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ashes-writing · 2 years

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m o u t h | stranger things ; s.harrington

|| taglist,babes + req rules + send ?s + masterlist + kinktober masterlist ||

** graphics made by me with help from google images /pinterest. the list I'm using for this provided by @the-purity-pen, please do go check out their writing and a huge thanks to them for allowing the prompts to be used. **

𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 ; 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔

Summary ;

--- steve decides to prove he can talk dirty but how far will it go?

Pairing ;

Steve Harrington x fem!reader.

--- no physical description given beyond having female parts.

Warnings ;

--- minors, abso-fuckin-lutely not. In addition to the prior, body fluids, oral sex / the sixty nine position, dirty talk, sliiightest hint of dominant!Steve, biting and marking.

Taglist ;

--- the people listed below are the only ones I have on my stranger things taglist. If you'd like to be added, click the little link up top.

@allelitesmut

@aries-arcade

@aurumbelis

@chieflawyerpastatoad

@cole22ann

@ebonybloom

@heyaitsklaudia

@hoeshii

@hotgirlshareaccounts

@icequeen1371

@krys-orion

@letsbedragonstogether

@liberhoe

@m-rae23

@musichealsscars

@oflavenderandevie

@scoobiessnacks

@secretsicanthideanymore

@sparkletash

@suits-and-smirks

@thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles

@thechoiceslookgrimm

@untitledarea

@untoldshortsofthefandoms

The door bangs shut behind you and you bend down, slipping a finger into the back of your high heel to pull it off your foot. Then you do the same with the other foot. Flexing your toes against hardwood flooring, you toss your keys onto the table by the door.

The television is going and Steve is sitting in front of it, the only light in the room coming off the lit screen.

“Honey, I’m home.” you laugh as you call out to him, making your way into the living room. When you flop down on the sofa near him, he jolts awake, swearing under his breath. A brow raised as soon as he realizes that you’re home early from yet another date.

“It’s only 9. What happened to “Don’t wait up for me, hm?”” Steve Harrington questions. Deep down, as guilty as he feels about it, a huge part of him is happy, thrilled even, that your dates keep turning into disasters.

And he’s dreading the day you float through the apartment door with that dreamy look in your eyes to tell him you’re in love.

You’re pouting and you grumble. “It was a disaster from the time the waitress gave us our menus to the time he talked me into going up to his apartment for drinks…” you trail off and sigh. It’s driving you insane, pretending to be interested in all these other guys when the one you really want is sitting right beside you on the sofa.

Steve tenses just slightly when you mention that you went up to your date’s apartment for drinks. “Oh?” he asks, giving you a chance to rant.

And you do, you tell him every single reason the date was a disaster and you don’t spare any details. Steve hates it, for the most part, but he listens. Laughing and groaning where needed, staring at pillowy red lips as you’re talking and you’re totally oblivious.

“He tried to talk dirty to me, y’know? And he’s soooo bad at it. He wouldn’t take the hint so I made up an excuse and I left. I mean…. He kept calling sex anything but and he kept being pushy about it, I got annoyed.”

“What’d he say?” Steve asks, not even sure why he wants to know.

“Oh no, no. It was dumb, okay? I’d rather forget.” you’re shaking your head and laughing softly. You’ve sprawled out on the couch now, the crown of your hair is nestled up against the side of one of his thick thighs. Steve tenses a little because no matter how often you cozy up to him like this when it’s just the two of you hanging out, he still gets thrown into an uproar.

He still finds himself imagining what it’d be like to pull you into his lap and kiss you until you can’t breathe or think straight. And the nights he’s imagined things going further than friendship between the two of you, it’s starting to really get to him.

“Tell me something he said. I have to hear this.”

“Steve, noooo.” you’re laughing because he’s trying to tickle you but the way his hands feel on your body is only making you wetter with each second that passes. “Okay, fine. First of all, he asked me if I wanted to let him make me a milkshake… and me, being me… I thought he was talking about an actual milkshake.” you palm your face and pull yourself to a sitting position, cringing as you replay it in your head. “He kept trying to grab me and ugh.. When he kissed me, I swear to God it was like he was trying to vacuum my mouth.”

Steve is snickering at first. And then he’s clutching his sides, practically howling with laughter. You’re pouting, your arms folded as you watch him. “Please… Like you can do better, king of the dad jokes.”

Steve’s laughter dies and he bites his lip, staring at your mouth for a second or two. Then he leans in and mutters quietly, “You really think I can’t talk dirty to you? Is that what I’m hearing right now?”

“Well..” you’re flustered. Not only is he licking his lips again but there’s this hazy gleam in his big brown eyes and he’s pulled your legs into his lap.. This wouldn’t be a big deal, it wouldn’t be the first time but.. It is the first time he’s let one of his hands settle on your bare thigh.

“Do you know how hard it is to control myself when I’m around you?” Steve questions, dragging the tip of his finger over your soft skin. His hand creeps up higher and he gives your thigh a squeeze and all this without breaking eye contact a single time. He transitioned from goofy playful Steve, your best friend and the man you secretly love, to calm. A lustful gleam in his eyes and his words coming out lower. Deeper.

You barely keep yourself from whimpering. “S-Steve?” you say his name, a confused look in your eyes. He chuckles. Starts to lean in closer but he pulls you onto his lap completely instead. You pout because you miss the roughness and warmth of his hand against your skin, but then he’s got you settled in his lap and you’re pressed right against his crotch and you gulp when you feel his cock twitch.

“Shh.. You’re the one who thinks I can’t talk dirty.” Steve’s tongue drags slow across the outline of his kissable lips. Your gaze hones in on this and you’re mesmerized. Dazed. Imagining for the millionth time since you met him what it might be like to kiss him.

“It’s your fault I’m so hard right now. Do you feel what you’re doing t’ me, baby?” he shifts around and the movement causes you to rub right against him. The whine comes out before you can stop it. You’re dripping right now. If he had one tenth of a clue what his teasing was doing to you right now.

But he doesn’t.

Because he’s just kidding, he has to be. He’s just being an ass and proving your assumption -that he can’t talk dirty, wrong.

Oh, is he ever.

His hand disappears between your bodies and you bite down on your lip as one of his fingers drags a line up your inner thigh. The dress you wore out tonight is short and it’s almost indecently so. It’s tight and low cut and it fits you like a second skin and when you bought it, Steve hated the idea of watching you walk out the door wearing it for everybody else.

He bites back a groan and bucks upward into you, his head falling back against the headrest. “Fuck.” he practically growls out the word. The hand that’s not dragging up and down your bare thigh beneath the short hem of the dress is moving up and down your side, stopping to squeeze your hip and rock you over the way he’s straining at the sweats he’s wearing just so you feel how much harder he’s gotten in the space of a few seconds.

Your breath hangs in your throat and you can’t resist, you’re rocking yourself over the thick bulge when it happens again. One of your hands settles on his broad and bare shoulder and your nails dance and drag over his skin and he growls. Leaning in closer, his mouth so close to yours that your lips touch with each word he says next. “I wanna touch you. Taste you. Feel you.”

“Fuck.” the word hangs in the air when you whimper it out. You’re back to rocking yourself back and forth over the way he’s strained so hard against his sweats. You keep trying to tell yourself this is just him, proving you wrong, proving to you that he can talk dirty, but then you lock eyes with him and the lust blacking out his pupils has you second-guessing everything you think you know. Hope growing.

“Steve..” you whine his name when he rocks himself up and into your throbbing cunt two times in a row and his fingers dig against black fabric as he squeezes your hip. His other hand creeps just a little higher, finger grazing against soaked black lace.

“Fuck, baby. Fuck.” he growls out the words, taking three very deep breaths as he tries to pull himself together one last time and fails. The hand up your dress settles over your wet,throbbing sex and he starts to rub you outside your panties. You rock yourself against the movement of his hands, each rock making you drag right over his cock.

By now, his intention to prove you wrong, to show you he can talk dirty, that’s fallen by the wayside and all he wants is to bury himself inside you. “Baby, I…” he starts to say something but then he grabs hold of the column of your neck with his free hand and pulls your mouth against his mouth. Your mouth falls open with little to no hesitation, a whimper swallowed by a frantic and oh so needy kiss, his tongue dominating your own, dragging over it. Massaging. The hand up your dress is moving faster to match the pace of your hips thrusting against it and now he’s bucking himself into you from below too.

The kiss breaks and you pull away to breathe. He’s still massaging your cunt and you’re getting wetter and wetter by the second. “I wanna fuck you so bad right now, fuck.” he half growls against your neck after pushing some of your hair out of the way so his mouth can latch onto your skin. You can feel the bruise forming already and you’re rocking yourself against the thick bulge in his sweats harder, pressing down into it more. Faster, urgent and needy whines falling from your lips and shattering the heavy tension in the air.

“Fuck me, Steve. P-please, baby. I need it, I-I… need you.” you moan out the words and Steve raises up off the sofa, carrying you down the hallway, into his bedroom.

Your back meets the closed door with a soft thud and his hands are all over you, so is his mouth. But he’s still at it, telling you every dirty little thing he wants to do to you. “I can’t wait to slide my cock inside you, princess.” his teeth latch onto the front of your throat as he says it, his voice dropping lower to add, “Mm.. fucking love the sounds you’re making, baby.” when you whimper and whine because his hand is back up your dress, the heel of it grinding right into your cunt makes the ache so much worse. You’re rubbing against him, one hand in his hair, tugging at it, begging for it against the shell of his ear.

In the back of your mind you do briefly entertain the thought that what you want is maybe not the best idea, but you want him so much, you’re so in love with him that the thought is shoved out as soon as it occurs.

“Gonna..” he bites into your neck and growls out quietly as he steps into his bedroom and tosses you onto the bed gently, following your body down and settling in on top of you, “Gonna ruin you for other men, baby… Do you want that?”

“P-please.” you’re whimpering helplessly as he’s pushing your legs apart wider with his body settled in between them, one of those big hands pushing up the bottom of your dress so that it’s up to your hips and when he gets his first glimpse of the soaked black fabric barely covering your cunt, he groans, staring at how wet you are in a trance. “Fuck.” he mumbles, licking his lips slowly, “Fuck, princess… You’re soaked.” he muses, glancing up at you, “Did I do this? Tell me, baby.” the demand is groaned out against your mouth as he crashes his mouth against yours all over again.

“Y-yes, ahhh fuck.” you whine and rock yourself up against the way his fingers drag right up your center, moaning his name, “Steve…Oh.. Mmm..” your eyes flutter open and closed. Thick fingers push soaked fabric to the side and work you open, burying up to the knuckles and neither one of you seems to want to stop, he does warn against your ear, “If you want me to stop…”

“No. Don’t you, ah..” your back arches as his fingers pump in and out of your wet cunt, the slosh and squelch as it happens making him even harder and forcing up a growl from deep within, you whine a little louder, “Don’t stop don’tstopdon’tstop, please..” your begging making the last thread of restraint Steve Harrington possesses currently shatter.

Your fingers catch in the waistband of his sweats and you tug, whining in need. He’s working the dress up off your body and you’ve never been more thankful in your entire life that it’s slip on and fairly easy to get off. The dress falls to the floor and you’re still tugging at his sweats as his fingers continue to fuck in and out of you and now, he’s added a third one so you feel stretched and the burn of it feels so good.

“Steve,” you beg, “ ‘S not fair.”

“It’s not my fault you’re wearing less.” he answers in a quiet whisper as he leaves a circlet of love bites around your neck, marking you so well that you won’t be able to hide them when he’s done. And he has to mark you, he wants something other than the memories burned into his brain that tonight actually happened, just in case.

He’s tearing off your panties now. Tossing them out onto the bedroom floor with the dress. Your legs squeeze against his sides and he groans as he makes his way down your body, settling between your thighs to bury his mouth in your pussy. You tug at his hair and he growls quietly, biting your inner thigh, sucking a mark into your skin as he kisses a trail upwards. As his tongue circles your clit and his mouth latches on, you rock your hips upward. His arms hook beneath your thighs and you’re pouting a little at the absence of his fingers, but then his tongue is buried deep in your pussy and he’s lapping up your juices, licking you clean. And using one of his hands to hold your hips against the bed so you have limited movement.

You tug at his hair, you can’t help yourself. “Harder. Pull harder, princess.” he half growls against your skin. When you pull harder like he wants, his lips latch onto your clit and you’re moaning his name, begging, “Steve, baby, c’mon… I..” you drag your nails down his back as he tilts your hips just the slightest and his fingers bury inside your cunt with his tongue and he’s so deep inside of you now that you can feel the tips of his fingers brush against spongy softness of your spot, “I wanna suck your cock…” you’re desperate, you need to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel and maybe a part of you thinks that if you do, maybe things will click and he’ll know how much you want him and love him without the scary price of having to say it aloud.

He chuckles against your pelvic mound, stopping just to raise his head and gaze up at you. There’s a fucked out gleam in your eyes, your whole body is tensed so tight that he knows you’re dangerously close. But hearing you say you want to suck him off is so fucking hot.

“I..fuck..” he growls, biting at your pelvic mound, sucking a mark against bare skin and making you tense up just a little more as you tug at his hair and try yet again to move your hips a little better, “I don’t wanna stop..” he admits quietly. “Wanna make you cum all over my tongue, baby. I wanna taste you.”

The idea comes to both of you at once. Steve stops and starts to work his way back up your body, pulling you on top of him once he’s settled, crashing his lips against yours as he mumbles into the kiss, “Turn around.”

You turn so that you’re facing away from him and he grabs hold of your hips, pulling you up to his face until you can feel his mouth latch against your throbbing cunt as his tongue disappears inside of you again, joined by three of his fingers on one hand as the other hand grips your hip to keep you up. You tug at his sweats and he raises his hips, letting you pull down his sweats and the second his cock springs free, throbbing and thick as it grazes against your waiting mouth, he groans and his hand digs into your hip. You flatten your tongue over the tip of his cock as you curl your fingers around his length and pump it up and down. He groans, his tongue and fingers stammering inside of you a few seconds as he adjusts to how fucking good your mouth feels wrapped around his cock when you take him into it, pumping your hands up and down.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.. Princess, fuck.” he groans, the sound sending pleasurable vibrations racing through your core and making your stomach coil even tighter as your thighs clench just so you don’t cum yet. “Princess, your mouth feels so good wrapped around my cock, fuck.” he groans out when you take him deeper in your throat, coming back up his length with a soft pop as suction breaks for a second or two. And then you’re deep throating him again, your nose pushed against coarse and short hairs, breathing in the scent of his musk. He’s pulling you back against his mouth, fucking you with his tongue and fingers, groaning and growling as you get wetter, the taste of you filling his mouth.

