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worldlxvlys · 1 day

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sorry

part eight of the CRUSH series

bsf! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: violence, mentions of blood, smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, squirting, cursing

a/n -> read the previous part for context !!!

matt let out a dry chuckle at the pet name, “baby?” he spoke slowly, as though the word was one that only he could use when addressing me.

“um, matt…this is dylan. remember the guy i told you i was talking to?” i spoke hesitantly. matt looked him up and down, his glare never faltering as he nodded lightly.

“dylan, this is-” “matt” dylan finished for me, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone. “she’s spoken a lot about you” he told matt, “i don’t really get the hype, but…” he mumbled under his breath, earning a slap to the chest from me.

dylan was usually a sweet, well-mannered guy. i don’t know why he was acting this way towards matt, only having just met him, but i wasn’t going to allow him to speak to him like that.

“that’s funny, didn’t hear a word about you until today” matt spoke, pressing his lips together with his eyebrows raised.

dylan opened his mouth to respond, but i spoke up before he could continue, “what are you doing here dylan?” i asked. i didn’t appreciate him showing up out of the blue, knowing damn well that i already had plans. he had only been to my house one time prior, to drop me off food when i wasn’t feeling well. i would’ve texted matt, but he had already been pissed off that day, and i didn’t want to be a burden to him.

“i figured i’d come see you, make sure you were doing ok, meet this best friend you’re always on about”

“well, here he is” i smiled awkwardly, praying that dylan would just leave. he seemed like a decent guy, but the way he interacted with matt told me everything i needed to know.

“you can go now” matt stated quite bluntly. he was obviously over the situation, and i couldn’t say i blamed him. “i don’t think it’s really up to you to kick me out, it’s not your house” dylan spoke smugly. who the fuck was this dude ? he acted so differently over text than he did in person.

“if matt isn’t comfortable with you here then i’m not either” i spoke up. dylan didn’t seem to like that response, his jaw clenching as he glanced at matt.

“hmmm, that’s interesting. you didn’t have that attitude a couple days ago, you practically begged me to stay” he smirked down at me. he was just pulling things out of his ass at this point.

“i was sick and i didn’t beg you for shit. i never asked for you to do anything, you took it upon yourself to stay” i clarified, knowing he was just trying to get under matt’s skin.

“so what, now you’re ungrateful ? you got your little boyfriend back and now i don’t matter to you? you just needed someone to keep your bed warm, is that it ?” he asked.

"what are you even talking about ? i never let your weird ass in my bed” his jaw tightened at that, he was growing angrier by the minute.

“i’m talking about you leading me on. who was there for you while your buddy here abandoned you ?” dylan asked, poking his finger into matt’s chest. matt immediately reacted to the touch, slapping his hand away.

matt’s silence throughout the entire conversation was a dead giveaway of how pissed off he was. his eyes held a blank look, and i had no clue what he was thinking. all i knew was this wasn’t going to end well.

“there for me? you were there for you. you didn’t even listen to a word i was saying. if you had, you would’ve realized that i never once gave any indication that i liked you. i wanted a friend and you clearly just wanted to get in my pants.”

“be honest, if matt wasn’t standing here, you’d let me. you can deny it all you want, but deep down you know it’s true. you’d take dick anywhere you can g-” one second he was talking, the next he was cut off by a sickening crack.

i didn’t even realize matt had thrown a punch until i saw dylan stagger backwards, the sheer force of matt’s fist causing him to lose his balance.

it almost seemed as though everything was moving in slow motion as i watched matt grab him by his shirt, holding dylan up to look in his eyes. matt’s eyes bounced between dylan’s before he let out a low chuckle, “you didn’t think i was just gonna let you talk to her like that, did you?”

dylan’s nose was bruised pretty badly, blood trickling out of it as he stared at matt with a blank expression. he was trying to hide it, but it was pretty clear that he was terrified.

“tell her you’re sorry” matt spoke, pulling him to stand up straight. instead of speaking, dylan just glared at matt, refusing to follow his commands.

“do i need to say it slower for you? you can either apologize or i can give you something other than that broken nose to worry about” matt’s voice was gruff and cold, something i wasn’t used to. i’d be lying if i said i didn’t find it hot.

dylan looked down at the ground, avoiding eye contact as he muttered, “i’m sorry” in an annoyed tone. matt wasn’t having that shit.

his grip on dylan’s shirt tightened, his knuckles turning white as he got in his face once more. “look her in the eyes, and say it like you mean it.” he spoke firmly.

dylan closed his eyes in annoyance, before opening them and looking at me. “i’m sorry” he said, making it seem more believable. "great” matt spoke shortly giving him a quick push away from the doorway.

“bye” he raised his eyebrows before pushing the door shut and locking it. he turned to look at me, his hands resting on my shoulders, “are you ok?” he asked softly.

“yeah. are you?” i asked, staring at his knuckles, which were starting to bruise. “as long as you are, yeah” he spoke, his thumb gently rubbing my jaw.

i lifted my head slightly, looking into his eyes. i watched as his eyes moved around my face, observing my features. his thumb traced the outline of my lips, while his eyes fixated on them.

he blinked slowly, his mouth hanging open slightly as though he was in a trance. his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, a few strands of his hair falling into his face.

we both stayed in that position, examining each other, waiting for the other to make a move. my breath hitched when matt’s free hand slid down to my waist, rubbing the skin under my shirt.

his cool hand traveled to the small of my back, the difference in our body temperatures sending a shiver up my spine. realizing he had no intentions of making a move, i wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, pulling his lips to mine.

the sudden action pulled a low moan from matt, as he kissed back immediately. it was merely a tender brush of our lips, leaving a fluttering sensation in my stomach. i felt matt smile against my lips just before i pulled away, eyes still closed.

when i felt matt’s forehead pressed against mine, my eyes opened to look into his again. “what was that for?” he asked, his thumb running along the bare skin of my back.

“it’s my way of thanking you” i told him, grabbing the hand that was on my face and bringing it to my lips. i placed a soft kiss to his knuckles before intertwining our hands. “in that case, i think i deserve some more thanking” he smiled before placing his lips onto mine again.

the kiss went from hesitant to heated fairly quickly, matt’s hands sliding down to lightly squeeze my butt. he pulled me towards the couch, detaching our lips for a minute to pull me on top of him, before his mouth found mine again.

matt’s hand wrapped around my neck as he tilted my head back, leaving kisses to my jaw. his nose brushed against my skin as he left open-mouthed kisses down my neck. i let out breathy moans as he nibbled on the skin, his fingers sliding under the thin material of my shorts to brush over my skin.

he let out an audible groan when he felt the lack of clothing under my shorts. “no panties?” he asked, continuing to caress the supple skin under his fingers.

i shook my head shyly, a moan of surprise leaving my lips at the feeling of his finger against my bare pussy. “you’re so wet, baby. you weren’t gonna say anything?” he asked. before i could answer, he left a quick slap to my ass.

“get up for a second, pretty girl” he told me, watching as i followed his instructions, standing in front of him. “take off your shorts” he ordered, pupils blown wide as he watched me kick off my shorts.

“good. now sit on my face” he spoke, his bluntness catching me off guard. “what?” i asked, eyes widened. “i have some making up to do. so be a good girl and ride my face” he spoke, his eyebrows raised.

he moved to lay down on the couch, holding his hand out. i took his hand, crawling over him and hovering over his face. i lowered myself onto him slowly, letting out a squeal as he wrapped his arms around my thighs and pulled me down onto him swiftly.

i rested my hands on the arm of the couch, clutching onto it for dear life as his tongue explored every inch of my heat. his grip on my thighs was bruising as he lapped at the wetness that dripped out of me.

my loud moans continually filled the room as i rocked my hips against his face desperately. he swept his tongue through every fold meticulously, not leaving an inch of my core untouched.

his face was red, eyes rolled into the back of his head as he lost himself in the taste of my essence. he seemed to be in his own world, the only thing occupying his mind being his face buried in my pussy.

his hands slid to my ass, alternating between striking the skin with his palm and rubbing it in soothing circles. he went from giving me slow, languid strokes in a long stripe to quick kitten licks all over my heat.

“yes, matt! right there, holy shit” i cried out rather loudly, feeling him smirk against me. he licked and licked at my puffy lips, the pleasure shooting through me becoming almost overwhelming.

he adjusted the angle of his head, titling it forward slightly, hitting my clit perfectly with each push forward of my hips. i screamed out at that feeling, my toes curling up and eyes screwing shut.

“matt! i’m close, so close” i whined as he pushed a finger into my entrance from behind, earning a loud moan from me. “yes, matt! don’t stop, oh my god”

he plunged his finger in and out me, the sloshing of liquid accompanying it, alerting matt to what was coming. “you gonna squirt for me, beautiful? you got it, let it go baby” he muttered against me, causing my body to shake on top of him.

“fuck! yes, yes, yes” i chanted as the liquid spewed out of me, drenching matt’s face in my pleasure. shortly after, white beads of my arousal dripped out of my hole. “shit” i spoke, letting out a deep breath as i lifted myself off of matt.

“bath or shower?” matt asked, his face and hair drenched in my orgasm. “shower, i can return the favor in there” i answered as he interlocked our fingers.

“oh, no need to. that was really hot” he spoke, leaning in to whisper in my ear, “i came while you were on my face” he spoke, leaving a kiss to my cheek.

he flashed a cheeky grin at my shocked expression, before pulling me by the hand towards the bathroom.

the last way i thought this night would end was with matt being pussy drunk. not that i was complaining.

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @matthewscherrypie @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris @selenascorner

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bueckers · 2 days

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 - 𝐏𝐁

a/n: hiii! new blog but not new to wbb or writing, i’m infact true to this! masterlist & blog introduction soon but i thought i’d get a fic out first (this is lowkey long but bare with me).

summary: in which the pleasure elicits a confession.

warning(s): smut with plot! fingering, fear of being caught, praising, pet names, scissoring, some angst at the end, idk paige is absolutely obsessed with you..

pairing: paige bueckers x fem reader

You hadn’t particularly expected yourself to get sexually involved with the star athlete of UConn, but it kinda just happened.

You’d met Paige Bueckers through Azzi Fudd during yours and hers junior year. Hitting it off with her and the team was no problem. You got along with everyone and it was one of the many qualities that could be admired, but Paige found a sense of comfort with you.

During the start of her recovery, she found it hard to go back to going out like she used to. But the one night she’d decided to make an appearance for the first time since tearing her ACL, she met you and it changed everything. You had morals that changed her perspective, a bright smile that lured her in, and confidence that wasn’t too cocky to be deemed unattractive. You were everything.

From hangouts with the group to study sessions and finally hanging out alone, you found yourselves entirely comfortable with one another. So much so that the team had gotten so used to seeing you together, that they asked where the other was when you were by yourself.

One night when Paige had decided to stay over at your dorm, you’d been wrapped up in a conversation about relationships and the complexity that came with them. You both had similar ideas just like you did on nearly everything. Paige not being able to really commit to anybody with her busy schedule, and you just simply not being into dating. It never went well for you. The last girl fucked up and if there was one thing you always got sick of, it was waiting for people to change.

An idea sparked your mind, and just like always, you spoke it. It was a suggestion that would possibly change your dynamic forever, but as Paige watched the words slip out of your mouth and your eyes dart between her lips and eyes; something you always did but it seemed different this time, she couldn’t say no. It felt like a bad idea. She really liked you and wasn’t sure where that would lead the two of you, but she would’ve taken any part of you she could get her hands on.

Now, a little less than a year later, it was safe to say your dynamic had changed. Completely. Paige was at the highest point in her career, her popularity only expanding just everyday. Your casual sex continued, but the more intimate you got, the more Paige found it hard to deny the feelings she felt for you. She distanced herself. You didn’t talk the way you used to and surely didn’t hangout the way you used to, because those hangouts always turned into more.

You missed Paige. You had her but you didn’t have her, and although you knew what your suggestion would bring, you still couldn’t pinpoint why she couldn’t open up to you anymore. Why she avoided conversing with you alone. It was an abrupt change from the comfortability she’d showed when everything first started, exploring each other in ways past imagination because that’s what the agreement was for. But everything changed so quickly, and Paige found more meaning in the words she whispered while reaching her high, more meaning in the flirty jokes, and more meaning in your lingering gazes. She over-analyzed everything, and it was fucking driving her crazy.

Nobody knew. You couldn’t even fix your lips to tell Azzi how you’d been hooking up with her best friend. You were sure everyone had an idea though; paige could hide a lot of things physically but the glint in her eyes when she looked at you was undeniable, and although KK and a few others had pointed it out jokingly, you two brushed it off like it was nothing.

Currently, you’d been sitting at a table with some of the team members at the bar. It had been getting late despite you only being on your second drink and not feeling a bit of it, engrossed in a conversation with Aubrey about all kinds of things. Sometimes you wished you were a lightweight.

A few minutes later, Paige slid onto the stool next to you, but you didn’t acknowledge her. You hadn’t talked to her in a little bit over a week, and finally decided that if she wanted to play the distant game, you would too. She seemed a little tipsy to you, her continuous movements you caught in the corner of your eye proving so. You could admit she looked good when she first walked in. She must’ve worn braids to practice or something because her wavy locks had been flowing over her broad shoulders, a look she knew you fell weak to.

Your attention averted at the sound of Azzi’s voice. “I’m heading out!” She announced loud enough for her friends to hear. They bid her with goodbyes as you began to gather your things, stopping at the feeling of Paige’s hand creeping up on your thigh. She turned to you, a look on your face that you could’ve mistakened for a slight pout.

“I wanna take you home,” was as all she said, and your eyebrows furrowed for a moment. You understood her words, but found it hard to comprehend as her thumb began stroking the crease dangerously close to your center.

Regaining composure, you cleared your throat. “‘S okay. I rode with Az, she can take me home,” You replied almost sharply. You didn’t question her silence over the past week, not in the mood to cause a scene; just responded like everything was normal, yet one thing you could never hide was an attitude.

As you turned to get up, content with the few words exchanged, Paige twirled your stool back around to her with her opposite hand, stopping you. “I wanna take you home,” She stated again, her voice low but firm. You knew Azzi had been stalling as she waited for you, so as you locked eyes with Paige’s piercing blue hues, you knew what you had to do. What felt right but so wrong.

Averting your gaze, you whipped your head to Azzi’s direction, immediately catching her eye and jerking your head to the side slightly to indicate that Paige would be taking care of you (in more ways than one). She gave you a knowing look, causing you to roll your eyes and spin back around to Paige. She had her suspicions, but they weren’t confirmed so it didn’t matter.

As soon as you did so, Paige easily stepped down from the barstool, grabbing your hand so she could help you down, a bigger challenge for your height. “We’re heading out too,” She stated simply, and the crew eyed your exchange, little chuckles escaping their lips. The entire group had their conspiracies about you two, simply because they’d never seen Paige act like this around any other girl.

Saying your goodbyes, you hadn’t realized Paige’s hand still interlocked with yours as she looked around the bar, seemingly antsy and ready to go as you said goodbye to her teammates. As you dragged her out, she glanced down at your hands, quick to pull them apart and cover it up by reaching to slip her lanyard out of her pocket, the ringing of the keys interrupting the silence.

You only stared at her a second longer before sighing, licking your lips as you crossed your arms. Your position didn’t falter the entire way there, and the walk from the campus bar to Paige’s dorm felt like ages.

“Is there a reason for that lil’ attitude you got?” Paige chirped, the two of you barely making it through the door as she walked in before you, her back turned as she flung her keys to the counter. You scrunched your face up as you shut the door behind you, your arms finally uncrossed.

“What are you talking about?” You asked in fake oblivion. You were aware of the sharpness in your tone when you first replied to her. Your demeanor the whole walk here even.

Paige only chuckled, turning around swiftly as she leaned against the island. “Heard it there too,” she said, pointing out the way you’d responded. “I do something?”

It was your turn to chuckle, audibly shocked that she had the nerve to even ask such a thing. “How’d you decide that tonight was the perfect night to have sex with me again after ignoring me for a week?” You ask rhetorically, a smile on your face. You wanted to punch the stupid smirk off of hers. She was too cocky for her own good, and you knew your words would only ignite that trait.

“If you wanted me sooner you could’ve hit me up, you know this,” She replied, her arms now crossed over her chest as her tongue swarmed her mouth. She was amused.

You scoffed, walking closer as you spoke which was something you tended to do when you were upset. You got in people’s faces. “That’s not the point, Paige.” You stuttered out, looking for the right words. Only Paige could make your normally nimble-minded self stutter at such a comeback.

Her eyes scanned your face. “Then what is the point, mama?” Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden pet name. This girl knew you in and out and she was using it to her advantage. It hurt, but you blamed yourself.

You stopped in front of her, trying not to let her looks get the best of you as you bit down on your lip. “You’ve been distant,” you mumbled, avoiding her gaze as you stared at the ground. You felt pathetic— something you’d only felt a few days out of the year. It was rare. “And I hate it.” You finally emphasized, peering up at Paige who seemed to have lost any of her previous confidence at your words.

Her lips were plump and parted as she stared at you. It was enough to know you’d noticed and that you cared, but she didn’t want to address it, she wanted to kiss you. In one swift motion, she dropped her arms to their respective places, like a default and they knew where to go: one gripping your waist like her life depended on it, and the other cupping your face like she was being handed something she was told to take care of.

Your body trembled as you softened underneath her, your lips automatically moving against hers as you used all your pent-up emotions to keep up with her. You’d forgotten all about your said attitude and the way Paige had totally dismissed the conversation, but right now, it was the last thing you cared about.

Her tongue slipped into your mouth, eliciting a whine from you at the quickness that made Paige’s knees buck. She loved to hear you. She loved any sound you made. You made her weak.

“Can never get e-fucking-nough of you,” she breathed out, the comment more to herself. It was words like these that made you question how casual your hooking up was. She got so poetic and warm in the world of sex with you, and you loved it. It didn’t matter if she was praising or belittling you because you would eat it up every damn time.

Your hands roam through the waves of her hair, finding a spot that you comfortably grip and tug, the motion causing Paige’s lips to part from yours as her head tilted back slightly. You brought your lips down to her jaw, peppering kisses down the line and to her neck as you held her by her hair, Paige smiling above you. It always started like this— a constant fight for dominance that Paige always won. It was why she’d been smiling so hard.

It didn’t take long for you to find that good spot of hers, her smile instantly becoming a face of pure satisfaction as you sucked a light hickey onto her neck within seconds. You never did that because you knew Paige would only have to cover it up, but it felt right.

As Paige’s hands hooked under your legs and hoisted you up, you yelped, following the gesture with a giggly laugh that Paige couldn’t help but crack a smile at. She missed you. “Tired of standing,” she mumbled, carrying you to her bedroom. During the short way there, your lips had found her face again, never getting enough of all of the places you could leave a wet, sensual peck.

Setting you down at the edge of the bed, Paige turned around so she could shut and lock the door. She slid her UConn sweatshirt off in the process, pivoting back to you as you sat there in all your glory, laid back on your elbows. Paige immediately got to work, pulling off your pants as she hovered over you, her bottom lip sitting snug in between her teeth.

Glancing up at her, you immediately wanted her closer as she took them off painfully slow, and as soon as she was done throwing them into a corner of her room, she didn’t have any time to fully turn her head before you were pulling her into you, kissing her eagerly for the second time that night.

Her hands roamed beneath your engulfed bodies as her mind already knew where everything was without having to look. If there was one thing she learned from having sex with you, it was your body. She knew it as if it were a topic she’d studied for hours. Her fingers glided over your clothed cunt, causing your body to squirm at the unexpected touch.

She smiled into the kiss at your reaction and the feeling of your wetness, her body falling next to you as she propped herself up with her elbow. She pushed the fabric to the side with two fingers, her lips continually moving against yours as she circled your clit. Without warning, she pushed her two middle fingers into you. You never needed much foreplay because of how wet you got so easily, but that was a gift only Paige received.

You instantly pulled away from the blonde at the feeling, your head glancing down to her moving fingers as your mouth fell agape. Paige’s hooded eyes stared at the side of your face as your head eventually settled back onto her leaned arm with a gasp. She licked her lips, looking at the way her fingers moved in and out of you so effortlessly. “Look, baby. Doin’ so good for me.” She praised, your moans sounding like music to her ears as your eyes fluttered shut.

Suddenly, she curled her fingers, eliciting a loud, pornographic moan from the depths of your throat. “I told you to look,” she stated firmly. You opened your eyes slowly but surely as Paige lifted her arm underneath you so your head was at an elevated angle to see the bottom half of your body, and you swore you would come simply at the sight and Paige’s strength that had been showcased from her holding you. “So fuckin’ pretty,” she cooed. Another praise. Paige never cursed, but when she got in bed with you, it was inevitable.

“I’m gonna come, baby,” you told her, and although your mind had been completely fucked out, you were still good at picking out the things Paige got weak about, which realistically would be everything, including when you called her baby.

Her breathing picked up, the room becoming hot. “Yeah? Can’t wait any longer?” Paige questioned, and you automatically shook your head through moans, turning to look at Paige who had her eyes locked on you. She took a snapshot of you with her eyes, a picture she would frame in the Louvre if given the chance.

“N-no. Can’t wai— fuck!” You came undone on Paige’s fingers with a loud groan as her pace quickened inside of you, your juices coating her fingers. She couldn’t revert her gaze from your glistening cunt and the way it reflected on her slender hands, getting an urge to taste you, yet she held off.

Your chest heaved as she slowed down, a noise being made as she slipped out of you. You laid back once more despite the fact that Paige’s arm must’ve fallen asleep by now, watching through half-shut eyes as her fingers came into view. She shoved them into your mouth, her lips parting as she tilted her head slightly and watched you lick your own slick.

“Mmm,” she mumbled, nearly drooling as you grabbed her hand with your own, pushing her digits further into your mouth. You indulged at your own pace, peering up at her, knowing the thrill it would give her. Your tongue slid between the two fingers, working its way to slurp everything off. Finally, Paige had enough.

She forced her fingers out of your mouth, sliding out with a pop because of how tight you’d wrapped around them. She got up and made her way around the bed, settling with her back against the headboard. You followed her there with a crawl, laying in between her slightly spread legs as you leaned into kiss her. As your lips moved, you felt the urge for more, pulling away abruptly. Catching your breath, Paige couldn’t control her own as she looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What?” She breathed out, her hands still cupping your cheeks.

You looked down, your head moving in between her cupped hands. “Too many clothes.” You panted, prompting a smile from Paige who was quick to lift her hips up, your bottom halves crashing for a moment as she slipped her sweatpants off, throwing them off the side of the bed. You followed suit with your shirt, leaving you in a lacy, purple bra that made your tits look fucking phenomenal.

Paige leaned back against the headboard, taking in the sight as you sat up before her, teasingly running your hand up the strap of your bra while you looked down. You knew what you were doing, purple is Paige’s favorite color. Eventually, you brought both hands to the clasp in the back, finally glancing at Paige who seemed to be stuck in a daze. You smirked slightly, not tearing your eyes away from her as your tits fell from its holder, and Paige was ready to dive into you.

“C’mere.” Her voice was husk as she whispered for you to come closer, and you obeyed, crawling back to your previous position between her legs with a smirk. Thinking Paige was going to kiss you once more, you brought your lips closer to her, but she dipped her head to your collarbone, her mouth immediately getting to work as you moaned softly, bringing your hand up to play with her hair.

She began sucking, and you swore you started to feel dizzy. You glanced down at the pink-ish mark forming on your skin above the place she’d now been getting to work on, making you a bit confused in the mist of your heavy breathing before you glanced down at the spot on Paige’s neck that had now been a dark purple color. You didn’t think she’d noticed, but obliviously she had. Paige knew it wouldn’t be a good look to her friends, but she didn’t care. It was fair game and she couldn’t resist you.

She then moved down, beginning to fondle with your breasts. She massaged one with one hand, attaching her lips to the other, her tongue swarming your nipple. “Missed you so much.” You whimpered, bringing your hand around to tuck her hair behind her ear, getting a good sight of her. How pretty she looked beneath you like this was all you could think about.

A few moments later, she pulled her lips away, seemingly content with the work she’d done. She hastily pulled her boxers down afterwards, you following eagerly with your soaked panties, the same ones Paige hadn’t even bothered to pull down when fingering you. Just as the two of you tangled your legs together, your beating cunts an inch away from igniting the longing pleasure, the jingle of keys and distinct chatter interrupted the moment, making you whip your head around towards the door.

You could make out the voices of Amari and Ice, realizing they must’ve left a little bit after you and Paige. The walls were too thin for this.

Without notice, Paige pressed her bottom half into you, making you moan out. She was quick to cover your mouth before you could yourself, your eyebrows furrowing through pleasure and fear of being caught. “You know I love hearin’ you but you’re gonna have to be quiet for me, baby, okay?” she whispered, making you nod. Although the chances of being caught were high because of the unlocked door, the warmth of Paige’s clit hitting yours over and over was enough to make you forget about all of that.

You moved against her in a way Paige thought was painfully slow, a bead of sweat already forming at the top of her head as you both couldn’t tear your eyes away from where your bodies interlocked. She brought you down to her face, peppering soft kisses to your lips as you could barely build up the strength to kiss her back, all of it going into the way you moved.

Through low curses and pants, you finally mustered the strength to move your hand to Paige’s cunt, her reaction resulting in her dropping the hand previously over your mouth, her bones feeble. “Shit, keep going,” Paige murmured, her words enough to make you speed up your motions. Your hips bucked back and forth on her, whining as you tried to get as much as friction as possible.

Paige’s hands shot down to your waist, gripping them as she admired the way her fingers molded into your skin. They trailed down to your ass, her head tilting to the side a bit so she could get a good view of the way you looked from behind. She couldn’t quite fathom how you looked good in every position.

Dazed and breathless, you both felt your high bubbling within you as you continuously moved, the sound and smell of sex filling the room. “Paige, I’mmm.. fu— almost..” you could barely get any words out, but the blonde could make out what you were trying to say as she pushed her hips up further, getting any resistance she could.

“I’m right with you, fuck,” Paige dragged her words out, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to hold off a little longer, but she physically couldn’t. Her stamina was a bit better than yours overall because she was an athlete, but tonight she wasn’t holding off.

You leaned down to rest your head in the nape of Paige’s neck, the slightly new angle pushing you both over the edge. You felt intoxicated as you came undone, Paige’s center never giving the throbbing a rest as she came right with you like she’d promised. “Sh-shit.” Paige’s voice had gotten high for the first time that night. “I love you so fuckin’ much, fuck.” Paige admitted, her words rushed out. You only panted, bringing your head up to rest against her forehead as your chests heaved and you both stopped moving. Paige opened her eyes at your touch, only being able to stare into your eyes for so long— caught in a different universe as your lips hovered over hers.

