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#not your typical boring question
bees-with-swords · 1 year
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Sorry we can't diagnose you with autism. On the survey you marked no to being "HASHTAG NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS" and that's our only criteria. What do you mean it's a bad test.
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talkdutchtome · 26 days
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"Let me take care of you" - Max Verstappen
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pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )
genre . . . smut )
summary . . . after a disastrous race, you take care of max the best way you know how )
warning . . . smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple play, use of petnames, sub!max, very soft dom!reader, traumatized maxie, not proofread )
word count . . . 2800 words )
a/n . . . this actually ended up a lot more emotional than i intended it to be but i hope everyone likes it anyway. i don't know if my smut writing is getting better or worse tbh. any and all feedback is always appricated <3 )
Max was a perfectionist; anyone could see that. He also had a desire to win like nobody else. He never let up. It didn’t matter to him if it was a title deciding race or a completely meaningless one, he needed to win. It had been instilled in him for as long as he could remember; second place is first loser after all. So naturally, when his brakes failed, and his car very literally caught fire in the Australian Grand Prix causing him to have to retire three laps into the race; you knew he was not going to take it well.  
You were watching along in the garage, and the only thing you could think about as his smoking car pulled up to the pits was how hard on himself he was going to be. The fact that it was through no fault of his own was irrelevant. He had just handed a win to Ferrari, and that made his blood boil.  
In typical Max fashion, you barely saw him after he retired too. He gave you a quick hug as he reached the garage but after that it was straight back to business. He made his way to the pit wall and immediately began discussing with Christian and GP what exactly happened and how do they fix it for Japan. He sent you a text that he was going to stay late at the track with the mechanics so that you should just head back to the hotel.  
Truthfully, Max was avoiding you. You had only been dating Max for a couple of months, and so far you had only seen him dominate on track. And whilst you were concerned that that he would be beating himself up for disappointing himself or the team, he was busy focusing on how he had disappointed you. You had taken time out of your busy university schedule to travel to the other side of the world to see him race, and he had to retire three laps in. He was used to people living through him, taking his wins as theirs. He had never considered that all you cared about that he was safe and didn’t get hurt.  
So, you went to the hotel and waited for him; or at least you tried to. Tiredness and jet lag eventually started to catch up to you, and you had just started to drift off to sleep when you heard the door open. Looking up greet Max, you could see immediately how heavy the weight he bore on his shoulders hung.  
“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” You asked him sleep in your voice still evident. Max just hung his head and walked into the bathroom. He half expected you to berate him. To question him on exactly what went wrong and what he’s going to do to fix it.  
“Maxie?” You asked again, as he came in from the bathroom and made his way to his side of the bed, his eyes routed to the floor. This time he just grunted at you in response before getting into bed and turning away from you. He did not have the energy to be told everything he did wrong and why - he had already had that from his dad.  
“Please talk to me Maxie, I’m worried.” You pleaded at him, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around him. You wanted that more than anything, but you sensed that he maybe didn’t feel the same.  
“What do you want Y/N?” He finally spoke, his voice cracking.  
“Are you okay? I know that was tough result to take but it’s only once race. We both know you’ll be back better than ever for the next one.”  
To your words, Max just grunted again. And this time you couldn’t help but reach over to hold him. Wrapping one of your arms around his waist and the other coming up to brush through his hair. You waited cautiously for him to pull away. A moment passed and he began to move, your heart sank; he clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near you right now. But instead of moving away, he just turned around, bringing himself closer to you, resting his head on your chest.  
“I just hate to let the team down” he spoke, his voice no more than a whisper, like he wasn’t 100% convinced if he should be saying anything.  
“But baby you didn’t let them down, you did nothing wrong. There was an issue with the car that isn’t your fault.” You gazed down at his face, your hands smoothing through his hair.  
“I could have done something. Maybe I pushed the brakes too much. Maybe I went too hard. All I know is that I let the team down. I let my dad down. I let you down. You cam-“ He started to ramble, but you had heard enough.   
“Whoa Max baby slow down. I can’t speak for the team or your dad, but you certainly did not let me down. All that matters to me is that you didn’t get hurt. I was so worried; you were literally driving a car that was on fire. You could have been hurt.”  
As the words left your mouth, he looked up at you. Almost as if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. When his eyes met yours and he realized you were being sincere, he hugged tighter into you.  
“I love you Y/N” he spoke and before you could say anything, you felt him bring his mouth to your neck. Leaving hot open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone up to until he met your mouth. His lips crashed against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. His hands found your hair and his teeth nipped at your lips. He quickly found himself getting lost in you and you weren’t too far behind. But when his hands wandered towards the bottom of your pajama top, you had to pull away.  
“Wait, Maxie. Are you sure you want to do this? You’ve had a rough day, are you sure you want to do this. We could just go to sleep if you’d prefer.” You didn’t want him to feel like this was something he needed to do.  
But when his lips once again found your neck, it was clear you had your answer. “Please” he mumbled against your skin “I just want to forget” between each word he left a kiss on your neck, before beginning to nibble against that one spot on your neck that he knew always sent you completely insane. He left deep purple marks all down your neck and you couldn’t help but let a moan slip through your lips.  
You were about to completely cave into his touch before you had an idea, and before you could overthink whether it was a good idea, you swung your legs over him until you had him pinned underneath you, your legs either side of his. A smirk plastered across your face 
Max looked completely taken aback at your action, but the second you leant down to kiss him, your lips just slightly brushing against his; he was starstruck and could feel himself growing harder by the second, which only deepened your smirk.  
“Let me take care of you baby” you whispered in his ear before beginning to grind your core against him. The whimper that left Max’s lips took you both by surprise but, taking that as confirmation that he wanted you to take control; you attached your lips to his neck, trailing kisses down his chest until you reached the waistband of his underwear. It was clear from the way that his hard dick strained against the cloth that Max was enjoying this new side of you, and you could be lying if you said it didn’t give you a bit of a confidence boost. 
You started to tease him, placing warm kisses over his underwear, but when you hear him try and fail to beg you to touch him, it becomes clear that maybe today isn’t the day to tease him. So, you hook your fingers around his waistband and release him from the tight confines of the cloth. Immediately, your mouth found his cock, your lips wrapping around his tip. Max’s moans filled the air as he came apart like putty in your hands. The way that your tongue swirled around him made him go crazy. He reached out his hands to grab your hair in a makeshift pony, but you dodged him. Max honestly thought he was going to cry when you took your mouth off him. 
“No baby, I told you I was going to take care of you, you just sit back and let me do everything” you told him before quickly placing a kiss on his lips before reattaching your mouth to Max’s throbbing dick and bringing your hand to the part of it that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Max felt lightheaded; it’s not like you hadn’t given him a blowjob before, but never like this. He couldn’t ever remember being this turned on before. He had never even considered letting you take control, letting you take care of him so intently before; but now that he was experiencing it – he kicked himself for waiting so long. 
The sounds coming from your boyfriend were music to your ears and only encouraged you to make him feel better and better. You could feel yourself getting wetter, completely desperate to feel him inside of you; but today was about Max, you’d happily wait longer for your own pleasure to take care of him. You began taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, earning more moans from Max. You had never heard him be so vocal before. Things got even better for him when you hallowed your cheeks and brought your hand up to his balls, massaging them in your hands as you worked his dick in your mouth.   When his tip hit the very back of your throat and you gagged around him, he was so loud you were just slightly concerned that whoever was in the room next door would be up for a rude awakening.  
“Oh, fuck baby, oh my god. I’m so close” Max just about managed to get out between moans, promoting you to once again let go of his dick. For a second Max looked at you with puppy dog eyes, silently begging you to take him back in your mouth. But as soon as you stood up and very slowly pulled your pajama shorts down, he realized that there were better things to come.  
“Do you want me to ride you, Maxie?” you asked him breathlessly earning another groan from the man lying on the bed. 
“Fuck, yes. Please please ride me I need to be inside of you more than anything” Max’s voice was weak; it was becoming all too much for him. And when you finally rid yourself of your pajama top, Max started to see stars. Your tits were his weakness, and you knew that all too well. All he wanted was to take them in his mouth, to suck and bite on your nipples. So, when you straddled him once again, that's exactly what he did. You thought about stopping him again, reminding him that tonight was about him and his pleasure; but when you caught sight of his eyes – usually so bright and sparkling. Now they were so dark, so filled with lust and desperation, you didn’t have the heart to deprive him of one of his favorite things to do.  
You leant down to kiss him again, and the taste of his own precum on your tongue made him groan feverishly against your lips. Unable to wait anymore, you finally lowered yourself onto his dick. Now it was your turn to let out a string of moans and profanity. The way that he stretched you out was a feeling that you could never grow old of. After a beat to get used to having him inside of you, you began to bounce on top of him, pumping his dick in and out of your tight desperate pussy.  
“Oh my god Maxie you feel so good, your huge dick sends me so crazy” You moan out, completely cock drunk. “You fuck me so good, god nobody makes me feel like you can” Your praise made Max moan louder than ever and then he simply couldn’t help himself anymore; he brought his hands up to your hips and began thrusting hard into you. You wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him to let you take care of him – but when he rammed his cock into g-spot you physically couldn’t ask him to stop doing something that felt so good.  
“I love you so much Y/N baby” Max croaked out, bringing his mouth back to your tits and his hand down to your clit. Him touching you for the first time tonight meant it was now time for you to see stars. His expert hands rubbing against your clit brought you closer and closer to release and you could tell from the way that Max’s thrusts became deeper and harder that he wasn’t far behind you. 
Wanting to finish what you had started; you placed your hands on his chest – signaling him to stop for a second. Max did so very reluctantly, but when you started to bounce on his dick again his eyes rolled back into his head. After each bounce you grinded yourself down on him, desperate to get him as deep as you possibly could. Your climax was getting closer and closer and soon you felt like you were ready to burst. 
“I’m going to cum on your dick okay baby? You just make me feel so good I can’t help myself.” you told the man beneath you breathlessly, prompting Max to resume rubbing circles into your clit. 
“Please do. Please cum all over my cock I need that so much” Max croaked out and with that you fell over the edge. A wave of pleasure washed over you and you screamed out for Max. It felt so good you thought you were going to pass out, completely taken over by the pleasure that Max’s hard dick had given you. For a few moments, you simply had to still yourself to let yourself recover. 
Once you had ridden out the last of your orgasm, you were ready to go again; ready to make Max feel as good as you possibly could. You began grinding down onto him, squeezing yourself against him. After feeling you cumming all over him, Max knew he wouldn’t need long before he was right behind you.  
“Fuck Y/N I’m really close, get off and I’ll finish in your mouth” Max just about got out between moans. When you didn’t get off and instead began bouncing faster and harder, Max really thought he might just die.  
“Cum inside of me Maxie please, I need your cum fucked so deep inside me”  
“Fuck really?” 
“Yeah, i need it so bad.” 
“Oh my god Y/N, you’ll be the fucking death of me” 
The second those words left his mouth, he fell apart. A string of profanity left his lips, and you could feel his dick pulse inside of you as he painted the insides of you white with his cum. Max couldn’t believe how good it felt, sex with you was always great but that was on another level, he couldn’t remember ever feeling that good before. 
“I love you so much Y/N” 
He gently slipped himself out of you and you collapsed next to him on the bed. Exhausted wasn’t the word for how tired you felt after that. And apparently that was true for Max as well as in the time that it took you to waddle to the toilet to clean yourself up, he had managed to fall asleep. You couldn’t blame him of course; even before that it had been a very long tiering day for him. So, as quietly as you could, you got ready for bed and slipped yourself into bed next to him.  
Looking at the very peaceful sleeping man next to you, you couldn’t help but snuggle down close to him. Placing a kiss on his temple before assuming the big spoon position that you know he loves so much from you. Your movement causing him to ever so slightly stir awake. 
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me” he spoke so softly you almost missed it before falling right back into a very peaceful sleep. You couldn’t help but feel so lucky to have a man like him cuddled close to you. 
“Sleep well Maxie, I love you more than anything.” 
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ezukll · 2 months
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✮⋆ 𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗨𝗦 𝗢𝗕𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 🦋
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⠀⠀⠀⠀ ♈︎ 𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗨𝗦
Aries Venus is a very passionate placement, as Aries is the sign of passion and action, while Venus is associated with love, beauty, and relationship. Someone with this placement likely has a very fiery and intense approach to romance and relationships. They are likely to be very passionate and enthusiastic about their partner, and they may have a strong desire to make their relationship exciting and fresh. They may also be very willing to take the lead and to be the one to initiate and take action.
⠀⠀⠀🦋 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧
⋆ Be spontaneous and adventurous.
⋆ Make an effort to keep the relationship interesting.
⋆ Take the lead and initiate adventures.
๋⋆ Show off your passionate side.
⋆ Express your desires and emotions clearly.
⋆ Be willing to take risks for love.
⋆ Show off your confidence and self-esteem.
⋆ Be willing to take the first step in a relationship.
⠀⠀⠀⠀♉︎ 𝗧𝗔𝗨𝗥𝗨𝗦 𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗨𝗦
Venus in Taurus is known for its strong sense of security, stability, and comfort. People with their Venus in Taurus typically enjoy taking time to appreciate the finer things in life and may find joy in material possessions and pleasures. They are often described as "old-fashioned" in their approach to relationships and values. They may seek commitment and stability in their romantic relationships and prefer a more traditional set of values when it comes to romance.
⠀⠀⠀🦋 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧
⋆ Show your interest and affection through small actions and words.
⋆ Give the Taurus Venus attention and allow them to feel heard by asking open-ended questions and focusing on them.
⋆ Be patient, consistent, and respectful in your actions towards them.
⋆ Make time for them and demonstrate that you are willing to put in effort.
⋆ Be honest and communicate your feelings and thoughts clearly and respectfully.
⠀⠀⠀⠀♊︎ 𝗚𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜 𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗨𝗦
Gemini Venus is known for being a playful, lighthearted, and mischievous placement that adds a spark of fun and excitement to a person's romantic relationships. People with this placement seek out romantic interests who can match their energy and keep up with their witty banter. They may have a tendency to get bored in relationships and love to flirt, so someone who can keep them engaged and entertained is key to winning their affection. However, despite their flirtatious nature, they still enjoy a strong connection and are seeking a partner who they can have deep conversations with as well.
⠀⠀⠀🦋 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧
⋆ Be yourself and show your unique personality.
⋆ Make them laugh and keep the conversation light and fun.
⋆ Be spontaneous and try new things together.
⋆ Give them space to express themself and let them know they can trust you.
⋆ Don't take their flirtatious nature too seriously... they may just be having fun.
If you are able to capture their attention with your unique personality and keep them engaged, you may have a chance with someone with a Gemini Venus.
⠀⠀⠀⠀♋︎ 𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗥 𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗨𝗦
Cancer Venus is known for being emotionally expressive, caring, and sensitive in relationships. People with their Venus in Cancer can be very nurturing and tend to wear their heart on their sleeve. They may crave affection and emotional security, so someone who is understanding and supportive can go a long way in gaining their affection. On the other hand, people with this placement may also struggle with being possessive and overly sensitive towards their partner's actions or words. Ultimately, communication and empathy is key in forming a strong connection with someone who has their Venus in Cancer.
⠀⠀⠀🦋 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧
⋆ Show compassion and empathy towards their feelings.
⋆ Be understanding and emotionally supportive.
⋆ Create an environment where they can express themselves freely and feel safe.
⋆ Be nurturing and give the comfort they seek.
⋆ Build a strong connection with them through open communication.
⋆ Make them feel loved and appreciated.
⋆ Be genuine and honest with them.
⠀⠀⠀⠀ ♌︎ 𝗟𝗘𝗢 𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗨𝗦
Leo Venus is described as a passionate, creative, confident, and dramatic placement. People with a Venus in Leo seek out romantic partners who are self-assured and can bring out their artistic side. They may crave a strong physical connection and are often drawn to confident, charismatic partners who can keep up with their fiery personality. They also appreciate the finer things in life and may enjoy luxury or extravagant gestures. However, their passionate nature can also lead to being possessive or jealous in relationships, so communication and trust is key.
⠀⠀⠀🦋 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧
⋆ Display your confidence and take the lead.
⋆ Show your artistic side through creative dates or gestures.
⋆ Be fun and daring, and don't be afraid to take risks in your romantic interactions.
⋆ Be honest and complimentary, and make sure they feel admired and appreciated.
⋆ Be willing to receive their lavish gestures of affection and don't be afraid to show off a little.
⠀⠀⠀⠀ ♍︎ 𝗩𝗜𝗥𝗚𝗢 𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗨𝗦
A Virgo Venus is described as analytical, detail-oriented, and practical in relationships. They may be a bit reserved and prefer to take things slowly and be mindful in their romantic interactions. They tend to value efficiency and may be more objective, logical, and nitpicky when it comes to relationships. However, they also appreciate order and structure and desire a partner who can provide that. They may be more selective and picky when it comes to romantic partners, but once they find the right person, they can be loyal, devoted, and caring.
⠀⠀⠀🦋 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧
⋆ Make them feel heard and understood, and be mindful of the details.
⋆ Be honest and logical in your interaction and don't be afraid to communicate directly.
⋆ Be organized and methodical in how you approach the relationship.
⋆ Don't be afraid to ask follow-up questions and show curiosity and interest in them.
⋆ Demonstrate that you can provide stability, order, and structure in a relationship.
⠀⠀⠀⠀ ♎︎ 𝗟𝗜𝗕𝗥𝗔 𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗨𝗦
Libra Venus is characterized by diplomacy, balance, harmony, and fairness. Those with this placement tend to seek out relationships that are equal in nature, with both sides contributing and working together. They may have an idealistic view of relationships, tending to believe in true love and romance. They may seek a partner who is well-rounded, attractive, and charming, and who can engage in deep conversations and understand the value of compromise. They tend to enjoy relationships where everyone can get along and have a peaceful connection.
⠀⠀⠀🦋 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧
⋆ Be diplomatic and show your ability to keep it balanced and fair.
⋆ Be charming, courteous, and considerate towards them.
⋆ Don't be too aggressive or overpowering in your approaches towards them, as this can be a turn-off.
⋆ Show that you are willing to compromise and see things from their point of view.
⋆ Demonstrate emotional maturity and be willing to express your feelings in a respectful manner.
⠀⠀⠀⠀♏︎ 𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗣𝗜𝗢 𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗨𝗦
A Scorpio Venus is characterized by a deep and intense approach to relationships. People with this placement may have emotional walls up, making it challenging for them to open up and be vulnerable. They may have a darker side or be attracted to the hidden depths on others. They may have a strong intuitive nature, seek out deep and meaningful connections, and crave intimacy and trust. They may have high standards and expectations when it comes to relationships and expect their partners to match their intensity and be willing to explore deep levels of trust.
⠀⠀⠀🦋 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧
⋆ Be honest and genuine in your interactions and show them that you can go deep.
⋆ Be open to exploring darker sides and don't shy away from more taboo subjects.
⋆ Show that you can be trustworthy and keep their secrets.
⋆ Demonstrate your passion and commitment and be willing to put in effort.
⋆ Let them know that their emotions are safe with you and make them feel seen and understood.
⠀⠀⠀♐︎ 𝗦𝗔𝗚𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗨𝗦 𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗨𝗦
A Sagittarius Venus is known for having a free-spirited, adventurous, and flexible approach to relationships. People with this placement may have a tendency to avoid commitment and prefer to explore and try new things. They may crave freedom and independence and may have a hard time settling down. However, they can also bring a zest and excitement to relationships and thrive in exciting and stimulating environments. They may prefer casual relationships with a lack of limitations but can still have serious long-standing relationships if their needs are met.
⠀⠀⠀🦋 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧
⋆ Be spontaneous and willing to try new things.
⋆ Show your adventurous and playful side, and be open to exploring and new experiences.
⋆ Don't be too clingy or controlling, as they prefer their freedom and can be more independent.
⋆ Be honest and upfront in your communication and don't be afraid to be straightforward.
⋆ Demonstrate your sense of humor and have a fun-loving attitude that matches their spirit.
⠀⠀⠀♑︎ 𝗖𝗔𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗡 𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗨𝗦
Capricorn Venus is described as a responsible, practical, and loyal placement, seeking commitment and stability in relationships. People with this placement may be more reserved and may have high standards when it comes to selecting a partner. They may take things slowly and prefer to establish a solid foundation before committing to someone. They may require time to open up and express their emotions, but once they trust someone, they can be loyal and devoted partners who prioritize their relationship.
⠀⠀⠀🦋 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧
⋆ Be reliable, responsible, and trustworthy.
⋆ Demonstrate your ability to be practical and realistic in your interactions.
⋆ Respect their need for space and alone time.
⋆ Be open to committing and showing loyalty.
⋆ Show that you can take the relationship seriously and want something long-lasting and stable.
⠀⠀⠀⠀♒︎ 𝗔𝗤𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗨𝗦 𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗨𝗦
Aquarius Venus is characterized by a unique and innovative approach to relationships. They may prefer unconventional partners and seek out connections that are dynamic and stimulating. They may not fit into traditional relationship structures or dynamics and may be attracted to more progressive thinking and ideas. They may prefer to explore deeper connections and be attracted to someone who can match their independent and unique vibe. Ultimately, they will thrive with someone who is open-minded and can embrace their unorthodox nature.
⠀⠀⠀🦋 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧
⋆ Be open-minded and non-judgmental in your interactions.
⋆ Respect their need for independence and autonomy.
⋆ Allow them to express themself freely and don't try to control or limit them in any way.
⋆ Show your ability to keep up with their innovative and unorthodox nature.
⋆ Be willing to explore their unconventional thinking and ideas.
⠀⠀⠀⠀ ♓︎ 𝗣𝗜𝗦𝗖��𝗦 𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗨𝗦
Pisces Venus is characterized by a sensitive and compassionate approach to relationships. People with this placement may have a tendency to romanticize their relationships and can be very forgiving and accepting of their partners' flaws. They may have a strong connection to their spirituality and have a heightened intuition about others. They may be empathic and perceptive, easily sensing someone's emotions. They may tend to get lost in their feelings and desire deep connections, but they may also get overwhelmed by their emotions or their partners' feelings.
⠀⠀⠀🦋 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧
⋆ Be compassionate and empathetic in your interactions.
⋆ Recognize their sensitivity and allow them to express their feelings freely without judgment.
⋆ Show that you can be reliable and trustworthy, and respect their need for depth and a sense of spiritual connection.
⋆ Be patient, understanding, and open-minded when it comes to their emotions.
⋆ Be a good listener and let them know that you understand and accept them for who they are.
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4izawas · 4 months
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╰─▸ ❝ 𝐇𝐄’𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 ( 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄 ). ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀.
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: His eyes are hooded, dark with a venomous lust that used to frighten you — but you aren’t the shy lamb sent to slaughter that you once were, are you?
𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: jujutsu kaisen | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ryomen sukuna/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 3.49k.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: concubine reader, demon king sukuna, sacrificial lamb x vicious monster trope, fem reader, manipulative reader, canon-typical violence, background character death, reader got a death grip on sukuna w the pussy ngl, breeding kink, fingering, sukuna has two cocks bc duh?, throne sex, cowgirl, no condoms, double penetration, accidental voyeurism, minor exhibitionism, creampies, biting, kissing, pregnancy mentions, murder, blood, gore, didn’t think i’d have to say this verbatim ( but after wasted summer ig i must ) but reader isn’t a good person.
𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: he is so so mean and yet … here i am wanting his balls in my mouth 😔✊
— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!
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The stone flooring is cold against your bare feet, icy and sharp in ways that you used to be able to say you were unused to — but after a handful of years as your lord’s most desired concubine, you’d grown more than used to the endless chill of stone against your soles. 
Only a few short years ago you’d been sent into the mountains to the dusky temple of the demon lord Ryomen Sukuna, a toy for him to fuck then eventually rip apart as soon as he grew bored of you. Bound by the wrists with ropes that had scarred, you were dragged up the mountainside and thrown upon a vast stone table, bound yet again with your hands tugged over your head and your legs spread to opposing corners. Your inner thighs had each been granted one deep slash so blood would begin to flow, and then you had been abandoned there. Alone and in tears, night had fallen faster than you’d been found, and you’d almost felt frozen and delirious when the first shadows of a monstrous figure had caught your eyes. 
He had been a terrifying monster, sporting a vast mouth on his abdomen, two sets of eyes, four arms, and two pairs of legs all connected to a towering frame — all things normally singular about the human form had been doubled, and the owner of such a body had slunk over to you all while salivating. At first you’d feared he’d molest you, then you feared being devoured — but he’d mocked you cruelly and cut you loose before dragging you along behind him by the rope binding your wrists with your slit thighs screaming, your journey ending with him casting you at a half dozen women you later learned to be his concubines, and you’d not left his great stone temple in the mountains ever since. On the contrary, your life had become much easier — you led a life of luxury nestled comfortably on your knees atop a plush pillow next to your lord’s hip, you followed wherever he led you to go, and you warmed his bed and his cock whenever he so chose — which was often. 
Today was one such day, and you desired nothing more than to ready yourself to see the man who clung to you as if he were starved and you were a magicked feast. 
“Off to see the King again?” one of the other concubines, Ino, asks snidely as you loosely drape chains of delicate gold over your skin, and you sigh. Ino always started fights whenever she saw the chance, and you were more than tired of it. Still, a verbal spar was nothing for the King to sneeze at, so he wouldn’t make any attempts to stop it; some days he even found the arguments amusing. 
“Must I really answer your question?” You ask tiredly. “He has called for me—“
“As he does every day,” another concubine, Shouko, snaps. “He never calls upon us anymore, not like you.”
“I didn’t ask for this,” you snap back, and in response the bane of your existence stomps forward, smelling of the honeysuckle and melons that grew along the mountainside where you all resided. 
“Maybe if you’d not come here and thrown yourself at him like a common whore, we wouldn’t be in this predicament,” Inko, Ino’s elder sister, snarls aggressively. Her eyes are dark and stormy, and her voice low and angry like a startled rattlesnake. “We all had a proper system before you came and ruined everything — but that’s all you know how to do, isn’t it? Traipsing in here practically naked from your first day and swallowing his cock down like it was what you were born for, then even daring to take away my night as well as Komori’s the following day.” Komori was another concubine, one nearly as bitter as Inko; she, however, chose to ruin what few of your belongings she could rather than spar with you verbally.
