#/last time i did something like this to him it was with the Snails Can Go Up To 75 mph When Threatened screenshot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dollymoon · 8 months

Text

🍄Mushroom Oasis - Mychael Facts Compilation🍄

A facts compilation of Mychael from Mushroom Oasis by @deerspherestudios.

All of these come from what they’ve replied in their tumblr! I write these down as the creator, Cheea, has stated them with a few changes/summarizing in some for easier reading.

There may be some light minor spoilers a tiny bit here and there!

The 1st half will be general Mychael information and then the 2nd half with be more Mychael & MC information.

-------------------------🍄🍄🍄

💚Here’s a NARRATIVE PLAYLIST [by Cheea] based off Day 1 of Mushroom Oasis and a MYCHAEL PLAYLIST [also by Cheea], if you wish to listen to them while reading~💚

💛What made you want to write such an empathetic and slow burn kind of Yandere? [Source 1 & 2] initially it was gonna be a snail monsterman who steals crops out of your back garden and you go out to bonk him on the head only to invite him into your home. Maybe in the future i'll work on the snailboy dating sim </3

But I think I’ve always wanted a cryptid-like yandere for the gamejam when it all started. It was a very barebones concept about a lonely mushroom man who sets up spore traps in order to ensnare and kidnap company. It was supposed to be way creepier and invasive as a oneshot thing, and was never meant to have multiple days in the story. I’m glad I didn’t go in that direction, though. I’m having more fun fleshing out Mychael’s character.

So when I started Mushroom Oasis, I wanted to go for a strangers-to-lovers scenario, instead of starting out with the yandere already smitten with the MC. That way, he gets to know you at the same time as you getting to know him. Hence, the attempt at slow burn haha. I just thought it’d be interesting to try and express it differently. I don’t know if I’m able to execute my intentions well but I’m doing my best! it's gonna be fun writing him as he starts to spiral :-3c Laddie doesn't know what attraction/attachment feels like. Woe be upon ye

💛Was Mychael always going to be named Mychael, or did he have other names upon his initial creation? And does he have a last name? [Source 1 & 2] Always been Mychael! Lorewise he has a different name but MC wouldn’t be able to pronounce it, so he goes by Mychael. And he doesn’t have a last name :-] He’s just Mychael!

💛What species is Mychael? Is he a faerie? [Source] As much as everyone calls him faefolk, he isn't! He's more… monster-oriented I suppose? Creature or cryptid-like. I'm not sure what to categorize him tbh hahaha.

💛Is Mychael over 18? [Source 1 & 2] Oh he’s WAY over 18. He’s way older than he looks.

💛What’s Mychael’s Height? (Dolly’s note🌹): So initially, Mychael’s height was 5'8 but then Cheea said “Mychael is 5'8 (172cm) in the demo! I just wonder if I should've made him a big boi since the beginning but i held myself back 😔” But they didn’t want to make the decision just themselves; thus they made a poll to keep Mychael as is, or to make him taller, taking into account the fan’s wishes as well. The one that won was making Mychael taller. (54.5% vs 45.5%).

And thus Cheea decided his new height would be 6'2. Cheea also added “I think it’s a fair balance since taller Mychael won the majority vote, but a vocal few really liked his original height, so I decided to go in the middle <3”

So yeah his current height is 6’2 (187cm approximately).

💛His sexuality and gender Identity? [Source] He identifies as male with he/him pronouns. And I’ve decided panromantic asexual fits him best! I just don't find him being too sexual tbh. Graysexual at best. Feel free to interpret it differently.

💛Are you okay with NSFW art of Mychael? [Source] 50/50? I’m an adult and so is he as a character. I’d say I wouldn’t mind as long as it’s properly tagged and only the right people have access to it 👍I will not share it on my main blog though but tag it as ‘mushroom oasis nsfw’ or something so people can blacklist it.

💛Mychael’s Headcanon voice? [Source] Jonathan Groff! Particularly his role as Kristoff in Frozen.

💛Can he sing like how Kristoff does in frozen? [Source] I’d imagine he could! He’s not much for singing though, he’s more likely to hum random tunes throughout the day.

💛Are Mychael's scleras just black or is it like a void/empty socket? [Source] He just has black scleras!

💛Does Mychael have tear ducts in his lower eyes? [Source] They do!! The lower eyes basically work like regular eyes, just smaller below his main ones. They can blink independently of each other too.

💛How does Mychael see if he leaves only one pair of his eyes open? It forms a blind spot but depends on which pair he closes! He sees 90% out of his upper eyes and 10% out of his bottom half. His ability also relies on eye contact, so by having both sets locked onto someone else's gaze the influence is stronger. And here’s an illustrated example!

💛Can Mychael see in the dark? [Source] Yes he can see in the dark; his eyes have that tapetum lucidum layer that reflects light in the dark, so they also glow :-)

💛What's Mychael's skin texture like? [Source] Almost human but you can tell something’s different. Eerily smooth, despite his rough palms. If you pinch his cheeks or poke his sides enough times (if he doesn’t get mad at you for it) you’d be able to tell his skin’s a bit thicker than yours. Also like fungi I imagine his skin has chitin. So a bit tougher maybe.

💛Are Mychael's horns and tail soft and fragile like an actual mushroom? [Source] If you mean the shroom-like caps on his head and tip of his tail; soft but definitely not fragile. Think of those cheap squishies with some give but bounce back pretty quick! They’re susceptible to bruising too.

💛Is Mychael’s tail poisonous? If not, how would Mychael react if someone bit it? [Source 1 & 2] Nop it isn’t poisonous. And like… a straight up bite out of it?? Or a nibble??? If you bit him so hard it takes a piece of his tail it’d hurt and bleed a lot. It’s full of nerve endings but will heal over and regenerate eventually.

If it’s just a nibble you’d just taste dirt and bitterness I think haha. And depending on how close you are to him, he’d either be flustered beyond belief or just downright very uncomfortable hahaha.

💛Is Mychael’s blood blue because some irl creatures have blue blood due to their blood having copper instead of iron or was it for aesthetic reasons? [Source] It was definitely for aesthetic purposes more than anything, since I wanted him to blush a non-human color. One of the earlier concept sketches had him blushing bright magenta haha.

💛What does Mychael smell like? [Source] I’d describe it as freshly cut grass with a hint of log fires. Like camping in summer if that makes sense.

💛Does Mychael purr? [Source] Since im honestly a sucker for the purring trope i'll say hell yea tbh hahaha. His would be a really low rumble I'd imagine. He can also occasionally let out a low trill or those ‘mrrp’ sounds when he’s caught off guard or surprised but it's rare since he's real embarrassed when he does it.

💛Is Michael ticklish? [Source] Considering he’s never been tickled before,,, I think he’d go into shock if you did that to him💀 But to answer your question yeah I think he’d be the most ticklish person you’ve ever met haha. He’s either gonna accept his fate or go down fighting😔

💛Does Mychael snore in his sleep? [Source] He’d be a pretty quiet sleeper I think!

💛Does Mychael get sick? Since he’s not human, he doesn’t get sick like we do:

He’s aware we call it being sick, but his term is ‘feeling withered/wilted.’

He doesn’t have a temperature, but his skin turns pale and blemished like a diseased plant, and gets kinda slimy and cold like a frog’s. Here's a visual of how he looks like sick.

No energy, no appetite, barely talks. Very zombie-ish.

He gets real drowsy and dazed and the only thing to motivate him is seeking out warmth.

He just needs sunshine and sleep to get better so you’d find him laying out in the sun during the day and hiding away in blankets at night, sleeping it off. He only eats once a day, since his body needs rest rather than sustenance.

He gets sick like... once every few years that's how rare it is but when it happens it knocks him out for like a week </3

💛Does Mychael fear metal? What phobias does he have? [Source 1 & 2] No, he doesn’t fear metal and iron wouldn't hurt him! His phobias/fears are: snowstorms, thunder/lightning and water wells. In no particular order :-) (Oh, and trains/train whistles.)

💛Does Michael have any food that he hates? [Source] Anything spicy! He can handle some spice, but anything that gives heat on your tongue he’d definitely be put off since it makes him physically ill.

💛Mychael's life cycle: [Source] His life cycle is very different from a human’s.

💛Does Mychael have his own languge? If so, what does it sound like? [Source 1 & 2] He actually has his own language, but speaks in English (or your own language if you’d prefer!)

His language sounds very animalistic; a lot of growls, hisses and clicks. It’s like hearing a cat verbally communicate with those sounds. If you guys are familiar with Toki Pona, (here’s a video for reference.) the simplicity is very similar in terms of vocab and sentence structure. Considering the limitations of those same growls, hisses and clicks, plus how little he communicates in his own language, it’s not a complex system but he speaks it regardless. He wont be speaking it in-game hence why im okay answering the question.

💛Can Mychael read? [Source] Yep, he can read! He talks about it some more in Day 2.

💛Can Mychael swim? [Source] He’d be able to swim, yeah.

💛How much does Mychael know of human customs/cooking/inventions? And does he like/dislike some of them? [Source] He knows enough to make a living for himself. He’s really into DIY and crafting, but if anything gets more complex to the point it goes over his head- he’d just abandon it. As for human customs he knows even less; it’s kinda touch and go what he does and doesn’t know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ For example, he's seen cars and phones but doesn't understand how they work. Traditional stuff like crafting/cooking/gardening is easier for him to grasp.

💛Does Mychael have any religion/belief? [Source] I’ve played around with this concept in my head! I did want to explore a unique kind of religion/belief Mychael has but,,, eventually I kinda settled on the idea that Mychael broke off from that way of thinking? Or something like that. It can be accepted that he used to have a religion- or never had one to begin with. it's a tricky subject for me anyway </3 But feel free to have your own interpretation!

💛Does Mychael have any superstitions? [Source] His biggest superstition is respecting the forest and whatever happens in the forest, stays in the forest. (That is until you came along and made him break his own rule. Whoops.)

💛What's Mychael’s wardrobe like? [Source] He’s not much for fashion; as long as he thinks it’s practical and comfortable he’d wear it. He wouldn’t be a fan of clothes that’re less weather-resistent though, since he clearly needs stuff that could stand the wilderness.

He doesn’t accessorize much either, preferring to keep simple and be as drab as possible to attract less attention. But I think he’d love to try nail polish :-)) He has a lot of hats and scarves though.

💛Would Mychael be willing to wear a dress? [Source] I’d like to think he’s tried em before! He kinda had to scrap by when it came to clothes so he wouldn’t be picky in his early days.

Nowadays, he probably thinks they’re nice to wear but impractical for his daily chores, so he mostly sticks to tops and bottoms. But he won’t be opposed to it.

💛When did Mychael start knitting and why? [Source] He’s been knitting for a few years, so he’s kinda advanced. As for why, he finds it relaxing especially after a long day, and usually does it before bedtime. Plus he just loves being bundled up in warm things in general.

💛What is Mychael's favorite thing to knit? [Source] His favorite thing to knit are beanies!! :-D

💛What are other craftsmanship does Mychael do? [Source 1 & 2] He’s tried out woodworking, sculpting, candle-making, pottery etc. Knitting just happens to be his favorite of all the things he’s tried haha. Assume Mychaels an expert at gardening too!

💛Does Mychael ever overwork himself to the point of almost passing out? [Source] He definitely used to! It’s not easy making a living out in the wilderness; especially when he only had himself to rely on. Thankfully he doesn’t need to go through that anymore; he’s made a pretty nice home for himself since then. He's been thru a lot. Sopping wet cat energy.

💛How long has Mychael been in his home/cabin for? [Source] Previously he’d wander around like a nomad before finding himself a home. He’s only settled down into his cabin in the woods for a few years, it’s still a work in progress by his standards.

💛Does Mychael like stargazing? [Source] He’s more of a daytime person tbh! At night he’d prefer to stay cozy indoors. When you spend half your life sleeping outside in the cold. You don't miss it much despite the pretty lights in the sky.

💛What kind of music does Mychael listen to? [Source] Hm! He rarely listens to music, so he doesn’t have a preference tbh. If he had to choose- Perhaps something more upbeat and dancey since it’s a nice change from the quiet, but only for short periods. He’d probably enjoy whatever you’re listening to if you give him the chance :-)! Lyrics don't matter as much to him. He'd just enjoy it based off the sound.

💛What are some of Mychael's favorite scents? [Source] Top 3 would be the smell of old books, honey and (strangely enough) gasoline??? But the last one is soso rare for him he finds it exciting when he happens to catch a whiff, even if he has no idea what it is haha.

If you happen to be the type to wear perfumes/scents, he’d quickly associate the smell with you and have it be another one of his favorites :-)

💛How would Mychael react if he found a lost child in the woods? [Source] He’d be surprised for sure. His part of the woods is pretty untouched by humans, so to find one wandering this far is definitely a shock to him. If the kid was too scared to let him approach, he’d have to use a tiny fraction of his ability to calm them down, so as not to leave any side effects (younger minds are more vulnerable to it). If the kid wasn’t scared and asked if he was some sort of woodland fae/goblin creature, he’d go along with it and say he’s come to rescue them.

After making sure the kid is alright, he’d either try to find the parents straight away or bring them home if they needed food or rest. He wouldn’t dare adopt a child willy nilly, and if there was no other way, he’d probably drop them somewhere like a police or fire station (he can’t really differentiate between them, just that they respond to emergencies).

Overall he’s not opposed to being around children, just not used to it.

💛I see Mychael as a very docile and friendly creature- but in the 3rd ending of the game "Playing Pretend" left me with a doubt... Would he really be a bad guy? [Source] You’re not wrong! Mychael’s not the most violent, even if he is capable of it. In Ending 3 he just… panicked. Though don’t underestimate the things he’d resort to when he realizes how attached he’s getting to you :-)

He’s calm and composed… until he isn’t.

💛How many creatures/people has Mychael found "affected" by those mushrooms that the MC came across? [Source] You’re not the first, that’s for sure! He definitely knows about them, but finds it unnecessary to tell you (at least for now). He was quick to dismiss your doubts on how you lost consciousness, giving you an easy explanation even if he had to lie.

Most of the time he lets the incapacitated creatures be; “it’s the will of the forest,” after all. Although he does break that rule when he finds humans that’re still alive (in this case, you!) in his forest, but that’s very very rare.

💛How would Mychael act if MC introduced him to their friend? MC told their friend that Mychael wouldn't hurt them but the friend is still a little scared and weary of him. [Source] Definitely wary of them too. He kinda trusts you, but can he trust them? He’s met his fair share of humans; not a lot of them were as accepting as you. He can try to lower his guard but your friend would need to convince him themself.

💛Mychael & MC in Day 1 of the game. [Source] Mychael, as a person, is quite solitary in nature; he likes being alone and you’ll find out why. He does however desire company and he’s only realized just how pleasant having someone around can be (hence his reaction for the Bad Endings in Day 1 if you wish to leave/run away).

You grow closer to Mychael as you hang out with him and do little things that he appreciates. Example: The first thing that boosts you to immediate friend status is your willingness to accept his physical looks, something that’s never happened to him before. Little things like that mean a lot to him and motivates him to prolong your stay.

If Mychael met a more grouchy/mean MC on Day 1 he’d probably not be as attached. He’d just save you, feed you and send you home when you ask hahaha. Of course, this will change as he gets to know you better, at that stage he’ll be willing to overlook your flaws like any upstanding yandere.

💛How would Mychael react if the player character was already in a relationship with someone else? [Source] At his current attachment in Day 1 [Friend status], he’d be respectful about it! A little overprotective but mostly curious what dating and marriage is all about. He’s not familiar with it outside of whatever knowledge he happened to pick up.

Now if he’s grown obsessed developed feelings and found out afterwards though…

💛Can you date Mychael in this game? Or not? [Source] I mean that's the goal! ¯_(ツ)_/¯ If his responses in asks currently give off a platonic vibe, that's because they are.

As of Day 1, Mychael's feelings towards you are positive but mostly platonic [Here's a visual affection level chart]. His bad endings show his desperation for company rather than you reciprocating any romantic feelings.

As I update the game, his responses will most likely be more romantically-driven. The game is a slow burn after all :-) He's a yandere- but a yandere who hasn't fallen in love yet. Though I do plan on adding a platonic ending bc sometimes u just wanna kiss a bestie without any romantic feelings attached.

💛What made you think of the pet name ‘Firefly’ for MC? [Source] It honestly just came to me as I was concepting the game ;v;! Other pet names Mychael would’ve used were: turtledove, poppet and sweetpea. He would switch it up in the initial draft but sticking to one makes it more special I think.

💛What does Mychael think about femboys? [Source] He doesn’t really mind nor care how you present yourself :-0! In fact he’d find it strange you asked that at all after you explain what it means dhfjsjf

💛Does Mychael have a gender preference? [Source] Not at all! His favorite genre of human is you :-) Plus gender talk goes way over his head. He's too busy thinking about survival to mind that stuff. Anything you identify with he's absolutely okay with <3

💛How would Mychael feel about someone a lot shorter than him? [Source] He had to admit he forgot adult humans come in your size,,, he wouldn’t think much of it though! He’s just excited to make a friend :-)

💛What would Mychael's "ideal type" be? [Source] I think he’d be more attracted to gentleness, I think. Someone who is kind despite a harsh reality; willing to understand a creature like him and someone he trusts he can drop his guard around.

But even if you don’t fit that criteria, he’d still like you as long as you accept him for who he is! There’s no need to worry about changing yourself to fit his preference <3

💛How did the player get to Mychael’s home? [Source] I always imagined it as piggyback to be honest! But bridal carry, a fireman’s carry, over-the-shoulder, whatever you guys are comfortable with he’s definitely capable of <3 He may be shorter than most (Dolly’s note🌹: His height changed since this ask so maybe not anymore lol so let's change it to 'He may seem weak') but he's strong.

💛Is MC permanently affected by the mushroom ring they stepped in? How much power does Mychael hold against it? [Source] No, MC is not permanently affected by the mushroom ring they stepped in. In one of the bad endings, the influence of it over you is stronger than what Mychael can fight against, hence he releases you as he sees it as the forest already claiming you fully. He can do nothing else to save you.

That’s why he insists on you staying for dinner, and is surprised when you say yes, as he really thought he lost you already for a moment there :-) Past that choice, the mysterious ‘purple’ influence no longer affects you, as Mychael had successfully distracted you long enough for the mind-altering effects to wear off. He just needed the right thing to say to keep you grounded. Lest you wander off and end up in the ground </3

💛If we asked, would he talk to us in his own language? [Source] If he were to talk in it you wouldn’t be able to differentiate one word to another, they all sound the same hahaha.

💛Can we research what type of fae creature Mychael is? Will he be okay with it? [Source] He might be apprehensive at first, but if you ask the right questions he’d probably answer just enough to satiate your curiosity. Don’t be surprised if he leaves out certain things though, he doesn’t want you to think he’s a freak. 💔 He doubts you'd find anything in research though but who knows

💛Do you think Mychael would be a good teacher, when it comes to knitting? [Source] He’s never taught anyone before but he’d be happy to! (He’d probably be a very hands-on teacher cuz he’s bad at explaining–)

💛What if you knitted something for Mychael? [Source] If you knitted something for him he’d probably wear it/look at it multiple times throughout the day getting butterflies in his stomach.

💛If MC brought him to a secret river as a gift would he go? [Source] The thing I’d correct is Mychael would bring MC to a river instead of the other way around hahaha. MC is the poor meowmeow who got lost in the woods on Day 1. Their ass would not!! know any secret rivers

💛How would Mychael react if MC threw him a surprise party, to celebrate his birthday or to celebrate the day they both met? [Source] I think he’d love it a lot!! He’s not one to celebrate much if anything, but he’d be so happy if you threw a little surprise just for him :-) Especially knowing he gets to spend time with his favorite person in the world for such a special occasion <3

💛Is there any fun activities that Mychael would drag MC to? [Source] Oh for sure! He’d probably take you outdoors a lot and show you all his favorite spots in the forest :-)!! He’d probably bring you along to do his daily errands if you’d allow it haha

💛What would Mychael say if I were to take two slices of bread, put his head in between and sweetly ask: "what are you?" The answer lol

💛What would Mychael’s reaction be if MC tried giving him spicy food? [Source] If you try to give him a spicy dish, he’d definitely smell it first before he even tastes it. He’d just politely decline in that scenario.

💛What is his opinion if MC is the type to snore? [Source] He's definitely the kind of person to have the TV on in the room even if their not watching- just to have some noise around the house. So if MC were the type to snore… he’d probably find the sound strangely comforting? He’d find it jarring at first but grow used to it quickly.

It’s nice to hear you and know that someone is around after being alone for so long, especially when he’s up during late nights <3

💛How would Mychael feel about an MC who steals and wears his sweaters? [Source] He’d find it strange why you’d wanna steal when you can just ask– he’d also find it very endearing. Should he be concerned that you're a potential thief?? Or just worry about how cute you look?? a moral dilemma

💛Is there any type of clothing that Mychael likes to see on MC? [Source] I’d imagine he’d like clothes on MC that are more earth-toned perhaps, greens and browns that remind him of his forest and such. :-) Loose clothes are a bonus too cuz it makes you look comfy around him! i think he'd be a fan of animal-themed clothes too; pawprint socks or a fox cap or a rabbit hoodie- something like that.

💛What is Mychael’s love language? [Source] This is assuming MC and Mychael have been friends/lovers for a while; When you’re on the receiving end: Offering Gifts 🎁💖

He’s never had anyone be around as long as you have; he’s kinda new to the gifting thing but does so with a lot of enthusiasm!!

Whether it’s something he made or found, knowing he chose it for you is what makes it soso special.

