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kookslastbutton · 1 month

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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts imagine #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts au #fic:whatlovefeelslike #kookslastbutton

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reveluving · 5 months

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a/n: while I received so many amazing thots (I'm not even joking. I'm still cooking <3), there wasn't any for Ale at all, and it didn't feel right ☝🏼🤨 so consider this a ‘reve's asks’ for our shy!wife collection! don't forget to leave some sugar!

Includes: pre-marriage (moved in together!), future mrs vargas is a little oblivious but that's okay, he loves her for it & tooth-rotting fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

“You're so cute!”

You were at it again.

“You're a good boy,” Smooch smooch, “Yes, you are,” Smooch, “Our best boy,” Smooch, “The most distinguished gentleman in the world.”

On most days, he would find it adorable. Seeing you bond with his fluffy pal despite the less-than-pleasant assumptions many have of the breed. But with the recent deployment lasting longer than usual, resulting in his return just yesterday, he was practically dying to have your attention.

But it seemed like Great Dane had the same plan, even though he got to spend time with you all the time.

You had a knack of nuzzling Hernando’s fur, especially his stomach area, on days where you found him extremely irresistible (which was always, to be honest). The pooch barely minded the lipstick stains you would sometimes leave on his silky fur, only caring about your attention more than anything.

But sometimes, Alejandro thinks he was also acting cute for you just to spite him.

He revealed himself from behind the wall, smoothing out the front of his shirt as if he had just come down from upstairs. Hernando laid on his back, enjoying your unlimited belly rubs and head smooches.

Though he and Hernando pretty much were fighting for even an ounce of you, he'd be lying if he said seeing you, sweet little you, taming a giant beast with little to no problem.

Be it a Great Dane, who turns into a baby when you're around or a muscular colonel, who worships his beloved like his life depends on it.

“Oh, Ale,” You smiled, small and shy, slightly embarrassed at the thought of him overhearing you baby-talking yet again, “Ready to head out?”

“Si,” He grinned, reaching for your hand for a sweet kiss before whispering against your temple, “You look beautiful as always, mi amor.”

It should've been too early to feel the burn in your face. Hell, you should've expected it, especially when he has never missed a day to compliment you.

“Thank you,” You looked down for a moment, biting down the giddy smile before meeting his eyes, “You look very handsome.”

“For you, amor, it would be a crime not to look my best.” He replied with zero hesitation, even puffing up his chest at your praise. He tried not to let his gaze linger, but oh, how impossible it was not to appreciate how your curves looked in your dress.

“Come,” He offered to hold the leash, partially to monopolize your attention as you walked, but just as you tried passing it to him, Hernando huffed. He sat on the floor as soon as it was in Alejandro's hand, seemingly persistent about not wanting to move when he was barking at the door just moments ago. He grumbled under his breath, knowing what the canine was trying to do, “Ay, dios mio.”

He should've seen it coming.

The deadpan on his face softened as he heard you giggle, hiding your amusement behind your hand.

“It's okay, he's probably just grumpy that we're late.” You were supposed to take him to the park nearly half an hour ago if it weren't for Alejandro's sudden need to trap you against the wall for kisses when he saw you exited the bathroom in just a towel.

And just as he suspected, Hernando jumped to his paws the moment Alejandro returned the leash in your hands.

Typical.

Still, Alejandro was able to wrap his arm around you without his pal protesting, and he took advantage of it like no other.

If one thought getting mauled by a giant dog for making a lady uncomfortable was already scary, they'd have to think again.

Now, they'd have to worry about the same dog and his tall, dark and handsome… and intimidating owner.

But each time Alejandro managed to steal your attention for a few seconds longer, Hernando tugged at the leash. Not to the point of hurting you from the suddenness or worse, causing you to fall, but enough for the man to realize the little game he was playing at.

But for just a moment, Hernando seemed distracted by the birds near the pond.

You noticed, and Alejandro most certainly did, and to his gratefulness, you unhooked the leash from his collar. Patting his head, you said, “Go on, buddy.”

Given the green light, he immediately zoomed towards the flock, his enormous size would scare the living shit out of a grown man, let alone some pigeons.

You were about to ask Alejandro what the two of you should do while Hernando was going crazy on his own, he took you by surprise when he wrapped his arms around you before dipping you just a little. A stark resemblance to a cheesy scene in a romantic drama.

The first thing you thought of doing as he embraced you was to cover your face with your hands. You were growing hot at the thought of the people, who were just trying to enjoy nature, seeing the passion your boyfriend was exhibiting in public.

The softness in the way he spoke your name, despite his deep, gruff voice prompted you to pull your hands, away, albeit slowly. His eyes held adoration, and just a hint of jealousy, you realized. Whether or not he was concealing the rest of his enviousness was unknown, but his stare was… intense, to say the least.

With one arm around you and the other holding your hand, he leaned in and almost immediately, you closed your eyes, anticipating his lips on yours despite the possibility of being watched.

But the kiss never came. Not fully. You could feel his lips but it was nothing more than a feathery touch.

“Kiss me,” He whispered, “Kiss me, and I shall show you how much I yearn for you always.”

Letting out a shaky sigh, you shyly closed the distance, only to gasp when he returned the kiss feverishly. Like a man starved, he held you against him like a lifeline as he shamelessly groaned in the kiss.

But just as the passion clouded your mind, just as Alejandro was hoping to feel his lips against yours, you heard a bark.

And to your horror, Hernando was running towards the two of you at maximum speed.

Alejandro didn't waste any time, holding you to his chest while his back faced the Great Dane. Hernando body side-slammed into him, eliciting a grunt from Alejandro, followed by your squeal as your bodies tipped.

Alejandro was quick to turn amid the fall, being the first to hit the grass while he became your cushion.

You face planted into his chest, but it beats facing the same fate on the ground instead.

“Amor? Amor, are you okay?” He may have bore the brunt of it, but that didn't mean his worries were dispelled just yet.

You could've gotten seriously hurt!

Hernando had left the crime scene at this point, opting to play with the other dogs in the area, but Alejandro liked to think his buddy knew he was in trouble.

“I'm okay…” You raised your head with a tiny ‘ow’, only to begin fretting about falling on him. Thankfully, he laughed, a hearty one, the kind that you couldn't resist smiling at.

“I'm fine, don't worry,” Alejandro turned his head to the right, prompting you to follow his line of gaze. Hernando was having fun with a Pug and even an orange cat. One wouldn't have guessed he was the culprit of you and Alejandro's current state, “I guess he really is mad about us being late.”

You traced your fingers along his chest, “That's your fault.”

“Oh? I don't think you were very innocent either.” He teased back, not bothering to move his hands that were resting on your back, “But can you blame me? I can't let ‘Nando take up all of your attention, now that I'm back.”

“He's just feeling playful, now that you're back.”

“More like a pain in the ass,” He mumbled, only to let out a painless ‘oof’ when you smacked his chest with an ‘Ale!’. He grinned, showing off his pearly whites as a way to say he was not sorry before gripping you tighter for a bear hug, “Come here!”

He paid your squeaks and whines no mind, just content to be the one kissing you and making you laugh at that moment.

And though he'd have a little word with Hernando about nearly getting you hurt, he'd also like to say one thing.

“Thanks, hermano.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

#— reve's reverie 🌹#— reve's asks 🌹#eyes locked hands locked series #idk why but this piece gives me strong very very very by ioi vibes #the song not the lyrics :P #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x f!reader #alejandro vargas x you #colonel alejandro vargas #cod alejandro #cod alejandro vargas #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod mwii #cod mw2

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tootiecakes234 · 7 months

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Random MHA Relationship Headcanons

Includes: Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima

Katsuki Bakugo:

SFW

• Man is the most attentive. He has a great memory and knows all types of things about you which makes him an amazing gifts giver

• Starting off he’s not very comfortable with physical touch. He’s just not used to being cared for in that way. Even when he starts accepting it more, it takes him a while longer to get to a point where he will start initiating

• He’s so very blunt. You cook food and he doesn’t like it, he tells you. Pick an outfit he thinks looks bad, telling you to change immediately. Over time he gets to a point where he’s a little bit softer about HOW he says it, but he’s still gonna say it.

• Man’s does not tolerate disrespect towards you or himself but ESPECIALLY towards you! Will start blowing shit up if anyone says anything even remotely out of line to or about you.

• Yes he’s crass, he’s got sass and he can sometimes be a bit of an ass, but baby boy literally thinks you hung the moon and the stars.

Eijiro Kirishima

•Big guy falls hard and fast. You’d be on your second date and say something that makes you 2 cry from laughing and all of of sudden it just hits him and from then on out he’s whipped.

• Will never admit it, but he LOVES being little spoon. Even though he’s bigger than you, he feels so safe when you’re holding him.

•Eijiro love language is definitely quality time. Considering his life as a pro hero, he really values every minute he gets to spend with you.

• He is also the type to go into the store with full confidence when buying your period products. 100% confident in his masculinity. Now knows the exact products you need and when you’re running low. I feel like he also tries to track your cycle.

• He will 100% eat whatever you make for him. It could be a little burned, dry, or salty and he’s still going to scarf it down like it’s his favorite thing.

#bakugou drabble #bakugou x reader #imagine #katsuki bakugo mha #mha fanfiction #bakugo headcanons #drabble #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #kiribaku #bnha kirishima #kirishima eijirou #mha kirishima #kirishima x bakugou #kirishima x reader #relationship headcanons

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midnightsunnyday · 9 months

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The Contract

Diavolo: so then, I assume everyone is caught up on the rules of Extream Chessmaster: Sudden Death Edition, yes?

*everyone groans*

Diavolo: I'll take that as a resounding yes! Now then, as for the teams, Lucifer and I will be--

MC: hold it one second, mister! *pulls out a fancy slip of paper*

Diavolo: *clears throat* "And so, in the event that I, Lord Diavolo, current and acting prince of the Devildom, randomly proposes a game or event that threatens the continued health, longevity, and sanity of mortal life, hearby pronounce the human known as MC 100 free "Claim Lucifer" cards for their assured well-being, lack of death, and overall fair chance of competition." Huh. How curious.

Lucifer: how curious indeed.

Barbatos: that does look to be your handwriting, Young Master.

Lucifer: and your signature.

Diavolo: indeed they are. Though I'm not sure if I recall ever writing such a thing *smiles mischievously*

Mammon: oh, well isn't that convenient, then? Show em, MC!

MC: *pulls out tape recorder* *in Diavolo's voice* um, testing, testing. Is this thing working? *laughs* I always wanted to try that! Anyway, this recording acts as further verbal clarification that I, Lord Diavolo, current and active prince of the Devildom, did in fact write and sign the "Claim Lucifer" contract for MC under no threat of violence, lack of mental clarity, or under the influence of any substance. There, is that all? What do you mean there's more?

Diavolo: *pouts* well, that can't be fair.

