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#translates to 'they fall out and go their own separate ways'
idkfitememate · 1 month
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Still tired but just wanted to remind you that the Obey Me Brothers (- Satan + Lilith) were probably the “Seven Heavenly Virtues” before they fell/died and that was probably so hard for them like-
Lucifer going from Humility to Pride
Mammon going from Charity to Greed
Leviathan going from Kindness to Envy
Asmodeus going from Chastity to Lust
Beelzebub going from Temperance to Gluttony
And Belphegor going from Diligence to Sloth
Imagine as Lucifer going through it because now you can’t talk with your brothers, now you hold them to an expectation you would’ve never before - and yourself to an even higher one - and watching them loose themselves to their sins.
Watching Mammon lose himself to monetary values to the point where he’d be willing to sell his own brothers out if it came to it, and knowing that at some point he would’ve sold his everything because he believed it was right. Shit thing is that he still loves his brothers, and under the greed is guilt for hurting them like this.
Watching Levi, once a kind and loving man who would never leave anyone out become a self deprecating and destructive mess who shuts the world out. Who spends his time obsessing over what others have that he can’t and fighting tooth and nail to fix that, even if it hurts him. He, like Lucifer, has to be the best at his chosen craft or else it’s all for naught, but unlike Lucifer he’s very vocal about his losses and how much he hates others who have better than him.
Asmo, who at one point was basically repulsed at the idea of carnal love and wanted to wait, to hold out until he found the one he was searching for. Believe if that saving himself for his future partner was the ultimate act of love. And now watching him fall to depravity, unable to feel love unless it’s carnal in some sense. Everything must be passionate, with little room for true love. Feelings pushed aside for the heat of the moment, giving his body away to feel something. Finding no worth in himself unless it’s his body, and that translating over to how he treats his brothers. They have to suck up his shockingly flirty remarks to them because he can’t help it, that’s how he’s forced to show love now; fast, rushed, and carnal.
Watching Beel, a man who took everything in moderation, never allowing himself more than what he needed in food and drink in favor of helping others, loose himself to the mind numbing pleasure of sitting there and eating and drinking and eating and drinking and eating and drinking with no end in sight. As he can’t help himself but do anything for a meal, much like Mammon. Willing to do damn near anything to fill the hole in his stomach. No matter the cost.
And Belphy. A man once so awake and alert and ready for anything that even Lucifer would have to tell him to take a break. Always raring and ready to go and help any and everyone in need sleep his days away. Too lazy to do basic tasks at some points like eat. Lazing about too tired to do anything, including care for those around him. Too tired to do anything.
And the haunting truth that you, as Lucifer, created Wrath. Satan, your youngest brother in age and fourth in power. Knowing on the daily that he puts on a mask, a front so that his rage doesn’t consume him in an all burning inferno. Knowing that any little thing could set him off, and that’d be it. He shares next to nothing with you and your brothers because, while unspoken, it’s known that he’ll never be as close as the six of you. He didn’t experience the war, he didn’t experience the fall, he didn’t experience her death. Unlike your brothers who have all changed in some distressing way he’s always been rage. Always been Wrath. A true sin through and through. Never will you experience the same things and that keeps you separated.
And about her, to know deep in your heart that she, the Virtue of Patients, would’ve become the Sin of Wrath keeps you up at night, her face of smiles turning to a wrathful frown scares you. Nightmares flash behind your eyes of her being mad, furious even, so you starve the nights off with a never ending pile of paperwork and coffee.
… Did I just accidentally character study?-
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ghouljams · 3 months
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Læknir [Chapter 5]
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Tags: Viking au, Viking!Soap, highlander!reader, healer!reader, Soap x f!reader, medical procedures, bodily fluids(blood and puss), slow burn, Gaz is here Hi Gaz
Summary: It's funny, you don't even think about what your participation means, whether it will be seen as compliance, or an acceptance of your situation. You're a healer, and you have patients to treat.
You peak over the fur lined bedroll you’d spent most of the night tossing and turning on. Mactavish sits beside you in the same cross legged position he took last night. His eyes are fixed on the tent’s flap, something cold and impenetrable holding his features. Somewhere in the pit of your stomach you pity him. You don’t know for what, or why, but the moment is broken when his eyes dart to yours. He seems to pull his charm on like a well worn cloak, his smile bright enough you almost miss the way it barely touches his eyes. You wonder if he slept any better than you did, if he slept at all. Though any sleep would be better than what you got. Every shift in the wind had woken you last night, every creaking footstep, every howl of some poor distant animal making your bones quake. You’ve been brave enough for a lifetime, you’re not stupid enough to sleep.
“You were busy last night,” Mactavish quips as you sit up. You shoot him a quick glare, and don’t bother entertaining his teasing. The soft grey light of morning is filtering in under the tent flap and you’d rather be up before anyone can force you up. “There’s breakfast,” He tries a different approach.
“You don’t have anyone better to bother?” You ask him quickly, biting the hand that tries to feed you. He doesn’t flinch.
“Captain hasn’t come lookin’ for me yet.”
As if on cue the tent flap is pulled aside. You’re unsurprised to see a viking, you wish you could find it a relief that it’s one you almost recognize. The dim morning light washes all the warmth from his dark skin, but Mactavish smiles a little more genuinely when he sees him. Having more men in the tent makes you nervous, you try not to let it show on your face.
“Captain wants-” Your tired brain does its best to translate as the viking speaks, you pick up on pieces of words, try to parse together a sentence. You catch the tail end of it, “out” and try not to settle yourself in doom. Mactavish nods. You always fancied yourself smart for being able to translate an unfamiliar tongue. He makes you feel stupid, a viking better than you at something you prided yourself on.
He speaks in the harsh tongue easily, pulls the words together like a musician. You hear his tone shift to the affirmative, and a “Thanks mate.” in your own tongue. You wonder if you’ll fall into such easy switches. You hope not. You hope that this tongue, this culture keeps its hooks out of you for as long as it takes you to find a way to freedom. Mactavish turns his attention to you.
“Gaz is gonna take you around to check the other men,” He tells you. Gaz. You file the name away for future reference. 
“Where are you going?” You ask, some sick rolling thing in your stomach hates him for abandoning you so soon after stealing you away. His brows draw together in confusion, you wonder if he knows what made you ask, if he thinks you have any sort of draw to him.
“Have to deal with a couple things, you’ll be alright without me,” He assures you, “Gaz won’t let anythin’ happen to ya.”
You glance at Gaz, he smiles at you. Again you find a spark of pity in his eyes. You wish he’d turn that wretched emotion on someone else.
Mactavish touches your arm and you jerk away from him, his fingers tighten into a fist in response, almost as quickly as you’d moved. You don’t bother looking at him, despite the way you feel him stare, and grab your pack as you move around him, ducking under Gaz’s arm and into the open air. The morning’s chill makes you deflate a little.
The high cliff face separating the beach from the highlands feels insurmountable. A giant wall set up between you and the life you once led. You’re struck by the gnawing pit in your stomach that whispers to you, you can never go home. Gaz comes to stand beside you, eyes fixed on the dark cliffs. He must have come from somewhere too, right? What does he see, what wall has been erected by the gods to stop him? You push the thought from your mind. Pity does nothing and serves no one. It’s a connection you’re eager to set yourself apart from.
“Over here,” Gaz tells you, turning away from the cliff and walking towards the still burning fire. He doesn’t touch you, and for that you’re grateful. You follow after him, if you’re going to pretend to be a healer you may as well make a play at actually healing.
Vikings huddle around the fire, talking and laughing, the warmth of it still radiates strong, the smoke still billows. It’s funny how much you can hate something that once brought you so much comfort. Your eyes fix on it too long.
“Læknir,” Gaz calls, and you jerk your head, sure he’s talking to you. You file the word away, ashamed to think you might ask Mactavish about it later. “Look after the men,” He continues once he has your attention. You glance at the vikings sitting around the fire, and nod. If you’re going to survive, and you must survive, it’s better to be a healer.
There’s a palpable distance between you and the vikings. Gaz hovers nearby, waiting to help translate as best he can, and you catch the other men glancing at him occasionally, but for the most part the vikings don’t stop their conversations as you check them over. Most are in good health. Their scars are pink and silver, others more purple, healing, healed, well taken care of. You wonder what their healers back home are like.
You poke at one of the viking’s shoulders and he hisses. You’re quick to grab at his cloak, tugging at the fur to get a better look at what’s causing him pain. Your bedside manner has always left something to be desired. The viking looks startled, more confused than you really expected him to be. You give another tug and he grabs at the edge of his cloak to wrap it around himself more securely. Big baby.
Gaz says something, covering barely contained anger. The viking responds and Gaz hums. “Læknir,” He settles a hand on your shoulder and you glance at him, “you need to ask.”
You look back at the viking who looks a little put out by your insistent yanking. You- you think you were hurting him. You forgot. You forgot that you could hurt these men. Something akin to guilt flashes hot in your stomach, twists in on itself until you feel sick. It isn’t the fact you’ve hurt someone that does it.
It’s the way you want to feel good about hurting him. You want to feel some sort of vindication, like this is their penance for stealing you away. If you can hurt them, maybe you can do more than just bide your time. The thought sickens you. You hope there never comes a day where these men force you to become as violent as they are.
“I need to look,” You tell the viking in your stilted, inelegant translation, “please.”
The viking sighs and unclasps his fur, his cloak, lets you pull his loose shirt to the side to check his shoulder. You palpate the area with your fingers, checking for breaks and dislocations. It’s sort of… squishy? Moveable but in a way that makes the viking hiss. There’s a fresh scar running along the length of the bump you’re pressing. You think you remember this happening to one of the men in your village, an excess of blood and phlegm built up under the skin. The elders had brought you and a few other apprentices to watch the extraction of it.
You turn to rummage through your bag to try to find your notes. There are few things more precious to you in this world than the bag you carry at your side, the last remaining vestiges of home and a firm reminder of what you are. You pull a book free from its pocket, and flip through the carefully penned pages. Your crude sketches and quick handwriting aren’t anything to boast about, but the knowledge contained within them is more than you’re sure vikings have.
“I need,” You fish for the correct word as you pull your knife free, the blade flashes wickedly, you look up at Gaz, “He needs to bite.” You make the motion with your teeth, clenching your jaw to be sure he’s got the point. He’s smart, you’ll give the viking that much, Gaz rummages through his own pockets and pulls a strip of thick leather free. You nod quickly and stand to hold your knife in the fire.
If you’re going to do this under scrutiny you may as well take every precaution. A hot knife stops bleeding before it starts, though the smell of it is… unpleasant. You can only thank the gods that you keep your tools sharp, staring at the blade as it darkens with heat. You know the metal is heated enough when it hurts your hand. The heat biting into your palm almost feels good. Penance for cooperating with the wolves.
When you turn back to your patient he’s got the leather strap between his teeth, and two more men holding him steady. You almost feel bad, but it isn’t your job to feel bad, it’s your job to fix. It’s your job to be quick enough that your patients don’t suffer unnecessarily. You move close, side step around the vikings to push your fingers against your patient’s skin, feeling the squish that needs to be excised.
You press the blade of your knife to the viking’s shoulder, and he tenses with a low groan of pain. Less than you’d expected. You suppose these men are used to pain. Your cut is short, but deep enough you can feel where the skin breaks for puss. You can see it too, the viscous yellow that spills over the edges of the wound. You grimace when it flows, warm, over your fingertips and reposition your hand around the edges of the squishy pocket. Gaz hands you a cloth, exchanges it for your knife, and you hold it under the wound to catch the sickness that you carefully squeeze out.
You push against the viking’s skin until it’s just blood running from the wound. When you’re satisfied you’ve gotten all the sick out, you hold the cloth out to Gaz. He grimaces, and jerks his head towards the fire. Ah. You chuck the soiled linen into the blaze and ignore the crackle of fluid heating. You dig through your bag again, pulling needle and thread free of their places, and carefully knot a few stitches in the fresh wound. It’s ugly, but it does the job keeping the skin together. You’ll have to check the wound again in a few days to be sure the puss hasn’t come back, but it doesn’t seem like you’ll be going anywhere.
You shake the blood off your fingers, letting the red splatter on the grey rocks of the beach. It’s sort of satisfying doing your job, you’ve been training in it long enough. Turning your attention back to the viking he’s attempting to pull his shirt back into place. You’re quick to try and stop him, fussing with your bag and tugging a jar free. You open the seal and dip your fingers into the golden honey within, smearing it over the fresh wound.
Gaz hands you another length of cloth and you tie it tight around the viking’s shoulder. It’s dirty work, but between the two of you it’s been quick. That’s good, less risk if medicine is quick.
You cap the honey, wiping your fingers on your skirt. More stains for the unassuming fabric, but better this than dirtying your earasaid. You look away from your patient as he pulls his shirt back into place, refastens his cloak, and make eye contact with the captain. His gaze is just as flinty as it was yesterday, hard as stone and just as unyielding. Mactavish is next to him, and smiles when your eyes dart to him. The captain turns and shifts his attention back to his crew. You turn your attention to reorganizing your bag as Mactavish makes his way towards you.
“You keep honey on you?” He asks, snatching the jar from where you’d set it. You’re just as quick to snatch it back. Your annoyance flares.
“I found a hive while I was in the forest,” You tell him, keeping your eyes focused on your work as you settle your book and the jar reverently into their places, “wasted too much time collecting it, you wouldn’t have-”
You bite your tongue, cut yourself off. If you hadn’t wasted so much time on the honey you might have finished gathering herbs in time to avoid Mactavish. Maybe then you could have done something to help your family. Or perished with them, a quiet voice whispers to you. It would have been better than this, you tell the voice.
You look at Mactavish when he’s been quiet too long. His face is unreadable, but his posture is rigid. He isn’t here just to bother you. You straighten from your rummaging, afford yourself all the height you can steal to meet his eye.
“What?” You ask.
“You’re hired,” He tells you, though it does nothing to ease his posture; you blink at him and go back to your bag, untwisting the strap to pull it over your shoulder, “and-”
“And I don’t have a choice in the matter” You grumble. Mactavish grips your chin with firm fingers, turns you to look him in the eye again. His eyes are stormy, the brilliant blue yielding to clouds the same way the sky does. It startles you enough to keep you still.
“And we’re going home.” He says home like a finality, like the last wheezing breath before death. He says it like he means you to know his meaning without his saying it.
“Home.” You swallow and he nods.
“Aye, home.”
Not your home, you think, theirs.
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levmada · 4 months
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Levi-isms translated from his heart<3
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//taller!Reader, Levi can pick reader up, hcs, canonverse, so fucking sweet
1: "Are you blind? I’m busy.”
You moan in sheer agony from the doorway, and put on your best puppy dog eyes.
He scowls at you, or he might be just that tired. His eyes are so heavy it’s hard to tell the difference.
"But it's so cold and lonely without you. I’m even colder right now, as you can see.”
You’re not wearing pants.
Make the issue about him, and how important it is that he rests, and you get a scowl. Make it about you, and he stands up with frankly a bratty sigh, and runs his hand through his hair.
You smile sweetly as he nears. On the way, he undoes the top button of his pressed white shirt, giving you a glimpse of his adam’s apple.
you lean forward and kiss his cheek. "Missed you…”
He looks up at you, eyes softening, and ruffles your hair a little. "Ugh... So annoying…"
You care enough about me to lose sleep... I could never ask for something that you freely give up, and it drives me crazy. How can one person have this power over me, anyway?
2: He's too angry to even pace around the hospital tent. This fire rampages in his veins with his blood as lit gasoline.
He can't remain calm with your fingers clutched in your lap, broken, reduced to a mound of bandages that seem to captivate you; you refuse to look at him.
He tells himself that it's not necessarily you he's angry at, that yelling won’t mend broken bones—but he can’t contain himself.
"What the hell were you thinking!?” he blurts out. “Throwing yourself into harm's way isn’t fighting—it’s suicide for self-righteous fools. What will we do now that you’re useless?"
Why?? Why is it easy even for you to be taken away from me whether you devote your whole heart or not?—and you do. So I need you to be more careful. I can't be there all the time. What will I do to keep you alive from here? You'll cooperate with me, won't you?
