#so i don't think it would have even occurred to her
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OH MY GOD, “who is he? ”
summary: feels like you’re fallin’ deeper & maybe you’re going crazy, right? does he want you or not? he’s so confusing!
ft. park sunghoon (based on ‘OMG’ by newjeans!)
content: fem! reader, tooth-rotting fluff, a lil bit of hurt comfort, sunghoon is that confusing guy, mutual pining, reader is a bit embarrassing i think? sunoo your support system! 1.8k words
— very very minimal proofread and editing bc ive only done this in one sitting (help me).
( 🍃 ) notes: this took me so long omfgsbks but here we are with my very first content on this blog, please be nice TT sunghoon might be ooc saur.. theres that! can u tell i love sunoo, i have to sneak him in. maybe the story will jump for awhile so sorry for that also.
you've probably liked PARK SUNGHOON for almost half of your life.
ever since he sat with you at the swing from the park you used to go to when you were kids and offering his own comfort when you were crying on that day, to this day forward when he offers his shoulder for you to cry on.
he never questions the reasons behind your cries, he never pushes and all he does is sit there and offer you whispers of solace that you take to heart.
because your best friend wouldn't want the worst for you.
because all he does is care for you.
and maybe—just maybe—you hate him a little for it, for doing things that make your heart flutter, for simply just touching your hair and pulling you closer hoping that it will quell the sadness that consumes you. or when he would walk with you home after his practice despite being tired and run down to the bones, he would never miss a day. or when he would call you such sweet things like you are together when you aren't.
or when one time he heard through jay how someone was making passes on you and disgusting comments about you, he comes home with a bruised lip and wounded knuckles. he refused to let you see him, not until you forced your way to his room with the first aid kit his mother let you borrow, because he also wouldn't let her treat him.
or when you can't even pretend to be okay in the sea of bodies in a party and he notices right away. he drags you by your hand and drags you out of the party without a care for anyone. he only tells you that he hates the party and would rather eat out in a convenience store nearby.
he holds your hand tightly, you knew that night you loved park sunghoon more than you could ever imagine.
a decade into your friendship, you fell in love with your best friend, park sunghoon.
you did your best to hide it, to keep these emotions at bay and lock away into the very bottom of your heart. you swallow the bubbling feeling in your throat whenever he's close. you did your very best to preserve the relationship the both of you built together. even if all you wanted was just ruin it and become something more.
loving park sunghoon was easy, it was easy as the breeze that touched your hair, it was easy as falling into a routine of living and looking forward to days when he's with you. the prospect of loving sunghoon comes naturally and you don't know how to stop it. it just grows more everyday and suddenly you find yourself in garden of flowers blossoming in your heart, so much that's its starting to flow out little by little and you're slipping, you're heart is becoming unguarded, the walls you've spent all your life building is chipping away slowly.
it's becoming suffocating, it's hard to breathe around him.
the passing touches, the stolen glances and brief silence has been occurring more and more.
it's only a matter of time, before someone catches on. unfortunately, that time is right now.
"what's with you and sunghoon, lately?" your friend, sunoo asks, "did you guys have a fight?"
a second passes before you answer him, "we did not. why do you ask?"
sunoo sits closer to you and puts his face on his palm, "you have been avoiding him."
you stopped, "no, i'm not."
"it's lunch and you're sitting here with me in the library, working on an assignment that's not due until next week, when you usually never miss eating when he comes by our room to eat with you." he pointed out.
too specific. were you that predictable? and when you don't answer sunoo realizes something. when his eyes widen too much for your comfort that's when you interject from whatever train of thought he had.
"or maybe—"
"i don't know what you are talking about, sunoo."
"you're avoiding him.."
"i already told you, i'm not—!"
"sure, keep telling yourself that." sunoo snorts at that, "i know you like him and not how a best friend should."
you can't breathe again, you were absolutely done for. because sunoo was right, he got the answer right and you couldn't find it in yourself to quip back at him. you can't find it in yourself to deny and brush it off, because it's simply not real, it's not what your heart is telling you. maybe, that was your last straw.
maybe that was all it needed for you to let out your heart just for once and face the reality.
you don't want sunghoon as a best friend.
the realization hits harder when someone utters it out, because you have lived all your life hiding and suddenly, it pours out like rain after a long unending drought.
now here you are. in the porch of your house under the moonlight with you encased in sunghoon's arms, because you were stupid enough to go out and try to forget about him, to go see other people and hope that you can lose all these feelings you have for him. it didn't, maybe it never will. a boy, somehow he's the same height and stature as sunghoon it was enough for you to agree for a dinner out.
it was stupid to begin with. you didn't even know this guy's name (you can't even bother to remember). because while you sat there and tried to engage with him, your mind drifted far on how he does not have the same moles as sunghoon, he does not make you laugh like sunghoon does, maybe he would've took you out to that ramen place you always go to after a long day instead of this fancy restaurant that you don't even know. quite sure enough that guy only talked about himself, you didn't listen.
"so are we going?" he gives you an all-knowing smile and as you try to turn him down a voice comes in.
"she's not going with you." you look behind, and there he stands one hand in his pocket wearing a white button-up shirt that you haven't seen before, a cold gaze accompanying it and his hair done all too perfectly—like he was on a date.
"hey! who do you think you are?" sunghoon ignores him as he offers his hand to you. tilting his head in question. you did not hesitate to grab it. it's almost a curse for him to know when you need him the most.
you can feel the heat rising up in your body as he intertwines both of your hands and gives it a squeeze.
he brings you home, like how he promised your dad when you were sixteen.
you bite your lips in hopes of suppressing all the emotions running down on you. but you can't really do that in front of sunghoon, can you?
you broke down.
and sunghoon was there—it was enough. it was enough for everything to pour out.
"i'm tired, hoon." his arms tighten around you, burying his face to your hair, almost as if he's kissing it in comfort.
you're tired? is it because of that guy? should he beat him up? you wouldn't like it anyway, so he erase the thought. park sunghoon has never hated anyone more than that jerk right now. he curses that stupid guy who made you like this.
"i hate you park sunghoon."
"you don't mean that."
you don't.
"i really really hate you." you were probably the worst to utter such words to him. to your best friend, to sunghoon out of all people. but you can't stop. "you're so stupid, stupid."
it takes him back, he didn't expect for you to be mad at him. he's silent for a moment as he continues to hold you like you're going to disappear.
"how am i stupid, baby?" there he goes again with those stupid nicknames.
you refuse to look at him, burying your face to his nape. and when you don't answer he talks for you.
"do you hate me that much for you not to look at me?" you really hate park sunghoon.
he sighs at the lack of your response. he sighs before he turns his face closer to your ear, "what am i gonna do, baby? you hate me, but i like you so much."
what? what the fuck?
that makes you widen your eyes processing what he just said as you sit up straight and facing him. and it makes him laugh a little, he probably shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. not when you're this adorably looking at him like you can't believe it.
"don't joke about things like that park sunghoon!"
wow, using his government name? "you don't believe me?" you don't answer. "why do you think i came to that awful restaurant wearing this shirt?" you knew it was new, you've never seen him wear it.
"because you want to fit it?" you answer.
"that too," he laughs, "and because you didn't eat lunch with me, you didn't walk home with me. i heard from sunoo, that you were out with someone and you didn't dress up because of me. you were on a date and it wasn't me. you were avoiding me, baby."
he looks at you and it hurts because both of you are a fucking idiot. all this time, sunghoon liked you.
park sunghoon likes you.
"how long?" and you can't help it, you have to know.
he thinks for a second, "hm.. since when you were on that swing? i thought you were pretty." he smiles so easily.
oh my god.
you buried your face once more, not really knowing what to do, because for the longest time you thought you were the only one feeling this way.
but sunghoon understands, he continues to talk, "jay thinks i'm obsessed with you. he's not wrong, you know? you don't have to say anything right now, i know you're having a har—"
you kissed him. park sunghoon is really an idiot. how can you not like him? how can anyone not even like him? he's so stupid. sunghoon's eyes widen a bit, but melts into your touch as quickly.
god, was this really happening? please don't ever wake him up if this is a dream.
you pulled away for a breather and he reached for another one causing you to block his lips with your hand.
feeling the blood in your cheeks, flustered as sunghoon kisses your palm instead. his hand coming up to yours to remove it.
"can i kiss you again?" you were going to die, "please?" you're sure of it.
"no!"
sunghoon laughs at that. you can't feel it, but his cheeks are really hurting now from smiling. maybe one day you'll let him kiss you more, but for now this is enough.
he has loved you almost all of his life.
𖹭 likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! i hope he is not too out of character :')
#sunghoon x reader#enhypen x reader#park sunghoon x reader#enhypen sunghoon x reader#enhypen sunghoon#sunghoon imagines#enhypen#sunghoon#park sunghoon#( 🌟 ) HAE created a new post !
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"i don't believe in god, so you're the only one to whom i can pray"
cw: prior mcd, brief suicidal ideation
ghost sits in the front pew of a tiny catholic church in russia. his skin prickles underneath his gear, rifle sat next to him on the bench. he shouldnt be here. he shouldnt be sticking his neck out like this when theyre so close to catching makarov. practically at his front door price had said. or was it gaz. he cant remember very many small details right now.
the church has all the same fittings as the one they held johnny's service at. it's much less ornate though. he thinks johnny might have liked this one better. less frills, much simpler than the drawn out affair they'd had in glasgow. ghost sticks his hand in one of the pockets of his tac vest and figets with the warped bullet fragments in it.
his eyes are drawn to a statue to the side of the altar. its of a woman, eyes looking skyward. she's got swords encircling her, something like a halo over her head. he can't remember her name. something about wounds and sorrow. ghost scoffs, fist tightening in his pocket. the shards of metal dig into his palm.
there's a shift in the constant cloud cover outside, and a solitary beam of sunlight shines through a small window behind the altar. it filters perfectly through the stained glass, casting the pew ghost is on in muted reds and blues. he releases his grip on the metal pieces in his pocket and removes his hand from it, slumping in his seat. blessed sunshine. there's something he could worship. after all these weeks, either holed up inside or underground or living under steel grey skies he felt like some kind of prayer of his had been answered.
it gives him an idea. a bad one, but those seem to be the only kind he can come across these days.
ghost pulls off his gloves, one finger at a time, and sets them on the pew. he flexes his fingers and puts them together like he'd seen people do when they were in church, like he'd seen johnny's mother do after he'd told her that her boy would be coming home in a body bag. he shuffles forward and down until creaky knees make contact with creaky wood, and he waits for the words to come.
but they don't. he sits there for long minutes and nothing comes out. the small beam of sunlight dissappears back into the constant grey, leaving him in the half light of the abandoned church again. he drops down to sit on his calves. the backs of his shoes are digging into his ass and the edge of the pew is jabbing into his vest. he should get up. but he doesn't. he can't. if this is it, the end of makarov, what may be the end of ghost himself, he's going to get through to johnny one way or another, even if he has to sit here on his knees for hours to believe in his god.
another idea occurs to him. it's worse than the first. but he's sick of failing, so he tries anyway.
ghost reaches up and pulls his mask off, tossing it into the seat behind him. he regains his earlier posture, kneeling with his legs straight, hands clasped together, looking up through the window like the statue was.
simon opens his mouth. closes it again. shuts his eyes.
