’s me.” theres a bit of a chuckle to it, in the hopes of the labored tension between you two will dissipate.

unfortunately it doesn’t.

you’d heard many things about this guy, everything but his name, surprisingly. sydney had raved about him being named the ‘best chef’ in the ‘best restaurant’ in america. in socal, with the budget you had, the best you’d get was souplantation. it’s a shame they shut down.

maybe he should win an award for most awkward man ever, you thought with a bitter edge, swallowing hard. “are you going to the bar too?” you ask. he seems almost surprised you decided to continue to talk to him and he looks behind him then back to you in rapid succession. “oh. yeah. just for, for a few.” he replied. you nod back, and jump at this newfound opportunity. “how far is it?” “huh? oh, like, a ten minute drive.” carmy responds, taking out a rung of car keys from his left pocket. perfect. you think. “do you think—” you begin, on the path to ask him for a ride, maybe you’d break the awkward silence between you two and you’d be friends. but it never happened on account of sydney walking back into the office, changed into her large trench coat and grins at you as she calls your name. “you ready? we’ll take the subway,” she nods to the door, and waits as if you were to follow. you sigh internally. oh well. maybe he’d drink enough and they’d loosen up and you could ask him if his name was really carmy and why the hell he was so mad earlier. you side step carmy with a muttered, “excuse me”, and follow sydney out the back and around the corner and to the subway. —

the bar is quaint, some local pub with local teams and references plastered from wooden mahogany wall to wooden mahogany wall. it smells strongly of beer and grease, so thickly it lays gently on your tongue and makes you immensely hungry.

sydney walks to a table in the far right corner. a tall man and very short woman sit side by side, joking as the woman grins widely. a pudgy guy with a braid sits beside— great. richie is here too, you realize with sullen realization and swallow the sour bile in your throat. he just radiated a terribly immature aura. the other side of the table were four seats, the two on the right side filled by another tall man in a beanie and beside him sat carmy. you wonder in passing how he got here so fast. “sydney! you’re late,” richie booms, beer glass in his hand. the image is crude and you cringe by the slightest. sydney scoffs playfully, rolling her eyes. “shut the fuck up richie,” she retorts. you sit on the side next to carmy and sydney takes your right. he raises his hands in mock surrender, and passes two untouched beer glasses to you and sydney, you take it slowly. you hadn’t drank since— well, since you realized why lucas acted the way he did. so you held the beer glass between you hands on the table and watched the witty banter of the staff members unfold, so natural and so familial it felt warm and fuzzy— for lack of a better, less cheesy term— in the deepest parts of your heart.

but it was broken, momentarily, by carmy standing up in a bit of an abrupt manner and muttering something along the lines of “smoke break,” and you watch him leave with some sadness. he hadn’t talked much, during the whole show, whenever he did it was a sideish chuckle or a shut the fuck up to richie. a lot of people were saying that, you realized. the break let everyone take a hearty swig from their glasses, and the silence brought the attention to you. tina— the short woman with an underlying spanish accent— asked you where you were from. “california,” you replied. “it fucking sucks out here,” you joke, and feel a sense of social accomplishment when the staff laughed alongside you. it grants you that moment of courage for you to take a sip of ‘liquid courage’. you hadn’t drank in so long. you were never a heavyweight, but the long gap between your last taste of spirit let the alcohol in the drink go immediately to your head and opened the metaphorical floodgates of your surprisingly dirty mouth and quick whips that were always the highlight of your college party experience.

“so why’d you move out here, then, sweetheart?” [“you can’t just call people sweetheart, richie,” sydney scolded almost subconsciously, but was brushed off by richie with a wave.] you held the beer glass in both your hands, a brow lifting with the side of your mouth in a half-disgusted-half-scorned look. “um. california’s too fucking expensive?” you offer in a ploy to change the subject but he shakes his head as he follows through with his question, staring at you. “don’t believe that.” he retorted almost immediately in between a swig of beer. you glared at him. “okay, fucko. i needed a new job.” “and what are you?” “... a preschool teacher.” “not with that mouth!” ebra interjected with gibelike laughter, the other members of the beef chiming in. you had to admit, that was true. you’d always had a bit of a sailors tongue, something your fellow teachers berated you on during your days as a TA.

“okay, okay, yeah, i have a filthy fucking mouth, but i’m still a preschool teacher.” you shrug, taking a sip with a snarky smile. “okay, but preschool teacher pay is worse in illinois.” richie pressed you. he knew there was something, you knew he wanted it out of you, like the nosy fuckin’ bitch he was. “okay, but—” “come on, what is it really?” he interrupted you with a plaguey tone of voice that made your stomach curdle and your mouth twist in an annoyed grimace. “you fuck the wrong principal? buy the wrong drugs? bad fuckin’ boyfriend?” when your grip on the glass tightens, the beer sloshing the sides at the miniscule impact, richie knows he’s won. and like the loud mouth he is, he makes it known. “oh HO, so that’s your fucking pandora’s box. come on, what kind of asshole was he? the tight assed asshole? the—”

he doesn’t get a chance to finish because you slam your beer glass down onto the honey-washed wooden table and it spills, getting your hand and the sleeve of your puffer damp. you glare daggers into richie, the familiar javelin of rage fitting in your chest almost familiarly. “do you fucking mind? ever hear of privacy, you washed up gossip whore?” you damn near snarl, shoving the chair back as you stand and cock your head to one side. the bar had quieted; curious, nosy bystanders had taken an interest in the sudden spike of aggression and noise that radiated from you. sydney gingerly tried to lay a hand on your arm, but you pulled away from her as the pressure fell on your bicep. you didn’t mean to snap at her, but as of that moment, you’d snap at anyone. you felt cornered, like a wild animal being poked through the bars of a cage by jeering children. the teeth in your jaw ground together, and you pushed the chair back further with your legs to untangle yourself from the situation, taking long, deliberate strides to the back door, the one carmy had gone through. shoving through the heavy metal door, it didn’t take you long to find carmy. he stood a few paces away from the door, under a flickering street lamp that flirted with various winged insects. it splayed over him, illuminating the chef in harsh yet complementary light.

he looks almost surprised you’re there, a cig pursed in his lips, the case in one hand with the lighter in the other. “uh. hey,” he nods to you. was it routine for these awkward silences to find a home between you two? you nod back, the flush in your cheeks hopefully falling out. then you nod to the cigarette case in his hands. “enough to share?”

