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#life is slowly sorting itself out
boxwinebaddie · 2 months
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alright, angels; as much as i like talking about The Boys, i am getting a little bit burnt out. :/ so, while i recuperate from ravesey, if you would like to ask me a question about any of the Side Characters you're interested in, i'd love nothing more!!! <333 literally any of them. adults, adolescents, animals, etc. you can ask me about ones that haven't been written in yet and i can tell you where i might cobble them in. again, though, all of this is subject to change while i world build, but i am excited about a lot of ideas and concepts i've figured out thus far!
also, please know that i love you all very much. <333
thank you for being kind to me yesterday. c':
-uncle nina
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pensivelyplayfulme · 2 years
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I’m so jealous and so amazed when people have cool parents. Just decent folk who you feel comfortable cussing in front of who care about their kids. Its magical to me. Like my parents love me, but they... I could never just kick it with them and I certainly can’t confide in them anymore.
If you have a satisfactory relationship with your parent(s) please take a minute to appreciate that, for me.
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lovelybluebirdie · 5 months
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The astonishing failure of a simple plan
Astarion x f!Reader
Summary: Astarion tries to wrap his head around you, when a sudden tumult in camp occurs.
[AO3]
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The concept of altruism had always been quite strange to Astarion.
Doing something solely for benefiting others, without one's own needs primarily in mind – how outrageously foolish. 
And yet, he caught himself considering the idea more often since he had met you. 
You, the soft-hearted soul who always seemed to stumble directly into the next best opportunity to solve the problems of complete strangers that would cross your way – gladly interfering with any sort of personal drama. 
Although you and the rest of your travel companions had been infected with a tadpole to the brain, leaving you in desperate need for a cure to this rather urgent condition, somehow you would always manage to save a child from getting gruesomely killed by harpies, pick a fight with a powerful hag to rescue some random woman you just met or annihilate an entire camp full of goblins to ensure safe travels for a bunch of Tieflings – without at least demanding a proper compensation for all your troubles. 
You just did those things, and it drove Astarion mad.  
Perhaps one of the reasons for your undeniable saviour complex were the recurring thoughts that plagued you. You had once explained it as particularly dark urges, the impulse to hurt and kill spreading its roots inside your brain, evolving into a yearn to act out the most gruesome visions one could imagine. Gloriously kill an innocent to bathe in their blood, crush a squirrel to death with your bare fists or rip off a stranger's hand in need of help – malicious ideas that would otherwise never cross your mind.
The origin of these unwanted desires were unknown to you, but you sensed that it had to be connected to your past somehow – a part of you that had yet to be completely revealed. Of course, you had sworn to give everything in your might to resist them. And luckily for the life of your travel companions, you were mostly able to succeed.
Regardless of these murderous tendencies coming with your affliction, you were still the kindest person Astarion had ever met. A contradiction in itself, and yet you were – well, you.
Lately, Astarion had caught himself just perceiving you. 
Taking in your soft expression as you were mindlessly humming a song to yourself, sitting barefoot by the river, hands elbow-deep in the cold water to wash your clothes, sticking this stupid little melody to his head for the rest of the day.
While resting at camp, he had watched you reading – one of your favourites, the lexicon of bird species in Faerûn – a terribly boring topic, but you seemed to indulge in the lengthy descriptions of a blue jay’s wingspan. You would fetch Astarion a caught smile between slowly turned pages, eyes half-closed, before eventually dozing off in the flickering light of the fire. He had barely been fast enough to catch the edges of your slipping book, saving it from landing in the dirt.
The other day, he noticed you carefully picking flowers from the road, acting like it was the most important task on your schedule. Later, you would sit in silence, brows furrowed in concentration and hands busy with knotting them into a beautiful headband. A gift for Karlach, since you had sensed that she hadn’t been too well on this particular day.
A sickeningly sweet gesture.
And yet, so typically you. Affectionate, always looking after your dearest companions.
He remembered the feeling of you casually squeezing his shoulder after an exhausting battle, the concerned look you would give him as you noticed that he had been injured, and how you insisted on treating his wounds with the utmost care, not leaving his side before you made sure his bleeding had entirely stopped.
There was the sensation of your fingers gently forming circles through his white curls, while he had buried his fangs deep inside your neck, greedily gulping down the blood you had been willingly offered to him. The quickening of your pulse, the little shivers your body would give away as he was feeding on you. 
Your thumb shyly placed against his brow, the tender movement as you traced his features. The sincerity in your voice as you described the outlines of his face to him, after he had shared with you that his lack of reflection had turned the image of his own appearance into a dark shape from his past. Profane vanity was all he had initially seeked from you that evening, listening to you calling him beautiful and stroking his ego, and yet there had been a certain intimacy resonating in that moment. You had described to him what the world would see when it looked at him – what you would see. 
Astarion groaned and pulled his blanket up to his chin, almost covering his bottom lip with the thin woollen fabric.
Gods, how you irritated him. 
How you had infested his mind with your nauseating goodness. 
When you first met, Astarion had decided that precisely this outstanding character trait of yours should be your undoing.
You offered an easy prey, he had thought to himself in a blissful glee, as he imagined all the ways in which he would bargain your trust. 
Luring and deceiving were practically moulded into him, therefore charming you appeared as easy as picking the lock on a broken chest. In order to survive under his former master Cazador, he had become an unwilling adept in these abilities. 
Astarion flinched as the memory of his ruthless tormentor reentered his mind. Cazador had turned him into a vampire spawn almost two centuries ago and made him his slave, forcing him to a life in complete darkness and made him use his body to bring more than thousands of victims to him.
In order to deceive you, Astarion had formed a rather simple plan: Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you would never turn on him – old habits that cemented over the past centuries had kicked in.
Therefore, it should have been easy with you. Instinctive. Following a pattern of studied behaviour, throwing his best lines at you until you would breathe his name between tousled sheets - leaving your body aching for him and trusting him unconditionally.  
All he had to do was follow this nice little plan of his, deepening the selfish bond he aimed to create between the two of you in order to secure his safety. To get you on his side. 
It should have been nothing more than an insurance. A simple transaction, so to speak: His honeyed words for your protection. Performing an act, yourself delightfully unaware of your leading role in this little play of his.
Well, and what else could it ever be? After all, manipulating others in order to get something out of them was the only way he had ever known. 
And yet: with you, things had somewhat felt entirely different.  
At least, his plan had evidently borne fruit by now: Not only were you voluntarily offering your blood to help him with his cravings after he had revealed his past of being a vampire spawn, you had also sworn to help him finding out the meaning of the scars on his back and dealing with Cazador when the time would come.
Still, instead of savouring his accomplishment he found himself distracted with his attempts to wrap his head around you. 
Sometimes he wanted nothing more than to peek inside this little skull of yours, picking your brain until he would satisfy his curiosity with you and determine the reason why you were lingering on his mind of late. 
He wanted to figure out what made him actually want to listen to the things you had to say, admire your wit when you would share a heartfelt laugh over one of your foolish jokes or why he would seek your company after a night spent in familiar solitude. And even worse: Why in the Hells he had caught himself enjoying how your face would light up after you had saved another unfortunate soul in need on your travels. 
Astarion sighed and pushed his fingers to his eyes, hoping that pressing them shut would free him from his vexing thoughts, as a sudden noise distracted him.
The pounding of hurried footsteps and jumbled voices rose outside his tent, growing louder and faster.
He let out another disgruntled sigh.
Gods, what would it be now?
Whoever was roaming around your camp this late at night, screaming like an animal, better had a rightful reason to do so.
His annoyance fell off immediately as he came to understand what the unfamiliar voices were yelling: Your name. Followed by pleas for help.
Before he even comprehended what exactly posed this sudden level of urgency, his feet had already dragged him outside in the dark, a cold breeze brushing against his skin.
“What is going on?” he heard his own voice meddling into the sudden tumult. 
Then he spotted you: Arms and legs hanging lifelessly, brought down on your bedding by one of the Harpers he remembered from the Last Light Inn. You were followed by a few other Harpers who positioned themselves around your tent - they were desperately shouting for a healer.
An icy grip twisted Astarion’s chest as he stormed forward to reach you, stomping through mud and dirt.
“Is she hurt?” His voice broke as he saw your face. You were lying on your blanket, eyes rolling behind closed lids, cheeks all flushed and a thin line of sweat forming on your brow. You looked utterly terrible: Weakened and sick, seemingly in a feverish delirium. 
Astarion had seen you wounded before, due to blood and gore being in the nature of your journey to free yourself from the tadpoles, but never like this: more dead than alive, not moving a single major muscle.
What in the Nine Hells had happened to you?
Astarion swallowed hard before he found his voice again and turned to the ones who had brought you in.
“What did you do to her?” he hissed, readying himself to grab the Harper next to him by the throat and shake him until his tongue would loosen. “Explain yourself, now!”
Before any of the men could open their agape mouths in response to Astarion’s daunting request, Shadowheart broke the heated atmosphere with a soft push to his shoulder and made way to kneel beside you. 
“Let me see her.” She spoke quickly as she felt for your pulse and started to spread her hands protectively over you, encompassing you in a blue radiance. She was already casting a healing spell.
“Your friend, she… she was fighting a shadow creature, and it must have poisoned her,” the Harper that had carried you pressed between quivering lips. “We already sent someone to call for Isobel. She will know what to do.” As he met Astarion’s furious glimpse, he hastily added “They – they should be here any minute.”
Poison? Astarion wrinkled his nose. Indeed, your blood smelled different – somewhat tainted. 
He focused his gaze back to you, suppressing the urge to slap that damned Harper straight across the face. 
Instead of acting out this violent thought, he sank to his knees next to Shadowheart and carefully laid one hand on your cheek. You were burning hot and letting out ragged breaths between your cracked lips.
“I can cast my spells, but I am not versed in the toxins of the Dark”, Shadowheart declared with the most tensed look on her face, her magic still hovering over your body. “We need Isobel – fast.”
Another twist in Astarion’s chest. He racked his brain for a solution, his hand still held helplessly against your cheek. You were in need of healing, desperately, and more adept than Shadowheart could provide. His senses began to blur.
Through the pulsing sound of blood rushing through his ears he could only gather a few scraps of the enfolding conversation between the Harpers and the rest of your companions that had hurried to your aid.
It was enough to paint a picture of what happened to you: During your night watch, you had noticed a Harper being dragged away in the shadows and went immediately to his aid. With a few quick blows, you had managed to kill the attacking creature and save the unfortunate man from his demise, but for its final act it stroked you with its claw, leaving a deep scratch on your right arm – the source of the suspected poison that would flow through your veins. 
Astarion bit the inside of his cheek, spilling blood. His mind was racing. 
Of course you had gotten yourself in danger over saving someone else again. 
In normal times, he would have loved to tease you for your foolish act of heroism and give you an “I told you so”, probably earning a defiant look from you while you would emphasise the importance of helping those in need. 
Hells, he desired nothing more than to listen to your moralising if it meant that he could just hear your voice right now. 
But instead of lecturing him on morality, you were still lying on your mattress, unmoving and probably on the verge of death, and he couldn’t think of a single way to rid you of this terrible state.
He felt numb. Useless. It made him sick.
A gut wrenching thought rushed over him. 
What if you would die right now – just like that? 
Before he could… Well, before he could do what exactly?
The image of your limp lifeless body with dead staring eyes entered his mind.
No. You didn’t deserve to die. You couldn’t die. Not like this. Not now, not ever, not from saving a goddamned Harper.
Then you whimpered. 
Silent, almost inaudible, but enough to set Astarion ablaze. 
The urge of punishing every single one who had dared to lead you to harm overcame him like a ruthless wave crashing shore. He wanted to cut open, to rip apart and to send everyone into eternal hell.
Fire took over his crimson eyes as he bared his fangs, the look of a predator on his pale face, ready to curse those wretched Harpers or worse, as another quiet sound spilled from your lips.
“As… Astar... ion…?”
He froze.
His name – spoken as gentle as a flicker of moonlight glistening through leaves. Not moaned in lust or used to denounce him in anger – just… him being called, in the most faintest way. 
He felt his eyes wet before he even knew it, his mouth opened for a split second only to his lips pressing it shut again, forcing himself to blink before a single tear could make its way down his cheek.
You sounded so fragile. So ... in need of him.
“Asta...rion?”
His chest twisted again.
He wanted to whisper words of comfort to you, chanting them over and over like a prayer, assuring you that everything would be alright.
“Don’t speak,” he managed to breathe in a cracked voice. “I’m here, my sweet.”
Your eyes were still closed and moving fast underneath your lids. You spoke in a fever, and he could sense that you were in pain. 
Astarion brushed a strand of hair off your sweaty brow, using just the tips of his slender fingers. A most careful touch, as if a hint of deeper force would break you. 
Then, there was no more sound coming from you.
“Hells, where is that goddamned cleric? If she doesn’t arrive here any second, I’m going to drag her over myself-” Astarion’s voice was nothing more than a helpless plea. He sounded way less threatening than he had wished for, almost spilling those tears he had to hold back, and seconds before bursting if there would be no aid for you right now.
“No need to shout, my friend. I’m right here.”
Isobel. Finally. 
A fire in his stomach again.
How dared she sound so calm, considering your condition?
With haste, Isobel knelt between him and Shadowheart and opened her pouch, revealing a set of different sized bottles. She began to examine you with concentration, lifting your eyelids to look at your pupils, checking your vitals and thoroughly inspecting the wound the monster had inflicted on you. 
Astarion gritted his teeth in anticipation, a thick lump forming in his throat. 
“Will she be alright?” he eventually demanded, his voice cracking like a violin out of tune, but Isobel ignored him and silently continued her treatment. 
“Astarion, I’m worried about her too, but I think we shouldn’t disturb Isobel right now,” Wyll interfered softly and squeezed his shoulder. 
Taken aback, Astarion pressed his lips together. Of course Wyll would be the voice of reason in a situation like this, but unfortunately he wasn’t wrong. Isobel was the most profound healer available, an expert on the shadow creatures - and unlike himself, she offered the possibility to save you.
“As I thought,” Isobel mumbled after a minute that had felt like eternity and opened one of her potions with a loud plop. “She will need this.”
She then put her thumb on your chin, carefully opening your mouth and pouring in a dark liquid, before she continued to clear your wound. 
Astarion eagerly watched her hands treating you with expertise, still not laying his gaze off you.
“I gave her a powerful antidote,” Isobel began to explain calmly as she spread a colourless balm on your torn flesh. “Such poison needs fast treatment. Fortunately, if dealt with in time, it can still be cured. I’m glad I was able to aid your dear friend before it made its way through her entire body. Otherwise… It most likely would have been fatal.”
Astarion’s muscles tightened and his stomach turned. You almost died tonight.
Isobel seemed to notice his tension, so she quickly added “With this antidote, she will be completely fine in the morning. Her fever might continue through the night, but I promise that there is no more reason for concern.”
“Are you completely sure of that, Isobel?” Shadowheart asked, seeking out reassurance that the treatment truly had succeeded.
“I swear by Selune, she is not at risk anymore. The antidote freed her from the poison and the balm will heal her wound,” the cleric responded confidently. “Her body will do the rest.” 
The tight, dark blanket that had wrapped around Astarion’s chest began to loosen up.  
“I… I’m glad that she’ll be alright,” was all he managed to vocalise as the adrenaline slowly faded from his body.
“Thank you, Isobel,” added Gale, who had been nervously walking up and down your tent as Isobel had tended to your condition. 
Even Shadowheart, a devoted follower of Lady Shar, spared a few words of gratitude towards the cleric following her sworn enemy’s beliefs.
A general sense of ease took over from the strained atmosphere that had prevailed just a moment ago.
“She needs rest and quiet now,” Isobel claimed and gave a telling look to your companions and the assembly of Harpers that gathered around your tent. 
An unspoken demand that it was time to give you some space now.
*
“I will stay with her,” Astarion announced to Shadowheart and the remaining group after Isobel and the Harpers had left for the Last Light Inn. There had been a quick discussion if you should have been brought with them, but eventually it was decided that you were more safe in your own bedroll than being dragged through the shadow infested lands again. 
“Are you sure, Astarion? I’d be more than glad to watch over her myself,” Shadowheart responded, not hiding her surprise over his proposition.
Even if Astarion wasn’t sure about anything in particular right now, he felt the pressing need to remain by your side until you would open your eyes again, ensuring that Isobel had spoken the truth and the threat had passed. 
“Well, I won’t be able to get some more rest tonight anyway, so I might as well just stay over here,” he attempted in a more indifferent manner. “Besides, her tent is by far the most comfortable one our excuse for a camp has to offer, and I’m looking forward to indulging in some peace and quiet after all of this night's terrible trouble.”
Karlach listened to his explanation in slight amusement and gave him a supporting nod. Liar, her smiling face said.
“Well, if you’re sure, and there are no objections… Then it’s fine with me, I suppose,” Shadowheart replied with a raised eyebrow. “But promise to shout for me if something’s the matter, will you?”
“Gods, would you please give me some credit here, you mother hen. I got this,” Astarion said and rolled his eyes. On the inside, he was still shaken up, and he could only hope that the slight pitch in his voice wouldn’t give him away. “So hush hush everyone, off you go now. Get in some  beauty sleep, as you all are evidently in need of it.”
“Chk!” Lae’zel interfered in the most angry whisper she could muster. “Leave Astarion to look after her for the night if he insists. I’m certain he knows the fate that will await him should she come to harm under his supervision.” Lae’zel’s very own way to express that she came to care about you.
“Charming as ever,” Astarion replied at this implicit threat, still holding no intention to move merely an inch from his spot next to your bedroll.
“You see, Shadowheart? There seems to be no need to worry about our dearest friend,” Gale added with a slight chuckle. “I suppose she’ll be in good hands for tonight.”
Shadowheart let out a grunt and readied herself to leave with the others, but not before she would lay one last gaze on you, ensuring that you had not gotten any worse over the last few minutes.
*
Astarion watched your chest rise and fall in a soothing rhythm.
What a mess this night had been.
From the moment the Harpers had brought you in it had been like a heavy weight violently crushing his chest over and over, turning him into an angry, scared wreck, and the pressure only began to wear off by now.
Realistically, he knew that you were safe and the danger had passed. But then, why was there such an uneasiness lingering on him?
He had been scared in his life before, probably more times than he could recall, and yet… The fear over losing you tonight had shifted something in him. 
You had called for him in your feverish delirium, as you were lying helpless and in pain. 
It was an image hard to shake off.
Astarion sighed, when he noticed that you were still in your armour. There was no way in Hell he would let you sleep in this reeking dirt-covered piece of cloth, so his dexterous fingers began to peel it off, piece by piece. Carefully not to wake you, he stored your armour aside, until you were lying in your undergarment. Then he took your blanket and wrapped it around you.
With another gentle motion, he let his finger stroke along your brow, brushing over the dampness of your skin. You were still feeling hot. 
His nose wrinkled as he pulled down his sleeve to cautiously wipe your sweat away. There was no need to get up to fetch some extra cloth, and he would be perfectly capable of cleaning his shirt the next morning.
For a while, Astarion would just watch over you, mustering your relaxed face and ensuring that your breathing continued steadily. You seemed to be in a calm sleep, still feverish, but evidently better looking than the moment you had been brought in.
The next morning came to his mind. Perhaps he might attempt to prepare your favourite food for you, a simple but apparently very delicious berry porridge. Not that he had any particular experience on the matter, since his culinary needs were restricted to blood these days, but if someone like Gale was able to cook it, he surely would be too. Maybe he would surprise you with the dog or the owlbear for some morning snuggling in bed, as you seemed to never spend a single day without indulging in some pets on your journey. Well, he probably should bring in both. Oh how delighted you would be, waking up to these furry little beasts, he thought with a grin. 
Then it hit him.
Shit.
His nice, simple plan with you had truly and utterly fallen apart.
What should have been nothing more than an insurance for his safety, a way to rid himself of the tadpole in his brain and offer him a powerful ally to face Cazador some day, had developed into something he never experienced before.
He genuinely cared about you - more than he thought himself to be capable of. You had become most precious to him, and he felt the urgent need to be honest with you. 
You were incredible, and you didn’t deserve to be lured into a selfish alliance.
You deserved something real. 
He wanted things between you to be something real - even if he didn’t know what real looked like. After all, charming and deceiving others was the only way he had ever known. Forming a sincere connection and being close with someone posed an entirely new and remarkably scary sensation. But maybe, with you…
Your faint voice brought him back from his thoughts. 
“Asta...rion?” 
His face softened, not as an act of will, more like a reflex.
You looked at him with half-open eyes, sounding still a little weak.
He bowed his head closer to you and spoke softly, letting his thumb brush gently over your cheek.
"There you are, my little fool. Getting ourselves in trouble over our constant need to do something heroic again, weren’t we?”
“Mh… Is that so?” you asked in a raspy voice, offering a weak smile through glistening eyes underlined with dark circles, your hair pressed damp to your skull. “And you saved me, I suppose?” 
Astarion’s heart grew tight with adoration. To him, you had never looked more beautiful.
“I’m afraid not, my dear. Actually, you have been poisoned by a shadow creature, so you were in need of a more adept healer. Isobel treated you.”
“Mhm.. How bad was it?”
He thought for a moment, the fear he had felt rushing over him for a split second and piercing his chest like ice. 
"Well, not as bad as it could have. I’ll spare you the details for tomorrow.”
“That’s… good.” You hummed, sounding drowsy and still a little feverish. Then, you gave a soft plea. “Astarion… Would you… stay with me tonight?”
There it was again, a pull at his heartstrings. 
Gods, you wicked little thing.
“Of course, my darling. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
A promise, unimaginable honest had it been another time, with another person, but this was now, and this was you.
He gave another gentle press to your hand, carefully intertwining your fingers with his, as if to underline his words.
"Thank you,” you whispered, eyes closed for a second before you let your gaze meet his again. Another quiet mumble. "Could you... hold me please?"
