#the amount of trigger warnings when I’m not even going IN DEPTH about any of the shit I’ve heard is honestly concerning and talks for itself

[crooked-wasteland]

Hazbin Hotel Live Blog: Masquerade

So, been a few and we pre-gamed for this one extra special. I will be transparent in that I have a personal history with SA and quid pro quo sexual abuse as well as physical and domestic abuse. My partner has warned me prior on the larger portions of the shock value Medrano uses, but we both are not really sure how I will react to this.

Amazon has added an explicit warning for sexual assault to the episode that was not previously there. So good on them for that.

The audio between Keith David and Blake Roman feels like they were done in different parts of the world.

Tell not show. Husk just says all the things.

Angel Dust is shrill. I’ve never described a human being as shrill, but this vocal performance is shrill and I wish he never spoke again.

WTF was that animation as Charlie kicks her legs.

Valentino could be such an interesting character, but he lacks any depth.

So Charlie is just an idiot.

Blake completely loses the Angel Dust voice. He’s not even in character and the only thing he has to act with is his voice. You have to stay in character to be a voice actor.

The whole scene in the dressing room lacks any weight. Everything is so sudden and contrived. Charlie fucks up the shoot so Valentino has an excuse to abuse Angel Dust and it’s so obvious where the direction of events are going that it isn’t even emotionally investing. And it’s a testament to the fact that I was a pilot fan and invested in where Medrano would take the show to now saying I just don’t care.

“Just don’t hurt her” Where was the inclination that would happened. Angel Dust going off on Charlie was actually well written, but the fact that it is supposed to be seen as insincere ruins it.

The song has the most graphic depiction of sexual abuse and yet the whole message is confused.

Angel Dust is sexually abused and proceeds to Sexually harass Husk.

So Charlie ruined his day, but let’s blame Husk.

Why are we supposed to believe Husk is judging Angel Dust? He’s an alcoholic.

Angel Dust is living in self harm with his promiscuity and drug abuse, and that isn’t supposed to be who he actually is, it’s supposed to be his persona` to get by, but that feels like we are getting a whole new character introduced 4 episodes in.

Loser Baby is the worst thing I have ever heard musically and lyrically.

I stand by what I said about Loser Baby. It completely lacks any depth or emotional processing. It’s just two people who are making excuses for themselves and saying “well, I’m not the only one.”

So this is the shortest list I have because so much of it cannot be bullet points. Animation wise it lacks weight. The characters being hurt doesn’t feel real it lacks the sense of gravity needed for the violence to feel mature. This is less intense than Tom and Jerry. On the other hand, Blake Roman’s vocal performance is awful. He can’t keep his voice in character when he tries to have any amount of emotion, but the vocal deliveries that at least are in his character range are on par with Whitey from 8 Crazy Nights. It is ear splitting. Aside from that, the transparency of how Medrano is obviously ticking boxes to get to the emotional beats she planned, actual nuance and depth be damned. I just don’t care about what is happening, which actually is the only reason this isn’t so triggering. This episode revels in sexual abuse fetishism and it is equally as defensive about it. The signs pointing at Angel Dust are repulsive and to then have it set against the backdrop of “You aren’t alone so why bother changing” is appalling. I stand by the statement that this is group therapy without the therapy. The whole idea behind the group therapy setting is that you can learn from others on how better to help yourself, but this online generation has seemed to think that the group part was what made the therapy effective. In reality it is very easy for a group setting to become a cesspool of covert narcissism.

On the other hand, I don’t get how anyone could have thought this was about abuse of any kind. Because the whole episode treats sexual abuse as a joke from the beginning to the end. The only time it is taken seriously, it is whiplash. Angel Dust telling Husk how he wishes to become so ruined and broken that his abuser wouldn’t want him anymore is so heavy and abruptly serious when every other moment of abuse is either so cartoonishly done like the dressing room, or is played as sexy or a joke. It is a joke in the script from how poorly written the pornos are (which its shown Angel doesn’t want to participate in, but it’s made to be comedic so that aspect fades real fast) to how unimportant it is that Angel is literally attempted to be drugged.

And Charlie has officially become the worst character. I didn’t even see Charlie as a character, it’s very obvious where Medrano sources her inspiration. Just like how Lute is Peridot, Charlie is just Harley Quinn, except she has none of the charm and all of the annoyance. Which goes back to what I said before.

I think the worst part is that I don’t care. I really just don’t care because the characters just don’t care, and even when they do, I don’t know them enough to invest in them emotionally. This is not at all on the series being 8 episodes, this is exactly how I feel watching Helluva Boss, whom Vivienne is making a season 3 for as we speak. So the limitations are not why this series is so painfully shallow, it’s a reflection of a creator who lacks depth as a human being. Who has no life experience to draw from to really empathize with the characters and craft around it an emotionally visceral narrative. This is someone who lives their life as a simulation, pressing the right buttons, making the right choices to get the predictable outcome. If you told me Vivienne Medrano was actually a prototype android AI, I would believe you. This is how a computer thinks humans feel, even the abrupt changes in emotion is simulation of an AI program. Things move unnaturally fast in a computer, hours are like years in terms of social media. So I don’t think anyone is surprised that this feels like a script written and directed by ChatGPT.

This episode I didn’t find triggering. The episode itself does not affect me. What does trigger me is knowing the kind of person needed to make an episode like this in the first place. I don’t think anyone should necessarily be banned from telling any sort of story, but the byproduct of a machine and internet algorithms should never be allowed to tell human stories.

-20/10

#vivziepop critical #vivziepop #vivienne medrano #spindlehorse critical #vivziepop criticism #hazbin hotel episode 4 #hazbin hotel liveblog #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical

[animeomegas]

Who is the most needy while in heat?

I decided to write for a few characters for different categories: Clingiest, Horniest, Territorial and Requires Support. Enjoy~

Who is the clingiest:

1.     Itachi – Itachi has only ever had soft heats in his life(heats that are not sexually, but instead emotionally charged). He didn’t have his first heat until he was already part of the Akatsuki and didn’t feel safe enough for a proper heat. His health also isn’t the best, so his body knows to have soft heats rather than normal heats. Because he only has these types of heats, they are very strong. He feels a constant urge to be by your side, ideally with you touching him at all times. He can’t take suppressants because they mess with his illness, so he can’t minimise the effects. He spends the two days holed up in his room, the door locked and sealed shut. He won’t let you leave his nest much, growling and whining if you try. His instincts are screaming at him that he has to protect you and that you have to protect him. He can get a little addled and confused because the impulses are too strong. He’s extremely clingy in heat and he hates it. He always feels embarrassed afterwards.

2.     Izuku – Izuku is prone to crying and feeling very rejected if you neglect him during his preheat or heat. He feels the sting of rejection very strongly and feeling abandoned during a heat is… not good for omegas to put it lightly. It can make them sick if it’s serious enough. So, Izuku will definitely try and keep you in his nest as much as possible, asking wordlessly to be carried with you if you need to leave for a moment. Going to work or leaving the house during his heats (even when he’s on suppressants) is a no-no for him. He will do anything to get you to stay with him, including but not limited to hiding your keys, seducing you, and begging.

3.     Mammon – From the second he’s in preheat, he literally will not leave you alone. He’s very attention starved, but his slight tsundere tendencies keep him from acting on his need for affection. His heat and preheat remove the tsundere tendencies and make him even more desperate for attention. He’s hanging off of his Alpha constantly, following them around and sleeping in their room. He enjoys laying on top of them while they stroke his hair or rub his back. Will growl away anyone who tries to take you from him. If the growling doesn’t work, he’ll whine at you to stay with him because he knows you can’t refuse him when he’s like that.

4.     Kaoru – He doesn’t like how clingy he is, but it’s very uncomfortable for an omega to ignore their heat urges, so he doesn’t bother trying to resist it. He’s very prone to loneliness when he’s in heat or preheat, so he likes it if you’re with him as much as possible. He will spend most the time sitting on your lap, innocently and not so innocently.

5.     L – He isn’t particularly fussed about constant physical affection, but he wants you to be in the same room as him at all times. He constantly turns away from his work to make sure you’re still sitting in the room with him, and in the evenings, he likes if he can sit on your lap while he works. His heats are reduced from suppressants, and his libido is very low generally, but he still likes to make sure his alpha is safe and with him during his heat and be surrounded by his alpha’s scent.

Who is the most territorial during heat:

1.     Sasuke – Will straight up growl at anyone who gets too close to you both, and it won’t end well if someone shows up at his house when he’s in heat. Sasuke immediately views whoever it is as a threat and would likely try and attack them, especially if they were a stranger or someone he didn’t like. He is a lot less stressed during this time if you both just hole up at home for his preheat and heat. One of the reasons he makes his nest in a walk in wardrobe is because it’s an easily defendable place.

2.     Shikamaru – He has to have an arm around you or vice versa at all times. He makes sure you always smell like him during his preheats, just as a warning to other omegas. In heat, he gets very intense and caught up in the feelings, so interruptions from outsiders will be jarring and he’s likely to react aggressively.

3.     Shinsou – Is very paranoid when in heat and preheat. He gets nervous about people coming to try and hurt him and his mate while he’s weak, so he doesn’t like anyone he doesn’t know around you or him. Shinsou is fiercely protective of his family and his alpha. When he’s actually in heat, he would probably try to attack anyone who got too close.

4.     Belphie – Likes to just lay down and sleep with you when he’s in preheat, and whenever any of his brothers (or anyone else) try and get you to move, he growls them away, wrapping his arms around your chest to stop you from going anywhere. Would definitely bite someone if they were brave enough to try and remove him from you by force. When he’s in heat, he uses compulsion charms to keep people away from the attic where he likes to spend his heat with you.

5.     Diavolo – He can’t keep his hands or lips off of his alpha during preheat, but not just in a horny way, mainly in a ‘they’re mine’ kind of way. He likes to show off his relationship to others as a warning to stay away. He is delightfully smug if you return the treatment.

6.     Kusuo – He pretends he isn’t being territorial when he’s in preheat, but whenever you end up in conversation with someone, Kusuo is just suddenly standing next to you, I wonder how that happened? He also makes a way greater effort to ditch anyone who might interrupt his alone time with you. He turns his friends away if they show up at his door when he’s in preheat. When in heat, he gets off on the ‘you’re mine and I’m yours’ aspect.

7.     Light – This boy in greedy for your attention when he’s in preheat, and very bitter if he doesn’t get enough of it. He directs most of his anger at anyone who he perceives as taking you away from him. He will lie and manipulate others away from you both during this time with zero hesitation or regret. Would be possessive if you gave too much attention to a book while he’s in heat.

Who needs the most support:

1.     Alois – I headcanon that Alois has some specific heat related trauma, that I’m not going to get into right now, that impacts him greatly. His alpha is his protection. He only feels safe during his heat if you’re there with him. If you leave him alone, even just for a minute, he will panic, fear mixing with his already heat addled brain. For that reason, he needs a great deal of support, he needs a gentle touch and a constant presence.

2.     Shouto – His father paid to have him on illegal grade suppressant without him knowing just after Shouto’s quirk came in. Endeavour got the quirk he wanted, but not the dynamic he wanted, so he tried to change that. He experiences similar heats to Neji when he first comes off of suppressants. He’s so sensitive everywhere that it hurts. He wants to be touched so badly, but it hurts him. His alpha needs to work with him slowly to help him overcome the sensitivity.

3.     Neji – I mentioned before that due to the suppressant abuse that was inflicted on Neji as a child, his heats can be very painful, especially at first, much like Shouto. For a more in-depth analysis, I have headcanons on Neji’s suppressant abuse listed on my pinned masterlist.

4.     Keigo (Hawks) – He suffers from really bad paranoia during his heats. At first, it’s unclear what’s triggering the paranoia, but eventually it becomes clear that his treatment in the hands of the Commission have left him some nasty mental scars. When Keigo is in heat, he needs to have the door locked and bolted, the windows lock and covered with thick curtains and blinds, he needs to be rid of all technology or anything a person could use to contact him, and he needs all supplies to be in his nest with him so that neither you nor him have to leave that one room. It’s why the room he nests in must have an ensuite. He tends to have soft heats (emotionally charge rather than sexually charged) because his paranoia makes his body think he’s in too much danger to have a proper heat. It’s lucky that his heats normally only last for a day.

 (N-sfw under cut~)

Who is the horniest:

1.     Sebastian – He barely manages to keep it together during the day when he has to serve Ciel, but at night? You better be fucking him so well that he can’t stay coherent. He needs a full eight hours of sex before the heat withdraws enough for him to focus. A demon’s heat is very intensive after all.

2.     Kakashi – Every little thing sets him off when he’s in heat. Maybe you knotted him and the heat is subsiding a little, but then you bit your lip or stretch in a certain way, and immediately he’s consumed by his heat again. He struggles to keep it in his trousers long enough to hydrate and sleep. Sometimes he needs to cockwarm his alpha just to be able to calm his instincts enough to sleep.

3.     Tamaki A – He gets so horny at the peaks of his heat that any and all nervousness completely vanishes. He will beg his alpha shamelessly to get what he needs. He cannot control his voice at all, so you better hope your neighbours are forgiving, because Amajiki shouts some filthy things when he feels really good.

4.     Asmo – No one is surprised that he is completely and overwhelmingly horny for his entire heat. Most omegas have down moments for resting and hydrating while their heat isn’t so bad. Not Asmo. His heat lasts for three days (a maximum amount) and is intense for all of it. You have to make him to eat and drink something while he begs and writhes on your lap for you to fuck him.

5.     Kiba – Has a very high sex drive in general, even when he’s not in heat, so it’s no surprise that he’s basically insatiable when he’s in heat. He jumps his alpha five times a day when he’s in preheat, and every hour when he’s in heat. If you can’t provide for him as often as he needs, he will absolutely buy a knotted dildo and use it while he’s on top of you. Most of the time that convinces his alpha to help him get off.

#heat #abo #omegaverse #alpha!reader #alpha!mc #gn!alpha #n-sfw #reader insert #x reader #kiba #asmo #omega tamaki #omega kakashi #sebastian #naruto #obey me #bnha #black butler #hawks #keigo #neji #shouto #todoroki #alois #light #kusuo #saiki #diavolo #belphie #shinsou

[gohyuck]

smoke and cherries

or, alternatively, bonnie & clyde

pairing: criminal!jeong yunho x criminal!reader

genre: fluff (between yunho & the reader), some suggestiveness

warnings:  mentions of smoking cigarettes, armed robbery, guns, theft, what is literally cold-blooded murder actually (minor character death of a convenience store clerk), reader and yunho are definitely like… screws lose in a murdery way, reader sucks blood off of yunho’s fingers for a second (i’m so sorry it’s kinda fucked up), yunho blows his smoke into the reader’s face but it’s like consensual, littering

word count: 1.4k

“since when d’you keep suckers on you?” yunho lets the question escape out the side of his mouth in tandem with the smoke of his cigarette, and when you look over at your other half, his expression is as amused as his words are inquisitive. his eyes are already back on the road ahead of you, though you don’t doubt that he’d been gazing upon you a second ago when he’d asked about your new vice. you swirl your tongue around the bright red candy one more time for good measure before pushing it into one of your cheeks, stick jutting out the very corner of your slightly chapped lips.

they hadn’t had cherry back when you’d been growing up, the concept of it only having been introduced during your high school years. you find that it’s your favorite flavor now. perhaps novelty doesn’t wear off.

“since this mornin’,” you respond after a beat, your lips pulling into a teasing grin while you allow your words to sink in. once the meaning behind your words has settled, yunho can’t help but laugh softly but genuinely, removing the Lucky Strike from between his lips before resting his hand, cigarette between two lithe fingers, over the edge of the window. it’s a sweet moment between lovers; a shared secret.

between the soft mirth in your eyes and the red stain on your tongue, between yunho’s rounded features and good-natured gaze , there’s not an outsider in the world that would guess just what the two of you find so funny.

you’d grabbed a bag of lollipops at the Southland Ice Company store the two of you had hit up in the morning. there’d been a sign - hand-painted, by the looks of it - on the wall above the candy bin, something or the other about a discounted rate. free is a discount, right?

the two of you may seem sweet, unassuming, even kind in this stolen moment, but if anyone knows better, it’s you. then again, not many people have seen you with red stains on your clothes and lived to tell the tale. even less have survived yunho when his eyes switch from soft and loving to a cold, steely glare. he never looks angry, no: just soulless. you have never seen your lover feel remorse.

this thrills you. birds of a feather.

you let your tongue wrap around the lollipop once more, wrapping a finger around the stick to pull it out of your mouth for a second to savor the flavor that now coats your tongue. there’s a torn-open package with other cherry candies in the back somewhere, hidden under piles of other things that were free-but-not-really. the clerk had been too busy cowering under your boyfriend’s sneer - and the barrel of his Browning Automatic - to notice you swiping the suckers.

on one hand, you can’t imagine a better image to see before dying: there’s something undeniably sexy about yunho with his finger against a trigger and a lack of soul behind his eyes. on the other… it’s just a little fascinating, you think. working day in and day out at a shitty job must be the most awful, crushing thing possible, and yet the fool behind the Southland counter still wants to live. he’s still sobbing, snot running over his lips and a wretched, choking noise bubbling up from the depths of his throat as he begs for his pathetic little life, hands shaking as he drops stacks of bills into the bag in yunho’s other hand. 

 you stuff the lollipops into your own oversized bag, scouring the shelves for things of more worth. there’ll be a shady dealer or two in a neighboring city that’ll be willing to take most anything off of your hands, you’re sure of it. at first, the man’s hysterics don’t really bother you: this is fairly run-of-the-mill. still, your patience wears away over time: there’s only so much caterwauling you can take before your eardrums beg for release. 

“baby,” you call from one end of the store, dropping a few bottles of medicine into your bag, not bothering to read their labels. the bawling rises in volume at the sound of your voice. before you can say anything else about getting the collateral to be quiet, yunho beats you to it.

“shut the fuck up,” he growls, voice loud enough and low enough that you can hear him clearly despite being across the cramped building. there’s a dull thunking noise, followed by a soft whimper, and you know that the barrel of yunho’s rifle is now against the clerk’s forehead. you can’t help the giggle that escapes you: you love this part. your boyfriend lets out an airy chuckle in response to your laughter, because what makes you happy makes him happy. 

“you done?” yunho calls, and by how light his tone is, you know that he’s talking to you. you take a moment to sift through what you have, and, upon realizing that you’re done for now, you call out an equally pleasant ‘mhm!’.

“go ahead and get the car started for me then, darling,” your lover responds. the clerk lets out a wet gasp, not knowing if this means life or death for him. poor, naive, still-hopeful little thing. yunho pushes the cool metal into his skin with a miniscule amount of heightened force as he speaks to you with the casualness of a white picket fence couple in suburbia. “i won’t be but a minute.”

the bang had been muffled, but you’d heard it nonetheless, even from the car, just as you’d grabbed a couple of lollipops from the package before throwing the whole thing back into the back seat. just as yunho’d stalked out, bag full of cash and dirtied gun in hand, you’d slid into the passenger seat. he’d dropped everything into the back alongside your stuff before hitting the gas, making you fear for your life for one beautiful moment before regaining control of the car.

he’d raised a hand up once he was sure of his place on the road, placing two fingers against your lips. you’d tasted the clerk’s blood then, sitting heavy against your taste-buds as you pulled it off of yunho’s skin. you know his process well: even after putting a hole in the poor man’s head, yunho would’ve wrapped one of his hands around the victim’s throat, mostly to ensure his death. you can never be too careful, after all. 

you could see it clearly, the blood dripping down the side of the dead man’s face and over your boyfriend’s fingers. there’s something surreal about it. always is. yunho had pulled his fingers from your mouth with a pop, laughing softly when you’d nipped at his fingertips for a moment before pressing a kiss to his knuckles. he’d dropped his hand to your thigh just as you’d lit a cigarette for him. the same hand is currently wrapped idly around the top of the steering wheel. 

“thought you were gonna use the candy to try ‘n quit cigs for a second there,” yunho states at a stop light, taking a drag of his own cigarette before turning towards you. you don’t turn towards him, knowing full well that he’s going to playfully blow smoke at the side of your face. 

he does so. you can’t help your smile. 

“you’re the one that needs to quit,” you respond easily, rolling your eyes solely for good measure. you aren’t lying, not really: you smoke maybe once or twice a day. your lover goes through a pack in the same time. the smoke wraps around you like an old friend. nobody in the surrounding cars knows who you are, what you do. you feel safe. yunho drops the cig stub out the window onto the road, and you realize he’d blown his last smoke cloud at you. your smile grows. 

“i need to quit, hm?” he raises an eyebrow, though his eyes smile just as his mouth does.

“you’re the one that’s addicted.” you affirm your own claim, words a little slurred around the lollipop in your mouth. yunho laughs, real and loud, before reaching over to pinch the end of your lollipop’s stick, tugging on it gently. you realize that he isn’t trying to take it from you; rather, he’s simply pulling you closer to him. you oblige. 

he pulls harder once, and you part your teeth to allow him to pull the sucker off of your tongue. yunho leans close, lips brushing over yours, before he speaks again.

“the only thing ‘m addicted to is you, sweetheart.”

he tastes of real smoke, and you taste of fake cherries. it doesn’t get any better than this.

#yunho fluff #yunho smut #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #ateez fluff #yunho #ateez smut #yunho scenario #yunho scenarios

[imaginesntingz]

Imagine Gaara comforting you when the depression and anxiety hit

Trigger Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Swearing(?)

A/N: Hey y’all! This is my first post on this blog. I hope you all enjoy it <3 Please don’t copy any of my works. It’s all originally written and I put a lot of time and effort into my pieces. Please ask me before reposting.

————————-

You were curled up in bed staring into nothingness. The past week or two you’ve tried to keep it at bay, but you felt the ever lingering depression creeping its way in. Nothing in particular happened. It was just always there. There wasn’t a time you could remember it not being there. Sometimes it was muffled like background noise and other times the volume was turned up so loud it was the only thing you could hear. It was your constant companion following you like a shadow. And to top it all off, anxiety was right behind it. You thought about overthinking and overthought about thinking. Racing thoughts kept you up sometimes until the sun shone through the blinds.

