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#i did orange bc it's fall and i love orange leaves so much
korereapers · 6 months
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I collaborated with the amazing @laxi0v0 for a cute little event we made in the scriddler server. This is Laxi's art about the fic I wrote, and HONESTLY HONESTLY i couldn't have asked for a better and more supportive partner. Her art is way better than I would ever dream on writing and honestly, Laxi, I'm so glad it was you bc we vibe a lot about our tastes w this ship.
The fic will be on ao3 later, but here, for you guys, before anyone else:
Jonathan takes a sip out his mug, nicely decorated with a pumpkin, the recipe of the pumpkin spice coffee perfected by him for decades. It’s warm, it tastes like fall, and it’s the start of what Jonathan considers to be the best time of the year.
It started like a small tradition for him, when he finally left home and started studying to become the psychologist he wanted to be. Halloween was to be celebrated, especially for freaks like him, abhorrent creatures that made great-granny’s skin crawl. He was proud of that, in a way. It was his moment, it still is, after all of these years, because he is still a freak, he belongs to this weather and these colors more than he belongs anywhere else. He belongs between ocher leaves and the smell of fog, the rain starting to fall over Gotham, only to leave when it’s summer again. The start of his kingdom, of the time he rules over.
Or it would be, if Edward wasn’t so adamant about going to freaking Starbucks.
He doesn’t get it, not really. A malnourished child from Georgia, surrounded by overworked kids that serve them with the most forced smile when Edward asks, yet again, for the infamous Pumpkin Spice Latte. With ice. Oatmeal milk. Whipped cream.
Jonathan wants to die.
“How is this even supposed to be spooky?”
Edward rolls his eyes, green contact lenses barely moving, as if they were starting to get glued to his irises. Which should be a bad sign, but Jonathan is, yet again, not his boyfriend’s keeper.
“Not everything has to be spooky when this time arrives, Jonathan.”
He kind of dislikes it, when he calls him by his full name. He calls him Jon when they are alone, when they are intimate, when their bodies or their hearts are entwined. He doesn’t like when he calls him Jonathan, because that means that Edward thinks he is being too bitter, complaining too much, a complete prick.
It’s not that he dislikes the stupid PSL, either, but it feels like desecrating one of his oldest traditions, and he feels as if he were betraying himself.
���Don’t you like my recipe, then? Do you dislike it so much we have to come here every single week?”
The cashier smiles at them awkwardly as Edward pays for their order, tipping the young lady generously.
“Do you have to take everything personally? I started getting here when I finally had my own money to spend. Is it that hard to just enjoy it, when I want to share it with you?”
Oh. A tradition. Jonathan distractedly drinks from his thematic glass, but says nothing.
They are really different, Edward and himself. To Edward, spending time and money like this… is almost a love language. It’s a lifestyle that he works hard to keep, having dinner in expensive places, getting coffee every time he can. Sharing it with him, because Jonathan is important to him.
Jonathan may be unable to feel fear, and his brain may be as damaged as Edward’s heart, but guilt still crawls its way into his psyche. It still makes him feel uneasy, because he cares, because he understands the feeling, because he wants to share his recipe with Edward because of the exact same reason.
He touches Edward’s hand when they sit, an apology he doesn’t utter but that can be felt in his irradiated orange eyes.
“I like it when you share time and nourishment with me.”
Edward’s expression softens, a glint of blue under the bright green contact lenses.
“Wow, when did you get emotionally aware?” his mouth says instead, and for a moment, Jonathan understands the Bat and his compulsion to punch him in the mouth.
“I’m a psychologist, Edward.”
“... right,” he mutters, his voice cheeky, still clearly a little mad, his thoughts loud. Jonathan loves that about him, his expression when he is deep in thought, when he is trying to understand something. A puzzle, a new riddle in their lives. “That recipe of yours is really important to you, too, if I’m guessing correctly.”
Jonathan nods, his eyes still on Edward’s, who seems to be feeling a little bit too shy to look at him, knowing that they are having an emotionally vulnerable moment.
“It is. I made it myself and… I want to share it with you.”
Edward does smile a little at that, his voice softer when he speaks.
“Let me try it later. I want to give it the thought and recognition it deserves.”
Jonathan’s thumb caresses Edward’s hand, his smile contagious. Like a well concocted virus.
“I would love to.”
—-------------------------------------------
Edward is pretty sure that he is (very unluckily, by the way) dating the man with the poorest taste in the world. Jonathan seems to think that he is hilarious, dressed in his usual costume, even the needles oozing toxin as he sits quietly on the couch.
There is a thing about him that Edward has always loved: how he becomes a different person when the mask is on.
They used to talk about it, back in the day, when they used to share a room in the Asylum. Jonathan felt naked without his mask, his expression dull and almost tense, devoid of what made him himself. Edward, at least, has managed to make those expressions change, the real Jon emerging from behind whatever aloof façade he tries to put on to protect himself, to pretend he is a regular human being and not the freak that makes his heart melt.
He must surely be smiling behind the mask, then. Edward can almost feel him vibrating in excitement, like a small child, and in a way, he kind of is. A reclaimed childhood, the enjoyment of a joy he wasn’t allowed to feel. He can understand that.
Still, the poorest fucking choice of a Halloween costume.
“Really, Jon? The most original idea, I have to say.”
Jonathan looks at him, and he can feel his piercing eyes even behind the mask, the expression of a predator, so dangerous it makes his face flush a little. Birds of a feather, both of them. The Scarecrow sighs, deeply, the sound distorted behind the mask. It’s creepy, he has to admit, which is probably… kind of the point.
“Like you’re one to talk, Herlock Sholmes.”
Edward gasps, indignant. His Poirot costume is nothing to be laughed at.
“Excuse me?!”
He can almost feel the smile behind the mask, because Edward knows him, he knows Jonathan is an avid reader, he knows the difference between Agatha Christie and Arthur Conan Doyle, for fuck's sake. He is doing this on purpose, to rile him up. He always is.
Edward's mind goes somewhere else, somewhere private. Somewhere where he is indeed riled up, and Jonathan touches his cheek, looking up at his face from behind the mask, Edward sitting on his lap, while long, dangerous hands go up his thigh, eyes hungry-
The doorbell rings. Edward goes back to reality, Jonathan's eyes on him as he moves towards the entrance, the tips of his ears surely blushing.
When he opens the door, he has to look down, because damn, kids sure look tinier these days. He cannot remember to be this short, this innocent, this…
Happy.
He feels Jonathan's chin on his shoulder, almost jumping in place because the man is silent like a ghost, no matter how eager he is to take part in the holiday.
One of the kids is wearing a Batman costume, and Edward tries his hardest not to roll his eyes, with better or worse success. Another kid is dressed as Harley Quinn, what makes him wonder if these parents are in need of any kind of psychological help. The youngest, a child dressed as Wonder Woman, looks at them with badly hidden mischief, and Edward feels tempted to just close the door.
"Trick or treat!" They ask in unison, and before Edward can answer, Jonathan drops a bag in front of them, full of who knows what, but the kids don't ask.
Such blissful ignorance.
"Thank you Mister Holmes! Mister Scarecrow!" The girl dressed up as Batman says, and the one dressed as Wonder Woman purses her lips in disgust.
"Poirot's moustache isn't like that. You're a fake."
The kid dressed as Harley Quinn laughs in response, taking the bag of candy and running away with Wonder Woman. The one dressed as Batman follows who Edward believes to be her sisters, and he blissfully thanks that they don't have any children.
"Please tell me the bag is full of drugs."
Jonathan chuckles a little, his arms around Edward's waist.
"Hershey's," is everything he says, his sudden lack of malice and evil intent a headache for Edward.
"Oh, Jon. Are you going soft on me?"
Jonathan's smile can be felt in the air, a predator, a killer awaiting their next victim.
"Me? Oh, darlin'..." he whispers against Edward's ear, his distorted voice making him shudder in anticipation. "Never."
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crystalflygeo · 1 year
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The dragon and the sacrificial lamb ft. eroded!Zhongli + gn!reader
cw/tags: rape/non-con, angst, bad ending, yandere-ish zhongli? feral/eroded zhongli, biting, crying, restraints (courtesy of improper use of geo as usual ehe)
notes: Alright this is a special one get ready. There's two "version" of this story bc I couldn't decide which path I liked more. This one is the dark/bad ending. Both stories are exactly the same at the start, changing a few word here and there but then reach a point where they divert completely in reactions/emotions and the underlying feeling of the stories are very different. They can be read independently ofc so by all means feel free to choose which tags you vibe with more or enjoy picking up the differences between both!
Bittersweet ending version here!!
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Once upon a time…
A long, long time ago…
The people of Liyue revered their beloved Archon Rex Lapis. Just and kind, he led his nation for millennia, upholding order and contracts, defeating countless enemies, and defending their safe Harbor.
It is said the Lord of Geo took a human as partner, and fell in love deep and pure.
And his partner loved him just as much.
A love that would tragically become a twisted obsession.
It is said the God understood that even he himself was not immune to erosion, and it would one day be his downfall. So, he made sure his people were ready to live on without him. That his adepti were strong enough to subdue him if the day ever came.
As for his lover… well…
-----
Your bare feet crunch along the soft grass as you run and run, panting, gasping for air, almost tripping and letting out a yelp but quickly regaining balance and scurrying faster, past the falling golden ginkgo leaves, past the soft sound of rushing waters.
The golden sunset is gorgeous, dying the sky pink and orange with pastel hues but you simply ignore it, having grown tired of it, sick even. It is fake, an illusion. Just as everything else in this adeptal abode.
Everything except, of course, you and the beast you are currently fleeing from.
It is useless to try to escape, this you know, and your heart clenches painfully as tears prickle at your eyes. You’ve done this before, played this game many many times. But at least for one moment… just one moment…
A roar turns your blood to ice and against all common sense you look over your shoulder to see a massive long dragon twisting in the air and diving straight towards you.
Your legs tremble and fail you as you fall down, the grass is soft but your body aches, tired, burning. You scramble around frantically to stare at the beast again and your eyes widen in panic as it lands right on top of you, majestic and terrifying, caging you with its serpentine body. The golden claws alone are as long as your forearms, digging on the ground at either side of you.
You whimper.
The dragon lowers his head, growling at you, fangs mere inches apart and you squeeze your eyes shut, tears running down your face.
“Why do you run away from me?”
“Leave me alone!” You scream.
“Are you not happy with me? My mate?”
At the words you only sob harder.
Mate.
Oh, how much joy did that word bring you once. And now you can only feel your heart shatter.
You feel a shift in the wind, in the energy, in the light around you, and when you open your eyes, the massive dragon has faded to a more human appearance. He changes back to the form you’re most used to.
Long strands of dark hair tipped amber, striking golden eyes with stunning red lines that highlight their sharpness, a handsome face and a muscular body with arms died black, and lines of gold… lines that run along his cheek and down his neck. Cracks, like a broken glass, like scars, under his eyes and around his chest, ruining the pristine skin and unable to disappear despite his ability to change forms.
The undeniable marks of erosion.
You snap back to attention when he dips down and starts nosing at your neck, his hands pulling at the robe you’re wearing, the only article of clothing you picked up before scurrying away from the mansion. It parts open easily, revealing your naked body to his eyes, littered in past bruises, hickeys and bite marks. Claims from the dragon.
“W-wait. Stop-!” You try to push him back, panicked, desperately pressing your palms against his broad shoulders, but of course he’s immovable as stone.
You kick and trash until he gets irritated and suddenly your arms are immobilized, held above your head and pressed onto the ground by heavy geo cuffs.
“Submit.” He growls.
You squirm a little more until your body sags into the ground, exhausted, panting. There is no use. Instead, you shudder as his hands grope and rub all over your body, rough and callous.
He spreads your legs and slots between them as your breath catches. His palm presses at a spot on your navel possessively, a glittering geo symbol engraved on your skin there, glowing subtly like his horns. You whine.
Then his touch goes lower and teases at your entrance, circling the hole and dipping in just barely.
“Z-Zhongli-!”
Another growl comes out of his throat, deep and guttural. “You dare speak another man’s name in my presence? In my realm? When you belong to me?!”
Your whole body shakes, with rage, with fear. Your heart about to burst. You grit your teeth and glare at the dragon god with as much venom as you can.
