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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 months

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Yandere! GILF Headcanons

Warnings: Implied Smut, Older Man/Younger Reader, Age Gap, Spanking, Jealous Dominic, Manipulation, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

♡ Hector had only loved once before meeting you. Likewise, he had only loved once after meeting you. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in you.

♡ On the contrary, when Dominic had pulled up to the sprawling manor Hector orchestrated, expecting to see Marilyn at his side yet seeing an unfamiliar face in her stead, his curiosity was, admittedly, peaked. No small achievement considering this man has done and seen everything this world has to offer.

♡ Dominic explained – in monotone French – that Marilyn was sick, hence she couldn’t come. He’d brought you – a family friend – in her place. You couldn’t ignore the waver in his voice, his pointed stare up at his father, who resided in an almost throne-like armchair behind a mahogany desk.

♡ Hector looked through Dominic and gazed at you. You could see now where Dominic’s predilection for sharp, underhanded stares originated; the founding father of Dominic’s cold architecture.

♡ You felt as if his eyes combed over your very being, unravelling all the tangles in your make-up and laying you down to your most base, threadbare foundations, seeing you for what you really were.

♡ “Very well,” the older man grumbled, only taking his eyes off you once Dominic cleared his throat. Beside you, his son’s fingers twitched.

♡ You were excused shortly after with Dominic taking you outside, almost jogging down the steps with a haste you’d never witnessed before, and bringing you to a most isolated spot. You’d noticed a collection of staff – chefs, maids, caretakers, gardeners – crawling about the mansion. None of them resided near you now.

♡ “Don’t talk to him unless you’re with me,“ Dominic warned. In his eyes watched a man you’d never seen before. Something vaguely…human in the colour of his irises. Warm. Afraid.

♡ Interaction with Dominic’s father – Hector – was uncomfortable at first. You’d tried to juggle Hector’s hostile hospitality with Dominic’s warnings, ultimately toing and forming between the two since they never inhabited the same space for more than ten minutes whenever meals were served.

♡ One day, when Dominic had to leave the manor on important business, unable to take you with him, he’d instructed you to stay in your room. He tried to smooth over the jagged brickwork of his command with a suave charm that could put the incarnation of panic at ease, but you could tell – for perhaps the first time – that it felt false.

♡ Dominic left. Hours passed. You grew bored.

♡ You left your room.

♡ And who did you happen to meet whilst trawling the halls, searching for any form of entertainment?

♡ Why, the very man Dominic had forbidden you from seeing.

♡ Hector came down the hall on certain footing, obviously having taken great care of his mobility in his younger years to be able to traverse the many staircases and rooms this residence held. So why did he have so many caretakers?

♡ You scarcely had time to wonder as, before you could hide, he spotted you. Ordered you to come to him. You did, hesitant. He gave you a monotone look.

♡ “You. Come with me.”

♡ You followed him to a door that felt familiar. Inside, his study. On his desk, a pre-set game of chess. He sat at his desk. He motioned for you to join him.

♡ You, with a pounding heart and a strong sense of being out of place, played chess. Hector taught you the best way to win – “For when you compete against Dominic.”

♡ You bantered, lethargic at first, until you found even footing on subjects that weren't just Hector’s only son.

♡ You wondered what it was about his father that Dominic was so keen to isolate you from, to conceal from you.

♡ Nothing you cared for, honestly. Especially when Hector showed you just how solid his sense of humour was, how intelligent he was. How lively he could be despite his initial coldness.

♡ Of course, he was still icy, very blunt most of the time. But you could tell it wasn’t his choice – he was made this way. By who or what, you couldn’t be sure. But what you did know was that you weren’t about to let Dominic’s personal vendetta ruin your budding friendship with his father.

♡ No longer did you hide from Hector’s judgement as you scampered back to your room, the shutting of the front door reverberating through the manor’s great walls; you sought refuge from Dominic’s as he came storming down the hallway, his footfalls faster than he’d have liked them to be as he rushed to check on your condition, to see you after being forced to leave you in his father’s un-care.

♡ After that, you made more of an effort to see Hector. Especially as you had few other people to talk to – Dominic especially as he seemed more and more swept up in sudden business meetings and last-minute supply chain issues.

♡ The longer you spent in Hector’s presence – in the garden, in the library, in his study for more games of chess – the more you began to see slivers of him in Dominic. Scratchings of silver beneath rock; the inclinations of a vein of purest ore.

♡ Though, that did not mean the metal that lay dormant beneath was pure in itself.

♡ On the contrary, when you weren’t around, Hector made full – and I mean full – use of the maids, caretakers and staff at his disposal. Anyone who bore a similar enough resemblance to you was subject to any manner of his objectification.

♡ Lasting stares, increasingly lewd requests, commands to snoop through the few personal belongings you’ve brought with you – the sort of thing any powerful older man will do for the object of their affections.

♡ Sexual matters aren’t off the table, either.

♡ Far from it.

♡ In fact, it’s bent over the edge of Hector’s desk, whining and whimpering and at the mercy of a man far more experienced than his old age could belie.

♡ He’s so nasty with it, too. He knows his workers will do anything he asks of them – for the right price. And he’s got nothing but money to burn.

♡ God forbid his most recent toy talks back to him, lest they be subject to a thorough spanking by Hector’s belt.

♡ He’s still more than capable of getting himself off without the assistance of his employees, though. He just enjoys the power he has over them. Enjoys the taste of the influence he’ll have over you.

♡ Guy’s a wealthy man, he’s got cameras everywhere. And Dominic knows this. Hence he’s always around to cover you up when you’re getting changed – even if it makes him look somewhat questionable.

♡ You’re for his eyes only, but he knows his father will find a way to try and sneak a peek of you – to show Dominic that, while in his house, you’re both under his rules.

♡ As was the case now as Hector requested for you come to his study for afternoon tea.

♡ While there, making light conversation, he dropped a question that hung, heavy, between you in a way you couldn’t quite describe/

♡ “Did I ever tell you,” began Hector, knowing full-well he’s not once recounted this tale to you. His old age will afford him the disguise of senility, if only for a short while. You’ll listen, politely.

♡ “About Dominic’s mother?”

♡ You tell him no, that not even Dominic has ever mentioned his mother – or his family – to you before. Hector hummed. Grumbled, more so.

♡ The void in his chest sank lower as he recalled to you the greatest love of his life.

♡ “Too good for this world,” he said, regaling her acts of altruism, of philanthropy. “Someone upstairs must’ve known it, too.”

♡ You had a feeling that ‘upstairs’ transcended far beyond the many dusty rooms Hector had advised you and Dominic not to go exploring during your time here.

♡ He told you, with practiced malcontent, how Dominic’s birth would be his mother’s un-birth; her escort from this life to the next. Hector sniffed, though not for tears. You still jolted forward to comfort him, though.

♡ And he wasn't one to reject your offer.

♡ The portrait of his wife – young and beautiful for a cruel infinity – watched over the two of you.

♡ “So you see,” he continued, “That’s why Dominic doesn’t visit – or I’m willing to guess, talk about – me as much as you perhaps do with your parents.”

♡ Of course, you understood perfectly where he was coming from. Something in him grinned at the idea of even a drop of a villainous hue staining Dominic’s curated disguise, making him scrub and scrub at the veneer until it wore away and revealed the corpse beneath piloted by parasites.

♡ You tell Hector that if he ever wants to talk, you’re always down to listen. Hector grants you a small smile. Artificial warmth. Gently, he slides his hand atop yours, pats it.

♡ You are the singular object his son desires. Hence, you are the object he shall steal from him, for there is no better form of discipline than loss.

♡ And Hector wants Dominic to know what it’s like to lose everything.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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#yandere #yandere male #male yandere #original yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere gilf #yandere gilf x reader #yandere blog #tw yandere #yandere writing #yanderecore #sweet as an angel #yancore #yandere community

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i-cant-sing · 11 months

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I don’t see any Castlevania asks and that makes me sad as HELL

How would (Y/N) react to Lisa’s burning? How would Dracula’s war court react to her? And Hector and Isaac?

I'm gonna go down the platonic route and make reader Lisa and Dracula's daughter, biological or kidnapped/adopted.

Obviously, any normal human would not react well to anyone being burned at the stake- ALIVE. And maybe when the villagers caught Lisa, they caught you as well and thought you were a witch too. They burned your mother first and just when they had started to burn you, Dracula came and swooped you up and away, along with his now dead wife's remains and while you passed out due to inhaling all the smoke, sustaining some minor burn injuries and well- EXHAUSTION AND TRAUMA, your father returned to slay the entire village and later wreak havoc on all of humanity. Really, a justified reaction from a family man.

Anyways, he returns home with you in his arms and then nurses you back to health all while killing everyone outside. Now, he may still be soft to you but you are absolutely forbidden from leaving the castle. Like you cant even go outside even if Dracula accompanies you. No, he's lost his wife and if youre their bio kid who is more human than vampire unlike your older brother Alucard, then Dracula is way more protective of you. After all, he did see you almost die and really, you remind him far too much of his wife, of her humanity and her kind heart to help others that eventually got her killed.

Initially, right after Lisa's death, Dracula didn't even allow you to even leave your room, too paranoid about some unknown force killing you and him not being able to save you in time. Eventually though, with other vampires and monsters(under his control obv) in the castle, he let you out of your room, but still not out of the castle, and thats when you found out that he had thrown out Alucard and (sort of disowned him??) because your brother was not in favour of Dracula either killing the world or locking you up.

Now, like I said before, Dracula is still soft for you but with Lisa's death he's become a little... emotionally crippled. He has too much pain and hatred inside him, and he's doing his very best that you dont end up on the receiving end of these very negative and very dangerous emotions. However, he sometimes... loses control. When you keep on persisting about how all of this is wrong, about how he shouldnt kill ALL humans, how he shouldnt lock you up or break what remains of this family, he lets his anger out on you. Only a little. He'd yell at you, tell you that you're far too stupid an naive and stubborn to understand what he's doing or why, ask if you're going to side with those murderers that you so desperately want to save over your own family? Are you that blind? He'd drag you back to your room, lock you in there because he wont have you questioning him like he's the bad guy here.

But soon after that, he'd be found sitting in front of one of Lisa's portraits, probably one where she's cradling baby you and he'd start talking to her, trying to explain himself, how he did not mean to blow up at you but you just wouldn't listen to him. The one sided conversation would always end with Dracula feeling guilty and he returns to your room with a heavy heart that just sinks more when he sees you asleep, tear streaks now drying on your cheeks. Sitting on your bed, he'd pet your hair, mumble something about how he loves you and cant afford to risk losing you, smiling softly when you shuffle closer to him.

Since Dracula knows Hector is loyal and sincere to him, he will allow you to have him as your friend. After all, you would need some company in the castle and vampire dad on murder spree is not exactly someone who is ideal for friendship at the moment. So, he permits and even encourages Hector to socialise with you and comfort you. And Hector has a bleeding heart too, so you're in luck because he will happily listen to you express your emotions and provide you with free therapy (he makes dead, one missing limb/eye puppies alive for you🥺) He just wanna protect u too, and while he doesnt agree with you being locked up in the castle, its better than the alternative. Also, has and will fight Isaac 1000% if he talks shit about you because youre human.

As for the court, they know that you are now the only thing dear to Dracula, and while one wouldnt say that you have the vampire king wrapped around your finger, he comes pretty close to it. But its no use really because they cant exactly use you to make Dracula listen to them... or can they?