Everyone wondered why you were so quiet at times, but they couldn’t hear the ass beating you were getting from your own mind that made it almost impossible to be in the present moment. Nor could you find the energy, the language, nor a fuck to give to even begin to explain the war going on inside you. Temari invited you out to what you thought would be a small kickback yesterday that ended up being a full blown party. Gaara, who was supposed to go with you, was inevitably called in for village business. You ended up socially tapped after just a few hours in. Although Temari was with you and you met up with some chill friends . . Although you were surrounded by people, you still felt completely alone. Although you heard the words coming out of their mouths, you couldn’t keep up with what they were saying. Although you were physically there, you weren’t there. You wanted so badly to just enjoy yourself like everyone else, but it was what it was. After pleading with your sister in law, you finally went home only to find that Gaara was still in the office. One final push that sent you

Spiraling

down

And there you were exhausted but painfully awake in the darkness of your shared room. You didn’t know how long you were lying there. There was no time, only the bottomless ocean that swallowed anything and everything you tried to drop into it. No amount of journaling, affirmations, meditation, prayer, movement, walking, entertainment, pet cuddling, food, water, medication, vitamins, herbs, epsom salt baths, incense, face masks or any of the methods you’ve tried felt tangible to you in that moment. What was the point when you didn’t even have the will to move? How could you think of going on a mission next week when you couldn’t guarantee you’d attempt to leave your room tomorrow? How were you going to take care of your hair if you couldn’t even braid, twist or put it up for the night? How could you call yourself a caring friend when you’re thinking about canceling the dinner you’ve already rescheduled twice?

“My love? Why are you still awake?”

Your husband’s soothing voice jolted you out of your inner dialogue. You hadn’t even heard him come in, too lost in the wall in front of you.

“ . . . Can’t sleep.”

You heard the sound of the door closing and hushed shuffling as he moved around the room. A few moments later, you felt his weight dip the mattress beside you. A warm arm wrapped around your middle, gently pulling you to his chest. His hand moved to intertwine with yours as he spooned you from behind.

“How did it go with Temari? Again I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go with you. I hope you had a good time.”

“It’s fine. It was fine.” you replied flatly.

Gaara caressed the back of your thumb with his own as silence filled the space between you. His lips met the skin of your shoulder and you felt your body gradually relax into his embrace. He was never one to push you when you weren’t ready to talk and always made you feel grounded back to earth with his very presence. Even amidst his many responsibilities as Kazekage, he always made sure to check in on you and provide whatever you may want or need. He would do anything for you if it meant you would feel loved, safe, balanced and happy. Gaara, sweet Gaara, was the love of your lifetimes and you, his. He knew you better than he knew himself and picked up on every detail. Your likes and dislikes. How you took your tea in the morning. Your sensitivities. Every expression. Your body language. The tone in your voice. The slightest change in your eyes. So it was no surprise that he picked up on the shift in your mood right away.

“(y/n) . . . Sweetheart, It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but please know that I am here. I love you more than words can express. I am here to listen and support you in any way that I can. I always will be. You know that, right?”

And with that, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Your body trembled as he maneuvered you to face him. He wrapped his arms firmly around you, cocooning you into the safety of his hold. You buried your face into his chest and the calming scent of earth and cinnamon enveloped your senses. Your tears and running nose wetted the shirt he wore, but he didn’t care. Soft kisses were pressed to the crown of your head as his fingers trailed up and down the length of your spine, occasionally drawing soothing circles. You turned your head to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart pressed against you before finally catching your breath to speak.

“I-I’m just so tired of fighting just to be okay all the time. I’ve been taking steps to take care of my mental health, but it still feels like it isn’t enough. It’s like one day I’m fine and a couple days later it feels like I’m back at square one. I just want to exist sometimes. No expectations. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to be anything. I just want to be.”

He squeezed you gently at your words, pausing thoughtfully before responding.

“You once told me that your dream is to become the peace within and despite the chaos inside of you. The chaos all around us. You said that you wish to heal yourself and pass on healing to others. I know it is easy to lose sight of it when you’re in the midst of what feels like a never ending battle, but I wanted to remind you of it because I never want you to lose hope.”

Your eyes widened in shock and turned glassy as he continued on.

“You have brought me out of the depths of the greatest despair and have played a huge role in supporting me in healing from my past. Your love is medicine to my heart. There were times when I was lost that you reminded me to never lose sight of my dream. To never lose sight of what truly matters. Even in the most difficult times, you have always found hope where others have felt hopeless. That is one of the many reasons I love you. I am your husband, so let me be your strength when you are tired and feel you can’t go on because you are my strength, dear wife. We can get through this together. Remember that healing is a lifelong journey, not a destination. So take it one day at a time. Hour by hour or minute by minute if that’s what it takes. You’re so hard on yourself sometimes, but look how far you’ve come to be here. Right now. How much you’ve grown. I want you to know that I am so proud of you, sweetheart. I hope that you can come to be proud of your accomplishments too.”

A fresh wave of tears came over you, but for a completely different reason this time. You practically tackled your poor mans onto his back and your lips met in an intense yet equally loving kiss. His hands worshipped the expanse of your hips and time fell away. Vibrations hummed throughout your body as you pulled back to look into those seafoam green eyes. His red hair and pale complexion highlighted by the light of the moon peeking through the window. He was ethereal.

“I love you, Gaara. So much. I am so happy that you exist. Honestly when you speak so openly and directly like that I feel like my heart is gonna burst through my chest . . . fuckkkk. In a good way though! But seriously, thank you for being you. I never thought I’d be able to say this to someone without fear, but . . when I am with you, I know that I am home. You are my home, love. ”

His eyes softened before a huge grin spread across his now blushing features. Gaara didn’t smile often, but when he did it was a sight to behold. It was like feeling the warmth of a sunrise for the first time. An all encompassing glow.

He sat up and cupped both of your cheeks in his hands, tears now mirroring your own. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Do you know how beautiful you are? Truly? Your beauty radiates from the inside out. Honestly, what have I done to deserve you?”

“Sir, have you taken a good look at yourself lately? That’s my line. Fight me. Right now.” you deadpanned playfully.

A look of genuine concern crossed over his face. His hands settled on your waist and his posture noticeably drooped.

“(y/n), I would never fight you.”

“ . . . Gaara, I was just joking. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Sarcasm?”

“Mhm.”

“ . . . Right. I should have known. I’ll do better next time.” he sighed dejectedly.

Your body shook with laughter at your man’s adorably serious face. He’s always trying his best. Only Gaara could go from holding space through your tears of sadness, to making you cry from happiness, to having you doubled over with laughter within a matter of moments just by being authentically himself.

“I love you so fucking much, my sweet Gaara.”

“And I, you. My beautiful (y/n).”

You both slept soundly that night in a tangle of limbs, not knowing where one ended or the other began. Two, who together, are one.

#gaara #gaara imagine #naruto imagines #temari #gaara of the desert #gaara of the sand #naruto #comfort #imagine #love #cuddling #gaara x reader #gaara x y/n #gaara fanfiction #gaara x you #kazekage gaara #anime imagines #mental health #mental heath support #self care #healing journey #chronic depression #panic disorder #x female reader #x fem!reader

[chudleycanonficfest]

the hippogriffs and the flobberworms

Day 23, Post #2 by @accio-broom

Title: the hippogriffs and the flobberworms Author/Artist: accio-broom Pairing: Arthur & Ron Weasley (platonic) Prompt: slice of life Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Mentions of sex lives and STDs, very cringe-worthy.

Arthur whistles as he roams the ground floor of the Burrow, searching for his youngest son. Ron’s best friend Hermione is due to arrive any day, ready to spend the latter part of the summer holiday with the Weasleys, but there are some things Arthur needs to speak to Ronald about before Miss Granger joins them.

He’s probably left this conversation a little late—Ron turned fourteen a few months ago—but this is the first time the youngest has shown any interest in the opposite sex. With the rather exciting activities coming up for their fourth school year, including a ball, it’s only inevitable that different feelings will start to stir.

Chuckling, Arthur reminisces about the conversations with his other sons. Bill, always cool as a frost salamander, kept his focus on his old Dad without any outward discomfort, even though Arthur made a complete mess as he told Bill about the facts of life. All of Arthur’s words came out in a massive jumble—he couldn’t even use the correct terms for various body parts and used all the wrong euphemisms. Arthur had been trying so hard to be a cool dad that he got himself far too worked up to make any sense. 

His second son, Charlie, was dismissive and didn’t seem interested in the mechanics of making love, which was disappointing given the amount of time Arthur had spent rehearsing, determined to get it right that time. Percy approached the conversation with logic and appropriate questions, discussing it as he would an important Ministry policy before thanking his dad then leaving the room without a backwards glance. In stark contrast, the twins cracked inappropriate jokes and turned the tables on Arthur, making him feel awkward as innuendo after innuendo spewed from their mouths.

Ron will be Arthur’s last chance to do “the talk”. Molly is responsible for dealing with Ginny, and they’ve probably already started. He doesn’t baulk at the female aspect of puberty, having lived with a woman for almost twenty-five years, he’s well versed in the potions and muggle contraptions they need to use, but he thought it only fair that Molly gets a go of this, too. It’s one of the essential parts of being a parent, after all. 

Although Arthur is well-seasoned in explaining the facts of life without going overboard with the detail or using cringe-worthy phrases now (although the twins did teach him a few new idioms), he has decided to step away from the ‘cool’ dad persona and go full-on over the top this time. 

He could make this easy for Ron, but why would Arthur want to spoil his own fun?

A flash of red hair leaving the broom shed catches his attention out of the kitchen window, and Arthur’s grin widens. It’s a beautiful day, the sun is shining, but there is a light breeze, keeping the air fresh and cool. It’s the sort of day that would lead to him fishing in the lake at the bottom of the garden, but he has a task at hand that he needs to deal with first. 

Maybe there’ll be time for him to get his rod out later.

Pouring two glasses of lemonade from the jug Molly has left on the side, Arthur uses a cooling charm on them then steps out from the backdoor and onto the patio. 

“Ron,” he calls, smiling as his son turns his head around faster than a niffler chasing gold, looking like Arthur has caught Ron doing something that he shouldn’t. Probably skiving from the long list of chores Molly gave him this morning. “Come up and have a chat with your old Dad.”

Arthur eases himself into the bench under the wisteria with a groan. Although he isn’t all that old, having seven children and living through a war takes its toll on a guy’s body. Now, every joint clicks and complains every time he moves. Forget getting somewhere in a hurry; slow and steady is now the way to go.

Ron settles in the seat next to him. 

“What’s up, Dad?” he asks, smiling at Arthur. He takes the offered drink, gulping almost half of it in one go before letting out a loud, satisfied sigh.

“Hermione is coming to stay with us before we go to the World Cup, I hear? But not Harry?”

Ears turning pink, Ron turns his head to look out at the garden. “Y-yeah. We’re going to collect Harry in a few days, remember?”

“Oh, yes. I’m very excited to be visiting the Muggles. Will they tell me about eckeltricity? Should I take my battery collection?”

Ron laughs. “I don’t think the Dursleys will be too impressed with batteries, Dad. They use them every day.”

“Shame.” Arthur sighs, then turns his eyes to gaze the same way as Ron’s. “So, Hermione is a girl.”

“Er, yes, I guess so.”

“A girl you’re attracted to?” Arthur glances at Ron, whose face has turned as white as a ghost.

Ron reacts with a knee-jerk response, but the look on his face indicates that he’s not telling the whole truth. “No!”

“Are you sure? You and her have gotten close lately. Mum and I like her.” Arthur waits a moment for Ron to take back his first response, then tuts when he stays quiet. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone you do like soon. Anyway, as you already know, she’ll be staying in Ginny’s room with your sister, and I’m sure you’re clear on the rules of the house. Your Mum does not want any sneaking around or late-night visits.”

Arthur doesn’t hold the same views as his wife. Sure, he doesn’t want the kids to be sleeping in each other’s beds, but he remembers the conversations he and his friends had during the early hours of the morning when he was their age. If the children wanted to get up to something, Arthur would rather it happen under their roof where they’re safe than have them take unnecessary risks. He and Molly were young once, too, although it feels like a lifetime ago now.

“I know, Dad.”

“Good. And so you know, if you ever find yourself feeling conflicted or wanting some advice on how to ask a lady out, you can always come to me. Because being a teenage lad is a very confusing time, and the magic will heighten this, as well as the fact that you live in proximity to some charming young women. You might not feel it right now, but you’re on the precipice of being a man. Your voice has started breaking. Sure, it’s a little later than the others, but I’m sure that’s nothing to worry about. Everyone develops at their own pace, after all. Pretty soon, you’ll have hairs sprouting all over the place, even in places you wouldn’t expect it. I can’t remember when all of this started happening for me, but it was around your age. And don’t get me started on the wet dreams…”

“Merlin,” Ron sighs, now squirming in his seat, trying to make himself as small as possible. When Arthur checks again, his youngest is looking into the depths of his glass as if considering whether he could drown himself in there.

“Sex is healthy, son, especially if it’s with someone that you admire and love, whether that be a girl or a boy, Your mum and I don’t mind as long as you’re happy. And if you find the right person, then it can be amazing.”

A low groan emits from Ron’s mouth as he pushes himself further down the bench, attempting to put some distance between him and Arthur. 

“Please stop talking,” he pleads with bright red cheeks.

“Having a good sex life is nothing to be ashamed of, let me tell you. The seven of you weren’t delivered by the hippogriffs, after all. Not that we only have sex to procreate. Having you kids out of the house has done wonders for our love life. 

“While we’re on the subject, if you can’t get a partner, then there’s nothing wrong with taking matters into your own hand. Masturbation is very beneficial, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It’s important to explore your own body and learn the kind of things you like so that you can recreate those moments with a partner. I can tell you some useful charms if you need them—ones for when you’re with someone, and others for when you’re alone. Of course, there are some spells that are vital for you to learn. Safety is sexy, and you don’t want any little accidents happening.”

Ron runs his hand over his face as if trying to erase his dismay. “Dad. Please stop. I know all of this already. Not that I wa-I mean, do that sort of stuff.” 

He crosses his legs with a gulp, and Arthur feels a rush of joy. He’s succeeded in making his youngest son feel as awkward as possible. You have to take delight in the smallest of moments, especially the older you get. 

“Who told you?”

“I have five brothers and live in a dorm with four other boys. Also, Flitwick taught us the contraceptive charm last year.” Ron is still focused on his glass, looking like he wants to be a million miles away.

“Oh, right. ”

An irrational surge of disappointment crashes over Arthur. He should have realised that kids are far more advanced and talk much more than they did in his day. He should have bit the bludger earlier and nabbed him last summer.

“Well,” Arthur continues anyway, determined to see this through, “contraceptive charms aren’t the only things you need to learn. You need to ensure you protect yourself from Sexually Transmitted Diseases, or STDs, as well. Some of these can make you a little itchy, but others can be dangerous. You should go and see Madam Pomfrey if you think you might have one. Of course, you could always get some muggle con-domes. Fantastic little invention they are. Rather than trying to remember a load of different spells while you’re in the heat of passion, you can whack on a rubber and get to it.”

He doesn’t allow Ron’s small squeak to put him off his speech, now he’s in full flow again. “Talking about getting to it. Consent is important. When you decide to take that step, or even before when you snog someone, you need to make sure they want to do it too. Every step of the way. If they say no, you stop right away, even if they said yes only a minute previously. You must understand that. Never force yourself on someone, especially if they are drunk or otherwise intoxicated. If they can’t say yes, it’s a no-go. Got it?”

“I-I d-do,” Ron stutters, his voice strained under the embarrassment of the situation. “C-Can I go now?”

“Yes, yes, of course. But don’t forget that I’m here if you need anything, son. Even if you think it might get you into trouble. And look after Hermione, even if your feelings for her are only platonic. I admire the way you, her and Harry have formed a little group. The three of you are good for each other.”

Arthur reclines on the bench and closes his eyes, letting out a sigh as the sun warms his face. There’s no point getting one’s wand in a knot over spilt potion. He still managed to get Ron squirming like a flobberworm, so it was mostly a successful mission.

The bench shifts as Ron rises to his feet. He finishes his drink with a gulp and sets the glass down on the floor before shuffling away.

“Dad?” a small voice asks.

When Arthur opens his eyes, he spots Ron towering over him. When did he get so lanky? Ron is going to be the tallest of the family, for sure. There’s a smile on his face, though he still can’t meet his Dad’s gaze.

“Yeah, Son?” Arthur asks, shielding his eyes from the sun.

“Thanks for trying.”

Ron shrugs, then wanders back down the garden, his gangly frame hunched over. Arthur marvels at Ron’s response. You think you fully understand your children, and then they do something that knocks you off your broom. But Ron is a decent lad, and Arthur knows he will go far, like the rest of them.

With a happy sigh, he leans back and closes his eyes again. He’s done an okay job at this parenting thing. As long as none of them gets arrested or tries to break into Gringotts, he can die a happy man.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest platonic #submission #arthur weasley #ron weasley

[romioneficfest]

Mine

Title: Mine Prompt/Day: Day 5 - Baby Rose or Hugo does not sleep Tumblr name:  Rating: G Brief summary: A newborn Hugo refuses to sleep. Can Rose be the answer to the young parents finally getting some sleep? Any possible triggering/warning tags: None.

Ever since the day she was born, Rose Weasley-Granger was a blessing to her young parents. Quiet, undemanding and easy to please, life was bloody brilliant with her around, or so her Dad thought.

As she grew, Rose showed great curiosity about the world around her. Even as a toddler, she absorbed every book and every story. When she came across bridges, cranes, or muggle vehicles — she always asked how or why.

Ron was more than happy to indulge her, taking her out for walks, and trips to the museums, places his wife teased him about as he’d always claimed he hated them before Rosie. And when Hermione discovered that she was pregnant again, he braced himself for the incoming questions the now three-year-old might have.

But none came.

Rose accepted that her baby brother was growing inside her mother, her curiosity replaced by the excitement of finally getting a sibling, just like the rest of her cousins. And that was that.

As Hermione’s stomach began to grow, Rose was obsessed and developed an instant love for the life inside. During family cuddles, Ron would often find himself elbowed out of the way so that Rose could get access to the baby bump.

“My baby,” Rose would say to anyone who would listen, splaying her hands across her mother’s belly and giggling as it rewarded her with a kick in response. “My baby. In there.”

⁂

As soon as Ron and Hermione brought Hugo home from St. Mungo’s, Rose claimed him as her own.

But Hugo was unlike his sister.

Restless from his first day in the world, the baby refused to settle, and the parents soon found themselves struggling to sleep or cope with two small people with very different demands to look after.

Ron found himself calling on his mother more than ever, pleading with her to take Rose, something he and Hermione agreed never to do.

Bereft every time they parted the siblings, sending Rose away came with its own problems. She would kick and scream as they forced her into the Floo network, tears marking her face and a look that told her Dad she’d never forgive him for this.

⁂

“I don’t know what to do,” Hermione fretted on their fifth morning with baby Hugo. It had been another night of not sleeping. She bounced him in her arms; his face bawled up. He wanted to be latched to her all the time, yet he rarely fed, meaning she was not getting a break.

Ron looked on desperately. They were out of their depth. Noticing that Hermione was about to give up completely, he held his arms out.

“Let me take him, love. I know I don’t have boobs, but he’ll just have to cope for a bit. You’re so frazzled. Why don’t you go and get a shower, and I’ll try and calm him down. Then when you’re ready, we can try feeding the terror again.”

“Okay,” Hermione whimpered, her entire body sagging against the pressure of not being able to calm her baby.

Taking the bundle of blankets from his weeping wife, Ron pressed a kiss to the top of her head and pushed her towards the bathroom. As soon as she was gone, he started to pace the bedroom floor, following in Hermione’s footsteps. With a million nieces and nephews, Ron had an arsenal of tools to try and help soothe his son, and he was willing to try them all. Hugo must be exhausted with all this crying; maybe he just needed a decent amount of kip.

The roar of the Floo activating distracted Ron from his mission, and he shifted the aggravated baby into one arm before heading down to greet their visitors. He arrived in the living room just in time to see his mum and daughter tumble from the green flames.

“Daddy!” A bundle of bouncy red curls threw herself at his legs, almost knocking him off balance. Her grip was vice-like but comforting. At least one of his children liked him, despite her regular protests at him ‘sending her away’.

“Hugo still not settling down, love?” His mother clucked, peering at the red ball of anger in Ron’s arms.

“Nah, I reckon he’s pissed off that we took him away from Hermione’s womb. He was so comfy in there, getting fat and sleeping. He’s just trying to punish us for it.”

Scooping up her granddaughter, Molly settled on the sofa. “Well, he was over two weeks late; it was about time he came out. Not like his sister, hey Rosie? Perfectly on time and lovely ever since, weren’t you? Where’s Hermione?”

“I’m letting her take a shower. She’s probably trying to drown herself in there, just for a breather.”

“Want me to take Hugo for a bit?” Molly glanced up, a hopeful look on her face. It didn’t matter how many grandchildren the Weasley’s popped out; each and every one was special and exciting.

“Su—” he started, eager for a break from the annoyed newborn, but he was rudely interrupted by his daughter.

“No. Mine.” Rosie’s arms were up in the air, demanding a cuddle from her brother.

“Oh, I don’t know, Rose.” Ron frowned. “Your brother still isn’t a happy bunny, and he’s very noisy. Why don’t you help Nanny cuddle him instead?”

“No, Daddy. My baby.”

Ron was surprised that Rosie hadn’t used accidental magic to summon her brother to her. The adamant look on his daughter’s face, with furrowed brows and curls that crackled with electricity, reminded him of Hermione, and he chuckled. He knew his daughter wouldn’t give up until she got what she wanted.

Glancing at his mum, Ron shrugged and, with her help, placed the baby into Rosie’s arms.

“Aww baby,” Rose cooed, the hand not supporting the baby’s head reaching across to stroke Hugo’s cheek. “My baby. Poor ‘oo-go.”

To Ron’s amazement, the baby calmed down almost instantly. Two bright but unfocused eyes searched the room for the source of his comfort. Something must have assured him that it was close by because Hugo closed his eyes and finally settled down to sleep.

A clammer on the stairs broke the silence, and Hermione burst into the room, a towel wrapped around her body and hair, her eyes wild with fear.