“I don’t belong to you!”
He snarls, eyes widening to serpentine slits.
“Insolent. No matter, I’ll fill you up again and show you.”
The eroded God leans down to bite at your neck and you yelp, sharp fangs break your skin and you cry as you feel the warm blood spill. His claws prick at your thighs as he starts unceremoniously humping against you. The ridges on his draconic cock making your hole twitch and you gasp as he presses in, dipping slightly inside your thigh warmth. No need to prepare your body after so many years of coupling. Your hole already soft and molded to him like a worn-out toy.
“No, please… n-no.” Your voice breaks, tears running down your face.
Everything turns blurry, fuzzy, and your head spins.
How had things ended up like this?
You see no love in his eyes, no recognition. And you don’t recognize him either anymore. This creature, this beast… he is not your lover. He is not Zhongli…
And hasn’t been for who knows how long…
Zhongli raises one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other and pushes further in the slick warmth, ignoring the sounds you make. “Too big! I can’t-!” You scream and it just urges him to slam it in. “No- Ahh!” Sheathed all the way to the hilt, Zhongli groans as you clench around him.
He immediately starts thrusting and you feel the world tilt. It’s all too much, the sound of skin slapping against skin, your walls getting battered by his thick member, his animalistic grunts and groans, and the way your body betrays you… a speck of pleasure mixed in with the pain.
It's so cruel.
“Sto- gh! Stop it! Zhongli, please…!” You sob.
Zhongli hisses, muscles taut and flexing as his hips buck into yours, finally finding that spot that has you choking out a moan, your body shivers, forced to surrender and feel everything, a hot coil building on your lower stomach where the mark of geo glows as he continues to take what he wants from your struggling form. He laps at your skin and nuzzles there, almost lovingly. “Mine.”
Your moans start turning sweeter, previously pained sounds turning to vocalizations of carnal lust, your eyes glassy. You try to fight it, conflicted, but the stimulation is too much.
You come with a raw cry through gritted teeth, tears flowing down your cheeks and your own juices coating your skin causing you to feel dirty in more ways than one. Zhongli continues through your overstimulated state, chasing his own pleasure as his thrust become erratic until finally, he stills deep inside and moans long and low, painting your insides white.
You feel him twitch inside you and groan, absolutely exhausted, overwhelmed with emotions, feeling sick, used and abused. He lowers your leg but doesn’t bother pulling out, keeping you there as he nips at your skin, murmuring soft words. “My mate. All pretty and filled up. All mine. Love you.”
You can’t bear to hear those words, spoken in the voice you continue to love after all this time. It shatters your soul, breaking it to pieces like the corroded dragon’s destroyed mind.
Feeling about to pass out, you close your eyes and your head lolls to the side, sniffling against your own forearm as tears continue to fall. “I love… Zhongli. Miss him. I hate you…”
He dissolves the geo shackles into specks of gold and holds your unconscious body in his arms, satisfied with the claims and scent he’s left on you. His tail swishes slowly, pleased with himself as he carries you back to the abode’s mansion.
Home.
Were he’ll keep you safe, bound to him.
Forever and always.
-----
…It is said that his lover is the key to keep the eroded God confined.
Trapped by the possessive dragon in a sealed realm, to keep him ensnared, enchanted and bound to them.
Until they both turn to dust.
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s-4pphics · 1 month
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mourn. teaser (e.w.)
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TEASER. 
WORD COUNT: eight thirty :3
WARNINGS: streetracer!ellie, dealer!oc, heavy angst, HEAVY MENTIONS OF ADDICTION AND VIOLENCE IN THE FUTURE, no one’s a good person bc i’m grieving 
A/N: sad
fck neil drukman. zios will d!e.
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FEBRUARY, 2019
Ellie’s fist comes down hard on your front door, the aged and loosened wood rattling with the desperate punctures from her twitchy hand. You’re always here. You never miss a fucking phone call. Why won’t you open the fucking door? Her chest falls rapidly like oxygen is limited. The winds are seconds away from crushing her bones into dust, it seems. Panicked curses fall from her mouth; How did you allow her to get this far? Her throat swells in warning as her eyes fill. C’mon… c’mon, you fucking bitch—
Her palm twists around the doorknob, rattling it, strangling it, begging for it to loosen so you can deliver what you promised. You never fucking miss her calls. She whimpers like a dog when the lock doesn’t shutter. You have to fucking be here. 
She doesn’t realize she’s begging with her mouth against the wood. Anyone she can; her mother, God, for you to fucking be home and save her from misery. She’s freezing and fiends to shed her skin like a snake. 
Fucking stupid bitch, Ellie gasps. Her first breath in what felt like years, Open the motherfucking do—
Ellie?
Her eyes, tearful and lost, find yours. Clad in all black with her vice thrown over your shoulder, guarded by your more than recognizable bright orange duffel. Ellie nearly drools at the sight, Please… please let me in, I’m gonna fucking die—
She has angered you in an instant, face twisting with creases between your brows. You always are when she shows up unannounced. In her defense, she warned you before she wandered upon your place. Dialed your number for an hour straight. 
I fucking told you a billion times—
I know, I know—
You trek until you’re in front of her, snarling your teeth like a lion, You don’t fucking know. You’re— Palms connect with Ellie’s chest and she stutters back, — I fucking told you no. Find somebody else. 
Ellie’s rebuttal is sharp as she grips your wrist, There’s no one fucking else and you know it. Don’t pull this shit right now—
You scoff and shove her off to unlock your door. She hates how her mind whirs to shove you to the side and steal away with your bag. Take your drunk ass home—
She fails to deny her intoxication. The stabbing pains in her side won’t allow it, And if I don’t? The fuck are you gonna do? Ellie snorts and it’s dark. Shoot me in the goddamn face? … Call the cops? 
Your door is unlocked, but you don’t open it. She can feel exhaustion radiating off you. It weighs her down. You weigh her down. She hates what you’ve done to her. If anything, you owe her for the damage you’ve caused. So, she preys. Claws at the one inkling of leverage she has over you. The only thing you’ll never back away from. 
Ellie’s eyes go soft. A ploy she’s mastered over the years. I love you so much… You can’t leave me like this… Your sharp exhale is painful to digest. She pads closer with tightly clenched fists; watches yours clutch the knob of the entrance as grounding. I won’t do it here. I promise, She whispers and watches your shoulders droop. Pride disguised as guilt sparks in her chest. She can practically taste euphoria. 
Ellie… Your voice shakes. She’s instantly transported back to high school. The ache in your strained call still remains. Dejected. 
Yes? Her reply is sweet as candy, and she knows she’s got you. Fingers jump underneath the cuff of her jacket sleeve. Eager, anticipating the rush of crushed pills in her nose. 
You’re heaving, chest rising and falling at an increased pace with tearful eyes glued to your rusted roof. All before you choke, If I ever see you again, I’ll rip your fucking throat out. 
Every time Ellie believes she’s grown used to your aggression, she’s proven wrong. Your anger causes her body to lock, feet glued to the floor as her expression drops. You manage to throw yourself into the shack you call home, door slamming in her face and lock clicking, trapping her in icy wind. 
NO! Nonononono—
Ellie’s screaming into the void, screeching like a banshee on cracked concrete as she kicks at your door with a weighted heel. 
On the other side, you drop to the floor, stocked duffel flung as far away from you as humanly possible in your hysteria. Your sobs are earth-shattering and your chest cracks open, scratching at unkept hardwood as you recall how the fuck you got here. There’s no future, no hope, no anything for you. For your best friend whom you’ve destroyed. You’ve ruined her. 
Ruined yourself in fire. 
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heartsoji · 1 year
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MISINTERPRET
akaashi keiji x reader
summary: akaashi is kind. he's kind to you, but he's also kind to everyone. you need to make sure you don't misinterpret his kindness.
a/n: akaashi getting a quad bc he's abt to hang out with bokuto is so funny to me
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you'd always considered yourself an observant person.
you were good at watching people. you picked up on their habits, tendencies, movement style, and hidden traits. you picked up on how they responded to certain comments and the best way to be friends with them. you were on the quieter side, but you were well respected for being eternally considerate and kind.
also due to this nature, you were a very good judge of character. you found that the kindest and most interesting people were typically either very loud or very quiet, occasionally coming in the middle, though that wasn't often.
for example, take bokuto koutaro, the star pin on the team you co-managed. he was one of the loudest, bubbliest, people you had ever met, and also one of the kindest. he had a way of lighting up the room, and the way he cared for everyone you met was always heartwarming to see.
on the other hand, take someone like akaashi keiji, the setter on the same team. he was much like you. quiet, observant, yet one of the kindest, most tender-hearted people you'd ever met. he was a true gentlemen and was always considerate of other people's feelings and their boundaries. he was also in a few of your classes, and he was always so kind and warm. if you were being honest, you'd developed a small crush on him due to that.
you and akaashi were friends. being similar in nature, you two were quite compatible and got along well. you'd often study in the library together, and you took that as a chance to sneak glances at his stupidly handsome face every so often. however, his face wasn't the only part of him you loved. (though it was certainly an added bonus) there was something about him, aside from his kindness and good nature, that made you feel warm. welcomed. seen. you hadn't ever felt that way about anyone before, and you just knew that he was special.
"hey, l/n-san, uh, so for this part, do you think that the main idea of the passage is- l/n-san? l/n-san? are you alright? l/n-san?"
you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder bringing you out of your trance.
"sorry. yes?"
"ah, i was just asking a question about this part."
"oh, i see. so, in my opinion, i think that.."
as you talked, it might've been your imagination, but you felt like he was gazing at you. however, if you glanced away to see if he was, you'd lose your train of thought, so you continued on, your cheeks becoming slightly rosy as you did so.
after you two finished studying, he cleared his throat.
"uhm, l/n-san, would you like to stop by the cafe on the way to the train station with me?"
your eyes widened before a happy smile spread across your face.
"i'd love to!"
you walked with him to the cafe, making lovely conversation along the way. akaashi was kind, patient, and a good listener, too. talking with him was like riding a bike for the first time in a while. you're a bit nervous before you start, but once you do, its easy, relaxing, and fun.
"the leaves are beginning to turn orange." you commented.
"indeed. it's quite beautiful." he replied, a gentle smile on his handsome features.
"right? it's so pretty! it's a shame they'll fall soon." you said, an excited look on your face present before slightly saddening at the thought of bare trees.
he chuckled. "is fall your favorite season?" he asked.
"hmm.. maybe! i like how pretty the leaves are, but i'm not fond of how chilly it can get." you replied. "it's actually pretty cold right now. i probably should've worn a thicker coat or a scarf."
"oh, are you cold?" he asked before quickly removing his scarf. "here, take my scarf."
you felt your cheeks warming up. "no, no, akaashi-san, keep it! i'm really fine." you protested. he really was kind. he immediately tried to offer what was keeping him comfortable to you in order to ensure your own comfort. that selfless nature of his might be one of the sweetest parts of him - the ability to love and care for others, even when at the expense of himself.
"please, l/n-san, i insist. it wouldn't be good if you caught a cold. i'd be worried." your eyes widened slightly. he'd be worried? however, almost immediately after saying that, he gave a small cough. "i mean, the team and i, of course."
of course. he was just being kind. your feelings for him were beginning to make you misinterpret his simple kindness.
you accepted the scarf. "thank you, akaashi-san. i really appreciate it."
he let out a sigh of relief as he handed you the scarf. "of course. also.. you, uhm, don't need to be so formal with me." he started slowly. "i'd... be much.. uh, happier, if you just called me akaashi. we're on the same team, after all. you're the only one who still uses an honorific with my name."
you smiled. "of course, akaashi. that goes for you, too. just l/n is fine."
he returned your smile. "got it. thank you, l/n."
your heart skipped a beat when his voice spoke just your name. akaashi was making you fall harder for him by the minute, but you felt a bit sad knowing that your chances of being with him or him at least slightly reciprocating your feelings were slim to none. after all, akaashi was an extraordinarily skilled athlete whose personality, height, and overall good looks attracted many girls, even ones from different schools. akaashi's a very kind person. don't misinterpret it.
when you arrived at the cafe, akaashi had you order first. you ordered your usual basic latte, but he ordered a quad, something you'd never tried before.
when your drinks came, you noticed that his had a nicer aroma than you were expecting. he noticed you staring at him as he took his first sip and commented on it. "is something the matter?"