He just loves the idea of being able to give something that was a part of himself and insert it into your life if that makes sense.

He also loves doing it because he believes you deserve to have nice things with all his heart :-)!

If he’s not sure what to gift you he’d rely on pretty little knickknacks he thinks you’d like but still be on the safe side; flowers, jewelry, decorations and accessories.

But if he does figure out your interests he’d do his best to accommodate! Books, toys, tools and clothes… he has his means of getting stuff he can’t make himself.

The idea of you keeping his gifts as a sign of friendship/love makes him really happy!!

Lowkey if he sees you using/wearing/displaying a gift he gave in the past he’d be purring non-stop.

When he’s on the receiving end; Words of Affirmation 💬💕

We know how he feels about his physical appearance so this is a no-brainer. His self-esteem isn’t the best :’-)

Being alone/isolated as he is, he might confuse physical affection but nothing is more clear to him than words straight from your mouth about how much you mean to him <3

At first he wonders if you truly mean what you say when you talk so positively about him, but then he slowly starts to believe it.

Do not underestimate the impact of one (1) compliment as simple as “You look good today, Mychael.” He’d remember it for at least a week.

It’s a bit of a guessing game to figure out what gets him the best. If you praise his skill at something his response would be, “Oh I guess I got good at it. Thanks, firefly :-)” but if you praise his looks and mannerisms you’ve hit the jackpot.

Blushing, stuttering, avoiding your gaze level of embarrassment.

If you’re really close friends or basically dating, he will absolutely ask for your opinion on how you feel about him from time to time, just to get reassurance from you.

Overall nothing gets him better than just hearing positive remarks from a loving source aka you :-) <3

💛How would Mychael react if we made him some lunch while he was knitting and feed it to him? The cute illustrated answer

💛How would he react to a very clingy MC? [Source] If you mean very clingy, he’d be pretty tense about it, to be honest. He’s not used to physical touch but doesn’t mind it; if you take it easy and ask permission (so he doesn’t get overwhelmed) he’d be more okay with it! Just respect him when he asks you for space every once in a while <3

(Dolly’s note🌹: I can only guess but I think this answer is if you're still in the friend status because if this applies even in the obsessed status, the below Q&A would so funny in comparison)

💛But is Mychael clingy? This guy? Clingy? Nahhh. Nothing to worry about, anon :-)/s Here's a visual of his clinginess, he's very clingy yes lol.

💛Is Mychael the jealous type? [Source] It’s rare for him to feel jealous, but I’d imagine when it does happen he’d feel it very intensely on the inside. But you’d probably be none the wiser 💔

💛How would Mychael react if we confess our feelings to him? [Source] Bold of you to assume he won’t be the one to confess first 🤨

💛Does Mychael like to be kissed? [Source] His kind arent accustomed to physical affection. Does he even know what kissing is??? Thats for me to decide and you to figure out 👀 BUT He’d love getting kisses! On the cheeks especially :-) But careful not to overstimulate him; he’s kinda like a cat when you pet ‘em too much and they get all frazzled. Kisses on the lips he's less inclined but doesn't mind em time to time. Maybe like a peck or two. And here's a gif of pampering Mychael's face with kisses <3

💛Does Mychael know about marriage customs in human civilization? [Source] He’s familiar with human marriage the same way a young kid would be; involves inviting people, dressing up and wearing rings for some reason?? How strange to go to such lengths when you could just be around that same person the rest of your life and still be the same??

He doesn’t put much significance on it personally. Unless…? 👀 💛What would Mychael do if MC took care of him while he was sick? [Source] He’s not used to asking someone to care for him, but in this state if MC offered to help he’d honestly just ask you to keep him warm too with zero assumption as to what you might think. He’s just a little too out of it to be embarrassed about it. Example of providing him warmth.

💛Would Mychael let us hug him when he’s sick or would he push us away? Although, would this make us sick? [Source] He would! I’d say he’s the most physically clingiest when he’s sick. He’s basically sleepy all the time and other than seeking warmth, he doesn’t communicate much.

And no, we can’t get sick from him and vice versa, since our bodies are different from his. So no worries about getting yourself sick when you’re around him!

💛What would Mychael do if the MC got ill? [Source] Oh he’d be worried beyond belief! He wouldn’t leave you alone for a second.

He’s not familiar with human sickness, but he’d do his best to provide whatever it is you need. Hot soup, warm blankets, he’d even risk going to get medicine for you if you ask.

-------------------------🍄🍄🍄

Some facts I didn’t add as Cheea didn’t give a direct answer to some questions, like Mychael’s family, since they’ll eventually be answered in the game <3

But I hope you enjoy this and that it may be useful to you all!

#mushroom oasis #visual novel #mushroom oasis vn #mychael #mushroom oasis mychael #info organizing

431 notes · View notes

luveline · 10 months

Note

hi! i know ur not from the us so pls feel free to ignore this but i think a kbd fic where steve and the girls are doing sparklers for the fourth of july would be so cute! absolutely adore everything u post 🫶🏻

thank u!! sorry i know it isn't the fourth anymore bit I hope u enjoy regardless!! kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader show their daughters how to use sparklers for the first time, 2k

Steve isn't a huge fan of fireworks because of how dangerous they can be, but sparklers are just fine in his book. He buys a box of thirty. The girls can do ten each if they feel like it, though he knows Dove won't be interested, and he guesses Bethie will be too scared to hold them.

Still, he hopes. You're hosting a banquet of food when he arrives, a mixture of things you made and stuff he prepared yesterday. It's a feast of hotdogs and burgers, cupcakes and donuts, macaroni and cheese and chilli with white rice. The table is crammed with plates and the radio is on, playing fun pop music a little too loudly for Dove's taste, her hands over her ears.

You turn down the radio, and ask her where she sits on your hip, "Is that better, sweetheart?"

"Hey," he says, putting the box of sparklers on the counter.

"Hey, Stevie," you say, in a rare tone. You always talk to him with love but he adores how you say his name now, like you've never been happier to see him in your entire life. "They had some?"

"Lucky, right? Guess I'm not the only schmuck who forgot to buy some."

Avery rushes for his legs, a chocolate donut in one hand and a cup of juice in the other. Despite her luggage, she expects to be picked up. Steve grabs her.

"You're cold, dad," she says.

"Really? It's not cold out," he says.

"You need something to warm you up."

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Sure I do. Give me a hug, but don't get icing in my hair, please."

Avery hugs him, sticky cheek pressing into his as her arms strain around him. He pats her back, meeting your eyes and returning your happy smile. Steve turns on the spot to see Bethie practically elbow deep in a bowl of chilli. She loves anything that comes with rice, and she eats it like someone's going to take it away from her, chilli staining her lips and cheeks, a grain of rice stuck to her chin.

"Did you get a photo of that?" he asks.

"Of course I did," you laugh, putting Dove down to brace yourself against the counter. You stretch your neck in a tight circle.

"Thank you. Beth, that looks so nice! Are you saving any for me?"

"No!" she says happily, smiling wide as an ocean.

"Good girl. Alright, you tell me when you're finished, I have something fun for after dinner."

Dinner gets put on pause. You wipe Bethie's face clean, giggling the whole time and telling her how cute she is in your saccharine mommy voice that melts her, "We should have that more often, huh?" It's always a good day when Bethie eats well.

Steve helps Avery put her shoes on and together they step out into the backyard. It's small considering the house is a four bedroom, but maybe that's why you'd been able to afford it in the first place. You work with what space you have. There's a light wood fence, the perimeter half lined by pansies and the other side with a slim shed full of their bikes and scooters and a small bed where the girls attempted to grow strawberries last year. They didn't take, but Steve has hope for this summer.

The yard is clean though slightly neglected, and Steve has to work spider duty before Avery will agree to step off of the doorjam. You follow soon, Dove at your shins, Bethie cautious as she steps out in her socks behind you.

"Where's your shoes?" Steve asks her.

"I told her she didn't have to wear them," you say. "She says they're pinching her toes."

Steve had Beth's feet measured specifically to avoid that. He assumes it isn't pinching so much as not wanting to wear them. He shrugs. "Okay. Stay on the stones then, Beth, I don't know what's in the grass. You might step on a snail."

"Ew," she says, sitting down in the doorway.

Steve lights a sparkler for no one first of all, wondering how each girl will react. He hands it to you as the sparks jump to life, white and bright in the shade of the garden, the shadow of their house. You wave it around gently, but when each of your daughters gasps in unhappy shock, you hold your hand under the sparkler and let a spark kiss your palm.

"They aren't dangerous," you promise. You wave it into a heart, a star, the letter A. "Does anyone wanna try?"

"Me!" Avery shouts, holding out her hand. The sparkler burns remarkably quickly down to the stem.

"Dad will give you a new one. Hey, baby?" you put the sparkler down on the glass patio table as it sputters out. "Don't you have those gardening gloves?"

Soon, Steve's outfitted each girl in a glove too big for their hand. He passes Avery a sparkler, and her bravery and subsequent joy prompts some jealousy in Bethie, fighting her fear to take one too. You crouch down to stand with her as she waves it around, her eyes like saucers as white sparks fly.

"It's so pretty!" you say.

Dove is interested, but not in holding one. Steve picks her up and lights a sparkler, raising it away from her curious hands to draw her name. Avery squeaks with happiness and proclaims it as magic. "Dad, I'm a fairy!"

"I can see! Try not to put it by your hair, okay?"

She squeals some more until it dies in her hand. "Can I have another one?"

"Ooh," you coo, watching with pride as Bethie draws a circle with hers, "my girl's brave today, I'm super proud of you. Isn't this fun?"

Steve lights another one for Avery and gives Dove a loving kiss, thrilled to see them all this happy. He's really surprised Bethie's enjoying herself, but he supposes it would be hard for her to have a bad time with your hands on her shoulders, your encouragement soft and shining as angora silk.

They must use up four or five each like that.

"Daddy," Dove says, imploring as she touches his face.

"What?" he asks, thinking of tacking 'my little princess' on the end but withholding. Lately every sentence he says has a pet name squeezed in the middle. He has a lot of love to give.

She looks at him. He pats her small back, wondering if she's going to bless him with a sentence or two. She's old enough now to be talking, but she's quiet like Bethie most of the time. Or, she's not talkative —Dove is far from quiet.

"Hotdog, please."

Steve laughs loudly. "You want me to make you a hotdog?"

"And ketchup."

"Yeah, I can make you a hotdog. You don't want to stay for another sparkler?" he asks.

"No."

He laughs again, pressing another kiss overtop the first one he'd laid on her chubby cheek. "Thank you for saying please, sweetheart. You're such a good girl."

"Can I have a hotdog, too?" Avery asks.

"Sure you can, whatever you want. Beth? Mom?"

You've sat down on the floor. You're probably cold, but your smile would never show it. "I think me and Bethie are going to have another helping of chilli and rice, aren't we?" you ask hopefully.

Bethie's sparkler fizzles out. "Can we do more sparklers again?"

"Yeah. Tell you what, let's go back inside for food and when everyone's full, we'll come outside and do some more before bed. Sound good?"

The girls head inside, and Steve makes some hotdogs on the stove. Dove falls asleep with a bun in her hand, Bethie with her cheeks painted in sauce. Avery doesn't tire so easily, and while the others sleep, you and Steve take her out to the back door to light another sparkler. You write your names, you draw clumsy constellations. Steve writes 'I love

Avery,' grinning as she sounds out each letter.

Avery relishes in the delight of having your unfettered attention. She stays up for hours after her sisters with you and Steve, long enough to watch stray fireworks shoot up into the sky over your backyard, her head on your shoulder, her hand in Steve's hand.

"This is the best day ever," she says.

Steve wants to cry. Genuinely. He meets your eyes over Avery's head, and you shuffle closer to her without speaking, enveloping her in a hug from either side.

"Every day is the best day ever with you around, Ave," Steve says.

"The best. Me and dad tried some fireworks, when you weren't born." Steve and Avery look at you with mirrored interest. He doesn't remember what story you're going to tell. "You would've been very small in me at the time," you say, looking up as a pink and white firework blossoms across the night sky like a peony. "Like a strawberry seed. We… didn't know you were coming. I knew. I knew, but I didn't know. I could feel you right here," —you point at your stomach— "but I had no idea what you were going to be."

"Hey, you're right," Steve says. He forgets you were pregnant before you knew it.

"But me and dad lived together already," you say. "We were always going to get married and have babies and stuff, but you came really quickly. You were excited."

Steve grins. Avery hangs on your every word.

"But anyway, me and dad lived together. Not here, but somewhere, and we didn't have a yard but there was a little patch of grass and we figured we'd buy some, but he burned a stripe of my arm hair off by accident with a long lighter, and the we didn't have a fence to nail the Catherine wheel down, and he accidentally dropped the firecracker box on the way home so it didn't work anymore, and the rockets wouldn't light."

"Oh, no," Avery says. "You didn't have any fireworks?"

"None. But we had a pack of sparklers. We did it just like we did with you. I wrote 'I love Stevie' in big letters, and your dad tried to hug me and jabbed me in the stomach with his burned up one."

"Your hoodie," Steve remembers finally. "Your white hoodie, I bought it for you the week before at the mall after you threw up in Dairy Queen. I remember."

"I had it for a week, and he got this huge ash smudge on it."

"But you wouldn't let me wash it with bleach."

You give Avery a kiss on the top of her head. "I wanted to remember how happy we were. I thought the smudge was a nice reminder. Turns out I got much more than a smudge."

"You got me," Avery decodes.

"We got you," you say. "You're a thousand different things, Avery. You're smart, and kind, and pretty, and you're also a really good reminder that your dad loves me."

"Do you need a reminder?" Steve asks, genuinely worried, and kind of in awe. How you can sit there and say something that romantic off the cuff is beyond him. He really might cry soon.

"No," you say smugly. "You tell me all the time."

Not enough, he decides. After this, he'll be sure to tell you more.

Steve falls in love with you for the thousandth time.

"What I'm trying to tell you, Ave, is that dad is right. Every day with you in it is a really good day. I love you so much," you start to fizzle, which is to say your voice gets tight. You won't cry, but Steve teeters. "I'm really, really happy you had the best day ever, 'cos you make every day the best for dad and your sisters and me."

"Really?" Avery asks softly.

"Really," Steve says, rubbing the space between her shoulders.

A rocket squeals into the air and fractures into a ring of spectral colours.

Avery climbs onto her feet, and, torn between who to hug, wraps an arm around both of your necks.

Steve wraps his arms around you both, squeezing your hip. He's gotten used to being loved, to feeling it, but tonight might be an all time high. Sparklers become a Harrington tradition that year.

592 notes · View notes

eldritch-spouse · 27 days

Note

Shags get obsessed with a girl that works at an art store where he gets his supplies. She's laid back and chit-chats with him about any projects he's working on.

[Okay but what if you had a really strange thing going on?]

You like this little freak.

Yeah, okay, that's a bit of a mean thing to say. But can you be blamed? There's no word that fits him more aptly than freak. Not even in the physical sense, there's a lot of variety in mushroom monsters, you know some of them can be tall and gangly like Shags. He's just bizarre.

The way he speaks, moves, conducts himself. You swear, not a single mannerism this monster makes feels natural or reflexive. Even the way he seems to intensely wait and make himself an obstacle until you initiate conversation with him... God, even the fucking topics of conversation, it's like he makes an effort to speak in riddles.

In this rather boring dead-end of a job, seeing this weirdo bend and squeeze through the doors like Samara about to crawl out of the TV is the highlight of your shift.

That's why he's your favorite client.

He's been standing still in the same supplies isle for too long, you already know what he wants.

" Having trouble finding something, Mr Shags? "

As if, he probably knows this store better than yourself.

In fact, he outright told you he used to be a client before you started working here.

He murmurs a response too quietly to interpret, forcing you to come closer. And, predictably, as soon as you are within grabbing distance (not hard to achieve when you're a lamppost of a monster featuring branch-like arms), a spider hand slithers onto your shoulder. It's cold, he's always a little cold.

You're urged in front of a shelf, his head looming over yours.

" Ahh, I need your honest opinion on something... If you don't mind? "

This is the paints section, a mural of hues that hurt the eyes.

" Sure. "

" What shade of orange do you think I should get? "

You love these questions. Because never once does he elaborate on what he's creating or why he wants you to choose. It's happened many times before. What size of canvas should I get? What pen should I get? What sketch books should I get?

You like the strange autonomy of getting to pick, offering him the same level of context he does to you.

Absolutely none.

" Alloy. " You point.

Shags reaches towards it with little effort, snagging several little containers with his root-like digits. The hand on your shoulders tightens.

" What a choice. Thank you very much, my dear. "

" No problem. "

It takes a bit of shifting before the hand on your skin is lifted.

You stroll back to the cash register with a small smile and occasionally observe the monster in the same way you'd study an animal at the zoo.

It's strange how little he moves sometimes. Initially, you thought it was just so he wouldn't drip ink everywhere, but it seems to be a part of him now. Blending in with all his other vaguely creepy mannerisms. Mr Shags gets all his items at a snail's torturous pace and finally, finally approaches you.

" How are the latest projects going, Mr Shags? " You start while scanning the paints first.

The shroom actually seems to frown for a second. Fingers busy on the balcony. " Not as smoothly as I wished... "

Tap tap tap.

" My latest muse and I, our chemistry, I'm afraid it has no substance. "

" Oh? " Your eyes deviate to his face for a moment.

" Yes... Something tells me it's time to move on. But I do want to honor our time together with one last, preserving piece. "

Tap tap tap.

" Mhm. Sounds good, I hope the next one works out. " Frankly, you're not sure what he's talking about, but you usually never are to begin with.

" Me too. " Then he smiles again, and you get the distinct feeling his stare has turned into a more scrutinizing one.

Far from the first time, it doesn't scare you like it did initially.

It's pretty funny, actually. You started out thinking this guy was some kind of loser looking to harass you, to intentionally make you uncomfortable. Nowadays he's more of an entertaining almost-friend.

Tap tap tap.

" Will that be all, Mr Shags? "

" Shags. "

He's told you to call him just by his name a couple of times. You always ignore it, but he keeps trying anyway.

There's a silent beat.

During your first years of work, the lack of action would have made you antsy enough to break the silence, which is what you know he wants you to do. But now, you have no trouble staring back placidly until he continues the conversation.

Apparently, the shroom enjoys that continuous challenge, because his grin widens slowly.

" You have a peculiar facial definition. " He eventually rasps.

A nothing statement, not quite a compliment, not quite an insult, definitely said to confuse and prompt a question. One you don't give him the satisfaction of hearing.

" Thanks. " The customer service smile has an edge of playful smarm this time.

Tap tap tap.

" ... I would enjoy sketching you sometime. Your facial expressions are intriguing. "

This is essentially his way of asking you out, you presume.

" You've drawn me before. "

He's even given you the pages, pencil depictions of you caught in a selection of moments. Mostly bored to tears and staring at the little universe between the cracks in aged walls.

Shags tuts. " It's quite different when the muse in question is part of the experience. I much prefer it that way. "

You can't help the hint of a snicker that tugs at the corners of your lips as you bag his items to hurry things along. Not that there's anyone else inside right now.

" Mm. And what if we don't have good chemistry? "

The shroom monster hands you his card, not even caring about hearing the total.

" I think we both know that wouldn't be the case. "

Tap tap tap.

It's only a few moments of intentionally creating suspense until you hand him all his new belongings and card.

" See you soon, Mr Shags. "

His grin only twitches for a delightful glimpse of a second before he carefully takes his possessions and leaves.

Playing with fire is fun.

One day, you'll get burned.

#Shags oc #tce rp ask

112 notes · View notes

raya-hunter01 · 4 months

Text

Let It Snow

One Shot

Jey Uso x Black Female OC! (Mila)

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; oral, sex, fluff,

Summary: It's Christmas Eve and Main Event Jey Uso is upset that the trip that he planned for his girlfriend Mila is not off to a good start. Frustrated, Jey goes live on his Instagram complaining about the snow. Now going through a snow storm the couple decide to make the best of it..

Let it snow!

“Yo’…… What is this shit? All mountains…… Yo, this that stuff ya’ll don’t see though,” Jey sighed full of frustration as we were going through a snowstorm warning. “Come on babe, we’re almost there,” I sighed as he ended his IG story.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m just frustrated nothin’ is goin’ right. Our first rental broke down, and I almost missed the show tonight. Now with this rental, they let damn third and second-row seats down to inspect them and now they stuck, looks like we drivin’ a bed,” Jey said as I looked in the backseat.

He had a point, but if he knew what I wanted to do on those seats, I don’t think he would mind.

“Babe, it’s fine at least they were able to get us this SUV at the last minute and they cut the price down,” I said trying to see the good in the situation.

“We could have been stranded in that town until after Christmas, but the rental place came through at least on that part,” I said trying to point out what we should be thankful for.

“Yeah, they did so I’ll give them that, but the hits just keep coming. How does a snowstorm warning come as the snow is falling? We stuck drivin’ like old people make love, slow as snails,” he ranted as I bit back a smirk at his analogy.

“Look just breathe, It’s ok baby. Everything is working out, it’s just takin’ us a little longer than planned to get to the cabin,” I said as he kissed my hand.

“I know I’m trippin’ and I’m sorry. I just wanted something better than this for our first Christmas trip together Mila. It’s been a disaster, nothin’ has gon’ right at all,” Jey said glancing at me as I played with his hair.

“Jey, you can’t help what happened with the rental and you can’t control the weather. I’m just happy we’re here together," I said as he sighed, rubbing his hand over his beard.

“You right, but I still should have just requested the house show off today. We could have been warm in the cabin, and watching the snow fall instead of driving in it,” he said caressing my leg.