“C’mon, baby, cum on my tongue..” he’s thrusting his hips upward, fucking into your mouth clumsily as he tries to coax you into an orgasm. “You taste so fucking good, baby.. Want more.” he’s begging and it takes so little of his begging to send your orgasm smashing into you, your hips sputtering and your mouth coming off of his cock so you can come down from the high. Your nails have dug into his thighs slightly. Steve’s slurping and the slosh of your wetness has you whining, lowering your head to take him into your mouth all over again, deeper this time.

“Fuck.” Steve pants, fucking up into your mouth with shaky thrusts, “So close baby, so close.”

“Steve, p-please.” you moan around his cock, “Let go, baby..”

His cock throbs and his hands dig into your hips as he empties in your mouth. You swallow, the salty taste making you moan softly. You’re shaking by now and you turn around to face him, dragging the back of your hand across your mouth.

His hand tangles in your hair and he pulls your mouth down against his, his tongue running along yours as the taste of him and you combine.

“Still think I can’t talk dirty to you?” he questions as he pulls you flat on top of him and wraps his arms around you to hold you tight…

“I was wrong. I was so, so, so wrong.” you mumble, staring at him. Lost in his eyes. Still coming down from the high and trying to wrap your head around what's just happened...

He chuckles at your answer as his hands move up and down your bare back and you shiver, burrowing yourself down into him because his touch feels so good.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x fem!reader #<- minors absofuckinlutely not. this is a general warning for all my adult content.#<- female reader ; vague description (female parts)#-> please read all warnings above before proceeding #tppkinktober2022 #kinktober22 #kinktober2022 #kinktober 2022

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likeastarstar · 3 years

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A Mutual Agreement.

Summary: You want to watch your boyfriend, Hoseok, wank off.

(A/N: this is soooo uh...explicit. sorry? Feedback is always welcome, don't judge me, I love hoba.)

masterlist.

"Do you still jack off?"

Hoseok paused, the cup in his hand frozen mid-air, a blank stare on his face, "Excuse me?"

You laughed, leaning towards your boyfriend, "I mean we've been living together for 3 months, I've never seen you masturbate."

He raised his eyebrows and set his coffee down slowly, sending you an incredulous look. "That's because now I use your pussy instead of my hand."

You grinned at him, expecting as much. You had a very high sex drive, Hoseok matching your energy both in spirit and adventure. There was little you hadn't tried, but watching your boyfriend get off to completion wasn't on the list.

"I want to watch you do it though," You said quietly, dragging your eyes down to his lips, watching his tongue slip out to lick his lips apprehensively.

"I don't see how that would benefit you," He frowned, biting down on his bottom lip, "Why wouldn't we just have sex?"

"Because I want to focus on you completely," You explained, scooting towards him on the couch until you were practically on top of him, "Please baby?"

He inhaled shakily, leaning back into the couch further, "Only if I can watch you too- touching yourself, I mean. I want to watch too," He mumbled.

"Sure," You said easily, "Sounds fair."

He had agreed but the actual opportunity didn't present itself for awhile, the two of you always got too horny for each other to remember your deal before you were already fucking. So when Hoseok marched into the living room one afternoon and announced today was the day- you were more than down.

"I'm about to rub one out," Hoseok declared with a close mouthed smile. holding out his arms like he deserved a medal for that statement. "Now's your chance to watch if you were serious."

You squealed in excitement and jumped up, following him to the bedroom you shared, doing a little dance on your way in.

"You're so weird," He chuckled, watching you perch at the edge of the bed eagerly. He stood in front of you awkwardly, staring down at his dick and then back at you. "I don't know why I feel so shy right now."

You grinned at him, trying not to laugh. This entire situation was a little awkward, you had to admit. You tucked your feet under you and motioned for him to sit next to you on the bed, watching him move entirely too slowly. He was acting like you were a cat about to pounce on him, his eyes wide and apprehensive. You felt your heart warm with fondness, leaning towards Hoseok and kissing right under his ear. He shivered under you, already breathing heavier.

"What made you want to touch yourself?" You asked, keeping your eyes on his face to track any source of discomfort. If he didn't want this, you'd stop immediately. It wasn't worth making your boyfriend uncomfortable.

He kept his eyes staring ahead, avoiding looking at you altogether, "I- uh, well I was going through my camera roll and found a picture of you from Spain."

"The one where you have me bent over the balcony railing without any underwear and my skirt flipped up?" You smirked, kissing his neck again, nipping his skin a little this time.

"That would be the one, yes," He mumbled, laughing at his own awkwardness. "I revisit that moment in my dreams often- Fuck, you were so loud that night, we should've made a sex tape."

"That's a terrible idea," You pointed out, dragging a light touch down his neck and stopping at his carotid, pressing down and tracking his pulse for a moment. It was still fast- he was nervous.

"Relax," You whispered, "Just show me what you'd do if I weren't here."

He nodded, leaning back slightly, and unzipping the fly of his jeans. He slid his hand in, palming himself through his boxers. Hoseok lifted his hips slightly

and you shot a hand out to help push his pants down, stopping halfway down his thighs. "I thought you weren't touching?" He asked, looking at you sideways.

"Right," You smiled sheepishly, "Sorry."

Hoseok grinned and pushed your hand away, pulling his boxer briefs off himself. You couldn't help but smile, staring straight at his semi-hard dick. You were very fond of it, fighting against yourself to look but not touch. His dick was on the longer side, thin like him with a lean to it. There was a delicateness to him that you loved, cherishing every part of him. You felt saliva pool in your mouth as he began to touch himself, mumbling about getting lube.

You scrambled to locate some, not wanting him to move an inch. There was bottle in the second drawer of his bedside table, half empty because you two were obsessed with each other- sue a girl for liking her boyfriend. You tossed it to him and he caught it with ease, squeezing out a good amount on his fingers and wrapping them around his cock.

"That was a lot," You chided, watching the way his finger slid over the veins of his dick.

"You know I like it wet," He bit back instantly.

If you were having a hard time not smiling before it was impossible not to now, watching at his hand move up and down on his cock like it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, which it was.

"You're so fucking sexy," You mumbled, half to yourself but you were glad you said it when Hoseok let out a heavy sigh nearing a moan, tightening his grasp on himself. His cock reacts, how fully hard and a bead of precum collecting at the tip. You wanted to lean over and lick it off but the satisfaction of watching him swirl his thumb over the head of his cock instead was enough to remind you why you were doing this in the first place.

Hoseok stroked his cock, clenching his jaw to contain whatever noise he was about to make. You pouted, wanting to watch him completely unravel.

"I wanna hear you," You whined, slapping his thigh lightly.

Hoseok laughed, speeding up his upward stroke and adding a slight twist to his wrist at the head, "Yes ma'am."

You watched the way the thick veins on his cock disappeared between his fingers, skin flushed with stimulation. He hadn't touched his balls once- interesting, that was usually a large part of what you spent time on when you went down on him. Hoseok angled his hips up and suddenly stilled his hand, fucking up into his own fist at an impressive speed. You inhaled sharply, leaning towards him a little more.

At this point, Hoseok was letting out quiet little grunts that he often did before he came, the telltale signs of an impending orgasm rapidly approaching.

"Baby, look at me," He ordered, causing you to snap your eyes up to his face.

He looked gone, eyebrows furrowed together and his eyes heavy with lust, mouth hanging open slightly. You smiled at him, appreciating the low moan he let out when your eyes met his. Fuck, you loved him. He leaned back slightly, supporting the weight of his upper body with one hand behind him to allow his hips to lift off the bed even more, snapping into his own grasp roughly.

"Tell me what you're thinking about," You demanded, hypnotized by the almost desperate look on his face.

"You," He breathed out, "I'm thinking about you and that night in Spain- shit, you fucking drive me insane. I'm gonna cum."

You look back towards his dick just before he came, watching white lines shoot across his abs at first and then slowed down, dripping down the side of his fist that he continued to fuck into slowly now, the space between his fingers smaller as if he was milking his own orgasm. You sat on the heel of your foot, trying to relieve tension in your body as Hoseok fell back onto the bed, chest heaving.

"That was good," He sighed, out of breath.

"You're telling me," You agreed, picking up his hand and licking the cum off of it as he watched with peaked interest.

"Babe, I just finished," He pointed out, already knowing what you were about to do. "You're gonna have to give me a second to recover."

"I'm just cleaning up," You said defensively, lowering your lips to his cum covered abs.

It was the polite thing to do.

He laughed softly and buried his other hand in your hair, stroking the top of your head lightly, "Things will be different when the roles are reversed."

You hummed in response, looking up at him with curiosity. His eyes flickered down to yours and he smirked slightly, pulling one arm behind his head and sighing contently.

"I wanna watch you, sure," He explained. "But I also kind of want to tell you what to do."

TO BE CONTINUED...PART TWO

#bts smut #jung hoseok smut #jung hoseok fic #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #bts fic #hoseok x y/n #hoseok x oc #j hope x reader #j hope fanfic #j hope x you #j hope smut #j hope imagine #hoseok imagine #hoseok one shot

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rizubaby · 3 years

Text

You're My Toy | Kokichi Ouma.

genre ; nsfw oneshot.

request ; Kokichi Ouma with a sweet and submissive s/o whom he just wants to break.

summary ; you've been studying all day, trying to prepare for a big test. Kokichi is not a fan of someone or something taking your attention away from him, so he decides to punish you for it.

tags ; fem!reader, boyfriend experience, rough sex, degradation, corruption and mindbreak, cum play, usage of sex toys, vulgar language.

wc ; 1,7k.

note ; this was such a blast to write! I was on a roll while writing this so I managed to finish it quicker than I initially thought. I hope you like it! ♡

This is an 18+ post. Minors dni.

It's almost 11 pm. You've been behind your desk all day, studying for a big test you have coming up in a couple days. Even though everyone around you has no doubt you'll ace the test, you can't help but feel like you need to study so much your brain'll start to hurt. You lower your head onto the desk, letting out a tired sigh.

A moment passes and suddenly, you hear your boyfriend Kokichi enter your study. You don't even bother to look up since you're so exhausted. He's probably here just to annoy you again or to try and keep you from your work.

"S/o."

Just as you slowly lift your head from your desk, you notice Kokichi is looking rather serious. He has his hands balled into fists, seemingly frustrated about something. "K-kokichi? what's wrong?" you ask, not expecting him to look at you the way that he did. Did something happen? Was he mad at you?

Without warning, he steps towards you and turns your desk chair around, now facing him directly. He brings his face closer to yours and aggressively presses his lips against yours. You're surprised, but lean into the passionate kiss nonetheless. You feel your cheeks burn up a bit, one of his hands on your thigh as the other suddenly pulls on your hair. Your head is yanked back a bit, breaking up the kiss instantly. He looks mad.

"You... You've been neglecting me all. day. It's driving me insane, you know that?" he whispers into your ear, biting at your neck with a slightly aggressive undertone. You flinch, not expecting him to behave like this. You fumble with your words, not knowing exactly how to properly respond to him while he's doing all these things to you.

Kokichi suddenly pulls away, leaving you blushing bright red and shaken up in your chair. He gives you one last glance before turning around and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

Not able to fully comprehend what just happened, you let your face fall into the palms of your hands. What was that about?

Concerned about having hurt Kokichi's feelings, you stand up from your chair and decide to pull yourself together and head towards the bedroom. You slowly make your way down the hall and open the door to you guys' bedroom. He's...not there?

"K...Kokichi? where are yo--" you're suddenly cut off by the sound of the bedroom door closing behind you, him standing right behind you. Right as you're turning around to look at him, he grabs you by the collar of your blouse and harshly pulls you towards him. A smirk appears on his face, yet you're not sure what it means.

You never know what that look means.

"Get on the bed. Now." he orders, his devilish smirk making you worry just a little bit. Doing as he says, you slowly walk backwards towards the bed until you feel the edge bump against your legs, not breaking the eye contact. You slowly sit down onto the edge of the bed, your cheeks burning up again.

"Like I said, you've been ignoring me all day and neglecting your duties as my girlfriend. What are you going to do to make it up to me, hm?" he walks towards you, lifting your chin up as he takes a good look at your flustered face. You're always so sweet and innocent, at times like this it makes him want to ruin and corrupt you even more.

"U-um... I can-" you mumble, not sure what you were even going to answer. "What was that? I can't hear you." he remarked, raising his eyebrow sadistically.

"I-I... I can be your toy?" you stutter, slightly embarrassed by what you had just said. He seemed to like it though, since his mischievous grin only seemed to grow larger.

"That's right. You're my toy."

Kokichi suddenly pushes you back onto the bed, aggressively spreading your legs apart. It all happened so fast, you didn't have time to fully wrap your head around what was happening. As you look down, you see Kokichi's face from between your legs, his purple eyes gazing right at you. He pulls your laced panties to the side and snickers devilishly. "Look at this, you're already so wet from that! You're so dirty s/o, I'm so ashamed to call you my girlfriend..." he spoke in a degrading tone, reaching inside the pocket of his jacket as he pulled out what looked like a pink vibrator.

He wasted no time, turning the toy on and holding it against your sensitive clit. You immediately arched your back in response to the sudden and intense feeling you got from it, gripping the sheets tightly. You hear Kokichi giggle from underneath you, clearly enjoying your reaction. "This is nothing. Let's see how much you can really take," he says before forcefully pushing the vibrator inside your pussy. You let out a surprised and pained moan, much to Kokichi's liking.

Shaking profusely from the intense pleasure, you feel your eyes tearing up, your grip on the bedsheets becoming so tight you feel like you're going to tear a hole in them with your nails. From your half closed blurry eyes, you see Kokichi stand up from underneath you, unbuckling his belt. "Get up."