Astarion was overwhelmed by your vulnerability for a second. He wanted nothing more than to provide you comfort, to make you feel safe, but didn't know if he should give in. Even though you had often shared your bedroll these days, this somehow felt more open, more intimate.
Before he realised what he was doing, he swiftly lifted off your blanket to slip underneath and laid his arm around your waist, pulling you in close.
He could feel your hand on his chest. Your head gently resting on his shoulder, fingers loosely clutching around the end of his collar. Your warm body against his cold.
Astarion let his fingers gently caressing the small of your back.
You were breathing steady, already seeming to doze off again. A soothing calmness came over him.
“I hope… I didn’t worry you too much,” you mumbled, more asleep than awake.
Astarion bit his lip.
“Well…” he said and cleared his throat. “I managed.” A complete understatement of events, but this was also a confession for another day. “Rest now, my love.”
Astarion continued to gently stroke your back, his lips turning into an affectionate smile. He never thought his heart to be this full over the failure of such a simple plan.
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ceilidho · 6 months
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prompt: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 2. (part 1 here)
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The urge sits right under his skin.
It’s a month out from hibernation, the torpor not quite sunk in all the way just yet. Plenty of time still to stockpile supplies, train the new rangers before his leave of absence, and chop all the firewood needed for the winter months. Plenty of time on the surface, that is—with only a month left to go, John quietly acknowledges to himself that maybe he bit off more than he could chew this time around. 
It’s exhausting work though. The new batch of recruits are fresh-faced, hardly experienced enough yet to last the season without him, but he hadn’t had much choice with Gaz taking the year off to go back to school. He’s been regularly putting in sixty to seventy hour weeks, hardly leaving him any time to cook or clean or prep for hibernation. Time goes by in a flash. He hasn’t even done a quarter of the repairs around the house that he’d wanted to finish before slipping into the winter torpor.
Hard to figure it out. He’s been putting it off without a real reason, getting lost in the forest for long swaths of time, trudging through the new snow up high in the mountains. Hardly ever in his bear form, conscious of not totally giving over to the animal, but occasionally he can’t help slipping into like tumbling down a snowbank, just losing his footing for a moment and sliding, sliding, sliding until hours have passed and he finally hears his own chuffs and feels branches crack under the weight of his paws.
He winces when he turns back, bones creaking and cracking back into place. 
John has been smelling something around town for weeks now, something sweet and delicate like sap over a branch, but work has left him too busy to start anything. Instead he stops by the grocers every other day, where the scent is strongest, to pick up miscellaneous items. Canned soup here, steaks there. He stockpiles canned and tinned goods in his den, preparing for the long winter when he’s lulled into sleep for extended periods of time, but every time he enters his den, it feels oddly bereft. Empty. Missing something.
The month or so before hibernation always leaves him feeling groggy and laconic; it makes his eyes go half-lidded and his speech descend into grunts and one-worded answers. He spends so many weeks hoarding food and blankets and firewood for the brief moments when he wakes that he can’t stop himself from eyeing even the pretty cashier like another thing to hoard.
He holds himself back, but just.
John wakes up on the couch after a particularly rough shift, groggy and out of sorts. Flecks of sleep stuck in the corners of his eyes still. He’d run into another bear (a real one) on the trail hassling a couple hikers during his shift and it’d taken a couple stressful minutes to gently guide the hikers away before dealing with the bear himself. It’s easier to deal with them in his bear skin, but he generally avoids shifting in the month leading up to hibernation for a reason. It settles him deeper into his bear, draws the sleep closer.
He’s full of cuts and bruises, his side covered in a barely healed, particularly nasty gash, the flesh knitting itself together slowly. His stomach growls. He hadn’t had a chance to cook himself any supper when he got home before collapsing on the couch—had barely eaten lunch as well. That’s part and parcel of his way of life; even during the summer, the days had been long, extending well into the twilight hours. 
And bears need food. John burns calories faster than most, an enormous amount of energy expended when shifting into his other form. He’s a familiar face at every restaurant, grocery store, and market in town for a reason, even if that reason isn’t widely known. In the summer, there was at least some time during the day to gorge himself on berries or fish from a nearby stream, but the berries and fish have long disappeared with the coming of winter. It shouldn’t come as a surprise—hunger dominates his mind during the months leading up to winter—but it’s somehow caught him off guard this year. 
His head perks up when the doorbell rings. 
It doesn’t ring again, but he can hear someone on the other side of his front door, shifting from foot to foot. John isn’t expecting anyone and doesn’t remember inviting anyone over, but he gets up anyway to answer the door. 
There’s a pretty little thing waiting for him on his front porch with a bowl of stew and homemade sourdough bread. He recognizes her from the grocery store, the sweet smelling thing always looking over at him from the till. 
“Sorry to trouble you,” she says, peeking around him. Probably trying to be inconspicuous. 
It slots something in his chest into the right place. He shifts slightly to let her peer over his shoulder into the empty house; no wife or kids scurrying behind him. It eases some of the tension in her shoulders.
“No trouble,” John says. “What’s got you on my doorstep after hours bringing over supper?”
She’s exquisitely shy, almost nervous when she steps from foot to foot before holding the food out closer to him. He takes it, if only to avoid watching her strain. In his hands, it smells entirely too good; makes his mouth water. His bear huffs in his head. John can’t remember the last time he had a home-cooked meal. Certainly not since well before his mother passed. 
“You seemed like—I saw you come home. You looked dead on your feet, so I thought…well, I’d already made soup, so it wasn’t much trouble.”
“You saw me come home?” he repeats.
“Oh, I, uh—I live next door.”
“That so?”
She flushes prettily, just the slightest deepening of the colour over her cheekbones. “Yeah. Six months now. Moved in just before the summer. Anyway, I, well…sorry if you were in the middle of supper, I wasn’t sure if—I heard from Kate that you’ve been busy, so I thought you might appreciate not having to cook.”
“That’s mighty kind of you,” he says. There’s a pause where neither of them say anything. “Can I—I have, uh, a bowl in the kitchen if you want—”
She holds up her hands at that, taking a step back. “Oh no, sorry, I don’t want to…I don’t mean to intrude. I just thought I’d…you know…friendly neighbour and all.”
“It’s no trouble, really. Come inside.”
“No, I—I really have to get going,” she insists, finally turning away from him and descending back down the stairs. “Enjoy your supper!”
He watches her turn and scurry off back to her house, glancing down back once only to give a little start when she catches him still watching her. His nose twitches when he notices that even with the tupperware stacked in his hands, the distinct sweetness that had been hovering outside his door gradually dissipates in his neighbour’s absence. 
His bear rumbles inside his chest. 
In the mountains, he ruminates on his neighbour’s small kindness. It builds in his chest like a slow burning fire when he stands in the brisk cold and stares down into the valley below. The snow squeaks under his boots on the hike back down. The ache of hunger echoes through him again; he thinks of tupperware offered to him in two soft hands. Next time, he’ll invite her in. 
He’s pleasantly surprised when she comes by again not a few days later, this time bringing along with her a pan filled with berry cobbler, tinfoil crinkling under her fingers when she hands him the entire pan. The next day, she stops by with a jar of homemade apple cider. 
It takes awhile for John to coax her inside. She brushes off his invitations to join him for supper for days before he notices the cracks in her resolve. She lingers on the porch for longer than she should, body oriented towards his house even when she says that she has to go. John considers for all of a few seconds just dragging her inside, but there’s something immensely rewarding in reeling her in slowly. A slow hunt and the promise of a meal so decadent that it leaves his tongue heavy in his mouth.
When she finally concedes, his blood roars hot, the beast in his chest thickly nuzzled under his skin, satisfied. 
She’s skittish in his house. Hardly stays for more than ten minutes the first time he succeeds in getting her in. Just long enough to take a couple bites out of the gingerbread loaf that she’d brought over and he’d cut a few slices off before retracing her steps back to the front door. John holds back the instinctive urge to follow her and trap her in with a hand flat on the door when she tries to open it. It’s better to earn her trust. 
His interest just goes up and up as she continues feeding him throughout the week. Perfect mate keeping his belly full, keeping him nourished after a hard day’s work. She keeps him company on the couch when he invites her over on the weekend, dragging her little socked feet over the carpet and snuggling up on the other side of the couch like he might reach out and grab her. He might.
Part of John can’t believe that he’s been living beside this girl for going on six months and never scented her before. It permeates his house now, baked into the walls and carpet. He wishes sometimes she’d stop by and use his bed for a nap, if only so that he could come home to a bed smelling of her; he’d wrap a firm hand around his cock with the scent of her under his nose and tug himself off with his face pressed to his pillow, imagining her trapped under him, the plush pillows of her ass turned up to let him rut between her thighs. 
Her feeding him and spending time with him is confusing though. It confuses his bear, who associates all those things with mate. It’s nature to want to keep the thing feeding him. 
So he can’t help the way his bear expects her now. When he wakes up in his bed without a smaller body tucked away in his arms, it leaves him foul-tempered, short with his men. Picking up groceries becomes more difficult than ever when he instinctively beelines to her when he walks through the automatic doors, pleasure coiling in his chest at the sight of her staring wide-eyed at him. Always a bit shy, even as it slowly melts from her like old snow. Timidity from a season ago, still frosted over but shrinking. 
He doesn’t stop himself from dragging her into his lap before passing out on the couch after a long day at work, leaving her befuddled and uncertain. His arms don’t let her up though; they keep her pinned to his chest until he wakes back up an hour later, nuzzling the bristles of his beard over the soft skin of her neck and dragging a big palm up the inside of her thigh, seeking out the warmth between her legs even half-asleep.
His hand pauses its upward trajectory when she shifts. He’s slow to come back to consciousness, but far slower to move his hand. Mate, his bear rumbles in his chest when his fingers dig into the clutch of her thighs and John hears her muffle a yip. She should be soft and pliable for him, should let him drag his hand up into the space between her legs that she’s kept hot and tender for his touch. 
John lets her pretend at sleep until he finally moves his hand away, moving to sit up and leaving her curled up on the couch. He goes off to the kitchen to put on the kettle and comes back to find her awake, stammering out an apology for falling asleep. 
“None of that,” he grumbles, setting two mugs down on the coffee table. He sits beside her before she gets the bright idea to get up and leave. 
“Sorry, I didn’t plan on staying this long. I should get back—”
“Someone waiting for you at home?” John interrupts, curt despite himself. 
The idea of her going home to someone instantly aggravates him. Even knowing for a fact that there isn’t a man living in her house doesn’t tamp down the anger. He’s scented the exterior of her house once or twice; John would’ve caught the smell of another man by now if there had ever been one living in her house. He’s held off marking her house with come or piss, but that might have to change if she keeps dangling the possibility of there being another man over his head.
It’s his fault for not marking her yet. The trees in the mountains have been marked up over the years that he’s lived in this town, deep gouges in the bark marking the forest as his territory, but he hasn’t yet rubbed his scent into his mate’s skin. It’s his fault she’s still acting like an unattached sow. 
She hesitates; risks lying to him. He can see it plain on her face. “…No.”
His face softens, eyebrows pulling together sympathetically. “I’m not such bad company, am I? Stay for a little longer—all that food’s gonna go to waste otherwise.”
“I—I guess I can.”
“Brilliant. Drink your tea, honey.”
She picks up her mug and sips it quietly while John shifts her feet into his lap and digs his thumbs into her right sole. He shushes her when she jolts and tries to sit up, digging this thumb harder into the arch of her foot. 
“Enough of that. Back down,” he scolds.
“You, but you shouldn’t—you don’t have to do that,” she stammers, trying to pull her foot away and moaning inadvertently when he digs into a sore spot. Her hand clamps down on her mouth.
“Don’t give me that, aren’t you on your feet all day? And then baking for me after a long shift? It’s the least I can do, honey.”
She’s reluctant at first, but then squeaks again he rubs his thumb over the ball of her foot. Hardly able to deny the truth. It isn’t long until her little squeaks and moans start coming out unbidden, exhaustion opening her up. He can smell her sex leaking if he breathes in deep enough. 
“Promise to stay here and wait until I fix up supper?” he murmurs, keeping his voice low. 
She hums, eyes having slid shut. Without even really moving her lips, she mumbles, “Promise.”
“Good girl.”
Sleep warm, she finally settles into his house like she belongs, like she’ll be spending the long winter here as well. Her scent is as imbued in the couch as his. It’s cinnamon sweet. 
“Why do you even…buy so much food if you aren’t gonna use it?” she asks, drowsy enough that even if he were to respond, there’s a chance she wouldn’t hear it. “You hibernating or something?”
John smiles. “Something like that.”
2K notes · View notes
soapoet · 7 months
Text
What are you like as a spouse?
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requested by anon.
like & rb if it resonates ♡
01.
Shufflemancy: Stay with me by Anson Seabra
As a spouse you are a little territorial. You trust your partner, but everybody else is under your careful scrutiny. You very easily pinpoint weeds in your garden, and pull them out root and stem swiftly. Your spouse can rely on you to be on the look out for all sorts of dangers, big or small. Security is of great importance to you, both regarding your relationship and your loved ones, and yourself. Perhaps less so yourself, as you seem to have an instinct to protect which sometimes overrules your own safety. You could relate to the knight archetype to some extent, the concept of serving and protecting. There is an intensity to your love that is like a fine wine, and simply intoxicating to your partner. You're akin a guard dog; out in public you are an intimidating presence ready to bark and bite should need arise, but behind closed doors your service is paid for in tender love and care and you melt when your partner dotes on you. And your spouse adores this duality in you, dominance and submission merged into one.
You're observant, and pay careful attention to your partner's wants and needs, and this lends itself to both an intuitive understanding and awareness of your partner's feelings and the shifts that occur, and makes you a great gift-giver too. You're also a great example of the "girlfriend effect" (regardless of gender) because you encourage your partner's authentic self expression and help them daringly try new things, style wise but also in general. It is safe for your partner to take leaps of faith in career and other matters that may come with risks, because you stand watch and are always there to catch them should they fall. It's possible that you're a late bloomer, or have a series of tumultuous relationships before finding your person, which leads you to take things slowly, desire clarity, and develop effective communication skills to avoid misunderstandings with your spouse. You have a deep need for emotional support and reassurance, so your spouse is somebody who you can truly trust and feel the ground sturdy and secure beneath your feet in their presence, and find shelter and comfort in their arms when you need it.
For some, the term spouse is used loosely, as formal marriage may not be of interest to you if you have any qualms regarding tradition, or simply prefer the intimacy of privacy. Some could opt for court house marriage with a lowkey get together with loved ones at a later date, and others none, and simply commit as life partners without legalities or traditions taken into consideration. If marriage does occur, it's likely to happen later once career matters are stable.
If you and your partner have children, you are your child's biggest cheerleader and encourage any interests of theirs, fuel their passions and show up to their activities to support them. Strong likelihood of children who are outcasts of some sort, deemed strange by their peers, bullied, could be neurodivergent, queer, or otherwise experience difficulties growing up, which you are uniquely equipped to handle and care for. Some in this group may simply decide to have no children of their own, or consider fostering as an alternative, but could otherwise deal with children, especially the unfortunate, in their community or on a larger scale in society.
Additional details: oddly specific spotify playlists, swords and daggers, rpgs, tarot, history, psychology, the moon, moths, wolves, pirates, red or purple lips, cherries, citrus fruits, birthday dinner, makeovers (self or room idk??), emails, documents, nintendo, tattoos, kuromi, donuts, fairs or theme parks, escape rooms, the nightmare before christmas, wednesday and the addams family, fate: the winx saga, euphoria, purple, chai, scorpio/aries/aquarius/gemini, saturn/mars/moon/lilith, april/march/november/december.
02.
Shufflemancy: This side of paradise by Coyote theory
As a spouse you are a breeze. A gentle caress of the sea blowing through your spouse's hair on the beach. You're a little bit of an old romantic, and may have an affinity with the classics or period dramas. You enjoy simplicity and peace, breaking bread at the kitchen table and quality time simply spent in the vicinity of your dear. Merely cooking together can be an adventure, as can the clean-up. You're attentive and try to be both a good friend and lover to your spouse. Resting your head on their lap and enjoying the silence, the act of nesting behind closed doors appeals to you, but you're partial to little getaways too just the two of you, slipping away somewhere near or far to see what you may find and get up to.
Physical closeness is important to you, but it is not possessive, suffocating, or clingy, but gentle and warm like a shelter from the storm. Your marriage is airy and light, and even the ceremony that got you to this point may be very cozy and intimate, invites sparce and spaces dimly lit. It's a very solitary life that you lead, with little socialising outside your little bubble. Contact seems restricted to only family and a couple of long-time friends and little else. You could even choose to live in the countryside or farther from the hustle and bustle of lively cities.
Should you have children, you are a very involved parent, as is your spouse. Messes are happy accidents and you emphasise comfort and peace in your child, and encourage them to make good friends, and you may very well come to consider your children's friends bonus children who can trust you as safe adults when they have nowhere else to turn to. Neither of you are very hard on your children, and do not mind if they don't succeed at everything so long as they try and have direction all within themselves. You're forgiving and patient, both with your spouse and children. You would do particularly well raising a child of the opposite sex, masculines doing well at raising feminines and vice versa.
You may take longer to feel ready to date in general, or due to circumstances or personal issues have a delay in romance, but once you do stumble upon love, commitment is sure and stable and long-lasting. Many are likely to marry their first love or first serious partner, and others could experience the classic friends to lovers arc that slowly blossoms but then remains in bloom forever if cared for.
Additional details: paper planes, strategy and simulation games, chess, archeology, history, cartography, geography, museums, genealogy, family events (dinners, birthdays, weddings, baby showers, funerals), babysitting, cats and mice, twitch, youtube, memes, news, acoustic guitar, green, lotus flowers, blankets, sweet tea, conventions, comics, anime, cartoons, arts and crafts, sticks and stones, seaside, countryside, camping, hiking, road signs, numbers, dirt roads, pine trees, virgo/aquarius/cancer/libra, mars/sun/neptune/ascendant, january/march/july/september.
03.
Shufflemancy: Somebody to you by BANNERS
As a spouse you are quite the little ray of sunshine, but also the sudden gust of winds of change. You are collaborative, and may serve as either the artist or the muse. Both, perhaps, as there is inspiration being exchanged between you and your spouse like sparkling water shared between two cups, clear and fizzy, as sharp as it is delightful and refreshing. You're enthusiastic and cheer your spouse on, loud and proud, supporting them in their trials and assure they have your arms to run into when they return with their accolades and treasures. You may easily get flustered, and try to avenge your spouse by attempts to charm and woo them in return, even if just to wipe the smug smile off their face as their bask in the glory of making your little heart flutter.
You may be a little needy, or quick to feel discouraged, but you're just as easily brought back to your feet with kind and reassuring words and helpful hands. You try your best to make yourself useful even in situations that are new to you, especially if your partner could use the help. You're able to laugh at yourself, but also communicate when the stumble actually hurt so that your spouse can kiss it all better. Regardless of your age, you will retain a youthful air about you, which will keep things interesting as you always find new adventures and things to share.
If you have children, you'll let them grow in whichever direction they best find the sun and rain to bloom in their time and their way. You love your freedom, and want to bestow it upon your child too, who will grow up to be very close with you and consider you a great friend and trusted confidante with whom they may share all their joys and sorrows without judgement. Some of you may not have children and instead raise fur babies, travel the world with your spouse, or create an alternative kind of family of misfits and kindred spirits amongst your peers.
You are very bubbly and sociable, and eagerly introduce your partner to your friends and make merry with theirs. You could really rejoice in the merging of your individual friend groups for the sake of building a community to call home. You enjoy exchaning favours, and have the mindset and desire of managing tasks between both you and your spouse and your community so that different strengths get utilised to combat defeat should somebody have to face big challenges they're not equipped to handle. So, though you may be called chaotic from time to time, you're still a good taskmaster and collaborator, who does not keep score, and manage your spouse and groups of people well even though things aren't colour coded and organised from A to Z.
Additional details: daydreaming, dream journals, streaming, paperwork, paint, coffee stains, red and blue, strawberries, avocado, live chat, chopsticks, van or camper or truck, packages, identity crisis, illness/medicine, learning, waiting, theatre, pets, money, siblings or cousins, slurpees, sushi, suburbs, small towns, interviews, phone calls, sneakers, broken windows, kpop and jpop, manga or manhwa, lore, toys, polar bears or bears in general, empty playgrounds, twitter/x, instagram, lost and found, wooden trinkets, herbs. capricorn/sagittarius/leo/pisces, jupiter/venus/uranus/vesta/chiron, march/june/august/october.
04.
Shufflemancy: Dandelions by Ruth B.
As a spouse you seem to be a jack of all trades, the scales of justice perfectly balanced. Your diligence and the ease at which you tackle tasks, the perseverance you show despite life's challenges, and how you always get back up again when you get knocked down, all makes you a wonderful partner. You are goal-oriented, but know when to slow down and relax. You push your partner to chase their dreams, but know not to push too hard and when to offer up comfort and quiet reassurance instead.
You may have a little bit of a saviour complex, as you pride yourself in both your ability to help and your emotional intelligence. You are patient, and know that in life there is no such thing as a one-size-fits-all, and you're uniquely able and willing to find missing pieces of puzzles so that everybody finds what works for them, and will be a healing presence to your spouse especially. Your spouse finds you to be a rock, but let's not kid ourselves and pretend you don't melt like butter when they pull you close and tell you to relax, and lull you to sleep with a heartbeat and fingers running through your hair. Your spouse is well aware of how hard you work and how heavy the burdens on your shoulders sometimes become, and insist that you are no Atlas, at least not in the sanctuary you call home where you may rest and recharge.