“Uh no, you shouldn’t have, the fans loved you tonight. Many people got those tickets as Christmas gifts and you guys made so many little kids dreams come true tonight. Never take that for granted because in an instant it can be gone,” I said as he smiled at me.

“I just love you da hell outta you, you know dat right," he said glancing at me as I blushed.

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I leaned over slowly caressing his chin, gently kissing him on the neck as he groaned in pleasure.

“See you startin’ shit, don’t make me throw yo’ ass in the backseat and have my way wit you,” his deep voice warned as I smirked against his neck before returning to my seat looking innocently at him.

“Then you lookin’ at me like that. I’m serious Mila, you gon’ bring in Christmas full of dick and carpet burns on yo’ ass, keep playin’ he said as I laughed.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, you gon’ have to stand on business you keep talkin’ like that now. I just wanted to tell you, that I love you too,” I said turning up the radio as he smirked keeping his eyes focused on the highway.

Jey’s POV

“Everyone here at the quiet storm would like to thank you all for tuning in on this cold, snowy Christmas Eve. Tis the season to be with the ones you love. So, fellas grab ya ladies and make some beautiful memories,” the DJ said as Let It Snow by Boyz II Men and Brian McKnight began playing. “A’ight ya’ll set the mood,” I said as the slow ballad filled the car.

Let it snow

Let it snow, let it snow

“I know right, it doesn’t even feel like Christmas until I hear this. It’s one of my favorite Christmas songs,” Mila said leaning back in her seat, humming as I smiled at her.

Having an Idea, I looked at my road markers and turned off the highway. “What are you doing?” Mila asked as I backed off the road a little in between two trees turning on the brights making the deserted road covered with beautiful white snow glow.

“You’ll see baby,” I whispered turning up the music before I got out and went around to her side of the car, opening her door.

“Jey, it’s cold as hell and we already ain’t dressed for this type of weather. You got on a hoodie, and I got on this dress,” she stressed as I laughed grabbing her blanket off her lap and helping her out of the car.

Hey, it's another Christmas Holiday

It's a joyous thing let the angels sing.

Cause we're together.

“You heard the DJ, he told me to grab yo’ fine ass and make some memories,” I said leading her to the front of our rental as she smiled shyly at me.

“You are just full of surprises,” she whispered as I twirled her around, wrapping her blanket around us as we swayed to the music. “Gotta keep you on your toes,” I said as she laughed.

“Nah, what you doin' is makin’ me fall even harder for you Mr. Fatu,” Mila whispered running her fingers through my hair. I felt my heart swell as her beautiful eyes held me captive.

“That means I’m on the right track Vaivai,” I whispered as she blushed at my use of my native tongue.

We got a thing here, can't let it slip away

Though outside is rain and sleet

When our bodies meet...

I don't care 'bout the weather

“So, you think I’m beautiful?” Mila asked as the light shone on her beautiful face making her even more stunning than she already was.

The snow seemed to be falling harder and I knew we should get back on the road, but I didn’t care I was in the moment with her and that was all that mattered.

“You my beautiful angel,” I confessed, pulling her closer as she laid her head on against my chest, slowly grazing her fingertips across my chest making my heart race.

Let it snow, let it snow

Outside it's cold but the fire's blazin'

So baby let it snow

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Feeling her shiver against me I wrapped her blanket tighter around us as she looked up at me smiling brightly.

“I would have never dreamed we would be out here dancin’ in the snow, I know you hate it,” Mila said as I gently kissed her.

“It seems to be growin’ on me…Especially since you here wit me,” I said, her hands caressing my face as I fell deeper into the beautiful pool of her brown eyes as she shyly nibbled on her bottom lip.

Mila's POV

Talk about a core memory…. Jey’s strong arms around my waist holding me close as we danced in the snow. I felt safe and loved, something he always promised me I would feel if I just gave him a chance.

I wanna wrap you up, baby

Then you'll see you're the only present I need

There's so much more

Waiting for you in store

“You just keep biting dat lip, you know what that does to me, Mila,” Jey moaned gently caressing my lower lip with his thumb, his words making my pussy quiver.

“Stand on business then ma ave au,” I whispered kissing his thumb, slowly opening my plump lips, swirling my tongue around it as he growled lowly.

From this precious day

I can gladly say

There's no place that I'd rather be

“Mmm, you want me to stand on business and take you? That what you want baby?" Jey asked as I released his thumb. "Yes," I panted breathlessly as he used his thumb to once more caress my lips before finally taking me in a slow sensual kiss.

My knees became weaker by the second as we explored each other’s mouths, desperate to get closer. Three weeks had been too long for us both.

“I been dreamin’ bout you and what I’d do when I saw you again. You ready for me baby?” Jey asked, tortuously moving his kisses to my shoulder, playing with the straps on my dress.

And oh, you are my everything, come a little closer

God must have sent you down from heaven

Let it snow, let it snow

My hands trembling as I gripped his shirt. “Mmm, Yes, I want you so bad,” I moaned into the blistery night air unafraid to say what I wanted and needed.

Jey growled suddenly grasping my thighs, wrapping my legs around his waist, carrying me back to our SUV as I nibbled on his neck.

I don't care 'bout the weather baby

All I need you to do is be with me, baby

Let it snow

As long as you're here with me

Let it snow

“Once again Merry Christmas from the crew here at the Quiet Storm goodnight, everybody,” I heard the DJ faintly say as I feasted on Jey’s neck, his moans urging me to have my way.

Carrying me around to the back of the SUV, Jey opened the liftgate and gently laid me down as I slid back towards the front, avoiding our luggage.

“Shit, the lights. We don’t need anybody stopping thinkin’ we need some help. We ain’t got much time, and you betta be naked when I get back Mila,” his deep sexy voice commanded as he ran back around to the driver’s side.

I quickly discarded my clothes laying on my blanket and using my dress as a pillow.

I felt a blast of heat above me, feeling thankful he turned the heat up. Planting my feet and opening my legs I closed my eyes in anticipation.

Hearing the liftgate close, my breath hitched and my heart began to race as I felt Jey’s hand caressed my legs.

“Fuck, you look so gorgeous like this, waiting for me to take you,” Jey moaned as I trembled feeling him between my thighs lightly running his fingertips across my hips.

“Baby please,” I begged not ashamed in the slightest as his lips lightly brushed across mine.

“Look at me Mila, I want you to watch me… Watch me pleasin’ you baby,” Jey moaned grasping my chin, making me look at him as I trembled against him.

“Jey don’t tease me,” I whimpered against his lips as I felt him smirk. “I wouldn’t dream of it beautiful,” he whispered slowly inching into my welcoming fountain.

“Mmm, Fuck!” I exclaimed as each thrust was better than the last as I felt him growing more and more inside me.

“Yea, you love feelin’ dat dick rock up in dat pussy, don’t you baby?” Jey asked biting back a moan, clawing his back.

“Yes, baby, fuck yes,” I moaned, my back arched in ecstasy exposing my ever-sensitive neck. Growling in appreciation Jey began sucking greedily on my neck as my pleasure continued to climb higher with each powerful thrust.

“That's it, that's what I wanted...Just like dat Mila, you beautiful baby,” he praised as I shivered, his teeth lightly grazing my neck.

I began to move against him as he hissed, stilling my hips.

“Not yet, I don’t want you to cum yet,” he declared sitting back on his knees, one hand grasping my hips, sinking slowly and deeply inside me setting a steady pace as the other lightly grasped my neck.

“Baby…babybabybabyjey. Mmm, you so deep,” I purred as he took me how he wanted.

“Mmhmm and you takin’ it all Mila. Fuck! You such a good girl, I love dat shit,” Jey praised me as my eyes rolled back in pleasure.

“I love it too,” I proclaimed, sitting up wrapping my arms around his neck, and bouncing to meet his thrusts. Claiming his lips in a powerful kiss, our tongues met again with urgency.

"Fuck, Mmhm! Bounce on dat dick and show me how much you missed it", Jey whispered, intertwining our hands givin' me leverage as I bounced with wild abandon, on a mission for us both.

"Mmm, you like that baby," I groaned flicking my tongue against his lips as a low growl escaped them.

“Yes! Fuck yes,” Jey moaned, releasing my hands, lowering me down, and spreading my legs wider. His thrusts never faltered as a strangled moan fell from his lips as he snapped his hips forward, going deeper inside me.

"Jey! Shit!" I gasped, drowning in pleasure as he pleased me. His intense gaze holding me captive.

“Uh huh, I ain’t forgot bout that spot baby, fuck dat pussy getting’ even wetter for me. You close ain’t you?” Jey moaned as our hips pounded against each other.

Yes! I'm so close," I cried, my eyes glazed over in pleasure as I finally gave in and allowed them to close. Biting my bottom lip, I shyly put my hands over my face.

“Look at me, Mila stop hiding from me. If you don’t, I’ll stop,” Jey declared as I forced my eyes open." Jey, please,” I moaned as he began rubbing his thumb and forefinger against my clit sending shockwaves through my body.

“I got you, baby, I promise,” Jey moaned as I began moving against him again as he groaned. “Mmm, I know baby,” I moaned as his fingers swirled around my clit again before he traced my lips with the same two fingers.

“Open up for Daddy baby,” he whispered, slowly slipping his fingers inside my mouth. Groaning, I greedily began sucking on his fingers as he smirked at me.

“You taste good, don’t you? Let Daddy see,” He whispered, with a carnal gaze rendering me speechless as he pulled out abruptly.

Whimpering at the loss of him, Jey threw my legs back, and greedily began sucking my clit between his lips as I squirmed beneath him. “Oh my God Jey!” I cried gripping his hands on my legs as he controlled my body.

“Yea, It’s me, baby, It's been too long since I've tasted you," he moaned curling his two fingers against my g-spot.

“Yes, it has! Eat your pussy, baby,” I praised as he devoured me whole as I used as I began moving against his mouth with a purpose.

“Mmmhm, you taste so good, I been waitin’ on this,” he proclaimed curling his fingers even faster as he flattened his tongue lapping it against my clit his gaze never leaving mine.

“Oh, fuck! Yes, get nasty with that shit, lick it all up baby,” I purred as Jey growled, simultaneously moving his fingers and tongue together even faster in sync.

My body whimpering in need, steadily climbing heights I didn’t even know existed until I had nowhere else to go.

“God, I love you!” I cried reaching my peak, spilling into his awaiting mouth as he drank my essence humming in satisfaction.

“Mmm, I love you too baby,” he moaned caressing my thigh as I fought to catch my breath.

“That was amazing ba- Shit!” I exclaimed as he entered me swiftly towering over me, his lips overpowering mine we tasted each other.

“Yes, it was but I ain’t done wit you yet,” Jey moaned thrusting long and deep inside me as felt my body begin to tingle all over again.

“I want you to cum when I tell you to. Do you hear me?” Jey grunted nibbling on one of my nipples while caressing the other before giving the other the same equal attention as I continued to melt into him.

I knew Jey felt I was close, as he began thrusting harder. "Jeyjeyjeyjey….…. Oh, baby!” I gasped almost chanting, pushing at his lower abdomen. Each thrust was more powerful than the last as he went deeper, rendering me unable to think.

“Move yo’ hand, why you tryin’ to run,” Jey groaned biting his lower lip never stopping his thrusts as I felt myself about to tip over the edge of ecstasy again.

“Stop runnin’ Mila, all this is just for you… Don't be scared, get your nut,” Jey moaned moving my hands as he went deeper.

“Mmm, fuck, I can take it. I can take it all ” I moaned as Jey leaned down, grasping my throat, taking me in a possessive kiss as he continued to take me deeper and deeper.

“I know you can take it all baby. You look so gorgeous takin’ it too,” he groaned against my lips as I writhed beneath him, both of us chasing climax.

“Mmm, right there. I'm bout to cum,” I moaned as he trembled against me as my pussy pulsed, engulfing him tighter.

“Shit! Me too, cum wit me beautiful,” Jey moaned as I fell apart in his arms “I’m cummin’!" I exclaimed as we went over the cliff together slowly falling back to earth as he collapsed in my arms, his head laying on my chest as I played with in his hair.

Totally spent and trying to catch my breath, I looked up at the clock on the radio, damn 12:30 a.m.

“Merry Christmas,” I whispered as Jey gently kissed me. “Merry Christmas baby,” he whispered, sighing against my lips as his phone rang and interrupted our moment.

“Damn it’s Jimmy,” Jey said reaching up front, getting his phone as I started putting my clothes back on.

“What’s up, Uce,” he said putting Jimmy on speaker phone, pulling up his sweats and putting his hoodie back on.

“Aye, where the hell ya’ll at? We just got to our cabin and I didn’t see ya’ll's SUV next door. Ya’ll left before we did, is everything good Jimmy asked as Jey sighed.

“Yea, we good, Uce,” Jey said as he stared at me licking his lips as I blushed, not believing what we had just done.

“I checked your location and you been in the same spot for awhile. Ya’ll didn’t break down, did you?” Jimmy asked as I shook my head.

“Nah, we bout to get back on the road, Uce, we just stopped for awhile the snow was getting to me,” Jey said as I raised a brow at him. “Damn liar,” I whispered as he smirked.

“Uh huh, more like seeing Mila again was getting’ to yo’ ass,” Jimmy snickered as I climbed back into my seat as Jey opened the liftgate and went back around to the driver’s side to get in.

“Bro, chill we on the way, and the snow ain’t too bad now so it shouldn’t take us long,” Jey said starting the SUV as I bundled back up under my blanket.

“A’ight well text me when ya’ll get here, maybe we can all do breakfast a little later on today,” Jimmy said as they exchanged their goodbyes.

“Well let’s gon’ knock this last hour out,” I said as Jey smiled at me.

Yea, let’s do that cause when we get to the cabin….Oouu you in for a long ass week. I doubt we gon’ be goin next door to have breakfast with Jimmy and Trin later on today.. Maybe tomorrow but definitely not today,” he said as I laughed.

“Well I’ll hold you to that,” I said as he kissed my hand. We had another hour to ride in this snow but one thing was for sure…

This Christmas was definitely shaping up to be one to remember.

Taglist:

@reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl

@melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo

@arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites

@empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae @anonandwannakeepitthatway @venusesworld @jeyusosgirl @theninthwonder @mya2real

#jey uso fic #jey uso fanfic #jey uso imagine #jey uso smut #jey uso x fem reader #jey uso x oc #jey uso x reader #main event jey uso #jey uso #jeysuso #wwe fic #wwe fanfiction #wwe smut #wwe x reade #jey uso fanfiction #fanfic

160 notes · View notes

its-time-to-write · 11 months

Note

Hi love! Im obsessed with your writing. They actually make my whole day!!

I was wondering if you could do something with like protective!Jamie? Like maybe they’re out at a club and some guy won’t leave her alone!

Whatever you like? Thank you!

I did it! I didn’t know what gif to put with this. Wasn’t sure I’d finish it this weekend, but I got it done! I have finals next week, which either means I’m going to have a bunch of time or none at all. And again, thank you for being so kind. Many anonymous requests are not. 💚🍊

don’t go yet

Roy only lets Jamie go to the club when Richmond has won, which is why you’re both dressed up tonight.

“You can have two drinks. Not fucking four, not fucking three, two. And if you fucking go over, your girlfriend will fucking tell me,” Roy had said.

Jamie had relayed this to you, more than a tad scandalized, but you just shrugged and said, “Roy’s not wrong.”

So now you’re at the club and Jamie’s had one drink that he’s been making last way too long, but he’s finally downed it and you’ve offered to grab him another one. Dani’s in the middle of some hilarious story about his old team, involving shaving cream, an unsuspecting coach, and… snails? Anyway, Jamie’s deeply invested in whatever it is which is why you’re at the bar waiting for your drinks and he’s sitting down.

You’re contemplating what you want to do to Jamie once you get home, when an unfamiliar body sidles up to the space next to you.

You half-turn away to give him more space, but he just moves closer so you give him a look. The man, oblivious, says, “Hello gorgeous, name’s Max. What’s a sexy little thing like you doing out here all alone?”

Any distaste you had been stifling out of politeness ends. “I’m not alone, I’m here with my boyfriend,” you reply shortly.

Max makes a show of surveying the room. “Don’t see him,” he says, “so I suppose you’re fair game.”

Your drinks appear, and you grab them. “I’ve got to go.”

“Hey now, I’m only trying to be fucking friendly. Your boyfriend doesn’t let you have friends?” He’s now blocking your path back to Jamie. You try to dodge around him, but he won’t let you.

Max does not like that, and he snarls, “Don’t be such a bitch, I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind me having a turn, especially if he lets you out of the house looking like that.”

Your words catch in your throat, and before you can look around for help, there’s a tap on Max’s shoulder.

“Oi mate,” says Jamie, voice calm but eyes simmering with rage, “pretty sure she wants to be left alone.”

Max turns to assess Jamie and you dart past him, behind your boyfriend. “And what’s it to you, shithead?”

Oh god. The last thing Jamie needs is to get into a fight tonight. You know that Nate would love nothing more than to bench Jamie whenever an opportunity presents itself.

“Jamie,” you whisper, “let it go.”

Jamie doesn’t even look at you. “I’m her boyfriend, shithead.”

Max’s eyes betray a hint of surprise, then before you or Jamie can do anything he moves to shove Jamie. Jamie tenses up for a push that never happens, because Isaac has shown up from out of nowhere and has grabbed Max from behind.

“Time to go, bruv,” Isaac says as he and Dani haul Max away.

Jamie fists are still clenched as he turns to you. Despite the anger on his face, his voice is gentle. “You alright, love?”

You nod wordlessly and hand Jamie his drink. He takes both of them and puts them down. Your brain is playing catch-up because everything happened so fast.

“You wanna go?” he asks.

You nod again then shake your head. “No!” you protest, “This is your night out!”

Jamie’s hands are on your waist now, and you’re a little grateful because it’s grounding. You’re still reeling a bit.

“Babe,” he says, “I’m fucking exhausted, and you are too. And don’t fuckin’ lie, it ain’t gonna work. You’ve got little circles under your eyes. Let’s go home.”

You shut your mouth and sigh. That boy. He knows you too well.

On your way out he says, “Can we do face masks? Can feel me face losing its sexy glow.”

You smile and squeeze his hand. Only Jamie can make a shit night into something good.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

405 notes · View notes

sebastianswallows · 11 months

Note

Hello! Could I offer you a prompt? I often see fics about Ominis experiencing sight for the first time, but how about Slytherin!MC being the one afflicted with a temporary blindness, and now having to rely on Ominis for guidance, 'seeing' the world from his perspective? Maybe as a result of some unruly student's potion experiment? Thank you for your time and work!

Hello, nonny!

Thank you so much for an Ominis prompt! I love to write about this sweetest boy. And sorry this took so long, my dear 💚

Oh my though, I guess I don't read fics with him often enough, because I haven't noticed that many where he experiences sight. Not sure how I'd feel about those, because it... takes away from his character, sort of. I don't know.

Anyway! I have a fluffy little fic for you 😘 Hope you enjoy it!

I wrote it that it was all Garreth's fault, because of course.

— PAIRING: Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 3.8k

She cursed Garreth all the way to the Hospital Wing. The classroom was left in deathly silence after the Gryffindoor’s latest experiment had literally exploded in her face. Professor Sharp seemed… worried, but not very shocked. Clearly, things like that had happened before — especially since Garreth had started studying at Hogwarts. For his part, the boy seemed horribly contrite, or so he sounded as he fretted over her. She suspected at least half of his regret was due to the inevitably harsh detention he had to look forward to — perhaps something even worse, if the damage to her eyes proved permanent.

As she made her way through the castle, leaning on Sebastian and Natty — who both insisted to go with her, the sweethearts — she could think of nothing else. She couldn’t see anything. The last thing she had seen was Garreth’s smouldering cauldron where he was pointing out the way a particular piece of snail shell was melting, and then a great big flash of green, then blackness. She had thought for a moment that she’d fainted, but then she realised her eyes were open. By the time they reached the Nurse, her heart was still pounding at such a frantic rate she thought she was going to be sick.

“Well, she’s blind alright,” said Nurse Blainey after performing a few charms.

“What did you think? That I was lying?!”

“I will wring Garreth’s scrawny little nec—”

“Watch your tongue, Mr Sallow.”

“Can you fix it?” asked Natty in the most politely-frustrated voice she’d ever heard.

There followed a long discussion about what had caused it, which required them to bring Professor Sharp there — who, to his shame, hadn’t exactly been aware of what his students were doing — then Garreth — who also wasn’t sure what had happened with his potion, but he could at least list the ingredients he’d used.

All the while, she waited there in silence, hearing voices all around, footsteps echoing close and far, and tense, worried conversations. The Nurse had placed her in one of the beds in the corner while they decided what to do with her. Natty and Sebastian stayed by her side, quarrelling over what potions they could brew to cure her until she had to tell them to shut up.

By the time classes were done for the day, the Nurse had reached the conclusion that Garreth’s failed experiment, while exceedingly dangerous, would not affect her sight for long. Only a few weeks.

“A few weeks?!”

“Yes, two or three. Four if you’re unlucky.” She could hear the woman shrug.

“What am I supposed to do for three weeks? How can I study? How—”

“If I’m not mistaken, you’re not our only blind student. I’m sure Mr Gaunt can be of some help to you during this time.”

She recoiled at hearing it. “I don’t want to be a burden to—”

“Nonsense,” said Sebastian from somewhere behind her. “Ominis would do it happily!”

“I would,” said the boy. A pause followed as everyone else realised he’d entered the room. From the sound of it, he was standing a few feet in front of her.