"no, no. i was just wondering what four whole shots of espresso could possibly taste like. i've never heard of anyone with that drink order before. and also, why four shots?! isn't that like, a ton of caffeine? you're not gonna be able to sleep tonight!"
he chuckled. "i need the energy. i promised bokuto-san i would set him some balls today, since it's a friday, and i have a feeling that we'll be going for a while. as for the taste, i quite like it, though it's definitely an acquired taste. bokuto-san tried it once, and he spat it at the wall." he said, chuckling at the memory. "i really enjoy the bitterness of the espresso. i think that out of the five flavors, i think that bitterness very well may be the most underrated one. well, it's in my top two, anyways. additionally, espresso contains immune-boosting antioxidants and-" he then stopped himself short, seeming a bit embarrassed all of a sudden. "ah.. i'm sorry for rambling. uh.. would you like a sip?" he offered.
you smiled. "yes, please! i think it sounds very interesting."
you took the cup from his outstretched hand and took a careful sip. you then began trying to register the flavor. however, while you were doing so, although your face remained stoic, you were internally freaking out. you just shared an indirect kiss with your crush, and he had offered it to you without a second thought. you just shared an indirect kiss with the akaashi keiji. you just shared an indirect kiss with him, and you were trying your best not to start smiling and blushing at it.
stop. don't misinterpret it. don't misinterpret his charity, his kindness. you had asked what his drink tasted like and he was explaining it to you before doing the kind thing to do, offer you a taste. he probably wasn't aware of the fact that you two shared an indirect kiss anyway, and it was only you who was thinking about it-
you stopped that thought at the sight of akaashi. at the sight of akaashi clearly trying to avoid staring at the mouth hole of his cup, but failing miserably, a rosy blush dusting his cheeks, and his lips slightly upturned. at the sight of akaashi keiji, nervously trying to ask what you thought of it, clearly still flustered, and still staring at the mouth hole of his cup.
suddenly feeling a bit confident from his reaction, you licked your lips while holding eye contact. "it was good." you said. "it tasted a little like you, too."
you watched as his cheeks turned from rosy to red, averting his eyes nervously while stealing glances at the cup where you two shared your indirect kiss.
huh. you thought to yourself. maybe, just maybe, you weren't misinterpreting, after all.
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tartigglez · 11 months
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"would you?" pt.1
zhongli x f!reader
・❥・smut with plot, mostly
・❥・1.8k
・❥・16+ light yandere!zhongli, reader is called princess, light brat taming, reader gets picked up, hickeys, aftercare, reader turned adpetus i guess, they get engaged lol, reader gets sick at one point, flashbacks in orange, cliffhanger bc pt.2 will come soon.
・❥・hi folks! new theme, things are gonna be a lot tidier around here from now on, and hopefully a little more serious, i'll be making a new blog for shitposting methinks, enjoy the fic! (ps. sorry celeste, i love you really <3)
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rex lapis was not allowed to fall in love with mortals. the laws of the land, of celestia itself, forbade it. but then again, who has ever had the courage to tell the rex lapis that he couldn’t do something? when he has the ability to end them right then and there, who would ever say no to him? 
the prime of adepti has, of course, never once doubted his capability to share his power and transform a mortal into an adeptus, but this wouldn’t be right, it wouldn't be proper, now would it?
would it?
if the power of love had blinded even the very strongest of the archons, how could there possibly be any hope for anyone else?
and so, these circumstances resulted in rex lapis, the god of contracts, doing what he does best, writing up a contract. a contract which was not really a contract, one which he knew didn’t have any real value, because it didn’t matter if you signed it or not, he was still going to carry out his end of the bargain. he would change the form of your body, because he knew that he never wanted to let you go. he wanted to become one with you, to merge with you. he never wanted you to leave…
it started with the basics, sharing his power, his authority. he had to consider how to alter your very being, to change you. then it came to him, he needed to ask you something important, something so crucial to his plan that it couldn’t be avoided, something he had wanted to ask you ever since the moment you both met, but he knew he had to restrict himself, to hold himself back. archons, he was so done with holding himself back.
it was on a late night stroll in liyue harbour when he asked you, when he took your hand in his, when he pulled out a small box from his jacket, and dropped down, on to one knee…
was he seriously doing this? was this actually happening? you never would’ve expected it to be right now but…
“darling, will you marry me…?”
you suddenly felt… lightheaded. not because you wanted to say no, simply because you loved him so much, and he was finally ready for the contract.
“y-yes… yes! i will! i will!”
after giving you a gentle kiss on the back of your hand and putting the ring onto your finger, he stood up from his kneeling position. he then grabbed you by the waist, pressed your lips together, and kissed you, to seal your promise to each other. 
his plan was finally in action.
when the pair of you finally got home from your walk, the first thing you did was pin him against the front door, pressing your lips upon his, so desperate for his attention, despite the fact that you already knew he rarely ever paid any to things that weren’t you. he gripped your wrists and rapidly pulled them together in order to wrap one of his hands around them, flipping you over and trapping you against the door, and you quickly realised how this was going to go.
“already in need, princess? how lovely” gosh he was a tease. for someone who was normally so reserved and calm, he certainly changed his tune when he wanted you, when he needed you.
you could feel your cheeks heating up when having to admit to your longing for him, “jus’ want you,”
“well i’m right here, aren't i?” the mock fell straight from his lips, dark, lustful, needy.
he tilted his head to the side, closing the gap between you both to breathe hot air near your lips, slowly moving closer, and closer, and closer, until your lips met his, gently locking together as he kissed you. at first he was soft, longing, simply showing his love for you. but, of course, it mustn't be forgotten that zhongli, rather, rex lapis, will always have dragonic instincts, and of course they were going to take over…
still pinned against the door, he became more harsh and needy in his kiss, leaning into you, as you began to feel his fangs brush against your tongue. upon letting go of your hands, he gripped onto your waist with one hand, staring you in the eyes, serious, but loving.
“is this okay, my love?”
“more than okay, ‘li” 
“good.”
he quickly viced his lips on your neck, moving his large, veiny hands down your body slowly, listening for your pretty little breaths, until one reached your thigh, the other resting on your ass. he quickly picked you up, moving your legs to encircle his waist, still kissing and biting your neck rapidly, never staying in one place for more than a few seconds. as you wrapped your arms around his neck, sweetly playing with the little curl that sits at the back of his neck, he began manoeuvring you, slowly walking up the stairs to your bedroom.
fuck, it was going to be a long night…
the first thing you felt as you woke up was zhongli’s hands -now larger than usual, having large black and gold talons at the end- carding through the hair on one side of your head, gently massaging your scalp. you were both completely naked, the warm, soft skin of his chest against your cheek as you rested your head upon him. you moved slightly, feeling the sweaty, sticky air between the two of you. truly, whilst zhongli was normally a kind and caring lover, who only ever wanted to make you feel good, this would sometimes prove to be at your own expense later. you were exhausted, and in pain, not horribly, but it was undoubtedly noticeable.
“darling, you're awake” his dark, mahogany voice echoed through your ears, reminding you of the sweet, yet vicious praises it whispered against your neck the night before. 
“are you okay?” this time, his tone had changed. he was nothing but sweet, loving, kind. he seemed genuinely worried about you. he always was, after things like this happened between the two of you. he was always so frightened that he would hurt your soft, frail mortal body. he was afraid that he would inflict pain on you when being caught up in the moment.
“i’m okay, just… sore”
you moved slightly, attempting to roll off him, and onto your back upon the mattress. however, this failed, the aching in your muscles taking over as you collapsed back on to him, feeling a sticky fluid near your crotch, and starting to recall the events of last night…
“c’mon pretty girl, you can take it. just one more, hm? just one more. you can do that for me princess, can’t you?” he was thrusting into you at insane, unnatural speeds, hitting the very deepest points inside, teasing you with his words, but giving you everything with his body.. 
you gently mewled into his shoulder, trying desperately to take his cock, but it was so much, so, so, much. “i can take it ‘li, have to take it fo-” 
“i told you, that’s not my name, princess. behave.”
“m’sorry, m-morax. so s-sorry”
just hearing the whisper of the name he had only been called so many moons ago coming from you was enough to send him over the edge, enough to send him spiralling, enough for him to spill globs of sweet, sticky cu-
“should i run you a bath sweetheart? perhaps it would help relieve some of the aching, hm?” his gentle voice interrupted your train of thought, as the pads of his fingers drifted ever so lightly over your back, providing comfort and warmth.
“yeah, yeah that’d be nice, ‘li,” you softened your voice as he gently pulled the duvet off the two of you, sitting up slowly, and helping you move your form off his body, softly placing you on the mattress. you pulled the duvet up over you again, as he made his way to the chest of drawers next to your bed, grabbing a pair of boxer briefs, and putting them on, despite the fact that he was still covered in both your release, and his own.
“i’ll be back soon, darling,” 
placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, he left the room, making his way to the bathroom. the acoustics there echoed the sound of water running out of the baths tap, as well as zhongli… lighting candles? he wanted everything to be perfect for you, because although his immediate primal instinct was to mate, the one that came right after was to look after you. 
in all truth, he knew that you enjoyed this, of course he did, but there was some part of him that would always feel a pang of culpability deep within his chest. like a warning to himself. he was going to hurt you if he didn’t change you, so changing you was what he had to do…
it happened on an afternoon a few weeks later. zhongli was taking care of you, because you were sick. nothing serious, just a cold, but knowing him, you would be in bed for a week. under normal circumstances he was protective over you, so when you were ill, this was of course going to be extremely amplified.
it would be a lie if zhongli said he understood mortal sickness, but he tried his hardest to, and knew that rest would help. still, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for you, sick and weak. he also couldn’t help but feel that now would be an appropriate time to ask you the question hes been intending to for a very, very long time.
“my darling,” he seated himself on the bed next to you, allowing you to drop your head onto his shoulder, still sniffling, nose red from the silk handkerchiefs he insisted you use, as opposed to tissues, which would be rougher. “i have something to ask you, and i’m not sure how you’ll react,”
“what’s up ‘li?” you move to sit up straight, crossing your legs and looking him in the eye.
“i’ve been thinking…” he trailed off. zhongli only ever trails off when he doesn’t know how to phrase something, when he’s afraid he’s going to say something wrong.
“what is it? y’know nothing you say can ever affect me that badly, right? i mean, i’m literally engaged to an archo-”
“what if i turned you into an adeptus?”
“w-what?”
“what if i could make you stay with me, by my side forever…? would you do it?”
would you?
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© tartigglez, 2023. do not copy, translate or repost
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trulybetty · 7 months
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oct x 11 - pumpkin spice
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Prompt: pumpkin spice Pairing: marcus pike x f!Reader Word Count: 3,366 Warnings: this is somewhat au? I don't know how to describe it - but honestly, outside the mentions of food, just introductions to our characters 💕 Summary: maplewood, a small town nestled in northern bc where people flock to see the changing blossom trees and celebrate the fall season. after losing your job you find yourself a part of the community which includes the towns baker who left a less than stellar impression on you. AO3: Linked
A/N: this is a departure for me, this is going to be all sickly sweet and sticky sweetness - made a teeny tiny dash of angst? This will be told in three parts through the month, no promise on when the next part will be posted - but keep an eye out. Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear it!
x. masterlist
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Something Sweet, This Way Comes Part I | Pumpkin Spice
Maplewood was a small town nestled deep in the heart of British Columbia Canada, the crisp autumn air brought a sense of enchantment. The maple leaves painted the streets with vibrant shades of red and orange, and the town buzzed with anticipation for Halloween.
At the hub of it all was Maple Delights, a mainstay of the small town that had changed owners only three years ago. Before that Marcus Pike had left the FBI’s art division on the heels of lost love and disillusions for the career he once loved. Everyone always assumed he was a dab hand with creative pursuits when he would tell them he worked in the bureaus art department. And while he had studied art at college, it had been in art history. Truth was he couldn’t paint anything worth posting further than the front of the fridge, but baking on the other hand, was a hidden talent he’d always exceeded in.
So when a late night social media scroll after handing in his notice brought him to an article on the small town of Maplewood being a hidden gem in the Northern Canadian mountains. Over the following days he’d drifted back to the article several times before a Google search brought him to the small town’s website.