–

you two stand; around a foot or two apart, cigarettes in your mouths. one looked up and the other looked down. the sky was shittily pretty, you noted. city pollution obstructed the sight of any stars, but the neon glows of various billboards and street signs rose into the air and tinged the edges of the purple-black canvas.

you exhaled heavily, the smoke burning your nostrils on the way out. it’d been, what— two, three months?— since you’d “quit” smoking. it didn’t fit with the whole preschool teacher-esque you needed. but tonight was just getting worse and worse and you wanted to go bash your head against the brick alleyway until god herself would come down and take you away. “richie?” he speaks, and it startles you. the cig nearly falls from your mouth, but you take it away between your index and middle finger. you look back at him, blinking then nodding slowly. he nods back in acknowledgement. “what uh– what he’d do now?” “other than be a big fucking nosy bitch, nothing, really.” you reply, taking a long drag on the cigarette, the spike in your ribs chipping away with each wash of nicotine.

carmy makes an o with his mouth and nods again. he looked like a bird, you realized. but not in a bad way, or anything. like a flighty falcon, the kind you saw on those nature rehabilitation shows on animal planet. you just needed to hold them the right way, maybe say the right cooing words. maybe find something in common if you did that right. you give a slight look to him from the side. the cigarette was cushioned in his lips, and while they weren't very large, from here alone you could tell they were plush pink and soft, from curve it held around the butt of the cig.

“why’d you come out then?” he asks another question, snapping you out of your creepy lip-admiration. the fact that he was asking you more questions made you think this was either progression or unsettling, but it was hard to decide. you shrug in response, however. “i was hungry, actually. burned my mac and cheese.” there was another few moments of silence, filled only with the city life of chicago and your noisy exhale, blue gray smoke tendrils curling in the air.

“i could make you somethin’.” he offers, his voice nonchalant and passive, even though his big fuckin’ eyes stared at you like he was some lost puppy.

it was kind of endearing, actually. no one had ever cooked for you. why'd it make your chest tighten pleasingly?

you laugh. “sure. one day, when you can, neighborly favor of sorts if you’re into that.” you jest, unaware he was being serious. you take another lung filling puff of the cigarette, nicotine thick in your senses. “chicago cigarettes are strong,” you remark.

he nods. “like em’ better than the new york ones.”

you raise your brows in acknowledgement. he swallows some air, not for the cigarette, you realize as he begins to speak.

“i was, uh, being serious, by the way. i fucking hate mac and cheese.”

you grin, looking over at him, the dim glow of the cigarette hanging from your lip. “me too.”

...

for more / updates go check out my ao3 !

171 notes · View notes

theother-victoria · 4 months

Text

graduation trip

PREVIOUSLY | NEXT

SYNOPSIS: the stars in space must grow weary of their long orbits after a while. they too deserve to rest. a shooting star has regained its tail, ready to soar across the galaxy once more.

TAGS: fluff, minor spoilers of Kaveh’s backstory, the sillies getting a well-deserved break, 4.6k wc

NOTES: I was watching honkai impact’s “graduation trip” animation and sobbing the whole time as I wrote this their cover of canon in d just hits differently

Sitting upon the outskirts of Sumeru City is a small rented house where the breeze is warm and the sunlight is golden. A small garden grows off to the side and receives plenty of love, apparent from the abundance of vegetables and the fragrant blossoms. Traces of Dendro elemental energy used to help the plants grow are visible with elemental sight. Small trinkets are scattered here and there, bearing traces of their owners' personalities. A wind chime hanging off the roof awning that is styled after the night sky. Comets and crescent moons are strung together, tinkling pleasantly in the mid-afternoon breeze. A collection of Aranara statues sit by the front porch, clearly carved from different people from the varying differences in skill. The smell of freshly-brewed coffee and Padisarah Pudding is always wafting out the open windows and the neighbors are used to the house’s frequent yet lighthearted arguing.

If one were to peer through the large living room window with the curtains pulled open, they would see an impressive collection of books in the living room. The term “home library” did the collection a disservice; to call it an actual library would be more fitting. Two diplomas are hung side by side above the bookshelves. Cat toys are scattered across the floor and atop furniture and if they’re lucky, they can see the household’s gray cat napping in a sunbeam.

If they were to peer through the window now, they would also see two recent Akademiya graduates in the kitchen. One was adding ice cubes to their drink, while the other sat at the kitchen table reading a book.

“(Name), have you ever thought about taking a graduation trip?”

You look up mid-sip from your iced peach juice. Alhaitham seems calm and composed but having known him for four years and counting, you spot the subtle signs of his nervousness. You hear his foot lightly tapping against the floor and the way his fingers drum against his book cover. He avoids making eye contact and is oddly fixated on the fruit bowl.

You look back out the window and think for a bit. You can’t say you’ve ever considered it these past four years. Money was tight as an Akademiya student and you were too preoccupied with your studies among… other things.