Considering that you're pretty against the whole "Vampire uprising-kill all humans" plan, they cant persuade you to enslave or kill humans. What they can do is gain Dracula's favour by being... kind to you? Okay take Carmilla for example (because she's the only one I can remember from the court. Her and the brash, red haired vamp?) Now she's smart, she's manipulative and she knows exactly how to use this opportunity. She starts to befriend you by first agreeing that she understands why you're against your father's actions but also tells you that you must understand his decisions from his side. "Your mother was a kind woman, a brilliant doctor and from what I've heard, your father loved her very much. And if you've ever been in love, then you would understand why he's doing all of this." And of course Dracula overhears this because come on, nothing happens in his castle without his knowledge. So yes, he shows slight favouritism towards Carmilla among the court and he may allow her to hang around you a bit (only after Carmilla convinced him that you needed a female friend in your life, and its always better to be in her company than any of those perverted men of his court) but even then, Dracula doesn't completely trust her around you and so he wont allow you two be in contact often.

Dracula would also be way more conscious of your feelings with time, because he will realise eventually that he was far too caught up in his own pain and plan for vengeance that he forgot to see how you were coping with the loss of your mother. If any of the vampires are heard saying something even remotely mean to you, if he even hears Isaac even breathing in disgust at the sight of you because you were part human, they will be swiftly dealt with (girl, he murders them all).

You're his baby, his sweet human kid, his little princess and he wont have anyone or anything taking you away from him. (LET HIM PULL YOU IN HIS LAP AND WRAP HIS CLOAK AROUND YOU AND DRIFT OFF IN HIS ARMS BECAUSE YOU'RE THE ONLY WARMTH LEFT FOR HIS COLD DEAD HEART OMGGGG)

Ah i miss Castlevania asks too, platonic yandere castlevania asks especially. everyone send in ur asks.

(omg what about yandere brother Trevor Belmont?)

#yandere castlevania #yandere dracula #yandere alucard #yandere hector #castlevania x reader #yandere lisa tepes #dracula tepes #dracula x reader #dracula x reader x lisa

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pinkmirth · 1 month

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❤︎ ⋆ ࣪ ˖ 𝒞𝐻ℰ𝑅𝑅𝒴-𝒫𝐼𝒞𝒦𝐼𝒩𝒢!

𝒮𝑌𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 ⨾ a little looksie into the castlevania men and their particular preferences . . . aka, the unavoidable “ass or tits” question!

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜𝐼𝒩𝒮 ⨾ ( 800+ words of . . . ) multi!castlevania men x fem!reader (black coded); adrian ‘alucard’ tepes, trevor belmont, richter belmont, isaac laforeze, hector forgemaster, count olrox, mizrak, & vlad ‘dracula’ tepes; missionary, doggy, mutual masturbation, thigh-fucking, bdsm (spanking), explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

𝑀𝒴 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸 𝐿𝐸𝒯𝒯𝐸ℛ! ⨾ yes, i am being trivial and shallow because it’s fun & that’s a good enough reason! inspired by this post here; i just had to whip up something for our favorite wallachian men >.< please enjoy, and thanks for reading! 🎀

𝒜𝐿𝑈𝒞𝒜𝑅𝒟!

it’s far too obvious, i think; but he loves. him. some. boobies! adrian’s a tits man through and through, even if he’s got too much decorum to admit it. his actions say it all, though— he loves to lick them, knead them, tease your nipples with his teeth, rest his head between them, gently cup either one whenever he’s embracing you from behind . . . he’ll even motorboat them if he’s feeling naughtier than usual. now, that’s all out of pure habit. intimately, though? slotting his twitchy cock between your boobs is surely his favorite; and then there’s those times when he’s got you laid upon your back while he's situated between your spread legs, fucking into you from above. his cold palms lie at your waist, grip going tight whenever you squeeze around his pulsing dick, and his golden eyes are stuck your breasts like it’s all they’re good for. the way they bounce and jiggle with his pace is nothing short of mesmerizing. coming all over them in the end will make him lose his fucking head. whether it’s an unaddressed mommy kink or otherwise, he just can’t get enough of you (and the girls!) let him suck your titties and his entire day is made.

𝒯𝑅𝐸𝒱𝑂𝑅!

ass. completely, absolutely, undeniably, ass. he’ll smack it, eat it, grope it, anything. trevor pinches your butt whenever he wants a rise out of you, just to see how much you’ll blow up at him. (he finds it cute, sue him!) and, smacks at it whenever you’re feeding him an attitude. if he starts grabbing at it with rough palms, you already know what he wants; to fuck your shit up. unexpectedly, doggy’s the first and foremost position he’ll fold you into once you reach that bed! trevor curves over your arched frame, grinning at the ripple of your asscheeks against his pelvis. he’ll spit pure fucking venom into your ear while you take him. seals it off with coating your plump, pretty ass with his seed. the happiest man alive, he now is.

𝑅𝐼𝒞𝐻𝒯𝐸𝑅!

both! there are men out there who simply can’t bring themselves to choose, because both are far too precious; and richie’s one of them. how could you even expect him to pick? both parts of you are so soft, round, and feminine . . . if you allow him to get his hands on either, he wouldn’t mind in the slightest. this belmont’s skilled with his hands, might i add; his breast massages make you slump into him whine for more, and spankings don’t even feel like a punishment with him. as long as he can kiss down your body, mark the canvas of your flesh, and caress anything you’ve got in a pair of two, rich’s all yours.

𝐼𝒮𝒜𝒜𝒞!

thighs! it isn’t necessarily a given option, but then again, this man isn't like the others. he loves the fullness of them, how warm to the touch they are whenever he rests a hand at your lap, and finds them to be the greatest pillow the entire world could offer. you stroking at his smooth scalp while he nudges his face into your thighs is his idea of paradise. speaking of, this man is king of thigh-fucking!!!! slots his cock in between the warmth od your inner thighs, urges you to keep them closed tight, and makes a mess of them by the time he’s done. his cum releases in streams, and spurts out to drip down your lap. but don’t worry, his tongue’s already out; as a gentleman, isaac always makes sure to clean up his messes.

𝐻𝐸𝒞𝒯𝒪ℛ!

tits! they’re perfectly squishy, which helps considering that he’s got loads of stress to rid himself of. one-finger less isn’t stopping him from giving the girls their much deserved attention! he’s slipping under your bra, brushing past your nipples, and kneading the mounds like he’s got nothing better to do. you know what’s his favorite thing to do with you and the girls? having you on your back with him kneeling above you, desperately tugging at his cock right before your face. you bring a hand down to swipe at your clit and match his pace; god, he swears you’re drooling. you suckle at his tip, and it’s enough stimulation to bring him to his peak. he’s then cumming all over your chest, some reaching your spit-streaked lips. has he ever mentioned how beautiful you look this way?

𝐵𝒪𝒩𝒰𝒮!

dracula simply adores thighs! a man of culture, this one is. as for olrox, he loves him some (man) titties. a nice, broad and firm chest is enough to put a smile on his face and a tent in his pants. then there’s mizrak, the ass-lover. grabbing it is his favorite past-time >.<

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dapurinthos · 7 months

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Even the smallest of words, like “even” (“per” in Greek), can create enormously consequential interpretive challenges for the translator. In Book 24 of the “Iliad,” the goddess Thetis visits her mortal son, Achilles, who is prostrate with grief for his dead friend, Patroclus. Achilles is still dragging the corpse of Patroclus’s killer, Hector, around the city walls every day, and still refusing to eat, drink or have sex — the normal activities of mortals. The goddess asks her son how long he will “devour” his heart with grief, rather than eating normal bread, and she reminds him that it is also good to have sex, or more literally (as I render it) to “join in love” — “even with a woman.” On the most linguistically straightforward reading, the phrase suggests that his mother thinks Achilles would prefer to join with someone other than a woman — such as Patroclus, his beloved dead friend. This may be a surprise, given that earlier in “The Iliad,” the two men were described as sharing their beds with enslaved women, and they are never described by Homer as having sex with each other — although by the 5th and 4th centuries B.C., readers such as Aeschylus and Plato certainly assumed that they were lovers. Is Thetis suddenly “outing” her son? Or is she simply acknowledging the depth of his desire to be with his dead companion? Translators sometimes leave the word out entirely (Fagles: “It’s a welcome thing to make love with a woman”) or apply the emphasis to the activity, not the partner (Lattimore: “even to lie with a woman”; Caroline Alexander, “Indeed, it is good to lie with a woman”) — although this is not a natural reading of the Greek word order. I do not think it is generally the translator’s job to correct or fight against the text; hence my decision to settle on the simple “even with a woman.” Readers can decide for themselves whether Achilles is yearning to “join” Patroclus in a sexual sense or to mingle with his dear ashes in the tomb.

- Emily Wilson on 5 crucial decisions she made in her ‘Iliad’ translation (link goes to the archive.ph version of the original washington post article due to its paywall)

#emily wilson #the iliad

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morvantmortuary · 7 months

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sugar high -

(Hector Morvant-Casares x Reader)

summary: Hex invites you along for an afternoon errand.

warnings: brief descriptions of a depressive episode. a shit-ton of fluff. like, syrupy, frothy fluff. I’m not kidding. you watch your teeth.

general: for Spooky Season in the Barrens: apple cider, candy corn, skulls. 🍎💀

I’ll be honest, Hex is not usually my go-to fluff guy, but goddamn if he doesn’t have a whole mushy side when you let him talk a bit.

Any corrections on his Spanish are appreciated - I double-checked everything and tried to stick with Mexican localization, but I’m still learning. :’D

also, I know so much more about the making of calaveras than I did last week. hot damn, those can get involved. any suggestions or needed corrections there (or with any discussion of the holiday) are also appreciated.

reader is as always genderqueer/non-binary (but I stuck to feminine endings for Spanish bc those are what I’m more familiar with, sorry :’D), and I write them as bisexual but that’s not explicitly mentioned here. any tweaks to language so people can have a more seamless experience are always helpful.

okay, hope this helps brighten your day a bit. 🖤

You didn’t even have to look up from your book to know who was calling you, and wasn’t just texting like a normal person.

Without looking up from your page, you reached over and answered with the tap of one finger, then put him on speaker with another. “Who dares?”

“Hey, so, I’m madly in love with you. Do you wanna go out with me? Like, right now, or I’ll die of loneliness?” Hex said it like he was asking about the weather. The mustang’s motor purred in the background, and the faint thud of some dance remix on low drifted through your phone’s speaker like a tinny distant dream.

You smiled, closing your book and setting it beside you on your mattress. “Hmm. That depends.”

“Depends? Ouch. After my very sincere confession?” Hector laughed, making you smile wider. “Depends on what?”

“We-ell.” You stretched the syllable out as you stretched in turn, then collapsed back onto your pillows. “I’m very busy having a lazy afternoon, you see.”

Pale autumn sunlight danced in dappled patterns on your ceiling. You’d successfully managed to change from your pajamas to your comfiest sweats after taking a luxuriously long bath. This was only topped by the fact that you were currently cozy in a bed with a book that had been on your TBR for months, that you’d been swearing you’d get around to, for real this time.

“Is that so?” You heard the click of his turn signal, apparently not given pause by your demurring.

