#but main point is that he can be out in daylight just fine !! maybe a bit of discomfort bc he IS pale and doesnt drink enough | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

devildomditzy · 10 months

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“Are you sure this will work?”

“Cmoooon, it’s foolproof! When have I ever let ya down?”

You raise your eyebrows at him, giving him a pointed look.

“Okay, I let ya down one time.”

You raise your eyebrows higher.

“Alright, alright! A couple of times. But this time I’ve got it locked down, I promise!”

You look away from him, a bit peeved he was making you the ‘main component’ to his next ‘big scheme’.

Try as you might, you can’t say no to him. This little bastards got you wrapped around his finger.

He gives you that look. You know the one. The one that always lets him get his way. The one that instantly makes you fold.

You let out a defeated sigh, “Okay, fine. I’ll do it.”

“Yes!”, he cheers as you watch him bounce excitedly around the room, quickly starting to toss various things aside on his messy floor seemingly looking for supplies? of some kind?

When he turns back to you, he’s got new ambition in his eyes.

“Right, step number one, we gotta get Asmo to getcha all dolled up.”

He gives what you can only describe as an evil little chuckle as he grabs your wrist and pulls you along towards the avatar of lust’s room.

“Hiiii”, Asmo sings as he opens the door to greet you. “I’m guessing you couldn’t say no to him again?”

You give Asmo a defeated, but annoyed look that says ‘don’t even start’.

He defensively throws up his hands. “Ooo, didn’t mean to touch a nerve there, hon!”

“Yeah yeah, their nerves are touched or whatever ya just said.” Mammon essentially pushes you into Asmo’s arms, cause you to indignantly huff at him. “Just hop to it, woula ya? We’re burnin’ daylight here!”

“Now now Mammon, is that anyway to talk to your lovely partner?”

“P-partner!? Whaddya mean partner? They’re just some stupid-“

Your deadly glare cuts him off completely.

“S-stupidly amazin’! Great human! So perfect! Did I mention you were amazin’?”

“Mammon?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s fair.”

The second born leaves you in the hands of the fifth as he promptly fucks off to who knows where to gather who knows what for this “plan”.

Asmo practically shoves you down into his vanity chair, eyes sparkling with delight as he looks you over, hand grabbing your jaw and titling your head side to side as if appraising a jewel.

“Now, tell me. What did you get yourself into this time, love?”

“Ugh, I agreed to help with another one of his stupid “money making” ideas… if you can even call stealing from unsuspecting drunks an idea.”

“So you’re going to be robbing people?”

“Yes? No? I don’t know. I’m just the distraction. The ‘eye candy’ he said. While I’m busy chatting up whoever, he’s gonna swipe their wallets.”

“You know hon, you don’t have to go along with his stupidity just to make him like you.”

“I know”, you sigh. “It just… it’s makes him so happy!”

“And so does his credit card! Just wave that in front of his face for a few seconds, it’ll have the same effect. Trust me, I’ve tried. And succeeded.”

You cross your arms, looking down, suddenly finding the floor very interesting as your brain works overtime thinking about him.

“I know… I guess I just wanted to be the reason why he’s happy.”

Asmo gives you a knowing smile, shaking his head. “What am I gonna do with you two? Ugh, it’s so cute I can barely take it!”

“What’s so cute?”

Asmo doesn’t just laugh at that, he cackles. He doubles over, tears in his eyes.

“Honey, if you don’t think we all can’t see this silly little back and forth you two are caught up in, you’re as delusional as Levi was when he thought he’d won a meet and greet with his favorite idol.”

“Wasn’t that another one of Mammon’s schemes?”

“Maybe..”, he leads off with a devilish lit in his voice.

You remain quiet as a small smile finds its way to his face and he shakes his head at you.

“You’re both ridiculous.”

Asmo grabs your shoulders, twisting the chair so you fully face the mirror. He runs a hand through your hair, staring into your reflection.

“How abouutttt, instead of getting you all made up to go to some dingy bar with my idiot brother, we get you all made up for my idiot brother, huh?”

“I dunno Asmo, he’s probably not even gonna notice.”

“Nonsense! When I’m done with you those drunks won’t be the only ones who are distracted.”, he says with a wink.

His smile? Devious.

It isn’t too long, probably a little over an hour before you hear banging on Asmo’s door.

“Oi! Are ya almost done in there? We’re on a tight schedule!”

“Why don’t you come in and see for yourself?”, Asmo questions in a dangerous voice.

Mammon is staring down at his D.D.D, typing with one hand as he opens the door with the other, so he doesn’t immediately see you.

But when he does

“Well…What do you think?”

Your voice comes out much shyer than you had hoped for, but you force yourself to look at him, knowing your face was on fire.

His eyes are wide behind his sunglasses as he just makes this unreadable face. One you don’t know what to make of.

“I uh, ya look uh.. I gotta”, he stammers before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath and…

“I forgot somethin’ in my room! Ya, just uh, gotta go grab it. Real important. And uh, you know what? You don’t have to come with me! The Great Mammon’s decidin’ to fly solo on this one, ha ha! Sooo…”

You watch him awkwardly back out of the room, shutting the door behind him before you hear him waking away. And then you hear that walk turn into a run.

“Well?”, Asmo nudges you, “Go after him, silly.”

“But Asmo-“

“We both know exactly why he acted like that. Stop worrying so much.” He gives you a genuinely warm smile. “Everyone knows that he likes you”.

Though nervous and maybe trembling slightly, you still manage to make your way to Mammon’s room. You hear shuffling inside that quickly halts when you knock.

“Mammon?”, you question when you get no actual response. “It’s me, can I come in?”

Still nothing, but you swear you hear him lean up against the door.

“I thought I was the ‘main component’ to this scheme. Now you don’t want me to be a part of it?”

You can’t hide to subtle hurt in your voice, one that makes him make some kind of groaning noise before promptly opening the door.

“Mammon I- woah!”, you stumble as he grabs you by the wrist once more, pulling you into his room quickly and slamming the door behind you.

He turns his back to you, eyes closed, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated.

“Mammon…”

“Listen, ya can’t… I can’t have ya goin’…”

He makes another annoyed noise before turning to face you.

“Ya can’t go out lookin’ like that okay! Especially to some seedy ass dive bar!”

“Why not? Isn’t this what you wanted? This was the whole plan right? I flirt with people, you take their wallets, we run before Lucifer hears anything about it.”

“Yeah, but-“

“Now I wasted all this time getting ready and you don’t wanna do this anymore?”

“It’s not tha-“

“I thought we were like, partners in crime. Maybe I was stupid for thinking that.”

The disappointment in your voice makes him crack.

“Ya look too damn good, okay?! I’m not lettin’ ya go cause I’m not lettin’ any of those assholes touch ya, let alone look at ya!”

His face is cherry red, and his arms are crossed as he keeps his eyes promptly shut. He looks as if he’s bracing for impact. Bracing for your response.

“I got to thinkin’ bout it after I dropped ya with Asmo and just… the thought of you sayin’ all that sweet stuff you say to me to a couple of nobodies just so I could swipe their pocketbooks? I couldn’t…ya can’t….ya can’t say that stuff to anybody else, got it?”

He seems to let out the breath he’s been holding.

“Specially not lookin’ like that. I mean, ya always look amazin’, but this is…wow.”

He looks you up and down, and you can’t help but feel like your heart is exploding into a million pieces. Was it nervousness? Was it excitement? Was it a mix of both?

You’ll never know, because what he said next makes your thoughts hault, heart beating out of your chest.

“It would kinda be a shame for you to get all dressed up for nothin’ though so…can I take ya to dinner?”

#obey me #om #mammon #omswd #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date #obey me headcannons #obey me mc #mammon headcannons #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #om mammon #omnb #obey me nightbringer mammon #obey me nightbringer #omnb mammon #om mc #omswd mammon

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rocorambles · 3 years

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What Is Love?

Pairing: Gojo x reader (Main), Nanami x reader (Side)

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Rape, Sacrilegious, God Complex and Delusional Gojo, Somnophilia, Slapping, Choking, Humiliation, Coercion, Non-Con Infidelity

Summary: Gojo learns what love is and unfortunately, you're the object of his newfound affection.

A/N: Thank you as always for beta-ing @sawamooora and dedicating this to my dear @lets-go-datehoe. Thank you for sending this request, Yuli~

Love? Gojo Satoru doesn’t believe in love. Love is for hopeless, lonely souls. Love is for miserable pathetic wretches desperate to fill an emptiness in their hearts, in their lives.

When everyone in the world is already falling head over heels to serve him, to be with him, when he's given everything he's ever wanted and more on a silver platter, why would he need love?

Gojo Satoru is already at the top of the world, with or without love.

Now lust? Gojo understands lust.

Carnal pleasure is never unwelcomed and unlike his elders, his head isn’t shoved so far up his ass to deny that he adores the feeling of his cock inside a slobbering mouth, a sopping wet cunt, an exquisitely tight ass.

But more than that, his arrogance and ego thrives and swells as women throw themselves at him, the feeling of being desired only fueling the prideful monster inside of him, only fueling his borderline delusion.

Of course everyone wants him. He’s Gojo Satoru after all.

And so he lets himself be worshipped, lets woman after woman praise him, reveling in the way they chant his name like a prayer as he returns their devotion with thick sticky white blessings. He smirks at the way they kneel before him, staring up at him in reverence, their pretty mouths and throats stretched wide across his cock.

Gojo Satoru is a god, and gods do not chase after mere mortals. So when he meets and you barely give him the time of day other than a polite bow, he shrugs his shoulders.

You’re just another disbeliever. Another silly lamb he needs to convert. Nothing more. Nothing less. Definitely nothing to get worked up about.

It’s almost amusing how you’re playing hard to get, sinning by spitting such crude and crass remarks at a deity like him every time he tries to speak to you. And it’s almost infuriating how you turn your nose up at him, as if you’re qualified to have an opinion of him, let alone think of him as beneath you. But he hides the pleased smile on his face when he sees your gaze linger just a tad too long to be mere coincidence the first time he reveals his eyes to you, a look of awe slipping past your scowling countenance.

See? They all come around eventually.

And so he lays it on thicker, draping his tall figure over yours, letting his warm breath grace the back of your neck, murmuring coy words in your ear. His long fingers find themselves tangling in your hair, brushing against your hands, touching every part of you as much as he can get away with.

You’re so close. He can feel your walls slowly crumbling away, can see the unsureness in your eyes as you half heartedly nudge him away after unconsciously leaning into his touch. Just a little more…

Except something, or rather someone, stops him.

Gojo Satoru isn’t usually caught off guard, especially not by the likes of Nanami Kento. The ex-salary man is a good man, but just a man nonetheless, no matter how you dress it up. But Gojo grudgingly admits at least surprise, if not something more, when he hears you’re in Tokyo and decides to pay your apartment a visit, only to find the Grade 1 sorcerer’s tongue shoved down your throat, your naked bodies entangled in rumpled bed sheets.

He tells himself it’s just a one night stand...maybe a friends with benefits relationship at most when he happens to catch both of you holding hands in broad daylight, a carefree smile he’s never seen before stretched across Nanami’s face as he sits at a cafe table with you, watching you happily munch on some pastry his underclassman has purchased for you.

Nothing he can’t handle.

But if you were a bitch before, a snarling ferocious wildcat whenever Gojo was around, you’re even worse now. Your apathy, the nonchalance with which you politely smile and nod in acknowledgement at Gojo before promptly ignoring him for the suited man by your side, gets under his skin like nothing ever has before. For once, Gojo is at a loss.

Ahh, so this is what denial feels like. This is the rejection and emptiness that he’s seen drive others to madness. This is love.

Gojo Satoru experiences his first heartache, but he doesn’t break down into pitiful sobs, he doesn’t mope around in self-pity.

He laughs.

He’s lost the battle, but he hasn’t lost the war. And when others would have turned tail and fled, he stands his ground, icy blue eyes sparkling in glee at the prospect of a new challenge, the prospect of his sweetest victory yet.

Gojo Satoru is a dangerous man. You know that with all your heart and soul, so it only makes sense that your hackles raise anytime he’s in your proximity. Maybe you take it too far, disrespecting your senior to an extent that would bring shame to you if it were anyone other than the Special Grade sorcerer. But in hindsight you’ll wish you did more.

You’ll wish you hadn’t caught the attention of the world’s strongest sorcerer. You’ll wish you hadn’t found yourself mesmerized by his sheer power, by those damning, dazzling eyes. You’ll wish you hadn’t begun to be ensnared by his allure, a trap you’ve heard the consequences of far too often from your heartbroken and weeping fellow female sorcerers. Maybe you’ll even wish you had just let him have a taste of you, use you before tossing you out like trash, like every other woman who’s fallen in bed with him, instead of whetting his appetite only to deny him of his feast, only to have him fixate on you even more.

But like Gojo, you know love and lust are two different things. And when Nanami shows up in your life, like a knight in shining armor, you feel Gojo’s spell on you shatter, your heart fluttering and thawing the ice that had begun to creep up your body, trapping you in endless blue.

Love is blinding, and really, you should have known that normal boundaries don’t exist in Gojo’s world. But your adoration for your lover has you hesitantly, but politely, letting the cheerful sorcerer into your shared home with Nanami — even though your boyfriend is overseas for a mission, not due back for at least another week.

It would be a lie to say you’re completely relaxed and fine with the circumstance you’re in, alone with Gojo Satoru with no chance of anyone being able to help you if something were to happen. But for whatever reason, Nanami respects the man, even considers him a friend, and in turn you feel an obligation of sorts to at least be cordial. And besides, Gojo isn’t a good man, but he’s not a bad man…right?

You find it difficult to believe that Gojo didn’t know Nanami was out of town, that his pout is sincere when you tell him that Nanami won’t be back anytime soon. There are only so many Grade 1 sorcerers in Tokyo and even less that Gojo actively keeps in touch with. But what’s the alternative? Believe Gojo came to see you? Unlikely.

Gojo is a womanizer, a slut, whatever other word you want to use. But a homewrecker? Especially of a dear friend? Never. (Frankly, you think it would just be too much of a bother for the emotionally stunted man.)

And you’re glad to see that your theories are proving to be true as the night continues, wondering if maybe the white-haired man is just lonely.

He’s strangely pleasant as he keeps a respectable distance from you, no suggestive comments spewing from his mouth, even his obnoxious arrogance kept to a tolerable low. You feel your guard drop, your smiles feeling more natural, genuine laughs slipping past your lips as he tells you about his latest adventures and missions.

But as a yawn interrupts your conversation and you stare askance at how late it is before urging him home to get some rest, apologizing for keeping him so long, your heart drops as you feel an overwhelming presence caging you against your living room couch, long limbs on either side of your body.

“What do you see in Nanami that you don’t see in me?”

The question is so jarring you almost forget the panic rising in your chest, mouth moving soundlessly as you try to process the meaning of his words. But instead of an answer, all that bubbles out of you is a shaky plea for him to leave.

Gojo’s never been good at following orders or commands. Why would he be? Since when has a god ever needed to listen to mortals? And you’re no exception.

You whimper as you’re suddenly transported to the bedroom you share with Nanami, struggling to no avail as Gojo easily tears your clothing off, positioning you on all fours in front of the floor-length mirror that decorates the corner of the room. Bile rises in your throat as he takes his blindfold off, blue eyes seemingly piercing your soul even through just a reflection and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to imagine you’re anywhere but here, with anyone other than him, trying to grasp at every fond memory you have of your blonde lover. But Gojo has a point to make and you gasp, eyes snapping wide open as a large hand wraps around your neck, choking you until you’re forced to stare at your joined bodies on the mirrored surface.

“Look at how perfect we are together. Look at how perfect you are underneath me. You chose that instead of this?”

You sob when he twists your head and forces you to look at a framed photograph on your vanity, a photo Nanami and you had taken together when he had brought you overseas with him for a mission.You regret not insisting that you go with him this time around, wishing more than anything else that you were wrapped in his strong arms.

There’s something irritating about your wailing and blubbering, your little hiccups and sniveling only fueling something dark and twisted inside of Gojo. Maybe it’s the way he knows that you’d never act like this if he was Nanami. Maybe it’s the way he knows you’re lust incarnate whenever Nanami has his hands or mouth on you. Maybe it’s the way he knows that you despise him and his touch so much, that you’d rather die than let him have you.

Ungrateful bitch.

Well if you’re going to cry, Gojo might as well give you something to cry about. A crazed grin slices his handsome face as your screams reach an all-time high, a frenzy, as he shoves his cock inside your unprepped hole, his shaft twitching in interest when you desperately wail his name over and over again as if that would do anything other than have him intensify his pace. But as pretty as his name sounds from your mouth, he tires of your useless pleas for him to stop. Gojo uses one hand to shove your face into the floor, your garbled cries muffled by the carpet as he chases his end, moaning at how perfect your tight, gummy walls feel around him. He’s dreamt of this for far too long and with a grunt, he cums inside of you, draping over your body and pressing his lips against the back of your neck, affectionately marking and tasting you as he empties his balls.

Through the pain and shame, relief floods through you, hope that this is finally all over, that he’ll leave you and your battered body alone. And you play dead, letting him do as he pleases, only occasionally wincing when he leaves a particularly intense mark on your skin, momentarily cringing when he pulls out, thick liquid trickling from your abused hole.

But you should have known better, should have known this was just the beginning.

You weakly paw at the strong arms easily cradling your exhausted figure, trying to wriggle as much as your aching body allows you to, sobbing into his shoulder when you see the direction you’re headed in. You wonder how it’s possible to feel even dirtier as calloused hands lather you with soapy suds, as Gojo takes his time scanning every inch of your body, intimately caressing and mapping every line and curve. And you plead for forgiveness from Nanami when slick begins to pool between your legs, as Gojo gently kneads and experiments with your breasts, rolling your nipples, long fingers expertly circling your clit and slipping inside of you.

Your orgasm shatters you and you stand there like a rag doll, body convulsing and eyes rolling back in your head as you drench Gojo’s digits with your arousal, the sticky strands of betrayal staining his hand as he brings it to your mouth. He gently peppers your neck and shoulder with encouraging kisses as you submissively suck him clean, tugging you along as he dries you off before tucking the both of you in bed, holding you in the mockery of a lover’s embrace. It doesn’t escape your notice that he’s chosen to sleep on Nanami’s side of the bed and shame has you curling into a fetal position, has you burying your face in the bedsheets, hoping for at least a whiff of Nanami’s familiar scent, a reminder of his presence.

It works, and you let yourself fall into a restless sleep, your lips twitching every so slightly upwards despite the tears still trapped in your lashes as you think of a tall blonde man, a yellow spotted tie wrapped around your hands as you teasingly pull a spectacled face in for a kiss. You writhe and twist in your sleep, heavily panting as you imagine Nanami’s hands roaming on your figure, his lips tenderly kissing a bold line down your neck and in between the valleys of your breasts. And as you imagine his fingers carefully rubbing your clit, you sigh his name, only to be abruptly woken as a lance of pain shreds through you.

Eyelids still heavy with sleep, body still groggy from being so suddenly roused, you can’t piece together what’s happening, one of your hands instinctively cupping your smarting cheek. But you frantically claw and bat in the dark, knowing exactly who’s on top of you despite the fact that your eyes haven’t fully adjusted to the blackness, the way your body is ripped apart once more, a telltale sign of whose cock is penetrating you.

“It’s very rude to say another man’s name when I’m the one making you feel so good. Let me teach you the only name you need to know."

There’s something horribly intimate about the position you two are in, the way he’s tainting the very sheets and mattress Nanami had made love to you on countless times. You wish you could force yourself back to sleep, could gouge out your eyes as you begin to make out the man pistoning in and out of you. But it’s no use and you know even sightless, those icy blue orbs are branded in your mind.

You vow to at least not give him the satisfaction of hearing his name from your mouth, pressing and biting your lips until a copper taste assaults your tastebuds. But Gojo has always been talented at everything he does, those gifted eyes seeing far more than they should. You shake your head side to side in denial as a knot quickly begins to form in your gut, body tensing as you feel another wave coming over you, only to let out a confused whimper when everything suddenly stops.

“You get to cum when you say my name and the magic word.”

The playful lilt and childish tone have you seeing red and you sneer in twisted pleasure when a gob of your spit hits him squarely in the face, a litany of curse words and insults spewing from deep inside of you, uncaring of how you’re more like a raving madwoman than a victim.

But you’re not the first brat Gojo’s had to tame, and he just smirks condescendingly down at you before playing you like an instrument, easily bringing you to that narrow brink where even a single breath of air, or a simple flick of a finger seems like it would have you toppling over the edge, only to relentlessly snatch you right back before you can fall.

You don’t know how long he goes on for, your shattered and denied mind barely cognizant of the beginnings of daylight creeping through the window. But as the rays of light make it to your bed, you break.

“Gojo-”

You howl when he pulls out, hips wantonly thrusting in the air for more friction as he crudely slaps his tip against your clit, a frown on his lips.

“That’s not the name I want to hear.”

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. Where’s your fucking backbone? How could you even entertain the idea of screaming another man’s name in your lover’s bed?

But when he steps away, your eyes zero in on how his cock separates from the sopping wet mess between your thighs, an unbidding distressed whine clawing up your throat at the thought of being left high and dry, mind hazy with lust and arousal.

“Sa-Satoru…Satoru, please.”

There’s work to be done and he’s not entirely pleased by the note of hesitancy and reluctance he still hears despite the hours he’s taken out of his time to educate you. But a promise is a promise and fuck if he doesn’t love the way his given name sounds in your mouth. And with just a few more meticulously placed thrusts and practiced twists of his fingers, you come undone, your lewd sex-crazed appearance and dopey smile from finally getting your sweet release dragging him down with you.

But it doesn’t end there and Gojo makes good use of your empty house, of the week he has alone with you.

There’s not a single surface in your home, not a single hole on your body that isn’t used and marked thoroughly. And even he briefly wonders if he’s being too rough with you, a flicker of concern crossing his mind as he pouts at the idea of his new toy breaking so soon.

But you prove your resilience and a strange concoction of pride and irritation festers inside of him as you determinedly clamp your mouth shut, a spark of defiance lighting up those lust-clouded eyes whenever he urges you to say you love him back, despite the way you practically ride and hump his face as he kneels between your legs and eats you out in the kitchen, despite the way you slur and babble his name over and over again like it’s the only thing you know how to say.

You’re adorable and he wishes he had all the time in the world to break you fully without using his trump card, to see just how durable you really are. But time is ticking and Nanami is due back any day now.

“Say you love me.”

He coaxes you by gently holding you in his arms, peppering your face with butterfly kisses, endearingly observing the way you seek the little comfort you can get despite the fact that he’s the giver, so deprived of anything other than frenzied arousal. But steely resolve hardens your eyes and you turn your face away.

“I love Nanami.”

You brace yourself for a cock slamming inside of you, a hand wrapped around your throat, but you aren’t ready for the endless galaxy that suddenly surrounds you, and blood-curling fear washes over you.

Unlimited Void.

You’d have to be living under a rock not to know of it, and yet, seeing it in person, you can safely say the rumors and tales don’t do it justice. Gojo laughs at how you frantically cling onto him, your arms wrapping around him, your face burying itself into his chest, voice trembling as you beg him to release you, beg him to get rid of his domain expansion, beg him not to let you go. You’ve seen the aftermaths of his technique, seen curses and sorcerers much stronger than yourself reduced to brain-dead husks from mere seconds in his domain.

“Say you love me.”

The words are on the tip of your tongue, fear making you docile. But a flash of blonde, a glimpse of a tailored suit in your mind keeps your saving grace stuck in your throat. You tell yourself it’s okay, you don’t mean it, it’s just a means to save yourself, surely Nanami will understand. And you begin to open your mouth, only to break off in a scream as you’re roughly shoved away, your hesitation speaking volumes to the white-haired sorcerer who sighs in irritation.

Not that you really notice or maybe you notice too well. You aren’t sure. You are sure. You can feel your sanity rapidly slipping as everything and nothing slams into your senses at once.

“Satoru, I love you!!”

It’s barely comprehensible, a shrieked frantic wail muddied by anxiety. But it’s enough and you sob in relief when Gojo ruffles your hair like you’re a well-behaved pet, leaning into his touch and digging your nails into his wrist, keeping his contact on you still and steady, dry heaving as you come back to your senses.

You don’t even realize that the repeated mantra is still coming out of your own mouth as you fling yourself onto the sorcerer as his artificial universe fades away, curling up in his lap, heart pounding as you chant “I love you, I love you, I love you” over and over again like it’s your holy scripture.

Gojo is on cloud nine watching you finally come to faith, finally worship him and praise him. You were lost, and now you’re found. And he has no intentions of ever letting you stray again. It’s not like there’s anywhere else for you to go, anything else for you to do other than warm his cock anyway.

He crashes his lips against yours as he easily slips inside your well-used cunt, walls molded and shaped perfectly after countless rounds. It’s sinful how good you feel, how good you sound, and he can feel his balls tighten, his own end quickly approaching as you shatter to pieces over and over again around him, quivering walls milking him, clamping down on him as if you can’t bear the thought of being empty.

