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huramuna · 5 months

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blue dove - oneshot request.

dark aemond x best friend / modern

request: Helloo! Can I get a dark modern aemond who is in love with best friend reader and is possessive and jealous whenever reader meets a guy and aemond does everything he can to keep reader to himself only with smut plss😊😊🙏

warnings: smut (specifics under the cut), possessive aemond, gaslighting, manipulation, toxic dynamic, aemond is his own warning here. reader isn't described, she/her pronouns. work is 18+, minors do not interact or you shall be smited.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: this is my first time posting smut & also writing it in a long time-- leave a like and comment if you liked it! <;3

paparazzi - lady gaga • baby hotline - jack stauber's micropop

content: p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, pussy slapping, hair pulling, copious biting, creampie, breeding kink, belly bulge

She had a few constants in her life, things that would never change, no matter how hard she tried.

One; she would never be able to drive herself anywhere. She was befallen to being a frequenter of public transport, cycling, and whatever other benign thing she could rope herself into that didn’t involve getting behind the wheel of a car.

Two (which tied into one); she would always suffer from crippling anxiety. She didn’t know why she was this way, nor could she fix it. She tried every cure— smoking, medication, meditation, hypnosis, and other obscure treatments. She used to be a bright and sprightly child, shining with confidence and determination— she had all the makings to become something special.

She was in all of the gifted classes, read well above her grade, was an eloquent writer and an aspiring artist. Until, of course— something in her snapped. Around the age of hitting puberty, rather than blossoming into what she should’ve been, she wilted. Wilted into a shadow of what she was, who she was. Suddenly, her gifted mind turned into one that was average at best, and at her worst, stuck into remedial classes.

She hardly remembers who she was— and dreams of what could’ve been.

The third thing tied everything up into a bow; Aemond Targaryen. Her best friend since elementary school, they’d always been glued at the hip. Even now, almost two decades later. He had seen her at her best and her worst— and so had she.

They were both on the smaller side as kids, scrawny and short— this made them an easy target for bullies and the like; how it usually goes. After Aemond lost his eye, she became fiercely protective over him, even throwing out a few punches and getting beaten into the dirt if anyone said anything untoward to him.

That was when they were kids, though— when she was fierce and lively. Their roles have somewhat reversed now. Aemond grew into himself, shooting up to well above her height, while she stayed sort of small. He protected her when anyone looked at her the wrong way, even if she didn’t see it.

They were both twenty-six now, sharing a birthday just a few days apart. They were always close in everything.

It was a crisp autumn day, her oversized sweater rippling slightly in the growing breeze. Shivering, she knocked on the door of Aemond’s flat.

“Aem,” she hummed softly, “I’m here.”

A few moments later, the door opened— in all his six foot tall glory, Aemond. His hair was down and a bit messy. A plain white shirt and gray sweatpants were his lounge clothes of choice, it seemed.

He perked a brow, “Didn’t feel like using your key?” he asked, moving aside so she could walk in.

“Oh— yeah, the key,” she scratched the back of her head with a halfhearted chuckle, “I forget— and I don’t wanna just barge in…”

“You aren’t barging,” he mused with a small smirk, “I gave you a key for a reason— I trust you. Aegon doesn’t even have a key.”

She kicked off her boots, “Well, Aegon is an idiot— he would just come here to raid your fridge and steal all your… expensive liquor,” she giggled, genuinely. Unwrapping the scarf from her neck, she instantly felt herself warming back up, “I don’t get how you like that stuff anyhow— it tastes like… spicy brown piss or something.”

Aemond snorted, “It's top shelf whiskey, my dear. Not ‘spicy brown piss’ as you so lovingly put it,” his hand reached out to her bare neck, thumbing over her throat for a moment before he walked towards the balcony, sliding the door open. Lighting up a cigarette, he took a deep drag, “You just don’t have a sophisticated enough palate to get it, dove.”

She let out a mock indignant snort, moving to the couch, “I have a sophisticated enough palate when it comes to things that are actually good— like well-marbled beef or earthy mushrooms stewed with thyme and garlic. Not alcohol,” she scrunched her nose, “That shit will kill you, Aem,” her eyes flicked to his cigarette. Another one of her one-and-done vices she used to have— her and Aemond started together, as she’d heard it might help her anxiety. It didn’t help, and tasted horrible, so she quit the next week.

Aemond, however, didn’t quit. That was eight years ago. When Aemond fancied something, he never gave up; that she knew for a fact. He gave one of his signature toothy grins, blowing smoke in her direction, “Lots of things will kill me, dove. If I die from smoking, so be it.” he took another drag, a deep and performative one.

She let out a quiet ‘hmpf’ noise, grabbing her phone out of her pocket. They were used to sitting in silence with each other, leaving one another to their own devices— as long as they were in the room together, it was fine.

Aemond watched her as he finished up his cigarette. When she would look up, he would look away, as if he wasn’t just staring a hole through her. She could feel his gaze— his blind, milky blue eye boring into her, while his undamaged eye observed her like she was a specimen underneath a microscope.

Every expression, every minute movement of her face was absorbed by him. He knew her better than she knew herself— and that was fine with her. She hardly knew herself anymore, anyways.

Her jaw clenched as she looked through her phone, scrolling through messages. The quietest of sighs left her, deflating her ever so slightly.

“What is it?” Aemond asked, suddenly appearing next to her, settling down on the couch.

She blinked profusely a few times— he was so silent when he wanted to be. She locked her phone and put it aside, “Oh— that guy I’ve been talking to… we were supposed to go out tonight. Apparently something came up…” her voice trailed off as she looked down at her hands, cracking her knuckles idly; one of her nervous habits.

Aemond’s jaw clenched, his hand flexing slightly— then he relaxed, “I’m sorry, dove,” he murmured, “Maybe we can do something tonight, just the two of us? I’ll order Thai.”

She continued to crack her knuckles, “I-I dunno— I don’t want to be a burden. We don’t have to do this every time a guy cancels on me…”

It had become a longstanding tradition for takeout at Aemond’s flat when she got ghosted by a guy— which admittedly, happened a lot.

His hands were on hers in an instant, eclipsing them and prying them apart, “Stop that,” he said firmly, “You are not a burden. You never will be a burden. I won’t hear another word of that shit, got it?”

She fidgeted slightly at his harsh tone, but nodded, “… can we get Italian tonight instead of Thai?”

His tone and demeanor softened instantly at her acquiescence, “Of course, dove.” he gave her hands a quick, firm squeeze before letting go— one of his hands resting against her neck, arm wrapped around her.

They feasted and laughed all night, watching some of their favorite shows; overdramatic reality cooking competitions. They bickered back and forth about who should’ve won, who should’ve cooked what and who they think should’ve been eliminated.

At the end of the night, she was exhausted, leaning against him. She had eaten enough pasta to feed a small horse.

“Don’t think I’ll make it back to mine tonight Aem,” she mumbled, her forehead pressed against his arm, “Too bloated. Might fall asleep on the train if I try to go home— can I stay here tonight?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” he said softly, his hand caressed behind her head. He always got touchy-feely late at night like this, and she didn’t wholly mind— it made her feel special.

She usually wasn’t keen on physical touch from anyone but Aemond, no one else got it right. She had a few flings in college and they all ended sourly— all of her romantic ventures seemed to end sourly. Aemond, however, was always there— always there to pick up the pieces, to tell her that she is worth it, to make her feel like she mattered.

It was him— always him, wasn’t it?

The realization dawned on her, making her heart ping-pong in her chest. She… loved him. She did, didn’t she?

“You can sleep in my bed, if you want,” he suggested softly, unaware of her inner turmoil.

She felt like her eyes bulged out of her head at that proposition, “Uh-uh,” she managed to croak, “Don’t wanna take up your space n’ all that…”

He didn’t press the issue. “Goodnight, dove.”

She wrapped herself in a blanket, getting comfortable on the couch— as much as she could, anyhow. Eventually, from sheer exhaustion alone, she drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up, she didn’t know what time it was— it was still dark outside. She blinked a few times, looking around. It took her a minute to remember she was at Aemond’s.

Her eyes, blurry with sleep, landed on a figure— Aemond, illuminated in the darkness across from her. He was holding his phone— no, that was her phone.

He was looking intently at something, holding his phone in his free hand, typing something into it, obviously from her phone.

Why was Aemond on her phone? Not that she minded, of course, she had nothing to hide— but what… what would be so interesting that he was saving from her phone to his?

“Aem?” she murmured softly, “What are you doing?”

A moment of panic went over his face— she caught this immediately, as she could count all of the times on one hand she’d ever seen him make that look. That is when she knew something was wrong.

“Nothing, dove— go back to sleep.” he cooed, trying to sound as soft and soothing as possible.

But it didn’t work, her guard was up, her suspicions raised. She got up from the couch, “Aemond. What are you doing?” she asked again, a bit more firm.

“Nothing— I just needed… to get something off of your phone.” he said, still obviously hiding something.

“What would you need off of my phone?” she pressed, walking up and snatching it back from him.

On the screen— it was her dating app profile. The list of messages of all of the people she’d talked to were pulled up, including all of their personal information.

“Um… what— Aemond, why are you looking at all of their profiles?”

He stared at her for a long moment, his brow furrowed. He finally spoke after a stretch of silence, “I had to. I had to, you know. They aren’t worthy of you, none of them.” he said, his voice taking a serious note.

Shivers ran down her spine, “Aem— what the fuck are you talking about?”

“They needed to be told that you were already spoken for— that they needed to back off.” he moved a bit closer to her, his closeness suddenly oppressive.

She shook her head, still not understanding, “I-I don’t… wh—,”

He was on her then, grabbing her hands as they went to crack her knuckles, his grip on her tight, “They aren’t fucking good enough for you— no one is— no one except me, dove,” he growled low, his one seeing pupil blown wide like a predator, “You really think that every man you tried to go out with willingly ghosted you? Sweetheart, you can’t be that dumb.”

Suddenly, it all began to make sense. All of her failed attempts to date after college were failures— and it wasn’t because of her. It was because of Aemond.

She had spent years thinking that it was her fault, her inadequacies—

“Look at me,” he grunted, one of his hands going to her chin, forcing her gaze upward. Tears were streaming down her face, “I did it for you— for us— I am the only one capable of loving you,” his thumb caressed her bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly, “You think that anyone else on this planet would be able to handle you— besides me? I know you better than you know yourself. No one else would be able to handle all of your little quirks, your insecurities, your fears, your anxieties— but I will and I do.”

She sniffed, “I-if you liked me that way— why wouldn’t you just tell me?”

The pad of his thumb swiped the gathered wetness from her lip, “I’m patient— I’ve been patient— I needed you to realize,” his thumb slipped between her lips, pressing down onto the soft of her tongue, earning a small whimper from her, “That I’m the one— that you and I were made for each other, hm?”

She garbled a tiny reply, but it didn’t come through from his digit suppressing her tongue. Even through this— it felt like betrayal in some aspect to her— she couldn’t help but feel… warmth. Something akin to sickening elation. The good and bad parts of her were fighting, her emotions swirling within her.

He removed his thumb from her mouth, smearing her lips with her own saliva. He craned his neck downward, “Don’t you want me, dove?” he whispered, his lips ghosting over hers. They were exchanging breaths, sharing their oxygen between one another without actually touching yet.

She was still crying— but she nodded slowly, “Y-yes,” she murmured. After all— he was right, wasn’t he? Who else would deal with her? Who else would love her?

He lifted his hand to her neck— he always had loved to rest it there, why hadn’t she seen it before? — his fingers pressing ever so gently against her skin. He closed the almost nonexistent gap between them, their lips pressing together.

She hummed a tearful whimper as they kissed, the delightful warmth spreading throughout her body, mingling with the sting of betrayal and disgust. Eventually, his tongue invaded her mouth, lips moving together as if he wanted to fully consume her. She’d never been kissed so desperately before— it was as if he was starving.

They fell into a rhythm, his hand lowering from her neck down to her collarbone, tracing the very being of her. She didn’t know what to do with her hands— her fists were white-knuckled, clenching at his shirt as if to hold on for dear life.

His large hand palmed her breast, immediately eliciting a response from her in the form of a gasp. She felt him smile against her mouth, pulling back ever so slightly, “So responsive for me already— I knew you’d be,” he hummed, his thumb rasping over her sensitive nipple, causing it to harden immediately. It sent shivers straight to her core, where she felt a growing wetness.

He shifted them back to the couch, placing her on his lap, “I’ve been waiting for this for years,” he growled, nipping at the soft flesh of her neck, “I’ve been in love with you since we met— all of that time. I’m a patient man,” he continued, leaving little red marks on her skin, biting gently, then kissing, “I let you have your fun in college— I let you fuck your way through a few guys, letting that first one take your virginity— should’ve been me,” Aemond bit down into her shoulder, slowly moving his way down her body. His hands lifted her shirt off easily, practically snapping the wires of her bra in tow. “Now, my dove, we are going to make up for lost time, hm?”

He tossed her bra aside, her breasts, well endowed as she was, rested heavily upon her chest. He pawed at one right away, her nipple pebbling into a stiff peak.

“Why didn’t you tell me— why,” she mewled. It’d been so long since she’d been touched this way, and never so attentively. Her skin felt like it was on fire.

“I needed you to realize it,” he explained, biting at her nipple. She let out a cry, earning a laugh from him, “I only needed a little more time. Too bad you’re a light sleeper, hm?”

Her body felt tight and hot, as if she was going to melt if she didn’t relieve some of the growing ache between her legs. She felt his hardness— pretty significantly, in fact— pressing against her pelvis. Almost out of primal need, she began rocking her hips against it, hoping for some friction.

“Needy girl,” he admonished, “But I’m a giver, aren’t I?” his hand slipped beneath the waistband of her pants, down to her damp core. “So fucking wet for me already, hm? Just needed me to tell you that I love you and you’re practically gushing in my lap.”

His fingers parted her folds, honing in on her clit almost immediately. She fidgeted, pressing her head to his neck, breathing heavily against his skin. He worked at a slow pace at first— but she didn’t need much to begin barreling towards her first peak.

Aemond’s free hand snaked into her hair, yanking her back from his neck, “Don’t hide,” he purred, “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers, dove.”

She looked a mess, her face red and tear stained, kiss swollen lips parted as she whimpered in pleasure. She wasn’t loud in bed by any means— her little whines and moans were enough.

The cord within her began unraveling, slowly, slowly, as the pleasure intensified. He was able to achieve a level of euphoria that she could never do with her own fingers, nor could any other man.

“Aem, Aem— f-fuck,” she cried, tears still streaming down her face, “S’close, p-please.”

He grunted a moan in response, as if the act of getting her off was getting him off in turn, “Come on, let go for me.”

The pleasant feeling of wetness turned into a rush of pure ecstasy as she reached her peak, whimpering unintelligible praises while struggling to keep her eyes open.

“That’s it,” he cooed encouragingly, “Fucking beautiful.”

He kept up his ministrations on her pearl well after she came, causing her to squirm, “Too much, too much,” she murmured, a fresh string of tears falling down her cheeks.

The sight of her tears made him throb a bit— it was a wonder he lasted this long without fucking her already. He stopped his assault on her clit, prodding his fingers into her mouth so she could taste herself, then he licked them clean himself.

Shifting their positions slightly, he laid her down gently on the couch on her stomach as he pulled his sweatpants down. She glanced back, zeroing in on his member— he had a sizable length and girth, his tip messy and wet from her grinding earlier. Her mouth felt dry and wet all at the same time and she swallowed harshly.

He wiggled her pants and panties down her legs, her now soaked undergarments sticking to her folds. He gave her a playful swat between the legs, causing her to jump.

“So sensitive,” he hummed, pulling up her posterior in the air. His hand smacked lightly against her bottom before gripping it, “This; is mine,” he moved his hand down between her legs, pinching her clit, “This is also mine.”

She let out a mewling moan, keening under his possessive declarations— she found herself not only blooming in pleasure between her legs at such language, but her heart wrenched and wrought against her chest in a delightful pain. She wondered if this is what it was like to be in love.

“This changes everything, you know,” he said as he positioned behind her, moving the head of his cock between her legs, gathering the wetness there and creating a sticky friction. “There isn’t going back to the way things were— you are well and truly mine now, dove.” he cooed before easing himself inside of her, hissing lowly at the tight fit.

He bottomed out in her quickly, his member prodding against her sweet spot. Aemond let her adjust to his size for a minute— while also focusing to ensure that he didn’t come immediately. After a few moments, she relaxed— so he began to move.

His pace was slow and meticulous, filling every nook and cranny of her, committing the shape of her to memory. He paid close attention to when she would clench when he hit that spongy sweet spot, her hand going to the arm of the couch to find purchase, anything so she still felt like she had control.

Her mouth was agape, strings of saliva wetting the leather couch. “A-Aem— p-please,” she simpered, asking for what— she didn’t know, she just needed more.

He took it as a spur to increase his pace, the room filled with her tiny whines, his grunts and skin slapping against skin. His arm hooked under her chest and pulled her back, switching their position to where she was pressed against his back. His legs hooked between hers and pried them open, “Keep them open, sweetheart,” Aemond bit into her neck once more, leaving a few more additions to her growing collection of marks by him, “Need more of these on you, then there won’t be a,” his stopped as he groaned, his pace quickening, “fucking doubt in anyone’s mind who you belong to– you’re mine, always been mine– fuck.” his mouth was upon her ear, muttering sweet nothings to her as his free hand pressed her flat to his chest. He thrusted upward, taking her hand and putting it over her abdomen– the bulge of him inside of her could be felt, “Mine have, mine to hold, mine to fuck– mine to breed,” his breath quickened– he was close.

The double entendre of feeling the bulge inside of her and the head of his cock bullying that sweet, spongy spot just right– pushed her over the edge for the second time. She clenched and fluttered around him, earning an animalistic growl from him as he came, ropes of his seed coating her walls.

They stayed like that for a while, his cock softening inside of her while she regained her breath, coming to terms with the situation she was in. Soon enough, he pulled out, his seed dripping out of her. The stimulation to her already battered core made her squirm.

He leaned forward, still encircling her, encompassing her in his arms. “Tell me that you love me.”

She didn’t know when she started crying again– or perhaps she’d been crying the whole time. She sniffed, acquiescing, “I love you, Aemond.”

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ryuichirou · 2 months

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Hello, it's been a while, right?😉

So..... After reviewing images of KaliJami and AzulJami and I thought "Why not combine these two ships into one?", so I would like a headcanon of KaliJamiAzul ABO + Yandere Kalim and Yandere Azul

Hi! It’s good to see you again. Sorry for the late reply :) As always, I’m slow with headcanons…

Two yandere boys PLUS ABO?? Damn. I would say that that’s a tall order, but actually when I think about it, I picture a very specific scenario in my head. I guess it works surprisingly well with them lol

Here is out previous post about ABO yandere!Kalim + a KaliJami ABO HC list. People really do like this theme for these guys huh.

Out of the two alphas, it was Azul who got “crazy” and territorial first, because Jamil kind of drives him nuts: he is an unclaimed omega and smells like one (and Jamil’s suppressants really don’t work for Azul – his sense of smell is heightened because he’s a merman), but he acts as if he isn’t reacting to his alpha smell at all. So it must be because of Kalim! Which means that even if Azul isn’t successful in his advances towards Jamil, he does everything to rub his smell on him and shoo Kalim away. And a lot of times he is sneaky about it. But sometimes he does it almost aggressively by grabbing Jamil and rubbing his face on Jamil’s neck and ears.

Kalim is a very calm alpha that never got territorial or aggressive before, but this whole Azul situation kind of triggered him both in terms of instincts and emotions. He started to catch himself thinking that he doesn’t want Jamil to be with somebody else or that everything would be so easy if he just claimed Jamil as his and made sure everyone knows about it. That would be a huge outing, because the majority of people don’t even know that Jamil is an omega, but if Kalim does it without asking for Jamil’s permission, he won’t get in trouble, right?

Kalim didn’t want to claim Jamil as his and even promised him as a kid that he’d never do that, so Jamil really didn’t expect him to do it. And Kalim is going to justify it by saying that he only did it just so Azul leaves Jamil alone, but Jamil knows this isn’t true: he’s never seen Kalim so animalistic before. He didn’t want to protect Jamil from Azul, he just didn’t want to share him.

If we go the “Kalim has claimed Jamil” route, Azul won’t get over it. He’ll kidnap Jamil, hide him and put all his effort to try and “break” his bond with Kalim. It’s technically impossible, but Azul is stubborn. Even if Jamil won’t be completely his, Azul could at least brainwash him (with potions and mental attacks) into feeling disgust towards Kalim (he hates him anyway, so it shouldn’t be difficult, right?) and grow Jamil’s tolerance of his (Azul’s) smell. Azul is a patient man, so he doesn’t mind spending a lot of time and resources on that plan of his.

Having two alphas compete over him takes a toll on Jamil’s body both physically and hormonally. His cycle is all over the place because it starts adjusting to either Kalim’s or Azul’s needs (even if they don’t have sex, just because of their constant presence and courtship), and as a result, he’s always a bit horny. If he ends up sleeping with either of them, his body is going to be a mess, because even if he doesn’t allow them to bite his neck, they’re going to mark his body with their bites and scent in other ways. Jamil feels like a used piece of cloth after sex… and to his own disbelief, he doesn’t hate it.

#replies #headcanons #azujami #kalijami

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topguncortez · 1 year

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Coughs and Cuddles - B.Floyd

pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Female!Reader genre: tooth rotting fluff Warnings: Fevers, cough, sickness, Bob Floyd is a cute ass motherfucker and needs to be treated as such word count: 900 Note: I can literally feel the pneumonia marinating in my lungs, and so I present Nurse Bob:)

Bob knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. He knew when you were hungry, when you were tired, when your cycle was about to start, and when you were getting sick. You hated being sick. The fever, the chills, the constant hacking up a lung. Not to mention, if you were really sick, you had to take a day or two off of work. Flying while you were sick was a thousand times worse than flying normally. The pressure in your head felt like a knife being driven into your skull over and over. So when Bob heard that first sneeze, he knew that you were going to be in bed sick tomorrow morning.

And he was right. You woke up drenched in sweat, and calling out his name. Bob had already called Maverick that morning to tell him that neither one of you was coming in. He had stocked up the night before, leaving work early to go to the store. He was down in the kitchen making you tea with honey when he heard the pitiful sound of your voice. His heart broke on sight as he finished setting up the tray with everything.

“I’m right here,” Bob said, gently pushing the door open.

“I don’t feel good,” You said and Bob nodded. He set the tray down on the bedside table.

“Can you sit up?” He asked and you nodded weakly. Bob helped you sit up, and then fluffed the pillows behind you. He then placed the back of his hand on your forehead, and frowned. Double checking, he grabbed the thermometer on the tray, “Under the tongue, honey.” You opened your mouth and he stuck the thermometer in.

“Ya know this isn’t the most-” Your words ceased as Bob grabbed another thermometer, this one was one that was placed on your forehead. He smiled at you as he waited for them to go off. When they went off, Bob looked at them both and frowned.

“102.4, a fever,” Bob said, “Like I thought. What else is wrong?”

“My tummy,” You muttered.

“I got you some buttered toast, tea, ginger ale, and saltines. Eat the toast first, and then I can give you some tylenol-”

“I can’t-”

“It’s the gel capsules,” You hummed and Bob leaned down to kiss your forehead, “You lay here,” He grabbed the remote from the middle of the blankets, “And watch the Bachelor, while I go do laundry.”

“Bob, that mountain has been growing for like a month,” You guys had been so busy with work lately that the last thing you guys had time to do was laundry. The clean clothes basket had been overflowing for weeks.

“It’s fine. Eat first, tylenol, oh and here,” He grabbed the cool washcloth that was also folded on the tray. You leaned forward a bit and put it around your neck, “Help cool your temp and break the fever. Call if you need anything, I love you.” He pecked your lips before heading out of the room. Bob knew that when you were sick that you didn’t like people to dote on you hand and foot. You were thankful that he let you have your space, and shifted a bit to get more comfortable and turned the TV on.

You must’ve dozed off at sometime cause the next time you woke, it was to Bob rubbing your back. Your eyes fluttered open, looking to see the panic in Bob’s eyes. Bob caressed your cheek as you took a deep breath, which resulted in a fit of coughing. He helped you sit up a bit, clearing your airway. He rubbed your back gently as you doubled over from coughing.

“What’s wrong?” Your voice was hoarse as you spoke.

“You started whimpering and shaking. I could hear you down the hall in the office,” Bob said, and then checked your forehead, “I think it was your fever breaking. Kind of scared me.” You frowned at that, seeing his big blue puppy dog eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh no, honey, don’t apologize. I’m sorry for not checking you more often. I came in like two hours ago and you were fast asleep. Looked kinda cute, so I went to work so you could sleep more. How are you feeling?”

