#lime washed houses | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shebunie · 5 months

Note

Can you do Mizu x British fem reader? So what happens is that mizu and reader got together (romantically) when they were back at London but whens mizu done with her quest she's goes back to Japan but with the reader. Reader and mizu goes to see everyone/friends that they know and their shocked (or you can choose depending on the person/character) that Mizu brought the reader also Mizu is very protective of reader and you continue off that if you want! Also can you do some lime to? 🤭

𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝗠𝗶𝘇𝘂 𝘅 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘀𝗵!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝗧𝗮𝗶𝗴𝗲𝗻. 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝗶𝘁, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟮.𝟳𝗸 𝐀/𝐍: 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵𝘆, 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝗻𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘁. 𝗥𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝗯𝗼𝘆 𝘀𝗼 𝗰𝘂𝘁𝗲

"Spring is nearly at its bloom," Mizu remarked, her voice carrying a hint of nostalgia as both of you strolled through the bustling streets of Kyoto. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, casting a delicate pink hue over the city.

"The beauty of Kyoto in spring is truly something special," The sword wielder continued, her fingers lightly tracing the petals of cherry blossom as you passed by. "Each year, it feels like a renewal, a fresh start."

“You’ve always told me stories about its beauty but witnessing it in person, truly you did not give this sight justice with your words.” you teased the swordswoman, The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of the blossoms, and the distant sound of a shakuhachi flute added a melodic touch to the atmosphere.

Mizu giggled, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and affection. "Perhaps, some things are better experienced than described." She glanced at you, her hand finding yours as she led you through the vibrant streets.

As you continued your leisurely walk through the streets, the blue-eyed warrior’s thoughts seemed to drift momentarily, a subtle melancholy shadow passing across her face. The journey she had embarked on, seeking vengeance for the discrimination she had to endure, had been long and arduous. But now, with the vendetta behind her, a new chapter awaited.

"There's a place I want to take you," she said mysteriously, her eyes regaining their usual determination. As you continued your stroll, the two of you reached the outskirts of Kyoto, heading towards Kohama. Mizu's steps became more deliberate, a mixture of anticipation and a tinge of hesitation in her demeanour.

Sandals shifted on the dirt path, eyes as vibrant as the morning sky after early morning passed and looked down to that small little house. A sense of warmth, comfort, and familiarity washed through her as both of you slowly walked down the steep hill, Mizu gently lending a hand for your safety. Eventually, you arrived at the cabin, Mizu exhaled deeply as she approached the home with her hand tightly wrapped around the strings of her hat.

“I’m sure they’d be delighted to see you back alive, Mizu” you assured her, fingers tracing along the lines of her calloused hand. She nodded, a mixture of gratitude and apprehension in her gaze. The memories of this place were both tender and bittersweet.

She need not have to practice her words. Swordfather consistently extended a warm welcome, contrary to the doubts that lingered in the recesses of her mind. Nevertheless, she couldn't shake off a peculiar sense of obligation to Ringo.

The door to the cabin opened hastily, revealing a tall yet chubby man, head wrapped with white fabric their eyes widened in surprise and then quickly filled with joy as they saw Mizu standing there.

“Mizu!” The large man, who unexpectedly embraced her and hoisted her off the ground, exclaimed with joy, "You're back! A-And alive!" Ringo squeezed Mizu so tightly that the pain from her healing bones and wounds shot through her, though she was relieved not to feel indebted to him anymore. She grunted in response.

“If… you don't put me down, n- neither of us will be," she warned, gritting her teeth. Ringo chuckled heartily, finally setting Mizu down but kept his stubs on her shoulders, as if making sure she was real and not just a figment of his imagination. Mizu couldn't help but grin at his exuberance, appreciating the genuine warmth that emanated from him.

Ringo’s eyes wandered to the figure beside his master, there you stood, with a soft smile on your painted lips, eyes emitting a gentle glimmer. “You brought a girl! - A pretty girl.”

You chuckled at Ringo's enthusiastic remark, recognizing the jovial tone in his voice. Mizu shot him a playful glare, but he seemed oblivious, still beaming with joy at Mizu's return, as her hand found its way to the side of your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It seems Mizu didn’t lie about your cheerful attitude, you’re too harsh for calling him annoying.” you voiced.

Ringo's expression shifted from joy to curiosity as he shook your hand vigorously. "Well, Mizu has never been one to bring just anyone around. You must be special," he declared, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Mizu rolled her eyes, used to Ringo's playful banter.

"Special or not, just don't let him talk your ear off with his stories. You'll be begging for silence within minutes," Mizu teased, earning a mock offended gasp from Ringo.

"Hey now, my stories are legendary! People travel far and wide just to hear them," Ringo defended himself, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. Mizu and you exchanged amused glances.

"Legendary for their length, maybe," Mizu retorted, earning a laugh from Ringo. As the three of you walked together, Ringo couldn't help but throw in another comment. "So, Mizu, spill the details! Where have you two been? Any epic battles? Dramatic rescues?" he asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Mizu sighed, but there was a fondness in her eyes. "We've had our fair share of adventures, but not every tale is meant to be shared, Ringo. Some things are better left unsaid."

Ringo nodded solemnly, then grinned. "Of course, a samurai never reveals its secrets.” You chuckled, realizing that Ringo's friendly personality added a lively touch to the atmosphere. Sounds of something thudding against the ground interrupted the reunion, as your gaze settled on an old man.

“Swordfather.” Mizu greeted with a sudden stiffness.

Swordfather looked at her his brows furrowed and his lips thinned. He hummed as he simply stared for a few tense moments. Mizu blinked softly, she nodded and he exhaled deeply. “This house is getting too crowded…” He muttered in slight annoyance and Mizu couldn’t help the relief she felt as she smiled at him.

You observed the interaction, noting the subtle dynamics between Mizu and Swordfather. Despite his initial gruff demeanour, there was an undeniable connection between them, an unspoken understanding.

Bowing respectfully, acknowledging Swordfather's presence despite his blindness. His acute hearing allowed him to perceive your gesture, and he responded with a nod in your direction. "A new face, what brings you here?" he inquired, his voice calm but carrying a certain weight that hinted at his years of experience.

Despite being blind, his movements were sure and deliberate. He relied on the sounds around him, the rustling of leaves, the distant hum of the village, and the footsteps of those around him.

You introduced yourself, explaining the circumstances that led you to Mizu during her travels in London. Swordfather listened intently, his head tilting slightly as if to better focus on the sound of your voice. "Hmmm," he mused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "In these troubled times, it is not uncommon for destinies to intertwine. Mizu has a habit of attracting interesting companions."

Ringo laughed, "You have no idea, Swordfather. Our friend here is not only interesting but quite skilled, too."

Swordfather's blind eyes seemed to fixate on you, or perhaps it was a mere coincidence. "Skills are valuable, but character is what truly matters. Mizu has a keen sense for both." His words carried a weight that hinted at years of wisdom and experience.

As you approached the entrance of the house, the aroma of incense and the soft murmur of the wind chimes welcomed you. Swordfather navigated the familiar surroundings with ease, relying on the sounds and textures to guide him. Mizu led him to his usual spot, a serene corner where he could listen to the world around him.

Once seated, Swordfather leaned back, exhaling slowly. "Mizu, my ears tell me you've brought more than just stories back with you. There is something else in the air, a shift in the wind."

Mizu hesitated for a moment, exchanging a knowing glance with you, as if silently communicating something that went beyond words. She smiled, a subtle yet genuine expression that betrayed the unspoken connection between you two.

"Yes, Swordfather," she replied, her voice carrying a warmth that echoed her feelings. "I've encountered more than just tales during my travels. Fate has intertwined our paths in unexpected ways." She gestured toward you, introducing you in a manner that went beyond a mere recounting of events.

Swordfather's sightless gaze seemed to linger in your direction, as if trying to perceive something beyond the physical. "The dance of destinies," he murmured, "A connection that goes beyond the surface. Tell me, what is it that draws you to Mizu? In the realm of the heart, there are melodies that even the blind can hear."

There was a moment of vulnerability, a shared recognition of the emotions that had blossomed during your journey together. You took a breath, choosing your words carefully.

"Swordfather, in Mizu, I've found a kindred spirit," you began, your voice steady. "Our journey has been more than just an adventure. It's been a discovery of shared dreams, a dance of two souls finding harmony. There's a connection that transcends the ordinary, a bond that defies explanation."

Swordfather listened intently, his expression unchanged but a subtle nod indicating his understanding.

"In this life, sometimes the heart knows paths the mind cannot fathom," Swordfather spoke, his words resonating with a deep understanding. "Cherish this connection. For in the echoes of your hearts, you may find the strength to face the challenges ahead."

As the conversation shifted, the atmosphere in the room carried a new depth, a sense of shared understanding that went beyond the spoken word.

Just as the poignant moment settled, the shoji doors slid open with a sudden force. The ambient peace shattered as Taigen, stood in the doorway. His eyes scanned the room until they locked onto Mizu, who had been standing quietly beside you.

"Mizu!" Taigen exclaimed, his voice cutting through the hushed atmosphere. "We have unfinished business, you and I. A duel was promised, and I've come to collect."

"You again?"

Taigen's eyes narrowed, his focus unwavering on Mizu. "Forgive me, Swordfather. But a promise demands satisfaction. Mizu, do not deny me what is rightfully mine."

Mizu stepped forward, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. "I have not forgotten, Taigen. But do you have to be such a pain in the ass?” Taigen scoffed, unsheathing his blade with a sharp metallic ring.

Taigen smirked, his eyes glinting with a mixture of determination and amusement. "A promise is a promise, and I intend to keep it. Are you ready to face the consequences of your words?"

You could feel the tension in the room rising, the air thick with anticipation. Mizu's lips curled into a sly grin. "Consequences? You make it sound like I'm about to face the wrath of the gods. It's just a friendly duel, isn't it?" Taigen chuckled, a low, throaty sound that echoed in the room.

"Perhaps you've forgotten the sting of defeat. I'm here to remind you."

As the two wielders squared off, you couldn't help but sense the undercurrent of rivalry that went beyond the boundaries of a simple duel. Mizu and Taigen circled each other like predators in a dance, their blades gleaming in the soft light filtering through the shoji doors.

Unbeknownst to you, Mizu's usually composed demeanour was cracking under the pressure of Taigen's persistent comments, about you. Her eyes darted between him and you, an unreadable emotion flickering in their depths. It was then that Taigen, with a mischievous glint in his eye, decided to turn the tables.

"Ah," he said with a smirk, "I can't help but wonder if your heart is in this duel or if it's distracted by other matters." He shot a quick glance in your direction, his eyes locking onto yours for a moment too long. Mizu's face betrayed a hint of annoyance, her jaw clenched.

"Focus on the duel, Taigen. I have no time for your theatrics."

But Taigen was relentless. As the clash of steel filled the room, he continued his banter. "I gotta admit, I didn't expect to find such captivating company here. Maybe there's more to this journey than meets the eye."

You could see Mizu's grip on her sword tighten, a flash of irritation crossing her features. It seemed Taigen's words were getting under her skin. The duel became not only a test of skill but also a battleground for unspoken emotions.

Finally, with a swift move, Mizu disarmed Taigen and held her sword at his throat. The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the heavy breaths of the combatants.