“He stopped crying — what happened? Is everything okay?”

“Rose sorted him out,” Ron stated before collapsing into the armchair and closing his eyes. “Now shhhhhh before you wake the beast up.”

Forcing his eyes open, his heart almost stopped as Rose continued to coo over the baby. He thought he couldn’t love anyone as much as he loved Hermione until these two tiny people were thrust into his life. He just wished they would always be this quiet.

The silence wouldn’t last long. Rosie’s arms were small, so she wouldn’t be able to support Hugo for the rest of the day. And he guessed it wasn’t ethical to allow their three-year-old to look after her brother forever. As parents, they’d need to step in eventually.

Sensing his thoughts, Molly smiled over at him. “Time for your shower, I think, Ronnie. And then maybe the two of you can take advantage of the quiet to have a nap. Rosie and I have things under control. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Nanny. Mummy, Daddy. Go!” Rosie beamed up at her grandmother.

“You heard her. Off you go.”

Shaking his head and marveling at the way his daughter already had him under her thumb, Ron got to his feet. He was desperate for a shower and a decent sleep. Placing a hand on the small of his wife’s back, he steered her towards the stairs.

“You heard the child. It’s time for us to have a break."

#hpfic #Romione FicFest 2021 #Romione #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #Rose Weasley-Granger #Molly Weasley #Hugo Granger-Weasley #Rated G #Ace Safe #No Content Warning #Queue up for the Dragon

[euphoricsunflowers]

drowning in your scent — chae hyungwon

a/n: ajshdhs this this officially the longest fic on my blog by a whole lot (i think the only thing that comes somewhat close is queen’s whore at like 3.1k sheesh) so in the spirit of that! please give this fic a lot of love!!

word count: 4.7k

content: goddess au, sub!hyungwon, dom!fem!reader, the sex scene involves kissing, lip biting, neck kisses, and riding, fun stuff like that, and minhyuk is here!! he’s mentioned a lot lmao hyunghyuk besties

warning: this fanfic does take place in a village setting where there’s a bad harvest of food and so there’s a lot of mentions of food and starving. as someone with problems with food myself this could be potentially somewhat triggering so please don’t read if need be and i want to emphasize that if you need help to please reach out for it. i know what it’s like, please even feel free to reach out to me if need be, but do remember i’m not a professional.

summary: a boy from the village struggling through a bad harvest and the goddess of nature, of animals and forests, and of flowers so lovely the scent will make you dizzy, make a deal.

“hyungwon,” the voice calls out to him, and his heart aches when he sees it’s minhyuk that’s speaking to him. the usual cheer and brightness to minhyuk’s voice has all but vanished, “come on, we need to get to work,” he trudged slowly behind his friend, with minhyuk’s hand holding his own. there’s nothing but comradery between them, and yet hyungwon feels like he would trust minhyuk with his life.

“i hate this,” hyungwon murmurs under his breath, but he can faintly hear minhyuk chuckle at his whining, “i’m serious!! there’s barely any food and i’m starving and i’m supposed to pick fruit that i won’t even be allowed to eat?!”

minhyuk’s face is stone cold suddenly as he turns to, for lack of a better phrase, tell hyungwon to shut the hell up, “lower your voice,” he orders, and hyungwon deflates, but he obeys, and the quiet returns as they continue to walk to their spot in the field to pick the fruit, “i’m sorry, but i worry that being so outspoken will be your downfall, won.”

as they pick the apples, in silence from their short and blunt conversation, hyungwon spots one that stands out from the rest. he tries to resist getting a closer look at it, but he just can’t. he takes a few steps over towards it, subsequently a few steps away from minhyuk, and the apple does the rest. it’s almost hypnotic in the way hyungwon can’t take his eyes off of it. it’s red and glowing and hyungwon doesn’t know how he’s the only one captivated by the apple.

it’s like the fruit is speaking to him, calling him away, and he starts walking, even when minhyuk calls after him, he knows minhyuk spoke even though he couldn’t hear him. he walks for a few minutes, through the trees and the dense forest that he’s never traversed before. he doesn’t have to constantly gaze at the apple now, but he grips it in his hand like his life depends on it.

he comes upon a small statue hidden in the depths of the forest. it’s a stone carving of a bird, wings spread as if flying through the sky. it’s beautiful.

“isn’t it?” he hears from behind him, actually registering someone spoke to him this time, and he turns to see who it is. instead of the face of cheerful minhyuk he’s so used to seeing, a beautiful figure graces his eyes.

hyungwon can’t even focus on the physique, though, he’s too entranced by the piercing eyes that stare into his soul practically and the voice he can hear ringing in his head. “isn’t it, dear?” your voice repeats again, and he feels compelled to answer, though he’s not exactly sure how you read his thoughts. maybe he had actually said them out loud.

“yes,” he murmurs softly, turning back to look at the statue, “it’s gorgeous,” he takes a step closer to the statue to get a closer look.

“your voice,” you speak again, “i- nevermind,” you stop yourself, instead choosing to take a step closer to him, your hand touches his shoulder, “can i help you with something, dear?”

“i- what?” he’s taken aback by your question, because he didn’t search you or this place out, he was practically lured here by the fruit, “no, i-i’m okay, thank you though.”

“are you sure?” your touch on his shoulder finally registers in his head, like all his reactions are slowed and delayed, “if you’re not here for something, then… why are you here?”

“i dont… i don’t know,” he was never loud, but he’s even quieter now, “the apple… it led me here.”

you suddenly fell silent. he wonders if you used to apple to lure him, if this is a trap, but your touch is still so distracting and he can’t bring himself to care much. you look so harmless, with such pretty features that he wants to stare at forever.

it does make him wonder, however, just why your tone was so brazen when he said he wasn’t here to ask anything of you. you looked baffled when he said no, like that was the only reason you expected him to be here, “do people always just come searching for you… asking for things?”

“yes, they do,” you respond bluntly, but your words aren’t hostile. he faintly feels a sense of pity in his heart for you.

“that sounds like… such a sad existence,” the words leave his lips without him really putting much thought into them.

“it is,” you say as silence falls between the two of you before he speaks up.

“you uhm… are you… human?” you’re a beautiful yet lonely person in the forest, and it makes him wonder if you even are a person.

“no, dear,” you say as you lift your hand, the grass beneath both of you growing as you do so, “i am a being that represents nature. i think you humans would call me a god or goddess?”

“oh that’s… incredible. please explain to me more,” his eyes find you once again, watching you with already such a soft, adoring gaze.

“you just want to hear me talk, little human,” your tone is playful as his cheeks become rosy.

“maybe,” he smiles cheekily, “will you still explain it to me?”

“of course, sit with me and the flowers, will you?” you ask him, and he plops on the ground, sitting with his legs crossed as you begin, “i can control how nature exists in this world. i can make your flowers grow or trees in your forest more dense. you humans also love to hunt the sweet animals i create, ”

you pause, as if to give him a chance to speak up, and he does, “i’m sorry about that.”

“it’s alright, dear, your apologies are not necessary. besides, once they do die, they become gifts for other gods, and those gods treat their gifts from me very well,” you smile somberly, “tell me, how are you humans doing?”

he wants to lie, for some reason. he has an urge to just say ‘everything is fine, let’s just talk about happy things. i want to be happy’ but he doesn’t, “we’re… you want my honesty, right?”

“yes, yes absolutely,”

“we’re suffering. there’s too little food for everyone,” his stomach rumbles as he’s in the middle speaking, and he makes a sort of ‘see what i mean?’ gesture, “and we barely have enough to keep everyone alive through the month..”

you subtly gasp at his confession he just gives so easily, “and yet you were expected to pick fruit? that seems unfair, dear.”

“it was work that had to be done for the good fo the village,” he lowers his head at the thoughts racing through his head, envisioning the soft eyes of his friend, “but min- uh, my friend, he’s all i have. i know i… said i didn’t have anything to ask of you… and this may seem too much of me to ask, but now that i know what you are and can do, could you please help them? the people of my village, i mean,” he pleads, his eyes shining in the light.

“you want me to… provide them food?”

“please, i’d do anything,”

your face is suddenly much more serious, and you grip his shoulder as you lean in close to him, “for future reference, dear, don’t ever tell a being like me you’d do anything. ever. got it?” you were kind. you knew you were kind, but there were some that would rip his poor, innocent heart to shreds, steal his soul because he didn’t read the fine print. you’re relieved someone so soft and sweet and almost angelic stumbled upon you of all beings.

“yes,” he practically squeaks.

“good,” you sigh as you stand up, “i will help you, little thing. in return, please stay with me for one day. tomorrow afternoon, at this exact hour, you can return to the village,” you extend your hand for him to shake, “are those terms agreeable to you, my little human?”

his heart pounds in his chest. you want him to stay with you? for a whole day? he decides it’s a price that’s easy to pay if he remembers the prospect of being able to save him friend and his people from starvation “yes,” he murmurs, reaching out to shake your hand.

—

it doesn’t take much effort from you, just a wave of your hand and apparently, the harvest in the village would magically improve. he supposes one day is not a lot of his little time to give up if it meant the village could be revitalized with a bountiful amount of food. he just hopes minhyuk isn’t worrying too much.

you have a cottage of your own, he learns. it confuses him slightly because you’re a goddess, why would you need a very human-esque living space? he supposes he’ll never learn the answer to that question. the thing itself is impossible to see from the outside, he could have sworn nothing was there until your hand was in his (his heart stopped for a good minute) and you led him up the stairway leading into the cottage.

“make yourself at home,” you tell him, and he nods in a daze. your place was beautiful, full of flowers and vases with more flowers and little flower trinkets on the table and mugs with flower designs. judging from anything you considered to be your domain, you seem to like flowers. the softness of the atmosphere is calming to him, the scent of all the flowers is overwhelming, his knees are weak.

“what- what are you going to do with me for this day that you have me? you must have some plan for me,” you tilt your head with a faint smile on your lips as he sits beside you on the couch, “do you want me to work? am i a servant? please, all cards on the table, tell me what you want from me.”

“all cards on the table?” you echo, and he nods, for a second wondering if you just straight up didn’t know what he meant, but you lean in to him, close enough to just barely need to lean just a little more and you’d be kissing him, “i just think you’re cute. forgive me if i just wanted a day to gaze at you.”

he’s startled as you pull yourself away, leaving him flustered and blushing and stuttering as you excuse yourself outside to grow more flowers. he sees the beautiful sunflowers and roses and tulips and then his eyes find you once more. your beauty just radiates, it’s so overwhelming and intoxicating that he feels the safest really taking it all in when you’re focused on your flowers, not leaving him a blushing mess whilst so close to kissing him he just might faint.

the sun hits your skin in such a beautiful way that he can’t can’t stop staring. it’s ironic how you wanted him to stay for a night because you thought he was cute but he cannot take his eyes off of your beautiful smile and hair and demeanor and just… aura. your presence is so soft and comforting yet so overwhelming to him. it’s all something he can’t understand.

you return a few hours later, having given your guest time to really settle in. as you open the door, he’s in the kitchen area with one of your mugs, drinking a cup of tea peacefully and quietly, “welcome back,” he mumbles with a smile.

“hi there, little human,” you smile back at him, taking a seat beside him, “i’m… sorry. i know you were probably lonely, here all by yourself-“

“no, i actually enjoy the quiet. it beats picking fruit,” he shrugs.

“speaking of food, i was able to grant your request, but i completely forgot about you. would you like something specific to be prepared for your evening meal?” hyungwon forgot what it was like when there wasn’t barely enough food to survive on. he tells you his wishes for meat and vegetables and starches his stomach aches for, “alright, dear. sit at the counter with me as i cook.”

he’s stunned for a second, “i didn’t know you can cook.”

“you don’t know my name, my sweet. we have a lot to learn about each other.”

“what is your name?” he asks, and you giggle to yourself, having known he’d ask it the moment you brought up the fact that he hadn’t yet.

“y/n,” you answer, finding the spices you wanted, “and yours, my beautiful flower?”

his heart skips a beat at the endearing term you use. at this point, he wonders if you’re getting enjoyment out of flustering him so helplessly like this, “hyungwon,” he sees the way you smile when you hear his name. it makes him smile too.

“hyungwon… what a beautiful name you have, my dear. it’s fitting, for someone as beautiful as you,” at this point he’s absolutely sure you’re getting a kick out of making him a flustered mess, because now his cheeks are red and he can’t meet your gaze, “sorry, i don’t mean to fluster you—,” liar, he thinks, “— i just can’t help adoring you.”

“you’re too much for my weak heart,” he mumbles exasperatedly as you cook, looking over at him with that cheeky smile on your face like you know just how much you wreck his heart and his composure.

you seat him at the small-but-not-too-small dinner table, bringing plates of food and finally sitting at the seat across from him, “eat as much or as little as you want, dear.”

he goes to ask before he puts too much thought into the question, “are you not gonna eat-? oh, wait, nevermind, do you not need to?” you nod, smiling.

“i’m grateful that you think of me, angel, but you’re correct: this is all for you,” and while he’d theoretically be hesitant to eat while you just sit there, he finally remembered just how hungry he was, and so it would have taken much more restraint than he currently had to restrain himself.

after dinner, you lead him him to the bedroom in your cottage. emphasis on the singularity in that term, “oh- uh, a-am i going to sleep with you-?” he stutters.

“you can, you don’t have to if you don’t wish to, flower. i don’t really have to sleep so if you want the bed all to yourself, then it’s yours. i just… i thought maybe- you know what,” you tone changes suddenly, and he’d be damned if he didn’t catch it, “nevermind. take the room. call for me if you need me, i’ll be outside with the flowers again-“

“wait!” he calls out as you turn to leave him alone. you look over at him, eyes shining so beautifully in the moonlight.

“yes, my flower?”

he’s flustered once again, but he can’t help wanting you to stay with him. he reaches his hand out to you, similarly to how you reached yours out to him, “stay with me?”

you accept the proposal, sitting on the bed with him, weaving a few flowers into a flower crown while he lays on his side, watching you work on the crown like it was the most entertaining thing in the world.

“i think sunflowers will look pretty against your skin, hyungwon,” you mumble, keeping your voice soft as to not disrupt the peaceful atmosphere you’ve both created, and he smiles bashfully at your words, “truly, i think anything would look beautiful on you, but the yellows would really bring out the strong, almost sensual browns in your eyes. can- can i?”

he nods in consent, sitting up and sitting still for you, and your fingers gracefully position the crown on top of his head, “ah, do i look good with it on?”

“oh absolutely, sweetheart, but,” you scoot closer to him, and once again, his heart beats rapidly and his thoughts evaporate into thin air, replaced by the bashful shyness and the way he’s suffocated by your scent, breathing it in like it’s a drug, “in my opinion, you’re the most beautiful.”

he can’t breathe.

“i-i, um, oh my god,” he stammers, so shy as you smile at how he struggles.

“can i kiss you, pretty boy?” you whisper, your hand raising to hold his cheek as you gaze at his lips. it’s subtle, probably because he was malfunctioning inside, but he nods, closing his eyes and passively waiting for your lips on his.

he didn’t know what to expect, with you being a god and all, but it was so much more than he could have prepared himself for, both mentally and physically. it was a rush if he’d ever felt one, both his body on fire and goosebumps lining his skin.

your style of kissing makes him ache in so many ways. his lips will definitely be bruised from the way you bite them, drawing blood like a vampire but in the kindest way possible, your hand cupping his cheek and you other rubbing his thigh soothingly is enough to keep him from crying out because of the pain.

“stop me, hyungwon,” you mumble under your breath, “if you don’t want this, you need to stop me. tell me to stop and i will,” but how did you ever expect him to do that when he’s already so wrecked and all you’ve done is kissed?

“don’t,” he whispers, “don’t stop, please,” and you oblige, keeping your lips busy on his neck as he groans, reaching out to hold your waist, “please,” he echos his own words weakly.

“tell me what you want, i’ll do it, just tell me,” you see how choked up he is, and it’s cute how easily he’s wrapped around your finger, “tell me, tell me, my flower.”

“touch me more,” he breathes, and you help him throw off his shirt. your hands are all over him in an instant, you press kisses down his neck, paying attention to his chest as your hands wander lower and lower.

he bites his lip in anticipation, but it feels just like how it felt when you bit his lip before and he audibly moans at the recent memory. it’s almost embarrassing when he realizes just how openly and easily he’s been moaning since you started.

and it’s not like he exactly expected a warning, but he wasn’t ready for when one of your hands started rubbing his crotch and making him moan and whine helplessly, “please don’t tease me.”

“hm, alright, sweet thing. how about i ride you? would you like that?” he nods desperately, weak at the thought of you using him for your own pleasure and leaving him to drown in the overwhelming pleasure you give him, “take off your pants and underwear, then.”

he scrambles to do as you say, watching with his jaw dropped as you make the garments you wear all but disappear with just a wave of your hand, and he’s intimately reminded that you’re not human, that he shouldn’t have trusted you so implicitly as to let you put him in this position, and that he’s playing a game where he doesn’t know the rules.

but then he sees the genuineness in your smile, the way you treat him so kindly yet assertively, soft yet harsh, and he just can’t fathom being in any real danger when he’s being swallowed by so much pleasure when he’s under you like this.

he’d been zoned out for a few moments until you’re actually riding him already, holding his hand in a softness that makes him weak. he suddenly notices the flowers in your hair, the way your nose crinkles up when you smile down at him, the way looking at your lips reminds him of the ache on his. it’s incredible just how infatuated he is, the way he adores so much being not just under you in a physical sense but also being under your spell.

he moans in such a heavenly bliss, eyes fluttered shut as he can only hear his own voice make sounds that would normally make him embarrassed. he can’t bother to care right now because when he opens his eyes, you seem to like the sounds he makes. and he wants to please.

“hyungwon, d-dear,” you murmur, your hands resting on his chest to keep yourself stable on his chest, “i can’t keep my eyes off of you, baby. you’re absolutely ethereal. so please, can you show me how pretty you are when you cum? can you cum for me, my flower?”

god that name was the most precious thing to him, he wanted to be your beautiful flower forever.

he does cum. he orgasms viscerally, his body trembling as he throws his head back, his jaw slacked as he moans loudly, cumming so hard he can see white.

he stays in that headspace of pleasure, higher than the clouds, for a few moments as the high subsides and he’s left with a euphoric feeling that keeps him shivering with aftershocks, until he starts to hear your voice. you whisper little nothings to him as he starts to come down completely, “i’ve got you, little thing, don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”

he briefly ponders why you keep calling him ‘little thing’ when he’s as tall as he is, but your kisses to him temple take that thought away, “y/n?”

“yes, dear?”

“can you sleep with me?” he asks, not realizing that you already told him that you don’t need to sleep.

still, you can’t resist him when he’s just so adorable with that pout he probably doesn’t even realize he’s making, “of course, let’s clean up just a little bit, and i’ll lay with you while you sleep, angel.”

—

morning comes far too soon. you still have him for another 7ish hours, but once they’re up, he’ll return to his village, to that friend he mentioned, and disappear from your existence forever. it’s almost pitiful how quickly you became attached to the pretty thing.

you look over at him, sleeping so, so peacefully, his cheek squished against the pillow while he pouts and you can’t help but coo at how precious he looks.

it’s impossible to imagine a life anymore where you can’t keep looking at his face, at his pretty lips (that are covered in bruises in a way that makes this moment a bit less melancholic and innocent), at the softness in his eyes when he gazed at you. what a miserable fate that would be to live through.

“what’s on your mind?” you hear him groan tiredly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. you go to object, say ‘of course it’s nothing just go back to sleep dear’, but he catches it and, even in the early morning, he won’t take a lie.

“i just… you have a life to return to, and i don’t want to deprive you of that. i’ve just grown to like you, is all,” you murmur as you run your fingers through his hair, hearing his soft gums of contentment, “an existence of being by yourself might make one somewhat… easily attached.”

hyungwon doesn’t know how to respond, but he sits up, despite the tiredness that still rests in his body, he moves to get himself out of bed, using his hand to brush his hair out of his face, “we still have time together, so let’s do something you want to do.”

“like what?” you smile sadly, “what should we do?”

“hmm…” he makes a really cute face when he thinks, you realize, and it just makes you fall a little bit more, “well you really like flowers right?”

“of course,”

hyungwon’s face lights up, like he’s had a sudden realization, “oh! then what if we painted? i have minhyuk’s paints in my bag!! minhyuk told me to hold onto them for the day and i kept them on me!”

“wha- what if your friend doesn’t want you to use them?” you stutter, but you can feel that you’re already on board.

“then that’s his problem!”

now to be honest, painting was not hyungwon’s strong suit, but he had such a fun time with mixing colors and making flowers that don’t really look like flowers come to life on the many wooden walls of your cottage. neither of you had brushes either, so it was really just fingerpainting, and by the end, your hands were covered in myriads of greens and yellows and pinks reds and blues tinted by the white, they were almost works of art themselves.

and after hours of painting, making more flower crowns, even teaching him to make flower crowns, and more activities, your time with him was dwindling. of course, he doesn’t have to leave, but the time that he had to stay was slowly slipping away from you.

“hyungwon,” you mumble, getting his attention as he sits on the couch while you were supposedly making tea. you raise your hand, displaying a bright red apple, “this is the one from yesterday, right?”

“y-yeah, i think so, why?”

“i- come here, please.”

he wobbles over to the kitchen, sitting beside you as you show off the fruit, “what’s going on?”

“remember when you told me the apple lead to you the statue?” he nods, “this apple is blessed with my energy. it’s… magical, in a human sense. i just want to apologize for decieving and likely confusing you yesterday,” you look down at the fruit, shiny and glowing red with liveliness, “but i have a… proposal of sorts.”

“i- alright, what is it?”

“take a bite,” you say, your tone heavy with implications of what will happen, “take a bite, and stay with me, will you?”

“what- what about my family? my friend? what about the life that i have?” he asks, but it’s all rhetorical, he doesn’t expect a serious answer, “i was willing to give you a day, i can’t give you my life.”

why can’t you, you feel the urge to murmur to him, why can’t you give that all up? you know i’m all you want now, you’ll only spiral down even further into me, “you don’t have to eat it all, just a bite, just one.”

“what- why are you so adamant that i eat that apple?”