It was always the same with them — always angry that your lord doted on you more than the others, that he cooed at you so fondly while growls were occasionally sent their way ( growls you’d never received ), and that jewels and silks were lain reverently across your soft skin as rewards for earning his affections. “Maybe he likes me better for a reason, Inko,” you say coldly, standing your ground. “Maybe he isn’t calling upon you anymore because he’s realized how much of a surly bully you are — or maybe he’s grown tired of your once overused loose cunt.”
The sound of a  loud, harsh slap echoes through the room, followed immediately by startled gasps of shock and your face stinging painfully; as much as you all threw poisoned words through the air like arrows were loosed from an archer’s bow, none of you had ever dared lay a hand on one another. 
Your face burns, both from the pain from the hard slap and from a barely repressed anger, as you turn back from where it had been forcibly swung to the side at Inko’s strike to glare at her. 
“You’ll start being a lot happier with your life when you stop basing it around both mine and a man’s,” you hiss before exiting the makeup room and navigating your way through the halls of Lord Sukuna’s temple before finally entering the throne room. He was listening to a few servants of his describe the look of the lands outside the temple, and what they believed the upcoming winter would offer them, but he brushed them away upon realizing you’d entered. 
“Oh, my sweet treasure,” he purred warmly. “Come closer so I can bask in your beauty as I do every day.”
Obedient as always, you do just that, drifting closer before kneeling before him in acknowledgement of his power. Before you do so, you see the look in his eyes, and it sends a shot of fire to your stomach that you know all too well; his eyes are hooded, dark with a venomous lust that used to frighten you — but you aren’t the shy lamb sent to slaughter that you once were, are you?
“My lord Ryomen,” you murmur in a voice as thick and sweet as honey while just as deceptive as it would be when a part of a trap for flies. He stands, striding down the short set of stairs that led to his throne for you as he did for no other, and in a gruff voice commands you to stand at your full height. You do as told like always, and it doesn’t take long for him to catch sight of your aching face, which was no doubt starting to bruise.  
He gently grabs you by the jaw, careful that his claws do not prick your soft skin as he tilts your head to reveal your cheek to him. “Your beautiful face…” King Sukuna rumbles lowly, his voice an angered growl as he gently tips you by his grip on your jaw to look at the bruising handprint marring your face, and his eyes are as stormy as the sky outside of the temple as thunder booms amongst the clouds. “Who dared do this to you?”
“Inko,” you murmur quietly, then whine, “She called me a common whore and said I ruin everything. It hurt my feelings.”
“She will be punished,” he promises, cupping your face and kissing your forehead fondly in a show of slight sweetness that you knew he showed no other and strove to keep hidden at all times. Typically his words would comfort you, but not today. You were tired of Inko’s behavior, and a week locked alone in a room with nothing but bread and milk was no longer fitting in your eyes. 
You wanted her dead.  
“Fill me with your seed, my Lord,” you beg sweetly, and he groans while grabbing you borderline painfully tight and grinds your crotches together as you stand together in the throne room, allowing you to feel him at half-hardness. “I want to carry your spawn for you, just like you always say.” It was true; Demon King Ryomen Sukuna was a weak man when it came to his almost wicked thoughts of breeding one of his women’s fertile cunts, but he’d not yet filled any of his concubines’ wombs with life. That privilege, you knew, was to be yours alone — and with how desperately you knew he wanted it, you’d get your prize of Inko’s head on a golden plate and he would get his of the instinctual want for an heir before the week was up. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, standing as high on your tiptoes as you can to do so, and as usual he dips down so you can mouth sweetly at his skin, feeling one pair of arms rest at your hips while the other gently cup your face. “Let me ride you on your throne, my king,” you whisper sweetly, pulling your face from his hold and closing your teeth around one of his earlobes, tugging lightly. You both feel and hear the aroused growl leave his throat, and you move to nip at the base of his throat before asking again. “Please, beloved one?” you beg lightly, pressing a kiss to his jaw as he basks in the attention from your lips and your now wandering hands, which bury themselves in his hair in just the way he likes. “I want you to fill me in the way that only you will ever be able to. I desire the honor of bringing you life.”
You’re being dragged to his throne before you know it, your words plenty enough to tip him over any and all edges he had when it came to you, and he’s taking a seat and tugging you up onto his lap with a practiced ease that you both remembered all too well. He grinds his cock up into the crux of your thighs, his already hard length pressing against the place you were always bare for him beneath your skirts so perfectly. It only takes a moment for him to loose his cock from his robes, and even less time for him to press two of the fingers on one of his other three hands into your wet hole, the appendages curling just so inside so as to toy with you and prepare you for the vast stretch of one ( or even both ) of his cocks. 
“F-Fuck — M’Lord, there-!” You whimper shakily, hips bucking into his touch as he presses one callused thumb to your clit and begins drawing harsh circles on it in time with each curl of his fingers. 
“I know, sweet treasure, I know,” He murmurs softly. “I’ll take care of you — gotta get ya’ all nice and sloppy for me, dear one.”
“No more!” You whine impatiently. “Want you in me!”
His eyes are already dark, but they seem to darken even further at your senseless pleading. “As my foolish girl begs,” he says in mock-sweetness, pulling his fingers from your sopping cunt with a wet shlk! and beginning to use what you’d left on them to wet his cock rather than lick them clean like usual. Your heart ba-bump!s in your chest as a nervous shiver courses through you, but you don’t back down — you’d take his cocks and the resulting child of this coupling as well. 
“Oh gods — yes, please-!” you whimper, feeling the way he drags his cock against your slickened slit, and he chuckles lightly before pressing the fat head in. A stuttery gasp falls from your lips as your head does likewise to his shoulders, and you cling to him desperately as you begin to sink down onto him entirely. In what feels like forever ( but is really only a couple short seconds ) he’s fully sheathed inside of you, and you both still for a moment to soak in the feeling of both filling and being full — and the the Demon King decides the time to adjust is up, and begins fucking up into you. 
You bounce on his lap, moaning brazenly like a woman in a whorehouse, and your nails dig into his skin as he uses you like a toy for his own pleasure. Each drag of his thick cock inside you alights a fire in your belly as it always does, and you keen from your place on his lap as all four of his arms rove your body — two palming at your tits, one rubbing cruel circles on your swollen clit, and the third thrown around your waist. 
“Fuck… Fuck…” he moans, biting at your neck, and you whine needily while grinding down on him, trying your hardest to tempt him into forcing his second cock inside. Unfortunately, you doubted he would, considering he was always so cautious not to break his favorite toy ( you weren’t a fool, there was no love in his heart — there remained no heartstrings for you to tug on, only his sensitive cock. ), but seemingly today was an exception as a hand on one of your tits releases it just so he can grab his second length and press it against your sopping wet hole. The thick ring of cream around the base of the cock he’d already filled you with smears across his second as he urges the tip inside, a short scream falling from your lips as it pops in after a long moment of slightly-pained pressure. 
You’re overfull, tears are rolling down your cheeks, but Lord Sukuna just licks them up and begins using your body like the hole to fuck it is, bluncing you brutally on both of his cocks all while still seated on his massive throne. Behind you, you hear the wide doors to the throne room open, but it isn’t until a scandalized cry fills the room that you turn to look while your lord master continues fucking you without a care in the world for the eyes watching. 
“My Lord-? Oh gods, my apologies! I beg your forgiveness, my king!” The hand that had wandered in wails, falling to his knees in subservience at the realization that he’s just walked in on his lord taking his most favorite concubine in the throne room. The sight of both of his king’s cocks sinking so deeply into your glistening cunt had his own single cock twitching beneath his robes, but there was no way in hell he would ever dare to act on such a thing; the last time someone other than the king himself had touched a concubine with their unworthy hands, both had been torn apart in the King’s rage and fed to the carrion birds. 
“Fuck, you’re nothing but my sweet whore, aren’t you?” Sukuna groans deeply, ignoring the man entirely as you refocus entirely on him and the feelings he was forcing upon you. 
“Y-Yes, my king,” you moan shakily, your eyelashes fluttering as an ever-present knot starts to grow tighter in your lower belly alongside the overfull feeling, fueled by a heat that always burns in his presence.
“Cum on my cocks,” Sukuna orders through a moan. “Give it to me, I command you — I want to feel your cunt pulse around me as you come undone.” As he speaks he speeds up the circles he was drawing on your clit, and within moments you’re falling apart around him, crying out in ecstasy as he lets out a demonic roar and oresses himself as deeply inside as he can before emptying his balls. Faintly you register his eyes rolling back as he cums, but you’re too wrapped up in him to truly give a damn about any of it. 
After a few moments he begins to tug you off of his lengths, the muscles in your body just as instinctually unwilling to give them and their stretch up as you are as a natural resistance shows before being overtaken by you clenching down on him. “No,” you whimper, holding him tight. “Mine.”
“Y’gotta let me go, my precious jewel,” he rumbles quietly, and the urge to actually cry fills you and you just cling tighter. 
“No,” you say again, a fresh wave of tears stinging at your eyes. “Don’t wanna.”
A low groan falls from his lips, but he stops fighting you. You barely react as he lifts you, his inhuman strength making most any show of strength possible ( and making lifting you something easily scoffed at ), and you do likewise as he carries you off to his private chambers. A questioning noise falls from your half-chapped lips as he closes the massive open door of the two closed behind him, and he just shushes you before pulling the silk sheets and thick blankets and furs back before placing you on them. He’s straddling you, still stuck due to your clinging, and it takes a brief moment of wrestling with you before he manages to finally pull out. 
A borderline sickly wet noise fills both his and your ears as his cocks are drawn from your needy cunt, and the rush of thick demon cum that follows makes you whine pathetically. He just clicks his tongue at you and tugs on a rope made of golden chord that would ring a bell in one of the servant’s halls and summoned one such person, ordering them to ready your nightly meal ( despite the sun still being up ) so you could eat then sleep at your own leisure. Once the trembling man is gone, he joins you in bed. 
“I hope you meant your urging for me to grant you a child,” he purrs, biting at your shoulder while you press close to him. He pulls away, sitting up on the side of the bed, “Because there’s no going back now — you will carry my seed in your belly until you birth me a child.”
None of this matters to you. You had always planned to birth his first child, had always known that it was what your fate held for you — this moment was not for talk of a baby, no. You wanted your prize. 
“My dearest lord,” you sniffle needily, sliding from the bed on shaky legs and sinking to your knees between his legs, then propping yourself up over your crossed arms on them with a pout downturning your lips. A quickly growing puddle of his leaking cum begins to drip on the floor between your legs. “Please kill Inko — she’s so very mean to me, and all the other concubines are too because she’s been here so long.” Your bottom lip trembles as fresh tears start, and he sighs. 
“But her cunt is so sweet, dear one,” he murmurs, and you whimper and hide your face in one thick, muscled thigh. 
“You said she was loose. Besides, she hit me — I carry your spawn inside of me, and she hit me.” You didn’t have even his cum in you then, much less a conceived child — but you knew how to play the Demon King’s instincts, and the slight angered huff through his nostrils betray the rage simmering beneath his skin. All it would take was the tiniest push further. “It was the face this time, the face you own, but what if she pushes me down the stairs next? I could lose my life.”
Growling fills the air, and you know you've done it. 
“Rest here,” he says quietly, his voice shaking with rage, “Servants will be here to attend to you in a few minutes.”
He helps you up with one hand, half-tossing you onto the cushy bed, then begins making his way out of his private rooms. “Where are you going?” you call innocently, pushing a frightened tremor into your voice. “My lord Ryomen, please don’t leave me — I’m always so frightened without you!”
He stops in the middle of the room; you can see him shaking with anger. “I have business to attend to,” he says through gritted teeth. 
Your eyes glitter. “Come back to me soon, beloved one — I miss you desperately every moment you are away.” 
A grunt is your only response, and he exits the room as servants wheel in your dinner. You curl up prettily in his massive nest of a bed, and you peruse the options he’d granted you eagerly. When he was done, he’d use the excess rage to fuck you again — you’d need to quell what appetite you have now and then some if you wanted enough energy to survive. 
In the distance, furious roaring mixes with shrill, fearful screaming, and you delicately tug apart the roast duck you’d been served as the sounds of more concubines than just Inko being killed fills the temple. Servants cower, and the younger cupbearers whimper, but you just smile softly and hold out your emptied cup. 
“I would like more pear juice, please.”
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𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.
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eupheme · 6 months
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— meet me in the woods
halsin x druid!reader/tav
rated e - 7.2k
tags: double druids, smut with feelings, aphrodisiac (in the form of a fertility solstice), mates/mating rituals, hinted at breeding kink, poly!halsin (but has a connection with you), pleasure dom!Halsin, canon-typical violence, masturbation, miscommunication, oral, PiV, size kink, multiple orgasms, cum play
Living in the city had muted your druidic powers, cut you off. That all had changed, in your journey across Faerûn. Something inside of you had cracked open - letting nature and instinct sink in.
And in spite of the feelings now burning inside you - you don’t know what it means to celebrate the Solstice. Luckily for you… Halsin is there to help you through your first.
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The sky has started to slip from soft shades of blue to deep orange and purples. Your wrist aches from where you scrub at your hide armor, removing the layers of grime from the long days of travel.
Your eyes flick up, like they have three times already in the last ten minutes. Across the twist of smoke from the fire that Gale tends, a cauldron of stew that has begun to fill the camp with it's rich aroma.
To where he lounges. To where your eyes meet soft green.
You look away.
"Do you think he's looking at us?"
You don't mean to ask this question out loud. It's a thought that swirls in your mind - slipping between teeth and a tongue loosened from a warm afternoon under the sun and a flagon of crisp wine.
There's the cutting strike of shale against steel. Sharp eyes flicking across to where yours have slipped, once again.
A lip curling, with the click of a tongue.
"Chk. I've seen that look on a male before." Lae'zel's tone is knowing, the slightest hint of a smirk sent your way, as she sharpens the edge of her longsword, "A bear that wishes to devour."
You blink, glancing her way at the humor in her voice. Trying to ignore the fluttering flip in your stomach at the thought.
"Oh, I am not so sure he sees me that way." Your knuckles curl as they press into a stain, your eyes dropping in mock concentration.
A red eye cracks open near your hip, Astarion's head propped up on the wrap of your bedroll. Curled like a cat under the sun and with the wafting warmth of the fire - a hand coming up to shield the bright glare above.
If it had been anyone else lazing next to you, you might have asked them to lend you a hand with the basket of vegetables for the stew - the next in your long list of things to-do. But secretly, you were just pleased he chose to spend the afternoon near you.
"Gods - I took you for boring, darling. But I never took you for stupid." He sighs, with a stretch.
Well, you had been pleased.
He ignores your look of offense as he pushes himself up on an elegant elbow, chin propped in the cup of his hand, "I don't think he's stopped looking at you since he's joined us."
A wistful sigh, "It's enough to make me wish I had saved that child."
Before his nose wrinkles, as he reappraises that thought with displeasure.
"Appreciate that, friend." Your response to his earlier remark is flat, as he flops down again.
"Oh, don't be like that," He drawls, "You were the one who asked."
The misdirection is noted with a small huff of a laugh, as you turn back to work again. Flipping around their thoughts in your own mind.
How you wish that were true.
Your own feelings were no secret to yourself. There had been no pretending in your heart, after your first meeting. Even if you had not always known the strength of your powers, you had always known yourself.
There had been a near-instant attraction with your first meeting. A suspicion that there was something special about the bear trapped in the worg pens. That feeling blossoming with the fluttering in your stomach when he had changed - the depth of his thanks at your aid in protecting the Grove.
A seed had been planted then. A hope that perhaps, with time - with some tending - that there could be more. That feeling only grows since, flourishing, weaving its way between your ribs.
And lately, you think there has been something more. His laugh comes easier. An eagerness to join you when you left the camp. Never far from you, when you return.
You were the first one he turned to after the rage of battle.
“Are you well, teuivae?”
As if you could not mend your own wounds. The word that slipped from his tongue lost as his eyes searched - until he was satisfied that the blood splattered across your leather armor was not your own. Broad hands that cupped your face. Close enough to brush his own against yours, but instead he had hovered.
Waiting - but for what, you did not know.
It had you wondering. You suppose enough now that those thoughts have made their way out into the world. Not knowing what to do, with your friend’s confirmation.
That feeling only increases, the turn of the moon turning it into a surging weight in your chest. Something physical, that gnaws at you. Tipping past want and hurtling towards something that felt like need.
Your thoughts of desire running wild, until you can’t help but slip your fingers beneath the layers of your bedroll. Your teeth biting into the heavy fabric that muffles the quick circle of your fingers, the soft sigh of your relief.
It was hard not to. To see him that way, to want him.
He is kind. Almong the best Elves you have met. He could take care of you. Your mind tells you, now. Protect you.
A very instinctual thought, one that you’ve brushed aside. You don’t need protecting. How could one protect against the tadpole, better than you already are?
But the thought comes back.
He would keep you safe. You know that, as certain as the changing of the seasons.
How quick he already is to race to your side - all teeth and claws. Imagining the honor of sharing his bedroll, how he’d wrap around you…
Only now do you realize you’ve been staring - your damp rag hovering in your still hands. A small shake of your head as you concentrate on your work. Making a point not to look again, to push the thoughts from your mind.
You really needed to get a hold of yourself.
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You’re still thinking about it later, as dusk settled. The sky now streaked with hues of purple and grey, the camp littered with small fires and torches. Bellies full of stew, content to wind down after the long day.
Under the stars, it's impossbile to ignore just how much things have changed.
In the city, everything had felt muted.
Even in the outskirts, the small towns you had flitted to. The desire to fit in cutting off your attunement with nature.
But, after the Nautiloid. After you had crashed down to the Wilderness. Met the others - truly embraced who and what you were - things had changed.
You felt more like yourself than ever.
Even when you thought your time left was marked by days. Hours.
The warmth of the sun against your face. Acres of trees, the bark rough beneath your fingers as you climbed.
It seeped into your skin. Invigorating you. That liminal space between beast and body melding as you changed freely, unrestrained by space or propriety.
It was freeing.
You didn't have a coven, in the city. A lone wolf - left to wander along.
Forgetting how it felt to channel the forces of nature, with the night air wrapping around you. A bond formed when you had met Halsin, your first prolonged contact with another Druid in years. Something had been planted, watered with admiration, carefully tended in the absence that had soon come.
An urge to stay at the Druid's Grove, once the fight was over. Something unlocking in you, a need for kinship.
It had been ignored - there had been no other option. But it was like part of you stayed cracked open. Inviting nature, the whims of Silvanus, to eddy inside you. Growing potent, under the wax and wane of the moon above.
Intimate feelings mixing their way in along the way. Undeterred by the quiet, shared murmurs. Of rumors and whispers of Halsin's many lovers - good natured ribbing about his scar.
You had often thought your heart was too large to belong to only one other. It had been a relief, when you heard Halsin speak the same, around the fire.
Not fearing a connection, but not limiting it. Like nature itself, he had said. His eyes had found yours - you had taken it as some sort of lesson, from the Archdruid.
Perhaps it had been an invitation, instead.
The thought is pleasing to you. Enough so that you think… you think it’s worth being brave for.
You can’t help but seek him out, once more. Thick arms cross over a broad chest as he talks, though you’re too far away to hear. But it doesn’t stop his gaze from finding yours over the top of Wyll’s head. The way his friendly smile softens, a look you suddenly feel certain is just for you.
One you return, as that thing inside your chest swells. Blooms.
You’ve trusted your gut so far.
You’re ready to trust it again.
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There is a stirring. A rooting, something sprouting in his chest. A feeling that has flickered before, but never this strong.
It had been easy, for gratitude and respect to bleed into something more, after their first meeting. After seeing such a fierce little thing take down two goblins with the flash of sharp teeth, sharper claws. A worg following, almost bigger than themselves.
Few would have stood before him, after. A frown as ferocious as their bear-form as she had offered her own opinion on how to handle the Druid Kagha, though his sentence had already been bestowed.
It had been hard not to smile.
There had been more pressing matters that had kept him away, after. Denying the offer to join her - them - the Emerald Grove had needed him more.
But still, something had lingered.
A connection. Something invisible that ties them together, that has nothing to do with the being that squirms in her mind. It begins lower - beneath the cage of ribs and where, perhaps, something soft lies.
It has him feeling like a yearling again, in spite of his three hundred and fifty years amongst Faerûn.
As the moons have passed, he'd become too accustomed to the gleam of her fur, in the sunlight. Nearly blinding him. Eyes as sharp and a tongue as quick as his.
Her true form as pretty as a field of wildflowers, of the rainbow spray of colors against the mist of a waterfall.
Evenly matched, he has thought. More than once.
The sentiment settles in his bones, trapping him - a rabbit in a snare. Though he's not so desperate to be freed, as he might have thought. The idea of being tied down had never been appealing.
But there is no urge to leave. To walk amongst the forest again, to find his way back to the Druid's Grove, for Spring. To dance and join beneath the moon, like he had for so long.
A more singular focus taking over his thoughts, as the rite approaches. A deep-seated hope, his affections shown in the ways known by his people.
Many have begun their attachments in the span of evenings to follow. Perhaps they would take the same path, if is she was willing.
The thought is more than pleasing.
It has him seeking out the eyes that fall on him so often. Finding where they linger now, in the flickering of the fire. The look she gives him - one of consideration, one of seeing in a new light - is one he knows well.
The beast inside him can read the subtle looks like tracks in the mudbank. The glitter of lights in her eyes like runes - etching a message just for him.
Enough that when she turns from the fire, when she pushes herself so carefully up - slipping like a shadow, into the forest...
It's impossible not to follow.
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You can feel him behind you, as you weave through the trees.
Anticipation, excitement, pricking up the hairs on the back of your neck. Guided by the stars that sift through the canopy of leaves above.
Your feet know the way, though your mind does not. Guided by something primal inside you, taking you to a small clearing.
Grass blankets the space, tucked away in the forest. Dotted with wildflowers, a break in the branches above to let down a shaft of moonlight.
The armor you once clung to left back at the camp. An innate knowledge that there was something special about this place - that you were safe here. Protected by your own abilities. Even more so, with him following.
There is much said, in the look that he gives you as you turn. The shift of his shoulders as he approaches, a slow nod of approval as his eyes sweep across the clearing.
“You’ve chosen this spot well. The Solstice, could you feel it?”
His words make you frown, suddenly unsure. The curve of his smile wanes at your silence, as he takes another step closer, “Is that not why you’ve come here?”
The hope you’ve carried sinks, settling low in your belly. So unlike the weight that was there before - one of hunger and desire.
“I must confess, I had been hoping.” He continues, with a cock to his head, “But it seems like we are on different paths.”
You have to answer him, you know this. It takes a second to gather your courage, this meeting quickly taking a much different turn that you have expected.
“I do not know anything of your Solstices. I came here because I hoped…” Your gaze drops, unable to look at him, “I had hoped that you would follow. That this night might be ours.”
A hand cups your jaw, tilting your head up. To your surprise he is smiling, his thumb stroking across your cheek, “Your answer relieves me. We are not so far apart. I thought I had been clear, but it seems you are still unsure of my intentions.”
Something flips in your stomach, melting the spray of ice that has coated your insides. A small flutter of hope, as your eyes search his green ones, “What do you mean?”
“I have become so accustomed to your presence, that I’ve forgotten that our ways are still unknown to you.” His voice softens, and you can’t help but lean into his touch - hanging on to each of his words, “I’ve been courting you for some time, now.”
Time freezes, for a moment. Your mind whirling past all the small moments you’ve collected - held so close to your chest. Reaching out to touch others that now made more sense.
Bringing you your share of dinner at the camp. A solving of the mystery of a fire that had been stoked during the night, an extra pelt placed over you for warmth. Caring for you.
You had mistaken them all for chivalry.
“-and I had thought you were accepting, tonight. With the beginning of the Solstice.”
“I must be dense.” You can’t help but smile, with a sensation of being able to breath again, “I had my own wishes, but I never knew-”
“I should have been more clear. Forgive me,” His hands touch his scars, his smile turning wry, “I thought it wise to let you set the pace of our journey.”
Hence his waiting for you to kiss him, after that battle. His following you, tonight.
Courage rises in you, once again.
“I want you to show me what it means to celebrate.”
He softens, for you. Hands dropping to entwine with yours, bending until your foreheads touch, “Then I am yours.”
The slightest tilt of his head, bringing your joined hands to point at the heavens.
“With the spring comes new beginnings. We lead the way, with the Solstice. Baring our flesh and joining beneath the moon, in an offering to the Oak Father.” His words are a low rumble, it’s impossible not to focus on his mouth, the way it quirks at his next words, “It is… rigorous.”
The heat that has simmered for weeks now flares to life, as his eyes darken.
Bu there's something small tickles at you, making you lean back. Your brow furrowing, needing the clarity.
"Is it just the Solstice that draws you to me?" Is it just duty that has ensnared his affections? Is this no more than fulfilling the desires of Silvanas?
He laughs, with a shake of his head, "If our first meeting had been in the Grove, your beauty would have been more than enough to enthrall me."
The knowledge is flattering. That he still would have wanted you, in another life, in another time. His next words are enough to cast the rest of your doubts aside.
"But make no mistake. For quite some time now, I have desired more. Deeper than the skin, down to the marrow." He brings your entwined fingers to his mouth, his lips pressing against your knuckles, "I fear you stole more than gold that day, in the Sanctum."
There is much that he reveals, with his words.
A sense that your feelings are more than reciprocated. A reminder that he does not mince words, like others you have known.
For as keen as your eyes are, you should have realized this sooner. The last curl of unease lifts, wafting up to stars above.
“How do we begin?”
“Eager. I like that.” Halsin grins - his eyes dragging over you, as his voice pitched low, “For starters… you are overdressed.”
With as large as his fingers are, they are dexterous as they tug at the tie of your tunic. A palm curling around your waist, tugging you close as your face tips up to his.