"Poor technique, easily learned," Mizu declared, her gaze cold. "Easily defeated."

As Mizu withdrew, she shot you a glance that carried a mix of frustration and something else— that lingered in the air. As Taigen retreated, she turned her attention back to you. The tension in the room lingered, thick like the scent of cherry blossoms on a cool breeze. The air crackled with unspoken words, and you could almost taste the lingering traces of the duel's emotional undertones.

As the shoji doors slid open, revealing the tranquil garden outside, Mizu stepped into the moonlit night. You followed suit, the night embraced them like a cloak, shadows dancing on their faces as they exchanged a few terse words.

"You're always so serious, Mizu," You teased, tone light as your hand reached to grasp her shoulder, tracing light patterns.

She turned to face you, her gaze softening under the moonlight. "I have to be serious. The world is not always forgiving." A hint of vulnerability peeked through the facade she usually wore. The tension from the duel seemed to linger, but now it was a different kind of tension—an electric charge that pulsed between you.

"Maybe," you said, stepping into the small distance between you, fingers gently tracing the line of her jaw, "but there's more to life than just battles and strife. Sometimes, it's about the moments we allow ourselves to savour."

The garden around you seemed to hold its breath, the only sound being the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets. Mizu's gaze dropped for a moment before rising again, a hint of something more profound in her eyes.

"Sometimes, though, I wonder if there's room for a different kind of seriousness in my life," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

The air became charged with an unexpected intimacy, and you found yourself drawn closer to Mizu. The scent of cherry blossoms intensified, wrapping around both of you like a delicate perfume. The moon illuminated her features, casting a soft glow that accentuated the vulnerability she rarely revealed.

"Perhaps there is," you murmured, your fingers gently tracing a strand of her hair. The tension in the air shifted from the remnants of the duel to an unspoken connection, an energy that pulsed between you.

Mizu's gaze locked onto yours, and in that moment, the world outside the garden seemed to fade away. The boundaries between, and the night became a canvas for something more profound. Without another word, she leaned in, and the touch of her lips against yours carried the weight of a thousand unspoken feelings.

Your lips, soft and familiar, sent a surge of warmth through her entire being. With every passing second, her breath grew more strained, muscles tensing in anticipation of your touch. Yielding to the magnetic pull between you, you allowed yourself to sink deeper into her embrace, the world outside fading away.

As her hands flattened against your spine, an electric current seemed to dance along her skin. Your hand, like a gentle breeze, found the curve of Mizu's neck, fingers starting a sensuous dance, caressing the delicate contours beneath. With each tender touch, a sigh of pleasure escaped her lips, intermingling with the shared breath of the moment.

Kissing her back, your lips traced a path of desire, leaving an indelible mark on the canvas of passion. The sensation of your fingers on her neck sent shivers down her spine, and a subtle smile played upon her lips, a silent acknowledgement of the intimate connection forged in that tender embrace.

A momentary pause lingered as the kiss continued, a shared symphony of desire. As you pulled away slightly, her gaze, infused with a delicate lightness, met yours. The air between you crackled with the unspoken, silent language of longing. Her breath, a soft melody, hung in the air, a testament to the lingering sensuality that bound you together.

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wavesmp3 · 6 months

Text

8000 layers of inyun

jeonghan x reader, joshua x reader - inspired by the movie past lives - wc: 6k - warnings: mentions of alcohol, like one curse i think - a/n: reader should be completely inclusive, i.e. not adhering to the background of the main character in the movie.

[first hello]

when you met joshua for the first time, it was in the grassy backyard of a house in long island one mile away from the beach. at a rickety, white table with spots of black showing up beneath the layers of paint. it was three glasses of red wine in, two hours after you had laid eyes on him, and one hour after everyone else had headed inside for sleep.

when you met joshua for the first time, you had told him about inyun. how even brushing by someone’s shoulder on the street or locking eyes with a stranger on the metro meant there was something there between the two of you in a past life. he looked amazed at the notion. you thought he looked quite pretty. “that would mean we had something together in a past life, wouldn’t it?” he had asked. and even then, you could tell–he’s such a writer. there was a story already rising from the dark corners of his mind. you had just nodded. and told him about all the layers between two lovers, and about the 8000 it takes to take one’s hand and whole-heartedly decide you want to marry them.

you don’t really remember joshua’s cheeks turning pink at the line. what you do remember is the sky changing colors. you remember how golden he looked under the string lights. you remember leaning into his face, almost falling forward, bracing yourself with a hand on his knee.

you remember kissing him for the first time.

*****

[jeonghans coming]

joshua is already cooking dinner by the time you come home. you stop in front of the gray door, noticing for the first time in a while the scratch in the top corner from the massive yellow armchair you stuffed through the door even when it refused to fit through. you smile at the scratch, stretch your arm out to finger over the light brown mark. how long ago was that now? was that before or after you got married? you inhale. the air smells like wet concrete and basil. joshua forgot to turn on the exhaust fan, didn’t he?

you don’t remind him to do so once you finally find your keys. instead you slip off your old, faded sneakers, drop your keys on the counter in the lime green dish you made in a pottery class two years ago, and greet him in the kitchen, kissing the side of his chin and reaching over his head to turn the exhaust fan on. he kisses your forehead as an apology, or at least he tries but you’ve already moved and his lips end up catching on the corner of your left eye. you wash the day and the grime off you, washing away the train and the throbbing in your feet. you meet him again for dinner, at the table you call your dining table and your home office. he brings over two plates of the pasta. you bring the wine.

“you know jeonghan.” it doesn’t hit you then that that’s the first thing you’ve said to him since you left that morning.

joshua squints. his eyes, his eyes, his eyes. they were the first thing you noticed about him. the first thing you fell in love with. “yeah. your childhood sweetheart.” this he says with a teasing smile. you smile back. his smile was the second thing you fell in love with.

“he, uh, emailed me earlier today.” you shift in your stool. “he moved out of his parents’ house, i think, and is between jobs. he said he’s going to be visiting new york soon.”

there’s a stillness in the air, then. a shock beneath the table that’s curling around your calves and inching up your arms.

joshua, though, despite how well you know him, despite your knack to see through every emotion he feigns, still tries to nod it off. “oh. when is he coming?”

“in two weeks. “

“that’s soon.”

“i know.”

“are you going to see him?” there’s no mask of emotion here. everything in joshua’s mind and heart you can read in his eyes, except that reading doesn’t mean understanding and five years of marriage doesn’t mean you know someone’s every thought. you don’t know what to say. you don’t know what he wants. you don’t even know what you want. all you know is jeonghan’s email. you spent two hours staring at it this afternoon. jeonghan, as you knew him, was a straightforward guy. he explicitly said in the email what he wants: to spend a day or two with you while he’s here, as much time as you can spare, show him the city you moved to when you turned 21. show him the country you moved to when you were 13. but beneath the straightforward request feels like a million subliminal ones. like he wants you to prove to him that you’ve made a life worth living here. like he wants to gallivant around new york telling you about a country that used to be home and asking you what would have happened if you didn’t go all those years ago.

but jeonghan isn’t like you and joshua, he doesn’t make reading into subtext and writing a 100 pages about it his job. so you tell joshua what you decided on the train ride back.

“yeah, i think i will.” and with the way your stomach twists, it feels like a confession.

*****

[first goodbye]

your first goodbye with jeonghan is when you’re young. it happens on the last day of school for you before your family’s big move to the states. even though you only found out a couple weeks ago, you knew this move was a long time coming. maybe that’s why you didn’t say anything when your parents told you it was happening. maybe that’s why you just went to your room and started packing.

jeonghan’s been in the same class as you your whole life. his whole life too. and for your entire lives you’ve been making the same walk back home from school together. today is no different. and yet, isn’t it? it’s the same roads, yes, the same stairs and the same shops on the way. but the air is different, it smells like home. it smells like you already miss it. and you haven’t even left yet.

the walk is almost entirely silent.

the roads diverge towards the end, into a smaller path that leads to your home and the main road that jeonghan takes to get to his. you take one step into the path and stop. jeonghan stops too. he stares. you stare back.

(you don’t realize it then, but it’s the last time you’ll see him in person for almost 20 years. one of the last times you’ll even speak to him in around 7. it’s the last time you’ll ever stand on this street, and one of the last times you’ll breathe this air. most importantly, it’s the last time you’ll ever be this young.)

your first goodbye with jeonghan isn’t much of a goodbye. it’s him asking when you leave. it’s you saying sometime tomorrow. it’s him frowning, patting your shoulder, and saying, “be well, and don’t cry over maths anymore.”

*****

[second hello]

you round the corner by the candy shop and walk inwards to the park. you used to live around here. but god, where haven’t you lived? you used to come into this park and watch people. the man towards the south entrance that always sat on the middle bench. the tourists walking up and down and around looking amazed and bored and helpless. tompkins square park used to be your favorite park in new york, but walking into it now, you can’t really remember why you liked it so much. you wonder why he chose this park specifically to meet in. did you mention it once on a skype call? does he think you still like it? or has he figured that you’ve already fallen out of love?

you see the back of his head before you see him. and for a moment you get an instantaneous rush of every feeling there is to feel from seeing him again, here, in a park you thought you loved. but it’s not the park and it’s not the city that makes your entire body go numb. it’s seeing him. jeonghan. jeonghan. jeonghan. it’s seeing him for the first time in–you don’t even want to admit to yourself how long.

but the instantaneous rush ends, and your body and blood come back to earth and back to this park you hate, when he turns around and faces you facing him.

and there are no words to be said.

there used to be oceans and countries and cultures and decades standing between you and him, but somehow now, all of that has compressed into four squares of broken concrete. you were never very good at maths. jeonghan, the one who comforted you whenever you cried over it, knows that best. but even you know that there is no way 20 years can turn into 20 feet. so much has changed. more than could possibly be encompassed in any greeting. it’s indescribable and overwhelming. it’s you and him and the whole world. there are no words to be said.

so you hug him instead.

*****

[ferry]

it takes almost a full hour for the pure shock of seeing each other again to wear off. there’s so much joy and excitement between the two of you that for a couple minutes all you do is say ‘wow’, throwing the word back and forth like two kids playing catch.

the first thing on your itinerary was already decided by jeonghan over email: seeing the statue of liberty. so, you and him board the ferry together, asking how his family’s doing and telling him about yours.

“your husband,” jeonghan starts, turning slightly towards you in his seat on the ferry.

“joshua.”

he nods, mouthing his name silently. “how did you guys meet?”

“we met at this writer's retreat thing. we were kind of… i don’t know–together–i guess, while we were there, and funnily enough, it was only on our second to last day there that we realized we both live in new york. and then, it was only when we got back that we started dating.”

jeonghan’s lips make a small ‘o’. “he’s a writer too?”

you nod. then smile.

“is he good?” this he asks with a hint of mischief.

you scoff. “you think i’d marry someone who isn’t any good?”

he just shrugs and smirks. an action you’ve seen him do a million times before. when you were a kid, it pissed you off. when you were 21, it made your heart flutter. now, it makes you feel like a stranger. it reminds you that all he is is somebody you used to know.

“what?” he laughs, covering his mouth embarrassedly. you didn’t even realize you were staring.

