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thevirgincherry · 3 months

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SCHADENFREUDE !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. p in v, kidnapper/victim relationship, stockholm syndrome, he puts u in the trunk of his car :3, sorta painal, squirting, slapping/hitting a lot.. of it, not non-con or dub-con but he keeps calling it that idk, painful sex, suicide mention cuz it’s leonnnn, sadism

note. haiii a follow up to rotten luck title has nothing to do w the fic i think :3 his character changes like every 5 mins im sorry .. readers character changed a lot too omg just blame it on stockholm! umm sorry for any mistakes please ignore them :3 rbs and feedback so appreciated :3

rotten luck

tumblr removes fics that use, for example, tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

“What’re you doing?” With a foot in the door, Leon spots you hunched over the mantlepiece.

You jump like you do when he makes a noise over thirty decibels. Luckily, you’re housebroken now, just about, so there’s no piss. Or tears. He has no desire to deal with tears. Or piss or any fluid for that matter. Leon has bad days, and then he has worse days, then there are awful days– It’s only a bad day, but that doesn’t mean he wants to spend his time forcing your head into a puddle of your own piss. Fundamentally, piss is not his concern, he’s potty-trained and has been for a good thirty-four years. He’d like to think a good forty-three years, but he was a criminal bedwetter up until the ripe age of twelve. Foster system does that to you. You make the piss Leon’s concern when you do it on his floor–

“What’re you doing?” Leon asks once more when he wrenches himself away from his piss tangent. He decides to let you off for not answering the first time ‘cause he’s generous like that. Quietly, as everything you do is scarce and ghostlike, you point at the printed photos on his mantle with great interest. There’s three because Leon only really gives a shit about three people. They shouldn’t be out in the open like that. Leon doesn’t remember leaving them out, so he’d like to blame you, but maybe this is a sign of early-onset dementia.

“Who’s she?” You nod to Ashley first, pressed to his side so tightly, so lovingly, so sure that he loves her bombardment. Her affection, whatever it is that she insists it is. He thinks back to tearing her from the clutches of emaciated beings and wonders how he can stand here so normally. As if nothing ever happened. Ashley’s name is the one in the back of his throat, shattered and bloody like glass in a domestic dispute. Then again, he is face to face with his kidnapping victim and all. So it’s not very normal when he looks at the bigger picture. Far from normal, abnormal at the very least. Fucking deranged might be the right term.

“My ex,” Leon lies to see the look of disdain that crosses your face, the unpleasant curl of your lips that irons out when he pets your head. Whether it be for him or Ashley, he wouldn’t like to know. “Joking, baby, I saved her,” Leon settles on saved because there is no other way to explain it, and because he would love for you to know that they’re not his other kidnapping victims and that you’re his one and only kidnappee and he might be impulsive, but he’s not stupid enough to take pictures of and with kidnapped girls. Well, Ashley was a kidnapped girl, not his kidnapped girl, however.

Leon is very feminist, rescuing slender-ankled maidens is his speciality, you’re just an outlier. “I saved her,” he says when you nod at Manuela next, and then for Sherry, he pauses, “I saved her.” Sherry’s face goads him into cowardice, blowing his brains out is difficult when she’s sitting on his shoulder at all times like a Vatican cherub, covalently bonded to his heart or his soul. Whichever matters after you die. “You want a picture too, baby? Autograph?” He kisses your kidnapped little fingers with the guilt of a man who has been pointlessly guilty all his life - now literally guilty by CJS standards for the four months you’ve been captive.

You smile at him, and consequently his drops. “I’m good,” you say, smiling your real smile. It upsets him. “I’ve got the real thing.” When you talk too much he remembers that you’re not a toy or a plaything or anything of the sort. That you’re a real girl.

Sometimes Leon has these moments of startling clarity. You kidnapped a girl ‘cause mommy didn’t love you enough, but daddy hit you hard enough to knock the functioning parts of your brain out of place. You kidnapped a girl ‘cause you got touched back in boot camp, ‘cause you’ve seen a couple hundred people die.

At this point, he simply can’t move on, but he can give up. Every night the gun under his pillow digs into the hollows of his skull. It’s just that Leon can’t leave you, his lucky little girl, he feels responsible for the state you’re in. Stockholm and all. That wasn’t his intention, he’d rather you be dead out of sheer terror, your frail little heart would give out mid Leon’s fucked up chimaera that is part nasty, hot sex and part brutal beating and the most he would have to do is bury your bones in his backyard.

Pretend you never existed. Your name fades into obscurity like every other name does. Your face is just another face. And no one truly cares in the end. America’s love is limited, its affections will go elsewhere, to a prettier kidnapped girl in California or a younger one in Maine. The police will pass you off as a runaway soon enough, and no one would ever have to mourn a bodiless casket. What a mess. Leon didn’t mean to be so charming, didn’t mean to make you fall for him, he didn’t know girls these days were so into getting raped on the daily. Now he’s facing the repercussions of his sex appeal. God forbid he exists in sexy peace.

You gotta make everything his problem, don’t you? Lucky little thing. Leon wonders if you’ve ever had to do anything for yourself. Wonders, ponders, thinks, but he won’t pry. ‘Cause it makes him feel, like, really fucking sucky. That he plucked you out of your perfect little life ‘cause his life is the shittiest little life in this piece of shit world.

He struggles to even utter your name– Your name, god, he bets it was picked out so delicately, so carefully– And that pisses Leon off ‘cause his dad named Leon after his favourite hooker, remove the A from Leona and there you have it! Italian enough for his ma too, hit a perfect sweet spot. Now he’s upset, the perennial guilt has wilted and he’s just fucking exasperated by you. By your luck. By your shamelessness. What twisted little bitch sits there and gloats about having the real thing in reference to her kidnapper. In actuality, it’s Leon that has the real thing.

Leon knocks you down like you’re made of styrofoam. That little yelp never gets old. You see, he’s been struck by this awful migraine and he wants you to feel the same. You should ache like he does, but you don’t ‘cause you’re young and healthy and he makes you go to bed at an appropriate time ‘cause it’s his duty as your kidnapper to make sure you don’t die out of neglect - death via beating is fine and understandable.

You sit at his feet so sweetly, a stray dog that’s wandered into the shrine of a lonely god, curling up at the foot of a wooden statuette to seek some form of solace. Unfortunately for you, Leon is no god, just a normal man with a heart and a soul and a dick that thinks for itself. He does what any man with a dumb dick would do - grabs you by the ankle and lugs you towards the bedroom like a deer carcass. It’s slightly comical, and he knows that ‘cause he hears you giggle a little.

“Rape is nothin’ to laugh about, sweetheart,” Leon says ‘cause that’s the plan, he drops you down on the bed with a thunk. Is it even rape when the other party, a very much kidnapped party, is enjoying it? Truly, you suck the joy out of his life.

“Sorry, Leon,” you go slack and stupid the second he gropes your tit, he’s not one for foreplay, it bores him most days. He’ll eat your pussy ‘cause he likes the taste, but he’s old and his cock is on its last legs and the moment his shit jumps to life it’s best to get it in ASAP.

“It’s okay, baby,” Leon lifts the hem of your shirt, “I know you’re really fuckin’ stupid, so don’t worry ‘bout it, yeah?” God, he’s way too nice. He pulls the shirt over your head and you’re left bare.

“Thank you, Leon,” You’re well-mannered, he’ll give you that, polite little thing, it's terribly endearing, has the walls of his gristly heart caving in.

“You’re very welcome, baby,” he hums, unzipping his jeans to get his dick out before it ultimately droops. Your cunt is sopping, takes to his fingers easily, he curls them upwards to hear those slick clicks. “Spread ‘em.” Leon taps your thigh, and you bend your knees outwards, a foot flat on the bed. It’s nice that you’re wet for him and all, does wonders for his ego, but loose holes are no fun.

“Not there,” you’re so cute when you whine, would look so cute stuffed in the trunk of his car, god. He’d even put a pillow between your thighs to give that cunt some friction. Keep you entertained while he drives aimlessly.

“Baby, you should know better,” Leon chides, spreads your ass and eyes up your tighter hole. “Didn’t ask you, did I?”

“Nuh-uh, Leon.” Comes your automated response.

“What did I tell you?”

“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” you relay the words like you’re reading from a rulebook.

Creepy. Makes him shudder. Maybe Leon did Stockholm you purposefully, he didn’t expect you to respond so well, he was just saying shit. Like, shit that comes out of his mouth when he’s horny, and your sick little brain took his word as law. So, like, that’s your fault and you’re making it his problem. ‘Cause everyone loves to make everything Leon’s problem.

“God, you’re such a clever girl, baby,” he coos because he is so kind and gracious, giving out praise left and right. The tip of Leon’s cock is sticky, drags it through the seam of your cunt to part your folds, kisses your clit with the fat head. There’s a slight gape to your puckered hole when he grabs your ass cheek to open you up. Leon’s forced his way in countless times before, it’s no different this time. With a cock lubed by precum and your drippy cunt, he pushes into your asshole mercilessly.

“That’s a cute face, sweetheart, you gonna do that for me again?” Leon asks, taking a handful of tit as he admires the pain washing over your face— The divot between your brows that he smooths over with his thumb, a quivering bottom lip, eyes screwed shut ‘cause you’re trying to take his fat cock like a good girl should. You make it so easy to hurt you.

“Leon,” you whimper when he bottoms out. His cock kicks inside you, he pulls out to be mean, carves out space and your hole flutters ‘cause it’s so empty— Leon forces his way back in, till the ring of muscle swallows up the base of his cock, and his balls smack wetly against the fat of your ass. Two fingers find their way into your sloppy pussy once more, he feels the ridges of his cock through the spongy, thin walls of your cunt, and you’re liking it too much, fucking him back far too enthusiastically when his thumb presses down on your pulsing clit.

“You’re gonna cum like this, sweetheart,” Leon tells you matter-of-factly, removes his fingers with a pop! and wipes the milky cream dribbling down his wrist on your tummy. “Can you do that for me?”

“No, Leon, I can’t,” you shake your head, trembling fingers wrapping around his wrist to guide him back to your puffy clit.

“Yes you can, baby, you’re gonna do it for me aren’t you?” He tuts, breaking free from your sorry excuse of a grip to lay a firm smack on your jaw. It sends your head to the right, hears your neck crack, he’s sure. “We don’t use words like ‘no’ do we?”

“No…”

Aw, that was a trick question— He gives you another smack to force your head to the left. A little brain damage goes a long way. Keeps you obedient. When you get over the dizziness and face him head-on, you try to blink away the tears to no avail, they roll down your cheeks in pearlescent blobs. Clicker training is unneeded when you have a firm hand. It’s worked so well, any mention of your life outside of the time spent in his home and he’s punching your lights out, now you talk to Leon about Leon, and you think of Leon, and you fuck Leon and you love him– Jesus, okay, he did Stockholm you real fucking bad. No wonder you’re so weird.

Leon rabbits into you, short and shallow thrusts ‘cause it’s harder for you to breathe that way with his cock constantly pushing and jabbing and— Fuck, he’s practically reshaping your insides at such a brutal pace.

“I knew you could do it,” Leon snickers, presses hard on your abdomen to help you cum— And you’re so cute when you do, writhing and lifting your hips up and just looking a little stupid. There’s a stuttered breath, then you’re squirting in sharp bursts, from his cock in your ass alone. “There we go— You did it, baby, did so well—“ He is so fucking sweet to you, talking you through your high and shit. “You love getting your ass fucked don’t you?”

When you don’t respond, too busy trying to recover from an orgasm that’s left you boneless, Leon knocks some sense into you. “I do,” you gasp, teeth clattering like they always do when he hits you. “I do, Leon, I do, I love it— Love you.”

Holy shit. He hates it. That’s what drives him over the edge, that’s what makes him fuck his load into your ass till it’s dripping back down his shaft, that’s what gets his legs all shaky? It sickens him.

“Do you love me, Leon? I love you so much, Leon,” you mumble to him feverishly when he dips low to rest his forehead on yours, a hand on your cheek.

“You’re growing on me, baby,” Leon says, kissing the spot on your cheek he hit less than a minute ago. “Go clean yourself up.” He checks his watch while you limp off to the en-suite. “I’m headin’ out soon.”

“What?” You poke your head past the door frame, genuinely distraught at this revelation. “But you just got home, Leon, I was so bored— Can I come with you?”

“Are you dumb, baby?” Leon blinks at you, and he knows the answer is yes already.

“I’ll just miss you, like, lots ‘n lots.” You’re padding towards him, seating yourself on his lap. He puts his hands on your hips to draw you in, you breathe in his scent. It can’t be pleasant, but you get something out of it. “I want to come with you, please. I won’t run away, Leon, I like it with you.”

“I know you won’t run away,” he hums, squeezing your hips. “What would you do without me? You’d just miss me, baby.”

“And I’m gonna miss you when you go now, Leon.” Your arms loop around his neck. This is fucking disgusting. You’re not his girlfriend, but his literal kidnapping victim and he’s all loved up, letting you stroke his hair and kiss his neck— Fuck, he hates it, hates that he likes you so damn much.

It’s not like he could get away with it. Claire’s got, like, a database in her head for all the fucking women in the world. One look at your face and she’ll know. And how the fuck are you meant to play that off? Bringing a missing girl as your date for the night.

“You can come with me,” he agrees, just not in the girlfriend way, but in the appropriate kidnapped girl way. With a gag in your mouth and your hands behind your back, tucked into his trunk like a cute, fleshy suitcase.

Zip ties are best, rope comes second, and Leon’s tie is probably not on the list of best kidnapping tools. He just wasn’t prepared to take you with him. He’s fairly new to the whole kidnapper thing, it’s quite exhausting.

The sun sets early these days, and it’s not like Leon lives in a crowded area. Only sign of life on the street is him. And you. Panties stuffed in your mouth as a makeshift gag, wrists tied together with the tie Hunnigan got him for Christmas. You could spit the panties out at any minute, but you don’t. You could break free from the shitty knot he’s tied, but you don’t. Leon must be good at this manipulation thing ‘cause you’re so damn docile, letting him lay you down like a corpse, move you around like one.

“All good?” Leon asks, tilts his head to the side as you stare up at him with glassy eyes. Not all good. You’re terrified. He can tell. You still nod though. “Good.” He kisses your head, then shuts you in.

Leon is already a bit of a nervous driver. His windows are blacked out at least. He always feels like he’s doing something wrong. Like there’s drugs planted in his glove compartment, or he’s got blood money on the backseat, or a cute girl in the trunk— Which he does, but he doesn’t usually have a cute girl tied up in the trunk. He usually does get a ticket or two though, able to charm his way out of it, flash his ID.

There isn't a single noise from you, not even a thump, and it worries him. Leon considers pulling over, but he drives on white-knuckled and shaky. Hopes you haven’t rolled out without him noticing. Been flattened by a truck. Jesus Christ, he thought something about this would be gratifying, but his nerves have spiked and unlocked a new level of anxiety. He should hand himself in right now– Obviously, he doesn’t do that, and he parks up outside Claire’s apartment instead, and he is going to check on you, he is, he was–

“Oh, hey you!” Sherry takes him by surprise, her hand is small in his, but it’s calloused. Doesn’t feel like it did when he held it the first time. Even smaller and bloodied. When she smiles at him, soft wrinkles form. “You’re on time,” she comments, and he wants to die because there is a girl in his trunk.

“Right on, kiddo!” He says to Sherry who is thirty-seven and married. Leon would like to think he does well in high-pressure situations, he does do well in high-pressure situations. That’s a fact. He’s great in end-of-the-world-type scenarios, great at saving America from impending doom, he could do it with his eyes closed– Facing the closest thing you have to family not as yourself, but as a creepy, old rapist is insanely difficult and he would prefer to never do it again. However, he is exactly that, plus a kidnapper, so Leon will continue to do it for the rest of his days.

“Are you okay, Leon?” The corners of her lips are downturned– She knows, oh god, she knows, and she’s never going to look at you the same, and she’ll hate you for the rest of her life– “You’re not sick, are you? I heard there was a bug going around, Jake got sick today that’s why he couldn’t come.” Fuck Jake. Leon dislikes him. Her hair is longer, long enough to fall over her shoulders. He’d tell her to cut it, in their line of work it’s a risk, but she looks how she used to look, and Leon can’t say anything to her.

“No, I’m just, I’m cold, it’s cold, right? It’s cold out here, let’s go inside– Claire’s waiting,” he says very smoothly, totally without a single fumble.

“What is up with you?” Claire scans his guilty face when she opens the door, scans it like a robot, not like an observant human. She steps aside to let Sherry in, kissing the shorter girl’s cheek, and then she blocks Leon from entering. “My pipes are bust, Leon.”

“Okay? Can’t help you with that, babe.” Leon is not a fucking plumber. Doesn’t look like one in the slightest. He’s handsome like a washed-up actor, he knows that much is true, does not fit the bill for a plumber.

“You look like you need to shit really bad.”

“God, I don’t, I’m just fuckin’ cold.” Leon shows her his shaky hands as proof. It’s not proof ‘cause these are kidnapper shakes.

Claire stares at him. Ineffable. Unflappable. She scares the shit out of him, might really end up on her busted toilet if she scrutinises him to this degree all night. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good, I’m great– I’m cold, I’m fine,” he says normally because he is a normal man with a heart and soul and dick and balls and credit. All the shit normal guys have. And a girl in the trunk, he’s got that too. The cast-iron doubt in Claire’s eyes has Leon on edge for the rest of the night. It never dissipates. Or she’s just looked that way her whole life and Leon’s overthinking it.

“Nah, Leon hates those, don’t you?” Sherry nudges his shoulder.

“Huh?” Leon says intelligently, he’s painfully aware of his blundering efforts at socialising. Painfully aware of you. In his trunk. Cold, scared, and wet ‘cause you’re fucked up. He hates a lot of things like assless chaps and seven-eleven beer and swans. He drinks seven-eleven beer anyway. Does not wear assless chaps though. And he’d prefer to keep it that way. Swans piss him off ‘cause they're beautiful and violent and beautiful things should be passive like you are. Beautiful things were put on this earth to be gawked at. Beautiful things belong tied up in his car.

“Parrots,” she smiles at him again and he’s hit by a wave of nausea.

“What about ‘em?”

“Me and Jake want to get a pet, I’ve always wanted a parrot, you promised to get me one when I was a kid,” Sherry says, it’s not even to guilt trip him, just factual, but Leon feels like the shittiest guy alive, he’s very good at feeling bad.

“I do hate them,” Leon confirms, “They talk too much.” Pets are pets. They roll over, show off their bellies, wag their tails, they shouldn't speak.

“That’s what I like about them!”

Leon gets a headache when you speak for even a minute, that’s why he couldn't deal with a parrot. Or any pet other than his lucky girl ‘cause at least she’s smart enough to know when to shut up.

“It’s not like they talk a lot.” Claire fills her wine glass for the nth time. “They speak when spoken too,” she says while blinking at Leon so directly he thinks she might’ve put cameras in his house to see if he’s being as feminist as he claims he is. “And you can teach them names, I think it’s cute.”

“We took care of a puppy last year, a friend’s one, but Jake doesn’t like dogs at all. Poor thing, she got car sick when we took her out, she was in the back on her own, and she must’ve been so scared-”

A dog in the back of a car all on her own. God, doesn’t that sound familiar? Did you get car sick? Should he have checked up on you? Fuck, you might’ve choked to death on your own car sickness by now. The clock ticks and Leon checks his watch about ten times within five minutes. He can’t leave first. He never leaves first– Oh, fuck, but what if you’re fucking dead? He prays you aren’t. He would appreciate it if you were alive.

“I don’t… I don’t feel great,” Leon says not convincingly when he stands up, then he bends to kiss Sherry on the head. “I love you, sweetheart, we’ll catch up next time, alright?” And he doesn’t give either of them a chance to respond properly. Collecting his keys from the table, his jacket, his gun.

Leon, don’t you want to finish– Leon, you’re leaving– Call me when you get back– I’ll miss you, Leon– Text me back– Should you be driving–

He would love to reassure Sherry, tell her that he’ll miss her so much he could die and that he promises to text Claire back on time, and that he’s perfectly capable when it comes to drunk driving. but he’s pretty sure he’s got a missing dead girl in his trunk. Leon wonders if they can see him clearly from Claire’s fifth-story window. They don’t care about what he’s doing, but the probability that they might be able to see what he’s doing, acting all shady, is scary. The street lights flicker, and when he opens the hatch, he’s bathed in the glow of your halo. Hail fucking Mary and Joseph and Jesus. You’re there, eyes frantic, and very alive, panties still stuffed in your mouth. Could’ve spat those out by now, but you’re a good girl.

“Fuck,” Leon sighs, he smiles like he loves you. “Hi, baby, did you have fun?” He hunches over to get a better look at you, you’re in the position he left you in, on your side, balled up, almost foetal. He slaps your tit, pinches your cheek, pokes your ass like he’s giving you a physical. You shake your head. “No?” Leon pouts at you, then he leaves you in the dark by slamming the lid. The thrill has sorta settled in, or he’s just tipsy, ‘cause he’s giddy about it, about having you back there. Highways are fairly empty at this time, and so now that he’s boosted by you not being dead and cognac, Leon parks up on the side of the road. Opens up his trunk, again, it’s the most he’s ever used it, shit is gonna fall off its hinges.

“You saved me,” you say when he takes your spit-soaked panties out of your mouth. “You found me, sir, I was so scared, I-I thought I was going to die in here.”

Leon’s confused for a second, then he gets it. You’re roleplaying as… as a kidnapping victim. Which you already are. So it’s like the Droste effect, or holarchy, or more simply a thing within a thing. You’re letting him take on the hero part, which he’s most familiar with, he’s good at being the good guy, that’s why Leon is a pretty crummy kidnapper. “I saved you,” Leon says flatly, he goes with it. “You should suck my dick to say thank you.” He didn’t mean to say that so soon, he was gonna play along for longer, but you made him really fucking hard just then. Teary-eyed, snotty, looking so cute and sweetly kidnapped.

