#» smoke and keys ( aesthetic ) «
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
i want to live alone in an apartment in a room smoking cigarettes writing a book about suicide drinking coffee listening to some Banger maybe lana or i want to smoke cigarettes in a room alone playing E-guitar or bass.
(might even drink some alcohol)
#jirai girl#jirai kei#jiraiblr#tw: sucidal thoughts#actually bpd#jirai onna#landmine girl#sorry for being depressing#tw depressing thoughts#jiraiblogging#landmineblogging#landmineblr#landmine type#lana del rey#lana del ray aesthetic#bpd vent#bpd thoughts#smoke weed everyday#smoke cigs#mentally tired#suic1de#guitar#writeblr
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
おやすみ😌🌃💤
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
#cute anime#cute aesthetic#teen#anime school girl#bug girl#bugs#cute#aesthetic#anime#girly kei#cigarette#cig#cutesy#asain#pretty#beauty#meme#smoke#smoking#smoker#adorable#pink#pink stuff#pink clothes
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
tagged by @blackberry-sunset 🥰
(i very much agree that making a new post>the endless reblog chain)
tagging: @pinklume @cuddlebugsirius @lilyflxwers @hearteyesmoony
#i haven't really been online lately and i've been enjoying it but i will always make an exception for a picrew/picrew adjacent game#and look!!! my hair!!! it's correct this time!!! we have to stan#i do not actually smoke but like. the aesthetic u know?#and i thought they room key was a nice touch. keeping in character u know since the quiz decided to give me 'the whore'#😭#at first i wanted to object because. well.#but then i thought it might actually be fun idk so here i am with my little room key#y'all really don't know how much i enjoy these things btw. some people have drugs and i have dress up games#also if u will notice. i do not have a weapon. this is actually a very deliberate choice because well if i ever ended up in a horror movie#i would simply die. so much easier#... you know what maybe the quiz was onto something
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
It's a working progress, BUT HERE IT ISSSS! ゚+.゚(´▽`人)゚+.゚ PLZZZ CONSIDER FOLLOWING MY NEW SOCIALS!
IT WOULD BE MUCH APPRECIATED
🩷🖤🩷🖤🌙🌙🌙🌙🩷🖤🩷🖤🌙🌙🌙
#cute core#me core#2000s emo#alternative#current mood#fypシ#emo goth#kawaii#im just a girl#pink aesthetic#meow#kittyposting#kawai girl#pinkcore#dark aesthetic#grungy aesthetic#pink grunge#creepy cute#fypツ#influencer#cute gore#pretty guardian sailor moon#visual kei#angel#angelcore#fallen angel#tumblr fyp#girls with piercings#girls who smoke weed#for3v3r st0n3d
1 note
·
View note
Text
💚💛❤️
0 notes
Text
Siren ; Lee Anton
Pairings: Obsessive!Anton x Femme Fatale!Reader
Genre: Angst
Description: at seonghwa academy, you reign like a queen—flawless, untouchable, and cold as ice. your beauty is your weapon, used to control and manipulate those who fall under your spell. but when you catch the eye of anton, a brooding athlete with a quiet intensity, you meet your match. beneath his silence lies a dark obsession, a twisted desire that mirrors your own. as you engage in a dangerous dance of power and control, the line between.
Warnings: manipulation, obsessive behaviour, anton is low-key unhinged, death
. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .
in the heart of seoul, hidden away from the prying eyes of the common folk, lay seonghwa academy—a sanctuary for the elite. the school was a sprawling estate, its towering gates adorned with intricate gold designs, a symbol of the wealth and privilege that lay within. beyond the gates, the grounds stretched out in a lavish display of manicured gardens, where ancient cherry blossom trees stood sentinel, their delicate pink petals drifting like snowflakes in the gentle breeze.
the main building of the academy was a marvel of architecture, a blend of traditional korean aesthetics and modern grandeur. its walls were of pristine white stone, polished to a shine, with high windows that allowed sunlight to pour in, casting long, golden rays across the polished marble floors.
inside, the halls were wide and lined with portraits of illustrious alumni, men and women who had gone on to shape the world, all of them linked by the common thread of privilege and power. the ceiling soared above, adorned with chandeliers that glittered like a constellation of stars, their crystal drops refracting light into a thousand tiny rainbows that danced across the room.
it was within these halls that you held court, like a queen surveying her kingdom. your presence was a force unto itself, commanding attention without a word, demanding devotion without a single gesture. you moved through the school like a wisp of smoke, impossible to grasp but impossible to ignore. wherever you went, a hush fell over those around you, as if the mere sight of you demanded reverence.
you were beautiful, but not in the way most people imagined when they thought of beauty. it wasn’t just your face, though that was a masterpiece in itself—high cheekbones, a delicate nose, lips that curled into a perfect bow. your skin was like porcelain, flawless and smooth, with a soft, ethereal glow that seemed to emanate from within, your hair, a cascade of black silk, framed a face so perfect it seemed almost unreal, like something crafted by the hands of a deity in a moment of unparalleled inspiration. your eyes, dark and mysterious, held a depth that could drown anyone who dared look too long into them, a dangerous promise hidden behind a veil of innocence.
but it was more than just your physical appearance. your beauty was a weapon, and you wielded it with precision. you were calculating, always two steps ahead, your mind a cold, sharp instrument honed to perfection. everything you did was for your own gain, every smile, every glance, every word spoken was a move in the intricate game you played. you took pleasure in your power, in the way others bent to your will without even realizing they were doing so.
and then there was your voice, soft and low, like velvet brushing against bare skin. when you spoke, people listened. they hung onto your every word, eager to please, desperate to be noticed by you.
boys fell over themselves trying to catch your attention, offering gifts, writing love letters, all in the vain hope that you might spare them a glance. you accepted their offerings with a smile that never reached your eyes, always taking, never giving. you played them like instruments, each one serving a purpose, whether it was to boost your social standing, to gain favors, or simply to amuse yourself. all blinded by the allure of being noticed by someone as unattainable as you were.
girls envied and admired you in equal measure, some even attempting to emulate your style, though none could quite capture the effortless elegance that came so naturally to you. they didn’t realize that what they saw was a facade, a carefully constructed image designed to elicit the desired response from those around you. you knew exactly how to dress, how to speak, how to act to keep them all under your thumb, to keep them guessing, to keep them wanting more.
among the crowd of admirers, anton was different.
anton was handsome, that much was undeniable. he had a certain ruggedness to him, a sharpness to his features that contrasted with the softness of yours. his hair, dark and thick, often fell across his forehead in a tousled mess that only seemed to enhance his brooding appeal. his eyes, a piercing shade of blue, stood out against his tanned skin, giving him an intensity that could be felt even from a distance. he was tall and lean, his athletic build a testament to the hours he spent training on the field, every muscle in his body honed to perfection.
but where you were a beacon of light, drawing everyone towards you, anton was a shadow, always lurking at the edges, observing from afar. he was quiet, almost painfully so, his presence more of a whisper than a shout. while others jostled for your attention, anton remained on the periphery, content—or so it seemed—to watch you from a distance. his eyes followed you wherever you went, though he rarely spoke more than a few words to anyone.
his silence made him a mystery, one that no one seemed able to solve. he was a puzzle, each piece carefully guarded, revealing nothing of the whole. few knew anything about him beyond the superficial; he was good at sports, he was handsome, and he kept to himself. only a handful of people could claim to be his friends, and even they struggled to understand the depths of his thoughts.
where others saw an angel, he saw something more—a force of nature, a tempest that he wanted to be caught in, even if it meant his own destruction. his heart beat faster when you were near, the blood in his veins turning to fire as your scent—jasmine and something darker, something that whispered of forbidden things—wafted through the air.
his shyness was a curse in your presence. while others boldly approached you, offering gifts and compliments, anton remained in the background, his love for you a silent, burning thing that threatened to consume him. he longed to speak to you, to make you see him, truly see him, but the fear of rejection, of shattering the perfect image he had of her in his mind, kept him silent.
but you noticed him, of course. how could you not? unlike the others who fell over themselves to win your favor, anton presented a challenge. he was a puzzle you wanted to solve, not out of any genuine interest, but because you hated the idea that someone in your domain could remain untouched by your influence. there was something in the way he looked at you—intense, almost possessive—that sparked a flicker of interest, but more than that, it was the challenge that intrigued you. here was someone who didn’t play by your rules, and that was unacceptable.
one crisp autumn afternoon, as the sun bathed the campus in a warm, golden light, you were making your way across the courtyard. the air was filled with the soft rustle of leaves as they fell from the trees, carpeting the ground in shades of red and gold. your footsteps were almost silent against the cobblestones, the sound barely audible over the murmurs of students passing by.
ahead, you noticed anton standing with a small group of his friends. they were near the edge of the courtyard, leaning casually against the stone balustrade that overlooked the garden below. though his friends were engaged in light conversation, anton seemed distant, his gaze unfocused as if lost in thought. it wasn’t until you were closer that his eyes snapped to you, a flash of something dark and unreadable crossing his features.
“here she comes,” one of anton’s friends, a tall boy with an easy smile, murmured under his breath, though not quietly enough to escape your notice. “the ice queen herself.”