“you’ve just been a kid in my head for so long.” you shake your head, a smile haunting your lips. “it’s so weird seeing you all grown up.”

he hums. “i feel that too.”

“are you and-” you leave the space blank there. social media had told you a lot, but you don’t remember it ever telling you a name, “still together.”

he grimaces. you wish you didn’t ask. “no. we broke up some time ago.”

jeonghan doesn’t say anything more about it, but honestly, it’d be more shocking if he did. even as a kid, he took things at face value, not going any deeper into contexts and double meanings. he isn’t too shy to ask what you mean, nor is he too shy to say it. that’s just who he is.

“do you have pictures from your wedding?” jeonghan asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. you fetch your phone out of your pocket and show him your favorite picture from the event. you and joshua didn’t really have much money at the time of your wedding. it was a small, courthouse wedding with a dinner afterwards with just your families. the picture comes from when you were walking out of the courthouse together. with the small bouquet, joshua had purchased that morning, and the simple white dress you had thrifted a couple weeks prior. you were so happy, walking out of that building hand in hand. you were so hopeful.

“you look very nice.” jeonghan tells you quietly, staring at the photo. you mutter a ‘thanks’. he then surprises you, bringing a hand up to the picture and wordlessly zooming in on your face. his gaze bounces between you and your picture. finally, looking up, he says, “you look so young.”

*****

the ferry stops for a bit near the statue, everyone rushes towards the corner nearest to the monument to take a photo. you offer to take his. he accepts, awkwardly smiling at first, fidgeting with the strap of his backpack, but then eventually, lightening up, posing cutely and requesting different angles.

while the ferry heads back to manhattan, he carefully examines all the photos you took. it reminds you of when he told you about his photographer friend in college who took photos of him for fun.

“why didn’t you want to keep talking then?” you ask abruptly.

somehow, he knows exactly what you’re talking about. your second goodbye with him. the four minute skype call.

he looks taken aback. he doesn’t look at you. “it didn’t really feel like you were giving me much of a choice.”

it’s not what you wanted to hear, but you don’t really think there’s anything he could’ve said to mend a ten year old wound born from a petty 21 year old desperate to love and be loved.

“i held that over you for a long time. i was a bit mad.”

he responds immediately. “you said goodbye so quickly. i was a bit mad too.”

you frown. “should i be sorry?”

he half laughs at that, shrugging and finally looking at you. “we were kids.”

and of course, that was all that really needed to be said.

*****

[second goodbye]

your second goodbye with jeonghan happened when you just moved to new york. it was a short period of time marked by running between 10th and 14th to catch your train and eating too many meals at the ukrainian place in the basement of 7th.

the two of you had found each other again online. a friend request turned to messaging turned to skype calls every evening and sometimes even in the morning. and somehow, someway, despite the years between your last words with him, the two of you were able to pick up right where you left off. he told you about home and about all the classmates you hadn’t thought about since you left. you told him about america, about your new life, and about new york. but mainly you talked about how weird it was to see and talk to him again and about how alone you felt here.

the goodbye comes when your laptop crashes and it takes a week before you’re able to talk to him again. it comes after you spend the week devastated, crying in the middle of the street over a dropped bacon egg and cheese. it comes when your laptop is finally fixed, when you call him again, and when he doesn’t even seem worried.

“do you plan on coming to new york?” it's the first thing you say when he answers the call, two days after your laptop was fixed.

he looks like he just woke up, hair crumpled and bent in places it shouldn’t be. between a yawn he says, “what?”

“i can’t leave new york right now. so if you don’t plan on coming here, there’s no point of this anymore.”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, looking off to the side of his camera. you stare into it. you had been practicing this conversation all day. you knew what you were going to say. and in your heart, you knew what he was going to say too.

all he ends up doing is smiling awkwardly and patting down the back of his head. “do you want me to visit?”

no, you think with a sigh, you just want more.

“i think we should end this. i need to focus on becoming a writer, and you-“

you falter here. he what?

he nods. you nod too, just as an excuse.

“okay.”

and the call ends in 4 minutes.

*****

[first confession]

the bar you’ve chosen to take him to tonight, is a small, irish pub on the corner of a street you spent half your 20s in. you feel so much older than you are, when you get off the subway, point to an old red brick building, and tell jeonghan that you used to go to school here.

his gaze lingers at that building. you try not to notice, but you do.

“remember inyun?” he says after you get your drinks. his martini, your beer.

you laugh at him. “it’s actually how i got joshua.” a memory flashes in front of you: the golden glow of the string lights and joshua’s lips on yours for the first time. you can’t tell if it's the beer or the memory that makes your entire body flush with warmth.

“that game we used to play as kids,” jeonghan says, excited, “we should do that here.”

you smile. how many days did you and jeonghan spend sitting next to each other on the train and making up a past life for every two passengers?

“okay.” you point to the two girls sitting at the bar, one of them on their phone, the other resting her head atop the counter. “what about them?”

jeonghan turns to face them. “classmates.”

you make a noise of disapprovement. “sisters.”

he mimics the noise. “no way.”

“look.” you say, gesturing to the way the girl that was on her phone places her free hand on top of the other’s head. “it’s just so…” here you lose the words for it. the girl on her phone bends down and places the smallest kiss on her friend’s head.

“familiar.” jeonghan finishes. and when your gaze falls back to him, you find that he’s already looking at you. the game somehow feels different than it did when you were kids.

jeonghan inhales sharply and nods his head towards a boy and a girl playing billiards in the corner. “what about them?”

you take a moment to observe them. these two seem less familiar with each other. there’s a lot of extra laughing, a lot of awkward pauses between turns. “coworkers.” you finally say.

“strangers.” jeonghan counters. “like she took his order at a food place that he left a bad review for.”

you give him a look. he shrugs.

the game continues. you do the two bartenders which you both agree must have been lovers. you do the group of boys, in business casual sitting two tables over. jeonghan says they were all dogs in the same shelter. you say they were in a band together.

the game continues until the only two people in the pub who you haven’t made up a past life for are you and jeonghan.

jeonghan gives you a half smile. “what do you think we were in a past life?”

this was always how you and him ended the game. you wonder how many past lives the two of you have created for each other by now.

you think for a moment, eyes flicking between the bartenders who were lovers and the friends who were once family. “two people squished next to each other on the train.”

jeonghan laughs at that one, knocking his head back and accidentally kicking your leg under the table. he shakes his head. “a bird and the branch it sits on.”

“a keychain and the ring it’s attached to.”

“a celebrity and their bodyguard.”

“enemies.”

“friends.”

something snags on your throat at that.

you laugh, not meaning for it to sound as forced as it does. “but we’re that now.”

a silent question hangs in the air: are we?

“why’d you come to new york?” you ask him. you already said your goodbye to him. years ago, on a skype call that felt akin to a breakup. seeing him and facing him again was not something you had expected to ever have to do. and the thing is, it’s not just facing him. it’s facing your past, and it’s facing all the different ways he’s known you.

jeonghan doesn’t seem surprised that you asked, but his eyes do this…thing as he looks up from the glass. this fearless, shameless thing that makes you feel things you wish you didn’t feel. “i came to see you.”

you don’t take your eyes off his. what is it they say about eyes again? windows to the soul?

“but you and joshua.”

you flinch.

“you guys have those layers of inyun.”

“all 8000,” you whisper back to him, like the world might burst if you spoke any louder.

he nods solemnly, hopefully. “maybe you guys have even more.”

he looks at the bar. the warm light paints him in colors you’ve never seen him in before. he’s so much older than you remember. he’s so much more real than your last skype call.

(your memory of this moment fails you. you can’t remember which one of you it was that asked)

“how many layers do we have?”

a number hangs off the tip of your tongue. but the world will burst if you say it outloud. so you don’t. for the world, for yourself, for joshua.

*****

[you were right]

“you were right,” you tell joshua when you come home that night.

“about what?” he meets you in the kitchen, exhaust fan whirring in the background.

“he came to see me.”

and even just the admission of it, of the entire day you spent with jeonghan, has you exhausted.

you hug joshua. he sets the book that was in his hand down on the counter and lets you. he feels so warm next to your heart. he feels so at home. and you, in your apartment, in his arms, feel split in two.

carefully, you ask him: “are you mad at me?”

“of course not.”

“do you want me to cancel tomorrow?”

“you haven’t seen him in forever. you should go.”

you exhale into his shoulder.

“i mean, it’s not like you’re going to run away with him or anything, right?” he jokes.

“please,” you scoff, “you know me.”

“i know you.” he laughs, and you feel it throughout your entire body.

“i know you.” he repeats.

you hug him tighter.

“you’re it for me.” joshua tells you quietly. “you make my life so much bigger.”

you can’t tell if it’s the confession or the exhaustion or both that brings you close to tears. “what if something happens?”

he doesn’t ask what you mean; he just repeats himself. “it’s only you.”

*****

[not touching but almost]

you meet jeonghan the next morning at the hoyt-schermorhorn street station. he asks how you slept. you say well.

you stand in front of the sliding doors, holding onto the pole. he follows suit, his hand right under yours. staring at his face, you search for which features of his have stayed the same and which have changed.

“your eyes.” you say at the same moment the train screeches. he leans forward, mostly to hear you better but also to stay upright as the train sways. his fingers inch towards yours. “your eyes are still the same.”

he looks embarrassed for a moment. then smiles. you do too.

the train stops. the signs outside read: ‘fulton st’.

you look back at him. “i can’t stop smiling.” fuck the train, you’ll repeat it until he hears what you have to say.

he doesn’t ask you to repeat yourself this time. he just laughs. “why?”

you shrug, smiling again, and feeling entirely, wholly like a kid. “just ‘cause.”

his fingers inch towards yours again. you don’t even think he means for it to. you look down at your hands. close but not touching. not touching but almost.

the train stops again. ‘chambers st,’ it reads this time. you both get off.

*****

[a whole part of you i’ll never know]

there’s this memory that bounces around your head from time to time. it was before you and joshua had gotten married, in your old apartment, the one in hell’s kitchen above the thai place with the light up dragon that played pop music late into the night.

so with an old miley cyrus song floating up through the air and in through the open window, joshua tells you that there’s a whole part of you he’ll never know.

you don’t deny it at first. you turn in bed to face him, cup his cheek in your hand and flinch at the stubble growing in. you kiss him and tell him, “you know me better than anyone.”

“but i-” he hesitates here, mouth opening and closing like he can’t decide what kind of conversation he wants this to be. “it’s like there’s this whole portion of your brain that will always be out of reach. like i can see it there in the distance, but i can’t get to it.”

“just ask. i’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“it’s not that.”

“what is it then?”

“he knows that part.”

the song goes quiet. you can hear a drunk person vomiting. you can hear your heart beating. breathlessly, you say, “jeonghan?”

and joshua, joshua, joshua. he looks like he regrets it. “you, just, you always talk about how you reinvented yourself when you moved to new york and how different you used to be. but what if that wasn’t the first time?”

you shake your head. “i’m not a kid anymore.”

“i know.” and against all odds, joshua smiles. “sometimes, i just wish i knew you when you were.”