Waiting for your response isn’t his style. Leon had his dick out before you even spoke, he was planning on just stuffing it in your mouth, but you went and made up a little story in your head to get him even harder. He shuffles forward, wipes the tip on your lips, slaps it on your cheek.

“C’mon, open up, baby.” You nose at the underside of his cock, then take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and giving it to him so well, how he likes it, choking once you get to the balls. Leon places a hand on the back of your head, forces you still as he pounds your throat, hearing you gag and heave brings him comfort, ‘cause you're struggling and he loves to make you struggle, loves to make you work for it. You've had it too easy, and now you’ve started liking the sex (read: rape), so Leon’s glad he can hurt you without you getting off on it. “Okay, okay, that’s enough, baby, you can stop that now,” Leon says like he wasn’t skullfucking you into a coma, his cock slips past your lips, strings of saliva beading your chin, your neck, your tits.

The trunk is kinda small, when he puts you on your front, your head rests on the backseats, and your legs dangle over the edge. “Can you untie me, sir?” You ask in a scratchy voice, throat shredded.

Leon ignores you. He’s busy scoffing at how fucking soaked you are, misses the days he had to spit on your cunt to get it wet, when he felt all big like his cock was imposing ‘cause you were so dry he had to force his way in, and you would scream so loud it sliced his skin, and he would groan for that contrapuntal effect ‘cause hurting you is the best thing he’s ever felt. Better than opioids, better than regular sex, better than a scalp massage, better than anything that feels mildly great.

Your cunt swallows his shaft too well, and it is hot to know you’re so far gone now, but would it kill your pussy to show some form of resistance? He knocks his hips forward so hard the car jolts, thrusts all his weight into you, so his cock is doing nothing but harm, breaking your cunt in, going past your cervix, womb-fucking and all that good shit. It doesn’t get further than your cervix for obvious reasons.

‘Cause his dick is not a knife, it’s a dick and it twitches when you clench. He likes having a dick, he likes to fuck with it, likes to stick it in places it shouldn’t be, likes to disfigure and wreck and ruin with it - fly in the ointment is that it’s not immune to stupid, sloppy holes that beg for it. Leon shudders, keeps himself buried to the hilt, rolls his hips forward so the tip jabs the fleshy, firm opening of your cervix in painful grinds.

“Leon,” you wheeze, twisting like you’re getting exorcised, “Leon— Leon, it hurts—“

“I know, baby,” Leon pats your ass, giving a sharp thrust forward to make you sob. “Keep talkin’ to me like that, turns me on.”

“Hurts so bad, hurts, Leon, ‘s gonna– ‘s gonna kill me, Leon– Don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die, please–”

“Shit,” he laughs breathlessly. That was hot. Girls begging for their lives ‘cause his dick is too good. When you turn to glance at him over your shoulder, his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby– You look fucked.” Like you’re terrified of him. That's how it should be. “Don’t go pushin’ me out,” Leon grunts, words punctuated by strokes that have you reeling in all the worst ways.

“I can’t–” Your head bumps the seats when Leon knocks you in the back of the head. Hard enough to stun you into silence.

“Can’t run from it, can you?” Leon bites down on your shoulder, momentary relief from the cruel drag of his cock inside your sticky cunt, now you can focus on his teeth. How he might tear into you. Eat you up. “Gotta take it for me, baby, ‘cause that’s what you're good for. No brains just got a stupid little cunt.” When he cums, you arch into him, and he fucks into you with all he’s got, till you’re stuffed full of his seed. Something to keep your belly warm for the ride home. Leon should get an award for being this considerate.

“Leon, can I sit in the front?” you sniffle, pathetic and floppy and orgasmless.

He sneers at you. “Do you want me to get caught, sweetheart? You wanna get taken away from me?”

“No, Leon…”

Click!

That was cathartic. Leon’s glad you’ve still got pain receptors, you’re not totally gone, clinging on for dear life, but still afloat. He carries his little body bag to the door. “Want a photo?” Leon sets you down on the ground, you cling to the back of his shirt as he struggles with his jammy lock.

“Oh, yeah!” You light up, “‘Cause you saved me!”

“Yeah, baby.” Leon ushers you inside. “I saved you.” From the boot of his own fucking car.

#leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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normspellsman · 1 year

Text

A Kiss, Perhaps

pairing: spider socorro x fem!human!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 4.4k+ (😳)

warning(s): just spider + reader being cute idiots in love, spider actually being a lovesick puppy that happily follows you wherever you go, subtle brains x brawn dynamic, the tiniest hint of suggestive content (?), first kiss trope, slightest mention of making out, & getting caught (oop-)

taglist: @aonungsmate @universal-s1ut @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @optimisticblazetrash @arminsgfloll @amortencjja @dearstell @liyahsocorro @chshshhshshshshshshs @goodiesinthecloset21 @sweetirilly @blushhpeachh @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic

word bank: ikran — winged creatures used for flying + hunting

note: set before the events of atwow! i keep overdoing myself with these 4k+ fics 😭 but anything for you guys <3 there’s nearly not enough spider fics on this app. give my boy some love T-T! also, tumblr’s being weird & not letting me tag some people on the posts so i’ll try to tag those with a line through their user in the comments.

You loved spending time outside in the forests of Pandora, soaking in everything you saw. You spent more time out of the lab than in it most days.

Spider even joined you at times, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. You probably knew the forest better than the boy, even with his frequent associations with the Sully children. You practically never left the beautiful scenery and spent too many hours exploring every little thing you could. So, he found it best to follow your lead whenever he tagged along on your journeys.

Norm liked to say that you were a lot like Grace Augustine in some ways. Always wanting to analyze and study every single plant you came into contact with. Always too caught up in admiring the beauty and wonder that Pandora provided. Of course you never met the woman but you saw plenty of her video recordings with Kiri and on your alone time. You could say that the two of you had similarities but none that were too significant.

You knew almost every inch of forestry on the moon-planet. Almost.

There was this one place that Spider had stumbled upon many years ago after running around with Lo’ak. It was his little hideout spot whenever he needed time to himself or wanted a break from things. He didn’t think about sharing it with anyone else until you mentioned how bored you were one night, complaining about how you practically seen every inch of the forest and that there was nothing else to see. You loved everything you saw on Pandora but missed the first time admiration one held whenever they saw something they had never seen before.

Spider wasn’t exactly sure if you had already scoped out his little getaway spot but nonetheless, he still wanted to share it with you.

“I don’t think you’ve been to this place though,” Spider speaks up one day, pulling your attention away from whatever you were studying underneath the microscope.

The teen also often offered his company to you whenever you were in the lab doing whatever scientists did. He liked spending time with you, even if you were too caught up in doing sciencey stuff that he had absolutely no clue about.

“What do you mean?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

A shit eating grin stretched itself onto Spider’s lips. Good, he thought, she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

“You said that you’ve seen every inch of the forest,” he replied, twirling a pipette in between his calloused fingers, “but, I’m sure you haven’t seen my hideout.”.

Curiosity sparkled in your eyes, back straightening in attention.

“What does it look like?” You asked, genuinely excited about the secret place Spider had kept from you for whoever knows how long.

Spider had you right where he wanted you. Like a prey in his web. There was no way that he was going to give you any details of what it looked like. Where’s the fun in that? He wanted to see the pure, genuine look of amazement on your face when you finally saw the place he was talking about.

“Nuh uh,” Spider tsked, poking your cheek with the pipette, “I am not falling for that. You’ll just have to wait and see tomorrow,” he finished, face inching closer to yours.

Your eyes rolled in annoyance, not pleased with Spider's answer. You at least wanted to know where the spot was or what some of its features looked like, it would help that anxious-excitement feeling that always crawled its way into your stomach whenever you discovered something new.

“Wherever you’re taking me better not be somewhere where I have to climb,” you retorted, slightly pushing back his head with your hand, him snorting in response.

“It’s not that bad. Besides,” he replies, “I can always carry you up there.”.

Spider was ridiculously strong for a human boy his age. The first time you realized it, your stomach twisted in knots. The two of you were play fighting in your early teens when the male managed to pin you down with just one arm, the other slithering in between your bodies as he tickled your stomach. It was in that brief moment that you realized how different and quickly Spider was changing, thanks to puberty.

Just the thought of Spider carrying you up to wherever he had in mind without even breaking a sweat made butterflies erupt in your stomach. You began to wonder how his toned arms would feel around your body or how his tense back would feel against your front as it flexed due to his climbing. (Your mouth began to water a little at the thought. Oh how you wished he would just pull you into his embrace and hold you so you could feel the flexing of his muscles as he did so.)

You quickly scoffed the thought away, shaking your head at the dirty blondes' response. He very obviously took pride in his strength and the fact that he could most definitely carry you anywhere without much difficulty.

“Sure you could, Spider,” you added, your eyes squinting a little at the boy in front of you, unplugging and turning off the microscope you were using.

Spider smirked at your response, tossing the pipette to the side as he saw that you were getting ready to clean up, signaling that you were done for the day and we’re going to head off to bed.

“Night, beautiful,” Spider whispered, ruffling your hair a bit before he turned and left the lab you were occupying.

“G’night,” you replied, pink dusting your cheeks in reaction to the nickname he gave you early on into your friendship.

He always called you that. Max had explained to him what the word meant when he overheard Jake call Neytiri that when he was only a child, wondering what it meant. Max told him that he should only ever mean it whenever he called someone it. So he did. You were the only one he called beautiful and probably would be the only one he ever called that and truly meant it.

“Tomorrow, three hours before eclipse,” Spider quickly added, heading peaking through the door of the lab, a smile on his face as he voiced the time he planned on taking you out.

You only hummed out in acknowledgment, shooing him away as you focused on your task of cleaning up your area of the lab.

You really couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

———

“Hurry up, you’re going to make us late,” Spider whined out, sprawled out on your freshly made bed, a ball of yarn in his hands as he tossed it up and down towards the ceiling.

You rolled your eyes at the boy, annoyed at his words. It wasn’t like there was someone else waiting for you at the spot he wanted to take you to.

“We are fine, Spider,” you scoffed out, finishing tying up your shoelaces together besides the teens head as your body was in a seated position. Your hand briefly reached out towards Spider’s knotted locs, messing with them a little before he turned his head to teasingly nip at you, teeth not making contact with your skin. You squealed in response, hurriedly pulling back your hand in order to avoid the boy's sharp teeth.

Spider barked out a laugh at your response, tossing the ball of yarn to the side, softly landing on the floor with a dull thud. Another thing he loved, messing with you. He took great joy in doing it and seeing your reaction.

“Yeah well, the faster you finish getting ready, the faster we’ll be at my spot,” he retorted, pushing himself up to a sitting position, a bored look on his face as he looked at you.

Spider had only been in your room for around fifteen minutes, barging in when you just finished braiding your hair yelling about how long you were taking and how by the time you were done, it’d be sunrise already. He was all ready to go and had been waiting for you for almost thirty minutes before coming into your room unannounced. He usually did, which caused you to throw whatever was closest to you at him, demanding him to get out. You got used to it over the years but still, you needed privacy and sometimes, you felt like you rarely had that around Spider due to his spontaneous barging into your room. You gained the ability to change out of and into your clothes incredibly fast, almost always narrowly missing flashing Spider.

“Okay, okay, I’m all ready,” you responded, hands going up in surrender as you stood up from your spot on the bed, dusting off the back of your thighs and the front of your shorts.

Spider groaned out in relief, hopping off the bed and grabbing your packed bag that was placed by the doorframe, throwing it over his shoulder before grabbing your hand and rushing you out in excitement.

“You’re gonna love it, I swear!”.

———

The both of you had arrived and climbed up to the place Spider had wanted to take you to in an hour and a half. The sun was just at eclipse when you arrived. Spider didn’t hesitate to crouch down a little so you could jump onto his back, legs and arms tightly around his neck and waist before he began the ascent up.

“We’re here,” Spider whispered, slightly out of breath from the exercise. He tapped your thigh twice, signaling that it was safe for you to let go.

The first thing you saw were vines. Lots of them. It covered almost every inch of solid rock, clinging across the surface until your eyes landed on a small opening, the vines dangling over it as the twine and its leaves cloaked the opening. No wonder you never knew of this place. Regardless of it being too high up for you alone to climb, it was very well hidden by the green vines.

It seemed like it was a cave, from what you could see. Peeking past some of the small openings in between the vines, you couldn’t see much light through the gaps. It seemed to be pretty dark and the only light that was getting through was the sunlight that managed to squeeze between the vines.

“You excited?” Spider asked, anxiety settling itself in his stomach. He wanted you to like his secret spot. It was special to him. He didn’t even tell Lo’ak about it and he tells the Na’vi boy practically everything.

“Very,” you replied back, eyes still glued on the intricate weaving of the vines. You tried to imagine what was behind the plant's structure, excitement setting in.

You liked finding new things but this felt different. More personal. Spider told his loved ones almost everything, so you were genuinely surprised when he brought up the fact that he had a secret hideout. And knowing that you were probably the only other person to see and know about this place made it even more special and personal.

“C’mon,” Spider whispered, taking your hand in his as he gently pulled you inside, pushing the vines to the side to make room for the both of you to get through.

It was dark at first, the numerous vines making a dull thud sound as they fell back into place once Spider let them go. But then, small blue dots of light appeared, scattered across the walls and ceiling of the cave, lighting up the space in its dim light. The longer you two walked, the more brighter it seemed to get. The biolomenscient dots got dimmer and dimmer the further you and Spider went, the warm glow of the sunset replacing it.

Another opening made its way into your line of sight, giving you the perfect view of the eclipse and more.

“Holy shit,” you whispered out, hand still grasping Spiders.

The sight before you was absolutely breathtaking. Ikran flew across the setting sun, shrieking in delight as they dipped and dived. The floating mountains were scattered across the sky, thick and large vines connecting them to each other so they didn't drift too far from another. The vibrant colors the setting sun emitted settled across the horizon and danced across the tops of the trees beneath the cliff you and Spider were currently standing on.

Spider smiled at your response, warmth spreading across his body as he came to the conclusion that you were enjoying the sight before you. He felt nervous before, not wanting you to not like where he was taking you. But now, he felt so happy. Happy that you were awestruck and couldn’t tear your eyes off of everything in front of you.

“Like it?” He asked, hand squeezing yours to catch your attention.

“Like it?” You replied, eyes still darting across the beautiful scenery in front of you, “I love it! How come you didn’t take me here earlier?” You pouted at the end.

The boy only chuckled in response. To be honest, he considered this place to be his. Like a little secret. He wasn’t planning on sharing it with anyone. But the more he thought about it and visited the small cave slash cliff hideout, the more he wondered what it’d be like to share this place with you. He was over the moon when you agreed to tag along last night. This was no longer going to be just his spot but the both of yours.

Spider slightly tugged on your hand, guiding you to follow his actions in sitting down, legs dangling over the cliffs edge.

“It’s so beautiful,” you commented, settling yourself next to Spider, hands still intertwined.

The human boy hummed in response, eyes never leaving the side of your face. The setting suns colorful rays reflected off the glass of your mask, highlighting your bright eyes as you continued to gawk at the gorgeous sight in front of you.

To Spider, your beauty could never compare to what was in front of him. He had seen this kind of sunset millions of times before but he always found himself thinking of you whenever he gazed at the eclipse and the colorful horizon. You were truly one of a kind. He always felt special whenever you graced him with your presence. His eyes never left your face whenever the two of you hung out, oftentimes running into things on accident which made me even more flustered once your laugh reached his ears. If he were in a Na’vi body, his tail would be swaying furiously back and forth like a dog excited to see their owner whenever his eyes settled on your figure. You always had a special place in his heart. Which makes this moment even more special.

“Hmm, just like you, beautiful,” he whispered back, nudging your shoulder with his.

A wide toothed smile made its way across your lips, a giggle escaping them as you shook your head at the boy. “Cheesy,” you replied, eyes finally tearing away from the sunset and settling on Spider.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you realized how close the two of you were. Your shoulders were touching and your clasped hands were in Spider's lap, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand. If it weren’t for the masks you had to wear, you most likely would be able to feel each other's breath. Just the thought gave you slight goosebumps.

“Sappy,” Spider agreed, laughing in response to your previous statement. He tended to be overly romantic whenever around you. Albeit he never outwardly voiced his thoughts, he still thought them. You only got a glimpse or two of that side of him, it only being during whenever the two of you were joking around or he was trying to bring your spirits up on a particularly hard day. It never failed to make you feel better or laugh in response.

Your eyes were stuck on Spider's face, glancing from his eyes, to his nose down to his lips, and then back up to his eyes. He was probably the prettiest human boy you’d ever seen, and the only one you’d seen.

“Want to know how I stumbled across this place?” He asked, cheeks reddening at your intense stare.

“Please,” you responded, shifting a bit to face more towards the boy, hands still tightly interlocked.

Spider brightly smiled before starting, glad to be finally sharing this, his place with you.

———

You had stayed out way past curfew, too caught up in the beauty of Pandora to realize just how late you and Spider stayed out.

He had you put yourself on his back again on the way down, your hands returning to grip his shoulders as your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. You found yourself thinking about his muscles and his strength again, making yourself blush at every thought. The fact that you were so tightly pressed up against him and could feel his back muscles twitch and flex as he climbed down didn’t help, at all.

But he too was blushing. There have only been a handful of times where the both of you were in a position like this, so close together. Most of them were when you were children and still needed the comfort of someone else to sleep, Norm often finding the two of you entangled together as you softly snored away in your deep slumber. The other time being when you had a tickle fight and he pinned both of your hands above your head and tortured you with his swift fingers against the sensitive skin of your stomach. Spider almost kissed you that day, if it weren’t for Max’s interruption, telling Spider that Lo’ak was there for him. And the other time being now. It had been so long since he had you this close. Of course you two hugged and had sleepovers whenever you were bored, but even then, you never had your body that close to his and vice versa. Spider could feel the beat of your rapid heart against his back, smirking at how fast it was pumping.

It was nice to have you this close to his body. Especially in this circumstance. He felt like he was protecting you, in a way at least. Spider knew that you didn’t have the type of training he did regarding exploring the expanse of Pandora’s forests. You mostly explored on your own and kept to the forest floor whereas Spider leapt from tree to tree with Lo’ak and climbed whatever he could. And regarding this fact, he knew that you wouldn’t be able to pull yourself up to climb all the way to where he wanted to take you as well as back down. So this was the least he could do. Have you cling to his back as he descended back down to the mossy ground.

The minute your feet touched the floor, you took off sprinting, shouting at Spider to race you back to the lab. Poor boy barely had any time to process it, standing there in shock for a few seconds before quickly following after you, catching up to your figure within minutes.

The boy beat you to the lab even with your head start.

“No fair!” You whined out, huffing and puffing from your sprinting. Damn, you thought to yourself, and to think Spider does this everyday.

“Hmm, sucks to suck I guess,” Spider teased, patting your head as you stood there with your hands on your knees trying to catch your breath. Your mask began to fog up from your ragged breathing.

You playfully slapped Spider’s hand away as you both walked up the stairs to the lab, the boy holding the door open for you as you walked through.

Once the door shut, a hissing sound reached your ears, signaling that the filter was forcing out the Pandora air and replacing it with the air you and the other humans needed to breathe. When the small light above the second door turned green, you quickly discarded your mask and pushed through the secondary door.

“That was so much fun!” You exclaimed, wide smile on your lips as you turned back towards Spider, watching him place both of your masks back onto the small rack they usually reside on.

Warmth spread throughout Spider’s chest at your exclamation, proud that he was able to make you this happy from simply sharing his hideout with you. “I’m glad you had fun,” he replied, a gummy smile spreading onto his lips.

“Thank you so much for taking me! I really enjoyed tonight,” you continued, same smile still plastered on your face.

You felt grateful that Spider wanted to share a place he had found and kept to himself for a while with you. It made you feel special. Really special. You wanted to do something for him that showed your gratefulness. But your mind kept drawing blanks the more you thought about it. It had to be a grand gesture that showed him just how much you appreciated tonight as well as him in general.

Silence settled itself between the two of you, it resting comfortably in the air. Seconds had passed from the last time you spoke, eyes darting around Spider’s painted striped skin, the paint fading from the days excursions. As your eyes settled back onto his face, you realized that he was staring at your lips.

A lightbulb went off in your head. Yes, a kiss would work.

“I am very grateful that you decided to share your hideout with me. I feel honored,” you began, taking a step closer to the boy in front of you, “Is there anything I could do to show my appreciation?”.

Spider gulped at your question, one thing coming to mind. But, the boy only shook his head and shrugged. “It’s alright. I’m just happy to have spent tonight with you,” he replied.

Sappy motherfucker, you laughed to yourself, feeling yourself melt at how sweet Spider was being. You knew that he’d never force you to do anything that you didn’t want to do. Another thing that you loved about him. (Right after his face and muscles, of course.)

You hummed in response, inching closer as you did so. You could practically hear how fast Spider’s heart was beating against his chest, making you slightly smile at how you might be the cause of it.

“I think I have something in mind,” you trailed, straining your neck a bit to look up at the boy as you finally stood chest to chest. A few strands of Spider’s locs fell in front of his face and dangled besides yours, hand going out to tuck it behind one of his ears. The boys knees almost gave out at the movement, stomach twisting in knots and skin beginning to tingle from your gentle graze.

“And w-what could that b-be?” He stuttered, dark blush covering his cheeks. He felt his heart beat even faster as the seconds ticked by, if that was possible.

You smiled up at Spider, right hand coming to gently take his left one. “A kiss, perhaps?” You asked, not expecting him to agree right away.