I can’t believe this… but I don’t want you to be devoted; I want you to be safe.
3: You finish explaining your plan with an uncertain smile sent his way.
To be fair, it's quite the tall order to sneak into Hange's lab, but he can't see any holes in it. As long as you get in quick, Levi can have it cleaned before supper.
"Not bad. It just might work. But don't let it get to your head."
You're smart. Thanks for the help. But it’s not like I like you or anything…
4: "No worries." You beam. "I'll have them swept up in no time—with Mike's help too, of course."
Even if he tried, he couldn't smile at your confidence. There's never telling what will happen when it's a fight against the Titans.
He looks ahead, squinting through the wind whipping at his bangs. You're both coming up on the south end of the forest again. It's packed with trees that'd be perfect for setting up camp, if only it wasn't infested with Titans. Four separate squads are pushing in from each direction, with Levi's squad at the north where Mike smelled the most action.
It's risky... no surprise there. He doesn't have overwhelming positivity, but what he does have—en masse—is faith in you.
"Alright... Use your best judgment in there. Don't die. If there's a sign of anything you can't handle, don't be stupid to take it all on your own. Just shoot up a flare and someone will be on their way."
I'm sending you on your own, so I know that you're strong. You can take care of yourself. But still. Be careful, I love you.
5: “Quit resisting.”
“What’re you doing, arresting me??” you cackle as Levi lifts you off your feet. He even pins you over his shoulder while you cry out in laughter. “Baby, it was just a little more work…”
"Nope.” With hardly a grunt, he swings the door open that feeds into the hallway and begins the march to your quarters. “If you keep this up, no amount of caffeine is going to save you. And I won't be there to baby you when you pass out and fall on your face. You're going. I'll pick up the slack."
I don't want you to work yourself down to the bone so much that you're forced to rely on me... So take care of yourself, I'll manage the rest.
Levi masterlist | main masterlist
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rin-fukuroi · 2 months
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𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 [𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲]
Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.
If you want to support me and read my other works that won't be on Tumblr, you can always do it on my Boosty~
Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail
Pairings: yandere!Sunday x fem!reader
Warnings: a bit of obsession and Sunday is the obvious stalker here, but no more triggers.
▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Loluet - I beg you
Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq
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It's so mean to eavesdrop on your thoughts*, but Sunday just can't stop.
You think he's pretty cute when he gives you another gift. You think his appearance is quite attractive for your taste. You think that the smell coming from Sunday, when he accepts your grateful embrace, is so exquisite, to match a man of his position. You think you'd probably feel safe near him.
You think Sunday is a little intrusive. You think he probably has a lot of fans, because he's so handsome. You think that the attention of a man with such a high position on Penacony is burdensome, because you are clearly not his match, so why does he continue to behave as if he is in love with you? You think that you are anxious near him, even though you cannot find any explanation for this feeling that suddenly arises in his presence.
Your thoughts warm Sunday's soul, and they also wound him to a nagging pain in his chest.
He really would like to stop doing this, but he's ready to give you the whole world. Even the dreams in which you are so happy, he'll bring that to life, if you only wish. It's probably corny to mentally promise a star from the sky just for you, but Sunday's ready to make the sky itself fall at your feet if this is the price for your smile. But you don't want any of this. You don't want him.
Why?
It's really so damn hard for Sunday. Helplessness, such disgusting helplessness torments him day by day, while he listens to your voice all day long, wanting to hear what you remember about him. But, as soon as the farewell separates the two of you, such useless thoughts fill your head, in which he has no place. And it's cruel. You're so cruel, but Sunday can't be mad at you.
How pathetic he must look, covering his own face with wings to hide the way his cheeks turn red and the corners of his lips lift in a gentle smile at the mere memory of how your honey voice pronounces his name. But this is not enough. Why not color your voice with brighter colors? Maybe… Red notes that give your tone of adoration and passion? You'll want him, and you'll get him if you just call. Playful pink notes will desire him with airy tenderness. Oh, how beautifully his name will shimmer on your tongue.
«It seems like I've been on Penacony for so long… It's worth coming home»
No, no, honey. Why go back to a place where he's not?
«He's looking at me so strangely again, as if he can read my mind…»
You have a great intuition, that's commendable. Sunday admires you even when his honor as a man and family member is at stake.
«Will Sunday be upset if he finds out that I'm leaving this place soon? Probably not»
Oh, darling, where did you get such thoughts in your lovely head? You're breaking Sunday's heart. How can he let you go? Dreams will lose their magic without you, this beautiful little world will lose light without your smile, the whole universe will lose its voice without the sound of your laughter.
«I guess I should just thank him for everything»
Don't mention it. Sunday would do anything for you. Tell him to rip the heart out of his chest, and he will present you with a bloody pulsating muscle in his palm.
— Y/N, — again this charming smile adorns the already perfect face of a man when he stretches out his hand bending over your figure. — Your hair is disheveled.
He can touch your hair, right? Of course he can. He hears a voice in your head, and you want the same thing, you just can't admit it even to yourself. It's an attraction between you and him… You have to feel it the same way Sunday feels it. He'll help you again, he just need to tweak your memories a little. You'll share with him all the feelings that Sunday experienced all the time spent with you. Desire him, love him, be there for him. That's all he can ask of you. It only takes his palm to touch your cheek…
The heat penetrates into the pores, permeates the skin, flows into the veins, spreading throughout the body until it captures the mind with rainbow waves blurring the eyes. And only the image of Sunday is so clear. You look into golden eyes that meet you with piercing gaze, and you see in them so much pain, torment, from which an unpleasant bitterness knits on the tongue. And then the sweetness. A cloying but airy sweetness. Every piece of sugar that gets into your mouth melts on your tongue, and for some reason an unfamiliar taste evokes so many memories that you seemed to be cruelly deprived of, and now they have returned to you, responding with a tremor in your chest.
«Y/N… listen to my voice»
You know him. This tenderness with which a man pronounces your name is so painfully familiar.
«You're happy here next to me, Y/N»
He's right, but why do his words seem so wrong to you…
«Touch me, Y/N, put your hand on my chest and feel my heart pounding. Just like yours… Aren't we made for each other?»
Of course. Of course, you're made. You can feel it. Soft pulsations touch the fingertips, beating off a sweet melody, so lulling and causing an irresistible desire… But what do you want?
«You're mine, Y/N. And I'm yours, forever»
Exactly. And how could you forget?..
It is so warm and cozy, as if beloved hands are pressing you to your heart, rocking you to an alluring lullaby, involving you in a sweet dream. And it doesn't matter at all if this dream is viscous and sticky, like a spider's web woven just for you. He'll take care of you if you just give up.
— That's better, isn't it?
«Has Sunday always been so… beautiful?» — what kind of strange thoughts are going through your head? Of course, always. The hours spent remembering how pleasant his wings are to the touch, how soft his skin is under your fingers, how pleasant the sound of your name escaping from his lips is, flash before your eyes, like a living reminder of the truth that lurks somewhere so deep, but lying on the surface, if you only dare say it.
You love him. You love him with all your heart, so long ago and so unconditionally that you feel ashamed that you dared to doubt the perfection of his face, the very sight of which is enough to make a muscle in your chest tremble.
The man notices your slight confusion, and grins melodiously.
— I mean the hair, — long eyelashes hang over the irises, shimmering with gold, when Sunday tilts his head to one side, not taking his eyes off you and continuing to smile charmingly.
— Oh, yes … thank you, — you awkwardly look away, and your cheeks involuntarily blush. — You know, I wanted to ask you something.…
The gold is covered with an icy crust, sharp and tingling skin, over which Sunday's gaze slides while you shift from foot to foot, trying to find words.
— Can I… stay here? — you hesitantly look up at the man with an innocent look, quietly uttering the last words. — With you…
«If only he didn't say no… I won't survive this…»
Oh, you're so lovely. Charming, charming, charming.
The ice is cracking, defeated by the vibrations of your sweet voice, which appeals so imploringly to Sunday. Isn't this happiness?
The tips of elegant long gloved fingers rest on your chin, lifting your head before a kiss touches your lips. So needy, oozing with obsession and love, with insane awe, which now seem so familiar to you, as if these feelings were always somewhere nearby, but burst into your heart only now, blooming like forget-me-nots somewhere deep in your chest.
«Don't ever ask again… My love», — it was never said out loud, but you managed to hear Sunday's velvety voice shamelessly invading your consciousness while his lips greedily but slowly devour yours. And you don't mind at all.
Your thoughts, one way or another, from now on will be filled only with him.
*Sunday is a representative of the Halovian species, one of the features of which is reading the thoughts of others, however, the ability to rewrite memories and, in principle, somehow influence the consciousness of another living being is not It is one of the abilities of this species. This ability of Sunday in this work is based on a completely plausible theory that he, like his sister, are Emanators of the Aeon of Harmony, because if we recall our first meeting with Family in the World of Dreams, then we can see how Robin is doing something similar, helping us with the "side effects" of the first immersion in a dream.
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smileyerim · 1 year
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lifestyles of the rich and famous
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Your coworkers are really tired of hearing you pine over a guy who doesn’t want you, so they decide it’s finally time to do something about it. Thankfully the hot young son of the country club’s owner just walked in the door and sat at your bar.
main pairing: rich boy!johnny suh x bartender!reader
minor pairing: fuckboy!jaehyun x reader
genre: fluff, suggestive, slight angst !!MDNI!!
length: 8k
warnings: adults having sex, smoking weed, drinking alcohol, vaping, jaehyun is a lying fuckboy
net tags: @kflixnet @neowritingsnet
if you repost or translate my work i’ll feed you to the metaphorical sharks (aka angry tumblr writers)
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You’re a simple girl with simple desires, you like to think. You’re not demanding, nor are your dating requirements long or difficult to meet.
So when the guy you’ve been seeing for a couple of weeks decides that now of all times is the most appropriate time to begin speaking to you with short responses and leave you on read for hours on end, you’re pissed.
So much so that you feel validated enough in your desire to tell him off to your friends/coworkers but they seem to have differing opinions.
“I mean, he’s not your boyfriend Y/N.” Doyoung, always too blunt for his own good, says and it makes a groan escape your chest as you let your head fall onto Yerim’s shoulder in a painful thud.
“Thanks, Doyoung.” You say, speech mumbled against Yerim’s cotton polo uniform.
“You need a rebound. Let this inconsistent and slimy motherfucker go.” Yerim says and you hum in response, still leaning into her shoulder from your position behind her back.
“I don’t want another guy, I want Jaehyun.”
You’re startled into standing up straight by the reverberating banging sound of a hand coming into contact with the metal table separating you two from Doyoung.
“Too bad,” Doyoung says, looking directly into your eyes “He’s not yours so just let it go!”
You stare back with wide eyes and Yerim interjects, turning to lean against the table behind her and face you.
“He’s right, babe. It’s time to let him go. You don’t deserve to be led on like this.” Yerim says with her usual gentle tone of voice and you frown, looking down at the ugly shoes your boss forces you to wear behind the bar.
“You’re right. You’re both right.” You say, turning to give Doyoung your scariest look, “You’re incredibly cruel about it, but you’re right.”
Sure, your friends may have been right about your need to leave Jaehyun in the dust and move on to bigger and better things but you’re weak and never claimed not to be.
That’s why you choose to spend the last five minutes of your thirty minute break in the corner of the staff restroom taking and then deleting what feels like fifty Snapchat pictures.
Emerging from the restroom you’re immediately faced with Yerim with her arms crossed across her chest, staring you down in the way that communicates that she knows exactly what you were just getting up to.
“Either you just took the fattest shit of your life, or you were just texting Jaehyun.”
You don’t respond, brushing your shoulder on hers to pass her and clock back in.
With your last customer served her jack and coke, you decide it’s finally time to check your phone again. Forty five minutes is enough time for a man to come to his senses, open your Snapchat, and respond with an overly enthusiastic compliment and apology for being so unavailable, right?
Before you can even allow your phone to scan your face, it’s being snatched out of your hand.
“What the fuck!” You exclaim, hand chasing Yerim’s in an unattractive and unsuccessful flail.
“No, you aren’t doing this.” She chastises with one finger pointing at you. She’s somehow slipped your phone to somewhere you can’t spot it with a quick scan of your eyes up and down her now apron-clad body.
“You can have it back after your shift.” She says and you roll your eyes at her, leaning your hip uncomfortably into the short fridge behind the bar.
“Come on Yerim, that’s in three hours. What if he responds and asks me to hangout? That won’t be nearly enough time to get ready and by then he will have made other plans and-“ you ramble your embarrassing train of thought.
“Hush, you’re embarrassing yourself in front of a cute guy.”
You frown, arms crossing your chest as you follow Yerim’s line of sight to a bar stool behind you currently taken by oh- an extremely attractive guy with long brown hair tucked behind his ears. He’s waiting patiently for... well, you.
“Go serve him.” She says once you whip your head back over to face her again.
“Fuck.” You groan, grabbing your sanitizing towel and pretending to wipe down the bar in an act of stubborn defiance to Yerim and procrastination.
You know him, you’d be a fool if you didn’t. He’s what some would call a country club celebrity with how he’s gained recognition for being the best singles tennis player and for his last name being on the front of the building. His family photos are littering the hallways, a particularly precious photo of him as a kid with a half melted ice cream cone is situated on the front door of the child care center.
His father owns the country club, and he is much cuter in person than he is in his old family photos. He doesn’t visit your bar ever, so you’re intrigued to know why he’s here.
“Oh,” Yerim says stepping into your bubble and combing her fingers through your knotted hair, “go fix your hair first.” She says and you roll your eyes, hand blindly grasping at your back pocket in search of your cell phone.
“Here,” she says, handing you her bulky iPhone with some Sanrio phone case, “go in the back.” You roll your eyes again at her mistrust of you before following her orders, quickly rushing into the kitchen and pulling up her front camera to inspect your appearance.
Emerging from the kitchen, you feel a pair of eyes on you immediately and you look right back, making unexpected eye contact with the handsome man who’s been waiting. You flash him your brightest customer service smile before rushing over to stand across from him at the bar.
“Hey, sorry about that,” he waves you off in dismissal of your apology before smiling at you, “what can I get for you?”
He’s still smiling a very polite smile, his eyes shining with kindness and it makes you weak in the knees. Working at a country club comes with a lot of perks, but those perks were bought with a price. The price being dealing with the type of people that belong to a country club, the rudest and most stuck up wealthy people in your town. You don’t meet people like him so often, genuinely kind people.
“I’ll take a vodka soda with extra lime whenever you find the time.” He smiles at you again and you actually feel your knees buckling at his kindness.
“Premium or well?” You respond out of habit, your brain fogging with his presence. He shoots you an unbelievable look that makes you both laugh. Forgoing an immediate response, you shake your head and scoff at yourself when you grab a glass to pour ice into.
“Top shelf, duh, sorry again.” You apologize as you press the sparkling water button on your soda gun.
“Stop apologizing so much!” He says and you look up from his drink to catch his kind eyes staring back at you in a way that makes you want to blush.
“I-I don’t know what to say.” You say, now in front of him situating the lime wedge on the side of his glass.
He takes a sip before responding. “I just know how understaffed you are.”
You lean an elbow up on the bar, “I didn’t know it was that obvious.” Your cheeks flare up with another blush.
“It isn’t!” He clarifies, hand coming down to grab at your forearm in reassurance. You ignore sparks that shoot from his contact with your skin.
“I just-“ He says, removing his hand to play with the branded cocktail napkin under his glass, “sometimes they actually put me to work around here and I know how small your staff is.”
You hum, pensive frown on your face as you look around. You are short staffed.
“So what work do they make you do?” You tease, not really wanting this conversation to end.
“Dad tries to put my accounting degree to work by making me do our books every once in a while, but more recently he’s got me planning for the new garden. As if I would know anything about landscaping.”
You laugh at his charming joke, taking a moment just to steal a quick once over his appearance. He’s wearing a blue polo with some brands insignia stitched onto the breast pocket, a watch you’re assuming is very expensive from a luxury brand on his right wrist, and a tennis racket cover placed on the barstool next to him. He’s handsome, of course, with his kind eyes and long brown hair tucked behind his surprisingly pierced ears.