"johnny."
his voice is rough with disuse, breaking on the word. he clears his throat, purses his lips. starts again.
"johnny. dunno if you can hear me. all i know you're just dust in the wind now."
he flexes his interlocked fingers, trying to soothe their urge to pull his mask back on.
"i can't pray for you, can't bring myself to. seems selfish, sure but its facts. cause if theres someone up there watchin' then why the fuck wasn't it me instead'a you. man like me ought to croak before a man like you. bloody fuckin' waste otherwise."
simon knocks his forehead to his knuckles and sighs.
"but now i guess. guess i'll trust you to do that. watch my six. always did johnny, always."
he squeezes his hands together.
"we're going after him, soap, no fuckin about this time. we'll get him. i'll get him for you."
his trigger finger twitches.
"help me get him for you. don't let me fall until he does. don't let me breathe my last until his goddamn skull's caved in. please."
part of the weight he's been carrying since that cold day in november slides off him.
"all the shit i do now is for you johnny. woulda left if price hadn't kept chasing the bastard. woulda gone to meet you off the side of that cliff. everything i do is for you now."
he thinks about the mountains of bodies they've gone through to get this close, the rivers of blood that have stained his shoes so badly he's replaced them twice in four months. he thinks about torture sessions that lasted days, men screaming for their mothers in the pitch blackness of underground cells.
he thinks of fights with price he had to be physically dragged away from, about gaz clocking him across the face after simon had said they didn't care their sergent was gone.
"we'll finish the job. whatever state we're in."
" 'n when i blow his brains out i'll think of you."
he blinks his eyes open to find the whole church bathed in sunlight.
#HOLY SHIT I WROTE SUMMAT! MA GET THE CAMERA#ghoap#ghostsoap#soapghost#mw iii#incoming transmission // 📡#fic // 📖
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I watched that scene in V for Vendetta when V kills Delia, and it occurred to me that there isn't quite the same scene throughout TBB S3. Despite the heavy redemption themes for Crosshair and Emerie, I don't think I heard either of them directly acknowledge their wrongs and apologise to their (live) victims.
I didn't hear Crosshair admit fault for shooting Wrecker on Kamino, trying to incinerate the squad on Bracca, or kidnapping Hunter and using him as bait. Never mind to Howzer for his squad's arrest and death in captivity, or the people of Ryloth for his assassination of Orn Free Taa. Or to the next of kin of at least two women I remembered he killed during his Imperial service.
I never heard Emerie apologise for using the kids and clones as pincushions to draw blood, abducting and imprisoning them. Has everyone forgotten that she was there regularly while Crosshair was strapped to the bed and being experimented on?
The point is that while both characters did heel-face turns and performed deeds to atone for their pasts, the lack of apology is deafening. Howzer was portrayed as the asshole for not seeing Crosshair's heel-face turn because it should have been ''obvious'' how Crosshair treats Omega. I see it as the characters who should have broken the fourth wall and read the script to bypass the drama that would have occurred if an apology had been forthcoming. The "hard" part was done; Crosshair lost his hand; what more do you idiots want? I would have chalked it to the cancellation had I not seen something similar running around Season 1...
It's one of those aspects that gnaws at me with Disney Star Wars. What I call the externalisation of evil, paired with the lack of accountability. Evil happens because people were forced or duped to act on its behalf, but because these people are not "true" believers (as seen by their redemption), they need not be held accountable for their actions while serving evil. Their acts in service of the "superior good" balance the scales and bypass the need for accountability.
And for a "kids" show lauded as the most "adult" of the TCW-era animation, I have to ask, is this really the lesson to teach kids? Because in real life, no one can read your mind and hear your apology mentally. And some can fake it and be unrepentant in the end. The victims of your wrongdoing have the right to confront you, hear your apology, and decide to absolve or condemn you.
"I am not here for what you hoped to do. I am here for what you did"- V
"Is it meaningless to apologise?
Never
I'm so sorry" - Delia's last words to V
I find myself less upset about Emerie because Emerie was introduced so late that not only do we not see her doing anything THAT horrific, but there wouldn't have been a lot of time to really work through any kind of redemption arc for her. Within her first few episodes, we do see her soften towards Omega a bit, so they DO set up that Emerie isn't all she appears to be which allows for her to have stronger reactions to things like the Force sensitive children in the vault later.
My issue with Emerie, which is likely partially due to the cancellation cutting off some of what they might have planned to do with her, is that we have ZERO EXPLANATION for her. Why does she exist, was she just a defective clone who came out female and so the Kaminoans sent her away or did one of them intentionally try to create a female clone for some reason? Why did they send her to Hemlock, how was Hemlock connected with the Kaminoans to begin with and connected SO early that he was able to acquire a clone before the Jedi and the Republic even knew they existed? Why did Hemlock accept her and what has he been doing TO her this whole time? What is her relationship with being a clone if she was presumably separated from the rest of them for her entire life and not necessarily raised as a clone the same way as even TBB would've been? How does this impact her relationship with the clone prisoners on Tantiss as well as Hemlock?
Her redemption arc feels both half-assed and like... just half-assed enough because Emerie is basically a blank slate the whole time. We don't know anything about her or her motivations for anything and so there's nothing to really make me feel like her quicker change of heart goes against anything we know about her. She's never shown to be particularly unkind or malicious, just... somewhat disconnected from the clone prisoners and inclined to just accept that Hemlock's work is necessary. Because we know so little about her aside from that she's been with Hemlock since she was extremely young, it works for me that she's mostly just kind-of disconnected about the things he's doing to the other clones until she manages to make a personal connection that sort-of changes her perspective. She does not personally capture or hurt anyone to my memory, she never seems to be intentionally trying to cause pain to anybody, there's no malicious intent behind her actions that she has to work around and make up for. There's not even any real prejudice and anger towards the clones themselves that is causing her to be okay with what Hemlock is doing to them. So just her recognizing that a change NEEDS to be made is enough for me with Emerie, I don't feel like I needed more of an apology in order for her "redemption arc" to make sense because she's barely a fleshed out character as it is.
Crosshair on the other hand, DID owe an apology to a lot of people. I HATE the way they handled his interactions with the rest of the squad and with Howzer in particular. I HATE the way HOWZER has to apologize and Crosshair never does. It's fucked up and wrong and such a badly done redemption arc and I honestly can't even blame that on the cancellation because it's early enough in the season that they likely already had that built in before they had to make any changes. There's also already been TWO SEASONS before this to build up to Crosshair's change of heart that I think got mishandled as well. He got so little screen time in season two that his change of heart that turns him against the Empire doesn't feel believable to me at all.
My biggest issue with BOTH of these characters and the way their stories were handled was the distance from the ACTUAL CLONES.
This is an issue I've had with the show from the beginning. It's billed as a show about clones, but the main characters are SO separated and distant from the real clones that none of their development really has anything to do with the clones and it makes it feel like it never really WAS a clone story at all. Crosshair's story would've been more compelling if it had been about his bigotry towards the clones and his development had come specifically from learning they were good people and he was wrong about them. Emerie and Omega's stories should've been about them finally being able to connect to the other clones that they'd been forced away from their whole lives and figuring out what it truly means to BE a clone. The Bad Batch's story would've been more compelling if it had had more focus on what was actually happening to the clones immediately after Order 66 and the desperation and tragedy of trying to save them in a world that cares about them even less than it used to.
Instead, Crosshair's story seems to be about realizing the Empire sees him, PERSONALLY, as expendable and THAT'S what makes him realize it's bad. The fact that the Empire sees him as no different than the other clones doesn't really allow him to see the CLONES in a different light or connect to them better, it just destroys his loyalty to the Empire because he's not considered special anymore. Emerie only turns against the Empire after she sees what's happening with the Force sensitive children, the torture and captivity of the clones doesn't seem to bother her at all. Omega's development for the last two seasons has had nothing to do with her identity as a clone and a lot more with her identity as a "soldier". Echo is the only character with any real connection to the other clones and the moment he starts to voice that, he gets written off and becomes a recurring cameo character instead of a regular main ensemble member. The moment he decides to more fully be a part of a clone-centric storyline, he can't be a part of the Bad Batch's story because the Bad Batch is inherently NOT A CLONE STORY.
And this is the biggest problem with this show. It's selling itself as a clone story and not actually following through on it and it causes this weird dissonance within the narrative because I don't think this show ever truly knew what story it was telling. It hurts every single one of the characters.
This show would've been a LOT better if they had just let it be a story about, say, four random bounty hunters who worked as a team. Or even, god help me, four Mandalorians from different clans or houses or whatever who are BARELY managing to stay civil with each other. It would've made the stories with Crosshair and Emerie feel a LOT easier to stomach because we aren't sitting there wondering why they aren't reacting to what's happening to the other clones around them. It might've made the stories easier to WRITE, too, because they wouldn't have had to keep trying to force a connection between these characters and the clones that so clearly just isn't there.
Maybe these "redemption arcs" would've been better done and made more sense if these characters weren't clones.
But then again I remember how well done Ventress and Kallus's "redemption arcs" were and I think that maybe it wouldn't have mattered at all.
#star wars#clone troopers#anti tbb#tbb critical#crosshair critical#anti crosshair#emerie critical#anti emerie
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my ‘might get me hunted down by an angry mob’ dw opinion is that it would have been ooc for either 13 or Yaz to lean in to kiss tbh
#dw shit#now i shall wait to be hunted#(i legit mean it#13 didn't want to go there#she's not physical either in an interactionary sense#she's very physical and eats the scenery but she doesn't reach for people in that way almost ever#so i don't think it would have even occurred to her#and yaz would Not go and plant a kiss on her after getting a no#especially since it's probably bad form to go and make out with the dying woman who has#again#said she doesn't want a romance#also the ice cream flavours would probably have clashed#which is fine for 13 who eats dirt#probably worse for yaz)#(i say this like my other opinions aren't likely to get me hunted by an angry mob lol)
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bleh
I know useless yearning is my brand™ but it would be nice if I fell for someone who's actually interested for once
#i mean I don't KNOW but like.#i do not believe she's dumb#I think she has the capacity to have figured out I have feelings for her#in which case the reason she hasn't responded at all is either that she's nervous about it (doesn't seem so) or more likely isn't intereste#which#yknow#just sucks a bit#I still love hanging out with her regardless but like#it would be nice yknow?#ah well#she's only ever had one love before and our mutual wife is very strong on the initiative so perhaps she IS unsure#or yknow it hasn't even occurred to her to think of anyone else that way at present#idfk. I'm tired it's been a rough day.#she took care of me a lot today while I was very sick and that has only stoked my feelings#idfk#i'm getting depressed I should get to bed#eilooxology#in which xara is gay
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I miss Haruka.
