#The phrase there should be I wish to never take any of your souls. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thefrogdalorian · 4 months

Text

Dincember Day 21: Love

Word Count: 2362 Rating: General Summary: Despite how much time you have been spending with Din and getting to know him, you are still none the wiser as to whether your feelings for him are reciprocated. But an impromptu night of stargazing leads to a confession that may just change everything for the two of you... Content Warnings: None! Author's Note: Obsessed with the mental image of Din being a dork and saying wizard if you ever told him you loved him! The scene in Barbie where Ken leaves to shout "SUBLIME!" yep... I could imagine Din doing something similar. Also a bit of a prequel to this whole Dincember universe I am creating. I may run with this in future and turn reader into an OC because I really love writing a dynamic like this! Hope you enjoyed this one!

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

It had been such a draining day at work that the only thing keeping you sane was the knowledge that you had plans that evening to visit Din in his little cabin and spend some quality time with him and Grogu. One might expect that doing archival work on Nevarro was a pretty low-stress job but it seemed that today, every single last one of your colleagues had come to you with some demand or other. Half the time, you expected they were doing it purely to get a rise out of you and test your patience. You were, after all, the newest member of the team.

Mercifully, it was finally the end of the day. As you made your way out of the building, you realised how exhausted you were. Your limbs felt heavy, as though all energy had been sapped out of you. If it weren’t for the date you had arranged with Din, you would probably have had a scalding hot sonic shower before clambering into your cot, hiding behind thick blankets from the world.

But that wasn’t to be the case. There was a certain Mandalorian whom you were very fond of awaiting your arrival. Given Din’s adherence to the Creed, there were a somewhat limited number of ways for the two of you to spend time together, that did not mean his inability to remove his helmet was an issue. The two of you often went for strolls around Nevarro; Din would sometimes meet you after work or on a day off and the two of you would hit the market. You sometimes wished that you could take him to your favourite eateries and cantinas to feast and drink the evening away, and enjoy time with him there. But you were growing so close to him that you almost forgot you had never seen his face.

It was strange, really. You knew that a face should be such a large part of getting to know who a person was. After all, a face comprised many elements that made a person who they were. You had always heard phrases like ‘eyes are a window to the soul,' with no previous reason to question their validity. But now you felt that you perfectly understood the man Din was, despite having never set eyes upon his face. From the moment you had met Din, you felt instantly drawn to him. You felt safe and comfortable in his presence almost immediately which was rare for you, especially after seeing the way he cared for Grogu. Yet, there was so much about Din that remained a mystery to you.

Despite the sides of Din that you were yet to see, you knew unquestionably that you were falling in love with him. From the moment you had met him, you felt as though any second spent without him was torturous. His deep voice and comforting presence were always the last things on your mind at night. Din was the first person you thought of when you woke up. Being with him, regardless of where you were or what you were doing, was exhilarating. As was any time you communicated on your comlinks, his messages usually left you grinning broadly. Plus, it was thoughts of seeing Din and Grogu that saw you through your most hectic, draining days. Just like today.

Yet, you still had no idea whether he felt the same way about you. Did he merely view you as a good friend, or was there any possibility that he loved you, too?

You had no idea if Din was even permitted to feel love as part of his Creed, or if he could, whether he could love someone who was not Mandalorian. You could not imagine that he was prejudiced against those who were not Mandalorian. You had certainly never felt such coldness from him or seen anything that indicated he held such beliefs. But his personal feelings would probably not have mattered, especially given how strict some aspects of the Creed appeared to be.

You were reasonably certain that Din, at the very least, enjoyed spending time with you as much as you did with him. He always made an effort to see you whenever he was back on Nevarro between jobs, and even when work with the New Republic took him away, the two of you kept in regular contact via your comlinks. But you remained unsure to what extent his care for you was borne out of a desire to ensure that the person he had brought to this planet and secured a job for was adjusting... or to what extent it could be evidence of deeper feelings for you.

Feelings like these were confusing and, after the stressful day you had, you had resolved not to spend every single second with Din agonising over whether his every little word or gesture was some subtle clue as to his feelings about you. You knew you should probably gather the courage to ask him for yourself. After all, you could not imagine that a man who seemingly cared for you as deeply as Din did would have an overly negative reaction.

Despite your vow to yourself, your mind was overactive. As you sat playing with Grogu on the floor of the cabin while Din tidied away the dishes from the meal you had just enjoyed together. (Well, almost together. Din had eaten his meal with you in the kitchen, but he sat at the counter rather than joining you and Grogu at the table. He ensured too that your back was turned to him so you did not inadvertently glimpse any part of his face). You could not stop fantasising about evenings like this becoming your everyday life. Living in this cabin with Din and Grogu, enjoying every mealtime and evenings playing with Grogu just like this. You could see it so clearly before you that you almost wanted to cry. It was a cruel game that you were playing with yourself, daring to believe that a man as incredible as Din Djarin could ever love you.

Before those depressing thoughts could continue any longer, though, Din returned from the kitchen. You were instantly brought out of your ruminations at the sound of his approaching footsteps.

“I hope he’s not being too much trouble for you,” Din said as he leaned down to pat Grogu’s head lightly, before he took a seat in front of you on the couch.

“Never,” You shook your head. You genuinely meant it too, you loved spending time with Grogu.

“You’re so good with him,” Din said as he stretched his arms across the back of the couch, his legs spread.

You swallowed. Both his words and the position he was in had moved something deep inside you. “Thank you,” You said quietly, looking down away from Din as you felt the way your cheeks warmed in embarrassment.

The moment passed and you resumed playing with Grogu. You were trying to show him how to stack wooden blocks without using the Force, to improve his dexterity. But there was a certain mischievous side to the little green child and he kept levitating the blocks when he thought you weren’t looking. You were also painfully aware that Din was watching the two of you interact. His unrelenting gaze made you feel incredibly shy.

“I was thinking, after I put Grogu down in his crib, perhaps we could sit outside together so I could show you some of the constellations visible in the sky on Nevarro?” Din said, you thought you detected a hint of nervousness in his usually steady voice. “It gets so dark out here away from some of the lava flats that you can see so much.”

“I’d love that, Din,” You smiled at him.

“Okay,” Din nodded as he stood up from the couch and scooped Grogu into his strong arms. “Time for bed, buddy.”

You stood up and leaned down to kiss Grogu’s wrinkled forehead. “Goodnight, little guy,” You whispered.

You stood back and looked up at Din. Your cheeks were burning once more, as you realised how intimate that gesture had been. In the moment it just felt natural and completely right. Din remained silent, save for the shaky breath he released. You suddenly felt extremely awkward.

“I’ll, um…” You started, “I’ll wait for you outside, Din.”

You turned your back and bolted from the cabin before you could embarrass yourself further by overstepping your mark. You paced up and down anxiously, before folding your arms, looking towards the stars and inhaling deeply the cool air of the Nevarrian night. You knew that you really needed to pull yourself together and have a conversation with Din about your feelings. Feeling constantly on edge like this could not continue. Now that you were slightly more composed, you turned towards the cabin and waited for Din to return.

When Din emerged from the cabin, you noticed two things. Firstly, how he had removed his armour and was wearing form-fitting cotton clothes that accentuated his muscular body. Secondly, he was walking towards you with what appeared to be a blanket, ready for your impromptu stargazing session.

“It gets cold at night,” Din explained when you closed the distance between the two of you and nodded towards the blanket. “Thought we could sit on the bench and put this over us.”

You made your way to the porch and made yourself comfortable on the bench that was scarcely wide enough for two adults, but the two of you made it work. Din was impossibly close, the warmth emanating from his body as the two of you sat pressed up against each other, shoulders, arms and legs all touching. As you sat there, your eyes gradually adjusting to the darkness, you marvelled at how correct Din was. The view of the stars from this area of Nevarro was nothing short of breathtaking; it seemed as though you could see every single star twinkling brightly.

“I forgot to ask earlier, how was your day?” Din asked, finally breaking the companionable silence that the two of you had been enjoying.

“It was…” You paused, struggling to find words. “Not the best,” You eventually added, settling on a diplomatic answer.

“Why? What happened?” Din questioned, concernedly.

“I just feel like all my colleagues hate me. It feels like they want to give me the most difficult, time-consuming tasks possible,” You said honestly. “It feels like everywhere I go, sooner or later, everyone winds up hating me.”

“How could anyone hate you?” Din shook his head incredulously. “I mean… you’re so… amazing. The way you treat Grogu, it makes me so happy that the two of you get on. That’s… important to me,” Din exhaled deeply.

“Thank you, Din,” You said sincerely, appreciating the warmth that his words provoked in you as the sensation spread throughout your body. “And this was a great idea. I can’t believe how clear the stars are here.”

“Oh, that reminds me! I almost forgot!” Din exclaimed as he stood up. “I was going to get some binocs so you could see the stars more clearly. I’ll be right back.”

Din disappeared off into the cabin and you mulled over his words as you awaited his return. He had called you amazing and indicated that having a good relationship with Grogu was important to him. Surely that meant he placed a great deal of importance on your relationship, platonic or otherwise? But before you could ponder it any further, Din emerged with the binocs and stood with his broad back to you, holding them to his T-visor to ensure they functioned. He sighed deeply as he glanced toward the heavens.

“I’ve had my fair share of people out there who hated me too, you know,” Din said, your earlier conversation clearly still weighing on his mind as he turned around to hand the binocs to you.

“Oh, Din,” You sighed, then added without thinking: “I can’t believe anyone would fail to be completely and hopelessly in love with you from the second they met you.”

For a moment you froze. You had just as well admitted how you felt for him, this was never how you had planned for this conversation to go. Although you did not regret finally vocalising your feelings for Din, you had never intended for it to slip out so casually.

“Do you mean that you…you love me?” Din asked quietly, clenching and unclenching his fists that hung at his sides.

“I do,” You said quietly with a firm nod of your head. Your pulse was thundering in your ears as you admitted something that you had been withholding for months.

The vocoder amplified the way Din swallowed thickly. For a brief moment you wished you could see what his face looked like as you awaited his response.

“Wizard,” Din finally said cheerfully, the grin evident in his voice despite the helmet.

You shook your head slightly, in disbelief that his response to such a moment was such a dorky slang word. Despite his appearance, all hulking in his gleaming unpainted Beskar, which probably terrified almost everyone that he encountered, this man was completely different underneath his armour.

“I love you too,” Din finally said.

You stood up from the bench and without thinking, you threw your arms around Din's neck, giddy with the happiness that his confession had provoked within you. Din laughed heartily and brought his arms around your waist.

You were immensely relieved; there would be no more agonising over whether Din loved you too. You now knew unequivocally that he did.

Later, your cheek was resting on Din’s firm chest as the two of you cuddled underneath the thick blankets of his cot. You were relieved that you had finally taken the step and defined the nature of your feelings towards each other. Never again would you doubt how deeply Din cared about you. You buried your head into his warm, broad chest and giggled softly. Remembering that Din loved you caused a warmth throughout your body that confirmed one inescapable fact: you were hopelessly in love.

#dincember 2023 #din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal characters #my fics #i keep wanting to make these around 1k words and always end up writing way more

93 notes · View notes

bridgertonthings · 2 years

Text

only 1

a/n: new to the whole brigerton series scene so pls keep that in mind

this is highly inaccurate!! and very rushed towards the end, i haven't written in so long. but i tried at least so 🤷‍♀️

sweet fluff with anthony 🤍 enjoy!

fem!reader

Anthony Bridgerton. The very soul that made you catch on fire. It was the way his gentle touch upon your skin caused an eruption of butterflies to swarm your stomach or perhaps the way he had with words, a poet one might say. He could say the most nastiest of sins to you and still find a way to make them enticing.

But lately he had been distant and at first, you thought he wanted space. But he couldn't even look at you anymore. At first, you tried to talk to him but he would shut you out.

His siblings had no idea what was wrong and you were understanding but you too had limits. No matter how many times you had tried to be understanding, his coldness and stoic facade were beginning to get on your nerves. You stopped chasing him, if he didn't want you then he simply didn't care for you.

If that was the game he wanted to play then so be it.

It felt wrong to not have Anthony as your dancing partner whenever the pair of you were at balls together, it felt like your heart was stabbed whenever he was laughing with another woman. He looked at you like a stranger, like the memories you both shared were nothing more than that.

He would look at you with a straight look, not an ounce of fondness like he used to look at you with. So many times you wanted to beg him what you did wrong but again and again, you refrained yourself. He didn't deserve any more of your time.

Maybe you didn't know Anthony as well as you thought, perhaps all those rumours around his person were in fact true. And those rose coloured glasses prevented you from seeing that.

•••

"Do you know something, dearest? There is a ball, graciously hosted by the Bridgerton's tomorrow. I thought you'd be delighted to know" Your mom holds a little letter and your blood runs cold. A frown makes it way to your face and you shake your head no, turning around as you let your hair drop from its beautiful up-do.

3 weeks had passed since you both last exchanged a word and you'd be damned to have to see his face there, making it another awful encounter. He probably had another pretty woman on his hip, flaunting her off. Spending the entirety of the night in the shadows, hoping that it was you that he adored but sadly all good things must come to an end.

"Mother I don't wish to attend the ball" You sigh and she gives you a look, patting the space next to her. But she has that glint in her eyes, like she already know what's transpired.

"You know something very ironic, actually? Violet has told me her son has been acting the same and I thought to myself, what an odd coincidence. My daughter and your son.... it couldn't be" She chuckled, gently removing some pins from your hair. So he had been as miserable as you were, interesting. A part of you should have felt sorry for him but most of you felt smug for the poor bastard. He did cause it.

"You know Mama, I do so hate how you are best friends with Ms Bridgerton" You huff as she lets out another laugh.

"Oh hush. What is the matter, dearest? The scowl on your face doesn't suit you" She gently nudges you and you look down at your hands, clasping your fingers together trying to phrase your next words carefully.

You were so comfortable telling your mother such personal things because she had also lived them. She always wanted you to be honest and open with her, you truly had the best mother a woman could ever ask for.

She only wanted your happiness above everything else and when your father died, not only did she take his role and perform it better but she never once pressured to the shackles of marriage even though there was a line of suitors waiting for your hand in marriage.

Though it was improper of a lady to reject a man's proposal, you just didn't see the interest or the point in pretending when you knew deep down you only yearned for him.

"It's Anthony! God he is so insufferable. One minute he acts like a sweet charming gentleman and the next? Like I do not exist to him! I swear Mother, he has nothing but the audacity" Your arms are tightly crossed against your chest as she runs her fingers through your hair with her soft fingers.

"Perhaps-" She begins but the words spilled from your lips and you were unable to reel them back.

"And to top it all off, he has the utter nerve to look at me like I'm the scum under his shoes. Me??" You exhale rather irritably, anger boiling deep inside of you coursing through your veins.

"Darling perhaps not all is what it seems to be?" She suggests and you snort in amusement, shaking your head.

"Oh? I suppose he's going to proclaim his undying love for me and sweep me off my feet? You watch too many of those romance movies, mama" You stand up, brushing yourself off

"Nothing wrong with a little love" Your mother smiles, handing you the clips from your hair.

"If love wasn't such a fickle thing, I might agree too. Goodnight mother"

•••

Clank, clank, clank

Tossing around in your bed, you bury your head under the pillow to hopefully muffle that horrid sound. But it's will is impenetrable and soon enough you're wide awake

"What is that?!" You scowl irritably, removing yourself from the comfortable confines of your bed covers. You warily pad over to your bedroom, the rain making it absolutely hard to see anything. Another stone rams against your window, making you jump a little in fear. Your fingers curled around a hairbrush, ready to throw at your attack. It wasn't the asbestos weapon choice but anything could make a difference.

As you looked over however, there beheld a sight you thought you'd never see

"Anthony?? What are you doing?" You whisper yelled, quickly looking around to see if there was a maid or a servant nearby that spotted you both. But noticing none, you set your gaze at the eldest Bridgerton. He wore a long dark blue coat but that hadn't stopped the rain from seeping in and sticking his white shirt to his toned body. His hair is flattened, drenched and you could only imagine the rest of him. He somehow looked.... adorable here.

"I had to see you. I apologise for my behaviour over the past couple days-"

"If you think I'm going to forgive you just as easily, then you're sorely mistaken, my lord. Goodnight" You dismiss him with a wave of your hand but just as you're trying to close the window, he throws another rock at the glass. It shatters and he gasps, quickly calling out your name in worry in fear he's cut you. And when he knows that you're okay, he calls out again.

"I'll repair that. I deserve all the coldness, I do. But I know now what I want and that is you. I cannot leave without telling you this" He takes a deep breath, fond memories replaying on his mind. It gave him enough courage to do what he was going to do next.

"You have plagued my thoughts more times than I can possibly count, I truly cannot think of any greater happiness than to be with you all the time, without interruption, endlessly. Even though I feel that here in this world there is no undisturbed place for our love. Neither in this ton or this world. But so long as you are with me, I don't care where we are. And should you not reciprocate my feelings then I will leave you in peace. But know my heart is yours, it was always. I apologise its taken me so long to come to terms with that" His heart is racing, fidgeting as he lays his heart bare.

Yet his eyes never once break contact with yours, his knuckles turning white around the flowers for you.

Every passing second fills the viscount with dread but he's determined to stand there until he hears your answer. Nobody has managed to capture his heart as you've done. Being vulnerable came with being uncomfortable and awkward but he would do it over and over to show you how serious he was about you.

And there you were by the broken window, your heart feeling it had dropped to the darkest depths of your stomach. Those words you wished and wished for him to say finally rang true but now when he said it, you didn't know how to react.

Fear filled your heart, Anthony Bridgerton was a desired man by many. He was young and good looking, many other women wanted to be with him but he wanted you. How could you trust that he wouldn't get bored of you after a week?

How could you be sure he wouldn't leave you alone while he chased more pleasurable pursuits?

A crash of thunder snaps you out of your thoughts and you look at the gentleman again. He's waiting for you to speak, mouth slightly parted apprehensive of your word. But you cannot possibly convey whatever you need to with such a large distance between yourselves.

"I... I'm coming down!" You call out, heart thundering when you turn away from the window. Throwing a shawl around your shoulders, your eyes dart around for anything else. An umbrella, perhaps? But it's somewhere buried in the abyss of your closet and the viscount is waiting for you, oh so eagerly.

So you practically ran down the stairs, into the open night to see him standing there with a beautiful display of your favourite flowers. They were beginning to fall due to the impact of the rain but majority of them stood tall.

"You look absolutely beautiful" He comes close, handing you your rightful flowers as you roll your eyes.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, my lord" You lean and try to smell the flowers but his scent fills your nostrils instead. Oh how you've missed him terribly these past weeks, you could've hit him for putting you through all that. But now standing a few feet away, you only want to bury yourself in his arms and never leave.

"I've said what I needed to say, but know this... I love you Y/N" His words catch you off guard and your breath hitched, eyes wide like you didn't hear it at first properly. But his smile tells you all that you need to know, he really said it.

"And what if you're.... lying?" Your voice has dropped to a whisper, the playful demeanour you once donned was now dropped, revealing your true fears. You so badly wanted to accept his proposal but you needed his reassurance, that he needed you as much as you needed him. Your thoughts that were going mile a minute now quieted when his hand came up to cradle your jaw. Making you look deep in his eyes that show the true sincerity behind his words.

He's not leaving you until you want him to

Anthony's thumb brushes over your lips, sending a shiver running down through you. It could have been blamed on the cold weather and the rain pelting on you both but the fire ignited inside of you warmed your whole body through and through. This whole moment, the way he came to you, the way water droplets cascaded down his body, his touch upon you, all of it mentally burned in your head. You knew you'd never forget this.

"I will lie forever then, my lady" He whispers and your heart thumps wildly against your chest. You look at him, the desire so clearly evident swirling inside and who were you to deny such a request? Your hand comes up to meet his, stroking the back of his hand tenderly.

It was just you and Anthony. Not the honourable cold hearted viscount, no, just your Anthony. The one who stole your affection, the one that did all these silly little things to win you over even though your heart was always his. His head leans in ever so slightly and yours lean upwards, your lips but a hair away from each other.

So close and yet so far.

"Ahem!" A voice cuts through, paired with familiar chuckles.

"Mother?!" Anthony gasps and you eye the other two figures, stuttering when you found them giggling at the two of you.

"Mama?? Lady Danbury??" You both jump apart as the three women come in your vision, with an umbrella over their heads. You shoot a look at Anthony who shares an equal confused and bewildered look.

"You must know nothing gets by me" Lady Danbury smirked, nodding to the women by her. They each chuckled at their respective children, stepping forwards.