Then it wasn’t too much of a stretch to click on the link for the modest page of properties both for sale and rent, curiosity baiting him, only to find the town’s historic bakery up for sale.
Dashing any thoughts out of his head he’d closed his laptop with a shake of his head, it was an absurd idea. He was an early retiree of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, he had no business entertaining the idea of purchasing a bakery, let alone one in seemingly the middle of nowhere Canada.
But between the calls from friends and family checking in on him with the news of his departure from the job he once dearly loved and the end of the whirlwind romance that he’d thought was the one, he found himself late each night scrolling mindlessly, glass of wine in one hand, phone in the other, back looking at the town of Maplewood.
He did have a sizable nest egg, he owned his apartment which was now in what was considered a trendy part of town and worth a lot more than when he first purchased it.
He wasn’t entirely sure what possessed him two nights later to email the town's realtor, but within the month he was the proud owner of Maple Delights and all its contents and was packing up the contents of his modest apartment and heading north.
The previous owner had passed, with adult grandchildren who lived far away in various places across the country, and who had no interest in a historic bakery in the middle of nowhere; it had been left with no choice to go up for sale by the estate.
It had taken some modernization, not so easy a feat in the far north of BC where the local hardware store was a mom and pops situation and the nearest Home Depot was three hours away, but Marcus had made it work with help from a local contractor who’d enjoyed the challenge.
The facade had undergone a drastic change too, much to the chagrin of some locals. But when it was revealed to be a homage to its original exterior, when it was first opened, there had been actual tears at the results.
The front of the store was made up of a large window and wooden framing. In cursive the bakeries name was painted across the glass. At the front were planters at the wooden windowsill, filled with roses of various shades of pinks and whites. The climbing ivy had been stripped away to allow the brick underneath to stand out, making the white frames pop all the more.
It truly was a delight to see.
Surprisingly it didn’t take long after that for Marcus to win over the town. With his natural ability for baking and his charm, he won over any naysayers to the outsider in their town quite quickly and was soon a beloved member of the community.
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Your journey to Maplewood however, was nearly not as charming.
It was a gloomy Tuesday morning when you received the email that would change the course of your life. As you sipped your coffee and stared at the screen, disbelief washed over you. The subject line was blunt and to the point: ‘Termination of Employment.’
You opened the email and read the cold, corporate language that informed you of the company's decision to downsize. Your position had been eliminated, effective immediately. There was no room for negotiation, no farewell party, just a stark message informing you that your services were no longer required.
You had worked at the job for who knows how long, because it felt like forever.
In the days that followed, you wrestled with the uncertainty of your future. You tried reaching out to your network, searching for new job opportunities in Toronto, but the job market was tough, and the competition was fierce. The bills kept piling up, and you felt the weight of financial insecurity pressing down on you.
It was one of those nights where you were texting with your friend Libby, a long time resident of Maplewood after she gave up the rat race to open a bookstore in the small town years ago. That she extended an offer that was too sweet to refuse. End your rental agreement and come up north and spend some time in the great outdoors and figure out what you want to do next.
With no other choices coming your way, you did just that.
That was three months ago.
As the days passed, you found yourself slowly adjusting to the laid-back lifestyle of Maplewood. Gone were the stresses of city life and the constant pressure to perform at your job. Instead, you spent your mornings sipping coffee in Libby's apartment above the bookstore and spent the rest of your day either helping out in the store or taking a stroll around town to take in all the unique sights that Maplewood had to offer.
Black Cat Books was wall to ceiling bookshelves and every manageable space was filled with books. It was a labyrinth, but Libby could stride through it like she was born into its midst. But ask Libby where any particular title resided? You'd find that she knew exactly how many steps it took to get there.  
Libby placed another book on the shelf behind her, “He’s really not all that bad.”
You sneered, “I don’t know why this whole town is obsessed with him.”
“Says the woman who is watching him from across the street and has been for the last hour.” Libby remarked, punctuated by a disbelieving look over the top of her glasses.
“I can’t help if the bakery is straight across the street,” she raised an equally disbelieving eyebrow at you, she didn't believe a word you were saying “and it’s his bakery, of course he’d be there.” you finished, crossing your arms across your chest refusing to make eye contact.
“Sure,” she dragged out her response, “whatever you say.”
You had been in Maplewood for a week when you'd run into Marcus, quite literally run into him. Crossing the main square, you may not have been paying attention, focusing on refreshing your email for leads on work as he had been stepping up onto the sidewalk, his arms full of bakery boxes obscuring his view.
“Watch where you're going much?!” You'd exclaimed, hands on your hips and glaring at him.
He'd looked up from the ground, his hands filled with ruined boxes, eyes narrowed. “Me? How could you miss me?”
“Well if you had been watching where you were going.” You countered.
He was about to launch into another tirade when he glanced at his watch. Stifling a curse he ran a hand through his hair before speaking, his voice low and gruff. “I haven't got time for this.”
With that he quickly gathered the last of the boxes and stomped off in the direction of the bakery. Your first encounter with the town's beloved baker had left nothing but a sour taste in your mouth.
Since then, you'd avoided any and all interactions with the man and fought rolling your eyes when people would speak so highly of the American who had made Maplewood his home. After all, he was the one responsible for bringing more business to Maplewood through word-of-mouth of his creations.
“Look,” Libby pointed at the sandwich board propped outside the shop, “today’s special is pumpkin spice scones, how about you go get us some and a couple of coffees?” she suggested as she pulled some money from her purse she kept under the counter.
You rolled your eyes but still took the money, guy was questionable, but his scones were to die for. Not that you would admit it to anyone.
A quick look both ways you dashed across the street. It was the start of October, a busy month for the town. Tourists would flock in to see the changing colours of the cherry blossom trees that lined both sides of the main street that led up to the town's main square outside city hall.
The weather was getting colder, and even though it was literally steps from Black Cat Books, you'd wished you'd grabbed your toque and scarf. But before you could think more about it you were outside the bakery.
The window took up most of the front of the store, vintage lettering spelling out the bakery's name Maple Delights painted across the pane. The roses that usually filled the planter boxes outside were filled with an abundance of pumpkins of various colours and sizes. Halloween decorations filled the spaces between cake stands and trays of seasonal goods punctuated by decadent cakes decorated with tiny ghosts and ghouls.
The shop bell rang as you opened the door, the bakery was cozy and inviting with its high ceilings and hardwood floors. The smell of freshly baked bread and sugar, mingled with the spiciness of cinnamon and pumpkin spice – classic scents of fall that permeated the air making your mouth water.
A bright eyed Sarah, with a book open in front of her behind the counter called out your name, “Hey there! What can I get for you today?”
You smiled and made your way to the counter eyeing the vintage blackboard that took up most of the wall behind it. The chalk sketch confirmed that today's special was pumpkin scones, “I'll take two pumpkin spice scones and two lattes, extra hot please.”
Sarah nodded as she began preparing the order. She had been working at the bakery after school and the weekends since she turned sixteen at the start of the summer. You knew this because she got paid every Friday and would dart straight across to Black Cat Books to pick a new book bringing with her treats from the bakery.
“You should try the apple cider doughnuts!” she exclaimed as she boxed up two large scones.
“That so?” You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her recommendation.
“Uh huh,” Sarah replied with a grin, “Marcus dipped them in a cinnamon maple glaze this time,” she added with a little groan of appreciation, “they're so good, and there's only just a few left.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously as if she were tempting you.
You couldn't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. “Well, with that kind of endorsement, why not. Throw a couple in too.”
As you waited for your order and made small talk with Sarah, you took a moment to look around the store. It was late afternoon, and the warm, soft glow of the autumn sun streamed through the window, casting a gentle light on the displays. The shelves, while not as full as they might be in the morning, still held an array of intricate desserts. More decorations of fake cobwebs, pumpkins, and ghosts adorned the shelves and countertops, adding to the bakery's seasonal charm.
In the background, the back of the bakery was open to the kitchen out back. The stainless steel counters gleamed in the soft light, and the usual cacophony of mixers that lined the back wall was silent for the moment. It was a rare sight, given the bakery's reputation for bustling activity, especially in the weeks leading up to Halloween.
Just then, a door swung open at the back, and Marcus emerged, his presence commanding attention. He was dressed in a deep orange flannel shirt, which seemed to accentuate the rich colors of the fall season. His tousled curled hair always gave the impression that he had just woken up from a nap, yet it added an effortlessly charming quality to his appearance. His patchy facial hair, seemingly ever-present, only added to his rugged charm.
You couldn't help but curse silently under your breath. Despite having no time for the man, there was no denying he was just as attractive as the sweet treats he created. It seemed as though every time you crossed paths, he had a knack for appearing more alluring.
“Hey Sarah,” he greeted the teen, “I can finish this up for you, I don't want you to miss the committee meeting for the trick or treat parade.” he said, referencing the penultimate celebration of the town's October celebrations.
Sarah's face lit up as she started to untie her apron, “Thanks, Marcus. You're a lifesaver.”
As Marcus took over your order, Sarah excused herself, heading towards the exit. Her parting words were aimed at both you and Marcus. “See you later!”
With Sarah's departure, an awkward silence settled between you and Marcus. The air seemed to crackle with the unspoken tension that had been building for weeks.
“Looks like you're stuck with me for a while,” Marcus remarked, breaking the silence with a wry smile. His tone was light, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, an undercurrent of amusement at the situation.
You nodded in reluctant agreement, realizing that there was no escape from this moment. “Seems that way,” you replied.
Marcus busied himself with finishing up your order, his hands deftly manoeuvring around cups and saucers. He poured the lattes into to-go cups before adding the last dollop of whipped cream to a pumpkin spice latte. The warm, spicy scent filled the air, mixing with the sweet aroma of freshly baked goods.
As he reached out to pass you the tray of drinks and the bag filled with baked treats, your hands brushed against each other. Time seemed to slow, the atmosphere tingling with a spark that neither of you had felt before. It was a fleeting touch, but it was enough to send a shiver down your spine, making you suddenly aware of the space between you.
Marcus cleared his throat. “I, uh, put a cranberry muffin in there. For Libby. I know they're her favourite.”
You blinked, a little thrown off by the unexpected kindness. “That's very thoughtful of you.” You reached for your purse, ready to pay for the order, “How much is it?” you asked, but Marcus waved you off.
Marcus shook his head, grinning slightly. “It's on the house. Consider it a thank-you to Libby for watching the store the other week.”
“Thank you,” you finally said, struggling to find the right words. “That's... that's very kind of you.”
Marcus shrugged, his gaze meeting yours for just a second longer than necessary. “It's what neighbours do, right?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “I suppose it is.”
The bell above the door jingled, breaking the moment as more customers entered the bakery, kids trailing behind their parents, all excited for Halloween goodies. You picked up the tray and bag, suddenly aware that you had to leave, but not quite ready to break the newfound connection.
“I'll see you around?” Marcus asked, with maybe a note of hopeful uncertainty in his voice, you weren’t sure.
You smiled despite yourself, “Maybe,” you replied as you raised your now full hands in an attempt at a wave.
Marcus was about to answer when the bakery's new patrons diverted his attention and you took the opportunity to leave, your head suddenly full of conflicting feelings for the man.
Exiting out onto the street, you couldn't help but inhale deeply, letting the crisp, early October air fill your lungs in hope it would clear your head. The town's signature cherry blossom trees that lined each side of the street had traded their springtime pinks for shades of orange and yellow, a change of costume in tune with the season.
Libby looked up from the book she was reading when you stepped back into the store, “You were longer than I expected.”
You felt an unexpected heat spread up your chest to your cheeks, “Sarah was working,” you quickly threw out, “she was telling me about the book she got last week.”
Libby accepted the coffees and paper bag so you could shrug off your coat, “Ooo, cranberry muffin! My favourite!”
“Yeah, Marcus threw it in there for you.”
“So you spoke to Marcus?” she asked, an eyebrow raised in curiosity, an unmissable smirk on her face.
You narrowed your eyes in response, “Briefly.”
Libby took a bite of her scone, the noises she made boarded on the line of scandalous, “God, this is good.”
“Should I leave you and your scone alone?”