“And there is usually music.” He murmurs, dipping just enough to brush his mouth against yours, “But I am sure we can make our own.”
His name is a soft sound on your lips, before they press against his. Warm and solid and plush, a sigh in his throat as your hands reach up to grasp at broad shoulders. Slipping to tangle in his chestnut-colored strands, keeping him pulled close.
And you are reminded that he is strong. Abandoning your shirt when your tongue brushes his lip. Hands catching the underside of your thighs to haul you against him.
Your legs stretch wide around his waist. One of those hands moving to splay across the small of your back, a low growl rumbling as you nip at his lower lip.
Hunger gnaws at you, as he deepens the kiss. An ache to be closer, unable to get enough of the taste of him as he licks into your mouth.
Holding you against him as he sinks to his knees. Bringing you down against the blanket of grass, nestling you against it. A low chuckle at the way you still cling to him, entangling yourself around him like vines, as Halsin begins to tug at your clothes again.
Carefully, as if it's a gift to unwrap you.
"Come now, my love." He coos - another gentle tug, as you finally let go.
The air ghosts against your skin, warm with the changing of seasons. A low sound of approval with each layer that is stripped from you. The curl of a palm against your ankle, tugging off your boots. Heat pooling low, as fingertips brush up your thigh, settling at your belt.
"I long to see you bare beneath me."
He touches you as if he can't get enough. The sweep of his thumb over your thigh. Fingers joining yours as your hips lift, allowing him to peel your trousers down, and then off.
You think that perhaps it should feel strange, to be naked in the moonlight. But Halsin eclipses the brief fluttering of unease. The hunger in his expression captures yours, as he leans back to sit on his haunches.
So broad, so big. You think the desire must match in your own eyes, his sentiment so shared.
"Join me," You coax, a hand reaching for his thigh - feeling the muscles jump underneath.
His grin gleams in the moonlight, as he lets you start to do the same to him. Distracting you terribly as his hands skim from your waist to cup your breasts, teasing and pinching.
Only tearing the sleevless tunic from his shoulders before he's curling over you - his mouth pressing against your neck. Inhaling your scent with another low growl, his nose skimming over heated skin.
Those lips pressing against your throat, the threat of teeth as they part. You squirm beneath him, something inside you aching for him to bite down. To mark you.
You can feel his smile against your skin, his hands still teasing the tight peaks of your nipples. One drifting lower across sternum and belly, drifting across the curve of your mound.
It’s easy to arch into his touch, to urge his fingers lower. The sweep of his fingertips is so light, a summers breeze against your skin - a low hum of a laugh as your hips jerk again.
“I know it’s affected you.” There’s the slightest pressure - thick fingers split, tracing the crease where your thigh meets groin. Purposely avoiding where you need him, where you know you’re wet and wanting.
Another sharp intake of breath, before he’s pushing himself up to hover over you, “At camp. Your smell. It was difficult to hold myself back.”
He touches you, then. Twin moans as his fingers slip against slick flesh. Dripping, for him. Almost making you forget your words as the pad of his fingers circles your clit, as your hand brace against his biceps, nails biting skin.
“W-wasn’t the coming of Spring.” You protest - the rhythmic swipe of his fingers stealing your breath, “It was just you.”
The look he gives you then - it’s all soft edges, wrapped in a focus that’s so intense your eyes flutter shut. It’s too much, his gaze, his touch.
A low groan from his chest then, in recollection, “There were many nights lately where I wished to offer myself for your pleasure. Perhaps I should have.”
For your pleasure. Few would word it that way - conjuring images of him beneath you. His tongue tracing the same path of his fingers, your thighs pressing against the long points of his ears.
It makes you clench - the simmering fire in your belly sending up sparks, stoked by the way his head moves lower. Your fingers slipping to twist sharply in his hair, as his tongue peeks out to brush your breast.
“More, Halsin. I need you-” You pant, your free hand fitting under the bulk of his shoulder. Reaching to nudge his hand down lower, until his fingers are brushing your entrance.
He traces you, before he sinks into you, down to the first knuckle. His hands are so much bigger than yours, there’s already the slight stretching burn as he eases deeper.
The tilt of his head, chin pressing against your ribs. The fire burns in his own eyes, a heavy press of his hips against your thigh, letting you feel him.
“If we had been at the Grove, I would have hoped you would have chosen me as your mate for the duration of the three nights.” It’s a confession, the word mate ringing out - enthralling you, “Now, I do not know what tomorrow brings. I will give you all that I can, tonight.”
In a fluid motion, he moves. The ripple of muscles as he shifts between your thighs - their breadth stretching them too wide. Enough that you have to hook one over the curve his shoulder, before his head dips.
The heated swipe of his tongue hits you just as his finger presses deep and curls. You’re instantly thankful for his three hundred and fifty years, with the pointed exploration of his mouth.
A groan as he tastes you, those green eyes fixing on yours again. Fitting another finger into you as your heel digs into his shoulder, as your head tips back with a cry.
It’s too much. Pleasure skitters through your stomach, your hips moving on their own, matching the steady thrust of his fingers. How he drags them against a spot that makes you keen and squirm, before sliding them free to fit them between his lips.
Tasting the honey of your arousal, his lips already shining with you, before filling you again. Muscles clenching like the pull of a bow, waiting for the arrow to fire.
Halsin moans into your cunt like he’s feasting, like he truly means to devour you. His own hips pressing into the ground, easing his own need for friction.
Too practiced with the tight flicks of his tongue, the way his lips kiss and suck against the sensitive bud. The press of his fingers loud with how wet you are, matching your sharp, panting breath.
His name is a whimper before your muscles string even tighter. Going stiff as your breath catches, a pathetic whimper of a sound before you’re crying out.
The pleasure ignites, ripping through you as you come. As your thighs press around his ears, though he does not slow. Fucking you through it with his fingers, soft growls that buzz against your clit with each press of his tongue.
Leaving you breathless, boneless.
His mouth soft as kisses are pressed to your thighs, as you come back to yourself. It feels like you’re glowing, a soft haze settling over your limbs, down to the curl of your toes.
A broad hand smears your slick across his jaw, as he pushes himself up to kneel between your thighs. Where his cock strains against the leather of his leggings, tenting the soft fabric.
You ache to make him feel as good you feel. Something primal roars in your belly, as you follow him. Hands pressing against his chest, the flicker of shock turning warm as he lets himself be eased back.
Until it’s your thighs straddling his, moving up until your slick cunt is pressing against that heavy curve. His lips parting with a soft pant as you lean over him, your head dipping to kiss him.
He tastes like you, the sweet tang of your orgasm. Another shudder of pleasure coursing through you at the thought - as his hands find your hips, coaxing you to rock yourself against him.
Back home, you don’t know if you would have had the courage to climb this mountain of a man. But the images that flicker through your mind - the ones of him beneath you - are too strong, tugging at you. Beckoning your limbs to follow.
“I want to-,” You’re mumbling, between kisses, “Will you let me?”
“Follow your urges, my heart. Wherever they lead you, I am here.” His words sound strained, his hips flexing up, against you. More than content to be your guide, or to let you explore at your pace.
Your fingers drop to tug at his belt, with his consent. His hands coming to cover yours, lifting you with the rise of his hips. Freeing himself, his clothes joining yours on the forest floor.
It’s only here that you pause, as your thighs stretch across his waist. Where it becomes evident just how proportional he is - his cock full and flushed and heavy, curving up towards his stomach.
Unable to help touching him, his eyes fixed on the slight frown and then panic that flits across your features. A low rumble as your hand fits around him, your fingertips unable to touch.
“You-” You stammer, suddenly unsure, “Halsin, I don't know if I can-”
His eyes darken at your insinuation, his teeth flashing with his smile. Fingers curl around his base, tilting himself up. Pressing himself against your belly, the tip smearing a wet spot on your skin.
Measuring. Your grip tightens and he groans, his hips flexing into your touch.
His voice ragged, rough in the night air, “You can take me. Know you can, my love.”
You can’t pretend you’re not eager to try. Hands pressing against his chest, eyes flicking between his face and his cock, as you lift yourself up.
One leaving to hold him steady, taking a second to feel him slide against you. Muffling a sigh when he bumps against your clit, slicking him up with your release. Before you line him up, and start to sink down.
He splits you open. The pinch of his fingers against your hips hurts, as he tries to resist thrusting up into you. Even with your orgasm, your cunt slick with pleasure, he still stretches you wide.
Taking an inch, and then another. A tremble in your thighs as your knees press into the earth, a strangled whine as you make room for him.
His murmured encouragement catches in his chest, the moon and spring calling to him - only his experience keeping him from taking matters into his own hands.
A strong jaw ticking as you sink onto him, achingly slow - until your hips finally lie flush. Your hand flying to your belly, as if you could feel where he fits inside you.
His gaze is heavy, reverent. The press of fingertips against your skin as his grip eases, lips parting as you carefully begin to lift up - to rock back down.
The sensation flickers through you like faerie fire, the slow and sweet drag of him. Making you feel impossibly full, your head dipping down to hang between your shoulders. Hands curling into the hair covering his chest, as you figure out how to move.
It’s impossible to describe. A desire like you’ve never known bites at you, curling in your belly. You think perhaps you understand now - this need to bring forth the Spring and celebrate its arrival. It’s been something inside of you this whole time, waiting for guidance.
You have it, now.
“I-I did not think there was anything that could rival your touch,” Your words some out shaky - your thighs already twinging with the effort of moving. The steady rise and fall of your hips, the hitch in your breath when he sits flush within you, “I am happy to be wrong.”
The corner of his lip lifts in a snarl, but it’s one of pleasure. Just as gone as you are, with the drag of his eyes from your face, down to where you bounce on his cock. The thick peek of him each time your rise, shining with your slick.
It’s enough that his hands slip lower. Fingers slipping to rub at you again, each time you sink down.
“Use me, then.” He rasps, Come on, sweet one. Take your pleasure.”
Your heart races, breath caught in your throat at his words, his touch. The slow pace increasing, as you try to do what he says.
Instincts flooding wisdom, drowning it out - tilting your hips until your thighs tremble, as he knocks against a sweet spot inside you.
Again, and then again. His eyes are fixed on you now, and the look he gives makes you clench - coveting his attention. Wanting him to only look at you, tonight.
To sear the feeling of you into his memory, as he has done to you. You think there is nothing that could make you forget tonight.
To forget this swirl of magic, as if you’re tethered to the ground, the sky, him - all at once. Utterly free at the same time, your body moving on its own without inhibition, encouraged by the sound of his moans.
The clench of teeth - the heavy press of hips that have begun to snap upward, no longer able to hold back.
“Oh gods-” You keen. Once, and then again - a grinding circle of your hips against his fingers, as that feeling inside you threatens to burst again.
Halsin chases the rock of your hips now with his own, with his fingers. His laugh rough, caught between his teeth.
“The gods may be listening, little one. But only I will answer.”
It makes you shudder, makes you beg.
“I’m so close. Please don’t stop.”
His fingers stay true. Pressing just a little harder, a jostle of his thighs as his feet plant against the ground. Fucking up into you now, as your pace falters. Too focused on the rushing white noise in your ears, the feeling that’s so big that it feels like you’ll choke on it.
“Let me feel you.” The words are muted, miles away. Digging into your skin to weave around your ribs, “Sweet one, come on-”
Your cry rips from your lungs, as you tip over the edge. He’s there to catch you, the steady pound of his hips as your own legs fail you. Fingers sweeping as the pulse of your cunt matches the heartbeat in your ears, clenching around him as you find your release.
Pushing himself up to meet you, as your arms wrap around him. Letting you chase the last waves of pleasure with the grind of your hips, your mouth panting into his neck.
A sweet sweat beading at the nape of your neck, across your skin. Your head turns just enough to meet his, his hand coming up to curl around the back of your neck.
To hold you to him, hovering over him, as he buries himself in you again. Again and again, until he is panting as you steal kisses. Tasting where you still linger in his tongue, another melding of your spirits.
“How do you want me?” His eyes are bright, hands slipping down to cup your ass, to help you ride him, “My heart, I fear I won’t last-”
You had made a pretty coin, brewing herbs and potions. Enough that you could do it in your sleep, your talents extending to camp. Teas of protection brewed openly and without shame.
The need for him to spill in you floods your senses, your own breath ragged at the thought.
“In me, my bear.” You beg, leaning back - the snap of your own hips sharp and loud, “I need you in me.”
The groan he makes is laced with relief. The feeling coursing through him as well - an innate need to spill himself into your cunt. To rut himself into you, until you’ve taken every drop.
Your name is ragged on his lips, as his thrusts turn shallow. As you take over, riding him until his hands grasp at your waist, as he goes stiff beneath you.
He throbs, a warmth flooding deep inside you. A pretty sight, his strong back arching into you - lips parted, hair streaming loose amongst the wildflowers. A snap of teeth as he grinds against you until you drip with him, too full of his cock to keep everything inside.
Fully joined, beneath the moonlight.
Afterwards, you melt against him. A hand smooths down your back as your fingers wander. Across the fur of his bare chest, the curve of his lip. The swirls of scarred and tattooed skin - your lips following.
He’s beautiful beneath you. Eyes content and half-lidded as an arm tucks beneath his head. A little inhale of breath - his broad chest rising as your lips move to his neck.
If you were Volo you think that, perhaps, you’d write a song about this. But that would mean that you would not be with him now, and the thought all but fills you with agony.
That hand on your waist tightening as you push the thought away - stretching up to reach the curve of his ear, a groan as your tongue traces the point.
It moves you against him. His cock slipping part-way out, only to sink deep again with your exploration.
He’s still hard, achingly so. You’re more sure whether it is a blessing of Silvanus or just him - this being so perfectly crafted in nature’s image.
Your teasing winds him up, even as his release leaks from you, shining against your thighs. A groan buzzes against your lips, where they still press against his throat.
A shifting beneath you, a pointed lift of his hips that nudges him against that sensitive place inside you.
“Let me take you, once more,” He husks, his face tipping up to yours. Knuckles brushing your cheek, tender in spite of the fire burning in his eyes, “Like the Oak Father intended.”
Desire still burns in you. An ache at the thought of having him another time, enough that you’re pushing yourself up to straddle him.
Nodding, your begging “please” making him smile, as he pushes himself up on an elbow. His eyes raking over your body, bathed in the glow of moonlight. Where he’s still buried deep, kept warm by you.
Before he’s moving. Hands gripping at your waist - a soft whine when he lifts you off him. His cock flushed and shining where it rests against his belly, as he rolls you beneath him.
“Hands and knees, my love.”
You’re eager to do so. The grass soft against your palms as your knees press into the ground. Arching your back - feeling the weight of his gaze as his thighs brush against yours.
The curve of his cock pressing against you, as he squeezes the flesh of your ass. His touch reverent and hungry, grinding himself against your core as he groans.
“If I could keep but one image in my mind, it would be this one.”
You moan at his praise, rocking back to meet his press of his hips. His hand dropping to wrap around his slick cock, notching it at your entrance.
Holding himself there as his chest presses against your back - warm, as his other arm wraps around your middle. It does something to you. The position, the feel of him overwhelming you.
“Halsin-” You pant, each second ticking by feeding into your desperation, “Why do you wait?”
“My impatient little she-bear,” He laughs, but the sound is strained with you beneath him, “Do not fear, I will give you what you want.”
And he does, the thick tip of him parting you. Sinking deep with a rough thrust of his hip, making you cry out as he fills you.
You had thought he was big before, when you rode him. But you had been in control - taking him at your own pace. Bouncing at your leisure, aided by the span of your hands against his muscular chest for balance.
Now, it feels like he’s in your throat, as he seats himself completely. As you make room for him, gripping him so tightly he chokes on a breath, fingers biting into your skin.
Yours wrap around his wrist, braced against the grass for balance. Nails biting into skin as he noses at your neck, his breath warm where it ghosts against your skin.
A kiss pressed there, so tender that you feel yourself relaxing. Rocking your hips back, whimpering at the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls.
“Take me,” You beg, wanting more, “Feels so good, I want you-”
He groans, and you can feel him throb inside you. There’s the sharp snap of his hips, starting shallow. Sliding out further each time, until pleasure is crackling against your skin.
The little clearing filled with the sounds of your joining. Panting breaths and the slick sound of you taking him. Fucking his own cum deeper into you, lewd with the way you cry out when his cock grinds against that spot. When the heft of his balls kiss your clit again and again, heavy with his arousal.
It feels right. Halsin’s body pressed against your back, bending you until your chest is flattened against the grass. Fingers finding purchase in the strands and flowers, giving you something to hold onto as his thighs crash against yours.
Each deep thrust pushed your breath from you with a soft whine, leaving you panting.
Trapped beneath him, until all you can do is take it.
Squirming against the cage of his chest and arms.
Fuck me. Take me. Fill me-
It comes from deep inside you. The want to be filled. An ache at knowing he’s already spent himself, that each thrust brings him closer to a second.
You must say the words out loud because he makes a noise that sounds wounded. A stutter of his hips, his words a jagged rasp, “Let go, my love. I've got you.”
So, you do. Releasing your hold on that last ounce of control. Leaving yourself in his hands, letting your sounds and cries flow freely. Embracing the mounting pleasure as it swirls through you.
You babble - half-formed words as he holds you against him. Shifting when he hears you sob, rutting himself against the spot that sends you up to the stars above. The broken “oh, oh, oh’s-” bleeding into “Gods, Halsin-”
His teeth press against your neck, pinching against your skin, “Give yourself to me.”
The arm curve around your waist moves. Fingers carefully wrap around your hair until it’s fisted in his grip. Pinning you further as he pants in your ear, soft grunts and growls that sound like music in the night air.
Not stopping until you’re shuddering beneath him. Until he feels the tight pulse of your cunt, his own release not far behind. As sweet as the taste of you, as your muscles jump under his touch, as you arch and claw at the grass below you.
It’s bliss. It feels like you’re channeling the forest itself. Feeding off the pleasure that radiates from him. The new beginning of the season, the pull of the moon above.
The Gods are pleased, you think dizzily, they must be, for I have never felt like this.
The slap of his hips is louder, as you soak him. An overwhelming instinct to claim you, as his teeth sink into the curve between neck and shoulder.
Holding you still against him as he growls. Eyes flashing gold as you cry out again - pleasure and pain melding as your orgasm flares out, beginning to ebb in sweet bursts. As the sensation drags him along to find his own end.
Spilling into you a second time with a shout. His hips moving on their own, shallow thrusts with each pulse of his cock. Your head twisting to meet his mouth, a press of teeth and tongue as you swallow his groans.
Until his strength is all but sapped from him.
Until he is more man that beast again, those eyes soft and green again - a field of clover on a bright spring day.
It’s an easy thing, to take you with him to the forest floor. To curl around you - blocking your smaller form from the midnight chill that’s begun to creep in.
Warm and strong - an arm wrapping around your hip, a large hand splaying across your belly. As if those thoughts still lingered.
Still pressed inside you, keeping you filled with him. You think you’d be content to stay like this all night. Longer, if there was not more work to be done, tomorrow. More paths to be taken.
It’s not long though, before you find yourself shifting. Dozing in his grip, a sleepy rock of your hips in an effort to feel him move in you again.
“Oak Father, preserve me.” Halsin stirs behind you, as he huffs into your hair, “Insatiable little thing. And to think I worried about you lasting through the solstice.”
Your teeth bite into your lip as you grin, as his arms wrap more tightly around you.
“I should have been concerned about myself. This old bear needs rest, little one.”
But even with his low rumbling, his hand drifts. The pad of a finger brushing against your clit, sending another shot of pleasure coursing through you.
Your thighs part, a knee bending to give him access. Another soft whine as his circles against skin that is slick with his release, as his hips slowly match the lazy rhythm.
“Do not worry, my love. I will not leave you wanting.” He rasps.
“And there are many left hours until dawn.”
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omg I started playing recently and I am so in love with this game. this was so much fun, I hope you enjoyed! I love Druids so much (and am playing one) and thought they for sure would have a 👀festival👀 of some kind and wanted to explore that in the context of like, act ii/iii (I am still playing so please let me know if I got any lore wrong!!)
Teuivae – ‘Moonlight’
(tags: @samspenandsword, @amywritesthings)
1K notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 6 months
Note
Hey Mei 🫶
Here’s my idea - BAU!wife who yells at Hotch when he yells at their team members because she’s a protective momma bear. And hotch secretly loves it because his wife yelling gets him all hot and bothered.
Love you 🫶 and your writing thank you 🧡
Perhaps it's an unwise idea to pick a fight with your surly husband, especially because he doubles as your surly boss. But Spencer hadn't even been that late, and you know he only walked in late because he takes public transportation, and he couldn't control that the bus was late. And, Aaron's only in such a sour mood because Jack had given him typical teenage attitude before school this morning. So really, Spencer didn't deserve the near-shouted lecture he'd gotten.
You march over to the young doctor's desk, happy that his aversion to touch applies to people he's not familiar with. He leans into your stomach when you pull his head to rest on it, albeit stiffly, and you call after your husband with narrowed, fierce eyes.
"Aaron, come back here right now and apologize." You demand, and the already icy mood in the office shifts a few degrees colder. Aaron stops on the stairs and by the tightness of his shoulders he's composing himself, then he turns on his heel and raises a thick brow at you.
"What?"
"He didn't deserve that," You scold him, keeping Spencer's head cradled to your stomach as you stroke down his back, "He's a baby."
Aaron rolls his eyes, "He is not a baby, Y/N. He's a grown man with a government job, and I expect him to show up to it on time."
"He does! He's early every single other day," You remind him, "But the bus came late today! How was he supposed to get here? Uber? You know he doesn't know how to download new apps! Let alone link his bank account to pay the guy. He was seven minutes late, for fuck's sake, just leave him alone!"
Aaron looks like he wants to snap. You've gnashed your teeth at him, and he's lived the life of a fighting dog thus far, so you know you're treading in dangerous waters. But after a rather intense stare down in which you feel Spencer's face heating up through the fabric of your shirt, your husband swallows his pride and mutters, "I expect you in my office within five minutes, Y/N."
Spencer mumbles some feeble protest on your behalf but you pat his back to shush him, letting go so that he can straighten up again.
"Don't worry," You send him a warm smile, "I can handle him. Call me if you ever need a ride again, okay? We can come pick you up."
"Okay." He nods, but it's most likely only to deter you from pampering him with any more motherly affection, as he looks like he's going to wilt from it, "Thanks, Y/N."
"Anytime," You squeeze his shoulder, passing your concerned teammates unbothered smiles as you make your way to Aaron's office.
He's only recently sat down when you arrive, but you notice that he's conveniently sitting so that the desk blocks your view of his lower half. You stand at attention in front of his desk, playing coy like you don't know what's coming next.
"Do you enjoy questioning my authority in front of my team?" He asks you, voice carefully even and tight.
"I enjoy doing anything that makes your dick twitch, Aaron." You announce, your tone deceptively casual for the filth you're spewing, "Did you haul me in here to fuck me over the desk? The blinds are still open, don't you think that's a little distasteful?"
Your attitude only makes him more uncomfortably aroused, and he regrets getting his suits tailored so precisely, as his pants have little give. He leans forwards across his desk, dark eyes boring into yours.
"No. I hauled you in here to tell you that I'm going to fuck you over the desk. But not yet. You're asking for it now, so I'm not giving it to you. Maybe if you'd been a little more polite, I'd have given you what you wanted. But now you're going to wait, because you decided to bicker with me over the rules of this office. Rules that I set, because I am in charge of keeping this team on track."
The harsh tone of his voice makes your stomach twist, and you're feeling your heartbeat in two places. You stand there, saliva slowly accumulating on your tongue, until he raises a brow at you, unimpressed.
"Don't do that again. Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir." You lay on the formality hot and heavy, practically purring it and watching as he shifts slightly in his seat, "I'll be waiting, whenever you decide you can't take it anymore."
"Careful." He snaps, eyes ablaze at your implication that he'll be the one to break, "Don't dig yourself any deeper. Dismissed."
You turn to leave with a satisfied smirk on your face, and perhaps you exaggerate bending over to pick up a stray paperclip that you notice on the floor by his door.
"Here," You pad back across the room to hand it to him, not missing the way that he's tense all over, "See you in twenty, Hotchner."
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strangerstilinski · 8 days
Text
𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨
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𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers
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It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.
And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.
Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-
You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.
“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It’s like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.
His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.
“What are you even talking abou-”
“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.
“Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”
“God, you are hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”
Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and the boy's chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.
“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”
“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I don't think any of us were that invested hearing you talk about the ‘big tip’ that some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”
“Steve, c'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.
“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.
“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugged, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet. It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”
“What, and just 'cause you're a jackass that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.
“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”
“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you as the rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”
“Well I don't care if some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “So, I guess, if that makes me an asshole-”
“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, and I'm able to do so without acting like a fucking-”
“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”
The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? That was the highlight of your day, because the rest of it had been a fucking disaster.
You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. You'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks squelching wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd burned yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had no choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.
“Y'know what? Fine.”
You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the turn in your evening.
“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”
“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, like he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”
There are protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm still struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.
“Hey! Wait up.”
Steve's voice does make you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around. Your steps finally come to a stop when he calls out to you again.
“C'mon, honey wait, wait, wait-”
You blow out a frustrated breath as he finally catches up with you, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.
“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that’s begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”
You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back around. You lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.
The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. There’s warmth seeping into your palms from beneath Steve’s tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from inside. Your eyes are level with his chin, wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You’re still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.
“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly.
It’s only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face smelling of the gum he’s always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he’s leaning in-
The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can’t think, and you’re not sure you’re even breathing, but his lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You’re gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve’s arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.
His tongue brushes against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away and he prays he'll never forget it. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.
Your head is a little fuzzy when your lips separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you’re gasping comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve’s quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the back of your neck.
“You kissed me.” The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.
“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”
His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — casual, tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he’s kissing you just because he can.
“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”
“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.
“Why-”
Kiss.
“Are you-”
Kiss.
“Kissing me?”
Steve’s breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D’you want me to stop?”
“No. Hell no.”
And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.