You look at him with teary eyes, still trembling from the toy vibrating inside your hole. "I said: Get. Up." His eyes feeling like they're piercing right through you, you slowly get up, your face bright red as beads of sweat form on your forehead. Kokichi grins at your lewd expression, whipping his dick out from his pants. "Now suck me off, you dirty slut."

Blushing heavily, you get onto all fours and move to the edge of the bed where Kokichi is standing, bringing your face closer to his shaft. It's perfect in size, twitching slightly as you wrap your hand around it. You prepare yourself to take his shaft inside your mouth as you suddenly feel Kokichi's hand push your head down onto his length. You choke in surprise, but quickly adjust to the new feeling as you bob your head up and down his shaft.

"Wow s/o, you're soooo naughty... Listen to those dirty sounds you're making! You're so disgusting." He remarks, snickering maliciously as he looks at you taking his entire length inside your mouth. "Let's really make you my dirty little bitch, shall we?" he says as he grabs a small remote from his back pocket. He holds it up proudly and presses a small button on the tiny device.

You immediately feel the vibrator that's still inside your hole start to vibrate more intensely. You stop for a second, moaning onto his cock as you feel your legs shake uncontrollably in response. You hear Kokichi laugh in amusement, pushing your head even further onto his shaft. You sputter, finally feeling your orgasm wash over you as you feel the tip of his shaft touch the back of your throat. Your eyes roll back into your skull, feeling Kokichi's hot cum shoot into the back of your throat simultaneously. You let out a weak moan, still not completely done riding out your climax.

Kokichi slowly pulls his dick out of your mouth, some drops of cum rolling down your chin as you take a moment to catch your breath. Your eyes are still blurry and your face feels burning hot, bringing your hand up to your face as you catch the remaining droplets of cum with your finger. Kokichi looks at you with a faint blush now apparent on his cheeks. You let your fingers run against the tip of his dick once more, gathering the last bits of his cum and bringing it to your mouth.

"Look at you, such a dirty cum slut... Who's my little cum princess, hm?" he asks degradingly. "I-I am," you reply, now feeling like any type of dignity and self-respect you had left has completely evaporated. "That's right, nyehehe..."

Having had enough of your mouth, Kokichi orders you to turn around once more, pulling the vibrator out of your soaking pussy. You gasp softly at the sudden feeling of emptiness, looking over your shoulder to meet your eyes with his. "K-Kokichi, please... I-I want--" you mumble, suddenly feeling his cold fingers stroke against your entrace. You shiver, letting out a surprised moan.

"Let's finish you off, hehehe..." Kokichi giggles, positioning the tip of his dick in between your folds, pushing into you painfully slow. Now having his entire length inside you, he doesn't move an inch. You turn around and look at him, his devilish grin staring back at you. You feel like you're going insane, wanting to move your hips against him to have at least some type of friction. He stops you though, not allowing you to move.

"Ah, ah ah... not yet. I want to hear you beg for me, you little slut." Kokichi says, his expression turning stoic. Feeling like you're losing your grip on reality, desperate begs and moans flow out of your mouth, begging for him to move and to fuck you senseless. Kokichi laughs. "I never expected you to say such dirty words s/o, I will have to punish you for that."

You immediately feel him start to move, picking up the pace rather quickly as he thrusts into you with full force. He grips your sides tightly with one hand, the other slapping your ass aggressively. Loud moans spill out of you, thick tears rolling down your cheeks. He grabs your wrists, keeping them placed on your back as your face buries itself into the mattress. You didn't imagine Kokichi to be this rough and degrading, but you were slipping into a state of pure bliss, not caring about anything anymore. The only thing you could think about was Kokichi ramming into you, your tongue rolling out of your mouth from the intense pleasure.

You hear soft grunts and giggles coming from behind you, indicating that Kokichi was getting close to his climax once again. His pace speeding up even more makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, letting out a loud scream as you feel his hot load fill you up again.

Trembling uncontrollably, you feel yourself cumming as well, feeling the mix of your juices trickle down your legs. Kokichi snickers, giving you one last spank before pulling out of you.

He takes a step back and admires the pretty sight of your demolished hole trembling before him, running his finger along your hole and bringing his cum soaked finger to his mouth. He licks it off, a satisfied grin forming on his face.

"That'll teach you, my little sex freak."

#danganronpa #danganronpa smut #kokichi ouma #kokichi x reader #drv3 #danganroses requests

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cosmicgoddesswrites · 3 years

Text

The Nanny - Chapter 2

Single Dad!Kuroo x Nanny!Reader

Summary: Kuroo Tetsuro is about at his wits end; there's only so much a man can take with work piling up, his divorce getting messier by the minute, and his 6-year-old daughter raising hell at home. Hiring a nanny sounds like a band-aid solution, but who knows, maybe this will work out?

Word Count: 1738

Warnings: Female!Reader, Some cursing, mentions of v!olence, implied panic attack

Prev. Masterlist. Next.

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Pulling up to the house the next morning was just as nerve-racking, if not more so, than it was the day before. (Y/n) was excited to meet Emiko, but couldn’t help the anxiety bubbling in the pit of her stomach.

What if Emiko didn’t like her? Kuroo said if she did well then she would get to stay on as her nanny. Did that mean if she did a shit job that he would fire her?

(Y/n) pushed her worries to the back of her mind as she approached the front door, gripping the spare key Kuroo had given her so hard she thought it might bend. With a deep breath she unlocked the front door and made her way inside.

Her footsteps practically echoed in the spacious house. One would think she was there completely alone.

Making her way to the kitchen, (Y/n) set down her messenger bag in one of the island chairs. Should she start cooking? Should she wait for Kuroo to greet her? Would he even greet her? Did she have to wait until she knew Emiko was up?

Her inner monologue was interrupted by a loud crash followed by a shrill scream that could have easily been mistaken for an emergency siren.

Instinct had (Y/n) rushing to the source of the noise and almost bumping into a frantic and half naked, very wet Kuroo.

“O-oh my god-”

“Oh, hi. Uh, I was showering, should we-?” Kuroo interrupted (Y/n), pointing to the door they were both standing in front of. (Y/n) prayed he didn’t notice her staring.

“Yes, yes we should-” she mumbled, moving to let him open the door.

Kuroo swung open the door, rushing to his daughter’s bedside and checking her for injuries. The father sighed in relief when he found none, only for his smile of relief to drop when he saw a very expensive looking night-light had been thrown on the floor.

“You scared me half to death,” he huffed, picking up the night-light, “did you throw this? You know daddy paid a lot for that.”

The little girl’s attention had shifted from her dad to the stranger in the room, her intense, amber eyes almost sizing the woman up. “Who’s that?”

Kuroo frowned at the lack of response from his daughter. “That’s (Y/n), she’s going to be your nanny, okay?” he explained, inspecting the light for any damage.

(Y/n) smiled and opened her mouth to speak only for the 6-year-old to cut her off.

“I don’t like her.”

Ouch.

Kuroo choked on his saliva and quickly turned to face his daughter, “Emiko that isn’t nice, you just met her. Can you give her a chance?”

Emiko stayed dead silent, continuing to stare (Y/n) down.

(Y/n) tried her best to play off the insanely awkward encounter, kneeling down to meet Emiko’s eye-line. “That’s okay, buuut do you like pancakes?”

The girl’s eyes lit up for a moment, she was obviously trying to mask any reaction to the mention of food, but her stomach betrayed her as it rumbled loudly.

“Well I like pancakes too, I make them nice and thick and fluffy with lots of syrup. How about I go make you and your dad some right now?” (Y/n) offered Emiko a bright smile as the little girl glanced over at her father.

“I know that sounds good to me!” Kuroo said, “How about we get dressed for the day while (Y/n) starts cooking?”

Kuroo didn’t even wait for a reply, he just stood straight and began getting Emiko’s clothes ready for the day. (Y/n) gave Emiko one last smile before heading for the kitchen.

(Y/n) could hear arguing coming from Emiko’s room as she cooked breakfast. It was clear the little girl would pull no punches on (Y/n)’s first day, making this a difficult start to what would hopefully be her new, permanent job.

Kuroo eventually entered the kitchen, frustration evident in his features as he carried Emiko to the small dining table. The little girl kicked and struggled in his hold, whining and grunting as she tried getting away. Her school uniform and hair was a mess, it couldn’t have been genes making her jet-black hair stick up like that.

(Y/n) served Emiko her breakfast as soon as the young girl was in her chair, ensuring she wouldn’t try running off to get her father to chase her. Those adorable amber eyes identical to Kuroo’s lit up as she began digging into her breakfast, not even bothering to wait for her dad to sit beside her.

The older man adjusted his tie before sitting at the table and beginning to eat breakfast as well; he seemed very pleased with the comfortable silence that enveloped the three of them.

(Y/n) turned her back to them to start washing dishes. And that’s when things took a turn.

“Can we stop at McDonald’s on the way home from school, daddy?” Emiko asked, her mind already on her next meal despite the near-empty plate of pancakes in front of her.

“You’ll have to ask (Y/n), sweetheart. From now on she’s going to be the one taking you to school and bringing you home.”

Emiko didn’t like her father’s reply. Not one bit.

She practically threw her fork down on the table, a fire in her eyes (Y/n) was all too familiar with. “I don’t want her to take me! I want you to take me!” she shouted, mouth still full of half-chewed pancakes.

“Emiko, the earlier daddy gets to work the earlier he can come home to you.” Kuroo reasoned, only to be met with a glare from his daughter.

“You always say that then pick me up late from school anyway!” she snapped, “I don’t want her!”

Kuroo gave Emiko a stern look. “Emiko. I’m the parent and you’re the child. I’m saying (y/n) is taking you to school. She’s taking you to school.”

(Y/n) internally cringed at that. Maybe she externally cringed too. She could have a talk with him about that communication later.

Emiko kicked her legs under the table, causing it to thump as Kuroo hardened his gaze. “Well if you’re done eating you can go ahead and get to school.” Kuroo stood up and scooped Emiko out of her chair despite her protests, ignoring her as she screamed her head off and thrashed in his arms.

In the midst of her thrashing, her closed fist collided roughly with Kuroo’s nose. In shock, he set Emiko down and cupped his nose in pain, the pain causing his eyes to water. Emiko looked shocked for a moment before continuing her tantrum.

Kuroo wordlessly picked Emiko back up, grabbed her schoolbag, and carried her to (Y/n)’s car. (Y/n) followed behind silently, unlocking the car so he could get Emiko in the back seat. Once she was strapped in, (Y/n) turned Kuroo to face her and cupped his cheek.

“Let me see that, do you need ice?” She asked before he quickly pulled away.

“I’ll be okay… Drive carefully.”

(Y/n) bit her lip before getting into the driver’s seat, wincing at the volume of Emiko’s screams. Despite how upset he was, Kuroo blew a kiss to the crying child in the car before turning to go back in the house.

Emiko sobbed and screeched and wailed the whole way to school, somehow not tiring herself out at all no matter how hard she thrashed in her seat. (Y/n) was almost grateful to pull up to the school parking lot and get the screaming child out of her car.

She opened the backseat of the car, noticing how Emiko flinched away as she was now practically hyperventilating through her tears.

(Y/n) immediately set beside her and cupped her cheeks so Emiko would look at her. “Hey, hey- it’s okay. Just look at me and breathe, okay, pretty girl? It’s okay, breathe.” (Y/n) cooed, gingerly wiping Emiko’s tears.

Emiko continued breathing hard, her tiny chest heaving with each breath she took. “D-Dont yell at meee!” She wailed, “Pleaaase don’t yell at me! Don’t be maaad!”

“Sweetie I’m not mad at you, I’m not going to yell at you,” (Y/n) assured her, brushing strands of messy hair off her tear-stained cheeks. “I’m never ever going to yell at you, okay? Please just be a good girl and breathe with me, okay?”

Emiko nodded quickly, staring up at (Y/n) as she mirrored her breathing. A couple moments later, Emiko was breathing normally, blinking back tears and shaking in her seat.

“Good girl,” (Y/n) gave her a gentle smile as she praised her, continuing to stroke her head. “Can you tell me why you’re upset?”

The little girl sniffled, her bottom lip quivering, “I hit my daddy…” she whimpered.

(Y/n) frowned as she began to try combing down Emiko’s messy hair with her fingers. “You didn’t like hitting your daddy, huh?”

Emiko responded only by shaking her head. “He hates me…”

“That’s not true.” (Y/n) quickly corrected her, tilting her head. “Your daddy loves you soooo much. And I bet more than anything he just wants a great big hug from you to make it okay. How about when he gets home, you apologize and kiss and hug him better?”

Emiko nodded sadly, nervously picking at her fingers.

“We have to get you into school now, okay? I want you to think about what you want for dinner and I’ll take you grocery shopping with me after I pick you up, okay?” (Y/n) smiled down at her. “Anything you want I’ll make, then you and daddy can sit down at dinner and share it.”

(Y/n) felt relief wash over her as Emiko nodded and unbuckled her own seatbelt, moving to get out of the car. “Do you know how to make spaghetti?” She asked quietly.

(Y/n) giggled and helped her out of the car, walking her to the front doors. “That’s my faaavorite thing to cook! I’ll make a list for the grocery store, sound good?”

Emiko nodded, already looking like she had perked up. The two said their goodbyes and (Y/n) left her teacher her phone number before going back to the house. Hopefully Kuroo would be gone and the two could avoid an awkward encounter.

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Taglist:

@kellyyween @whore-for-anime @lilith412426 @yourstarvic @prinkipissa-aa @syynnaaah @boosyboo9206 @lowkey-falling-apart @chwlogy @chichibia @chirity-chu @faithfulferns @fi-chanwrites

#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou #Kuroo Tetsurou x reader #The Nanny Series #Single Dad!Kuroo

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yandere-romanticaa · 4 years

Text

Not all that glitters is gold.