"I don't know if I should be rather angry at you breaking my windows..." Your mother glances at your bedroom, noticing the shards of glass shining under the moonlight. Anthony winces, a grimace as he looks up and then back upon your mother.

"Or simply be happy because we've been waiting for this moment for so long" She clasps her hands together, smiling at you two with so much joy. It makes you almost teary eyed, your mother truly was a gem.

"It makes this all so worthwhile, does it not?" Violet smiles at you both, a hand over her heart. Her eyes drifts over to her son, happiness practically beaming out of her. For so many years he had swore off love, refusing to ever put himself and someone in a position like that. At some point, she even began questioning if he would ever let someone inside his heart. Then you came and rocked his world upside down. And she wouldn't change it for the world.

"Ms L/N I am terribly sorry-" Anthony begins but your mother shakes her head, not an ounce of anger painted on her features.

"Forgive us, I do believe we've disrupted an intimate moment" She chuckles knowingly, looking at her companions

"I think I hear a cup of tea calling our names, what do you say ladies?"

"Please, with those delightful biscuits" Violet smiles, lacing her arm with your mother while Lady Danbury holds the other.

"Then tea it is. Might I add to the young couple to make their way inside otherwise they'll catch their death out here" She nods at you and the trio gossip the whole way to the kitchen leaving you and Anthony alone once more.

He glances at you again, taking your hand in his. They're so warm, compared to the cold air the envelopes you around. His gaze settles on your hands, his finger gently smoothing over your ring finger.

"I want to marry you Y/N. These past couple days were a reminder that I cannot live without you. You are, quite simply, the love of my soul" He kisses the back of your hand, stroking your knuckles with his thumbs. A surety rose in you, lodged in your throat. You'll never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he'll let you

"I can't promise you'll have an easy wife" You chuckle softly as your head rests upon his chest, directly on his heartbeat.

Soft and persistent, underlying everything.

He laughs a little, shivering as he brings you closer. His lips pepper the sweetest of kisses to the crown of your head, ever so slightly rocking the pair of you side to side.

"I wouldn't have fallen for someone I thought couldn't misbehave, my love"

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader fanfic #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader fluff #bridgerton family

175 notes · View notes

facesblind · 5 months

Text

𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗢'𝗦 𝗜𝗚𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦, 𝗕𝗨𝗧 𝗜𝗧 𝗜𝗦 𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬 𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗔𝗟 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗛𝗜𝗠 𝗧𝗢 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦. the grief and hatred, screams and tears — fate lets him get it all out, awaiting the moment it would be best to speak.

it's the price of being a genius — never being understood. that's on her, though. she could've phrased it better. explained better. it's also on her for pinocchio to not catch up with what she says and does — he is hers creation, after all.

❝ you put a lot of words in my mouth, nocchio. ❞ she begins with her face blank as always, a canvas empty of any emotions; not a curl of her lips not a frown of her brows; not a glimmer in the lifeless grey orbs she has for eyes. ❝ by now, you should be aware — i had no knowledge about all this. my story was just that, a story. free will is what created this place, these events — theirs, and yours. ❞

fate offers what she can — a shrug, a sigh — with little to no compassion in the voice of hers. it's like standing in front of her own negative, her own colors — behaviors, thoughts, words — inverted. she sees someone capable of things she is not capable at all, and she has to think if she even cares for it. does it hurt, for her, when she sees someone she could be but never was? and if she has to ponder upon it, doesn't that mean she has no feelings towards it anymore?

❝ i created a rough sketch. it grew, it's that simple. i had no intentions for hurting you whatsoever. ❞

genuine. she does sound like she means it.

❝ you wish to be humane, so there you have it; to have humanity is to be hurt, neglected, hated and shunned. it is to cry, be angry and mad. you're free, nocchio. you, me, they all. it is not my choosing for them to inflict all this upon you. ❞

she takes a step, a careful and slow one. she means no harm as she opens her arms and gathers the marionette, closing him in a gentle embrace. oh, such irony — she's smaller, her body's weaker, more fragile.

❝ would you trade it all for indifference? emptiness? would you rather lose your love and happiness? your heart and soul? ❞

she only suspected pinocchio's cries by the tone of his voice, but now she feels his tears; wipes them with her thumb, caresses his cheek in a gesture so full of affection, it's almost like it's not fate at all.

he clings to her like his life depends on it and she strokes his hair, kisses his forehead, holds him tight — all his parts, for him to not fall into pieces.

❝ the audience loves a heartbreaking story, nocchio. but they also love a happy ending. let's make sure yours is exactly that, shall we? ❞

unprompted: why did you make me hated and shunned from the beginning? why'd you create something even you turned away from in disgust? what did i do to deserve your hatred from the first day i remember? @legionarm for pinocchio.

#legionarm #verse : [ alice in wonderland ]#please #it's so soft #i can't

1 note · View note

senslessblackness · 10 months

Text

My beloved,

Should I even start by saying that these words might not be able to properly convey my emotions and thoughts? It's better to put it in absolute terms and state, as a matter of fact, that words and phrases will fall short to assist me in what I would like to tell you. See, how horrible I am, that I already need to ask for your forgiveness, for my idiosyncratic way of beginning, and my strange addiction in pointing out the shortfall of these feeble words - no doubt, a metaphor for my own shortfall, my own feebleness.

Because this is not a letter in which I profess my eternal love for you, and I ask, beg and cajole you to reciprocate. No, this is not about that. I do adore you with all my heart, but how could I ask you to do the same to me? Firstly, because I might feel this way now, I do not see the future, I cannot trust time, I am not a friend of time, for he surprises me regularly, often in the crueles ways, and so I cannot profess my eternal faith to you, no matter the temptation and assurance I feel in this moment. This moment is capricious, fleeting and particular, and love should be stable, lasting and universal, shouldn't it?

Secondly, could I say that, if I could call you mine, I would feel as if the most precious stone in the whole entire world came into my possession, and I would cherish it, worship it, give my eternal thanks for it to the sky? Yes, I could. And it would be true, and I would dig deep into my soul, and whatever I would find, I would offer to you on a silver platter, to do with it as you wish.

But no matter, because love, true love, ought to be reciprocal, and I am terrified to be the handler of your deepest being, for I would be forever fearful of doing some kind of damage to it, corrupting it, or even ruining it.

And further, as I already see you as the peak of creation, as a Goddess on Earth, how could I ask you, how could I expect you, you, to love me, to put up with me, to learn my peculiar ways and accept them, to see them not as flaws but various shines of another diamond, or sapphire, or ruby, perhaps? How could I ask you to love me? How could I ask that of you, when I know myself, not fully, but enough that I am aware of so many imperfections that it would even be a folly trying to count them, so much so that I could only ever see myself as an imperfection incarnate, as a broken being, who might be cured by true, pristine, unconditional love… but no… the risks are too high, and I cannot let anyone take the chance, especially you, my most loved, because what if instead of you lifting me up, it would be me dragging you down, taking away the gleam and splendor and introducing you to a kind of murkiness, kind of obscurity and darkness that would compromise you forever? It's simply not worth the risk.

So you see, I talk much about myself, and little about you, and that's because this is not a writing to convince you to be with me, no, this here is a justification, a warning, a confession for why you should never consider me as your other half. It would be an undertaking where any positive outcome would be far from certain, and maybe if I was a braver man, I would invite you to dance this dance of life with me, but as I am, I'd rather let you go, for I have no doubt that you are very capable of finding love elsewhere, with someone else, who's not perpetually tormented by thoughts of all kinds, like I am.

But in the case that you would rather take the chance, in case that you would take this huge gamble, in case, perhaps, that you already do love me, and what I wrote thus far was not the distinguishing of a small candlelight, but the fanning of a forest fire, you will know where to find me, and I will be the happiest man on Earth if I ever saw you there. But if not, of which I'm almost certain, I can only send you my warmest wishes, express my true desire that you do find the kind of love that is so rare in this wretched world, and hope (perhaps I shouldn't write this) that if there is life after death, and our souls will go on living truly eternal lives, that we may cross paths again, perhaps during a time when I'm less conflicted, less anguished, less self-conscious, and then maybe, just maybe, something magical might happen to you and I, because however hard I try, I cannot deny my feeling of longing towards you, to be in companionship with you, for the possibility to explore all the hidden things in you and if I was presented with the challenge of experiencing the darker side of you, the side that you try to hide, but is there nonetheless, I would say yes, yes, a thousand times yes to the opportunity to be there for you, however hard it might be, until we don't think in terms of "You" and "I", but in terms of "Us", and although our individuality would never be lost, we would finally not be alone in a world so large and strange, frigthening and alien, no, we would be together to face the challenges that would inevitably come… but right now, it is me who writes these meager words to you, and I don't know what to add, I don't know how to express myself better, and I don't feel that any addition would contribute anything meaningful to anything, so, here it is, my letter to You.

#love #loveletter #foreverlove

1 note · View note

inviouswriting · 4 years

Text

Memories

This follows 5.3 lore. So if you are not caught up in it, avoid this story please.

Spoilers.

Aymeric x Kiya.

Characters - Kivera, Aymeric, Kiya, Mentions of the polyship with Shuri. @maiden-born-in-snow

Kiya had to have answers, about what her life was. When she explained what she had learned to Aymeric, he only embraced her. His feelings did not change at all, learning her life before.

The question was, what was her life before she was brought to The Source. She had approached Divinity, with questions the Libra spirit could not answer.

“I’m sorry, those are questions for Kivera. I can’t talk about them, without her around, or in general because it might break taboo.” Divinity answered enough to explain. Kiya had more questions, but the Libra spirit smiles.

“She’ll be glad to answer you though. I think you earned to know.” Divinity then goes into the house she shares with the rest. To talk to the reaper. She was found cocooned in her wings. Divinity pets her black wing then right to have her rouse up.

“Hm?”

“Kiya, wants to know. Ever since she has learned where she came from. She feels lost.” Kivera sits up at this and knew eventually she would have to explain and maybe give her a glimpse of her former life. Kivera dresses in a flash of her magic and wanders out to greet the miqo. Kivera softens her eyes seeing her.

“I’ll answer everything tonight. I do have a requirement though, to pray to your deity at both statues. I’ll meet you at Thal’s around midnight.” Kivera had to give a condition, before she opened up doors.

Kiya nods and sets about the trip for the spots in Thanalan. Kivera watches her teleport, and folds her arms under her chest while Divinity hugs her from behind.

“You’re getting better at not denying others.” Kivera shrugs Divinity off only to be snared by her and lifted up to be carried at her waist with a few flails from her.

“I swear you chose that form so you can do this!”

“Maybe, I also like how some outfits look. But lifting you and Shuri has become a favorite. I see why Ardbert, and Estinien enjoy it the same. How do you think she’ll take the information?” Divinity sits with Kivera starting to pet her head, fingers weaving into dark hair.

“She’ll take it like anyone who has had their memories taken. She’ll be confused. However, it benefitted this realm greatly. Having memories of your life before can end up causing conflict. What if she had remembered what her calling was. Even with her defecting their cause. It only took a stray thought and this world would have died.” Divinity nods her head as she listens. They’ve witnessed realms that died, together. Worlds, and dimensions. Kivera being their reaper, she’s seen the grief on her face when faced with dying worlds.

“You did a good thing.” Divinity sits with her overlooking The Mist’s shores.

“You think so?”

“Your bits of interferences have helped. I know you guided her hand against that necromancer. I’ve seen you angry before, but to channel that through her? Preventing liches and catastrophes from them. I know you do good. Even if the world scorns you for what you do.” Kivera thinks Divinity’s words over, and sees a glimpse of the woman who she sat with on the burning pyre return her gentleness. The first and only time they had touched in the physical realm was Divinity’s own death.

“I think someone who takes away someone’s suffering as they burned to death isn’t someone to be hated.” Divinity adds on. Kivera shifts her form a bit to the one she keeps hidden under the disguises.

“You do have a way with words, you’ve been hanging around Ardbert a little much.” Kivera comments, and is met with another smile.

“He’s full of insights. Still doesn’t know in depth of what we are and what we do. We’ve let him glimpse our pasts, but not our reasons.” Divinity hears Kivera sigh and feels her nod against her shoulder.

“Eventually. For now, I need to right one who doesn’t know herself.” Kivera disentangles herself from Divinity and goes about to prepare her end of giving some memories back.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Divinity offers.

“Nah, This is best done by myself. Keep Shuri comfortable.” Kivera goes back into the house to gather things she needs.

Kiya had returned to Ishgard to tell Aymeric she will be home late. She is met with a soft smile and him wishing her to stay safe. Kiya got lost in his eyes when he coaxed her to join him for a little enjoyment in his office.

When she returned to her home, she found a box left on the bed from Kivera.

“Wear this at the statue of Thal, I’ll know when you have completed the prayers.” Kiya sets off and goes to Nald’s Respite statue first. She kneels before the statue in prayer and respect.

One of the few things she and Aymeric don’t cross is their beliefs. He remains devoted to Halone, while she is faithful to hers in Nald’Thal. She had long since remained faithful to him before she met Aymeric. Such being the way Black Mage are. Instilled from Thaumaturges guild’s teaching.

Kiya stops before she approaches the final statue, and dons the unique attire. She looks herself over in the reflection of water. Her hair worn down in the way Kivera instructed her to wear it. Kivera nods once she sees her exactly how she wants the mage to look.

“Good, now the memories. I apologize for taking those. They were payment for revival. There is a unique balance to keep in the underworld. While you can be spared from a fate, something does need to be taken to cushion it. It’s a bit complicated.” Kivera begins with telling her about the exchange.

“I’ve come to terms with that part.. it’s trying to remember a part of you..” Kiya begins and Kivera nods.

“I understand that. I’ll give you the chance to see and know that former self. I do however want to pose a question. Aren’t you happy with the way things are now?” Kivera asks, and sees Kiya’s eyes light up.

“I am happy with how things are, yet I want to know.” Kivera smiles and steps back to give her, at least her name. Her voice coming out as a double echo.

“Solaris. Ricorda.” It is a simple phrase, and one that has her remembering. Everything up to the fall of the star of the 14th. How she chose to leave, how she witnessed the last days, she had fallen the creature Therion. From there plucked from the aether by Hydaelyn and given a new life. Her form itself she couldn’t recall except like every other Amourtine. She notices her own appearance resembles the reaper before her, slightly altered. Then every memory from there on was what she knew.

“My form, that was your doing?” Kivera nods.

“Just a smidge of my likeness. But everything else is all your own. Memories, friends, loved ones, children, those you’ve protected, those you’ve lost. The memories you have now, those you fought for. If you had remembered that former life, would you have followed the same path as now?” Kivera questions, and moves to press her forehead to Kiya’s. A simple gesture.

“We’ll never know that answer, for it didn’t happen.” Kiya smiles though in her answer. She knows. Kivera knows. They can’t rewind the time. Not with what they’ve done already.

“Do you have any regrets?” Kivera asks.

“No, none. Just glad to know my name. Solaris. If I have any more children, it might fit for a son maybe.” Kivera places a finger over her own lips as hers are sealed.

“I can’t tell you anything more. You should get back to your husband now.” Kiya eyes her wearily, then shakes her head. Kivera takes her home, and Kiya takes the offered hand.

“Is it true you have such a dislike for people that raise the dead?” Kiya asks, and Kivera glances to her.

“You felt my rage right? At that necromancer? That is your answer. There is no good from people who raise the dead for their own means. They start innocent, but quickly lose themselves to madness. Like your friend Edda, whose scythe you wear so proudly on your back. Or those that have stained Tam-tara deep with their ill magic. You’ve seen their madness. What it does. Such in Dusk Vigil with the frozen in time soldiers who were kept alive through ill magic too.” Kiya nods.

“Underworld beings, such as myself are death bringers. We obey that. Anything that abhors that nature shouldn’t be celebrated. The acolytes, the white mages, those that have the blessing to revive someone who freshly fell before the soul leaves. They’re different, but even they can’t revive what is truly lost to the aether. I’m sure if you take the white robes you would understand more in depth to that difference. But those who use bodies are defilers and need to be ended.” Kiya nods at the end of her words. Kivera stays with Kiya till she is on the steps to her home with Aymeric.

Aymeric stands in the doorway, he waited for his love to be returned to him. He regards the ethereal being with a look of reverence. Kivera flits out like smoke as if she was never there. Kiya turns to Aymeric and is guided under his arm inside, to get much rest and spend the night better with him. It has been a few months after Alyse came into the world, and Edmont took their daughter to give the two a night to themselves.

So Kiya could get answers about herself.

Kivera returns to her lovers. She makes a face to herself as the spots next to Divinity and Shuri was taken up by Ardbert. Leaving the space between Shuri and Estinien open. She opts for that spot, not without first planting ice cold hands on Estinien’s back. The dragoon jolts from the cold, but only eyes Kivera and pulls her between him and Shuri. Letting her wrap her arms around her and pulling her closer.

“ Non desidero mai prendere nessuna delle vostre anime.” She murmurs a protection spell.

#Kiya Shinikami #aymeric x kiya #Kivera siverstein #Divinity Libra #shuri fontaye #Kivera and kiya #mentions of Alyse in here #Kiya's lore #The phrase there should be I wish to never take any of your souls.

8 notes · View notes

loafslibrary · 2 years

Text

Burn - Bruno Madrigal X Reader (Part 2)

Part 1

Word count:

5960 words

Description:

Alma approaches the Ruiz family in the market about Bruno’s vision of his and their daughters marriage.

It doesn’t go well to say the least.

But when all hope is lost, the family are visited by the last person they expect to see.

Her...

Theme/Category:

Slow burn, angst, romance, star-crossed lovers?, pining

Warnings:

Sexual/+18 content mentioned and to come in later chapters, judgemental family members, profanity, mentions of pregnancy.

Authors Note/s:

Thank you so much for the support of the first chapter! I’m having so much fun writing this! Now that I am taking my time to write these and I’m not sticking to a schedule I’m very happy with how my writing is now!

Also, I have set up a ko-fi ( Ko-fi.com/loafslibrary ) if you would like to donate/tip me for my work. It is never expected, but it will always be appreciated!

Previously mentioned: I’m not Colombian, so I apologise if I get any phrases or cultural points wrong, I have tried my best and done research while writing theses chapters, but if anything is wrong I do apologise.

Reader in this uses she/her pronouns and is AFAB

- 🍞

Eye meets in that short instant

The moment all senses stop

Little tremors spread inside me

For the first time I am swallowed by the feeling

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

Mi Mariposa,

I can still remember the first time I saw you. How I’d thought I’d gone to heaven, because Infront of me was an angel. Someone so perfect, I was sure I wasn’t worthy of your love. Even now I must question if I truly deserve someone as special as you.

How I long to have you in my arms, to kiss you. I wish to be by your side every second of every day just in order to bask in your beautiful glow. Mi vida, you have no idea how much my soul yearns for you.

You make me feel as though I’m living in a dream. A dream I never wish to wake up from.

I wish to have you here with me now, so I could tell you this in person.

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

The extended olive branch of peace hadn’t gone as smoothly as the family had hoped.

When Alma originally approached the family in the market with the proposal of an arranged marriage between their daughter and Bruno, Santino Ruiz had almost lost his cool.

“So, now our family name is good enough?”, he had scoffed, not even looking the woman in the eyes. Sofía, his wife, had smacked his shoulder, scolding him to at least be civil with the woman after everything they had done for their community.

“I’m sorry Alma, my husband-“, she began to stutter out apologies. Sofía was a sweet woman. She always had been. It just so happened that the man she had fallen in love with wasn’t.

“It’s okay Sofía, I understand that I’ve hurt him in the past”, she soothed, taking the smaller woman’s hands in her own with an understanding smile. The slightly younger woman smiled back as a silent thank you, her eyes wrinkling at the corners as age had begun to catch up with her youthful looks, while her husband tutted and looked the other way. Alma remembered her from before the Encanto, before her and Santino had married. She had always been the quiet and shy type growing up. Alma remembered how Sofía had looked up to her; asking how the older girl thought she should style her hair, doing the same activities as her, always staying close by at any festivals.

“So, why our daughter?”, She asked.

“My Bruntio used his gift and had a vision. The vision showed him marrying your daughter and the two of them living a beautiful life together”. Sofía swooned at the news, the whole idea already sounding more romantic than anything she had ever heard. “The vision promised prosperity, good health, grandchildren-“, Sofía audibly gasped, a wide smile spreading across her lips. This sounded like a fairy tale to her; her daughter marrying into the most powerful family in the Encanto, the pair being happy and showered in blessings, it was more than she could have ever asked for. For her daughter to live a happy and healthy life. What Alma was saying had completely captivated her, so much to the point where she hadn’t even noticed her husband’s building rage until it was too late.