“Well I’ve been a bartender since college. So I wish I could be of more assistance, but I can’t offer any help.” You quip with a sigh and he smiles back.
“You have your degree, huh? What’re you doing here?” You find it charming that he’s actually engaging you in conversation.
“All I said was that I was in college, not that I finished.” You say, slight embarrassment lacing your voice.
“Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t finish.” He says and you shoot him a look urging him on to explain further.
He smirks at your offense before continuing, “We wouldn’t have met if you didn’t work here, and I don’t know about you, but I’m quite enjoying your company.”
A blush creeps it’s way up your neck, a coy expression on your face as your head drops down to stare at the sanitization bucket behind the bar.
“Gotta go, I have a tennis lesson in fifteen.” He says, standing and taking another sip of his drink.
“See you around.” He says with a final look and you nod, waving him off.
No more than 30 seconds after you watch his tall figure leave the restaurant, you see him slowly jogging back towards the bar.
“What’s your name?” He says, wrist resting on the back of the barstool opposite of you.
With a grin you tell him your name and he replies with a warm smile.
“I’m Johnny.”
“Nice to meet you, Johnny.” Your voice light with affection.
He nods at you, reaching into his wallet and digging out a five dollar bill, throwing it on the bar and ignoring your shouts of protest as he leaves the restaurant for the final time.
Later that evening when you check your phone after Yerim slides it at you from across the bar, you notice that Jaehyun still hasn’t opened your photo.
Surprisingly, though, you don’t care nearly as much as you expected to; with the thoughts of a very tall and handsome tennis player in the back of your mind.
Johnny comes by a lot more often after your first interaction, and you’re just a little too aware to pretend like you don’t know what for. He comes in, same bashful smile on his face as always, sits down, waits patiently for your attention, spends at least an hour or two chatting with you, and then leaving a five dollar bill on the bar.
Today’s no different, except that it’s been 98 hours since Jaehyun last spoke to you and you’re feeling antsy for attention.
“Johnny, hi!” You chirp out, leaping up out of your stool to walk over to the same section of the bar he always sits at.
“Someone’s a happy girl.” He snickers as he sits down.
“Yes she is, how did you know?” You tease, teeth sinking into your top lip.
“So what’s the good news? What’s got you so happy?” He says, smile painting his face. He thinks you’re cute.
“My favorite customer walked in.” You say, cheeky smile on your face as you look dead into his eyes from beneath your eyelashes.
He pretends to be touched, as his hand flies up to press against his chest in an overly dramatic way that makes you laugh and drop your flirty act.
“I have a proposal for you.” He leans in, eyes sparkling.
“What is it?” You blush.
“Let’s go swimming tonight!” He whisper shouts.
You tilt your head in confusion when you look up at him, “the pool closed at 4.”
“Not when you fucking own the pool, Y/N!” He leans in, eyes anticipating.
He’s so cute this way, and it feels really nice to be wanted when you’ve been getting ignored so obviously by the man you think you want.
It’s a no brainer.
“Let’s go!” You say after rolling your eyes and Johnny stands up on the foot bar of the stool, hands up in the air in victory.
You giggle as you swat a dry towel at his now exposed lower torso to encourage him to sit back down. Once he’s sat, he clears his throat and looks around with wide eyes in fake suspicion, and it just makes you laugh harder. For a moment your eyes meet as you two laugh, and it forces the butterflies in your belly to awaken and flutter in their cage.
He seems to have felt the moment shift too, as his smile falters for a second before going back to his wide grin.
“I’ll be back when you’re done.” Johnny says, grabbing his drink, tossing a five dollar bill on the bar, winking, and then quickly exiting the bar.
Two hours later, the bar is absolutely dead with zero customers in sight. You still have ten minutes to go of your shift, yet you’ve already completed all of your closing duties, just sitting by and waiting.
“Damn, what did you do to everyone?” The familiar voice shouts from the entrance of the bar and you smile. Finally, you think.
“You’re early, I still have a couple minutes to go.” You pout as he approaches the bar.
“Seriously? But nobody’s here. Let’s just go.” He draws out the ‘o’ sound, leaning his tall body over the bar to get in your face.
“Johnny, I’m not breaking two staff rules tonight.” You wave him off and he lets out a humph sound as he sits.
A mischievous smile then moves over his face as he opens a wallet, and hands you a twenty dollar bill.
You grab it between your pointer and middle finger and eye him suspiciously, “What’s this for?”
He smiles even wider, he’d wanted you to ask. “I wanna buy my favorite bartender a drink on the last ten minutes of her shift. Is that okay?”
You smile, waltzing over to the cash register and opening a tab. If Johnny wants you to enjoy your evening, who are you to stop him from making that happen?
Forty minutes and two more drinks downed, the two of you are finally tip toeing down the cobblestone path to the pool deck.
Johnny looks over his shoulder at you with a playful glint in his eyes as he hushes you.
“Whatever happened to ‘there is no closing time, I own the place!’?” You chastise, weak fists coming in contact to the back of his shoulder.
“I- oh shit,” he says, arm flying out to stop you in your tracks, but of course you drunkenly stumble right into his arm anyways.
He’s got a focused look on his face, and his chin is tilted up as if he’s listening out for someone. The coast is clear, obviously, when Johnny begins walking now with you two side by side.
“I may have fibbed about the no rules thing.” You roll your eyes at him in the dark. Of course he lied about it, you wouldn’t be here sneaking around after sundown if he wasn’t.
“No fucking shit.” you snap, but quickly dissolve into drunk giggles when he makes an offended face at you. He’s been doing that a lot lately, making you laugh uncontrollably and feel giddy like a little girl with a crush.
“Gimme your jacket.” Johnny says and you frown, immediately shaking your head no. The evening breeze is just a little too cold for your liking.
“Come on, I gotta get the gate open.” He whines, gesturing towards the locked gate in front of you.
With another frown on your drunk face, you shimmy your athletic jacket off your shoulders and hand it to Johnny, who quickly grabs the jacket by the two arm holes creating a makeshift hook. He uses his height to his advantage (and frankly, for your visual enjoyment) to lean over the gate and Macgyver the door to open with one swift pull of the jacket over the stem of the door handle.
The view is great, you must add. His t-shirt has ridden up a bit exposing a small sliver of his midriff and seeing him use his height so smoothly is making you feel weak in the knees. You can’t help it, you’re drunk and a very attractive man is being just so manly in front of your eyes.
When the door pops open, you let out a squeal of excitement and he laughs, pushing the door open for you to step in before him.
“So that tiny fib about no rules really was a big fib, huh?” You tease as you strip off the oversized tee shirt you were using as a coverup.
It takes him a moment to respond, he’s a little distracted by the sight of your body to have heard your teasing remark.
“I— uh, sorry?” He says, bashful smile on his face as he strips out of his own tank top, and approaches you with a flirty smile on his face.
He’s close enough to touch you, but he doesn’t, and that makes your breath catch in your throat. He’s got a look on his face that you don’t recognize, and that bothers you a bit, but you brush it off.
You’re the first to run away and plunge into the deep end of the pool, your ears filling with the roaring sound of your body splitting the previously still water. Before you even have the chance to notice the cool water causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, Johnny’s jumping in after you, sending suffocating waves in your direction.
You squeal again, swatting the water towards him when he resurfaces, and running away towards the shallow end so you can stand on your flat feet.
He follows you, of course he does, and soon enough he’s standing in front of you with his whole upper body exposed above the water. You aren’t sure how you’ve never taken long enough to notice his height before, but it’s definitely on your radar now.
“Hey.” He smiles down at you, droplets of water dripping down from where they had collected on the end of his long dark hair.
“Hi,” you whisper up at him. The tension from before is here again as you stare up at him. Like before, he’s close enough to touch you, and you desperately want to feel his hands on your waist, but he doesn’t. Too afraid of what this would mean, of where you are now and where things may be going.
Fuck, you think, you might like Johnny.
You’re a simple girl with simple emotions and simple responses to those emotions. So what do you do at this realization?
Well, you splash him right in his stupid handsome face, of course.
He retaliates almost immediately by stepping back and splashing you with far more aggression than you did with him.
“Hey, you’re not playing fair!” You scream as you swat blindly at the water, too afraid to open your eyes and get water in them. You’ve already got a mouth full of chlorine from the laughing you’re doing, you don’t want the stinging feeling in your eyes too.
“You started it!” He shouts from the other side of the pool, not letting up, even for a moment, for you to breathe.
“Truce! Truce!” You call out over the noise, stumbling over your own feet below the water, gently floating back until your upper back is resting against the cold and hard concrete edge of the pool.
He begins to laugh when he sees your panicked face, moving in closer to you to tease you up close.
“Man, you fucking destroyed me. How can someone be good at splashing water?” You exclaim, defeated.
A smile is still on his face as he slowly takes a couple extra steps into your space.
“Tennis, baby.” He says, exaggerating his point by mimicking a down swing, hand dipping below the water and splashing up at you again.
You let out a screech, “I called a truce!”
He just chuckles, hands coming up in defense as he steps in closer with a playful look on his face. His eyes dip down to the cleavage exposed by your bikini top, only for a moment, before flicking up to look into your (still panicked) eyes.
He doesn’t say anything as he reaches his destination, toes almost touching below the water. His hands come up on either side of you to rest on the edge of the pool, your faces nearly inches apart. If the cold water of the pool hadn’t cooled you off so much, you’d be blushing like crazy. Your heartbeat does pick up again as he looks down at you.
Is he about to kiss you? He looks like he wants to, and you aren’t sure if you’d have the willpower to stop him if he tried.
Jaehyun crosses your mind at that moment. Sure, you aren’t official, but you think you'd like to be. How would he feel knowing you’re having a late night crime date with the wealthy son of your boss?
With the unmistakable look of want that flashes across Johnny’s eyes, you feel yourself begin to crumble. If you had wanted your brain to go back to Jaehyun in this moment you aren’t sure you’d be able to, too entranced under Johnny's spell. How can you still smell his woody cologne even after he got wet? Maybe that’s just his natural scent. The prospect of that being true sparks a fire of desire in your belly.
He’s leaning in now, figuring he had given you enough opportunities to push him off and away from you.
Of course, as if the universe is sending you a message, you hear another voice pierce through and pop the bubble you’ve created with Johnny.
“Hey, what’s going on in there!”
You haven’t been able to get last night off your mind, pulling all of your best distraction techniques out.
You tried to speak to Doyoung, but he had told you that your credits for emotional support friend had run out for the month, so that was a bust. You had tried to focus on work, but today was slow with the weekend just around the corner. You had even resorted to scrolling on Instagram, but then an ad for a pool cleaning company had come up, and your brain went straight back to the almost-kiss that you and Johnny nearly shared.
You hadn’t tried one thing though, but you think it would be a pretty shitty method.
Fuck it, you think, Johnny had left you wanting the company of a warm body and you know just the person to text.
Y/N: hey
Y/N: its been a min
You sit anxiously, biting at your freshly done manicure. This was one way to get your mind off of him, overwhelming anxiety and anticipation.
Jaehyun: ik lol sorry. u kno how work gets
Thank God, you think as you type out your next message.
Y/N: can i come over tn? i wanna hang out.
He responds almost immediately. He knew exactly what you were asking him for.
Jaehyun: ya. see u then ;)
Having the plans solidified with Jaehyun doesn’t feel the way you had originally thought they would, a sneaking feeling of guilt coming up over you.
What’s gotten into you? It’s almost as if you’ve forgotten who you’re pursuing.
It’s still Jaehyun, right?
It must be, since he’s the guy who you’ve been going out with for weeks, and have cried endless tears over. Johnny is just a friend. A friend who almost kissed you last night, but ultimately just a friend. You shouldn’t feel guilty for continuing to pursue Jaehyun, he’s the guy you want.
At least that’s what you tell yourself.
The sky is dark when you finally pull up to parallel park in front of Jaehyun’s house. You’re nervous for some reason, your palms slick against your steering wheel. It’s even more embarrassing that you didn’t have time after work to change, so you’re sitting in your usual white tennis skirt and club branded polo shirt.
You can hear shouts when you first approach the door, the noise startling you so bad you question if going inside is even the right choice. You decide the best call is to just text him that you’ve arrived.
Almost immediately after you hit send, you hear a loud hushing sound and a voice whisper-shout, “Shut the fuck up! Haechan, shut the fuck up. I have someone at the door.” and then a chorus of teasing “ooh”’s from the other voices.
It makes you smile at the boyish charm of Jaehyun caring, and that’s how he finds you when he opens the door. He’s barefoot and wearing grey sweatpants and a white tee shirt with a stretched out neckline from years of wear. His hair is wet, and his eyes are drooping like he had been smoking.
“Hey, babe.” He says and invites you into the now quiet home. You follow him down the dark hallway until you finally see on your left is a living room full of 6 men, all splayed out on different mismatched pieces of furniture, some MMA fight playing on the TV. The stale scent of marijuana lingers in the air, reinforced by the big blue and green water marble design bong on the coffee table.
“We’ll be in my room.” Jaehyun addresses the crowd, and a loud response of ooh’s and laughter get thrown in your direction. Jaehyun pushes you gently towards the hallway to the right of you, and you hear snickering from Jaehyun and more hushed whispers.
“Ignore them, they’re fucking weird.” Jaehyun whispers in your ear from behind. You can’t help but agree, but wonder if he has the self awareness to know that he’s acting just as weird as they are.
His room looks exactly how you expected it to, with a king sized mattress sitting atop a tall box spring on the floor directly adjacent to the door, a dresser across from the bed with some Netflix show quietly playing on the large TV. There’s purple LED lights stuck unevenly to the perimeter of the walls.
From the moment that the door is shut and locked, his hands are low on your hips. Your heartbeat picks up in speed at the contact, turning around to face him.
“Hi.” He says, smug smile on his face as he leans down to kiss you. It’s a gentle peck, and it makes a blush creep up and land on your cheeks. You hope the dim lighting hides your color.
“Hey, it’s been a while huh?” You jab, hands coming up to rest the palms of your hands against his firm pecs. You can feel his heartbeat through your left hand, it’s steady and slow cadence contrasting to your fast and hard heartbeat.
He raises one eyebrow at you, his hand trailing down to grab at your ass, “Come on baby,” he growls out before nudging his way into your neck to press a warm kiss to the space next to your carotid artery. “Don’t be like that. You know I’m busy.”
You melt at the feeling of his tongue poking out and licking a small stripe up your neck, sucking in the skin immediately after.
Confusingly, Johnny crosses your mind, and the idea of him seeing you with a hickey on your neck embarrasses you so bad that you tell Jaehyun not to mark you.
“Boring, but okay.” Is all he says before grabbing you by your hand and leading you to lie down on his bed.
You’re putty in his hands the moment he has you both naked. His skillful hands, mouth, and dick take you down like you’ve never been taken before. You’ve never moaned that loud or experienced such pleasure at the hands of a man. It’s so good, it makes you wonder why you didn’t do this earlier, but then you remember that he’s never invited you over before.
He’s never wanted you here before now. That must mean something, right? That he waited until after you had already gotten to know one another before having sex with you?
That means he likes you and wants to take you seriously, right?
In the afterglow of your orgasm, your head lies uncomfortably on Jaehyun’s bare chest. You make quiet and unfamiliar chit chat with Jaehyun until you’ve both caught your breaths.
Although you just had the best orgasm of your life, the post-nut clarity is hitting you like a bus, his hands feeling too foreign around your body, now suddenly hyper aware of the smeared remains of cum on your back drying down.
“Hey, uh, I hate to be that guy but I have a really early meeting at work tomorrow so,” he says, cold hands tucking your hair behind your ear.
“Oh,” is all you say, suddenly feeling far too embarrassed of your naked body in front of the man, “do you want me to leave?”
He just frowns and takes a moment to read the look between your eyes before sighing loudly and looking away, his focus now taken by Money Heist playing on the TV near the foot of his bed.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he lies and you can see right through it with the way his arms are slowly letting go of you, and how he won’t look you in the eyes.
“I just have work, baby. You get it right?” He says, and you have no choice but to nod silently, ignoring the deep sting in your chest and the tightness in your throat. It’s odd that although the one thing you want to do is run, him asking you to leave makes it hurt.