“Slightly better,” You admitted, “But I think I do need something?”

“What is it?” Bob looked around, “Water? Shoot, I didn’t get you any water, I’ll go-” You grabbed his hand to stop him from running to the kitchen to get you water.

“I need a bubble bath,” You said, and watched as a smile broke across Bob’s face, “Followed by cuddles. Doctors orders.”

“The doctor, huh?” Bob smiled and leaned down to kiss your forehead, “You sit tight, pretty girl, I’ll go get it started. Lavender or Rose Petal soap?”

“Mmm, lavender.”

“Sure thing. Don’t you move an inch, I’ll come get you when it’s ready,” He pointed at you, and you gave him a mock salute. Bob chuckled as he walked towards the bathroom. You sighed and flopped back down on the pillows. You looked up at the ceiling as you listened to the water being turned on.

“Yeah. . . I’m gonna marry him,” You said aloud.

"What was that babe?!" Bob yelled from the bathroom.

"Nothing!"

#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine #bob floyd #bob floyd fan fic #bob floyd fan fiction #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you

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jinxedmuse · 8 months

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let me back in — joshua hong, 홍지수

🎵 i keep thinking, maybe if you let me back in (did i fall out of line when i called you?) we can make it better, breaking every habit. pull myself together, you could watch it happen (when i told you, "i’m fine," you were lied to) let it happen, let it happen.

in which: reader and joshua are in a confusing relationship. a constant tug of war over who can get each other more in love, and more heart broken.

authors note: hii! tysm for the new support ! wish i could hug u all :( it means sm & truly motivates me to keep writing! plz enjoy this angsty one shot i whipped up a few nights ago while missing shua & having this song on loop!! ><

tags/warnings: afab reader x non idol joshua, unhealthy relationship, fwb except they’re barely friends, extremely angsty, mutual pining but they’re both too hurt to realize. mentions of the word sex but no actual smut, just suggestive moments. discussion that may come across as ‘arguing’ but they’re just genuinely learning how to properly communicate for the first time since they met…

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joshua’s phone rang at exactly 12:00 am on his birthday.

just as a stream of constant messages poured in, wishing him a happy 27th birthday. another added year signifying he was truly growing up, catching up to time.

the number calling was one he hated himself for recognizing. for engraving so deep within his mind that he could practically say it backwards.

he mentally cursed himself more for what he did next; picking up.

“joshuuuuu” the voice sang out, your voice. on the other end, almost fully overtaken by the sound of what seemed like a club in the background along with laughter from your friends.

“this.. this is way out of line.” he begrudged out. it was wrong, so wrong for you to be calling. even worse for him to be entertaining it.

yet, here he was and he felt oh so genuinely content that you remembered his birthday after almost a year with no contact. now listen, in his honorable defense, shua was many things; dumb? wasn’t one of them.

however, when it came to you? his acquaintance, old friend, ex, situationship, fling, lover, whatever the hell you wanted to call it. he was, no, the first step is accountability. he is, way too smitten for you to have anything such as common sense.

“i know. trust me, i know. it’s just old habits die hard, you know?” you slightly slurred with a melancholic tone. as if reminiscing the countless times in your knowing of each other that this almost exact conversation has happened.

“yeah, i know. so.. what is it tonight?” joshua asked. slightly hopeful that you had more in mind then a simple birthday phone call.

“i have something for you, let me come over.”

his heart practically raced out of his chest. he could already imagine a string of thoughts; possible scenarios that could occur. but he had to put on a front, at least try to resist.

even if it was just a bit.

“at what point are we going to have enough of each other? isn’t this tiring?” he asked, feigning an exasperated sigh.

more than anything in this world he wanted this constant cycle to end, but more than anything in the world he wanted you, craved you, just as much.

the question rang in your ears. i mean genuinely, just what were you two still doing? both in your mid to late twenties playing a constant game of back in forth, banter through the pain that left you both feeling lonely for what? the nostalgia of it all?

at what point would this tug of war finally be bearable?

maybe when it ended.

regardless, you ignored his question. refusing to let the buzz of tonight’s choice of alcohol wither away into the depths of such a question.

“is it still the same address birthday boy?”

there was silence. followed by what seemed to be him getting up.

“yes.” he timidly replied. too embarrassed to acknowledge the fact that your grip on him seemed to be getting stronger each year.

“good!” you exclaimed. getting your purse and slinging it onto your shoulder, grabbing a full bottle of sikhye before gesturing to your friends that you were leaving and would call them later.

“why’s that good?” he asked, retreating to lay back down on his couch.

“it’s only like a 20 minute walk from the club i’m at.” you said nonchalantly while double checking your map app.

“no need, i’ll order you a uber. wait out front.” he replies. he then puts you on speaker and starts ordering the ride, wanting the quickest and most comfortable one that would bring you to him.

“why? i’m a fan of walking actually. i picked it up a few months ago. needed something to do to distract myself from you joshu.”

there was a pang in his heart that felt all too real. he hated when you guys weren’t on speaking terms and the fact that you could bring it up all so casually while he had difficulty even whispering your name to recount to his friends what happened this time.

“that’s great, i’m happy for you. but there’s no need to tonight.” and with that, the ride was purchased. uber black, all for you.

“why? a gentleman doesn’t let a lady walk alone? that’s certainly not coming from you i hope.” you mocked bitterly. trying to push away one of the many painful memories you’ve had since your entanglement with joshua.

“you never let me explain my point of view of that night.” he complained. the flash backs still all too real, as if they had happened just yesterday. a feeling of frustration and guilt making home in his heart.

the uber black suv pulled up to the side. a man coming out to open the back seat door for you as you tumbled forward, thanking him quickly. once you’re in, he closes the door and you focus of not getting car sickness as he departs.

there’s a twinge in your stomach that has you patting it gently. you lower your window and stick your head out slightly. the cool air of the night slowly waking you out of your drunken state.

there’s a few minutes of silence before joshua speaks up again.

“hello? y/n? you still there?” he asked, tone laced with worry.

the question made you laugh.

despite all that you two had went through. the unrequited high school love that soon turned to a torturous one. years of pining, unbelievable out burst of arguments, and some passion yet “casual sex” but you both knew all too well there was no such thing as ‘casual’ for you.

regardless, you were still here. on the way to his place at almost 1 am on his birthday.

“yeah. i’m still there.” you replied.

you both always joked that you were probably thriving soul mates in another universe. you guys read each others mind dangerously fast but it still took you by surprise when he immediately picked up on the heavy meaning behind your words.

“it’s okay. i’m still here too.” he answered. as if to let you know that you weren’t alone in this cruel yet daunting situation. because after all, it takes two to tango.

soon enough, the driver stopped in front of the towering condos. you get out, once again thanking him as you grab your stuff and try to pull yourself together.

what takes you by surprise is the fact that joshua is waiting for you outside. wearing all black, hair slicked back and phone still to his ear. a small smile appeared onto his face, he looked as handsome as ever.

it still made your heart race just as it did when you first realized you liked him all those years ago in high school.

you walked towards him, trying to remain in a straight line. the nerves of the alcohol no longer giving you the confidence which had led you here in the first place.

it isn’t until you’re a few feet closer to him that he starts walking forward to meet you.

you’d make a joke about his action and the symbolism it had in regard to your relationship (or truly lack-there-of) but it still hurt too fresh. was still too early.

“here. happy birthday” you said slightly shoving the sikhye into this arms. he hangs up the phone and takes it, holding it carefully.

“so, how’ve you been-“ he starts but you’re already walking way past him, making your way to his place which he left unlocked.

joshua’s not dumb. he knows you did it on purpose. small talk never having been your fortitude but it still hurt him.

you enter the condo, him following closely behind snd locking the door.

as you take off your shoes and set down your purse, you looked around. everything the same as the last time you were in here on your birthday, almost a year ago.

“i’ve missed you.” he says while setting down the sikhye on his marble counter top. the small lights on top illuminating him. he almost looked angelic.

he always knew just what to say to have you weak in the knees. it was infuriating.

“i’ve missed your nice ass place, do you always have the ac blasting like this?” you say as you flopped down onto his ridiculously soft beige couch. using one of the pillows to prop yourself up.

“the floors are heated so i like the cool air, even during winter” he comes up and sits beside you on the couch, observing you closely.

“well my bad mr.money man” it took everything in you to not physically roll your eyes. you weren’t actually annoyed and you knew shua wasn’t saying it to brag but it was frustrating how seemingly put together his life is.

aside from this rather “chaotic” ensemble, your life was actually pretty nice. yet you were always right behind him, a step behind like some loyal puppy.

and tonight, you had the urge to prove once and for all you weren’t just a puppy, you were an equal.

what you didn’t know was that he already saw you as one.

“come here” he says while patting his back, looking at you with eager yet cautious eyes.

you don’t verbally respond, just physically get up and do as instructed. straddling his lap.

his hands dig into your waist, holding you in place.

“explain yourself.”

you both said it at the same time. it was eerie but earned a unanimous laugh.

“you first” you string out. one hand playing with the ends of his hair and the other just below his neck, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“look, y/n.. this isn’t just a one way street and we clearly remember things differently” he says blatantly. the grip he had on your waist loosening the more he spoke.

“just admit it.” you start, piercing into his soft brown eyes.

this would be much easier if he wasn’t so handsome.

“admit what?” he ask. hands trailing up and down your back, just how he used to back in uni.

“that i’ve had it worse, it hurt me harder. admit that you, hurt me way worse.” you demand, trying to ignore the ache in your throat.

joshua tilts his head back and let’s out a frustrated sigh.he looks back at you with something else in his eyes, lust.

he pulls you closer to him while pushing you down onto him. you look at him confused but he doesn’t speak yet, instead he starts pressing light, gentle kisses up your arm.

“did i complain when you started going out with that pathteic exuse of a man might i add, in uni just a less than a month after you confessed to me?” he ask peering up at you.

there was a slight pang in your heart. you remember it so clearly. after years of a seemingly unrequited love in high school, you confessed to him in uni.

hoping, praying, that it would help you get over joshua.

when he didn’t give an answer before mid terms, you tried moving on in another ways. getting with a guy that liked you way more than you liked him.

thinking back, it was definitely cruel but staying alone and seemingly rejected seemed worse.

he continues, both kissing your body and speaking. as if letting out years of pent up hurt in the air.

“did i ignore you after you rejected my confession at the end of the last semester? a week or so before my birthday? you ignored me sweetheart; even though i was the one rejected.”

this one struck a nerve.

a memory far too painful to be brought up. he goes up to kiss your collarbone but you back up, ultimately getting off him and sitting on the table in front of him.

“seriously joshua? are you really still acting confused as to why i rejected you then?” you ask fully bewildered. one eye brow slightly raised as you observe the man in front of you.

he leans forward and mocks your expression. daring you to state your reasoning after all these years.

you let out a dry laugh before crossing your arms.

alright then, your turn to straighten some things out tonight.

“joshua hong do not act oblivious to the fact that i have been pathetically in love with you since high school. i don’t know if it’s when you started sitting by me in class, or opening my drinks, or that time you shaded me from the sun while i was napping in p.e but i have been. plain and simple, okay?”

he starts to talk but you cut him off, determined to get your point through.

“foolish teen me thought i was special. until, i realized you probably sat next to me because your two friends sat in front of me, you open anyone’s drinks, and excetra excetra but either way, i made the dumb mistake of confessing my feelings for you in uni.”

you’re angry now, not at him but at how pathetic you must’ve seemed all these years.

he stays quiet, letting you take a breather before continuing.

“so yes. to get over you i started dating, having fun, doing anything to fix a mended heart of what i assumed was unrequited love because you gave me some ambiguous ass answer and what i needed in my life was not ambiguity, especially from you.”

you get up while taking, now pacing around his table trying to stop any tears that warned they would fall out if you looked at him any longer.

“then, a year into my relationship, on my relationship anniversary, you confess to me and crumbled down genuinely almost every ounce of self respect and happiness and i barley managed to scrape together to make my relationship work. i had to break up with him because how could it be fair to try and love someone else when a single confession, no, even just a mere look from you spiraled me back into you palm.”

joshua looks pained as he looks at you, getting up to come over to you but you stand firm on the other side of the table. moving sides any time he tries to approach you.

not afraid of him, never afraid of him.

afraid of the affect he has on you.

in a momentary lapse of weakness, a tear comes out and you immediately wipe it away.

“i love you. a lot more than you do me which is fine, i accepted that a long time ago but i will not be the girl who has these arguments with you once a year and then slips out in the morning after we’ve had sex. not again, i can’t.”

you didn’t even realize when but joshua was suddenly at your side, holding you gently and leasing you to sit back down on the couch next to him.

“y/n i’ve loved you a lot longer than you think, i swear it. and i’ve never once told you to leave in the mornings, trust me. i never sleep well because i wake up practically scorn when i see the spot you’re supposed to be in is empty. i get hurt a lot more easier than you think, it’s written all over my face when i miss you.”

his words practically ate you alive. if he had said all these years ago, even months, no even just last week you probably would’ve gone right back head over heels, full in.

you let out a coarse laugh. the ache in your throat from holding back your tears evident as ever and he realizes this, gently brushing back some hair behind your ears.

“you never told me to leave but never asked me to stay.” you murmur almost incoherent while staring down at your hands.

“mhm?” he hums, confused at the string of words you purposely rushed out.

“i said, you never told me to leave but you never asked me to stay.” you repeat, now looking at him directly. trying to read his eyes.

this, he couldn’t refute. and he knew it deep down as well.

after all those years of pining and watching from afar it still felt too real for him when you were suddenly in his bed for the first time.

you could’ve thought he was a teen who hadn’t had his first kiss yet. hands shaky, eyes nervous to meet yours, mind racing with thoughts at 100 miles per hour because that is how much of an affect you had on him.

he never admitted it though, failed the chance to and soon enough you mistakenly took his silence as a “hint” and slipped out every morning before the sun even rose.

it was his turn to tears to start falling but his hands felt too limp to even dry his eyes. so when you raise yours and wipe them away ever so gently, all he can do is cry into your hands.

“i’m sorry” he starts choking out.

“i really am so sorry. if i could do it all over again, if you just let me back in, i would. i would make it right. make a move faster, acknowledge my feelings earlier, not let you slip away so easily. i would tell you to stay. i want you, no, i need you to stay.” he rushes out, practically pleading at this point because God forbid he lets you out his life again.

but you both know it can’t happen. you’ve hurt each other far too much, have fallen dependent on each other for far too long.

it was unhealthy and you both knew knew it.

you firmly interlock your pink with his and stand up. he looks at your pinkies for a few more seconds before standing up after you.

you walk ahead, grabbing your purse and slipping on your shoes. your pinkies still loosely intertwined.

joshua wants to say something, he tries to on multiple accounts but every time he opens his mouth, tears brim his eyes again.

you unlock the door and slightly go outside, your pinkies barely still holding onto each other.

you stare at each other longingly, as if you both knew in your hearts that it would be for the last time.

you smile fondly, even after just crying he was still so handsome.

“same time next year?” he jokes

you let out a genuine laugh and he swore in another life he’d do anything to keep hearing it.

“i’m joking. you are never, ever, allowed in my “nice ass house” again.” he dead pans, while not so obviously trying to hide a small smile.

you knew it had to end here, at his door step, pinkies intertwined. it would’ve never worked, no matter how much you guys both wanted it.

“i’ll miss you, so much.” you say sincerely.

he knows this. “miss” was a massive understatement in his books. he leans forward, placing a gentle kiss in your lips which you kissed back but for once you don’t chase after his lips once he pulls away.

he places another light kiss on your temple, as he does so he pulls away his pinky and this action is the one that almost breaks you all over again.

a beat passes, you stare at each other with simultaneously far too much love and hurt to ever truly be strangers.

“i’ll miss you too. just as much.” he echoes. meaning every word.

and with that, for the first time since meeting him, you pulled yourself together and turn your back to him first.

you walk away first.

and he watches it happen before closing his door, for good.

89 notes · View notes

mintmatcha · 2 years

Text

Seasons - Hanamaki x reader

Summary: You’ve been friends with Hanamaki Takahiro since forever- is that something you really want to change?

CW: friends to lovers, cisfem reader, slight angst with a smutty end uwu, vaginal sex WC: 6k+ for: @antique-remains - sorry it took so long!

The key to Makki’s place is waiting for you under the loose edge of carpet in the vestibule, just like always.

His apartment is unapologetically lived in. Bits and pieces of his life are strewn across the apartment: sweatshirts and unfolded blankets are tossed over random pieces of furniture, his shoes are kicked off and left in front of the garbage he’s yet to bring downstairs. Down the hall, his unmade bed is proudly on display; the sheets are pulled up in the corners and the comforter left crumpled at the foot of the bed, leaving bits of his threadbare mattress exposed.

It should bother you, the mess that accumulates in the periphery of his life, but the rigidity of a perfectly kept home just wouldn't feel like him-- just wouldn't feel like home.

The scent of apple wafts under the overwhelming scent of extra buttered bagged popcorn; he’s lit the candle you gave him for Christmas last year in an attempt to hide the tinge of burning that clings to the air.

You neatly pull off your shoes and place them in the cubby saved especially for you. The sticker with your name on it is peeling at the corners- you make a mental note to replace it later. Maybe pinky and sparkly, something that the girls he brings home won’t be able to ignore.

Not that you care if Makki has girls over. It’s not like you’re dating.

You just want them to know that you’re special to him-

“Is that you or am I getting robbed again?” a voice calls from the kitchen.

“It’s a robber.” you call out and Makki barks out a laugh at the response, “I’m here to steal your food.”

-Because you are special to Makki, whether he wants to admit it or not.

Friendships are surprisingly fragile; they melt away in due time, like that final frost before spring crawls from her slumber. The change fuels new experiences, pushes us forward. It’s the cycle, it’s the passage of life; we grow and change as people, often in different directions - time passes, we walk away. Sometimes you miss the particular sparkle of someone you no longer know -that elementary school friend whose face you can’t quite remember, the cool touch of a lover- and will never know again. Not in that same way, anyway: snowflakes reform when winter returns, but are never exactly as they were. Time’s arrow never marches backwards, things are never the same as they were.

But Hanamaki is a constant.

Like the last days of summer vacation, he lingers. He stays, he burns. He’s the dog days of August, presence heavy like the air before a storm and yet gentle, like the tinkle of rain that thrummed on the tin roof of your childhood home. He’s bright, he’s warm-

He’s summer.

When you make your way into the kitchen, Makki’s lips split into a wide grin before he even looks your way.

You noticed it years ago, the specific way Makki smiles when he looks at you. Crinkled nose, tongue caught between his canines, eyes practically shut from glee: like he’s looking into the sun.It’s not traditionally pretty or handsome, but something about it -maybe the earnestness about it, maybe the fact it's reserved especially for you- makes your heart jump unfairly high.

That smile has changed over the years, but it still burns as brightly as it did the first time you saw it: the summer he lost his two front teeth and made you pinky swear that you’d be friends forever with sticky fingers stained red from melted popsicles.

“How’s my girl?” he bumps the fridge door open with his hip and pulls out two bottles-- the pricey, five dollars a bottle kind that he only keeps for you, “Ready to watch some crappy television?”

In a practiced move, he brings a bottle across the edge of the corner and slams down, letting the cap fly off and clatter across the floor, sight unseen. Then, he slides it across the marble top with a solid push, gliding through its own condensation. It almost goes in your direction.

Keyword: almost.

It bounces off the bowl of popcorn and wobbles to the side; you barely manage to catch the bottle before it spills over the side of the counter. Makki chuckles to himself with that low, through his teeth hiss, gentle and rhythmic like the cicada’s chant.

“You better pick that cap up- I don’t have shoes on.” you huff, taking a quick sip.

“You don’t have shoes on? In here?” Makki scoffs, heading towards the living room and gesturing for you to follow, “I hope you’ve had your tetanus shots.”

You grab the popcorn before joining him, tossing a couple pieces into your mouth. Makki busies himself looking for the remote in a pile of blankets, tossing them aside and off of the couch until a solid thump tells him he’s thrown it across the room. "Do you even own a vacuum?"

"That'll be my first purchase once I get a job again, I promise." He scrambles to pull the remote from the tangle of fabric. The back of it is secured with duct tape, barely holding the batteries in place.

"I'm telling your mom you live like this.”

Makki shoots straight up in mock anger, but he can’t control how his eyes glimmer with humor.

"Get your ass on the couch already." He stalks towards you, grasping you by the hips and practically throwing you towards the futon. The grip of his hands, the familiar touch that you’ve learned to lean into, is cool from the beer bottle he still holds, and yet the exposed sliver of skin where his fingers graze feels incredibly hot. You stumble over yourself with a giggle, unsure of exactly why your heart is suddenly pounding when you sit.

Makki stretches across the couch after you sit, nestling his head into the crook of its arm and tossing his long legs over your thighs. The laughter bubbling between you builds for a split second as you make eye contact and the signature crinkle of his eye deepens.

“You’re such a hog,” you chide, nudging him over with the heel of your foot, gently at first, then with a solid kick, “You never leave any space for me.”

Makki rolls his eyes, tongue jutting into the side of his cheek to hold down his smile. “Oh please, you look pretty comfy to me.”

“How can I be comfy when you’re so boney? Your knees are cutting me!”

“Oh please, the ladies love that I’m svelte.”

“Svelte?”

“Svelte!”

“What kind of word is svelte?”

“I don’t fucking know the etymology! It’s a word! It came from where words come from!” Makki sits up slightly, “It means long, lean-- sexy.”

He trails his hands down his body like you would imagine a porn star would, even pretending you tweak his own nipples. You smack him at that, choking back a laugh.

“Okay, keep telling yourself that. Dad bods are totally in right now.”

Silence settles between you as he tenses slightly, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt. You debate apologizing; Makki is more sensitive than he lets on.

As the game on TV starts to dwindle, he relaxes into you, hand still absentmindedly clutching the hem of your shirt. Usually, he lets you choose the show, but today he juggles the remote and bottle in one hand, clearly not willing to give up his control. Every now and again his jaw tenses against your thigh, holding back words he knows he shouldn’t say.

“What’s-His-Face doesn’t have a dad bod.” he says.

It takes you a beat to understand what he’s talking about.

“Kai.” you correct, “And we broke up last week, so it doesn’t really matter what he looks like.”

“Good.” Makki pushes himself upright by his elbows, “He wasn’t right for you.”

Makki never likes anyone that you date. Ever. He’s always quick with some remarks, always overbearingly close. It used to be endearing, like an older brother watching out for your safety, but the older you grow, the more immature it feels… the more antagonistic it feels.

“Oh yeah? Do you know what’s good for me?” you say.

In high school, he’d chase away anyone who came sniffing around. In college, he’d throw an arm around your waist at parties to ward away the frat boys that came too close.

Now that you’re grown, that kind of friendship isn’t what you want.

You want -you need- what everyone else wants and needs: to be loved.

"Well, duh. I know exactly what your Mr. Right is.” Makki pops the top to his beer and foam threatens to bubble over. He runs his tongue across the lip as he talks, slurring his already distracted spiel as he continues to flip through the stations, “Do you remember that rom-com you were obsessed with in high school? The one with the uh, girl who had a crush on that jock? The movie with that actress-"

"Dude, I don't-"

"The finale had her kissing the other dude, but they couldn't actually kiss 'cause he was smiling too hard. Every time you made me watch that movie you said the same thing-" he pitches his voice higher to mock you, crooning into the lip of his bottle, " 'I wanna be kissed like that. I wanna guy to love me like that.'"

You grind your teeth together. The reminder of what you never had makes your chest ache. Your relationships were never exactly what you wanted, but that’s reality. Growing up is finding out that dreams and hopes mean very little in the grand scheme of things.

"I knew he wasn't right for you because neither of you ever smiled." Makki offers you a half smile, pulling the corner of his mouth up too earnestly-- like he’s happy about your heart break.

He, of all people, should be more sympathetic. His life has been filled with dreams that never took off. His volleyball career ended by early onset arthritis before he could even graduate, college life ended without a degree-

He should know how it burns to watch something you want pull away.

It’s human- the want to be loved. Deep down in your heart, you knew Kai wasn’t right for you, but that desire, that core need, made you hope that you could somehow fit together. You could force a connection if you just tried hard enough-

"He just…” Makki settles on an anime. It’s one of your favorites, but right now you can’t manage to look at the screen. “Never looked happy enough when kissing you. I’m glad you kicked him to the curb."

The laugh track cuts through the room. It’s tinned and much too long to be real, carving a long silence between you too.