“You…you w-want to…to k-kiss me?” He shakingly asked, the hand in yours intertwining his fingers between yours. He couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. That you suggested that you both kiss. He’s dreamt of kissing you ever since he saw the couple down his hall kiss when he was younger, Max yet again had to explain the action to him. Ever since he knew that he liked you. Since he knew that you’d be the only one for him as long as he breathed.

You nodded at his question, eyes falling from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes. You also dreamt of kissing the boy. You wanted to ever since you saw an Earth movie from the twenty-first century where the two protagonists were lovers. You wanted to experience everything that the two lovers in the movies experienced with Spider. It was something you often caught yourself daydreaming about when you had nothing else better to do.

At your confirmation, Spider gently and delicately cupped your face in his warm and bigger hands, bringing you closer to his lips. There was a sliver of space between your lips and his, the teen boy waiting for something. Spider’s eyes searched yours for hesitancy and when he saw none and received another nod of your head, he pressed his plump lips against yours.

Your left hand went up to his waist to steady yourself, knees nearly giving out on the spot as your brain realized that this was actually happening.

Warmth was the only thing you felt from the kiss as well as adoration and care. You thought the whole fireworks thing was a bit silly whenever a character in a movie talked about it. But this, this was so much better than fireworks. You could feel how much Spider loved and cared for you through a single kiss. Could feel how nervous you made him through his shaky hands and rapid heartbeat. It was much better than fireworks. You felt loved and cared for through your shared kiss. You only hoped that Spider could feel the same things you did from the kiss as well.

The two of you stood there for who knows how long, kissing and pecking each others lips. You only broke away from the kiss two times to inhale more oxygen before you passed out. Spider meanwhile kissed all over your face as you did so, placing gentle kisses against your cheeks, nose, forehead, and chin before slotting his lips against yours again once you filled your lungs with sweet oxygen.

A loud cough erupted from behind you, halting the both of you in your kiss. Fear and anxiety spikes through your system, eyes widening as you slowly turned around to see who caught you and Spider kissing face.

“I don’t want to know,” Max started, arms crossed against his chest as a sleepy expression painted his face, “Just, get to bed. Separately. And if anyone asks, I saw nothing, okay?”.

You swear you never ran to your room so fast in your life, giggling out into the quiet corridors of the lab with Spider trailing behind you. Yeah, sorry Max, but there was no way that either of you were going to bed in your respective rooms tonight. There was too much to talk about and catch up on.

#atwow imagines #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar: the way of water #atwow #atwow x reader #atwow x you #avatar x reader #spider socorro x reader #spider socorro #spider socorro x y/n #spider socorro x you #spider socorro imagine #spider socorro imagines #miles socorro #spider socorro x human reader

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himechia · 4 months

Text

“ ࣭⸰ ★ EYE OF AFFECTION . . . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀NCT127 ; jeong jaehyun x fem reader (12.9k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ for as long as he can remember, jae's world has been in black and white - giving him no reason to appreciate his mother’s profession as an artist and the beauties that art can provide. however, an accidental meeting with you gives him reason to doubt his former beliefs - proving to him that there may be true beauty in a world that’s void of everything bright, that beauty being the sunshine that you provide.

contains; colorblind!jae, painter!reader, jae's mom is reader’s art mentor, jae hates art, strangers to lovers, major crushing from both sides, slow burn but also not slow burn (like a nice simmering burn), swearing, fluff, kissing, reader acts like she’s on an adrenaline rush 24/7, jealousy, angst, explosive arguments, lowkey toxic, extremely inaccurate depictions of colorblindness!!, johnny is jae's bestie, happy ending! author's note; hi guys this fic is finally back in the nct tumblr world,, i have this posted on my main blog for blue lock under the name 'rationalism' if u see any name errors that's why,, enjoy!!

Whenever the sun meets its peak at the high dawning point in the sky is when Jaehyun knows it's a perfectly acceptable time to visit his oh-so-beloved mother. If he could, he would spend every waking moment with her - he’s a momma’s boy through and through - not only because she birthed him and taught him everything he knows, but because she’s kind and good. She’s also one of - scratch that - she’s the only person he can stand to be around for more than twenty four hours - and he takes great pride in having such a wonderful woman in his life.

However, despite how dearly he holds his mother to his heart, the issue with visiting her at this time of day is that she’s in her art studio. A place he loathes more than having to wear wet socks with sneakers. While it’s a beautiful space, with high wooden beams and floor to ceiling windows, he finds himself nauseous at the mere sight of the countless tubes of oil and acrylic paints. It’s not that the smell or colors are distasteful, it’s the fact that no matter how hard he squints and struggles, he cannot fathom what the simple color red looks like.

Complete black and white color blindness isn’t a life threatening condition in the slightest, but for Jaehyun, it feels as if he’s being stabbed through the sternum at any notion of the changing leaves or colorful streaks of light across the sun-setting sky.

He doesn’t hate his mother for being an artist, he simply hates the art itself.

And he especially hates pieces of art like the one sitting before him, now. With the blobs of squares and triangles against the supposedly white canvas, sitting perky on the easel as if to mock him - he decides to reach his hand out - and remind himself how emotionally detached acrylic paints make him feel. It’s wet, he observes, rubbing his thumb and pointer finger together to mix the possibly different hues. Jaehyun hopes he didn’t ruin the artist’s painting in any way, he wouldn’t know if he’d accidentally smeared shading or contrasting primaries - but surely the artist could fix it in a jiffy.

“Do you like it?”

Well, that certainly isn’t his mother’s voice.

“I tried using cooler tones in the corner here, and then migrated towards warmth in the lower portion.” You’re beside him now, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his position, and completely ignoring his personal space - all while he’s never met you before this day. Your finger is extended, pointing towards the artistic decisions you’re elaborating on that, in all honesty, he doesn’t give two shits about. “I’m thinking about sketching some paper cranes on top of it all, I want it to represent the change of seasons.”

“What do you think?”

You’re staring at him now, bright eyes shining with curiosity. Jaehyun is at a loss for words, mostly due to your unannounced appearance in the studio, but also because you’re possibly the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on - which is shocking, considering the sight of thick paint smudged against a person’s face typically sends him running the opposite direction. He’s never felt an immediate connection to the women of his past - however you, a strange girl who resembles a dog waiting for its treat, has his heart beating at twice the rate.

“I like this shape.” Jaehyun purses his lips into a straight line, never having felt so awkward in his whole life. “This square is nice, too.”

You look utterly unimpressed with his evaluation. Your nose is scrunched in distaste and the fold beneath your right eye seems to be twitching in disapproval for your own artwork. “That’s all that you like?” You step ever so slightly closer to him, chin tilted up to meet his gaze, before retreating quickly and coddling your painting. “Perhaps I overestimated my color palette. I really thought it would be the outstanding moment of this piece, but I guess I could rework it if the shapes are all that matter—”

“Did you touch my painting?”

Oh boy, he’s in for it now.

A nervous laugh leaves his mouth, embarrassing him further as he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck in an attempt to look casual, only for you to grab his wrist out of thin air. “Oh my god, you did!” Your mouth is agape, inspecting his tattered skin in shock - yet somehow he knows that you aren’t truly upset with him - you don't seem like that kind of person. “Did you not realize that you’ve got scarlet red all over your palms?”

Jaehyun’s mind is blank, his ability to form coherent sentences is gone, and he can only muster up the cheesiest, most terribly dreadful joke that he’s said in the twenty three years he’s been alive.

“I guess you caught me red handed?”

There’s a moment of silence, with the two of you displaying the most aloof expressions either of you have ever made, until your face lights up with laughter. He doesn’t understand what could possibly be so funny - his joke was awful - but the sound of your contagious fits of giggles make his heart feel a little bit warmer in a place that he commonly feels suffocated in. For the first time, the studio gives him a sense of comfort rather than distress - and he knows it's because he’s developing a very clear crush on the pretty girl beside him.

You’re hysterical, resembling that of insanity while Jaehyun is simply stuck in time. He can’t tell if he should be steadying you before you trip over your own feet or if he should simply take his leave and forget this day ever happened.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he begins, watching you wipe a tear of laughter from the crinkle of your right eye, “but why are you here? Do you have an appointment, because I could’ve sworn there weren’t any other people that were allowed in the studio at this hour—”

“Oh, I do know you!” The volume of your voice just seems to get louder and louder. “You must be Miss Jeong’s son! She always mentions how lovely her little boy is, I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you! Though, I expected you to be like six or seven, not my age. She should’ve mentioned that you were handsome, not cute - she really chose every adjective other than the ones that wouldn’t make you sound like a primary schooler.”

Does she ever stop talking? Jaehyun doesn’t think he’s ever heard another person ramble on-and-on like you do. Normally he’d have ended the conversation by now, walked away without a second thought of whether he acted rude or not, but he knows that his mother would strangle him if he was to blatantly disregard her current favorite student. The student that she loves telling him stories about at the dinner table every Sunday night as he’s just trying to eat his fingerling potatoes in peace.

The same student who he’s somehow enjoying talking to - though it’s mostly just you talking to his blank face - and is causing a soft yellow blush to form on his cheeks. He doesn’t actually know if yellow is the color related to blushing, but he thinks he’s read it somewhere before.

“Anyways, to answer your question—”

Jaehyun feels like he’d asked you hours ago.

“—I’d walked all the way to the train station and realized I’d forgotten my wallet here - which is strange because normally I never forget anything. I’m a very organized person—”

Yeah, he doesn’t believe that.

“—and then I had to run all the way back here—”

Your shoes are scuffed. You definitely tripped on the way.

“—where I accidentally ran into a stroller…poor baby—”

Yep. Tripped.

“—which led me to you!”

You’re smiling now and Jaehyun doesn’t think he’s seen so many teeth shining at him in all of his life. God, do you ever run out of energy? No matter, he knows exactly where your missing item is. The anonymous wallet had been the first thing his eyes had grazed over when striding towards your artwork - good thing it’s only an arm’s reach away.

He snatches the wallet from the art easel and is pleasantly surprised by the quality of the possibly monochromatic leather. The clasp is simple, requiring just one twist before the contents of your identity are laid out before him. “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Jaehyun recites the name written on your license and holds the items out to you, to which you reach out, eager to reunite with your belongings. However, at the last second he waves it in the air - away from your dying fingertips - and clicks his tongue two times. “Try not to lose it again. It’s a luxury brand, isn’t it? I like the black color.”

“Black?” Shit. The tilt of confusion your head makes indicates that your wallet is not, in fact, black. “I’m either stupid or color blind, but this is red.”

Before Jaehyun can respond, he’s saved by the bell. Well, technically his savior isn’t an actual bell, but you get the gist. “Miss Jeong!” Thank god she’s finally here to distract you. He’s been fighting to maintain his pride throughout your entire interaction. “I made an extra trip to the studio and ran into your son, here! You weren’t lying when you said he’s a little quiet - honestly, I feel like I’ve been talking to myself this whole time.”

You quite literally have been doing that very thing for the past ten minutes.

“Oh, Jaehyun! Have you been acting rude?” His mother’s expression is tense, stricter than the time he ‘accidentally’ took her (grey?) Kia Soul on a joyride that one weekend he and Johnny decided to go on a midnight run to the department store. “Please don’t mind him at all, dear. You see, he doesn’t exactly get out much - his social skills might be a little underdeveloped.”

She can’t actually be saying this right now. This is exactly why he hasn’t had a girlfriend in months - his mother embarrasses him in front of every pretty girl they come across in the first two minutes of saying ‘hello’. It isn’t that Jaehyun is a terrible flirt - which he is, but he likes to deny it - it’s that he loves his mother so much that he can’t bear to tell her that her attempts at ‘hooking him up’ are always bound to fail.

However, you don’t appear to be phased by her words. If anything, you’re actually pleased by the sound of him being socially impaired.

“That’s actually perfect!”

What.

The.

Fuck?

“He can be my portrait model!” You’re still talking. Please, for the love of God, stop talking. “You know how I’ve been trying to become better skilled in the emotional aspect of my paintings, he could definitely help me out by showing anxiety and embarrassment - and you’ve been telling me it’s about time that I found myself a model.”

The endless trail of words that continue to string from your mouth seem to reach their end. Rather than speaking in spitfire, you’re now crazily staring at Jaehyun, himself. Both of your fists are clenched together in a pleading hold and he doesn’t think that you’ve blinked since the start of your conversational rampage - but despite the absurdity of your proclamation, he believes you have good intentions. There really is no reason to deny the request - after all, he’d be helping out his mother in the process, she does love having successful students - but he just can’t imagine himself spending any more time in the dreadfully grey studio than he already does.

“I don’t think that would be a very good idea, ______.” His mother catches your words before he has a chance to give you his own oral letter of rejection. “Jaehyun’s never been one for art.”

“Oh.”

All you have to say is ‘oh’?

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you continue. The expression on your face is suddenly stern. Has he offended you in some way by saying no? “I’ll figure something else out, Miss Jeong. I apologize if I overstepped.”

You’re bowing your head before him now, and Jaehyun is shell shocked. His first impression of you was undoubtedly a dud, considering how you actually do seem to have a rational bone in your body despite the hyperactivity you displayed just moments before. While he’s mustering up a response, you lift your eyes - lashes fluttering like upwards brush strokes on a canvas - and send a small smile his way. It’s as if you’re silently apologizing to him for the undivided attention you tormented him with, but he doesn’t want you to apologize.

He just doesn’t know how to say that he actually liked your personality.

God, he’s so bad at flirting.

“Thanks for finding my wallet, though.” Your fingers are suddenly touching his, momentarily grazing against his skin as you pluck your wallet from his hands. There’s no chance that you haven’t noticed the rising heat that’s currently warming the blossoms of his cheeks, and he hopes that you find it endearing. While he isn’t great with words, he likes to think that he may be at least a little bit cute. His mother always calls him a ‘cutie’ - which he appreciates, but it’s also so degrading for someone of his age. “Maybe I’ll be forgetful more often, now.”

He hopes you’ll start being more forgetful, too.

You’ve left your entire bag this time.

He can’t tell if you’re trying to be subtle and coy with the budding feelings that’re growing between the two of you, and you’re just as awful at flirting as he is - or if you’ve just given up on leaving small signs of attraction. Honestly, in the past few weeks of you leaving paintbrushes and lanyards in the studio, he’d assumed it was all naturally an accident. This, though? How do you expect him to believe that you left your entire satchel in the studio? Sure, you can be a little dense, but not that dense.

It’s obvious that you’ve begun to lose track of your belongings for the simple reason that you enjoy partaking in the awkward exchange of items when you ‘hastily’ return to the empty renovated greenhouse and get to act surprised to see him standing there with his arms full of things with your name written all over them. In fact, this instance has happened so often that Jaehyun is beginning to believe that he actually enjoys it, too.

Sometimes he thinks that maybe you should just write your name on him to speed up this dreadful ‘will they, won’t they’ process that you’ve been pacing together.

He likes you. He really really likes you, and you both know it.

You’d picked up on his feelings from the second time you met - when he willingly stayed behind in the studio for an extra two hours just to hear you ramble about the difference between heavy and soft body acrylic paints. There was something about the way you grinned at him. How your chin would angle upwards to his height in order to have a proper conversation. How you weren’t afraid to say anything and everything that was on your sporadic mind. How your eyes would sparkle at the dedicated eye contact he was making - letting you know that he was hanging on to every word that left your lips (which he just recently found out are pink - and boy does he wish to know what that undoubtedly lovely color looks like against your skin).

He hates to compare you to a painting - which he still finds a positively dreadful blob of nothingness - but to him, you are one. You’re a captivating piece of art hanging on the walls of the nationally acclaimed museum in his mind.

A captivating piece of art whose art of subtlety is extremely lacking, considering that your phone number is quite literally painted on the largest white canvas your easel can hold, in bold lettering that he would have to be visually blind to miss, plastered behind the hiding place of your bag.

‘P.S. It's written in red paint. I know you have a thing for red.”

As much as he likes you, you can be such a pain in his ass. The bane of his existence, if you will.

It pains him to notice how he hadn’t thought twice about typing the digits into his text bar, smiling to himself at the sight of your make-shift contact with the horrid selfie you’d taken on his phone to be your future contact picture. Your hair is an utter mess, with flecks of paint scattered across your hairline - which, to be honest, look like dandruff to him with their lack of vivid color, but he told you that they resemble snowflakes. He lied - but what you don’t know doesn’t hurt you.

Without hesitating, he types a singular ‘hey’ before backtracking. What if you don’t know that it’s him texting you? What if you think that it’s a random stranger who just so happened to be in the art studio and thought to add your contact information to their phone? He better be more clear.

‘Hello, ______. You know me.’

Perfect.

In less than a split second, you respond. He can feel his nerves itching at the sight of the grey text bubble popping in and out of view. Jaehyun can’t even remember the last time his heart beat so fast. Perhaps when he was standing in front of his secondary school health classroom and he accidentally mistook a photo of the urinary system with the ovaries during a speech about the female menstrual cycle? The stream of liquid projected against the white board was in fact not what he thought it was (how was he supposed to see the difference between red and yellow?), which turned into a horribly disgusting presentation that Johnny still bothers him about to this day. That was dreadful - but this is definitely equally as dreadful, if not more.

‘Stalker much?’ Huh? ‘Hi though, Jae. That text was very…you.’

‘You added my number pretty quickly.’ Man, you text really fast. ‘You just couldn’t resist me, could you?’

He doesn’t know what to say back. It’s as if his mind has been scraped raw of all romantic material that one would usually use in this situation - the situation in which an unbelievably pretty girl is talking to him through a phone screen. Jaehyun is completely frozen in place, time, and thought. The only part of him that isn’t paralyzed is the hole in his chest that is beginning to be thawed by you. His frozen heart of past relationships has found its fire - and oh does it burn for you.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Where the fuck did you come from?

Swiveling on his heel, he turns to face your approaching figure. Your footsteps are lighter than air, likely being the reason as to how you managed to stealthily sneak in so quietly while he had been distracted with his phone. The light denim jeans that cover you from waist to ankles are perhaps his favorite pair you own. You’ve painted on them over time, sketching out a garden of patterns that don’t require color to appreciate. Your artistic ability is uncanny - he can’t deny the fact that you’re incredibly skilled - and he believes that you should be given an award for making ‘art’s number one hater’ a growing fan.

“You left your bag.” No shit, Captain Obvious. “Do you want it back?”

He’s so bad at this.

You skip towards him, your left foot following your right in a rhythm of peppiness, and lean up towards him with a shine in your eyes. God, you look so pretty. Sure, seeing you from a comfortable distance with an easel separating your bodies was nice and all, but when you pull stunts like this - with no room for him to scurry off and run - he actually takes the time to digest your features in their true beauty. You’re the artist, yet he seems to be the one who’s always studying you.

“Do you have any plans for today?” You ask in a curious tone. Your hands are held together behind your back as you send him a beaming grin with an upturned lip. “—because I was thinking about grabbing some tea, and it would be so unfortunate if I had to go all alone and sit by myself with all of those strangers around me. Who knows what could happen? If only there were someone who could protect me in case a sleazy guy asks for my number…”

Are you trying to manipulate him, right now?

“I’ve got nothing to do today.”

—because he’ll gladly let you do so.

The peaks of your eyebrows raise in surprise, not expecting him to accept the offer so quickly. Over the short time you’ve known one another, you’ve noticed that Jaehyun’s reluctance to spend one-on-one time with you has dwindled. He’s slowly becoming more comfortable in your presence and whatever inner turmoil that he’s facing is fading into the tide of your raging tsunami. There’s a peaceful gaze behind his brown eyes, now. One that you love to study whenever he isn’t looking your way (which isn’t often).

“Then it’s a date!” Surging forwards, you take his arm in yours and link yourselves together. He’s initially shocked by the immediate physical connection you’ve managed to make within mere seconds, but he thinks that he likes it. It’s been so long since he’s even held hands with a girl, so he’s understandably tense, but you’re giving him time to adjust. After all, scaring him away would be your last intention. “I’ll even pay for your drink, since you were kind enough to find my lost satchel.”

“Yeah, your lost satchel was so hard to find.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He smiles to himself.

Yes, you do.

He isn’t sure how, but he’s somehow burned his tongue again.

“Shit!” Jaehyun hurriedly places his mug down onto the circular wooden table that separates the two of you, while attempting to be gentle since he doesn’t want to waste the perfectly tasty coffee that you paid for. He groans, dabbing the corners of his lips with one of the complimentary paper napkins. “Why does it get me every time?”

This is perhaps the third week in a row that you and him have ditched the studio and decided to claim the neighboring cafe as your designated date spot - though you’re still an unofficially exclusive couple. Unofficial as in Jaehyun hasn’t found the nerves to ask you to be his girlfriend, and exclusive as in neither of you are nor want to see other people. It’s a confusing situation for both parties to be in, but he just can’t seem to take that next step with you no matter how hard he tries to push himself towards the ideal solution.

Jaehyun is a rationalist. He takes in the information given to him through interactions and associations, working through it with logistics on his mind, and tries to find the best outcome. It’s how he’s lived every hour and every day of his adulthood, and he’s fairly set in stone with his mannerisms at this point. He always known who he is, what he wants, and how to obtain those things. What he didn’t know, though, was that an unpredictable variable (you) would crash into his life and disarray the routine that he’d been building for twenty-three years.

The hypothesis born of the situation isn’t a difficult one to solve, after all he’s had it written down for a month: if Jaehyun finds the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, then you’ll likely say yes and the two of you will live happily ever after. Easy, right?

Wrong. He’s a chicken.

“Here. This might help you cool down.”

Your arm is extended, offering him your drink of the day without hesitation. Every time you come here, arm-in-arm, you order something different. ‘There’s no fun without surprise’, is what you tell him after the consistent strange glances he sends your way when you’re ordering, and he can’t help but disagree. You’re very different individuals - and that difference is extremely apparent with the light, mint garnished tea in your glass compared to the dark roast coffee in his.