“Yes, and I’ve had it scheduled all week. I simply can’t cancel on myself again,” you explained, waving a hand lazily. “…Unless.”

“Te escucho,” Hex prompted. You heard him tapping on his steering wheel with his index fingers, restless. “Come on, lay it on me.”

“I could only be convinced to cancel on me if you had some really, truly spectacular, showstopping way to sweep me off my feet, that I just had to drop everything for right now.” You fought to keep your tone as serious as possible. “So this better be a really fabulous proposal, whatever comes next. Lots of pressure. Definitely overthink it.”

Hex sucked his teeth audibly, pretending to think. “Damn, I was just gonna ask if you wanted to go grocery shopping with me.”

“I’ll get my jacket.” You slid off your bed, stretching again from where you’d be laying there in a marathon session with your novel. “How close are you?”

He laughed again, low in his throat with that little bit of rasp that felt like his fingers in your hair. A second later, you heard the short beep of a car horn in your driveway.

“Oh, shit. Be right there!” You grabbed your phone off your bed and hustled now for the door to your room.

“Relax, baby, no hurry,” Hector said, his voice echoing slightly in your hallway as you moved. “Maxi just asked me to pick some stuff up for this pre-need thing he’s throwing tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” You slid into your shoes where they were piled by your entry way, and then grabbed your bag for whatever wouldn’t fit in your pockets - charger, headphones, anything you’d want if you headed to his place after. “…What’s a pre-need again?” You topped all this off by pulling on one of Hex’s hoodies that you’d stolen from him ages ago, fitting you comfortably as it did every time. You’d have to sneak it back into his laundry soon, you knew — it was beginning to smell more like you than him.

“Ugh, don’t worry about it.” Hector sighed so loud you could almost hear his eyes rolling. “Basically lots of little old and anxious people start getting antsy and thinking about death in October, because skeletons, so he offers this afternoon thing where he teaches them how to set up all their funeral stuff in advance. Es hella aburrido, which is why he has to offer the free food.”

“Ah. That all makes sense.” You stepped outside and made a point to lock your door. Granted, Hex was the only person you could conceive of who had ever broken in - or who would ever want to break in - but still. Greymoon was a weird town.

One never knew what, exactly, was going to turn up as dusk claimed a larger and larger share of the hours.

You hung up the call as you pulled the passenger door open, leaning over to kiss him before you closed it. “So what all do you serve at a funeral tutorial-thing?”

“Oh, you know— hey,” Hector paused, eyeing your clothes critically before looking at you with theatrical levels of suspicion. “You told me you hadn’t seen that one.”

“What, this?” You feigned innocence, looking down at his hoodie. “Oh, I thought you meant your… other one.” The man had like ten, this wasn’t impossible. “Do you want it back?” You widened your eyes and pouted just the tiniest bit, certain he wouldn’t say no, but wanting to lay it on thick.

“Let me see.” He leaned over abruptly to take an exaggerated sniff of the hood and your hair, making you giggle and try to lean away. “Nah,” he concluded, sitting back up. “That needs another day.”

You were still giggling, adjusting the hood around your shoulders. “Another day for what?”

Hector took the car out of park, looking over his shoulder to pull out of your driveway even though he could do it in his sleep. “It needs time to get that good You smell in there. What is that, anyway? Perfume? Shampoo? Essence of angel?”

“Shut up, corn lord.” You swatted his shoulder, making him smile. “I only wear it as long as it smells like you, anyway.”

“Really? Aw. Sorry about that.” Hector grinned when you laughed again. One of his hands fell to its usual place on your knee as he pulled out onto the main road. “The hell do I smell like, anyway? Film developer and sadness?”

“No.” You intertwined your fingers together and squeezed his hand. “You don’t smell like sadness, Señor Artiste.”

Between Hex’s constant connection to the world after this one, his resulting insomnia, and his… already artistic temperament, you knew he occasionally had to fend off the depression that seemed to run in the Morvant line. Whereas Maxi diverted his restless version into constantly fixing and cleaning, and Rora’s manifested in squalls of anger and verbal venom, Hex’s ennui would lay him out flat for days — occasionally, weeks. You’d spent time before helping him excavate his bed from under piles of unfolded laundry that he’d just been sleeping around, and braiding his hair when he couldn’t find the energy to wash it. You knew he worried about letting you see him like this, and he’d confessed to you once during one of the worse episodes that he was scared it was too much to expect you to handle.

But just like the ghosts he channeled, it would eventually release him from its grip, and he would make a point to be just as sweet to you when it was your turn to deal with your inner demons.

“News to me.” Hector’s smile was a little more subdued now. “So, what, just film developer? Dusty house?”

“No, you smell like… hold on.” You held your free hand to your face, inhaling deeply from your sweater-paw. “You smell like… cinnamon. And coffee with chicory — like there’s any other kind down here.” You took another sniff, taking your time. “And something, like, incense-y? Is that from the viewing room?”

“Oh, nah.” Hex was quiet, and it stretched as you found yourself weirdly waiting for an answer.

He kept his eyes pointedly on the road and cleared his throat. “I keep some of the stuff my ma used to use in my closet. For emergencies.”

You blinked. Hector didn’t bring up that side of the family a lot. He didn’t really bring up either side, if he could avoid it, but definitely not hers. “Your mom burn incense a lot?”

“Yeah. Just for, like… ritual stuff. She was into that sort of thing.” He paused, and when the two of you were stopped at a red light, he lifted his steering hand to smell the hoodie he was currently wearing. “Weird. I’d totally forgotten it was up there.” He held it out and scrutinized it, as if to search for visible traces on the fabric. “Guess I’m just noseblind to it now.” He shrugged, but almost a little too hard. Like he was trying to shake off the idea.

You hesitated as the car pulled forward again, wanting to respect a sensitive topic, but still curious. “…What qualifies as an ‘incense emergency’?”

“Oh, the usual. One of the ghosts in the House gets too full of itself after a seance. Rora fucks up another taxidermy resurrection. Maxi gets a body for restoration that’s been in a car for a week.” He winked at you when you shuddered at the thought. “Any of the very sexy circumstances where you’d rather smell like something burning, or burning something beats something else in supernatural Rock-Paper-Scissors.”

“Yikes. I’ll keep that in mind.” There were a million more questions about it on the tip of your tongue, but you kept them in check as he parked in front of the smaller grocery store in town — the one that had the more unusual finds, depending on the season.

You were always slightly amazed at how he managed to pull the mustang in between some of the ridiculously large trucks that populated most Greymoon parking lots. Somehow, he always found a convenient spot for his little black car. Like magic, if magic could be used for something so mundane.

As the two of you got out, there was still the slightest shadow on his face as he closed his door. “So does that not, like, bother you?” When you gave him a confused look as you closed your own, he nodded to the hoodie. “I’ve had it in my closet forever; it must smell pretty strong.”

“Oh! No.” You circled around and wound your fingers through his again as he locked the car. “I like it, actually.” As the two of you headed inside, you found yourself swinging your hands together like a little kid; you were determined to lighten the mood back up to what it had been. “It’s layered with so much other stuff — your cafe con leche, your detergent, your developer. Your beard oil,” you added, which made him laugh sheepishly as the two of you passed through the automatic doors. “It just smells… I don’t know.” You racked your brain for the word. “Safe? Yeah.” You nodded. “You smell like home to me, you know? Now.” You wanted to keep talking, distract him from that earlier doubt with your current task. You scanned the aisles. “Do you have a list, or—“

You had to fight not to stumble when you were still walking and realized Hector wasn’t.

When you turned to check on him, he was looking at you with such soft, sincere eyes, you almost forgot the two of you had come to a stop next to a cluster of shopping carts.

Quietly, he lifted your intertwined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of yours with a sweetness that seemed all the more so in his silence.

You couldn’t look away, your own tongue once again tied.

It was one of those moments that he made you feel like you were the only two people left in the world.

“…’Shut up, corn lord,’” he echoed at last, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched you over your own knuckles.

“You shut up, whatever.” You felt your face grow warm in a way that had nothing to do with the indoor heating against the October chill, and stuck your tongue out at him. “You know what I’m saying.”

“I do. But I still like it when you say it.” He winked at you again, and this time there was a trace of the casual cockiness you’d seen when the two of you had first started flirting.

The difference was that now, you knew it was a front. Hex’s confidence was low key when it was genuine — a quiet, unflappable certainty.

He only played slick when how much he actually cared could overwhelm him entirely.

“I really mean it, Hex,” you protested quietly, squeezing his hand. “You have to know that by now.”

“And take that sweet shit for granted? Qué va.” But he still took his time letting go of you.

He sighed as he had over the phone, back to pretending this was a chore. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” He shoved a hand in a pocket of his own hoodie and pulled out his phone. With a couple of taps, he pulled up what looked like a text chain — you could see “pinche maxi” as the contact, followed by three skull emojis. “Got the list.”

You muffled a laugh, not wanting to be caught snooping. “Basket or cart?”

“The hell are you talking about?” Hector jokingly looked at you like you were crazy, before nodding pointedly at something ahead of you. “This is absolutely a cart situation, Bonita, come on. Eyes on the prize.”

Puzzled, you followed his gaze - and grinned, realizing exactly why he’d picked this store.

The Halloween candy display on the far side of the room was massive… but the stock floor was blessedly deserted.

You and Hex whizzed across the vacant produce section — taking turns balancing on the cart and pushing the other person — with only a brief pause to pick up a pre-cut veggie tray.

“There,” he said, before hastily checking off multiple items on the list.

You looked from the list to the tray, positive you’d seen ‘carrots,’ ‘celery,’ ‘cherry tomatoes’ as separate items. “Yeah, that has those.”

“Maxi’s going to complain and say he could’ve done it all himself,” Hector sighed, placing it carefully in the cart. “But he forgets how fucking picky he gets about setting up the extra chairs and the projector in the parlor, and stuff. That, plus having to cut everything just-so and arrange it on his little crudité board? He wouldn’t have time.”

You shrugged. “He can still put it all on the board if he wants to. It’s not like they’re gonna know.”

“That’s the spirit.” Hector snapped and pointed at you. “Primo needs to learn about artfully half-assing stuff. He takes all this pointless detail shit too seriously.” He paused to turn back and pick up a similarly packaged collection of cut fruit. “See? Boom. He didn’t even have those on the list; I’m just that thoughtful.”

“Clearly.” You couldn’t resist a smile. “Okay, so what else?”

“Cheese,” Hector said, as if this were obvious. “You always gotta feed grief with cheese.”

“But I thought this was for planning their own stuff?”

“It is, but have you seen how expensive shit is lately? They’re going to be grieving their wallets.” Hector pulled the cart behind him towards the dairy section with you balanced behind the handle. “You thought groceries were bad, you should see getting buried.”

“But isn’t your cousin on that whole...” You squinted as you tried to remember, gesturing vaguely. “Somthing-something against funeral poverty?”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean Louisiana isn’t still broke as shit. I swear to god, if it wasn’t for the damn House…” Hector sucked his teeth as he trailed off, staring down at two different cheese plates, then squinted at his phone. “Did he say…? Nah.” Seemingly satisfied, he picked up one of each and set them in the cart.

You raised an eyebrow. “Y’all expecting a big crowd?”

“Oh, hell no. We never get more than a few people at these things.” Hector looked at you, pointing to the plate with the slightly nicer variety. “That one’s for family.” He drew a loop in the air with his finger to rope you into the collective - something that still brought a bubbly warmth to your chest, even after you’d been dating this long. “We’re having that after, let the plebians have the cheap cheese.”