The Nurse was happy with this arrangement, which meant fewer responsibilities for her. Professor Sharp breathed a sigh of relief, after which he promised to write to her parents and inform them. Sebastian and Natty, meanwhile, were disgustingly supportive, trying all the while to cheer her up. She shunned all of them, and would only go back to the Common Room with Ominis.

“Do you wish to have dinner first?” he asked quietly as they walked out of the Hospital Wing arm in arm.

“I’m not hungry,” she mumbled. “…Wait, are you?”

Ominis chuckled. “Could send Sebastian out to the kitchens to bring us something… He would do it. Careful, stairs.”

They went down step-by-step, and all through the castle, and after what felt like too long they finally made it to the Slytherin Common Room. She knew she was slowing them down, and Ominis didn’t deny it, but he was supportive the whole way — and not in that fretful, exaggerated, compensatory way Sebastian and Natty were, and not in the anxious manner of Garreth…

If Ominis was worried about her condition, he didn’t show it. As cool and calm as the lake, as sturdy as the rock Hogwarts was built on, he was by her side from the first moment.

The first order of business, while Sebastian fetched them a late dinner, was for her to learn the echolocation spell Ominis used to walk around.

“No, don’t hold it pointing down,” he said as he guided her hand. “Straight forward is better.”

“But what if I stumble onto something?”

“The spell will detect it in time.”

“Well I’m not feeling anything yet…”

“Just… try to cast it harder.”

“Cast it harder? You’re terrible at teaching spells. I want Sebastian back.”

“Yes, well, Sebastian can’t cast it,” mumbled Ominis.

“What can’t I cast?” asked the boy as he dashed into the Common Room.

She could already smell ham and cheese and the salty-sweet aroma of cold sausages. Two plates clinked as Sebastian placed them on the table by the fireplace, where she and Ominis were standing.

“My echolocation spell.”

“Ah yes, can’t cast that,” he said, followed by the soft floof of him plopping on the sofa.

They didn’t make much progress on that first night. His wand was far more accustomed to performing it than hers — but the promise of being able to learn it helped her sleep that night, after an hour or so of crying in fear and anger.

Waking up the next day was disorienting. She felt herself wake, she felt her eyes open, but not seeing anything seemed so… unreal. She nearly panicked all over again. Being in the dungeons, there was no sunlight to feel on her skin to let her know whether it was even morning, but then she heard the other girls shuffling around the room.

Imelda led her to the washroom, and later helped her dress — and for once, she didn’t have a snarky thing to say.

“Must be quite a nightmare,” the girl commented in what she perhaps imagined to be a sympathetic tone. “Can’t imagine flying in this state…”

“Yes, well, thanks Imelda, neither can I…”

She was relieved to hear Ominis’ voice again when she came downstairs.

“Over here!”

“How did you know it was me?” she asked, arms stretched in front of her in what she was sure must’ve been comical.

“You have a distinctive magical echo.”

“Do I…?”

“And Sebastian told me.”

“Morning,” the boy grinned from behind his friend.

Still, Ominis must certainly have been good at detecting where she was, because she felt his hand cup hers within seconds.

“How do you do that?” she asked.

“Just followed the sound of your voice,” he smiled.

“It all sounds the same to me…”

“You might think it does now, but eventually you’ll find it’s easy to tell distance by sound… The whole castle has very good acoustics for this sort of thing, in fact.”

“You make it seem so easy,” she smiled, her eyes tearing up at the sheer scope of all she had to learn to just survive the next few weeks.

“I promise you’ll find it easy too,” said Ominis, placing his warm hand on top of hers as she held his arm. “Open fields, now that can be an issue. But inside, here? You’ll get used to it in no time.”

Sebastian followed them for breakfast, but walked at a bit of a distance, letting Ominis explain things. Going to the Great Hall was a bit faster today than going to the dungeons had been the day before. She walked a bit more confidently already…

Breakfast was spent learning more about judging distance by sound.

“Here, now you try,” said Ominis, handing her a jug of pumpkin juice and an empty glass.

He’d just demonstrated how easily she could guess when a cup was close to filling by the sound the liquid made as it was poured — from a deep sound to a high one. She filled it just the right amount.

“That’s very good!”

“Really?” she grinned.

Feeling around the plate with the cutlery was done easily enough, but finding out what each pile of food held relied more on her sense of smell…

“Ah, I… wouldn’t recommend that.”

“What did I just pick up in my spoon?”

“What does it smell like to you?” asked Ominis with a little smile.

“Mashed potatoes…?”

“Well, I just hope you like parsnip porridge.”

And getting food onto her plate presented another difficulty… A few sausages rolled away before she gave up and picked them up with her hands rather than the fork, her knife kept slipping and clanging loudly on the plate whenever she cut into something, and her fingers landed in mustard sauce more than once.

After a little trial and error and a bit more cursing, she finally managed to get something she really liked. She moaned with pleasure, but it was cut short by Sebastian’s giggling.

“Whot?” she asked with her mouth full.

“Nothing,” he said with an obvious smile.

“What did you take?” asked Ominis curiously.

“It’s a seed cake,” she said defensively. “Just a little syrupy, that’s all.”

Sebastian laughed into his fist.

“What?”

“Nothing!” he said again. “Just… always thought you hated spotted dick.”

“Ewww!”

By the time breakfast was over, she was more angry than upset. Ominis considered it an improvement — at least she wasn’t on the verge of crying anymore. He supported her elbow with his hand as they walked out together. When the sounds of students passing by got louder, he felt her clinging to him more.

“Don’t be nervous…”

“Oh,” she said, her hand relaxing, “sorry.”

“It’s not just that,” he chuckled. “I could hear your breathing pick up, and your footsteps too, as if you were stomping on the ground.”

“It’s that obvious?!”

“It is,” he nodded. “For instance, how do you think I feel now?”

She sighed, feeling completely at sea as they walked together to class, in a direction she couldn’t tell, surrounded by noisy students — and Ominis was testing her.

“I don’t know… Calm, I suppose.”

“Why is that?”

“Your voice is low, and your arm is steady, and… and I can hear you smiling when you speak.”

“That’s quite good,” he chuckled.

What Ominis didn’t say was that he also felt worried about her, and worried about how useful he could be in these following weeks, how good of a guide or a teacher… He thought that it was obvious from his clipped tone and his lingering silences, but was glad to be proven wrong.

The first class of the day was, predictably, horrible. They had Charms, and the girl could scarcely follow the instructions on wand movements, had no idea whether the egg she was given had been shrunken and enlarged according to instructions, and was left feeling around for it awkwardly in order to tell where it was.

“How do you even know where to point your wand?” she sighed frustratedly.

“That’s where the echolocation spell will come in useful,” said Ominis from beside her. “It’s not just the direction, but the depth as well, how far something is from you.”

“We have to practice that more,” she grumbled, waving her wand uselessly. “Undercroft, after class.”

They ended up spending every break in their schedule that day in their secret room, with Ominis placing random obstacles in front of her while she tried and tried and… finally succeeded in making her wand cast the spell. It was just before they had to go to dinner.

“I did it!”

“Not bad,” said the boy — and she could hear his voice approaching, could hear his steps resounding in tighter and tighter echoes. “The cast is still pretty weak though…” She could tell he had his hand in front of her wand, judging the strength of the pulse for himself.

“It’s such a strange sensation… I can feel the shape of your hand in mine, through the wand, but it’s…”

“It’s a bit blurred, isn’t it?” he smiled.

“Yes, as if… as if through a fog.”

“Well, I’ve never seen fog,” Ominis chuckled, “but I’ll take your word for it.”

They went to dinner together and this time she walked on her own, holding her own wand in front. She grinned at being able to sense Ominis’ own echolocation spell, like rings on the face of a lake meeting each other.

“Can you feel people’s features with this spell?” she asked quietly as they entered the Great Hall.

“Not particularly… The size of someone, perhaps, but it is not so fine as to tell you what somebody looks like.”

“Can you tell the difference between, for instance, Sebastian and Garreth?”

“Naturally,” he laughed. “Garreth smells of toxic fumes. Sebastian smells of Confringo.”

Although that dinner was still speckled with splashes of sauce and spilt pumpkin juice, each meal got easier as the week progressed. Her echolocation spell, as well, got stronger. She wasn’t exactly confident enough to run through Hogwarts’ halls, but she found it easier to avoid running into people — and not get bumped into either, as her hearing became better at picking up all motions around her.

Attending class was easier too. She soon learned how to take notes on her own, although she wasn’t sure when she’d get the chance to read them. Ominis taught her a neat trick of holding onto the inkwell and use her fingers to precisely dip her quill in it. To tell whether she’d taken enough ink, she could test it on her finger first and see if the tip felt wet.

“You’re sure you don’t want a self-writing quill?” he asked.

“I want it,” she said, but first I want to do this on my own.

Ominis smiled. “And keep track of the parchment too. Find something as a placeholder for where you left off. Don’t want to write on top of what you’ve already written.”

With his guidance, she mastered a fairly simple system of holding onto the parchment with one hand, finger poised on her last line, and then cupping the inkwell with the other before dipping her quill.

What she still had trouble with well into the second week was spellcasting.

“How… just… how?” she hissed, smacking her wand up and down during a particularly troublesome Transfigurations class.

She heard a subtle laugh, and knew that it was Ominis. “Having trouble?”

“How am I expected to transform this damned ferret into a feather duster when the damned thing keeps moving?!”

Ominis had mastered the spell quickly, she thought, as she could hear no more animal squeaks from his side. About half the class had finished, judging by the mix of sounds from satisfied students and ferret trills.

She felt a warmth approach her from the side. Ominis took gentle hold of her wrist.

“Here,” he said, “maintain the location spell, and do the motions of the transfiguration spell from your wrist.”

She tried it a few times, his hand constantly around her wrist.

“Listen to where the animal is too, don’t lose track of him in case he runs away.”

She grit her teeth and frowned, ready to give up, but with Ominis’s help, she finally managed to do it just before the class was done.

“Bloody annoying,” she sighed, dropping her wand to the desk and wiping her sweaty palm on her robes. “Thank you, Ominis,” she mumbled. “Doubt I could’ve done it without you…”

“You could have,” she heard him smile. “Just would’ve taken you longer.”

To help calm her nerves, the boy suggested they go for a walk around the lake.

They walked and walked until the sun set. They could feel it as the air cooled all around them, as the evening grew loud with nightbirds, as the grounds became silent with all the other students gone inside the castle…

It felt strange to walk beside Ominis like that, without a word, without a touch, only the quiet sound of his footsteps in the grass. The water of the lake lapped on the shore beside them in lazy little waves, stirred perhaps by the creatures underneath or the light breeze. It set her senses on fire to feel how different it was to have that large, cold body of water on one side, and the warm shape of Ominis on the other — because she could feel it, could feel every detail. Even the wet earth underfoot and the grass, the dead leaves and dry branches, they all had a scent of their own that filled her mind more than the mere image of them ever could. Although she missed her sight very much, she could not deny that she felt more connected to everything around her in this way…

Her hand reached out and took Ominis’s arm — his right one, where he held his wand. Not even needing to ask, he switched it to the other hand and held her palm in his.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, but from his tone, she could tell he wasn’t worried.

“No,” she said. “Just wanted to feel your hand.”

“Well, there it is,” he chuckled. “Bit clammy… Sorry about that. Always gets that way when I hold my wand too long.”

“Mine too,” she smiled.

Their fingers interlinked as they kept their slow walk around the edge of the Black Lake. A thought kept swirling in her head, and she was torn between giving voice to it or keeping it to herself. She didn’t know if Ominis could tell, but —

“What’s on your mind?”

— of course he could.

“How did you know?”

“I swear I can hear you thinking sometimes. It’s the same with Sebastian.”

She laughed, but said nothing.

“So?” he asked again. “What is it?”

Her hand tightened slightly around his. “I was wondering if you might seem to the touch the same way you look. The face, I mean, and all that…”

“Ah,” he said, his tone teetering somewhere between amused and nervous, “you want to try to… ‘see me’ with your hands?”

“Could I?” she asked, her face turning slightly toward him as if she could better detect how he was reacting to all of this.

“Only if I could do the same,” said Ominis with a tight smile.

They reached as far around the lake as the grounds permitted and sat together on one large, smooth rock. Beneath them, they could hear the lapping of the water, quiet and gentle, and owls hooting far off in the woods. It felt almost as if she were floating on air, cross-legged, far from the ground, with nothing surrounding her but the cool night.

They tucked their wands in their pockets and fiddled their thumbs, both too timid to start.

“Well, you asked,” said Ominis after a prolonged nibbling of his lips, “so you go first.”

“Alright,” she sighed, her mouth pulled up into a nervous smile.

She stretched her hands before her gently and was almost startled when they reached his chest. His school uniform was much like hers, a little rough, but well tended to. Moving upwards, she reached his neck, and quickly skipped it until she felt the smooth line of his jaw with both her hands. For no reason at all, her eyes closed. Perhaps it felt more peaceful that way…

His chin was delicate and pointed, leading up in soft angles to his ears. Moving inward, her thumbs traced his high cheekbones, his temples, his arched brows, then dipped delicately over his eyes — his were closed as well. She smiled as she tickled the surface of her fingers with his long lashes.

“Well?” asked Ominis. “Is there a resemblance?”

“I think so,” she smiled. “You look the way you feel.”

“Oddly poetic of you,” he chuckled.

Her hands slid slowly down his face, framing his slightly long nose, falling then to his lips, soft and full. She gasped at feeling them, noting things she never realised before: how delicate they were, how defined, and slightly dry… She traced down to his chin again when she felt them part.

“Yes, I suppose that’s you,” she joked. Her giggles filled the tense air around them. She could feel him smile against her fingertips.

“My turn now,” said Ominis.

She squeezed her hands in her lap as she waited, and then the boy surprised her by cupping her face and slowly bringing them together, covering her like a mask.

He felt her from chin to forehead, taking in the full plains of her features, before he began to touch them each in part. He brushed her eyebrows upward, traced the shape of her eyes, ran his finger delicately down her nose to the tip, and brushed his thumb against her lips while his other hand caressed a broad path from her forehead to her jaw. She felt very thoroughly known after this…

They walked back to the castle in silence, hand-in-hand. As they did, she noticed in herself a feeling of… peace, of not caring anymore that she couldn’t see. She missed the colours of everything around, of course, the beams of light, the peaceful glow of the Slytherin dorms, the star-filled sky at night, but she didn’t feel like she lacked anything anymore.

That made it all the more shocking when, three and a half weeks into her blindness, she began to see vague shapes of light. Ominis’ thin face bloomed into a smile when she told him. She could see it in spite of the cloudiness of her vision.

She still used the echolocation spell to get around, and breakfast became easier, but the blending of shapes and colours so overwhelmed her senses that often she would close her eyes when she wished to concentrate.

It was probably for the best, as she fell behind on her coursework and had never gotten to practice reading Braille with Ominis. Her notes, she now could tell, were atrocious, and her fingers were horribly stained even now.

As the days passed, her vision gradually improved, and by the end of the fourth week, she was almost back to normal. Her eyes teared, unused to all the details.

“Come now, no need to cry over it,” said Ominis with an awkward laugh. They were returning from another visit to the Hospital Wing, where the Nurse had checked her progress.

“I’m not crying,” she sniffled. “How could you tell, anyway?”

“You mean aside from your voice being all choked up and your breathing irregular? Just a lucky guess.”

“I’m just feeling… too much, I think.”

Ominis took her hand in his. “I know,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll miss it too.”

And she didn’t need to ask what he meant.

#sswallow;answers #Ominis Gaunt #Ominis Gaunt fanfiction #Ominis Gaunt imagine #Ominis Gaunt x Reader #Ominis Gaunt x MC #hl #sswallow;made a thing #sswallow;fanfics

692 notes · View notes

thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 5 months

Text

(and if nothing brings you back) Surely, I'll roam through life in black

Mihawk x reader. NSFW!!

Title is an excerpt from Blind and Frozen by Beast in Black (again). Sequel to Built a haven for your love (until I let you fall apart). There will now be a separate epilogue to this story!

Note - 13/11/2023: I have edited Built a haven to delete a brief reference to Kain, the reader's past lover, in order to focus on other, more important characters.

*****

Dracule Mihawk is a patient man.

It is a natural quality, and at the same time that self-restraint is one of the reasons he has come as far as he has. After all, you don't become the best at what you do if you get bored easily, or frustrated after a visible lack of progress after a few short weeks; while natural talent did undoubtedly play a role in making him the man he is, Mihawk knows it is the long hours he spent practicising his swordsmanship (every single day since he was five, hundreds and even thousands of repetitions of the same figure, of the same lunge or the same parry, until he could perform them in his sleep and through simple muscle memory) that has made him the most respected and feared adversary in the four seas. He has always known in his heart the way of the sword was his destiny, no matter how hard and long the way to the top would be, and that path he has walked, patient and persevering, confident that one day his efforts and dedication would bear fruit - which they have. Even so, he still practices, every day, with the same focus and tenacity of when he was ten, still until his arms hurt and his fingers bleed, and then a little more.

Dracule Mihawk is a very patient man, not least because there is very little nowadays that can actually excite his curiosity to the point of anxiety; no rival in the last decade has seriously interested him, no swordsman he has heard about or met has made him feel excited at the prospect of a fight (or rather, one has; but a full year after their first and only meeting, Roronoa Zoro still has a long way to go before becoming a worthy opponent. But that is not a problem; once more, he is patient, he can wait.) and no future plan or commitment has ever made him wish time would pass faster. He is not bored, per se; he is just perfectly content with the way he spends his days, without worrying about what the future may bring...

... except for a single, tiny (no more than fourteen pounds by now, according to a book he has accidentally found in his library and even more fortuitously leafed through until he has found the chapter about infant growth) detail... one that has kept him awake at night for the first time in his life, and that not even training until his body gave up and his mind begged for the relief of sleep has been able to banish from his thoughts.

You. Or, to be more precise, the consequences of the night you have spent together. Or, to be even more precise, the reason why you haven't made him aware of them like you had agreed to do.

That... your silence, and the suspicion you are not deliberately keeping him in the dark (why should you? You have promised to inform him as soon as you had seen your doctor, you have his transponder snail number, you know how important it is to him) but something is keeping you from calling... that is what is making him loose his sleep.

To be honest, he started feeling anxious (a feeling he has at first almost struggled to recognize, so alien it was to his personality) just a few days after you had said goodbye, a feeling that became harder and harder to ignore, and then to keep at bay, as the weeks succeded one another. At first, he wasn't worried - just irritated. Even the most ignorant man in matters of childbearing knows it could take a while, perhaps even a whole month, before a person has reason to suspect they are expecting, and a late period could be due to several reasons other than pregnancy. Also, according to the book, it is not uncommon for pregnancies to end in the first three months, for reasons not even the best doctors fully understand; perhaps, he reflected as he polished Yoru at the end of yet another day-long training session, you have decided to wait until you are reasonably sure your pregnancy is real and healthy enough to reach full term, before informing him. Given how important this is to you, how desperately you wanted to get pregnant and have a baby, you may have ordered yourself not to believe it yourself until then, as if you knew you couldn't bear to lose the child you had waited for so long...

He was sure - no, he had been ready to bet his life that you would call after three months, to tell him you were officially, undeniably pregnant with his child. You are not the sort of person who forgets a promise they made, and while he has not yet decided what role he would play in the child's life, if any, you knew (you had to know!) it was important for him to be aware of the truth. He expected to receive your call any day, and he was determined not to miss it, so much that for the first time in his life he started bringing his transponder snail to the training room, or wherever he had decided to practice in that day, to make sure he heard it ringing.

It didn't. Or rather, when it did, it was never the call he expected. It was never you, and while three months became four, and then five, and then six, Mihawk started feeling restless, and frustrated, and then worried. Why aren't you calling?, he kept wondering. The thought, that was rapidly becoming an obsession, was constantly on his mind (when he trained; when he ate; when he showered; when he fought, either yet another quarry the Marines had sicced him on, or some fame-hungry swordsman who thought they could measure themselves against him and invariably discovered they could not; when he tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep) and threatened to drive him mad.

Six months after your night together, he had to stop lying to himself and seriously consider the hypothesis that you hadn't simply failed to contact him, whether because you had forgotten (absolutely impossible) or deliberately, but something was preventing you from doing it. Also, the two of you had never gone so long without meeting, and your few mutual acquaintances had not seen you recently either; you might have taken some time off from, or indeed put an end to, your activity as a mercenary when you realized you were pregnant, but that would not explain the lack of contact. Were you sick? Was the baby making you sick, and so weak you could not even hold a transponder snail receiver and speak in it? It seemed absurd: you were a still young, healthy woman, and even the most difficult pregnancy could not put a person into a coma! What could have been happened, then?

Has something terrible happened to you? It was, unfortunately, much less improbable than he would have wished; after all being a mercenary had to be one of the most unsafe, potentially fatal professions in the world, and your latest quarry might have turned out to be more challenging than you had expected, or maybe someone set to avenge one of your past victims had been able to sneak up on you and...?

He wanted to know. He had to - no, he needed to know, he reflected one night, the umpteenth in which he had found himself unable to sleep, as he looked at the starry sky out of his bedroom window, because while very little in the world had the power to upset or even just to actually interest him, he felt not knowing what had happened to you, and if you were safe and sound, could really drive him insane. You were strong, clever and resilient, but no one could keep their guard constantly up day and night, and so many dangerous things existed in the world; if you were hurt, and kept somewhere against your will unable to ask for help, he would move heaven and earth to find and set you free. And if it were already too late, if you had... died, either at the hands of an enemy or for some other reason...