But there’s nothing to worry about. What god would leave his faithful disciple unrewarded? What declaration of faith comes without a baptism? And he cums inside of you, hot spurts filling you up, branding you, marking and claiming you as his, the sticky white trails leaking out of your stuffed cunt a public declaration of who you belong to.

There’s silence as he lets you collapse on top of him, grinning at how blissfully fucked out you look, cock already twitching in interest again as he spies the mess of tears and drool dripping down your chin. But there are matters of business to attend to first and he nudges you to look at him, cooing down at vacant eyes still hazy with pleasure.

“Nanami is returning tomorrow-”

Blinding pain shocks you as a large hand tangles with your roots, pulling your head back so far you think your neck might snap.

“What are you so happy about?”

There’s a lightness to his question, the silence before the storm, and you wipe the smile off your face, hissing as he tugs harder.

“I know you like me more, but I didn’t think you would be heartless enough to be so excited about breaking up with your boyfriend. Poor Nanami.”

Even through the pain, the unspoken weight of his words registers in your head and you snarl at him with a vengeance.

“I’m not breaking up with-”

Your throat goes dry as he relinquishes his hold on you, one hand raising to eye-level, pointer and middle fingers beginning to cross, and you go still, mouth snapping shut.

“Good girl. Now you’ve experienced Unlimited Void for yourself. What do you think would happen to Nanami if I left him in there for even a second? Do you think he’d ever be the same even if he were to somehow survive, even if he were to go through months of rehabilitation?”

The inquisitive tone makes it sound like just a bunch of theoretical questions, but you know better, know the ramble for the threat that it is.

Love is about sacrifice, and you’re willing to give it all up for the man whose contact Gojo is pulling up on your phone, whose number is being called. And as the ringtones finally stop and a familiar voice greets you over the speaker, you seal your fate.

#yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo smut #tw: noncon #tw: rape #tw: somnophilia #tw: yandere

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knowlesian · 2 years

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THIS ONE IS A G E N U I N E REQUEST i mean sure so was the unhinged izzy one but this one i mean for gentle and good reasons, not weird scuzzy little sad idiot man ones.

anyway has anyone seen the gifset contrasting “i could be family”/the goodbye/jim’s return?

i only ask because i need to see the quietest love song play out in full without swapping between tabs.

How’d you find me?

I just followed a trail of twigs... and footprints.

I’ve seen you get lost on the ship sometimes.

oh yeah, buckle up. i’m going full gnaw this like old bubblegum mode from MOMENT ONE today, and i’m not even starting with a scene i mentioned in the half-genuine request, half stubborn refusal to ever let the framing device bit die; these two deserve it. until they get an official ship name (...and maybe even honestly after? when i fall, i fall hard, and as i said: i do so love to commit to the bit) i will continue to call them my muppet babies.

look. i’m not gonna say the writers were subtle here; what i will say is, sometimes you don’t need to be subtle to punch me in the fucking heart.

...also to be a good writer and make your point very well without writing a secret code to discern why izzy is Like That in his word choice about ed’s breakup self-help book era, but the heart-punching is sort of my main focus here. izzy makes me want to write unhinged meta so i can poke at his dumb sad brain to see if maybe i can discern the source of his inability to take a fuckin’ chill pill (or a dick, as that is His Whole Weird Hangup, see: dickclouds) and maybe fix it? if not that, then mock him a lot.

jim and olu make me want to write unhinged meta because they are so, so unbearably gentle and revolutionary for it that when i think about them, i feel like maybe i’m dreaming.

they make me so unhinged the izzy shit looks like nothing. it is known that i am Deeply Normal and Fine about izzy; i am absolutely feral about these two. though neither of them need me to and jim in particular might find the challenge refreshing, i would fight a bear for them, your honor. a bear from space. with lasers.

fuck you, hypothetical space bear with your fucking space lasers, i will say. what did you say about my babies? i will SEE YOU OUTSIDE and not in the loving way i will see the entire team of monster/lighthouses who created and then brought this show to life outside. in the “i’m gonna die, i can’t fucking fight a normal bear and then there’s the LASERS?” way.

...right! textual analysis, i said.

there’s an obvious joke at play. jim is having an Emo Moment, and vico plays this first bit of the scene to convey that, in way in a fun, subtle way i really love; when olu first approaches, they don’t look at him and deliver their question to the vague middle distance, Woe and Burden starting to settle back onto their shoulders.

they are back in their original non-muppet movie context, and in this world when your half-orange rolls up to try and take your emotional temperature you don’t turn to look at people when you say something vaguely badass and dramatic.

and since in those sorts of canons, you don’t get a practical answer to those kinds of questions, olu’s deeply muppet explanation about the granular details of how he found jim is even funnier than it would be if he said it to anybody other than maybe izzy. subverting expectation is one of the general staples of comedy, so there’s that box checked; jim turning to face olu as they give the affectionate/exasperated response that they’ve seen olu get lost on the goddamned ship is also funny.

but then here’s the not subtle but so good heart punching part. olu, who gets lost in the ship, never has any trouble finding jim. he follows the twigs and their footprints, until he finds the heart that beats out the same rhythm as his own, and reminds jim they don’t have to exist in this world alone if they don’t want to.

this is why i love jim just appearing out of nowhere when they return to finally kiss the living daylights out of olu’s beautiful face so i can scream and kick my feet with glee every single time i watch it: i know, the linear time muppets among us are still blowing their stacks over this, but i’m a galaxy brain muppet. olu can always find jim; it stands to reason jim can always find olu. that’s just the way it works, when you’re two halves of an orange meant to make a whole, even if you have to either bend time or teleport to get there. so you teleport! rules on how you bridge the distance are more like guidelines when you decide to take the risk and allow your heart to beat in a chest that isn’t your own; wherever one of you goes, there the other one will eventually be. to speak in the love language of two other big ol’ dopes who make an orange together and also own my heart: that’s the dot in the i. it’s jeremy freaking bearimy, baby.

which brings me to:

She’s a lot. But she’s my only family.

Well, look. If you wanted... I could be family.

“if you wanted.” oh, olu. a man who probably holds community dearest, but keeps respect and autonomy nestled close enough they’re an indistinguishable part of the desire to bring people into the light where he’s so, so comfortable. i want to be your family jim, of course i want to—but do you want me to be? this is why someone like jim allowed olu to speak for them, before they put together the words to do so for themselves. because he loves jim with all his wonderful heart, and still he asks: what do you want? what would make you happy? those things have just as much value to me as getting to hold you close and call you mine.

there is an ache deep in my heart when i ask myself this question: how does a man who was named by people who knew the words to their own songs and had the space to learn how to let them ring out loud find himself in a place where piracy was his only recourse, and jim his only family in sight?

(please oh please, in the s2 i refuse to accept could ever not be inevitable, with my whole goddamned muppet heart, i would like to meet some of olu’s first family. many of the answers i come up with when i ask myself that terrible question are ones that say this would be impossible, but yet: again and again, like olu, i choose to believe the world can be kinder if i throw my heart against the bars of the cage, and grab at every piece of joy i can until they can’t fucking stop me from finding out what’s outside.)

what i want aside, and whatever happened between then and now, here olu is: planted amidst the citrus trees, food in his belly from his welcome into the heart of jim’s childhood. offering, not demanding: i could be family, too, if you wanted me to. we could be family. we sing the same song. our stories are different, the paths we walked to get to this moment are different, but i hear you. and as olu leans in, heart in his beautiful, kind eyes: he reflects the world back as jim sees it, joyously singing from the same hymnal.

his warmth says, even here, where they used to call you another name and are still having trouble holding as fast as you might like to not doing so anymore, i know you are jim: jim, who has never been anything but. who trusted me to hold their truth in my steady hands and speak for them; oh, how i see you.

i see you, in all your complications, all your flaws and your faults, your glories and your triumphs: i see you. i don’t lie to myself, because love based upon keeping the truth locked away can never last, but i love you because of, not in spite of. i love it all: all of it is you. unconditional and true.

this sort of love, olu’s easy, accepting love, is the best definition of holy i will ever be able to give.

(also, they nearly kiss and the way they frame olu’s 10000000% teal earring is CHURLISH. AND. INSUBORDINATE. i get it, jim: teal’s my favorite color now, too. how could it not be? listen to the way this man says cake!!!!)

is it now painfully obvious olu is the character i actually love best? not just like, but love. because he is. i love everyone in this silly/genius intersectional pirate bar (even you, dizzy izzy) if only because i choose to extend that even the worst of us, when it comes down to it: i hold people accountable, but if i stop believing everyone yet drawing breath has the ability to be better than they were yesterday and even become someone i might want to call my home, i think i’ll probably have to relocate to a cave in the proverbial hinterlands, never to return.

i think olu understands this; when their moment is interrupted and jim decides the next part of their journey needs to take place alone, olu doesn’t even try to dissuade them. his love is the fire at the heart of the lighthouse, burning bright and steady. wherever jim goes, there they are. and there olu’s love shall be. jim carries it with them, now, a twin flame burning alongside their own. a beacon, guiding them home.

i want to admit something before i talk about the hat slap, because that and jim slapping at the dumb little cup and practically yelling SCATTER! SERPENTINE, SERPENTINE! as they dash off to do something stupid are my handkerchief/Boot Touch for these two.

it’s about the boot touch. if you had asked me before they casually confirmed taika improv’d it, i would have sworn up and down it had to be scripted. it’s so good! it’s the boot version of darcy’s hand clenching and it’s a visual joke i think about all the time. they knocked boots! they knocked BOOTS. that’s so stupid and funny and good. so yeah, i would have said to you: no way that wasn’t scripted. it’s too all-around perfect.

BUT: FUCKIN. TAIKA. nope! i would have been a big old dummy and deeply wrong.

with that in mind: i’m gonna guess the hat slap (and honestly, the cup too) were probably just vico and samson being ridiculous and unfairly good at this. if i start talking about how this entire group of actors is collectively a blessing and a joy i will never fucking shut up but let me just say: finding people who just get their characters and are funny as fuck themselves is the magic ingredient for a cast like this.

(still can’t believe nobody planned that damn boot thing out in advance. i mean: they KNOCKED BOOTS. why is everyone involved in this working at their absolute peak!!! it is very cool!!!! thanks everyone!!!! love you!!!! see you in the denny’s parking lot!!!!)

so: the hat slap.

do me a favor: imagine jim’s response to anyone else on the crew getting up in their space, let alone batting at the brim of their hat. got it? good. keep that hilarious shitshow pinned while i contrast it with what happens with olu.

jim’s eyes flick down (the sense that they both want to go in for the kiss again but share the understanding it’s once again, just not the right time: ooof. so good. i’m SO MAD AT THESE TWO) and then as olu walks away, they smile.

like, a wholeass no holds barred actual smile. full-on little kid who just got a gold star on the sticker chart impossible to repress pleased grin. it’s so sweet. we found out this episode the vibe that jim never learned the value of a good afternoon nap is because their ability to be a kid who just chills out, safe to screw around and do silly shit died an abrupt death with their family, and here’s olu: bringing big dumb muppet fun into their life, right up until the last second.

the regret and resolve come right after but now jim has olu’s promise of safe harbor stashed away with a kiss owed and it’s off to be badass with jackie (how fucking great is leslie in this, by the way?) until olu’s beacon guides them home.

Why’d you give it away?

I, um... I missed you.

the way olu’s eyes light up when he first sees jim, like he’s just been handed everything he ever wanted and never thought he’d get. i just can’t with samson, i can’t.

before ed rolled up to save izzy’s dumb ass from being thrown overboard, olu was told by the ragtag group of dummies who have also become his home they wanted him to be their captain. he had seen his true value laid out in no uncertain terms, before the chance to lead was taken away from him just as fast as it was offered.

he might say he doesn't want the job, but he could do it. he could do it well and olu knows that, but now he’s not going to be captain after all and worse: he still doesn’t have jim. he’s been pining for the runtime of nearly two whole episodes for them and he can't bear to be in the space where jim’s absence looms largest at the same time all he wants is to go back to sleeping there. that’s where olu can touch the echoes of home and remind himself: he had to wait for jim once already to find it before, he can do it again.

the thing olu knows that makes him so wonderful and able to see people clearly and love them just as hard as ever is that as long as he’s open and looks for it, once he finds the people he’d like to fill it with home is never doing more than waiting for your return, arms open and cake ready.

and now he has jim who was in the room they share literally waiting for his return. i think there was a piece of olu that fell just a little bit more in love there, in a way he didn’t even know was possible. olu is steady; a hearthfire, the kind of warmth you can depend on. he is so often waiting for people to come home to him; and he wants them to. it’s who he is, but the difference between “i was waiting for you, and now you’re back” to “you waited for me; this is a moment when i needed you to comfort me so much it made me ache, and you were just magically here” is just... so very deeply unfair. i mean, jesus fuck, leave me here to weep, etc etc etc. SO unfair.

also unfair, jim kissing his fucking face off and launching both of them back onto the bed together.

there’s this deeply cool and genuinely beautiful part in the bible where they take a little break to do some slam poetry about sex, called the songs of songs. (it’s also about the beauty of having dark skin; i would lay down my life these are both things the writers know about, particularly because there are places it gets Arguably Gay, too.) it’s referred to as the song of solomon as well, alongside a handful of other things, but i’ve always been partial to the emotional resonance of how the first one hits me.

sing not just a song; sing a song of songs. sing not just your song, but the song of every other person alive, all raised together in joyful, unified noise.

the part people tend to know because it’s the part most writers like best is “let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.” and no shade to a very good line, but i just want to throw down a later verse that gets less play and deserves so much more.

His head is as the most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a raven / His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set / His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh / His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl: his belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires / His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars / His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.

first, this is obviously olu as fuck, because he is not just a snack he is the whole damn meal and dessert besides (respectful).

but: this is my beloved, and this is my friend. usually when people say “oh, the sex isn’t the point” it’s to hide their discomfort and sweep sex had by people they don’t understand in ways they don’t understand off as a sort of niche interest, a conversation piece and not someone’s source of joy.

the sex may not be the point, but it is now Part of It and olu is the little spoon because this isn’t izzy’s sad weird need for tenderness found only through completing all the intricate rituals needed to even begin to fumble uselessly towards grace, and then heading out back to beat metaphors about dicks and daddy issues and god with sticks until they cry.

that’s the old world. this is the new: when it comes to these two, saying the sex isn’t the point here means that before jim and olu ever had a truly excellent first kiss and adorably spooned, jim trusted olu to know the words they wanted to say and how to say them. this is my beloved; this is my friend. wherever they go, there i am.

as with everything on this show, it’s all the point. nana blessed their union in the heart of her church, but olu offered to be family on even holier ground still: the ground jim grew in. all those rough edges, the disappointments and pain that shaped them, refashioned into the place where olu looked at jim and said the words in their hearts out loud: we could be family, but only if you want to.

the old life came back to swallow the new, then, the old fears and vendettas and patterns. but they’re home now, and so jim’s song becomes: i want to. i want you, and together they consecrate yet another space.

in the place they made a home, together they sing a song of songs. they sing it out, and they sing it strong.

...so yeah anyway. anybody seen it?

#our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #oluwande boodhari #jim jimenez #my ofmd meta #MY MUPPET BABIES #O! I LOVE THEM #lol this is even longer than the izzy shit whatever i regret nothing #feels AT ELEVEN #i love them your honor i would fight an army of those damn space bears for them #there are two vibes to this: the holly holy sections and the jackie and wilson sections #...no okay there's also one come healing section #i'm MAKING JESUS SHIT ABOUT SEX AGAIN #this time it's healthy don't worry #many thanks to @tothetrashwhereibelong for a million reason but rn shepherding this into the world with me

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ashasmonsters · 3 years

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The Thru-Hiker

Female reader x Male mothperson (Desmond)

Citrus rating: Lemon

Content: Full-on smut, references to unhappy breakups

Words: 5.1k

Note: Here's the story that earns me the "18+" in my description. This is my first time making anything this smutty public, so any feedback or criticism would be appreciated. Enjoy!

You raised the viewfinder to your eye. The rolling hills fit within the frame-lines neatly, the trail before you leading straight down the middle and towards the horizon. With a satisfying click the shutter fired. You lowered the camera and cranked the film advance lever, confident that shot would turn out well. You let the camera dangle from your shoulder once again as you looked around: this spot was close enough to the main trail that you wouldn't need any "breadcrumbs" to lead you back to it in the morning. The sun would finish setting in an hour or so, and bird chirps had given way to trilling crickets and cicadas. It was warm enough that you didn't need to build a fire. Your stove would do just fine.

"That's a nice camera."

You turned towards the voice. Standing behind you, closer to the main trail and obscured slightly by foliage, loomed a lanky mothman. He wore clothes appropriate for hiking the Appalachian trail, though you hadn't seen him around. This meant he was quick or hiking the opposite direction as you.

"Thanks." You answered. He pushed a few low-hanging twigs out of the way and took a step towards you.

"Is that a..." he paused, his brow furrowing above his red compound eyes as he searched for a word, "Yashica, right?"

"Mamiya, actually." You answered, hefting the brick-shaped camera from your hip where it dangled. "It's been a pain to hike with, but I love it all the same."

"I'm sure you've got some excellent shots in that thing. I'm Desmond." He closed the remaining distance and tenderly extended a chitinous claw. You shook it in turn and returned his greeting.

"I don't believe I've seen you on the trail, Desmond," you said, "are you using those wings or hiking southbound?"

"Oh, I'm hiking southbound. Flying would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?"

"I guess that is a silly question." You lowered your eyes and made eye contact with his hiking boots. "I'm heading northbound."

"Hm. You must have started the trail pretty recently."

"That's right. I started maybe three weeks ago. You must be pretty close to finishing if you're going southbound."

"Been on the trail for five months." He answered.

"Wow." You breathed. Maybe mothmen wore it better, but he certainly looked neat for having lived in the wilderness for almost half a year. You caught yourself staring. "Um, got any tips for a relatively fresh hiker like me?"

"Take your time and enjoy yourself." He said, looking down at you. "The trail is going to take the better part of a year from you no matter what, so there's no point in rushing it."

"Thanks for the advice." A pause. You saw your reflection in his ruby eyes. "Anyway... I don't want to keep you from the trail, being nocturnal and all." You failed to suppress a tinge of longing in your voice. The sun started to kiss the horizon, making the canopy above you look like it was on fire.

"Well, actually..." Desmond rested a claw on the back of his neck fluff, "I was going to ask if you would share this spot with me. It's going to be a full moon and I planned to take a rest to enjoy it."

"Oh," you said, glad the sunset was masking your blush, "that should be fine, then."

"I don't want to impose, I could always find my own—"

"No, really, it's fine." You said, gesturing around the sizeable clearing. "We're sharing a view, not a cot. I don't mind."

"Ah, right." He played with his neck fluff again. "Well then, let's not waste the daylight." You nodded and slid your pack off.

Your sleeping arrangements for the trail had been spartan, but still comfortable. You carried a thin foam pad which rolled up nicely and fit under your sleeping bag, a tarp with hooks for hanging from above, a camp stove, and a sack to keep your food strung up a branch and away from animals.

All of this was set up fairly quickly since Desmond was helping you. He was quite tall, which made stringing up the extra food much easier than when you had done it alone. In no time, your foam pad was safely encircled by your hanging tarp and your stove was boiling a pot of water. Tonight's dinner was an Appalachian Trail classic: dehydrated cheesy rice. You took the initiative to invoke full-on luxury by adding a handful of equally dehydrated broccoli florets. You had a guest to entertain, after all.

"Thanks for making me breakfast. Dinner, in your case." Desmond said. The dim blue light from the camp stove caught only the very edges of his chitinous frame. His red eyes shone bright like a cat's through the steam from the culinary masterpiece cooking between you two.

"Consider it my treat." You smiled back. There was a pause, so you pulled a topic from the air. "Are you a photographer too? Not many people can tell apart the brands of these old things." You patted your Mamiya camera as if it were a tiny metal lapdog.

"Ah, no," He said, almost defensively, "if you have compound eyes like me, you can't really look through viewfinders. It just doesn't work."

"Right, sorry." You rubbed the back of your neck. "Where does your camera knowledge come from, then?"

"Well... you know the old mothpeople stereotype about how we like light?"

"Um." You spoke carefully. "I have heard of it."

"I kinda live up to that stereotype. Like, very much. It's why I wanted to stop here to watch the full moon."

"Okay, but how does that tie into cameras?"

"It's kind of embarrassing." He fidgeted with his long white neck fuzz. "It's the flash. When it goes off, it's like... like..."

"Like a drug?" You finished for him.

"No! Not like that. It's not addictive... I don't think. It's more like... what's that thing humans do with their nails and their skin?"

"Like scratching an itch?"

"Yes! Exactly." He said excitedly. "I don't itch, but if I did, I imagined it would feel like when a camera flash goes off."

You chuckled even though you knew he was a little embarrassed. This whole situation was just too absurd, too odd.

"So you're like a connoisseur of camera flashes." A pause. He lowered his gaze.

"Mamiyas have the best one." You chuckled again.

"Well, then." You pulled your camera from your bag and held it before you. "May I take your portrait?"

"If it's no trouble," his antennae perked up, "yes please."

Wrestling the camera into shooting position, you flipped the viewfinder open and aimed it squarely at him. The scene fit perfectly within the frame-lines; the glowing blue stove flames in the foreground and Desmond's red eyes neatly in the middle.

"Looks good to me." You said, pressing the flash release. The flash, a piece of metal the size of your thumb, sprung out of the camera and whined as the battery charged it.

"Oh, wow." He noted. You pressed the shutter—

"Goddamn!" Desmond cried, shuddering. Briefly, a low chirr seemed to emanate from him. "Pardon my French. That was good."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Most people hate when I ask to take their portrait." You cranked the film advance lever and smiled. You returned your camera to its place in your bag, then... remembered there was a meal on the stove. "Crap, I hope the bottom isn't burning." You said, quickly grabbing the stirring spoon and scraping the bottom of the pot. You continued until you were sure the food was in good shape.

"You know, when I thought about making this trek, I was worried about getting lonely. Like I wouldn't be able to put up with just myself for so long... but I've already met so many people and they've all been kind." You continued stirring the meal.

"Then what made you consider it in the first place?" Desmond asked, cocking an antenna.

"Oh... you know... adventure." You lied. The resulting pause made you painfully aware of how bad of a liar you are. The cheesy rice bubbled and spat steam at you as if heckling your poor performance.

"I'd believe that if you had a fedora and a whip. And knew where the holy grail was." He chuckled, his mandibles clicking.

"What?"

"Ah, just a stupid joke. There's these old movies..." He cut himself off and extended an empty claw, taking the spoon from you and making it his turn to stir. "I don't want to tell you your business, but everybody I've met in the past five months comes to the trail to run from something."

"Well... you're right that it's definitely my business." You tried not to scowl. The turn in conversation had resurrected an unpleasant feeling in your heart; something in the same neighborhood as shame or sadness.

"Not if what you're running from is the law and you're a serial killer or something. Then that's definitely my business." He clicked once more. His attempt to lighten the conversation didn't help that feeling much. The cheesy rice heckled him this time.

"I'm not a serial killer, I promise." You started, drawing in a sharp breath. Perhaps you just needed to vent. Maybe that would ease this malaise. "Why don't you start? Tell me what you're running from first, then I'll tell you about me." You took the stirring spoon back from him. He ran a claw down his face.

"I'm running from a breakup. We dated for three years." He sighed.

"I'm... sorry." You said, unsure of what else to say.

"Don't apologize; not unless you're the girl she ran off with." His mandibles clicked weakly. "I'm kidding. She didn't run off or anything. She didn't even cheat. She just realized that men weren't for her."

You raised an eyebrow. "Three whole years?"

"It didn't take her that long to realize it, just that long to work up the courage to tell me. Maybe I wasn't her true love, but she cared about me a lot. She was so scared of hurting me that she bottled it up for most of that time."

"You didn't want to remain friends?"

"I did— and I still do. I... I just said three things: 'I need some time to process this,' 'I'm in a lot of pain but it's not your fault,' and 'I'm going hiking for six months, call me back when I'm done.' That's all I could think of in the moment, and now I'm here."

"That's rough."

"You're telling me." His shoulders dropped. "I'm used to breakups with jerks. That I can make peace with, because then it's like a problem that solves itself. Jerk breaks up with you, therefore no more jerk to deal with. But... when it's someone that you love, that you want the best for, and that means they have to move on... that's something I'm still trying to work out." He sighed hard and lowered his crimson eyes. "I think the rice is done."

You were so caught up in his pained explanation that you lost track of time. You quickly turned off the camp stove and set the pot on the ground.

"Thanks for reminding me." You grabbed your enamel bowl as he readied his and started dishing out the rice and broccoli. You both sat there in silence, enjoying the feeling of hot food in hand. "Anyway, I guess it's my turn to share."

"Please. I wouldn't want to dump my problems on you without hearing out yours."

"I had a breakup too, though honestly I think mine wasn't as rough as yours." You said.