Should you have children together, you may settle into traditional or otherwise clearly defined roles and assure neither of you take on too much and both get to be involved in the life of your children to an equal extent. You're likely the problem solver and the one to help with the homework, and deeply encourage active and social pursuits to ensure your children grow up healthy and experience relationships with people of all walks of life. With the combination of you and your spouse, your children are likely to grow up gentle but quick to defend the underdogs and fight injustice. Assuring your children have access to options and opportunities as well as a safety net to fall back on should it be needed is something you will both make sure of. Note that this is the only group I have no alternatives for and sense no absence of children, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ if you really do not want children, take double or triple the precautions.
You may enjoy home improvement or possibly have either you or your spouse working from home. You delegate responsibilities fairly and make consistent efforts to show your spouse your care and affection, especially through acts of service and the kindest of words when they are at their lowest. Though you are responsible and often do things by the book, there is a little streak of mischief and wanderlust that I sense, which keeps things interesting, making you a balance between homebody and explorer. You may have great banter with your spouse and frequently tease each other.
Additional details: car rides, crying, nerves, vhs tapes, siblings, young people, writing and rewriting, praise, headbands, flannels, glasses, family issues, guardian angels, cleaning, mermaids, rodents, deer, letters, arguments, flowers, office (work or the show idk), radio station, static, noise, real estate, architecture, mushrooms, pickles, salads, sleepless nights, muscle pain (or strain), sleepless nights, sleeping on the couch, glasses, hair cuts, lilies and elderflowers, soap, hugs and hand holding, patience, reluctance, overcoming fear, hearing music from another room, virgo/cancer/capricorn/aquarius, pluto/sun/venus/juno/union, june/august/october/november.
05.
Shufflemancy: Slow dancing by Aly & AJ
As a spouse you like to be in charge, or wear the pants, so to speak. Somebody has to tell the waiter your spouse asked for no pickles, right? Though you have a dominant energy about you, you are very nurturing and full of love and care and can be surprisingly sensitive emotionally. You like to stay on top of things and have things to do, places to be, and you could serve as something of a secretary in your relationship. Your spouse can always rely on you to know what to do and to get the Christmas cards sent out on time. You have a taste for the finer things in life and enjoy indulging in these together with your spouse. You likely introduce your spouse to many new things, be it music, literature, politics, foods, or some lifestyle and habits you maintain.
You revel in the quality time spent with your spouse, though you're independent and encouraging of them living their life separate from yours too whilst you engage with your own endeavours. You are secure and loyal, and give your spouse no reason to doubt your commitment and you speak as highly of them as they of you, so shenanigans and misfortunes stay at bay. You may have only few but close friends, but keep them for life and they enjoy the company of your spouse. You may frequently host dinner parties or other intimate get togethers in your home with the few privileged to know the two of you.
As a parent you would raise well-mannered and good children, to whom you would teach many of your own talents and push them to hone and master their own abilities and take both their interests and responsibilities seriously. You have a close bond with children even if you do not have them, which for many may be the case, and you could instead together with your partner be very involved with the children of your friends or family and serve as godparents or the cool aunts/uncles. You may still teach these children valuable lessons and be an important adult figure in their lives, and possibly lend your talents to teach them new skills.
You may also work with your spouse, be it through a mutual or related field, literally sharing the same workplace, or by joining up to start a business together or works as collaborators on separate passion projects. You're highly encouraging of them and push them to pursue their goals and even wildest dreams because with you in their corner there aren't many places in the world they couldn't go.
Additional details: co-op games, cookbooks, bullet journals, weddings, calendars and memos, perfect timing, awkwardness, dogs and canines in general, horses, rapunzel, children, phone calls, electric guitars, drums, men and fathers, streetlights, stalking, power outages, doctor's appointments, pedagogy or social work, education/school, stage fright, long distance travel, reunions, road trips, ice cream, spicy food, alcohol, orange and pink, pearls, grapefruits and blood oranges, hot chocolate, lgbt+, anxiety or depression, archery, sleepovers, libra/taurus/leo/cancer, mars/mercury/pluto/descendant, april/may/october/december.
06.
Shufflemancy: Comethru by Jeremy Zucker
As a spouse you are a natural in many ways, even, or especially if, you worry that you aren't. To your spouse you are a very nurturing and compassionate, gentle lover, who is intuitive and always seems to know the right words that they need to hear or the moment to hug them from behind and press your head against their tense and tired back. You dedicate yourself to being a source of light to your spouse, and tend to be quite romantic, albeit you get shy and blush even decades into the marriage when they return the sentiment. You learn quickly to express boundaries and communicate your needs to your partner if that has been a struggle in your past as they make a big effort to make sure you make your voice heard. You carefully consider their feelings, as they consider yours. You could as a couple have an almost telepathic connection, an inherent understanding and the blue print of each other's soul, knowing each twitch and micro-expression to know when the other requires assistance or wishes to leave a situation, etc.
You may find the role of a homemaker ideal, though you aren't without your own ambitions and occupational ideals. You could for a time be a stay-at-home spouse, or parent, but simultaneously engage with your own projects and end up working from home. You really make home feel like home, and your spouse finds relief and peace every time they return home. You have an eye for aesthetics and a way to make any space feel cozy, inviting, warm, and comfortable. Even though you are more of a homebody and like the solitude, your friends may rejoice in their visits and feel at home in your house and you could occasionally agree to host bigger holidays in your home, because really, nobody does Christmas like you do.
You are very clever and learn quickly, and your curiosity takes you on quite a few adventures in just one afternoon, and you enthusiastically share these wonders with your spouse and coax out their own adventurous and speculative side. You could spend hours talking and never seem to run out of things to speak of, but also find comfort in enjoying the silence. You're affectionate and like to be close to your partner, but eventually slip away as your mind begins to wander and take you in different directions. You have a youthful and ever-curious energy that your spouse delights in.
As a parent you would truly dedicate yourself to parenthood and rejoice in even the little steps and achievements of your little ones. You are doting, but not a doormat and find that your children trust and respect you without being told or taught to. You encourage your children to think for themselves because you value logic as much as feelings. Good reasoning skills and the ability to judge things on a case by case basis is something you will instill in your children. Your children are likely to grow up very independent and just the right balance of kind and clever to be an asset to society. Both you and your spouse share a deep distaste for the state of the world and are dedicated to raising children who know wrong from right and don't blindly follow anyone or anything and have the wires between head and heart connected. You and your spouse may both do a lot to improve your community and work to eventually leave the world better than how you found it.
Additional details: tears, keys, incoming text messages, psychiatry, therapy, home, teaching or writing, good luck, headaches, cramps, horror movies, haunted side of youtube/tiktok, conspiracy theories, stim toys, minecraft, rabbits, birds, cats, hoodies, grey and blue, energy drinks, vitamin water, winning, brownies, pancakes, soup, winnie the pooh, lion king, 2000s cartoons/music, fuzzy socks, beaded curtains or string lights, green or hazel eyes, candles, intuition, dust, sleet or snow, cold/grey/dreary weather, iron and vitamin d deficiency, water colours, astrology, vanilla or coconut scent, bubble baths, gemini/cancer/virgo/scorpio/libra, jupiter/neptune/moon/lunar nodes, february/may/june/october.
2K notes · View notes
worldsewage · 2 months
Note
Hehe may I ask about evil Callie?
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(The evil/brainwashed) Callie here functions a bit differently… as I also use her to explore what exactly mud mouths are… and the octarian’s relationship with their ally, Salmonids…
Explanation under the cut. 🚧
Due to constrained relations between them and the other main dominating species— (salmonid/octarian vs inklings)— most Inklings, namely younger generations, are more desperate to fix and mend the relationship.
(There is plenty more to this! But I don’t want to make this come across as far more convoluted than it needs to be, so here have this for now:📒)
Octavio contacted Callie directly, albeit in secret, telling her that he has plans that would be a step forward in ending the tension between the Inklings and Octarian-Salmonid groups. What he had introduced was a new type of “ink” that would make their species “salmonid friendly”, and he wanted Callie to be the one to be the first public appearance with this new Ink in hopes to reach a wider audience…
Most of that isn’t true— but to Callie— who is a direct descendant of a war leader, was raised as an agent, and lives in a fairly dangerous city zone that floods, that sounded like a better step towards a better life, and she went for it.
This ink is known as MUD— and this “ink” isn’t technically ink at all, as mentioned in a previous post, most inks are a synthetic toxic poison, designed for warfare, but this ink on the contrary, wasn't designed by Inkfish, it was designed by Salmonids.
MUD is a slimy corrosive ink designed to rival Inkfish’s ink, namely in salmon runs and Ink Wasted territories, one that blends into the grounds and spreads out quickly and efficiently much like Inkfish ink, but one that corrodes Inklings by absorbing into them, and leaves salmonids completely safe from any burning effects.
The Octarian were the ones tasked with creating this new bio-weapon, as an added benefit being it would not affect their species, (they would be safe from it regardless, considering Salmon-Runs are an Inkling exclusive event, and Octolings were surprised when they learned about them.)
They tried different methods of testing it, and ultimately, the project failed— Mud uses both Salmonid and Inkling DNA in its creation, and when Mud was being developed, it melted Salmonids like Ink typically does due to its hyper-corrosive nature, but because it carried Inkling + Salmonid DNA, the salmonid’s skin would attempt to mimic the properties of inklings and constantly try to reconstruct itself into the “swim” form, which made Salmonids a walking (or rather, squirming) sludge, these monsters became known as MUDMOUTHS, and are not truly considered alive, since they run exclusively on the Running Instinct that exists in Salmonid DNA.
And in turn, when the ink was absorbed into Inklings— the previously noted “running instinct” would have an almost Kraken-Esque affect on inklings before corroding and splatting them.
The running instinct would work as intended, everything they eat immediately converts to growth in preparation for an arduous journey, they’re extremely aggressive, and they have a desire to return to the salmonid birthplace.
Mud would splat inklings upon prolonged contact, but Inklings who were test subjects for mud were slowly injected with Mud over a course of time. These subjects were disoriented and had a sort of “positive” aggressive attitude that didn’t falter even in the face of family or friends.
They are easy to persuade and it’s unclear if this is due to the pain of getting the ink-content in their bodies replaced by this synthetic fake-ink, or if the running instinct muddles their thoughts. It’s probably a healthy mix of both.
Dj Octavio, kept Callie by his side, since in her current state her mind would be too fogged up to dispute or make sense of what he’s making her do.
He planned on using Callie to stir up trouble in Inkopolis solely for the sake of rising tension. Octavio is constantly searching for reasons to make Inkling’s an enemy in the eyes of everyone who sees them, and painting Callie— a well known public figure; a known descendant of Captain Cuttlefish— as vicious would do wonders for allowing most people to view the Octarian as a force that would more desirably be backed up, it would reinforce their armies. And make them overall stronger if people felt they had reason to target Inklings.
He didn’t get this far due to Agent Four’s interference.
But, he got to accomplish many theft missions using Callie— which included robbing Inkopolis of some of the Zapfish Generators, which are giant machines that are powered thanks to the Zapfish, and thanks to the Zap-Ink— ⤵️
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(Above image is from here) — Octavio was able to use said generators to restore power to many of the war-affected bio-domes that have been obsolete for decades, WITHOUT the need for a Zapfish.
But his reasoning can still be dumbed down to a petty move on Octavio’s part— who despite having a safer ground in the domes due to a good trade relationship with Salmonids and a vast space away from water— he still feels bitter about losing the remaining lands. And because of this the Octarian are plenty more war driven, and they are more likely to easily fall to the fervor of these schemes and battles.
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remlionheart · 25 days
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Split Decision
* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *
*:・゚✧*:・゚ i woke up this morning w a slutty, feral, urgent need for some soukoku x fem!reader smut and this fic just kinda poured out of me (literally), 3.7k words. porn with a plot. (hope u like it nasty) you're an intern, ending your last day in Yokohama when you're approached at the hotel bar by two men who have one very pressing question for you: red or white wine? i was melting into an actual puddle writing this so lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ (and as alwaaayysss, thank u to the loml @bratbby333 for proofreading and being just as fucking pumped for this to come out as i was ♡) *:・゚✧*:・゚
You were tired, exhausted after a day filled with meetings that you barely contributed anything to. You were grateful for your internship, happy that it held the promise of a job right after graduation but being in Yokohama for the last two days had been a bit lackluster.
You sat at the bar of your hotel with lazy, muffled jazz music dancing around you as you fiddled with the straw in your empty cocktail glass.
The trip itself hadn't been all bad. The days were long, but you'd managed to make the most of your nights. The firm you were interning for was gracious enough to make it an all-expenses paid trip and you'd definitely taken full advantage of that over the last week.
You'd spent your nights in the most upscale restaurants the city had to offer, taking yourself on little dates to pass the time. You'd found yourself sitting alongside powerful businessmen and prominent executives that made you feel important even though you were still very much on the outskirts of their social circles. You had been a fly on the wall, quietly observing a world that you could only hope to one day be a part of.
It'd been a learning experience if nothing else. A secret glimpse into how rich men behaved when they thought no one was watching. There was something intoxicating about it all. Something that made you want to try harder when you got back home. You were determined to have this sort of life for yourself one day and you would.
That's what made being responsible tonight all the more important. Your flight back home was set to leave at 6 am. Your bags were already packed and waiting for you in your room. As tempting as it was to venture out into the city again, you needed to be well-rested and level-headed when you woke up tomorrow. So, you'd kept your promise to yourself and settled on slipping into your last clean black dress and grabbing a few drinks at the hotel bar to end your makeshift vacation.
Your legs dangled from your stool, the strap of your dress slipping down your arm as you yawned. The bar had been mostly vacant all night. People passing by, but never actually staying for more than one drink. The vintage grandfather clock at the corner of the room watched you tauntingly, another sway of its heavy arms indicating that it was nearing midnight.
You knew it was time to head back. Your hand reached out to bell for the bartender when two opposing, but equally powerful drinks were suddenly placed at either side of you.
A deep, rich red wine on your left and a deceptively alluring white wine on your right. Your eyes hesitantly drifted between the two men that were now occupying the seats next to you, the warmth of their bodies radiating off of them as they sized you up.
"Which one will it be, angel?" His voice was like velvet, a dangerous smirk creeping across his face as his brown eyes met you. His partially bandaged fingertips slowly pushed the Chardonnay towards you. "You look like a woman of good taste. Honestly, I think you'd like this one much better."
A gloved hand rested on the small of your back, gently turning you around to face him instead. His disheveled red hair and azure gaze were hard to ignore as he nudged the Cabernet closer to you. "Tch, you're too pretty for that cheap shit." He smirked. "Besides, I bet you're wantin' something that would hit way deeper than that, right?"
Your breath was suddenly lodged in your throat, an ache burning between your legs at the sheer shamelessness of it all.
The brunette's smile was piercing, his stare slicing into the man on your left as he let out a low laugh. "You've always had quite the imagination, haven't you Chuuya?" His eyes maintained the same sharpness, dragging back to yours with fervor. "I think what she really needs is something that would leave her begging for more and that's not something that measly little sweet red of yours would do."
The air between the three of you was suddenly suffocating.
You crossed one leg over the other, finding yourself actually having to clench while they carried on with their salaciously threatening banter. Their fingers roaming along your back and the top of your hand. Both inching closer and closer, still spilling out corrupt little nothings about which one would taste better going down your throat and which one would fill you up until there was no more room left.
You needed to be in bed. You needed to keep your wits about you. You needed to tell them both that you didn't have time for this, but your insides were on fire the harder they fought over you.
After being ignored at every meeting you'd gone to this week and being nothing more than a wallflower at the dinner parties you'd attended, having two admittedly depraved but attractive men competing over you like this was enough to make you forget about trivial things like time and responsibilities.
They were still going on. Still gently petting and praising you while their insults towards each other grew heavier and headier.
Your blood rushed through your veins as you looked down at the contrasting wines sitting in front of you. You knew the minute that you took a sip of either, your fate would be sealed for the night. You'd be declaring yourself to one of them. The only smart option you had would be to push both drinks aside, to choose yourself, and to leave the two of them to carry on with their degenerate rivalry with the next unsuspecting girl that waltzed in here.
But you weren't going to settle for either.
As you glanced between them, it dawned on you that there was an alternate, much more menacing 4th option at your disposal.
Their voices came to a pause when they noticed your hand finally raise, hovering directly in the center of the two glasses. Your eyes danced from the brunette back to Chuuya, a hazy smile pulling at the corner of your mouth despite the fact that your heart felt like it was capable of ripping straight through your chest at any given second.
You rested your palm over both, letting your middle finger slide into the Cabernet and your index finger slide into the Chardonnay in perfect unison.
The tension was palpable as they watched you slowly pull out and bring them to your lips. You cocked your head to the side, your tongue generously gliding against the mixture of red and white before you brought them all the way into your mouth, spit slightly dribbling down your chin while you looked between the two men.
A smile cut across your face as you noticed the two sets of blown out pupils staring back at you. "Does that answer your question?"
"No," Chuuya was the first to break the silence. "No fuckin' way am I letting that asshole anywhere near the same room as us."
But it only seemed to pique the brunette's interest more.
A grin that could rival that of the devil's began to pull at the corner of his mouth. "Oh c'mon, Chuuya. You're really gonna deny this angel what she wants?"
"Don't start with me, Dazai." he snarled, his eyes softening a bit when they reached yours. "Look, I'd love to fuck you, but -"
Dazai took full advantage of the redhead's decision to opt out, spinning your barstool towards him so that your back was abruptly facing Chuuya before he could even finish his sentence. "Well," he smirked with a dangerous sense of wit in his voice. "Guess that just leaves us then."
"Wait a minute, that's not how this works!" Your chair was once again being flung in the opposite direction. A gloved hand gently cupping yours as he tried to reason with you. "You're gorgeous, y'know that, right? Even if you end up leavin' by yourself, I promise it'd still be better than endin' up with that mackerel over there."
It should've been an insult. In fact, you were certain that it was an insult, but for some deranged reason, it made Dazai all the more persistent to get you what you had originally asked for.
"Okaaay, okaayy." He conceded as he stood up. "There's no need for petty nicknames. If you're too self-conscious to share a beautiful woman's body with me, that's all you have to say."
"Self-conscious?" The edge in Chuuya's tone only gave Dazai what he wanted. "I'm not self-conscious, you arrogant bastard. I just don't trust you."
Dazai leaned into your ear, his hand shielding his mouth though his voice was far from a whisper. "It's because of his height, I'm afraid. Quite sad really."
"Alright, cut the shit." It was enough to finally bring the redhead to his feet.
He stood up, grabbing your hand to help you off your chair, eyes now locked firmly with yours. "You really want us to fuck you?" He asked, completely ignoring the absolutely vile smirk Dazai was sporting.
A mix of fear and arousal pooled between your thighs as you realized that this was your one chance to back out.
You looked between the two of them one last time before promptly grabbing the drinks that were left on the counter and knocking them both back one right after the other.
"My room or yours?" You asked.
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The three of you had ended up in Chuuya's suite which was at least three times the size of your room. It was lofty, decorated with high-rise windows that were covered by thick, black privacy curtains. His king-sized bed made up in pristine white sheets that you feared would soon be ripped to shreds with the way the two of them could barely share the same elevator without almost killing each other, let alone share you.
Chuuya took off his gloves and hung his coat in the closest next to Dazai's as you slipped out of your heels and left them by the door. Your heart was suddenly in your throat now that you were actually here.
You were still by the entryway, not entirely sure how this was going to start while Chuuya went around and began dimming the lights, making a snide comment about how the less he had to see of Dazai, the better. The brunette just smirked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, motioning for you to join him.
He spread his legs, lightly guiding you to stand in front of him as he kissed the back of your hand. His brown eyes trailed over you intently, his slender fingers tracing along the curve of your hip. "No need to be nervous," he whispered, tangling his free hand into yours.
There was something so tantalizing about the way he was looking at you. Eager but thorough, like he wanted to memorize every single inch of you. "See how pretty she is, Chuuya?"
You felt him approach you from behind, his calloused hands holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail while his breath fanned across the top of your shoulder. "Care if I unzip this?" he asked, his lips pressing softly against the side of your neck as you nodded. He continued to kiss and nip at you, carefully dragging the zipper down your spine before letting it fall to the floor.
"Fuck."
It was perhaps the one thing that they'd agreed on all night.
Dazai had the full-frontal view of you and Chuuya had the back. You were on full display for them both due to the fact that you'd opted for no bra or panties when you'd left your room earlier, thinking that you'd be coming straight back anyway. What a lie that had turned out to be.
Dazai's hand roamed along your stomach, goosebumps dancing across your skin as his fingertips dipped a bit lower. Chuuya's mouth was still on the nape of your neck, his grip tightening around your hips, drawing the poutiest little whimpers out of you.
"And to think you almost made us pass this up." Dazai taunted. "That would've been suuuch a shame."
"Shut up." Chuuya grunted, pulling you closer so that your ass was flushed perfectly against him. Your back arched feeling how hard he was, another little noise you couldn't quite control escaping you.
Dazai raised an eyebrow at this, realizing how easy it was to make you squirm.
"Oh, our girl's sensitive, isn't she?" He smirked, his fingers making their way to your center, just barely touching the outside of your folds. "Hmm," He hummed, surveying your desperate, dripping cunt. "What kind of sounds do you think she'll make if I do this?"
His finger ran along your clit, only giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation before he immediately plunged it inside of you.
"Nngh ~!" You whined, ramming yourself further into Chuuya's bulge. He held you steady, stuck somewhere between severely hating that Dazai had made you moan like that and fucking loving that you did it while grinding against him.
"Aw, look at that. I think she likes you, Chuuya." Dazai mocked, sliding into you again without warning, jealousy washing over him at how you were holding onto the redhead for support.
He went deeper, adding in another finger, to redirect your attention down to him as you mewled. "Feel good, angel?" he asked through heavy lashes.
You nodded back at him so pitifully, it made him groan, rubbing his thumb against your clit as his other two digits continued their assault on you.