Still breathless, Paige managed to wrap her arms around you and set you down next to her, your wet, sweaty body hitting her sheets. Coming down from the sacred high and finally having room to think, you’d only just then comprehended what Paige had said, knitting your eyebrows slightly from next to her. You turned your head, realizing she had managed to hoist herself up and put her clothes back on, grabbing scattered pieces of clothing in the process. Your scattered pieces of clothing.

You propped yourself up on both elbows, her comforter covering your chest. You realized that if anyone were to walk in right now, there would be no hiding the fact that you’d indeed just fucked— your mascara smudged, your hair an absolute mess. You cleared your throat, indicating you were back in the right state of mind and Paige’s body shook. Her back was turned to you, but she could already feel the tension heavy in the room.

Paige had never, not once said those three words to you. And with the way she was acting, you could tell it wasn’t one of her heat-of-the-moment sayings. She’d meant it. “Paige—“ she cut you off before you could address it.

“You should go. It’s late.” Despite her attempts to shake you off, Paige knew better than anyone that she wouldn’t get the last word with you. She might’ve been too full of herself, but you were one quick-witted individual.

You chuckled from behind her, an attempt to hide the actual hurt in your tone. “You’re serious?” you asked, although you knew she was. Your eyes were widened and you couldn’t believe she’d said such a thing before literally kicking you out.

She turned around and effortlessly tossed your clothes onto the bed, the garments landing right in front of you. She didn’t have to say anything. You could fucking feel it. You didn’t have the energy to put up a fight or an argument because it simply did not seem like she cared enough for it. Her words would only hurt you more. You’d known and learned this girl through and through and you would’ve never thought she’d do such a thing. You normally stayed the night, took a shower together, or even just stayed in each other’s warmth until having to tend to something. But tonight, she’d dropped a bomb and resulted in acting like an asshole.

You had a slight frown on your face as you hastily gathered your things, your clothes sloppily thrown on your body like you were sneaking out from a one-night-stand. You tucked your hair behind your ears as you put your shoes on, ignoring the unreadable expression on Paige’s face as her eyes shot daggers into you. Why weren’t you saying anything back? Why weren’t you shouting the most cruel things in her face? She felt like she’d deserved some backlash for what she just did, yet you seemed more hurt and eager to get out of her room than angry.

Without a second glance at the blonde, you rushed out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind you which elicited a slight jump from Paige. Waltzing across the living room, you almost didn’t catch the widened eyes of Amari and Ice in the kitchen. You didn’t care that their speculations had been confirmed, because it was shut down now. Despite being the only girl Paige had been fucking for months on end, she treated you like just another fling tonight, and you were hurt. You were hurt because you loved her too and she didn’t care enough to say it again.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #wlw #wlw ns/fw #lgbtq #paige bueckers headcannons #uconn women’s basketball #bueckers’ works 🍒

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sanakimohara · 2 days

Note

Ok hear me out…

Jeongin finding out you have a chocking kink and him finding out he has a size kink on accident…. Because look at his hands… need them inside me and around my neck asap!

“A PERFECT FIT” Y. J.

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A/N: I'm backkkkkkkk! To be transparent, I have over 40+ requests in my inbox right now, so I'm starting from the bottom! Please forgive me for not answering your prompts earlier (I intend to make up for it). This was an eye-opening request, so I hope I did it justice!

[ MDNI ] + [ NSFW ] + [ CHOKING ] + [ SLIGHT DEGRADATION ] + [ MENTIONS OF CREAMPIE ] + [ IMPLIED SIZE DIFFERENCE ]

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“Innie…I don't know what to choose..” your brows scrunch together slightly as the array of jewelry being shown to you expands. The subtle sparkle each item radiates almost overwhelms you, but seeing them makes your heart flutter nonetheless. Jeongin laughs softly, amused by how distraught you look though you're only picking out his anniversary gift to you, “Nothing is too much, hun. Pick whatever you want. Take your time, sweetheart.” He reassures with a gentle smile, motioning the clerk to halt their jewel showcasing. They do as he asks without a word, patiently waiting for a sign to step back in, and hopefully successfully secure a sale.

The two of you looked more than qualified to make an obscene purchase. Dressed nicely for a special occassion that was nothing short of wistful dream come true for you.

One year together…with all of its ups and downs, you'd managed to keep Jeongin wrapped around your finger, and he, in turn, guarded your heart like no other person had before.

Your awed expression shifts to subtle excitement while admiring the jewels at your fingertips.

“They’re all so wonderful… this one here is nice. Oh, but look Innie! That one comes in a set- Ah I'm getting ahead of myself aren't I?…” You bite back a giddy smile, gaze raking over every little detail, and Jeongin feels compelled to by the entire store seeing you so happy.

The diamonds glittered like little stars in your eyes, glinting in the high-end stores' ambient lights and pulling your attention in every direction. When Jeongin mentioned going out on a shopping spree, you hadn't expected him to take you here first, but who were you to complain? Not many men you knew would go to such lengths to celebrate a first anniversary, and even fewer would urge you to pick whatever you wanted without a budget.

You supposed Jeongin had far surpassed your expectations of a good partner long ago, but his tendency to spoil you at random wasn't something you'd gotten used to fully.

With a deep breath and a cheerful hum, you suggested a solution to your dilemma of choice. “How about you help me decide on a few choices, and we can go from there.” He holds your gaze for a long moment, smiling wide as your voice hangs in the air, soft and soothing in the quiet atmosphere.

The silent moment lengthens as he stares at you, unmistakably taken with your gentle doe eyes peering up into his piercing ones for an inevitable compromise.

“Seems fair to me,” Jeongin finally obliges your request, stepping so close that you must crane your neck to maintain eye contact with him. You nearly lose your breath after being so close, blushing intensely as he smirks at you. Even after a year, he managed to cluster you with ease, uncannily flirtatious on a whim, and incredibly full of himself -an unfortunately addictive trait of his you found domineering in every sense. You'd never considered letting him know it, though.

The impending tension oozing off Jeongin doesn't relent as you lower your eyes to his chest, smirking at the sight of your lipstick stains peeking through the collar of his shirt.

You intended to add a few more markings on him if he kept towering over you with a shameless glint behind his eyes. Jeongin wouldn't refuse the exchange either.

“What should I try on first, then,” you playfully cooed at him, glancing away from his skin to the sparkling white and gold jewelry on the pristine glass display counter.

One piece could easily be worth a year of your rent and bills combined….

Jeongin couldn't care less about the price of anything when it came to you, unable to put a price on your adoration for him and selfishly delighting in being the only man to put a smile on your face. “Let's see, this one and this piece would be a good start. I saw you eyeing these two as well..” He quickly pointed out his favorite pieces for you to try on, knowingly choosing a few you also favored. Your smile grew as his considerate nature shone through, watching his nimble and long fingers clad in silver rings gesture over various jewelry pieces. Jeongin could feel you eyeing him, merely stealing a sultry glance your way as he motioned the salesperson close again. “We’ll try these on first.” he identifies the items to them, and you watch as velvet-gloved hands remove a diamond tennis necklace, white gold lock bracelets, pure white rose studs with a matching locket, and finally, a three-stack silver and ruby ring with a low hanging charm necklace.

They were all so captivating in your eyes, each gleaming at the tips of Jeongins fingers as he scrutinized them. His touch was featherlight, but his focus was unwavering; specific scrutiny clouded his eyes as if every diamond needed to measure his standards or reflect his appreciation of you.

After a few moments of inspection, they seemed to pass his test, the diamond tennis necklace being the first to rest in his palm as he turned to face you. “Turn around,” he murmurs, a sweet but borderline smothering command. “Hm,” you chirp, afraid to speak in case a tremor of anticipation slipped through it, willing yourself to exhale correctly as you turn on your heel to face the nearest full-length mirror.

God, please don't do this to me…

Your breath catches again as Jeongin stares you down through the reflective surface, not so innocently drinking in your appearance, teeth catching his bottom lip as his eyes finally catch yours. The look was clear, somewhat frightening to you in such a public place, but exciting nonetheless. He wasn't shy about eye fucking you in others' presence since the beginning of your relationship, but this instance felt entirely different from the other times. The usual jolt of pleasure you felt heightened realizing the difference in his desire, those cunning eyes of his shrouding a hidden intent, and one you couldn't quite figure out at the moment.

The weight of his stare keeps your heart racing, numbing your thoughts to dull white noise as he steps close to you, invading your space like always but making it a point not to touch you directly. It's almost sickening how much you want to break for him right then, stilling a soft whimper of his name in a rushed breath as he holds the dainty necklace up in front of you both. He doesn't spare the jewelry a glance as he speaks lowly, pacing his words as he studies your more petite figure shrouded in his larger frame, “I don't think you need another necklace, baby.. You already have one specially made for you anytime you want it..” he leans in closer, breathing fanning the back of your neck and lobe of your ear in gentle waves as his free hand slithers up your chest to grasp your neck gently….

“Mm-” you gulp down a moan as he squeezes your throat, letting the metal of his rings sink into your skin like a branding iron before placing a chaste kiss on the juncture of your jaw and neck. The smile on his face feels evident on your skin, warming it with sudden heat and making you forget where the two of you were. He seems to fail, too, taking the chance to nip at your ear playfully, earning a surprised flinch from you. “J-Jeongin, we are in public-” you protest in a whisper, cheeks a red hue as he relents his hold on you and pretends that nothing vulgar has happened, but the pleased expression on his face says otherwise.

“You say that as if it'll stop me, honey. It won't…” he cockily responds, the bright smile returning in full force as you glare at him in response. “You’re such a shameless pervert,” you mutter back, knowing the insult won't phase him but rather rile him up further.

He doesn't mask his lack of cordialness, always entertained by small thing like you pointing out his schemes with an attitude of a propriety despite enjoying his public admvaces. “Dont be so mean, baby. I'm only having a little fun…” Jeongin lifts the necklace with both hands and you carefully move your hair to let him clasp it around your neck. The glimmer it gives off compliments your skin, drawing your attention like a magnet, but it's quickly refocused as he whispers in your ear again.

“And don't act like you don't get all worked up when I do.”

If your cunt wasn't weeping before, it indeed was now, crying to be touched by him and distracting you for the rest of the time you spent trying on jewelry.

Jeongin took every chance to mess with you, subtly rough with you each time he made you try on a piece, cooing in your ear how pretty you looked in each one, and purposefully giving you no personal space if no one was paying the two of you any particular attention.

He couldn't help himself.

Each time, you shivered closer to him as cold jewels touched your heated skin, making his chest tight with greed for more. The picture-perfect image of you all dolled up, admiring diamonds he'd gladly give you and so willingly allowing his advances to continue. Every necklace around your neck prompted him to replace it with his hand again, a growing addiction he couldn't wait to satiate and savor all at once. The softness of your smaller hands rests on him as you trace over silver and gold. The confidence in your opinions on each piece slowly dwindles with every whispered promise of him fucking you in them later, and your will to be indifferent is completely forgotten as he swipes his card for it all.

It drove Jeongin insane, so much so that the rest of your date went unfinished, put on complete stand-by as he dragged you into his dorm.

You stumbled behind him as the electronic door clicked shut, trying to giggle as he kicked his shoes off, dropped his coat and keys on the couch, and practically did the same steps for you.

There was no use in telling him you could do those tasks yourself; he gave no time even to discuss the mundane steps and swept you into his bedroom seconds later.

“Jeongin… oh fuck!-” You squeal as he kicks the door shut, tugging his shirt off as you trip back into his bed from the force of his shove. You move to stand up and help him undress, but he's much faster than you. His body slides between your legs, the coarse black fabric of his jeans an excellent contrast to the overly warm skin of your thighs, and you groan quietly from the contact. “Wait…” you mumble helplessly, eyes sliding shut as he leans forward, a hand finding your neck while the other reaches for his belt. You stare in awe, watching his fingers work the silver button out, the zipper pulled down next, but the band of his boxers is left untouched as he holds your jaw upwards. “Wait? For what, hun? Haven't we done enough of that today?..” he croons at you, inching closer until you have no choice but to lay flat underneath him with your gaze fixed on his.

Dryness invades your mouth seeing his eyes darken, cunt starting to pulse his name the longer he stares, and the apparent bulge of cock pressing on you not helping at all. Jeongin reads the depravity taking over your expression, growing hot when you squirm underpin helplessly, chasing his lips for a heated kiss that initiated messier ones after. You gripped at his forearms, nails digging into his skin as his muscles flexed under your touch, intending you trailed them into his amber hair.

His tongue dived for yours, toying with it until you were out of breath, drool slipping down both your chins as he pulled back a bit. You tried to speak but gasped instead as he choked you a little more complicated, smiling as your eyes rolled back, and a soft whimper flew past your lips on instinct. Jeongin should've felt ashamed of how his heart soared seeing you so distraught because of him, how tiny you looked, struggling to breathe under his hold, but all he could think about was doing it again with his covk buried in you.

It was all you could fathom, smiling like a fool as he loosened his grip seconds later to kiss you softly as an unspoken apology. “Too much?..” he inquired quietly, ready to stop himself from doing it again if you were uncontrollable. Still, the delighted hum you responded with said otherwise. “Do it again…as much as you want,” you breathed into his ear as his lips found other skin to attack, baring down on your jeweled neck before trailing to the collar of your top.

Jeongin lifted his eyes to yours, one look you understood well enough not to ask what it meant, and nodding complicity to. He kissed the valley of your breasts as a wordless thank you, sitting you both up to strip your top half naked. You shivered as cool air hit your skin, the chill soon dulled away as he laid ontop of you again.

His hands wandered your body, playing with the flesh of your breasts and rolling your nipples to stiff peaks between his fingers. Your curves got plenty of his attention, groped at every opportunity when you arched up against him, arms around his neck to keep him close for one tongue kiss after the next. “So cute..” Jeongin mumbled as you moaned against his lips, fingers wrapping around your throat like a missing puzzle piece, and you tugged his hair in response as the added pressure made your new diamond choker dig into your skin.

He smirks at the slight pain in your eyes, “Hurts?”

You nod as best you can, hips unconsciously raising to meet his as fear-induced heat floods your core. Jeongin smiles wide, “Awe, you poor, sweet, little thing… it's supposed to.” his voice turns ice cold, matching the force he uses to pin you down underneath him as he hikes your skirt to rest above your hips and tugs at your panties so hard threads audibly rip.

You want to panic as the need to breathe hits, but you can't bring yourself to as his free hand slips past your underwear to cup the soaked mound hidden there. Stars pickle your vision as he prods his middle finger on the first, carefully timed strokes of your inner walls, causing them to clench down on it, and he adds another to challenge the reaction. Jeongin groans, seeing your thighs quiver violently, slowly getting slick with cum the longer he pumps his fingers into you, “You're tight as ever, baby. Haven't been filled in a while since I've been gone…almost makes me feel bad.”

His taunting sounds distant, only becoming apparent when his grip on your neck loosens, “J-Jeong- god!” you hiss as he adds a third finger, twisting and stretching them with lethal intent. Your legs open wider on his bed, hands fisting the covers and his wrist, but your eyes staring far off into space as he coaxed your climax out. “Don’t wanna come yet…” you protest quietly as he leans down to spit on your cunt, pushing it further in you with a satisfied hum, and you shudder as the new substance taints your insides. “Oh, but I want you to, little one. I gave you such a pretty gift today, and it'd be wrong not to get my money's worth..” he feigned concern, curling his fingers to hit your sweet spot on, knowing he hit it when you yelped and nodded your head vigorously in agreement.

“Yes! Yes!… Yes, Innie, please!” you tried to stay still but felt a particular rush hit that had you crying out and trying to run from him instead. Jeongin halted your attempts with a squeeze on your neck and deliberately slowly circled his thumb on your clit. The contrast of no air and sudden stimulation made you come undone in seconds, come gushed onto his hand like a small river. You groaned as he worked you through the high, not caring at all that you squirted all over his hand and sheets.

He only wanted more after the fact, commenting on how wonderous your release was like he'd won a prize, “All that from a small thing like you. How lucky am I, hm?” Jeongin slipped his hand from between your shaking thighs, passing his come-coated fingers up your body until they reached your lips. His cock twitched as you mindlessly kitten licked them, tears treating to run from your eyes as you sucked on them gently. Even your mouth felt confining, struggling to take his fingers but still willing to, and the apparent tight fit left him reeling.

Too tired to think straight, you lapped at his fingers like candy, occasionally gagging as drool dribbled down your chin, and the unexpected air loss beginning to make you dizzy but not delirious enough to pass out.

The feeling of his bare cock finally resting on your slit brought you back to your senses in a matter of minutes. His fingers left your mouth empty, the spit on them used to lubricate his length from tip to base. You watched in a daze as he pumped his fist twice, his low moans clouding your thoughts and the sight of his skin collecting a thin sheen of sweat along with the love-drunk expression on his face, burning memory in them.

“Jeongin..” you call out to him sweetly, meeting his gaze as he pushes into slowly, groaning your name like a practiced melody as your cunt throbs against every inch of length. “Relax..” he warns you, breathless as you stare at him wistfully, willing your body to do as he asks. The stretch of his cock is familiar, welcoming even, but it still has a burning edge to it. He's a lot to take on a good day, taking your breath away with one stroke and tearing you apart with the next. “Trying..” you whisper against his lips as he lowers his head to rest on yours, not breaking eye contact as he buries himself to the hilt in your warm walls.

“Mmm, and you doing so well, too,” he praises you quietly, losing his breath as he drags his hips back to slam back in a bit harder than the first time. You jolt under him, moaning loudly while locking your legs around his hips to keep him deep. “Selfish, aren't we?” Jeongin chuckles at your attempt to keep him still, admiring the lazy smile on your lips as you nod yes, not caring if he could break away with no effort.

Only an hour ago, you asked him for a piggyback ride to his car, tired from walking around the shopping center, taking advantage of his taller stature for your gain. Now, here you were begging him to invade your smaller one and stay inside it, and the stark difference had his blood running hot.

Jeongin could overpower you, and in turn, you begged him to.

The hold you had on him didn't last long as the realization crossed his mind, sabotaged by his decision to unlock your legs from his waist before pressing your thighs up and open for unrestricted control. “Oh god damn it!..” you drawled helplessly as he grinned down at you, clearly proud of himself as he began to pound into you at his own pace. Fast and direct thrusts that had your toes curling, chest heaving, and insides twisting with pleasure. Your head lulled back, eyes fluttering shut as Jeongins definitive hits abused your sweet spot and forced your body to comply with his size.

Jeongin hissed as your neck came into his blurred view, red lines from his rings and your new necklace evident, but the actual detail captivating him was the light bruises his fingertips left. He'd have to make up for the blemishes later, but for now, he wanted to add more, taken by how fragile you looked underneath him and quite proud of his handwork.

You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, cum leaking from where you two connected, and your head emptying of any thoughts the closer he brought you to coming again. He studied every movement you made, how your body tensed when his cock entirely nestled into you, the immediate rise of your lower stomach when he went further, and the tremor in your moans strengthening as he fucked you into a complete stupor.

She's so tiny…so soft… so fucking warm.

He reveled in the observations, bringing himself to his end and driving him to hit you harder. The firm grip of both his hands around your throat left you disoriented, on the verge of snapping as he restricted your breaths while simultaneously giving your cunt deliberate strokes. You claw at his wrists just as it became too much, a relieved scream erupting from you as your high crashed down.

Jeongin smiles at you incredulously, taken aback but nowhere near displeased.

“That's what gets you off, little one? Being fucked like a slut. Come on, tell me the truth,” he teases you lowly. His gaze shifted from your face contorted in pleasure to the cream cum ring connecting you both. He watches your mouth fall open as he fucks you through a second high. “Hmm, n-no!” you try to answer but give up as words allude to you, replaced by cries of his name. His hips are faster for a second, cock twitching inside you as your nails prick his wrists.

He's close, and you take advantage of that, putting pressure on his hand to choke you harder, and he takes the hint in a split second.

“Tell me if it's too much…” Jeongin grunts loudly, hips snapping faster and breaths coming short as your cubt involuntarily closes in on his cock. The pleasurable aftershock of his thrusts adds to the tingling buzz engulfing your body as oxygen leaves your lungs. You want to answer him, want to breathe even, but can't while gasping for air while the coil in your tummy snaps to pieces.

“Shit! Fuck!” his voice vibrates the room, guttural whines tumbling from his mouth as your arousal spills on him for the second time, but the distracting feelings, unless his form and the pressure on your throat vanishes. “Jeongin!…” you gasp for air, shaking uncontrollably as the world returns to focus for you.

He laughs dryly, hearing you shout his name first despite being on the brink of passing out seconds ago, a proud grin plastered on his face when your gaze fogs over, and the last of his patience leaving at the sight.

“Dont move..” he buffs, and you nod obediently, mewling quietly as a familiar warmth envelops your cunt, his release streaming down your slit as he slowly pulls out. Jeongin appears mildly entranced at the mixture, tapping your thigh appreciatively, and you whine at the gentle contact. “Easy, hun.” he saunters closer, clearly just as exhausted as you are, slumping beside you to catch his breath. You blink the haze from your eyes, able to land back on earth with little effort, but your body still feels unsteady as you could up close to him.

“Never knew you were into that Innie,” you whisper hoarsely, lips grazing the skin of his shoulder blade. He shudders violently, sensitive to your broken voice and mentally fixed on the high you shared. His brows turn downward, jovial confusion in his expression as he lifts his head, “Into what, babe?” You giggle at the question, assuming he'd been fully aware of his new kink, but obviously, he wasn't, which amused you.

“Choking, silly. You almost made me pass out…not that I would mind.” you fall flat onto your back as he laughs tiredly, “I'm not, but you are.” his retort is definite, an observation, and one you don't negate.

“True, but that's not the only thing new for you, Innie…”

He shifts, standing to begin cleaning you both up, and you sit up to follow but halt as he kneels to take off your skirt and ripped panties. “And what do you mean by that?” Jeongin peers at you curiously, taking his time to undress you. “Hm, I don't know… I just got the feeling you like that I'm smaller than you. You've never been so rough before, and it was nice to be treated so….easily.”

A smile crosses your face as he freezes, eyes narrowing up at you, “Now, look who's the pervert..” His teasing makes you scowl at him briefly; a solid thump on his head follows, “M’ not a percert!..”

“Says the girl, pointing out my kinks-”

He flinches and laughs as you lunge at him, catching you the moment your weight pins him to the ground, “You talk a lot of shit Yang Jeongin…” you hiss playfully.

Your hands raise to pinch his cheeks but Jeongin is quicker, gripping your wrists with one hand, and the other grasping your hip. “Ah!” you squeal in surprise as he flips over, holding you down while you wriggle under his weight.

The struggle is electrifying and playful but tense. The exact excitement he felt earlier bloomed again, seeing you put up a fight to lose when his lips met your parted ones.

You were right.

He'd never admit it.

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This was my first request since being gone so long. I feel like I did okay, but please give me feedback cause I don't know if my style has changed since then. Anyway, I love you, babies, and thank you for all the love and support!

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

You know, if I had a dollar for every time I imagined how good Jeongin might look fucked out, I'd be a millionaire already. (I'm back on my unhinged shit, as you can see) credit to the creator. 🖤

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gloomwitchwrites · 2 days

Note

Congrats on 1k! Could you please do Simon Riley with SFW Alphabet. I need all the *feels* please! :)

Thank you! And I can certainly bring the feels.

Simon is such a complex and interesting character. I love reading and analyzing other peoples' headcanons about him. Everyone has a different take on the character, and this bit is just me rambling. Thanks for sending the request in!

Word Count: 1.3k

1k Follower Event Rules

SFW Alphabet Template

ao3 // taglist // 1k follower event masterlist // main masterlist

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

For Simon to show affection, there must be trust. Whether a friend or lover, Simon needs time to build a solid relationship with someone before he drops some of those walls. If he’s cracking jokes with you, you have Simon’s respect and trust. Simon isn’t a gift giver, but he does listen, which is his greatest strength. His form of affection is listening to you mention something off-handedly, and then doing the thing that you need without asking.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Simon would be an awesome best friend, but getting there would take time. Those barriers need to come down first. How would a friendship start? By you adopting him as your new best friend without him having a say. Just look at how his relationship starts with Soap. I don’t think I need to say more.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Simon enjoys cuddles with a romantic partner. Does he enjoy it all the time? No. Not really. He’s more of a “use me as a pillow and I won’t move” sort of person, but after falling asleep? He’ll curl up next to you immediately.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Simon absolutely wants to settle down but isn’t particularly worried about when. Just because he wears a mask, is lethal in the field, and has trauma doesn’t mean he doesn’t want the things that come with settling down. He knows he can be a better partner and a better father than what he grew up with. Simon is immaculate in the field, and I can’t see him not bringing that into his everyday life. Cleaning is a chore to him but he’s efficient. Cooking is hit or miss. Terrible or just okay at most things, but he’s particularly good at a few things.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Quick and blunt. Simon doesn’t mince words. He’s to the point, even if it hurts him (or you).