You didn’t leave Kai.

He left you.

He was the one who didn’t want to try.

“Can we move on?” you ask, the watery tone of your voice betraying you. Makki's eyes snap from the screen.

“Come on, don’t cry. It’s not like this guy was a prize." Makki scrambles to sit up, pressing his shoulder into yours, "He chewed with his mouth open, remember? You hated that."

Makki smacks his lips together for comedic effect and you grimace.

"He was a prize to me.” You rub your nose on your sleeve as you gather yourself, slipping sideways and away from him, trying to corner your own space in the room. Makki follows, taking back every inch until your hip is pressed into the arm of the chair. “Having someone care about me is a treasure."

"He didn't care about you though, not in the way you deserve."

"I'm getting too old to be picky," you sniffle, "I just want someone to love me."

Makki's hand finds yours and gives it a light squeeze.

"You always have me. I love you."

You just scoff.

“That doesn’t count, Makki.” you say, “I don’t mean friendship love, I mean real, full-ass love. Life long marriage, 2.5 kids love.”

“Yeah, I know,” he squeezes harder, pausing slightly with an open mouth, still considering his next words. There’s the slightest quiver in his hands, something that makes your stomach drop.

Why is there fear in his touch?

Why is there hope?

“I’ve felt like this for a really long time and I just- I love you,” Makki exhales the words, brittle and thin, “I mean, I love you.”

The world inside the apartment pauses. Through the wall you can hear the neighbor's kids stomping around and giggling, caught up in some sort of game, their joy echoing through the room.

The words slip out of his lips so naturally, it's like he's said them a hundred times. He has, over beers and late night snacks, but now it carries more weight. There's no implication of mere friendship or brotherly love; the meaning changes with how he leans on the vowels, warms the tone with confidence, whispers it without a waver in his voice.

“I love you the way you want,” Makki says, “ And I want to love you in the way you deserve, if you’ll let me.”

He loves you and he's sure of it. The hope of it all sparks in his eyes, bright and youthful, the way you always want to be looked at, but never had-

Your heart catches in your chest before it shatters.

"Makki, I-" you pull away, "We're best friends, I can't- That's-"

It takes a long time to gather yourself and pick the correct words from the torrential stream that suddenly clouds your thoughts. While you stammer over the fragments of your mind, Makki watches, his smile losing his soft edges, falling into a plastic facsimile of itself as he realizes what you’re about to say.

Makki is the constant in your life. The one thing that stays the same, the one thing that feels evergreen. Any sort of change risks that.

“We’re best friends.” you repeat firmly.

The hand on yours tightens for a second, then pulls away.

“Ah.” he swallows hard, then clears his throat and pops his lips together. "Shit."

“You’re so great,” you whisper, as if the compliment softens anything, “You mean so much to me, I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“Ah.” he repeats, face screwed into a pucker. His fist bounces against his thigh in a quick rhythm, just hard enough for self flagellation. "Shit."

“”I’m sorry.” It’s the only thing you can think to say.

“No, I-” Makki swallows back the brittle remains of a laugh, “Oh, shit, clearly I saw this going a different way.”

“I’m sorry.”

"No, it's fine, really-" he stands abruptly and paces forward, laughter bubbling out from deep in his chest. He moves his arms as he talks, flinging them side to side in much too wide arches as if he no longer knows what do do with himself, "I misread somethings, I thought, maybe, you know, after all these years, it was- maybe both of us-"

He’s not wrong. You’ve bitten back love for years now, pushed it to the back of your brain and filled the hole want left with men that felt close enough.

“Nothing?” he presses. Sadness doesn't sit naturally in him. It comes out through uncomfortable smiles, leaks out through twitches and tension. “Really? Nothing? I could have- fuck, I could have sworn you’d say yes-”

The apartment's hodgepodge suddenly takes up too much space for both of you and yet your best friend feels farther away than ever. Since puberty he's been tall, looming over most people, but now, with shoulders hunched and head dipped low, he seems small again. A socked foot kicks at the bottle cap from earlier, pushing it back and forth aimlessly as he tries to busy himself.

"I should go." You slink towards the kitchen abruptly.

"Yeah. Yeah, probably." Makki follows you, maintaining more than a healthy distance behind you as he skulks. He moves like a kicked dog, ducking his head and hunching over to make himself smaller. He hasn't been tiny for years, but like this he feels weak-- brittle.

You gather yourself quickly, wasting no time slipping your shoes on and making it to the front door. You move too fast to process your own feelings about the whole thing. Maybe purposefully.

If you don't keep moving, you'll think about how this is all you ever wanted in middle school, how you talked yourself out of this in high school-

Resentment builds in your throat. The past is filled with bitten back feelings and stopping yourself from wandering into unknown territory, all in hope to keep things the same. All in fear of losing what you have.

Why would he risk losing what you have? Does he not value your friendship as much as you do? He’s so willing to risk it-- didn’t he think this through, think about what would have happened if you said no?

Makki just watches as you open the front door. He stands with his hands crammed in his pockets like a guilty child.

“We’re still friends," you state firmly as you step out into the hall. "Friends."

He watches you from the doorway, the orange glow of overhead lighting catching in the wetness that’s collected in his waterline.

“Yeah,” he says, “Friends."

…

The next week is an early cold snap, both inside the walls of your apartment and out. The sunflowers outside your neighbor’s apartment wilt and brown, heavy with a sheet of frost, and you keep checking your phone for a text that isn’t coming.

The week comes and goes.

Then, the next.

And the next.

You continue your life like normal, minus your weekly visits to see Makki. There’s no disruptions from the monotony of your day to day. You go to work, you go home, you do the tiny things that hold your life together… but a tinny hollowness follows you. It eats the parts of you where Makki used to sit, gnaws at you everytime your heart jumps when your phone dings.

(You never had the ringer on before, but now the idea of missing a message makes your brain buzz with a fragile sort of anxiety.)

You almost break. It’d be so easy to run back without figuring yourself out first- so easy to just pretend nothing ever happened. Your whole being wants you to run back to Makki-

-but instead, you find yourself at the doorstep of the next best thing.

“Hey!” When the front door opens, your voice is much too high to be natural, “What’s up, dude? Amigo? I was just in the neighborhood and-”

"You two still aren't talking." Mattsun leans against the door frame, eyebrows cocked as if he’s asked a question, when he’s really stating a fact. He probably knows everything-- maybe more than you do.

If you are -were- Makki’s best friend, Mattsun’s a close second. Volleyball always kept them close, even after high school ended, much to your…

Dismay is too strong a word.

Matsukawa Issei was never too thrilled at your presence, seemingly for no good reason. You two had good times, sure, but you could never shake the feeling there was some sort of resentment bubbling below the surface.

"Is Makki doing okay?" you hold yourself, arms wrapped around your middle.

"What do you think?" he jerks his head towards the inside of the house, "Come in."

Mattsun's home is surprisingly pristine, dotting with little details and colors he certainly didn't pick out himself. Throw pillows on a couch he didn’t want, a still packaged stroller on the kitchen island, professionally framed pictures from his wedding hung down the hall: touches of his wife.

He’s grown because of her- mostly for the better. Sometimes, he’s unrecognizable, turning down hang outs in exchange for a couple’s activity or an ‘early night’-

-other times, like right now, he looks just like himself- perpetually unamused with you.

"So, are you just never going to talk to him again or-?" Mattsun leans against the marble countertop. He rests his head in his hands, eyebrows slightly lifted. If you didn’t know him so well, you’d miss the annoyance in the twitch of his upper lip.

"I'm waiting for things to go back to normal." you shift uncomfortably, avoiding his eyes.

"I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.”

You fidget, trying to focus on anything but Mattsun. Carpet, wall, ceiling, fridge, anywhere but towards his cold, judgemental gaze, “Don’t say that. I need him.”

He groans and rubs the bridge of his nose with the heel of his palm, clearly exasperated.

“Can I ask you a question? And you cannot bullshit me on this.”

Mattsun tilts his chin up and you’re suddenly very aware of the height difference between you. “Do you love him?”

“Well-”

“Don’t think about it,” Mattsun says, “Are you in love with Hanamaki Takahiro? Because he’s been in love with you since high school and I can’t fucking stand watching him waste his life chasing someone that doesn’t feel the same way because he’s already wasted so much time on your ass-”

“Yes, okay?” your voice is softer than you want it to be, “Of course I am.”

A beat passes between you.

"You’re my friend and all-” Mattsun huffs, takes a deep breath, then closes his eyes, “-but I could fucking strangle you right now. Why the fuck did you turn him down? Why the fuck have you two been dating other people? Every single fucking day for years, I’ve been listening to him pine over you-”

"I don't want things to change!" you stress, “If we date, we aren’t friends anymore. We’re… something else.

“You’d be dating, idiot. You know, boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“You’re missing the point! What if it goes south?” you gesture wildly, “What if we have some insane break up?”

"Then you break up! It happens!" The hard set of Mattsun’s jaw has relaxed slightly, maybe with pity, "I’m going to be honest, I don’t always get what Makki sees in you-”

“Okay, bitch.”

“Relax, I’m kidding,” he says, “Makki cares about you and you allegedly care about him. Isn’t pursuing that worth the risk?”

“And if I lose him?”

“Don’t you think you’re losing him right now by turning him down?” Mattsun lets out a great breath, then claps your shoulder with more tenderness than you thought he was capable of, “I can’t make any decisions for you, but I really think you’re missing out on something great because you’re afraid of something new. Sometimes the change you don’t want is the change you need.”

You two look just at each other, barely friends in a strangely picturesque kitchen, the conversation settling into your mind. The anxiety that’s been bubbling in your chest for the past couple weeks threatens to flair, but you swallow it back.

“I gotta go.” you turn towards the door, no more confident than you were a couple minutes ago, but now with a direction.

“Hey,” Mattsun calls after you, “You better be going to his house right now!”

…

The key to Makki’s place is waiting for you under the loose edge of carpet in the vestibule, just like always.

The lights are off, despite the early hour. If you didn't know his apartment, you'd need to wait for your eyes to adjust, but you know this place like the back of your hand, navigating through the space easily.

Mattsun’s annoying, but he’s right. You can’t keep letting everything move around you while you cling on to keeping yourself stagnant. You’re not quite sure exactly what you’re doing here. There’s no plan, no big speech- just you, filled with feelings you aren’t sure what to do with, but you know they can’t wait.

And you know things will never be the same.

That thought makes your stomach sink.

Makki might not even be home. You picture him- already moved on, out on a date tonight with some beautiful woman, forgetting about you-

Oh shit, Oh no.

This is a mistake. Anxiety builds in your chest, fluttering and swelling, begging you not to-

"Holy shit."

Makki’s sitting on the couch, legs folded into his chest, backlit by the outside world. The pretty pink hues of his hair are softened by the diffused light, painting his features even softer. Like this, you can’t see his expression-- can’t tell if he’s happy or not. "What are you doing here?"

You don’t know. You really don’t know.

So, you say the only thing that comes to mind.

"I missed you."

In synchrony, you both move towards each other: Makki reaching, you striding across the room. It’s easy to fall into place; he slides his knees down and you crawl into the space they've left behind, pressing yourself into his chest. His arms, surprisingly sure and firm, loop your waist, pulling you in until there’s no space between you and every breath is something shared. The rap of his heart is heavy against your ribs, almost as heavy as your own.

“I don’t like when we’re apart,” you murmur into his shirt.

“Me neither.” He sighs and the tension melts from his body, nestling into you, “I don’t know what to do without you.”

You’ve been this close before. The familiar taste of aftershave, the surprisingly floral scent of his shampoo, the cool feel of his skin against your cheek: it’s all ingrained into your mind, forever present.

Makki pulls away just enough to look at you, managing the weakest smile. “Can we be friends again?”

There’s one thing you’ve never noticed: a slight gap between his canines and his molars. They used to be perfect, back when his braces first came off. Over the years, without his retainer, they’ve moved.

Time brings change, even in the constants.

Your fingers trail the side of his face almost mindlessly. The skin is more textured now than when you were kids, the subtle pitting of acne scars fading across his temples. “I don't know if that's what I want, Takahiro.”

He breathes out steadily, but his heart rate thrums faster. “I- you can’t say my name like that.”

Your forehead rests against his, the humid heat of your breath tangling with his in a slow, labored tempo. “Hiro.”

His eyelashes brush your cheek. “If you say it like that, I’m gonna get my hopes up.”

Your nerves almost fail you. Just as you begin to consider pulling away, he whispers your name back and, in the gentle tranquility of the chaos that is Hanamaki, in the darkness of his apartment, you see what was always there.

When your lips meet, everything finally makes sense.

Sometimes the change you’re afraid of is the change you need.

The plush of his lips are warm as they graze over yours, testing the waters for just a moment before diving back in for more. He moves like it sustains him, like you are the only thing he needs. When your lips part for him, Makki gasps, so sharp that you feel as if he's stealing the breath from your lungs.

Or maybe the breathlessness is from how his hands squeeze your sides, or how he refuses to break away, moving and licking and biting-

A smile rips across his face, followed by his signature bubbling laugh. and your teeth suddenly clink together. You both recoil-

“Shit,” the hand that's found its place on the back of your neck holds you against him as he laughs, the quiver to his voice still thick, "Oh, please don't break my heart."

He dips in again, but doesn't connect.

"I love you, God, I love you." he rambles, holding himself just a moment away, the same fear and trepidation you see in yourself flashing in his eyes, "Please, don't break my heart again, don’t say you don’t feel the same-"

In the breath before your lips meet, you let yourself say it.

"I love you too."

"Oh-" his voice is practically a sob, "Oh, thank god, I thought I lost you, thought I'd never-"

You silence him with another kiss and he scrambles to keep up, kissing and touching every space he can, pulling you in like he couldn't possibly live without your body, like it aches to be without you-

The hunger builds between you much faster than you imagined, the spark of affection boiling into the heat of desire- the inner parts of your thigh, where denim meets denim, where you can feel the beginnings of a hard on pressing into your pubic bone: every touch makes your gut bloom with want. The hem of your own pants digs into you in a way that you can’t stop moving against, combining with all the longing you’ve been fighting for years until you're panting into his mouth.

Makki moves just as passionately, digging his fingers into the fat of your ass, then your hip, as he grinds into you.

"Can I?" he breaks away to tug at the hem of your shirt, a smile smeared across his face. It’s that smile, the one reserved for you and only you, bright and vibrant as ever.

"Please."

He takes his time, pushing the fabric up inch by inch, marveling at the unexplored territory. The pads of his fingers are thick yet restrained, barely grazing your stomach and your ribs. By the time he reaches under your bust, pressing into the fat with a tentative touch, goosebumps have spread across your skin, partially from the exposure, partially from anticipation.

“Hiro, come on-” you scoff out a laugh, tugging your own shirt off. He remains frozen as you quickly fumble with the clasp of your bra and discard it onto the pile of blankets next to you.

“Oh my god.” Makki swallows hard as he looks at you, fully exposed for the first time, eyes trailing down your body with a patient hunger. His fingertips trace the space right above your skin, like you’re a work of art he’s afraid to sully. “Oh my god.”

You tuck your fingers under the band of his pants and tug, pulling him impossibly closer, his hips pressing deeper into your thighs, “Are you just gonna look at me all night?”

“How can I not?” The nail of his thumb brushes against a pebbled nipple, earning him the smallest exhale from you, “You’re so fucking pretty, I can’t stand it.”

You take his hand in yours and guide his cool touch to the swell of your chest. “Touch me, Hiro.”

“Oh, fuck--” He practically dives into you, teeth sinking into the fat of your tit less than gently. With a surprised squeal, you kick from the pain, fingernails raking down his back, but it only spurs him on, sending him suckling noisily until your skin warms with bruising. The warm, soft texture of his tongue flicks over your nipple over and over again, trying to pull more and more sounds from you.

His fingers travel down your body, hands coming together at the button of your jeans to easily pop them open.

"I don't wanna seem overeager, but-" Makki plants his feet on the ground and bucks up, the swell of his cock right against where it wants to be, "I want you so bad."

Wordlessly, you take his hand in yours, guiding it down the front of your panties until his long, thick fingers drag through your labia.

"Can you feel how bad I want you too?" You whimper at the tacky sounds he makes as he fumbles for your clit. The angle is awkward, but he still manages to dip his fingers into you, circling slowly, giving your body that delicious relief it’s been craving. He starts soft, tracing lazy circles as she watches you with lust blown eyes.

"Oh, fu-ck, yeah," his voice hiccups with a moan, nudging his nose into yours, "Y-you want me so bad, huh? So wet for me, oh my god- keep fucking my fingers, baby."

You don’t realize you're moving against him until he says that, circling your hips to follow the pressure of his hand, chasing that curling coil that’s building inside you, feeding the fire that’s spreading through your body. Every sound you make, every pant and whine, is mirrored back through him, hummed back into your mouth as he seeks out kisses like he’s starving.

“Oh my god, you are perfect,” he mumbles into your mouth, practically stealing the air from your lungs, “Perfect tits, perfect fucking pussy- I fuckin’- I fucking knew it would be-”

You lean back for a full breath and Makki attacks the newly exposed plane of your neck, licking and suckling aimlessly, painting your skin with his tongue.

“Makki!”

“No, it’s Hiro- only Hiro-” he whines, pressing your clit slower, dwindling his circles to a painfully patient pace, “No more ‘Makki’, baby.”

You grind out a groan in protest, "If you go that slow it's gonna take me all night-"

"I hope it does," Makki says through his teeth. His touch travels lower, tracing through the petals of your pussy until his fingers dip into your entrance, bullying their way inside. The stretch aches for only a moment, replaced with the steady, rough thrum of his fingers curling, looking for the right spot. "I hope you sit on my lap all night, buckin' and whinin' and looking so, so, ruined-"

The flat side of his thumb nudges the raised bud of your clit as he kisses you again, just as heated and desperate and messy as you want it to be. Every now and again, he breaks away, mumbling a quiet ‘good?’ to check in with you. You always nod, a bit frantic, unsure of if the heat in your cheeks is from the stimulation or the embarrassment at the sounds your body makes.

All of it is too much, not enough- you're gasping into him, begging silently for more and less as you teeter on the brink, quivering impossibly close because you can't finish like this, you need more than the back and forth rub-

Oh.

Oh, actually-- you can cum like this.

It hits slowly, yet suddenly- you wake, grabbing for him, then the couch, finally yourself as everything that's coiled inside you finally snaps. You can hear yourself chanting mindlessly yesyesyesyes, but your mind is blank, processing nothing but how his hand never stops, never speeds-

"Oh man, there it is--" Makki grins, teeth pressed into your lower lip, cool and hard. Your cunt clenches against his fingers, thick, bony, perfect-- "Make a mess, there you go."

He doesn’t pull away until you’re boneless against him, forehead against forehead, nothing but the sound of your combined breathing echoing through the familiar silence. The blue tinge of night catches the ridge of his nose, painting his profile as he pulls away to look at you.

“You okay?” he brings his hand to his mouth and scissors his fingers, casually admiring how your cum glistens between them. As he drags his tongue up the length of his digits, the eye contact with you never breaks and despite the tingle of climax fizzling away, your stomach clenches with need.

“Y-yeah-” your voice wavers as your own hands begin to travel down his body, down the soft planes of his chest and stomach, tracing the seams of his jean pockets. “More than fine.”

"We can be done for the night if you’re wiped," Makki offers, even though his cock is straining against the thick fabric. You pop the button of his pants and he laughs, incredulous, "Don't feel pressured or anything, I’m happy just- aa-aah."

He moans openly as you trace over the head of his dick. Through the cotton of his boxers you can feel the slick of precum, thin and plenty, practically weeping from his cock. "Shut up and fuck me.”

You two separate, falling to your own sides of the couch to shed tour remaining scraps of clothing. His cock, red and straight, thick enough to you both dread and want it, glazes his stomach with precum as he beckons you back into his lap. He's adjusted slightly, legs on the cushions and back against an armrest as he welcomes your touch once again.

"I'm not gonna last long." Makki admits. His hands travel your body quicker than they did earlier, dragging your hips closer and closer, settling you over his cock, spreading the lips of your vagina over his length. You’re still sensitive-- sensitive enough that you gasp when a hard ridge catches against your clit. He’s not much better; his eyes slam shut at the contact and reopen unevenly, fluttering as he tries to control himself. "Watching you do all that almost made me cream my jeans."

"Gross."

He snorts, but the warmth never leaves his eyes, dark irises bubbling with the adoration he’s been holding back all these years. "You're gross."

“Apparently I’m not, since I almost made you cream your jeans.”

“Yeah.” The corners of his mouth sink just enough to turn his grin from hungry to affectionate, "You got a point there.”

He cranes his neck to reach you, dotting a quick kiss on your lips as he’s aligning himself with your ready cunt. A hand on your hip guides you down onto him and the tentative press, hesitant and reluctant, has you exhaling. Your messy cunt gives him little resistance and you easily fit together, your thighs spreading for the thick spread of him and the first kiss of his cock inside you.

“Oh, maaan.” Makki can’t seem to close his mouth, whining and hiccuping along with his stuttering hips, squishing your ass into his hips with short, quick strokes. His nails dig into your skin, urging you to bounce along to his rhythm. “Shit, ah, fuck- fuck, fuck- what's this pussy made of--”

You voluntarily clench around him, just to watch how his face contorts with pleasure.

“Feel good?” you say, fucking him harder, until the percussive slap of your hips fills the room, overpowering the steady whir of the overhead fan. You’ve had your fun-- it’s his turn now.

“Are you kidding me-?” Suddenly, his eyes widen, grabbing your shoulders to an attempt to lock you down against him, “Stop that, or else- aw, what the fuck are you doing with your cunt, I’m gonna cum--”

You bounce, despite how his hands squeeze against you in weak protest.

“Want it,” you’re fervent, pressing kiss after kiss into the crook of his neck, hands tangled in his hair for leverage as you bounce bigger, faster, hungrier- “Wanna feel it.”

The warm kick of his cock almost surprises you, each dribble and pulse making your insides impossibly slicker. His pink cheek flush brighter as he comes undone, his depraved sounds crumbling into a fragile chuckle. As he continues to twitch and tense under you, it grows stronger, until he's fully laughing.

“Aw, that was embarrassing-” Makki falls slack, covering his face with his bicep. “I’ve been thinking about that since forever and I came so fast."

You lay upon him, stretched out across his chest, softening cock still inside you. His spend and yours glosses your thighs, sticky and starting to cool, but you can't pull yourself away from his touch.

“Well, you’re just going to have to do better next time.” you coo.

“I'm going to pretend that didn't bruise my ego a little." he says, "Do you need anything? Shower, food, Gatorade?"

"Just a hug."

"That I can do." Together, you both settle, the skinship new and yet so familiar as he wraps his arms around you. The rhythmic inhale and exhale you both share almost has you nodding off, the emotional stress (and physical) leaving you drained.

"For the record, I didn't confess just to fuck you," The low rumble of his voice rouse you just enough to look at his face, still smiling wildly,. "I mean, I was hoping it'd be included in the deal, but it wasn't my top priority.”

"Sex wasn't your top priority? You must really love me."

"Oh, I do." he says it with the same assurance he did the first time. He loves you and he knows it.

“We'll talk.” you state, “About all this. Preferably when we both have pants on."

"Sure, whatever works." he says, “Whatever you what, as long as it’s together.”

Your friendship has always been summer.

Maybe, you think to yourself, it would be nice to let it mature into a colorful autumn. Something different, something new-

But still a season you can call your own.

#haikyuu x reader #hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki x reader

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emblemxeno · 9 months

Text

Definitive “Feelings On 3H” Post

So I’m making one big post on my feelings on major things worth discussing about 3H and how I feel about it. Don’t feel obligated to really interact with this one much, it’s mostly just for my sake, as something I can just link to and say “go to section X about how I feel about Y”.

The reason behind this is I just don’t really want to actively engage in 3H discourse anymore. I feel as if I’m a broken record at this point. If I have new things to say about it somehow, I’ll say it, but for the most part, I’ll refer people to this if they wanna know how I feel about general 3H talk.

Story

Story Section 1- General narrative feelings on each route.

Azure Moon is, in my opinion, the most solidly constructed route in terms of writing, character development, and storytelling. It knows what it wants to accomplish and, aside from a few gripes, I will always applaud it for that. Verdant Wind and Silver Snow meanwhile, aren’t bad and I certainly didn’t have a terrible time playing through them. However, the unique story bits in each route don’t justify the gameplay experience you have to work through in order to get to them. Still, the big reveals in each route were nice to hear for the first time, and specifically for VW I enjoy Claude very much. Crimson Flower I don’t enjoy that much at all. Its story is what I can only describe as a static, eye-roll inducing victory march, which makes up for its lack of length with its seemingly intentional negative character development; everyone is ignorant, an asshole, or sad as fuck aside from the CF exlcusive cast. I would give the route props had the game bothered to stand in its foundation rather than flounder and make numerous attempts to depict every perspective as absolutely equally valid and righteous.