“I will not have your son dirtying our bloodline!”, he spat, standing tall over the two women. “That boy is a bad omen. I highly doubt he saw all these things in his vision. It’s probably all just a lie to get someone to marry him, since no one else wants to marry that pendejo”. Alma flinched in shock and Sofía’s eyes widened at her husband’s comment.

“Santino! Don’t say that! You’re making a scene”.

“Escúchame Sofía, what can that boy offer her? She would be limited in life if she married him! And should they have children- No lo permita dios- They would be every bit as much of a freak as their father!”. The man’s shoulders were tense, his breaths heavier than usual, clearly and truly bothered by this conversation. He took his wife gently by the elbow and began to guide her away from the market and the matriarch of the Madrigals.

“They are not freaks, Santino. Their gifts are blessings! Look at our community! Look at what they’ve all done for us!”, Sofía pleaded for her husband to open his eyes, gesturing around them at the bustling community. “We are thriving thanks to the Madrigals”.

“And how has Bruno helped?”, he snapped back. His wife wouldn’t often stand up to him, but she knew in her mind and in her heart that he was wrong.

“He has helped to keep us safe and out of danger with his visions! He has allowed us to spend time with our loved ones when there wasn’t much time left! And now he has told Alma that there is a possibility for our daughter to have the honour of being part of their amazing family! So why can’t you open your heart and forgive the past-”, Sofía then flinched as her husband stood in front of her, blocking their path and glowering down his nose at her.

“Don’t you dare insult me like that!”. This now caused some others at the market to turn their head, wanting to know what this sudden outburst was all about. Sofía couldn’t blame them, it was a small village and people wanted something to talk about. Noticing this, Santino cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “We’ll discuss this when we get home Sofía, I don’t want the whole Encanto listening in on our conversation”. With that, he left and began walking in the direction of their house.

Sofía’s shoulders slumped forward in defeat. She turned to Alma with sad apologetic eyes. “Alma, lo siento. I wish he would learn-…”, she sighed, rubbing her eyes in irritation, attempting to distract herself from the drama that had just unfolded.

“It’s okay Sofía. Brunito’s prophecies always come true. I’m sure he’ll come around eventually”, Alma’s eyes met the other woman’s finally. They exchanged a silent thank you to one another; Sofia’s being a thank you for extending such an offer to her daughter and their family, Alma’s being a thank you for someone other than her familia standing up for Bruno for once. “Give him time, Chica”. The younger mother nodded, and with that, the two went their separate ways.

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

I can’t go back to the way it was

You didn’t know me, After I bumped into you

I become craving you more,

Uncontrollably

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

It had been three days.

Three days since that fiasco with the Ruiz family.

The Madrigals had noticed a few murmurs and whispers throughout the Encanto of a possible engagement involving the youngest of the triplets. Nothing scandalous, nothing more than ripples in their calm ocean. Yet they all still hoped that those ripples didn’t grow into waves, or anything worse.

Bruno had reverted back to his usual self, that flicker of hope that he was so desperately clinging onto, the flicker of hope that Julieta and the rest of the family wanted to see ignite into something more, was now burning out. For the past two days he hadn’t left his room other than to eat. He had two visitors the other day, asking for visions. One left after noticing the number of stairs leading to where the male resided, and the other left more confused than when they had entered. That had been the only communication Bruno had had with the outside world since the incident.

“I can’t say I’m surprised”, Pepa lamented as she sipped her espresso, a small grey cloud forming over her head. The two couples of the family were sat outside enjoying the sunshine while they had the chance. “I just knew Santino wouldn’t give him a chance”, she muttered into her cup.

“I thought you didn’t want him to pursue the Ruiz, yet you’re sounding a little disappointed Pepa”, Agustín pointed out with a teasing grin, pushing his glasses up his nose to prevent them from slipping of his face and into his own drink.

“Because I knew this would happen”, she corrected him, taking another sip of her drink. “This is the last thing Bruno needs right now”.

“Chico’s been even quieter than usual” Félix joined the conversation, a scowl settling across his brows, which looked out of place on his usually happy features. “I tried talking to him about it all, but he insisted he was okay and to not worry”. Félix shook his head. Despite not being a blood relative and finding the younger man a little unsettling at times with some of his visions, he saw Bruno as a younger brother. All he wanted was the best for him, like the rest of the family.

Pepa let out a groan of frustration and massaged her temples, eyes closed as she tried to focus on not creating a thunderstorm. “He may have ruined my wedding- and believe me, I will not let that go, but he is my brother. I still want him to be happy and the Ruiz family is not what will bring him happiness”. Julieta bit her lip in thought as she listened to her sister. Perhapse she was right? Maybe instead of encouraging this vision they should try to stomp it out. Brush it under the rug and pretend it never happened. But any time she thought of telling Bruno to ignore the vision and try to change fate, her heart clenched. The memories of how optimistic he had looks and how he had smiled when looking at the vision, as though he were already in love with the woman in the vison.

Agustín noticed his wife’s distress and gently too her hand in his own under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She looked over to him, noticing the love in his gaze that still gave her butterflies. “Bruno’s visions have never been wrong before. Perhaps we just need to give this one some time”, Agustín reassured the group. He always knew what to say to put Julieta’s nerves to rest.

“Let’s discuss something else”, Pepa waved her hand, signalling the group to move onto another topic. She was the one to usually determine how the conversations progressed out of fear of possibly flooding the Encanto with a down pour of rain or a sudden hurricane making its way through the village due to a bad conversation topic. “So, have the two of you thought about children yet?”, she asked, glancing between her sister and Agustín as she leant forward on the table, eager to hear their response. “You know how I’ve always wanted to be Tía Pepa”.

The couple exchanged glances, unsure on how to respond. They hadn’t given it much thought. For now, they were just enjoying being in love, being married. They were just enjoying their lives. Obviously, they had thought about children, and how could they not when Alma was so desperate to become an abuela. Yet, they were in no rush to have children. “Well, we’ve… thought about it”, Agustín chuckled awkwardly, feeling a little put on the spot with Pepa’s question. “Perhaps two or three would be nice”.

“We’ve also thought about three, maybe four”, Félix winked Pepa’s way, causing her to flush and the sun to shine brighter. Julieta couldn’t help but giggle at her sisters reaction to Félix’s goofy antics. Pepa was fanning herself in order to cool her flustered state when she spotted something out of the corner of her eye, and her jaw dropped.

It took a moment for the others to follow the woman’s line of sight, but before long their eyes also settled on what was causing the sister to stare slack jawed into the distance.

It was her. The woman from Bruno’s vision.

She herself was a vision and no one could deny that.

She wore a burgundy long skirt that was embroidered with red carnations with jade green stems, leaves and vines which fluttered elegantly in the breeze as she approached the casita. Her white shirt had matching green trimming with sleeves that came down to her elbows and she wore simple pearl drop earrings. She was prettier in person than in the vision.

“Is that-…”, Félix began, wanting to make sure he was seeing who he thought it was, and that he and the rest of the family weren’t having some sort of strange fever dreaming.

“That’s her”, Julieta stood up out of her seat, buzzing with excitement. What was she doing here? Was she here to see Bruno? She must be here to see Bruno! What else would she be here for?

The young woman’s attention turned from the castita to the family sitting on the patio, a little stunned to notice everyone staring at her.

So that’s why she had felt she was being watched.

It almost felt as though she were a main performer at a carnival. She cautiously made her way over to where the family sat at their table, fiddling with her fingers nervously as she grew closer and closer. “Hola, mucho gusto”, she greeted with a nervous smile. She could already feel her palms growing sweaty and her mouth going dry, and she couldn’t help but mentally curse for pushing herself into this situation. She noted the wide eyes and silence in response to her greeting, knowing she was probably the last person the Madrigals expected to see after hearing of her father’s outburst in the market. “I’m here to see Bruno, and possibly speak with your mother, Señora Alma Madrigal?”.

“A-Ah! Yes! Of course!”, Julieta stuttered out springing into action, quickly followed by the others who did the same, Agustín almost knocking over the table in the process. “Please, have a seat! We’ll fetch Bruno. Would you like anything to eat? Perhaps a drink?”, the eldest triplet offered as casita pulled out a chair for the lady. Before the Ruiz could respond, Julieta was already heading to the kitchen to retrieve some coffee for her.

Meanwhile, the others had sprinted into the home, looking as if they had all gone mad. “I’ll find Mamá. You two get Bruno. Vamos!”, Pepa ordered before the trio charged up their stairs and split off in separate directions; Agustín and Félix heading straight for Bruno’s tower.

The pair burst through the door, sending a loud bang echoing through the cave, causing the man they were searching for to practically jump out of his skin. “Bruno!”, they both yelled out, scrambling for the multiple flights of stone stairs. “Bruno!”, they continued to call, already panting heavily as they tried their best to make it up as many of the steps as they could, Félix falling behind slightly while Agustín charged full steam ahead. Finally, Bruno appeared at the top of the stairs, looking sick with worry, expecting the worst of news due to the state they were both in.

“Que esta pasando?”, he asked as he began to descend the stairs, being able to take multiple steps at a time due to making the same trip day in and day out. His body and muscle memory taking over on instinct to prevent him from slipping.

“She’s here! She’s here!- To see you!”, they panted heavily.

“Wait-wait-wait! Who’s here?”.

That was when he heard her name once again and he felt every one of his hairs stand on end, like an electric current was sent through his entire being.

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

As if I have dreamed in a dream

I’m lost looking for you

You are the dream I live in, the dream I can never awake from

Every day and night I’m gon’ chase you

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

From there, it felt like the three men were kicked into overdrive.

They all practically threw themselves down the stairs, eventually making it safely to the bottom. They threw open the door to Bruno’s room, getting temporarily stuck as they all attempted to squeeze through the doorframe at once in their over excited state. They hurried along the hall and down the stairs before Félix without warning grabbed Bruno by the hood of his ruana, causing him to choke slightly and to fall to the floor at the sudden halt of movement. “You can’t let her see you like that! You’ve got to look more presentable!”, he scolded and began to wrack his fingers through the others loose ringlets, causing the younger male to wince and yelp in pain, batting the other’s hand away.

“And what about those bags under your eyes?”, Agustín added, stroking his chin in thought, before trying to press his fingers into the skin under his eyes and massage the dark circles away. “Maybe this will help”, the thought out loud.

“You two aren’t helping”, Bruno grumbled, finally breaking free from his two brothers grasps.

“What are you three doing?”, Alma’s voice made their spines straighten, each of them turning to her and standing to attention like soldiers. “Brunito, you don’t want to keep her waiting”, she brushed a few curls out of his face before her hand rested on her son’s cheek before using a pout to point in the direction leading outside to where she sat with his sisters. Bruno smoothed out his clothes, having been practically tackled by his cuñados, before taking a deep breath and heading to where he could hear the group’s voices coming from.

Hers stood out to him instantly, like a glistening emerald pendant. He couldn’t even see her, yet he already found her perfect. Perhaps he was getting a little carried away. He needed to calm down. He took another deep breath, clenching and unclenching his hands in hopes to distract himself from his growing nerves. This only added to his nerves when he noticed how sweaty his hands had become. Why was he so sweaty? What if she wanted to hold his hand?!

As he made his way outside, he first noticed his sisters; Pepa leaning back in her chair, her eyes narrowed and her gaze intense as she stared down her nose at the other. She usually did this when talking to someone she disliked, yet she seemed to be giving her a chance, which Bruno would take as a positive any day of the week. Julieta on the other hand was chatting away, giggling and laughing, making small talk in order to make the newcomer feel welcome. She was always good at making others feel welcome- feel wanted, which was one of the many reasons why Bruno loved his sister.

And then he saw her. In the flesh. She was real.

Her eyes flited up and met his and he could feel his throat tighten, for a moment, he was breathless. The sun kissed her skin, highlighting all her features, every pore, every minor detail, and everything about her was beautiful. Everything felt surreal. It was like a dream. He didn’t expect to ever be face-to-face with the girl of his vision, his dream partner, or at least, this is who she was supposed to be.

The two stood in silence, both a little stunned finally being in each other’s presence, mouths slightly agape in shock as if one were about to say something but thought better of it.

This caused the family to smile; Julieta giggling softly as she looked over to her sister and mother in excitement, whereas Agustín nudged Félix, both of them laughing silently together as the fact that they had never seen their brother-in-law act this way around a woman. The Ruiz noticed the other’s reactions at the fact that they had just been gawking at each other in front of everyone, and quickly averted her gaze with a crimson blush spreading across her cheeks. Noticing her flustered state though only made Bruno’s heart race.

“Ay dios, eres tan hermosa”, he foolishly forgot himself and muttered under his breath, only for it to be his turn to flush a deep red as he realised, he had said that out loud. Thankfully, it seemed to be quiet enough for no one else to hear.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, dear”, Alma took the lead in the conversation since it currently seemed as though her son couldn’t string a sentence together in his dazed state. Each member took a seat at the table, purposely leaving the seat next to the Ruiz open for Bruno. He quickly sat himself down upon noticing the rest of the family doing so, glancing to his side to catch a glimpse of her. He didn’t want to be rude or stare, but he couldn’t help but want to look at her. “I’m assuming you’re hear about the engagement!”, Alma urged on the conversation.

Bruno swallowed thickly, his Adams apple bobbing with the motion, and he tried to breathe as evenly as he could. He didn’t want to appear nervous, but right now he couldn’t stop the subtle bouncing of his leg that was giving him away. He was glad this was hidden beneath the table, out of sight. Though he didn’t seem to be the only anxious one at the table. Glancing over to his side, he noticed the Ruiz’s hands clutching and fiddling with her skirt. It was just out of sight of everyone else, but knowing she felt the same was somewhat comforting. He knew he was not alone.

“Ah, yes. The engagement”, she began softly, with a small smile. “First of all, I would like to apologize for my father’s behaviour”. Upon hearing this, Pepa’s eyebrows shot up to the point the family thought they would end up in her hairline. “What he said was unkind to say the least and I want you to know that it was unacceptable and I’m sorry for him acting in such a way”.

“A Ruiz apologising… I never thought I’d see the day”, Pepa mumbled to herself causing Félix to laugh and nudge her shoulder playfully, earning a gentle eyeroll and a small smirk in return. It was a silent ‘I may have been too quick to judge’.

“Ah, well, we appreciate and accept your apology”, Alma beamed, briefly looking to the rest of the family before turning her attention back to the woman next to her son. “And since you’re here, I’m assuming your father has agreed to your marriage?”, she asked, guesturing between the two.

“Well, not exactly…he’s still considering”, she confessed, looking down at the tablecloth, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone at the table. “But my mother has given her blessing”. Alma nodded her head, showing her understanding of the situation, the rest of the family just staring on in shock. “I guess today I’m hear because I would like to get to know Bruno a little better before we make any final decisions”, she stated clearly before finally turning to address the man next to her for the first time; “If that’s okay with you of course, Bruno”.

The way she said his name put him in a trance. He didn’t know his name could sound so sweet. His hazel eyes stared at her for a moment, forgetting that it was him who she was addressing, before blinking a few times to ground himself back into reality. “Oh! Me? - I mean- Of course!”, he stammered, offering a smile which his sisters picked up on. It wasn’t his usual sad or pained smile that they would often see while he tried to save face with the village people or the few times he was witnessing other’s good fortune in the visions they had asked for. This smile was like a breath of fresh air. It was shy. It was somewhat vulnerable. It was genuine.

Their guest couldn’t help the corners of her lips curling up to match Bruno’s expression, averting her gaze as she could feel her cheeks growing warm again.

Alma couldn’t say she was too pleased at the news of the two wanting to get to know each other before agreeing to their marriage. She was growing impatient as Bruno was nearing thirty and was still unmarried, as well as her still did not having a single grandchild weighing on her mind. But she would allow it. This vision showed the two being happily married together, so she was sure they would happily accept the marriage offer soon. “I don’t see why not. It will be good to spend some time together, to lessen the nerves before the engagement”, Alma agreed.

Upon hearing this, Bruno noticed Ruiz’s muscles relax, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly as she let out a breath she seemed to be holding for who knows how long. It was sweet. Somewhat endearing. He liked the fact that she wanted to actually know who he was, instead of making assumptions about him through the rumours and lies the Encanto told about him. It made him feel like she wanted to marry him for more than just the magic their children would inherit. Like she wanted to marry him for who he was. “So, tell me, what is it that you do in the Encanto? I’m aware your father builds houses for a living. I must say, your family’s home is very impressive”, Alma then interjected, steering the conversation back to how their marriage would benefit each other and the community.

“Well, from time to time I help design the layouts of the houses and help with the interior, but my true passion is the arts”, the young woman confessed, a little embarrassed as she knew her strengths weren’t necessarily seen as useful. Although Bruno’s ears perked up at the mention of this. “I love to paint murals for people in the community, I also like to write stories in my free time. During festivals I enjoy singing and dancing”, she began to ramble on, her very being practically glowing with love for her hobbies, before she caught herself, shrinking back a little as she worried that she was leaving a bad impression. “Ah, but they are just what I do when I’m not helping the family business”

“That sounds wonderful! You’re like a social butterfly with how you engage with the community”, Julieta complimented their guest, Alma nodding along in approval as she thought this possible newcomer to the family may help to bring Bruno out of his shell a little more. He had always been such a shy boy and with his gift and how the people of the Encanto spoke about him, it had only made him recede more into himself.

The Ruiz flashed a tight smile in response. “Muchas gracias. Although I do enjoy time to myself too. I believe it’s important to find a healthy balance between the two”.

“Such wise words. And how old are you?”, Alma continued with her questions, wanting to gain as much information on her son’s possible future bride. She wanted to guarantee that this vision Bruno had wasn’t false and that this engagement wasn’t going to be a waste of time. She wanted to know that this woman would be the perfect match for her son.

“I’m twenty-two”. Her response caused Bruno’s breath to catch in his throat for a moment. There was a six-year age gap. He didn’t mind so much. It could have been worse. But he couldn’t help his mind jumping ahead of time and thinking of how he would soon start to age. His hair would begin to grey, his skin would start to wrinkle, not to mention he already had bags under his eyes from multiple sleepless nights. He didn’t want to have to burden a beautiful woman like her with being with an older man. Perhaps she wouldn’t mind? She seemed interested in the engagement. “I’m surprised you haven’t married yet. Bruno, aren’t you surprised that a man hasn’t asked for her hand in marriage?”, his mother’s words brought him crashing back down to earth.

The table was watching him, eagerly awaiting his response. It was clear that his mother had noticed his lack of confidence and how he had barely said anything to the woman since she got here. The woman to his side’s cheeks began burning a deep shade of red. Which his own then seemed to match as he floundered to compliment her and make conversation.

“O-Of course I’m surprised”, the seer agreed with his mother, trying his best to look the woman in the eyes as he spoke. “I mean, you’re very beautiful. Any man would be lucky to call you his wife”, he mumbled, his heart pounding against his ribs as he dragged his fingers through his curls.

‘Pull yourself together Bruno! You’re a mess!’

His heart stopped for a second as he heard a soft, “And any woman would be lucky to call you her husband”, and then his heart practically melted.

‘Dios mio, ella es perfecto’

His mother and relatives smiled proudly at the simple interaction; Felix squeezed Pepa’s hand and gave her a nod of approval, signalling that he approved of the union, and Julieta looked to Agustín with a giddy grin of excitement. They were so excited, practically bursting with pride for Bruno. Upon noticing this though, Bruno could feel a knot forming in his stomach.

‘Don’t mess this up, Bruno’

Simple conversations continued to flow into the late afternoon. Questions on how the Ruiz planned to further help the community if she were to marry into the Madrigal family, how long did she think it would be until she could get the approval of her father, when the wedding should take place if the engagement were accepted, etc. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits as a warm sunset washed over the Encanto.

“Brunito, it’s getting late. Why don’t you walk our guest home to make sure she returns safely”, Alma suggested to which her son nodded in response with a tight smile, slightly nervous at the idea of being alone with the Ruiz daughter, but also relieved he would be able to speak to her without the pressure of his family watching. He was sure they could both do with five minutes away from everyone, where they weren’t on edge thinking every other question to come out of their mouth would be about how many children they wanted or his mother possibly commenting on how they should abstain from sex until marriage.

Alma stood up from her seat and made her way over to the two. She took the young woman by the hands and gently held them in her own. “You seem like such a sweet girl. I’m sure you would make my Brunito proud to call you his wife. I’m sure if your parents are to accept the engagement offer, you and my son with live a life full of blessings and prosperity”.

