#he wants to blast himself into the sun he's CRAZY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hwaightme · 2 months

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THIS IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI FOR STAR’S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut)(masterlist) (taglist)

❤️‍🔥 pairing: husband!seonghwa x gn!afab!reader ❤️‍🔥 genre: smut, fluff, pwp, established long-term relationship ❤️‍🔥 summary: all work and no play makes seonghwa a needy boy; your husband wants you. now. and he will use any means necessary to get you where he wants you. being in the office is not a problem when you are one message away... ❤️‍🔥 wordcount: 8.6k total ❤️‍🔥 warnings/tags: semi-edited, hwa duality, businessperson!reader, mention of offices/presentations/corporate culture, nonidol!hwa, married but permanently in honeymoon phase, two people very in love, petnames, mutual respect, trust and adoration, seonghwa is smitten, reader wears heels, words crazy+drunk used ❤️‍🔥 taglist: at the bottom of the fic ❤️‍🔥 a/n: spiralled into ponderings with @byuntrash101 (ily), and my fingers slipped. oops. any notes, asks, reblogs appreciated <3 much love!

❤️‍🔥 taglist: sexting, praise, petnames (love, darling, my love, pretty, gorgeous...), consent is king, unprotected sex (consider before you deliver), mating press/missionary (vanilla but make it spicy), 69 (blowjob+eating out), creampie, cumeating, slight spit kink, sprinklings of body worship, possessive terms (my/mine), light overstimulation, implied aftercare

“How do I look?” you called out to your husband, who was sitting behind you on your shared bed, feline in the way he was leaning back on his arms, regarding you through half-shut, curious eyes.

Unlike you, he had the day free, but even so decided to go through the motions of a morning routine with you, though finalising it with a considerably less formal outfit. Dressed in a black sweater and matching black trousers, Seonghwa had stated that he was going to go out to get some fresh produce from the market while it was still early, and the rush of crowds did not plague the city just yet. Patiently, he was waiting for you to be ready to head out to work, and he, to comfortably support the home front for today.

“Hm, you look like me having to come to work with you and me having a blast telling waves of potential suitors that you are off limits.” He responded as a matter of factly. Nevertheless, you caught a cheeky grin in the mirror as he scanned you up and down with the intensity of a burning sun.

“Oh … Hwa, what if I want the attention? And what are you going to do about the stakeholders I’ll be speaking to, hm?” You asked him coyly, finally managing to get your second earring on and tapping it with your manicured finger for good measure.

“Something tells me that I’ll have to step in and act like security.”

You chuckled, taken aback, pleasantly lightheaded because of Seonghwa’s early morning flirtations. With one final once over, he smoothed the bed sheets on either side of him and rose up to step right behind you, placing both hands under your suit jacket and on your waist, leaning closer and closer until he could place a soft kiss on the side of your neck which, thanks to your hairstyle, was exposed to the attention.

The sleek, deep navy suit was an elegant number, peaked lapels on the single-breasted jacket perfectly pressed, the wide-legged trousers perfectly guiding towards the heels - pumps in a nude beige, and the white asymmetrical short-sleeved shirt underneath all combining to create perfect harmony. You had chosen elegance over daring energetic appeal today, picking pearl-based jewellery which, upon inspection, was exactly how you had imagined it would be with the outfit. A delicate balance was struck, and was reminiscent of how your husband was gingerly manoeuvring over and around you, until he appeared to have had enough with stalling.

Seonghwa’s arms lazily slid forwards, wrapping a little tighter around you, while his head moved to nudge you towards himself with his chin, until he could rest his head on your shoulder comfortably. Initially wishing to pry yourself away given how little time you had left if you were to make it to the office at a reasonable time, your hands rushed to his own, but as your husband began to sway side to side, blissfully taking in the image in the mirror, you left them there, admiring the priceless scene, and the way in which his hands fit perfectly over yours, the rings matching, another sign of your union completing the masterpiece in the reflection.

"Come on, Hwa, I’ll be late at this rate."

"What's it got to do with me, ma'am? I finished getting dressed fifteen minutes ago, was sitting here, all good and ready for you-" ignoring the word choice, you persisted:

"Because a certain someone was hogging the shower-"

"I told you, you could join." heat flushed to your cheeks as you caught Seonghwa’s less than innocent expression, making you remember exactly why you were not planning to get into any intimate shared space with this alluring schemer before work. Planting a feather-light kiss on your sensitive skin, he was threatening to make you lose track of time entirely. Attempting to wipe the action from immediate perception, you focused on the sensation of tugging on one of your earrings, anything to ground you and to return you into the headspace of the meetings you had scheduled and been booked into for the day, along with the details and key takeaways for each one.

You had always been a fighter in the professional world, and this was one of the many things that Seonghwa adored about you. Having met at a networking event, that was the side of you he had come to be acquainted with first, and had fallen head over heels for. A sublime intensity that came with the passion you had for your work, a fire that ignited when you planned ahead, led teams and managed international ventures were so beautifully contained within you and formulated the intricate maze of your psyche that Seonghwa could not help but want to drown in it, and spend eternity observing you in action. He himself had stepped away from the strict and rigorous structures of the corporate world, instead preferring to offer independent consultation services, but to see you flourish, and to be there for your journey and to have you unconditionally support his decisions and experiments too was nothing short of a blessing. Perhaps the one side effect, a tiny challenge that came with having you as his life partner, his love and his spouse is mornings like this, when you were in the process of escaping for work, driven and ready for battle, your armour being one of the stylish suits of impeccable quality that you took great pains to keep pristine. And the more you did so, the stronger was his desire to see if he could ruin just one, at least one, perhaps the one you were wearing right now. Despite the fact that he had seen you in such garments more times than either of you could possibly count or remember, it made him more drawn to you and involuntarily seduced than he would ever dare admit. Seonghwa’s grip on your hips inadvertently tightened as gaze flashed upwards, settling on the reflection of your perfectly plump, tinted lips in the mirror.

“Besides… As you know, I was making sure that the adjustments were all fine and the overall outfit would be fine for the quarterly review meeting,” you recalled your last-minute concerns over whether the selection was reasonable for meeting persons from the executive office, even though you were not sure if you even had outfits in your job-related arsenal that would not be appropriate, “You could have helped by the way.”

"I did! I gave the fit the Seonghwa seal of approval, but now... honestly am regretting it because you look illegal..."

He turned his attention back to the delicate skin around your neck, planting a couple more kisses with mischief glowing in his eyes. You giggled as his breath left a ticklish sensation and you nearly knocked your head with his in an attempt to shy away.

"And how do you think I feel, leaving you at home like this?”, you let your gaze settle on your husband, a ghost of a smirk revealing itself on your lips, “I need to brush up on my cat fighting techniques, mister handsome, and maybe learn how to teleport" Put him in a rag and he would still look spectacular. Like this, in a relaxed, casual outfit that ideally matched his dark locks, highlighted the broadness of his shoulders and the jawline models would be jealous of, he was heavenly - something which you never failed to remind him of no matter what he was wearing. It was almost a shame that you had to leave for work instead of admiring this beauty for the entire day and an eternity more. You bit the inside of your cheek, banishing less than safe for work ponderings from your mind.

"Woah, Y/N, fighting for me? That's kind of - I do not think I should say what I am thinking."

"You’re being awfully cheeky this morning!" You lightly slapped the back of his hand and spun around, coming closer until only a mere couple of centimetres separated you. "What else can a kitty do with her claws?"

"I mean... my back has no complaints." He speedily responded, tightening his hold on your waist and attempting to capture your lips with his. But at this point, you had gotten good enough at reading Seonghwa to move away at the last second, resulting in a loud smooch right against your jawbone, followed by a purposefully childish whine, "Oh darling you are being a tease."

"Naugh- ty- Seonghwa, no kisses. I took too long to line my cupid's bow. I'm not about to let you ruin it."

You tried to wiggle away, wondering if your suit was actually creaseproof as the assistant at the boutique had advertised, but he was having none of it, now grabbing your hands and swinging them side to side. With his prior seductive aura having subsided after your decisive, playful rejection, Seonghwa’s glances were in many ways boyish, permission-seeking. The most miniscule hint of a pout made its way to his lips as he peered what had to be directly into your heart and intertwined your fingers together, stopping the motion.

“Y/N…”

“Keep this thought in mind, lovely, will you be able to?” you purred, amused at your husband’s slow blinking, reminiscent of an affectionate cat.

“Of course,” you dodged another attempt by him to nuzzle into your neck with a soft, melodic laugh, and pulled Seonghwa to follow you out of the bedroom, “Ah, careful,” he rushed to block the door frame, chuckling at your eagerness to get to the hustle and bustle of your day, even though just a little while ago you still were retaining that light nervousness, likely overthinking every interaction that was not even likely to happen. After all, this was a job only you could do, and it was something that you did better than anyone else. You owned what you did, and everyone knew it.

As you grabbed your keys, and were about to bid farewell to your husband before starting your commute, you sensed his energy shifting to that of scheming.

Seonghwa had a trial to face, and it presented itself with how stunning you looked in the glimmering golden light of the early morning, and how your every step almost sent a shiver up his spine. Wherever you were, he always managed to find you in one sweeping gaze, whether you were on the other side of a room or a few steps away. One of a kind, captivating, the world turned around you whether you would agree with Seonghwa or not. It was a simple fact. And here, in your apartment, where it was just you and him, it was impossible to ignore how his vision was occupied by you, and only you. He was consumed by the effortless charm you radiated, and when you caught him staring, how you lifted one shoulder and responded with a cheeky grin - a gesture of faux coyness. He clenched a hand hidden behind his back into a tight fist until his knuckles turned white, mutely regarding your final preparations before you would disappear behind the door. His thoughts were far away from what he had planned to do today, cursing how you had teased him and blaming routines - your husband would have preferred to take you and himself apart right here right now, unravel the tension that was so obvious he could almost taste it. He bit his lower lip as you leaned down to shift your footing in one of your heels, and barely suppressed a hiss as you glided back up, the pace of the motion highlighting how your curves were complemented by the suit. You were enticing, and watching your back Seonghwa could not help but remember the sensation of running his hand across it, caressing your body, guiding it as you turned into a goddess in the dimmed lights of your shared bedroom, connected with him in every way possible. You smiled at him as though you were not aware of the lustful darkness that began to consume his mind, lips tantalising, dangerous, his favourite heavenly nectar. This was unbearable.

It was impossible to ignore the searing gaze that seemed to have never left you since you had first returned it in the mirror, and was the last thing you experienced as you shut the front door. You kept the radio in your car silent, afraid that your thoughts would be louder than the music either way. Your husband was up to something, determined, and focused on you. And it was beyond exciting. This undercurrent of energy that was eternal, and ran through anything and everything he did was one of the multitude of reasons why you loved him. He was enigmatic, and yet so easy for you to explore. He had opened himself up to you so readily, revealing the edges of his vibrant soul that was so unparalleled and high octane that you swore that after meeting him, you ceased to breathe oxygen and could only ever inhale the adoration he provided. He was a dreamer, an ideator, a man devoted to the search for happiness, and that balanced you out so perfectly - it had only been a month when you had decided for yourself that Seonghwa was the one for you, and you would never let go. He was an eternal surprise, an enigma that was as soft and lovely as a cat, but wrapping itself around you like a serpent, slow and sensual. You wondered, as the day commenced and you were pulled into your first meeting, then another, just what your husband had crafted in his beautiful mind palace.

It did not take too long for the plan to reveal itself. Fortunately, because you did not enjoy facing unknowns. Unfortunately, it was in the middle of a meeting with some rather senior people. On the brighter side, you had proposed a five minute break before continuing the session so you had at least a couple of breaths to re-compose yourself, but other than that… it was only you, the phone that you were squeezing so hard in your hand that it could break, and the daring photograph blaring on the screen, setting you on fire. You had exchanged a couple of messages with Seonghwa prior to the meeting, his responses being cryptic and dizzyingly abstract, but nothing could have prepared you for the surprise.

Your other hand quickly found your thigh, gripping onto it so that you would not break your stoic disposition with a shaking leg, and you glanced side to side to make sure that the colleagues next to you had not returned to the room yet, and the others were preoccupied with their own devices or were deep in mundane conversation. So, this was what he was so enthusiastic about down following the morning antics. Clearly, you had not been passive enough for him to dismiss your glances in his direction - if you were to be honest, you had been eyeing him up and down from the moment he intentionally walked into you while changing, making you wonder how it was possible for you to want him more and more with each passing day, rather than feelings of attraction and enamourment subsiding with marriage and with sharing all the ups and downs. Instead, both of you were each other’s paradise, and that presented itself in all forms of desire. As you regarded Seonghwa’s form in the picture, lightly biting your lower lip as you tried to think of how you could respond to it, you could only be amused by how he knew exactly what buttons to press, and how to reignite what you had tried to pause earlier this morning - simply as an attempt to retain your sanity for handling paperwork and handshakes.

Resting on the chair that was in your bedroom, he made sure to accentuate his impeccable form, and how his long hair suited him so spectacularly. He had changed outfits - just for you, and that made you want to devour him all the more. Your precious husband who looked like sin. The vibrant beige jacket, which appeared almost brown in the sensually dimmed lamplight, hung freely over his upper body, revealing a tastefully bare abdomen, and consequently, the lovebites you had managed to leave above his heart and towards his collarbones after a particularly intense night a couple of days ago - they had only now begun to show signs of fading. Towards the very bottom of the picture you could spot the edge of a matching pair of trousers, black belt intentionally loosened to make your imagination run wild. A centrepiece, his black silver necklace and a perfectly paired earring, were the icing on top of the cake, their shimmer beckoning you. It was impossible to choose what to focus on; the head tilt, the elegant hand on which he was practically resting his head, how one leg had been thrown over the other - confident, in his element, so very Seonghwa that it made you hurt; and want him. Desperately. You shut your eyes and rolled them as you imagined the smirk on his face as he sent the image, knowing exactly what state he would pause you in, and hurl you into. When your husband was in the mood, it gave him an additional thrill to either catch you off-guard completely with bold advances and compliments, or fluster you until you were melting in his arms. And you did not mind one bit; that was your time to let go, to give up your stresses and iron grip and let all strains snap and become threads with which Seonghwa could pull at your very essence, praising you for how well you could follow his guidance, and just how perfect you were for him. You did not notice how your thumb was merely hovering over the keyboard until another message slid into view, and you barely suppressed a gasp, again looking up to make sure no one was watching you.

“Missing you, your taste, your everything, darling,”

This was the last straw, as you almost forgot what meeting you were in, where you were, how you were supposed to behave. You jolted upright, standing straight and excused yourself with a bow of the head, pointing at your phone - with the screen turned towards you. It was easy enough to get out, and storming down the corridor until you were out of everybody’s earshot, you pressed onto the call button, only to be met with a deep chuckle after a single ring. You could envision him still sitting on the chair, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling as he toyed with your passions, beckoning you to race home to him. He knew you couldn’t until the day was officially done, and that was part of the fun. It only meant that when you were to finally open that front door, you would be more than ready to give yourself up to his tender love and care.

“Park Seonghwa, what do you think you are doing?” you hissed, pressing the phone right against the side of your face as your foot tapped an abstract rhythm on the carpeted floor.

“What do I think? I think I am talking to you right now, what about you?” he replied, purposefully feigning obliviousness.

“Hwa, the photo… the damn message....”

“Oh! That… yeah, it’s nothing special, really, I just did not send you any in quite some time, so thought I could spark… something,” he paused, indulging in your shallow breathing before finishing the sentence.

“Well you sparked something alright. Seonghwa. Or should I say, my demon of a husband?” you raised an eyebrow as you were met with a silence on the end of the line, but not long after, a sweet, resonant hum of agreement.

“Mm, what a title. Is that how I am making you feel, precious? Are you missing a certain something too?”

Missing. What exactly did both of you imply the other was missing? The word was laden with ambiguity and promise, imagination running wild from the emphasis that Seonghwa had placed on it, lifting it onto a pedestal, above rationality and stability. Inhale, exhale - you counted your breaths, knowing that in a minute you had to be heading back to talk numbers, strategies, even though only your husband would be on your mind.

“I-... yes, damn it,” you mumbled, lashes fluttering as a shiver ran up your spine.

“Mhm, I see… Now, don’t be shy, tell me, what is it that you are missing, what do you feel?” if there had been any hope of you remaining focused on work for the rest of the day, it was most certainly wiped now. You were mesmerised, clinging onto Seonghwa’s voice as though it was your only salvation in the midst of a storm. Quickly, you were losing all sense of your surroundings, too focused on his breaths, his sigh when he was obviously displeased with having to wait for your answer, and finally, his subtle command:

“Don’t be shy, tell me what’s on your mind,” you could not bring yourself to even part your lips, eyes darting to what you could see through the blinds into the meeting room. Your senior colleagues were still lethargic, unfocused, scrolling away or engaging in idle chatter. Maybe it could be advantageous, but judging by the heat that began to rise over your body you would definitely struggle stringing words together with eloquent cohesiveness. Seonghwa. The devious man. Your favourite drug. Your worst and best addiction.

“Perhaps you might need a little… inspiration… yes?”

“I…”

“...wouldn’t mind having you right on my tongue, writhing, falling apart…”

“Park Seonghwa-”

“I want to taste you. Want to keep you close for a long…” he paused, indulging in your electric silence, “long time, warm my cock while keeping you in a tight embrace, kissing you until we cannot breathe… how does that sound?”

“G-good…” you struggled to mumble out, wondering why your knees were transforming into jelly. The coolness of the wall against which you decided to lean provided some illusion of support.

“Your turn,” his tone turned more commanding and that did not go unnoticed. You bit your lower lip, not caring if that was going to smudge your lipstick. Nothing mattered, “I didn’t spare any details,” he waited. You remained frozen in your own thoughts, thousands of desires darting around your mind, but none being brave enough to escape and reveal itself to your husband. Perhaps for the better:

“Please don’t make me beg,” he must have heard you stifle a sound that was far too inappropriate to ever be heard in the workplace - the airy laugh that you were met with over the line was downright sinful, and made you curse your job. You needed him. Needed the release he was so readily offering.

“Or do you want me to pry your dirty little secrets out of you until you are the one begging?”

A shaky inhale, an equally shaky exhale. You uttered his name, in a low voice only he had ever heard. Simultaneously hostile and tantalising. He now knew that he had you hooked.

“Mm… fine. Please, my darling. Please, tell me all those precious filthy musings swimming around in that delightful brain of yours,” you clenched the phone tighter in your hand and crossed your legs. You knew you had no time, despite easily imagining the position that Seonghwa was in, where he was and how lost he was in a lascivious dreamland. Eyes glossed over, lips wetted with his own spit, tension building in his core which he refused to unwind. Without you, at least. With a sharp intake of cold air, you steadied yourself. You were not about to reward demands with treasures.

“Now, what would be the fun in that?”

“Come on… Y/N, I-”

“Be good, and you might just find out.” you cut him off, offering a fake smile to a colleague who walked past you. You needed to come back. Immediately.

“So you will be heading back on time today, right?” he was daring you, but at the same time it was easy to notice the notes of desperation. Untouched, riled up, overwhelmed. Needy. Just how you loved him.

“Hm… I do have a couple of things I could do…” who were you kidding? You had already gone through the fastest route home in your mind.

“Is that refusal I am hearing?” you heard him shift in his seat, the image of him leaning forwards to put an elbow on his knee so vivid that it was as if he was before you.

“Not at all, love, not… at all…” giving up due to your growing distraction, you let your husband have at least a little bit of hope. Clearly, the words worked wonders as with newfound vigour, Seonghwa bid you farewell.

“Then see you soon, Y/N darling.”

Soon could not come soon enough. You were glad no one could see your leg shaking under the table, and that you were well-practised in discreetly checking the time. Teasing, tugging you along to follow his game, striking you out of the blue and opening the door to the world that only you two shared. You would be lying if you said that you were thinking about anyone else while debating with an executive, or when you were brave enough to point out a blatant assumption that was used to support a projection earning yourself a few pointed questions. But nothing compared to the blaze that caressed your skin, spurred you on and made you feel alive. Your favourite deviant, seductive god, king of your heart and keeper of your soul, he gave you control just as much as he could take it away. Wiping away anxiety, he left anticipation. Erasing doubt, he left a blooming confidence.

And with that feeling and darkened gaze, you were racing against the clock, accompanied by the sound of your soles clicking against concrete, accelerating away from the skyscrapers that housed your professional victories and into winding tunnels. You mutely cursed at every delay and every pause in your commute, but nonetheless made it home in record time, astonished by the vista of the setting sun which you normally could not catch in the winter months.