You laughed. “So glad I get to be included in the fancy cheese. I’m honored.”

“Only the fanciest of cheeses for you, mi amor.” Hex leaned up, giving you an obnoxiously loud kiss on the cheek. “Come on, we still need the important stuff.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s—” You were interrupted by your own delighted squeak as Hector rocketed with you and the cart towards the Halloween candy.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d giggled this much while just doing errands with someone. It had to mean something that you could leave your ideal day alone to go out and do something you normally dreaded, but still have more fun than your books could have ever promised.

Hector only just pulled you to a stop before any displays suffered an unfortunate collision, and you hopped off the back of the cart, the two of you sizing up the waiting shelves.

“Maxi said I could get Halloween stuff for this, but he said it had to be ‘tasteful’.” Hector gave the word some lazy finger quotes and rolled his eyes again. “Like I didn’t just see him buy one of those twelve foot skeletons. ‘It’s for the garden out back, Hex, it’s not the same’,” he quoted some little tiff they’d clearly had, doing a surprisingly good impression of his cousin’s accent around his own.

“So we’re definitely serving bleeding eye gumballs and gummy brains then?” you joked.

“I wonder if they still sell those plastic molds of hands.” Hector stroked his beard, pretending to ponder. “We could make ice hands with red food dye to put in the lemonade.”

“Crazy tasteful.” You nodded in agreement. “Or feet molds? Do they make those?”

“Ew, don’t be weird.” Hector gave you a look of fake disgust, making you both laugh before you split apart to browse in earnest.

“What about, like, mini chocolate bars? They’ve got like a million kinds.” You scanned the different shelves for the usual variety packs, finding a plethora of different groupings in brightly colored bags.

“You’d think, but no. Chocolate can melt and smear if people forget about it. And someone always forgets about it,” he added from the other side of the aisle, with a touch of that special exhaustion that comes from dealing with strangers. “And nothing that could’ve been remotely near peanut butter or nuts, Maxi said he needs a new epi-pen for the first aid kit.”

“Sure, fair. Can’t have anyone dying at the meeting about how to plan for dying. So that rules out…” You rotated slowly in place, taking stock of your options. “A lot.”

“Hey, that just makes my job easier.” Hector popped around an end cap, holding up two different versions of those holiday-themed marshmallows that had started solely as bunnies. “Skulls or ghosts?”

“For the thing or for us?”

“The thing.”

“Dude,” you laughed. “Like those little old and-slash-or anxious people won’t flip if we give them ghosts or skulls at a funeral planning seminar? You think they have enough whimsy for that?”

“Come on, it’s like, the whole reason we’re there. They gotta lighten up, man.” Hex rolled his eyes again. “Fine, I’ll just put them in the cart for after. Maxi can’t get mad at me if I bring him some, he loves this kinda shit.”

Your eyes fell on shelf of some old-fashioned candies. “Oh my god, I’m an idiot, this is so obvious.”

“How obvious?” Hector asked from the other side of the shelf.

You grabbed a bag of candy corn, inspecting the ingredients. “Nut-free factory! That’s a bonus!”

“Man, those poor factory workers.”

“Ugh, low hanging fruit.” You rolled your eyes, picking up another bag. “Come here.”

“Make me,” Hector teased, suddenly directly behind you.

“Jesus!” You whirled on the spot, startled at having not heard him sneak that close. “Behave.” You whacked his shoulder lightly with one of the bags you were holding.

“Jesus never behaved, that was like his whole deal.” Hector just plucked the bag from your hand, inspecting it before raising an eyebrow. “Candy corn?”

“What little old person doesn’t like candy corn?” You made an incredulous gesture with your free hand. “And like, these candy pumpkins.” You picked up a bag of the traditional pumpkins with the similar texture. “It’s classic for a reason.”

“Yeah, cultural indoctrination.” Hector smiled. “I can’t believe people actually eat this stuff willingly.”

“Oh, come on, it’s nostalgic as hell,” you said, placing the bags in his waiting hands. “It’s like being a little kid in your costume again.”

“Doesn’t mean it actually tastes good.” He nonetheless held still, tilting his head to look at the bag’s contents. “But sure, he can put them out in little decorative bowls or some shit, he loves those.”

You turned to set a last bag in his hands. “You honestly mean to tell me you don’t like candy corn?”

“I mean, I’ll eat it,” Hector said, sounding resigned. “But for the same reason as when I was small: because it’s there, and because it’s what we have, but not because I actually think it’s any good. Not that one,” he said, nodding to the last one you were holding. “We have enough.”

You frowned at the couple of bags in his hands. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, so at least there won’t be any leftovers.” You shrugged, then beckoned for him to follow you onto the next aisle.

“Are you kidding? The old people aren’t gonna make a dent in this, candy corn multiples the minute someone turns their back on it.” Hector followed you. “Don’t you know Halloween math?” He continued as you burst into laughter. “The same thing would always happen: Tia Mathilde would buy some candy corn, or those tiny pumpkins, and then the bowl in the kitchen would just keep refilling itself all season. It’d never get any emptier, even when I was sure the twins ate so much they were gonna puke.”

“Maybe she just kept buying more bags?” You looked over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. “Like how it works in the real world?”

“Nope, I’d check the trash whenever the bowl was full again!” Hector shook his head. “You watch, we’ll put this out, and then we’ll still be eating it until…”

You paused, turning once again to find Hector stopped behind you. “Babe?”

Hector didn’t answer, squinting at something on a shelf you’d passed.

“Something jumpscare you?” You walked back to peek over his shoulder.

“Yeah, those.” Hector nodded to a plastic box holding three small decorated sugar skulls.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know they started selling those here.” You paused, surveying the surrounding products. “I didn’t realize they sold imported anything here, to be honest.”

“Those aren’t imported,” Hector said, nodding at the label. Sure enough, it was one of the generic store holiday brands. “They’ve just realized they can sell them and actually make some money. Check the piping around the eyes,” he gestured loosely with the corner of one of the bags. “There are people who work for months to get the decorative ones right, the legit shit. Even the ones you give kids to eat, they take their time with. That looks like someone put the icing on with their eyes closed.”

“Oh.” You leaned forward, inspecting for yourself. The piped icing to decorate the facial features looked very haphazardly applied, some of it smeared against the plastic during transport. “I see what you mean, yeah.” You glanced back at him. “It’s like, the opposite of artful half-assing. Half-ass art-ing.”

“I don’t think that’s even half an ass’s worth,” Hector said, smiling again when he made you laugh. It faded though as he looked back the store brand calaveras. “And they’re charging how much, for that quality? En esta economía? Hell,” he shook his head. “If that’s what people will pay around here for shitty ones, I should throw a bunch together and sell them at the House. Maybe be able to afford that new lens I want.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to make those,” you said, looking between him and the sad little skulls. “I mean, I should’ve guessed, what don’t you know how to make—“

“I don’t,” Hector said, glancing at you. You giggled, and he grinned. “I’m serious. I mean, in theory, sure: it’s like — what’re those fluffy stiff fuckers — meringues, right? Eggs and sugar? Mold it and wait? But my mom always went down early and bought ‘em from this artist lady she liked. For the ofrenda, and an edible one for me so I’d stop trying to lick the decorative ones when her back was turned.”

You paused in your laughter at that image, hesitant. This was the second time his mom had unexpectedly popped up this visit, and the first time hadn’t been… happy, per se. “Did you guys do that every year?”

“When we lived here? Not always,” he shrugged. “Sometimes she couldn’t get down and back in time, so we’d just leave some extra treats out and hope people coming back to visit would understand. Plus, when Tia Mathilde was in a bad mood, she’d get snippy about what room Ma could set stuff up in. Eventually, she just kept a small ofrenda in her room so she didn’t have to deal with Auntie griping about the marigold petals on the carpet.” He sucked the inside of his cheek for a minute, his eyes distant. “…She always remembered when we lived with her folks, though.” He looked away for a moment, pretending to inspect his sneakers. “But by then I usually spent the day elsewhere. It was kinda crowded. Anyway. Come on, beautiful,” he said, looking back up at you abruptly. “We got veggies to put in the fridge, get my cousin off my back.”

“Yeah, definitely.” You were sure that wasn’t what was actually what had him preoccupied, but you didn’t press. You followed him back to the cart, the two of you heading for check out. Though he was friendly as ever with the giggly (clearly somewhat smitten) cashier, you noticed Hex was subdued again, not even making his usual joke of buying out all the day-old donuts with Maxi’s credit card.

By the time the two of you walked out with your bags, you were scrambling slightly, trying to figure out how to bring him back to the present so he wouldn’t linger too long in his reverie.

As the two of you loaded the groceries into the trunk of the mustang, you spotted it: a little tent set up on the far side of the shopping center, with a handmade sign and two elderly people bundled up in lawn chairs. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Hex looked up from closing the trunk when you tugged his sleeve, eyes refocusing like he was emerging from a daze.

You thumbed towards the cider stand. “You want some?” You smiled, hoping you weren’t being obvious. “My treat?”

“Absolutely not.” Hector shoved his hand in his pocket, quickly producing his cousin’s card once again. “We’re still on a very official mortuary errand, let it be Maxi’s treat.”

“Then shouldn’t we bring him some?” Your smile felt more genuine as Hex took your hand, threading your fingers back together as you crossed the cracked little parking lot. “Since he’s being so kind?”

“Eh, it’s a had-to-be there thing, he knows how it goes.” Hector shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing personal, this is purely business.”

“Ahuh.” You muffled a small laugh. “And Rora? None for her?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ emphatically. “La Reina made it perfectly clear she didn’t wanna come along. She didn’t help with grocery shopping, so she doesn’t get to reap the rewards of honest work.”

“Damn, you guys are cold-blooded,” you teased, hip-checking him lightly.

“Hey, I warned them fair and square, I didn’t wanna mix business and family.” He spread his free hand in an exaggeratedly helpless gesture. “This is what happens. It’s cut-throat.”

You were still laughing a little when the two of you reached the tent, and you couldn’t miss the rosy-cheeked elderly couple sneaking each other a knowing smile when they greeted you and Hex. A yellow lab sat up from where it had been laying sweetly at their feet, shaking itself and mirroring its people with a panting, tongue-hanging smile of its own.

You watched silently as the cider folks poured you both a full styrofoam cup and chatted with Hex, wondering if they maybe saw themselves in you two. If they had been like you once, feeling like there were only endless unknowns ahead of them, but had finally settled into a gentle present together - from the gentleman’s brief conversation with Hector, one filled with their apple orchard and their dogs, selling homemade cider on crisp afternoons.

As the two of you took your cider (with an extra cinnamon stick for Hex, since he asked the elderly woman with a polite yet roguish smile), you both made sure the lab behind its ears, Hector reminding her in multiple languages that she was a good dog before the two of you took your leave.

That wouldn’t be such a bad forever, you thought to yourself as the older folks waved goodbye. Just the two of you doing something little to make some extra cash, sitting together in the sunlight and chatting about everything and nothing while you waited for people to swing by. Riding home - a shared home, a house for both of you - in his old car, the tired quiet comfortable like a well-loved quilt.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the happy little noise Hector made as you both leaned against the trunk of his car, and you turned to see him enjoying a long sip with both cinnamon sticks still in the cup.