In that case I really don't know what will become of me, he thought, then and so many times in the following months. He would have gladly stabbed himself in the heart rather than uttering those words out loud, or having someone else know he felt that way, but that was the truth and Mihawk was not in the habit of lying to himself.

The thing that vexed him the most was the inability to contact, and then to look for, you himself. He had not thought about asking for your own transponder snail number (something he had reproached himself for many times) and he even ignored the name of your island, which would have been the first place to search in. Worry and frustration prompted him to do what he never thought he would: call the Marines and ask... for informations.

"(name)? I haven't seen her in a while." Vice-Admiral Garp said, his tone pensive, on the day Mihawk contacted him "I was informed the man I had sent her to dispatch is dead, but she never came to collect the bounty, nor has she called or written to ask us to send it to her. I'm starting to think something bad has happened."

"Have you tried contacting her?"

"Of course we have. But her transponder snail has been deactivated since the first time we called, I don't know where she lives nor whether she has friends or family. Why do you care what happened to her?"

The sudden question, asked in a deliberately casual tone, took him by surprise for a moment. This doesn't concern you, Mihawk wanted to answer, but he stopped himself in time. He didn't particularly like Garp, but the older man was clever and relentless, not to mention he considered those like the two of you, pardoned pirates and mercenaries, like a necessary evil to keep in check; he would not go as far as to hurt a pregnant woman, and was probably already aware of your acquaintance given all the times you and him had sat down to drink and talk at the Marine HQ, but the least he knew, the better.

"(name) had promised to help me find a person I am interested in." he invented, confident a mere business deal would not interest the Marine much "A famous swordmaker she had been acquainted with years ago. She had promised she would track him down for me after her latest assignment, but I have not heard from her in a months."

"Had she now."

"What do you mean, Vice-Admiral?" Mihawk asked, suddenly irked; he didn't like the skeptic, vaguely mocking, tone the older man had used.

"Nothing, nothing. I'm afraid I can't help you, Mihawk; If you see her, tell her we'll keep the bounty for her."

As if he were the Marines' messenger boy. Mihawk disconnected without answering, sighed, and covered his eyes with his hand. It was as he feared: the call had been useless; you had disappeared, and he had no way to find you.

*****

And he still doesn't, six more months later, as he sits on the front steps of his house, a glass of red wine in his hand and his gaze facing the sunset, the familiar but still breath-taking view of the sky lit of red and black for once failing to catch his interest.

A year. A whole year spent thinking about you, worrying about you - and without you. He has sent word to his (very few) allies, acquaintances and whoever he could trust or owed him a favour, asking them to be on the look-out and inform him of any news, no matter how apparently far-fetched, about you.

It was all for nothing. You must have given birth by now, your baby should be around three months of age (has he ever seen a baby that small? Probably not since he was a very young boy himself, and he is sure he has never held one in his arms; well, he’s sure you’ll show him how…) but there is no trace of either of you. You seem to have disappeared into thin air, and Mihawk has never been so worried in his entire life. The possibility you are safe, having decided to hide and fake your death, doesn't even cross his mind; you had a deal, one he knows in his heart you would never break, both because you would have no reason to and because you would never do that to him (you wouldn't. It may sound presumptuous to think so, to believe he has some kind of influence over you, and he cannot claim to know what is in your mind... let alone in your heart... but you would keep you word, he would bet his life on it) which must mean that something is keeping you from contacting him, someone has hurt you, either keeping you prisoner somewhere, which would at least explain why you have disappeared, or worse...

You could have been killed. You could be dead, and the thought is so fiercely painful, the agony it fills his very being with so scorching and bitter, Mihawk wishes he could tear his heart from his chest, because if that were actually true nothing else, nor vengeance nor the passing of time, and surely not another lover, could ever give him the smallest amount of relief. So many people die every day, in some cases alone and unmourned, but the same cannot have happened to you, you are too... too smart and capable to have let an enemy overcome you, and too special and precious to have lived through something so terrible and humiliating...

And the baby? Your baby? What has happened to them?

Accepting to conceive a child together has been an impulsive decision, taken after just a few hours of reflection, but Mihawk does not regret it... and not simply because it has led him to the best night of his life. The thought of a child, of any child, hurt and killed would naturally horrify him, but to imaginehis own baby, his son or daughter, in danger or hurt... is it possible for a man to bear such an overwhelming grief?

He never thought he could feel like this; he never thought he would meet someone capable of arousing that sort of feeling in him, but he has, you have, and while Mihawk doesn't regret it, and knows he won't even if he does discover you have passed, the thought of losing you and your child before even having the chance to meet them... and to say goodbye to you, and... to talk to you once more, is... is...

He doesn't pray. He never has, and he knows in his heart it would make no difference, nor would he be able to find some comfort in it. Mihawk doesn’t believe in God, not in the benevolent, all-powerful kind so many people trust to make their lives a little more bearable or at least to reward them for their good deeds in the afterlife. What, who, he believes in, is himself, and this is why, after he woke up screaming from an horrible, excruciating nightmare (in which he opened the house door to find your reanimated corpse in front of him, a tiny dead body in your arms, telling him you were sorry you made him worry) he promises himself that if he ever finds you, you or the baby or hopefully both, he will never leave you again, and will give his life to protect you.

I swear, (name). I know you didn’t break your promise voluntarily; let me keep mine. Please, come back to me; I trust you. I can’t go on like this; not knowing is destroying me. Let me know you are both all right, and I swear I won’t let anything happen to you…

Are his feelings (fear, the instinctive protectiveness towards a child who is the blood of his blood, the memory of the night of passion you shared) getting the best of him, leading him to make a much deeper commitment than he would have been willing to had you, safe and sound, phoned him after a month to announce him you were in the family way? Perhaps. After all he does have a heart, but while he doesn’t intend to ask for your hand as soon as you meet again, he knows that whatever destiny has in store for the two of you, he will never regret his promise or the choice he made a year ago.

He never could, if you keep being part of his life. So he vows, in the privacy of his heart, and barely one day later he receives an answer; by God, by destiny, or someone else, he doesn’t care, but he has to quickly put an hand to his mouth to prevent Garp from hearing his sigh of relief.

“(name) has just called me.” The Vice-Admiral says; he sounds amused, as if his conversation with you had confirmed his suspicions about the reason why Mihawk was so worried about your disappearance. Lookin for a famous swordmaker indeed! “She has lost your number, but she was able to retrieve mine through an acquaintance who works close to another Marine base and asked me to convey a message.”

Silence.

“Mihawk?”

“I am here, Vice-Admiral.” he answers, in control of his emotions once more, even though he is clutching the transponder snail receiver so hard his knuckles have turned white “What is the message?”

“Simply her number, that she has asked me to give you. Do you have a pen?”

Mihawk does, but he needs to hear the number just once to know he will remember it forever. You are all right, he keeps repeating himself, alive and if perhaps not unharmed strong enough to carry out a conversation. Relief hits him, so sudden and overwhelming it almost hurts; did she tell you where she’s been in the last year? Is she all right?, for a moment he is about to ask, before thinking better of it; he will call you as soon as he finishes with Garp, who in any case he wouldn’t confide his fears in.

“I’ll tell her about the bounty she is owed. Good evening, Vice-Admiral.” he says, before hanging up and without giving the older man a chance to reply. He is alone, as always when he is at home, and Mihawk has never been so grateful for that lack of guests or, Gods forbid, house mates, because the last thing he wants is to have someone see him in that moment.

You’re alive. That is not enough to dispel all his fears, since as far as he knows you could be deadly ill or kept prisoner somewhere, and, most importantly, he still knows nothing about your baby, but suddenly he feels able to breathe normally for the first time in ages - in a whole year, that is. I knew you hadn’t forgotten your promise; that you hadn’t forgotten about me, he thinks, still worried but feeling a smile (a real, sincere smile, something no one in the world has ever seen on his face) open on his mouth. He remains still for a moment, the memory of your kiss and the sensation of your warm, solid body in his arms still etched in his mind, and a moment later he is already dialing the number Garp gave him.

You answer immediately; as if you were waiting for him to call. (You were. Desperately, fear and longing heavy on your heart; you needed to hear his voice like a person lost in a desert needed a glass of cold water, but at the same time you knew what you needed to tell him would destroy him, like it had destroyed you.)

“Mihawk?”

“This is him.” he promptly answers; until now you have always spoken in person and it has been a year since the last time, but he would recognize you voice anywhere “(name), are you all right?”

Silence.

“Name? Please…” he insists; that last word sounds almost alien on his tongue, but he can hear the call didn't fall, and the idea of you not wanting to talk to him is too painful to bear “Are you all right? Where are you?”

“I…”

“Is our baby all right?”

He can feel you hesitating for a moment more before slowly answering: “You needn’t worry; no one has been seriously hurt.”, which sounds too and unnecessarily complex when a simple we are both all right would have sufficed, but the determination in your voice is enough to reassure him “I’m sorry, I know I had promised to call you as soon as I had been to the doctor. I swear I would have, but…”

“Have you been kidnapped?”

“How do you know? Well, you’re right; I have been kept prisoner for a year, and my transponder snail was taken from me. I got free four days ago and I got home the day before yesterday. Mihawk, I…”

“Yes?”

Silence. Again. “I think it would be better if we spoke in person.” you state in the end “I’m sorry to ask you, but my doctor says I shouldn’t move for a few days a least, and my mother is of the same mind...”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Mihawk quickly answers, perfectly aware he doesn’t even know where there is, and utterly unbothered by the issue.

“Really?”

“Of course. Give me the coordinates.”

You do, from memory, and he writes them down, just to be safe; he shouldn’t take more than a day to reach you, he is pleased to realize. “I will be there tomorrow morning at the latest.” he promises; most people would think twice before sailing at night in unknown waters, but he is not most people “How do I find you?”

“I’ll send someone to wait for you at the harbour. Mihawk?”

“Yes?”

“Were you worried for me?”

He snorts - inelegant, perhaps, but since you cannot see him…

“What do you think?” he pointedly asks, and he’s happy to hear you laugh, just for a moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, (name).” he promises, and then he is the one hesitating just for a moment, before adding: “I can’t wait to meet our child.”

You say your goodbyes and hung up, quickly enough he can’t hear you burst in tears.

*****

He is sailing less than thirty minutes later, pleased to discover a favourable wind is pushing his ship in the right direction, and exactly twenty-two hours later his ship docks at the only little port of your island, in a warm, sunny morning he would consider a good sign, were he inclined to believe in that sort of things (he never has). The moment he steps on the harbour, mainly occupied by tiny fishing boats, a trio of men in livery approach him.

“Welcome to our island, sir.” the oldest respectfully tells him as they all bow in unison; he doesn’t ask for his name, Mihawk notices, nor does he mention it to make sure he’s addressing the right man “Lady (name) has sent us to meet you. Will you please follow us to the fortress?”

He does, and the brief ride in the small but elegant horse-drawn carriage gives him the opportunity to explore the place you call home. You had told him it was small, and it really is, little more than a rock in a relatively unimportant corner of the sea, but patriotism aside, he can see why you like it: the streets are large, the building well-kept, the marketplace the carriage passes next to thriving, and the flora seems to be as lush as you said it was, given the huge trees he sees in the squares and along the streets.

Still, sight-seeing is not what he has come here for, and when finally the fortress (a solid, relatively large stone building, wind-tossed flags at the top of the four corner towers and a drawbridge over a deep moat) appears in front of him, Mihawl feels his heart skip a beat, both looking forward to seeing you and at the same time fearing the state he will see you in. Such sentimentality, such an inability to put order among his feelings, is very unlike him, as well as the sort of things he has always done his best to avoid and considered an unnecessary distraction. Still, he doesn't regret those feelings; you are part of him now, an unexpected but not unwelcome state of things, and while openly discussing matters of the heart has never been easy for him, and he doesn't yet feel ready to give a name to the emotions you have elicited in him, he wants you to know, he needs you to know, he has never stopped thinking about you from the day you said goodbye...

About you, and about the child you have given him. The child, about three months old now, who he is going to meet in a few minutes.

Crossed the large double door of the fortress, the older man in livery exchanges a few words with another servant. "Lady (name) is in her quarters." he then reports "I'll bring you to her straight away, sir, unless you want to rest for a while. A room has been prepared for you."

Mihawk is not tired, but had he not slept for a week, his answer would be the same. "Bring me to her."

You like admiring the sunrise in the morning, as you prepare to begin your day, hence your quarters are east-facing. Mihawk is led to a small parlor, which might double as your study given the desk and the full bookcase on one side. A closed passage leads presumably to your bedroom, while an open double door gives way to a sun-lit terrace, where a quiet but serious conversation is taking place.

"... need to tell him. You owe him the truth, especially if you hope for your relationship to continue."

"I know that, mother. I don't want to lie to him, but... he told me he looked forward to meeting the baby... I can barely bear to think about what the doctor said, but to discuss it..."

"I know how painful it will be; for both of you. But you still have a whole life in front of you, and you need to come to terms with..."

The conversation quickly ceases when the man in livery steps on the terrace. "Pardon, my ladies. Your guest is here, lady (name)."

The terrace is a mostly empty semicircle bordered by a wrought iron parapet, the breath-taking view opening on the whole island; Mihawk doesn't even glance at it, his yellow eyes immediately drawn to the younger of the two women sat not far from him, semi-reclining on a deck-chair under a large straw umbrella, a pillow behind her back hiding a tiny but deadly machine gun.

You.

The first thing he notices is the weight you have lost. He has tried many times to imagine how your body would change because of your pregnancy, what you would look like heavy with his child; he was sure he would find you beautiful as ever, perhaps even more so. He even entertained himself wondering how it would have been to make love to you as you were visibly pregnant... and discovered the thought was not at all unpleasant.

The you in front of him couldn't be farther from those fantasies. No doubt because of the year you spent imprisoned, you are clearly underweight, your left leg, left naked by the short skirt of your dress, is braced and bandaged, a profound, overcome but persistent weakness surrounding you, as if the excellent care you are receiving at home still couldn't undo the ill treatment you have suffered.

A strong-willed, resilient woman like you would not be cowed by a slap or a skipped meal. What sort of violence and abuse did your captors have to resort to in order to break your spirit? Have you been beaten? Starved? Exposed to the weather in the coldest days of the winter? Have they... assaulted you? Whatever the truth, Mihawk suddenly wishes he could have them in front of him; after a single hour, those bastards would beg him to die quickly.

Then you smile at him, happy and relieved, and the desire for revenge is promptly forgotten - or at least put aside. "Hello, (name)."

"You came."

"You know I would have."

You share a look, brief but enough to make him feel as if the last year had been no longer than a day; he can see unmitigated joy in your eyes, and relief, and... wariness, almost as if you feared what could be said during the conversation he has come to have. Are you... afraid of him? Why? What do you have to tell him that could upset him to the point of...?

He notices, a whole minute later than he should have, that the baby is not with you, nor there is on the terrace a cot or a little bed you could have put them in. He is about to ask, when the woman sat on the chair next to you, at the other side of a small round table, stands and turns to look at him. He doesn't need to consider the evident family resemblance, nor to think back to what you have told him about your family, to realize she must be your mother: you have the same look, the same kind but piercing gaze in your like-colored eyes. "Good morning. I am lady Veressa, (name)'s mother. It is a pleasure to have you on our island."

"Thank you, my lady." Mihawk answers with a slight bow of his head; he is able to behave courteously with people of authority, whatever Garp may think "The pleasure is mine."

"(name), I will leave you with your guest. Please, do not overexert yourself."

"I won't, mother. Thank you." you answer, and smile when she bends to kiss your brow. A moment later the lady of the island has left, the man in livery behind her, leaving the two of you alone.

Neither speaks as Mihawk moves the free chair even closer to yours and sits; there are about a million questions he wants to ask, but for a minute he is content like this, simply looking at you, reassuring himself you are really there, clearly exhausted but alive, healing, and still beautiful enough to take his breath away.

"You have a ten million berries bounty to collect." he points out after a while; you, apparently expecting to hear something completely different, blink, and appear to struggle a little to understand the meaning behind those words, as if your activity as a mercenary were a long-forgotten childhood game and not the trade you have practiced since you were still a girl.

"Oh... right. I will have to call Garp again one of these days."

You smile, still nervous but happy; your hand reaches towards him, and he takes it in his, careful, as if it were made of glass.

"I have missed you, Mihawk."

"And I you." he promptly answers; he wonders if you realize how rare, and surprisingly easy, it is for him to utter those simple words. Something tells him you do "Are you well?"

"Considering everything I have been through, I think so." you answer after a moment of reflection; there is no trace of complaint in your voice, rather it is the matter of fact tone of a person who dispassionately acknowledges a situation and moves on "The doctors said I have been lucky, a few more weeks under the loving care of my jailers and I would have died. And my leg should heal perfectly, which is the thing I was most worried about."

"That is good to hear. (name)..."

"You want to know about the baby." you interrupt him, and there is something on your face he cannot name, but that makes him shiver; as if you were preparing yourself for an unpleasant chore you could not avoid. You told him no one got seriously hurt, which only partially reassured him, and he knows he won't be able to relax until he sees his child with his own eyes... "Am I right?"

"Yes. Where are they?"

*****

This is a conversation you can't avoid; your mother is right, you owe him that much and more, especially if he is to still be part of your life from now on, which you desperately wish for. Still, you would give half of your blood (not a small sacrifice, considering how much of it you have wasted in the last year) to avoid or at least to postpone it, and enjoy the quiet, comforting joy of having Mihawk close once more, after fearing for so long you would never see him again.

You breathe in and, holding tight as if preparing for a violent impact, you confess: "There is no baby. I... I had my period a week after our night together, and regularly after that, at least for a while."

You have time to count up to ten before you hear him answering; you can't look at him, and perceive he'd rather you didn't.

"I see."

"I am so sorry, Mihawk. It was my most fertile period, and we tried three times... I was so sure..."

This time he is the one interrupting you. "I know. It is not your fault." he murmurs; you can feel the emotion in his voice, without a doubt much more than he wishes you to, and that makes you feel guilty, as if you were intruding in an intimate moment "I... I guess this is good, after all. You have clearly been hurt, and taken prisoner. That is not the sort of situation you'd want to be pregnant, and to have a child, in."

You can't help but agree, and you swallow, hoping against hope you can stop talking about it and the two of you can enjoy some time together before he leaves and you can go back mourning what will never be in the privacy of your heart, but Mihawk's next words hit you like a punch in the stomach.

"Maybe... maybe we can try again." he slowly suggests; he has started caressing the back of your and with his thumb, and the intimate tone of his voice, a still serious but unmistakably sensual accent in it, is enough to make you shiver, and cry "Once you have returned to health. Our night together was... very enjoyable, I wouldn't mind doing it again, and I must confess the idea of a child has grown on me..."

You will not cry. Not in front of him, not now. Don't you dare, (name).

"I can't." you murmur miserably; you feel as if you were confessing a terrible crime, something to be ashamed of, which couldn't be farther from the truth, and this makes you angry "I... after I came back, my mother insisted the doctors carried out a complete medical examination, to make sure we knew exactly what was wrong with me health-wise; we thought it was important to leave nothing untreated. My period had stopped after a few months, no doubt because I was given very little to eat, so my women's doctor visited me, and discovered... she found out that I..."

That I can't have children, and never will. Your voice breaks before you can utter those words, but Mihawk seems to perceive them all the same, and the flash of shock and pain in his lovely yellow eyes, brief but too sudden and fierce to hide it behind his usual sangfroid, makes you feel the worst, cruelest woman of the four seas. "Mihawk, I am so sorry... I swear I didn't know..."

"I believe you. I... I am the one who is sorry, (name). I know how important it was to you."

It was, and it still is; otherwise part of you wouldn't wish you had died in the cell you had been put in. "I know, but... you just told me you had started liking the idea of being a father. Well, I'm sure there are thousand of women who..."

"No. There aren't." he curtly stops you, as if to make it clear that he considers the matter closed. The intention behind those words, that he cannot imagine, that he doesn't want, a woman who is not you as the mother of his child, should make you feel happy, and flattered, and it does, even though that is just the light of a single candle in the unending darkness of your pain.

A still bitter but peaceful silence falls on you, your hand still enclosed in Mihawk's; even now, despite the excruciating pain making you feel as if a beast were eating you from the inside, you feel comfort, and peace, in having him close.

"What will you do now?" he asks after a while, and you shrug.

"My closest relative until two years ago was a distant cousin I didn't particularly like; he died, but he has left a son, and my mother and I agreed the best thing to do would be to name him my heir. He is only six, so it is too early to know whether he is a good fit for the role, but I will ask his mother to let the boy come live with us, and we can prepare him to rule after my death. He is technically of my blood so the succession should not be contested... but honestly I don't care much at the moment. The good of this island and its people has been my first and foremost interest since I was a girl, but now... now I would wish for everything to disappear. That I could disappear."

He has never seen that part of you, dejected and fragile and hopeless like a baby in the snow, and normally you would be embarrassed to have someone you respect and whose opinion you value witness those moments, but you know Mihawk has a heart, even though few people can say they have seen it, and you trust he will not judge you.

He doesn't.

"The people who hurt you." he mentions after a while "Are they alive?"

"The man who kidnapped me is dead, as well as a few of his henchmen I had to kill when they tried to stop me from escaping. Why?" you ask, confused, but a moment later you look at him, and a tiny smile blossoms on your lips "You want to go avenge me?"

"It is what you deserve."

"You don't even know why they did it. For all you know they could have had a good reason to try and hurt me."

"I'm sure they didn't."