The library was filled with quiet chatter from various students as the gentle rays of sunlight illuminated the ancient books in front of you, giving them an even more mysterious aura. You were preparing yourself for an upcoming assigment and seeing that you were a new student and that you couldn't peform any sort of magic, headmaster Crowley made it his mission to help you adjust in this quirky academy. But to be frank, assigments were the last thing you wanted to do. The headmaster also often made you clean up various parts of the castle which was in itself very tiresome and if you add the stress from the classes you took, it was safe to say that all you really wanted was to nap and maybe have a snack. It also didn't help that Grimm bearly lifted a paw to help you too...

But still, even in a dire situation like this you did your absolute best to remain positive. There was no use in panicking. Tapping your fingers against the wodden table, you looked at the window and was met with your own complexion and only then did you realize just how messy you were. You hair was messy and all over the place, your clothes were slightly filthy and your face had seen better days. You sighed as you retuned your gaze back to your books, waiting for your so called partner to show up. Headmaster Crowley assigned you a partner to work with for the next few weeks and you figured that he was going to be at least a year ahead of you. A part of you was overjoyed by the news since you really could use the extra help. The other part though couldn't help but to feel slightly nervous as you had no clue just who in the world he could be. Headmaster Crowley said that he was a competent and brilliant student and that you shouldn't have too much trouble with him.

As if on cue, the large wooden doors to the library were open and the distinct sound of shoes clicking against the tile floor could be heard as at least half of the students there stopped with their activites to marvel at the one who entered.

Vil Schoenheit.

You heard about him before, he was a well known figure in not just Night Raven but in the entire Twisted Wonderland. He was known for his breathtaking beauty and intelligence and the entire student body couldn't help but admire him. Head tilted up proudly, he sauntered towards your table and before you knew it he was standing right in front of you. You finally got a good look at him as you realized just how utterly flawless he was.

"No need to stare dear, beauty isn't something so contagious."

You couldn't help but to blush a little by his statement as you slightly pouted and looked down, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

"Before we even beging doing anything else may I ask, why do you look like that? When was the last time you took a bath, slept properly, hm?"

...Not even five minutes had past and this guy was already getting on your nerves. Your confidence grew back a little as you looked up at him, (e/c) eyed slightly narrowed in annoyance. His purple ones stared right back at you, his own distaste being put on display.

"Well? Aren't you going to answer me?"

You didn't have the patience for this.

He let out a sigh, closing his eyes in the process as he messaged his temples to calm himself down. He wordlessly sat in front of you, crossing his arms. Deep violet orbs stared back in to your own as neither one of you was willing to break eye contact. The air around you seemed to thicked as the perfume he wore started to invade your nostrils, the slightly flowery scent only causing you to furrow your brows even more. You two stayed like that for a few minutes, just studying each other in this thick silence. A few students who passed your table were weirded out by your behaviour but you paid no mind to them, and he seemed to be doing so as well. It felt like an eternity had passed until you finally decided to break the silence:

"Are we going to start working or what? We don't have all day."

"No, no we do not. But I absolutely refuse to work with someone who looks as filthy as you. At least take a shower!"

You couldn't help but to smirk a little knowing that you were getting to him. Being dirty was bothering you as well but he was just blowing this entire thing out of proportion.

"Don't you know that if you want to be the best you must look your best?!"

His teeth were gritted as his deep gaze seem to shot daggers in to your very soul but oddly enough he didn't intimidate you. A sudden wave of confidence washed over you as you found your voice once more, pure annoyance and determination lacing your voice.

"Vil, have you ever heard of the phrase "Not all that glitters is gold"? Looking good is not the be all and end all."

Your words stung the blond haired male as he continued to glare at you but no words came out of his mouth.

You two continued to bicker like this for the rest of the afternoon until the sun finally came down. The warm orange glow casted a shadown upon yours and Vil's table, only separating the two of you even more. You bearly got anything done that day and just before you could turn to leave, Vil's voice stopped you.

"Be back here tomorrow at the same time, and don't be late. Understood?"

You slammed the door shut, not giving him an answer.

♡♡♡

"Not all that glitters is gold."

Your words ran through Vil's head as he angrily paced around his room, checking his reflection every now and then. He couldn't believe that headmaster Crowley had partnered him up with someone like that, it was just disgraceful! His blood was boiling and it felt as though it was going to burst from the raw and sheer anger he was feeling at that moment. What made him even more mad was that he was still thinking about you. Why the Hell was he doing that?! He has better things to do anyway...!

♡♡♡

Hours turned in to days, and days turned in to weeks and you just could not seem to understand Vil. It bothered you greatly by just how arrogant he acted at times and his harshness towards you only made you dislike him even more. It also didn't help that he had such a strong presence in Night Raven so no matter where you went with Vil someone was bound to show up.

It was annoying.

Vil on the other hand pretty much never left your side and would pester you about literally everything you did. Your hair was too messy, that top didn't go with those pants, your back wasn't straight enough, your handwriting was poor, you were carrying the wrong book, you couldn't use any magic. It was getting to you, it honestly was. Just when you thought you could maybe get some time alone and gather your thoughts, Vil demanded that you eat lunch with him in order to keep and eye on you. He was driving you insane but it had become common for the two of you to fight, so much so that as a joke Rook even made a schedule. One Saturday morning though, Vil woke up in a rather bitter mood which was quite unusal for him. He did his usual morning routine, did his hair and make up, got dressed and took his books. Just as he was about to leave, the reality of the situation hit him like a truck.

It was Saturday.

You two didn't have to study together.

That thought should have brought him piece of mind but oddly enough, it didn't. His heartbeat quickened as a light sheen of sweat started to form on his forehead.

Why was he feeling like this?! He should be glad that he was no longer in your presence...! But he couldn't deny that at times, you were quite entertaining. Even if you were pretty much useless when it came to magic you were good with your words and just had this sort of charm that drew people in from time to time. When you bothered to get dressed nicely though, dare he say you looked absolutely stunning...

...What the Hell was wrong with him?!

♡♡♡

Exiting the Heartslabyul dorm, you continued to laugh as Grim, Deuce and Ace walked by your side, Grim pouting while the other two could not contain their laughter.

"You stupid raccoon, you burned that cake to a crisp! You should have seen Riddle's face, he was soooo pissed~!"

"How many times do I have to tell you explosion head, I'm not a raccoon!"

Vil was annoyed by the noise the three of you were causing but just when he was ready to give you all a piece of his mind, he saw you, smiling and laughing your heart out. He'd never seen you in such a cheery state, the closest thing he'd ever gotten from you that could resemble a smile but even then it was always a teasing one, meant to drive him up the wall. He soundlessly watched your little group up from the staircase, millions of diffirent thoughts running throught his troubled mind. You were so oblivious, weren't you? Did you really fail to notice just how much attention you were getting by simply smiling?

Just as about you were going to leave the main hallway, you stopped dead in your tracks an odd sense of fear filling your stomach. Your gut was screaming at you that something was wrong, that someone was watching you and your every move and whoever that someone was, they were damning your very soul to the deepest parts of Hell. You finally got the bright idea to look up and once you did, nothing could prepare you for the subtle but cold terror that was creeping upon you. Up the staircase stood Vil in all his glory, but his face was stern, his red lips pressed in a thin line but it were his eyes that unsettled you the most. You've never seen so much raw hatred directed towards someone and for the first time in a while, you were left speechless. You had no smartass comebacks this time, no sassy or cute jokes to fire back at the vain student. All you could do was stare and stay still in your place and just pray for him to just move, even if it was just his pinkie finger.

"Uh, hello, Earth to (y/n)?! You still with us??"

You were brought back down to Earth by your friends touch on your shoulder. The hand belonged to Deuce and when his hand came in to contact with your shoulder, Vil's expression hardened even more. You laughed nervously, just trying to brush of Vil and you continued to walk with your friends.

So that's how we're going to play, hm?

♡♡♡

No amount of preparation could prepare you for the horrors that awaited you on Monday morning. You were awoken by Rook who was given direct orders from Vil to bring you to the Pomfiore dormitory. Apparently, Vil made a little deal with the headmaster, and the headmaster approved. According to the arrangements, you could now sleep in the Pomfiore dormitory and you were to accompany Vil to all of his classes in order for you to better grasp certain subjects. The scariest part of everything though wasn't just this sudden change, but Vil's attitude towards you. If you two were in a crowd he was very nice to you, downright sweet even. In private though, his behavior would change and he would become a lot more controling and demanding. You could no longer be alone, it was a rule to be by Vil's side 24/7 and if you tried to break it Rook would just appear out of nowhere and deliver you to Vil.

His presence became overbearing as he demanded to be the one to dress you, wash your hair, do literally everything for you. You couldn't tell what was going on with him but something was surely wrong. His behaviour would shift so unexpectedly that you were never quite prepared for it. If you behaved well and did what he told you, Vil would spoil you with more undivided attention and gifts that most likely cost a fortune and then some. Some students even began to ship the two of you, cooing at Night Raven's "power couple". A lot of people were enchanted by the tale of the beauty Vil Schoenheit falling for a non magic user, but that person simply must be something special in order to catch his watchful eye.

You on the other hand felt like you could no longer breathe. Looking at your own reflection in the mirror, you bearly paid attention to the stunning purple dress that perfectly hugged your curves and the exquisite make up that Vil himself put on you.

You were a perfect doll, just like how Vil wanted you to be. He was going to break you, he was going to teach you a lesson about being oh so careless with his poor heart. And then he was going to mold you back together, in to the perfect little darling, worthy of being by his side.

♡♡♡

Tagging @poisonepel because I would love to hear your opinion on this! You are a Vil Schoenheit connoisseur, please, do tell if you think he'd be like this? And sorry if this was bad, I'm new for writing Vil!

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil schoenheit x reader #twisted wonderland vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit

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vanchlo · 4 years

Text

Birdy (Green Eyes / 2)

Read the first part, Green Eyes, here! :-)

Blurb Synopsis: After finally meeting the mysterious Mr. Styles you subbed for, you take a job at the same school, right across the hall from him. You’re unsure how much longer you can hide your feelings for him as you’ve grown to become best friends.

Genre: Teacher Harry, fluff, romance, angst, and a little sad.

Warnings: None

Word Count: Nearly 8k words

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: Blackbird by The Beatles (click to listen)

Your desk was covered in Twix wrappers, multicolored gel pens, and empty cans of Coke. The new school year hadn’t even begun, and your desk already looked like a tornado had come by. Not to mention the fact that school started in almost three weeks and you hardly had any classroom books. You kept telling yourself it’s a high school English classroom, not a third-grade classroom. There’s a library down the hall for a reason, but the classroom barren of books drove you nuts. Your desk wasn’t shy to books though, as favorites of Harry had found a home on the dark wood.

Leaves of Grass.

Catcher in the Rye.

The Sun Also Rises.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Walking into your classroom on this sunny morning, the thought makes the smile on your face grow wider. Finally, you can say that you have your own classroom. The sight of the week-old books leaves the smile there on your lips. A laugh dances off of them at the sight of the Roald Dahl book, bringing you back to the memory when you found it there one morning.

You had asked Harry why he included it in the occasional stack of books he loaned to you. He said it’s required reading, because so few people know the movies are based on a book. You’re just wondering when he’s going to slip The Outsiders or Stuart Little under your door next.

The rows of ancient cream desks stare back at you, and you wonder just how you’re going to command a classroom in a few days. Well, seven of them to be exact. Then you try to remind yourself, for the twentieth time, that you’ve done this before. It won’t be so hard, then. Perhaps you’ll even have some past students, and that should help. Right?

You’ve barely gotten a few steps into your classroom, because of the thoughts muddling your mind. Sighing, you slip off your bag to leave on your chair. One that some days you don’t even sit in, because your legs are walking miles around your classroom, setting up. Thumbtacks are scattered across the expanse of your desk, reminding you of the unfinished walls. Before you can think about the posters sitting in the corner, a flash of pink catches your eye. Furrowing your brow, your eyes flit back to the flash of color.

It’s a hot pink Post-It note with messy handwriting in black ink.

Should I get us burgers or subs for the meeting we have today?

PS: You’re officially a teacher now with your own pad of Post-Its ;)

You’re sure that the insane happiness painting your face would look more at home on that of a teenager. Nonetheless, you can’t get rid of it, and you wouldn’t want to. This rings even more true when you see the note is stuck to a copy of Matilda. A warmth blossoms in your chest as you pick it up, running your thumb along the weathered edges. Ones you haven’t touched in ages, it seems. Within seconds you’re stepping into the hallway, thoughts knitting together in your mind. They’re from the love you have deep down for this story, a favorite book, and movie of yours as a child. The elation budding in your mind stops when you find his door closed, just as you had minutes ago. Unable to hide your disappointment, a pout tugs at your lips as you turn around.

“Ya gotta verdict already? Dat was quick,” a voice drawls from behind you. Your pout is a thing of the past, and a grin is making its way to replace it. Spinning around, your summery dress follows your twirling body.

A couple paces away, Harry stands at the top step of the staircase. His trademark brown leather backpack is slung over one shoulder. A black Fleetwood Mac t-shirt hugs his upper half, a black and blue flannel covering his arms. His old skool Vans echo down the hallway as he walks towards you.

“Well, I’ve already read it,” you inform him, observing his content smile turn into a confused one. “A couple of times actually. Once when I was 8, then some other times through the years.”

“Ah, so I got lucky and happened upon a lifetime favourite, have I?” he smirks, only a few steps away now.

“Mmmhmm,” you nod, your growing hair tickling your chin before you move it away. “When are you going to tell me what your favorite book is?”

“When ya finally guess it right,” he quips, stopping in front of you. A dimple falls into his left cheek as he shows off his sparkling teeth. Okay, sir, it is too early in the morning to be looking this attractive.

“I’m going to have to ask you to stop being so chipper when it’s only nine in the morning,” you tell him firmly, but it’s all for show. Poking his chest, your finger just hits pure muscle. Swoon.

“Then maybe wake up, already, birdy,” he chirps, the Raybans in his hair moving when his head goes from side to side. Chuckling, he grabs hold of your finger and tries to bite it, but you pull away in time. The mention of the recent pet name slows you down, but you haven’t gotten bitten yet. “Ya betta not fall asleep in today’s meetin’ like ya did last week.”