“more like a goddess,” another boy replied, his tone tinged with admiration. “she doesn’t even have to try, does she? it’s like she was born to make us all look bad.”
there was a low chuckle from the group, but anton remained silent, his eyes still fixed on you. you allowed a small, knowing smile to curve your lips, a smile that only deepened the allure you held over them. you knew the effect you had, and you reveled in it. but this smile wasn’t just for them—it was a calculated move, a test to see how anton would react.
as you walked past, you let your gaze flicker towards anton for just a moment, long enough to meet his eyes and see the way they darkened, the intensity of his stare like a physical touch. it was a brief exchange, but it was enough to tell you what you needed to know. he wasn’t immune to you. far from it. he was just better at hiding it.
“careful, anton,” one of his friends teased, noticing the exchange. “she’s not the kind of girl you want to mess with.”
anton finally tore his gaze away from you, a faint smile ghosting across his lips as he replied, his voice low and measured, “i’m not messing with her.”
his friend raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “so what’s the plan, then? you just going to keep watching her from afar? because if you ask me, she’s out of everyone’s league here. untouchable.”
anton didn’t respond immediately, his eyes flickering back to where you had just disappeared around the corner. when he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet that his friends had to lean in to catch the words.
“some things are worth waiting for,” he said, his tone laced with a quiet conviction that sent a ripple of unease through the group.
“yeah, well, just be careful you don’t get burned,” the tall boy replied, though there was no real concern in his voice, only the easy camaraderie of someone who didn’t quite understand the depths of his friend’s obsession.
anton offered no reply, his thoughts already drifting back to you. his friends resumed their conversation, but he remained silent, his mind occupied with the image of your smile, the way it had seemed to linger on your lips just a moment too long, as if it had been meant for him alone.
later that afternoon, as the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the school grounds, you found yourself in the library. it was a vast room, lined with shelves that reached up to the ceiling, filled with books that spanned every subject imaginable. the scent of aged paper hung in the air, mingling with the faint scent of polished wood and the crispness of the autumn air that drifted in through the open windows.
you chose this place deliberately—your sanctuary, your throne room, where you could reign undisturbed. the library was usually deserted at this hour, a perfect place to think, to plot your next move. you moved gracefully through the aisles, your fingers trailing lightly over the spines of the books as you walked, until you reached your usual spot, a secluded table tucked away in a corner, hidden from view but with a clear line of sight to the entrance.
you settled into your seat, your back straight, your posture impeccable, as you opened a book—a volume on ancient strategies of war, a fitting choice given the games you played with those around you. but as you began to read, your thoughts kept drifting back to anton, to the way he had looked at you in the courtyard. there was something about him that you couldn’t quite place, something that made him stand out from the others. he was different, and that intrigued you.
you heard the door to the library creak open, the sound barely perceptible, but you were attuned to the slightest disturbance in your surroundings. you didn’t look up, though you knew who it was even before you heard the familiar sound of his footsteps approaching. you continued reading, allowing him to come to you, your expression calm and unreadable.
“strange seeing you here twice in one day,” anton’s voice broke the silence, soft yet edged with something dark, something that hinted at the depths beneath his calm exterior.
you slowly raised your eyes from the book, fixing him with a cool, appraising gaze. “is it?”
he stood at the edge of your table, his posture relaxed but his eyes focused, as if he were trying to decipher the meaning behind your calm demeanor. he didn’t sit down, didn’t make any move to bridge the gap between you, and you respected that. it showed that he wasn’t like the others who would have rushed to fill the silence, eager to be close to you, to bask in your presence.
“you usually avoid places like this,” he said, his voice low, almost a murmur, as though the library’s quiet demanded a softer tone.
you tilted your head slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. “and yet, here you are.”
anton didn’t respond immediately. his eyes flickered to the book in your hands, his expression thoughtful. “war strategies?” he observed, raising an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “fitting.”
“for what?” you asked, your voice smooth, almost teasing, though there was a hint of steel beneath your words.
“for someone like you,” he replied, his tone flat, betraying nothing of what he might be thinking. “someone who always seems to be a step ahead.”
you allowed a soft laugh to escape your lips, though it was devoid of any real warmth. “i find it useful to stay informed,” you said, closing the book with a decisive snap. “knowledge is power, after all.”
anton’s lips curled into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “and you enjoy having power, don’t you?”
you met his gaze, unflinching, your expression unreadable. “wouldn’t you?”
he didn’t answer, but the look in his eyes was enough. he understood, perhaps more than anyone else. in that moment, you saw a reflection of yourself in him—a hunger, a need to control, to dominate. it was rare to find someone who could match you in this way, and it made you wonder just how far you could push him before he would break.
“why are you here, anton?” you asked, your tone light but with an underlying sharpness. “surely you didn’t come all this way just to exchange pleasantries?”
anton took a step closer, leaning slightly over the table, his eyes locked onto yours. “i came to see you.”
“did you?” you replied, feigning surprise, though you were anything but. “and what is it that you want from me?”
he took another step closer, his gaze intense, as if he were trying to penetrate your carefully constructed facade. “you already know the answer to that.”
you leaned back in your chair, creating more distance between you, as if to remind him who was in control. “perhaps,” you said slowly, your voice laced with an almost cruel amusement. “but i want to hear you say it.”
anton’s jaw tightened, the only outward sign of his frustration. he wasn’t used to being played with, and it was clear that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the power dynamic between you. but he held his ground, refusing to be the first to break.
“i want to understand you,” he said finally, the words heavy with meaning.
you raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued now. “understand me?” you echoed, your tone mocking. “how quaint. and why would you want that?”
his eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were trying to see through your facade, to find the real person beneath the mask. “because you’re different from the others,” he said, his voice firm. “you don’t care about the things they care about. you’re not like them.”
you felt a flicker of satisfaction at his words, though you kept your expression neutral. “you think you’re different too, don’t you?” you asked, your voice soft, almost a whisper. “that’s why you’re drawn to me. you see something of yourself in me.”
anton didn’t deny it. instead, he straightened, putting more distance between you. “maybe,” he admitted, though there was a hint of reluctance in his voice, as if he didn’t want to admit just how much you fascinated him.
you leaned forward, your eyes glinting with something dark, something that spoke of the game you were playing. “but here’s the thing, anton,” you said, your voice low and almost seductive. “just because we’re alike doesn’t mean we’re on the same side.”
anton’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something dangerous passing through them. “are you trying to warn me?”
you smiled then, a smile that held no warmth, no kindness. “no,” you said simply. “i’m just letting you know that you should be careful. you might think you understand me, but you don’t. and trying to get close to me, trying to figure me out, might not end the way you hope.”
there was a moment of silence, the tension between you so thick it was almost suffocating. anton’s expression remained unreadable, but you could see the wheels turning in his mind, could almost hear the thoughts racing through his head as he tried to decide his next move.
finally, he nodded, as if coming to some kind of internal decision. “i’ll take my chances,” he said, his voice calm, but with a resolve that made it clear he wasn’t backing down.
you studied him for a long moment, weighing his words, considering your next move. and then, you smiled again, this time a real smile, one that hinted at something more, something dangerous. “good,” you said softly, leaning back in your chair. “i was hoping you would say that.”
anton didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. he wasn’t afraid of you, and that made him even more interesting. this was going to be fun.
without another word, you stood up, the movement smooth and controlled. you gathered your things, the book you hadn’t read and the bag you carried with you everywhere. you leaned slightly over the table, bringing your face closer to his, your lips curling into a slow, deliberate smile.
"good luck, anton," you whispered, your voice low and intimate. "you’re going to need it."
and with that, you turned and walked away, leaving him sitting there, the echo of your parting words lingering in the air. as you left the library, you didn’t look back. you knew he was watching you, just as you knew he would continue to chase the idea of you, to try and uncover the truth you kept hidden behind layers of ice.
but in the end, it didn’t matter. you were always in control. anton might think he was playing the same game as you, but the truth was, he was just another piece on your board. and you? you were always several moves ahead.
the sun had set by the time you stepped outside, the evening air cool against your skin. the sky was a deep, inky blue, dotted with the first stars of the night. as you walked back to your dorm, your thoughts were already shifting to the next day, the next opportunity, the next move. anton was a distraction, an interesting one, but a distraction nonetheless. you had bigger plans, bigger goals, and you wouldn’t let anything—or anyone—stand in your way.
as the door to your dormitory closed behind you, you allowed yourself one last, fleeting thought of anton, of the way his eyes had burned with that cold fire, the way he had tried to match your coldness with his own. it was a futile effort, but it had been amusing, if only for a moment.
and then, with the finality of a chess player making the winning move, you pushed the thought from your mind, focusing instead on the game that truly mattered—the one where you were always the queen, and everyone else was just another pawn.
. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .
the days began to blur into one another, the once vibrant tapestry of autumn fading into the cold, muted tones of winter. seonghwa academy, with all its grandeur and decadence, seemed almost timeless in its beauty, untouched by the passage of the seasons. the cherry blossoms had long since fallen, leaving the trees bare, their skeletal branches scratching at the sky like bony fingers. the manicured gardens were now coated in a thin layer of frost, a glittering veil that shimmered in the pale morning light.
you moved through the academy like a specter, your presence felt more than seen. the halls were your domain, each corridor a labyrinth where you pulled the strings, where every whisper, every glance was carefully orchestrated. the students, your pawns, fell in line, their lives intertwined with yours in ways they could never fully understand. you held court in the shadows, your influence seeping into every corner, every conversation.
anton was no exception. from the moment he had sought you out in the library, you had known he would be different, a challenge unlike the others. and challenges, you had learned, were meant to be conquered.
he was drawn to you like a moth to a flame, his obsession growing with each passing day. it was subtle at first—an extra glance in your direction, a lingering look that held just a bit too long. but soon, it became something more, something palpable. you could feel his eyes on you even when you weren’t looking, could sense his presence lurking at the edge of your awareness like a shadow that refused to be shaken.
you began to toy with him, your moves calculated and deliberate, each interaction becoming a carefully orchestrated dance. the academy, a place of prestige and ambition, provided the perfect backdrop for your machinations. its grand halls and meticulously maintained gardens were a testament to the wealth and power of its patrons, and you knew how to navigate this world with ease.
your interactions with anton began innocently enough. it started with small things—catching his eye in the hallway and holding his gaze just a moment longer than necessary, brushing past him in the crowded corridors, your touch fleeting but deliberate. you could see the effect it had on him, the way his breath hitched, the way his composure faltered ever so slightly. it was intoxicating, the power you held over him, the way you could bend him to your will with nothing more than a look.
one evening, as the first snow of the season began to fall, you found yourself in the school’s music room, a place rarely visited by anyone outside of classes. the room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the soft glow of the sconces on the walls, casting long shadows that danced across the polished wood floors. the air was filled with the faint scent of old sheet music and the lingering notes of a piano that hadn’t been played in years.
you had come here to think, to plot your next move, but the silence was soon broken by the sound of the door creaking open. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. you could feel anton’s presence, the way the air seemed to thicken with his arrival.
“you shouldn’t be here,” you said, your voice a soft whisper that barely disturbed the quiet.
“neither should you,” he replied, his tone calm but with an undercurrent of something darker, something that hinted at the storm brewing beneath his surface.
you turned slowly to face him, your eyes meeting his with a cool, detached gaze. “i go where i please,” you said simply, as if that explained everything.
anton stepped further into the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click. he was dressed in the school’s uniform, but it seemed somehow more disheveled, the tie loosened, the shirt untucked at the edges, as if he had grown careless with his appearance. his hair was tousled, the dark strands falling into his eyes, but it did nothing to diminish the intensity of his gaze.
“why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice steady but with a hint of desperation, as if he were struggling to keep his emotions in check.
you tilted your head slightly, feigning ignorance. “doing what?”
anton’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he took a step closer. “you know what,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “why are you playing with me?”
a smile ghosted across your lips, a smile devoid of any warmth, any humanity. “because i can,” you replied, your tone light, almost mocking. “because it amuses me.”
anton’s eyes darkened, the shadows in the room seeming to grow longer, deeper. “you think this is a game?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly with barely restrained anger.
“everything is a game,” you said, your voice as cold and unfeeling as the snow falling outside. “and you’re just another piece on the board.”
he stared at you, his expression a mixture of anger and something else, something you couldn’t quite place. there was a darkness in him, a darkness that mirrored your own, and for a moment, you almost felt something—a flicker of recognition, of understanding. but you quickly pushed it aside, reminding yourself of who you were, of what you were.
“i don’t want to be your pawn,” anton said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“then don’t be,” you replied, your tone dismissive. “no one’s forcing you to play.”
but you both knew that wasn’t true. he was trapped, ensnared in a web of his own making, and there was no escape. not now. not ever.
anton took another step closer, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that was almost suffocating. “what do you want from me?” he asked, his voice hoarse, as if the words had been dragged from the depths of his soul.
you looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, you felt something stir within you, something you couldn’t quite identify. but then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the cold, calculating detachment that had always served you so well.
“i want to see how far you’ll go,” you said, your voice soft, almost seductive. “how much you’re willing to sacrifice for me.”
anton’s eyes narrowed, suspicion and anger flaring in equal measure. “and what if i’m not willing to give you what you want?” he asked, his voice challenging, daring you to push him further.
you smiled then, a smile that was all sharp edges and hidden dangers. “oh, anton,” you said, your tone dripping with condescension. “you will. you won’t be able to help yourself.”
there was a moment of silence, the tension between you so thick it was almost suffocating. and then, without warning, anton reached out, his hand gripping your wrist with a force that sent a shock of pain up your arm. his touch was cold, his fingers like iron bands that held you in place, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of fear, a fear that you hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“don’t underestimate me,” anton said, his voice low, dangerous. “i’m not like the others. i won’t break for you.”
you met his gaze, your eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, you saw the truth in his words. anton wasn’t like the others. he was stronger, more resilient, and that made him dangerous. but it also made the game more interesting, more challenging. and you had never been one to back down from a challenge.
“we’ll see,” you said, your voice steady, unyielding.
anton held your gaze for a moment longer, his grip on your wrist tightening before he finally let go. you watched him as he stepped back, his expression unreadable, the storm in his eyes raging just beneath the surface.
“this isn’t over,” he said, his voice low, filled with a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
“no,” you replied, your tone calm, composed. “it’s just beginning.”
with that, anton turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room, the silence pressing down on you like a weight. you watched him go, a small smile playing on your lips, your mind already working, already planning your next move.
the game was far from over, and you had no intention of losing. anton was a challenge, a puzzle that you were determined to solve, no matter what it took. and if you had to break him in the process, then so be it.
after all, in the end, there could only be one winner.
as the days passed, you continued to play your game, each move calculated, each interaction designed to push anton further, to test the limits of his obsession. you gave him tasks, small at first—bring you a book from the library, fetch you a drink from the cafeteria—but each one was a test, a way to gauge just how far he was willing to go for you.
and he did them all, without question, without hesitation. it was almost too easy, the way he bent to your will, the way he followed your every command. but there was something about the way he did it, the way he looked at you with those dark, intense eyes, that told you he wasn’t doing it out of fear, or even out of a desire to please you. no, there was something else driving him, something deeper, something darker.
you began to push him harder, your requests growing more demanding, more invasive. you asked him to skip classes for you, to lie to his friends, to steal things from the other students. and still, he did it all, without a word of protest, without a single sign of reluctance.
it was thrilling, the power you held over him, the way you could make him do anything with nothing more than a smile, a glance, a whispered word. but there was also a danger in it, a danger that you were acutely aware of, but chose to ignore. because the truth was, you weren’t sure how far anton would go, and that uncertainty, that unpredictability, was what made the game so intoxicating.
one night, as the winter winds howled outside, you found yourself alone in your room, the fire in the hearth casting flickering shadows on the walls. you were seated at your desk, a glass of wine in hand, when there was a knock at the door. you knew who it was before you even opened it.
anton stood in the doorway, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was something different about him, something you couldn’t quite place. his clothes were disheveled, his hair even more tousled than usual, and there was a wildness in his eyes that sent a thrill of fear, and excitement, coursing through you.
“come in,” you said, your voice steady, betraying none of the emotions swirling within you.
he stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other, the tension in the room thick and suffocating.
“what do you want?” you asked, your tone cool, detached.
anton didn’t answer immediately. instead, he took a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours, his expression intense, almost desperate.
“i want you,” he said finally, his voice low, hoarse.
you felt your heart skip a beat, the admission catching you off guard. but you quickly recovered, your composure slipping back into place like a well-worn mask.
“you can’t have me,” you replied, your tone cold, unfeeling.
“i know,” anton said, his voice barely above a whisper. “but that doesn’t change anything.”
there was a moment of silence, the two of you standing so close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to control his breathing.
“why?” you asked, your voice soft, almost curious.
anton’s eyes darkened, the storm in them raging just beneath the surface. “because you make me feel alive,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “because i can’t stop thinking about you, even when i know i should.”
you stared at him, your mind racing, trying to make sense of the conflicting emotions swirling within you. you had always known that anton was different, that he would be a challenge, but you hadn’t anticipated this, hadn’t expected to be confronted with his raw, unfiltered need for you.
“you’re a fool,” you said finally, your voice sharp, cutting.
anton flinched at your words, but he didn’t back down. instead, he took another step closer, closing the distance between you until there was barely a breath of space between you.
“maybe,” he said, his voice steady, determined. “but i’m your fool.”
you felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, the sheer intensity of his devotion both exhilarating and terrifying. you had played this game a thousand times before, had manipulated countless others, but this—this was different. anton was different.
“you’re playing a dangerous game,” you said, your voice low, warning.
anton’s lips curved into a small, bitter smile. “i know,” he said, his voice soft, resigned. “but i’m already too far gone to stop.”
and in that moment, you knew it was true. anton wasn’t like the others. he wasn’t just another pawn on your board, another plaything to be discarded when you grew bored. he was something else, something more. and that realization sent a thrill of fear, and excitement, coursing through you.
he hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he was struggling to find the right words. “i can’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted finally, his voice raw with emotion. “you’re all i think about.”
you reached out, placing a hand on his cheek, your touch gentle but possessive. “and what do you think about, anton?”
his breath hitched at your touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment. “everything. your smile, your voice, the way you move. it’s driving me crazy.”
you leaned in closer, your lips just inches from his. “is that so?” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin.
he nodded, his eyes opening to meet yours. “yes. i can’t sleep, i can’t focus. all i want is to be near you, to make you happy.”
“then we’ll see how far you’re willing to go,” you said, your voice filled with a dangerous promise.
anton’s eyes locked onto yours, his gaze unwavering, and in that moment, you knew that whatever happened next, there was no going back.
the game was no longer just a game. it was something more, something darker, something that could destroy you both. and for the first time in a long time, you felt truly alive.
as the snow continued to fall outside, the two of you stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills, the fire in the hearth casting long shadows on the walls, the only sound the crackling of the flames and the faint whisper of the wind.
. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .
in the weeks that followed, your manipulation of anton became a carefully orchestrated dance, a twisted ballet where you led with a graceful, calculated precision, and anton followed, oblivious to the strings you pulled. each interaction was a deliberate step in this dark routine, with you guiding him ever deeper into the labyrinth of your control.
your tasks soon grew more intricate, more demanding. you asked him to dig up obscure references for your essays, to track down rare books that could only be found in forgotten corners of the city, to bring you your favorite coffee from a shop miles away from campus. each request was a thread in the web you wove around him, tightening your hold with every act of service.
anton never hesitated. his devotion to you was absolute, a blind, consuming need that drove him to fulfill your every whim without question. it was as if your presence had become a drug, one he couldn’t live without, and the more he did for you, the deeper his addiction grew. you could see it in his eyes, in the way he looked at you, as if you were the center of his universe, the very air he breathed.
as the days passed, you began to notice the subtle changes in him, changes that you observed with a detached amusement. anton’s once healthy frame grew gaunt, his cheeks hollowing out as he lost weight, the sharp angles of his bones more pronounced beneath his pale skin. dark circles formed under his eyes, a testament to the nights spent sleepless, his mind too consumed by thoughts of you to find rest.
his friends grew concerned, their worried glances and whispered questions following him wherever he went. “are you okay, anton?” they would ask, but he brushed them off with a forced smile, his thoughts always returning to you.
the sharp mind that had once been the pride of his teachers, the envy of his peers, now seemed solely focused on you, on the endless tasks and challenges you set before him. his world had shrunk, until it revolved around you alone.
one crisp afternoon, as the late sun cast a warm, golden hue over the campus, you decided it was time to push anton further. the chill in the air was sharp, a reminder of the winter, but inside the academy’s library, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of old books and the quiet hum of whispered conversations.
you found anton where you expected him, hunched over a thick volume of korean history, his eyes scanning the pages with a fervor that betrayed his exhaustion.
as you approached, he looked up, his gaze lighting up with that familiar, fervent intensity that had become so familiar to you. it was a look that both thrilled and repelled you, a reflection of the power you wielded over him.
“anton,” you said, your voice soft and sweet, a siren’s call that masked the sharpness of your intentions. “i need your help with something.”
he stood immediately, closing the book with a soft thud and giving you his full, undivided attention. “anything,” he said, his voice thick with longing, his eyes searching yours for any sign of approval.
you smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “there’s a fundraiser next week, and i need a partner for the opening dance. will you be my partner?”
his eyes widened in shock and elation, the emotions playing across his features like a silent movie. “of course,” he said quickly, almost too quickly. “i’d be honored.”
“good,” you replied, your smile widening just a fraction, enough to make his heart race. “meet me in the ballroom tonight at eight. we need to practice.”
that evening, the academy’s ballroom was a cathedral of opulence and grandeur. chandeliers hung from the high ceiling like glittering constellations, their crystal drops refracting light into a thousand tiny rainbows that danced across the polished marble floor. the scent of fresh flowers filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of waxed wood, a testament to the academy’s commitment to luxury and tradition.
you arrived at eight sharp, your entrance a vision of calculated perfection. anton was already there, of course, nervously adjusting his tie as he waited for you. his breath caught as you stepped into the room, the soft rustle of your gown the only sound in the vast, echoing space.
you had chosen a gown of deep crimson, a shade that matched the dark currents of the game you played, the color of blood and desire. it flowed around you like liquid silk, the fabric clinging to your form before cascading to the floor in a pool of rich, dark red. your hair was swept up in an elegant chignon, a few loose tendrils framing your face, and a simple diamond necklace adorned your neck, glittering against your porcelain skin like a single drop of ice.
“you’re early,” you said, your tone light and teasing, as if you hadn’t planned every detail of this encounter down to the second.
“i didn’t want to keep you waiting,” anton replied, his voice filled with a mix of awe and devotion that made your smile widen.
you crossed the room with a deliberate grace, each step measured, each movement designed to captivate. “shall we begin?” you asked, extending your hand to him, your fingers pale against the deep crimson of your gown.
he took your hand, his grip firm yet trembling slightly, the subtle tremor sending a shiver of satisfaction through you. you led him into the dance, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, a testament to the control you exerted over him. anton followed your lead with an intensity that bordered on reverence, his eyes never leaving yours, his focus entirely on you, as if the world beyond your shared steps had ceased to exist.
as the music swelled, you leaned in closer, your breath brushing against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “you’re doing well, anton,” you murmured, your voice a soft, seductive purr. “but you need to loosen up. let go of your fears.”
he nodded, his jaw clenching with determination, the tension in his body palpable beneath your touch. you could feel the rigid control he tried to maintain, the desperate need to please you, to be perfect for you. but you wanted more. you wanted to push him further, to see just how far he would go to prove his devotion.
“anton,” you said softly, your voice barely a whisper, a breath of wind in the stillness of the ballroom. “do you trust me?”
his eyes widened, and for a brief moment, you saw a flicker of uncertainty, a tiny crack in the facade of his devotion. but then he nodded, his expression resolute, his voice unwavering. “yes,” he said, the word carrying the weight of a promise, a vow.
“good,” you replied, your lips curving into a smile, a smile that was both a reward and a warning. “then close your eyes and follow my lead.”
he hesitated for the briefest of moments before obeying, his eyes fluttering shut, his trust in you absolute. with his eyes closed, anton’s other senses seemed to heighten, his body attuning to yours with an intensity that bordered on desperation. you could feel his breath quicken, the rapid rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand, his heartbeat pounding in his chest like the rhythm of the music, a rhythm that echoed the pulse of your own power over him.
you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear, your voice a soft caress, a velvet glove over a steel blade. “you’re mine, anton,” you whispered, the words wrapping around him like a chain. “you’ll do anything for me, won’t you?”
his breath hitched, a sharp intake of air that spoke of both fear and longing, and he nodded, his voice a ragged whisper, his will crumbling under the weight of your command. “yes.”
“good,” you murmured, a thrill of satisfaction coursing through you, a dark current that matched the crimson of your gown. “because i have another task for you.”
he opened his eyes then, his gaze locking onto yours with a desperation that was almost tangible, a need that radiated from him like heat. “anything,” he said, his voice filled with a desperate longing, a need to prove himself worthy of your attention.
you smiled, a slow, predatory smile, the smile of a hunter who knows the prey is already ensnared. “i need you to find out everything you can about professor kim. i have reason to believe he’s hiding something, and i need to know what it is.”
anton’s eyes darkened at your words, a flicker of something dangerous passing through them, a shadow of the man he was becoming under your influence. “i’ll find out,” he said, his voice firm, the resolve in his tone a reflection of the control you had over him.
you leaned back slightly, your smile widening, your satisfaction evident in the way your eyes glinted in the soft light of the chandeliers. “i knew i could count on you, anton,” you said, your voice a soft purr, a reward for his obedience.
as the music came to an end, you stepped back, breaking the connection between you, your movements fluid, graceful, a dancer stepping away from a completed performance. anton stood there, his chest heaving, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and devotion, his mind consumed with thoughts of you.
“same time tomorrow?” you asked, your tone casual, as if you hadn’t just tightened the chains of his obsession, as if this were just another dance, another game.
he nodded, his gaze never leaving yours, his heart still racing from the intensity of the moment. “yes,” he replied, his voice steady, but you could hear the undercurrent of desperation, the need to please you, to be everything you wanted him to be.
you turned and walked away, your steps light and graceful, each movement a calculated display of control and power. behind you, anton remained standing in the middle of the ballroom, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind consumed with thoughts of you, with the task you had given him.
the game was progressing perfectly, each move bringing you closer to your goal, and you reveled in the power you held over him, in the knowledge that anton was yours, body and soul, and that you had no intention of letting him go.
. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .
the power dynamics between you and anton had shifted to an almost surreal degree. what began as a subtle manipulation had evolved into a full-blown psychological entanglement, a dangerous dance where you were the undisputed maestro, and anton, the eager but unwitting puppet.
each interaction was a calculated move, each touch a deliberate action to tighten the threads of control around him. you reveled in the power you held, the way you could bend him to your will with nothing more than a smile or a whispered command.
the academy’s sprawling grounds, with its grandiose architecture and serene gardens, became the stage for your most intricate schemes. the cherry blossoms in the garden, once a symbol of delicate beauty, now seemed to echo the treacherous nature of your relationship with anton. their petals floated down like fragments of innocence lost, each one a testament to the corruption blossoming between you.
one afternoon, you sat on a stone bench beneath a weeping willow. its branches hung low, creating a curtain of green that shielded you from the prying eyes of others. anton approached with the usual mix of eagerness and trepidation, his eyes locked on you with an intensity that bordered on worshipful.
“anton,” you called softly, your voice a caress against the backdrop of the rustling leaves. “i need you to handle something for me.”
“of course,” he replied, his voice a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. he was so eager to please, so desperate for your approval, that it was almost painful to watch.
you leaned in slightly, letting the air between you become charged with unspoken expectations. “there’s a student, su-jin. she’s been trying to undermine me in class, and i need you to… persuade her to stop.”
anton’s face darkened at the mention of su-jin. you could see the conflict within him, but it was quickly overshadowed by his desire to comply with your wishes. “what should I do?”
you allowed a slow, satisfied smile to creep across your lips. “find out what she’s planning, and if necessary, convince her to leave me alone. use whatever means you deem necessary.”
his eyes widened with a mixture of shock and determination. “you can count on me.”
as anton walked away, you could see the way his shoulders stiffened with resolve. it was a dangerous game you were playing, but the thrill of exerting such power over him, of watching him bend to your will, was intoxicating. you knew that anton’s obsession with you would lead him down a darker path, but you were content to watch the descent with a detached fascination.
anton’s mental state began to deteriorate as his obsession grew. he became increasingly paranoid, his thoughts consumed by the idea that no one else deserved your attention. his once bright eyes took on a haunted look, and his usually calm demeanor was replaced by a nervous restlessness. he started to isolate himself from friends, pushing them away with brusque words and averted gazes. his world had narrowed to a singular focus— you.
one evening, as the sky turned a deep shade of indigo and the stars began to prick the velvet darkness, you were walking through the gardens again. anton followed a few paces behind, his gaze fixed on you like a shadow that never wavered. he had been quiet for days, his once vibrant conversations now reduced to terse, monosyllabic responses.