"We all go through different things. It's not a contest." Desmond said, idly poking his steaming meal. "Tell me about it, if you want."

So you did. Over the course of the meal, you told Desmond all about your past relationship: the fights you had with your ex, the nights spent in separate sleeping arrangements, the endless worry over how much of it was your fault. He nodded sympathetically with each painful memory you unraveled to him. Remembering it all made you feel worse, but having him listen made it feel much better. When you had no more to say, he stared at you. You saw yourself reflected in his eyes. Your spoon was trembling.

"It's okay to cry. I won't mind." Was all Desmond said before you had to set down your food and hold your face in your hands. It's like you had been saving up a surplus of tears throughout all these events and just barely they were escaping you. You could hear Desmond awkwardly scoot over in the dirt to your side before he offered a rigid shoulder to you.

"Chitin isn't exactly memory foam, but..." You rested your head on him without a second thought. One of his claws found its way to your shoulder and you felt better for it. This was the first time you had mentioned your breakup out loud and unquestionably the first time anyone had offered you a shoulder to cry on, literally or figuratively. You quickly came to find even Desmond's exoskeleton quite comfortable.

"Thanks for listening." You said as your sobs started to slow. He plainly chirred in response, making his grip on your shoulder a little tighter. His embrace was the first one you had felt since the breakup. You felt warm and safe in a way you had previously only had with your ex long ago. His neck fluff tickled you as he leaned his head onto yours.

"It's okay." You could feel his mandibles nudge your cheek as he spoke. "I know how hard it is." Your composure returned, and you stilled yourself against him. You finally removed your hands from your face, your eyes bloodshot.

"I'm glad I'm not wearing makeup." You chuckled weakly. "Otherwise my cheeks would look like a barcode right now."

"That's the spirit. Enjoy the little things." He rubbed your shoulder. "That's what the trail is all about."

You found yourself naturally holding Desmond closer, burying yourself in his neck fluff and wrapping an arm around his side as he held you. He smelled like pine and smoke. You grabbed your bowl of food once more and resumed eating, not leaving Desmond's side.

"I'm sorry for smearing my tears all over you." You said, coming back to reality. The taste of rehydrated cheesy rice wasn't great, but it was warm and familiar. Combined with Desmond's arm wrapped around you, the pain and baggage from the breakup left you like grime after a shower.

"It's alright." He said. "If moths could cry, I'd be crying all over you too. We're in the same shitty breakup boat."

He and you sat there together, finishing the meal. The camp stove had been turned off for a while now, and the only warmth you felt was your own, reflected off his chitin. The pause was permeated by lesser insects chirping and wind gently rustling the branches above. As you finished your food, you became painfully aware that Desmond couldn't hold you forever. He'd have to get in his sleeping bag eventually, and in the morning, continue his hike to nowhere other than your distant memories. Or, maybe...

"Want to share my sleeping bag with me?" The words left your mouth before you could even react. A second later, you realized what you had said and your heart raced. Your face found itself hidden in your hands again.

Why the fuck would you say that? Are you crazy? How would you feel if he randomly propositioned you for sex, huh? To which your responded to yourself with, Screw it, I'd be down for that.

Oh well. The fact he'd leave forever in the morning was both a blessing and a curse... but for now, mostly a blessing. It didn't matter if you were "rebounding" or doing something impulsive. Whatever happened tonight would stay in tonight. You and him would go your separate ways and there wouldn't be any regrets to be had. You practically held your breath as he processed what you said; the pause felt infinitely long.

"I'd love to." He broke the silence, his mandibles clicking more than usual. "Unless you're having second thoughts."

You looked up at him and shook your head. Wordlessly, he took your hand stood up with you. You led him to your dangling tarp wherein your sleeping bag and foam pad rested. Luxurious it was not, but as you slapped aside the flap and pulled Desmond in behind you, little else other than him was on your mind. You sat down on your "bed" and turned round, looking at him. His saucer-sized red eyes glowed as they met your gaze. He stepped closer.

"You're sure?" He said, kneeling before you. "I don't want to—"

You leaned forward and grabbed his head, clumsily planting a kiss where his mouth would be if he was human. It seemed to do the trick; he gasped and relaxed, his mandibles caressing your cheeks. You pulled back to breathe.

"I'm not asking you to marry me." You planted another kiss on him, tugging on his neck fluff. "I'm asking you to keep me company tonight."

"If you insist." He clicked. Something in his tone changed. For the first time his voice had timbre and need. He had left his tone suited for polite conversation and jokes outside your tarp. Here on your twin-sized foam pad, all pretenses were gone. You both knew you were going to give yourselves to each other; yet he surprised you by tugging the neck of your shirt down and scattering little kisses from your chin to your collarbone with his proboscis. It was rough and leathery and frankly didn't feel like anything you had touched before. You shuddered when he took it with him, descending past your breasts and peeling your shirt off your belly.

"Desmond..." You sighed, the only thing keeping this encounter casual being the button on your jeans.

"Everything alright so far?" He looked up at you with his large eyes, his mandibles brushing against your thigh as he spoke.

"Excellent." You breathed, resting a hand on the back of his neck fluff. "Please..." You used the same hand to ever-so-gently nudge him closer to your midst, which was already roiling with burning need. With a single claw, he carefully undid the button and zipper. You shimmied out of your jeans until his neck fluff tickled the inside of your exposed thighs; your underwear soon followed. He clicked some more as you fully exposed your entrance to him, his eyes studying you and his claws gently finding their way to each of your legs.

"Forgive me, it's been a while." He said as he lowered his face into you. You reclined further, only gazing upwards to the tarp and a tiny patch of starry sky.

"Don't talk, just— Ah!" He pulled a gasp from you as he began his ministrations. With your head resting on the foam pad, you just closed your eyes and let the sensations fill you. Something of his, you weren't quite sure what, playfully danced around the edges of your entrance until it found its mark. It gently flicked across that tender nub and your hips bucked in response. You held his neck plumage tighter, desperately tugging him closer to you.

"Keep going, that's— oh, that's perfect..." He didn't resist your pull. If anything, as his fuzz tickled you and his mandibles started to prod at your folds he increased his fervor. Relentlessly he played across all parts of you at once. Hard chitinous mandibles spread you open while his proboscis felt like it was everywhere. It rubbed your bead with every advance it made into you, filling you with a tingling warmth that spread throughout your whole body. He didn't let up at all, your breath hitching and leaving you as moans. You rocked your hips and whined. Harder and harder, rhythmically to a rapidly increasing tempo. You gripped him tighter, burying his face into you. Ecstasy built within your core with each surge of his "tongue" until you could hold on no longer.

"Oh, oh!" You cried, your body seizing and legs locking around his shoulders. Pleasure crackled around your whole body and there, in the dark with Desmond wordlessly working you, you weren't sure how much time you spent at the peak. Slowly, the sparks behind your eyes stopped flying. Your breath resumed its normal rhythm. Lifting your head off your sleeping bag, you made eye contact with his glowing red orbs, the only source of light under your tarp.

"How did I do?" He chittered, his grin smug enough for you to sense even in the darkness.

"You were fantastic." You indulged him, running your hand through his fuzz as he crawled over top of you. He pressed his forehead to yours.

"I didn't tire you out, did I?" He asked before descending upon you and kissing you lightly. With the gap between you two closed, you felt something tumescent and twitching under his shorts brush against you.

"I suppose I can stay up some more." You giggled as his fuzz tickled your collarbone. "I'll just sleep in."

"Glad to hear it." Desmond rasped. His voice grew ragged as he nipped at your neck, cradling your chin in one claw and using the other to undo his shorts. In the darkness, you could only feel something slick, smooth, and long come to rest on your belly. You squeezed your thighs around it. Desmond immediately chirred louder than before, sounding like a baritone version of the insects outside. His deep timbre resonated inside you.

"Excited?" You teased, his length completely at your mercy as you held it between your legs.

"I've forgotten how warm humans feel." He rumbled.

"Can I jog your memory?"

"Please."

You released him from your thighs and reached down with a hand. You felt the entirety of his length in your grasp; it was delightfully slick and uniform with pleasant little ridges to encounter as your hand traveled towards his base. You grasped it gently, eliciting more bassy chitters from him as you angled it towards your entrance. You fumbled a bit in the darkness, but after a few tries his tip rested at your threshold. His eyes met yours.

"Ready?" He clicked.

"Go ahead." You gripped his shoulders and pulled him close, nestling your face in his fluff as he started entering you. His hips slowly began to close the distance, each ridge on his length pushing a squeak out of you. His pace was deliciously slow. You had just enough time to adjust but not to catch your breath. All you could do was hold him tight in the darkness, nothing but the sensation and his chirring to occupy your mind. It felt like an eternity of slowly being filled by him. Eventually, cool chitin met your wet bundle of nerves, sending electric pleasure up your spine and forcing a gasp out of you.

"That's all of it." He grunted, his body completely flush with yours. "Do you feel alright?"

"Give me a moment." you said, exhaling sharply. The sensation of fullness with him hilted completely within you took your breath away. Little moans escaped you as his shaft quivered inside your depths. Embracing him, you found a steady breathing rhythm once more. "Okay, you can move."

With only chitters in response, he buried his head in the nape of your neck, his mandibles poking and prodding as he peppered you with kisses. His hardness withdrew just as slowly as when he entered you, then returned with a steady tempo. Each time his hips rocked you moaned into his fuzz. You imagined if you and Desmond had met at a different time or a different place, you'd be voicing your pleasures into a pillow. Since he had started his rhythmic thrusts, Desmond held a low, purring chirr that surged each time his pelvis met yours.

He chittered something specific, completely forgoing English as he picked up speed. He released your shoulders from his grasp. Changing position, he now kneeled upright with his knees on either side of your rear and his claws firmly gripping your thighs. The new leverage and angle made you squeal. He pumped in earnest now, both the speed and impact making you moan with nothing to stifle your voice.

"Desmond!" You cried, one hand splayed above your head and the other reaching down to hold your sensitive bead, "Keep going!" His pace remained constant. The low chirr grew into a growl. He pounded over and over, his hips slamming into your ass. As if it took considerable effort, he wrestled his chitters back into grunting speech you could understand.

"Close," he said sharply, "getting close!" You decided against speaking, instead locking your ankles behind him and rubbing your nub feverishly to meet him at the brink. His pace quickened even more. His claws squeezed your thighs as he desperately held onto you— into you, his thrusts remaining deeper inside you as they mounted in strength. His chirring returned, ascending in volume and pitch into a strangled, desperate call. His gaze snapped skyward and his back arched and he desperately pulled at your entire body in an effort to seat himself as deep within you as he could. You cried out in time with him. Your voice reached its limits. You rubbed yourself with abandon as you felt his cock fire within you with great trembling pulses. The pleasure within you mounted, growing until it erupted with a crackling warmth that left you quivering and crying out. He held himself as deep as he could go, grinding his hips into yours. Hissing, he lowered himself upon you once more and kissed you hard. You wailed into his mandibles as you rode out your peak. His hard chitin ground into your nub and held you at your limit before his rolling hips finally relented. Still, but remaining deep within you, he broke away from the kiss. You caught your breath as your eyes locked.

"Goodness..." You panted. Your face burned. Streaks of cool wetness rolled from your eyes down your cheeks. Desmond's chirring slowed into nothingness. The only sounds left were your breathing and nature outside.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his usual tone returning slowly.

"I'm great, Desmond," You smiled, "but you managed to tire me out this time." He clicked, then slowly withdrew his softening length from your sensitive core. You felt something ooze out of you, but were too exhausted to do anything about it.

"Sleep, please." He said, stroking your hair with a claw. "I'll be right here. Don't worry about anything else."

When morning arrived, the hole in the roof of your tarp acted as a skylight. You had awoken fortuitously just before the golden beam would have shone burning rays straight into your eyes. You definitely slept in, but found yourself fully clothed. You expected to feel something regretfully sticky and wet in your underwear, but you were completely clean. For a moment, you considered that last night might have been a dream. That line of thought was cut short by the sound of boiling water and the smell of coffee creeping into your tarp.

You emerged to find Desmond sitting in front of a small fire, emptying granules of instant coffee into a pot.

"Coffee?" He offered. "It'll be done in a bit."

"Thank you, Desmond." You sat in the same spot as you did last night over dinner. The silence that followed was comfortable and warm, unlike last night's awkward pauses. You watched him shake the pot with a claw as the sun warmed you. "I guess I should also thank you for, um, cleaning me up. I kinda passed out on you there. Sorry."

"No, no. It's fine. I'm nocturnal, remember?" He looked up at you and grinned. "It felt good to take care of a sleeping human again. It reminded me of old times." His grin softened into a gentle smile. The instant coffee had fully dissolved and he pulled the pot from the fire. He filled, then offered you an enamel mug which you accepted. The aroma was cheap and comforting.

"I'm going to miss you." You held the mug tightly. You didn't meet his eyes as you spoke, instead staring into the coffee as if it would tell you what to do.

"Me too." Desmond responded.

"Could we... could you..." You searched for the best way to ask. "Would you want to be with me?" Desmond released a slow chitter. He shook his head, and his soft smile shifted further into a shallow frown.

"I'm sorry." He said softly. "I wouldn't feel comfortable whisking you away three weeks after your breakup. Hell, I'm five months out from my own and I'm still not sure about where I am emotionally." You nodded in response. The coffee in your hands cooled in the resulting silence.

"I guess this is where we part ways, then." You sighed.

"Maybe..." He finally met your gaze. "You're hiking northbound. That means you'll finish in what, five more months?"

"Four if I hurry."

"The trail ends in Maine. There's this tiny, tiny town up there." He mused. "When you finish the trail, look for me around town. I'll be there. If you still want to be with me... then we could pursue a relationship like normal people. Coffee dates and stuff. If not... well, I'll buy you lunch."

"Is that another one of your movie references?" You chuckled. His plan sounded like something straight out of a cheesy rom-com.

"I'm serious." He explained. "My mom lives up there, and I've got nowhere else to be in four to five months."

"How am I supposed to find you?"

"I'm pretty sure the town population is in the double digits, and I'm definitely sure that me and my mom are the only mothpeople there." You considered his offer. It was all you had to look forward to, really.

"Let's shake on it." You extended a hand to him over the dying embers. He reached out to meet you, but then suddenly paused. "What's wrong?" You asked, a pang of fear striking you.

"I have one condition: when you inevitably run into my mom, our story has to be something other than, 'we met up on the trail and had sex after an embarrassingly short conversation and a camera flash,' okay?" You burst into laughter, as did he. He took your hand in his claw and shook enthusiastically.

"We have a deal." You answered. "Don't worry, I'll come up with something good."

"You better. You've got four-to-five months to craft it." He clicked. You smiled.

When you both finished your coffee, you gave him a hug and enjoyed the feeling of his neck fuzz on your cheek one last time. The fire had gone out, you packed up your tarp and sleeping bag, and you took a few steps north on the trail. You stopped soon after and turned, watching him go. He disappeared into the foliage. Sighing, you resumed your hike. To pass the time you talked to yourself.

"Ah, so nice to meet you, Mrs. Moth-mom. Yes, of course, we met at a pottery class."

No! Stupid.

"We were flying kites in the park, and ours got tangled up together—"

Now you sound like you're referencing sappy rom-coms.

You sighed. At least you'd have a while to come up with something convincing.

#monster x reader #lemon #male mothperson x female reader #mothman x reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster love #female reader

685 notes · View notes

vad-hander · 3 years

Text

JAEBEOM, THE GUY FROM THE BAR

Pairing: Jaebeom x reader

Genre: Series | Eventual Smut | Angst | Fluff

Warnings: break up, cheating, strangers to lovers, mentions of drinking

Words: 3.8k

You noticed Jaebeom get out of taxi the same moment you were walking towards the door of the designated cafe place. He seemed to not notice you, looking down into his phone, typing something with furrowed brows. You stopped next to the door, watching him go past you grabbing the handle of the door. You laid your hand on his shoulder roughly, and he turned quickly with a face expression that made you regret your sudden decision. He looked as if he’d hit you right until the moment he focused his vision on who grabbed him, noticing it was you.

“Jesus, I almost punched you.” he pushed the phone into his back pocket, shooting you a smile. His palm laid on the small of your back, rubbing it a few times, you tried to step closer thinking he’d hug you but he didn’t. You looked him in the eyes seeing him properly in the daylight for the first time. His Cupid’s bow upper lip attracted your attention even more now that the sun shone on it and you could see the light pink colour of his dried out lips. You held in a chuckle at the inner urge of getting your chopstick out to put it on his lips. You noticed how he wasn’t shaved neatly and you asked yourself if he looked that way all the time and you didn’t notice? Your mind for the first time crossed a thought that he looked … sexy?

Jaebeom’s clothes were baggier than they usually were and he seemed even wider in shoulders than before. You thought to yourself that it’d be thrilling to see him shirtless just to contain your curiosity but for starters you hoped that maybe he’d at least kiss your cheek as a greeting.

That’d be good enough too, it’d be good to dive in something that came to you naturally in general. You didn’t want to get another relationship in which you forced someone into. You internally hit yourself for thinking all these thoughts after just one drunk kiss and a couple of hangouts. You were doing it again, forcing yourself into something uncertain and unclear a day after you saw what all of it leads to.

Don’t force anything, don’t force him, you repeated like a mantra. Don’t do it like you did it with Jeno, don’t do it, you told yourself.

Fuck, Jeno. You thought how he still didn’t talk to you at all an killed every second thought in your head about him immediately.

Don’t think too much, don’t make any assumptions before Jaebeom says anything clearly. Go with the flow, do what feels right and don’t overthink.

Move, you commanded to yourself.

“Should we…” you began speaking when someone behind interrupted you.

“Excuse us.” Jaebeom moved you to the side by your elbow when the person asked for you two to free the way.

“Should we go in too?” you asked him when he let go of you.

“Yes, I’m starving.” he nodded, turning to open the door, for you to walk in first.

“Thank you.” you said shyly, walking in front of him.

“Let’s sit over there.” you felt his presence with your back, seeing him pointing to a table in the far corner. “It’s quiet there.” you nodded and walked over there immediately. “I’m so glad you actually texted me in the morning.” he said with a chuckle when the both of you sat down. His eyes ran through the menu while yours ran over his hands. Rings, the cold of which you felt on your cheeks before, were still present on his fingers. “Did you like anything?” he raised his eyes back to you, making you startled, forcing you unknowingly to quickly grab the menu. You heard him laugh at your actions, running your eyes through the menu to decide on anything but everything blurred out due to your embarrassment.

“I’ll have whatever.” you looked back at him.

“I’m not rushing, you can look at everything you wanted to and then pick food.” he smirked “But let’s be honest I need to take my clothes off for you to see.” a wide smile grew on his face and you guessed he was trying hard not to laugh. You opened your eyes wide in shock, trying to react calmly but the heat that ran to your face immediately opened to him your real feelings. Vivid pictures of him taking his clothes off changed one another in your head and the fact that you already saw his stomach made the images more realistic.

“Not funny.” was everything you found to say awkwardly.

“I’m sorry .” he looked back into the menu, when you heard the waitress come closer.

He made words get stuck in your throat with the way he spoke and acted, and you really regretted you didn’t down a drink before meeting him just to be more free. But then again, it’s not a good idea to only meet him drunk, sooner or later you’ll need to get help with that too. After the food began arriving it felt easier for you to speak and eat at the same time.

“That’s a relief, you seem to be doing good, with everything that happened.”

“You asked me out to make sure I won’t die alone? Sweet.” you turned your head to the side slightly.

“That’s actually my second intention.”

“And the first…?” you leaned in more on the table wondering if you pushed him too much once again.

“I just thought you wouldn’t want to see me after what we did, I do realise you were terribly drunk, I just wanted to see if I’m right.”

“There’s nothing… in what we did… we didn’t do anything that’s not appropriate… or what?” you suddenly realised what he probably meant “Did we…? You want to say we…?” you leaned in more, almost laying with your chest against the table. You tried to think how you got home or to bed, but the only thing you remember is how you kissed and then you took one more sip of the drink that completely blacked out your memory.

“The way you texted I thought you remembered…?” his eyebrows furrowed, spreading confusion over his face.

“I’m sorry.” you said, leaning back into the chair. Your hands grabbed your head in your arms. How could you not remember sleeping with someone at all? How could you not remember sleeping with HIM?

“I should be sorry, I knew you won’t remember anything, but you kind of begged and wrote on my arm.” he rolled up his sleeve showing you “I couldn’t resist then and kissed you, I’m sorry.” you grabbed his hand and read the same sentence you remembered you wrote. It was pretty washed out by now and you wondered to yourself why he didn’t get rid of it, but it wasn’t the main reason of your headache and you pushed it to the side.

“I remember the kiss, I don’t remember how we had sex.” you simply admitted, speaking lower in the ending.

“We didn’t have sex, what are you talking about?” his face got even more confused than before.

“We didn’t?”

“As far as I remember…”

“Jesus, you just made me believe I had sex and didn’t remember it, use your words properly, I almost experienced a stroke.” you wanted to slap his arm but he put it away from the table.

“I’m not that bad, at least you would’ve felt something even if you didn’t remember.” he sounded as if he was genuinely offended.

“You just helped me get home and left?”

“It’s not ‘just’. I forced you to get into my car, which trust me, wasn’t an easy job, then I had to carry you to your place, and only after one cup of water you became more or less alive and then you walked to your bed. I helped you out of your clothes with my eyes closed, tucked you in and left. That’s it, nothing else happened, you don’t have to worry.” he spoke as if it was an important story to remember.

“Sincerely, thank you. You didn’t have to do any of that but you still did. Thank you.” you told looking him in the eyes and he nodded, ticking almost an entire sandwich into his mouth at once. You silently watched him chew, hearing his phone ring. He quickly pulled it out and you guessed he was waiting for an important call with the speed he did it. His eyes ran over the screen and he declined the call, laying the phone on the table with the screen down. His eyes met yours and shot you a smile.

“I need to go to the restroom, will you be fine without me?”

“Yeah, sure.” you nodded, watching him get up and grab his phone.

You sighed, watching his back disappear around the corner. Your eyes ran over the place, focusing on the entrance. The door opened and you watched a man enter the cafe, moving your eyes further, until the thought of him being familiar hit your head and your eyes got back to the man that entered the cafe.

Jeno.

You turned back around, curling up in your seat hoping you disappeared from his view. Fear soaked you in to the point you stopped breathing and focused your eyes on the wall from which you thought Jaebeom is going to appear again.

You felt two hands wrap around your shoulders, knowing you failed miserably. Jeno’s lips touched your cheek and he let go of you, pulling in the chair from a nearby table to sit next to you.

“What you’re doing here?” you asked confused when he sat and looked at you.

“I came to see you.” his hand reached out to you and he tried to caress your cheek, and you pushed back quickly to not let him.

“How did you find me?”

“Your phone, you’re sharing your location with me.”

“Please go away.” you contained yourself, sounding as calm as possible.

“You’re still pissed?” he chuckled carelessly and tried to touch you again. Thoughts of him touching other girl with those same hands made you sick and you jumped up.

“I’m pissed!?” you exclaimed trying not to attract too much attention.

“Please don’t make a scene.”

“I’m not making a scene, I’m telling you to leave.” his head turned to the side of the table where Jaebeom previously sat.

“Come on, baby, don’t be pissed, it’s a mistake I won’t ever repeat. Let’s go home, I missed you.”

“Are you out of your mind?” you exclaimed moving back. You felt Jaebeom’s presence behind you, and tried to not act surprised when you felt his palms on your waist.

“Who’s that?” Jeno looked behind you, raising his eyebrows. “Is that the reason you wanted me to leave? Already found someone new to fuck?” his eyes trailed down onto where Jaebeom’s hands laid.

“No, that’s my friend. I don’t sleep with everyone I talk to.” you laid your hands on top of Jaebeom’s, moving them away “I guess this type of relationship is unknown to you.”

“Seriously? A friend? Him? I can’t believe you’re fucking someone when we didn’t even brake up.”

“What? Stop embarrassing me in front of people! You cheated! We’re not dating. Jeno, leave. Why did you come? What did you want to do? Kill every good memory I had left of you? Congrats, you succeeded!” you exclaimed feeling dry tears in your eyes.

“Don’t cry.” you heard Jaebeom’s quiet whisper. His hand grabbed yours to squeeze and you felt better from the simple gesture.

“No, I’m not crying, he don’t deserve my tears, that’s why they not even there.” you told Jaebeom, turning back to Jeno “There was a time I thought I almost loved you, thank God you showed your true self. You killed all of it, now, please just leave and don’t ever try to contact me, especially in that weird way.”

“Y/n, seriously? Don’t get influenced by that prick.” you felt Jaebeom’s fingers squeeze tightly over yours.

“It’s better for you to leave.” he spoke loudly.

“Oh, your new boyfriend have voice?”

“Jeno, leave.”

“Okay, okay, you two make a great couple of pricks. I anyway came just to tell you that I’ll throw your shit away if you won’t pick it up.” he stood up, throwing the chair back to where he got it from. “Dude, trust me, run, she’ll eat your brain out.” Jeno chuckled referring to Jaebeom.