Story Section 2- In trying to appeal to every perspective, the game lacks focus, foundation, and respect for itself.

It should be expected that a game with multiple routes tackle different specific subjects. However, in Fire Emblem, there always, always manages to be a unifying theme or foundational story philosophy-an Aesopian type moral if you will-no matter the route. Alm and Celica learn that their one individual philosophies can’t exist on their own, and that leadership requires strength and compassion of equal measure. Eirika and Ephraim learn that personal wishes must take a backseat for the good of Renais and Magvel as a whole, as their routes in FE8 use their own weaknesses to develop them as leaders and royalty. Corrin’s one constant in the Fates games is that conflict is inherently meaningless and does nothing but perpetuate a brutal cycle of hatred, vengeance, and violence.

Even in games like FE7 and FE10, where the technical ‘route splits’ are more unconventional, there’s still unifying themes that manage to wrap back around at the end (7′s ‘single-minded pursuit of justice and strength/power to protect can actively hurt you and those around you, especially if you are ignorant to the pain others are going through’ and 10′s ‘people have as much capacity to be good as they have to be evil, they will hurt each other due to petty misunderstandings and bigoted views, however, they are worthy of living as they are because of the ability to grow, change, and aspire to something better’).

3H, to put it simply, does not have any grand unifying theme unique to itself. The closest examples I can think of is ‘It’s worth it to reach out to those around you to share your pain so you don’t become engulfed in it’ and ‘no matter what side you fight for, war makes everyday life a living hell for everyone’.

But to me, both of those things are just... basic truths and story elements present in every dialogue heavy FE game. War has been showcased as being terrible since FE1, where characters were held hostage, threatened to fight for a cause they didn’t believe in, innocent villages were destroyed, there was a literal child slave market, etc. And sharing your pain with those close to you in order to bear life’s challenges has been a constant trope with many FE characters, story significant or otherwise, since at least FE6 with Guninivere (probably earlier if I’m missing something from FE4 or 5). The only difference is that 3H has a fun little song to go with it.

That leaves the specific themes of each route and perspective, but because each leading character is so different from the other, and the writers didn’t want to overtly favor one over the rest, every dialogue regarding these things feels compromised; half baked, or lacking a point.

‘Crests are symbolic of a harmful power structure but also are a symbol of justice used to ward away threats but also are a tool used to gain social and political capital in order to change the world but also are an ancient power obtained through destruction that must be used with wisdom.’ Four different perspectives from four different routes that the game attempts to depict in a balance in almost every single dialogue regarding them. And this same process is applicable to the game’s attempts at discussing race/ethnicity, xenophobia, classism, religious views, mental health, etc. There always has to be two, three, four, or five sides to every story in 3H, and that results in an exhuasting and stretched thin narrative that, in its attempts to appeal to everyone, ends up lacking substance in every point it tries to make.

Now, that itself would make for a fascinating and meta theme for the game to uphold, where ‘attempts at trying to balance and accept every perspective leads to an ineffective world that desperately needs unwavering, unconditional, and compassionate leadership’ but 1) that would require the game to play up the need for ‘seeing every side’ as something to be deconstructed, and the game doesn’t do that, it’s played painfully straight, and 2) when it’s one major power (Edelgard) vs. three major powers (Dimitri, Claude, and Rhea), the attempt at balance fails no matter what you do. This lack of focus reads to me that there was lack of respect for the game’s story itself.

Story Section 3- “It insists upon itself, Lois.”

Every time I think about the finer details of story bits in 3H I don’t care for, my brain always comes back to that Family Guy scene where Peter talks about not caring for The Godfather and saying that it’s because the movie insists upon itself. Now, that was done for comedy, but for 3H I must say that it’s a perfect sentence to use. 3H insists upon itself. This is in spite of the fact that there’s no one unifying point that it’s trying to convey to the player, beyond what any other FE games was able to do. So to make up for that, each small instance reads like the game beating the player over the head with whatever minute moral or lesson it’s trying to convey.

Crests are bad? Roll out the Edelgard, Sylvain, or Lysithea dialogue saying so. Church is sus? Get Edelgard or occasionally Claude. Nobles are pretentious? Get the sad NPCs or the few actual commoner characters to imply it. War is bad and cruel? Fire the next “Sad Dorothea” dialogue at the player’s face. Interactions feel artificial, ostentatious even. Part of that is because there’s no other way to get these points across due to Byleth being a silent avatar, the other part though? Feels as if the writers were overtly proud of themselves. “Wow, the war means Bernadetta leaves her room more often, isn’t that a sign that it really changes people?” Yeah, no shit.

Perhaps the most egregious example is the endless instances of the game pushing the idea that there’s “no good side” in war or that “war is a battle of ideals and no one is fully correct” or other moments that want the player to know how deep and Morally Gray the narrative is. It’s cheap and inauthentic, especially when you have a faction like the Slithers. You can’t prop up Gray Morality and have an inarguably evil underground terrorist group.

To be crude, this game explains things to you like you’re five despite being rated T for teens in a series catered mostly to young adults. I get the point you’re trying to make, you did it poorly, now stop repeating yourself, your final grade is a D+.

Story Section 4- 3H likes spectacle over substance.

3H revels in being showy over being constructive. There’s great moments, but there’s not a great plot.

For example, Byleth has many flashy moments that show how awesome they are! They’re connected to a goddess, they can wind back time, they have a super cool historical sword, they’re a top tier mercenary, they’re a great teacher, they’re next in line for Archbishop or the throne for all of Fodlan, their Crest is the game’s version of the Fire Emblem!

Cool! What’s the significance behind all these choices in the writing room? Seemingly next to nothing other than it sounded cool. That’s how it feels anyway.

The SotC doesn’t do anything in the story beyond be Sothis’ bones, likewise the Crest of Flames is nothing other than symbolic since it lacks gameplay or story significance beyond “main characters have it”, Divine Pulse has weak narrative justification for what should be a simple gameplay exclusive rewind, the goddess in question is an underutilized character who checks out before part 1 ends, there’s no gameplay basis showcasing that they’re any better at fighting than their students, and every high level position Byleth is granted makes no sense for them to have given what little established character we get.

That’s 3H in a nutshell. Crests don’t matter other than to be a story device. Being noble or commoner doesn’t matter. The hidden technology doesn’t matter. Abyss is a joke. And on and on and on. 3H profits off of being enticing and cool looking for the sake of it, without actually utilizing or explaining any of this flashy stuff that matters for a video game medium. It makes for underwhelming gameplay and artificial characters. Example, for as much as I love Yuri, take a few minutes to read his backstory; it’s batshit and nigh unbelievable. And it’s indicative of the fact that 3H cares more about including things that sound cool than it does about making sense of anything. We see the impact, but never any material significance, which is the opposite of what you want in a detail oriented narrative like this.

Story Section 5- 3H has very gross tropes.

During 3H’s first year of being out, I desperately wanted to stay true to a view that “hey now, just because it’s depicted like this, doesn’t mean we should blast it, it’s just a video game” but, y’know. I grew up. And part of growing up is recognizing the nuanced parts of these kinds of things.

I won’t accuse the writers of being actively ignorant or bigoted, cuz I don’t know anything about them. But fuck. Fuck, does this game read worse and worse over the years in terms of how utterly terribly it handles sensitive issues.

Multiple brown characters treated like trash by the white/pale majority, with countries said brown characters hail from described as savage and animalistic. Rampant misogynistic tropes, most notably selling women off to be married. Strange, and incessant sympathy for the character starting a war that upends the lives of common people, said character also allowing human experimentation to occur. The offensive and archaic handling of mental illnesses, specifically anxiety disorders, personality disorders, and PTSD in certain instances (IMO only Dimitri and Marianne are done with any sort of grace). And that’s just the explicit stuff! Just the other day I was talking about how there’s incredibly disturbing anti-Semitic undertones regarding the Empire (confirmed to be based on Germany btw) and the Nabateans, something that’s, at times, uncritically repeated by people in this game’s community. This game is mired in terrible allegories and metaphors, which make me cringe the more I think about the real world implications that these lines of thought can have on people in volatile corners of the Internet.

And the kicker is that the writers are so committed to making these things relate to Crests or nobility, as if either of those things are strictly the reason why oppression or discrimination occurs.

The game employs drastic harmful stereotypes, and undercuts all of them by foisting its half-baked unique gameplay/lore toy onto the conversations. It fumbles the ball and didn’t even clean up the mess well.

Characters

I have a tier list of how much I enjoy the characters right here.

Long story short, when the characters are good, they’re good. Like, holy fuck, love them. But when they’re bad? Throw them away. Can’t stand them. And sometimes characters fall in the middle where I see the good but they’re at times written in ways that piss me off.

Worldbuilding/Setting - More is not always better

First off, when you make a character tell the player “Go read in the library for lore”, you’ve lost me. There’s nothing fun and interesting in 3H as a game for you to read in the library.

Fire Emblem’s gameplay cycle doesn’t mesh too well with the typical JRPG standard of storytelling, so the common solutions to building the world and crafting the stories was 1) make as much use as possible of cutscenes, art/cgs, and narrations to communicate the important details before and after battles and/or 2) make an intuitive inclusion to ‘break the pace’ between maps, such as a home base, in order to supplement what’s already present. Alongside this, support conversations were an ingenious tool to develop the characters and the world at the same time, as your varied and quirky cast can help you infer what their place of origin is like. Plus, the game actively rewards the player for seeking this auxiliary information out, granting extra stat bonuses when you purposefully put characters next to each other.

3H, on paper, understands this well. However, the game has too many minute details for a typical FE game structure to handle. The devs themselves even said the game became a “living creature on its own” and claimed no one on the team knows everything about 3H’s story or world. Ignoring how that’s a serious flaw for a video game narrative, what this ultimately means is that since cutscnes and a standard base can’t cut it, we need more and more and more. Libraries, side quests, tea time, ally notes, gifts, NPCs that exposit at you, etc. The DLC even added another damn library for you to sift through, as if the first one wasn’t a pain already.

And though these little flavor texts, landmarks, and set pieces are fun to read about... that’s it. The game hardly uses any of it. It’s flavor without substance, once again. It’s why half the fucking fandom is confused every other day when you bring up these tertiary details as evidence to prove a point, since the active story is too busy trying to weave the other 600 plot threads together to use any of it. That means, for all of this supposed great details regarding each nation and the important territories, we hardly see a damn thing that’s actually different. More is not always better, and in this case, it’s actively worse for both the game experience and the community experience. Not a good look for a game that the devs explicitly wanted people to talk to each other about.

As a fan of FE ever since 2013, who has gone back to play several of the games to see how they tick, 3H’s methods of describing its setting are just so antithetical to what makes the series enjoyable, and for so little reward. It sounds hypocritical given that I love Fates and Engage, but those games actively set up their glorified bases to be as unintrusive as you want them to be. 3H, however, has its gameplay built around a boring and unintuitive cycle.

Gameplay- Fire Emblem but half the time you’re not playing Fire Emblem

Gameplay Section 1-Monastery

The monastery is the most debated gameplay aspect of 3H, and IMO, for good reason.

It sucks.

Worldbuilding wise, while it makes sense that an important location is the hub for the game, that doesn’t account for how dull it is. 12 months and 4 seasons pass and does the place ever look different? No. A shame, since an improved aesthetic would drastically help ignoring the fact that the place is a bitch to traverse. For as fast as Byleth can run, they can’t outspeed the load times. Quick travel only makes the issue more apparent, as well. From door to door, and from week to week, you’ll endure more load times in one in-game month than an entire playthrough of a GBA FE game.

The other aspects of the monastery gameplay, such as teaching, activities, professor level, and motivation, while freshly fun in a first playthrough, become a repetitive slog in subsequent playthroughs. Giving gifts and lost items, eating meals, planting the right things for the garden, optimizing support point gains, using the sauna, taking care of the statues, etc. This cycle is not something I enjoy in an FE game, and unlike Fates or Engage, I can’t actively ignore it without huge penalty.

You can skip right to each main mission, but you’d be giving yourself a huge handicap by doing so; not actively teaching students at max motivation in order to maximize skill point gain is a huge detriment in the long term. It means longer wait for better weapons, longer wait for better spells, longer wait for class change, and longer wait for better skills and battalions. Now on Normal you can get away with this, not as much on Hard, and sure the fuck not on Maddening. To me, it feels like sloppy balancing on top of an already exhausting and dull game cycle. Why let the player skip months if you didn’t bother to carefully balance the game so that the players who do skip months could have even a small chance to clear the game? Honestly, it just feels as if they thought “people might find it annoying so let’s just tack on a skip feature”, and that’s disappointing and lazy.

Overall, I hope nothing similar to the monastery’s implementation is included in any future Fire Emblem game. It’s too antithetical to FE’s main gameplay structure, IMO.

Gameplay Section 2-Battles

To be honest, Fire Emblem has never been the pinnacle of balanced gameplay, and frankly I don’t want it to be. It’s a single player game with fun anime sword guys, magic powers, and dragons. So long as it’s not dreadfully easy or overly complicated, I have no qualms about certain classes or characters being better or worse than others.

3H though is a mess. A fun mess, but still a mess. Movement decrease to foot units means you want a mount cuz the game’s maps are big, and the speed penalty for cav classes means you want a wyvern or a pegasus. Physical units do just that (or maybe War Master for Quick Riposte), you get your dancer, have a Stride unit, have your Magic units and warpers where you need them, and congrats! You solved the 3H meta.

Half-joking, honestly. The game is extremely easy to break, the hardest part is getting to that point (after all, slugging through the monastery is a bigger test of your patience than anything else). Maddening mode, of course, you have be extra careful in the beginning (cuz they probably didn’t play test it cough cough) and utilize your combat arts and gambits effectively, and being extremely conscious of positioning. But, much like Awakening before it, 3H is very easy to snowball. Especially on NG+. That doesn’t mean it’s not fun, but it can get mindless. I don’t personally play that way, but even still, tools such as weapons mostly not being class restricted, Crests, combat arts, gambits, and accessories make the game incredibly simple. It’s a breeze, and only gets harder when certain things are stripped away from you or your debilitated somehow. Again, it’s still fun, because FE is always fun, but challenging? No. Not in a way that I find meaningful, anyway.

The maps themselves? Meh. They look pretty! Lots of small missable details that you wouldn’t see if not for the zoomed in view, that was a neat feature. Not at all useable for actually playing the game, of course, but fun to mess with and to sight see. It does make me resentful, cuz again, we could’ve potentially seen lots of rich, detailed, and varied locations bustling with townsfolk and entering villages to really feel each location. But alas, this is as good as we get.

Anyway, the maps are...fine-ish? Part 1′s maps are seared into my brain, for better and for worse (mostly worse) cuz you have to play them at least 3 different times for all the routes. Prologue through Chapter 5 are either boring, terrible, or both. Chapter 6 is the first map on my most recent playthrough that I say I had fun with in Part 1, then it continues for 7 and 8, then nosedives for 9 and 10, before picking back up for 11 and 12. In short, more than half the story maps for part 1 I find are either unexceptional or plain bad.

Now Part 2? Hunting By Daybreak is atrocious, Garreg Mach defense is pretty fun, Ailell is boring as fuck, Myrddin Bridge and Deirdru are good, Gronder Part 2 ebbs and flows between being awesome and awful, Merceus, Enbarr, and Fhirdiad are okay but tend to drag, Tailtean is alright, Shambhala is hot garbage, CF endgame is pretty fun, AM endgame is okay, VW endgame is awesome, Snow endgame is terrible. I think all routes’ part 2 is better than part 1, but not by much.

All of Cindered Shadows is peak, every map was good IMO.

Paralogue maps I have no opinions on, they are recycled maps with nothing meaningfully interesting about them that I remember aside from Dedue’s, Ashe’s, and Petra’s.

In short, the battle maps in 3H are okay for FE standards. It’s just pretty fucking insane how many times they get reused, so I got tired of them very quickly.

Fandom

Last but not least, just a shoutout to a very unpleasant community experience. Though it might be the best selling FE game as of now, it comes with the price of having some incredibly disrespectful, vicious, and ignorant fans.

Never have I been witness to or been the target of as much harassment on the internet as I have with certain 3H fans. Entire discord servers made to make fun of groups of people with differing opinions, taking over old blog domains to mock people, deliberately seeking out people who want nothing to do with you just so you can defend your favs, etc. And that’s just on this site! There’s editing wars on TV tropes and the wikis, mods on various sites having to do deleting sprees of 3H discourse, artists being harassed on Twitter, and in general just... inserting yourselves into places and spaces where you were not invited nor encouraged to comment. Some of these people lack basic human deceny, respect, and boundaries, and it’s not cool.

Part of the reason why I’m breaking away from 3H now is because this behavior is something I got wrapped up in too, and I’m deeply ashamed of it. It’s toxic, and not at all something I want associated with one of my favorite video game series anymore. I got real life things to worry about and other games to play.

Anyway, that’s pretty much it. All of my general thoughts on 3H, localized on one post. Sayonara, Fodlan Discourse, you won’t be missed. 🤗

#fire emblem discourse #edelgardiscourse #three houses discourse #rant #definitive 3h post #seriously though this stuff gives me metaphorical hives #and this will save me headaches and brain power in the long run

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as-u-w1sh · 1 year

Text

Lovely as you Are. Wanderer x Y/N

Genshin Impact Wanderer X Y/N Oneshot!!!

Summary: y/n and Wanderer go to Sumeru's festival where he attempts to confess his feelings to you. Auntie Nahida helps Wanderer sort how he feels and they conjure a plan for his courtship towards you!

Type: Oneshot and Fluff! Little hot at the end but nothing to burn your loins off! <3

Warnings: Nothing! Just a little steamy at the end! Helpful auntie Nahida trying to help Wanderer live his best life!

Word Count: 4.3K!!!

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Wanderer x Reader (y/n)

: Lovely as You.

The days haven’t changed, and the sun still rises with every daily cycle. There are days in that the atmosphere is clouded but that doesn’t mean that the sun ever leaves despite the nimble nimbus. The forest rustles with the wind as the sound reflects that of the unwavering waterfalls of Sumeru. The animals frolicking and upkeeping with their natural selves as they have done since time. No significant changes with anything external except….

“Amane”, a voice softly called within my daydream.

“Amane”, the mirage dissipated quickly. Real life taking within its wake. The green eyes of Lesser Lord Kusanali curiously examined me as she checked on me, “are you alright?”

I brushed her off,” I’m fine, let’s get back to- “, she chuckled, nonetheless.

“What’s so funny?”, she smiled.

I’ve been working with Lesser Lord Kusanali with what she generally asks for help with. Certain input or more tedious subjects such as establishing stable systems for Sumeru since the abolishment of the Akademiya’s corrupted roots. Weeding out the pests so that Sumeru could come back from the infestation that I took part in a bit ago even if I did wipe myself from the memories of everyone I had encountered. It is the least I could do but even I think that my sins cannot be atoned for.

It’s in the past now.

Currently, other things have annoyingly occupied my mind. I scoffed mentally, how absurd. How could one person plague my mind? How could one person nudge themselves into my whole being so easily as they did? Why does it anger me that I…don’t know what to do…with them? With me? With…us?

“If I may, I would like to ask what troubles you?”, Lesser Lord Kusanali promptly questions.

How do I explain this? Is there way to even explain this strange phenomenon?

“I- Not sure. It’s isn’t of importance, let’ just- “, she interrupted me, “it is of importance because you are my friend”.

“You have helped me countless times, so it is fair that I care about you”, she smiles widely. I couldn’t help but be taken aback by her sheer outpour of care towards me. Lesser Lord…no, Buer…is a benevolent and wise god. I should. After everything…I can…count on her?

“I- “, I sigh while pinching the bridge of my nose. I could feel this unfamiliar rush within my body, within my face, within all parts of me. Buer still looked at me as if she expected an answer. I still couldn’t bring myself to speak but she read me with ease.

“This has to do with y/n?”, she gently grins with her eyes closed with glee.

“How…?”

“It hasn’t been difficult to deduce that you have feelings for them”, she fidgets with her fingers.

“Feelings as in?”, I cross my arms waiting for this conclusion of hers. I trust her judgement in this because I have no clue as to-

“Love”, something within me chokes and I cough while gawking at her. Buer still happy as can be, how can she make such an accusation? “I doubt it- I”, she cuts me off, “you feel affection for y/n. It’s perfectly normal for one to develop a connection with others like this when wanting and yearning for a partner. Tell-Tale signs such as sweaty hands, increased heart rate, or constant thoughts of them”.

I could feel my breathe somewhat grow erratic and my hands shake.

“Amane, this isn’t bad. Listen to me, it’s perfectly fine”, she attempted to reassure me as I sat down on the floor dumbfounded.

“I’ve never felt this way. I don’t know what to do. How can I remove it?”, I asked solemnly.

I felt her small hands hold my cheeks as she guided me to stare at her, “is that really what you desire?”

I opened my mouth and paused before I spoke, “No”.

Truthfully, no.

Never. I like this rush. It makes me feel alive. It makes the air vibrate. It makes me feel like I’m within the seemingly never-ending sky. They make me feel alive. They gave me a name.

Amane.

“How about ‘Amane’? I really like the name. It suits you”, they put their finger to their chin as they brainstormed as to what to call me.

“Call me whatever you wish. It does not matter to me nor does it matter genuinely”, I shook my head. So much effort just for a name? So much effort just for me? What a waste. I don’t need it. I’m just a Wanderer. A nobody, no one to rely on me, and no one to rely on. I don’t exist anymore.

“Hey, you could at least pretend to be happy?”, they huffed. I rolled my eyes, “you get worked up over the smallest things, didn’t you just hear me? There’s no need for pleasantries” I waved them off to try and dismiss them.

“It is a big deal. It’s you. You need a name. Not just because it’s a code-word of who you are but because it’s something you own. You aren’t supposed to reflect the name. The name is to embody you.

Amane…is…peace

Ba-dump…

Amane is heavenly

Ba-dump…

Amane is the tranquil sound of rain

Ba-dump…

Amane is You.

You exist to me as Amane. The embodiment of heaven’s loveliest sounding rain”.

All I could think in that moment was despite the strange rhythmic murmur in my ears or the tingling in my fingertips down to my inner core. I could only take in awe of them.

‘I wish I could be as lovely as they are.’, I thought.

And just like that. They ultimately tied who I was to them. I knew that no matter how many years passed; I could never forget them.

And if they did, this tie would forevermore bring me back to them, one way or another. Even if I was named after the so-called heavens, I would rage my own hell if they ever took them from me.

Buer grinned once more as if she could read exactly what was running through my heart-sick mind, “there is no need to try and rid yourself of something just because it is new”. There was a creeping panic, “what if they don’t like me?”

All she responded with was, “What if they do?”, she tucked some of my hair behind my ear.

“You won’t ever find out if you don’t try. It would be best that even if you don’t get the response you want then at least you got some sort of answer. Even so, do not let one sour event deter you from experiencing all that is good in this world. Do not let your past hold you back”, she confidently lectured me while her small hands went to her sides.

I was just about to say something to contradict her but she quickly put a finger to her lips as if to shush me, “I have a feeling though that they feel the exact same way”, and that one sentence transformed my entire mental process. Buer is knowledgeable but I also know she can tap into one’s mind if she wanted to. Whether she has but never told anyone is something she will keep to herself but that was the confidence boost I needed.

Because what she meant was,

“They feel the exact same way “

Just as quick.

Ba-dump, Ba-dump, Ba-dump, Ba-dump, Ba-dump, Ba-dump!

As if she knew, “let me introduce the concept of courtship and must I mention that there will be a festival tonight in Sumeru”.

“I don’t understand why I need to court if they feel the same wa- “, I scowled.

“Hush now and learn!”, she swiftly quieted me with a determined expression and dragged me away to her data table to show me archons knows what.

I’m having an archon give me dating advice…

How irritating.

*Y/N POV*

“Well goodbye Traveler! Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay for the new Sumeru festival? Nahida wants the community to grow a little closer and to bring some new fun for everyone! I’m sure she would love if you came. I’m sure though, that if you can’t make it, she will definitely understand- “, I’m cut off as I heard incoming footsteps on the pavement within Sumeru’s City Square.

“Hello, you two!”, I heard a familiar voice.

“Nahida and Amane!”, Paimon cheers as I turn to see Nahida and Amane come towards me.

