#anyway people are like flowers they bloom in their own time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munsonthings86 · 16 days

Text

sunkissed

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: soft morning sex w steve <3

warnings: cursing, fluff, clingy!steve, established relationship, smut, praise, tipsy sex, oral (f receiving), penetration, no protection use

an: today (apr. 14) is the day steve and sunshine met ;) so i wrote something a lil special for them. hope you guys enjoy! *minors dni*

wc: 4.1k

steve and sunshine’s timeline

It couldn't have been later than six a.m. The waking sun shed an amber light that tinted your white sheer curtains, as they gently swayed in the brisk morning breeze. The wind blew harshly at times, prompting the sleepy boy next to you to nuzzle desperately closer to your heated touch. His lush, chocolate hair tickled your cheek as his head rested softly against yours when he abandoned his own pillow.

A freckled arm held you tightly against him as he spooned you, a breath that still smelled of beer and some other alcohol fanning your cheek. Usually, you recoil at the sour stench of liquor on people, but you couldn't help but to find it a bit endearing at the moment.

It was Steve after all. You found countless things about him endearing. Even his smelly little morning alcohol breath.

Sailing curious, feather-like fingers across his tanned skin that shined in the golden light, you stared at him in awe. His neck was still littered with stains of your lipstick from where you kissed him the night before. If you weren't so comfortable where you laid, trapped in this blanket of Steve, you'd rush to sneak a picture on your polaroid.

You knew exactly which one of your purses you'd want to keep the picture in too. It was only fair seeing as he kept his own photo of you in his wallet. And another on the dashboard of his BMW. And another on his bedside table.

It began getting hard to keep track of them all. Steve didn't mind though. When Steve would be having a less than ideal day, a rare but not uncommon occurrence, he couldn't avoid the grim ache of how much he missed you. It was such a treat when he would randomly stumble upon a picture of you somewhere, powerless against the blush and smile that would come.

The brightness of your room was blinding and unforgiving to the headache your hangover brought. Your hazy eyes stung when you tried to ogle the sunrise but you willingly gazed anyway. The sky was a gentle blue, cloudless, and full of melodic birds.

The moon still sat high and mighty, glowing, as it was being kissed by the sun's light.

It was such a breathtaking sight. A needle of guilt pricked you when you realized that you were witnessing it all alone.

Your fingers twitched when you thought about waking Steve, but he just looked too peaceful sleeping like this; lips puffy and dry from all his snoring and sleepy mumbles— hair perfectly untamed. Some rogue strands fell over his eyes, enticing you to gently sweep them behind his ears, careful not to wake him.

He groaned when you were unable to resist scratching at his scalp, eyebrows furrowing as his tired eyes failed to stay open. Not careful enough, apparently. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," you apologized in a hushed tone, apologetic smile to match.

"That's alright," he mumbled through a small grin, exhaustion weighing his voice down. Unfolding his body from the curled position he was in, his body tensed when he full-body stretched. You loved watching Steve wake up. It was like watching a flower bloom in real time. "What time is it?"

"Almost six," you responded after taking a glance at the dainty clock hung above your vanity. Steve's eyes widened as if he was startled. "Jesus, why're you up so early," you think you hear him say through his yawn. He laid his head down on your chest when he settled.

The hair that draped over his face was pushed back by your fingers so you could admire his lengthy eyelashes from this angle. "Maybe because somebody wouldn't stop kicking me in his sleep," you quipped, poking a finger at his side.

He scoffed in return before adjusting his head to stare back at you, "Well, I hope you find the guy who did that because I, personally, do not kick in my sleep."

You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, tell that to my leg." Steve shrugged as if you insisted on the matter, tossing the duvet over his head before trailing down to your legs. "What're you-"

The question was cut off with a muttered, "I do not kick in my sleep." He prodded at your thigh after each word to accentuate his (false) statement. Giggling at him, you waited for him to return from under the covers but he didn't move. It fell a bit quiet even. "Did ya get lost down there, Harrington?"

"Something like that," soft, sedative kisses to your hip punctuated his reply. It was so easy to be distracted once he had this view of you. Plump thighs that he wanted to sink his teeth into, stomach that he wanted to pepper kisses on, and a tempting honeypot that made his mouth water, on full display for him.

It was a trap that he unintentionally fell into, but was fully delighted to be in, nonetheless. You lifted the duvet from over his head, tittering at the mischievous grin on his face.

Pushing the oversized white shirt that belonged to Steve once upon a time above your belly button, he found comfort between your legs. A knot in the pit of your stomach formed at the tasty mix of curiosity and anticipation manifesting from all that was unfolding.

With booze still lingering in your system, your body was more sensitive than usual. Every little touch Steve gave you sparked electricity along your skin and, greedily, your body chased the sensation each time, clearly unable to stave off its hunger.

His hair tickled you dangerously close to your core and your body seemed to have a mind of its own, hips bucking up on his face involuntarily.

He simply smirked at you, indiscreetly relishing in the way you reacted to him so easily. So needily. Grabbing at your waist, the pads of his fingers pressed hard onto you, and you were sure the two of you would fuse. Your eyebrows pinched themselves together, tighter and tighter, the more impatient you became, mumbled pleas stumbling out of your lips.

Steve reluctantly broke eye contact with you to look down at your heated core that he was certain was desperate for his attention.

Pinning your lower half to the mattress, he left a few taunting pecks to your lacy underwear, loving the way your puffy lips felt against his mouth. A low groan eluded Steve when your nails tugged lightly at his roots after clutching a handful of his hair. The vibration from the sound was like a dull shock to your pulsating cunt.

As if the kisses weren't egging you on enough, the tip of his tongue started flitting about, sweetly licking at your clit and in between your folds. His movements were slow and calculated; giving you just enough but leaving much to be desired, all at once. It was becoming unbearable.

Any discipline you had left in you was long gone.

With one hand gripping Steve’s hair and the other twisting at a stiffened nipple, you tried to keep yourself steady as you grinded yourself against Steve’s face while quiet moans fell from your lips.

His tongue had quit its dance and he wasn’t kissing where you needed him anymore. Instead, he grinned; gawking at you through his eyelashes as you selfishly didn't stop using his face to get what you wanted.

It's almost too much to look at him.

His cock twitched and strained against his boxers, savoring the way you were getting so lost in pleasure. Steve caught how you struggled to maintain eye contact with him whilst you shamelessly flaunted your lack of self restraint.

The pillow by your head fell victim to the squeezing and kneading trap of your hand, helping to keep you grounded. Soft whimpers that poked through the silence of the room were nothing short of music to his ears. Steve always found himself captivated when you got like this. You were so hot.

It’s almost too much to look at you.

"Steve," you fussed. "It's too early to be teasing me like this." Though you were being sincere, you laughed a bit amid your desperation. Steve's carelessness to shave for the past few days left stubble on his jaw and the friction it gave you against your soaked panties was too enthralling.

"Never too early for that," he laughed, tracing a finger along the intricate patterns of your racy bottoms, "but anything for my princess."

He could never say no to you. There were no bounds to what his angel deserved. Your body was hungry and his mouth was thirsty.

Fingers wrapped around the hem of the flimsy material, he unveiled your needy core to his even needier mouth. He drew his own undergarments down with a single hand, the other finding your waist as he settled himself between the sweet temptation of your legs once more.

Steve garnered a mouthful of saliva before slowly spilling it onto your cunt. He watched, mouth agape, as it crept, long, wet and sloppy from the top of your sex to the bottom. It blended in seamlessly with all the arousal pooling around your folds and dripping down your ass.

A reflexive moan slipped from you when he blew cool air onto it, the sensitivity making your body react. He hummed, staring intently at your gorgeous, sopping hole. Any minute now, he was going to be drooling all over himself.

He dotted smooches to your bikini line, addicted to how the sounds you made practically begged him to ease the burden between your legs. Tongue swiping across his lips as if he was starved, he was certain that you were the most appetizing thing he had ever laid eyes on.

His dark, lustful eyes never left yours while he laid his tongue flat against your vagina, a pleased sigh luring itself out at the taste. The sudden contact hoisted your body off the bed.

Steve's eyes flutter shut when you let out the prettiest moan for him. It only drives him to devour you deeper, completely determined to lap up every drop of your nectar. He was already eager to feel you clench and shake against him as you came. The thought alone sent his body to grind his erection against the firm bed.

The satin sheets you dressed your mattress in were smooth and kind of cold on his cock.

Watching Steve like this was so hypnotizing. Him embraced by your thighs, hair wild, eyebrows knitted with threads of lust and focus, chin soaked from making out with your pussy, and fucking himself on your bed from how feral he was; it was all so dirty it left you speechless.

He didn't even have to touch you, really. Just seeing him be so primal was enough to leave you a moaning mess. Brainless for him. Fuck.

Steve's tongue instantly lands on your clit when he goes to tease it, being so familiar with your body and all. He was so hooked on the way you tasted, that he would eat you for hours on end, if you'd let him. He didn't tire. Steve loved the way he could send you into a frenzy with just his tongue. He got so much pleasure from seeing you in pleasure. It was so fucking sexy.

You were already close to your peak considering how aroused and needy you'd been for the past few minutes. Whining when he unlatched from you, he hushed you, running a thumb from your clit down to your entrance.

He didn't warn you before slipping in his long, slender pointer finger and you both let out a satisfied groan. While you moaned at the penetration, Steve moaned at the way your warm, dripping cunt easily dragged him in, gripping his digit. He used his hand to help you reach the high he knew was coming, curling and pumping in and out of you just the way you liked.

His mouth wasn't done with you yet, though.

Steve's tongue was frantic and slippery across your wetness. Your fingers were lost and running amuck in his brunette tresses as you struggled to cling onto reality. Legs trembling and chest heaving as your breathing got rapid, "Steve, Steve, Steve," tore out of you as if it was the only word in your vocabulary.

You didn't have to say anything else. He knew exactly what time it was.

"Mhm," he hums into you. The resonance from his voice tickles your clit perfectly and it's what you need to launch you over the edge. You slipped into a deep pool of euphoria, completely coming undone for him.

Both of your shaky hands held Steve's head firmly against you, giving him nowhere to go but right where you needed him. "Let it go, baby. Give it all to me," his muffled voice wavered a little as he coaxed you delicately.

If your hangover wasn't already making you dizzy enough, then Steve definitely was.

"That's it," he insisted, sweeping a comforting hand along your hips, "Just ride it out for me." His thrusts against the bed nearly brought him to an orgasm of his own but he was determined to save it for you. The way your hole pulsated, it was like it was calling for Steve to fill it.

The tight hold you had on his hair loosened as he crept his way up your body, leaving a trail of kisses behind the further he got.

His face was soaked and covered in an elixir of his spit and your juices, and some of it found solace on your own face when he leaned down to kiss you. The lewdness of it all turned you on more if that was even possible. His smile at you was dopey and naughty and it's wildly infectious.

"How're you feelin'?"

"Dizzy," you confessed, tucking some of his hair behind his ear though it doesn't make it look much neater. Concern straightened Steve's face in the blink of an eye, "Good dizzy or bad dizzy?" The pads of his fingers rushed to your temple to sooth you.

"Good dizzy, for sure," you kissed at his flushed, puffy lips in pure bliss. "Such a good dizzy," your hand trailed down from his stomach to his throbbing member. He was so hard it made you gasp. Steve tended to be harder than usual in the mornings, but this was different.

"You're so hard, oh my God," giggling against his lips, you stroked him agonizingly slow and steady.

"Well, duh. Prettiest girl in the world just came all over my face. How could I not be this hard for you?" His words hitched in his throat when your thumb spread his precum across the tip of his cock, groans rushing out of him.

He thrusted into your hand eagerly, but you soon stopped your movements, much to Steve's dismay. "God, you're such a little tease," he dropped his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling the flirty perfume that still dwelled on your skin.

From your ear to your collarbone, he showered you in open-mouthed kisses, whimpers and throaty hums pouring out when he grinded himself against your velvety ass like a dog in heat.

You could tell how badly he needed you.

"And you're such a little hypocrite," a smile played at your lips, "but you're lucky. 'Cause I need you just as bad," you purred, stretching your leg behind his waist, bringing Steve to hold up your knee.

He slapped his cock on your entrance a number of times before running it along your folds, coating himself in your dripping mess. A hearty moan from you set off sparks in Steve's chest when he plunged his hard length into you.

Your pussy welcomed him in with open arms, surely not wanting him to leave as it gripped him tightly when he pulled out only to thrust right back into you.

His and your moans harmonized as you both reveled in the fervor. A hand flew to the back of Steve's head and held him there, loving the way he stretched you so perfectly. His cock was just the way you liked it; thick and veiny in such a way that it caressed your walls inexplicably well. It's a sensation so good that it makes your mind happily go blank and numb.

You were completely at Steve's mercy.

Steve caught your lips when they fell ajar, kissing you deeply. His head went fuzzy when you moaned shamelessly into his mouth, tongues colliding. Your racing pulse thumped against his fingers as he held you by your neck. Pulling away from the kiss, he slid his hand down your chest and stopped right where your heart beat, reminding you to breathe.

Still, his cock trucked in and out of you at a pace that was so delicious. It wasn't too fast and was in no way slow. It was exactly what you both needed.

"Shit, you feel so good."

Droning, you were unable to form any words other than fuck, yes, and Steve. Your mind, body, and soul was burning with a desire and yearn for him. Eyelids low and flickering, you put up a fight to keep your eyes from closing so that you could cherish this sight of him.

Sweeping back his hair, his eyes fluttered shut when you rubbed at his ear, knowing that he liked it so much when you did that, especially in moments like these. Steve loved the way you felt around him, of course, but it was the little intimate touches that really drove him over the edge. Steve wanted to stay here forever.

Your t-shirt bunched up around your chest, leaving your bouncing breasts on full display for him. Your face pulled against his, breath fanning his face as you mewled and moaned and begged. Pleading, glimmering eyes never leaving him. God, how scenic. You were so dreamy. Steve almost wasn't sure if he was still asleep or not.

You grinded yourself back against him, husky moans sounding from the boy that was making you feel so fucking good. Every hard thrust he gave, teased that little sensitive spot inside of you, and you swore you were in some sort of heaven. You cried out, back curving in ecstasy.

"There it is, yeah," he grunted, resting his hand on the spot where your back arched. "Right there, baby?"

Nodding your head hurriedly, a plethora of "yeah"s tripped out of your lips. He thrusted into your dripping core relentlessly, feeling you clench around him tightly. Your eyes were screwed shut and your legs were shaking like leaves in wind.

That, coupled with the gratification Steve was giving himself earlier, he already knew he wasn't going to last much longer but he needed to see you cum again one more time. At least.

His hand ran down your sweaty frame to where your bodies met, drawing circles at your clit.

"I love that. I love this," he praised the way you clenched around his shaft whenever he touched your clit while he was inside of you. It was wildly addicting. Steve couldn't put into words how heavenly you truly felt. He couldn't believe that you were his.

The moans you let out were breathy and frequent, a sure sign that you weren't far behind your climax either.

"You sound so pretty, baby," he whimpered, nudging his head so that his ear was pressed to your lips, not wanting to miss a single little noise you made for him. His clumsy fingers worked tirelessly at your clit. You held onto his wrist as you became consumed by bliss.

His and your hips collide when you buck yourself back against him as your cunt choked down on his cock, body writhing. If you carried on like this, soon you'd be seeing stars.

It's a nirvana that your past lovers were never able to take you to. Not the way Steve could. Steve loved watching you cum. He'd do anything to get you to cum.

"F-Fuck, that's so good. You're doing so good, sunshine. You're so fucking pretty like this. It’s unreal. Holy shit," he babbled. If Steve didn't stop now, he'd surely explode.

While riding out your orgasm, you felt him go suddenly absent. "Why'd you pull out," you whined, head falling back onto your pillow in protest. But trust him, it's the last thing that he wanted to do.

"Because I was about to fucking cum," he whined back, laughing a bit as he squeezed the base of his raging cock. "When you cum you get so tight. It feels so fucking good, you have no idea, baby," he cooed, rushing back into you, already missing your warmth.

After your two orgasms, your hole was impossibly wet and hot and Steve's dick was absolutely drowning. It doesn't take Steve much to utterly crumble. He was now at your mercy, all whiny and needy and desperate for you, fucking you faster and deeper than before. His gaze never dared to leave your face. You were so beautiful it made his chest ache.

If there were a textbook solely dedicated to beauty, there was no doubt in Steve's head that you'd be plastered all over it. Just look at you.

"How're you so perfect, huh? Why are you so perfect? It's not fair, baby, I swear," his thrusts were becoming sloppy and offbeat. "You could get away with anything with a face like this." Steve Harrington. The king of praise. If his cock or mouth couldn't make you cum, his words surely could.

"You gonna cum for me, Steve?" His forehead dropped onto yours as he nodded, beads of sweat falling on your face and you can't say that you mind at all.

Steve loved having you under him like this. Loved having his hands laced through yours on either side of your head, your legs wrapped tight around him, keeping him in. Loved being able to lower his head just a few centimeters to have his lips clash with yours. He just wanted to kiss you and love you and fuck you like this all damn the time.

"Oh, baby." His mouth falls open as whimpers and moans and groans spill everywhere, warm cum spurting into you. Goosebumps erupted all over his body. As he came, his greedy, convulsing body pushed further and further into you, chasing down his high incessantly.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, keeping him close, while you peppered his contorted face in pecks that were gentle, in contrast to the intensity his body was feeling.

The repeated, grating clanks of your metal headboard beating against your wall slowed and soon quieted once Steve collapsed onto you, totally fucked out and sleepy all over again.

"Fuck, that was so good, princess." A smile pulled at your lips in agreement.

His breathing was heavy and you chose to calm him down by playing with the short little hairs that stuck to his skin from all the sweat.

The crook of his neck was in your face and you noticed the lipstick stains you saw earlier still hadn't faded.

"It looks like you have a sky on your neck," you lilted, finger ghosting over the area below his ear. The sentence made Steve's eyebrows scrunch together. Confused, understandably. Still, he was curious to know what you meant. "I have a what now?"

You reached for the compact mirror on your end table, opening it to give Steve a look, "A sky!"

He blushed at your sweet giggle. "These kiss marks kinda look like clouds and your moles are the stars," you traced them as you spoke. "See? It's a sky," you affirmed with a smile.

Steve only stared back at you with the most lovesick grin on his face. He still couldn't believe you were his. He rested his head back down on your shoulder, drawing invisible patterns along your sternum. "I like the way you see things; the way you think about things. It's so adorable and bright. I love your brain. I love you, sunshine."

Your heart undeniably skipped a couple beats at that. Steve always complimented you, but there was something about how sweet and gooey like honey those words were that made you feel like you were going to burst.

"I love you too, Stevie," you took his freckled cheeks in your hands, planting your smiling lips against his own for a kiss, still tasting yourself on his lips. Pulling away, you ogled the way he beamed, completely and utterly glowing in front of you, the same way the moon outside glowed when it was kissed by the sun's light.

The moon only glows when kissed by the sun.

💌 1 new message from jojo: smut isn’t really in my skillset so im a little unsure abt this lol. but i wrote this with a lot of love, nonetheless! feedback is so greatly appreciated!

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve and sunshine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x black!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x poc!reader

887 notes · View notes

yestrday · 2 months

Text

— YANDERE! MALEWIFE! GENSHIN AU part one | two | three | four

⇢ alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno

introducing ! at the altar decorated by the blooming lotus flowers, your wrist is bound to your husband with a red string and a promise of togetherness. while the people dance and sing in celebration of the newlywed, his eyes are on you and you only— possessive through and through, even in parabandhana.

[ surpriseeeeeeee yea you did not expect this did you yeah neither did I. i just sat on my computer and decided to be productive. also did not include baizhu and mika for now cuz I got lazy. ]

warning ! yandere behavior, drúgging, manipulation, mentions of locking you away and múrder

— ADMONISHING INSTRUCTION. alhaitham | الهيثم

[ “sure, sure, i’ll clean up after you go. hm? i’m not being lazy at all, just enjoying my peace and quiet.”]

⇢ my boy is living the dream life. no nosy seniors, demanding bosses, and curious co-workers. just him and his hardworking partner and the freedom to do his research at his own time. when you’re around, he tends to slack off (though he denies it) but he does his part of the chores anyway, so you don’t really have any complaints. he’d already been living the cushy life before, but now this lifestyle is more than comfortable.

⇢ he helps you out with your work when he sees you struggling, and he lets you use him as a soundboard to work out solutions. sometimes even lets you complain. keyword: sometimes. most of the time he’ll distract you with a movie or just bring you to the bed so the two of you can read a book together. unfortunately, his tolerance towards whining is very low (reminds him too much of a certain blonde), but he still loves you enough that he’s willing to let your stress out through other means.

⇢ marriage seems to have made him a bit of a romantic, though he’ll tell you that he’s stayed the same as he was when he was still your boyfriend. whenever you’re squinting at your computer screen in frustration, you’ll be caught offguard when he presses a tender kiss to your temple and sets down a mug of coffee next to you. or while you’re talking about something or another as you eat, he’ll clasp your hands in his and press a chaste kiss to each knuckle. these gestures has you blushing and stammering all the time, reverting you back to the naive student you were when you met him. this makes him a bit smug, so you often hit him in embarrassment.

⇢ he would never look down at you. marrying you means he has acknowledged you his equal, and to be fair he doesn’t really have a habit of looking down on others. however, when he sees some pesky flies fly a bit too close, he often gets too full of himself. someone trying to smooth talk you at the cafe? haitham’s not one for pda, but he’ll wrap a sturdy bicep around your waist and watch as the poor thing trembles from his gaze.

⇢ haitham doesn’t always tell you this, but he admires you for a lot of things. but sometimes you get a bit too… irrational, and he knows that he has to be the one to bring you down sometimes. you’re not a kid, so you should know better. besides, haitham’s always been the more rational between the two of you. sometimes bordering on…heartless, but you never tell him that. you don’t have the heart to.

⇢ he’s often the decision-maker, most of the time not even asking you what you want. he says it’s not about want, he has to take the rational decision for the both of you. you’ve always been a little… dull. it’s an endearing trait, but it’s something that has to go away as you both age. he sees the hurt flash in your eyes when he tells you this, and he thinks he can make up for it with a gentle kiss between your pretty eyes. he loves you like his equal, really, but sometimes (most of the time) you need a good talking down to.

“so you’ll continue to let your brother exploit you, despite everything he’s done to you in the past?” haitham shuts his book and stares at you with a seemingly bored gaze. “you know you don’t need to give them that solicitation, right? he’s not worth it.”

“it– it’s not about him, haitham, believe me!” you plead with him. “i’m, i’m doing this for his wife, okay? she doesn’t deserve to deliver a baby in his dingy apartment with no professionals around. it’s not fair! just because my brother was a díck doesn’t mean she deserves the cold shoulder too! have some compassion for once!” he rolls his eyes and gets up, towering above some good inches. his eyes look down at you, but his hand rests heavy on your shoulder as if trying to calm you down. “it’s not about compassion, dear. it’s about being rational. once your brother sees you softening, he’ll start asking for more and more and more and well, we know what kind of person you are.” you open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head. “you’re too soft, [y. name]. chasing around the affection of others… you don’t have to do that anymore.”

[ “this is for the both of us. i’m sure you can’t tell now, but sooner or later, you’ll thank me.” ]

— EMPYREAN REFLECTION. kaveh | کاوه

[ “you’re the — hic!— the best thing’s that ever happened to me! of– of course i’m crying! i’m not heartless!” ]

⇢ for kaveh, your marriage was both a blessing and a cause of distress to him. a blessing, of course, because what sane man would not want to get married to you! his darling, light of his life, the one who tolerates his flaws more than any other person on teyvat! but at the same time, he can’t just let you shoulder his burdens! he can’t give you the luxury you deserve to have, you don’t deserve to be saddled with his debt, it’s– it’s just not fair!

⇢ with kaveh’s sense of aesthetics and talent for architecture, you two will have the prettiest home around! it is a must for this architect to gift you with the prettiest home you’ve ever laid eyes on. sure, he can’t give you the grandiose mansion that you deserve even with both of your savings joined, but a master architect will make the most of what he has. this is the place where he’ll make memories with you, where you’ll grow a family and your chi… children (?!??!!!!) will live. it has to be as beautiful as you.

⇢ complains like you’d never believe. he’s always been chatty, but he gets even chattier after a disagreement with a client or a run-in with a certain someone or when he hears whispers of your horrendous workplace. to anyone else, his overdramatic flair might be a bit too much to handle, but you can’t help but listen with amusement as your husband drones on and on and on and embellishing his rants with over-the-top remarks. nevertheless, in the case that you do get weary, just press a kiss on his lips— it will surely leave him an incoherent mess in no time.

⇢ a bit too eager for your praise. it’s not like people don’t praise him all the time, but it’s only your approval that he cares for. when he makes a meal that he’s proud of, he’s squirming nervously in the seat across you as he watches you take bite after bite. when he finished his part of the chores, he tends to be a bit clingy with you as he tries to fish for compliments. it’s your choice to cave in so easily or play around with him, but when you do utter a compliment, know that you’ll be left with a gooey pile of mush cuddling into you.

⇢ on the other hand, kaveh absolutely cannot handle fights with you. fighting is a normal thing between couples, but he gets so absolutely wrecked it’s unreal. your look of disappointment, the glare you gave him, the fed-up sigh when you push him away and say that you need some time away from him… they all drive him insane. he curses himself, wondering why’d he have to go and open his stupid mouth and fuck everything up. you’re not wrong, never wrong, and it should be him to take the blame. the longer the fight, the more his wellness and self-confidence cracks. it’s a common sight to see him groveling on the ground, for your forgiveness, begging for you to notice him again. the sight is so pathetic that you can’t bear to look away.

⇢ the most insecure husband to ever exist and grows even worse with every fight you two might have had in the past. anyone who approaches you has him tensing up and tightening his grip on you, but a raised brow from you has him reluctantly loosening his grip and shamefully looking away. he’s plagued with thoughts of you leaving (because why would you stay with a wreck like him?) and overthinks every friendly gesture you give towards anyone who isn’t him (is that how you smile with someone who isn’t a complete fool?). he’s a pushover and craves your love and attention the most. if you love being an asshole and having someone completely around your finger, there’s no perfect husband to get more than kaveh.