“I didn’t fall asleep, I was just resting my eyes!” you exclaim, throwing your hands into the air. His amused giggle greets your ears as he unclips his ring of keys from his blue jeans.

“Yes ya did, ya don’t getta lie t’ me, love,” he responds in between laughs, seemingly finding this more amusing than it really is.

“Oh, so John can fall asleep at meetings, but I can’t?” you ask, your voice raising with laughter and faux annoyance.

You watch Harry pluck his sunglasses from his head as you walk into his dark classroom. The streams of sunlight speckle desks and pictures donning his walls. As you flick on the light, the smell of oranges wafts over you again. The red bowl sat upon his desk filled with the citrus makes you feel at home, albeit his mere presence does that without fail.

“No, ya can’t. Sorry, love. I don’t make tha rules ‘round here.”

“Lame,” you sigh, paging through the book mindlessly as you fall into his new chair. He finally splurged and bought a comfy leather one that you steal every chance you can get.

“Want a Bit-O-Honey, honey?” Harry offers, pulling your eyes away from the familiar pictures. Grinning, you take the wrapped candy from his outstretched hand, trying to ignore the pet name. You find it hard to forget as you half look through the book and half watch him peel off his flannel. A sight, indeed.

“Wait, how’d you put this in my room if the door was locked? The other books you sneaked in when I stepped out,” you ask suddenly, working on the piece of hard candy in your mouth.

“I tol’ Marty tha janitor I forgot sumthin’ in yer room.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice even though his back is to you. A broad one at that. When he turns just the slightest to peek at you, you find crinkles around his glimmering eyes.

“Harry!” you scoff, your jaw falling to your chest, although not quite.

“Oh stop it, ya know ya like it.”

Groaning, you cross your arms over your chest in annoyance, but it doesn’t last very long.

“I don’t like all of these meetings,” you complain, throwing your head back onto the headrest. You flip to a page that makes you smile at the sight of cartoon Matilda.

“Get used t’ it, ‘s one o’ tha big differences between bein’ a sub an’ a salaried teacher. Shoulda just stayed a sub then,” he jokes, driving you to pick up a Bit-O-Honey and throw it at his head. Turning away from the things he’s unloading from his backpack, he whines. “Heeey! Watch dat arm o’ yers, ‘s a scary one. Maybe ya should be teachin’ gym class instead.”

“Sports are ew,” you reply, ducking when he throws it back at you. “Harry Styles, you stop it!” you manage in between giggles, finally closing the book.

“Oh ya, and what’re ya gonna do ‘bout it in t’ose heels, huh?” he teases, his hands leaving the pockets of his oversized backpack. “Ya gonna fly over t’ me, li’l birdy?”

Huffing, you set down the book on his neat desk. Placing his hands on his hips, he turns to you and sticks out his tongue.

“Oh, that’s it! You’re going to get it!” you threaten, standing from the chair as his laughter fills the room.

“‘m soooo scared, boohoo,” he teases with a fake sob, his fists mimicking wiping tears from his cheeks. Snickering, he returns to his backpack. “Go hang up yer posters in yer room and leave me be fer once.”

“You’re no fun,” you proclaim with a final whimper. Grabbing the book, you come up from behind him, softly hitting him with it on the shoulder.

“I warned you,” he retorts. Before you know it, he gently grabs your wrist and pulls you over to stand in front of him.

“Warned me about what?” you jest, a giggle wedging its way into your sentence as you drop the book onto a desk. You know that you’re getting on his nerves now. It’s the only time you’ve heard his teacher voice come out, but hey, you’re not complaining.

His thick eyebrows above those eyes raise, wrinkling his forehead tan from your days at the beach the last few months. Harry pushing you off a rope swing into the water, him bitching about doing all of the paddling during your canoe trip, not so accidentally drenching your back with water from his paddle, and head dunking competitions while swimming. The tan looks far better on him, you think, as you admire the sun-kissed freckles peppering his face.

“I told ya one time dat yer good at pushin’ me buttons, and here ya are doin’ it. I know I shoulda neva told ya dat,” he mutters, the curls atop his head dancing as his head rocks back and forth. The nervous laughter bubbling inside of you finds its escape, and you know that you’ve done it now. “But I guess ya jus’ don’t listen, do ya, bird?”

You can’t stop yourself, and there you are poking his dimple with your finger. This time, you squeal when it finds its way between his nibbling teeth. His name leaves your lips in a near shout which only grows worse as his fingers dance along your ribs.

“Stop, stop!” you cry out, but with no avail. His other arm comes around your middle to trap you with your back against a desk, despite your squirming. His other fingers dig into your sides before finding the soft flesh of your tummy.

“Stop bloody screamin’, yer gonna make e’rybody think ‘m murderin’ ya or sumthin’,” he titters. You almost give in at the sight of his crinkly eyes and the smile stretching across his face.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I might jus’ hafta find a way t’ shut ya up, my li’l bird,” he coos from above you, a brunette brow raising.

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really,” he hums, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your side now.

His bubblegum lips relax, falling into a knowing smirk. The laughs disappear from the both of you as his fingers still, resting on your side. The seconds tick by as your heart hammers in your chest, because his face is closer than it was a second ago. You gulp, suddenly finding the gold flecks in his eyes you didn’t know were there. Or the smattering of tiny freckles along his nose. That all becomes a thought of the past when his lips become the only thing you can think about as they near you. “Shall I?” Harry says in a breathy whisper, and you’re nodding even before his last syllable hits the air.

Your skin feels hot and prickly all over as your eyes fall closed, waiting for what happens next. The very thing you’ve dreamed of since that day you dropped the books in front of him. When he took off his shirt at the beach, revealing his toned chest covered in black tattoos. The charisma and kindness he carried at your very first meeting after you were hired, the beginning of you two being joined at the hip.

His lips are soft when he presses them against yours, and warm. He surrounds your lips with his slowly, as excitement rushes through you. A woodsy smell engulfs you when your nose brushes against his prickly cheek. His lips feel like velvet against yours with the slightest taste of Carmex chapstick. You’re sure he can feel the smile hiding on yours as his top lip fits between yours like a puzzle piece. His thin beard you’ve never seen him without tickles at your skin as your lips mold together. You can still feel the tingle on your lips after he’s pulled away. As well as the one that spreads across your body when those green eyes look into yours.

“See, I was right. It did get you t’ shuddup,” he mumbles, the blissed-out smirk on his face covering every inch of his skin. You’ve seen his nervous smiles and everything in between, but you’re certain you’ve never seen that smile before. Not that your face is any better, because right now it’s a competition between whose smile is bigger. It might just be a tie, and you wish there could be a tie-breaker.

“You should do that more often,” you smile, an uneasy laugh bringing an end to your risky words.

“I think ‘d be happy with dat.”

You try to tell yourself you’re glad his hands didn’t stray to your face, because he would’ve felt the heat of your tomato likened cheeks. There’s no use, because you want them there, but on your sides, as they are is better than nothing. It fills your stomach with multitudes of butterflies just to have your hands on each other.

His hands draw shapes into your back when you wrap him in a hug. The fresh smell of his citrus body wash fills your nose, your skin touching the fabric of his shirt.

“Ya gonna get all soft on me now, are ya?” he whispers above you, his cheek against the side of your head.

“Mmmhmm,” is all you can muster as you find yourself dragging the tips of your fingers along his side.

Raising your head to peek up at him, his eyes drop to you. “Good, I like ya dat way,” he murmurs, running his thumb along the roundness of your cheek. His tongue peeks out of his lips, held between his teeth. “Verdict?” he almost laughs, causing the butterflies inside of you to stir.

“I don’t know. I think I might need um, another sample,” you smirk, watching a corner of his mouth meet his cheek.

“Tha’s fair,” he agrees before dipping to plant another kiss to your lips. His lips are even more decadent a second time, and you quickly realize how addicting this could become. You realize it’s the only addiction you’d be okay with having as the tip of his nose caresses your cheek.

Your lips part with a soft smack, much too soon for your liking. “We should prolly get back t’ work,” Harry snickers, his breath against your face sweet from the caramel candy.

“Yeah,” you agree aloud, much to your dismay. “I’d give it an A, by the way.”

“Hmmm,” he thinks aloud, quirking his eyebrows in response.

“A long overdue one.”

“‘d say yer right there,” he echos, pinching your cheek between his fingers. Giggling, you pull away as your laughs mix with each other’s.

“Hey, Harry!” a voice calls, sounding far away.

You separate quickly, like two magnets repelling each other. It saddens you, but when a colleague steps into Harry’s classroom a moment later, you’re met with relief as you grab the book off the desk.

“Hi, Trent. Ya ready t’ see who falls asleep first in t’day’s meetin’?” he quips, stuffing his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly leaning against a desk.

“My money’s on John, for sure,” Trent jokes, pressing his red glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Oh hi, Y/N,” he says, greeting you. You wave with a small ‘hi’ as you stand at the edge of the classroom near the windows uneasily.

“I dunno, my money feels pretty good on her,” Harry teases, pointing a finger at you before winking.

“Whatever. I better go take my nap now that you reminded me,” you return, sauntering out of the room and into the hall.

Out of his presence, the butterflies take flight inside of you. A warmth fills your body all over when you reach the safety of your classroom. Closing the door, you fall against it with happiness jumping from the smile on your lips. Squealing with your hands held to your chest, you soon sigh at the thought of his lips. His lips soon being on yours again, and again, and again.

Exhaling, you step down from the chair and stare at your hard work. Nodding in approval, you straighten the skirt of your patterned mustard dress. The happy face of Anne Frank looks back at you from the enlarged poster of her autobiography. Dragging your feet over to your desk, you plop onto your brown spinny chair, ignoring your heels forgotten on the floor. You bask in the new ambiance of your classroom, feeling the pleasure from the new posters donning your walls.

The Diary of Anne Frank.

Ross from F.R.I.E.N.D.S saying ‘you’re means y-o-u a-r-e.’

The quote, ‘Never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not’ - Tyrion Lannister.

A funny grammar poster that makes you feel like an even bigger English nerd.

Frowning, the last poster in the corner sits there begging to be shown off, but you need help with it. After the events of earlier, you’re nervous to approach Harry. A sweet kind of nervousness, but nonetheless it’s there. Huffing, you grab the edge of the desk to pull you closer. Pressing play, the Queen song crawls from your laptop’s speakers, slowly filling the room. Clicking through your open windows, you finally find the unit plan you’ve been working on.

Voices carry down the hallway outside your door, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. Squinting, as if it will help your hearing, you then tilt your head to look out your half-opened door. Jackson from the nearby history wing walks by, laughing at something somebody said.

“Dis betta not be a bloody heavy desk, Jack,” somebody responds, amusement laced in their voice.

“Hey, I know that voice,” you softly whisper to yourself, your lips curling at its sound.

“You’re the one who agreed to help me! You can’t get out of helping me bring it in now, Harry!”

You hear the melodic sound of his laugh, perhaps one of your favorite sounds. The butterflies return when you let yourself think about getting to hear it as much as you’d like in these walls. 5 days a week for 9 months out of the year- well, something like that.

A couple seconds later, Harry zooms past your door saying, “Get t’ work!” in a mocking deep voice, winking.

“You!” you shout back, giggling to yourself with hot cheeks. You attempt to return your attention to the document open on your screen. It’s difficult, you find, because the thing consuming your mind is how nice Harry’s bum looked in those jeans.

Chatter pecks at your ears as you swivel in your chair, watching your new colleagues converse around the table. Your new boss laughs with somebody standing at the room’s front by the projector screen. Reaching forward, you pluck another carrot from your plate to nibble on nervously. Once again, you pull out your phone to busy yourself, only making you feel guiltier for not mingling. You’ve already said at least a ‘hi’ to everyone in this room already, and you have the rest of your career to get to know them, you tell yourself. Bouncing your leg, your eyes drift to the clock on the wall. Impatience spreads like a hot wave throughout your limbs, bringing your eyes yet again to the back door to the conference room. When is he going to get here, you guess fervently, counting down the minutes until the meeting starts.

A thud! surprises you when a white paper bag lands on the table in front of you.

“Hmm, I didn’t know ya were a jumpa,” a voice snickers, its owner soon coming into view in front of you. Harry. “Why ya lookin’ like a lost puppy, bird?” he coos, pushing out his bottom lip as he pulls out the chair to your right.

“I’m not,” you retort, continuing to scroll through Instagram, stopping when you see a picture of a Goldendoodle puppy.

“Yes, ya do. What, were ya wonderin’ what’d ya do if I didn’t show? Can’t have ya missin’ yer security blanket now,” he teases, poking you in the ribs with a glint in his eye.

“Stop,” you giggle, placing your phone face down on the table. Sitting up and eyeing the food, you pinch his thigh for good measure.

“Hey, watch those fingas, missy. They keep gettin’ ya into trouble lately,” he warns, tsking as his head goes from side to side. Opening the bag, he pulls out a familiar wrapped burger to hand to you.

“Thank you, I’ll pay you back.”

“Shhhh, ya can pay next time. Sound good?” Harry hums, flitting his eyes to you with an eyebrow raise.

You give him his answer with a nod before taking a bite of the cheeseburger. Your boss starts to tell everybody to find a seat so they can begin the meeting. Out of the corner of your eye, Harry sets a packet of fries in front of you. Shooting him a smile, he returns it as he feeds one between his happy lips. Chairs squeak and whine as they’re moved and sat in around the long table. Somebody nudges your foot, and to no surprise, you find it’s Harry. He holds out a covered paper cup, a red straw poking from the top. A ‘thank you’ is held in your smile and he just nods, slipping off his sunglasses to set down. Your attention is stolen by his fingers raking through his curls to put them back in place.

A thought pops into your head unwarranted, and consumes your attention as the principal speaks. I wonder if this means now I get to run my fingers through those curls, you ponder as you grab a fry. At the most inconvenient time possible, your mind starts to dig around. Doubts soon fill your thoughts, along with questions about what this will be with him. You try to push them away and lock them in a box, but they’ve done their job. Any smile left on your lips is gone now, and you continue to eat your burger quietly.