MC: *fast forwards recording*

Mammon: I still don't know why you need Pridy McPrideface in the first place when ya got me, but fine! I, the GREAT Mammon, current and active Avatar of Greed and one of the seven lords of hell, blah, blah, blah, hearby announce myself as acting witness to the "Claim Lucifer" contract to avoid future denial and dismissal.

Satan: while I, Satan, Avatar of Wrath and one of the seven rulers of hell, act as signatory.

Belphegor: hm? Oh, right, what they said.

Beelzebub: and I'm also here.

Satan: now then, I need you all to sign here...and here...and here...Beel, stop drooling! And...done! There. The contract is now approved.

MC: thanks guys.

Mammon: *spats* yeah, whatever. You both owe me!

Diavolo: was all of this really necessary?

MC: *mumbles* considering how much of a brat you are, yes.

Diavolo: pardon?

MC: nothing!

Belphegor: trust us. The more grief Lucifer goes through the better. And there's no one Lucifer griefs over more than MC.

Satan: indeed. They're like a walking hazard sign. Surely he'll pass out from the stress alone.

MC: hey!

Satan: and so concludes our little meeting. Have fun...Lucifer.

MC: *ends recording*

Beelzebub: oh, yeah I remember that *drools* Those donuts were delicious.

Leviathan: so the Anti-Lucifer Leauge strikes again!

Asmodeus: leave it to Satan and Belphie.

Lucifer: *glares* Pridy McPrideface, was it?

Mammon: eek!

Barbatos: regardless, that is indeed the Young Master's voice.

Lucifer: it would seem so *frowns* Though I don't think I care that the entirety of my free will has been lessened to that of a slip of paper. Or how any of this is legal without my presence!

Mammon: eh, don't worry about it.

Asmodeus: 100 free "Claim Lucifer" slips, hm? There's no telling what one could do with those.

Leviathan: right? Imagine what would happen if they got into the wrong hands? Especially Asmo's?

Asmodeus: hey! I'm the sweetest and fairest capture you could ever have! My 100 step spa routine is to die for!

Leviathan: a 100 step spa routine? Sounds more like torture.

Diavolo: you are aware that I could just revoke all of this, yes? After all, I am a prince.

Lucifer: that would be appreciated, yes.

MC: true, you could. But then I'd never speak to you again. And can you really handle that? Can you?

Diavolo: preposterous.

MC: hm? What was that? I could've sworn I heard someone.

Diavolo: you wouldn't.

MC: ...

Diavolo: ...

MC: ...

Diavolo: ...Darn it! Lucifer, just...go.

Lucifer: *sighs and walks over to MC's side* honestly, I can't believe either of you.

MC: yay! I knew these would come in handy. Ready to win, buddy?

Lucifer: not particularly.

MC: aw, come on. It'll be fun.

Lucifer: hardly *smiles maliciously* Though not as fun as what I plan to do with one of my 100 free "Make MC Do As I Say For A Day" cards.

MC: ...I don't recall agreeing to those.

Lucifer: is that right? *pulls out a fancy slip of paper*

MC: "And so, in the event that I, MC, current and acting representative of the entire human race, use one of my 100 "Claim Lucifer" cards--" Oh, come on!

Belphegor: looks like Lucifer had this planned from the beginning. Typical.

Satan: even when he looses he wins. It's infuriating!

Mammon: hey! Just why the hell is he the only one with those cards, huh? Fork em over!

Leviathan: that's right! No monopolizing over MC. This is a democracy!

Asmodeus: yeah, what Levi said! I think.

Beelzebub: it's ok, MC. We can hang out whenever you want.

Belphegor: you're being way too nice about this, Beel.

MC: aw, thank you, Beel. You know, all of you could learn a thing or two from your younger brother. Frankly, I don't think I care that the entirety of my free will has been lessened to that of a slip of paper. I'm a human being not an item! And isn't that what matters most?

*silence*

Belphegor: ...no offense, Lord Diavolo, but I don't think I'm in the mood to play games anymore. Not that I ever was.

Satan: you're right, Belphie. In fact...Lord Diavolo, how would you like to negotiate a contract? Concerning MC, of course?

Diavolo: concerning MC, you say? Barbatos?

Barbatos: it would seem that your schedule is conveniently clear for today, Young Master.

Lucifer: how fortunate. As is mine.

MC: I don't like where this is going.

Mammon: eh, don't worry about it.

Asmodeus: ooh, ooh! I want 500 MC cards! No, one million!

Mammon: you're not thinking high enough! I want a quadrillion! Times 500 quadrillion!

Solomon, walking in with Luke and Simeon: hello everyone, sorry we're late, we--

Mammon: yeah, yeah, can't talk bye!

*everyone rushes out of the room*

Luke: uh, where is everyone going?

MC: to sign my life away.

Simeon: should we...be concerned about that?

MC: possibly.

Solomon: I suppose we should all try to stop them.

MC: YOU SUPPOSE?

Luke: can someone please tell me what's going on?

Simeon: we'll...tell you when you're older, Luke.

Luke: no fair! You always say that!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obm!swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me!#obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #midnightsunnday writes #long post

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puppyguppy · 4 months

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You’re coherent – for the moment.

At least, you think you are. Which, you suppose, confirms the suspicion. The theory. Since you’re thinking in general. Lucidly so, and about something other than – emptyheatdeepneedfilledtouchtouchtouch –

You’re still warm, you still ache, and your head and insides still throb with the same pulse of your heart. Your head feels heavy. You’re sweating, and shaking still, but it feels like the crash of a fever. Something you’re familiar with, at least, at last. Your fingers and toes hurt from flexing and curling so much, into the sheets and into themselves. And you’re still so - so wet. In places you shouldn’t be, at least not naturally; not that any of this is natural, technically. Just some fucked up side effects from a quirk. Despite how saliva pools thick and copious between your tongue and teeth, your throat feels dry. Parched. Unsatisfied. Denied, like a desert is sometimes denied the promise of a monsoon. Not that you’d been promised anything.

Nothing more than your safety and security, anyway.

Which was actually pretty amazing. More than what most people would end up with in the same situation as you. More than what you could’ve ever expected. After all, it’s not like you’re dying, even if you feel like you are. Like you will. Not like, right now, not in this sudden, blissful second of reprieve, but. Soon. Soon. Especially if you don’t get something more than some easily eaten food and fitful sleep and sponge baths. They’d told you that the quirk could wear off anywhere between three to seven days. That that was the average, though some sweat it out quicker than others. You’re not sure what day it is. Or if it’s even been a day. Of course, there was an ‘antidote’. A so-called ‘cure’ for the quirk. A ‘remedy’. A quick fix. But, not for you. Because you are single. Single, and currently under the constant, careful watch of a Pro-Hero that’d been dubbed as one with the strongest self-control. And damn-near nonexistent sex-drive. Which was, you know. Fine. Great, even. For him. And really none of your business under any other circumstances. But. You’d been hit by a quirk that more or less sends you spiralling into a horny, hazy heat like some stray street cat. Basically, you just really want some dick. Need some dick. And, supposedly, said dick would fix you right up – if you could just get it. Alas.

They considered you too dangerous to be left on your own. Since you’re single and all. They figured that if they just dropped your ass back at your apartment that you might do something you’d later regret. Which was fair. You couldn’t consent, not confidently, not completely. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, this stupid quirk also, apparently, changes your biology. So, no matter what bits someone may or may not be rockin’, they could still end up…pregnant. And you definitely didn’t want to get pregnant. Don’t. Don’t want to get pregnant. So, you are grateful. For now. For the food and the water (when you can get it down), and the sponge baths and safe place to sleep. Since that’d also been a worry, what with how hard the quirk hit you; they’d been worried you wouldn’t be able to take care of yourself while rolling through the waves. They’d been right. You’d probably be dead by now, were it not for them. Were it not for him. The Pro-Hero taking care of you. The one with unshakable self-restraint and a below zero libido. Supposedly. And long, dark, fluffy looking hair. Dark eyes, darker circles under those eyes, the shadow of stubble across his jaw…broad shoulders but lean muscles, more hair on his forearms and dusting down his knuckles, long thick fingers that only ever touch you through the filter of damp, cool fabric. Or, well, you think – maybe, maybe you remember him holding you up by the back of your head, or tilting your chin up, while you ate and drank, but it’s hard to say. You could’ve made that up. It could’ve been just one of many, many fantasies muddling your brain. Even now, they linger just on the outskirts of your thoughts, lapping at them like white noise but red. Like the Indian Ocean’s lowtide, just waiting for the right moment to swell again and drown you.

It’s crazy to think about, while you can. There are so many heroes, and yet, only one has been deemed safe enough to take care of you. As if any other wouldn’t, or couldn’t. As if it might be too much; the sight of you, the sound of you, the scent of you – whining and moaning, and writhing and crying, begging. Like they might take advantage of you, how much you think you want it, how much you think you need it, how you just might forget it. You don’t think you’re that irresistible, even under an influence such as this. Are heroes just that desperate? That greedy? Some of them, obviously. Yeah. Of course. But not this guy. Not Aizawa, who feeds you jelly pouches and bone broth, and wipes you down between fits and naps. Not Shouta, who stays an appropriate, responsible distance away from you unless absolutely necessary, and murmurs soothing nothings to you through the worst of your haze, your hunger.

The ceiling above you is some shade of grey. As are the walls, and the bedset you’ve almost melted your way through. None of them are the same shade of grey, but the lack of color is oddly relaxing. It reminds you of overcast, of rain. Of a thunder outside of your head. You crave the cold drizzle of raindrops down your spine, the chilly whisper of words along your neck, the prickle of gooseflesh beneath a blooming bruise sucked spit-soaked into your skin and left to cool. Your stomach muscles quiver, and your next inhale is a bit of a soft choke, airways slightly suffocated by spit. It’s your body warning you; you’ve waded too close to the riptide again, and you’ve got no other choice but to get dragged under. You know you won’t actually drown. You know you won’t die, even if you don’t get dicked down. And yet, something akin to fear still spikes through your chest. You’re alone, and you don’t want to be alone, you’re empty, and it hurts, you want, you need, please, please – “Please - !” “Hey,” you’re not alone. Fingers skim through the perspiration over your forehead, four of them, like sturdy logs that create a liferaft out of the back of a hand. You’re floating again, breathing again, even if all the hero’s done is prolong the inevitable. “How’re you feeling?” He asks, and while he pulls his hand away, you catch the glint of your sweat on his skin, like dewy branches in the morning. Fleetingly, filthily, you wonder what would make them snap. What would make him snap. If anything at all, could it possibly be something like you? Someone like you? How’re you feeling? “I thought heroes were supposed to help people.”

You’re pouting. You’re pissy, though that’d been unbeknownst to you until this very moment. You’d been – well. Better. Ish. Before Aizawa had started asking dumb questions. Like, how are you feeling? Like, how are you supposed to answer that?

Aizawa heaves a sigh from where he stands at the bedside, arms crossed and shoulders slouched. He looked tired. More tired than when you'd met him. He’s not always in the room with you, but is he sleeping when he's not?

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” He tries again, with the patience and forgiveness of a saint.