You felt Chuuya undoing his belt behind you, his pants quietly dropping to the ground.
"You're doing so good," he praised into the softness of your neck, stroking himself with one hand and palming at your chest with the other. Squeezing a nipple between his fingers as you filled the room with more heavenly noises. "Think you can do me a favor, baby?" His voice felt like blissful static against the shell of your ear.
"M -" you struggled, your eyes nearly crossing at Dazai relentlessly hitting your g-spot. "Mhmmm." you finally managed.
"Can you bend over f'me?"
You tried your best to comply, but Dazai wasn't making it easy. In fact, he was making it impossible. Every time you tried to move, he'd go deeper, practically pulling you towards him from the inside with the curl of his long fingers.
Your vision was blurry, your body forgetting how to move altogether as the two men fought over you like you were a toy that they were willing to break in half as long as it meant the other person couldn't have it anymore.
"I -" you whined, noticing the absolutely feral smirk spread across Dazai's face. "I'm gonna - fuck, I can't -"
As much as Chuuya wanted to murder him for making you cum first, he knew his turn was next and he was going to fuck you into oblivion. "I've got you." he breathed, still playing with your nipple and holding you in place. "You're okay, baby. Let it out. Oh, just like that. Good fuckin' girl."
Dazai panted as you soaked his fingers, greedily trying to draw another one out of you before Chuuya intervened. "Alright, enough." he said, carefully pulling you away from him. "Here." he said, guiding you so that your ass was arched up for him and your face was on the mattress.
He was just about to put it in when Dazai stopped him, swiftly wriggling himself out of his pants before sitting on the edge of the bed again and placing your head above his dick.
Chuuya ran a frustrated hand over his face, the last fucking thing he wanted to see was your pretty mouth wrapped around Dazai while he was inside of you, but he knew he didn't have a choice.
"Be easy on her," he warned him.
You looked up at Dazai with glazed over eyes as he smiled down at you, proud of his work. "You know I wouldn't hurt you, right angel?"
Your pussy throbbed at the way he was able to make such a reassuring question feel so sinister.
His cock was long and thick and you were quickly realizing just how hard it was going to be to not choke on it. You started off slow, letting him tangle his hand into your hair as you lolled your tongue out and pressed it against him.
"Oh, fuck." Dazai groaned watching you make your way up to his tip, graciously opening your mouth wider to accommodate him.
Chuuya was wildly annoyed but not at all surprised at how vocal Dazai was. He blocked it out by rubbing his tip between your folds, reeling in the way your back arched for him as he softly massaged your abused little clit.
You were moaning, doing your best not to lose your concentration from how intoxicatingly tender Chuuya was handling you.
Whereas Dazai had practically bullied an orgasm out of you, Chuuya was prepared to play the long game. He'd fuck you slow and deep for hours if that's what you wanted. He was determined to make you feel so good you wouldn't be able to remember any other words besides his name.
Once he was satisfied with how wet both of you were from your cum, Chuuya lined himself up with your entrance. "You ready baby?"
"Y - yes." You struggled, Dazai only letting you come up for air for a second before your head was promptly pushed back down again.
You whimpered, completely forgetting what you were doing when Chuuya entered you. His cock stretching you out more than you knew you were capable of. "Oh - mygod." You choked out, eyes pleading as you looked back at Dazai.
Surprisingly, he wasn't jealous. Wasn't instantly shoving your head back down to get you to focus on him. He was in a euphoric daze seeing how fucked-out you looked. Your eyes were full-on watering, your pussy wrapped so tight and snug around Chuuya.
Dazai's grip in your hair lightened, pulling you up but only so he could watch you from a better angle. He held your head in one hand and began stroking himself with the other. "Oh, angel. You love being fucked like that, don't you?"
You nodded pathetically, completely overstimulated by the feeling of Chuuya pounding into you and the beautiful sight of Dazai jerking himself off to you getting railed. "Say it." He smirked. "Use your words."
Chuuya groaned, it was the first time all night that he wasn't tuning Dazai out. His hips thrusted into you harder as you whined. "I - love." Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at how deep Chuuya suddenly was. "I love - it." You cried out. "I love it so fu - cking much."
Chuuya wasn't sure if Dazai was trying to hurt or help him by coaxing such depraved things out of you, but he was lost in the sound of your moans.
Your legs began to shake, your cunt pulsating as Chuuya's tip knocked against your cervix. "I -" your head shook, you felt like you were going to pass out. "I can't - s'too much, I'm gonna -"
"Let me feel it, baby." It was almost more of a beg than a command. "Let me feel that pretty pussy soak my cock."
Dazai's breathing hitched in his throat watching the two of you. The tears that were spilling down your pretty face and the guttural noises you were forcing out of the redhead so effortlessly. The way neither one of you were coherent anymore, too lost in the way your bodies were aching for one another to know anything else.
Dazai wasn't sure why it was doing this to him. Wasn't sure why he couldn't stop himself, but just as you started to cum, he did too. He shoved your mouth back around him, reveling in the shock and pleasure and absolute awe on your face as you swallowed every last drop he shot into your mouth.
Your body felt like it was convulsing. The three of you had somehow all managed to reach your climax in perfect, lewd, synchronicity. Dazai's cum was pooling down your chin while Chuuya filled you up from behind. A combination of both of your fluids mixing together and then squirting out of you when he finally pulled out with a heavy, "Oh, FUCK."
You collapsed into Dazai's lap, your legs refusing to hold you. Chuuya helped pull you up onto the bed as the three of you fell into the mattress with a thud. You laid in the middle of them, your head rested peacefully against Dazai's chest as you tried to stop the room from spinning.
"And you told me to go easy on her." Dazai mused, running his fingers through your hair.
Chuuya rolled over on his side, wrapping his arm around your waist as he placed a kiss on the back of your neck. "'Least I didn't get off watching her get railed by another dude." he sneered.
"Yeah, you're right." Dazai tsked, "Only thing that could've made it better is if it was by a taller man."
"Dazai, I swear to god -"
But their bickering came to a quick end when you began to shift against them.
"Hey," you mumbled dreamily, causing both of them to immediately revert back to petting you and leaving light kisses along your skin. "Could you shut the fuck up? I've gotta be up at 5 tomorrow to catch my flight."
Chuuya smirked and set an alarm on his phone. Truthfully, he was willing to let you talk to him however you wanted with what you'd done to him tonight.
He reluctantly pulled the comforter up over the three of you. As much as he didn't want Dazai in his room for another minute, you looked too content to move.
You had never felt more safe or secure than you did being smushed between the two of them. Their words were hazy as you began to doze off, two sets of strong arms wrapped around you.
"Y'know, I think I'll kinda miss her." Chuuya breathed.
"Me too," Dazai smiled, looking down at you. "She's our girl."
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lady-ashfade · 8 months
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Mates By Fate
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Various Hybrid!Characters x Human!Fem!Reader.
Plot: The adoption center is filled with many different hybrids from all sorts. But when one gets a whiff of your scent that they can’t help but get excited to see you.
Characters: Rabbit!Izuku midoriya, Wolf!Katsuki Bakugo, Dog!Eijiro Kirishima, Cat!Shoto Todoroki
Warnings: quick adoption, licking, love at first sight, mention of dark past, not much.
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Rabbit! Izuku Midoriya
The building was filled with all types of noises, from barks to meows, even some growls. Some hybrids were out playing and doing their own things, some playing in groups outside or maybe they enjoyed their own company. Izuku was watching a movie that had come on just in time for his break. All hybrids get a break from the others to focus on themselves if needed, and he decided to watch his favorite movie. Super Hybrid: All might. Oh, how he adored the movie and the man it was about. His room filled with decorations of Allmight himself, posters on every wall.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off the screen when the scene came on. Allmight fighting a bad guy, his tail smacking him around from place to place. It was like watching it for the first time, he was on the edge of his seat cheering at the screen for his hero. Not much could get his attention away from this movie, so when a scent came into his nose it peaked his interest. What was that smell? So sweet, soft yet bold, how could something smell so perfect? His flappy ears stood up and his attention drew to the hallway where his door was cracked open. Grabbing the remote be paused the movie and walked to the door.
He poked his head out slowly to see what was going on and if he could find the source of the smell. Then he saw the owner of the adoption center in the middle of the hallway, then a woman standing next to her about three doors down. A hybrid with droopy ears likes his but brown, the hybrid rubbed her head against the new woman’s hand as she smiled. When he saw you, he felt the world crash onto him with a kick to the chest.
Mate.
The words rang through his head and made his body tense up at the thought of having you in his life. But, he couldn’t have a mate? And not someone as pretty as you? He cheeks heated up while staring at you with wide eyes frozen in the doorway to his room. He could hear your conversation but didn’t truly listen, the words sounding like muffles to him. But a few seconds later your head turned when the owner said something and you looked right at him.
He yelps and slips back into his room quickly from being caught and your attention. His heart raced as fast as it could go as he panicked over every detail. Did you really see him? Was he imagining you here? What if this was a dream and he’d wake up mateless again? What if you don’t want him as a mate anyway? So many questions ran through his speedy head and made him panic.
“Izuku,” the old woman’s sweet voice called him out of his thoughts as she walked into the open room. “We have a visitor, like to meet them?” Your frame shuffled into the room and waved softly, the smile on your lips look like heaven. All he could do is stare and mumble nervously with words you couldn’t understand.
“He’s shy, but he’s a good hybrid to have around.” You nodded and reached into your pocket and his attention calmed down at the other scent he loved. Treats. A brown little heart shaped treat rest in your hands and pushed it towards him. “Hello, Izuku. My names Y/n.” The name engraved itself into his brain. The excitement finally washed over him and shot throughout his body, making him so happy that his leg started to tap and take the treat into his mouth.
He was so happy as he chew and you watched his nose crinkle with each bite, his happy feet bouncing. You giggled at the sight, he was your favorite by far. “I’ll let you have some time with him, seeing as he’s your perfect match. I shall be just outside with the other hybrids, call if you need anything.” She bowed and walked out the room.
You look at izuku and a nervous smile spread your face as he inched closer, no threatening gestures but with a curious look. His noses sniffed around your hand and up your wrists, he looked so focused. Then he nudged his faces across it like he was petting himself and your heart exploded. He looked so happy and relaxed with your touch.
“Mate.” He muttered and you froze up. Did he say that or was it a mistake…Mate? That’s interesting but you can’t help but feel like it was right. “Tell me, do you want me to take you home?” He jumped up and hugged your leg and you almost fell. Laughing you reach down to pet this hair.
He was interesting, he couldn’t get himself off of you. But he was perfectly sweet.
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Wolf! Katsuki Bakugo
Katsuki is wasn’t one for social interaction, especially with new people he had just meet. Whenever someone came to look at the hybrids he wouldn’t let them get near and just walk off or give them attitude. He was adopted once before and it was the worst time of his life, humans were cruel and he knew damn well they couldn’t put up with him. So he put off the idea that he would find someone nice enough.
Kats didn’t get along with the other hybrids, only a selected group he allowed near him. If he wasn’t hanging around them then he was outside in the shade, or playing with a chew toy that need to be replaced each day. He loved to be outside a few hours because he had a lot of energy he couldn’t release inside. Today he decided to take a break and lay on the ground to take a quick nap, the shade and sun making him tired. Then, his nose picked up a scent. Shooting his head up from his resting place his head looked around for the scent he was smelling.
This wasn’t food, it wasn’t like anything he’s ever smelled before. It was the perfect smell for him. He craved to get near the source. So he stood up and looked around, his tail wagging behind him. Big and thick with blonde and white with brown tips like his ears. “Shit.” He smelled it out and followed trail. A beautiful laugh caught his ears and he looked up to see a woman smiling with the owner, a hybrid getting their head pat. Her. It was coming from her.
Mate. Claim. Mate.
She was his mate, his tail wagged harder but his head gave him trouble. He didn’t need a mate, and not a shitty human at that. What was she trying to do? He’s a alpha and not some pet she could keep in her house- But he wanted it. To be close to her at every second to keep he safe and sound. He groaned and fell close to the ground and behind the flowers, the garden being filled with big places with high planted flowers. It was easy for him to crawl closer without being caught, after all it was in his blood to hunt.
He got closer and watched for a second. “I’ll leave you to look around, I know of a few hybrids out here. A snake one, he’s usually in the trees and many others.” She smiles and took the cat hybrid inside, leaving you alone. Smiling to yourself and straighten your blouses then walk over to the flowers, smelling them. Bakugo wiggled his body and got ready to pounce on you, why? He just felt like it. But when you giggled and looked over at his direction he froze in shock and confusion.
“There’s a mirror wall behind you,” you look a seat on the bench beside you. “But don’t be discouraged, you would of had me.” The lighthearted tone in your voice made him heat up, and your smile with no anger in it. He rolled his eyes and stood up, inching closer to you with a glare, a low growl leaving his lips to imitate you with fear. You only smiled and pulled out a big threat, a bone shaped one.
“I apologize if I offended you, it was not my intention.” Standing up slowly you tossed the treat softly before him.  “But I hope you’ll take this treat as a apology, great wolf.” His ego built up at your praise and felt better. He took the treat and took a few bites. While he was focused on the treat you backed up to leave him alone, not wanted to anger him. Wolfs can be very territorial when it comes to it, so you wouldn’t egg him in. 
“I didn’t say go, damn human.” His tough voice caught you off guard. You turned around to see him soften his glare and look at the bench you once sat at. “Sit.” You smirked for a second and walked back to the bench and did as he said. He was adorable. You stuck out your hand for him to sniff and he hesitated, looking up at you like asking permission or to get a read on you. But you only flashed him a eye closing smile.
His noses poked your hand and sniffed all around to take in your scent in, and his body turned into mush. Your scent, he craved it. “Damn, of course it be a human.” He huffed and crossed his arms. You looked at him confused, “Hmm?” Kats rolled his eyes hard and pointed at you, “Mate.” He enjoyed how you looked at him in shock and flustered.
“Now, go get the paper work done so I can leave. I wouldn’t let anyone leave with you today wether you like it or not.” His tail stomped the ground as his teeth really showed to threaten the people he thought of. “Well? Go!” You giggled and rushed away from the shouting hybrid, a rough one.
He was demanding and didn’t care. He however, was loving on the way to your house so you didn’t mind.
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Shoto Todoroki
Shoto is a hybrid that likes to take naps, his cat like nature is strong. The sunlight can make him fall asleep anywhere, no matter the place. He also loves to climb up on things to take a nice nap, mostly on a cat like tree they have for hybrids. He also has a scratching problem but not in a bad way, he just needs to stretch often. Those are the things he does in a day. Wake up, scratch, eat, Nap, scratch and then repeat. However he does hang out with some hybrids on occasion.
Today Shotos place of choice was in front of the art rooms door, so close to getting hit if someone opened the door fully. The hybrid didn’t notice this when he went to sleep or he would have scooted a bit further. You wanted to explore the place and decide to check the art room to see what’s it was like. When you opened the door you didn’t see the hybrid behind you, only a tail that curled and swung slowly. Stopping and not pushing the door any further you walked through the gap and poke your head around to see the hybrid laying there.
His hair mix toned, red and white. His tail thin but long, white fur all the way down. But his ears matched the hair on each side, he was gorgeous. You smile and push all the way in the room and close the door as quietly as you can, trying not to startle him. Kneeling down a few inches from him you start to call out softly for him to walk up. Clinking your tongue, “Little buddy, wake up please.” You repeated that line over and over. But he wasn’t little, only a small frame but you could see the muscles he had and how tall he was.
He slowly opened his eyes with a yawn, confused on what was going on. When he noticed you his demeanor changed slight. His face dropping and staring you, with almost a cold glare. Chuckling to not be afraid you step back, “Sorry, I just didn’t want you to get hurt. You were sleeping in front of the door.” You glanced at the door and showed him what you meant. But he didn’t stop staring at you with a unreadable expression.
Shoto was freaking out inside. Your scent drove him insane, one he wanted to run and nuzzle up to. He couldn’t look away from your pretty face or he would have. What was this? Had you have some sort of magic to bewitched him? Why was his body on fire? He had so many emotions and non of them made sense. Until his mouth started to water..
Mate.
The clicking sound echoed through his brain when he realized what you were to him. A mate. Fate was funny about bringing people together and he didn’t have to find you, you found him. “Hello?” You waved a hand in front of your face as he continued to be silent and frozen. He blinked finally and you felt relieved. “Call me shoto.” You hummed at the calming tone. “Y/n.” You reached out your hand with a smile. Of course he couldn’t hold himself back from taking it and sniffing you.
Your scent was so nice to smell, calming but made his blood pump. You had weird affects on his body. You watch him sniff you and it made you laugh as he kept hitting his nose against the center. He was booping his own nose. Then he did something unexpected and licked your hand softly. To give affection he kept doing it, small licks. Nothing more to the eyes. Only he did it to get his scent on you.
“Adopt me.” He look up at you blankly and you were taken aback by his boldness. “We just met, don’t you want to get a know me first?” You asked. Most hybrids take a week at least before getting comfortable with a owner, or at least a whole day. “I know all I need, you are my mate of course.” He nuzzled against your hand as his tail swayed around smoothly.
“Mates?” You questioned but couldn’t help but rub his cheek, he purred so loudly you could feel it. “Hmm, smell you. Us hybrids have mates, or some do and mine is you.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Now, I’m tired. Could you go get everything done so I can’t go back to napping?”
You took shoto home that night and he fell asleep on your nap. Followed you around the house with his head in your shoulders.
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Eijiro Kirishima
Kiri likes to be with other hybrids and people, a social butterfly if you will. He always has a smile on his face to cheer and play with the others, the big brother of the estate. His dream is to one day have a forever home with a family that loves him but worries about being worthy. Despite always tell the others they’d get adopted or cheer them up, he felt the same way. But he puts it off and has fun instead, he’s very active. They had to build a new playground area just for him and hybrids like him who are rough but playful.
Kiri today was in the playroom all by himself and it saddens him, no one to play with. He’d have the rope in his mouth and swing it around almost like a weapon. Or jumping around from the bars to places, or his favorite. Catch. They had a device to throw the ball automatically and he loved it, almost as much as someone actually throwing him the ball. Kiri watched the ball get shot out and hit the table making it change direction to the door. To his surprise the door opened just as the ball rolled on the floor and stop between someone’s leg. His mind focused on the ball he chased after it.
His legs ran to catch the small object and only to be caught in another trance caused by a smell, a delicious smell. Stopping in his tracks he froze and looked up at the person at the door who now looked at the ball between her feet. A smile spread on her lips when she bent down to pick it up. The smell was coming from her. Was it a treat in her pocket? What flavor was it? That smell was heaven to his nose, like it was made just for him.
Mate.
Giggling you looked at the pup in front of you, a grip on the ball “Want me to throw it?” You wiggled it slightly. Thump thump. The sound of his huge fluffy tail hit the floor as he panted quietly. He was so excited. “Get it.” You threw it past him and made sure not to hit anything but far for him to have fun. He leaped up and chased after it, so fast and quick. It was cute to watch him bite the ball and chew down on it slightly then look back at you. He pranced back to you with his tail wagging, a pride filled aura as he puffed out his chest.
He dropped the ball at your feet and sat back on the floor, his tongue sticking out. “Awe, such a good boy.” You reached down to pet his head but gave him enough time to pull away if he’d like. But he didn’t so your hand patted the red hair, slightly touching the ears on his head. “My names Y/n.” Without a warning he jumps up and knocks you down, leaning onto of you and starts to lick across your face. His hands on your chest and tail making a breeze.
You laughed and tried to move but he didn’t let up on his actions. You smelled too good. You called him a good boy. A perfect mate for him. He leaned up and didn’t let his hands up from your stomach. “Eijiro Kirishima.” His smile was so wide you saw his teeth that looked perfectly white and sharp. Taking a breath you smile up at the hybrid you just met. “Nice to met you.” He jumped off you and waited for you to get up.
When you did you brushed off yourself and whipped your face off. Kiri stood up finally and you looked up at him, he was one of the biggest hybrids you have ever seen. Blushing at his height you giggled, he was just a huge puppy. “Are you here to adopt?” He asked, his ears and tail stopping and going down. You could tell he was sad and you wondered why.
“Yes, I am.” You see him look at the floor and a sad smile grew on his face. “They’d be luck to have you.” The heart in your chest shattered at his tone, so quick to dismiss himself. “Would you be willing to get adopted? I was looking for a dog hybrid…If you’re willing.” Kiri’s head shit up and his body started to wage and bounce. The sparkle in his eyes reappeared and his happiness coming back.
The next thing you know his arms are wrapping themselves around you and pulling you closer, his tongue licking your cheek. You patted his head, “I’ll take that as a yes.” You didn’t expect to meet the hybrid of your dreams on the first day of looking but here he was. “Mate, going home with my mate.” His words made you tense up. Mate? Does he think you’re his mate… Why doesn’t that not sound wrong?
“Okay, let’s go so I can go to the office.” He whined and hugged you closer. His head rested on your shoulder and he refused to let you go, he had a person for the first time. Too soon to let go. “You can come with him, but I need to walk.” He felt your chest vibrate with laughter and he huffed. His arms let your waist go but hooked on your arm instead.
You didn’t expect him to be so clingy and protective over you but that’s what he was. You’re now his home. But there’s no other pup for you.
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mayullla · 1 year
Text
Quest: Clear out the slimes in grandmother's garden.
Character(s): Slime Monster (Oc / Original work) Summary: You are an adventurer, taking up missions and quests in the guild. You didn't know that your choices all have unfair consequences. You thought of the slime more as a pet while it thought of you as a mate. Tags/warnings: Yandere!monster, fem!reader, non-consensual kissing and touching, possession (not the reader), taking a bath in front of a 'supposed' pet if that is a warning needed
{ - JRPG Quest masterlist - }
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You took a simple mission, help an old grandmother clean out the slimes that have been eating all her crops and vegetables in her garden.