“Good?” you asked, smirking.

“Mmhm.” He pulled the rest away as if to inspect it, licking his lips. “Their spice blend is really killer. Fuck a PSL.”

“That’s why Greymoon never gets a Starbucks, they just know they couldn’t compete.” You took a sip of your own, and unwittingly made a similar noise. The taste that flooded your mouth was immaculately golden, the kind of distilled late afternoon sunshine from the romanticized autumns of years past. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding.”

“Right?” Hector nodded. “I didn’t think we had any witches around lately, but now I don’t know. Little lady over there might just be hiding a pointy hat at home.”

“Now watch, we’re both going to be magically enthralled to some ancient Apple God when we least expect it.” You took another long sip nonetheless.

“Hey, beats my current thing.” Hector shrugged, downing more of his.

Oh. Right. That.

The small hitch in your soft little idea of forever.

You took another sip, your mind torn in both directions: his mom, which was what you’d been originally trying to distract him from, and now the issue of his necromantic Chain, which you were wondering if you needed distracting from.

“You having flashbacks on me?”

You blinked, looking up to find Hector watching your face. His head was tilted, his small smile looking crooked as he searched your eyes. “Where’d you go, preciosa? You got all thousand-yard stare for a sec.”

“I’m good.” You smiled, trying to prove it. “Just… Fall.” You gestured to the gorgeous day, the drinks in your hands.

“…Ahuh.” Hector said, clearly skeptical. He took one of the cinnamon sticks out of his drink, sticking the end that had been in the cider in his mouth. “Try me anyway?”

You hesitated, not wanting to bog down the moment. “…Why do I get the feeling you did the cinnamon challenge when it was a thing?” you asked instead.

“Nuh-uh,” Hector lied, the way he turned from you slightly to chew on the stick giving him away.

You laughed, immediately picturing the worst. “It didn’t go well, huh?”

“No, because I definitely didn’t do it in a room full of people at a party. What’re you, a cop?” He pointed the stick at you accusingly as you laughed even harder, nearly snorting cider as you went to take another sip. “You got your little FBI man in your phone to go through mine for proof or something? That’s low, that sneaky bastard, he’s supposed to be on my payroll.”

“I love you,” you said through the giggles you were trying to smother.

“Obviously.” Hector threw his hair dramatically over his shoulder, but he couldn’t quite hold the bravado as he looked at you, his gaze softening back into that look from before. “…I love you,” he repeated quietly, his version somehow warmer than the cider in your hand.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he slid an arm around your waist as he kissed the top of your skull. You stayed there, enjoying the smell of the fresh cinnamon and the hoodie he was wearing.

“…Earlier,” you spoke just as quietly, afraid to burst this little golden bubble. “When we were inside, you said something about ‘if it weren’t for the damn House.’” You angled your head so you could see his face. “What’d you mean?”

“Oh.” Hector rolled his eyes somewhat, his hand moving your waist to fiddle with a drawstring on your borrowed hoodie. “I just meant we’d be outta here already.”

You blinked, forcing yourself to hold off on the automatic hurt that wanted to leap to the forefront. “‘We?’ Like you and the twins?”

“Eh, if they wanted to, sure,” he said, shrugging. “But we’d find each other again if we needed to, they know that. I meant you and me.” He looked down at you. “I’d take you and we’d move somewhere beautiful, like, tomorrow. Get the fuck outta here, go somewhere with something going on. A real art scene, or at least someplace with actual nightlife, maldita. Or maybe we’d be like those weirdos that live in a van,” he went on. “Move around a bunch of places for a while. Like, we’d live at the beach, until you got tired of the beach, and then we’d try the mountains or something, y’know?”

“Oh, so you’d take me, huh?” Your grin threatened to split your face, it was so hard and so real.

“Obviously,” he said, his bravado back with a wink that made you laugh again. “I’d have to, before you had a chance to think it through.”

“Hey, I might be more game than you think.” You reached up, twirling a lock of his hair around the end of your finger. “What about where you’d want to live, though?”

“That’s the easy part.” He hip-checked you gently, which just pushed you more against his arm as he squeezed you in a hug. “Long as you’re there, I’m good.”

You looked at him for a long moment, pretty sure the warmth in your chest now had nothing to do with the cider or your hoodies in the sunshine. “You wanna head back?” Your hand dropped to tug lightly on his sweatshirt. “So we can put the groceries away before we get completely distracted making out, and so we don’t have an audience?” You glanced out of the corner of your eye at the tent in the distance.

“Yeah, sure babe. One sec.” Hex’s arm supported your back as he dipped you backwards, holding you steady as he made a show of kissing you in front of the grocery store.

It took you two until the lab started barking across the lot to remember you needed to actually get in and start the car.

(perhaps I was the real corn lord all along. :)

if you read this far, I hope you treat yourself to something delicious today 🥰)

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crazykitsch · 3 months

Note

Hi! I was the one who reauested a Hector fic and it was basically where he’s really intimidating and aggressive on the pitch but as soon as he comes off the pitch and sees his girlfriend he’s the most softest person ever and his teammates tease him for it

Hector Fort: wave

pairing: hector fort x reader

warnings: none

❝W-A-V-E, I see you’re falling deep for me. Baby yes i’m all you need. Ride the W-A-V-E.❞

Its the 95th minute of the match against Deportivo Alaves. Earlier this match Hector assisted Vitor Roque and now they stand 3-1.

However, I did not like this match at all. Hector played SO agressive, i’m surprised he’s not injured yet. Sometimes I do find it funny though, he acts so agressive and intimidating on the pitch but he’s so sweet and cute in real life.

A minute later the match is over and Barça won! The players go to the changing rooms and 15 minutes after families etc are allowed in. Hector walks up to me and hugs me. ‘you did so well amor.’ I say and I notice him smiling. ‘Thank you y/n, did my best for you.’ he says and I can’t help but blush.

He looks at me with soft eyes and he opens his mouth to say something, but he got interrupted by Lamine and Pedri whistling at us. We turn around and I see Hector rolling his eyes.

‘Y/n amor I love you so so much!’ Lamine jokingly imitated. Pedri laughs and says ‘Hector babe let’s get married!’ Hector rolls his eyes at this and grabs my hand to walk away and suddenly Fermin says ‘Don’t give her babies, Hector.’

Now I laugh and we walk away. ‘Not funny y/n.’ he says and I say ‘Very funny Hector.’

A/n: Hiiii,, i’m so sorry this took so long and is so short. I still feel sick but I do need to upload more often:(.

#fc barcelona #barca #hector fort #la masia #hector fort x reader

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riboism · 1 year

Text

man who can’t be moved

》 pairing: j.yh x f!reader

》 genre: angst, smut, some fluff

》 content: college student!reader, college student! yunho, no strings attached, hookups, reader is kind of a player, some mentions of reader’s ex (it didn’t end well), lots of denial, lots of emotions, big dick yunho, creampie, clit play, angry sex, am i missing anything?

》 wc: 6.4k

》 a/n: thank you to the person who requested this! this got me out of my writers block. I hope you like it :)

♫ playlist: flook- hector gachan, evergreen- omar apollo, frío- omar apollo, broken love- gemini, man who can’t be moved- the script

Yunho stood outside your apartment door, holding onto a box that contained your possessions. He could smell the rosy scent of the shampoo that you left in his shower. He had spent all morning collecting your belongings into this box, proud that he finally made an effort to be rid of you once and for all. But that rosy smell, that same scent that he’d wake up to after you spent the night was making him second guess himself. No, stop it, he said to himself. Just stick to the plan Yunho.

The plan was simple. Yunho would go to your apartment after work and knock on your door, fully aware that you probably weren’t home. You were most likely at San’s or Yeosang’s place right now, getting shit-faced drunk and having sweaty sex on their beat-up couches, head too fuzzy in bliss to even spare a single thought about him. But he thought he would knock anyway, just as a courtesy. He’d wait for ten seconds, and when you don’t answer, he’d shrug in a “welp, I tried” kind of way before placing the box on your doorstep. He’ll take a deep breath while looking at your door that he knew all too well one last time and then head towards the stairwell exit, with his head held high, showing no intention of turning back.

Yunho was partly to blame for the way things ended, and he knew that. You made yourself very clear in the beginning. “Listen Yunho, you’re really sweet,” You said after he confessed to you all those months ago at the campus library where you two first met, “But I’m not looking for anything serious. I don’t really do relationships. You get what I mean?”

He knew exactly what you meant. ‘Dating’ was an ancient term. Nobody ‘dated’ anymore. What replaced this archaic social practice were one-night stands, situation-ships, friends with benefits, hookups, etc. No one wanted a ‘serious’ relationship anymore because that meant having to give your mind, body, and soul to someone, and why bother with all that when you can just give them one of the three?

Even though most of his peers shared the same sentiment as you when it came to relationships, Yunho didn’t agree with it at all. Maybe he was old-fashioned for wanting something more than a quick fuck. Looking back on it now, he regretted not taking the hint. It was evident that you wanted a guy you could fool around with when you were bored, someone who’s emotionally unavailable so you don’t have to worry about attachments and sudden ‘L’ bombs when you’re just trying to get your fix. But Yunho, who was so pathetically infatuated with you at the time, so much so that it blocked away all rational thinking, decided that he’ll be whatever kind of guy you wanted him to be if it meant that he could be with you. The foolish romantic was now part of a no strings attached relationship.

He felt incredibly stupid for getting involved with you. What did he expect? That after all the mindless sex, you’d fall as hard for him as he did for you, and finally agree to be his girlfriend? He had so much to learn. No strings attached meant no strings attached. That meant less conversation and more action. Less getting to know each other and more getting to know about what was in between your legs. It meant no longing stares, although he was guilty of watching you sleep in his arms from time to time. It also meant being okay with the fact that he was not the only guy you were seeing. And that’s when the fights would ensue.

“Who was that guy?” Yunho demanded, making sure to use his quiet-yelling voice out of respect for the other patrons of the library. He was referring to the pale, blonde-haired guy from the dining hall earlier. He didn’t like how close he was standing next to you. He especially didn’t like it when he leaned in to whisper in your ear, or how you giggled when he placed his hands over your waist and how you rubbed your hands over his flexed muscles. You chewed on your gum, tracing your fingers over the etched golden text on the book spines on the historical fiction shelf. You almost didn’t hear him at first, too preoccupied with finding your next bedtime read.

“Hmm? Oh, that guy? Just someone I’ve been seeing. Why, you jealous?”

It was a joke. There was no such thing as ‘jealousy’ in a no strings attached relationship. You smiled up at him, expecting to see him roll his eyes from your playful jab, but instead, he looked away from you. Even with his side profile facing you, you could read the tinge of irritation on his face. You frowned.

“Oh come on Pookie,” You pouted, squeezing his cheeks and turning his head to face you. You chuckled after seeing his lips puckered up like a fish. “Don’t be like that. Come on, I can’t be the only girl you’re seeing, right?”

He placed his hand on your wrist and pulled you off him. “Whatever.” He moped. He watched as your eyes widened in sudden realization.

“No…” You gasped dramatically, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. “I’m the only one you’ve been seeing?”

He stayed quiet, not understanding why you worded it that way. Was it really a bad thing that you were the only girl on his mind?

“Oh god, you’re so cute!” You tittered. “I thought with a dick like yours, you’d be very popular. It’s a shame you’re not sharing it. I know a lot of girls who would love to take you out for a spin.”