---

The jingling of the keys alerted Seonghwa of your presence, and he set his phone screen down onto the kitchen table, turning to perch himself on the doorframe. He crossed his arms, a ghostly smile on his lips. Aside from going through the regular domestic chores he had planned for himself - a feat in his far from concentrated state, he had decided to be a little more forward with his demands, much to your shared excitement. This, of course, began with his appearance, or rather, a casual exposure of himself in a way you had always encouraged him to do, loving his body so genuinely that it translated into an unparalleled self-appreciation for him. At the same time, that meant that in moments just like this one, he could use your infatuation with his mind and his physique against you. All for a little bit of harmless fun.

He was right, as always. The moment you lifted your head and were about to announce your arrival, a breath hitched in your throat and words died on the tip of your tongue. Hair loose, bangs neatly falling to frame his face, and that damn jacket with a leopard print inner lining, casually thrown over his bare upper body, befitting him so well that you needed to give yourself some time before choking out a quick, feeble ‘I’m home’ and kicking off your heels. He grinned, outwardly innocent, pretending to ‘just be happy to see you, when in fact his imagination was already beginning to forgo every article of clothing you had on. Scanning your form, Seonghwa could not help but bite back a groan. Since the moment you had left this morning, he wanted you back because he wanted you. On the bed, on the table, on the counter, he did not care about the mess. In fact, if there was to be a mess, he would be all the more satisfied. His skin was burning worse than if he were to have a fever, and every moment that passed while you were going through the regular after work motions was pure torture.

As you finished washing your hands, and were about to tiptoe past him, likely to set your bag aside in your home office, he stopped you with one, quiet utterance.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day…”

Your heart was pumping an unsteady, deafening rhythm, and your hands were on the verge of shaking. Nothing was stopping you from simply giving in… except maybe an inkling of rebellion that clung onto you. He already had you in his hold, mouldable to whatever form he wished for, but if he was to play the long game, so were you.

“Mmm… don’t know about that. Missed the memo,” you huffed, wasting a little too much strength on forcing the phrases. Rushing past your husband, you headed to your office and pretended to be taken by both your bag and the miscellaneous stationery left on the desk.

You heard Seonghwa stalking behind you loud and clear, hyperfocused on his catlike steps, but remained rooted to your spot. Taking every item out of your bag, painfully slow, you were rapidly succumbing to the vision of your husband taking you apart. Gorgeous tanned skin, which you knew he was purposefully flaunting to you, intoxicating plush lips which were so vivid in your mind you could almost taste them, and his skillful hands… which just so happened to now be hovering over your waist. You clenched your jaw when they found purchase on your hips, and almost guided you to stand up and be pressed right against him.

Heat was rolling off your stunning lover in waves, and it was downright unbearable to have your back be connected to his toned chest. Seonghwa had no plans of letting you go. He pulled you closer, until you could practically trace his half-hard cock with your ass. He sighed at the contact, air softly passing over your skin, and let his lips trace a broken line upwards to your ear.

“That won’t do at all…” he flexed his arms as his hands roamed your body, “Fortunately, I know exactly how to show you,” you completely blanked, “what a good husband you have.”

As he was about to toy with the buttons at the top of your shirt, the one on your jacket having been long undone, you sprung into action and stopped him, barely suppressing a smirk as you turned your head and spotted a dash of confusion in his glossy eyes.

“I do have a wonderful husband, indeed. Too bad he does not know how to behave properly,” using the moment you slipped out of his embrace, and sauntered towards the door. Seonghwa was left in shock, starved and needy, having been thinking about you, you and only you all day. But his composition returned just as rapidly as it had faltered. You slowed down before reaching the door, as if being pulled back.

Seonghwa was, indeed, magnetic. Lithe, agile, he reminded you of a panther, slinking across the couple of metres that separated you. You were aching to rip off the beige two piece right where he stood, and involuntarily darted your tongue between your lips, much to your husband’s amusement. He was not quite as gentle this time, grabbing a hold of you until you were chest to chest and securing your position by pressing on your lower back. His breath tickled your face; your hands snaked under his jacket, running over exposed skin, worshipping every part you could both see and visualise.

“Really, Hwa. So eager,” you mumbled, brushing your lips over his, testing the waters and seeing a lustful, desperate storm clouding his dilated pupils.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered against your cheek, leaving a tentative peck. You dared to glance at him, poking his nose with your own.

“You’re acting out… disrupting me at work… sending such dirty things to me… calling me to tell me how you want me… is this to be rewarded, my love?” a shudder rolled over Seonghwa’s body, resulting in him planting more feverish kisses over your face, moving towards your jawline and finally across to your ear, nipping it.

“How could I ever behave when I need you, and you are looking like this…” his fingers caressed the collar of your shirt, scalding hot, “and are wearing my favourite perfume…” he inhaled, as though he was drunk off your scent - it was nothing more than what had come to be your signature, a bouquet of notes that defined you, but soon enough turned to being another way in which you occupied Seonghwa’s senses.

Both of you subconsciously moved towards the door, getting impatient. Fingertips mapped the hickeys with violently cautious touches, and Seonghwa swore that if he did not act now, he would go mad. It was ridiculous. You were his life partner, a person to whom he had committed with his entire being, and yet with every passing day his desire for you kept on growing and he was falling deeper and deeper in both love and lust. With you in his arms he was a man lost at sea, blanking out, spiralling and devoted to passion. A big difference between your time dating and your married life, however, was that he did not have to hold back on his own wishes anymore, being as explicit as he was comfortable with, knowing that you would do the same, and no matter what, pleasure would be mutual and adoring. And, he needed it. Seonghwa needed you now. His hand moved on its own accord to cup your face and guide it towards his own. Millimetres apart, he set you ablaze along with him.

“...please…” spilled out, a feeble plea. Seonghwa’s eyes were darting all around you, trying to get some kind of answer, permission, anything. You nodded. And the thread holding you two back snapped.

The kiss was messy, animalistic, far from the calm lover with whom you shared your daily life. Seonghwa did not give you a chance to breathe, instead pushing his lips against yours with the ferocity of a starved man. Unparalleled sweetness graced you as his tongue slipped inside, and he eagerly revisited the movements he found most entrancing, his occasional rough and low growls sending you into a frenzy. Your muted whine spurred him on, and he pushed your entangled forms out of the office, and into the bedroom, the door to which had been left open.

One nip, another, it was as if he wanted to mark you as his everywhere, teeth leaving a pleasant blend of satisfaction and a dull pain to spread from your lips and shoot straight to your core. You began to push off his jacket, a request which he readily accepted, leaving him constrained only by his bottoms. Seonghwa would not give you any false advantages, speedily tugging your jacket off you. His erection was pressing into your thigh, and you could not resist grinding against him, eliciting a delicious groan.

Soon enough, your shirt and bra hastily joined your jacket on the floor, while Seonghwa spared no time in kneading one of your breasts, while feeling the air with the other in an attempt to reach the switch on the floor lamp, growling into the kiss when he missed the first couple of times and hand to open his eyes. You broke away from your husband, resting your palms on his abdomen and admiring just how pretty he looked in the warm, dimmed light that washed over the room in a flash. So it was that kind of night.

“...Want to see you…” he mumbled as he pressed his forehead against yours and locked your lips together once more, guiding you backwards towards the bed. When your legs hit its edge, he hooked his strong arm around you, a quick “careful,” escaping him.

“Let’s get this off, shall we?” gliding a finger on the inner side of the trouser waistband, he waited for you to comply. It did not take much time for you to get rid of the remaining clothes, and be left only with the full awareness of just how wet you really were.

You pressed your legs together, only for Seonghwa to inch his knee and push it in between, forcing them back apart. It was times like this when you realised that he really could read you better than you could read yourself, and any gesture, thought or fantasy, was his as much as your own.

“You’re so beautiful, no need to hide from me,” he scanned over your body, and you felt like you were on fire, melting into him. While your husband’s eyes were glazed over with lust, within them they still held so much love that your heart could burst. “Ah, wait a minute,” you watched as he removed his bottoms, and with a hiss, let his hard and leaking cock spring free. His low chuckle was music to your ears, “now we’re good.”

“Mhm… oh Hwa… I really did make you wait…” you lowered your gaze to his cock, finger tracing a line down his stomach and stopping right before its base. He sucked in a shallow breath, nuzzling his face against yours to hide how close he was to being pushed completely over the edge. Patience was a virtue, and he barely had any left. “Let me take care of you, hm?” you suggested, trying to move to the side to gesture for Seonghwa to sit down on the bed. He remained still, and whispered against your cheek:

“No… I wanted to do that- ah-” your leg brushed against Seonghwa’s sensitive cockhead, pulling a gasp out of him.

“Then I have an idea, if you’re with me on this. Lie down for me?” pulling away, you switched where you were standing, and tilted your chin to gesture at the bed that was now in front of you. Seonghwa peered around his shoulder, and back at you, a soft, tiny smile, albeit a meek one, dancing on his lips.

“Baby you’re doing too-”

“Shush, we can make each other feel good,” promptly following Seonghwa, you were now hovering above him, playing with his necklace.

“I love you,” he said breathlessly, making the side of your mouth curl into a half smile.

“I love you too.”

“Now I’m craving something sweet,” you lightly slapped his chest and shook your head in an attempt to hide your amusement.

“Oh stop it…”

“I think I’ll go crazy if I don't have you sitting on my face in the next few seconds.”

“Can’t have that happening.”

You adjusted positions, and once you had your back facing Seonghwa, he pulled your hips towards him to lower your pussy over his face. Carefully, you leaned forward, relishing in the sight of your husband’s impossibly stunning body, every muscle a work of art. After finding a comfortable balance, and waiting for the initial shock of Seonghwa tasting you to turn into a continuous thrum of pleasure, you spat into your palm, and wrapped the hand around his cock. His thighs tensed in response and his grasp became tighter as he rolled his tongue over your clit.

Mirroring him, you teased his cockhead, and only then proceeded to take his length into your mouth, relaxing your jaw and moving slowly to ensure that he would not reflexively buck into you. You flattened your tongue, dragging it along the shaft and spreading spit and precum. You took him deeper until he hit the back of your throat. With hollowed cheeks you began to bob your head at a leisurely pace and not caring for the mess you were making at the base of his cock, clear liquid running down past the corners of your swollen lips.

Seonghwa produced a muffled noise, unable to stay completely focused while you were driving him towards his high, but not breaking contact. He sucked on your clit, making you whine while deepthroating him. Your eyes were starting to water as you wanted more, always more, and you reached to fondle his balls, pausing to get some air. Strings of saliva and precum momentarily connected you still, and the lewdness of the scene was downright pornographic. You were relentless, addicted to this man whom you had the exclusive ability to call your husband. You were the one who knew how to take him apart and put him back together.

The wanton sounds of Seonghwa devouring your pussy stimulated you further, and the coil which had been growing tighter with every pass of his skillful tongue was ready to snap and release. A hint of a trembling sensation passed through your legs, and you sped up your own motions, your hand jerking off the base while you swirled over his tip in preparation to take him fully again.

Seonghwa dipping his tongue between, in and out, and through your wet folds had you seeing stars, and you grinded against him. He gripped you tighter so that you would not be able to instinctively squirm and lift yourself upwards, and circled around your aroused clit, sucking it in between his lips and returning to fucking you with his tongue. His vision was clouded, he was in a daze, unable to process anything anymore, except the static fuzziness in his brain and how delicious you were.

He used up what little attention he had left on your clit, and repeated ministrations had you tipping over the edge and shuddering in his hold. Seonghwa remained buried between your legs as your climax hit you, and held you to prevent your hips from leaving him, and continued to lap at your sopping heat, catching your release. You moaned against his cock, freezing in place and letting your husband chase his high by bucking his hips upwards and using you. In no time, he was painting your mouth and your throat with thick strings of white, falling back onto the bed while you followed to try and swallow as much of his release as you could. Cum and spit was dribbling down your chin and his shaft when you were finished, and once you, with Seonghwa’s help, were laying on your side and face to face with him the unmistakable glistening fluid on his face made you love him all the more. One kiss, another, you tasted yourselves on each other’s lips, choosing to make your lungs scream rather than let go.

He was so beautiful. His loving, electric gaze - a permanent feature of his expression when it came to you. Everything about him was a reason to adore him. You brushed away a strand of hair, one which had stubbornly stuck to his forehead, only for Seonghwa to take your hand in his and plant a soft kiss on its back. You giggled, enjoying the contrast of this intimate, but lighthearted moment as opposed to the passionate exchange earlier. This was how he was, and you would not want him any different.

You took your time regarding him, and he did the same to you. Blissful, overflowing with a want for more. His lips were on yours again, and you deepened the kiss by bunching his long inky hair in your hand. Every reaction, every gasp was your favourite music. Seonghwa rolled over and positioned himself between your legs, arms on either side. Hair perfectly framed his elegant features, and the shadows cast shapes akin to a painting you would see at a gallery. He was a masterpiece.

“Lift your hips for me,” you followed his request, wriggling into position while he lifted himself up to take your legs and bend them towards your torso, “thank you, my love… such a pretty pussy, all mine,” the dirty talk came naturally to him, and it was not your first time hearing it, but nonetheless had you biting the inside of your cheek.

Still sensitive, you whispered his name when he glided his hardened cock between your wet folds. Coated in slick and cream, Seonghwa met no resistance and bottomed out in one stroke. Your loud moan prompted words of praise and adoration, and he was certain that nothing could ever be better than this.

“Ah- just perfect-” you watched his face contort , eyes threatening to roll back as he started to thrust into you.

You could barely form words, sinking into the pillows and peeking at Seonghwa through half-lidded eyes - the most you could muster. All your senses were filled with him, and you swore you were going to fall apart at any moment. Grateful for his arms supporting your legs, you physically couldn’t resist the drowning pleasure, instead trying your best to keep up with his cock drilling into you, failing whenever it brushed over your sweet spot.

“H-hwa-”

“Mm?”

“Kiss me,” you pleaded, making him push your legs further apart and crawl a little ways over you until his orbs, near black in the dimly lit room, were boring into you.

You intertwined, overlapped, transposed into something greater than yourselves. Sharing the same air, you panted in time with your lover and captured his lips with yours over, and over again. His body was so close to yours, that you could feel his necklace brushing over your chest, occasionally touching your neck. Seonghwa filled you to the hilt, the slight stretch turning your moans into barely audible mewls.

“Please- h-harder- I l-love your cock so mu-uch-”

Seonghwa cursed under his breath, drunk from your choice of words, and with one final kiss curled over you and quickened the rocking of his hips to a brutal euphoria. You were on the verge of melting, bodies turning agonisingly hot with each passing second. Your hands searched for his wrists, weakly wrapping around them for some form of support. Carnal; you were infinitely turned on by how instinctive his reactions were. You could not care for anything in the world, words turning to a garbled mess and moans loudly echoing in your husband’s ears.

“F-fuck, you feel so good I’m-” he was fisting the bedsheets, ruthlessly pounding into you, the slapping of skin against skin and your sounds making him fall apart.

His pace faltered as he came, legs shuddering, voice breaking as he unleashed an airy and high-pitched moan, but he still continued to thrust while he filled you with his warm load. He pushed his release deeper inside you, breathing heavily and pressing you more and more into the bedsheets. The squelching was downright filthy, but you wanted to capture every drop and threw your arms around Seonghwa as much as you could given your position, simply so he could be flush against you. He hissed through gritted teeth as your walls began to clench around his aching length, prompting aftershocks from his orgasm.

“Hwa-a, I’m coming, I- don’t stop please-”

“Come for me, love,” his gentleness, even in such a feverish moment, was your undoing. The thread you had been clinging onto snapped.

Your head fell back against the pillows, and if it wasn’t for Seonghwa’s form securing you from above, you knew you would be arching off the bed, uncontrollable. You called out his name like a mantra, and in your ecstatic haze could sense him slowing down, helping both of you ride out your intense climaxes. Vision spinning, you did not dare move, instead transforming into a pliable doll for Seonghwa to rearrange. Shakily, he let go of the bed sheets and sat upright, tapping your legs to relax. Lazily, you stretched out, heart still racing, and barely registered the dip of the mattress next to you.

When you turned, your husband was there, head resting on his hand, propped up by his elbow. He was studying you with a small smile, and when he noticed you were more present, leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Hello,” it was almost unbelievable, just how honey sweet he could be in a matter of seconds, making you more shy than during sex. This made you all too aware and critical of your current state, and you turned your head to search for something to cover yourself with, until you heard a sigh escape your husband, “It’s like I’m dreaming. You’re so enchanting.”

He fell fully by your side, draping an arm over your upper body and gingerly massaging your hip. It was rare for him to not rush to clean both of you off, but you were not complaining about this kind of moment of closeness. It felt raw. It felt real. You got to fall in love for the nth time. Seonghwa’s face was rosy, blushed, and he was just barely steadying himself, but even then, was not letting go of you, choosing to retain all physical proximity in favour of going about routines. HIs cum is smeared over your folds, was dripping onto the covers and had smeared across your inner thighs, you had remnants of spit and release on your face, and yet he was still looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. His one and only.

“Not too sore? Shall I run a bath?” He poked your nose with his own, grinning when you ran a hand over the side of his face.

“Mm… I’m fine. But a bath would be nice. Can we…”

“Want me to join?”

“Mhm. Want you to give me a head massage.”

“Ah, of course, at your service-”

“Come on…” you chuckled at his joke and trailed off, pausing to stare deep into his eyes, musing everything and nothing all at once.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

“Just thinking how you should send me pictures more often,” a hint of darkness flashed in his eyes; mischief, future schemes formulating themselves. You traced past love bites, ran a finger over his plump lips which were equally as red and swollen as yours, you bet.

“Mm, you changed your mind I see. None of that ‘I am at work’ anymore, then?”

“Maybe you should be the one who is worried now,” you shot back with a smirk.

Seonghwa sat up, swinging his legs over to the edge of the bed, but turning back to give you one last adoring look before launching into a routine long-familiar to you. In no time, you would be taking careful sips of water while waiting for the bath to fill, and your husband would be telling you to stay put, having returned from the clouds and back to finding it unbearable to have clothes on the floor and creasing. Your heart swelled. He was everything at once, flipping switches, changing from one second to the next while still being his gorgeous self. Before, it had made you confused, flustered. Now, you just loved him. There was no other way to put it. You got to see every curve and edge, and always discovered something new.

“I’ll be impatiently waiting.”

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steddiealltheway · 1 year

Text

Thinking of a steddie neighbor “enemies” to lovers AU. Oh my gosh it’s so long again and now there’s ronance.

Steve is a middle school teacher, and he’s lucky to find a small house that’s close to the school he’s teaching at after the summer ends. In fact, he seems a little too lucky. It’s only after he’s signed all the papers that the old tenets show up to warn him not to buy the house because the crazy neighbor next door.

Steve kind of shrugs it off and thinks nothing of it because he’s dealt with crazy before, and his students give him something new to deal with every day.

During the move in process, he keeps glancing at the dark house next door. Sometimes he thinks he sees something, but whenever he looks there’s nothing there. Until one time when the neighbor seems to get something caught in the curtains and is unable to close them fast enough. But still, it’s only a small slit open and with the sun beating down, the glare is too harsh to really see anything.

For the rest of the day, he doesn’t see a single curtain move. And by the end of the day, when all his boxes are moved inside his house, Steve wants more than anything to just go to sleep on the bed he tiredly put together. Some of the corners aren’t tucked in properly, and Steve definitely doesn’t remember what box he put his pillows in, but he collapses on his bed quickly on the verge of sleeping.

Then, he can see, or rather hear, what the neighbors meant. There’s a screeching noise and then some loud crazy riffs being played from some guitar next door. Steve covers his ears and groans when he realizes that it’s not going to help anything. It’s as if the neighbor is playing their guitar outside the house.

It’s a new era of Steve’s life, so instead of letting it go, he decides he’s going at the issue head on. He groans as he pries himself out of his bed. Okay, maybe letting it go would be a better idea, but what happens when school is back in and he needs to sleep?

This is absolutely the right decision.

As he steps out the front door, he instantly realizes the problem. The neighbor has cracked the window next to Steve’s house as if he’s trying to be a nuisance. Maybe the old tenets were right.

As Steve approaches the front door, he glances around the porch and catches sight of a skeleton sitting on a small chair with a mug attached to its bony hand. Upon closer inspection, Steve notices it’s a Garfield mug which makes him smile a little. Maybe a little crazy isn’t too bad.