“Gracias Señora. Thank you all for being such generous hosts”, the Ruiz thanked the Madrigals before Bruno cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Let’s get you home, shall we?”.

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

I’m in love

I’m dreaming in a dream every night

I’m in love

I’m dreaming in a dream every night

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

The walk through the village was a little awkward to begin, both parties not knowing how to strike up a conversation with the other. They knew little to nothing about each other yet had this prophecy of their engagement looming over them. It was daunting to say the least.

As they walked through the streets, the Madrigal couldn’t help but notice the curious eyes that watched them from a distance. Whispers of surprise flitted in and out of earshot, talking about how they were surprised to see the two together, which only caused the seer to grow more tense… until a thought hit him.

He remembered Agustín mentioning that the woman liked the arts, as well as recalling what she had said at the table.

“So, you like the arts?”, he finally broke the lingering silence, which instantly captured her attention.

“Yes, I do”, she giggled a little awkwardly, feeling silly for talking about her passions but yet she was happy that one of them had finally decided to speak up, easing the tension that hung in the air. “Do you?”.

At this question, Bruno’s spirits began to rise. “Yes, I do. I love to write when I get the chance”, he explained with that genuine smile that seemed to grace his features a lot more frequently. “I enjoy singing and music too, although I am not the best. I’m not so good with dancing though. Perhaps I could be better with some practice”, he mumbled the last part. His sisters were beautiful dancers. Every festival, every party, they were dancing up a storm. Yet he seemed to be a little clumsier with his movements and often stuck to the side-lines. That or the moves just didn’t look right when he tried it.

“Perhaps I could help you with the dancing?”, she offered, which caught Bruno by surprise. “I’d also love to exchange stories with you and see how you write. I enjoy dramas, romances, horror and comedy”.

“That’s an interesting mixture”, Bruno noted with a small chuckle which she then seemed to mirror with one of her own. “And yeah… that sounds quite nice actually”.

Before long, the pair had reached the Ruiz house on the edge of the village.

“Well, here we are! La casa de Ruiz!”, he announced in a somewhat goofy tone, causing the other to laugh a little, and oh how her laugh was music to his ears.

“Thank you for walking me home, Bruno. I’m excited to learn more about you”, she revealed, playing with her hands nervously as she spoke, which Bruno then noticed he was mirroring her movements with his own hands, stopping once he noticed.

“I’m excited to learn more about you too…”, he trailed off, leaving them both standing in silence, not knowing what to say but desperately wanting to continue the conversation.

She began to turn towards the door to her home. “Well, I guess I’ll let you go-“.

“Would you like to see me tomorrow? I-I mean, would you like me to- I would very much like to see you again-“, Bruno cringed at his rambling. His mouth had begun moving before he could even truly think of what he wanted to say. He took a breath and tried to arrange his thoughts and think logically, but that was near impossibly when she was around. “Would you like to meet me tomorrow afternoon?”.

Bruno’s eyes met with her own once again and he felt- for a lack of better words- helpless. He wanted this to work, with every fibre of his being. He wanted to try for her. There was just something about her that made him want to try. She was so beautiful and gave off such a kind-hearted aura. He didn’t want to miss this opportunity.

He noticed how she bit her lip in thought for a brief moment before a smile graced her features once more. The sight of her smile gave him butterflies and he cursed himself, wondering if a man should fall for a woman so quickly.

“Yes, I’d actually really like that. Shall we meet buy the church just past mid-day?’, she offered with such a sweet tone to her voice, like honey, that Bruno felt as though he could completely fall in love with her at any second.

His heart began to hammer with excitement.

“Yes!”, he agreed a little too quickly. “I-I mean, that sounds great”, he added in a calmer tone, smoothing out his ruana as a distraction for his eagerness. The couple stared at each other for a moment, cheeks aglow and their nerves mixed with excitement struggling to be hidden.

“Perfecto! It’s a date!”.

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

Tag list: @simpingfortheratman @danny-devitowo

#bruno madrigal #bruno x reader #bruno madrigal x reader #encanto bruno #Encanto #Encanto x reader #disney encanto #encanto disney

145 notes · View notes

rocorambles · 3 years

Text

Until Death Do Us Part

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Sea Warlock!Akaashi, Mermaid Reader, Non-Con/Rape, Mind Control, Body Modification

Summary: As a little girl you’ve always dreamed of marriage, but maybe you should have been more careful of who you decided to exchange eternal vows with.

This is for @terushimooo's Aquatic August collab. Happy swimming~

You love Itachiyama, love waking up and seeing the endless sea of blue, love waving down at all the sea creatures, sirens, mermaids, and so much more who cheerfully greet you. You love Itachiyama and Itachiyama loves you, the citizens of your kingdom eagerly calling your name and shoving free samples of tasty food and merchandise in your hand as you swim by the marketplace, excited to interact with their favorite (and only) princess.

But as much as you genuinely love your realm, you’ve always been too curious for your own good, your sheltered life forcing your imagination to go wild as you listen intently to merchants and travelers from out of town who tell you about corners of the ocean and sea creatures you’ve never even heard of.

There’s a limit to how much pretty words and mental images can satisfy you and your cousins Sakusa and Komori roll their eyes and sigh when you begin to repeatedly try sneaking out from their protective watch, eager to experience what lies beyond the borders of your safe haven.

It’s a comic joint effort between the citizens, your cousins, and the royal guards as they all work to keep you as safe as they can. It becomes a game of sorts, one that they all begrudgingly begin to enjoy, and laughter fills the kingdom when citizens take turns cheering for you or your cousins as Sakusa and Komori rapidly swim after you, leaving ripples and bubbles in your wakes as your tails flick back and forth.

They’re hesitant to let you wander off on your own at first, the creatures of your realm and the palace guards begging you to at least let them accompany you when you’re insistent about exploring the surrounding areas. Sakusa scolds you, always dragging you back to the palace when you do manage to escape, although you hide your smile when you see how he wordlessly takes all your new discoveries from you and carries them back for you. Komori also nudges you back when he’s the one sent to find you, although he always lets you wander around for a while longer when he does locate you, indulging your whims before finally enticing you back home with the promise of a new seashell necklace, his treat.

But over time they begin to relax, just wishing you safe travels and exploring when they do see you ready to slip past the border, Sakusa and Komori reminding you not to stray too far and not to stay out too late when their schedules don’t permit them to leave with you.

You love meeting new people, exploring new towns, seeing the sights outside of the bubble you’ve grown up in. But novelty wears off and even the surrounding territories begin to become familiar to you, an old itch beginning to creep inside of you once again, a desire to see even more churning inside of you. And it’s that yearning inside of you that has you secretly wandering in a different direction one day, going far further than you’ve ever been before, leading you to Akaashi’s lair.

Akaashi sees you long before you even realize you’re in his territory and he’s intrigued to say the least. He can’t even count the number of greedy, selfish, desperate souls who’ve sullied his grounds, disgustingly groveling at his feet, whining for their wishes and desires to be granted. But you? You’re different. He can tell just by how unaware and genuinely curious you are as your eyes flit about the unknown area, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the site of different coral and species of fish you’ve never seen.

You’re not here for him. He’s sure you don’t even know exactly whose lands you’ve naively fluttered upon. And before he even realizes what he’s doing, his legs have transitioned into a mass of swirling tentacles, rocketing him towards your direction.

When’s the last time he’s talked to someone outside of the lowlife scum who begged and pleaded for his help? When’s the last time he was able to enjoy another’s company? The warmth of another’s body entwined with his?

There’s a painful tug at his heart when he sees how you tense at his presence, fear lacing your gaze when you connect the mass of glossy black tentacles on his lower half and his piercing blue orbs to his true identity.

It’s not hard to understand exactly who you’re face to face with, the rumors of the sea warlock’s appearance and reputation having spread far and wide. You’ve always been horrified by the stories you’ve heard. Maybe it’s because you’re far too simple-minded, far too easily satisfied as both your cousins fondly tease you about. But you can’t imagine wanting anything enough to give up your voice, your tail, your ability to love and laugh.

You know Akaashi only takes from those who seek his help, that you technically have nothing to fear. But you still cower in front of him, folding your tail in front of you and clutching it to your chest, a small silly part of you scared that he’d snatch it away from you.

The gesture makes Akaashi laugh and you stare wide-eyed at the handsome creature in front of you, your tail slowly flopping from your arms and floating freely as you let the lovely tinkle of his laugh echo around you.

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on taking your tail. Unless you’ve come here for me to grant a request?”

You furiously shake your head from side to side, still a little apprehensive as he sends a small amused smile your way. But as he continues talking, you can feel the tension ease from your body, your body matching Akaashi’s pace as he gives you a tour of his neck of the woods. He’s so well-spoken, a soothing tone to his voice that easily lulls you into a sense of peace as you eagerly listen to him tell you about the local wildlife and terrain.

He tells you stories of worlds and creatures you can’t even begin to fathom. He tells you of life above the waters and in the sky. And you find yourself returning back to him over and over again, although it would be a lie to say it’s purely out of a desire to learn more.

Your curiosity is as insatiable as always, but you get distracted more often than not when Akaashi speaks. You get lost staring at that striking face and into those gorgeous eyes. Your eyes glitter in awe as he effortlessly transitions between gracefully swimming upon a mass of tentacles to fluttering two human legs in the sea, appendages you’ve never seen before.

You’re falling fast and hard for the sea warlock and you don’t think there’s any going back.

Akaashi knows there’s no going back.

He’d fallen for you the second you had opened up to him, the moment you had seen him as just another creature to befriend instead of a wish given genie whose only purpose was to dole out wishes. And he’s not ignorant to the way your eyes wander across his figure, his face, how you badly try to hide your growing attraction to him.

So it only makes sense that he doesn’t resist temptation anymore now that he knows the feelings are mutual and he hungrily lets his tentacles wind around your waist, pulling you towards him so he can embrace you in his warms, closing his eyes in bliss as your barely covered torso presses against his own bare chest. One of his hands snakes to unclasp your seashell top while his lips devour yours, sighing at how sweet you taste.

But he grimaces in displeasure when your tail begins to wildly flail from side to side, your hands annoyingly pressing against his chest. And he pulls back, brows furrowed as he tries to understand what’s wrong, only to scowl when he sees hesitation tinged with fear in your pretty eyes.

He thought you were far beyond this point. What is there to be scared of? Why are you so skittish? But he hasn’t gotten as far as he has by blowing his fuse so he forces his tentacles to relinquish you, lightly replacing them with his hands as he brings you over to his bed, letting you sit on his lap and tuck your head under his chin as he gently rubs his thumbs soothingly over your waist.

It’s a good sign that you feel comfortable enough to bury your face in his chest and he lets you sit there silently, waiting for you to speak up. And his patience is rewarded when you nervously draw aimless partners on his skin as you begin to talk.

He bites back a laugh when you ramble on about how you’ve never even had a boyfriend before, never done more than platonically hug and kiss your family and friends. This is all so new to you and isn’t it too fast, too soon? What even are the two of you? Does he even like you? Love you? You don’t want to be just a notch in his bedpost. You want to date, get married, have a family. Only married people can do the things...the things that…

You trail off in embarrassment, unsure how to even phrase things you’ve only whispered about in hushed voices with your friends, that you’ve never experienced for yourself before. But your face heats when a low chuckle reverberates in your ears, gasping when one of Akaashi’s hands digs into your skin, the other traveling sensually up your spine before roughly grabbing the back of your head and pulling you in for a kiss that’s all heady hunger that leaves you breathless.

It would be so easy to just give in, to melt and moan as his nails threaten to pierce your skin, his arms caging you against him until all you can feel, see, and smell is him. Your tongues entangle with each other and you gasp when his fingers begin to slip under a seashell, the other hand teasing the transition of skin to scale. But when he begins to tweak a nipple and palm your ass, you’re jolted back to reality, the morals of chastity and purity you’ve been raised with battling against the temptation of Akaashi’s touch.

“Wait, Keiji. Wait!”

This time there’s no hiding his irritation and you flinch at the annoyance in his eyes as he stares you down, a coldness in his face you’ve never seen before. But you press on, believing that if he truly cared for you, he’d understand. All your girlfriends had told you that if you found the right one, they’d be patient, they’d wait until you were ready.

“I- I really like you, but I don’t think I’m ready for this yet. I want to go on dates, get engaged, get married. And maybe it’s old-fashioned, but I want our first time to be our wedding night, after we’ve said our vows and promises to be together forever.”

“You want to be together forever?”

Akaashi can’t help but smile at the hopeful look in your eyes when you nod your head in affirmation.

“Then until death do us part.”

You’ve always wondered what magic would look or feel like and now you know. You whimper as you feel something powerful, something foreign surge through you, Akaashi’s eyes glowing far more than they should, the shadows of his cave seeming to grow and loom over the two of you. There’s a searing pain on your lower abdomen and the expanse of your chest and you scream as it fills like your tail is being torn into two.

And suddenly there’s a feeling of something wrapping around your heart, an ache between your legs-

Your legs?

You stare in horror, tears forming in your eyes when you see your beautiful tail replaced by two legs, strange black markings permanently engraved over your womb, the scrawl of Akaashi’s name taunting you from its loving placement above your heart.

“Don’t cry, my love. Look we can match now. Consider it a reminder of our new beginning together, the start of the rest of our lives.”

This is a mockery of everything you’ve believed a marriage to be and you only sob harder as Akaashi pins you on your back, his legs in between yours pushing them apart. But he tires of your pained and agonized cries and you gasp as the new markings decorating your skin begin to glow blue. Fear is replaced with lust and all you can think of is Akaashi, all you want is Akaashi, all you need is Akaashi.

There’s just enough of your own will to know this isn’t right, this isn’t truly you. But you can’t do anything against your body and mind’s cravings, the way you instinctively lean into every kiss, every touch. Is this how it always feels? You can’t tell if the delirious pleasure you’re feeling is normal or if it’s being heightened by whatever incantation Akaashi has you under. But you can’t bring yourself to care about the details, not when your eyes are rolling back in your head, something slick leaking from between your new limbs as Akaashi makes his way down your body, mouth and fingers lapping at your new slit.

Your chest heaves, nipples standing at attention, gleaming with Akaashi’s saliva as your body contorts as he continuously pumps in and out of you, adding finger after finger until it feels like you’re going to burst. You don’t even recognize the wanton cries in the air as your own, lewd whines of “Keiji, Keiji, Keiji” filling the air. And then there’s a snap, your body going rigid as something coils tight inside of you before you’re wailing, body thrashing and convulsing around the four digits stuffed inside of you, your arousal coating Akaashi’s fingers and dripping down his wrist.

You hate how wrong it feels to be empty, a whine escaping your lips at the loss of his fingers as he pulls them out. But you flinch at the sight of Akaashi seductively licking his skin clean of your mess, desire making his eyes dark as he contently hums at your taste. You try to use his distraction as a chance to slowly crawl away, but you let out a surprised cry when strong hands drag you back in place, spreading your legs once again.

“We’re not done with our wedding night yet, darling.”

Something hard and thick nudges at your entrance and you struggle anew to no use as your markings glow blue once more. And suddenly you’re pliant and aroused all over again, overwhelmed tears streaming down your face as despair and lust mix together, only heightening the dizzying feeling of having Akaashi’s cock balls deep inside of you. It’s too much, too soon and yet it’s not enough, desire pulsing inside of you, need making you go mad.

But it doesn’t matter what you want or how you feel and Akaashi reminds you of that as he uses your body to chase his own end, hips thrusting in and out of you, cock dragging against your oversensitized walls. On and on he goes, following through with a relentless, brutal pace, spurred on by your lewd moans and the way your nails draw blood as you claw at him, body trying to ground itself in any way.

You’re tumbling over the edge once more and what husband would he be to not join his lovely new wife over that precipice of pleasure? So he follows you down, groaning and burying his face in your neck with a kiss as he thrusts one last time, sinking deep inside of you as he fills you to the brim with his seed.

Reality sinks in as the blue glow emblazoned on you begins to dim until only skin and dark markings are left and disgust makes your guts churn. All you want to do is curl up into a ball. All you want is to be back home with your cousins, joking with Komori, being a brat to Sakusa. All you want is to go back in time, go back to the carefree days of innocence and fluttering your tail when Akaashi was just a faceless name.

But there’s no going back and all you can do is lie there and accept your fate as Akaashi reverently kisses and caresses his marks on your body.

Until death do you part.

#yandere haikyuu #haikyuu smut #yandere akaashi #akaashi smut #akaashi x reader #tw: noncon #tw: mind control #tw: body modification #tw: yandere