I sucked in my breathe as I laid my eyes on Amane. Sure, we have known each other for a bit now. A few months as well as when I got my memories of him as Scaramouche. However, that isn’t him anymore. Now, he is Amane. Me and the Traveler decided on the name even if I was the only one spouting any good ideas. We just decided to go along with it.

Even so, I couldn’t help but start noticing him more differently.

He is beautiful.

Even if he is a puppet, he is…breathless.

I can’t take advantage of him though.

I’ve never felt this kind of attraction for anyone though.

He is intoxicating.

He came slightly behind Nahida. His eyes immediately met with mine and I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. I clenched my hands as I tried to calm down my palpitating heart. I like to think that I’ve always been weirdly attracted to him but as of lately, it is unbearable. He ‘tched’ a small smirk as I looked away from his intense gaze.

“I was hoping to speak to the traveler about something, could I perhaps borrow them for a bit?”, Nahida kindly asked. The traveler nodded and Paimon followed as Nahida led themselves away from me and Amane. We were alone. I followed their backs as they disappeared and never once did Amane tear his sight from me. Archons help me. Nahida how dare you leave me alone with him while I feel like this!

“y/n come on”, Amane grabbed my hand and dragged me.

“Eh-? Where are we going?”, I asked puzzled as to why he just yanked me like that.

“Let’s go to the festival”, he plainly said as I looked at the backside of his head. Sure enough, he led me to the entrance of the festival. String banners and lights decorated the stalls to advertise a variety of items, foods, and who knows what else. The sunrise in the distance giving off the rainbow glow of the sky as laughs were heard throughout the area. Children ran around as they played games such as toss and pin the slime. It was such a nice and exciting atmosphere.

I glanced down to Amane holding my hand. His hand was slender and cool. I ran my thumb on one of his knuckles and it was soft. No calluses, no roughness, just dainty delicateness. As soon as I did that, he flinched ever so slightly, he turned to face me. He had taken away his hand fast. He ogled inquisitively but gently at me, “what was that?”

I couldn’t help but be embarrassed, “I’m so sorry! I err! I- “, I stuttered. He sighed and took my hand holding it up. He then put his hand up to it as if to compare them, “you wouldn’t even be able to tell that one of them is fake”. His eyes holding a distant semblance as if he contemplated his existence once more like he always did. “I think that it’s just as real as the one holding it”, I squeezed his hand once. Again, he took his hand.

He scoffed, “Shut up, you seriously say some of the weirdest stuff. How do you even think of that?”, he cleared his throat. I shook my head, same ol’Amane. Still can’t handle even the slightest bit of care or affection.

“Hurry up, let’s go enjoy the festival, or I’m leaving you”, he falsely yawned as he strolled away from me. I was broken of my heartfelt spell by his annoying attitude, “just when you’re finally nice to me, you go back to your old ways”, I groan.

“You should know I am no saint. Besides, I’m being nice by taking you to the festival”, he stuck out his tongue while I ran to catch up to him. Why I ought to-! I was stopped by a savory smell. I stopped dead in my tracks, “Potato Boats! Ah- I love me some spuds!”, I follow the smell.

“Oi, don’t just wander away! You’re going to get lost!”, Amane scolds me as I find the potato boat stall. I ignore him as I see the vendor cracking open some spuds and adding mushrooms with cheese! I run up and observe him while Amane walks to the vendor, “I’d like to buy one Potato Boat with everything”.

“Wait wait! Hold on- I left my mora at h- “, I panicky tell Amane but he shoots me a ‘are-you-serious’ look. “I wouldn’t have brought you to the festival if you were to pay for it. I brought mora, you moron”, he complains. On another serious note, he ‘brought’ me to the festival? I’m extremely confused as to what the context is.

I felt the slight flutter of butterflies in my chest slowly making its way up my throat. I couldn’t help but smile, “I’ll make sure to pay you back”.

“Don’t worry about it”, he made his way back to me with the potato boat as it held two spoons. Two spoons? “It’s so good!”, I cried out in ecstasy. Amane then had a bite. Once more, I was confused. Amane had expressed that he wasn’t really a fan of food in general besides bitter tea… Why would he…” It isn’t bad I suppose”, he shrugs. “It’s okay…You don’t have to force yourself to eat things I like, I know you don’t go for these types of flavors”, I remind him.

“I-It’s not that I hate it or anything, I just- sigh I’m not sure how to do this. Can you tell I don’t do this often?”, he asks a little disheartened.

I couldn’t help but laugh. He gave me an expression of shock, “I don’t get- “.

“Doing this with you is all that matters. It is the meaning that you are willing to try my favorite foods even if you know that they might not be to your tastes. I like this. This makes me happy, thank you”, he breathes out almost a sigh of relief as he chuckles to himself.

“By the way, you eat so sloppily”, he uses his thumb to wipe away some cheese from the corner of my lip as he sucks the cheese off his thumb, “I think it tastes better now somehow”. He smirks while the fluttering feeling in my chest starts again. He must’ve not have realized…calm down.

Calm down.

After devouring my potato boat, we decided to walk by some more stalls.

“Come now! Fortunes of all! Health or love! You decide!”, a young girl advertised while two cats sat near her.

“You! Come here! I hear Harut and Marut wanting me to guide you into the next fortune you desire!”, I pointed to myself and she nodded frantically. I looked to Amane and he just shrugged. Oh well, never had my fortune read before. I decided to take a seat before her.

Should I really trust these types of things? The cats were purring and rubbing up against my legs, “Harut and Marut! I realize you have a message but let me get to it!”, the young girl exclaimed.

“Nabiya! Nice to meet you! I have but a small message for you!”, she pointed to me again.

“About?”, I asked skeptically.

“Health? Not really important…let’s see…You will be pretty good in that aspect”, she mumbled as her cats meowed, “Love! Now, that’s super juicy! Now tell me about your love life”.

A kid is asking about my love life?!

*Amane’s POV*

I couldn’t help but snicker as y/n was put on the spot. I’m so glad it’s them and not me. I’m not sure I really trust what this ‘fortune teller’ has to say but I must admit I am intrigued as to what will be said. I don’t think I’ve heard much about y/n’s love life. Archons, what if they are already with someone and I haven’t even-

“It’s as dry as the Sumeru desert. There has never been anyone and there is no one”, they confirm.

The girl grows into a mischievous smile as her gaze flickers to me.

What?! There is no way that this little brat could possibly-

“Well, I would say that’s going to change fairly soon. It’s really close actually. Could’ve been with you this entire time actu- “, I cut her off as I grab y/n, “alright, that’s enough”.

The girl laughs as her cats’ howl with her. I’m sure the only reason why she didn’t ask for payment was because my expression was payment enough! That too close. Ugh. I have more important things to attend to at the moment. I nearly had my cover blown because of a girl and two cats.

This is so annoying.

“Wait! She didn’t even finish yet!”, y/n groans, “she was so close! You know that even I get lonely too, right? I want to know if I have a true love!”

Oh, if only you knew y/n.

(Time passes) *Y/N’s POV*

“Man, I wanted to win that prize so bad!”, I moaned as we exited the festival. “Those games are all rigged anyways besides why would you want a cheap prize?”, Amane raised a brow as we walked into the forest. “It’s the effort that counts! It meant that I would’ve won something! You wouldn’t understand”, I grumble.

“You’re right I wouldn’t. Because that is such a trivial and insignificant reason to want to spend an insane amount of mora”, Amane shakes his head. We walk deeper into the forest, not knowing where on Teyvat’s name we are going to. Erm-

“Um, where are we going?”, I turned to him.

“Give me your hand”, he held out his hand.

“Sure, where are we AaaaHHH-!”, I yelped as he grabbed a hold of me, and we went into the air. I gripped onto him so tight as we soared through the air, “heh, there’s no need to be nervous. I’m just taking you to a vantage point”.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as his hand moved to my lower back and waist. I could see the design of his hat behind his back as the wind gushed and fueled our flight. “Oh Archons, Oh Archons, we are flying. I’m flying. YOU are flying. You better not drop me, or I swear, I will have Nahida tear you to shreds if I can’t!”, I squeaked.

“Relax, as if I could ever drop you”, his tone sounded offended as I dipped my head into his neck holding onto dear life. I opened my eyes as we flew and admired the stars. Usually, the trees are massive to the point that it can be a little difficult to see the sky in certain parts of Sumeru. I fell in love with the view even as I clasped onto Amane. This truly is a gift. Even more, that my chest was fluttering. I begged internally that this would last longer. I’ve never been this close to Amane. His body is sturdy and lean. I lovingly sighed at the way he held me into him.

“We are here, listen to me. Hold onto me because I’m going to land, alright? Don’t do anything stupid, moron”, sure enough, I felt my feet touch the ground. I let go of Amane and I instantly felt empty.

Empty.

Empty and devoid of him.

I turned and saw the entirety of Sumeru and the shining lights of the festival we were just at.

“How is it? The scenery here should be breathtaking. There’s no need to thank me. I see little point in it”, he breathes out as he sits down on the hill. A tree that we are under as we overlook the beauty of Sumeru.

A tear ran down my cheek. I began to cry.

Amane jumped up as quick as he had sat down and came to me, “hey what’s with you?”

“I’m so upset that this is so beautiful. I’m upset that I had so much fun. I’m upset that this is all over. I’m upset…that I didn’t win that stupid cheap toy. How will I remember how much fun and happiness I felt with you tonight?”, I wept.

I could feel Amane grow silent and heard him take off his hat.

I wiped away my tears as I felt a small nudge against my arm. I sniffled and a small object was put into my hand. I blinked a few times so I could get a detailed view of what was in my hands. It was made of cloth and it had some limbs? I could feel that much.

I looked and it was a tiny doll. Not just some tiny doll, it looked like me. The same hair and the same colored clothes I wore. I looked to Amane and he was looking down as he tried his hardest to hide his face, “you made this…for me?”

A minuscule nod was barely made as he looked towards Sumeru’s golden lights. He looked up to me with the smallest of twinkles within his vulnerable eyes. “You told me you have one of your own…that looks like you. You made me one too?”, I breathed out.

“I…I’m not good at this. Yes. I did. I understand if you do-“, I tackled him as took him to the ground. He made a small ‘humph!’ sound.

*Amane’s POV*

“What gives?!”, I huff. I just decided to give them the doll and they decided to put me on the ground. What kind of thought process is going through-?

I look up and I’m frozen.

They are smiling so wide. The golden hue of the city decorating their face and their old tears as one fell on my cheek. The starry sky behind them as they had me pinned under them. The gentle breeze flowing through both of us as we just were here staring at one another.

I could never be as lovely as they are.

Ba-dump!

Just then, something took a hold of me. Inches to nothing between us.

I straightened myself up as they straddled me, the twinkle of the universe in their eyes as their cheeks flushed a vibrant red hue. I’ve been selfish as the previous version of myself. No disregard for the lives of others and I had vowed myself to start caring a smidge more. I vowed to not be as selfish even if I am the epitome of being a massive disgraceful persona. Right now though, I laughed at the world to forgive me for being selfish. However, I would beg for them to forgive me for my selfishness this time. Just this once.

I broke the distance and followed what human instincts I have even if I couldn’t possibly be one.

Even if every piece in me wanted to cower and run away this once.

Yet, I couldn’t dare tear myself away.

I gripped their lower back as I ran my hand to their neck and kissed them.

I’ve never been completely sure if anything I have ever done was right.

But this.

This was…right. This is right. They made a soft noise of surprise as I clashed into them. My hold on their body tight as their lips enveloped my own. So wet…kisses are so sweet though. This is…another taste I can acquire with just enough…just enough…I panted as I craved this taste even more. They whimpered as I bit their lip. Their hands scratching into my chest as they dug their nails into my black suit. My…heart is racing.

Ba-dump! Ba-dump! Ba-dump!

I felt the slight flick of their tongue as they welcomed my own into their hot mouth.

Oh, Archons.

The smooth wet muscle dancing with my own. I sighed as they drank every ounce of me. I would definitely ravage the heavens if they took this from me. I would bring down the sky if they asked me to. I fought back as they pushed into me, tch, seriously. Who do they think they are? I grabbed their cheeks and broke our heavy kiss. They panted as their chest rose and fell.

“More than friends, huh?”, I chuckled.

The blush on their face and the half -lidded look they presented me with drove me insane.

“You…I- “, I ran a thumb down their wet bottom lip and my mouth watered.

They then leaned into the crook of my neck as they grabbed the doll they had set down.

“That’s a good way to end our first date”, I breathe out.

“Date?! This was a date?!”, they shrieked.

“Don’t tell me you seriously- “, I face palmed myself as I groaned. This idiot was oblivious the entire time! Why else would I take them out? Why else would I endure their idiotically cute- I mean, stupid shenanigans?! Archons help me.

They shyly mumbled, “I didn’t think you would like me in that sense. I’m…glad you do…I feel the same way. Thank you for everything. This was the best day of my life…Amane. I love you”, they confessed.

I think I might combust.

“Well. I’m glad this is a successful start to our courtship”

“C-Courtship?! As in marriage?!”

“Well duh. I’m not going to waste my time on anything other than that endgame in a relationship aspect of a partner”, I scoff.

They should’ve known. Either way, they are furiously blushing clutching onto their doll.

Idiot.

My idiot.

---------------------------

The End.

#wanderer x reader #wanderer x y/n #genshin impact wanderer #scara x y/n #scara x reader #scaramouche #genshin imagines #genshin impact #oneshot #kunikuzushi #genshin scaramouche #fluff #nahida #genshin x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin oneshots #gi scaramouche #gi wanderer

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thenightfolknetwork · 5 months

Note

Greetings and salutations! Most people writing in say that it’s their first time doing so. I admit, that isn’t quite the case for me. I sent in a letter back in 1942, asking about whether or not I should medically transition—though of course the terminology was a bit different then.

I admit, I don’t remember the specifics of your response, but whatever it was, within twelve months I was taking testosterone pills. And I’ve been on HRT since then! It’ll be eighty years come January. I suppose I’m what you might call an elder in the community, though I certainly don’t look it.

That’s sort of why that I’m writing to you again. As you know, most genuses age getting older, but some age getting younger. My genus, whatever it is, does a combination of the two. I aged normally from when I was born til when I was 73. At that point, I died, spent about a day and a half decomposing, a day and a half un-decomposing, and then popped up out of my casket! My relatives were… surprised, to say the least. I think we all were. Regardless, I grew younger at the same rate until I was seven years and four months old, and then boomeranged and started growing older again. I’m currently in my third repeat of this cycle, putting me at about 375.

I don’t mind it, honestly. I know that a lot of folks who grow younger tend to dislike it, for very understandable reasons—being patronized by someone a fifteenth of your age is quite an experience. But aside from the condescension and not always being able to reach the top shelf, I think it’s pretty fun! Nothing beats hide-and-seek as a nine year old, and when I’m in the de-aging half of life, it’s always a relief to get my 30-year-old knees back.

There is another aspect to it, though. However my body ages, it de-ages in the exact same way, no more and no less. For example, let’s say I get a tattoo when I’m 27 years and two days old, while aging up. I’ll have that tattoo through when I die, and all the way back down to when I’m 27 years and 3 days old. It’ll disappear sometime during the following day, and by the time I’m 27 years and one day old, it’ll be like I never got it done. It’ll pop up again the next time I’m that age, but for those 40-ish years, I just won’t have it.

And attempts to change by body while I’m growing younger all vanish after the day—I’ve become very well-versed in wigs for this reason. I can change my body while aging up again (I don’t choose the tattoo example lightly; someday I’ll figure out a system that prevents me from getting overlapping ones), but it's a rather long wait.

Still, it’s primarily just a nuisance. I’ve had plenty of time to figure out workarounds and roundabouts. However. I’m almost 34 right now, and have about 14 months until I hit the date I first took testosterone. My boy-thday, if you will. Ahem. Anyway. For the past few years, I’ve been slowly but surely getting a body closer to the one I had when I started medically transitioning.

I’ve tried continuing to take T, consulting with other people who grow younger, even contracting time travelers to see what they could do, all to no avail. When these 14 months are up, I’ll have a form indistinguishable from the one I was so desperate to escape. From then, it’ll be about 20 years until I’ll have even a little-kid sort of androgyny again.

I have lived through this period in my life before. I’ve lived through it on five separate occasions. I will be alright. But every time, it hurts. Quite a lot. And I fear that these upcoming two decades will hurt even more, since I’ll know what it’s like to live without that underlying sense of constant pain.

I’m not exactly sure what I’m asking here, maybe you can tell me what my question is, but, um. Do you have any advice?

Thank you so much for writing in, reader. It's always lovely to hear from people who have found my advice helpful in the past, and I hope I can offer you the same comfort and support you felt in 1942.

An important thing to remember here is that, no matter what stage of life your body is at, it is still your body. To be clear: a trans body. Your physical appearance may seem to be resetting, but your life experience is not wiped out by each new cycle. You carry with you all your past experiences, and all your current perspectives.

You may or may not consider yourself to have been male during your first adolescence. The way we frame our own histories naturally varies from person to person, and not everyone retroactively identifies their younger self in the same way they identify in the present.

But regardless of how you perceive that earlier self, your current self is undoubtedly transgender. That doesn't change just because your body does. When your dysphoria starts to rear its head, hold onto that. Your body does not define your gender, and your identity is valid no matter what you look like.

Of course, you still need to find ways to manage that dysphoria when it happens. I'm sure you're well aware of your options for temporary, daily management of your appearance through wigs, gender affirming clothing, and so on. You might also consider applying a glamour to yourself to help your outward appearance more closely match your inner self.

If you're not a practitioner yourself, you can either use ready-made glamours or hire a practitioner to craft one to your own specifications. Even off-the-rack glamours can be expensive, however, so you may want to save this option for special occasions rather than daily use.

Beyond that, your best defences against the anguish of gender dysphoria are good mental and emotional health, and a supportive community. Be sure to practise regular self-care (real self-care, not the type invented to sell face masks and scented candles) and lean on your loved ones as much as you need to during this difficult period.

Finally, remember: your body is not the enemy here. You deserve to be treated with gentleness, love and kindness, and this extends to your physical self, too. Try to develop a practice of mindfulness and active gratitude, checking in with your body regularly and taking note of all the joys you can experience as a physical being, from enjoying the cold wind on your cheeks or the smell of clean bedding, to the delights of good sex, delicious food, or a hot shower after a long day.

This is a difficult time of your life, and you have my sympathy. But I don't believe it has to be a source of “constant pain”. Treat yourself kindly, let others support you, and know that no matter what the world perceives, you know who you are, and nobody can take that away from you.

#answered #the nightfolk network #monstrous agonies

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babbiweeb · 7 months

Text

love in bloom-kyojuro rengoku

(anime in gif:howls moving castle)

tw:n/a

initial tags:pre-established reader background, kyojuro rengoku, ruka rengoku, female reader, demon slayer:kimetsu no yaiba

genre:romance, fluff & comfort, meet-cute

story playlist:

something about you-eyedress ft. dent may

little bit-lykke li

ophelia-the lumineers

slow dancing-v

fall again-loona

authors note:well of course–i just had to write a flowershop au! kyojuro and a flowershop keeper? oh yes yes! flame boy and flowers all in one! i hope you guys enjoy, talk later!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Fall brought the bountiful harvest every season, allowing us to plant less and adapt to the changes of the world. Less planting, little time in the sun as the days grow short–an ideal environment that forces us to adapt to the change. Though, some see change as something they are unwilling to welcome. Change could be a poison to those who crave routine and structure.

However, as the leaves fall, the season brings forth the option to start anew. The cycle of nature serves as a reminder to us all that nothing is ever constant–be ready for the change as life waits for no one.

We simply must carry on.

Cosmos

The hustle and bustle of the town created an atmosphere similar to that of a working hive. Everyone seems to always have something to do as well as ensuring said task is completed quickly. Unexpectedly, this environment works out for the greater good of the community. An organized mess of the working class kept busy in hopes to maintain balance.

Just then, the quaint shop down the long strip of buildings had finally seen their first customer of the morning. Perhaps it would be best to say that said keeper works by her lonesome self. A woman that little know of, and yet, that same woman is seemingly selfless. This shop had been passed down by her family–she takes such pride in tenderly caring for all that surrounds her. A perfectly peaceful life is led by this kind woman.

Y/N-

“Y/N?”-The chime of a small bell rings faintly, followed by a much older voice.

“Ah! Mrs. Hayashi–good morning! What brings you by?”-Walking towards the front of my shop, I meet one of my best customers halfway. An elderly woman who resides with her family at the edge of town–right by the forest line. She has always been so kind to me!

Frantically, she speaks once more–she’s always been known for theatrics.

“Goodness dear! My grandson–as you know, has been courting one of the shrine maidens. It seems he is ready to take the next step and ask her to marry!”-She spoke with urgency as she began pacing around, looking through my early morning selection of freshly cut flowers. Mrs. Hayashi usually made sly comments regarding the young men in her family. Always reminding me that they could be potential candidates, I wonder–

“Though, secretly, I prayed that she wouldn't be as interested. Then maybe, just maybe, I could have you a part of my large family!”

Nope. There it is.

Her fragile, soft hands caress my face as her fingers pinch the apples of my cheeks. A red tint followed soon after she once again tried convincing me of marrying one of the many young men available. Warmth flushed throughout my supple face as I couldn't help but smile–

“M-Mrs. Hayashi! T-That is fantastic news! But I fail to see what you are requesting from me!”-I spoke tenderly as I slowly backed from her grasp. Her hands held by mine as I stood across from the elderly woman. With a firm squeeze, her smile brightens.

“Oh how silly of me! Of course! I’m not here to play matchmaker today!”-She teased.

“I was hoping you could make a simple bouquet for my grandson! One that would surely make this maiden swoon!”-Before I could even get a word in, she simply could not help herself.

“You know, since you wont marry him!”-Her tease is all in good fun, but a part of me understands that she is quite serious. She tried for months to get me at least in the same room as him–but to no avail.

“Oh please! You know I’m not currently looking! Besides! I know practically every man in town! I would know if any of them caught my eye…”-I snicker as my laugh fills the room.

I’ve never been opposed to marriage. I just never found time to truly settle down. Nor has a man deemed me worth courting. At least, that’s how I see it. Perhaps this is just my slight insecurity talking on my behalf. Though, seeing the joy and pure love of the young couples around me truly stings the heart. To be completely enthralled by the grasp of love–I wonder what that would be like?

Her pout speaks a thousand words as I continue-

“I will make a marvelous bouquet for the couple! I am positive she will say yes! She will be the perfect wife for him–offer more than simple roses and seeds!”

Within an instant, her demeanor switched. As if she understood a hidden pain within-

“Oh dear. You bring this cold world such joy, more than you realize. Your own perfection comes from simply living. Never forget that.”

Harmony. That is what I felt. She didn't offer much, however, what she said was more than enough. I told her she reminded me of the cosmos. She embodies the beauty of order, balance, and harmony. The language flowers speak has always been fascinating to me. So much can be said by a simple bud that hangs from a stem. Words to me are almost unnecessary-

Soon, after a brief moment of banter, Mrs. Hayashi leaves me with the request to finish this bouquet by late afternoon. Happy to fulfill, I bring along a wide basket as it rests on my hip. A small meadow remained my secret for the longest time. There are only the select few that know of this small garden of eden now. The vegetation there, even during the harsher seasons, seems to always supply the most beautiful growth.

As I walk through town, all is the same. The many faces I’ve grown to familiarize myself with all greet me with warm smiles as I pass the crowds. Children run across the road as laughter and talk fill the streets. With every passing face, my eyes eventually trail to the very end of the strip. A group of the local youth surround what seems to be a man with brightly colored hair. Bright, just like the sun–

Curiosity grows within me, but my legs seem to still lead me away. Holding up the hem of my yukata, I step onto the dirty path that strays away from prying eyes.

“I wonder why so many surrounded him?”-My mind is filled with all sorts of thoughts. It isn't often we receive visitors that are worth such a crowd. Who could he be?

Kyojuro-

“Greetings! I was wondering if you had a local florist? It seems my neighboring town keeper has unfortunately closed up their shop!”-My voice had filled the ears of those around me. A booming request as I feel my face brighten.

I have never been to this town before. It’s rather quaint. Character lies here, that much I can tell!

“A florist you say?”

“Oh yes! We have a wonderful florist! She makes the most beautiful bouquets!”

Many voices speak over one another, though one captured my attention rather quickly-

“Mrs. Hayashi had just requested her service! She may still be out, but her shop is just up there!”-One youth had pointed towards the end of the road. My eyes find a small shop, decorated from top to bottom with plants and blooms.