“anton,” you said, turning to face him as you paused near a fountain where the water gurgled softly, creating a soothing, rhythmic sound. “you’ve been so quiet lately. is everything alright?”
he looked up, his eyes flickering with a mixture of anxiety and something darker— a possessive intensity that you noted with a hint of amusement. “everything’s fine,” he said, though his voice trembled slightly. “i’ve just been… focused.”
you could feel the shift in his demeanor, a subtle but unmistakable tension in the air. “focused on what?”
he hesitated, his gaze drifting to the ground before meeting your eyes again. “on making sure that no one else gets in the way of what we have.”
you raised an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. “and what is it that we have, anton?”
he swallowed hard, his throat working as if the words were difficult to form. “i… i want to make sure you’re safe. that no one can harm you or distract you from… us.”
a shiver ran down your spine at the way he said “us,” the possessive undertone clear. you took a step closer, your eyes narrowing as you assessed his state of mind.
“anton, you know i appreciate your loyalty. but remember, you’re here to support me, not to control the people around me.”
he nodded, but the look in his eyes betrayed a different reality. the shadow of his darker side was beginning to surface more frequently. it was in the way he would flinch if he saw you talking to another student, the way his hands would clench into fists when you mentioned someone else’s name.
like when you conversed with a fellow student, your laughter ringing out in the courtyard, you caught anton’s gaze from across the lawn. his face was a mask of barely restrained fury, his eyes dark and stormy. the sight sent a thrill of dark satisfaction through you. you knew that you were pushing him to the brink, but the control you had over him was intoxicating.
afterward, as you walked through the campus, you found anton waiting for you by a secluded alcove. his expression was a volatile mix of anger and desperation.
“why were you talking to him?” he demanded, his voice low and harsh.
you stopped, turning to face him with a calm composure. “anton, it’s just a conversation. you have nothing to worry about.”
“nothing to worry about?” he spat, his eyes blazing. “i saw the way he looked at you. you were laughing with him, enjoying his attention. what about me?”
you took a deep breath, the thrill of his jealousy and anger washing over you like a wave. “anton, you need to calm down. you’re becoming irrational.”
“irrational?” he echoed, his voice trembling with a barely contained fury. “i’m trying to protect you! you don’t understand—”
“understand what?” you interrupted, stepping closer and placing a hand on his cheek. the touch was intended to soothe, but you could feel the tension beneath his skin. “anton, you’re losing control. you need to trust me.”
he flinched at your touch, a wave of conflicting emotions crashing over him. his eyes were wild, and for a moment, you could see the extent of his obsession, the way it had twisted into something darker.
“i don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i can’t lose you.”
you drew back slightly, the thrill of his turmoil invigorating you. “anton, you’re not losing me. but you need to focus on what’s important.”
his eyes searched yours, desperation evident in every line of his face. “i’ll do anything,” he said, his voice cracking. “just tell me what to do.”
you smiled, a smile that was both reassuring and chilling. “just remember, anton, your loyalty is what matters most. don’t let your feelings get in the way.”
this only spurred anton’s behavior to become increasingly erratic. he would often have vivid fantasies about you, his mind concocting elaborate scenarios where you were entirely his and no one else could share in your attention. these fantasies grew darker and more obsessive, painting a picture of a world where you were trapped in his own twisted vision of devotion.
one night, as the moon cast a silver sheen across the academy grounds, anton sat alone in his dorm room, his thoughts racing. the walls seemed to close in around him, and the quiet of the night was punctuated only by the sound of his own uneven breathing. he had been unable to sleep, his mind a chaotic swirl of images and emotions.
he imagined you, alone and vulnerable, with him as your sole protector. in his fantasies, you were completely dependent on him, your every move dictated by his will. the images were vivid, almost tangible— you sitting by his side, your hand in his, your eyes locked with his as he whispered promises of eternal devotion.
but these fantasies quickly twisted into darker visions, where he had to fight off other suitors with a ferocity that bordered on violence. in these dreams, he was ruthless, striking out with an intensity that mirrored the storm within him.
when he awoke, drenched in sweat, he could still feel the echoes of his dark fantasies, the haunting intensity of his own thoughts. he stared at the ceiling, his mind struggling to separate fantasy from reality. his heart pounded, the line between his desire and his actions becoming increasingly blurred.
the next day, when you encountered anton, his demeanor was a mask of calmness, but the turmoil beneath was palpable. he tried to hide his paranoia, but the tension in his posture and the shadow in his eyes spoke volumes. he watched you with a possessive gaze, his actions more calculated, his interactions with others strained.
“anton,” you said one afternoon as you found him standing near the fountain, his gaze following you intently. “is everything alright?”
he forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “everything’s fine,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “just… making sure everything is as it should be.”
you studied him, noting the way his eyes darted toward other students, the way his hands clenched into fists. you could feel the control you wielded over him, the way his obsession had morphed into something more dangerous. the thrill of manipulating him, of pushing him to the edge, was a dark pleasure you savored.
“anton,” you said, stepping closer and lowering your voice. “i need you to trust me. I don’t want to see you like this. It’s not healthy.”
his eyes met yours, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through his facade. “i just… want to protect you,” he said, his voice a mixture of anguish and resolve.
you reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “i know, and I appreciate it. but it’s creeping me out so i need you to stop, okay?”
he nodded, but the shadows in his eyes betrayed the internal struggle he faced. you knew that his descent into obsession was far from over, and as you watched him walk away, you could almost feel the weight of his darkness pressing down on him.
the games you played were dangerous and morally ambiguous, but they had become a twisted form of entertainment for you. you had pushed anton to the brink, watching with a mix of thrill and detachment as he spiraled into obsession. the power you held over him was intoxicating, and though you knew the consequences of your actions, the pleasure of manipulation was too alluring to resist.
. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .
the days continued to grow colder, the winter tightening its grip on seonghwa academy, transforming the once-golden landscape into a monochrome world of gray skies and snow-blanketed grounds. the chill seeped into the very bones of the school, into the ancient stone walls and the hearts of those within them, as if the academy itself were a living, breathing entity, feeding off the darkness that now hung heavy in the air.
you had been watching anton closely, more closely than ever, though you would never let him know it. there was a darkness in him that intrigued you, a shadow that had grown deeper, more pronounced since that night in your room. it was as if something had awakened in him, something raw and primal, and you could feel its presence lurking just beneath the surface of his carefully composed facade.
it had been a twisted tapestry of obsession, each thread woven with a careful hand, yet fraying at the edges with the weight of something darker. anton’s once-gentle demeanor, that quiet reserve you had once found so easy to manipulate, had slowly unraveled, revealing a shadowy core of obsession and fixation. what began as harmless devotion had curdled into something far more dangerous, an all-consuming fervor that twisted his thoughts and actions until they no longer resembled the man you had first ensnared.
the signs had always been there, lurking beneath the surface like cracks in a fragile facade. at first, they were subtle—a lingering gaze that held too much intensity, an eagerness to please that bordered on desperation. his words, once soft and measured, began to carry an undercurrent of something sharper, a hint of possessiveness that set your instincts on edge. but these were easy to dismiss, easy to overlook in the grander scheme of your game.
yet, as the days turned into weeks, those cracks deepened, splitting wide to reveal the depths of his obsession. his once kind eyes now burned with a fervor that was both unsettling and relentless, like a predator stalking its prey. the change in him was gradual, a slow, insidious transformation that you hadn’t anticipated, until one day you realized that the man before you was no longer the same anton you had once so effortlessly controlled.
what had begun as a game of manipulation had now spiraled into something far more dangerous. you had been playing with fire, testing the limits of his devotion, pushing him further and further, and now, those flames were ready to consume everything in their path. the air around him seemed charged, like the tense silence before a storm, the kind that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you could sense the shift in him, the way his presence felt heavier, more oppressive, as if the weight of his obsession had grown too large to contain.
but you didn’t question it. you didn’t need to. after all, whatever was driving anton, whatever darkness had taken root in his soul, it only served to deepen your control over him. and that was all that mattered.
it was a chilly evening, and the academy’s grand library, usually a sanctuary of quiet knowledge, felt different tonight. the air was thick with an unsettling tension. the shadows cast by the flickering lights danced ominously on the rows of ancient, leather-bound books. you had been here often, as much to avoid the prying eyes of others as to indulge in the hidden recesses of knowledge. tonight, however, your curiosity had led you down a path of discovery you hadn’t anticipated.
you were seated in a leather armchair near the back of the library, a book in hand, though your mind was far from the words on the page. instead, your thoughts were occupied by anton, by the strange, twisted game you had been playing with him, and by the gnawing curiosity that had begun to take hold of you.
it was then that you heard the door to the library creak open, the sound pulling you from your thoughts. you didn’t need to look up to know who it was. you could feel his presence, as you always could, a dark cloud that seemed to hang over him, shadowing his every step.
anton moved through the library with the same quiet grace that had always characterized him, but there was something different about him now, something that set your nerves on edge. you watched from the corner of your eye as he made his way toward the back of the library, his gaze fixed on something you couldn’t see.
as he drew closer, you noticed that his clothes were disheveled, more so than usual, his hair unkempt, the dark strands falling into his eyes in a way that only added to the air of disarray that clung to him. there was something in his eyes, too, something wild and untamed, a flicker of madness that sent a chill down your spine.
he stopped a few feet away from you, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that was almost suffocating. you met his stare, your expression carefully composed, though you could feel the unease building in the pit of your stomach.