But now that you’ve graduated in relatively decent academic standing with a fair amount of money earned, you suppose you could give the notion some thought.

Alhaitham seems to take your silence as hesitation and he begins to (very subtly) panic.

“I still have enough Mora, so don’t worry about paying for anything.”

“Haitham-”

“And the location is completely up to you. I’m fine with whatever nation you choose.”

“I-”

“Of course, you can say no if you don’t want to. It’s perfectly understandable. I’m also content with spending our summer together at-”

“Haitham.”

The finality in your voice makes him stop rambling. You give him a small smile of reassurance and interlock your fingers with his across the table. It seems to calm him down and you can see the tension in his shoulders dissipate.

“Of course I want to go. I just haven’t had the time or energy to consider it these past four years.”

“Well, where to then?”

“You’re the one paying for the trip. It’s only fair that I let you decide.”

“Good point,” he admits. His eyes narrow in your direction and you squirm uncomfortably under his pointed gaze. You can hear him mumbling to himself as he goes through his list of ideas.

(Is this what Tighnari’s plant samples felt like underneath the magnifying glass and his scrutinizing eye?)

“Liyue?... No, you went there already. Inazuma sounds good, but their political state has been rocky lately… Mondstadt, then? No, there’s a national holiday coming up so it’s going to be busy and overcrowded…”

He pauses.

“How does Fontaine sound?”

“Fontaine?” you repeat.

“It’s nearby, so travel fees won’t be outrageous, and neither of us have been there before. The political state is stable and there’s no national holidays or anything similar coming up, meaning it won’t be as crowded as say, Mondstadt,” he reasons. “But if you’re not interested, then that’s fine-”

“Haitham, do you remember what I said earlier? I’d love to go anywhere with you. A trip to Fontaine sounds lovely.”

That seems to ease the last of his worries. His shoulders relax and he leans back into his chair. There’s a faint grin that only you have the privilege of seeing as he pulls out his notebook and begins writing down plans.

“I’ll start making reservations now. It shouldn’t take them more than a few days. When do you want to leave?”

“As soon as possible.”

“How does the end of this week sound then?”

It’s a perfect day for traveling. The sky is clear and the air is warm but not overbearingly so. The sea should be calm as well. Thamina has been handed to a friend for pet sitting. Your bags are stacked on the front porch and you’re fiddling with the keys when Alhaitham taps you on the shoulder.

“Before we go, I have a present for you.”

You raise your eyebrows at that. Alhaitham wasn’t much of a gift giver (at least overtly).

He presents a simply-wrapped box. Peeling off the paper, you open the box to see a Kamera sitting inside it, and a rather fancy model at that.

“Everyone contributed to this,” he explains as you fiddle with the expensive gadget, examining it from all angles like a curious child. “I know you’ve been eyeing the empty position of reporter at the newspaper company in town and I thought a Kamera would be a practical gift, so I began saving up for one.”

He sighs. “Word got out that I was looking for a Kamera. Everyone put two and two together and they realized it was going to be for you and they began sending me money. Even Lisa pitched in.”

“Lisa?” you repeat. “She’s all the way in Mondstadt right now!”

He lightly chuckles. “Imagine my surprise when I opened the mailbox to find a hefty pouch of Mora one day with a letter signed by her in there. She still hasn’t dropped the habit of calling you ‘cutie’, by the way.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less than that from her.”

“But with everyone’s funds combined, I was able to get a nicer model than the one I was originally going to get. Give it a go and tell me what you think of it.”

You press the shutter. It goes off with a loud click, startling you. A few moments later, it spits out a strip of film from the opening beneath the lens. You absentmindedly put it aside in a shaded spot for now.

“It’s quite nice. And your intuition proved to be right once more. But if you got me something this expensive, surely there has to be another reason than it being a practical gift for my future job?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? I think that’s the fastest you’ve seen through me to date.”

“You’re not exactly being subtle here.”

He sighs at your deadpan expression. “It’s nothing shameful or secretive. I just want you to be the one to document the details of our trip.”

“Entrusting such an important task to me?”

“There’s no one better suited for the job.”

Right as you’re about to leave, you remember the photo you had accidentally taken earlier. Out of curiosity, you retrieve it to see what the Kamera had captured.

The film had developed nicely, albeit slightly blurry. Probably because you had moved out of shock when the shutter went off. It turns out you’d accidentally taken a photo of Alhaitham, but it isn’t half-bad. He’s relaxed in the photo and his eyes lack the usual piercing and cold look most people see him with.

It’s a nice shot. Perhaps you’ll keep it for yourself.

“Welcome to the Clementine Line aquabus! This boat tour will take you to the magnificent court of Fontaine, the most important city in our nation!”

The sweet creature before you, who you quickly learned was a Melusine and was named Aeval, introduces herself and begins pointing out the sights around you- much like how a tour guide would. The aquabus is quite crowded with visitors but you sit shoulder-to-shoulder comfortably against Alhaitham.

Many students and children are here on summer vacation with their families and you feel a pang of jealousy run through you, which quickly morphs to tension when you notice some familiar faces from these past four years. Alhaitham immediately picks up the sudden change in your mood, as he always has. Funny how people think of him as emotionally dense when he’s one of the most emotionally intelligent people you’ve ever met.

“Who are they?” he whispers into your ear, low enough so that only you can hear it.

“No one of any importance,” you whisper back. “Just as long as they don’t ruin our trip.”

After some time, their gaze begins to wander when they land on you. You hear the whispers quietly explode around you and the eyes that burn into your body. The sweet Melusine tour guide is as perceptive as she is sweet, for she makes eye contact with you, giving you something else to focus on other than them.

From over your shoulder, Alhaitham silences them with a sharp glare.