#Don't think it ever occurred to me how integral Haruka is in making Yakuza as a series what it is until she was down for the count in 6#Like you guys have followed me you know that I love her dearly- I did all the Haruka's trust stuff because she's that beloved by me#it's not as if I haven't found her extremely important the entire time#but it does just strike that once you take Haruka mostly out of the equation Kiryu does not feel whole as a character#if it weren't for her he would have probably died years back#Like I love Majima so much but Majima doesn't have to be interacting with Kiryu in a Kiryu game for me to still be having a good time#with Haruka its like. No she HAS to be here in some way or shape or it just feels empty and lonely#5 was so interesting because they were separated and we got to see how that separation effected them.#I don't know what I'm talking about the point I'm making is Haruka's like a sleeper agent#You SHOULD love her from the get go but she slides into the series so well that you don't even question her presence its just like Yeah#She has to be here. If you take Haruka away and she didn't exist in the games I wouldn't love them half as much because she's the constant#through line and heart of the series. To the point where I think people underestimate how much she makes these games special#... I love Haruka 🤧
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🍒 - fitting room.
summary: your soon to be husband always did his best to keep you happy and pretty for him, once a month he would always take you out to keep you in fashion, even if that was just an excuse to fuck you in a fitting room.
c.w: nsfw, smut, p in v, blowjob (m. recieving), dirty talk, public sex, fitting room sex, almost caught, cum denial, mentions to tit slapping and clit slapping, creampie, breeding, dom snow, sub reader, president snow x soon to be wife reader, sex in public places
being wed to the president of panem had some strange types of luxury that comes with it.
one of them being your wardrobe, full to the brim with clothes he brought to you, he had to build you an entire closet to fit in all the things he got you. jewelry, dresses, everything that he wanted you to wear for him, too. lingerie being the thing he always told you to buy.
so today, once again, you were on another luxury store with him, buying clothes and asking for his opinion on certain clothes, knowing he was glad to help you.
"m'love-" you called him, shyly. he gave the assistant of the store a look that was enough to send her away, and when he entered, he could see your panties on your hands while you wore one of the store's new dress. you were olaying with the fabric of your panties like a timid whore, hands occupied with it.
"what..." he chuckled, not even needing to ask anything when you fluttered your eyes at him, his dick starting to stiff up when you swayed your hips to his direction, arms hugging his waist shyly.
"it's just, you know.. you have been such a good husband to me and our wedding didn't even occur, i thought we could, you know, uh... advance the honeymoon."
ah, it wasn't the first time you guys fucked, but those words were enough for him to kiss you all of a sudden, pinning you on the wall while putting your panties on his pockets.
you did your best to make him happy too, always satisfying him and his dick, pumping him while on your knees, tears welling on your eyes as you licked his tip, kissing it open mouthed.
"don't let any drop fall on the dress, okay?" he growled, and you nodded obediently, the action making your head bob on his cock, earning a chuckle out of his lips.
you pulled away a bit, breathing heavily before giving his balls a small kiss. he slapped your face lightly, putting his entire being into not hurting your pretty face and thanking heavens for you being a whore who liked such dirty things.
"coryo, i.. hn, i want you to cum inside of me." you said, breathless after drooling on his cock, getting it purposefully wet for it to enter your gushing ignored cunt.
"god, you're such a bitch." he chuckled, pulling you to stand up, your legs shaking from being on your knees for longer than you actually remembered being.
with your thigh being held by his hand to spread your legs apart, your hands were holding onto anything in that fitting room that could help you not to fall. your moans were muffled by your own panties, that he had stuffed in his pocket before calling you a whore for making him have to muffle your lewd sounds with your own panties.
"i can't believe you are such a perverted whore, drooling on your own panties while i fuck you senseless." he whispered on your ear, kissing your neck while his skin slapped against yours. "maybe i should fuck some sense into you, don't you think so, bunny?"
his question was ironic, but you still nodded pathetically, a despair he had never seen before on anyone's eyes, your tears probably being the main thing that made him think of that.
then, there was a sudden knock on the fitting room door, which made you panic, but not him, his thrusts could have gotten a bit slower, but your pussy was still gushing around him, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as you moaned against your panties.
"miss snow?" the assistant asked, ear on the door as she tried to hear what was happening inside the fitting room. "miss snow, is everything alright?"
her voice seemed a bit worried, and coriolanus kisses on your neck made you even weaker, his mouth nibbling on your ear.
"be a good girl and answer her. and don't you dare make those slutty sounds of yours." he whipered, taking the panties out of your mouth, you let out a soft sob and breathed in heavily before answering.
"y..yes, it is." you blurted out. "is there.. is there anything 'rong?" you fucked yourself back on his dick while saying those things, his hands grabbing your ass with desire, lust and gluttony, marking his hand prints on your ass.
"no. i just needed to know if your husband was there. it is not allowed to have two people in the same fitting room in the store, i need to follow the rules." she said, and your pussy gripped tightly on his cock, his finger masturbating your clit non stop.
"h-he's not there." you answered, pausing multiple times to try and control your sobs.
"but you called him earlier, miss." she said.
"yeah, only t-to zip up.. m-my dress..!" you said, biting your lip as his hand met your cheek again and again, your lips trembling as you cried a bit.
"oh.. okay, miss! please call me if needed." she said, coriolanus relaxed seeing her shadow disappear on the ground, your mouth being stupidly stuffed with your panties again.
"god, you're a terrible actor, bunny." he said, picking up pace while fucking you deep and fast. "great thing you're such a perfect wife for me."
you mewled into his touches, feeling him slap your butt terribly strong, your skin burning as you moaned. "'m sowwy, love" you said, not taking in the tease, it was too difficult to speak up when there was a pair of panties shoved on your mouth.
he slapped across your boobs, your nipples stinging up while his other thumb rubbed against your over sensitive clit against his skillful hands, his hand slapping and pinching at your clit.
"sorry, coryo, sorry!" you begged, crying eyes closing shut as you felt your climax next and ready to engulf your body, but it didn't.
however, he was the first to cum, breeding you up real nice for him while you kept crying.
"coryo!" you begged, not even needing to say the words for him to know what you wanted, his index and his thumb kept on assaulting your clit, his lips kissing your tears.
"sorry, bunny. you're not gonna cum until we arrive home." and those words were enough for you to cry more, your pussy clenching as he pulled his cock away, leaving your cunt to clench on the air, already missing his cock. "be a good girl, okay? if you complain, you won't be cumming for the next month." he threatened.
he helped you dress your panties again, paying for the dress that was still on your body, your body, that was still stuffed with his cum. you and him walked to home, he only demanded that the chauffeur would leave your shopping bags on your closet.
he made you walk all the way to home with your panties stuffed in cum, but you didn’t and you wouldn't complain. you knew that the best you behaved, the soon you'd be cumming on your shared bed, making a mess on his face and on his cock.
you hugged his arm, biting your lip while day dreaming about how much he'd fuck you when you both arrived home. which he did.
#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow imagine#the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes#young coriolanus snow#young president snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#tbosas smut#dom coriolanus#sub reader#ask blog#coriolanus smut#smut
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Madre Solo Hay Dos - 1.09 // 3.05
AKA Cinematic parallels pt 2
Bonus: Mariana.EXE has stopped working
#madre solo hay dos#ana servín#mariana herrera#shitty screencap posts (TM)#do you ever think about how this is real actual canon that no one can take away from us or explain away as 'subtext'???#because I do (even from the hole I have crawled into and won't be crawling out of any time soon)#I like the contrasts in line delivery and facial expressions#mariana looks anguished because she picked the absolute WORST time to declare her love and got kicked out of ana's house for her troubles#whereas ana is calm and almost cheerful bc it was on the heels on them sleeping together#so to her it was not unreasonable to expect that the confession would have a much more positive outcome than when mariana did it#and I am absolutely OBSESSED with ana's little shrug and head shake as she says it like it was so obvious what she was gonna say#GAWD ludwika is so good I'm gonna jump off a cliff#and I included mariana's reaction bc it makes me laugh (to keep from crying) bc it never occured to her that ana might have caught feelings?#the same way (interestingly enough) that it never occurred to ana that the person mariana wanted to be free to be with was ferrán#she spent all episode thinking mariana had met someone or assuming it was elena but never mariana's ex whom she had to dump for the charade#and don't think I missed the fact that now they have BOTH broken the other's heart in equally soul-crushing ways laughcry#I do appreciate the show's commitment to keeping the playing field level between them lol#so yeah this was just a symphony of crossed wires and misunderstandings like no wonder it went so sideways it was doomed before it started#(yeah it looks like I'm just gonna tag vomit all my feelings about this scene in this post#so I don't have to rewatch the scene to make a proper one with full caps and dialogue#bc I just CAN'T with ana's 'what happened between us meant nothing to you? bc I was there and I haven't been able to stop thinking abt it'#godfuckingDAMMIT BOTH ludwika and the writers will be hearing from my lawyers like HOW IS THIS SHIT ALLOWED)#anyway... what else is there to say :((( please continue to respect my privacy while I am in deep mourning
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just realized something about ambrose and his relationship to his parents that I would LOVE to CHEW ON but he exists in limbo and I don't have the outlets oTL
#although to be fair I don't see this being something that directly comes up in a dnd context anyway#but it could have been something he started to understand and process in the background if he could progress through time 🤔#anyway ambrose's father was an exceptionally warm and loving man and he died when ambrose was pretty young#and mostly I've thought about how his mother's consuming grief over it has affected their relationship#and how growing up in the shadow of that grief shaped him as a person#it is only just now occurring to me how much that has affected his own relationship with his father and his father's memory#he was a brilliant man and a kind man and ambrose ends up studying where he used to teach so people would reminisce about him#but ambrose got so swept up in his mother's despair he almost forgets he lost his father... HIS grief was overwhelmed and subsumed by hers#and like. man. when's he gonna Really Process that he lost both parents overnight and doesn't even feel like he can talk about it#he's been shouldering his mother's burden for so long he doesn't even think about his own#he regrets what the loss did to his mom and to their family more than he actually gets to just... miss his dad#[rattling him around] MY BOY... HAD SO MUCH GOING ON I WANTED TO PLAY HIM SO BAD!!#cause of course all this background had Implications for what he's like and how he would play#and I JUST-- he's INTERESTING he's GOOD SWEET BOI I wanna CHEW ON HIM but circumstances have dictated his campaign is not to BE#and I don't wanna Write A Story I wanna roleplay :') so.... :')#about me#my OCs#ambrose
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DP x DC Prompt #4
When they all convene at the cave, Alfred is silently wrapping Dick's knuckles. Damian hovers beside him. Tim and Barbara are hunched over the batcomputer, not even sparing Bruce a glance as he strides over.
"Report," Batman grunts. No one reacts.
"Report!"
"Hood pushed his panic button at 2:34 AM," Barbara says shortly, straightening.
The button had been a joke, mostly because Jason would never use it and everyone knew it.
"I patched into his comm at 2:35. This is what I heard initially." At her nod, Tim presses play. What occurs next is a garble. There is the sound of high winds, as if Hood is rushing through the air, even though the comms are designed to filter out any ambiance otherwise the Bats would never hear each other. Interspersed is a mixture of static punctuated by high, inhuman screeches of metal and something else unknown.