With a smile, I bow slightly to the young group. Lifting myself slowly, I thank them as I take a step forward. She may be out huh? Perhaps I will wait by her shop then! Looks of interest follow my trail as I pass by the crowd–it seems this town is yet to know the presence of a demon slayer. I chuckle to myself as I come to realize how strange I must appear in my uniform. My hand rests at the hilt of my sword as I approach the shop, sitting comfortably on the bench out front.

Her shop seems perfectly clean. The sweet aroma of flowers fill my senses as a wave of peace washes over me.

She must be a lovely woman. One that has been taking care of this little shop for years, decades even! I must show my appreciation to the elder-

“Y/N! Y/N! You have a man waiting for you!”

My thoughts are interrupted as I look to my side. My eyes find the sight of one of the young kids latching themselves to the hip of a woman in pale green-

She looks just like a dream. The conversation of the two goes mute as my fiery orbs capture her. That basket? It seems to be full of quite a bit of stems as part of them are covered by a sheer cloth. Could she be?

Within a moment of pure tranquility, our eyes met. Her smile had taken me by surprise as she seemed so comfortable at the sight of a strange man sitting down by this shop. Soon, her figure comes to meet me. Standing across from me, just by the front entrance, she greets me-

“So I’m told I have yet another request this morning? Please, come in!”-Her voice is calm. Her words give away what I had suspected prior. So, she is the flower shopkeeper.

“Ah yes! Good morning! Thank you for inviting me in!”-With a quick bow, I lift myself walking in toe right behind her as she reopens her shop.

She placed her basket down atop a workshop table that is full of vases coming in many different shapes, designs and sizes! Just then, I found myself looking all around her careful shop. Plants hang from even the ceiling! Vines trailing down wooden posts and into pots full of greenery.

She has quite the green thumb. I am in good hands–

“Sir? Are you alright?”-Her voice pulls me back down to reality as I look back at her.

“Hmm? Oh! Yes! I’m quite alright!”-My boisterous laugh echoes as I smile.

“I apologize if you were speaking to me! I do not mean to ignore you! I was simply taking in the atmosphere! It seems I still get quite lost in thought.”-My laugh now a chuckle as I catch myself.

My ears perk up for just a moment as I hear her own laugh. It’s reassuring.

“Oh! That’s alright! I’m glad you have taken an interest in my little world of green chaos!”-Playfully, she teases her own workstation as she begins to unpack her basket. My eyes never wavering-

“Sir, what is it you need from a florist today?”-She continued as she worked by her table, seemingly prepping for a bouquet. I feel myself fluster at the prospect of being called “sir” repeatedly. Given that we seem to be within the same age range, surely we can drop formalities?

“Right! Before I speak on that, allow me to introduce myself! My name Is Kyojuro Rengoku! I overheard one of the children calling out your name! Y/N? Is it?”

“Yes! That is my name! It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rengoku!”-An itch had almost been scratched. To be called Mr. Rengoku? She is well mannered, but boy does she make me feel old.

“Just Rengoku is fine! Or even Kyojuro! Please spare me, surely I don’t look that old!”-I chuckled slightly as I looked into her eyes, almost pleading.

Her laugh fills the room once more before her voice carries-

“I see then! I shall spare you the formality, Kyojuro. However, if we are speaking based on looks, would it be too much if I asked you something?”-She stopped moving entirely as she gave me her undivided attention. Without another word, I shook my head up and down, anticipating her question.

“That uniform? What exactly does it symbolize? You wear fire proudly, and I must say I am quite interested.”

Yet another one of my speculations had come to fruition–this town is mostly unaware of the existence of our work. Though, I have piqued her interest.

“Ah, a keen eye you must have, for how could anyone notice my subtle look?”-I laugh once more alongside her as our banter continues playfully.

“I am a demon slayer, working for my master to ensure the safety of civilian life. Officially, I am known as Kyojuro Rengoku: The Flame Hashira.”

A proud smile creeps onto my face as I witness her eyes light up with curiosity and adoration. How sweet.

Y/N-

Kyojuro Rengoku, The Flame Hashira? What an incredible title, and well, judging by his uniform–he has status. He must rank quite high within this organization. How curious-

“Amazing! A demon slayer? I have only ever heard stories! I won't pry for any details, just know that you have my gratitude!”-I spoke with such confidence as I felt my body grow warm. I am now face to face with a demon slayer, one who must be quite strong! I must fulfill his request with the utmost care!

“Ah well thank you Y/N. You are too kind! I shall take your gratitude to heart during my battles!”-A faint red hue dusts along his cheeks as he speaks. A brief, gentle hum escapes my lips as I acknowledge him completely.

He is gentle and strong willed, that much I can tell-

“Now then, what can I do for you?”-I spoke excitedly as I continue to wrap Mrs. Hayashi’s order. A delicate bouquet flushed with an assortment of pale pink cosmos, bright orange marigold, and white cornflower. All coming together to make a bouquet full of peace, purity, and fertility. Perfect wishes for the young couple-

I wish them well after tonight.

“You see, I wish to buy a bouquet for a very special woman. A beautiful woman who holds a special spot in my heart–my mother.”-He speaks with such fondness. The love he feels for the women who had blessed him with life is palpable. How sweet.

“In fact, I would love it if you included that flower there!”-He walks close to my station, pointing to the blooming cosmos.

“Pink matches my mother well. I always thought that she would look lovely in such a pale color! What exactly is this bud called?”-He asks, swiftly pulling me into the world of botanical knowledge. He is so quick that I fail to notice the hint of sadness that had crept up.

As if this had been my subconscious attempt at alleviating the tension, I smile as I hand him an extra bud. His fingers brushing up against mine as he takes hold of the stem.

“That is called a cosmos. They come in all different colors, and shapes. The cosmos for most, symbolizes harmony, order, and balance. I believe this would be quite the flower for your mother.”

“Oh my! How lovely! I did not realize flowers could mean such wondrous things! Perhaps you are correct! These may suit my mother after all!”-He spoke with his usual cheerful voice once more, bringing a sense of calm within me.

Caught by surprise, his hand reaches for me in one quick motion, placing the blooming bud just above my ear. The delicate petals nuzzle close to my hair as it remains snug. My eyes widen slightly as I feel my cheeks grow much warmer than before-

Why? Why does he do this? Is this simply a friendly gesture? An overly friendly gesture towards a woman he had just met?

The chime of a bell rings–

“Oh my! My apologies! Am I interrupting something?”-Mrs. Hayashi had announced her presence with a mischievous tone shamelessly dripping from her voice.

As if I thought I couldn't grow any warmer, my body soon felt raging heat. Fate truly loves playing with me-

“M-Mrs. H-Hayashi! Goodness! Y-You a-are early! You said you would pick up by this afternoon!”-My stutter has become apparent now as I shy away from him, creating a short distance between us.

“Well dear, the local children had informed me of a man waiting by your shop! And of course, being the ever so worried old lady, I just had to stop by and ensure your safety!”

Please. Gods. Here is my plea. Save me from this woman's dramatics!

Kyojuro had cleared his throat, making himself known fully. As if he is hard to miss to begin with-

“Oh see! Everything seems to be just fine. This must be the young man! Let me get a good look at him!”-Just as she does me, her fragile hands reached for his cheeks. The apples of his face being pinched and loved on.

“Oh! Look at how handsome! And a man of uniform?”-Her gaze trails back to me with a sly smirk as the gleam in her eyes grows. Whispers fall from her as she nudges at the prospect of something more.

“You know–Y/N has quite a bit of suitors! One of which had been my own grandson! She is quite beautiful, however, I find the men of this town not worthy of her company. Perhaps, we will see you often?”

The lies of this woman! I’m not giving a lick of my next batch of fertilizer!

By now, I feel lost in my own world, doing all that I can to tune the embarrassment down. My shy gaze every so often finding him as my delicate hand fidgets with the ends of my hair.

“Kyojuro, I apologize on behalf of the crazy village lady! I implore you to run while you can!”-Darts of my serious glare now focused entirely on her as my flushed cheeks fade.

Then, a moment of silence as the two of us look at him. The dead air broke as his boisterous laugh relieved the tension felt throughout my body.

His laugh is utterly contagious.

“Ladies please! I must take my leave! Mrs. Hayashi, was it? Ma’am you have truly brightened my morning! I may return often just for your humor!”-His laugh continued on even in between words. The way he treats people is unlike anything I have ever seen. Understanding and truly kind-

My heart filled to the brim with pure warmth as I watched on in complete awe. He truly is like no man I have met before.

For once, Mrs. Hayashi stayed quiet, as he respectfully left her side. Returning to me, his eyes looked into mine, making me feel as if I was the only one here. His undivided attention, now mine, even if just for a moment.

“I shall return later to pick up my order! Please, take care until we meet again.”-His smile was unlike the others he had shown me prior. This one has matched his eyes perfectly. His orbs of fire had almost sparkled as we locked on one another.

“O-Oh! Yes, yes! I shall see you later on then…”-My voice just above a whisper as I dip my head–a sign of respect.

“Thank you, Kyojuro”

With one final look, he took his leave, the chime of my bell signifying my hope to see him again–and again, and again.

Kyojuro-

What was that? That moment of time felt lost as I stared into her eyes. I had no problem upon meeting her. What changed? Or is it that this warmth had always been there, and I just failed to sense it?

“How silly”-I spoke aloud to myself as I made my way back onto the road. Perhaps time to myself adventuring around a new town will help ease my thoughts.

Her touch still lingers on my fingers from when we brushed against each other. I wonder about this woman. It seems she has taken over my mind–while knowing absolutely nothing of her. Do I see myself coming back here? Do I see myself coming back to her? I smile to myself as I place my hands above my head, sketching the tense muscles of my arms-

I believe I will make time for this one.

–

“Oh, so he’s the reason that you neglected courtship within town! Y/N I never even realized! I must say, he is far more handsome than my own grandson!”

“Huh? No! Mrs. Hayashi! This was just one big misunderstanding! We are not courting one another, nor do I know him! In fact, we just met today…”

There is a fondness in her voice, a hint of longing as she gently removes the cosmos from her hair. Admiring the flower as she speaks, and somehow, the petals seem brighter. The flower seemingly has a greater meaning to her now-

“Uh-huh…right of course! Well I suppose I shouldn't fill the air with any more of my crazy village lady ideas! If you say it’s just one big misunderstanding, then I believe you! A shame though–watching you two became such a lovely sight.”

Her smile widened as she relished in this new feeling.

The elderly have much to offer the youth–especially wisdom. Ever so observant, it is clear to all looking in, that this indeed infatuation.

Though, Mrs. Hayashi will keep this to herself and offer her own wisdom much later–maybe.

“Alright my dear, thank you very much for putting together such a beautiful bouquet! This will be perfect for the young maiden! I truly hope my youngest grandson secures himself a wife tonight!”-With that, she pays for the young woman’s service as she takes the bouquet, keeping it close to her heart.

At a moment’s peace, Y/N catches herself briefly, gathering her thoughts. Soon after, her hands work to create the most wonderful bouquet in regards to such a woman–a woman he is blessed to have been born from.

“What a woman she must be”

Y/N-

The chime of the bell rings throughout my shop, sending a wave of excitement through my body.

Why am I so excited? I couldn't possibly be this giddy! Especially over a man I had only just met! That’s right! This is just pure excitement from meeting someone completely new!

I tried so hard to rationalize my own fleeting feelings, but everything seemed to fade as I met his gaze once again.

“Welcome back stranger!”-I spoke out as I finished the final wrap of his bouquet.

“Ah–thank you! I hope you worked well despite the distractions!”-His laugh echoed all around as he approached. He wasn't entirely wrong, usually, I find it most difficult to focus–especially with her around. Though, this bouquet seems very important to him, which in turn motivated me to create something perfect!

“W-Well I typically tune that one out as best I can! However, I appreciate her company nonetheless, she is a great woman!”-Drawing back my stutter as best I can, I continued holding back what I truly wanted to ask.

“Would you truly only return for her humor?”

Or could there be more? Should there be more? Do I want more?

“Did you enjoy yourself in town?”

His laugh faded as he spoke. “Oh yes! This town is most enjoyable! I find it hard to believe that I have yet to stumble across this place until now.”

He must live nearby then…perhaps in the town over? What prefecture would that be I wonder.

“I’m glad to hear such kind words of the place I’ve grown up in! We do have some wonderful places you should discover! Like the gardens and parks! Nature is ever so lovely around this time! Vibrant yellow and orange leaves coating the streets…”-As I drift off into my own little world full of autumn dreams, I slowly lift the wrapped bouquet and hand them to him. A small smile curves onto my lips as I admire my work all over again.

A calm fills the air as he takes hold of the bouquet, all while I fail to realize how he now directs all his attention to only me.

“You have such a beautiful way of thinking. I never thought to take the time to simply enjoy the changing colors–perhaps one day soon I will.”

“O-Oh, well t-thank you Kyojuro! I suppose it’s much too easy for me to become dazed while I’m out and about!”-A gentle strand of hair tickles my face as I tuck my hair directly behind my ear. My cheeks have flushed into an adoring tint as my urge to hide has faded.

“H-How d-do you like the bouquet? I truly hope it is to your liking!”-I continue.

His eyes trail to every bit of the delicate sight. The colors compliment each other, filling the eyes with such soothing energy. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips-

“Pure perfection”

“You clearly have put much effort and thought into such beauty! You have a talent my dear! I appreciate this immensely!”-His words flowed from his lips as his praise filled my heart to the brim. But then–what was that? “My dear”?

Brushing this off entirely, I continue to fluster as I take his compliment head first.

“Goodness, thank you! I really hope your mother enjoys this gesture! Send my regards to her!”-A sigh escapes his mouth as he held the bouquet in one hand, while reaching into his pocket with the other.

“I will…now then! How much do I owe you?”-Tilting my head ever so slightly to the side, I smile.

“This one is on the house! Please, just deliver this to her! That is all I ask!”

Dumbfounded, his wallet in hand, he continues quickly after me-

“No! I couldn't possibly leave you with nothing at all! Please, allow me to-”

“You have left me with much more than you think. I insist you take this gesture as a token of my gratitude.”-Way to be subtle–though, something tells me this has gone over his head. A short and comfortable silence grows as we simply eye one another. I seem to have grown all too familiar with his gaze.

“F-Fine. With such persistence, I doubt I can argue against this any longer.”-He chuckles, putting his wallet back into his pocket as he now holds the bouquet with both hands–close to his heart.

His footsteps return as he turns to walk away, leaving me stumped at the sudden loss of attention. Frantically, I round the corner of my workshop, standing feet behind his trailing body. My mouth hangs open, though the words fail to leave me. As the bell chimes one last time by him, he reads my thoughts–will you return?

“Y/N. You are a commendable woman, one that I will seek out often. So please, get used to my presence.”

My eyes widen as I look at his back, admiring the earnest man in front of me. He will return for me, even if just for my service–I am happy.

For once, light in my life had brightened, fueling my soul with something to fight for. There could be more. I want more.

He is most extraordinary, very kind–How curious to feel so liberated.

“Yes, Kyojuro. Thank you Kyojuro.”

Daffodil

A light drizzle of snow blanketed the town with a piercing color of white as many prepared for the events to come. The time of rebirth is felt throughout the community as joy fills many hearts far and wide. December, the month we all look forward to as families gather around in celebration of new beginnings.

Laughter fills the air as rumor has it–the local beauty had found herself someone worthwhile. Off and alone by a bed of daffodils, her hands pluck from the root. Her breath is visible as the harsh cold gradually grows. Her mind travels to the warmth of a hearth, or perhaps, the warmth of a certain hothead.

September. Fate brought them together, allowing the most tender meet to take place amongst the growth of cosmos. Not much was said that afternoon, though, he kept his word. The fall season brought on many more moments together.

To reminisce proved to be just enough to bring on a rush of warmth from head to toe. She melted under the thought of just him.

Y/N-

The hush of whispers grow silent as I walk through the crowd of familiar faces. The looks from those who I have come to regard as family have become all the more transparent. It’s as if they all no longer care to hide what they truly think. I suppose I should feel happy. Happy that so many wish just that all for me.

“How silly.”-I spoke with a slight smirk creeping upon my lips as my walk came to a halt. Without turning, I continued.

“I know you’re there. You can come out now!”-As if on queue, my words sent the herd. The feeling of ice cold hitting my back fills the air around me with my screams. A shiver sent up my spine as I registered what had just happened.

Laughter once again fills the air as the children surround me, snowballs in their tiny hands. Brushing off the snow that stuck to my overcoat, I swiftly placed my basket full of daffodils down. My own hands now scooping the small pile of snow-

“Oh! Now you’ve all done it!”-I couldn't help but join in the fun as I turned chasing down the local kids. Snowballs flying back and forth-

“Who’s idea was this? Huh?”

“Big brother! Big brother made us!”

Of course! That big lug always putting the children up to no good! I felt my smile widen as I finally caught up to the small children, wrapping my arms around the three. Snuggling close, I make sure to drop the three kids into the pile of snow. Cries of “sister” pour from them in between laughter-

A cough grounds me back to reality as all four of us stare up to the man of fire.

“I believe this belongs to you my dear?”-My basket, now in his possession.

“Big brother!”-The arms of the children leave my sides as they all get up quickly to hug him. Left on the ground, I take my time to look at him. He isn't in his usual uniform, rather, he wears casual attire with a thick overcoat. Snowflakes sat in his hair as the apples of cheeks became that of a rose.

“So now that you’ve plotted the children against me, you steal them? How cruel Kyojuro!”-I chuckle as I slowly pick the hem of my yukata, ready to lift myself from the cold ground.

“Never! We love you too sister! But brother is much stronger!”-The tease never ends, and to prove their point, his hand reaches for me. His strong, large hand now waiting for me.

“Oh you know everyone adores you! Come now!”

Everyone huh? Hmm-

My small hand meets his as I place mine in his palm. His fingers wrapping against my skin, pulling me up in one swift motion. The warmth of his body combined with mine as we stayed quite close, now sent an invitation to the children to cuddle up. Nothing in this world could take me away from his comfort.

“Hello Y/N.”-He spoke softly as his smile brightened. A certain fondness lingered-

“Hello Kyojuro.”-The snickers became all too common the more he visited, even the children played into the game of the grown. Despite the loud protest, I have always told everyone how we are simply friends. Besides, the life of a Hashira, proves to be too stressful. As he has described it, it seems as if romance is hung up for now-that thought alone always pulls at my heartstrings.

“How have you been since our last meeting? I hope all is well!”-Before he could speak, the children had hugged our legs tight just before saying their goodbyes. With this motion, this gave us a chance to finally take a step back away from each other–a chance we decided to ignore.

“I have been well! I have many stories of my most recent missions, if you are interested?”

“Oh! That would be fantastic! I’ve always enjoyed hearing more of your life! You live so differently compared to me!”

He chuckled-”Ah, well! It's times like this I wish I lived a much simpler life. I must say, I am quite envious of you Y/N!”

He places my basket further up his own arm as he takes a step back, leading us back to my shop.

“Envious? Of me? But whatever for? Surely the life you lead is quite fulfilling! Most nights I lay in bed, wondering what it would be like to just be out there!”-As we walk side by side, my hands fall, dancing around his.

“While you are correct about my life being fulfilling, especially as a Hashira, I can not help but wonder myself. To live a life just as my mother described. My mother had always advised me to use my strength for good, which I hope I have done–but then, there are moments I catch myself thinking of her and my father.”-A short pause in between his thoughts kept me on my toes as I anticipated his story.

“They were always so happy. The love within them aired out beautifully, surrounding our home with such joy. That simple, domestic life–do you ever dream of such a thing?”

I had to think for a moment. Was this truly my desire? To live peacefully like he described? I never gave it much thought, even though that was almost an expectation of women. I could never chalk this through, especially if I found the one made for me.

“I suppose I have dreamt of this once or twice. I never expected you to be so fond of this idea–it’s endearing to hear a man speak this way.”

“W-Well y-yes it has been lingering throughout my mind for sometime…actually-”

A sudden shift within him as he caught himself. He wanted to say something, but this hesitation had stopped him. I wonder?

“Uhm…speaking of my family, I would like another bouquet please! If you aren't too terribly busy!”-This definitely wasn't what he originally intended on saying. There is something else.

“Ah, another bouquet for your mother I presume? She is a lucky woman to have such a thoughtful son.”

“Yes. Quite a lucky woman indeed. I haven't seen her in so long since my missions have picked up!”-He spoke as he picked a stem from my basket.

“These are different from the last bouquet you made me! What are these called?”

I giggled softly as I took the flower from his grasp-”Yes very different! These flowers are in season! They are called daffodils!”

“How pretty! Just like the last bud, does this flower also have some kind of meaning? You must tell me!”

“Yes actually! Flowers truly speak a language all on their own! Most commonly, in our region, they are regarded as joyful flowers! As well as symbolizing rebirth and new beginnings!”-I spoke as I gently placed the flower above his ear. Drops of snowflakes fall and land perfectly on the bright yellow petals. An instant flash of memory hits me like a wave–he truly is too kind.

Words fell short as we continued to walk, nearing my shop. It was as if I had left him utterly stunned, even as we found shelter from the cold. Ever the blind, his eyes sparkled as he watched me by his side.

“My side–where she belongs.”

Kyojuro-

Rebirth and new beginnings she says. Mother? Is this a sign you give from beyond? Surely the language of nature speaks to me just as you would have. She’s so kind–just as you were.

“I would like to thank you Y/N. You have truly been wonderful company these last couple months. I have been rather dull lately. Feeling as though I have been missing something.”

“You have nothing to thank me for! I am simply just as happy to be in your company as you are me. Everyone deserves a bit of understanding.”

Our conversations flow like the river, constant and gentle. We have only grown fonder the more we stay together. By her side is where I feel most cared for. Worries of my duty fade effortlessly the second she speaks. It’s almost scary how easy it became for me to-

“Now then! How about I use some of these freshly picked daffodils? Your mother never ceases to amaze me! The way you speak of her is beautiful! Tell her I wish her the best!”

Shaking my head slightly, I smile as I once again lose myself in her.

“I’ll be sure to say so the next time I visit!”-Quickly, I continue.

“So then, what can I do to help? You say your life here is simple! I refuse to believe you! Your talent takes up your time, I believe it! So please, teach me how to be a florist!”

Her giggle surrounded me as I pulled out a stool, sitting close to her workshop. My eyes glowing eagerly as I watch her every move.

“So the mighty Hashira wants to learn how to handle flowers? Well I suppose you can be my very own student!”-Her giggle grows into a laugh, as she prepares my very own station.

Now this will be interesting!

The snow outside began to fall much more as it stuck to the ground. The large bay screen gives the two a view of purity. A blanket will soon cover, but even still, many ready themselves for festivities. The conversation became everlasting, there had never been a dull moment between the two. They were always so quick to keep up with one another.

His hands worked alongside hers as they both made their own version of a daffodil bouquet. But of course, she was the expert. Never to be deterred from his own work, he kept up, admiring her along the way.

“Now see, the folds go here! When wrapping, be sure to crease the edges so that this process goes smoothly!”-Her touch has strangely become all too familiar in such a short amount of time. Those small hands guide mine as we simultaneously fold the wrap, tightly keeping the flowers in place.

“You’ve got it! See?”

“I owe this knowledge all to you…little flame.”-Her hands left mine as she remained close. Her gaze found mine as our eyes met. A pleasant surprise had been written all over her face. Perhaps this new nickname had been all too much for her? Too much at once?

“Thank you…Kyo!”

Her reassuring smile had sent a wave of butterflies to take over. Perhaps I am not too much for her. And that nickname? My name said like that? I felt my cheeks flush as I slowly shook my head up and down, acknowledging her.

Mother. I feel content.

The ring of the bell chimes through, grounding me back to reality as we both slowly pull from one another.

“I knew those kids would tell me the truth! Hello Kyojuro! Long time no see young man!”

On queue, here is-

“Mrs. Hayashi! Hello!”-I spoke while Y/N had made her way by her side. A slight bow by the both of us as a sign of respect-

“Yes hello Mrs. Hayashi! What can I do for my best customer?”

As the two spoke, my eyes trailed down to her hand carrying a decently sized bag-

“Mrs. Hayashi, I do not mean to interrupt, but what is it you have there?”-I asked as my curiosity got the best of me.

“Oh yes! This is what I had in mind for your shop! Such a good boy! Reminding this elderly woman why she's here!”-She laughs as her bag opens wide, revealing multiple carefully tied steams of green.

“The local townspeople decided it would be a wonderful idea to introduce yet a new tradition this holiday season! I hear most other towns have already adopted this!”

A gasp escapes the lips of the woman standing close to me. Y/N’s eyes had sparkled as she picked one branch up gently.