(“Did something happen?” you ask him when you no longer feel their gazes boring into you. You cast a glance at them out of the corner of your eye and notice how they no longer look in your direction.

“... Let me rephrase that. Did you do something?”

He hums. “I’m unaware of what you might be implying.”

“Stop feigning ignorance,” you hiss.

“I am doing no such thing.”

There’s no such thing as winning with him around.)

The aquabus reaches its destination, and all your troubles are forgotten as you step off. The air is warm and salty from the sea and the buildings are so tall it makes your neck hurt. Mechanical beings walk the street and nobody pays them any mind except you. (You know your Kshahrewar colleagues would love to get their hands on one.)

“Woah! Are you seeing all of this, Haitham? It’s so different from Sumeru and Liyue!”

Instantly, Alhaitham knew he made the right decision bringing you here and part of a burden is lifted off his shoulders.

There are many things to do and see in Fontaine. You start off by exploring the city. One of the first things you do is visit a Kamera shop to get a better understanding of how your shiny new gift worked. You ended up leaving with some newfound knowledge, some gadgets, and a significantly lighter wallet.

Fontaine has plenty of boulangeries and patisseries, each one better than the last. Your days aren’t complete without sampling the goods of several stores and you quickly see why Fontaine’s desserts are world-renowned.

“They’re so buttery and creamy,” you remark the first time you try one. “I can’t help but feel full after just a few bites…”

Fontaine is renowned for its stunning underwater landscapes that photos can’t do justice to. It had been on your bucket list of things to see the moment you began planning for this trip, but what nobody told you was that only Vision holders could breathe underwater. Regular people couldn’t do that unless they learned the ins and outs of using a diving suit, something both costly and time-consuming- two things you lacked.

That’s how you found yourself pouting at the water’s edge, disappointment etched into the lines of your face.

“Let’s just go back now. There’s still other things we can do.”

Alhaitham looks at you with mild surprise. “I thought this was one of the things you wanted to do most in Fontaine?”

“It was and still is, but I don’t have a Vision, so…”

He looks back at the water, then at you beginning to get up, and finally at the reluctance in your eyes.

“Stay here,” he suddenly says. “I’ll go and make it worth your while.”

“What-”

“It won’t be long. Don’t go running off now.”

And without any hesitation, he dives straight into the waters, leaving you reeling as you watch his figure slowly disappear as he descends.

With nothing else to do, you absentmindedly sketch the surroundings until some time passes and you hear a small splash. You watch as Alhaitham emerges from the waters, water plastered to his forehead like your cat Thamina’s fur after a bath, but more importantly, you notice what he’s carrying. You’ve seen sketches of them in some of the books you’ve read in Fontaine so far- Romaritime Flowers, Lumitoiles, Beryl Conches… he must’ve dove into some deep waters to get some of these local specialties.

“For you,” he says.

“Really?”

He nods. “I brought you part of the sea that you wanted to explore so much.”

You let the weight of his actions sink in.

“You… did all of that? Just for me?”

“I’d swim to the bottom of Fontaine’s deepest trenches as many times as you want.”

“Willingly, at that?”

“Gladly, at that.”

Later that night, you stay up into the early morning preserving what he brought you. Your arms are tired from carrying heavy books for pressing the flowers, and the room reeks of alcohol and seafood so much that you have to open the windows while you’re drying out the Lumitoiles lest you pass out from the smell. It reminds you of the late-nighters you’d pull back in your Akademiya days, except it's for something you enjoy this time.

You finish when the sun’s early morning rays begin to peek beyond the horizon. You’ve finally passed out in bed, barely awake, but still sleepily talking to yourself with Alhaitham lying across from you.

“Still stinks,” you mumble as your eyelids begin to close.

Alhaitham’s condition is as equally bad as yours, sleep-deprived and exhausted. He chuckles at your remark.

“Would you still want to do this again?”

“Maybe in a better-ventilated area,” you grumble.

He loudly yawns.

“Just say the word and… I’ll bring you anything you desire…”

You can’t keep your eyes open for much longer. When you’re in this state, your mind doesn’t have a filter and you’re less inhibited. Alhaitham has a feeling of what you’ll say next. Something outlandish and unattainable.

“Even the moon and stars?”

“Only the most luminous of shooting stars for you,” he replies without hesitation.

Why a shooting star, of all celestial bodies…you groggily wonder.

“What if it burns out and loses its tail? It’s just an ordinary rock then.”

“It’s still the same star, is it not? And shooting stars can return and regain their tail.”

Throughout all of it, you take photos. So many photos. You brought along an album for the trip and it contains photos of just about everything under the sun. The mountains in the background on your way to Fontaine. Photos of the desserts and everything you ate every day. The grandeur of the opera house when you were there to watch a play. Your pressed flowers are next to the photos of the sea. Your Lumitoiles and Beryl Conches sit in a bag, waiting to be taken home.

Beneath each photo, Alhaitham has written little notes. Most of them are about the foods you liked and disliked for his reference.

(Name) didn’t like the Fontaine Aspic and neither did I. Who thought this was a good idea…? I’d be hard-pressed to find someone who enjoyed it.

The Duck Confit was nice, but (Name) could only manage a few bites before they complained it was too oily. That seems to be a recurring theme…

(Name) has liked all the desserts we’ve tried so far. How hard would it be to recreate them at home?

But there’s other notes too.

A pressed Rainbow Rose sits between a photo of you both in front of the Fountain of Lucine where plenty of them were blooming and a photo of the Opera Epiclese in the evening. Strange, you don’t remember pressing this flower and placing it in this specific spot.

All that was written beneath it was “for (Name)”.

A few days into your trip and you’re examining a hat display while Alhaitham checks out a book display across the street when you hear a familiar voice drifting above the crowd.