“kaveh…” you start hesitantly, brows furrowed as you put a hand on his shoulder. “kaveh… there’s really no need for you to do all this.” but despite your gentle words, it only makes kaveh flinch and bury his weeping face even more into your chest. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he keeps whispering with a voice ragged from the amount of apologies he’s repeated. “i won’t do it again. whatever i’ve done please just forgive me. i can’t, i can’t stand it!” he looks up at you and that pretty face of his is ruined with tears. “please come back to me. you don’t have to sleep at that inn anymore. i can’t handle you not being with me anymore.” your grip on his shoulder tightens, and your expression seems to twist between a grimace and guilt. the only reason you stayed at an inn was because you were a coward, and you couldn’t handle watching kaveh break down as he beats himself up for a mistake that you caused. this fight was your fault to begin with, but the only one ruined was the innocent one. “i… i forgive you, dear,” you hushedly whisper, with the audacity of a man who did nothing but take advantage. “i forgive you. no matter what you’ve done.” and when he brightens up and smiles so prettily, your heart squeezes in your chest as he pulls you into a kiss sweeter than you deserve.

[ “wh… what are you apologizing for…? there’s no need to look at me like that…! you can blame me all you like!” ]

— VERDANT STRIDER. tighnari | الطغنري

[ “once again, i told you not to eat your boss’ baking! no, i don’t care if they looked nice! they. are. poisonous!” ]

⇢ he’s more at ease now that he doesn’t have to tolerate idiots who think eating poisonous mushrooms recklessly count as experiments or co-workers who tell him stupid jokes all the time. it’s a less stressful environment now… at least, that’s what he thinks. so why do you keep coming home barely alive?! you’ll find tighnari fussing over you and nagging at your office’s poor working environment.

⇢you’ll have the prettiest garden in the whole neighborhood, if not the whole world! the research data he can acquire from the plants in his backyard is limited, so it’s mostly a hobby of his. of course, he doesn’t just grow whatever there! there’s tons of medicinal herbs growing there and there’s a shed you both built where he can experiment wherever he likes. whenn you’re off work, you like to idle the time away in the garden while tighnari is hard at work on another of his concoctions. simply admiring his focused face is enough to put the stress of work behind you, and you think it’d be prettier if you tucked a flower behind his ear. but you never learn, do you? he launches off to another lecture about why you shouldn’t pluck flowers thoughtlessly while you daydream about his pretty face.

⇢ please please please don’t bring him to any work parties, lest you want to see the entire world burn. he still has that dry sarcasm that you oh so love, but he’s ruthless when it comes to your boss and your more unpleasant co-workers. if any of them try to act chummy with you, he immediately raises a brow and gives them the side-eye. he combats whatever fake-ass comment they have with a dry retort, leaving you panicking and trying him to stop it. but no one stops tighnari in verbal combat, and before long he’s revealed your boss’ and co-workers' vulnerabilities and have them deflating like a balloon.

⇢ tighnari always knows how to make the perfect brew, his teas always the perfect blend of both taste and remedy. it’s too bad though, that you always fall asleep before you can manage to finish a single pot. whenever you awake from a tea-induced slumber, your body feels strangely heavy but you can’t complain about the sleep. your husband is always the first thing you see from these naps, his fluffy tail wrapped around your legs and his big eyes staring intently at your face.

⇢ whenever he mixes in the drugs in your food or tea, tighnari’s tail swishes back and forth as he begins thinking of your cute expressions while you’re half-sober. sometimes he doesn’t put the usual dose and instead just halves it, just to see you flailing to get a grip on your senses and reaching out to your oh-so-innocent husband for help. he often chastises himself for this… dirty behavior, but the devil in his mind gleefully reminds him that this counts as research. the test subject just happened to be his trusting partner for life.

⇢ tighnari isn’t above imprisonment. it’s less for the thought of protecting you and more for his personal benefit. he likes to tell himself this is strictly research, but he can’t deny the awestruck look on his face as he greedily eats up every expression of your drugged face. when you grasp onto his clothes and lean on him for support… it makes him shudder with delight. you’re so cute when your system is laced with drugs, and even cuter when you look at him like he’s your entire world. he wants you to rely on him… and in turn, he wants to abuse that over reliance.

“you look better like this,” he murmurs as he brushes your freshly bathed hair. your figure is slumped in your chair like a doll, which isn’t far from the truth from how he handles you like one. he holds you gently, like porcelain, but you don’t react. you are too knocked out from the dose he had slipped into your tea awhile ago. he leans into your face, tutting at the dark circles under your eyes. “look at this… clear neglect of your health. i keep telling you to sleep, but you never listen to me, do you?” he sighs before focusing his attention back to your hair. “you’re so stubborn sometimes, you know. i barely know what to do with you.” he spends the next few moments in silence, rubbing cream into and ointments into your face. you smell slightly of lemongrass now, thanks to the bath he’s given you. tomorrow when you wake up, you will marvel at the softness of your skin and the clearness of your mind, before you throw yourself into another week of overwork. like always. tighnari regrets giving you the sleeping drug now. maybe he should’ve added a dose of the aphrodisiac drug he’s just finished. with the way his feline eyes zero into your blissful face and the eager swaying of his tail, he can just barely hold himself back now.

[ “aaah, i’ve run out of your meds again. oh, don’t you worry, i’ll make you some more. it’s nice how your body is so… receptive to my medicine ♡” ]

— JUDICATOR OF SECRETS. cyno | κύων

[ “... we’re married… …what? i honestly didn’t think i’d come this far.” ]

⇢while there’s no other man you could imagine to spend the rest of your life with, you’re inwardly groaning about the amount of dad jokes you have to put up with later on in life. sure, you love cyno’s goofy lil personality, but you think you can only take too many stupid jokes before you go crazy. you voice this concern to cyno, who just gives you a reassuring hand on your shoulder and says he can handle you just fine if you do. you’re not quite sure what this implies.

⇢ quite sulky, but he refuses to own up to the fact. sometimes you get a little distracted with one of the neighborhood children, start chatting up one of the kind neighbors, or meet one of your co-workers. you tend to get a little bit distracted by them, and while cyno believes that he’s not overly bothered by this, he admits that he is a little bit miffed about you not paying attention to them. he also gets pouty when work starts taking up of your time and you start to neglect him, so expect him to just shut the laptop close and demand you to eat dinner with him without rushing to get your job done.

⇢ he used to scare the neighborhood kids away with just one look and you always had to comfort him and pat him on the back in sympathetic understanding. “maybe you’ll get them next time,” you had joked, handing him an ice cream as he sulked on the park’s bench. “one of your jokes should do the trick.” you really shouldn’t have suggested that, because after another trip to the park he stared those kids down with his same stoic expression and cracked one of the corniest jokes known to man. every kid looked at him like he was stupid. now no one takes him seriously. well, at least they like playing with him now???

⇢ overprotective, like over overprotective. he knows you can handle going outside the house on your own, and hell, he might have no qualms with your workplace. but the more you complain, the more paranoid he gets until he’s staking out the site for himself. touchy co-workers? cruel bosses? he could easily have their corpses fed to the dogs. he is a protector of justice, after all, and what is justice but not killing those who lay a hand on their partner?

⇢ it’s not very easy to just push him over the edge, but he can and has the will to lock you away. it’s the modern world, no one’s going to have it out for a salary worker slaving day in and out for a corporation, but still. he’s made plenty of enemies when he was still in the force and there’s a paranoia eating at him whenever you go out of the front door. when he does lock you away, he’s as gentle as he can be, even with the stench of blood all over him. this is all for your sake after all, and he couldn’t bear to see you hurt when he had the power of protecting you.

“cy,” you huff in exasperation, looking up from your laptop as he glares down at you from behind it. “what in the world are you talking about? they’re my co-worker, my superior. you can’t just tell me to stop talking to them. i need their help!” “what help could you possibly need from them when you have me?” he huffs back, crossing his arms. “i’m telling you. they’re dangerous. i… i just know it, okay?” “what could a retired general possibly know about handling excel sheets?” when his face falters, you sigh and shut the laptop closed. “look, i know you just want to protect me and i appreciate that, really. but come on, cy, don’t be unreasonable.” the pressed line of his lips tells you that he has something against being called that, but you press on. “the company does background checks on their employees. it’s safe, i promise.” you press a kiss on his cheek and smile at him. “sit here and calm yourself down, okay? i’ll handle dinner tonight.” he watches your back as you disappear into the kitchen, humming a bright tune that offsets the stormy look in his eyes. he could tell you all about his time in the workforce— the violations he’s made, the blood on his hands, and the enemies he’s made— but he won’t. not if it means breaking this beautiful life he’s created with you. but that’s okay, that’s fine. he’s been trained to adapt to the situation and to work with the shadows.

[ “even if you don’t have a care in the world… i’ll be right behind you. wherever. whenever.” ]

#yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #yandere x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yandere alhaitham #yandere kaveh #yandere tighnari #yandere cyno #yester.writes #yester.au — househusband 💍#[noooot quite satisfied w what i did w cyno bc i wanted to explore him beyond being a joker but. sigh. not enough media to give me a read o #that side of him]

893 notes · View notes

minimujina · 1 year

Text

you make me so nervous !

sᴛᴀʀʀɪɴɢ. heizou, albedo, wanderer/scaramouche x f!reader

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. reader has a dendro vision, and when you get flustered or injured your powers go crazy :0

ᴄᴡ. sickeningly sweet fluff, wanderer is given a name, wanderer’s is a bit different than the other two so specific warnings are right before his, ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS!1!

heizou had never met someone so easy to read in all his days of observing people.

the mere presence of the detective seemed to fluster you impossibly—and your dendro vision would react in accordance, much to your dismay.

take the time that you decided to go for a mid-morning walk—something you didn’t usually do. you were looking for easy ways to change things up, bored of the stagnancy that so often came with a rigid schedule.

upon seeing you, the detective was surprised, since he knew that you were usually in your garden at this time of day. he shrugged it off, though, approaching you eagerly. and i’m not saying that he had the intention of frightening you, but that’s exactly what i’m saying.

“my dear sweetflower!” heizou exclaimed, startling you with an obnoxious poke on the shoulder. sweetflower was an endearing nickname he’d come up with when he first met you. “what brings you here at this fine hour?”

mischief and arrogance seemed to just seep from his voice. but still, he was a good friend to you, and a good person. just a bit of a bastard.

you gave a loud yelp and a flinch—he had to steady you with his arms amidst good-natured laughter to keep you from smacking him.

after you’d calmed down and he stopped laughing, heizou noticed something peculiar and novel: flowers had begun to bloom in your hair. by the time heizou had released you from his grasp, the mess atop your head had become more than abundant with clusters of posies.

you were none the wiser, since you were too busy trying to sort out your muddled thoughts—but heizou brought the issue to your attention with a silvery hum and a grin, reaching behind your ear to pluck a single leaf from its vine.

“did i scare you that much, dear?” the detective’s voice was teasing, but kind, and his smile more than reached the marks under his eyes. he was clearly amused at this predicament of yours.

the next time, however, had nothing to do with you being startled. you simply took notice of heizou in the distance—and the next thing you knew, flowers were sprouting up like weeds all around you. the detective hadn’t spotted you, though, so you bunched up as many of the fresh sumeru roses and sweetflowers in your little arms as you could, scurrying away in a panic.

ever since then, this problem persisted relentlessly. you’d learned to control it more with time, but every chance encounter with the detective spelled your inevitable embarrassment—at least one plant would spring up somewhere in the vicinity, and more often than not it would be in your own hair. heizou honestly wasn’t sure what to make of it—he might have been good at discerning motives and teasing out evidence, but for the life of him, he couldn’t unravel your seemingly complex feelings about him.

it was the beginning of the end when the detective stumbled upon a peculiar path of flowers and droopy vines. it was painfully obvious that they did not belong there among the sakura, and heizou had a feeling that he knew just who the culprit was.

after following the trail for no more than a few minutes, he was confronted with an amusing sight—you, sprawled on the ground, snarled in the sheer abundance of plants that seemed to have tripped you. he wondered what you’d been running from that made you so afraid.

heizou flashed you a smug smile, but he leaned over to lend a hand anyways. and yet, more flowers sprouted to shroud you from his view, as if tucking you away. but the glimpse of fear he’d seen in your eyes was enough for him to finally come to a conclusion—it was him you had been running from.

but.. you weren’t scared of him. this he knew.

you liked him.

oh, what an ego boost this was for shikanoin heizou.

he sighed, almost dreamily. “oh, my little sweetflower, you can come out now—i know about your little crush on me, so there’s no need to keep running away.”

when you made no move to emerge, heizou smiled to himself. of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“love,” he mused, “what i’m saying is that i—“

suddenly, heizou’s throat tightened. it came out of nowhere; he was so confident when he started, and this went so smoothly in his head. so why did his tongue suddenly feel so heavy? why did his chest burn the way it did?

it took the detective a moment to collect himself—he found it difficult to quell the sudden thought that maybe he liked you even more than he realized.

deep breaths, detective.

“what i mean to say is..”

another deep breath, heizou.

“i find you rather.. endearing.”

he cleared his throat, unconsciously stuffing his hands in his pockets. oh, if only he could see himself—he was being so obvious that even an amateur could see right through him.

“well, that is—i like you.”

he hadn’t meant to say it so plainly, but it seemed that his words, however hesitant they were, gave you the push of courage you needed.

the flowers parted ever so slightly to reveal your eyes again, less terror-filled, though still quite shaken.

but what was most surprising was the detective’s expression—you caught it for only a split second, but it was there. his eyes were blown wide, as if he were incredulous with himself. but a whimsical grin that could fool anyone quickly replaced all evidence of that uneasiness.

“…really?” you whispered, voice thinned and small, as if you’d swallowed your confidence.

a baffling, earnest sincerity crept into heizou’s expression—of all the times he’d been able to conceal his true feelings, this was not one of them.

“really.” his response was firm, his gaze softer than it had ever been.

“and..” you took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at the detective. “…you aren’t bothered by the whole…flower thing?”

heizou laughed mirthfully—“why would i be?”

under the cover of your plants, you fiddled with the petals of a sumeru rose as you spoke. “i don’t know.. it’s just embarrassing, is all. i thought it was overbearing.”

“oh, dear,” heizou tutted. “was it blatantly obvious? yes, yes it was”—your expression turned sheepish—“but overbearing? you? never.”

heizou reached out to part the sea of plants away from your face so that he could properly see you, letting one hand linger to lift your chin. “ah, there’s my lovely girl,” he grinned. “now, let’s get you out of here, shall we?”

and with that, your shaky little hand emerged to place itself in heizou’s steady palm, and he pulled you up, watching as the leaves and florets spilled all around your form like water.

and for once, heizou had nothing to say. all he could think about was the feeling of your small hand in his own, and how beautiful you looked in that moment. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were the long-departed goddess of flowers herself.

heizou very promptly decided that he could not tolerate the way his heart was acting. no, no, no, it was simply out of character. you were the one who was supposed to be flustered—not shikanoin heizou, the tenryou commission’s top detective, a young and brilliant genius whom nothing could unnerve.

the detective tugged you forward suddenly, fastening his hands around your waist as he stooped down—but he froze just before he reached your lips. he seemed to study you, admiring the brightness in your eyes, the dancing reflection of sunlight.

“wanna make out?” he asked out of the blue, a shit-eating grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

what you wanted was to slap him for his god-awful sense of humor.

but also yes, you did want to make out.

you decided to make this very clear by grabbing a fistful of his shirt and just making the move yourself for once. from the way he smiled into your lips, your intuition told you that he liked your spontaneous impatience.

when albedo discovered that his own presence regularly caused your vision to malfunction, his curiosity surrounding you became insatiable.

he would hum, stepping around you in a measured circle while he observed the various flowers that had sprouted from your vision. a thick vine had found itself stuck to the surface of your vision, almost as if it were trapped in the glass, not fully emerged. it trailed all the way to the ground of albedo’s workshop, branching off into more vines with sweet flowers, roses, and all sorts of pretty blossoms.

“how peculiar,” the alchemist murmured. “i’ve never seen anything quite like this before.”

yeah, me neither, you wanted to mumble and grouch, but you settled for a subtle pout instead.

albedo hummed thoughtfully again before completing a full circle around you, coming to face you eye-to-eye. you could see the mischief in his gaze, and your tummy fluttered with nervous anticipation—one could never know what the chalk prince would do next.

“i wonder… could we possibly encourage the vine to grow more? perhaps then it wouldn’t be stuck—which, again, is fascinating in itself.”

albedo was staring at you so intensely that you couldn’t make yourself meet his gaze. he continued nonetheless, “i’ve really never heard of someone’s powers emerging straight from the vision and manifesting that way. you are very curious—very curious indeed.”

seeing your blank expression and watery eyes, albedo decided to continue with his procedures in a more considerate fashion. he understood that you probably felt scrutinized, but he didn’t mean it that way, truly. he was filled with genuine curiosity about this predicament—though perhaps he did have an ulterior motive hidden somewhere.. but who’s to say?

“let’s go ahead and see if we can make it grow, then, shall we?” oh, there was so much mischief in his voice, and you did not like it one bit, nor did you like the way your stomach buzzed.

albedo suddenly leaned down very close to the side of your face—close enough that you could hear his gentle breathing and feel it fan across your blushy cheek.

“would this suffice to do the trick?” he asked lowly; you spotted his subtle grin out of the corner of your eye.

and sure enough, the floor all near ruptured with greenery, so many flowers poking up through the cracks of the dirt that it almost looked like a garden in the middle of this dry, frigid mountain.

“oh, my,” albedo chuckled, his mirthful gaze burning your face. “that did the trick indeed.”

you stepped back out of shame, though your flustered expression failed to escape him—nothing could ever fool those sharp eyes of his.

how endearing, he thought, amused at the manner in which your feet shifted and the way your cheeks bloomed a shade much darker than before.

hoping to quell your fears, albedo leaned down to pluck a single flower from its stem—a cecilia, native to mondstadt, yet fabricated by your own hand. he approached you to carefully tuck it behind your ear, his hand lingering for but a moment to brush your cheek.

another cecilia popped up from the ground, right next to albedo’s feet—your hands flew up to cover your face.

this prompted a warm chuckle from the alchemist. your anxiety subsided a bit at his comforting, familiar laughter.

his hand remained near your cheek, thumb just barely ghosting the skin; it was as though you were made of a delicate porcelain he was afraid to crack. and yet, oh, and yet, the way he was looking at you was so piercing that you thought you may fall apart at the seams. those eyes of his drilled holes into your face, but their gaze still held so much affection—how could he possibly analyze you with that cold calculation and still make you feel so warm inside?

“it’s still stuck in the vision,” he murmured without breaking eye contact, his even and composed voice dragging you out of a daydream; it took you a moment to realize he was talking about the plant. although.. his hand was still cupping your cheek. your heart thumped in your ears like a rabbit’s foot to the ground—why was he still touching you? this wasn’t like the distant, calculated albedo you were certain you knew… though it’s not like you minded.

the alchemist took a step forward with one foot, slow and careful. the other followed suit, bringing him ever closer, so that now you could feel his breath against your cheek again. it was a stark contrast to the frigid atmosphere, and a shiver racked through your body at his touch. and that was when you realized just how close he was—so close that your noses almost brushed; so close that he was craning his neck to meet your gaze; so close that you almost thought he might…

..well, albedo just couldn’t help himself, could he? archons, he knew he was supposed to be trying to fix the problem with your vision, but this entire experiment was his own self-indulgence at this point. but he would not be doing it if he didn’t already know that you were quite taken with him—your vision going haywire when he got close to you gave albedo all the evidence he needed to come to the conclusion that you were smitten.

and so, when the alchemist placed his other hand on your jaw, holding your face with that steadiness and carefulness you knew he possessed, more flowers sprung up around your feet. but neither of you cared.

“this should fix it, yeah?” albedo mumbled, and before you could even process what he had said, he was swooping down to capture your lips in a kiss.

it was gentle yet fervent, brief yet fulfilling. your whole body felt warm and fluttery, so when he pulled away, you found yourself leaning forward and standing on your tippy toes as if to beg him not to—but he did, just so that he could see the expression on your face: flushed, sheepish, happy, perplexed. he was satisfied knowing that his own affections were very obviously returned.

before you knew it, his lips were crashing into yours again, just a bit more eager this time. you had no idea the great albedo was capable of such a feat as this—you’d never even entertained the thought of him reciprocating your feelings. it was just out of the question to you, until now.

albedo’s lips were slightly cracked from the cold, but there was nothing unpleasant about it. he held your face so gently and rubbed his gloved thumbs over your skin so tenderly that you didn’t know what to do with yourself, but he took the liberty of grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest. you could feel his breathing, feel the air fill and vacate his lungs, feel how he shuddered when a sudden wind invaded the workshop.

the chilled air did not help your flustered state, for your knees had already buckled more than once, and albedo’s hold on you was the only thing keeping you standing. for now, though, his lips remained on yours, and plants continued growing in his workshop until there was literally no space to walk.

albedo didn’t mind. the vision had fixed itself due to your excitement, allowing the vine to mature properly. though not to mention…a few other plants had joined in on the process.

but he loved this. he loved the view, he loved your presence, and he loved how beautiful you looked when he pulled away: eyes shining, lips a bit swollen, cheeks rosy. the fact that he could no longer move in his workshop didn’t matter so long as you were here.

he was going to paint you like this when he got the chance, he decided—and there would be no lack of flowers to reference, that’s for sure.

ᴛᴡ. ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS!1!!!1!1!! FROM HERE ON OUT !!1! ……… mentions of the reader being injured, not specified from where (nothing too descriptive); flowers grow from the reader’s wounds (again, not too descriptive); slight angst but it is immediately fluffified and everything else is good :] auntie buer basically assigned him a babysitter and thats you ehehyeyegeh

the wanderer had gone by many names in his lifetime, names that engendered fear into his enemies and allies alike.

though, had he ever really had an ally after the losses he had perceived as betrayals? in reality, scaramouche held everyone at arms length no matter what, never allowing anyone close enough to see, much less touch, the fragile shards of his psyche.

but you—an insignificant little woman, his appointed caretaker—you had given him a name.

it was unlike any of the other titles he’d been assigned. rather, this time, it wasn’t even so much that you had assigned it to him, but that it had been set aside for him—like you had let him step into it on his own, try it on for size, and decide if it suited him.

it’s a name that was reserved for him by someone kind. someone with good intention. someone who reminded him too much of the ones he had lost.

you called him junpei. pure. genuine.

the wanderer found it amusing how ironic your choice was. but upon seeing your eager grin, he could not bring himself to reject the name.

junpei.

was that how you saw him? or was it what you wanted him to be?

“junpei, would you help me with this?” sure, he would—did he have a choice, anyways?

“jun, have you eaten?” no. food was not a necessity to him, as he was a puppet. but you would make him eat regardless.

“you look tired, jun, did you sleep alright?” no. he did not sleep alright. but he felt a bit better after hearing those words come out of your mouth, truth be told.

after hearing the name (and its subsequent nicknames) on your lips day after day, it began to feel less strange. in fact, he even started to like the way it rolled off your tongue so easily.

and he liked the way you cared for him.

why did you do it?

he didn’t know. he couldn’t even begin to guess why you took on the task of watching after him. he knew how much a piece of work he was.

it turned out that you just genuinely believed in new beginnings and second chances for everyone—and to you, the wanderer, junpei, was no exception.

he was not aware, but the reason you named him junpei was because of the first time he fell asleep in your presence. his face—it was so quiet. his expression was subdued. he had become gentle.

if it was possible for him to look so peaceful in his sleep, then you were confident that he was made up of something much milder on the inside—something tender, something soft, something placid that he had carefully tucked and folded away, hidden from the prying eyes of anyone who would ever try to hurt him again.

but you did not want to hurt him. you wanted to show him beautiful things, wonderful things—things that require that benign temperament to appreciate. and if you had to give him the stars and the moon to make him open up, to make him show you that small, humane fragment of himself, then so be it. you weren’t going anywhere.

he never truly began to trust you until your own insecurities and weaknesses were exposed.

it was beyond the wanderer how someone so seemingly innocent and sheltered could be littered with so many wounds—so many wounds, and so many scars.

but then, under that short cape you never removed, there were the flowers.

pretty flowers that grew from your arms, that sprouted from the ugly gashes like beautiful weeds, that made you feel ashamed and gross. lovely flowers that were not so lovely to you. flowers that illustrated your pain. flowers that only served to make your skin crawl and remind you of what you had suffered.

it astounded the wanderer when you admitted that you had never shared this with anyone else, had never taken your cape off in the presence of another. this was a secret, something special, a sign of your trust and dedication to staying by his side. even if this was your job, he realized in that moment that this had never been just a job to you. you were there for him.

but.. still, he had his suspicions that you only wanted to “fix” him. so it wasn’t until he’d witnessed your composed display crack, fissure, and boil over that the wanderer began to trust you completely.

“jun,” you cried. it was such a helpless, pathetic sight—or, that’s what scaramouche would have thought. but junpei found himself rushing to your side, something inside his chest pounding wildly against the ribs caging it. a feeling of desperation began to claw its way out of his stomach when he saw your tears.

and the flowers. they crowded your arms, one of your thighs. were they lovely, or were they horrendous? he could not decide.

there was one tiny flower on your cheekbone. a small, yellow daisy, poised there as if your face had been its home all along.

the wanderer spat curses under his breath. “you idiot.. you stupid, stupid human..” his breathing became erratic as a violent panic overwhelmed him.

“what did you do?”

his voice was painful and strained. quiet. but most of all, it was angry.

you couldn’t give him a proper response, only shaking your head as more tears spilled from your eyes. and at this, a hole formed itself in the wanderer’s gut.

that old fear. that feeling. that horrible, dreadful, terrifying feeling.

suddenly, he was kunikuzushi again, watching the people he loved abandon him. break their promises to him.

you promised. you promised him.

but hadn’t they all?

what could a promise even mean anymore if it could be so easily broken?

you could see the gears turning in his mind, the rage that you hadn’t witnessed in so long shifting and blazing behind his eyes. and you knew you had to say something.

“i’m not going to die, you know,” you muttered, using what little strength you had to give him a watery smile. “i’m only crying like a little bitch because it hurts, okay, jun?”

his expression immediately shifted, as if the anger had been doused by a bucket of water—but it wasn’t relief you saw. it was sadness.

“i promised you, didn’t i?” you whispered, noticing how his face contorted into something distraught. slowly, painfully, you extended your pinkie from your arm’s limp place on the ground, and though it took him a moment to consider, the wanderer linked his fifth finger with yours.

“you did,” he replied, his voice no more than a whisper. then, humorlessly, he smiled, all color drained from his face. “so you better not break it.”