You get dressed quickly and awkwardly as he lies on the bed, fishing a vape out from his bedside table drawer and taking a few big hits, eyes staring straight ahead at the TV.
“I’m gonna go now.” You whisper, one hand on the door in a silent beg that he would hurry up and get dressed to walk you to the door.
He looks over at you, charming smile on his face as he sits up and awkwardly crawls across his bed to sit on the edge in front of you, his soft dick on display. You’d find him pathetic if you weren’t under him five minutes ago.
He leans in and places a hard and emotionless kiss to your lips. His kisses now feel nothing like they did earlier today, and you wonder if post-nut clarity could really be this powerful.
“I’ll see you.” He says, eyes scanning your body up and down.
You roll your eyes the moment you’re not facing him, and walk straight out his front door, ignoring the whoops and hollers from his roommates who definitely heard you and Jaehyun.
None of them seem to mind that you’re unaccompanied, or as if they were expecting anything different. Then again, why should they care? Jaehyun never introduced you to them.
When you finally slide into the drivers side of your car, and your cold and wet panties make uncomfortable contact with the inside of your upper left thigh, the sensation alone is enough to make you burst into hot tears.
Later that evening when you’re lying in bed after a long, hot shower and a motivational phone call with Yerim, you send him a text.
Y/N: we shouldn’t see each other anymore.
Read: 2:46AM
Johnny finds you the next day crouching behind the bar with your forehead in your hands. You didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night, and you’re feeling hungover after the whirlwind of confusing emotions you’ve felt over the last couple of days.
“Tough shift?” He says, eyes glimmering with amusement as he looks down at you hiding behind the bar.
“The worst.” You say, standing up straight and grabbing a glass to make him his usual drink.
“Wait,” he says, hand grabbing your wrist as you go to pour the soda in the iced glass.
“I have something that might chill you out. Wanna join me when your shift is up?” He says and you smile, reading right through his invitation and nodding with an appreciative smile on your face.
The “thing”, of course, is a perfectly rolled joint. You can’t help yourself but smile at his playful look as he presents it to you as you both sit in the front seat of some random golf cart overlooking the sunset as it falls down over the man-made lake that is central to the entire property.
He sparks it up for you in the way only a gentleman does, laughing at your antics when you pinch your fingers in a silly way to urge him to pass the joint onto you.
After a couple of passes back and forth in silence, only the whooshing sound of the breeze and the occasional tapping sound in the background as golfers across the way tee off, Johnny opens the conversation.
“So, miss Y/N,” you ignore the butterflies that erupt when he says your name in that way, “what made today so difficult?”
Ah, that. Your fuzzy brain thinks. You aren’t quite sure yet if you’re ready to divulge the details of your failed fling to your blooming crush, but you know what they say, intoxicated words are sober thoughts. And he’s right here offering to listen in a way that your friends are too fed up with you to listen to anymore, so you decide to tell him.
“I broke things off with a guy I’ve been seeing for a while.” You decide to keep it short and leave out all the embarrassing details.
“Ah,” he says as he stretches out, his arm coming to rest on the seat back behind you, deciding to let the joint die out. His arm is not around your shoulder, but a part of you really wishes it was.
“He sounds like an idiot.” He says, eyes drooping as he gives you a silly high smile.
You scoff, “He’s not an idiot for not wanting me.” He’s an idiot for other reasons, but you aren’t willing to share that just yet.
Johnny looks away from you and back out to the sunset, “Nah, he really really is. You’re a catch.”
The butterflies in your belly erupt as you swallow, staring at the side of his face with no thoughts of what to say next crossing your mind.
“Thanks.” Is what you finally croak out, reaching for the dead joint sitting on the short dashboard in front of you. When you lean back to light the joint, there’s something blocking your back from hitting the seat.
You look over at Johnny, your shoulders brushing his elbow and forearm from behind you. He smirks and gives you a side eye before snaking his arm up so that it rests across your shoulder. You don’t say anything at the new warmth and weight of his arm on you, so you just smile into the joint as you bring the lighter up to the end.
Johnny clearly isn’t reconciled with your conversation, so he continues with his compliments. He's hoping with everything in him that you pick up on his hints so he doesn’t need to continue to be so bold.
“You deserve a guy that’s gonna stick around.” He says, grabbing the newly lit joint from your fingers.
You scoff once more, scooting over to be a little closer to him on the seat as he takes a long drag, letting the slight spring breeze carry the smoke away out of his lips as he exhales.
“Try just a guy to stick.” You say with a dry chuckle, “we weren’t even official.”
Johnny hums and nods his head in understanding, passing the joint back to you.
“You fuck him?” He asks, and you choke on your hit. Coughing out the smoke in an unattractive spittle.
“What did you say?” You ask, now facing Johnny fully in the seat, staring between his pink and spacey eyes.
“I asked if you had slept with him.” Johnny nods, speaking slower than before. He looks as if this comment is no big deal to him, like this is casual conversation between you two.
Before you even think about it, you feel the flirty words leave your lips, “And if I did?”
His eyebrows raise as he grins at you, suppressing a laugh. He had gotten exactly what he wanted, “Was it good?”
You break eye contact this time, looking over the lake, “Maybe.” You shrug.
“See that explains why a stunning girl like you would stay with a loser like him.”
You say nothing in response, choosing to stare ahead at the golfers across the lake, the oldest gentleman of the pack teeing up his very poor shot.
Johnny takes a pause before speaking an unwelcome comment, “You need a guy that’ll stick around and dick you down.”
You scoff out another laugh, looking at him again with a disbelieving stare.
“Oh yeah? Where would I find that.” You spit the last word with bitterness, head falling to look at the hangnail you had been picking at between passes of the joint.
“Here, actually.” You stare at him in shock before he clarifies further,
“Like... me. I’m offering myself up. Only if you want, I mean.”
It takes you a minute to process what he says before it finally hits you, and it hits you hard.
You’re usually the overthinking type, if that wasn’t obvious enough, but for the first time in your life you decide to finally make an impulsive decision. You owe it to yourself and your vagina, you figure.
When your lips hit his, it takes him a moment to process what you had just done, but soon enough he’s kissing you back with a passion that makes you moan embarrassingly against his lips. He’s a soft, yet passionate kisser, allowing you to show him the ropes before taking the lead and kissing you exactly how he likes.
He’s also a surprisingly dry kisser, choosing to wait longer than you usually would to use his tongue on you. Even after a couple of flirty swipes of your tongue across his bottom lip he doesn’t give in, choosing to show you his softer side first with the slow and meaningful passes of his lips over yours.
It’s like a switch gets flipped when he does finally decide to allow your tongue to enter his mouth. He grabs you instantly by the back of your neck and waist, and pull you closer into him as your tongues dance. You moan, feeling like putty already in his hold. You’re far too overwhelmed by the feeling of the best kiss you’ve ever been given to be even tempted to touch him yet, your hands sitting prettily around his neck, allowing the pressure and the closeness to be decided by him.
His hands fumble a moment before they find your hips, moving gently over your ass to grab a hold of the back of your upper thighs to situate you on his lap. The change in position gives you an opportunity to lean back and steal a look at the man beneath you.
When you had first met Johnny you had initially only recognized his handsomeness and not much else. That’s how it began, attraction and nothing more. Overtime, however, you’ve gotten to actually know more about Johnny than his regular drink order at the bar, and what began as a simple attraction slowly grew into genuine interest. So by being here, in the lap of the man that you’re interested in, aren’t you repeating same old mistakes?
Are you repeating the same mistakes you made with Jaehyun?
“Baby,” Johnny says, reading your expression after you had stared at him for a little too long.
You hum in response, still a bit caught up in your head.
“I’m not just trying to hook up here. Do you know that?” He says, hands leaving your ass to rest gently on your waist. You frown in response, shaking your head ‘no’ to his question.
“I told you before, you need a guy who can dick you down and stick around. I wanna stick around.” He says, an embarrassed smile resting on his pink cheeks.
“What?” You say in response, and he just lets his head fall back against the seat in frustration.
“I like you, okay?” Your jaw drops, “and I also want to fuck you right now. So can we do that?” You laugh in response, fingers threading to hold him by the back of his neck, leaning him slightly into you.
“We can definitely go do that.” You giggle and he quickly smiles, leaning up to press a quick peck to your lips before swiftly (and awkwardly) moving you off of him so he can start up the golf cart and drive you both, as quickly as possible, back to the lobby of the country club.
Johnny doesn't give you long to take in the sight of his luxury apartment before his lips are on yours again. He has the same passion from before, but slightly elevated. Like he had worked himself up on the drive over.
When he picks you up, and tosses you lightly down on his plush leather sofa, you notice something. The absence of purple lights. When Johnny later picks you up and carries you to his bedroom, you make another note. A bed with a bed frame and headboard.
When you both reach your peaks of pleasure, you don't feel regretful and dirty, you feel alive. When you step into the granite tiled shower, you don't feel gross, you feel giddy when he joins you. When you fall asleep with your head on his chest, you don't dream of Jaehyun, you see flashes of Johnny.
The next morning when Johnny walks you out to your car, kisses you on the forehead, and tells you to text him when you get home, an unmistakable feeling washes over you. 
The overwhelming feeling of something very big, and important beginning. 
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Jaehyun’s reaction to finding out about Johnny and Y/N
a/n: sorry there’s no actual smut, I decided at the last minute to drop both sex scenes for the overall plot and flow. if you’d like me to post the sex scenes as one shots lmk and I’ll get on it! Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated :)
taglist: @dazzlingsya @oopstoshi @neolovely @hopefulchick @thysrs @oimqrks @lydinews @xiaomeilovespizza @got-sum-badhabits @inbluehour @shiningnono @soonnypeach @onlyrosyjohnny @reader221 @matchahyuck @9763vill @svntdream @johnbananaa-blogg @multifandombtvhh @jeonwonuniverse @justineasian
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ryuryuryuyurboat · 4 months
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'tis the season
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synopsis: got the chills? no worries, pull your hand close to the fire!
genre: fluff
characters: kazuha, neuvillette, wanderer, wriothesley, xiao x gn! reader (separately)
warnings: reader referred to in 2nd person, implied romantic rs but can be read platonically
a/n: hihi @dernier-mystere!! i'm your backup secret santa for @2023gisecretsanta's secret santa event! it is way past christmas, so take this as a new year's gift instead! may this year bring you much joy, and hopefully this gift brings you some warmth in this winter :)) || likes, reblogs and comments highly appreciated!!
©2024 ryuryuryuyurboat. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.
masterlist
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ah, yes. winter, the notorious hit-or-miss season. while there may be those who love the cold weather, the harsh bite of the blizzards and howling winds in the snowstorms may prove to be too daunting for even the most seasoned warriors in the icy cold. in times like this, what better way is there to wait out the piercing tempest than spending some time holed up with your favourite people?
kazuha smiles a kind smile at you, offering a hand to you. my dove, he calls, won’t you join me by the window? the cold has fogged up the glass of the windowpane, yet you still sit together on the edge of the bed– he gently nudges your head to rest on his shoulder as you listen to the pitter-patter of the snow outside, its gentle rhythm lulling you to sleep. what beautiful scenery, you hear him whisper, but his gaze is fixed on you all the while. “i love when it snows. the world falls completely silent, and we can sleep undisturbed.”
neuvillette, completely absorbed in his paperwork, doesn’t even realise it’s snowing till he shivers when he feels your icy touch on both sides of his neck. the nerve. well, guess it’s a sign for him to take a break! he lets you drag him into the kitchen, where it’s warmer, and watches as you put the pots on the stove. what’re you doing? he asks, and nearly falters at your excited grin as you tell him you’d been wanting to make hot cocoa and share it with him. maybe those documents can wait, he thinks, as he opens his mouth to give the only suggestion on his mind. “snow, in fact, is one of water’s natural self-cleansing mechanisms. but human activity tends to reduce snow’s purity, so do not consume it.”
never tell the wanderer you feel cold. the only reply you’ll get is “well, damn, y/n, i can’t control the weather!” quite the royal treatment. but when you turn away to rub your hands together for some warmth, your nose red from the cold, you feel a comforting weight rest on your shoulders as he grumbles something about “not wanting to deal with a coughing and sneezing you”, and he offers you his wide hat as extra protection from the chilling wind. “i have no need for warmth. save me the trouble and take care of yourself, will you?”
winter with wriothesley, simply put, is warm. it’s homely. with him, it doesn’t matter whether you’re in the comfort of your own home, or if you’re far from your usual lodging — all it takes is the shrill whistling of a kettle a certain someone set on the stove, followed by the gurgling of the water as it’s poured into two patiently waiting mugs, and finally, he pushes a warm mug into your trembling hands. how he managed to find and brew tea that smells exactly like a chocolatey beverage you’re all too familiar with is beyond you. any questions that may have reached your lips are quickly washed away as he clinks his mug with yours and you fight the temptation to down the still-steaming liquid in one go. “cheers, and may the biting frost be melted away by this drink.”
cuddling with xiao? the demon conqueror? the karmic debt-ridden guardian yaksha? why, perish that thought at once! …although, if it keeps you warm, maybe he’ll make an exception. just this once. maybe he’ll entertain your suggestion of building a blanket fort, and maybe he’ll grab the thickest one to drape over you both as you share a bowl of hot soup. the howling wind rattles the windows– he looks out, at the snow falling onto the ground, then back at you. “maybe we can go out soon. the snow looks thick enough to eat.”
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taglist: @yinyinggie @lynyluvr @kazemiya @meidnightrain @https-furina (send ask to be added to taglist!)
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rosiesmuts · 1 year
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Jingle All the Way
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BLACKPINK Lisa 1,600 words
A/N: Blame @friskyriskywhisky​ for this by sending me this as an ask. Quickie, no edits
"Hi Oppa! Long time no fuck!" 
A pleased smile breaks across your face. Lisa emerges from her bedroom, and granted your Christmas wish--watching her dance in that outfit at the concert drove you wild. 
"I've missed that ass Lisa. It's been way too long."
"Oh? You mean this little ol thing?"
Lisa turns around, twerking her way over to the couch, the metal plates jingling all the way. She's right in front of you, untying a couple pieces of string. Her hips continue to twerk until each piece of clothing falls off her body, the sound of crashing metal hits the floor.
Her hips are unstoppable, her back turned to you, sliding the underside of your cock in between her cheeks.
"This is fun and all, but it's been WAY too long Oppa. We both know why we're here."
She reaches behind, lathering your cock in slick lubrication while two of your fingers do the same to her puckering hole. The prep work now completed, her right hand holding the base of your shaft while your two hands are spreading apart her cheeks. Her moans of pleasure and pain ring into your ears the moment your head breaches her tight hole. 
"Oppa, did you somehow get bigger?!" Lisa pauses, catching her breath.
"It's just your imagination Lisa." A quick slap of her ass is all the motivation she needs.
Lisa bites her lip, lowering her body more and more–tears rolling down her face with every additional inch she takes in. Finally all the way down, she starts slowly making circular motions with her hips.
"Let me get used to this thing again."
Two minutes go by, then Lisa braces herself. She starts off slow, picking up speed with each successive bounce. You grit your teeth, simply along for the ride, Lisa using you for her pleasure.
Lisa is clearly enjoying herself, two months of your cock separated from her most precious hole was definitely too long. Her asshole is now fully adjusted to your length, Lisa humming the tune to her song.
"BOUNCIN BOUNCIN ON MY ASS TONIGHT!" Lisa belts out as she gets to that part of the song in her head, even having the energy to giggle at her own silly ad-lib.
The same story can't be said for you–the tight squeeze of her constricting muscles as she bounces up and down causes a groan to leave your mouth. Your hands grip her waist, trail around to her tight midriff, then slowly inch their way up–taking in the sensation of her smooth skin along the way. Finally reaching their destination, her adorable flat chest, you use two fingers on each hand to harshly pinch and pull at her nipples.
She screams out and moans, this reaction laughably predictable, Lisa's brain always translating pain into pleasure.
"Don't think I forgot what you did to me on your birthday, Oppa." Lisa threatens, purposely flexing her muscles, her asshole now squeezing you tighter than you thought was even possible.