“Thanks, ______, you’re a lifesaver.” He sighs in relief as the cool liquid flows down his throat in an internal waterfall. “Holy shit, this is actually so good.”

You laugh, “I would hope so. I only got it because of the photo on the menu. It’s like a rainbow of color.”

And there it is. The thing that isolates him the most from your world.

As much as he likes you, which is more than he can explain, he can’t help but have that itching thought at the back of his mind that you’ll never truly be able to connect with one another. You bask in the beauty of the world around you. From the apparent golden sun showers and bouquets of stark red roses - two things that you’ve described to him in great detail amidst your walks through the farmer’s market on Saturday mornings - to the countless brush strokes against the white canvas at his mother’s studio, you adore a world in color.

It’s a viewpoint that’s shaped who you are, from infantry to your current age of twenty-two, and it’s something that you’ll never be able to let go of.

To be quite frank, it scares him. It keeps him up at night knowing that seeing the world through your eyes is impossible. That it’s a far off dream that is unobtainable, taunting him in his mind and heart like a bone dangling in front of a dog’s face. He wishes that he could admire the blue streaked skies and emerald green ferns that line the streets of the city. He yearns to feel overcome with pride at the sight of your watercolor drafts - which you attempt to show him after every class session to no avail - and congratulate you on the progress you’re making. There are so many things that he dreams of doing with you, dreams that exist solely in your world, as they’ll never be possible in his.

He hasn’t officially asked you to be his yet, because how could he?

How could he bind you to him? You’d be miserable looking through his eyes - having to see only hues of black, white, and grey, similar to the pencil sketches that you’ve openly shown your hatred for in front of him. ‘There’s just nothing there,’ is what you mumble to yourself. ‘No life, no anything without color.’ To which you then drop a single ounce of paint against the seemingly dreadful piece of art - and the sparkle in your eyes as it comes to life is something that he loves to see but can’t understand…

…as you see the world in a way that he can never understand.

Jaehyun doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to tell you about his condition. It would end everything all at once, and he isn’t sure how he would recover from that kind of heartbreak. You’re so blissfully unaware of how much conflict runs through his veins on a daily basis. Hell, you don’t even notice how he orders a singular black coffee every time you approach the counter together. You don’t see how he struggles to agree with you as you admire the assortment of blended beverages with a forced smile on his face. You don’t understand why he chooses to indulge in such a bitter drink and make sure to comment on it every single time.

He can’t blame you, though - it really is disgusting - but he also can’t tell you that he orders his coffee black since it’s a universal drink that appears the same to everyone who sees it. At least when he’s holding the steaming mug between his large palms, he knows that it appears to you as it does to him. That the divide that’s ripping a ravine through your connected hands is lessened in a sense - and you’re truly viewing one thing as the same.

Which is why he sits pretty and appreciates the short time that you do spend together, and suffers through piping hot coffee three times a week with no interruptions.

“I think I’ve made some progress on my portfolio.”

Your drink has been returned to your hands now. The small, clear glass is ringing as you tap the sides with your fingernails. It’s somewhat soothing, the rhythm following the tune of one of your favorite songs that Jaehyun happens to know very well after walking in on you in the middle of ‘art therapy’, in which you blast the music at full volume and deafen all other sounds. You have a tendency to be impatient - art being the only thing that can really pin you down for a long period of time - yet you’ve made room in your heart for Jaehyun despite this.

“Really?” Jaehyun dabs his mouth carefully, being ever the proper suitor in your presence. “My mom hasn’t given you any recent critiques?”

“No, she has.” As your words continue, you take a long sip of your tea. He can feel his cheeks flush while you swallow. He loves anything you do. “Just little comments about negative space and color theory, but I’m getting there.”

“Nice.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“Yeah, nice.”

Despite his seemingly rude reaction, you’re still gazing at him with a smile on your face. It isn’t an exceedingly joyful smile or one of excitement, but something of contentedness. You’ve become comfortable around him - shedded the hyperactive layers of skin that you display to onlooking strangers - and have begun to share the side of yourself that only your bedroom walls know. Seeing this side of you has made him fall even harder. Knowing that someone so confident, so bold, is just like him - caring so much about first impressions and likeability - and has their own insecurities is validating. Validating in the sense that you find him special enough to throw away the filter and be your true self in his presence.

“You know,” you begin in a wistful tone, “you aren’t a man of many words, Jae - and if I’m being totally honest, my patience is running out.”

He hopes this isn’t going where he thinks it is.

He’s not letting you ask him out before he can—

“What am I to you?”

Oh.

Your eyes are giving him an expectant look, now.

What the hell is he supposed to say to that?

This is the quietest you’ve ever been, you aren’t even swirling the star-shaped ice cubes in your strawberry lemon tea.

Why can’t he think of anything to say?

His silence is causing you to furrow your eyebrows in concern.

This is so embarrassing. Just say something. Anything.

“You’re my mom’s student.”

Anything but that.

“I’m…” the words at the tip of your tongue seem to dissolve like damp sugar cubes, “I’m your mom’s student.”

Your sentence is more of a statement than a question. It’s as if there’s a machine in your brain, working through his given answer and comparing all of the other possibilities he could’ve said. There were endless responses to your inquiry, and he somehow managed to pick the worst one.

He needs to fix this. How can he fix this?

“You’re not just a student, though.” His words are tumbling over one another in somersaults and you seem to perk up at his continuity. The hope in your heart grows a little bit larger, pulsating and yearning for him to say exactly what you’d been wanting for weeks-on-weeks. “You’re my mom’s special student.”

Oh God, he made it worse.

“What?” Jaehyun tries to reach for your hand in an attempt to compensate for his actions through physical touch, but you retaliate and instinctively jerk away. You quickly stand, drink in hand, and back away from him as he follows like a lost puppy. Your head is shaking from right to left, disbelief exerting from the pores of your skin like poison - sentencing him with death while it seeps through his gaping mouth and empty palms. “I’m a special student?”

How the hell are you so fast?

Within seconds the two of you are at odds outside of the building. The weather is somewhat chilly - springtime having just come around with the cherry blossoms in full bloom - and it’s probably a beautiful day with the petals raining down on the pavement. You’d usually make a comment about how wonderful the horticulture was outside of the shop, but now you’re stomping over every fallen flower and budding stem that lies in the way of your rage-filled path. He’d always thought of you as a gentle soul, but apparently even gentle souls have their breaking points - and he never dreamed that he’d be yours.

“If I’m so special, what makes me different from the girl before me and the one before her?” This is the first time you’ve ever raised your voice at him. “Did you take all of them out for drinks? Did they all get to spend one-on-one time with their mentor’s ‘handsome’ son? Did you lead all of them on, too? Jaehyun, what kind of answer is that?”

You’ve found yourselves in an alcove now - about a block from the cafe in a small garden nestled between two buildings. The blossoming trees continue to surround you from all sides, perfectly framing the tragic picture of him saying anything and everything you absolutely do not want to hear. A large sigh leaves your lips, heaving from your chest as if he’s popped a balloon and is pushing all of the air out with the strength of his smooth hands.

“That’s not what I meant!” He pauses as you halt in place, slowly turning to face him like you're something out of a horror movie - a monster who’s ready to murder their prey. A gulp runs down his Adam’s apple. You’re terrifying when upset. “Please, just let me explain!”

“Explain what?” Jaehyun flinches at your volume. “If you want to explain yourself so badly then tell me why the hell would you say something like that?”

“Sure, you aren’t the best with banter or having a crush - but dear God, you cannot possibly be that dense.” This is getting bad. “I’ve left hundreds of hints! Every single goddamn day - and you’ve picked up on all of them! You know, I thought that when you’d hold my hand or kiss my cheek that you actually meant something by it. I figured ‘he spends so much time with me, he can’t possibly not like me’, but no. I’m just a student.”

Your face is fuming with every dreadful word that comes out of your mouth. “Oh, sorry. I’m a special student.”

If this were a scene in an animated film, your hair would be on fire now. Flames as high as mountain tops would be spiking in sharp peaks at every end of sentence and statement spitting from your mouth. Your normally warm irises would be drawn as ice cold, not leaving any room for life as they skate across his timid features - wishing for him to reach freezing level so you could smash him into a million pieces.

You’d always told him that red and blue - fire and ice - were two things that you admired most. With their ever changing states of matter and forceful power amidst the seasons, he found himself believing as you do. Jaehyun actually learned to appreciate their vast palette as if he could see it with his own eyes - but now? Now he thinks that they’re the two worst things in the universe - as their destructive nature has decided that their target is him, and he has absolutely no defenses prepared.

“I should’ve caught on sooner, shouldn’t I have?” You’re still going, hot tears building up and threatening to stream down your cheeks. Never in his life has Jaehyun been at the receiving end of such anger - and never in his life has he learned how to manage a situation as such. So, he does what any clueless man would do - he returns the anger.

“You’re not even listening to me!” His hands are violently moving while his words cut like knives. “You never listen to me!”

“I never listen to you?” He’s apparently hit another nerve. “Is that some kind of sick joke? Jae, all I do is listen to you! It may not look like it, but I see the way you tense whenever I talk about my passions and dreams. I notice the way your face drains when I’m asking you for your opinion on my works in progress. Sometimes it’s like I can physically hear your eyes rolling when they see me walk into the studio with my bag of brushes and materials. Yet, you think that I don’t listen? I take note of every single thing that you do when you’re around me, because I don’t want to miss out on a single moment with you, and you don’t even care!”

He can’t believe that you’re pinning this on him.

“How could you even say that?” Jaehyun can’t tell who’s in the right or wrong anymore - all he knows is that if he doesn’t stop speaking, you’ll walk away forever. “I’ve never cared about anyone as much as you! I’ve done my best to entertain your interests and the absurd things you ask of me—”

“Well, your best hasn’t been enough.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

“Are you being serious, right now?”

Your eyes are stoney, rock solid with stubbornness as you refuse to accept his side of the story and he knows that you won’t be budging from the beliefs that you’re choosing to hold against him. Jaehyun doesn’t know how everything went so wrong so fast, but he does know that he doesn’t have what it takes to save the situationship that he mistakenly put the two of you in.

“What the fuck did I do wrong that you resent me this much? Not even an hour ago all you wanted was to see me get down on one knee and profess my ‘undying’ love for you.” He’s so angry. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this angry. “Now I’m some asshole who doesn’t give a shit about your wellbeing? If everything I’ve done hasn’t been enough, then I might as well go fuck myself, right? I’m sorry I’m not perfect like you! I’m sorry I can’t see the world through crystal lenses like you! I’m sorry that I’m not good enough for you!”

His face feels wet. When did he start to cry? Was it ten minutes ago? Five? Just now? The hurricane of emotions that he’s putting himself through is more than he’s endured in years - his mental blockage of his condition finally coming to light as his heart runs off of the rails - and you’ve definitely seemed to notice considering the concern etched into your expression.

“I was never going to be perfect for you,” he begins with a softer tone. Perhaps his hot bundle of rage has subsided for a few moments. “I can’t be with you. I can’t understand how you see the world. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life listening to you ask me all of these questions and opinions on your work when I can’t even see it fully.”

You’re so close to him. Somewhere in the flurry of words, you took a step in his direction. “Jae, what’re you talking about?”

As he bites his bottom lip with the fear of judgment raging in his mind, his secret is set free.

“I’ve always liked this shirt on you,” he solemnly smiles, “This shade’s my favorite color that you wear.”

You look up at him, pulling at the fabric against your chest in confusion. “Red?”

“Grey.”

He’s laughing lightly, making up for the thoughtful silence that you’ve found yourself in. It’s like he can physically see the gears turning in your head as they attempt to make sense out of his statement. “It’s more of a rich grey - almost black - and it compliments your skin tone. You know, my mom used to tell me that the way to a woman’s heart is through compliments. I’ve always tried my best to do that, but it clearly hasn’t been working.”

His hands somehow find yours as he shares the inevitable truth he’d been hiding so hard - and with a deep gulp, his secret is finally exposed.

“After all, how could I ever reach someone’s heart without even knowing what color their eyes are?”

He misses you. He can’t help it, but he does.

The memories he has with you are a cassette tape on autoplay - constantly running through his mind on repeat, and always ending with the awful confrontation that you’d left each other with. Jaehyun wishes he hadn’t raised his voice. He wishes that he would’ve been honest with you from the very beginning, but he hadn’t, and there’s no changing the past. All he has now are two empty hands that would much rather be interlaced with your paint-covered fingers.

“How much longer do you think you’re going to be moping?” Johnny’s call is distant from the turning gears within Jaehyun’s brain. He’s sure that his best friend has grown tired of his constant state of melancholy - having been forced to be his support system after you walked out the door - and Jaehyun feels awful about it. If he could, he’d rip his heart from his chest and allow you to step on it. To stomp and tear through the organs just as you’d done to those poor bystanding cherry blossoms on the sidewalk.

“As long as she’s still upset with me.” He groans as his forehead hits the marble of the island counter. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Yeah, well we already knew that.” The dim-eyed boy beside him scoffs while taking yet another drink of his apple juice - which he has unfortunately had to drink for the past hour and a half since Jaehyun had somehow consumed his small supply of alcohol within the past few weeks that the two of you hadn’t been speaking. “I was really rooting for you, man. I thought she was the one to break your cycle.”

“Cycle?”

What the hell does he mean by ‘cycle’?

“Oh, you know,” Johnny continues without even taking a breath, “The cycle of life you’ve got going on with your inability to actually attract girls.”

Jaehyun hates him.

“You’re an asshole.” He grumbles, taking his own swig of the pint of orange juice he found in the back of his fridge. Is it expired? Likely yes. Does Jaehyun care, at all? Definitely not. Is he even more pissed off that he doesn’t understand the irony of why it’s called orange juice? He doesn’t want to answer that question. “An unhelpful asshole who should definitely stay over and cook dinner for me since he wants to make up for being said ‘unhelpful asshole’.”

Johnny scoffs, shaking his head whilst the thin, soft strands of his hair flit back and forth. His right eyebrow raises in a mocking expression, “You need to get yourself back out there, man. You’ll be old and grey if you keep waiting for the perfect girl to come knocking on your door, so just talk to her. Just fucking talk to her and put me out of my misery.”

“Are you trying to make this about you, right now?” Jaehyun stares at his best friend in utter disbelief, but he’s not truly upset. He knows that Johnny holds good wishes for him in all manners of life - this being no exception - and takes his words to heart. He’s right. Of course, he’s going to lose you if he doesn’t even try to get you back. “The sun must be falling out of the sky because I’m actually considering following your advice.”

“That’s a pretty picture to imagine,” his best friend chuckles, causing Jaehyun to roll his eyes. What’s the sensation that everyone has with mentioning imagery every five seconds? “Just talk to her, man.” Johnny continues, “Please, I’m all out of advice.”

Jaehyun takes his best friend’s pleas to heart. It is quite ridiculous that he’s spending his time depressed and lonesome when he could be reconciling with you. Perhaps it’s his fragile masculinity acting out and refusing to take blame for the situation, although he’s fully aware it’s completely his fault that you’re upset with him.

It’s difficult for the gears to begin turning in Jaehyun’s head. They’re covered in brittle rust that’s been creeping deep into the crevices of his mind for his entire life - slithering down his spine towards his blackened heart that you had only just begun to breathe life into. He misses the feeling of spring that came when you called. The freshwater rain of your laughter and budding blossoms of your smile that washed away his loneliness and replaced the awful emotion with an overgrown garden of bliss. He still doesn’t understand how he managed to mow that garden down with one sentence. He might as well have taken a chainsaw and brutally hacked into every connection that he’d managed to make with you in your time of knowing each other.

Now he’s going to be on his knees begging for forgiveness with his hands stained by the minced grass. Does grass stain green or yellow? Hopefully not brown, dear lord. He’ll be buried deep into apologies that should definitely be rehearsed, but he knows he’s not an artist with words and he won’t bother to waste your time with crumpled-up ‘I’m sorry’ notes and improvised tears.

You deserve nothing but the best - so much more than he’s been giving you and he needs you to hear those words come straight from his mouth.

When did you begin to mean so much to him? Jaehyun doesn’t even know.

It could’ve been when you showed up to his concert unannounced, with first row seats and a booming cheer that he never knew he desired. ‘C’mon, Jae! I know you can do better than that! Sing louder!’ He nearly tripped at the sound of your voice, and falling on his face was the last thing he wanted to do in front of his group - but to be completely honest, he doesn’t remember much of insecurities on stage that day. Jaehyun was solely focused on performing well for you. The world stopped and he was given all the time needed to impress you. You give him a reason to be better, a selfless reason to do good.

Perhaps it was when you’d shown him around your homey apartment, with maple art easels and splattered canvases lining the walls, and watched with glee as he made his best attempt at a finger painting (which may or may not have ended up looking like two worms kissing). ‘It’s abstract’, you’d say every time he found something new that was wrong with the art piece, ‘All it needs is a home. See?’ You hung his shitty little sketchbook paper on your living room wall, right next to your TV for the whole world to see. The way you stood there staring in awe still rattles his brain. You’ve always been able to find beauty in even the smallest things.

Or maybe his heart had begun to beat a little faster that Saturday night on the way out of the theater. The romance of the film the two of you just witnessed was still on Jaehyun’s mind, provoking his alcohol-induced body to make a pathetic attempt at holding your hand - which resulted in him accidentally knocking you over into a street puddle that swallowed the heel of your shoe. ‘I needed to take a shower anyway, Jae, it’s fine!’ Your smile continued to be bright despite the low temperature and sprinkling rain, and he can recall wondering how you managed to stay so positive in such a dreary situation. As you discarded your soggy heels into a nearby trashcan and skipped barefoot on the pavement, you called, ‘Come on! Dance with me!’ The shared laughter between the two of you echoed through the seemingly empty streets that surrounded you - hands connected as you swung in circles around each other and fell over one too many times, until he carried your sleeping body home. He doesn’t think anyone’s ever been able to make him laugh as hard.

The way the corners of your eyes crinkle amidst fits of giggles is his favorite image to replay. He doesn’t need to know the color to be able to see how beautiful they are - to appreciate the blinding sparkle that overwhelms your irises when he accidentally trips over the uneven sidewalk or knocks over your painting station - or even when he unintentionally makes a sexual innuendo that you just so happen to pick up on. ‘That’s a love hotel, Jae! Why would I have stayed there before?’ It was almost as if you were conducting a symphony of glorious laughter that night. The violins played the tune of your voice in a higher octave and the cellos added a punch everytime you’d bite your lip in an attempt to calm down. He hadn’t known what a love hotel was intended for before that night, but he’d also made the mistake to say, ‘I wouldn’t mind going to my first one with you, it could be a first for both of us.’ and you still haven’t let him live it down. Jaehyun’s honest with himself for the most part. He’s awkward, insufferable, and a bore to be around - yet, for some odd and unknown reason, those are your favorite things about him. Why?

Why is it that he can’t function like a normal person when your eyes meet his?

Why do his words rearrange themselves and become complete gibberish when he attempts to woo you with his charm?

What is it that keeps him coming back to you, despite holding such deep hatred for the things that you love most?

“I need to text her.” Jaehyun feels his chest vibrate as he finally makes a decision, the words pouring from his mouth in a short word vomit - forcing Johnny to piece together the jumbled mess and attempt to comprehend whatever it was that his best friend was trying to say, to which he jumps up from his seat at the island and aggressively pats Jaehyun on the back.

“That’s what I’ve been saying, dumbass! Get those fingers movin’!”

His phone falls into his hands in a millisecond, with Johnny eagerly awaiting to hear his poetry. He’s grateful to have such a supportive friend. Jaehyun knows that there aren’t many people who would be willing to put up with him for so long - having been moping around and complaining day-and-night of relationship problems that were solely caused by him - and he can’t imagine not having his support. Hopefully he’ll be able to introduce you, one day. You’ll both give him so much shit for his attitude. Oh well. It’ll all be worth it having two people he loves get along.

…

Did he just…

What did—

There’s no way.

Did he really just use that word? That godforsaken word?

He’s trembling. Jaehyun’s phone is shaking in his hands as he finally comes to the realization that he does, with his entire heart and being, love you. In an instant, his entire world scrambles together with rapid dashes and line art that he can’t even comprehend. There’s no rules to follow with these types of feelings - this insistent need to see you. Hold you. Kiss you.

Fuck, he wants to kiss you. He can’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing.

Like tapping raindrops that never cease their fall, his fingertips move against the keypad in a rhythmic motion - singing a song of love that can’t be contained into a simple lullaby. His heart pours out into the message, apology after apology being pasted in paragraphs, and hopes with his whole soul that you’ll find it in yourself to at least see him in person. There’s no way you won’t. Jaehyun knows you well enough now that he’s certain he’ll be seeing you again. All he needed to do was take the first step towards forgiveness, and he’s finally willing to be vulnerable and own up to his inability to be honest about his feelings, because he loves you. He loves you and he wants to tell you a hundred times, a thousand times, and a million times until you beg him to shut the hell up and kiss you.

‘I’ll be at the studio tonight. I miss you, ______, and I’m sorry.’

He ends the message with a final apology, begging fate that you’ll read it in time to meet him while he still has courage - and with that, he’s on his way to the place he hates most, awaiting the person whom he loves most.

An hour has passed - well technically it’s been fifty-seven minutes, but who’s counting?

He’s counting.

The sun went into hiding ages ago and the moon now stalks him as he sits in his chair, lonely with two vacant eyes that wish they were gazing at yours. Jaehyun can’t even tell if you’ve read the text or not - the grey speech bubbles look the same as they always have, and the delivered sign is posted at the bottom with no response. He wants to send a follow-up message, just a little ‘hey, you there?’ but he knows that’s a little bit much. If you want to see him, you’ll see him and he’ll confess his feelings once-and-for-all - though, he’s feeling much less confident than he was an hour ago. Ahem, sorry. Fifty-nine minutes ago.