“because!” your voice cracks ever so slightly, and once again his heart aches and he rushes to attempt to soothe you, to hold your heart in his hands and never once let it be hurt, “because you are all i want, hyungwon,” you mumble as he hugs you, resting your head against him, “because i want you to return to your friend and your village, but i’m selfish, i’m so, so selfish. this is the best middle ground i could think of.”

“...what does taking a bite entail?” he asks tentatively, and his heart jumps when he sees your eyes shine with hope. whether or not you know it, you’ve got him good.

“half the time, you’ll be mine. your soul has to reside in my domain, your heart will constantly ache for me,” you murmur, your hands suddenly wandering and he chokes out a moan, “but the rest of the time, you can return to the village. you can return to your life, and i will not make any attempts to steal you away during that time.”

he’s left speechless, not exactly sure what you’d want him to say now, but you place the apple in his hands, pressing a few faint kisses to the edge of his lips just to fluster him, but then you disappear outside. he watches you through the window as you tend to your flowers, picking a sunflower to place into your hair. he’s so entranced by the way you move that he can barely focus on what he needs to focus on: the apple.

he wonders what minhyuk is feeling right now. he’s probably worried to death, horrified out of his mind that his friend just disappeared into the forest. he wants so badly to go back and reassure him that nothing bad happened and go back to the way things were except things would be better.

but he does also feel a sense of… devotion? infatuation? love, maybe? whatever it is, he feels something towards you. his heart aches to please you, to do in this situation what would make you happy. the way you looked when you were so emotionally vulnerable with him, you didn’t seem like a god that he had to worship in that moment, you seemed like a soul that he wanted to love. it’s this feeling deep in his soul that just leaves him, both his heart and his body, utterly defenseless to the prospect of you.

so this is the end of him as he’s been for his whole life. or at least, in a sense, half of him. he’s grateful that you went outside to let his head clear just a bit, it’s always so clouded with you and your scent and your aura that he feels delusional. he tosses the apple around anxiously as he tries to decide what to do, but in the end, there’s not a chance in the world that he could ever go against what would make you happy.

he tries to delude himself into thinking it’s a conscious choice he makes, but he knows he’s lying; he just doesn’t want to accept it. he’s been a wreck since the moment you lured him away with the very apple he holds, there’s not a single reality in which he gives you up. his heart aches to protect yours, and his body wishes to be ruined by yours.

he takes a bite. he’s yours.

—

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[sunflowersteves]

alive and well || b.f.

summary || whoever was in the familiar green armor before you was about to feel your wrath for stealing what wasn’t theirs. 

author’s note || this is my first boba fic so pls go easy. it was also way longer than i intended and very sad but i hope you all enjoy!

warnings || angst, sadness, fluff, soft!boba

masterlist

You never thought you would be back in the place you dread most. You hated it—your body filled with pure contempt as your feet trudged across the hot sands. Jabba’s Palace looked almost exactly the same as you remembered it. The red rusty metal gleamed against the blazing suns of Tatooine.

You could feel the bounty hunter’s eyes behind you, making sure to escort you into the large building. Everything was dark, with no light or windows to pave the way in front of you. The bounty hunter pushed you forward, and you let out a groan, almost falling onto the ground. Despite knowing that they can’t see you, you still send them a glare. 

The aura took no mercy on everyone around it; cruelty and greed were highly regarded above all else. There was always someone on top, someone that ruled over others. Someone always had control over the forsaken land and its people. 

And that was currently Bib Fortuna. 

After that day, you wanted absolutely nothing to do with that place. Bib tried to convince you otherwise, but you sneered at him and spoke in a venomous tone.

“There will never be a day when I’ll want to come back to this wretched place.”

So having one of his lackeys come and ask for your presence had confused you. He was aware of what would happen if you came back, of what would happen to him if you came back. You blamed all of them for what had happened on that day, and you would make them pay. 

The bounty hunter pushed you slightly for what felt like the hundredth time, hinting for you to get a move on. You want to squeeze your eyes shut at the familiar stairwell, bile rising in your throat. You thought of him and those brown eyes staring back at you. You thought of his lips and how they felt against your cheeks. You thought of his skin and how it felt flushed against yours, the heat radiating off onto you. You thought about his hand clinging to yours, feet dangling in front of the Sarlacc pit. You thought about those soft words that poured through the modulator of the helmet. 

“It’s okay, little one. It’ll be okay. Let go.”

Your boots touch the hard ground of the cantina area, the music loud with dancers floating on tables and customers chugging Spotchka. Your eyes trailed from table to table to watch everyone with a sneer. 

You knew you shouldn’t have come back to this place, a wave of disgust washes over you. Your eyes follow to the center of the room, right where the throne is. You expected Bib Fortuna to be sitting there with a smug expression while he whipped one of his slaves. You expected Bib Fortuna to want something from you, to exploit your services for his own gain. 

But what you weren't expecting was to see him. No, his armor. There was no possible way that that was him. You had watched him die. You had watched him fall into the depths of the Sarlacc pit, the tears stinging your eyes as he let go. 

So who the fuck is this?

The newly painted armor shined against the dim lights; it looked brand new. It didn’t have the chipped paint that you remember or the small bits of rust packed on the side. The visor was locked in your direction; whoever was underneath your riduur’s helmet was staring at you.  

Before you could even really think, you pointed a blaster straight at the helmet. The whole room becomes dead with silence, anticipation leaking from the walls. The amount of respect held for the thief before you had surprised you quite a bit. Bib Fortuna only had Jabba’s reign that kept him at the top. So whoever this being was, they were highly regarded and feared by others around the cantina. 

The mercenary next to them immediately reacted back with a blaster now pointed directly at your head. But it didn’t phase you. You held your ground and spoke with pure venom against your voice, “Take it off.”

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t look at the mercenary that spoke. Your eyes set right on the black visor. Honestly, you straight up ignored her, and the blaster pointed at you. You didn’t care, not when someone was wearing his armor. 

“That armor doesn’t fucking belong to you. Take it off.”

“That armor does belong to him.”

You wanted to give her an exasperated look. You know who the armor belongs to, and it wasn’t them. There was no possible way that it was theirs. “No, It doesn’t. He probably found it somewhere. Kriffing—take it off.”

She smirked. “Or what?”

Your eyes finally flick over towards the mercenary with your hardened gaze never wavering. You spoke your next words carefully, making sure that every syllable was articulated. You wanted everyone in Jabba’s Palace to know just exactly who you were. 

“I peel it off his dead body.”

Her fingers pressed against the trigger, you mentally prepared yourself for the mistake you were making. The entire cantina was full of people who would shoot you in a split second. She was almost about to shoot when a booming voice rang against the walls. 

“Everyone out!”

You almost had to double-take at the sound of that voice. You knew that voice. You knew that voice better than your own. You could spot the click of his tongue and the shake of his vocal cords. Your gun only lowered slightly as you try and decipher whether or not your ears were playing tricks on you.

It took some convincing for the mercenary to leave, but everyone filed out as quickly as possible. The helmet, however, stayed right on you. He never wavered or faltered as everyone rushed out of the room. Your hand reacted quickly at the movement of his hands; the blaster pointed at his head again. He lifted his hands before slowly reaching his helmet. Once he saw that you weren’t going to shoot him, he started to lift his helmet. The hissing sound lifted into your ears as he slowly showed his face and the scene before you made your heart stop.

It was him.

He was alive. He even looked well. 

Your riduur was sitting right in front of you on a fucking throne. He was much different, that much you saw. There were new scars that were scattered on his face, and he didn’t have the fluffy black hair you once remembered. There were small wrinkles that deepened his smile lines, and his eyes had a sense of void in them. 

Before, they were lively and spirited. Before, they shined bright against many suns and glowed in the depths of moons. But now, they seemed duller, more broken.

You lowered your gun ever so slowly. Was it really him? Was the love of your life really standing before you? You didn’t know how many moments had passed that had been spared from the time you had been staring at him. You even didn’t know how long it had been since you started crying, the tears soaking your cheeks and dripping down your chin. 

“Boba, is—is that really you?”

The soft pillows of your voice struck his ears, and he could’ve sworn it was the most beautiful sound he had heard in quite some time. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes as he thought about the days, weeks, and years you went through, knowing he didn’t make it on that day. But, you were here. His little one was right in front of him, flesh and blood. 

“It’s really me, little one. I’m here. I’m alive.”

You were closer to him now, having taken a few steps onto the throne. A part of you wanted to reach out and touch his face, to hold him and never let go. However, the other part didn’t want to pressure him. What you had was in the past, far away from the surface of what once was. 

Before you could even make a decision, Boba grabbed you so desperately into his lap. The cool metal your body felt made you ache, pure fire burning through your body as he quickly took off his gloves. He needed to feel you. He needed to feel the soft crevasses of your skin, the rough calluses that grew beneath you, the edges and rounds of each and every part of your body. 

Your hands immediately went to rest on his cheeks, a gasp leaving his lips at the sensation. You didn’t waste any more seconds and pressed your lips against his, mouths colliding and mushing against one another. His hands roamed your body in desperation, his fingertips tingling at the familiar feel of your silky skin.

In between each kiss, you both sputtered out sweet words, grabbing and twisting at every waking moment. “I missed you. I’ve never stopped missing you.” He let out a breath, “you were always on my mind, little one. There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think of you.”

You never thought that this moment would come to life—you had dreamed of it many times. You never thought you would ever see him again except for your memories. But he was here. He was right in front of you—kissing you, loving you. “I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. You are my alit, my one true love.”

“I love you, I love you, I love—” You cut him off with another kiss, begging for those lips to never leave yours. Your hands ran down his chest plate, the hard surface struck upon the pads of your fingers. Your lungs screamed at you for some type of relief, but you never wanted to give in. 

“Never leave. Never leave me again. Never—”

“I’m never leaving. For as long as you want me, I’m yours.”

You shook your head slightly at yourself, “I should've looked for you. I should’ve gone there to save you. I should’ve held onto you tighter. I should’ve tried harder—”

He quickly grabbed your hands and held them tightly against his chest. His mouth pressed kisses against your cheeks and nose before diving back to your lips again. 

“Cyare, there was nothing you could’ve done. I was dead. I was gone. By luck, I was saved, and I knew you’d come back to me. I always knew.”

Your cheeks were still wet from the buckets of tears that had poured out of your eyes. Your hands shook slightly from the pure shock of the moment. But none of that mattered. All that mattered was that you were home. You were with him, and that’s all you could ever ask for. Your riduur found his way back into your arms. 

~~

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[ddarker-dreams]

Pandora’s Box. Yan Chrollo x Reader

Warnings: Medicine mention, descriptions of anxiety, and implied minor character death. Word count: 2.7k.

A simple plan is the best kind to have. 

The less variables at play, the higher your rates of success are. You’ve anticipated some margin of error, a safety net of sorts, to be used if necessary. Everything within your realm of influence has been taken into account. Your friend in a car meeting you at a dead spot, a train ticket purchased with a prepaid visa card on a VPN, and a few precious pieces of jewelry to be pawned off at a later time. Scraping these assets together is a commendable feat, having to skulk around to make it this far.

Nothing feels out of the ordinary, you think. Your preparations are almost complete. All that’s left is to wait to ensure the beast in hiding cannot come for you.

Prayer doesn’t traditionally feel worth the effort -- any god that’d allow you to be subjugated to a hell such as this is no god worth pleading to -- but tonight is different. Tonight you pray to any deity that may spare you some pity, that this plan may succeed without a hitch. The time signals the beginning of the next phase, the most vital aspect. 

Tonight’s soup had an additional ingredient, a generous helping of sleep inducing pills. To avoid suspicion, you partook in the meal as usual, hoping to cancel out the effects later by ingesting a gratuitous amount of energy drinks. It served the original purpose of fending off fatigue, but not without presenting a unique set of problems of its own. The caffeine has served to heighten your anxiety, upping what was already a nerve-wracking experience to a new level. 

Your guts feeling like they’re rearranging themselves, your body not capable of forgoing fidgeting a single moment. No longer can you tell if it’s nausea, stomach pain, or hyperventilation. Maybe it’s everything at once. All you know is that you’ve never had your body working against you more than now. Every nerve is frayed, your senses on high alert to any shadow or noise.

Deep breaths no longer bring you reprieve. Each raggedy breath you manage to squeeze out is an accomplishment, overshadowed by the fear that he might hear you. How irrational a thought, that Chrollo would be capable of picking up on the differences in your breathing from afar. It doesn’t matter how illogical the worry may be. With Chrollo, you’ve learned that nothing is impossible. To expect the unexpected has been the mantra of your mind these past few months. 

Just a bit longer... I need to know he’s asleep for sure. Or else it’s over.

Your foot taps against the ground in a frantic rhythm, ears ringing like funeral tolls. The last time you dared peak into your shared room with Chrollo, he was supposedly fast asleep, out like a light. What should’ve been a cause for victory brought nothing but a fresh wave of dread. A guessing game ensues. Trying to decipher his body language from earlier for hints only serves to make you feel worse. You’ve been so cautious, walking on sheets of thin ice at every move. Chrollo hadn’t acted out of the ordinary to your knowledge. Not that he has a way of acting ‘ordinary’ anyways, your limited understanding of his person having to suffice. 

Should everything be going according to your design, your friend will be in position to pick you up. There’s no more stalling, the point of return ahead of you.

It’s time.

You do a final check over your mental checklist. Your backpack is stocked with the necessities: toiletries, a few changes of clothes, a filtered hydro flask, non perishable foods and your train ticket. To any onlooker it might look like you’re going hiking. Sporting worn sneakers, loose-fitting clothes, and having your hair pulled away from your face. This is really it. The culmination of sneaking around behind Chrollo’s back for months, unfolding before your very eyes. Everything is falling into place as it’s meant to.

You walk to the door. 

Each step you take is quiet as can be. Every shuffle of clothes, or the slightest of creaks from the floorboards, causes you to wince and pause. This penthouse has served as your personal circle of hell for months on end, the walls absorbing your cries and screams. You despise this place with every fiber of your being. The antique décor, the ancient texts that lay strewn about, the scent of sandalwood that you find nauseating. 

Ghosts of the past return to haunt you as you walk through different areas. Swirling around your head, they threaten to consume you, chipping away at your resolve. His hypnotic voice resonates in your mind like whispers of the serpent in the garden, tempting you. Weighing you down. Not even your own mind is a safe haven from his speech that disguises itself as flowery, when the reality is far more sinister. Chrollo’s words are constricting vines, lined with thorns, embedding themselves deeper into your flesh the harder you try to pry them out. 

“Don’t you remember how difficult your life was before me?” 

Another step.

“All those people who left you, who took advantage of you?” 

Your hands shake around your small, homemade EMP. It’s made from spare parts you managed to find around the penthouse, clumsily assembled through trial and error. The pulse it emits is next to nothing. Copper coils threaten to fall loose at any second when you raise it to the security system by the door. Holding your breath, you press down on the trigger. The device lets out rapid clicking sounds, the security monitor flickering before going blank. 

“I know you’ll come around.” 

Finally, come the excessive locks on the door. The compressed air you said you needed for cleaning is next up. The can is cool against your trembling fingers, white specs decorating the locks as you spray them over. With some persistence, they come undone, one after the other. Unshackling you from the depths. You open the door that’s mocked you relentlessly for months, withholding your prized freedom. 

“But even in the event that you don’t...” 

The surrounding world is a blur of colors. Your eyes don’t focus on any object for too long, scanning your surroundings for potential threats. It feels as if your stomach is in your throat when the elevator starts its descent. He had you up on the fiftieth floor? 

You fixate on the screen, numbers not flashing by fast enough for your liking.

40. 

20.

5. 

1.

“Well. There are always ways of overcoming inconveniences such as that.” 

It’s an extravagant lobby. Far more luxurious than you could ever have hoped to afford, this building being one of the most exclusive in Yorknew. The person at the front desk calls out and you ignore it. You must look mighty suspicious, not that you care. The priority now is escape. Running out the revolving door, crisp autumn air greets you. You’ve never felt more grateful for the bustling streets of the city. Even at night the city remains awake, making it easier to blend in. No one out here spares you a second glance as you weave in and out of fast paced crowds. 

23rd street. That’s where you’ll meet up with your friend, who will then transport you to the subway. Glancing up at the signposts, you realize you’ll be in for some walking. There’s no letting your guard down. Constantly looking over your shoulder, all you see are the faces of strangers. You’ve never felt so grateful to be a part of a crowd. 

Finally, after walking for what feels like an eternity, you spot your beacon of hope. A clothing store’s bright neon sign, which your friend sits parked in front of. Since these stores are closed this time of day, the crowd that once surrounded you have thinned out, yet you try not to fixate on the lack of cover. Jay walking across the street doesn’t prove to be an issue. The pollution from the city hides the stars behind a layer of smog, streetlamps your lone source of light.

Heart hammering in your chest, you tap on the window of her car with urgency. “Amelia, it’s me. [First].” 

You hear the doors unlock. 

Taking it as a sign she heard you, you waste no time swinging into the passenger seat of the car. Amelia immediately turns the keys, car humming to life. Your chest heaves with exhaustion from the draining events. This is it. The second to last step before you reclaim your freedom. It’s almost like a dream, the light at the end of a long tunnel. Amelia’s appearance is just as you recalled it. Hazel eyes, tan skin, long black hair, and an average build. Your heart leaps at the sight of her.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” your friend confesses in a hushed whisper. “[First], what... what happened? You completely fell off the face of the Earth for months. Then you contact me out of nowhere? What’s going on?” 

It isn’t easy meeting her eyes, so you don’t. “I... I don’t know if it’s safe to talk about it. The less you know, the better.”

She takes a moment to assess you before sighing. “Alright, I can tell this is serious. Just... I’m glad you’re alright.” 

Amelia begins driving without another word. Silence hangs in the air, offering a time to reflect. Your plan, Chrollo, what you’ll do next... it whirls around your head like a vortex. A gut feeling refuses to leave you alone whenever you picture his face. A dreadful thought that this entire escapade was too easy. Is it just your paranoia? It could very well be. Hugging your backpack closer to you for comfort, you’re startled by Amelia suddenly speaking up.

“The subway station, huh,” she reminiscences aloud, eyes flickering from the road to you. “So you’re leaving Yorknew?” 

There’s no way to continue dodging her questions. “... Yeah, I am.” 

“Where are you going?” 

It’s natural she’d have lots of questions. Had the situation been reversed, you’d have plenty of your own. For her wellbeing you don’t want to indulge more than necessary. Lying to someone who is helping you lives a sour taste in your mouth. It’s for her sake, you remind yourself. Having to involve Amelia in this at all was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“I’m going to Zaban City. I have some extended family there.” 

Amelia hums in confirmation to your story. “Your cousin, right?” 

“Right.” 

She stops pressing that particular subject, likely sensing your apprehension. You take advantage of the peaceful atmosphere and close your eyes. The sleeping pills from earlier are starting to grow more prominent. Losing consciousness is the last thing you need right now, but indulging in some much needed rest sounds too inviting. 

“There was something else I was wondering about.” Amelia starts, earning your attention. Looks like sleep will have to wait for later. You yawn, stretching your weary limbs, and wait for her to continue. She smiles, dark eyelashes fluttering shut in deep thought.

“Oh, sweet [First],” she whispers your name in the gentlest of tones, and looks over at you. “Why are you so selfish?” 

You blink, the words not settling in immediately. “What...?” 

She continues without missing a beat. “You used to be so envious of me. Always pretending to play nice, because you were too passive to say how you really felt. How you hated me.” 

“Amelia? What are you talking about? I... I never hated you, what--” 

“Even now you can’t bring yourself to admit the truth,” she sighs. “Not that I’m surprised. You’ve always cared way too much about what people think. Why would now be any different?” 

Her unexpected attack on your character has you shifting in your seat. Every word that leaves her lips is in her voice, yet feels so different than her normal character. Did something happen in the time Chrollo took you away? Anxiety rears its ugly head at the line of questioning. You take a sudden interest in your fingers, playing with them on your lap. 

“I don’t understand where any of this is coming from.” You admit, eyebrows furrowing together. The shift in atmosphere is tangible. What was once a warm reunion under stressful times has corrupted into a frosty confrontation. These insecurities of hers that laid dormant in your heart... why is she bringing this up now? In your most vulnerable hour? Nothing is making sense. These ugly feelings of yours were only ever confided in one person. 

“You knew it’d be a danger to my life to contact me. You knew that, and still you did it all the same. I wonder why that is. Could it be... that you wouldn’t care if I died? If I was tortured for aiding your escape?” 

Your heart drops. This knowledge... how can she know any of this? Amelia used the word escape, clear as day. Is that a coincidence? You look over at the car door, seeing it’s locked. Something’s not right here, you deduce. I don’t know what it is exactly, but something is very wrong...! 

She continues on. “I really do want to know what your justification for this is. Out of everyone you could’ve picked for help, you specifically chose me, knowing the danger it’d bring. Did you think I’d be spared in some sort of miracle?” 

The spare moonlight streaming in illuminates Amelia’s face, highlighting how pale her skin looks. Veins that would normally not have been so prominent have a blue tint, her lips a similar shade. Your eyes drop to the unnaturally large scarf that surrounds her neck. It’s not that cold out yet, why is she wearing something so cumbersome? Reaching out with unsteady hands, you pull the fabric back. Your gut feels like it’s been punched at the sight, eyes widening in horror. 

On the back of her neck is an antenna, with bat wings on the end. 

Shit! Shit, shit, shit-- 

In a frenzy, you stretch forward, searching for the button to unlock the car door. The second you find it, it’s pressed, and you unbuckle your seatbelt. You hear her speaking up again. Your heart feels like it’s about to burst from your chest as you jump out the car, grateful it isn’t going too fast. Skin meeting asphalt, you hiss at the pain, rolling onto your side. None of that matters now. How did he do it? He has to be nearby, maybe you can still make it to the station in time. Your head hurts from the impact, legs wobbling like jelly. 

It’s difficult to focus. You grit your teeth, utilizing the remnants of your strength to get to your knees. Why did the caffeine have to wear off so soon...? It was going so well. You finally had your chance, your time to take back your life. To go back to how things were. Struggling to get to your feet, you throw your backpack off, praying the lost weight will help you get up. 