“Mistletoe!”

Mistletoe? Have I heard of this before? I feel this is rather foreign to me. Though, I must have read this somewhere before!

“Mistletoe? What is that Y/N?”-She turned to face me with the beautifully tied plant in hand.

“Mistletoe is a plant some hang above entrances as decor for the holiday season! I find it quite beautiful, especially tied with ribbon!”

“Oh come now! Don’t forget the best part Y/N! So modest!”

“The best part?”-I questioned soon after as my thoughts escaped from my lips. What could possibly be better than using this plant as decor? It is a simple concept, no?

Y/N remained silently flushed as my attention now directed towards the elderly woman-”Mistletoe is a new tradition taking over our quaint town, it is especially popular with the youth! It is simple really! Two stand under the plant and share a kiss!”

A kiss? A kiss. What in the world? I have never heard of such a tradition? Yet, it has become popular during the season? I suppose this could be a romantic gesture! How would she feel if-

The apples of her cheeks have turned into a glowing red. It seems she knew more than she had initially let on. I wonder why she left this part in the dark? Soon after this thought, my eyes immediately found the mistletoe in her hands, and how close we were-

“Y-Y/N? A-Are you alright?”

I spoke softly as my concern grew. She had remained silent since the realization. A kiss is truly harmless. Just two souls exchanging a bit of warmth–but then, why do I feel so differently when I picture us doing just that?

“Y/N my dear, if you won't kiss him! I will!”-Swiftly, the delicate hands of the elderly woman cup my face, squishing me and bringing me forth. Her paper thin lips plant a short kiss upon my cheek–satisfying the tradition.

I must admit, a part of my heart craved something more than this. This new sense of tradition filled my senses and overwhelmed my thoughts. Mrs. Hayashi pulled away as she snicked, the subtle warmth had left my cheeks as I wiped off the trace of her.

This kiss wasn't what I had expected. My eyes never once waived away from her. Her lips look so full, they seem to be ever changing. Some days I come to visit, her lips are redder than usual, or even pink! Her features change slightly–I like that about her. A woman who always keeps me on my toes. A woman who I can admire through and through. A woman full of mystery.

I wonder what her lips feel like?

“Alright! I’ll leave you kiddos to it! I just had to drop this off for you my dear Y/N! You both take care now okay? Stay warm, it’s really coming down now!”-Mrs. Hayashi’s presence had left, though our goodbyes were nonexistent. I couldn't stop looking at her. I want to be able to read her.

What was she thinking about? Why was she so quiet?

“Y/N? Hey, you've grown so quiet! Please tell me you’re still there!”-I teased playfully as I put a little more distance between us. She must be overwhelmed.

“H-Huh? Oh! Yes! My apologies! I tend to tune out that one when she gets to her theatrics! I really must put my bell around her neck!”-Her apologetic look had spoken on behalf of the elderly woman’s behavior. Though, this is something I have gotten used to. Mrs. Hayashi is a kindhearted woman, but yes, she can indeed be a bit much!

Though, maybe I’ll thank her one of these days. Her little show had given me much needed insight.

Y/N, I truly believe I can in fact read you. I see you now. Wait for me.

Peony

Spring had indeed sprung as trees filled with blooming cherry blossoms, adding much needed color to what had been yet another harsh winter. Spring brought on a new sight of optimism as the new year promised rebirth.

Each falling petal landed gently upon the streets, rivers, and even into the hands of young couples who expressed their passion through such delicate gestures. To kiss a petal, sharing it with the one you love in hopes to share a moment of privacy.

A new found motivation had taken over as in her eyes, she believes everyone deserves a bit of kindness. Though love, true love was something you had to fight for-

Just as the seasons come and go, nothing remains the same. You must fight for what you deem worthy.

Y/N-

“So then, what do the blossoms in the trees mean?” Surely even the branches speak to one another!”-His ever growing curiosity grew exponentially as the snow melted. Always in the mood to learn much, much more.

I smile before picking the perfect spot, just atop a small hill-”Well, I find the symbolism of cherry blossoms to be quite morbid. They serve as the constant reminder that life truly is fleeting. To symbolize life and death. They live only so long, still–they are the embodiment of beauty.”

The rustle of grass below becomes faint as we both lay out the blanket, swiftly claiming our spot. His hands drop the picnic basket right in the center as I cozy up, crossing my legs further tightening my yukata.

“You make such a tantalizing point. Life is fleeting–always passing us by no matter the circumstance. However, that is the beauty of being mortal. Both growing old, and passing away: these are the things that make being human beautiful.”

My eyes widen as I come to terms with his words as they ripple through my mind. He has always spoken so eloquently. He has such an airy way of speaking–a way of bringing comfort even during the most tense of moments. I will always appreciate him because of this.

“Oh actually! I don't think I ever asked you what your favorite flower is! You’ve filled me with such knowledge, and I am yet to ask you what you find interesting!”-He spoke, continuing the lighthearted tone as he unpacks the basket. A display of finger foods and dessert soon decorate our blanket.

A giggle fell from my lips as I spoke-”You are quite alright! Hmm? If we are talking about the current season, I would have to say the peony is one of my favorites!”

“A peony? I want to say I have seen that flower! Yes! If I can recall, there is a portrait of my mother and father! Her yukata featured multiple buds, one of the patterns looked mighty stretched as her belly carried me!”-He laughed loudly as he spoke fondly of his family.

“Ah, well, if the bloom seemed rather large to begin with it could very well be a peony! The petals are soft to the touch as they ruffle over one another! Your mother has wonderful taste, as the peony is one of my favorites!”

“I can see why! I always believe my mother to be as beautiful as that bud. I would often find myself looking back at that portrait! Please! Do tell me what they mean!”

“You are ever so kind Kyojuro! Especially when speaking on behalf of your family! It seems you have found part of the meaning of the peony. Happiness, honor, and love.”

“You flatter me so Y/N!”-He spoke softly as his fingers teased the rim of his cup, his voice trailing off to the distance leaving room for me to continue.

“I have known you for quite some time Kyojuro, I mean what I say. My hope is for you to fulfill the wishes of the peony. As you find all three, that would truly solidify my own happiness my friend.”

I felt as though I was ready to pour myself to him, giving him all the more reason to have faith in his journey. To find the one that will bring him peace in its purest form. While kind, he holds back something. If anyone is deserving of happiness, it is him.

“And what of you? Why haven't you been spoken for just yet? I can’t seem to remember a time where you boasted about the pure bliss of sheer romance!”-His cheeks turned into a tinted red as his eyes focused back at mine. A glossy layer adding such a beautiful shine to his fiery gaze.

“Hmm? Why, these are quite loaded! I suppose I am yet to find someone willing to share their life with me.”-Lies fall from my lips just like poison. My heart has spoken for me since day one, but fear drags me back.

“Well, how about this–just like a peony, I wish you happiness. I wish you goodwill and purity. I am sure you will find all the answers to those never ending questions very soon.”-Goodwill? So it seems he truly has been keeping track of the many flowers that bloom throughout the seasons.

My lips curved into a smile as I simply brought my head down, acknowledging him with a soft nod. Our wishes to one another nuzzled deep within, bringing a sense of fondness.

If only you knew.

“A second visit this week? My, my! What could the occasion be? I fear you will lose your status as Hashira with all this sneaking away!”-I couldn't help but tease him as I swept my porch, starting up my spring cleaning.

“Oh ha ha! They couldn’t get rid of me even if they gave it a valiant effort!”-He spoke confidently as he stood tall. His uniform is wrinkle free and clean. He just got on with no duty! No wonder he decided to show up today–poor thing must be bored.

“Your confidence never ceases to amaze me! What can I do for you? Perhaps it is time for yet another bouquet?”-I spoke as I continued to sweep my front end.

“W-Well no…actually. I was hoping I could take you somewhere? J-Just to y’know…”be out there”!-Within an instant, my hands halt their movement as I turn to look at him. He remembers my dream? My dream to simply be free to do as I please? To see our world beyond my own town.

I remember that conversation. We kept going back and forth even after that day! Always brainstorming different ideas of what we could potentially do together!

“Kyojuro? Goodness! Yes! Let me pack up shop!”-Dropping my broom quickly, I immediately waste zero time in collecting myself and closing shop way earlier than typical. The chime of my bell rang twice.

The first being when I rushed through, reorganizing my mess while moving all around. Buckets of flowers pushed to the side, as I put up each vase left out atop my shelves.

The second chime rang as I slowly made my way back out to him. A glance at my own reflection as I pass by a small mirror that hung right by my door–alone with him and away from town?

There is a first for everything.

Kyojuro-

That chime rang through my ears as my attention drew back to her. Not much time had passed since, and yet, she came out looking much different. The flush in her face had become apparent, as if she no longer wanted to hide herself.

Good.

“Ready little flame?”-I held out my arm instinctively, almost as if this felt right to begin with. A simple nod gave her away as she shyly hooked her delicate arm around mine. Oh goodness, if only you knew. If you knew much sooner how I felt, I wonder how many times I would have been able to keep you this close.

As we walk side by side, neither of us has spoken a word since our departure. This peaceful silence as we continued our stroll was perfectly welcomed as we simply enjoyed one another.

Mrs. Hayashi had met my eyes as I watched her walk on the opposite side of the street. Her arm interlocked with her grandson as he accompanied his new wife. Her eyes sparkled as she lowered her head slightly, silently giving her blessing. The happiness felt had easily transferred over to those closest to Y/N–she is truly one to leave an everlasting impression.

“If I may ask, where do you plan on taking me Kyojuro?”-The silence broke as her gentle voice spoke up, eager to know our destination.

“I intend for our destination to remain a surprise, but I can assure you, we aren't far off. I just hope you don't see me differently after today. You mean a lot to me Y/N.”

Her arm tightened around mine as I heard a slight hum escape from her lips.

“Full of surprises I see? What did I do to deserve such a wonderful man by my side?”-Her words were effortless.

“By your side? Hmm! Perhaps this is where I belong?”

“Perhaps…”

Her voice trailed off leaving room for our imagination to run wild-

Eventually, the street became a dirt trail, full bloom cherry blossom trees line up the path. Torii standing tall as we both approach-

“Kyojuro? Is this?”

“Yes. Shall we?”-Taking a deep breath, I kept her by my side all while bowing slightly. A sign of respect to the dead. She had followed suit, and every now and then, her eyes would find me once again.

Our walk soon came to a slow pace as we reached the end of the trail–we’re here.

“Kyojuro?”-She spoke softly as she soon came to realize.

“This is where I come often to visit my mother. Sometimes I visit with my younger brother, Senjuro. He was so little when our mother passed.”

We stood across from her tombstone. The Rengoku family name engraved-

“He remembers little to nothing of her. He relies solely on my own recollection of such a courageous woman. She filled me with so much love.”-As I fell to my knees, my hands clasped together as I began a silent prayer.

Hello again mother. I hope you are well. Today, I have brought the one I have been telling you about for the past few months.

Mother. I am content. Since your passing, my days have felt incomplete without your bright presence. But somehow, the heavens have blessed me after roaming alone for so long. I do not know what I have done to deserve such light, but I promise, with your blessing–I shall remain by her side.

Mother. I am in love. Since your passing, you have never once left my heart. I think of you day and night. But now, I have made room for another woman who holds a special place in my heart. I hope I make you proud mother.

Please, watch over us.

As I reopen my eyes, the light fills my senses. Slowly, I turn to witness the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Her head stayed low as she prayed right alongside me–her heart is pure.

I wonder what she is talking to you about mother? I hope she means well, especially when talking about me! I’m still just as boisterous as ever! I’m not as picky now as you may remember me to be mother! She has taught me a lot about flowers! The language flowers speak is simply beautiful, I wonder if you ever knew such a fact. Flowers speaking? Foreign I know!

But, I wouldn't have it any other way with her.

Her head rose as she finally laid her respect down. A smile curved upon her lips as the wind picked up, blowing through her delicate locks. In an instant, her gaze meets mine. Though, something once slightly hidden now made itself known. Her face spoke a thousand words-

“Kyojuro. This is beautiful. I want to thank you for bringing me here today. I shall forever be grateful to meet the woman who has raised such a tender boy.”

My eyes had illuminated the fire that I kept at bay within me. She truly understands me. There is no malice here, Y/N sees me. Just as she did. My memories are joyful because of you mother, but now, I wish to create new ones with her-

“I must ask, however, the bouquets? Two dozen roses? I don’t recall you placing this order with me!”-She gasped playfully as she placed her hand over her heart.

“Have you found another?”

Never.

“Oh goodness no! I simply wanted to continue the surprise!”-I chuckled softly as I firmly grabbed the end of one specific bouquet. The roses are still tightly kept in their place.

“Roses are special, and can be given year round. Like many other flowers, the rose carries its own symbolism. For instance, I gifted my mother an assortment of colors, as to signify how I feel so much more than love for her. Gratitude, compassion, and friendship are just a few feelings that I hope reaches her from beyond.”

“Ah, I see that you truly have taken this to heart. How exciting Kyojuro!”-Her voice lingered as did her eyes. Knelt by my side, she shifted towards me. Her cheeks had dusted into a beautiful hue, adding on the most desirable color to her smooth skin. Her mouth had opened ever so slightly as she continued eagerly.

“A-And the red roses?”

I couldn't help but feel a shiver run down my spine as it soon became my turn to flush. There is no going back now–as if I ever would.

“An observant eye you have always had my little flame-”

Give me the strength to make her mine mother.

Just then, the wind had picked up, sending a herd of cherry blossom petals to fly through. Whether by sheer coincidence or not, something from beyond our world had spoken to me. The warm spring air acted as my guide as it carried a small petal snug into her locks. My guard had loosened as my gaze softened at such a wondrous sight.

My hand raised slowly as I plucked the gentle petal from her hair. My fingers dared to linger-

“The red rose symbolizes all that make a potentially great love story. True romance captured all in one bloom. Passion, desire, admiration–everything I feel, for you.”

The Earth within that moment had stopped moving. The world around stood still, becoming something we never knew before. The woman that sits across from me now has my heart at the palm of hands–I belong to only her.

“Kyojuro Rengoku…”-My name fell from her lips as a hushed whisper. The look in her eye is something I will lock into memory. A new one, like I had wished to create.

“Y/N, please, accept my confession with care. My heart now lays vulnerable in your hands.”-My fingers that dared to linger, now caressed her supple cheek as I felt her lean into my palm. Our warmth sets our bodies ablaze.

“Kyojuro Renogku. You have always had such a way with words, rendering me utterly speechless. In return, I vow to always take care of your heart. I accept you with open arms.”

The hint of a wind chime rang somewhere along the distance as the man sat across from the woman of his dreams. The look of unadulterated love had crept up slowly. That wind chime, a familiar tune from a distant memory of Kyojuro.

The bouquet of love was now shared in between the two as the distance had soon closed. Their foreheads had linked together as they shared a moment of pure bliss, finding comfort and warmth within each other.

“Mother. Springtime made way for rebirth.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

authors note:well hello there. teehee! okie okie! so what we think? i'm super happy with the way this all came together! especially the goat mrs. hayashi lmaooo! fun fact, she's based on an actual filo woman i knew growing up. filipina's get more ruthless the older we get man. very persistent! (where are the grandbabies?) i wanted to also add in some seasonal fluff because my head has been in christmas land since june. (hashira christmas hc's incoming?) please send kelp. oh oh! and of course! i had to pay respects to one of the many best mamas of kny! ruka brainrot is also really real guys. i love the rengoku family so mach wah! alrighty! time to work on some more kny stuff! thank you for taking the time to read! take care and until next time!

word court:10224

many thank! -babbi₊˚⊹♡

-09/25/23

#anime and manga #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #ruka rengoku #kny x reader #female reader #reader insert #flower shop au #babbiweebwrites

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jinnify · 1 year

Note

Hai! Idk if requests are open but maybe a one shot about hyunjin related with chill?! Asgjkkdsh idk😭 ty have a nice day!

the dying star. — hwang hyunjin

pairing: hyunjin x y/n genre: hurt & angst (what's new) warnings: break up, cold and distant hyunjin, lack of communication, they're annoying and toxic for each other word count: 0.9k now playing: chill by stray kids extended note at the bottom.

— A DEAFENING SILENCE PIERCED YOUR EARS AS it settled between you and Hyunjin. Sat on opposite ends of the couch, bodies faced away the farthest they could. This was nothing new to the both of you, already accustomed to the hostility between you. The next day would be the same. A never-ending cycle of idiotic behavior followed by an argument so loud you’re sure the entire district knew of your problems. This always ended in Hyunjin opting to sleep on the couch, pretending that you weren't taking up his side of the bed. Recently, you started to grow tired of the constant arguing, often opting to cut it all short by telling him that you were going to bed.

Some nights, you’d feel the bed dip beside you, and you’d wonder if he felt bad for what happened or if his back had finally started to hurt from his hard couch. There were days when you both decided to keep it civil, mainly when either of you was in a better mood than usual. You’d go shopping together, tightly holding hands and pretending that your relationship wasn’t hanging on by a thread you were both ready to snip. Those days were the worst. Full of an awkward tension so thick that you wouldn't even look each other in the eyes. Sorrowful sighs would escape your mouth as you looked around, watching the dozens of couples walking around with genuine smiles on their faces as they engaged in conversations.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact day that things got like this. It had started off small. You’d begun to notice how certain things about Hyunjin had started to tick you off. After a while, you just began to find him annoying. You initially thought it was simply the result of the honeymoon phase of your relationship coming to an end. And that eventually, you'd get accustomed to Hyunjin. Of course, that “eventually” never came. At that point, you had started to emotionally detach yourself from him. Soon after, you noticed how he’d become distant and cold, never engaging in any conversation you were trying to have with him.

There was a strange feeling in your stomach as you watched Hyunjin as he ate across from you. That same deafening silence started to hurt your ears as you waited for him to say it. Whatever “it” was. “I’m breaking up with you,” he began, “this is obviously not working out for us, and I should’ve done this earlier.” He never looked up from his food, only looking at your hands whenever he looked up to take a mouthful. You didn’t feel as hurt as you had expected. You didn’t feel anything at all, really. You were more than okay with Hyunjin’s decision to finally break things off, ending both of your sufferings.

Maybe you had felt a bit hurt by that. A bit wounded by the realization that you had let this relationship die before it even got a chance to live. You tried to live without regrets, but this would be one of the few in your life. “I'll give you two days to get your things. After that, please don't contact me.” You made your way to your room, immediately starting to take out your clothes. Maybe one day, when you and Hyunjin are emotionally and mentally mature, you could try this again. But for now, that wasn't an option.

It didn't take you long to get all your things together. Over the past few weeks, you had been moving your items back into your mom's house, preparing for the inevitable. As much as you hated to admit it, you'd miss Hyunjin’s place, even if all you did there was arguing. You'd miss his bed more than anything. It would always invite you in, warm and comforting, even after your worst arguments.

There had been no words exchanged between you as he walked with you to your mom's car, closing the trunk after you put in your luggage. That same awkward tension encased the both of you again as you tried to avoid eye contact. Neither of you had cried or shown any emotion through this. He shoved his hands into his pockets as you crossed your arms, “hopefully, none of this was as pointless as it seems, and we both get to learn something.”

You were glad Hyunjin hadn't tried to bid you farewell with a hug, leaving it at the last words he'd ever speak to you instead. You didn't look back as you climbed into the passenger seat, giving your mom a slight nod as you looked out of your window and into the woods that passed you. You couldn't help but let your eyes drift to the side view mirror, noticing that Hyunjin was still standing in the street, watching as your mom drove. His arm came up to give the smallest of waves before moving back into his house.

It was strange to know that you wouldn't have Hyunjin arguing for whatever his newest gripe with you was. For once in five years, you'd be able to sleep without thinking about everything he'd done wrong that day, and instead, tonight you could think of what was to come. You were glad Hyunjin had taken the initiative to do this for both of you. Sighing, you lay in your own bed this time, closing your eyes as you heard your phone ding.

goodnight. xx

EXTENDED NOTE. thank you for the request anon ^^ i'm going to go assume that you meant related to the lyrics since they're just walking around a museum in the mv 😭 sorry if this is a little sad but the song itself is kinda the same way TT

#✉️ ⋆｡˚ ⋆ requests.#📄*: ･ﾟ anon.#stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids angst #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fic #hyunjin oneshot #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin angst #📁 stray kids: hyunjin

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number1mingyustan · 2 years

Text

F&MU☾

husband! seungkwan x fem!reader

Genre: marraige au, established relationship, smut

Warnings: arguing, cursing, penetrative sex, fingering (f.), multiple orgasms, scratching

Summary: ‘I hate you’ turns into ‘I love you’ in the bedroom

Word Count: 2.3k

(a/n: haven’t posted in over a week i feel so bad omg i’ll try not to let it happen again 🙏 but i still haven’t proofread)

The house was uncomfortably quiet. The only sound that resonated through the entire house was the dim volume of the living room tv he was watching.

You entered, grocery bags in hand. Your keys created a sound, which caused him to quickly glance over at you. His was quick to avert his attention back to the screen, completely ignoring the groceries you brought in.

You let out a frustrated sigh before rolling your eyes and getting situated in the kitchen. You began putting away the groceries, completely blocking out your husband who sat on the couch in the room next to you. You knew he wouldn’t be much help, you’re unsure why you let yourself get your hopes up, even if it was only for a mere second.

Your husband had gotten a much needed day off, leaving the two of you home alone. A few months ago, a situation like this would have been ideal for you and Seungkwan. And entire day with no kids? Just you him and the big empty house? You would’ve considered it heaven.

But now, it feels like a living hell.

The whole reason you went grocery shopping was to avoid him. But there was only so much to do before coming back home. The kids were at school during the day, so you still had a couple hours before pickup.

You’re not entirely sure how it happened, but somewhere along the line you and Seungkwan stopped seeing eye to eye.

The past few months have been filled with constant fighting between the two of you. Most of it was petty fights, but the both of you were so damn stubborn that it always escalated unnecessarily. It became a habit to pick fights with one another simply out of spite, thus starting a never ending cycle of arguing.

Whether it was over how much the nanny should be getting paid or whose parent’s house the kids should visit or what to eat for dinner, the bickering never really seemed to stop.

You had the decency not to do it in front of your kids because you didn’t want them to knowingly grow up in a household where “mommy and daddy are always fighting.” You and him continued to sleep in the same bed, but you’d hardly speak and slept on opposite sides of the bed facing away from each other. However, it was rare that the two of you acted cordially with one another. You found it easier to simply ignore his presence. It’s sort of like that saying, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

However, right now he’s the one to approach you. You’ve just finished putting away the last grocery. You stand up and turn around to walk toward the stove, only to be met by a fire chest.

You bump into Seungkwan’s body, stumbling a bit as you’re taken aback. It’s silent for a moment, he simply stares at you. His face is devoid of any expression.

“Are you going to cook lunch?” he asks.

You scoff at the insensitivity of his question. He didn’t bother to help you out away a single of on the groceries and expects you to cook for him without saying so much as a hello? Unbelievable.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you tell him.

“You can drop the attitude you know,” he says. “It was just a question. I’ll just order something.”

“Excuse me?” you scoff. “I don’t have an attitude. I just don’t appreciate you treating me like I’m some personal chef.”

He lets out a dry laugh. “Clearly you do have an attitude, you’re bad at hiding it. And I never said anything about you being my personal chef. You’re being dramatic.”

You scoff. “No I’m not. You don’t get to just walk in here and expect stuff from me like that. You’re acting like I still have to do shit for you like cooking and cleaning when you’ve barely spoken a word to me.”

“Some wife you are,” he mumbles.

You look up at him in complete and utter disbelief.

“Fuck you!” you shout. “I fucking hate you! I have done so much shot for you and this fucked up marriage and you have the nerve to say that to me? Just who the hell do you think you a-”

Before you can finish your thought, your back meets the wall with a sudden movement. Your husband stands in front of you with his hands gripping your shoulders. He doesn’t say a word, but he looks down at you with a dark gaze.

The air feels thick. There’s an extreme amount of tension suffocating the room. Neither of you say a word, simply standing there facing one another.

“The fuck do you want?!” You spit.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. He examines your face intently.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says softly. “Can we just- stop this?”

“Leave me alone,” you protest. You try to push him off, but his grip on you is so strong you end up back against the wall again. He doesn’t push you, he simply holds you in place. He needs you here with him.

“Y/n,” he says softly. “These last few months have been fucked up and I know you know it. It’s always some stupid unnecessary stuff and it’s ruining everything. I don’t want anymore petty arguments with you.”

You look into his pleading eyes. You can see the regret and sorrow in his orbs. He misses you.

“I didn’t mean it either,” you whisper truthfully. “I don’t hate you.”