Clearing out the slime with your sword you noticed a smile, a little lighter blue than the other slimes. Weakly moving around while others jumped in panic at the sight of your sword. You should have killed it then and there, but you left it.
The old lady was kind and gave you your reward for clearing out the monster yet she could not help but question if it was really all right for you to hold such a dangerous creature in your hand. "Are you sure it would be okay to keep such a thing? I know some people keep them as pets but aren't they still wild creatures?" You tried to calm the worries of the grandmother stating that you will only release the slime out to the wild.
Walking deeper into the forest you gave it some food to eat that you have brought with you. You watched as the sandwich slowly disintegrate inside the slime's body. You wondered why you let this one go, really while most slimes are harmless too many also cause trouble for the ecosystem. Maybe it was because of its unique color, you never saw such pink slime in your life.
"Don't come back if you know what is good for you." You mumbled poking the little slime on your hand. The gushing sound it made in delight perhaps because it finally ate made you smile. When you thought you were far enough from the place you tried to place the slime down. "There you go- huh?" You were supposed to plop the slime onto the grassy floor instead the slime continued to cling to your hand refusing to let go. "What the..."
No matter what you did, the slime did not let go. As you scoop the slime from one hand it started to cling to the other when you tried to remove the creature from your hand with your boots. It still didn't let go instead choosing to stick to your boot's ankle making it hard for you to walk.
After trying to get this thing off from you and failing miserably you had no choice but to take the thing back home as the sun slowly goes down and the day ends. "What am I supposed to do with you." You mumbled scratching the back of your head as you glance at the thing on your arms giggling in happiness that you weren't trying to throw it out anymore.
The little thing had become a pet of sorts for you. It followed you around the house everywhere you go. When you finish eating, the remaining food and plate you would feed it to the slime where it would eat all the leftovers and clean the plate and then give it to you. (You thought it the little thing could become your dishwasher with how clean your plates look but at the same time the idea that it was not washed by water and soap and instead slime doesn't sit right with you.)
It would follow you when you get ready for the day and follow you to the bathroom and even when you shower. The slime had at one point crawled into your bathtub once joining you in your soak. You didn't think much of it really, the thing didn't have eyes nor a mouth or anything it was just a blob really.
"Hmmmm" You poked the floating slime that did its best to get on your bathtub. The slime clinging to your finger at that moment and started crawling closer to you till it reached your shoulder nuzzling itself on your neck.
It followed you to your bed when you went to sleep. The thing tried to cuddle next to you again, and while it didn't bother you while in the bath it bothered you now. It was a weird feeling! How were you supposed to sleep went it feels like one side of the bed was wet. Too uncomfortable you grabbed the slime and placed it on a pillow that you tossed to the floor.
"That will be your bed from now on all right?" You told it satisfied when you saw the curious motion it was doing looking at you and then at the pillow. Too tired you were soon fast asleep.
You woke with the thing right on top of your chest as if it had sneaked up when you were sleeping. And the next time it happened again and again, you tried to put the small slime outside your room but it seems that since it didn't have any bones it was able to slide on the crack of the door and place itself again close to you.
You had gotten so used to this slime being in your life thought of it nothing more than a pet unknowing that in the end it still was a monster. That pink slime grew so attached to you, unknown to you its attachment was somewhat an obsession than something cute.
In a sense, it thought of you as its mate. Your affection for it was a courting ritual for the pink slime as it returned your affection with rubs in your hand almost as it was a puppy when all it wanted was to merge with you. Yet it can't. Slime went the smartest yet they pick up fast as it watched you interact with a man. You wondered what the slime was thinking when it watched you as you talked to your crush. You have fallen in love with another adventurer for a while now and while you two aren't partners sometimes you would join with him on a quest or two if you happen to bump into each other.
But you weren't able to dwell in those thoughts anymore when the adventure called your name wondering if you were okay or not as you seem to zone out a bit. "Are you okay? Want to rest somewhere?" "O-oh no! I am completely alright!"
You wondered where that slime had gone after the quest, disappearing near the end. You called out a small nickname you have given to it yet no blob of pink appeared in your vision and after trying to search for it for a while you returned home thinking that it finally returned back to the wild. You felt everything was odd at first there was no squishing sound of slime following you and when you tried to reach out for something you realized it was there anymore.
After staying in your life for more than 2 months you have grown used to the little guy that you can't help but become a little solemn at the thought.
Yet you didn't want this... You certainly didn't want this...
It was a rainy night when you got a knock on the door. It has been two weeks since the pink slime left but it also has been two weeks since you last saw that certain adventurer that you have in mind. You gasp when you saw him all drenched from the rain standing right in front of the door. "H-hey... It seems that i have been caught in the rain... Sorry, can I stay at your place for a little till the rain stops..." He told you having an awkward smile on his face.
You have given him the shower while finding clothes that he could wear. You let him stay for a while, thinking that he would leave the moment the rain stopped but it didn't as your heart beat with how close the man that you liked was as if the man was unconsciously nuzzling you on your neck as the two of you waited on the sofa for the rain to stop.
When you realize that he was that slime that you once cared for it was too late when he forced you down on the sofa his hand slowly changes to something more slimy texture yet still strong enough to pin your arms down. The smile he gave was so lovestruck and goofy as you could see specks of pink in his eyes.
When he forced a kiss something that the slime has saw all the other couples would do, you could taste and feel the texture of slime on your tongue as the slime on top of you curiously explore your mouth. His eyes were sickeningly sweet... you now knew you make a mistake in bringing the slime in.
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euphor1a · 6 months
Text
Just the tip
* part of “boyfriend chronicles” — can be read as a stand-alone.
ꨄ pairing: mingyu x f!oc
ꨄ genres: non idol!au, established relationship, fluff, smut, slice of life.
ꨄ summary: he tried his best, he really did. but lord, for how long could he control himself when you looked like a pretty, little angel, all his to ruin?
ꨄ rating & word count: 18+ ; ~9.5K  
ꨄ warnings/tags: fluff (called me single in 100 languages typa way), plentiful pda, they’re so in love that it repulses me /j, profanity, explicit sexual content; dom/sub undertones (a bit of switch action as well), semi-public sex, breast play, biting/marking, size kink, praising, pet names, fingering, teasing, dacryphilia, begging, “just the tip”, unprotected, penetrative sex, big d*ck!gyu, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), creampie — this is a work of fiction and it doesn’t represent mingyu in any way.    
ꨄ a/n: this series is slowly starting to look like my villain origin story 😔... like wdym i can’t have kim mingyu 💔💔? *sigh* anyway, it’s been a while, enjoy <3!
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His footsteps are light despite him being in a hurry. It’s almost as if he could start flying at any moment. Mingyu wishes that was an option. The sunlight filtering through his living room windows barely makes it to the kitchen, where he’s struggling miserably. 
Large, shaky hands grip onto the petite looking sliders he has just finished making, carefully placing them inside the various colorful lunch boxes splayed out on the kitchen island. Mingyu is heaving ever so slightly, a bit of perspiration starting to collect on his forehead. He’s nervous. And it’s silly, he knows. But he can’t help his rushing heart that is hammering against his chest. 
It’s been over ten minutes since you texted him that you’re on your way to the park you two are going to meet up for your date. And he’s still here, in his pj’s, trying to finish packing the picnic basket as quickly as possible without absolutely destroying it. Even though Mingyu woke up criminally early with the intentions to cook everything himself, he somehow managed to fall behind because of the stupid cupcake batter that refused to make anything edible out of itself. 
With what feels like the umpteenth sigh of the day, he manages to complete arranging the boxes inside the basket. However, he almost slips while hurrying to reach his bedroom. A string of curses leave Mingyu’s pouty lips, the muscles in his arms flexing to support his whole body against the wall. He still needs to get ready, leave his house, and buy some sort of dessert from the local bakery before finally meeting you.
Thanking himself for picking up and ironing the outfit yesterday night, he dresses up in a flash. Mingyu ponders if he should do something with his hair, but ends up keeping it the way it currently is. Sure, it is kind of messy, but it also gives him that ‘casually sexy’ look. A satisfied smirk and the bare minimum skincare along with sunscreen later, he regards himself in the mirror for one last time. Looking more than good to go.
That state of peace only lasts for a moment though. Not wanting to be even more late than he already is, Mingyu grabs his phone, wallet, keys and the basket. After another minute of scrambling, he puts on a random pair of loafers and heads out. Even though you haven’t contacted him since earlier, he feels anxious. Who knows for how long you’ve been waiting all alone? 
His long legs help him blaze past the bustling neighborhood, hands clutching on the basket’s handle in an attempt to stop it from swaying unsteadily. Mingyu is so wrapped up in his thoughts of you that he actually walks past the bakery — before realizing and taking a 180° turn. The elderly owner smiles at him brightly as he enters the cozy shop, somehow catching up on what exactly is happening with the usually calm and collected guy he has seen for so long. “Aah, Mingyu! Welcome, my boy! Long time no see, eh? What brought you here all of a sudden? Mayhaps a special day with a special someone?” 
“Hi, Mr. Owen! Hah, really though… I don’t remember the last time I found myself having a little dessert. Glad to be back here! Although, I’m just gonna pretend that I didn’t hear the last part…” Mingyu trails off, eyes taking in the pretty pastries and all sorts of baked goodness displayed in front of him. His heart jumps a little when he thinks about how your face contorts in pure joy whenever you ravish the sugar rush from something sweet. “Uh anyway! Please pack me a dozen of these pastel colored macarons! And maybe four of those glazed donuts? Oh my god… are those heart shaped pies?? Looks so cute! Please pack two of them too!” 
The man nearing his late 60s can’t help but laugh at Mingyu’s excited rambling as he points at the things he wants. “Calm down, calm down, I’ll get to everything one by one.” He folds up some new boxes before putting the delicate confectioneries into them. “You really don’t have to say anything though, the answers are written all over your face.” 
Mingyu, who was busy admiring the heart shaped pies, looks up, confused. “Huh?” 
“The question I asked earlier. Which you pretended to not hear. The answer to it is written all over your face.” Owen shakes his head with a smile on his face. 
“Oh–” Mingyu looks down at his feet. Is he really that obvious? But even if he is, should he care about it? Feeling happy and elevated to meet his girlfriend doesn’t always need to be embarrassing. 
“Don’t mind my little teasing now, will you? Do you want me to put these in your basket?” He’s brought back to reality by Owen’s voice. Mingyu nods and brings the picnic basket up on the counter. 
While the old man adds up the prices to write a bill after carefully putting all the desserts in the almost full basket, Mingyu finds himself zoning out. Would you like all the things he’s bringing? What if you have some secret allergy he doesn’t know yet, and you’re unable to eat? A pout forms on his lips. But then he remembers — he’s been pretty late by now, and you’re waiting for him in a place you’re not familiar with at all.
He hurriedly pays and grabs his basket, apologizing to Owen for not being able to hang around longer and leaving immediately. Once he’s outside again, he quickly takes his phone and calls your number. Mingyu almost feels jittery, scenarios going through his head that aren’t exactly nice. Thankfully for him, you pick up after a few rings, greeting him cheerily.
“Mingyu! Hello baby! I’m here already, are you on your way?”  
That alone is enough for the six feet tall, grown ass man to wish he could disintegrate into thin air right now. Not in a negative way, though. He just finds it extremely devastating that you called him “baby” like that. But Mingyu is quick to recover from that feeling. “Hi angel, I’m on my way!! I’m sorry you have to wait there all alone… I’m like a three minute walk away from the park. Do you, maybe, wanna keep talking over the phone?”
“Aw sure! And don’t worry about it please, I’m just standing beneath a large tree and enjoying the scenery! It’s so pretty here!” 
Three minutes feel like thirty seconds with you, as he already gets through the park’s elegant looking entrance. His eyes immediately start searching for you. “Baby, I just got through the main gate! Where are you?” 
“Oh! That was quick, Gyu; should I come over to the entrance?” 
“Nono princess! Stay where you are, I’ll be there. Just give me some directions!” Mingyu insists. To his surprise, you don’t give up for your cause.
“Why?” Your voice is nearly a whine, “It’ll be way easier if I just go where you are!” 
With his heart doubling in his chest from fondness, he sighs, “Fine… I guess. Come over quickly then, will you?” 
“Yep yep, already on my way! I can’t wait to see you!” You giggle excitedly, keeping your eyes on the path as you wander back towards the main gate. Mingyu waits by the side of a decorative statue for you. His gaze is searching, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person he’s grown to adore endlessly. 
It’s only a matter of seconds for you to spot each-other, two pairs of eyes lighting up with joy. You run to him giddily, colliding into his firm chest that you’ve fallen asleep on several times now. His large arms wrap around your small frame to pull you closer, as if on instinct.
You inhale his scent deeply, a mix of his cologne and the smell of fresh laundry from his black polo shirt. However, you do avoid getting your face smushed up against him— for the sake of your skincare and makeup. Both of you stay locked in each other’s embrace for a while, before eventually pulling away.
“You look so unbelievably pretty, my love.” Mingyu leans down to place a kiss on your head. “And smelling like a dream, as well.” Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you fiddle with the belt loops of his beige trouser.
Only now, you’ve become aware of exactly how fucking good he looks today. This black polo fits him like a glove, paired with trousers that accentuate his long legs. Oh and, he also has a pair of eyeglasses that adorns his handsome face. The whole imagery is pretty devastating to your brain as it fails to process everything your eyes have registered. Why is it even legal to look like this?
You suddenly feel majorly weak in the knees, but Mingyu supports you with his unoccupied hand, flashing you a cocky grin. “What happened, baby?” He teases, clearly aware of the effect he has on you. You hold onto his arms and regain composure, clearing your throat from embarrassment. 
“Uhm, you look… really really great as well.” His eyes twinkle as he smiles upon your compliment, the hand around your waist pressing you into him. Your heart flutters in your chest from the close exposure. Mingyu seems a bit more touchy-touchy than usual, considering that you guys are in public.
“All for you, my angel,” your boyfriend mutters right against your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. As if that wasn’t satisfactory enough, he lets his lips brush over the shell of your ear, catching you even more off-guard. What the hell is in the air today? 
“Uhm– let’s go find a spot for our date? Or are we gonna just stand here?” You look up at Mingyu questioningly, doe eyes causing his heart to skip a beat. He sighs, just slightly annoyed with how his mind goes to unspeakable places with just that.
“Of course, baby, let’s find a place to sit down.” He smiles brightly, watching you wrap your smaller arm around his. To his dismay, his hungry eyes once again take in how pretty and irresistible you look in this flowy, white sundress. 
The soft material caresses your thighs with each stride; Mingyu wishes it was his hand instead. It’s absurd, but the way this dress has pretty flowers and hearts printed across it makes him wanna mark you up. The poofy sleeves, the sweetheart neckline that shows just enough to drive him crazy — God. Even the way your hair is loosely braided with stray locks tucked behind your ear? He genuinely wants to cancel all plans and take you to his home and do you all day.
It’s crazy, really. How can you just look like that and expect anyone to act like a normal functioning human? Mingyu shakes his head a little and inhales shakily. You deserve to get pampered on a picnic date as much as you deserve to get mind-blowing orgasms. 
“You’re not paying attention to me at all…” The sound of your dejected voice breaks him out of his reverie. Shit.
“No, no! Baby, please, I’m sorry… Uh, to be painfully honest with you, I’m distracted because you look so exceptionally pretty, like an angel who’s descended on Earth. But still, I’m really sorry for not listening to what you have to say. I promise I’ll focus from now on!!” He laces your fingers together and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. 
“You’re such a flatterer, Kim Mingyu.” You try to hide your smile, sounding a bit angry to tease him. Your beloved boyfriend hates it when you call him by his full birth name; and this time is no different. However, to your surprise, instead of throwing a tantrum like he usually does, Mingyu leads you to the side of the path. 
“Wha—” you start, but close your mouth out of shock when he covers your frame entirely and leans down to press a sweet kiss on your lips. Your hands press against his toned stomach for support, your head emptying entirely. His lips are so soft against yours, the heat radiating from his body warming you up a bit too much. 
You pull away first, your whole face heated from his sudden action. As you take deep breaths to compensate for the air you lost during the kiss, Mingyu finally speaks up. “Don’t be mad at me today, my love. Please. I’m gonna be so, so sad. I promise I’ll do better but god, please don’t be upset.” His lips have formed his signature pout, your heart melting at the spot. 
You let your thumb caress over his pout, tip-toeing to peck him. Mingyu’s lips stretch into a smile, his unoccupied hand curling around your waist. “You’re so cute, how can I be mad at you?” You giggle, absolutely adored by this soft giant begging you to not be upset. 
“If I am cute, then what are you, princess?” Mingyu grins, nuzzling your hand before you move it away. You shake your head, not willing to debate on who’s the cutest. 
“Anyway, we should really find a place to sit down and get our picnic started. I was just saying that there aren’t a lot of people in the park right now, but we should still find a place with enough privacy.” 
The way Mingyu nods is like a puppy tilting its head. God, the way you’d commit arson for this guy. With a soft sigh, you continue. “And, I also have my own basket, which I left at an empty space I found by where I was standing. Let’s go there first, then we can move further into the park where not a lot of people will potentially find or bother us.” 
It takes you guys a few minutes to go and fetch your own basket, and probably another ten to fifteen minutes to find a spot for your picnic date. Mingyu is extremely happy with the grassy little patch surrounded by tall bushes and large trees, a big smile on his face as he takes out the picnic blanket he brought along. He can’t wait to show you all the food he made. 
Once he’s done setting the blanket, you take off your pastel pink mary janes and settle down on the blanket with your picnic basket nearby. Mingyu looks at you, a bit surprised. “You’re taking off your shoes?” The question makes you narrow your eyes. 
“And why wouldn’t I be taking off my shoes? To make this brand new blanket dirty?” His mouth forms an ‘O’ shape, before he nods. You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at him. “You can keep your shoes on, if you want. There’s no need to stink up this place.”
“HEY! I’m not that unhygienic, that last time I just forgot about laundry for some reason. I already told you… And I’m not wearing any socks today…” Mingyu trails off, discarding his loafers with a ‘hmph’. 
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Stop sulking, Gyu.” You watch him as he sits down as well, adjusting his trousers a bit to be more comfortable in this position. He overlooks you for now, reaching for his basket and carefully taking out the desserts first. Then, he produces a bunch of different tupperwares out of it, placing all the food in the center of the mat, between you two. 
You reach for your own basket as well, cautiously eyeing your boyfriend who seems to be extremely invested in unpacking all the food. The only things you’ve brought along today for the picnic date are flowers, a flower vase, a small canvas and some tubes of watercolor, besides your necessary belongings. Although it’s kinda embarrassing, it can’t be helped because Mingyu insisted on bringing everything for the date. 
“Gyu,” you murmur, hands anxiously gathering the loosely made bouquet inside your basket. It’s oddly nerve-wracking. You’ve never really received or given flowers in a relationship before. 
“Hm?” He doesn’t look up, eyes furrowed as he rummages through his basket. With a sharp inhale, you slowly retrieve the flowers, extending them towards him. Mingyu immediately turns to look at your shaky hands holding a bouquet of Jasmine and Lilacs, his face heating up as he realizes what’s going on.
“____, my baby,” he coos, bringing his hands to wrap around your trembling ones. “It looks so pretty, did you bring them for me?” You avoid eye-contact, but nod to give him confirmation. The wave of weird emotions that hits Mingyu is hard for him to explain. Usually, he’s been the one giving flowers to his partners in relationships. But, being on the receiving end for the first time, he feels as if he’s on top of the world. 
“C’mere.” He leans in to grab your waist, bringing you closer to him, before hoisting you up a little to place you on his lap. Mingyu fixes your dress, then  pulls you closer to rest against his chest. His left hand remains wrapped up around your midsection. “Thank you so much, love. I’m over the moon that you got me flowers. I’m so lucky to be dating you, angel.” He presses a kiss on your cheek, your heart almost bursting inside your chest. 
“Do you know Victorian floriography?” you look at him, slightly embarrassed. When he shakes his head as ‘no’, you go on, “It’s the language of flowers. Back then, gifted flowers used to have hidden meanings… But it’s kinda coming back in trend, I guess.” 
“Oh,” Mingyu ponders, “Then, does this bouquet of Jasmine and Lilacs have a secret message as well?” You nod, looking up at him with a shy smile. 
“Find it out later, okay? For now, please explain what you’ve brought along in so many boxes…?” Trying to change the topic, you take away the flowers to put them inside the vase you brought along, settling it in an empty space between all the packed boxes of desserts.
He chuckles nervously, suddenly remembering all the food he brought. “Uh… right. I might’ve gone a bit overboard with it, but I promise, sixty percent of everything you see is made by me, with so much love.” 
“Whoa!” you exclaim. “That’s a lot of things you made with your own hands… I’m honored.” Mingyu presses a kiss on the side of your neck, nuzzling it affectionately. Goosebumps spread across your skin, and you stop yourself from making any noises. It’s… weird that he’s being so intimate while you are pretty much in public. But god, does it do things to you… 
“You haven’t tasted anything yet, though. Heck, let me show you what’s inside first.” He reaches for the closest tupperware, and to your surprise, you see various, colorful fruits, all cut up in small heart shapes and laid out in rows. 
“Omg, so cute!!” you squeal, clapping your hands together in excitement. Mingyu beams at you, clearly happy with your reaction. 
“Hehe, there’s a lot more to see!” He stretches to grab two more boxes, each revealing tteok-bokki, your mouth inevitably watering from the sight. You’ve had these delicious rice cakes made by him a few times prior, and you loved it to bits. 
He leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Should I take out the chopsticks?” Mingyu closes the box with fruits in it, moving it to the side. “Let’s go from spicy to sweet, hm? I also made tiny sliders because you seem to like miniature food a lot! After these, we can have the desserts!” 