*****

[second confession]

the day, in all honesty, is some of the most fun you’ve had in a long while. you and jeonghan get dumplings and rice noodles in chinatown and eat them in columbus park while watching people play ping pong. he wants to go shopping in soho and so you take him to your favorite spots. you wait with him in line at the famous bakery on lafayette only for him to hate the pastry he got. and in the evening, you and jeonghan meet up with joshua to get dinner near your apartment.

“so how do you like new york,” joshua asks while walking to the restaurant.

jeonghan nods slowly. “not bad.”

your husband’s eyes widen. he was born and raised in new york. it’s the only place he’s ever known. “not bad?”

jeonghan shrugs. “it’s a little smelly.”

joshua just chuckles at that. “you get used to it. what have you seen so far?”

“yesterday i saw the rockefeller center, times square, and central park. and then,” jeonghan looks at you, “we met in tompkins square park, and we took the ferry to see the statue of liberty.”

“you know i’ve never actually been to the statue of liberty.” joshua confesses, lightheartedly.

“really?” jeonghan asks dumbfounded.

“really?” you mutter to the ground.

joshua shoves his hands in his pockets and nods.

jeonghan looks at you, disappointed, and jokingly says, “what are you doing? you should take your husband to see it.”

jeonghan doesn’t really wait for a response, but you still give him a half-hearted laugh before putting a hand on joshua’s elbow, and quietly, almost shamefully asking, “have we really not gone?”

the conversation has moved on without you it seems. while laughing at something else jeonghan’s said, joshua shakes his head ‘no’.

the rest of the dinner goes well. the food is good, and the conversation flows. joshua heads back home once it’s over to get work done, and you and jeonghan go to your favorite bar in the area, a posh sort of place with dim lighting and fancy cocktails. the two of you grab seats at the bar.

“what’d you think of joshua?”

jeonghan looks happy, a smile gracing his face for a moment. he tilts his head, and you almost miss the way his smile turns down. “i didn’t think liking your husband would hurt this much.” (almost). “i can tell he really loves you.”

“i love him too.” you say, just to fill the space. but what you really want is to beg him to take it back. beg him to say something else. anything else. say he hated him instead.

“yesterday, you asked me why i didn’t try to keep talking back then.” jeonghan continues. “the truth i learned here is that it wouldn’t have mattered how hard i tried even if i did. you were always going to leave because you’re you. and i liked you because you’re you. and who you are is someone who leaves.”

you start to refute, but stop yourself because… he’s right. the last two times you parted ways with him, it was because of you. you started the goodbye. you were the one who left.

“but for joshua,” jeonghan says, eyes scanning across the bar, staring at every bartender and every customer before finally, finally, landing on you, “you’re someone who stays.”

and it turns you inside out.

“i’m sorry if i hurt you in the past, jeonghan.”

jeonghan doesn’t falter. he never has. “i’m not.”

*****

[last confession, last goodbye, last hello]

you walk jeonghan to the uber from your apartment. the address has always been a little finicky; the uber will only stop two blocks down. the long ones. not that that matters much. nonetheless, you and jeonghan walk it slowly, pausing for a couple seconds each time the wheels of his suitcase get caught on a cellar door.

“thank you for emailing me.” you tell him, lifting your chin up slightly. “i’m really glad that you did and we got to do this.

he nods. “i’m glad i did too, but i was actually a little unsure about it.”

this surprises you. the sentiment yes, but also the way he says it. tucking his hair behind his ear, and squinting his eyes at a stop light, refusing to meet yours. jeonghan is the surest person you’ve ever known.

something catches in the back of your throat. something foul and hopeful. something that makes you feel young. “why?’

he shrugs, looks up at the second deli you’ve passed and mouths the name of it. like he’s practicing it, memorizing the name, the location, the guy sitting out front, and the cat that always lingers in the back. why does he care so much about the little things?

“i didn’t know if you’d want to see me again.” he finally says. “the last time we spoke was so long ago. i wasn’t sure if you had left me in the past for good.”

you hit the end of the second block where the uber will be picking him up soon, right under the ice pop shop that you always walk a little slower by on the hottest summer afternoons. across the block the walking signal is red–a memory comes back to you: your first summer in this new apartment, your first month being married too. you standing on this side of the block and joshua standing at the other. waiting for the cars to pass, waiting to greet each other in the middle of the road. you can feel that day in the bottom of your stomach. you remember exactly what joshua's hand felt like in yours.

“i think i did.” you tell him. “but i don’t regret doing this with you. it was like meeting you again, and meeting the version of myself that last saw you too.”

you turn away from the signal and look at him. he looks sad almost. “sometimes i still think of you as that kid i used to walk home from school with.”

you remember what you used to tell joshua: how you reinvented yourself when you moved to new york. you remember what he used to say back: what if that wasn’t the first time. and so, you reach into your past and try to remember who you used to be before you moved to america.

“i haven’t been that kid for a long time now,” you frown, watching jeonghan’s pupils dart back and forth between yours, “but they still existed. they were still real.”

the uber pulls up. jeonghan puts his suitcase in the trunk and opens the door to step inside. and with one foot in the car to the airport and one foot planted on the street you call home, he says, “what if this is just another past life and we’re already something else in another?”

the only thing you can manage to give him in response is a nod. you don’t like to think about what if.

he smiles. and you feel something break apart in your heart.

“i’ll see you then.”

in another life, jeonghan is more than just a series of goodbyes. but in this one, he gets in the uber, and you don’t imagine seeing him again. you don’t think you will. because for the first time in this life, you're not the one that left–he was.

you make it halfway back down the two blocks back to your apartment when you see joshua. it just so happens to be in front of the deli jeonghan had committed to memory silently beside you. you inhale deeply; it feels like the first breath you’ve taken since jeonghan landed in new york. joshua is 8 stoops away from you.

at 5 you think about when you met, the writers retreat in long island, the most beautiful serene place you swear you’ve ever been and the stupid pick up line you said about inyun.

at 4, you think about his eyes, his eyes, his eyes, and the line he wrote about them in an essay that was published 3 years ago saying that they're the only part of the nervous system that's exposed, a direct line to someone's head and heart. was he right? did you look into jeonghan’s mind tonight? have you been staring at joshua's heart?

at 3, you think about all this talk about past lives. and you think what if it’s not about your past lives with jeonghan or with joshua? what if it’s about all the past lives within you?

at 2, you think about the kid you left in a country that doesn’t feel like yours anymore.

and at 1, you think about jeonghan.

he stops right in front of you. staring at you staring at him. your whole world feels bigger than it ever has before, and your heart, in response, splits in half to fit him inside. you feel that something in your throat rise and boil.

“i’m sorry,” you finally say, before falling into his arms. the sob that’s been waiting in the bottom of your soul for the past 20 years comes bursting out of your throat. you cry into your husband's shoulder. you feel the weight of all your past lives and all your future ones like they aren't in the past or in the future, like they're now beside you begging you to imagine what could’ve been and what was.

joshua holds the back of your head. he doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t need to. it’s all been said before. instead he kisses the corner of your eye and takes you home. ****************************

a/n: absolutely adored this film and it simply has not left my mind since i watched it over a month ago. and so, i did what i do best and wrote a fic based on it lol. i hope i scraped even half of the complexity the movie has. if you've seen the movie, i'd love to hear your thoughts about it or your thoughts on this piece. as well as if you haven't seen the movie! but if you haven't seen the movie, i highly recommend you give it a watch. it's such a quiet, gentle film that will crawl into your heart and claim it as home.

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formlines · 5 months

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The Homemaker

Shoshannah Greene

from the website "I really enjoy spending my down time watching home styling content online. So many people extend their personal styles into their homes, from mid century modern, Japandi, Eclectic, boho, to minimalism.

I pictured Beaver, an animal who is known to build intricate housing, settling into her room with newly painted Lime washed walls. The box is painted in washes with a combination of Burnt Sienna and Raw Umber. The design has her wrapped around the box, her paws nestled in by her face. On the back, the beaver’s tail has her human form smiling at her finished product."

-Shoshannah Greene

This piece is part of Lattimer Gallery's 2023 annual Charity Bentwood Boxes auction running from November 25th to December 9th. All proceeds will be donated to the Urban Native Youth Association.

#Shoshannah Greene #Haida #Lattimer Gallery

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miasmaclockworks · 2 months

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Inhale (killk me)

kinito pet au ideas (all mine now)

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#kinitopet #kinito my beloved #kinito pet au #kinito pet #kinito #etc #kinito au #please don't steal #im watching you fools #yer fools

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cherrycola27 · 3 months

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false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and full smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Chapter 17: Something Just Like This

Space. A place in this world to call your own. It's something you had always wanted—something you craved.

For a while, you had that here in your apartment with Hydra and Cerberus, and now Bradley. And you had loved the space you shared with them. Until she came along and contaminated it. Your home, the place that was supposed to be your safe space, had been desecrated.

Maybe that's why, when you woke up in the wee hours of the morning on Tuesday, with Bradley still fast asleep, you found yourself scrolling through real estate sights looking at houses. You hadn't lived in an actual house on earth, ever.

The thought of having one never crossed your mind. Buying a house meant staying somewhere. It was a physical representation of permanence. Something you never had before.

But now, with Bradley, your husband, you wanted a place for the two of you. A place to raise your future family because you were done running. You'd found your place in this world.

You scrolled and scrolled until you found the perfect house. It was a four bedroom colonial. Two stories, fenced in backyard, and a large front porch. It had a pool, which you weren't thrilled about, but you knew Bradley would love.

It was in a quiet neighborhood in Coronado. The house had hardwood floors throughout, and the listing said it had been newly remodeled, which was evident in the pictures.

The outside had beautiful landscaping, which complimented the lime-washed brick of the exterior. The only drawback was the price. For most, it would deter them, but for you, who'd spent over a thousand years saving and investing on earth, it was a drop in the bucket.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you filled in your information to set up a meeting to tour the house at ten in the morning. You didn't want to tell Bradley because it's not something the two of you had talked about, but it felt so right.

So, in the morning, you told him you had some errands to run and a surprise for him when you returned.

When you came back home around two that afternoon, you were giddy with excitement. "Love, pack a bag." You announced to Bradley as you came through the door.

"For?" He asked you with a raised eyebrow.

"For Virginia Beach. I figured we might as well take advantage of this time off that we have. I know you've been wanting to go home for a bit, and I'd love to see where you grew up. So, I made a few calls, worked out a few things, and I booked us two first class tickets. Our flight leaves at five. You announce proudly as you go to your bedroom and pull out some suitcases and start packing.

"Woah, babe, slow down. What about Hyrda and Cerberus?" Bradley asks as you toss clothes at him.

"Penny agreed to pet sit for us." You tell him.

"Well, what about a place to stay? I normally stay with my aunt, but I can't just spring this on her." Bradley asks you concerned.

"Bradley, it wounds me that you don't have faith in me." You mock him as you turn around to face him for the first time. "I got us a hotel. Everything is taken care of. Now start packing!" You scold him as you return to your suitcase.

Bradley exhales, knowing that it's fruitless to argue with you. So, he relents and starts packing alongside you.

An hour and a half later, the two of you are being dropped off at the airport. You decided to Uber rather than leave either of your vehicles there.

The moment you get your bags out, a young man greets both of you. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw. I can take your things for you, and then you can follow me to the lounge."