He looks so pretty like this, you think. The light shining above your heads catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you fear you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.
You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.
“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to shut you up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.
His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”
You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Maybe we will.”
When his lips descend on your own again, it takes ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.
It’s like there are hearts in his eyes.
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stayinlimbo · 29 days
Text
cat walk
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pairing: lee minho x reader ft. soondoongdori requested?: yes; 100 followers celebration genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, i am only using my own cat experience, lowercase intended, slightly unedited word count: 935 note: thank you @infinity-tiny for the request. i definitely took some creative liberties with it but i hope you still like it ♡
if anyone had asked minho what he thought he’d arrive home to on a seemingly normal friday evening, he probably would’ve described his typical welcoming committee consisting of you shouting out a “hey min!” from somewhere in the living room or kitchen, and, if he was lucky, his cats poking out from their usual hiding spots to greet him. 
it most certainly wouldn’t have been this, yet here we are. 
minho’s hand hasn’t even released the front door handle before soonie’s pleading eyes bore holes into his soul. the cat’s large body is draped comfortably over your shoulder, but minho can tell that soonie would rather be literally anywhere else than where he currently is.  
the sound of rustling diverts minho’s attention towards the ground next to your feet. doongie’s sprawled out form rubs against a pair of shoes strewn to the side of the entryway as he noisily meows at the sight of his owner’s (father’s) figure barely stepping past the threshold. 
minho flicks his eyes back up as soft clicking noises reverberate around the narrow hallway, watching the final child hesitantly making his way towards your free, outstretched hand holding his favorite treat. 
“what are you doing?”
dori’s cautious steps halt at minho’s voice, making you quietly groan out in frustration.
“hey min, happy to see you, now shhh for a minute please,” you hastily whisper, gaze focused on the brown tabby. the soft clicking resumes and dori finally comes close enough for you to scoop him up in your arms alongside his older brother. 
you whirl around to face your boyfriend, who at long last has properly entered the house and closed the door. a radiant grin illuminates your face at the sight of him. if minho’s being honest, it tugs at his heartstrings a bit. you missed him and you’re so happy to see–
“hold soonie and dori for me, will you? i need to grab this bag real quick,” you rush out, not giving him much of a choice as you’re already transferring the two cats into his arms. 
okay, so maybe not. 
minho watches you jog over to a bag he didn’t see at the end of the hall, laughing at the tiny slip in your footing when you turn around to come back towards him. you plop down next to doongie, giving him a quick pet before fishing in the bag and pulling out a leash and a cat-sized reflective vest.
hold up. 
“you didn’t,” minho blanches, watching you put doongie’s head and paws through the green vest’s openings, hooking the leash to the rings that are now attached to the cat’s back.
“i did. soonie,” you reply, reaching up for your next (unwilling) participant. minho crouches down next to you, reluctantly complying with your demands. 
“you’re going out now?” he questions. poor soonie is not as cooperative as his younger brother, and it takes everything within minho to not save him out of pity for what is to come. 
“yes, they’re more frisky in the evening—dori—so i thought ‘why not?’”
“but it’s dark outside,” minho tries to reason, passing you the final feline. it’s of no use, you are too far gone. 
“that’s what the reflective vests are for. duh,” you counter, rolling your eyes with a fond smile as you let dori leap out of your hold. “there, don’t they look ready for the outdoors?”
the cats are all sprawled in different positions on the floor. soonie still looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, doongie is preoccupied with swatting the bag now, and if dori could make himself any smaller, he would turn into a perfectly shaped ball. 
no, ready isn’t the word minho would use. 
you must see the hesitance still lingering behind his eyes because  this time you sift through the bag to retrieve a human-sized reflective vest and pull it over your sweatshirt. 
“if it makes you feel any better, i’ll be wearing this the entire time with them to be extra safe. please, please, please let me try this,” you beg, looking at him with your best imploring eyes. 
minho has to give it to you, you’ve gotten better at this. you must’ve been practicing after the last time he told you “no” to something he can’t even remember at this point. 
he lets out a sigh at your unwavering gaze, finally giving in to your pleas. “...did you at least get me one?”
“of course i did, who do you think i am?” you scoff lightly, digging through the bag and extending your hand towards him with his very own green reflective vest. 
as minho slips on what, in his opinion, is the ugliest vest he’s ever seen in his life, he can’t help the smile blooming on his face growing wider. although this may be one of the weirdest methods (and he means it) you’ve used to get the family all together, he can see the commitment and energy you put into making sure everyone would be safe. 
you don’t need to know right now that he tried this years before he met you and that the cats will give up entirely about ten steps away from the walkway. he’ll let you discover that on your own. 
and as you call “hurry up, let’s go!” to him halfway out the door with soonie and dori in your arms, doongie trailing slowly by your feet trying to bite the loose leash dangling in front of his face, minho knows he wouldn’t trade this for the world. not when he has the ones he loves most all in one place.
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liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡
taglist: @linospuddin @linocz
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etheries1015 · 4 months
Note
Bestie yk that Yuu begins their friendship with Malmal because sir was roaming around old buildings right? Imagine Yuu starting a friendship with Malmal simply because of boredom. Class was soooo boring so Yuu decided to just chat with the person near them, which was Malleus.
You don't care if he's the next king of Briar Valley, if you're bored then entertainment is THE priority.
YES I LOVE THIS OSDLFSHEESFLS what better entertainment than the Fae prince himself?
Imagine You, sitting at your desk listening to another long and strenuous lecture that had not managed to keep your attention, doodling not even being able to satiate your boredem. So, what's the next best thing? Bother your deskmate, of course. You noticed him a few times; a rather tall fellow with long black horns and eyes as captivating as pure emeralds and ears pointed unlike a typical human. You always thought perhaps he had an affinity for theatrics- the way he seldom spoke up. At times you thought he hadn't even been a student at the school- the teachers never seemed to call his name during roll call (Of course it was because everybody already knew the esteemed prince of the land of faeries.) You know what they say, right? Always befriend and be nice to the quiet kid in school. So, out of boredom and curiosity, You tapped his shoulder.
"Hey," You whispered, The tall man with pointed ears started at the sudden contact before turning his head to look at you peculiarly. Without as much as an answer, you began to ask your question.
"Are those real? Your horns?" He seemed to pout at this only for a split second before confusion and offense seemed to mix into his (rather beautiful) features. He tilted his head before seemingly deciding on something in his mind, leaning over to take another look at you.
"Is that a genuine question, child of man? Are you, what they say, 'pulling my leg'?" He asked. You almost laughed at loud at the pompous way of speech he took on, and immediately knew you would be thoroughly entertained by this man. You found it...almost incredibly attractive, the way his silky deep voice spoke in a victorian royalty kind of way. You let out a quiet chuckle and with a raised eyebrow you leaned against your desk with a hand propping up your head as your elbow lay firm against the wood.
"Well, as far as I'm aware I'm as genuine as one can be," You smiled, "I'm (y/n), what's your name?" Another question that colored him mildly bewildered yet incredibly inquisitive at your pure ignorance of who you sat next to. Malleus opened his mouth to answer, yet found himself closing it a couple times while contemplating revealing the truth. Perhaps this person was genuinely in the dark about his status and position, and he did not want to miss the chance to converse with someone who willingly wanted to hold relations with him. Thus, he bit his tongue and turned it into a game.
"My name doesn't matter," He said, "How about you choose one for me?" You raised both of your eyebrows and bit your bottom lip attempting to hold back a roar of laughter, you truly had found one interesting fellow to introduce yourself to.
"Alright...how about...hm..." You studied his person before snapping their fingers in revelation. "Hornton!" They said it almost too loud, and the professor quickly chastised them for speaking during the lecture. Malleus gave you a fond smile and nodded, turning back to the teacher resuming the boring lecture that took place.Your boredom showed no bounds, however, and you decided to hand Malleus little doodles with silly notes through the end of the period. Malleus did not reciprocate these notes, for royalty need not indulge in such silly idiocracy, yet the least he could do was appreciate your attentiveness to the prince. Once the bell rang and marked the end of the period, you collected your things and held out your hand to the tall prince.
"I decided you're my new friend! Here's to our long-lasting friendship, hornton!" Malleus's eyes widened in shock, standing and staring down at your...incredibly trusting and naïve smile before his shoulders shook in laughter. Nodding and holding his hand to reciprocate your gesture of kindness, he shook it earnestly.
"Indeed. I look forward to our...friendship." He watched as you skipped away and out of the room to your next class, Malleus gathering the silly little notes he now called his treasures and shuffling them into his pocket.
He suddenly found himself becoming excited for next day's boring lecture.
~~~~
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slytherheign · 1 year
Text
YOU BELONG WITH ME | tasm!peter parker
PAIRING: high school senior!tasm!peter parker x high school senior!fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 3.9k
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SUMMARY: you can’t help but feel insecure when you realize your best friend peter and the most famous girl in the school are keeping a sweet secret from you.
WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, awkwardness, jealousy, insecurities, self-loathing, reader is an overthinker and assumes things easily. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]
AUTHOR'S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. angst with happy ending. dedicated to @joshiiieeenesx, thanks for supporting me and requesting this. i hope you’re having a great day!
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DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS YBWM (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).
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It was Friday Night.
Your favorite day and time of the week because of your tradition with Peter to order pizza and watch a movie. Tonight was a bit different though, you both decided to order your least favorite flavor of pizza and watch the lowest-rated movie ever. 
Peter made a joke in the middle of the movie, causing you to laugh and cover your face with your hands. It was a habit you developed since you were a kid when a bully made fun of you for having an ‘ugly-laughing’ face. “Stop,” he chuckled as he captured your wrists with his hands. “Stop what?” you questioned unknowingly, allowing him to hold your wrists and pull them away from your face. You stared at him confusingly.
“Stop covering your face when you laugh,” he said. “I can’t see your pretty face.” Peter would always make little comments here and there about you, most of them being compliments. You ought not to make it serious since you’d always tell flirty jokes to each other, but you just can’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach every time he would compliment you.
You tried covering the increasing redness of your cheeks with laughter. “I’m serious. Stop covering your face,” he told you. “What if I told you I’m doing it on purpose?” you thought of a quick funny remark.  “And why, may I ask, are you doing it on purpose?” he quirked an eyebrow. 
“Let’s just say, if you see my beautiful face when I’m laughing, you might just fall in love,” you joked, smirking at him. There was a tinge of the color red in his cheeks, but he was quick to hide it with a chuckle.
“Well, why don’t you let me see your beautiful face then let’s see if I really fall in love?” he remarked. Once again, you laughed because you didn’t know how to respond. Peter was laughing with you when his phone suddenly rang. He quickly stood up, covering the name of the caller with his hand before walking to a private secluded room in his house to answer it. You didn’t mind it. After all, everyone deserved privacy when they’re talking to someone on the phone. Besides, you were actually quite thankful because the phone call interrupted the growing awkwardness in the room. You paused the movie while Peter talked on the phone in the other room.
Minutes passed and you were getting bored of waiting for him. You decided to pull your phone from your jeans pocket and open the Instagram app for a bit. Your feed was pretty much full of your schoolmates that were either busy preparing for prom next friday or busy with the upcoming game on Monday. You scrolled mindlessly, double-tapping each post from your close friends when you stumbled upon a post from her.
Gwen Stacy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body. The cheer captain, head of the planning committee, the smartest in school… well, not the smartest because that would be Peter… but still the smartest girl in school. Having all that, you’d think she was the type to be the typical mean girl, but no… she’s actually the nicest.
In the picture, she was smiling with the other cheerleaders, their teeth as white as snow and their faces as beautiful as barbie dolls even when they were sweating. Sometimes you just wonder if they ever had a bad hair day or they’re just perfect all the time.
“Please! Gwen, come on!” you heard Peter yell. Gwen? Why was he talking to Gwen Stacy?
“Really? Yes!” you heard him exclaim excitedly. A pang of jealousy hit your chest, the feeling was unwelcome because you knew he wasn’t even yours to begin with. But still, it hurt.
The next thing you heard was his footsteps nearing the door. You collected yourself immediately, greeting him with a smile as he opened the door.
“Sorry about that,” he smiled, with the same fucking smile you fell in love with. He sat next to you on the couch, subtly putting his arm on the back just around where your head was resting. He grabbed the remote from your hand, but for a few seconds, you felt it linger when his hand touched yours.
He pressed the play button and you both continued to watch the movie.
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“Okay, just so we’re clear. You think Peter and Gwen are dating?” your other friend, Mary Jane, iterated on the phone. It was Sunday night, the only time MJ had free time this week since she was also a cheerleader.
“Yes,” you answered clearly. “I heard them talking on the phone the other night. Peter seemed really happy and excited.”
“And what do you feel about that?” she asked.
“Uh–I don’t know?” you admitted.
“I call bull. Come on, I know you’re in love with Peter.”
“Okay. I do have feelings for him… but I don’t think he feels the same about me. He probably asked Gwen to be his prom date even though we promised we’d take each other to the event.”
“So you’re not going to prom anymore?”
“I mean I already have a dress so I guess I’ll still go. It just sucks that I’ll be going without him.”
“Since when did you get a dress?!” 
“Uhh… since last week?” 
“And you didn’t even tell me?” she made a sound of absolute shock. Knowing her, you knew she probably had her hand on her chest while making that sound. “I could’ve helped you pick.”
“It’s not a problem honestly. Besides, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise?”
“Can you at least tell me the color?” she pleaded.
“Blue. Like the kind of blue in Spider-Man’s suit.”
“Weird way to describe a color. Is there a specific reason why you chose blue? I thought you never liked blue.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you but don’t tell anyone about this because I think Peter is kinda embarrassed about it… Peter is obsessed with Spider-Man. He’s such a huge fan of his–maybe even his number one fan. He even tried to hide it from me, but when I found a Spider-Man suit in his closet he just started getting really nervous and he only stopped when I told him it’s fine if he’s a fan. I’m not judging him, I think Spider-Man is really cool too,” you explained. “I was hoping he’d notice the color reference but now that he’s going with Gwen Stacy, I doubt he would even look at me.”
“You really think Peter would ignore you? Have you seen how that man looks at you?”
“He looks at everyone like that. It’s nothing special,” you denied.
“Listen, believe what you want to believe but I know Peter is definitely in love with you too. But if you did end up alone and out of place at the event, you’re welcome to sit with me.”
“Thanks, but you literally have a date. I don’t wanna be a third wheel,” you laughed. “I appreciate the thought though,” you exchanged goodbyes not long after that, wishing her good luck on their cheer performance.
You thought hard about what she said. Peter did become more clingy to you these last few months and he always made sure to text or call you every day. You guessed there really was a chance Peter shared the same feelings with you. 
Maybe he was just talking to Gwen as a friend.
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You were at the gymnasium where you'd have to watch student-athletes pass the ball to each other, all having the same objective to shoot the ball in their respective goals. And when a member of a team claimed their shot, it would repeat all over again. 
You were never into sports. If you had a choice, you’d rather stay in bed and continue reading Looking For Alaska, but instead, you were stuck sitting on the bleachers while watching cheerleaders dance their routine in such a flawless manner. As much as you wanted to focus on MJ and support her, your eyes couldn’t help but look at Gwen. She really was mesmerizing.
You were too busy comparing her shiny legs and the way they moved with their short flowy skirts with your simple t-shirt and sneakers to even notice someone sitting beside you.
You continued watching Gwen dance, focusing on her pretty face and realizing that even in her sweaty condition she still kept dazzling everyone in the room with her beautiful smile. You noticed her wink in your direction. For a moment you thought she was winking at you, but when you followed the direction she was smiling at you noticed it was directed at someone beside you—Peter. 
Funny. You didn’t even know Peter was beside you.
“Hi?” you greeted, putting your best smile in front of him while your stomach ached from cruel jealousy.
“Hey,” he simply replied, before focusing on the phone he just got out of his pocket. He was busy texting someone. 
“So…you already have a suit for Friday?” you asked, trying to start a conversation. He shook his head. “Nope. But I plan on looking later today.”
“Cool. Do you want me to go with you? I don’t have anything to do after this,” you offered. 
He stopped and finally looked at you. You noticed how his eyes widened at your question and after mere seconds of looking at your eye, he looked away. He didn’t even need to open his mouth, his body language already told you that he already had someone he was going with.
You felt too sick to even hear his reply, immediately knowing the answer. You excused yourself, going straight to the bathroom to try to compose yourself and your body that was slowly starting to shake. You looked at yourself in the mirror, yelling inside your head to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. 
You and Peter were supposed to be inseparable. From childhood up until that moment earlier on the bleachers, you thought you would end up together.
All those years, you have convinced yourself you would be together and told the stars that he belonged with you.
But maybe he belonged with someone else.
And if you truly loved him, who were you to stop him from following his heart?
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The moment you stepped inside the school tomorrow morning, Peter immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder.
If it was yesterday or the days before, you would’ve loved it and your stomach would’ve already been swarmed with butterflies. But today, all it felt was aching pain.
“Hey,” he kissed your cheek, a thing he always did whenever he saw you at school. “MJ told me you went home early yesterday because you weren’t feeling well. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve walked you home.”
“It’s fine, really,” you answered. It wasn’t fine, but how could you tell him he was the reason you couldn’t bear to stay at school yesterday?
“Well, I missed you. You got me really worried.”
And there it was again, the feeling of your heart jumping just from the words he said and how his voice spoke them. Was Gwen even okay with him putting his arm around your shoulder and walking with you in the hallways?
You did your best acting like everything was alright for the rest of today. Peter was busy texting Gwen for most of the time anyway, it wasn’t hard to convince him everything was fine.
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Classes for Wednesday and Thursday were suspended to give way for prom preparations. You didn’t have much to do on Wednesday, so when MJ offered an idea to practice doing makeup and putting on the dresses to prepare for prom, you agreed.
You sat in your room in front of your vanity mirror while MJ did your makeup for you. She matched the eyeshadow with the color of your dress, and you must admit, she did amazing. Next was your hair, you requested it to be an updo, with the hairpins you picked out scattered attractively.
For a moment, you wondered what Peter could be doing right now. His house was just next to yours, his bedroom window facing yours and if you only pulled your curtains aside, you would see him through his window—if it wasn’t covered by his curtains.
Mary Jane snapped you back to reality by complimenting the details of the dress she just pulled out of your closet. “I need to see you in this dress now.”
You chuckled but complied nonetheless. With her help, you carefully put on the dark blue long dress. “Shit. This dress is made for you,” she complimented. It was true, you were indeed a vision. The dress hugged your body perfectly and the details were perfect to your liking. You never liked the color blue, but this dress got you second thinking. 
After putting on your heels, you checked yourself out in the mirror when MJ’s phone suddenly rang. “Peter? Hi,” she answered. As soon as she said his name, you turned around to face her.
“Are you okay?” MJ asked Peter. “You sound ill.”
“What’s happening?” you didn’t care anymore if Peter wasn’t talking to you. Something was wrong with him based on MJ’s reaction, and you were concerned.
“Oh my god.”
“MJ, what is it?” 
“Something is really wrong with him. I think we need to go to his hou–” she didn’t have the opportunity to finish her sentence when you immediately walked out of your room still in your dress and on your way to Peter’s house. MJ followed you but stayed outside Peter’s house. She smirked the moment you entered his house. Everything was going as planned.
Aunt May was thankfully on vacation somewhere, you couldn’t imagine her reaction if she saw you rushing towards her nephew’s room in a long dress and in heels. 
You carefully knocked on his bedroom door, announcing your presence. “Y/N?” he asked and you hummed in response. “I’m in here,” he answered from the next room. As far as you can remember, that room was an empty one. You weren’t sure why Peter was in there but in times of emergencies like this one, you didn’t care. “Can I open the door?” you asked.
“Yes.”
You did not expect what you saw.
The room was dark as a result of the windows being covered. On the floor were littered little candles with your favorite scent lit up to light the room in a romantic manner. There was an area left for you to walk leading to the middle of the room, which had a space just enough for two people. You also noticed the petals of roses scattered on the floor as a string version of your favorite song started playing. 
A figure emerged from the shadows—Peter. He offered his hand for you to take and only then when he led you to the middle did the fire from the candles revealed his outfit. He was wearing a suit that perfectly matched the color of your dress. You didn’t know how he knew the exact color of your dress, you would ask him that later.
You were both speechless, neither knowing what to say. “Wow…” he breathed out. “How could a person look so beautiful? You are unreal.”
“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look handsome too.”
He held your hand and guided it towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it before holding each of your hands with both of his.
“Peter?” you started to say. “What–”
“You know I prepared a whole speech just for this moment,” he interrupted. “And then as soon as I saw you, I just forgot every single thing in the world because you’re the only one that matters.”
Tears were starting to gloss your eyes but before you could start crying from his sentiment, you asked him a question that has been vexing you for quite a while.
“What about Gwen?”
His face was quick to react to your question. His forehead scrunched up, looking at you as if to tell you if you could emphasize your question.
“I thought you were together. You were talking to each other pretty much the whole week. You were texting and calling each other, she was with you when you picked your suit, and then I saw her wink at you at the game.”
His face slowly dawned with realization. As soon as he realized what you were talking about, he couldn’t help but laugh. But upon seeing your worried face, he stopped laughing at once and looked straight into your eyes with absolute seriousness.
“Gwen and I are nothing more than just friends. We are not together. We’ve been talking to each other a lot because I asked her for help on how to surprise you. She also helped me pick the right suit so I wouldn’t embarrass myself with a lousy one. She winked at me at the game because she was excited that after the game ended, we would set up this surprise. And also because I was sitting next to you in the bleachers, she kinda saw me stare at you while you were busy watching the cheer routine. The wink was just her teasing and being excited. It doesn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s only you. I only want you.”
“Shit. So I really just overthought the whole situation,” you chuckled. “I’m so stupid.”
“No, you’re not stupid. Don’t invalidate your feelings, It’s completely understandable. If I was you I’d think the same too.”
After a short moment of soft understanding silence, you felt him stiffen. His hands now held yours a little bit tighter. “Can I ask you a question?” he finally said.
“Let me guess, you want me to be your prom date?” you tried to ease the tension with the obvious question.
“Yes, and no.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I want to take you to prom, yes. But that’s not the only thing I want. I want to take you on dates, I want to dance with you not just at events organized by the school, I want to buy you flowers, every day if I can; I want to watch scary movies with you and laugh when you’re too scared and you hide yourself with a pillow, I want to watch sad movies with you and bring you tissues and cuddle you the moment you cry, I want to watch romantic movies with you and cringe together when the characters do something embarrassing and wrap my arms around you when you blush at something sweet that they do. I want the tears, the pain, the frustration, the confusion, the sweetness, the laughter—everything. I want everything. With you.”
“Pete…”
“We’re seniors. Next year, we’re going to college. We will take on different paths and places, but before that even happens, I want you to be my place that’s never changing. And if you feel the same, I want to be your place that’s never changing too. You have been my best friend since we were kids, and I don’t want my memory of us to be just two people being friends since childhood,” he said before resting his forehead against yours. “I am in love with you, Y/N L/N. Would you be willing to enter a relationship that’s more than friends with me?”
Tears glossed over your eyes again, but this time, you let one fall. Peter was quick to wipe it with his hand. “Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not hold it against you. Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not cross the line of being more than friends. Know that I will not force you into a relationship you do not want. Tell me if you don’t feel the same and I–”
“Yes,” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “The answer is yes. I am in love with you as well, Peter Parker. I have been for a long time.”
Peter smiled, now feeling his own tears try to escape his eyes but he didn’t let them fall. “May I dance with you?”
You chuckled but agreed, letting him guide you into position. Your forearms rested on his shoulders, your hands softly stroking the back of his neck while his hands were positioned at both sides of your waist. As the music still played in the background, you both started swaying.
“I can’t take my eyes off of you. You’re gorgeous,” he commented. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Your suit even matched my dress,” you said back.
“I’ll have to thank MJ for that.”
“Wait–MJ is a part of this?” 
“Of course, she is. How’d you think I knew the color of your dress?”
You suddenly remembered the conversation you had with MJ when she asked you about the color of your dress. And then you also remembered that MJ was the reason why you were even inside Peter’s house right now in the first place. Peter called her and then she said that something was wrong with him and urged you to come here. Where was she even now anyways?
Peter laughed as he watched your face change from confusion to realization. “You know what–I’ll give it to y’all. You, Gwen, and MJ are good at this,” you admitted.
“The dressing up with our prom outfits and dancing was my idea though,” he spoke as he guided you into a spin. “I wanted our first dance to be private, not in a room filled with other students.”
You saw him glance at your lips for a moment before looking back into your eyes. “I also want to do this,” he said as he leaned in closer and met your lips with his.
You’ve imagined this moment ever since your heart started beating for him. But still, the feeling of his lips against yours for real was better than what you’d imagined it to be. The kiss was soft but intimate, neither of you having a need to rush into things but at the same time making up for lost time pining over each other silently. You wished you could kiss him forever and stay like this but you eventually needed to pull away to breathe.
“So, you really thought I was in love with Gwen?” he teased while you were catching your breath.
“Way to ruin the moment,” you chuckled, lightly punching his arm before nodding.
“Shit. I really made you jealous?” he seemed really proud of what he had done from the way he was smirking.
“Are you happy?” you jokingly asked, rolling your eyes with fake annoyance.
“Am I happy? Of course, I am. I just kissed you.”
You couldn’t find the words to reply as you blushed harder than you’d ever blushed before. Instead, you just laughed out of blissful happiness.
For the first time ever, he saw you laugh without covering your face and it was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He couldn’t help but kiss you again.
Needless to say, the future was exciting.
If only he could tell you that he was Spider-Man.
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SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx
TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST:  @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan
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ALWAYS AND FOREVER || 1,6k
post-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Joel comes home after a hard day on patrol and you comfort him.
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, ANGST, m/f masturbation, mention of somno, mention of canon typical violence, mention of death. I chose not to include all the warnings so as not to spoil the fic.