"Ah! Okay stop! I'm sorry!"
Lisa laughs at your pathetic begging. She bounces up to feet, a slight feeling of desperation washes over you when your cock leaves the comfort of her tight asshole. You didn't mean for her to literally stop, but that desperation is quickly washed away when she bends over the couch.
"My legs are getting tired. It's your turn to fuck me Oppa." 
A needed break for another application of lubrication and you find yourself behind Lisa, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. "Are you ready?" Lisa silently nods and you're off to the races. Your thrusts start off strong, going in and out without needing to worry if she could take you all in.
Lisa is crying in pleasure, but still occasionally slips in comical dirty phrases trying to make you laugh. "... Pound my ass like it owes you money." being the most memorable. This is what makes fucking Lisa so enjoyable. She doesn't take herself too seriously, and she knows exactly what she wants–in her case, it's always your cock stuffed deep inside her ass. 
Lisa's body bends forward, burying her face even deeper into the cushions; perking her ass up even higher. Your length is able to poke and prod even deeper than ever, her moans now muffled by pillows. Noticing her right hand making circular motions against her clit, your thrusts maintain the same tempo, knowing this was her sweet spot. 
Her entire upper body tenses up, her left leg starts to quiver. A yank of her shoulder in an attempt to hear her cum is proven to be the correct choice, "You fuck me like a god oppa!" Lisa cries out as her orgasm flows throughout her body. Your thrusts slow down, not wanting to overwhelm her, but not stopping, still in pursuit of your own release.
"Let me go back on top. It's been too long since the last time I've been fucked like this. I need to be in control." 
Another needed lube break, and despite being exhausted, Lisa is never one to be a greedy lover. She's back in control, happily bouncing up and down, doing her favorite activity. 
Lisa was supposed to be doing this for your sake, but she couldn't control herself. You've seen it enough times to recognize the patterns–her breath becomes labored in a certain pattern, she stops her signature dirty talk and just simply moans. You can tell she's trying to hold it in, trying to consider your needs before hers. You appreciate the gesture, but seeing her cum is quickly becoming one of your favorite past times.
Your hand wraps around, middle and ring finger burying deep inside while your thumb circles her sensitive clit. The pleasure is too intense, Lisa stops bouncing and simply melts into your body. You take over, thrusting your cock upwards into her ass while your hand fiddles around in the front–Lisa is quickly overwhelmed, feeling pleasure from both ends.
"It's okay Lisa, just let go, cum for me." Just the slightest suggestion is all it takes. She releases her pent up orgasm, this one more intense than the last, her entire body tensing up. This also included her ass, the tight squeeze meant you're soon to follow her lead. Lisa feels the twitch of your dick, "Just do it inside." she's barely able to whisper it out. Those were wasted words, you never had plans to finish elsewhere, immediately succumbing to the grip of her ass, making no attempt to hold back.
Lisa feels at least five different spurts of thick hot cum filling up her ass, lightly moaning at each one. Lisa is beyond satisfied, remaining leaned back into your chest; your cock left deep in her ass.
"Can you still go?" Lisa asks you sweetly in between her heaving breath.
"I can still go if you can. Are you sure though? You look exhausted."
Lisa surprisingly shakes her head and picks up her phone from the side table to send out a text. Not even 10 seconds later, a knock is heard on the door. Lisa gets up, your cock finally leaving the warm comfort of her ass, making no effort to get dressed, or more importantly, to stop the stream of cum dripping onto the marble floor.
After answering the door, she returns to the couch, but she's not alone. "I heard this living sex doll talked you into fucking her while we were away." Lisa has one hand wrapped around a leash, leading in another person on the other end. Somi stands next to Lisa, her completely nude body glistening with a thick layer of oil, wearing only a collar around her neck that reads ‘Free Use.’ 
“What are you, Somi?” Lisa asks, her voice laced with pink venom.
“A free use cum dump for Oppa.”
"Good girl, now go ahead, show him what I taught you." Lisa harshly smacks Somi's ass.
"Do you want to fuck my ass, Oppa? Don’t worry - I can take it!” tilting her head, attempting to imitate the signature sickeningly cute aegyo voice of Lisa. 
Lisa claps and cheers at the eerily similar impersonation. 
Lisa maneuvers behind Somi, using both hands to cup and fondle Somi’s chest. “God these fucking tits are amazing.” Lisa mindlessly kneads the heavy mounds while looking at you. “I don’t blame you–feeling these in my hands makes me wanna fuck her too. What do you say, Oppa? I have some toys so I can test the limits of this free use whore with you."
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pjoxreader · 10 months
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Jason/Reyna/Percy with a deaf/hoh significant other?
Deaf/Hard Of Hearing Reader
Jason Grace
-Jason has a hard time learning sign language, but it isn’t for lack of trying. He tries to learn from books and such but it isn’t exactly easy, it’s hard to see how the hands move through just pictures.
-It’s not like he can look up youtube videos on it since phones are just a beacon to monsters. You can’t help but laugh every time you see Jason come over sheepishly holding an ASL book when he’s having trouble with a sign.
-The first thing Jason learns when you start to date is how to sign I love you. You can’t deny it was cute watching him but he ends up doing the signs for ‘I, love, you’ separately. Which was fine in itself but there was an easier way to sign that.
-He still has a lot to learn, and you can’t help but giggle at that and show him the easier way to sign it. All he had to do was put the middle finger and ring finger down, then face your palm to the person you’re doing the sign too. -You really love watching Jason teaching the other seven everything they need to know about sign language, so they can communicate easier with you. He really wants nothing more than for his friends to be close with you too.
-He loves signing ‘I love you’ during things like training or if you’re at dinner stuck at different tables. He easily falls in love with the language just as much as he fell for you.
Reyna Ramírez-Arellano
-Reyna would have already known some basic sign language, it’s the perfect thing to learn for a quest. Being able to work with your questmate on a plan without the worry of being overheard.
-That being said, she doesn’t know basic conversational signs. But as she already had the basic grammar and such down already it doesn’t take much effort for her to learn the rest.
-She learns **fast** though, and soon enough in her debriefs to camp she signs the entire speech too of what the plans for the day were. Even when you’re not there you find she’s signing anyway to keep up the practice.  
-She becomes a natural in no time, she can easily keep up with reading your signs and signing at a speed to match your own. She never once bothered writing down what she needed to say for a conversation sense she put all the effort into learning ASL.
-You two can easily plan a date night without anyone knowing, Frank was working on running drills while Reyna was working on planning a date with you. She was doing all of that while translating what Frank was saying as well.
-While explaining the rules of the war games to the newer campers you show the sign for ‘I love you’. Much to everyone's surprise she cracks a smile before clearing her throat and working on explaining again.
Percy Jackson
-How you first met is Percy asking you how to sign curse words. You were confused at first but do agree to teach him. However you soon enough find out why he wanted to learn that. -After a long quest with him you make your way to Olympus, to your surprise Percy then signs ‘dick’ to Zeus while making it seem he was just scratching his nose. You had to do everything in your power to not bust out laughing.
-Percy had the smuggest grin after that, it seemed he wanted to do that for a while… He starts to learn more curse words but then it starts to branch out to more normal signs. He struggled with the structure of wording sometimes but you’d be there to correct him.
-He did end up mostly signing curse words though. Whether it be to monsters, gods, or other campers that deserve it. But you couldn’t really blame him, he was from New York after all…
-The rest of the camp started to learn sign language because of him, well mostly curse words since Chiron didn’t fully understand all of them. It was the best way to insult each other without getting in trouble. 
-Clarisse was easily the second most person who knew the most amount of curses in ASL, since Percy and she would go at it. You have to admit this is not how you expected to be teaching people ASL but at least they were learning?
~Masterlist & Rules~
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yuurei20 · 2 months
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Translation from Twisted Wonderland the 2nd novel: Spelldrive Practice Match (pt 4/5)
"As Cater says, the unity of the Savanaclaw students—led by Leona—is overwhelming. With their own hastily assembled team, there is no way for them to compete.
Especially the inexperienced first-year students, who have barely ever played before.
Grim and the others have simply worn themselves out chasing after a disc that is always just above their heads. Deftly guided to where they would be at their weakest, they would find themselves isolated from their own team before they realized it.
And, once separated, there was nothing they could do but take the torment.
Spelldrive played by Leona’s team is like a hunt: efficient, elegant, and merciless. The Savanaclaw players surround their prey, toy with their targets, and laugh.
As the sun begins to set, the lights that illuminate the field cast a stark, shimmering glow on the dismal scene. Once again Grim makes rough contact with an opposing player, his small body rolling along the ground like dust blown by the wind.
‘Grim!’ Yuuya shouts toward the field. ‘Hey, are you okay?’
‘There's no way I'm okay!’ Grim yells back. He seems to still have some energy left, but his confidence from before the match is gone.
‘I can't take this anymore...Yuu, switch with me.’
‘Hey, you were the one who was the most pumped up about this…’ Ace struggles to stand but nearly topples, steadied by a hand that reaches out to save him from falling.
Just as Yuuya moves to step out onto the field, Ruggie interjects.
'Hey now. It's not cool for outsiders to interfere with a match.’
‘But everyone is so beaten up…!’
‘And?’ Ruggie mockingly tilts his head. ‘If you're serious about Spelldrive, you're gonna get worn out. Besides, injuries are part of any sport.’
‘B-but, when Grim got knocked into just now…that looked like it was on purpose.’
‘Huh? You tryin’ to say that that was our fault? I'd appreciate it if you didn't go making baseless accusations.’
Despite Yuuya gathering all his courage for this confrontation, Ruggie brushes him off without a care.
The player who ran into Grim gives a bark of laughter. ‘Yeah, that’s right!’
‘We’re practicing our tails off over here, where’s the gratitude?’
‘Damn it. They’re mocking us.’ Deuce spits brownish saliva onto the ground. He may have cut the inside of his mouth when he fell. He wipes his mouth with the back of his fist, which Cater then grabs, to stop him.
’Picking a fight would be playing right into their hands. Everyone—instead of following the disc, let’s stick to our teammates and keep ourselves safe.’
‘That’s a good strategy. If you can pull it off.,’ Leona chuckles, looking down at the frustrated group.
‘On your feet, herbivores. This barely counts as practice for our team. We need you to at least stand in as targets for the disc.’
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hongjoongsart · 2 months
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Teaser - Cold Hands | Song Mingi
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⛸️ IMPORTANT: Re-upload from my deleted account! (hongjoongspoetry)
⛸️ Summary: You and Mingi have been going at each other's neck for the past six months. The latter finds big enjoyment in spurring you on while you just want to make it to graduating without being charged with murder. Things take an interesting turn when your crush and fellow figure skater shows interest in you resulting in a fistfight, a confession and heartbreak.
⛸️ Pairing(s): Hockey Player!Mingi x Figure Skater!Reader, Figure Skater!Hyunjin x Figure Skater!Reader
⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College/University AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers, angst, fluff, smut...
⛸️ Warnings/Tags: f!reader, no use of Y/N, swearing, a handful of movie references...
⛸️ Wordcount: Estimated 15K-20K
⛸️ Author's note: Sneakpeak for my Hockey Player!Mingi x Figure Skater!Reader oneshot. It's the first out of eight parts of my upcoming oneshot series; Puzzle Pieces.
AO3 Click on me!
This is all fiction and not meant to represent Mingi in any way or form.
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The sound of blades against ice and the smell of a freezer minus the food brought you great comfort, and it continued to do so for a century and half. The ice rink was your second home – not school or your grandma’s house – heck, you could manoeuvre the place better than your own house.
Abel Korzeniowski’s Charms blasted pleasantly through the speakers in the hall. You stood in the middle of the rink with your hands raised and knees slightly bent, while facing forward. The arena was completely empty which wasn’t anything weird considering it was six AM on a Monday. You slowly moved across the ice in sync to the music, leaving all your thoughts and worries in the parking lot outside. There was only you and the ice. 
As the music gradually picked up its pace you began doing light spins and jumps. You imagined the arena to be packed with people, excited eyes following your elegant figure and cheers going off like cannons after every stunt. 
In tune to the music reaching its turning point you propelled yourself up and spun in the air only for the melody to be abruptly cut off. A short static echoed in the hall as the AUX was rather harshly unplugged from your phone, resulting in you losing your footing and falling on the ice. 
“Majestic as always Swan Princess, but I’ll have to deduct ten points for that eye captivating fall.” 
Chorus of laughter and gloves pounding against the plexiglas averted your attention for a split second and the picture of an audience watching wasn’t much of an imagination as the whole hockey team stood by the entrance of the rink. 
With a curse, you got up and threw a glare towards the music booth planted between the penalty boxes. Scratch that, you threw a glare at the guy inside the music booth.
If there was anything figure skating couldn’t help you with it was Song Mingi, left winger of Red Tigers and the biggest douchebag known to man-kind.
The man-kind in question was you.
“Piss off, Song. The rink is booked until 10 am.”
The large man leaned into the mic, a smug grin on his stupidly handsome face, “Can’t do sweetheart. We have an upcoming match against the Blue Wolves so we need to practice.”
In three slides you reached the worn out glas separating you two. 
“Listen here asshole,” you breathed out a cloud of fog, “I don’t care what you have or when you have it, the rink is booked so take your little pack of chihuahuas and fuck off!” 
Mingi made himself comfortable on the chair, hands intertwined behind his neck and long legs perched up on the desk. He was not going anywhere unless it was on that ice.
“I guess we’ll just have to wait til you’re done.”
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axel-skz · 11 months
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Though I reach out my hand, there’s nobody to hold it.
Part 1
A/N: I will not lie, I cried writing this. All up in my feels and whatever. Anywho, you will hate me now… for hurting you with how this ends… and I would apologise but I’m not sorry 😆 not everything gets better, not everything ends well. Some people are genuinely temporary. Enjoy them while they last but don’t hold onto them because they will leave. One way or another. Now, song roulette time, we got sunshine. I can’t say I have listened to it much but I googled the lyric translation and bro, thats so cute 😭.
Chan messed up too much… what happens now?
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You and chan had been living separately for a while. It had been so long since you talked to each oher. Chan tried calling a couple times but even he knew there was no way of redeeming himself. There wasn’t really much to say now. The trust was gone.
The other guys seemed to find out very soon that you guys had a fight because it only took 2 days for them to start spamming you with apologies.
You couldn’t describe the amount of pain you were in. Not only to find out what chan had actually thought of you all this time… but the boys too?
They had warned him of you? How the hell were you supposed to come back from that? What was so bad about you that they all had wanted you gone so bad? That they needed to pass out warnings?
Now they were apologising. Whats the point of apologising now? What could they even say? ‘Sorry, you suck and we noticed’ or ‘we want the best for chan and… you arent even close.’
You had tried your best with them. You cared for them so much and to your face, they had been caring too. There were times where you felt you had no one but them. They were so important to you. It ripped everything in you to shreds even thinking about how wrong you were.
You couldn’t afford to take time off work, you had used your savings to get a new apartment. It was a miserable existence. Every day blurred together and any time you were home, you wouldn’t leave your bed. Any holidays or days off were spent getting all the tears out so that when you did re-enter civilisation the next day, you wouldn’t fall apart.
Days passed, then weeks, then months… you slowly got better, life started to move again. Little things made you happy again… but for a little while, smiling about those little things made you cry. He would call you immature in your head. Again and again until you could hear ringing in your ears and the tears wouldn’t stop.
You had very little confidence in yourself growing up. It was a hard thing to have and you had been doing so great. Self love. What a freeing concept?
It was all gone for a while. Not a speck of it in sight.
Until slowly, you go it back. Slowly, you appreciated yourself. Started liking how simple things made you light up. You got in touch with old friends and your life started to feel whole again. Everything was going and the pain didn’t hurt so bad. It was disappearing.
But that all came crashing down one night when someone was knocking on your door. You opened it, expecting your pizza but there in all his glory, stood a very drunk Chan with an even more drunk Felix.
Tweedle dee and tweedle can’t-stand-on-his-own were singing tik tok songs. They looked surprised when you opened the door. As if they had no clue you lived there.
‘Hey!? How are you??? It’s been ages’ Chan said as they both sauntered in.