“anton,” you said, your voice calm, measured. “what are you doing here?”
he didn’t answer right away. instead, he stood there, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths, as if he were trying to keep himself under control. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost a whisper, but there was an edge to it that made your skin prickle.
“i did something for you,” he said, his words clipped, precise.
you raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued despite the unease that was now thrumming through your veins. “oh?” you said, your tone light, almost teasing. “and what might that be?”
anton’s eyes darkened, the storm in them growing more intense, more dangerous. he took a step closer, his hand reaching into his coat pocket, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of fear, a fear that you hadn’t felt in a long time.
but then he pulled out a small, silver object, holding it out to you with a trembling hand. you looked at it, your heart skipping a beat as you realized what it was.
a locket. a delicate, ornate locket that you recognized immediately, because you had seen it around the neck of one of the students, a girl who had been the object of anton’s silent, simmering jealousy for weeks. she had been one of your pawns, someone you had used to stoke the fires of anton’s obsession, to push him further, to test the limits of his devotion to you.
and now, here it was, in his hand, the chain broken, the locket itself smeared with something dark, something that made your breath catch in your throat.
“anton,” you said slowly, carefully, as if speaking to a wild animal. “what did you do?”
he didn’t answer right away. instead, he looked down at the locket, his expression unreadable, before finally lifting his gaze to meet yours.
“i did it for you,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “she was in the way. she was trying to take you from me.”
your heart began to pound in your chest, a cold, creeping dread settling over you. “what did you do, anton?” you repeated, your voice sharper now, more insistent.
anton’s eyes flashed with something dark, something twisted, and he took another step closer, the locket still dangling from his fingers like a macabre trophy.
“i made sure she couldn’t take you from me,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “i made sure she would never come between us again.”
the realization hit you like a physical blow, the air leaving your lungs in a rush as the full extent of what anton had done sank in. the locket, the dark smears—blood, it was blood. he had killed her, that girl, that innocent pawn in your game, all because of his twisted, obsessive love for you.
you stared at him, your mind racing, trying to process the enormity of what had just happened. and yet, even as the horror of it all settled over you, you couldn’t help but feel a strange, twisted thrill of excitement, of power.
anton had killed for you. he had crossed a line, had stepped into the darkness, all in your name. and in that moment, you realized just how deeply you had ensnared him, how completely he had fallen under your spell.
but there was also a danger in it, a danger that you couldn’t ignore. anton was no longer just a pawn in your game. he was something else, something more dangerous, more unpredictable. and you knew that you would have to tread carefully if you were to maintain your control over him.
“anton,” you said, your voice low, soothing, as if you were trying to calm a wild animal. “you shouldn’t have done that.”
he blinked, his expression faltering for a moment, as if he were struggling to understand your words. “but i did it for you,” he repeated, his voice desperate, pleading. “i did it because i love you.”
you felt a cold, bitter laugh bubble up in your throat, but you forced it down, knowing that now was not the time for mockery. anton was on the edge, teetering on the brink of something dark and terrible, and you needed to pull him back, to regain control before it was too late.
“love?” you said, your voice soft, almost mocking. “you think this is love, anton? what you’ve done, what you’ve become—this isn’t love. it’s madness.”
his eyes widened, a flicker of pain flashing across his face, but it was quickly replaced by something darker, something more dangerous.
“no,” he said, his voice low, trembling with emotion. “no, you’re wrong. you don’t understand. everything i’ve done, i’ve done for you. because i can’t live without you. because i need you.”
you stared at him, your mind racing, trying to find the right words, the right approach to keep him from slipping further into the darkness. but even as you searched for a way to regain control, you could feel the situation spiraling out of your grasp, slipping through your fingers like sand.
“anton,” you said, your voice sharp, cutting through the thick tension in the air. “listen to me. you’ve gone too far. you’ve crossed a line, and there’s no going back. what you’ve done… it’s unforgivable.”
for a moment, he simply stared at you, his expression blank, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend what you were saying. but then, slowly, something shifted in his eyes, something dark and twisted, something that made your blood run cold.
“unforgivable?” he echoed, his voice low, almost a whisper. “but i did it for you. i did it because i love you. how can that be unforgivable?”
you shook your head, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to maintain your composure. “love isn’t supposed to be like this, anton. it’s not supposed to be… destructive.”
his expression twisted into something ugly, something full of pain and anger. “you’re wrong,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “you’re wrong. love is everything. it’s all that matters. and i would do anything—anything—to keep you. to make you mine.”
there was a desperation in his voice, a wildness that sent a shiver down your spine. you had pushed him too far, had played your game too well, and now you were faced with the consequences of your own actions.
but even as the fear gripped you, there was a part of you, a dark, twisted part, that couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement, a perverse satisfaction in knowing just how deeply you had ensnared him, how completely you had broken him.
“anton,” you said, your voice low, almost a whisper. “this has to stop. you have to let me go.”
his eyes flashed with something dark, something dangerous, and he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to grasp your arm with a grip that was almost painful.
“no,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “i can’t. i won’t. you’re mine. you belong to me.”
you felt a cold, creeping dread settle over you, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. anton wasn’t going to let you go. he was too far gone, too consumed by his obsession to see reason. and there was no telling what he might do, what lengths he might go to, to keep you.
“anton,” you said, your voice shaking slightly despite your best efforts to remain calm. “you need to let me go. this isn’t healthy. it’s not right.”
his grip on your arm tightened, his eyes blazing with a wild, desperate intensity. “i don’t care,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “i don’t care if it’s not right. i don’t care if it’s not healthy. i need you. and i won’t let you go. not ever.”
the words hung in the air like a dark, ominous cloud, the finality of them sending a shiver down your spine. you had always known that anton was different, that he was dangerous, but now, faced with the full extent of his madness, you realized just how precarious your situation had become.
you were trapped, ensnared in the very web you had so carefully woven, and there was no way out. anton’s obsession had consumed him, had driven him to the edge of sanity, and now, there was no telling what he might do, what lengths he might go to, to keep you.
“anton,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “please. let me go.”
but he only shook his head, his grip on your arm tightening, his eyes wild and desperate. “no,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “i can’t. i won’t. you’re mine. and i’ll do whatever it takes to keep you. whatever it takes.”
the words sent a chill down your spine, the cold, creeping dread settling over you like a heavy blanket. anton had crossed a line, had stepped into the darkness, and there was no going back. the game was over, and you had lost.
and in that moment, you realized just how dangerous obsession could be, just how easily it could consume and destroy. anton had been your pawn, your plaything, but now, he was something else, something darker, something that could destroy you both.
and there was no escape.
“anton,” you said, your voice trembling, your heart pounding in your chest. “this isn’t love. it’s madness.”
but he only smiled, a twisted, broken smile that sent a shiver down your spine, his grip on your arm like a vice, unrelenting and unforgiving.
“maybe,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “but it’s our madness.”
and in that moment, you knew that there was no going back, no escape from the darkness that had consumed you both. anton had become something else, something more dangerous, more terrifying, and there was no telling what he might do, what lengths he might go to, to keep you.
the snow continued to fall outside, the world outside the library quiet and still, as if holding its breath, waiting for the storm to break. and in the silence, you could hear the faint whisper of the wind, the crackling of the fire, and the pounding of your own heart, as you stood there, trapped in the darkness, with no way out.
and as the night closed in around you, you knew that this was only the beginning, the first step into a world of darkness and madness from which there would be no return. anton’s obsession had consumed him, and now, it would consume you both, dragging you down into the depths of despair, with no hope of escape.
and as you looked into anton’s eyes, those wild, desperate eyes that had once been so full of life, so full of promise, you knew that you had lost, that you had played your game too well, and now, you were paying the price.
the darkness had won.
#riize imagines#riize#riize x reader#riize imagine#riize scenarios#riize x imagine#riize smut#riize anton#riize angst#riize au#riize anton lee#anton imagines#anton x reader#anton#anton smut#riize lee chanyoung#riize chanyoung#lee chanyoung#chanyoung x reader#anton lee
122 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just Another Saturday Night....
Note: Happy Valentine's Day Ali @pedgito. I'm your Space Sisters secret Valentine!!! I hope you enjoy it!
Summary: Javi invites himself to help you babysit for Steve and Connie on Valentine's Day. What happens between you is completely unexpected.
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
Warnings/Tags: fluff, sexual tension, kissing, touching, Valentine's Day, friends to lovers, language (Javi, who else?), brief smoking, brief alcohol consumption, mutual pining, no significant age gap, brief use of Spanish, Javi and reader work in the same building but aren't co-workers. Reader understands Spanish, Reader is shorter than Javi and has hair long enough to tuck behind her ear, no other physical description of reader is given. The photos in the moodboard are for aesthetic only.
Word Count: ~5.5k
Other notes: This is my first published fic so please be nice! I am beyond nervous about putting this out there.