Yes? No? Maybe?

You're not sure.

So instead, you ask, “How long has it been?”

He blinks at you, as if startled by the question, and maybe that’s a reasonable reaction if this is the sanest you've sounded in –

“Four days, just about.”

Fuck.

So, this shit could wear off any time now. Hopefully sooner rather than later. Maybe it already is. Maybe that's why you can just barely keep up a decent conversation with the man. You hadn’t been lucky enough for three days, but maybe you won't have to make it through five. Hell, it’d probably be over now, if Aizawa just – your stomach clenches again, and this time, so do your fingers and toes. It's pleasure-pain, it's hot but hollow, and you have to force the sound from your throat into words through gritted teeth.

“I’m close,” you warn him, like you might warn a partner that you're close to cumming. But you're not. Instead, it's coming, coming towards you with all the heat and weight of a steam engine. The blare of the horn is loud between your ears, harmonising with the desperation of your own scream. You pant in time with the rhythm of wheels over the tracks; the same tracks you're tied to, squirming against iron and rope. Of course, the train isn't real, but you are tied up. Bound to the bed by something between a ribbon and a rope. It squeezes you tight, just on the wrong side of right, just like your insides could be squeezing –

“Enough.”

He growls loud and low, and it rumbles through to your core like the color of the ceiling had cracked, while white streaks across your vision, blinding like lightning. You try to look at him, but it's hard to focus through the growing storm. Through the confusion and desire howling through your head, opposing winds of hot and cold – you need to get under. Under something, someone, safe – you need the tornado chased out from inside of you, forced out, you need the eye of your storm calmed with cock – it's ridiculous, humiliating, and the last shred of your sanity rips away with the sound of tearing fabric.

Aizawa is no longer standing by the bed, but sitting on it. He’s looming over you, shoulders visibly rising and falling with the exertion of his breaths. Like it's suddenly hard for him to breathe, too. His hair obscures his eyes, the way it falls into his face, but his lips are parted. One hand is braced beside you, caving in the mattress, and the other is -

is wrapped around the handle of a knife.

The blade of that knife, however, is plunged deep into the layers of the mattress, sheets creased right up against the hilt. His grip is white-knucked, and you should be scared. You should wonder where that knife came from, worry about what it is doing here, but. The only thing you feel is jealousy; the bed getting filled instead of you. And you’d settle for that blade right about now, because it'd be better than nothing. Better than your own fingers, and you wouldn't even care where it goes. Your throat, your chest, your stomach – between your eyes, between your ribs, between your legs. Your blood is just as wet as the rest of you. If you can't sweat this damn quirk out, and he won't fuck it out, maybe at least you can bleed it out. The quirk made you horny like a cat. It didn't grant you the nine lives of one.

You tip your head back and moan like the neglected animal you are(n’t). Your eyes sting with the salt of sweat and tears. Wordlessly, you beg for that blade. Plead for him to plunge it inside of you, something surely much more satisfying than a mattress. When he starts to untie you, you think yes, yes, finally. His hands shake, his limbs like branches bending against the strength of your storm, and you realise –

He’s affected.

It shoots through you like a wildfire, and your heart stops, stomach drops, before you roll. Right onto your side, then your stomach, ass up. You're naked, have been since day one, but you haven't really considered that until now. And by considering it, you appreciate it, in pleased passing because it makes for easier access, and your brain purrs over the natural, animal state of it. In this position, fill me turns into breed me, and he’s…he’s off the bed and across the room again. You're alone again, all alone and empty, sharing the bed with a stupid knife. You’re crying, frustrated and damn near delirious, nuzzling your face into a pillow as if you can rub the quirk out that way. You can’t. And he won’t. But…you lift your head and peek at that blade through a bleary eye. Your body then moves on its own, guided by each silent syllable of thought in your brain, and before you're even fully aware of it, not that you're really aware of anything right now, you’re poised above that blade. Up on your knees, thighs spread and shaking, you’re dripping; and again, before you slowly sink yourself down onto the handle, you wonder if this will make him snap. It settles inside you lukewarm and stiff, but easy, and you clench around it like a cat’s teeth in a canary's neck. It's yours now. Your knife. And you have every intent to ride it for all it's worth, until you collapse and pass out, but before you get the chance, everything stills.

It leaves you reeling.

You almost topple over, but brace yourself with a hand against the bed. The abrupt silence within yourself leaves your ears ringing. You can't believe it – you don't believe it. That it's all over, just like that. You're still shaking, still panting. Still sore, and still seated on the handle of a knife, but you feel…fine? You blink, and then you sniffle a little, before finally looking around you, and –

“You with me?”

Aizawa's hair is standing up on end, and his eyes are glowing. Red, red, just like the color you've been feeling. It's like he's looking through you, inside of you, and it makes you shiver. You're not sure what's happening, or how his hair is doing that – moving, but you nod.

“Good. This is my quirk. I haven't used it on you yet because it only works as long as I don't blink, and I didn't want to tease you with it. I can't completely erase the quirk’s side effects, but I can momentarily ease them. Do you understand?”

You nod again, but your gut twists with a little bit of anger. You understand, but you wish he would've done this sooner. Like, maybe before you decided a knife made a decent enough dildo.

“Okay. I'm going to have to blink soon, but before I do – would you like to ride something better than my knife?”

Your eyes widen as, for the first time in days, you finally feel shame again. A blush burns all the way down to your toes.

“With the quirk’s effects currently paused, I’ll consider whatever answer you give me to be coherent. And consensual, depending.”

You should just say yes. You don't need to say yes, you know you don't. But, you want to say yes, even now, with a mostly clear head. But, you don’t say yes.

You say, “Do you want me to ride something better than your knife?”

His voice doesn't crack, it snaps. Like a twig beneath a hunter’s boot, eyes glued to his prey. His hair flutters back down around his face, leaves returning to a tree.

You hold still, hold your breath.

And wait to be shot.

“Please.”

#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #gender neutral reader #aizawa #regrettably based on yet another tiktok #quirk accident #sex quirk #dubcon #dubious consent #inappropriate use of a knife #kinda went crazy with the purple prose here

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chrrywon · 1 year

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BY MY SIDE 💌 yeonjun x gn!reader

desc. blind dates were nothing new to you and most certainly not the types of people you've encountered on said dates. when one of your friends set you up on a blind date for valentines, you were hopeful for a good outcome. while you didn't get what you were hoping for from your date, yeonjun swoops in to save the day.

(alt: ur blind date is awful but thankfully yeonjun's in love with u.)

includes. fluff, yeonjun is lowkey jealous but not in a toxic way, soft jun <3, y/n's a little oblivious tbh, poor grammar LOL

warnings. mentions of food, like one cuss word

word count. 1.6k

a/n. yes, valentines day was yesterday, yes i am still gonna post valentines content. i honestly could not choose a concept to write for yeonjun at ALL but i was listening to this song and the words just poured out of me. likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated~ hope u enjoy :D

You didn't know why you agreed to go on this blind date, but what you do know is that you regret it. This was the nth time your date bragged about his multitude of achievements as if it would make you fall for him.

Faking reactions drained you, especially since his stories weren't relatable in the slightest; he was just another rich and obnoxious person. The date was going terribly, to say the least, but you're getting free food out of it so a little acting didn't hurt.

The waitress assigned to your table arrived with the food trolley and you gawk at how delicious the food looked. Surprisingly it had only taken around 30 minutes for your food to arrive. This was impressive considering how booked the restaurant was.

Quick service, you thought to yourself.

"These people take forever to bring food," your date scoffs once the waitress was out of earshot.

You raise your brow before twirling your pasta with a fork. The restaurant was no fast food place so a wait time should've been expected. You rightfully assumed he was used to getting everything served as soon as he asked for it.

"I thought it was pretty quick," you shrug. "Not many places are as fast as this."

He sneered slightly as he poked at his steak. "I guess."

The rest of the date was silent as you two ate your food, lost in your thoughts. You were glad for the quiet but judging the look on your date's face, he was pissed about something. Fortunately for you, your food was too good to mind his shift in behavior.

Once you finished eating, the waitress came back to clean up the dishes and handed the bill to your date. He fished out a black card from his pocket with a smug look before placing it into the check presenter.

Cocky bastard, you rolled your eyes internally.

Once he got his card back, you gather your stuff and make your way out of the booth with your date following right behind. He was a very good-looking guy, so it was a shame how terrible his personality was.

"I had fun," he said as he slips his arms into his navy blue blazer. "We should do this again some time."

Your stomach twisted in guilt. Rejecting people was not your thing, so the thought of it made your heart heavy. But it's better to save yourself time than to put up with another date like this one.

"I'm sorry, but I'm just not feeling it," you slightly grimaced as soon as the words left your mouth. The smile on his face immediately dropped and he scoffed loudly. He placed his hands in his pants pockets with an offended expression.

"Fine, whatever. Good luck getting a ride home," he stormed off.

You let out the breath you've been holding and a wave of relief washes over you. Surprisingly, you felt thankful since his reaction could've been way worse. However, the sudden realization that you've just been deserted hit you. You fished out your phone in hopes of getting an Uber until you saw the messages you had missed.

Beomgyu

Yeonjun's been scolding Soobin for setting you up on that date LOL

Don't listen to him, have a great time!

(Sent - 9:43)

Yeonjun

Ur date looks like a douchebag

Have fun though

(Sent - 9:55)

You chuckle lightly before hitting the call button next to Beomgyu's name. The line rang for a short while before a loud voice made you move your phone from your ear in surprise.

"____!" You heard Beomgyu clasp his hands from the other side. "Did it go well?"

"It could've been better," you sighed. "He left me here cause I rejected him. Don't tell Yeonjun, but he was a total snob."

There was a pause. You check to see if the line disconnected but were only greeted by the call screen on your phone. "Hello?" You spoke to make sure he was still there.

"You rejected him?" A curious voice asked and you instantly recognized it as Yeonjun's. You could practically hear the smug smile on his face. He was the only one not rooting for your date to go well, so you knew was feeling cocky about it. His intuition was usually right, but you were desperate to prove him wrong.

"Hi Yeonjun," you mocked his voice. "I already know what you're gonna say. And you were right," you sighed in defeat. The gloating was unavoidable as he's known to never let it go whenever he's right.

"I told you! Guys like him are no good. Just rich assholes who think they can get their way every time."

You snort before nodding your head in agreement even though he couldn't see you. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But I need a ride. Can you come get me?"

There was another pause and you tapped your shoes on the pavement waiting for a response.

"Send the address. I'll be there as fast as I can."

After about 20 minutes, you look out the window and spot the familiar black Genesis sedan slowing down to a stop next to the sidewalk. A smile forms on your face as soon as you step foot outside the restaurant. The window rolls down and Yeonjun peeks his head from the driver's side.

"Uber for ____?" Though his voice was serious, you could see the ghost of a mischievous smile on his lips. You chuckle lightly before opening the car door.