But the blasting from the house is bad. Steve takes a deep breath and loudly knocks on the door. The music halts almost immediately and it takes a few moments and a bit of cursing from the other side of the door for it to finally creak open.

Oh Christ.

The door slowly opens revealing longer dark curly hair, pale skin, big doe eyes, full lips, and altogether Steve’s absolute daydream which he guesses might quickly turn into a nightmare as the man smirks. “Hello, my handsome new neighbor,” the man flirts easily.

Steve won’t play this game though. He’s too smart now to open up this easily. His mouth forms into a tight straight line before he corrects the man, “Steve. And you are?”

“Eddie. A pleasure to meet you,” the neighbor replies with a bright smile as he bows dramatically.

Steve nearly groans at the sight of his head going dow-

No. He’s not doing that. That’s a recipe for disease. Instead, he’ll get to the point. “Nice to meet you, too, Eddie,” Steve ignores how nice the name falls out of his mouth as he continues, “It would be even nicer if you closed your windows or turned down your amps this late at night.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, and he glances down at his watch. “It’s ten o’clock.”

Steve sighs, “Yes, and I need to sleep.”

The neighbor eyes Steve up and down for a moment. “What if I kept playing?”

Steve has no idea why he says it, maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, tiredness from the move, or the fact that his neighbor is a bit overwhelmingly hot. But he answers, “Then you’re starting a war.”

It’s clearly the wrong thing to say because the tampered down mischief in Eddie’s eyes light up. He holds out his hand, and Steve reluctantly takes it. “War it is,” Eddie says with a shake of his hand. “Goodnight, Steve.” Eddie squeezes his hand one time then releases it. The door is closed before Steve can process what’s happening.

With a sigh, Steve makes his way back to his house. Before he can make it there, the loud music already starts blasting again.

A little crazy is definitely bad.

Nearly an hour later, the music continues as Steve desperately tries to put a pillow over his head to block it out. He’s never been one that’s able to sleep with loud noises, but, no matter what, he will still wake up early in the morning and be unable to fall back asleep.

He groans and turns to the clock he ended up unpacking instead of sleeping. A few seconds until eleven o’clock. He watches as the seconds tick by, and as soon as it hits eleven the music stops. Strange.

But then the music continues again, and Steve nearly screams. But then he realizes… it’s different. It’s softer as if he’s playing a lullaby. And as much as Steve hates to admit it, it’s kind of lulling him to sleep.

It’s definitely not on purpose though. Even from their brief interaction, Eddie doesn’t seem to be the type to go easy when calling war. Maybe he’s just trying to get into Steve’s head.

As the soft music drones on, Steve finds himself drifting off to thoughts about his new neighbor.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next morning, Steve wakes up to the sight of the sun rising and blinding him through his windows. He needs to hang up his curtains. He stretches and slowly gets out of bed knowing he won’t be able to go back to sleep.

Time to start unpacking. He makes his way to the garage and peaks out the window on his way. All of Eddie’s curtains are drawn, and Steve doubts that he’ll be awake for hours.

When he opens the garage door, he spots something… interesting. Something that will make Eddie’s life a little miserable…

A lawnmower.

Now, Steve knows the lawn doesn’t really need to be mowed at the moment. But to get revenge… it’s worth it.

He still waits a few hours until it’s a somewhat reasonable hour for mowing. He doesn’t want the other neighbors hating him. He decides to start up the lawnmower right next to the window Eddie left open the night before.

A few seconds later, Steve sees the curtains yanked open and the window slammed down. He lets himself smirk a little at the mini tantrum. As he’s finishing up the first strip, he hears the front door to Eddie’s house slam shut even over the lawnmower.

Steve turns the other way to face his and Eddie’s houses as he mows the next strip. He glances up and waves with a big smile. Eddie is swamped in a large black blanket and squinting, or rather glaring as if the sun had personally offended him.

Steve stops the lawnmower and takes a minute to gloat. As the noise dies down, Steve asks, “Not a morning person?”

Eddie just frowns at him. It looks as if he’s taking all his brain power to come up with a response. His voice, low and raspy with sleep replies, “I would be if I had a better view.”

Steve huffs but looks down at his shirt that’s already starting to get a little damp with sweat. The morning sun in the summer is overwhelmingly hot, and Steve doesn’t want the farmer’s tan. He winks at Eddie before stripping his shirt off and tossing it at him.

“Better?” Steve asks as the shirt hits Eddie and falls on the deck.

“Much better, thank you,” Eddie says and has the nerve to join the little skeleton on his porch to sit and watch as Steve mows.

Steve tries not to think too much about it, but he’s overly aware of the attention. Not that he doesn’t like it, but he feels like he’s not winning the war. Time to call in Robin for reinforcement.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next few days pass by with Eddie playing loudly every night until eleven o’clock when he finally starts playing soft tunes that lull Steve to sleep. Steve pays him back by one morning mowing Eddie’s lawn while he watches. The next morning, he spends weed whacking his own yard, and the next day is spent weed whacking Eddie’s. Every time, Eddie is woken up but sits outside.

If Steve is being completely honest, the music helps him sleep, so he doesn’t feel like he’s losing the war too bad. But today is the day he figures out how to win because it finally worked in Robin’s schedule for her to come over later.

And after Steve shares the whole story after dramatically telling her it’s too much to share over the phone, he regrets it as Robin bursts out laughing. “You’re telling me,” Robin stops to laugh again, “You’re telling me that you’re complaining about going to bed an ‘hour later,’ but the reason you go to bed early is because you struggle to fall asleep. And his music is actually helping you, so you’re basically going to sleep at the same time. Plus, you’re doing his yard work while he ogles you, and you think this is a war?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what this is,” Steve says seriously. No other explanation.

“No, this is a weird mating ritual. God, your neighbors must hate you,” Robin comments before laughing again.

Steve sighs, “Robin, I seriously want to win against this guy. I mean, I even nicely asked him to stop playing so late.”

Robin eyes him. “Did you really?”

“Probably not,” Steve answers honestly, knowing it’s no use to lie to Robin. She figures out everything anyway.

“Here’s a plan,” Robin says opening a box and looking through it. “Why don’t you just ask Eddie’s neighbor what they do when he plays late at night? They clearly have some solution. And the true way to win the ‘war’ is by letting it not affect you anymore. Then, you don’t have to do yard work, and you’ll be taking away his view in the morning.”

…honestly, it’s a great plan. It really is. So much so that it’ll probably stop this whole war thing in its tracks. “No, I have to win this thing,” Steve replies instead of agreeing.

Robin sighs and grabs him by the wrist. “Come with me.” Instead of giving him the option, she practically drags him out the door. “Now, we’re going to meet this next-door neighbor of the infamous Eddie and give you a reasonable solution before you do anything irrational.”

Before Steve can disagree, Robin has him dragged out the door and two houses down. She knocks on the door. “And maybe you’ll see that the solution was so simpl-”

The door opens and out comes the other neighbor. Steve watches as Robin’s jaw drops as she takes in the sight of the shorter girl with curly hair and big blue eyes. “Hi?” The girl says.

Robin’s mouth opens and closes.

“Hey,” Steve says and reaches out his hand to greet her. “I’m your neighbor two houses down, and this is my best friend Robin. Sorry for stopping by in the evening. She was just telling me that I needed to introduce myself to some of the people in the neighborhood. Right, Robin?” Steve prompts when he notices that the girl is eyeing Robin too.

“I’m Nancy,” the neighbor says with a smile. She reaches her hand out to Robin.

“Robin,” Robin blurts out and takes a moment to shake Nancy’s hand.

The two girls shake hands for an embarrassingly long time. And Steve hates to interrupt for Robin’s sake, but he has to ask, “So, we were wondering how you dealt with Eddie’s music at night.” He cringes as he takes in how blunt he is, but he’s honestly curious.

Nancy laughs and replies, “Honestly, it was much worse before you moved. He would play until the early AMs.”

Steve thinks she must be wrong. Maybe he continues playing that lullaby stuff through the night. “You mean the softer lullaby stuff, right?”

Nancy shakes her head with a small smile. “Not at all. I’ve never heard him play like that before. Then again, my solution is noise cancelling headphones.”

Robin smacks Steve on the arm, “I told you the solution was simple. Plus, this really doesn’t sound like war, does it?”

Nancy leans against her doorway and asks, “Is doing his yard work supposed to be war?”

“That’s exactly what I said! See, Steve,” Robin says with a bright smile that Steve notices catches Nancy’s eye.

“Fine, then you two can see what happens when I don’t do anything tomorrow morning,” Steve says resting his hand on his jutted-out hip. Robin’s lip twitches as she holds back on making fun of him for the “mom stance.”

Robin smiles and says, “Well, I don’t have anywhere to be tonight or tomorrow morning, so I will stay the night.”

“I don’t have anywhere for you to sleep so you can’t,” Steve lies, knowing exactly where the air mattress is packed away.

“You can stay here,” Nancy suggests. “I’ll also be up early to spy on the drama.”

Steve recognizes the exact moment Robin processes what she’s said as her eyes widen a bit. “Promise I’m not a murderer,” Nancy says with a wink that seems to further melt Robin’s brain.

As much as Steve doesn’t want to give Robin more reason to make fun of him in the future, he has to give it to Nancy for how direct she is. He thinks he’s gonna like this girl.

“Well, we’ll go grab Robin’s stuff, and she’ll be back shortly. I’m going to crash pretty soon before the show starts,” Steve says with a smile. “It was very nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you, Steve. I’ll see you soon, Robin,” Nancy says with a wave as she closes the door.

“Holy shit.”

“Robin, please save your freak out for a few moments when we get back inside my house. She can see you through the windows.”

Robin whispers under her breath a few more expletives on their quick walk back. “Holy shit!” Robin yells as they get inside.

Oh boy.

A few pacing freak outs, a quick pep talk, and a lot of fixing hair and makeup in the bathroom mirror later and Robin is finally on her way to Nancy’s. Steve watches through his window as she makes her way down the street. He has no idea how the hell it happened, but he’s happy for her.

…hopefully Nancy isn’t a serial killer…

Okay, maybe it’s a bad idea, but Steve needs to ask Eddie. He makes his way out his back door and sneaks over to Eddie’s house to the side window that’s already slightly open. He knocks on it a few times.

Eddie opens the curtains and lifts up the window some more. “Why hello Romeo. Why are you at my window instead of the door? Not that I’m complaining of course.”

“Nancy and my friend are spying on me. But I needed to ask if Nancy is a serial killer.”

Eddie stares at him for a moment. “Have you met Nancy?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know she isn’t a serial killer,” Eddie replies. “Is Robin the girl you were walking and holding hands with earlier?”

“Is that jealousy I’m hearing?”

Eddie shrugs. “Just trying to get in the head of the enemy.” It’s clear that Eddie is trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing but is failing to do so.

Rather than torture him by not answering, Steve quickly insists, “She’s my best friend. And she’s also staying the night at Nancy’s.”

Eddie sits on the window ledge. “Do they know each other?”

“Just met,” Steve says with a wide smile.

Eddie laughs and Steve can’t help but join him. Gosh he looks gorgeous.

Nope. Enemies. Right.

“I always knew Nancy had it in her. So, Robin’s… cool, right? I’ve got to watch out for Nance’s sake,” Eddie says and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. Steve has the urge to tuck in the other side as well.

“Yeah. She’s great. Incredible really. Always has had my back,” Steve says trying not to gush too much. He needs to get out of this conversation fast before he does something dumb like continue it as if they are friends. “Well, I’m heading off to bed.”

“And I’m heading off to practice,” Eddie says with a wink. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, Eddie,” Steve replies and holds eye contact with him for a moment as he walks away.

Ending this war will probably be a good thing.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next morning, Steve wakes up at his usual time, but instead of going to his garage, he starts to go through the boxes he hasn’t unpacked. He stares at the pile and sighs, “Yeah, this is gonna suck.”

A few hours later, and there’s a knock at Steve’s door. Probably Robin bored because nothing is happening.

He makes his way to the door and opens it. Not Robin. “Hey, Eddie. What’s up?” Steve asks, leaning against the doorway.

Eddie is weirdly not wrapped up in a blanket. He has his hands in the pockets of black, ripped jeans and rocks back on his heels. “I was just… checking if you’re okay.”

Steve stares at him for a moment and takes in the slight look of worry all over his face. He nods, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Eddie nods back and glances down. “I was just worried because… you weren’t waking me up with the usual ruckus. Thought something must've happened."

"Just unpacking this morning instead," Steve says with a shrug. Better to play it off as if it's nothing rather than giving Eddie the impression of the feelings that have already started to form.

"Right, well. I'll... head back then," Eddie says with a little wave. He makes it about two steps back before he turns around. "Is this about the music? I'll stop playing so late if it's really bothering you."

This is the part where Steve is supposed to say yes to this, send Eddie on his way, then celebrate. But after four days of this routine and so many nights of restful sleep... "No, it's not... it's not that. It’s um...” Steve trails off at a loss for words. “The war’s still on.”

Eddie smiles but it doesn’t seem entirely genuine. “Ah, getting in my head I see. I’ve gotta hand it to you, Steve, you aren’t just looks.”

Steve watches as Eddie leaves, shoulders tense as he walks back to his house. He catches sight of two figures two doors down waving at him. Robin and Nancy look like they’re huddled together, and shit, if Robin can do it so can Steve.

“Eddie!” Steve yells out. Eddie stops in his tracks and slowly turns around. “How about we make a peace treaty over dinner tonight?”

Eddie’s face slowly lights up with a genuine smile. “I’d really like that.”

“Finally!” A voice that sounds a lot like Nancy yells breaking the moment a bit. There’s loud laughter and a celebratory screech that is definitely Robin.

“Tell me,” Eddie says walking toward Steve’s porch, “How does one deal with loud and annoying neighbors?”

Steve laughs. “I have no idea, but I think my answer and Nancy’s will be very different.”

“Oh yeah? What are your answers?” Eddie asks, now walking up the steps.

“Well, you have to ask other questions first like: Are they one hundred percent your type to the point that you start a war with them that turns into you doing their lawn shirtless just to get their attention while they lull you to sleep at night?”

Eddie dramatically taps a finger on his chin and squints off as if he’s searching for the answer. “I have to say that Nancy... her answer will most likely be ‘no’ to that. I’m not sure though. Maybe we should ask her.”

Steve snorts and shoves at Eddie’s arm. Eddie locks eyes with him for a moment, and Steve can’t help but wonder if he could get lost in them forever. “Eddie?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes out as his eyes trace over Steve’s face and track down to his lips.

“Want to make that peace treaty over breakfast instead of dinner?”

Eddie smiles. “Absolutely,” he says and walks past Steve into his house before he’s invited inside. Steve can’t even be upset about it.

A glance down the street and Steve sees that Nancy is also heading inside but Robin trails behind looking towards Steve. He lifts his hand up and Robin does the same resulting in a quick air high five. They’re going to have a lot to talk about later.

My bday ficlet to you <3

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #stranger things #robin buckley #steddie fanfic #ronance

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aristia-pjoheadcanons · 4 months

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Hi! I wanted to ask for Percy x daughter of Apollo headcanons? Like best friends to lovers or wtv you feel like! Thank you but no worries if not 💕💕

☆Percy Jackson x Daughter of Apollo☆

Authors note: This is so sweet, i love best friends to lovers. (also, not me literally searching up what wtv means only to find out it means whatever and its not a trope lol)

you're his agapitós, just so you know. maybe he will come up with a nice nickanme and a private nickname for the two of you in private.

The child of Apollo has a bit of a love/hate relationship with their godly parent. On one hand, they admire Apollo's power and grace, but on the other hand, they feel like they can never live up to him.

They often struggle to decide if they should be proud of being his child, or if they should resent him for his high expectations.

Despite this inner turmoil, they do strive to live up to Apollo's ideals and make him proud.

Their relationship with Percy is a bit tense at times, you might often feel that Percy is too overprotective and doesn't let you take risks.

Despite this friction, you both genuinely care about each other deeply.

your bond with him is strong, you are dating a guy who only has eyes for his beloved.

maybe the child of apollo has a friend who is a troublemaker, a trickster and a prankster; which is how you managed to get acquainted with Percy.

Though you might not be a child of the big three or a prodigy like Annabeth, you put on a brave face and take down your foes with your skills, whether its medicine, archery, light - any weapon at all!

perhaps you are a charming person and can convicne a bunch of people to do something, even if you dont have charmspeak.

you are known to be the mediater during fights, someone people can rely on for good input since you arent biased. Which could be useful when dealing with the constant drama of demigod life.

capture the flag is the time for you to shine.

(I had to google this);The child of Apollo has the power to harness the energy of the sun, allowing them to create destructive solar blasts, drain the power of others, or even create an aura of warmth.

So, imagine the reader just harnessing the power of a STAR to make themselves overpowered in battle, landing accurate shots with their bow or even straight up knives, becoming faster and agile - flexible, moving so fast it looks natural.

heck, this type of fighting style is for sure gonna make percy stare and admire you.

I IMAGINE that you have a warm body because of the godly power that runs throuhg you, so if you were to hold percys hand (i imagine that hes kind of cold) youre a perfect pair.

demigod life is crazy and percy keeps getting dragged on quests, what if you join him and break the "3-people maximum in a party" rule? he would not care, he wants you near him because he trusts you and your abilities.

healing properties would also be nice but dont get too stressed, percy would never out you on the spot to make you uncomfortable.

percy is a feeler, he understands people because no one took the time to understand him, other than people really close to him. if you even furrow your brow in the slightest, this guy will try to think of anything that happened that day to make you upset or annoyed, and try to think of a solution. his solution is to engage in an awkward convo and give a compliment/pat on the back, but hes so goddamn awkward its funny but you cant laugh because you kind of want percy to keep doing right?

so you start doing the same, sit next to him when hes sitting alone, make your way toward him when he's literally just standing there completely comfortable with being alone;

but no, you want him to know you're there. give him a small smile and he would see you as somebody he can tlak to about his feelings! heck!!

during the pjo-series he never really lets himself feel too much, and instead undermines his feelings to the point he starts to ignore his on needs.

luckily, you are his anchor too. keep him on his toes but not in the way annabeth or the way his mother does; but in another way that can be even seen as intimite, if thats the right word for it.

caressing his back and wiping away his tears but letting him know that "hey, im not wiping them away because I want you to stop, but i'm wiping them away to let you know you're safe and not alone".

by the way, that last line?, would definetly make percy stop and stare at you like a deer in headlights and just try to process this whole entire situation. i dont know why but its funny for me to imagine him being angry or sad and just suddenly stopping, his eyebrows shoot up and he's staring at you as if he cant believe somebody does actually care about what he feels.

percy is a feeler who wont let himself feel, but you are there to remind him that in order for him to even confront his enemies, his foes - he needs to make an ally of himself first.

"dont make yourself your own enemy"

"*again percy is at a loss for words*"

beautiful and powerful, courages but not too aggressive, sentimental and empathetic, are words to describe the reader (definetly not percys own internal thoughts about you cough cough).

you stand out on your own, not because of who your godly parent is, but because of who you are. thats powerful and enough in itself. you dont need to be someone important to the prophecy or the war, you dont need to be someone great. you hold value in your worth for being you.

I feel like at some point you want percy to get out off his head for one second and look at himself the way you look at him.

it's up to you to determine what kind of person you want to be and what you want to make of your own life. and not because of some great prophecy.

Percy has always tried to do the best he can to live up to his destiny, but his own sense of self-worth and identity doesn't rely on those outside factors. percy values freedom and choice, which is why in the end he chose you because you make an impact on his life and his place in the world.

percy really isnt that difficult to get along with. if we tke a look at kane chronicles, he got to know the main character and was somewhat comfortable with him after fighting alongside him for literally 30-40minutes. the problem is that he never really opens up, maybe a result of his uppringing and unresolves trauma - you need to remind him that: control is not the same as suppression.

you would turn his world upside down for the better and his way thinking.

if its difficult through words, you write it down and make an essay about how great he is and how much more he can do with just being himself. he would read this in his room and on the ride home from long-island over and over again, at first he would be shocked - then flattered, happy and somewhat flustered.

he finds this compassionate side of you cute, that you are never really aggressive but are when it comes to letting him know that he is worth it and worth so much more.

he finds this side of you endearing, you speaking up (maybe not always but when the time is right) you stand tall with your chest full of words and you speak.

percys world would transform because of you. he cant be attracted to your light. it might seem like a normal light but it sparks full of life until it completely takes over before he can even understand whats going on.