“Your advice is very much not needed.” Jeno walked away, and Jaebeom turned you to face him, running his hands through your hands. “I leave you for 5 minutes and you get yourself in trouble?” he tried to make you smile. “How did he find out you’re here?”

“My phone is sharing location with him, but I honestly don’t know why he came… without warning as well?” you sighed hopelessly. “I’m sorry you had to go through this too, I’m deeply sorry you had to hear his stupid words.”

“You did well.” his hand rubbed your cheek, pinching it.

“You too.” you pinched his cheek in return and finally felt good. Jaebeom caught your hand when you were dropping it back down and lifted it back by the wrist, pecking the inside of your palm. “Stop.” you chuckled and pushed him away.

“I feel really bad now, I needed to tell you I have to go, but I saw you with Jeno and yeah…”

“I’m okay, you can go if you need to.” you played with your fingers.

“I’m sorry, a friend called me, it’s urgent, I really need to go.”

“I understand. You’re duty is to help everyone Do you by any chance have little wings on your shoulders?” you touched his back, jokingly trying to turn him to see.

“Your obsession with undressing me is getting out of hand today.” he caught your hands in his. “Tell me you’re free this Thursday?”

“It depends on time…” you were ready to accept his proposal anyway, but you guessed it’d be good to at least pretend you think about it.

“After 6?”

“Okay, I’m free.” you nodded after taking your time to think of your schedule.

“Great, I’ll be at your door at 6:30.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to take you to an exhibition.”

“Okaay.” you nodded and smiled.

“You don’t seem too keen?”

“Yay, Jaebeom, thank you so much.” you expressed excitement with clapping your hands like a seal.

“Cool.” he smiled and suddenly pecked your cheek. “I’ll pay and go.” he turned around calling the waitress.

“I’ll pay for myself.” you sat back down.

“You can transfer me the money later, she’ll take forever to separate the bill.” he seemed too in a rush and you agreed. “I thought we’ll just eat and then hang out, but it turned out to be all over the place.” Jaebeom stood up and leaned to you. “I’ll do my best to erase the memories from today on Thursday. I’ll make sure our date will be perfect.” his lips laid on your cheek, leaving it for a second only to kiss you once again.

“This was a date?” was all that came to your mind to ask.

“No, we won’t count it as one because it was messed up.” he smiled to you, and caressed your cheek. “I’ll see you.” he said and leaned in once more. You felt your eye-lids tremble for a few more seconds after he left, turning around to see him walk away.

You noticed through the glass-wall how he walked to a car in front of the entrance. You thought it was a taxi but doubted it after he sat on the front sit. You squinted your eyes, trying hard to see what he’s doing. Jaebeom leaned in to the driver and you saw how her hands wrapped around his shoulders. They hugged for so long if you were closer you’d be able to count every hair on her head by the time she let go of him. His head moved a little and you suddenly thought that they kissed. What if they kissed? The fear covered you suddenly and you turned away, closing your eyes. When you found strength to look back the car was long gone and you stood up too, walking back home.

Jaebeom didn’t text you even in the evening, and you laid in bed, scrolling through your meagre chat, hypnotising your phone for him to text you.

to: Jaebeom, the guy from the bar

“I hope everything went well with your friend ^^”

from: Jaebeom, the guy from the bar

“yup”

“thank you”

he replied immediately, did he talk with someone else right now?

to: Jaebeom, the guy from the bar

“about Thursday”

“can I wear casual clothes or it’s more of an official exhibit?”

from: Jaebeom, the guy from the bar

“wear whatever”

The smile ran down your face, because your sudden realisation that he didn’t care hit your head. He probably was still busy, busy with the girl he hugged in the car.

“if you’ll be too fancy you’ll stand out too much.”

“I’ll like anything but it’s more of a casual exhibit. I’ll be casual.”

to: Jaebeom, the guy from the bar

“okay”

“I’ll match”

from: Jaebeom, the guy from the bar

“Nah, no one’s a match to you”

to: Jaebeom, the guy from the bar

“I hope you meant it in a good way.”

from: Jaebeom, the guy from the bar

“I feel so bad about what happened today.”

to: Jaebeom, the guy from the bar

“come over? we can make it up for the day.” you typed slowly, thinking for a minute if you should hit sent or not. Your mind went blurry at the thought of Jaebeom coming to your place , or to your bed.

from: Jaebeom, the guy from the bar

“I really can’t come”

“why are you like this???”

to: Jaebeom, the guy from the bar

“what are you thinking…”

“it’s not that…”

from: Jaebeom, the guy from the bar

“then I’ll see you on Thursday.”

And you texted him a few more silly things, finally going to bed afterwards.

Closing your eyes you thought about the day you kissed once more. You ran through your mind multiple times how he kissed you, how his lips moved against yours. Then, you tried to imagine in your head from what he told you, how he carried you home and got you to your bedroom. Suddenly, you remembered something from that evening.

/You walked into your room, hearing Jaebeom’s steps behind you. You turned around almost hitting the bed with your knee.

“Ouch!” you exclaimed loudly.

“Let’s get you to bed before you kill yourself.” he chuckled and rested his hands on your waist, trying to make you sit down.

“You’ll sleep with me?”

“What?”

“Sleep with me.” you whined.

“Y/n, in the morning it can be awkward if we’ll wake up next to each other. I’ll go home.”

“Jaebeoma-a-h” you whined again and he sat you on the bed, kneeling in front of you. “Is it okay if I’ll call you Jaebeomah?”

“Yeah”. he chuckled and ran his fingers over your cheek.

“Want sex?” you suggested baldly, wishing that he’d maybe agree.

”Want what?” he laughed.

“Sex.” you said and Jaebeom’s hand left your cheek “with me.”

“I guessed that with you.” he laughed.

“No?”

“Let’s take you to bed.” he tried to stand up but your hand wrapped around his neck, unexpectedly for him pulling him towards you and crawling backwards so he weighs over you. Jaebeom found balance on each side of your head and pushed back when you tried to force him to kiss.

“Kiss me.” you cried, moving your hands from his neck to waist. Your body made a weird roll, making your lower parts touch. “Jaebeom, do you not feel it?”

“I do, honey, I do.” he switched his body weight to one hand, with the other running over your face. “If you’ll push any more we’ll make a mistake. I don’t want this to be a mistake. Let me just put you to bed.”

“Do you need me to write on your hand again? I want you.”

“Y/n please stop.” he sighed and lowered his face to yours.

“I can do anything.” you said referring to doing anything in bed.

“I’ll … I’ll go.” he sighed. Your hands grabbed his neck, forcing him to lower his head, putting all your strength to turn you two around. You straddled him and he didn’t protest even one bit physically. “Y/n… let’s not.”

“Why? You don’t like me? You don’t want me?”

“None of this, I just want you to remember all of it.” you fell onto the bed next to him, giving everything up. Something told you he won’t change his decision if he didn’t already. “Do you need help with changing clothes?”

“No.” you looked grumpy at him “Just turn away.”

“Okay.” he sat up and turned his back to you. You quickly took off the dress, diving into an oversized shirt.

“Done.” you told him so he could turn around. He stood up immediately, getting your blanket from the bed and silently telling you to lay. You did as he pleased, watching him put the duvet on top of you. He hovered over you, getting your faces close once again. “We already kissed what stops you from doing it once more?” you asked again, and Jaebeom run his tongue over his teeth in response.

He moved his head lower, staring intensely at your neck. You gulped not being used to that gaze, twitching when he lowered his lips onto your neck, leaving a fervent kiss. The skin under his lips burned and your insides squeezed under him. He kissed your neck again, and you gasped loudly letting him know on purpose that you liked it. You didn’t touch him just in case he’d disappear if you’d do so, and you just watched him stare at your neck again. His last kiss felt as if he burned a whole in your throat, making a move that made your heart drop down into your feet even though you were laying. He licked afterwards the spot that he kissed and casually moved back. “Bye, sleep tight.” he gave you a smile and stood up. You watched him walk out and close the door behind him and you passed out quicker than you could realise./

really didn't want to make you wait any longer, so posted without re-reading it! sorry, if you found any mistakes.

I hope you enjoyed reading this part! please let me know <3

#jaebeom #jaebeom smut #jay b #jaebeom fluff #jaebeom fanfiction #jaebum #im jaeboem #jaebom #got7 jb #jb fic #jb smut #jaebum smut #jaebum imagines #jaebum fluff #got7 #got7 jaebeom #got7 smut #got7 fluff

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not-using-this1 · 3 years

Text

Helping Bela dye her hair

I made a (crappy) Bela Dimitrescu oneshot because she’s bae and I’m in love with her :)

I had this headcanon that because Bela, Cassandra & Daniela obviously all had brunette hair in the picture of the castle demo they’ve dyed it (or something else happened but oh well) since then.

Bela got sick of having the same hair colour as her sister Cassandra (brunette) she wanted her own style...to which she asks you (her girlfriend) to help her with along with Daniela to dye hers ginger...with a mix of blood in it.

Yes I made it so Bela and Daniela could go out in the daylight (I prentended those jewels on their chokers protect them lmao)

Pairings: Bela Dimitrescu x fem!reader

You welcomed yourself into castle Dimitrescu as usual and wuld of hoped that your girlfriend Bela would be there in the main hall sat on the sofa waiting. But, she wasn't which made you think she was either going to jump out at you for fun. "Bela I know you're hiding." You shout as it echoes through the main hall.

You hear a laugh, and just like that she appears in front of you. You expected blood to be around her mouth from feeding (since shes a vampire) she wasn't even wearing her usual outfit, rather she was wearing a corset top and black jeans but with her usual choker with the red jewel placed inside it. "What? You didn't think I'd clean up for my own girlfriend?" Bela chuckles.

"No, it's not that it just looks like your going somehwere" you add. She gives you a small smirk and presses a kiss to your lips "I want to dye my hair blonde, so I thought I'd go out to get some".

You weren't surprised she wanted to change her hair but blonde? You thought she would go for something darker "and where would you get it in the village? If you asked me I would've happily gone to buy you some from the store in the town I go to" you replied.

Bela shrugged her shoulders at you "Well I just made the decision now, do you think we could drive there? I know it's daylight but I'm not exactly gonna burn, the jewel in my choker doesn't allow that" You nodded your head at your girlfriend and agreed.

"Yes! Okay lets go!" She seemed so enthusiastic and to be honest those moments of her like that are rare; Bela had always struggled with her emotions to the point people think she hasn't gotten any...but you know that isn't true.

The good thing was that it wasn't morning or even the afternoon, it was rather that the sun was setting and besides the store would be open still anyway. Bela had grabbed your hand, pulling you to the large castle doors.

"Hi Y/n, Bela where are you going?" Daniela popped up out of nowhere which made you jump slightly. She chuckled at your small action as se confronted you and her sister. When you first met Daniela she was closed off anf very quiet half the time but now, the two of you actually get along very well. "I want to dye my hair blonde, y/n is taking me to the store to get some dye" Bela explained, she just wanted to hurry up and go.

"Oh cool! Can I come? I've wanted to dye my hair red...but with a twist. If you guys get me blonde hair dye and I mix it with blood-"

Bela and you laughed at her but Daniela seemed very serious "Why don't you just buy red dye? Problem solved Whats with the blood being added?" You asked her. "Uhh because it's more fun that way?" She shrugged her shoulders.

Honestly, you stopped questioning Daniela a while ago. You looked at Bela as if to ask for approval to bring Daniela. She rolled her eyes at you and sighed "Ugh fine you can come".

~~~

During the car ride, you had played some music which Daniela and Bela kept belting out. You honestly loved that they were just so normal in these situations even if they're not normal whatsoever.

You were just happy you could show Bela what its like to have fun outside of the other...activities she does (aka being a vampire). As you stopped the car in the store, Daniela wasted no time in getting out of the car to go into the store so much that you and Bela had to stop her.

"Dani, stay here and look after the car. We'll be back and maybe get you a treat" Bela adds to which Daniela sighs and stomps her foot a little before getting back in the back seat "More blood?" she cheekily questions.

"No, Dani. We'll be back soon." You add.

For the most part the reason you left her in the car was because she was wearing what she usually does. Of course you wouldn't mind her walking around with the both of you if only she didn't have blood stains on it.

Bela offered you her hand and the two of you just walked hand in hand to the store. Going over to the part of the store that has beauty and hair products. Bela looked quite overwhelmed that and the fact she had never really been out of her village much at all or to a large store like this. Of course she knew of these things though, she knew what every item was...shes been alive for centuries and has adapted well to changes.

"There's the blonde you'd probably look best in" you pointed her into the direction of dirty but light blonde box dye, she already had a platinum blonde one in her hand but she grabbed the other and put them beside her.

"Which one babe?" she asked you, as if you were some sort of expert on these things. Yeah, you've dyed your hair many times it's currently h/c (your hair colour) which you loved. "Since you have a pale complection I'd go for the light dirty blonde, you'd look so hot" those last words slipped out of you but Bela smirked. Putting back te platinum blonde dye "Daniela can have the same then" she adds.

As you were walking to another aisle as you wanted something for yourself, Bela had grabbed your hand because this guy kept ogling you just because you were wearing a skirt, fishnet tights and a casual t-shirt.

Of course your girlfriend was going to get possessive, she had practically pulled you into her and kissed you in front of everyone who was down that aisle...but you didn't mind one bit and kissed her back.

"He was eyeing you up and down, ugh men disgust me." Bela replies. You wanted to make a joke about her saying that even though she was bisexual but you left it and agreed. After paying for everything you both headed back to the car which all you could hear was rock music from.

"Oh god whats she doing" you laugh.

"Daniela! Daniela!" Bela shouts as the two of you get back in your car, you turn the music down and Daniela gives you an unamused look.

~~~

After a small argument between Bela and her sister Daniela about whose bathroom they'd do it in you settled the argument by saying that they should just use the bathroom down in the main hall. Daniela had collected the blood and mixed it in with the blonde and it turned an actual nice red, so you decided to help her first.

"Daniela, you need to stay still, it'll go everywhere if you don't" you explained. "The blood is already everywhere on the damn floor mother is going to kill us. Not to mention my girlfriend clearly likes spending time with my sisters more than me" Bela pouted, you rolled your eyes at her and plafully punched her arm a little "you get me all to yourself tonight, now help."

During this entire commotion Cassandra had came back up from the cellar and decided to help you, while you helped Bela with her dye Cassandra washed off Daniela's in the tub with the shower after it set for a good hour.

When everything was finally done both Bela and Daniela had new hair but the bathroom...oh that was an absolute tip. You were sure one of the maids would come clean it up...but then.

"Girls I'm home." Alcina shouts as she walks through the doors, she spots you and igves you a small smile "hello Y/n" she greets.

"mother" all three girls say from the bathroom she walks over to them with the biggest shock on her face "Bela, Daniela what did you do?" she didn't sound very pleased.

"We dyed our hair, Y/n took us to a store, so it was really her-" Bela slapped her sisters arm really hard to cut her off from her sentence "it wasn't Y/n's fault mother" She then finishes.

Alcina sighs "no it wasn't Y/n's fault but you are all going to clean this up right now."

"But mother the maids-"

"Now! You too Cassandra, also Y/n" she adds before leaving to her room.

"Great, fantastic" you all say in unison.

Help this was terrible, why did I write this ughhh :(

#bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu x fem!reader #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela is such a bae #please i love them all #My writing #bela is my gf

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rin-bellatrix · 2 years

Text

Quackity's first instinct when Wilbur settled his glasses over his own face, was to lash out and sock the tall bastard in the mouth. Because an arch rival invading his personal space was reason enough for his defense mechanisms to kick in. But Wilbur immediately took a step back after making sure his pair of spectacles were placed correctly over the smaller man's face. Not a moment later, the glasses slid down the bridge of Quackity's nose and he instinctively pushed them back up to glare at their owner through the lenses.

"The fuck is this about?" The younger man mumbled, gesturing with a pointed hand to own his face, where the other man's eyewear was perched.

Wilbur stood there in silence for a moment, staring at the shorter man wearing the glasses that belonged to him. Taking in the imagery of a disgruntled but confused Quackity, wearing something of his, was something Wilbur wanted to remember for a long time.

But for now, he smiled as his ongoing silence in the wake of Quackity's question made the smaller male's eyebrows furrow in irritation. "I don't need them right now, I can see the sunrise just fine like this..."

Frowning even deeper in confusion, Quackity tilted his head as if doing so would somehow make older man's words make sense. "You must be on something, maybe ate too many shitty hamburgers from that disease ridden excuse of a food truck you got." Scoffing in amusement, he shook his head, lifting an arm to point to the east side of the map. "The sun is rising over there, you complete imbecile. God, even kids know that kind of basic shit."

But Wilbur kept his eyes solely on Quackity, watching him with something akin to amused affection. "No. No, ya see, that sunrise doesn't matter to me, because it's not the one I want. The one I want is right here," he confessed, reaching out to tuck some of the younger man's inky black hair away from his bespectacled face. "You're the one that I want, Big Q..."

The shorter male felt the hot blush burning his face, and the presence of Wilbur's glasses on his nose grew suddenly heavier, or at least the weight of them became more significant as he tried to calm the pounding of his heart. Struggling to find his voice under the intensity of Wilbur's stare, Quackity managed to fight off enough of his embarrassment to get out a broken "W- what are you saying man?"

The taller man smiled gently down at his frenemy, treasuring the sight of a stuttering yet stubborn Quackity whose blush rivaled the growing pink of the coming dawn. He took a step forward, and then another one, standing chest to chest with the smaller male, looking down at him as Quackity - who refused to back down - stared right back through his glasses.

"What I'm trying to say, you obtuse little duck, is that you are my sunrise," Wilbur whispered, as the daylight broke across the land and over the two friends who were sometimes enemies.

"That's- Well-" Quackity cleared his throat, trying his best to find his usual sass. The voice of reason in the back of his mind told him to back away from the clutches of this unstable and unpredictable man, but its volume was very low and almost mute in the face of what this was leading up to. "That's pretty fuckin gay," he chuckled, but the blush on his cheeks lessened the sting of his words.

"Yeah," Wilbur murmured, somehow coming even closer. "Yeah, it is. Kinda the point, since I'm gonna kiss you and all."

"Oh..."

"Yeah..."

Quackity could feel the frantic beating of his heart, his pulse thumping wildly in his throat as Wilbur tilted his head and leaned down. The tips of their noses brushed and the shorter man grumbled out a soft "Bastard..." before their lips met in a sweet and gentle kiss.

☆☆☆

I learned that wilby calls q his "sunrise" and I forgot how to act lol 🤪 Also I just wanted to see Quackity wear something of Wilbur's 🤷🏽‍♀️

©rin-bellatrix 2021

☆ main masterlist ⋆ dream smp masterlist ☆

#quackbur #tntduo #tnt!duo #tnt duo #quackity #wilbur #wilbur soot #minecraft #video games #rin's fic #dream smp #dsmp

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dragonsareourfuture · 3 years

Text

Death Note/GN!Reader — Pick Up Lines

A quick little scenario in which your Death Note sweetheart uses a terrible pick up line on you! I feel as though these all kinda suck since I write this a while ago but it’s fine. It’s fine.

Mello

Staying up late every night and watching security footage was not fairing well for Mello. Dark circles started to form underneath his eyes, and you pointed out that he was turning into L, all he needed was black hair and a haircut. He simply responded “The day I cut my hair short is the day the world ends.”

Usually when Mello got tired he would turn into a grumpy, adorable gremlin but, mixed with the excessive amount of chocolate he consumed due to boredom, he had turned loopy. Matt had relied on his headphones to keep him sane, whereas you were left with no escape from the babbling blond.

Mello rambled on and on about how he was going to beat Near with every fiber of his being, slowly getting sidetracked into a conversation about sheep.

“They’re so fucking fluffy. Standing around, eating grass, taunting me.” The blond mumbled, his head resting on your lap as you stroked his hair, listening with genuine interest.

“Mhmm, how do they taunt you?” you inquired, wanting to know more before your boyfriend fell asleep and you never got to find out why he felt so threatened by white, fluffy animals.

“They just...do .”

“Well, I’ll always keep you safe from the mean, mean sheep.”

Mello shifted so that he was gazing up at you. He lifted his hand to your face and gently smacked your cheek with his palm, rubbing his tired eyes with the other hand.

“Aw, babe you’re so sweet when you talk like that... You make me melt like chocolate in the summer~ ”

“I do what?”

Before Mello could answer, unconsciousness grasped him and pulled him down into the dimension of sleep. You sighed, disappointed that you wouldn’t get to hear more, yet also relieved that Mello could finally get the sleep that he needed.

“G’night, Mels,” You whispered, brushing his bangs to the side and kissing his forehead, “You make me melt, too.”

Matt

Matt’s been acting strangely clingy all day. As soon as you noticed this fact, you immediately figured that it was an anniversary or either one of your birthdays and it had slipped your mind. However, upon further inspection of your phone calendar, today appeared to be nothing special.

You were seated on the couch, watching a bit of television while Matt washed the dishes. You had insisted that you could handle that task yourself, but the goggle-wearing sweetheart had insisted that you relax.

Suddenly you heard the sink turn off and footsteps lead up to the couch. You turned around to see the redhead wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind.

“Hey, I lost my phone number...can I have yours? ” He asked with a sly smile.

“Matt, you have my number. Is that a pickup line? You know we’re already dating, right? Is my number not working?” You interrogated, grabbing his phone from the coffee table and calling your cell from it to ensure that your phone number still worked.

“No- it’s... you’re supposed to go along with it!”

“Well, come up with a better one next time, dumb ass,” You tossed Matt’s phone back at him, the device landing in his lap. He pouted and shoved it into his jacket pocket, getting up to return to the kitchen.

“You’re no fun.”

The room grew dim and increasingly empty as the hours ran further into the day, eventually turning to night. Despite the signs that you should be on your way home, you stayed with the only detective who thought it appropriate to work into the ungodly hours of the night.

You glanced over at L, back turned to you with his nose practically pressed against the computer screen. You rolled your eyes and switched on the main light of the room, saying, “You’re gonna ruin your eyes reading in the dark like that.”

L did not respond but, at the looks of it, kept on reading the minuscule words on his screen with intent.

“Do you need anything? Water? Maybe some cake?” You asked, giggling at the end of your words for no other reason than the tiredness getting to your brain.

“No, thank you. I already have you, and you’re sweeter than cake, anyway,” L droned matter of factly, not even tearing his eyes away from the luminescent screen.

“Awww! Oh my god, L!” You squealed, running up to L and enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug.

“Ah...(name), I c-can’t breathe...”

Near

You could practically hear the blood flow to your brain as you spun around in a desk chair at painful hours of the night. The screens that filled the SPK headquarters shone in your eyes, keeping you awake along with the unhealthy amounts of caffeine you had consumed.

Your white haired boyfriend sat crouched on the floor by your feet. The clicking of building blocks rang throughout the otherwise empty room as he stacked them on top of one another, paying no mind to anything else.

You sighed, placing your chin on the palm of your hand and deflating on the spot. No amount of caffeine could keep you here as late as Near always stayed, no matter how much you wanted it to. You hated that he was here alone all the time and, even though he always tried to convince you that he didn’t care, you knew it took a toll on his mental state.

You shifted in your chair, about to heave your body up when Near’s monotonous voice kept you still.

“(Name).”

You waited for him to continue, and spoke up when he stayed silent, “What’s up, babe?”

“Do you like LEGO ?” Near inquired. His eyes finally met yours as he twirled a LEGO piece in between his fingers.

“Uh, I guess—“

“Because I want to build a world with you... ”

You froze, wondering if the caffeine was getting to your head or if Near had actually used a pickup line on you — and a goddamn adorable one at that.

A weak smile tugged at your lips. You slid off the office chair and dropped to your knees on the cold tile beside Near, throwing your arms around the boy without another word.

Though he stiffened at first, Near melted under your embrace. He buried his face into your shoulder and wrapped his noodle arms around your torso. You stayed like this for either a minute, or an hour. It was so quiet that you could hear your hearts beating in sync. Everything was so perfect, so loving, so-

“ARE YOU GUYS STILL HERE!?”

Your heart nearly burst from your chest at the sound of a door banging against metal and the rough tone of Rester calling out to you.

Near grumbled and shoved his face into your neck, trying and failing to escape the booming echo of footsteps that approached your little heap on the floor.

“Yeah,” your voice came out ragged and small, but enough for Rester to hear and follow, “right here.”

“You both look exhausted! Come on, let’s get you to sleep.”

When Near barely moved a muscle, you took it upon yourself to pick up his limp body from the floor bridal style and carry him to bed. Though you almost dropped the poor boy more than once, you’d say you did a fairly good job. And, once you were both snuggled up in bed, you got a good nights rest of a solid three hours of sleep. It was the most Near’s gotten in weeks, so you were not complaining.

Light

Though you were already in a relationship with Light, the cheesy lines and swooning from him never ceased. You wouldn’t have to fend him off with a stick but he loved to be all over you even when he already won you over, and you loved that about him.