"Yes, that is I," you go along with his joke. As soon as you sat down your nostrils were filled with the scent of the woody sage smell that always radiated off of Yeonjun. He tapped his index on the wheel to the rhythm of the RnB song playing through his speaker. From the corner of your eye, you could see how he attentively watched you put on your seatbelt with a slight smile on his lips.

"So about your date," he turned his attention to the front and began driving once he heard the click of the seatbelt. A snicker escapes his mouth at the immediate groan that left your mouth. He intended to annoy you and you knew that too.

You roll your eyes. "This was the worst yet. He didn't even try to be subtle about it. Like I was so close to falling asleep when he was explaining how much he earns."

Yeonjun laughed at your complaining. He sat and listened to you rant for a bit until you were tired recalling your experience.

He smiles fondly at you and hummed in thought for a second. "The night's still young. Wanna go for a drive around the city?"

"After the night I've had, I would love that," you sighed as you let your head lie comfortably on the headrest.

After years of knowing Yeonjun, you've never once felt uncomfortable whenever he was around. Looking back at it now, he would always be by your side after any inconvenience, minor or not. Though you knew he was caring for everyone, it still brought you peace of mind.

He turned the volume up and let the music fill the silence that took over. You quietly sang along to songs you recognized and moved your head to the groove of ones you didn't. The last thing you remember is Yeonjun telling you to get a quick nap, to which you protested.

When the car came to a stop, you stir awake. It didn't take long for you to realize that somewhere along the ride, you had fallen asleep. Yeonjun lightly tapped your arm, not aware that you had woken up. You wipe at your mouth where the feeling of drool started to become noticeable and look at him.

"____," he spoke softly. "We're here."

He exited the car first and made his way to your side to open your door. You smile lightly at him, still feeling the effects of your nap.

The park was glowing with lamps decorated with fairy lights connecting each parallel. It wasn't surprising that the place would be practically empty considering how late into the night it was. There were a few people around, but not enough to disturb the peaceful air.

"The view here is really pretty at this time of night," Yeonjun explained as you followed him to whichever area he was going. "After this, I'll drop you home and call it a night. You must be tired."

You nodded your head in agreement and sat next to him at the end of the walkway. The bench was facing the horizon and you could see all the building lights of Seoul. You gasp in awe at the scenery, unaware a place like this existed.

"I can see the company building from here!" You point out the familiar building. "You were right, it is pretty here."

You heard Yeonjun chuckle and turn to look at him. It was only then you notice how effortlessly attractive he looked with his sweatshirt and jeans. You watch as his piercings sway lightly when he turned to pick up something from his side.

"Here."

He handed you a small gift bag and you furrow your brows at him. A stifled laugh erupted from him at your expression. He used his head to signal for you to take it, which you did. "Happy Valentines, ____."

Your skeptical eyes turned into shock when you saw the words Swarovski on a jewelry box. You immediately shook your head in disbelief, nearly shoving the gift bag back into Yeonjun's hands. He was quick to hold your wrist to prevent you from handing it back to him.

"Yeonjun, are you serious?"

"Just open it," he urged you. You pout slightly before hesitantly opening the box. Inside was an infinity bracelet that you instantly recognize as the one you've been eyeing for weeks. Last time you checked, the bracelet was well over a hundred dollars.

"If your date had gone well today, I probably would've returned it." Yeonjun laughed wryly. "So take this as a confession."

"You don't have to give me an answer right now. Hell, you don't even have to accept the bracelet right now. I just hope that you'll be able to stay by my side for a long while, if not forever. Just know I'll always be there for you, whether as a friend or a lover."

#— brea writes {🍒}#yeonjun fluff #yeonjun oneshot #yeonjun txt #yeonjun ff #yeonjun x you #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun fanfic #txt fanfic #txt oneshots #txt series #txt imagines #txt fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines

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sunflowersandforgetmenots · 2 years

Text

Protected in Her Grasp ~ Dragon Eivor x Reader

An offering to the great beast that lived up in the mountains, you were terrified of this woman, this being, who had gleefully added you to her hoard. But the times of her softness, her gentle care for you, were growing more and more often. She was an attractive woman, even with her nonhuman qualities, and is it really so bad to fall into her bed?

So this went a different direction than I thought in my original description, but it still fits enough lmao. Here it is! First story for Monsterfucking July.

Potential CW: Unintentionally being caught, gross men being gross men (nothing too bad)

Tagging: Biting kink if you squint, size difference, Monsterfucking (obvi), tail riding, voice kink

Word Count: 4866

You stand, bewildered, in front of the groveling men and their pile of gifts. Not for Eivor this time, no, but for you. Gifts for the Dragon’s Bride, they said, in order to win the Dragon’s favor for their mistake of stealing her livestock down the mountain.

But you weren’t her wife. You were just another one of her possessions. A pretty gem that sits on top of the other items in her hoard, just a living one.

“But I’m not-“

“Thank you.” Her gravely voice draws everyone’s attention, deep and rough in a way that is still so regal. She’s dressed in fine leathers and furs, black horns twisting up into their sharp points. She flashes a tense smile, though it’s more like the baring of teeth, sharp fangs glinting in the torch light illuminating the snowy courtyard. “Though your lack of warning or notice of your arrival…” A growl slowly rolled from her throat, and the men started backing away from both you and the pile of gifts.

“I have to admit, it is suspicious… usually pleas for mercy are done after I lay my judgement for your crimes, not before.” She moves closer, slipping an arm around your waist in a possessive move. Eivor didn’t like visitors, especially not the male side of humanity, and you suspect that their sudden gifts made her even more unwelcoming. Her fingers stroke your side through your dress, rubbing patterns into you to relax you and ground herself.

“I swear, Dragon, it is only to please you.” The leader of the group, a burly man with a short beard, says, bolstering now that there was a level of distance from them and Eivor. “Sway your judgement in our favor, Great Dragon, and this mistake will never happen again-“

“So you seek to manipulate me using her?”

You place a hand on her chest, looking up at her silently for a moment. You had been here for a year, Eivor being your one constant companion and you hers. Despite yourself and the situation, you had grown to care for her, knowing how to calm her down and how she thinks. You knew what it was like when she was angry at the people living in her territory, it was terrifying, though the rage never directed itself at you. Despite the men’s mistake, their attitude, and their sudden appearance, you did not wish to see them burnt to a crisp if she decided to slip into her true form.

“It is alright, Eivor.” You say softly. “I… appreciate the gifts. They are lovely, and I’m sure they truly are sorry. Forgive them?”

Her expression softens the minute you make eye contact, her blue eyes once icy melting when she looks over your face. Her other hand reaches up to hold your chin, admiring your face for a moment as she considers your plea.

“Fine. As per my customs you may stay the night before you leave, though you stay out of the west wing, understood?” As she finishes her sentence, servants hurry to collect the boxes of gifts and to lead the men away, all the while, Eivor escorts you from the courtyard into the warmth of the fortress.

“Men… always expecting a reward for the bare minimum.” She growls under her breath, leading the way into her hoard room. Her tone softens as her next words direct themselves at you “But nevertheless, it seems you’ve got a start on your own hoard, little darling.”

“But I’m not a dragon.” You say, smiling a bit. The oversized armchair you sit in creaks a bit as she transforms, using her gigantic silver and black paw to push some piles of treasure and fabric to the side, making a space in the center of the room. Her tail curls around your chair, overshadowing you as she looks over. She huffs, rolling her eyes, then pushes the chair closer to her.

“But you are the lady of the house. You deserve your own space.” In this form, her voice is even deeper, even rougher, though there’s a gentleness when she speaks to you. But her words give you pause as you’re pushed closer to her, now sitting next to her giant scaled arm.

“Lady of the House?” You inquire, looking up at her. “And you did not deny that I was your wife to those men. I am… I must admit, I am confused. Am I not a part of your hoard? I was given to you as an offering.”

The dragon pauses, her blue eyes now intently focusing on you. She moves, the curved tip of her claw tilting your chin up.

“Do you not want to be married to me?” She asks, rumbling with… what appears to be sadness. “You were given to me as my wife, (Y/N).”

“I’m your WIFE?” Your face is flushed, red burning through your cheeks and ears. “But there’s been no ceremony, no…” The words next are spoken with a whisper. “Consummation.”

“Are those things needed for you to be married?” Her head tilts, spiraling horns brushing against the ceiling.

“Yes, and I haven’t been asked if I wanted to marry you.” Your heartbeat was pounding at thunderous speeds. Was she going to ask you? What would you say?

This year was much better than you had feared when you were carted up the mountain by the village’s priest. You were dressed in white, sure, but the priest had simply made you kneel in front of Eivor, while they retreated, bowing as they went. She had picked you up, wrapping her cloak around you to keep out the cold, and gave you a room, right next to hers. And indeed, you had been living as the lady of the house, decorating and directing servants, receiving the few visitors you had, and eating dinner with Eivor every night, sometimes even lunch. Exactly what you imagined the wife of a rich merchant would do.

But Eivor wasn’t a merchant, she wasn’t even human. She didn’t understand human customs or desires, all she craved was… what did she crave? Certainly, riches and luxury were things she hoarded, the whole fortress was a testament to that, much less this specific room. But with people, with relationships? She hadn’t even implied sex to you, so clearly it wasn’t something she craved. She treats you with respect, with honor, her touches were only gentle, as were her words.

During your thoughts, you turn your head away, bringing up a hand on your lips to nibble gently on your fingertips. Eivor carefully pulls her claw away, shifting back down into her human form, broad and dark in her leathers and furs. She plucks out something from a pile, then moves closer to your chair.

You look up at her, emotions and mind a whirl of confusion and, surprisingly, affection. And you watch as she gets down on both of her knees before you, bowing her head as she presents a silver earring. Not just an earring, but a piece of her hoard. A share of her prizes, of her possessions, connecting you to each other if you took it.

“(Y/N), ever since your village gave you to me, you have been placed in my heart like a burning sear. Your laugh, your eyes, everything about you sits in my mind. Though I wish I would have found you on my own, that you would have chosen to be here with me, I am glad that you are here.” She takes your hand, making your breath hitch as she turns it palm up, offering you the earring. “Will you marry me, and allow me to be your wife?”

“Yes.” You blurt out before you could even think. The earring is curled into your hand, accepted with an eagerness you didn’t know you had. “Yes, I will marry you, and you will be my wife, officially and wonderfully.” With that breath, you surge in and you kiss her lips, your own curled into a smile.

Eivor presses back, arms wrapping around your hips to hold you closer. It was chaste and short, and the look she gives you after makes you melt. It was soft, enraptured with you, brows quirked up with a smile. She presses a kiss to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth.

“Since I rule this land, we can… get married right here. In this space where you’ll always be safe. I do not wish to wait for you to see me as your wife.” She says, giddy like a young girl who just got her first kiss. “Can we, my love?”

“Whatever you wish.” Your hands cup her cheeks, holding her gently. “We can get married right here, or in ten years. I like that I… have you.” Your thumb strokes over a scar on her face, and you let out a giggle when she melts into your hand like a big puppy.