Libby grinned, crumbs of scone still clinging to the corners of her mouth. “If you leave me now, I'll name my first-born after this scone. It'll have a weird life, but at least it'll be delicious.”
You chuckled at her melodrama as you took your coffee out of its tray.
Libby grinned, “I swear to god, if I was remotely interested in men I'd be climbing him like a tree. Heck, I might just do it for the baked goods.”
You rolled your eyes, “Easy there tiger.”
“I really don't know how he's single, three years in this town and it's not like the women haven't been throwing themselves at him.”
“Well, maybe he is really too good to be true.” You countered, taking up your apparently one woman stance of your dislike of the man again as you took a sip of your coffee - biting your lip at your own groan at how a simple latte could taste so good.
Libby chuckled, “Or maybe you're too stubborn to see what's right in front of you.”
You sighed, unwilling to admit, even to Libby, that your stance on Marcus might be softening just a touch. “Let's agree to disagree, shall we?”
“Fine, fine,” Libby conceded, taking another heavenly bite of her scone. “But one day you'll see. Good things, and good people, might just come in unexpected packages.”
Your phone buzzed with a notification about a new job posting in Toronto. You glanced at it, suddenly feeling less of that earlier urgency to return to the hustle and bustle of city life. The idea of stepping back into the rat race seemed so detached from where you were now—surrounded by the rustic charm of Maplewood and its genuine, warm-hearted inhabitants.
You took another sip of your latte and stole one last look through the bookstore's window, back towards the bakery. Marcus was crouching down to hand a sugar cookie shaped like a pumpkin to one of the small kids in the bakery. The child's face lit up with joy, a mirror of the light that seemed to emanate from Marcus himself.
Maybe Libby had a point. Maybe good things did come in unexpected packages.
You put your phone down, screen facing the table, and looked back at Libby, who was now back engrossed in her book. But your thoughts weren't on job postings or the life you had in Toronto. They were here, on this little corner of Maplewood.
For the first time, in a long time, you weren’t thinking of ways to run back to your old life.
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eoieopda · 1 year
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Hello lovely lady :) I’m here to pretty please request a JK drabble because I miss him terribly and if you have the time because I very much am in love with your writing 🥹🥹 Tattoo artist JK who gets a crazy stupid adult crush on a customer who comes to him to do a very meaningful tattoo for her and they spend all night eating and talking afterwards and it’s all giggly and cute because he will find any reason to touch her 😭😭 and now I’m going to jump off a cliff bc I miss him so much LOL
sorry for the wait, sweet bean!
cw: mention of needles, general reference to trauma (not described); description of a bad tattoo i've seen in real life; reader gets one of my actual tattoos because fuck it, we ball.
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Jeon Jungkook considered himself an artist. This wasn't based on his literal job title, but on the immeasurable time and effort he spent studying, practicing, and working as an apprentice. On the sheer number of oranges that went off to rot in dumpsters with shakily tattooed skin.
For years, he placed permanent art on the bodies of strangers for tips only — if clients bothered with the courtesy, that is. Little designs off the flash sheet, last-minute friendship tattoos for university students who'd fall out of touch upon graduating. It was grueling work, but it was worth it.
When he finished his apprenticeship and was promoted to resident artist, Jungkook figured that he'd spend his days seriously — on serious shit that took hours to design and even longer to translate onto a living, breathing, squirming canvas. That was the hope, anyway.
In reality, Jungkook had spent the entirety of his day doing unspeakably stupid shit. He'd just finished tattooing "Seoul" in hiragana for a tourist who didn't seem to know which side of the Strait he was on — and then you walked in.
You shouldn't have been the only person he'd seen all day that already had tattoos, but you were. You clearly knew how this was supposed to go; and Jungkook almost started floating when the crushing weight of his exasperation finally fell off his shoulders.
Finally.
He didn't mean to audibly sigh with relief when you stepped up to the counter. He did, though, and he was well past the point of giving a shit if that should have embarrassed him.
"Rough day?" You tilted your head to the side when you asked and you looked genuinely concerned, even with that tiny, sideways smile.
Jungkook was torn. Yours was a face worth staring at, but the gallery spreading over both of your exposed arms was one he wanted to get lost in. He knew more than anyone how fucking it weird it was when strangers gave themselves permission to run their hands over his skin — but he might finally understand the urge.
Swallowing down that intrusive desire, Jungkook gripped his Red Bull can even tighter in his left hand — twenty ounces, reserved exclusively for the most severe instances of brain rot — and balled his right hand into a fist. He rapped his knuckles against the countertop and shot you a grin, "Nah, it's golden."
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Jungkook had been right about two things. The first was that you weren't a fainter, a flincher, or a cry-baby.
If he hadn't stolen so many glances at you throughout the session; and if your quiet laughter wasn't the pacemaker preventing his swooning heart from stopping; he might've thought that you were meditating. Sleeping, even, or hit with a freeze ray. You were still, entirely unfazed like you weren't being stabbed thousands of times per second with a bouquet of needles.
Jungkook was also dead-on that this day, despite its frustrating start, was golden. Better yet, it didn't end when your session did. When he'd blurted out an invitation to dinner, you said yes.
Sitting down across the table from him with your forearm dutifully covered in cling-wrap, you shot him an adorably sheepish smile. "Could you, um —?" You gestured to the perilla leaves on your plate with the chopsticks in your non-dominant hand. "I'm not as dexterous as I was two hours ago."
"I'm on it, boss."
He didn't have time to cringe over that statement or the wink that accompanied it because your knuckles brushed his when you slid your plate to him and — Are you a child? Why are you blushing? For fuck's sake, get a grip, Jeon.
You sipped your beer as you watched him; and it had Jungkook fumbling as if he was using chopsticks for the first time in his life and not the thousandth. Thankfully, instead of laughing at him, you asked, "So, what's the dumbest tattoo you've had to do for someone?"
"Cartoon corn-on-the-cob," Jungkook responded without hesitation. The memory was burned into his brain, a tattoo in its own right. "But that alone isn't the worst part, and neither is the fact that its face looked like it was moaning with a pat of butter sliding down its front."
You groaned, but you were grinning, "Jesus. Do I even want to know the worst part?"
"Butter me up, daddy."
Automatically, you raised your freshly-tattooed arm and slapped your hand over your mouth to keep your drink inside it. You winced at the sting on your skin and, no doubt, the burn in your chest as you coughed, "Come again?"
Jungkook slid your plate back over to you with pursed lips. Then, he took a deep breath. "That was the script they wanted to go with it," He sighed, "I spent a decade of my life on my craft and that is what I do with it."
"I'm sure the linework on the horny corn was beautiful, though." Your eyes sparkled when your tone softened. The sight of you stopped him from laughing at the words you chose.
He gestured down to the vintage floor lamp he'd etched in fine black ink on your forearm. "Looks better when the person I'm tattooing sits still," He smiled, "And you can correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you put thought into that, rather than thirst. Otherwise, I will have follow-up questions about whatever kink that might be."
Ugh, that giggle.
"Have you heard of ghost lights before?" You asked between bites of your kimchi.
When Jungkook shook his head, you cleared your throat to explain. "When you close up a theater after a show, you have to put a lamp on the stage. It's primarily a safety thing — keeps people from falling over set pieces or into the orchestra pit — but it helps out with ghosts, too."
Jungkook shifted in his chair and leaned in a little closer to more clearly hear what came next. He was riveted, and there was no hiding it.
"There are a couple of different superstitions about why it's done, but the one I grew up with was that it keeps ghosts from messing with your props and technical equipment while you're gone."
You quieted before you tacked on the amendment, corner of your mouth momentarily twitching up into a sad smile, "Figured this tattoo might help me ward off some of my own."
Your hand was close enough to his on the table that he could've pretended it was an accident. He didn't, though. The microscopic movement until his little finger touched yours was intentional; and he wanted you to know it.
Not daring to move that hand away, Jungkook grabbed his drink with the other and raised it. He waited for you to raise yours, too, before cheering, "To ghosts that mind their own fucking business!"
394 notes · View notes
aonungsmate · 1 year
Text
Save your tears for me
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Neteyam x Omatikaya!Reader [Word count: 0.7k]
an idea struck when this song randomly played �� Read, listen and find out! Also heavily apologizing in advance bc well, it's me writing wygd
Warnings: spoilers, mentions of death, implied smut, characters are aged up!
"Remember, you only cry for when you are glad okay?"
You remember Neteyam's words as you first watched the eclipse with him. The pink hues falling around the surroundings, his arms gently wrapping around your figure as you cried at him asking to be his mate.
And so you did.
You cried for when the two of you performed tsaheylu with each other, your braids coming together as one, sharing countless kisses that night in his embrace, under the watch of the ever darkening skies and the brightest stars.
The two of you were alone, and alone you were.
"But this is our home! I cannot ask this of her, dad!" Neteyam shook his head at his father's words, licking his lips in frustration. His youngest sister was tearing up outside the tent, in the comfort of Kiri's arms around her, both of them mourning over the fact that they were leaving the forest to hide.
"We've got no choice, yeah? Believe me son, I have thought of everything," Jake sighed, followed by a hard grip on his son's shoulders, "You gotta bear with me Neteyam, it's either we leave her here, or she comes with us."
And so you did.
You would do anything for Neteyam, so you bid farewell to the home that you've known since birth. Your mate was more than anything in the world to you. He was your light. You cannot imagine life without him, so you decided that it was this, or the most sorrowful life without your mate to wrap his arms around you.
You did your best, eventually adjusting to your new life, befriending the chief's daughter whom you caught casting a pining look on Lo'ak whenever his eyes would trail somewhere else. You would giggle and nudge your friend, followed by a chuckle and an eye roll from Kiri. Then Neteyam would snicker with you, the back of his hand caressing your cheeks that never failed to make you feel putty on the ground.
"Yawne, you make me feel so happy" He groaned as your whimpers reached his ears, your tail softly thumping on the ground as he pressed kisses after kisses on your neck, your arms wrapped around his back, trying so hard to ground yourself, afraid that you would fall deeper than you have.
You sang his name like the people would to Eywa's name. You feel as if the stars have decided to reside in your stomach at how good you felt as he moved his hips against yours, feeling him inside you, feeling so much more than you can handle. You gasped, arching your back when he rutted harder, pouring out his feelings in one go, a breathy gasp of your name coming out from his lips.
"Ne-Neteyam—!" You cried, tears beginning to flow at how much you loved your mate, the marui's flooring dragging across your back, the overstimulation taking over your mind as he pressed gentle kisses on your forehead, the back of his hand wiping your tears away, a soft smile on his face that mirrored yours.
"Sounds like you were more than glad, yawntu," he chuckled, making you swat his arm in annoyance.
Oh how you wished things would always be like this.
"Why, Eywa? Why?!"
You were confused. Terrified. Lost. The orange skies reflected off your beloved's eyes as you begged, "Neteyam don't do this to me, please !"
"Oh, my son! No, great mother! NO!"
"I-I want to go home"
You couldn't describe what you were feeling. What you were seeing. And like the most feeble vine in the forest, the string of ache and longing snapped inside of you.
Today the two of you broke your promises to each other. Promises of the future, no longer would you be held by him. No longer will you be spending the majority of the time gawking at his navy blue skin, counting the stars embedded on his back.
"Remember, you only cry for when you are glad okay?"
He mumbled, reminding you of your promise as you pressed the most gentle kiss on his hand as he cradled your face, wet from all the tears you have shed.
Like him, you don't know where you would go after this. Was it true that going to the great mother was like going home?
For some reason, Neteyam thought of the opposite.
After all, home was when he was with you, and home was him.
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127tyong · 1 year
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Tangerine Love
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Pairing: Haechan X Reader
Genre: Smut, Angst, FWB AU
Warnings: (in order of most to least triggering, bc there's a lot) SA (on reader), CNC, emotional abuse and exploitation, manipulation, gaslighting
Word Count: 2.0k
"I hate the summer, because it reminds me of you. The heat is overbearing, just like you. Too hot, too sticky, and too much all at once."
Part 2 of 4: Summer- Tangerine Love
"I hate the summer, because it reminds me of you. The heat is overbearing, just like you. Too hot, too sticky, and too much all at once."
The orange melted popsicle ran down your fingers, sticking on everything in its path.