“Keep your voice down.” Yunho hissed, looking around to see if anyone heard your distasteful choice of words. Luckily, no one was around at your corner of the library. “And stop talking like that. I don’t like it when you talk about me like that.”

“It was a compliment!” You defended yourself. Yunho refused to meet your eyes, busying himself with pulling out random books and reading the blurbs on the backside, although he was too upset to even acknowledge what he was reading. You sighed again, feeling a little bad for making him so upset. You’d often forget that Yunho was more sensitive than your other partners and that he needed extra kindness and assurance. You wrapped your arms around his big body and rested your cheek against his back.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you so much.” He stayed quiet, putting back the book and pulling out another. “Please don’t be mad.” You begged.

“I’m not mad,” He murmured. “I just thought…I don’t know, I thought I was the only guy you were seeing.”

“Does it bother you that you’re not?” You questioned, letting go of him. Yunho looked back at you, his chest tightening at your furrowed brows. He worried that he said the wrong thing again. He was new to the no strings attached community, and would often let his possessiveness and sensitivity peek through.

“No,” He lied. “I just…Forget it.”

You mulled over his response, trying hard to understand why he was so upset, to begin with. Your silence made Yunho nervous. Everything about you made him nervous.

Then, your eyes sparked when you finally understood. “Ohh…I get it.” You nodded.

His shoulders tensed up. “You do?”

“Yes, and you have nothing to worry about. Out of everyone, you’re my favorite.” You stood on your tippy toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, satisfied that you solved the puzzle and were able to calm his nerves.

Yunho gave you a shy smile. He didn’t want to smile, but he figured it was best to do so, so that you could believe that he was lashing out over the fear of being replaced, and not because he didn’t wish to share you with other guys.

You continued on. “You worried me for a second. I thought you were one of those guys that don’t like it when a girl has a mind of her own.”

“No,” he chuckled nervously, “No, I don’t mind that at all.”

“Good,” you chirped, going back to your search. “You wouldn’t believe some of the guys I’ve been with. They get so clingy, and it gets annoying after a while. I’m glad you’re not like that. Other guys…they don’t get it. We’re young. It’s better we have fun while we can, or else we’ll live to regret it when we’re old and wrinkly and can’t get any.”

Yunho hummed in agreement, although he didn’t agree with you at all. He thought about his grandparents. They lived in a small apartment just outside of the city. His parents would complain about how small their living space was, and offered to help them move into a more spacious apartment, but his grandparents always refused. “If we move into a bigger apartment, we won’t be able to see each other. This size is perfect,” His grandmother would say, “I turn around and he’s right behind me. It’s how it should be. Anything farther, and we’d miss each other too much.”

It always warmed his heart just how inseparable those two were, even in their old age. He wanted that for himself one day. How wonderful would it be to grow old with the person you love most?

Later that night, while you were showering, he remained in your bed, thinking about what you said earlier. Was he really your favorite? Did you really like him more than the other guys you were seeing? Or was his dick just bigger than theirs? He tried not to think about that too much and focused on going to sleep.

And when it wasn’t him being upset with you, it was you getting annoyed with him.

“Do you really have to go?” Yunho whined. He was sitting up on his bed, watching you as you shuffled around his room, bending down to pick up the discarded pieces of clothing.

“I already told San I’d meet up with him later.” You huffed as you shimmied into your jeans. Yunho didn’t like how quickly you were getting dressed. It was as if you were eager to get away from him.

“San?” He scoffed. “You mean that bartender that kept eye fucking you right in front of me?”

Yunho remembered San. A lot of the girls from your University frequented that bar on the corner of Main Street, hoping to get served by the handsome devil in all black. He’s seen a lot of the girls write their phone numbers on the twenty-dollar bills they tipped him with. It was ridiculous. Everything about him was ridiculous, from the cheap hair gel he used to slick back his hair, to his sleazy smile, along with his overly tight t-shirts and shiny black leather pants. But he didn’t mind him too much, not until that night when you two went in for a drink, and the so-called ‘handsome devil in all black’ ruthlessly flirted with you when he was clearly sitting right next to you with his hand on your thigh to mark that you were taken. Yunho didn’t know what angered him more. San’s shit-eating grin or the fact that you let him flirt with you in the first place.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, that guy.” You really didn’t like it when he got emotional, and Yunho could sense your discomfort. He immediately regretted what he said and grabbed you by your arm before you could leave, pleading to you with his eyes.

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to upset you. But can’t you just stay a little longer? It’s already so late. I thought you could spend the night. We could rent a movie?” He offered.

You picked up your jacket and purse, not even bothering to put them on before you left. “Look, I’ll call you okay?” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips and then went out the door before he could protest again. Yunho slumped back against the headboard, the sound of the door slamming behind you echoing in his head. How do you keep letting this happen, Yunho? She comes and goes, that’s what she does. She’s not here to hold hands and watch a fucking movie. She wants to fuck and then move on to the next guy. Seriously, do you have any respect for yourself?

And that’s how the cycle would begin. Yunho would get tired of you and your bullshit, tired of being discarded right after helping you cum, tired of driving himself mad over who you were seeing and what you were doing with him, just tired of being an option. It wasn’t him. He wanted you and your full devotion, and when he finally realized that there was no way you would give that to him, he’d call it off.

The first few weeks of being free from you would go well. He’d be at peace like he got rid of a bad cold and could finally breathe again. But that small period of relief wouldn’t last very long. Truth was, Yunho wasn’t good at being alone. And soon, he’d miss your touch, your smell, and hearing your laugh. He’d miss the moments he spent with you in the library, like when you two would play footsies under the table during your late-night midterm study sessions, or the times you two would fight for the aux cord in his car, eager to show each other new songs you were obsessing over at the moment. He’d find himself listening to the songs you showed him, but they didn’t sound the same anymore.

He’d miss hearing you talk about your day or your thoughts about rent control and the current economic crisis. And then he’d miss the nights he spent with you, how your body reacted to his fingertips, the way you’d press your eyes shut when he entered you, and the pretty sounds you let out when you were close to your peak. And then he’d think about that one night you showed up at his apartment, unannounced. You were upset, it was telling from your reddened lips and tear-stained cheeks. You wouldn’t say why you were upset, and after asking a couple of times, Yunho decided to just let leave you be. He then invited you in and let you lead the way to his bed. It started the way any other night started, with you two hungrily ripping each other’s clothing off, but before he could spread your legs, you suddenly pressed your hand to his chest and asked him to stop. “No, not like this…Can we-” You looked away from his piercing gaze, a rush of frustration and confusion coursing through your stomach until you finally spit the words out. “Can we just lay here?”

Yunho looked down at you with sincerity in his eyes, and he wanted to ask you one more time what was wrong. But seeing you so hurt, so tired, so in need of someone to just hold you while you cried, he decided to hold his tongue. He pulled you into his arms without question, letting you wet his chest with your spilled tears. And when he felt goosebumps prickle up on your skin, he covered both your naked bodies with a blanket and held you tighter. You finally fell asleep, your worries being absorbed by Yunho and his warm embrace, and Yunho couldn’t help but feel a little enraptured watching you sleep so peacefully in his arms. He’s had you in every way, in every position, seen every crevice of your beautiful body, but this. This is what he wanted most in the world. This is how he wanted you. And he hoped that by the next morning, that’s how you’d want him too. But when morning came, Yunho woke up alone, with nothing but the faint smell of roses on his pillowcase. When he asked you about it later that day on campus, you suddenly went cold and demanded he never bring it up again.

He thought about that night, your body, those Omar Apollo songs you showed him, the library study sessions, just every single moment that he’s ever spent with you, driving himself mad to the point where the desire for you would be overwhelming and too strong to ignore and he’d ultimately give in and crawl back into bed with you, allowing you to use him as you wanted, feeling again like a dog on your leash. It would feel good for a bit, until those same old feelings resurfaced and he’d call it off once again, repeating the never-ending cycle of your no strings attached relationship.

But this time, things were going to be different. He wasn’t going to continue this cycle. You weren’t good for him, and it was time he let go and move on. That’s why he packed all your stuff and came to drop them off. It was official. There was no going back from this. All he had to do now was stick to the plan.

Yunho shifted the box to his side and used his free hand to knock on the door. He took a deep breath and counted in his head.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five-

The door swung open, interrupting his counting. You stood at the door frame in nothing but your bathrobe, your wet hair dripping puddles around your feet. Yunho was at a loss for words. This wasn’t part of the plan. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t prepare for this. He didn’t, sorry, couldn’t see you, because it would just make things harder. It was like flaunting a cigarette in front of someone who just quit smoking. He wasn’t strong enough to resist you. He was addicted to you and he worried that he would relapse again.

“Oh, Yunho.” You acknowledged, crossing your arms over your chest. He held onto the box tighter, feeling himself twitch from the sound of you calling his name. You peered into the box, recognizing the articles of clothing and personal hygiene products. “Is that my stuff?”

Yunho struggled at first, forgetting for a moment how to speak coherently. “Uh- yes, it is. I came to drop them off. Here.” He blubbered, pushing the box towards you. You took it from his hands, not expecting it to be so heavy. You didn’t realize you left so many things at his place.

“Oh. Thanks.”

A silence weighed in between you, both of you looking at each other awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. Right, Yunho thought to himself, there’s nothing left to say. You did your part, now walk right out.

“Well, I should head back. Goodnight, Y/N.”

Yunho turned on his heel and made his way out of the long corridor. Part of him didn’t want to reach the end of the hall, but he pushed himself anyway, reminding himself over and over to not look back. As painful as it was, it needed to happen. It was for the best.

“Wait,” You called after him.

And just like that, Yunho immediately stopped in his tracks, not hesitating this time to turn around. It almost brought him some relief, like he had been holding his breath for too long, and now you finally gave him permission to exhale. “Yes?” He beamed.

You stepped out from the door frame and into the hall so you were right across from where Yunho stood. “Do you want to come in?”

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded, almost believing that he must have heard you wrong.

“I mean, your stuff,” You clarified, “I still have some of your stuff in my apartment if you wanted to come in and grab them.” It was kind of pathetic, the way you tripped over your words, but you couldn’t bare saying goodbye just yet. No, you’re not catching feelings, you assured yourself. You just wanted him around you for a little bit longer. Maybe it was selfish of you to keep pulling on his leash like this, but for the moment, you didn’t care.

“Oh, right. That would be great, actually.”

Yunho knew he would hate himself for letting this happen. All that progress getting chucked out the window on account of his lack of self-control. But how could you blame him? With the way your damp strands curled around your flushed cheeks, the smell of your rosy shampoo that had been seared into his nostrils by now, and the fact that all he had to do was undue your robe to see your beautiful glistening body that was so ready for him to take. It was all so easy. You handed him the apple and all he had to do was take a bite.

“Fuck, Yunho!” You cried out, grasping his bare back for dear life as he frantically thrust into you. He was angry, angry at himself that he let this happen again, and angry at you for making him so weak. He only put just the tip in, but you could’ve sworn you were seeing stars from the stretch alone.

“Unbelievable,” He grunted. “Even after the hundred times we fucked, your little pussy still can’t take my cock?”

You’d never seen this side of Yunho. Usually, he was nice and gentle with you, always studying the arch of your brows to see if he was taking things too far or not. It was sweet at first, but sometimes you’d wish he’d just take you and fuck you like an animal. It seemed your wish was finally granted. “P-Please! All of it, I want all of it Yunho, please!” Was all you could muster out.