698 notes · View notes

liquid-luck-00 · 3 years

Text

Where There Is Change

Last Name Wayne

@maribat-bdbwm

First *** Previous *** Next

Okay so I know I diverged from cannon, but I think you’ll all like this.

~~~~~~~~~~

The moment that Damian agreed, they left.

She immediately placed their phones and electronics into storage, so this game would be a little more fun.

Mari "chose" the first place that they teleported to was Paris. The irony was not lost on her.

The place that kicked her out was the first place that would open up to her. But then again most of the city adored Marinette they loved Lady Scarlet even more, but that wasn't general knowledge.

She and Damian know it is a matter of time before B figures they left the country, but hey. They mostly stuck to going between super cities in the U.S. before. But right now, it mostly was her showing him around the city the museums and then getting really inspired by the scenery.

If she was prepared with several different sketch books and pencils for both of them it was an added bonus.

She knows she subconsciously picked Paris and after a few hours it might be smart to jump again. So, she let Damian decide on a place where he wanted to go. He did warn her that if they were spotted, they need to leave immediately, but she didn’t really see a problem with it.

Because granted they’re both Wayne's, and Wayne's if you know them well enough, they will be able to hand your ass back to you on a silver platter smiling as if it was the greatest thing in the world.

So, they jumped again.

This time it was her turn to be awed by what they saw.

They were in a small alcove completely hidden; in the cave they were in the face of it was covered by bushes. But looking out she saw the mountains in the far distance it appeared to be a lake no it was larger maybe it was the ocean. Right below her was a lush courtyard filled with plant she's only seen and one other place, but the heat here was tremendous, and the sea that she could see was in the wrong direction. Apart from being far, far, far too close to where she originally thought they were.

She was going to lean forward a bit and completely break through the bushes that were covering them when a hand pulled her back. She looks back and sees her little brother holding onto her.

"We have to stay hidden Nettie, are above the League of Assassins." He whispered so quiet she could barely hear him about ten inches away, so she’s not taking this lightly.

She nodded, and they stayed there, silent. The only sound was of graphite on paper.

Then everything changed.

On instinct Marinette shot out her arm, a wooden imperial yo-yo appeared in her hand, with a quick flick of her wrist she stopped the projectile, lodging it within the wood. A quick glance at her brother and she opened up portal behind him and pushed him through without a word, closing it behind him.

She knows that it’s more dangerous if they find him here than her, so she stayed behind.

She removed the projectile and examined it, a blow dart likely with poison, seeing as a liquid was seeping into the wood of the yo-yo. She created a replica of the dart and stored the poisonous one and her yo-yo back in storage.

She took a quick breath and punctured her arm where the dart should have originally landed. And fell to the ground, slumped down.

She kept her face relaxed her body limp and she felt three, four, five separate sickly deathly auras around her. She kept her breathing at minimum, light, almost as if she was asleep. They picked her up and moved her. She realized immediately that she was being taken down the mountain, taken deeper into the League of Assassins.

Five assassins she can take them. But the one thing repeatedly crossing her mind was one phrase.

'How dare these assholes mess with her family! Her little brother! They are going to pay!'

Because she is a Wayne, and Wayne’s protect their own.

She was eventually dropped in a large room, from what she can tell, if the echoes were any indication to what she was thinking the size of the room could be. There were three more auras in this room, aside from the ones she passed to get here. What surprised her was she recognized all three.

Still acting unconscious, she heard a woman’s voice, Talia Al Ghul, speak. "What business do you have to bring this child here?" It was phrased as a question but seemed more like a snarl or demand than anything else.

"She was captured on the grounds. She’s an unknown." Was what was reported by one of the people in who had dragged her down here.

Then she heard a chuckle.

"She’s awake." That voice, she recognizes that voice. Her entire previous plan was now completely out the window. So, she lazily pushes herself up, pulling out the dart once she was on her feet.

"Damn, I thought that would last a little longer." She finally looked up and saw Damian's clone, Heretic, Talia, and Al Ghul. But something was wrong, it was bothering her. Al Ghul, he, he… he wasn’t Demon, he wasn’t her Demon anymore. All she recognized now is his voice, at least that’s what she told herself, nothing else was the same as a person she once knew. The question now is why. "I really shouldn’t have introduced you to the Order, if the result would have been this?" A smirk on her lips and now standing cocky in the middle of a room full of assassins, she is stalling. He is acting like he knows her, but his aura is indecipherable, familiar, but not.

"You should not have, but then I wouldn’t be here today, to thank you, would I? After all you allowed our family to find these pits." ‘Our Family’ she dove into her memories, but now that she needed them, they were far away and fuzzy, God damn it.

"Hmmm, I suppose not. Right now, I really wish I had turned you into a cat permanently. I found the correct spell, so I actually can now." This elicited yet another chuckle from Al Ghul which had everyone else in the room on edge.

"Really now I love to see it, after all I wasn’t able to experience it before you vanished." She quirked an eyebrow at this response, but she didn’t care about his mind games, she was stalling, trying to find out what caused this change. All her mind supplied were the plants outside. Demon wasn’t good with plants, but he was with animals, so how.

"Really you don’t wanna know why am actually here?" She asked, looking so innocent, one might believe that she was there merely an accident or coincidence.

She then turned towards Heretic, death in her blue eyes was all anyone could see, but she didn’t kill him. No, she couldn't bring herself to kill him. He may have killed her baby brother, but he is

Damian’s clone, but that clone was nothing but a poor imitation of her brother. With a snap of her fingers, he transformed into a statue of a panther, mouth opening for a roar. In all accounts looking intimidating, but there’s no way to be scared of a statue.

"That was for killing my little brother." She crossed her arms now glaring daggers towards Talia.

"I wasn’t aware you had a little brother, Lady Cheng." Demon never called her Lady Cheng, no to him she was Malak (Angel), but…

That was when the pieces fell into place. That’s why the older Damian looks like a cross between Demon and Bruce. That’s why Damian turned into a panther cub. Damian is Amir’s reincarnation, the true soul of the black cat. That means, in front of her stood Ra’s, Amir’s older twin brother. That’s why he could read the journal, he is a miraculous soul. And only miraculous souls know the language of miracles, without decades of studying the script. It’s ingrained in them but only accessible after coming in contact with old magic, miraculous magic.

"One, the name is Wayne. Two that’s because at the time that I met the both of you 600 years ago, I didn’t even know I had siblings. So, get this through your head, I don’t care that he is your son or your grandson. He is my little brother. Nothing will stop me from making sure my family is safe." Her voice stayed level, emotion flitted in and out of it, in such a way that it almost seemed inhuman. For more reasons than one, she just sensed one of the Lazarus Pits.

"Scarlet." She heard gasped by the woman next to Ra’s.

"Correct." She glared at them walking closer as she said so. "My name is Marinette Wayne, and you best remember to never mess with creation. I would have thought you would remember that little Lǎohǔ (Tiger)."

By her walk over a sword had appeared in each hand, which she was now holding up to Lǎohǔ‘s neck, while the second was held right at the base of Talia's spine, almost daring her to move. The threat hung in the air, and both knew she was capable of following through.

"Well, I do believe it’s best to catch up over some tea." Lǎohǔ offered, many would have taken his offer. Because if the Demon’s head offers it, it would be your funeral if you refused, but she wasn’t just anyone. "After all we haven’t seen each other, in nearly 600 years, now have we, much must’ve happened to you."

"Hmmm... not really you’d be surprised. By what has become of my life been since meeting you." She decided to put away her blades, for the time being. Seeing as she couldn’t leave without destroying the Pits. The only surviving consequence of the Miraculous wish, cast ages ago. Now time to come up with a plan.

---

"Are you sure about this Pigtails?" Plagg spoke up.

"Ancient magic like this calls for a price." She sighed.

"We know, Marinette, but your little brother." Tikki voiced.

"I'll do everything I can to keep all of them safe." She spoke resolutely.

"But can you live with this?" Tikki asked.

"I have to be able to. Besides I'm pretty sure he is your true kitten, Plagg." She reassured.

Tikki and Plagg united their powers, and were able to destroy the pit, and every other one on Earth. Then disappeared. She opened a gate knowing what is coming.

---

Somewhere in the league of Assassins was the Demon's head and his daughter, looking royally pissed as they watch a timer tick down. Seeing as Marinette decided to freeze them with venom, so she could destroy the Lazarus Pits.

~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Taglist: @itsmeevie01 @adrestar @miraculouspenta @vixen-uchiha @animegirlweeb @jumpingjoy82 @thedragonbug @astoriaandroses @icerosecrystal @t1dwarrior-of-earth @moon5606 @zalladane @midnightrosecrystal @myazael @prettylittlebutterflie @toodaloo-kangaroo @roseisred @galaxymoon @queenz-z

Story Taglist: @ladybug-182 @nerd-nowandforever @stelliones @trippingovermyfeet @thepaceperson @all-mights-asscheeks @another-cancer @alyssadeliv @mep-kittyjustkillme @ravennm84 @chocolatecatstheron @jayjayspixiepop @missanalysis @lost-in-the-world-of-maribat @aespades @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @ritacrow-blog @frieddonutsweets @laurcad123 @ashbrea381writings @jjmjjktth

#mbdbwm2021 #maribat #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #bio!dad bruce #bio!dad bruce wayne #who was I alluding to again?#time to find out #dc x miraculous #miraculous x dc #mdcu marinette #mdcu damian wayne #mdcu ras al ghul #mdcu talia al ghul #oc twin!ra’s

163 notes · View notes

loserrking · 2 years

Text

Unsent Letters

CC!Wilbur soot x reader

Summary : Wilbur reads the letters (Name) made that they never sent

A/N : Holy souls those are alot of trigger warnings. @blooming-mushroom its done :] No pronouns used, I think?... This is my first time writing angst so pls don't be harsh when giving criticism :]

For the eighteenth time this week, he entered the once bright and joyful home of his partner, now it was dull and no longer full of color....it was empty- something that may seem fine in the eyes of an outsider, maybe perhaps the resident was out for a walk or maybe they were at the market, no- the reason is neither of those things because (Name) was gone...

Wilbur kept a nonchalant face as he drifted into a room... He has spent so much time crying that he felt numb.

Bloodshot eyes gazed around the room, he knew the area very well as he had visited it many times before... The brunette contemplated looking through your stuff. You hated it when people touched your stuff but a particular shoe box under the dresser caught his eye, was that there before? Doesn't matter... He really shouldn't touch it, you'd be extremely upset if he did... But it was labeled "To my dear Wilbur" so it was probably okay for him to look through it right....? Right.

The tall man took the box into his hands and sat beside the dresser on the floor with his back against the wall. He wasn't that surprised to see a bunch of letters in the box, he was slightly confused on why he never received any letters from you despite the stacked pile of parchment in the shoe box,but he just assumed you never sent them. he took the one on the top and started reading.

Dear Wilbur,

How was your day? Mine wasn't that great, some idiot at work spilled hot chocolate on my WHITE shirt and she didn't even apologize! And you know that poem I was working on? I accidentally deleted it :( I decided to take the bus to go home and I sat next to this mother who's child would not shut up, I kept stubbing my toe when I got home and then when I was gonna take a nice hot shower, I twisted the tap the wrong way and was hit with water colder than the winter. I went to play bedwars and lost 4 times so I decided to just go on our private world and build something but my mind was blank and anything I decided to build ended like shiz.... I had a horrible day but talking to you made it better <3

P.S I probably won't send this to you...

Yours truly,

The Amazing (Name)

Wilbur couldn't stop the grin forming on his face, and even for a moment, he forgot about your death... He sighed "I wish you were still here..." He couldn't recognize his own voice, probably from not using it much.

He read more,some were cute,some were funny, but as he kept on reading, he noticed that the letters were getting shorter and started getting more concerning sentences and phrases in them

Dear Wilbur,

Can we could go ice skating again sometime? I had a lot of fun, infact, I had so much fun with you that you made me forget the world was a horrible place...how did you do that?

Sincerely,

Your partner, (Name)

Dear Wilbur,

I really wanna send these letters to you, but they keep telling me not to, I'm scared of what'll happen if I disobey, the last time I did, something bad happened . Maybe one day you'll be able to read these :(

Kind Regards,

(Name)

Dear Wilbur,

The sun and clouds were frowning at me today, I'm getting tired of these hallucinations, they make me feel like I did something wrong! But anyways, I missed you, lets go to that cat cafe I told you about :)

Sincerely,

(Name)

Dear Wilbur,

I'm sorry I snapped at you today, I was in a bad mood and the voices were louder than usual. I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow

Best Regards,

(Name)

Wilbur's face contorted into one of confusion and concern. He knew you were mentally ill but he didn't recall you saying anything about hearing voices or having hallucinations. You never really told him much about your mental illness, maybe he should've been more persistent in asking what it was.

Did this tie into your death? Could this have played a part in it? It's been weeks after it happened and the police officers still couldn't decipher how you died and Wilbur was determined to find out, he frantically kept going through more of the letters, reading it in a fast pace. He skimmed through every one of them until he reached the last two letters.....

Dear Wilbur,

Sometimes I feel like I'm just bringing you down, and I'm sorry.... Maybe I should just disappear

Yours truly,

(Name)

Dear Wilbur,

I'm sorry, I can't keep our promise. It's all too much for me, goodbye Wil

Sincerely,

(Name)

The brunette knew what this meant, but he didn't wanna believe it.... Everything slowly started to make more sense, he should've been there for you, he should've noticed, how had he not noticed you were in pain? Was he that terrible of a boyfriend? God, it made him sick to the stomach just thinking about how you were silently screaming for help and yet he just stood there and did nothing.

His breathing pattern was uneven and soon his whimpers turned into sobs. He put a hand over his mouth, desperately trying to muffle his cries as tears streamed down his face. He wanted to scream, he wanted to yell and blame everyone for not trying to help you, he wanted to be able to hug you again, to be able to tell you a million times how much he loved you... But he can't, so he sat on the floor, trying to calm himself. He missed you, he missed you so much. It wasn't fair... The tears didn't stop, nor did the whimpers... If he had been there to comfort you, would you still be here? Would you still be alive if he or anyone tried to save you? Answer was... Yeah, probably....

Wilbur cried himself to sleep that night, he didn't even go home, he didn't have the strength to.... So he just laid there for a few hours until he eventually decided to drive home

The drive was quiet and the road was empty, at some point, Wilbur ended up zoning out, reminiscing about the times you shared together, the way you would smile and how you would stutter when he said a flirty comment, and how it just felt right being in your arms. He knew he was crying again, but this time he didn't bother to wipe it away.... He remembers how you would–

*BEEEP*

The startling sound rung through Wilbur's ears, it made the man turn the steering wheel wich caused his vehicle to swerve right into a tree

"shit..."

42 notes · View notes

uelden · 3 years

Text

Vanity Fair interview translated

Just a side note before the actual translation; I don't know why, but instead of reporting the full questions and answers in full as she should, the journalist decided to report only summarized fragments of what Måneskin said and patch these fragments up into messy clusters. She also worded a couple phrases in a very confusing way (and yes, she's fully Italian). In short, she did quite a poor job, so the final shape of the interview is not that good. I didn't expect top-tier journalism from Vanity Fair but ffs. You'll see what I mean.

I translated it as it is, adding just a couple footnotes to give you insight on Italian pop culture references.

Translation under the cut

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

by Lavinia Farnese, 09 June 2021

"True justice is being judged for what you do and not for what you are." The ones who are convinced of this are Damiano, Victoria, Ethan and Thomas who, by being the emblem of a generation that is finally free, refuse labels and conformism. In life, in love and on the stage. Where, maybe precisely because of this, they're winning everything

With the still unexpected (first place at Sanremo Festival) and the incredible (triumph at Eurovision) in their eyes, Måneskin are on the sofa of the house-studio they rented - to resume writing songs and rehearsing them - like you are after a won battle: lying in a calm and unreal silence, alert and a bit irreverent, happy.

In the garden there's the tennis table and the pool, the light of summer when it's starting and calming the country all around, and it filters inside from the large windows, and it goes onto the shining black of Ethan's hair, which blends with Thomas' eye shadow and the butterfly he has tattooed oh his naked forearm, which completes the picture of Victoria's golden crucifix hanging between neck and tank top and ends on the black nail polish of Damiano's stretched hands.

It's a human fresco, a Theatre of wrath [translator's note: "Teatro d'ira"] - to call it with the title of their latest album, a platinum record already - where their flaunted 20 years of age, their irregular femininity and virility are grown into proud and challenging custom, a pop glam rock generational manifesto of hard-earned liberties in a finally-unconditional expression of the self.

To watch them from any angle and from another age is to think that a great love will be born in those who'll understand: this new way of being in the world, the true and sovereign realm they hold where "diversity=exceptionality", the power of the artistic and cultural revolution of which they are healthy carriers in establishing in all lyrics and gestures the right to live according to one's own nature past the "people (who) talk, the people (who) unfortunately talk, and don't know what the fuck they're talking about." [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

We go where we're afloat, where the air isn't gone. [tn: journalist's own variation on "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

Miley Cyrus says hi – The numbers of a phenomenon

"The streams of Zitti e buoni are growing by the second, and they bring us above Muse, at the top of English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. Followers almost tripled, in the post-Rotterdam period (from 1,4 to 3,3 millions, ed.) Contagious and universal folly: t-shirts and merchandising sold out in 10 minutes. Like the records, the tickets for a tour that keeps adding dates and expanding over geographic maps. They're contacting us even from some festivals were The Rolling Stones went." Thomas

"After the pretextual controversy over cocaine that France built against us, later disproven by my drug test, some graffiti popped up in Spain depicting me as a “No drugs” poster guy. Some tweets made us laugh: "Congratulations, Italy! I've never been more certain that four people have had sex with each other." Miley Cyrus started following us -You're great. -You guys are greater." Damiano

From the garage to the stars – Story of a flight

"It was only 2016, and we played in restaurants, in the streets, in via del Corso. Damiano without even a microphone, Thomas' guitar with wonky strings, Ethan was drumming on a cajón. During Rome highschools' sit-ins (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first confirmations and half-hours of celebrity, playing among those who criticized us and those who went "wow they're really cool." One of the rare times when they would have paid us – 50 euros each – we gave the money to the next band in the lineup so that they would make us play in their spot, later in the day, when there would have been more people. We had already realized how things worked. Visibility mattered more than money. And we still think that." Victoria

The intimacy of rock – Choice of a genre

"Music allows us the miracle of extending to others some very personal and private topics, sometimes even difficult and thorny ones. They are and they remain deeply your own, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage that is alike a delivery, they find a place in you as well, a processing of them. You overcome them, you accept them. One second it's something aggressive, the next it's a ballad. Cathartic». Damiano

Against panic – The stage as therapy

"I've suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it's an issue I've worked on thanks to a psychotherapy course, my friends and my family. Playing helped me in not letting myself be paralyzed by my fears, not making myself limited in my private and professional life. I've learned to accept, to live with this side of myself. I don't hide it. I don't feel ashamed of it." Victoria

Analysis as necessity – Relying on someone saves you

"This belief that only madmen go to the psychologist is a widespread ignorance. No-one's born learned. [tn: common Italian saying] And it's often hard to understand the very reason why we're here, let alone the origin and direction of our desires. It's a long and legitimate journey towards lucidity, a kind of backing to become transparent." Damiano

Being out of our minds – But different from them [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

"When you feel a strong passion towards something that is not a canonical job but an artistic language, that already puts you on a level of anomaly, which is not superior or inferior to other people, but it puts you in the position of the one who breaks the mold and also works at a loss, the one who sustains great risks while trying to do something that who knows if it will take you anywhere. "Why do it if it doesn't pay?". You want to give this dream of yours an aesthetic, but it becomes "You're dressing so weird! You must be gay!" - now that I'm 22 I laugh about it, but when I was 17 it had an effect on me, too." Damiano

The beauty of uniqueness – Of believing in it and defending it

"And I mean, at the end of the day if we're all different it's not because we want be alternative but because, really, no-one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty." Ethan

Fluid sexuality – Pride is freedom

"Heels for men that like themselves in them, kisses among ourselves, we have an open, extended mind, and we're proud of it. The horizons become vast, past the oppression of conservative families. With the information on the web knowledge becomes greater and with it the possibility that minorities will be less and less minorities, because the majority will be less of a majority. This way we'll make insults and bullying grow quieter. If social media get to a village of 50 souls and reveal to a girl who's afraid of the dark that someone has felt her same fear, then there's no reason to give a name to that fear, to mark it with labels which also limit and restrict. Definitions always had this effect on me. You shouldn't even consider the gender when judging someone, let alone their orientation." Victoria

Sexism – A culture to be dismantled

"Emma [tn: Emma Marrone, Italian singer] drops the bomb: “At Eurovision when I was there they massacred me for a pair of shorts, while they said nothing to Damiano – bare-chested and in heels.” The easy judgment against women is more fierce, constant, debasing (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool while Vic is a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader while Vic is despotic and a pain in the ass who reached success because she's hot.) As a male I'm privileged, the abuse I get is not comparable to those a woman has to live through, the comments over my aesthetic are centered only on my aesthetic and don't insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thought in a systematic way. It happened though to find myself standing with a woman who while pulling me to herself to take a selfie, started licking my face out of the blue... I mean, what the hell do you want? Who asked you? Consent exists, and it's due." Damiano