“is that a threat, my dear wanderer?”

he couldn’t fight the genuine upturn of his lips—you always chose the most inappropriate times to make an attempt at comedy. the wanderer shook his head, gently pinching your unwounded cheek while he chastised you with something like affection in his voice.

from then on, junpei tended to you as if curating a garden, as if you were a little flower he had planted and helped grow all along. not once would he allow you to put yourself in danger—and if you tried, he would flick your forehead and make you sit in the tent in time-out. but if you really pushed him, really, he could get genuinely angry with you, but only because he cared for you. the worst he’d ever do was raise his voice at you, and even then, you could hear in his tone how worried he was under the aggression.

at some point, you realized that junpei had only become this caring since the day he witnessed you so vulnerable. it was as if he had not allowed himself to trust you completely until he was certain that you needed him, too.

you couldn’t blame him for it—you were glad to know that he no longer viewed vulnerability as a weakness. it was a sign that he was healing and finding comfort in something other than the despair he’d harbored for so long.

“juunyyy,” you sang from your tent, where you had been forcibly stowed away under a nest of blankets and shoved into junpei’s suzukake (outer robe). you were sick, and dreadfully so.

when he poked his head through the flap of the tent, the way your face distinctly brightened upon seeing him made the wanderer’s stomach plummet to the floor. granted, you were a bit loopy from the fever, but it’s not the first time you’d looked at him like that. he felt himself falling in love with you all over again every time he saw you—now in particular, since you were bundled up in his jacket looking so awfully adorable.

“what is it?” he asked, trying with all he had to conceal the fondness in his voice with a scowl. your coy smile hinted at his unfortunate failure.

“i have something for you,” you whispered giddily, even though nobody else was around, and there was nothing you’d said that even remotely suggested you needed to whisper.

junpei sighed, entering the tent with an air of indifference despite how his chest fluttered. your childish grin was really making it hard for him to keep up the act, though.

and when you placed a flower crown on his head, taking the time to smooth down his dark, inky hair to make a place for it, junpei thought it was really going to be the end of him.

this is it, he mused. i’ve officially become soft.

what would scaramouche think if he saw himself now?

but.. that didn’t matter, did it? no, no it didn’t. it truly did not matter. he was no longer bound by the person he had been—or rather, the puppet. the heartless balladeer. scaramouche.

maybe you’d seen this in him all along. maybe you’d always known he would thaw out someday. maybe that was why you had called him junpei.

if that was the case, he suddenly realized that you were smarter than he gave you credit for. perhaps he had judged that dense pea-brain of yours too harshly, no?

..archons, but you were still so stupid at the same time.

he found himself scoffing at the conclusions he’d reached about you—and he had the sudden urge to wipe that goofy little smile off your face.

so he threw all caution to the wind, grabbing your chin, albeit a little rougher than he’d meant to. there was nothing stopping him from kissing you anymore, so he did just that. although he was a bit stiff about it at first.

after a few moments, his rigid posture softened, and he let go of your chin to instead cup your face, a surprising tenderness to his touch—at the same time, you recovered from your shock, becoming lucid enough to wrap your arms around his neck and reciprocate the way he pressed into you.

a few minutes later, the two of you were breathless and rosy-cheeked, and the wanderer’s steady hands held you closer than they ever had before. you remembered when they used to shake and tremble—it warmed you to think just how much you’d seen him grow.

even though you’d both surely had your fill of kisses, he kept leaning in and stealing more small pecks from your lips while you dissolved into laughter. every time a giggle managed to escape you, it was swallowed by a chaste, almost playful, kiss, something you didn’t know your grumpy little wanderer was capable of. more uncontrollable laughter soon followed each time his lips left yours.

the wanderer’s assault of smooches finally stopped when your amusement started to die down. the two of you were left with a tender moment as he held you firmly, closely, his eyes making a silent promise to you that he was the one you could depend upon now. that you didn’t have to babysit him anymore. his loyalty belonged to you.

well, it’s not like you couldn’t infer that from the way he’d just desperately made out with you. but the reassurance was nice!

he rested his head on your shoulder, almost in a defeated manner, as if all that affection had truly exhausted him to the bone. you found that very amusing. and of course, as always, you’d spotted the perfect opportunity to say something that would no doubt ruffle his feathers.

“ . . . you know i’m sick, right? ”

thank you for reading😳

#mujimade #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #albedo x reader #shikanoin heizou x reader #heizou x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #heizou #shikanoin heizou #albedo #wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi

3K notes · View notes

monstersflashlight · 8 days

Text

Caught (part 1)

Orc x non-gendered human || Chasing, primal play

Your heartbeat was so loud in your ears it felt deafening. You barely heard your name when the council president announced you’d be the next sacrifice. Mother was crying in the background, the rest of the village avoided your eyes when you looked around, trying to make sense of what was happening. They choose you.

They needed a sacrifice, and they choose you.

It’s been ages since the last sacrifice was made, but the crops died way too early this year. The village was struggling to feed all the people. So the council sent an emissary to the old witch living in the mountain. She made it simple: give the woods a human sacrifice, mother nature would provide after that. Everyone ignored what you already knew: mother nature wouldn’t answer their sacrifice.

But the monsters in the dark forest would be glad to get you.

The council didn’t say anything as they led you through the forest, leaving you in the middle of what long ago was a field of flowers. Long dead, the only thing remaining was a patch of dirt and some fallen leaves.

You felt hyper-aware, the councilmen were talking but you couldn’t hear anything, you didn’t care. They didn’t care. You were just a sacrifice, not part of the village anymore. They weren’t expecting you to return, they weren’t expecting you to run. You were there to be devoured by unknown beasts.

First you couldn’t hear a single sound over your heartbeat, but as the men disappeared in the distance, the darkness became alive. You could feel everything. The sound of little animals, the sound of breeze through the leaves, the smell of humid dirt and dead flowers under your feet, the coppery taste of your fear. Some owl in the distance, maybe a dog if you listened closely… Then silence. Complete and utter silence.

Tales as old as time ran through the village, tales about green giants living deep in the forest. Tales of unsuspecting victims being caught by them. You didn’t believe in those stories. Not back then. But now, in the middle of the woods, the darkness consumed you. Maybe… Maybe those tales were true.

And then you felt it, profound fear blooming inside of you. You were supposed to be quiet, to be still, to let them, whoever or whatever they were, to catch you.

A branch broke at your right, the clouds disappeared and a ray of moonlight shone through the leaves, illuminating something. Someone. A tall figure not far from you, you couldn’t make out their features, but they were at least twice your size. The old tales were true, there were monsters deep in the woods. Some primal part of you could feel the anticipation running through their veins, as your own anticipation rose to match it. You expected the world to stop, to feel something as your life passed behind your eyes in a blink. But you didn’t.

You were supposed to be quiet, to be still… but deep down you knew they wanted you to run. So you did. You bolted from there and started running, not knowing where you were going. Something inside of you urged you to escape, to survive. You ran for what felt like hours, but were probably just minutes. You pushed yourself, but it wasn’t enough, they were close. So close. Their steps way too fast for you to have even a chance of running away.

You knew it was a bad idea, probably the worst idea you ever had, but you did it anyway. You looked back. The first glance at the big orc chasing you made your body react, almost tripping over your own feet. You expected to feel scared, to fear for your life. But one look at them and fear wasn’t the only thing pushing you. Arousal joined your conflicting emotions, filling every cell of your body with adrenaline, making it hard to breathe as you kept running.

You knew you liked the fear, that peak of anxiety and anticipation that made your adrenaline flow and your body fought for survival. In the dark nights, you imagined being chased through the forest, a presence behind you. And you felt scared, you felt like a demon was coming after you for your impure thoughts… But over that, over all that fear, was a deep desire to be caught.

Your heart was beating so hard you feared they could hear, but other parts of you were awakened. The deep secrets you were hiding weren’t so scared of the monster behind you. The deep secrets were burning you from inside out, trying to escape as fast as you did. The deep secrets made arousal overpower your fear, a wave of heat crashing on you like a tsunami.

“I can smell your fear, little human.” You could hear him inhale, an appreciative hum leaving his mouth. “And your desire.” Your face flushed, you couldn’t stop running, you knew you couldn’t. But the heat racing through your body, pooling at your abdomen, was really hard to ignore. They would catch you. And you didn’t want that. Did you?

You couldn’t answer your own inquiry before you tripped over a root, your body propelling forward. You barely caught yourself before you hit the floor, your palms stopping the worst of the impact. Your body was hurt, your hands were probably scratched. You could smell the blood in the air, and something else. Something different. A deep woodsy scent so similar but so different, spicier, than the woods surrounding you.

“Well, well… You, my little morsel, are a treat.” A deep voice said behind you, making every hair on your body stand up. Shivers ran down your spine as you tried to get up and run again. But you didn’t have time, a big green figure towered over you, grabbing you and throwing you over their shoulder. You screamed, they laughed. “It won’t be long before you are screaming in pleasure instead of fear, little morsel.”

It was too late, they caught you.

To be continued...

#monster x human #monster #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #orc #orc x human #monster x reader #monster kink #monster imagine

173 notes · View notes

luvlyhyunjin · 29 days

Text

Carousel┃H.HJ SMAU

Forty-Two - You're My Biggest Wish.

warnings: pure smut, degrading names, dirty talk etc

wc: 6.4k

playlist: keep on loving you - cas / affection - between friends / lana del rey - cinnamon girl

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“Is this everything?” you ask, your voice reverberates through your living room that is now filled with brown closed boxes. Your hands are on your hips, turning to face Hyunjin who has made himself comfortable. Leaning against your doorframe as if he always belonged there. He looks good in your apartment; you note to yourself.

He hums back, an answer that you take as a yes if the soft smile that adorns his pretty face anything to go. His blonde hair is pushed back, revealing the burden of prior days in his features. Your own eyes soften at him, your heartstrings tug towards him. Begs you to take care of your soul. You ignore it. Just for a fleeting respite, you know when this storm of emotions passes by, you’ll end up in his arms anyways. You wonder when did this sly cocoon of a game even started, a push and pull between you and yourself, trying to resist him only to end up on your knees for him.

“What?” Hyunjin asks with a tilting smile when your stare lingers, his voice echoes against the walls of your heart, pulling beats out of it just for him with ease. A subtle fragrance of something akin to love floats in the air surrounding you, waving itself into the playful raise of his brows, it has you running away from it, an endless yearn to flee from his gaze as you shake your head.

“Nothing.”

Warmth cradles you in Hyunjin’s hands when he reaches for you, a longing that seems to be lastingly cemented on the palm of his hand when he touches yours. You look at him in question.

“Thank you for letting me and Hannie stay.” His voice is small, in complete contrast to the way he towers over you.

“You already thanked me like ten times Jinnie.”

“I feel like it’s not enough.”

“It is more than enough. If there’s anything else, I could do for you then please tell me.” The familiar softness of your voice pulls you to his heart, you sit in the middle and spread your angelic wings and take all the space. Have his heart tighten around you and nothing else. He finds himself in a rare state of being at a loss of words. So instead, he leans down, and his lips graze the skin of your cheek placing a kiss there.

“Thank you, baby.” He whispers right into your cheek, knits his promise.

When he pulls back, your eyes are wide with loving sparkles and your cheeks pinked in his golden effect. It has him smiling, only at you who manages to stroke his ego beautifully each time.

Oh, how do you manage to bloom into the prettiest flower just under his gaze.

Your momentary bliss is interrupted by the steps of Hanuel running towards you with an excited bounce, he scurries through the maze of boxes and a thrilled beam stretches into his face, he looks so much like Hyunjin when he smiles, resembles the sun in an alike way and your heart tightens at the sight. You barely could handle one. Let alone have another copy of him.

“Noona!” he exclaims in calling for you, bringing attention to the box of the console you forgot to hide in between his short arms, he hugs it to his chest as if it was as precious as he looks.

“Can I play with this please? I’ve wanted a ps5 for a while.” He jumps up and down, glee echoing in his voice that has you smiling along. You open your mouth to reply, your words hold onto the tip of your tongue when Hyunjin talks milliseconds before you.

“Hannie you can’t just go around and snoop through people’s places.” He scolds.

“But Hyung,” Hanuel pouts, pure and childish in the way his brows knit together in disappointment.

“it’s okay Hannie,” you kneel in front of the smaller kid, a reassuring hand ruffles his black strands.

“I actually bought it for you so yes you can play with it whenever you want.” Hanuel eyes widen, an even bigger smile takes place on his face and his excitement has you giggling at the happiness dripping from his innocence.

“Hyung! Noona said it’s mine.” He boosts, turning to Hyunjin with giddiness evident in the way he won’t stop jumping and then in a swift moment he has his arms around you, throwing his small body into your embrace.

“Thank you so much Noona!” he says sweetly, and you’re taken back, eyes wide in shock and hands frozen awkwardly mid-air. have not expected that yet still manage to pat his back in time before he’s hurrying out the room to turn on his new ps5.

“What was that?” Hyunjin asks with narrowed eyes, displeasure all over his face and you only smile bashfully at him.

“A gift?” you reply with a tilt of your head, he shouldn’t find it that endearing.

“I can’t accept that we’re giving it back.”

“Please don’t. Hannie has been through a lot he deserves it.” You sway on your feet, a trying task to win his affection and approval for your impulsive acts “Besides, Felix told me that the only reason you started working was so you could buy it for him. And now with everything that’s going on with your mom you can’t pay the hospital bills and buy him that.” You continue before he interjects again.

“Y/N…” Hyunjin sighs, shoulders slumped, and his eyes betray an unsubdued vanquish. He always hated being at the weaker end of things. Grew up with a pride as big as him and you soften at him. Closing the small distance between you when your warm palms envelope his cheeks in increasing comfort.

“I wanted to do it, so I did it, you don’t have to repay me. Just take it okay?” your tone is sweet, hanging over his head like a cloud of alleviation.

“it’s too much,” he replies, shaking his head stubbornly and you huff.

“You don’t see me repaying you when you take care of me.”

“That’s different.” He counteracts with another shake of his head.

“Why? Just because I used money doesn’t make it any different. It’s just my own way of taking care of you.” Hyunjin keeps quiet for a moment, contemplating your words with clear hesitation clinging to his eyes as they look into yours. You jut out your bottom lip in a pout, batting your lashes at him in attempts to end this discussion and Hyunjin is immediately weakened, rolls his eyes just so he won’t have himself melting at your feet.

“Fine.” He grumbles and you smile.

Your tired body stumbles in the dark living room in search of the kitchen and hopefully a glass of water to quench your thirst, almost tripping over a box on your way you barely make it alive or at least that’s what it feels like when you see Hyunjin standing there. Grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his upper body bare, he’s shirtless. His necklace nestles perfectly against his pale skin, catches light from the moon stealing the flickers of shine all to himself. He looks ethereal and suddenly the sleep clinging to your lashes is gone in a blink.

He pauses amid drinking his glass of water, looking your way with tired eyes, dark circles adorning the under of his eyes, his hair is a mess atop his head, falling in unkempt blonde strands over his face. Yet the sight still manages to send your heart into the deep end. The air feels heavy in your lungs when you try to breathe it in.

“Hey,” he speaks first, voice softer than your dimly lit kitchen. And as he glances at you, his gaze seems to cut through the air with an almost tangible sharpness through the clearness of the glass between his fingers, appreciative and enticing as they trail over your figure. It burns you and his tiredness abandons his body at the vision of you in your white lace night dress.

“Hi,” you clear your throat hoping to dissipate the tension that’s melting on your skin, you felt it start to bubble up from the heat instead. “Can’t sleep?” he asks when you dawdle past him and head for the fridge, your powdery scent lingers in the air and he closes his eyes for a moment, sucking a deep breath in, feels it swirl around and hug his body in a warm embrace of you.

“Yeah,” you take one of the bottled waters, uncapping the lid to take a sip. The cold liquid fills you up with satisfaction. A trickle of water drips down the side of your mouth and Hyunjin watches it, eyes growing hooded. His eyes flicked to your plush, pink lips then scanned their way back into your wide, gleaming eyes. He licks his own, and brings your attention to them, you feel them calling for you. Your hand tightens around the water bottle.

“Why are you awake? I thought you went to sleep hours ago?” your voice is soft, leaning your shoulders on the fridge behind you, its coldness makes you shiver. Hyunjin only shrugs in silence, with clear intentions not to chat with you, he places his empty glass on the kitchen island and makes his way to you as if a magnetic pull is drawing him in.

“Were you thinking of me baby? Is that why you can’t sleep?” you blink at him, surprise overtaking your features at his sudden smugness that he wears in the smirk on his lips, he consumes your form with a dark assessment. A chill run across your spine, leaving you unsure if it’s the proximity of Hyunjin’s naked body or the cold of the fridge.

“Maybe.” Your voice no more above a hushed whisper, he looms over you, gaze turning serious, and a glint lingers there, dressing itself as raw attractiveness, he’s enraptured by your beauty.

His knuckles brush over your cheeks and satisfaction takes him when your dark lashes flutter, leaning into his touch and flapping your wings across the honeyed swipes of his affection. With a cup to your jaw, he’s asserting his dominance over you leaving you with no choice but to sway frailly under him.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, voice hoarse. you almost think you imagined it. You think your inner desires are speaking to you, whispering your wishes back to you, your wishes that you had ever since you were seventeen. But the brush of his nose against yours tells you otherwise.

“Yes.” You whisper back, right into the growing garden of love between you two. Your voice waters every blooming rose and Hyunjin finds himself melting once again, in the folds of your existence. His eyes dart all over your face as if he also can’t believe the word that came out of his mouth. As if you ever had a choice. He brushes his lips against yours and it has a shiver running down your spine. Arching your exposed back from the coldness of the fridge and into him. His hands are on your jaw, caressing it softly and then his pillowy tinted lips are on your softer ones.

It's dizzying, your head is spinning, and your senses are overwhelmed by the sweet taste of his. Your inclination takes over, pushes you to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you. Closer, closer, closer... you need to become one with him. The press of your breasts into him has him groaning against your plush lips. In response his tongue glides across your bottom lip begging for something deeper, for you to take him deeper. You open your mouth with a gasp, your hands are in the soft strands of his, tangling your fingers in them and spreading your delicate love in his roots. His tongue licks into your mouth, enlisting soft whines from your pink lips, his hands find solace on your waist while your tongue fights to keep up with the rhythm of his.

He pulls back with a gasp, desperate for air he wishes he didn’t need, lips plump and eyes darkening. You chase after him, your longing has you on your knees and you’re a slave to your ever-growing love. Pressing pleading chaste kisses to his lips, he breaths out a chuckle against you, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, your body growing hot when he dives back into you with a newfound fervor. You tilt your head, and his hands travel down leaving a scrooching fire behind, sets your body alight with vigorous lust.

The intensity of the heat and passion of your shared kiss rendered you weak, has your legs shaking. When his hands reach the back of your thigh, his short nails digging into the plump flesh of them you can’t fight back against your need for him anymore, they betray you just like they’re not your own emotions and instead submitting to Hyunjin, transforming themselves into a sweet moan that tumbles out of your lips and into his. Swallowed by him and right into the lap of the monster he’s been trying so hard to keep at bay. Something snaps in him, his kisses quickly turning bruising, like the broken dreams you both built in your imagination when you were teenagers.

You’re unable to stand anymore, growing weaker and Hyunjin notices, tapping the back of your thighs, you jump, and he catches you like he always does, your legs wrapping around his waist, and he walks you to the closest counter, placing you atop of it and rests his forehead against yours. In attempts to regain his sanity back, the same one you seem to steal ever since he first saw you. You keep yours open, like a wanderer who finally found their home, they flit over his features, counting his lashes and your thumb brushes over his mole in softness that only you are capable of providing.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for the longest time.” He speaks first, standing between your legs and hands on the silky skin of your thighs. His hands are everywhere but nowhere close enough. You make it obvious by the way your ankle nudges his back, urging him forward and he comes so easily. Wonders how it is so easy for you to crawl into his skin, the sight of you. Hair tousled and swollen lips are enough to have his cock thickening up in the space of his boxers. He holds himself back, tugs on the leash of his desires and sits still. Dares his thumb that is brushing the inner of your thigh to not inch upwards.

“Me too,” you smile like you didn’t just have him by his heart, your eyes are like a dangerous weapon you aim carelessly at him, his own expression softens. Melting into unyielding affection for you.

“You’re so pretty.” He says it like it’s a spoken fact that you should have memorized by now, doesn’t understand the way your cheeks color in splashes of light pink and the way the intense emotions in your eyes have dwindled into the look of a broken girl you tried so hard to protect. It hits you out of nowhere, the void that has managed to suck the life out of everything in you is there again. You didn’t know someone could look at you with so much love and not reproach.

“Remember when we talked a while back about being scared of...” you speak after a moment, threading your fingers with his as if you were teenagers again and you reached for him for the first time. Feels electricity spreads through his limbs at your touch. warm and loving as you wave your other hand around in futile tries to describe whatever you guys have “...us?” you finally settle with, Hyunjin’s playful smile is teasing at you and you shove at his chest, ignoring the feel of his bare skin on your palm.

“I remember baby, what about it?” you pretend his endearment doesn’t affect you, like your heart isn’t dissolving at soft brush of his thumb. You pretend like his touch is not sending waves of arousal to your underwear.

“You never told me what you’re scared of.”

“I think I’m most scared of you leaving.” There are contradicting emotions in his inky eyes, vulnerability dressed in pain you caused, and you almost see it, the flashes of your past in his gaze, the day you left is fresh in there.

“Why do you think I’m gonna leave?” you ask with a squeeze to his warm hand, you feel a pang in your chest right where your heart is when he looks down, avoiding your eyes like it’s painful to look at you.

“I know I’m not good with these things,” your free hand cradles his jaw, softly as you smile at him encouragingly, reminding him you both are different, that despite the similarity that encompasses you, the striking differences are still here.

“I know the first time we failed I’ve treated you poorly. I was bad at showing you how much I loved you. I made you feel alone.” He confesses endlessly like all his sins are the only reason you ended up falling apart. As if you weren’t an accomplice in this crime, as if you didn’t stand on the grave of your love and looked down at it with an oldening stare. The truth stays logged in your throat, your eyes never leave his, a smile on your face and a pool of emotions rose-colored shimmer in the flickers of color in your eyes.

“I’m just scared of the past repeating itself. Of making the same mistakes.” You don’t have the heart to tell him that you know how this story ends. You don’t tell him about how you know time unravels, rewinds only to place the same fractures on your hearts. Were you selfish or too broken for the glimmering light they call hope? You’re not sure.

However, when Hyunjin leans into the warm embrace of your palm, turns his head to place a tender kiss there nestling another whisper of love that will only haunt you when he turns his back to you one day, you think it’s both.

“You won’t make the same mistakes Jinnie, I see you trying.” you smile in hope of reflecting the same tenderness.

“What if I’m not trying hard enough?” He questions, tone frail and laced in a rare display of insecurity that has you aching.

“You don’t need to try harder than you already are. Just you, is more than enough for me.”

But I’m not enough.

I’m not worth it.

Are the words you swallow down, lodging them in an endless poetry of broken promises and salty tears that you’re sure you’ll read to him someday just not tonight.

“I need to try harder because there’s no one else for me,” he confesses to you, eyes melting into yours in delicacy that wraps around your heart, calling for you and you respond right back by a brush of your thumb on his cheek. He closes his eyes momentarily as if he’s savoring your touch, drinks up all the love you’re dripping and asks for more. When he opens them again, they’re a shimmering pool of everything he had ever felt for you, it seeps into your being.

“you’re my biggest wish Y/N.” you feel it taking over you, the need to run and hide. The need to run away from him. An overwhelming fear attacks you at the fact that you know there’s no one else for you as well. Destiny is cruel, linking you to him, drawing him onto your body, soul, perfectly so no one else can keep up, the emptiness you feel won’t ever be filled by anyone other than Hwang Hyunjin. Perhaps that’s why you were speechless, running away from all the words you wanna say like a coward and instead you entwine his necklace between your fingers, tugging him towards you and into a soft kiss that you hope is enough to convey your feelings.

He kisses back just as tenderly, drowning you in affection, it has you choking on him. Your lips melt into one another, desperate to find new ways to connect, new ways bring back what once has died.

“Take me, Hyunjin.” You mumble against his lips, your breath mingling together. He moves to back away and your grip on the back of his neck tighten. Holding him in place, feeling like you might fall apart if he’s not next you if he’s not all over you.

He shakes his head at you in dismiss, faux denial that almost makes you want to whine.

“I can’t. I want to do this the right way” he’s breathing heavily. An evidence of his overflowing want for you and maybe that’s why his rejection doesn’t hurt you but fuels you to push him further into the abyss but you’ll be there to catch him “I’m already yours so why should we wait?” you repeat his own words to him, it has his eyes darkening so obviously drowning in lust and feeding off the tension building around you two.

Your hand reaches for his, circling his thin wrist and guiding him to where you need him most. He watches with growing anticipation as you trail his hand down your body and in between your legs, both of your chest heaving as you press his hand over your clothed sex, his thumb presses over your clit that is covered by the lace of your panties, now destroyed with your excitation and your eyes flutter at the contact, lips falling open in need of more.

Hyunjin is fascinated by you, watches you in complete ecstasy as he feels white hot flames licking at his cock “you’re so wet angel.” He whispers the words right atop of your lips, kisses them into you and you almost lose it. Bucking into his hand, chasing after his touch.

“All for you.” You mumble back, spreading tempting kisses all over his face, over his lips and then his chin “please take me.”

Hyunjin is all but a strong man. At least not when it comes to you, if only you knew the amount of control and power you had on him. It doesn’t feel like something a mere human should be able to do to him. Has him questioning who you are roaming this earth right next to him. A flutter of your lashes is enough for Hyunjin to be a goner. His hands grip the roots of your hair pulling hard enough to earn a sweet gasp from you, pretty pleading eyes looking up at him has him hardening painfully so in his pants.

“Are you gonna stop acting like a slut if I fuck you?” he jeers, grows amazed at the way you preen under his words, head nodding as if you’re on the verge of death and he’s your only salvation. He rewards you with a quirk of his lips, a brush of his thumb on your inner thigh “go wait for me in your room.” You’re quick to listen, jumping off the counter and hurrying across the kitchen.

Hyunjin doesn’t take long to find you, it left you slightly swaying in excitement like you’re a prey that’s hiding in innocence that is nowhere near real, and when Hyunjin is by your door, the hallway light illuminates his lithe figure. A nervousness mixes with your excitement, leaves your stomach sinking and your fingers clutching the silk of your sheets. It’s a different setting with a similar scene and reversed roles when he walks towards you, eyes heavy and feral and by the time he’s in front of you, you feel breathless.