You nod in agreement, snuggling up to him more. Receiving treatment like this makes you feel like a princess. Even though you’re not sure how much he has brought along, you internally make up your mind to at least taste everything and applaud the effort he put into it.  
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Once you guys are done eating everything he had prepared himself, you urge Mingyu to take a break and save the desserts for the very end. He agrees, not willing for the date to end anytime soon. 
“I brought along something else as well… if you let me go for a bit, I can take my basket and you can hold me again.” You say after a while of chatting about this and that. Your boyfriend eyes you curiously, loosening his arms around your waist momentarily. That is enough for you to grab your basket and settle down on his lap again. 
“What did you bring? I’m so curious! Wait— tubes of paint?!” To add more to his surprise, you take out the small canvas, a literal gasp escaping Mingyu. “What can we possibly do with these? I don’t see any brushes…” 
“It’s so surprising to me that you’re always on Instagram, yet you have no clue about this.” You tease, placing the canvas in a position where both of you can access it very comfortably. He raises an eyebrow at your comment, feeling very attacked. But he refrains from saying anything.
“Let’s just start doing it, okay? It’ll make sense immediately because it’s nothing complicated.” You sigh, taking Mingyu’s palm in yours. He looks confused as you take the red watercolor tube first, getting rid of the cap and squeezing out a generous amount on the top of pinky finger. 
“Oh…” He lets you take his hand and bring it to the center of the tiny canvas, pressing the paint covered finger carefully against the paper. “But what’s that supposed to do? It just looks like a blob of paint…” Mingyu looks at you questioningly as you retreat his pinky from the canvas. 
“Oh hush, don’t be so impatient!” You scold him jokingly, pointing towards a bunch of tissues. “Clean up your finger now! You’ll find out soon enough.” He puffs out his lower lip, reaching for a tissue while grumbling.
You take the tube of blue watercolor and cover your whole thumb with a thick layer of paint. Mingyu watches you curiously while you press on your thumb in the opposite direction of his ‘blob of paint’, trying to get the sizes as close as possible. “That is so fucking adorable?!” Your boyfriend erupts in cute aggression when you lift up your thumb, revealing a heart made with your fingerprints. 
“It’s so cute, you’re so cute, fuck, I–” He stops himself before any inevitable words roll off his tongue. Mingyu is well aware that you prefer to take things slow, and he wants to make sure that you can process everything at your own pace. His thoughts are interrupted by your giggles. 
He tightens his hands right beneath your chest, pushing you close to nuzzle the crook of your neck. “Is it that funny? So fun to watch me lose my shit because of how fucking adorable you are, hm?”
“It’s not like that…” you murmur, goosebumps all over your body. “I just thought that it’s kinda amusing how you were all clueless and nagging about it earlier, then suddenly, you were screaming about how cute this is.” It’s hard for you to not make any sounds when he’s caressing your sensitive areas, but you attempt to keep your voice low and steady. 
Mingyu wishes he could explain how much that tiny heart shaped painting actually means to him. It’s almost like all your heart is into those two blobs of red and blue paint, looking back at him, telling him secrets you’ve never shared with him before. He feels all warm and fluffy inside, his senses all wrapped around your nuances. “Can I keep that for myself?” 
“Of course!” You smile brightly at him, extremely giddy that he wants to keep this small token of your feelings for him which will last way longer than the flowers. “Let the paint dry first, though.” 
“Sure, baby.” He squeezes you in his arms. “Can we have the desserts now? I know it doesn’t look like it, but there are plenty of them.” Mingyu whines, feeling sort of desperate to show you everything he bought earlier. Thankfully for him, you nod, perking up at the mention of many desserts. 
He reaches for the box with pies first, knowing very well you’ll absolutely adore them. And you do, blessing his ears with one of those cute squeals of yours, eyes sparkling at the sight in front of you. “OMG!! So pretty! And it looks delicious!” 
“Mhm, I had a feeling you’d love to have these. Let’s dig in!” Mingyu takes out a small bottle of hand sanitizer, squirting out some of it on both of your hands. These pies are very conveniently palm-sized. With its crust shaped like a heart, ruby red filling made out of cherries — it sure does make you feel hungry just by looking at it. 
“C’mon, take a bite,” your boyfriend muffles out, mouth already full of the big bite he has just taken. You nod gingerly, taking a shy bite of the pie as well. The buttery, flaky crust, paired up with a bit of the sweet cherries melt in your mouth, a satisfied sound rumbling in your throat. 
“Mm, it’s really good!” The smile on your face is like a whole trophy to Mingyu. You liked it. He’s so glad that he can’t really explain. 
“Yay!!! I got you donuts and macaroons as well!” He blurts out, all giddy looking at you savoring the sweet dessert. Once you’re done with the pie, he reaches for the boxes of both donuts and macarons, earning a small whine from you.
“I can’t eat that much… I’m almost full.” 
“Why? You only ate a little…” A frown forms on your boyfriend’s lips.
“Gyu. I had a ton of tteok-bokki. Then sliders. Then fruits. On the dessert side, I already had a pie. I’m really, really, sorry, but that looks like a lot of macarons and donuts. My stomach will either burst or I’ll just throw up at the end of this!” You try your best to make your point stand, pleading with your eyes for him to understand.
Mingyu heaves out a sigh. “Fineee. You’re gonna take the macarons back home with you, then. I bought these especially for you. And I’m not listening to any complaints about that.” 
“Gyu, that kinda makes me feel bad though… you basically did everything for this date.” 
“Baby, I did everything voluntarily because I wanted to treat you like this. Like you deserve to be treated. And c’mon now! You brought flowers for me, and came up with a fun little activity to do. What about all the dates we’ve had before that were totally planned by you? So pretty please, with a cherry on top, don’t turn me down?” 
You turn in his lap to face him, blinking back the silly tears that clouded your vision. He hums in approval as you wind your arms around his neck and pull him in for a sweet kiss. Although, you pull back soon enough, resting your foreheads together instead. “You mean so much to me,” you mutter, eyes locking with him. 
A strange warmth spreads throughout Mingyu, radiating inside-out and filling up his heart. He doesn’t really know what to say back — simply because he’s over aware of the fact that he is completely and utterly in love with you. But he doesn’t want to hurry, he wants to move with you, as you slowly open up your petals to him, like a flower does to a sun. 
“I wish there were words in my vocabulary capable of explaining how much you mean to me.” He smiles softly, pressing a butterfly kiss to the corner of your lips. Mingyu absolutely adores the sound of your giggle that drifts to his ears. 
“You’re so cheesy, I kinda like it.” 
“Just 'kinda'?” He can’t help his own chuckle. “And here I thought I was getting a lot of charm points for being cheesy.” 
“You can be cheesy all you want, baby. I think most of your charm points come from your physical features at a first glance.” You boop his nose, both of you bursting out in laughter. 
“Are you saying that I’m handsome?” 
“Mhm. Very handsome, in fact. Very tall as well. Very… very big too.” You can see the playful glint vanishing from his eyes. Mingyu inhales a shaky breath. 
“Let’s get to those donuts now. Please?” 
You nod, moving around to get back on your previous position. He bites back a groan as your hands feel around, squeeze and grab on his thighs before you settle down. “What donuts did you bring?” 
“Glazed donuts, cause you really liked them the last time!” He wraps an arm around your waist, adjusting you to be closer to him. Mingyu is well aware that he’s barely holding up. But, he’s trying to convince himself that being closer to you can get him through his… hard times.
“Whoa omg these look so good?!” His inner monologue is interrupted by your squeal. A small smile curls up his lips. 
“Right? Dig in, baby!” He encourages, leaning forward to take a donut for himself. You follow suit, excited to bite into the sugary heaven. 
The sweet dough crumbles in your mouth upon the first bite, the sugar glaze hitting your taste buds just right. As you savor the pleasant taste of it, a satisfied hum rumbles in your throat. “Gyu, this tastes heavenly. Way better than the last time we had it! And I loved the ones we got back then?!”
“I’m so glad, my angel. I’ll get you more the next time we meet up~” Your boyfriend nuzzles your hair affectionately, his heart doubling in his chest from adoration. It’s hard to explain how great he feels simply by seeing you happy, enjoying your food. Maybe, it’s because Mingyu himself loves to eat heartily and cook for his people; he hopes that he can see you like this forever. 
It would be so nice, he would cook for you everyday and help you out whenever you felt like cooking, and dine-out and order in as your heart desires. 
You’re almost done with your second donut by now, but Mingyu hasn’t said anything or even touched his portion after saying that he’d bring you more. Kind of worried, you turn your head to look at him, finding his eyes transfixed on you. 
“... Hello? Why’d you go silent? Is something in my hair or—” you stop halfway when you notice his gaze has shifted to your lips now. It makes you swallow nervously, anticipation building up in your system. You know that look all too well. 
“There’s something on your lips.” His voice is nonchalant, relaxing your senses a bit. You nod, attempting to wipe off the crumbs with your hand, but he catches your wrist, leaning in swiftly to wrap your lower lip between his. 
Goosebumps spread all over your body, hands automatically winding around his neck as he suckles on the delicate flesh of your lips. His free hand rests against the small of your back, urging you to turn towards him fully. 
You really don’t understand how he can kiss you this good when you are yet to open up to his tongue. Your body has already started to heat up, breathing uneven. With shaky hands, you clumsily take off his glasses, his lips curling up in a smile against yours. 
Soon enough, he coaxes your mouth open, his hand letting go of your wrist and cupping your jaw instead. You both moan simultaneously, crazed by the sweet aftertaste of the desserts. Mingyu is extremely eager, taking the lead as always, your body starting to quake from the mind numbing kiss.
Picking up on your struggle to breathe, he pulls away just enough to whisper against your lips. “You have to keep breathing through your nose, baby. You can’t just forget to breathe, even if I’m kissing you so good for so long that your mind goes blank.” 
You flush at the mention of your usual complaint against him whenever he has to give you space to breathe during a make-out. “I… I try, I swear, but it’s…” you trail off between huffs, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.
“Aw, am I giving my princess a hard time?” Mingyu pats your head, nudging you to get back up. You nod, a small chuckle escaping him. “Fuck, you’re so cute,” he leans in for a brief peck. “And so pretty, looking like a fairy today.” 
He returns to the kiss with full passion, tongue immediately entangling with yours, a low groan escaping him. You taste so maddeningly sweet, like an endless source of honey to his bee. He suckles on your tongue, his teeth nibbling on your lips, reducing you to an absolute mess. You are, quite literally, shaking, arousal dripping down your core and ruining the pretty lace thong you wore for today’s date. 
“Aah–” you gasp as he trails down to press wet, sloppy kisses down your neck, hands pulling at the sleeves of your dress. You don’t stop him, threading your fingers through the luscious locks of his wavy hair. Mingyu has nearly forgotten that you guys are technically in public, and has made you do the same. He drags your bra strap off your shoulder using his teeth, biting and sucking on the newly exposed skin.
One of his hands is wrapped around your waist to secure you, his other hand slipping beneath the skirt of your dress, stroking your thighs. Only now, you suddenly remember that you’re on a picnic date in a somewhat secluded part of a very public park. “Mm–mingyu– don’t—” you struggle with your words,  overwhelmed by his ministrations. He’s everywhere — touching, squeezing, licking, kissing and biting. “Stop, please.” You whimper, his actions halting immediately. 
“What’s wrong?” Mingyu lifts his head to assess your situation, looking dazed himself, his voice hoarse. You swallow nervously, your own eyes glazed with tears that had appeared because he made you feel a bit too good.
“We… we’re in public,” You state firmly. “We can get caught in a very indecent state if we keep going.” 
Mingyu takes a look around the surroundings. Tall bushes and plenty of large trees cover this small patch of area entirely. He knew exactly what he was doing when he chose this spot. One would have to wander off very far into the park and physically push off bushes to get in here like you guys did. Which, to him, seems extremely unlikely. 
“I wouldn’t call this public, my love.” He takes both of your hands to entwine your fingers. “And I highly doubt someone would come this far and specifically peek around the bushes to catch us. You do remember how long it took us to get here, no?” 
“Yeah… but, what if—” 
“There are no ‘what if’s, my angel. Even if someone did come this far into the park, they’d still have to manhandle the bushes to be able to see what’s on the other side. Please, trust me…” 
His broken look stirs something in you, and you lean in to touch your foreheads together. “I do trust you. And I want you as much as you want me,” you whisper shyly, your thong uncomfortably damp and sticking to your skin. “But, wouldn’t it be better if we go home quickly, and um, finish what we started…?” 
Mingyu sighs, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you as close as possible. “I don’t think I can hang on for that long, baby. I need you so fucking bad. I’ve been struggling to keep myself together for an embarrassingly long time now. You– You just look so goddamn pretty. Like a tiny little fairy who is all mine to ruin. Fuck, just… just see what you’ve done to me.” He takes one of your hands and guides it to his crotch, blood rushing to your face. 
“If you want me just as much as I do, you must be soaking wet, right?” His whisper is hot against your neck, right hand holding your own to his growing bulge while his left hand slips between your thighs. You gasp when he rubs his fingers against your ruined underwear, a satisfied grunt reverberating in his throat. “Fuck.” Mingyu curses under his breath, his hips bucking up to your joined hands.
“You really want us to go home in this state? Hm?” His voice is a whine, only adding more to your devastation. To be really honest, all logical reasoning left your system the moment he made you feel his hard-on. And then he had to feel your drenched thong in return as well, arousing you to the extent where you don’t really give a fuck about being in the open anymore.
“Hngh, fine— do it quickly.” You whimper, every inch of you begging for his touch, to be relieved. Mingyu smiles, ecstatic upon your words, hungry lips finding yours for a kiss. You moan at the contact, pussy clenching around nothing. 
“As my princess wishes.” He hums, pulling down your dress to reveal your bra. His pupils dilate at the sight in front of him. Even when he dragged down the straps of your bra with his teeth, he didn’t think you’d be wearing a rather provocative lacey piece today. “Fuck,” Mingyu bunches up your dress around your waist, a groan escaping him.
Is this another fantasy of his? Cause no, fuck, you sure do look like it. 
The delicate lace work barely covers anything, his cock throbbing inside the confines of his boxer-briefs. He feels like he’s high. “Baby,” your boyfriend rasps, “do you even understand what you do to me? Hm?” 
“You like it?” your voice is a whisper, fingers digging into his shoulder from nervousness. A part of you knows the answer already, but still, hearing it out loud from him always makes you feel butterflies. 
“You’re really asking me that? Fuck, I love it, you’re so fucking pretty, I can’t believe that you’re real, and mine.” Mingyu groans, one of his hands reaching for your bra and pulling at its cups. His mouth immediately attaches to your left breast as soon as it is released. You gasp, body quivering at the touch. He bites and suckles on the soft flesh teasingly before reaching for your hardened nipple. 
You whimper out his name, fingers gripping on his hair. The way his tongue swirls around and suckles on the sensitive bundle of nerves makes you dizzy. More arousal leaks out of your core, desperation cresting higher and higher. You need him in you, right now.
But Mingyu is lost in your breasts, reaching for your right one after a while, teeth dragging over the nipple before his tongue slurps at it. You quiver and whine in his arms from all the sensations you’re feeling. He knows exactly what to do to make you feel good, and he never slacks off at that. 
“You’re so perfect, my little angel.” Mingyu hums, his right hand groping your left boob. “Fits so perfectly in my hand, so cute,” he murmurs before looking up at you. As he meets your tearful eyes, he loses a bit more of his sanity. 
“Damn it, you look so—” he stops short, breathing heavily. Will he ever get used to the way you look during intimacy? Probably not. The flushed face, teary eyes and parted lips always gets him.
“Gyu,” you whine, hugging him tightly. “It hurts, please do something,” your whisper is hot against the shell of his ear. Mingyu can’t help but smirk, wondering if he should tease you. “Need you in me.” your sweet plea stirs him, more blood rushing towards the south.
“Fuck it.” He reaches between your thighs, cupping your pussy. The soaked, warm fabric makes him growl. Your hips immediately start rocking, generating friction — something you’ve been craving for so long now. You sigh in relief, using his hand to stimulate yourself.
“What if someone sees you like this right now? So needy, humping my hand?” Mingyu asks, amused. Goosebumps spread over your skin, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. However, you don’t stop moving your hips, inner walls clenching in desperation. 
“Do–don’t say that,” you whimper, “so embarrassing.” 
“Is that so? But you’re still rubbing into my hand, though.” 
“It’s because you won’t help me…” 
Mingyu can’t help but chuckle, his thumb finding your clit and pressing on it firmly. You scream out, a strong pulse of pleasure spreading through your nerves. He shushes you, alarmed. “Shh, you can’t be so loud today, baby… what if someone hears you and decides to check what’s going on?” 
You bite your tongue, absorbing his words. The thought paralyzes you from embarrassment, but for some reason, your pussy has a mind of its own. “It’s all your fault,” you croon, “it’s all because you can’t control yourself.” 
“I already said this like a hundred times, but, you look so fucking pretty in this cute little dress, baby. So fucking pretty. How am I supposed to control myself? When all I can think about is ruining my sweet angel?” Mingyu rasps, his calloused fingers rubbing your clit in tight circles. You’re certain that your legs will give up at this rate, your whole body teetering from the stimulation. 
“Bu–but—” you lower your voice to a whisper, “people will catch us like this, what then?” He presses a fleeting kiss on the corner of your lips, pushing the soaked lace of your thong to the side and sliding his middle finger between your labia against your slit. You swallow back a moan, biting the inside of your cheek.
“Guess you’re gonna have to keep it quiet in that case.” Mingyu pushes the digit into your sopping hole, making a ‘shlick’ sound that surprises both of you. “Fuck, did you hear that? Did you hear how wet you are for me?” You squeeze him in response, nerve endings on fire. It feels so incredibly good to finally have something fill your aching core. 
“Move, please,” you whimper, getting impatient. As if to test you, he slowly starts dragging his finger down, before pushing it back inside in a rough manner. You muffle your squeal against his shoulder, overwhelmed yet wanting more of him.
Soon enough, Mingyu loses the patience to tease you, his own urges kicking in. His ring finger slides into the depths of your molten warmth as well, your walls clenching around him from excitement. “You drive me fucking crazy,” he hisses under his breath. Slow, languid movements let him feel the way your arousal coats his skin in a silky veil, making him feel kind of suffocated around his crotch.
“Baby,” you whine, “wan’ more, please.” The burning ache for a release fires through your system, every single one of your cells begging for more. A breathy laugh rings in your ears, to your dismay.
“Want what exactly, love?” Mingyu’s eyes are twinkling with mischief, knowing very well that he’s pushing your boundaries right now. 
“Harder,” your choked whisper is hot against the shell of his ear. He clenches his teeth, thumb pressing down onto the swollen nub before anything. A gasp escapes you, face falling to rest in the crook of his neck, breathing uneven. His fingers pick up speed eventually, your lower stomach in knots, a shiver running down your spine. If your mouth wasn’t pressed up against his skin, you probably would’ve blabbered about how good he’s making you feel. 
It doesn’t take long for you to crest up towards the pinnacle, whole body convulsing, preparing itself for the rushing relief it’s about to experience. Mingyu, knowing very well that you’re about to finish, adds a third digit into your slippery warmth, seemingly triggering your orgasm. You muffle your cries in his neck, falling onto him as your legs give up entirely. He holds you securely with his free arm, feeling kinda dizzy himself. His neck is all slobbered up, covered with messy bites you left while trying to silence yourself. 
It takes you longer than usual to recover, finding the strength to stand on your knees. Blood rushes to your face when you regard the state of your boyfriend’s neck, even the collar of his black polo a victim to your actions. Mingyu, on the other hand, barely holding on, finally starts to pull out his fingers from your pussy, your juices leaking out on his hand profusely from the movement. A breathy whimper escapes you, nerves alight for pleasure once again. 
“Fuck, take a look at this,” He holds up his hand between you two, the slightly viscous liquid catching the sunlight and glowing, making you flush. “You treat me s’well, baby, servin’ me liquid gold.” His words only make you even more embarrassed, eyes avoiding him at all costs. The lewd sound of his slurping sends a tingle through your core, droopy eyes shyly catching him lick his fingers clean. You shudder a little when he moans satisfactorily, eyes trained on you the whole time.
In a sudden surge of boldness, you reach out to caress his jawline, bringing him closer for a kiss. Mingyu hums, a smile forming on his lips before attacking your mouth with full force. You gasp and moan while he finds his way to your tongue, the growingly familiar taste of yourself on his saliva causing a new surge of arousal to your core. Quite desperate to feel him now, you fumble with the button on his trousers blindly, undoing it quickly before reaching for the zipper. 
“Fuck,” Mingyu pulls away with a hiss, his stomach tightening from the feeling of your hand lightly pressing onto his clothed cock. Your eyes greedily devour the outline of his boner, almost poking at the material of his boxer briefs. Pussy clenching at the thought of him filling you up, you pull at the waistband of his underwear. 
“My god, Mingyu,” you swallow nervously, unsure how to react as his heavy cock springs out of its confines, slapping against his tummy. You’ve never seen it this angry and twitching, head covered with a light sheen of his pre-cum. Heart almost beating out of your chest, you reach for him, hands delicately wrapping around his length and giving it a few, slow pumps. 
“Baby, fuck—” His eyes shut close, teeth digging into his plump lower lip to restrict any noises. With your thumb, you spread the gathering pre-cum all over his tip, making him whimper in the process. If you don’t get fucked right now, you might just lose your mind. 
“Need you,” you whisper, pressing a fleeting kiss on his nose. Mingyu looks as if he’s pained, a defeated sigh escaping him. 
“My love, I– I need you too. So, so bad, can’t explain.” His eyes tear up suddenly, “B-but—” 
“What happened…?” You ask, alarmed by his expression.