“You never answered my questions,” calls a deeper voice. You gulp back acidic bile as a hand is extended in front of you. “I was hoping you would.” 

Your head hangs down. It’s over. For a transgression such as this, you imagine you’re in for quite the punishment. How funny a thing fate is. Similar to streams of rushing water, there are many twists and turns, leading you down paths you never wanted to go. Fingernails dig into the sensitive flesh of your palms, the pain anchoring your wandering mind to reality. All other parts of your body have lost feeling. Numbness is what you’ve come to know. 

The devil incarnate bends over, taking your tearstained face into his fingers, and lifting it to meet his eyes. An abyss of grey stares back at you, devoid of humanity. Taking pleasure in besting you yet again. Disappointment is mixed within an interest to see what you’ll do next. There’s no smile on his face as you’ve come to expect. You see an empty shell of a man glowering down at you, from a place just out of reach. 

“I can’t say I’m too pleased about this, [First]. We’ll need to have a long discussion, don’t you think?” 

#chrollo lucilfer #chrollo #chrollo imagine #chrollo lucilfer imagine #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo imagine #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #Hunter X Hunter #hunter x hunter imagine #yandere hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter imagines #hxh x reader #yandere hxh x reader #my stuff

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Heyo! I was wondering if you could do a scenario during the uprising arc where the reader starts to realize she has feelings for Levi but at first he rejects her? Then during the night before Shiganshina he realizes about her feelings and ends up returning them knowing he doesn't want her to get hurt or die? Some angst fluff please and thank you!

Okay anon you have no idea how much I enjoyed writing this. It's super long and I love how it came to me so naturally. I hope you enjoy

Warnings: a little angst!?

Tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Promise

It all started at the sight of his wet fingertips grazing the broken rim of a teacup. A flutter, a feisty spark in your heart that seemed to drown it in full might had made its presence known to you in a very particular, unwanted moment. The flicker of a tiny flame danced before your eyes, sat at the frame of the window near the sink where you proceeded to rinse through washed dishes.

Levi's pale, chapped skin pulled on his knuckles leaving an unnatural yellowish white tone behind, indicating his involvement with excessive amounts of cleaning products. And for the first time, the sight really pulled a string in your poor heart in a way that was enough to convince you to break the dense silence in the room.

But maybe, you thought, Levi wouldn't want to talk to you.

With an unforgiving steel gaze he stared at your face, blinking in soft, yet erratical paces as you stopped plumping the water from running. In response your tongue was forced to slip inside your mouth and push any unspoken word back to its source, in the depths of your brain. All of a sudden you felt so afraid to talk, so petrified by the general idea of a three syllabus word that wouldn't ever spare the misery off of anyone.

Rejection

Captain seemed to be on the rejective side nevertheless so nothing regarding your newly discovered feelings would matter to him anyway, so in a way you blamed yourself for getting overwhelmed with this whole situation. A dark cloud of doubt shadowed your mind with the intention of interrogating your heart's intentions; perhaps you were mistaken. How on earth could you have been in love with the short man, you didn't know. There were far too many differences between the two of you, be it in appearance, mannerism or even -and more importantly- experiences. Supposing you had lived through similar occurances in battles outside the walls was enough for anyone to consider the two of you to be very alike, it was at least dishonorable to compare your childhood or teenage years to his.

"Nice hands" Of course you had managed to utter the most embarrassing choice of words to him, your mind could never cooperate with you when it came to such serious situations, something you hated so very much. The obnoxious dryness of your eyes was slowly migrating in the caves under your tongue, you could feel your mouth drying more and more by each passing second, yet you did nothing to prevent it.

Judging by Levi's puzzled expression which included his head slightly tilting forward as if to hear you better you knew he was as awestruck as you were at your own words. "I don't really understand where you're coming from but thank you, I guess." He spoke, the usual monotone tint staining his voice. You whipped your head back to a fixed position -on your hands this time- to stare down at the sink. The awkward glances you would throw at him went seemingly unnoticed and as time passed by you felt your tention overwhelming you, this time, completely.

Levi wasn't dense to any body language thrown at him and you were painfully aware. His cold eyes never spared you not even a half cornered look as he rubbed the little sponge on the soap bar next to him. His fingers danced on the ceramic plate, cleansing it in fast and very effective movements, leaving you staring in awe. Whether he was ignoring you on purpose or not you didn't know and you didn't want to seek an answer as to why but at this rate he would probably be the one to inquire why you were burning holes in his hands with your gaze. Again.

"I'm so sorry I'm fixated on your hands" Your mouth run, ignoring your mind's orders to stay shut "It's just-" Dammit think quick for once "You have nice nail beds."

There it was. The evidence that your words had actual brains and that they formed the most improper sentences on their own, just to torture you and push you deeper into piles of goowey, mushy shit. If Levi was anyone else he would have been laughing his ass of at the stupidness of your speech, you knew you would be laughing too if this wasn't as serious. Just as you were sure you heard a chuckle Levi placed the sponge on the bar of soap carefully and extended his arm, fully displaying his hand.

He seemed to study it like it was the first time he had ever even noticed it. The slick, long fingers, the oval shaped nails, his torn open knuckles. Perhaps you were kidding him for the lack of hair on the base of fingers he used to hold his blades with, those were burnt with years of being worn out by the steel triggers of the blades. He speculated this was common among most soldiers, so it didn't seem like a reason to be kidded for and in addition you never were the person to just spit senseless insults as jokes to your comrades.

"Is there even a point to talk about my hands? They're normal hands to me."

You bit your lip as your eyes widened in shock. Realisation hit you that this was probably more that absurd to Levi as it was to you, seeing you had started to talk about his hands out of nowhere. Your mind, in a state of panic, was in the midst of attempting to process every idiotic sentence you had the audacity to blurb out, but it never seemed to find an answer. Boiling with embarrassed, you wiped the water of your hands to your pants, an act that caught Levi's eye, and went to grab the first wooden chair that was in your path. You needed to sit down, to process whatever this was.

Yet, the only explanation you could find was that there was a raging wildfire in the pits of your stomach everytime your thoughts wandered on Levi. Yes, it was possible that what had started as an admiration, a tiny spec of a crush for the slender featured man had been growing on you since forever, but you had always burried it deep, in any hellhole that should accommodate such emotions as this was war and not the plot of sappy romance novel.

The air was cut down short in the room when Levi sat at a chair beside you, watching you over in such demanding manner that only he could master. He proceeded to light the only candle that stood at the middle of the table, possibly in hopes of flaring a conversation or causing a sane sequence of sentences to finally fall from your tongue. It was still unbeknownst to him what had caused you to trip over words as if you were a learning toddler and he yearned to find out, as a sole friend, not as the stern corporal he presented himself to be.

"(y/n)" His voice was tender as he spoke either much mindful to the teens who were sleeping in the next room or unwilling to let a private conversation between the two of you be heard. "If you think I can help with whatever is going on quit acting like a brat and tell me what's on your mind."

Momentarily, you wondered whether he'd stick to his words in case you spilled your heart's infatuating agony but you felt unable to think of a possible dominating scenario in the chaos of your mind. As self destructive as it sounded, you'd prefer to be the one to break your own heart rather than having to stand back and be a martyr to him tearing it off your chest and tearing it. Knowing Levi, this wasn't anything physically impossible, but you doubt that he could ever be as harsh with you.

"I'm just stressed. I have a lot on my mind."

"Erwin's trial and the future of the scouts, huh? Or is it that Hange works your ass off with those experiments?" You scoffed in denial to all of his inquiries, knowing full well that you could have used them as excuses. Levi's sharp hand began a short trip with sole purpose to land at the top of your head, through your loose locks, in an affectionate manner, a little something you had picked up he would do when he really cared for someone. Everyone knew he wasn't particularly touchy, except for some emotional moments with his closest people; a hand on a shoulder and a pat in the head were mostly what you had witnessed him indulging. His hand ruffling with your hair wasn't profound and new at all, he had done so many times after the two of you would strongly disagree over formations and orders, showing you how much he appreciated your strong wits and your clever ideas. What was new was that the lone touch burned your sculp like hot iron and made your insides twitch.

"I'll make us some tea" the screeching creak of the chair being pushed back shook of your train of thoughts enough to form a reaction to his hand that still rested on your head. Almost as if he didn't want to take it off "We can discuss your problem in a-"

"Sit down" you demanded, voice stern, masked with seriousness that caught him off guard. "Take your hand off my hair, it hurts." You pleaded with your eyes to stay as dry as they were before but you were certainly unsure of whether they'd listen. "Can't you see?"

What was there not to see really. Levi probably knew of your fondness of him way before you managed to realise, as in second thought every move you had ever made in his presence betrayed you. He would have never tried to provoke a confession just to laugh at you, that you were sure of, but he had never made a move in reciprocation either, that alone made you sure of your confessions future's end and caused your gut to spit even more fire to the rest of your insides.

Levi was not perplexed, not even for a single moment, at your words that seeked to stab like daggers, he wouldn't allow himself to be toyed by his own emotions just this once. This is an erratical reaction to his touch, a rejection of his affections towards you and he feared he knew the reason. For someone as bright and emotional as you he never would have thought that you could have hid such tormentous emotions so well inside you, only to end up at this moment of snapping.

As much as he'd like not to be hurt in the slightest by your demeanor he couldn't help but feel a tiny string of his heart being pulled. Suddenly it was evident to him why you couldn't take part in normal conversations around him or why you acted so tense in his presence, why you were so rejective of his touches and he wondered if he should have done anything besides unknownably torture you for so long. Whether his heart wanted to hear a confirmation out of your mouth to it's pained pleading for reciprocation, his mind ignored. The time would never be right and as egoistical as it seemed he couldn't bear to lose someone else that close to him, let alone a significant other. From his experience feelings of love and adoration should never be spoken out loud in this cruel world, amongst soldiers, especially. It wouldn't lead to any good.

When you proceeded to speak the pit in his stomach was already welling in frustration and denial. "Levi we've known each other for years and whatever's forcing me to much on my words should stop."

None can do, this couldn't happen here, now, while being on the run by military police as collective criminal. Levi wouldn't allow you to speak those earth shuttering words, even if wanted for them to chaste kiss his ears and echo through his head. "Not like you haven't figured anyways. I'm so pathetic. To fall for my Capt-"

"Don't you dare utter any other word of that sentence. I won't forgive you if you do." His hand reached out to grab yours by the wrist, tightly, as if he didn't know you couldn't stand the intensity of the grip. The silence that towed over the room was freezing, irrational even; it made you want to puke your intestines right onto Levi's shoes. Your heartbeat was so fast, so unrhythmic that you felt like the vital blood red organ would burst out of your chest in a massive mess.

Τhere was an excessive amount of agony emitting from your eyes, slicing through Levi's chest, searching despairately for a sign he had a heart, just to remind you that it didn't belong to you. Your mind traveled through every possible scenario to find a reason as to why you had to endure this, did his affections belong to someone you didn't know of? Hange? Erwin? Nifa seemed to be close to him lately as well. Was he heartbroken before and swore to never love again? You hated that there was not a tiny little space in his heart for you.

Just as this tense moment began, it came to an end when Sasha burst into the room, shotgun on her shoulder and chestnut eyes as sleepy as they could be. Fatigue was overpowering her whole form and it was as evident as ever before your eyes. With a quick, exhausted salute she announced her self, unsure of if you and the captain could see her face under the shadows of the night.

"It's guard change sir!" She spoke.

"I'm coming sweetheart." You got up from the chair you were sat at, breaking your wrist away from Levi's grip in a harsh manner. You didn't spare him a second look as you took another deep breath and locked it in your chest in hopes of seeming a little more mighty. "Go take some rest. You deserve it."

With increasingly fast steps you storm outside the little cottage trying your best not to look back. You wouldn't bear to check if there was still light coming from the kitchen that should indicate Levi's persistent presence. Your knees trembled at the imagery but you wouldn't let your eyes rest behind you not even for a second. He would probably be drinking his tea, unbothered, thinking of anything but you and you would be lying if you were to day that it didn't hurt you. It hurt so much that it sent you on your ass, on the stone tile pattern under your feet. Your heart forced suffocating waves of pain through your whole body only to push out of your eyes in the form of hot, salty tears. As your sobs grew louder and your heartache became unbearable to the point you though you could feel your heart break in two, you pushed the ends of your palms into your eyes sockets to squeeze the pain and itchiness of the tears away. You promised to yourself this was the first and last time you would cry for him.

____

After that night you barely speak with Levi. Aside from following his orders with the eventual 'yessir' as a reply, you have managed to successfully establish a thick barrier between him end you. Your nights of accompanying him in his late hour tea sessions, or teaching him how to knit and embroider were no more. The times you would share your food with him after you'd hear his stomach growl from the small portion he would get were also no more. You had made sure to claim your small acts of affection back to yourself, how could you move on from him if you were trying to be nice.

You would profoundly ignore his gazes, his calls for you at his office at late hours of the night by random cadets. You wouldn't answer to him if it wasn't for something military related and you intended it to keep it that way until the announcements of the feast that would take place before the attempt of retaking wall Maria.

As you passed by a narrow street heading to anywhere away from the crowd of cadets with your drink in your hand, you bumped lousy into the onyx haired male. It was the first time in days or even weeks that you had spared him a glance but your eyes averted his upon impact. You couldn't stand this. It was suffocating you. The clicking of your ankle boots colliding with the ground might have been heard as you turned on your heels to flee the scene but Levi's stern clearing of the throat overshadowed it.

He wasn't having it anymore.

"Oi, wait! Stop on your tracks, this is an order!" He spoke, eliciting a groan out of you as you turned to face him. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Captain, I seek to relax before a very hard mission, spare me with your punishments, I beg of you."

His blood boiled with your every word "Cut the damn crap (y/n) and talk to me like normal." It probably sounded more harsh than he intended but he couldn't find himself in a position to turn back time and rephrase those words. The drained look in your eyes tolled him as well. The fact that you were both so tired by this game of cat and mouse was profound and everywhere in the air around you and Levi didn't know if he could take it anymore.

At first he thought that it was for the best. If you both forgot about your feelings or found ways to distract yourselves by this distance then it would be so much easier for him to push through the upcoming events of Shiganshina, but he was surprised to know he was mistaken. Masking his feelings must have seemed easy when it came to grieve and loss; he'd spent hours in his room, with you, letting everything out and occupying himself with trying to improve his handwriting while doing paperwork, but infatuation, love, was different. Instead of fading by each passing day like anger and grief it only ever became stronger, fonder and more agressive, chewing on his insides in despair. He really did hate that he had allowed himself to feel that way but it was way too late by now. There was nothing he could do and the fact that you ignored him after almost squeezing out that much, much wanted confession was only making him feel more hollow and in pain.

But Levi knew how to control himself, he trusted his ability on that.

"What is there to talk about? Let me live my last day in peace." You barked, your eyes starting to dance towards his direction, landing on his chin, then at the curve of his unfairly full bottom lip, on his button upwards nose.

"Look." He paused, unsure of how to put his words into non hurtful sentences. "If you could just tell me why or share a few words with me. We could damn die tomorrow and I'd regret not ever talking you out of this unfair treatment you're giving me."

You wondered if you should open up your heart to him completely, without accepting any interruption from him just to cleanse your coincidence off of this weight. Upon deciding that there was truly nothing holding you back except for a silly fear of another rejection that could die with you tomorrow you opened your mouth to speak any words that came to your mind.

"Levi, I'm in pain. You rejected me. Plain and simple. I've spent so many nights wondering why I am unworthy of your affections but I can't wrap my head around you anymore."

"Is that the way you feel about me? That you're the one who's unworthy of me?"

"You always think so lowly of yourself. Makes me wonder how you trust your own abilities in battlefield. But yes. So I just want to know who is it for you? Who do you feel you're unworthy of?"

He paused for a moment, to regain any shattered piece of his heart you had thrown back to him with your statement. You didn't hate him, be always knew that, but hearing those words fall out of your mouth engulfed the matter into reality unlike before. He was ready to face it. Even if he was unsure of tomorrow he knew that if he was to stay alive while you were dead he would have torn his own brain out as to avoid overthinking this particular moment.

"You want the truth honestly, brat? I happen to think I'm the one unworthy of you. You've taught me how to write and read, you came into my office to check up on an underground scum like me to see if I was asleep. Dammit you even gave me portions of your food to help me withstand the long nights of sleeping in my chair. What have I done for you? Boss you around? Or is it my looks you're after?"

Your eyes widened at his last statement, momentarily preventing the tears that had gathered in the corners from falling. This wasn't a time to misunderstand his words and act foolish, this was the closest out of a confession you would get from the man and you were awestruck, amazed. If he wanted to know a reason you would give him one.

"I'll admit, you might have the face of an angel Levi and maybe that would initial draw anyone to you, including me but I didn't fall in love with you for that." You could tell he was taken aback by the raw nature of your words only by the small whimper that escaped his throat.

"Over the course of this relationship between us you have been there for me when I couldn't be there for myself, you've helped me improve, your hands are stained with blood and so are mine, but you've knitted with me, you've stitched my wounds, you've let me sleep in your bed when I found a giant cockroach in mine, you're so much more than what you paint yourself to be."

He stared at you with ogling, soft eyes. Had he looked at you like that before you were oblivious but there was something in those steel eyes that magnetised your own gaze, something you couldn't let go off. It was calming the knot in your chest with reassurance, bearing promises of the future but he didn't dare speak on them to ruin the moment. His head closed the distance between the two of you in sharp shiftings and now your lips were brushing his in the most suggestive manner possible. It had all happened so fast that you didn't have a chance to react.

"You realised" he whispered, voice soft as the melancholy of the theme of his words captured your breath "that if you happen to die tomorrow, I, myself will hunt you down, resecure you and then proceed to beat the living shit out of you every single day of your shitty life, right?"

He was so beautiful panting with desire under the moonlight and you would never forget. Out of all times this could have taken place it happened now, hours before a deadly expedition. The feeling of regret flooded your form, his as well for not acting upon your feelings sooner and Levi fought an internal battle as to whether he should kiss you or not. He desired to keep that kiss as a reward that you stayed alive for him but on the other hand he feared that this could well be his last chance to taste you for the first time.

"That's a weird way to say I love you" as his lips brushed closer to yours his heart felt like it would explode, he had pained to claim your lips, just once, just to know the taste of a beloved and he was sure he would be more pained to lose you.

As he pleaded that you came to him tomorrow he pressed his lips on yours, sealing the promise he demanded you to make to him. Your heart melted under the soft lights of a thousand stars.

____

As his arms wrapped around you, tears run down his eyes. That was it. You had fought to keep your promise nail and tooth. You had never managed let him down and to see that you were among the tiny amount of survivors lifted his soul to heaven. The touch of your skin, the salty taste of your neck, it all was real, you were indeed alive and safe in his arms. He wouldn't have to go insane over that fact that he would never get to look into your eyes again.

"I will always keep my promises to you." You hitched with tears running down cheeks, the shock in your core still trembling as ever.

"I know" He panted

"Besides, have you seen yourself in action, I wouldn't want you to hunt me down, oh Lord."

I am. In tears. Also I'm sorry (?) for such in depth descriptions of Levi's hands?

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #levi #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #attack on titan #snk #aot #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman imagine #captain levi #x reader #listen here i am crying #i am not okay #THIS WAS SO CATHARTIC TO WRITE WTF

[lord-of-christmas-lights]

I could post regular Narnia headcanons...

Or I could post the continuation of this post and go into depth about how Eustace and Caspian are affected by deity Narnia. Welcome back to Inhuman Narnia 101 and it turned out just as long as the first one so buckle up.

Check out this post by @dorianviolet for another awesome version of Inhuman AU Caspian

Warnings for slight body horror mentions including blood magic stuff, slight religious themes and theological discussion towards the end.

Before anything: This AU directly contradicts canon a lot. I don't care, that's why it's called an AU. Some of it is deliberate, some of it is accidental. I haven't read the books in a number of years, so this is all based on the movies and general information I've picked up from fanfic and tumblr. Discussion on this post is welcomed, criticism and arguments are not. Thank you.

First off, here is the link to an exploration of Dragoning, the Eustace-centric fic I wrote about this. I refer to it repeatedly in this post so if you want the full thing, there it is.

Second, let's get into this. So in my last post, I talked a lot about Narnia, her general existence in this AU, and her motivations as a character. She wants the people in her world to be a part of her, and no one else. Some of this is a conscious choice, and some of it isn't. Eustace's changes throughout his time in VOTDT are definitely not purposeful. It was his greed that drove him to the treasure, it was his own "curse" in becoming a dragon. That was not Narnia reaching out to him and purposefully trying to mold him to her world. As such, he takes on more of an observing role.

Eustace doesn't ever actually directly address his cousins on the subject of their inhumanity, in this fic or in any other I write. He simply sees it, notes it happening, and moves on. Even in the sections in my fics where the subject of inhumanity in general is brought up between Eustace and one of his cousins, it's always about Caspian, the greater Narnian world, or himself.

"Eustace asks why, and Lucy answers. Narnia changes people, she says. It happens to everyone, but the closer you are to her Heart, the greater it is. I don't know where Dragons are. Perhaps closer than we realized. It's exhilarating, isn't it? Aslan will return us to normal though, at the end of our journey." - AEOD

I don't know why, but I don't like the idea of Eustace trying to directly address the Pevensie brand of inhumanity. That line above takes place after his UnDragoning, after the way he sees things has changed, and I see it as him asking what exactly has changed, you know, why are Dragons different than boys?

That brings me to how Eustace himself changes. Now, if he hadn't gone and turned into a Dragon, I imagine Narnia wouldn't have taken much note of him. He's a random human, stuck-up, not at all in line for ruling her lands, and just kind of exists without much else going on. She still would have affected him a little, as she does to all humans in her world but it would have been almost entirely spiritual with no physical changes. And then we got the greatest fuck around and find out scene ever. He becomes a Dragon.