"It was partially my fault actually. Every mercenary knows they should guard against friends and families of their victims, and I am usually careful, but that day I had lowered my guard." you admit, still ashamed of that rookie mistake "I was returning to the Marine HQ with the head of my latest quarry, and I fell in the trap this man had set for me; I had killed his brother years ago and he wanted revenge. I thought he would have killed me, but instead he wanted to prolong my suffering. He kept me in a cell so low I couldn't even stand, he starved me, beat me, left me outside and it was so cold I thought pneumonia would kill me... he took my derringer, my favourite gun, from me and smashed it under a rock, and I swear, that was the..."

And then he kisses you. To stop you from blabbering, perhaps, or because hearing what you have gone through has made him lose control with both rage and relief; you'll never know, and in the end you don't care. He has bent over you, covering the short distance between your chairs, his hand delicately cupping your face and his lips... his cool, soft lips, both gentle and hungry, are pressed against yours, and that is enough to light the fuse, to make your heart skip several beats and moan with pleasure, the memories of your night together instantly filling your mind.

You part your lips, suddenly so hungry for him you don't even care someone could enter and see you, but before you can deepen the kiss Mihawk breaks it, gently but firmly moving away and forcing you to let the hand you had placed on the back of his head fall.

"I am sorry." he says, with the least apologetic tone the world has ever heard "I shouldn't have."

"Yes, you should have. Do you really think you need to apologise?"

"You are very weak, and hurt. The last thing you need is to exert yourself."

"Is that your medical opinion?" you promptly retort; you still feel dead inside, like you have since you learnt you are destined to remain childless, but you want him so much you can barely breathe, and that makes you bold "I will not die if you kiss me, Mihawk; nor if we sleep together once more, which I would really like."

"(Name)..." he says with a sigh, and for a moment you almost hate him; he looks, and sounds, like a patient adult dealing with an unruly child, which is frustrating and more than a little offensive.

"You told me a moment ago you would be willing to try again. I know I do not look my best right now..."

"Do you really think I care about that?" Mihawk retorts; he hasn't raised his voice, but anger is seeping in his tone, which you approve. Anything, even rage, is better than concern; anything is better than him treating you as if you were broken, even though you are "I never have. Not with you. I have never stopped wanting you since we last parted, and I still do, fully and desperately."

If there is a thing you can always count on with Mihawk, it is him being sincere. "Then won't you stay with me?" you ask, holding out your hand towards him; you have always found it degrading for a woman, for any person actually, to beg for that sort of companionship, but this is what you are doing, you are begging him to take you in his arms and make you forget, at least for a little while, and you feel no shame or embarrassment, because you know that he, a proud and severe man, will not judge you "I need you, Mihawk. Please, don't leave me."

Your crutch, that the doctor (reluctantly) gave you permission to use to move around instead than using a wheelchair, is leaning against the wall next to your deck-chair, but before you can reach for it Mihawk's arms slip behind your back and under your bent knees, and a moment later he's crossing the terrace door and then the parlour, you firmly but gently held in his arms.

"Mihawk, put me down! I can walk..."

"You clearly can't." he reasonably points out, a trace of amusement in his voice "And don't worry, you're light."

You don't remember ever being held like this since you were a very young child, and you immediately decide you like it, both because you can feel his heart beating, much faster than normal, against yours, and because the proximity allows you to kiss him, which you avidly do, your arms circling his neck. You feel nothing but desire and joy and relief as you cling to Mihawk, pouring your very soul in each kiss, not stopping even as you push your bedroom's door open to let him carry you inside.

You need him. Because you are hurt and weak and scared and he is the only one you feel able to receive comfort from, but there is more to it; he is part of you, in a way you would be unable to explain but that you cannot ignore. In the solitude of your heart, you know it to be true, and it scares you, but you are not sorry for it.

Mihawk delicately lays you down on your bed, next to the little table cluttered with medicines and bandages, mindful of your broken leg. He takes his plumed hat off, his eyes trained on you as he leaves it on a nearby chair, and then places Yoru against the nearby wall. "I thought I would never see you again." he murmurs; he doesn't elaborate, keeping silent on the thoughts and emotions that belief elicited in him. Perhaps he wouldn't be able to, but that is all right, because you can perceive what he feels and thinks all the same; looking in his eyes is enough. "I... I missed you very much."

He doesn't know how much of a treasure those words are to you; which means, you immediately decide, you'll have to show him.

"And I you."

You quickly untie the knots of your dress, but then you stop, enraptured as you observe Mihawk undressing. He is not exactly putting on a show for you, but judging from the smirk adorning his face, he is more than aware of the effect he has on you. His long coat is the first to go, then his dagger necklace, his boots, his pants and what he wears underneath. Soon he is naked as the day he was born, and he joins you on the bed, slowly advancing like a predator moving towards his next meal. "Are you ready for me, woman?" he whispers, and you smile, confident you can play his game and even beat him at it.

"Maybe you're the one who is not ready for me."

Still, your self-confidence lasts only a few seconds, until you have awkwardly slipped the lower half of your dress from under your ass and taken it off, leaving him free to observe your abused, weakened body. You wait, anxious like a young soldier being inspected by a superior officer, afraid of what you could see in his eyes.

"Don't pity me." you warn him softly as you welcome him in your embrace "I have been lucky."

Mihawk sighs, as if understanding your motives but reticent to accept them; he gently lowers you on the bed, propping himself with his elbow next to your face. "I wish I could make them all pay." he whispers, his free hand gently caressing the bruises, wounds and scars scattered on your skin, the tenderness of his touch enough to bring tears to your eyes. "More than anything else... I wish I was there to help you. To protect you. I know you can take care of yourself..."

"I clearly can't."

"You know what I mean. You saved yourself in the end, did you not? (name), I wish I could make it all go away."

He can't, not really, and you both know it; still, you can smile, as you take his face in your hands, and feel his desire pressed against your tight. "Kiss me." you answer "And hold me tight. That will be enough."

He doesn't answer, but Mihawk has always been the sort of man who lets his action speaks for him, and thank the Gods, actions is exactly what you need now. You sigh, finally relieved, as he kisses you again, your mouths chasing each other as your hands explore the heavy, warm body above yours, your single night together, by now a year ago, enough to make you remember what he liked and what gave him pleasure. Mihawk pants as he feels your fingers caress his smooth chest, lingering for a moment to tease his nipples, and then descend towards the firm roundness of his ass; you grasp at it, greedily kneeding his flesh, and his hips quake. "(name)..." he murmurs, his tone reverent and almost worshipful; you are in awe, moved and grateful you see in his eyes the same emotions that fill your heart "(name), how... how I have missed you..."

"Tell me what you want, Mihawk." you invite him; it is his comfort you crave, the passion and pleasure of your lovemaking to forget at least for a while you will never have a family of your own, but that doesn't mean you don't want him to find joy in it "I want to make you feel good."

Again, he needs no words to express his intentions. He grins before moving to lie on one side next to you, your legs interwined; you are still kissing passionately as his hand moves yours to his hard cock, that you happily caress and tease while Mihawk is greedily sucking on your neck.

"You'll leave a bruise." you laugh; you can't wait to feel him inside you, and at the same time this is enough, the intimacy of feeling him close, not to protect you or to assure you you are still valuable and whole after what was done to you, but simply to know he cares "And everyone will know what I, we, have been up to."

"Good." is Mihawk's curt reply, and a moment later he is nuzzling your cleavage, his tongue lapping at the soft flesh of your breasts. He makes sure you are looking at him before capturing your nipple in his mouth, sucking and even gently biting until you have to press an hand to your mouth, that a moment later Mihawk decisively takes off. "Don't." he orders.

"But..."

"Don't hold back. Scream if you want. Make the whole fortress hear, let your people know what their pretty lady is doing. Let all the men on this island know they have no chance."

Of all the things you could have imagined, Mihawk being possessive, even jealous, of you, would have been the last of the list. But you like it, you immediately decide, you like it a lot, so much that you lift his gaze towards yours with an hand under his chin, while the other grasps at his cock with enough force to make him quiver, and you see pure, raw pleasure explore in his gaze.

"I don't want other men." you confess; it is way too early in your relationship (assuming that he actually wants one; you know you do, and the disappointment would break your heart) for promises and commitment, but you know you'll never regret uttering those words "I only want you. All of you. Take me, Mihawk; I'm yours, whatever you want you can do it to me."

The sound Mihawk makes after hearing your words is not a moan nor a grunt, rather a growl, and when your eyes meet once more you know that he couldn't stop even if he wanted. He doesn't need to, fortunately, and you smile as you lift your hips, careful not to put your weight on your broken leg, and let him take off your panties. The moment you are finally naked in front of him, ready and so eager, you see him lick his lips as he lifts your good leg to wrap it around his hips. He kisses you once more, intense and devout and hungry, and a moment later you feel him push against you, and your body opens like the petals of a flower to welcome him inside.

The moment you are finally one, so close and intimately linked, the relief filling your body is so intense you could weep for it; you can feel his heart beat against your chest, and it is lovely, it is so amazing, because it beats jointly with yours. Mihawk's forehead rests against yours, his hand still caressing your hair.

He is smiling. "Now you're mine." he whispers, in what is both a claim and a promise; and then he starts moving.

*****

It is a good thing that he arrived in the morning, you reflect as you lazily caress Mihawk's chest, since you are free to enjoy the intimacy and closeness between you until it lasts, without having to waste time sleeping. You are lying on your back, pleasantly surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, and it is as if the world outside your bedroom had disappeared; another gun, that you chose to replace your lost derringer even though it doesn't carry the same personal value, is hidden under your pillow. You seem to remember you had some important task to carry out today, the opening of a new school or a meeting with some council member or other, but you are not sure, and for the first time in your life you don't care.

"Does your mother know about me? About us?" Mihawk asks after a while; he is lying on your right side, so as not to bump into your broken leg, and he has yet to let you go, his strong arms firmly encircling your shoulders and waist. Despite the intensity of his desire, he has been gentle with you, as you needed in your state but more than you wanted him to; still, you feel pleasantly sore, your body tired but content and satisfied as Mihawk's fervor still warms your skin.

A soft laugh escapes your lips. "Why? Would it embarass you?" you ask back after kissing his chest.

"Not at all. She didn't seem upset when she saw me, but perhaps she disapproves her daughter associating with a pirate."

You assure him that fortunately your mother has never demanded to choose who you made friends (or more) with, especially since you have become an adult. "Also, she wouldn't have the right to judge." you add pensively as you slowly turn on one side to return his embrace "Since she also fell in love with a pirate."

That also escapes your lips without you realizing; Mihawk does.

"Your father?"

"Yes. He... well, he was part of Gold Roger's crew. He was the navigator."

Mihawk's raised eyebrows suggest you have done what perhaps no one else in the world has: taken him by surprise - twice. "You are not joking?"

"Of course not. I hadn't been born yet, of course, but from what my mother told me their ship passed by our island during one of their voyages, and the captain decided to stop for a while to rest and restock provisions." you explain; many people would be excited to hear a first-hand account of a meeting with the famed King of the Pirates, but you have always been much more interested in the man who, in true pirate fashion, stole your mother's heart. "She, who at the time was the heir just like me now, was the one who went to welcome them at the harbour; she met my father, and for ten weeks they were inseparable. On the day the crew was meant to depart, she told him she was pregnant; she knew the sea was his home, and that no matter how much they cared for each other, and how amazing a father he would have been, settling down on land with her would have made him miserable. So she let him go, and they started exchanging letters. When I was little, my mother would read his to me to make me fall asleep; I never met him, but I kept his wanted poster framed in my room. Then he returned, suddenly one day."

Mihawk's fingers begin to move along your leg, tantalizing close to your crotch. "Was it after Roger had died?"

"It was. Apparently, Roger left his crew voluntarily, he wasn't captured as the Marines said; he had relinquished command to his first officer, but a few members of the crew decided to leave it. My father was among them. He didn't expect my mother and me to welcome him with open arms after seventeen years spent living as he pleased, he told us, but he had never stopped thinking and caring about us, and hoped we would give him a chance to prove it. My mother, who by then had succeded her father as ruler of the island, let him stay, with my approval, and so we had a chance to finally bond."

You don't tell him of those years. Of how you gradually got used to your father's presence in your life, where until then he had been just a picture on the wall; of how he slowly, patiently built a relationship with you, learning to know your emotions, your thoughts, your dreams and fears, and how equally little by little you came to trust him, to respect and finally to love him. Of all the things you did together, the quiet, pleasant afternoons spent fishing at the docks, your legs dangling next to his and the sun on your backs, his awe and pride as he saw how talented you were with a gun in your hand (your maternal grandfather had been the first to teach you, like his own had done with him) and capable in your recently started activity as a mercenary, and how he liked dancing with you while your mother played the piano. You don't tell him how happy you felt when he and your mother told you they had decided to pursue a relationship once more, and how proud and excited he was when you told him you were expecting.

You don't. You can't, because it hurts so much, still today, enough to feel your heart bleed. What you are able to share, although with a huge effort, is that one day, nine years ago, a merchant ship reached your island, ostensibly to exchange or sell the goods in its hold. The truth was very different.

"The ship's original crew had been massacred by a band of pirates, who had then stolen vessel and cargo to carry out the captain's plan. My father had been sure no one would recognize him from his past as a pirate; after all our island was so tiny and virtually unknown, and Gold Roger had been so famous few had ever paid attention to his men, especially one who had no special abilities and powers like him. He was wrong; one of the island's rare tourists had recognized him from his old bounty poster, and weeks later he mentioned it to his friends in a tavern. The captain of the pirate crew happened to hear."

"Did he know your father?" Mihawk asks, still holding you tight; he seems genuinely interested in your story, which does please you, but part of you regrets even starting it, spoiling the pleasant moment you were living together... and that you don't know how long will last.

"No, he didn't. The captain wasn't interested in my father personally, he just wanted to find one of Roger's men... and force him to reveal the location of the One Piece." you explain "My father told the captain he didn't know; that Roger had hidden his treasure in a place only he knew, and had brought the secret to his grave. The captain didn't listen; by then, his men had surrounded the fortress and announced we would both be killed had my mother, who had by chance been at the other side of the island when our home had been besieged, ordered the guards to force an entry. He told us he would kill both of us if my father didn't him what he wanted to know... and in the end he did. The pirate shot me, but my father attempted to shield me with his body; he took a bullet in the head for me, and he died, and then a few guards who had disobeyed orders broke into the room, and I got hit in the cross-fire. I survived, but I miscarried; and even though I had no idea, because I kept having my period as usual after that, it was then that... something must have broken inside me, preventing me from getting pregnant ever again. That day I thought I had lost almost all of my family, but I had no idea of how right I had been."

Your tale has ended; you spoke for a few minutes at most, but you feel exhausted, even more than after you had escaped from your captivity and dragged yourself back home. As you expected, discussing the loss of your father and your baby, and the fact that you are destined to never be a mother, has been an agony you would not wish on your worst enemy; last night you have cried yourself to sleep, and you thought the overwhelming, excruciating pain you felt was too much for a person to bear, and you would die from it. Now that you're able to rationally reflect on it, you know you're not going to be so fortunate: you're gonna live, potentially for decades to come, and this pain will never leave you completely.

A sigh escapes your lips. "I am sorry; this is not the sort of topic one should discuss when with... someone special." you quietly admit, and Mihawk grunts in disagreement.

"I think you and me are beyond this sort of things." he points out before kissing you once more, and despite everything, despite how dead inside you feel, the sensation of his tongue against yours is enough to make you tremble. "You didn't deserve it, (name)." Mihawk quietly adds; he can't make it all go away, no matter how dearly you both want it, but those few, apparently impersonal words matter more to you than any I am so sorry or display of sympathy "Nobody does, but you least of all."

"I agree."

You enjoy the quiet and intimacy between you for a few more minutes, sharing lazy kisses and touches that you know you have already developed an addiction for, and that you will never stop craving.

But you have to. At least for a while, because the strength you need to go on you have to find it inside you, and you can't do it if you're tempted to hold onto him.

"How long can you stay?" you murmur a moment after your hand has slipped downward to caress Mihawk's cock, tearing a satisfied moan from his mouth.

Mihawk shrugs. "I have -ah...!- no pressing duties to attend to. I can stay as long as I want." he explains; a moment, and then: "As you want."

"Oh, you're leaving me the choice?"

"This is your home, and your island. I don't want to be the sort of guest who overstays his welcome."

"You never could and you know it." you point out, and you shiver, feeling his fingers gently explore the expanse of your chest and belly; then, thinking that even the worst criminals are granted a twenty-four hours reprieve to put their affairs in order before the sentence is carried out, you propose: "What if I asked to stay until tomorrow at this hour?"

"That would be fine. Why?"

"Because I feel that if you stay longer, I won't be able to let you leave."

Mihawk reflects on your words; he doesn't seem surprised, nor particularly happy, about your proposal. "Then." he begins as he turns to cover your body with his once more; there is sadness in his yellow eyes, but even more, there is trust and warmth, and perhaps even love, even though that could be wishful thinking on your part "I say we relish the time we can spend together while it lasts. What do you say?"

You obviously agree; you take him in your arms and hold him tight, leaving everything else behind - for a little while at least.

*****

This fic is dedicated to @alphaash99 and @skynikan. Thank you for your support, hope you like this!!

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Steven John Ward #Dracule Mihawk #Dracule Mihawk x reader #Mihawk x reader #Bellona's stuff

164 notes · View notes

missn00tson · 6 months

Text

Yoo Wooin headcanons

Hi, the Wooin landscape is barren af, so Im here to offer my headcanons abt him.

Hope you enjoy!

Nb!Reader

Sfw:

He's Bi, or def fruity in some shape or form.

I once read abt him being in a poly relationship and it has been ingraved in my mind ever since.

Def the type of guy to do a lot of pda. He likes to slap your ass in public, a lot. He's not the type of guy to be gentlemanly and open the door for you, but when he does he will slap your ass as he enters after you.

How comfortable he is with you changes a lot about how he acts with you. When you've been a thing or sortof thing for a long time he will get less... annoying? Dont get me wrong, he's still a litle shit but shows more of a caring side of his. It also ups his aftercare, like, he doesn't leave u or kick u out right after sex.

True to the story he's a little shit always up to somthing, and up for anything. He'd prolly not think twice if you suggest to do smth strange or dangerous.

Would spoil u excessively w gifts. I cant promise u theyre pretty (you have seen his fashion style, its not for everyone) but they will be expensive for sure.

Buys you matching clothes and expects you to wear them so he can show you off.

Will ask you to draw anything and get it tattooed. No mater how good your drawing skills r, if u can hold a pen you're good.

He's pretty good at drawing himself, but just like the rest of him his drawing style is rather... unique. He had been interested in becoming a tattoo artist for a while, and would become one if he didnt get as much money from illegal activities as he does.

Would do drugs and other types of substances with you for fun. He especially loves doing it before and after you've fucked.

He has the most obnoxious alarm ever (if he even feels like getting anywhere on time) and takes too damn long to turn it off.

Types with the most incoherent text messages ever. His texts r abbreviations from hell and as short as they can be. The only emojys he uses r 😎 and 🖕🏻

If you use the middle finger emoji tho he'll tell u it means u have a small dick just to annoy you.

Leaves you on read when you dont ask for a specific answer. He wont answer with an "okay" or anything either.

Would randomly call u at 3am and ask u if he was with u last night when the cops ask him for an alibi. It doesnt matter if he did it or not, he'd lie.

Dont expect him to cook. If you're eating at home it's just simple cupnoodles, otherwise he goes to eat out for every meal.

The guy walks so. Tremendously. slow. Like, showing off walking all badassly but walking slow like a SNAIL

Has the most annoying morning alarm ever (if he even feels like getting somewhere on time) and takes an eternity to turn it off.

Doesn't include you in his job, but isnt super secretive or apologetic abt it at all either.

He's total shit at talking about his feeling other than "annoyed" and "horny", same goes for consoling you about yours.

When you're not close yet he will most likely leave you to yourself as he has no clue how to deal with it other than letting it pass. He might offer you to do something you like to put your mind off it.

If you're more of a serious (for how serious it can be) thing he will try to console u in his own way. He will stay by your side, most likely uncomfortably staring in the distance until u tell him what you want him to do.

Strangely so, these are the moments where he's uncharcyeristicallt distant. Usually he's a guy with 0 personal space but then he just lets you be until he gets told otherwise (sounds submissive to me ahEm-)

If your just a bit down (and he has outruled the possibility that you're mad at him, so you wont atack him outta nowhere) he will try to cheer u up with stupid dirty jokes.

Nsfw:

Would be into crossdressing. More so himself than his partner, but I can see him wearing a short skirt for shits nd giggles once and realizing things abt himself.

Looooves doggy style. Esp when he tops. He loves watching himself sliding in and out of you while you fuck, it just awakens something inside of him.

Would be the type to push u deeper while youre giving him head.

As an adrenaline junky he loves the idea of fucking and teasing in public. Even better if someone else watches.

Def some sort of sadist. He esp loves hour long edging followed by overstimulation. (I dont make the rules. I do but I dont :)

Loves the idea of phone sex, until he gets too horny and wants to do it himself.

But moments like those r the easiest moments to dom him. Yes, he's a switch, a brat for sure.

Even if he doesnt like to admit it, during spicy time is the only moment ur allowed to order him around and having a chance of him listening.

Dont overdo it tho, if he doesnt feel completely at ease w u yet he'll snap right out of it again (esp when he was planning on domming) and rail u even harder.

His rythm is slow and teasing at first, trying to tick you off, but as his own high nears he rams into you with short but quick thrusts.

Continues to fuck you even after you both came, enjoying the pain it gives him and the strangled moans and grunts tou let out.