"This goes on," Barbara says after thirty long seconds, switching it off. "Red Hood failed to respond to any attempts at contact. I dispatched Nightwing to Hood's location at 2:36 AM. He was approximately two miles away." She pulls up a GPS map of their respective locations, their beacons blinking.
"At 2:41 AM, Red Hood's comm goes off, as does his GPS," Barbara says, swallowing softly as the red beacon indicating Jason disappears. "Nightwing arrives at 2:42 AM."
Dick doesn't say anything, head hanging low as he grips the metal table he sits on. Damian glances between the two of them, expression flat but fists clenched.
"Nightwing, report."
"..."
"Scene was empty, B," Tim speaks up. "No trace of Hood, no sign of a struggle. No cameras in the alley. We've been checking the ones nearby but so far there's no sign of anyone but Hood heading in that direction...and no one, Hood included, caught in the cams heading out, not within that time frame."
"So he's still in the area," Batman concludes. "The local buildings?"
"All the entrances have cameras, which showed no evidence of Hood nor any evidence of being tampered with," Barbara says. "Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin canvased within a half mile radius to check for any signs of disturbances in any of the windows or rooftops but found no evidence to support Hood being taken. A scan confirmed several serial offenders, but when interviewed and searched there was no sign of Hood. Several in the area reported an unusual quiet for Crime Alley."
Batman forces the next question out. "Did you check the dumpsters?"
"Yes," Nightwing grits out. "Empty."
Barbara clears her throat. "I have attempted to reconnect to Jason's GPS and comm as well as restart both remotely but there's no signal at all. The thing is, when there's a disruption like that it usually leaves some sort of sign" she pulls up the audio waves, pointing at the end where the spikes conform into a straight line that makes everyone deeply uncomfortable. Upon playing, the noise from before plays before going abruptly silent. "But there is no large spike, this is clean. It just ends. His GPS is much the same. It's not off, it's just gone."
"I know you don't like to hypothesize this early on, B, but we think this involves a meta," Tim says, rewinding the audio. "We've been running the audio from Jason's comm through different filters, playing with the levels and isolating what we can and, well, take a listen--"
The screeching drops to a sort of muffle and in the background, distantly, they can hear bits of Jason's voice.
"No, I'm not---"
"--don't need--"
"get AWAY from--"
a particularly desperate yell that makes Tim flinch, "I am NOT--!"
and almost a whimper that makes Batman's blood run cold, "please..."
And then, unfairly clear even through the faint garble, Jason says "I don't have a choice, do I."
And a minute later, quietly: "Ok."
The audio cuts off.
The defeat in Jason's last words is palpable, and fundamentally wrong. Jason has never sounded defeated a day in his life, and no one knows how to process Red Hood all but giving his hands over for the cuffs. Nightwing pushes himself off the table.
"I'm going back out there," he growls. No one tries to stop him as he stalks out the cave, not even Alfred.
"I will accompany Nightwing, make sure he does not punch any more walls." Damian says, nodding tightly.
"B?" Barbara asks.
"Keep working on it. See if you can identify what could be making those noises if Hood was standing still in an alley," Batman says, walking towards the zeta tube. "I'm going to make a few calls."
#batman#danny: how do i take this incredibly volatile vigilante that shoots first talks later and scares the crap outta me to a doctor#danny: I scaRE HIM HARDER#danny phantom#red hood#nightwing#red robin#dp x dc#oracle#dp x dc au#batfam#dp x dc prompt#dp x dc crossover
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Hii, saw your request were open!
This might not even make sense, because I don't even know if the na'vi have this too
But some hc to human reader getting their period earlier than expected and the sully kids + tsireya, aonung and roxto reaction to weird human biology
Thanks alot and stay healthy!!
--- sex ed. class ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ
platonic!various x gn!human!reader
!! in my hc, fem na'vi doesn't menstruate !!
teaching your na’vi friends, who doesn’t menstruate, the beautiful world of human biology
part 1! part 2
"so, your... thing bleeds every month?"
you nod
"are you stupid?
"i'm sorry?"
ao'nung clicks his tongue, looking at you with disbelieve. "that means you're doing something, only Eywa knows what, to yourself. and you’re doing it so badly that it bleeds-"
you hit him on the head, "no! what are you even thinking?"
"no, but seriously" neteyam looks at you with concern, "forgive me for watching you, but this morning i saw you wash your blanket that’s literally soaked with blood"
your face starts to heat up, "that means the cloth i use wasn't enough-"
"3 pieces of cloth to soak your blood. and it wasn't even enough?" tsireya's voice filled with worry, "are you sure you're okay? we could ask my mother to patch you up"
"reya, im fine-"
"no you're not! you came to her for painkillers this morning, to mend your stomach cramps!"
"its probably tape worms"
"no shit", rotxo snickers
"or just a real bad constipation"
"rotxo, ao’nung please” kiri rolls her eyes, tired of their stupidity. “they clearly said that the bleeding comes from their other below"
not long after lo'ak snaps his head towards you, mouth agape. "holy shit. i think i know what's going on", then quickly moves closer to you. his face just a few inches from yours, his terrified look terrifies you
"my mother experienced the same things as you, when we were about to have tuk. stomach hurting, below bleeding- "
"no. fucking. way” rotxo clasps his mouth, “are you about to give birth?"
"what?"
ao’nung’s jaw dropped. “who knocked you up?”
“that’s it i’m taking you to the tsahik”
“STOP”
your friends went quiet.
they could only stare at your flushed face as your breathing went erratic.
you gulp, trying to calm yourself down. you close your eyes, inhaling a good amount of oxygent to fill your lungs and letting your mind go blank. then, you could open your mouth again
"as you all know, female bodies bear children in their uterus, yes?"
they all nod
"good. now the uterus, in human bodies specifically, would prepare for pregnancy every month-"
"so you need to get pregnant every month?"
"shut up rotxo"
"wait a minute" kiri cuts you off, "you’re not pregnant, but you’re currently bleeding. so the bleeding occurs when the pregnancy doesn’t happen?"
"yup. because i'm not pregnant, my womb's lining shreds out"
their terrified screams deafens you
#avatar#avatar x reader#avatar x you#neteyam#neteyam x reader#neteyam x y/n#neteyam x you#lo'ak#lo'ak x reader#kiri#kiri x reader#aonung#aonung x reader#tsireya#tsireya x reader#rotxo#rotxo x reader
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Oh shit :D ?
I just remembered! (Thank you, historical fantasy section!) But like? Serving and protecting The King, especially a HIGH KING, is quite literally not just an incredible honor... but it can sometimes be a person's Life Ambition?
Specificly a WORTHY king.
Perhaps they were denied in life. Perhaps they FAILED. And in their dying moments struggle with all they were to LIVE. To PROTECT. Perhaps the PREVIOUS king was a great and worthy ruler... but their heir is...
Unworthy.
Maybe they are born to an age without Rulers. Power shifting between hands in hidden halls. Unclear and murky. All they want is for their loyalty to MEAN something. For things to be SIMPLE.
The universe is large. The Infinite Realms? Unimaginably larger.
And Pariah Dark was a BASTARD.
Who would willingly swear to him? Fools! That's who! Every warrior soul worth ANYTHING gets as far AWAY from his Realm forsaken resting place as they can. Hides. Lest they be dragged in to his infernal, gods forsaken, cess pit of a so called "army"! *disgusted spitting noises*
But what does this mean? It means every trained FIGHTER... got the hell out of dodge. Oh, sure, a FEW refused. Like Pandora and her people. But most? The farthest side of NOWHERE, several layers down! Some still GOING! Better to be decried as cowards then have ANYTHING to do with THAT(said with loathing)!
It also means they weren't where Pariah could get to them when he woke. Couldn't help. Couldn't fight. Couldn't be commanded to kneel. Nothing. They removed themselves completely. Planned on CONTINUING to remove themselves. Preferably to the farthest reaches of forever, far beyond the bastard's gaze.
But! The whole REALM INFINITE felt it? When that... that hissing, acidic, malicious undertone? SLAMS back and away, like somebody's knocked a parasite from their backs. Replaced by coolness and starlight. Delicate balance and blood on your teeth. The pounding in your chest of HOPE.
It flutters so small across their backs, inside their chests. Washing away the old.
The King... feels tiny. Young.
.......what are they doing? Running like this. Hiding away like that will change anything. How long... when did...
There are so many of them now. A veritable army of souls, of all Ages and People's. Every armor and crest imaginable. They'd been so.. so REPULSED by Pariah... nothing else had mattered but to get AWAY. Where even ARE they? What YEAR is it? Does any of that matter?
The King.
Their Obsessions whisper. Loyalty. Service. Protection. Honor. You have left you post! Abandoned your DUTY! What are you DOING!?
They are AGHAST. They turn around at once. The King! How could they have ABANDONED the King!? Who is guarding him if they are all HERE?!
Himself!?
(Yes. Danny is fine. He is eating the "Thank You for keeping us all from dying to whatever the FUCK that was!" tamales Paulina's mom pushed into his arms on his way back home. He didn't even try arguing. He made eye contact and knew he would lose.)
(Why does he feel like something really, really bothersome is headed his way?)
It's UNACCEPTABLE. Unthinkable! The King? Unguarded? Where assassination attempts and nefarious PLOTS could occur?! What if someone tried to steal his eggs!? Or attacked him while his exoskeleton was molting!? They aren't entirely sure which species he is yet, but there are SO MANY NEFARIOUS PLOTS OUT THERE!!
*panicked honor guards*
Just? Imagine becoming king. And thinking "well, aside from the skeleton army I have to figure out, at least I don't have to manage anybody!" Only to *WABAM!* your ENTIRE GHOST COURT shows up like a week later. Turns out they were hiding from your predecessor.
You have a whole ass honor gaurd. Who REFUSE TO LEAVE YOUR SIDE. You have Chefs. Who WILL cry if you send them away. The Literal Best In The Multiverse are all following you around... YOU, a RANDOM TEENAGE, with Excited Shoujo Sparkles in their eyes... because you punched a jackass really, REALLY hard.
There is no way to make this stop. Your friends are laughing at you. The interior decorator wants you to look at swatches. What are swatches and why are you being harrased by them at 1am, you wonder? If you are Mean(tm) they throw themselves upon the floor and blame themselves for their Wicked, Evil, King-Upseting Ways and you can't even TELL if your being played here.
It's like being bullied by house elves. Or Miette.
Your parents are too excited by all the New Research (at least the reveal went well?) To SAVE THEIR SON, and your sister is HELPING THE ENEMY (Traitor!), so now you're being bullied into eating vegetables and studying more.
Then? THEN!! WHO SHOWS UP?! Like... five WEEKS late?! The Justice League. Gee! GREAT RESPONSE TIME, GUYS! Reeeal snappy! But ya, JUST missed the guy!
.......YES HES BEING SARCASTIC!!!