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Simon longs for commitment. He needs trust to build friendship and then a relationship beyond that. How quick? That depends. Simon will either know right away or it might dawn on him suddenly.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Simon knows when and how to be gentle. Sure, he’s a beast of a man, but there is a reason he often stands back and listens before speaking. This man processes information quickly and knows what needs to happen depending on the situation. That doesn’t mean he always gets it right. Physically, not a problem. Emotionally, Simon struggles sometimes with making the correct call.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Not a hugger. Hates hugs. If Simon is hugging you, you’ve won.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Quickly, if Simon knows what he wants. Simon will say it deliberately, but it might slip during a moment of passion.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Simon can get jealous but only when he thinks someone is moving in on what he believes is his. If this is a romantic partner, that jealousy isn’t directed at them but at the person trying to weasel their way in.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Passionate. Rough. All-consuming. Simon likes kissing the palm of your hand or the inside of your wrist. He loves it when you trail kisses down his neck.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s good with kids. Simon is the guy at the function that all the kids climb and jump on because he doesn’t put up a fuss. He’s a big tree for them to hang on. Outwardly, he might seem annoyed, but Simon enjoys it.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Depends. If there are things to do Simon will easily fall into routine. If there is nothing planned for the day, Simon loves a lazy, cozy morning.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

When he’s not working, Simon enjoys his sleep. He’d be the one trying to drag you to bed. If you’re with him, he doesn’t want to sleep alone.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Simon is slow to reveal things. Trust takes time with him, and even those he deeply trusts don’t know everything about him. For Simon, it depends on the person. He trusts Soap and Gaz, but he’d not going to dump his entire history on them. Price, for example, likely knows a lot more. If Simon is dating someone or married, that too will likely be different.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Simon is not quick to anger. Even in the field he’s mostly a calm cucumber with a bit of spicy pickling when he wants to appear intimidating. For Simon to get angry—like actually angry—there has to be a betrayal of some kind.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Simon doesn’t forget anything. He listens, he hears, he processes, and makes decisions. He considers everything important and if he cares about you, what you say matters. He’d remember your coffee order, the birthdays of your immediate family members, and even the things you say in passing.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Simon’s favorite moment in your relationship is when you said “I love you” back to him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Extremely protective. Because of his military career, Simon views threats differently from the average person. Old enemies might come circling back, but he’s more worried about your personal safety. He’s likely to make sure you’re hammering something in the wall correctly than watching your every step.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Tons of effort to the point it almost appears seamless to you. I keep stating this over and over again, but Simon is a listener. He keeps tracks of everything in his head, especially dates and any anniversaries, and knows what to gift you because he’ll hear something you mention off-handedly and then just present it like it’s not a big deal. Every day tasks are not an issue for him. If something needs done, Simon does it and you don’t need to make him a “list.” Nah. Simon sees a task and completes it.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Might shut down if he feels cornered or attacked. Will not listen if you try to give him directions and he’s the one driving. Smoking just to keep his hands occupied.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Simon is not vain. He is cocky, and he knows he’s attractive, but he doesn’t obsess over it. Skincare routine? Yes, but it’s simple.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Partially. Simon is used to being alone and working alone. That isn’t new for him.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Major sweet tooth. Loves chocolate cake.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Dishonesty. Lack of accountability.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Simon is a dead body in bed. When he’s asleep, you cannot move him, and he tends to spread out.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving

@childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98

@kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000

@cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @cinnabeanz @berarenado

@rogerrhqpsody @josephquinnschesthair @saoirse06 @therealbloom @ninman82

@no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @lxblm @ferns-fics

@ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow

@kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi

@lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez

@gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

179 notes · View notes

dazzlingjaeyun · 3 days

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

best friend!jay x fem!reader

genre: best friends to lovers, some angst / some fluff

warnings: cussing, slightly jealous!jay

word count: ~3,5k

a/n: ahh i really enjoyed writing this one!! but the ending feels a bit rushed so i apologize for that

↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

you and jay had practically known each other since diapers, being best friends ever since you could remember. although over the years you had been through different friend groups, the two of you always stayed inseparable. in the end, it was always you. you and jay.

since you spent almost every day together, also now you were sitting on his bed across from him, your legs casually resting on top of his thighs while you had your laptop on your lap, typing away a report you had to finish. jay, on the other hand, was silently scrolling through every possible social media site to fight his boredom while waiting for you to be done. his other hand rested on your knee, softly tapping his index and middle fingers on your joggers alternately, as if tapping them along to a beat. being so used to his skinship, his soft touch didn't bother you.

after some more moments in silence with only the sounds of you tapping on your keyboard, you could hear jay sigh and saw him put down his phone from the corner of your eye. "how long are you going to work on this, it's been two hours", he whined.

you looked up from your laptop only to see your best friend pout at you, which made your lips curl up into a smile. "okay, big baby, i'm almost done and we'll watch your annoying movie after", you replied in a teasing tone. jay squinted his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, to which you chuckled before focusing back on your laptop screen.

"i think i should show her the movie too", jay interrupted again. "hm, who her?", you asked, rather inattentively.

jay clicked his tongue. "the girl i like, dumbass"

rolling your eyes, you finally looked up from your laptop again. the past weeks, he had not gone a day without mentioning 'the girl he likes' at least once. although you knew practically everything about him - and his plans with his crush - you still had no idea who she was nor what she looked like and whenever you asked, your friend would turn down your question, claiming you'd find out soon enough.

"yeah, you should watch this movie with her. i don't want to watch it for the 10th time", you replied sarcastically , earning another playfully annoyed look from jay.

"i'm serious, jay. stop saying what you want to do and then never make a move. she might not wait forever", you added, your voice more genuine than before. jay just bit down on his lower lip and nodded, looking to the side to avoid your eyes.

suddenly, you felt bad for what you had said. you didn't want to discourage him. it was quite the opposite; you wanted him to finally take his chance with whoever he had liked for a while now. you closed your laptop, not caring about the unfinished report at that very moment, grabbed a pillow from behind your back and threw it in jay's direction, careful to hit but not hurt him.

"you should really ask her to watch it with you, instead of me. she's not going to believe you're into her if you're stuck on my ass the entire time anyways", you said jokingly, trying to lighten up his mood again and in fact earning a soft giggle from him. he grabbed your laptop off your legs and instead pulled you towards him, your head hitting his chest softly.

"whatever you say", he said, grabbing the remote and turning on the tv while you got comfortable, resting your head on his chest and putting one arm around his torso. "now, it's movie time", he said, indicating you should stop speaking now, before starting the movie he had waited to watch with you and pulling your body just a tiny little bit closer to his. and words could not describe how comfortable you felt in that very moment. how completely comfortable and safe.

you didn't even notice that you had fallen asleep on jay's chest. it was not until he moved very slowly and carefully, trying the best he could to not wake you up. you slowly opened your sleepy eyes and lifted your head a little.

jay sighed at the realization. "i'm sorry... i was really trying to not wake you", he almost whispered, his voice soft and quiet. his words so carefully spoken, as if he could break you in half if he said them any louder.

only then you realized his fingers tangled in your hair - clearly the aftermath of having played with them while watching the movie.

"it's your fault i fell asleep in the first place. i always do when you play with my stupid hair", you managed to crack a joke, despite your tiredness.

jay scoffed jokingly. "stupid hair?", he asked as if you had insulted him. "you know they're soft and it's...", he stopped as if searching for the right word "...it's healing to play with them."

healing? the fact that he spoke of something as simple as playing with your hair as healing set something off. a weird, unfamiliar feeling in your stomach - one that you couldn't really classify.

"mh..." that was all you could reply, feeling overwhelmed and confused at the sudden change of feelings you experienced.

"you know... you'd make a good boyfriend. i'm sure the girl you like would enjoy having you caress her hair until she falls asleep", you just blurted out, mind still foggy by the state you were in.

you could feel jay's chest stop moving for a split second, indicating that he was holding his breath, before you heard him gulp.

"hm, probably"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

"i'm so going to win this time", you said, self-confident, as you started the last and final round of the race, eyes fixated on the screen and hands wrapped tightly around the controller.

you were so caught up in the game that you got startled by the loud ringtone covering the sounds of the game. you tried to catch a glimpse of your phone to see who was calling, going back and forth from your phone to the tv screen - the inattentiveness causing your game character to hit an obstacle, much to the joy of your competitor. as you lost the game, you just dropped the controller in your lap and instead grabbed your phone to finally answer the video call.

"you better have a good reason to call me now, jay! i lost mario kart because of you!", you snapped, before your best friend could even greet you.

mario kart? he thought. that was your tradition. yours and jay's. playing mario kart on a friday evening. but he was clearly not with you right now. and for some reason, it bugged him. a lot. why would you carry on your tradition with someone else? but did he even have the right to claim a shared activity as solely yours and his? did he have the right to get hurt or even angry? he wasn't sure, so he tried to shrug it off.

he forced himself to let out a faked laugh. "who did you lose to?", he asked, trying to make it seem as if it wasn't a big deal for him. trying to not seem too curious about who you had replaced him with.

you moved your phone to the side, revealing your competitor, before moving it back for the camera to capture you only.

"huh? jake?", jay asked, visibly confused.

"i'll get some water and let the two of you talk", the boy in question chimed in as he stood up from the bed, giving you a short smile.

you looked up at him a little too long for jay's liking, before moving your eyes back to the phone screen. "so, why were you calling anyways?", you asked as jake walked out of your room.

"him, seriously? are you stupid or do you simply not care that he only wants to-"

"jay. i asked a question", you cut him off rather sternly.

he let out a long sigh at the tone of your voice, at the way your words left no room for further discussion. and if he thought about it, he also didn't have the right to tell you who to hang out with, after all.

"did you hear about this new café opening next week?", he finally carried on with the original reason why he called you. you nodded in response, so jay continued "they'll have like a small opening event, i wanted to ask you if you want to go with me?"

"um... well, jake asked me already", you replied, your voice now calmer and quieter, feeling almost guilty for turning jay down.

"what did you say?", he asked hurriedly, as if in a rush to find out about your answer. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "i said yes. i thought-... you can ask the girl you like?"

"oh... um...", he started stuttering, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his head awkwardly, "i did but she already had plans that day"

you just nodded. another unfamiliar feeling bubbling up in your stomach. the fact that he had already asked her before even considering you was somehow... irritating? he had asked her. not you. you were the second choice, after the first was not available. and suddenly, it crashed down on you. worries, fear. suddenly, you felt this irrational, immense fear of losing your best friend. of watching him just slip through your fingers, taking your years of friendship along with him.

"you okay? you're zoning out again", jay pulled you out of the spiral of thoughts. when your eyes focused back on him, you could make out the worried expression on his face.

without thinking about it, you just started babbling out your thoughts. "i'm scared that this will ruin our friendship, jay". his eyes widened and he opened his mouth to object, but again was interrupted by you. "sorry, i-"

you didn't get to finish as this time you were interrupted by the door opening again and jake stepping back into your room, a glass of water in each hand.

"you know what, jay... we'll talk about that another time, yeah? i'll see you, good night", you hurriedly hung up before he could even reply, leaving him on the other end of the line staring at his phone in surprise for a few seconds.

i'm scared that this will ruin our friendship, your words echoed in his head. oh, me too, he thought.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the day of the event came by and you were just finishing to touch up your make up when you heard your door bell ring; the signal that jake was there and ready to pick you up.

the two of you drove to the café in his car in a comfortable silence, jake's voice softly humming along to the songs on the radio barely audible to you.

even after you had spent an hour or two at the café, trying not only the beverages but also some treats, the two of you still hadn't run out of topics to talk and laugh about.

you were so caught up in the conversation with jake that it took you some minutes to make out the tall figure standing in front of the table you two shared. only when you looked up finally, you saw your best friend standing there, practically piercing holes through your body with his eyes.

thanks to the video call a couple of days before, jay knew exactly where you'd be on that day. and with who. and for some reason, he felt the strong urge to check on you. an urge he couldn't fight, so he gave in and made his way to the same place. he just had to make sure you were okay after all, right? that's what a best friend would do if their best friend went out with a guy that seemed fishy. right?

but seeing the two of you just chatting with each other, laughing with each other, sitting a little too close to each other... he didn't know if he should feel relieved that your suspicious date was much less of a threat he had thought. or if he in fact should feel even more threatened. because what if you'd end up liking the guy with the golden retriever-like eyes more than your best friend?

it was your scent tickling his nose that brought him back to reality. only then he realized the hug you had pulled him in, immediately reciprocating the gesture and wrapping his arms around your waist. just a little tighter than he would usually do.

jake, still sitting on the sofa, watched the scene in front of him, biting the inside of his cheek while jay's head was almost buried in the crook of your neck, taking in as much of your scent as possible.

finally, you let go of the way longer than normal hug, a slight shade of pink covering your cheeks. you quickly sat back down again, taking your iced coffee and gulping it down as if it could cool your face and stop the heat from rushing to your cheeks. why were you blushing anyway?

"hi jake", jay finally spoke up, looking down to said boy, who just nodded his head in return. "mind if i join you guys?"

"actually, yeah. i mind.", jake opposed.

jay was quick to reply, before you could even open your mouth "well good thing i only care about my best friend's opinion", emphasizing the possesive pronoun as if you were solely his property, not dared to even be looked at by anyone else.

"geez, fine. i was gonna head home anyways", jake said while standing up, "have a good time together then". and before you could hold him back, hell, before you could even say something, jake was already out the door.

your eyes followed him until he was out of sight and then went back to look at jay. although he hadn't intended for this to happen, he couldn't say he wasn't satisfied with the outcome nonetheless. until...

"what the fuck, jay?!"

if you weren't in public, you would have probably screamed at him. jay's eyes widened at your reaction. in all the years you had known each other, you had barely ever raised your voice at him in a serious manner. but he could tell that you were very serious right now.

"i'm... i'm sorry, i didn't mean to- he's just not good for you and-", he started stuttering out, before you cut him off.

"did you see him acting anyhow weird towards me? no. cause the only one who's acting weird is you, jay!"

he gulped. "but i'm your-"

"my what?", you interrupted again. "my best friend? right. not my parents, not my boyfriend. you're no one to tell me who to go out with!", you snapped.

"just because you don't have the balls to ask the stupid 'girl you like' out, you have to ruin my day as well?" you finally stood up and grabbed your bag. "for fucks sake, jay, get yourself together." you gave him one last glare, before storming off the café as well, making sure to hit his upper arm with your shoulder as you passed him. leaving him with a shocked face and a mind filled with so many thoughts, yet so empty, not able to say a word.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

days passed and you did not speak to neither jake nor jay. whereas the latter had tried to contact you several times, jake had not reached out to you as much. you weren't happy about that but you weren't exactly hurt or upset either.

when it came to jay, a part of you was still mad at him, while another part of you wasn't. one minute you'd want to talk to him, and the next you'd damn yourself for that thought. safe to say your feelings and thoughts were just a rollercoaster at this point, and you were nowhere near sorting them out. the only constant: confusion.

the sudden ring of your door bell pulled you out of another never ending thought process. you stood up from your bed and made your way to the door, opening it without peeking through the small hole before. instant regret hit you as you saw who was standing right in front of you.

"jay?"

"hey... can i come in?"

hesitantly, you stepped aside, not able to reject your best friend, no matter how much you wanted to tell him to go home. after all, you had your reasons for not picking up the phone, not answering the texts. you didn't want to talk to him. not as long as you had no idea about what to think - what to feel.

jay entered, a big bag on his back and just naturally walked past you and to the living room as if you had invited him to do so. you followed him with quick steps.

"i never said to go-"

you gave up as you saw him getting comfortable on the sofa already. he opened his bag, pulled out his guitar and finally looked at you. then he patted on the sofa, signaling you to sit down next to him.

"i want to show you something"

you were, yet again, confused, but curiosity got the best of you and you decided to take a seat next to him.

"i wrote this myself", he explained further and although you were expecting exactly what he'd say next, it still felt like a punch in the gut. "um... for the girl i like"

without thinking about it, you stood up again, ready to tell him to just leave, when he grabbed your hand and pulled you down again.

"i just want to hear your opinion on it", jay said in a soft voice.

"fine."

and so he began letting his fingers slide over the strings elegantly, playing the chords so perfectly, while making everything look so effortless at the same time. his voice was soft, yet carried so much power. and in an instant, nothing else mattered. not what happened at the café, not his bold act of just walking in now, not your anger.

just jay's voice and the sounds of his guitar. so heavenly. and so not for you.

suddenly, your confusion sweeped away and tears started filling your eyes when the realization hit you. and it hit hard.

the realization of why everything about his not so little crush on this girl had bothered you so much. the realization of what you had actually felt when you had woken up on his chest with his hand in your hair a couple of weeks ago. and that you were not only scared of the friendship changing when he asked her out first. even the realization of why you were blushing after he had hugged you tightly in the café.

but mostly, the realization that you wanted nothing more than to be her.

jay's voice fell silent abruptly. he almost tossed away the guitar and instead brought both of his hands to your cheeks, cupping your face. his thumbs gently stroked your cheeks, sending goosebumps down your spine and although your vision was blurry, you could see his worried eyes fixated on yours.

"why are you crying?" jay asked carefully, as if he barely dared to break the silence.

you tried shaking your head but jay's hands on both sides of your face held you more tightly, almost like he was scared of losing you forever if he let go now.

"i'm sure she'll like it", you whispered, worried that if you spoke up, your voice would break.

jay inhaled deeply, his breath audibly shaking. "does she?"

you furrowed your eyebrows. "how would i-"

"do you?"

pang. your heart dropped to your knees. your stomach sank. your mind started racing and your heartbeat doubled its speed likewise.

pang. the next realization.

he had shown you the movie he wanted to show her.

he had asked you to join him to the event, but you had plans already.

he had shown you the song he wrote for the girl he likes.

for you.

all of those moments were about you, all along.

suddenly, the reason why he had never shown you a picture of her seemed so obvious.

the facts that he had never made a move and that he had reacted this way towards jake suddenly had reasons; fear of ruining the friendship and straight up jealousy.

as if to confirm your mind that was running laps around everything that had happened between you and your best friend the past weeks, you heard jay's soft words "it's you. it's always been you."

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

thank you so much for reading up until here. it means the entire world to me and i hope you guys enjoyed it. please do not copy. ❤︎︎

feel free to leave any feedback & interact!

- dazzlingjaeyun

#enhypen #enhypen au #park jongseong #enhypen jay #jay au #jay x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader

154 notes · View notes

depravitycentral · 2 days

Text

General Yandere! Kotarou Bokuto Profile

Yandere! Kotarou Bokuto x reader

TW: kidnapping, possessiveness, mentions of stalking, mentions of masturbation, allusions to somnophilia, Stockholm Syndrome, emotional manipulation, Ko uses you as his emotional support system, delusional behavior, nonconsensual physical affection/touch, vague allusions to non-con, mentions of physical abuse, Kotarou is extremely emotionally needy and physically touchy and just generally quite a handful, mentions of insecurity, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Introverted

Koutarou is a lot. He knows it, his team knows it, hell, the entire league knows it.

His energy is difficult to match; he’s a ray of sunshine, blinding yet impossible to look away from, someone with boundless amounts of energy, someone friendly and extraverted to an almost extreme.

Because he is so rambunctious and loud, he would actually really enjoy a partner who mellows him out a bit more, someone who isn’t constantly hyper and talkative and wanting to spend hours on end with other people.

He works well with Akaashi; who is quiet, calm and not as talkative, and his darling would likely reflect that in many ways – the serenity, the sense of peace and calmness, the idea that they aren’t constantly jumping with energy, constantly bursting at the seams to go do something.

Ideally though, he’d enjoy a partner who is still willing to talk, who’s willing to indulge him in conversation and compliment him and give him that adorable smile, just not a social butterfly like himself. It makes him feel privileged, special because his darling wants to speak to him, that they’re using their precious social battery on him him him.

He’s in awe that they start conversations with him; his darling, who so often doesn’t utter a word around crazy people such as himself, who sees someone as hyper as him and immediately run for the hills.

It makes his ego flare, and he can’t deny how adorable they are when they get embarrassed at his attention, when they roll their eyes and shove his shoulder lightly, when they freeze and cower as he loudly proclaims his love for them in the middle of the movie theater and everyone looks over.

He loves it, and it’s a nice bonus that it cuts down his competition - less dirty work for him, something Koutarou is very thankful for.

Creative

Volleyball is Kotarou’s life, and as a result he hasn’t had much time to explore anything outside of it. He’s never really tried his hand at painting, playing an instrument, baking, or really any other hobby.

And of course he loves the sport dearly, but there’s something alluring to the idea of a darling that’s invested in something so completely different from himself.

It doesn’t matter what the hobby is - cooking, drawing, writing, singing, it could be anything at all.

But once Kotarou finds out his darling enjoys it, suddenly he becomes obsessed with it, wanting to learn as much as he can and hone as many talents within it as possible. In his eyes, everything his darling does is perfect, so the thing that they love most (aside from him, of course) must be amazing, right? It must be worth his time to learn about it and become familiar with it, if only just to impress his darling, if only just to share even a scrap of the love they feel for it.

He’ll beg and pester his darling to teach him, constantly asking questions and carefully watching their answers.

Because rally, while Kotarou develops an interest in the activity because of his darling’s love, he also becomes familiar with the hobby because he lives for the way their eyes light up when they’re concentrating. They look absolutely gorgeous, even more beautiful than normal, something sparkling in their eyes.

His knees grow weak when he sees them biting their lip or sticking out their tongue in concentration, his feelings only growing ten-fold and becoming stronger because it’s just so incredibly endearing that his darling has something they love enough to be this devoted.

They get this ethereal glow about them and Kotarou genuinely can’t take his eyes off of them when they’re in that mode.

And so instead of listening to their instructions, he finds himself drifting into fantasies of them finally getting that glow and radiance when thinking about him. It’s what fuels him, what gives him energy.

He just wants his darling to adore him in the way that he adores them.

Nurturing

If his darling is anything, they have to be supportive.

Poor Kotarou is in constant need of reassurance, and his darling has to be willing to put up with that. They have to be willing to deal with the emotional labor of constantly praising him, of telling him wonderfully talented he is, how funny, how charming, how handsome, any and all compliments they can think of.

Their kind words go straight to his heart, making his body feel fuzzy and warm, an unstoppable grin stretches across his face and his words excited as he asks them really? Are you sure?

He’s overwhelmed by the idea of his darling thinking such thoughts about him - they think he’s strong? They think he’s talented? They think he’s amazing?

Needless to say, a few simple words of praise from his darling are enough to get Kotarou’s entire mood shifting, his metaphoric feathers ruffling and a pleasant, gooey feeling in his heart making him feel lighter than air because oh, they think he’s attractive and fun to be around?

He loves how easily they’re able to make him feel good about himself, and he can only hope to return the favor.

As a result, he’ll compliment his darling often, completely out of the blue and about odd, but strangely endearing things. He just wants them to feel how good they make him feel, and he’ll do anything to get them there.

Competitive

While his darling needs to be someone capable of spilling praise at a moment’s notice, Kotarou also finds himself attracted to those who has a healthy sense of competition in life.

As a professional athlete, he takes competition very seriously, and is also the type to find that a bit of competition is the perfect thing to spice up a relationship. He loves the idea of having a friendly rivalry with his darling – perhaps at something entirely stupid, like mini-golf or slugbugging or something equally childish.

Regardless, he likes the idea of his darling and him being playful together, of having someone he can establish that teasing rapport with. Besides, while he can sometimes be a bit of an emotional wreck, Kotarou finds emotional intelligence extremely attractive.

Thus, having a partner that’s capable of gracefully winning and losing is wildly attractive to him – they’re able to regulate themselves and put others’ thoughts and feelings into perspective.

He cares too much about other people to have a darling with little to no awareness of others’ feelings, and to have a darling that manages to merge in this awareness alongside a healthy appetite for competition and teasing?

Well, Kotarou finds himself falling hard and fast, loving the idea of a darling who’s so mature yet so wonderfully immature – perfect for someone like him.

(And, though he isn’t consciously thinking about it, perfect for a mother – he won’t explicitly bring up the topic of marriage and children, but he enters every relationship with the thought in mind, always hopeful that perhaps he’s finally found the right woman. And lucky him, he has – his wonderful, wonderful darling.)

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Clingy

He’s naturally quite affectionate with those around him, for better or worse. He’s always looking for someone to talk to, hang out with, goof around with, and once his feelings for you form, so lovely and horrible and overwhelming, this trait is only amplified.

It only increases monumentally with the absolute need to constantly be around you, to have your attention solely on him because god, seeing your pretty eyes focused on him makes his heart race so fast he thinks he’s dying.

He wants you to be looking at him at all times, thinking about him every minute of the day, be craving him as much as he craves you. He wants you to daydream about him smiling at you, making you bite your lip and stare at the ground while you fight back a flustered, school-girl-esque grin because god, isn’t he just so dreamy?

He wants you to be fantasizing about hugging him, feeling his strong, muscular arms wrapped around your body while he nuzzles into your neck, whispering your name in a hoarse voice that gets you shivering and nudging your thighs together because fuck, how can anyone sound that good?

Honestly, the idea of you thinking of him is enough to have him grinning with his eyes squeezed shut, a slight flush on his cheeks as he pumps his fist and lets out a victorious laugh.

(There have been quite a few instances of you patting him on the back, albeit awkwardly, to which he responded with a resounding hey, hey, hey! that sounded much too close to a moan and raised his fist to the sky – you’ve never understood why his voice gets all high and shaky like that, but somehow it seems you’d rather not know the answer.)

He thrives on your physical touch, your sweet words and glossy eyes staying fixed on him, and you’ll quickly notice how Koutarou always seems to just be around, how those golden eyes never really seem to leave, his gray and black hair standing out in your peripheral, followed shortly by a cheerful yell of your name and a bone crushing hug that makes you wheeze and shiver as you realize there’s something pressing into your thigh, oh god why is he hard and nuzzling his face into your neck and is he sighing?

It’s almost flattering at first – not expected, but sweet that he seems to feel so close to you, until it’s happening every day, every time he sees you – he’s always hugging you, holding your hand, ruffling your hair, calling you so cute, isn’t she Akaashi? Makes me wanna eat her right up!

It’s endearing and you’ll be flattered that a famous, attractive professional athlete is so obviously interested in you, but it becomes less and less endearing as time passes. It becomes less cute when he’s making some offhand comment about how you must’ve changed your shampoo – he distinctly remembers your hair smelling like strawberries, and now it has more of a lavender scent; but don’t worry, you smell great either way, cutie!

It becomes less flattering as he tells you while you’re being forced to sit in his lap as the team puts up the volleyball nets that you seemed like you were hesitant to come to practice with me today – is there something I don’t know about? Are you seeing someone else? What aren’t you telling me? It’s not nice to keep secrets from boyfriends, you know.

Quickly you’ll come to realize that Kotarou’s level of dependence on you is completely unwarranted for how close your relationship really is, but there isn’t much you can say to change this fact – he’s clingy, he needs your affection and attention, and when you ask Akaashi or Atsumu about it, about why he seems so needy and so obsessed with you, they’ll both write it off as Bokuto and his fleeting feelings, just his childish nature at work.

And when you try to confront him about it, to tell him that you’re uncomfortable with him suddenly springing up on you from behind, pinning you against a desk with his body looming over you while he inhales deeply and whispers about how pretty you look in your new skirt, he’ll just frown, pouting down at you while he whines about how he isn’t trying to be weird, that he just wants to show you how much he cares, how much he loves you.

He’ll only lean more weight on you, hug you tighter and whisper about how he knows you want this just as bad as he does, that it’s only normal for boyfriends to want to touch their girlfriends, to want to spend time with them and hear their compliments and care for each other.

It’s natural, he explains, to be always by your side, for you to never leave his field of vision – which is why you’ll find yourself coming to most MSBY practices and games decked out in the #12 spare jersey he not so subtly demanded you wear (that still very much has the fresh scent of a recent workout in it – something about pheromones and marking you, Kotarou had explained, with words too quick and slurred for you to really understand).

You’ll find yourself spending most of your meals either by his side or in his lap (trying to ignore the way a certain hardness presses against your ass if you move too much, if you’re squirmin’ so much cutiepie, you okay?).