“... The audacity of that client! Can you believe he backed out of the deal last minute? At least he paid me upfront…”

Your head jolts up. You look back at Alhaitham, who has done the same thing, and look toward the source of the sound in sync.

Surely it can’t be…?

A few moments later and your suspicions are confirmed. Kaveh emerges from the crowd and… a woman who looks startlingly similar standing next to him?

“Huh? Is that… his mom?”

“He did tell me one night that his mom remarried and moved to Fontaine sometime after he enrolled in the Akademiya,” notes Alhaitham, who has moved to stand next to you. Kaveh turns and makes eye contact with you. It takes him a few seconds to process the sight before he gasps loudly, audible even amongst the crowd, and then storms over to you.

“You!” he exclaims while jabbing an accusing finger at Alhaitham’s chest. “What are you doing here? Nice to see you again, (Name).”

“Graduation trip,” explains Alhaitham. “We-”

He’s interrupted by Kaveh’s mom rushing over.

“You must be Alhaitham! And you must be (Name)! I’ve heard so much about you from Kaveh! Are you both busy right now, by any chance?”

“Not… particularly?”

And that’s how you find yourself out in the countryside spending the evening with Kaveh and his family. Faranak had shooed you out of the house and encouraged you to reconnect with each other until she called you back for dinner. In that time, you had found that Kaveh had made quite the name for himself within the architecture world (no surprise there) and was working on a commission for a very wealthy man before he suddenly backed out of the deal. At least he still got a hefty upfront deposit to keep. In the meantime as he decided which commission to take out of the many that were flooding in, he was reconnecting with his direct and extended family, who he hadn’t seen in years.

“And how about you two?” he asks. “What are you both up to now?”

“Haitham is working at the library as of now, but I’ve been hearing rumors of how he might get promoted to the position of Scribe soon.”

“You probably don’t even want the position anyway,” scoffs Kaveh. “Knowing you and all.”

“Actually, I do.”

You both turn to look at him.

“Better pay, better schedule, more flexibility, and a decreased workload, to name a few,” he lists.

“... Wouldn’t being a librarian entail less work than the Scribe? And why’d you mention pay? I know how much you want a cushy life, but you seem pretty comfortable now?” Kaveh asks.

“It’s decent, but I know we could have more.”

“We?” repeats Kaveh. He slowly connects the dots as he looks at you and Alhaitham. “Wait, don’t tell me you two are-”

“We’re living together. That’s it.”

Kaveh blinks. He looks a little… disappointed?

“Oh… that’s all? No-”

Alhaitham cuts him off with a glare that could kill.

“Not. Another. Word,” he hisses. Then, in a whisper that only Kaveh can hear:

“Not yet, at least.”

You look at the two of them, unaware. Alhaitham clears his throat and sends one last glare at Kaveh before continuing.

“As I was saying, (Name) and I are renting a house together. However, now is a good time to become a homeowner. Mortgage rates are low, housing stock is high. It’ll be doable for me with some time and savings.”

“Geez, stop rubbing your success in our faces,” grumbles Kaveh. “You’ve already got a promotion lined up and you’ll potentially be the first homeowner in our circle. Give me a break…”

While the two grumble and bicker the same way they did back in their Akademiya days, you hang behind, fiddling with a wildflower you had picked earlier.

While I’m glad he’s getting such a head start in life… where does that leave me then?

On the walk back, neither of you notice how Alhaitham lingers behind. Neither of you notice how Alhaitham is also doing the math for how much he has to save up each month to get a house built.

Specifically, one that’s big enough for at least two people.

The last day of your trip has arrived. You’re outside the aquabus station waiting for it to return and take you back to Romaritime Harbor when you notice you still have some film left.

“Here, Haitham, let’s pose for a photo. Might as well use up this remaining film.”

There’s also one last thing you’ve been meaning to do. His comments back at Faranak’s house made you feel dejected, but you tell yourself that you only live once. Might as well so you have no regrets.

Leaving the aquabus station temporarily, you set up your Kamera in front of the large rotating fountain in front. You fiddle with the tripod’s height until you made sure that you were both in frame.

With everything all ready, you hurry back to where Alhaitham is standing. His free arm lazily drapes over your shoulder, his hand resting just above your heart.

Your heart pounds in anticipation. You wonder if he can feel it.

The light flashes red. One.

You quickly glance at him. He doesn’t suspect a thing. His shirt collar is right within grabbing range too.

Two.

It’s now or never.

Three.

You press your lips to his cheek the moment the shutter goes off with a loud click. He jolts upon contact and you instinctively tighten your grip on him. You can feel the smoothness of his cheek and the faint scent of his shaving cream from this morning. You feel the rush of heat to his face and it makes you smile a bit.

Despite his intimidating stature, he still acts like a little boy experiencing romantic love for the first time.

(Probably because it is.)

The Kamera spits out a piece of film and you pray that the photo turned out alright. Your eyes are squeezed shut while his are blown wide in an uncharacteristic display of shock. It’s the perfect photo for a long-anticipated first kiss.

Strangely, Alhaitham doesn’t say a word the entire time and you think you’ve pissed him off, until you’re on the boat back to Sumeru.

“That wasn’t fair of you.”

“... What?”

You shift a bit and see he’s scowling, but in a childish way.

“I wanted to be the first to confess.”

It’s quite the sight. The serious and stoic Alhaitham, pouting like a child. Had you not used up the last of the film for your first kiss, you would have immediately snapped a photo.

You think a bit about what to say and quickly realize something.

“... You do realize I never confessed back there, right?”

“You kissed me,” he plainly states. “That counts as a confession in itself.”