You were sitting outside Haechan's house, feet in the pool, Haechan getting out of the pool to get you a towel.
You and Haechan had a bit of history, but it ended with you two casually hooking up and maintaining a good friendship. Of course, you never asked him to be more than just friends with benefits, but you knew he wasn't into dating.
"God, you're such a mess." Haechan handed you the towel. "Why do you eat popsicles when you know you never finish them before they melt?"
"They're yummy." You shrugged. 
"Just… throw it away at this point. Go to the bathroom." Haechan cringed, stepping back into the pool.
You went to rinse your hands in the bathroom, noticing your face was sticky, and the line of melted sugar rolled down to your breasts, under your white bikini.
"Haechan!" You yelled, walking back out to the back patio. "I swear to God, if that popsicle ruins my bikini!"
"What are you even talking about?" Haechan jumped out of the pool, sitting on the edge, tanned abs soaking wet.
"Look!" You showed him your breasts. 
"As much as I like looking at you…" You groaned. "That was not my fault."
"My bikini…" You whined.
"Just get in the pool." Haechan slid back into the pool. 
You followed him, wrapping your arms around his neck so he could hold you.
"See? It's coming out." Haechan's hand slid under your bikini, feeling the fabric. "You're such a cry baby."
You kissed his cheek. "Sorry…"
"Yeah, of course you are." Haechan pulled at the single-knotted string on your back, then the one around your neck, your bikini falling off and floating into the water. "Now there's nothing to worry about."
"Haechan, I'm not sure…"
"Sh, sh, sh…" Haechan pulled at the knots on your hips, bottoms falling off as well. "Be quiet, you wouldn't want anyone to hear me fucking you, right?"
"But I-"
Haechan's hand slapped over your mouth. "I wasn't asking, I was telling you."
You nodded. 
"Good." Haechan bent you over the edge of the pool, the stone hot against your chest and stomach. 
You bit your lip to keep yourself from screaming as Haechan slid his cock inside you all at once.
"God, I should've fucked you in the pool all summer…" Haechan bottomed out, his thick cock hurting you more from being in the water.
"Hurts…" You cried out, tears pooling in your eyes.
"Just a bit more, I promise." Haechan was moaning your name into your ear, guttural groans stopping you from shoving him away. His hand wrapped around your neck, choking you as he fucked you.
And then you realized something. He didn't even love you. All the nights you laid in his bed, full of his cum, dizzy from his cock… They didn't even mean anything to him. You couldn't even leave him because you were so invested in this relationship…
You zoned out, letting Haechan cum inside you then pushing him away. "I'm gonna go home." You grabbed your bikini and went into his house, changing back into your clothes.
Haechan followed you. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I'm just tired." You scoffed.
"Was it something I did?" Haechan grabbed your wrist, stopping you.
You sighed, crossing your arms. "Haechan…"
"I'm sorry." Haechan hugged you. "I'm so, so sorry… I thought you liked it."
"No, that's not it, I just have to… think." You shook your head.
"About what?" Haechan let go of you.
"About… us? Me? I don't know…" You whined, stepping back from Haechan.
"You can't… you can't leave me." Haechan grabbed your arm. "Listen, I won't let you leave."
You went to unlock the front door, but Haechan's arms wrapped around your waist. 
"Don't leave me." You felt tears on your neck.
You sighed, pulling away from him for just a second to face him. "Haechan." You wrapped an arm around his neck. "Why don't we date?"
"Date? Like seriously?" Haechan's arm dropped off your waist, his tears stopping.
"Why can't we be official? We go out all the time, we fuck, I mean, I thought you love me… Why can't we be exclusive?"
"I, uh…" Haechan backed up. "I'm not sure."
"I'm leaving then." You started to walk out of Haechan's house.
"No, wait!" Haechan grabbed your arm. "Is that all you want?"
You shook your head. "Has the thought of us dating never even entered your mind? What the fuck are we even doing, then?"
"I can't stand to see you with another man, but I don't think I'm right for you… I don't want to hurt you."
"What are you even talking about?" You scoffed. "I'm leaving."
"No, you're not." Haechan grabbed your wrist.
You suddenly remembered the fact that you've never really made Haechan mad. He's always taken his anger out on you another way… You knew him well. All the times he's pinned you down or choked you came to mind. He would never intentionally hurt you, but there was a nagging voice in your head that told you to stay away.
"Stop." It was like he read your mind. "If only you knew what I wanted to do to you…" 
"Please, let's just talk-" Haechan's lips crashed onto yours after a split second, his hands tangled into your hair. You realized what you had to do to calm him down. You kissed him back, fumbling with his pants button, letting them fall off. Breaking away from the kiss, you slid onto your knees, his cock in your hand, lips wet with Haechan's saliva.
"You're such a good girl…" Haechan cooed as your lips reached the tip of his cock, then down your throat.
A loud gagging noise came from your throat as Haechan grabbed your head and shoved his cock deeper into you, deeper and harder than he ever did before.
"You shouldn't make me mad anymore." Haechan continued, speaking to you in a baby voice, faking his pity. "I wouldn't do this to you if you would just do what I want to begin with… I wouldn't have to hurt you."
After a few more hard thrusts into your mouth, you were released with a hot liquid pouring down your throat, followed by Haechan zipping his pants back up.
"There's my good girl." Haechan wiped your tears as you stood up.
You felt drained, your head falling onto Haechan's shoulder. "Can I sleep here?"
~
You woke up with Haechan's arm around your waist, Haechan waking up as you moved. 
"Good morning." You always loved his husky voice when he woke up.
"Morning." You groggily wiped your eyes, shifting to face Haechan, pressing your face into his chest.
"You want breakfast?" Haechan started playing with your hair.
You shook your head. "No… I just want to stay here a bit."
He kissed your forehead. "You know I love you, right?"
"Then why won't you-"
"I can't." Haechan sat up, getting out of bed.
"But… you love me." You shifted, standing next to Haechan.
"I will never marry you." 
His words cut through your heart, and all you could do was cry. "Then why am I even here?"
"Because you're so pretty I want to do things I promise I'd never do." Haechan brushed a few stray hairs out of your face then wiped your tears. "I want to take you on cute dates and buy you a ring… But I know that I can't."
"You're pathetic, Haechan." You grabbed your bra off his nightstand and put it on. "You're a pathetic piece of shit that thinks it's fun to mess with my feelings."
"I wish I could, but I can't." Haechan stood in front of his bedroom door. "I just… I know I can't give you everything you want."
"If you loved me-"
"I DO! I love you! What don't you understand?" Haechan's voice broke. "I'm doing this because I love you! You need a man that can give you a fucking white picket fence and a six figure salary and vacations to Malibu and a retirement fund… And that will never be us."
"...But I love you. And you love me?" You hugged Haechan. "Let's date then."
"God…" Haechan stroked your hair, hugging you back. "Fine. And once the summer ends we'll break up."
~
Sweat uncomfortably stuck your hair onto your forehead, but that didn't matter since Haechan was taking you out on a date. The humidity was killing you, nearly making you unable to breathe. Or it was your nerves. 
Haechan parked the car.
"Wait, we're at-"
"A five star restaurant? I know." Haechan got out of the car then opened your door.
You rolled your eyes. "I didn't know you were so bougie, Haechan." You followed Haechan into the restaurant.
"Table for Lee Donghyuck." Haechan looked at you. "Legal name."
You nodded, wondering if the outfit you chose would be nice enough. And considering the hostess seemed to be silently judging you, probably not.
Haechan kissed your neck, right below your ear. "You're so perfect."
You giggled, the kiss tickling you. "You are too, more than you think."
"Is that why you want to marry me?" Haechan laughed back, relaxing into a back hug.
You scoffed. "Well, I certainly don't want to marry an idiot."
A waitress came up to you two and seated you both.
"Have you eaten here before?" You made small talk with Haechan.
Haechan took a sip of the wine the waitress served you two. "Fuck no, I don't have that kind of money."
"...Why are we here then?" You looked at him dumbfounded.
"Because, even if it's just for a little while longer, I'm gonna treat you right."
"You're so fucking corny, you know that?" You scoffed, trying to eat your meal.
"I love you."
You cringed. "Please stop."
"Why can't I ever have a nice moment with you?" Haechan pouted.
"Because… because we're not even actually dating." You stabbed your salad. 
"Oh my fucking- See, this is why I can't do anything nice for you, because you turn it into this whole… mess. You don't want me to do anything nice for you!" Haechan slammed a few hundred dollars on the table, then stood up. 
You spun around in your seat, grabbing Haechan's arm. "Wait, Haechan-" "That should cover the bill and tip. Stay if you want to, but I'm leaving." Haechan shook you off.
~
A few weeks later, Haechan called you and asked you to come out of the house after dark. He took you to a nearby park and you two walked around a little bit, chatting about life. He held your hand, his thumb rubbing over yours.
"Hey." He stopped in his tracks. 
You looked up at him.
"Would you really be happy if we dated and got married?" He slid his hands into his pockets.
You sighed, thinking about how to reply. "I mean…"
"Because… I've been thinking. And… If you want to marry me…" Haechan pulled something out of his pocket.
And you thought this would be it, your perfect happy ending. He had to be proposing, he had to be… You couldn't live without him, these few weeks without him were hell…
Haechan gave back the key to your house. "Then we should stop dragging this out." 
You knew this was coming, but you didn't know it was going to be tonight… You thought you had at least a few weeks. Or months.
As you walked back home, it started raining.
You looked up at the sky, the rain soaking your shirt. It was so pretty, that you thought that if a day could be so bittersweet, it would have to be today. It was so pretty, that if you could have wanted a day to last forever, then it should be today. It was so pretty, that no matter how heart broken you were, you couldn't cry.
You sat outside on a park bench for a few hours until the rain ended. And you realized the summer rain was over, and it was finally autumn. 
As promised, Haechan broke up with you on the last day of summer, just before the autumn winds.
And that was the first day you finally felt free.
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melancholysway · 1 year
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Okay okay I know your ask is closed but this idea has been eating away at my for a week now
Alright so imagine the reader is a feline mutant, could be a house cat or a big cat mutant whatever you imagine, and they’re cuddling with their turtle and they start kneading, making bread, their paws into said turtle while they sleep. How would the boys react to that? Cause it just seems so cute, especially if the reader gets embarrassed by it.
preferably 2007 or Rise, cause I’ve also seen you mention your desire for 07 requests
I’ve read a bunch of your posts and I’m sure you can do my request wonderfully, now you make sure you take care of yourself and if this is too much for you right now I can wait ❤️💖
I JUST SAW THIS & I THINK THIS WAS THE BREAK I NEEDED BC HUH
Yes YES YES
If your request hasn’t been fulfilled yet, IM SORRY BRO IM TRYING FR FR😭I think I jumped at this bc it’s just a short shot & I literally have to mentally prepare myself to write a long shot
Also me using the same 4 gifs of the guys bc there’s barely any TMNT 2007 gifs 😫😫
TMNT 2007 Headcanons: Baking Biscuits (Cat Mutant!Reader)
Leonardo
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This turtle loves every second of it
Tries to catch you all the time kneading, he’s infatuated with how normal cat habits fall onto you
How turtles have things like chitters(?) & mating season, he likes to see you have cat qualities
You knead the ends of his mask a lot
Cats sleep a lot, so I think you’d fall in between sleeping for a full 8 hours all the time no matter what
And once you wake up, Leo’s gone(in the event you stay the night or share a bed,) but he always leaves an extra blue mask for you to knead while he’s training or meditating
Like how turtles enjoy their shell to be scratched, you’ll definitely both have a set time where you just love on each other like that, where you just cuddle and scratch while he rubs your back
That’s so cute omfg wait I might’ve just did sum
Raphael
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Won’t ever tell you, but he feels it while sleeping
So much so that he’ll have a dream of you kneading on or around him
We all know he’s a cat lover
Guys that love cats >>>
But anyway, he’s already fond over you and protective
Also I hc that he feeds the stray cats around the city & the best part is watching them make biscuits in an alley
So to see you do it is the cutest
Raph is a known heavy sleeper, so he doesn’t awaken that easily
HOWEVER (comma)
He would not mind it at all if he woke up to you trying to knead on his shell before he rolled over
Also if he does wake up, he’ll lay on his stomach for easy access to his shell for you
Also doesn’t tell you if he’s awake, he’ll wait a few just to hear you purr while baking those biscuits
Donatello
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Donnie doesn’t sleep
However (comma) he wouldn’t mind it if you kneaded next to him while he was working on something
My cat usually kneads right next to me and buries their head on some part of my body, so if you do so, Donnie seriously doesn’t mind
In fact, he loves it! Just feeling you next to him is all he needs
Actually, since Donnie doesn’t sleep, I feel like he would take a cat nap (no pun intended) via bread kneading
He thinks of it as a nice massage. Although kneading is usually on a blanket or something, Donnie’s shoulders are free real estate for kneading
Michelangelo
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He notices right away
He’s not a heavy sleeper idc RAPH is 😭NOT Mikey
He immediately does the lil head pat
Also likes to joke around about it
“Guys please stop ordering biscuits Y/n’s been baking for hours please they haven’t seen their family in weeks”
That line. All. The. Time.