@hdgnj @stealingyourbones
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it means something
joel miller x f!reader | masterlist
summary: compliments don’t fall from his tongue, but they drip from his eyes. They land on your skin, healing scars that don’t show; they make you glow, and feel like something worth choosing.
to @joelsflannel, i took aspects of all your prompts. i tried to make it fluffy, her a little romantic, i tried to give you a quote that i hope you adore, with a man i know you already love. and i sprinkled in a hard day for you, but with some stress-easing fun to unwind with. merry christmas <;3
wordcount: 3.2k
warnings: softer!joel, soft sex (p in v), talks of love, jackson era joel, mentions of ellie, joel in a towel (like damn).
written for @pedrostories secret santa event.
You’re tired, drained.
Somehow, you find yourself able to drag your feet from the livelier part of Jackson to the quieter, almost more peaceful part. The soles of your boots draw lines behind you, all of which will likely be covered by the newly settling snow within the hour.
It's picturesque, this place. The kind of location you expect would have once been on postcards that people would be sent to loved ones saying 'wish you were here'.
You don't have to wish.
If your eyes weren’t like pinholes, you’d take a second to admire it.
Stamp your boots in one spot, and enjoy the crunch of it under your feet. A thing you’d do on any other day, if not for the fact, that you were so ready to be in the warmth, to be with him—to curl into him and breathe in his scent.
The kind of scent which buries itself into your nose, to your soul. It wraps its fingers around you and digs its clutches into you. Not that you complain. You'd bathe in it if you could, happily letting him smear it over your skin whenever the two of you have the chance.
It’s why you continue to move. It's why you force one leg in front of the other, muscles begging for reprieve.
By the time you’re up the steps, fingers wrapping around the handle of the front door, you realise how badly you wish to shed your layers. Desiring nothing more than to slide out of your coat, unwrap your scarf, remove the hat, gloves and second pair of socks.
Twisting the handle, the door doesn't fight letting you inside. Instead, it welcomes you. Allowing you to move quickly inside, more than anyone would expect from someone so fatigued—removing the layers, hanging each in turn on the rack beside his.
A sight which tugs at something inside you. It loops its fingers around that feeling within, gently pulling—it is all warm, unexplainable; all hard to describe, but the closest word is lovely, nice—welcomed.
That feeling had been born before the end of days, but it had been nothing but an ember then. Now, it was a roaring fire, all lit by him.
You're sure he knows. Not that either of you talk about it. It added to the long list of things you never speak, not for his sake, but for yours.
Even when you first began your… thing with him, you’d found it as difficult as him to know what to call it. Especially, when it had all happened so randomly, with no explanation or sight that it would occur. It just did.
Smiling, you allow yourself a moment to think back to it. How warm it was. How the setting sun smudged an array of shades across the sky, how you'd been bitter about something, mumbling under your breath until a noise cut through your dismay. His laughter. All gruff and born from his throat. It had expelled into the space between the two of you, cut through your bad mood.
Because it had been louder than you’d ever heard it as the two of you walked back, as you did on so many other nights. But that night had felt so different—and it was.
One moment you were staring, and the next his lips found yours, all chapped, but soft. His fingers around your cheek, whispering your name so gently. Stroking your skin, all worn, a bit rough.
Now, the two of you are a habit. A routine.
Nothing has ever been discussed, nothing ever exchanged. Just some nights you ate dinner with him—knee pressed against his. Sometimes your things sat along his in his home, bobby pins and whatever book you were reading.
Some days Ellie let herself into your house, had made a bedroom out of one of your spares, and sometimes she asked if you wanted to come round to theirs.
The only constant thing is that at least once every week, your limbs found themselves tangled with his. His mouth latched itself onto your neck, hand grasping at your breast, fingers pinching the peak of your nipple as he gruffly told you how hard you’d gotten him.
You liked it. Craved it.
Enjoyed the way you took him apart as he focused on making you a mess.
You liked seeing his salt and pepper curls cling to his forehead, liked running your nails through the hair on the back of his neck—back arched into him, feeling fuller than you’d ever imagined you could. Hearing his gruff voice in your ear, saying words he'd never say if he wasn't buried to the hilt inside of you.
But then, you only call him Joel when he's between your thighs too.
"Miller?"
His name rings around the first floor of the house.
Checking the package in your pocket, you sigh as the day drips from your tight muscles. Hand moving to rub the back of your neck, staring at Ellie's half-open comic and the pencils you'd lent her over the table.
You knew she wouldn't reply, not when tonight was movie night. A Christmas one, she'd told you. She had already let it slip she was going, told you as she kept watch on the door so you could continue your surprise for him.
Her request for you to join her faded when you looked up at her, likely seeing the same look which now greets you in the dust-covered mirror.
Kicking off your boots, and removing one layer of socks, you sigh at the way your feet can all of a sudden breathe—even inside his thick socks. Wiggling your toes, you smile as you begin to curl and unfurl them, before your hand finds the bannister, dragging yourself up the stairs until you reach his room.
His empty room.
Heart falling, you consider calling out again. Using his first name this time—letting each of the four letters carry around the house.
But, his bed looks comfortable. It calling to you. Somehow finding yourself lying on it, your face pressed into his sheets, your bones and muscles sighing in relief that you're in a bed.
Eyes wishing to flutter shut, body unwinding against the mattress, the sheets. It’s on the third heavy exhale, do you realise you hear water. It falls in pitters and patters, distantly, likely from the bathroom across the hall.
That’s when a smile curls across your face because you’ve always found comfort in the sound of running water.
Whether it’s rivers or rain, and showers or leaks. It reminds you of calmness, of things fading from reach—washing away, starting anew. Memories of times trying to colour themselves in your mind, fading before they do as sleep tries to coax you away.
The only thing which displaces the grip sleep has on you, is the comforting sight that comes to a stop at the foot of the bed.
Steam swirling around him, all broad shoulders and still damp skin—the hair on his chest, arms, and stomach, clinging in half-swirled curls and straight lines, the towel clutched at his hip.
The first time you saw Joel Miller naked, you’d almost lost the function to speak. All man—all soft and muscle simultaneously. Something constructed from fantasies, made in real life, carved and moulded by hands you think never thought he’d be real. You were close to not being able to speak all over again now.
Eyes tracing, outlining and shading—squirrelling away a sketch of him you’ll think about when the other side of the bed is cold and not filled with him.
“Didn’t hear you come in.”
You hum, lifting up onto your elbows, admiring him, finding him doing the same—even if you suspect you’re not half as good-looking right now as he is.
Least of all when he takes your ankle in hand, moving you sideways with him as steps between your legs now hanging off the bed, the fabric of his towel brushing over your jeans, his palms coming down on the mattress on either side of your neck, staring at you with a look of concern.
“Y’not been sleepin’?”
“Just been busy,” you reply, arms looping around his neck. “Not lots of time to rest.”
You suppose at some point between summer and winter, things became soft—less about need and company, and something along the lines of real.
In another world, one not ridden with fungi and death, you suppose it would have been labelled, added something which tied the two of you together—something meaning more to others than it likely would do to you.
Smiling, you force your eyes to open properly. Watching that look of hunger slowly bleed out over the concern, vanishing entirely when you smirk. If the two of you were different, you suspect you'd tell him you miss him. Tell him you've thought about him.
Instead, you whisper, “Want you, Joel.”
Even more so when you trace the words over his mouth. Aware of his hands on your jeans, and how he's popped open the button, how he's dragging down the zipper. The fabric freely slides from your skin as your hands slide down, dropping to the towel at his waist—thumb digging over it, all ready to pull, unravel it. “Need you.”
His eyes narrow swallowed in darkness. “Yeah?”
Nodding, you roll your lips, dragging your fingers to the tuck, undoing it, not taking your eyes off him. Seeing something in his eyes that is more than just reciprocation of the words spoken, but the ones left unsaid.
“You want me?”
However, you’ll have me.
You’re not sure you speak it, but you're sure he hears it all the same.
For how aloof people think he is, he’s a man who listens—not just to the crunch of branches and the rustle of trees, but to the things people don’t say. He hears their secrets and pulls away their lies. Skills he told you one night he levelled up in when the world tried to keep taking more than it had already.
You suppose it’s how he knows you, your body, what you want and what you crave.
More so as he tangles his tongue with yours, all heady—gripping him firm, tightly as his fingers snake between the two of you. Desperation thrumming through your fingers as you push them into his skin, into his muscles—feeling the coil tighten as he moves his fingers with nothing short of precision. Knowing you, having mapped you out, learnt your cues—it’s why you don’t fight it, the incoming wave ready to drench your taut muscles, let him undo you, unravel you out so you’re nothing but spread out for him.
He likes it like that, you can tell. Likes how you surrender to him, how you lay out for him, letting him move you how he needs you.
It used to be rough, desperate—pure carnal. But, it’s been replaced by something else, something not soft or romantic, but you’re sure it’s a distant relative.
Once you’d gotten a bruise on your hip that pulsed, shifted in shades from being nudged against your kitchen table. Now when he leaves them, he traces them with his thumb, hoping to suck out the sting. Because now you’re treated to comfort—too recently washed bedding and his fingers inside your cunt as your body bends into him, practically curls, sings, hums.
“Always so fuckin’ tight for me.”
Compliments don’t fall from his tongue, but they drip from his eyes. They land on your skin, healing scars that don’t show. Each lick of his gaze makes you glow, and feel like something worth choosing, having been picked, plucked—and placed on some mantle you don’t even mind being perched on.
Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, breathing a struggle, practically gasping, you mumble his name—murmur it, almost a whine. “Fuck me now, Joel. Want you inside of me.”
Then, you’re overwhelmed.
Bathed in both the scent of fresh soap, dewy skin and absolute fullness. Your legs wrapping, crossing at the ankles as he slides into the hilt—pausing, just as he always does, fingers brushing over your jaw until he’s tilting your chin.
That same look—the one you first witnessed after the kiss under the dusk.
It doesn’t vanish until you show him, either in a whisper of the magic words or a movement he can read as a spell. Your hips rolling, rocking—please, please.
Your hands take in the feel of him breathing, the way his chest expands, fills with the knowledge, the realisation, nails digging, almost all in order. One he answers, delivers, fucking stamps.
Joel makes your toes curl, makes white noise appear in your ears, and makes you forget every important thing you’ve ever filed away. All hot, scorching against your skin as you grasp him closer, hoping you’ll be smothered in burns—hoping the same when you swallow his grunts, his hisses off your name. His hips pistoning, aiming to send you over the edge before him, hands—riddled with the evidence of his survival and his new hobby keep you rooted, don’t allow you to wander off into bliss without him.
“Too good f’me, sweetheart.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” he grunts, right against your pulse, before he licks against what beats under your skin.
You snort amidst your whine, clutching all the strings which keep you whole as you close your eyes—banish him from looking into your soul. He’s seen all there is there, let him in before, provided flashes, evidence of your shattered soul and broken mentality. It comes to the surface easier here, when your walls suck him in, and your body calls for him in a chorus of pleading and begging.
Because you’re close—not needing too much from him tonight, the sight of him is enough. The knowledge of his existence, knowing he’s yours without confirmation.