You’ll be walked home everyday from your job and convinced to spend the evening with him, though he spends more time staring at you than watching the movie you’d thrown on.

And really, you can tell yourself every day that you’ll finally stand up to him, that you’ll finally end this bizarre, possessive behavior coming from a man you aren’t even dating, but each time you bring it up, those soft golden eyes will have you feeling like you’re kicking a puppy, his entire aura being shut down in a heartbeat at your stuttered I-I think we need to take some time apart…

Kotarou isn’t doing it on purpose, but you’ll be extremely hard pressed to ever really change the way he acts around you – it makes you feel too guilty, like you’re spinning the situation into so much more than it really is.

So, when you bite your lip and shake your head, giving him a shaky smile and telling him that you changed your mind, he’s beaming and letting out a cheer and scooping you into his arms to swing you around in circles, despite your demands that you must be too heavy to carry, that he’s making such a scene and the entire restaurant is staring and god, he just loves you so much, he knew you were meant for him and your acceptance only proves this!

It’s not so big a deal, right? Kotarou is mostly harmless, doesn’t mean anything weird by his touchiness, his desperation to be with you, right? It’s just a short term thing, soon his attention will move on, right?

Possessive

Kotarou, while incredibly empathetic and intuitive to other peoples’ emotions, does not handle his own especially well.

He’s terrible at stopping himself from having extreme highs and lows over the pettiest things, and this doesn’t stop at just volleyball, at just his normal life – no, his love for you is most definitely affected by this as well. Namely, in the form of jealousy; he’s a firm believer in faithfulness and loyalty, in the idea that you have one and only one partner, that they should be enough for you and that other men and women are essentially just background noise for the real one, the one that makes your heart race, your palms sweat and a lovely sort of nervousness to grow in the pit of your stomach.

He’s always believed in this, and once his infatuation with you forms, this philosophy most certainly doesn’t change; if anything, he clings onto the idea with frantic fingers, clutching at the concept of you looking at no one else for any reason whatsoever.

He’s plagued with the fear that someone will try and interfere with your relationship, that someone will come along and try and tear the two of you apart – he’s terrified of losing you, of losing who he genuinely believes to be his true love to some other man, to some other loser who decided you were pretty and would be a fun catch.

Kotarou is self-aware enough to know that he isn’t the ideal man, that you likely don’t love his mood swings, his habits of switching emotions quicker than you can likely keep up. He knows this, which is why it makes it so much more painful when that coworker of yours starts talking to you more, looking at you with such light and happy eyes, staring at you with what Kotarou is absolutely sure is a blush on his cheeks, when he’s leaning in way too much.

His possessiveness flares up especially in his sadder moments – when he’s already spiraling into a fit of self-doubt, it’s easy to read too far into any situation in which your gaze flickers over to another guy, easy to over examine the way you quickly apologize after bumping into a player on the opposite team in the hallway.

It’s so fucking easy to feel like his place as your rightful partner, as your lover and boyfriend and future husband is being threatened when he sees literally anyone approach you – because really, Kotarou can’t help but wonder if you’d like them more, if maybe you’re only nice to him and letting him hug you, compliment you, and everything else because you feel sorry for him, because you’re pitying him.

And it’s those thoughts that drive him to march up to you and pull you into his chest, to press your ear against his heart while he buries his face in your hair, tears streaming down his cheeks as he asks in a whisper if he’s still enough, if you’ve found someone else, if you even really love him.

And really, as disarming and disorienting as it is, there’s some part of you that will feel bad for him, that will want to comfort this man so obviously in need of praise, so obviously in need of someone to tell him that yes, he’s enough, yes you love him and you’ll always love him.

Even if it’s not true – even if it’s just something you’re saying out of a misplaced sense of guilt, even if it’s something you’ll find yourself horribly regretting the deeper into delusion Kotarou sinks. And so, as you promise that you do in fact want him, that you need him as badly as he needs you and that you’ll never, ever leave him, Kotarou slowly begins to relax, melting into your arms and trying to calm his ragged breaths, the racing of his heart, the tears flowing down his cheeks.

It’s difficult, but as he pulls back and sees your confused, beautiful fucking face, a small smile makes its way onto his lips, the knowledge that you’ll never leave him ringing in his head. Because really, how could he ever ask for anything more?

All he needs is you you you, and now that you’ve promised him, he’ll hold you to it. And when you’re trapped by his side some time later, those strong arms wrapped suffocatingly tight around your waist and his grin big and dopey and scary as he promises to never, ever let you leave his side, you’ll really only have yourself to blame. Because really, while Kotarou’s jealousy manifests mostly as self-deprication and an increased need for your reassurance and praise, ultimately you’ll be the one to push forward his dependence on you.

You’re the one telling him that he’s wonderful, that you’re not interested in any other men, that he’s every girl’s dream. It’s small things that slowly build up, feeding into Kotarou’s delusions until he’s too far gone to really even listen to you anymore; picking and choosing what he wants to hear from you, twisting your words into some grand declaration of love that gets him smiling like a fool, crushing you into his arms and leaving your lips bruised with the ferocity of his kisses.

You’re just so perfect, huh?

Delusional

But in an extremely specific way – on his own, Kotarou isn’t a particularly delusional man. He’s tied to his beliefs, yes, but he’s grounded and lucid enough to understand the importance of seeing multiple perspectives, of listening to others, of staying in touch with reality and not letting himself get too carried away.

And this is still true in the beginnings of his obsession – he knows that you’re just friends, that you have a budding friendship that he’d like to progress into something more, something deeper and more romantic in its origin. And he’s strict about this for a long time – going to Akaashi for dating advice or asking the ever-grumpy Sakusa how he thinks Kotarou should approach you.

(Akaashi gives much, much more insightful advice than his teammate, of course – telling Kotarou to take things slow and listen to what you want, to let you guide the pace and direction of the relationship. Sakusa merely scoffs and tells him to stop being loud and irritating, and you might have a shot.)

And Kotarou sticks to this advice well in the beginning – establishing a positive connection with you and letting you get comfortable, your friendship blossoming and growing into one that you can foresee being one of your most cherished.

But then elements of his infatuation begin developing, and suddenly that advice gets a bit warped, his understanding of your intentions slowly crumbling away because of one critical, crucial factor: Kotarou grows an incredibly strong sense of attachment towards you.

He’s already quite physically touchy and needy as it is, but as his obsession with you progresses, this dependency morphs into not only the more tactile side of things, but his mental state as well. He quickly grows to absolutely need you in every sense of the word; you’re something that keeps him tethered, grounded. Your love and attention is something that he needs in order to survive, in order to wake up everyday and get himself out of bed because he knows that he’ll get to see you today, to hug you and touch you and maybe even kiss you if he can catch you off guard enough.

Within the span of a few months after he recognizes that his feelings for you are more romantic than platonic, Koutarou’s entire mental health and wellbeing revolves around you and the attention you give him.

The advice of his friends still rings through his head, but he instead begins interpreting your actions as you wanting to foster this dependency of his. He thinks that you’re aware of his brewing feelings, and that you feel the same way – surely that’s what you mean when you always praise him, right? His every action comes back to you; he hits a spike in a match he got you exclusive, front-row player’s box seats for?

Well, he’s immediately peering up into the stands, golden eyes frantically searching for you, and once he spots you he’s waving like a madman, blowing obnoxious kisses at you, proudly exclaiming that was for you babe! And he’ll keep going until you acknowledge him, until you give him a thumbs up and a toothy smile, until you yell back that you’re so proud of you, Ko!

(Of course, the phrasing of ‘babe’ is a bit suspect, but you’ll blame it on mishearing him in the loud, packing stadium.)

When he tries out a new recipe for a particular dish he knows you love, he’s eager to call you, begging you to drop whatever it is you’re doing and swing by his apartment to try because he really, really needs you to say you like it.

(He’ll be watching with rapt attention as you hover the fork to your lips, practically not breathing as he watches you chew and swallow, his palms so sweaty and clammy that he nearly drops the pan in excitement when you compliment the food. Don’t pay attention to the way he gulps loud enough for you to hear, nor the way he grabs you by the waist and spins you around, laughing that booming laugh of his and seeming much too joyous for a simple well-cooked meal.)

Everything comes back to the basic principal that Koutarou just wants desperately to impress you – he thrives on your praise, seeing you proud of him and happy to call him yours, and he’s leaping at each and every possible chance to achieve that, to make you laugh and wrap your arms around him, to whisper into his ear that you’re so proud baby, I know you worked so hard, now what’dya say we go home and I reward you for all that hard work, just how you like it?

He’s committed to being your dream partner, to being someone you can proudly call your own, and he quite literally needs you praise and validation in every aspect of his life to solidify his delusions about the way you feel for him – your opinion is something he values over his own life, your presence something he genuinely believes he can’t live without, and so to have you by his side constantly, always smiling at him and making him feel so giddy and happy is something that Kotarou really honestly needs.

The bottom line is that his entire emotional and mental state rests firmly upon your shoulders, firmly upon your reactions to the things he does for you – so keep that in mind as he rushes up to you with the excitement and energy of a puppy, ranting and raving about how he managed to hit one of Atsumu’s new kinds of tosses or block one of Hinata’s best spikes.

Keep it in mind as he presses you flush against his body, his face buried into your neck, his audible inhale and whimper that vibrates against your skin making a shiver shoot up your spine in anything but pleasure. Keep in mind that now it’s your responsibility to keep Kotarou happy, that your job is essentially to make sure that he stays at least somewhat stable.

(With the pressure coming from the entire management staff of the MSBY team, who’ve realized that Kotarou has a bit of a massive crush on you – you, who isn’t doing the best financially, who could very much not survive a class-action lawsuit for ruining one of their star players.)

And once he’s stolen away, it’s your responsibility to keep him happy so that he keeps leaving the apartment, leaving you, making sure that you have enough food and water to survive, so that his depressive episodes don’t cost you your life.

So really, have fun; because eventually the emotional toll will hit you, but don’t worry because Kotarou will be right there to help pick you up again.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Because his jealous streak is really quite strong, Koutarou has a tendency to misinterpret nearly every single interaction you have with a member of the opposite sex.

He’s automatically assuming that everyone is interested in you, that everyone wants to date you and make you smile and kiss you and fuck you, all of which are things that only he should be allowed to do. He’s jumping to conclusions before things really even happen, sure that you’ll somehow be manipulated into leaving him, into leaving the happy, loving relationship you share with him.

It’s a fear that permeates his every moment when he’s away from you (something that is admittedly quite rare, but still), that seeps into the back of his mind no matter how hard he tries to convince himself that you love him, that you’d never cheat on him or trade him in for someone better.

Of course, he trusts you enough to not immediately act upon his jealousy when he notices another man in your vicinity. Rather, he’ll start demanding your attention even more, trying to keep you physically turned away from the stranger and keep your eyes focused only on Kotarou, because if you can’t see the man, the man can’t see you, right?

It’s poor logic, and Kotarou panics the entire time he tries to stall, only able to imagine the way you’d look by this new man’s side.

And at the end of the day, that’s really it – Kotarou knows that he’s not perfect. You, with your lovely figure, beautiful face, wonderful personality, and many talents, could really get any guy of your choice. So why would you want him?

He seems confident, like he has no doubts about himself and his abilities, and for the most part he doesn’t, but there’s just something about you that makes him constantly reanalyze himself, that makes him wonder if he’s really enough, if he could ever really be enough for someone as perfect as you.

Sure he’s athletic, friendly, handsome, kind, but he’s not the number one hitter in the league, not the brightest, not the most charming, not the best looking or most mysterious or funniest or any number of other things that you might find more attractive.

And as time passes this eats away at Kotarou’s mind, driving him insane the longer it occupies the back of his thoughts because he just can’t shake the image of you in another man’s arms, laughing and kissing them and just being so fucking happy without him.

He’s dependent on you to an unhealthy degree, absolutely fixated on the idea of needing you in his life, and so Kotarou doesn’t really hold back in terms of trying to control his jealousy – he knows he needs to step in before you even get the chance to be lulled in by some other man. He needs to interfere before he loses you forever, and while he knows you’re probably embarrassed by how he barges in anytime you talk to someone else, Kotarou doesn’t let it hold him back.

Nothing can hold him back in the face of something as terrifying as losing you.

You’d never pegged Kotarou as one for video games, but when he’d dragged you to the new arcade that opened up a few blocks from his house, he practically seemed like a child in a toystore.

With his hand wrapped tightly around yours, he’d led you through row after row of game machines, golden eyes wide as he pointed to each and every one, promising you that he’d beat this one in two tries, or that one with his eyes closed. It’d been endearing in a way, watching how excited he’d gotten, before he dragged you over to a game in the far corner with especially bright lights and all sorts of noises coming from it.

He’d challenged you, telling you with a booming laugh that he’d bet you couldn’t beat him, a challenge you eagerly accepted. And really, while he’d been mildly embarrassed to sheepishly admit he’d run out of quarters after his fifth try through the game, it didn’t stop him from practically sprinting up to the ticketing counter, digging in his wallet for the largest dollar bill he had on hand to trade in. Leaving you alone at the game, biting your lip and reading over all the cartoon-style text decorating the game’s exterior.

You were so engrossed in the game’s appearance that you didn’t hear the blond man’s calls to you, shy little excuse me’s falling on deaf ears. Soon a tapping at your shoulder tapped you out of your reverie, spinning around to come face to face with a man you’d never seen before. Sandy blond hair and thick rimmed glasses sitting atop a rather brightly colored dress shirt and dark jeans.

Do you know how to play? Even his voice seemed timid, and while you were a bit shocked at his question, you’d only smiled and said no, hoping the man would drop some hints on ways to beat Kotarou – hearing his boasting was worse than hearing his moping, after all.

The man seemed relieved, moving forward to restart the game and talking you through the level, telling you tips on when to jump, which treasure chests were worth more, tricks on how to move the toggle piece, even telling you that the game would sometimes glitch and delete off ten seconds to your total time if you moved just right.

You’d thanked him profusely, excitement brewing in your chest at the thought of how you would crush Kotarou, but the sudden feeling of being watched washed over you and left you stiffening up, no longer paying attention to the stranger’s words.

In less than a moment, you were suddenly pushed from behind, spun around so that your back was pressed against the arcade wall, the breath knocked out of your lungs and Kotarou’s face – fit with a scowl – filling up your entire view.

Your surprised yelp was cut off by him suddenly lunging forward, his lips settling onto yours hard enough to make you flinch a bit. He kissed you roughly, loudly, the sound of wet smacking filling your ears and surely the stranger’s, if his facial expression was anything to go by. With red cheeks and a shocked look spread across his features, the man was quick to stutter an apology and speed off, trying to avoid the sight of Kotarou pressing you tighter against the wall and the sound of his groans and grunts.

As soon as the man was out of sight, Kotarou pulled back, licking his lips and looking at you with something akin to hunger swirling in those golden eyes.

Who was that?

Is all he got out, hands still firmly placed at your waist.

Your shock barred you from answering right away, before a resounding smack rung through his ears, the mild pain of your slap to his chest leaving him winded, the pleasant sensation of you touching him numbing out some of the hot, angry envy in his veins.

What the hell was that, Kotarou? You practically yell at him, the sound drowned out by the ringing of a few games nearby.

Kotarou only sighs, squeezing your sides and fixing you with an unblinking stare.

That man was bothering you, couldn’t he see you were here with me?

At your bewildered look, he merely laughed, one hand coming up to teasingly ruffle your hair. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll leave us alone for the rest of the day. Now c’mon, I got more quarters – watch me win!

And just like that, he seemed to have forgotten all about the rather heated, intimate moment he’d instigated – all smiles and laughter and taunts for the rest of the day as you shakily and wearily settled by his side, trying to rationalize that perhaps it looked different to an outsider.

Perhaps Kotarou thought the man was bothering you, and was worried he’d only get the hint through extreme measures. And he’s always been a bit extreme and exaggerated, surely he meant nothing by the kiss – even if it had been rather graphic, even if he’d been practically moaning at just the taste of you.

That must be it, you decide, as Kotarou whines and pouts about losing the level once more, begging you to give him just one more try. The small, half-hearted smile you give him is enough permission for him, and just that look settles the raging jealousy in his heart.

You were looking at him again, just as you should be – him and him only.

(And later that night, that’s what’s falling past his lips in a mantra as he vividly remembers the feel of your body in his hands, your lips pressed against his own, the smell of you clouding his every breath.)

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Kotarou’s infatuation with you is, in most ways, strange.

He’s utterly obsessed, of course – his every waking moment is either revolving around volleyball or you, often times mixing and jumbling up so that he’s imagining all sorts of things that get him grinning like a fool, his cheeks bright red and his breathing too heavy to be considered normal.

(Things like seeing you wear his jersey, for example, or having you toss him a ball that he smacks so hard it hurts, seeing your impressed and flustered expression as he teases you about how strong he is. The kind of thing that makes his chest swell with pride, that makes him bite his lip and clutch at his covers late at night when he’s dreaming and wanting and needing you.)

His feelings for you carelessly breach any sort of trust or boundaries between the two of you, and for the most part Kotarou doesn’t see an issue with this.

Of course you probably don’t like when he checks the tracker he’d installed into your phone, but it’s just for safety and he’s sure you’ll eventually understand! It’s unsafe to let someone like you travel around alone at night (or in the day, or in crowded streets or public parks or even in the safety of your own home-).

He’s just taking an extra precaution to make sure someone’s got an eye on you – he’d be more than happy to install a tracker into his phone for you to keep tabs on his location too, if you’d like. (And oh, he wishes you’d like that.)

You’re probably not the biggest fan of when he wraps an arm around you in public, beaming and planting a wet, long kiss against your temple as he greets you, walking to your favorite coffee shop with his arm still wrapped around you, migrating down to your waist and making walking uncomfortable while he prattles on and on about his latest training regiment.

(And sure, maybe he’s exaggerating just a hair about how much he can bench press, or how fast his serves are, but those golden eyes of his are constantly scanning your expressions, looking for even the slightest hint of awe, analyzing any signs that you’re impressed with his physical prowess, his dedication. Impressed by him, really.)

And so really, Kotarou breaks every physical and intangible barrier and wall that you have down, slowly and bit by bit until you’re so desensitized to his antics and his behavior towards you that you stop questioning it. You’re not exactly supportive of the possessive, overly clingy way he treats you, but it’s just Kotarou, so really how harmful can it be? He’s just a silly, overgrown puppy of a man, and why should you ever be afraid of him?

And Kotarou’s feelings towards your living situation reflect this sentiment – that is, he absolutely does not want to kidnap you.

Not only does he find the term entirely unapplicable to your situation if he were to steal you away (because he’s convinced that on some core level you’d actually be pleased, like you want him to whisk you away and keep you wrapped up in his apartment as his little housewife), but it leaves an unpleasant taste in his mouth to imagine keeping you cooped up in one place all the time.

He loves to be out with you, to take you to markets and restaurants and movies and all sorts of other things – he likes having you out in public. It stresses him out a bit, yes, constantly being vigilant and aware of any man that tries to approach you, but by and large he finds that he enjoys your company most and enjoys showing you off most when you’re not all alone at home.

That isn’t to say that he dislikes cozy movie nights spent on his couch with now-cold takeout sprawled across the table, but there’s just something special about seeing you laugh so hard you cry because of him in a busy, sunny street café where everyone can see just how entertained you are by him.

(Those cozier evenings are of course favorites of him, though, because he gets to see a more intimate side of you – when you get sleepy and your eyes start drooping, he has to physically hold himself back from cooing and squishing your cheeks. And especially when you fall asleep on his shoulder or shift just right so that he worm his way into your arms, noticing how your flimsy sleeping shorts ride up just a hair to expose the lower curve of your ass, his mouth is left watering and his own shorts feel uncomfortably tight – something he'd be absolutely crazy to dislike.)

And so, Kotarou will hold off for as long as possible on stealing you away, just for the selfish reason of being able to drag you to all his games, to pretty dates (that you aren’t aware are dates, of course, but that’s just a technicality), to keep you happy and excited and free by his side.

But if things were to go south and you started to really critically analyze his behavior and decide that you don’t want to remain in his life?

Well, Kotarou has never quite felt panic like when you swing by his apartment one last time to announce that you’re moving away. He’s never quite felt a level of dismay like when you tell him you’ll be blocking his number because he’s made you uncomfortable, or when you tell him you’ll be crashing at a male friend’s place.

And really, that last portion is the kicker – it sends Kotarou’s mind spiraling, panic engulfing him and leading him to grab you, his hands shaking as he holds you, eyes flashing as he drags you to his bedroom, holding you down on the bed and using a spare t-shirt to tie up your wrists and ankles.

He’s never known fear like this before, and as he stares down at you – writhing, looking at him with tears in your eyes, looking at him –

He’s never quite known excitement like this before, either.

As a captor, Kotarou isn’t terrible – with one glaring exception: he’s needy. You’ve known this for as long as you’ve known him, but once you’re trapped in his home this is only amplified, the clinginess getting worse and worse because you have no way to dissuade his touchiness, no way to distract him away with outside people and activities.

No, now it’s strictly you and him – which is heaven for Kotarou, exactly what he’s been fantasizing about come to life.

Unfortunately for you, this means excessive time spent together and a lot of physical contact. Though his delusions aren’t quite deep enough to fully mask the fact that you’re unhappy, Kotarou is able to chalk up your lack of enthusiasm for things you did pre-kidnapping as you simply being moody, shy, womanly.

It’s infuriating how much he blames your behavior on your hormones and menstrual cycle.

He’s practically impossible to deal with once your period begins, his touches soft and gentle and nearly scared, treating you like you’re some breakable, delicate piece of treasure that can’t do anything on your own.

He’ll cook meals for you, then promptly bring the chopsticks up to your mouth and say ahh, smiling like a fool as he guides the ramen past your lips, nodding enthusiastically when you chew.

He’ll hold your hand and help you walk around the apartment, big eyes wide and worried when you near any corners, terrified that you’ll somehow hurt yourself because you’re distracted with cramp pain or simply having brain fog. And really, it would be endearing how earnestly he’s trying to make you comfortable and provide for you during your time of the month, but there’s something truly humiliating about the level of disregard he feels for your complaints, simply smiling lopsidedly at you and telling you don’t worry, I’ll make it all better! I’ve got some of that chocolate you like, you want some? I can heat up your heating pad too, and we can watch some old reruns of my games – you’d like that, right? You like watching me play, yeah?

And really, that’s the main thing with Kotarou – the level of care and attention he both gives to you and demands from you is incredibly draining.

The constant feeling of walking on eggshells around him is enough to have your mind running in circles, constantly worried that you’ll say the wrong thing about his personality or his actions and have him moping, convinced that you’re just being mean because you’re disappointed in him, that you’re just playing hard to get because he hasn’t been treating you like you deserve. And so how does he respond to this?

By giving you more attention, swamping you with questions and touches and all sorts of things for the two of you to do together. He’s always forcing you onto the couch to try out a new video game Akinori mentioned when he last ran into him, or watching a scary movie and clutching onto you for dear life at every jump scare.

(He thinks it’s romantic, but the slight bruising left on your thighs and sides from his very, very tight grip are less sweet.)

He’s just generally so very out of touch with how you’re feeling that it’s infuriating – but you have to be careful, because everything you do and say will only cause him to grasp onto you tighter, clutching onto you with more strength than you can handle because his entire mental wellbeing is still resting firmly on your shoulders. He forces you to sleep in bed beside him, waking up to you tangled in his arms every morning, starting his day off right and making it slightly easier to leave you for early morning trainings.

(He has to wake up with you every morning or else he feels like something’s off, his performance severely lacking and the only thing that can fix it being excessive affection from you – something a bit difficult to come by.)

He forces you to share meals with him because it gives him a reason to unabashedly stare at you (though he does this anyway, frequently) and watch as you eat the food he provided you. He has to be the sole one cooking or buying you take out, because it feeds the narrative he’s crafted in his head that he’s your provider, that he’s taking care of you, that he’s being a good male partner and spoiling his perfect little wife.

(Of course, you may not be married yet, but to Kotarou it’s just a matter of time – you’re already entwined in every possible way, living together and spending every waking moment together, so why bother with formal ceremonies and official titles when he can just buy a diamond and slip onto your finger with a toothy grin and a much too long and much too detailed declaration of his love? Of course, if you want the ceremony he’d be more than willing to give it to you, but he’s content with the knowledge that you’re his and his alone already.)

So really, if you can handle his hands constantly being on you, his lips always pressed against your skin, his voice always ringing in your ears, and his presence always a looming shadow over you demanding your praise and attention and time, Kotarou isn’t terrible.

There’s shades of genuine love in how he treats you – the gentleness in his touches, the tenderness of his compliments, the way he’ll moan into your ear the most adoring, utterly pathetic things as he settles himself between your legs.

There’s evidence that he truly loves you in some horrible, twisted way, but it all just feels like too much. Too forceful, too desperate, too passionate, too him.

But no amount of trying to get through to him will ever change the way he treats you, or ever persuade him into loosing the metaphorical lease he keeps you on – you’re his, and no matter how hard you try Kotarou will always firmly believe that fate has brought you together.

And isn’t that so romantic?

PUNISHMENTS:

In general, it’s rare for Kotarou to get genuinely angry at you.

Of course he has his highs and lows – he may be unwilling to seriously listen to your complaints or insults hurled at him, but he’s not inhuman. He still knows that you’re being mean – criticizing him and visibly displeased with him, and just that fact alone has his eyes drooping, guilt, self-pity and shame resting heavily on his shoulders.

His delusions about your feelings for him bar him from fully comprehending that your anger lies in the fact that he’s kidnapped you rather than not cuddling with you the night before, but he can still tell that something is amiss. He doesn’t like when you aren’t smiling and happy, when you’re bothered and troubled, when you aren’t acting like you used to, back before he relocated you to his apartment.

It’s upsetting, really, and it leaves Kotarou desperate to figure out how to get a grin back onto your lips, how to make you laugh, how to please you again. A lot of Kotarou’s anger and punishments stem from a place of insecurity and worry about your perception of him – he’s really quite sensitive, especially coming from someone he idolizes and reveres as much as you, and so his solutions to any sort of non-desirable behavior from you is to simply try harder.

It’s seemed to have worked in his career – hours upon hours upon hours spent lagging after practices to work on his spikes just a bit more, to serve just a few more balls, to get just a bit better.

And he applies this same principle with you – he’d rather pull his nails off one by one than physically hurt you or deny you of food and water or leave you all alone or any number of things he could do to force your codependency on him to become stronger.

And so, Kotarou wracks his brain for any and all possibilities on how to get you to like him more, on how to make you happy, on how to be a better boyfriend.

And frankly, it results in a much, much worse time for you.