‘What are you doing-‘
‘WOW! I like your new place. You should invite me over for a sleep over sometime,’ Felix interupted.
You rolled your eyes as you looked out into the hallway, making sure there weren’t any more drunk stray kids dawdling around. (I’m hilarious, I know)
You closed your door and got them a water bottle each as you sat them down in the living room. There wasn’t much room to talk to them because they kept bouncing gibberish off each other. When your food arrived, you gave them two slices each and they were basically knocked out after that.
You grabbed a blanket and put it over them. This gave you a chance to really get a look at Chan. He never got drunk. He didn’t like drinking. This was out of the ordinary for him. That and the fact that of course he looked even more tired then usual. As you looked at Felix, you noticed he looked tired too.
You couldn’t understand why you were being so nice. You had no reason to be. When they eventually woke up on a sidewalk somewhere, after their drunken adventures, they would have no reason to even think of you. Let alone blame you for not helping.
But here they are, fed and passed out on your sofa. You couldn’t stand to look at them anymore so you got up and went to your room. It was harder to sleep knowing they were in the next room. He was in the next room.
But eventually, with a few tears and a hint of heartbreak, you fell asleep.
You were woken up by whispering, loud whispering. If you wanna whisper, why do it loudly? Does that not defeat the point of whispering?
You opened your eyes to Chan and Felix talking to each other. When they both looked back at you and saw you awake, they both jumped. Then started apologising profusely for having come here.
‘What are you doing in here?’ You asked groggily.
‘We um-we made you breakfast,’ Felix replied.
‘We were gonna wake you up but you looked so peaceful…’ Chan added on.
‘You didn’t need to do that,’ you said as you fidgeted with your hands.
‘We did! You had no reason to look after us last night but you did… we really appreciate it,’ Chan said.
‘It’s nothing. Look, I have to go to work so you guys should probably leave now.’
They didn’t think too much and apologised again as they started getting ready to leave. Just before they left though, Chan asked if he could talk to you… alone. You were hesitent and honestly? The mere idea instilled a world of dread in you. But he kept insisting on atleast talking once so you gave him a chance. You guys decided to meet at your apartment again the next day. You would have gone to his but… that place held every memory of you both together.
The next 24 hours were uncomfortable and you couldn’t get anything else done.
The agonising time seemed to come to an end finally though as you heard the knock on your door. You stopped and looked in a mirror to make sure you looked okay. Then you felt stupid for doing that because he didn’t deserve your effort.
You opened the door and really looked at him today. He looked good… more then good… he was wearing your favourite shirt.
You looked away as you let him in. Not even registering that he had said hello to you.
He went over to the sofa and sat down as you sat in an armchair. There was an awkward silence that you definitely did not plan to break. So inevitably, he did.
‘I don’t want to beat around the bush… I want to say I’m sorry… I was terrible for what I said…’
It angered you that this was what he thought was wrong… what he said? Really?
‘What? That all? Not sorry for lying about liking me the whole time? Not sorry for knowing there was something ‘wierd’ about me but still stringing me along? I’m too immature and self involved for you but you’re sorry for what? Letting me know? Letting it slip how you really felt?’
‘I was stupid for saying that because I didn’t mean it… I might’ve had those thoughts come to me in the first week of knowing you but it was stupid and I never actually thought you were those things… what you did hurt me and I… wanted to hurt you back…’
‘I get that… but actually… I don’t. I know what I did was wrong too and I’m sorry but… what you did… there isn’t any way to undo that. I can’t trust you anymore. And even if I could magically get over what you thought, the fact that the other guys told you not to be with me? I can’t even begin to unpack that. I can’t be around any of you anymore. I would have to hate myself to subject myself to that.’
He didn’t know what to say as he looked down. Tears welling up in his eyes as he said sorry again for the millionth time.
But you both sat there, in the silence, knowing these were your last moments together… this was it…
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A/N: 😈
This is you rn:
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This is me:
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I’m sorry 😂 it’s ok though, I just got rejected by my cat so I’m sad too.
The Hyunjin story part 2 hopefully is next to be published. I’m having a hard time writing it but we’ll get there
Please reblog (with hashtags if you can pls) and like and gimme feedback. I’ll see you next time :)
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resowrites · 11 months
Text
Rolo - oneshot.
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Summary: Henry takes learning about his wife’s pregnancy a tad too far…
Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC
Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, language, dialogue heavy, graphic descriptions of labour/childbirth, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.
WC: 3002
A/N: Remember, this is pure fiction (as in completely made up) and not in any way meant to reflect reality. My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!
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Rolo - oneshot.
"Oh my God, this reads like Stephen King…"
"Will you please be quiet? I'm trying to watch tv—"
"Oh stop, you can watch the A-Team any time. Now listen to this, a 'show' is the act of the mucus plug that seals the opening of the cervix, falling out as either a blob or smaller pieces of pinkish jelly—" she threw the spoon she was holding back into her pot of yoghurt.
"Henry shut up, I don't want to hear this while I'm eating!"
"It looks a bit like that apparently," he pointed to the pot in her hand, much to her chagrin. "It signals the start of the cervix beginning to soften and thin ready for labour, though this can take anywhere from an hour to several days to begin…" She hoped Henry was finally finished and tentatively took another mouthful of yoghurt. "Sometimes the colour of the plug is red or brown—"
"Henry, stop it!"
"What? I'm just trying to share with you the miracle of creation!"
"No you're not, you're being an annoying little shit because I had the last yoghurt and you don't want to let me enjoy it!"
"Don't be ridiculous, we've got our first scan coming up soon, don't you want me to be prepared?"
"Henry, it's not a fucking quiz, and anyway, it's me who has to answer any questions, not you!"
"Well, excuse me for wanting to be ready just in case, God most women would give anything for their husbands to be this involved!"
"Henry, why is it you need to know about the 'show,' or anything else that happens at that point in labour? You're not the one delivering the baby!"
"Well, who knows? You could go into labour on the bathroom floor and the paramedics might not make it to the house in time, we are a bit out in the sticks here."
"That won't happen, most women have to be induced—"
"What does that mean? Hang on let me look it up," he flipped further ahead in the baby book. "Ah, induction means to bring on the start of labour artificially. Before this is done, a membrane sweep is performed first. This involves a midwife or doctor sweeping their finger around the cervix via internal examination. This should help separate the amniotic sac surrounding the baby from the cervix—"
"Henry, I'm really getting annoyed with you now!"
"What? This is fascinating! To continue—" she gritted her teeth.
"If labour does not then occur, an induction will be offered next. This procedure involves the insertion of a pessary or gel into the vagina. If contractions do not begin after six hours, a further tablet or dose of gel will be used. Please be aware that induced labour is usually more painful and can require assistance via ventouse or forceps. What the hell's a ventouse?"
"Henry, I'm giving you until the count of five to put that book down. One—"
"A ventouse is a vacuum cup attached to your baby's head via suction—"
"Two—"
"It's pulled gently by the midwife or doctor to aid in delivery—"
"Three—"
"However, this method comes with several risks including a third or fourth-degree vaginal tear. This means the wall of the anus is ruptured—"
"Four, five! That's it, give me that right now!" She snatched the book from Henry's hands and chucked it aside.
"What the hell did you do that for?! We were just getting to an interesting bit!"
"Really, you find the instance of vaginal tearing even remotely interesting, do you?"
"Look, I have to learn about all of this otherwise I'll be clueless to help!"
"Is that right? And what help do you expect to be?"
"… Well, I can tell the doctor what it looked like before, it'll help him put everything back in place!"
"That's it, I'm going downstairs—"
"No, wait! I'm only joking, jeez lighten up will ya? I'm just trying to have a bit of fun!"
"Yeah, but it's easy to do that when you're not the one who has to give birth!"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I'm already shit scared about all of this without you telling me my rectum could be torn asunder!"
"Oh for God's sake, that isn't going to happen!"
"Oh yeah? How do you know?"
"Because I won't let anything like that happen, alright?"
"Henry you're not going to have that much control over the situation, neither of us will!"
"Well maybe not but at least I'll be there to advocate for you, and I'll make sure everything is done correctly. That's why I have to learn about each stage of delivery."
"Well, can you at least stop reading aloud? I honestly don't want to hear all the grisly details thanks very much!"
"It's not grisly! It's a beautiful process—"
"Henry, birth may be many things but it's hardly beautiful—" he ignored her and continued.
"Just think, you'll be able to squeeze a whole person out of an opening that's only a few centimetres wide! Well, actually your cervix has to be ten centimetres dilated before you can safely start to push."
"Oh, God help me…"
"What? I can't wait! Being able to watch my baby being born will be the happiest day of my life! Even if it also means having to watch my favourite place in the whole world become like a Stretch Armstrong…"
"What do you mean? You're not going at the goal end, are you?!" Henry snorted.
"Well of course! Otherwise, how do I know that it's actually ours and not one that they've swapped?"
"Henry, trust me, no one is going to take our baby. So you're really going to watch the whole thing? Even as I start to crown?"
"Wait, what does that mean?" He tried to reach for the baby book which was still resting at the bottom of the bed.
"Oh no you don't, I'm not hearing any more blow-by-blows of birth thanks very much."
"Fine! I'll just look it up on my phone."
"Yeah, you might not want to do that—" suddenly Henry shrieked aloud.
"Jesus bloody Christ! Did it have to show me pictures? God, it's like she's being ripped in half!" He held his phone up close to her face.
"I did tell you not to look it up! Anyway, you wanted to see it, are you still so keen now on watching it live?"
"Well, I had no idea it was that graphic! Christ, I hope I don't end up with performance issues…" Henry looked down plaintively at his crotch.
"Oh, typical, you have to make it all about you. Did you honestly think the baby just appeared? Like all I had to do was sneeze and out it popped?"
"Well no, but now I must admit I'm getting scared as well - me and all of my brothers were big babies, I don't think it's gunna be that easy…"
"Oh well great, thanks for warning me."
"What? I'm just being honest! You could end up having one of those record babies, you know like how you see on the internet?" She breathed in hard.
"Henry, if you do that to me I will actually never forgive you—"
"Well, it's not my fault! Weren't you a big baby as well?"
"No I bloody well wasn't!"
"Maybe that'll balance it out then, besides it's not like they can't stitch you up afterward!"
"Oh God, kill me…"
"What? I can always get you a little rubber ring to sit on!"
"Henry, if you don't button it right now—"
"They use stitches darling, buttons would hardly be appropriate—"
"Carry on sonny boy and you're gunna be the one who needs stitches!"
"Alright, alright. God, I was only trying to be helpful!"
"No you weren't, you were just trying to scare me!"
"No I wasn't, I would never do that! As I said, everything will be alright—"
"You don't know that! This will be my first time giving birth, literally anything could happen..."
"Well, I'm sure there are lots of things we can do to prepare. Just let me have my handy guide back—"
"No, you're not reading any more baby books!"
"Fine, I'll just consult Google then instead. Let's see, how do you prevent tearing during pregnancy?" She took a deep breath. "Ah, see here it says an ep-is-iot-omy, a cut made in the perineum, is performed to make the vaginal opening wider where necessary—" 
"Right, I’m putting on my headphones—" 
"This cut is typically made diagonally… wait so they don't just cut downwards? You know so it's like one big hole?" 
"Oh bollocks, they're out of power!" 
"Are you listening to me?!" 
"I'm trying not to, no." 
"Well you'll be glad to know there's also such thing as 'perineal massage—'"
"Oh, well that's a relief…" 
"This can be performed from thirty-five weeks onwards as a useful tool to help prevent tears. It even says I can perform the massage for you—"
"Yeah, no thanks."
"Well, what do you expect me to do then? Just wait outside and leave you in the delivery room all scared and alone?"
"You can stay here, in fact. I'm not sure I even want you in the building anymore…"
"Oh now come on, you know I was only trying to make you laugh talking about all this stuff!"
"Henry I don't need a bloody comedian, I need a birth partner who's gunna take it seriously and actually be useful—"
"Yeah and that's why I'll be right by your side, cheering you on, and you can scream and yell and hit me as many times as you want."
"Can I do that right now?" He gave her a mischievous smile.
"I tell you what, why don't we change the subject and try some birth positions instead? Look, you can even lay like this with your arse in the air," Henry kneeled on both legs and let his face fall into the pillow. "Actually, on second thoughts, it was this position that got you into this situation..." She choked on her cup of tea. "What about like this then," he jumped out of the bed and propped one leg up on the edge of it. "It's called the 'leg-up lunge,' really helps open up the pelvis apparently and relieve back pain," Henry looked over to see her holding her face in her hands. "Or you can just do this," he rolled onto his back and pulled back each leg with his hands. In doing so, he landed on the remote and accidentally changed the channel.
"Oh for fuck sake, Henry! It was just getting to a juicy bit!" 
"Tell me about it, I need you to check how far along I am—" 
"Henry, I really am starting to lose my patience!" She leaned between Henry's legs and tried to manoeuvre him off of the remote. 
"Hey, it's me who's meant to push, not you!" 
"Will you bloody stop it?! And move out of the sodding way—" she carried on rooting around, not seeing the bottle of water he'd quickly grabbed from the bedside table. Seconds later, a jet of water hit her face.
"OH NO, I THINK MY WATER JUST BROKE!!!"
 "W-WHAT THE FUCK!!!" She coughed and spluttered while Henry collapsed into a pile of giggles. "That's it, I'm done." She scooched off the bed and headed for the door.
"WAIT, wait!" She stopped and turned round to face him. "You've still got water on your face—" she tried to storm off, only for Henry to catch her by the wrist. 
"Get off me, you arch idiot. I'm so angry with you I could scream!"
"Oh now come on! I was just trying to give us a bit of practice. I don't want you to think you've wet yourself—"
"HENRY, THAT IS ENOUGH!"
"Mmmm... I love it when you get mad. Come on, let's have some fun—" he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 
"You must be joking!"
"Well, what’s the harm? I've already knocked you up!"
"Henry—"
"And don't think I haven't noticed how big they're getting…" Henry pointed towards her chest.
"Listen to me you little turd, they're not the only things getting bigger. Very soon I'm going to be up to fifty pounds heavier, with an arse that could flatten even you - so don't piss me off!"
"... But I'll be able to hear you coming." 
"Right, that's it! I'm sleeping downstairs. Seeing as this is all just some big joke to you—"
"Whoa, hang on, that's absolutely not the case. I'm sorry, alright? I was just trying to make you less worried about giving birth. Honestly, I don't care if you scream, cry, puke, or even shit everywhere—" her nostrils flared. "Take it easy! Come on, let's get to bed, all this stress isn't good for the baby." She batted his hand away and folded her arms almost as soon as she was back in bed. "Okay, so you don't want to lie on your back. That's probably for the best seeing as the baby could then shoot across the room if you push too hard... I wonder if that's ever actually happened? Lemme see." She snatched the phone away.
"Henry, this is your last warning—"
"Fine, fine. Can we talk names then?"
"Oh, but we can never agree! Everything you like, I hate! Besides your mum used up most of the decent boy's names…"
"Well, let's think, what about Jack?"
"See, I like Jack but it runs into your surname because of the ‘k’ sound at the end. So it sounds like one long name, 'JackCavill.'"
"Okay, well what about Jake?"
"That's the same problem."
"Alright then, Jacob?"
"Nah."
"Caleb?"
"Nah."
"Callum?"
"Callum Cavill? Isn't that a bit of a mouthful?"
"Okay well, let's park boys' names for a minute and try out girls' names instead. What about Amelie?"
"Nah, I don't want too many syllables."
"Okay, Amy?"
"Mmm, no I don't want anything too cutesy."
"Ugh, what about Olivia then? That way she can be named after you—"
"Except my name's not actually Olivia is it?"
"Well, it's still a nice name! Why don't you come up with some instead of just criticizing me?"
"Actually, I'd rather just sit here and watch my programme in peace, seeing as how you've robbed me of that opportunity for the last half an hour!"
"But we've got to come up with a shortlist of names, otherwise, we'll struggle nearer the time!"
"Well, my sister said it's sometimes better to wait. Often you pick a name and then find that it doesn't actually suit the baby at all."
"... How about Hollie?"
"Hollie?"