“Then do you take me to be your wife, my love?” She’s resting between your legs, still kneeling before you as she leans her weight against you, eyes full of love. It was a bit overwhelming with it all happening so fast, but it felt right. She held you like you were precious, and you are to her. You two fit intertwined, like two pieces of a puzzle, two halves of a whole.

In the glow of the sunset, rays of light bouncing off the piles of precious metals and shining jewels, you feel your heart swell. “I do.” You whisper. “Do you?” Your question is quiet, excited, brimming with what could only be described as ecstasy as she pushes herself forward and you into the chair.

“I do.” She repeats back like a promise. Then her lips devour yours, pressing into you with a deep impatient hunger. You close your eyes, throwing your arms around their rightful place on her shoulders, and melt into her.

Your kiss is intense, blinding and binding in the same breath. She stands and pulls you up into her arms, dipping you a bit as her tongue chases some hidden secret behind your teeth and under your tongue, and then around your tongue and down your throat. The forked muscle is long, able to twine around yours in a way you could only describe as sinful. This kiss was long awaited, the breaking point of a tension that had been building since you arrived, and you find yourself desperate to break it even more.

“Eivor…” You whine, hands tangling in her hair and tugging just a bit. The slits in her eyes blow out, black overtaking the blue, and she nuzzles into your neck, sharp teeth grazing over your skin in a way that makes you shake. Her tongue flicks out, brushing against you just a bit. “Gods…”

“Can I take you?” Hands roam down your back, fussing your dress up and gripping your hips through the fabric. They’re desperate, possessive, pressing you into her form like there was no other option. “Please… I will make you sing to the heavens, I will make you fly to the heavens, wherever you wish to go, my love, my wife, my mate.”

“Hard to say no to that.” You laugh a bit, following her lead with ease. She’s so easy to follow, to obey, but in a way that didn’t make you feel like you had to do so. A part of you wants to test that button, to see how much you could get away with, but she’s looking at you with such conviction that your heart wouldn’t have been able to handle doing that.

She scoops you up, arms locking around your thighs to carry you. She was hot, burning almost, and you swear that you can see faint tendrils of smoke rising from her nostrils. It curls up around your head as she brings you to a pile of her hoard. You lock your hands behind her head as she gently lays you upon it. It isn’t exactly… comfortable, but the reason why she chose this pile soon became obvious.

Eivor shoves her hand into the hoard pile, and pulls out a beautiful carved and bejeweled strap, long and thick. Your mouth hangs open and when your eyes flicker back to hers, there’s a devious grin on her face. She flicks her long tongue out, letting out a loud laugh as your eyes traced down the length of it.

“Do you even need that?”

“No, I don’t.” Dripping with confidence, she starts removing her furs and leathers, big hands popping open buttons with ease. With each one that came open, you felt heat travel between your legs. “But I want to kiss you while my cock feels your warmth. Pin you down and take you, loud enough for the idiots who brought you those inadequate gifts.” She scoffs, throwing her clothes to the side, leaving her in her pants and the wraps around her chest. “I will give you so much more, so much better. Gold carved in your image, precious stones the color of your eyes…” Her hand caresses your throat gently before grabbing your chin. “A fucking that will make you forget everything but the two of us in this room.”

The whimper that leaves you makes her lips curl up, and she moves back, letting you slip off the pile a bit, right onto her hips, thighs spread under your dress. Gods you want this, you can feel yourself dripping already through your undergarments. You watch as she runs her nail, more of a claw than anything else, down your front, tracing the folds of fabric.

RIIIP

“Eivor!” You gasp, sitting up a bit as you try to hold together the two halves of your dress. You scowl at her a bit, but it fades as she leans forward, pressing her lips to your jugular and fighting with your hands to let your dress fall open. You give in, sighing with mock annoyance. Her hands run up and down the length of your corset as she sucks on your neck, rocking her hips up into yours as marks start to litter your neck.

Was she getting off on leaving marks on you? Was this idea of showing off who you belonged to affecting her just as much as it affected you? Was she just as wet? You hope so, you hope that the dragon you now call your wife wanted you just as much as you want her, that each mark sent the same pangs of desire through her that it did through you.

“(Y/N)…” She groans, reaching around you to untie your corset. “Gods… I don’t want to wait any longer. Can I take you?”

“Whatever you wish.” You whisper, shoving your corset and torn dress to the side. You’re sitting on her thighs now, pushing yourself up to match her. “Take me. Use me… I’m your wife, but I’m more than that, I’m yours.”

There was a breathless, tense moment before she acts. It was heavy and it made your head spin, but it was nothing compared to the moment after. In a blink of an eye, Eivor pins you to the floor, holding your hands together with one of her large inked ones, and her other hand yanks your undergarments down. The ripped garment is shoved aside and she moves back, stripping herself of her own clothes. You keep your hands up and spread your legs, feeling no shame in this wanton desire coursing between the two of you.

As she slips on the strap on, beautiful and intimidating, you reach your hand down between your spread legs, sliding a finger between your neglected folds. You groan at the sensation, letting your lashes flutter a bit as you slowly gather your sweet nectar up on your fingers. They brush up and around your clit, your stomach tensing with the pressure.

“That’s it, my sweetling… make yourself feel good.” Her praise only makes you wetter, a bead of your essence sliding down the curve of your rear onto the floor. “Those sweet fingers are living a life my tongue envies.” She purrs. “But the view makes my eyes gluttonous and ignorant to its cries of jealousy.” Her hand strokes the cock of her strap on, blue eyes locked onto your pearl and opening, and how your fingers slowly dip further into yourself.

You groan loudly, head tilting back as you push into yourself. Your toes curl up. The pressure felt so good, you hadn’t touched yourself like this in months, and to have Eivor pushing you along, encouraging your debauchery, only made it sweeter.

She watches you, fingers occasionally gathering up your wetness to stroke onto the carved beast between her legs. She watches as you push yourself further along to a peak. Her proud praises echo along the hall, along with your moans of pleasure. Her thighs hold you open as you shake, and when your hand starts to slow from waves of pleasure hitting you, she takes your wrist and keeps your pace up, basically fucking you with your own hand.

That’s the thing that pushes you over, gushing just a little as your back arches and your cries bounce off the walls and piles of gold. All the while, Eivor holds your hand flush against your mons, breathing heavily and leaning over you, caging you in. Her scales glisten in the setting sun, all over her arms, her legs, her torso. She was beautiful, she was powerful, she was making you cum with your own fingers. She was nothing less than perfect.

“Good girl…” Deep in her throat, she purrs for you. “Now, let your wife in.” Your hand is freed, and you drop it next to your head, watching the space between your dripping opening and the head of her cock lessen.

Your anxiety must have been obvious, for while she rests the head of it against your opening, she stops, leaning forward to press her lips to yours briefly. “I will go slow, my dearest. I will stop if you wish for it.” The moment of comfort means more to you than you expect, but before you can dwell on that for too long, you feel the tip of the smooth wood press against your slit and you gasp.

She really does go slow, and while you’re grateful for it the first inch or so, the desire to have it pummeling into you begins to eat away at the painful stretch, turning it into pleasure. She’s filling you up, the carvings providing a delightful ridge against your inner walls. Eivor concentrates, watching your face for any sign of displeasure, and when she finds nothing but bliss, she quickly shoves in just a bit more, causing you to let out an undignified squeak that turns into a strangled moan as she finally bottoms out. The base of her strap rubs against your thighs and you spread more for her, holding your legs open with your hands hooked under your knees.

“You’re perfect… Spread out so nice for me.” Her purring fills the space around you, and she slots her face in the crook of your neck, forearms sliding under your shoulders to hold her up. The strap slowly slips backwards an inch as she moves her hips, then forward again, dragging against you.

It’s delicious, how good even a steady, slow pace can bring you to find waves of pleasure. Her breath against your neck, her hot body arching over yours to tenderly fuck you. But this wasn’t really fucking, it was soft and sweet, more about exploring and being close than pure pleasure. Your heart flutters, and you wrap your legs and arms around her, thighs locked around her waist and hands around her neck, pressing her into you.

The waves of pleasure begin to ebb in again, lifting you up onto a crest as she stretches you out. The heat rolled off of her now, not sweating but still damp, but that was probably your own sweat from holding onto her.

“Mm, Eivor.~ Just a bit more- ah!” At your plead for more, she shifts, changing the angle at which she was entering you, the base of her strap brushing against your clit as it moves in and out of you, back and forth. Instead of even strokes now, she’s pushing in quick and pulling out slow, burying into you like she was digging for treasure. Maybe she is, in her own mind. This rhythm sends you soaring, and your nails dig into her shoulders as you cry out, having met a peak for a second time, but this round, much smoother than before, easier to come down from even though its build was slow.

“That’s it… that’s my girl.” Eivor coos, keeping herself buried into your warmth as you ride out your high. Once you come back down fully, blinking up at her as your brain clears, she sits up carefully. The shift pulls a whine from your lips, just as it pulls her strap out of you. Was she leaving? You want more!

“Don’t worry love, I’m just changing positions.” You sit up as well, popping your back for a moment. She gives you the moment, leaning over and kissing your bare shoulder lovingly. “You are so soft, kjaere... Oh I am glad they chose you. You are perfect in every inch and every way.” Warmth shoots up your spine as she praises you, her fingers tracing your outline and the curve of your body like she was memorizing it. “And now, if the lady permits, shall I take you like a beast truly takes?”

A grin forms on your face. “The lady does permit.”

The words barely leave your mouth before she descends upon them once more, meeting together in a searing kiss that’s more tongue and teeth than actual lips. She turns you, tearing away from you to do so, putting you on your hands and knees on a pile of rugs that was gifted to her by a fellow dragon. You adjust a bit, the softness and pillow of the rugs a welcome relief from the cold floor.

The pile puts you at an angle, and you can feel her eyes scope over your form, probably trying to find the best way to enter you while still keeping you comfortable. Hopefully. She pushes a bit on your lower back, making you lean over on your hands, and her knee nudges open your legs. You feel her settle between your separated calves.

You turn your face over your shoulder, looking at her with doe eyes, and it’s that that breaks her resolve, whatever holding her back from just obliterating your dripping cunt disappearing. She enters you in one smooth motion.

The wooden strap fills you to your limit and you arch your back, mouth hanging open as you moan. She lets it sit, hands grabbing your hips with a bruising grip, holding you in place on her cock. She shifts her hips and lets out a grunt, and your last coherent thought is that a delightful prospect that the base was rubbing against her clit, and maybe she’d let you get a taste.

She pounds into you, sliding the strap out to its tip before burying it back in. It’s not fast, but the force behind it rocks you forward, and her hands pull you back in, meeting her in the middle. Each thrust makes you whine, or moan, or cry out in pleasure. Her sounds mingle with yours, growls and grunts that make you feel like you were truly being fucked. You make her lose her composure, you make her desire you in ways that no one else does, and those thoughts swirl in your mind as she leans over you, hips meeting yours deliciously.