Your underwear sticks uncomfortably with wetness. Hyunjin’s fingers graze your chin, dragging your attention to him. You look up with wide eyes, soft and fond while his are alight with pure lust for you. He leans down, squeezes himself in your space and takes your lips in a short kiss, too sweet and pure. A juxtaposition to his darkening desires.

“Lie down.” He whispers and you follow with eagerness to please. Obvious in the way you climb up the bed and fall backwards on one of your pillows. Your hair sprawled around you and your night dress rising to give him a glimpse of your lace panties is enough to have him drunk on his desire for you.

Hyunjin stares down at you with a look full of adoration and mix of want. A desire to destroy you, devour you, his hands itch and he follows. A trifling victim to your existence.

Hooking his leg over you, he cups your cheek sweetly, a swipe of candied devotion has you closing your eyes, ashamed to be witnessed in the acts of wanting him, needing him. His hand trails down, brushing over your lips, chin until they’re wrapping around your throat and lets the weight of his hand rest there, not yet adding pressure.

The glazing of your eyes when you open them has him smirking in something akin to winning a prize, you inflate his ego.

“You like it?” he asks, and you don’t answer. Can’t find your voice until his fingers start to slightly press against your throat, just enough to have you struggling for a breath.

“Answer.” His eyes narrow and you gasp softly, a symphony he only wishes to be good enough to play again.

“Yes.”

“Who knew you were this naughty?” he growls, teases his thumb with a swipe on the heart of your throat and you whimper, squirming under his gaze.

“Hyunjin,” you plea, voice doused in desperation and Hyunjin only chuckles darkly, finds himself constantly amazed by the way you always fall apart so easily “mhm?” he looms over you, tilts his head in faux wonder as his grip on your throat relents and he places a bruising kiss there instead.

“Please don’t tease me.” Your eyes are pleading, crumbling in a way that you hope is enough to convey your need. In a way that you hanker is enough to feed his ego just so he’ll spare you. Hyunjin only smiles at you, mean and cruel as his thumb strokes over your cheek.

“didn’t you just tell me you’re mine?” you nod incessantly, yearning for his approval.

“Then be a good girl for me and take it, mhm?” your head lolls to the side in defeat, your whole chest enveloped with warmth at the brush of his lips against yours and it’s soon replaced with his index and middle finger, prodding your bottom lip.

“Open.” His voice drips in dominance, your eyes blink at him obediently before you’re opening your mouth and taking his fingers inside. Hyunjin swallows thickly, eyes lidded as he stares at you, feels the way your tongue swirls around his digits.

“Fuck look at you.” You stare back at him, unrelenting and he almost lets himself deviate at your extant.

“Wish that was my cock in your mouth yeah?” his eyes hover over your lips, filled to the brim with lust and voice breathy, low, and more than anything validating when he sounds as needy as you are. You close your eyes in bliss, moaning around his fingers as the images of what he said flash in your mind. It has you tripping over the edge, your core drips completely soaking the fabric of your panties.

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything as he takes his fingers out, your pouty lips and glazed eyes call for him and he follows as if he’s under a spell. Pressing his lips to yours in a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth and he swallows every sweet sound. Pines for another part of you to keep inside of him.

He leans back, watches in satisfaction the way you surrender yourself to him, fully.

He bunches the rest of very little fabric of your night dress and rid it all the way up exposing the lacy material that’s dripping with the mess of your cunt.

He moves to take your panties off, takes his sweet time to slide the fabric down your smooth legs. You’re spreading your legs for him almost shamelessly, pathetic in your need for him and he’s all but drunk on his ego when he looks at the mess on your puffy pussy. His brushes his thumb between your folds, his eyes imploring naughtily into yours.

“How bad do you want it?” His smirk is almost evil, entranced by you and the way your expression falls, eyebrows dropping and the way your eyes fill prettily with tears, resembles the moon and Hyunjin is nothing but a follower.

“S-so bad,” you whimper, voice on the edge of broken and Hyunjin only tsks, causing your heart to sink.

“Say it like you mean it.” He’s stern and you whine.

“Hyunjin please,” your tears trail over your cheeks like rain on his heart, in the sweetest way, he wonders what is this addicting sugary fondness that covers everything you do under his watching eyes. His heart is in his throat when he leans over you, wishing to repay your sweetness while pressing kisses that are nowhere close, to your tears.

“Shh come on, I know you can do it.”

“Please fuck me,” you writhe under him, your entire body prickles in heat “please I want you so bad.” Hyunjin rewards you with a soft smile, a loving kiss pressing to your cheek “good girl.” His breath tickles you, heart swelling in your chest and the need to please him takes over, driving you right into complete submission. It has you melting on your sheets when his digits finally sink into your warm, wet pussy. Your mouth falls open in a moan, hips rutting against his fingers for more.

You feel it all the over your body, in your veins and running alongside your blood is nothing but a need for him, a longing for the boy you had loved ever since you were sixteen and even now, moons later you’re only ever plunged deeper into this love. Like he had stolen you away and locked you up.

Hyunjin watches you like a hawk, burns the vision of you under him behind his eyelids, wishes to see you every time he closes his eyes. He draws his fingers back, eyeing the way in which your pussy grips them before pushing his fingers forward, your back arches off the bad, mouth spilling sweet mewls and whines. It has his own mouth agape, high on your voice.

“can’t wait to feel you on my cock.” He mummers, absentmindedly and eyes focused on your cunt. He adds a third finger just to see it slowly stretch around his fingers, just to feel you fall apart and thrust your hips forward, wildly in uncontrollable need that takes over you and for him, only ever for him. It’s the telltale of your approaching orgasm, chasing after it. But Hyunjin is a selfish asshole that swears to break you over and over again. Your high is ruthlessly ripped away from you, leaving you with a cry of frustration, more hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

His gaze is dark upon you, heavy and lidded as he brings his fingers to his mouth, closing his pinked lips around them in vaunt. Your tears are marring your eyesight, chest heaving, and you whimper when he moans as if to savor your taste. The sound has you soaking your sheets.

“Please, Hyunjin...”

He stays quiet, his own patience wearing thinner and thinner the more you cry, His expression serious and hungry as he unties the drawstring to his grey sweatpants. He’s impatient, needing you close, so he quickly frees his cock from the shackles of his boxers. He hovers over you, his palm rests next your head, using the other to guide his length between your folds, using you to wet his cock.

Your mouth falls open in mewl, hips bucking and hole clenching in anticipation “Please,” you whimpered pathetically, your arms locking behind his neck. Your touch burns him and sets his heart on fire. He stills, as if he’s captivated by you. His mind was swirling with only the image of you, the smell of you engulfs him. The air is stagnant, the lust surrounding you deepens, fades into love that dances between you two. A dance of temptation to watch which one of you two will fall first.

And it’s always him.

When he takes your lips into his he feels like a prisoner who has been deprived of the light for so long, a yearning so deep in his soul that suddenly devours him whole and snaps when he sinks himself into you, let himself drown in you and you welcome him like he’s coming back home. Right where he belongs, the feeling of your wet walls that swallow him whole has him breaking your kiss, throwing his head back with pleasurable groan as his hips drive into you.

“Fuck waited so long for this,” he slurs, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and onto you. You who’s nothing but a withering mess under him, you who’s sobbing uncontrollably into his skin and manicured nails digging crescent into his back, leaving yourself all over him.

Hyunjin basks in your kitten like whimpers, in the way you look, your tears that are only ever for him, the clenching of your walls around him has tipping over the edge of insanity. Losing himself in the existence of you, he begins to thrust into you faster, harder, deeper.

“J-Jinnie,” It has your eyes rolling back, mouth agape as your moans are buried within the sheets when you bury your head into your shoulder, drooling all over the silk. The sensation almost too good, pleasure rakes over your body and Hyunjin finds himself following you once again, lost in the waves of your pleasure, he grabs your hand to center himself, entwining his fingers with yours “yeah? Feels good?” his whispers dances along the side of your face, dipping to your neck to litter bruising kisses. Promises of marks for you to remember this night for a little while.

You could only nod, incapable of making a coherent sentence and Hyunjin snaps his hips forward, forces his cock deep inside you “so fucking warm this fucking cunt is mine yeah?” he groans, grinding his pelvis against yours and you cry out, back arching impossibly higher into him, the fabric of your night dress burns your skin “yes! Yes!” his filthy words travel deep inside your core, and warmth spreads inside you, a familiar knot starts to form in your stomach. He looks down at your flushed face, with your mouth heavy and your eyes wet, he finds himself wishing once again he had his phone to take a picture of this specific moment, a picture of you being wrecked by him so he could jerk off to it later.

How does he still want you so badly when he’s inside of you?

You mewl when he grinds you into you, right in your sweet spot, it has your walls clenching around him tighter as your orgasm approaches “you’re gonna cum for me pretty? Mhm?” He rasped out, listening to how wet you were. You don’t answer him, your swollen lips are busy spilling endless pretty sounds that add fuel to his fire, drilling into you just to hear you again and again. He fucked into you like you’ve unlocked a different part of him.

“g-gonna c-cum Jinnie.” You whimper, a buzz reached every inch of you, your muscles tensing, and your stomach tightens.

“Cum all over me baby. All over my cock.” He growls with a bated breath, hips stuttering as his own orgasm approaches him like a tempest, colors explode behind his eyelids and your voice rings in his ears as he fucks you through your orgasm and through his. You felt your cunt gushing around him while he spilled himself into you to complete the process of tainting you, he’s got all of you now.

You close your eyes, overpowered by the exhaustion of your body that you don’t get to linger in because Hyunjin is all over you again, in the throbbing between your legs, the skipping beats of your heart and his lips on yours. Capturing them in a sweet kiss, fond, that renders you breathless when he pulls back to stare at you, his hand squeezes yours with dripping affection.

“I love you.” His own words take him by surprise, had jumped from his heart right to his mouth and spilled right into your face without his permission. A complete betrayal. That sends him into panic, all the pages he had written about doing this the right way rips itself in front of him. They stare at him in defeat.

You fall into a similar surprise, the words echo in your ears and travel down to your chest, has your heart stopping for a mere minute as if you had gone dead for a moment. A moment when those words had come out of his mouth. Your silence makes his stomach twist in sick knots, eyebrows furrowing as he asses you in a tentative dance of your eye contact.

“You don’t have to say anything back. It just slipped i- “

“I love you too, Hyunjin.” Your tears come back like a rain flood, descending gently upon your cheeks, and stabbing at his heart painfully, his thumbs wipe at them gently, a hesitant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as if his reality and dreams interweave leaving him in a daze. A hue of greying clouds separates and there’s only you.

There’s only you and he’s not entailed to keep looking for you everywhere he goes. You’re here, you never left.

“You do?” he asks, yearning. Hope comes in and takes over every glint in his eyes and your tears somehow multiply, spreading their salty pain through your already aching soul. The graveyard that you had in your heart blooms into lilies instead. Resembles the upcoming spring, the peaches in his scent that clings to your body now, and the warm tinges of pink on his cheeks.

A sense of fatality gripped you, and you pray like a hopeless tragedy for more time. Just a little more time.

“There’s not a day that goes by without me loving you, Hyunjin.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Previous | Next

Masterlist

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Taglist: @annybah , @christopherisfoive , @realrintaro , @kkamismom12 , @nujeskz , @wolfietara , @luvvvash , @pnkcasket , @asiixc , @shyshyshytwice , @samhomo , @babrieeee , @nhyunn , @enzstr , @idontlikecoffeeortea . @feelikecinderella , @not-very-slay-of-you , @linocvp1d , @amarecerasus , @itgirlalisaa , @arikazu , @hyundumpling , @skzhoes , @cupkiki , @avokralaim , @hyunenenenenennenenehs , @super-btstrash-posts , @mellhwang , @kaiyaba , @hyunjinloverrrr , @finnbbl , @rockyhedgehog , @heyhaez , @anjian03 , @jihanniee , @skvrze , @tia827 , @enzos-shit , @lilliansreality , @sora123sblog , @certified-lana-del-rey-lover , @chartrucewhore , @dessianna1 , @skz1lov , @dreamerwasfound , @lixie-phoria , @doggezz , @sillygoosegoose , @siriusly1 , @iheartchaes , @staygurl4evr , @hello-4456 , @20crowsinahoodie , @hyunjinhwang-23

(bold can't be tagged please remember to check your settings so i can tag you!)

214 notes · View notes

alwritey-aphrodite · 1 month

Note

"wow I really cant speak huh? must be how pretty you look" with tasm! Peter parker

Peter knows he’s not exactly the epitome of suave and charming. He’s a little awkward, lanky and clumsy despite his choice of extracurricular, and May says he still leaves the house without his clothes matching or ironed most days. Still, he can’t help but want to talk to you, even when he trips over his words and makes a fool of himself every single time.

“Hey, can I sit?” He asks, voice too loud for the quiet library as he gestures towards the empty chair across from you. There are plenty of extra seats, open tables scattered all throughout the room, but you’re like a magnet, and every time Peter sees you, he can’t help but make his way over.

“Go ahead,” you respond in the appropriate volume, with a smile that makes your eyes shine as he sets his bag down, backpack thumping against the floor and causing all eyes to settle on him once again. He’s quick to pull out his own supplies as you turn back to your open textbook, highlighter gliding across the page every few minutes. Peter gets no work done, but he really can’t be blamed because how is he expected to focus when you’re so beautiful when you’re concentrating? Terrified of being caught staring, he turns back towards his blank page and scribbles some nonsense, hoping you don’t think he’s a complete weirdo.

He’s so focused on trying to look like he’s busy without actually doing anything that he doesn’t notice when you shut your textbook and slide it into your bag, and he nearly jumps out of his seat in shock when you lean forward to tap your knuckles against the table.

“Wanna grab lunch?” You ask, leaning across the table to keep your voice down but all Peter can focus on is how pretty your hair looks, illuminated from behind like an angel.

“Yeah, sure, that would be awesome,” he struggles to form any sort of concise or cohesive sentence, but you smile anyway, leaving him to miss your proximity as you straighten up and haul your backpack onto your shoulder.

It really is a beautiful day, and it seems like the entire city is in a good mood, celebrating the end of winter and the beginning of warm weather and sunshine. It won’t last long, and soon everyone will be angry and rude and hot and miserable, but for now, the weather is perfect and people smile as you walk past.

“I’m so ready for this semester to be over,” you say as you tilt your head upwards, like a flower seeking out the sun, and Peter’s so enamored he almost forgets to respond, until you sneak a glance out of the corner of your eye, your lips quirked up in a teasing smile, something less soft but no less beautiful than the smile he typically receives.

“Oh yeah, me too,” he manages to reply, your knuckles brushing against his as you swing your arms while you walk.

“Any big plans?” This time you tilt your head towards him, and the full force of your attention is almost too much, almost enough to make Peter’s heart stop and his brain shut down. He doesn’t trust his brain to create a full, coherent response, so he just shakes his head, smiling as you reply, “Me neither,” before he even gets the chance to ask.

The two of you stop by one of the many cheap takeout restaurants near the library, grabbing your food and finding a bench to enjoy the weather, keeping your head tilted up to the sun as if it’s truly magnetic, as if you don’t have a choice but to bloom. Peter tries his best to be a good conversationalist, but he’s got so many thoughts and feelings swirling through his brain that every time he looks at you, or can feel you looking at him, he’s unable to respond the way he wants to.

“Wow, I really can’t speak, huh?” He asks rhetorically after stuttering over his words for what seems like the millionth time, “Must be how pretty you look.” He spares you a sideways glance, a little afraid to look at you fully, but he can’t help but grin when he sees your mouth open and close, silently attempting to form a response. He laughs and you follow suit, leaning against his side with the force of your giggles and sending him into a spiral all over again. You'd been on equal footing for a minute, but even as his heart pounds against his ribs and you straighten up again, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm peter parker #tasm fanfiction #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction

189 notes · View notes

paradisedumpling · 3 months

Text

The Unbitten Pomegranate

_________________________________________

TROPE: GoddessOfDeath!Karina x GoddessOfLife!Reader; lil bit of angst; some fluff; Greek Mythology; this is more character focused than couple focused iykwim

SYNOPSIS: spring has come, and with it, feelings resurfaced in the hearts of two very different but so similar beings

CONTENT WARNING: descriptions of death (no major characters though); feelings of loneliness; underworld mentioned a bit often; Hades and Persephone are hinted to have/had a relationship; weird grammar; I'm so sleepy I definitely forgot some stuff I'm sorry guys

A/N¹: I wrote this in 2021 in another language and just google translated it, so if the grammar is all weird I'm so sorry 😭

A/N²: I would also just like to adress that I wrote this at 16 years of age and my view of Hades and Persephone's relationship was very romanticized at the time, and I understand today (at 19) that it definitely isn't like that. The only thing hinted here is that Karina is their daughter and I totally understand if you're uncomfortable reading it, there's no problem skipping this, always care for your health first no matter what.

_________________________________________

It's spring again. Flowers bloom, lovers enjoy the serene climate, and animals wake up from their long hibernation. The best time of the year, many would say. For most people, maybe it is, but not for her.

For her, all spring brings are those who didn't survive the winter. Those who are allergic to pollen, who do not have much immune defense in the beloved season. The withered flowers, discarded after being gifted in numbers due to the lack of something more sentimental in a supposed special date. And everything else that spring cannot have.

Spring is nothing more than a pretty cover for a long-damaged book. Maybe it's her ignorance. She has never experienced the beauty that many say spring possess, just all the bad things that every season brings. She can't see so much beauty in something that causes so many problems. But she can't help but long to feel that feeling one day, if it even exists.

So, yes, it must be her ignorance that prevents her from seeing a beautiful story behind the pretty cover.

Either way, torn or newly processed pages, it doesn't matter. It will never matter. Spring is something distant, just like any other season, or living thing. Life and beauty are not something you find easily in the world she lives in. Unless it's something from outside, something that shouldn't be there, everything is cold, dark, vulgar and even tenebrous, on some days.

Something beautiful and full of life like spring is just a distant desire, a longing for something you never had or will never have again, a heartache you will never overcome.

There is no reason to ponder on something as distant as spring, so why is she here Standing at the passage that leads the underworld to the overworld, and vice versa. Thinking about the irrelevance of something she never had, never wanted.

Why did she suddenly care so much about the world above her own? A world that only holds grudges against her home, her family, her work. A world that doesn't deserve a second of her thought.

So why are she still here? Standing. Looking. Pondering. Wishing.

Maybe she didn't want to know at that moment. She didn't want to admit what she feared would be the answer to her questions.

It wasn't worth it anyway. Nothing would happen, as usual. Nothing happens. Nothing good, at least. It never happened and it will never happen. There is no reason to create hope that something good would happen.

Feelings like hope only bring more pain and she had no time for stupid feelings like this.

She had no time to feel anything but apathy toward the souls that roam her world and the monsters imprisoned in her land by someone who lied to himself about having power over everyone and everything.

She didn't have time for silly feelings and stupid thoughts.

And much less time to stay here, standing, thinking about meaningless things like the stupid spring and the stupid–

Maybe she's going too far. She shouldn't let her stress take over her reason. Her father always told her that the best way to release stress was to throw sinners into a river of lava. It's not the best option, but it's still viable.

On the other hand, her mother, a much wiser and calmer woman, always said that the best method was to take a deep breath and ask someone experienced for advice.

She could talk to her mother about this, she had always been the best at giving advice.

But her mother wasn't here. She was there, enjoying the wonders of spring, along with all the joys of the world above and that damned red hair that wouldn't leave her head, and–

"Miss?"

Yes, she didn't have time. She didn't have time because she had important tasks that couldn't be postponed. The arrival of spring also meant a new year, a new cycle. And like all other cycles, it was accompanied by problems that could only be solved by her.

She had work to do, and she didn't have time to dwell on the irrelevance of spring. Or the absence of her mother. Or those red locks that sometimes obstructed the beautiful features that her hope carried.

She didn't have time.

So she turned around and followed the butler to where her duties called. At least then she could forget. She didn't have to question it, much less deny it. She didn't have to wish.

Spring wasn't important, nor were her disjointed feelings.

---------------------------------------------------

It's spring again. Flowers bloom, lovers enjoy the serene climate, and animals wake up from their long hibernation. The best time of the year, if anyone asked you.

Not that they needed to.

If the smile on your face and the laughter you let out as you ran through the woods were nothing more than clear indications of your satisfaction with the arrival of spring.

Everything was so beautiful, so bright, so full of life. You couldn't think of a single soul who didn't like spring. Not even those who are gone and now inhabit the underworld.

Everyone has experienced spring, there's no way not to love it.

Everything was perfect, except one thing; the absence of those deep eyes.

You don't remember the first time you noticed them, but you know that since then, you've never forgotten them. It was as if you were drawn to them, that if you watched them for a long period of time you would forget the world around you.

When was the last time you had seen those captivating eyes? Two or three decades ago? Perhaps even a century has passed. So much time and you still hadn't forgotten that gaze; maybe you were getting sick.

With each passing season, you looked forward to the opportunity to see her again. You didn't even know the name of the one with such captivating eyes, but you were determined to find out.

It couldn't be difficult, right? The underworld doesn't have that many Gods and deities, so it shouldn't be a difficult mission.

Determined, you ran to the end of the hill, jumping over trunks and roots with grace, leaving a path of flowers where you feet touched.

Perhaps your mother knew something about those of the underworld. You could ask your uncle too. For all you knew, he had friends down there.

"Mother!" You ran into the temple, being careful not to bump into any of the animals on the way. "Mother!" You saw your mother in the garden, a Swallow on her finger, while she took care of its wing, which appeared to be injured. Both the bird and your mother looked at you in surprise at your sudden appearance. "Are you busy?" You stopped running, rubbing your hands behind your back in embarrassment, taking a few steps back to give your mother and the animal space. "I can come back another time, no problem."

"It isn't necessary. We were already finishing here." Your mother caressed the bird's beak, walking to a tree and leaving it on one of the low branches. Turning around, your mother walked towards you with a welcoming smile. "What's the curiosity of the moment, dear? You never come like this unless you have something to ask me." Your mother laughed, guiding you to the garden behind the temple. "So, what do you want to know?"

"I want to know about the Gods of the underworld." Your mother stopped walking, looking at you as if you had grown three heads. Well, you had never asked about this subject before. Maybe if you explained your reasoning, she would relax. "It's just... Well... There's this Goddess and–"

"You didn't eat any fruit that these people offered you, right?" The serious tone in her voice made you look at you mother in surprise. It was rare that your mother used that tone of voice directed at you. "Honey, if they're bothering you, just tell me and I'll sort it out quickly. They will see what happens for messing with my baby." The bow and arrow materialized in the hand of the Goddess, who had a determined and angry expression.

"What? No! Mother!" You moved in front of your mother, one hand on her right shoulder and the other holding her left wrist, avoiding that she raised the bow in the air. "No one is bothering me, much less offering me fruits from the underworld. Don't worry." Your mother looked at you cautiously, analyzing you for any signs of lies.

After a while, she finally relaxed, the bow and arrow dematerializing from her hands.

"Why are you curious about that place so suddenly?" She asked, resuming her walking and looking at you curiously. "Don't you know enough? Everything in that place is horrible, as is every being that inhabits it. From the King of the Underworld, to his heirs, his servants, the other Gods and all those monsters that are sparsely contained in an open field. What kind of idea is that?! To leave all these life-destroying monsters with so much comfort and the pleasure of free mobility? That man must be out of his mind if he thinks the best idea is to let those atrocities be free like that."

You were a little afraid by the way your mother talked about the underworld. You knew it wasn't the ideal place, but it wasn't that bad. It can not be. If the Goddess of Spring herself chose to live there, it shouldn't be so bad.

And those black eyes that captivated your attention. You never saw any evil in them.

Only melancholy, but never evil.

You couldn't imagine them carrying that evil fire that everyone says the Gods of the underworld have by nature.

"I just- I was just curious." You replied, not wishing to hear any more disgust from your mother. "I was wondering, with the end of winter, that many of the animals that didn't survive are there now. I was just curious about what happens once you die and go there, nothing more. I'm sorry if I offended you somehow."

"Oh, honey. You didn't offend me." You mother placed a hand on your cheek. "But I don't want to hear any more about this matter. We don't know if it attracts them." Your mother shook her head, as if shaking off the thoughts. "And don't speak about these insensitive subjects around the animals. They might become sad." She looked around, noticing some of the animals that visited the temple looking at the two of you curiously.

The Swallow from before was looking at you with an intimidating intensity.

"I'm sorry again." Smiling, you adjusted your dress and put your hair back. "I better go now, I still have to check how the animals to the south are doing. I also have to see the farmers' crops in the plains. So I still have a lot to do."

"Yes. I'm also very busy." Your mother called two deers with her hand, which were probably waiting to be attended to before you got there. "Don't come back late, alright?"

With a final nod of your head, your went on your way out of the temple, still thinking about the dark-eyed Goddess who has been occupying your mind for so long.

---------------------------------------------------

The grand Mount Olympus, where the greatest Gods in the world are found. The most beautiful and purest place in the world, where everything is perfect and everyone treats you with affection and respect; or so they say.

For her, Mount Olympus was just a place where several ignorant and selfish people lived, too busy filling their own egos to think about anything similar to 'affection and respect'.

If someone one day were to gain the privilege, or the misfortune, of being called to this place, you can be assured that it was only for the selfishness and egotism of the God who called upon you.

Luckily for her, she didn't have to come to Olympus often. A meeting her father couldn't attend once in a century was better than coming here every week.

But that didn't mean she liked coming here.

Every word her uncle spoke was a sigh that left her mouth. She was bored and starting to get irritated with the aimless conversation.

She felt sorry for her father for having to actively participate in these meetings. Most of the time they didn't discuss anything related to the underworld, but he still had to come. She understood why he spent so much time in the lava river when he returned home.

At least there was one thing she tolerated in all of this; The Goddess with red hair.

You seemed so calm, occasionally giving opinions, smiling at everyone, looking at her....

Looking at her?! Were you looking at her?!

Disbelieved, she turned her gaze, trying to calm her heart and ease her embarrassment, opting to touch her glass full of wine, which had not been touched until this moment.

After a while, she looked again, realizing that you were still looking at her. This time, giving her a smile when you saw her return your gaze.

She didn't know what to do, she was never caught looking at the you, much less interacted with you.

Not wanting to ignore you, she waved her hand discreetly and turned her gaze away again, not wanting to attract the attention of the other Gods.