Bradley looks a little surprised but hands your luggage over. The two of you follow the steward to the first class lounge and take a seat before getting a drink.

Bradley looks around as he settles into the plush chair with a glass of expensive scotch. "This is something else." He remarks. "Have you never flown first class?" You ask him.

"Never. When I fly commercial, I always try to upgrade to business because I'm too big to fit comfortably in economy." He shrugs his shoulders and continues to look around.

"You know, I sometimes forget that you're like, wealthy from being around so long. But then you buy me fancy watches and first-class plane tickets and I remember." Bradley chuckles.

"Bradley, Love." You lean forward in your chair. "I'm not wealthy. We are wealthy. You're my husband. For better or worse, what's mine is yours." You remind him.

"If you say so—still—it's a lot to take in." He sighs as he checks the time on his aforementioned expensive watch that you bought him.

A little while later, the two of you are on the plane tucked into your first class suite with all the bells and whistles, complete with lie-flat seats and a door.

Bradley is engrossed in finding out what all the buttons do when a flight attendant comes by with two glasses of champagne as you wait for take off.

"We didn't order these." Bradley says, but you pat his shoulder and chuckle. "They are complimentary. Perks of first class." You smile at him before grabbing the glasses and toasting. Minutes later, a dinner menu appears, and Bradley marvels at all of the choices, unable to decide.

You lean back in your chair and watch him over the rim of your glass. He's like a kid in a candy store. It warms your heart that you are able to give him all of this. You thought maybe completing your quest for worthiness was your purpose in life, but looking at your husband, you realize loving him is your true purpose.

The roughly six hour flight goes smoothly. After dinner, your suite is converted to a bed so you and Bradley can get some sleep. However, the two of you decide that joining the mile-high club was a better idea. You came with Bradley's hand firmly covering your mouth and his chest pressed against your back with him whispering absolutely filthy praises in your ear about how you were such a good girl for him.

By the time the two of you made it to your hotel late that evening, you were both thoroughly exhausted. You took a quick shower together before curling up to get some much needed sleep before meeting his family tomorrow.

....................

You woke up the next day extremely nervous.

Today, you would meet Carole's sister, Bradley's Aunt Marsha, her husband Tom, and their three children.

While the two of you were getting dressed, Bradley could sense that you were worried. The entire drive there in your rental car, he assured you that they would love you, and everything would be fine.

You felt nauseous as he pulled into their driveway. His aunt and uncle had a lovely home, and Bradley told you that they were great people, but this was all new to you.

You held his hand tightly as you climbed the couple of steps that led to the front door. Bradley rang the doorbell, and the two of you patiently waited for someone to answer. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze just before the door opened, and a lovely middle-aged woman with short blonde hair opened the door.

"Oh my goodness! Bradley! What are you doing here?!" The woman, who you knew had to be his aunt because she looked just like Carole, exclaimed as she pulled him in for a hug before cupping his face. She hadn't noticed you yet.

"Hey, Aunt Marsha! I had a few days off, so I thought I would fly out here and surprise you. I also wanted to introduce you to someone." Bradley said as you pulled you closer to him. "Y/N, this is my Aunt Marsha. Aunt Marsha, this is Y/N, my wife." Bradley smiled.

Bradley's aunt stood there silently for a moment before a wide grin spread across her face. You turned her head over her shoulder and called into her home. "Tom, Conner, Alyssa, Maddie, meet me in the living room. Bradley is here, and he brought his wife!"

Marsha ushers the two of you inside and directs you to her living room, where you sit down on the sofa.

"Marsha, what are you going on about?" And older gentleman, whom you assume is her husband, comes into room holding a cup of coffee before stopping in his tracks when he spies you and Bradley sitting on couch. You aren't sure what to do, so you shyly wave at him. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say anything, Bradley's cousin burst into the room. "Mom, what do you mean Bradley brought his—" a tall boy who has blonde curls similar to Bradley's stops short when he sees the two of you. "—Wife." He finishes in a choked tone. The two girls stand there silently, each mirroring their father's shocked expression with wide eyes and mouthed slightly agape.

Marsha stands up and scolds her husband and children. "Don't just stand there, introduce yourselves!"

All at once, the four of them move toward you. You and Bradley both stand up, and you shake hands with his Uncle Tom and his cousins Conner, Alyssa, and Maddie. You a sit back down, and there is an awkward silence in the room.

"Well, Y/N, tell us about yourself, honey." Bradley's aunt breaks the silence as she brings in cups of coffee for all of you. You take the mug and take a deep breath.

"Well, I'm a pilot like Bradley is, I'm originally from North Carolina. I'm thrity-one. I'm Greek. I have a dog and a cat, my rank is Commander, I graduated from the Naval Academy, and my parents passed away when I was nineteen. Oh, and my call sign is Hades." You say, telling them what you'd practiced on the drive over here.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry to hear about your folks." Marsha says. "It's fine, Mrs. Edwards." You shrug your shoulders. Bradley's aunt shakes her head.

"Mrs. Edwards is my mother in law. I'm Marsha or Aunt Marsha, whichever you prefer. We are family now." She smiles at you coming to sit by you on the couch and resting her hands over yours.

"Aren't you just the most beautiful woman. If there's one thing those Bradshaw boys can do, it's pick a beautiful wife. My goodness Bradley, she is gorgeous." Marsha compliments you. "Thank you." You smile back at her. "And she went to the Academy and is a Commander. That means she outrank you, doesn't it?" Marsha asks him.

"She sure does." Bradley chuckles. "Beautiful and smart. No wonder you couldn't stop talking about her when you came out to Maddie's graduation!" Marsha laughs, and Bradley blushes. You turn to him a quirk an eyebrow.

"Oh, honey, you should have heard him. He wouldn't stop talking about you!" Aunt Marsha says. "So, tell me the story, how did you two meet and all that jazz?" She asks you.

"Bradley was assigned to be my wingman, and we became friends and found out by accident that we were neighbors. We kind of danced around the fact that we liked each other for a while until Bradley asked me out on a date on my birthday. We went out the next day. Dinner and the boardwalk amusement park. He won me a stuffed shark!" You cheer as you tell them.

"Then Bradley got hurt, and I convinced him to move in with me, and last week, he proposed, and we eloped on the beach." You say, leaving out some of the more supernatural details before showing her your ring.

"This was your mother's ring, wasn't it?" Marsha asks with a few tears in her eyes. "Yes, yes, it was." Bradley says to her.

"She and Nick would have loved you." Marsha smiles at you. "You know, I never met two people who were more perfect for each other than my sister and Goose. You know he proposed after four dates. I guess when you know you know. I know Carole never loved anyone else after him. I hope they found each other in the afterlife and are happy together." Marsha sighs.

"They are." You sigh, and she looks at you confused. "I mean—I'm sure they are. Bradley has told me so much about them." You recover quickly. Marsha sighs before getting up to take your coffee cups. You offer to help her and follow her dutifully into the kitchen. You set the mugs down on the counter and turn to ask Marsha if she'd like help washing them.

But as you turn, your elbow catches the handle of one, and it crashes to the floor, shattering into a million pieces. "Oh no! I'm so sorry! Let me clean it up!" You drop to your knees to grab the broken fragments of ceramic. A sharp piece catches your index finger and you wince, drawing back at the pain.

You bring your finger up to examine yourself and notice the fresh, crimson blood leaking out of the cut. Your eyes go wide with shock. This isn't supposed to happen.

"Are you okay, dear? Here, let me get the broom." Marsha says as she scoops you to your feet and sweeps up the mess. "I'm so sorry." You say to her again.

"Oh, honey, don't you worry. There's a hundred more where that came from. Do you need a bandage? Come over to the sink and grab a stool, I'll clean you up." She says.

"I'm fine." You assure her as you wash the blood from your hands.

Hours later, you and Bradley's family, well, your family now, are gathered around the dining room tabled eating. The cut and dropped mug from earlier long forgotten.

The atmosphere is warm and welcoming and it's nice to sit down and have a family dinner where everyone wants you around.

It's nice to have a real family.

That night, when the two of you leave, Marsha and Tom insist that they have enough room for the two of you to sleep over, but Bradley tells them you already have a hotel room. His aunt makes you promise to come over again before you leave so she can show you some photo albums of Bradley through the years. When you return the next day, you spend hours flipping through them with her. Bradley blushes every time Marsha shows you one that he deems embarrassing, but you love every minute of it.

The two of you spend the next few days exploring. The day before you're set to leave, Bradley takes you to the graveyard where his parents are buried.

As you drive into the cemetery in your rented car, you hold tight to Bradley's hand. Afraid of what might happen if you don't.

He drives up a hill and stops at the top, pulling the car over to the shoulder and shutting off the engine. You both unbuckle, but you reach for his arm before exiting. "Bradley, wait," you say, catching him by the elbow.

"What's wrong, Angel?" He asks you with a soft expression. "I just—I just need to do something before we go out there. C'mere." You say to him as you pull him closer.

You lean over the console of the rental car and thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of Bradley's neck before pressing your foreheads together. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths hoping that your idea works.

You break apart and look down, and a smile graces your features as you see what you were hoping to see.

"What was that about?" Bradley questions you. "I was seeing if we were tethered." You tell him. He cocks an eyebrow, still unsure.

"Graveyards and one of the places that I can easily travel back to the Underworld. When I'm in my true goddess form, I can see the portals inside them. But when I'm in my mortal form, I can't. If I would accidentally pass through one, I don't know if I would be strong enough to make it back. But if I'm tethered to you, I have something connecting me here to the mortal world. It keeps me safe." You explain to him.

"How do you know we are tethered?" Bradley asks. "Look at your ring. You should be able to see it." Bradley looks down, and there's a gold string running between the two of you. "Holy shit." He breathes out. "How—how is that possible? How can I see this?"

"Because you're the King of the Underworld. And as much as I never thought they existed, Bradley, you're my soulmate. Only soulmates can be tethered. It's how they find each other in the afterlife." You explain to him.

"But, but I thought you said we couldn't be soulmates. That our marriage could never be real?" Bradley shakes his head.

"Ancient laws are tricky. But I think you made it real, Bradley." You say as the pieces fall into place in your mind. "How?" He retorts.

"Because you made me an alter the first time we made love. You said you would worship at my hips, worship me. You made me an alter, and so when we got married—"

"We married at an alter of the Gods, an alter for you." He finishes. "Exactly." You smile. "So what does that mean, Angel?" Bradley presses further. "It means they can't take you from me. Gods can't tear apart soulmates. Looks like you're stuck with me." You chuckle.

Bradley smiles and kisses you before stepping out of the vehicle and coming to open your door. You slip your hand in his as the two of you walk to the headstone that marks his parent's resting place.

The two of you walk up, and Bradley introduces you as if they were actually standing in front of you. He starts talking about you to them, and you can't fight the tears that slip down your cheek at his one-sided conversation.

It's moving to watch him talk about your love and your marriage to his parents. He does it in such an enthusiastic manner that it makes your heart swell. Bradley wraps an arm around you and pulls you close after a few minutes and the two of you bask in the silence.

"I've met them." You say after a few long minutes. "What?" Bradley whispers as he looks down at you.