If you thought Kotarou was clingy before you yelled at him for installing locks on his windows, then he’s downright glued to your side afterwards, his breath constantly fanning on your cheeks and his voice seemingly never ending as it rings over and over and over in your ears.

If you thought being in the same room as him was difficult before you slapped him across the face for giving your ass a playful squeeze, it’s nothing compared to how he plants more and more kisses onto your unwilling lips, leaving pretty dresses and lacy lingerie out on your (forcefully shared) bed for you, the way he starts piling on the compliments with such frequency and urgency that it nearly makes you sick.

Kotarou has always been a lot, truly, and once his feelings for you are thrown into the mix he becomes too much – and when you’re angry at him, ignoring him or hurling insults at him or denying his affection?

Well, the sadness quickly dissipates into fear, anxiety eating at every inch of his body because what if you hate him now?

You’re meant for one another, sure, but what if he’s messed it all up by not being enough for you?

It’s the stuff of nightmares, and in order to correct it he’ll instead become your nightmare.

You hear him before you see him – his keys jingle loudly in his pocket, the rhythmic noises of the padlock on the front door locking back up sounding too familiar now. You’re sitting at the dining table, staring down at the new book Kotarou had gifted you a week ago – you’ve read it twice already in that span of time, but as his footsteps approach the kitchen area, you resolve to read it once again.

His voice is loud as he calls your name, and you can hear the smile on his face as his footsteps quicken, his pace nearly turning to a run as he approaches you. His arms are around you before you can stop them, his words already pouring out as he starts telling you all about his day, rambling on about how Meian and Hinata had promised to take Kotarou out to a new bar later this week.

He’s still hugging you as he goes on to tell you that it’s supposed to be super good, I’ll have to let you know how it is! Maybe I can bring something home for you – I know your favorite’s always been –

Your mouth is moving before you can even really stop yourself, the words seeming to burst out without your control. Don’t tell me about all your plans in the outside world – not when I’m stuck here wasting away in this fucking apartment.

Your voice is low, uneven, and immediately Kotarou tenses, his eyebrows drawing together into a pout. What are you talking about? I just want to bring you a good drink and maybe we can watch that trashy rom-com you love and –

You cut him off again by harshly shaking off his arms from around you, moving your elbows out in an attempt to get him off of you.

Don’t you get it? I don’t want you to get me a drink! I don’t want you to do anything for me – you need to let me go, Kotarou. You can’t keep me stuck here forever! I should be out there getting a drink too, and going to the fucking store and seeing my friends and living my life! You’re – you’re a terrible person, and I hate you!

Your chest is heaving by the time you finish your spiel, having started off in that same low tone but eventually getting to a yell. He’d backed off of you, watching you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, his mind racing and trying to understand what you could possibly mean.

Stuck here? What were you saying?

You were happy here – you always return his hugs and his kisses and let him pull you closer to his chest at night and laugh at his jokes and smile at him and say you love him to and and and –

He moves back towards you, going to wrap his arms around you again, but this time you stand up and scurry off to the other end of table and now Kotarou can see the way your eyes are glossy, how you’re on the verge of tears and your lip is trembling.

Leave me alone, I can’t stand you! Not after what you’ve done to me!

And with that, you turn tail and run off to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you. Behind the door your hands shake, the tears finally falling as you slide down the wood, landing in a sitting position and cursing Kotarou for not putting locks on the interior doors.

A fresh wave of tears falls down your cheeks as you realize you can’t even use the toilet in peace, not without the constant, lingering threat of him watching you. It’s too much, and soon your head is in your hands, sobs wracking your body.

Meanwhile, Kotarou is still standing frozen, his heart and mind racing because you’re obviously upset. He doesn’t know why you’re overreacting like this, but the image of you with tears in your eyes pulls at his heartstrings, prompting him to rush and grab his car keys once more, flying out the front door and practically speeding to the nearest store, his grocery cart full.

He’s home roughly twenty minutes later, tears already pooling in his own eyes because the more he’s thought about the state you’re in the more he comes to the conclusion that it’s his fault, that he must’ve made you angry or sad and now he has to fix it.

He has to show you that you don’t hate him – you’re just having a rough day, that’s all. You’re just sad that he’s been gone all day and hasn’t been home to give you the proper love and care that you deserve. His fingers grip the steering wheel tightly even to leave his knuckles white, his teeth grinding and gritting together as he presses down on the gas gauge just a hair harder, desperation and guilt weighing heavily in his chest because god, he hates seeing you so upset.

And as he races back up to the apartment with all the groceries in his arms, he’s quick to wrap his fist against the bathroom door, asking in a breathless voice if you’re okay or if you’re hurt.

You’re still quietly crying, sniffling heavily and trying to ignore him as he knocks again. He knows he could bust the door open, easily overpowering you and giving him direct access to you, but the hurt look in your eyes flashes through his mind again and he decides against it. No, he needs to prove that he’s good enough at reading you and figuring out what you need – he needs to prove himself to you, to make you like him again.

He calls your name through the door again, before resting his forehead against the wood and wincing. I’m sorry for whatever I did, baby, I promise I didn’t mean it!

He hears you scoff at that, and bites his lip.

You know me, sometimes I just get carried away! I never meant to make you upset, you’ve got to know that. He pauses, shifting around the bags in his arms. You mean so much to me, I love you. I love you more than I think I should, but it’s okay! I’ll be better for you, I promise. I’ll be a better boyfriend and I’ll make you happy. Just – you just have to let me try, okay? Please baby, let me try.

It’s silent for a moment, and Kotarou’s chest feels tight.

Please, he tries one last time.

And although you know you shouldn’t and that you’ll regret it, some small part of you almost feels bad as you hear him sniffle through the wood, the sound of him crying obvious. You bite your lip, a small voice in the back of your head quietly wondering if you should believe him.

After all, does he really make you that unhappy? He’s always so eager and pathetically excited when you smile at him, and is it really so bad to have someone give you all their attention and time? You’re ashamed to admit some part of you almost likes it, and soon your body is moving before you can stop it.

The door opens and Kotarou’s heart is in his throat, the sight of you with red, puffy eyes and your lip caught between your teeth making something between a sigh of relief and a whimper slip from him.

The multitude of bags precariously balanced in his arms immediately have your eyes widening, the names of your favorite snacks peeking through the sacks and making that same pang in your heart twist again, the knowledge that he went out and bought all of this for you just because you were sad forcing you to take a step forward.

You don’t say anything, and Kotarou stares at you with wide eyes, a wild sort of look overtaking his parted lips and pink cheeks, and when you mumble something small, he has to physically strain himself to hear you.

You repeat your favorite drink, swallowed harshly and struggling to make eye contact with him. He mouths it back to himself, before slowly, shyly, smiling down at you.

You won’t regret, I promise! He laughs, the sound relieved, dropping all of the shopping bags on the ground and immediately scooping you into his arms, hugging you so tightly you nearly can’t breath, all the while that familiar, chiming laughter fills your ears.

I love you, I love you, I love you he repeats into your ear, keeping you close and occasionally squeezing tighter.

And even as something crumbles up inside you, you find yourself wrapping your arms around him too, shoving your face against his chest and nodding, your words muffled as you murmur the smallest I love you, too back.

And Kotarou can only beam down at you, repeating the phrase over and over until all the words start slurring together, until all you can do is slowly relax into the warmth of his arms, into the feeling of someone completely and utterly loving you.

OVERALL DANGER:

6/10

Kotarou is less dangerous and honestly more pathetic than anything else.

He’s a fully grown man who’s desperate for someone to love, whose desperation becomes so deeply ingrained in his feelings towards you that he clutches onto you and never lets go.

Reading into your feelings festers delusions about how you feel towards him, feeding him pretty lies about how you really feel and what your actions really mean.

He builds a relationship between the two of you in his head, growing closer and more intimate with you than socially acceptable for a friendship, becoming more and more dependent on you and the praise you so willingly give him.

It’s heaven, really, and it leaves Kotarou blinded to the ugly side of his obsession.

He’s clingy and overly possessive, always touching you and calling you his and making sure that everyone sees the two of you together – that everyone knows that you’re his woman and he’s your man.

He wants to make sure that your relationship – fake or not – is idyllic, that you’re so happy with him that you could never even dream of wanting another man, never even entertain the notion of needing anyone else because Kotarou is everything you could ever want.

And while he won’t explicitly acknowledge any behavior that clashes with the pretty image of you and your love that he’s crafted in his head, he’s not immune to your negative reception of his touches and his rather aggressive affection.

You’ll have to walk on eggshells around him, careful to keep him from falling deeply into a spiral that could lead to your own slow demise being trapped under his thumb.

It’s stressful, a lifestyle that’ll leave you haggard and spent, tired to the point where slowly it will stop feeling like an act to return his hugs, to compliment his muscles, to tell him that you missed him while he was away at work.

It will feel less and less like a lie, the words slipping off your tongue so easily that it’ll leave you scared.

Because really, while Kotarou is overbearing and quite honestly scary with the way he barrels forwards and takes whatever he wants from you, eventually you’ll find yourself less and less angry, and more and more complacent. It could be worse, couldn’t it?

You have a warm bed to sleep in, a roof over your head, and food to eat.

And the man that holds you flush to his chest in said bed, pays the rent for said roof, and hand-selects only meals he knows you like can’t possibly be that bad, right?

After all, doesn’t it feel good to be needed?

#_kotarou bokuto #_lee's profiles #_haikyuu #yandere haikyuu #yandere bokuto #yandere kotaro bokuto #yandere kotarou bokuto #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere bokuto x reader #yandere kotarou bokuto x reader

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weirdo-fun · 3 days

Text

What Else Can I Do?

Azriel x Reader - Chapter 2

Here is Chapter 2! I got motivated seeing everyone liking the first chapter so I wrote chapter 2 as soon as I could. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Summary: Reader ends up geting turned fae and befriends Elain and gets super close with her. But Reader notices Elain gets treated differently, and Reader would like to change that but a certain batboy always gets in her way of trying to help her friend and under her skin.

Word Count: 3.2 K (Sorry I had way to much fun with this one so it’s a long one 😅)

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, slight dislike for inner circle, dual POV 👀, fem! Reader, they just can’t get each other out of their heads

Author's Note: Soooo remember when I said Azriel and Reader will be interacting with one another?.... Yeah sorry that is not happening in this chapter. BUT don't be mad, Azriel is in this chapter he just hasn't "found" Reader yet. :)

Side Note: Apologies for any grammar mistakes. And yes I did listen to "What Else Can I Do" from Encanto as I wrote this.

You and Elain walk through the forest on the outskirts of Velaris, not going too deep so you guys can remember how to get back. The snaps of twigs is heard from under your boots. Your skirts perfectly covering your legs to stop tall blades of grass or sticks from scratching both of your skins.

You take a deep breath in, smelling the crisp, tree trunk filled air, breathing in new life after being tucked away in the Town House for quite some time. The lush trees, grass, and needle-covered path reminds you of your home when you were a kid. You used to sneak off and play in the woods for hours with the other kids in the neighborhood. The nostalgic feeling puts a smile on your face.

Elain stops walking and stares up and around her at the trees that seem to almost cover the sky above. You notice her eyes look at the scenery around with fondness. “Beats the boring walls of the Town House doesn’t it?” You ask playfully ask you walk over to her. She nods, “It certainly does.” She pauses for a moment until she looks at you. “Are you sure this is ok?” She asks with worryness in her voice. “I mean, like I know I said yes to this but now that we’re here I am worried what they will do if they find out.” You chuckle, “Hey, you can’t back out now. We are already here. Besides I did leave a note on the dining table saying we will be out and be back soon incase they do come back earlier. So they have no reason to freak out because I literally told them where we are.” You take a moment and your mind immediately goes to Azriel. “Well maybe Azriel will be a prick and throw a fit.” You roll your eyes and think of what he might say if he found out that you took Elain to the woods for a walk.

You scowl, just thinking about how Azriel will yell at you for “taking a delicate girl with no supervision to the woods” and how “she could have gotten hurt”. It infuriates you that anything thing you do, you always think of what Azriel might say. He would always be the first to cross your mind when you would think of doing something or question yourself if you should be doing a certain thing. More than likely, you would end up doing whatever it was you were contemplating because it would rile you up just thinking about him telling you what you could and couldn’t do. Even if you knew what you were doing wasn’t the best choice, it was a choice he would disprove of and to you that is all that mattered.

“Hey Azriel isn’t that bad.” Elain tried to say in a convincing tone to try and calm you down. You whip your head towards her with a glare in your eyes. The glare not directed at her but to who she was talking about. “Really?” You say unconvinced. “Azriel, the one who makes it his mission to scold me for almost anything for the simple fact that I don’t agree how he treats you. The same Azriel that doesn’t like me because I talk back to him when I am pretty sure he expects me to just nod my head and agree. The same person in which we can’t even sit next to each other in the same room or we start bickering about how the other one is sitting in the chair the wrong way.” Elain looks at you, at lost for words. You nod your head. “Yeah exactly. Sounds like he is a great guy.” You sarcastically say as you roll your eyes.

Elain grabs your hand. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know you guys don’t see eye to eye.” She looks at you with her doe apologetic eyes. “Let’s forget about them for now. Like you said earlier, we are already here. So let’s continue on our walk and take in the scenery.” Her soft voice calming you down almost instantly. You release a deep breath. “Annnnnnd I want to see this improvement of your power that you told me.” Elain says with excitement. “Well it’s not really improvement, more like testing out what else I can do?” You state as a question. Elain wraps her arm around your elbow and starts to pull you along the forest path. “Well then, let’s find out!”

——————————————————

You were getting frustrated, you frown at the lavender flower that you just grow from the ground. “Another flower”, you think to yourself. You huff as you stand up, looking at the different colored flowers and plants circling you in which you unwantedly grew. You have been at this for only 15 minutes, and even though that is not a very long time it felt like an hour past for you. “Maybe you just need a break?” Elain’s voice calls you out of your negative thoughts. She sat on a rock to the side a few feet from where you decided to sit on the forest floor. You walk over to her with your head down in defeat. “I don’t understand, I was able to make a small cactus in my room that one time but now it just seems like my power went back to making just pretty things.” You huff out as you plop yourself next to Elain on the rock. “Why did the Caldron give me the power to grow things when it can only grow pretty flowers, plants, and vines?!” You annoyingly say. “Like I can’t think of a reason why I won’t be able to grow like giant trees, or moss, or poisonous plants, or even venus fly traps!” You look at the sky hoping the Mother can give you an answer. “Maybe a special condition needs to be met?” Elain says in an encouraging voice. “Like maybe, you have to be meditating, or be fulled with anger. Something like that.” You look at her questionably. “I don’t think a “special condition” needs to be met. I was able to do it once before but now it just seems like the power is blocked somehow.” You try to explain to Elain. It frustrated you not knowing how you were able to grow the cacti some time ago and now you can’t. “Well what were you doing when you grew the cactus? Maybe whatever it was triggered the cactus to grow?” You sit there thinking hard on Elain’s question. You run through the memory again to try and find an answer, a clue as to what triggered the cactus to grow.

It was early in the afternoon, you were sitting on your window sill looking out at Velaris. You did this sometimes where you would sit and just watch the city at any point in the day. There was no particular reason why you did it, you just enjoyed not having to think about anything and just watch the world move forward. You started fiddling with some vines you grew from your hands, twisting and turning them. You then started to add small flowers buds to the vines. The small buds slowly began to bloom into small flowers of a soft blue color. As you were growing new vines and flowers into the mix, you stood up from the window sill and began to pace slowly in your room as you concentrated on making a flower crown. As you were mindlessly making the crown you started humming a song. You don’t know what song, you just started to hum a tune. As you hummed, you mindlessly were growing this intricate flower pattern of blue and purple flowers. Not realizing that the vines sprouting from the crown were growing towards the floor of your room and started to spread across the floor. You were stuck in your own little world humming a song that you didn’t notice that on the floor one of the vines started to grow vertically, and started to take a different shape. It was only then when you finished making the flower crown and you finished humming the song that you noticed the little cactus with a small blue flower on top next to your feet. Your eyes widen, you never knew you could do that. Then you looked around the room and realized that you let your power go a little bit too much. Vines and flowers spread across the floor of the bedroom and up onto the walls. You did notice that the vines and flowers looked bigger than they normally should. You marveled at what you created and wanted to know if you could do more.

You blink as you recall the memory of that day. Now thinking back, you did realize that you were very calm and you weren’t actually trying to grow anything at all. “I was just humming a song while mindlessly making a flower crown.” You begin to say to Elain. “I-I think I wasn’t really focussing on anything to be honest. I was actually in my own world subconsciously making the crown.” Elain thinks for a moment and then says, “Maybe that what it is then. Don’t think about it too hard and be relaxed.” You look at her with almost a confused puppy look in your eyes. “Well how do I do that? I can’t just not think about what I want to grow. And before you say meditate like you said before you know damn well I am bad at that.” Elain thinks for a moment, she then smiles and stands up pulling you with her. “Well you said you were humming a song. Then lets hum a song and dance together.” She says completely serious. You look at her not believing what she is suggesting because this is a little out of character for her. “Are you serious?” You question making sure you heard her right. “100 percent.” She nods and smiles at you. “Come on, you were the one saying that I needed to start being more confident in myself and being able to voice my opinion out loud. I think dancing and singing in the middle of the forest without a care in the world will help me let go of my… “delicate nature”. Plus it will help you relax and not think too hard on your power.” You look at her and seeing the determination in her eyes tells you she is super serious about this.

You give her the biggest smile and giggle as you grab her hand and start to spin her around. Elain laughs and she continues to dance with you with no music. She spins you around and you guys continue this unchoreographed dance with smiles, giggles, and laughs coming from both of you. To have some fun you begin to throw flower pedals in the air like confetti and they fall down around both of you, some getting caught in your guys’s hairs. As you guys dance, jump, and spin, flowers begin to grow surrounding you guys coming from you as the centerpoint. You don’t realized it at first but once you do, you feel a slight weight of power being lifted like the locked door holding your power back was slowly getting unlocked. It felt like the flowers danced with you; they didn’t feel like you were forcing them to grow. It felt like they listened to what you wanted in the moment and obeyed you. You took a hold of that feeling and continued to run with it. As you did a hand full of cacti popped up from the ground. You and Elain stopped dancing and looked at the cacti with amazement. Joyous yells came from both of you, happy that the dancing worked. Who knew having a good a time could unlock a power?

With the new found feeling of your power and determination in your eyes you grab a hold of that closed door on your power open it. The rush of energy rushed through you and it almost seemed your sensed were heighten even more. Everything, touch, taste, sight, smell, and hearing. But it was a different change to your senses. It’s like you could feel the sort of life energy flowing through the grass beneath your boots; it seemed like you could hear the trees dancing as the wind blew past, to the whispered song that the flowers sung. Nature smelled, different. Like more alive. You couldn’t explain it, but it felt like nature came alive and you could understand it.

“Hey! Reader are you ok?” Elain tugs on your arm worry written on her face as she sees you starring off. You blink a couple of times, shaking off the shock of your unlocked power. You lift your hands up and in a few seconds an enlarged sapphire blue flower springs up from the ground. The massive size of the flower scares Elain and she stumbles back a few steps. After a few seconds it takes for Elain to recover, she stares at the flower and then at you. “Holy wow. You can do that?!” Elains voice laced with interest and excitement. She walks over to the massive flower, each pedal being her size, to get a better look up close. “I think I can a lot more than that.” You smile walking over to stand next to her. She turns to you intrigued, “Well then let’s see it. What else can you do?”

——————————————————

Azriel POV

Shadows disburse as Azriel lands on the balcony of the Town House in the late afternoon. He sighs, glad to be back in Velaris. The mission that Rhys sent him on not only took longer than it needed to take, but Rhys could have easily done it himself. But being High Lord is tiresome and requires a lot of work, so his attention was needed else were.

Azriel steps into the Town House ready for a quick bath and a cup of tea to help the incoming headache that he knows will receive, before dinner is served. His mind on the warm bath he was thinking of taking was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps, a door swinging open, and a yell. “SHE’S NOT HERE!” Nesta’s worried and panicked voice echoes throughout the manor.

Azriel stops in his tracks for a mear moment and briskly begins to walks in the direction of Nesta’s voice. His shadows start to swarm him, feeling their master’s concern over the commotion so they try to comfort him. “Whose not here? What happened?” Azriel thinks as he makes his way through the manor.

Azriel follows the yelling and ends up at Elain’s bedroom. Standing at the entrance to her room with the door wide open Azriel sees Nesta panicked written face and Cassian standing next to her with a comforting hand on her shoulder to try and calm her down. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to Elain?” Azriel’s voice grabs the couples attention to see him take a few steps into the room. “We can’t find Elain.” Nesta answers worriedly. “Or Reader.” Cassian adds. “We looked around the manor and neither of them are here.” Cassian states as he walks towards Azriel. “What! Are you sure you checked every room?” Azriel questions with hope laced into his voice. Before Cassian could get a word in, Azriel sent out his shadows to scour the manor for any signs of the girls.

His shadows come back and tells him that you and Elain were gone. Azriel was about to send them back out to search throughout Velaris for you guys but one shadow whispered to him that there was a note on the dining table. Without a word to Nesta or Cassian, Azriel speed walk to the dining hall.

He walks in and he does noticed a small folded piece of paper on the large wooden table. Azriel picks it up, unfolds it and reads it.

“Incase you guys get back earlier than we do. Elain and I are going for a walk in the woods. We shouldn’t be too long, so don’t worry.”

P.S. We won’t stray too far so don’t panic Azriel

-Reader :)

Azriel crumbles the piece of paper and stuffs it in one of his leather pockets. He can’t believe you took Elain out of the Town House when he specifically told Elain to stay inside until either him or Nesta and Cassian got back to escort her if she wished to go somewhere. He should have known that you would convince Elain to do the opposite of what he says. He should have either convinced Cassian and Nesta to take you with them or forced you to go with him on his mission so that THIS wouldn’t happen. Frustration builds inside Azriel as he makes his way back to the balcony, getting ready to fly to the forest to bring Elain back and to yell at you for clearly going against his wishes.

“Az!” Cassian's voice is heard from behind the shadowsinger, as his heavy footsteps come closer. “Did you find them?” Azriel shakes his head. “No, but I know where they are.” Azriel takes the note from his pocket and holds it up for Cassian. “Reader thought it would a great idea to take Elain to the woods for a walk.” Sarcasm and annoyance fell from his voice. “I swear, that woman is something else.” Azriel states with irritation. “Hey, how about we focus on finding Reader and Elain and then you can decide if you want to bicker with her. Even though I think you are being too hard on her.” Cassian says as calmly as he could to try and settle Azriel down. Azriel doesn’t respond, he just glares at him. “Let’s just find them and bring the back.” Azriel says as his wings shoot him to the sky and carry him towards the forest with Cassian in tow.

You always did this. Ever since you became friends with Elain, you always disproved of him. It frustrated Azriel to no end that you would always talk back and bicker at him. He disliked how anytime he would tell Elain to do something you would always have something to say back. Even if it didn’t regard Elain, you always wanted to say something. This wasn’t the first time you pulled a stunt like this off. There were a few times where he specifically told you not to do something and what did you do? You did the complete opposite. It’s like you like to push his buttons, get him riled up, and angry at you. He doesn’t understand why you hate so much. All he has done, or tried to do, was to protect Elain because, unlike you with your extroverted nature, she has a softer nature. And Azriel, including the rest of the inner circle, want her to be comfortable and secure after everything that she went through. The same treatment would be applied to you if you had her personally but you don’t. You have to have a very friendly, social butterfly type personality that Azriel tries to hate, but subconsciously finds it interesting, intriguing even.

Azriel shakes his head from the thought of you. Lately his head has been filed with thoughts of you. Anything he did or said, he would always think, “what would Reader say? How would she react?” He would imagine different scenarios of you getting upset at him or throwing a sly remark his way. It perplexes Azriel that you have been taking over his mind, and it aggravated him.

That is it for chapter 2! Hope you enjoyed it! So glad I finally brought Azriel into the story. As you guys can see by the amount of words I have, I had to delay Reader's and Azriel's interaction with one another by one more chapter. Sorry! :( But man don't they hate each other so much? Gosh, just can't keep each other out of their own heads! Well anyway, that is all! If you want to be added to the taglist please leave a comment and I will add you! I hope I did the taglist correctly I have never done one before so if someone can give me advice on how to do one properly that would be great because Google did not help at all. P.S. Just to let you guys know I will gone for vacation for about a week, I can't promise you guys anything but I will try to write what I can so that when I come back I can finish it up the next chapter as soon as possible and post it for you guys. I hate that I will have to keep y'all waiting. But until then take care! :)

taglist:

@aehllitas-blog @horneybeach1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #pro elain #nesta archeron #cassian acotar #cassian #a court of thorns and roses #elain archeron #acowar #female reader #weirdofunfic #weirdofun #music inspired #shower thoughts

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igotanidea · 2 days

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Test ride: Jason Todd x reader preview

Guys! I might be back from the dead! With a bleeding heart and tired mind, but with a few ideas up my sleeve :)

***

One thing about her was sure.

She was unbribeable.

And that was something in Gotham.

And I s'pose a vigilante, even Batman himself, can use a little help from a lawyer sometimes, right?

And clearly, one day, councellor Y/N Y/L/N got so tired of working with her ordinary cases, that she started aimlessly wandering across the Gotham's alleys.

Or maybe it was some sick self-destructive instincts. (pretty similar to someone else's if you ask me...).

The point was, Batman jumped in, saved her ass, yadda, yadda, yadda.

And she got his attention.

A few weeks later, Tim's style, she figured out his real identity. And therefore, joined the team. (subjecting Bruce to merciless teasing from the batkids, mocking him with the all-familiar phrase "do not involve civilians in the bussiness).

Obviously, Y/N was not a front-line fighter, but sidelines worked quite well for her as she focused on lawyering, cracking cases like walnuts and providing intel and insight.

But even with a new purpose, she was still lonely.

And the fate had it, that Jason Todd was bored.

And with his snarking, teasing uptake on things, drive to danger and the pressing urge to keep his shit under control, in which the current state of mind was not helping - he made her a proposition.

"Hey Y/N, you know what?" he called her casually one day after all the batkids, Jason included, miraculously found themselves in the batcave.

"Not a mind reader" she responded mockingly in a singing tone.

"Good for you" Jason immediately matched her tone "you wouldn't last a minute in my head, sunshine."

"Is that an invitation or a challenge Mr Todd?"

"A challenge. But in a different way than you might think."

"Well then, I;m all ears." she turned to face him, purposefully leaning a bit too close, to take this whole thing up a notch.

"We are both screwed..." he started

"Objection!"