I love dragons, always have, I have a very deep spiritual connection to these creatures, and as such, I have gone all out on worldbuilding for Narnian Dragons. Again, the quote from AEOD, "...the closer you are to her Heart, the greater it is. I don't know where Dragons are. Perhaps closer than we realized." In the Inhuman AU, Dragons were the first creatures Narnia (the deity) and Aslan made when they created Narnia (the world). They just really liked the dragon shape from other worlds and thought, "Hey wouldn't it be cool if our world was populated by these big fire-breathing lizards?" Now I don't actually remember how often Dragons are mentioned and/or featured in the books so I'm going with my idea that Dragons are a somewhat rare but not extinct species. They have to be created through magical means, often through physical transformation of people or objects, though there are a few known cases of natural-born Narnian Dragons. Eustace's creation was the curse on the treasure, though I don't see his Dragoning as a curse itself. As in, the curse isn't in the being a Dragon, it's in how the Dragon was created. So, Eustace experiences this accidental change into a creature that's closer to Narnia's Heart than pretty much any other being in Narnia. They were her first creations, forged from the fire in the Stars, and they are the closest to her magic. And that gets her attention.

Now, if you went and read AEOD, you'll have noticed that one of Eustace's biggest changes (aside from the obvious physical ones) is his vision. This is just a natural thing for Dragons, they are far more in tune with magic and the earth and everything than everyone else, but Narnia's special interest in him definitely amplifies the hell out of his magic sense.

"The people here say dragons see the oddest of things, and he has to assume it's a hallucination....He refuses to give into its whims, reminds himself it's just his imagination. Until Reepicheep comments on it." - AEOD. Following this quote, Reepicheep mentions to Lucy that her inhumanity is returning faster than Edmund's and Eustace has a total panic attack at the idea that what he's seeing is real. He sees what everyone else does, Lucy's stained fingers and Edmund's ability to manipulate words, but he also notices stuff no one else does like the stars in Edmund's throat and the echoes that follow Lucy's words. This is further cemented after his UnDragoning, where the extra stuff he perceived has vanished. Now the general idea in this AU is that the closer to Narnia's Heart you are, the more you know and perceive. Everyone can see some of the more obvious inhuman aspects of the Pevensies, but there are things that only Dragons, druids, Stars, and some other magic folk really close to Narnia's Heart see. I'm not going to get into an exact chart of what certain characters can and cannot see because that can change over time and such and I'd rather leave it mostly up to personal interpretation on what other characters do and do not perceive about the Pevensies and other such inhuman characters.

(Side note—I had to pause in the writing of this post here to go to my second meeting for an autism assessment and I think if I just showed the doctor my notes app and the inhuman/dark fantasy narnia tag on my blog, I'd get the diagnosis instantly lol) So anyways, Narnia senses Eustace becoming a Dragon and is like "Ooohoo what's this?" and starts sort of digging into him in the same way she does to her Kings and Queens. This triggers his already enhanced perception of Narnia (the world) to get even stronger, and this is when he starts seeing stuff like people's souls, Caspian's second heart (more on that soon), and looking at Lucy/Edmund/Lilliandil becomes almost painful because Narnia's magic is so bright in them. Aslan then UnDragons him, which Narnia really doesn't like btw, and Eustace is back to being a fairly average human.

This is where stuff established in AEOD ends.

Now I have so many ideas and half finished fanfics written out in my notes app about Eustace, UnDragoning, and inhumanity and it would be impossible to cover them all here, so I'm just going to go with the highlights. One of my favorite ones is the idea that after Eustace's UnDragoning, he still feels very connected to being a dragon. He's had this taste of pure inhumanity, and something like that doesn't just leave a person. There's a fic I read once long before I was fully invested in this fandom about Eustace and draconity that I will never stop thinking about and was actually the reason I started considering Eustace and Narnian Dragons in this AU. One of the really important things to note is that once a Dragon is created, they can never be uncreated. They can be UnDragoned, where their physical form is returned to whatever it was before their Dragoning (a rock, a talisman, a faun, etc) but their soul has changed on a fundamental level to that of a Dragon. Now for Eustace in my Inhuman AU, this manifests spiritually as a deep longing to return to being a Dragon. Physically, he experiences fun side effects like increased heat tolerance, nails that grow faster than normal, and because Narnia likes to meddle, a single ridge of scales along his spine. In some versions of my drafts, he stays at the end of VOTDT and experiences a slow Dragoning because Narnia's influence on him is that strong, other versions he stays but never quite returns to the Dragon he was before, and in yet other versions, he returns to England and loses that connection enough that physically, he will never be a Dragon again. As I said, Narnia is fascinated by him, she's never really had a human Dragon before, but he is still just a random guy who happens to be related to the Pevensies and as such, she doesn't invest as much time or magic into his inhumanity.

So that's Eustace. This is already such a long post but I promised to talk about both him and Caspian so here we go.

Now, in my last post I talked a bit about how Narnia (the deity) affects the other humans in Narnia (the world) to an extent, but it's nowhere near the amount she does to her Kings and Queens, and also this diminishes more and more the farther you get from Narnia (the country). Telmar is fairly close to Narnia (the country) but as we see in PC, a lot of Narnia's magic and spirit has been diminished by the time Caspian is born. Up until the awakening of the land during the battle, Caspian is essentially 100% human. However, this changes very quickly.

It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment Caspian becomes a King of Narnia. Is it when he refuses to kill Miraz? Is it when Aslan tells him he's one? Is it during his actual coronation? Yes, yes, and yes. I try not to pin it down to an exact moment. By the end of PC though, he's definitely noticing some changes in himself. I have an unpublished part 2 to an exploration of Inhumanity (my only other actually posted fic on this stuff) that I swear I will clean up and get posted soon that goes into further detail on the changes he's noticing at the end of AEOI. Some of the big ones include a second golden heart, seeing some of the life magic in the world around him, and a golden glow on his palms. He also slowly develops the ability to heal, though it's not always consistent. Magic takes practice, lots and lots of practice. In pt 2, the glow on his palms has gotten so bright and also spread around his head like a halo, and Lucy shows him how to conceal it so he's not impossible to look at, but because of Magic™ there's still a dusting of golden powdery stuff across his skin. His blood turns golden because Ben Barnes + golden blood is such pretty imagery, and like the others, it gets sucked down and absorbed into Narnia's Heart when he bleeds in battle. Also when I say he's got a second heart I mean he's got a second fucking heart. Ribcage shift and all. (His appearance doesn't actually change, it's more like a pocket dimension thing going on inside him, but he sure as hell can feel it happening). Having Narnia as a patron goddess just means you have to put up with a second puberty sometimes lol.

Anyways, there's a line in AEOI that I feel explains this stuff really well. "He cannot truly protect the land without becoming a part of it himself." Narnia changes her Kings and Queens because she wants them to be a part of her. Aslan doesn't really see these changes as necessary (in canon, a world without deity Narnia, they don't happen), and if the storyline we pick is the one that's the constant cycle of humanity and inhumanity, it's sort of a push and pull between them. Aslan wants the Pevensies, and by proxy anyone else who rules Narnia or experiences these changes, to keep their humanity, to stay as they were Created by him. Narnia, however, wants them to be as much a part of her as she is of them. It's very clear in both the books and the movies that Narnia (the world) is where these characters belong. In the end, they all come home to her (yes, Susan too because fuck Mr. Clive Staples Lewis). Caspian being anything less than fully inhuman is something she cannot handle. She is constantly having to recreate the Pevensies, reestablish her hold on them, only to have them return to England and become mostly human again. Caspian cannot be taken away from her, he is in this world by birth and she is going to do everything she can to shape him into the ruler he needs to be.

Once again, I would like to state that Aslan and Narnia are not opposing sides of good and evil. Gods cannot be defined by human standards, and to think either Narnia or Aslan completely in the right or wrong in this AU would be, well, an interesting standpoint, but really not the one I'm going for here. I'm not going to say it's a misinterpretation, I am very open to hearing people's thoughts on this AU, and everyone's going to see things differently. Just, please reread what I've written about them before you start making that argument.

Anyways, that wraps this post up because I have spent the better part of the past 6 hours writing this. I spent way more time on Eustace than I intended but it's just so fascinating to think about inhumanity from his perspective considering he's the only one in canon that actually was (briefly) inhuman. Again, if you got this far, congratulations! If you use any of my ideas mentioned here, please tag me, I am so starved for inhuman Narnia content lol.

#inhuman/dark fantasy narnia #caspian x #prince caspian #the pevensies #eustace scrubb #the chronicles of narnia #narnia headcanons #rambles of a hyperfixating kai

[echo-hiraeth]

Chapter 9: Misdemeanour

Part of the “Ilicit Limerence” series

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: A slow Sunday is ruined by a certain someone. The next morning reader returns to the embassy, receiving some rather good news.

Warnings: swearing, angst, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, nudity, mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of unrighteous law

Masterlist

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The envelope felt like lead in your hands. You’d opened the door, barely dressed as you rolled out of bed, wrapped in a robe as you freed yourself from your lover’s embrace. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you were handed the big envelope. A lawyer’s name. You just got fucking asked to drop charges. Not really able to move much you gently pushed against the door, listening to the dull noise as it shut on its own.

Opening this envelope would tell you exactly how bad it was. But you were too scared to find out, anxiously picking at your lip as you just stood there, seemingly paralyzed. You knew this was a bad idea, you knew you should’ve just let it be, you fucking knew there was no winning, ever. A heartbroken sob racked through your chest and you clutched a hand over your mouth, not wanting Javier to hear.

Quiet or not, it didn’t matter, he walked out of the bedroom, still nude, stretching his toned arms over his head as he let out a yawn. “Come back to bed, hermosa, it’s still early”, he rasped, voice hoarse with sleep.

You looked at him with tear-stained cheeks, palm practically glued to your mouth. He blinked, not sure of what he was seeing, but as he noticed to brown envelope dangling from your other hand he woke up instantly. You met each other halfway, weeping as he engulfed you in his warmth. His fingers weaved themselves through you hair, chin resting atop of your head as he rocked you back and forth.

It was shock more than anything that had triggered a response like this, a pure panic. He’d seen it before, the night you came back and he wasn’t prepared to have to ever see it again. “I’m here, baby, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere”, he whispered over and over, repeating it like a mantra so that maybe you might just pick up on it.

“I just want it to stop”, you cried out, balling your fists against his chest as you let go of the cursed papers.

The envelope fell to the floor with a soft rustling and in that moment you just wished you could disappear, fall through the wooden floorboards yourself. “I know baby, I know”, he soothed, pulling you in closer.

Your head started hurting from the extensive crying, corners of your eyes stinging as the skin felt raw due to all the rubbing and wiping away of tears. But when the tears stilled, the anger settled in. He could feel it in the way you tensed up, muscles seemingly rejecting his caring touches as he held onto you.

“Let’s sit down, okay? Have something to drink and then we’ll read over it, together”, he promised, kissing your temple.

You sat down at the kitchen counter, splaying your palms against the cold surface, trying to breathe through the sheer blood-boiling rage you felt coursing through your entire body. He picked the envelope off of the floor, throwing it down in front of you as he grabbed a set of glasses from the cupboard. “The case will take place in the states”, you muttered, not daring to look up.

“I know, we can rent an apartment”, he replied, pouring you some water.

“Javi.. this is my mess, you are not-“

He laid his hands over yours, clearing his throat. “I’m your partner now, whatever you’re going through, I’m right there with you.”

His words made you feel the slightest bit better, lip starting to tremble again as you looked up at him. “I’m so sorry.”

He dragged your chair closer to his, cupping your face in both his hands. “None of this is on you, preciosa. Whatever that says, it does not define you.”

“You’re so good to me”, you choked out, burying your face in his neck.

Javier struggled with that, his heartstrings tugging on his restraint and self-control. He was just as pissed off as you were, if not more. That scumbag had the guts to threaten a case himself, thinking he could fucking win despite the hard evidence against him. He’d wanted it to happen at a different time – any other time but now, you were finally back on your feet. The entire week at his apartment had been amazing, you’d been on top of the world, as if nothing ever happened. And you’d genuinely deserved that, both of you did.

This wasn’t at all how you’d envisioned your weekend together. The thought of having to go back to work after all of that tomorrow stressful enough on its own. You and Javier had spent a week in pure bliss, tangled up in each other’s limbs and depths, getting closer, both physically and emotionally. The two of you had a dynamic now, a routine together and the domesticity of it was all the stability you’d ever want and need.

“We’ll get a good lawyer, you don’t need to worry about that”, he said before pressing another short kiss to your lips.

You nodded, sliding your fingernail under the hem of the paper, ripping the glue apart. With another shaky breath you pulled the papers out, hands damp with sweat. You looked over at Javier, who gave you an encouraging nod. Your eyes skimmed over the paper, pausing when you read the words “misdemeanour” and “battery”.

“What the fuck”, you gasped, rereading the sentences over and over again.

Javier sat upright, trying to read along with you. “Misde- are they fucking blind? Insufficient evidence? Oh you have got to be kidding me. That is low, even for him”, he spat, kicking his chair back as he went to stand.

“Javi, please sit down”, you sighed, closing your eyes as you felt the room start to spin.

He kicked against the chair, the wood clattering onto the tiles due to the impact. “Man, fuck this!”, he screamed, giving it another punt.

You flinched, keeping your head low as he took some of his frustrations out. “Please stop”, you pleaded, fingers gripping the counter.

He looked at the way you sat and took a step back. “I-I’m going for a drive.”

Before you could so much as look at him he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You’d gone from a serious case to a negotiation regarding “first-degree battery”, with a thousand dollar fine as a suggestion. You knew how sexist the courts could be at times, often ruling in the favour of perpetrators solemnly because of their sex. It was disgusting, several supplied pictures of your bruised and mishandled body deemed as “insufficient evidence”. The added detail of “assault of a pregnant woman” overruled as well. There was a written out response and report, they’d handled it behind your back, putting an end to it before it even started. Insufficient evidence, no witnesses. The response even alluded to self-defence, explaining that in a crazed, hysteric episode you attacked him first, statement backed up by eye-witnesses.

Were you supposed to be happy? Happy that he didn’t charge you? Happy he’d give you a thousand bucks? A thousand bucks could not even begin to make up for the damages, let alone the loss of an entire family.

It was still a proposal though, so you could either accept or fight back. But if even now your sisters and mother were unwilling to side with you, you surely wouldn’t win them on your side under any other circumstances, it was a lost cause and you knew it. This is where it ended, this is where they stopped being family to you, for good. Javier and Steve would egg you on to take it to court, let it drag on, risk losing it all, but if you were completely honest with yourself you knew that all you wanted was for it all to stop. You just wanted to be left alone and forget, supress what had happened, supress years and years of what had been happening. Your father was too far gone, there was no redeeming himself, you’d known this since you were in your teens and yet there was always that small bit of hope that you held onto. But looking at these papers, his name signed neatly at the bottom, you felt it perish. You grabbed the nearest pen, hands trembling with sheer hatred and resent. Fuck him, fuck all of them, is this is what they wanted, they could have it their way. You signed your name on the same line, consenting to the settlement and leaving it at just that.

He’d exerted his control over you way too long and had always won, no matter what you did. The amount of holidays you’d spent on your own, amount of birthdays you celebrated with a bottle of gin or vodka, they’d always won. You were allowed a family of your own and you’d have exactly that, you’d win this time and they would never take it away from you again.

Let them have the case, you had other things here, important things; a real family.

 When Javier came back, somewhat cooled off, he found you in the bathroom, on your hands and knees scrubbing along the edges of the tub. You had the radio playing, some man announcing the weather forecast in Spanish. He leaned against the doorframe, the shadow of his towering figure making you look over. You both smiled at each other, though it wasn’t sincere.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper.. I just.. it ticks me off – a lot”, he confessed, crossing his arms in front of him.

You nodded, averting your gaze to focus on the porcelain once again. “I signed.”

“You did what?”, he asked in a monotone voice, standing up straight now.

“I signed”, you repeated, getting up off the ground and walking up to him. “I’m done with the games. He can have it his way if that means I’ll never have to see any of them again.”

He didn’t like that, but a part of him actually understood. “Are you sure this is what you want?”, he asked, no sly or ironic undertone, he was genuine.

“I want to be happy and a lengthy and expensive court case that I probably won’t even win just isn’t that”, you explained, pushing past him with the bucket of cleaning supplies.

He trailed after you, eyes glued to your form as you moved around the kitchen. “I know it won’t be easy, but you’ve got a good case, you could make a difference.”

“Listen, I made my decision and I’m not really in the mood to go back and forth about it. So you can either shut up about or go bitch to someone else”, you snarled, finger pointing towards the door.

His face faltered a bit at your words, taken aback by your brashness. “I just think it would be better for you to think about it some more.”

“Javier. Quit”, you sighed, turning your back towards him. “I don’t expect you to understand but I really don’t want this to drag on. Whether I win or lose against him in front of a judge, it’ll never actually fix anything. So instead of wasting my time away being miserable and anxious all the time, I’d rather spend it here, with you and Connie and Steve, Olivia.”

He came up behind you, spinning you around to face him. “You know I’ll support you no matter what. And if this is what you really want, then I’ll let it go, but I need you to look me in the eyes when you tell me.”

You put a hand on his cheek, looking into his brown eyes as you said exactly what you’d told him before: you were putting an end to it. “I want to start anew. I want a clean sheet with you, with this”, you whispered, bringing his hand to your swollen stomach.

He hadn’t ever touched you there since finding out you were pregnant and something about it felt surprisingly soothing, grounding, unreal. He could tell there was somewhat of a curve going on, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he kept his fingers there, lips colliding with yours.

“A new start”, he repeated, leaning back in.

 The next morning was pure chaos, the two of you struggling to get ready in time. Today was important, your first day back and your first day with the new ambassador, who knew nothing about you, your condition or your relation to Javier. You took your breakfast into the car, your heated time in the shower having you run late. You handed Javier a sandwich as you quickly buttoned up your blouse.

“That is really distracting”, Javier tutted, stopping at the red light, a hand comfortable resting on your thigh.

You threw him a glare, stealing his sandwich to sneak a bite. “Your fault! You wanted to have sex, now we’re running late.”

“From what I remember”, he started, stuffing the rest of the sandwich in his mouth “you were the one begging me not to stop.”

“Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I won’t dropkick you”, you jested, fully buttoned-up.

He turned his head, flashing you an irresistibly handsome smirk. “Oh honey, keep it up and I might just have to bend you over your own desk.”

“Javier! Keep it in your fucking pants, will you”, you scolded, chuckling slightly.

He parked the car, taking his hand of your thigh in the process. “I like driving you to work, hermosa”, he mumbled, jerking the handbrake.

“Hmm, why’s that?”, you asked, fixing your hair and make-up in the rear view mirror.

“Beeecaauuse I get to do”, he leaned over the console, resting a hand on the back of your neck, “this.”

His lips moved against yours in a slow, passionate pace, tongue slightly pressing up against you, asking for permission. You allowed him the entrance, grabbing a hold of his shirt as he deepened the kiss, stroking your tongue with his. He squeezed the inside of your thigh as he leaned back, biting his lip as you let out a whimper.

“You’re the worst”, you sighed, the heat between your legs incredibly prominent as he dragged his fingertips over your throat.

Another embrace, lips grazing your neck. “C’mon let’s head inside.”

 There was bouquet of flowers, courtesy of the office lads, displayed on your desk. You felt a blush creep up as you walked over, reaching out for the card. It read <We missed you! Glad to have you back!>. You grinned from ear to ear, bending down to smell the freshly cut blooms.

“Oh wow”, you gasped, closing your eyes as the sweet smell filled your lungs. “I-I don’t know what to say..”, you stuttered, looking down at the array of coloured petals.

“Thank you, for a start”, somebody spoke.

You whipped your head around. “Lopez! Of course!”, you giggled, returning his hug.

Javier watched from the side, rolling his eyes and scoffing as Steve just laughed away. He knew the office was up to something, but a fucking bundle of flowers? That crossed a line for him. Flowers were a boyfriend thing in his mind, for Valentine’s and birthdays or when there was something to make up.

But it was when he watched the other man’s hand slide down you lower back that he really got annoyed. “We have work to do, if you don’t mind.”

The man let go of you, giving a polite nod before walking off once again. “Hoo-hoo, I’d pay to see that face of yours again”, Steve pestered him.

You engulfed the blonde in a bone-crushing hug. “How’re the girls?”

“Loud and proud. How’s the little troublemaker?”, he asked, watching as Javier sat down at his desk, lighting a cigarette.

“Still kicking my ass. Getting real tired of the nausea and vertigo”, you sighed, absentmindedly trailing a finger over the button of your jeans.

Steve nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder to convey his sympathy. “Any triggers? Connie told me some women react very strongly to certain foods.”

“Oh, just try to keep your coffee and cigarettes out of my face for now. Thank you for asking though”, you said, bumping your shoulder with his.

 The morning was slow, despite Javier filling you in at night the past week, you were still expected to attend a briefing. It became rather clear that there was a lot of pressure going around, Pablo closing in on his deal, his surrender. On paper it was nice, the biggest threat locked away behind bars, but that didn’t take care of anything. It was a stunt more than anything, something to appease to the public and feign peace.

It was just like what you’d gone through that weekend, there was no winning in this. “Imprisoned” or not, Escobar’s empire would still stand, whether he directed his men behind bars or not. At this point the decision was out of the DEA’s hands, to everyone’s greatest annoyance and it wasn’t looking good. It was within the government’s best interest to agree to the ridiculous terms, trying to rebuild their image. So a different decision was made, if the DEA couldn’t get Pablo, they’d get all the other sicarios and intel they could get their hands on.

Throughout the day you found out that ambassador Noonan was still there. She called you into her office, wanting to have a chat with you. The conversation came down to your current position and limitations and she informed you that so long as you were comfortable doing so, you were perfectly fine to go into the field. You both agreed that your sudden disappearance from stake outs might come off as suspicious, and that any possible corrupted fellow agents might catch word of what was truly happening. You agreed to work alongside Peña and Murphy until you were visibly showing or too exhausted, sick, restricted – whatever to keep doing so. You wouldn’t be chasing anyone, just show up and tag along to keep up appearances.

Javier was not on board with this and had to resits the urge to storm into that office and knock some sense into his superior. It wasn’t until you’d sat him down after dinner and explained the entire philosophy behind it that he actually listened.

“You’re telling me the best way to keep you safe if to put you directly in harm’s way?”, he asks, reaching for a cigarette.

You grasp the packet before he can reach it, tossing it aside. “Yes. Not attending raids will raise questions, questions too dangerous to answer. We do this for a couple of months and go from there.”