Jaehyun has a plan of what he’s going to say to you, and hopefully it makes sense when the words begin to fall from his lips. He’s said it many times before, but he’ll say it again, he’s never been good with words or feelings or anything of the sort. He wants to get better, though - to become more emotionally aware for your sake, because he knows that’s a priority for you. You have an image of your dream guy that’s been in your wishes since primary school - tall, handsome, daring, dashing, yada, yada, yada - and he’s trying to be that guy. He needs to be that guy. He’ll be anything for you.

Anything and everything…even the desperate guy who can’t get a text back.

Y’know, for a moment - a brief and fleeting moment - the world seemed a little more beautiful in his self-realization of love. The stars glistened brighter and the street lights sparkled in their reflections. Before tonight, Jaehyun hasn’t ever been able to appreciate the natural beauty of what surrounded him. He never understood your fascination with replicating real life into paintings and sketches, but he seems to have digested the concept - at least a little bit. The only thing that could undoubtedly make his world more dazzling would be the sight of you, and holy shit there you are. There you are opening the front door - and your gorgeous, perfect reflection in the glass is looking straight at him.

He doesn’t need the ability to see color to know that you’re the most fascinating and jaw-dropping sight in the entire universe - and that the rainbow should be rearranged in the letters of your name in honor of your ability to captivate attention and inflict a multitude of emotions on him that he’s never felt before.

“Jaehyun?” Your melodious voice is the remedy that his ears have been yearning for. “Jaehyun, is that you? Why’re you in the dark?”

This means you haven’t read his text, right? Otherwise, why would you be confused as to why he’s here? Wait, why’re you even here?

You begin to explain yourself without him needing to ask, “I left my phone in here earlier like an idiot and I’ve been looking for it all day. Isn’t that so dumb?” You let out a little laugh, amused at your inability to keep track of your personal belongings. Why aren’t you acting like you’re upset with him? The last time you talked, you could barely look him in the eye - yet now, you’re so casual, almost as if nothing happened. “Here I am looking for my lost phone, but instead I find a lost Jeong Jaehyun.”

“What are you doing here? Sitting in the dark?”

The repeated question is met with a pregnant silence as Jaehyun fails to piece together the rehearsed words he had come up with earlier, settling on a bear hug that nearly suffocates you.

He’s so overwhelmed by the feeling of touching you again that he barely notices how stiff your posture is. You’re practically a piece of rock in the midst of being carved by its maker, frozen and unable to formulate an action in response - which, in this case, means that he’s your artist. Jaehyun relaxes his hold, urging you to reciprocate his warmth by nestling his face in your neck. Your right arm finds its place wrapped around his waist and your left around his neck, allowing him to engulf you further into his hold. You smell so nice. He notices the lavender perfume that he bought you is still rubbed into your skin, and he’s glad that you’re finally using it.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

Jaehyun’s fingers run through your hair in smooth waves, gently kneading out the small knots and helping you relax - and he can tell that your full attention is on him. For the first time in knowing you, there aren’t any distractions or excuses to avoid this conversation. It’s just you, him, and the bare truth. He just hopes he can execute this right.

“There aren’t enough words to explain how sorry I am, genuinely. I shouldn’t have ever belittled you like that, ______.” He takes a deep breath, one of many, and closes his eyes. The scene of you stomping away from him has no end in his mind. It constantly plays at every hour of the day, re-run after re-run, to torment him and remind him how horribly he screwed up with you. Please, please forgive him. “You’re not just my mom’s student. You’re not just a friend that I get coffee with. You’re so much more than that and I’ve been such a fucking chicken and haven’t been able to be honest with you.”

“You couldn’t have possibly known about my condition and it was wrong of me to take my frustration out on you.” Jaehyun can feel himself begin to cry, his tears raining down his cheeks in cascades of pent up anger and hatred for how he made you feel that day. You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve to be treated like shit by him. “Your work is important to you and I know it should be appreciated. What’s important to you is important to me, okay?”

“You love your art, and I love you.”

He says it over and over again. Those three special words rapidly become six words, nine words, eighteen, forty-two, and onwards as you look at him with an empty expression. Please, please say something. For every second of no response, he confesses his love to you. He confesses as if it’s his source of air - the only way that he’ll be able to survive this encounter is if he bares his emotions with no regrets. If this were a movie, he’d be the desperate protagonist in the climax of the story who fucked up his love life and is begging for a second chance - hell, this is real life and that’s exactly what he’s doing. Just, please, have a happy ending.

You open your mouth, yet nothing comes out. No words. No statements. No confessions. You’re simply staring at him like he’s just told you the most absurd news in the existence of the universe…

…and then a tear falls.

One tear slips from your eyes, followed by another, and another…until your face is drenched in salty rain with black mascara creasing your eyes. You look like a raccoon. Jaehyun almost starts laughing. No. He is laughing; laughing because your false lashes have fallen into your hands as the glue refused to be waterproof - and now you’re standing before him in a puddled mess of makeup and disheveled hair. You’ve never looked more beautiful.

Jaehyun brushes his fingers across your cheek, attempting to wipe away your tears like an artist covering up a beautiful mistake. If he were a painter, he’d paint you a million times and more - hanging every portrait on every single wall of his apartment, until there was literally no space left for a scrap of paper. You’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid his eyes on, and the smile that suddenly bursts from your sobs confirms it.

“What’s going on? I’m so confused, are you happy or are you sad?” He’s so concerned and his inability to read emotions correctly only makes him more helpless. “Talk to me, beautiful. C’mon.”

You lean into his touch and he instantly knows that everything is going to be okay.

“I just never thought I’d hear you say that.” Your smile is directed at him now, and he feels a warmth that is so familiar yet unfamiliar and he can’t get enough of it. It’s similar to the feeling of being showered in sunlight or snuggling beneath a comforter in the winter - an overwhelming comfort that’s a gift from you to him. “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever. Fuck you for that.”

Now you’re both laughing, giggling, and beaming at each other. His heart feels so at peace. The civil war between his divided emotions, love and loneliness, has finally ceased.

“I love you.”

Neither of you can stop the flow of confessions that slip from your tongues and in an instant your lips are on his - clashing and colliding in a furious kiss that rivals the strength of a hurricane. It’s almost as if he can physically feel your love pouring into him and warming his heart into a heated flame, stoked by the embers of your touch. God, he missed your touch. The feeling of it is addicting. It’s his personal heroin and he’ll never get enough of it.

Your lips are just as soft as he imagined them to be, perhaps they’re a rosy pink color with the slightest touch of strawberry lip balm that he keeps getting a fleeting hint of taste from. Never in his wildest dreams did he think you’d love him too. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. He silently repeats over and over - grateful that he’s been so blessed to know you…feel you…and love you in the awful world that he hated living on his own - the world void of color that you’ve somehow brightened by simply breathing beside him.

His hands are everywhere. Your hips. Your waist. Your breasts. Your neck. He can’t get enough of the feeling of you. With every passing second he’s falling deeper and deeper in love. You’re utterly perfect, he would kiss you for years if that was an option—

Aw shit, he knocked over an easel.

“Goddammit,” he mumbles while briefly pulling away from you. Of course he had to interrupt the moment he’s been waiting months for with his clumsiness. He’s such a dumbass. If he could punch himself in the gut, he would - but that would be way too embarrassing in front of you - hold up, this painting is familiar!

“Well I'll be damned.” He chuckles and turns the canvas towards you, to which you burst out laughing. “I thought you’d have thrown this out.”

“No,” you gaze at the painting with love in your eyes. “I could never, that’s how we met.”

The painted streak he accidentally inflicted upon your artwork remains in the same position. It seems that you never even bothered covering it up and embraced the imperfection. While Jaehyun cannot decipher the magnitude of colors on the canvas, he’s sure that the various strokes look gorgeous and masterful. You’ve always been so talented. He’s so lucky.

As he places the painting upon a now-standing easel, you rest your forehead against his. He loves you. He loves you so much. So much so that he can’t help but take a step closer, not just one but many, and embrace the overwhelming love and passion he holds for you. There are so many words he wants to say, confessions that can carry on for an infinite number of lines, but there’s no need for that now. You have forever - and he decides to start that forever with his favorite thing…

…a kiss.

“I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you more.” He replies.

This is a fancy-ass venue.

Jaehyun can’t help but feel underdressed for the occasion, despite being clad in a fitted white button up and black tie, whilst his dress-shoes cramp his feet in the worst ways imaginable. He almost looks like that one moviestar in the romantic comedy you love so much. Was it the one with the rich guy in Singapore or the one where they worked in an office and he was a businessman? Jaehyun can’t remember. Whatever, it doesn’t really matter either way. He’s distracting himself too much, he needs to focus— tonight is one of the most important nights of your career. No, it is the most important night for your future career. His mother contacted every big art distributor and critic that she has professional relationships with. It’s your night…and wow did you kill it.

It’s almost as if you’ve plastered yourself across the walls. Every art piece that his eyes roll over is exceptionally you - your personality, your passions, and your heart - and it’s obvious you’ve spent months curating the most perfect array of paintings a person could muster.

He can read your story like an open book while he slowly makes his way through the gallery. There are paintings depicting your childhood, ones that remind him of the stories you tell him of your primary school drama and premature interests. That one must be when you broke your arm while learning to ride your bike. You’re particularly stuck on that story— strongly stating how upset you were because it was your dominant arm, halting your ability to paint for seven weeks. Referencing your painting passion, there’s a whole array of canvases dedicated to your love for art; beginning with inspirations of immaturity to skillful selections of texture techniques. Jaehyun is obviously no art critic, but if he were, he’d write a whole expose on how amazing you are.

With his mind so engaged with your talent, he’s oblivious to the people passing by; so oblivious that he doesn’t even notice his own mother approaching.

“She’s talented isn’t she?”

Holy shit. The familiar voice of his mother startles Jaehyun, but he instinctively wraps a loose arm around her waist and greets her with a grin. She returns the affectionate expression and it’s painfully obvious that he got his smile from her, and even more painfully obvious that they’re all related when he notices they’re wearing the matching watches they got for Christmas last year; and when Johnny walks up with his teeth beaming, he also practically looks like part of the family. Long lashes and a toothy grin, the physical brand of the Jeong family; famous in not only arts, but good looks!

“Your girlfriend’s a pro at this shit, Jaehyun.” Johnny ruffles his little best friend’s hair and lightly nudges his shoulder. “I’m surprised anyone could like your annoying ass, let alone a pretty girl.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes at his best friend’s quips, completely ignoring him and focusing on his mom. Johnny’s just jealous because he can’t get a girl to deal with his narcissism. He’d be surprised if Johnny actually kept a girlfriend longer than a month with his high standards and demanding schedule; but that’s a story for another day. What matters now is his mom’s praise of you.

“Y’know I always knew she had an innate ability.” Miss Jeong has a faint smile on her face, gazing at her youngest son with nothing but pure happiness. It’s a true display of a mother’s love for her youngest son, and Jaehyun doesn’t know what he’d do without her guidance. She squeezes his side and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. God, he’d be so embarrassed if his groupmates saw this. “Though, I always thought she specialized in artwork.”

Hm? Jaehyun sends a puzzled glance in her direction. What is she going on about?

His mom continues, knowing her son well enough that he needs a clear explanation in order to understand anything at all, and presses her hand against his chest. “I didn’t realize she was so skilled at touching hearts.”

His heart is beating faster at the mere thought of your beauty.

There are tears behind Miss Jeong’s eyes and Jaehyun can feel the waterworks attempting to break his own dam. They’re an emotional duo, him and his mom, Johnny gets tired of their antics sometimes— but Jaehyun knows he loves them. Their mom always knows the right thing to say. “I never thought I’d see you like this, Jaehyun.”

Johnny smirks, nodding in agreement. “You seem so at ease. It’s cute.”

Reflexively, he pulls them both into a big hug— which is the first hug he’s given Johnny since he was nothing but a young boy, afraid and stressed, auditioning for the very first time. Jaehyun finally understands what it means to love and be loved, all because of you; and now he can apply that same love to his best friend, who’s been there for him for so long. The overwhelming comfort he feels in his family’s arms is the same warmth he felt when he made his first song and ran into his mother to celebrate his newfound passion. For a long time, Jaehyun believed that it was only possible to have that one singular passion. Oh how wrong he was.

“I get it now.” he says softly into their ears. “She helped me understand.”

“And we’re happy for you,” Johnny pats him on the back as hard as he can, eliciting a threatening glare from his younger sibling, to which their mother laughs.

“Check out the centerpieces down the hall.” Miss Jeong nudges Jaehyun on, standing beside Johnny. “I think you’ll love them, sweetheart.”

With their encouragement, he carries on with the gallery and down the straight hallway of evolving paintings. Every step he takes, seems to carry him into a new era of your life. It’s almost as if he’s time traveling through memories that seemingly morph from abstract to realistic art; and he learns more and more about you with each passing second, ultimately leading towards one large painting in the center of the room.

Holy shit. You’re breathtaking.

Never in Jaehyun’s life has his world stopped due to paint on canvas— but right now, it feels like every single brush stroke is a frozen second that he gets to relive again and again, just basking in the presence of your beautiful skill.

The way you’ve outlined your hair with thin lines and highlighted your lovely cheekbones, is nothing short of masterful. If he looks close enough, he can understand the comforting feeling of cupping your face with just his eyes. He didn’t even know you did self-portraits, but now he wishes he could hang this very one right above his couch; to show off the talent of his amazing girlfriend for everyone to see (not that he actually has many friends other than his groupmates).

Where are you? He needs to let you know how special it is to be with someone like you—

“Cat got your tongue?”

Speak of the devil.

“Do you like it?” You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly. “What do you think?”

You said the same thing when you first met.

Jaehyun looks between you and the painting, now realizing that no matter how masterful your skill is, it’s impossible to capture just how gorgeous you are in any form of art. You’re simply exquisite. The most talented painter in the world wouldn’t know how to appreciate your beauty. Davinci? No. Botticelli? No. Di Angelo? Not even he could sculpt your features to perfection. However, despite his high standards, Jaehyun believes that your self portrait is the greatest thing he’s ever seen.

The familiar feeling of flusteredness grows on his cheeks as he holds eye-contact with you, wondering what color it is you’re wearing. He bets it’s red, you always wear red around him. “I love it.”

As your right hand finds his palm, the left reaches up and cups his cheek. With a gentle touch, your lips are on his and Jaehyun feels his head take a spin on the merry-go-round of love. He can’t get enough of you. If he had a choice, he’d spend every waking second of his day peppering you in light kisses on every part of your body— and he’d make sure that you never felt loneliness again. You deserve nothing less than the absolute best, and he’s made it his life’s goal to give that to you.

Slowly, he begins to feel your smile against his lips and you pull away with a lovesick gaze. He pulls you into his chest, cradling your head and kissing it softly before whispering how proud he is, and it’s almost unbelievable how far Jaehyun’s come. Somehow you’ve lured him into a bottomless ravine where the only resource to live is to be hopelessly in love with you— and truthfully, he never wants to escape. You’re everything to him.

“You love it?” your eyes are shining brighter than the sun. “You haven’t even seen my best work yet.”

“Oh?’ Jaehyun raises his brows, mocking surprise at your statement. “Well now you have to show me. It’s only fair.”

You place your hands on his chest and peck his lips before spinning him around. He’s confused for a moment, wondering what you’re doing when you could’ve just led him to the canvas instead of guiding him around like it’s a dance class…but then he sees it.

He sees himself.

Never in his life has he completely understood what being in love is. Yes, he's felt love. From his mother, who raised him to be the man he is; caring, thoughtful, and compassionate. From his best friend, who helped him understand ambition and sacrifice. From his groupmates, who challenge him to be the best he possibly can and to support one another without holding grudges. He's felt different types of love from so many people in his life. Familial. Platonic. Admiration. This is different, though. The love you show him is true love. It's the kind of love that movie stars win awards for portraying. It's the fantasy that kids dream about having when they grow up into big adults. It's the thing he thought was impossible to obtain, but was lucky enough to stumble upon you in that empty art studio on the best day of his life.

He didn't know love could be expressed in this kind of way. Through the very same paint strokes and brush marks that used to make him nauseous with hatred. Seeing your masterpiece, he doesn't understand how he could ever hate something so amazing. Art is spectacular. No. Your art is spectacular. You are spectacular.

"You love it right?" You're trying your best not to giggle at his awestruck reaction. "Want to know the best part?"

Jaehyun can feel himself nodding, desperately reaching for your hand in an attempt to ground himself from the air he's walking on— and you begin to explain. "It's a dual piece. Notice how we're facing each other?"

Oh my god, you are facing each other. He hadn't noticed it before, but he can see clearly now. You've placed him in the dead center of the room, giving him a full view of both of the paintings— opposite of one another on two opposing easels. "Tell me more, baby." His voice is nothing louder than a whisper, only for you to hear.

"I'm painted in black and white."

Oh?

"You're painted in color."

...Oh.

"I wanted to show how love knows no bounds. There's beauty in how you see me and how I see you. It doesn't matter that I'm colorless to you, you still look at me like I'm the prettiest girl in the world; and I only wish you could understand how vibrant your eyes are, Jaehyun. You're the most handsome man I've seen in my entire life."

He loves you.

He loves you so, so much.

A part of his heart feels like he's falling in love with you all over again. It's growing larger and larger, unable to contain the capacity of feelings he holds for you. He's so overwhelmed with joy that tears begin to fight to escape his eyes, ultimately dripping down his cheeks like watercolor on paper, and he sweeps you into the tightest hug known to man.

There's really only one thing left to do. One thing to close this chapter and carry on with the rest of your love story, something that's sacred only between the two of you. Something that he hopes to say to you everyday, every night, every hour, and every minute that he can.

"I love you."

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀thank you so much for reading + supporting! ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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markscherz · 1 month

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do you like becoming tumblr famous or is it scary

So far, it's pretty good. I get an astonishing number of asks, and I feel bad that I cannot answer or address them all, but other than that, practically everyone has been lovely so far.

I have a bit of an odd relationship with fame. For much of my childhood, I idolised people who were famous, and dreamt of one day being famous, too. As I grew up, I met or interacted with more and more famous people, and later even got to know some very well. When you see it up close, it is often not desirable at all. It is in fact a huge strain on these people. And that's something I think we often forget; these are just people. Just apes wearing silly scraps of fabric and worrying about their families and their health, just like everyone else.

And so, I have no real interest in being famous, tumblr or otherwise. But I do enjoy having a wonderful, large, and continuously growing audience who revel in and enjoy the weird and wonderful creatures that I spend so much of my time thinking about, working on, and pursuing. I hope that it continues to grow! As I say, you have all been really lovely so far, and I could not find a better community on any other platform—of that I am sure! 🐸

#fame #tumblr fame #answers by Mark #about me #anon #anonymous #the internet is really really great #for frogs #not shown: the absolute BONKERS feeling of seeing your name in an article in NYT or National Geographic #or your research featured in the magazine you used to get yourself as a kid #now that is weird #being an adult is bizarre

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kmartinswife · 1 month

Text

kate martin x reader

heyy!

this is my first ever post on tumblr after being on here for 2 years... this is also my first attempt at a one shot/fic so please give me any pointers or critiques!!

———

words - 1050

a bit angstyyy but not really

warnings? just maybe alcohol and kissing.

Two weeks had passed since the end of your undefined relationship with Kate, and it had taken a toll on you. While spending countless hours together, flirting and being more than friends, it suddenly came to an end over some miscommunication. You didn't understand why she flipped out over nothing, and the pure dramatics she showed scared you from trying to reconcile. Both of you decided whatever you had was done and assumed it was over.

Since both of you play for the Iowa Hawkeyes, you see her every single day. To the best of your knowledge, the rest of the team never caught on to the shared laughs, sneaking around, and secret glances. Your eyes still linger on Kate longer than anyone else, especially when she's laughing it up with Caitlin and Gabbie for what feels like hours. You wished it was you that was making her eyes light up and her smile wide, not Caitlin.

You had tried to stay upbeat and confident, but it was hard when Kate paid no more than necessary attention to you. All you wanted was to reverse back 14 days and fix your fight. Apologize. Make her listen. Anything to get her back laughing with you and hanging out whenever you didn't have classes or basketball.

At the 20 day mark, Iowa had come back winners from a home game, and the team decided a karaoke bar was the best idea for celebrating. You had played an amazing game, putting up your best numbers of the season. Kate hadn't even batted an eye. The press conference was a joke to you, reporters congratulating you and asking you how good it felt, but in all honesty you felt like shit over an ex-situationship.

Hannah had to practically force you into coming to the bar after telling the team you had too much homework to party. This is how you ended up in your tiniest top and best-fitting jeans slouched on the bar alone, watching Kate flirt with a random girl. Jealousy filled you. Could she not do this another time? Why did it have to be when you were watching?

"You played pretty amazing out there tonight," Gabbie approached you and took a seat, "and it's clear you dressed up a bit more than usual, but you're still sulking in a corner. Tell me what's up. Please?"

You sighed and turned to look her in the eyes. Her eyes looked soft back at you as you stayed silent. You slowly gazed away and back toward Kate and her new girl. Gabby must've caught on.

"Caitlin and I know about you two. She wants you back, if you can't tell," Gabby told you, "she was a mess before the game tonight. She's been a mess."

You guys discussed it, and you both were going to keep it a secret, you don't understand why she told multiple people. You finally found your voice, "It doesn't seem like she gives a fuck about me anymore. Look at her. I don't know if I ever made her as happy as that random drunk girl is," you stated.

"Come on, you know she missed you. She regrets walking away like that. Just talk to her, please?" Gabbie pleaded.