A/n: written for @iamasaddie ‘s writing challenge 2.0. color: Joel’s denim shirt. genre: hurt/comfort. prompt: "It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay." Aly, you creative genius, thank you for hosting such a fun event! Also sending you kisses and hugs for the gif in my mb! Love you, baby!♥️ Smooches to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing the fic💕
MASTERLIST
*****
Joel stomps through the bedroom door, growling and mumbling obscenities under his breath. He’s tense, every nerve is an open wire, every unexpected sound makes him flinch and grit his teeth. He’s tired, lack of sleep painted his skin gray and his beard is all patchy. He looks like shit.
“What is it, Joel?” You ask sitting on your favorite spot on the bed, the left side, which is closer to the window and to the sun that is a rare sight in autumn here. Joel often laughed at you calling you a cat for your love to lie there, basking in the sunshine or napping. And you loved taking naps so much. When Ellie, Joel and you came to Jackson and settled, you couldn’t get enough of that sweet afternoon sleep.
Sometimes Joel would snuggle up to you, spooning your sleeping body, enveloping you like a big warm cloud. Many times you’d wake up to his lips moaning in your ear and his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy, your body already vibrating on the verge of climax. You loved it. You loved him and he loved you.
“What is it?” You sing the question, repeating it again. His frustration, annoyance, anger or whatever else that ruined his day is about to spill everywhere, staining every corner of this house, and you need to stop it, defuse the bomb that’s about to explode.
“Nothing,” he drops in your direction, not looking at you and you sigh. He untucks his flannel shirt and strides to the bathroom. He doesn’t wash his hands and face right away. His eyes are boring into his own reflection, hands gripping the sink until his knuckles whiten. Not being able to contain himself any longer, he roars and elbows the mirror, shattering it into pieces.
“You hurt?” You ask quietly, standing in the doorframe, hands clasped shyly in front of you. You’re wearing his denim shirt and panties, nothing else.
His head whips in your direction and there are tears in his beautiful brown eyes, bloodshot from his constant insomnia.
You furrow your brows and step into the little room. He raises his hands, trying to stop you from walking on the glass-littered floor but drops them, seeing your bare feet gracefully step between the remnants of the mirror.
When you’re close you look up into his pained face and put your palm on his elbow, the one he just jammed into the wall. He doesn’t flinch.
“Wash your hands and come to bed. Please,” you ask quietly and reach up kissing his lips.
He does what you’ve asked him. He always did. He trusted you like no one else in this goddamn world. Maybe only Ellie and Tommy.
Joel sits on the bed next to you and you make him lie down, your hands applying light pressure on his tired shoulders.
He exhales feeling the frustration and rage leave his body already, bit by bit. He wants to pull you to him, hug you, kiss you but like a ray of sun you slip away from his fingers. He watches you get up and walk to the window.
His gaze catches the sway of your hips, the curve of your ass peeking out from under his shirt and he already feels his jeans getting too restrictive for his stiffening cock.
“Pull it out,” you tell him, quiet dominance in your voice, after you turn around and perch your ass on the window sill. He looks at you with defiance at first, always ready to object, but your sweet smile makes his hands dart down to unzip his jeans. You pull down your panties and take them off.
The only thing you have on now is his old denim shirt, worn out and soft, the one you stole from him years ago. You’re unclasping it now, fingers quick and sure and he watches you, palming his throbbing cock through his boxers.
You leave the shirt open and he sees a valley between your breasts and your belly. He catches a glimpse of your pussy and takes a sharp breath.
“Pull it out, Joel,” you ask with a soft and sultry tone, the one that makes his cock twitch every time he hears it. His name on your lips is like a balm for his restless soul and he places it somewhere deep for later to use, to remember.
He finally pulls his boxers down and takes out his semi hard cock. You inhale deeply and give him a little smile.
“You’re so tense, Joel,” you purr, lifting on leg and placing your foot on the window pane, “Relax for me.”
Your pussy is exposed to him now and his hungry gaze latches on your blooming flower while he’s holding his breath.
“Play with yourself for me, sweetheart,” he pleads before spitting into his palm. He wraps it around his girthy cock and starts slowly moving it up and down.
Your hand resting on your inner thigh slides to your center and with two of your fingers you spread your folds to show him your glistening pussy.
“Hnggg,” Joel groans, bucking his hips and thrusting his cock into his own huge fist.
“Wanna taste you, baby,” he rasps, eyes pleading under the bushy eyebrows.
You shake your head lightly, giving him a warm smile and start rubbing your clit. Joel’s watching you and pumping his cock faster, the skin on his hand wet with precum, his moans accompanied by your soft whimpers. Your chest is heaving and the denim shirt opens up, exposing your breasts.
“Make yourself feel good, my love,” his voice is quiet and full of love.
The hand on your pussy gets busy, as you’re plunging your fingers into your crying hole and move them in and out with the rhythm of his cock fucking his tight fist.
The other hand kneads your breasts, tugs on your pebbled nipples.
His hungry gaze desperately darts between your face, tits, belly, pussy. The vision of you, weaved into the golden light from the window behind you, brings tears to his eyes. He wishes he could take a picture, draw you like this, capture this image and store it forever behind his eyelids. Joel grips his cock tighter at the base, delaying his release for a few moments. He’s getting drunk on the sight in front of him, insatiable and already thirsty for more.
Joel is happy to forget about everything for these few minutes, his mind occupied by your fingers being pushed deeper into your sweet cunt, your face twisted with pleasure, back arched and legs trembling. He can hear how wet your pussy is.
Soon a climax takes over you as you freeze for a second before waves of pleasure shake your body making you cry out his name only for his ears,
“Joel!”
He wishes you screamed it coming on his cock and his cum spurted deep inside your pussy instead of all over his belly and hand like his pulsating cock is doing now.
You sniff, eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and he smiles, recognizing your telltale sign of a satisfying orgasm.
“C’mere, crybaby,” he whispers with a tired smile, wiping his spilled cum with the hem of his shirt.
You’re next to him in a second, lying on your stomach, arms folded on his broad chest, your chin resting over them.
“My sweet girl.”
His gaze showers you with warmth and adoration, arms itching to hold you, lips - to kiss.
“What happened, Joel?” Your piercing eyes are searching for the answer in his face. He takes a deep breath looking up at the ceiling, trying to quiet the rage, rising from the pits of his stomach again.
“We were on patrol. Me and this new kid. Dumbass! I told him to be careful but the asshole didn’t wait for me… rushed into the house when I specifically told him to wait…Found him on the floor, fighting a clicker. Bastard was lucky I was there on time. Shot the damn thing just before it bit his fucking face off.”
“In that house?” You ask quietly and he nods.
You sigh and climb a little higher on the bed and plant a kiss on his weathered lips. He averts his eyes embarrassed by the smell of whiskey you must have noticed but you smile and cup his scruffy cheek.
“You saved him. I’m proud of you, Joel.”
He closes his eyes, comforted by the softness of your touch, by your praise and he feels his soul healing a little. But the memories flood his mind and a second later his serenity shutters again.
“Yeah, I did. I saved him,” he rasps looking deep into your eyes, “but I didn’t save you.”
A tear slides down his cheek and you kiss it away. You pepper kisses over his eyes, nose, lips and then search for his sad eyes and speak softly,
“You can’t save everyone, Joel.”
“I don’t give a shit about everyone,” he snaps, fire waking up behind his eyes again, “I care about you. And I fucking lost you.”
His eyes are pleading for a miracle, tracing your slightly blurry features, but you can’t make it happen.
“You didn’t lose me, Joel, I’m right here,” you purr against his cheek, before taking his face in your hands. Your love is so strong, Joel can swear he feels their warmth on his skin.
“It’s gonna be ok, Joel. You’re gonna be ok. You have people who love you. Ellie, Tommy. And you have me. Always will.”
Joel nods and wishes he could see you longer but the exhaustion takes over and soon he falls into deep relaxing sleep, lulled and comforted by the ghost of you.
*****
Thank you for reading!🌺
Please consider reblogging and commenting if you enjoyed the fic. Your feedback motivates me so much!♥️
Masterlist
Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @missannfairy @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover
If you’d like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕
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luminnara · 1 month
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Unheavenly Creatures Part Two | Feyd-Rautha x reader (NSFW)
PART ONE
Summary: in the wake of an arena victory on his name day, Feyd rautha blows off some steam with his darlings.
MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
Read this fic on AO3 under the same account name, luminnara!
Warnings: group sex/foursome, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mentions of cannibalism, canon typical violence, it’s Feyd-Rautha it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, bloodplay, biting, marking, possessiveness, the whole shebang
Word count: 4.6k
Note: I have been desperately trying to find any info I can on the harpies, and I have not managed much 🥲 so pls enjoy my headcanons and made up names ily bye
Tags: @austinswhitewolf @aeilani @maneater17 @serrendiipty @belovedbastardremus @the-dark-dreamer25
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It was a day of celebration, and the entire palace—no, city—was abuzz. Inside, a feast was nearly finished, a kitchen full of cooks working day and night for a week to prepare the na-Baron’s favorite dishes. Outside, beneath a black sun, the citizens of Giedi Prime sat cheering in the arena, drinking in the sight of their beloved Feyd-Rautha as he gutted the last of the Atreides warriors. Even as you made your way back to the palace, the roar of the crowd was deafening, their penchant for bloodshed seemingly increased tenfold on this special day.
“Come,” one of the women next to you said, her voice a high, breathy hiss.
“Feyd will want us,” the other smiled, her black teeth contrasting dramatically against her near-white skin.
Feyd-Rautha’s darlings had been quick to accept you as one of them. You suspected it was partly because they didn’t dare question him, though you had seen occasional instances of what could be considered mild defiance from them in your short time on Giedi Prime. They, and you, were permitted to act out on occasion, though none of you were foolish enough to do so in a way that would cast an ill light on your beloved na-Baron. And he was your beloved—with each passing day, you grew more and more comfortable with the Harkonnen heir, and more and more certain that he adored you.
“We will feast on Atreides tonight,” Issa sighed.
“Feyd will reward us,” Yarina said, looking down at you with a grin.
You returned it.
As the three of you walked down the hall, moving as a single, predatory unit, Harkonnen and guests alike were quick to move out of the way. You heard the whispers, caught the curious, sometimes shocked stares as you passed. Feyd’s darlings were rarely seen wandering, and as such, even members of the Harkonnen nobility found themselves stunned by the sighting.
You kept pace with the others as you walked, mindful of the carefully curated air they liked to keep about them. They were both exquisite examples of Harkonnen beauty, equally as dangerous as they were lovely, and though you still did not know much about who they had been before Feyd chose them as concubines, you enjoyed their company. It was a good thing, too; now, you spent nearly every moment with them, and when you weren’t with them, it was because you were alone with Feyd-Rautha.
Some nights, he called you to his bed, having his way with you, whispering things in your ear that he would never say during the daylight hours. Things he reserved only for you. At night, Feyd-Rautha could be almost kind, and you came to suspect that he loved his darlings, in his own way; otherwise, why would you all be allowed to touch him, to pleasure him, to feast with him?
You had never expected that you might become a concubine for the heir of one of the Houses. As a child, you had often dreamt of becoming a princess and being swept away through the stars to wed your handsome prince. But you were no noble; your parents bore no titles, and the closest you were ever meant to come to greatness was when you served your former masters. Was it luck that had brought you where you were today, freely roaming the Harkonnen palace while you awaited your beloved Feyd-Rautha? Or had fate played a trick on you, giving you close to what you had always wanted while still refusing you any title or noble birth? Perhaps it was better this way; perhaps you would enjoy your life as a concubine far more than you would if you had been a lady of the court.
Perhaps the universe had known you would one day commit violent acts, and planned a fitting role for you. If you hadn’t killed your father all those years ago, would you even be on Giedi Prime now? Would Feyd-Rautha had cared at all about the handmaiden who had wandered too far? Perhaps he would have killed you, seeing you as expendable. He would have slit your throat, and his uncle the Baron would have pretended he cared enough to apologize to the Lord and Lady you had served. They would have gotten someone new, and you would have been easily and quickly disposed of.
Perhaps Feyd would have fed you to his darlings.
How strange the wheel of fate was.
“What are you thinking about?” Issa asked you, tilting her head as she looked at you curiously. Her voice was always breathy and alien, a dreamlike quality within it. It matched her appearance and yet it didn’t, making her seem even less human than her black teeth and eyes did.
“Yes, you seem so far away,” Yarina agreed, her accent more akin to the na-Baron’s than Issa’s. You had been on Giedi Prime long enough now to recognize differences in accent and dialect, and had begun trying your best to imitate Feyd’s in an attempt to better fit in. You had no idea if it was working or not, but no one had commented on it yet, which you took to be a good sign.
“My House allied with House Harkonnen,” you said as the three of you neared Feyd-Rautha’s chambers.
“Your former House,” Issa corrected, raising a hand to stroke your cheek. “You are Harkonnen now.”
“I do not look Harkonnen.”
“You do.” Yarina pressed a kiss to your shoulder.
This was normal with them, you had come to learn; they touched casually and constantly, always in contact with each other and now you by default.
“There is no doubt my former Mistress, or at least her husband, is visiting for the celebration.” You said.
“Perhaps our lovely Feyd-Rautha will kill them for you,” Yarina offered.
“Perhaps our lovely Feyd-Rautha will allow us to kill them,” Issa grinned.
You did not know if you wanted that to happen.
You followed them through the door and into Feyd’s living quarters, settling on the large bed while you waited for him. You could imagine him stalking through the halls, bright red Atreides blood painting his chest and face as he hurried back to you. He would kill or maim anyone who stood in his way or tried to slow him down. He was always wild after a fight in the arena, and he always came to you hot and hard and ravenous.
You hoped today would be no exception.
“He must hurry,” Issa pouted as she lounged next to you. “I’m growing hungry.”
“He will come,” Yarina sighed. “He would never let us starve.”
You weren’t sure if they were talking about sex, or food, or both, but you always marveled at the way they spoke of Feyd. They knew how dangerous and callous he could be, but to the harpies, that was normal. If he was a lion, then they were the lionesses; just as cunning, just as regal, just as hungry. Whenever you walked alongside them, you learned more of how to be like them. You learned how to keep your head held high in a room of Harkonnen men, confident that none but Feyd-Rautha would dare to touch you lest they lose a limb or their life. You learned how to stomach the violence that the na-Baron enacted so frequently, and even how to anticipate it eagerly. You had changed in your time on Giedi Prime, and you were becoming more and more like your fellow concubines by the minute.
When you finally heard heavy, determined footfalls outside, you perked up. The door opened not a moment later, revealing a bloodied Feyd-Rautha, his chest heaving and his gaze dark as he crossed the room, eyes glued to you. There was no time to be scared before he was upon you, cupping your face in both hands as he kissed you hungrily, greedily, sharply biting at your lip. You gasped involuntarily and he was quick to force his tongue past your teeth, exploring your mouth while a hand moved to squeeze at your breast.
You felt a soft hand press against the back of your neck as one of the other harpies held you, her body supporting you as Feyd-Rautha pushed you down. The other moved onto her knees, undressing him quickly before leaning in to lick blood off the side of his face.
He moved to catch her lips in his and you gasped for air, heart racing as hands pulled at your dress. Craning your neck, you saw that Issa was behind you, her hands now massaging your breasts as she leaned over you.
Feyd easily threw Yarina down next to you, the bed rocking slightly. He paused, panting as he stood and looked down at his three darlings, all still clothed while he was bare. His full lips curled into a smirk, eyes raking over your bodies as he crawled over you once more.
“This must go,” he said simply, taking a fistful of your dress and pulling.
One of the others sucked in an excited breath, quickly taking the torn scraps and tossing them to the floor.
Feyd-Rautha dove for your throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses against the soft flesh as his strong arms caged you in. Someone’s hand slipped between your thighs and you opened your legs obediently, feeling slender fingers stroking you as you were prepared to take the na-Baron.
It wasn’t the first time you had all been together like this. After you had settled in and grown more comfortable with the others, Feyd had permitted them to watch as he bedded you. They had both been fascinated by the small amount of body hair Feyd chose to let you keep, and you had been fascinated by the way no one, not even Feyd-Rautha, had touched you intimately without permission, or at least without being expressly told not to.
This wasn’t the first time you had felt those fingers inside you. When the three of you were alone, the others taught you how to please Feyd-Rautha. They had perfected it to a science, and it reminded you of some of the rumored Bene Gesserit teachings you had heard of; secretive, calculated, confident. Always in control, even when it seemed that they were not. You had been surprised to learn that the na-Baron was vulnerable in front of his concubines, shocked, even, by what you had seen when he took them to bed; for he was not always demanding and petulant, but also subservient. The others knew how to give him what he truly wanted and needed, and that was sometimes the permission to be a different man while behind closed doors.
Today, though, that was not what he wanted nor needed. Today was a day for chaos, for Bacchanalia. Today, Feyd-Rautha’s feral energy was driving him into a frenzy, teeth sinking into whatever he could find as he marked you with his bites over and over.
“Yes,” you gasped as fingers pushed deeper into you. “Oh, yes…”
Feyd tore himself away from your neck to devour another’s lips, his hips grinding against yours as a pair of hands wrapped themselves around his cock and began stroking. The bed was a tangle of limbs and the air was heavy with breathy moans, no one quite sure of where anyone ended and anyone else began.
When you felt the head of his cock prodding at your entrance, you moaned, and it came out almost choked. There, surrounded by so many bodies, you felt hot and slick all over, already sweating before the real work had even begun. Your voice was thick in your throat as you begged for him, pleading with him to please fuck you, please use you…and he obliged, because you were saying exactly the right things to make him drunk with lust.
“Feyd,” you whispered, hands searching for him.
“M’darling,” he groaned as he pressed his face into Issa’s neck, the sound guttural and primal.
“Please,” you whimpered as Yarina ran her hands over your front. Your thighs tensed in an attempt to soothe the needy ache between them, but Feyd-Rautha was in the way, like a solid tower of muscle and flesh that refused to give. “Feyd please!”
He was faring no better than you. His cock ached and wept as it slid over your lips, now wet with your own arousal and throbbing with need as blood pooled in your groin. With each teasing thrust of his hips you grew more desperate, breaths coming in whiny pants as you huffed and begged, chest heaving as your back arched up off of the bed.
As Feyd-Rautha allowed himself to be guided into you, he groaned that deep, heady groan, the one that always had you melting and turning to putty in his hands. You gasped at the feeling of his cock sinking deeper and deeper, slowly, until his skin brushed yours and you swore you could feel him in your womb.
When his hips rocked back you let out a strangled moan, and when he pushed into you once more you made a noise that would be considered filthy back on your home planet. Feyd-Rautha had a tendency to bring those noises out of you, and fill your head with thoughts that some would be disgusted by. As he fucked into you with ever-increasing brutality, though, he reminded you why you were so happy living with him now. Looking up into his dark eyes that watched you while his lips brushed over another woman’s shoulder as she held him, you felt nothing but lust and glee and adoration. Sharing him was easy when you were part of a set like this, and when you were all together as one moving, breathing creature.
His gaze was intense. You knew he loved watching you as he pleasured himself with you. Sex was like war for him, each bedding a conquest, each fuck a battle. You were never his enemy, though; you were his prey.
And you enjoyed being caught.
“Feyd,” the harpy behind you called in her hissing voice.
He tore his lips from Yarina’s flesh, leaning over you as his hips continued thrusting, meeting Issa above you. He attacked her hungrily, hands gripping her roughly as his speed movements grew more erratic. You knew he was becoming more and more frenzied by the sighs and moans, his kisses turning to bites. You watched, enraptured, as he sank his teeth into her shoulder, a bead of dark blood running down her breasts and dripping onto your cheek.
Yarina made an excited sound and dove around Feyd-Rautha, intent on licking it up. Before she could, he released Issa, shoving her aside as he snarled at Yarina, hands coming down on other side of your head as he caged you in once more.
She hissed at him, jealous and hungry, moving instead to suck at the wound the blood had oozed from. The na-Baron huffed a ragged laugh, baring his black and bloody teeth as he grinned at them, then down at you.
“You will have your turn,” he said to them while looking at you. “You will never go hungry.”
You knew he was speaking of both literal and sexual appetites, and that he meant it; there was plenty of blood and plenty of him to go around, and he was incredibly good at balancing his attentions between all three of you. Though his concubines were meant to serve him, at times it seemed as though that was achieved by him serving you—ensuring that all of you were happy, proving that you were well cared for in all ways. When his darlings were happy, Feyd-Rautha was happy. You could almost call it love.
His love was harsh, though; as he gazed down at you, you felt as if you were the only one in the universe, drawn in to those dark eyes, and you obediently turned your head and bared your throat to him. He relished the sight, and the willingness, and the vulnerability. He could kill you so easily like this, with his cock buried inside you and his teeth in your flesh. A part of him longed to spill your blood everywhere; you knew because he had said so before.
But he wouldn’t kill you.
You were his.
And he was shockingly gentle with his things, reverent when it came to their care. His knives, lovingly and proudly displayed on the wall, another hidden in the bed in case of emergency, were always sharpened. His favorites were sharpened by him, because he trusted no one else with them, much they same as how he trusted no one else with you.
As his teeth sank into you, he moaned, relishing the feeling of having you there in his jaws. He could crush you if he really tried, if not with his teeth then with his hands. But as he held you close and swept his tongue over the sore mark he had left, you knew he never would. You were safe with him, as odd as that felt.
“You are so beautiful like this,” he breathed as you gazed up at him.
“You are as well,” you replied, smiling at the admission.
He kissed you, deeply and seriously, not a hint of those teeth. It was pure, in a way, just like his care for you was; not pure in the innocent sense, nor the good sense, but pure in that it was simple and primal. It wasn’t evil. It wasn’t overtly just. It simply was.
Then, he nipped at your lower lip, sharply enough to draw blood, and he sucked at it greedily. You felt a tingle in your core, something uncoiling within you. When you brought your legs up and hooked your heels around him, he pushed into you even further, as if he wanted to force himself inside your very skin. When he dropped his head next to yours, you knew he was close—and when he bit into you again, you shrieked, and you knew you were close as well.
“Fuck,” he growled against you. “Move.”
You immediately unlatched your ankles and he pulled out, painting your front in his seed. Marking you as his once more.
He tilted his head as he looked at you. You writhed beneath him, hips bucking as you searched for him, so close to your own end and yet now feeling devoid and empty.
“Shh, pet,” he cooed, reaching between your legs. “I will care for you.”
You were nearly in tears as you watched him, far beyond the ability to speak coherently as he toyed with your swollen clit. His mouth moved to your inner thigh and he bit, drawing blood, leaving a trail of marks. The sounds that left your throat were desperate and wanton, echoing off the high ceiling of his chambers as Feyd-Rautha made quick work of you. Your pleasure was agony and beauty, and as he dragged you down over the edge, your voice felt hoarse from your cries and moans.
Anyone passing by in the corridor would hear.
You did not care.
You would never be ashamed of the sounds you made when Feyd-Rautha pleasured you, and as he bent down to swipe his tongue over you and lap at your wetness, you felt a smug sense of achievement. There was the na-Baron, on his knees, tending to his low-birth, off-planet concubine.
He pressed a kiss to the deepest bite mark. “Exquisite.”
Then, you were gently moved aside, and he began anew with one of the others. Though he was selfish, your pleasure was his, and he worked through the three of you however he pleased, always ensuring you were sated. You watched in fascination as he made them writhe, and when he allowed his own skin to be broken, you sucked at the wound, tasting the strange Harkonnen blood on your tongue and appreciating the fact that you were probably the only person from your home planet to have ever been given the chance.
How strange, the things you appreciated now.
-0-
“Something troubles you tonight,” a rough voice commented.
You turned your head to look at its owner. “Why do you say that?”
“You aren’t in bed with the others.” Feyd-Rautha approached you, coming to stand behind you.
He was right; you had initially found sleep to come easily after a long day of celebrations and feasting, your aching body in desperate need of rest. But after some time you had awoken, and it was impossible to close your eyes again. So you had dressed yourself in a black robe and slipped away, escaping to the balcony window down the corridor.
“My apologies,” you mumbled, looking down at the railing.
His chest brushed your back as his hands gripped your elbows. “You shouldn’t be out alone.”
“I know, but—“
“I was worried.”
His admission made you pause. When you glanced up at him, you saw that he was serious, jaw tense as he looked down at you.
“You were?” You asked, staring at him with wide, black eyes.
“I was.” His voice was stern. “It is not safe.”
“I’ve wandered these halls before,” you said, a hint of amusement in your tone. “Even before I joined you.”
“You were a guest.” He said. “I was your greatest threat then.”
“I wasn’t afraid of you.” You jutted your chin up towards him.
“I know,” he grinned. “When you told how best to spill your guts so as not to ruin the meat, I knew.” Then, he grew serious once more. “I also knew I must have you, and no one else would touch you.”
“No one here would dare.” You said haughtily. “They know better than to play us.”
“That is not what I worry about, my darling.” Feyd-Rautha placed his hands on the railing in front of you, leaning his chin on the top of your head as he looked out over Giedi Prime. “I am the heir to the Harkonnen throne.”
“You’re an important man,” you furrowed your brow. “What of it? Does that not guarantee me protection?”
“You are a target.”
“…na-Baron, I am a concubine, not a bride.” You scoffed. “There would be no reason for any political adversary to—“
“Feyd.” He growled.
“Wh-what?”
“Call. Me. Feyd.”
You gulped. “I-I’m sorry, Feyd.”
“Don’t…” he heaved a sigh, steadying himself. “Don’t apologize, darling.”
He was silent for a moment, and you weren’t sure whether to feel safe or uncomfortable.
“All of Giedi Prime knows how important my darlings are.” He continued. “You are safe when you are with me. But I cannot guarantee that safety when you are alone.”
Feyd-Rautha turned his head, leaning his cheek against you. It was an oddly intimate movement; in fact, the entire situation felt more akin to one that should take place with husband and wife, not murderous na-Baron and concubine.
“I am only a concubine,” you said again, voice small.
He barked a cruel laugh. “Is that what you tell yourself?”
You winced at the harsh sound. “It is the truth.”
“My darlings,” he began, his voice low, anger simmering just below its surface, “are much more to me than simple concubines.” He turned you in his arms, forcing you to lean back against the railing. “Surely you know this…or do you turn your nose up at me?”