“I don’t know hermosa”, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Specify attending raids.”

“Sit back, stay close to the armoured car and look pretty in a bulletproof vest”, you chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.

He let out an exaggerated sigh, bumping his forehead against yours. “You’re gonna be the death of me, baby.”

You captured his pouty lips in a kiss, smiling as he wrapped his arms around you. “I have laundry to do”, you breathed, closing your eyes as he held you against his chest.

“Did you really have to bring those fucking flowers into our apartment?”

You let out a laugh in the crook of his neck. “Last time I checked I’m the one paying rent, you freeloader.”

“Two places is gonna be costly in a couple of months and we practically already live together”, he explained, pushing some of your hair behind your left ear.

“You asking me to move in with you?”, you questioned, trying to keep yourself from grinning.

“Well, I’m more asking if I can move in with you”, he replied, leaning down to peck your nose.

You hummed in response, freeing yourself from his embrace to lean on the counter. “Won’t you miss your apartment? It’s quite a bit closer to the embassy.”

“Which is exactly why yours is better. And I won’t have to listen to Steve and Connie going at it every once a month”, he admitted, slowly shaking his head.

“Once a month? Ooh, that’s rough”, you joked.

He tilted his head in amusement, smirking as he looked back up at you. “Didn’t you have some laundry to get to?”

“Keep that up and you’ll get once a month too Peña”, you quipped, throwing the wet kitchen towel at his face. “Buuuut if you help me, I can give it to you tonight.”

“Oh baby, please. I’ll have you begging for me by the end of it.”

And beg you did. Legs wrapped around his waist, the vibrations of the washing machine sending waves of pleasure through you. You’d started by emptying the dryer while Javi filled the washing machine. And as soon as it turned on, he grabbed a hold of your waist and put your right on top of it. You were writing underneath him, moaning with every roll of his hips. His mouth was on your neck, rightfully marking what was his as he sped up his movements.

“J-Javi please”, you pleaded “more.”

He jerked you forward, having you balance on the edge, angling his thrusts even more upward. You surged forward as he hit deeper, reaching something inside that had you clinging onto him. His hands gripped onto your ass, keeping you in place as the machine rumbled beneath you.

“Gonna need you to cum, hermosa”, he ordered, out of breath as he dipped a hand between the front of your legs, rubbing sloppy circles on your clit.

You were a whimpering mess now, choking out his name as his hips started to stammer, desperately chasing his oncoming orgasm. He let out a series of low, husky, guttural groans as he bit down on your shoulder, coating your heat with his release. You followed soon after, the sharp pain in your shoulder sending you over the edge. Your toes curled behind his back, legs squeezing his sides as you let out a loud and melodical moan.

He stumbled forward a bit, caging you in as he regained his balance. “Shit – that was intense”, he exhaled, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Yeah.. that one’s gonna hurt tomorrow”, you panted, running your hands through his damp hair. “Hand me that towel, please?”

He leaned over, grabbing the towel off the drying rack, making some other stuff fall in the process. “No chasing, just showing up?”, he checked again.

“Just showing up, bulletproof vest on at all times”, you reassured him, throwing the dirty towel into the hamper.

He helped you off of the washer, giving your butt a smack as you stood in front of him again. “You ride with me, always. I need to be able to see you, understood?”

“I’m your girlfriend, not your liability”, you joked, playfully hitting him in the chest. “What’s that?”, you questioned, bending down to pick something up off the floor.

Javier hesitated, putting his hands over yours as he gave you a sheepish grin. “It’s just something I got at the market last time we went. I-it’s stupid really.”

You opened your hands, looking down to get a closer look. They’re little socks, striped-socks. “Javi.. when did you get this?”, you asked, voice rising in pitch as you started feeling a little emotional.

“You were talking to some vendor and I just – I thought they looked cute and-“

He was shut up as you smashed your lips into his. “I love them.”

Taglist: @pedritomando @peterhollandkait @ophelia-ingenue @radiowallet @phoenixhalliwell @diogodxlot @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @asta-lily @the-bottom-of-the-abyss​ 

#illicit limerence #javier peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #imagine #pedro pascal #javier pena

[em0avacado]

Pen Pals - Ezekiel Reyes

trigger warning : none other than brief mention of removing someone’s pelvis, wearing maybe.

word count : 2068

Dear Ezekiel,

Her first letter started simple, she wasn’t sure whether to address the inmate more formerly, or of this was fine, but with lack of better knowledge on this, she settled on that. It all started when curiosity got the best of her. She had a friend who would constantly talk about her very own pen pal, she’d talk about the stories theyd tell her, how they were interesting and that they had, in reality, not much better to do with their time in lockup. At first, the young woman was rather skeptical, but after reading some of her friends letters herself, the curiosity started eating her alive from the inside out. Maybe she’d give it a try, what’s the worst that could happen? So, after a few hours of extensive reasearch, she’d picked an inmate and began writing, although, after the first two words of the letter, she was stuck. It wasn’t long until she realized how much time had passed since she’d actually written a letter to someone who wasn’t her grandmother.

With a pen gripped tightly in her hand, the black ink began to spill onto the page as her mind finally came up with things to scribble onto the soft blue lines. The nails of her right hand tapping against the finished wood of her desk, it wasn’t long until she ripped the paper out of the coiled notebook and started over again.

Dear Ezekiel,

My name’s Ophelia, I’m about twenty six years old, and my favourite colour is orange, because it reminds me of orange creamsicles on a hot summers day. Seems childish, I’m aware, but alas, my curiosity only carried me so far. It’s been years since I’ve actually written a letter, let alone made a friend. You see, I’m a very reserved person but i supposed that the only way of really making friends with a pen pal is to start off by introducing myself into a bit more depth than small talk. The friends I do have, they call me Oph, no one really calls me by my first name.

God, she sounded so utterly stupid, she thought, but what else was there to write? Who even knew if this man would write back? No one, no one did. But, can’t be for sure unless she tries, right? right.

However, she went on, writing down anything she could possibly think of that could stark some sort of interest from the man behind bars. She went from how the green on the trees in the spring brought her a specific joy in her heart because when she was younger her father would point out that the green in forests meant that the wild life was happy, healthy, to explaining what the saw was initially invented for. Once her hand began to cramp, she called it a day. Folding the papers together neatly, she shoved them in an envelope and sent it off to the right address before her hesitation stopped her. Now; it was time to wait. And she hated waiting.

Without a real timeline in her head on when she’d hear back from Ezekiel, she waited days, then weeks, at some point, the thought seemed to slip her mind. Heading to work each day, only to head home, check her mail box, head inside, prepare herself for the night and get at least a few hours of sleep before doing it all again the next day. An impossibly boring routine that was disturbed when she found an envelope, with blue in scratched into the front. Reading the name ‘Ezekiel’ within the first few lines of the actual letter, thrilled her. Quickly, she tossed her bag and keys to the side, kicking the door shut behind her, she tore into the envelope and began to read.

Dearest Ophelia

You can tell me absolutely anything you wish to, just from your first letter i can tell that your mind is a place of wonder. If you think anything like you write, I’d love to pick your brain some day, those run on sentences really get a man thinking.

A wide grin spread across her lips, her eyes flit across the pages as she read ever word scribbled onto the lines in blue ink. He told her anything that reflected topics she covered, answering all the questions that she asked, even adding in commentary here and there. He matched the amount she wrote, rambling on just as much as she did.

P.s. were chainsaws really invented to cut open and take out the pelvis of a woman who took too long giving birth?

A cackle rolled passed her lips when she read that very last sentence, and she dove into explaining the history of it once more. Every letter she wrote, would end in a fact so buzzard it was hard to believe. The two went back and forth as fast as time would allow, matching the length of letters, each and every time. Quickly, that ugly blue ink from Ezekiels pen became her favourite colour, replacing the orange colours that she once preferred over all else.

But, all good things do eventually come to an end, for years, they’d go back and forth, writing letters and knowing everything about one another. Occasionally letters were sent with tear stains wrinkling papers from when she poured her heart onto the page, she’d sent a picture of herself once too, one she never got back. Dozens of paper cuts, empty pens and notepads empty, pages torn out and sent. Then, one day, it all just stopped, her last letter never got a response, she waited weeks, but weeks turned to months quickly and she assumed he’d gotten out, it wasn’t worth contacting her anymore now that he was set free into the world once again. It hurt, it shouldn’t have, he was just a pen pal, a friend who wasn’t permanent in the slightest, she knew that, she did, but that bond she thought they developed was broken. Perhaps she got attached, but, for lack of better wording, it sucked.

It was now the middle of December, and Ophelia had planned what she usually did during the holiday season. Nothing. She didn’t have family left, her friends had their own families to attend to, besides, she had just up and moved to a town she was dangerously unfamiliar with. Although, none of that really phased her. On her way home from work, she stopped by the store, a hardcore case of the munchies leading her down chips isle. Humming to herself softly, her eyes scanned the shelves, tossing a bag or two in her basket before strolling down the isle.

A small, white sheet of something, perhaps paper? Swayed to the ground slowly, landing rignt at her feet, with a quirked brow, she leant down and picked it up. The man who dropped it, standing not too far in front of her, didn’t seem to notice that he’s lost it. A man, with a buff figure, broad shoulders, he walked like he’d been constipated for a week now, his phone in hand, which his focused had zeroed in on. She trapped the small paper, which turned out to be a photograph. Ophelia didn’t want to look at it, to respect the mans privacy, but curiosity killed the cat, right?

The photo, she immediately recognized the bright red hair, the pearly white smile, the mess on the pale skin and the beaming green eyes. That was her, the photo? it was the one she sent to Ezekiel all those years ago, when they first started talking. But why did this man have it? With confusion, she rushed forward, tapping the man on his shoulder “excuse me -“ she started, but her words caught in her throat when he turned around, it was him. he looked like he did in the pictures on the sight, the one he sent her, just slightly older, his hair had a tight trim, he had a few more stress lines than the picture did.

The basket tucked under her arm just moments ago, hit the ground with a crash. Her eyes went wide, her skin paled. Ophelia looked like she’d just seen a ghost, Ez mimicking the shock on his own features. “you- i-“ she managed to get out, forcing her mouth shut.

A nervous chuckle came from Ez, paired with a weak “O- hey.” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

She raised her fist and punched him in the bicep “what the fuck?!” she asked, her shock replaced by anger as she waved the photo in front of him. “really?! I thought we were cool, friends? even? you said I was one of the best friends you’d ever made and I don’t even get as much as a ‘oh hey Ophelia I’m getting out talk to you never!’ ?! and you just carry my picture around like a creep?” she asked, pushing it against his chest and crossing her arms over her own. “well?”

“Listen, I’m sorry.” he said, looking for ways to explain himself, why he hadn’t kept in touch, any sort of excuse but there was nothing, truth was, he had wanted to stay in contact but everything with the club, and the deal, and pops got in the way, so it kept getting pushed back. “it was a dick move and I’m sorry.” he said, looking down at her.

“yeah no fucking shit.” she spoke, her arms still crossed over her chest, her glare burrowing holes into his head. She opened her mouth, ready to add more onto what was already said to him, but in that moment someone in a kutte that nearly matched his own, rounded the corner, ready to speak to Ez until her glare shifted from him to the slightly taller man, his green flannel buttoned up, chains clanging together.

“Hey boy sco-“ he stopped mid sentence, not taking another step, he narrowed his eyes at her, looking between her, and his brother, a smile came to his lips in realization “oh shit.” he laughed “you can deal with angry fire crotch on your own, I’ll wait outside.” he laughed, heading out and leaving the two alone again.

“Angel?” she asked, he looked exactly like Ez would explain in his letters, nodding his head, she furrowed her brows slightly and leaned down, picking her basket up again, hanging it in the crease of her elbow. “Look I get it, you got out, had better things to do, I shouldn’t have let my anger get the best of me but come on? We spoke for years, we bonded, or so I thought? Feels ridiculous now, but, hey, I hope that your life treats you better than it has, I’ll see you around.” she said, nodding her head at him, turning to head to the till when she felt his hand on her arm, spinning her around.

“I looked for you.” he started “not nearly hard enough but they never gave away your address, nothing, which was smart but I did look for you, where I could.” he confessed “not once did I forget about you, Ophelia, I couldn’t.” he dropped his arm when she stood, looking up at him.

“I know. Duh. Your memory is like- permanent.” she said, and he nearly rolled his eyes.

“okay smart ass that’s not what I meant.” he groaned. “you’re unforgettable, even if I could forget, I couldn’t.”

“you’re much smoother on paper” she added another little side note.

“Ophelia.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyways, that picture was the only that allowed me to feel a sense of home as of lately, and would be the only thing that did until i found you. That’s why I kept it.” he told her, her gaze softening. “Now that i have, found you, i won’t let you get away again.”

“sounds kidnap - y.” she muttered, interrupting him. He dropped his hands, slapping against his thighs with a soft sight, he shot her a glare.

“Ophelia I swear to god i’m trying to confess my feelings right now could you put a pause on that for a moment?” he asked her, raising a brow.

“no.” she said simply, scratching her nose. “don’t confess your undying love for me in the middle of a grocery store, please. That old lady has been listening and eyeing you this whole time.”

#angel reyes x reader #ez x reader #ez reyes #mayans fanfic #mayans mc #jd pardo

[tohruhondaismydaughter]

Ok so here are my PERSONAL thoughts for this episode of Fruits Basket (WARNING: manga spoilers ahead).

I gotta be honest the beginning of the Yuchi scene was weird for me because of how much of thier development was sadly cut from the anime but after the curse breaking scene (which was unessarily beautiful btw like the others just got tears/rope snapping but our rat prince got all the budget LMFAO, also the rat spirit was so adorable in this scene for some reason) they luckily still got me to cheer for them somehow (though I think her gift was explained better in the manga as a way to sooth Tohru's rescent injuries + was a nice way of showing how Machi & her brother as alike, at least in the way they approach gift giving lol).

The kyoru stuff was amazing of course (especially assertive Tohru) but I do greatly miss thier zoo date & the school's reaction to them being a couple however they might put that in the last episode (well we can hope can't we).

The Kyoko monologue was heart breaking though I still think her attempted suicide being covered would have added more depth to the saddder side of her & Tohru's relationship (without having to nessaryily explore too much of her disturbing relationship with Katsuya & while we're on the subject, I'm not happy about her going back to her middle school self in the afterlife for VARIOUS reasons that I won't bother getting into but at least we still haven't had to see he's face yet).

I wish Rin hadn't been in the room with Akito during the apolgey (I frankly don't like her even being present when Tohru tells Kyo she wants to see Akito after he's hug with Kazuma because while I PERSONALLY like the friendship between Tohru & Akito & am able to forgive her once she's clearly changed her ways & I get why/how the friendship came to be I still don't think Rin should be present when Tohru's being really invested in Akito especially not so rescently after the amount of truma she put Rin through & btw the 'I can't forgive her/your not bad for not forgiving her' scene better be in the last episode) I swear Rin was sitting just outside the open door with her back turned away (Haru was the closest to her like he was almost shielding her from Akito & their hands/arms were holding on to eachother in the hallway) in the manga so that she could still hear what was being said without having to actually see Akito but maybe I'm misrembering. Also I know Kisa was also badly hurt by Akito but Kisa has a mum to look out for her & wasn't almost murdered or rescently held captive. I also would have wanted Akito to not sit so close to the group (especially Rin & Kisa because I would have thought she'd understand how VERY triggering that could be for them & would want to avoid that).

I loved the detail that Kyo dosn't know he's way around the inner easte because as the cat he's never been invited before.

Akito looked beautiful in her Kinmono.

I don't know when Hiro was supposed to have he's own seprete talk with Akito (sadly the Kyo/Akito/Hana scene is obviously not going to happen) but I do kind of hope we get some closure with him in the next episode (speaking of which I hope the 'cry because you loved her' scene gets to be in the next episode).

I'm not an Akigure shipper (for NUMRIOUS reasons) but Shigure's speech about why he gave Akito a "parting" gift actually sounded a lot kinder & over all more sincere/healthy to me then it did in the manga....but unfortunately he once again brought up the fact that he'd been waiting for her for such a long time, & they descided to again show little kid Akito & teenage Shigure & it's just like yeah I get it he "fell in love" with her before she even hit puberty (I promise I'm not trying to hate on Akigure fans as I get that it's fiction & your allowed to like stuff that's not wholesome/fluffy I just don't get why the mangka would go out of her way to make the origin of thier feelings for eachother so problimatic if she just wanted them to end up happy & stable in the end like all the other couples).

I would have liked Akito staying on as family head 'to change the clan's toxic way of doing things' to be more explained because, in the dub at least, she kinda just says 'there's still things to do so I'll continue being the family head' & while a change of heart is obviously implied I personally think it's important for the former zodiac to actually hear her say something like that out loud.

Then there's the weird monologue Akito has about Shigure which I guess is supposed to convey that she loves him now more then she did the old zodiac bond but it just sounded obsessive to me (litrually like how Ren spoke about Akira) but I wouldn't necessarily have such a problem with that if it was at least aknowleged anywhere in story that Akito realises it's unhealthy & something she'll need to work on changing if she ever wants to have any chanse at a healthy relationship with him but unfortunately we just get: 'wow I'm utterly dependent on this man (who's been playing mind games with me for half my life) to give me any kind of purpose/value as a person now that I'm no longer a god so we're gonna be a couple now' & I'm just left like.....or you could break up permanently like you did with Kureno & focus on dealing with your truma & becoming a good friend for other outcasts like Tohru did, instead.

#fruits basket #season 3 #episode 12 #fruits basket spoilers #manga spoilers #fruits basket manga spoilers #anti akigure #anti shigure #anti shigure sohma #season 3 spoilers #fruits basket season 3 spoilers

[oftenderweapons]

Mold Me New (6) — Taehyung

A Small Town Swoons Story

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (nicknamed Frog)

Wordcount: 3.7k

Genre: ceramic artist!Taehyung, divorced!reader, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, sliht angst, Slice of Life

Rating: suggested 18+ for future smut

Hello to my readers!!! Welcome to the Small Town Swoons Universe!🥰✨

In this episode: Frog and Taehyung are gettin closer and closer. As they both face their most vulnerable moments since they met, finding comfort in each other's arms.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: kissing, mild swearing, allusions to smut. Taehyung suffers from tendinitis in his hands after he worked too much. Frog talks about the end of her marriage and her approach to attraction, mentioning that she could be demisexual. About this specific point, the discussion is very short and doesn't focus on details, but THAT doesn't absolutely mean that demisexuality isn't a large and delicate topic that should be disucssed in depth, it only means that the character is growing in that direction and that she'll eventually educate herself more about that topic.

Once more I'm thanking Rid (aka @taegularities). We're in this soft sh!t together 🤍

In case you like my writing, here is my directory for idol!AUs, scenarios and imagines. And in case you need it, here’s the Spotify music companion.

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

Enjoy 💜✨

Entering the studio was mind blowing. It looked like a garden of statues.

Sitting on the floor was Taehyung, using his elbows and forearms to wedge a large body of clay.

“Tae?”

He looked at you standing in the doorway, smiling at you almost apologetically while you were entirely shocked.

“Why are you wedging with your elbows?”

“Tendinitis.” He still smiled like his fingers and palm didn’t feel shredded by thorns.

“For god’s sake, Tae!” You made your way to him, feeling like a cat trying to slalom through an endless field of obstacles. “Baby,” you murmured, crouching down next to him, tutting and fussing once you spotted how messed up he was.

He had clay in his hair, on his face, all over his apron. “Babe.”

“I wanted to create.”

You held his face in your hands, kissing his forehead over and over. “How long have you been here?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s five o’clock. Like all of our lessons,” you reminded him, wide eyed, shaking your head.

“I’ve been here since four.”

You closed your eyes and exhaled. “Tell me you mean four in the afternoon.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. Of yesterday.”

Your face contorted in disappointment. “Get out of here!” You helped him up, clicking your tongue once you noticed he was barely able to hold himself up on his knees.

“I just stayed in the same position for too long,” he whined at your stern look.

“This cannot do, Taehyung,” you scolded him, before blocking his face, which was aiming at the crook of your neck. “No cuddles. We need to clean you up first.”

He pouted as you got rid of his apron quickly. “How aren’t you tired? Look at the floor! How can you even move in here, Taehyung!”

“Don’t call me by my full name, it scares me,” he objected, puppy eyed. “And your lesson?”

“We’re postponing that. Have you eaten at least?” You stared at the floor as you led him to the large sink.

He followed you as your hands held his hips. He liked how you touched him, and he loved how comfortable you looked doing so. Once he stood in front of the sink, you grabbed some soap and foamed it up, holding his hands and running them under the water, covering them in bubbles and getting a small groan out of him. “This will teach you a lesson,” you mumbled, intertwining your fingers with his and rubbing them together. “Does it hurt?”

He shook his head before leaning his head against your shoulder while you stood behind him. “It feels better with you.”

You couldn’t hold yourself back from placing a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Let’s clean up your pretty face.”

Still, he tried to deepen the kiss, chasing you, hoping you’d let it slide. “You think I’m pretty?”

“You’re not just pretty. You’re scandalously good looking. You’re disgustingly perfect.”

He smiled and tried to turn. He wanted to plant his face against your chest and feel your digits massaging his scalp. He also wanted to feel you naked against his skin, but that was far from any sexual motive: he simply wanted warmth, closeness, affection. He wanted softness and intimacy. “Can we cuddle now?”

“You still have half a kilo of clay on your arms,” you replied as you took it off with gentle strokes of your palms, adding more soap to make sure no dirt was left.

“Can we cuddle after that?”

You nodded, nuzzling your nose into his hair. “We can do anything you want.”

He lowered his face to the faucet and cleaned it up, washing away the smear of dried up clay on his cheek.

“You should shower, darling,” you said, grabbing a paper towel and dabbing it against his wet face. “Or we could wash your hair.”

“Are you staying over?” He looked so hopeful, so entirely enamoured. You could barely resist him.

“I stayed over last week. I’d feel a bit out of place,” you replied shyly, trying not to feel conflicted. On one side, you felt like you were taking advantage of him, on the other you longed to caress his hair and kiss his nape until he fell asleep at your side. You also wanted to wake up with his hair tickling your chest as he gave you tiny kisses all over your neck and throat, exploiting the warmth and softness of that special spot for a gentle wake up call.