Special Thanks to @sawymredfox for the amazing moodboard, @beefrobeefcal for your advice, and @fallingforthearch for beta reading and squealing about this with me.
Divider by @saradika-graphics
It seemed everyone in this damn building was talking about their plans for Valentines Day. Everyone except for you. Today was just a normal Thursday. You shook your head, trying to clear your mind as you made your way through the bustle of the DEA headquarters. There was no use in giving it any more thought. Love was overrated anyway, right? You dropped off some paperwork to the director’s secretary and headed back to your own desk in the Embassy. The clacking keys of typewriters and sharp ringing of telephones hummed around you as you crossed the room, and you narrowly avoided a collision with an agent with his head stuck in file. The sound of your name being called across the bullpen made you stop in your tracks.
You scanned the room to see Steve Murphy, smiling at you from his office door. You smiled warmly in return and made your way over to him. Steve and his wife Connie had welcomed you with open arms when you first arrived in Colombia. They had taken you under their wing and the three of you had become close over the last 6 months, frequently sharing dinners at their apartment with their adopted daughter, Olivia, and occasionally Steve’s partner, Javier Peña.
Javi….he was always an enigma to you. He was handsome and a shameless flirt. He was quick with a line and a smile, and he used it to his advantage. There wasn’t a woman that worked in this building that hadn’t been subjected to his charms, and you were no exception. Of course, you had a thing for him. How could you not, with his aquiline nose and pouty lips that just begged to be kissed. You’d spent enough time with him to know him pretty well, but he held you at arm’s length, never letting you get too close. He seemed content to keep it that way and you let him. It’s not like you actually had a chance with him anyway.
“Hey Steve, what’s up?” You studied him as he grinned at you in that goofy way he always did. That smile reminded you of your brother and it made you miss him. Maybe you should call him and check in.
“I need a huge favor.” he asked with a soft smile.
You groaned softly. You hoped Connie wasn’t trying to set you up on another blind date. The last one was an absolute disaster.
“I don’t like the sound of this.” Your eyes narrowed. “What did you do this time?”
He chuckled and crossed his arms across his chest. “I didn’t do anything. I need a babysitter on Saturday. I was able to score reservations at that new restaurant downtown for Valentine’s Day. Connie’s been dying to try it since they opened, and I thought that it would be a nice surprise for her.”
You chuckled softly. “And you thought that your little spinster friend would be free on the most romantic night of the year?”
“You just haven’t mentioned any one special lately, so I thought you’d be free.” He cocked his head. “Why are you calling yourself a spinster, anyway? You’re gorgeous.”
The familiar combination of cigarette smoke and aftershave hit your nostrils before you saw him, and your breath hitched. Steve’s eyes darted over your shoulder, and you followed his gaze. “Ain’t that right, Javi?” The turquoise button-down shirt and tight dark wash jeans accentuated his biceps and his cinched waist. Javi appraised you, arching his brow and quickly raking up and down your body. “Sure, you’re at least a 7, princess.” He teased in the way only he could, flashing you that grin that made your knees weak. Your hands curled into fists at your sides.
Princess. That word single handedly made your blood boil and your stomach flip at the same time.
“Thanks, Javi.” you shot back, rolling your eyes. He moved closer to Steve’s office door, crowding you with his broad frame. “What are you two talking about anyway?”
“I’m trying to get our friend here to babysit for me and Connie on Saturday.” Steve grinned, his puppy dog eyes staring you down.
“I’ll babysit for you.” You said. “I’d love to spend some time with Olivia.”
Javi wasted no time and butted in. This was his chance to get you alone and he was going to take it.
Javi smiled, his eyes dancing. “Why don’t I join you? I don’t have any plans for V-day either. What’d ya say, princess? Want some company for babysitting duty?”
Your words failed you and you just looked at him, your eyes wide. His chocolate chip eyes stared down at you, waiting for you to speak.
“Ummm….” You stammered, your nails digging into your palms. “Sure. Why not?”
He gave you a crooked grin and nothing else.
“What time do you need me?” Your head swiveled back to Steve.
“Six o’clock?”
“I’ll be there.” You flashed a quick smile and turned on your heels.
“See ya then, princess.” Javi shouted to your retreating form.
You knocked on the apartment door at 5:50 pm, tapping your foot rhythmically as you wait. Olivia’s laughter seeped through the door and the tension drained from your shoulders. Connie’s smiling face greeted you a moment later. “Thank you so much for watching Liv for us.”
“It’s no problem at all. You know I love spending time with her.” You smiled warmly at her and walked over to the couch, making yourself comfortable. “You look amazing, by the way. You’re going to have to let me borrow that dress sometime.”
Steve came around the corner bouncing Olivia in his arms while she laughed. The sight made your chest tighten. “Look who’s here, Liv.” The little girl gave you the biggest smile and you stood to take her from her father’s arms.
“We’re going to have a lot of fun tonight, huh?”
Olivia giggled and grabbed for your necklace.
You and Connie chatted idly, while Steve headed into the kitchen. A knock on the door interrupted the conversation.
“Hey, Javi!” Steve ushered him into the living room.
Javi’s eyes settled on you, his hands clenching into fists then relaxing. His chin jutted forward almost imperceptibly. Even in a simple T-shirt and jeans, you still managed to make him want you even though he knew he shouldn’t.
Why did he have to wear that plaid shirt? You thought to yourself as he sat down in the armchair adjacent to the couch. The red and white plaid shirt stretched across the broad expanse of his shoulders. Your heart began to beat a little bit faster, and you bit the inside of your cheek.
“Babe…. we’d better head out or we’re going to be late.” Connie stood and you watched as Steve helped Connie with her coat. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck. You sighed quietly and looked away.
“Have a great time.” You take Olivia’s hand to wave at her parents. “Bye Mommy and Daddy.”
Connie leaned down and kissed Olivia’s cheek. “Be good for your Auntie and Uncle.” She looked at you. “Call us if you need anything.”
“There’s beer in the fridge.” Steve said, his eyes darting between you and Javi. “You two behave yourselves. That’s a brand-new couch you’re sitting on.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
The click of the door latching echoed in your ears, making you painfully aware of the fact you and Javi were alone. The television droned in the background as the two of you looked at each other.
“I…” you both start. The sound of your combined nervous laughter made Olivia join in with her own forced laugh, breaking some of the awkward tension that had been building between you. Your eyes snap back to Javi as he clears his throat.
“You first.” His lips lift into a crooked grin.
“I was just going to say that I’m surprised that you were serious about babysitting with me tonight. I thought you’d have a hot date tonight.” He hadn’t mentioned that he had been seeing anyone lately, but maybe he was just keeping it quiet for now.
His throaty chuckle filled your ears. “Why would I want to shell out big bucks on Valentine’s Day when I get to have two pretty girls all to myself tonight?” He teased. His trademark smirk flashed across his face, but his eyes betrayed him with a softness that made the blood rush directly to your cheeks. His eyes flitted away from yours.
You opened your mouth to ask him what he was about to say but Olivia had other plans. She grabbed at your shirt and let out a whine. You realized she was probably hungry. Connie had told you she’d prepared Liv’s dinner and put it in the fridge. “You hungry, bug?” Her babbles confirmed your suspicions, and you sat her on the floor in front of her toys while you warmed up her dinner.
Although the night had started awkwardly, you and Javi settled into comfortable conversation. The pizza he’d ordered had just been delivered and you put Olivia in her highchair with her own dinner in front of her.
“The pizza here is good.” You told him as he took a bite of his slice, “but it’s got nothing on the pizza back home.”
His brow arched. “Oh yeah?”
You never talked about your home much. The subject never really came up in conversation between the two of you.
“Yeah.” You said with a smirk. “There’s this small pizza joint there…. It’s the best pizza in the world. I would fight anyone on that.”
The sound of his chuckle reverberated through your entire body and his eyes settled on you. “That’s pretty big talk, maybe I’ll have to try it sometime.” He finished his slice and wiped his hands on a napkin. “Anything else special about your hometown?”
You told him more about your hometown, and he told you about Laredo as you finished eating. Olivia, never one to sit still for long, voiced her impatience and you lifted her from her highchair.
“I’ll clean up.” he volunteered, causing you to raise your eyebrows.
“Don’t look so surprised.” he smirked.
You laughed and adjusted Olivia on your hip. “If you insist. Liv and I will be playing in the living room.”
You spread some toys out on the living room floor and sat Olivia down. You stretched out on the floor, stacking some blocks in a pyramid. Olivia babbled and knocked them down, causing you to laugh softly. The sound of his footsteps made you both look up at him. Olivia grabbed a block and held it out to him. “You want Uncle Javi to play? Say ‘Come play with me, Uncle Javi’” Your eyes drifted up to meet his, your eyes twinkling at the double meaning behind those words.
Javi’s hands immediately went to his hips, his left knee jutting out slightly. His eyes darkened as his tongue pressed against his cheek. His eyes darted to the floor then back at you. You smirked as he turned away, your confidence soaring at the fact that you’d managed to rattle him, even if it was only a little. “Maybe Uncle Javi needs a minute.”
Javi stood with his back to you, willing himself to calm down; He wasn’t a man to get flustered easily. The idea of playing with you made him hard. He thought about football…..the amount of paperwork on his desk….anything to stop thinking about you.
A few moments later, he spun back around with the cool, confident mask firmly back in place. He didn’t acknowledge what had just passed between you and you let it slide, not wanting to push your luck. He sat down on the floor with you and picked up a block, smiling at Olivia.