"Overruled." he rolled his eyes "my deal is, since we are both fucked up, we might as well share the mental disease."

"huh?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, not understanding a single word, but fairly convinced that the Lazarus water finally ate his brain out completely.

"You're alone-"

"well thanks for pointing that out, since I had like five minutes of break from thinking about it-"

" -and I'm bored, so how about we keep each other entertained and take each other for a test drive?"

Y/N almost choked with her own saliva, her eyes popping out as she started caughing looking a freaking frog, even going a little green on the face.

"The hell Jason!?"

"Shit, I swear it sounded better in my head!"

"It should have never left your head!"

"It's not my fault you keep reading into the words too much!"

"I'm a lawyer! The hell were you thinking!?"

"Oh, I;m sorry for believing that under all that all and mighty professional armour you might be a human!"

"You're a freaking hypocrite, you know that?"

Jason sighed in frustration and run hand through his hair.

"Look all I meant was that we fill the gaps we're missing."

"So you'll act like my arm candy and I'll be your personal clown?"

"You don't even have to try much, do you?" he smirked

"I swear one more word out your mouth and the only entertainment you'll get will be a kick in the ass."

"I guess ending in hospital after such attempt would resolve your loneliness problem as well."

"Jerk."

"I'm serious Y/N. What do you have to loose?"

"Dignity, self-integrity, sound mind..." she started counting

"ok, okay, fine, I get it!" he raised both hands up, stopping her chant "but - it can also be fun. And if you keep refusing I might think you're chickening out."

"Oh! so it's not a challenge. It's a dare of which one of us will go insane first?"

"Something like that. Scared?"

"huh! you wish! you're the walking dead!"

"So, do we have a deal?"

"Yeah, we have a deal." she smirked and reached her hand towards him.

They shooke them, loooking into each other's eyes, getting mentally prepared for quite a lot of fun, even if neither was willing to say it outloud.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x oc #red hood x oc

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hoes4hoseok · 2 days

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enhypen as the tortured poets department

pairings :: ot7 x gn!reader (if i accidentally slipped in a gender-related mistake please let me know!) genres :: angst & fluff warnings :: swearing, alcohol, mentions of food, sorta emotional cheating, reader being down bad ™️ word count :: 2.1k author’s note :: thanks to ogs @sunoosill and @fandomgirl489 for helping me hehe love you guys! also i kind of tried something new with this one, they're actual little fics this time so let's see how it's recieved 😭 that being said i lowkey hate this. i started doubting all my choices once i was like 60% done but this took an embarrassingly long time. also this is unedited because i'm sick of this draft. i hope y'all enjoy though!

ni-ki as my boy only breaks his favorite toys

“i felt more when we played pretend than with all the kens cause he took my out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts, told me i’m better off, but i’m not”

ni-ki swept 👏 you 👏 off 👏 your 👏 feet 👏 when you first met

because he doesn't seem like he'd necessarily approach a relationship the same way as everyone else just because everyone else is doing it

so when he asked you out he was pretty nonchalant about it (even if that wasn’t how he was feeling)

&& it all felt so romantic because you’d do things like get dessert in the middle of the night & then drive into the hills together

especially because he didn’t treat you the same way as the other people he dated — a fact his friends confirmed.

he was passive about it all before you.

there wouldn’t be any doubt that he loved you because he most certainly did

not to be cliché but he made you see the world differently! & more importantly, he made you see romantic relationships differently

but you could tell that he had a sense of uncertainty around you

not because he was uncertain about his feelings for you

but an uncertainty that told him that he needed to spend each moment like it could be taken away from him in the blink of an eye

he knew he was feeling too much — he knew you were feeling too much

because ultimately, he was unsure about whether he was right for you.

so he left you, promising that you’d be better off without him.

you weren’t.

sunoo as down bad

“for a moment i knew cosmic love, now i’m down bad, crying at the gym”

sunoo would be such a good boyfriend on paper

he'd buy you flowers & give great hugs, of course, but he'd also be supportive & reassure you when you felt insecure and unsure about your place in the world

that being said, sunoo is not one to string people along

so the moment he realized that he wasn’t 100% in, he made a plan to end things & he did.

&&...losing sunoo fucked you up. it would fuck anyone up, to be fair.

finding out that he was leaving you when the relationship was everything to you would catch you off guard, to say the least.

he probably left feeling proud of himself for doing everything right too LMAO 😭

&& yes, i don't think it's anything he did that made it so bad

it's just that break-ups suck & you really loved him! even if he “did everything right”

no matter how it transpired, you were still in shambles at the end

you broke down in tears at the sight of anything that made you think of him

from the smell of gardenias in a grocery store

‘he bought me those 🤧! for our first anniversary 🤧!’

to the most upbeat song you’ve ever heard coming on shuffle while you work out

‘he loved that song’ (even if you couldn’t stand it)

&& you really hoped he was feeling a shred of what you were

but it sure as hell didn’t seem that way.

jungwon as fresh out the slammer

“all those nights, you kept me going, swirled you into all of my poems”

you & jungwon had a lot of your own problems to deal with the first time you dated

likely because he had a lot on his plate at the time as an idol & you were just at different places in your lives

&& even though your brain was telling you not to, you fell in love fast

he’d taken you to a quiet spot in his hometown that he used to go to when he was overwhelmed as a kid

it was an old swingset at the park where, somehow, everything else had been renovated

the two of you sat there for hours with your hands entwined, talking about your futures

&& the possibility of them ending in the same place.

it felt childish & implausible, but you wanted to believe it

&&, as the break up proved to you, it was, in fact, childish & implausible to believe that your lives could magically become compatible

you tried to move on, you really did. you dated other people for years.

one boyfriend stuck around for four years. a coworker. your future with him felt written in stone.

he was good to you, but there was a part of your heart that yearned for more

the part that yearned for the type of connection you had on the swingset all those years ago

you didn't spend that time waiting for jungwon — you accepted that you were going to spend your life content with your boyfriend

but you sometimes thought about what it would be like if you met jungwon under different circumstances or another life where his career wasn’t so controlling and demanding of him

you would smile listening to his music (that you subconsciously hoped was about you)

&& checked how he was doing online periodically

but then you were single. it was something your boyfriend said about not seeing a future here. not seeing a future with you. when you gave him four years of your life.

you knew you should have felt more, that you should have been torn apart for months

but a week later, you picked up the phone & dialed the number that had been seared into your brain for six years

“y/n?”

his voice was almost a whisper.

“do you think you could take me to that park again tonight?”

“i’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

“thank you.”

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“i missed you.”

heeseung as the alchemy

“where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me”

when you started dating heeseung, you knew it would be really easy for him to put you low on his priority list being an idol

&& you wouldn’t have blamed him for that

because your careers are important, especially at this point in your lives (also your exes probably did that with much less demanding jobs)

but he didn’t! he told you it would be tough but that he’d try his best to make sure you had time together even with his insane packed schedule

&& try he did omg 🤭 that man put in the WORK

he would show up towards the end of your workday just to whisk you off on a date 🫶

which you not-so-secretly loved for two reasons:

one: it reminded you that he loved you & valued your career as much as you valued his

two: he’s really hot. so it’s fun to see everyone’s reaction to him showing up heehee

&& after your workday he’d take you wherever you wanted

but you’re indecisive at times, so he’d just guess sometimes.

it was usually your favorite restaurant or a massage parlor, but once he literally took you to the airport for a getaway? who knows what he has planned lmfao

you loved getting surprised by your boyfriend, of course, but the nights when you were at his concert to support him? those meant the world to you.

you swore that you’d never forget the look on his face when he realized you were in the crowd the first time you surprised him

but honestly? his excitement never faltered. he still wears that childish grin every time he sees you showing up for him

&& the post concert kisses are incomparable to all the others

because he kisses you like you’re the stars in a rom-com. every. damn. time — whether it’s backstage or in front of 20,000 people.

jay as chloe or sam or sophia or marcus

“if you want to break my cold, cold heart, just say ‘i loved you the way that you were’”

jay was hurting you

with every instagram post he uploaded with a woman you didn’t recognize,

at every red carpet appearance where he had someone else on his arm,

with every polite smile he greeted you with when you crossed paths.

you broke up with him. years ago, at that. you had no right to feel this way.

his mind seemed scattered in your time together & he was unsure about most everything

at first, it had seemed like you were the exception to that.

until you weren’t.

when you broke it off, you told him you loved him. & that maybe you always would.

he might have loved you.

but if that was the case, he never told you.

on occasion, you thought about how he felt seeing you date around aimlessly.

had he done the mature thing & moved on?

did his jaw clench seeing another man kiss you the same way it did before you dated?

did he care about what you were thinking as much as you did about him?

there were times that you’d stare at his contact, finger hovering above the ‘call’ button

almost hoping your finger would slip so you’d have the chance, the smallest chance to hear him say

“i loved you the way that you were.”

(i really want to write a oneshot about this actually? maybe?)

jake as so high school

“get my car door, isn’t that sweet, then pull me to the backseat, no one’s ever had me, not like you”

jake was so obsessed with you before y’all started dating HEHE probably from the first time that he had a conversation with you!

he was so enthralled by the way you think & see the world

&& he blushed and stumbled on his words every time he talked to you for months & his friends would tease him RELENTLESSLY

he got so nervous before following you on social media that he had to employ his friends to help.

“guys, just press it for me. i can’t look!”

he probably thought about asking you out on many occasions but chickened out for one reason or another every time

but then he saw you at the local convenience store while he was out getting ramen at 2 a.m. — or rather, you saw him.

"jake?" he'd know that voice anywhere. oh god oh god oh god oh god

he needed a moment to compose himself, but he pulled himself together enough to look up at you & greet you properly <3

his stress slipped away fairly fast after that & you found yourselves shopping for your respective midnight snacks together

"have you tried this one? it's probably my favorite limited edition flavor" you had said, pointing to your favorite candy

which, naturally, he responded to by pulling a handful into his basket 😚

you didn't know whether he wanted to try it because you liked it or he was buying it for you, but either way, you found it endearing

after you both paid, jake took your groceries in his other hand, declaring that he'd carry them to your car for you

which, of course, wasn't possible. you had walked.

😧...😟...😶...🤔...☝️😲 "i could give you a ride! i don't want you walking home alone at this hour. or i could call you an uber if you're not comf—"

"i'd really like that"

&& then his heart would damn near explode at the sight of your smile. because how could it not.

he fumbled with the bags before opening the passenger door for you

&& on the drive there he'd stare at you with heart eyes while you talked at every red light

you'd have to tell him it turned green because he was just so distracted hehe

oh my god not this being my second fic about jake driving you home,, 🫣 IT'S FUNNY BECAUSE I DON'T PLAN THESE I JUST GO WITH WHAT FEELS RIGHT

i'm just hilarious, this does not show anything about what i want irl, absolutely nothing.

sunghoon as i look in people’s windows

"what if your eyes looked up & met mine one more time?"

you & sunghoon had a mutual break up, but it didn't feel that way a month after it happened

especially not when you were walking alone down the street his friend lived on & noticed the light shining through the large window

contrary to what you told yourself (i don’t even care if he’s in there) you approached the warm light warily

you didn’t really know whether you were hoping to see him in there, but you did — he was laughing with a few people, glass of wine in hand

&&…you weren’t expecting a flood of memories to overcome you in the way they did.

memories from when you were invited. memories from when you called them “our” friends & not “his” friends. memories from when you were the one making him laugh.

you didn’t notice your mouth fall agape or the tears welling in your eyes until sunghoon met your gaze with a tilt of his head, his smile falling as he registered your presence

for a moment, your mind rushed to decipher the look on his face — the way his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, the way his mouth fell agape too — the same expressions you used to be able to read so well.

finally tearing your gaze from sunghoon, you noticed his friends turning back to look out for whatever it was that made their friend so unsettled

they never saw you. you ran before they could.

perhaps if you had stayed a moment longer, you would have heard the front door open.

txt version ☆ midnights version ☆ masterlist

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underacalicosky · 2 days

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I continue to torture myself with fix-it scenarios where Anakin just can't handle seeing Obi-Wan having an emotional meltdown and gives up the dark side as a result. What if Obi-Wan was a wibbly mess on Mustafar?

“Until now, you’ve become the very thing you swore to destroy.”

“Don’t lecture me, Obi-Wan. I see—“

“Lecture you?!” Obi-Wan snaps suddenly, his voice bellowing. “You think I came here to lecture you?”

His sharp tone makes Anakin take a step back. He sucks in a shaky breath and straightens his posture, refusing to be rattled. As he opens his mouth to respond, Obi-Wan continues interrupting him.

“No, Anakin, I lecture you for staying up too late. For not folding your tunics properly.” His voice gets progressively louder and more impatient. “For not getting enough fiber in your diet! I’m not here to lecture you. I was sent here to kill you!” Obi-Wan yells.

Anakin knows it’s the reason why Obi-Wan is here, but to hear him say the words, with such certainty, makes his heart plummet. He’d hoped, with whatever little hope was left, that he wouldn’t have to fight Obi-Wan. His chest aches, knowing that this is how it must end. But he ignores the weakness that still lives in him and draws on the dark side for strength. The Force ripples around them when he pulls on it.

“And kill the rest of myself along with you,” Obi-Wan says furiously. “Part of me has already died.” He fixes Anakin with an intense stare, a seething fire in his eyes.

Taking another deep breath, Anakin narrows his eyes and returns his glare. He’s never seen Obi-Wan angry like this. It frightens him, but he keeps pacing like he's a caged wild animal because he can’t let it show.

“It died when you knelt in front of a Sith lord and proclaimed him your Master!” Obi-Wan’s face twists with uncontrolled and un-Jedi-like rage. “It died knowing that you would trade me for him. Do I mean that little to you?” he demands, spreading his hands and arms out in front of him. “I poured all of myself into training you and raising you and—”

With matching ferocity, Anakin shakes his head. “This isn’t about you!” Anakin yells, pointing at him.

“Of course it’s about me!” Obi-Wan yells back. “Your mother entrusted you to Qui-Gon and he entrusted you to me. Do you know what it was like everyday being scared out of my mind that I would let them down? That I would let you down?”

This is not Obi-Wan. Anakin was prepared for Obi-Wan to use reason. To remain somewhat collected as he projected his disappointment. Perhaps confronting Anakin with all the ways he’s violated the Jedi code, betrayed the Republic and democracy.

Obi-Wan’s skillfully talked circles around politicians, foreign royalty, the Jedi Council and kept his emotions at bay every time.

But this… Anakin is unprepared for this.

“No,” Anakin says with another shake of his head. “No, I made these choices,” he insists.

“Maybe I should’ve left the Order with you. We would’ve found our own way.” Obi-Wan was lost in his own thoughts, his eyes ticking everywhere at once, unable to focus. “And I wouldn’t have had to train you to be a soldier. Wouldn’t have dragged you through a war. Wouldn’t have let Palpatine near you.”

“I never wanted to be a burden!” Anakin cries.

“You weren’t a burden! You were my brother, Anakin! My greatest joy!” Obi-Wan screams. “What could I have done differently to stop this?” Obi-Wan asks, nearly begging.

With his fists balled at his sides, Anakin holds onto the last vestiges of his resolve. He can’t let Obi-Wan break him.

“We can’t change the past,” Anakin says, his voice hollow.

“Did I not love you enough?” Obi-Wan asks sadly, tears streaming down his face.

Instinctively, Anakin reaches for him through their bond, a habit formed from years of training and bickering and teasing and laughing and to his horror, it recoils and his heart shatters.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Anakin stomps his foot. He can’t have both. He can’t embrace the dark side to exploit its unnatural powers and still expect to find comfort in the golden and pure light that tethers him to Obi-Wan.

Anakin Skywalker has made a lot of choices in the last day. And here, he makes another.

With his head hung, he relaxes his hands and releases. The ground beneath them shakes as the dark, consuming anger bleeds from him.

Again he touches their bond, tenderly. Lovingly. Apologetically.

“I can’t change the past, but help me change the future,” Anakin sobs. “Please. We need to save Padmé. And the baby.”

Finally, Obi-Wan blinks as he snaps out of his trance. His eyes lock on Padme’s unmoving form on the ground and Anakin sees the moment that Obi-Wan realizes his renewed purpose.

“Yes. Get her onto the ship,” Obi-Wan says with the authority of a war General. “I’ll make sure 3PO and Artoo are both accounted for and have them help me find the nearest medical facility,” Obi-Wan says.

“If the Republic finds me… after what I’ve done…”

“Then we need to be careful where we go so they won’t find us,” Obi-Wan tells him and glances at Padmé, then back at Anakin before he boards the ship.

#obikin #obikin fix-it #it's obikin but not obikin #you understand

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marie-swriting · 3 days

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For The Very First Time - Emily Prentiss

Masterlist

Summary : Emily always thought she'd end up with a man, however it's a woman that makes her heart beat faster.

Warnings : set during season 16 (spoiler free), alcohol consumption (be careful with your alcohol consumption!), questioning sexuality, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warning.

Word count : 3.1k

French version (will be published today at 6pm)

Song inspiration : 10x better by Marielle Kraft

Emily Prentiss is nose deep in her Sicarius files. She re-reads every piece of information, searching for a detail she and her team might have missed, in vain. She runs a hand through her grey hair, sighing; she looks once again at the first page when you interrupt her reading.

“Excuse-me, I’ve waited until the last minute but I’m closing now and I’m going to ask you to leave, please.”

“Oh my God, sorry !” Emily apologises while glancing at her watch. “I didn’t see the time. You could have told me earlier, I would have understood.”

“Don’t worry, I had to clean everything behind and I noticed you were busy.” you reassure her with a gentle smile.

“That’s an understatement though it’s not an excuse. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Are you working on something important ?” you ask as she packs her things in her bag.

“You could say that, yes.”

“Where are you working ? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I’m an FBI agent, more specifically I work with the Behavior Analysis Unit.” she informs, standing up.

“I get why you were tearing your hair out then” you joke.

“Stress comes with the job.”

“Not to the point of losing your beautiful hair I hope. I mean, I’ll probably be doing just the same at one point, this job is taking all my energy, though it’s clearly not the same. I’m not afraid of coffee beans.”

“You’ve been working here for a long time?” Emily questions.

“Since the opening, I’m the owner. I used to work in insurance and then, one day, I just decided to stop everything and open the café I had been dreaming of for years.”

“It was a good decision. I like this place a lot.” She sincerely compliments and it warms your heart.

“Thanks.”

“I’m gonna leave you alone. I wouldn’t want to make you work even later. Sorry again.”

“No worries.”

You start taking the coffee cup and the small plate when you hear the doorbell ring. You wait for the door to close when Emily’s voice resonates one last time in the café.

“By the way, I’m Emily.”

“Y/N. Come back whenever you want.”

Emily gives you one last smile before leaving the café. You watch her leave through the window before closing the main door and finishing your cleaning.

After that night, you don’t see Emily for weeks. You live your life as usual but you can’t deny you wish you could see her again. Emily has managed to get in your mind with one single conversation. Therefore, as soon as you end up seeing her again sitting at a table, you can’t help the smile on your face. Emily has at least three files spread in front of her and a pen in her right hand. Like last time, she goes through the different pages, a desperate expression on her face. You serve another client before coming to her.

“It looks like you need another coffee.” you say, making her raise her head.

“I need more than this.”

“Are you getting anywhere?”

“Slowly. Too slow for certain people.” Emily sighs, rubbing her neck.

“I’m sure you’ll find all the clues you need.” you softly tell her and you put your hand on her shoulder, making her heart beat faster. “I’m bringing you this coffee right away.”

Emily doesn’t move until you come back, still in shock because of your touch. Once you’re back, you give her her new cup of coffee and a small plate with a chocolate donut.

“I thought you’d need some sugar, too. It’s on the house.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I want to.”

Before you can add something else, you hear one of your employees calling for you. You smile at Emily then you go see your employee.

Just like last time, all the clients have left, except Emily. And just like last time, you leave her alone whilst you do almost all the cleaning. The second you come back to her, Emily hears your steps and raises her head up before you can talk. She looks at her watch and sighs.

“I didn’t pay attention to the time. Again. Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” you smile, taking her dishes.

“Do you need help?” Emily asks. “It’s the least I could do to thank you for your patience and the donut - it was really good, by the way.”

“Thank you and I only have to wash the floor and your table and I’m done so no need.”

“I insist. Besides, it’ll get my head out of this case.”

“As you wish.”

Emily takes the broom while you wipe the table.

“Do you often work late?” you ask, interrupting Emily in her task.

“More than I’d want to but it’s for a good cause.”

“And isn’t it too complicated with your personal life? I mean, I guess you have a lot of work to do and you have to travel quite regularly.”

“It can be complicated. My ex was also an FBI agent and even if it was nice because he could understand how busy our life could get, we ended up breaking up because of this. He was kind, it just wasn't working. It’s a bit more complicated to have a lasting relationship when there is distance.”

As you understand Emily’s last relationship was with a man, you feel dumb for thinking you could have a chance with her. Though, you quickly remind yourself she could be just as attracted to men as she is to women. However, you have to keep in mind that you might have zero chance with her.

“I get it but for me, it used to work with my ex. We broke up because our relationship had run its course, not because of the distance. I think that with the right person and the right efforts, it can work.” you genuinely admit.

“What’s his job?”

“She is a stewardess.”

Hearing you correcting the pronoun, Emily is embarrassed and yet, a part of her is also… reassured? She’s not sure why.

“Oh, sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“It’s okay.” you promise.

“You haven’t found someone else since?”

“No, I’ve been single for a year now so you can make me work late, I don’t mind.” you laugh.

“I still feel a bit guilty.”

You keep cleaning up as you get to know each other. Rapidly, you start laughing together. Emily is fascinated by you, she hadn’t felt this kind of connection with someone so quickly. She can’t stop asking you questions, she wants to know as much as possible about you. Once the café is completely cleaned, Emily is disappointed. She wishes this moment would never end.

“It was nice talking. We should do this more often.”

“Yeah, we should.”

“Maybe somewhere outside this café. What do you think?”

At your sentence, Emily stops functioning normally. Are you flirting with her? She can’t tell if you are though, she is sure of one thing: she wouldn’t mind it if you do. You give her your phone number, bid her goodbye then you walk to your car while Emily watches you leave, a million emotions running through her body.

As the weeks go by, you meet each other several times. At first, in public, in a park, at the movies, at the restaurant, then, one night, you invited her to finish the evening at your place and you discussed until late in the night.

Emily yearns for those moments with you. She always wants to be with you, listening to your voice, making you laugh. She doesn’t understand what’s happening to her. At first, she just thought she found a rare friendship but the more she thinks about it, the more she wonders if her feelings are only platonics. However, because of her work, she doesn’t have the time to question herself so she just juggles between her professional and personal lives.

You invited Emily over for dinner. Emily is nervous about it though, she’s excited to see you, especially after the stressful day she’s had. She wants to relax and she knows with you, she can.

As you finish making the sauce, Emily knocks on your door. You open it and let her in. Right away, Emily inhales the smell coming from the kitchen.

“Oh my God, it smells so good.” she compliments as her mouth waters.

“Thanks! It’s the last recipe I learned at my cooking class. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Now more than ever!”

You give Emily a big smile before dragging her to the kitchen. As a way to whet her appetite, you make her taste the sauce and Emily thinks she’s never tasted anything better. Your cooking might compete with Rossi’s, though she’d never tell him.

After eating your supper, Emily’s stomach is perfectly full. You finish the evening sitting on the couch, a glass of red wine in your hands. Emily talks about her work and her team. She tells you some anecdotes and it makes you want to meet them even more. They seem to be important for her, to be her family. Whilst Emily is talking, you tenderly admire her as your bodies get closer and closer without both of you noticing.

As soon as she looks up, Emily realises how close your faces are. Despite her, her eyes look at your lips. You see it and smile before breaking the distance a bit more. Emily doesn’t back up. Quite the contrary, she lightly leans in, only leaving a few inches between your lips. You’re about to press your lips on hers when a ringtone breaks the tension. Emily takes a step back and takes her phone, finding a new message indicating that there will be a meeting first thing in the morning with Miss. Davis, the attorney general.

“Nothing bad?” you question, frowning.

“No, just some information for a meeting tomorrow.”

After her sentence, there is a heavy silence between you two. This sudden interruption brought you back to Earth and you don’t know if you should act like nothing happened or try to get closer again. Embarrassed, you clear your throat before replying:

“You should go, then. I feel like you don’t sleep a lot and I wouldn’t want to be the reason why you’ll sleep at work.”

“You’re right. I’m gonna go,” Emily accepts and she stands up from the couch. “I had a great time tonight. We should do this again, at my place. Although, I can’t promise you a diner as good as yours.”

“As long as it’s made with love.”

Upon hearing your last word, Emily doesn’t know what to add. She wonders if your sentence was innocent or if you were implying something. She is an outstanding profiler and yet, you manage to make her lose her composure. And so, she simply says goodbye to you before leaving your apartment.

On the way to her home, Emily can’t help but think back to your evening together and the moment you almost kissed. If her phone hadn’t rang, she could have an even more delicious memory than your food in her head. Before that night, she hadn’t realised how much she wanted your lips. As she thinks more about you, she ends up imagining a future with you where you’d be together and for the first time in her life, she’s not reluctant to it. She’s even delighted about some domestic moments, the same moments she used to get bored of in her previous relationships. She knows with you she won’t get bored. It’s different. What she feels for you, in spite of the fact that she might not fully understand it, already feels easier, more pleasant.

You might be in Emily’s mind more than she’d like to, the fact is, she has a case to solve. Indeed, when Emily is in her office, she’s professional. Sometimes, you find your way to her thoughts however, Emily doesn’t let you distract her. Still, her thoughts become louder and louder and Emily feels like she’ll explode. She needs to talk to someone, even if it’s the last thing she wants to do.

At the end of the day, someone knocks on her office door, getting her out of her head. She invites the person in and Tara appears.

“I wanted to say bye before leaving.”

At her sentence, Emily looks at her watch and discovers it’s almost 8:00 P.M. She sighs before looking up to her colleague.

“Tara, I’d like to talk to you before you leave.”

“Sure. Is it about Sicarius?” Tara wants to know before sitting in front of Emily.

“No, it’s… personal. Rebecca is the first woman you date, right? Before, you only dated men.”

“Yes, I did. Why?”

Tara stares at Emily, confused as Emily searches for her words. Never had Tara seen her in this state.

“How did you understand you wanted to be with Rebecca when…”

“When I had never been attracted to women before?” she finishes with a smile, finally getting where this conversation is leading. “First, now thinking back, I know I’ve been attracted to more women than I thought. As for Rebecca, it was just… natural. We met at a meeting and we clicked instantly. I admit I didn’t understand what was happening to me at first. Suddenly, I found myself wanting with her what I wanted with my exes, the only difference is that this time I found the right person. Why this question? Did you meet someone?”