You recognized the glint of anger in his eyes and felt panic rising. He couldn’t really think you hated him, could he? “Feyd, no…”
He gritted his teeth as he glared down at you. “The little off-world pet, too good for the likes of the barbarian prince…I know what the Great Houses say about me.”
His hands drifted down to grab at the thin fabric of your robe, grabbing it in bunches as he hiked it up. He paused for a moment and you realized he was listening, for your quickening breaths and heartbeat, and you watched as something in his eyes shifted.
“They call me psychotic.” He nosed at one of the bite marks on your neck. “What do you think, darling? Are they correct?”
“Y-yes, Feyd.” You stammered, both frightened and excited by the game you now realized he was playing.
He made a thoughtful noise as a hand slipped past your robe, fingers finding your swollen, used folds and plunging inside. “What else?”
“Th-they say you are bloodthirsty,” your breath hitched as his thumb brushed your clitoris.
“Am I?”
“Yes, Feyd,” you gasped at the addition of another finger.
A sick smile twisted itself onto his face. “What do they say about me on your home planet, darlin?”
“That you are v-violent,” you steadied yourself with a hand on his bare chest as your thighs trembled. “That you kill without second thought. That you are cruel and crave violence with every breath.”
Some of it you had made up; truly, you had never heard anyone on your planet speak in great length about the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. In fact, most people on most planets probably didn’t even know who he was. But for the sake of his ego, and for the hand between your thighs to continue its work, you exaggerated, and it worked. Despite a long day of fighting and fucking and enjoying spice, Feyd-Rautha was awake, attentive, and ravenous.
“And what does my darling think?” He asked, rubbing your clit as he twisted his fingers inside you.
“I-I think—!” You gasped, eyes wide at the sensation, wetness pooling around his hand, “Feyd—!”
“Answer me,” he purred, amused.
“I think that you are all that and more!” You blurted, tears pricking the edges of your modified eyes.
“Good pet,” he caught your lips in a kiss and focused his efforts on your clitoris, allowing and encouraging you to reach your peak on his hand.
And you did, of course you did. You always finished with Feyd, oftentimes before him. As your orgasm overtook you, he breathed you in, devouring you in his adoration.
As you came down, he leaned back, pulling his hand away and watching your flushed face as he licked the taste of you off of his fingers.
“Delicious,” he rumbled, looking at you with a hunger in his eyes.
Then, he placed his hands on your shaky hips and turned you, and before you had even caught your breath, his cock was inside you for the second time that day. He squeezed your breast as he fucked you, pressing kisses along your spine that seemed far too gentle for the na-Baron, and again, you marveled at the way he treated his darlings.
“Do you see now?” He panted in your ear. “Do you see your importance? Only my darlings do this to me.”
Only his darlings made him so feral and so tame at the same time, because while he bit and tore and raged with you, he refused to truly break his favorite things.
“And you take me so well,” he growled, spending himself inside of you with a grunt.
Feyd leaned against you, pressing a kiss to your temple. You felt comfortable there, within the safety of his body. Nothing could harm you when you were with him; you were one of his darlings, and now, you were certain that he adored you.
“Come,” he said, pulling himself out of you and straightening up.
“Bed?” You asked as he easily swept you into his arms, carrying you back to his chambers.
“A bath,” he decided. “Then bed, with the others.”
And you smiled as he held you, so secure against his chest. Feyd-Rautha was everything you had said and more—he was a lover, as well, in his own way.
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btsgotjams27 · 1 month
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things you didn't say | jjk
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summary: with the recent interactions with jungkook, you try to downplay your feelings, but your friends encourage you to acknowledge your past and move forward.
✨ title: things you didn't say | tydk couple ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader ✨ genre/au: angst | ex-best friends to friends/lovers(?) ✨ rating: R/18+ | ✨ word count: 7.3k | ✨ playlist ✨ warnings: minor language, lana threatens oc with a fork, drinking, game of truth or dare, confessions, kissing ✨ a/n: hii--i'm sorry i've been a bit MIA in regards to writing. it's been such a struggle to get anything written. i've been thinking a lot about these two and i hope this last part gives us all some kind of resolution. enjoy. (and there's a small nod to something that'll happen in a different jk wip i'm working on hehe). and if you haven't read part one or two, please do so before reading this part.
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✨ read part one | read part two ✨
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The clock is nearly midnight, and you’re not ready for the magic to disappear.
All night, you’ve kept your heart at bay, questioning every move and word being spoken. Only you can see it, but a dark cloud is looming over you. Doubts linger like a predator waiting to pounce and take its prey. You want to avoid getting it wrong or being let down.
And your heart is the ultimate betrayer, but it doesn’t lie.
You’re caught up in sentimental memories from the past. His nose scrunches and boisterous cackles are reminiscent of the boy you remember. Hanging out and reliving past adventures felt like no time had passed, yet life updates from then to now made him feel like a stranger.
Giggles and claps, along with snorts and dribbles of wine, glide down the side of your mouth. The third wine bottle is on its way to being destroyed by the pair of you.
He’s careful to avoid the subject of Josie, for which you are grateful. If you could be honest, you would ask him why he was still with her and what he saw in her. But it’s not your place, nor are you in the position to pry.
Your eyes fall on the plants sitting on the corner shelf in the dining area—an array of pothos, snake, and rubber plants. They’re your typical plants, but it’s the planters that they’re sitting in that make you smile. The planters have stubby arms and legs with smiley faces.
Jungkook follows your gaze. “What are we looking at?”
You point to the planters. “Those little guys. They’re cute.”
“Thanks,” Jungkook says. “I made them.”
“The planters or the plants?”
He swirls his wine glass, letting out a small laugh. “The planters.”
“You made those planters?” You stand, walking over to them. 
“When I get bored, I try new creative outlets and ceramics was one of them,” he says, taking a sip of wine.
“Wow, you have a knack for things like that, huh?” You pick up a planter, inspecting it before setting it down. “You could open up your own Etsy shop or something. People would buy these in a heartbeat.”
“Eh, I suppose. I just like doing things with my hands. It makes me feel useful.” Jungkook shrugs. He watches your every move as you continue eyeing the different ceramic pieces he’s made: vases, candleholders, etc. “Do you think people would buy the things I make?”
You lift a coiled vase, turning to him. “Are you kidding me? People would eat this shit up. Once your pieces sell like hotcakes on Etsy, Urban Outfitters will slide in your DMs.” You’re not surprised Jungkook easily excelled at something like ceramics. He’s always been talented at anything he picks up.
“And you were good at anything creative when we were in school—art class, wood shop. I would’ve failed wood shop if you didn’t help me finish my project.”
“Yeah, your birdhouse was fucking terrible.”
You scoff, walking toward him, playfully shoving his shoulder. “It wasn’t that bad.”
He deadpans. “Even birds would avoid your birdhouse.”
“Shut up! I tried my hardest.”
“Didn’t try hard enough,” he teases, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a grin on his face.
The pair of you continue to bicker about nothing, but the constant buzzes of notifications from his phone are hard to ignore. You’d catch Jungkook peering, tapping his fingers, debating if he should reply.
You sip from the bottle of dessert wine, you find it sweet and refreshing on your lips. “If you need to get that, then don’t let me stop you.” 
Jungkook lifts his phone. “Nah—it’s nothing,” he protests before his phone vibrates in his hand. He glances at the illuminated screen and he finally picks it up. “Sorry, let me answer this. I’ll be right back.”
He hurries out of the kitchen and into the darkened living room. You can only hear Jungkook’s stern, hushed voice, but you can’t make anything out. His change in demeanor hints at one person, and it’s Josie. Which meant it was your cue to leave. You’ve overstayed your welcome.
You raise your wine glass, gulping the golden honey peach Moscato. Thank goodness they’re easy to guzzle. A drop runs down the side of your mouth, and you swipe it away as Jungkook walks back in.
“I’m so sorry about that.”
“Hmm? Oh—don’t worry about it. I, um, I’ve probably overstayed my welcome, so I should get going.”
“What? No, stay. We have to finish our Moscato.”
A nervous chuckle leaves your lips as you contemplate his proposition. There’s a tug in your heart, wanting to stay into the early hours of the morning, but there’s your brain telling you to take it slow and go home.
“I wish I could stay, but I should head home. I have a load of laundry to fold and sadly, it won’t fold itself.” You stand up from the bar chair, feeling a bit wobbly on your feet. Jungkook rushes to your side, gripping your waist, but you catch yourself by holding onto the counter.
“You can’t hold your liquor?” He asks with a wide grin, pulling you upright.
Clearing your throat and flattening down your jeans, you spit out, “Ha-ha. I can hold my liquor just fine. I merely tripped.”
Jungkook chuckles. “You’re a terrible liar—see, I still remember that.”
You gasp sharply, with a hand over your chest. “I’m surprised that big ‘ol head of yours can remember anything. I thought it was only filled with games and girls.” Sticking out your tongue, you conk him on the head with your knuckles.
“Ow.” He rubs the spot as if you had knocked him with a bat.
Taking out your phone from your pocket, you pull up Uber.
“Let me take you home, at least.”
You give him a look, slowly blinking your eyes at the devilishly handsome friend. Could you even call him a friend again? Maybe it was too early for that.
“Did you forget that we both had too much to drink tonight? So, you shouldn’t be driving me. It’s fine, Kook. I’ll get an Uber.”
Jungkook sighs, knowing he can’t convince you otherwise. “Fine. I’ll wait with you outside until it gets here.”
“Well, it’s not like I can stop you.”
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The pair of you are sitting on his front steps, watching cars drive by and cats strolling through the neighborhood. His place is in a newer part of town, one that was built while you were away. It’s familiar and odd, just like you and Jungkook. As much as you want to forget the past and move on, there’s a part of you holding onto what the two of you had. Would you ever become best friends again? Would you even consider letting him be a part of your life? Those were questions for another time, but it felt like you had your best friend back, even if it was just for tonight.
As the alcohol in your system dwindles, the brain fog becomes clearer, along with your hearing. A nudge from Jungkook makes you come back to reality. “Hmm?”
“I asked, ‘Do you still go stargazing’?” He chuckles, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I do, but the spot I went to during college isn’t as good as the one we used to go to.”
Jungkook hums, avoiding your gaze as he picks up a small pebble from the ground. “We should go there sometime,” he mumbles under his breath. He continues toying with the pebble before throwing it into the bushes.
You’re trying to suppress a smile and swat away the butterflies growing in your stomach. It’s dumb to think things could go back to the way they were. It’s unrealistic and you don’t want to get hurt again.
Turning toward him, you want to set the record straight. “Let’s um, take this whole friendship thing slow, Kook. Dinner was great. It was nice talking to you again, but you do understand where I’m coming from, right?”
He nibbles on his bottom lip and nods. “I’ll follow your lead.”
You check your phone again. The Uber is two minutes away. As you click it off, you turn and see Jungkook staring. Something is brewing behind those starry eyes. With a raised brow, you ask, “What?”
“Can I call or text you sometime?”
“Just don’t, uh, go texting me all day and night. Your girlfriend might get jealous. Might even put a bounty on my head,” you tease, reaching to pull his black CK cap over his face.
He takes his cap off, carding his hand through his hair before placing it back on his head. As you’re immersed in your phone and looking up at the street for your Uber, Jungkook silently observes you like has for the past few years. Some might say it’s a red flag, but how else was he supposed to know if you were happy? That’s all he’s ever wanted—for you to be happy, loved, and have all your dreams come true, even though he wasn’t there to cheer you on. For seven years, he has been tormented by what he did, and he didn't want to jeopardize any possibility of any kind of relationship with you. It doesn’t even have to be like before, just as long as the two of you are on speaking terms. He could live with that.
A dark sedan pulls up alongside the pair of you. You grab the door handle, pause for a moment, then turn back to Jungkook. “We’ll talk soon?” He raises both eyebrows and hums softly, giving a thin smile. “Bye, Kook.”
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Two weeks passed, and there was no text or call from Jungkook. Plenty of thoughts ran through your mind, the number one being Josie had found out about your little dinner and locked him in a basement, cutting off all contact with the outside world—especially if it was with you.
But you’re a big girl. Why should you be waiting around to hear from him, anyway?
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If there’s one thing you hate about adulting, it’s cooking. You missed the days when you were in your angsty teen phase, headphones in, and hating the world, then your parents would yell ‘Dinner’s ready’. And as much as you missed home-cooked meals, you loved that your parents were off gallivanting around the world, living their retirement dreams. One day that’ll be you, living off your retirement and eating out 24/7, but for now, there’s a decision to be made about what will go in your salad for the week.
Cucumbers.
Strolling in the veggie section, your eyes scan for the green vegetables before landing on them. You stood debating on which one to get. Why are there so many varieties? But according to Google, Persian cucumbers go great in salads.
As you grabbed a second cucumber, you looked up to see the man who betrayed your trust. And no—it wasn’t Jungkook. It was his roommate, Jimin, aka ‘the trickster’.
With a stomp in your step and a cucumber in your hand, you march over to him, striking him on the shoulder with it.
“Ow!” Jimin exclaims, rubbing his shoulder as he turns around. His brows furrowed, lips in a full pout when he finds you standing behind him. “What the hell?” He looks to see the weapon in your hand. “Did you just hit me with a cucumber?” You hum. “Why’d you do that?”
Tossing the cucumber in your basket and crossing your arms, you huff out, “Because you deserved it!”
“Deserve what?”
You roll your eyes at the not-so-innocent man. Was he trying to play Cupid or something with you and Jungkook?…Because his stupid plan kind of worked. You truly had a great time at dinner, and it was nostalgic, just like how things used to be.
“Mmhm. Count your days, Park,” you quip, turning around to head in the other direction. Jimin’s calling after you to wait for him, but you keep on walking.
As he catches up, standing beside you, he nudges your arm. “Oh, come on. I was just trying to help a friend out,” he finally admits.
“Well, don’t.”
Jimin strides in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey—” You attempt to go around him, but he’s unrelenting. “Just hear me out, okay?” You sigh, waving for him to continue. “I’m sorry I ambushed you, but it was the only way you’d hang out with Jungkook. I know the two of you had shit go down in the past, and I just wanted to help you both move on to being friends again.”
“Why does it matter to you?”
“Because,” he pauses and straightens his back with his chin up. “I like you and I like Jungkook, and who wouldn’t want to see their friends be happy, hmm?”
Jungkook’s laughter echoed in your mind. You knew it was dumb to miss something as simple as a laugh, but you had heard it for so many years, and then it stopped for a long time. It felt nice to have a piece of an old friend back.
Jimin gives you a look and a grin sweeps across his face. There’s a satisfaction behind that grin and you wish you could wipe off.
“You’re lucky you’re cute, Park Jimin,” you say, stepping off to the side as a customer rolls by with their cart through the two of you.
He laughs, showing off his pearly whites. “I should check out and head off—don’t want you to start getting any ideas and start a food fight here in the grocery store.”
“Yeah, you should run.” You pretend to grab the cucumber and watch him run off to self-checkout.
A buzz from your back pocket alerts you of a notification and, to your surprise, it’s a text from Jungkook. It looks like he hadn’t forgotten about you.
Jungkook 1:34 PM Hey. I’m throwing a small dinner for Jimin’s birthday on Friday at 7 pm. Say you’ll come.
You 1:35 PM Define small.
Incoming Call Jungkook
“If I come and it’s a big party like last time, then count me out.”
“Hello to you, too.”
“Right—hey. No, but seriously. I’m not a big crowd kinda gal.”
“Including me and you, there would only be six people. That’s not a lot, right?”
It’s not, but you’ll have to save your social battery for the dinner party.
“No, yeah, that’s fine.”
“And don’t worry, you know everyone—Lana’s going too.”
The big question is: will Josie be there?
A beat passes and you realize you’re standing in the middle of an aisle, probably blocking someone’s way.
Jungkook’s voice comes through your phone, calling your name a few times. “Hello? Hey. Are you still there?”
You turn to make sure no one’s around. “Yeah, sorry. I’m still here. Is, um, ‘who-shall-not-be-named’ coming?” You ask, nibbling on the inside of your cheek. It’s a name for fuck’s sake, but you can’t bring yourself to say it.
He chuckles at your subtle attempt to avoid the Josie topic. “I can promise you that she’s not coming. Is that why you’re hesitant to say yes?”
“Pfft–what! No!” you blurt out, lying through your teeth. Truth be told—yeah, it is. You don’t want a repeat of Jimin’s party.
You clear your throat, “Anyway, yeah, I’ll come. Count me in.”
“Cool! See you on Friday.”
“Can I bring anything?”
“Nope–just yourself. Oh, and it’s a surprise, so don’t say anything to Jimin.”
“‘Kay…sounds good. I’ll see you Friday.”
“Can’t wait to see you,” he said with enthusiasm before hanging up.
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As you’re mixing the salad, you’re staring absent-mindedly at the abstract painting that’s framed on your wall because those five words rang in your ears on the drive home.
You mumbled those words in different tones, trying to make sense of the innocent expression. It’s completely normal for Jungkook to be excited. He hasn’t seen/hung out/talked to you in almost seven years. Yeah, that’s it—at least it’s what you’re telling yourself.
Lana waves her hand in your face. “Um, hello! I don’t think you can mix the salad anymore!”
Looking down, a few springs of leaves have been tossed out of the bowl and onto the counter. Oops. You pick them up, throwing them in the garbage bin. “Sorry—I was distracted.”
“Clearly.”
As you push the bowl aside, your focus is on the unopened bottle of wine.
“Are you going to tell me what’s distracting you, or should I wait until the wine settles in?”
“You can wait until the wine settles in. It’ll give me time to forget about it.”
Lana picks up a fork, threatening you with it. “I swear to god if you don’t tell me—”
“Okay, okay. The other day, Jungkook called to invite me to Jimin’s dinner party.” Lana narrows her eyes and hums, intently listening. “At the end of our conversation, he said, ‘Can’t wait to see you’, and he seemed excited.”
She nods her head, waiting for the rest of the story, but you don’t say anything else. “That’s it? God–that’s so boring. I thought you guys kissed or something.”
“Lana!” you cry out, almost knocking over the wine bottle.
“What? I thought he would’ve made his move by now.”
You roll your eyes. “There’s no move to make. He’s with Josie, remember?”
“Josie Schmosie—she’s old news, but you,” she points and grins, “You’re back and here to fuck things up,” she claps with a gleeful smile.
“Oh, will you stop it? I’m not back to do anything—and what the hell, Lana? You’re not helping!”
Lana chortles, covering her mouth. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sure what Jungkook said to you is just a simple expression of how much he can’t wait to see you and get you underneath his sheets.”
You sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t even know why I bothered you with this.”
“Okay, I’ll stop. I promise—just kidding. Can I ask one more thing?” You wave your hand for her to continue. “You’re telling me you don’t even want to revel in the idea of the two of you being something more than just friends?”
The iciness of the tiled counter becomes apparent underneath your fingers, and you’re faced with a question you never wanted to answer—aloud, at least. Considering that he’s tried breaking up with Josie multiple times, but somehow is still with her, you’re unsure what will push Jungkook to cut off the head of the snake.
You hate that Jeon Jungkook has been—scratch that—is your Roman empire. He’s the one thing you’ve come back to even when you didn’t want to. It’s the same three questions you’ve had: Is he okay, is he happy, does he miss you too?
And if you’re completely honest, the answer is yes. Of course, you’ve reveled in the idea of you and him.
“I don’t know, Lana. I mean yes—the thought has crossed my mind. I’ve liked him since senior year, but it takes two to tango, and Jungkook can’t do that right now. Besides, I won’t wait around for him to come to his senses.”
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, that’s the expression, isn’t it?
You can’t imagine going through another heartbreak from the same boy.
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Things happen in life that don’t make sense.
Especially for the price of a pair of earrings, you’re currently looking to purchase as Jimin’s birthday present. The sales associate senses your hesitation and brings out a similar pair that’s on sale.
“Ah—that’s more like it. I’ll take those and do you still provide gift wrapping?” you ask, looking at the sign you saw on the way in.
“Yes, we do. Let me go into the back and wrap it up for you.”
The associate disappears through the back door, probably to talk shit about you to their co-workers, but hey–a girl has to save money where she can. It’s a fragile economy.
You roam, looking through the display cases of bracelets, rings, and watches. A gold Casio watch catches your eye–it looks like one Jungkook used to wear. He treasured the vintage-looking watch because it was his father’s. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen him with it when you saw him. Maybe he lost it or replaced it with something else.
Either way, you continue eyeing pieces of jewelry you’ll never purchase for yourself, and it’s when you look up to catch a glimpse of a girl you recognize. But it’s the man marking her neck that isn’t your ex-best friend. You’ve locked eyes with which she-who-must-not-be-named, and maybe it’s not too late to pretend you didn’t see her.
The sales associate returns the wrapped gift along with your credit card. You quickly thank her, looping your arm through the gift bag. Your eyes scan everything in view to see if the coast is clear. There’s no sign of your enemy, so you dart out of the store only to find Josie and this mystery man looking at the window display at the neighboring boutique.
Fuck, just go on your way and don’t engage. Don’t engage! You say to yourself, swiftly walking past them.
You’re busy berating yourself to hear someone calling your name. Stopping in your tracks, you sigh, waiting for Josie to catch up.
“Hey!” Josie chirps like the two of you are friendly.
“Hi…” you say glumly, with furrowed eyebrows. She’s never been nice to you before, so why should you start now?
“Can you not tell Jungkook what you saw?”
You tut, blinking your eyes at her like you owe her a favor. “Look Josie—what you do doesn’t concern me, okay?” you say, walking past her. It’s been a few weeks since you last saw her and she’s cheating on Jungkook with some guy? God, if only you could smack him upside the head right now—Josie too!
You’re a few steps ahead before you stop in your tracks and turn, walking back to her. You huff, “Tell me one thing. If you’re off with some guy behind Jungkook’s back. Why are you still stringing him along, then?”
Josie looks at you, ready to answer, but you raise your hand, stopping her. “Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”
As you walk off again, there’s a revolting feeling in the pit of your stomach having to keep this to yourself. Jungkook deserves to know the kind of person Josie is, but it’s not your place to say anything. You’re not his best friend anymore. Honestly, you’re unsure what the two of you are and sometimes, there are some things you just shouldn’t say.
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Whenever you think about seeing Josie and that mystery man, it makes you want to gag, and throw something at the wall, but mainly at her. Who knows how long she’s been cheating on Jungkook? You tossed and turned in bed, debating whether you should say something to him.
The dinner party is tonight, and if you happen to be alone with him and the Josie topic comes about, then you’ll mention it.
Another thought crosses your mind, what if he thinks you’re making this up because you’re jealous of Josie? Ah, fuck. Either way, you’ll turn out to be the bad guy, right? You’ll either break his heart or you’ll sound like a jealous person.
You don’t want to ruin whatever the two of you have, because you’ve missed the comfort of an old friend and you don’t want to lose it again.
Even though you know the code, you don’t press the four digits. Instead, you knock, waiting for someone to open the door.
“Hey!” Jungkook says, eyes dropping to your hands. “I said you didn’t have to bring anything.” He takes a step back, letting you through, and grabbing the box of Soju.
“I know, but Lana always says, ‘Don’t go anywhere empty-handed’,” you say, flashing a small smile.
“Ah, well, the Soju will go great with tonight’s menu.”
The aroma from Jungkook’s cooking is immaculate. You can almost taste the different dishes he’s prepared.
“Oh my god, it smells so good–like how your mom used to make food for us all the time.” You walk over to the dinner table, displayed with grilled meat, japchae, tteokbokki, buddaejjigae, and a plethora of banchan. “How is your mom? I miss her and her cooking.”
Jungkook chuckles softly. “She’s doing great. Her cooking, though? Not so much. It’s become too salty for my taste—Don’t tell her I told you that.”
You rub your hands together. “Oh, you bet that’s the first thing I’ll say after giving her a hug.”
“Don’t! She’ll disown me. She already hates that I’m a better cook than her,” Jungkook says, opening the box of Soju.
“You should become a private chef or something.”
He opens the refrigerator door, placing the Soju to chill. “Nah—I’ll just cook at home. I’m still learning, testing the waters, y’know?”
“I hate you.”
His eyes perk up with concern. “What did I do this time?”
“You’re good at everything you do—it’s unfair to the rest of us peasants.”
Jungkook relaxes at your answer, thinking he did something wrong again.
Placing the last Soju bottle in the fridge, he turns back, scanning you from head to toe. You’re dressed in an oversized Linkin Park band tee and jeans. He recognizes the shirt, the one you wore religiously during your emo teenage years.
“What? Is there something on my face?” you ask, touching your cheeks.
He shakes his head no and clears his throat. “I, um, wanted to talk to you...about something.”
“Oh?” Your eyes and ears perk up, but you’re interrupted by a commotion coming from the front door.
“The birthday boy is coming! Hide!” Lana says in a hushed tone. She rushes over to you, crouching down behind the counter, pulling you down with her. You chuckle, shaking your head.
With the front door open, Jungkook’s other roommate, Namjoon, walks in first–hand in hand with his girlfriend, and then following is the birthday boy.
Lana peers above the chairs to see if they’ve come in. “Surprise!” She cries out. Everyone’s ears must be ringing at this point.
Jimin gives a half-smile along with a chuckle. “Lana, you ran past us in the driveway.”
Her mouth turns into a cheesy smile. “You caught me. Sorry, I kind of ruined the surprise.”
“Happy birthday Jimin,” you say, walking over to him, arms out for a hug.
“I’m glad to see you and Kook have made up,” Jimin utters. “He needs someone like you around.” He pulls back, squeezing your arms before letting you go.
Namjoon and his girlfriend, Nora, greet you and Jungkook and then take a seat at the dinner table.
You look at Jungkook. “We’ll talk later?”
He hums in agreement. “Yeah, later.”
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You’ve missed this—hanging out with old friends. It’s fun to be around people who you’ve known for a long time. You remember Namjoon being a senior when you were a freshman and the stories you’d hear about him—prom king, valedictorian; he did it all when he was in school. And Nora was the perfect woman for him. They’re both working toward their doctorate in philosophy. Their IQs were the equivalent of yours, Lana, Jimin, and Jungkook’s combined.