“I— I don’t have a condom.” He frowns, wrapping his arms around your back and burying his face in the comfort of your chest. “I’m so sorry, baby.” Your heart drops to your stomach because of how devastating his tone is. 
“Nooo! It’s okay… um, we didn’t know this would happen, y’know? So, um, don’t apologize, please. And don’t talk like that.” You nudge him to look at you. 
“Yeah but… what are we gonna do now? We agreed to be safe from the beginning, so–”
“Well, I’m on birth control for my periods either way, so it’s okay.” You cut him off, desperate for him at this point. 
Mingyu looks up at you, hesitant. “Angel, are you really sure about that?”
A sigh escapes you. You know why he is feeling uncertain, you know that you are the reason. “Gyu, I don’t know anything, but I might just go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now.”
He inhales a shaky breath, your words toying with the few last strings of self-control left in him. “Okay, what about this — I’ll only put the tip inside, make you feel super good so you come quickly for me, and then I’ll pull out before I make a mess.” 
Your body shakes from anticipation. “Just the tip?” 
“Just the tip, baby.” 
Even though it’s not exactly what you had in your mind, you agree quickly. Anything to have him inside you. Also, you’re not too sure how that will possibly work out. You’re almost certain that you’ll end up getting more than just the tip.
Mingyu grabs your waist to position you right on top of him, the urgency in his actions painfully obvious. You gladly comply, too needy to say anything. As you feel his bulbous tip lining up against your entrance, you lean in to touch your foreheads together. “Gyu, I can’t wait anymore, need you right now.” 
With a groan, he slowly guides you down his length, only letting his tip and the following inch inside. You whimper, struggling a little as you get used to the stretch. It’s kind of astonishing how even just that fills you up satisfactorily. But still, you crave all of him, your body knowing the euphoria of having him up in the furthest nooks of your pussy very well. “You’re so big,” you murmur, inner walls clenching around him greedily, eager for more. Mingyu huffs out deep breaths, his ears turning red. How cute.
He collects himself in a moment, firm hands around your hips to make sure you don’t slide down further than he intends to give you today. “You feel s’good, so wet and hot, I feel like I’ll melt.” Mingyu sighs, helping you ride him, his thumb rolling your clit in lazy circles. 
You muffle your cries as he moves your hips in a slow and steady pace, inevitably sliding down his cock, little by little. However, he doesn’t really notice it, lost in the feeling of your pussy squeezing him so deliciously. “Gyu, harder,” you plead, a bit tired of this torturously slow pace. 
Mingyu complies almost immediately, pulling you even closer, his own hips bucking up to meet you halfway, while he continues to guide your movements. You moan out happily, arms winding around his neck. His thrusts are shallow, but the frenzied movements trigger more pleasure in you.
Eventually, he loses control over your movements, momentarily giving up against the fiery impulses running through his nerves. With all the lubrication between you two, you slide down as much as possible with nothing to restrict you. A string of incoherent words leave you, your body extremely giddy to get what you’ve wanted for so long. 
“Fuck, no, this isn’t working,” Mingyu finally regains his senses, groaning as the untouched parts of his cock are engulfed by your warmth. He swiftly pins you down on an empty side of the picnic blanket. “Bad, bad girl.” 
You squirm under him, whining while he pulls out of you, until only the tip is inside. “Now tell me, what should I do, now that you’ve broken our little deal.”
“Fuck me.” you whimper, your eyes teary by now. Mingyu tuts, shaking his head. You try your best to channel your pitiful, puppy dog eyes, ready to beg if that’s necessary.
“Such crude words from my sweet, little angel.” He sighs, “You’re really into testing my patience, aren’t you? Does it make you happy? Watching me lose my senses over your words?” 
“Don’t hold yourself back, please. I want to make you feel good too. Please, Gyu. Fuck me, make me yours, I don’t even care if people see or hear us anymore. Please.” Your voice is broken, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Mingyu swallows nervously.
“Fucking hell.” The growled expletive marks the end of whatever self-control shit he was on. With one hard thrust, he smoothly fills up your touch-starved pussy entirely, coaxing out a loud moan of relief from you. His right hand immediately covers your mouth. “You might not care about some rando catching us like this anymore but I’ll be damned if someone sees you like this.” 
Mingyu lets go of your wrists, putting his left hand on the small of your back to support your body. “Don’t you dare complain about how you can’t walk later. You brought this upon yourself, remember.” He nibbles on your earlobe teasingly before starting to move against you. His thrusts are on the rougher side, your stomach tightening as the pleasure starts to build-up. 
With your free hands, you reposition his palm covering your mouth, suckling on his fingers instead. In response, you feel his cock twitch so vividly in your pussy, a groan reverberating in his throat. “You’re a fucking menace, you know that?” 
Mingyu pounds into you in a frenzy, quite obsessed with the raw feeling of your spongy flesh gushing around his cock. You moan and cry around his fingers, clenching happily as you feel your release right around the corner. He also picks up his pace, grinding down onto your clit in the process. Your brain has lost all the critical thinking power, salty streaks running down your cheeks as you’re overwhelmed by the sensations.
You remove his fingers from your mouth, desperate to be heard. “‘m gonna come–” 
“Fuck, come for me, love, I’m gonna pull out,” Mingyu grunts, his pace faltering as his movements lose rhythm, inching closer to his own release.
“No, no— come in me, baby. Please. Don’t ruin my dress.” He has no idea what you are on about, but he’d be lying if he said that it doesn’t sound tempting.
“Princess, do you even know what you’re saying?” He still asks, praying that you come back to your senses, for both of your good.
“I want you to come in me.” You manage to blurt out before your body convulses as the orgasm hits, gummy walls squeezing his cock to a halt. Mingyu curses under his breath, putting his fingers back in your mouth before you can scream your lungs out. Soon enough, he also reaches his peak, the thick, milky white liquid filling up your pussy to the brim. 
“_____, fuck…” he whimpers, reveling in the newfound intimacy between you. You urge him to lay on top of you, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.
“Gyu,” you whisper, “you mean so much to me.” Mingyu nuzzles your face adoringly, pressing butterfly kisses over your bare skin, wherever he can reach.
“And to me, you’re like the sun.” His silly words make you laugh.
“Why’s that?” 
“Because I’m like the earth orbiting around you, thriving because of your warmth and light?”
You flush at his words, beyond touched that he’d think of you in such a beautiful way. “You make me sound so insincere, Gyu.” Mingyu laughs at your pout, starting to get back up. 
“Yeah well, I still have to figure out what your flowers mean, remember?” He reaches for the packet of napkins lying nearby, sighing at the sight in front of his eyes.
“Yeah…” you trail off, “Do that once you’re home, okay?” He nods, seemingly distracted.
“I’m sorry love, I made such a mess.” 
“We.” 
“Hm?” 
“We made a mess. So don’t be sorry. I’ll help you clean up.” You offer him a smile, which he matches happily. 
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Mingyu scrutinizes you one last time, making sure that you look presentable from head to toe. “Yeah, everything looks okay… except that your dress is all wrinkled…”
“I told you it’s fine, I’ll fix it up after a wash, don’t worry!” You reassure him, redoing your braid. “And please wash this outfit as soon as you get home, okay? I know it all dried up now, but still…” 
“I could say the same about your panties.” He chuckles, raising his eyebrows at you. 
“Yeah, but I doubt it’ll be wearable after today.” You sigh, checking yourself on your selfie camera. “C’mon, let’s go now. It’s afternoon already!” 
Mingyu hands you your basket, holding your free hand as you slowly take a few steps. “Are you sure you can walk?” 
“Yes, positive! I have to get home somehow.” You smile through a wince, making him shake his head. 
“Let’s go to my place. You can go back tomorrow morning after you’ve recovered from the pain. I’ll cook us dinner, help you take a bath, give you meds and cuddle you to sleep.” Mingyu offers, pushing off the bushes so that you guys can finally leave your little sanctuary. 
You both step out on the nearby trail, intertwining your fingers together back again. “Why do you always make it so hard to decline, Gyu?” He gives your hand a firm squeeze, winking at you playfully. 
“It’s a part of the package, baby.” His cocky chuckle infuriates you, but lord, is he right about that. 
This man might just be the end of you. But would you really mind it?
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end of act one ♡ next
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˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 end notes ꒱
wahhh you made it to the end!! thank you so much for reading 🥹🫶🏼; i apologize if there are any mistakes in there, this is very roughly edited jdjfhfjhjff!! BUT i really hope that this was enjoyable and i was able to portray the lovebirds well 🤭! do let me know what you thought of this, please! reblogs and comments are extremely appreciated <333! you can also send feedback through asks if you’d prefer that! 💖
until next time!
p.s: i’m pretty new to caratblr and i’d be grateful if you guys could recommend me some blogs to follow 🥺... (you can recommend your own blog as well)!
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themotherofhorses · 1 year
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maybe you think that you can hide (i can smell your scent from miles)
summary: let it be known that accepting defeat is not in aemond targaryen's nature. and with a witch now in his hands, the distance between you and him is only shortening.
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pairing: (somewhat) dark!aemond targaryen x fem!reader
warnings: explicit language. mentions of violence, previous smut, and child loss. male masturbation. massive obsessive tendencies on aemond's part.
notes: to quote my mom, megan thee stallion: "pressed, stressed, obsessed, i got 'em."
masterlist | series masterlist
part one | part three | part four | part five
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The rain was light. From his chamber’s windows, Aemond One Eye could see the fat raindrops fogging up the glass frames and mudding the open courtyard below, where he usually trained under Ser Criston Cole. The evening weather was peaceful and calm, very soothing, but Aemond’s mind was anything but.
He had been counting the days, as it was all he could do right now.
Three months, perhaps even four, since his own lady wife vanished, leaving no trace of herself behind.
Aemond deeply regretted not having a septon marry the two of them in the eyes of the Seven that very night that he claimed her, or whisking her away to Dragonstone in secret to wed her in the customs of his ancestors. Oh, he knew that his family would object to the marriage, but he did not care. She was his, and they could not, would not, deny that. She and the babe. They both belonged to him.
And now they were gone.
It weighed him down most days- if not all, a sort of feeling so heavy in his chest that sometimes it made it hard to breathe. Were they both alright? Safe and healthy? Had she gone against his wishes and returned to her homeland? Aemond had no way of knowing the answers and that itself was most upsetting, because what if they were dead? Or injured, with the Stranger trailing after them, awaiting the chance to rob them from him?
He shakes his head at that. I will find them, he swears to himself, while a fist clenches into a tight ball, no more of these ill thoughts.
But with no more ill-mannered thoughts come those of vengeance and punishment.
How dare she, this lady wife of his, flee from him!
He promised her everything under the golden sun and more- a plentiful and comfortable life as a princess of the realm and the mother of his heirs, as well as his very own beating heart and soul and seed. What more could the foolish girl long for? Aemond stares out the window, towards the gentle hill slopes of the realm’s countryside. The land was silvery from the rain and blanketed with a thick mist. What could her homeland provide that he could not?
He sighs before turning back to his empty bed, the left side, from where she once laid, now cold and untouched, with her sweet scent slowly fading. He hates it.
Yet some of it was still left, to his many blessings, and he brings the sheets to his nose, taking in a deep whiff.
The smell makes his cock stir and harden in his pants, and he soon grows too weak in the knees and in his resolve. He tears off his trousers and lays on the bed, his cock in one hand, and her side of the sheets in the other, his mind spinning countless images of his young bride. Every thought sent more blood rushing in between his legs, memories of her pretty body and all the marks and bruises her skin wore, her cries and whimpers, and the way her tearful eyes bore into his.
After that night, he took her more and more, in varying positions. Some new, others old. Sometimes he mounted her from behind, shoving her face down into the pillows to muffle her loud moans and screams as her hips slapped against his, and while that was pleasant, he soon realized he did not care for such. Aemond liked seeing her beautiful face twisted in pleasure and the way her breasts bounced with every thrust, and how she easily flustered whenever he leant to whisper a string of praises in her ear.
He also liked when she sat on her knees with his cock in her mouth, her tongue working wonders as she stared up at him as if he was a god and she one of those whores that belonged to the Street of Silk. But he never dared mutter those kind of words aloud, fore his lady wife was so much prettier than them damned wenches, too sweet and innocent and pure, and wholly his.
And not long after that, she began to glow, the sort that came only with motherhood.
He loved it and felt nothing but immense pride.  
Was she still glowing, and swelling with his child? Aemond was certain she was, and he could only imagine the sight, one most beautiful to man. He remembered his mother’s pregnancy with his younger brother- how her feet constantly ached, and all the times she would ask Ser Cole to fan her, or switch gowns because she grew too uncomfortable and moody.
Was it the same for his wife? Were her little feet hurting as well?
The thought of such makes him bite down hard on his bottom lip, trying his best to swallow his own grunts and moan, and with a whine so unlike him, the head of his cock weeps and spills more of his seed, down his hand and onto his thighs.
What a waste, he thinks emptily, while eyeing the mess he had made, all this belongs to her, yet the foolish girl refused to see it.  
Heaving out yet another heavy sigh, he reaches for the rag that sits to his side. What more could be done? Nothing. Foolish, foolish little girl, he clicks his tongue, all this because of you. He then calls for the maid, requesting for her to draw him a bath.
Tonight, he will dream of his lady wife and their little babe and the life they should be sharing at this very moment. He will ponder over names and if the child will favor her looks or his, and how he will need to meet with the royal seamstress for a layette. And as he sinks himself into the scalding hot waters of the bathtub, he smiles in contentment.
One-eyed Aemond Targaryen will have his wife, and his child too, by any means necessary. 
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It was after he sacked Harrenhal that Aemond finds the opportunity he had been waiting for.
The sixth month was nearing with still no sign of his little wife, though the princeling did not dare to consider admitting defeat. There was much pent-up frustration and fury within him, festering from all the damned months he faced of constant loneliness and dryness, and the riverlands faced the brute of it, most notably House Strong. In the ward of Harrenhal, at the hands and command of Prince Aemond, no Strong was spared- neither trueborn nor bastard, all but Alys Rivers.
He had previously heard that the rivers woman was an alleged woods witch, though she dabbled in other branches of the craft. Blood magic too, several little birds say as well.
It gives him an idea.
So he demands two of his knightsmen to bring to him the wet nurse, dark-haired and twice his age. When she stands in front of him, dressed in a soft emerald gown and with her bodice sullied wet from her breast milk, he does not expect for her to bat her black eyelashes and promise to warm his bed if he grants her protection.
“I can be of great use to you,” she adds, in tones thick with seduction.
But Aemond is quick to unsheathe his sword and hold it at her throat. “It should be known that I carry no love for your kind, witch, and that I dare not touch another woman who is not my wife,” he seethes, pressing the blade harder against her skin, “-either you pledge to help me find her, or I will sever your tongue. Perhaps I’ll send it to the whore of my eldest sister as a gift, seeing how she loved you Strongs so much.”
In the back stands Ser Criston Cole, biting his own tongue from saying anything. He may have been the second son of Viserys Targaryen, but Prince Aemond was the knight’s through and through.
The woman nods, and Aemond pulls back his sword. In his mind, he is giddy with excitement at the thought of finally having his dear wife back in his arms, where she belongs.
And the babe, he can hardly wait to see him too.
Alys wipes away the tiny welts of blood budding along her neckline, grimacing. She recognizes the blade as Valyrian-steel, with an edge that could have cut her head clean off. It is probably spell-forged too, she thinks. “My time and craft come with a price, Prince Aemond,” she says, steeling her voice to hide the fact that she is licking her wounds. “I expect to be paid in return.”
“Yes, I know,” Aemond hums, while sliding his sword back into its sheathe. “You will keep your life, and still have the chance for more babes to feed from your chest.”
He debates whether to bring her back to King’s Landing, in case his own children need a wet nurse, but the thought is off-putting, and he wishes not to offend his wife when she returns. Instead, he turns back to study the rivers woman. “My wife is missing,” he says, “and I wish to find her and bring her home.”
Alys frowns. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“Six months ago, in our room. She disappeared the next morning, leaving nothing behind.” Aemond sighs. “She is with child,” he says ruefully, “and I worry every day." He rubs at his temple, shaking his head. "This is her first babe, and mine as well. I have made her into a new mother with the promise to remain by her side, but now she is gone, and I haven’t the slightest clue where she might be.” The pain returns again, followed by anger and frustration, as well as the deep regret for not doing things differently.
His words give Alys a chill. She always had a soft spot for children and the young maidens that found motherhood too soon in their lives. Maybe because that was her once, so many moons ago, losing child after child well before their lives began.
She mourned so many dead babes that the thought of another girl going through the same felt sinful.
Finding sudden courage, Alys takes Aemond’s hand in hers. “Let me help you, Prince Aemond,” she tells him, all with the gentlest smile. “A father should be with his children, and a wife with her husband.”
His violet eye finds her green ones, and she catches the smallest glimmer of hope flickering within. “Thank you.”
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“Blood magic would perhaps be the best way to find your wife, my prince.”
Aemond tilts his head at Alys. “How so?” The Faith of the Seven went against magic, and harbors little love or respect towards those who practice it, and he grew up with similar sentiments. But at this point, he is too desperate to care. All he wants is her back.
May the Father and the Crone forgive him in his later years, though he has a feeling that the Mother might be rather sympathetic and understanding towards his situation.
“It is a strong and powerful craft,” Alys explains, “capable of things beyond our own understandings. This sort of magic- it has the power to deliver life and then steal it away. ”
He hums, nodding along. “And how would it work?”
Alys pauses, unsure of how to say her next words. “It would require the blood of your wife, my prince,” she says, carefully, “even just the tiniest droplet would work well. I could call upon my own gods to find her. If she pricked her finger on a needle or scraped her knee, as long as it drew fresh blood, there is no use in her hiding.” But her head then drops, and her shoulders slump too, “Yet seeing how she has been gone for so long, I do not know how it could be done, or what else to do in that matter.”
Aemond remains quiet from where he sits by the room’s hearth. He brushes his knuckles against his lips as he thinks, and thinks, and thinks some more. “Would dry blood work?”
Alys blinks. “Well, maybe?” Her mouths flatten in a line as she ponders over the idea, trying to remember if her old readings ever mentioned anything about dried blood and rituals. “I suppose so, my prince,” she replies with, fiddling with her long and thin fingers, “Blood is blood, regardless of time.”
At that, he leaves the room, only to return several minutes later carrying a single bedsheet, cream in color. Alys watches as he drapes it over the chair he had sat at, making sure to smooth out any wrinkles. When he is done, he calls for the witch to join his side, and when she stands next to him, he gestures to a bloodstain at the center, dried and a bit crusty but still obvious.
“My wife’s blood,” he says, smirking, “from the night I took her maidenhood and gave her our son.”
Alys glances at him, and her lips pull back into a smirk too. “Perfect.”
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tag list: @minttea07 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @smolnuggie911 @marahisthebest @bibli0thecary @whatsonthemirror @bellaisasleep @witchy-jadda @princeaemond1eye @mefools @xcharlottemikaelsonx @browngirl101
(if I did not tag you, it’s because it did not let me! im sorry, little love, the tumblr gods hate me today.)
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myillicitaffair · 3 months
Text
Somethin’ Stupid | Charles Leclerc
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Summary: while being interviewed by his former lover, bottled up feelings find their way out.
Warnings: english not being my mother tongue, lots of angst, some swearing, arguments.
Notes: this is the first time i’m ever posting anything on here, i hope you enjoy it xx
1.5k words.
Letting myself fall into his abrasive webs was surprisingly easy. His green orbs, pervasive and curious, piercing my soul.
We had our ups and downs, unbridled passion slowly dying with each tear shed, magnetic attraction burning my lungs.
We found ourselves in a hiatus, which found a way of prolonging itself further than I would have liked to. Perhaps he managed to keep himself occupied with his busy schedule; trainings, special dietary requirements, public relations… as for me, I rather hold my silence.
My routine was overflowed with his voice, with how much I missed his touch on my lower back, guiding me through the crowds, our hands intertwined in a tacit promise.
However, life demanded to continue with apparent normality. Dinner parties surrounded by friends, rounds of drinks avoiding alcohol… The last thing I needed was to degrade myself into a melancholic drunkenness.
Was he also having a hard time with the abysmal coldness on the other side of the bed or the loneliness of not having anyone to dilute your sorrow over morning coffee with?
My days had fallen into a sort of routine; waking up while missing him, showering while missing him, having breakfast while missing him… I think you get how thing are.
This particular morning, Silverstone was extraordinarily cloudy, the mist engulfing my view from the hotel room. How fitting!
Running away from my surreptitious misfortunes, I head downstairs, soaking up the competitive environment prior to every race. Emboldened as an agitated swarm, my colleges and me descended on the designated circuit.
Tedious security controls accompanied the anticipated fun, a hammer already pounding into my head at the thought of seeing him face to face once more.
Walking towards the space where the press was condensed, I check the days schedule for the last time. I am lucky enough to maintain friendly interactions with most drivers, so as to achieve fluid interviews, keeping the audience on the edge of their seats.
The only reason I can find as to why that fateful name is written on my list of drivers to interview was that God and I clearly have some unresolved business… funny timing to make me pay the price though!
A lump gets stuck in my throat just by thinking about it, preventing regular air flow.
The countdown only stuns me, even though my duty doesn’t start until the last lap. The smell of burnt rubber, product of speeding wheels, fills my lungs while intoxicating my nostrils.
The continuous lights turn red with overwhelming precision as seconds go by, lightning up the faces hidden with baklavas and iconic helmets.
Unconsciously (or maybe not so much), my eyes crawl back to the speeding number “16” that, red and furious, slides around the circuit while attempting to memorize every bump and curve along the way.
Chasing the sequence with collective looks of astonishment, a collision comes rushing down, disabling Piastri and Norris by the arrogance that only clear disagreements gives you.
Without further issues, the race concludes with a podium conformed by both Red Bull Racing drivers, trailed by seven time world champion Lewis Hamilton.