“There, right there,” you moan, heels digging into the base of his back, feeling the jostle of him, the way he rears and fucks.
He smirks, shifting, just enough to make the head of his cock hit the spot which makes your thighs shake, tremble, fucking quake. His mouth still split open, words there on his tongue, all ready to drape over your skin—
But, you just feel it’s incoming arrival. All white-hot, blinding—too much pressure, yet needing just a little bit more. Your body is not yours, mind empty, gone, faded. You want to sink your teeth into him, bite down, cut into him and leave a mark like the ones he leaves inside you each time the two of you do this.
Because it means something. This. The two of you in this little house in fucking Jackson. Doesn’t it? Doesn’t it?
“Yea’,” he grunts, palm on your face, tilting you up roughly, forcing your eyes to open.
And you swear he smiles when they flash open. You swear it.
“Means somethin’, sweetheart. This—fuck—us.”
The words grind into you. As though he's the pestle and your mortar. Your breath is lost, unable to be grasped, your body hanging, pleasure a bigger force—swallowing the room, casting you in shadows and misting over you—until you cry out. Squeezing, fluttering.
Not able to see anything but his face, the look on his face—the twisted expression of his lips and the deepness of his eyes. More black, than brown—but they’re somehow still soft, still full of something you hope is pleasant and full of emotions.
It only vanishes briefly when he spills inside of you.
When he collapses on top of you—his heart hammering against your ribs. And, even if it isn’t the first time, you feel yourself still—pause, no rash movements, because this is nice, this is something you want without asking for it.
“Can’t believe I can hear y’brain already.”
Snorting, you roll your eyes, glancing over—finding his lips have slid into his cheek.
It gnaws at you, the reason for your lack of sleep. The thing which you've traded hours of rest for. That dormant part pushed to the edge by exhaustion, now awake and very much worrying.
“Got you something,” you whisper, biting your lip, watching his brows furrow and lines appear between them.
Standing up, you steal the dressing gown from the back of his door—the one you’d traded for months ago. The one which is far too big, even for him, making it only cosier when you borrow it. Shooting him a smile, you almost disguise it, worried it's far too soft, too normal, before you mumble about being right back.
It's a hurry to the front door, all feet hammering down on wooden steps before your hand digs in your coat pocket, retrieving the wrapped thing you’ve lost shuteye over.
When you enter, he’s under the sheets—hair at odd angles, looking both a mixture of energised and fucked out that you wish you could paint with your fingers, so you'd forever have it.
“Didn’t wanna give this to you on the 25th—just in case you popped a vein trying to figure out what it means.”
Kneeling on the bed, you take a levelling breath, before handing it to him. His eyes travelling from you to it, fingers taking it—all delicate, measured. Before he unpeels the ribbon, undressing it with more care than he often shows you, before it rolls free of the paper you managed to find. It catches the ceiling light, glinting, gleaming, the handle looking even more detailed in this light than under the candles you’d had to use to remain discreet.
In your hand, the knife had appeared large, and menacing. In his, it looked right.
Yet, his face looked as though it was anything but.
Enough for you to prod, needle. To nudge closer on your knees, to smooth out the sheets and then flick your lashes up, finding him already staring, weighing it up—whatever coated his tongue, had been written in his mind.
“Sweetheart… I don’t… I don’t deserve this—”
More words fall in silence, not quite spoken, yet somehow loud.
Enough for you to say his name, to rest your knee on the bed and deeply sigh.
“You…’m not a good man.”
You almost laugh, but you don’t. Crawling up, placing your hand on his chest, you take a shaky breath. “I’m not sure I care.”
And you don't.
Because it's easy to feel something for him, to love him. It's natural, there one day and the day after. It wasn't hard or difficult, but very fucking easy.
Your mouth even opens to say as much, but you close it again before a syllable is muttered.
Wrapping the gift, he moves it from between the two of you, to the bedside table. His fingers linger, hovering over the carved wood—the one which caused splinters and made your eyes almost cross over. “Y’should. M’not an easy man to love.”
“I disagree,” you whisper, fingers having slid up to the base of his neck, your fingers teasing his curls. “Since I’m pretty sure I already feel those things for you.”
His brows lift, and you smile—letting it speak the words you can’t say, and you’re sure he’s not willing to hear.
“Don’t sweat it, alright? You’re mine, I’m yours. Yeah?”
Nodding, he bites his cheek, placing the knife back into the packaging—moving it, replacing what he’d been holding with your wrist as he pulls you close.
“Got you somethin’ too.”
Nose bumping his, you shift closer, thighs finding themselves on either side of him—his hands finding a place on them, sliding up, callouses grazing on your skin, before squeezing.
“But y’gotta wait until the 25th. Like a good girl.”
Smirking, you cup his cheeks. "Okay, Miller. I'll wait."
an: merry christmas, i hope you love this <3
#pedrostoriesgift23#pedrostories#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller fluff#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x female reader smut#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfic#tlou fanfic#tlou joel x reader
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this is a difficult thing to have conversations about because it provokes really strong reactions in people for completely valid and understandable reasons, so please feel free to hit da bricks on this post whenever you want, but I do want to try and analyse the jonmartin slaps. we get three across 160, 169, and 172, and a line addressing it in 173, and then it never happens or comes up again. none of them come out of nowhere, and they mostly fly under the radar until 173 because they all broadly fit the "slapping someone out of a trance in an emergency" trope, but each of them slowly decreases in urgency.
the first time, the apocalypse starts up and martin comes back to find a passed out jon, can't wake him by making noise, and strikes him in a panic. this makes sense, this is a man who has entered a supernatural coma before and martin had no idea what was going on, so of course he'd jump to something desperate.
the second time, they're in a burning building, jude arrives while jon is still mid-statement, and when making noise doesn't work martin slaps him out of it. this makes sense, they were there for jude and if jon didn't come back to himself then she likely would have hurt them, though martin knew that her powers against them were limited.
the third time, jon is getting pulled into into a repeating statement instead of coming out on his own like usual, so martin speaks once or twice to try and get his attention, and then slaps him out of it. this... again, it makes sense, jon was getting trapped, but there was no immediate peril like before, martin just got freaked out and wanted to leave quickly. he seems to get that it was harsh because he apologizes for it, but they don't linger at all, martin just starts in on them having to leave immediately.
the last time it's mentioned is when they're on night street, during what is one of their most intense arguments. jon tries to talk about the suffering of the children there for longer than he needs to in order to make a point, martin cuts him off, and he pointedly says, "thank you for not hitting me this time." it never happens or is brought up again.
to our knowledge, jon doesn't say anything about the slapping until 173. he's not a guy who's known for speaking up when things upset him, he was amiably working with daisy within about a week of her trying to kill him, so it makes sense that he would just sit with this comparatively more minor thing. however, I do think it's relevant to note that, at this point in their relationship, martin will sometimes voice his feelings and boundaries (not listening to statements, not consenting to mind reading, worrying when jon expresses discomfort with his body), while jon doesn't. from the couple of times he does talk about his feelings this season, I think that tendency comes a few places: he has a hard time being aware of his emotions at all, he doesn't know how to evaluate his emotions' importance in comparison to others', he assumes his emotions are obvious and thus people already act with full knowledge of them, and the topic is just hard to make himself talk about. from what he says in 173, I think the slaps bothered him the entire time, but he made himself be fine with it until he was upset with martin for unrelated reasons and finally let it out.
as for martin's side, I do not think the slaps came from any kind of suppressed desire to hurt or wield power over jon. we've seen him when he's angry at jon, this isn't how he acts, he gets shouty and indignant but never violent. I'd even go as far as to say he doesn't do it in 173 because he's genuinely upset at jon and the situation they're in, and it would never occur to him to deliberately inflict pain on someone he cares about to assert control over them. the connecting line between all of them is fear from something that he wants jon to help him handle. the apocalypse starts, he is stuck inside one of his worst nightmares, and he's paranoid that the web took control of him. he's someone who is "always following, never leading" (170), and he gets tunnel vision when something scares him and his "leader" isn't there.
jon did need to be pulled out of all three of those situations, and words proved insufficient, and maybe a quick jolt of pain was the only thing that could have worked, but martin doesn't seem to consider what that would feel like from jon's pov. in my experience of relationships, if there's ever an unavoidable emergency where you do actually need to cross a line that you never would otherwise, you talk about it afterwards. you do a debrief where you say "I'm really sorry about that, I didn't see another way, I'll try and be better prepared next time." they do this for problems they have later on (177, 198), but martin doesn't do that here. jon's point-of-view just doesn't seem to occur to him. when jon expresses discomfort, he drops the tactic without a word; later, when he needs to anchor jon in the panopticon, he talks him through it before it can get too far. so, it's not about a lack of care for jon's feelings.
I think it comes down to a few things: a) his occasional tendency to treat people as a means to an ends and not think about their perspective. he's so glued to putting others first most of the time that when he stops, he can't find a middle ground and forgets that other people can have feelings about his actions. b) his problems with conceiving of himself as a person of any importance who is capable of doing anything, especially of doing harm. as a concept, "hurting jon" is the thing he would least like to do in the whole world, it is his nightmare scenario and literally the culminating moment of his tragedy. he finds it almost unthinkable, so the idea that he does it casually when he's scared doesn't cross his mind. one of his central worries at this point is that jon is now so powerful that he no longer needs martin, how could he hurt someone like that? he's not anywhere near a comparable level of importance, it's not like he has his own domain that he's not aware of because jon told him about it and he immediately rejected the information. he's powerless and could never bring himself to hurt the man he loves.
I just. think it's an interesting microcosm of some of the lows of their relationship. once the problem is discovered martin instantly takes the note and doesn't put it on jon to explain himself further or assuage his guilt, they are willing and able to adapt, but it still comes from some of their bedrock flaws. martin doesn't understand that he can hurt people, and jon has such an inflated understanding of his capacity to hurt people that it sabotages his self-worth and his ability to respond to pain and displeasure.
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Sumeru men when your sister/best friend tries to convince them to dump you for her.
Yes, I absolutely love topes like these. It gives so much room for drama or fluff or however the writer wants to take it. I decided on a less angsty/dramatic approach this time. Hope you're fine with that.
Characters Included: Alhaitham; Kaveh; Cyno; Tighnari; Scaramouche/Wanderer
Word Count: 4,1k
Also, Part two of this is out now! Read here
Content: Gender neutral reader; she/her pronouns for your best friend; she tries to convince them to dump reader; some cursing; Scara being refered to as Kuni(kuzushi);
Thanks for the request, hope you like what I made out of it!
Alhaitham
He would not even notice that your friend is seeing him like this
I honestly think that if Alhaitham were to ever be in a relationship with someone, he would be so whipped for that person
Alhaitham is a very logic driven man, he doesn't concern himself with feelings or other peoples opinions on him
So when he notices that he does feel something for you, he is as shocked as you are, once he finally decides to tell you
the early stages of your relationship are very rocky, Alhaitham has to learn a great many things about all this
you guys have many ups and downs until you finally find a way for you both to work together and it only got better ever since
you really didn't think much of it when you introduced your boyfriend to your friendgroup and one of the girls kept eyeing him
everyone, including you, knew that Alhaitham was a very beautiful man, so it was a common occurence for people to look at him
but she kept doing it, always eyeing him up and down, yet she never tried anything
until one night were you and your boyfriend went out with the rest of your friendgroup
"I'm going to use the bathroom. Be back in a minute.", you said to Alhaitham before you stood up and made your way over to the other side of the restaurant.