You huff and roll your eyes. “But I never said…”

“Said what?”

“You know… those three words?”

You gesture at the space before you, hoping he gets your message.

“I’m unaware of what you’re trying to imply.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Is this man for real?

Then you notice the teasing glint in his green eyes and it makes you want to tear your hair out.

“You…! Fine. Ok. Shut up. Insufferable asshole. Why did I fall in love with you? You know exactly what I’m referring to. Since you’re all pouty about it, why don’t you say it then?”

He doesn’t take your jab at him seriously, instead choosing to grasp both your hands in his.

“Najmati-”

The endearment makes your heart leap into your throat. My star. He had always called you (Name) or some other nickname, but now…

You reach to cover your burning face but Alhaitham tightens his grip on your wrists.

“Don’t look away now. Are those two stars that hold boundless love and outshine the sun and moon, or are they your eyes?”

Since when was he so good with his words? Stupid Alhaitham and his stupidly smart self and his Haravatat degree making you feel things you’ve never felt before.

“Boundless love for one person only. Care to guess who?”

He feigns cluelessness. “Would I happen to be that lucky recipient?”

The corners of your eyes crinkle from a smile that actually meets them. The small laugh that comes out of you reminds him of the night sky wind chime hanging off the awning that he got because it reminded him of you.

“This confession is long overdue. You really do remind me of a shooting star; something that makes everyone stop and stare in awe. I, just like everyone else, was just as taken with you. Always radiant, always glowing, always full of energy and moving onto what lay ahead. Rather than a star, you must’ve been the sun with all the energy you had and the life you gave to everything you touched.”

“But, Haitham, I burnt myself out. Have you read what Rtawahist scholars predict will happen when the sun inevitably runs out of fuel and collapses in on itself?”

“Everything will be destroyed. And everything was destroyed two years ago. But you’re still here, aren’t you? And so am I.”

“The only one to have survived the blast and fallout with me,” you whisper, interlocking your fingers with his. Your eyes slowly trail up to his gaze, where you see something sweet swirling around in his eyes. “And you’re still here two years later when everything has finally settled down.”

“There’s no such thing as perfection in this world,” he continues. “So I sometimes think that you came here from another world because you are the closest thing to perfection I’ve ever touched.”

“But, Haitham, I have my very obvious flaws. You’ve seen them on full display and you’ve bluntly pointed them out to me several times.”

“It is because you are multifaceted and flawed that makes you more than just a star, (Name). And stars aren’t perfect or flawless either. They’re made of rock, dust, ice, and without its hallmark tail, it looks rather plain. But, my dear sun, your strengths and shortcomings make you radiant even if you’ve lost the tail that people chased after you to see.”

“If I continued to run, would you still chase me?”

“Do you still have a reason to run?

You pause and think. Your time in Fontaine made you feel warm inside. It gave you a glimpse of what life could be like now. Now that you’ve experienced it you don’t ever want to go back to what it was like before, in your familiar yet cold childhood home, its walls devoid of love and color.

That house is not home anymore. It’s now the rented home you share with Alhaitham, where the windows don’t fully close sometimes and the floorboards creak obnoxiously.

And you decide that you no longer have a reason to continue running across the night sky for others to see.

“My shooting star, I’ve loved you ever since our Akademiya days. Will you be mine, as I am already yours?”

#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x gender neutral reader #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #victoria.writes

164 notes · View notes

bless-my-demons · 9 months

Text

Redamancy: Chapter Thirteen

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: None except for a cuss word and some tooth-rotting fluff

Notes: Oops, I lied - New Moon timeline has been pushed to the right a bit, I got carried away with this chapter lol this one got me cheesin’ hard. I can’t even wait to post this until my regular time, so enjoy!! (Hopefully I didn’t fuck up the tags - thank you to everyone that’s used the google form!)

Word Count: 2701

Series Masterlist

• March 21st, 2005 • Cullen’s Residence •

Reader

The soothing motion of Carlisle’s car came to a gentle stop that didn’t completely wake me up. But the cold arms reaching under me to lift me from the vehicle certainly did. As he began to lift me, Jasper made sure to secure the hem of my dress for my modesty causing me to smile sleepily at his thoughtfulness.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” He asks quietly, speaking softly into my hairline.

“You.” I blush immediately at my whispered confession, keeping my eyes closed and face buried in his shoulder.

“Mmm, I think I like sleepy Y/n.” He says with a chuckle that rumbles through me.

I finally look up at our surroundings, noticing we’re at his house instead of mine.

“Why-”

“Your mom isn’t expecting us until tomorrow afternoon, normal people don’t make a twenty-four hour drive without sleeping.” Somehow he manages to open the front door without setting me down. “So, you’re going to get some rest while I go for a hunt.”

I blink up at him slowly as he continues his path through his house. I get another day with him? Well, however much is left once his hunger is satiated.

“My siblings are at school, Esme is redecorating with one of her clients, and Carlisle is at the hospital so the house is yours for most of the day.” Jasper explains, walking down the hallway and finally into his room before returning me gently back to solid ground.

His massive king bed is as immaculately made as the first time I saw it and just as inviting. The longer I admire the fluffy black duvet and mountain of pillows, the more aware I am of all the little aches and pains sleeping in the car caused. Not to mention the lingering tenderness of my healing ribs and the other broken parts of me.

Jasper turns me to face his black gaze, “Climb in and get some sleep, Esme stocked the kitchen for you and I’ll be back before you know it.” It comes out almost robotic, but I see that he’s trying - his hunger covers every inch of his face and keeps his body rigid.

“Take your time, I won’t leave without you.” I reassure him with a half smile, especially since I never made that exact promise in the hotel.