Kate had left the girl and was now standing alone at the bar. She was leaned up against it, staring at Gabbie and you, displaying an unreadable expression. She was wearing dark black jeans, and a tight halter tank. Kate's hair was in a low bun, with chunks pulled out to frame her face. She looked hot. No wonder that girl flirted with her, Kate was astonishing tonight.

"Gabbie, she's ignored me for the past few weeks. What do I even say to her?" You asked, nervous because of Gabbie's pressure.

"Tell her how you feel. I am one hundred percent sure she will open up to you. I hate seeing you both like this," Gabbie replied.

"Okay," you replied, and Gabbie gave your back a quick tap before turning away to play a drinking game with most of your teammates.

You sat with your thoughts for a moment. Of course you forgave her, she was Kate after all, and it was really just a heated moment. Neither of you made a move to sit beside the other. There was a good chunk of room separating the pair of you, far enough you could hardly see her in your peripheral vision. You didn't believe you had the confidence to face her right now.

Busy in your thoughts, you didn't realize Kate had plunked herself down right beside you. Neither of you looked at each other, rather choosing to remain cold and stare directly forward. She nested a rum and coke in her left hand, slowly pushing it around, revealing her rings decorating her fingers. The rings you used to love so dearly.

“I should have stayed,” she started, “I’m sorry.”

You sat with it for a moment. Not daring to look at her. You knew you forgave her, so why was it so hard to get the words out?

“I really disliked not being listened to, Kate. It really hurt,” you said. You felt mature, putting your feelings out for show, “I want to understand you, that's all I ever wanted. But I cannot understand why you stormed out.”

She turned to you, “In the moment, I was upset. I've run it through my head hundreds of times. I was unsure of what to do, so I left. I don't think I was ready to have a relationship-level fight with you. I just didn't want to hurt us. I want us back to normal — actually, I want more than normal with you, I don't want us to be a secret.”

You huffed and took a sip of your drink, “I understand. Thank you for apologizing,” you replied and turned toward her, looking into her caring blue eyes, “oh my goodness, I have missed you.”

You leaned in for a hug and Kate accepted gratefully. You both missed each other so much. The embrace lasted as you were reminded of her simple, yet perfect, perfume, and the warmth of her skin. God did you miss her.

“You played so well tonight, it was amazing. You're amazing,” she told you as you leaned out of her embrace.

A wide smile grew onto your features and you knew you were back on track, “Want to get out of here?”

#iowa wbb #kate martin #kate martin x reader #iowa hawkeyes

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ozzgin · 5 months

Note

Greetings! How you doing today/tonight?

This is not a request or anything

Hopefully you're doing fine, cuz I'm not, I have a shitty cold rn and I just finished 5 tissue roll papers in just a few hours

Anyway this ain't about me, just wanted to see how you were doing since I've been a bit inactive with tumblr with the past few days

Have a great day/night :3

-🎧anon

Aww, sorry to hear that. We’re definitely entering cold/flu season. Mid-October I’ve gotten ill with some virus, no idea what it was, but I had no other symptoms other than terribly swollen sinuses. Which, in turn, pressed on my tooth nerves, so I had massive tooth pain for days. Never dealt with anything like that before and it sounds downright ridiculous, turns out it’s an actual thing. Start taking immunity supplements and avoid visibly sick people!

I know you said it’s not a request, but I couldn’t help the thought of “How would the Baki characters take care of you?” So I did write some short headcanons after all. For you and anyone else currently bedridden. :)

Baki Characters x Sick! Reader

Featuring Baki and Jack Hanma, Kaiou Retsu, Katsumi Orochi and Pickle. And a reader that’s battling a cold!

Baki Hanma

There are two stages of Baki’s involvement. Once you’re not answering his calls he will be at your front door, worried and considering ways to break in. That’s when he hears the muffled coughing and sneezing through the walls and figures it out: You’re sick. He’ll return with a bag of supplies and offer to stay at your place until you feel better. His help consists of quick Google searches, because he’s never had anyone doting on him and consequently has no idea how to care for someone in such situations.

Second and final stage is him getting sick from you. You’ll wake up in the middle of the night to see him trying to hold back his cough, at first denying his poor health until you touch his forehead and it’s burning. The bad news is that you’re both bedridden. Baki is beyond embarrassed, attempting to justify himself and explaining it has never happened before. Eventually one of his or your friends will show up and pay the occasional visit to play nurse. At least you’re not suffering alone. You’re not sure if it’s an actual saying, but you’re tempted to believe colds go away faster in good company.

Jack Hanma

You don’t want to interfere with Jack’s routine, so once you wake up with the familiar sore muscles, you decide to quietly recover from home. Jack notices your absence and while he does not want to be nonchalant and potentially impose on your personal troubles, he can’t help the curiosity. In fact, he spends the whole training time wondering why you’ve skipped your usual visits. So when you hear a knock on the door you don’t think twice about opening it. Probably your food delivery. Only when you notice Jack’s massive frame blocking any outside view, you gasp in surprise.

“Oh. You seem to be ill.” Is all he states before turning on his heels and leaving. You stand there baffled and eventually return to your warm bed. Just as you cozy up, there’s another knock and you groan, throwing the blankets off of you. This better be the hot soup you ordered. Except it’s Jack again, holding not only your delivery, but also multiple other bags with groceries peeking out. “Y-you’re back?” You mumble. “Well, can’t do much empty handed. Here’s your order, but I got some extra things to help with your cold”, he states as he invites himself in.

Kaiou Retsu

You know Retsu will be worried about you, so you try your best to mask the symptoms over the phone. “That’s a stuffed nose. Are you sick?” He immediately points out. Uh oh. You fumble with some excuses and he promptly hangs up. Have you upset him? You’re starting to feel bad. He’s never dropped out of a conversation like this before. You try to call back several times until you’re distracted by the sound of your doorbell. You’re not in the mood for visitors. You continue your attempts to reach Retsu as you approach the door and open it. “I suspected as much.” Your head snaps up hearing the familiar voice.

Before you can say anything, you’re casually lifted up and brought to your bed. As if he’s been doing it his entire life, the Kenpo master tucks you in and pulls out an apron from his bag. “I’ll check what ingredients you already have in your pantry and go buy the rest. Before that, I’ll make you a tea. Any preferences?” You open your mouth to speak, but he’s already walking away, describing the best choice of drink for the common cold. Really, the best thing you can do right now is to rest and leave everything else to him.

Katsumi Orochi

Usually, Katsumi will avoid using the spare key you’ve given him. On the other hand, he was supposed to pick you up for your regular date night and you haven’t answered his persistent knocking, so you leave him little choice. He quietly apologizes for the intrusion as he unlocks the door and tiptoes his way in. The lights are off and he’s becoming increasingly anxious, almost sprinting to your bedroom. He stops in his tracks once he sees you buried under the blankets, passed out and sweaty from an obvious cold.

Ah. Well, that makes sense. He smiles to himself and gently pats your forehead to make sure it’s nothing serious, then sneaks out of the room. You wake up hours later, groggy and sore. It suddenly occurs to you that you’ve slept through your date and jolt up, nearly collapsing in the process. You erratically search for your phone and call Katsumi to apologize. Simultaneously you hear his ringtone nearby, so you limp outside, confused. As you reach the kitchen, a pleasant smell invades your nostrils. Katsumi turns to look at you. “You’re awake! I made something to help with your cold. I’ll bring it to your bed, so you can go back and rest. We can’t skip our romantic dinner.” He chuckles after the last statement.

Pickle

Pickle has been ill at least once in his life, so he can quickly guess that your coughing and runny nose is not something that’s supposed to happen on the regular. Although, if he’s honest, he has no idea what he should do. He’d deal with his sickness by just sleeping it out, or downright ignoring it. Seeing you like this, however, fills him with an overwhelming desire to help you. He does love you, after all. Witnessing your suffering isn’t something he does with ease.

He manages to gesture the situation to Baki, who follows him back to your place and proceeds to do the first aid he’d sporadically learned over the years. A rather clumsy attempt, but it’s better than nothing. Once Pickle has observed the steps, he swiftly shoos the young boy away. All he needed was a little bit of demonstration, some brief instruction on the modern ways. Everything else will be done by him. It’s only proper that the actual care is performed by your partner. You’re a little afraid of the potential outcome to this experiment. Especially once you hear the loud rattles coming from the kitchen. Don’t worry, it’s all made with love.

*My partner has insisted that I include Yuujirou Hanma just to say that he’d tenderly piss on you. I compromised on a footnote.

#baki #baki the grappler #baki hanma #baki headcanons #baki x reader #pickle baki #pickle x reader #jack hanma #jack hanma x reader #kaiou retsu x reader #kaiou retsu #katsumi orochi x reader #orochi katsumi #katsumi orochi

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turtletaubwrites · 3 months

Text

One Piece x Introverted!Reader (pt. 1?)

Thank you anon for this request! This is my first time writing headcanons, so I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Headcanons and drabbles for Zoro, Sanji, and Robin with an introverted partner.

Word Count: 1327

Rating/Warnings: SFW, Just Fluff, maybe a smidgen of Angst, Alcohol

A/N: I've had to start splitting my posts from the ask, tumblr was flipping out every time I was editing. I hope you don't mind I've started linking them instead!

Zoro

Zoro enjoys this part of you, and you find an easy rhythm with each other.

You can spend hours near each other without speaking, and it feels comfy and safe. Reading a book, or working on your own tasks while he works out is an almost daily ritual (taking plenty of breaks to watch him, of course).

During the many feasts and celebrations that seem to occur, Zoro tends to loosen up more with booze, and he’ll wrap his arm around you during conversations. He’s gotten to know your body language well, and even drunk, he’d notice if you were uncomfortable or worn out. He wouldn’t even make an excuse or say goodbye to the group, he’d just drag you (or pick you up) and find a quiet spot to relax together. Preferably with a bottle of sake.

If Zoro notices you having trouble speaking to people in public, he might try to find ways to help you feel stronger without bringing it up directly, like teaching you breathing exercises, or power stances, etc.

“Why are you teaching me this?” “So you can feel, uh… Well, you’re a pirate. Pirates need to breathe… good.”

Drabble

“You okay?”

You pulled your hands away from your temples, the dull headache still creeping on you. Zoro sat beside you, spreading his legs out on the dirt, his back against the large tree.

The rest of the crew was laughing around the fire, another triumph to celebrate with the locals.

“It’s just been a long day. I’ll be good in a minute.”

He hummed, setting his hand out between you in case you wanted to hold it. You did.

“You don’t have to. They’re too loud anyway.”

Your lips pulled into a small, but grateful smile as you leaned onto his warm shoulder. His fingers squeezed yours gently, before his other hand brought a bottle to his lips.

He gestured it toward you, and you hummed your ‘no’ before letting your eyes close.

Zoro’s quiet warmth beside you filled you up. You never felt like a burden with him. He would just join you, as if it was normal.

“Thank you.”

He huffed a laugh, voice low.

“Like I said, those idiots are too loud. I’d rather be here with you.”

Sanji

Sanji prides himself on meeting your every need, but it would take some practice for him to figure it out, unless you’re clear with him.

He wants to spoil you, to show you off, to bring you out on dates at every island.

If you’re not open with him about your needs to recharge, and he sees you getting drained with him, he might get worried. He'd wonder what he’s doing wrong, and would overcompensate.

Eventually he’d connect the dots, but if you just tell him then he’ll cater to you. He wants you to feel cherished, and he won’t mind making changes for you, as long as he knows what you need.

But he will have a hard time not showering you with compliments all day, often in front of strangers and even enemies.

“My sunshine, my darling. You look so gorgeous under the stars like this. Don’t mind them, I’ll kick their asses so I can get back to worshiping you.”

Sanji would take note of all the things that comfort you. Whatever items like books, sweaters, fidgets, etc, and he would make sure to have them in reach for you if he saw your tells.

He’d also love whisking you away from any situation. If he noticed your demeanor shift, or if you leaned against him and whispered that you needed to leave, he would make up any excuse to get you out of there.

“My sweetheart needs some tea, we’ll catch up with you later. No Usopp, you don’t get any tea, go away.”

Drabble

“My love, is this dinner not to your liking? We can go back to the ship, I’ll make you whatever you like.”

“No Sanji, it’s delicious,” you said with a weak smile, guilt riding you for your drop in mood in the middle of the date he’d set up in the local town.

The look of concern on his face made you sigh.

Why do I always have to bring people down?

“Please, mon coeur, tell me if there’s something bothering you. Is it something I’ve done?”

“No, Sanji, I’m so sorry. I just have a hard time around a lot of people for too long. I love our date, I just get drained sometimes. I’m sor–”

“Don’t be sorry, dear. How about we take this to go? We can eat at the park on the way, or back at the ship? Whatever you need.”

The hurt and concern was gone from his face, replaced by a soft smile that made you lift your eyes to the ceiling to stop the hint of tears from welling up.

“I’m sorry I ruined–”

“Mon amour, I won’t listen to another word of that.”

His tone was firm as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, almost a fierceness in his eyes now.

“And I will boil anyone that’s made you feel this way before. I’m happy with you anywhere. As long as you’re happy.”

You bit your quivering lip, trying not to think of partners in the past that had gotten angry at you when you’d need a break, when you didn’t want to go out.

Sanji was different. Now that he knew, he checks in, he makes changes, and that pressure you used to feel is fading.

“Anything you need, my love.”

Robin

You’d never have to worry, Robin is always your safe haven.

Even around the rest of the crew, Robin seems to have a quiet little corner, and you can sit with her, recharging as she reads, sending you a gentle smile now and then.

At parties, Robin will catch your gaze, often pulling you away from the group to go explore the area on your own. Always hunting for books, pets, and cozy spots.

If Robin notices you’re uncomfortable with people near you, she’d literally spawn arms on you to push them back a bit. Usually would only do this within the crew, and everyone would laugh while she pulled you away from the more rambunctious crew members. (i.e. Luffy hanging on you, and yelling directly in your ear, lol)

Robin is an introvert, and she’s found a great balance for herself. She helps you figure out what you need, and what your limits are, and it feels wonderful to have someone understand and support you so well

She’s the best girl 🥰

Drabble

“Mmhm,” you nodded, sipping your drink as Nami and Usopp chatted with the group’s new friends.

You hadn’t been able to chat for awhile now, brain slowly slinking back in your skull with guilt as you tried to keep a friendly look on your face.

You coughed to cover a gasp, the group turning to focus on you.

“Uh, excuse me. I’m going to grab another drink.”

The arm that had spawned on your back to tap gently on your shoulder tapped again until you turned to that side. There was Robin, smiling at you as she sat at the bottom of a staircase.

Letting out a strained breath, you made your way to her, already feeling lighter.

“Care to take a break with me, darling?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed, kissing her cheek as you sat beside her.

Robin leaned against you, people watching as you closed your eyes for a while. Now and then she would let out a soft hum or a low chuckle, and you grinned. Robin saw so much, and you loved to hear what she learned from people just by watching them.

There was no pressure to return to the group. You could stay and watch with Robin, you could head back to the ship. You could do whatever felt best, and Robin would still be Robin. She’d still smile at you, just like this.

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think, normally I just write a whole ass thing, lol

#one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #turtletaub hcs and drabbles #sanji headcanons #zoro headcanons #x reader #nico robin headcanons #fic requests #mine

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konigsluvr · 9 months

Note

Hey hey! I'd like to request König headcanons please. I was thinking more of his childhood but it can be anything really :D thanks x

Also I'm an Avatar fan too! Don't seem to know a lot of people who are into both #teamneteyam

Hey!! I looooove Avatar so much, I haven't been reading it much lately but 2 months ago I was on tumblr all day, everyday just reading various Avatar fics (best days of my life). I miss neteyam so much :(( I really hope this is to your liking<3 i have included some NSFW headcannons, but there will be a warning, if you are uncomfortable, just skip. Reposts are highly appreciated. I will literally marry you. And of course, here I present...

★ navigation ★ masterlist ★

König Headcanons

Includes: Childhood König. König x fem!reader. Fluff. Spice. Smut.

☆ As said in his biography, he has suffered from severe social anxiety throughout his life. This probably started developing in maybe late childhood/early teens.

☆ I can picture him as the quiet kid in school. Had a couple chill friends that he was comfortable around and hung out with after school.

☆ I think König was average grade student (like me lmao), not bad grades but not super good either, he just did what he had to do at school.

☆ He liked helping around the house so he could contribute and help his parents save time.

☆ He applied to the military at 17, having a job that allows him to blow off steam would help with his anxiety sometimes but if it's a more dangerous mission than usual, his anxiety might peak but he could have coping mechanisms.

☆ Even though he is 6'10" and literally all muscle, he can't stay still. Due to his anxiety again, he is fidgety at times depending on the social situation he is in. Now this leads onto the relationship stuff.

☆ With him being fidgety, I feel his love language is physical touch. He can sometimes struggle with his words but you always know that he loves you when he cuddles you or does little things like playing with your hair or holding your hand whenever you are in public.

☆ König isn't the best at working with technology but you'll show him how he can text you and phone you, so whenever he has free time at base or whenever he isn't with you, expect him spamming you with texts because he misses you so much :((

☆ He has a gym at home for when he wants to work out but with him having such a physical job he doesn't feel the need to workout everyday, maybe 3 or 4 times a week when he's home with you but at base he'll do it more as its like the only thing to do there.

☆ He enjoys going on walks. When he's home with you he'll love going on a walk in the woods or just wondering around town with you, go shopping to get food for supper or something, he'll sneakily buy flowers to surprise you. At base, he sometimes can't sleep well so he'll just walk around for some fresh air to clear his mind.

☆ His down time with you would be watching your favourite show or a random movie. He would do it just to cuddle up or be with you but he will get invested. Like I watched the notebook last night and I was thinking about König crying as you watch the notebook together.

☆ Like you'll be watching the movie and a sad scene comes up, you are already crying and you hear a sniffle but it isn't from you. You turn to your left and see a tear rolling down Königs cheek. This will make you cry harder as you wipe away his tears and cuddle into his neck.

☆ With König having a high payed job, he has a lot of money that he doesn't know how to spend. Lucky him, he has you. You would tell him its no bother, that you have enough clothes and pretty jewellery to last you a lifetime but he drags you to the car to your favourite store and you can't help but give in.

☆ He would get a former guard dog and train it to only command you and him, this dog would stay at home with you all the time. You would take it out walks and just spend your whole day with it. He wants to make sure you are safe all of the time.

NSFW AHEAD!!

☆ He likes to take it slow, make ethereal love to you and treat you like your made of glass. You would let a few tears roll down your cheek from his sweetness.

☆ Pussy eater!!! He is like a god with his tongue. Worships your clit like its his favourite thing while his fingers work in and out of you. It doesn't matter if you are crying from overstimulation, you have a safe word. His only mission is making you cum.

☆ Loves face sitting, literally just loves your pussy on his face and your thighs pushing against the side of his head. You would tell him that you are too heavy, he huffs frustrated and pulls you down on him and instantly gets to work. Let's just say, you forgot about what you said 3 seconds ago.

☆ Breeding kink. Sorry, not sorry. In all his fantasies about you, it's you all pretty n pregnant with his baby. You will have that pregnant woman glow and he just can't keep his hands off of you. He doesn't really wear condoms but you'll usually be on the pill, he still struggles to pull out but it's nearly impossible for him. But when he does cum in you, he finds it the sexiest thing ever. He'll use his fingers to plunge his load back into you to feed his growing hunger.

☆ He loves when you top him and take your time with him, but he also enjoys being in charge and having his sole focus on you, even if you just came for the fourth time from his tongue and his cock is rock hard.

☆ The ratio between him giving you head and you giving him head is very diverse. He loves a good blowie but only does it when you want to, he will never ask you.

☆ Isn't one for quickies, he wants to take his time with you. He wouldn't like the risk of someone else seeing you being intimate with him, that is a sight only for him to see.

☆ Isn't afraid to make noise in the bedroom. Whimpering. Moaning. Whining. Groaning. He does it all.

I hoped you liked this!! If you have any more requests don't be shy. Stay safe and take care of yourself my lovies xx

#konig mw2 #konig cod #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig modern warfare #konig headcanons #konig #call of duty x reader #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #call of duty #konig fluff #konig smut #konigsluvr

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sleepy-wyvern · 10 months

Text

His Hummingbird (Miguel O'Hara x female!reader smut)

{Angsty smut oneshot}

Available: here on Tumblr and AO3

WC: ~2.2k [oneshot]

Synopsis: You're a human female who has a boyfriend from another dimension; Spider-Man 2099. Miguel visits your apartment late at night as a surprise after not seeing him for a week.

I HAD TO GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD BEFORE I COULD FOCUS ON OTHER FICS IM SORRY ;-;

Inspirations: the song Hummingbird by Metro Bloomin and James Blake and you know the fang scene… man definitely bites 👀

A/N: If y’all want/request more I may write more, otherwise this is a one shot ❤️ leave a comment or reblog if you liked.

Warnings/tags: Angst, Smut (18+ Minors DNI), hickies (lotsa biting), fingering, light begging from reader, p in v (condom), light male whimpering

Disclaimer: I borrowed my spanglish friend for some of the translations here. Feel free to send an ask or comment if something feels off.

Enjoy!

The moon shone bright through the heavy clouds as you wondered where your spider was.

Fighting crime, defeating evil, saving lives, all nothing you could complain about. Another universe, another day, another “business trip.” He used that phrase to try and make you feel better but it couldn’t take away from the fact that one day he may not return. Perhaps if things went bad enough you wouldn’t ever be able to know what happened to him, just spending the rest of your life waiting for someone who would never return. You tried your best to shove the thought away as you fiddled with the window latch.

You pushed open the window widely to get whatever cool night air you could in your little city apartment. As the hot summer days neared closer you took solace in the cold rainy night. The sound of the rain and the city traffic was oddly comforting.