This was mainly exhibited when you two were alone together, him finding public displays of affection to be childish and overall unnecessary as everyone you hung around with at school respected your relationship quite nicely.

The two of you were strolling on the sidewalk after a headache inducing day of school. His arm was resting lazily over your neck as you walked while all attention was focused on you and you alone. You ranted about the difficulties of the day and, although they were mostly all minor inconveniences, they really got under your skin once all added up.

When you had finished, you huffed and rubbed at your temple.

Breaking the silence that followed, Light blurted, “How would you like to be the goddess of the new world? You wouldn’t have to deal with that crap anymore.”

You laughed, reaching up to lace your fingers with the hand that dangled by your shoulder. “Dude, I barely know what taxes are. I don’t think I can handle being a goddess.”

“Aw, that’s a shame,” Light pouted jokingly.

The two of you came to a stop in front of his house, him pulling you flush against him and just staring wistfully (up/down) at you. “Do you want to come in? I’m sure Sayu will be delighted to see you.”

“Oh, I’d love to but I don’t want to intrude—“

“Nonsense. Come on.”

And so, Light guided you into his home, his mother and Sayu cheerfully greeting you at the door and whisking you away into a night of wonderful conversation and a lovely dinner.

Matsuda

You took advantage of the daylight, working nonstop so that you wouldn’t have to stay after hours to get your unfinished work done.

Through your tireless efforts, you failed to notice a pair of familiar eyes glancing back at you every so often. You only noticed a change in your boyfriend’s behavior when he came rolling up to your desk in his wheely chair, resting his chin on his elbows and looking at you expectantly.

“Hey, what’s up, Teddy Bear?” You greeted, barely tearing your eyes from the papers splayed out all across your desk.

Matsuda grinned from ear to ear every time he heard that nickname. It made him feel wanted and loved whenever he was around you. Sometimes, this caused the filter between his brain and his mouth to thin, allowing whatever he’s thinking in that moment to slip out.

“Do you have a map? Because I’m getting lost in your eyes... ” he said dreamily.

Your head shot up in an instant, puzzled by the seemingly random affection, only to see Matsuda covering his lips as a dark blush began to rise on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Th-that’s not...I-“

“Honey...” you shook your head and sighed, placing your pen down flat on the desk, “That is the literal worst line ever but it sounds wonderful coming from you.”

“O-oh. Thanks?” He chuckled nervously, massaging the back of his neck as his skin became slick with sweat.

You leaned over the desk and pecked his lips before collecting your paperwork in a neat stack, placing it all carefully in your shoulder bag, careful not to bend any corners. “Why don’t I finish my work in that nice little coffee shop across the street. Join me?”

“Y-yes! I’d love to. It’s getting a little stuffy in here, anyway.”

Misa

“Ughhhhh I’m so tired! What a day!” Misa exclaimed, stretching out her arms above her head as she walked over to her folding chair. The white, feathery wings fastened to her back smacked people and equipment as she passed them, but you saw her as nothing but elegant.

Your girlfriend plopped her butt down into the fragile chair, giving Matsuda a scare when it nearly toppled over. With beads of sweat trickling down his forehead, he handed the girl her coffee.

“Aw, thanks, Matsu! And you too, (Name)! I wouldn’t be able to do any of my scenes without you guys cheering me on!”

You chuckled, cheeks turning a dusted shade of pink at Misa’s praise. “Dont give us all the credit, babe. You’re the one giving your all up there.”

Misa twisted in her chair to grab at your hand and intertwine her fingers with yours. “You’re too sweet, honey! Y’know, if it were up to me, you’d be the one wearing these wings!”

“Oh, I don’t know, I couldn’t take your place!” You said, gesturing to the fountain where Misa’s scene had just been filmed.

The blonde giggled and brought your fingers to her lips, giving them a couple kisses before shaking her head. “I meant I’d have you in these wings because you’re an absolute Angel , silly!”

Before you could even begin to respond, Matsuda beat you to it. “Aww my gosh, you guys! Could I be the best man at your wedding?”

“Hmm...” you pretended to ponder while tapping your chin with your index finger. “How do you feel about being the flower boy?”

“Done!”

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nugnthopkns · 3 years

Text

whatcha say we just get away?

word count: 6.5k

warnings: explicit fem!reader, marriage, cursing, fleeting mention of future children, some kinda cheesy wedding tropes

recommended listening: side effects | jade bird

a/n: the idea of a big wedding scares the living daylights out of me so i wrote about eloping with tk :))

When Travis asks you to marry him, you think he’s joking.

The two of you are standing in the kitchen piecing together lunch. It’s a sunny Tuesday in Port Stanley, and Travis wants to take you out on the boat this afternoon.

“What if we got married?” he says casually, putting the finishing touches on his sandwich.

You shrug it off and continue chopping vegetables. “You’re hilarious. Got an upcoming audition with SNL?”

Travis doesn’t seem to like your response. He bumps your shoulder gently. “I’m serious.”

“This isn’t a joke?” you ask, setting down the knife and turning to face him. “You want to marry me?”

He nods and rests his hands on your hips. “I’m absolutely positive. Will you marry me?”

No words come from your open mouth. Not wanting him to think you’re saying no, you nod your head vigorously. Travis’s laugh echoes off the small kitchen, bringing you back to earth slightly. His right thumb rubs comforting circles on your hip bone. Overcome with love for Travis, you curl your arms around his neck and pull him down to meet your lips.

The kiss is passionate but incredibly soft. You both hold so much love for each other and do your best to convey it in the small gesture. Time passes you by, but you don’t mind. If you could kiss Travis forever you would. Eventually he pulls away for air but doesn’t let you go. Resting his forehead on yours he asks another question. “Is that a yes?”

You find your voice. “Of course you idiot!”

His smile lights up his entire face and it makes him look much too young to be betrothed. You suppose he is, that you both are – under twenty-five with your whole lives in front of you. However, you know that Travis is it for you. No one compliments you like he does, and no one ever will. Travis loves you wholly and without hesitation, and you hope he can see you feel the exact same way.

“Fuck,” Travis groans, and it makes you arch your brow. “I don’t have a ring,” he explains. “I didn’t think I’d get the balls to suggest it or that you would say yes.”

A laugh bubbles over your lips as you shake your head. “I could care less baby,” you insist. “We don’t need rings to show how much we love each other.”

The two of you stand in the kitchen a while longer, kissing languidly and basking in the deeper level of love that comes with devoting your lives to one another. Lunch is long forgotten as you get ready for your afternoon adventure, but you remember to grab it on your way out the door. The drive to the water is almost identical to every single other time, spent singing along to the radio and laughing at the terrible impressions Travis tries to orchestrate, except this time your smiles are brighter and the sideways glances are sweeter.

For being a beautiful day in a community of mostly retired people, the waters of Lake Erie are scarcely populated. The two of you essentially have the kilometres of coastline to yourselves, which feels like a sign from the universe to enjoy the newest honeymoon phase of your relationship. It’s so nice to spend an abundance of time with Travis in the summers, and it almost makes up for all the time you spend alone throughout the winter months. You let him navigate the boat wherever he wants, laying across one of the plush leather benches with your eyes closed. Occasionally, when Travis hits a wave a little too head on, water sprays gently over your face but you don’t mind. Truthfully, it offers a short respite from the heat of the sun’s rays.

While you lounge your mind begins to wander to what your wedding will look like. Large crowds have always made you uneasy – you aren’t like Travis in that regard, able to feel comfortable in whatever environment you may be placed in. The idea of a small wedding is nice, but the two of you know too many people and pointedly not inviting a large number of them fills you with anxiety. Feelings would get hurt, people upset they can’t fight for a minute of your big day, and you’ve heard horror stories about wedding guest lists ending friendships. You also know your mother will want to have input in almost every decision, from bridesmaids dresses to cake flavours, and that’s not something you’re sure you can handle. Suddenly marrying Travis is a lot scarier a concept.

You realize that these are ridiculous thoughts to be having. You got engaged less than three hours ago – there’s no reason for you to immediately start planning the event. For Christ’s sake, you don’t even have a ring yet. Regardless, your mind replays your fears on a constant loop. All you can do to quell the storm in your mind is sit and focus on the taut muscles of Travis’s shoulder blades.

“Now that we’re engaged you’re just going to ignore me?” Travis jokes, dropping the anchor and making his way over to you. He had pulled into a small bay, mostly out of view from the public and hard to find, so the two of you could swim and enjoy each other’s company in peace.

You shoot him a pointed look, and he immediately understands there’s something lying beneath the surface.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

It’s stupid to be stressing over thing so soon, but you can’t stop. You wonder if you’re even going to be able to go through with the wedding seeing you’re already so worked up about it. Travis kneels in front of you, hand on your knee as his eyes meet yours through two pairs of sunglasses. “No judgement here sweetheart. Say whatever’s on your mind.”

You know he’s being sincere. There’s never any judgement from Travis. No matter how dumb a statement or how terrible a fashion choice he never thinks any less of you. “I was just thinking, well overthinking, about the wedding,” you mumble. “And I know it’s stupid because we have nothing planned and don’t have rings but I can’t stop myself from stressing over it. I legitimately don’t know if I can plan a wedding.”

“That’s quite possibly the farthest thing from stupid,” he insists. “It’s a valid thing to be worried about. Honestly, I don’t know if I want to take the heat for not doing things the way others think they should be done. But we have so much time to figure everything out.” Travis pushes himself off the ground and slides into the seat beside you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and places a peck to the crown of your head.

“I think that’s part of the issue Trav. We won’t get married until next summer, which is fine, but I’m going to have so much time to overthink every single decision.”

Travis doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, he grasps your left hand in his and raises it to his lips. The kiss he presses to your ring finger, where the engagement ring would be if you had one, sends shivers down your spine. It’s a simple gesture, sweet and to the point, but it grounds you. No matter what happens, the two of you will face it together hand in hand.

The water is cold when you eventually get in, but it’s refreshing and allows you to relax. You do more floating than serious swimming, watching as Travis swims laps around the small area you’ve claimed as your own. “Can’t even take a break from training now that we’re engaged?” you ask, throwing him the same jab he gave hours ago.

“Gotta stay fit for the big day,” he pants, obviously tired from trying to up his endurance level. “Holy fuck, I’ve swam nearly three kilometres since we got in.”

You’re wickedly impressed and have half a mind to challenge him to keep going, to see how far he can go, but you can tell his energy is fading. Pretty soon he’ll be ready to fall asleep and you can’t drive the boat. Not wanting to be stuck on the lake overnight, you speak. “Let’s get you home there cowboy. I’ll drive once you park this damn boat.”

The rest of the night is quiet. Once back on dry land, you take control of the reins, jumping into the driver’s seat before Travis can protest. You stop to pick up dinner from a small pizzeria on the main street before continuing to the modest cottage you call home in the summer months. It’s all Travis can do to keep his eyes open on the ride home, and as soon as he finishes his pizza he’s asleep on the couch, head resting heavy in your lap.

You card your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at the scalp as you read your book. While you were in school you didn’t have much time to read for pleasure, so since graduating you’ve been trying to catch up. You graduated nearly two years ago and still haven’t made it through your to be read shelf, but it isn’t for lack of trying. It seems that new books constantly find a home there and the three books a months you average isn’t cutting it. Maybe one day when you retire you’ll be able to make a serious dent.

It’s silent while Travis sleeps, but you find it comforting. There’s nothing to distract you from the fictional world playing out on the pages, and you lose the anxieties you’ve felt simmering since thinking about your very distant wedding. When Travis wakes up an hour later you’ve finished your book and are staring at the ceiling.

“You could have gotten up to grab another,” Travis murmurs, voice laced with sleep.

You shrug. “Didn’t want to wake you. Plus I just wanted to think about some things, how I want to tackle the next year.”

Travis frowns, and you can tell he’s regretting asking the question because you’re so obviously worked up.

“I know what you’re thinking, babe,” you say to comfort him. “And you’re wrong. There’s nothing I want more in the world than to marry you. I just didn’t realize how hard it was going to be to do things without pissing off half the people we want to invite.”

You slowly peel away from him, holding out a hand and smiling when he takes it. The two of you retire to your bedroom, and get ready in silence. You know Travis is still mulling things over, and quite honestly, you are too. Preparing to get married, no matter how far away the day might be, is a lot. After brushing your teeth and washing your face you settle into Travis’s open arms, tracing over the tattoos that call his bicep home. Travis unwinds in his own way, twirling a lock of your hair around his index finger.

“What if we eloped?”

This question is as sudden as when he asked you to marry him in the first place. Your hand halts its actions immediately, moving to his chest so you can push yourself up to look at him. “You’re serious?”

He nods enthusiastically, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Dead serious. I know you’ve never wanted a big wedding,” he says. That much is true. You’ve never enjoyed being the center of attention, and the idea of more than twenty people watching your every move has you freaking out. “You’re so stressed already about pleasing everyone that I’m worried you won’t be able to enjoy it when the day actually comes. And to be quite frank, I could give less of a shit about the ceremony or reception. All I want to do is marry you because I love you. So let’s get rid of the things we think we have to do and just do it our own way.”

A single tear slides down your cheek. You can’t help it – you’re so relieved he’s willing to do whatever would make you the most comfortable, even if it means sacrificing something as important as a proper wedding. “That would be perfect.”

Travis kisses you for what might be the millionth time today but you do not care. His lips are soft against yours and make you feel safe and warm. Nothing goes too far as you’re both just enjoying the thought of such a special moment being between just the two of you.

“I was also thinking we could do it this week,” he says casually, as if no work has to go into this because you’re eloping.

You sit up immediately. “Pardon?” you ask shocked. “Trav, just because we aren’t going to have a wedding doesn’t mean we can just do it whenever we please. We need to get a marriage license and make an appointment at the courthouse.”

“It’s the middle of summer and we live in an area where the youngest people other than us are like fifty, I think things will come together pretty quickly.”

It’s hard for you to argue with his logic. Travis has a point – the chances of other people trying to get married in the next few days is very slim. The idea doesn’t sound horrible either, getting to marry the love of your life as soon as possible. You agree to look into things in the morning and fall asleep curled into Travis’s chest, his arms secure around you.

Wanting to get married within the week turns out not to be a problem. After Travis completes his morning workout the two of you travel the short distance to the courthouse to get a marriage license. It’s incredibly easy, each of you only needing to provide two pieces of identification, and while you’re there you pick a time slot for your civil service. You’ll be back at the building in two days, next time walking out as a married couple.

“See, it was so easy,” Travis says, bumping your hip with his own on the way back to the truck.

“Fuck off,” you grumble. No matter how hard you try you can’t find it within yourself to be mad at him. You’re incredibly excited, and are actually glad you don’t have to wait very long. It would have been a pain to wait a whole twelve months.

The next order of business in ‘planning’ your wedding is finding two witnesses. You would have had no problem asking Travis’s parents, but they’re currently on a vacation to the east coast. The idea of phoning your mother and asking her to book a flight to attend a wedding she didn’t get a say in makes you nauseous, so it’s completely out of the question. Port Stanley might be small, but you and Travis are only there a few months out of the year and don’t know anyone besides your next door neighbours. Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson are an adorable eldery couple you invite over for dinner every week.

Travis agrees that you should include them, and as soon as you get home the two of you are knocking on their door, pitcher of lemonade in hand.

“Oh hello dears,” Mrs. Stevenson coos. “This is such a nice surprise. Richard is out on the back patio, come join us.”

You smile at the older lady and follow her through the modest cottage. The walls are covered in photos from family trips and graduations – you hope one day you and Travis’s will look the same. Once in the backyard the four of you settle into comfortable conversation, sipping lemonade and enjoying the sunshine. Ever the hockey fan, Mr. Stevenson asks Travis about the upcoming season, and they chat while you rise to help bring snacks to the small table.

After a while, the conversations lull and Travis is able to bring up what you came over for. “Do you guys have any plans for Friday morning?” he asks casually, popping a slice of red pepper into his mouth.

“Not that I can think of,” Mr. Stevenson says. “Can you think of anything Dottie?”

His wife shakes her head. “Nothing comes to mind. What’s the matter?”

Suddenly you’re nervous, and entwine your fingers with Travis’s to ground yourself. He squeezes gently, a gesture of encouragement that has you able to find your voice. “We were wondering if you could do us a favour,” you begin, “And be the witnesses at our wedding? We have an appointment at the courthouse at eleven-thirty.”

It’s silent, and you’re petrified they’re going to say no. You turn to look at Travis, who looks just as apprehensive as you. His grip on your hand tightens and all you can do is wait for a response.

“We would be honoured,” they exclaim at the same time, and you let go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. It’s settled – you have all the components for the paperwork, which means you can legitimately and legally get married. You’re absolutely giddy.

The questions come then – when did Travis ask you, how are you going to tell your families, what does your ring look like – and when you quietly say that you don’t have one Mrs. Stevenson jumps out of her seat.

“Oh child, that simply won’t do!”

You’re quick to your own defence. “It’s truly fine Mrs. Stevenson –”

“You can just call me Dottie dear.”

“Dottie,” you say, her first name rolling uncomfortably off your tongue. It will definitely take some getting used to. “I told Trav I didn’t need a ring. Being married to him is enough.” You smile in his direction and Travis returns the look with ease.

Not caring, the elderly lady heads into the small cottage, saying she has something that would work perfectly. Mr. Stevenson rolls his eyes and apologizes for his wife’s antics, but you insist it’s okay. She returns a minute later with quite possibly the prettiest ring you’ve ever seen. Attached to a thin gold band is a deep green emerald. The stone isn’t obnoxiously large, possibly even on the smaller side, and is completely your style. No other gems accompany it, letting the emerald take center stage.

“Wow,” you breathe. “It’s stunning.”

Travis leans over your shoulder to get a look and lets out a short whistle. “Totally you babe,” he chimes in.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Mr. Steveson shouts in encouragement. “Put it on her young man!”

You let loose a laugh, and soon the others join in. Travis takes it at Dottie’s insistence and places it gingerly on your finger. It’s a perfect fit, and you can’t help but let a few tears escape. Your eyes meet Travis’s and you see he’s trying to hold back tears, but is failing miserably. Overcome with emotion, you lean forward and press your lips to his. The kiss is sweet, but still all-consuming. Travis’s hands reach up to cup your face, continuing the exchange for probably longer than appropriate in public. The Stevensons coo gently in the background, having a conversation between themselves about how adorable you both are. You don’t hear them though, too wrapped up in Travis and the fact that everything feels like it has fallen into place.

After having a small argument about whether or not you can actually accept the ring, at which both Stevensons insist you should keep it, you help set the table for dinner. The meal is quite enjoyable, and you clean up despite the protests from Dottie. Once everything is squared away you and Travis go to make your exit. You hadn’t meant to intrude on their night, but you’re glad you did. On your way out the door, Mr. Stevenson, who followed his wife in demanding you call him by his first name, slips a small bag into Travis’s hand.

“Found these in our jewelry box. I think you might want them,” he winks, smiling softly before shooing you off with a loving tone with a promise to see you on Friday.

Peaking inside the bag once inside the safety of your own home, you pull out two delicate gold bands, one that looks about your size and one that matches Travis’s. It’s clear they’re meant to be your wedding bands, and you’re once again overcome with emotion. What did you do to deserve such kind neighbours?

Your night, and the day that follows are quiet. For the most part you go about your normal routine, puttering around while waiting for Travis to finish his workout and a meeting he has with the Flyers front office. He packs a lunch while you answer a call from your boss, who has a question about when you’ll be returning to Philadelphia. She chats with you for a while, catching up on all your summer adventures. You make sure to conceal your enagement, not wanting all of Philly to fin out before your families. Though you love your boss, she’s not well known for keeping secrets. Once all your affairs are finished, the two of you lock the front door and head to the lake.

“Where you taking me today cowboy?” you giggle as Travis steers the boat out of the marina.

He tips his hat at the nickname and speaks slowly, trying to mimic a southern accent a la John Wayne. “Gotta keep it a surprise darlin’,” he drawls. A laugh punctuates his sentence, and Travis can’t keep the charade up any longer. “I actually don’t have a destination. Thought we could just cruise around.”

It’s a good enough plan for you, and you sit close by while the pair of you travel the coast. The sun glistens off the top of the calm water while you float and your eyes grow heavy for the warmth. You indulge them, allowing them to flutter shut.

“You’re literally the worst company ever,” Travis grumbles as soon as he notices your resting figure.

Not bothering to open your eyes you shoot him the finger. “Fuck off, you’re the one who wants to marry me.”

“Damn straight.”

Despite being ‘terrible company’, Travis doesn’t try too hard to get away from you. Eventually he anchors the boat in a small cove and the pair of you spend a few hours swimming and soaking up the sun’s rays. Just existing like this, with Travis, is enough to calm any nerves you might have about tomorrow. Though it will be a low-key affair and no one will be in attendance, getting married is a huge deal. You would be more alarmed if you didn’t have any anxieties.

It’s dusk when you secure the boat in its slip and hop in the truck to return home. The wind coming off the water sends shivers down your spine, though you do your best to hide it. Travis notices, however, and slips the hoodie he was sporting over shoulders.

“Thanks,” you murmur appreciatively. He doesn’t respond, just shoots you a wide grin.

The many hours spent in the sun have tired you out, and as soon as you’re inside you bolt towards the bed. You don’t even bother to change before slipping under the covers. When Travis appears in the room a few minutes later, he laughs at the sight of you with the duvet pulled up to your chin.

He lies directly on top of you, and you shift slightly to accommodate the added weight. The room is silent save for your breathing, and it’s peaceful. You’re looking forward to spending the rest of your life like this.

“We have to go brush our teeth,” Travis murmurs into the crook of your neck, punctuating his words with sweet kisses.

The noise that leaves your throat is one of strangled protest. “But I’m really comfy,” you groan. “Besides I can’t get up with you on top of me.”

“Touché.” He slowly separates his form from yours and extends a hand to help you up. “You still have to get up. I don’t want to marry someone with bad breath.”

You stick your tongue out at him in response, but grab his hand and allow him to drag you to the bathroom. What unfolds next is straight out of Bring It On. The two of you brush your teeth in silence, occasionally making faces at each other in the mirror. Travis grins at you, mouth full of toothpaste, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Stop laughing!” he shouts after spitting into the sink. Nimble fingers find your sides, and before you can process what’s happening he’s digging them into you.

In an attempt to squirm out of his grasp and run away, you miss the sink rather ungracefully. Toothpaste dots the bathroom counter, but it’s the least of your worries. It will take two seconds to clean up once Travis isn’t hellbent on tickling you to death. You break free of his hold and dart down the hall away from him.

Travis rolls his eyes before grabbing a cloth to wipe away the remains of your desperate getway. When he enters the bedroom again you’re grabbing a faded 67’s tshirt to pull over head. He waits until you’re finished before wrapping his arms around your middle, no intentions of acting childish this time. You lean into his touch and he rests his chin comfortably on your shoulder. The two of you stand there for a while, swaying gently and thinking about the morning. Eventually Travis breaks away, leaving you to finish getting ready for bed, but not before placing a kiss to the nape of your neck.

“I can’t believe we’re going to be married by lunchtime tomorrow,” you sigh as Travis climbs into bed beside you and flicks off the lamp on his bedside table.

“It’s fucking insane, eh?”

Your lips turn into a smile, because it is in fact insane. Two days ago you were content just being with Travis and now in less than fourteen hours you’ll be his wife. Although the change is sudden, it feels right – to no other person would you want to get married. Travis is it.

He shuffles closer to close the gap between you. His hand travels to your hair, twirling it around his finger, and you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes flutter shut but you make no attempt to keep them open. A long night of rest will be useful in helping to quell your nerves in the morning.

“Sweet dreams Trav,” you mumble into the darkness.

You swear you can hear the smile in his voice when he responds, “Night sweetheart.”

When you awake the next morning Travis’s arms are still tightly wrapped around you. You had assumed he’d be up earlier than normal, making sure to get a good run in before returning to get ready. Instead, his head is buried in your hair and he’s snoring softly. A quick glance at your alarm clock tells you it’s time to get up unless you want to run the risk of running late to your own wedding.

“Trav,” you whisper softly, rolling over in his grasp. “We’ve gotta get up.” When you don’t get a response, you lightly trace the outline of his nose and speak a little louder. “Babe, we’re going to be late if we don’t get our asses in gear.”

Travis shoots up at the mention of your wedding, clearly excited. “Good morning soon-to-be Mrs. Konecny,” he says before making a disgusted face. “Forget I ever said that. Totally not our style.”

You can’t help but giggle and agree. Cheesy gestures of affection have never really been your thing, and it feels strange to try it out now. You peck Travis’s cheek quickly before pushing off the covers and heading to the bathroom. After grabbing a towel from the small linen rack in the corner you turn the water on and undress. Travis walks by the open door and whistles, so you laugh and flip him off before letting yourself be enveloped by the water.

The steam helps to relieve the tension in your shoulders you didn’t know was there. You suppose it’s just natural for you to be slightly anxious – even though practically nothing can go wrong a thousand what-ifs float around your mind. Going about your typical shower routine helps calm you down and take your mind off things, and when you step out of the bathroom most of your nerves have been replaced with sheer excitement.