He leans in to plant a kiss to my temple before he’s gone with a small breeze and a lingering coolness on my skin as the only signs he was just there. Sighing, I slide the thick drapes closed to stop the morning sun from shining through the beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows.

I stop in the doorway to his closet before reaching the bed, contemplating snooping for something more comfortable to sleep in. Would stealing a shirt be too much? We aren’t even dating, but I do have permission to sleep in his bed… the dresser on the far wall tempts me forward. What’s one shirt to a vampire?

Sliding open the middle drawer in search of anything comfier than a dress, a small note card is waiting on top of his neatly folded shirts:

He doesn’t mind one bit.

- A

Christ, this woman thinks of everything. Grinning, I step out of my sundress and pick up a black short sleeve that’s a couple sizes too big. It hits the tops of my thighs, but since I’m home alone - I don’t think twice before climbing into his bed and situating myself for a much needed rest.

Inhaling the scent that’s so distinctly Jasper Hale, sleep finds me easily for the first time in a very long time.

Jasper

She’s in my shirt. In my bed. In my room. My sheets twisted around her legs. My pillows cradling her body. My scent mingling with hers and settling into the walls, the carpet, the bookshelves, the bed, my lungs.

I close my eyes and slowly retreat out of my room, shutting the door almost completely silent and resting my head on the wood.

“You good?” Emmett’s question almost startles me right out of my skin.

I sigh, “That hunt was almost for fucking nothing.” I turn my darkening eyes toward my brother to see surprise sweeping his face.

“You just got back!” He whisper yells with a wide-eyed look, knowing Y/n is asleep.

“She’s-” a low growl gets the better of me and I immediately tamp it down, closing my eyes in concentration.

A chuckle poorly contained slips from my brother and my eyes burst open to give him a deadly glare.

“You got it bad, brother.” He claps my shoulder with one of his massive hands and steers me down the hallway, putting distance between me and my greatest temptation. “You’ve got it so bad.”

Reader

I wake with a yawn and a stretch, relishing in the softness of Jasper’s sheets.

My eyes snap open. Jasper’s sheets.

I’m in Jasper Hale’s bed, wearing his shirt and my underwear and nothing else.

Shooting up into a sitting position, I glance around wildly trying to determine what time it was, but my eyes stop in the corner of his room. Jasper, sitting in a chair reading a book by a dim lamp.

“It’s almost seven, you slept most of the day. How was your nap, darlin’?” Setting his book down on his lap, he meets my gaze with a sly grin before sliding his eyes down my legs. “I see you made yourself comfortable.”

I gasp, “I-I uh-” fumbling for an explanation as to why I’m half-naked in his bed and absolutely failing.

“Sweetheart, it’s alright. A very nice view to come home to, so I guess you could say it’s more than alright.” He stalks forward slowly, light brown eyes holding me in a trance.

I blush deeply at his words and pull the blankets up to my chest, wishing these sheets could swallow me up.

Just then, a knock at the door and Alice pokes her head inside, “Oh good - you’re up! Get decent, everyone is getting together in the living room for movie night!” She finishes with a wink and is gone as fast as she arrived.

Jasper disappears into his closet and re-emerges with a pair of black sweats, setting them in my lap and leaning forward to whisper in my ear, “Can’t have a lady walking around in just my shirt, huh darlin’?”

Watching him duck out of the room so that I can slip on the bottoms, I contemplate making a run for it to put an end to all this teasing. The blush on my cheeks might as well be permanent.

Jasper

Movie night, really? I direct the thought at Edward and watch him throw a bored, pointed look at our scheming sister before leaving.

Alice replies with a grin, tossing me a blanket presumably for Y/n, “Oh hush, I’m just doing my sisterly duty of moving things along.” She floats past us, preparing the rom-com she selected.

“Don’t even look at me.” Rose waves a hand in dismissal as I raise my eyebrows at her, “I want nothing to do with your human.”

“C’mon, babe-” Emmett whines, but stops at the murderous look in his mate’s eyes. He continues anyways with a semi-serious whisper, “It’s the first time in like, forever since he’s even come close to getting any-”

I cut his inappropriate sentence off with a pillow to the face just as Y/n turns the corner into the room.

“Vampires have pillow fights at night?” She asks playfully, scanning the couch for a spot to sit. My clothes are swarming her and it stirs something I thought was long dead in my chest.

“Vampires do a lot of things at-” Emmett teases her, but this time Rosalie is the one to stop him with a smack to his chest.

Shaking my head, I find a spot on the opposite end of the long sectional from Emmett so as to limit the teasing. Embarrassment and a little something else I can’t quite put my finger on flows from her, so I pat the empty space next to me and hold out my hand for her to take. Once she’s settled with her legs tucked against her chest, I turn to ask Alice to press play and find her already giving me a pointed look. I wrap my arm around Y/n and pull her closer to settle against me, my sister smiles self-satisfied before hopping to the couch and starting the movie.

“Relax, sweetheart.” I whisper in her hair and I’m immediately shushed by Rose.

Y/n finally releases the tension in her body about five minutes into the movie and ten minutes after that, her legs are in my lap with the blanket pulled up to her chin.

“Alice, Rose? Can I get your help with opinions for a client?” Esme calls as she walks through the doorway to the garage halfway into the movie. “And Emmett, mind picking up Carlisle after his shift, sweetheart? I took his car this morning.”

All three of my siblings leave the room, Alice tossing me the remote and Emmett not-so-subtly flashing me a wink. He disappears before Y/n could notice and I could throw another pillow.