She wasn't going crazy, she couldn't. She ignored those feelings for so long, occupying herself with her work in the underworld and the certainty that you hated her, just like all the other Gods.

So why were you and your beautiful red hair looking and smiling at her at that moment?

She didn't want to think about the reasons at that moment, and she had never been so relieved when her uncle announced a break in the meeting, which should have been going on for hours.

Rising from her father's throne, she silently left the meeting hall and went to the garden of Olympus, probably the only truly beautiful and pure thing in that entire place.

Walking along the path at the entrance to the garden, she saw a Swallow near the carnation flowerbed. Approaching cautiously, but keeping a reasonable distance from the bird, she crouched down and admired the animal, a small smile on her face.

The times she came to the garden of Mount Olympus were one of the few moments when she could witness life, not just the remains of it. One of the few moments she could forget who she was.

"I was hoping I'd find you here." She knew that voice. If it were anyone else, she would eternally curse them for interrupting her moment, but not you.

Sighing, she looked at the Swallow one last time, as if hoping that the animal would enlighten her mind with ideas to escape that situation. She didn't know if she was ready to face the owner of red hair she long admired.

Deciding to accept that this time there was no escaping, she turned around, finally facing the one who inhabited her mind more than she would like to admit.

"I... I would like to talk." She looked behind you, not wanting any of the other Gods to see the two of you together. She didn't want to cause any problems. "If you want of course." You turned your gaze away, red flowers springing around you, giving away your shyness.

That sight got a small laugh out of her, earning a confused look from you.

"Your mother wouldn't like to see you with me. Or none of the others, for that matter." She turned to watch the flowers again.

She was afraid of being distracted by the beauty of the Goddess in front of her, she didn't want to cause herself any embarrassment.

"What would you like to talk about? I can't imagine what a Goddess of life could want with a Goddess of death." She looked at the your red hair from the corner of her eye. "If you wish to know how to bring someone back to the world of the living, I am afraid that there is no way to do such a thing." When you didn't immediately respond, she knew she never had a chance.

She should never have had hoped. You must hate her, just as everyone else despises her.

"What is your favorite animal?" What? "I imagine there shouldn't be many in the underworld, but there must be some animal that pleases you the most."

Maybe she was really going crazy. No one from Olympus ever asked her anything personal, she were certainly hearing things.

But you curiously looked at her, waiting for her answer, as you slowly sat down next to her.

Turning her head away in embarrassment, she replied. "I like sea animals. I never actually got to see the sea, so I find them fascinating. But I don't have any specific ones. There aren't many books on the subject at home and I don't want to have favorites before I have greater knowledge about the area." When she looked at you again, you had a big smile on your face. "What about you? I mean, if you have one. I don't think the Life and Fauna Goddess has a favorite animal."

You laughed, approaching her and leaning in to say something in her ear.

"Don't let the others hear." You looked at the Swallow, who was watching the two of you curiously. "But I have a weak spot when it comes to beavers. They are so kind." The two of you shared a laugh, falling into a comfortable silence soon after, watching the bird try to take one of the carnations from the flowerbed in its beak. "Y/n." You extended your hand, giving her the sweetest and most sincere smile she had ever received in her entire existence, your gracious red locks flowing with the wind making the scene the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

"Karina." She smiled back. It was a strange act, she wasn't used to it, but it wasn't undesirable. "Maybe we should head back." She looked at the entrance to the garden, being able to hear some of the other Gods, who should be returning to the meeting hall at the moment. "We can finish this conversation another time." She stood up, extending her hand to help you get up.

"Will there be another time? Cool." She heard you mumble, containing her laughter at it. "Yeah, at another time." The bird took flight, taking two carnation flowers with it. "It really must be time to go back." You two exchanged one last smile, starting the walk back to the boring meeting room.

But maybe it wouldn't be so tedious anymore. Perhaps she would accompany her father to Olympus more often.

And maybe she could wish. Maybe she could admire her hope outside of her memories.

And maybe, just maybe, Karina was beginning to understand the mysterious beauty of spring.

_________________________________________

a/n: y'all I know the moodboard is terrible but I'm so tired and sleepy I can barely see my phone screen, I'll fix it tomorrow I promise 🙏

thank you for reading!! <3

#aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa karina #karina x reader #yoo jimin x reader #aespa karina x reader

234 notes · View notes

kithtaehyung · 1 year

Text

busted (3tan) (teaser) | myg

teaser: busted (m) (3tan10) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) , jungkook x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call rating/genre: m (18+) ; [redacted] ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: [redacted lol just trust me] note: alright, listen.. the chapter is coming along but plans and life got in the way so i wasn’t able to get it done before tour. however, i do have a lot of it written/halfway done, so i feel comfortable enough to offer y’all a teaser and will finish it out once i’m done with this trip. i do hope y’all understand, 3tan is coming back v v soon ! :’)) note 2: as for the rest of this chapter.. fuck lol warnings: none for teaser, final list to be named on drop day! est. drop date: late may - early june 2023 teaser wc: 1.8k est. total wc: 15-18k

Here goes nothing and everything.

It was fifteen years ago when you first met Jungkook. When the sidewalks in your neighborhood were fewer and the occupancy in your house was higher.

A tiny boy, he was immediately ready to stay by your side, despite the limited amount of time he got to hang around before his parents corralled his energy back inside their car.

Later on, he would tell you that had something to do with them not wanting him influenced by your brother and his group. But you didn’t know that at the time.

Ever since the two of you met, you became the best of friends. And as you grew older, it was only natural that feelings bloomed with everything else.

In the midst of an ever changing garden, you found something that never wavered, vibrant in color and immovable at its root.

Which was strange. You’d never compared people to flora before him.

But, because of Jungkook, you couldn’t help but see everyone as such—lilies, buttercups, the ones that trap to survive.

And he was the prettiest, strongest flower of them all.

There was rain. There were storms. But with them came hope, and a pair of cheap rings that the two of you bought nestled nicely in boxes, waiting to be unearthed when you were ready.

However.

What also came was a lesson. One that you would learn again when two of every seat remained unused in your household.

A lesson that people are more like seasons than flowers.

They change with or without you.

And they pass by.

“We can go somewhere quieter if you want,” Jungkook offers. And you know he’s going to suggest your room before he even utters the words.

But of course he adds a small, “If I’m allowed in there anymore.”

When he laughs, your smile is as slow as your head shake, a few memories of old tasting bittersweet on your tongue. “We can.”

“Okay.”

When you make your way to your room, you hear the thumps of music and rhythms of conversation—both casual and loud—echoing throughout the house. Some people are sharing laughs, others are scooting just a bit closer, and a lucky one is cackling before demanding that everyone hand over their money.

All of them oblivious to the fact that you’re about to rip off a piece of your heart.

Well. That may not be the case. But based on the conversation that you had with Jungkook before your interview, this wasn’t going to be an easy one in the slightest—not for him, nor for you.

But if he’s gonna keep pushing forward, this is a stop you need to put up regardless.

During a party isn’t what you had in mind, though. Much less one in your own house.

You don’t know if anyone sees you open your door for Jungkook to pass through, or if they notice the slump of your mood, but you figure no one will care anyways.

Until you see someone out of the corner of your peripheral.

And the skip of your heart tells you who it is.

Occupying one of the hallways a ways away, you can tell he’s very aware of you despite being in the middle of a chatty group.

But what’s on his mind? Is he worried? Is he gonna ask what this is about?

Damn it. You’re just gonna have to tell him later. You can’t exactly do anything now.

A voice peeps from behind your tense shoulders,

“You okay?”

Fuck.

Turning, you nod to the boy in your room before shutting your door, giving one more look to the man whose last text you couldn’t read.

And the way he stares makes you wanna bolt from everyone entirely.

When your door clicks shut, you slowly swivel, only the bass of your brother’s music pushing the walls in closer.

Jungkook’s doing exactly what you knew he’d do, wandering around your room and either leaning in to observe, or lightly touching things that he remembers.

The soft puff of a laugh snaps you into focus. “I can’t believe you still have all his medals up.”

Ah. He even remembers the way you have all your brother’s trophies and achievements displayed—all because you liked seeing them shine, and he didn’t want them in his room.

Sweeping your gaze along two of your walls, you let out a tiny sound of amusement while agreeing, “I can. Too lazy to take them down.”

“I can do it,” he immediately responds. “If you need me to.”

If it had been five years ago, you would’ve been enamored that he even offered.

But five years ago is when he shattered any hopes you had for the two of you, so you turn him down yet again. “It’s okay.”

“You sure?”

“We’re here to talk, not decorate, Jungkook.”

He stares before nodding in dejection, eyes finding something other than you. “It’s still weird to hear you say my name.”

It’s weird to say it.

But you can’t let him know you agree, so the sound you make is half-cautious and weakly lighthearted. “You think so?”

“Ah, yeah.” He flashes a smile that still squeezes air from your lungs. “I’d gotten too used to all the names you had for me.”

“Oh, god.”

“But I guess someone else gets to hear them now.”

Goddamn it. He’s not gonna give up, just like he said right before your interview.

“Who are you seeing?”

“Kook…”

“I wanna know.”

“Why?”

He walks over to your nightstand, picking up a picture of you and your friends from years back.

And your heart pangs at how big his back has become.

Without turning, Jungkook lifts his head to stare at your ceiling. And if he’s wondering whether the glow stars he stuck all over it are still there or not, you don’t know if you’d admit that you never took them down.

“So that I’d know if I still have a chance.”

“You already had yours,” you whisper. “Remember?”

And when you look up, he’s already staring at you with regret.

Memories start to come back, but you shove them away with force, trying to empty your sinking boat with a teaspoon.

Every time he had walked back from school with you, every time he would make you laugh when you felt alone, every time he stayed at your place when your brother had to be out—all of them competed with each other to punch you in the gut and push you to your knees.

“I do,” is all he says before softly placing the frame on your bed. “I fucked that up, didn’t I.”

The times he said he’d be there when you needed him, the times he said it was gonna be okay when you struggled with your seemingly deepest darkest secrets.

All the times you knew you’d have a long future with him.

“You did.”

Everything leading up to the time he said you should break up before you left for university.

Right before you were going to tell him you loved him.

Your heart hasn’t beat in awhile, but you don’t notice until Jungkook starts walking towards your planted feet. Was he really so far away? How did he cover the distance between so fast?

With a sigh occupying your chest, you muse that he looks so different, but also not different at all.

And, just like the time you saw him downtown, your brain doesn’t know how to separate the Jungkook you knew from the one you see in front of you.

Because they are still the same.

You don’t budge as he stands resolute, inches away but encasing you in his familiar presence. When his hand comes up to your face, he almost touches—but the slight hesitation has you holding your breath before he surrenders his hand at his side.

“I was an idiot,” he admits, throat seemingly small and making yours the same size. “I never should’ve… I can’t believe I…”

You watch as he flips his head up, and you hate how you know exactly what he’s trying to hide.

But your soul still remembers the wound it was dealt. So while you don’t want him feeling this way, you’re perfectly okay to fight back.

He doesn’t get to cry when he’s the reason for all those tears.

“And yet you did,” you remind him, proud of how stable your voice leaves lips that used to seek his. “And you left me so fucking confused.”

“I know.”

“Do you really?”

He flickers regretful eyes your way, giving you all the room to talk.

And you’re going to.

“Do you actually know, Kook? How fucked up that made me feel right before going where I knew nobody. No one.”

His nostrils flare while eyebrows flinch.

You expel a tough breath, everything that happened before bubbling up to the surface. Nights you spent wondering what happened, days you spent feeling unwanted, times you felt so fucking alone.

“Is it true that you even loved me?”

“Yes,” he finally shatters, face contorting and eyes welling at their rims. “Of course I did.”

Did.

“I still do.”

Liar.

“I thought I was the only one.” You search his eyes, hating how you would comfort him in an instant if this were any other circumstance. Hating, hating, loathing that this is how you find out your love wasn’t unrequited. “Why did you push me away?”

“I didn��t—I didn’t mean to…” He turns, unable to handle the loud silence streaming from your bones. Voice shaken, he flounders, “I don’t know. I’ve—”

When he pauses, it’s to keep his lips from shaking. You just know it.

“I’ve regretted it every day since.”

“Bullshit.”

“I have!”

“Really. So all those texts you never sent were full of regret, too, huh?”

“No, I—”

“All those calls you never made.”

“I wanted to call!”

“You wanted nothing to do with me!”

“No! That’s not true—”

“Liar!”

He digs palms into the soaking divots of his face, tense at all angles and making you so, so angry that this is what the both of you have come to.

“I’m not lying!”

“You are!”

You thought it would feel better seeing him cry.

But it’s not, it’s not, it’s not. You hate this.

Because Jungkook made sure your tears were short-lived. Made sure to chase them away every single time—

There’s a rapid twist of your locked doorknob before you hear a shout,

“What the hell’s going on in there!”

Shit, your brother. Were you both yelling?

…Were you both that loud?

“We’re fine!” you shout back, embarrassed that your fight somehow managed to outperform the aux. “It’s okay.”

“Open up.”

“No.”

“You better be serious—”

“Promise!” You spare a look at your door. “We’re okay.”

“…Okay.”

Even though it’s completely silent.

You know damn well he hasn’t left.

Fuck, he can’t hear the rest of this. He shouldn’t have heard any of it in the first place, and you can feel the sear of his questions flaring up later tonight.

Which, you are fine answering when it’s just the two of you. But you cannot have anyone hovering right now so you go to rip the door open and tell him off,

“Dude, I said I’m—”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi’s right there with him.

And your heart fucking lurches.

tbc. :’)))

ahh how do we feel !! 💌 would you like to buy me a 🍊?

A/N: soooooo here you go before i continue with the rest of vacay!! LMAOO wouldn’t it be so funny if the whole chapter drops by surprise like y’all are wanting it to? just like this? wild.... A/N 2: always always gonna thank everyone that’s reading and supporting the series! there’s gonna be a lot happening in this chapter just like forfeit, so note-taking or bulletpoint format while reading might be a thing again if you wanna be able to remember things.. ahaha. pls give me strength bc i need it T^T ++ more links: ⇥ three tangerines masterlist ⇥ 18+ only taglist! ⇥ masterlist

#ehehehehhehhheh #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts fic #yoongi fic #three tangerines #bts fanfic #yoongi angst #*latest #ryenwrites #teasers #3tan10 #yoongi smut #yoongi #btshoneyhive

786 notes · View notes

thursdaygxrls · 4 months

Text

thin ice — four

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary — kitty is yet again dragged to a social gathering she would rather not attend. the bait this time? weed!

paring — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!(journalist)!reader

disclaimer — who is expecting me to own peter parker by now?? bc i don’t

warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty,’ weed, slightly inexperienced reader (experienced peter, no smut yet im sorry), possible ooc

Days like these were the ones Kitty craved: hazy, chilly spring weather that resembled fall, except that dying leaves were replaced by cherry-red buds, and flowers bloomed through blades of grass. It was one of those days with no responsibilities to fill her precious hours—the ones that were spent scrolling through Pinterest and reading. She was stretched haphazardly along her bed, still dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt with holes in the armpits. The blinds were still closed, so the sudden beam of light next to her startled her.

“You love interrupting my dark-dwelling time,” she hissed as MJ entered the room. Sticking out her tongue, MJ closed the door behind her and sealed off the obnoxious light, much to Kitty’s relief.

“I’m sorry, my sun-hating princess,” MJ spoke dramatically as she rummaged through her bag, “But, I come bearing gifts.”

At this, Kitty perked up, swiping out of Project Makeover and sitting up to devote her full attention to her roomate. From her bag, MJ produced two plastic-wrapped chocolate-chip cookies and tossed them to bed. The girl pounced on them, immediately tearing into the plastic on one of the packs.

“I forgive you,” she said before biting into the treat.

“Thank God,” MJ replied in dramatic relief. Ease settled over the room as MJ removed her jacket and went about unpacking her things. Kitty, now finished with her first cookie, tossed the used plastic to the trash can across the room (and missed horribly).

“What’ve you been up to this lovely Friday?” She asked her freckled friend, who was currently changing out of her cable knit sweater.

“Oh, you know, class,” MJ responded as she slid a Stevie Nicks shirt over her head, “Some people still have class on Fridays.”

“That must be heartbreaking,” Kitty hummed sarcastically, “Anything else?”

“Oh, yeah,” MJ’s movements were smooth as she went through her bag, “I had lunch with Harry after class.”

“Was the dining hall romantic?” Kitty questioned with a smile.

“Totally,” MJ responded with a laugh, “The black-bean burgers are basically aphrodisiacs. Anyways, he invited us out to Hot Rock around eight, so I was thinking we could get dinner–”

“No, thanks,” Kitty intercepted, bringing her legs up closer to her torso and flattening her lips to a line, “I’m not leaving the dorm today.”

“If you had it your way, you’d do that every day,” MJ groaned.

“And?’ Kitty quirked a brow, causing another grumble to leave her counterpart.

“Do you realize how much I say ‘no’ to stuff?” She continued, “‘Kitty, wanna go to a hockey game?’ No. ‘Kitty, wanna go to a frat party?’ No. Our entire relationship exists on the basis of you wanting to do stuff and me trying to refuse.”

“But you still went,” MJ raised her brows hopefully, “To both things. And it’s not like it’s just going to be Harry, he said some other people would be there.”

“Oh, great, other people, you know how much I love social gatherings where I don’t know anyone.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“You know Peter,” MJ suggested. Kitty hadn’t seen Peter in a while. ‘A while,’ in her case, was a week. She’d gotten some semi-regular texts from him (cat memes and open invites to hang out) but hadn’t seen him since the frat party.

“Is it the best use of their time to be at Hot Rock when the semi-finals are two days away?” Kitty asked.

“No, probably not, but,” MJ’s smile, which had been dimming, came back with full vibrance, “But we can reap the benefits of their deviant behavior.”

“Are the benefits better than chocolate chip cookies?” She hummed.

“Pre-rolls and a bong,” MJ wiggled her fingers in a tamer version of jazz hands. Kitty seemed to deflate with a loud sigh.

“I hate that you make me do things.”

Hot Rock existed on the older, suburban side of campus. Right behind one of the major dining halls was a small, hidden space that hit the blind spot of the security cameras in the area. It wasn’t a rock so much as an artificial slab of stone with a metal pipe attached that spewed hot steam. It was connected to the heating system in the dining hall, but also served as a popular spot for stoners. A few of these man-made smoke spots were scattered around campus, but this one was the most popular, mainly because this rock was always much hotter than the others.

Kitty’s breath appeared in small puffs in the night air and she and MJ walked around the corner of the dining hall. It was spring, and the weather was getting warmer, but there was still a bit of frost. As they shuffled down a small slope, the rock revealed itself, decorated with about four people, one of them being Harry.

“MJ!” He nearly fell over himself scrambling towards the pair. He pressed a small kiss to her lips and wrapped an arm around her in greeting. MJ giggled, choosing to ignore Kitty’s gagging face.

“Kitty-cat!” Harry directed his grinning face to her, “I’m so glad MJ got you out of your tree.”

“I almost wish you’d just call me ‘bitch’ instead of that,” she replied. Harry, not losing any vigor, laughed.

“I know what you need.” He wagged his brows as he reached into the breast pocket of his flannel. He produced a mini pre-rolled joint with a proud grin, “Kitty needs her catnip.”

“I’m gonna let that one slide,” she said, and he simply chuckled. His eyes moved from hers, and somehow his impossibly bright smile widened. Kitty turned and was met with a familiar pair of hazel eyes.

“I’m a big fan of catnip, too,” Peter grinned, sliding down to meet the rest of the group.

“Hey, Peter,” Harry let go of MJ for a moment to give Peter a half-hug. Peter’s eyes, however, never let go of Kitty. He held her gaze with ease.

“Can we sit? My ass is cold,” MJ grumbled lightly as Harry took his post next to her.

“Of course, of course,” was Harry’s hurried reply. The four found spots on the rock, Harry returning to his original spot and taking MJ with him. Kitty settled in a small nook where the slab met a natural rock formation, and, as if she was a magnetic pole, Peter sat next to her. A few awkward introductions were shared with the others at the rock, though, it was clear they were all at least a few hits into Harry’s pre-rolls.

“So,” Peter’s voice cracked through the silence, “We keep finding each other, don’t we?”

“You keep finding me,” Kitty corrected.

“Same difference,” he shrugged. Wordlessly, he slipped his backpack from his shoulder and set it down in front of him. He worked in surprising order as he removed the items: a grinder, a small, rolled-up plastic bag, a green bong that had seen better days.

“Are student athletes supposed to be smoking?” She asked. For once, his gaze wasn’t focused on her, but on the contents before him.

“Helps with nerves,” he said, grabbing the baggy, “It’s medical, y’know.”

“Hm, I bet,” she replied. He worked with diligence: his long, slender fingers plucked a chunk of bud from the bag and trapped it in the grinder. The sleeves of his black long sleeve were rolled up, revealing his wrist that tensed lightly when he ground the bud. She’d never quite noticed how strong his hands looked—veiny and taught, likely from the hours upon hours of hockey practice. Then came the realization that she was staring, which pulled her attention away from him and to the others on the rock. Though there weren’t many people, pockets of conversation were created: MJ and Harry, who were cuddled up and passing a joint, two other members of the hockey team and a girl with shaggy blonde hair, and, of course, her and Peter.

“Alright,” Peter hummed in satisfaction as he packed the bowl. He grabbed a red lighter from the front pocket of his jeans and finally looked at Kitty. He held the bong out for her with one of those easy, boyish smiles, “Wanna do the honors, Y/n?”

Peter seemed to be good at evoking emotions from her. Annoyance, frustration, confusion, and now, prickly embarrassment. She licked her lips, looking from the bong and back to him.

“Um,” she let out a small cough, “I’m…not sure how to?”

She wasn’t new to smoking. There was the occasional joint she and MJ would indulge in, or maybe she would take a hit off cart at one of the parties she was dragged to. She’d just hadn’t gotten the chance to hit a bong before—a fact that didn’t bother her until she was here, staring at Peter. She hated her reply and the way she stumbled with her words. She hated that she had nothing better to say. She hated that she had released blood into the water.

“You haven’t done this before?” He grinned. Her jaw clenched at the way he said that. Kitty, in response, sucked her teeth.

“Have you never smoked before?” He cocked his head.

“No, I have, just not this,” she sighed, a slight aggravated clip to her words. Peter must’ve noticed because his gloating grin softened.

“That’s alright,” his voice was more mellow now, “That’s okay, everyone has a first time.”

This persona, the calmer one he adapted when he knew she was getting pissed off, may have pissed her off even more. If he wasn’t being an asshole, it was harder to be annoyed with him, which made her annoyed with him, which made her annoyed with herself.

“Okay,” she said, a cleansing breath of chilled spring air filling her lungs.

“Okay?” He repeated, “You want to try?”

Kitty glanced at MJ and Harry. They weren’t doing anything graphic, but they were still all over each other, giggling and whispering. She turned back to Peter and nodded.

“You sure?” He raised a brow.

“Gimme,” she groaned, taking the glass bong from his hands. He let out a small, breathy chuckle and nodded.

“Okay, so,” he sat up, “I’m gonna light it, you breathe in through the mouth right here. I’ll pull the bowl for you and you keep breathing in, okay?”

Kitty nodded, her lips descending on the mouthpiece. A sudden flash of panic struck her as he flicked the lighter. Did she look stupid? Was she being stupid? Why did she care? Peter lit the bowl, and she did as he said, sucking in a deep drag. The bong bubbled to life and milky smoke flooded the tube.

“Good, good,” Peter encouraged as he pulled the bowl, “Keep sucking in—there you go, just like that.”

She’d been doing fine until he’d spoken. His words, meant as innocent encouragement, sent blood rushing to her face. Her scalp burned as her head reared back and ragged coughs escaped her. Smoke left her lips in puffs, like dust being stirred from an old book. Peter patted her back with one hand and rummaged through his bag with another.

“That happens,” he spoke, unphased by her continuous coughing. He took a metal water bottle decorated in stickers in various states of wear from his bag and unscrewed the lid.

“Here, drink,” he brought it to her lips and she immediately sucked down the water. It was cold against her burning throat. She focused on how cool it was, hoping it would also subdue the burning in her face. A few gulps later, Kitty was back to a semi-normal state. She took in deep breaths, swirling in oxygen with the cannabis in her lungs.

“That was a big-ass hit. Good job,” Peter chuckled, “When was the last time you smoked?”

“I don’t know, a few weeks ago? And thank you,” Kitty replied. There wasn’t a hint of snark in her words, which was highly unusual. The afterburn of her influx of new feelings was still there.

“That oughta do it,” he took the bong from her, “I mean, you can totally have more, but your tolerance is probably pretty low, and the hit you just took looked more like three.”

“Yeah, that oughta do it,” she coughed out. He eyed her, suspicious of her lack of sass, before lighting the bowl for himself.

The bong caught up with her within ten minutes. There was a low vibration in her body, one that pulsed in her fingertips and warmed her. Her vision was a bit more narrow now, like she was viewing movie through her vision. Her mind bubbled, and when her eyes caught a glimpse of the sky, she leaned back with astonished glee.

It wasn’t often that you saw stars in the sky on this side of New York. Usually, the city lights blocked out anything non-artificial. But here, a mile or so away from the more prominent lights, she was able to see the glimmer of distant stars. It was captivating, really, and she could’ve stared at them for hours. Maybe she did. People buzzed around her without her recognition. Even Peter seemed to settle into a comfortable silence next to her.

“Do you remember that one episode of Hannah Montana where Miley moves into a new house and there’s a pizza oven? Like, one of those wood ovens you put pizza in. A pizza oven? Yeah?” She asked, glancing in Peter’s direction. He seemed to only slightly register the question before looking at her with a cocked brow.

“No,” he replied.

“Oh,” she hummed, “What about the one where—it’s the third episode, I think—the one where Oliver—no, it’s the second episode—the one where Oliver is in love with Hannah Montana, but he doesn’t know it’s Miley, so Miley and Lilly are like ‘oh, no!’”

“No,” he repeated. His voice wasn’t harsh, though. It was soft, maybe even curious.

“It’s good,” she said, “Real good. Real good.”

It was around then that the stars began to lull her to sleep. There was something comfortable about this moment: the heat of the rock, the stars, the weed in her system. She drifted off for a moment and was quickly awoken by a gentle shake.

“Y/n?” Peter called lightly, “Are you sleepy?”

His hand was on her arm. His hand was on her arm. Her eyes settled on that before she could even begin to process his words. His hand was lovely, truly, with its web of veins, the slender fingers that warmed her skin. She looked up to him and smiled.