Not wanting to get into the white sundress you decided to wear until you’re practically out the door, you slip into lounge clothes and go to join Travis in the kitchen. He’s munching away on a bowl of cereal but slides a cup of coffee across the counter for you. It’s made just the way you like it, of course, and you offer a quick thanks. When you move around to the other side of the island to make a bagel, you bump your hip against his. It’s quiet in the room, both of you in your heads as you picture what it will be like to say ‘I do’, but it’s nice. You eat in silence, and then it’s Travis’s turn to shower while you clean up the few dishes that were dirtied during breakfast.

After everything is squared away you go to finish getting ready. It’s warm, over twenty-five degrees, so you decide to pull your hair into a simple updo to keep it out of your face. Though no one will be there to judge you, you still want to look the tiniest bit put together. Your makeup consists of sunscreen and lip balm, knowing that Travis wants to spend the afternoon on the water. Besides, it’s so hot you’d be uncomfortable in anything else. With nothing to do but sit and wait for Travis to be ready, you turn your attention to the ring on your left hand, soon to be accompanied by another.

The emerald glistens as you twist the ring from side to side and you make a mental note to once again thank Mrs. Stevenson for giving it to you. Your thoughts are disrupted by Travis asking you a question.

“Are you going to kill me if I wear shorts?”

“As long as they aren’t track shorts you’re fine,” you shrug. “It’s fucking hot out.”

He arches his brow. “So I can wear the camo ones?”

“If you really want to Trav.”

Travis does not, in fact, wear the camo ones, but a respectable khaki pair. He also rolls the sleeves of his button down up to try and combat the heat. It’s a good look, and you make sure to tell him so. The compliments return ten-fold and you can’t help but blush. Even after so many years together Travis still knows how to give you butterflies.

“Zip me up?” you ask, spinning around so your back is to him.

He nods and carefully tugs the zipper along your spine to secure the fabric. Once finished, Tavis rests his hands on your hips and turns you to face him. He rests his forehead against yours and looks at you with the most love filled expression you’ve ever seen.

“I love you,” he whispers.

You smile and press closer to him, mumbling against his lips. “I love you too.”

The kiss you share is soft and warm. Like so many others you’ve shared, it makes you feel whole. Kissing Travis is the one time you feel like you’re right where you’re supposed to be. Time seems to slow down, and truthfully you don’t know how long you spend kissing Travis in the middle of your bedroom. It’s long enough that you have to rush out the door, almost forgetting the rings in the shuffle.

Even though you insisted you had no problem driving the four of you to the courthouse, the Stevensons insist on taking their own vehicle. “We having some shopping to do,” Mr. Stevenson explains, “And you won’t want to hang two old folks just after getting married! It’s the time to be young and in love.”

You can’t convince them to join you in Travis’s truck no matter how hard you try. The two of you eventually let them have their way and wave as you back out of the driveway with them to follow you shortly. The drive is quiet, like so many other moments this morning, and the closer the clock gets to your appointment time, the antsier you get. You just want to get it over with and finally be married to Travis.

“Babe, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floorboard from bouncing your foot so much,” Travis laughs. His hand leaves the steering wheel to rest just above your knee, effectively stopping your movement.

“Just excited,” you say honestly. “And nervous.”

Travis’s thumb rubs comforting circles on your bare skin as he speaks. “Me too. But I know that no matter what everything will be perfect because I love you and you love me and that’s all that matters.”

Before you know it you’re pulling into a parking spot and waiting for your witnesses to arrive. They must have got caught at a red light because they join you a few minutes later. There’s still a bit of time until you’re set to face the judge, but the four of you head inside anyways. Your fingers are laced tightly with Travis’s and you practically cling to him but no one says anything. After alerting reception to your presence you pace the hallway outside the courtroom.

Nothing about this is traditional, but Dottie still ushers you away from your husband-to-be in order to give you a little pep talk. As you’re being ushered around the corner you see Mr. Stevenson doing something similar with Travis.

“Don’t worry about him dear, Richard will make sure he doesn’t flee. Though I know he’d never think about it,” she says. “He’s good for you, and you’re good for him.”

You smile at her statement. The two of you really are meant for each other. Dottie talks a bit more, hyping you up and giving you some advice for married life. You rejoin the boys just before the group is called.

“The Konecnys? Judge Holloway is ready for you.”

Butterflies flutter in your stomach upon hearing the name that will be yours in a matter of minutes. You all follow the official into the chamber and wait for further instruction.

“I do believe congratulations are in order,” the judge says. Applause comes from the Stevensons, and you press your face into Travis’s shoulder, embarrassed. “I’m Judge Holloway, and I’ll be performing the ceremony today. Before we get started, are there any objections?”

Both you and Travis shake your head. “No,” you enunciate in unison.

“Perfect. I just need the marriage license and then we’ll be good to go.”

Travis hands the official document over, and the judge does some preliminary signing to make the aftermath a bit easier. While you wait you can’t stop smiling at Travis – not that you’d rather be doing anything else. Since this is a justice of the peace ceremony no religious elements are included, which you’re thankful for. Neither you nor Travis had time to write your own vows but had agreed to share them privately at a later date. Everything happening in the present was strictly legal and made the process quite speedy.

“Alright, now that the technicalities are out of the way we can get to the fun stuff.”

The comment makes you laugh. Though hearing the legalities of marriage was slightly mind-numbing, you’d call everything that’s happened so far fun. Perhaps that’s only because you’re the one getting married.

“Y/N,” the judge says. “Do you accept Travis as your lawfully wedded spouse?”

“I do.” You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life.

Then it’s Travis’s turn, and he’s spitting the words out before the officiant can finish the sentence. “I do.”

Laughter bounces off the walls at his eagerness. You shake your head and remember to tease him about it later. He just shoots you a wink.

Judge Holloway looks into your small crowd. “I imagine one of you has the rings?”

Travis fishes around in his pocket and pulls out the drawstring back they’re being held in. The judge nods in approval. “Place the ring on the third finger of your partner’s left hand and repeat after me. This ring signifies my devotion to you, and shall serve as a reminder that I will cherish you forever.”

Both of you repeat the words, and both tear up when placing the rings. They flow freely down your cheeks, and Travis wipes them away with his thumb.

“I think I know what comes next,” he whispers to you.

Taking the opportunity to tease him a little bit, you nudge his shoulder. “Oh yeah? Think you’ve had enough practice?”

“Guess we’ll just have to find out.”

You turn your attention back to the judge, who speaks once again. “By the power vested in me by the Marriage Act, I do hereby pronounce Travis and Y/N to be married.”

Once again, applause rings out, and you can’t help but giggle against Travis’s lips as he pulls you in for a kiss to ‘seal the deal’. It’s earth-shattering, your first kiss as husband and wife, and you can’t help but deepen it by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer. When you break apart neither of you can stop smiling.

Your party signs along the dotted line of the marriage certificate and you accept the well wishes of the judge before exiting the room. In the hallway the Stevensons envelope you both in a giant hug. “Thank you both for being here,” you say, voice watery. You haven’t stopped crying since you got to sign your last name as Konecny for the first time.

“We’re incredibly honoured you chose us,” Dottie exclaims, grasping your hands to let you know just how much it meant to her. Her husband nods in agreeance, and you say your goodbyes, promising to have them over for dinner in a few days. You watch their figures retreat out the courthouse doors, and then you’re alone with Travis.

He looks ethereal – the post wedding glow is something you know won’t go away any time soon. Though the whole thing was quite unconventional you wouldn’t change it for the world. Something about it is so distinctly you and Travis: the spontaneity of it all, how it happened on your own accord. You know you’ll receive an earful when you call your families to let them know of the change, but you don’t care. At no time will you ever be as happy as you are now.

Your fingers find his for possibly the hundredth time today but neither of you complain, so in love with each other you’re sure if any of his teammates were here Travis would be getting chirped into oblivion.

“What do you say Konecny? Want to get out of here?” he asks, punctuating the end of his statement with a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You’ve never heard him have a better suggestion. “Lead the way lover boy.”

❥❥❥

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

#travis konecny imagine #travis konecny x reader #travis konecny fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites

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4aloysius-porteu · 3 years

Text

i am your ally || tsukishima kei.

pairing; tsukishima kei x f! reader

genre: oneshot, drama, flangst, a little comedy

word count: 5.6k

details: 3rd year Tsukishima, artist reader

warnings: reader going missing, verbal abuse, crushing of dreams, lots of sadness, heavy parental argument, everything that happens here hits home

synopsis: tsukishima didnt know what is the right thing to say after he heard of (y/n)’s situation, but the words that stumbled out from his mouth were a surprise, yet it blossomed to a meaningful talk that happens once in a blue moon.

(a/n): wrote in the middle of my depressing days to find a little comfort from this character that I love with all my heart. inspired by true situations irl; if you, my friend, is feeling down today, i hope reading this work of mine can help. i might make this into a full story if this got enough attention tho.

(Y/N) was nowhere to be found.

It wasn't Tsukishima's habit to eavesdrop on other people's conversation, but he couldn't help but listen when he heard her name from her classmates. She was a consistent top student that will never neglect her studies, so it was unusual to know that she was absent today. He thought that maybe she got sick or she decided to go crazy and skip school. If it was the latter, he hoped that she knows what she's doing, because midterms are coming in 3 days, and he's not going to listen to her whines and begs to help her study for the tests.

And now he just happened to overhear that she was missing.

He saw her parents walk out of the campus after talking to the vice-principal and to the teachers. Gossip filled the corridors and rooms. Tsukishima went back to his room, clearly annoyed with the unnecessary noise.

He listened to the lectures of each subject and continued to write down important points, but the thought of (Y/N) lingered in his head. What could've happened that led to her disappearance? Was she kidnapped? No, he just walked her home last night and she'll never leave her place past midnight. Kidnappers won't dare to make a move in daylight because of the town's high authority visibility. There's no way she'll be lost in an area she's very familiar with.

She ran away from home. That is the only logical possibility he could come up with, but he couldn't think of an idea as to why. (Y/N), who loves to be cooped up in her room with music blaring in her earphones while drawing, left her home without a trace. Tsukishima was a little worried, but he won't let his face show whatever the hell he's feeling.

His plays and blocks aren't exactly bad, but Yamaguchi could sense that Tsukishima was thinking of something other than the volleyball practice. He approached his friend who was resting on the floor, his long arms covering his curled up legs.

"Tsukki, what's with that expression? Did you get a failing score in a quiz?" Yamaguchi started, in an attempt to lighten up the atmosphere.

The blonde's eyes darted to him, "Like hell, I'm going to let that happen. What do you want?"

He shrugged, "Nothing, I just noticed that you were a little quieter and more passive today. Normally, you would've chewed the first years out with their simple blocking errors, but you didn't say a thing. You're scarier in their eyes when you're silent."

"I was tired. I'll only waste my voice pointing out something I did a million times." A sigh escaped his lips

"Right..." Yamaguchi paused, "So, I assume you have heard?"

"Heard of what?"

"That (Y/N) is missing."

"Oh," A frown fell on his features. It wasn't his usual frown. People who really know him would notice that his eyes are full of worry.

He sat beside Tsukishima before he spoke again. "I know you have ideas on places (Y/N) could've gone to."

"I do not know what you're talking about."

The latter chuckled, "Oh, humor me, Tsukki. If you're that worried, I can excuse you for today's practice. No problem."

"Does that mean that you aren't concerned?"

"I am concerned. I want to look for her as well, but I have to whip the other players into shape. I'm sorry if I couldn't accompany you right away."

Tsukishima stood up and sighed again, "You will excuse me, you said?"

"Yeah."

There were silence and the background noise of balls and shoes colliding on the floor. He wiped the sweat off his face before replying, "I'll be leaving the gym in a few minutes."

He changed his clothes and packed his things up, causing the team to exchange glances.

"Tsukki!" Yamaguchi called, throwing his friend's large jacket to him, which the other caught. "Take care! I hope you find (Y/N) and get her home safe."

"I wish. Then, I'll leave it to you, Captain."

The green-haired middle blocker's eyes teared up and sparkled as he beamed a smile back, "I got it!"

Tsukishima started to look for (Y/N) at the places she liked to go to; the art store, the Central Park, the kid's playground, the museum, and the prefectural library. But there was no sign of her anywhere. He looked at the nearby places to no avail. He walked on while dialing her number, but her phone is out of coverage area. He spent 3 more hours finding the girl and soon received a message from Yamaguchi, telling him that (Y/N) hasn't been found yet and that he joined the authorities to help them find her.

He walked back to the direction of his home, panting softly. He had failed to find (Y/N), yet his brain won't stop thinking about her possible whereabouts. The cool breeze of winter hit Tsukishima's face and shivered at the contact. He had hoped again that she is inside of an establishment, safe from such cold weather.

Tsukishima's home has its lights out. Her mother was invited into her colleagues' reunion as said in her text, and both his father and brother are busy at work. He reached for his key in his pocket and was opening the door, not until he heard a loud sob from somewhere. Tsukishima looked around the place as the sobbing continued. He searched for the source and ended up in their backyard. He caught the sight of a small figure behind the bushes and went closer to confirm.

It was a cat. It had scurried away once he got close to it. Oh, how stupid he is to get his hopes up only to find a scared animal. But he was certain he heard a sob somewhere near. And cats aren't capable of making a sound like that. Or maybe he was only hearing things?

He dragged his feet to the main door to unlock it, but this time, there was a loud noise of scrubbing on the roof. What is it this time? He moved back and looked upon where it came from.

To his surprise, it wasn't another cat but a person. Their legs were curled up, arms covered around them, with their chin on their knees. Tsukishima turned on his phone's flashlight and there she was.

It was (Y/N). Her shoulders shook, either from the cold or trying her best not to cry out loud.

"H-Help me."

He stared at the girl, confused and fighting back laughter because of how scared (Y/N) looked. "How the heck did you get in there?"

"I climbed that tree and jumped off to break in and hide in your room. Turned out that the windows are locked. I don't know how to jump back and I-I was too high from the ground. You know I'm scared of heights! Why did you lock the window?! Stupid!"

"Of course, I would lock the window for the security. And wow, aren't you the stupid one for knowing how to climb and jump up to my window and not knowing how to get down? Why did you climb if you are scared of heights? Such an idiot."

"Fine, fine. I am an idiot. Now, can you help me get off this roof?"

He crossed his arms and smirked, "No."

"Ugh! Please, Kei. I've been trapped here for hours. I am begging you to help me get down. Please?"

He sighed in defeat and raised his arms. "Here. Jump."

For seconds, (Y/N) didn't respond as she was having second thoughts about jumping.

"What? Do you expect me to get a ladder? I'm sorry, but it's in the basement, broken." He said in a mocking tone. "Don't you want to come down?"

"Can you catch me properly? Are your arms stable? Won't you fall on your ass?" (Y/N) interrogated.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, "Alright, stay there and freeze to death."

"No, wait! I was just asking! Come back! Don't leave meeee!"

The blonde looked up to her and raised his arms again, "Don't think. Trust me, I will catch you properly and you won't crash to the ground. You weigh like nothing anyway."

"Are you talking about yourself?" She retorted, pertaining to his weight.

"Can you please just jump?"

(Y/N) inhaled and went to the edge of the roof. It was a scary view for her, just looking down makes her dizzy, and want to throw up. She thought he would have the largest frown on his face because of how irritatingly slow she was, but there was Tsukishima waiting for her with the calmest expression. She smiled a little.

"Here I go..."

She took off, closing her eyes, and swallowing her fears. The gravity pulled her feet down shortly after, and Tsukishima readied himself for the impact as he reached her waist. He held on to her lower torso while (Y/N) placed her arms around his shoulders tightly and legs on his waist. The athlete's balance slightly went off, so he took a step back to support both their weights. It was now steady.

"I'm surprised you didn't lose your balance. Where's the weak boned beanpole 3 years ago?"

"I did for a second."

"Doesn't matter. You caught me. Thank you."

They had stayed in that way for a moment until Tsukishima spoke, "Do you plan to get off?"

"No. I'm tired."

"I am too." Yet she refused to let go.

He exhaled, carrying (Y/N) to the main entrance and finally unlocking the door. Her hoodie was cold and some parts are wet, but it didn't rain on that day. He took her in and placed her on the couch. Tsukishima went to his room, changed clothes, and brought a spare sweatshirt, handkerchief, and a towel. He went down but didn't find (Y/N) where he left her, so he walked to the kitchen counter and found the girl on the corner, shivering like a pup.

He tossed the clothing at her without further words. There was a note from her mom beside the curry in the table, saying she had eaten and she left rolls in the refrigerator. He was about to turn on the stove to reheat the food his mother left, but his eyes landed on (Y/N) who sat quietly, hugging the sweatshirt instead of wearing it. Her hair was disheveled, the sleeves and neck part of her hoodie was damp, her nose was red and her puffy, bloodshot eyes implied that she has been crying for who knows how long. He set the pan down to get her a glass of water.

"Everyone was looking for you." Said Tsukishima.

"No one was really looking for me." (Y/N) replied, clearing her nose.

"I didn't spend the last 3 hours tiring myself to scan the whole town for no reason." He sat beside her, handing the glass. "Care to spill the tea?"

(Y/N) drank first before speaking weakly, "I hate them. So much."

The male remained quiet, waiting for her to continue her dilemma.

"Remember when I told you and the class that I will be the most successful doctor in Japan after I finished my studies? It was a lie. It wasn't my dream to stay in a hospital and treat ill people, I only wanted to draw and paint. I didn't care if it never made them or anyone happy, I am happy doing it. And they are taking it away from me."

He knew from the start that her dream job as a doctor wasn't true. For years she stayed close to him as a friend or more, she won't blabber anything of the medical topic. She was terrified of syringes. He saw her reading an article about surgeries and like, but her focus was easily taken away.

She will get a pencil then start scribbling and drawing. Something that Tsukishima always sees her doing whenever she has a pen and paper, but she insists that it was a mere hobby. Her notebooks are well designed and organized, but the back is always full of artistic doodles instead of algebra solutions. She only has very few art materials yet she can make a portrait with only her fingers to shade. She makes digital art without a stylus. She would drag him to the museum after class to view some western and eastern paintings or any work of art while he admires the dinosaur fossils. For times she's watching an art tutorial and talk about art, draw and paint, she has those stupid sparkles in her eyes and a huge smile on her face.

"You know Tsukishima, after I finish studying and became a doctor, I'll become an artist and if the time let's it, I'll open my own art gallery. That's my ultimate dream." She looked alive and delighted.

Very much the opposite of what she looks like right now.

Even though she was a slave of art, as Tsukishima was a slave of his own interests, (Y/N) prioritized her studies so much. He understood why when he went to her house and met her parents before their study sessions. He had noticed everything but chose to stay quiet.

"I-I was drawing last night. Dad entered my room but I didn't notice so he ripped the music away from my ears and yelled. He said that I would always lock myself in my room and draw every night. It was never-ending and irritates the shit out of him. He asked why would I do something so useless that isn't even connected to any academic subject. He was looking down on my art like he was looking at a piece of crap. He told me to stop and threatened me if I didn't. Why would I get punished for drawing? I couldn't get myself to stay silent so I retorted. If he doesn't want to see me drawing, then he shouldn't enter my room at all. He should stop meddling with my hobbies. His anger only went up."

(Y/N) stopped for a while to wipe her tears and snot with her sleeves but Tsukishima placed a handkerchief on her hands. She muttered her thanks and blew her nose and soon followed with a sneeze.

"Soon, it became a full-blown argument. He said that he was checking out if I was doing my projects, but oh he was so disappointed only to find his daughter drawing for nothing. What the heck? I gave them the best grades I could get, and part of it was because of you, Tsukishima, but they still aren't satisfied? I balanced drawing and academics, but they made it seem that all I was doing was my hobby, completely ignoring my efforts at school. I finished the school activities and I reviewed for midterms and all I want is to be left alone and draw. What, they want me to go crazy by studying every hour with things I won't even apply in real life?"

Her fake laughter echoed in the kitchen for seconds before her depressed tone took over again.

"Mom heard all the shouting and joined the argument. Of course, she sided with dad without listening to my feelings and there they ridiculed their youngest child's interests and talent. They told me that everything I do is bullshit and wrong, that I was useless, that I was the huge opposite of their expectations, and... and how come God gave them a joke. She said they raised me so that I could help them, not to do such useless things. It hurts to shout back but I did to explain why I'm so passionate about art in hopes that they will listen and understand but, I was so wrong. I was suddenly slapped..." She placed her hand to her left cheek, her lips quivered a little.

"I-It stung so much. Mom complained about how the Internet generation is so rebellious and won't listen to the elders. They didn't raise and teach me to talk back at them, but here is their child being a bitch. They started comparing me to my elder siblings or relatives who focused on their studies and who are at the door of success. I know they only want me to achieve the best, but my success isn't up to them! It's on me!! And I've invested a lot for that! They shouted at me as mom pulled my hair. It was so loud I thought I was going deaf. Dad blamed the gadget's influence and my drawings. I have only drawn decent fanarts of fictional characters, people, and sceneries, but they believed that because of these, I turned into a mannerless bastard. So mom decided to get my phone and lessen my allowance so that I wouldn't buy any art materials that are a waste of fortune--"

She bit her lower lip that is trembling uncontrollably and her eyesight blurred as her fat tears got in the way.

"and... D-Dad... he... he... he tore m-my sketch pad apart..."

Tsukishima's eyes widened. (Y/N) brought that thing with her almost everywhere she went and it was filled with good drawings and art plans. She has a lot of them though, but Tsukishima could only imagine how she felt when her efforts were trampled over by someone important to her.

(Y/N) broke down, bawled her eyes out, and shrieked hysterically. He looked at her with a heavy heart. He had seen her crying sometimes, be it because of a sad movie or empathy, but never like this. A depressed, emotional wreck. Her eyes were sore enough after a lot of hours, but she won't stop crying. It was heartbreaking to see and hear his significant other in this state, yet Tsukishima didn't know what is the right thing to say.

But maybe there was no need to say anything at all.

Kei wrapped his arms around her weeping figure and pulled her towards him. Cry it out, pipsqueak. (Y/N) didn't expect this action, nonetheless cried in his shoulder He didn't care anymore if this meant he gets his clothes drenched in her snot and tears as long as she felt a little less lonely. He rubbed her back and hair in an attempt to comfort his lover. (Y/N)'s airways hurt, but she screamed the pain out, in hopes that the pain in her heart would vanish. Her weeping went on for long minutes until she choked in her own sobs that Tsukishima had to get her another glass of water.

"Tell me, Kei." She began, wiping her eyes, "Is there... something wrong with me? Is my dream really that insignificant?"

"There's nothing wrong with you. You followed your ideals. Anyone including me would've done the same." He answered beside her.

"I-It's realistic, right?"

"It is."

"Then... why did it turn out like this?" Her voice was cracking.

Tsukishima looked down, "The society is just very cruel."

"Yeah. It sure is. Such a cruel society to live with."

(Y/N) let out a dejected sigh and leaned on Tsukki's shoulder. "I couldn't look at them without such overwhelming fear and hate anymore. I wonder if... they knew that I was doing this for them. I'd like to make them smile with something I've made myself. Once, I made each of them a portrait. A realistic one made from a pencil. I couldn't afford a material set that can be used to paint realistically, but I tried my best to impress them with a charcoal one. Oh, if only you saw their faces when I gave them the portraits. They returned a half-hearted smile. It wasn't the same kind of joy I see whenever I give them perfect scores on tests. I didn't spend 3 sleepless nights just to see their half happy, half unpleased reaction. I wish they could feel more proud of their daughter who worked hard for them... I wonder if they threw it away as he did on my sketch pad..."

They let silence engulf the atmosphere for a while. (Y/N) had calmed down a little, despite shedding smaller tears from the side of her eyes. Tsukishima held the sweatshirt he gave her earlier to make her wear it on the top of her hoodie to lessen her shivering. He stared at her, while the other gazed down on the floor with dead eyes.

Tsukishima asked, "So, what are you going to do now?"

"What am I going to do now huh..." (Y/N) repeated. "I'll probably... put everything to an end."

"You know I won't let you."

"I'm not talking about my life, silly. I might stop drawing and all. I've lost it."

"Isn't your life and drawing one and the same? And I'm pretty sure you have that immense talent to continue."

"No... Besides, talent isn't a talent if it doesn't make anyone happy."

The blonde mentally scoffed. She just said that it makes her happy in the beginning.

"Oh? Fine, stop doing that one thing you put everything into. What would that girl you received a commission from would feel if she were to hear you though?"

(Y/N) was stunned. She had completely forgotten about the whole commission thing she opened in her social media accounts. Tsukishima accompanied (Y/N) on giving the commissioned charcoal portrait to a girl last 3 weeks ago. It was (Y/N)'s first commission for years she's making art. Someone liked her work for the first time and paid for it, and her client looks very contented and glad. The words she said filled her thoughts with inspiration.