“Ya eat jus’ like a bird with t’ose li’l bites,” Harry whispers, scooting closer to the table to retrieve the packets of ketchup from the bag.

Turning to look at him, he holds a glowing smile in his eyes for you. His shoe knocks into yours and he leaves it sitting on top of yours. Take that, stupid brain, you announce to your thoughts as you affectionately bump your knee against Harry’s.

Reverting your thoughts to the towering figure speaking at the front of the room, a smile buds on your lips at the feeling of Harry rubbing his knee against yours.

Rubbing your hands across your eyes, you feel the breath leave you in a whoosh. Tapping the board with your electronic marker that’s a pen, highlighter, and an eraser in one, you drag it in zig zags. The scribbles on the board disappear in a flash. Suddenly, it falls from your hands when you feel a pair of arms surround your waist.

“Hiya, bird,” a voice says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Their warm breath tickles the nape of your neck, and so does the collar of their shirt. Spinning around, you find Harry standing there, a pout forming on his face. The adorable Starry Night tie you bought for him hangs loosely over his cornflower blue button-down. “What, why won’t ya lemme hug you?”

“Harry, anybody could walk in,” you insist, prying his arms from your waist. Bending down, you pick up the pen and place it back in its holder with a click.

“All tha students are gone by now, babe. ‘s half past 3, and any dat are around are at practice. Tha last place they’d wanna be ‘s back t’ a classroom afta their first day o’ school,” he murmurs, wedging his way back into your good graces as he pulls you back into his arms. “I wanted t’ see how me birdy’s first day went. Sooooo, wha’s tha verdict?”

“It was good. A little overwhelming, though,” you hum in return, letting your head fall backward to fit against his cheek.

“It ‘s fer e’rybody, love, so don’t worry. It’ll get betta, jus’ hang in there. Tha first month ‘s nothin’, that’s tha honeymoon period befo’ e’rythin’ goes wild.” His lips brush against your cheek with every word, the feeling of his ticklish stubble something you’re not yet used to.

“Harry!” you scoff, turning your head to find his hairy cheeks creased with a devilish smile behind you.

“‘m kiddin’, well not really, but hey, ya got me t’ help ya through it all. Don’t fret, love,” he tries to assure you, brushing the back of his fingers along your side. “What was yer favourite part o’ yer day, hmm?”

“Seeing some familiar students from when I used to sub. It was nice to catch up with them and hear stories,” you reveal, looking down as you cover his hands settled on your tummy with your own.

“Mmm, that’s good. Familiar faces are always nice,” Harry mumbles, the point of his nose dragging along the expanse of your cheek. “Did I tell ya yet ya look really pretty in yer new dress?”

“Yes, you did. About three times, but thank you again.”

“Welcome, bird. I hope no teenage boys are crushin’ on ya now,” he jests, planting a loud kiss on your temple. The remnants of his minty piece of gum cover your face in a silent cloud as he laughs at his own joke.

“Yuck! Oh and like there aren’t dozens of girls fawning over you in your classes?” you chuckle, bringing a whine to his lips when you squirm in his arms. “Put that lip away.”

“Or what? Hmm, what’re ya gonna do ‘bout it? Ya can kiss it away like all tha girls in me classes wanna do, if ya want,” Harry smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you turn around. Lifting a hand from his arm, it lifts to brush back the brown ringlets falling onto his forehead.

“You’re gross sometimes. It makes me wonder how I can kiss that potty mouth.”

“Well ya do, and ya sure seem t’ like it,” he winks, dramatically licking his lips with a loud slurp.

“Stop!” you exclaim, collapsing into laughter, your head returning to his chest. His hands clasp over your back, his thumb brushing your skin through the jade dress you wear. You’re grateful for your face hidden away in his chest for when you feel his lips pepper kisses from your temple to your neck. He leaves your skin tingling from his magical touch, and his growing curls leave a trail down your neck.

“I think dis year’s gonna be a good one,” he coos against your ear, letting his smooth nose brush against its lobe. “I got tha reason right here.”

“Can we do this though?” The words jump from your lips without a chance to catch them and shove them back in their safety.

“Do what, love? Kiss? ‘Course, ya jus’ take yer lips and my lips, and put ‘em togetha’ like dis,” he wisecracks, lifting your head to show you the humor painting his face. Puckering his flushed lips, he closes the space between you to press a peck to your waiting lips. Pulling away, he quirks an eyebrow at you in silent questioning.

“That’s not what I meant, Harry,” you continue, your words falling short of the thoughts buzzing around in your skull.

“Then what’d ya mean?”

“Can we, I don’t know . . ,” you begin, but you lose your footing. Leaving his arms regrettably, you almost lose your footing quite literally when he tries to hold on. A sound leaves his lips at your departure, but you try to ignore it. That’s easier said than done, you realize as you fight with yourself, wondering if you should say that word or not. “Date . . as colleagues?”

They they are, free to the wind. It feels like coming home and your heavy book bag leaving your shoulders, although this time it’s far less trivial. The similarity doesn’t ease your anxious mind as you stop in front of your desk, fingering at the note that greeted you this morning. A pink Post-It note smattered with his sometimes unreadable handwriting, resting on top of a box of novels he gifted to you for your classroom.

To my favorite teacher - I know you’ve been dreading this day for months, and looking forward to it, too. You’re going to do great. They’re going to love you. You’re not going to mess anything up. You got this, bird. Remember that. Take it easy on yourself. Remember, you have to take care of yourself, so then you can take care of them. You’ll learn from each other too. Just keep remembering pizza at the beach with me tonight to celebrate your first day.

Harry xoxooxoxoxo

“‘Course we can, as long as it doesn’t bleed into our work life. What d’ya mean?” Harry says, trying to inject lightheartedness into his words. You both can hear the failed effect they have, and they only make his words sound sadder.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to like, get in trouble, or something. I just started this job.”

“Oh,” is all he mumbles. Mumbled or not, you hear the finality in his one word. As well as all that it says with that single syllable.

Looking over your shoulder at him, you find the confirmation you needed knitting together his features. “Harry,” you say, turning the rest of your body to face him. He takes a step back, and now you know you’ve done it. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Then how’d ya mean it?” he retorts, coolness playing in his voice. He knows he’s done it, too. “Hmmm, bird? Ya only care ‘bout dat part o’ it - if we get caught and what people would think? Only wanna keep me a secret?” His words bite as he spits them into the air. They hit your face with a sting, but nothing compares to how he threw your nickname into the mud. The nickname you love, that happened all because of the first meal you shared together.

“Harry, don’t. You know that’s not what I meant- Y-you’re being ridiculous,” you press, stepping forward. It’s like one step forward and two steps back, because he continues to walk away from you. Quickly, your hands grow shaky as the feeling consumes the rest of your body.

“No, I know what ya meant. Or ‘s there mo’ ya want t’ say? Want t’ say dat ‘Oh, ‘s too risky, so maybe we shouldn’t do dis anymo’, even tho’ it makes us happy,’” Harry persists, his right hand lifting in question, before it falls with a slap to his thigh.

“We never even said what this was,” you try to say, but before you get any further, you know you’re just making it worse. You know that he’ll read into your words incorrectly and assume the worst, despite your true meaning. At the realization, your heart pounds harder in your chest. The look on his face like you just slapped him tells you all you need to know. “Harry, wait.”

“No, yer right. We neva said what dis was, but apparently ‘s nuthin’ worth labelin’ or takin’ risks fer,” he grumbles. His head falls with a spiteful smile, but when it lifts again something shatters in your chest. With wet eyes, he continues in a croaky voice, “Then why’d ya take tha job knowin’ I was mad ‘bout ya?”

Your lips wobble with his name dangling from them. When you try to walk over to him, you’re only two steps in when he holds a hand up. “No, don’t. ‘m glad ya told me early on. ‘m happy I didn’t already start fallin’ fer ya or anythin’. That’d be real shitty, wouldn’t it?” he wheezes, a strange smile tugging at his lips dealing failed sarcasm. Sniffling, a tear falls down his tanned skin and he brushes it away. With a shake of his head, he turns to walk out of the door. You know that you shouldn’t, but you let him, because you know you have to.

Collapsing at your desk, your head falls into your hands. Tears splash into your palms as your chest shakes, wondering just how you turned the best first day into the worst first day.

You know that a note won’t be there, but you continue to wish as your heels clack down the halls of lockers. You know that you’ll see his face no matter how hard you try to avoid him, and that it’ll hurt more than you thought it would. Although you prepared yourself, unlocking the door to your classroom and finding no notes from him hurts more than you suspected. The hurt only stings worse when you pass each other in the halls with your students trailing behind, eyes falling away instantly. The spark in the air is lost when he huffs, passing you on the way to the vending machine in the lounge, leaving as soon as he came. Although the hurt grew as the attacks came and went, nothing could prepare you for the absence of his notes that week. That was an eventuality you had dreaded thinking of since the day you found the first one, back in his classroom.

You tried at the very least, albeit an understatement. Notes dropped into his mailbox went unanswered, as well as texts and phone calls. Even the bag of Bit O Honeys failed at their messages of apology. A few times you thought about trudging into his classroom after the bell rang, and hashing it out. Each time you mustered just enough courage to do so, a staff meeting got in the way. Or, within 5 minutes of the bell, his door was locked and he was gone. Speaking of staff meetings, you suffered even worse at those. No longer was he your security blanket at your side, because he no longer saved you a seat. Slowly, the young and pretty visual arts teacher grew to get on your nerves as you watched her be a little too nice to him. He didn’t entertain her taunts and turn to you with a smirk to rub it in your face. No, he was a good guy, and you had to go and ruin it, or what was becoming of it.

He ignored you - at staff meetings, in the copy room, in the staff lounge, in the halls, when both of your classes were in the library - basically everywhere and anywhere. It was an understatement to say you suffered because of it. You had to buddy up with Jen, the poetry teacher. She took the brunt of your questions, whether technology-related or English related. You became fast friends, but unlike the easiness with Harry, you quickly felt you were a nuisance. That was something he never made you feel like, well, until now that is.

You made the mistake of getting your hopes up when you found a bag of Bit O Honeys in your mailbox one morning. That is until the white note on it told you in his writing to stop plugging his box with them. Instead, you tossed them on the counter in the staff lounge to share, never wanting to see those yellow and red wrappers again. Quickly, what you thought had become your dream job morphed into a nightmare. His face filled your thoughts day after day, and it especially distracted you when your mind chose the tear-stricken memory. It bled into your lectures and although it stung less when you saw him, without fail every day, it was messing with your mind. It didn’t help when you were beginning a unit on Romeo and Juliet and a student joked you could play Juliet and Mr. Styles could play Romeo, quite literally.

You had been staying after school every day to finish lesson plans, grade tests, reflect on teaching, and plan for the next day. The October chill that arrived this week only made you want to stay in your cozy classroom with the Autumn decorations you hung up. Soon, it would be Halloween and costumes would fill the halls. The thought pours memories into your mind, but a particular one sours the enjoyment for you. The memory of planning a matching costume with Harry. Jay and Daisy from The Great Gatbsy, like the English teacher nerds you are. Were.

Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you reach for your water bottle. A groan finds its way past your lips when you pick it up, only to find it's empty. Standing with it in your hands, you cross the room to your door. After a few steps into the hallway, your movements freeze at the sight of his open door. Biting back any hesitations, your hand shakes when it presses against the wood.

Something thrilling washes over you when you find his head bent over his desk. His left hand covered with varying rings props his head up as he marks the page with his favorite red pen. A Micron pen, but only you would know that. Pausing, he fiddles with the tan braces strapping his shoulders clad in a handsome white and gray checkered button-down. Words stick together inside of your mouth, and when you hear the click of your shoe, regret surges inside of you.

“I made a mistake,” you say, testing the waters, although you know they’re stormy. Clearing your throat, you hope the subsequent ones will come out louder and stronger, before he can stop you. Your galloping heart jumps when he lifts his head to look at you, a question painting his face. “I fucked up, and I could never say how sorry I am. I said the wrong things, and I didn’t mean them that way- that’s not the point . . . I miss you, Harry. You’re all I think about, even when I’m thinking of other things, or when I’m teaching. That’s how I know it’s bad, because even though it’s only been a month, it still hurts like it was yesterday,” your voice screeches to a halt. You take one step at a time as he watches you.

A curl tickles his bearded cheek, making you want to tuck it back into place, but you can’t. A crumb from a chip sits on his chin, making you want to brush it away, but you know you can’t. And neither can you whisk away the worry lines forming around his eyes.

“I need you, not just to help me figure out how to use a projector or what a conjunction is again. But I need to tell you about the good parts of my day, and even the bad parts. Because even though we haven’t talked for like a month, my mind still goes to you when something good happens, or even bad. Even my students tease that we should be together, so that says something,” you try your hand at joking, but he turns his attention back to his desk. “Harry, please. I’m sorry,” you plead with him, tears catching the last of your words.

“Sorry doesn’t jus’ make it all go away, bird,” he returns cooly. His head lifts ever so slightly, only to fall. As if he changed his mind a few seconds into a decision.

“I know, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll buy you Bit-O-Honeys for the rest of your life, grade your papers, check your mailbox, or buy the next meals for a month. Anything.” The apologies run off of your lips, but he doesn’t say anything, nor do his actions. An exhale whooshes over your pursed lips as your nails dig into your clenched palms. Defeat covers your body as you turn to leave.

“None o’ dat takes away what ya said,” he announces painfully, the new fabric of his chair squeaking with his movements.

“I know,” you say automatically, a battle waging its way inside of you of whether to look at him. As if his words laced with hurt didn’t already leave you breathless. “So tell me what I have to do.”

“I can’t do dat, bird. Ya should know,” he sighs, clucking his tongue in disbelief.

Your eyes fall shut and your jaw clenches in anger, but the sweet smell of oranges brings you back to the moment. “I’m sorry that I made it seem like it wasn’t worth being with you, because it was, and I realized that even more after . . what happened. I’m sorry that it didn’t seem like I was dedicated enough, but I want to be a- I want to show you that I can be, and I want to be that to you. I’m sorry that I care too much about what other people think, because I only care what you think. It’s ripped me apart lately knowing that you hate me, and how you can’t even be around me, and . . ,” your string of words breaks off, stolen away by your onset of tears. They rumble through your chest with tremors, and the embarrassment brings your hands to your face streaked with them.