“Hey!” Was her cheery reply. He laughed at this and nodded. Kitty cocooned inside herself once more as he turned away and called out to someone on the other side of the rock. She heard Harry, then MJ, then Peter again. It sounded like hearing a foreign language as the spoke.

“Would you like to sleep in your bed instead of this rock?” Peter asked. Kitty, still cocooned, sprung forward a bit.

“Yes,” she responded confidently. He couldn’t help but smile at her tone. He packed away his bag swiftly and stood, offering a hand to Kitty.

“You think I can’t stand up? Oh, I can stand up—I’m an olympic stander,” she mumbled, rejecting his hand. This side of her was something Peter had never experienced. He was used to snippy comments and sharp replies, but the inebriated, bumbling Kitty was an entirely different person. He liked it. A lot.

They began their trek back to Kitty’s dorm in silence. It was comfortable like this: quiet interrupted by the occasional off-key hum by the girl. It wasn’t a very far walk, only five minutes or so, and when they reached the front, Peter’s tight grin loosened a bit.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” he said, his hand gently catching her arm. In this state, she wasn’t able to deny the electric current that was sent through her nervous system. Kitty shivered as she met his eyes.

“I know you’re not in the right headspace for this, so I’ll ask you again later, but…” he trailed off. He looked away from her, and she caught the way his throat bobbed slightly. This lasted for only a moment before he was making eye contact again, “Do you wanna come to semis?”

That wasn’t the question she expected. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Instead of responding, she stared blankly at him.

“It’s not here, it’s actually kind of far away,” he was rambling now, “Well, not super far, it’s in New Jersey. It’s sort of late notice, so I know you might not want to go, and you have your own shit to worry about, too, so—”

“This is very weird,” Kitty interrupted.

“What?” Peter stopped, looking to her with a quirked brow.

“You’re acting nervous and talking a lot. Weird,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I am nervous, and I’m a little high, and you’re really hot, so there’s just a lot going on up here.” He gestured to his head. Her eyes were blank for several seconds before they sparked in recognition.

“Oh—oh.” Her expression changed rapidly, eventually landing on something akin to realization. Silence swelled between them for a moment before it was broken by one word: “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Peter repeated.

“Maybe,” she nodded in agreement. His lips tugged into a boyish smile once more.

“Okay, Y/n,” he grinned, “Maybe.”

a/n — (in the voice of that one meme) heyy….how y’all doin??? okay so im sorry that this update is months late, college has been a lot. it’s been fun tho!! like, i think im the happiest ive ever been. anyways, im sorry if this update doesn’t fit as well with the others, im trying to get back into the groove of writing, forgive me 🙏 love u guys!!

taglist

@reidslovely @awezomezauce @tarzinnia @fr3akho3 @multilovebot @collywobbl @naok-iyuu @kay-i-guess @littlexscarletxwitch @ujimoo

218 notes · View notes

twistedchatterbox · 1 year

Text

“i was less before i loved you”

Summary: Love changes people in a way that can't be undone, for better or worse. And for some, they would never want it any other way.

ft. Riddle, Jack, Jade, Floyd, Azul, Vil, Idia Tags. Fluff, Lovesick Boys, GN-ish reader, Queen is a gender neutral term, Slice of Life, Pre-established & Established Relationships, Character Development in the Name of Love, Jealousy(the cute kind), Possessiveness(the hot kind), Heartslabyul is in shambles(comedy), Jack’s part has some OC elements, Jade’s part is written for me, Author! Reader for Vil's part (Neige is your biggest fan), Cheeky proposals(Vil), I need this kind of love in my life-

wordcount: 4615+ | Masterlist & Taglist

With a smile on his face, the young dormwarden let out a sigh he hadn’t even realised he was holding; in his hand was his phone, screensaver was the picture of you and him on your 6th month anniversary where you two were cuddled up together and admiring the view, you the sight, and him admiring you. The redheaded boy never thought he could look that happy, soft, or carefree; expected to be cool, calm and ever-serious, not allowed to be anything a child normally could be, he never thought those were things that felt.. nice. He would often feel disgust, thinking he was “above” the things he was told to be childish, immature. Yet now, that could not be further from the truth or the life he lives.

Riddle admires the charm dangling by his phone, a pair of crowns, modelled after the king and queen of hearts, cute, he thought, resting his head on his idle palm. He thinks back to the date, and the way you reacted when you saw his screensaver the next day, feeling his face bloom in a lovesick flush. Aware of how hopeless he looks, yet not caring one bit, he allows himself to daydream. Scrolling through his phone gallery of your dates, colorful. Oldest to newest, he could tell the difference, only ever allowed in the library as kids, and sticking by that decision half the time, the ticking of years can be distinguished easily as color enters the frame slowly, his childhood photographs, long deleted by him, fading into reds as he took you to a walk on the Heartslabyul maze on your first year on NRC together; blues in the fine china of the cup you held, yellow accents of the tea party preparations. Yet it’s overwhelmed by red, only fading out into a canvas of everything when the gallery of his second year starts, flower garden dates with all the color the sun could grace being merely the start. The cooking courses, school events, camps, everything, it paints a picture that feels so carefree, yet even then, he only finds himself softly gazing at you, unaware of the way he occasionally giggles and squints his eyes; pried of his trip down the memory lane by the sound of a message, he sighs and straightens his posture, not sure when or how he leaned down so much. And checking the source, he fondly shakes his head in a way that can only be interpreted as ‘for you, i could’. “Can we watch the stars from your room today?” it was you, and who was he to deny you? He may have been many things, but for you, he couldn’t claim to be strict. Not by that much, anyway. Riddle is, contrary to what most expect, a very indulgent boyfriend. “Sure” He replied back, not overthinking it. Finding it hard not to grin when you send a whole array of hearts and then some more his way. Your contact name, he found himself admiring again, “The Queen’s Most Beautiful Rose”, and he wondered, would you mind it if he changed to ‘the queen of my heart’ ? As his equal, he reigned no rule over you, yet you held such a perfect, lovely grip over his own heart- it wasn’t like it truly belonged to him when it beat for you, anyway. And he would never have it any other way, “long live the queen of my heart…” Riddle whispered to himself. Getting up quickly and excusing himself wordlessly, he leaves behind confused dorm-mates as he heads straight to his room, he’d have to recheck if he had his favourite sweater clean, knowing your habit of stealing it very well. A fond grin found itself home on his face and he had no intention to hide it, deciding to instead be punctual with his preparations so that the room you two shared was ready for your whimsical plans. He hoped with all his heart, that his habits could aid him in conveying his love for you. Long live the queen, he chuckled mentally.

Jack found himself daydreaming again; this was happening far too often for his liking, yet it wasn’t like he could do too much about it. You, the love of his life, how could he stop thinking about that? He simply didn’t like the taste it left in his mouth, it felt.. less. Like something vital was missing, something that made his head and heart hurt. So he simply did his best to keep up and hope his daydreams didn’t cost him too much. Lately he found himself thinking about rings, bracelets and anything matching, subtle- yes, it was because you mentioned how you wanted to get something matching but wasn’t sure he would like it, so you made him some things he’d like better; last valentines day, thinking about it made his ears flatten, drooping in a saddened motion. It wasn’t your fault, no, it was just his disappointment in himself, did he make you think that you could make him upset by showing affection one way or another? Was he too guarded? Maybe. He’d have to work on it, and that thought struck him out of his daydream- once again- as he silently scowled at his hopelessness; you could not hear his daydreams, what the hell was wrong with him? Upset by himself and determined to do something about it, he grabbed his cellphone, homework could wait for once. Jack wondered, what could he do? Opening his notes app, going through the dates he heard about, places he heard of, things you told him about, he thought maybe, just maybe, a date to the cafe could work? He disliked the one on campus grounds and many of the ones on the island because of the loud or off-pitched music that blasted inside 25/8 the establishments, but if he could find a quiet, nice place, he could take you there. Though, that’d take much time and Jack wanted to see if he could do something sooner, if he could. He did not want to keep you waiting, even if you’d always reassure him good things were worth waiting for, sometimes going as far to say you’d wait your whole life and then some for him if he wanted it. The memory rang clear in his head and lifted tension off his head, cleaning his thoughts like rain, making him breathe, closing his eyes. You recently switched dorms, Heartslabyul to Pomefiore, a change of mindset being the reason, and quite frankly he admired how you acted upon your feelings so quickly. “Time would pass anyway, i didn’t wanna waste it” was what you said, “I know my body- I know my heart, and I knew what I wanted to do.” you murmured, adding on a mumble about how you were sorry if it sounded cheesy. He reassured you that it couldn’t be further from it. And it only fueled him to act thinking about it- wondering, if you needed anything, maybe he could spend the night with you? You always mentioned how you wish you could stay with him in his dorm or have him stay in yours but Heartslabyul was loud and cramped, while Savannaclaw wasn’t known for being welcoming or friendly. Though Pomefiore could work, it was relatively quiet and known for being polite to visitors; especially those on good terms. The wolf beastman looked at his phone, your contact, “Love of my life” made him smile, a picture of you smiling, one he took impulsively; and he asked, “Can I come over?” waiting, wondering if he should elaborate- yet, your answer, barely a few moments later washes over him with relief, “ofc!!!” . If anyone asked, he was coming over to help you move in; no one had to know about the matching bracelets in his bag, that he had been holding onto this entire week.

Jade was used to working on his own, often being the voice of reason, watching from the shadows and generally being a figure that many viewed as someone that could always be reliable if he wanted to be. Though, you coming into the picture always skewed the tides, changing the dynamic, pulling him off this pedestal and making him so much more.. human. In a way that he wasn’t exactly perceived as before, sure most were aware he was not the second coming of the great seven or anything grand, but he was not really seen or considered as someone so affected by feelings. Calm cool , collected and ever calculating, that was it. And even if most missed, his twin and childhood bestfriend couldn’t miss the way he has always had the habit of catering to you, the most to you in any way he ever was. Ever since you had crossed paths before starting life on campus, he had the habit of being a whole lot more different. Different in the way that if others had a feeling or could speculate this or that of him, you could see it for yourself, if you asked him he would never lie; unless it was for your own good, and if it was he would say he can’t tell you yet while trying to find a way to remedy it. Though, you never pried, if it was something that stressed you out, you’d only ask for his time; he was always thankful to comply, and his twin never complained either, saying he can handle himself fine, or that you can call for help if Jade tried to turn you into a mushroom or something. It’d make you laugh, while Jade, pouting one moment and scowling the other, gestured for his twin to leave. Then, there was his first year; the never discussed time-frame of which he adapted a far more sharp, delinquent-like look. It was entertaining for a while, though what surprised even his closest confidants at the time was how Jade did not get tired of that wardrobe for a while, having fun with it for as long as you did. He truly relished in the way his looks and demeanour left you breathless, or the way his advances could make you gasp if he played his cards right; he intended to play those sounds like an instrument, he told you so at some point, yet he knew that you could play his heart to your own heart’s content. Of course, as things changed, he’d adapt, as time passed his style blended into something a lot more sleek and butler-like, while your relationship became a lot more romantic, established. Though he made sure to keep your favourite piercings and earrings in mind, never opposed to putting those on again to give your heart a shock. Which was the exact reason why he was now in front of his room’s bathroom mirror at 5am, an empty mug of coffee waiting until he was done with his cosmetic changes. Jade, even though less impulsive than his twin, was still impulsive at times. So, here he was, giving himself a haircut, deciding to go for a faintly messy low-cut while leaving the front bit of his hair mostly unchanged. Settling for just slicking his hair back, and tucking the black locks of hair behind his ear. He remembered how you suggested a mix of his prior hair style and some things, mentioning how those might look quite ‘hot’ for the lack of a better word if he mixed it in with his current wardrobe; and, he had to agree. And he hoped you would too, rolling up his sleeves, opting for thinner black gloves and putting on some rings on his fingers. Leaving his room quickly after downing some coffee, he headed straight to yours, within the same dorm, barely a few steps away from his. Jade knew you would take kindly to his surprise visit; it happened far too often for you to be shocked by that, maybe the sudden change could, he mused with a chuckle.

Floyd wasn’t exactly sure if he hung around you because you were fun or if you were fun because he was hopelessly in love with you; not that he cared too much about the answer. One way or another, this was what he got, and he would not change it for anything. Sure, some things would change, but what you had between you two wouldn’t. Not in a way that didn’t fit; and he was confident in that. It was odd, to view Floyd Leech, the fun-chasing, mood swinging twin to be.. this. Committed. Serious, dedicated to one thing let alone one person, but here you were; and boyy was he committed. Despite the whispers in the hallway, you’d open your arms open for him to pick you up and spin you, even on days you felt off, you’d ask for a hug, and he’d always indulge you. If he had to ask himself how much of it was for you or him, he wouldn’t miss a beat, saying “if it’s for my sea urchin, it’s for me too” because that is truly how he sees it; if it matters to you, him too, if it’s your happiness then that’s his too, and even when he cannot share or truly understand your pain he wants to do the right thing in a way that matters to you, for you. Loving Floyd simply shows you a side of him no one else really can see, he’s present and always in your mind, but he’s never overwhelming. He frequently checks up on you randomly, as if he has a built in love-fueled gps to find you or some red string of fate only he can see- though, you swear you might begin to see it too day by day- and he never really explains it, not beyond making sure you are safe. And while you are not an immediate mood fix for reasons others expect, you surely always make him feel better; because you stick around but you don’t suffocate, letting him hold you is more than enough but you not only meet him halfway, but go above and beyond too. Even if you don’t realise, your ever-willing nature to meet him halfway or go wherever with him is so, so precious. Whether it be 3am bubble baths or dancing in the rain or making out somewhere hidden in the library during the class hours, you are right there with him and his whims. It doesn’t shock him when his thoughts begin to revolve more and more around you, he has his fun with it, it makes him feel ecstatic, sometimes he thinks of you and then his lovesick mind derails the image to your lips and he just has to kiss you; resulting in you being in his arms, back against the wall, red lips, gasping and not sure just what came across him now, and he always says “i just thought of you-” “-and i had to kiss you”. Well, it surely explains his blown pupils and satisfied grin, though he could use some more kisses, do you mind? Thank you~ He chuckles, intending to pay you back for your generosity tenfold, and then you know -you already knew- that you’ll be there for a long while. Well, class could go fuck itself anyway, you have a lovesick eel who is in dire need of your affection and just won’t let go. Not that you mind… Days come and go, and with Floyd you know none of them are ever wasted, really. You have installed a change of heart in him and it has given him such addictive jolts of new life. Now, I hope you intend to keep him because he is thoroughly obsessed in love with you in the best of ways.

Azul once again found himself going over his schedule, clearing some time for you; you who always stuck around with him even on slow and boring days or the busy days where he never dedicated enough attention to you- He knew you understood how much his business and work meant to him, yes, but he also knew the whispers in the halls about how you were second place and how he was definitely married to his job before you, and he hated it. Azul knew you had to hear these basically everyday or every other day, and it made him wanna do a multitude of things, all of them being stupid, pointless, or not good enough, as none of them solved the issue on any level. Nor would they make you happier, and he had gone through many of those in his head; he knew you didn’t need him to act revenge, after all, that would be counter-productive. He would just spend more time away from you, and what would that get him? After a thorough scolding of love advice from his 3rd executive, who verbally smacked him in the head by bluntly letting him know that his plans would just make him a negligent lover who, albeit accidentally, still somehow decided spending more time away from you while working would solve things. In the end, Azul decided that only one thing was the right choice; making proper time for you. Just you and him, no work, no nothing. So, here was the young dormwarden, planning lunchtime walks and dinner plans for two, asking you if you’d like to spend the nights with him in his room instead, wondering if he should consider taking the next step by maybe hugging you in his merform? Well- The thought was quite ambitious, and he didn’t want to rush that, so he decided to just write it down as a beach picnic. Hoping with all three hearts and crossing his fingers that nothing goes wrong, as he really, desperately wanted to treat you right and make up for the wasted time not spent together. Every day, every exchange, simply knocked the thought more in place; he had been depriving not only you but himself of something so special, the chance to make memories. He found himself more determined than ever to hone his skills so that he could do all that he needed to more efficiently; it’d make it easier for more time together rather than you ‘third wheeling Azul and his contracts’ as Floyd put it. Seriously, these were his childhood friends and suddenly they are acting so salty in your stead?- Well, he supposed he very well earnt it. And now, he would spend what he earnt with you. This became a part of his every day, now, he would properly calculate his time with you alongside his work; because time is time,money is money, and he cannot get back time even if he can wrack his brain for more cash profit any other day. The time he has, he wants to spend so much of it with you, if he you’ll let him, and of course, you do. Azul found himself clinging more and more with every day, not sure what else he could have been expecting- Truly, it should not have shocked him of all people, for an octopus to be clingy is the most predictable of all outcomes. Sure, he took his time, but this development was simply inevitable, not to say you were any less clingy than him; you two were together, more often than not, your arm in his as he treated you like a gentleman in public, and indulged you like the awe-struck, ever-loving boyfriend he is behind closed doors.

Vil Schoenheit and scandal should not belong together in a sentence. Not in his manager’s’ worst nightmares; fuck no, oh hell no. But truly, some days he cannot afford to give a damn, after all, he has an engagement ring ready for you two’s graduation night already, if he’s already committed with a promise ring already, then you can very much be with him under public light as well. Though some people surely do make him wanna keep you under wraps or just straight up wrap YOU up in caution tape with the words “committed lover of Vil Schoenheit” on it already! Honestly, he just might. He just fucking might one of these damn days. Vil sits down on your shared bed, arms crossed and with a glare that could surely kill somebody; somebody name Neige-fucking-Leblance. Does he NOT get the memo? You have promise rings and introduce yourselves as soulmates at this point! Does he actually have to go through with the most ridiculous idea and make the fashion statement of the century with fucking caution tape?! And then you laugh, suddenly cutting off the memory of his thought process from what feels like a few hours worth of seething rage. Seeing the sunflowers in your arms still makes him scowl but your laugh simply makes him confused, and faintly offended in some ridiculously specific genre. What was so good about sunflowers anyway? He would get you red Sage Flowers, red Tulips, Primroses, Marigolds- And perhaps he should, Vil decides. Then you gather your breath, telling him that this was Neige’s letter about your latest nomination for creative stage-writing; since you have begun adapting books into proper scripts recently, apparently one of your most recognised adaptations as of lately was one of his favourite fairy tales from childhood. The guiding star of your nightsky then remarks how Neige says that too often, you reply with a shrug and ask if he wants to make a guess which ones; Vil decides he likes that one, starting a tangent that almost sounds like a detailed thesis, making you joke about how he might think of Neige more than you. Vil shakes his head curtly, saying his love for you outweighs his distaste for the most annoying person in his world. “How charming~” you joke, letting the conversation get back on track, and talk about how so many people you never expected to end up sending you mail. “Ah, didn’t think that he was a fan of mine of all people, guess the world is a small place” You wheeze out, and Vil snarls, “Yes, dearest, quite small that it feels cramped.” making you roll your eyes before you lean to his side, pressing a kiss to his cheek, making his gaze soften- somewhat. He then sighs, deciding to dig through some videos he has queued up on his sagetube page; he has wanted to learn some new recipes lately, and this could just be the best timing to look through those, humming to himself with the voice of an angel and the looks that could seduce god, you steal a glance in his direction to admire your long-term boyfriend, wondering just how did you get so lucky? One minute he could raise hell, only to then sing like an angel the next moment. Truly, this might as well be Vil Schoenheit’s world, and everyone else was renting it; you like to say it to banter, but some moments like now, you find yourself believing it. The range of his expressiveness has always been endearing to you, if only he didn’t have to limit himself, you think to yourself sometimes; returning to reading through fan letters, and a smug look makes it’s way to Vil’s face as he sees you picked up his one too, good. He wouldn’t want his proposal to wait too long, that ring in the ‘fanmail’ will surely gain him your most beautiful reaction.

Idia Shroud, willingly stepping out into sunlight, subjecting himself to grass? More likely than you think. He laughed at the thought, not displeased by the slightest. Now, actually getting himself ready to face the sun was a whole other topic than you, honestly; the outside world scared the fuck out of him, you were the opposite. It was like a juxtaposition that made his brain hurt and heart twist, making him blue screen in all senses. But he was working on it. Closing his eyes and thinking of your previous dates when things went okay. Reminding himself that even if he fucked up a little, you’d just roll with it or help him out– it’s hard to crack you, he should know by now. And he knows, which is why he’s doing his hell-bent best to beat it into his stubborn insecurities. His calm breathing exercise soon ends, a little sooner than he’d like and luckily the thing that catches his eyes is the phone charm resting on his desk. He gazes softly at it, reaching out and deciding to attach it to his phone. Idia knows it’s silly, but you must’ve been too given, y’know, you gifted this to him. So he doesn’t mind. A charm of a skull and a small will-o-wisp, you said how it reminded you of him and Ortho, to which his brother was ecstatic about; starting a small obsession over the symbolisms, and you indulged that, often telling him quick tad-bits, sure his little brother had the literal internet at his disposal but neither of them ever used it for that topic. They preferred hearing it from you, it was objectively better. Special. And then he thought over his favourite kind of dates, the type he was getting ready for; a nightly walk, whenever you two went out for this, Ortho would escort you to the dorm and Idia would take the wheel from there. It always has- and maybe will- make him anxious, but he will continue trying even when the nerves get to him, sometimes you two returned early- but it didn’t stay that way. Idia would hold your wrist strongly and say ‘wait’, getting up in a minute of half an hour, to try again. Sure he was an emotional wreck, but he was worse than his ‘stupid emotions’ as he put it; meaning he was too stubborn and spiteful against himself. Hey, at least it works. Sometimes he wondered, how were you so patient? And then he would remember, the way you asked why Hades waited for spring too; the way he would always diligently wait for his wife to return back to his side. And before he could get flustered over the comparison, you added even more; “You already wait for me in your room like him; and I know you would wait for me if things were reversed too, I can't keep you waiting for too long, can I?” ..haa, damn be cheesiness, he straight up said “I’d wait seasons for you too,”. To be fair, limited time chances like that cannot be wasted; and your reaction was absolutely priceless. Though, it’s been running tracks in his head and heart ever since. Seasons, patience, due diligence. Idia wouldn’t consider himself to be unrealistically cheesy, he doesn’t know what exists beyond death’s door- damned be the irony- let alone the next life, spring. But he knows that in this life, he would wait seasons for your return. He can vow to love you for the entirety of this life, his life. ..Hm, maybe he could take a few other pages from the Greek legends, since you two already have the shared hobby of bingeing everything to do with them. Definitely no library date yet, though, hells no. It’s probably gonna take years for him to even do these night time walks often enough for him to be considered “normal” but really, for the first time ever, Idia can say he doesn’t give a single fuck. As long as you are there for him that long and stay even after, he doesn’t give a fuck how long it takes or what it makes out of him.

970 notes · View notes

fishofthewoods · 9 days

Text

Oh my god I woke up this morning and my Stardew Valley meta post had almost 150 notes????? Hello?????????? Anyways I started writing this last night because @moon-is-pretty-tonight left nice tags on the original so thank you so much!!

We know from the starting scenes of the game that the farmer's grandfather loved Stardew Valley. So why did he leave? Pelican Town is a good place to grow old; George and Evelyn are just fine. It's a fine place to raise a kid, but maybe he just wanted to raise his child closer to real schools and other children.

Or maybe, just maybe, he understood.

Was there a day when he was in his thirties where he looked at his friends and realized they weren't like him? That he could run faster than them, work longer, explore deeper into the hidden places of the valley?

Was there a day when he went to the wizard to ask him for help, for knowledge if nothing else? Did he learn then that his family was different? Special? Chosen? And how did he react? He couldn't possibly raise a child in the valley if they would be as strange and fey as him. He had to leave. There was no other way.

But years later, on his deathbed, did he regret that choice?

Is that why he gave the farmer the letter?

Is that why they went back home?

When the farmer steps off the bus that first day, the valley is still on the cusp of winter, just barely tipping over into spring. The flowers are starting to bloom, but a chill still hangs in the air. As soon as the farmer's boots touch the soil there's a change. The air gets warmer. The trees get greener. Not by too much, not all at once, but it changes.

The junimos watch the farmer as they do their work. They're new to farming, but take to it with frightening speed; their first batch of crops is perfect. None of the townsfolk tell them that parsnips don't normally grow in less than a week, that cauliflowers don't grow to be ten feet tall, that fairies don't visit when the sun goes down and grow potatoes and beans and tulips overnight. The junimos talk amongst themselves in their strange, wild language, and agree: this is the one. They're back. The valley recognizes its own, even when they've left for a generation. The farmers have come home.

Things change fast in the valley. The community center, empty and decrepit for so many years, is rejuvenated. (Lewis says it was abandoned only a few weeks after the farmer's grandfather left. Strange coincidence, he says, that it both came and went with the farmer's family.) The mines and the quarry, similarly abandoned, are explored for the first time in ages. The town becomes cleaner, brighter, more vibrant, happier.

And it is happier. Not just the environment, but the people. It's the talk of the town for weeks when Haley does her first closet purge. Leah's art show in the town square is a huge success. Shane's smiling for the first time since he moved to the valley. All of them, when asked, say it's all thanks to the farmer.

People love to ask why Lewis didn't fix the community center on his own. Why Willy never repaired the boat to ginger island. Why Abigail or Marlon never went down to fix the elevator in the mines, or why Clint didn't fix the minecarts.

But isn't it so much more interesting to ask how those things were there in the first place? How they got so broken down? If the stories the townspeople tell are true, the valley was once a beautiful place, flourishing and full of life; why did that change? When did it change?

Was it when the farmer's grandfather, the locus of the valley, its chosen representative, left town?

And if so, what happens when the farmer comes back?

#lich says shit #stardew valley #stardew farmer #sdv #my writing #Hope y'all enjoyed!#I'm thinking about developing this into. Like. An actual Fan Fiction. Still sort of short-form but like with more detail?#LMK if you'd be interested to see that! Also if you want to be tagged in future installations of this please just let me know :)#I'm super into this version of the farmer as like. Blessed and cryptic child of the valley with all the strange behavior that entails #If i DO write a more in-depth version of this it'll be from the perspective of someone in town #maybe Leah? She seems like she'd be the one to notice the farmer being Odd. Either that or I'll do it from the perspective of multiple--#--different people to get their unique insights and stuff #I'd also want to dig into like #The family history of the farmer. And what that's like.#Because like why did grandpa leave?#He clearly loved the valley #So why didn't he stay?#Why did he give the deed to his grandchild and not his literal child?#And is it a coincidence that everything in the valley went downhill when he left?#I don't think so.