Then the door creaks open, and someone enters. Eivor stops, growling low in her throat. You turn your head, face already flushing darker. You feel her claws elongate, limbs creaking with the stress of changing into her dragon form.

It was a servant, escorting two of the men who had brought you gifts, and they all stop in their tracks as they realize just what they walked in on. The servant immediately turns, looking the other way and attempting to shuffle the men back. But they spend just a second too long looking at the both of you, their eyes lingering on your curves and bits.

Eivor growls, snarling threateningly. She places her hand, now thick and scaled, on the ground in front of you, blocking much of their view of you, and her tail sweeps in front as well. “Your eyes linger on what is not yours to see. She has given you no permission, yet you linger.”

You place your hand over your face, mortified that they have seen you in such a state, in such a position. Even worse, they *liked* seeing the both of you like this. Eivor’s protection, however, calms you, warming your heart a bit as you hide behind her now monstrous features. She’s not too much larger than her human form, but she’s scalier, thicker, and you glance up at her face only to see her facial features sharpened and slightly elongated. Your heart pounds. Her power, her threat, being directed at someone else, made you even more wet.

“I want them gone. Out of my fortress, I want them stripped of dignity, any kind that they possess, like they have attempted to strip Lady (Y/N) of hers.” Eivor’s tone, so commanding and final, paired with the strap still buried in your cunt, nearly made you moan, but you managed to bite it back. You focus so hard on not giving yourself away that you barely notice their departure.

Your wife looks down at you, and you make eye contact with her. She opens her mouth to say something to you, but then, she stops, eyes scanning over your face. Shit, she noticed.

“You like this…” Eivor says, voice more like a growl in this half-form. “What is it? My behavior or my looks?” She laughs a bit, relaxing from her tense anger now that you were both alone.

“Both…” You answer honestly, turning your head back forward to hide your face in the rugs.

“Then I guess I’ll have to oblige my lady…” Her purr fills your ears, and you’re none too surprised when she takes a very sudden and shallow thrust. Even so, that does nothing to stifle the squeal that comes out of your mouth. “Oh… I need you to make that sound again, lovely.”

She thrusts into you again, shallow and quick, repeating that over and over again to make you gasp and moan. There’s still the power behind the thrust, enough to make your arms go weak and your shoulders to drop to the pile, ass arched into her fast moving hips. One of her hands is planted right next to your head, her face on the other side, breathing and grunting out praise into your ear, and the other hand is on your hip, keeping you steady as she bullies her cock into you. You feel her tail wrap around your thigh, the thick muscle pressing into your neglected clit.

It makes you gasp, the warm scales providing fiction and pressure to add onto the mind breaking thrusts. Your mouth drops open with a whine, and your spread your legs more, nearly going limp in her gasp. “Eivor…!”

“I’m going to make you forget everything. But. My. Name.” She punctuates her words with snaps of her hips, though it really wasn’t needed. You’re nearly there already, babbling out her name and half formed pleas for *more*.

Her teeth clamp down lightly on your shoulder, growling deep as she pounds into you with a feral possessiveness only a dragon could possess. The pressure builds, and you feel the coil start to snap in your gut, threatening to send you over the edge.

“Ei-Eivor- Eivor, ah-“ She scrapes her teeth over your skin a bit more, leaving scratches over your shoulder. Her tail tightens around your thigh, pressing harder against your clit.

You come undone with a loud cry, third climax hitting you harshly. Your thighs shake, and you feel Eivor’s thrusts stutter before one final push into you and holding there. Both of you ride out your orgasm, breathing in near unison.

She comes down before you do, pulling out and settling down next to you, rubbing her hands, still scaly, over your back. “Shhhh, kjaere… there you go.” She rumbles. “How was that?”

“Perfect…” You sigh, relaxing into the rugs and rolling into her side. “You’re perfect.”

“I would have to say that you’re far more perfect than I, beloved… but that can be an argument after our nap.”

“But the servants will be coming in to put the gifts in here.”

“They’ll wait. And you can wear your dress.”

“You *ripped* my dress.”

She’s silent for a moment. “Wear my tunic instead.” She sits up, pawing around for her shirt to your laughter.

She was your wife. You were hers. Everything was perfect.

#eivor x reader #Eivor Varinsdóttir #not minor safe #dragon eivor #monsterloving july #reader insert #My writing

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ironicxblue · 1 year

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Why The Mad Hatter Character Fits Izumi Sena So Well

I said I’d to a whole essay on this and I’m here to do so. Obviously this counts as a headcanon for this as an rp account. But I’m tagging it with the character in general, because it is something that other IzumiP’s might want to read. Or I at least hope so. I’ve got piles of books next to me for this.

So, let’s start off with the basics. The Mad Hatter was a character from Alice In Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll. They were originally published in the Victorian times.

Due to the time of writing, it’s often thought that the Mad Hatter was mad due to his profession. Hatters would commonly wind up with mercury poisoning, which could also affect their brain. There’s no confirmation of this within the text. Especially when you consider Wonderland to be a very whimsical world.

The modern adaptation of the Hatter has often taken on a darker tone. Rarely is he shown as whimsical, instead his pride and bad attitude are lifted from the book and instead you tend to find a much more attractive, and sometimes quite brooding character. The possible mental instability also remains, so Hatter is often a dangerous character. From Jefferson in Once Upon a Time, to Blood Dupre in the Alice in the Country Of series, The Mad Hatter is often seen as a character that you don’t want to mess with.

Now, you might be wondering, how does all this relate to Izumi. As a character, Izumi is both incredibly popular but also commonly hated. He’s proud, is supposed to be a yandere but often presents more as tsundere and is often rude to those many consider to be innocent. Sound familiar?

Here are some quotes from the original book that wouldn’t sound strange coming out of Izumi’s mouth.

“Your hair wants cutting,” said the Hatter. He had been looking at Alice for some time with great curiousity, and this was his first speech.

“You can draw water out of a water-well,” said the Hatter; ‘so I think you could draw treacle out of a treacle-well- eh, stupid?”

“I don’t think-”

“Then you shouldn’t talk,” said the Hatter.

This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear.

(Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll)

As well as that, Hatter enraged Time at a concert for the Queen of Hearts where he was singing on stage. Now, I imagine he wasn’t supposed to be a good singer, but it does highlight that the character was a performer.

So with the Hatter we have a blunt, rude character who has been known to take a turn on the stage and has made important figures mad. The character already fits Izumi.

Now, moving onto the modern interpretations.

I’ve mentioned how they’re often quite dark, and there are definitely those that fit the yandere trope quite well. These are characters who have quite often lost something and are mad about it. Something has pushed them to brink where others might decry them as ‘mad’ even if their actual mental health isn’t in question. Something has happened to them to make them a ticking time bomb.

That is something we have with Izumi.

We know he’s a difficult character. We know he still holds onto his anger from the war-era. We know he feels guilty about Leo, and there’s also his relationship with Makoto where he’s vastly trying to overcompensate it.

These are aspects of his character which haven’t really been touched in the !! era though. Though Izumi has seemingly moved on from a lot of it, there are definite aspects that he never had closure on. We’ve seen that he still hates Eichi in Sudden Death and the guilt over Leo was still somewhat there in Next Door. Which is the whole reason he dragged him back to Italy with him.

There is a darkness and a selfishness to Izumi and he feels terrible about it. He has regrets in the past, he has somewhat experienced loss and the way he reacts to things often has people looking at him like he’s strange because he does overcompensate.

At the end of the On the Beautiful Golden Drop music video, we had Izumi pull a horrible face. As someone who likes to be seen as beautiful, this might seem hilarious and out of character. But it works for the role he’s playing. A role he might see as fitting of him. And we also know from Butlers that when it comes to acting he’ll take as many takes as he need to present the character exactly right. So this could just be part of the role. And hell, the Euthanasia story and Little Romance didn’t exactly line up.

But other character stories and center songs since have.

Naru dealt with her feelings for Kunigi and we had a Swan Lake theme for Mystic Fragrance.

Leo’s story for Coruscate Breeze was about how he’s struggling less because he has his friends around and he’s healing. The song and the video was cute, and fun.

So it would make sense that for this Izumi center that we’re dealing with his darker side again. And the Mad Hatter is a great way to showcase this.

We have a beautiful man who sometimes shows an ugly side, who’s mental stability is maybe a little questionable who has lost something in the past and is still dealing with that anger. But hey, he’s still moving around the table, so it doesn’t really matter if someone else gets a worse end of the stick.

This could be great for Izumi and we could see him begin to move on and heal from some things.

But we could also see him go in the other direction, as the Hatter often does, and that too is very exciting.

#aiming for perfection // headcanons #izumi sena

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acecreamcone · 7 months

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Percy Jackson trailer just dropped. I am barely functioning. Was close to tears at the minotaur scene. Sally Jackson... But Camp Half-Blood! And Chiron! And Grover and Annabeth! He's going to blow up his Maths teacher. I need December to come so bad.

But anyway, I wanted to make Chalice of the Gods hopes/predictions before next week, and luckily, I had a draft ready so I don't have to worry about forming a complete, coherent thought right now!

The Hopes:

I really need Percy and Annabeth to talk about what happened in Tartarus, specifically what happened with Percy suffocating Akhlys. I know Percy talked to Jason and Annabeh talked to Piper, but we haven't seen them talk to each other and that is so important. Annabeth admitted to being scared of Percy and that isn't something that just goes away. They have time to breathe now, so they also have time to talk.

While we're at it, Grover should probably have a talk with Percy as well. The empathy link is still there so throughout the whole of Heroes of Olympus, Grover would've been feeling Percy's confusion at where he is and who he is, his sudden fear of drowning, his anxiety at Annabeth leaving for her quest, his pure, unfiltered rage at Akhlys. Even though he didn't physically go through it, you can imagine that at times it was debilitating for Grover.

Percy finding out/caring for his mum while she's pregnant. It would be nice if there was some cute moments like Percy making her food or bringing her pillows whenever she needs it. I can imagine a scene before the quest begins or after it's ended where the three are just talking in the living room with Sally and Paul, blue cookies on the table and talking to the baby with mixed sentiments of, "I can't wait to meet you," and "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

Some scenes of Percy and Annabeth preparing for college. I can see them getting gifts for each other for their dorms. Maybe Percy takes Annabeth book shopping. Maybe Annabeth buys Percy anything blue she can get her hands on. Maybe it's super-specific stuff they had to commission from Rachel or Tyson because their life is just that wild. Grover would definitely help them pack and just eat any of the rubbish scattered around Percy's room and admire Calypso's moonlace.

Callbacks to the first book would be great, or even any of the rest of the series, especially considering what the first line is (not going to say it in case of spoilers). Imagine if they pass a pet shop and Annabeth's like, "You could've been in there," and points at the hamster cages. Imagine the trio just chatting, talking about relationships, and they ask Grover, "So if you guys get married, is she wearing the dress or are you?" and they all agree he'd be an amazing bride. Imagine if they ended up back at Hoover Dam and Percy has a moment because the last time he was there, Annabeth wasn't there. Annabeth was held captive, holding up the sky. The last time they were there, Zoey was still alive.