I feel her nerves ramp up as the house quiets again, I attempt to ground her by sliding a hand around her ankle under the blanket and it immediately has the opposite effect. Turning to her, she’s already watching me with her mouth open ready to say something, but it’s stuck. So my eyes drift to her mouth, lips that have tempted me from day fucking one. I know she sees what I’m fixated on, because her breath hitches and I tighten my grip on her ankle minutely - not to be painful, but a warning.

“Jasper-”

“May I?” I ask zoned in on her lips, unable to even want to hold myself back anymore. A curious Icarus to her solar flame.

She nods in a daze as my fingers trail her chin, but it’s not enough. “Words, darlin’. I need you to-”

But she’s leaning forward with a whisper, “Yes, Jasper.”

I swear time stops as a buzzing drowns my ears. Breaths puff from her beautiful lips in short spurts, anticipation oozes from her. I have to take a few seconds to collect myself, my mind running rampant.

I slide my hand around to cradle the back of her head and tilt it backwards, the tv casting a warm glow on her face. A shiver wracks through her and I tense, “Do not move.” The request is more of an order and she obeys instantly.

Leaning forward, her warm breath fans across my face before it stops with a sharp inhale. The only sound is her pounding heart and I swear it stutters as I gently meet her lips with mine.

Burning. This burning feeling starts where my lips tangle with hers and it travels down my throat to grip my rock-solid heart in a painful squeeze. Her mouth is warm and pliant where mine is cold and unyielding. Her nose is pressed against mine like a puzzle piece I’ve been missing. It’s absolutely bliss, her lips molding to mine, better than any indulgence I could possibly think up. Her quickening heart rate reminds me to reluctantly retreat - humans and their need for air.

I separate just barely from her mouth and she sucks in a gasp that tears my soul from my chest making me want to dive right back in. Opening my eyes to make sure this is in fact reality, hers are still lightly shut, bliss emanating from every single pore.

How on earth do I go about my day now? Knowing this perfection exists? She’s human, I can’t very well spend eternity kissing her here on this couch.

My groan causes her eyes to flash open and I notice they’re completely dilated, a dangerous observation for my control.

“Are you? I-I mean, did you not-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” My voice comes out huskier than I’d like and instantly she relaxes in my grip.

I push back a single strand of hair that blew across her face as I let out a long breath, barely an inch of space between us still. My willpower is at an all time low as we continue to stare at each other in somewhat surprise.

“Jaz?”

“Yes, darlin’?” I’m utterly raptured by her, firmly ensnared by this gorgeous girl - even more so than the moment I met her.

“Can… Can I?” Her question is open and tentative, but I can tell exactly what she wants and I’ll be damned if I don’t give it to her.

“Anything you want, it’s yours sweetheart.” It’s my turn to hold still, to wait patiently for her to come to me.

Reader

Holy fucking shit.

This without a doubt is what it’s like to have an addiction at first taste. Jasper Hale just kissed me and I’m about to kiss him, again.

I lean forward and smooth my hands up his chest to the base of his head, my fingers finding the short ringlets that hide under the bulk of his beautiful blonde hair. He’s deathly still with his eyes closed, allowing me to take the lead - but I also know this is a tricky situation with his control.

My nose bumps his as my eyes flutter closed and it’s his turn to elicit a sharp inhale. Nerves begin to flood my throat with cotton, but they’re gone almost as quickly, Jasper wiping them away with probably half a thought.

I closed the minuscule gap and my lips brush his a little deeper this time, relishing in the temperature difference. Kissing Jasper is in a category of its own, gone are the days I’ll ever settle for the warm mouth of any plain boy ever again.

Opening my lips enough to snake my tongue out for just a taste-

Suddenly there’s a couch-worth of separation between us and both of us are gasping for air like we’ve just run a marathon. His eyes are wide and wild, a darker brown than I distinctly remember a few moments ago.

“I-I’m so sorry,” his voice is strained and his hands are digging through his hair roughly, “Forgive me, darlin’-”

He fumbles at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing with no sound. Immediately I feel terrible because I pushed a boundary he wasn’t ready for.

“Jasper, please-I messed up and I’m so sorry.” I plead from my spot, scared to go and comfort him.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I should have my shit together-” but I stop his panicked apology.

“Look at me, please.” His eyes snap to mine at the request. I scoot closer to him slowly, stopping just within arms reach so as not to invade his personal space. “Can you close your eyes and just, feel with me?”

He takes half a second of hesitation before trusting me, his dark eyes snapping closed with a furrow in his brow. Taking a deep breath, I close my own and focus on exuding positive energy. Calm, content, tranquil - my mind running over any remotely helpful feeling to settle his inner turmoil. After a few moments of the impromptu meditation session, I open my eyes feeling much more relaxed. Staring back at me is the face of a much calmer, but shocked man.

“Did that work? I wasn’t sure, but-”

“You… No one has ever done something like that-darlin’.” Once again I’ve rendered him speechless and it brings a smile to my lips.

“Get used to it Hale, you’re stuck with me now.” I tell him, smug.

“Is that so?” He pulls me closer to him with a grin on his lips, the joy in my chest causing a laugh to burst from me as I toss my head back.

There isn’t a single place I’d rather be than his arms and I’m so glad he’s constantly opening pieces of himself up to let me worm my way inside.

Taglist:

@aoi-targaryen

@min-jianhyung

@pbbsl

@timelordhunterandmysterysolver

@sheerangermany

@clearwater-hoe

@blackbluerose666

@ivy-plays

@random-human02

@delightfulbluebirdstarlight

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs

@gaymazinglula

@l3ejm

@angelfuzzy2

@losa12308

@thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads

@flyawayprincess

@ropickl

@ropickle

#bless-my-demons #redamancy series #jasper hale x reader #twilight #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale #female reader insert #jasper hale x female!reader #jasper hale twilight

351 notes · View notes