“You could say that,” Emily admits, avoiding Tara’s gaze. “Nothing is done, but I never felt this before. You know, when I was younger, I did everything to fit with kids my age, even if it meant making stupid mistakes. My relationships never really worked at first so I drafted a list for the ‘perfect man’ and whenever the man I thought I loved didn’t fit those criterias, I’d break up with him. The rare times a man checked the boxes, I would always search for a flaw. I always felt like something wasn’t working. I never knew if it came from them or me but those relationships never worked and those men always seemed more attached to me than I was to them.” Emily confesses, sighing. “The fact is, there was always a problem then I met her. Just like for you and Rebecca, we clicked instantly and it seems natural. I don’t feel like I’m playing a role and the more I think about her, the more I realise she fits everything I want in a relationship, even things I never thought about before. But… I don��t know…,” she says with hesitation, “I never imagined myself with a woman and yet, with her, I wouldn’t mind it. For the first time, I see a relationship with someone and it seems… peaceful. It’s ten times better than I thought. You know what I mean?”

“I totally get it.” Tara confirms with a big smile. “She really caught your eyes, didn’t she?”

“You have no idea. But I don’t know what to do. I know she likes women and I think sometimes she flirts with me but I don’t know.”

“You should talk with her. Trust my experience and update me.”

Emily hasn’t stopped thinking about her conversation with Tara and she rapidly understands she’s right. Thinking back, Emily knows what was missing in every of her relationships: she never liked those men, no matter her efforts to like them. Emily also knows the feelings she has for you are more than real so, she decided to invite you over so you can talk.

Yet, once you’re at her place, Emily can’t bring the topic up. She does everything to avoid it. Emily always struggles to talk about her emotions as she learned dealing with them after the fact. However, once she sees your face brightens while you speak about the new things you want to do at your café, she only wants one thing and it’s to act emotionally and kiss you right now. You keep explaining the last baking recipes you want to add when Emily mutters:

“I want to kiss you so much.”

“What?” you exclaim, furrowing your eyebrows and with an ounce of hope.

“Huh… sorry, that’s not what I meant.” Emily apologises, blushing.

“Oh… okay.” you say before marking a pause and getting closer to her. “If it can make you feel any better, I wouldn’t be against it. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for months.”

“What held you back?”

“I wasn’t sure you were attracted to women.”

“I wasn’t sure about it either then, I met you and everything became clearer.” Emily admits, looking deeply in your eyes. “Since I was a kid, I knew I was different, but still I never understood why. And the minute we met, I understood why. I’m a lesbian and… Oh my God, it feels so good to say it out loud!” She screams, joyful and you lovingly look at her. “ I never thought I could be so at peace with who I am.”

“I get it. Realising who you are is never easy, even less when you realise this at our age but it’s so liberating. I’m happy you accepted yourself,” you state, taking her hand in yours.

“I still have some questions, but I think I’ve done the hardest part.”

“Well, I’d be happy to accompany you on this journey, unless you’d rather do it alone, which I wouldn't mind.”

“Did you forget the part where I want to kiss you?”

“Oh no, I still have it in mind.” you chuckle, “though I also know sometimes we need to be alone to unpack all of this. So, I’d understand if you didn’t want a relationship right away.”

“Quite the contrary, for once, everything is easy and I want you. I’m 100% sure about this and I’m not afraid of committing with you.

Determined, Emily puts her hands on your cheeks and gets closer until her lips touch yours. You smile while kissing her and one of your hands finds its way to her grey hair and the other to her waist. Whilst you keep kissing, Emily’s heart is about to explode in her chest. This kiss is the best one she’s ever had. This kiss is soft and yet, ten times better than all the ones she’s shared before. She could kiss you until she can’t breathe anymore and for the very time in her life, Emily knows she’s found the right person for her. In the end, the idea of the perfect man didn’t exist, simply because it was a woman, because it could never be anyone else but you and you’re ten times better than she imagined.

Masterlist

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hypnoneghoul · 6 hours

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absolution live 2017/2023

here I am with my over 1,5k word autistic ramble about the differences between absolution live from 2017 and 2023. at the end there is an audio file of both versions put together, if anyone would be interested in that. it sound very cool heh

also tags for people who showed interest in this: @forest-rot @ghuleh-recs @counting-eyerolls @ngnt-writes @ghnosis @rain-ghoul-appreciator @sister-rosemary-marie

anyway, under the cut

I will start with an analysis of instruments and players separately, one by one, and then I’ll talk about the whole thing a little bit. Also I’m using only ghoul names in there, but when I’m talking about styles and skills I obviously mean the unmasked folks.

Both in 2017 and 2023 we have Mountain on drums, which gives us a very fun comparison opportunity. In 2017 he goes heavy on the cymbals—according to the original version of the song—but it makes the whole thing a bit too crashy and too clogged. The drums are very widely mixed and set—slightly focused on the left side following the stage layout from then—but I think the cymbals could be a bit quieter in comparison to the actual drums, especially the floor tom. In general we can hear how smaller Mountain’s kit was in 2017. In 2023 the entire drum part is sharper and deeper, more bassy and it’s focused more in the middle. The way it feels to me, in 2017 the drums are the background and in 2023 they are the core. Mountain has better fills in 2023, he obviously got more comfortable just jamming in there and having fun over the years.

Dewdrop on bass in 2017; we can hear (or at least I can) that he is not a bassist. He scrapes his pick on the strings a lot which is connected to him being primarily a guitarist—it’s about the picking hand placement and angle. The bass is pretty quiet and it has overdrive on it. It helps conceal his buzzing a little bit, because it happens a fair amount for Dewdrop. Again—bass is not his main instrument. We can also hear exactly when he slams it, like we know he loves doing. In general sometimes he’s quieter and sometimes he’s louder and it’s mostly caused by his picking; how he angles his hand in certain moments and how much strength he puts into it. At the end he goes absolutely feral. Not surprising.

Rain in 2023 is amazing. He’s very skilled, and it’s a huge shame Ghost doesn’t have any songs that could really allow him to show off. He hit his cue a bit too fast at one point, but it might as well be intentional. He’s so much clearer and cleaner, both due to his skills and the settings. Rain has more drop, he most likely has his bass on a different pickup setup than Dewdrop, plus they used different basses—Rain’s with additional mods. One of those mods is a very heavy bridge—Badass Bass—and I bet we can thank that piece for the sustain and note definition in Rain’s playing. In general it flows more, fits into the whole image better. His changes in volume are controlled, not accidental like it happens for Dewdrop. Rain puts more slides, tiny additions and note changes into his live playing, it makes it a bit more lively to me. He’s put perfectly in the middle, nicely blended with the drums.

Unfortunately there isn’t much I can say about Ifrit, Dewdrop, Aether and Phantom mainly because “Absolution” isn’t really a guitar focused song and so it isn't the best song to compare guitar skills, either. The most interesting part—guitar wise—is the solo and little fills on the rhythm now and then.

Ifrit is very precise, I couldn’t hear any mistakes from him, but also the lead is surprisingly quiet in general. His palm muting is on spot, pull-offs and hammer-ons both in the chorus and the solo are very clean and he is simply a pro, he’s got super skills and I wish we could’ve gotten more (</3). He makes the whole song as lively as his stage personality, it sounds flowy but packed with emotions and still so precise it hurts.

Dewdrop’s sound is way better, though he and Ifrit are close skill wise. The difference between Hagstrom Fantomen and Fender Stratocaster is a big one, the main aspect that we can hear is the sharpness of the former and more grounded sound of the latter. Those two guitars also have a very different pickup arrangements—Dew’s strat has SSS (3x single-coils) pickups and he uses the bridge one (which is a Seymour Duncan Hot Rail), and the Fantomen’s has HH (two humbuckers that can be slip, but as far as I’m aware no ghoul used that feature), also with the bridge one used more frequently. In “Absolution” Dewdrop doesn’t add very much—as he does to some other songs—so it’s pretty much the same as the original version. There are small differences that inherently come with his style and that is what makes his version differ from both Ifrit’s and the album's, but it’s all very slight. Dew also makes a very good use of his pedals, mainly wah—especially at the end.

Aether is a bit off tempo in some parts. He plays well, mostly clean, but we can pick out some slight mistakes—mostly sounds that aren’t supposed to be there. His palm muting is a bit too light. He goes heavy on the pick which makes his part of the solo a bit sharp (especially that he’s playing the higher harmony) and square-ish. The sharpness is, again, something we can partially blame on the Fantomen. Only partially because both Ifrit and Phantom prove that it’s manageable.

Phantom is very clean, he adds a lot of slides which is a feature of his personal style. Said style of his is very lively and fun, to me it sounds and feels like a slinky (don’t laugh at me it’s the autism). He’s more fluid both in the solo and the rest of the song than Aether, but makes one—barely noticeable—mistake in the solo where he misses a note.

Also Phantom and Dewdrop in 2023 are more in sync than Aether and Ifrit in 2017. For whatever reason.

Now keyboard; Zephyr goes absolutely ham on the keys, but it is a piano song so that’s not only understandable, but also desirable, I would say. Key’s are in the right ear with slight migration to the middle when it matters, again according to the stage layout. Their precision and speed and overall skill is insane, the ending when they go wild is the most impressive part, because the song itself doesn’t give many opportunities. If you haven’t seen a video of Zephyr playing that ending you gotta do it now because it really is insane (RIP to that Nord Stage 2 though). The synth fill before the solo in 2017 is played back, in 2023 it’s played live by Cirrus.

In 2023 Cirrus plays the main chorus keyboard part, it can be heard easily on the left side (so once again stage layout accordingly). It’s clean and precise, she’s also very skilled, but unfortunately doesn’t really show off at the end like Zephyr does. Cumulus plays some chords before the solo while Cirrus plays the synth fill.

Vocals are not my thing so I’m only going to say what most of us can hear; Terzo is very nasal, but cleaner, and sings a bit higher. Clear pronunciation, good flow. It’s closest to Tobias’ normal singing voice. Copia is even more nasal, more growly and raspy. They’re both, obviously, in the middle in case of mixing.

Backing vocals in 2017 are all play-back for obvious reasons—pretty simple, taken straight off of the album recording. It’s put on the left, but it could be more favorable in the middle. 2023 is way more spectacular thanks to—mainly—the backing vocals. They are 90% Aurora and Cumulus, with lower levels of Cirrus and barely anything of Swiss. He’s louder by the end. I’m still conflicted about the growls—if it is Swiss or Papa’s play-back—but it’s a great addition that was very mild in 2017’s play-back. The backing vocals are on the sides, accordingly to the stage layout. It all just adds more spice, I adore them.

Sound engineering and mixing is so much better in 2023. We can easily tie it to the budget (though I’d like to “blame” it on Hayden’s part in the engineering, he’s a mastermind, too). The sound is much clearer and fluid than in 2017, it highlights all the instruments perfectly at the same time. Mixing in 2017 is more blunt, it’s a bit duller and some changes in volumes and placements of instruments could—or even should—be made. It doesn’t mean 2017 sucks—far from it—it’s just a technical difference which actually warms my heart if we look at how far has Ghost come. So, once again, considering the budget in 2017 vs. 2023 it’s all understandable. Also the crowd sound control in 2023 is very fun; it makes a great use of all the yelling causing the whole song to sound warmer and fuller.

Both 2017 and 2023 are on the exact same tempo, they can be put over each other perfectly (which I did). They slide apart at the end and the break before the outro is longer in 2023. The 2023 outro itself is pretty boring in comparison to 2017, most likely because in 2023 it’s not a closing song. Below there’s both “Absolutions” over each other; 2023 in the left and 2017 in the right headphone.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #hypnone gear talks #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #ifrit ghoul #aether ghoul #phantom ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iii #zephyr ghoul

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 day

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Dirty Work 53

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I always come back to Loki.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You walk in circles. The day is long but it’s not over. You can’t let it end. Not without having your peace. You won’t make it through another night like the ones before.

The house is eerily calm, even with your house guests. Frigga and Odin are a useful buffer for their son but you can’t run away forever. Or at all.

You refuse to enter the bedroom, paranoid at being locked in again. So you pace the library, trying to dictate a script in your head. You haven’t found the words, you can barely wrangle in your thoughts. All you know is it has to be said. Especially after today.

You hear footsteps in the hall and stop. You listen as Loki goes into the bedroom then comes back out. You go to the door and open it, peering over as he strides out in a panic. You poke your head around and he sees you, giving a start then a sigh.

“There you are, pet,” he touches his chest, “are you coming to bed? It is late. I’m sure my mother has tired you out.”

You shake your head. He tilts his head and furrows his brow. You back up, leaving the door open, and wait. He hesitates but approaches soon after. He stands in the doorway and stares at you. You curl your fingers then stretch them out, shaking your hands as the tension aches in your knuckles.

“What is it?” He sounds just as afraid as before.

You beckon him inside with a small wave. He frowns but obeys, pulling the door shut behind him. You bring your fingers up and twiddle them against your cheeks. It reminds you of another time, when you would stand at the end of the couch, just out of your father’s grasp, and ask him to take his medicine. You were just as frightened then though for a much different consequence.

“You’ve something to say to me,” he states and his shoulders rise, “well, yes, I’m aware a proposal without a ring is hardly proper, but I thought perhaps, pet, we might choose it together. Hm?”

You shake your head and blink, “no.”

“No?” He says, “you don’t want a ring? Or you’d rather shop alone? I suppose I could--”

“No. That’s what I have to say; no.”

You stare at him, locked in anxiety, waiting for his reaction.

“No... what?” He puts his palms out.

“No.”

“No... no.... No?” He echoes over and over, the word starting to sound nonsensical.

“We can’t be married.”

“What?” His voice spikes, “but darling, you said... yes.”

You didn’t.

“No.”

“Yes,” he counters quickly. “Yes, I’ve already told mother we are to marry and you can’t just say... no?”

“No. Not until we talk.”

“We are talking, pet--”

“About Thor--”

“Darling,” he blusters, “we do not need to—we both know what happened. I put a stop to it and it’s all just fine now, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Stop saying that.”

“No.”

“Stop-- okay, darling, what can I do? To make this all better?”

“I want to talk about it,” you insist, your heart flipping.

“About what? What is there to say?”

You lower your head and shrug, then look at him again.

“I don’t know... but... you... brought me there. You knew about him, didn’t you? You had to--”

“I know he and Sif...” he stops, nearly choking as his throat bobs. “That he had some liaison with my ex-wife, yes. I knew that.” He grits his teeth and turns to pace himself, “and she was there so why wasn’t he distracted by her? What must he try to take what is mine?”

“Yours?” You wonder.

He puffs through his nose and stops, twisting on his heel to face you, “my guest. My...plus one.” He lies poorly and his eyes list to one side, “pet, he did not hurt you, I made sure of it--”

“He did,” you insist. “He did hurt me. He held me down and... maybe he didn’t do all he could but it still hurt. It still scared me and then you locked me up. You won’t talk to me and you keep me in a closet. Well, Loki, Mr. Laufeyson, whatever I should call you, I’d rather go back to my father then stay any longer if you won’t.”

You're breathless after the deluge flows from you, feeling a little beter for letting it all out. A little braver.

“Don’t,” he points at you, “do not threaten me. Why would you ever go back to that monster? After all I’ve done--”

“I know all you’ve done. Trust me,” you swallow, “and I know what I’ve done and not done. All I have and don’t have. If I am just a burden for you to pick up, I would rather you toss me away now.”

“Toss you—darling, I’ve only just said I would marry you. I think you are confused.”

“I am,” you say, more terse than you mean to, “because you don’t talk to me.”

He takes a breath and lets it out, his lips thinning. He looks at his feet and his shoulders slump. He crosses his arms and raises his head, “I’m talking right now.”

You poke your tongue into your cheek and consider him, “he hurt you too.”

His eyes flick up to the ceiling and he shrugs.

“I saw it.”

“Yes, he is an animal. But I gave him back all the same,” he says defiantly.

You calmly come forward, jittery as you recall that night. The darkness, the scent of dirt, the twigs poking through your dress, and your whimpers. You stop right before him and bring your hands together in front of you.

“Loki,” you say, “thank you.”

He winces, almost as if he’s been struck again, just like that night he fended off his brother.

“You did save me and I know you didn’t have to. But you also don’t need to lock me up.”

He has the guile to look shameful. He moves his head one way then the other, the lines around his mouth deepening, “yes, I suppose...”

“I’ll stay, okay? But... not like that.”

“Alright,” he agrees rigidly, “I won’t keep you in the bedroom.”

“Or this house--”

“What-- where are you going to go?” He sputters as his green eyes gleam at you.

You inhale carefully and put your hands to his chest. He looks down at them and back to your face, “nowhere unless you mean to keep me a prisoner.”

“You said it yourself though, I protected you--”

“Thor is gone.”

“For now,” he glowers.

You huff and close your eyes. Your drag your hands from his chest and he catches them. Before you can draw away, he pulls you back to him.

“Darling, yes, alright. I hear you. I’ve heard all you have to say. Let us put that night behind us. Please.”

You consider him. It’s a tenuous truce, one you don’t entirely trust, but it’s better than before. It’s as much as you can hope for. He is right after all. You have nothing without him. Even the threat of going back to your father is empty.

“Just... say yes for me. Once,” he pleads. You stare up at him blankly. He fidgets and his cheek dimples, “just once. I need to hear yes. So...”

You watch him as his nostrils flare and his hands tighten around yours.

“Yes, let’s put it away,” you agree, “but I won’t forget.”

He nods and his mouth slants, “mm, when did you get so demanding?”

“I’m... not?” You’re stunned by the accusation. “I wouldn’t--”

“For you, yes, you are. Look at you, yanking me on a chain like a dog,” he winks and smirks, slipping his hands down your arms and embracing you, his grip settling on your hips, “I sort of like it.”

“Um, oh,” you bobble with his change in tone, the wrenching in your chest slowly subsiding.

You expected more than that. Maybe yelling, maybe broken things, and all that. There was a time this man brought you into this very room with a leather strap and made his will known. The memory seems far away now.

“Isn’t it nice to say yes?” He coos.

“I... don’t know.”

“Ask me anything and I will say yes,” his focus centers on your lips.

“I... I’m alright,” you smile tremulously. “I’m tired.”

“Yes, darling, I would be ever so happy to carry you to bed,” he is quick as he has you off your feet before you can unravel his words. “As any good fiance might.”

You brace yourself with a palm on his chest as he cradles you in his arms. His strength always surprises you. He carries you effortlessly and turns to the door, crossing briskly and dipping as he angles you toward it.

“If you would, pet, I seem to have my hands full,” he purrs.

You reach and open the door, upended by how it’s all unfolded. What you dreaded didn’t come. There was no explosion, no shrapnel to pick out, no debris. It’s not over but it’s better than it was. No tears, no shouting, no bruises.

He carries you into the hall and through the bedroom door. He kicks the door shut and marches to the bed. He tosses you onto the mattress and you land with a yelp. You have not time to gain your bearings before he’s on you.

“Darling, you had your moment,” he straddles you and grabs onto your wrists, pinning them beside your head, “I will not hear another no from those lips. Not this night.”

You writhe under him, your insides fluttering as he bends over you, his hot breath cascading over you. As tired as you are, a thrill courses through you. The promise of a release is tempting. All that tension coiled inside you has you bound up in knots.

He leans in and presses his lips to yours. He crushes you under his weight, the mattress compressing beneath you. He is suffocating as he pokes his tongue inside your mouth, humming in delight as he invades. He wiggles his hips against your pelvis and your ribs ache as your breath catches inside.

It isn’t him, it’s someone else, someone bigger. Thor. He’s groping and grabbing at you, laughing at your helpless struggle. You flail beneath him and tears prick.

Your eyes snap open and you nearly bite him. You turn your head away, gasping as you’re caught in a memory. You let out a desperate cry.

“Please, please,” you beg, “I can’t. I can’t...” you gulp and shake your head fervently. “I can’t breathe...”

He relents and sits up, his hair askew as he puffs out. His forehead is lined with worry and his eyes glimmering with shock. He lets go of your wrists and grasps his thighs instead. He stares down at you grimly and carefully climbs off.

“It’s him...” he sits at the foot of the bed with his back to you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, “I didn’t... I don’t want to think of him but...”

“Sleep, pet, you’ve earned it,” he slouches forward and drops his head into his hands. “And I’ve earned all I get in turn.”

You stare at his back. You’re relieved and yet you feel horrible. As much as you want to move on, it’s latched onto you; that fear and that futility. You don’t know that this man or the life ahead of you will ever free you from it.

Loki may have saved you from his brother, but you don’t think he can save you from yourself. You have always, always will be, another burden to bear.

✨

After some time, Loki lays down beside you. Your night is no less restless than the ones before. While you may have said more than you ever thought you could, there’s still so much trapped inside of you. Feelings you don’t really understand.

His snoring calms you enough for your eyes to glaze over in bouts. Between, his warmth enshrines you like the blaze of a furnace and finally grows stolid. You get up, surrendering to your consciousness, and go into the bathroom.

You leave the door open as you fill the tub. You step into the placid water and sink to your shoulders. You lean back, muscles easing as you try to wash away the stain you can’t see. You languish there, letting your eyes roll back as the early din settles over you.

You jerk as suddenly you feel a brush along your hair. You look up as Loki stands above you. You cross your arms over yourself out of instinct and his lips twitch. He doesn’t say a word as he undresses.

You’re silent as he urges you forward and slides in behind you, pulling you over him. He reclines with you in his arms and you feel his heart against your back. You stare at the ceiling as your head rests on his shoulder.

“Mrs. Laufeyson,” he muses, “I like the sound of that better this time.”

You bat your lashes and crane your head awkwardly, trying to see him, “is that... what I’ll be called?”

“Darling, of course,” he chuckles, “what else?”

“Hm,” you chew on the words then mouth them silently; ‘Mrs. Laufeyson’. It sounds... strange.”

“Well I’m afraid it’s the only name I have, pet.”

“It sounds... old.”

“Old?” He utters, “you are an adult, are you not? Thirty-one years on this planet isn’t very much yet enough.”

“Sure, I guess,” you mull, soothed as he brushes his fingertips up and down your stomach.

“Wait...” he drawls thoughtfully, “does Mr. Laufeyson sound old?”

“Well... it suits you better than me.”

“Are you saying I’m old?”

“No, I--” you bite down and your brows nearly meet your hairline, “how old are you?”

“Mmph,” he scoffs, “hardly matters.”

“Shouldn't I know? If we’re too get married.”

“Not much older than you,” he sighs.

“But you are older.”

“Is this important?” He intones.

“I just never thought of it.”

“So don’t,” he says.

“Why not?”

“My, my, aren’t you petulant?” He pinches your side and you yipe, “pet, I almost miss the quiet little thing flitting through my halls...” he flutters his fingers, tickling you until you bubble out a giggle and catch in your hand. “Almost.”

#loki #dark loki #simp loki #that last tag can't be avoided #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #dirty work #series #maid au #au #mcu #marvel #thor #avengers

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fanartlover1234 · 1 day

Text

AMORTENTIA

What happens when a class shows their true feelings.

MATTHEO X Y/N

"Who can tell me about this potion?" The professor spoke as he looked over the class as most looked in the book at the potion.

Granger lifted her arm making Y/ns eyes roll as she sat at the back of the class looking at all the faces of her classmates.

She really only ever cared to know about few of them, being a pureblood and a slytherin ment her friends were choses the minute her birth was announced by the doctors.

"Perhaps, miss Y/n could tell us"

"Nope cant" she said.

Grander spoke when the Professor asked her, after he realised the girl wouldnt speak.

"Very good" the professor spoke, before carrying a bottle to mss Y/n "could you tell us what you smell"

The girl leaned forward inhaling the smoke that came from the bottle.

"I smell ciggarates, rain i guess and i could tell what the third thing is if Mattheo fucking Riddle would stop spraying the whole bottle of his colonge on" she said annoyed as she looked at the boy thay stood next to professor.

"Oh how rich of you" he said.

The girl rolled her eyes.

"I cant quite tell the last thing, but it smells rich and strong and powerful" the girl finished.

"Thank you miss Y/n" the professor said " now could miss Granger tell us the last thing about this potion"

"It smells different to everyone according to who or what they are attracted to" Y/ns face droped when she said those words, her eyes finding Mattheo who already looked at her with a smirk.

The class ended and Y/n was ready to sprint to her room and kill herself right then and there if it wasnt for Mattheo draging her in an empty classroom.

"What the fuck, Riddle" she said annoyed only to be met by his smirk as he put his hands in his pockets.

"So you like me" he said.

"No, i hate you"

"Not what the potion said" he claimed, steping closer to her, her nacl hitting on of the tables.

"Well the potion is wrong" the girl said trying to push away but he lifted her on the table, his hands strong yet gentle on her thighs.

"You dont have to deny it, i smelled your fucking perfume all the fucking time in thay class" he whispered.

His hand went under her skirt griping her hip while his thumb pressed on her clit over her panties.

"You say you hate me yet you are dripping" he said to her, his thumb teasing her while she tried to close her legs " dont close them"

He pulled down her panties, lifting up her skirt before taking out a pen.

'Mattheo Riddle" he wrote righy above her clit before he took out his wand and placed a spell on it.

"You want that off, come find me" he said fixing her skirt and walkinh to the door.

"Wait. My panties" she said.

He placed them in his bag " come get them later"

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle #hp x reader #harry potter #slytherin #amortentia

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daistea · 1 day

Text

"𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜" - 𝙼𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

“Many think that the captain makes an effort to hide his emotions. He doesn’t. He’s an open book. It’s simply a very blank book, is all. There’s not much there to read.”

You knew what Cithis was getting at. You also knew there was more to read than what she thought, because Mithrun was your friend and you adored him and wanted to kiss his face with your face. Still, accepting that remained quite difficult.

(Learning a new language is always hard at first)

gn reader, implied to be a short lived race

5,000+ words :o

tw: minor description of violence and blood

Post-canon Mithrun, could be considered spoilers

An ink black eye flickered up and landed on your face. You knew it was there. You always knew when it was there. The light shiver that ran down your back was like a cold finger languidly tracing every bump of your spine.

You didn’t know whether you liked it or not.

But you accepted it, for the most part.

Mithrun’s gaze was devoid of light as you met it. It was only natural for his prosthetic eye to be glassy and lacking in life. Yet, his remaining eye was like that as well. Fleki liked to joke that the captain had ‘dead fish eyes’ and you could see what she meant sometimes. Most of the time, though, you considered his gaze to be more like an endless pit. An endless pit that you were always on the verge of falling into.