"Wow, this is awesome! I'm so happy!! Thank you for making this, it was exactly what I've pictured on my mind! You're amazing! All the excitement I've bottled up for this day is so worth it," The girl, probably a little older than them paused and admired the painting she received from (Y/N).

"Would you ignore those words she said?"

'Please don't stop drawing, I'll be looking forward to your future works!'

A pang of guilt hit her chest. She wants to pursue art, but there are these shackles and chains on her limbs and around her neck that made it hard for her to move forward. She couldn't breathe. What happened yesterday night was too much. Her parents went overboard.

"B-But—"

A monotone voice interrupted her, "Don't. Never stop striving for something you have been building for years. You might be defeated now, but surely, you will win some time. There's no way you'll stay in the lowest level of the ladder after I saw how hard you worked. You will go to nationals again, and I will continue to support you. I'll cheer for you and stay by your side! So please, do not stop! Let me see those beautiful blocks that you execute in the game once more! And I will watch you reach the top! Doesn't matter how many times, I'll never get weary of watching you do amazing things!"

She was silenced by that statement. She had definitely heard those before, but couldn't quite remember where.

"Does the sentiment seem familiar to you? Those are the same words that came from your mouth when I was planning to quit volleyball after our huge loss to Date Tech last year. I am returning them back to you."

"Huh?" She replied with a meek voice.

"That time, you really did a good job meddling with my decisions. It annoyed me first, but what you had stated held a weight that I couldn't disregard. You gave me the small push I didn't know I needed. In the end, I'd like to pay you back." Tsukishima stated with a far away look in his eyes.

(Y/N) listened with watery eyes. This Tsukishima's side isn't definitely the one she gets to see every day so she couldn't feel anything but the warm, fuzzy feeling that is healing her heart.

"It's probably selfish for me to say this but, don't you dare give up. I didn't stop. No matter how long and hard the game is, no matter how tired and discouraged I get, and no matter how many pessimistic thoughts clouded my head, I didn't stop chasing after a falling ball and thinking of another tactic to counter the enemy. I kept your words with me in court. It was you who told me not to in the first place, and I'm not going to forgive you if you ever dropped everything. I won't let the stupid, starry-eyed (Y/N) die today."

The girl beside her started sobbing. "But you told me once that my drawing are ugly."

"Oh. That. I... kind of remember that. I'm not sorry about what I said because I did it to provoke and rile you up. It was a lie though. As someone who always sees you drawing, I can't call your work ugly at all. Your art is... astounding. You make it look like it's so easy to do. I think you forgot next sentence after I told you that."

"What was the sentence after?"

Tsukishima sighed, "I told you to keep doing it, right?"

The sound of (Y/N) crying engulfed the kitchen, "Oh gosh, why did I forget that... I'm sorry, I'm so idiotic..."

The blonde brought her back to his arms, "Will you stop crying, you've been too hard on yourself today,"

(Y/N) hid her face on his chest, muffling her speech, "c-couldn't help it... my mind is such a mess... I do not know..." She paused, coughing. "It's no use if m-my parents don't acknowledge me..."

"Hundreds, or perhaps thousands of people who follow you on social media account recognize you. People in school recognizes you. I recognize you. I am your ally. Isn't that enough reason for you to get back on your feet? I will support you just like how you supported me. You have a lot of people who admire you, but I only have a few people and you. Yet your words are enough. I'm certain that soon, you will reach your parents' standards and get them to acknowledge you. It's not impossible."

(Y/N) fixed her tear-stained face before looking up to him, "You know what? Who are you? Is a good spirit possessing your body? The Kei I know will either stay quiet or laugh at me for being pathetic."

"I was trying to be nice for once and this is what I get?" He frowned.

(Y/N) chuckled and hugged Tsukishima, "I'm sorry. Everything you said meant the world to me. Thank you very much."

She relaxed against his lean body, "I have a question though..."

"What?"

"You literally had no business in my art, it was my own problem. Why are you doing this?"

"Why don't you ask yourself after you argued with me that night? Why did you have to butt in with my choices?"

"Because you like volleyball! You might look like that someone stole your dinosaur collection when you're at practice, but you're good at it and have a future in it! It is a part of you, and you're deciding to throw it away? Your potential is too big to be wasted and I refuse to let that happen." Her voice is a little louder now, but hoarse.

"There's your answer, little gremlin."

"How is that— Oh."

"But I'd like to add something."

"What is it?"

"You look better doing what you really like. It makes you look less like a hag."

It was silent after that. (Y/N) punched his arm. Tsukishima didn't even wince but asked, "What was that for?"

"The last statement was unnecessary, and the first one is sweet yet cringey." She criticized.

"C'mon, I'm just a teenager. Aren't you the cringey one most of the times?"

She used the handkerchief to sniffle her runny nose away, "Why do you have a knack of returning everything I said to me?"

"I won't do it if it's not appropriate." Tsukishima placed his hands on her back and to her hair, "So, what are you going to do now, (Y/N)?"

"I'll think things through. My brain is still slightly messy, but I'll be fine, thanks to you. But Kei..."

He hummed as a response. "I don't want to go home. I want to run away."

"Not possible. You can't survive on your own. You're almost 18 and until now, you don't understand how a washing machine works with all your perfect scores in exams."

"This is just a thought. I didn't say I'll be alone. I'm taking you with me."

"I refuse."

"Why?"

"Couldn't you wait for more months until we graduate?"

(Y/N)'s eyebrows raised, "So basically, you're agreeing, but not this time?"

"No, but you'll be free of your parents' suffocating control. Who knows how huge is your potential by that time."

"How considerate of you." The girl smiled.

"Only this time. And no, we won't live in the same place in college. Not yet. Not until we finish our studies, have secured jobs, and get important things done."

"Will you be playing volleyball at college?"

He lazily replied, "Probably."

"Don't give me such an ambiguous answer!"

"Probably yes."

"Hmm. Fine by me. I'll continue to draw, then." (Y/N) rested her head near Tsukishima's neck.

He smiled a little at her answer, "Another thing though. I don't think... you should leave things with your parents like that. There'll be a time where you have to face it."

"Yes, that sucks... I don't want to think about it but I'll have to go back eventually... When that confrontation happens, I'll try to calmly talk it out with them. I will never be certain if it will end well. But my hate and fear of them won't change."

"You can always run back here if it didn't end well."

"Kei, don't want to see their faces just yet. Can I stay here for a while?"

"You even bother to ask. You are welcome anytime in this household. Just enter the house in the front door, not in my window."

"Right... thank you."

"Oh, now it's my turn to ask. How did you get in there?"

(Y/N) sighed, "It was on 4:30pm. I was on the loose and I looked for a store where anyone can't recognize me so I can eat for lunch. But there's this creep who kept on following me—"

"Did he hurt you?" He abruptly questioned.

"No. I ran as fast as I could before he could even get close to me, but in the next block, there were the town authorities with my mom, and I knew they were looking for me, so I blended into the people with my hoodie on and made my way. I climbed the tree in panic that they'll find me and hid there. It took me hours to notice that your house is just next to it, so I decided to climb to your window. However, the window was locked, and I was stuck."

Tsukishima sighed in relief. "It was a miracle that a klutz like you didn't fell off the tree and surprisingly, no one found you."

"I was high in adrenaline when I climbed the tree. My blending and hiding skills are in ninja-tier now, I beat you."

"Whatever. What did you have for breakfast?"

"...a melon bread."

"Just that?"

"Just that."

Tsukishima kissed her forehead before lifting her up with him. "Go change. Borrow any of my clothes. I'll reheat the food."

(Y/N) kissed his cheek, slowly got off him and went upstairs. Tsukishima opened his phone to text Yamaguchi about her situation and proceeded to reheat the spicy curry.

"Wait, Kei! Is it okay for me to eat?" She shouted from upstairs.

"What kind of question is that? Of course you can." He shouted back.

"Your mom left that for you, for your dad and for your brother. I'd feel bad."

"My brother and dad will come home late and I'm sure they've eaten already. So is mom."

"Are you sure? I can replace the food." She said while going down the stairs.

"Oh, you can cook? I'm afraid you'll burn the whole kitchen." He mocked.

"At least not the whole house." (Y/N) laughed, "Just kidding, I have a tiny knowledge in cooking."

"You don't have to, I told you they already ate. I'll bring out the sushi mom made if you still want to eat."

"Alright. Thank you for the food."

Few hours later, Tsukishima's mom came home and took off her shoes. "I'm home."

As she was about to enter the living room, Akiteru greeted her and placed his finger in front of his lips, indicating her to keep quiet. She wondered what was going on and saw her youngest son and his girlfriend leaning on his shoulder, asleep on the couch in front of the TV. He signaled her to read the note Kei left on the table.

To mom, dad, and brother,

Earlier in the morning, (Y/N) went missing and her parents and town authorities were looking for her. I found her on the way home, but it turns out that she ran away from her home because of an intense argument between her parents, and doesn't want to be found yet. Please let her stay here for a while. I'll do most of the household chores or any favor you ask me in return.

Mom, I shared the curry and sushi rolls with her. I left for some for dad and brother. (Y/N) said it was very delicious.

Love,

Kei.

She smiled after reading the note and looked at the sleeping kids. She took notice of (Y/N)'s eyes and quickly understood the situation. Before she left to rest in her room, she looked for a spare blanket and laid it atop them to keep them warm.

(Y/N) snuggled further to Tsukishima's arms, satisfied on how this night will end well, unlike yesterday's.

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enhyupn · 3 years

Text

the perfect date! four

masterlist | previous | next

a series in which enhypen’s 02s competitive side shines through when trying to get your attention. the only solution to end this tiring rivalry? three dates with each of them in the course of three weeks.

paring: 02s x gn!reader

word count: 2.8k

genre: fluff, angst, high school!au, someone’s gonna end up heartbroken

warnings: swearing, violence is mentioned, jealousy, arguments + there might be grammatical and spelling errors in this 😞

ask to be on taglist, updates are irregular

a/n i should really make a masterlist BUT!!! okay i’ll edit this properly soon my eyes aren’t working rn since i’m on the road also it’s taking a while to get to the actual date 😩 Bit so wait for that everyone

taglist: @dchannie17 @simluvbot @jaeyuni @neocrush @penghoons @min-arya @sunooflowerss @badroseee @cha-raena @ghjasksdk @strawr @jaypen @nanachuu @nikisboxysmile @softkons @kisshoons-main @enha-woodzies

you had felt as if your feet were about to fall off by the time you had reached the gate of your well loved home. with heavy breaths you could see the outline of a figure standing almost a meter away from you. a scowl on your face when you saw the almost semi-permanent smirk placed on jay’s face as he stood proudly in front of your home. you let an exasperated sigh out as you lean against the cold metal gate, not able to find the energy to open it up. the lack of daylight surrounding you only really added to your draining energy. you roll your eyes before fixing your school blazer into it’s proper appearance and adjusting your school bag to fit comfortably on your shoulder. you look up once again, your eyes meeting the blonde dyed boy’s eyes. a smile placed in his eyes, something that showed you that had been waiting for you.

your mind couldn’t help but remind you that this was one of the few moments where you had really taken the time to look at jay’s face. your time in middle school didn’t really give you any opportunities due to the fact you were so shy and bashful in front of the boy that you couldn’t even properly look at him. you just so barely properly spoke to him and exchanged messages to even form some sort of connection. you never really questioned until then why he had a crush on you in middle school, a time in your life where you had thought you were going to be alone forever. as much as you wanted to question him you knew you’d accidentally expose your own past crush, something you desperately didn’t want to explain.

“are you gonna greet me or are you just gonna keep staring at my face?” he teased, letting out a hearty laugh. you shook your head, not approving of his statement. you unlock your gate as you send him another glare. the wind added to the already dramatic yet heart warming scene, loose cherry blossom petals from a nearby tree flying around you almost romantically.

“i was not” you murmured as you had gotten closer to him, the sound of the grass lightly flattening as you walked over it with care. you might of even stepped on a bug in the process, none of the surrounding light exposing itself onto the lawn meaning your vision was very little. “as if i’d willingly do that”. the boy only laughed in response as you leaned against the wall, very eerily close to him. you eyes dart to the small space in between the two of you, unexplainable heat rushing to your cheeks. the boy sends you a look with his eyebrow raised, unsure what the problem was. “anyways, what was that call even for?” you manage to shift the attention back into your words.

“hmmmm” he pretended to think, the joke only causing you to snort quietly to yourself. his head suddenly twists towards you, the previous view of your sad looking garden not doing him any justice in your conversation. from your point of view, your eyes only widened in surprise when you had realised just how close your faces were together. his nose was almost touching yours and, if you wanted to, you could of even touched foreheads together. “i don’t know”.

“what do you mean i don’t know?” you move your face back, jay not noticing the small movement from your sudden bashfulness. “who calls saying i’m at your house, come home quickly before i break in without a reason?” you continue, hands flying around you as you try and theatrically explain his excuse.

“maybe i do?” jay laughed in between his words. you roll your eyes at his playfulness, a small smile forming on your lips when you looked down at your feet. as much as you wanted an explanation, hearing jay finally for the first time in years joke around with you simply just felt better.

“veeerry funny jay” you spoke breathily, leaning further against the wall of your home. you knew your parents were waiting for your arrival, probably sitting in their room asking themselves when you’ll eat your dinner. however, you weren’t entirely really sure if they knew about jay’s sudden visit outside your door. with a quick sigh out you turn to him once again, the boy only mirroring your action with a grin spread across his face. “how did you know where i live? or remembered my number?”.

“jake, for both of your answers” you seem raise an eyebrow at the mention of your best friend’s name, suspicious on what had happened between the two of them.

“you two are buddy-buddy now?” you tease, your fingers wiggling in front of his face playfully as you let a squeaky laugh out. jay lightly swatted your hands away, a low chuckle escaping him mouth as he turned away from you to look at the bland scenery in front of him.

“not exactly, we just both relate to things i guess” he replied quietly, the sound of crickets chirping and wind slightly breezing through following the sound of his voice. your lips morph into a small smile when you had listened to his words.

“that’s nice to hear” you sigh out blissfully, your head nodded in agreement while turning to the front of you too to look at the same scenery his eyes were trained on. “no more fighting then, i suppose?”.

“can’t promise that one” jay awkwardly let out, his head replaying the memory of earlier that evening. he bit his lip in guilt, feeling yet again apologetic about the whole situation. “hey i’m sorry—”

“—it’s fine” you interrupt him abruptly. you had already predicted what he was about to say, knowing jay’s personality you knew he would feel incredibly guilty about it. you knew it wasn’t either of their faults, from every way you’ve looked at the situation you understood that the two of weren’t the best with handling any sort of feelings they felt. “you two were just emotional, plus i wasn’t giving you enough attention today too”.

“give me attention?” he laughed, a growing blush scattering across his face. his brain almost blew up at your slightly affectionate comment. “why would you say it like that?”.

“oh shut up” you nudge him lightly, biting your lip in slight embarrassment when you had realised what you had said. “you know what i mean! i haven’t seen you in forever and of course you would wanna catch up with me”. you glance at him while your feet tapped slightly, “right?”.

“how cocky of you to think i missed you” jay jokingly rolled his eyes. you could tell from his playful tone that he was just teasing you, although it didn’t stop you from lightly elbowing him in the side.

it felt nice, talking so freely with the boy you’ve probably spent a good chunk of your life thinking about and as well as even missing. the brain of middle school you would of never even thought this would of happened, with you thinking then that the two of you were on two completely different levels (with jay being on the significantly higher level, even during those middle school years). you wish you could of told your younger self that those times spent silently admiring your school crush wasn’t a one sided thing as much as you had thought.

“don’t go thinking i missed you either too then!” you pout. the action setting jay’s brain into haywire, you had such an affect on him but you were the only one who couldn’t realise it.

he abruptly swivels his head forward, not wanting you to catch his embarrassing slip up. your own action caused him to clear his head completely blank, not having any snarky comebacks for your reply.

“remember the jeju day trip in middle school?” jay changed the subject, it caused you to raise an eyebrow before taking a glimpse at him.

you didn’t really understand why he had brought it up, it wasn’t anything significant. you can vaguely even remember the day, the only real memory you had of that day was your aunt dressing you up for it. she had wanted you to look your best, you can’t really thank her for anything since that whole night was truly just unmemorable.

“no” you paused to rack your brain in hopes to find anything to add to his question. “why? was there something worth remembering?”, yet another pout formed on your face from his puzzling question.

“the plane ride there?” he mentioned, trying to jog your memory in hopes to find what he was trying to say. “do you seriously not remember?” he laughs unexpectedly, his voice only sending your heart beating rapidly.

“n-no” a stutter had caught up to your words. you had no idea why he was still giving you this affect. i mean you’ve gotten over him over the course of his absence, right?

“well, remember earlier today, what i told you in front of sunghoon and jake” he rambles on, completely ignoring your embarrassed state. you glance back at him, noticing he was awkwardly playing with his fingers with tinted red ears. you smile to yourself, the boy setting your cheeks on fire with small actions that you didn’t think would even affect you.

“yeah, what about it?”

“i said i had a crush on you” he continued, his words only sending butterflies to your stomach as you tried to put on a calm smile. you only nodded silently, unable to find the correct answer to reply to him with. “on the plan ride to jeju, we sat beside each other” you watched from his side his hands ran through his hair, “you were so talkative and just so bright— happy? something like that. i remember only wanting to talk to you that whole day after we got off the plane, my friends kept teasing me about it and wouldn’t stop asking why i kept glancing at you throughout our whole trip”.

“you’ve liked me since then?” you let out; quietly questioning his comment, your hands cupping your mouth in realisation at your slight mixup of words. “i mean— you started liking me then? up until whenever you’ve stopped liking me? you get what i’m trying to say—”.

“who said i stopped liking you?”

if words could kill, his would of definitely made you drop stone cold onto the ground. you open your mouth, and without surprise nothing came out due to your speechless state of mind. did he really just— was he being serious? that’s all you could think as you blankly stared at his face, eyes slightly widening as a small smirk laced through his lips. you would of comically checked your pulse in front of him as a way to ease this tension but you were too star struck to even move an inch. what was going on?

“h-huh?” only a noise came out of your mouth, desperately yelling at yourself to just even let out a single word. jay only seemed to find humour in this situation, chuckling at your frozen state as he straightened his back. with a step forward he looked back at you, his face being illuminated by the cheap porch light in front of your door. you could only gulp at his figure, somehow looking more like a pictorial pose than a casual pose regular people would normally do.

“you heard me” with his head whipping back to the front of him. he placed both of this hands behind his head, an audible yawn coming out of his mouth to express his drowsiness. “it’s getting late isn’t it?” he had professed quite randomly, a completely different choice of topic than your original one.

“well, yeah...” you replied, your words sounding confused. if someone had asked you what the two of you had been talking about that whole evening, you wouldn’t of been able to tell them anything.

“i should get going then” he stretched his arms gently, an action now raising your eyebrow in suspicion. with your arms crossed you watched as he took a step further away from you, his figure almost disappearing in the darkness of your garden.

“you’re just not gonna explain your last sentence?” you nervously informed the boy of his previous words. the boy only continued his walk down the small pathway in front of the two of you, a laugh being heard even with the distance.

“what do you mean explain?” he taunted, finally reaching the cold metal gate you had earlier made in contact with. the creak of the gate caused you to flinch in shock, you watched as he swiftly made his way past your gate, his feet stopping as he closed it again. staring back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “the explanation’s right there”.

“but—”

“see you tomorrow y/n” he put a stop to your attempt, a small smile dancing happily upon his face as he took off on his journey home. “sweet dreams!” you could faintly hear him as he made his way deeper down your street.

“what— what was that about...” you spoke hesitantly. your words coming out quietly unable to really understand what had happened, something that was happening far too often that day. you understood what he said definitely, but at the same time what did he say? he said the explanation was there but as much as you wanted your brain to believe his words, you couldn’t allow yourself.

you stood there for a good few minutes, your brain trying to come up with reasonable answers; ones that weren’t pointing towards the conclusion that jay park could possibly like you. as in like—like romantically! there was no way you were going to let yourself believe in something as unbelievable as that. letting out a loud sigh you finally make up your mind to go inside your house, not having the energy to even try and make up an excuse to your parents on why you were arriving home so late.

with your hand on the door handle you felt a surprising quick vibration coming from your right pocket. you sweat instantly on the spot, your brain instantly scattering the word jay in the blank spaces in your mind. cautiously, you dipped your hand into your pocket, bracing yourself for a very awkward message from the blond boy.

park sunghoon (3-A) added you to “booth @ festival”

you sighed happily at the notification, until you had realised the previously mentioned boy was also in this group chat. your eyes drifted at sunghoon’s contact name, the formality of it almost begging you to change it into something more casual.

sunghoon: Meeting tomorrow at 7:30AM sharp, please be there on time.

jakey: sure! no promises though

jakey: the bus run’s on it’s own time sometimes

sunghoon: I can excuse that.

jay: why do you type so stiff

you couldn’t help but agree at jay’s off topic tease, sunghoon’s way of typing seemed very formal for a group chat with your classmates. a quiet giggle escaped your mouth as you walked into your house, “i’m home!” you informed your family as you raised your voice one step into your home.

sunghoon: What do you mean?

jay: ok nvm

y/n: i’ll be there!! see you three tmr 🤍

with your hand forcefully taking your shoes off, you lazily typed your reply with one hand with little to no attention on your screen. you felt your heart race rapidly when you realised, out of habit, you send a white heart to the group of boys. cursing to yourself you threw your shoes onto your shoe rack, the position of them awkwardly almost falling off the shelf they were on. you swiftly typed out a reply, trying to explain your small accident without further embarrassing yourself.

y/n: i didn’t mean the heart .

jay: sureee you didn’t

y/n: shut up

jakey: this is like the third time you’ve done that

y/n: STOP IT PLEASE FOR MY OWN SAKE

sunghoon: I think we should stop embarrassing Y/N.

y/n: thank you sunghoon

y/n: ummmm anyways goodnight!

you groaned loudly, knowing it was more than likely that jake and jay would tease you about it the following morning. you felt yourself dramatically falling on your bed, your face being engulfed by your bed sheets as you ran your hands through your head in frustration. the only thing stopping you from screaming your embarrassment out was the fact someone in the room beside you scolded you for making noise so late in the night.

“sorry!” you replied back, your face warm from your burst of energy. “can’t wait for tomorrow” you sarcastically whispered to yourself, bringing yourself to sit properly at the edge of your bed.

in the whole course of a day, nothing had gone to plan. first jay showing up? jake confessing to you? sunghoon (kind of) walking you home? all of this just on day one, you couldn’t even imagine what day two was going to be like.

“cannot wait!”

#prism.nw #enhypenwriters #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #enhypen fanfiction

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yellowmagicalgirl · 2 years

Note

Curious about seasonal amulet au and Jlaire gets kidnapped

Seasonal Amulet

"My King," one of the Wumpas said as she walked over to Toby. "Take your amulet so you may triumph over Blungo."

Toby's eyes widened at the sight of the amulet, and he could hear his friends attempt to stifle their gasps with varying levels of accuracy.

Toby looked between the amulet and his friends. "Um, right," he said, trying not to look like he was panicking. The Amulet of Daylight had said Jim's name. This amulet wasn't saying Toby's name. It wasn't saying anyone's name, and the Quagawumps wanted him to use it to defeat someone?

Granted, some armor that wasn't a cardboard box and a saucepan would be pretty good, but still! Blinky hadn't said that the Shattered King had been a Trollhunter! Probably summer or fall, since the amulet was golden with an orange stone. The hands were more curved than the ones on Jim's.

Basically, this was an AU (created pre-season 3, and while I adapted some to fit season 3, Wizards gets tossed out a window) where, after creating the Amulet of Daylight, Merlin created four amulets to correspond to the seasons and support the main trollhunter... or at least, that was his intention. However, he died before he could complete the Amulet of Winter, and the other three were lost to time until Toby managed to find one.

Jlaire gets kidnapped

As Jim walked towards his bike, he overheard half of Claire’s conversation on the phone. It’s not like he had been trying to linger behind after play practice, he just had to tie his shoe.

Which had already been tied.

Okay, maybe he had been trying to linger for a bit so he could talk to Claire without having to deal with Steve making fun of him, but she seemed to be busy. His shoulders slumped, but he sighed and began to unlock his bike. He’d get a chance to talk to her some day.

“If you’re that held up, I could just walk home,” she said, and he could see her roll her eyes. “Okay, Papi. I’ll see you in forty-five minutes. Love you too, Papi.” She hung up her phone and looked around the dark campus nervously.

“Hey, um, are you okay?” Jim asked her. She looked towards him, slightly startled.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be fine,” she said. “My parents don’t want me walking home this late at night; they think I’ll get kidnapped or something.” By the way her eyes kept darting towards the shadows, it seemed like her Papi’s words had spooked her.

“Do you want me to give you a ride home?” Jim asked, already inwardly cursing himself. A ride home? On his bike that was intended for only one person? That didn’t seem like an option she’d go for. “If not, I can wait with you if you want.”