His perspective and outlook on life would be completely altered by your compassionate and uplifting words.

He would be entranced by your light, drawn in by its brightness and energy, until it finally consumes him completely.

It's a powerful and transformative process that he might not even be able to comprehend or resist.

With you by his side, he would be transformed into something greater than he ever believed possible.

percy would in the end find his voice to speak up about his troubles, isntead of cracking a joke or making it seem like a joke.

or like the scene in HOO with Jason - just moving and and changing the subject when he sees that nobody said anythingn to comfort him (this scene makes me a tad-bit sad, he said it himself that he wasn't ok but bc they were exchausted nobody said anything so he just pretended he didnt say anything in the first place). but dont you think this is evidence that he does try to get better with speaking up, but he just needs someone to reach their hand out.

the two of you have a unique and intense connection to one another. percys sense of duty combined with your passionate nature, makes both an intriguing and powerful couple.

percy would be attached to you; your energy and he would feel inspired and motivated for bringing out a new side of himself.

at some point, percy stops looking shocked when you scold him for not caring about his feelings and while you go on a rant about how he's so important, he instead has a small smile on his face while hes looking up at you through his bangs.

reader: goes on a rant about percys emotions and how great he really is, not bc of his father but because of the way he truly and deeply cares for people and is even willing to look past past-mistakes

*literally batting his eyelashes because butterflies keep dancing in his stomach but he cant stop staring at you*

annabeth would exchange a knowing-look and smile when you make eye contact with her during one of your speeches, and you feel shy because you're realize that people are staring and PERCY IS STARING WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING so he quickly finish the speech and walk fast out of there.

percy strives to be the best partner he can be.

As Percy begins to gain more confidence and express himself in a more authentic way, he would be more honest and upfront about his feelings, including his feelings for the child of Apollo.

When given the moment to confess, he would seize the opportunity and kiss the child of Apollo with a slightly sheepish smile, perhaps even a tad embarrassed about putting himself out there so directly. However, he would also be proud of his newfound confidence and would look forward to growing and developing this relationship with you....

the type of guy to be entranced by you when you speak for multiple reasons; hes inlove and loves you, he loves the way you speak, he cant stop staring at you face light up when you talk about something you consider worth of value, he cant stop staring at your lips.

i feel like every time you lick your lips during a convo with him or in a group setting, his eyes automatically flicker downwards to stare at them for a good second.

he whips his head around when he hear your voice and turns his body to the direction you are, even when someone is trying to talk to him.

blushing around your affections. this guy would get giddy at night thinking about the fact that you just took a leaf out of his hair or straightened up his shirt.

when you are around his home turf he wants to grab your attention by any means. his favourite thing is if he's able to grab your attention when you're talkign to someone, and makes you stop mid-sentence because of whatever he's doing.

he would strut over to you and you think hes just gonna talk to you like normal but he surges ofrward and give you a peck, and he watches your reaction as when he pulls away. his insecurities are still there but hes getting better.

he likes it especially, another favourite of his, is if he makes you flustered. whether you try to ignore him or you start breathing faster (which he can tell btw) or if you have a certain habit of touching something or somewhere on your body, he likes to pay attention and be attentive to the little things about you. he needs to know everything.

okay, his ALL TIME FAVOURITE, is if you try to suppress that beautiful smile. your mouth twitches, the corners of your eyes crinkle just a tiny bit, you lick you lips and try to pretend that you're cool - but then you let your guard down and let yourself smile.

he absolutely loves it when you look at him after that. your gaze is different from usual. of course, you always look at him in a way that only lovers do, but this look in your eyes is for him and him only. that special look of love and devotion in your eyes is his.

he loves every moment of vulnerability and weakness between the two of you, he likes to savour every moment with you...

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smoochhyuka · 3 months

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What about bf!anton with a loud s/o hes so soft spoken how would he be

Such a cute idea! I am a little bit of a loud person myself, so this is quite self-indulgent, haha.

Anton with a loud s/o

You compliment each other perfectly.

○o。content warnings! SFW, gn!reader, established relationship, mention of alcohol, reader is described as loud, talkative, earnest, free-spirited and a little crazy/quirky, edited for spelling

You both struggle with volume, you're just on the polar opposites of the spectrum. Therefore, you can relate to each other well, always being told you're too quiet/loud, being criticized for your voices, or being teased about it.

Still, it might seem odd that someone as gentle and introverted as Anton would date someone as loud and chaotic as you, but you compliment each other perfectly.

He loves how enthusiastic you are, even about the littlest things, although you often startle him with your sudden outbursts.

"ANTON, look at that cute squirrel over there!" you squeal, tugging at his hand. Your boyfriend, clutching his heart with the other, breathes out heavily. He opens his eyes again after the initial shock, missing the squirrel. (the drama)

You never fail to hype him up. If he shows you something, whether it be a new song, something he decorated or his new muscle growth -- you're not afraid to praise him to the heavens and back. At first, he's shy about it, but later on in the relationship he'll take the praise, he might even make a few snarky remarks.

Since you're so honest about your feelings and thoughts, Anton also feels comfortable speaking a lot more openly about them around others, knowing it's okay to show vulnerability.

Thinks it's cute when you're acting a little crazy, dancing around the house or yapping until his ears bleed. He's seriously memorized by you, he's never bored. Sometimes he'll just sit on the sofa, cuddling a pillow or a plushie, and watch you/listen to you with a big grin on his face.

You always throw in a few compliments or confessions too, just so casually, it always makes his heart pound.

Your laugh is funnier than the joke itself. It's insane sounding, and he's living for it, always recording you when you're in a fit of laughter. Every time he misses you on tour, or if he's low on energy, he will just listen to these recordings.

Speaking of laughing, you two always have something to at least giggle about. Every week, you have a new running gag, meme or catchphrase you two repeat until everyone is sick of you two.

Around you, he feels so alive, you encourage him so much to step out of his comfort zone. He gets embarrassed easily, but when you're around, all shame leaves his body. Because you won't judge him, and everyone who does gets shut down by you.

He will match your energy after a few drinks, though, sometimes even surpassing you. You'll run around the streets, blasting music, dancing on park benches until the sun rises.

Naturally, some days he's quieter than the others, and he can always rely on you to make up for it, making sure he's heard. If it's an especially awful day (e.g. he's sick or in a bad mood), he'll just whisper to you what he wants, and you're announcing it to everyone in a 2-mile radius.

You always listen to him. Sometimes, especially in group settings, people tend to just not to hear him and not really care about what he said in the first place, but you always lean in when he says something and ask him to repeat himself if you didn't catch it. And you actually engage with it as well! Or bring it up later in the conversation, if it's relevant.

If you're speaking too loud in a setting where it's inappropriate, he'll grab your hand and squeeze it a few times, or maybe rub your lower back/shoulders if you didn't get the hint. He knows how humiliating it is to get called out publicly, so he'll always try to get you to relax by caressing you first.

He calls you his "little megaphone", my "crazy boy/girl", "professional yapper" or my "background/white noise" (lovingly <3)

As an introvert, he loves to have quiet moments, where he can just engage in some brain-dead activity... "brain-dead activity" = watching trash TV while listening to s/o's commentary. If he ACTUALLY needs some time for himself, he'll go write some music in his studio, knowing you won't join him (you are aware he can't write music while you're spinning around in a chair behind him, talking about lunch).

His social battery doesn't decrease with you. Everyone is surprised when Anton tells them (looking refreshed and energized, mind you) that you two spent the whole weekend together. They can't believe he didn't die from feeling overwhelmed.

He worries so much when you're quiet, or talk a lot more quietly, and he misses your chatter. It's a constant distraction, but in a good way. A vacation kind of distraction. He will talk in your place, filling the silence with random topics, hoping you might get distracted by your issues as well.

You learn to enjoy the quiet moments in life, and he gets more courageous. <3

#commisions open #smoochwrites #anton x reader #anton fluff #anton soft hours #anton soft thoughts #riize x reader #riize fluff #riize soft hours #riize soft thoughts #anton imagines #anton lee

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 4 months

Text

Metalhead!König at a festival

Tis the season – Festival season – SFW and NSFW

More Stuff in the Masterlist

(cw: alcohol/drugs, semi-public sex, smut, MDNI 18+)

On the way to the festival, I’m living the best passenger princess life, sitting beside him, navigating the GPS, feeding him snackies (he loves little brezels and gummyworms) and most importantly DJing the whole time while driving to the festival. Songs of all the bands we want to go see live are blasting from the speakers and when I start to sing along, König chimes in.

He has an old VW van T4 that he rebuilt himself, so that the back of it actually transforms into a quite comfy bed, one that even accommodates his size.

The trunk of the van is filled with gear and gadgets, there's nothing that he didn't think about.

A plastic pavilion to get a little bit of shade in the blistering summer sun. A camping table and two chairs (even though I don't know why he bothered to get me my own because he always coaxes me to sit in his lap) ((maybe that's why we have a second one because I don't think the small thing can withstand our combined weight for long)). A portable sound system. A bunch of hardware tools, a camping cooker and some equipment for it. Like for example the little espresso can because even at a festival the big guy needs his proper coffee (and not some kind of "instant crap" – his words).

At least I could hold him off from bringing our own beer tap because that would've been ridiculous.

And of course, he brought a grill, he would've even brought one if it weren't allowed.

I mean, he's Austrian and even though the neighbors from Germany are much more known for their fondness for grilling as soon as the temperatures rise over 10 degrees celsius, he still loves it.

I'm just rolling my eyes and laughing when he starts to light the coals pretty early in the morning. But I'm not complaining because he chooses to do so shirtless, showing off his broad muscled chest and the plethora of tattoos on his torso.

The black cargo shorts are hanging low on his hips, the belt holding them in place, the waistband of his boxershorts showing a little bit which accentuates the V of his hips. And don't even get me started on the happy trail leading down.

I'm ogling him shamelessly, sitting in my chair and making some coffee on the burner for us.

(He's also wearing some of his old combat boots, and he reassured me that the weird looking stains on them aren't actually blood. (I still don't believe him))

He looks like such a metalhead dad as he's standing at the grill, a beer in hand and just happily humming along to the melodies blasting from the speaker.

It makes me happy to see him like this because I don't know much about his work, he rarely talks to me about it and it has to be a burden, but right now he seems like he doesn't have a care in the world.

I catch him grinning at me, shaking the almost empty beer can and downing the last bit. I giggle, jump up and go get him a new one from the little freezer box.

With two fresh cans of beer, I stroll over to him, handing him one. His arm wraps around me and I can already see the mischief sparkling in his eyes as he's looking down on me. "Ex oder Franzos.", he tells me, taunting me. (He told me once what this means ‘either down your beer or you're french’ which apparently is an insult?? I don't know what the Austrians are on either)

"Nooo, I’m not gonna shotgun with you right now.", I wail.

"Oh, come on, it's just one beer.", he grins at me.

I put my hands on my hips, looking up at him all scolding. "Well, maybe one beer isn't a big deal for you, big guy." He just laughs and nonetheless drinks half his beer with one big gulp, the little show-off. Ever since he knows what a lightweight I am, he likes to tease me about it. Stupid big tall man.

The sun shines down like crazy which gives me the opportunity to apply sunscreen too him as often as I can.

"I get the feeling you're not doing this for the well-being of my skin.", he tells me, sideeyeing me while my hands move over his shoulders and pecs, making sure every inch is covered.

"I don't know what you mean.", I answer innocently, making him pull his hair out of the way with a nod, and moving on to his tattooed back, skimming over the smooth skin with my fingertips, massaging over the tense muscles.

When I'm finished, finally having applied enough sunscreen on the huge man, he snatches up the bottle, puts a little dollop on his hands and goes straight for my boobs.

"We can't have you getting a sunburn either!", he explains with a serious expression on his face while he shamelessly kneads my bikini-clothed breasts, in the name of sun protection.

Food in the stage area is expensive but that doesn't stop him from buying me everything I think looks good. I need to actually hold him off from getting another portion of the little pancakes because I'm so full, I feel like bursting and I still wanna be able to mosh.

"But what about some ice cream?", he suggests, pointing at a little cart in the vicinity. "It might help us cool a bit down."

I tilt my head to the side, thinking about it, but only for a moment. "Okay, I think there still is room for some ice cream.", I agree and we make our way in the direction of the ice cream vendor.

“Oh, wait, we need to get more water!”, I yell out as I see the water station. I pull him with me by his hand, filling our water bottles and then taking off my shirt to wet it.

“Now, what is this? Wet t-shirt contest?”, he asks with a dirty smile on his face, his eyes travelling down my body.

“Yeah, you wanna join?”, I ask him wiggling my brows, which makes him laugh and shed his shirt in a second. He lets water run over it as well and then wrings the shirt out over his body, the water dripping down his pecs and abs, and I can’t help but stare with a slack jaw. He laughs again when he sees the expression on my face, but he puts the shirt back on.

He pulls me into him, pressing a little kiss to my temple, our wet clothes sticking together. “Come on, let’s get you that ice cream, sweet cheeks.”, he says, giving my ass a few loving pats.

We try and go to as many bands as possible which is becoming quite the workout for me. By midnight my feet are already hurting like crazy and I make the mistake of mentioning it to König because he demands to carry me now. After some discussion, we come to the agreement that a piggyback ride would suffice.

So now I'm clinging to König's back, my muddy shoes dirtying his pants with the way my legs are hugging his hips. His arms are reaching back, the hands crossed under my ass supporting my weight.

Festivals can get pretty filthy but that doesn't stop him from trying to get into my pants. The solution to the filthyness? Going showering.

Most of the festivals I've ever been to don't actually separate between men's and women's shower, so that's not an issue when we slip into one of the cabins together. Still, some people around gave us funny looks.

It gets crowded in there even for two people, especially if one of the two is König. I press my body against his and squeal as he turns on the shower and we get doused with an icecold spray.

He just laughs, not fazed by it at all – duh, but I am someone who german-speaking would call a 'Warmduscher' (someone who likes to shower warm, which is meant as an insult).

His mouth finding mine shuts me up and wandering hands get rid of the dirt and grime on our bodies. I'm still washing away soapy suds while König's caresses drop lower and lower until his fingertips stroke over my pussy, finding my clit. I shoot him a look like "Seriously?! Right here and now?", but the corners of my mouth curl up. The knowing expression on his face doesn't waiver while he draws circles on the sensitive spot, getting me wet and needy for his fingers to slip inside me.

I hold onto him, my hands digging into his shoulders, as he pulls up one of my legs and finger-fucks me. The cold water is forgotten by now.

The palm of his hand pressing against the soft mound, stroking over the clit with every push inside me. His fingertips reaching that certain spot, brushing over it repeatedly, which has me gasping for air in no time. “Ja, fuck, come for me.”, he whispers against my lips. My thighs start to tremble, and moans escape my throat.

“You need to shut up, Liebes, or the people around us will know.”, he grunts, letting go of my leg and clasping the hand over my mouth to muffle my sounds. The realization that there’s other people in the cabins beside us, that the stalls aren’t anywhere near a soundproof barrier, that someone will probably hear the lewd sounds, the realization sends a zap of tingly arousal down my spine. His fingers move faster, hitting me deep inside, and I come around them screaming into his palm.

When my orgasm fades, I snuggle into him, and he holds me up pressing soft kisses to the top of my head and my face. He takes the camping bath towel he brought (you know, the ones that are microfiber and dry really fast? Of course, he has stuff like that) and starts to wrap me in it.

“Wait, what about you?”, I ask, still panting a bit, aware of his hard dick pressing against my belly.

“You’re already shivering wia a Lampe Schwoaf (like a lamb’s tail), we need to get you into the warmth again.”, he says, rubbing me down with the towel, the strokes of his big hands and the fabric tickling me a bit, which is making me giggle.

He leans down a bit, getting to my legs as well, still drying me off, and his eyes find mine, arousal and need glinting in them, a smirky grin forming on his face. “And don’t worry, I’m gonna get my fill of you later.”

In between bands, we’re sitting on the lawn, a little bit away from the stages. The sky is tinted in a rosy-orange blush, blending into the dark of the night that’s about to come. Even when I’m sitting on his thigh, I almost have to tilt my head back to look at him. He sees my little stare and smiles. “What?”, he asks.

I don’t break eye contact as I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”, he asks, seeming a little loopy.

I shrug, the smile on my face only getting wider. “I’m just happy to be here.” My hand reaches up to boop his nose, and the look on his face when he goes cross-eyed makes me laugh. “With you.”, I add, still giggling, feeling silly and honestly – a little lovey-dovey.

His smile matches mine as he grabs my face with his hand and plants a big kiss on my lips. “Me too, du Scherzkeks.”, he mumbles against my lips. (literally 'joking cookie', meaning jokester)

Straightening back up again, he eyes the joint in my other hand. “You still smoking that?”, he asks.

I shake my head and hand him the roach. He takes it and puffs the last bit of weed, inhaling deeply, holding in the breath. Before he can exhale, I grab his face with both my hands, pressing my lips to his. He chuckles, deepening the kiss, letting out the smoke as his tongue brushes against mine, and I taste him and the grassy fume.

We’re still sitting in the same spot an hour later, giggling with each other, sharing the biggest portion of fries we could find, while we listen to the music blasting from the stage speakers.

When we're back at the van, I fall into the mattress, bury my head into the pillow and groan as my body relaxes into the softness. My god, I will never be able to sleep on anything less comfortable when at a festival.

König's chuckle behind me makes me aware before his hands grasp my hips and pull them upwards. He pushes my pants down and his mouth into my pussy. I gasp into the sheets gripping them, squirming against his tongue, when he sloppily licks me, lapping at my wetness, dipping into my ass as well, until I’m making a total mess on his face.

He gets greedier, pulling out his dick and fucking me from behind, his fingers digging into my hips. The pace he’s going at makes the whole car shake, and somebody passing by could notice, but I'm counting on the darkness to conceal us, to hide what we're doing in the back of the van, especially when he flips us, and I’m on top now.

He's splayed out on the mattress looking up at me, satisfied smirk and hooded lids, as he grabs my wrists, securing them behind my back, and tells me to ride him. I whine and moan a little while I start moving up and down his length because the muscles in my legs are already aching from all the dancing, jumping and moshing, but his dirty ramblings spur me on: "Fuck, you feel so good, just like that." and "Harder, ride me harder." and “Ah, scheiße, i- that’s it, good fucking girl.”

He lifts up my shirt with the other hand and brings the fabric up to my mouth, gesturing me to bite into it. He pulls down the bikini top I’m still wearing underneath, freeing my boobs.

"Hm, such a little slut, getting fucked in the back of a van.", he murmurs, his eyes glued to my bouncing titties, while he fucks up into me, hitting spots deep inside me that pull obscene sounds from my throat. The little bit of fabric between my teeth can't damp them down. I try to hold onto the last bit of sanity, but then he pinches my nipple, hard, the sensations flowing over me, and I come on his dick, straining against his hold on me, shuddering while the orgasm wrecks through me.

My thighs are pressing together and König’s hands are the only thing that’s holding me up. While I’m still coming down, he pulls me against him. I sigh snuggling against his chest when he rolls us over.

“Oh no, Liebes, we’re not done yet.”, he chuckles, pushing into me again, his lips finding the sensitive spots on my neck.

A little ray of sunshine falls on my face through the window of the van, the early morning light making me open my eyes. I try to move to escape the brightness, but I can’t move my body. I turn my head and open my eyes, seeing König’s arm and legs draped over me, the big hand splayed out over my belly. Well, that explains it. The big guy is still sleeping, the soft sounds of his breathing filling the space around us. He’s facing me, a relaxed expression on his face, his brows that always seem to be furrowed turned up a little bit. I don’t think I have seen him this peaceful yet.

My lips curl up into a smile and I reach out, cupping his cheek, softly stroking over his jaw, because I can’t help myself. Normally he shaves pretty often, a habit he picked up at the military, but somehow, he’s still always wearing a 5 o’clock shadow. Right now, the beard has developed into more of a longer stubble, a few grey hairs in between. And it looks good on him.

Suddenly he’s stirring in his sleep, his lids fluttering as he groans, the big hand moving up to his face to rub the eyes. A little huff escapes my nose and I greet him with a “Good morning, sleepy head”. He groans again because he can be a little ‘Morgenmuffel’ (a little grumpy in the mornings), but opens his eyes to look at me.