Grow yourself – The only commandment

"To me conformism is the opposite of education [tn: could also mean "politeness"] and is the asphyxia of expression. I fortunately never endured heavy bullying, heavy enough for the the judgement of others to change me. But the mold of the small crumbs of bullying I got and of the kind of aggression that scars is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and likes dolls you have to let me do what I like. I was a kid who wanted to keep his hair long and played with Barbie. As a teen, my friends looked at my hair: " You have to find a girl with short hair to be at your side." My grandparents took away my dolls: "Stop it, they're not for you." Ethan

"When I was six I was already sick of them, the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things that were typically defined as girly, and all around me they mocked me because I went skateboarding, I played soccer, I didn't wear skirts, I was giving myself the chance to be as I wished. I endured it a little, I suffered a little, but I had courage, and now thanks to that courage I know that I could have gotten even much more hurt, otherwise I would have left to others the most important choice: the one about myself." Victoria

Love in progress – Music, girlfriends

"I've been married to music for the last 20 years. I can't wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary." Ethan

"Everyone makes their own experiences, sometimes it goes well, sometimes it goes wrong, but it's always not anybody's business." Thomas

"When I first felt feelings and attraction towards a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage of going beyond the limitations I had put for myself. For society being heterosexual is the norm and so you often define yourself in that way automatically, depriving yourself of the freedom to live many shades and faces of love. Once I overcame the initial insecurity of having to call into question my certainties I've lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone." Victoria

"I had paparazzi at my door every day and night. So, after four years of relationship, I revealed her name. I still have paparazzi at my door every day and nigh, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore." Damiano

The worth of the group – Phenomenology of protection

"The true engagement though, the true family is among ourselves, our band. We've believed in it since day zero, even before we called ourselves Måneskin (Moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon on the flier for the first concert we ever did. We share everything, even the pain for the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because of racism. [tn: I think the journalist asked them their opinion about Seid Visin's death, which was a current events topic in Italy, and then pasted it syntaxically in the middle of Thomas' answer, which was not a great move] A group is what we all should be: stay united and not back down an inch in the face of oppression that is generated by a distorted view of diversity." Thomas

I'm not of the right age – Like Gigliola [tn: Gigliola Cinquetti won Eurovision with her song "Non ho l'età", which means "I'm not of the right age"]

"Before you the only one who won both Sanremo and Eurovision on the same year was Cinquetti (1964). If there's anything I feel I'm not of the right age for? No, honestly no. Maybe having children. Regarding children I'll be honest: I'm not of the right age." Damiano

Having touched the sky – The fears that remain

"We're more than inside the dream, we're in the conquered dream. When you fly high there's the risk of plummeting and hurting yourself, but we'll work hard not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - a bit pretentiously - reassures us rather than scaring us." Damiano

#maneskin #måneskin #vanity fair #italian #translation

201 notes · View notes

inkedtae · 3 years

Text

orange tree ⇾ knj, kth. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ ares!namjoon x mortal!reader (f.) x apollo!taehyung

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ greek god au, established relationship (w/namjoon), smut, pwp, filth, poly au, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ he built you a pathronon but you would like to expand its patrons… at least just for the evening.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 7.4k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ dom!namjoon, tattooed!namjoon, silver mullet!namjoon, dom!taehyung, blonde mullet!taehyung, sub!reader, a lil bratty!reader, rough sex, public sex, outdoor sex, angry sex, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), humilition kink, size kink, pain kink, jealousy, threesome, overstimulation, degradation, double penatration (in one hole), exhibitionism, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, oral (m. and f. receiving), deep throating, cockwarming, choking, manhandling, body worshipping, pussy worshipping, basically reader worshipping, pussy slapping, cum eating, clit biting, spanking, teasing, begging, spit play, breath play, breast play, pretty much an ungodly amount of filth :)))

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ i’m a hoe :))

❧ banner by ⇾ @kimtaehyunq (thank you so much friend~)

❧ beta’d by ⇾ @nottodayjjk and @uhgood-dooghu (a million thanks to these cuties~)

❧ le playlist

⟶ commission for @jamaisjoons through ChangesWithLuv, supporting BLM

Beyond the holy village of Barthes, within a meadow of sun dropped marigolds, you lounge topless underneath an orange tree. Cool winds cut the late summer heat. The breeze hardens your nipples and prickles your exposed skin with goosebumps. Hair tousled, you bite into another orange slice. He did not care for citrus, until he tasted your lips. Then, he planted you an orange tree. He promised you good fortune and a long life.

“You will want for nothing,” he told you. “Just, behave.”

Behave. A word he’d used often with you. Jaw tense, he’d hiss the warning while fondling your breasts or cupping your sex. When he is furious, he is boundless. He fucks like a titan, remnants of a gracious god completely withering away. Tight grips, rough pounds, and seething threats that promise such painful pleasure, Kim Namjoon is a red hot planet of sexual destruction. So angry, so lustful, he serves you a cockful of discipline and then some. You are helpless. To his wrath, you are subjected. But, you don’t mind. The truth of the matter is, your body is always alive when buried under his.

“You’re a minx,” a deep voice states behind you.

You sit up, fruit juice trailing down your arm. Lips in a pout, you gaze up at the tall man behind you. Blonde hair, symmetrical face, sharp collarbone, broad chest and - he smirks - and, oh so sinister. How could a delicate smile be so devilishly sincere? And he brands you a minx… what does this handsome man know of you? How long has he been watching? Swallowing your bite thickly, you try and fail to fathom his beauty.

He pushes himself off the tree trunk and circles around you. His eyes dance around the thin, red blanket, the array of fruits, and braided loaves by the wicker basket before trailing up your exposed legs. A shiver snakes around your curves. The way his eyes devour you makes you think he did not stumble upon this hideaway accidentally. Namjoon took extensive measures to ensure no one would. No, this man knows. He must. Why else would he not question your presence alone under the only tree? He accepts it, expects it.

Pushing your sticky arms around your breast, you attempt to somewhat conceal yourself and ask, “Are you a traveller?”

He shakes his head. The wind plays with his hair the moment the sun emerges behind heavy clouds. Its natural glow lights up his figure, in all its holy glory. Well-toned, pierceless, inkless, chiseled features are all too accurate to be human. He is pure. There is very little scarring on his skin as well. He looks down right angelic, prophetic, utterly godly.

Has Namjoon really entertained your fantasies? You first made the suggestion off hand, completely innocent in your phrasing, until his face fell. Stone fierce gaze slicing through your soul, you couldn’t help but describe an ocean’s worth of desires involving more than one man by your side. You were fucked to tears against the tree until it’s branches were bare and the ground was covered in ripe fruit and loose leaves. You thought that would be the end of it. But now, as you carefully stare at the god while he shamelessly sips on your near nakedness, you wonder just how wrong you might have been.

“Have you come to watch?”

“To worship.”

Your arousal slicks your thighs. Pressing your legs together, you suppress the giddy shivers that caress your spine. Though excited, you really can’t believe Namjoon did it. It was a joke but, scanning the sun god’s frame once more, you’re glad he didn’t take it that way. Face flushed, you lie back in your previous position. On your side, breasts on full display, you toss your hair aside. As your lips part to question the details of his intentions, you catch a familiar silhouette by the sea, in the distance. Flickering your gaze between the two men, you wonder if this new god was sent to test your loyalty or limits? The figure nods. You smile.

Attention returning to the golden god, you ask, “Apollo, is it?”

“Taehyung,” he corrects.

“Is that the name you prefer I scream?”

He pauses. Those mismatched eyes widen at your intrepidity. Dazed in confusion, he scans your frame once again, as if reprocessing your presence. He’s underestimated your wits, you realize, but the newfound understanding in his eyes reassures you that it won’t happen again. Good. He’s a quick learner.

Quirking a brow at the blanket beneath you, he asks, “May I?”

You nod once. He licks his lips twice, bites on the bottom one, then seats himself beside you. On his side, bare chest on display, he takes in the scenery from this new angle. Flowers bloom under a peachy dawn, and the vast fields of greenery wither to sandy shores where the sea waves as a way of greeting. His cocky stare lingers on your boyfriend before settling back to your little shrine underneath the orange tree. It’s a parthenon all on its own, with you as the center of its divinity. This detail seems to intrigue him more than it should, but you assume it might also have something to do with being watched.

Taking his hand in yours, you feel the dimming warmth of the setting sun. Who’s manning the chariot, you wonder, and would he be willing to let you ride it? Your bones tremble beneath your flesh at the impression of a distant growl. Oh, right. You almost forgot Ares can read your mind. Being something of a soulmate, he’s connected to you in ways other gods are not. Another growl slices through your thoughts. Jealousy sounds so good on him. Hearing his frustrations, knowing he’s enjoying the way you indulge, flusters the anxious bundle of nerves at your core.

Taehyung chuckles. Inches away now, his hot breath fans over your cheek. Fingers trailing up from your hand, along your arm then to your neck, he wraps his hand around your throat. He presses his thumb in the divet just under your chin, teasing a choke but never actually going through with it. You wonder what Namjoon must be hissing by the sea. What kind of curses is he throwing? Just picturing his furious eyes and cliffed jaw tickles the pit of your stomach.

“You’re precious,” Taehyung whispers, lips pressed against your chin. “I understand why he hides you from us.”

Us? Olympus knows of your blasphemous citrus temple? Usually, this kind of revelation would grant you a lightning bolt to the heart and an eternity in Tartarus. Only this wakes something different in Taehyung. His breath shallows, erection pokes at your thigh. He’s aroused by the idea of worshipping someone as powerless as a mortal. Or perhaps, you wonder as Taehyung nibbles on your skin, he simply adores displaying his power. Either or, you decide to make the most of what your Ares has granted you. Gaze finding his broad frame again, you let out an exaggerated gasp.

Namjoon flinches. However, it isn’t until you press your body against Taehyung’s that he cringes. He shifts his weight, fist clenched by his sides and you swear you can see steam hovering over his head. Namjoon is livid. But, Taehyung is oblivious. Too consumed by your pleasure, he tightens his grip on your throat and trails his open-mouthed kisses down to your breasts. Nipple between his teeth, Taehyung groans in hunger. Tongue teasing, he licks to play, not to soothe any of the stings. Your toes and legs hook around his waist. Hips rolling, you tease a preview of what you have in mind.

Taehyung shifts half an inch away though. You know it’s not because he didn’t enjoy the gesture, the throb against your hip reassuring you just how much he would really enjoy it. It still hurts your pride, however. Twinges of humiliation taint your soft features. He offers half a smirk as a means of comfort.

“He told me you’ve got quite a mouth.”

Is that an excuse or explanation? In both cases, it’s weak. He traces your face, fingertips so soft you almost forget the indirect rejection. Charming, his tiger starved gaze reflects hints of amusement. You’re easy prey, a fact that crumbles your courage. He is not here to coddle your pride, to serve the goddess of this naturous parthenon, but rather to obliviate it. A pitiful pile of pleasure is all he wishes to make of you. Though, now you wonder, is he doing this because he wants to, or because he’s ordered to?

Eyes darting between Apollo and Ares, you swallow thickly. The wondrous glow in Taehyung’s gaze makes you pause. Perhaps you’ve been too hasty. Perhaps they were both counting on that. The humiliation returns ten fold and prickles your skin upon realizing how careless you have been. Too quick to show your keen interest in devouring a different dose of daylight, you did not make Taehyung work as hard as he should’ve. And knowing that must have been what Namjoon was expecting only festers your heart with anger. This isn’t an opportunity to indulge, you conclude, but to reprimand. The both of them want to sip on your submission. The role of a meek mortal amuses them more than it should. It turns you on more than it should. So, you pull away more than you should.

Laying back on your elbows, you redirect your gaze to the sky. You can feel both pairs of eyes studying you. Taehyung props himself up on his forearm and looks over at your suddenly calmed features. It’s almost as if you’ve never exchanged a word at all.

“Funny,” you restart, all cards hidden this time. “He never mentioned you.”

Angry, confused, perhaps both, Taehyung stares. He blink, blink, blinks before he fully registers what’s been said. You can feel Namjoon’s delight though. The pride he has in the way you sassed a rival resonates deep in your core.

As you shimmy out of your dress, Taehyung finally scoffs a chuckle. You attempt to ignore the way it lights your soul with desire and focus on Namjoon’s silhouette. He looks closer, lurking by the tall grass, though still near the sand. Fully naked, you try to school your features and pretend you don’t notice the way Namjoon’s jaw clenches while Taehyung’s falls slack. Your hands rests on Taehyung’s bare thigh long enough to make him shudder and your boyfriend growl. It’s almost all too easy to push Namjoon’s buttons. He hates it when you do something simply because you can.

“You abuse your power,” he always tells you.

And, with a smile, you always reply, “I don’t abuse anything, Joonie. You just can’t refuse it.”

Taehyung seems to prove this statement now, falling prey to the way you toy with him. Half focused, you’re paying enough attention to him to feel his frustration. Displeased with the way you have your eyes glued on the god of war, Taehyung huffs and inches closer.

“Do I need to plant you an orange tree?” he teases. Well, he attempts to anyways. The resentment in his tone seeps through instead.

You bite back a smirk. “You can try.”

His eyes flash with annoyance. Chewing on the insides of his cheeks, Taehyung raises a brow. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, but you can safely assume he’s highly debating it. His eyes shift around the tree the two of you currently lounge under. Sparing you a glance, he scoffs. Perhaps he doesn’t think it’s worth it, you wonder. It’s no matter to you. All it really means is more time spent frustrating him, teasing him beyond-

The ground crackles, splitting open with the presence of new roots. Bare branches rise and twist around the orange tree trunk. The deep green leaves sprout. Then, ripe figs bloom. They dangle closer to you than the oranges do. You don’t have much time to really admire them, however, as a loud rumble rattles your bones. The sound is enough to snap your fearful eyes to the seashore. Namjoon is gone.

Shit. Have you taken this too far? Namjoon did plant this tree for you. He had never so much so as looked at another mortal. His allegiance, devotion, and adoration has been declared to you on more than one occasion. You are all he ever sees, thinks, breathes. Swallowing thickly, you mentally call him back. It’s all in good fun, you try to convince him. A quiet hum from the other side of the line is enough to soothe your anxiety. You lean back into the other god.

Taehyung couldn’t be less concerned. Instead of searching for Namjoon, as you seem to be interested in doing, he latches his lips onto your shoulder, a single hand cupping your breast. You gasp. Taking this as an encouragement to continue, Taehyung trails a wet arrangement of open mouthed kisses along your neck. Lips pressed to the shell of your ear, he hisses, “Quite a fucking mouth, indeed.” He digs his fingertips into the flesh of your breast and continues, “Might need some good dick to keep it in check.”

The thought is appealing. So much so, that you cannot help the way your eyes widen and glisten with interest. Having his cock shoved down your throat while he growls at the sheer sight of it alone has compelled your undivided attention. But, Namjoon’s rage still scratches at your bones, warning you against playing too much.

You scoff. “Who says I don’t already have that?”

Taehyung does not reply. Not a smirk graces his lips nor breath escapes him. He simply leans in for a kiss. You find yourself giving in all too quickly. He slides his hand down to cup the space between your thighs and you cannot find it within you to push it away. In fact, you spread your legs further apart and tell yourself it’s reactive. The jolt of your hips up into his hand though… that might’ve been calculative.

But the simple gesture of rolling your hips into his palm has shown all your cards once more. He reclaims the power, pulling away from the kiss and your sex. He clutches onto your hair, a deadpan expression the only means of emotion now. In huffing silence, he yanks on your hair, guiding your head down to his crotch. You hiss, the gesture proving more pleasurable than painful as you feel a fresh rush of your wetness further stain your legs.

His silk skirt, pinned up and hanging from his hip by an arrowed, gold pin, lies in a disarried pile beside him. His huge cock is all that stands before you. He’s thicker than Namjoon, but, even with its impressive length, it does not compare to your boyfriend’s size. Taehyung is massive, but Namjoon is monstrous.

Your mouth still salivates all the same. Tip oozing precum, Taehyung shoves your face against his balls. His thick scent rolls your tongue out. Heavy in lust, he mostly smells of lemons and cream. You’ve always adored citrus… Namjoon knows this well. And though you expected to feel your boyfriend’s anger at this revelation, all you feel on the other side is emptiness. You wonder where he’s gone.

Or, at least you attempt to wonder. The moment you feel the impression of Taehyung’s weighty balls against your lips, all your thoughts dissipate. You swirl your tongue around each one before dropping them in your mouth. Suckling, drool dripping, your enthusiasm cannot be hidden any longer. Moaning maniactically, your eyes roll back.

Taehyung gasps and hisses. The peak of his groans, however, surfaces when you wrap a hand around his thick cock. You were ready to start pumping until you realized a single hand barely even covers half of him. Both hands wrapped around his length now, you twist and drag them up and down. Every so often, you tighten your grip a bit and let out a throaty moan. He shudders each time, legs trembling from your attention.

On your knees, with your ass up high for any onlookers to easily see, the wind lashes at your heat. You squeal, then pull his balls out of your mouth to spit on his cock. The thick wad makes it easier to pump him. Brows furrowed, he runs a hand through his golden hair and shakily sighs… then his sight sets on something behind you. He smirks, white canines a dangerous nod to his power.

A familiar hand rests on the small of your back, the other landing a harsh smack on your ass. You scream and fall forward onto Taehyung, face fully buried in his cock now. He laughs heartily, running a hand through your hair as a weak excuse for comfort.

The hand behind you does not stop after one smack. It goes in for second, then third, and before you know it, your ass is burning with stings and pussy wetter than the ocean behind you. The pain ignites something viciously erotic, cradling your heart enough to make you whimper. It’s the idea of being used, you assume, and it only makes you perk your ass up higher.

His raspy scoff makes you shiver, spine tingling with excitement. He gropes onto your ass and grunts, “Don’t try to be a good girl now.”

Tangling his fingers in your hair, Namjoon uses this harsh grip to shove your face further against Taehyung’s crotch. He pulls back and tries again, making sure your mouth engulfs his friend’s cock this time.

“You want to suck his cock, huh? Then fucking suck, you little slut,” he growls.

Your face flames with embarrassment. You can’t even bring yourself to meet Taehyung’s gaze. He merely laughs through a moan, leaning back on his hands as he watches you choke on his cock. You really can’t take him all in one go; you haven’t even found a way to take Namjoon in a single motion. But, your boyfriend couldn’t care less. He pushes your head down and keeps it there. Your jaw aches, throat burns, contracting around Taehyung’s thickness enough to make him throw his head back. Tears spill and spill and you foolishly think this will be the height of his punishment.

Then, in he goes.

“Such a wet little bitch,” Namjoon hisses as he pushes his cock into your pussy.

You let out a strangled whine against Taehyung, much to his pleasure, and attempt to spread your legs, but Namjoon keeps them in place. They’re barely a hip’s length apart. The pain prickles against your pussy’s wall, making you gag a sob around Taehyung’s cock. The pressure of Namjoon’s huge dick behind you and the weight of Taehyung’s in your mouth trembles your posture. You shake under the intimidation and it doesn’t help at all that Taehyung’s dick is suffocating you.

Namjoon pulls your head up the moment he fully enters. Gasping, you try to catch your breath. You inhale deeply each time, worried Namjoon will shove you back down on Taehyung’s cock without warning. Instead, he gives you a quick moment to breathe, ramming in and out of you like he’s riding a stallion.

Taehyung, eyes half-lidded, admires the way you drool and babble all over yourself. You heave, holding his gaze long enough to realize he’s mocking you, tongue out and breathes exasperated. Then he laughs and Namjoon laughs, and your pride shrivels up. Dignity on the brink of shattering, you try to avoid his gaze, biting your lip to swallow your moans as Namjoon works his way in and out of you.

But Taehyung will not have any of that. He nudges your wet chin back to him and teasingly pouts. “Is baby embarrassed?” he asks, tone more menacing than that taunting gaze of his. You glare at him, but he doesn’t seem fazed. Cupping your chin, Taehyung squeezes your cheeks to pucker your lips. “Answer me,” he seethes.

Parting your lips, you’re about to confirm his statement when Namjoon grunts behind you. He thrusts his hips particularly harder this time and your balance crumbles. You fall over Taehyung. He catches you with his lips, his hand trailing from your face to your neck and gripping onto it like he owns it.

Namjoon is displeased. With a growl, he snaps his hips up, balls shoving their way in you too. Your teeth knock with Taehyung, causing him to grunt and glare at the god behind you. You watch him stare your boyfriend down while tightening his grip on your neck. He goes to say something, a curse judging by the placement of his lips in his teeth, but Namjoon pulls you out of his grasp before Taehyung can even get a syllable out.

Replacing Taehyung’s hand with his own on your neck, Namjoon pulls you back up against his chest. His other hand wraps around your waist. Lips to the shell of your ear, he hammers into you and whispers, “Don’t go forgetting who you belong to.”

You hold Taehyung’s hard stare. His face reddens, cheeks drawn into his mouth as he glares. You whimper, pouting and nodding to Namjoon, but neither one of them seems convinced. Taehyung’s brows raise as if you’ve given him some sort of sign, and Namjoon’s hissing warnings against getting carried away.

“Better not say his name.”

Out of sheer spite, you part your lips to utter the other’s name. However, the word is consequently pounded right out of your mind the moment it emerges. Neither god gives you another moment to develop a reply at all as they battle for your attention. A part of you wishes that each of them simply takes turns, but you already know how useless that would be. Neither one of them will be willing to wait and watch. Namjoon already slipped himself in, the act of watching being too distant for him.

And it seems to be the same for Taehyung as well. He can’t sit still, can’t just watch you get ravished by someone else. You catch the annoyed twinkle in his eye darkening every time Namjoon makes you scream. Swallowing thickly, Taehyung shifts so that he’s lying by your knees and pulls the plump, upper flesh of your pussy apart. Then, smirking, he dips his head in and enthusiastically sucks on your clit. Teeth grazing, he bites and nibbles, drawing the most high-pitched squeals out of you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pushing his face further against your pussy.