A signature Rick Riordan cliffhanger because that means there will be more!

I don't expect all of these to happen. I don't know how unrealistic all this is, and I'm pretty sure a few of these don't really fit into the timeline, but honestly I've just been having too much fun thinking of things that could happen to care.

#Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Chalice of the Gods #Percy Jackson #Annabeth Chase #Grover Underwood #Original

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akiizayoi4869 · 28 days

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I need to talk about one of my favorite video game villains of all time for a minute.

This guy. The one who I'm pretty sure a lot of people who played The Legend Of Heroes: Trails Of Cold Steel 3 and 4, probably ended up hating for how much of a dick he was in those two games. His change in behavior and attitude in the later games didn't make me hate him, though. In fact, it made me like his character even more because it was pretty easy to understand why Cedric ends up like that when you consider the events of the finale in the second Cold Steel game:

He was kidnapped by Duke Cayenne during the Civil War in Erebonia and was forced into one of the seven divine knights, Testarossa, which went completely berserk since Cedric was unable to control it's power at the time. As a result, he was forced to fight against Class VII, who ended up saving him, but at a great cost to one of their own classmates. Crow ends up dying, trying to break Cedric free from Testarossa. Cedric saw all of this happening before his eyes and couldn't do anything to stop it. So it's really no wonder that, when we see him again in Cold Steel 3, his demeanor has changed entirely, and he's obsessed with obtaining power. He goes from the sweet, innocent boy whom we are introduced to in the first Trails of Cold Steel game into someone who is pretty much unrecognizable and with his own little crew.

His sudden change was a shock to me at first. I really wasn't expecting it at all, especially since when he first appeared, he spoke politely. It wasn't until his conversation with Rean on the school rooftop later on that day that we see just how much he's actually changed. The conversation starts out well enough, with Cedric thanking Rean for saving him in the last game. We can clearly see what happened back then really took its toll on Cedric, and that it still weighed heavily on him.

He tells Rean that during the summer after that incident, he got very sick and, as a result, was unable to start school at Thors Military Academy until the following year. Nothing seems odd... until Cedric proposes that Rean should transfer to teahc at Cedric's school, the main campus of Thors Military Academy. This is when we see his demeanor start to change. He talks down about the branch campus and says that someone like Rean is better suited for the main campus, which Cedric holds in high regard in comparison to the branch campus. Rean's students eventually find them on the rooftop, and Cedric is cold towards them, especially to Kurt. He then leaves, but not before saying that he'll be back to hear Rean's response to his demands another day.

Over the course of the game, we see just how much Cedric changed. He's competitive, thinks that power is everything, and absolutely hates weakness. He constantly talks down to others and doesn't care how he makes them feel as a result. The end of Cold Steel 3 really showed just how far Cedric was willing to go to get what he wanted.

He attempts to kill another one of Rean's students, Altina, so that she could become the sword of the end, which was needed to bring about the Great Twilight. He was also completely ok with having his older brother and two other people killed to accomplish this goal (even though as we saw in the 4th game, he was relieved to see that his brother has survived). These two acts really shocked me, because not only did it show a stark contrast to who Cedric was before versus who he was now, it highlighted just how much the events of Cold Steel 2 really changed him, and not for the better.

Cedric becomes one of the main antagonists of Cold Steel 4, and he proves himself as a strong enemy to take down. He was way more of a jerk here than in Cold Steel 3, and it has really seemed as if he has gone off the deep end for good. Then we get to the final chapter of Cold Steel 4, where Cedric is one of the final boss battle fights. He's still the same condescending jerk that he's been for a while now, but everything changes when Juna asked him one question: "What are you so afraid of?" Then all of a sudden, the truth comes out: Cedric was being controlled by the influence of Ishmelga, thanks to Chancellor Osborne and Franz Reinford. Now, this certainly doesn't excuse what Cedric has done up to this point, but it certainly explained why he was willing to go so far all of a sudden, when he hadn't been like that before. It was as if Juna asking him that question had suddenly opened a dam though, because this was what finally made Cedric return to how he used to be. What I absolutely loved about this is that he doesn't try and use Ishmelga as an excuse for the things that he did. He owns up to his actions and sets out to atone for them.

What he eventually chooses to do though was shocking, but it made sense: he decides to join Oroboros, leaving his friends and family behind.

Just as he says, if he stayed with all of them, he knew that he would be forgiven in spite of everything and he wouldn't really have any consequences for his actions. So joining Oroboros as a way to atone for what he did was the right call imo. Cedric's arc is probably one of my favorite ones in Cold Steel 3 and 4. It was very well done and Falcom handled him really well, and I can't wait to see more of him in future games.

#The Legend Of Heroes: Trails Of Cold Steel 3 #The Legend Of Heroes: Trails Of Cold Steel 4 #sen no kiseki #Cedric Reise Arnor #the legend of heroes

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moonlessdusk · 1 year

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Thoughts on Warrior Cats: Shadow

I can already tell lots of people won’t like the last fourth of Shadow, from Frostpaw’s abrupt vision, to Nightheart’s easy acceptance back in to ThunderClan, to Sunbeam deciding to live in ThunderClan to be with Nightheart.

I don’t have much to say on Frostpaw’s chapters other than it’s frustrating to see her still crawl back to and confide in Splashtail when just about every interaction she has with him ends with her being annoyed, feeling like he’s not actually listening to her, and trying to make her reconsider if she’s actually meant to be a medicine cat instead of a warrior. It was great to see her train as one though! I loved how her training gave her a new sense of confidence! Harelight is also a precious guy and seems to be very patient for someone that’s never had an apprentice before. I’m certain now that Splashtail was scrambling when Frostpaw said planned to see Whistlepaw and was the one that attacked her. It could very well have been Mallownose or the other cats that had the meeting with Berryheart’s group but Mallownose seems kinda pathetic? Also he seemed genuinely shocked when Splashtail mentioned manipulating someone. I don’t think Icewing is particularly suspicious but that’s just because she’s right about RiverClan not being able to keep it together without supervision. Other than that, pretty insane that someone put a thorn in Scorchfur’s prey and everyone intended to watch as this man choke. Like wouldn’t this be the equivalent of putting a razor in your classmate’s apple and everyone stands by as the school nurse doesn’t really try that hard to push past the wall of kids blocking the way?

In ShadowClan, I can’t believe everyone so easily agreed to bumping the tasks up to three trials just because Berryheart, random not even senior warrior Berryheart, made a public stink of it. The entire idea of the trials is also ridiculous because they’re not standardized. I can get Tigerstar letting Berryheart come up with them because she won’t be easy on outsiders but it’s baffling that it seems like she's not required to consult him before the trial actually starts. Also on the trials not being standardized, you can argue that a cat would be able to practice if they saw someone else do it, and because it’s Berryheart she want to make these trials as dangerous as possible, but again, it feels like the leaders should have more input to ensure the fairness. Or like have a warrior in the Clan test run it to ensure it’s actually possible. Berryheart almost got Fringewhisker killed once and Nightheart killed twice, three times if you consider the rats and the tress separate instances. It just feels odd that no one demands more accountability from her.

Sunbeam’s chapters felt weirdly bland as they mostly osculate between the usual thinking about Berryheart’s xenophobia or being a camera to observe the trials. She’s sent to be a RiverClan guard, which was promptly time skipped until the return trip with Lightleap where Lightleap continues to be a bad friend in brushing off Sunbeam until she starts talking about mates. Sunbeam and Nightheart spy on the meeting Berryheart’s group has with Splashtail’s group which felt like such a nothing chapter because neither of them do anything significant with that decision other than a conversation with Berryheart that goes nowhere and the only worthwhile thing is that Needletail was mentioned but nowhere near as much as she should have been. I get why, Sunbeam was afraid to say anything at the time but the way her last chapter goes and how she turns up at the end of the end of Nightheart’s chapter makes it seem like in all that time she didn’t tell Tigerstar anything and I don’t get why because especially if she planned on leaving, there wouldn’t have been anything to hold her back. Her 180 on Nightheart felt sudden but I feel like that was a pacing issue since time did go by. She knows and the reader knows that Nightheart’s decision to stay was a spur of the moment choice but it feels like she should have some kind of lasting grudge over the second guy that picked something else over her? The narrative tells us that Sunbeam’s choice was made because she didn’t have friends that really understood her or family she could connect to (nevermind Spireclaw I guess), and the frustrating part is that she’s right just because the writing doesn’t do enough to show us how Sunbeam feels about anyone not directly connected to Lightleap or Berryheart.

Nightheart suddenly becomes mature and appreciative of his clan and family and it genuinely felt like I missed something. I read the book in one go and the only things I can pull from memory are the conversation he had with Dovewing, which by the end of the chapter felt like he didn’t really take it to heart? He apologizes to people, which was cool. I’m confused on the writing choice of Squirrelflight being sympathetic to him on his first visit but colder during his return. Most of ThunderClan just stops bullying him when he comes back, which felt odd. Cherryfall was a weird choice to be one of those characters considering she’s generally really upbeat and friendly but at least it gave us what was probably Eaglewing’s first moment of characterization. I guess the writers are too scared to kill Lionblaze off despite the fact he’s no one’s favorite because he seems to be the writer’s go-to when they need someone aggressively hostile, along side Molewhisker and Bumblestripe. I find it weird that Thornclaw knows about Pinestar at all. I guess his mom and dad were alive when he was still around though and maybe told him that as a cautionary tale and Pinestar was the cause for a rule in the warrior code. But also the part about ThunderClan falling into chaos after is just wrong from what we know. Crossing my fingers that Bramblestar actually abdicates and Squirrelstar elects anyone that’s not directly related to her as deputy, especially not Lionblaze :P

#warrior cats spoilers #wc spoilers #warrior cats shadow spoilers #warrior cats asc spoilers

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sleepless-in-southlands · 2 years

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Offer Me that Deathless Death

Ao3

Summary: Luke just wanted to get some diamonds for Mumbo. It should have been fast. It should have been easy. Or: Luke hasn't died once since coming to Hermitcraft. That's not a streak that can last. Content: Hurt/comfort; temp character death (minecraft respawn), fear of death, panic attack, self-esteem issues, mumbo being a good boyfriend Ship: Lucky Jumbo (Mumbo Jumbo/Luke Carder) Note: Part three of Lucky Jumbo

Looking back on it, it was stupid. Luke could admit that. It was stupid.

It’s just… Luke couldn’t do much in Hermitcraft. He wasn’t a builder, especially not considering what the hermits considered ‘basic’ builds. He was hopeless with redstone, though he was trying his absolute best to learn it for Mumbo. He couldn’t even really fight, and that was almost impressive given how much damage his sword could do even if he just accidentally dropped it.

Mumbo- hell, everyone- had taken every opportunity to let Luke know it was fine, he was welcomed and appreciated in Hermitcraft even if he couldn’t do anything too exciting. And Luke was doing his best to learn everything he could so he could eventually have some sort of claim to hermithood. But in the meantime, he did feel a bit. Well. Useless.