Is definitely the most physical out of the four brothers
Meaning he’ll absentmindedly pet you or rub your back knowing you enjoy it as if you’re a non-mutant cat
If you get a little embarrassed (especially if done around his brothers or April/Casey,) Mikey would just switch and do it in private
But tbh he just wants to show off his cute s/o to everyone
Gifts you a (very fluffy) orange blanket of his exclusively for kneading and baking those nice loaves of bread
Since being a mutant feline, your nails will naturally be sharper than average, so he always (attempts to at least) stitch the blanket back up for you?
//
Taglist:
@bee-1n-space @ducky-died-inside
Masterlist
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pjsk-writin · 1 year
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can u write the boys with a reader that has a weird affinity for cats and keeps bringing them stray cats that they're somehow familiar with to pet and whatnot
odd rq but I think it would be adorable
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cute req to start with !! im just combining these bc they're pretty similar, and welcome aboard 💮 anon !! I hope you both like this!! <3
♡ STRAY CATS - Akito Shinonome, Toya Aoyagi, Tsukasa Tenma and Rui Kamishiro x Reader
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Akito:
In all honesty, Akito is just glad that you're not bringing home dogs-
Sure, he's a bit bewildered that cats seem to love you so much, but at least it's not dogs-
At first, he doesn't really want to pet the cats, mostly out of fear that they'd hate him or hiss at him
However, his opinion is entirely changed when a little orange kitten approaches him first and nuzzles his hand
As much as he would hate to admit it, he absolutely falls in love with the cats you bring in. Sometimes, you'll find him sitting with all the cats, a wide grin on his face as they play with him <3
He'll immediately tell you that it was nothing, but you could see the bag of treats right by his leg. He just loves the kitties okay, leave him alone-
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Toya:
Toya's never really been around animals, so he's definitely pleasantly surprised by the cats!
He does ask why the cats love you so much, and you just shrug. Ah well, he loved you just as much as they did anyway!
He doesn't really know how to be around cats, he doesn't want to risk hurting them after all-
However, his nerves slowly begin to wash away every single time a cat approaches him willingly and nuzzles against him
He asks you for help most of the time, far too scared that he'll piss off or scare the cats- You get the treat of his look of awe every time he pets a cat and it purrs <3
He always feels weird asking, but he wants to go out and help you with the cats. He just finds it to be a nice bonding experience with you!
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Tsukasa:
Tsukasa absolutely loves animals! No matter what kind, he'll always gush over them!
So, he's more impressed than anything with how much cats love you. You were a lovely person though!
He immediately starts trying to pet as many cats as possible, much to some cats' displeasure-
You have to tell him to slow down, and he'll give you probably one of the saddest looks you've seen to date
Still though, he thinks it's worth it when the cats start going up to him one by one for pets. His eyes sparkle, and he gives each of them an affectionate nickname <3
He begs to keep a couple at his house, which depending on how many, Saki also ends up adopting a cat or two!
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Rui:
Rui doesn't spend a lot of time around cats, but they are definitely one of his favorite animals!
He relates to their nature quite a bit, so he isn't too shocked when he discovers how much cats love you!
He'll stand perfectly still and just watch all the cats, a small smile on his face as he observes them. He definitely asks about each and every cat
Some cats were content with just staring and watching him, while others approached him. He rewards those cats with little scritches
Soon enough, all of the cats are on him, and you just have to laugh as he pets all of them and gives them forehead kisses. He teases that they love him more than you <3
He is a natural with them though, and is very helpful whenever you go out with him and save stray cats
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blackjackkent · 1 month
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Oh, man, the Dark Urge personal quest line descriptions are even better than the narrator lines:
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Incredible. XD
Anyway. I think Rakha's primary party is going to be Lae'zel (because I think they will be buddies in bluntness), Wyll (bc romance), and Gale (bc Rakha's fascination with magic). So - initial priority is to pick up those three ASAP.
Gale is closest so we'll start heading in that general direction, but on the way we get some combat with the lingering illithid survivors, which of course Rakha barrels into headfirst leaving Shadowheart watching bemused from a slight distance.
Check out this intellect devourer that she fried to a blackened crisp with Shocking Grasp:
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More important than the devourers, though, is the mind flayer further up the slope.
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"That thing's bound to be dangerous," Shadowheart points out. "Best be careful."
And then, I can only imagine, she rolls her eyes and says "Or don't," because Rakha IMMEDIATELY recognizes this as the mind flayer she almost killed on the ship and is off at a run to finish the job.
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Narrator: You approach the dying monster. This is the thing that abducted you.
Rakha's hands are already up, ready to try out the new electrical surge she just learned she could manifest and send it slamming through every remaining cell in this creature's body, to finish the revenge she began.
And then her thoughts are dragged to a sudden halt.
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Narrator: You could end its life here and now, if only you didn't feel... compassion.
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Narrator: Compassion?!
The rage is still in her, rising, burning, conflagrating her from within but-- muted, muffled under the inescapable, alien kindness that suffuses her consciousness in this moment.
No. You should be furious... shouldn't you?
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Narrator: Yes... you feel hate. And you deserve to be punished for it. You should be whipped, made to bow before this creature in shame.
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Narrator: It's possessing your mind, forcing you to... love it.
No, says the rage, says the beast in the back of her mind. No, no, NO, NO, NONONONO-- kill, strike, maim, spill its blood silver-white in the sunlight--
She does not know where that voice comes from, she does not know why it takes such joy in the spillage of guts - but she would much rather succumb to that screaming chaos, complete the vengeance she began on the ship, than let this creature possess her for another moment. But she can't move, can't think, is on the point of falling to her knees and placing her head within the grasp of the illithid's fangs--
Narrator: But then the feeling slips... The creature's mind seems to focus elsewhere.
Take advantage of the lapse - break free.
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Narrator: The monster lies exhausted, defeated. Its eyes - wet, orange pearls - radiate malice.
She staggers backwards, ripping herself free of the mental grip. And the rage bursts out in full, a fiery inferno that consumes everything. Her vision goes white and the beast-fury takes control.
Close those eyes forever.
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-----
She comes back to herself on her knees, elbow-deep in silver blood. What exactly she did is lost to her broken memory, but the illithid's head is some distance away, spiderwebbed with electrical burns. Its body has the spine pulled free and drips steaming alien gore onto the equally alien wreckage.
Shadowheart is watching her with wide eyes. "I think you're finished with it," she says, deadpan, her eyes narrowed.
Rakha stands slowly, wiping the blood in unsteady smears on her robes. "If I could bring it back and kill it again, I would," she mutters.
Shadowheart raises an eyebrow. "Why?" she asks. It's not an innocent question; she's parsing Rakha out, bit by bit, adding to the picture.
Rakha frowns. "I don't know," she answers quietly. A pause. "It put these things in us. It tried to use me. It had to pay."
Shadowheart lets out a soft exhalation that is almost a snort but not quite. "Every hour I seem to have a new reminder not to get on your bad side," she says dryly.
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crystalflygeo · 1 year
Text
The dragon and the sacrificial lamb ft. eroded!Morax + gn!reader
cw/tags: angst, no joke I cried writing this, bittersweet ending, rough sex, feral/eroded zhongli, restraints (courtesy of improper use of geo as usual ehe) fingering, dubcon at first maybe??
notes: Alright this is a special one get ready. There's two "version" of this story bc I couldn't decide which path I liked more. This one is the bittersweet ending. Both stories are exactly the same at the start, changing a few word here and there but then reach a point where they divert completely in reactions/emotions and the underlying feeling of the stories are very different. They can be read independently ofc so by all means feel free to choose which tags you vibe with more or enjoy picking up the differences between both!
Dark/Bad ending version here!!
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Once upon a time…
A long, long time ago…
The people of Liyue revered their beloved Archon Rex Lapis. Just and kind, he led his nation for millennia, upholding order and contracts, defeating countless enemies,a nd defending their safe harbor.
It is said the Lord of Geo took a human as partner, and fell in love deep and pure.
And his partner loved him just as much.
Willing to do anything for his sake.
It is said the God understood that even he himself was not immune to erosion, and it would one day be his downfall. So, he made sure his people were ready to live on without him. That his adepti were strong enough to subdue him if the day ever came.
As for his lover… well…
-----
Your bare feet crunch along the soft grass as you run and run, panting, gasping for air, almost tripping and letting out a yelp but quickly regaining balance and scurrying faster, past the falling golden ginkgo leaves, past the soft sound of rushing waters.
The golden sunset is gorgeous, dying the sky pink and orange with pastel hues but you simply ignore it, having grown tired of it, sick even. It is fake, an illusion. Just as everything else in this adeptal abode.
Everything except, of course, you and the beast you are currently fleeing from.
It is useless to try to escape, this you know, and your heart clenches painfully as tears prickle at your eyes. You’ve done this before, played this game many many times. But at least for one moment… just one moment…
A roar turns your blood to ice and against all common sense you look over your shoulder to see a massive long dragon twisting in the air and diving straight towards you.
Your legs tremble and fail you as you fall down, the grass is soft but your body aches, tired, burning. You scramble around frantically to stare at the beast again and your eyes widen in panic as it lands right on top of you, majestic and terrifying, caging you with its serpentine body. The golden claws alone are as long as your forearms, digging on the ground at either side of you.
You whimper.
The dragon lowers his head, growling at you, fangs mere inches apart and you squeeze your eyes shut, tears running down your face.
“Why do you run away from me?”
“Please… I just want some time to myself.”
“Are you not happy with me? My mate?”
At the words you only sob harder.
Mate.
Oh, how much joy did that word bring you once. And now you can only feel your heart shatter.
You feel a shift in the wind, in the energy, in the light around you, and when you open your eyes, the massive dragon has faded to a more human appearance. He changes back to the form you’re most used to.
Long strands of dark hair tipped amber, striking golden eyes with stunning red lines that highlight their sharpness, a handsome face and a muscular body with arms died black, and lines of gold… lines that run along his cheek and down his neck. Cracks, like a broken glass, like scars, under his eyes and around his chest, ruining the pristine skin and unable to disappear despite his ability to change forms.
The undeniable marks of erosion.
You snap back to attention when he dips down and starts nosing at your neck, his hands pulling at the robe you’re wearing, the only article of clothing you picked up before scurrying away from the mansion. It parts open easily, revealing your naked body to his eyes, littered in past bruises, hickeys and bite marks. Claims from the dragon.
"W-wait. Stop-!" You try to push him back, desperately pressing your palms against his broad shoulders, but of course he's unmovable as stone.
You kick and trash until he gets irritated and suddenly your arms are immobilized, held above your head and pressed onto the very ground by heavy geo cuffs.
“Submit.” He growls.
You squirm a little more until your body sags into the ground, exhausted, panting. There is no use. Instead, you shudder as his hands explore your body, rough and callous but still gentle despite his displays of power.
He spreads your legs and slots between them as your breath catches. His thumb softly brushes at a spot on your navel lovingly, a glittering geo symbol engraved on your skin there, glowing subtly like his horns. You let out a moan.
Then his touch goes lower and teases at your entrance, circling the hole and dipping in just barely.
“Z-Zhongli-!”
Another growl comes out of his throat, deep and guttural. “You dare speak another man’s name in my presence? In my realm? When you belong to me?”
You gulp, knot in your throat, mind dizzy, heart and body aching.
And then you smile. Softly. Pained.