“Why are you so cheery this morning, hm?”, he asks me, still blinking the sleep away while a sly smirk is forming on his face. “Oh yeah, that’s right because I fucked you seven ways to Sunday on this mattress.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the little grin on my face. “Yeah, yeah… If I can’t walk to the stages today, it’s your fault, old man.”, I taunt him.

His eyes light up with playful threat and he grabs me, rolling onto me. I yelp and giggle as his full body weight presses me into the mattress. “Keep running that mouth, Fräulein, and I’m gonna make sure of that.”, he says, his words a dirty promise.

a/n: this should have been a quick little fun drabble, but I got carried away - ah well, it happens <3

#metalhead!könig #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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blossom-works · 6 months

Text

Scared to Lose You

"We live in a scary and uncertain world. I know you say that you won't know what to do with yourself if you ever lost me, but I cannot promise that I will outlive you. Instead, I promise that I will find a way to tell you that I love you every single day of my life. Up until I can no longer walk on this earth. I will make you feel loved when you walk out that door, and I will make you feel loved when you come back home."

When Leon got that call, his heart stopped. He felt the organ in his chest stop beating. His blood ran cold and his brain went blank. Leon wanted to drop to his knees and wail. He wanted to curse the world. He wanted to burn it down. Leon wanted nothing more than to go back to five hours ago and lock you in your shared home. He would beg you not to go on that mission and to stay home with him. Leave everything to your colleagues so you can be in the comforts of his arms, and he, yours.

Everything feels more real when Leon rushes inside the hospital. He does not even care to check in with the front desk. A couple of nurses have to stop him from barging through every door.

"My wife is here! Tell me where she is!"

The nurses are asking Leon to tell them who it is he is looking for, but all he can say is "My wife". Leon needs to see you. He needs to know that you are okay. You have to be okay. You just have to be. You became his reason for living. You taught him how to navigate the world without getting lost in its darkness. You become his reason to live. If he lost his sun, his light in the world, Leon would be consumed by the darkness of the world.

"Leon!" A banged-up woman comes running down the hallway. Dirt covers her face and she has a slight limp to her.

"Tina, where is she! Tell me she's okay!"

Your co-worker and best friend tell the hospital staff that she will handle this. Tina tells them who it is Leon is looking for and they tell him what floor you are on. Leon immediately sprints to the stairs. No time for the elevator. Tina runs behind the man, asking him to slow down but it falls on deaf ears. How can Leon slow down when his wife is on the brink of death? He needs to be by your side as fast as he can.

Leon sees the double doors to the to the surgery wing but Tina blocks off the door before he can bust through them.

"What are you doing Tina? I need to get to her!"

Tina shakes her head. "You need to calm down, Leon."

"Calm down? Calm down! My wife is about to die and you want me to calm down!"

More of your colleagues hold Leon back, but he fights. He is fighting because he needs to see you. He needs you and there is no way he is going to let anyone take you from him, not even death. Leon is your husband. It is his job to protect you and here you are, in surgery, fighting for your life! Your colleagues have to lock Leon in a room away from the other visitors for fear that he may hurt someone or himself. Given his training, it was hard to overwhelm the DSO agent.

"Enough of this, Leon! You can't go batshit crazy, right now!"

"And why not? My wife is fighting for her life and you expect me to just sit and wait!"

"Yes! There is nothing you can do Leon! Let the doctors do their job so they can save her life and you can bring her back home!"

No words leave Leon's mouth. Tina is witnessing a man at what is potentially his lowest. The room they shoved Leon in is a staff lounge room. Instead of sitting in one of the chairs, Leon paces the floor with his hands behind his head.

"What happened, Tina? What the fuck happened out there?"

"Are you going to sit?" Leon glares at your friend. Tina holds her hands up in defense. "Shit went wrong. It was supposed to be an in-and-out type of mission, but we didn't realize that they had rigged the building with explosives. During the raid, they triggered the bombs. She barely made it a couple of feet outside before the bombs went off."

Tina further explains that you collided with a nearby vehicle from the explosion. The blast resulted in a total of thirty-two casualties, thirty-three fatalities and counting. Before you were wheeled off into the surgery ward, the doctors said that you had multiple shrapnel wounds, broken ribs, and potential internal bleeding. Maybe even a collapsed lung.

As Leon hears all of this, he does not care about the dead cops, agents, or civilians. As horrible as that sounds, all Leon cares about is you. You were in that blast and Leon has no idea what your current condition is. When Tina told Leon about your injuries, he wanted to throw up. He wanted to rip someone's face off. Leon felt his skin starting to burn. The air felt suffocating. Leon feels like he is the one dying, not just you.

Oh, God...you are dying. Are you not? You are on a surgical bed being cut open because it is the only way to save your life. Is Leon really going to lose you? No. Please, God, no. Anything but you. Take him! Take his life! Not yours! Not you!

Seeing her best friend's husband about to enter a panic attack, Tina carefully brings him out of his mind. "Leon, she's going to be okay. We both know she's a strong one. She isn't going out like this." Tina keeps talking to Leon, trying to coax him out of his head. Your friend and colleague really hopes that her words are not empty promises. Tina has witnessed your and Leon's love story since the beginning. Your relationship went by fast, but the two of you love each other. You fought the world together, head-on. You fought for each other, not against one another.

Tina manages to shift Leon to the waiting area. She leaves the man to himself as she gets him a cup of water and a snack from the hospital cafeteria. She doubts he will have the appetite to eat something, but it will not hurt. You and Leon took care of Tina when she went through hell, so it is only right to return the favor. Looking at the time, Tina tells Leon that she has to go home to her family. Leon did not acknowledge her, but Tina knew he heard her. Patting his shoulder, she lets him know that she will have her phone on her.

For eleven grueling hours, Leon sat in that waiting area. He only left his seat when he had to use the bathroom or make a brief call. He sent a quick text to Claire, asking her to take care of Shiloh until further notice. Leon refuses to leave this hospital without the knowledge that you will live. When Claire and the rest heard about you, they rushed to the hospital. None of the doctors or nurses have told Leon about you or your condition. No one had answers and it is quickly killing your husband.

'I didn't feel loved this morning so you can't die. You didn't make good on your vow.' Leon lies to himself in desperation.

One person from your mutual friend group would drop food off for Leon. He would only eat a couple bites of the food though. Leon feels that if he eats more than six or seven bites, he may just throw up. He swears that his heart is about to burst out of his chest at any moment. Finally, when the clock reaches 8:34 a.m., a surgeon walks out the double doors.

"Kennedy?"

Leon immediately jumps from his seat and almost corners the medical expert. He demands to know your condition and where you are. If he has to wait any longer then he may just burst through those damn doors himself.

"Your wife is stable, but her condition is still critical. We're going to keep a close eye on her for the next seventy-two hours. We lost her twice during surgery." Oh, Leon wants to throw up so bad when he hears that you died not once, but two times. "She lost a lot of blood and she has bruising all over her body. Internal and external. Her ribs fractured when she collided with the car, but those are actually minor compared to the rest. Your wife had a total of fourteen shrapnel pieces lodged in her body, mainly her back. With your permission, we would like to run a CT scan to ensure that there is no more internal bleeding or organ damage."

Leon immediately nods and signs the stupid papers. Anything for you. Anything that will make sure you will be okay.

"You can see your wife in about ten minutes. I do have to warn you though, she won't look the same." The surgeon pats Leon's back and goes somewhere in the hospital.

The long hours Leon had to wait do not compare to the ten minutes he has to wait until he can see you. These ten minutes feel like ten days. When a nurse escorts Leon to your room, he wants to yell at her to pick up her pace. Why the hell is she walking so slow?

"She's in here."

Leon practically chokes on air when he sees you on that hospital bed. So many tubes are attached to you that are attached to more machines. He has no idea what any of this does, but if it is to keep you alive, fuck it. Attach all the damn tubes and machines to you. Hesitantly, Leon touches your hand. Contrary to your pale complexion, your body still has warmth to it. That piece of knowledge gives Leon some sort of comfort.

The doctor was right though. You look different, and it does not help that you are hooked up to so many machines. Leon stood there, by your bedside. Just holding your hand and caressing the hair on the top of your head, hoping that you get to come home.

Leon spent an entire week at the hospital. Since Claire was caring for Shiloh, she took the liberty to pack him a bag of clothes and toiletries. Everyone knew that Leon would not leave your side even if you asked him to. It takes you about four hours to wake up after your surgery. Your husband swears that his heart was about to burst when he saw your eyelids flutter.

"Hey, gorgeous," Leon whispers sweet nothings in your ears. He tells you how much he worried for you and how much he misses you. He tells you to never scare him like this again. His heart will not be able to handle such panic again.

Your body hurts and it feels stiff. Your throat is dry too. It takes you a couple of minutes to be able to talk, but when you do, your throat is hoarse. You want to sit up but your body is so exhausted after being blown up and rushed into surgery. Leon does everything for you. Need some water? He is lifting the cup to your lips. Are lights too bright? He will adjust the dimmers. Hungry? Let him check with the doctor first. Kiss? No argument here.

This kiss is desperate. Like Leon wants to make sure that you are alive and well. He wants to make sure that it is you he is kissing and not a corpse. So much love transfers from the kiss. Leon kisses you with his fiery heart that burns only for you. When the doctor deems you okay enough to run more scans, Leon is behind the glass watching you. If he could have it his way, he would be in the machine with you.

You suffered a concussion but with some pain relievers, you will be fine. your scans show no sign of internal bleeding or organ damage. Bruising, yes. Lots of bruising and even down to your bones. Your body also suffered small fractures, but nothing life-threatening. In conclusion, you are lucky to be alive.

When the nurse took out the tubes so you only had an IV drip and your heart monitor attached, you wanted to drown yourself in your work. The sons of bitches blew up local officers and federal agents and innocent lives. Lucky for you, your husband already has the information. The people responsible have been caught and will be tried on multiple, federal accounts. Leon tells you about the memorial being held for the people who died in the explosion.

You touch your husband's face. Your thumb traces the bags under his eyes and his hallowed cheeks. His stubble has also grown too. He looks tired.

"You should sleep." Leon shakes off your concern. "I'm okay."

You both know he is not, but a man will not talk if he does not want to. Even if the person who wants him to talk is his wife. When you are cleared to finally leave the hospital, Leon refuses to let you walk. He has your papers and his bag in one hand, and with his other, he carries you like a toddler. Later the same day, he picks up your prescriptions when you fall asleep on your shared bed.

At night though, Leon refuses to fall asleep. He is scared to close his eyes, only to open them and you are not there. He is scared that your being back home is an illusion his mind made up to cope with your death. Every ten or so minutes, Leon sits up so he can watch your chest rise and fall. He gently touches you so as to not wake you up. You catch onto this behavior after being home for three days.

"Leon, you really need to sleep. Your bags are getting heavier and you can barely stand up without wobbling."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I need to make sure you're still alive."

Limping, you bring Leon to your shared bed and shove him to lie in the middle. You lay down next to him, maneuvering his arm to wrap around your waist. Your head is on his chest and your left hand is around his waist.

"I'm here Leon. I'm right here." You whisper this repeatedly until Leon's eyes get too heavy and he finally goes to sleep. Deep sleep. Not the "let me shut my eyes for a few minutes" sleep. And you stay there, lying next to him until he wakes up. You know that if he wakes up and you are not there, it will tear at Leon's heart. Making him believe that you were really a figment of his imagination and his wife of only nine months is dead.

It is your turn to watch your husband sleep. To know that he is okay. A part of marriage is caring for each other until you physically drop. Leon did his part, and now it is time you do yours. For the next couple of weeks, maybe even months, the two of you will take extra care of each other. You will make sure to love each other a little more than you usually do. To say it more often. Hugs are tighter and cuddles are longer.

Truly, if Leon loses you, the man might as well die then and there. A part of him would want to crawl into the casket with you and lie with you until he joins you in the afterlife. Nothing would save Leon from that hell, not even alcohol. A downside of being with you is that Leon is dependent on you. You are his reason to live. You are his light in the dark tunnel he often adventures in. You have your claws sunk into his heart, soul, and body. Everything that is Leon is yours. He is yours to claim and yours to love.

Please, do not make Leon fall into the pitless well. Please, stay with him until he takes his last breath. Cheat death. Run away from it. Fight it. Do whatever you have to do to stay alive because there is no world or universe out there where Leon can live without you.

#x reader #fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil imagine #leon kennedy imagine #leon scott kennedy #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil 5 #resident evil 6 #resident evil vendetta #resident evil damnation #resident evil infinite darkness #resident evil death island #re 4 remake #re 2 remake #resident evil x reader #reader insert

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istadris · 7 months

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You know, this idea about Bowuigi in the context of Luigi's Mansion ?

It's the spooky season so let's make it more angsty !

Luigi and Bowser have been dating in secret for a while, hiding and both happy with each other and sad they couldn't be more open about their relationship. Bowser wants to take the risk and reveal it all for the world to see, Luigi is too anxious to take the leap.

Most of all, there's how Bowser is still officially an enemy of the Mushroom Kingdom and occasionally commiting trouble, because that's what's expected from him, that's all he knows.

At some point Luigi finally builds up the courage of deciding to tell Mario...but he doesn't dare to hell it himself. And Bowser claims there's no way Mario would ever listen to him, since they only meet in battle.

"I mean, how I am supposed to prove I'm turning over a new leaf when we're fighting??"

"...Don't."

"What?"

"Don't fight. Next time you fight, stand down. Don't strike back. Mario wouldn't fight someone who doesn't defend themselves, and that's the last thing he'd expect from you, this is sure to get his attention !"

Bowser laughs and ruffles Luigi's hair, claiming this is a crazy idea, but you know what, worth a try.

The last time they see each other, Bowser is somber. He warns Luigi of his plans to draw Mario out to his castle so they can... (Bowser swallows and chews as if the word isn't used to the word) talk.

He'll break down the news to Mario. At least the "changing his way" part. Maybe he'll confess the romance as well, if it goes well, he jokes while Luigi is hugging him, thanking him for doing it.

The plan takes places, Mario chases after Bowser and Luigi stays at home, wrecked with nerves, torn between sticking to the plan and rushing to his brother's side. He should be here, this concerns him too, but the idea of Mario taking the news badly twists his guts and freezes him in place. For hours he paces, watching every ten seconds the road Mario has taken when leaving.

Hours pass. Shadows lengthen. The sun starts setting. The air grows colder.

And finally, Mario appears on the horizon.

Luigi rushes to meet him...and slows down as he comes closer.

Something has gone wrong.

He can see it in Mario's slow, heavy gait. In his darkened, scorched clothes. In the way he desperately rubs his deeply scarred hand, as if trying to remove his own skin.

When Luigi finally reaches him, Mario looks at him. Never had Luigi seen such haunted eyes on his brother's face.

"I didn't...I didn't mean to...to..."

Despite the anguish crushing Luigi's heart, despite knowing deep down already what has happened, Luigi asks, and forces himself to hear as Mario recount the events.

How out of nowhere, Bowser had suddenly stood down instead of fighting.

How Mario had already been in the middle of this attack, caught off guard by the unexpected.

How his attack had hit its target : not Bowser, but a batch of explosives, setting off a huge blast.

How Bowser, thrown off balance, had fallen.

How Mario had tried -he has tried, Luigi, he swears he has tried!- to catch him, how the claws had sunk into his flesh for a moment, before the Koopa had fallen into the lava below.

How he had tried, hoping desperately for a twist, a revelation, Kamek showing up out of nowhere, anything...

How instead, the throne room's door had been opened by Junior, confused by his dad's absence and asking what Mario was doing here alone....

That's when Mario's voice breaks, and he buries his head in his hands, sobbing, held by Luigi, who clings to his brother to not collapse as his heart feels ripped out off his chest.

And yet he doesn't tell anything.

Not this day, nor the day after, nor ever.

A part of Luigi wants to hate his brother; to throw in his face the true weight of what he has done; he wants to scream his pain and rage, the sheer injustice of the situation choking him until he can't breathe anymore.

But he knows Mario never meant for this to happen. Even if he had known the truth. Mario feels horrible enough for actually causing Bowser's death and Luigi can't bring himself to pile more on his guilt.

Mario is still his brother. He can't hate him, he doesn't think he ever would (he now knows he never can, if he still can't hate Mario after causing so much pain).

But he's grieving, alone, miserable, and for a while he can't even look at Mario without feeling like he'll cry all the tears in his body. Mario worries, he has noticed the distance Luigi seems to put between the two of them, but since Luigi keeps his secret, Mario doesn't know how to fix things.

For several months, they remain distant, and it hurts every single day.

Mario goes on a couple of adventures alone. Whenever he tries to invite Luigi to come along, Luigi uses excuses and stays at home. A home that feels too small and oppressive nowadays, with all the memories and complex feelings and secrets swirling inside.

Luigi needs a new start. Or at least some time on his own.

So when he's told he has won a mansion, he doesn't question how he's never participated in the context. On the other hand, Mario is suspicious but doesn't want to give Luigi the impression that he doesn't trust him, or that he won't respect his need for space.

But he just wants to make sure nothing is afoul. A quick little check before Luigi arrives...

As the mansion exploration goes on, when Luigi is told about "Bowser" returning, he doesn't care about any warnings: Bowser might be alive ! Maybe Mario didn't understand the situation and jumped to conclusions too soon, maybe Kamek found a way to bring his king back! And if he's here, it's probably because he's looking for Luigi !

Hope buoys him as he looks for his brother with a newfound determination. He will find them both! He knows it !

It's a long, long night. Dark and full of terrors, fleeting hopes crushed by horrors, relief and anguish mixed all together at the end.

Luigi wins, and Luigi fails, and despite the sheer, unaltered joy he feels once Mario is finally free from the painting...

It feels like losing Bowser again.

#super mario bros #luigi's mansion #bowuigi #miscellaneous mario madness #a sad one for once

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ymaohoh · 3 months

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Yankee Candle Baby - Fic

Eddie wants to buy something nice for Chrissy. Candles are romantic, right? Oneshot (See at the end for notes)

Word count: 3,730

Chapter: 1/1.

No trigger warnings. No real plot. Just fluff and lust.

Also on Archive of Our Own.

Oh yeah. He was most definitely out of his comfort zone. He was so far out of the zone that he felt like he was standing on a sinking ship surrounded by menacing hungry sharks.

The mall. The fucking mall. On this perfectly fine Saturday he was here of all places.

The small town of Hawkins boasted exactly one mall which meant it was unfortunately one of the busier places to be at the weekends, though at this precise time of the day he was thankful to see most of the shoppers were old folks, and noisy kids. His peers (and he used this term very loosely) would likely show up later when it was time to…God knows…go to the movies? Get a burger? Hit the arcade? Whatever it was the average American teenager did at the weekend with their friends or dates. As if he gave a flying fuck.

No, he hoped he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew. Not because he cared about their opinion - he was Eddie Munson, after all, have you met him? - but because he wanted to get this over and done with as quickly as humanly possible. He was on a secret D&D quest with one singular (but important) purpose...and as soon as he found his holy grail he would race back to his beat-up van and get the hell out of here.

His leather boots scuffed on the linoleum floor (decorated with some bright nonsense pattern) as he walked forwards reluctantly into what he considered the jaws of hell. Eddie was not typically a morning person and it seemed too early in the day for the overly bright lights that lined the walls or the music blasting out of stores that he could only assume people who hung here found ‘cool’ and ‘trendy’. He ignored the posters that lined the windows advertising whatever shit was for sale inside and kept his eyes open for one specific store.

Harrington said it would be right at the end of the first floor by the food court…and here…finally. Here it was. The walls to the store were painted bubblegum pink and unsurprisingly the patrons inside were all teenage girls wearing pastels and preppy makeup.

Hell was apparently the cover of Teen Beat or Just Seventeen, the magazines that he often found rolled up in this van nowadays.

Eddie looked at the bright and cheery store in question with something akin to repulsion (could he seriously hear Robert Palmer being played on the stereo behind the counter?) before taking a deep breath and plummeting inside before he could change his mind.

Addicted to love? Apparently he fucking was because it was the only reason he was here. The only reason he’d step inside a capitalist cesspit that was so intense and cheery and uncomfortable to him. The object of said addiction?

A tiny cheerleader who looked at him like he was her God-damned hero.

Chrissy was everything to him, even though they’d only technically been a couple (or ‘going steady’ as she reminded him) for a month now. Honestly? It felt longer. It felt like she’d always been a part of his life from the moment he first laid eyes on her neat strawberry-blonde ponytail. If you asked him if he could remember a time before her he’d draw a blank. He’d had a life without her, sure, but damn if he could remember much about it. He didn’t really want to. She’d woken him up like he was Snow White and she was the prince and life was now all singing cartoon birds, rainbows and sunsets. She was like the fucking sun itself.