Namjoon huffs a groan against your cheek. Pounding in full force, he loosens his grip on you a bit. Your hips jolt forward, Taehyung’s teeth clamping down on your clit. You cry out, both hands back over Namjoon’s arm. The god by your knees did not escape unscathed either, his lips slightly bruised from the hit. He drags his gaze up to you, glare deadly.

Guts twisting in ecstasy and guilt, you whimper and shake your head. “Sorr-”

Your apology clinches in your throat as Namjoon tightens his grip on it. “Shut the fuck up, you filthy whore,” he grunts into your hair.

Taehyung catches onto Namjoon’s sly gesture quickly, hungry eyes aflame for vengeance. “Keep her still, or I’ll fuck her into the ground.” His deep voice tickles the swirling pit of your stomach. So rich and raspy, his dulcet voice guides you closer to your orgasm than you’d be brave enough to admit.

Subsequently, Taehyung relatches his lips to your clit. Namjoon swallows enough of his pride not to shake him off again. And you shudder as high doses of ecstasy creep over your nerves. It pumps your veins with excitement, anticipation and sheer joy. Even when they’ve mocked you and used you as a pocket pussy- a set of holes, you cannot deny how horny it makes you for them.

Namjoon huffs your name in your ear, whispering about your tightness, about how he knows how fucking close you are. “Baby is gonna cream,” he mockingly coos. “Do you want him to taste you? Are you that much of a slut, you want another man to taste you? He’ll get addicted.” Namjoon grunts thrice before continuing, “But you already know that, right? You want him addicted. You want him to worship that little cunt of yours, hmm?”

“Yes, yes, yes, oh fuck yes!” you screech. Whether it is in reply to his questions or simply a reaction to the dual assault of your pussy, you’re not quite certain. But, Namjoon is. And he’s irate. Shaking with anger, his pounds reach a pace unknown to gods, even Taehyung raises an impressed brow.

Your next intake of air cinches somewhere in your throat. You try to scream, to cry, to make some sort of sound as your cum rushes out of you. Gushing, slouching, your pussy makes enough noise that your mouth doesn’t need to. Both men fall victim to it - to you - anyway. Squirming in Namjoon’s hold, there’s very little you can do. Your mind is foggy, vision blurry, but it doesn’t stop either of them. A distant clash of throaty moans fill the fields, though you can’t register much of that either. Your ears are ringing too much to hear more than your own heartbeat struggling to keep up.

Taehyung growls, his hands constantly knocking against Namjoon’s. Your dazed gaze falls to meet his. Eyes blazed with sexual frustration, he claws at your hips and pulls you forward against him. Namjoon, however, keeps a strong hold on your waist. Your torso’s his for the taking. He grabs hold of your chin and whips your head back to him.

“You look at me when you cum,” he seethes. “Or you won’t cum at all next time.”

Half a breath escapes you in response, but it seems to be half a breath too late. Namjoon emits a raspy groan so sinister it would be a crime to simply call it a growl. He roars. You feel the vibrations of the sound in your spine, another dose of your cum rushing through you. Then, all too quickly, he lets go of you. It takes his hands off your chest for you to realize your legs gave out long ago. You instantly fall to your knees. Taehyung is quick to catch you in his arms. Lips inches apart, Taehyung looks ready to share some of his oxygen with you when Namjoon orders, “Turn her around.”

Taehyung glares over your head. Gulping, his lips twitch in a fake smile as he lifts you. You, however, cannot let him give in that easily. Besides, nothing is better than angering the god of war. His stubborn, victory-bound heart will not rest until you submit to him over Taehyung. And, throwing you into the enemy’s arms does not seem like he’s trying hard enough to win, to discipline you. So, after Taehyung turns you around in his lap, you press a passionate kiss upon his lips, slipping your tongue in for good measure. Taehyung snakes his hand between your legs too, fingers playing all too much for you to stay silent. Between kisses, you sneak a glance at Namjoon, finding Taehyung already doing the same thing.

Towering over you, skin inked, nipples pierced, muscles flexed and slick with sweat, Namjoon huffs. His jaw is locked, a gesture you’ve learned isn’t at all meant to be comforting. With his cheeks sucked in and a brow quirked, Namjoon jerks himself off to the sight of you so openly defiant.

“Open your dirty mouth,” Namjoon orders through gritted teeth. “I need to clean it out.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, his fingers ceasing their movements as he cups your sex instead. “So dramatic,” he teases, earning a cold stare from Namjoon.

You resist the urge to giggle, having to choose your battles carefully. Taehyung has already gotten too much attention anyways, you decide. Pushing his hand away from your pussy, you ignore the wet kisses Taehyung peppers upon the nape of your neck and gaze up at Namjoon with your mouth open.

He bites his lip to keep from smirking. And, with a loud, chest drawn groan, he releases his load all over your chin and breasts. The warmth of his cum sets your skin ablaze. It feels just as thick as it tastes. Licking around your face, you try to swallow whatever you can get. A little smile breaks out on Namjoon’s face, swelling your heart with pride.

However, Taehyung isn’t as moved by the gesture as you are. He tangles a hand in your hair and pulls your head back against his shoulder. “That’s enough of that,” he breathes over your face. Then he wipes the rest of Namjoon’s cum off with the pad of his thumb and pecks your lips. He rubs the cum into your nipples, teasing them between his thumb and forefinger.

You almost forget Namjoon's presence. That is, until he grabs hold of your ankles and yanks you right out of Taehyung’s hold. With a loud gasp, you’re on your back, legs spread and Namjoon at the center. He gazes lazily down at you, like handling your body is a casual passtime. There is something glittering within that suspicious ease, however. Something cocky, angry, and terrifying. Hand around your neck, Namjoon jerks you off the floor and shoves you back into Taehyung’s arms.

The golden god catches you with a grunt. He draws his brows together in confusion, silently questioning Namjoon. He parts his lips, but your boyfriend huffs, cutting him off. Namjoon grabs you by your bicep and turns you around to face Taehyung.

After making sure your legs are spread and straddling the other god’s waist, Namjoon seethes, “The simplest instructions.” His warm tongue darts out to lick the shell of your ear. Between nibbles he continues, “You can’t even follow the simplest instructions. That can’t be easily forgiven anymore, baby.”

You’re not quite sure what he means, considering he’s never punished you in this position before. Usually, being on top is a reward. He grants you a sliver of control, consequence free, when you’ve been well-behaved. This level of generosity is a rarity. However, as Namjoon pushes you further into Taehyung, with you wrapped around his torso, you begin to wonder what kind of punishment you’re in for, and which one of them is administering it.

Of course, these thoughts are fleeting as Taehyung’s fat cock prods around your pulsing hole. Sparks of bliss set to flames the nerves bunching around your clit. You shudder each time he brushes his tip against it. Petting your hair back just to grab it, Taehyung breathes a chuckle into the crook of your neck. He licks and sucks on your delicate skin like you belong to him. And for a split second, you almost think you do. The sweet, wet kisses and the way he eases into you only just has you forgetting that Namjoon is standing over you, watching as another god worships.

With a smack, your memories jolt back. The sting of both cheeks makes you all too aware of his presence now. You cry out, falling over Taehyung clumsily. The spank hit so hard, so fast that it even has Namjoon hissing from the impact. Even still, he smacks you again and again and again. “You still have no idea what you’ve asked for, do you?” he questions.

You thought you did. You hoped you did. But, as Namjoon spanks you with added force, you realize just how right he is. You whimper into Taehyung’s shoulder. He’s kept his cock warm in your tight, clenching hole when Namjoon begins to get vicious with his spanks. Chuckling and mocking you in whispers, Taehyung finds your suddenly all too obedient state entertaining. It flames your face with shame, your entire body caught between wanting another serving of cock or slaps. He imitates your whimpers, coaxing more tears out of you before hissing, “If you had any real shame, you’d get off my cock and go suck your boyfriend’s.”

“She’s a fucking slut,” Namjoon answers, landing another slap to your tenders cheeks. “Why’d you stop fucking her?”

Some humanity flashes in Taehyung’s eyes as you nuzzle your face against his. He mutters something incoherent, along the lines of, “She can’t handle it.”

“She can!” Namjoon grunts as he finally rubs your pain buzzed ass. A shaky whine escapes you and tickles Taehyung’s ear. “You can take it, right, baby?” he asks, digging his nails into your flesh.

You whine in agreement. It’s not enough. He needs to hear you say- scream it. Grabbing a handful of your hair, he peels you off Taehyung enough for him to get a good look at your face. He folds his hands under his head, smirking at the sight of you so shattered by pleasure of being in pain. Face flushed, wet, cum stained and eyes innocent, your features fold in raptured anguish.

Namjoon roughly kneads your right cheek while pressing the length of his cock against it. “Can you take the fucking like a good girl?” He mockingly coos. It juts a chorus of shivers down your spine.

You squeeze tight around Taehyung at the thought. He rasps your name. Namjoon growls lowly, rubbing himself against you as he warns, “You’re not gonna make me ask you a third time, are you?”

Taehyung shifts his hips, cinching your breath at your throat from the stroke of friction. Why did he have to be so big, so pretty and hot staring at you like that? Why’d you have to go tempting gods you know you can’t keep up with? You regret angering Namjoon, realizing that jealousy is the worst power trip you can feed a god. They both want to watch you fall apart, crumble into a pile of bones. Tears spill at the thought, pussy aching around a cock too big to adjust to. Every nerve feels so sensitive, so overused, yet you need to cum again.

No. You can’t take it. But, you’ll be damned if you tell either of them that. And as Namjoon lays another sharp smack on your cheeks, tingling with pain, you circle your hips around Taehyung’s and cry out a broken, breathy and utterly desperate, “Y-es!”

Taehyung grips onto your hips, pulling you half out. You expect to be plunged onto his cock with a new degree of force, but find another one attempting to squeeze in as well. Namjoon’s monster cock pushing into your pussy alongside Taehyung’s. Your jaw drops, eyes roll back as that viciously delicious stretch strangles your soul with bliss. He enters you slow, but sharp, knowing full well that the both of them cannot fit.

Neither cares. Both gods create a quickly speeding rhythm of thrusts into you. Body jolting forwards, breasts shaking over Taehyung’s face and ass bouncing against Namjoon’s hips. He hunches over you to groan your name in your ear, voice husky with lust and dominance. He repeats the word like a prayer. Every syllable drips slow out of his lips like thick molasses when his voice reaches such depth.

You try to lean back into him, but Taehyung keeps you in place with the tight grip on your hips. “Stay still,” he grunts against your nipple. Then, he sucks on it, teasing the little nub between his teeth.

You moan a little too loud at Taehyung’s ministrations for Namjoon’s liking. Both hands locked on your ass, Namjoon pushing your cheek up and against Taehyung. You lose whatever balance you had weighted on your arms, falling flat against the sun god with a squeal. His cock fully plugs into you and when he tries to thrust up against you once more, Namjoon growls, “Both of you stay still.”

A shiver tickles your spine with the wind. As Taehyung kisses your neck, you attempt to sneak a peek at your boyfriend over your shoulder and push your ass back into him. He’s sweaty and huffing. The peachy sunset behind him halos around his muscular frame. He’s so pretty when he’s mad, all those veins lacing his inked skin like little spider webs. His gaze finds yours, that annoyed look intensifying in his eyes when you wink at him.

And though it was completely innocent, it still switches something off in Namjoon. He shifts his tight grip on your ass to the small of your back then, all at once, presses down onto it with the entirety of his strength. A series of loud cracks elicit from your spine like the fire of a gun at the start of a race. And away go his hips as he rams in and out of your too full pussy.

Screams and sudden sobs pour out of you and onto Taehyung as the both of you get shaken by Namjoon’s force. You know your back isn’t broken, blown out maybe, but definitely not broken. You just didn’t think this would be the result of his jealousy and anger. Did he think you were mocking him with that wink, with Taehyung? Perhaps some mocking did occur with Taehyung around, but he’s always liked your snarkier side. He tells you to behave because he knows you won’t and adores it when you don’t. But, maybe you did take it too far, and give into Taehyung too much. You really wish you can say, with all this overstimulating and teasing and taunting, that you regret it all.

Only, you don’t.

Clutching tighter onto Taehyung’s shoulders, your tears fall as freely as your broken moans. Namjoon smacks his hips over your ass, pounding your pussy like it’s just you two here. It’s not as though Taehyung is lying under you, obsessing over how tight you are and just how amazing you smell.

“You know why he’s so mad right,” he questions quietly, voice strained. When you shake your head, he chuckles and whispers, “Because he knows how much better I make you feel.”

The whimper that leaves you was by no means a response to whatever Taehyung was going on about. Though he gives it to you great, he doesn’t compare to your boyfriend. You suppose Namjoon knows this too, somewhere within that deep connection you two share. Still, he holds you further down against Taehyung, practically melding your body into his, and thrusts at an ungodly speed just as he did when he caught you sucking Taehyung’s cock.

You’re not sure either of them understand the load of pleasure they are washing over you. Taehyung has his giant cock stationed in your pussy with his tip pressing continuously against your g-spot as Namjoon’s monstrous cock jabs at it again and again.

Body trembling, voice broken, you squeal, “I’m- ahhgh I’m gon-na cuu-uum.”

“Me too,” Taehyung husks in your ear. It has you clenching tighter.

Namjoon scoffs through a moan. “No, you’re fucking not.”

“But, Joon-”

A harsh smack against your ass silences your protests. “You know what to do when you’re close,” he grunts.

Yes, you do. But there isn’t much time to beg. You have two huge cocks in you and if he thinks he can coax some sort of plea-

“Fuck,” you cry as he spanks you again.

“ASK!” he roars, hands on your back just to make it crack all over again.

Drooling, whimpering, eyes rolling, you somehow find it in you to hold back your orgasm long enough to beg, “Please, fuck, just let me cum! Please, please, Namjoon!”

“Just fucking let her cum,” Taehyung grunts.

Namjoon snakes one of his hands up your spine, hips still ramming into you all the same, and latching onto your hair. Slowly, he peels you off of Taehyung and holds you against his chest. You screw your eyes shut in an attempt not to cream both their cocks.

With his lips at your ear, he whispers, “Look down at him.” After forcing your eyes open and down at Taehyung, who looks all too pleased with your ruined state, Namjoon orders, “Thank him for a good time.”

Panting, lips a spitty mess, you whimper, “Thank you for a good time.”

Taehyung rubs your thighs. “She’s just as fun when she’s a good girl,” he hisses to himself.

Namjoon chuckles, wrapping his free hand around your throat. “You’re my best girl either way,” he whispers to you. The praise makes you shiver, your orgasm almost slipping right out of your control.

“Please let me cum now,” you cry. “Please, I need it.”

Taking a deep breath of your scent, Namjoon peppers little kisses along your jawline. “Shall we all cum together?” he asks before nodding to Taehyung. The sun god’s hips jolt back to act and soon each one is back to taking turns to smash your already too sensitive spot.

You nod energetically. Truthfully, you don’t care if either one of them cums, just as long as they let you do it now.

Taehyung shifts one of his hands further up your hips, his thumb working fast and small circles over your clit. You’re quaking, head thrown back against Namjoon’s shoulders, eyes rolling and screwed shut when Namjoon orders you to look at him. You force them open enough to watch a wicked swirl of power and lust gleam in his eyes. With a single breath, lips hovering over yours, he whispers, “Cum.”

Your vision spots black before failing all together as an extreme dose of ecstasy floods your senses. Their growls collide with your breathless screams in a cacophony of pleasure with each shot of cum they fill you with. And you return the favour, coating each cock with more cum than you think you’ve ever offered. In and out, they still go, desperate to leave you dripping with the impression of both of them for days.

Namjoon spits in your mouth a bit and chuckles quietly when you still find it in you to swallow it. “You just had to be a fucking brat, hmm?” he groans as both his and Taehyung’s thrusts slow down. “Are you satisfied now?”

You hear his words and think that maybe you are processing them, but you really can’t find enough of your voice or energy to respond. Heaving, you know your body gave out well before he even got you in this position and blew your back out. You don’t even realize that you’re slobbering all over yourself until Namjoon licks it all away. Only little whimpers and whines manage to reply to him. It only strengthens that power blown look in his eyes.

Taehyung suddenly pulls himself out of you. Or rather, Namjoon pulls you up and off his cock. Then, he stands up on his knees and presses a soft kiss to your mouth, despite Namjoon’s annoyed groan. “And thank you for such a great evening, my-”

“She’s not yours!”

You watch through somewhat blurry vision as the two gods glare at each other. Taehyung then glances over at the fig vines laced around the orange tree. With a smirk, he nods. His hands fondle your breast one more time before he grabs what little clothes he came with. Then, with the sun, he’s gone.

Basking in the glow of the moon, Namjoon slowly pulls out of you. His touches are now all too gentle to even register, or maybe your skin is simply still on fire from such a rough fucking. Either way, he’s careful in how he handles you now. Cradling you to his chest, he helps you lay down. He kisses your forehead and mutters, “Take a deep breath.”

You do so. Again and again. When you’re breathing somewhat regulates, your mind finally catches up with where you are now. Resting in Namjoon’s arms, his silk skirt draped over your body like a blanket, you gaze up at the stars.

“He planted figs,” Namjoon mutters.

You shift against his chest before shrugging. “He did.” You’re not sure why that simple detail seems to tick him off so much. They’re just figs.

“Do you still like oranges though?”

It suddenly clicks in your head. His anger translating into worry. Does he really think that you’d give him up for Taehyung? He should know you well enough to know he’s your world. And if you weren’t so sore or weak, you would have gotten up and picked the ripest orange and shared it with him. Instead, you turn in his lap, suppressing the urge to hiss at the sparks of pain running up and down your back, and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love oranges.”

He fights off a smile, but relief reflects in his gaze. “I’m sure they love you too,” he mutters like he hasn’t told you so before.

It all doesn’t matter too much anyways. He’s yours and you’re his. No other god, no matter how many times they stop by, will change that. This is, after all, your orange tree.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

1K notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

Update - Harry Styles

i’ve been deep inmy harry feels and this thought just wouldn’t leave me alone so i had to write it. im thinking about starting a taglist for harry, i think i’ll write more about him in the future. let me know if you’d be interested in the taglist!

word count: ~5.9k

masterlist

Sequel: The best present

Harry is not that into YouTube videos, has never really been, which is kind of ironic seeing the number of videos on the internet that is about him. The man himself who makes everyone talk online feels weird seeing someone talking on his screen, looking into his soul as if they were right there with him. But today he felt the sudden urge to be like his peers and get lost in random rambling videos from strangers, who felt the need to put themselves out there.

He has made a mean cup of tea for himself, made himself comfortable on his couch with his laptop balancing on his thighs and now is opening up his browser to unwind in an unusual way. As YouTube opens in front of his tired eyes, he stops when he tries to type in the keywords he is searching for. What is he looking for really? He thinks to himself trying to remember what he heard from his friends when they talked about funny or interesting videos. One thing is for sure, he is trying to avoid watching videos of himself in any content. He has had enough of him for the day, it’s time to focus on someone else, even if he doesn’t know the person.

He scrolls through several pages of many different keywords until he settles for a video where a girl talks about how her latest moving day went. Starting off Harry feels weird listening to her talk about such personal things as where her bed went in her room, how she packed all her stuff to fit them in the boxes, but soon enough this feeling settles and he starts to realize it’s kind of relaxing.

It doesn’t take too long for him to fall down a rabbit hole and by the time his tea empties out from his cup he is intensely watching a guy rant about his boss at Subway while doing a mukbang. The latter is a new discovery for Harry, he has never heard of it before, but he can see why some people find it satisfying.

The video ends, Harry checks the time and sees that it’s already after midnight and he hasn’t even realized how fast time flew by.

“Alright, just one more,” he mumbles to himself scrolling down the column of the recommended videos until his eyes stop at one particular upload at the very bottom.

July update for my Sammy, ready the title and an eye-catchingly beautiful girl is smiling from the thumbnail. He finds her breathtaking, the lack of makeup, the worn out hoodie she is wearing and the many various plants in the background makes it appear she is sitting in the middle of the forest.

Harry finds himself clicking on the video before he could even decide consciously to watch it. The screen loads and the girl appears in front of him, this time in a much larger size.

“Hi Sammy, welcome back to our channel,” she starts with an angelic little laugh as she pulls her shoulders up to her ears as if the camera is making her shy. She has no reason to be shy, Harry thinks to himself. His second thought is about Sammy, he is one lucky guy to know this angel and have her think about him. “It’s Y/N here, your one and only sister,” she adds.

Sister. The word brings Harry relief and he is surprised to feel this way, but he has no time to think anything of it because she starts talking again.

“Here is my July update, I’m sorry I’m a little late, but we got back from Oregon yesterday. Aunt Ella is sending you kisses and hugs, she missed you at the barbeque, or maybe it was just your helping hand at the grill,” she chuckles to herself, probably recalling the memory.

Harry has no idea who Aunt Ella is or where she lives in Oregon, but the way she talks about it makes him feel like he is part of the family a little.

Y/N carries on and starts talking about everything that has happened in July. Painting the shed at her parents’ home, buying a new armchair, one her cat absolutely adores and refuses to sleep anywhere else now, she went to the hairdresser to get a trim, but not too much. She tells about her plans for August, how she is thinking about going to the farmers’ market more often, and she has been playing with the idea of adopting another cat.

“I think Henry has been feeling a little lonely lately. He could use a buddy,” she tells the camera, her eyes moving to the side from where a weak but moody meow can be heard as an answer. “Yeah, I think he agrees,” she chuckles and Harry finds himself smiling at the screen.

At the end of the video she asks a few questions from Sammy, how he has been doing, if his wrist feels any better, even asks about a friend called Matthew. Harry wonders if she has ever gotten the answers to her questions and where Sammy saw this video. What is he doing that made her want to do an update on YouTube?

When the video ends Harry clicks on her profile faster than he would willingly admit to anyone and it’s like he opened the gate to paradise. Tens and maybe hundreds of videos are queuing on her page, monthly updates, birthday wishes, short story times about family gatherings, news and happenings in her life.