"I've met them. In the Underworld. The day your mother passed. I was in the Underworld trying to figure out a way to stay. She walked into Paradise asking about "her Goose." I thought she was talking about a pet until she explained that Goose was he husband's call sign. I got to see them reunite. It was— beautiful." You say to him.

"So they really are together. You meant it when you said that at Aunt Marsha's house?" Bradley tears up.

"They are together and happy and still in love. I'm sure you've heard this before, but you really do look so much like your father." You say as you cup his cheek. Your thumb brushes away some of his tears.

"I'm sorry I never told you before." You apologize. "It's okay. I understand why you didn't." Bradley says as he places his hand over yours. "I'm also sorry that I can't take you there to see them. If I was stronger—if I had my full powers—I could." You sigh, angry at yourself.

"It's okay, Angel. I know you could if you would." He whispers before kissing your forehead and pulling you in for a hug. The two of you stand there for a moment before you ask Bradley the question that's been on your mind. "Bradley, where do you want to be buried?"

He pulls back and thinks for a moment. "I never really thought about it. I always figured I'd either burn in, and there wouldn't be anything left of me or that I'd die alone and get boxed up and put in some military graveyard. But I think— I think I'd like to be buried here, with my parents. I'd like to have this view forever." He says as the two of you watch the hues of red and orange paint the evening sky.

"I think I can make sure that happens. Right here is going to be the perfect spot to spend eternity with you." You say. Bradley shakes his head. He doesn't say it, but he knows that he's going to die before you. But you've already promised him that you won't let him go without you. He just hopes you're both old and have lived a full life with that happens.

The two of you say goodbye to Goose and Carole with a promise to visit again soon before leaving.

Your flight home the next day is uneventful.

It's mid afternoon by the time you make it back. The two of you Uber back to your apartment before going to pick up Cerby and Hydra from Mav and Penny. You insist on driving to go get them. Bradley makes a fuss about it but ultimately gives in and hands you your keys.

"Angel, this isn't the way to Mav and Penny's." Bradley remarks as you make a turn. "I know." You hum back. You drive for a few more minutes before you pull into your final destination.

"Honey, who's house is this?" Bradley asks you as you pull in the driveway. "It's for sale. Let's go take a look." You say before hoping out of the car and bounding up the steps to the front door.

"Angel—baby—Hades, wait! We can't just go in a house that's for sale. We don't know if someone might be here!" Bradley scolds you as he follows you up the steps.

"No one is home, and we can go in if we have the key." You reply as you hold up the shiny piece of metal before unlocking the door. "How did you get that?" Bradley interrogates you as you step inside. "I have my ways." You laugh. "C'mon, Bradley, look around with me. Don't be such a kill joy." You tease him as you begin to flit throughout the space.

The bay windows along the back wall let in tons of natural like, and the floor plan is open concept with the kitchen, living room, and dining room flowing into one another. Gorgeous amber colored hardwoods run throughout the house and there is a fireplace along one wall.

The kitchen has beautiful light grey cabinets with white counter tops, and all the appliances are stainless steel. Bradley follows you up the stairs as he takes in all of the bedrooms before you lead him downstairs to the back patio and outdoor kitchen and the pool.

"Isn't this place amazing, Love?" You say to him with starry eyes.

"It's great, but—"He says hesitantly. "But what?" You ask him as you wrap your arms around his middle. "This is an expensive neighborhood and I know that you have money—"

"We have money." You correct him.

"We have money." He sighs. "But I don't want to spend so much of it. You earned that, and it's not fair."

You chuckle. "Bradley, I can't take it with me. And I've never had a reason to have a house until now. I mean, think about it. The yard would be perfect for Cerby and later on some kids. I mean, this would be the perfect home to raise our family in. You could teach them to swim in that pool while I make snacks in the outdoor kitchen. We could have our friends over. Heck, your aunt and uncle and cousins could come visit us. This place would be the perfect home for us!" You try to reason with him.

"I guess you're right. A place like this would be perfect for us to have a family. I guess we could talk to a realtor." Bradley laughs as the thought of you standing in the kitchen round and pregnant with his child while a toddler is running around the back yard with him creeps into his mind.

"We don't have to talk to a realtor, Bradley." You tell him. "I'm pretty sure we do, honey." Bradley chuckles.

"I'm pretty sure we don't. When we pulled up, you asked me whose house this was. Well, it's our house, Bradley. Welcome home." You say as you take a step back and dangle a key in front of him.

"You—you bought us a house? When? How?" He stammers, taking in your words. "The morning we left for Virginia. You'd be amazed what you can get done for the right amount of money.

"So you, you own this?" Bradley sweeps his hand around.

"We own this." You smile.

Bradley is silent for a moment before he picks you up and spins you around and carries you out the front door and onto the porch.

"Bradley? What are you doing?" You laugh. "I'm supposed to carry you across the threshold. It's tradition." He says with a matter of fact tone before doing just that. You break out into a fit of giggles as he sets you down and starts going through your home in earnest.

.................

Two weeks later, the two of you are all moved in. Your furniture fills the room, your photos and decor fill the walls and shelves. Your dishes sit in the cabinets, and Hydra and Cerberus have settled in nicely.

You've just come out of your huge new shower and are doing your nighttime routine when you notice a bruise from when you hit the corner of the kitchen island when making dinner, but you shake it off. As you apply some lotion, you notice the small scar on your hand from the mug you broke in Virginia.

When you go to inspect it further, you suddenly realize just how tired you are as you let out a yawn. You don't dwell on it because Bradley is calling you to come to bed, and the idea of being wrapped up in his big strong arms is the only thing you can be bothered to think of right now.

Taglist: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @roosterisdaddy36 @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @asshlyyyy @inkandarsenic @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @skipchat @sunlightmurdock @princess76179 @supernaturalvikingwhore @schoollover @cheyrenee @briseisgone @angelbabyange @marvelouslyme96

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fuokir · 1 year

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Aena Florence Cowell - Profile

◊ Basic Information ◊

▹ Gender: Female ▹ Date of birth: 19th of February ▹ MBTI: Defender ISFJ-A ▹ Nationality: British | Welsh ▹ Blood status: Pure-blood ▹ Wand: English Oak Wood | Unicorn Core | 14 ½" Length | Slightly Springy flexibility ▹ Nickname: - ▹ House: Slytherin ▹ Patronus: Red Squirrel ▹ Boggart: Dragon/Fire ▹ Amortentia: Juniper, menthol, lime ▹ Animagus: -

◊ Appearance ◊

Aena is slightly above average height. She has long blond hair, to be honest it's hard to say what color, her hair was once very burned out in the sun, I would call it a pearl blond, with a warm undertone. Violet eyes, in her favorite sly squint. A long, straight nose, it is very easy for them to get into other people's business. Freckled skin and two facial scars.

▹ Clothing style: Ready to dress up in anything, the main thing is that it be washed and ironed. She loves trendy blouses and comfortable shoes, otherwise she just wants to look neat. ▹ Accessories: Silver earrings. A brooch with which she secures a bow on her collar. ▹ Other distinguishing features: Two scars. First received before Hogwarts, her younger sister hit her with a candlestick in a fit of rage. This scar cuts through her upper lip. The second one was obtained approximately between 4-6 class step (I still haven't decided) in a fight with Aisha. This scar is located across the bridge of the nose.

◊ Personality ◊

Aena is a person who values connections very much, and, first of all, values her own comfort. She can come across as rude due to her bluntness, although she usually tries to choose her words. For close people, Aena is the figure of an older sister, patronizing and ready to help with deed or advice. She is still clueless in conversation, but it has its own charm. If you come to her in a bad mood or in tears, she will definitely coo around you and if words do not help, then be sure that you will be taken to have fun in Hogsmeade, even if Professor Weasley did not give permission to visit the village. Due to her rather reserved nature, it is very difficult to catch her own resentment or bad mood. As a rule, she suppresses bad emotions if the pressure on her is very strong. Cowell is inclined to break loose on someone, but more often than something (Ferdinand Octavius Pratt will never forgive her for his torn portrait that once hung in the Trophy Hall). Otherwise, she learned to live such moments in herself, not wanting to impose her problems.

▹ Traits: Self-confident, imposing, diligent, cunning, communicable. ▹ Likes: Feeling of winning, gift gifts to friends and family (she is one of those people who will see a wild flower, remember you and pick it to give), To speak caustically. ▹ Dislikes: Gobstones, hates all kinds of sweets and candies (childhood trauma). ▹ Good at: Chess, persuasion, remember things quickly. ▹ Bad at: Flying on a broom (she gets motion sick), to be tact. ▹ Hobbies: Board games, Herbarium, calligraphy. ▹ Fears: Fire, fatal disease. ▹ Ambition: Become an influential person in the magical world.

◊ Family ◊

▹Father: Ambrose Thomas Cowell ▹Mother: Lavinia Marjorie Cowell (nee Brown) ▹Sibling: Aeva Francis Cowell (little sister) | Darcia Arthur Cowell (little brother) ▹ Paternal grandparents: Bertram Caspar Cowell and Marjorie Rose Cowell ▹Maternal grandparents: They do not communicate for one reason or another / Aena does not know them, as much.. ▹ Other noteworthy relatives: Angus Beresford Cowell (uncle), Anna Rayne Brown (aunt), Victor Brown (cousin), Cain Beresford Brown (cousin, illegitimate son of Anna and Angus).

▹ Pet: Couple Mooncalfs and Jobberknoll ▹ Family home: Cardiff ▹ Blood Status: Pure-Blood ▹ Social standing: Middle class family, i guess... Aristocracy? ▹ Family background: The relationship between the Browns and the Cowells became very tense after the announcement of the engagement between Lavinia and Ambrose. Both Aena's parents were strong-willed and strong-willed, and although the families did not want this union, in fear that the newlyweds would quickly fall out of love with each other when they were drawn into the routine, this did not happen. The birth of Aena, the first-born, was not accepted by applause, the parents were still very young, just about to graduate from Hogwarts. it was also that Anna, Lavinia's cousin, and Angus, Ambrose's brother, were not careful and their families found out about their union. And although the Cowells, as a fairly young purebred family, were not well known, everyone whispered about the Browns. This angered the Browns and almost all ties between the families were cut off. This did not prevent the girl from growing up in love and care, even in some kind of permissiveness. Aena was a mischievous child. In particular, she adopted the confidence of her father, and inherited from her mother an unshakable determination. Of course her uncle Angus, who frequents them (living for a while with his brother and his family), also contributed. He was cunning, playful, witty and an excellent gambler. During the early years of Ambrose and Lavinia's marriage, he often stayed to babysit his niece while his brother and his wife worked at Gringotts Wizarding Bank. It would be nonsense if, in the end, Aena did not learn to play almost as well as her uncle. Over time, her sister was born, and now not only Angus was the nanny, but Aena herself, because her sister turned out to be a completely restless child.

The Cowell family can be safely called an example of a healthy family, where everyone listens and hears each other. Where conflicts are not hushed up, but resolved. In their house there is always an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. Family members value each other, they will never refuse to help friends and relatives. Her parents still work in a bank. Grandfather was an Auror, and her grandmother worked as a curse breaker. Her uncle Angus does not work anywhere, but thanks to his skill as a card sharper, he squanders money in all directions.