He gives you a soft smile as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I’m just… exhausted. I really don’t want to keep going on like this. We can work through it right? Talk it out or whatever?”

You nod understandingly with a small giggle. “Yeah. We can work it out.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, tucking another strand of hair behind your ear.

You nod. “I’m your wife. You never have to ask.”

Before you know it his lips are on yours. His hand cups your cheek as he deepens the kiss. His movements against your lips are needy but passionate.

It feels so fucking good. You relish in his taste, savoring the much needed intimacy. It’s been too long since he’s touched you, nonetheless kissed you.

You just barley break away from the kiss, mumbling out a few rushed ‘bedrooms.’ He nods against your skin, quickly reconnecting your lips as you two stumble to your shared bedroom. The two of you are so needy and messy, you hardly make it to the bed from, knocking into a few walls on your way there.

Once you finally reach your destination, both of you immediately start stripping one another. It’s hard to keep your hands off when you’re so eager to be touched.

He leads you to the bed, lightly pushing your body down onto the mattress as he hovers over you. His lips find your skin again, nipping and sucking on your flesh. His mouth moves lower, starting at your lips and traveling all the way down to your belly button. He doesn’t leave an inch of your skin untouched.

Suengkwan makes you feel loved in a way you’ve never experienced before. Through his actions he’s determined to show you how much he cares. How much he still loves and misses you.The intimacy is enough to drive you wild. Your naked bodies mold together, soft touches providing you with warmth and comfort.

“Missed you so much,” he says between kisses along your skin.

You feel him slip two fingers into your dropping heat without warning.

“Ah,” you moan out. Your back arches above the bed as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you.

It’s been too long since you’ve felt like this. You’re writhing and squirming alongside his touch. He’s had two fingers inside of you for least than a minute and you already feel like you’re losing your mind.

Your mind feels clouded as he pumps his fingers in your hole. You arousal has already dripping onto your thighs and the bed, the slippery substance only making it easier to provide you with everything you need.

His fingers quicken in pace as he nips at your skin. He’s intentional about marking you up as much as possible.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper.

He groans into your skin at the sound of your desperation. His cock hardens more if possible at your whines. He already knows he won’t last long once he’s finally back inside of you.

His fingers seem to be hitting every sweet spot inside of you. He curls them, adding to the pressure building up in the pit of your stomach. You’re a complete moaning mess under his touch. It’s impossible to keep still when he’s making you feel so good.

He’s bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Coaxing you toward your orgasm. Making you cum is all he wants right now. It’s been too damn long since he’s felt the way you tighten around him, screaming and moaning out his name. He’s missed this so much.

“You close baby?” he asks, curling his fingers again.

You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “Y-Yeah.”

The knot in your stomach tightens, indicating that your orgasm is approaching even faster.

“Go ahead baby,” he whispers. “Cum for me gorgeous.”

His words are enough to push you over the edge. Your release washes over you, causing your body to jerk and spaz uncontrollably. Your back arches more as his name slips from between your lips incessantly.

His slows his fingers down, still refusing to withdraw them from your heat. He watches the pleasures overtake your body in awe. He’s missed seeing you like this. So desperate and needy for him. So so so pretty.

He gives you a few moments to recover as you come down from you high. Your breathing is erratic and your eyes flutter open. You look up at him, eyes meeting his immediately. He looks down at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes despite the smirk plastered on his face.

He licks his lips. “Good?”

“Good,” you confirm with a nod.

His lips find yours again, reconnecting into a deep and heated kiss. You’re so caught up in the feeling of his lips you don’t even notice him lining himself up with your entrance. It’s not until you feel him slip inside of you that you become conscious of it.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper.

The two of you let out a low moan in unison as he fills you up slowly. He takes his time with you, sure to let you adjust to his size after so long. He savors filling you up inch by inch, relishing in the way you feel around him.

Once he’s pushed his length fully into you, he groans into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t move, giving you time to fully adjust to him being inside of you.

“I love you,” he whimpers into your skin.

“I love you too,” you say, wrapping your arms around his form.

You push your hips up into him, signaling you were ready. He groans in response, starting out with slow thrusts. Despite his pace being slow, his thrusts are deep, filling you up to the brim.

“Feel so good,” he moans into your skin.

You wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to fuck you even deeper. You squeeze your eyes shut, holding his body closer to yours as he bottoms out inside of you.

“F-Fuck,” you stutter.

Your nails leave scratches in his back as the top of his cock brushes against that one spot inside of you. You’re sure he doesn’t mind the pain, but you know there’ll be visible marks.

You feel so good around him, all he can concentrate is on the pure feelings of pleasure you’re bringing him. You’re squeezing him so tightly that he’s barely able to fully pull out of you. He pulls out weakly, pushing himself back into you deeply.

“You’re taking me so well you know that baby?” he coos.

You feel him so deep inside of you it’s hard to respond verbally. All you can do is give him a few weak whimpers as you feel your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach.

Your nails dig deeper into his back as you feel your orgasm approaching with each deep thrust. “Baby I’m gonna cum,” you warn him.

“Go ahead beautiful, let go,” he coos.

After a few thrusts the coil in your stomach snaps, allowing your orgasm to take of your body. The all to familiar feeling washes over you as your body jerks and spazzes again.

As a result of your orgasm, you tighten around him in response. His orgasm too washes over him unexpectedly. Feeling the way you grip him suddenly became too much, immediately milking his cock.

You feel him shoot his cum deep inside of you. He groans loudly into your skin, hips lightly stuttering as you milk him for every last drop of his cum until his collapses on top of you.

The two of you lay in the same position for a moment, catching your breaths. You feel his heart beating against yours, your sweaty and sticky bodies still connected. The warmth radiating from him is comforting.

He finally pulls out of you and rolls onto the bed next to you. You cringe at the loss of contact, still feeling the way his cum spills out of your core. He looks at you from your side. He’s laying on the bed lazily, his fingers rubbing small circles on your stomach as he pulls your body closer to his.

“We’re gonna work through this right?” he asks tiredly.

“Yeah,” you say in a hushed voice. “We’ll be okay.”

_______________________________________________

#seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #boo seungkwan #seungkwan #seungkwan fanfic #seungkwan x reader #suengkwan smut #kpop

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davnittbraes · 1 year

Text

The Fourth Step - Chapter Twenty-Nine

Part of The World Is Light, Embodied.

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3800

Warnings, etc.: SMUHHTT like you knew this was happening based on the last chapter, there’s a pattern at this point in the series, let’s see we’ve got some classic p in the v action, oral sex (m!receiving;), I didn’t mean to make a smiley face there but it works so it’s staying, wall sex because these two are so horny for each other they can’t even make it to the bed at first, roughish sex, lil bit of squirting, okay other stuff like fluff so mushy it’s indistinguishable, disgusting amounts of banter, creative use of Mando’a but shhh just let it happen

Notes: I know I’m a week late on this update. AGAIN. I KNOW. But if we all close our eyes and cross our fingers and toes and just believe then we can pretend this chapter is on time, just like we can pretend Season 3 is full of beautifully poignant moments between Din and Grogu and lots of natural character development and logical plot points that progress our understanding of the SW universe as a whole.

Okay last thing if anyone likes to listen to music while reading, this song inspired this particular chapter and much of this series overall:

Mando’a translations at the end of the chapter.

Please check out the Series Masterlist page for more info.

There’s something else there, now. Something between the two of you - intangible, invisible, but there. Like the pull that had drawn you to him in the first place, brought you back together each time you had parted, but more.

No longer a simple tie but a knot formed by a constant, inaudible refrain, a rhythm felt in the beating of your heart, mirroring the pace of those words spoken in the cockpit.

I love you, Din Djarin.

I love you, tionas.

It tightens as you make your way through the hold, tugging you back to him every time you step too far away. His fingers seem to follow it, gliding around your waist, cupping your cheek to pull your lips to his.

A trail of armour marks your path, helmet the first to go as soon as the dark of the hold enveloped the two of you. His warmth is revealed to your touch bit by bit, flightsuit peeling away until only his thin underlayer covers the flexing muscle under your palms.

You lose track of where you are in the ship, the night cycle erasing your sight and the way his lips trail down your throat emptying your thoughts until all that’s left is an ache so deep you can feel it everywhere, the urge to twist yourself up tight into him until you can’t tell where you end and he begins because there is no longer an end and a beginning, only this connection that binds you together.

A heartbeat - yours or his or both - skips a steadily growing rhythm, catching with anticipation.

His hands skirt over your hips, pull them to his own - the motion is a little sharper, a little harder than the rest, knocking your balance off just enough that you stumble. He catches you easily, reversing momentum to push you back against the wall.

Anticipation shifts into arousal, want.

Need.

He’s so close - not enough - pressed against you, his heat a sharp contrast to the cold of the durasteel at your back. A shiver runs through your entire body and he hums low in his throat, slips a hand under the hem of your nightshirt to slide up your back and rest between your shoulderblades, warmth a cushion against the chill.

Another tremor follows in the wake of his hand. Even though he’s touched your back like this countless times now, it still makes your head light, your lungs gasp for breath.

You thread your fingers through his hair and pull, silently asking, pleading, demanding.

He kisses you deep, pulls a whimper from your chest that he echoes with a groan.

More need more -

Teeth scrape over the hinge of your jaw and fingers dig into your thigh, haul it up to curl around his waist and your hips roll instinctively, searching for -

Crikking hells yes -

The hard length of his cloth-covered cock grinds over your cunt, pressing your damp underwear against your clit and sparks of pleasure rapid fire through your veins.

Not enough -

Your hands grab at his shoulders, haul him impossibly tighter against you as his tongue flicks along your pulse, hot and wet over where a whimper buzzes low, reverberating with his answering groan.

Something cracks and swells deep in your gut and a flood of need rushes through your core, shoves desperate words past your lips. “Need you inside me.”

His groan vibrates through your own chest. “Want to feel you, kar’ta, but I should get you ready -“

He chokes off as your hand slips into his underlayer, curls around his cock and squeezes.

For a brief moment your intent wavers, distracted - pfassk, he feels so good against your palm, hard length pulsing, velvet skin burning with arousal. A warm droplet slides over your knuckles and your tastebuds tingle with the memory of how it feels on your tongue, the sharp bite of his pleasure.

A wave of fresh slick dampens your underwear, so much that you can feel it on your hand through his underlayer and your focus resharpens, the need to feel him blazing over your skin.

You stroke along the length of his cock, your pussy throbbing at his subsequent groan, and your free hand finds one of his, pulls it to your hip, hooks his fingers over the waistband of your underwear and tugs.

A silent command, reinforced by your desperate verbal plea.

“Gedet’ye, Din.”

He doesn’t hesitate, grips the thin fabric and rips the seam with one sharp pull.

It bites into the flesh of your opposite hip but it’s only a flash of pain, almost instantly soothed by the brush of his hand down your side, pushing the remnants of your underwear down your thigh and to the floor.

Then he’s pulling his underlayer out of the way and cool air is flowing over your fingers as you stroke his cock, bitten-back moans catching in his throat to the rhythm of your hand, pausing for just a heartbeat when you guide the head of his cock to your bare cunt, tilt your hips to drag him through your folds to your entrance and -

Yes yes yes -

His cock pushes apart your inner walls, inch by inch, spreading you around the thick of him until you can’t breathe, the sudden stretch overwhelming and so good a rush of wet heat floods your core.

He grunts behind clenched teeth as he sinks another inch of his cock into your cunt. “So tight I can’t -“

“Don’t stop don’t please -“ Your voice cracks with a moan as your head falls back against the wall.

His hips roll, a sharp movement that feels involuntary, dragging his cock from your pussy with a wet sound that makes you dizzy with pleasure before shoving back so deep you cry out, lights bursting at the edge of your darkened vision.

Not enough -

Your fingers clench into the meat of his shoulders and your hips arch to take more of him.

A slew of Mandalorian words rushes hot over your collarbone. He growls low, thrusts again and finally -

Breathless groans mingle in the space between you as he buries deep, your slick folds swallowing the base of his cock greedily.

The ache throbs, momentarily satisfied, the need for connection slaked by the way your cunt pulses around his length. The thing between you loosens enough that you can breathe again, frantic need smoothing into calm, basking in the warm pleasure that spirals out from your core.

He stills, and a thick and heady silence falls around the two of you, his nose brushing alongside yours as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. “You’re too good at that.”

“At what?” You roll your hips as much as you can, moaning at the slight friction.

He presses his hips tight to yours, preventing you from repeating the motion, his voice slightly breathless. “At testing my restraint.”

That strange, giddy feeling is back, a subtle vibration behind your ribs that urges you to laugh mingling with the primal instinct to move making your head light.

You duck your head quick to nip at his neck, skin catching on your teeth. “Good. You have too much of it, sometimes.”

He clicks his tongue in admonishment. “I need all of it around you, or this is all we’d do.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” You squeeze around his cock - pfassk that feels good - and he shifts, grunting in surprise, but still doesn’t move.

Fine. Just have to play dirty.

Your lips find his ear, fingers curving over his shoulders to dig your nails into his skin. “I want this, all the time. Want you all the time, just like this, your cock filling me up so good.”

He shudders hard, and you can feel it, that exact restraint, running through his frame even as he rocks forward, unable to stop his body from seeking pleasure despite his ridiculous willpower.

Almost there.

You lean back, hands cupping his face gently as your lips pull his into the sweetest kiss you can manage with the urge to laugh and grind on his cock until you come warring in your chest. He wavers, practically melting against you, hand sliding along your thigh to grasp your waist with an almost-desperation.

Then you pull back just enough, let your words brush over his mouth.

“I think about you all the time, how perfect you feel like this, how deep you get - exactly where I need you. Like your cock was made for me.” Another tender press of your lips. “Like you were made for me.”

The moan that buzzes against your mouth fills your senses, and suddenly you’re swept up in your own game, a tiny sound slipping past your tight throat as he rests his forehead against yours, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

He turns his face to press a kiss to your palm. “You make me believe in fate, tionas.”

A thousand emotions sweep through you, leave you on the verge of gasping for air. That deep-seated connection flares to the surface, burns away any thought of mischievous games and playful teases.

His hands slide around the small of your back, arms winding tight, tilting your hips at angle as he gently rocks into you. The push of his cock along your inner walls floods your core with white-hot pleasure, your mouth falling open in a moan that he chases with a sweep of his tongue.

Again he slowly pulls back and again he gently pushes in, over and over as pleasure spirals up and up through your body, trembles through every muscle. Your legs shake with it, threaten to crumble under your weight, and you whimper with the strain.

His arms loosen for a moment, a hand grabs your thigh, hitches it higher around his waist. “Hold on to me, cyar’ika. I’ve got you.”

He thrusts in again and you cry out -

The soft cloth of his underlayer grinds over your clit as the head of his cock pushes against some spot inside you that blasts pleasure through your core.

Again -

Crikking hells -

Your hands fly to grasp his shoulders, senses reeling, entire body trembling.

His hips roll, a smooth glide away and a sharp snap -

Oh kriff -

His cock hits that spot again and wet heat floods your cunt, dampens his underlayer, ignites sparks as it presses to your clit again and -

Again -

So good so good -

Your orgasm grows bright, pulsing with each thrust of his cock along the slick walls of your pussy and another snap of his hips and it’s right there -

He grunts as another wave of slick seeps from your cunt, arms pulling tight to keep you in place when the first shudder of pleasure rolls through your body. “Yes, come for me, just like that -“

Bright wet heat -

Pleasure crashes through your senses and you frantically grasp at him as your legs give out. “Din -“

He thrusts in deep and pushes you tight to the wall, one hand gripping the back of your raised thigh to keep you up and at that angle.

A sob tears from your chest as his cock presses hard to that spot and your core clenches around him over and over with each wave of pleasure until finally -

The drop -

You’re slumping against him, fine tremors running through your frame, ribs aching with the need for air.

He sways just slightly, bracing your weight, a hand sliding up your back under your nightshirt, soothing, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “Breathe, kar’ta.”

Your fingers hurt - you uncurl them from where they’ve fisted in the cloth of his underlayer over his shoulders. A few deep breaths, the weight of his hand on your back a steady reminder.

Senses dulled by pleasure blink back online and you smooth the wrinkles you had made in his underlayer, pressing a kiss to the curve of his neck. “You’re too good at that.”

A vibration under your lips marks his silent laugh as he obviously picks up on your echo of his words earlier. “At what?”

You swallow thickly, mouth dry from trying to steady your breathing, voice cracking with spent pleasure. “Making me come so hard I can’t stand up anymore.”

His cock twitches inside you and a shiver runs down your thighs, tracked by his fingers still gripping you there. “Then let me take you to bed and lay you down. I’m not done with you yet.”

You both groan as he pulls out, your cunt clenching at the sudden emptiness. He gently guides you through the dark hold, hands never leaving you, holding firmly when you falter.

It’s only a handful of steps to your shared blankets but it’s enough to clear your thoughts of the post-bliss haze and reignite your craving for him.

Your feet barely brush the fabric of the blankets before you turn to face him, slide your hands down his chest to rest on his thighs as you drop to your knees.

He groans long and low as you lean in to press a kiss to the space just above your thumb. “I said I’m not done with you.”

“And I haven’t even started with you, yet.”

You nip at the rise of his hipbone through his underlayer then immediately press your tongue to the spot, and the hiss of pleasure from above you curls into your core, arousal swirling to life once again.

He cups your cheek with one hand, thumb brushing the corner of your lips. “Feeling you come on my cock wasn’t enough? That perfect pussy squeezing me so tight I couldn’t breathe - fuck -“

You turn to capture his thumb, suck it into your mouth, swirl your tongue over it then release with a pop. “No. I’m gonna make you come until you can’t stand up anymore.”

Then you reach up and grasp the base of his cock and lave your tongue along his length to pull the head into your mouth.

Pfassk yes -

His taste floods your senses, thick warmth of his cock deliciously heavy on your tongue.

The stuttered groan that chokes from his chest shoots right to your core and you squeeze your thighs against the pulse of want.

You sink forward, pushing his length along your tongue, moaning as it pulses and a hint of that bitter tang you’d wished for earlier finally coats your tongue.

His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head, trembling slightly as you slowly drag the flat of your tongue along the underside. “So good, so good to me -“

Your grip on his cock tightens, strokes up as you sink forward again, letting saliva pool in your mouth before pulling back.

He shudders hard at the twist of your hand along his slick length, whimpers when you purse your lips against the head, tip of your tongue dipping into the slit to lap up the moisture beading there. Groans when you pick up a steady rhythm with your hand, pushing saliva from your pursed lips to coat his cock and ease the friction of your grip.

Arousal builds steadily between your thighs, fed by every one of his sounds, every twitch of his cock, flex of his body as pleasure courses through him - pleasure you’re giving him.

Pfassk, it’s all too much and not enough.

Never enough.

You duck down to mouth along the underside of his cock, tongue the thick vein that throbs with each pass of your hand. His fingers dig into your scalp, groan degenerating into desperate pants that fill your thoughts completely.

Quickening the pace of your hand, you slide further down, nose along the base of his cock, swipe the flat of your tongue over the soft sac there.

His cock throbs in your grip and his hand clenches on the back of your head. “Fuck - tionas -“

You moan in response, opening your mouth wide to let the vibrations ghost over the delicate skin and trace the tip of your tongue over the gentle swell before pulling it into the wet heat of your mouth.

He chokes out a slew of unintelligible words and suddenly he’s grabbing your hand on his cock, squeezing to stop your movements, words shifting into something you understand. “Stop I want to come inside you please -“

Your pussy throbs at the desperation in his voice and you pull back, lean into the cup of his palm on the back of your head. “Yes, Din, come inside me. Fill me up with you.”

The flurry of movement is so disorienting you barely register the blankets at your back as he slots himself between your thighs and notches the head of his cock at your entrance, thrusts into your cunt with a single motion.

Oh pfassk -

You’re so wet, slick from your previous orgasm and the feel of him coming apart on your tongue and his cock sinks deep with no resistance. A rough growl reverberates through his chest, makes your pussy squeeze him tight, and he sits back, hauls your thighs around his hips and grabs your waist firmly.

There’s only a blink of a moment, a brief second when you register the sharp angle of your hips, resting on top of his thighs, bowing your back, and the hard press of the head of his cock against that spot deep inside that makes you fall apart so quickly.

Then he’s thrusting hard and your awareness shatters until all you feel is his large hands holding you in place and his cock driving deep enough to shove the air from your lungs.

Again again again -

The smack of skin and the squelch of slick as it floods your cunt matches the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat and the almost guttural groans punching through the air - his or yours, you can’t tell, everything is all too much and pleasure so white-hot it burns is coursing through your entire body and -

He shifts, thighs flexing underneath your ass, one hand sliding up under your shirt to cup a breast, grind his palm over your peaked nipple and the other diving down to swirl firm circles over your clit.

Pfassk -

You’re floating and falling and your hands are everywhere, grabbing at the blankets, his forearms, the wall behind your head, desperate for something to hold on to.

His hand leaves your breast, grasps one of yours tight, and you cling to it, hold to your chest.

His pace picks up and his cock is spearing into your core over and over and hitting that spot every time until something bursts and pleasure screams through your blood -

Everything is tight and wet and hot -

He cries out, pace faltering, slowing, fingers spasming on your skin, and your pleasure breaks just as the warmth of his fills your cunt.

A moment of calm, something soft and pure, thrumming along that connection between you.

Your grasp on his hand loosens, pressing his palm to your skin, over the rapid beat of your heart. Letting him feel it. Feel what you feel for him.

He sighs, a sound heavy with satiation, and slowly shifts away, pulling his softening cock from your pussy. A dip of disappointment curls in your stomach at the loss of him, until your hear the now-familiar rustle of fabric as he takes off his underlayer.

You sit up enough to tug your nightshirt over your head, cool air of the hold swirling over your bare breasts for just a moment before he’s with you again, broad chest and warm skin pressing tight to yours, and you sink back down into the blankets, a sigh of your own filtering through the silence as his weight settles over you.

His hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking over the curve as his lips find yours, kiss you softly. You breathe deep, curl your arms around his neck and keep him close.

The kiss grows, deepens, unhurried and thorough. You lose yourself in it, content to stay just like this for as long as you can.

Forever, if possible.

A thrill jumps along your heartbeat, pools in your chest.

Maybe it is.

Maybe you can have this, have him. Forever.

You just have to let yourself have it.

I love you, Din Djarin.

I love you, tionas.

Nudging your nose to his cheek, you break the kiss just enough to speak. “Din. I love you. Really.”

You’re still close enough to feel his smile against your lips. “I know. And I love you. Really.”

A teasing lilt seeps into his voice and you pull back further, imitating his own exasperated sigh perfectly. “Mir’sheb.”

He huffs his laugh and rolls onto his back, arms hooking around your waist to take you with him. “Of course that’s your favourite Mando’a word.”

You squirm into your usual position when you lay like this, one leg sprawled over his hips and a hand spread over his heartbeat, your nose tucked into the curve of his neck, revelling in the feel of his bare skin against yours for a moment. “Teach me more and I might find another.”

A pause, his fingertips tracing circles on the back of your hand. “How about ‘gar cuyir bid vercopa be ner kar’ta.’”

Your thoughts flicker, picking up on the last word. “You’ve called me that before. Kahrohta.”

He hums in agreement. “It means ‘heart.’ I’ve called you that in my head for a long time.” His fingers stop their pattern, gently grasp your hand to lift it to his lips and press a kiss to the centre of your palm. “‘Gar cuyir bid vercopa be ner kar’ta.’ You are the dream of my heart.”

Your breath catches in your throat, emotion swarming up your chest to sting behind your eyelids. “Pfassk. Is this how all Mando’a lessons start? I wasn’t emotionally prepared for kriffing poetry.”

His snort of laughter vibrates under your cheek. “Of course you would curse - twice - when told something like that.”

“I liked it.” You return your hand to his chest, push gently in protest. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

He presses your hand tight to his chest, halting your attempt to push him again, and tucks you in closer to his side. “I will say that and more, for as long as you’ll let me.”

You still, his words echoing your own thoughts moments before.

For as long as you’ll let me.

Rising up on your elbow, you look down at him in the dark. “How do you say ‘forever?’”

A hand glides up your back and down again, thumb tracing the curve of your spine. “Darasuum.”

Slowly, you lean down, press a kiss to his lips. “Din Djarin, I will let you darasuum.”

When he kisses you again you can feel the rhythm of those words in the skittering of the heartbeat under your palm and in the pulse of your own in your chest, threaded through with that something else, that intangible knot pulling you together.

***** Mando’a translations

tionas - question

cyar’ika - sweetheart

gedet’ye - please

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