Best of all? She was his. All his. They navigated through the highschool gossip, the stares, the outright rude comments that made him want to ball his fists like how the hell did that loser pull someone like her? Is she crazy? To be fair, it wasn’t a stupid question. He’d asked himself the same thing over and over. They’d laughed when hearing the suggestions of blackmail and magic and he’d fallen a bit in love with her when she admitted there could be magic at play.

If he thought it would make her smile (and seriously her smile always had the power to totally pierce through his chest like an arrow) then he would most gladly step into whatever hellish landscape needed. He’d move mountains for her. Battle demons. All that cliche romantic stuff.

Shit, he couldn’t wait to see her smile again. Maybe he was addicted.

Later on today she was coming to his trailer and they’d be all alone as his uncle was working a night shift at the plant. They’d arranged it so casually yesterday when he drove her home from school - ‘I’ll be there after I finish my chem homework, okay? Maybe six…seven?’ ‘Sure thing. Come round whenever’ - but despite the casual tone he really wanted to do something extra nice for her. He had an idea about making her dinner and setting it up all fancy on the table with the forks and spoons and whatever lined up in the so-called right places. Hell, he’d even bought some wine for them both and Harrington said it was a good bottle (for under $5).

He wouldn’t call Harrington a friend exactly, but he wasn’t a stranger either. He was also one of the only guys he sort of hung around with who actually had experience with women. Eddie would die if any of the kids found out about this (though really they knew how soft Eddie was for Chrissy. It was almost nauseating to be in the same room as them). Harrington has also recommended getting candles.

Girl’s love them, he’d said confidently. He’d pieced everything together immediately when he ran into Eddie at the store buying fancy healthy ingredients and wine. Eddie was a beer guy usually - wine had to only mean he was trying to impress someone. Trust me, man. There’s a new place in the mall that all the girls talk about. Sounds seriously lame but if you’re going with Chrissy the queen Cunningham then you better up your game. No offense.

So here he was. Like he said, he’d do anything for Chrissy. Even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone and doing something different.

Just like when she surprised him last Tuesday by showing up at The Hideout to hear his band for the first time. She’d looked so out of place in her floral dress beside the regulars who stuck to black and ripped denim as a rule, but she’d cheered loudly (his own personal cheerleader) and it made him feel like the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. She really was a fucking gem.

“Hi. Can I help you?”

A friendly voice came out of nowhere and he looked up to see a salesgirl eyeing him curiously. He couldn’t blame her for looking at him in that way. Next to the other customers he stood out like a sore thumb in his jeans and leather jacket. Still, he had a reputation of bravado to uphold and he wasn’t the kind of shitty person who was rude to staff. Her name badge said ‘Becky’ in a tiny purple font. She looked to be around Chrissy’s age.

Becky, you’re going to be my best friend right now.

“You sure can. Candles? Word on the street is you sell them.”

She smiled and led him to the back of the store past all the scented bath crap, the bright cushions with tassels, the art-deco type figurines, and other trendy kitschy items that teenage girls seemed to adore having in their bedrooms. She led him to a counter at the back which was full of the promised candles. Several heads turned in surprise as he moved around but they soon went back to whatever little item that so fascinated them.

Ah shit.

“This is the only brand we sell as it’s the most popular. Is there one you have specifically in mind or do you need help picking one out?”

She was assuming he’d been sent here by his girlfriend (or sister or mom) to collect something on their behalf because they were tied up somewhere else. In which case he’d know exactly what it was he needed. How many boyfriends (or brothers or dads) had been in the same pitiful position as he was now? Becky probably spotted it right away which is why she was being so helpful. Golden star for Becky, he thought.

(He did love the term boyfriend though. Chrissy’s boyfriend. Chrissy’s boyfriend who would run errands for her. Ah, bliss).

He fixed her with a smile, saying honestly… “I haven’t got a clue, Becky. Honestly. I’m just trying to find something nice for my girlfriend.”

(His girlfriend. His girlfriend Chrissy. The person who braided his favourite bandana into her hair, marking her as such).

“Well that’s adorable,” Becky commented. The smile she wore now seemed far more genuine. “In that case let me help. What does your girlfriend use them for? Reading? Putting on during a bath? General ambience?”

Dude. Do not think of Chrissy in a bath. Not Chrissy in a bath wet with water and soap and…

“I’m fixing her dinner tonight,” he explained, turning to more pure and wholesome thoughts. “So something for that? I thought it might look…nice?”

This was hell. Absolute hell.

Still, two girls who were standing by all the bath crap nearby let out little sighs at his stilted phrasing. Becky looked pretty impressed too. Wow, was he nailing this? And was it just him or did his voice get softer when he spoke about anything to do with Chrissy?

“I’d go with a pillar candle then, for sure. You can place it in the middle of the table,” Becky suggested. She waved towards the right side of the display. “What’s her favourite smell?”

“Uh…well, she likes loads of things…”

And this was the trickiest bit. He didn’t know. Chrissy liked all sorts of smells and tastes. He’d noticed her happy sigh when she smelled the football field after the grass was freshly cut, and she said she liked the smell of ‘new books’. How could they make candles out of that?

“I see. Well, maybe test some? See which ones remind you the most of her. I need to go and help that customer over there, but I’ll be by the counter if you need anything else, okay?”

“Sure…thanks.”

This wasn’t going to be so quick and easy as he’d hoped.

Who the hell needed so many candles? Why were there so many sizes? What the hell was Home for Holidays? He managed to stifle a sigh. He focused on the taller candles to the right where Becky had waved, agreeing that they were probably best suited for his purpose (and would last longer - you know, if he and Chrissy forgot all about them in a daze of frantic making out). Wait - was his home at serious risk of burning down tonight?

It was a herculean effort to drag his mind away from Chrissy’s spectacular lips and back to the mission at hand. Really. He should be awarded some prize for this.

Right. Maybe focus on scent like Becky said? That was the whole point of candles now the lightbulb made them otherwise obsolete, right? He scanned the labels. What smell would Chrissy like?

Using his keen powers of logic and intellect (sharpened recently with Chrissy’s tutorage) he noted that the candles seemed to be arranged in a specific order. The ones on the top shelf sounded like flowery ones.

Lavender? French Lavender? Lilac Blossoms? Lily of the Valley? He held the latter up to his nose but yanked it away quickly. No way. It smelled like something his grandmother would buy. From what very limited information Chrissy offered about her batshit family they seemed to uphold ‘good old-fashioned conservative values’ like most of middle America and Chrissy herself unknowingly still toed some traditional ideals (though she’d hate any comparison to her crusty bitch of a mother). For example, she was the one who wanted to ‘go steady’ and go on ‘dates’. She also made them wait for date three before…well, what she would very cutely describe as ‘PG stuff’ stuff. As for Eddie? Hell, from day one he’d wanted to throw her over his shoulder cave man style and fuck her on the floor of his van (where she’d first gloriously uttered the perfect words ‘yes, Eddie, I like like you too’) .

Floral smells seemed to go hand in hand with those traditional ideals…yet Chrissy was showing day by day she didn’t want to be held back by that crap any longer. It started with baby steps - hell, dating him a biggie - but who knew what the future held? Chrissie wanted to go to college after graduation and instead of writing ‘baby-maker extraordinaire’ on her applications (as her family wanted) she confessed to wanting more. Maybe teaching? Maybe social work? She had the brains, for sure. His Chrissy was a Fourth of July sparkler, burning bright and sparkling. She could be whatever she wanted to be. She could have both a career and a family if she wanted because she admitted she did like kids (though the idea of Chrissy holding another little Chrissy in her arms made him feel things he never thought possible). With a fond smile he placed the candle back and moved along.

White fig, Sicilian Lemon, Sea Salt and Sage, Sage and Citrus, Olive and Thyme. The next shelf seemed to hold the candles that smelled like food. Which was bizarre when he really thought about it. He sampled them each. After all, he was buying a candle to go with dinner so didn’t it make sense for it to be food related?

He quite liked the citrus smell but he smiled when he saw the label for Thyme. He thought about the first time (ha) they’d cooked together at his trailer a few weeks back, back before they were dating. They’d still been at that bullshit flirty-but-not stage, both too scared of admitting their real feelings in case they ruined the tentative and unexpected friendship they both secretly cherished. Dinner hadn’t been anything special - they’d been hanging out watching a movie with accidental (or not in his case) brushing of limbs and secret glances to her legs (she’d been wearing her cheerleader skirt, for crying out loud - he was not made of stone) - when they’d grown hungry and started fixing some pasta. Chrissy had been awkward when it came to food back then and it was something he’d picked up on right away. She would always make excuses not to eat in front of him but her growling stomach had on this occasion betrayed her big time. He’d heated up the pasta and asked her to pass the thyme to stir into the tomato sauce and she’d eventually admitted to not having a clue what that herb was. He’d been so careful to show not even the teensiest amount of surprise in his eyes, and instead patiently showed her how to use it in cooking. It was apparent that Chrissy only ate the same things day after day and it was all bland and unseasoned.

Less calories, right?

Since then she’d come along leaps and bounds with her eating, though it was still something present in the back of her mind like a cobweb they couldn’t quite dust away. Though he worried about the future - what would his dumbass do while Chrissy excelled? - one thing he knew for certain was right after graduation (maybe while still wearing those dorky robes) he would bundle Chrissy into his van and drive her far away from the influence of her asshole mother. If she let him he would dedicate his life to feeding and caring for her like she deserved. He hoped she’d be game.

He looked away from this shelf. They still had some work to do in this area.

He liked Candy Cane Lane, Cranberry Twist, French Vanilla, Pink Grapefruit…He smelled them appreciatively even though they were very sickly sweet. He liked his coffee black but he knew Chrissy preferred hers laden with sugar and cream (now she actually let herself indulge more).

Chrissy was sweetness personified in human form really. All sweet smiles and warm skin and caresses. She was popular for her looks, her kindness, her cheery nature. She also had the glorious ability to look past the dark parts of life (and in people) and see the goodness and the light. It was a trait that Eddie simply didn’t have and he marvelled whenever he was privileged enough to see it swell inside her. No matter how many times life seemed to try and beat it out of her, Chrissy was a God-damned angel who got right back on her feet and was unapologetically kind and sweet and dazzling. Eddie knew he would do anything in his power to keep that flame inside of her bright and fucking destroy anyone who tried to take advantage or smother it.

(Was he an attack dog now? A bull terrier? Why not. She already held his metaphoric leash. Where she went, he went gladly).

Chrissy had looked at him - him, Eddie, the guy who was all swagger and sarcasm and enjoyed guts and gore. The person who was labelled a freak, an outcast, a junior delinquent - and seen someone she wanted to be with. Her sweet pretty smile seemed to shine on him and say you’re my person and you are good and you are mine.

Hell, he was going to ravish her later on.

Strawberry

Oh yes. We have a winner. This would be the part where quiz show lights went off and heaps of cash fell from the ceiling.

He didn’t need to sample this candle because he knew right away this was the one which reminded him the most of Chrissy Cunningham.

Of her fucking perfect little mouth.

Chrissy had a habit of wearing lipgloss and it tended to be of the fruity variety which was A-OK with him as long as he was the one tasting it. He’d drown himself in buckets of strawberries if it meant he could once more brush his tongue against that soft velvet cupid bow. The rush he got from kissing Chrissy was better than any illicit high, and he knew as soon as he’d sampled just a little bit that it was game over. He was hooked for life. Chrissy was now in his veins - channelling through his body - and keeping his small insignificant heart beating.

Their first kiss hadn’t been planned but it was fucking spectacular all the same. So were their other firsts. All of them etched into his memory forever. He might casually use the word fucking to describe what they were doing nearly every single night in his trailer, but they both knew it ran much deeper than that. They were hooked on each other. Couldn’t get enough of each other. It made them frantic and careless at times. Though she swore him to secrecy (blushing as she did so because of course good girls would never) he would never tell another soul about the times they’d frantically fucked in the back of his van, or on the bench in the woods where they re-met. They’d even fucked hurriedly behind The Hideout and the image of him lifting Chrissy against the brick wall with her long legs wrapped around his waist, was something he thought about a lot. He remembered how her pretty lips looked when she came for him.

And before that when they first uttered the word fuck infront of him. They’d been sitting on the lawn with their friends at the time, and everyone had cheered at Chrissy Cunningham saying a bad word. He’d whistled and cheered too, though it was incredibly hot and a base instinct deep down wanted to grab her like he was some savage neanderthal and have her there on the field. He was pretty sure she knew that too because there was a coy twist to her smile.

Ding ding ding. We’ve found the candle. He picked it up and went to pay Becky.

“Nice choice,” she said as she popped it in a paper bag.

“Yeah. Chrissy is…” Chrissy was a lot of things. He settled on, “She tastes like strawberries.”

Becky’s cheeks flamed at his words and she couldn’t stop herself from giggling. Instead of feeling embarrassed, Eddie felt pretty proud of himself overall. He’d battled the demon that was the mall, found a sidekick of sorts in Becky, and retrieved the holy grail that would please the beautiful princess. Not a bad campaign really. “Chrissy Cunningham, you mean?”

Christ. They knew her here too? He gave her a stiff nod. Was she going to start coming out with the usual crap he heard in the corridors about not being good enough?

But no. Becky only gave him the bag. “Lucky girl.”

“Nah, I'm the lucky one.”

----

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing for the couple, so apologies for any errors or mishaps with the setting or characteristics. It’s a learning curve. I was not alive during the 80’s so I did rely on a trusty search engine for a few parts. I actually searched for ‘Yankee Candles which are now obsolete’ (apparently they started in the 60’s - who knew?) and the ones listed above are the search results. Pretty sure some of them have come back into circulation though. The store Eddie so bravely ventured into is essentially an 80’s Oliver Bonas.

I’m also not from the US though I tried using some of the lingo. I think I actually wrote the word mum but it looked so out of place for this world. I can’t bring myself to swap the spell check over though so you still get plenty of u’s in unlikely places (or likely - eh).

I really enjoyed writing this. It came very naturally. I’ve posted some prompts on my page which I’ll make my way through but give me a shout if you’ve got any requests.

Toodles x

#hellcheer #edssy #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson #eddie munson is a good boyfriend #eddissy #hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer headcanons

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 7 days

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Speaking of farms, could we please have some of the other papyrus’s visiting Oak and Willow’s farm?

Undertale Papyrus - Papyrus is always welcomed on the farm. He's a close friend of both skeletons and he brings some activity around with his crazy shenanigans. Willow struggles to follow him, but his presence always awakens his mischievous part and they always end in trouble bitching on the neighbors or doing something stupid. Papyrus always cheers them (maybe because he feels guilty for them even though none of what happened to them is actually his fault since he wasn't even there).

Underswap Papyrus - He's one of Oak's best friends. When you don't know where Oak is, there's a chance out of two he's hanging with Honey somewhere random on the farm. They both love animals as well and can spend hours just sitting and talking in the middle of the chicken. Willow usually has to force him out of the farm when it's time for dinner (or, most of the time, after dinner because of course Oak will invite him) or Honey is never leaving.

Underfell Papyrus - Well, he got lost again in town. Neither Oak or Willow likes having him around. Oak ignores him but Willow can't help trying to talk to him sometimes and it somehow always ends with Willow being offended by something Edge said lol. They just don't get along.

Horrorswap Papyrus - Pumpkin is family, he can come and go as he wants and even steal in the fridge, but they don't care. Pumpkin actually comes to them a lot when he's sad or anxious, they always have the words to calm him down. Willow even made him a room inside the house where he can go when he fights with his brother (which happens regularly) or needs a safe place to stay for a few days. He's adopted your honor.

Horrorfell Papyrus - Same as Pumpkin, he's family. Chief comes to visit at least once a week to go in treatment with Willow. Willow for his back, him for his back and paralyzed legs. They grew very close as they pretty much show how vulnerable they were to each other. They laughed together, they cried together, they suffered together... It helps to get close. Willow is also the first one who noticed Chief's excitement when after three years of nothing he finally managed to move his toes. Their friendship is great, and he even won Oak over eventually.

Swapfell Papyrus - He's a difficult one lol. Willow likes him, somehow, but he's way too much for Oak, who has to suffer his terrible sense of humor everytime he's here. Oak is unfortunately an easy target for the jokester and it seems he can never get bored of it. So yeah, there were one or two times when he pushed Oak to his limits to the point he blasted his face off. Willow didn't defend him though lol. It's entirely Rus' fault and sometimes, you have to learn the hard way.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Oak and Willow like Coffee a lot, but they can't see him often because of his psychotic freak of a brother they both want dead. So yeah, once or twice, it happens Oak convinces Coffee to stay on the farm only to piss off Wine knowing he would lose his damn mind trying to find a way to get his brother back without meeting them. It's entertaining. Willow can't help but see a bit of Undyne in Wine and he's trying to open Coffee's eyes on this. His brother is manipulated him and he struggles a lot to let it just happen without saying anything.

Outertale Papyrus - They met only once, that time Sun ran out of magic flying and faceplants in the middle of the cow enclosure, covering himself in poop. Willow got pity for him and took him in to help him clean his clothes and gave him some others so he could go home without smelling horribly.

Dancetale Papyrus - Salsa often organizes little ball on their farm and that made them closer. He's a good friend of the Horrortale brothers, even if Oak can't make the difference between him and classic Papyrus lol. He was shocked the first time he saw the two of them together and realized they are in fact not the same person.

Dancefell Papyrus - Willow and Oak know him only with his videos and discover on one of them that he illegally enters their farm to take selfies with some of his animals. The only reason they didn't report him is because it actually encouraged more people to come and visit. He's not welcome if he ever shows up again though.

Farmtale Papyrus - Sam and Ben taught the brothers all they knew to start with their farm so obviously they're really close. The Farmtale brothers' farm is right next to theirs, so they see each other a lot. They also regularly change tractors when one is not working, or even animals when they need a breeder. They're hanging together a lot as well. Ben doesn't go out often so going inside their house to chat is what's the closest to socializing for him.

Mafiatale Papyrus - ??????? Oak found him one day hiding in his bushes with a sniper rifle. When he asks him what he's doing, Creeper blinks at him for all answers and then focuses back on his gun, not saying a word. Oak is not sure what to think about the guy. He's kinda creepy.

Mafiafell Papyrus - Well, after Torpedo tried repeatedly to buy their farm, even threatening to attempt their lives to do so, the brothers obviously hate it when he's around. Oak attacked him several times already but Torpedo is like a weed, he always comes back eventually. Willow reported him to the police, but, well, you don't catch the head of the mafia that easily, unfortunately.

Disbelief Papyrus - Delta is family and he has a room in the farm. When he feels too lonely, he just comes to hang for a few days with them until he feels better. Delta is comforted by Willow's gentle nature and the fact that he's not the only Papyrus who lived through horrible things. He comes to Willow when he needs to talk, as he grieves a lot of people as well. It's easier to confess to someone who knows how bad it hurts to lose people you deeply care about. He's also the only one Willow trained to react if Oak enters a panic attack, which means how much he trusts him.

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that-fanperson-meg · 4 months

Text

ok so I kinda went crazy and made a song analysis of “A Drink to Death” by Chonny Jash because of how much I associate it with Pleiades.

Pleiades and Dulciana belong to @loaflovesdoodling

also here’s the song if you’re curious lol

So let’s get started:

"Make sure my glass is full" "Let's crash and see how fast we go" He took a shot and held his breath "I'm gonna drink myself to death"

These first few lines are about Ades himself I think, what with him drinking away all of his problems away and wanting to drink himself to death despite being immortal.

It'll eat your insides Your brain burns and your skin dries Bumbling through the alleys like you think you're still alive I wanna hold you closely, I wanna smell your sweat I wanna drink myself to death

I see this part as him just kinda rambling on, as seen in the bolded lines that I interpret as him wanting to have Dulciana back with him again and Ades still grappling with her death (also the mention of ALLEYS? Come on the comparisons are too easy lol)

There will be no candles There will be no romance I will be alone We will not hold hands There will be no toasting There will be no romance You are young, I am an old man

This section is a sort of continuation of the other bold lines where Pleiades is wanting back Dulci and reminiscing about how they were back when she was still alive but now knowing that he’ll never do any of the stuff that they did together ever again.

And if I pass out, wake me up I may be drunk but I'm not drunk enough And everything keeps fucking up We were nice together, weren't we, once? I'm drunk but I'm not drunk enough We were nice together, weren't we, once?