◊ Relationships ◊

It is difficult to write down with whom Alena is friends to one degree or another, since she tends to call a friend a person with whom she communicated a couple of times both of them at school. Anyway, she was the most frequent communication with Amit Thakkar, Aisha Werdy(oc), Grace Pinch-Smedley and Imelda Reyes. With the advent of the New Fifth Year, Aena's friend list has become noticeably larger! Since the fifth year, a new student has appeared in Cowell's inner circle (I would like to use a specific character, but I love many MCs so much … this is a difficult choice for me, in general, your character could be here !!!). Through the new fifth year, Aena became closer to Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt. This was an interesting experience for Aena, who was very prejudiced against Gaunt due to rumors and stories from her parents. Although her parents did not want to appear biased, because they had also been the subject of all sorts of dirty rumors before, they were very afraid of ties with the Gaunts. Interestingly, thanks to MC, Cowell stopped communicating with Cressida Blume. One day, Aena managed to overhear a conversation between a newcomer and Ominis in the Hogwarts library, where the MC told in detail what he had read in a Gryffindor girl's diary. She also had a quarrel with Imelda for a while, Reyes was tirelessly talking dirty about the new one and Aena was so tired of it that she asked Imelda not to talk to her until it was all over.

Any more serious and romantic feelings were alien to Aena for a long time. Probably the culprit was gambling, through which she received joy and adrenaline. When she was strictly banned from playing within the walls of the school for as much as 2 years, for Cowell it was a global catastrophe. She was still holding small sessions of games in Hogsmeade, Aena could not find a place for herself and did not know what to do. She struggled with background anxiety for a long time, at some point losing any interest in games. Ominis became her distraction. They bumped into each other on the way to Hogsmeade, talking. Gaunt had another problem with his parents (and more problems with Sebastian), Aena had complete emptiness and disappointment in herself as a person (she was really ashamed of her actions). The Slytherins entered into a playful agreement, Aena helped the boy create the appearance of the life that the Gaunts wanted for him (minimal, but this, as it turned out, was enough), and in return Ominis was supposed to simply brighten up Aena's especially lonely days. And so, with slow steps, they became closer and closer to each other.

◊ little things ◊

Heather Mason - Silent Hill 3

Dana Scully - X-Files

Morrigan - Dragon age:Origins

Suki - ATLA

Princess Leia Organa - Star Wars

Rhaenys Targaryen - House of the Dragon

#hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #aena cowell #hphl #hphl mc #hp oc #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis x mc

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sanjithesimp · 2 months

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♡bite me (pt.1 )ft. jeon jungkook & min yoongi♡

a/n: i couldn’t stop thinking about this idea so i had to write it right away. though i will be dividing it into two parts hehe

warnings: nsfw (minors DNI).fem reader. pwp (porn with very little plot). unprotected sex. fingering. rough sex (kinda). nipple play. degradation kink. praise kink.

summary: some horny thoughts i had.

playlist to listen to while reading this fic

he had always been very quiet but always nice to you. you had become somewhat very close, living all together in the house they have bought after they debuted. he was like a big brother for your boyfriend, they shared everything; yoongi took care of him, taught him a lot of things. jungkook always looked up to him. but now you weren’t so sure, you had made a mistake and this would change jungkook forever…you were doing everything possible to make sure he would never know about what happened that weekend when he was away for a photoshoot.

you had cheated on your boyfriend. it was a hot afternoon, yoongi and you were the alone in the house. a total mistake. he was nice to you, and he would give you advice whenever you needed it. you never imagined something would happen between the two of you.

“bored?” he asked, suddenly startling you. he smirked, something about his smile was

“a little bit, yeah” you admitted.

“want to play a game or something?” he suggested, it was kind of weird coming from him but you had nothing better to do. so you ignored it and followed him.

he was fond of playing cards, you never understood what was so fun about it. but you were going to give it a try. he offered you something to drink, and was surprised when you answered that you wanted exactly what he was drinking.

“didn’t think you would like whisky?” he said as he poured the golden brown drink in an old fashioned glass with a few of slices of lime and a couple of ice cubes.

as the hours passed, you kept on playing and drinking. things started to get more serious, but at the same time you both had loosened up, probably from all that drinking.

while yoongi poured some more whisky on his glass you watched him. you didn’t know what it was, maybe the alcohol but you seemed to think he was incredibly hot. you had never thought of him like that, he was like jungkook’s older brother. but his pink lips, his long raven black hair, his hands adorned with veins. it was almost driving you crazy so you had to look away before you started having more nonsense thoughts.

“what’s on your mind?” his voice made you jump.

“n-nothing, i just think i should stop drinking for now” suddenly feeling heat all over your body. “is it hot in here?” nervously going to open a few windows.

“i think you’re right, you should stop drinking” yoongi said laughing at your actions.

as the night went on, you kept on playing. things were starting to get weirdly flirty but you tried to ignore it, telling yourself that it was the whisky going straight into your brain and making you imagine things.

“should we make this more interesting?” yoongi asked, getting closer to you.

“how so?” you said, worrying about what he would say next.

“let’s play strip poker.” yoongi said so casually, as if he suggested to eat some ice cream.

“what? no, no, no…are you drunk?” he snickered at your last question.

“it’s just a game, or are you worried you will lose?” he dared you.

you dammed yourself for falling into his game. also you were wearing way less clothes than him.

“no of course not, i’m not a chicken.” you said, feeling confident.

but that was the last time you felt confident. even though yoongi had taken a few pieces of clothing you were the one who would wound up fully naked. it was just your boyfriends shirt and your panties still on you.

“i think we should stop” yoongi said without explaining, his face had changed.

“what, are you afraid you might lose?” you said mocking him.

“no, it’s just..getting late”he said as he started washing the dishes.

”i think you’re just afraid…” you whispered in his ear, teasing him again. he suddenly stopped and looked at you and without saying anything else pulled you in to kiss you. the taste of the strong whisky still on his lips.

you yelped as he placed his wet hands on your ass. you could feel the hunger in how he kissed you, the way he nipped at your skin. the way he moaned as you pressed your body closer to him.

“fuck-” yoongi said, feeling your hand palming his erection through his pants. he then guided you to your room, and then to your bed. the bed you and your boyfriend shared, you could still smell him on the bedsheets. this was all wrong, but you couldn’t help it. you couldn’t stop yourself, you wanted more.

yoongi slid his hands under jungkook’s shirt, his fingers ghosted over the lace of your panties. suddenly feeling an electric shock all through your spine. a moan escaped your mouth, suddenly making you feel embarrassed.

“are you that desperate to be touched, little whore?” he said, a smirk drawn across his face.

you nodded, not being able to formulate any coherent answer.

“i’m going to fuck you so that you never forget this” yoongi said, it was as if he was another person. you couldn’t believe the words he had just said.

he then ripped your panties off your body and discarded them somewhere in the room, you shivered feeling the cool air, your pussy already dripping wet, with desire to feel yoongi’s fingers. he teased you a bit more, his hands running up and down your thighs.

one of his hands went under your shirt, his fingers teased your cunt, he traced them up and down as he spread your juices all over your folds while the other hand fondled your breasts.

“fuck, i had never seen those.” yoongi said surprised that your nipples were pierced. he licked his lips at the sight of your hardened nipples decorated with the metallic hearts piercings you had chosen.

“do you like them?” you bit your lip, loving the way he was devouring you with his eyes.

“no…i love them” yoongi said and he took one of your tits with his free hand. he started licking it, his tongue making circles around your bud, and gently sucking on it. making you moan and whimper, you were sure you were just gonna cum by how he was sucking on your tits.

he introduced two of his fingers into your cunt, curling them to reach your g-spot. you could almost see stars as he kept on pumping them in and out of you, watching carefully what you liked the most by how your moans got louder whenever he sped up his movements.

“have you ever been like this for jungkook?” he said as he left a trail of kisses all the way from your chest to your neck “soaking wet, like a little whore”

you moaned his name, his thumb pressing on your clit. he was such an idiot for asking you something like that.

“answer…now” yoongi said, desperate to know the answer.

“n-no” you replied, loving the way he kept rubbing circles on your sensitive bud. you definitely didn’t want him to keep asking you questions about jungkook

“fuck me hard, yoongi…please” you begged him. right now you didn’t want to think about the terrible thing you were doing to your boyfriend.

“as you wish, princess” he said, pulling his fingers out of you and licking them clean, not leaving a single drop of your juices as he looked at you, his eyes filled with lust. you audibly gasped, thinking that was one of the hottest things you had ever seen.

you had imagined he was big, but not that big once he released his cock from the confinements of his boxers. it was painfully hard, his tip red and dripping with precum. you wanted to suck it clean but first you wanted him to fuck you senseless, until you could forget that this was so wrong yet it felt so right.

“you’re so big…i-” you started saying but he shushed you.

“i know you can, baby”yoongi said, lining his cock with your cunt, sliding it up and down, coating his dick with your juices.

you gripped the bedsheets until your knuckles were white as the sheets, every inch was getting less painful but you still weren’t sure you could take him all. once he bottomed out, you both moaned in pleasure, he could feel your velvety walls tighten around him, as you could feel his tip kissing your g-spot.

“see, i knew you could do it…such a good girl” he said as he started slowly sliding his cock out of you, leaving only the tip inside. you suddenly missed being full of his cock, but it didn’t took seconds before he thrusted back into you.

the lewd sounds filled the house as he rammed in and out of you, your loud moans and whines, his groans and moans, his balls slapping your ass, it was a sinful orchestra that you had both created. and you didn’t even care anymore if someone found you like this, under your boyfriend’s best friend, moaning and babbling nonsense as he fucked you hard on the matress that you and your boyfriend shared.

his thrusts were getting harder, you both getting close to your high. he could feel your cunt tightening around his throbbing cock. he could cum in that moment, but he wanted to enjoy it a little more. he liked the sight of your tits bouncing up and down as he sped up the pace, your face contorting with pleasure as he fucked you like no one else had.

he fucked you until you squirted all over his cock and the bedsheets. your legs gave out as he was still trying to reach his own orgasm.

“you look so fucking pretty, y/n” he said, your body glistening with sweat, a soft flush in your cheeks and your lips swollen. he continued thrusting in and out of you until he came inside you, filling you with his hot cum, not letting any drop go to waste.

he then pulled out of you, and laid next to you. his raven hair messy and some sticking to his forehead. he had never looked that handsome as in that moment. you turned and got on top of him and kissed him hard, tears started to run down your face.

“i’m so sorry, i-” you started saying but you couldn’t finish your sentence. “jungkook, must never find out about this…” you said, still crying as yoongi cleaned your tears from your cheeks.

he didn’t say anything else for the rest of the night, or the following days.

#oooof i-#idk where this came from #but is HAWWTTTT #omg fanning myself rn #a second part is coming hehe #idk if soon but i promise ill try to work on it #suga smut #yoongi smut #agustd smut #bts smut #yoongi x reader #bts fic #yoongi fic

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kushblazer666 · 29 days

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So my bratty children have grown up in an era in which it is a perfectly normal and everyday thing for ordinary families to have chopsticks available in the house.

They have no idea the absolute accomplishment it was to be sixteen and *proficient* with chopsticks when you took your annual school trip to an exotic location that was just the one Chinese restaurant in town.