The howling of the wind hugs the windows, masking any other sounds. If there were, you can’t hear them, but you do feel something. His fingers wrapping around yours, pulling your hands away from your face.

“Ya gonna stop now befo’ ya make me cry too?” he hums, one corner of his lips turned up ever so slightly. With raised eyebrows, they pose the question to you. Nodding fast with hiccups stealing your words, he kneads your hands between his own. “Are ya gonna shuddup or am I gonna hafta make you?” Harry softly laughs.

“You’re going to have to make me,” you return, stumbling over your sobbed words.

“Good, was hopin’ ya’d say dat.”

Smirking playfully, he steps forward to cup your face in his hands. The callused tips of his fingers make quick work of the tears staining your face, as well as his lips. “Don’t cry, and don’t ever say dat I hate you,” he coos in between pecks to your wet skin singing with his kisses. “Don’t want me pretty birdy t’ cry no mo’.”

“Your bird doesn’t want to cry and be sad, and miss you anymore,” you whimper, trying to hold it all in, but it comes pouring out.

“Baby bird,” he pouts sadly, his rose lips round and extended. His brow presses into a sad line as the same emotion carries his words. “Lemme make it all betta.”

Nodding, you hiccup again as you cover his hands with yours. His subsequent smile warms your insides cold and aching from the long days without him. His lips bring a respite when they touch yours, ending the harsh drought. Kissing him back, you revel in the feeling of his unkempt scratchy beard against your face. Just one more thing you missed. Severing the kiss, you mumble an ‘I’m sorry’ against his chapped lips.

“Shhh, ‘s okay, love. I know ya are,” he tells you before bringing his lips back against yours. They move together slowly, welcoming the return of the other.

Your mouth falls to envelope his bottom lip in between yours, his facial hair feathery against your mouth. Hungrily, you kiss him and savor his familiar taste and smell. Fingers drifting to his hair, they return home to his buttery curls. His lips pull away only to plant another kiss against your mouth. Too soon, he breaks the kiss with a breathy laugh against your lips.

“My goodness, lemme breathe, love.”

“Sorry . . I missed you.”

“Ya sure did, bird. Think I missed ya a li’l more, though,” Harry chuckles as your hands fall from his locks. His thumb steals the last hint of a tear from under your eye. The amusement creasing his features disappears swiftly. “‘m sorry too, y’know. I overreacted, and I shouldn’t have put meself over yer job. It wasn’t fair o’ me t’ do dat. D’ya think I can have those Bit-O-Honeys back, or were ya serious ‘bout buyin’ me a lifetime supply?”

Groaning, you playfully shove at his chest, only to have him wrap you up in his arms. “I guess I was serious.”

“Hmm, ya don’t sound too serious ‘bout it, bird. But that’s okay, I got all tha honey I need right here,” he replies, planting a kiss atop your head nuzzled into his neck, swaying you back and forth. Nodding, you finally let yourself relax for the first time in weeks at the greeting of his sweet smell. One that feels like home to you. “Wait, yer students said we should be togetha? That’s funny, cuz so did mine.”

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hangsangwithbts · 4 years

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Sunflower (6)

sm text au in which you and namjoon are childhood bffs.

an: this didn’t come out the way I wanted it to but oh well. I added some texts at the end.and am soooo sorry this took forever to update!

tagging: @flymetokorea @mochiteddybear @givebuckysomelove @youthandtears

___________________________________________________________

“Thank god,” Namjoon groaned, raising his hands up to the sky. He had been the first one out of the car as soon as you parked in the familiar driveway.

“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes, following after him. The drive to his family’s house was no more than an hour, would’ve been shorter if you hadn’t missed a turn but you didn’t mind as it gave you another chance to play spring day for the seventh time. “My driving isn’t bad.”

“But your singing is.” Namjoon replied and judging by the look on your face, he made the wise decision to run away from you.

“I’m telling mom!” You exclaimed as you ran after him, shoving him away from the door so you could be the one to ring the doorbell.

That’s how Namjoon’s mother found the both of you--shoving each other like the little children you used to be. You both came abruptly to a stop, trying to play it off as you composed yourselves. A smile lit up Namjoon’s mother’s face and before you both could greet her properly, she let out a cry of joy and pulled both of you into her arms.

“My loves!” She beamed, giving you a kiss on the cheek before pulling away.

She then turned to Namjoon, her eyes beginning to water. He smiled back at her, showcasing the dimples you found so adorable. He leaned down to be at level with his mother and she peppered his face with kisses. One for each day they had been apart, even though it had only been a couple days. “My son,” she cooed, pulling him into her arms again.

Namjoon wrapped his arms tightly around his mother, basking in the comfort her hugs gave him for as long as he could. You watched--a broad smile on your own face at the heart-warming sight. Namjoon’s mother let go of her son to turn back to you. She used her free hand to grab yours, pulling you both inside with her.

“Your mother told me you were moving to Seoul for the summer. I was wondering when you’d stop by,” His mother told you. “It makes my heart so happy to see you two together again!”

The sound of the pitter-patter of tiny paws soon met your ears and you looked up just in time to see a white ball of fluff running toward you. “Rap-monnie,” you cooed, squatting down to pet him.

Namjoon followed after you and you laughed as his dog happily barked, running back and forth between you two, not sure on who to greet first.

“Oh!” Namjoon’s mother uttered suddenly, sparing you two a glance. She cupped her face in her hands in distress. “I wasn’t expecting you two so I don’t have a proper dinner prepared.”

“It’s okay--” Both you and Namjoon began in unison.

“No!” His mother cut you both off, pointing a finger in your direction. “I must go to the store. I’m going to make your favorite, y/n!”

There was no stopping Namjoon’s mother once she had made up her mind. She refused for you and Namjoon to come along, claiming that someone had to watch the dog since Namjoon’s father and sister had left the house earlier, despite Rapmon being well-trained.

You and Namjoon resorted to lounging in the living room. The TV was on but neither of you were paying attention to it. Rapmon was in his cute little bed, chewing away at a squeaky toy. If he wasn’t so adorable, you would’ve chucked the toy somewhere far out of his reach since the squeaking was beginning to drive you insane.

Namjoon was on his phone--scrolling through his secret BTS fan account on twitter, no doubt--his legs dangling off the couch since it was too small for his tall frame. You pushed his legs aside, causing him to glare at you. There was an empty recliner right next to the couch but in your defense, it didn’t look as comfortable as the couch.

You stuck your tongue out at him as you made yourself comfortable next to him. He noticed the photo album in your arms and sat up in sudden interest, taking the album away from you as he opened it himself. “Is this from the year we learned how to roller skate?”

“And also the year our mothers thought it was a cool idea to deck us out in Mickey and Minnie mouse merch.”

Namjoon chuckled, staring down at all the pictures of him and you as a child with such fondness. Your mothers had met when they were in their third trimester of pregnancy and bonded instantly. Friendship at first sight, they said. They could only hope the same for you two and sure enough, it was. Namjoon was born first--two weeks earlier than you--but as soon as you were born, the two of you were inseparable.

Albeit, it was because your mothers were inseparable so it really left you two with no choice but to be around each other. It just sounds less cool when explaining it that way. Plus, it’s not like you and Namjoon hated growing up together. Even when you two went to school and had a say in who you hung out with, you chose each other.

Namjoon flicked through the pages. Most of the pictures were from after your toddler years, where you’d often go play at parks. You’d always pick at the wild sunflowers, even though your mother would tell you not to. You soon learned your lesson once you got stung by a bee and much to your dismay, you found a picture of yourself crying and holding out your finger to a concerned Namjoon. (Your mom had the habit of always taking pictures, even if the moments weren’t so pleasant. “It’s for the memories!” she’d always say.)

Sometimes, your parents would take you to the beach and it was there that Namjoon discovered his love for crabs one summer. That was also the summer you stopped eating seafood for a whole year. You had made that decision after making Namjoon cry when you had suggested crab for dinner. You also made a vow to yourself that day, that you’d never make him cry again and you’re proud to say that you’ve done well on that promise.

You leaned forward, resting your head on Namjoon’s shoulder to get a better look at the pictures. He tensed for a brief moment, his breath hitching but quickly covered it up with a chuckle as his eyes landed on a particular picture. It was the year Namjoon got glasses and shortly after, so did you.

“I can’t believe you pretended to be blind just so you could have glasses like me.”

“I wanted to be cool just like you.” You grinned, your eyes scanning over the picture of little Namjoon in his thick lens glasses being smothered into a hug by you, who was also sporting glasses.

“You thought I was cool?” Namjoon couldn’t help but snort. He turned his head to look at you, regretting it when he realized just how close his face was to yours. If you were to turn your head to look up at him, your lips would be only an inch or two apart...

“I thought you were the coolest person ever.” You replied and when you looked up, you confirmed his suspicion. As quickly as his gaze flickered to your lips, he lifted it to meet your eyes instead. “I still think you are.”

At that moment, the front door opened and he couldn’t have been more glad for a distraction, giving him the perfect excuse to distance himself from you in a nonchalant manner. It was his younger sister, Minji, and his father. Minji squealed as soon as she saw Namjoon.

“Joonie!” She exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. When she pulled away, she turned to you with another squeal, throwing her arms around you and causing the both of you to fall backwards onto the couch. “[Y/N]! I missed you.”

“I missed you, too!”

Namjoon’s father also greeted you two with hugs. “Your mother called and said you two were here so on my way back, I stopped by a hotteok stand and bought some.”

Namjoon’s eyes lit up and he happily took the plastic bag containing the goods from his father, giving him a thumbs up. “You’re the best!”

It wasn’t long before Namjoon’s mother came back from the store. You followed her into the kitchen, willing to help out with anything she may need. Namjoon had offered to help as well but Namjoon’s mother thought it best if he stayed out of the kitchen and kept his father company instead. Minji had gone to her room to freshen up, leaving his mother and you alone in the kitchen.

“How is Seoul treating you so far?” Namjoon’s mother asked.

“I like it.” You answered as you helped cut up the vegetables she had bought. “It’s nice to be close to everything again.”

“I hope you do come visit more often now, especially if you ever want a home cooked meal or a quiet place to spend the night.” His mother sincerely offered, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger like your mother!”

“She’s too infatuated with her new beach house and still in the honeymoon stages of her new marriage but she’ll come around soon.” You assured her, knowing your mom was missing her best friend, too.

“And you?” Namjoon’s mother asked, taking the cut up vegetables from you with a grateful smile. “What happened to the boyfriend I met at your graduation? Henri, I think?”

“I don’t know,” you replied with a frown. “Boys are just stupid…”

“Don’t worry, not all boys are stupid.” She said, pulling you into a brief side hug and rubbing your arm. She then shrugged. “Whatever happened between you two, I’m sure it’s his loss. I didn’t like him anyway.”

Your lips curved into a smile and you couldn’t help but laugh at the phrase you’ve heard more than a couple of times from her. “I don’t think you’ve liked any of my boyfriends.”

Namjoon’s mother looked in your direction with a knowing smile and while you continued to chop away at the vegetables, you failed to realize that she had her gaze fixed on something--or rather someone-- behind you.

“And you have yet to wonder why.”

You paused your actions, resting the knife on the cutting board. “Huh?”

“Joon-ah!” Namjoon’s mother exclaimed, beaming at her son and choosing to ignore your confused state. “Help [Y/N] set up the table, will you?”

Namjoon hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He had walked over to the kitchen with the intentions of throwing away the package remains of the hotteok him and his father just finished. But instead, he found himself right outside the kitchen doorway, watching as you and his mother prepared dinner. He couldn’t help but admire the way you two smiled and interacted with one another, a warm feeling settling in his stomach.

He felt his face grow hot at the implication of his mother’s words. Did she--? He rubbed his neck in an awkward manner as you followed his mother’s gaze and turned around to look at him.

After Dinner

(a/n: during dinner, you realized Joon was quiet and deep in thought.)

#bts imagines #bts texts #bts sm au #bts fake texts #bts scenarios #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagines #sunflower au

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gayruthven · 6 years

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history and inspiration for the character lord ruthven + the similarities between him in the vampyre vs. tcsov

read a short story that was published in 1816 in spanish class lmao and i decided to write this post for fun its long as fuck but honestly a interesting read if u want to know more than u need to abt lord ruthven

here is a link to where you can read the vampyre. its really good but really outdated and hard to read soooo theres a pretty detailed summary in this post.

a quick backstory for the creation of the vampyre and the man who was used unwillingly as the inspiration for the original lord ruthven:

in the year 1816 a famous french poet named lord byron (he was considered very edgy for his time and everyone thought he was sexy, dramatic and scandalous lmao) rented a house at lake geneva in switzerland for the summer (he fled england due to his divorce to avoid social fallout- some say he was actually driven from england due to the possibility he would be outed as bisexual, which he was). his personal physician john polidori accompanied him and his lover claire clarement made arrangements to be in switzerland at the same time and bought along her step sister, mary wollstonecraft godwin as well as mary’s lover, percy bysshe shelley.