Loves it when you beg. He loves feeling superior and being worshipped.

Though when hes subbing. Degradation kink. Im telling you. D e g r a d a t i o n

Hes not a gentle guy, he get turned on by seeing your tear stained face. He'd lick off the drops while he's pounding inside of you, wishing you'd cry more.

When he praises you he'll always degrade you at the same time, often using degrading nicknames. "Such a pretty slut for me" "This pathetic doll is taking me so well, aren't they?"

Loves when you bite and scratch him. It sends him straight over the edge when you scratch his back while he's fucking you.

Especially when he's bottoming he loves it when you leave bite marks allover him. On his neck, hut also his inner tighs make him weak in the knees.

You can bite down pretty deeply. If it draws blood, he'll slightly spread his legs further for you to lick it off.

Loves it when you moan around his cock.

Def a hair puller while recieving head, bobbing your head forcefully up and down making you gag.

He asks you to show your tongue after you've swallowed.

Loves calling you "my good slut"

Enjoys having his hands tied back while you ride him. He loves the way you body bounces while you move atop of him while he strains his hands in his cuffs.

He loves when you use him, ignoring his needs and pleasuring yourself.

The idea of his partners useing him while he's tied up and gagged, unable to stop them from edging and overstimulating him. One on top of him and the other eyeing them like a predator. Man that's maybe even better then drugs for him.

He loves hunting. Whether it's chasing you in a haunted house before taking you against the wall or you chasing him before making him crumble under your fingers.

Even though he's a shit, he knows the importance of knowing what your partner wants, and he'd make sure to get to know your prefrences beforehand. After all, what fun would it be if you're not up to do what he wants?

Aftercare after quickies is rare but when you have played a scene with him he will help you clean up and ask you about your opinion of the scene.

He knows no personal space. He cuddles with you until you both fall asleep, but leaves in the morning after showering and eating. (ofc depending on how close u are. If it's just a one night stand he leaves for sure, unless u put some magic on him. If youre more of a regular thing he'd make himself comfortable until u wake up and leave afterwards)

I have no clue how many words this is, but thank you for reading! :)

IHis lips also look so pink and juicy in the newest chapters, did he buy him some lipgloss or smthh?? I love itttt

#Yoo Wooin #Wooin #wooin windbreaker #Wooin headcanons #Woonin #windbreaker #windbreaker wooin #Windbreaker headcanons #nb!reader #Sfw

169 notes · View notes

sluttywoozi · 2 years

Text

Buy A Boyfriend || chs x reader

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: Being a professional boyfriend on SVTHub is great - all Vernon has to do is respond to a few texts, send out a couple selfies, do a stream every now and then, and he makes enough to cover tuition. Things get a little tricky when he finds himself wishing he actually was your boyfriend.

Rating: M (18+) | Word Count: 4kish

Content Notes: voice kink, male masturbation, swearing, he is a virtual boyfriend for money, the texts will probs look like ass on mobile, gender neutral reader, reader has cats and I borrowed @sluttywonwoo 's cats bc im their aunt and I love them (sorry if u have your own, please imagine them 😭), they dont have sex (in this part) my bad, reader is a stem major bc I live to project, I think that’s it pls let me know if I missed anything!!

Vernon’s username: bandsboyvern

Reader’s username: allthoughtsheadfull

Vernon sighs as he opens up SVTHub, knowing he has at least three messages that ask, “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

His answer will, of course, be “Yes and I would make you a cute little worm house in a jar and take you with me everywhere,” when he really wants to say, ”No I wouldn’t, because I don't know you at all and worms have a very short life expectancy.”

But this is the life he’s created for himself; getting paid to act like a boyfriend comes with answering cliche boyfriend questions. He’s scrolling through messages, answering good morning and goodnight texts with an appropriate selfie, when one message catches his eye, or actually, wow, 5 messages, all from one person.

Vernon tilts his head, considering how to answer. It’s a bit weird that you sought out a pretend boyfriend to tell these things to but he can’t say the messages aren’t more entertaining than the usual ones. And, honestly, snails are effervescent.

Vernon answers some messages from other users; badbitchesrus is having friend group drama again and he’s dying to tell her, “you’re the problem,” but a boyfriend wouldn’t say that so he just agrees, saying, “you’re so right, Jen did copy ur fit last night but u did it better baby.” He replies to a few selfies with paragraphs of fire and heart eye emojis, and sends out a couple ‘hope ur day gets better babygirl’s.

Clicking out of the app, Vernon tries to force himself to focus on studying. He’s got a music theory quiz this week and a sound design exam next week and he’s not prepared for either. His fingers tap out a rhythm on his knee as he runs over scales in his head, swearing to himself after missing the last sharp in B major for the fourth time. He’s about to pull out his keyboard for manual practice when his phone dings with a message, the tone telling him it's SVTHub. His head hits the back of his chair, hoping beyond hope it’s not another worm message, and he smiles in surprise when he sees it’s from you.

thought 5: legally blonde is peak cinema and has something for everyone so whyyyy is it universally disliked

Vernon tilts his head, realizing that even though he’d never seen Legally Blonde, he did dislike it for some reason. Huh.

His phone goes off again, another thought from you.

thought 6: why did stephanie name it twilight and then have bella meet edward in the daytime

He hasn’t seen Twilight either but, honestly, you bring up a good point. Why name it a certain time of day and then not have them meet at that time?

Happy to be distracted, Vernon settles in to ask you some questions and hopefully get some movie recommendations.

Before Vernon can respond, he gets another message, from bbygrill99 this time. She’s requesting an ab pic, her third this week, and he wonders why she’s so obsessed with his abs when his ass is great too, but complies nonetheless. Lifting his shirt, he tenses his abdominals and tilts his phone to get the perfect angle, his bottom lip just barely in frame and his gray sweats sitting low on his hips. He’s been trying to drink more water because apparently you need it to survive, so his abs aren’t as defined as usual and he hopes she doesn’t say anything. He sends the picture out with a kiss emoji and saves it to his folder of lewds, hoping he’ll be able to reuse it.

He’s very intrigued by the idea of threats to increase productivity, and asks you more questions. This turns out to be counterproductive as it leads to a whole conversation that makes him laugh all the way through, and consequently, he doesn’t get any more work done.

It’s almost time for his weekly goodnight stream, and Vernon’s still thinking about your last conversation. You’d lured him into a debate about living as a pigeon or living with pigeons, and he still wasn’t sure who’d won. You hadn’t sent him any new thoughts today, and even though you’d just become a subscriber last week, he’s missing you for some reason. He really enjoyed the randomness of your brain, and hearing what was going on in there throughout the day. It was a nice break from pretending to be the perfect boyfriend, and he got to respond like he wanted, not like he thought he should.

Starting the stream, he settles into bed and begins telling his patrons about his day, pausing at certain moments to let them respond to him. On their screens, it just looks like a personal facetime, and they get to pretend he’s talking to them and them alone. He tries not to frown when he realizes you haven’t joined, and hopes you will soon; you were the one person he actually wanted to say goodnight to.

You don’t join, and Vernon goes to bed sad and confused. Why were you paying for this if you weren’t going to use your membership to the fullest? His subscribers loved the introduction of goodnight streams, some are even asking for good morning streams too. You also hadn’t asked him for any pictures yet, even though everyone was allowed three per day. Maybe you just hadn’t read the membership benefits when you joined and didn’t know? He should probably ask, right? Just to be sure you’re getting your money’s worth.

Vernon gasps, staring down at his phone in awe.

A cat picture. You've sent him a cat picture. A picture of a cat. Your cat, presumably.

Vernon’s heart stutters, his eyebrows raising.

damn.

He sighs in disbelief before setting his jaw in determination and deciding the perfect combination and sequence of emojis to convey his true feelings.

Vernon puts the phone down for a moment as he remembers what you’d first said about your cats. One likes you too much and one doesn’t like you at all. He wonders which is which, they're both looking at you with such love.

He’s spinning in his desk chair, zoning out a little, when his eyes hit the open sound design program on his desktop.

Fuck, he has an exam tomorrow.

Vernon’s mouth stretches in a smile, his kicking feet sending him on a giddy spin in his chair. Putting his phone on Do Not Disturb, he forces himself to focus.

Vernon is sitting in his Audio Mastering Techniques class when you text him. He was already struggling to focus, fingers drumming on the table and leg bouncing under it, his neighbor sending a glare over every few minutes. He tries his best not to check, but you'd promised him your first thought and he wants to see what it is!

Glancing around surreptitiously, Vernon opens SVTHub with his phone under the table. You'd never sent him an explicit message before but there's a first time for everything (Vernon hopes).

Vernon looks up organic chemistry practice problems but sees ‘Stereospecificity in Addition Reactions’ and ‘Electrophilic Addition Reactions to Conjugated Dienes’ and immediately begins shaking his head, exiting out of the browser and texting you again.

Vernon’s heart starts racing as he reads your text. You want to call him. You want to speak words and you want him to listen and respond and then you’ll respond to his words.

Cool.

Vernon’s sitting at his desk, spinning around as the phone rings and rain pangs against the window.

“Hey! Sorry,” you sound out of breath, “it’s monsooning and i couldn’t text and hold the umbrella and keep my laptop out of the rain at the same time.”

“It’s okay, no worries. How’d the exam go? Did you cry?” He asks, only slightly worried.

“It went well, I think! I did cry but just a little and I didn’t get it on the exam paper this time, thank goodness.”

You tell him more about the exam and he just listens, absorbing your voice and tone and cadence. He wants to record you, wishes he could listen to you all the time, your voice is so entrancing.

“Did you have your midterm yet?” You ask sweetly, sounding concerned.

This startles Vernon out of his trance and he has to ask himself if he has taken his midterm yet today, and sighs in relief when he realizes he has a few hours left to go.

“Nah, it’s not till later so i’m just studying and vibing.”

Vernon chats more with you, trying to imagine what you look like and wishing patrons had a profile picture like he does, before he realizes it’s been an hour and he should get focused. Promising to call you after his exam and wishing he could just take you with him in his pocket, he hangs up.

Vernon does call you after his exam, and he calls you the next day too, and the next. It’s easier than ever for him to respond to messages, romantic words flowing and streams getting more and more popular. He just pretends he’s talking to you and it always works. You haven’t joined one of his streams yet but he’s holding out hope, and secretly wishing that you’d request a private videocall. You still haven’t asked for any selfies but he finds himself sending them anyway, hoping someday you’ll send one back.

He’s getting ready for his bedtime stream when he starts thinking about your last phone call, just a few hours ago. You’d just woken up from a nap, sounding all raspy and sleepy and cute, and he tried to picture your face, cheek lined with pillow creases. He doesn’t remember what you’d talked about because he couldn’t focus on anything but your voice, soft and sweet in his ear. He pictures you, laying in bed next to him, your head on his chest or his on yours, your legs tangled up with his own. He can’t help but imagine your fingers trailing over the ridges of his abdomen, running up and down his chest, and his own fingers start to follow.

Vernon thinks about your fingers moving lower, running along his waistband and dipping beneath. But you’re a tease, and they slip out and over the fabric of his sweats, pressing down where he’s starting to grow hard. He rubs his palm over his dick, squeezing harder the closer he gets to the head, imagining your giggle when his hips buck up. His phone goes off, startling him out of his fantasy and reminding him he has a stream to start.

He hasn’t done one like this in a while but the tips are always insane and he really wants to buy the lego set you told him you did the other day, so he shrugs and presses the red record button on his phone.

“Hey baby, it's so good to see you. How are you?” Vernon pauses to let his viewers answer, thinking about how you’d respond.

“I had a busy day, midterms finished last week but I have a project due soon and I haven’t made a lot of progress on it,” he hears you scold him in his head, telling him to get a move on.

“But I’m really tired, and i just wanna relax. Think you could help me?” Vernon asks, setting his phone down to pull off his shirt, missing the little notification popping up to say you’d joined. He smiles softly into the camera as he picks it back up, sliding on the bed to rest his head on the pillows. He pans the camera down to show his abs, running his fingers down his chest to settle at his waistband, pretending they’re yours. The tips start rolling in and he mutes his phone, the dinging sound beginning to annoy him.

Vernon tries to find that fantasy again, the one where you’re in bed with him and touching him and talking to him, and slips his hand into his sweats, fingers wrapping around his hard cock. He sighs, pulling his dick out and rubbing his palm over the head, his hips jerking at the friction. Leaning over to dig around his bedside table for some lube, Vernon wonders what you’re doing right now. He opens the cap and dribbles some onto his length, smearing it around with his hand. It’s chilly but he just tells himself your hand is cold, and starts squeezing his cock, pulling a little when he gets to the head. A punched out moan leaves his chest, lube warming up and dick getting harder.

It feels better than usual for some reason, but Vernon isn’t willing to think about why at the moment, and keeps jerking his cock. He’s panting a bit now, staring into the camera with half-lidded eyes and lip bitten between his teeth, feeling his abs tense with every pull. Closing his eyes so he can picture your hand moving on him, he tilts his head back into the pillow, wishing he could moan your name.

The heat is starting to rise in his stomach, his hips bucking into the movements of his hand, and he knows he’s getting close. He really is tired so he doesn’t try to draw it out, just squeezes at the head harder and tries not to whine at the pressure. He thinks about your hands on him, god, your mouth on him, and imagines your voice telling him to cum.

Vernon almost drops the phone on his chest with the force of his orgasm, trying to decide if he should turn the camera to show the cum shooting out of his cock and pooling in the ridges of his abs. He leaves it facing him instead, knowing his face is screwed up in pleasure and his moans are echoing throughout the room. Staring at the ceiling, Vernon tries to catch his breath and wonders why he just came so hard. He can feel his eyelids drooping, mind going hazy with sleep and oxytocin, and blows a kiss into the camera, saying goodnight.

You haven’t texted him in a week.

Vernon’s messaged you, selfies and thoughts and questions, but you haven't responded. He even checked your profile, just to make sure you hadn’t canceled your membership. He doesn’t know what to do; you’ve only been a subscriber for a couple months and you’ve only been gone a week, but he misses you. He misses waking up to a random philosophical question from you, or a picture of your latest A, or a video of your cats play(?) fighting.

But Vernon also doesn’t want to bother you, or overwhelm you, so he’s cooled it down a bit. He only texted you once yesterday, and he hasn’t texted you at all today. He just wishes he knew you’re okay, that nothing bad has happened to you, that you’ll come back. He knows now that being a pretend boyfriend is no fun if you don’t have someone whose boyfriend you want to be.

For now, he’ll just keep checking his phone and hoping to see a message from you.

Vernon's knee bounces, jaw clenching as he listens to the phone ring, waiting for you to pick up. He can't wait to hear your voice, it hasn't even been two weeks but that's more than long enough for him. You just soothe him, quiet his brain and still his hands. He's not sure if it's how gently you speak, or how your voice feels like a soft, warm blanket right out of the dryer, or how your words slide over him like silk, but he's missed you and as soon as you pick up and say hello, it's like his entire body relaxes.

He chats with you a bit, catching up on your classes and telling you about the work he's done for his project (little to none), letting you scold him for having done no work on his project and enjoying it.

The conversation draws to a natural conclusion, both of you having exhausted every possible topic in an effort to avoid the reason for the call. Vernon takes a deep breath and tries to steel himself; he's never been good with uncomfortable situations or feelings talk but he's willing to try, for you.

"So, you thought this was like a... pen pal situation? Didn't you have to put in your ID to prove you're over 18?"

"Well, yes, but I thought it was just so we could talk about adult topics, not because it's porn!"

Vernon blanches, he hadn't really thought about the fact that he was basically a porn star and he's not sure how he feels about it. He's not ashamed, sex is normal and human and he needs to make money somehow, but he does wonder how much longer he'll want to keep doing this. It's not easy to act like a boyfriend to so many people at once when he knows there's only one person he wants. And he does know it now, he wants you.

"Does it make you uncomfortable? That I do this?" Vernon worries, knowing he doesn't want to stop but also knowing he doesn't want to lose you.

"No, I mean, a job is a job and you get to make your own schedule and devote all your focus to school. It seems like a great gig, and you're good at it obviously..." You trail off, sounding sad for some reason. He hasn't heard you like this before, your voice a bit thready and foggy, like you're suppressing tears.

"What's wrong?" Vernon asks urgently, becoming more and more concerned with every sniffle that escapes you.

You stay silent for a while, Vernon tries to be patient but he can hear your breath catching, and he's about to start crying too just so you don't cry alone. He breathes out your name, hoping you'll respond.

"Ugh, I just-" you stop yourself, sounding... embarrassed?

"I..." you take what sounds like a very deep breath, and Vernon feels like he's at the edge of a cliff, just waiting to jump.

"I like you! I like when you call me babe and flirt with me and call me and I liked the face you made when you came and I liked how you sounded and then I wanted to make you sound like that! But this is your literal job, acting like a boyfriend, and I didn't know that so I let myself have a crush on you not knowing that it was all fake!"

It takes Vernon a second to process what you said, you'd said it all in one breath and spoken so fast, your voice shaking with the cutest mix of nerves and annoyance.

"Nononononononono!!! It wasn't fake! It was fake with everyone else but never with you," Vernon spits out in a rush, desperate to make you understand. He's pacing in his room now, phone pressed to his ear, arms crossed and fingers taptaptapping at his elbow. He wonders what he can say to make you believe him, to make sure you know that you've always been different, been special, to him.

"I look forward to your thoughts every day. Whenever you text me, I literally kick my feet like a little kid. Every time I streamed - they're not all like that, by the way - I couldn't stop checking to see if you'd joined. Patrons can only ask for three selfies a day, I send you like five, unprompted-" he could go on, but you interrupt him with a call of his name. He's not sure he's heard it on your lips before, but it does something to him. Something that's very inconvenient for him to deal with now, during this very emotional conversation. He's tempted to send you a picture, maybe that will convince you.

"Vernon," you call again, bringing his focus back to your voice and away from what your voice was doing to him.

"So, what are you saying?" you continue, starting to sound a bit less sad and a bit more like yourself.

"I'm saying I want to be your actual boyfriend, and not for money, so you'll have to cancel your membership, sorry."

There's silence for a few beats; Vernon feels himself teetering on the cliff again as he waits for your response.

"I mean- is that... allowed?" You seem unsure, sounding slightly hopeful but a bit apprehensive still. He wishes he could see your face, wishes he knew what you look like at all (knowing would definitely help at nighttime or in the shower or when he wakes up for ... reasons). He shakes his head to bring himself back to the conversation before you notice that his mind had wandered.

"Yea, I mean, my friend does cam shows with his partner and another friend of mine found out his roommate was watching his shows and now they fuck everyday! That could be us!" Vernon tries to reassure you, hoping you're willing to at least try.

"Ummmmm I don't know about that just yet but we could try... dating, I guess? It may be difficult just online but I like you and you say you like me so, why not?"

Vernon thinks that if he jumped out of his window right now, he just might fly. He won't because he's not trying to die now that you're letting him be your boyfriend, but the feeling is there.

"Yes! I do like you, I like you a lot. I like you so much. Please date me." He knows he's practically begging at this point, but he doesn't care. Vernon's willing to beg, on his knees if he needs to, if it means he can be your boyfriend for real.

"Okay! Okay," you giggle, a bit muffled as if you're covering your mouth. "I'll date you if you date me?"

Vernon can't contain his grin, spinning in circles around his room even though he's already dizzy.

"Deal."

Vernon squints, sitting in his 9 am and staring down at the purple pen in his hand, the one he’d found sitting on the desk when he came in.

There’s no way though, right?

Right?

Vernon tries not to freak out as he looks under the desk to find a water bottle. One with your name on it.

Vernon has a choice to make. He could sit here, try to focus on class, while he thinks about you somewhere on campus, struggling through an exam and dehydrated and sad. Or …

Not on my watch, Vernon thinks, shooting up from the desk and grabbing his stuff and yours. He’s jogging across campus before he knows it, dodging frisbees and dogs on the green, weaving through hammocks and hopping over sleeping students. He’s not sure what lecture hall you’re in but he knows the chemistry building, and if he books it, he’s sure he can make it.

He’s speedwalking down the hall, peeking in windows and listening at doors, trying to find your class. His eyes catch a paper taped to a door, warning, “EXAM AT 915. DO NOT DISTURB.”

He could jump in glee but, glancing at his phone and seeing that it’s 9:10, he knows he doesn’t have time.

Vernon’s hoping, praying you’ll listen to him when the door opens a smidge, and the most beautiful face he’s ever seen peeks through. It's like heaven’s light is shining down on him, he thinks he can hear angels, and is that wind? Blowing through his hair?

Staring back at him, your eyes shoot open in disbelief, before landing on your pen and water bottle in his hands. You squeal, bouncing in your shoes and throwing your arms around his neck. He breathes you in, reeling at the weight of your body against his, and you pull back before he can return your embrace. Vernon misses you instantly but he knows you have to go be a genius so, handing you the water and pen, he accepts a kiss on the cheek and watches you leave.

Hiiii!! Would love to know your thoughts, whether they come in a like, reblog, comment, or ask! Please feel free to come talk to me i will cry and smile all day!! Planning a pt 2 for this but i'm hoping to get pt 2 of like a cowboy out first!

Part 2

And check out the rest of SVTHub! A good few fics are out and you’ll still have something to look forward to as more will be posted over the next few weeks ☺️

I am so grateful to @sapphichui for trusting me with this and I’ve had such a great time collaborating with and getting to know other awesome authors on here!