You turned and walked toward the kitchen sink opposite of the room figuring you'd at least try to get some chores done. It was a small-ish apartment the size of a hotel room really. The biggest room was the merged kitchen and living room. Still, it was familiar enough space for you to sense the presence behind you.

The moment you turned your back you heard the window blinds gently tap against the window pane; anyone else would’ve thought that had been the wind. Anyone else without a spider person lover anyways.

“Do spiders ever use the door?” You spoke without turning around, instead you turned the faucet on to do the dishes.

“You should start locking that window at night,” his gruff voice was directly behind you.

“Miguel,” you sighed, twisting the tap off before turning around.

It had been a week since his last visit, the longest ever since you started “seeing” each other. You hadn’t put a label on anything yet, what could you call a lover from another dimension that could never stay with you?

Every time you saw him after a prolonged period you were intimidated by how he stood over you. He hadn’t meant to be intimidating as his mask was already removed, yet it was hard to ignore his height and size of his build especially when he had to look down at you.

“Nobody can enter a 4th story window,” you smiled. “Just you.”

Despite that you were angry he was gone for so long your heart melted at the sight of his brown locks falling gracefully over his forehead. He wore his blue and red spider suit as he always did when traveling.

He wrapped his large arms around your waist, pulling you close into his hot embrace. He planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Te extrañé…” He trailed off as he pulled back to look into your eyes.

He held his hands against your face when you eyed his bracelet; the thing that let him stay here with you without “glitching out.” It was a grim reminder of what could never be. Despite the comfort you got from his rough hands against your soft face, it made you sad.

“I missed you too,” you sighed, overlapping his hand with your smaller one.

The bracelet was cool to the touch as you frowned. “Where have you been?” You scolded, “You told me you’d be back by Monday. It’s Friday!”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed furrowing his brows. “It’s work.”

“It always is,” You turn around putting your hands on the smooth countertop.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he offered, sounding sad and hopeful.

You knew he didn’t mean to make you worry or make you sad. You both wished things were different. It would make it so much easier. You knew though that if he could change things he would and you didn’t want to hold what was out of his control against him. It wasn’t his fault you were born in different worlds, different universes. It didn’t help that you weren’t a spider person either.

You felt his hands gently against your waist as he moved closer to you.

“I'm sorry." He sighed. "Mi pequeña colibrí…” he whispered into your ear. His breath was hot and heavy against your neck sending shivers down your body.

“Oh stop, you can’t use the español to make me feel better! No fair!” You laughed.

He placed a kiss on your ear that tickled before you spun back around, wrapping your arms over his shoulders.

“My spiderman,” You giggled as his look of concern melted into happiness. "I'm not mad at you. Just try to let me know if you'll be late next time."

The corner of his lips turned upward ever so slightly in relief. "I promise."

Another thing that was likely yours only; Miguel’s smile. When Jessica met you she was surprised you were even real. She warned you to not mention much of Miguel’s personal life activities to the other spider people but it was hard to remember. Once you accidentally mentioned the flowers on your table were from Miguel to Gwen she nearly fainted. You adored the way he treated you special even if you weren’t sure why he chose you. You could never be mad at him for something he couldn't control.

He brushed his thumbs in a circular motion against your waist as he held you. His dark eyes were full of love as he looked down at you.

You ran your fingers back through his brown hair. He seemed to sigh beneath your touch, it was thrilling in a way to know he was comfortable enough around you to let his guard down. Nobody else could see Miguel the way you did.

“You need to stop being so stressed. Relax more.” You sighed bringing your fingers to his forehead. “Grumpy wrinkles.”

He chuckled low as he held you tightly. He brought his face down into your neck to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume that he loved so much.

“I know what helps with that,” his voice was deep and silky and fuck it made your body melt.

You giggled as his sweet kisses turned into loving nibbles. He was careful to not hurt you with his fangs but he knew how much you loved his gentle biting. You had a hunch he loved it as much as you did. On top of that it’s been a week without it and damn you missed him.

You let his touch overwhelm you as he held you, softly biting against your delicate skin. His body tensed against you the moment you let out a small pleasurable gasp.

“Hm,” He huffed deeply as he pulled back. “I forgot my strength. I’m sorry, mi colibrí.”

He brought his fingers up to your neck, wiping away the wetness before examining the hickie left behind.

“That’s what makeup is for,” you reassured. “Now, you have a week to make up for…”

“No better time to start than now,” he knocked off the stack of papers that were laying on the countertop.

Before you could react he grabbed your hips, lifting you into the air. You let out a faint gasp as you wrapped your legs around him.

“Miguel!” You scolded as he smirked at you, placing you on the empty countertop space. “Naughty, what has become of you?” You teased him.

“You have become of me,” he pressed his hot lips against yours hungrily.

He brought his hands around to the back of your head holding you close so he could kiss you deeply. It wasn’t long before you could feel his cool tongue against your lips. You opened your mouth letting him in, his cold mouth meeting your warm one.

You brought your hands to his shoulders feeling the fabric of his suit. Eagerly you moved your fingers to his back, grasping for the zipper. You rotated between feeling the muscles of his back and fumbling with the damn zipper making your kisses turn sloppy.

“Eager aren’t we?” He laughed low and deep in his throat, it wasn’t a mocking tone. In fact you knew he loved it.

He shimmied his shoulders out of the suit and it took all of your power not to basically drool over him. You wasted no time bringing your hands to feel his hot skin, tracing your fingers lovingly over the scars on his chest.

You buried your fingers in his hair as your lips met again. The man loves to kiss you, almost as much as he loves to bite you. He took the opportunity to switch to biting your neck whenever you pulled back to breathe.

He slowly brought his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, running his calloused fingers along your silky smooth torso. You separated from him only long enough to remove the pesky fabric of your top before diving back into him again.

You could feel the bulge in his underwear against your leg as he leaned forward to undo the clasp of your bra. He brought his large hands to your breasts lovingly cupping and massaging them. Goosebumps rose against his skin at the sound of your soft, lustful moans.

“More baby,” you whispered.

He brought his lips to your nipple, his hair tickling your chest. You tilted your head down letting yourself get lost in the scent of his shampoo while he planted wet kisses against your stiff nipple. His grabs on your body slowly turned more rough as you felt his teeth against your skin.

“More,” you demand. It’s been a week and damn you wanted him more than anything.

He hooked his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your leggings and panties as you shimmied to help. Your body shivered as the fabric pooled to the floor. Miguel looked at your body with a mixture of awe and hunger- a deep lust filled hunger.

He brought his index and middle finger to your entrance, smiling when he felt how wet you were.

“You really did miss me huh, mi pequeña colibrí?”

You nodded “mmm’, yes I did. Need you, Miguel.” You whined feeling him circle your entrance.

He wasn’t cruel to make you wait as he plunged his fingers in. Your back arched as you gasped, spreading your legs desperate for him deeper. Feeling his fingers arch against your walls and watching the movements of his wrist as he pleased you was intoxicating.

Still you wanted more.

“Please, baby,” you whimpered.

Your body whined when he stopped and pulled his fingers out.

“What is it, cariño?” His voice purred. He brought his fingers to his lips, rolling his tongue over your sweetness.

“You,” your lip quivered as you shuddered from the cool apartment air. “Please.”

You knew this was a game he could normally play for a long time. Not today though, neither of you could handle it. Instead your heart raced as he nodded to the kitchen drawer where you kept the condoms since counter sex had become a more regular activity.

He brought his large, hard cock out of his boxers, stroking lightly. You swallowed at the sight wondering how you could ever take him.

He smirked at your expression “are you afraid?”

You shook your head, reaching your hands out to his broad shoulders trying to bring him closer. You fumbled with the condom, bringing your hands to his hot cock. He gasped lightly as your hands held him him, rolling the condom down over him.

He lined his tip against your entrance, soaking himself in your juices and teasing you just a little.

“Are you ready?” He whispered and for the first time tonight you heard his voice start to shake.

You bit your lip as you nodded “I am.”

He slowly slid himself in as you let out a moan of tight, firey pressure. The moment he was fully inside you both let out a gasp; you both waited so long for this moment. You wrapped your arms around him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck while you got used to the feeling of all of him inside.

He waited for you to nod and give him the okay to continue. He planted a kiss on your cheek as he pulled out slightly before thrusting in again. You spread your legs further apart, moaning at the next deeper thrust. You grasped at the muscles of his back for an anchor.

“Just like that, cariño,” He whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

He thrusted against, harder and faster as you felt your pleasure start to build. He kept a lovely, steady pace and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you reached your climax.

“Oh Miguel,” you moaned, making him shiver. “Baby, I’m close.”

You grasped at his back desperate to have more of him. His heavy breaths and grunts sent electricity through you while his cock pressed lovingly against that sweet spot.

“Don’t move,” his voice was a quiet whimper while you held him.

Fuck, hearing him whimper always sent you feral but you did your best to keep still while he pounded into your tight cunt. Your back arched as the waves of pleasure crashed down into a lovely orgasm.

“You feel so good,” he whispered in your ear.

You knew he was close and you wrapped your legs around him not letting him go.

“I’m, I’m-“ his voice broke off as you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

His arms held you tightly to him as you were wrapped around him lovingly. The heat of your bodies, the feeling of his heart beating and the rise and fall of his chest as he heavily breathed through the pleasure… Despite that soon he’d have to leave again these moments are what make it worth it.

"Te amo," his voice was a husky whisper as he held you.

For now, you got to enjoy the warm embrace of your spider.

===

💙💙💙💙

Thanks so much for reading, let me know if you enjoyed with any comments/reblogs, I appreciate them all!

-Wyv

#miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel x female!reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x female!reader smut #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x female!reader #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara imagine #fan fic #fan fics #fan fiction #fan fictions

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danikamariewrites · 4 months

Note

Hello, I saw you that you write for Fourth Wing, and I just finished reading the book and I'm am just in a need for more lol.

I was wondering if you wrote for Garrick or Bodhi. A scenario in which there are having a moment with their partner but they always end up getting interrupted by the group lol 😆 until they finally kind of explode maybe fluff/smutt.

And honestly this my first time ever putting in a request. Sorry and thank you( I never really interacted within tumblr but I'm trying)

Interruptions

Bodhi x reader

A/n: after reading Iron Flame I’m so in love with Bodhi like he’s such a cutie 🥰

Warnings: suggestive

Bodhi was going to lose his fucking mind. He knew running these weapons missions with his cousin and moving up in leadership would make his free time nonexistent but not like this. Especially his time with you. He hated that he was neglecting you. The fact that you’ve been nothing but supportive made him feel even more guilty.

To say thank you for your patience Bodhi had planned a romantic moonlight picnic. Unfortunately, plans had to change since it began down pouring an hour ago. You didn’t mind sitting on a blanket on his floor. As long as you get to spend time with your boyfriend you’re happy.

Dessert has been pushed aside in favor of Bodhi being on top of you shoving your tongues down each other’s throats. Just as he moved down to suck at your pulse point and unbutton your pants a loud knock had the two of you jumping apart. He let out a frustrated groan, reluctantly getting up to open the door.

You couldn’t hear what was being said but you knew it had to be important. Bodhi wasn’t putting up a fight. He just grimaced and nodded his head. Turning to face you he had an apologetic look on his face. You give him a tight lipped sympathetic smile. Standing you fix yourself and kiss his cheek. “It’s ok babe. We’ll pick this up next time.” He nodded back giving you a quick goodbye kiss.

Two weeks of constant interruptions happened after that night. Bodhi was fucking sick of seeing Xaden or Garrick’s face at his door while you were in his bed. It was just unfair.

And when he was free you were busy going into town with your friends. Bodhi finally snapped during afternoon training. He could see you sparring with Iliana over Garrick’s shoulder. Being able to flip someone like that should not be that hot.

You had Iliana pinned under your hips, your waist straddling her midsection. She tapped out and you swing off of her, holding a hand out to help her up. A groan made its way up Bodhi’s throat.

He couldn’t stand being away from you. Not having his hands on you was killing him. Garrick was taunting him but the words weren’t registering in his brain.

Bodhi quickly put Garrick in a headlock, kicking out the back of his knees. He wasn’t prepared for how quick Bodhi would act. Before he could go further Garrick tapped his arm three times, surrendering without injury.

Bodhi let go and quickly made his way over to you. Training was over and he knew you had nothing for the rest of the day. Now was his chance to sweep you into his arms and lock you in his room. He spots Xaden in his peripheral. Before his cousin could come up to him, Bodhi sent him a snarl without breaking his pace.

You were talking to one of your squad mates when Bodhi spun you by your hips, cupping your face and crashing his lips onto yours in a desperate kiss. You immediately melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands grip your ass pulling you flush to his front.

Breaking apart you smirk up at him. “Take me to your room right now.” You pant out. Bodhi pressed his lips back to yours mumbling, “With fucking pleasure.”

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfiction #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing rebecca yarros #bodhi durran #Bodhi durran fourth wing #Bodhi x reader #Bodhi x you

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tf-lover · 1 month

Note

I know I’ve already wished you a happy birthday but I can’t help the opportunity to do it here as well. Just wanted to make sure that you know I love you and that I feel proud to call you my boyfriend. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing and I’m sure anyone who’s spoken to you knows that just as well. I feel so lucky to know you and have you in my life and I’m grateful that we were somehow able to meet through the unlikeliness of Tumblr messages of all places hahah! You deserve the world and I hope I’m able to give it to you ❤️

That said I’m glad you’re enjoying my present so far. It wasn’t easy to get my hands on that nanotech body suit. Expensive thing but well worth the money with how easily customisable it is at any time. I know you’re probably gonna be spending the majority of your time as a massive black stud but I can’t wait to see what other bodies you try out with all the customisation as well!

Of course I had to save the best of all of these birthday asks for last. ❤️

I couldn't ask for a sweeter man to call mine. That day I was bored at work and reading stories then messaged you from my main accidentally was one of the best and most unlikely outcomes ever. I wouldn't change a second of anything that led you to being the most wonderful boyfriend I could have asked for. I love you Mr Wavell, I can't wait for the rest of our days together.

That being said, I'm sure you all saw this picture I posted with the original post getting you to send asks in. That, if you can believe it was how I woke up! Already in the suit and programmed to look like my favourite stud, my boyfriend definitely knows me well. It was wild to say the very least waking up and feeling genuinely different; I thought I was seeing things at first until I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

Of course then when he walked in and called me by this body's name I knew who was responsible. After all the roleplays we've done this was really taking it to a new level with him acting like he was totally unaware of me being anyone other than Ched.

Still, I've had plenty of other fun with the suit too!

Taken a ride through a load of my other favourite men's bodies and fucked or been fucked in all of them. Flipped my gender and spent an afternoon teasing him about being a straight guy whilst riding his cock and making him grope my tits. Became a copy of him too for a little bit just to play out the twin fantasy.

I've had all sorts of kinky fun to say the least, but at the end of the day we both know who I'm always coming back to.

Like you suggested I started playing around with the customisation settings this morning. How do we think dreads suit me? There's a few other surprises too, but you'll have to find those out for yourself. All the hint I'll give you is try sucking my nipples next time we're alone together and see what happens. 😜

Thank you again though for the new suit, and for everything else you do to make my life better with you in it. ❤️

#male transformation #racial transformation #my writing

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h0ney-mochi · 1 year

Note

okay so first off, your stories are so great?? LIKE SUB SCARA TOO. *tucks hair behind ear and blinks cutely* I love your blog sm?? diehard submissive genshin boys right here ✌️

But if you want smthn other than smut, thennn... how about a really touchy reader going away for a good month for some sort of work related occasion and how the genshin guys would feel about being away from the reader's touch for so long?

if you can, mind if you include Xiao, too? 🥺 any other guy is fine too

That's all, have a good one, you cool person on tumblr ✨️

So used to your touch, but you've got work!

Characters: Scaramouche, Xiao x reader (separate)

SFW CONTENT

Summary: they're so used to your touches — hugs, kisses, hand holding — all of it. How would they feel if you're gone to do work and it's been a month without your loving touch?

A/n: THANK U SMM FOR UR KIND WORDS AAHHH— I just think putting a brat mf into his place is nice *smile* Anyways, thank u for ur ask <33 This was nice to write :] I'm sorry if it sort of sucks aahh I haven't written anything sfw for so long lol- I wanted to put in another character, but I got a little busy

Xiao

Upon hearing that you'll be gone for a month, he allowed you to give him a long hug. Just so it could be burned into his memory for a while. Xiao's a busy man as well, needs to protect the citizens at dead of night. Yet he doesn't hesitate to come when you call him for a cuddle session. Spitting words of 'no respect for my work' as he doesn't let go of you while you play with his hair.

He's still busy when you're gone. But his mind is elsewhere when he fights. He knows you won't call for him since you're gone for work. Yet he hopes he'll hear you.

When he gets a little free time, Xiao goes to the room you were staying at while you were here. He remembers how whenever you called for him, you were always in the same spot, ready to give him your love! As much as he wants to say you're getting in the way of his work, you really aren't. You're a breath of fresh air and you're there to care for him.

Xiao wasn't the one for a lot of physical contact, but when you came along, he looks forward to it all the time. And now he's waiting for you to come back.

It's been a month. He's still fighting and checking in on your room. Sometimes he holds his own hands, even if it's embarrassing for him, just so he could remember how yours felt in his. How you peppered his face with kisses once you had finished cleaning up some wounds he got from some fights. Xiao knows you're busy. Is that how you feel when he's gone? Oh how he couldn't wait to go in your room and see the lights on.

Scaramouche

First few weeks he's relieved to be free of your constant intruding. Relieved, he says. In fact, he's getting more upset, worried? Scara wouldn't admit that he misses you. He misses you a lot

Yeah, you did inform him that you'll be gone for a month with a nervous smile and he had just shook his head, saying a simple okay. He didn't expect it to be so boring and lonely.

Whenever Scaramouche comes home, you're already running around the corner to greet him with kisses. When he's just making something in the kitchen, you appear, setting your head on his shoulder, hands around his waist. Or those random touches whenever he's just sitting on the couch, watching boring news while working.

Yeah, he missed it alright. That's why he spends more time at work, just so he wouldn't have to go to an empty house. At some point he's wondering if you just left him, not thinking of coming back. Just a few days and it'll be a month without you.

Even if it felt like more than a month. Scaramouche can only imagine your touch now. He's deep in his thoughts and waits for you to return. He just wants you back. See your stupid smile whenever he speaks about his dumb coworkers. He would never admit he misses you or your touch. He often sits in silence and wonders, will the door open and your cheery voice come through?

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #xiao x you #adeptus xiao x reader #xiao x reader #xiao fluff #xiao x reader fluff #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche fluff #☆°• ☆ writings

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violetsaffron5 · 8 months

Text

NSFW Gojo Week (1)

Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

Pairing: Gojo x f!Reader

A night off work leads you and your work crush to finally meet up for a steamy rendezvous

cw: exhibitionism, light degradation, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, facial

words: 1.7k

Masterlist • Day 2

Check out the links below for more info!

Tumblr - Link to all 2023 Gojo NSFW Week works!

Carrd - For guidelines/rules, AO3 Collection, etc.

Twitter - Give us a follow!

CuriousCat - For any questions you may have!

As a sorcerer, you don’t get many nights off, nights to do whatever you please without a care in the world.

Tonight is one of those nights. The lights of the small club you’re in flash green, red, purple, and blue all around you. Shoko wanted to use the opportunity to go out, have some fun, and relieve some stress, so she invited you, Utahime, and Satoru, and even got Nanami to come along.

It’s been busy for everyone the last several months. Fighting curses, and spending time healing; Shoko having a multitude of sorcerers to care for, along with surgeries.

The bass of the music vibrates from the soles of your feet through every hair follicle at the top of your head, sending a tingling sensation throughout your body as red, green, purple, and blue lights flash over your face, through the sea of people dancing.

You’re dancing with Satoru; he has one of his large hands splayed on your exposed stomach, just under your crop top while his other rests at your hip while you press your ass into him.

You might have a little, teeny, tiny work crush on him, and you’re pretty sure he has one on you too. He’s never been one to hide how he feels, but he’s also flirty with everyone, including Nanami, so it’s hard to really know.

Either that or he just really wants to fuck you.

Your hand is wrapped around his neck, nails scratching at his undercut as you move your hips together. And judging by the way Satoru’s dancing with you, the rumors must be true.

Of course, you’ve heard them, everyone has.

Gojo fucks so good, it’s actually insane.

I’ve never cum so many times in my life, and that tongue, oh my god.

He has the biggest dick I have ever seen… I should call him again, actually.

The two of you have had some… tense moments, to say the least. A few flirty grins here in there that have been met with your lips ghosting one another on several occasions.

But each time it has been met with an interruption. Someone walking into the room looking for one of you, or a phone call about an urgent mission. Each time it happens, it leaves you craving more, wondering when your lips will finally meet, and if it will it be as incredible as you’ve heard.

Satoru leans down, you can feel his warm breath tickling your neck and the shell of your ear. It sends a chill right down your spine, straight to your core. Tilting your head to the side, you’re met with his azure half-lidded gaze.

Your eyes flicker between his and his lips several times, and just as your lips ghost one another you can hear your name being called.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath to steady yourself before turning to see Shoko calling you over to take a few shots with her.

Satoru rolls his eyes as you groan in annoyance at once again being separated at the last moment. He removes his hands from your hips and stomach, stuffing them into his pocket, diligently following you back to the private booth you have for the night.

Shoko already has the shots ready, handing one to everyone who clinks their little glasses together before downing them. Satoru winces and you quickly grab another drink to use as a chaser, trying to rid the taste of alcohol on your tongue.

You take a seat next to Satoru who pulls you in closer to him by wrapping his arm around your shoulder, letting his thumb gently rub against your skin with light, featherlike touches that send a jolt straight to your core.