Harry gets lost in her tales. He watches video after video, noticing the smallest details about her, almost mentally taking notes about her updates, finding anything and everything she talks about so interesting as if he knew those people and places she mentions. He comes to realization that Sammy is her older brother who is serving somewhere in the military. Y/N is making the videos to update him about her life even if she knows most of them doesn’t get to him until weeks later, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. He also learns that Sammy sends them back lengthy emails once a month and always ends them with a joke they made up with his mates at the army. Y/N loves them even when they're not even funny, she never fails to mention that she smiled reading them.

Hours pass by and the rising Sun peeks inside the window pulling Harry back to his own reality, shocked that he just spent the whole night watching her videos and didn’t even realize how deep he has gotten in her life. Lucky for him he has nothing planned until the afternoon, so shutting his laptop he sets it aside and heads straight to bed, but lying between his silky sheets he catches himself staring out the window, wondering what Y/N might be doing right now. From what he collected she lives somewhere in Spokane and has family in Seattle and Portland, which puts her quite a few time zones behind him. He finds the thought of them going to bed at the same time despite the distance a little funny. He lies in bed for quite some time before he finally drifts off to sleep with a particular girl on his mind, who doesn’t even know he is thinking about her.

“Do you think you can fall for someone you have never met?”

Harry’s question catches Mitch a little off-guard, but he is kind of used to his random bits of thoughts. Pouring some sugar into his coffee he follows the wondering singer to a free table in the corner.

“Isn’t it what all your fans feel?” he answers with a question, earning a surprised look from Harry. He hasn’t thought about this side, now the situation is kind of ironic, he supposes.

“Y’re right,” he nods stirring his coffee around in the small cup.

“Want to let me in on your thoughts?”

Harry feels a little shy to admit how he has watched all of her videos in the past few days, 207 to be exact and now he feels an oddly deep connection to this girl he has never even seen outside of a screen. Last night he dug up her Instagam profile, and even though she is not posting as frequently as she does on her channel, it was a refreshing change to see her in different settings. Chilling at a lake, having drinks with her friends, playing with her parents’ puppy, it amazed him that she has a whole life outside that small portion she lets him see in her videos.

Hesitantly, but he tells his friend about his latest hobby, if it’s not too weird to call it that, while his friend patiently listens and nods along his words while sipping on his morning coffee.

“D’you think I’m crazy?” Harry sighs leaning back in his seat, looking at his friend and colleague for validation that he hasn’t lost his mind entirely.

“Definitely not,” he chuckles shaking his head. “It’s like falling for that girl in school you know so much about but never really met.”

“Only that I’m stalkin’ this poor girl.”

“This is not stalking. We both know it’s far from that.” Harry nods with slight relief that his situation doesn’t seem as bad as he has been feeling lately. “Have you gotten in touch with her?”

“And what am I supposed to do? Comment on her video that I think her cat’s a cutie and I watched all her videos in three days ‘cuz I think she’s beautiful and I find her voice soothing?”

Mitch lets out a soft chuckle at the oddly specific answer he just gave and finds it amusing how interested his friend has grown about someone in such a short time.

“Maybe phrase it a little different.”

“So you do think I should reach out?”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t. Use your personal YouTube, leave her a nice comment. Maybe she’ll reply.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know, Harry,” he chuckles. “Just go with it and you’ll see. You are obviously interested in her, it’s better than just sit and watch her videos.”

Harry agrees. It wouldn’t hurt to try to reach out to her, possibly in a not too creepy way. Maybe just a sweet comment on one of her videos and if she replies… Well, he doesn’t know what comes after, but he’ll figure it out.

Y/N updates regularly. Usually once a week and mostly it’s Sunday when a new video gets uploaded. This next Sunday Harry finds himself checking her page occasionally through the day to see if there’s a new update, but it seems like she is missing today. Right until he is driving home and gets a notification from the app.

Y/N has just uploaded a new video! It reads and Harry’s heart beats a tad bit faster. He thinks about pulling over to see it right away, but he tells himself that would be a bit too much, so he is forced to wait until he is in the comfort of his home.

Finally sitting on his couch he opens up his laptop and clicks on the video that has the title: September update.

Y/N sits in her usual spot, Henry in her arms as she is gently stroking his head with a warm smile on her face.

“Hi Sammy! Welcome back to our channel,” she greets him with her usual words and Harry loves how she calls the channel theirs. “This is my September update, even though not much has happened,” she breathes out, eyes wandering to the window besides her and Harry wonders what she sees from her window every day. Does she live in the city? Is it an apartment or a house with a backyard? Are there any trees or does her room have a terrible view, maybe just another house next to hers?

She starts her talk about the month, which she spent mostly with working, a little shopping and meeting her friends. She tells him about her planned trip to the local shelter to see possible new kittens to add to her household and Harry feels himself growing excited about it. He even thinks about what kind of cat he can see get along well with Henry even though he has never even met him.

“Anyway, mom and dad miss you, I miss you too. I loved your joke about ducks in your latest email,” she chuckles sweetly, bringing a smile to Harry’s face as well. “Mom is excited to see you at Christmas, our cousins will come to Portland as well. Maya can’t wait to play Jenga with you, she said she’s been practicing.”

The video soon ends as Y/N tells Sammy how much she loves him and eventually turns the camera off.

He straight away moves the cursor to the beginning of the video and as she starts talking again he scrolls down to the comment section that’s entirely empty. There are only two views on her video, usually a hundred is the max, but she doesn’t seem to care about the views, it’s more about the message.

He clicks to type a comment, but his hands stop above the keyboard as he tries to think of what to write. Mitch was right about taking a chance at reaching out, but what is he supposed to write exactly? Everything that comes to his mind sounds so creepy and scary, and he knows it’s weird that he formed such a deep connection to an unknown girl online. At last he starts typing.

“Hi Y/N! I’ve stumbled across your videos the other day. Love how you keep your brother updated, it’s such a nice gesture. I hope life treats you and Sammy well, you truly deserve it. Good luck with finding a buddy for Henry! Love, an admirer of yours, H.”

He reads it back several times, deleting then retyping it again until he decides to just go with it. A rush of adrenaline washes over his body when he sends the comment and it’s officially out there. Secretly he wishes she would reply right away, but moments pass by, then moments turn into minutes and nothing happens. His comment stands there alone and he has to realize that maybe she will never even reply or even see it.

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself as he shuts the laptop down and goes on to do his things, but he finds his thoughts wander over to her from time to time.

He has a busy day ahead of him the next day, quite a few meetings and a fitting. He checks back for a reply in the morning, but it slips his mind the moment he leaves from home and his phone rings right away. Throughout the day he basically barely has time to check his emails, his other notifications are just sitting patiently on the bar, waiting for him to acknowledge them. It’s way past five in the afternoon when he finally have some time for himself after his fitting. He is sitting in his car, people walk past him without even realizing who is sitting behind the tinted windows. Scrolling down he gets rid of everything that doesn’t seem urgent until his eyes stop at one particular notification.

“Y/N replied to your comment,” he reads it out loud, just to make it real, as if he is seeing it wrong and saying it with his own mouth brings it to life. He quickly taps on it and the familiar video opens up and while Y/N starts talking again the screen jumps down to the comments where, in fact, there is a reply from her.

“Dear H! Thank you for your heartfelt comment! I always forget it’s not just my family who sees these videos, but I’m happy you found them interesting enough to watch a few of them.”

“A few?” Harry huffs to himself feeling a little ridiculous he has watched all of them.

“I hope I didn’t bore you too much. Thank you for the well wishes for me, my brother and Henry too. He is sending his love to you. Y/N xx”

The comment was posted three hours ago. The thought that she has acknowledged his existence with not only reading but also replying to his comment brings him extreme joy. He reads her words over and over again, looking for any clue that would give away that she found his comment weird, but it seems like she was more surprised and happy that someone else saw her video besides her brother. Harry starts to type his reply without hesitation.

“Bore me? You saved me from watching another “what’s in my bag” video the other day. It was a pleasant change. I love your plants, by the way. Your room always gives off the most relaxed vibes. It reminded me I should have more of them in my home. H”

Harry smiles to himself posting his comment, the fear of appearing like a stalker long gone from him, the interaction is making his inside blossom from joy. For his biggest surprise a reply appears just a few minutes away and Harry reads Y/N’s new lines with deep hunger.

“Those videos suck the life out of me every time! I might be having a problem with buying too many plants, but I can’t help myself. They truly bring peace to me just by looking at them. I’m glad you are planning on buying some more, you won’t regret it!”

Harry is dying to reply, but he doesn’t want to look too eager and needy, so he opts for just liking her comment to let her know he read it and agrees. He locks his phone and puts it aside with the widest smile on his face as he starts his car and leaves his parking spot.

Two weeks pass by. In those two weeks Y/N uploads two more videos, one about her time with her grandparents, for a change it was filmed at their home and they even said hello in it. Harry feels wholesome seeing her with her granny and grandpa, it’s clear she cares a lot about them. The other video is just a short one where she has met some of Sammy’s old high school friends and she had a check in from them, sending a sweet message to him through the video. Harry doesn’t doubt how much these little things mean to Sammy, even if he doesn’t get to see them right away. Seeing Y/N alone boosts his mood every time she uploads a new video, he can only imagine how they make Sammy feel.

He leaves comments on her videos without a second thought and she replies to all of them, a lot of the time almost immediately. These are the highlights of his days without exception. Knowing that she has anything to do with him just fascinates him and he is starting to realize what his fans feel towards him on a different level. Whenever he sees the notification that she has replied to what he wrote or that she uploaded a new video he flies right to her page to check it, no matter what he is doing. Some of their comment threads turn out pretty lengthy, almost like a chat conversation and it has Harry wonder how they could maybe move it to somewhere else from the comment section.

He wants to ask for her number, but figures it wouldn’t be the best idea. Regardless of how much he enjoys their short little conversations, the situation is still weird and complicated and he doesn’t want to forget that.

But he is pleasantly surprised when she brings it up herself, to move the conversation to somewhere else.

“Would love to discuss that more with you. Up for exchanging IG names?” her question reads and he blinks a few before he fully comprehends that she wants to talk to him more in private. However there’s no way he can send her his real Instagram profile and making a fake one would be way too suspicious. Opening up the private messages he sends her a short, but informative message.

“I don’t use Instagram, but feel free to text me,” and then his phone number.

He sits at the dinner table anxiously, waiting for his phone to light up from a new text, and just a few minutes later it finally comes.

“Hi! It’s Y/N,” he reads from the notification and he saves the number right away.

“Hello! Save me as Harry. I haven’t even told you my name yet, how rude of me!” he replies chuckling to himself.

“Will let it slip this time. Harry. What a nice name!”

“Is it what you thought about from the H?”

“It was one of my theories. The other one was Hayes, but Harry fits you better.”

“You haven’t even seen me, how do you know what name fits me?”

“I don’t know. You had a vibe. There are many great Harries in the world, you seemed to fit between them!”

Harry wonders if she is thinking about him without even knowing that… it is him. He wants to ask her, but decides not to. Instead, he is enjoying that he can now reach her immediately and not through a comment section. He never thought this would actually happen.

The texts never stop. They have so much to talk about! Their entire life to share, millions of thoughts and so much to discuss! Harry is not proud of the time he has spent with his eyes glued to his phone, but he wouldn’t miss a chance to talk to her for anything. Their friends are not blind to the change in him, but Mitch is the only one with a guess about why he has gotten so addicted to his phone.

“Is it the girl from the videos?” he asks Harry one time when they are at the studio, having lunch break. Different food boxes are scattered around them, on the table and the couch. Harry’s phone just light up from a text and he immediately dropped his lunch to type a response.

He glances up at his friend with a shy smile nodding his head. He hasn’t talked about his newly funded friendship with Y/N yet, it feels like as if he tells it to anyone it might evaporate into just a dream.

“So you reached out, huh?”

“I did,” he nods returning to his food once his message is sent. “She’s great.”

“Does she know who she is talking to?” Harry’s lack of answer tells enough about the truth to Mitch. “You can’t hide forever, especially if you are planning on meeting her.”

“I know,” he answers shortly. “But I just don’t know how I could even bring it up to her without sounding like a mad man.”

“She’ll need proof.”

“M’not ready to show m’self to her. What if it changes everything?”

“Then it wasn’t worth it,” he simply tells him.

Deep down Harry knows it’s the truth, but he is not ready to be robbed from the joy she is bringing him. He has never felt such a deep connection to anyone before and they haven’t even met. It’s just a version of her he is seeing on the screen, not her real self. But it feels real to him and he wants to keep this reality to himself for just a little longer.

“I wish I could hear your voice, Harry. You are one big mystery to me, you know that?”

He forgets to breathe for a moment as he reads her message, lying in bed one evening, getting ready to sleep, but he wanted to check in with her before ending the day.

“You know so much about me already,” he types back.

“Not enough, I feel like. Sometimes I’m afraid Nev and Max are about to show up at my door and tell me that I’ve been catfished.”

He chuckles at her words, though he completely understands her fear.

“What do you want from me then?”

“Send me a voice message so I know you are real. That would put my suspicion to sleep. For a while…”

Harry hesitates for a long time until he decides just one voice message couldn’t hurt. Just a short one where his voice is not that recognizable so his cover won’t be over immediately.

“Good night, Y/N,” he tells into his phone and then send the recording to her.

He watches the status change from delivered to read and a couple of minutes go by before she finally responds.

“Thank you. Now I know that you are real. I hope I’ll hear your voice in real life one day.”

“I hope that too.”

His time spent undercover is coming to an end and he knows it’ll happen soon. It’s been weeks since they started chatting, almost an entire month and she’s been hinting her will to see his face and though he has been putting it off, he knows it has to happen.

Fate is playing under his hands, because he is traveling to Seattle for a few days, exactly when Y/N is traveling there to visit her parents.

“I hope you know you can’t leave without meeting finally,” she wrote when she found out they are going to be in the same city.

“It never even crossed my mind!” he wrote back chuckling to himself, however it brought him extreme anxiety that he is now going to be forced to come clean about who he really is.

He spends his whole flight to Seattle making up possible outcomes for their first official meeting. Not all of them end well and it’s just fueling his fear that he might lose her for not telling her the entire truth.

But she is a smart girl, she’ll see your reasoning, he tells himself, however he can’t entirely convince himself that it will be the case.

In hopes of squeezing in more than just one meeting into the weekend they agreed to meet almost first thing after he lands. So after checking into his hotel he heads into the city to finally meet her in real life in a local café she suggested for the occasion. Arriving to the place he is running a little late and she already texted him she’ll be waiting for him inside. Harry is wearing a beanie with shades to try to keep up his cover and it seems to be working, no one has approached him yet.

Stepping inside the cozy looking place his eyes roam around and immediately finds her sitting in the corner, pouring sugar into her coffee, not even paying attention to the door at the moment, but truth is she’s been intensely staring at it in the past ten minutes she has been there.

Harry takes a deep breath and nods to himself before heading in her way, hands shaking nervously as he stops at her table.

She glances up at him with innocent eyes, a smile spreads across her face as she sees that her mysterious Harry has arrived and she doesn’t recognize her until he finally takes his sunglasses off.

Harry watches her face turn from happiness to surprise then utter shock as she realizes who is standing in front of him.

“You are… my Harry?” she asks, confusion laced through her voice and Harry can’t ignore how she called him her Harry. He likes the ring of it.

“M’orry if it’s a little too much f’you, I really didn’t know how to tell ya.”

Keeping his eyes on her he pulls out the other chair at the table and takes a seat across her while she is still staring at him with a shocked and puzzled expression sitting on her face. Then she looks around in suspicion as he wiggles his coat off his arms, before her eyes settle on him once again.

“It’s not an episode of Catfish, right?” she asks making him chuckle.

“It is not, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry if I’m being weird, but this was literally the last thing I was expecting,” she admits leaning back in her seat. “I believed things like this only happen in movies.”

“Not just there,” he smiles, slowly relieving that she is still sitting there and hasn’t ran out. It’s going way better than he expected.

She needs a little time to put the whole picture together and befriend the thought that she indeed just developed a friendship with Harry Styles through her videos for her brother. The absurdity is still shocking to her, but the more time passes by with him still sitting there, the more she finds peace with it.

Once the shock and surprise is gone they slowly realize they are seeing each other in real life finally. Harry feels overwhelmed, she is even more breathtaking than in her videos and through texts. He is mesmerized by her whole being and could listen to her talk in person forever, he wouldn’t get bored of her.

Time stops existing as they sit at the little café, talking for hours even though that’s all they’ve been doing through texts, but they just can’t get enough of hearing each other, seeing each other’s reaction and be able to see each other and not stare at a screen while talking.

Unfortunately, time never stopped just for the two of them and soon she realizes she needs to head back home. Harry doesn’t want to let go of her just yet so he offers to give her a ride, thanking himself for getting a rental for himself upon arriving. Y/N accepts the offer so the two of them head back to her parents’ home, soaking up the last minutes of their precious time spent together.

“Thank you for today, I really loved meeting you finally,” she smiles at him once they are parked on the driveway.

“I hope I didn’t shock you too much,” he chuckles scratching his chin.

“Just a little,” she admits before they both get out of the car and walking around it she stops in front of him, after a moment of hesitation she opts for a hug that he returns more than happily.

It feels as if her frame was perfectly sculpted to fit in his embrace and Harry can’t imagine how he could go this long without even seeing her in person. He knows it’s gonna be utter misery to be away from her after they leave the city.

“Will I see you before you take off?” she asks letting go of him. Harry looks down at her, the urge to kiss her growing bigger with each passing moment, but he is not sure if it would be appropriate to give it a try on their first time meeting.

“I’m free tomorrow for a lunch,” he tells her and she nods smiling.

“Then I’m free too,” she chuckles.

There’s an awkward moment where they are not sure what else should be done or said and the more they wait the weirder it’s getting so Harry clears his throat as he takes a step back, sad that he has to leave without feeling her lips on his, but he is not trying to be too greedy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he smiles walking back to his car. Y/N waves after him and sitting back to behind the wheel he takes a moment to himself to collect himself after everything that has happened today. His hands curl around the wheel and he is about to start the car when someone knocks on the window. Y/N is smiling at him through the glass and he rolls it down curiously.

“I just…” she starts hesitantly, her eyes wander down to his lips and Harry knows what’s about to happen, but it still catches him by surprise.

Y/N leans in through the window and presses her lips to Harry’s, capturing them in a sweet, long awaited first kiss they both have been dreaming of for quite a while. Harry smiles into the kiss, bringing his right hand up to cup her cheeks as they stretch the moment for as long as possible. Whenever one pulls back the other brings them back for just one more kiss that turns into two more, then three… It takes a long time for them to finally let go of each other.

“See you later, H,” she smiles backing out of the car and running up to the front door, smiling wildly as she waves in his way one last time before disappearing in the house.

Lying in bed that evening Harry is scrolling through his Instagram feed when he finally realizes he can now follow her without a worry. He is quick to find her profile again and hit that follow button. He is happy to see she was already following him.

He is just about to put his phone aside and go to bed after such a busy but exciting day when a notification pops up on the screen.

Y/N has just uploaded a new video!

He taps on it quickly and her smiling face greets him from his phone’s screen.

“Hi Sammy! It’s me again. Welcome back to our channel,” she starts with a shy smile. The setting is new this time, he supposes it’s her parents’ home this time. “This is going to be a short video, but I wanted to tell you about something. Or someone.”

Harry’s heart skips a beat when he thinks about where it’s heading. He listens to her voice holding his breath.

“I met someone today. We’ve been talking for a while, but I could finally hug him today. His name is Harry, and he is a wonderful man. I think you two would get along well,” she says with a soft chuckle. “I love spending time with him and I hope he feels the same way. Actually…” Her eyes move up straight to the camera, something she doesn’t do often. She usually stares out the window or plays with Henry while talking. “I think he is watching it right now. Hi Harry!”

“Hello, Beautiful,” he greets her back with a smile as if she could hear him.

“I wanted to tell you how amazing you are making me feel. I hope I didn’t disappoint. I was so nervous to meet you today, I hope I lived up to what you imagined me to be.”

“You were so much better than that,” he answers again.

“Anyway… I hope you feel the same way. You are the first guy I’m talking about in an update, so appreciate it!” she tells him and he chuckles lightly. “I’ll see you soon, H. But until then… Know that I’m thinking about you.”

“M’thinking about you too, Angel.”

“Sammy, I miss you as always. I hope everything is well, can’t wait for your next email. I love you,” she smiles before the video ends.

Harry heads straight to the comments. This time he doesn’t leave a lengthy one, just a short line, but it has everything he wanted to tell her.

“I feel the same way.” The comment reads. Just a few seconds later comes the notification and he smiles sweetly at his phone.

Y/N liked the comment.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry #styles #one direction #harry styles fanfictions

1K notes · View notes