“Wow, I feel unqualified to be sitting at this table,” you say jokingly. Being an HR specialist was never the plan, but you’ve come to enjoy your job because you like to think you’re a good judge of character when it comes to hiring.
“Let’s stop talking about work, and have some fun! After all, it is Jimin’s birthday. How about a game of Truth or Dare?” Nora asks, looking around the dining table to get some confirmation. “I need verbal consent, please.”
Everyone glances at each other, awaiting answers. There are various responses, and everyone agrees to play.
Nora claps with a joyful squeal. “Okay, Jimin gets to ask first since it’s his birthday. Choose your victim, and anything’s fair game!”
There’s a groan from you and Jungkook. You have a feeling this night will become interesting.
Jimin rubs his hands together and then points to each person. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…” He continues the rhyme, and you know he’s itching to choose you or Jungkook, and his finger lands on Jungkook.
“Oh-ho-ho. Please pick dare, or I’ll make you answer something you don’t want to,” he says, playfully sticking out his tongue.
Jungkook narrows his eyes at his devilish roommate. “Don’t test me, Park. I can make your life a living hell, too.”
“Ah yes, I’d like to see you try.”
Your heart’s racing, and your hands are sweaty while gripping the chair’s armrest. Jimin has always been sneaky, and you’re sure he’ll make Jungkook kiss you.
Everyone’s waiting for Jungkook’s answer. He groans before replying, “Fine. Dare.”
Both Lana and Nora let out muffled squeals while you’re holding your breath.
“I dare you…to say something dirty to ____.” Jimin grins from ear to ear, staring at you.
You knew Jimin would be unrelenting when it came to you and Jungkook.
Turning to Jungkook, you say, “If you’re uncomfortable, don’t do it. It’s just a dumb game.”
“Hey! Nora said anything’s fair game and my dare is completely harmless. I could’ve asked you to do something else, but I didn’t,” Jimin refutes.
“It’s fine,” Jungkook says with a scowl. Turning to you, he leans over. His breath is warm against your ear, goosebumps are trickling on your skin, and your hair is standing on its end. He whispers, “You look so pretty—wish I could do this forever.”
“Hey, hey, hey! You’re supposed to say it aloud for everyone to hear,” Jimin protests.
You visibly gulp, returning to a straightened position in your chair. The ten words he said shouldn’t affect you, but it does. The room has grown warmer and you’re practically melting like butter in a hot pan. It’s just a silly game and you’re so over Jimin and his antics.
“Your dare was ‘to say something dirty to ___’. You didn’t specify if it was a whisper or if I had to shout it from the rooftop,” Jungkook chirps, quickly glancing in your direction to make sure you’re okay.
Jimin glares at Jungkook with a blaze of a thousand suns. “It’s implied that you say it out loud so everyone can hear.”
Lana elbows Jungkook. “What did you say? How dirty was it? Like, give us a rating, PG-13, R, NC-17?” He doesn’t answer her, but she looks at you, pointing her fingers to her eyes and then back to you, indicating that you’ll tell her later.
“I’ll let it go this time, but from now on, no whispering, and everyone has to hear what everyone says,” Jimin demands, awaiting confirmation from the group. “Okay, Jungkook, it’s your turn.”
He turns to Lana and bluntly asks, “Would you ever sleep with Jimin?” Jungkook peers at Jimin because he knows that Jimin’s had a crush on Lana since high school.
Lana’s mouth twists before answering, “Yeah, I guess.”
Jimin scoffs, offended by her response. “You guess? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know if you’re any good in bed!”
“And I don’t know if you’re any good in bed!” he chirps back.
“Please—I’ll be the best sex you’ll ever have,” she jeers, crossing her arms.
Jimin stands. “Oh yeah? Prove it.” He retorts, raising his chin in defense.
Everyone ‘oohs’, staring at the two like they’re in a stand-off.
“Prove it! Prove it!” Nora urges, pounding her fists on the table.
Namjoon fakes a laugh, muffling his girlfriend’s pounding. “I’m sorry. She’s had too much to drink. Don’t listen to her.”
Jimin leans forward, hands on the table. “Yeah…prove it.” He raises an eyebrow, wondering if Lana will back down or take on the challenge.
“Right now?” She tilts her head, scanning him from head to toe.
He shrugs. “Mm, what a shame. I guess you’ll never be able to prove it,” he says with a tut.
The chair legs squeak when Lana pushes herself to stand. “When’s the last time you got tested?”
“A month ago,” Jimin quickly replies like no one else is in the room. “I’m clean. You?”
“I’m clean too. You got condoms?”
You sink in your chair, wiping your face, watching these two go off on each other. Honestly, you can’t believe you’re witnessing this.
“Got a whole box ready for you.”
Lana marches over to Jimin, grabbing his hand. “Well, come on birthday boy.”
Your mouth drops, watching the two-run upstairs. “They’re not gonna fuck, are they?” Lana has been in a dry spell for the last year, so you don’t blame her for wanting to get laid.
“Yeah, I think they are,” Jungkook answers. “Yah—” he turns to yell toward Jimin’s room. “Keep it down, will ya?”
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The rest of you continue the game, but they’re just questions to get to know each other.
“Jungkook, if there’s one thing you could take back. What would it be?”
He looks in your direction, then plays with his Soju glass, spinning it a few times. You’re biting the inside of your cheek, eyes bouncing from him and then to Nora and Namjoon.
“Um, I’d go back to the day I broke ___’s heart—take everything back.”
The couple looks at each other, forcing a fake laugh. “Well, I can sense the tension between our friends here,” Nora says. “Joonie, baby, didn’t you wanna show me that thing in your room?”
Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow. “What thing?”
Nora stands, tugging his hand, and drags him down the hallway to his room. You can hear the two bickering before the door closes.
You’re silent. Unsure of what to say. You want to move forward, but the past keeps haunting you. Will it always be like this with you and Jungkook? And certainly, there are things you didn’t say that you should say now, but what’s the point?
“We should clean up,” you say, picking up a few plates to stack them. Jungkook follows your lead, helps clear the table, and walks over to set them in the sink.
Turning on the faucet, you rinse off the plates. Jungkook leans back against the kitchen island, eyes scanning over you.
“I meant what I said earlier.”
You close your eyes, then breathe out a sigh. Looking at the boy who used to be your best friend. His eyes hold the galaxy and you get easily lost in them. You’re an explorer longing to find the next big discovery. It’s right in front of you, but at a moment’s notice, you might lose him like you did before.
“Kook…we were kids back then, and you can’t change the past.” You continue to wash the dishes, but it’s hard to focus when he’s near.
Jungkook reaches to turn off the water, gently squeezing your arm to look at him. “Yeah, I know, but I can try to fix it now, right?”
Your hands grip onto the sink, your eyes focused on the water dripping from the spout. You fixate on Jungkook’s words. How can he reconcile a friendship he tore apart? And for what? A girl?
He calls your name, breaking your focus. “Talk to me.”
There’s a tightness in your chest as you turn to him. “Fix it? I don’t want you to fix it.”
“O-kay…then tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”
If it was only that easy.
You close the distance between you, looking at him. “What do I want?” He hums. “I want you to be broken. Wrecked—just like how I was. It took me years to get over you—our friendship. I hate it, Jungkook.”
“I hate what I did to you—”
“No,” you say, shaking your head. “You don’t understand, Kook.” Your heart is aching—like someone reached in, squeezing it as hard as they can. 
“Then explain.”
Your eyes meet his. “You. Own. Me,” you say, your index finger pressing into his chest with each word. “These last few weeks have been excruciating. I don’t know who I am when I’m around you. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that I’ve moved on. You’ll always be the one thing that I’ll never be over.”
Your heart is pounding, and every inch of your body is burning to the touch. You didn’t think anyone could ever make you this livid. But as much as you want to hate him, moving back home simply confirms everything you’ve been attempting to hide for the past seven years—you love him.
“I was hurt, too. You don’t think I was?” Jungkook says softly, lifting your chin so you can meet his gaze. “I was devastated, knowing how much I hurt you. I couldn’t eat or sleep for days. Seeing and talking to you every day and then it just stopped. My world was falling apart, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I watched you go off to live your life while I was stuck here with you, haunting me everywhere I went. Philz, the damn grocery store, the park–you were there. There was no escaping you. So yeah, I was wrecked and broken, just like you.”
The narrative you created in your head of Jungkook and Josie was something out of a fairytale. Boy meets girl, they fall in love and live happily ever after. But according to Jungkook, it was hardly the case. You haunted him as much as he haunted you throughout the years.
Chuckling to yourself, you think about how this could've been avoided if one of you had just spoken up. Stepping back from him, you take a breath to calm your nerves. You lean back against the sink, arms folded. “Can I ask you something?”
Jungkook’s eyes flick to you and his body mirrors yours. “I’m an open book, ___.”
“Why did you give up so easily? Why didn’t you fight for me? Our friendship?”
A beat passes, and he doesn’t respond. It’s foolish to think he’d have an answer for you.
Your lips thin, and you breathe out a sigh of frustration. “It’s fine, Kook. Don’t answer. We’ll just go back to the way things were. Have a good life.” You walk off toward the living room and he follows.
“You don’t get to walk away,” he says, shutting the front door when you try to open it.
“Yeah? Watch me!” You turn back to the door, attempting to open it, but Jungkook’s hand is holding it shut.
He grips your arm. “I was scared, okay? I was young and stupid, and scared.”
You turn around and push him back. “Scared? You’re still scared! That’s why you can’t even break up with Josie! She’s cheating on you, by the way! I saw her with some guy glued to her neck. I don’t understand why you can’t just let her go.”
“I’m not scared of breaking up with Josie. I just got comfortable with her being around and didn’t think I could do any better.” Jungkook steps back and reclines on the couch’s armrest.
“You don’t think you can do better than Josie? You’re Jeon Jungkook, of course, you can.”
He forces a laugh, shaking his head no. “I barely graduated high school, practically failed my college classes. I don’t have a steady job and I have no idea what I’m passionate about. So yeah, I didn’t think I could do any better than Josie, until…”
“Until…?”
“Until I saw you at the party. I know it sounds cheesy, but when I saw you standing in the living room. It was like a sign from the universe, waking me up from this auto-pilot life I was living in. Seeing you again really shook me up.”
You could say the same thing about seeing Jungkook again. The universe loved to toy with the two of you, didn’t it?
“And then after our dinner two weeks ago, I broke up with Josie–like officially. I gave all her stuff back. I’m not answering calls or anything. So, I guess when you saw her, she must’ve moved on to the next guy–that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, me breaking up with her.”
There was a sense of relief when he said that because you were ready to fight Josie.
“Oh,” you say softly, taking a step toward him. “I guess I was wrong about you—being scared, I mean.”
Jungkook’s toying with his necklace, circling it around his neck. “I’m still scared.” He steps toward you, waiting for you to look at him. “I’m scared I’m gonna mess this up,” he says.
“How are you going to mess this up? We’re just friends.”
“That’s the thing. I don’t want to be ‘just friends’.”
Your gaze flicks to him and then drops to his lips and back up again. You know what he’s alluding to, but you need to hear those words leave his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He knows you’re teasing him. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”
“Yes.”
“Because I love you, okay? I’m in love with you. Have always been in love with you, and I’m scared to lose you again.”
Your eyes are glossy, fighting back tears. You’ve longed to hear those words from Jungkook, and like him, you’re afraid of an unknown future, but right now, all that matters is him.
As a tear falls down your cheek, you’re ready to let love in. Let him in. Discover new things. Rediscover old things. You’re ready to be vulnerable, move forward from the past, and let go of the heartache and pain.
“I’m sorry,” you breathe.
Jungkook steps toward you, cupping your face. “No, no, no. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
You shake your head. “No, I do. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for you–for our friendship. It’s my fault too.”
His thumbs caress your cheeks. “Hey, can we agree to let the past be in the past and just focus on us now, in the present?”
Your hands cover his, and you nod, flashing a soft smile. “Mhm. I’d like that.”
Jungkook wipes your tear-stained cheeks. “Now, can I do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time?”
“What’s that?”
His lips finally touch yours. It’s not fervent or haste. It’s soft, uncertain. But you kiss him back. You’re savoring each point of contact. His lips overlapping yours, capturing a hint of your cherry Chapstick. Your eyes are half-lidded and you pull back for air, but he leans in, bringing you back in for more. His nose bumps into yours as he turns his head, deepening the kiss. Your body presses against his, your fists balled up, tugging on his white t-shirt. There’s a glow of excitement and nervousness rushing throughout your body when one of his hands grips your waist and the other is on the small of your back, pushing you further into him.
A low whine leaves his lips when you withdraw. He reaches for another kiss, but you stop him.
“Kook—” you whisper as his forehead touches yours.
“I don’t want to stop kissing you,” he says, kissing your cheek and tracing your jawline. “Don’t think I can ever stop.”
You chuckle. “I don’t want to stop kissing you, either. Maybe we should take this to the bedroom?”
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While lying in bed next to Jungkook, you simply enjoy each other’s presence. Your fingers trace stars across his chest and you love how he breathes–his chest rising and falling ever so softly. The sound of his voice vibrates through your fingers and into your body. With one arm wrapped around you and the other resting behind his head, Jungkook tells you about the dreams he had but never dared to pursue–you being one of them.
And as the clock strikes midnight, the magic of you and him didn’t dissipate. It’s here. It’s real.
671 notes · View notes
lyssasdrafts · 1 month
Text
ENCHANTED — azriel x reader
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includes: strangers to lovers, love at first sight, autumn court!reader, lucien and eris being protective brothers
“i’ll spend forever wondering if you knew, i was enchanted to meet you.”
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azriel felt out of place. he knew he didn’t belong here, trying not to give it away as he kept adjusting his new coat. he didn’t know what to think of being dragged to this formal event — a party at the autumn court.
he wasn’t here to make friends, he needed to come with rhys to gather information, to be allowed to sneak into the autumn court’s palace. no one here needed to know about his upbringing or what he’s done, though it was hard to ignore the way people stared at his illyrian wings.
rhys would be here too, but he was busy keeping track of eris and the high lord to help azriel navigate this. this was his job, he was a spy.
the autumn court felt lifeless, even if it was your home. sometimes you’d wondered what it was like outside these four castle walls. a part of you was excited for this ball, even if you’d been told they were typically boring. it had took a lot of convincing for them to let you out, and you still had your older brother by your side. “stay close to me, y/n,” lucien insisted, “and tell me if you need anything.”
azriel’s eyes had met yours once he walked into the room. he let himself stare for a moment too long at how graceful you’d looked. he suddenly starts to hear his own heartbeat before he starts thinking about the person standing next to you, it clicked after he heard the way you were addressed and how you called lucien your brother.
rhys whispered in his ear, “there’s another vanserra?” and azriel shook his head. how come he’d never heard of you? or worse, had the chance to meet you? with rhysand’s nod of approval and the wink his friend gave, he approached you.
“i didn’t know you had another sibling, lucien.” his shadows seemed excited, and he tried to keep them quiet. he looked right into your eyes, ignoring the person he was even addressing. “i didn’t know beron had another child…”
“he’s not fond of me,” you say to break the tension. you blinked a few times, taking in the figure of the man in front of you.
you’d never left the autumn court. you watched as your older brothers were allowed to leave to wherever they wanted, how lucien would run off to the spring court with tamlin, while you had to stay and tend to the castle.
if this is what people looked like in the other courts, you were missing out.
azriel reached his hand out to you, his voice softened, “then may i have this dance with you?” you looked at your brother, pleading in your eyes to let you have this night, and he nodded. something felt like he’d trusted that azriel was a good person. he mouthed something about being careful and to go.
you thanked the mother, knowing that your father or anyone else from the court would’ve turned azriel away immediately. you took his hand and smiled before he lead you away.
locking your fingers together, his other hand reaches your waist before the music starts again. you were impressed; you could tell he wasn’t experienced with dancing in a ballroom, he didn’t have the same training you did, his movements were stiff and his steps were careless. but you could see that he was trying his best to move along with the music, his shadows dancing around too.
“so,” he began to talk over the music, “tell me, why haven’t we met before?” the question he’s really been wondering.
he had to pull you in closer for the dance, not missing the opportunity despite his nervousness. you responded, “i’ve never left the autumn court, unfortunately. where are you from?”
“that’s a shame,” he says quietly. “i’m from the night court, here on our behalf. you should pay us a visit.” he spins you around and you’re caught off guard by the last part.
he catches you, though, and holds you by the waist. “i promise we’re more interesting,” he chuckles.
you almost laugh at him, except you give him sidelong glance instead. “i highly doubt that,” you defend, but your tone says otherwise.
“then let me show you,” he mutters. “what’s your name, beautiful?”
you freeze again, taking a moment just to stare at him. the way his hair was parted but got in the way of his face, how his gaze felt like he wanted more than just to look at you, how he his hands were around you, making you drawn to someone in a way you haven’t been before. and he was calling you the beautiful one?
you cleared your throat, “it’s y/n,” before you add a smile.
he nods at you, the secret autumn heir. he repeats your name and watches your reaction, seeming amused when you look up at him again. you can feel rhysand and your brother’s eyes on you, they were watching you thoughtfully from a distance. did you seem interested in azriel? were you getting close with him?
he notices you tensing up, grabbing your hand again and continuing where you’d left off with the music. azriel twirls you around once more, except this time he missteps, stepping on your foot instead. you winced, “do they not give you dance lessons at the night court?”
“i’m so sorry for that,” he stops, standing still in front of you. “you could probably tell it was my first time…” he softens again, “are you hurt?”
“your foot barely touched mine, it’s okay,” you laugh. you’ve definitely seen worse princes and suitors. “i should talk to your high lord about those lessons, then.”
“they do offer them…” he starts. “it’s just… not part of my responsibilities.”
you blink at him. someone with a connection to the royal line who hasn’t gone to these parties? “what is your job there?”
“i’m the night court’s spymaster.”
“spymaster?” you repeat in a whisper, tilting your head.
his shadows surround the both of you, almost trying to make this moment feel more intimate. you thought about the excitement he must feel, being able to sneak off and go wherever he wanted. you know it wasn’t an easy job, but a part of you envied that his life was probably full of mysteries and exploits. perhaps that was how azriel already came across your brother before you’d met.
you wanted him to stay in the desolate and empty autumn court for longer. you wanted him for yourself. a possibility sparked in your eyes and you looked at him with some kind of disappointment. did he have someone waiting for him at the night court? was he already taken?
in that moment, you wished to the mother and the cauldron for nothing else, but for you to be able to have this. even just a moment of freedom and openness with this… stranger.
he’d slowly felt entranced by you too, wanting to learn everything about you. how did you feel being kept a secret? did you want to see the night court… with him? he wanted to hold onto you tighter, as if beron decided he’d had enough and wanted to take you away.
“my brother… he’s probably waiting,” your voice sounds flat. azriel hadn’t realized how much time passed, how many steps you’d travelled around the ballroom during your conversation before you had stopped.
“y/n,” you hear a sharper voice calling for you. it wasn’t lucien, who you could try to convince with a pleading gaze and sulk, it was eris. he had stepped in to cut your night with azriel short.
“i think they want me to go back,” you say. “and your own high lord is probably waiting too.”
“will i see you again?” you try not to sound desperate. this feeling had been one that you’d never thought of before in all your sheltered years living at your family’s expense, a puppet for the autumn court. you’d felt flustered, like you were a child again, for the first time. there was an eagerness, like the thought of romance had brought back your hope.
azriel’s frown matched yours, you noticed the flash of disappointment in his eyes. he hesitantly pulled his hand away, “thank you for dancing with me, it was a pleasure, y/n. i hope you know you’re always invited to the night court. i will talk to rhysand to—” he stops himself. “i really hope i can see you again, too.”
his shadows were dispirited, looking sad as they left you. azriel he bowed his head at you, grabbing your hand and placing a last kiss.
you stop him before he walks away. “i never asked—” you say. “what’s your name?”
“azriel,” he gives you one last wink. “azriel shadowsinger. i hope i’ll see you around.” a smile at the thought of you escaped from him.
“shadowsinger,” his name leaves your lips. you whisper it, recalling the image of him in your mind. you didn’t know how long it would take for you to see it again, or if you ever would, but mother-blessed you wished to.
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“it was enchanting to meet you.”
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emmyrosee · 9 months
Text
You’ve been… needy, today.
Normally, Kiyoomi is immune to it, if anything, he embraces your clingiest of affections and he takes them with ease, but today, for some reason, you’re nuzzling and nudging at him with every little thing, your eyes curved into a sad pout every time he looks down at you.
It seems like you’re insatiable, you’re on a craving for a fix you can’t seem to get, and he’s fairly certain you’ve almost cried at him a few times for that little bit of affection you can’t seem to get enough of, and normally Kiyoomi can read you like a novel, front to back.
Today, it’s almost like you’re a different person- no longer able to voice their needs, but plead for him to figure it out. Someone who doesn't seem to trust him, but still eggs for assurance and validation.
And he doesn't know why, but he can't pinpoint it this time.
He's exhausted every avenue, he's does everything he can think of, every question he could ask has either given him no answer or another needy little choke in your answer. He doesn't know, okay, he's trying, but he doesn't want to just ask you point blank because there's a part of him that feels like he should know.
There's also a glimmer in your eyes that tells him that he should figure it out.
Finally, for whatever reason, you stop.
Now, you're creating distance, and he hates this even more than you trying to crawl into his skin.
At least then, you still wanted him.
"I'm going to shower."
Your voice cuts him out of his detecting, snapping him from his thoughts as he nods encouraging at you. If he didn't feel like it would end in a fight, he'd cheesily ask if you wanted him to join you, but the question dies when you spin on your heel to leave him in the bedroom, alone.
He needs to know. He has to figure it out.
There's a buzzing of his phone that snaps him out of his pity party, and enthusiastic text from Hinata about the new jersey designs. Something about how they need sizing and promo pictures, and they should all get together to plan.
At this point, Hinata couldv'e texted him about anything on the planet and he would've gone. In his head, he weighs his options of staying here and leaving the jersey talk for tomorrow.
Or leaving, and letting you both have some time apart to sort out your feelings.
He's barely able to think on it before his feet force him to get up and make his way to the bathroom, popping open the door to call to you.
He just hopes this works.
"Baby, I'll be back!" He calls, voice above the rushing water.
"Wait- what?" You call back.
"Hinata needs to steal me for a while to talk about our new jerseys, I should be back in a few hours."
"Kiyoomi-"
"I love you!" He says, interrupting you before closing the door and making his way out of the house. He hopes that some distance may calm whatever it is inside of you,
By the time he comes home, he's surprised to see the lights turned on.
Typically Kiyoomi can come home at any hour and find you in bed, asleep, clinging to his pillow, but tonight, it seems you either forgot to shut everything down, or you're still awake.
Maybe if you're awake, you'll be able to sort out whatever happened today before going to bed.
When he walks in, the house is quiet. Scarily quiet.
"Nice of you to show up."
Yeah. You're up. And you sound bored.
The house is still active, but rather than make a dash for him to leap into his arms for affection, you're instead on the couch, eyes heavy and face sad.
After a whole day of trying to cling to him and his every move, now you're willing to be sedate?
He sighs and walks to meet you in the living room, and whatever angry look you try to pull gets demolished by the wobbling of your lip. “What’re you still doing awake?”
You turn to look up at him sadly, tears swollen in your waterline as you blink at him expectantly. “I missed you.”
He smiles at your words before shrugging off his jacket and folding it over in his arms, “I missed you too, baby. How was your night?”
“Quiet.” Your lips twitch as if you want to say more, but no other words fall from your lips. He gives you a small chuckle and scratched the back of his head.
“That’s… exciting,” he offers. You shrug. The tenseness in the room makes him want to throw up, he’s not used to this coldness from you- typically, you’re throwing yourself at him, especially with how you were acting earlier, but now you seem like you couldn’t care less about him. "Did you do anything?"
"Nope."
"Oh..."
"Where did you go?"
He shrugs, "Hinata and Bokuto wanted to talk about the new jerseys and the plan for practice tomorrow; then we got dinner and had some drinks."
"And you didn't think to text me? Not once?"
Chills run up his spine as your question comes with an emotioned voice crack, "I... I guess it slipped my mind... I'm sorry."
"Mm."
He swallows thickly, but his pounding head desperately wants to call it a night. “Why don’t we go to bed, baby?”
“You go ahead, im gonna get some water.”
He smiles and nods as he makes haste to the bedroom, happy facade dropping once his back is towards you. All he wants right now is to curl up next to you and knock the rest if the day away, praying that you're in a similar headspace.
He all but tears off the clothes on his back, dressing into far more comfortable wear as he goes to wash his face. Usually, you're right next to him, butting your head against him, nudging him to the side so you can join him, or youre sitting on the closed toilet seat just to watch him.
You seemingly have no interest in doing that tonight.
By the time Kiyoomi's done, his stomach churns as you're still not in bed, surely it hasn't taken you more than two minutes to get some water, and with an exhausted, and almost annoyed groan, he shuffles back down the hall to see you.
You... you haven't moved.
“Hey,” he mumbles, rubbing his eye. “How come you’re out here? I thought we were going to bed?”
“You didn’t kiss me today.”
He didn’t?
“What do you mean?” He asks, stalking over to the couch. You shuffle over to make room for him, but your eyes never meet his. “I kissed you so many times today, baby.”
“No,” you snip. “You didn’t. I know, because I’m so used to you giving me kisses.”
“I’m... I'm sorry, I guess I just-“
“And you barely hugged me, either,” you sniffle. His brows furrow and instinctively, he tosses an arm around your shoulder to try and calm you down. “Any time I’d reach for you, you’d look at me like I was some nuisance, and make me feel bad for needing the affection.”
“Of course you’re not a nuisance!” He says, rocking you both. “God, fuck baby, I’m sorry, I thought you just needed some more attention than usual and I just-“
“I’m not done.”
A wave of nervousness shudders down his spine, but he pulls back slightly to give you your room to piece together your thoughts. Had he really been that neglectful today?