“Morax, my love… n-not so rough, please…” You whisper.
The eroded God leans down to kiss you, swallowing your moans when his fingers tease, rub and pull at your hole, spreading you a little, preparing you. His long serpentine tongue invades your mouth as his free hand teases a nipple before sliding to settle at your hip. Your body relaxes and melts down onto the grass, pliant for him.
When you break apart, you see pure love and adoration in his golden eyes, but they no longer carry that wisdom, that solemn and dignified depth. Only a primal desire to keep you, claim you, breed you.
It’s alright…
This was your choice.
Blinking back tears, you moan and struggle a little against the restraints on your wrists, two of Morax’s fingers already pressing deep and curling inside you. You see stars when he quickly finds that spot that shoots pleasure up your spine, having already memorized it. Your sex leaking fluids and spurring him on.
Then, Morax pulls out and you feel the tip of his cock press against you, you gasp, back arching as he slowly presses forward inside your warm heat with a pleased groan.
“S-so big… ah!” You whimper, bucking your hips on reflex.
“My mate. So pretty. I will fill you up.” He mumbles, eyes half-lidded as he rolls his hips, inch after inch sinking into you languidly until he sheathes to the hilt, your legs spread around him. Morax slides his large hands around your hips, lifting them to pull closer and deeper, the new angle making his cockhead press deep against your sweet spot. He wastes no time thrusting in and out, gradually picking up the pace.
It's almost tender.
Soft keening sounds escape your lips as you lock your legs around his lower back, your feet resting atop the base of his tail which whips around wildly as he starts fucking faster. You feel the world blur around you, all that exists is you two and the mounting pleasure, the wet sounds and the slapping of skin against skin.
“Morax… Morax… ah! I’m… I’m c-close…”
He grunts and redoubles his efforts, hands pressing bruising spots at your hips, your insides clenching around him. “Mine.” He growls possessively, and you nod and chant his name over and over. Everything feels hot, dizzy, so much- too much-
You come with a filthy cry tumbling out of your lips, slick juices rolling down your skin. He continues through your overstimulated state, chasing his own pleasure as his thrust become erratic until finally, he stills deep inside and moans long and low, painting your insides white.
The two of you ride out your orgasms in tandem, then he drapes over you, kissing your skin softly and making you sigh.
“My love, please, release me?” You try, struggling against the cuffs once again. “I want to touch you.”
“No.” He snarls. “You’ll only try to escape again.”
“I-I won’t… hng… I promise. I’m yours.” You reply breathless, full of emotion.
Morax eyes you with a stern expression, contemplating for a moment before letting out a soft huff. You feel the geo cuffs dissipate into golden dust, your aching limbs free, though sore, but you ignore it as your hand weakly cups his cheek, thumb rubbing at the golden scars there. Morax leans into the soft touch, nuzzling your palm.
“Love you.” The eroded dragon mutters, and you imagine it’s your lover telling you, despite his decaying fractured mind.
“I… I love you too.” You reply softly, bittersweet tears rolling down your face.
Forever and always.
-----
…It is said that his lover made the ultimate sacrifice.
Willingly locked with the eroded god in a sealed realm, to keep him ensnared, enchanted and bound to them.
Until they both turn to dust.
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Note
Have any thoughts about the locked tomb lately?
oh, so many. always. all day long. here's a few highlights:
perfect lyctorhood is literally mutual death.
scary alecto rights AND wrongs.
people need to make john gaius more cringe.
for some reason, it took me this long to figure out "niner" names are literally just variations of the number nine. that's why they all start with the letter n. same with the other house last names.
i love camilla with all of my sapphic being.
would john gaius be a homestuck. homestucks please let me know as i am not one myself
highly dislike people who project toxic masculinity onto john. he is literally an allegory for why and how you don't have to be Bad in order to be bad. he is a case study of a soft, sentimental progressive, who got too fucking powerful and caused a mass extinction event.
also highly dislike people who think the name 'kiriona gaia' was forced onto gideon. she literally makes zero indication that she doesn't like the name. it connects her with an entirely different culture than her niner name. let the girl have her character arc.
alright, i've also had a LOT of thoughts about the harrow nova role reversal au, except john and alecto's roles are reversed, but i already wrote them all down, so here's a copy-and-paste version of that:
- john with the orange/yellow eyes. alecto with the nuclear fallout eyes.
- mercymorn and augustine absolutely terrified of alecto.
- ninth house shadow cult worships john's body instead of alecto's.
- nigenad poetry about him? possibly?
- since this is still the harrow nova universe, RD!gideon would've been the one who broke into the tomb as a child.
- she broke into the tomb and found john and was like "this is the mf we've been tomb-keeping the whole time? he is literally just a guy."
- she was not impressed.
- but nobody would ever believe her if she told them.
- oh, also, the wake thing still happened, so gideon, unknowingly, found his father's body. maybe if his eyes were open she would've realized it, but alas.
- 10 000 is a long time. plenty enough for alecto to establish an entirely different nine houses.
- she would style it after the earth!! bc she literally is the earth, and she misses the system that had been!!
- alecto's personality and demeanor fit the role of god way better than john's, tbh.
- like. she speaks biblically. he speaks tumblr references.
- at the end of ntn, he would walk out of that tomb like "oops looks like my alarm didn't go off again lol"
- the story of a planet and a human. where the planet traps the human in a sleep for 10 000 years. she keeps him alive because she loves him, but he can't keep existing freely because of his powers.
- tbh. i have an intrinsic need to objectify john gaius
- he is so so pretty and inside a glass coffin for forever. ideal man. /j
- he would not stab alecto!!! he wouldn't. he would try and he would fall to his knees dramatically and start sobbing "i missed you so much, i missed you so much, why did you leave me? i've been so cold, so cold and dead and alone for all these centuries." and THEN he would kill her. or at least attempt to. even in canon universe, it's made clear she's stronger than him.
- scary alecto rights AND wrongs. she kills!!!! and not out of fear like jod, just out of anger. very sexy of her tbh.
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effervescentdragon · 2 years
Text
A little sneak peak into the Pirate Au Sequel, for @hourcat bcs I love her and I can. :)
"Who are the Bulls?" Charles asks. It's obviously the wrong thing to ask, because Pierre freezes. His expression changes from contemplative to – to ashamed.
"Charles, I –" he starts to say, swallowing heavily as he does, "I've been a pirate for - ever since I left." He swallows, and Charles gets a bit distracted by the way his throat moves.
"And I haven't always been part of Lewis' crew. And I've done some things," he says, and his voice is so full of self-hatred, it hurts Charles' heart to hear it. "I've done some things I'm really not proud of, and some pretty unforgivable things, and I think you –"
Charles leans in and kisses him. He pulls away, blushing, but he holds fast. Pierre looks stunned.
"I don't care," Charels says, then leans in again. "You did whatever you had to do, and whatever you needed to do, and you survived," he says against Pierre's lips. "You're still alive, and you're here, and I don't care."
"Charles," Pierre whispers. "I'm not - I'm not a good man." He's kissing Charles back, leaving shallow pecks on his lips. His hand tangles in Charles' hair, gentle but firm.
"Oh, shut up, calamar," Charles says. "Why are you always so dramatic," he says, and kisses Pierre, catching his top lip between his. "Whatever you did, I do not care. I know you," he says. "I've known you ever since I knew myself, even before, and I know what kind of man you are, Pierre Gasly."
Pierre's hand in his hair tightens, and his kisses linger longer. "We've been apart for years," he whispers, and his teeth press into Charles' lower lip. "How do you know I'm not a bad, bad man?"
Pierre's hands are holding him, and his lips are on Charles', and his body is so close, Charles can feel his body heat. He whimpers when Pierre's tongue licks at his lips. "How do you know I'm not a scoundrel?"
Charles grabs at Pierre's wrists and opens his eyes just as Pierre opens his. A moment passes; Charles lunges, turning them around so that he's sitting on Pierre's hips and looming over him.
"You were always a scoundrel, Pear," he whispers sweetly, staring into Pierre's dazed eyes. "You used to steal sweets from the kitchen and oranges from the field when you were, what? Five? Scoundrel," he says with a laugh, which cuts off when Pierre puts his hands on Charles' hips. Their touch burns through Charles' shirt, and Pierre's eyes burn too.
"I stole them for you," he says fiercely. Before Charles can respond in any way, Pierre's grip on him tightens, and he switches them around, tumbling them like they used to do when they were younger.
Except it's nothing like it was when they were younger, really. Not like those couple of times when they were fifteen or so, and they wrestled, and Charles made sure to keep his body away from Pierre's anywhere where it could betray him. He thinks Pierre may have done that too then, now that he knows that Pierre has always felt just like him.
This time, Pierre is a solid weight on him, pressing his whole body against Charles' and pressing Charles into the bed. Charles' mouth falls open, unable to form a coherent thought, because there is such reverence in Pierre's expression, it humbles him.
"I didn't even like oranges," Pierre whispers, leaning over Charles, his lips a breath apart. His eyes are sapphire-blue, and his cross necklace touches Charles' throat from where it's hanging around his neck; a sharp point of contact that makes him shiver. "I just loved you."
Charles surges up, smashing their lips together desperately. Pierre catches him, tries to soothe him, to slow down, but Charles feels too much, he's waited too long, and he kisses Pierre with everything he has. He lets his legs fall apart around Pierre, pulling him closer. He grabs at Pierre's shoulders and his hair, and kisses him desperately, clumsily, until Pierre gives up on his tries to soothe Charles and gives in.
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wonusite · 11 months
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hiii, it's minwon nonny. i know i've talked about being sick and taken care of by minwon before, but could i ask for some hcs or a blurb about it? i have a bad cold right now and something like that would be comforting :(. sorry if i seem demanding at all. also, i hope ur having a nice day because you deserve it. -minwon nonny
ahh my love you’re not demanding at all! anyways i hope you get better soon bc being sick is the worst :(
“—wait until i get my hands on him.”
your bleary eyes can barely register the orange hues lighting up the room. the way your body is aching and the chills running through it almost makes you want to succumb to the peaceful darkness of sleep, but you recognize that aggressive growl all too well.
“nu?” your voice comes out weak and scratchy, but it’s enough for both of your bfs to hear you and rush to your side.
“baby.” wonwoo’s voice comes out in a soft whisper compared to before. “did we wake you?”
mingyu shoots him a look before he places his cool hand to your forehead, frowning when he feels the that heat hasn’t gone down at all. “sleep some more, angel. we’ll be right here.”
it’s so tempting, especially because you know it’ll put you out of your misery. but given what you’d heard and the tone the words were spoken in, you can’t very well fall back into blissful sleep without knowing that your two favorite people weren’t going to do something stupid.
“hannie didn’t mean to get me sick.” you croak.
gyu and wonu clench their jaws. while they would agree that it may not have been intentional, jeonghan was still to blame for getting you sick. they couldn’t let this go because they could tell you were feeling worse than you were letting on. but even if you hadn’t lied they would’ve been able to tell because it was well into the evening, and you still showed no signs of getting better.
“but he did.”
you pout at your bfs when they growl out those three words at the same time. “don’t be mad.”
if there was one thing they weren’t capable of, it was displeasing you in any way. so they promise you they won’t do anything to your friend as long as you rest some more.
the next morning, you feel a bit better, but not enough to want to leave your large bed.
gyu gently caresses the side of your face, brown eyes filled with concern when you groan softly. “i made you some soup. you don’t have to finish it, but you have to eat some of it—you can’t take medicine on an empty stomach.”
before you can even say anything, wonwoo is coming into the room with a bowl and glass of water in hand. mingyu makes room for him, both wordlessly sitting on either side of you to help you sit up. you go to grab the bowl, but wonu holds it out of your reach. instead he lifts a spoonful of the warm soup (not forgetting to blow on it first) to your lips.
you let yourself literally be spoon fed, sighing quietly when wonwoo pauses to let mingyu feed you some water. after you manage to finish an amount of the soup your boyfriends are satisfied with, they give you the medicine mingyu bought before laying you back down and cuddling you.
“love you guys.” you say sleepily, eyes drifting shut as they wrap their arms around you and nuzzle your cheeks affectionately.
“we love you too.” gyu whispers adoringly.
“so much.” wonu agrees, squeezing you tighter.
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