The atmosphere was pretty lively inside and everyone was talking among themselves. Everyone, except for one other person. Your friend had been eyeing Alhaitham this entire night again. He always tried to ignore it, but it was becoming rather annoying for him.
As he was about to say something, she suddenly scooted closer to him, right beside him were you were sitting just a minute ago. Then, she leaned in closer to him while she started to slowly stroke his arm.
"So, what do you say we ditch all those other losers and go back to my place?" She smiled at him while saying this and it only made Alhaitham resent her even more.
"No, I'm good.", he said, grabbing her by the wrist and pushing her hand away from him.
"Oh, come on. I know you want me. You keep looking over to me, every time we meet. Besides, I could give you so much more than that bitch (name) ever could."
She tried to lean in even closer, as Alhaitham was still holding her by the wrist. At this point, he was completely fed up with her. Without warning, he stood up from where he was sitting, gathering the attention of their entire table, but he didn't care. He had been dealing with her disgusting behaviour for far too long.
"No, you can not. And frankly, I'm not interested in cheating on my partner. Not now, not ever and especially not with someone as cheap as you are."
By the end of his little speech, you returned back to his side. You only heard what Alhaitham has said since he stood up, but you had a pretty good picture about what had happened in your absence.
You just looked at her dead in the eyes as you said: "Consider this friendship done. I don't want anything to do with you anymore."
And with that, you and your boyfriend gathered all of your stuff and left the restaurant together.
You later found out that all your other friends also distanced themselves from her, apologizing to you and Alhaitham for not noticing anything sooner.
But the two of you were just glad you didn't have to deal with her anymore.
Kaveh
He would make an entire scene about it
This man is dramatic incarnate with mood swings of hell accompanying him
I mean, we all witnessed his personality first hand in the archon quest. No one can tell me this man is not dramatic as fuck
anyways..
Kaveh believes you to be to most beautiful and most perfect person to have ever walked this earth
So for you, a being of absolute perfection in his eyes, to be in love with him and willing to be in a relationship with him?
Archons, someone please catch him because he is sure he's about to pass out on the spot
thinks of himself as the luckiest guy alive to have scored you. He has no clue on how he did it, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining about it.
You better believe that no one would ever come in between you guys. He would never allow anything like that to happen
It was a slow day for him at the Academya. Kaveh had been reviewing sketches all day long until now, yet nothing has been good enough for him until now. It wasn't like he had any deadline to retain, but this whole process of trying to create something new has been taking far too long for his liking and he felt like he was starting to go mad.
The walls of this office felt like they were slowly closing in on him, trying to bury him beneath them. Worst part was, that he forgot to make himself something to eat, so his stomach had been growling for a few hours now, demanding something to eat.
Yet Kaveh refused to stand up and get something before making at least a tiny bit of progress on this matter at hand. He had always been a very stubborn man, often neglecting himself for his work. You have been scolding him a lot for this behaviour, yet it was difficult for him to let go of it. He was just too used to it at this point.
A knock on his open office door brought him back from his thoughts. He looked up, a part of him hoping to see you there, standing in the door. He felt a little let down as he recognised the figure to be your best friend. The confusion came only a few seconds later.
"Huh? Can I help you with something?"
"Well, not really..", she sheepishly said as she approached him, confusing the man even more. Why was she acting this way? Thinking back, she never acted like that when he interacted with her before. What changed?
She stopped as she stood in front of him, shyly handing him a neatly packed box. "I noticed that you haven't eaten anything today, so I got something for you."
He looked at her, confusion finally turning into understanding. But he didn't want to make a scene, especially not with someone you considered a friend, so he tried to let her down gently.
"Sorry, I'm not really hungry right now." That he didn't want anything from anyone that wasn't you, he left unsaid.
"Oh come on. You haven't eaten the entire day. I'm trying to show you that I can take care of you, better than (name) can. They don't care for you, or they would be standing in my place."
Now absolutely furious, Kaveh was practically sprining out of his chair. Screw friendliness, no one was allowed to talk about you like that. And he was sure to tell her that.
"How dare you say something like that?! Aren't you supposed to be their friend? What kind of friend goes around talking about the other behind their back like that?
No, I want nothing to do with a personality like yours. That is disgusting. I'm not about to cheat on (name)! Why would I do something like that to the most wonderful person I ever met? And besides-!"
Kaveh was now in a full blown rant. He didn't even notice your friend running out of his office with tears in her eyes. Unbeknownst to her or your boyfriend, you were standing outside his open office, a lunch box for him in your hands. You heard the entire thing and your also saw your friend, well former friend, running out of his office. She didn't notice you though.
As you went inside, your boyfriend noticed something moving and when he saw you walking towards him, he immediatly went to you and started gossiping about what just happened while happily munching on his lunch that you brought him.
Yeah.. Kaveh was definitely whipped for you.
Cyno
Cyno is a very stoic lover
at least that's what other people think of him since he very rarely shows any form of emotion
so it's only natural for people to assume that he would be the same when entering a relationship with someone else
well.. those people would be very wrong about their thinking
Cyno, when in private or surrounded by others that he trusted, would become a somewhat expressive person
he still wasn't outright affectionate with you or proclaimed his love for you anywhere he went, but he was trying his damn hardest for you to show you that he loved you
that inculded trying to be on good terms with your friends and family
Cyno isn't the most social and outgoing person, but he tries to get along with the people that are important to you
he sometimes turns to them when he needs advice on what would be a good gift for you or stuff like that
moments like these would be the times where your friends can clearly see how much you actually mean to him
One of your friends has always been a drawn to closed of people who become lovestruck with their significant other and apparently, she decided that she wanted that for her as well. And in her mind, it just HAD to be your boyfriend, Cyno
He was on his way home after a long and stressful day at the Academya. Cyno couldn't wait to get home to you, to taste your cooking and just hold you in his arms again. It was all he needed to charge him back up again. Yet it seemed that fate had different plans with him today.
"Uhm, excuse me?", he was stopped by a very soft spoken voice a little bit behind him. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to find your best friend standing there, looking at him like she wanted to tell him something.
"Can I help you?", he asked, sounding rather cold but he couldn't help it. He was exhausted and he just wanted to get this over with and get home.
"Well, I just needed to talk to you. I was chatting with (name) the other day and they told me that they have been cheating on you with someone else. I'm so sorry but I just had to let you know!"
For a second, his eyes widened in absolute shock.
You? Cheating on him?
That couldn't be. You would never...
After the initial shock, his rational side took over Cyno again and he took a deep breath before turning to your best friend again.
"Thank you for telling me that. Have they also told you when this event happened?"
"Oh.. yes, they did. They said that it was like three days ago."
And now, Cyno was utterly confused. He remembered that day well. It has been a very slow day at work. So slow in fact, that after lunch he took the rest of the day off and went home to spend it with you.
You were still in bed since it had been your day off and you decided to sleep in for once. You were pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend back so soon and you two spend the entire day in bed.
So Cyno was now obviously confused by the statement that your friend made. It was obviously a lie, but why would she feel the need to lie about something like that? Didn't she know that accusations such as these could very easily lead to a break up?
While he was still pondering in his thoughts about the meaning of this, your friend saw this as her chance to get closer to him. She walked towards Cyno, slowly putting her hand on his arm and leaning her head against his shoulder.
"I'm so sorry you had to find out like this. Why don't you come with me? I can help you get over them..", she whispered and that's when Cyno got his answer. The reason as to why she would accuse you of cheating on him.
He immediatly recoiled from her, which seemed to surprise her.
"I don't know how you got that impression, but I would never choose you over them. The fact that you would sink to such lowly methods makes me even more sick.
Now, I suggest, you stay away, from me as well as from (name). I don't want to see you near them ever again. And if I find out that you spread any more lies about them, I will personnaly hunt you down and bring you to justice."
Your friend ran away quickly after that and Cyno could finally return home to you. You noticed that something was off about him and after a nice dinner, he told you all about the encounter he had with your best friend. Well, Ex best friend would be a better term from now on.
That night, you cuddled up closer to Cyno and thanked him for always looking out for you and protecting you.
Tighnari
As we all know, Tighnari is a fennec fox, and fennec foxes mate for life
So Tighnari would only date with the intention of marriage and a life together in mind
something like cheating would never even cross his mind
he would be over the moon if he would find someone that he would want to spend his life with in the first place
you can consider yourself very lucky if Tighnari falls for you
he is very conscious about that side of him and I think he would very much avoid dating for a long time in his life until he met that one person he is sure is meant for him
nothing in this world could ever convince him to leave you once he has made up his mind
of course Tighnari would talk to you about all of that before he would enter a relationship with you
for one to make sure that you were both on the same page, as well as to give you a way out if you were not up for all of that
those were also aspects about his life that he did not share with just anyone
especially regarding things about the fennec fox part of him. only very few and trusted people knew about certain things, like his mating habits
so of course, someone who had no idea about him and how his instincs work, would never fully understand
Tighnari has been looking forward to this day for so long now. You would finally return to him after weeks of being separated because of your studies. While he was understanding about it, he couldn't deny that he missed you greatly.
His more animalistic side has been crying for his mate for a few weeks now and the only form of contact you two had in that time has been through letters you sent each other. Tighnari has been treating each one of them with the upmost care, since it was the only thing he got to recieve from you.
So obviously, the day of your arrival back in Ghandarva Ville was a big deal for him. He has been antsy this entire day, very quick to jump when someone has been calling his name, always anticipating it to be you. Even Collei noticed his change in behaviour, but since she knew where it came from, she didn't worry too much about him, knowing that it would die down once you were finally back. The rangers would just have to deal with it for the time being.
In fact, everyone was very much excited and glad that you would be returning back soon, since they hoped it would finally help with Tighnari's extreme mood swings. They got especially bad the last few days. Well... everyone except one person was excited..
A person that you considered a dear friend was very much not happy about it. If it were her, she would be happy if you just died in a ditch and never returned, so she could take Tighnari for herself. She always had a thing for the Master of the forest rangers, but then you just had to get in the picture and take him for yourself.
She thought that now, while you were gone, it would finally be her time to make her move on him, to get him to see that she was so much better than you could ever be for him. But it was like Tighnari wasn't even paying attention to her. Not to her riskier outfits that she wore and not to the things she was saying to him.
It's like she didn't even exist in his world. Like she was just a nuisance passing through. So, if she really wanted something to happen, she would have to make a deciding move right now, before you returned.
And so, she made her way over to Tighnari's hut, not really sure what she would do, but she knew that she had to do something.
Upon entering, she saw the man sitting on his desk, scribbling on some papers in front of him.