124 notes · View notes

just-come-baek · 2 years

Text

under the rose

Pairing: Joshua Hong x female!reader

Themes: 18+ smut | fluff | childhood frenemies to lovers!au | kinda historical!au (no specific time, but it’s not modern, like idk maybe 1950?)

Word count: 6k

Summary: You’ve known Joshua your entire life, and it has always irked you when he got praised for the same things you were scolded for. You hate these societal double standards thrown upon you almost as much as people who judge you for it. Thankfully, you have Joshua, who just gets you.

in other words...

They fuck on the blanket by the lake.

A/N idk what got into me

Although summer was officially gone, Mother Nature still spoilt people with sunny days and warm nights. Plants and trees all over the area were still in full bloom, letting the locals and tourists admire the beautiful landscapes.

The windows of your bedroom were facing the east. The bright rays of sunshine woke you up as soon as the sun rose over the crown of trees. With a smile, you stretched your limbs, happy to start your day.

Quickly, you opened the window, letting fresh air into your bedroom.

Enjoying the slight breeze, you walked over to your massive closet. You had no plans for today, nor you knew what to wear to celebrate this beautiful day. Too bad you weren’t allowed to leave the house in your satin sleeping gown. It was the most comfortable thing you owned. You didn’t give a fuck that men could find it scandalous or indecent.

You were always told not to provoke men as if it was your fault they couldn’t control themselves. It was incorrect reasoning, but for your mother’s sake, you decided not to speak your mind as openly as your heart desired. After all, these men weren’t ready to hear what the root of the problem was.

You tapped your chin in thought as you skimmed through your outfit choices, ultimately deciding to put on a cute summer dress that should appease your conservative mother. It was an A-frame white dress with little yellow flowers embroiled into the fabric. (Your mother insisted they were yellow roses, but to you, they looked more like daffodils.) It had cute tulip sleeves and a bodice – it didn’t offer a lot of support for your breasts, but at least it covered your nipples and fooled your mother into thinking you were wearing a bra underneath it. Carefully, you did the half-shank buttons that trailed up your sternum and tied a golden ribbon around your waist to accentuate your figure.

You looked like a prude, but despite all of that, you felt pretty.

Maybe a little bit of blush and lipstick could spice up your cute but upright look, you wondered as you rummaged through the drawer of your vanity. As it was officially autumn, so you decided to go with an orange palette, trying to match shades with your complexion.

Admittedly, it added a sexy edge to your overall look. Now, you only hoped your mother wouldn’t tell you to wash it off as it was inappropriate for such a virtuous young lady she thought you were.

You didn’t put much effort into your hair; you brushed out all of the tangles and put on a headband. That was it. The wind would ruin your hair anyway if you tried properly styling it.

“Good morning,” you said to your mother as you walked downstairs for breakfast. She was drinking her morning tea as she glanced at you, trying to find flaws in your appearance and expurgate them.

When she didn’t say anything to put you down, you figured you passed her censorship test today. Good, because you didn’t even try to anger her, you just wanted to enjoy yourself outside.

“Good morning, honey,” she said as you sat down by the table opposite of her. Smiling, you reached for the bread and spread raspberry jam over it. “Joshua came by earlier. He’s such a nice boy. He asked you to meet him by the lake. Of course, I said you’d join him,” she announced, and you nearly dropped your knife upon hearing his name.

Joshua Hong was your mother’s best friend’s son, and your mom sometimes (always) acted as if she loved him more than she did you. Whenever you had guests over, she would go out of her way to brief them on his whereabouts and eulogize him at every given chance.

Joshua always accompanies his mother to church. Joshua graduated at the top of his class. Joshua rescued a dozen of puppies from drowning.

You were sick and tired of her Joshua this, Joshua that. If only she knew what he was like when mothers couldn’t see him... You were basically the same age, so you hung out with him quite often throughout your childhood and adolescence. Although unwillingly, you knew him inside out, and he most definitely did not fit your mother’s description.

“Thank you,” you finally said, offering her an unconvincing smile. “I’m dying to see him. It’s been too long,” you added, your voice full of sarcasm (which your mother thankfully did not pick up on). Smiling, you stuffed your mouth with the toast as you wanted to be done with breakfast quickly. You could only stop yourself from giving mean comments for just a while, and you didn’t want to upset your mother with your point of view on Joshua’s behavior.

“It’s nice to see you so eager to see him,” she beamed, incorrectly reading your intentions.

“Right…” you said, pouring juice down your throat. “I should get going. It would be rude of me to keep him waiting,” you added with a fake smile spread across your face. Your mother must’ve found your considering tone a bit strange, but she ultimately decided to believe that you grew up.

“Joshua is such a gentleman. There are so few of them nowadays,” she carried on, and you rolled your eyes at her comment. Your mother could read people like a book, and you still didn’t know how Joshua managed to fool her.

Having sat on the bottom of the stairs, you put on your shoes, carefully tying the shoelaces.

“Wear the nice ones,” your mother commented as she picked up your everyday muddy shoe and threw them back onto the shoe rack. You didn’t want to argue with her, so you listened to her, knowing your feet were going to hate you in the evening. Maybe the pumps were pretty, but it wasn’t the footwear of your choice. It was impractical. Joshua was waiting for you by the lake. That’s about thirty minutes away on foot from your house.

“I shall be back for dinner,” you said, even though you were going to return much sooner. Even if Joshua wanted to see you and talk to you, it was one-sided. You’d just go there and tell him to go home and stop bothering you.

You loved being outside. As soon as you set foot on the porch, rays of sunshine hit your face, making you smile in content. Despite Joshua’s short visit and request, it was going to be a beautiful day.

Slowly, you strolled towards the lake, humming to yourself as you mentally tried to plan the rest of the day. You could pick some flowers for the vase that was sitting on your nightstand as the old bouquet of white camellias started to wither. Then, maybe you could go to the swing set and watch the sunset.

It sounded like a good idea.

You felt pain in your heels. Cursing under your breath, you hoped you didn’t get blisters.

Finally, you reached the lake. Joshua was waiting for you by the pier, holding a paddle. As much as you hated to admit it, he looked hot in his white shirt. Three top buttons were undone, showing a lot of his neck, collarbones and chest, while his sleeves were rolled up all the way to his elbows. His light brown trousers, black shoes, and matching suspenders looked great on him.

“Took you long enough, love,” Joshua greeted you, sending you a bright, genuine smile. “Don’t you look beautiful today,” he added, carefully studying you from head to toe. His sight was definitely better than your mother’s – Joshua instantly picked up on the absence of your bra, what made him shamelessly smirk.

“What do you want, Jisoo?” You asked, cocking up your eyebrow. You hated when he referred to you per love, so you also decided to rile him up by using his Korean name. You were the only one who had the balls to call him that – ever since childhood he hated it when people did that. “Your early visit got my mom unreasonably excited. I wouldn’t be too surprised if she already started planning our wedding,” you deadpanned.

“You should be happy. I’m quite a catch,” Joshua replied, smugly smiling at you.

“Ew,” you commented, turning your face in disgust. “You better talk to my mother and undo it. I wouldn’t marry you even if you were the last man on Earth,” you demanded, hating the way Joshua’s insignificant actions had huge impact on your life. You weren’t going to suffer the consequences of his shenanigans.

Instead of giving you a reply, Joshua sighed and shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head to the side.

“I meant no harm. I just wanted to ask you to come here and boat with me,” Joshua said, pointing at the small wooden boat tied to the post on the pier. “We used to do it a lot when we were children.”

You hummed, reminiscing. It really was your tradition. Every summer you could come here and have a lot of fun. Usually, one of you ended up in water, almost drowning. (Nine out of ten times it was you, since Joshua was a sore loser and didn’t know how to treat you like a lady.)

“Fine, but if you try to push me into water, I’m dragging you down with me,” you warned him before you marched past him in a straight lane to the pier.

“Ladies first,” Joshua replied with a wide grin as he tried to catch up with you.

Carefully, you got on the boat and took a seat at the front. You figured if it was Joshua’s idea, he would sit at the back and do all the paddling. After all, you were a lady, and everyone would frown upon seeing you do such a manly labor…

Smiling at you, Joshua rowed the boat to the middle of the lake.

When he had his mouth shut, it was rather peaceful. You could feel the sun and wind on your cheeks as you close your eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy the last bits of warm weather. The sound of water and faint chips of birds echoed in your ears. Admittedly, the little boat trip felt nice – until Joshua decided to interrupt the soothing silence with his annoying voice.

“Why do you hate me so much? Is it something I have done?” Joshua asked as he tossed the paddles to the side beside your legs.

“I just do,” you replied, having no intention to elaborate. It’s just the way you felt – you didn’t owe him any explanation. Joshua needed to understand it and leave you alone.

“We both know it’s not true,” Joshua egged you on, and you rolled your eyes, regretting meeting him today. Too bad Joshua began that topic only when you were stranded on a boat with him in the middle of the lake.

Maybe it was a lie, but you were never going to admit it. You didn’t hate him – you hated that he got praised and applauded for things you always ended up getting reprimanded for. No matter what you did – you were always judged and put down. And if Joshua did it – he was a noble gentleman.

“Come on, love,” he urged you, nudging your knee with his. “Talk to me. Let me fix everything.”

Although you knew he meant no harm, his words riled you up even more.

“That’s the problem,” you sighed, looking away. “I don’t want you to do anything. Even if you tried, you would make everything worse,” you concluded, realizing no matter how charming Joshua could get, he had no power to solve the societal problems you often fell victim to.

You remembered the one time you went hunting with Joshua and Jeonghan. At first, your mom hated the idea, but Joshua somehow convinced her it was safe for you to accompany them. Needless to say, you shot down three pheasants while Joshua and Jeonghan none. You had no experience, yet you turned out to be better than them.

However, the real cherry on top was when you returned come for supper. Your and Joshua’s moms were ecstatic when you brought so much food home. Unfortunately, happiness turned into disappointment when you told her it was you who had hunted them. That night, not only you got scolded for engaging in a typically male activity, but also for disobeying Joshua.

Just the thought about that day made your blood boil in your veins.

Joshua seemed concerned. Whatever made you feel that way, he wanted to change it.

“Is it about Sooyoung? I’ve already told you that I don’t like her like that,” Joshua wondered out loud, even though he suspected his guess was incorrect.

“What? No! It’s not about her,” you confirmed, your voice getting louder. “I never understood you. Sooyoung is literally perfect. Every man wants to marry her,” you started, but Joshua quickly interjected you.

“I don’t,” he admitted with no hesitation in his tone. “Even if she’s perfect, she’s not you.”

Joshua’s words made you gasp in shock.

“What? Did you want me to come here to mess with me?” You asked as you stood up to lean in and flick his forehead. You were somewhat friends – such love confessions were way out of line!

“Of course not,” Joshua quickly reassured you as he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from inflicting any pain. (You have flicked Joshua’s forehead so many times throughout your friendship his skull was impenetrable at this point.) “I mean it. I love you as a friend and as a woman. Can’t you see it?” Joshua asked, staring into your soul. His lips were twisted into a genuine smile as he waited for your reaction.

Joshua Hong loved you.

His confession left you speechless. There were some signs along the way, but you decided to ignore them. It was easier that way. Even if you cared about Joshua as much as he cared about you, you still couldn’t marry him.

Everybody always told you it’s a wife’s duty to submit to her husband, yet you adamantly refused to give into that mindset. Since early childhood you were taught how to serve a man, and you hated every second of it.

If anyone ever gave you a chance, you could prove you were equal, or better than a man. Too bad no one ever treated you seriously.

Despite your feelings for Joshua, you had to reject him. As long as society considered women as lesser than men, you had no interest in marriage.

“Do you have feelings for me, too? Or am I an idiot?” Joshua continued as he pulled your wrists down gently, so you’d lean forward a bit. You were bent in an uncomfortable position as you stared into Joshua’s eyes, wondering how to phrase your rejection.

“That’s not important,” you said, and Joshua frowned, not liking the tone you set for the conversation.

“Of course, it’s important! That’s literally the only thing that matters,” Joshua argued, massaging your wrists with his thumb, hoping his gentle moves could soothe you.

“I can’t be with you. You deserve much, much more.”

“I don’t want more. I want you.”

“I can’t,” you said, your voice breaking.

“Why?”

You dreaded that question. Joshua wouldn’t understand. He’s a man, and you doubted he could see the issue from your point of view. Fuck, even your female friends didn’t get your reasoning.

“I hate it. I hate all of it,” you confessed, letting your bottled up frustrations out. “I hate the idea of marriage. I hate taking orders from people. I hate being judged for everything I do. I hate being perceived as less worthy. I’d rather become a spinster than marry. You have to understand it.”

Joshua knew you better than anyone, and he completely understood where you were coming from. He could see the despair in your eyes whenever someone made an unfair comparison to you. He could see the change in your mood when someone suggested you shouldn’t do something.

“I should be offended. I had no idea you think so lowly of me,” Joshua spoke up, his eyes avoiding you as he tried to properly word the rest of his speech. “I know you. I know you hate these things. I’d never treat you like that. I love you the way you are. You’re stubborn, independent, and fierce. There’s not a single thing I’d change about you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I want you to challenge me. I want you to correct me when I’m wrong. I want you by my side wherever I go. I’ve always treated you as equal, marriage won’t change it,” Joshua said, pressing a chaste kiss against your knuckles.

His affectionate gesture shocked you. Instinctively, you yanked your hands out of his grasp and took a step back. Unfortunately, you failed to coordinate your swift movements. Due to a sudden change of weight, the boat wobbled to the sides, making you lose your footing.

You put your hands in the air, trying to find your balance, but when Joshua stood up to steady you, you tipped off the edge and fell into the cold water with a shriek.

After a few seconds, you resurfaced and coughed out water that accidentally got into your mouth and nose.

“Hong Jisoo! I hate you,” you yelled, kicking your feet in a feeble attempt to stay on the surface. Although you knew how to swim, the cold water seemed to slow down your reflexes.

“Here,” Joshua shouted as he stretched his arm, hovering over the edge to hoist you up. “Grab my hand,” he ordered, laughing at you.

“I’m going to murder you someday, Jisoo,” you warned him as you grabbed his hand and pulled him into water with you. “Maybe sooner than later,” you added when Joshua swam up to the surface and shook his head to the side, trying to get his wet hair out of his eyes.

“You little–

Joshua tried to catch you and make you regret, but you were a faster swimmer.

“Come back here,” he shouted after you, but you just laughed as you tried to distance yourself from his wrath. “I’m not kidding,” he carried on, sending a plethora of threats your way. You, on the other hand, were ignoring him as one of your legs was already hooked over the boat’s edge.

Giggling at Joshua’s antics, you waited for him to swim closer to the boat before you helped him out.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Joshua muttered, giving up the stink eye. “Let’s get back to the shore. I left there some towels and blankets.”

“You planned this, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean? I’ve known you my entire life. Every time we’re here someone ends up in the water,” Joshua concluded as he sat up and put the paddles in the hooks.

“Let me help you,” you said as you sat down beside him, yanking one paddle out of his grip. You weren’t a damsel in distress – you could prove yourself useful. Besides, you needed something to keep you warm, and paddling seemed a perfect solution to your problem.

“Your mother would kill me if she knew I let you do that,” Joshua commented as the both of you put your muscles to a good use. Quickly, you paddled to the short in great synchronization.

“You better get used to it because I intent to live my life how I want it,” you replied, laughing. “Besides, she loves you. If she had to kill any of us, it would be me.”

“Hopefully, we’ll never find out.”

As soon as Joshua tied the boat to the post, you ran uphill where he left the picnic basket under an old oak tree. Initially, he thought it would be nice to enjoy a meal after the boat ride.

Quickly, you wrapped a towel around your frame, trying to dry yourself.

“Come here,” Joshua said as he tossed his towel on your head, aggressively drying your hair.

“Stop it,” you hollered as you rolled your towel and smacked Joshua’s butt with it.

“Truce. Truce. Truce,” Joshua shouted, trying to block your attacks. “Are you still cold?” Joshua asked, staring at you fondly. You nodded, and Joshua wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug before he began rubbing your limbs, hoping friction could help you warm up.

“I hate you,” you muttered as Joshua pulled you against his chest and kissed the top of your head.

“Good girls don’t lie,” Joshua pointed out, and you rolled your eyes at his comment.

“Have I ever been good?”

“Fair enough,” Joshua chuckled, tightening his grip around your frame. “But you don’t hate me. In fact, I think you love me.”

“Thinking has never been your strong suit,” you teased, poking his chest with your forefinger.

“Doesn’t matter because you still love me,” Joshua proudly remarked, ignoring your jab.

“Jisoo–” you started, but you choked on your breath when Joshua’s hand slapped your butt. It took you by surprise – you didn’t expect Joshua to do that as well as you didn’t imagine you’d like the stinging sensation. “But you’re right. I love you, Jisoo,” you added, earning another spank on the other butt cheek. This time, Joshua applied a little bit more strength, making you stumble forward and press against his crotch.

“Hopefully, after we get married, you’ll call me by my name,” Joshua said with a sigh. Gently, he massaged your butt, holding you in your place, so you could rub yourself against his cock.

“You can try and make me,” you carelessly answered, adjusting the wet collar of his shirt. “Joshua. Joshua. Josh. Shua. Joshie,” you tried different variants, but there was something lacking in the way it rolled of your tongue. No matter how many times Joshua tried to correct you, he’d always be Jisoo to you. “See? It sounds weird. I don’t like it.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Joshua winked at you, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “Are you hungry? I’ve brought some sandwiches,” he asked, pointing his head at the basket.

“Not really,” you admitted, giggling under your breath. You had a lot of fun and all the happy hormones that were cursing through your veins made you forget about hunger. Though you you’d never admit it out loud, you’d rather cuddle and kiss him.

Smiling at each other like idiots, you sat down on the blanket. Joshua had his back pressed against the tree, while you sneaked your way onto his laps.

“We’re gonna be in so much trouble if someone catches us,” Joshua commented as he looked around, hoping to not see any prying eyes.

“Worried about your gentleman reputation?” You teased as you squirmed on his laps, pressing yourself against his crotch again. Getting caught with you must’ve excited him, and you could feel the hard evidence trapped in his pants.

“Not one bit,” Joshua admitted, smirking at you. “You’re here with me, so I don’t mind.”

“Good to know,” you innocently replied, batting your eyelashes at him. “So… I’m guessing you wouldn’t mind if I did that,” you carried on as you lowered your hand and cupped his erection, stroking it gently through the fabric.

“I’ve been dreaming about it for years, love. I’m shameless, and I don’t care,” Joshua confessed, and you shied away by his straight-forward statement. “I want you to touch it and do much, much more,” he added as he placed his hand over yours to help you properly feel all of it.

“You’re a devil, Hong Jisoo,” you concluded as you leaned in, letting your breath tickle his full lips. You were maybe an inch away, waiting for him to close the distance and finally kiss you.

Staring into your eyes, Joshua cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips against yours, kissing you gently. His soft nibbles were driving you insane. Your heart was pounding against your ribcage quickly as you shut your eyes close and kissed him back, letting yourself get lost in delight.

Joshua put his hand in your hair, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, pushing your lips apart with his tongue, making you moan into his mouth. For him, it was the most sinful sound he had ever heard, and it instantly made his blood rush down to his throbbing cock.

Suddenly, Joshua flipped you both, so you were lying flat on your back on the blanket with him on top of you, trailing wet kisses down your neck, careful not to leave any marks. If your mother found them, she would kill the both of you despite your honest intentions.

“I will never get enough of you,” Joshua muttered as his mouth slowly moved towards your cleavage. “I still can’t believe your mother let you leave the house without a bra. What was she thinking?” He carried on as he glanced at your breasts, your nipples peeking through the soaked fabric.

“Can we stop talking about her? I’m sick and tired of that woman,” you snapped, feeling angry. She was your mother, but she didn’t even try to understand you. The only she could do was to punish you for your disobedience. Thankfully, you’d move out soon, giving her enough space to reflect.

“Sorry, I was just –

“It’s okay,” you smiled as you ran your hands across his chest and wrapped your legs around him. Smirking, you pushed Joshua to the side and climbed on top of him. Joshua knew you were feisty, but he never expected you to try to dominate him. Now, when he was under you, he didn’t mind you taking the lead. Admittedly, you were incredibly sexing doing so.

Staring down at him, you slowly undid the buttons of your bodice, letting your breasts fall out of it due to the lack of support. Joshua’s eyes were on you, biting his lips as he watched you in admiration.

“Every inch of you is just… breathtaking,” Joshua confessed, shamelessly staring at your breasts. They slightly bounced whenever you inhaled and exhaled, but when you grabbed and kneaded them in front of his face, he almost came in his pants. You were astoundingly erotic, and Joshua had to fight his inner urges to remain in his place.

When Joshua’s brain malfunctioned at the sight of your bare breasts, you roamed your hands across his chest and shoulders, undoing the buttons of his shirt and pushing his suspenders off his shoulders. Who knew it was that easy to shut him up and keep him busy.

Taking your sweet time, you peppered his chest with delicate kisses while your hands disappeared under the hem of his trousers. Joshua hissed the moment your hand grabbed his erection and gave it a few cautious pumps, spreading the precum across all of it.

“Do you like it when I touch you like that?” You asked, smirking at him.

“More than you can imagine,” he admitted, gently thrusting his hips upwards, needing more attention than you were currently giving him. Dreams and sexual frustration that he had accumulated through the years were making him act desperate.

“Then pull your pants down, okay?” You asked him, and Joshua eagerly raised his hips and freed his hard cock. “You’re so big,” you admitted with a gulp, wondering if he was going to fit.

“Don’t worry, love,” Joshua smiled, reassuring his dick wouldn’t break you in half no matter how hard he was to fuck you. “I’ll prepare you for it,” he added before his hand slipped under your dress. Carefully, his fingers pulled your panties to the side, allowing him access to your clit.

“Oh my,” you whispered, tilting your head to the back when you felt a pulse of electricity run through you thanks to Joshua’s fingers. The pads of his digits gently rubbed your clit and smeared your juices across your folds. “Please,” you moaned as Joshua pushed one of his fingers inside of you, curling it.

Your breaths were uneven, your back was arched as Joshua scissored you. In no time, his entire hand was drenched in your dripping essence, and it required Joshua to flick his long fingers inside of you a few times.

“Jisoo,” you breathed out, ready to welcome the pleasure that was building up in the pit of your stomach.

“That’s not what you should call me, love,” Joshua spoke, pulling his fingers away, leaving you frustrated. “Come on, it’s not that difficult,” he urged you, hoping you’d cave. After all, he wanted to finish the job and see you come on his fingers. “You can do it.”

“I seriously hate you right now, Hong Jisoo,” you stubbornly said to which Joshua decided to raise his knees, making you stumble forward against his chest. Thanks to your quick reflexes, you didn’t hit you face against Joshua’s chest.

“Do you want me to get mad?”

“Depends,” you stated with a giggle. “Do we still make love if you’re mad?”

“You’re impossible,” Joshua huffed, thinking what he should do with you.

Was it even that big of a deal? Everyone called him Joshua. You weren’t everyone – you were special. And Joshua was special to you.

“Don’t be mad,” you cooed, drawing swirly shapes on his bare chest. You knew he couldn’t resist you; it was only a matter of time for him to forgive you for the relentless teasing. “Please,” you begged as you rocked your hips, rubbing your clothed sex against Joshua’s painful erection.

“I’ll let it go just this one time,” Joshua said before he harshly pulled you down to give you a rough kiss. “You’re just asking to be punished, but I’ll let it slide for now,” he added, and you trembled. His tone was stern and domineering, you had no doubts he meant what he said.

“I want you inside of me,” you confessed as grinding against him wasn’t enough.

“Take off your dress first,” Joshua ordered as he grabbed the hem, willing to help you pull it over your head. “So you can act like a good girl… you just refuse to,” Joshua concluded as he tossed your dress on the grass next to the basket.

“I’m a good girl when I want something, and right now, I want you to fuck me,” you shamelessly admitted, not even trying to sound like a lady. You were aroused, and with Joshua’s hard cock under you, you paid no mind to proper manners.

“I should’ve figured this one out,” Joshua said under his breath as he hooked his fingers under the hem of your panties and tore them apart, getting rid of the annoying fabric that was in the way. “Since you’re so eager, why don’t you fuck yourself on me, huh?”

Joshua’s sinful words rang in your ears, making you dizzy. It was an order you were more than willing to listen.

Tentatively, you wrapped your hand around Joshua’s cock and aligned it with your entrance.

“Just like that, love,” Joshua whispered, urging you to keep going.

Stress was eating you from inside. You had no experience in sex – you just heard a few detailed stories from your married friends. Sometimes it hurt. Given Joshua’s impressive size, it was going to apply lots of pain.

“Take it slow, love. You’re going to be alright,” Joshua reassured you, reading you as if you were an open book. “There’s no rush,” he added, and you nodded, cautiously rubbing the tip of his cock across your folds.

“Oh my god,” you panted as you slowly sunk on his pulsating length.

“That’s it,” Joshua cooed, trying his best not to thrust from beneath until your walls stretched around him. Your teeth were clenched as you slowly got used to every inch of his impressive erection.

Frankly, you expected it to hurt more. You had period cramps worse than this.

“It feels nice,” you mindlessly said, feeling his cock throb inside of you.

“Only nice?” Joshua teased as he grabbed your butt and gave it a few squeezes.

“I want to ride the hell out of you,” you confessed as you started to rock your hips up and down his cock. Your rhythm was uneven, but you didn’t care. You were chasing your release, and you needed to figure out the speed and angle to make yourself come around him.

“Just like that, love. Keep going,” Joshua moaned, giving you lots of compliments to encourage you to let go and give into your primal urges. The harder you bounced on his cock, the less you could hear him say. “Fuck,” Joshua cursed as your walls began tightening around his erection as if trying to squeeze all of his release.

“I can’t, I can’t,” you groaned as the upcoming pleasure started to overwhelm you. You didn’t think you could feel this good, and your orgasm was yet to come.

“You can, and you will,” Joshua ordered as he grabbed you by your hips, holding you steady, thrusting from beneath you. You were slowly losing your stamina, and Joshua needed to help you. After all, it was your first time – it needed to be magical.

“Josh-

“That’s right, love. Come,” Joshua egged you on, smug about the slip of your tongue. You absentmindedly almost called him by his full name, and Joshua was going to remind you about all the time. (While also hoping such happy mistakes could happen more often.)