"Yeah, I mean, she'll be born around Christmas time and it's a nice combination of both our names."
"Mmm… maybe."
"… And for a boy, we could always have Rudolph." She sighed and switched the tv off so she could turn over and go to sleep. 
"Hey, hang on, we're not done yet!"
"Henry, we've got months to decide and if it's okay with you, I'd like to get to sleep before I'm given any more reasons to have nightmares."
"Oh darling, there's really nothing to worry about. I mean, the chances of it having a conehead or a vestigial tail are actually very minor…"
"What the hell are you talking about now?!"
"Oh, didn't you know? When a baby is born its skull compresses so that it can squeeze its way out of the birth canal—"
"Okay, got it."
"But don't worry, it'll eventually round out in a few weeks—"
"That's good to know. Goodnight Henry."
"Wait! I haven't said goodnight to the baby!"
"Oh don't worry, they've been listening to you all evening and would now like some peace and quiet as well."
"Aww come on, roll back over so I can kiss them and you goodnight." She sighed and reluctantly turned onto her back. This was their new nightly routine and Henry wouldn't let her rest until he got to perform it. He scooted down slightly so he was level with her waist, and placed both hands gently on her stomach. He then lowered his head and spoke quietly.
"G'night bubba, Mummy and Daddy love you so, so much - only a few more weeks and we'll get to hear your heartbeat for the first time!"
"You know the lucky sod can't actually hear you just yet? It won't be able to until I'm at least eighteen weeks—"
"Will you please stop being such a spoilsport! And stop calling our baby 'it!' We at least need to come up with a placeholder name. Something sweet and memorable—"
"So that's a no to conehead then?" Henry clucked his tongue.
"Ignore her bubba, she's just cranky cos you're making her hormonal and retain water." She thumped him on the arm. "Ow! That hurt!"
"That wasn't me, that was my hormones…" Henry rolled his eyes. "And can you go get me some Rennies? I've got heartburn again."
"Hey, that's an idea, what about Rennie?"
"You want to name our baby after an anti-acid?"
"Well, can you come up with something better?" She considered it for a moment.
"How about Rolo? I mean that's the only thing I've been craving since I've been pregnant."
"Is it really a craving if you ate them lots before you were pregnant? And how come we can't name it after indigestion tablets but we can name it after your favourite chocolate?"
"Well, why not? I think Rolo's cute! It's about the size of one at the moment as well."
"Fine, although there's also the option of Henry Junior…" She gave him an annoyed look. "Alright, alright. Rolo it is. And don't worry, to me you'll always have a beautiful vagina—"
"Right, just for that, get your arse down those stairs and get me some Rolo's as well. Now, mister!"
"… Are you sure there's any left?" The look on her face made Henry shoot out of bed but not before he gave both her and her stomach a kiss.  
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286 notes · View notes
neteyamssyulang · 6 months
Text
Sixty-Nine
Day 14
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Pairing: Rotxo aged up x Fem metkayina reader
Summary: He was the good boy, the innocent boy. The one who did everything that was asked of him with no questions asked. Of course, there was a secret side to him that no one knew of.
Warnings: Dom Rotxo, Sub Reader, Sixty-Nine obvi, Fingering.
Word count: 1134
Translation(s): Marui -> Metkayina Home, Tawtute -> Human, Skxawng -> Idiot/Moron, ‘Ak -> Ow/Ouch, Nì’ul -> More, Rutxe -> Please, Sevin -> Pretty, Paskalin -> Sweet berry.
A/N: Not my best work but it’s decent.
Tags: @pandoraslxna @teyamsatan <3
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He was the good boy, the innocent boy. The one who did everything that was asked of him with no questions asked. Of course, there was a secret side to him that no one knew of.
You make your way through the village towards the Sully’s Marui, the last 6 months that they’ve been here have been, welllll, interesting.
The battle took place only two months ago where Neteyam had almost died, his mother Neytiri and his father Jake Sully were enraged by their son almost dying that they went on a killing spree taking the lives from everyone on that demon ship.
The only one that got away was Quaritch, upon hearing that the tawtute, what’s his name again? Spider? Yeah. He saved him and thought no one would find out. What a skxawng.
He was banished from awa’altu, The only one who didn’t want him to go was Kiri but what he did was unforgivable. The family did their best to consol her about the situation but nothing ever worked.
Upon finally entering your greeted by Neteyam, Aonung, Rotxo, Kiri, Lo’ak and Tsireya. They wave and Neteyam gestures for you to sit down next to him.
“So, what are you all doing?” You ask while eyeing a strange alien thing in the middle of all of you. Lo’ak speaks up “We were about to play spin the bottle.”
“Spin the botle?” The foreign words rolls off your tongue and your confused face makes him laugh.
“It is an earth game our father said, it is supposed to be interesting” Neteyam speaks from beside you.
“Oh, ok” you watch as Lo’ak spins first landing on Tsireya. Aonung sends him a death glare to which Tsireya gently smacks his chest.
She crawls over to Lo’ak who scoops her up into his lap making her giggle. She then captures his lips with hers for a short brief kiss before being yanked off Lo’ak by Aonung. He still didn’t approve of the relationship.
“Aye chill bro” Lo’ak raises his hands in surrender, Tsireya takes her spot back next her brother. Next up is Kiri but she passed her turn so Neteyam was next.
He spinned the bottle and it landed on you. Your face goes red with blush as you turn to look at the man next to you.
Neteyam smiles before cupping your face and gently presses his lips against yours. A loud growl rumbles through Rotxo and he gets up leaving ignoring everyone calling for him to come back.
Once your lips are separated you quickly move to get up and run out the Marui leaving a confused Neteyam behind.
“Wow bro guess she didn’t like your kiss” Lo’ak laughs, Neteyam grabbed the bottle and threw it at his little brother’s face making him yelp in pain.
“Shut up you skxawng” Neteyam hissed.
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You eventually catch up to Rotxo who is now in his own Marui with his back facing to you. Cautiously you walk up to him placing your hand on his shoulder.
“Did you enjoy kissing him? Were you trying to make me jealous?” His eyes narrowing.
“I- this is what it’s about?” You scoff. “Your mad because I kissed Neteyam?”
Another growl rumbles through his chest as he grabs you by the hips pulling you closer to him “Your mine y/n.”
“These lips..” he ghosts over them before kissing you “Are mine.” His hands travel to your ass “This ass” he squeezes it making you moan softly “Is mine.” He drops down to his knees untying your loincloth letting it fall, “And this beautiful pussy” his fingers slide over your folds “Is mine.”
Shivers run down your spine as he unties his own loincloth throwing it somewhere before laying down on his sleeping mat. “Come, sit”
You walk over and begin to sit on his lap when he stops you “Not there paskalin.” Confused you look at him making him chuckle.
“Be a good girl and sit on my face.”
Gulping you obey getting back up before turning and lowering yourself onto his face, he groans seeing your pussy on full display.
You seem to be lowering yourself at a pace he doesn’t like so he gripped onto your thighs pulling you down onto his face immediately licking a fat stripe across your folds.
“Rotxo!..” moaning softly you lower your head so his now aching cock is mere inches from your face. Starting from the balls you lick him from there all the way up his thick shaft till you reach his tip.
Rotxo licked and sucked at your clit before inserting two of his fingers inside your drenched hole curling them.
He nips at the inside of your thigh with his fangs causing you to yelp “ ‘ak Rotxo!”
The teal man underneath you just chuckles, he kisses the spot he nipped at and trails kisses to your soaked cunt.
His fingers start pumping inside you as his mouth drew circles on your clit. “Nì’ul rutxe!..” you say breathlessly as you take him into your mouth.
Rotxo shudders feeling your warm mouth wrapped around him and bucks his hips making you take more of his cock in your mouth.
“That’s it sevin..” He moans sending vibrations through your pussy making you squirm feeling close to climaxing.
His fingers pick up their pace moving faster coaxing out squelching noises. You gagged around his cock as you felt him remove his fingers but replace them with his tongue dipping into your entrance.
He ate you as if you were his last meal, truth be told this is all he’s ever dreamed of. He may look like the innocent boy people think he is but he’s not, he’s wanted you so many times but didn’t think he stood a chance.
When he saw you kiss Neteyam that was his breaking point, Neteyam knew Rotxo liked you but he liked you aswell I mean cmon your beautiful.
Any man would be lucky enough if they had you as their mate, and Rotxo wanted to be that lucky one.
Your head bobbed up and down his cock as one of your hands reached to gently cup his balls in your hand.
His hips stutter feeling his orgasm approaching and knows your close too. Rotxo laps at your folds now and that’s all it took for you to cum.
He groans as his face gets coated by your juices and immediately afterwards cums in your mouth.
You swallow all his cum greedily before coming off him with a pop.
The man then gently lifted you off his face and onto the mat next to him.
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dollwrites · 1 year
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𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 — 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ fem!scout!reader, a whole bunch of angst that no one asked for/is probably poorly written, graphic depictions of death and suicide, graphic descriptions of blood and injury, pre-season 1, all characters featured are 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ originally posted on 08.15.2022 do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3
𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ tears don’t fall ( acoustic ) by bullet for my valentine
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you were the only one left.
blades broken, even the ones you’d clamored to liberate from your dead comrades.
gas tanks empty. every one.
and you were so tired; every muscle on fire. covered in blood ( most of which, thankfully, was not your own. ) and crumbling in the corner beneath the broken window, you breathe ragged. you’re much too exhausted to find the tears for your friends— you can hear it just outside, the sound of the ones that fell behind being devoured. you hold in your palm a single, fracture of a blade. you look down at it, seeing the reflection of a hopeless, young girl that’s too far from home staring back at you. you didn’t recognize that girl. it’d been much too long since you’d been that girl, but there she was.
you hated her. how weak and fragile she could be.
you hated that you couldn’t handle the unexpected horde by yourself, just like he could.
but mostly, you hated that you were separated from him.
Levi had protested heavily when Erwin proposed you lead your own squadron, even threatening to withdraw completely from the expedition with you, but you had been so hellbent on proving that you were ready, that Erwin could count on you and Levi could breathe easy knowing you had it under control, that you’d jumped at the opportunity.
and now, look where that had gotten you.
a massive, clumsy arm forces its way into the gap in the wall, waving wildly around trying to reach you, and you cower as close to the corner as you possibly could. luckily, you happen to be just out of the Titan’s grasp as long as you braced against the wall. your heart pounds against your rib cage.
you were safe for now, but even as you thought this, you could hear more gripping the walls of the weathered home you’d taken shelter in, wood splintering and rocks crumbling. in a matter of minutes, they would be plucking you from a pile of rubble.
“H—help…” you whisper to your own reflection, but you knew that you weren’t actually talking to her— not the frightened, little girl mirrored, but to Levi, who was probably miles away. much too far to reach you. “Please.” a pair of bowling ball eyes peer in through the window, darting rapidly back and forth to find you. “I’m so afraid.” your gaze flicks up to the Titan in the window, staring in horror as your eyes meet, its own completely void of any emotion at all, and your own watering as you realize you’re made.
“No…” you mumble, grinding your teeth to steady your voice, squeezing the blade tight in your palm. perhaps it was the shard cutting into your hand that caused your brows to furrow, or the resolve you forced on to your features, and into your heart. you couldn’t attack it— there was no way you’d be able to will your legs to carry you another inch, much less swing the weapon or get close enough to slice the nape. “You can’t… have me…” you take a deep, shaky breath and close your eyes.
you think about him. Levi. and how he’d tried to talk you out of joining the Scouts in the first place.
“I said no.”
“Giving me orders already, captain?” you’d teased, lighthearted, but Levi hadn’t laughed. his lips hadn’t even twitched.
“Scouts die.” he’d been leaning against the door, his arms crossed over his chest. his way of trying to keep you from going.
but you’d simply walked over to him, framing his face with both hands, the soft pads of your thumbs tracing his lips in hopes to persuade them to etch upwards, but they were cemented in a disapproving frown. “Everyone dies.”
“Everyone dies.” you repeat that now, eyes still closed, but it sounded different. your voice wasn’t soft and steady, it was trembling.
“I don’t want to watch you leave again. I want to be with you. I want to fight by your side.”
“Everyone dies.”
but you didn’t think that you would so soon. face to face with certain death when your life had just started didn’t seem fair. you still had so much to see, and do, and so much to show Levi. so many days that you wanted to spend with him, and you could see those slipping into an abysmal impossibility.
“I’m sorry.” whether you mutter the pathetic, monotone apology to the girl in the reflection or the man that would never hear the words is irrelevant. you were sorry to both.
to that unrecognizable version of yourself for not being stronger for her, for not protecting her.
and to Levi for breaking his heart. you didn’t mean to, but you knew what would happen when the high-strung captain heard you’d died. he’d blame himself. he’d lose himself in a rage so fierce that you worried he might take on the whole species of Titan by himself. you didn’t want that, you decided. you didn’t want him on some rampage for revenge that, ultimately, wouldn’t mean a damn thing. but you knew that what you wanted for him was irrelevant now. you’d never get the chance to tell him.
the first slice doesn’t hurt, perhaps because you’d done it so quickly that you didn’t even notice it’d actually cut until you saw the blood pouring from your wrist. the sight made you lightheaded, but you knew you had to finish what you started. angling the blade in that same hand, you struggle to make the second cut, dragging it awkwardly along your veins. it hurts this time, and you choke on a squeak when it finally shreds through your flesh, soaking it in crimson. within moments, pool starts to form on the floor around you, a ruby river. you stare at the Titan, who’d been watching you, unmoving. you wonder if it will still eat you, though you can’t imagine it would. its eyes are untelling, watching you, but it doesn’t reach for you.
good, you thought. with any luck, your body wouldn’t be too mangled. maybe they could even carry you home. Levi would want to give you a proper burial if he could.
that’s when you hear it.
the thunderous hoofbeats. there’s so many, an army of Scouts heading your way. your eyes widen when you recognize the furious stamping of his horse, leading the charge. “Levi—“ you murmur. “You made it…” you could already hear the whirring of their gear as the first wave of Scouts deployed to take the Titan horde down, and you had no doubt in your mind that Levi was making short work of them.
even the Titan in the window, which was staring at you with big, unblinking eyes, jolted and elicited a gurgling, inhuman moan, before steam leaked in through the window and he crumpled out of sight below. you heard it hit the ground, and then the world around you started to go fuzzy.
you’re so sleepy. you need to just… close your eyes for a moment. resting your head against the wall, your eyelids droop. but you smile, knowing that Levi was on his way. he’d come to save you. of course he had. and you’d have to thank him with a tight hug and a loving shower of kisses.
after just a wink or two of sleep.
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Petra was mortified when Levi sheathed his blades and approached the house, a pile of dead and sizzling Titans behind him. she’d gone ahead to identify the bodies inside of there were any. there was only one, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. furthermore, she couldn’t even look at her captain, who knew immediately that something was very, very wrong.
“What is it?” he asked, shuffling closer. he grimaced— he could smell the Titan stink as the blood dissipated from his clothes.
“Captain…” Petra whispered, glancing at his feet, and then at her own.
Levi’s heart skipped a beat. he considered repeating his question, but she couldn’t even meet his gaze, so he was fairly certain he already knew the answer.
and it broke him.
he careened around her small frame as she tries to block the doorway.
“Wait, Levi!”
but it didn’t matter, he was already taking the stairs two at a time, breathing ragged, heart drumming in his ears. Petra followed behind him, begging him to slow down, to wait a minute, but he could hardly hear her. the bedroom doorway is buzzing with other Scouts, who all go completely silent when he reaches the landing. his hardened gaze, steel, grazes over each one. they all knew to back away and let him through, and they did so silently.
he could see you before he stepped inside, huddled in the corner, crimson-doused, and he held his breath.
no. he didn’t want to believe it, though he knew he had no choice. he didn’t want the knowledge, or the guilt.
I should’ve been here.
I should’ve never let you out of my sight.
a few paces in and broken glass and shattered blades crunch beneath his boot. out of the corner of his eye, he could see other Scouts lay in half eaten pieces, but you seemed utterly untouched, far enough away from the window that the Titan couldn’t have reached you.
Petra had entered, too, and the other Scouts began to filter in after her, all simply staring at Levi as he knelt in front of your body.