As everyone engrosses in conversation, you turn your head towards Satoru when he speaks, letting your nose run along the length of his jaw. Pressing your forehead into his cheek, you turn to see Shoko eyeing you with a raised eyebrow as your cheeks heat and you clear your throat.

“I’m, uh, gonna head to the bathroom really quick.”

The wetness between your thighs is absolutely unreal and becoming increasingly uncomfortable. You can feel Satoru’s gaze on you as you walk away and you turn back, biting your lip only to see his eyes trailing down to your ass slowly before coming back up, meeting you with a sultry grin.

Once inside the bathroom, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself of something that might not even happen tonight, or ever, if the universe has anything to say about it.

Standing at the mirror, you run your hands through your hair quickly just as the door opens. You expect to see Shoko walking through the door, but instead, you’re met with a tall head of ivory hair and crystalline eyes surrounded by soft snowy lashes.

“Fancy meeting you here,” You say playfully as he walks up behind you, tilting his head to stare at your ass as you lean forward just enough for your asscheeks to peek out from under your skirt, pretending to fix your lipstick in the mirror.

Satoru chuckles but doesn’t say anything as his hands find their way back to your hips, pulling you into him. Your breath hitches when you feel his hardened length under his slacks, encouraging you to grind into him slowly.

“What if someone walks in?”

“Let them.” He whispers in your ear, warm breath sending a chill down your spine as he flips the back of your skirt over your hips, kneading the plush skin of your ass with his large hands before sliding his fingers over your soaked panties and moving them to the side.

He groans when he runs his fingers through your already soaking folds, avoiding your clit, he doesn’t press in, he just teases until you’re whimpering, rutting your ass back into him further, begging for more.

“Satoru, please,” You whine, “If you don’t fuck me right now, I am going to die.”

He chuckles, continuing his teasing, “Guess you’ll just have to die, baby.”

You glare at him through the mirror where he watches as your furrowed brows slowly turn upwards, lips parting slightly when he lets his thumbs press gently to your clit.

“Can’t even wait for me to get you home?” You mewl as he continues his ministrations, “So fucking desperate for me.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he dips two fingers in and you’re already feeling more full and more pleasure than you’ve ever felt before. Leaning back, you rest your head against his shoulder, rocking your hips to the best of your ability, a coil forming in the lowest parts of your belly.

And then he just stops and pulls his fingers out to your dismay.

You glare at him like he’s just shot you, before he tangles his hand in your hair, tilting your head to a better angle, allowing him to kiss and nip down the sides of your neck - he could tell you hours doing your hair, and makeup to look nice tonight.

He’ll gladly ruin both.

Satoru pushes you back over the sink, quickly undoing his belt, letting his slacks fall past his knees with a clatter. When he releases his cock from the confines of his briefs, he taps the leaking tip on your ass a few times before positioning himself at your entrance.

You gasp, pressing your hands to the sink, pushing your ass further towards him. He watches you through the mirror giving a salacious smile and a wink before pushing in all the way to the hilt.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, adjusting to the sheer size of him. With a hand pressed to your stomach, you feel the way his cock bulges as he thrusts into you a few times.

“Look at me,” He commands. Your eyes flutter open, watching him through the mirror as he places one hand on the wall in front of him for support, and you hold onto the sink for dear life, knuckles aching at how hard you’re gripping the ceramic.

He keeps a hand on your hip to help keep you steady, nails digging into the skin as he moves his hand from the wall, tangling it into your hair once again, holding your head back, forcing you to watch as he relentlessly snaps his hips into you.

“You’re making such a mess, baby,” Satoru purrs, watching his slick-coated cock disappear into you with each thrust, watching as your arousal drips down your thigh and onto the tile below, “So fuckin’ tight.”

Leaning forward, he licks and bites down your neck leaving several scraps and marks - proof of your little bathroom rendezvous.

His eyes lock with yours when he feels your walls clamping around his cock like a noose.

“Yes, right there,” You moan as the coil in your lower stomach returns, threatening to snap at any moment.

He groans, unsure of how much longer he’s going to be able to last, “Wanna see you cum, baby. Give it to me. Bet you make the prettiest faces cumming on my cock.”

You’re chanting his name, all Satoru, and yes as the heat in your core erupts and you’re convulsing and spasming around his cock, squeezing him like you want to keep him there forever.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses, pulling out and dragging you down to your knees before you’ve realized what’s happening.

He strokes his cock several times and your eyes widen at the sight. Flushed tip so red and angry, but the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

You open your mouth, looking so pretty as you place your tongue on the tip of his cock, just as cums all over your tongue and lips, rubbing the tip of his sensitive cock over your tongue, pushing it further into your mouth.

“Swallow.” And you do, licking your lips to make sure you’ve gotten every last drop. Satoru adjusts himself back into his briefs, bending down and placing his lips on yours in a searing, fiery kiss that lets you know he’s nowhere close to being finished with you.

He can taste himself on your tongue but neither of you care.

“I’m gonna text Shoko, tell her I left.”

Satoru clears his throat as he helps you stand, placing an arm around your waist to hold you close, “Call Ijichi too. Tell him you’re taking an extended weekend vacation.”

#jjk fanfic #violetsaffronfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #nsfwgojoweek2023

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oneawkwardwriter · 21 days

Text

Make Belief

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader warnings/tags: fake dating trope, Steve saving reader from an idiot (Billy) confusing thoughts and feelings summary: Steve pretends to be your boyfriend to get you out of a nasty situation, but now you have to keep up the charade a/n: I wrote this before I was even on tumblr, thought I'd post it since I've been sucked back into my Steve Harrington obsession wc: 3.4k

It was a day like any other at Hawkins High. You stood in front of your locker, putting away some books you didn’t want to take home until you heard a cough coming from someone behind you.

As you turned around, you saw Billy Hargrove standing there with a smug look on his face. Billy was known to be a bully, and to be even associated with him made your stomach turn. He looked up and down while licking his lips, and you would give almost anything to slap that smirk off his face.

“What do you want, Hargrove?” You asked, wanting this to be over with as quick as possible.

“Come, come, not so hostile, sweetie. I just wanted to know what you were doing this evening,” He answered, talking down to you as if you were a child.

Before you could turn down his advances, a hand slithered around your waist and someone placed their head on your shoulder. You turned your head to see your best friend, Steve Harrington, looking at Billy with a hateful glare.

“Is he bothering you, darling?” He asked, posing as if he were your overprotective boyfriend, a kind gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh, don’t worry, I was just about to tell our friend here that I sadly am not free this evening,” You played along, giving him a loving smile that doubled as a silent thank you.

“No fucking way,” Billy began, “King Steve finally got Little Miss Perfect to go on a date with him. I wonder what made our lovely princess here fold.”

“Well, Billy, you might not know this,” You said back, “but Steve and I have been dating for quite some time now.”

“That’s right,” Steve continued, “Today is our two-month anniversary, isn’t that right, babe?”

“Sure is, darling.”

Billy leaned against the lockers on the other side of the hallway, before saying, “Well, well, well, isn’t that just great? Just out of curiosity, what are you planning on doing for this special occasion?”

“Oh, nothing special, just watching a movie at the theatre and whatnot,” Steve said, before walking away and gently pulling you with him, not looking back until you turned around the corner.

After doing so, he let go and looked you in the eyes with a big smile. As if it were contagious, you felt a smile creep up as well, and you hugged the boy as a sign of gratitude.

“Thank you, Steve. I don’t think Billy will bother me for some time now,” You said, smiling up at him.

“Well, if you’re ever in dying need of a fake boyfriend,” Steve began teasingly, “you know where to find me.”

“Same goes for you, of course, if you ever get tired of constantly being asked out by beautiful, brainless girls.” You turned on your heels and walked off.

“I’ll hold you onto that offer.” Steve called after you before he walked away towards the exit of the building. But all of a sudden, he was cornered by Billy, who didn’t look pleased about the fact that his next conquest was already taken by another guy.

“What a pleasure seeing you again, Billy,” Steve said in that sarcastic tone people knew all too well.

“I don’t believe for a second that you are dating, she’s far too precious for you,” Billy responded, staring him up and down.

“Pretty sure that’s not up you to decide," Steve deadpanned, "But anyway, what do you want?”

“I don’t like being lied to, Harrington. But if you two are serious about this, you won’t mind if Heather and I join you two, now do you?”

Steve thought for a moment. If he said that he did in fact mind, his cover, and more importantly, yours, would be blown.

On the other hand, if he answered that it wouldn’t be a problem, he would have to spend a night at the movie theatre with Billy. Sure, you’d be there, but who knew what could happen.

He took a deep breath, and gritted through his teeth, “Sure, why not, it’ll be fun.”

Billy smirked as if he’d won the lottery and let go of Steve. “Great, see ya at the movies, Harrington.” And then he walked off, leaving Steve in the hallway.

Steve got home not late after that, where he called you up, trying to find the words to tell her that they weren’t rid of Billy just yet. You picked up after the third ring, sounding just as cheery as ever.

“Hi, Steve, what’s up?” You asked, but before he could answer, you added, “Before I forget, I wanted to thank you again, I can’t imagine what I would’ve said to Billy if you didn’t come to rescue me, although I reckon it wouldn’t be filled with praising words.”

Steve chuckled, picturing you going off on Billy, ending with both of them walking away with at least a bruised lip.

“Yeah, about that, I ran into Billy on my way out, and… well, let’s just say we’re not completely done with him yet,” Steve said, running his hand through his curls as he leaned against the wall, his other hand still around the phone.

“There is something you’re not telling me, so spit it out before I tell Robin that you use Farah Fawcett's hairspray.”

“Alright, alright, there’s no need to be dramatic. Billy cornered me and said that if we were dating, we wouldn’t mind him and Heather joining us at the movies. I’m so sorry, but I had no choice but to say yes.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. He was right, it would’ve been suspicious if you didn’t go through with your plans, but that didn’t make the thought of having to sit through a two-hour movie with Billy any less unbearable.

“It’s okay, as much as I hate having to be in the same room as him, it is what it is," You sighed, "The least we can do is make it as pleasant as we can for both of us and try to forget about them as much as possible. We can manage that, right?”

“We’ll try our hardest,” Steve answered, a small smile creeping its way on his face. “I’ll pick you up at seven, alright?”

“Sounds perfect, until then.”

“Yeah, until then.”

There was a brief silence, both not knowing if there was something else to be said, so they hung up on each other, still not sure what they were getting themselves into this time.

Seven o'clock rolled around, and you came down the stairs in a blue button-up dress and black sneakers, a small clutch in hand.

Your mother sat on the sofa and saw her daughter from the corner of her eyes, making her head turn.

“Oh honey, you look lovely, what’s the occasion?” She asked, a smile you hadn’t seen in a while gracing her face.

“Steve and I are going to the movies, nothing out of the ordinary,” You answered, shooting your mom a quick smile.

“Except that you’re all dressed up, and is that make-up?” Your mom crossed her arms, not believing that it was just another movie night.

“Can’t I just look nice?” You asked, and just as your mom wanted to comment, a car horn honked, making you bid your mom goodbye and walk out the door.

Steve stood outside, leaning against his car wearing a buttoned-down white shirt and dark grey slacks, his usually wild hair slicked back, one strand having a will of its own and curling in front of his forehead.

“Sorry, my mom kept asking all sorts of idiotic questions,” You said as you walked down the front lane.

“No problem, I made sure to be here on time so we don’t need to hurry,” Steve reassured, a wide smile plastered over his face. “You look nice, by the way, it’s a good ‘two-month anniversary’ look.”

“Thank you," You said as you look him up and down. "You as well, good choice.”

Steve walked to the door of the passenger seat and opened it for you, jokingly bowing down and gesturing his hand for you to step into the vehicle. You shook your head, silently laughing at the gesture. Steve climbed into the car as well before driving towards the theatre.

Although you both dreaded seeing Billy again, having to keep up the facade of you being a couple was easier than you'd expected. Somehow, it was just the same as being best friends, only with longing stares, and even those turned out to have a familiar touch to them.

Sure, having Billy practically breathing down your neck wasn’t what either of you enjoyed, but the movie turned out pretty great, and with the Steve next to you, the burden of being in the same room as Billy was less heavy on your shoulders.

However, that moment of bliss and contentment was blown away as soon as the movie ended, and Billy started talking to the two of you again.

“Well, was the movie worth it for your two-month anniversary?” Billy faked his enthusiasm, still very much not convinced that you were telling the truth.

“Oh, absolutely, it was wonderful. Wasn’t it, honey?” You answered, trying to pull off your most genuine smile while standing so close to Steve you could be glued together.

“It truly was. Happy two-month anniversary, sweetheart,” Steve added.

But upon seeing the look of scepticism on Billy’s face, a sudden thought emerged in his brain. Before either of you could comprehend what was happening, Steve planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

A seemingly harmless action, one that wouldn’t be an issue for someone who was on a date with the person they had spent the last two months infatuated by, but to the two of you, who hadn’t been anything but friends for the majority of their lives, this single act brought forth a plethora of emotions and feelings, ones of which they weren’t sure if they should be acknowledged or even be there to begin with.

Against your best efforts, blood rushed into your cheeks, colouring them a bright scarlet. You tried to play it off as a part of your scheme, but there was a fine line between make belief and developing true affection, and the longer youthought about it, the more that line turned into a blur.

Whatever it was, it threw off Billy for a hot second. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t as stupid as some would make him out to be. He knew that it was just a ruse to get him to stop asking you out and going to the movies with them was just a way of getting under your skin.

Still, seeing your reaction to Steve's kiss, albeit not lasting longer than a moment or two, was something different than what he had seen before between the two of you. But he soon returned to his senses again and to his usual self.

“Well, it’s getting late. How about we go home, Heather?” He asked his date, who was more than willing to oblige. “I guess this is where we say goodbye. Have a fun anniversary, but not too much fun.” He winked before walking off with Heather on his arm, and when he was out of earshot, both of you let out a deep breath.

“That was probably one of the worst yet most enjoyable dates I’ve ever been on,” Steve admitted, shaking his head in disbelief at the irony.

“Too bad it wasn’t a real date then, huh?” You said rather absent-mindedly, not realising the words that came out before they were already spoken.

Once you did, you didn’t know if they were true. Had it been a date, or was it all a ruse to get Billy off your back? And when Steve had kissed you, albeit such a simple gesture, you had blushed like a school girl whose crush just talked to her; it had almost driven you over the edge, had you not controlled yourself.

Steve rested his hand on the nape of his neck and tilted his head a bit to the left, before saying, “Yeah, you’re right, that would’ve been one hell of a date if it were real… anyway, I should probably drive you home, it’s already dark outside.”

The car ride was silent until Steve saw an all too familiar car in his rearview mirror.

“Shit, Billy’s following us,” He said, not louder than a whisper as if he was afraid that Billy could hear that you'd seen him.

“Okay, it’s not a big deal, just drop me off at my house and all is well,” You suggested, not sure why Steve made it out to be worse than it was.

“And let him know we aren’t as serious as we claimed to be? No, that’s not going to happen, he won’t win.” There was a strange air about him, one you hadn't seen much of before.

“Steve, I don’t know what you’re on about, what on Earth will he gain if you just drop me off at home?”

“The satisfaction that we lied, the knowledge that if he were to push just long enough, he’ll convince you to go on a date with him," There was a hint of something you couldn't entirely place. It couldn't be jealousy, right? "Don’t you see, he wants this solely because he can’t have the one thing I pride myself on?”

“And what might that be?” You asked, not sure what he was talking about.

“A relationship, of any kind, with you. He’s jealous, that you’ll be around me despite my shortcomings, but won’t do the same for him.”

You sighed, and responded, “Somehow, I don’t know how or why, but that, sort of, makes sense. Well then, what do you propose?”

“Just trust me, okay?” He looked into your eyes, a silent plead to just follow along, until you said: “Look at the road, you idiot. And yes, of course, I’ll trust you, unless you have a really stupid plan.”

“Well, it’s something, I can tell you that.”

You pulled up at Steve’s house, still being tailed by Billy, who was about 500 metres behind them to come off as casual. You got out of the car and into the house, where you flopped down onto the sofa.

Through the curtains, you could see the headlights of Billy’s car. But instead of just passing by, the lights went off, suggesting the car had stopped. You and Steve exchanged a look of confusion, although both of you knew why he hadn’t just driven by the house as if it were a mere coincidence.

“Well, that's gonna be a problem,” You commented, crossing your arms. “So what do we do now? I don’t think he’s going away any time soon, it’s not like he has a life to return to.”

Just as you were about to propose you’d call off the whole plan and just confront Billy -surely you could handle him- Steve jumped up and dragged you onto your feet.

“That’s it, of course!” He exclaimed, holding both of your hands as new smile scattered across his lips.

“What is it?” You asked, genuinely confused as to what Steve was talking about.

“Billy might not have a life, but we do, so why would we care about him when we can just go about our merry way and do whatever we want?” Steve explained, his eyes lighting up with every word.

“And with that showing him that he is the least of our concerns,” You continued, starting to get a sense of his idea. “You know, you can be really smart. Sometimes, that is.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, things just sometimes fall right into place up there,” He responded, faintly pointing to his head.

You made your way upstairs, towards Steve’s bedroom, where he opened the window and climbed through it to land on the garage's roof.

It was a sort of tradition you had set in stone over the years, where whenever the situation seemed grim, you'd sit on the roof, whether that was on top of Steve’s garage or your bike shed, and simply look up to gaze at the stars.

No matter the circumstances, you had always found some peace and serenity in the stars gracing the midnight skies, looking down on the world lightyears away. Over the last couple of years, when hell seemed to break loose more than ever, it became their metaphorical fortress of solitude, where there were no troubles or problems, but just the cold air on their faces as they would sit in the dim light of the moon.

And so you wound up on the roof once again, with your backs against the cold brick wall as you admired the stars and felt your worries slip away into a moment of time.

You averted your eyes from the sky and looked at Steve, who must’ve read your mind as he had already done the same, softly smiling at your.

“You know, you were right,” You started, “Who cares about what Billy thinks we are; we are the ones who decide what is and what isn’t true when it comes to our lives.”

“Yeah, but we also shouldn’t be living in a lie,” Steve mumbled, shifting his gaze to his hands.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You say that it is up to us to decide what is real and with isn’t, but at the same time we’re trying to convince a douchebag that we are something everyone knows we’re not.” Steve slowly looked up, with a glimmer of a feeling previously unknown to you. “Sounds a bit hypocritical, if you ask me.”

“Are you insinuating that we’d rather lie than confront our true intentions?” You remarked, looking Steve in the eyes, “Because if that’s the case, I’ll be perfectly honest with you. The truth is, I found it surprisingly easy to pose as your girlfriend, to act as if I was in love with you. And that scared me, a lot.”

Steve’s eyes dilated slightly upon hearing those words, but you weren't done talking yet.

“You’re my best friend, and even though I’d support you without hesitation, I always told myself that I would never end up catching myself falling for you. I would not be one of those girls you’d date for a short time and then be tossed aside." You let your head hang for a moment and sigh. "What I’m trying to say is, is that I was so occupied trying not to fall that I didn’t realise that I had already hit the ground.”

At this point, Steve’s eyes were as big as saucers and his mouth was slightly agape, making you regret opening up him. You had already stood up to walk over to the open window when a hand held onto yours, entangling their fingers.

It all happened too fast to wrap his mind around. From the second you had opened up to where Steve quite forcibly turned you around to look into your eyes, staring into them so intensely, as if not even the end of the world would be able to separate you.

The rest of the world turned into a blur, a haze surrounding you, as if a simple action enforced a shield, preventing any troubles from the outside from breaking you apart.

Eventually, after what felt like a blissful eternity but in reality, couldn’t have been longer than thirty seconds, your lips parted, leaving you standing on the roof, being able to feel each other’s breath with how close you stood together, staring into each other’s eyes with your mouths agape, trying to fathom the reality of what had just happened.

Incoherent thoughts were running through your heads, not able to process a single thing other than knowing that there was undoubtedly no way back from this. And how terrifying that might sound, neither of you could care less.

Steve was the first one to speak up, although it was more like a whisper. “I’m not sure if that was the right thing to do, but god, it felt too right to be wrong,” He breathed, causing you to agree with a soft affirming hum and rest your head on his chest, feeling his heart beating as if it were about to explode.

After standing like that for at least a few minutes, you moved back inside, never taking your eyes off each other. As soon as you hit the bedroom floor, your lips found their way back to the other.

Whereas the first kiss was a tender one, the one that followed held enough power to light up an entire city. You were soon pressed up against the wall, your hands traveling from Steve’s shoulders towards his hair, threading your fingers through his curls, melting into the kiss.

His hands roamed your body, as he fought against his lustful impulses. Had it been any other girl, he admitted that he wouldn’t have given it a second thought and let his intentions take over, but you were different; you were better, far beyond anyone else and deserving of nothing less than utter perfection. For that reason, he reluctantly pulled away, leaving a ghost of your lips on his.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” He muttered, trying to catch his breath as he still stood mere inches away from you. He looked up at you and saw the baffled look on your face, making him regret his poor choice of words. “No, that wasn’t- that wasn’t what I meant… Look, I’m just gonna… start over, you know… rewind.” Steve took a deep breath. “What I meant to say, was that I want to do this the proper way. So that means you walking down the stairs in a cute dress, and me picking you up at seven to take you on a date… a real one, this time.”

You smiled- no, laughed, you flat out chuckled. When Steve looked confused, you told him, “Sorry, I just realised something hilarious.”

“What? Please, enlighten me,” He questioned with a soft smile.

“This entire time we’ve been trying to convince people that we were together.” Steve still looked at her with questioning eyes. “Guess we're not playing make belief anymore, are we?”

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#writeblr #writing prompts #divider by saradika #x reader fics #oneawkwardwriter fics #fanfic writing #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #friends to lovers #fake dating #stranger things fic #stranger things

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