“Oh my god, Joshie, I’m coming,” you moaned at the top of your voice, knowing it was so loud people on the other side of the lake must’ve heard you. “Fuck,” you cursed as you arched your back, letting the pleasure consume you.

The way you were spasming around him pushed Joshua over the edge almost at the same time. Screaming your name, he thrust all the way in, emptying his load deep inside of you.

“I love you,” you murmured against his skin as you collapsed on his firm chest. Your mind was still a bit cloudy after reaching your peak. Gently, you drew random shapes on Joshua’s chest, trying to focus on breathing.

“I love you, too,” Joshua confessed for the nth time today, casually kissing your temple. “I could lie here all day,” he added as he pressed you closer.

“Let’s not push our luck here,” you jested as you propped on your elbow to look into his eyes. “It’s a miracle no one has caught us yet,” you carried on, looking around and hoping you and Joshua were here alone. However, you felt so blessed right now – getting caught would be definitely worth it.

“We should make ourselves look decent,” Joshua said as he sat up, pulling out his flaccid cock out of you. His release began to ooze out of you, so he scooped it with his fingers and pushed it back inside.

“Define decent,” you challenged as you reached for your dress and threw it over your head, trying to quickly cover yourself. As long as your breasts were in his line of vision, he didn’t make any effort to cover himself. Too bad you weren’t in his bedroom. He could make love to you for hours.

“Do you have any plans for the evening?” Joshua asked when he came back to his senses.

“Why?”

Joshua just couldn’t get enough of you.

“Do you want to sneak out tonight? We could hang out or something,” Joshua offered, and you smirked, a few ideas crossing your mind. “Or maybe you want me to sneak into your bedroom? That sounds just as fun.”

“Sorry, I have plans,” you deadpanned, bursting out laughing a second later after seeing Joshua’s pouty reaction. “Just kidding. Wait in front of my house at 10. My mother should be asleep by then,” you instructed him before you jumped to your feet and ran away.

“I can’t wait!” Joshua hollered, already counting time until your next meeting.

“Me, too!” You yelled as you put your hands in the air, waving at him in excitement. “Don’t be late!”

#joshua smut #seventeen smut #kvanity #joshua fluff #seventeen fluff #joshua #joshua hong #hong jisoo smut #hong jisoo

2K notes · View notes

inkblot22 · 3 months

Text

Truss

Woohoo Malleus woohoo! I'm making the trigger list a bit bigger because I keep thinking about how people will totally skip reading it if it's too small and then blame the writer for their own mistake. That shit is clown behavior but I don't want to be held responsible for someone else's case of stupid, so sorry to those of you who think this looks clunky. Line divider found here: @/cafekitsune. This is also a fic that is wildly self-indulgent, in that I mean that while writing I visualized my own physical form and quirks.

That being said, this fic is written with afab (assigned female at birth) readers in mind. No pronouns other than you are used for the reader, but the reader does possess a womb. Reader's chest is not described in the least, just the lower bits, and even then it's not at length. Malleus also refers to the reader as "beauty," but masculine people can be beautiful too so idk but here's a warning anyways.

This fic is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. TW for noncon, fae interaction rules used for said noncon, slight bullying if you squint, one (1) mention of blood (I'm beginning to think I have a problem.) Stay safe while reading. Possible OOC Malleus, I haven't read any of book 7 and if you spoil it I'll block you temporarily.

This is absolutely not your fault, and you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. It’s awful. Crewel was for sure his namesake, because this whole thing was a steaming pile of-

Alright, from the top, just to organize your thoughts: you are the only non-magic student in a school of mages. The teachers are mages. Your best friend/roommate/monster friend is a mage. The plants here can do magic, but you? No. Thanks homeworld. Love the gift of nothing.

Thus, the faculty have seemingly created a game of “how to piss off and challenge the magicless student,” in which they give you various tasks to just make you lose sleep. Vargas had you running laps until your legs felt like jelly, doing pushups until your shoulders started sounding like glowsticks. Trein had you learning completely off the wall trivia, such as what type of fabric the Queen of Heart’s favorite bathrobe was made of and why it made her more powerful. That’s nothing, it’s easy because you apparently have so much free time in their eyes. But Crewel? Fuck that man.

When you got the assignment, it sounded fun and exciting. He gave you seeds for a fast-growing rose thing. Honestly you weren’t paying attention to the name of it, but you retained what you needed to know. The plant only grew in moonlight, so you needed to cover it before you went inside at night. It needed a minimum of two hours of moonlight to grow per night. If the basket was overturned and it was exposed to the sun, then the plants would die. Moderate watering, no fertilizer, the usual.

Once the plants bloomed, you were supposed to take the flowers and make some kind of glamour potion, so here you are, failing at doing so. You only had four flowers, and you’re down to the last one. You wasted three tries and you still have no idea what the hell you’re doing wrong and it’s due next alchemy class and you’re breaking curfew on top of all of it. You glare into your cauldron with your latest failed attempt and hunker down to shoulder against the side so you can dump it out and try again.

“Oh, it’s you.”

The voice makes you jump out of your skin. You turn around and you almost want to cry tears of joy, because if anyone can help you, it’s him.

“When I saw a little head duck down, I thought that something strange was happening. A crime, perhaps.” Malleus smiles, and it’s not a kind smile, but you’ll take anything remotely positive at this point, “What are you doing on the floor, child of man?”

“Oh, I have to empty the cauldron.” You puff out, still trying to throw your weight to push the cauldron. You did it twice earlier, so this must be the effects of mental and physical fatigue.

“Oh, that’s right. Allow me.” Rather than waving a hand or anything, Malleus strolls on over and uncrosses his arms, taking one hand and pressing his fingertips against the lip of the cauldron. The whole damn thing tips, the failed mixture pouring out into the nearby drain. With the same ease, he tilts it back and turns to you.

When he looks at you, it’s… weird. You know he’s lizard-like, as dragons evidently are, but even Sebek’s eyes aren’t this jarring. They aren’t soulless or cold or unfeeling, but it feels like he is looking through you. His emotions don’t reflect in his eyes properly. That’s what it feels like. They reflect, but it’s wrong. Fractured. His lips quirk into a smile and you blink.

“Uh… wait, what are you doing out here, Tsunotaro?” You ask, turning to gather more materials, following the transcript of your recording from class.

His smile grows, “Just on a walk. Will you tell me what you’re trying to make?”

“Uh, yeah. This glamour potion? I don’t know. Remember how I was growing those flowers?”

“Of course. And what happened to the rest?”

“I… uh… I messed up the other potions. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong here.”

“No?”

“No. Do… do you think you could maybe… help me?”

“Of course.” Malleus plucks the flower up, twirling it thoughtfully, “Why don’t you gather the other ingredients?”

That was simple enough. Petals from your tediously grown blooms, some kind of floral oil with tiny white flowers inked on the label, a ball of clay no bigger than a pea, something that really resembled a severed finger, something that was hopefully just someone’s baby tooth, a handful of crystals in a rainbow of colors, and water. Lots of water. Malleus watches as you put all your ingredients on the nearby table and hums thoughtfully before dimming the lights and turning back to you.

“And where did you hear that you needed these things?” He asks. It’s not something that he says with any indication that you’re right or wrong. The tone is bland but the words say enough.

He has essentially told you before that he believes you inept, a babe in the woods when it comes to this sort of thing, but it doesn’t stop you from looking as hurt as you feel, “The headmage visited class and gave me some pointers?”

“You personally or the entire class? I don’t personally recall concocting anything like this when I was in your grade.” He says.

You suppose you’re grateful that he’s so blunt, but his flat tone makes the sting of your failure that much sharper. You thought he’d be nicer, since you two are sort of friends, and Lilia has told you that Malleus is fond of you, but it also makes just as much sense for him to refrain from easing up in his flatness because he supposedly thinks so much of you. He thinks you’re an idiot, but he’s not willing to treat you as such.

“The whole class. And no one else in my grade is doing this.” You mutter, staring at your assortment of items on the table.

He approaches the table and plucks up the beaker of water, twisting it in his hand, “Did you distill this?”

“What?”

“Tap water often has various minerals in it. If you haven’t been using distilled water, you’ve been adding an extra ingredient. Typically, most potions are much more forgiving and you can use tap water with little issue, but this particular potion is known to be disagreeable.” He murmurs, crossing the room with your beaker of water and setting it up to distill with a practiced ease. “That’s why it’s typically saved for fourth year students’ aptitude testing.”

The revelation hit you like a ton of bricks. You’d like to protest but it unfortunately makes sense. Malleus looks over at you, somewhat blandly, then turns around to face you, looking half concerned.

You answer his question before he can ask, “I didn’t… know that. I guess it’s my fault for being from a different world…”

His lips twitch into a smile, and for a moment you can see amusement in his eyes, fractured with the underlying coldness, “Oh, it isn’t. It may be your fault for failing to ask questions, but having someone who is unused to this type of work take on an advanced project is cruel.”

“You think so?” You ask, voice lilting with hope.

“Of course I do. Why you’re expected to make a potion of this caliber is beyond me.” Malleus states blankly.

“Uh, yeah. I- I don’t know either. But thank you for helping me!”

His expression flinches. It lasts for less than a second before it smooths into an odd grin. You’re not quite sure what that means, but you’re too happy to stop and think about it. The water finishes distilling and you carefully begin crafting, using the tips Malleus occasionally mumbles towards you. Don’t put that ingredient in yet, stir clockwise, you need to grind that up with the oil, don’t rush you have time, et cetera, et cetera, and then you have a gorgeous violet mixture, glimmering with a pearlescent golden sheen.

Your jaw drops. Somehow the few ingredients you threw together is enough to fill several bottles. Malleus is making a smug face as you rush to the shelves of empty bottles and choose several fluted bottles, quickly using a ladle to deposit the final, successful potion into the bottles. You’re so giddy with your success that you hardly notice as Malleus walks towards the door and locks it. But only hardly.

“What was that for?” You ask, not actually caring. You’re too happy to be worried.

“Oh, we’ll need privacy.” He responds.

That part confuses you enough into caring. You turn around from where you’ve safely wrapped the bottles and slipped them into your bag and shoot Malleus a frown, “Privacy? For what?”

Malleus doesn’t say anything. He walks over to the table and you feel your body stand up, void of your control, and stagger over to stand in front of him. If you were concerned before, you’re frightened now. Malleus looks down at you with his strange gaze and folds his arms.

“Wh-what’s happening?! Why can’t I move?”

“You really don’t know?” He asks. Something about his tone sounds mocking, but you’re certain he doesn’t mean it to be. It’s his version of sarcasm, he’s spoken to you like this before.

Your body hops up on the table, taking a seat, and Malleus turns to stand before you, looking down at you with a soft smile. You shift your hips- what the fuck is going on- and Malleus very gently hooks his hands in the pants of your dorm uniform.

Your dorm uniform is legit whatever the hell you want it to be, so it would change on the daily. Today it was a pair of jeans and a hooded jacket. He kneels to remove your shoes and stands back up, leaning close as he tilts your chin up. His breath fans over your lips.

“You didn’t tell me that you were so lovely beneath your clothes.” His hand on your chin shifted to your cheek, and his other hand laid flat on the table. “And… your smell is much stronger. Are you aroused?”

“You can’t just ask me that! I don’t know what you did but you’ve got to let me go.”

“I didn’t do anything. This is your doing.” He retorts, pecking your lips very chastely.

“What are you talking about?” When he didn’t respond, instead pressing the tips of his hand that was on the table against your exposed sex, your heart jumps but your body doesn’t move. You can’t, “Don’t do that!”

“Lilia informed me that making someone climax is similar to binding someone to you.” He mumbles, kissing you again as his fingers slowly slip inside. “It makes them fall in love with you. Isn’t that the most binding contract of all?”

You don’t know why he isn’t listening, but even less than that, you don’t know why he thought you could handle two fingers, much larger than your own, penetrating you. You squeal, but your body is incapable of tensing. Malleus pulls back, looking at you in a soft confusion.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“With me? What’s wrong with you? That’s too many- it’s uncomfortable!”

He blinks at you and withdraws a finger, which feels much better. You sigh. If you’re going to be forced to do this, you may as well not get hurt in the process. You close your eyes and Malleus hums.

“Is this better? You’ll have to forgive me. I haven’t had a dalliance with a human before.”

“I- I don’t think I’ll be able to… to forgive you for this.”

“No?” You can hear his smirk and the squelching noise as he pumps his finger gets louder. He slips the second finger in again and the burn isn’t so bad as last time, “Well, maybe you can decide that for certain after the wedding.”

“The wedd-” You have to bite your tongue to keep from moaning. Your body leans back, laying on the table, and your gentle assailant curls his fingers, leaning forward to mouth at your neck, “There’s not gonna be a motherfucking wedding. You’re-”

You can hear his horn scraping against the table, “Hmm. I didn’t think you were so entitled. You’re squeezing around my fingers. Are you close?”

“No!” You’re a liar. A ragged gasp leaves your throat and you feel the drop in the pit of your stomach, the burst of euphoria traveling up your spine as his thumb presses against your clit.

Malleus laughs, then leans up off of you. The sound of clothing hitting the ground is the first and only warning you get, but you can’t move, so it might as well have been silent. You feel something on your stomach, coming up about a half inch below your belly button. It’s… almost cool to the touch. You would think it would be warmer, but it’s not. Your eyes round as you stare at the ceiling, and Malleus’s face leans into view, his eyes boring into yours as though he’s reading your thoughts.

“You’re very warm. I’ve always thought this. You must be boiling inside.”

“I- what?”

He doesn’t respond, leaning back up. You feel the velvety head of his cock press against your entrance and as much as you want to jolt away, you can’t move your body. You can’t even look down to see what he’s doing. Your lashes flutter as the stretch sets in, the pressure worse than his two fingers. It burns, especially along the bottom, where his weight lays heavy thanks to gravity. You’re capable of wincing and letting out a whine, but nothing else.

“H-hey, that- that hurts.” You babble.

“Does it? You are squeezing me like a vice. I’ll stay still for a moment so you can relax some. Let me know when it stops hurting.” It’s very peculiar. Although he speaks with an animated tone, his voice is often detached. You would think he’d have more emotion since he’s inside of you.

You blink rapidly and decide that now is as good a time as any to ask, “What the hell is happening?”

“Must you tease me so?” He responds, his voice tense.

“What? I’m not teasing you. I can’t move!”

“Of course you can’t. You only just bound yourself to my will.”

“I what?” You shout.

“What, did you think I enslaved you? I could have, when we first met. You’re too free, giving people your name, thanking them, taking gifts freely… it drives me mad.” You feel a flash of heat, something warm rolling against your skin, like standing too close to a gas stove, “And now I find that you didn’t even know? I didn’t think you were such a fool.”

“That’s just called being polite!” You protest. “Oh my god-”

“I suppose I can’t blame you, really. Relax, lest I harm you.” He murmurs, rolling his hips further as though he can slide in deeper.

You squeak, “N-no, that’s-”

“Too much, yes. Tell me, in your world, do faefolk exist?”

“I- I mean, if they do, most people don’t believe in them.” The oddity of the situation felt like a blanket. Having a semi-conversation while your friend- not after this- used you as a dick holster. It was almost comforting. “I don’t- I don’t understand.”

His voice was deeper than normal, an underlying rasp to his voice, as though it was coming from somewhere deep in his throat, “I will explain. I’ll tell you anything you’d like to know. But after I explain, I will begin to move.”

“H-hey, no-”

His voice sounded choked, half strangled as he stifled a groan, “I apologize for not being clear earlier. Among the fae, verbal contracts are common and binding. You do not give someone your name. You wonder why I never directly gave you mine? It is a way to bind someone to your will. You do not accept gifts. Invitations are fine, but a gift is a sign that you owe someone something. My help- a boon- is a gift. Typically it is repaid with another kind turn. And, most importantly, you do not thank someone without the sufficient power to break their hold.”

You felt him draw back, that wave of heat rolling over you again, and then he slammed forward. The slick noise and dull smack were muffled by your squeal, his cockhead punching your cervix like it stole from him.

“Foolish little thing. I suppose it makes you cute.” He sneers, and your body sits up, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

The angle makes his motion a bit less painful. He’s no longer bumping against your cervix, thank the Seven, but the stretch remains. Your eyes flinch shut and Malleus tilts your chin up to kiss you again.

“St-stop- stop!” You whimper, “You’re hurting me!”

“If you would relax, beauty, that would not be a problem.” His chuckle is dark, the squelching from your coupling making a wicked duet that makes you feel dizzy, “And you said it to me so easily as well. Thank me again.”

“Wh-” One of his hands slipped under your hips, holding your bottom just under the split in your cheeks, and nipped your neck as a flat thumping echoed from where your bodies met, your legs bouncing with the motion. His member had gone back to bullying your cervix, and you wailed in the hopes that he would stop, “Thank you!”

“Heh… it escapes your lips so freely. Tell me, beauty-” He cut himself off with a grunt, panting against the column of your throat. “Tell me, what is it that you’d like? I would give you the world on a platter, should you want it.”

“I- ow! Y-you’re hurting me!”

There was a possibility that he was getting off on the pain he was causing you, just as much as there was a possibility of him not understanding that he was hurting you. With every motion of his hips against yours, despite the wicked pain, you felt that ever evil tug in your gut, like a stone growing heavier and heavier.

You tried again, because if this had to happen, if you were under his control now, you may as well not get injured. You would not be pissing blood if you could help it, “It’s too deep!”

He listened. It was odd, but he listened, his voice warming as he slid back a bit and continued ramming into you, but no longer beating the hell out of your internal organs.

“I didn’t realize. Is that better?” His voice sounded warmer, echoey against your shoulder. His teeth grazed over your skin again when you didn’t respond. He choked out your name and you sort of came back to yourself.

“U-uh- I guess?”

“Wonderful.” He mumbled, his free hand reaching between your bodies and slicked with your sweat, to tweak your clit.

It should be embarrassing, how quickly you reached your height. Whoever he had been with in the past couldn’t have been so sensitive, since you felt his body jerk against you, an uncontrolled undercurrent to his motions. You let out a quiet, squealing moan and barely even felt the break when Malleus bit you to muffle his own groan. You didn’t feel him climaxing inside of you. You felt the control return to your body and flopped backward onto the table, your hoodie damp with sweat. Malleus took a step back, then carefully redressed you, then himself. You looked up at him and saw nothing but adoration in his eyes, not the fractured appearance of such. It was like he was actually looking at you.

When he spoke to you, leaning forward to cup your cheek, his voice was warm, warmer than ever, “Now, let’s start planning for the wedding, my beauty.”

#twisted wonderland #tw: dark content #disney twst #tw: dark themes #tw: yandere #twst #malleus draconia #yandere malleus draconia x reader #tw noncon #tw bullying #fair folk #tw blood #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #yandere male x reader #cervix bruising #you cannot convince me that getting your cervix penetrated doesn't hurt like hell #Because getting it touched is just about the worst feeling i can think of next to getting stabbed #equal pain my friend

98 notes · View notes

spicycinnabun · 1 month

Text

pt. 1 2 3 4 5 6 💐

When Steve got home, Robin had soup waiting for him. He was beyond grateful for a nice warm meal at the end of the day. He had been short with her during their shift—Steve could be a real grump when he was sick—so he apologized for being a dingus.

While they ate, Steve put on their favorite show: Head of the Class. Robin told him he'd make a good teacher every time they watched it. Maybe he would've considered becoming one if he had gotten into college.

The next day was Sunday, and the store was closed. Finally, a much-needed day off. Steve’s plan was to stay in and help Robin pack up her entire life—again. He’d helped her move into his apartment after she’d graduated in the spring.

They both knew living together was temporary, but that hadn’t stopped Steve from getting used to how things were and not wanting them to change.

Robin had spent most of the time they were living and working together trying to convince him to come with her. Instead of living in the dorms, she suggested they get an apartment in the city together. That way, they’d still be there to support each other and could afford it by continuing to split the rent.

If only Steve wasn’t running his mother’s dream business. He couldn’t bring himself to commit to Robin’s plan. He wanted to, but mostly because it would feel even more like hell in Hawkins without her. Besides her, all Steve had left were the kids, and they would eventually go off to college, too.

When it was official that he wasn’t going to go, Steve put up a flier to find another roommate.

He’d been relying on Robin too much. With her and Nancy gone that fall, maybe he could get a life of his own. As much as he’d miss them, he was in too deep to abandon the shop and his mom.

He’d come to love his job. He never thought he’d love anything about working, but he’d found something he was good at—something that most days didn't even feel like work. He was helping people and bringing joy to others. He liked taking care of flowers, too; seeing them grow and bloom and then go off to finish their purpose.

Back in Robin’s room, she was going through her bookshelf, contemplating every single book she had and throwing most of them in a box that would go with her. Steve didn’t know how he was going to lift it to his car on moving day.

“Robs, I’m pretty sure you won’t need any of your books. You’re going to a big school full of nerdy, smart people just like you. Of course the place is gonna have a library. Although… I’m not sure that they’re going to have this book.” Steve looked at it, brows raising suspiciously. There was a muscular man standing proudly on the cover. Kinda feminine, with long flowing hair. He was embracing a woman with a very ample bosom.

Robin snatched the book from him, face flushing, and dropped it in the box. Steve didn’t get an explanation, but they continued to chit-chat.

Random objects kept triggering Robin’s memory, sparking tales that Steve listened to intently. He laughed when she read out loud from her diary the passage about her massive crush on Tammy Thompson.

Steve sang like a muppet, interrupting her just to get her to laugh with him while he arranged her clothes so neatly it was like they were the most complicated flower arrangement he’d ever crafted. Getting every piece of clothing into her suitcase almost felt like Tetris. It was satisfying when he got it closed. Luckily, Robin wasn’t a stereotypical girl with a lot of clothing anyway.

When she went to pack up the bathroom, Steve was so focused that he nearly missed the phone ringing. There was one in his bedroom that was closer than the one in the kitchen, so he got up and ran into his room to catch the call.

Still being sick, Steve was breathless by the time he was able to grab the phone. He sat down on his bed and took a deep breath before he answered. He wasn’t sure who it could be, but his eyes widened as he listened to the person on the other end. The name made him pause: Eddie. Oh.

That was familiar, wasn’t it?

He was about to speak when a sneeze snuck up on him. He pulled out the hanky he’d been favoring ever since it had been given to him. He blocked the receiver, cursed softly, and blotted his nose as it hit him: it was the hanky giver himself on the other end.

“Hey, Eddie! Yes, this is Steve from Harrington Floral,” he replied, smiling a bit. He was chomping at the bit to find out if Eddie’s uncle had gotten engaged. “Did your uncle pop the question last night?”

Forget that Eddie was calling him to find out about his roommate vacancy—he had to know if there was any good news. Steve laughed excitedly when Eddie confirmed that it did indeed happen and that his uncle had visited the flower shop that morning.

“Oh! Your uncle is Wayne? He is the sweetest guy! I didn’t know he was going to propose. He damn near cleared us out of roses! At least now I know it was for a very good reason!”

If Eddie had a nickel for every time he’d heard someone call his uncle sweet, he would’ve been broke. Most people judged Wayne by his surly exterior, just like they judged Eddie by his style and taste in music.

It made Eddie like Steve more, and he could feel a genuine smile stretch across his face. “His fiancée loved them, man. I can pretty much guarantee they’ll choose you to flowerise their wedding. And he’ll be back to buy another bouquet from you as soon as those roses wilt.”

He’d seen the determination in his uncle’s eyes. Wayne wasn’t the type to back down from his words. Kathleen was going to be getting bouquets for the rest of her life. They wouldn’t all be as extravagant as the first one, sure, but she would be spoiled as much as Wayne was able.

“I really appreciate the business,” Steve said, “and because you came on the same day, it just shows that you’re both equally sweet and thoughtful. Happy to hear that he’ll be a repeat customer. Maybe you will be, too?”

Eddie ducked his head. If he had a nickel for every time someone had called him sweet, he would be double broke. It was likely just a salesman’s tactic, but the flattery was pleasurable regardless.

He wondered if Steve would be put off by him if he knew Eddie hadn’t given the flowers to anyone and had kept them for himself like a loser.

“I’ll be back,” he confirmed. And not just because he had a quickly escalating crush on the man in charge. Those Black-eyed Susans on his mother’s grave still looked as fresh as the day he’d bought them. Eddie coiled the phone cord around his finger. “So, turns out I really didn’t need that free bouquet.”

“Guess you didn’t.” Steve was giddy about the news. He loved that the shop's flowers were a big part of the proposal. “Even better that you didn’t pay for them.”

Steve wondered if Eddie had given them to the bride. Given how impressive the ones his uncle bought were, probably not. Maybe Eddie had someone else to give them to.

Steve had nearly forgotten why Eddie had called until Robin appeared in his doorway. He gave her a glum look at the reminder. “You called about the room, though, right?”

Despite having the flier up for almost two weeks, Steve hadn’t had a prospect for a roommate until then. It was kind of a relief to get an inquiry from someone he’d at least seen in person.

“Yeah. I live with Wayne right now, so I’m going to be cramping his style pretty soon if I don’t skedaddle, what with his new bride and all.” Eddie laughed quietly, tapping his fingers on the table.

Steve made a noise of understanding. “My roommate is moving out next weekend. She’s going off to college... You’re the first person who’s called me about it, so if you’re free today, you can come see the place?”

Eddie’s fingers tapped harder. The prospect of being in constant close quarters with a guy he was into was somewhat dangerous. It would either be fun or complete torture.

Or both. Probably both. Eddie had to go for it.

“I can come see it today. What time and where?”

He remembered what area the apartment was located in from the ad, but he couldn’t remember the street name.

Eddie stood up, spinning in a circle to try and find a pen and paper. Of course, there was nothing close by, and he ended up getting tangled in the phone cord instead and had to spin in the opposite direction to unwind himself. Idiot. “Hang on, just let me grab something to write down the address.”

“No problem.” Steve waited patiently, chuckling a little when he heard noises on the other end of the line. Sounded kinda chaotic.

It took way too long, but Eddie eventually found a ballpoint pen in one of Wayne’s jackets. He rushed to grab the phone again. “Sorry, sorry, I’m ready now.” He uncapped the pen with his teeth, using his arm as a notepad to scribble the address down. “Alright, got it. I’ll see you soon.”

🌷🪻🌻🌹

co-writing this with @batty4steddie 💕

#fic #wybmb #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie au #florist au #florist!steve harrington #and then they were roommates #🚪#❤️

113 notes · View notes