I see these lyrics as Ades fully spiraling as he keeps drinking more and more to stave off the pain and grief of Dulciana and talking to himself.

Make sure my glass is full We can laugh 'til I am blasting off From now 'til nothing's left I wanna drink myself to death (I'm gonna drink myself to death)

The chorus repeats the same things as expressed in the first time

When I woke, it was daylight and the clouds were pink The sun was coming up... or going down, I think (I'm gonna drink myself to death) You can't see their silver linings when your vision's blurred A 151-proof tear detergent to clean what's down my shirt (I'm gonna drink myself to death)

Ok now this is where it starts getting fun :]

I personally see the first lyric as Ades’ talking about Dulciana in a metaphorical sense, saying that she’s the daylight and she brought light to his world…however as said in the lyrics the sun was going down (referring to Dulci’s terminal illness) and the next lyric only enforces this by saying that his vision was blurred (which I choose to interpret as Pleiades crying over Dulciana’ passing hence his vision being blurred by tears)

Make sure my glass is full Let's make the evening magical The lies have no regrets I'm gonna drink myself to death (I'm gonna drink myself to death)

Make sure my glass is full I'll crash to see how fast I go I'll take a shot and hold my breath I'm gonna drink myself to death

Once again the chorus only reinforces Ades’ grief and him using alcohol to cope.

And the nights have lost their minds And the mornings are unkind And this, the last I see of you The glass! Don't let me see it through

OK NOW THIS IS THE SYMBOLISM I CRAVE.

Alright so let’s break this into two parts (blue and red)

So I believe that the lyrics in blue would be Pleiades taking about his parents, what his mother being the night and his father being the morning

and the red lyrics are Ades hallucinating Dulciana because of all of the alcohol with him saying “the last I see of you, the glass!” Basically him seeing her through the glass

Make sure my name is known 'Til the pain will make you wish you don't Of life, we're all bereft I just took mine before the rest

I see this as Pleiades completely loosing himself in the alcohol as also represented by the music getting more frantic and intense.

Make sure my glass is full Let's watch this white light turn to gold Tonight is all that's left I'm gonna drink myself to death

Now this chorus is slightly different from the others and the bolded lyric can actually fit pretty well with Ades’ hate/fear of hospitals because the most common color in a hospital is white (hence the which it’s light) and Pleiades’ blood being gold and the theme that persists throughout the song of Ades wanting to drink himself to death so he can finally be back with Dulciana

And when I pass, don't call my bluff I may be drunk but I'm not drunk enough To fight the me that's on this stuff We were nice, but now I'm coarse and rough I'm drunk but I'm not drunk enough We were nice together, weren't we, once?

and finally the music slows and so does Pleiades as his thoughts begin to slow and his own grief takes over his thoughts, and as the last lyric asking Dulciana, “we were nice together, weren’t we once?” And with that it all fades away.

So yeah TLDR: Poor little meow meow misses his wife and wants to see her again

congrats if you actually made it through all of my ramblings lol, here take a cookie :]

🍪

#kirby original character #Idk why I made this #I guess I was just in a silly mood #Spotify

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rayalltheway · 1 year

Text

Even though Sun Wukong knew it wouldn’t mean anything, he still felt he had to fight the urge to smash the rock in front of him regardless.

(major LMK S4 spoilers)

It’d be something for the sake of irony, he supposed. It was him. But he’d had enough of that for the past several thousand years to have this damned scroll to make a mockery out of reminders of his eternal existence.

At least, that was what he figured it was trying to do. Easier to swallow than the shame of having no fucking clue what was going on here.

Why here?

It was the first place he ended up — the first place the scroll took him — after he let it imprison him here. That’s right, let it. Maybe a part of that was not wanting to let the curse have the satisfaction of claiming him in its spell, but that wasn’t the real reason.

Xiaotian’s look of fear and confusion was the last thing Sun Wukong saw from the real world, when he took the blow meant for him. If he had it his way, Xiaotian would just get away. Stay far away and safe from this thing and its powers of torment.

But he knew for a fact he wouldn’t. He was the Monkie Kid. His brave, crazy, silly, powerful student who he never doubted for a moment would, with his friends, do everything he could to put this nightmare to an end.

Sun Wukong knew they could do it, but that didn’t mean he was just going to let this monstrous curse throw the worst it had at his protege and the family he had found, not without him by his side to help him. And he had to force his way through all the darkest, most sinful chapters of his life to get to Xiaotian, then the spell could bring it on.

That’s why he was so confused that the first thing he saw when the ink cleared was his stone. The sun, the clear blue sky, the gentle slopes of mountains that he only just remembered from his first moments of life in this world, and his stone. Undisturbed. Unhatched.

Sun Wukong couldn’t think of anything about this near picturesque scene meant to torture him — it tugged at something in him, he guessed. A sense of melancholy and nostalgia of his earliest days, back when everything was so much more simple. But he knew this scroll’s tricks, and all it did was put him more on edge, scanning around the area for a brief moment, wondering where the catch was. He found nothing.

He huffed to himself, gave the stone one last look, and then gathered all his might for his search. In a blast, he flung himself through the spell, cracking through the border of this chapter and into the next. It wasn’t entirely effortless, but he’d do it as many times as he had to.

Considering that this was a scroll containing the history of every single thing that has ever happened, thousands upon thousands of chapters of time, he knew this method wasn’t exactly ideal. But it’s not like he had any other options, and if Xiaotian and his friends were already here, he feared what may happen to them if he tore through the scroll recklessly.

He made haste, and didn’t focus much on the details, but noticed that what he was encountering so far was not immediately recognizable to him, or things he knew of but hadn’t personally been there to witness. When finding no sign of Xiaotian or the others, he moved on.

He waited to find places where there were no other inhabitants before heading into the next chapter. He couldn’t be sure how many people here were prisoners or simply figures made from memory, but there was no reason to disturb them, not when they were just living their lives, none the wiser that they were just reflections of the past.

Another blast of power, another chapter —

— and he was back at the stone again.

He gawked at it in disbelief. There was no way he went in a circle. But wait — no, he hadn’t, because the memory was different. The sky was lighter now, shades of dawn on the horizon. The tree he knew that hung above his birthing place was less fully grown.

He figured that he’d been incubating in his stone for a long time, but it still didn’t make sense.

He thought for a moment, and decided to simply make his next jump now — he wasn’t going to stick around for whatever the spell was pulling.

He just needed to find Xiaotian.

But even more chapters later yielded him, once again, in front of the stone.

He was starting to become deeply disturbed, no matter how hard he was trying to stay focused.

He steadied himself, and then a thought came to him. He turned, looking around once more.

“Xiaotian?” He called out.

He didn’t consider that Xiaotian might end up here, but it was possible. After all, he knew that Mas-

-Tang’s powers could navigate this scroll, eventually the spell would gravitate to where he may be. But if he didn’t know it…Dammit, why was it that now when he needed to tell the others things that could help them, he couldn’t?

Well, trying was better than standing around staring at a rock.

“Xiaotian?…Xiaotian!”

No avail. He wasn’t here.

This continued. Several more times.

No matter how far he went, when he went, the curse would place him in front of the stone again and again. Confusion became entwined with his frustration. He could think of many stand out instances of his life off the top of his head that this curse could use against him, but he had barely seen any chapters relating to his journey. But for whatever reason, he was in a loop that kept circling back there, to his stone. Why? Was it a way of keeping him from finding Xiaotian? Keep him stuck? Why would the curse choose to punish him this way, if only to make him angrier?

…unless, it wasn’t?

Sun Wukong was driven by a single intention. He couldn’t just shut everything out, though — a number of chapters ago he landed in an old woman’s farm, and built her a stable for her geese. There were miscellaneous interactions like that, seeing moments where he could do some small good for those in a state of eternal repetition. Which was incidentally the position he was in. Even so, he knew what he was looking for. He’d taught that to Xiaotian, making things so with his power through intention. It was how he and the others would have to be navigating the scroll.

But he kept ending up in front of his damn rock. If it wasn’t the curse, then it’d have to be him, right? But that made no sense.

He was trying to get to Xiaotian and his friends. Whatever else of his past lurked in this spell, that was all that mattered.

He had to find his student. It was all he could do to keep going, after glaring helplessly at the stone once again.

He just didn’t know why.

…And then he would. And maybe that was the real trick of the curse, Sun Wukong would think in abject horror as he stood within that memory a final time as it fell apart with the curse. A memory that wasn’t his.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know why he kept coming back to the stone.

He didn’t know what was right in front of him, all this time. And he really was an old, lost, broken fool, he thought.

Because every time, he completely passed over the broken monkey statue that lay but a few feet from his stone. The one he was sure wasn’t there at his birth.

He was looking for Xiaotian. And there he was.

(based on the writer’s conformation we got about what was going ion with Xiaotian’s visions of SWK + the stone though I might be interpreting a bit. tldr the scroll curse is a bitch and the only one really mad at sun wukong this season is gonna be himself calling it now)

#//self hatred #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #monkie kid season 4 spoilers #mk sun wukong #qi xiaotian #lmk fanfiction #my writing #//mental torment

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rayofmisfortune · 2 months

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Do you ever think about how when Ruin was still under the virus's control, Moon was the first person they saw in who knows how long, the person who he reached out to and begged for help, the person who reassured them that he was planning on saving them, the person who explained practically everything to them when they got cured, one of the people who they owe their LIFE to, and now Moon is the one interrogating them, accusing them of rebuilding eclipse, installing a tracker on them (1/2)

YES

YES I DO AND IT HURTS SO GOSH DARN BAD

New Moon... he just- I used to like him, yes he had his faults even in the past but it was easy to see those as him struggling with coming to terms with being someone who was SOMEONE ELSE before and needing to fit that holr the person left behind. He was relearning everything from scratch. It was understandablw that he would hiccup at some points.

My main appeal of old Moon was mainly that... he could SEE when someone was trying to change, when someone had a chance to turn over a new leaf. Because he HIMSELF had tried and done that. He knew what it was like to be someone viewed in a negative light, but he also knew what it was like to want to BE better and he was lucky enough to get the chance for that. Yes all the celestial family's problems stem from old Moon leaving Eclipse behind in Sun but.. to a level he can't really be blamed for that? He didn't know the killcode would grow sentient, he didn't know it would become its own person. He couldn't have predicted that as it's not something that happened to them before. He wanted to not be a danger to his brother now that they both had their own frames and could exist side to side.

The new Moon... he doesn't KNOW that. He doesn't know why the old Moon did the stuff he did. He doesn't know what it's like to be shaped into a monster by design yet wish for something better, something more. He DOESN'T. He'd never had the chance to learn or experience what that's like. The old Moon had. He doesn't know what to look for in a person to see that they wish to be different but are struggling to do so, or refuse to acknowladge it til the last possible moment. That's why he blasted backup Eclipse, he didn't register the desperation in his voice as genuine ladt ditch attempt to be given a moment to explain. No, he saw it as manipulation. The old Moon, by all means, would hsve most likely picked up on that as... NOT something Eclipse had ever done before. So backup Eclipse was blasted

I think the only reason he picked up on Ruin Eclipse not being the one in control there was solely because he sent Sun into the Ruin dimension and had the proof of that handed to him on a silver platter. Robots there have been infected by a virus that makes them go crazy and kill organic life. So.. he had proof of a person existing under the virus' control. And he did what he could to get that person out of the deep virus riddled sea they were trapped in. Because. He. Had. Proof.

After they managed to cure Ruin Eclipse? He. Had. No. Proof. Of. The. Virus. Being. Gone. He explained everything to them after they woke up, because they needed to know that no, you can't go home. Yes, you're stuck with us now. You were a bad guy. If I remember correctly, Ruin Eclipse was last aware of themself in the year of 2015 or 2017 (< in the episode they woke up, they weren't sure themselves) and the virus had been in their system for... 50ish years? Unsure.

Now we're here. Where they're getting shoved off to the side. Which has been mainly started by the same person that gave them their mind back. Why? Because Moon has no proof of them being cured. He has nothing. So, he's wary, distrustful. Shoving Ruin Eclipse to the side to make them not be a problem. While.. being SURPRISED when they want to help and be included. They didn't ask for this. For all we know they could be locked up in the arcade, reminiscing on how it all probably would be better if they haven't been cured. Haven't been aware. Haven't ever left their dimension. Ect. Ect.

They are lonely and desperate. Confused. Kept out of the loop. They don't know anything unless they ASK. They are thought of as stupid, when.. Ruin, while infected, was miles above Moon and Eclipse combined. To this day, they don't know how he could read what was in the static screens, or even how he did it. No one knows how he did it. And then we have our cured Ruin Eclipse who, may not be as much of a smartsy as Ruin was, but they ARE Sun and Moon combined. They aren't as smart as Moon, sure. But they know how to follow blueprints. If they have a blueprint for something, they can follow it to a T. It's downright insulting to think of them as stupid (same with Sun, he isn't stupid either). Moon thought it necessary to explain how the tracker works at which- Ruin Clipsy was probably thinking something along the lines of "I know how a tracker works."

They just- gosh, they need someone to talk to. To be there with them. Just someone who they can ramble off to, info dump, whatever else they need. Physical touch's important and they've.. I feel like they've been kept away from that a lot

#answered asks #sun and moon show #tsams #sams #ray's ramblings #this got so gosh darn long ahah #lost my train of thought so we're leaving it here jfjfjd

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k-femdove · 1 year

Text

First Love : Day 1 || H.RJ

pairing :: sub!renjun x afab!reader

warnings :: first love au, light kissing/making out, drinking, light profanity

word count :: 2k | not beta read

sypnosis :: In a world where your family can see who their first love is going to be, you are unable to love anyone until you end up with that person. Not a big deal, right? The only problem is that your first love is moving and you only have a week to make him fall in love.

or; my take on the soulmate au

playlist link here! or listen to ‘lover’ by taylor swift

prologue, day 1

You looked up from the table. Sitting across from you was Renjun. He quickly avoided eye contact, looking down and fidgeting with his thumbs. You looked back down.

Despite your seemingly confident manner, you were never the most social person. If you were being incredibly honest, most of your friends were people that had been introduced to you.

Then there was Chenle. Chenle had been your friend for years now. You could remember the day he moved here perfectly.

It was a hot summer day, and your AC was on full blast in your home. Being a young teenager, you were more than bored. The older kids would play basketball under the scorching sun, laughing over god knows what. The small kids would play in the community pool, their colorful floaties and chatty parents crowding the area.

You had only moved a year before and had yet to make any friends. No one in your neighborhood was around your age. You were too old to play with stuffed animals, but not mature enough to hang out with the others.

You sighed, glancing outside the window and shielding your eyes from the sunlight. A loud ding suddenly interrupted your thoughts and you ran to the door.

When you opened it, you were met with the sight of a young boy, only a tad bit shorter than you. He smiled, reaching a hand out to you.

“Hi, I'm Chenle! I'm 13 and I just moved next door. I heard you were my age, so why don't we hang out?”

Ever since then, Chenle and you were stuck together like glue. Not only that, but he constantly dragged you to places with him, resulting in a lot of interesting encounters.

That's why you and Chenle had a very similar friend group. He introduced a plethora of people to you, and they just so happened to vibe with you.

You usually weren't awkward with potential friends because Chenle was there, which made interacting with Renjun even harder.

Your embarrassing cycle had been repeating for a good 5 minutes. The silence was painfully awkward.

You cursed under your breath. The day began when Chenle invited you over. He claimed that Renjun wasn’t home, and he wanted to talk. It’s fine, right? Wrong.

The moment you walked into the apartment, you knew Chenle had lied. He wasn’t even home.

So here you were. Renjun was sweet, so he couldn’t bring himself to chase you out. He regretted that decision now. After he saw you yesterday, he was hoping to avoid any confrontation.

Not only that, but he felt ashamed. He was looking forward to meeting you, but now he was acting like a child. So what if you were fucking his best friend? As inexperienced as Renjun was, he knew that wasn’t something to shame people for.

You could practically hear his thoughts from across the table. Sighing, you spoke up.

“I didn’t fuck Chenle.”

Renjun’s head shot up.

“It’s a long story.” You continued. “I know you’re thinking about it. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t have sex on your couch- I’m not that reckless.”

“Oh,” Renjun muttered, embarrassed. “If that’s not it… then why are you here?”

Well shit. You couldn’t tell him the truth. Racking your brain for ideas, you tried to remember what Chenle had told you about this guy.

“Uh…” you said, attempting to pull something out of your ass. “I heard you’ve never been to a proper party before?”

“Uhm, yeah, I haven't,” Renjun replied, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Well, one of my friends is throwing a crazy one tonight, but he says everyone has to bring a friend...” You explained slowly, gauging his reaction. When he didn’t show any signs of discomfort, you continued. “And I was wondering if you’d like to come with me? You know, just for fun”

He didn’t reply quickly, but you could hear his unspoken words. “Why me?”

You didn’t want to come off too strong, so you tried to clarify. “I would’ve asked someone else, but nobody I know is up for it.”

Luckily for you, Renjun believed your explanation.

“Are you sure? I'm not the biggest party person.” He explained sheepishly.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun! You don't even have to stick with me the whole time- I think most of your friends will be there.”

Renjun thought about it before hesitantly agreeing. Besides, he had nothing better to do.

The rest of the meeting went smoothly. Renjun thought you were just bored, and you grabbed his number.

Chenle called you around an hour later, your phone ringing for at least 5 minutes before you felt like picking up.

“God y/n. You need to pick up my calls!” He scolded. “Anyways, have you explained things to Renjun?”

“Even better,” you replied. “I got his number.”

You heard shocked silence on the other line before Chenle let out an odd but excited sound.

“Really? You're surprisingly good at this. Tell me what happened.”

Chenle laughed when he heard about the conversation, his dolphin-like laugh just as loud through the phone.

“You invited Renjun to Haechan’s party? You know those are crazy as hell.”

“Don't make fun of me!” You said as Chenle was practically busting a lung. “You're turning into Mark right now.”

“Oh, shush.” He said, still giggling. “Continue with the story?”

Once your story finished (and Chenle stopped laughing), he finally got a little more serious about it.

“I'm surprised that you got him to go, though. You do know that I would’ve gone with you, right?”

“I don't know about that,” you replied. “You wouldn't say no to Jisung.”

“I mean,” Chenle said, “that's different! Don't act like you wouldn't choose Mark over me!”

Then you heard another voice over the line.

“Ooo, would you choose me over Chenle?” it said, a teasing tone underneath the amusement.

The next thing you heard was Chenle’s exaggerated groan.

“Shut up Mark!”

You texted Renjun at 12 with the details for the party. 10 pm, casual. You insisted on picking him up; besides, you were already stopping by for Chenle, Jisung, and Mark.

It was only 9 when Renjun became annoyed. Chenle was chatting his head off and Jisung was dropping everything in their kitchen. Renjun always wondered how things turned out like this. He loved all of his friends, but they were all a little annoying sometimes.

Speaking of his friends- Renjun was shocked by the number of friends you had. He originally thought that you were only friends with Chenle and just a casual talker with the others. He was wrong.

When he mentioned that he was going with you, he was bombarded with questions. According to Mark, you were one of his close friends. Jisung knew you as well; you were so close with his family that they took you on vacation with them and a few other friends.

As if it were on cue, you rang the doorbell. Mark hurriedly answered the door and tried to dap you up, but was beaten by a hyper Chenle.

You let the others talk on the way back to the car, walking with Renjun.

The car ride itself was great. Renjun sat in the passenger seat as you drove, the other three squeezing into the back.

You turned on the radio and listened to their singing, which never failed to amaze you. Chenle’s voice was beautiful as always, and Mark’s Khalid impression was just as bad as the first time you heard it.

Street lights reflected on the windows as you cruised through town- Haechan’s parents’ house happened to be a little far from yours. They were out on a trip, so he was holding it there.

Due to the cool weather, the sky was already dark when you got there. There were tons of people; Haechan outdid himself this time.

He greeted you enthusiastically when you arrived, hugging you until it was hard to breathe.

“Renjun!” He exclaimed, jumping onto the boy. “You came!”

Renjun laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Hey, Hyuck.”

You led the boys into the house as Haechan went off to socialize some more, dragging Mark off with him. Soon enough, Chenle had swept Jisung away, and you were left alone with Renjun.

The house was dark, the only light coming from bright and colorful lights. The ambiance of the place was strangely comfortable, complete with a pink tint.

It was crowded, people swarming the halls. Loud music blasted throughout the house, providing a pretty good dance floor.