He pulled out of you in an instant, and before you could whine, he forcibly flipped you over and pulled you back by your hips until your ass smacked into his pelvis. Yunho kept you down with his hand pressed against the space between your shoulder blades as he lined himself up with your aching center.

Yunho rubbed himself against your slick folds, occasionally slapping his tip over your swollen clit, making your hips jolt with anticipation. “You want it all? ‘Guess those other guys don’t fill you up as much as you want, huh? Poor thing.” He continued dragging his cock over your folds, your soft whimpers only feeding into his ego.

Just when he thought you had enough, he guided his cock into your hole, the stretch forcing you to tear up once again. You grasped at your bed sheets and pressed your eyes shut, preparing yourself for the rest of him as your lips coated in salty tears.

He pushed the rest of him into you with a struggle, his hips stagnant as he waited for you to adjust to his size. “Fuck!” You gasped, your voice cracking as he started up again. Each thrust was deep, calculated, and they didn’t fail to rip a moan out of you.

His fingers, now coated with your essence, tweaked and twisted at your clit. It was all too much for you, really, the sheer length of him plowing into your walls, the brutal pace he set on account of his anger, along with the way he toyed at your clit. Yunho could sense you were close, having known your body long enough to know when you were about to be sent over the edge. He stopped teasing your bud and instead slipped his fingers past your lips and you readily let him in, swirling your tongue around his digits to clean yourself off him. He grinned to himself, pleased to see that you knew exactly what to do without any instruction.

Suddenly, he pulled his fingers out from you and cupped your jaw with his large hand, pulling you back until your head was against his chest, keeping your face there so you were forced to look up at him. He peered down at you with his full attention, completely engrossed by just how pretty and sinful you looked in this position. “Stay like that,” He breathed “‘wanna see you when you cum all over my cock.”

He came first, your orgasm approaching soon after. You babbled incoherently as his cum flooded your walls, forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. Yunho was completely enamored with you like this, your parted and swollen lips and your half-lidded eyelids almost making him shoot a second load into you. He disconnected from you and you fell forward onto the bed, catching your breath as you came down from your high. You felt dizzy and sweaty, and your head was so cloudy that you were unable to form a thought that wasn’t already so scrambled. As you relaxed, you felt Yunho’s breath over your hip right before he planted soft kisses on your lower back all the way up to your shoulder. His kisses were sweet and careful, almost like he was making up for being so rough with you. Soon enough, he retired from your shoulder and moved on to the side of your face, brushing his pillowy lips on your temple, to your wet eyes, to your cheek, until you craned your neck back and allowed him to meet your lips.

It was almost foreign to you, to have someone care this deeply for you even after the act. None of your other partners behaved this way, and you were lucky if they even remembered to toss you a towel. But Yunho, he was different. He treated you as something more, and maybe it made you feel bad that you didn’t do the same for him. It was overwhelming, his soft kisses, his careful touches, the way he’d beg you to stay over, and the way he almost looked hurt when you say you can’t. Poor Yunho. He was in love with you, and you knew it. You hated yourself for toying with a man with good intentions. But what was the alternative? You couldn’t be his, and he couldn’t be yours. You made a promise to yourself years ago that you’d never be foolish enough to fall in love ever again. This had to stop, you should’ve stopped it months ago, but you were selfish. And lonely. The guilt you’ve been bottling up inside of you was too much to handle, and you knew you had to do something before you exploded.

Feeling disgusted with yourself, you pulled away from his lips. Yunho raised a brow at the sudden gesture. “What’s wrong?” He asked, his slightly concerned tone making your heart shatter into pieces.

“You should get going. It’s late.” You got up, forcing Yunho to pull off of you. He watched you as you went over to your dresser to pull out a fresh pair of pajamas, completely dumbfounded by your sudden coldness.

“Are you fucking serious?” He scoffed.

You shook your head, picking up his t-shirt that lay on the floor and tossing it over to him. His eyes flickered in anger and he threw his shirt back on the ground. “I don’t understand, why do you always do this!?”

You stayed quiet, quickly covering yourself before turning around to face him, keeping your eyes low, feeling too ashamed to meet his. “I’m sorry, but I need you to go.”

Yunho clenched his jaw. How could you be so cold? How could you invite him in, only to toss him out so abruptly? He thought about how you melted right into his embrace, how you kissed him back with the same amount of passion that he kissed you with. Was any of it real? Or was he too infatuated to notice that you were playing him, again?

“Why? Is Yeosang coming over? Do you really think that guy cares about you?”

You balled your fists up at the mention of Yeosang. “Stop.” You warned.

“And San? He’d fuck anything with two legs and a heartbeat. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, Yunho, that’s exactly what I want!” You snapped. A silence weighed in before Yunho’s lips curled up in an unexpected smile.

“What?” You teethed.

He shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t know what you want. That’s why you keep coming back to me.”

“Me?” You pointed to yourself, a crooked smile now spread across your lips. “No, it’s you that keeps coming back to me.” You jeered.

“And you let me! Why do you let me!? Time after time, you take me back without question, why?”

You crossed your arms and looked away from his direction. You felt hot, like the blood in your veins was boiling. You didn’t want to deal with this. You felt stupid for letting him in. Yunho always had questions, so many questions, and you couldn’t give him any answers. Fed up with your silence, Yunho got up and walked towards you, almost closing the gap between you two. You still didn’t look at him.

“And that night. Why did you come to me? Why didn’t you go to your other boyfriends? You were so different. Why did you act like it never happened the next day?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your expression softened remembering that night. It was so cold and rainy that night, and Yunho felt so warm. He made you feel so loved, so cared for, and for once you felt like you deserved someone like him. But the morning sun gave you some clarity, and you were reminded once again of what happens when you fully give your heart to someone. Yunho didn’t see it now, but he’ll understand it one day. Love is a wasted emotion. It gives and gives, until one day it takes everything back from you, and more.

“I don’t know.” You sighed.

That wasn’t good enough for him. He took another step forward, the tips of your noses now just centimeters away from each other. “I’ll tell you why,” He said, his voice softer than earlier. “It’s because you like me. It’s because I’m the only one who really understands you, the only one who sees more to you than just your body. That’s why you keep taking me back. It’s why you came to me that night. You knew you could be vulnerable with me, and that I wouldn’t turn you away, because-” He paused for a moment to lick his lips. “Because I like you too, y/n.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to ignore the sting so that you wouldn’t blink and force them to run down your cheeks. Your chest felt like it was engulfed in flames, making your breathing unsteady. You were too caught up in your emotions to realize that Yunho closed the gap and pressed his lips onto yours, his hands firmly placed at your waist.

He always kissed you like he wasn’t going to see you for a while. Maybe it was a force of habit considering all the times Yunho had ended things between you two. Or maybe, as he said, he liked you, and he wanted you to know from his touch if his words didn’t suffice. It felt right kissing him, real. Not like all the other times with your boy toys, who only kissed you because that’s just what came naturally when you're both rolling around naked in bed. Yunho never only kissed you on the lips, but everywhere else as well, your eyes, cheeks, forehead, and just every feature of you that made his heart swell and anywhere he could put his lips on if you let him.

It was so easy. All you had to do was wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back, leave this no strings attached bullshit behind, and let him lead the way. But you were reminded, reminded of him again, the one who took your heart and snapped it into two, the one who lead you to keep people at a distance and hurt them before they hurt you. That’s what you needed to do now, you told yourself. You had to hurt him. It made your heart ache even thinking of hurting Yunho, but you would be doing him a favor, even if he didn’t realize it now. You were damaged goods, not fit for sale. He’d be better off.

You pushed your hands on his chest to get him off you. Yunho, looking at you with such hope and hurt in his eyes, holding onto your hands that you used to keep him at a distance. He didn’t say anything, instead waiting for you to explain.

Your eyes were down at your feet, too afraid to look him in the eye and say your next words. “I’m sorry Yunho, but I just don’t feel the same.”

Yunho didn’t speak for a while. You wanted to look up at him, but you knew that seeing his reaction would crush you. You told yourself not to look. It was easier this way.

“You don’t mean that.” Yunho kept his voice steady, even though he could feel a slight lump forming in his throat. “I know you feel the same, y/n.”

You shook your head and a few droplets of tears splashed onto the carpet and onto your toes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

His hands let go of yours and he immediately brushed his fingers under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up. “You really don’t feel what I feel? Then why don’t you look at me and say it?”

He gazed down at you, waiting for your eyes to meet his, getting impatient with you when they didn’t. “Look at me and say you don’t want me.”

Overwhelmed, you moved your head around and pushed him off of you, too consumed in your rage to realize that for once that night, you were finally meeting his eyes.

“I don’t want you. I never cared for you. You were just a distraction. Whatever you think was going on, it’s not true. You don’t know me, you don’t know what’s going on in my head, so don’t act as you do! For the love of god Yunho, just get the fuck out!”

You panted after letting your frustrations out, the room now silent again. Nothing could have prepared you for the look on Yunho’s face right now. His sweet face was painted in constraint, his once cheery and sparkling brown eyes now glossy and downcast. You could feel your heart being ripped out of your chest, and for a moment you wanted to rush over to him and tell him you didn’t mean it, that you’ll do whatever he wants, be whatever he wants, as long as he stops making that face, but your legs stayed immobile and the words tangled up in your throat.

Yunho looked at you for a while, waiting to see if you would take those words back, but you never did. Swallowing the painful lump in his throat, he picked up his shirt from the floor and got dressed. You leaned back on your dresser, watching him as he put on his coat and slipped on his shoes. There was so much time to say something, anything, but neither of you uttered a word, and Yunho understood now that he said all that he needed to say, and that he couldn’t change your mind, even if he tried.

He was now at your entry door, and you followed behind him, staying back a couple of feet as you prepared to watch him leave your life once and for all. As he held onto the knob, he turned his head slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but decided against it, and went on with turning the knob, his tall frame disappearing behind the closing door.

You wanted to crawl into a ball and cry right there on the floor, but you stayed strong. You’re not crying over a guy again, you promised yourself. Even if it hurts…It’s for the best.

Finals were almost over, and the Library was seeing a reduction in visitors. The staff was partly relieved, enjoying the empty space and not having to be bothered to tell students to be quiet, confiscate their Cheeto bags (even though there’s a bold NO EATING sign at almost every table), and wake up tired students from their naps to tell them the library was closing. But there was one visitor who came almost daily and sat at the same exact spot in the same exact section. The Historical Fiction section.

The librarians didn’t know what his deal was. He’d come in with absolutely nothing, no backpack, no laptop, no textbook. They even doubted he brought his phone. Sometimes, he’d take a book off the historical fiction shelf and crack it open, although, unbeknownst to the library staff, he wasn’t actually reading anything. He tried to, but then his head would get fuzzy and he’d get lost in thought, his eyes darting around every time he heard the Library door open or footsteps approach his section, only for it to be another student or a staff member, and when he’d sigh and look back down at his book, he’d forget where he left off and start from the beginning again.