“You didn’t even eat dinner with me; you went out with the boys. I was in the shower, I didn’t even get a kiss goodbye- you called out a quick ‘love you!’ and went off doing whatever it was you did tonight. You didn’t call, and you didn’t text, and I was home alone, thinking that I did something wrong.”
"No wonder you’re upset- I’m sorry, baby. Whatever I did today wasn’t a reflection of how much I love you; I just got a little busy, and I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ll do better tomorrow.”
You completely deflate. God, what has he done?
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” he says sweetly, planting a kiss to your temple. “I never, ever wanted to hurt your feelings, and I’m sorry I did.”
You’re quiet. There’s a strange feeling of dread in the air. The longer you pause, the more he feels the anxiety settling in the pit of his soul.
"You really don't know why I'm mad...?"
He chokes on his own breath, "I... I didn't know you were mad..."
You hiccup in sadness, and he feels like he can't breathe.
The clock on the tv changes to 23:59, and you sigh sadly.
“Happy anniversary.”
You stand up without a word, letting Kiyoomi’s head fall forward along with his jaw. He looks at you in absolute terror, all while you face away from him, hugging yourself in an attempt to comfort yourself.
Oh, God.
Oh, God.
The room is shrouded in suffocating silence, smothering anything Kiyoomi could say before he could even think of the words. Dark eyes dart over your frame. He feels sick, he could throw up on this rug right now, if he had anything to even puke up. Your shoulders heave, and he’d rather chew on broken glass covered alcohol before ever wanting him and his neglect to be the reason for your distress.
“I forgot,” he blurts.
No shit.
“I know you did.”
“How… could I forget?”
“You tell me.”
“I-I-I-I set so many reminders, how did I…”
“It doesn’t matter,” you snip, turning on your heel to stalk back down the hallway to your bedroom. “You forgot. And the day is over. It doesn’t matter.”
It does, he wants to argue. It matters, because you matter to him, and he abandoned you on a night that is so sacred to him, the day you crashed into his life and made him realize that whatever he was doing that put you on the road to him, was exactly where he wants to be.
He looks down at the clock on his iPhone, as it creeps over the 45 second mark, and he darts down the hallway. He runs like he’s being chased, like he’s on fire, and you can’t hide your noise of surprise when he bursts into your bedroom and tosses gangly arms around you and plants kisses all over your face.
He holds you so tight you could pop, and he sponges all the kisses he can over your neck and cheeks, and he hears you trying to fight back a giggle, and it only eggs him on to continue.
“I love you,” he pants. “I love you, I love you so much, every day I’m grateful for whatever being is watching us for putting me on the road to you. I don’t know who I worshipped right to be here, but I’ll be damned if I let my own stupidity sabotage that.”
“Kiyoomi,” you say, voice delicate and trying to stop itself from breaking. “You forgot. I just wanted... I wanted you to show up. You couldn't even give me that."
Now it's his turn for his lip to wobble.
You sniff sharply, "just forget about everything, I don’t care anymore.”
“But I care-“
“Clearly, you don’t,” you snap, trying to squeeze out of his grip. “I don’t have the energy for this right now. Let’s just go to bed.
“I’m not about to let this go.”
“Neither am I, but my demons need to rest.” Your eyes dart at his alarm clock, “yours too, apparently. Tomorrow you’re getting sized for jerseys- hopefully you didn’t forget that other important thing.”
Your words sting him sharply, even if he deserves every single one of them. He reels back slightly, gnawing at his lip as he tries to think of ways to fix this, fix the way you’re looking at him and feeling, fix the clear hole he’s singed into your heart.
You curl up into your side of the bed, pulling the blankets high, and he doesn’t know how long he does it, but he just stares at you. It’s like he’s waiting for you to scream at him, or cry, or do something that he should feel even more shitty for.
But it doesn’t happen.
You sniffle a few times, shuffle once or twice, and he doesn’t know just how long he’s been standing there until your breathing turns rhythmic and peaceful for the first time today. Your shoulders rise and fall, back facing away from him and god, he feels like such a loser about to lose the greatest thing that's ever happened to him.
Probably because he is.
You're going to leave him. You're going to see just how much he takes you for granted, how much more you're worthy of and how much more love anyone can give you- even if you still wanted to stay in the jackals, and he wouldn't blame you for shifting your love to someone like Hinata or Meian for a second.
A cold breeze smacks Kiyoomi in the face as, at some point in his spiraling, he ends up outside, keys jingling in hands and hoodie pulled messily on top of his head. His legs seem to know where he's going, even if he doesnt.
His legs take him everywhere that could possibly be open right now, there's no store with a three mile radius that he hasn't bought out between candy, chocolates, a few stuffed bears you'll adore, and three or four types of pizzas and sushi dishes each.
He doesn't care about the strange looks the cashiers and other patrons give him. He cares about trying to remember if you prefer sour or normal gummy bears. He cares about remembering if you like plain pizza or toppings.
He also cares about the way this pillow won't sit the hell up.
He cares immensely about the way the chairs from the island in the kitchen have no grip to them, and refuse to keep the blankets strewn across them up.
And fuck the knitted blanket draped over the lamp and top of the couch, because it refuses to stay the hell up and he's had to make at least four mad dashes to catch the falling object.
The fifth, naturally, crashes to the floor, and he can only sigh in defeat as he continues to fix the fort for the nth time.
"I'm armed," your voice yells from down the hall.
He chuckles, "no you're not."
You groan in annoyance before padding down the hall, and he turns his head to acknowledge your exhausted arrival.
“What’re you doing, Kiyoomi?” You ask, knuckling your eye. “It’s one in the morning.”
“It’s 12:23 pm on the east coast in America.”
You cock a brow, and he blinks simply before turning back to his blanket fort. He feels your eyes boring into his skull, but he ignores it. He’s busy.
“Uhm… thank you for the fun fact?”
“It’s 1:23 yesterday.”
“…and?”
“Komori is on the east coast,” he says easily, tongue poking out in focus. “Somewhere, I don’t really know where, I don’t know American geography. Which basically means a part of me is on the United States east coast. So, by the transitive property-“ he stands up and presents the messily made fort. “We still get to celebrate our anniversary.”
You smile sadly at his efforts but your bottom lip wobbles all the same, “kiyoomi, you forgot. Just drop it, okay?”
“No.”
“Kiyoomi, I’m tired-“
“I bought us some pizza,” he interrupts, lifting the reusable bags positively stuffed to the brim with other treats. “And i got those sour candies you like for some reason, but I picked aside all the ones you hate so you can just eat them in confidence-“
Your eyes glimmer in slight excitement.
“And-And-And I’ve got our favorite movies queued up, ready to go, but there’s a new playlist filled with love songs that I found-“
“Kiyoomi-“
“And god we haven’t danced around in months, do you remember the last time we danced? It was like… well, months.”
You giggle, and he brightens at the sound. He takes a soft sigh to calm down, “and I just… I know how bad I am at showing it.” He stands up and makes his way towards you, and when he cups your cheek in his hand and you mewl at him, he could cry from that alone. “But you are the only thing that matters. My only exception to any rule I could make. And I couldn’t give you the bare minimum, on the second most important day to do it.”
“Second?”
“If I forget your birthday, I need you to leave me,” he chuckles nervously. You slowly walk up to him as if timid and unsure, and when he opens an arm to ease you into a hug, he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding as he squeezes you close. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“I know,” you assure. There’s a comforting silence between you both, your cheek nuzzled into the dip of his sternum before you hum.
“Can I go with you to size jerseys tomorrow?”
“I’m not going to get my jersey sized tomorrow,” he says without missing a beat. You tense up in his arms, and before you can protest, he shushes you and cups the back of your head to keep you close. “They will live for one day without me. It takes four minutes tops. They will get over it.”
“But-“
“No buts,” he says, pulling back and looking down at you.
“But-“
“No.” He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss to shut you up, soft and familiar but just enough to keep you calm for him. You purr into the kiss and let your hands wander around his torso, fingers fisting the fabric of his night shirt tightly.
The fingers on your head gently fists the hair at the nape of your neck to keep you grounded for him, and the whimper you pant against him has him in euphoria.
“Thank you,” you sigh against his teeth. He shakes his head before pulling back slightly.
“Don’t thank me… not when I made you feel anything less than the love of my life.”
You chuckle and gently tug the waistband of his sweats. “I know you’re trying to make up for it, now.”
“You do?”
“How many men are gonna stay up, figure out the time zones in America and pick sour grape from my bag of candy just to try and fix a forgotten anniversary?”
He laughs and pulls you in for another hug, one tight and secure and as close as he can get you to snap any broken pieces together.
“I really am trying… I promise.”
“I know you are.”
3K notes · View notes
dizzyjaden · 2 months
Text
✧ GENSHIN MEN CRUSHING AND CONFESSING ✧
Pairings: Kaeya, Xiao, Tartaglia, Kazuha, Diluc, Albedo, Scaramouche x gn! Reader
♤ Summary: Hcs for how various characters go about crushes~ ♤ Warnings: No major warnings mostly fluff, Scara's kind of a jerk though. ♤ A/N: Omggg first real post! Reblogs would be greatly appreciated <3
Kaeya:
When Kaeya meets you, he is first enamored with your appearance. Therefore, the route he takes is confidence and directness to flirt with you, he never once hides his attraction. His sultry voice and brief comments about how infatuating you are to him tend to extract these wonderful little giggles from you. The sound never grows tired on his ears, nor do they fail to make his heart swoon.
Kaeya does not realize it at first, but your effect on him becomes stronger swiftly, and makes him rather clingy. He finds himself unable to focus on the tasks of the day and merely looks forward to seeing you. He follows his urges and seeks you out, passing through your most frequent spots in hopes of 'accidentally' bumping into you. When he finds you, he will spend as long as he can stalling for your time. Asking you questions about your day, showering you with compliments, whatever he can do to keep you talking to him without appearing too desperate. He would usually see idle conversation as a bore, but anything is interesting as long as it's your voice that's talking about it.
It's natural to be wary of Kaeya's approach. While his flattery is nice at first, you notice that his inviting posture and half-lidded gaze does not disappear when he is speaking to others. It makes you wonder if you are as special to him as he's led you to believe.
Put off by this, you brush off his efforts. He is confused by your indifference and his demeanor begins to melt rapidly. He seems nervous now when the two of you are conversing, even blushing and avoiding eye contact with you. Being rejected by someone isn't what scares him. Being rejected by you is.
It is noticeable, people often tease you about what a lovesick puppy you've turned him into, snickering about how they've never seen the slow walking, smirk wearing, calvary captain of Mond so stuttery and fidgety around anyone. It is difficult to stand firm on your previous notion that "he is just that way with everyone." Perhaps he does deserve a chance after all.
Kaeya has mostly retired his earlier mannerisms with you, not wishing to make you uncomfortable. That is until, you throw an unprompted flirtatious comment towards him.
It is experimental and casual on your part, but it successfully shakes him to his core. He realizes then and there he cannot let another day pass without you being named as his partner. This routine of playful flirting is as far as he would typically take it when interested in someone, it was the most enjoyable part to him anyways. But with you, it just felt torturous and drawn out. He craved so much more.
As assured as he appears on the surface, Kaeya is not very good at expressing himself romantically. He does not want to risk everything just yet, so he believes the best course of action is simply asking you out for drinks.
You are still not entirely sold that Kaeya will take care of your feelings, but you agree out of curiosity and give him the chance to prove you wrong. He is overjoyed at your answer and becomes rather excited, he quickly has to catch himself and snap his careless attitude back on, but you saw his eagerness.
For a while you are testing the waters with Kaeya, keeping him taking you on little dates and you are quick to learn that there is a lot more to him than meets the eye. There is a certain serenity, a content air about him when you are together, as if he felt everything had fallen into the right place. The way he looks at you is different than when you first met. It feels as though he truly sees you now.
Finally, you are the one to offer a romantic relationship to him. He has been waiting for you. He knows you have been hesitant, so he's intended to allow you to harness control.
His answer is not a word or agreement, but rather a glint of joy in his eyes, quickly followed by a kiss. When you reciprocate, he knows he finally managed to snatch your heart. How thrilled he is for tomorrow.
Xiao:
Loving you to Xiao is similar to being a cat on a marble floor. He is completely unacquainted with emotion as a whole, so when this stomach tightening, face warming, posture stiffening feeling begins to hit him, he is justly at a loss.
He absolutely despises the feeling, to him it translates as nausea or sickness. Why, you gave him an ailment! How dare you! And to think he still yearns for proximity with you.
That is another thing he despises, ever since you met the adeptus you are always begging to spend time with him and he just can't help but agree. You seem to find much comfort in his presence, he isn't sure why. His conversational abilities are stale, his tone pessimistic, his liveliness is nonexistent. Mortals have never connected with him the way you have, which only makes sense because it's absolutely fruitless.
But there you are, always asking him questions about himself that confuse him. Why did you need to know his favorite color? He didn't have one. They were colors, useless visuals.
You are a strange mortal, and so easily charmed or manipulated as well by the smallest of things. Perhaps that's the reason he ends up taking on such a protective role to you. He is always worrying himself sick about you. A pure spirited person like you is just bound to find themselves in trouble.
Despite the amount of inconvenience you cause him, he finds himself feeling so privileged each time he gets to be around you. He's aware mortals often express gratitude for one another, and his way of doing this is by giving gifts.
They are small gifts, flowers, leaves that are intricately folded into three dimensional shapes, crystals, whatever makes him think of you, really.
He doesn't expect validation for his attempts and the way you react each time catches him off guard. All smiles and hurried words of gratefulness, sometimes you pull him into a tight lung crushing hug, which he just hates of course. But he'll allow it. You're only putting yourself at risk choosing to be so close to him.
Something about you makes him need more of you. Every day he finds himself wondering about you, if you will come find him. He catches himself watching from the rooftops of Wangshuu Inn, waiting. Hoping?
And you're always right on cue. This gives him a sense of stability and routine, which was never important to him before. But now he feels safe in a way. It makes no sense to him, he's protecting you, not the other way around.
It takes him a long time to consider the possibility that he does enjoy your company, that this ailment, this curse you've put on him, is actually just his emotional response to you being nearby. When he identifies it, he isn't sure what to do with it. He's aware that humans like to put labels on each other to signify their connection, but he knows so little, he's too unwilling to ruin what is already there. Friendship with you is better than nothing, even if he feels the urge to just attack you with physical contact each time your hand grazes him.
He takes his time opening up to you about his feelings and desires, dropping small tidbits to enlighten you when you speak to one another. You manage to figure it out before he's really given you a proper confession, but you want him to work through it slowly, so you say nothing until the day he finally outright says it.
"I believe I am... Falling in love with you. So, what happens now?" Hopefully, you're willing to guide him through it?
Tartaglia:
Tartaglia really never expected to become so obsessed with you. His initial interest comes from your abilities in combat. He enjoys sparring with the people that are more similar to him in strength, it helps him improve. You're perfect for this. An equal opponent to help him boost his own abilities is all he saw at first.
What he feels during these sessions with you is pure thrill. He sees your relationship as equally matched opponents who agree that there is nothing to lose and everything to gain. Fighting you is never predictable, you are strangely good at catching him off guard. He becomes easily addicted to the feeling of freedom that comes with fighting you, the ability to let go accompanied by the trust that you could hold your own even if he did take it a bit too far. Soon enough, he's borderline pestering you for more and more matches.
Something he slowly finds out is that the two of you share a specific chemistry. The trust you build on the battlefield with one another fuels your comfortable compatibility. Being around you is just easy. The first time his feelings for you begin to rise, he notices immediately.
Just a certain angle of you, and he... Felt something. He knows it, too. This is when his pursuit for you begins. It is rare for him to have free time, and the majority of that is already occupied with your sparring sessions. So, he has to sacrifice a few of those to instead ask you to spend time with him in a more casual way.
He demands you clear your morning plans to get coffee with him, and you agree. Why not? You don't know much about Tartaglia other than his go-to defense techniques.
But oh, how hopeless he is. Tartaglia has never had a romantic partner before, too consumed in his work to care all that much. He gives you horrendous pick-up lines the entire morning until you beg him to stop. He thought he was doing so well, too.
Fortunately, you're more skilled with words than him and you manage to bring the flow back by distracting him with topics you believe are of interest to him. He is comfortable around you, and prefers casual conversation, so he will indulge. Slightly embarrassed by your reaction to his crude attempt at flirting, he decides it may be best to leave it be the way it is.
Determined nonetheless, he continues to hog your calendar with little meetings, he is transparent and unimpressive, which thankfully comes off as quite adorable to you. You've never seen him in this light before. You enjoy teasing him. However, there is only so much he can take before he has to finally state that he is in love with you, and needs to know if you reciprocate.
Begrudgingly, you accept his feelings, although you are disappointed you no longer get to keep him on his toes, his victorious smile makes it worth it.
Kazuha:
Kazuha is the textbook definition of carefree, when he develops feelings for you, he immediately accepts them and continues to live on contently. Whatever happens, happens! His behavior around you does not change in the slightest aside from going out of his way to be near you. Other than that, it's almost unnoticeable.
His reasoning for not confessing anything to you is plain and simple. He does not wish to put you in an uncomfortable position when he is not sure if you even want the same things he does. He isn't scared of being rejected or losing you, he just genuinely does not want to stress you out. He doesn't want to apply pressure to you, he just wants to bask in your radiant existence as much as you'll allow him. No worries, being just friends is good enough for him if it means you can live undisturbed by his inconvenient feelings of affection.
Kazuha has always been in touch with his emotions, more so than the usual person. He subtly expresses his feelings for you with poems and words of affirmation, he likes to make sure you know exactly how wonderful you are. But he never oversteps or puts too much of a spotlight on you.
Because he is just a romantic at heart, it's easy to assume this may just be how he expresses friendship. He's aware that he comes off that way, which is another reason he's so willing to give you so much affection and praise. He does like you, and he wants to show it, but he knows it's not out of character for him to behave this way.
Where his feelings for you really shine through is how protective he is. He doesn't like the idea of you travelling anywhere alone and usually offers to accompany you everywhere. He has faith in your capability to defend yourself but he finds comfort knowing he will be there if needed.
Kazuha always has good ideas when it comes to spending time with you, they are likely to involve nature. He knows where all the best places are, hot springs, water falls, fields of flowers, certain spots where the sunset looks just perfect, you name it, he'll take you there.
He enjoys giving you his attention, but even just being in the same room while the two of you are focused on separate tasks is equally enjoyable to him. He likes that there is never awkwardness or tension between you. Just an easy companionship. You understand one another without trying.
Kazuha only confesses his feelings to you when he's certain you want to hear about them. Whatever way you may choose to let him know, he'll act fast to ensure there is no confusion. He sees no thrill or excitement in allowing you to remain oblivious, and is very content telling you directly when he feels you have given him enough hints. It almost feels too easy, which is exactly what he intends. He doesn't want to see you struggle with your own feelings for even a moment.
When Kazuha officially enters a romantic relationship with you, he takes the transition very slowly to keep you comfortable. He does not immediately start smothering you in affection. It's a slow and steady process. It's not that he doesn't want to kiss you at any given moment, he just prefers that you take the reigns in that area so he's always certain it's what you want to do.
When you are with Kazuha, you can always trust that he will listen to you and cater towards your emotional needs. He is just so in love with you.
Diluc:
Diluc grapples with his feelings for you for a while, assuming they will just come and go. He is not the most knowledgeable about relationships and worries about his ability to be a good partner to you even if he does act on his feelings.
The idea of romance isn't something Diluc is a stranger to, but it's never been on the forefront of his mind. Charming and handsome as he is, it is only natural that he's been approached in the past by people hoping for a chance with him. He's never explored with any of those people, it just wasn't something he really wanted to do. But, you changed things. He catches himself imagining a relationship with you, wondering what it would be like to be with you in that way. The longer it goes on, the more painful it becomes.
When he's no longer able to deny his feelings, he takes a very polite demeanor. He's truly a gentleman, it's difficult for you to remember the last time you opened a door for yourself in his presence. If you happen to visit Angel's Share, you can rest assured you're never going to have to pay for anything.
Getting complimented by Diluc is rare, truthfully he just doesn't know how to phrase things. When he does compliment you, however, it's always genuine and heartfelt. Something about your manner, the way you carry yourself, your resilience, things like that.
Ensuring you are safe is the most important thing to him. He will always voice it loud and clear if he believes you are in an unsafe situation. He doesn't want to cross a line so he will only help if you ask him to. If you do happen to need his help with something, he will have it taken care of very quickly.
Diluc does not care to give you sugary compliments or be vocal about how you make him feel. He is more subtle than that. His affection for you is shown through how he remembers little things about you that might go unnoticed to anyone else, reminds you that he is there for you if you ever need him, never fails to show up for you when you do.
It takes a while for Diluc to gain the courage to tell you how he feels, but when he does get fed up pining after you, he is careful with his choice of words. He wants you to know that even if you reject him, he will still be there for you no matter what. You not reciprocating his feelings for you will not change your importance to him.
He genuinely does not expect you to reciprocate his feelings. When you do, he isn't sure what to do. He didn't have that part planned. He becomes a flustered mess on the spot but ultimately manages to pull himself together and swears his devotion to you.
Adjusting to a relationship with you seems to come naturally for Diluc. While he's internally awkward and so unsure most of the time, he becomes comfortable with you quickly as he realizes you do not judge him for this whatsoever. He is satisfied and feels secure knowing that there is nothing to prove anymore.
Albedo:
Albedo is not head over heels with you right off the bat. It takes a long time getting to know you before he feels anything. Of course, there was always something unidentifiable about you that interested him, but that's as far as it went until now. He isn't sure what exactly gave him this emotional response to you, but he's very curious about it.
Albedo is interested in humanity as a whole. He sees his emotions more akin to resources for his research rather than necessary tools to operate in society. So, when this crush on you blooms, it's an experiment to him. Obviously, he's going to need your assistance. He very boldly and plainly states that he is having these feelings and needs your help identifying and exploring them. It's the first time you've ever seen him clueless.
Explaining the concept of having a crush to him is nearly impossible. More often than not, crushes come out of the blue with no single explanation for them. Something about this he just cannot wrap his mind around.
It's a mission, but Albedo eventually gets it. Love, a sensation he had always pinned on biology seems to be much more emotional and complex than he could have ever anticipated. He reluctantly accepts your embarrassed explanation as truth. When he learns that you reciprocate his feelings, he is confused once more. Why didn't you just tell him? Nervous? Why? He insists you tell him when you feel something significant towards him so you two can conduct your research easier.
Albedo often takes notes about how certain things you do makes him feel. When you hold his hand, his face gets warm. When you laugh, he feels as though he is in a trance and forgets where he is. When you respond positively to his affection, he's eager to do those things more. Everything you do elicits a new reaction from him, it's all worth writing down.
He loves learning new things about you. Now that you've managed to put him in this position, it's like you are the most interesting thing in the world. What makes you the way you are? What crosses your mind the most? What is it about your favorite things that you like so much? Tell him everything in excruciating detail, please.
Albedo likes to share his interests with you too, when you offer to work with him on something involving alchemy, he is overjoyed. He likes to tell you about the ins and outs of everything involving life. He always wonders what you will think. Sometimes, you give him a new perspective on it that makes him reflect. He likes that about you. His work is usually rooted in science and logic, so it only makes sense that logical is the mindset he's lived with. But you bring such interesting ideas that he's never considered before.
He's realized he may be more out of touch with the world than he believed. If he did not know what love was before he met you, what else did he not know? Because of this, he will stay open minded and always consider your point of view when making emotion-related decisions.
For as long as you are with Albedo, he will always have something to learn and grow from. He sees you as very important to him in this way and will do his best to make sure you are content and happy in the relationship.
Scaramouche:
Scaramouche believes he has one purpose in this world. Divinity. If he is to invest himself in something, he better be getting one step closer to godhood in the process. His feelings for you are not necessary, he can't get anything of value out from them. That's the way he sees it. What irritates him is how badly he wants to indulge. Emotion is the very weakness that caused him to be cast out by his creator from the start. He isn't about to easily succumb to his emotion once more when his mission is the electro gnosis. But it is so very difficult to resist when you're around.
It's pretty much all up to you to initiate anything. It's challenging. The first time he saw your hand inching closer to his, he snatched it away immediately. Ever since these feelings of his emerged, every time you try to catch him when he's not busy, hoping to spend some time with him, he runs. He actually runs. He makes no attempt to hide it, either.
He knows if he spends too much time with you, his feelings will only grow. Allowing you to hold his hand or be near him is a slippery slope he's not willing to try. Why won't you just leave him alone? Why must you make it so hard for him to overcome his crush? Take a hint, already.
Eventually, you actually do take the hint and stop pestering him for his time. Good! Now he can focus on other things... Except he can't because now he's panicking over possibly having lost you. What if he hurt your feelings? No, he doesn't care about your feelings. You only ever annoyed him anyways. But for some reason thinking about it just stings.
Scaramouche realizes that one person causing this much trouble for him is absolutely unacceptable. You always being nearby was bad, but you leaving him alone is worse. He isn't going to allow you to steal his heart and then run for the hills, no way. He demands that you spend more time with him. You are flabbergasted, but he's glad to hear you agree.
Overtime, Scaramouche becomes more nervous about you. He grows attached to you and nearly everything he's grown attached to in the past abandoned him, it continues to haunt him to this day. He yearns for your affection, but having it would make the fall so much harder when you ultimately leave him behind. However, he's already so far in. He wonders if having a good thing for even a moment would be better than torturing himself over it instead.
With that, he tells you how he feels, how it's all your fault he's such a mess now, and that you need to make it up to him by being his partner. He's not surprised when you accept his feelings. It's the very least you could do, of course.
Over the span of your relationship, you'll notice how clingy Scaramouche is. It's like if you are not in his sight for even a moment, you're probably dead somehow. He'd never admit it, but you can tell he is paranoid and desperately requires reassurance. He's honestly kind of pathetic but he's yours.
Scaramouche remains unmoving on his theory that you will abandon him someday. He's been through it too many times to fully trust you straightaway. You're just gonna have to prove him wrong.
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