"Tighnari?", she spoke and the man looked up at her, the hope in his eyes quickly washed away as he realised who it was. That did not sit right with her, but she tried to swallow down the fury welling up inside her.
"Yes? Do you need something?", he asked, sounding agitated.
"I do, in fact. I wanted to talk to you about something."
Sighing, Tighnari now turned towards her, facing her with a slightly bothered expression, while gesturing for her to continue.
"It's about (name). I want you to choose me over them. I'm so much better than them and I could make you happy. They even left you alone for weeks on end while I have been here with you, trying to get you to notice me. Tell me, what's so special about them? What do they have that I don't?"
It was silent for a few seconds while she waited for an answer from him. She thought that the silence was something good, that he finally saw her for what she could be for him. But when she raised her head to look at Tighnari, the look of utter disgust on his face told her a different story.
"Well, there are many things that you don't have, but we can start with your disgusting personality. (Name) would never even dare to think of themselves as better or above other people. The fact that you think yourself better than them makes me sick.
Now listen closely.. I will never choose anyone over (name). I promised to take care of them an I will see to it that I uphold this vow. So get out of here before I completely loose my temper."
Without another word from her, she ran out and left a very strained Tighnari back in his hut. He was still sorting through his thoughts when a few minutes later, you walked in, greeting your boyfriend after a long time apart.
Tighnari was instantly overjoyed, forgetting all about the events that happened prior to this. He welcomed you in his arms again and refused to let go again. He did not work anymore on that day, and instead spent the rest of it cuddling with you in his bed, talking about all the stuff that happened while you two were apart.
As for "your rival", she got transfered back to the Academya where she would continue her studies, far away from you and Tighnari. But neither of you cared very much about that.
Wanderer/Scaramouche
God, the patience you would need to get into a relationship with him
he never had a very good influence in his life after Niwa and the people from that village, so you will have to be patient and understanding with him
He is trying his best, but it's difficult for him to feel vulnerable
he always considered his feelings as a sign of weakness, so he can't just easily accept them now
It's a process and he will need your help to get through it, even if he would never ask for your help out loud
his pride is in his way quite often, but he tries to tone it down
I see him as a very protective and clingy lover
He would want to be by your side at all times. He tells himself it's to make sure that you don't betray him, but you both now it's because he's starved for any kind of attention and affection you give him
for wanderer to get into a relationship, he would have to really, really trust you, otherwise he would not even consider the thought
so of course he would never consider the possibility of a relationship with someone who was practically a stranger to him
The Wanderer was currently out on a run to get some errands for you. Even though he protested, said you shouldn't have forgotten stuff that you obviously needed, his words were betrayed as he was already on his way to the door.
The thing is, you wanted to cook for him today but silly little you forgot to put a few things on your shopping list that you would need for the dish you were planning to make.
So, your boyfriend, chivalrous as he is, went out to the Grand Bazar to get them for you. He planned on a quick trip, only purchasing the things he needed to, so he could return as quickly as possible.
"Hey, Kuni!"
But fate seemed to have different plans with him, as he heared this joyful voice almost scream his name. He turned around to see a friend of yours running towards him, her arm in the air as she was waving at him.
"What do you want from me? And who told you you could call me that?"
Truth is, he never really liked her. She always looked him up and down and the way she was talking to you never really set right with him. But, he refrained from saying anything, not wanting to upset you or anything. Now though, he wished he wouldn't have acted so friendly with her.
"Aww, come on. Don't be so grumpy, Kuni. I know you like it when I call you that."
Did she... try to sound seductive right now? Judging by the way she was clinging to him and batting her lashes at him, he would guess that yes, she was trying to seduce him. Not that he would ever agree to any of it, but he wanted to see how far she would be willing to go.
"Yeah, you're right.. I do... like it.." Every fiber of his being wanted to recoil from her and throw up in disgust after he said those words. It felt so wrong to him, but it seemed that she didn't notice that.
In fact, she looked delighted to hear those words leave his mouth. "I knew it. I knew that you would come around. It was obvious that (name) wasn't the right person for you. After all, they can never do anything right, wouldn't you agree? Honestly, I'm just glad I stayed friends with them long enough to get to know you. We match so much better, don't you think?"
Ohh, now she was in for it. He would not just stand here and allow her to disrespect you like that. Not on his watch.
"Now listen here, you little bitch. I know you did not just say that about someone who consideres you to be a friend. I don't know how you got the idea that I could ever be into you, but you're very wrong.
So get that into your thick skull, I will never want someone like you. And I suggest you better leave (name) and me alone from now on. Unless of course, you want to find out what I can do to make your life a living hell.
Now, run along, and never come back."
Suddenly frightened, she slowly backed away from him before turning and bolting away like the devil itself was chasing after her.
The Wanderer only sighed as he finished up with the shopping list and returned back to you like nothing had happened.
The next few days, you noticed that your friend avoided you like the pest, but when you went to your boyfriend to ask if he knew if anything had happened, he merely shrugged his shoulders, pretending that he didn't know anything.
#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin scenarios#genshin headcanons#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact scenarios#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham#alhaitham x you#kaveh x reader#kaveh x you#genshin impact kaveh#genshin impact alhaitham#cyno x reader#cyno x you#genshin impact cyno#tighnari#tighnari x reader#tighnari x you#genshin impact tighnari#scaramouche#wanderer#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#scaramouche x you#wanderer x you#genshin impact scaramouche#genshin impact wanderer
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fragility — sunday.
summary: disagreements may often occur with sunday, but the two of you seem to always find a way to resolve it. (or, in which sunday is a little too devoted; lucky for you, you'd never have it any other way.)
notes: sunday character study, reader and sunday are arranged to be married/betrothed; not canon compliant, sunday might be ooc and i do not apologize he must be down bad 💯 reblogs are appreciated ! would love for u to tell me what you think about this experimental fic hehe
Sunday has always been the picture perfect image of control.
It is in the way his suit never has a single wrinkle, save for those he intentionally keeps to exude a more tolerable presence to The Family—and even then, he has always smoothed out every crinkle, every flaw; whenever they wouldn't look. It is seen in the way Sunday fights to calm his voice after a particular burst of his emotions, the way he almost obsessively tends to his plans to make sure nothing shall go awry.
If Sunday is a lone bird flying in the sky, then his control over himself, his conduct of his emotions is the chain that binds him to the earth below. Grounding him oft when he himself cannot.
If his sister is akin to a bird that spreads her wings to freedom, then Sunday shall clip his own, chain them down onto the earth if only to protect himself.
“Six gatherings.”
“Eight.”
However, there are often exceptions to his near flawless aspect of self-control; situations in which back him up into a corner, unable to retort.
“Seven gatherings and no more.” Like now, when you were being—for a lack of a better term—an extreme pain in the neck. Sunday exhales a weary breath.
“You can't be serious.” You frown at him. “Surely they'll be satisfied with six? They don't even care!”
“It would be best if we were to leave no possibility unaccounted for.”
“Sunday, you cannot subject me to any worse horrors other than prancing around being buddy buddy with those two-faced fogeys!”
He snorts at the barb. Trust that you use your rather extensive lexicon to state your mind in the most absurd of ways, most especially in the rather glitzy and pompous Family gatherings you both are required (read: forced) to apply yourselves to. Sunday should really ought to put in a word about it to you.
(He does not, however, tell you that your opinion is wrong.)
“I assure you that you will live. Acting like I'm sending you to your death is an immense exaggeration.”
Sunday drowns your complaints and listens to it with one ear. He knows, and trusts that you would relent anyway, so there was no reason in arguing over it any further.
Because, despite the innumerable ways in which your very existence rattles his, turning his carefully constructed world upside down in jeopardy, Sunday cannot stray away from anything you request.
(it would be blasphemy to do so. a sin he would never dare to oppose. you had that effect on him.)
You lounge leisurely at his personal quarters as though it belonged to you (it would, Sunday corrects himself, it will) and meet his eyes, liquid gold taking your existence in its entirety, as though it would be ripped away from him in an instant. He sees your eyes soften, just for a bit.
You put your fisted hand onto your cheek, squishing it slightly as you sulk. Sunday thinks he's finally gone mad when he considers running his fingers through them. (Would it be as soft as he had dreamed?)
Even with your face scrunched in a grimace, you are as radiant as gems and jade; your emotions splayed out before him like a clear spring reflecting the bright sky. (You are a reflection of the freedom he longs to embrace.) As wonderful as everything that Sunday is not.
Sunday knows your distaste is rooted in your aversion to the feigned lies and the prospect of sugarcoating your relationship as one of duty and not true affection (despite it being the complete opposite, he likes to assume) and being put on a pedestal by others.
But compliance is his owner, and Sunday is its dutiful servant.
“I know you're less than inclined-” Sunday starts to say, emphasizing the less. “-but now, with the Charmony Festival within full preparation, they want to see us there. United, as-”
“-As a happy pair.” you finish the thought with a rueful smile. “Something to calm them down while everything is in shambles. How characteristic of them.”
He nods. Meeting your gaze has always made him weak-willed. Sunday thinks that you could bring him down to his knees in reverence if you wish; he would not mind. “I know it goes against your principles.”
Because you believed in truth, that the chaos that Sunday abhors has a beauty to it he cannot understand; that you were a delightful paradox Sunday doesn't want the ugly claws of his control to grasp onto.
(He does not deserve you.)
“While I would gladly endure any gathering if it's with you…” you start, and his heart makes that familiar leap, like wings flapping in his stomach. “I don't want to keep up appearances to those who only see through the surface.”
���Then you shouldn't.” Sunday takes time to stand and stay seated next to you, if only to feel the actuality of you at whole. “You know better than anyone what we are.”
After all, Sunday sees no use in looking at the gazes of others when you are always at the forefront of his mind.
“...I know.” Sunday stiffens when you lean your head on his shoulder, your head brushing by the wing below his ear. He shudders. “I’m aware. More than anyone else.”
Your voice flutters in the wind like a bird soaring through the sky, and you illuminate his world in a stream of color. This is the most he gets to an ardent declaration of love, and Sunday would be damned if he would not reciprocate in any way.
(He does not deserve you, but you make it a point to disagree otherwise, every time.)
“I’ll be by your side at every step.” Sunday says, lacing his gloved hands in yours as a promise. “You need only be by my side.”
In the present, and even in the future, Sunday hopes. Your gentle squeeze of his hand is the content of your answer.
“I can't really say no to you, can I?”
Sunday chuckles. “I should say the same.”
If his mind is bound to seek control, then his soul is bound to seek your warmth. Sunday thinks this is as it should be. As he hopes will always be.
You laugh. “Eight gatherings it is. Though I suppose in the future it would be even more than that.”
“Mm. We shall hope it to be so.”
“Oh, it definitely will.”
All by his side, where his heart shall whisper your name and where your soul shall be forever intertwined with his.
© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
writing process for this was vv inspired by a tiktok audio that i can't remember the name from but it encapsulated sunday so perfectly my keyboard started typing lol
#mhie's spirals#sunday x reader#sunday honkai star rail#sunday hsr#sunday x you#sunday x y/n#hsr x reader#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr imagines#hsr drabbles
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