Why did Erwin insist on your own squad? Levi grinds his teeth— he couldn’t speak the words, and he knew you couldn’t hear them anyways. he could feel his anger bubbling. the commander would be lucky not to have a blade to his throat when Levi finally reached him. regardless of their friendship, regardless of the understandings they’ve reached, if he hadn’t pushed to promote you before you were ready, Levi knew you would still be alive. he would’ve been able to see to it personally.
“I came for you.” he mutters so low that only he hears it, and that’s only just barely. “I’m here.” he says it in hopes to stir you; a foolish want to see you wake up.
but the scene was all wrong, Levi thought, because you didn’t open your eyes. not even when he placed his palm against your cheek, urging it up, as if to coax you to look up at him. usually when he did this, your eyes lit up, a pleased smile etching your lips upwards, or you crooned and nestled against his caress.
you did neither this time. your skin was like ice, and if he had been a weaker man, he might’ve drawn his hand back in terror. he doesn’t, and instead, examines your face closely. your countenance is splattered with blood, but he realizes only after a moment that it doesn’t belong to you, as he takes the alabaster ascot from his neck and wipes the stains away. he couldn’t stand to see something dirtying your face. grateful that your face isn’t riddled with gouges or scars and now is easier to look at, he bites down on the inside of his lip and simply pets it, unblinking, hardly breathing.
“There’s room in the wagon.” Petra murmurs, coming closer. she doesn’t kneel down with him, gives him plenty of space, and he’s thankful for that. “We can take her home.”
Levi nods, but says nothing, his slate gaze falling to your arms, splayed out in the pool of blood, and he carefully takes one, prying it from the sticky puddle, and turns it in to cover the gash, placing it on your lap. he does the same to the other, as if to hide them from everyone, himself included. if he didn’t have to see those ugly slits, maybe he could imagine you were simply sleeping.
“I’m sure she…” Petra trails off, and Levi can tell she’s scrambling to ease his pain, or his rage, or both. “She was so brave in those final moments.”
“No,” Levi speaks, finally, and the room fell painfully silent— as if he were the only living being, “no. She was afraid.” he could see a faint streak where a tear would’ve been on your cheek, and he traces it with his finger. “She was terrified because she was the only one left. She didn’t even know we were en route.” he wanted to curse you for not giving him just a little bit more time. didn’t you know that he would always protect you? why couldn’t you just hold on? “She died thinking I abandoned her.” and in his eyes, he did. he should’ve pushed harder against Erwin’s orders.
rage broiled within him, searing the blood coursing through his veins. in this moment, he wanted to bring every Titan outside back to life just to kill them all over again. he wanted to murder every, single monster until his body finally gave out from exhaustion, all in your name.
it’s my fault.
I did this.
My failure to fight harder to secure her safety killed the woman I love.
his hands ball into tight, white knuckled fists at his sides, his eyes wet with potential tears. he thought he was over this— the pain of losing people, and maybe he had been before you came along. he never expected to lose you, and maybe he was silly for that.
but now that he had, it hurt like hell.
“Levi.”
“Leave me alone, Petra.” he pleads with a surprisingly stable bark. “I need some time to think.”
“Levi?”
he blinks, confused. it wasn’t Petra’s voice, after all. he looks over his shoulder, blinking several times, and the scene around him melted into nothing. instead of looking into Petra’s eyes, he was staring into yours. his eyes squint against the morning sunlight spilling through the window and bathing you in a celestial glow. it took him a moment to realize he was on his back, in the bed the two of you shared, and you were lingering over him. you smile when you realize he’s awake, and it’s that lovely, soft curve of your lips that brings his first breath to his lips. he could exhale, knowing that you were here with him. “You were talking in your sleep again.” you murmur, petting his raven tendrils back from his sweat-slicked forehead for a minute, before you pull back and plant your feet on the floor.
you were half dressed, clad in your ODM gear and buttoning up your top.
Levi doesn’t respond, pulling himself into an upright position. his bare torso was gleaming with perspiration, and he could feel the sheets under him were soaked, too. he watches your back, heart still pounding in his chest.
even though it was just a bad dream, it still weighed heavily on him. because today was the day he dreaded— once outside the walls, you and a small group of soldiers would split off from the formation first. he just stared at you across the room, the horrific visage of your corpse still too fresh in his mind to let go. his head was spinning, a lump lodging itself so tight in his throat that he could hardly even breathe around it.
you don’t seem to notice at all, and maybe that’s because Levi Ackerman was damn good at putting on a convincing poker face. “Hurry up and get dressed.” you say, grabbing his uniform in your fist, finally turning to him and tossing it into his lap. “Unless you plan on leading the expedition in your underwear,” you pause, a teasing giggle bubbling up from your throat, “Although, I’m sure there’s plenty of Scouts that wouldn’t mind seeing th—“
you gasp.
Levi had practically flown from the bed, and he moved so fast you had no time to react before both arms locked around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. the blanket was still fluttering in the air, and settling back on to the mattress when you realized your captain was burying his face in your neck. the room is utterly silent, you can’t hear a thing besides the beating of your own heart. “Levi…?” but you hugged him back; of course you did. wrapping your arms around him in kind, you nuzzle into his embrace, kissing his warm, naked shoulder.
finally, after several quiet moments of this— Levi squeezing you tight, he pulls back, and his features are still and calm. he looks like himself, but you notice a twinkle in his grey gaze, a tear forced back. you decide not to comment on it, because his hand has come up to caress your cheek. “Be careful today.”
“Always.” you respond, but that doesn’t seem good enough for him.
“I mean it.” he insists, thin brows furrowed. you nod, starting to speak again, but he cuts you off. “Don’t be reckless. Promise me.”
your eyes are wide and peering at him— he rarely talked like this. “I promise. I’ll be careful. I won’t be reckless.” you consider saying the same to him, but decide against it. you could see, now that he was close, that he was stressed. his brows refused to unknit, and his mouth was a tight, thin line. even his fingertips barely twitched against your skin. “I’ll even beat you to the rendezvous point.” you whispered, hoping to ease his tension, and it seems to work, if only for a moment, because his expression softens.
“You’d better.”
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wizard-finix · 1 month
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Ao3 tag game!
THANKS @ragecndybars FOR THE TAG I APPRECIATE IT
*cracks knuckles* lets do this
How many works do you have on AO3?
24 works! I would have never expected to have that many 5 years ago, hahaha
What's your total AO3 word count?
186,291! oh wow, almost 200k!! (unsurprisingly PT minato takes up over a third of that LMAO)
How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?
10 fandoms! I'm counting Persona 3, 4, and 5 and separate, but I'm grouping all the Zelda fandoms together since it's all Linked Universe fic.
Here's the breakdown!
The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms (6)
Persona 5 (5)
Persona 3 (5)
SPY x FAMILY (Anime) (3)
Wizard101 (Video Game) (3)
SPY x FAMILY (Manga) (3)
Runescape (Video Games) (3)
Pirate101 (Video Game) (3)
Persona 4 (2)
The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom (2)
Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga (1)
Star Wars - All Media Types (1)
The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors (1)
Top five fics by kudos:
The Ghost of Mementos/Stygian Ringlet (Persona3/5) - to the surprise of absolutely no one, since this is currently my longest fic. I'm very happy with Stygian Ringlet being the top because I love my boys :)
True Crime Special on the Midnight Channel (Persona 4/5) - my Ren has a TV Dungeon fic! also very proud of the dungeon concept for this one, I really need to finish the last two chapters
Dark Clouds on the Horizon (Linked Universe/TOTK) - I feel like this one got a lot of momentum partially because it was directly in the wake of TOTK's release, but I'm happy with how it turned out :)
Strangers Are Just Friends You Haven't Met (Persona 3/SPY x FAMILY) - this was a collab series with mewrose and a few others in the marigolds discord! we were throwing ideas at the wall to see what stuck and I really had a lot of fun with Shinjiro-related prompts, because I LOVE him and hitting him with the isekai baseball bat into a universe with Anya brings me great joy
Salt Tears and Raindrops (Linked Universe/TOTK) - directly related to Dark Clouds, and I'm glad people enjoyed good ol' fashioned angst >:) (I do need to post more of my wips, I do have a couple more roleswap AU wips that I want to post)
Do you respond to comments?
Yes! I almost always do because I really appreciate them and its my way of saying thanks for the comment! If I don't comment it's because I lost track of it or because I can't think of a response.
What's the fic with the angstiest ending you've ever written?
Probably Salt Tears and Raindrops. I was in a Mood and decided to go for the tried-and-true method of putting fictional characters I like through the emotional wringer. That's how I got the rough draft for this fic :)
Do you write crossovers?
*looks at my persona fics and recent LU fics*
...I think it's safe to say most of my fics these days fall under crossovers lmao
Have you ever gotten hate on a fic?
I wouldn't say I have? One or two comments that came off as rude, but no actual hate, thankfully. If I did, I forgot about it. I've been blessed by wonderfully nice readers <3
Do you write smut?
Nope. I don't read it, so I wouldn't know how to write it anyway.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of? I sure hope not.
I have seen a couple short fics slightly imitate Ghost of Mementos though, which I thought was really sweet that they liked it enough to inspire their own writing.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope, but I'd definitely be open to it!
What’s your all-time favorite ship?
RYOMINA. Hands down. I love them so much, I am so mentally unwell about these two
What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?
My two Runescape fics, Whispers in the Temple and Welcome to the Jungle. I absolutely loved going hogwild with rewriting old quests in Runescape, but I psyched myself out of Welcome to the Jungle because I got overly anxious about accidentally doing bad representation.
(in hindsight, it probably wouldn't have been as big a deal as I thought; it's hard to make it worse considering how bad Legend's Quest was with the british-african stereotypes. that quest DID NOT age well.)
I also want to finish Snake in the Grass; that was my first attempt at a genuine mystery plot and I really liked playing with Warriors in that fic in the context of the gang trying to figure out who the heck is trying to murder him.
What are your writing strengths?
I feel like I'm pretty good at dialogue! I try to make sure it matches the character's speech patterns and personality. Really well-written dialogue can tell you who's speaking without actually telling who it is. (For example, the way I write them: Minato speaks as few words as possible and has very little filter with his observations when he does share them, and Shinjiro is pretty rough around the edges, with shortened words and the occasional swear. Warriors is good with words and wit, but he has a certain military-esque directness and doesn't dance around the topic.)
I do try hard to keep the plot clear and understandable over everything else, so probably that as well.
Also, now that I think about it, maybe fight sequences? I don't do them much, but I do enjoy the challenge of making a clear sequence of what happens in a fight and trying to make it understandable. Fight sequences are easy to skip or gloss over, but I think of them like their own miniature plot. What happens? What surprises are there? What are their movesets? How do they get the upper hand? (and of course, what looks cool as fuck)
What are your writing weaknesses?
Time management. I tend to over-proofread since I beta my own work, and often I'll go back to tweak stuff if I had additional thoughts to add to it, or extra insight. Lately, it takes longer to write chapters than I'd like.
Also, dialogue-heavy scenes often get very chaotic in my WIPs because of the way I rough out fics. I'll throw together a bunch of dialogue bits I think would be cool to include, and sometimes they'll clash or get really messy, especially if there's lots of characters (looking at the latest two chapters of Stygian Ringlet)
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fics?
I think it's cool! It adds flavor to fics. If it's more than one short phrase though, or if it's story important, then I do prefer that there is a translation in the author's notes. I haven't done any non-English dialogue in fics, save for one memorable adventure into trying to figure out how Latin grammar structure works for a character that didn't speak English.
What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?
Wizard101 and Pirate101. I was obsessed with those two for YEARS. I really, really liked pirate stories in high school, and having a cast of crewmates that accompany you throughout the game really inspired me to write my first fic featuring my OC. (I was also into One Piece at the time, but I never wrote for it.)
What’s your favorite fic you’ve written so far?
Stygian Ringlet. It's really dear to my heart. I have poured so much love and effort into that fic, and the reception on it has completely blown me away.
THANKS FOR THE TAG!! Uhhhmmm for tags I'm going to go with @skyward-floored, @catreginae and @breannasfluff (but only if you want to!! no obligation of course)
and of course any other writers that want to do it as well!! go forth
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thecuriousquest · 10 months
Note
Have you heard of Ikigai or positive Psycology? A large part of it is focusing on the little joys in day to day life. I was wondering what you'd come up with with a yandere of your choice with a darling that followed that philosophy and despite feeling the usual anger/sadness also tries to find small things to savor and promote happiness within them?
Ikigai
Yandere Izuku x Reader
Tag List: @issamomma
Warnings: Yandere themes, implied kidnapping
Checkout my Master List here.
—————————————————————————
Rage tends to fester easily for you. That’s a part of the reason why you took to books, trying to find some form of self help. You feel it is all so useless. You throw your books at the wall, cursing, sputtering a string of profanities that doesn’t even make sense.
Then, you found it, a lesson to be learned in life, to enjoy the little things. You felt like you could definitely use it in your current situation. Izuku always keeps a close eye on you, never straying far from your sights. He either has an arm around your waist or a hand holding yours more often than not.
One joy to focus on is that you have a separate bedroom from him. He claims this is just until you adjust to your situation, but for the time being, you’re going to enjoy the space.
There are so many things that make you happy that you never noticed before. Waking up to the sound of lively birds chirping is one of them. It’s a great way for you to begin your day.
———
When Izuku forces you to stay inside because you’ve been a little mouthy lately so you don’t get any outdoor privileges, you want to be angry. In fact, you are angry. Despite your emotions, you try your best to keep a steady tone with him, trying to remember your new found philosophy.
“Izuku, I was just a little angry. Please, let me go outside?” You don’t want to apologize, so you don’t. You just hope that he’ll forgive the little incident in the kitchen and let you go out.
“No, you have to understand the consequences of your actions. You’re not allowed outside for the time being.”
“You can’t fucking lock me up like this!”
He shakes his head as he pulls you by your arm up to your room. The next thing you know, he’s pushing you inside and locking the door behind you from the outside.
“You can stay in there until you learn how to speak to me with respect.”
You want to curse at him and scream about all of the unfairness he’s thrusting upon you. However, you try to focus your attention on the light streaming through the window, warming the back of your hand. You’re surprised by how the sunlight calms you down.
———
As you gain your outdoor privileges back, you find yourself frowning at how Izuku fucking follows you into the garden. He claims it’s for your own good. He needs to keep you safe. Translation: I don’t trust you to not run off. Sighing, you walk over to a rose bush and watch as the last flower finishes curling outward to reveal itself in a beautiful bloom. Your heart skips a beat when you realized your timing was perfect, and you find yourself full of the sun’s warmth.
At first, you hated when Izuku would talk to you. Even more so, you hated having to converse with him. Now that you’re welcoming this new philosophy into your life, you find yourself talking with him easily. There’s not as much tension between the two of you as there used to be, and it makes your heart feel a little less heavy. What brings back a soft light into your eye is when you say something that you don’t think is all that funny, but Izuku finds utterly hilarious to the point that he falls out of his seat while laughing. You find yourself giggling along with him.
You ask Izuku if you can take up cooking and baking to try to pass the time. He happily obliges your request. He gets you cookbooks of all kind. You find that you like baking the best. You offer the pro hero a plate of brownies, nothing too special about them. He thinks the world of them though because the were made by you. He loves them, his eyes closing as he sighs from how amazing they taste as he chomps on them with delight. You feel good about bringing joy to someone after a while of feeling purposeless.
Time passes, and Izuku installs a radio in the kitchen for you to listen to when you bake. You take to your tasks, following the recipes intently. Just when you’re about to pop the cookies in the oven, your favorite song comes on. You had no idea it would. It fills your heart to the brim with happiness. You excitedly start singing and dancing to it. Izuku walks into the kitchen to see what’s going on, and you grab his hands, forcing him to dance with you. You sing the lyrics that he doesn’t know while you sway with your arms around him. Both of you smile, and you actually kind of like the way he looks at you. It makes you blush.
With this new found philosophy of yours, you understand that you might be unable to leave, but you do have control over how you see life. You could spend it angry and miserable, or you could try to live as happily as you can. It’s all up to you.
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