Renjun looked at the crowd hesitantly and turned back to you. You could feel the awkward energy, so you led him to the kitchen, which was surprisingly empty.

“What do you want?” You asked, already rummaging through Haechan’s cabinets.

“What?” Renjun asked back.

“To drink.” You answered, already pouring your share of tequila and soda into a red cup. “I can check the fridge for soju too.”

“Oh, I don’t drink much.” He replied, leaning onto the countertop.

You hummed softly, sipping your drink.

Turning back to Renjun, you smiled. “Wanna get out of here?”

You led him into the main room, drinking with Kun. After mingling for a while and talking to your other friends, you spotted Renjun laughing with Doyoung. Doyoung saw you from across the room and flashed his sweet smile. Renjun made eye contact and made his way toward you.

He followed you through the crowd until you found a distant corner, away from prying eyes.

“This was… better than I expected.” He admitted.

“And you said you weren’t a party person.” You said, smirking. He laughed.

There was silence. Renjun looked into your eyes, admiring the way that they glowed. You looked into his. The noise was reduced to nothing but a quiet buzz. Soon enough, your gaze traveled to his lips.

You walked closer to him until you were only inches away from his face.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked quietly.

Renjun hesitated. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”.

“I’m serious.” You answered, inching closer and tracing his jaw with your fingers.

He looked at you, the blush on his cheeks barely visible in the dim light.

His heart began to beat faster as you cupped his chin and led him closer, lips meeting against one another.

Renjun’s eyes fluttered shut as he melted into your touch, back pressed against the wall. He pulled you in closer, deepening the kiss. You nibbled slightly on his bottom lip, slipping your tongue into his mouth lightly.

You tasted bittersweet, the peach-flavored tequila still lingering in your mouth. Renjun’s lips were soft and pillowy, melding against yours perfectly.

The kiss was sloppy and inexperienced, clashing in a somewhat awkward manner. Neither of you knew what you were doing, but everything felt so right.

It was short and sweet. You pulled away, heart hammering in your chest. Renjun looked bewildered by what he had just done, face flushing a deeper shade of pink, the taste of alcohol still prominent on his tongue.

“I thought you didn’t drink?” You teased, surprised by his eagerness.

“This is an exception.” He whispered breathlessly, still gazing into your eyes.

The moment was interrupted by a crazily drunk Jisung, falling on to you and knocking you off Renjun. Chenle was just as drunk, wrapping an arm around Renjun. You rolled your eyes, pushing Jisung off of you, but supporting his body.

You saw Mark hurry over apologetically, offering an awkward laugh.

“Sorry, y/n. Do you mind taking them home?”

“Yeah, sure.” You said, turning to Renjun. “Let’s get out of here.”

One car ride later and two wasted friends forced into bed, you bid yourself goodbye. Just as you slipped on your shoes, Renjun stopped you at the door.

“I had fun.” He said, hands in his pockets. The look in his eyes told a thousand words, but nether of you were ready to say them.

“Me too,” You replied. “I’ll look forward to next time.”

That night, you both went to bed with a smile on your faces, the kiss replaying in your heads.

a/n: day 1 is here! It’s a little fast paced. Renjun is very confused about his emotions rn so give him some time!

tagging (taglist open): @canigetaglassoffullsun @cathy-1997

#sub!nct #sub!nct dream #sub!renjun #sub!kpop #nct fluff #nct x reader #renjun #renjun fanfic #renjun x reader #nct dream #nct fanfic #soulmate au #first love au #NCT #nct renjun #huang renjun #hwang renjun #dom!reader #dove's works 📝

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selineram3421 · 11 months

Text

*little dancey dance* I got snacks.

Isekai'd

Part 6: The One Bullet

Part 5

Warning! ⚠

⚠ cussing, weapons and guns(pew pew), reader is surprisingly calm, all caps for screeching dialog, bold red italics = sound effects, the probability of death is inching closer and closer ⚠

"Of course this would happen!", you say pacing around your room that you got at a nearby Inn. "Thank you SO much universe! I really wanted to be fucking yeeted into a hell hole of a planet and get stuck in the clusterfuck of events!"

You threw down your coat and let out a frustrated yell, kicking the foot of the bed.

"JUST MY FUCKING LUCK!", you huff and sit down on the bed, starting to calm yourself down.

Ok, think. Its not long till the July military police get here. You look out of your room window. I probably have enough time to get a .22 caliber bullet.

Putting on your coat, you got ready and made sure to take your scythe.

As the suns began to set, you made your way over to see the duel. Making sure to stand nearby to give the bullet to the lady from the diner.

The crazy ass captain shot out the cluster bomb and screams went off.

"Vash! Get down here!", Rosa shouted up at the blonde.

"Tell everyone to take cover!", he responded and turned around to face the falling bombs.

5.....4....3...2..1. You count down in your head.

"BULLETS! I COULD REALLY USE SOME BULLETS!", Vash shouts out after rushing towards the edge of the cliff he's on. "A FEW .22 CALIBERS WOULD BE DANDY!!"

You calmly walk over to the woman backing up.

"COME ON GUYS! ANY TIME NOW!?"

" 'Scuse me Ma'am.", you startle the woman when tapping her shoulder.

"Huh?", she looks at you confused.

"Bullet.", you say and hold it out to her.

She gets the message quickly and takes the bullet before making her way to Meryl.

Whelp, I've done my bit for today. You think and start walking away, not wanting to feel the heat from the explosives.

You don't notice the woman looking for you to properly give thanks.

"HURRY! HELP! PLEASE!! I NEED AMMO!", Vash yells before crying out in stress, tears streaming down his face as he lifts his hands to the sides of his head.

"Special delivery!"

The blonde turns his head when hearing Meryl.

"It's from Rosa!", the small woman shouts before reeling back her arm and throwing the one bullet at him.

He jumps to catch it but the bullet is shot out of his reach by the captain.

Not wasting any time, he runs after it.

"Come to daddy!", he gasps between breaths, pushing himself to go faster.

Jumping forward with an outstretched arm, it feels like time slows down as he manages to catch the bullet.

"Got'cha!"

Quickly moving to load the gun, he mumbles, "Much obliged.", in relief as he puts the bullet in the barrel.

As he aims up to the sky, his gun is shot by the captain.

"I don't think so!", the man in uniform says as he runs over to shoot at the blonde.

Vash dodges the bullets quickly and flips the man over his shoulder, letting him bounce off the ground before hitting the man on the back of his neck to knock him out.

Running over to get a piece of the rock, the ace gunman breaks it out before tossing it up high into the air with a shout and takes aim.

BANG!

The rock breaks apart when shot and the pieces shoot off, hitting the bombs surrounding it.

It only takes a second for all of them to explode. The power of the blast forms a dust cloud that extends until it falls off of the rock.

After the July police were detained, the town threw a party at the diner to celebrate.

Vash walks over to the bar and waves at the pregnant woman on the other side. "Thanks Rosa! If it wasn't for your bullet, we wouldn't be here.", he smiles, leaning on the bar counter.

"Don't thank me. Some stranger gave it to me.", she says, getting drinks to serve to one of the tables.

"What? Really?", the blonde says surprised. "Are they still around?"

"Can't say. When I looked back to thank them, they disappeared.", she says and goes out from behind the counter. "Must have been an angel."

Rosa leaves him be and makes her way over to the table with singing drunks.

"An angel?", he blinks.

For some reason, the medic he met a while back comes to mind.

No way. He shakes his head and goes back to his table. It couldn't have been them.

...

Could it?

You were back in your room, making a list of medical supplies to buy before all Hell breaks loose.

Mother fucking Knives. You think and grumble out a few more curses.

"I'm gonna end up broke because of you.", you huff, letting your head fall back and look up at the ceiling.

Doesn't matter, as long as I can help out to ease his conscience. You tell yourself.

Then all of a sudden you feel your ears burn.

"What the heck?", you say and touch one of your ears. "Is someone talking about me?"

You shrug and get ready for bed.

I should sleep now, I'm gonna need the energy for tomorrow. You think and have a feeling that another weird dream is waiting for you.

✴

For some reason you snapped your eyes open.

Standing up and looking around, you find the ship's green house empty. No Rem or little Vash in sight.

Weird. You think, not moving from your spot. Someone's always here.

Then when you decide to turn around, you see an almost identical blonde child standing behind you.

Freezing on the spot, you just stare.

WHAT THE FUCK!? NAI YOU LITTLE CREEP!

"Vermin.", the pale blue eyed boy says randomly.

Did this.. You get pissed off. This little shit!

"Oh please, not every human is trash.", you respond. "Yeah a good amount of them are but that doesn't mean all of them have to die."

All the boy does is frown at you.

"Whatever, all you're doing is trying to protect your brother.", you say and turn away from him to look at the red flowered meadow. "You do carry it out in the worst possible way though."

Silence settles in between both of you after.

At some point you look over at the kid and find him standing next to you, also looking at the flowers.

Not wanting to break whatever 'peace' this is, you look back at the flowers.

...

"Do you think you can protect him?"

✴

I re-watched episode one over and over to get it right.

~Seline, the person.

Next: Part 7

Taglist@

@summerdazed @lunar-archangel @+?

ML Vash | ChL Isekai'd

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captainsophiestark · 1 year

Text

Thunderbolts and Lightning

Oliver Wood x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my Year of Olympians, part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023 which features a ton of creators and runs all year! Go check it out if you haven’t already!

Fandom: Harry Potter

Prompt: Zeus; the sky, lightning, thunder

Summary: Oliver Wood is *determined* to make it onto a professional Quidditch team. Tryouts are coming up, but without Y/N to pull him back and keep him in the sanity zone, he might not survive long enough to even make it to the pitch.

Word Count: 2,540

Category: Angst, fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed as I sat down at the breakfast table, my eyes only half-open. I didn't want to be awake at all this early, literally as the sun still rose outside the windows, but Oliver, my boyfriend, needed me. He had tryouts for the major professional Quidditch teams in just four days, and he'd been driving himself crazy with stress and preparation as the big day approached.

As I sank into the chair next to him, trying to muster the energy to chat about literally anything other than Quidditch to help take his mind off things, he stood.

I turned, bleary-eyed, to squint up at Oliver in question. He sighed and tangled a hand in the hair at the back of my neck, staring at me fondly before leaning in to place a soft kiss on my lips. Then, he pulled back and stepped a few paces away, and I realized he was wearing his Quidditch clothes.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but I've got to go get some more practice hours in," he said. He looked just as tired as I did, and he slouched despite the broom over his shoulder. The prospect of playing Quidditch usually lit him up like a Christmas tree, but not now. "The tryout's only three days away, and I can't waste this opportunity."

"I- Oliver, are you sure?" I asked, trying to gather my thoughts as I struggled to stand up. I was not awake yet. "You've been working yourself ragged lately, maybe you should take a break-"

"I can't afford to take a break. I have to ace this tryout, which means I have to get as much practice as possible before then."

"Okay, but Ollie-"

"I'm alright, love, I promise," he said, pausing long enough to give me a confident (if tired) smile. "I'll see you later tonight. If you're up for it, maybe you could help me practice a little later too. The charmed Quaffles are great, but you're definitely a better Chaser than a charm."

I just stared back at him, my brain still operating a little slowly. He gave me another smile, then raised his wand and swished it confidently through the air. Just like that, he disappeared.

I sighed. The only thing I wanted to do was go back to bed, immediately. But I loved Oliver more than I wanted to go back to sleep. And he may have said he was fine, but I didn't believe him for half a second.

Just like at Hogwarts, I needed to suit up and head to the Quidditch pitch at the crack of dawn. And, just like Hogwarts, I needed to make sure my wonderful, driven, fantastic, and crazy boyfriend didn't completely run himself into the ground in pursuit of his goals.

Suddenly more awake now that I knew Oliver needed me, I rushed to put on my Quidditch robes. I shot a blast of magic back over my shoulder with my wand, quickly brewing a pot of coffee while I changed. I grabbed as much caffeine as I could in a go-mug, then moved to where Oliver stood a few seconds ago and Disapparated to the Quidditch pitch.

I arrived to find dark clouds moving quickly over the pitch, starting to block out the barely-risen sun. Still, my boyfriend hovered between the hoops, bewitched Quaffles flying at his face. He blocked one after the other with no problem, like he always did. He didn't need this practice. He needed to take care of himself. But this was basically the only way he knew how to handle stress.

I sighed, then used my wand to disappear my empty coffee cup before hopping on my broom, pushing off, and taking to the sky.

"Ollie!" I called, waving to him as I got closer to the pack of hovering Quaffles. He looked confused for a second, but then his face lit up when he saw me.

"Y/N! You came!" he cried. I sighed, but smiled at him nonetheless.

"Of course! I'm always here for you, no matter what."

We shared a soft look, and my heart warmed despite the distance between us, the biting wind cutting through my robes, and the tiredness still hovering around me. Then, I grabbed the nearest Quaffle, and we began.

Oliver locked into the zone quickly, and I could see his brain working a mile a minute as I streaked across the field towards him, Quaffle ready to throw. Despite my best efforts, Oliver blocked almost everything that came at him, just like I knew he would. He really didn't need this practice; he was a cinch for the pros.

Still, he wanted to keep working, so I kept flying down the pitch at him. The sky continued to darken around us and the wind picked up, but I didn't say anything until the first few drops of rain started to fall.

"Oliver?" I called, pausing at his end of the pitch after he made another fantastic save. He floated back up to me and tossed me the Quaffle, looking more than ready for the next round, but I didn't budge.

"What's the matter?" he asked. I squinted up at the dark clouds and rain above us, then looked back at Oliver.

"I think it might be time to call it a day," I said. Oliver frowned, looking up at the sky himself for a minute and then shaking his head.

"No, I can't. I need to be able to play in conditions like this, I can't let it beat me." I started to say something in response, but he continued before I could. "If you want to call it a day, though, that's alright. I appreciate all the practice and help you've given me already."

"Honey... don't you think you should take care of yourself? Maybe come in from the cold and rain and give yourself a little rest?"

He waved me off, pulling out his wand to bewitch the Quaffles to fly at him again. "I'm doing fine. What I need is more practice. I'm starting to run out of time before the tryouts, after all."

I frowned, but floated back towards the ground anyway as Oliver resumed his training. I wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up by the fire in sweats with a nice cup of tea, but I couldn't bring myself to leave Oliver. So instead, I settled for huddling under the overhang of some of the stands around the pitch, slightly out of the rain and wind, and watching him.

As time went on, the storm just got worse. I was almost soaked to the bone, so I couldn't imagine how wet and tired Oliver must be getting up there. A bolt of lightning struck in the sky not too far from us, and I decided enough was enough.

I jumped back on my broom and took to the sky, determined to retrieve my boyfriend before he got seriously hurt or ill. I made it about halfway to him, then called over the wind and rain to try to get his attention.

"Ollie! I think you need to come in!"

He looked at me, seeming a little concerned, and then the next thing I knew a bolt of white hot light came streaking out of the sky and made contact with the front end of his broom.

"Oliver!" I screamed, my voice breaking as my boyfriend's broom exploded under him. He sank through the air, going limp and falling off the side, and after a second of panic I raced after him.

By some miracle, I managed to catch him before he hit the ground. He was incredibly heavy, so we half-flew half-fell to the ground, but I managed to keep him from hitting at full speed. As soon as we touched down in the grass, I started to drag him towards the pitch's locker rooms, the nearest possible shelter. Thank God he started to come to as we walked, and although he was more than a little delirious, he stumbled along next to me with an arm across my shoulders and my arm around his waist.

I shoved open the door to the locker rooms and Oliver and I stumbled through, leaving the storm behind us. I helped set him down on the nearest bench, then dropped to my knees in front of him, checking him over as quickly as I could for any sign of injury.

"Oliver? Are you okay?" I breathed, only half expecting an answer. He nodded, slowly, and after another minute or two I came to the conclusion that he was more rattled than actually hurt.

I sighed a massive breath of relief, then stood before collapsing down on the bench next to Oliver. We just sat there for a second, together in total silence, recovering from the shock of the past few minutes. Then, slowly, Oliver reached out and took my hand. He didn't turn to look at me, but he squeezed my hand, then spoke.

"Thank you for saving me," he said. I sighed and squeezed his hand back, closing my eyes for a minute. Then, I turned to face him.

"Oliver. I will always save you if I can. But the next time you decide to go do something insane like this, I might not be around to save you," I said. "I mean... what if I had decided to go back to bed this morning, like I was first planning to? What if you had left before I woke up, and I didn't know you were out here? You could be dead right now, Oliver!"

"I know, Y/N, I know..."

"No, Ollie, I don't think you do." I paused and took a deep breath, then took Oliver's hands again and faced him a little better on the bench. He met my eyes, and it gave me a warm feeling in my chest. "Oliver, you are so driven and determined. You've been working for this for your entire life, and it's wonderful to see how hard you're working for that goal. But you can't keep completely sacrificing and disregarding your own health and wellbeing for stuff like this. You just can't."

He sighed heavily, dropping his head a bit to stare at the floor. We stayed like that in silence for a few beats, and I let my words settle. Then, finally, he looked back up at me.

"You're right, I suppose," he said. "But I just... I can't make myself stop. Like you said, I've been working for this my entire life. For the most part, this has been my life. Quidditch, and almost nothing else. I... I'm terrified, Y/N, that after all the work I put in, all the time I dedicated... it's all going to be for nothing. If I fail this tryout, it all goes to waste, and I stop being able to do the thing I love."

"Oh, Oliver," I sighed, rubbing my hand up and down his arm to try to offer him some kind of comfort. I leaned into him, then continued. "I know it's probably not going to make you feel much better now, but this one single tryout is anything but the end for you."

He scoffed, clearly not believing my words, but I didn't let that deter me.

"First of all, there are plenty of players who didn't do well on their first tryout and had to come back and try it again," I said. "Some of your favorite players in fact, if memory serves."

Oliver hummed, giving me a little bit of acknowledgement, which I took as a good sign.

"And besides that, even if, for whatever reason, you don't make a professional team, that doesn't have to be the end-all be-all for doing what you love. You can always play for fun, or somewhere else without necessarily being on one of the fancy professional teams. You could even coach! But either way, there's plenty of ways for you to continue doing what you love, no matter the results of this tryout."

Oliver hummed as I leaned into him and continued.

"Besides, you don't need to worry anyway. You're the best damn Quidditch player I've ever seen, and I went to the Scotland vs Canada World Cup a few years ago."

Oliver huffed a laugh, but the small smile stayed on his face. He seemed to be feeling a little cheerier, thankfully, since he'd been in a very bad place almost all day. I gave him a second, resting my head on his shoulder as I could hear the storm quieting outside, before I played my last card to finish making my case.

"Not to mention, Oliver, that you can't play Quidditch if you're dead thanks to a lightning strike after insisting on practicing in insane weather like this."

He took a deep breath in, and I leaned back to look at him as he let the breath out in a long, long sigh. Finally, after a second, he turned to me.

"You're not wrong," he sighed, giving my hand a light squeeze. I met his warm brown eyes as he continued. "I don't want to have to resort to any other opportunities, but if I get struck by lightning, that's going to hurt my chances at these tryouts more than anything else could."

He hesitated, glancing briefly at the ground, and then he met my eyes again, his attention more focused on me than it had been in any of the Quidditch craziness so far.

"Thank you, Y/N. For taking care of me. Especially when I'm so bad at taking care of myself."

I gave him a soft smile, happy to be here with him, especially after watching him literally get blown out of the sky.

"I'll always watch out for you, Ollie. I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N."

I leaned in at the same time as him, sharing a soft, lingering kiss before pulling apart. After a second, he sighed, then stood up from the bench.

"It doesn't look like the weather's going to be good enough for practice any time soon," he announced. "So, what do you say we go home and rest by the fire instead?"

"Oliver, I can't think of anything I'd want more," I said with a smile as I stood to join him. He met my smile with a tired one of his own, then took my hand before gathering up both of our brooms.

"Would you do the honors?" he asked. I nodded.

"I'll even make the tea, if you're willing to start the fire."

"You have a deal," he said. We shared another calm, comfortable smile, and then I raised my wand and disapparated both of us back to our cozy, wonderful apartment. As promised, Oliver went to put our brooms away before going to start the fire as I got tea started on the stove. Before today, I honestly couldn't have imagined Oliver willingly taking a break from Quidditch to relax with me at home. And although it would probably still be a fairly rare occurrence, after today it seemed far less than completely impossible.

Nothing like a near-death experience to completely change someone's life view, I suppose.

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