1816 is famously known as the year without a summer due to a huge volcanic eruption in modern day indonesia that caused a majority of the northern hemisphere to be covered in a thick layer of ash. so despite it being summer, it was very chilly and the sun was dimmed due to the fog to be red and it happened to rain a lot. because of the atmosphere surrounding that summer, lord byron spent a majority of his days reading ghost stories and decided to challenge his companions to each write a horror story of their own.

that summer lord bryon worked on a piece published in his collection fragments of a novel. it featured a dastardly, possibly supernatural nobleman. john polidiri, who had previously written what mary wollenstein godwin described as horrendous was about a woman with a skull head lol, and after reading the fragment polidiri was inspired to write the vampyre. its claimed he kinda completely copied the fragment, i haven’t read it and can’t talk abt it cause this is supposed to be abt lord ruthven lmao. he decided to model the devilishly attractive lord ruthven after lord byron himself (which sucked for lord byron cause that really wasn’t good for his public image). the two of them had a thing- this woman macdonald once described polidiris jealous outbursts and tantrums over lord byron. it was sorta like a angry ex demonizing their past partner lol.

before i move onto the differences and similarities between the two lord ruthvens here is a summary of the vampyre:

the story the vampyre tells the tale of a attractive young man named aubrey. both lord ruthven and aubrey appear as newcomers in high class parties in london around the same time. everyone, including aubrey, find themselves oddly fascinated with lord ruthven due to the intensity of his stare, his wicked handsomeness and his strange paleness. after becoming entranced with lord ruthven, aubrey is invited to accompany on his trip throughout europe. already being expected to travel in order to truly be considered to have reached adulthood, aubrey jumps at the opportunity.

as they travel together aubrey starts to notice some REALLY WEIRD shit about lord ruthven. the guy loves to gamble and gives his money away to the people very often, but only people who use the money for their vices who don’t really need it. lord ruthven tries to seduce a young italian girl, but aubrey ruins that for him and decides it would be wise to distance himself from lord ruthven and travels to greece alone.

once in greece aubrey falls in love with a woman. or, well, he likes the fact she doesn’t love him and that it would be absolutely ridiculous for him to ever want to marry him. basically he finds comfort in his attraction to her cause it means he DOESN’T REALLY like lord ruthven lol. she tells him stories about vampyres living the woods by athens, which aubrey thinks is absolutely ridiculous.

after failing to make it to town after tending to something important, he gets caught in the woods after nightfall and has a encounter with a vampyre who kills the woman he was in “love” with and after a close encounter with the vampyre, he is saved by the towns people appearing flares.

aubrey is bedridden after this incident and loses his mind a bit. he curses ruthven quite a bit in a crazed daze, yet comes to his senses one day only to realize he was being nursed to health by no other than lord ruthven himself. aubrey accepts ruthvens kindness and they decide to put their past agreements behind them and travel together again.

lord ruthven gets murdered in a run in with some bandits. upon his death bed, aubrey is forced to swear he won’t tell anyone anything negative about lord ruthven for a year and a day after his passing.

when he returns to england, it’s around the time when aubreys younger sister is finally about to enter society. she is very excited that aubrey will accompany her. but after attending his first party upon his return, he is pulled aside by someone who whispers for him to ‘remember his oath.’ its lord ruthven and that fucks aubrey up.

he loses his mind a bit, which delights lord ruthven, and stays locked in his room mostly. he receives news one day that his sister is getting married and hes absolutely delighted! however, when he opens the heart locket she keeps around her neck he discovered the photo of the person inside of it is none other than lord ruthven.

aubrey tries to get them to cancel the marriage. he fails, dies, and then his sister is killed by lord ruthven on the night of their wedding and he mysteriously disappears.

its a very gay coded story that is REALLY GOOD so heres a link abt that

FINALLY the parallels between the two lord ruthvens relevant in tcsov:

lord ruthven in tcsov is obviously inspired by the one featured in the vampyre. two easy similarities is their lack of one eye and the fact their both highly regarded noblemen. their charisma is strongly attributed to their supernatural powers.

in each piece of media, a young man becomes fascinated with them. while it isn’t as present in tcsov, it’s obvious lord ruthven is attempting to groom noe. which i believe is even relevant in their first encounter, despite ruthven not necessarily being aware of noes importance yet. lord ruthven holds noe against his chest when he melts the ice, forcing them to be in a position one would describe as affectionate closeness.

similar to how aubrey is described as lord ruthvens curiosity, i believe the same applies to lord ruthven and noe. lord ruthven in tcsov’s acts of kindness towards noe remind me greatly of when lord ruthven tended to aubrey when he was bedridden. while i do believe lord ruthven in the tcsov does indeed feel some sort of affection for noe, its pretty obvious their acts of manipulation.

him renting out the entire restaurant he brought noe to forces them to be isolated. he claims it was his favorite and says the reason why he rented out the establishment was because he wanted to have a leisurely talk with noe. this is supposed to make noe feel like hes receiving special treatment, similar to the way lord ruthven in the vampyre lures aubrey into a similar situation when he invites him to travel alone with him.

the way he talks to other people in the series only furthers this point. while speaking to veronika or vanitas, he is incredibly apathetic and when he does smile its devoid of emotion. lord ruthven in the vampyre is described with these characteristics, as a cold, withdrawn man with a dead stare. this is contradicted only by his change of attitude when tending to aubrey. both noe and aubrey are lured into a false sense of safety.

another striking similarity is the fact they both put someone under an oath. while aubrey was manipulated emotionally by lord ruthven in the vampyre to swear he wouldn’t reveal anything that would harm lord ruthvens reputation, we’re all aware of that fun little scene from chapter 19 lol.

this oath ultimately drives aubrey insane that due to it hes unable to save his sister or anyone else who would ultimately become a victim of lord ruthven. while we havent witnessed what lord ruthven in tcsov forces noe to do yet, its easy to infer it will have similar results to noes mental health. perhaps as a result he’ll be forced to witness the death of someone he cares deeply about and blames himself for not being able to save them much like aubrey and his sister??

#the case study of vanitas #vanitas no carte #vanitas no shuki #vnc #lord ruthven #i spent a long time on this shit and its all rambling

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edgewaterfarmcsa · 4 years

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CSA WEEK 8

p i c k l i s t

Tomatoes - Carmen Sweet Pepper (big) - Shishito Peppers (little) - Summer Squash -

Golden Zucchini - Mint - Basil - Corn - Cabbage - Blueberries - Eggplant

Great news! No deaths today while picking mint during the supposed tornado. That said, there was a lot of talk around death while picking herbs and how our tombstones might read. Here lies Jenny and Roy* (yup, you read it right, not Ray), who just needed 8 more bunches for CSA. Once we picked those last 8 bunches we put the truck in 4 wheel drive and headed to the pack-shed to seek salvation from the storm. There we were met by the entire field crew. When thunder or lightning, tornado or hurricane make their way to Edgewater Farm we (field crew) consistently pray for movie day and almost always are met with so many tasks around the packshed. Luckily it was CSA eve, and everyone was there to pitch in on the final squash count, box stack, and pinting of shishitos.

But the big news today is your basil bunch. Each basil bunch was picked from a greenhouse that by the time you are reading this, the greenhouse will be stripped of any remaining basil. The beds will be tilled, and the soil amended as we get ready for the Fall CSA planting. More News on Fall CSA later, but get stoked. That said, these basil bunches could potentially be the ugliest basil bunches you’ve ever seen- as a grower, it is too hard to waste a whole house of basil because stalks are too woody and it's already been harvested through twice. However, like last week’s hakurai turnips (was that last week?) the flavor of the basil is perfect and will take your tomatoes to a whole new level of SummerTime eating.

And lastly, two weeks of cabbage in a row? You betcha! Now you have 0 excuse to not sauerkraut, ferment and get that good gut microbiome.

ROY* an Edgewater 19 year field crew veteran and one of my best friends. He comes up from Jamaica in May and stays through the end of harvest season. Leaves before all of our fingers frost in November. He is always down for a good joke, a helping hand, coffee, and donuts. Lately we’ve shared the mantra, if you go, I go. (This is clearly a joke as both he and I have practically signed on to Edgewater Farm forever and ever, Amen).

TIPS - TRICKS - RECIPES:

Tomato and Corn Pie (smittenkitchen)

JENNY’S NOTE: PLEASE know that i cursed this recipe the WHOLE time. Especially when i came to the part about blanching tomatoes in which i declared, “this is too much work i will never ever make this again.” But then it was served to my picky 4 yearold eater who said, “yum mama, did you make this? Can we have it again tomorrow night?” WHAT THE HELL. So now, it will be in heavy rotation as our Sunday night go to while the tomatoes are at their peak, the basil abundant, and the corn sweet as sugar.

Now back to the recipe: A few notes: First, butter-brushed biscuit-crusted savory pie, where have you been my whole life? I’ve been living on the wrong side of the Mason-Dixon line, clearly. Second, this recipe works exactly as-is, save one irksome issue: our pie was a puddle when we cut into it. I simply poured off the crust-sogging liquid, but I’d advise you to instead seed and juice your tomatoes if you bear it (I hate tossing the most flavorful parts, personally) or risk a mushy base. Third, this pie includes the curious instruction to peeling your tomatoes, which I first dismissed as an annoying extra step but in the end felt that it was absolutely brilliant. No chewy separating tomato skins! Just pure, instense peak-season tomato goodness. Consider me converted.

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 3/4 teaspoons salt, divided

3/4 stick (6 tablespoons or 3 ounces) cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes, plus 2 teaspoons melted

3/4 cup whole milk

1/3 cup mayonnaise

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 3/4 pounds beefsteak tomatoes

1 1/2 cups corn (from about 3 ears), coarsely chopped by hand (my preference) or lightly puréed in a food processor, divided

2 tablespoons finely chopped basil, divided (skipped this, no harm was done)

1 tablespoon finely chopped chives, divided

1/4 teaspoon black pepper, divided

7ounces coarsely grated sharp Cheddar (1 3/4 cups), divided

Whisk together flour, baking powder, and 3/4 tsp salt in a bowl, then blend in cold butter (3/4 stick) with your fingertips or a pastry blender until it resembles coarse meal. Add milk, stirring until mixture just forms a dough, then gather into a ball.

Divide dough in half and roll out one piece on a well-floured counter (my choice) or between two sheets of plastic wrap (the recipe’s suggestion, but I imagined it would annoyingly stick to the plastic) into a 12-inch round (1/8 inch thick). Either fold the round gently in quarters, lift it into a 9-inch pie plate and gently unfold and center it or, if you’re using the plastic warp method, remove top sheet of plastic wrap, then lift dough using bottom sheet of plastic wrap and invert into pie plate. Pat the dough in with your fingers trim any overhang.

Preheat oven to 400°F with rack in middle. If your kitchen is excessively warm, as ours is, go ahead and put the second half of the dough in the fridge until you’re ready to use it. Whisk together mayonnaise and lemon juice.

Cut an X in bottom of each tomato and blanch in a large pot of boiling water 10 seconds. Immediately transfer with a slotted spoon to an ice bath to cool. Peel tomatoes, then slice crosswise 1/4 inch thick and, if desired (see Notes above recipe), gently remove seeds and extra juices. Arrange half of tomatoes in crust, overlapping, and sprinkle with half of corn, one tablespoon basil, 1/2 tablespoon chives, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/8 teaspoon pepper and one cup of grated cheese. Repeat layering with remaining tomatoes, corn, basil, chives, salt, and pepper. Pour lemon mayonnaise over filling and sprinkle with remaining cheese.

Roll out remaining piece of dough into a 12-inch round in same manner, then fit over filling, folding overhang under edge of bottom crust and pinching edge to seal. Cut 4 steam vents in top crust and brush crust with melted butter (2 teaspoons). Bake pie until crust is golden and filling is bubbling, 30 to 35 minutes, then cool on a rack. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Do ahead: Pie can be baked 1 day ahead and chilled. Reheat in a 350°F oven until warm, about 30 minutes

SHISHITO PEPPERS: These peppers are soooo good when pan fried/grilled with a little olive oil and salt. Pull from the pan once blistered, consume immediately- never look back, your life is forever changed, this is your new favorite pepper, you’re welcome.

This eggplant is magical. Not greasy (even though you fry in oil) crunchy, crispy and insanely addictive.

The trick is to slice it thick-ish and salt it generously. Let it sit out releasing puddles of water. Pat dry aggressively, cover in corn starch aggressively and then fry in hot oil until it comes out golden and dark brown in some places (you want to make sure the eggplant meat inside is cooked, custardy and sweet). I have topped the eggplant with garlicky tahini, amba (mango pickle sauce), fresh parsley and sea salt but you can really do whatever you want here.

1 large eggplant or 2 medium eggplants

kosher salt

1 cup cornstarch

4 cups canola oil or any oil with no flavor

sea salt to finish

serve with garlicky tahini (recipe below), amba, fresh parsley, fresh lemon, parsley, honey

Directions- Slice the eggplant in 1/2 inch thick pieces. You have the option of keeping the skin on or removing the skin. I keep it on, because I don’t like to waste it but if you remove the skin, it will get even crispier. Place the eggplant slices on a sheet tray and generously salt the eggplant. Let it sit out at room temp for at least 1 hour. Puddles of liquid will come out of the eggplant. Before frying, take a kitchen towel and pat down the eggplant well, drying them off as much as possible. Slice in half on a diagonal (I think they are too big to fit in a sandwich or a pita this way so I like to slice them in half) Place the cornstarch in a bowl and toss each piece in the cornstarch well. Shake off excess and place on a dry sheet tray. Heat up the oil in a deep pot. If you don’t have a thermometer (which I don’t) heat on high and sprinkle a little cornstarch in the oil. If it sizzles it should be ready. Turn the heat to medium high it should be around 350 degrees f and add in the first piece. I like to fry one at a time so that the oil temp stays up (if you overcrowd the oil the temp will come down and the eggplant wont fry they will soak)

Flip the eggplant over once the bottom is golden and brown in some places around 1-2 minutes. When the other side is golden another 1-2 minutes remove from the oil and place on a paper towel to let dry. Immediately season well with sea salt.

Serve this eggplant on its own, on sandwiches, in pitas…you can do a lot with it.

For my crispy eggplant fries, I peeled the eggplant and sliced them into 1/2 inch thick pieces. Salted them and let them sit out for an hour, pat dry and then sliced them into strips (keep them thicker so that there is enough eggplant inside to get creamy, while it’s frying). Toss the strips in the cornstarch and 1 handful at a time fry in the oil until golden. Let it fry for 3 minutes until they are golden and lightly browned (make sure they get to that golden light brown color, you want the meat inside to cook). Remove from the oil and place on paper towel. Season well with salt and serve with yummy condiments like garlicky tahini, amba, silan, honey….etc.

Garlicky tahini–

1/2 cup tahini paste

2 tsp fresh lemon juice

1 small garlic clove, finely grated

large pinch kosher salt- or to taste

3 tablespoons cup ice water

Directions- Place everything in a bowl and mix. The tahini will get thick and pasty but keep mixing. Add more water to loosen, if needed.

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