But you managed to keep your balance— for the most part.

It didn’t help that Mithrun stared. He stared, and stared, and stared. If you were in an especially combative mood, you’d meet his gaze and stare back. His good eye would start to flicker a little, like when a cat slowly shuts its eyes. You once heard that cats slow blink to signify that they love you. But Mithrun wasn’t a cat. He was an elf. An elf who had a habit of trying to consume you with his gaze alone.

It was one of the days when you couldn’t help but return his look. You glanced up from your plate of food, fork in your left hand and your other hand fiddling with a napkin. Ever since the dungeon, Mithrun had become more physically expressive. He had his elbow on the table and his cheek resting in his palm. As his sleeve fell down his forearm ever so slightly, you could see a hint of a pale scar.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” You couldn’t help but ask. The words were out of your mouth before you could stop to think about the consequences or implications.

Mithrun only blinked. A slow blink.

“No,” he answered simply. His voice wasn’t what one would call particularly deep or rumbling, but it was scratchy. When you heard him speak for the first time, you wondered if he had ever drank a glass of water in his life.

And the lack of inflection in his tone was something you eventually got used to. With a sharp ear, you could pick up the lilts at the end of his sentences when he asked a question. You recognized when he was annoyed, when the growl in his throat got more pronounced. You knew when he was sad, when emotion thickened every word. It was all subtle, learned. And you were good at learning.

For the most part.

“I don’t mean physically,” you replied, returning your attention to the food on your plate.

“Then?”

“I mean—” What did you mean? You weren’t quite sure. You were sure of the fact that you didn’t want this particular vegetable as part of your lunch. So you lifted your plate and absently scraped it off onto Mithrun’s. He didn’t react.

He did, though, slightly raise his brow. He shifted to sit up a little, moving his palm to his chin instead, eyes still lingering on you like petrichor after a rain shower. The slight tilt of his head told you that he was expecting an answer.

You forced the words to the tip of your tongue. It was rare for you to keep your thoughts to yourself, especially around Mithrun. As unreadable as he could be, the assurance that it was difficult to genuinely offend him was comforting. Except, this instance was different. If you openly acknowledged his habit of staring, that was too close for comfort to a much bigger acknowledgement. Mithrun’s heart, and yours, were closely guarded, surrounded by layers of walls. He’d knocked down a few of yours. You’ve knocked down several of his. But going any further was risky, at least in your opinion. The walls were bigger and more well guarded and seizing them might not produce anything good, anything worthwhile.

But his head was tilted and he was watching you. You felt as if you were on a stage with a spotlight shining down on you.

Might as well get it over with.

“Staring,” you said, “don’t you ever get tired of staring?”

His good eye blinked. You’ve seen Mithrun surprised or shocked before, and you knew he wasn’t. Then, that meant he was expecting that question. He was aware of his staring and was doing it on purpose.

“No, I don’t get tired of it,” Mithrun said as he sat up straight, elbow slipping off the table. He grabbed his fork and began poking at the food you had scraped off onto his plate. Peeking just barely through his hair were the chewed, jagged tips of his ears. They flickered. Elves really couldn’t hide their emotions well, their ears tended to give them away.

The fact that he was feeling anything made your heart flutter. If only you knew what it was. It couldn’t be embarrassment or shame, those didn’t exist within Mithrun. Then what? What else could someone be feeling when called out for their habit of excessive staring?

“I mean, I’d just like to know why,” you said without thinking, again. It was rare for either of you to feel as if you needed to fill the comfortable silence you often shared, but at that moment in particular your heart was clenching and something unpleasant passed through your abdomen. The question had crawled up your throat and slipped out of your mouth.

“Why I stare at you?” He asked. You were seventy five percent sure it was a question. But sometimes, Mithrun would simply state something, not asking at all, just echoing. You could usually tell the difference in the lift of his voice. Subtle, but there.

“Yeah,” you met his gaze. Ink black. You started to teeter on the edge of the dark pit again. “Do you stare at everybody like that?”

“Do you ever see me staring at other people like this?”

No. And Mithrun knew that you didn’t. The question was hypothetical, designed to draw the answer out of you.

You felt your jaw tighten as you stared down at your food. You’d missed something, a little morsel of a vegetable you didn’t like. You promptly scraped it off onto Mithrun’s plate before answering him. “I guess I don’t.”

“And?”

Fire flickered to life inside your chest. “And what?” You snapped your gaze back to his, “What do you want?”

His brow raised, “You’re the one who wanted something.”

“I want to know why you’re always staring!”

“Why do you think?”

You couldn’t help but groan, burying your face in your hand, “Mithrun, please just give me a straight answer. I can’t handle this right now.”

“Why not?”

Glancing up, you saw the corner of his mouth twitch ever so slightly. His ears flickered again. Was he enjoying this? As much as he could enjoy something, at least, which was more than before the dungeon.

That fire within you only grew taller and hotter and more destructive. The flames warmed your heart but also threatened to burn through your bones and muscles and ligaments and consume your body entirely. You didn’t know whether you wanted to smack Mithrun over the head, or grab the collar of his shirt and pull him close for a kiss.

Or both? Both were good.

You managed to resist the urge growing beneath your skin and instead shot him a weak glare, “Because— Because you’re not eating and it’s weird for me to be the only one eating right now, especially with you staring at me, watching me chew.”

Half true.

Mithrun’s nose wrinkled a little in thought. Slowly, he grabbed his fork and speared one of the unwanted vegetables you’d given him, finally eating. Relief flooded your body, until his gaze flickered back up to your face once more.

“Happy?” He asked before swallowing.

“Never,” you snarked back, “you’re still staring. Why?”

Did you want to know?

Another wall was crumbling and you were doing all you could to keep it from crushing you beneath bricks and emotions and emotional bricks. It was a mistake to ask that question, to even bring this subject up. You couldn’t go that far. You shouldn’t knock down those walls. You wouldn’t acknowledge the terrifying, unknown thing that had been growing between you and Mithrun ever since he’d decided to live.

You remembered that day. Celebrations surrounded you. Mithrun’s hand clenched the grass beneath him, the only betrayal of his feelings at the time. His knuckles turned white, but he finally let go as the realization, the emptiness, settled in; acceptance of the fact that he had nothing to live for anymore.

You remembered the relief when it all changed, when the listlessness disappeared. You remembered Senshi’s words. You remembered the sting of hot tears in the corners of your eyes as Mithrun smiled for the first time in forever.

It was a secret tucked inside your chest, kept close, chained up. But at night, when you stared at the ceiling with bright eyes and racing thoughts, you let the secret out just a little bit. You loved the captain like a desert dweller loved an oasis. You loved the captain like flowers loved rain. You loved the captain like—

“I can’t not stare at you,” Mithrun’s voice interrupted your thoughts. You crashed back down to Melini, to the restaurant and to him, shattering on the floor and making a complete mess.

“What?” Your voice was just as scratchy as his now. You grabbed your sweating glass of water and gulped it down.

Mithrun waited for you to finish before he continued, “I can’t not stare at you. It’s simply what I do. What I want.”

And he wanted so little.

The wall crumbled, and you internally cursed yourself before returning Mithrun’s gaze. “You don’t want that.”

“I want that.”

Was this really happening? Years of longing, of denial, of fear, all built up into one moment. And the moment was taking place in a dingy restaurant where you and Mithrun were surrounded by chattering people and the scrape of utensils on plates. Nearby, someone laughed. But it was as if cotton had been stuffed into your ears, your focus entirely on the elf sitting across from you— and his dead fish stare.

You began to consider your possibilities:

Option 1: Kiss him.

Option 2: Fake a heart attack to get out of this.

Option 3: Explain your fears about starting an official relationship with him.

Option two looked best.

You put a hand to your chest and coughed a little, “I-I think I’m—”

Mithrun rolled his good eye and stood up. The legs of his chair scraped across the ground as he loomed over the table, looking down at you. “Let’s go already, we have work to do.”

You scoffed, “I’m kind of busy having a heart attack here.”

“The heart attack excuse didn’t work when you wanted to get out of that dinner with the Canaries, and it won’t work now.”

He was right. He was always right. You hated that.

You stood up as well. Mithrun went to the front of the restaurant to pay. People used to cast him curious glances as he passed by, but very few did that anymore. The locals of Melini knew who Mithrun was and were generally used to his presence. Plus, the kingdom had become a melting pot of different races and cultures as of late. Seeing an elf wasn’t too surprising these days.

You watched the back of his head. He had a curl there. He’d always had that curl. Something in the back of your mind desperately urged you to wrap it around your finger.

Mithrun cast you a flat glance as he made for the front door. “Are you going to just stand there? Or are you coming?”

Your frown covered up the flutter of your heart. You followed, silent, grumpy, your right hand itching to take his left.

And as you followed him into the street, you noticed, just for half a second, that his fingers flexed, then curled into a fist before releasing.

This was bad. How could the people of Melini happily go about their lives as your world started to shift? How was the sun still shining? Why didn’t time stop for you as the growing thing between you and Mithrun got too large to ignore?

(Perhaps you were being too dramatic.)

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

The captain did not only stare. He touched.

It was weird, really, because he didn’t enjoy being touched. Mithrun would prefer to keep his personal space, you knew. The Canaries often invaded it and he said nothing to stop them, but you saw the twitch of his ear, the slight narrowing of his good eye. Lately, since he’d been learning how to be more expressive, he would sigh. It was that kind of sigh that told the listener precisely what he wanted, the kind of sigh that spoke a thousand words his lips refused to say. Those thousands of words usually consisted of ‘get away from me’ or ‘stop touching me.’

He never sighed with you.

But perhaps that was because you knew better than to invade his personal space. He had no qualms invading yours. He touched you. Often. At first, you noticed it too much. The feeling of Mithrun’s hand on the small of your back made your mind race with questions. Eventually, you got used to it and hardly noticed it anymore.

But that hyper awareness had returned since the staring conversation.

And also since the staring conversation, he touched you more than ever before.

Mithrun’s long fingers wrapped around your wrist. They were always cold, for some reason. He held up your wrist between your bodies, but he wasn’t looking at you. His attention was on something rustling through the forest. His other hand leaned against the rough bark of a tree. There was absolutely no reason for Mithrun to be holding your wrist right now, but you had a feeling he didn’t even notice what he was doing.

“Quiet,” he said in a low tone, casting you a glance, “there’s someone up ahead.”

“Someone?” You asked, “Not something?”

“Yes. Someone.”

Melini had many types of people. Most of them were good, interested in the future of the nation. Yet the existence of an entirely new country caught the attention of other types of people. The laws weren’t yet established, Laois didn’t really care about imposing taxes, and homes were still being built. While it had settled down as of late, criminals still flocked to the area.

Mithrun cast you another glance. His good eye, black, flickered up and down your body. The look only lasted for half a second, but it still made heat flare up in your abdomen.

“Stay here,” he commanded.

The heat disappeared as you sent him an incredulous stare, “Excuse me?”

“Stay here,” he echoed.

“No,” the argument escaped your lips quickly and harshly, “I’m going with you. There could be any number of people out here and I won’t let you face them alone.”

His eye narrowed slightly as he turned to fully face you, “There’s a chance I won’t even be fighting. They could simply be hikers.”

“Don’t lie to me, I know when you’re on edge.”

Another narrowed eye, another flicker of his ears. The chewed tips slowly lowered, pressing back against his head, barely visible through wavy locks of silver. You’ve always thought that when elves did that, they looked quite aerodynamic.

“Fine,” his voice was flatter than usual, “but stay close to me. I won’t allow you to be hurt.”

Mithrun released your wrist, but his fingers deftly slid down your skin, across your palm. A shiver ran through you as he tangled your fingers together. They were puzzle pieces fitting perfectly, created specifically to hold each other.

And Mithrun didn’t seem the slightest bit affected by the fact that he was now holding your hand. He simply turned and began trudging through the foliage of the forest, gently pulling you behind him. Did he have any idea what he’d done? Did his sharpened elf hearing notice the pumping of your heart? Would he even acknowledge it?

He held your hand tight, as if afraid you would slip away.

“They know we see them,” Mithrun murmured. Tension filled the air and threatened to suffocate you. It was the feeling of danger, and a tingling through your limbs that made your hairs stand to attention.

He pushed aside a thorn bush, not caring when the sharp tips pricked his skin or when they clung to his clothes like childish hands trying to desperately keep him from leaving. He slowed down a little so you could navigate the bushes more carefully. His fingers slipped away from yours, but he kept your hand, holding it up like a gentleman helping a lady out of a carriage.

The moment you escaped the bush, he interlocked your fingers once more.

Your mind raced as you followed him. Why was Mithrun holding your hand? What did it mean? Was he trying to acknowledge your relationship? Impossible. That was impossible. Mithrun surely didn’t want a relationship with you. There was something between you two, obviously, but it wasn’t anything either of you were ever going to do anything about. At least you thought as much. His desires weren’t just going to randomly appear again. And surely you weren’t special enough to cultivate anything new within him. No, Mithrun was just being—

The taut pull of a bow string filled the air. It happened too quickly. The whish of an arrow cutting through the atmosphere— it sliced the tension in half so smoothly, like butter. You only caught a glimpse of it as it came straight for your chest.

But it never hit you. You’d closed your eyes without realizing, but when you recognized an utter lack of pain, your eyes shot open to inspect the situation.

Mithrun still held your hand. Tight. A little too tight. You could see his jawline clenched, his ears pushed back. In front of you, only inches away from your chest, was the arrow. He’d caught it mid air. His hand was wrapped around the shaft and his knuckles were white as he gripped it.

Your heart didn’t just skip. It flipped, did an entire gymnastics routine, then promptly flopped onto the floor and passed out.

There were wasps in your stomach. Not butterflies. Wasps.

And Mithrun was angry. His chest rose and fell before he slipped his hand away from yours. You only caught a glimpse of his face as he turned away, but you could see the flicker of silver consuming the black; the crackle of a flame, the flip of a switch, a lightning strike in the distance.

He reared his arm back and promptly launched the arrow at something between the trees. A guttural noise erupted. It was thick with something, pain or blood or shock or fear. A tall-man stumbled out of hiding with the arrow lodged in the front of his neck, then he collapsed face down in the grass.

Silence.

Mithrun lowered his arm and stood up straight, staring at the body.

Your throat was strangled, but you managed to push the question out nonetheless. “Did you just… throw a goddamn arrow so hard that it went through a man’s neck?”

“Hm?” Mithrun sent you a glance, his eye widening just the slightest bit. But it returned to the black pit that you were seconds away from falling into. “Oh, yeah, I did.”

“Just now,” you pointed at the literal corpse laying in front of you, “you killed him.”

His brows furrowed, “Obviously.”

“Why?”

“He was going to kill you,” Mithrun looked at you as if the answer was clear and he was genuinely confused at your bewilderment. He lifted his hand, the left one, and held it out for you expectantly.

While your mind raced with questions and horror and a bit of admiration, you placed your hand in his. The air smelled like blood, metallic. Mithrun told you that he wouldn’t allow you to get hurt. He meant it. It felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of your lungs.

Maintaining eye contact, he leaned forward, pressing his dry lips to your knuckles. The forest, the chirping of birds, even the warmth of the sun overhead, faded into the background. All you knew at that moment were his cold fingers holding yours, the feeling of his lips on your skin, the lingering look he was giving you.

Damn.

His expression wasn’t blank this time. His good eye wasn’t lifeless. He looked at you through his lashes, his gaze glued to your face. Or perhaps not glued, but rather welded. He didn’t smile, he didn’t blush. But the intent was clear. His lips gently brushed across your knuckles for precisely four seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Your heart started to do its gymnastics routine again.

You could’ve lived beneath the spotlight of his gaze forever.

Yet soon enough, he dropped your hand and turned away. The tension dissipated like mist as he began walking, casually stepping over the corpse. “Let’s go. There’s been reports of a cockatrice nearby.”

Right. Monsters. Work.

You looked at the corpse and the blood soaking into the soft earth, drying to a darker color on the leaves and grass. You should’ve been horrified, but…

The fact that Mithrun was willing to kill for you only made you burn. Your knees were weak.

This was a desperate situation. This was a confusing situation. This was the kind of situation that required an expert.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

“Are you stupid?” Cithis asked.

Perhaps. You weren’t quite sure anymore.

You held a coffee mug tightly, wrapping both hands around it as you sent Cithis a pleading look. She returned your expression with something like boredom and disinterest. White braided hair fell over her bare shoulder. She sat across from you with one knee over the other and her hands politely clasped in her lap. While this elf woman was the picture of elegance, you knew what she really was. You knew how she could be.

Which was precisely why you’d come to her.

“I don’t understand,” you began explaining, feeling a ramble coming on, “he stares at me. He holds my hand. He gets furious if someone tries to hurt me. He looks at me sometimes with this face that almost makes me think he wants me. He—”

“I think you’re stupid,” Cithis interrupted casually, “Or in denial. You know precisely how the captain feels. Admit it already and stop wasting everybody’s time.”

You couldn’t help but scowl, “I don’t want to admit it.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” the words got caught in your throat and you had to forcefully shove them up and outwards, “Because it freaks me out. I don’t want to ruin the comfort between us. I don’t want Mithrun to one day get tired of me. I don’t want to… to die and leave him behind. He deserves better than that.”

Cithis only tilted her head, “Don’t you think he deserves to get what he wants? How often does the captain want something?”

Rarely. And you held the firm belief that when Mithrun wanted something, the world should bend its knee to meet that desire. Yet, this was different. Did he want you? Why? How? How can you be sure? Cithis seemed sure. How? Why?

Her stare was unamused. She looked at you as if you were a dead fly that landed in her food.

“I guess I just don’t want to assume,” you finally said with a heavy exhale.

“There’s no assumptions to be made here. He wants you. Everybody knows it.”

Your head shot up, “What?”

“Everybody knows it,” her eyes narrowed.

Nonsense. That couldn’t be true. You scoffed, “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Listen,” Cithis leaned forward in her chair, pinning you in place with topaz yellow eyes— or piss yellow, how you described her eyes usually changed depending on your mood. “Many think that the captain makes an effort to hide his emotions. He doesn’t. He’s an open book. It’s simply a very blank book, is all. There’s not much there to read.”

You shot Cithis a dark look. Her lips twitched into a smile that held not even a hint of humor.

“I’m aware,” you said, “however, that doesn’t mean I understand. Does he even know how to flirt? Does he know how a relationship would work with him in this state? Do I know how a relationship would work between us? Does he have any desire to be, you know, intimate? Does he—”

Cithis interrupted, “Honestly, I believe the captain would burn down the world just to keep you warm. But that’s just my observation.”

What?

“What?”

“Idiot,” she huffed, “he touches you every chance he gets as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t have his hands on you in some way. He stares at you like you’re a damn masterpiece—”

“He stares at me rather blankly, actually.”

“But he’s still staring.”

“Maybe I’ve always got food in my teeth or something on my face.”

“You know I don’t really enjoy doing this.” Cithis leaned back in her chair and twirled a lock of hair around her finger. Her piss yellow eyes narrowed, “It’s much more interesting to watch you and the captain silently orbit each other than it is to so dramatically reveal his feelings. Yet, I think it’s time you stop being foolish and give him what he wants. He’s developed this odd love language for you and I think you should start learning it.”

She was right. You hated it when Cithis was right.

But that was why you’d consulted her in the first place, because you knew she’d be right. Still, how annoying.

“Okay,” you threw your hands up, “What do I do? What’s the next step?”

She smiled softly, but her furrowed brows and pitying eyes made it clear that she was condescending you. You were a child trying to ask her why the sky was blue.

“Kiss him, obviously.”

Kiss him. Just kiss him. How simple. How elementary. The idea of kissing him definitely didn’t fill you with stinging wasps or anything.

All you could do was close your eyes to block out the sight of Cithis’s condescension. “Yeah. Kiss him. That’s– Yeah.”

“Now go,” she waved a dismissive, elegant hand, “off with you.”

Whatever. You shot her a glare before setting the warm coffee mug on the table in front of her. You’d been gripping it like a lifeline, and you hoped it left a ring on her nice table. Her lips parted in silent offense at the tiny act of revenge.

You left Cithis’s home. Were you assured? Yes. Were you going to kiss Mithrun? Probably not.

There was still so much to sort through, still so many concerns. Mithrun wanted you and, apparently, everybody knew it. He hadn’t even been trying to hide his feelings all this time. You accepted his staring and his touching and his willingness to do anything you asked as simple friendship.

Maybe you should kiss him.

Maybe you should—

“What’re you doing?”

A shout ripped from your throat. You couldn’t control yourself, you stumbled backward, putting up your hands as your heart jumped and your stomach churned. You knew who it was that had snuck up on you. He did this all the time.

“Mithrun,” you hissed, “stop teleporting to me, you know it drives me up a wall!”

Mithrun’s nose twitched ever so slightly. He was considering your words, just a little. Then he shook his head, “No. I don’t think I’ll stop.”

Right. Okay. So, he wasn’t willing to do anything you asked of him. Again, you could only wonder if he enjoyed this. Did Mithrun like getting on your nerves?

You two were standing outside of Cithis’s little house. She should’ve been in jail, really, but she and the other Canaries had been pardoned, sort of. It was really more like a house arrest. You knew that Cithis didn’t care enough to watch you and Mithrun out her window, but it was still unnerving to be so near her, knowing what she knew.

Now, you were the one grabbing him. You took his wrist, gently pulling him down the road. “Come on, we need to talk,” you said.

Mithrun’s good eye widened just a little as you led him through the streets of Melini. It was more crowded than usual. Merchants called out to passersby and people laughed and talked and lived their own little lives. And this was your life, now, pulling the man you adored through a crowd in a desperate attempt to find a quiet, private spot.

You still hadn’t decided whether or not to kiss him.

There was an alley nearby. It seemed relatively clean. You and Mithrun entered the alley and walked around the corner of a stone building before you released his wrist. Yet, immediately, he took your hand, unwilling to allow even a second of no contact between your bodies.

The words came flowing out of your mouth as if a dam had broken within you. “Your love language, I’m learning it.”

He only blinked, “What?”

“Physical touch,” you raised your other hand, wrapping it around his, “quality time,” you met his eye and considered the possibility of drifting in black ink forever, “acts of service.”

He blinked once more. “Oh. I see.”

Your brows furrowed, “Why were you near Cithis’s house anyway?”

“I was simply passing by when I saw you.”

“And your first response was to teleport to my side?”

His head tilted slightly, “Yes. It was.”

“Why?”

Now it was his turn to furrow his brows, “Why not? It’s what I wanted to do, so I did it.”

“And the staring,” you murmured, breathless, “the hand holding, the lingering touches… That’s what you want as well?”

You didn’t expect Mithrun to react strongly to this conversation, and his reaction fulfilled your expectations. He remained calm, but his gaze lingered strongly on yours. His other hand slowly raised and he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing soft circles onto your skin. You couldn’t help but lean into the touch.

“Yes,” he answered, voice as scratchy and tired and level as ever, “that’s what I want.”

“Why?”

His composure broke just slightly. His eye narrowed and his lips quirked into a little frown. “Why wouldn’t I want to touch and stare at my partner?”

…What?

“Excuse me?” Your tone was thick with disbelief as your heart began to do flips. “Your partner?”

“Yes?” His brows furrowed and he blinked a few times as if confused, “My partner.”

“...Me?”

“Yeah.”

“But—” it was as if someone had punched you in the lungs, “Me?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m your partner?”

A sigh as he closed his eyes. “Yes. You’re my partner. You have been for the last year.”

“...Huh?”

His eyes opened to pin you in place, “Were you not aware that we’ve been dating for this long?”

“No!” You couldn’t help yell, “I wasn’t aware! I thought we were just good friends!”

Mithrun said your name, tilting his head with a hint of a smile on his lips. He was amused. How rare. You only wish it wasn’t at your expense. “I wouldn’t do these things with just a good friend.”

Alright. Cithis was right in calling you an idiot.

You felt like you were about to explode. You weren’t sure if that explosion would be from anger, embarrassment, or adoration. All three? You were going to self combust, then your flesh would fly everywhere and get on the walls and cause this huge, bloody mess. All that would be left of you were chunks. But if that happened, Mithrun wouldn’t be able to hold your hand anymore. He wouldn’t be able to stare. You weren’t about to take that away from him. The world needed to kneel and deliver him whatever he desired on a silver platter and you were not about to stop that from happening just because you exploded.

“I am in love with you,” you said matter-of-factly. It was pure word vomit.

“Yeah,” he remained calm, “I know.”

He knew. Of course he knew. You wanted so badly to smack him over the head.

“If you knew…” your voice was strangled as you resisted every urge to scream, “then why haven’t you ever kissed me?”

Mithrun shrugged. He shrugged.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes!” You snapped.

“Alright.” He released your hand, then grabbed your face and gently pulled you closer. His lips met yours. You wanted to melt. You were basically a popsicle on a hot summer day, then. And you had no clue what to do with your hands.

The kiss was… chaste. And soft. You weren’t quite sure what you expected. Certainly not passion, not from Mithrun. But chaste? That wasn’t right either. It was kind of… laid back, as if he’d kissed you a million times before and this was just another to add to the pile.

That wouldn’t do.

You figured out what to do with your hands. One gripped the front of his shirt, balling your fingers up in the fabric. The other stretched around his neck and tangled into his hair. He made a small noise of surprise. Satisfaction flickered through your chest. Gently, but firmly, you pulled him closer to you. Your back hit the stone wall. Your chests brushed against each other. His left hand dropped from your cheek and found your waist as he dug his fingers in and suddenly yanked your body against his.

There. That was better.

Slowly, Mithrun deepened the kiss, tilting his head. His hand slid away from your cheek and found a resting place on the back of your neck. You were both breathing through your noses as you kissed and kissed and kissed and kissed.

Heat began to build up in your abdomen. Your entire body tingled. He pushed you further against the wall and let out a soft exhale before introducing a soft bite on your lower lip. Another flash of heat wracked you, leaving you breathless.

Finally, the need for oxygen dominated and Mithrun pulled back, but only a few inches. He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, letting out an exhale.

“I think… I like that,” he murmured, “We should do more of it.”

All you could do was nod weakly.

“Right. More,” you leaned in, pressing your lips against his, and it started all over again.

One might call it a new beginning. In reality, it was a continuation of what always was. You set aside your endless questions and kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him some more.

You’d officially fallen off the edge. No more teetering, no more balance. You were gone, and you’d never hit the ground.

#ehehe #I take requests btw #rubs my dirty little raccoon hands together #will I ever write for another character? perhaps #x reader #reader insert #mithrun x reader #mithrun #mithrun of the house of kerensil #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #delicious in dungeon #my writing #writing #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #gn reader

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