My Masterlist

My taglist

Collab Masterlist

#seventeen #svthub.collab #svthub #✨emily writes✨#vernon x reader #chwe hansol #chwe hansol x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #svt fluff #svt smut #any greendalians here 👀#kpop smut #kpop fluff #camboy!svt #camboy au #hansol x reader

2K notes · View notes

kookslastbutton · 8 months

Text

Love's Remedy ༓ jjk (m) l Ch. III

✑ Summary: Jungkook is a romantic. He comes from a highly intelligent family who wants him to carry out the lineage. Being this way, he goes to college to be a pharmacist but his friends say college isn't just about studying! With a little persuasion, he goes to his first frat party thinking his hat will help him pick up a girl-or woman he means.

Pairing: STEM major!virgin!jungkook x STEM major!hot girl!reader

AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, s2l, college au, mini-series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4,378

Warnings: jk is very determined to "win" oc, jk a romantic, oc has philophobia (fear of relationships), protective!koo again, oc is an engineering student, PC Bang, jk is a king at LOL (League of Legends), jk lowkey flirts with new person, oc gets cold feet but please don't blame her 🥹, jk and oc get on level ground after hashing things through, themes of stalker-ish behavior (not oc or jk!), feat Jackson and Jae-beom, if i missed warning lmk!

Now Playing: seven, summertime sadness, she’s kerosene, angels like you+

A/N: For reference a PC Bang is: "a type of LAN gaming center and Internet cafe in South Korea, where patrons can play multiplayer computer games for an hourly fee". Also, I am not a gaming guru but I try for this chapter that means I researched haha Enjoy! 💞

<< ch. II ༓ ch. IV >> | series masterlist

A week later, Jungkook waits for you at your agreed rendezvous point; for over an hour. You promised to meet him near the campus garden at 7 pm but here it is almost 8 pm and you're a no-show.

He checks his phone for the fourteenth time since arriving–no reply.

Jungkook tries not to jump to conclusions but you broke your word and you ghosted him.

He thinks back to last week when he'd stepped between you and Jun-ho. And when you followed him back to his dorm where he told you he could love and take care of you, as you helped patch his wound. Had he come on too strong? Did you get into more trouble that he didn't know about?

He kicks a few pebbles by his feet, sending them flying in every which way, as the number of endless possibilities rattles his brain.

"Stupid," he cusses himself. "You're just so fucking stupid."

How could he believe that after two short weeks of random run-ins with you that he'd earn your interest? You told him you don't do relationships yet he still shows up, anxiously presenting himself as your knight in shining armor. Any sane person would tell him he was barking up a dead tree.

"Might as well get a head start on next week's homework." Jungkook loses hope, trotting back to the dormitory with the wind howling and mocking behind him.

"What do you mean she ditched you?" The boisterous inquisition belongs to Jackson who's looking thoroughly offended once hearing his new best friend was shown up. He isn't sure how much this woman meant to him, but either way, it makes him livid. Even if you weren't going to go out with him, you should've at least told him like a decent human being.

"I really thought she'd come," Jungkook replies with his heavy eyes. He walks alongside the blonde-haired boy, dirt crunching below his feet. "Guess she had something better to do."

"No." Jackson stops in the middle of the road. "You know who actually has better things to do? It's you. What do you say to hitting up the PC Bang downtown? Play a little League of Legends or Overwatch?"

Jungkook shrugs with less enthusiasm than a snail. "Sure…"

"Hey man," Jackson puts a hand on Jungkook's shoulder. "I'm sorry about you and __. It sucks being stood up. I've had my fair share and you just gotta take it as a blessing that nothing else happened between you both. Nine times out of ten, it didn't have anything to do with you either so don't blame yourself. Take it as a lesson and keep working on yourself until the right person shows up. They'll be the person you can truly give yourself to."

"Hard to believe you've been shown up. You're charismatic, confident, in good shape, have good facial features, and you're getting your MD." Jungkook's aware of his friend's attempt to lift his spirits but he can't fathom anyone not giving Jackson the time of day. Due looks like a pop star in the making.

"Nah, most of what you just said is me bullshitting my way through life. I'm not all that," Jackson rejects, striding forward. "I got rejected by a girl a few days ago myself."

"Had a boyfriend?"

"Nope, just didn't like me. And she doesn't go out with first -years apparently."

"Oh," Jungkook's eyebrows shoot up. "She was an upperclassman?"

"Yup, on her third year."

At this Jungkook's mouth gapes open. "No wonder she said no. What the hell are you doing trying to go out with a third-year?” The accusatory tone spins Jackson's head–he's a sad little puppy with you but a bulldog with him. What a puzzling fellow.

"Same thing you're doing trying to convince someone who doesn't want a relationship to go out with you."

Jungkook dials back his previous assertion. "We're idiots."

"Correction. we're dreamers." Jackson slaps him on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's go burn some shit up at the internet cafe."

By the time he and Jackson get to the cafe nearly all the computers are taken. It's no surprise since PC Bang's are quite a rave amongst university students like themselves. You can play the hottest games for hours while stuffing yourself full with whatever food's served on the cafe menu–all for a small fee of course.

"Let's go here." Jackson manages to grab two free id cards from the counter–guiding them to two empty PCs, side by side to each other. "How long do you want to play for?"

Jungkook sinks himself in the leather gaming chair and powers on the machine in front of him. "I'm good until 6 pm, but then I should head back to my dorm and do homework."

"Cool, same for me. We'll play for three hours then."

"What should we play?" Jungkook tosses the headset over his ears and scrolls through the game options. Jackson does the same.

"Kinda in the mood for LOL." He flips to the game's screen card. "Gonna need to join a team though."

"No problem.," Jungkook clicks the game on his own pc until the loading screen covers his view. "So many people play League of Legends. We'll be able to find one in no time."

Jackson nods and opens LOL himself. "Let's kick some ass."

"Fuck yeah," Jungkook mumbles, inaudible to everyone but himself.

An hour passes and he and Jackson have been hammering their opponents into the digital abyss. The thrill and surge of adrenaline cause him to forget previous heartaches–aka you. Plus, after finding a team of three to jump into; one member who happens to be female, Jungkook's been able to turn his attention to other prospects.

"Soomin, how long have you been playing LOL for?" Jungkook decides to learn more about his female teammate after claiming the final victory over the opposing team.

"Five years," her raspy voice comes through his headset. It sure is a unique voice, he notes.

"Same. We should play on a team more often. In fact, Jackson and I are thinking about building an official LOL team so we could use a third person. You're really good so if you want, we'd love to have you." Beside him, his friend gives him a confused look. 'We are?' he mouths silently which Jungkook ignores.

"Wait really?" She pauses a moment. "I've never been on a permanent team before. I guess that'd be cool."

"I play late at night sometimes too. Meaning if you ever wanna jump on with me shoot me a message or something."

"Alright, I'll jot down your username."

"Already got yours memorized," he says, a tad more cocky than he meant.

"Damn," she cusses. "You work fast. By the way, do you go to university?"

"Yeah, I go to Seoul National University."

"No way, what year are you? I attend there too. I'm a second-year."

"What?!" He nearly hits the ceiling once the information is disclosed. He had no idea Soomin would be this close and that he could meet her in person. call him eager but should he ask her out? No…he's already made that move with you and look where it left him. He'll ask to hang out first. "We should meet Soomin. As long as you don't mind that I'm a first-year that is," Jungkook chuckle lightly and looks over to Jackson who immediately gives him a double thumbs up.

"Well I'm kinda busy this week but how about next week? Also, if it's good with you, can my boyfriend come?"

Fuck. If this is some kinda joke he'd like to catch a break any time now. Not that he was as intrigued with Soomin as he was, or still is, with you but he definitely thought it was going somewhere!

"You're dating?" Jungkook watches Jackson lower his double thumbs up, frowny face on.

"Yeah, we've been together for a year. Met as classmates." When she giggles Jungkook has the unexpected urge to roll his eyes. Of course, you did, he mutters, just a perfectly peachy coincidence for you two.

"Well that's nice," he says bitterly.

"Oh, I'm sorry Jungkook. He's actually calling me now so I have to go but I'll talk to you soon. And message me when you want to meet. I'll tell my boyfriend about you!"

Great. Jungkook bids her goodbye and she signs off.

"Sorry about Soomin. She seemed cute." Jackson slides his headset off his ears to rest them around his neck. "But you know what? You're still a force to be reckoned with inside the virtual world. I honestly don't know how you do it."

Jungkook grins shyly and slips his headset on the desk. "I've been playing for a long time. Must be something to do with that." He throws a hand over his abdomen when his stomach rumbles at the same time. "We should order food." He browses the cafe's extensive menu on his pc. Nothing but rows and rows of tasty options flash back at him, urging him to spend fortunes.

Still, he's got to cap it at some point with only about 2,000,000 Korean won (about 1,500 USD) in his bank account. The Jeon family is wealthy but Jungkook is not. His parents are especially careful to inform him that generational wealth is not going to be given to him freely. Instead, he is to earn his own money, starting at the car wash which he worked at over the summer.

"I'm getting an order of Tteokbokki and a soju. What about you?" Jackson punches in his order, sparing a glance at Jungkook who's tapping on his keyboard with one hand while the other rests under his chin.

"The Jjajangmyeon looks good. I'll get that with a soju too." After Jungkook enters in his own order he strolls his chair out from under the gaming table. "Do you see a bathroom around here?"

"Yeah, it's all the way to that far right corner." Jackson points in that direction with his thumb.

"Okay, I'll be right back."

Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom.

Jungkook repeats the simple word to himself. He scans the corner Jackson gestured towards earlier but sees nothing except a giant blank wall. Must have meant the opposite direction. He turns himself around to scout the other side of the floor.

"Excuse me sir-" a voice chimes close behind him.

"Oh sorry." He steps aside to let the young lady by and as soon as he does his whole body jerks forward in shock. "__!"

You turn around with the tray of food in your hand in what looks like a work uniform. "Yes, what can I do–Kookie?" You grip the plastic tray firmer to keep it from shaking uncontrollably, though the clamminess of your palms makes it a challenging task. Seeing Jungkook at the place you work was bound to happen being that the PC Bang is close to the university. You just weren't prepared for it to be tonight during one of your last shifts of the season.

"I didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah, only part-time." After bumping into Jungkook moments ago, you found it inevitable to avoid him further. You agreed to meet him outside once your break started. "I'm planning on leaving before the semester gets crazy. I have about a week left probably."

It dawns on Jungkook that he doesn't know what you study so with shifty eyes and clenched fists, he asks. "What are you going for?"

"Engineering." You can tell he wasn't expecting that for an answer; most don't be a woman in the field and all. "Jungkook, let's not do this. I'm sorry about what happened the other night." A sick queasy feeling settles in your gut–you're well aware you did Jungkook wrong. You're not proud of it in the slightest and him standing in front of you right now only reminds you of your guilt.

"I waited for you __. You said you come even if it was a rejection." A twinge of hurt laces behind his words and he keeps a controlled stance. He doesn't get in your face, demanding for an answer, nor does he break down and cry. He's more inquisitive than anything else. "Where were you? Why didn't you come?"

"I–" You intertwine your fingers, a nervous habit you picked up in childhood. "I panicked Kookie. I'm so sorry."

Jungkook stiffens when he hears the endearing name drop from your soft lips again. It was nice at first but now it feels like a sharp pain twisting in his side, like a thorn only for his misery. "Can you not call me that, please? It's–It's making me uncomfortable."

"Oh god," you lunge forward out of instinct but freeze when he steps back. "Jungkook I really am sorry. I was planning to see you. I had my shoes on and everything. Like I said I panicked, I'm not suited for relationships. And I'm not suited for you."

The last part stings the most.

"But–"

“There’s no buts Jungkook." You place your hand on the door of the building. " I have to get back to work."

"Wait!"Jungkook moves to face in front of you from an angle. "You say you're not suited for relationships but why did you get ready to see me? Why didn't you just say no to me? And last week when you told me you needed more time to think…was it a lie?"

"Because I like you okay? You're cute, protective, sweet, but you like me too much." you release the handle. "You don't know anything about me yet you've already got into a fistfight with an obscene jerk for me and claim you'll wait for me even when you just met me. If you love me this much now how much more will you love me later?"

" I'll love you for eternity."

"See this is it, Jeon. You saying stuff like this before anything real has happened between us–it's too much. How can you be this devoted to basically a stranger? You'll love me for eternity but have you considered that maybe I won't?"

"What are you saying?"

"What makes you think I'll love you as much as you do me?"

" I don't think like that __. I don't want a relationship so I can see what I can get. that's not how my mind works. I understand that I've been very forward with you. I should have been more conscientious about how that would make you feel but when I say that I love–"

"Please, don't drop the 'L' word. If you're saying love then you don't love me; only the idea of me."

Jungkook pauses, wordless

"Never thought of it that way huh? Guess not. Let me ask you something…do you know what I do? With men?"

He swallows and shakes his head no

"I sleep with them. A new guy a week if not twice a week. People call me a whore, and I'm spreading my legs for everyone and anyone willing. Do you want to get involved with someone like that?" You wipe away an escaped tear.

"I don't care about that at all __."

"Well, you should! This is who I am Jungkook. I can't let you be responsible for me. So unless you want a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits relationship, I suggest you forget about me. I can't be your girlfriend."

"__!" Your manager shoves the front door open, causing you and Jungkook to jolt in surprise. " Where have you been? We have about twenty orders that need to be served."

"Sorry Manager Choi. I'll get right on it." You spare Jungkook one last glance before disappearing back inside the PC Bang. "I'm sorry," you say with a lowered head.

That night Jungkook lays on his bed, thumb hovering over your name in his contacts list. His logical side whispers for him to delete it. His heart says to call, text, or do something to–no. He remembers your pained facial expression; on the verge of tears as you explained to him that he'd been too quick in making his mind up about you. But then he replays your final words.

"…unless you want a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits relationship, I suggest you forget about me. I can't be your girlfriend."

Well, he doesn't want the first two but if it meant he could be in your life longer–stop. His logical side intrudes. "You don't want to go down that path," he matters to himself. "It's better if you just delete the number." Jungkook moves to tap the trash can icon on your phone contact, a pang in his chest. Just as he's mustered up enough strength his phone buzzes off, screen lighting the entirety of the darkened dorm room. His roommate groans at the sound and rolls over in their bed.

"Jungkook," said roommate rubs his face. "I have an 8:15 tomorrow morning. Please speak take it in the hallway."

Jungkook quietly jumps out of bed not solely because of courtesy to his roommate but also because it's from you.

"Jungkook… can you um…"

"__?" He eases the door shut behind him and paces up and down the hallway. "Are you there?"

"Can you meet me at the bus stop near the campus library/ I'm sorry to be asking you it's just that…Jun-ho's–"

"What is it? Are you okay? What about Jun-ho?"

" I'm taking the bus back from work and he's on the same one he keeps staring at me and I'm scared of following me back to my dorm. Please Kookie-Jungkook I mean. I don't have any right to ask you, I know. He won't try anything with the bus driver here but once I get off I'll be alone. I have some pepper spray in my bag–"

"Yes, yes I'll be right there. How far are you out?" This isn't about pursuing you, impressing you, or anything like that anymore; it's about your safety. Jungkook leaps into his room, grabs his wallet, and shoves the sneakers on his feet. "__? Did you hear me?"

" I'm five minutes from the stop. Oh, he's, he's still staring at me."

"Don't look at him __. I'm walking down right now. Stay on the phone with me. I'll be waiting for you when you get there okay?"

"Thank you Kook. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. If Jun-ho's tracking you down like a wolf, it'll be his funeral." The icy tone in Jungkook's typically warm, milky tone sends a shiver up your spine.

The bus you're on pulls up in exactly five minutes, as you estimated. Jungkook frantically searches for you through the window glass, growling when he sees Jun-ho standing up a few rows behind you. He makes sure to be as close to the bus's exit doors as possible so he can grab your hand as soon as you step out.

"Hey!" He greets you loudly. "How was your shift?"

"Great! We were running around like crazy but thankfully, I didn't have to work through the night." You cling his hand tighter, slinging your other arm around his.

"That's a blessing." Jungkook and you walk faster, putting more space between you and Jun-ho. "You must be tired."

"Oh yeah, I can't wait to slee–ah!" You trip over a ledge on the sidewalk. Jungkook grips you before you completely fall flat on your behind.

"New feet?" He can't help but joke and you slap his arm. Jungkook helps straighten you back up, your hands remain interlocked. When it comes to a split in the road, you and Jungkook filter to the right side towards the female dorms. You hope to god Jun-ho takes the left.

"He's such a fucker." Jungkook curses, peering over his shoulder just enough to see Jun-ho faltering at the intersection. He burns holes at both of you so much that it makes Jungkook feel like kneeing him in the gut but he doesn't want to provoke the bastard–putting you in unpredictable danger. "I'll get you to your dorm. Which one is yours?"

"Up ahead." You gesture at the brick building with the number 318.

"We can let go of our hands now." You're the first to speak after arriving outside your dorm.

Jun-ho thankfully did not follow you any more than back at the split in the path between male and female dorms. The fact that he still attends school here makes your skin crawl. You don't exactly like calling people a mistake but Jun-ho is by far an exception. You messed around with the guy one time while you both were a bit tipsy and he keeps hounding you. If you need to, you will make him stay away from you permanently.

"Promise me you'll get a restraining order on him if this happens again or gets worse." Jungkook ignores your suggestion to release your hands. "That idiot has no right to be around you."

"I will. Thank you for coming out. I was nervous to call you being what happened earlier. I truly, from the bottom of my heart, am sorry. And I know having to go back to work left things hanging so if there's anything else you wanted to talk about or tell me, please feel free."

"Anything for you–" slips out of his mouth before he can stop it. He slaps a hand over his mouth instantly, you chuckle softly.

"It's okay Jungkook," you reassure. "I can tell you wear your heart on your sleeve. You're naturally very accommodating and flattering."

"And you're beautiful. Damnit, I did it again. I'm sorry __, but whenever I look at you I feel butterflies and I say a lot of fluffy stuff. I'm not trying to flirt or impress you by using what can be in the right context, shallow methods. But yeah, I was thinking about what happened at the cafe earlier tonight and I think get it–I've been too quick to the draw. I'm honestly not sure why I'm so attracted to you other than the fact that you're breathtakingly gorgeous in literally every way, both physical and non-physical. It makes me want to know you more. And the fact that assholes like Jun-ho won't leave you alone makes me want to be your personal bodyguard or something. I don't lift as much as him but fuck, I can keep him in his place. I'm starting to sound crazy, aren't I? It's like you said, we're strangers after all…right?"

Jungkook waits for you to respond. The cool autumn air is crisp against your cheeks, not cold enough to see your own breath, but enough to have you secretly grateful for the warmth that comes from his hand. That's right, you've been clinging onto his hand for dear life for the past fifteen or more minutes. You should probably let go now if weren't for the fact that he's also clinging onto yours just as hard.

"You really want to know me Kookie?" You brush a few strands of his hair that have blown in front of his eyes. He's incredibly handsome now…how did you not see it before? Sure he's cute with his bunny-like smile, mole on his button nose, and his adorable voice that makes you oh so soft and comfortable inside. But he's also handsome with his piercing oak tree-colored eyes, perfectly sharp jaw, and eager yet tenacious energy that always seems to show up for you.

Jungkook takes your other hand in his, swinging them between you both. "Of course," his earnest voice chippers. "It’s next to impossible for me not to want to know you. I'm sure I'll eventually move on if that's what you really want, but if there's another alternative that can avoid that I'd like to take it. You seem to be in deep thought about something…" he switches up his response when he notices you don't look as alert as you usually do. “__.”

"I'm here," you say, the tiniest bit dazed. "I was just thinking about something."

"Yeah I know, but about what?"

You swallow before replying. “…You.”

Jungkook smiles sheepishly. You're unsure if he's pleased or nervous. "Is it–is it something good or should we leave it here?"

"Are you free tomorrow?" You bite the inside of your cheek, begging yourself not to take it back. "It's Sunday so I get if you have some last-minute studying to do. Just thought maybe we could do something….together." Jungkook goes to reply, cheeks more than raised but you continue speaking before he sounds a word. "It's not a date per se. I'm being crazy annoying but I'd like to be friends first with something extra."

"You said no to friends before though. This isn't an offer to be friends with benefits is it?"

"That was when I wasn't sure what I wanted with you if anything. I didn't want to take advantage of you or anything. I want to start as friends so we can see if we can somehow be more. I'm interested in you Jungkook so no, not friends with benefits but rather, friends with the potential to be more."

"Okay," Jungkook squeezes your hands. "I can do that. What do you want to do? What time do you want to meet? What do you want me to wear?"

"First of all, if we're going to do this I'm going to need you to treat me like your bro. Wear what you want, we can meet afternoon and we'll figure it what to do along the way." You think your suggestion is fair yet it's crystal clear that it's not ideal for Jungkook, given the pout on his face.

"I don't want you to be my bro though," he whines.

"We start as bros or we're not hanging out." You're firm because you want this to work but you know yourself, and you need to take this slow.

"No wait, okay. Bro it is. You'll be the prettiest bro of mine."

"Jungkook," you snort, undignified. "That sounds weird."

He shrugs, "I'm weird when I'm with my friends. Especially when they're as pretty as you, it makes me all dumb because I can't seem to think straight anymore."

"Alright Romeo," you say, face flushing. "Save the rest for tomorrow."

<< ch. II ༓ ch. IV >> | series masterlist

A/N: This was originally going to be three chapters but it will be extended 😶 Lmk what you think and if you wanna to be tagged fill out tag form or ask 💞

Masterlist

Taglist:

@hoseokteardrop @skzthinker @igchochi @jksjx

#jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenarios #fic:lovesremedyonfire #kookslastbutton

274 notes · View notes