As possessed by group madness, the journalists rush into the victors. Microphone in hand, cameras shadowing us, content hunger gushing from our pores.
Driven by a exacerbated sadness, I shift my focus from the winners to him, returning my gaze with clouded tear ducts, bottled up frustration visible in his features.
With a touch on my shoulder, I’m brought back to reality by a co-worker, who, with a subtle shift of her head signals my awaiting obligations.
I head towards my press conference, where I take a seat with my name on it, psyching myself up for what I’m sure will be the most awkward interview of my whole career.
Dressed in Ferrari clothing and constantly stalked by flashes, both pilots near the platform where I await. They settle into their designated spots, holding still until the cameraman says otherwise.
I steal one last glance at my premeditated questions and hide my true feelings behind a focused frown.
“Welcome dear viewers! We find ourselves in the eleventh race of the year, accompanied once more by our friends from Ferrari, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz.”
I desperately try stabilizing the noticeable shake in my voice.
“Friend”- the Monegasque interrupts my monologue with a mocking remark.
The puzzled look his teammate throws in his direction doesn’t go unnoticed by the former, who insists on jointing his glistening irises with mine.
I decide to ignore the brief impasse in the speech, running away from his calculated sarcasm as I force the corners of my mouth into an attempted smile.
“so, Carlos… do you think driving behind two cars that crushed ruined your performance?”- I question, tripping over my words under Charles´s scrutiny.
“It´s safe to say it wasn’t an unexpected accident”- the Spaniard pronounces, doing his best at minimalizing the awkwardness- “for at least a couple of laps, Oscar and Lando were teasing each other, clearly trying to gain advantage over the other. They were lucky enough neither of them got hurt.”
I nod absent minded, vibrating due to the pounding against my ribcage.
“Charles, what can you tell us about your engineers’ strategy for this race?”- I swallow loudly, praying he can´t notice the mesmerizing effect he has on me.
“I guess you could say I’m not entirely satisfied with my team´s execution this season”- he confesses, minimizing the tingles of frustration running down his spine- “It would also be quite unfair dumping the blame on my team when my failure has more to do with me letting my emotions get the best of me.”
The tension is intercepted by a longing sigh I didn’t know I was withholding. The world seems to stop in its euphoria simply to hang in his every sentence.
“A broken heart is no joke… even less when you have to patiently wait for the piece they decide to donate you”- he reproaches without saying my name but making it perfectly clear that I was indeed the recipient of his raw address.
My anxious movements become motionless, forgetting the when and where, just to focus on the displeasure bubbling in my stomach.
“Guys, I really don´t think it’s appropriate to discuss this now”- intercepts the Madrilenian, proposing a ceasefire.
Mi hand goes up in the air before I can help it, shutting him up mercilessly.
“I wonder where I must´ve learned it…”- I reply, drowning in the unexpected harshness of my tone- “don´t forget who was the one to suggest this ´no strings attached´ bullshit between us.”
The drivers face shines with a scandalous blush in response to my bravado. Right here and there, I comprehend the dept of his anger, making its way through his collarbones, until it climbs up his cheeks.
“Just because I thought that’s what you wanted”- he spits out his resentful response.
From the corner of my vision, I perceive Carlos´s discomfort by reading his body language; the friction of wiping away the sweat stagnant on his hands, his shoulders pouring forward in a clumsy attempt of hiding from the cameras, his chair weakly shaking under the constant bouncing of his extremities.
Madness atrophies my reasoning, blinding me enough as to not have merci on his apprehension. I took this way too far, it would be useless to swallow my feelings.
“how in the world could you think our agreement benefitted me? Really, Charles, you couldn’t be any more stupid!”- I scream back, jumping up from my seat.
The swing of my feet gets ahead of my thoughts, allowing me to run away from the premature conflict before it blows up in the air.
Mi face heats up from the warmth of my own tears, that start rolling down my cheeks. With each involuntary spasm of my jaw, sobs escape my gasps for air. I don’t dare to slow down.
“Can you please just listen to me?”- a voice behind me shouts, trying to stand by my side.
I turn around to face his scrunched up brows.
“you have nothing else left to make up. You may convince somebody with the whole ´heartbreak boy´ façade you’ve got going on, but you have genuinely driven me mad”
“You and I both now that isn’t true! Have you ever wondered why I always seem to take a step back after every show of affection?”- he manages to freeze me to the core- “How come you never noticed my excessive efforts to stay away from you? I can’t even behave like a functional human being if I’m not feeling you, touching you, having you with me.”
In the middle of the paddock, with every pair of eyes set on us, events unfold the way I’ve been dreaming of, however I can´t even react.
“I know I´m not in a position to ask you anything, but please, strip me from the torment that uncertainty means… even if that means to completely destroy me”- he whispers with renewed fragility.
My smirk slowly becomes uncontrollable laughter, reducing me to unbridled chuckles. I shelter the vestiges of my giggling in between his arm, until It ceases in its intensity.
Without noticing, I search for his lips with my own, craving the heat they irradiate.
“I think you know perfectly well how my soul aches for you”- I manage to sneak in between kisses, stumbling across his smile, displayed in all its glory.
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pathologicalreid · 2 months
Note
hiii love! I’d love to request a fic where Spencer takes care of the reader in anyway. Fluff, angst, h/c idk my depressed ass would just love something like that 🥰
dazed days | S.R.
your job at the FBI is hard, but life with spencer is easy
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader category: fluffy with a smidge hurt/comfort content warnings: mild disassociation, crying, nondescript case related crimes, nonsexual nudity word count: 1.17k a/n: hi sweetie baby angel! thank you so much for your request, i hope you like it! additionally, thank you all for 1k followers that's absolutely insane and i love each and every one of you <333
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You hated court days.
It didn’t happen that often, usually, local police or FBI field offices were more than capable of taking care of cases after the BAU left, but sometimes team members were called in as expert witnesses.
This time, you were called in as an expert witness. It was a rough case, all of the victims were around your age, and the one surviving victim was in the courtroom too.
You never spoke about it, but sometimes it was easier for you to have faith that the survivors would get the help they needed. It was easier for you to move to the next case so that you wouldn’t have to ruminate over someone else’s pain. Today you needed to put yourself back into that case, back to two months ago when you were sat in front of families and telling them their children were gone.
And you’d need to go back tomorrow, the court didn’t come to a decision today.
Stumbling over your own feet, you dropped your bag on the ground haphazardly before you moved to the couch. You stepped out of your shoes as you did so, promising yourself you’d pick them up once the world stopped crumbling.
There were still hours before Spencer would come home from Quantico. Slowly, you pulled your blazer off and laid it over the arm of the couch before resting your head on the pillows, curling your body in on itself.
It felt like minutes later that the door opened, “Love, did you leave the door unlocked?” Spencer called out, obviously not having seen you on the couch. How long had you been lying there? When you didn’t answer, Spencer wandered around the living room before spotting you on the couch. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting. “Are you alright?”
There’s that sort of unnamable feeling where you’re perfectly fine, but the moment someone asks you if you’re fine the floodgates open. That was how you were feeling, and you looked past Spencer as your eyes filled with tears.
“Oh, honey,” he breathed, moving so that he was sitting on the couch next to you, maneuvering your body so that you were leaning on him, depending on him to keep you steady. “Have you been sleeping since you got home?”
You hummed, adjusting so that you were leaning straight back on the couch. “Not sleeping,” you mumbled.
Spencer dropped a soft kiss on your shoulder, “Just thinking?” His voice was still reverent, “Do you want to think out loud?”
Closing your eyes, you shook your head despondently. Honestly, you weren’t even sure you had been thinking at all – you were simply waiting for time to pass.
“What if you go take a shower and put on some comfortable clothes? We can get takeout and watch a movie if you want,” he offered.
You had nearly forgotten that you were still wearing slacks and a blouse, but as soon as Spencer mentioned it, you felt drawn to the idea of washing this entire day off. Silently, you stood up and walked to the bathroom.
Spencer opened the door as soon as you turned off the water, meeting you with a towel that he had just pulled out of the dryer. “Do you feel any better?” He asked, wrapping the towel around you before he tenderly kissed your forehead.
Nodding, you used part of the towel to wipe your face. He left to let you dry yourself off before you walked into your bedroom to get dressed, just to find that he had laid out comfy clothes for you, pajama shorts paired with an old CalTech sweatshirt – your favorite one to steal.
Briefly, you sat on the edge of the bed before the smell of food kindly coaxed you out into the kitchen. “You got pad Thai?”
He nodded while pulling two forks out of the silverware drawer, “It’s your favorite comfort food.” He handed you a fork before setting his down on the kitchen counter, he held a takeout container out toward you, “Pad Thai for your thoughts?”
You smiled softly as you took the container into your hands, “It’s just hard to go back sometimes, you know?”
“Back to old cases?” He asked for clarification, popping the lid off of his container and gesturing for you to lead the way to the couch.
As you walked, you noticed that everything that you had scattered when you got home had been picked up. Your shoes were on the rack by the door, and your bag had been hung on the hooks on the wall. You bashfully mumbled a thank you before sitting down on the couch. “Sometimes I have a hard time believing that we’re helping people. When I see the parents and the husbands, it’s difficult for me to recognize that finding the people who did that to their loved ones is in any way aiding them.”
Spencer nodded understandingly, “Some people find comfort in knowing that what happened to their loved one can never happen to anyone else.”
“But what about the other people? What about the people who are hurting? How do we make sure they’re taken care of?” You rebutted. That was a lot of therapy that a lot of people needed.
Setting his container on the coffee table, he took yours out of your hand and did the same before he dragged you into his lap. He placed his hands on your waist, “Do you want someone else to take your place tomorrow?”
You knew he was offering to go in your stead, but you couldn’t ask that of him. This was part of the job, and if you were lucky you wouldn’t have to go back to court until next calendar year. “No, I’ll be okay,” you reassured him, placing a hand on either one of his shoulders.
Gently, he swept a strand of hair off of your forehead, “You have such a big heart.”
Sighing, you leaned forward so your bodies were flush, resting your chin on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around him.
Momentarily, the two of you remained silent. Spencer gently slid a hand under your sweatshirt, softly skimming his fingers up and down your back.
“I know we do good stuff, but sometimes it doesn’t feel good,” you whispered, wishing there was a way you could speak more eloquently. “If you keep doing that, I’ll fall asleep,” you informed him, your eyes were already beginning to droop as a result of his ministrations.
He just hummed in response, “What do you want to do?”
You pulled away from him reluctantly, “Dinner and a movie.” Climbing off of his lap, you reached for your food again. Watching as he reached for the remote, “Wait, you got to pick last time!”
“Yes, but you’re going to pick The Parent Trap,” he responded. “So, I’ll put it on.”
You slumped back onto the couch, “Just make sure it’s the-“
He had already hit play, “1998 version, I know.”
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i-starcreamed · 11 months
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MIRAGE X READER
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hii rotb has made me fall in love with...a lot more transformers now. This is just a silly idea I had, kinda lame but idc. Being cringe and free now. Anyways, planning to make this a small series maybe? Mirage lovers where are you?? Could eventually make this a mirage x reader x Noah, love them both, really. Or you know, Noah could be a third wheel, you guys decide that
[ human!gn reader summary: You have no idea how you got into this situation. First, you were trying to steal a true beauty of a car with your friend Noah to get some extra cash with Reek working behind the scenes (apparently) And now, you were in the Porche you guys were planning to steal. Mind you, it's currently driving itself.
"Holy shit!" You yelled in terror as the car careened wildly around the curve, sending both you and Noah lurching to the left side of the vehicle. You clung onto the door handle for dear life, your heart pounding in your chest as a combination of fear and adrenaline caused you to burst out into wild laughter. Noah, on the other hand, let out an ear-splitting, high-pitched scream as he death-gripped onto the steering wheel with both hands. "STOP STOP STOP!"
The radio kept picking up a certain frequency, it was static-y but still clear enough to understand it kept reaching out towards something or someone named Mirage.
After crashing several police cars, running red lights, and being tossed around the car, the silver and blue Porche entered a warehouse of some sort and literally tossed you out onto the cement. Noah groaned as he rolled on his side. You on the other hand, didn't manage to fall onto the ground and gripped onto the seat. You thought it was over but noo, all of a sudden the car decides to transform, its component parts moving and shifting into new positions. You stare in awe and fear as the walls around you warp and bend ever so slightly; the seat beneath you shifts away from you before slowly, almost hesitantly dropping you onto the ground. You stare up and after a couple seconds, the car transformed into a fucking robot. Towering several feet in front of you and Noah, you both stare up in fear. You're a bit amazed honestly, you're staring at a giant metal dude stretch and prance around the warehouse, ranting about being cooped up this entire time.
You and Noah shared a look.
"But that was cool, you guys are cool. A bit loud, ehh, but cool." The robot stood in front of you now, his gaze focused on the both of you. You froze, Noah scrambled around to pick up a metal pipe. "Woah woah woah!" The robot held his hands up. You cursed under your breath and scrambled to get behind Noah, trying to look for anything you can use as a weapon as the robot focused on Noah. You found a couple loose bolts and nuts on the ground and scooped them up in your palm.
You approached Noah's side, menacingly brandishing the tiny screws in your hand. The robot quickly put his hands in the air. "What are you gonna do, you gonna hit me?"
You both looked at eachother. Noah shifted, adjusting his stance while still holding up the pipe. "Maybe?" The robot made a noise akin to a scoff and his left arm started transforming into something else, oh god oh fuck. Before you even had time to register it, you threw a bolt at him. It hit his arm and he froze. "Hey- what?"
You were launching bolts at him, your shots greeted with a "hey, hey, hey!" each time they clanked against his frame. You kept getting closer, pushing him back further and further, surprising yourself with your own nerve. That confidence instantly disappeared when he whipped out his arm-gun, the blue light from the barrel seemed to lock onto you and Noah, like two deer in headlights. "Can you- stop throwing those things at me?!"
"woah, woah, woah-" Noah quickly put his hands up and walked up to you, standing in front of you. "Let's all calm down, alright? Alright? We good?" "Noah, what the hell is this about?" You whisper yelled.
"I dont know! Just dont get us killed" he whisper yelled back.
You huffed defiantly, you quickly took the bat from Noah's hands and tightly gripped it. You adopted a battle-ready stance, staring down the giant robot - thing? - truly unyielding. Neither of you backed down until he put the gun down, straightening up. "Okay okay, you're brave. I like that."
Your face dropped, dumbfounded. Noah reached out and firmly snatched the bat from you, his face a mask of barely-contained irritation. "what did I fucking tell you about not trying to get us killed, dude?" He hissed.
What the hell was going on.
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writingwithfolklore · 7 months
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Writing Characters with Powers
                This is sort of a part 2 to the post I made here, in which powers/magic isn’t a part of the world but is a part of your characters. The difference being that powers or magic is unusual to the world, but has somehow appeared in your protagonist.
                Just like in worldbuilding, we need to establish the rules of the power and how it can be used.
1. It needs a limit
No matter how powerful your characters are, they need to have a limit to what they can do. This limit allows for tension and conflict, whereas a character who can do anything isn't challenged by anything, and thus can't change.
                Limits could be physical, mental, or otherwise magical. Maybe using powers is a bit like consuming poison, or being exposed to radiation, or running a marathon in a second. Maybe it’s slowly killing your protagonist, but they have to use it to achieve what they want. I read a story about a character who could heal anything, but would suffer some or all of the damage to do it.
                Maybe it’s warping their mind, or confusing reality, or distancing them from their loved ones. Does using it make them feel negative, even evil? Or does using it make them feel powerful to a fault—in danger of becoming the thing they’re trying to destroy?
                Lastly, your limit could be a part of the magic system. Powers just stop working, as though there’s an invisible mana meter that runs out. Or it’s like working out, use it less and it becomes less powerful, push it too far and it breaks.
2. Your powers are well defined
This is similar to putting a limit on powers, but is more around the power itself rather than the character. You, as the writer, need to know exactly what your character can and cannot do. If your character has fire powers, how big can they make the fire? Can they use it even when it’s humid out, or raining? Is it a fire that can be put out by water, or is it magical and eternal?
                If your character can teleport, how far? Do they need to see the area or can they teleport somewhere they can’t see? Can they teleport somewhere they’ve never been? Can they teleport out of being tied up? If so, how can they choose to take their jewelry or clothing with them?
                Make rules. Make sure you know exactly what your characters are capable of at any point in the story. Make sure your readers are aware of these rules and limitations from the get-go, and if your character is able to develop greater power, make sure it's also established with how they are able to do so.
3. There’s a risk
In a world without magic, but a character with it, what’s the risk? Consider how society would react to learning your character has magic if they don’t already know. If they do know, how has that impacted your character’s life? This step is all about worldbuilding around a world unused to magic. Who knows, who can’t find out, and what is the risk if your protagonist mixes them up?
This step is all about creating stakes. What experiences has your character had with others surrounding their power? Positive or negative?
Any other considerations when making a character with powers? Let me know in the reblogs and comments!
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neo-nomatrix · 11 months
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Rule No. 19
never fall in love with the same person twice, the second time you’ll be falling in love with the memories not the person.
Miguel O’hara x reader
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word count: 1056
synopsis: You were Miguel’s wife in another universe and he just can’t come to terms that you’re not his.
a/n: i know a lot of people are asking for part twos of my other stories but i just can’t think of anything 😭
Your death was a horrible day for Miguel. He easily blamed himself for what had happened to you. Shot twice by a random mugger off the side of the street. And he, Spiderman of all people, couldn't save you. How could he even call himself a hero after that? He held your lifeless body in his arms as he came to terms with the incident.
Miguel wouldn’t allow your killer to get away. Chasing him down the block, cornering him in an alley and slowly, almost torturing, beat the life out of him. Miguel tore at his skin with his claws, used all his strength to break his teeth, and practically ripped off the man’s hand from the wrist.
Miguel so desperately wanted him to feel pain he would do anything. But that wouldn’t bring you back, and he knew that.
Miguel had fallen in love with you for many reasons. You were beautiful, smart, funny, and the kindest person he had ever met. He knew that if you saw the person he was now you would not have fallen in love with him. When he looks at himself in the mirror he doesn’t see the man he once was, he doesn’t see the man you loved but a distorted ugly image of that man.
He knew he had changed for the worse but truthfully he didn’t care. If changing meant he got what he was after he didn’t care how it made him look.
The first time Miguel found you in another universe he was ecstatic. You had a family, a beautiful daughter and a life worth being a part of. “Your” Miguel had recently died and he thought he could replace him.
“Oh, I'm so glad you’re home. I was starting to get worried,” You kissed your husband as he walked through the door.
“Im here,” Miguel whispered as a response.
He didn’t know what to do. You were there, in front of him. Alive.
He pulled you in for the strongest kiss he had ever given you. You were slightly shocked but melted into the kiss with such love. Failing to see the tears building up in his eyes.
You were happy, so happy. Until the day it all came crashing down on him. Your world started to collapse within itself, Miguel felt like Atlas trying to hold up the universe on his shoulders. He didn’t know what to do, he was lost. Running from an inescapable situation with you and your daughter. You fell to your knees as you were running. You were glitching. Slowly, in the most painful way he could imagine both you and your daughter disappeared from his arms.
For the second time Miguel lost you, and it was his fault. From then on he vowed to only watch you from afar.
“She isn’t yours, Miguel,” Jess reminded him for what? the tenth time today?
“I know that Jess,” he practically rolled his eyes at her.
“Y’know it’s creepy. You’re basically stalking this girl who has no idea you exist. There are just some things you have to let go,” She offers her advice.
Miguel clenches his jaw at her words.
“I don’t need a therapist, alright? I’m fine dealing with this,” he says.
He’s had enough of Jess and her advice for today. Even though he won’t let himself interfere he can’t help but watch you from the rooftops. He agrees that it’s creepy but he can’t let anything else bad happen to you, he just can’t.
From everything telling him not to, he swings down to try and get closer to you. He enters the coffee shop you just went into. He doesn’t know why. He shouldn’t be here behind you in the long line. It’s not right. He’s about to turn before he’s greeted with your sweet voice. Your voice that sounds like honey and all the good things on this planet and the next.
“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering what you usually order? I’ve never been here before and I'm sort of lost,” you giggle. God, he could melt on the spot.
He knows you're lying, of course. He’s seen you in here more times than he can count. And you always get the same exact thing, every single time. In fact, you refuse to get anything different. He wants to believe you’re asking him as a way to flirt but he can’t get attached, not again.
“Oh uhm, i usually get their vienna latte,” His eyes flick up to the first thing on their menu, never having gone to this shop himself.
“And then their bear claw,” if there’s one thing he noticed about you it’s that in every universe you love a bear claw with your drink.
“Great! I’ll get that then!” You smile happily as the barista asks for the next person in line.
He didn’t realize how in love with you he really was until he spoke to you all these years later.
“Do you maybe want to sit down together? I know a park nearby,” You approach him after both of you have gotten your drinks.
“I’d…” he trails off remembering Jess’ words. He can’t, he shouldn’t, no matter how much he wants to. “I don’t think I can. I’m really sorry,” he feels horrible after seeing the look on your face. He wants to crumble up into a million pieces seeing you disappointed like that.
“No worries then. It’s okay,” you smile kindly at him. A clear tinge of sadness in your voice.
You walk off leaving him there unsure of his choice. Would one conversation really do anything? Would it tear the world apart like last time? Was he willing to risk it just to talk to you again?
The truth was yes, he was absolutely willing to risk everything for the chance to have you fall in love with him again. But he couldn’t do that to you. He stands there, heartbroken for a third time.
Even though he loves you he’s well aware you’re not his, not really. He knows that if he were to fall in love with this version of you it would be compensation for what he had lost. He would simply be trying to recreate something he couldn’t have.
Miguel loves you, but he can’t have you.
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