At the beginning you had worried about staying over on that first night, after dinner and… and the couch thingie. You slightly feared the thought that sharing a bed somehow meant pressuring each other into a type of intimacy neither of you was ready for. And then, a week after that fatidic rendezvous, he had asked for you to stay the night and sleep — just sleep — together. He had been extremely clear about his intentions, declaring them after dinner as you were lounging on the sofa once more. You had watched a film, made out, calmed down, washed up and headed to bed, where he had clung to you until his breathing turned into a delicate huffing sound.

You had barely resisted tears once you noticed he tended to pucker his lips in his sleep, his cheeks becoming fluffier and rounder. He had an adorable baby face.

“What if I wanted you to stay, though?” Taehyung murmured, giving you a dubious look. As he noticed you hesitating, he added: “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to stay. It would be on the same terms as last time. I’m not pressuring you or anything I—”

Finally you gave up. Maybe his presence would help you. “Okay.”

He grinned, “I should shower then.”

“You want me to cook something as you wash up?”

His eyes got wide and glittery before he kissed your cheek. “Yes, please.”

“What should I make?”

“I like anything in the fridge. Do as you please,” he replied before you moved your head in confirmation.

Once in the house, you headed for the kitchen while he immediately hit the shower. He wanted to be away from you as little as possible. Most activities were painful, like grabbing bottles and massaging his scalp and basically anything that required him to grip and strain his hand muscles and tendons. At a certain point he entirely gave up on his hair, washing his body and getting out of the shower, drying up and wearing a pair of boxers and loose pyjama pants.

“Frog?” he called from the door.

“I made bruschetta! Bread, sliced cherry tomatoes, it’s in the oven,” you answered.

“Can you come here?”

You quickly lowered the oven temperature and reached him.

You inhaled brusquely once you noticed his lean, smooth torso naked, little droplets of water still glistening here and there. “Could you wash my hair? I can’t really use my fingers much.”

You nodded silently, inhaling as you took in his chest. He looked so beautiful, his chest lithe and well-built, his tummy holding a millimetric curve, flat but not muscled. You liked it a lot.

“Shall we?”

Silently you followed him, watching as he bent down over the sink and opened the tap to further wet his hair. You noticed the bottle of shampoo and squeezed a small amount on your palm, watering it down and beginning to energetically scrub his scalp. “This okay?”

Taehyung hummed in reply, turning his head to the side a little to offer you a better angle. “Very okay. Actually, fine. Ideal.”

You smiled.

It took you a bit more time than you thought, mostly because you were a bit distracted. “Are you sleepy, sweetheart?” you asked once you managed to finish, helping him stand up straight and drying his hair haphazardly with a towel.

“I’m so caffeinated I can barely think straight,” he murmured, purring once he noticed the way you were still looking at him. “Frog. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

He cupped the back of your head before he leaned to your face, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and forcing you to unseal yours, his tongue sliding in sinuously, his other arm pinning you to him. “Like you really want me to do this.”

Once your back hit the wall, his warm body contrasting with the cold tiles against your spine, you realised you needed to slow down. “Tae. Dinner,” you reminded him.

“Sure,” he unglued you from the tiles. “Do you even want me to put a shirt on?”

You shook your head and smirked. “You sure are a smooth mess.” His eyelashes looked magical from this up close. After almost three months of knowing him, you still wondered how he could be so absolutely perfect, and so real.

“Is that a yes or a no?” He cocked an eyebrow, adding a mischievous grin on his face.

“It’s definitely a yes, you tease!”

After dinner you decided to go for your usual shenanigans and headed for the living room, finding yourself a little dumbstruck when you noticed a large sculpture on the coffee table, which had been moved out of the way and to a dry and cool place. The structure was as large as your upper half and, as you switched on the lights you recognised exactly what it was. The torso was still drying, as the colour showed, and for a second you asked yourself how it would ever dry. It would of course hold water in its core, causing the structure to fail and break. And then, it would never fit in his kiln.

“You like it?”

You turned towards Taehyung. “What material is it?”

“Modelling dough. It’s made for large structures. It dries in a couple hours.There are about ten layers latched on a metallic structure. It’s modelled after you.”

Your eyes widened. “Is that why your hands have been acting up?”

He looked away in a manner that told you that yes, that was the very reason.

“Do you have a balm or something?” you asked, trying to fix the mess he made.

He left the room and came back with a glass jar. “Arnica gel smells very bad but works fine.”

You took your place on the sofa, patting the spot at your side to invite him there. He joined you in a nanosecond, placing the jar on your lap. Methodically, entirely caught in your thoughts, you opened the lid, got some lotion on his palm and began rubbing the pressure points on his palm before turning to the back of it and tracing the tendons energetically.

His relieved groan echoed into the room before he let his head fall on the back of the sofa.

The massage went on for a bit, the motions so mechanical that your mind started to wander until you eventually said your thoughts out loud.

Having him to assist had calmed you down enough that you felt ready to reflect over your worries.

“Today is my wedding anniversary. Or it was.” You kept staring at your digits digging into his flesh. “I don’t really know how I should talk about it.”

Taehyung, though looking like a lazy feline, was actually paying close attention to your words. “How was it, being married?”

You shook your head. “At the beginning there was a lot of emotion and companionship. And then life carried us away from each other. Like two leaves scattered in different directions by the wind.” Your explanation was something that had become a truth to you: at the beginning you had tortured yourself with understanding why and how it had happened. And then you had accepted the blatant way of things: separation.

“Are you scared of it happening again? That companionship to separation process?”

You shrugged. “Not really. If people drift apart, then maybe it’s because they were meant to be together for a while before they could venture towards different destinations.”

Taehyung moved closer to your neck, to get impossibly nearer. If he could, he would have crawled underneath your skin, to inhabit you like a squirrel does a tree. He wanted to build his nest in your heart and sing all his favourite songs to you, and from you he would never, ever part.

He knew he was letting himself romanticise the affection and comfort he felt for you, however, he couldn’t find anything that made him disappointed with you, or that annoyed him. There were small things here and there that made him question your approach to life, but your grounded self was the kind of roots he needed to drift in the wind and let everything surprise and amaze him.

You were his anchor and he was so infinitely glad to have met you.

“How do you feel about the whole marriage thing? Do you still believe in it?” His voice was incredibly velvety, like a mother’s caress, a lover’s glance.

You pondered your emotions and sensations. “I believe I do. I mean, it’s not like I think I failed something or love is a lie and all of that. I’m just trying to understand the… the ground rules—” You took a pause, trying to explain yourself. “Like, the foreword, you know?”

He listened and let you talk.

“What makes a couple fit for marriage? And then, what is marriage? I need it to be more than just a bunch of paperwork and legal duties. But maybe it’s just that.”

Taehyung rubbed his naked foot against yours. His feet were freezing. Plus it felt funny to test the smoothness of your calf with the sole. He wished the two of you could cuddle under the sheets, talk until the larks would start singing and thin rays of premature sunshine would start lighting up the dawn and stream into the room, colouring your face with a greyish halo before it turned pink, and then orange and then deep red for the briefest minute until bright yellow settled in.

He wanted to study the colours of you bathed in any type of light, any shade and palette that would come with the passing hours.

“I think I want more than paperwork and formalities too. It's a promise after all. You're officially telling your beloved that you will be by their side forever.”

“As someone who betrayed that promise, I don't think I can see it from that point of view anymore.” You exhaled before he placed an arm around you, almost sitting on your lap as he offered you his untreated hand.

He frowned. “It’s not like you betrayed it. You honoured it. It might say ‘till death do us part’ and all of that, but the biggest promise is to be at each other’s side, to find happiness and support and comfort in each other. You realised you couldn’t hold on to each other anymore and you let go.” He kissed your cheek. “Your right to happiness is way greater than a promise neither of you wanted to keep anymore.”

You found refuge in his hair, sniffing it gently before letting your eyelids lower. “I’m afraid I’ll break future promises, too. Sometimes I ask myself how I could keep one.” You felt incredibly calm as he started delivering gentle pecks from your temple to your ear to your jaw, the sound of his lips disclosing in quiet pops slipping into silence as he lost the excuse of kisses and started simply skimming your skin with the smooth petals of his mouth.

“You will not be alone keeping it.” He drew a line with his nose, from your cupid’s bow to the middle of your forehead, where he placed one final kiss. “It’s a shared responsibility. You won’t need to go all the way. The right one will meet you halfway, and they will be willing to go a bit farther on the days you can’t reach, just like you’ll be willing to take a few more steps on the days they’re not feeling good. It’s a compromise, and the border moves and melts.” He hummed as you kneaded the base of his thumb between your own thumb and index. “At least that’s the way I like to imagine it.”

You would meet him halfway. And you would reach for him, on days like this, when you need him and he needs you. And you would walk a bit more when he’s tired and worried and afraid, just like you knew he would come for you.

“I think it really works for friends too,” Taehyung mused. He looked at you. He wanted to meet you halfway, and renovate that promise day after day after day. One day at the time, as long as you loved him. And then he would let you go, not without trying to fix the distance between the two of you. “Sometimes the difference between lovers and friends confuses me.”

You looked at him and blinked. “Well, I would never do anything sexual with a friend. I would with a lover, though.”

He nodded and hummed as he reflected. “So I should call you my lover?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Sure, if you’d like to.”

“I’d love to.”

You smiled, a tiny chuckle parting from your lips.

“Once you said you don’t feel attracted to just anyone. What is it that makes you feel attracted to me?” Taehyung asked, genuinely curious.

You gave a small laugh. “You know all about me meeting my husband when I was a kid, growing up together, being with him, only him until we divorced and then some.”

He nodded.

“I think that made me used to being extremely close to my partner before being capable of perceiving any type of attraction. And even when I was with him, I didn’t ever think about anyone else. All people were just—” you thought about the right word. “They were only human beings to me. I couldn’t see them as somebody I could be attracted to, especially since I never got to know anyone as much as I know Terry and him. I think you’re the first one I want to explore.” You let go of his hand.

“Thank you,” he murmured before letting his back fall against the pillows, laying down and dragging you with him so you were resting on your side, your legs tangled up with his before you found your spot flushed against his side, his chest pillowing your head and your leg thrown over his hip. He wanted to comb your hair but he didn’t want to mess it up with the balm, so he decided he could simply draw circles against your arm. “What do you mean with ‘exploring’?”

You yawned as you felt relaxation wash over you. “I mean I want to take my time to get to know you. I’ve read somewhere that people who only feel attraction for those they have an emotional bond with are called demisexual. And somehow I feel I could identify myself with that, but I think I still have too many open questions to feel like I fully belong to that category.”

Taehyung felt blessed he could listen to your thoughts out loud. They felt so precious to him, like they could give him a way to understand you better. And the more he understood you, the deeper he fell for you. “You’re still so young, you have all the time in the world. Maybe you could talk to a therapist, or find some support through online forums. You know you have my full support.”

You softened and furtherly cosied up in his arms. “Thank you so much, Tae.”

“It’s the least I can do.” You felt his voice sweeten with joy and gratitude. “We take care of each other.”

He had become your solace, your reprieve, your second chance at happiness. Hopefully, your definitive one too.

You calmed down, trying not to rush things through, reminding yourself this had been the strongest, most unreasonable form of enamourment you could have ever thought of; nevertheless, you couldn’t deny the sudden lightness and warmth and fondness that invaded you whenever he peeked into your thoughts or appeared in your sight.

“However, yes, I feel attracted to you because I’m emotionally attached to you. I don’t know what this will become, or if it will evolve into deeper feelings, but it feels good to be your friend. And to be your lover too,” you continued delicately, trying to play it cool. “I just don’t know how long this sense of attraction will last — you know, because of this being an actual first time and me being afraid of making promises and not keeping them. For now I only know I want to know you deeper. And I want to be your lover.”

Fear crawled into his veins but he let the present reassurance comfort him. “It’s okay. It’s not like I’m experienced. We’ll just let ourselves feel whatever comes our way. The only promise I need you to give me is that you’ll allow yourself to feel everything life will give you, without being afraid.”

You stretched to press a kiss to his lips. “Okay. Can I count on you to meet me halfway?”

He nodded. “As a friend, as a lover, as anything you allow me to be.”

You kissed him again, your body relaxing even more. You couldn’t hold back another yawn.

“Let’s get you to bed. I don’t want you to fall asleep on the couch.” He traced your profile with the tip of his pinky. “Come on.”

As you laid in bed, your legs tangled together, you caressed his hair, watching his eyelashes fan against his cheekbones.

“I hate that my hands hurt. I wish I could touch you more.” He turned to fit his back against your front, your hand meeting his chest and feeling his calm heartbeat.

“Did you really shape that sculpture after me?”

You noticed him nodding. “I could still feel you under my fingers. It was torture to lay in this bed without you.”

You kissed his nape. “Good thing I’m here now.”

“You make it so much better, darling.” His voice was reaching that depth that fit night-time pillow talk so perfectly.

You thought about how your life had changed since he came into it. “You make it better too, Tae.”

Taglist is open

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

#taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung x y/n #thebtswritersclub #thetruthuntoldnet

[plutonct]

remember remember- n.jm

summary; bestfriend au- celebrating bonfire night on the cold november evening leads to warming up with your ~best friend~ in his car

warnings; car sex, unprotected sex, grossed out 00 line

an; REMEMBER REMEMBER THE 5TH OF NOVEMBER GUNPOWDER TREASON AND PLOT i think this is a british thing so like welcome to my culture where we make replicas of a man and set him on fire 😌 wow the uk is savage. for context, in the uk the 5th of november is celebrated as bonfire night or guy fawkes night and basically celebrates the death of guy fawkes who was famously hung, drawn and quartered after plotting to kill the king with gunpowder.

the vibrant colours of the fireworks lit up the sky as you cuddled in closer to your best friend’s chest. in the cold evening hours of november, your body shivered slightly as the chills of the wind overpowered the small amount of heat radiating from the fire in front of you. the stuffed and clothed fabric that had been set on fire was doing little to warm you up due to the ‘safe distance’ rules.

"y/n? are you okay? you look freezing." jeno, one of jaemin’s friends spoke up distracting you from how the blonde next to you was tracing circles onto the smooth skin of your arm.

"it’s a bit cold, nothing i can’t handle though." you laughed a little as you spoke, trying not to let the chatter in your teeth give you away. jaemin obviously didn’t believe you, turning to look into your eyes.

his face was illuminated by the warm radiance of the fire, his skin quite literally glowing. the crackling of the fireworks was still going on, kids laughing and gasping to their parents at the pretty explosions of colour. unlike the others there, clearly you hadn’t got the memo of dressing appropriately after shoving one of jaemins hoodies on (with no top underneath) and a pair of thin leggings.

"guys i’m feeling quite chilly, i’ll take y/n back to the car." jaemin spoke up to the others in your little circle, earning small murmurs of acknowledgement before they returned back to their conversations about spooky stories and whether or not ghosts were real. though his eyes left yours for a second, they were immediately back gazing into your own as if you were the only thing that mattered to him. and you were.

jaemin wasn’t so sure how long he had been harbouring feelings for you, having to constantly push himself back into line as ‘the boy best friend’. what he did know however, was that you looked ethereal in that moment. the same glow from the fire reflecting onto your own skin, your eyes glossy from what he assumed was also the low temperature.

he patted your side as a signal he was standing up and you immediately shrunk your arms into the large hoodie draped over your frame, letting the ends of the sleeves hand over your fingertips to your hands up. jaemin on the other hand had different ideas, lacing his fingers with yours and shoving the cluster of appendage into his coat pocket.

the walk to his car was in comfortable silence, basking in the somehow peaceful moment despite the loud cheers, chatter and bangs in the background.

"you know you don’t have to lie, right? if you’re cold you can just tell me." jaemin spoke up, nudging his elbow into your side as the two of you approached his black car.

"i know. i just didn’t want to take you away from the others just because i was cold." you stopped for a moment and turned to look up at him, only to find he had already been looking at you. this happened a lot, he would always seem to stare at you with such fondness and adoration, it stirred up butterflies in your tummy. your best friend let out a breathless chuckle, unclasping his hand from yours and bringing it up to rest against your cheek.

for a moment your breath hitched, attention now drawn to the warm hand rubbing soothing strokes onto the plush skin of your cheek.

"y/n i would drop everything for you. i hope you know that." jaemin’s eyes flitted from your kissable lips back to your eyes, this not going unnoticed by you. heat pooled in your stomach at his gestured and words. you raised your own hand and placed it on his cheek, just like he had.

"then i hope you know i would do the same for you."

that was all the confirmation jaemin needed, with the clear affirmation that his feelings were reciprocated, he brought his face closer to yours. you could feel his minty breath fanning over your lips before taking the initiative and closing the distance yourself.

your lips molded together perfectly, his chapped ones moving immediately against your own desperately. he had waited so, so long for this moment. he had dreamt about it in his sleep, fantasized about it in his classes— but you weren’t any different.

as the kiss started getting heated, jaemin reached for his carkeys in his pocket with the hand that once rested on your waist, hurriedly pressing the button to unlock the vehicle. the moment he did so, you reached to open the cardoor, clambering into the back seats.

"you have no idea how— long i waited— for this." jaemin spoke in between kisses, climbing in after you and slamming the door shut, hovering over you whilst using his forearms to hold him up. the space in the car was limited, but he did his best to work with what he got.

"same," you breathed out before jaemin hungrily reattached his lips to yours, "same."

the male shrugged off his thick coat, letting it drop onto the backseat floors in a heap before pulling off his shirt to join it, leaving him in his black adidas trackies that he always seemed to wear. his bare toned torso was now on full display under the dim lighting from the car, broad shoulders and defined muscles enticing you even further to rake your fingers along his body. and you did so, his muscles going rigid for a moment as they tensed up before relaxing again, jaemin just letting you feel him up.

"as much as you seem to like my body, princess, we have more important things to be getting to." the smug smirk on jaemin’s face almost made you whimper but you clamped your lips tight, just looking up at him. he cursed lightly at the desperate shine in your eyes, glossed over making them sparkle.

seeing as jaemin was preoccupied with staring at your face, you took it upon yourself to pull down your leggings and shimmy your legs out of them, revealing your bare legs and underwear-less heat. you hated wearing pants with your leggings seeing as they always gave you a visible panty line.

jaemins eyes widened when he looked down, the erection enclosed in his trackies growing, trousers tightening.

"holy shit princess, were you expecting this?"

you weren’t, but that made it all the better. this time you let out the whimper, clamping your legs shut for some sort of desperate friction.

"p-please jaem-ahh" before you could even finish your words, he had tugged his own trackies down just enough for him to release his throbbing cock. you moaned at the sight whereas the cold air hit the hot skin of his member, coaxing a hiss from his mouth.

"shit— i’m on the pill just please!" you grabbed at his biceps, pleading with him as your pressed your thighs together even harder. with this newly attained knowledge, jaemin grabbed himself at the base of his cock, beginning to line himself up with your dripping core. he didn’t even have to touch you to know, your folds glistened with arousal.

he ran his head against your slick slit, arm holding him up nearly faltering at the first inch of pleasure. your arms immediately went to wrap around his torso, legs hooking around his hips to pull him even closer. jaemin pushed the rest of himself in slowly, releasing low groans that mixed with your higher pitches whimpers.

"h-how are you so—fuckkkk— tight?" he gritted his teeth and removed his hand from his shaft, moving it to help himself keep steady. at his words you subconsciously clenched around him, causing him to moan louder.

he started his thrusts slow and deep, taking his time to explore you and savour the moment. but this didn’t last long, your want and need overpowering your other senses.

"j-jaemin, ahhh-go faster!" you demanded, starting to buck your hips against his. a devilish grin appeared on his face, moving one of his hands back down to your hip to hold it down.

"as you wish, princess."

his hips snapped rapidly into yours, the change in pace making the growing feeling in your lower stomach grow faster, your moans becoming more frequent and louder. the small space in the car was slightly uncomfortable, the windows were even fogged up but in this moment neither of you cared. his pace was relentless, never letting down as he slammed into you over and over, reaching depths no one else before him had managed to reach.

you started seeing stars, body barely sliding along the seats of the car at the sheer force of jaemin’s thrusts. your eyes starting rolling into the back of your head, fluttering shut as your fingertips dug into jaemin’s back, trailing down and leaving fresh red scratches in their wake.

"jaem, i’m gonna c-um," you managed to get out, the boy smiling at your pliable state. he was also very, very close, beads of sweat rolling down his face at the now hot temperature inside the car and as a result of the effort he was putting into fucking you.

after one sharp thrust, the angle perfect, your orgasm washed over you. your legs twitched slightly and your back arched, vision momentarily clouded. your wet walls clenched around jaemin’s cock, triggering his own release just after yours.

"fuck, y/n." he groaned quietly, his cum coating your pussy walls in short bursts as he relaxed on top of you, panting.

the two of you stayed there in the comfortable almost silence, chests raising and falling heavily as you both regained composure.

"so... what does this mean for us?" you asked quietly, jaemins head resting on your hoodie clad chest. he turned up to look at you in disbelief, chin resting on your ribs.

"you’re my girlfriend. i think. i mean you dont have to be but-" you cut off his rambling by grabbing his jaw and pulling him up for a sweet kiss.

"i’m your girlfriend."

bonus:

the two of you sat and waited in the front seats, enjoying eachothers presence in the newly found relationship. the car doors opened and jeno, renjun and donghyuck slid in, sitting in the back seats. you froze up momentarily, looking at them through the rear view mirror.

renjun, as the smallest, was sat in the middle. his face contorted into one of disgust, eyebrows furrowing as he immediately unclasped his seatbelt, leaping over to sit on jeno’s lap instead. he would rather that then stay sat on whatever the fuck he was just sitting on- and god he hoped it wasn’t what he thought.

"what’s wrong?" jaemin turned to renjun with a playful glint in his eyes, knowing why he had that reaction.

"why the fuck is your middle seat wet?"

jeno and donghyuck then looked at the wet patch on the seat before cringing and gagging.

"gross!"

"renjun give me my $10 please."

#na jaemin smut #na jaemin #jaemin #bonfire night #guy fawkes #nct #nct dream #jaemin smut #nct dream smut