He just wanted to be able to do something, that was all. Not necessarily anything big or important, just something. Something to show he was trying. That he was really part of Hermitcraft.

So when Mumbo made an offhand comment at breakfast about how he was running low on diamonds, Luke decided he saw his opportunity. Mumbo would spend the day running between his farms, restocking Harmless Harvests, and Luke would spend it getting him more diamonds, because that’s what boyfriends who couldn’t build or redstone or fight or make functioning shops did.

After all, mining couldn’t be too hard, right? Just find a cave, find the random squares of light blue, attack them with a pick, profit. He could do this.

Luke could not do this.

Caving? Caving was scary. It was dark and it was filled with monsters and there was too much lava and random drops everywhere and you couldn’t even start looking for diamonds unless you went really, really deep. Luke was already an hour in and all he had to show for it was a handful of lapis and a good couple of bruises the golden carrots were still working on.

The smart thing to do, of course, would be to give up. No one would ever know he failed, so there’d be no shame. And he doubted he was really going to find enough diamonds to make the trip worthwhile anyways.

But Luke couldn’t bring himself to go back. He felt like he had to do this. To show he could do something. If nothing else, to show he could be more to Mumbo than just a leech.

Mumbo said he was a very cute leech, which was some level of comfort, but Luke wanted to be more than just cute.

So he kept going. Dodged the monsters best he could. Brushed off the falls best he could. Come Hell, or high water, or lava, or whatever other deadly substances these caves held, Luke was going to bring back some diamonds.

It took another hour, but he actually managed to find some. Not that he ever doubted he would, but… well… okay, he had been doubting it. But it was okay! Because he had pressed on and found the diamonds and now he could take however many were in this vein and then leave because even one diamond felt like a complete victory at this point.

Luke was even more delighted to find there was definitely more than one diamond, and not just because the ores that looked like they should hold piles of precious gems only ever held one. He stepped into the little niche in the wall he created with his mining, hoping he had, perhaps, gotten lucky with a larger vein. He could always tell Mumbo later it was multiple one diamond veins. That would make him look cooler.

And it was all going great… right up until he heard the grinding clink of bones bumping against bones, his only warning before there was a sudden searing pain in his shoulder.

He swiveled around immediately, dropping his pick and moving to clutch at the shaft of the arrow now embedded in his back. His skeleton attacker was already loading another arrow, having stored them God knows where on its body. Luke’s free hand flew to his pockets, searching wildly for a golden carrot, only to find he was out. He had thought this would be fast. He hadn’t packed enough.

The second arrow hit him dead center in his chest, digging deep enough in Luke wouldn’t be surprised if you could see the tip out his back. Luke was lucky (carder, ha!) that Hermitcraft didn’t have blood for whatever reason, but seeing the arrow just… in his chest was viciously unnerving.

The skeleton notched his bow once more, even as Luke was still considering the second injury. The pain of both arrows were beginning to fully sink in, Luke leaning against the stone wall beside him as he tried to take a deep breath. He didn’t think he could take another hit… but he also didn’t think he had a say in the matter.

He was going to die again. After finally finding somewhere new to settle down, after meeting Mumbo, he was going to be killed again. By a skeleton. In a deep, dark, far off cave. Where no one would ever find his body.

The skeleton pointed its arrow directly at Luke’s face. Oh, the universe truly was cruel.

And that was Luke’s last complete thought before the world went dark.

The time between Luke being killed by Amanda and ending up in Hermitcraft’s sky was murky and painful, from what he could remember of it. It was coloured by nothing but darkness, and an inescapable pain that somehow managed to run its course through every single one of his nerve endings. The feeling faded when he arrived in Hermitcraft, so he had assumed that the whole experience was just… how death felt.

So when the skeleton shot him that third time, Luke assumed he was about to end up in the same situation. Maybe worse, because maybe this time he wouldn’t end up anywhere, he would just be stuck in darkness and pain for the rest of time, existence reduced down to a suffering whose only upside was the inability to think about everything he had lost.

Instead of that, however, there was just a moment of nothing. Truly, legitimately, nothing. There was no light, no dark, no pain. Was Luke even sensing anything? Was this the void that lived right beneath flat earth Hermitcraft?

And then he was back with no warning, eyes opening back to his room as Luke realized he was tangled in his bed sheets as if it had just been a nightmare. But his pockets were empty, and he was sore at every point the skeleton had shot, a headache pounding in his skull for the killshot, and oh god he had just died again.

Luke sat up a bit too fast, wincing as each formerly injured spot on him protested the motion, one hand curling around his chest as if he would still find the arrow embedded there. He had died. He had been shot, again, and died, again, and yet somehow he was still in Hermitcraft, not falling through the sky, just in bed like everything was fine. Nothing was fine. He had died. Again.

All things considered, Luke thought he was handling things well. Could he be described as having a crisis? Sure. But he wasn’t actively panicking! He was just having a moment to himself. To think. People were allowed to do that.

People were also allowed to start feeling like they were shaking, or maybe like they were being shook. Shaking is a normal people thing. And they could suddenly take in a long breath and feel it burn like it had been a bit since the last one. That happens! It was even possible they could begin to halluc- oh no that’s Mumbo, Mumbo’s here now, that was probably better than the hallucination approach.

“Luke? Luke, can you hear me?” Funny how Mumbo would ask that, as if Luke had perhaps not been hearing him earlier. Luke could hear just fine. He was just a bit lost in thought. Lots of thought. Like the thoughts about how he had just fucking died again-

Apparently deeming Luke’s complete lack of a response unsatisfactory, Mumbo started lightly patting him over, as though he might find an injury. That was one of the (many) things Luke appreciated about Mumbo- when he got worried, he got very physically touchy. It was nice. Somewhat grounding.

Especially when his hands ended up cupping Luke's face. Warm and soft and very nice. Luke pressed his face closer into the hold, Mumbo letting out a sigh that sounded mixed between amusement and concern.

“Oh, Luke.” Mumbo shuffled a bit closer, pressing his legs against Luke's. “I came over as soon as I saw the death message. What happened?”

Ah, death. Luke didn't really want to talk about that. "Nothing.”

Mumbo frowned. “You were shaking and clawing at your chest when I came in. And you weren't really… reacting to anything I was saying right off.”

"...I didn't know what was going to happen.” Luke admitted very quietly, trying to feel even a little less pathetic than he knew he was being right then. He had seen the others on the server die and come back before. He knew that happened for them. It wasn't really a huge leap in logic to say the same would happen to him. “It just- snuck up on me and I was out of carrots and I didn't know-”

Luke cut himself off as Mumbo tugged him into a hug, burying his face in Mumbo's shoulder while his boyfriend made his best attempts at holding him as close as possible. It was all hitting him now, the pain, the fear, truly believing this was it for his Hermitcraft days. He wasn’t ready to lose everything again.

“You won’t lose anything else.” Mumbo murmured, either because he could guess what Luke was thinking or because Luke had accidentally been speaking out loud. Both options were equally likely. “I’m right here, you’re okay.”

“I died, Mumbo.”

“Join the club.” Mumbo half-heartedly joked, slotting his head on top of Luke’s. “Hermitcraft’s not a one-and-done. We have respawns. You get to stay, every time.”

“I know.” Luke replied, because he did know. He had seen it, been told it. In Hermitcraft, coming back after death was the norm, even if you weren’t Cleo. “But that doesn’t- I can’t- not again-”

Mumbo pulled back, Luke wincing at how pained his expression had become. He put a hand back to Luke’s cheek, Luke once more leaning into the touch while Mumbo thought and he did his best to not.

After a long moment, Mumbo abruptly stood up, kissing the top of Luke’s head and promising to be right back before rushing off. Luke only had a moment to mourn his absence before he had returned, panting a bit as he once again took a seat on the bed beside Luke. He was clutching something in his hand, glints of gold showing through his fingers.

“Bow your head a bit?” Confused, Luke did as Mumbo requested, understanding slightly more when he felt a string passing over his head and coming to rest against the back of his neck. He looked down, finding the charm of the necklace must have been what was in Mumbo’s hand: a golden, humanoid figure with emerald green eyes.

“It’s called a Totem of Undying.” Mumbo explained as Luke looked back up at him. “If you get dealt a deadly hit, it will kick in and give you enough regen to survive and run. Doesn’t work if it’s in your pockets, and it can get a bit tedious to always carry in hand, so most people take to wearing them as jewelry when needed.”

Luke wrapped a hand around the totem, the metal feeling as warm as something alive. “This… are these rare?”

“A bit.” Mumbo shrugged. “But I have more if you ever need them. It’s hardly like I ever use them anyways… and even if I did, you need them more.”

“Mumbo-”

Mumbo gently took Luke’s free hand into his own, entwining their fingers and looking surprisingly serious. “I’m not letting you die again. Not if I can help it.”

Luke squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Mumbo kissed his cheek, Luke returning the gesture before Mumbo could fully pull back and enjoying the soft look he got in response. “How are you feeling now?”

“Much better. Though a bit tired for someone who just woke up.”

“Death’s hard.” Mumbo responded, immediately beginning to prod Luke into lying back down, now with Mumbo slipping under the covers and snuggling up against his back. Luke had learned he had little to no qualms sleeping in his non-pajama suit, which most days he would tease him for. Right then, however, he was content to let them lie.

“Can I ask how you ran into a skeleton anyways? It’s daylight.”

“I was in some caves.”

“Why were you in caves?!”

“...You said you were running out of diamonds?”

Mumbo bumped his head against the back of Luke’s disapprovingly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Luke huffed a laugh. “I was trying to be a good boyfriend.”

“You’re already a great boyfriend, you don’t need diamonds for that.”

“I’m a useless boyfriend, Mumbo.”

“Is this about me calling you a cute leech? I was joking. And you are cute.”

Luke rolled over, ignoring the noise of protest made before he rearranged himself to be facing him. “You weren’t wrong.”

For his efforts of turning over, Luke got his forehead bumped instead of the back of his head. “Hermitcraft has something for everyone. Just because we haven’t figured out your thing yet doesn’t mean you’re useless.”

“What if my thing is being unable to do anything?”

“Then I’m sure you’ll be the best at failing everything.” Mumbo answered, somehow managing to make his words sound like a compliment, even though Luke would have taken it as an insult from anyone else. “Including sleeping, apparently.”

“You’re the one who started talking first!”

“Shh. Sleep time.”

“You’re impossible.” Luke said heatlessly even as he obliged, wrapping his arms around Mumbo and relishing how the totem around his neck lightly dug into his chest with Mumbo so close.

Despite the circumstances that had led to this moment, recently or otherwise, this was living. This was life.

#lucky jumbo #luke carder #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft #inscryption #m.y funky words #luke is So consciously oblivious #first ignorin bein in love with mumbo and then he has a Moment and he's jus 'oh this is normal everyone struggles to breathe sometimes' sir.

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