They didn’t know he was waiting on a girl. If they did, they would probably feel bad for him, and maybe even find his efforts to be a little pathetic. But to Yunho, it didn’t matter to him what they thought. Being the tortured romantic that he was, he still had hope that you two would be together again. He wasn’t going to crawl back to you like all the other times. Instead, he was going to wait. He believed the day would come where you’d grow sick from your passing relationships and realize your true feelings for him. And when you realize that, you’ll come running to the Library where you two first met, and you would find him there, sitting at your table in your special little corner of the Library. He’d greet you with a friendly smile, and pull out a chair for you, and you two would just pick up where you left off as if nothing else ever happened. Maybe then he’d take you out on a real date, maybe to a fancy restaurant which neither of you could pronounce the name of, and afterward, you’d crash at his place and you’d lay in his arms just as you did that night, and he’d whisper corny jokes into your hair, both of you laughing softly until you finally fell asleep. Maybe, after a while of sleeping over, you’d take a liking to his idea of moving into a small and cramped apartment on the outskirts of the city, where there’s no one around to bother you except each other. Maybe. Who knows.

They didn’t know he was waiting on a girl. If they did, they would probably feel bad for him, and maybe even find his efforts to be a little pathetic. But to Yunho, it didn’t matter what they thought. Being the tortured romantic that he was, he still had hope that you two would be together again. He wasn’t going to crawl back to you like all the other times. Instead, he was going to wait. He believed the day would come where you’d grow sick from your passing relationships and realize your true feelings for him. And when you realize that, you’ll come running to the place where you two first met, and you would find him there, sitting at your table in your special little corner of the Library. He’d greet you with a friendly smile, and pull out a chair for you, and you two would just pick up where you left off as if nothing else ever happened. Maybe then he’d take you out on a real date, maybe to a fancy restaurant which neither of you could pronounce the name of, and afterward, you’d crash at his place and you’d lay in his arms just as you did that night, and he’d whisper corny jokes into your hair, both of you laughing softly until you finally fell asleep. Maybe, after a while of sleeping over, you’d take a liking to his idea of moving into a small and cramped apartment on the outskirts of the city, where there’s no one around to bother you except each other. Maybe. Who knows.

Finals were almost over, and the Library was seeing a reduction in visitors. The staff was partly relieved, enjoying the empty space and not having to be bothered to tell students to be quiet, confiscate their Cheeto bags (even though there’s a bold NO EATING sign at almost every table), and wake up tired students from their naps to tell them they were closing. But there was one visitor who came almost daily and sat at the same exact spot in the same exact section like clockwork. The Historical Fiction section.

The librarians didn’t know what his deal was. He’d come in with absolutely nothing, no backpack, no laptop, and no textbook to indicate if he was taking a summer class at least. Sometimes, he’d take a book off the historical fiction shelf and crack it open, although, unbeknownst to the library staff, he wasn’t actually reading anything. He tried to, but then his head would get fuzzy and he’d get lost in thought, his eyes darting around every time he heard the Library door open or footsteps approach his section, only for it to be another student or a staff member, and when he’d sigh and look back down at his book, he’d forget where he left off and start from the beginning again.

They didn’t know he was waiting on a girl. If they did, they would probably feel bad for him, and maybe even find his efforts to be a little pathetic. But to Yunho, it didn’t matter what they thought. Being the tortured romantic that he was, he still had hope that you two would be together again. He wasn’t going to crawl back to you like all the other times. Instead, he was going to wait. He believed the day would come where you’d grow sick from your passing relationships and realize your true feelings for him. And when you realize that, you’ll come running to the Library where you two first met, and you would find him there, sitting at your table in your special little corner of the Library. He’d greet you with a friendly smile, and pull out a chair for you, and you two would pick up where you left off as if nothing else ever happened. Maybe then he’d take you out on a real date, maybe to a fancy restaurant which neither of you could pronounce the name of, and afterward, you’d crash at his place and lay in his arms just as you did that night, and he’d whisper corny jokes into your hair, both of you laughing softly until you finally fell asleep. Maybe, after a while of sleeping over, you’d take a liking to his idea of moving into a small and cramped apartment on the outskirts of the city, where there’s no one around to bother you except each other. Maybe. Who knows.

#yunho x reader #yunho angst #yunho smut #yunho fanfic #yunho scenarios #ateez smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez angst #ateez fluff #yunho fluff

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moog-enthusiast · 1 year

Text

i wish we got to see more of basil being a dramatic asshole like its so silly? "thanks a lot, hector." "it was okay." "i've got the winning hand, hehe." like! hes so goober. even in an image where hes talking about how sweet mari and sunny's sibling bond is. he wries out the word sigh. he writes it out so the reader knows he's lightly jealous lmfao??? the way he teases hero & mari (“they sure look cozy”) and the way he teases sunny about his crush on aubrey. little punk…

it carries over into him offhandendly agreeing kel is a prick? funny as hell. that wasnt an accident but it wasnt like he had any mal-intent either. he just thinks its funny to be a shit.

absolutely he’s a good natured and kind boy!! but he’s not a perfectly cheery kid- he also finds pleasure in messing with people, and acts all dramatic over small things for the sillies. It’s one of my favorite aspects of his character

#omori #omori basil #basil analysis #omori analysis #basil is so goofy #what a normal guy #he’s so me ok #goober

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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 3 months

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hcs for all the castlevania boys (trevor, issac, hector, alucard, dracula, godbrand, the judge, varney, ratko & st. germain- i think that's all of them lol) caring for s/o reader on their period. can be modern times or past times whichever u prefer. 💖

A/N: I wish more people would be less disgusted and more understanding when it comes to menstruation. There are still so many myths circulating about it, I’m shocked sometimes. One time a guy on Twitter said he thought women got periods because they evolved to eat meat. And I was like…. Excuse you?? Lol. Anyway, on to the HCs!

Sorry, some are short. I wanted to do longer to make it fair but there were like TEN characters mentioned and my max is supposed to be SIX so some are taking a far back seat.

TW: Blood, Period Mention (still w/ GN Reader)

Castlevania Boys Helping S/O GN!Reader with Their Period: 🩸

Trevor:

Is surprisingly resourceful, given the man was a wandering drunk when you first met him.

Not so much in a kind about-it way, he’s very sarcastic and so over the whole thing right after it starts.

But he did have a large family once so he remembers what his sisters and mother went through.

Will cut off strips of his cape for you to use, but expects you to take care of any sort of ‘mess’, he’s pre-occupied cleaning whatever latest monster’s guts off himself anyway

Buys a whiskey but lets YOU drink most of it to help with the cramps (and for him this is the ultimate sign he loves you lol).

Alucard:

Is unexpectedly awkward for someone whose mother was a doctor.

He’s very knowledgeable but unsure of how to broach the subject, sort of giving you instructions on what to do (as if you made it to the age you did without knowing??).

And of course, the castle has everything you could need, and if it doesn’t, he won’t hesitate to travel to get it for you. Although he does insist you stay in while he retrieves it.

If you’ve been together for a while, offers to help clean you up in equal parts removed curiosity and bewitched hunger (although he’s comparatively embarrassed about that later part).

Hector:

Not phased at all. The man’s used to sticking his hands into corpses, why would menstrual blood be an issue?

Isn’t super knowledgeable about it, he’s been alone focusing solely on his needs for so many years, and this was never one of them. But he does try and learn now that he has you.

He sends his most trustworthy night creatures and reanimated pets to go hunting for the herbs and wild medicines you use. On the other hand, Hector orders the more domesticated pets to stay and cuddle/play with you.

On the days you’re curled up in a ball in bed, he offers to read some of the books he’s been writing as he knows you find his voice very soothing.

Isaac:

Fascinated by human psychology and biology from an earlier age, so he’s moderately educated on the subject.

Blood does not scare him, but he does understand the societal stigma around sharing such a natural cycle with him.

Like Hector, he sends out his night creatures to fetch you whatever you need.

Ensure you drink enough tea and water to stay hydrated. Also asks that you eat plenty of red meat to help replace some of the iron you’ve lost.

Is one of the few men that requests you stay as active as you can, limiting rather than stopping your regular activities. Movement and keeping your mind occupied should make the days pass much faster, as Issac is a firm believer that self-discipline is one of the most powerful tools of all.

Godbrand:

Not grossed out, but ends up grossing YOU out with his enthusiasm about the whole thing

Will of course offer to go down there himself and ‘take care of matters like a man’ - his words, not yours.

What? For Godbrand, being with a living, breathing, and most importantly, bleeding human are the perks of your relationship. It’s like having a partner and a constant food source all in one!

Will absolutely curse out if not straight-up attack any other vampire who dares to bitch about your mood swings or irritable behavior. And then once you’re out of earshot, he will proceed to bitch about said mood swings and irritable behavior. What? At least he’s gentlemanly enough not to do it to your face.

Dracula:

The most caring and respectful king fr

He is super understanding and educated on the subject. In fairness, he’s probably curated half of the books on menstruation within his vast libraries.

Has the necessary products on hand- strips of cloth, herbs for cramping and pain, teas, and a medieval-era heating pad of his own invention.

Like Godbrand, offers to pleasure you down there to help relieve some cramps with the help of an orgasm, although he’s much more romantic and poetic when he suggests such a thing to you. And unlike Godbrand, he’s in it solely for your benefit. The idea that he’d get to feed as well is the farthest thing on his mind.

Literally the most perfect and doting husband to ever walk the face of this earth oh my god.

The Judge:

Expects you to handle it yourself lol.

Don’t ask him for advice or aid. If you must seek out assistance, he directs you to another woman or midwife within the town.

Considers it highly inappropriate to discuss such matters, even if you’re together.

0/10, not very helpful, would not recommend.

Saint Germain

Knows a decent amount of what to expect and how to aid you should you request it.

He’s well-educated and very well-traveled, so he’s encountered quite a few different cultural views of menstruation.

Does, however, expect you to take care of the more messy parts of it.

He will offer you back rubs or make tea, but aside from him being aware of your current condition, he doesn’t change the way he treats you much at all.

Sala:

Gets high key disgusting with it

Asks if you can gather all your bloody rags in a big bowl so he can perform some satanic ritual with it. (You’re like… Um, no??? Unless you’re cray-cray too, which, if you’re with him, has a fair chance of ringing true.)

Will tell everyone else in the monastery about it cuz he’s a freak like that.

Keeps reminding you how in your current state, you would be a perfect sacrifice for the Great Lord Dracula… Ya know, because of the blood thing?

Subtly is NOT his strong suit

Varney:

The entity also known as Death knows your cycle better than you do lol.

Keeps a mental calendar in his head, and starts peppering you with more kisses than usual a few days before your bleeding starts.

Just really wants to get on your good side. And wants you to recall in the coming days, how sweet he was to you, so you know, you don’t take all your anger and frustration out on him.

Very little scares him, he is Death after all. But aside from people not dying and Belmont giving him another go, your mood swings on your period scare the hell out of him.

He’s not a patient man, and by day seven, Varney feels rather demoralized after being encumbered by his partner’s common human condition.

Begs Ratko for help. Is promptly told to piss off.

Ratko:

Doesn’t react, except to tell you that you smell so much better this way.

He delivers that line in such a deadpan too, you almost misunderstand what he’s talking about.

Admits that he’d be willing to ‘clean you up’, should you find that arousing.

Regards you the same, but does find himself staying closer to you than normal, for fear the other vampires and night creatures around you will find your scent so enticing and try to take what’s his.

Challenges anyone who looks your way longer than five seconds. Partly as a means to protect his claim over you, but mainly because he rather enjoys the combat practice.

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