Like, I was the shit, because I had lived in Europe and my parents had taken me fancy places and taught me fancy things like how to eat with sticks.

At home, though, we ate every meal with a fork and a knife like every decent middle class American family (excepting, presumably, actual families from places where chopsticks were a normal thing to eat with, but I didn't know anyone like that personally).

And the only thing approximating "Chinese" food that we had available on a regular basis was Cup of Soup ramen noodles (YES I KNOW RAMEN IS JAPANESE IT WAS THE 80s AND WE WERE ALL CLUELESS AND UNINTENTIONALLY RACIST (I'm so sorry, I do regret that in fact)).

Which noodles in a styrofoam cup we ate with a fork. Because DUH.

So, imagine my absolute let-down recently when I discovered the most amazing, innovative breakthrough. I had run out of clean forks, you see, and I was hungry, and there are Cup of Noodles (lime shrimp flavor, the best one - we didn't have fancy LIME flavor in our Cup of Noodles back in the day so "with shrimp" was the preferred style but you gotta move with the times and LIME is it, now) in the house, so I prepared myself a cup of noodles and then had to figure out how to eat them without washing a fork (oh, the humanity).

And my eyes landed on my big box of chopsticks.

And I realized.

OH MY GOD I COULD EAT MY CHILDHOOD COMFORT FOOD WITH CHOPSTICKS HOLY SHIT.

Needless to say, I was excited. So I set up my cup of noodles, let it steep in the boiling water for the required time, peeled back that limp, wet paper topping that you always eat some of in every serving no matter how hard you try to keep it out of the cup, and dug in with my chopsticks.

My son, who, as I've mentioned, is spoiled rotten, walked by at exactly that moment and I PROUDLY showed him my discovery. I held up the cup of noodles, held up the chopsticks, dug in and lifted noodles out of the cup, and said, "DID YOU KNOW YOU CAN EAT RAMEN NOODLES WITH CHOPSTICKS OH MY GOD"

He stood in my door for several moments, struck dumb with wonder, I'm sure.

And said:

"Mom. It's ramen. That's how you're SUPPOSED to eat them."

Then shook his head and continued down the hall to the kitchen. Presumably to eat MY food with that disrespectful mouth.

Anyway.

I feel old.

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tagedeszorns · 4 months

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How I once almost started my Heresy-obsession as a gigantic Ultramarines fan

When I was thinking about something @varanguard tagged me in, I ended up in a roundabout way where the obsession with the Horus Heresy started for me.

Buckle up, dear children, story time!

Back then, I was a big fan of the Space Wolves - something that continued for a long time. I've since known to have moved on from them, as the content for them really leaves a lot to be desired in terms of quantity and quality. Poor blokes.

But at the time, I was all about Ragnar Blackmane and his absolutely crazy, silly, sometimes very juvenile adventures.

And then came my friend M., my partner in crime when it came to history geekery. With whom I hiked the raetian Limes, with whom I talked my head off all night about the War of the Federates and the background to Roman electoral law. With whom I wandered around the underground of the ancient Roman neighbourhoods in Trento and with whom I waved my arms in sheer delight as I looked at the Mythraum in the Saalburg and raved about the torsion weapons on display there.

And he acted all innocent and asked: "What if there was a legion in the Heresy where we could discuss the influence of Dionysus cults from southern Italy on politics and culture in a very abstract way? I mean, look at Syracuse …."

He had me there. Subtly slipped me the parallels, grabbed me by my fascination for niche events, especially in the art historical sense.

I mean, you can easily see the Maraviglia on the wall of the Villa of Mysteries in Pompeii. The house of a very internationally active olive oil merchant who had contacts around the Mediterranean (as can be seen from the seals on the amphorae) and who had no problem putting bacchanalian scenes in the most garish colours on his walls.

From there it was a short way to the Greek cult of the hero and in the other direction to the worship of the solitary genius in the Renaissance.

Genesis of an Emperor's Children fan. Put me in a shell and wash me ashore at Cyprus.

And here it could as well have been blue instead of purple. Because I'm actually more fascinated by the Roman late republican period than the imperial era. I actually enjoy the political entanglements of the Equites more than their decline under the emperors.

As much as I was interested in the turmoil and conflicts of loyalty from the second century onwards, the reforms of Marius are more exciting in my opinion.

Virtutes and their interpretation? My thing! The organisation of public life? Wow, that's great!

Sounds more like ultramarines. I'd say that today.

But he didn't like them. For whatever reason. So he turned me in the direction he thought would be more interesting for me and let me run off - well fed with bait.

And of course, the Emperor's Children were right up my alley! In terms of art and military history as well as philosophically.

But still: @ladymirdan and I could almost, yes almost, have even better lore boxing matches today! It was very close! If he hadn't had that irrational but very typical "Ultramarines are boring" attitude. So it became Florence instead of Rome. The rest is history.

Thanks to everyone who has stuck it out this far. Text structure is not my strong point!

#warhammer #horus heresy #emperor's children #Ultramarines #History

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profound-bouquetbird · 10 months

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Hello! 💕

Can I request a long fluffy & smut (only lime) oneshot with prompts: "Y/n! Are you ok-", “W-were you just masturbating about me, Y/n?”, “Y/n, you don’t have to be so shy around me, you know?”, “S-should I help you with that, Y/n? I i-insist!”, “P-please spread your legs for me, Y/n.”, “H-hunter, please use your fingers in me.”, "H-hunter, your fingers feel so g-good…”, “Y-you’re so w-wet, Y/n.”, “P-please use your tongue on me, H-hunter.”, "H-Hunter! I’m so close! Don’t stop!~”, “H-how was it, Y/n?” and "W-wow, that is so a-amazing, H-hunter." about ageup!Hunter heard a strange noises and his name from the guest room at Luz's house when everyone was sleeping? Like he accidentally witnessed his shy!female!human!reader masturbating herself on bed made his face went redder and his ears wiggled fastly? Like he learned about his shy!female!human!reader has lot of her sexual frustration and he really wants to help her out? What kind of reaction ageup!Hunter has about his shy human girlfriend masturbating herself about him? I bet he will be shy blushing mess to her, haha. 🤣 I live for flustered ageup!Hunter! 💗

Hint#1: They are boyfriend and girlfriend together.

Hint#2: Warning⚠️: masturbating, vaginal fingering and Cunnilingus (eating out)

Hello! I don't really know how long this one shot will be, but I will try my best!

Warnings: masturbating, vaginal fingering and eating out

Important note: all characters are aged up

Edit: I am so sorry this took so long! Your other request will (hopefully) be out soon

Hope you enjoy :)

Hunter laid in his bed, looking up at the ceiling with furrowed brows. He couldn't sleep, Gus was snoring on the couch, the dogs outside wouldn't stop barking and the neighbors cats wouldn't stop meowing

It was really getting on his nerves, but he couldn't do anything about it. He sighed and got up from the mattress. He stretched his arms and legs, yawning and scratching his neck as he approached the stairs

He was trying to be quiet but the creak of the stairs was too loud. He quickly tiptoed up the stairs, since the longer he stays on the stairs the more louder the creeks would seem, got out of the room and closed the door

He let out a sigh of relief and started to walk down the hallway towards the bathroom, he made sure to tiptoe and step on the non-creaking parts of the floor since he didn't want to make even more noise

He walked towards the bathroom, each step making him feel more and more anxious. He was about to pass your door when he heard a moan inside, it wasn't a moan of pain, but of pleasure. His eyes widened slightly as he stopped in his tracks and looked at the door

'I must be imagining things.. right?' He questioned himself. He heard another moan come from the other side of your door and now he was sure he wasn't imagining anything

The tips of his ears turned pink when he heard another one of your moans, looking down at the door handle he hesitantly held his hand up

"Hunter~" His eyes widened as bother his cheeks and ears turned a bright shade of red, hearing you moan out his name like that gave him enough confidence to grab the door handle

He quietly opened the door, peaking his head inside. You didn't seem to notice him as one of your hands covered your mouth whilst the other one was pleasuring you lower parts. Your eyes were closed and you continued to moan into your hand, your hair was a mess and your face was red

Hunter walked into your room, closing the door behind him as he continued to watch you pleasure yourself

"Are you masturbating about me, Y/n?" Your eyes shot open as you gasped, the hand that was in your underwear shot back and behind you as you stared at Hunter with wide eyes, embarrassment washing over you

"Hunter! I, uhm.. I-" You stumbled over your words, looking anywhere in the room but at him

"Y/n, you don't have to be so shy around me, you know?" Hunter said, your eyes widened as you looked up at him, only to see him approaching your bed. You shuffled back as he crawled into your bed with a grin. Even though he wore that smug expression on his face, the blush on his cheeks and ears told otherwise, "sould I help you with that?" He asked, you looked panicked

"Wh-what?! No nononononono, you don't have to do that." You said, gripping onto your bedsheets as you backed away, already embarrassed enough by him entering

"Please, Y/n. I insist." He said, you relaxed and let go of the bedsheets. Hunter smiled warmly, crawly closer towards you

"Please spread your legs for me, Y/n." He said, putting a gentle hand on your knee. You nodded, spreading your legs slowly. Hunter pressed his fingers to your clit, but the cloth of your panties separated any form of pleasure

"May I?" He asked, one of his fingers hooking your panties. You nodded lightly, looking to the side as your face started to heat up

He smiled and slowly pulled your pants down, teasing you. You couldn't look at him, your hand was covering your mouth and your eyes were closed

He looked down at your womanhood, his face turning a light shade of pink as his ears wiggled slightly. He pressed his thumb gently onto your slit, slowly dragging it up and down

Your hand clenched over your mouth as you tried to keep moans from coming out, Hunter only chuckled as he pressed his index finger against your hole

He slowly started to insert his finger inside of you. You let out a struggled out moan as you tried to squeeze your thighs together, but Hunter's other hand kept them appart

Hunter then began pumping his finger in and out of you, making pleasurable moans escape your lips. Hunter then inserted another finger as he increased his pace, only making you squeeze your mouth tighter to not let a single sound escape

Hunters lips attached to your clit out of instinct, sucking and liking it. Your hips bucked up into his face as one hand shot down to grab his hair

"You're making such wonderful noises." Hunter thought out loud, making you tug at his hair. He let out a chuckle, his fingers slowly sliding out of you

You let out a whine as you looked down at him with a desperate gaze. Hunter only gave you a slight nod

He kissed your slit before inserting his tongue into you. Your back arched as you squeezed your thighs around Hunter's head, only pulling him closer

You felt a knot start to form in your stomach as you whined for Hunter to go faster. He obeyed your command, pushing his tongue in and out of you faster as his fingers were rubbing your clit

With one final moan, your hands shot to Hunter's hair, pulling his head closer as you released onto his tongue

After a few moments, Hunter pulled away, breathing heavily

"H-how was it Y/n?" He asked, crawling up to face you

"W-wow, that was a-amazing, Hunter." You breathed out, pulling his face down to kiss his lips. He smiled into the kiss, slowly pulling your pants up as he proceeded to cuddle with you for the rest of the night

#toh #the owl house #toh hunter #toh hunter x reader #toh x reader #fem reader #toh smut

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