“You sure?” Claire tucked a strand of hair over her ear. “About staying with me; my parents would be even more worried if a guy took me home. But don’t you need to get home?”

“I’ll be fine; my mom won’t be home for another three hours anyways.” He re-locked his bike to the rack before going to stand next to her. “So how do you think you did on the history quiz?”

“Alright, though I wasn’t too sure about the question on Confucianism. Did you get B or – what is that?” With the hand that wasn’t holding onto her phone she pointed at the glowing golden circle that was beginning to wrap around the two of them.

Jim pulled out his own phone, turned on the flashlight, and began to look around for who was putting on the weird light show. He saw no one, and as he tried to reach his arm out of the circle he hit a barrier. Runes formed around the circle, shooting golden light into the sky.

“What’s going on?” Claire asked. As she said that, the inner edge of the golden circle turned to a dark purple, and the ground the teens stood upon turned an inky black.

As the two of them fell through, they didn’t have time to scream.

This was based off a dream I had. Morgana kidnapped Jim and Claire to turn them into soldiers. The fic would've bounced between the two of them trying to survive as Morgana uses their magic to change and warp them, while their family and their friends/classmates all try to launch their own kidnapping investigations, each managing to discover the supernatural separately in a way that probably would have some Stranger Things parallels.

Ask me about my WIP’s

#toby domzalski #jlaire #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #my writing #answered ask #rockymountainvixen #seasonal amulet au

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queenxxxsupreme · 3 years

Note

Hi! Could you write an Arthur Morgan x reader where one of the gang gets lost in a snowstorm and the reader knows how to deal with this weather so she offers to go look? ☺️

A/N: I am so sorry this sort of strayed away from the prompt! Reader and Arthur are the ones who actually ended up getting lost and this takes place just before Colter.... If you don’t like this babe, I have no problem doing another! Also, I’m sorry this took quite a bit! My weekend did not go to plan. I hope you like it! And I’m sorry my hand slipped.... It’s 3.4k words...

***

Arthur cast a glance over his shoulder at you, wanting to make sure you weren’t lagging behind.

Your horse, a golden palomino you promptly named Butternut, was having some difficulty traversing the deep snow, but with your little words of encouragement and pats on the shoulder and neck, she seemed to be pushing through.

“You alright back there?” He called over his shoulder.

“Just dandy.” You looked up at him, taking your eyes off of Butternut’s mane. Her hair was frozen and collecting snow but you were trying to wipe it away in an attempt to keep her as warm as possible.

“Hopefully we’ll find somethin’ soon.”

“That map Hosea gave us said we should’ve found something nearly thirty minutes ago.” You tucked your hands into the pockets of your coat. “You sure you’re reading it right, Morgan?”

“I know how to read a map.” He grumbled, pulling the map out of his bag to take another look at it.

The two of you had been traveling for well over two hours through the snow in a desperate attempt to find shelter for the gang. They were holed up somewhere just east of Lake Isabella, but you were traveling north along the Spider Gorge.

“This wind is getting too cold, Mr. Morgan. Put your mask up to cover your face.” You pulled the black and white plaid bandana from around your neck up over your nose. You almost sighed in relief at the warmth provided by the thick material.

“M’fine.” He grumbled, his deep baritone almost drowned out by the heavy wind.

“I don’t care if you’re fine right now, Arthur. Within the hour, your nose and lips will suffer from frostbite.”

He said nothing in response to you, blue eyes flickering over the map as his horse continued along the trail.

“Mr. Morgan, don’t make me ask you again. I won’t be so kind.”

“This cold weather sure does make you mean, Ms. Y/L/N.” Arthur pulled his mask up over his nose, glancing over to you as you moved your horse up beside his.

“I’ve seen what this cold weather can do to stubborn fools.”

“I’ve heard that one before.” He muttered, passing you the map. You brought your horse to a stop, so he did the same. “Think we got side tracked from that little establishment Hosea mentioned. If my thoughts and judgement are correct, I’d say we’re about here.” He pointed to the area between the home of a poor woman the gang had just taken in named Sadie Adler and Colter, the abandoned settlement the gang was aiming to lay low in for a short time.

“You think we passed Colter?” You looked over to Arthur.

“Had to have. There ain’t no way we didn’t. We should’ve found it by now.”

“I don’t think it’s that easy to miss a whole town, Arthur.” You looked back at the map, your eyes following Spider Gorge. You’d followed that very creek nearly the entire way north. There was no way you’d missed Colter.

“Hard to tell with these mountains and all this damned snow. Can’t see shit with the wind blowin’ in our faces either.” He grumbled, carefully snapping the reins to make his horse move.

You folded the map up and followed alongside him.

“That’s ‘cause ole Arthur Morgan is used to warm weather. He isn’t used to the beauty of the Grizzlies.”

“And you are?” He cocked a brow at you.

Beneath your mask, you wore a small but proud smile.

“I grew up around Tempest Rim. This weather ain’t new to me, cowboy.”

Your romantic relationship with Arthur was fairly new, so he had yet to learn every detail about your past. He took mentally took note of this detail, reminding himself that he’d have to jot it down in his journal at a later time.

You let out a sigh, pulling him from his thoughts. Your eyes were focused on the mountains to the west where the sun was setting.

“Sun’s goin’ down. We’re loosing daylight. Means it’ll only get colder from here.”

“Can’t turn around now.” Arthur shook his head. “Too long of a trip back to the gang. It would take most of the night.”

“I wasn’t suggesting we give up. But we need shelter of some sort. Somewhere a little warm to rest. And the horses need a break.”

“Well if we keep goin’ this way, all we’re gonna find is Mrs. Adler’s burned down house.” Arthur gestured in the direction you had been going.

“Burned down? What happened to it? I thought you said O’Driscolls just got a hold of her.”

“Micah happened.”

You sighed.

“She did have a barn or two on her property.” Arthur thought out loud. “They shouldn’t have gotten burnt down with the house.”

“You think it’s worth a look?”

“We can go see about that, or we can go back and try to find Colter.”

You didn’t think that you had passed Colter just yet, but you didn’t want to argue with him. Arguing and fighting in such extreme conditions wasn’t ideal, nor did it seem necessary.

“Let’s try Mrs. Adler’s place.”

Arthur nodded, clicking his tongue twice to get his horse moving.

***

The sun had gone down and snow began to fall from the sky.

Arthur was sure that you should’ve reached Sadie Adler’s ranch by now, but he wasn’t sure why it was taking so long.

“Arthur, maybe we should stop and make camp.” Your voice was quiet and uneasy. You didn’t like the idea of making camp out in the open. It was dangerous. Not only were you open to the bitter elements, but to the chance O’Driscolls finding you too.

“We can’t stop yet, pumpkin.” He turned his head to look at you.

You were visibly shivering but you were trying your best to remain strong for him. He needed you to be strong.

“What happened to you bein’ my strong mountain woman?” He teased, slowing his horse down a bit so he could move alongside you. “Don’t tell me this Grizzly weather is gettin’ to you.”

A little smile tugged at your slightly chapped lips.

“Course not. Just-Just worried about Butternut. She ain’t used to this. Blackwater is so much nicer and warmer than up here, and that’s all she’s used to.”

Arthur let go of the reins to his horse with one hand, reaching over to pat your thigh.

“We’ll find somewhere warm for Butternut to stay.”

Your eyes were focused ahead of you so instead of watching Arthur, you were focused on what was waiting for you on the path ahead. The faint outline of what looked like a building made you jolt.

“Arthur, look!”

He looked in the direction you point.

“That don’t look like Mrs. Adler’s barn.”

“It has to be Colter.” You nudged your horse to make her move faster. You were all too eager to get her out of the elements.

“Y/N, hold on a second!” Arthur called after you, but you were already gone. “Damn it, woman.”

You made it into the abandoned town first, eyes flickering around to make sure you were alone. At first glance, you were alone. The place was vacant.

A sudden burst of wind made your horses uneasy and made you grasp the hood on your head, fearing it would fall off.

Arthur came up beside you, carefully inspecting the main street of Colter. He pulled the mask down from his nose.

“I’m gonna put the horses in this old barn.” He gestured to your right. “Just hope it don’t cave in on them in the middle of the night.”

“Arthur.” You scolded him. He grinned, knowing he was only teasing you.

“After that, I’ll make sure we’re the only ones here. You wanna get what we need and go into that building right behind you?”

You nodded and got down from your horse. You got as much as you could from your horse and from Arthur’s, taking what you needed as far as bedding and food, and made your way to the building Arthur talked about.

Unsurprisingly, the house was empty. It consisted of one main room with a large fireplace in the center and three rooms off of the main room.

You put the things in your hands down on the floor near the fireplace. Slipping the knife out of its holster on your hip, you moved to the room to your right.

The floorboards creaked beneath your boots. It was evident no one had been there in a long time. There were cobwebs everywhere. The glass to the windows were broken, but they were boarded up too so that stopped some of the bitter cold air from coming inside.

The room to your right contained a grinding wheel and a workbench. Seeing that nothing would be useful there, you continued to the next room. This room seemed to be a living space of some sort. There was a bed, a dresser, and an end table inside the room.

After searching the dresser and the end table, you went to the final room. It was set up similarly to the other bedroom, except this one had a large bed that was clearly meant for two people.

In the corner of the room closest to the doorway was a small stack of firewood. You immediately became excited over the sight of the wood. Maybe you could start a fire in the fireplace. The very idea of heat almost brought tears to your eyes.

***

Arthur slipped into the house, closing the door behind himself. He looked around, surveying the room.

You were knelt down by the fireplace, trying to start a fire with a matchbook.

“What’re you doin’?” He asked.

“Trying to get us some sorta heat.” You struck the match and put it into the fireplace. “We need some sorta kindling. The wood ain’t gonna light by itself.”

“Where’d you find that wood?”

“In one of the back rooms.” You stood up, passing him the matchbook. “I have a few newspaper articles from a few weeks ago when we were in New Austin. They’re in one of my saddle bags.”

“But ain’t those for your collection?” Arthur watched you as you started for the door.

“Yeah.”

“Pumpkin, you don’t gotta use those newspapers.”

You stopped at the door, your hand on the knob.

“We need the heat, Arthur.”

“I got paper in my journal.” He started to pull his journal out but you were quick to stop him.

“No!” You rushed to his side, stopping him from pulling the journal out of his satchel. “Don’t you dare ruin that new journal, Arthur Morgan. I just bought it for you.”

“I know, but I don’t want you to destroy your newspapers. I know you like to collect all the ones with strange news reportings and those ones from New Austin talk about a bunch of weird things.”

“I’m sure I can find more later on, Arthur.” You kept your hand on his that rested on his satchel. “Do not ruin that journal. Do not tear any papers out. I am using my newspapers so we can have a fire tonight.”

Arthur frowned, shaking his head softly.

“Pumpkin-,”

“Don’t pumpkin me, cowboy.” You cut him off, leaning up on your toes to give his slightly chapped lips a gentle kiss. “If you so much as rip one paper from that journal, you’ll be relying on only the fire’s warmth tonight.”

He sighed, watching you move across the room and slip out of the house.

***

A few minutes later, you return with the newspapers. They’re folded neatly under your arm. In one hand, you hold a bottle of gin and in the other is a bottle of whiskey.

“I figured we could do with a little to drink tonight.” You explained as you set the two bottles of liquor down on the mantle above the fireplace.

“That’s a bit more than a little to drink.” Arthur commented.

“I didn’t know which one you’d want.”

He nodded, standing up from the chair he had been sitting in. He picked the chair up and moved towards the front door. He propped the chair beneath the doorknob and wedged it there so that no one would be able to come in.

You watched him and when he turned around to face you, your eyes met.

“Just wanna make sure we’re safe tonight.”

You nodded.

You knelt down in front of the fire, placing the small stack of newspapers in front of you on the floor.

“If we rip the paper in half and twist it up, it’ll burn better.” You explained, taking the top piece of paper and ripping it in half. It hurt to see the newspaper go, but you knew it wasn’t as important as your life or as Arthur’s. The temperatures were too low to go without a fire through the night.

Arthur knelt down beside you, assisting you with the process of ripping the newspaper up and twisting it. Then the twisted pieces were placed into the fire below and around the pieces of firewood.

You picked up the matchbook from the floor and struck a match. You watched the flame for a few moments, then threw it into the fireplace. The paper caught on fire almost immediately. This would give the wood a chance to heat up and catch flame too.

Arthur’s eyes flickered to you. You were staring into the heat, a little smile adorning your lips. He could see the sadness in your eyes. You really did like collecting newspapers. It was the one thing you enjoyed doing. Everyone at camp knew you liked it too, and sometimes they’d bring you back clippings and papers if they thought you’d enjoy the piece on it.

Arthur took off one of his gloves and slipped his hand around the back of your neck, drawing you in to him. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Your hands are freezin’, Morgan.” You giggled.

He chuckled, letting you go and putting his hands closer to the fire.

“Sorry, pumpkin.”

“I’ll start gettin’ our beds set up.”

“Beds?” He repeated, emphasizing on the s. Arthur looked over his shoulder to watch you go to the bedrolls that were not to far away from him. “We ain’t sharin’?”

“I never said that.”

“You said beds. Our beds.”

“My apologies, Mr. Morgan.” You grinned, looking over to him. “I’ll get our bed set up.”

“Much better, pumpkin. Apology accepted.” He winked at you.

You stood up straight, placing your hands on your hips. Arthur stood up and stepped back from the fire, putting himself a foot or so away from you.

“If we’re gonna share a sleeping area, how should we go about this? One bedroom ain’t gonna fit us both.”

“It will if you squeeze. I’ll suck it in.”

“Suck what in?”

“My gut.” He patted his stomach, a grin playing on his lips. You giggled, rolling your eyes.

“That ain’t the problem. The problem is no matter how much suckin’ in either of us do, we’re too much for one of the bed rolls.”

Arthur looked at the bedrolls then to the fire.

“Well, we can make it work. You get in both ours and I’ll lay on the floor by you holdin’ you. We’ll be by the fire. I don’t need nothin’ but you.”

“Arthur, I’m not doin’ that.” You shook your head.

“What if I want you to?” He tilted his head to the side. “You know how overheated I get sometimes when I’m sleepin. I don’t need a blanket with all these layers I have on right now plus sleepin’ so close to the fire. But you, Miss Y/L/N, I can’t have you gettin’ cold tonight.”

“Oh, I know you wouldn’t let me get cold, Mr. Morgan.” You smiled. “But I can’t take both bedrolls.”

“I beg to differ, pumpkin.” He picked up his bed roll and put it down far enough from the fire that it wasn’t a safety hazard but close enough that you could still feel the heat. Arthur took your bedroll and tucked it into his own, giving you double the bedding.

“Arthur, I don’t like it.”

“Well tough shit. I already told you how I’m sleepin’ tonight. I wanna be able to wrap my arms around you and hold you close.”

You frowned as you looked down at the bedrolls. This would mean that not only would you be the only one with a blanket of some sort tonight, but you’d also be the only one not sleeping directly on the hard and freezing cold floor.

“Arthur, can’t we just try somethin’ else? M’not gonna sleep good knowin’ you’re on the hard floor. And these floorboards are far too creaky and drafty for you to be sleepin’ on them without anything.”

He let out a sigh, glancing around the room.

“Well, we got another option.” His eyes landed on one of the bedrooms. “We could pull a mattress out here and throw the bedrolls over it. That way we ain’t sleepin’ directly on the floor or the old mattress.”

You thought about the idea for a few moments, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Any other day, you’d pass and sleep on the floor. But it was too cold and you could feel a draft coming from between the floorboards. A mattress could stop that.

“Okay.”

As Arthur left the main room to retrieve a mattress, you moved the bedrolls out of the way. He came back in a few moments later with the smaller of the two mattresses in the house.

He placed it in front of the fire and allowed you to fix the makeshift bed to your liking.

You laid out both bedrolls to cover the mattress and provide protection between you and the old mattress. Then you shed your thick coat knowing you could use it better as a blanket.

“You think we can both squeeze on to that mattress?” Arthur asked, gesturing to the mattress on the floor.

“We’ll find out in the mornin’ when we see if one of us have fallen off.” You grinned a little, settling down on the mattress. It wasn’t luxurious by any means, but it beat riding on horseback all night in the snow. “Make sure you grab those drinks before you get down here, Mr. Morgan.”

He retrieved the gin and whiskey from the mantle, placing them down on the floor by the mattress, then he got down on the mattress behind you. You were sitting facing the fire. This put your back to Arthur, but he didn’t mind.

You took the gin, opened it up, and took a swig. The piney liquor was exactly what you needed. It seemed to fit in well with the atmosphere as you looked at the fire.

“How do you reckon we got lost?” You looked over your shoulder to him, offering him the gin. He took it and drunk from it before answering.

“Think we must’ve gotten off the road at some point. Made it feel like we’d traveled longer or something like that.”

You nodded, looking back to the fire.

“What happened at Blackwater, Arthur?” Your voice lowered and a solemn tone took over.

Arthur didn’t answer you immediately as he leaned back on his elbow. His eyes studied the side of your face, brows drawn together just slightly.

“I don’t know, pumpkin. Wish I did know, but I didn’t have time to ask Dutch or anyone who was there.” He tapped the gin bottle against the side of your arm. You looked down and took it from him.

“You think they’ll be okay when we get back to them?”

“Course they’ll be okay, Y/N.”

“Well, we were gone longer than we were supposed to be. The weather was bad down there by Lake Isabella. Just hope they were able to stay warm.”

Arthur sat up and moved a little closer to you, kissing the side of your cheek once he could reach you.

“They’ll be just fine, pumpkin. They got Dutch and Hosea lookin’ after them. And Javier and Charles are plenty able to make sure everyone’s okay too.”

“What about John?”

“Well…. John’s a different story.” Arthur sighed. “But m’sure John’s okay too. He’s got dumb luck.”

You nodded, knowing Arthur was right.

“We need to sleep.” He reminded you, laying down on the mattress.

You put the bottle of gin down and shifted down to lay next to Arthur.

“You got any more space over there, pumpkin? M’nearly rollin’ off the edge.” He grunted a little, moving around a bit. The springs squeak under his weight. “I can only suck it in so much, Miss Y/L/N.”

You giggled, thankful that he had the ability to lighten the mood.

“Good night, Arthur.”

“Good night, pumpkin.”

Taglist: @doggone-cowgirl @winterwolf @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @krenee1drful @zodiacaldust @nonodino @gabstaroc @cal-lifornication @thefirelordm @sargeantsea

if your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#Arthur Morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan x reader fluff #Arthur Morgan fluff #Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan asks #Arthur Morgan ask #rdr2 Arthur Morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #kacey answers #rdr2 one shot

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comradeacerbus · 3 years

Text

Miraak Headcannons (for fanfic)

Okay, so, I’ve been planning a Skyrim fic for some time now. I started one, but it fell through due to a lack of proper planning. Now that I know what I’m doing, I’m gonna try again! I’m just posting some notes on everyone’s favorite jackass here because I needed something to post. Obviously, since this is my fic, I’ll be referencing my granola-crunching pacifist Dragonborn, Haldis Ragnardottir.

Bethesda didn’t give us much to work with but that just makes it more interesting. I’m just getting a feel for his personality now so I can keep him consistent.

* Miraak was already getting up there in age by the time his revolt against Alduin fell through, so he’s a bit old and grey now. Maybe in his sixties physically, though he looks more past his use by date because of how Oblivion has affected his outward appearance.

* Stupidly tall because, yknow, Atmorans.

* He’s a dirty old man. He doesn’t come off that way initially, but internally, Miraak is a pervert. While he won’t get physical with women, he won’t hesitate to say something pervy.

* Just because he’s a bit pervy doesn’t mean he’s promiscuous. He certainly has game, I imagine, but he feels he’s too old to go throwing his weight around. It’s mostly for his own entertainment

* He loves to make people uncomfortable, especially our little baby Dwagonbown. Constantly picking on her, saying weird pervy shit, just constantly flustering her for his own amusement.

* A really good talker, can worm his way out of any bad situation with his words. He’s also a natural politician. He can make any insane remark and easily justify it to anyone who’s willing to listen to him.

* He’s no liar though. Not unlike Odahviing, he might not tell the whole truth, but he won’t tell much in the way of lies. He’ll just manipulate the truth. It’s no wonder he was so able to lead a cult, really.

* Literate in multiple languages. Obviously the Imperial language spoke in Tamriel and Dovahzul, but he is also fluent in Daedric and has dabbled in Falmer and Dwemer dialects as well, though he dislikes the cultures themselves as an Atmoran. He probably started looking into them out of sheer boredom in Apocrypha.

* He’s definitely looked into more than just languages in his time in Oblivion. He’s looked into various magics, histories of ancient civilizations, Aedra, Daedra, trades, and everything in between. In other words, Miraak knows his shit about a lot of things.

* In spite of how much he knows about a wide range of subjects, a jack of all trades is a master of none. He’s not talented in all the fields he’s studied, but he’s honed his main skills to a fine point. Namely the art of shouting, various styles of swordplay, and the main schools of magic.

* He frowns very strongly upon thieving and sneaking about. Subtly is one thing, but being sneaky and deceitful is a whole nother ball game to him. He dislikes the idea of assassinations, especially the use of poison. He much prefers the ancient Atmoran-Nordic tradition of openly challenging an authority figure for his seat.

* Under all the arrogance, Miraak actually does have some wisdom to him, and he does learn from his and others’ mistakes. He likes to pretend that he didn’t change after narrowly escaping Apocrypha, simply because he doesn’t want to admit that what he did was wrong, but he certainly has changed some of his views.

* Simply speaking of Oblivion’s Princes makes him uncomfortable because he wants nothing to do with them now, though he’d never admit that he’s afraid. He might be garbage in a lot of ways, but he’s definitely still human.

* Apocrypha has most certainly disfigured him, as well as the night Vahlok and his legion of Dragons burned his temple to the ground. He has some burns scars on his chest and some smaller ones on his face. They no doubt would have been worse, were it not for the metal of his mask. Apocrypha has made his skin pasty and his hair white and nasty looking no matter how much he cleans himself or walks around in the daylight. His sclera are also darkened permanently. He doesn’t wear his mask anymore, and instead prefers his hood when he returns to Tamriel, but he won’t usually show his face to anyone, aside from the Dragonborn, because he’s ashamed of what his choices have done to his body.

* He’s of an ectomorph body type. He’s super tall and towers over Haldis, but he’s not especially muscular. He’s got the broad shoulders of an early Nord, but he’s actually quite skinny. I imagine he tries his best to bulk up with his robes. The other cult leaders most certainly poked fun at him for him.

* After he and Haldis bury the hatchet and accept that they’re stuck together, I imagine he starts to see her as a niece/granddaughter/little sister figure. She doesn’t know much about shouting combatively, and he knows that her overall lack of fighting experience is likely to get her killed, so he begins teaching her from the ground up. It’s initially a thing out of necessity, but he later grows to enjoy it. Not like he’d admit it.

* He may have changed a little since his imprisonment, but he’ll still keep his pride forever. It’s what got him stuck with Herma-Mora, and it’s what got him through so much time in Oblivion.

* The main thing he was worried about for the time of his imprisonment was that he’d turn into a Seeker, but his will as a Dragonborn is likely what kept him from turning, so he’ll cling to his arrogance and his stubbornness till death does him part from Mundus.

* Yeah, he’s old fashioned and very stubborn, but he’s not unreasonable. He’ll listen to one’s argument, but with how well-spoken he is, he usually “wins” the debate, ultimately.

* Even if he is reasonable in the realm of debate, he will stop at nothing to get what he wants, even if it means using or hurting people to do so. This is a result of his inner Dovah. Haldis finds this rather insufferable and it’s one of the main reasons as to why they fight.

* When he gets drunk, he’ll sort of “forget” it’s not the Merithic Era anymore and will start speaking to people in Dovahzul and then get pissy when only Haldis can understand him. He doesn’t normally like to drink in his ripe old age, though, so it’s not something that happens often.

* A similar thing will also happen when he gets angry. He never loses his temper, but when he gets frustrated, he’ll start belting out Dovahzul rapidly.

* He may also speak Dovahzul to Haldis when trying to be subtle. For example, Haldis has to deal a lot in Skyrim’s politics as a diplomat, so if Miraak needs to tell her something or remind her to say something, he’ll tell her in Dovahzul so she doesn’t look dumb.

* The Dovahzul he speaks is a different dialect, though, given their difference in age, so things have been lost in translation from time time, resulting in small, humorous mishaps. He also finds Haldis’s accent when speaking Dovahzul to be very irritating, and mocks her for it quite a bit, usually saying that she sounds like she has a speech impediment.

* As her accent gets better, in his almighty opinion, they’ll have entire conversations together in Dovahzul when they’re alone, like out on the road or something.

I might reblog and take on some more here later. This is just some basic junk that’s not really organized. Also I did not proofread but shhhh

#ao3 fanfic #planning #character notes #Miraak #headcannons #Skyrim #I don’t understand why I have a thing for Peter Jessop’s characters but that’s okay whatever #Dragonborn #yayyyy

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