The three of you played on the floor, you and Javi taking turns with the blocks and watching Olivia squeal with delight as she knocked them down. You wondered if you would ever have this……the man and the baby. Maybe it wasn’t in the cards for you. Maybe you were always meant to be on the outside looking in.
Olivia’s yawn snapped you from your thoughts. You smiled as Olivia pouted and rubbed her eyes. “Looks like someone’s getting sleepy.” You sat up and gathered the little girl into your arms. “Let’s get you to bed, little one.” A warm feeling flowed through you as Olivia nestled her head into your shoulder. You cuddled her closer, relishing the feeling of someone needing you.
As you walked the hall to her room, she began to cry. Soft sobs filled your ears, and it broke your heart. “Hey, it’s okay babygirl.” You tried your best to soothe her as you bounced her lightly in your arms. Her sobs only grew louder as you paced her room, murmuring soft words into her ear. It seemed the more you tried, the louder she got. You tried everything you could think of, but nothing seemed to help. The sound of her cries made your stomach drop. You tried to think about what Connie would do if she were here as Olivia’s wails grew even louder. “I know I’m not your mama, but I’m trying kiddo.” Panic gripped you as you struggled to calm her. It shouldn’t be this hard to calm a crying baby, right? You couldn’t just let her continue to cry like this, you had to do something, but you were at a loss. Tears stung your eyes as you desperately racked your brain for the magical solution to your problem.
Javi silently watched you as struggled in vain to soothe Olivia. The nightlight in the corner cast a soft glow over you, highlighting your features in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. You looked beautiful holding a child in your arms, even if that child was currently wailing in your ear. It reminded him of a life he could have had if he had done things differently. A life that he still wanted but was afraid to reach for. He lived in a dangerous world, and he couldn’t ask someone, ask you, to sign up for that; but fuck if he didn’t want to.
“Do you think I could try?” Javi’s voice carried over the sound of Olivia’s cries. A wave of relief washed over you as you saw his unmistakeable frame leaning against the doorway.
“Please….” You said as you handed Olivia to him. “I’m out of ideas.”
“What seems to be the problem here, bebecita?” he cooed. “Did your auntie pinch you?” He chuckled softly at his own joke. Olivia wailed even louder, clearly not impressed by his attempt at humor.
You leaned against the wall as he paced the small room, bouncing the Olivia in his arms. He spoke to her softly, murmuring sweet words in Spanish. Olivia seemed to respond to him, her wails lessening in intensity. The tension you were holding in your shoulders began to slowly melt away and you closed your eyes.
“Duermete mi nino (sleep my child)…..duermete mi amor (sleep my love)…..” Javi crooned quietly.
Your eyes immediately snapped open. He was singing to her. Your chest tightened as the words of the lullaby floated to your ears. Holding a baby looks so good on him. The tenderness in his voice was unexpected and you ached to know that side of him. The image of Javi holding a child the two of you created danced in your head as he continued to sing slightly offkey. You tried to shake the image from your head, but it was no use, it was seared into your brain.
“Duermete pedazo de mi corazon (sleep little piece of my heart)….” Olivia was fast asleep on his shoulder by the time he finished the song. He gently laid her in her crib, covering her with a blanket. He looked to you, pressing a thick finger to his lips and motioned toward the door. The two of you quietly crept out of the room, closing the door behind you.
You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face as the two of you plopped down onto the couch.
“Why are you smiling like that?” He asked. His eyes held a look you’d never seen from him before.
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the heat rising to your cheeks. “What are you talking about?”
He smirked at you, making your face heat up even more. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, princess. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
You looked away for just a moment before meeting his gaze again. “You were so good with her. Where did you learn to do that?” His smile made you want to lean in and kiss him, but you held back.
“I grew up in a large family, lots of cousins. There were always babies around.” His eyes fell to the floor. “My mom used to sing that song to me and my little sister when we were little.” The raucous melody of the cartoons you had on for Olivia cut sharply through the sudden shift in your conversation.
“It was a beautiful song.” You offer, not knowing exactly what to say. That was the most personal thing he’d ever shared with you. The silence lingered as you struggled to come up with the perfect thing to say to cut the tension in the room. “Even if it was offkey.”
His eyes jerked up to meet yours, his signature smirk plastered to his face. “You think you could do better?” he teased. Laughter drowned out the din of the television. “Probably not.” You admitted.
You let go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your heart raced a little bit faster at the realization of how close you came to confessing your feelings. Did you see something in his eyes before he looked away? You couldn’t be sure, and you certainly weren’t going to ask. You settled back into your seat on the couch and searched for the remote. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough cartoons for a while.”
Javi’s large hand engulfed the remote as he held it up. “Found it.” You immediately reached for it, but he held it out of your grasp. “Finder’s keepers, princess.” he teased. “I’m choosing what we watch.”
Your bottom lip jutted out and you narrowed your eyes. For a split second, you contemplated trying to fight him for it, but your head won out in the end. Sinking back into the couch, you admitted defeat. “Fine” you pouted, “just don’t pick anything stupid, okay?”
He laughed, the sound filling your stomach with butterflies. The smirk plastered to his face as he started flipping channels.
“I’m grabbing a beer.” You stood from the couch, stretching your arms above your head. “You want one?”
You notice his eyes on you and quickly lowered your arms, suddenly aware that your shirt was riding up, giving him the perfect view of your stomach.
He noticed that you noticed, and he cleared his throat, dragging his eyes away from your body. “I’d love one, thanks.”
Javi let out a deep breath. He’d come so close to telling you how much he wanted you. He wanted to take you in his arms and show you just how deeply he felt for you. That was his plan when he showed up tonight, but now that he was so close to you; he was chickening out. He’d only hurt you in the end, he’d find a way to mess it up.
You returned with two cold beers, and you offer him a bottle. Your fingers brush against his, sending sparks through your body. Settling back into the couch, you tucked your legs under you and took a long drag from your bottle. The cool liquid slides down your throat easily as you try to focus your attention on the television. He finally settled on something and leaned back into the couch. His legs deliciously spread wide, dangerously close to yours despite the distance between you. The heat was radiating from his body, and you struggled to maintain your focus on the movie he chose.
The two of you watched in silence, drinking your beer. It’s comfortable in a strange way and you find yourself wanting more of this. Just being in each other’s presence, not needing words. You could almost imagine this being a normal evening at home, curled up next to him on the couch with your head on his shoulder.
His laugh snaps you from your thoughts. Your attention is drawn back to the movie and it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen.
“You actually like this movie?” You grimace at the absurd scene on the screen.
“How can you not like this movie? It’s a goddamn classic!” He took a long drag from his beer and peered at you over the bottle.
Your brow furrowed. “That’s debatable, but whatever you say, Javi.”
“Just give it a chance, princess. It gets better, I promise.”
A playful scoff erupts from your lips. “It better or I’m never letting you pick the movie again.” The heat rises to your cheeks again. This isn’t a date and your eyes dart toward him to see his reaction. His eyes were focused on the screen, but his moustache twitched slightly. You bit your lip and prayed he wouldn’t say anything. He didn’t but you could’ve sworn he moved a little closer to you.
The credits had barely started to roll when you snatched the remote of his thigh. “My turn!” Your lips curve into a playful smirk as you point the remote at the television. He reached for the remote and you swat his hand away.
“Oh….so that’s how it’s going to be.” He smirked back at you.
You weren’t going to back down, even though you knew he could easily wrestle it away from you if he wanted. “Yep.” You responded; the cockiness dripped from the word.
His jaw twitched and his eyebrows raised. Without warning, he leaned forward and grabbed for the remote. You stopped him with a hand to his chest and tsked. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to share?” she teased. His eyes narrowed as you laughed.
“You’re asking for it, princess…..I fight dirty.” A devilish smirk formed on his lips.
“Ooooh, I’m so scared.” You rolled your eyes knowing that the size difference between you meant you didn’t stand a chance but part of you wanted to see what he would do.
Without warning, he pounced. He reached out for the remote again and somehow you kept it just out of his reach. The sound of your laughter filled the room. His tongue darted out to wet his full lips and then he descended on you.
He grabbed you by the waist and tickled you. Your shriek pierced the silence, and you covered your mouth to keep from walking up Olivia. He was relentless as he leaned into you, pinning your back against the armrest, tickling you mercilessly. You pulled your hand away from your mouth, laughing and struggling to breathe.
“Javi, please….” you laugh as you squirmed in his grasp.
“Oh, now you want mercy?” he teased, tickling you even harder with a smirk on his face.
“Okay, okay. You win. I give up……I give up!” Your breath is ragged, and tears leak from your eyes from laughing so hard.
You suck in a deep breath as he finally stops tickling you, but he doesn’t move away. He had you caged in with his muscular arms. He just stared at you, and you found it impossible to hold his intense gaze. You can feel the heat radiating from his body. His lips, so soft and full, were close enough to yours to feel his breath against your cheeks. His hand cupped your cheek and suddenly his lips were on yours. You froze, unable to process what was happening and he pulled back. His brow furrowed and his brown eyes searched your wide eyes.
“What are you doing?” You weakly croaked out.
Javi chuckled softly and smirked. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Your face burns with heat. What an idiotic thing to say. Of course you know what he’s doing. What you want to know is why, but your pride keeps you from asking. You already knew the answer.
“Haven’t you noticed the way I flirt with you is different from the way I flirt with the other women at the office?” His voice is low and husky and for once he’s the one having a hard time keeping your gaze.
You shook your head slowly and your brows furrowed. Maybe you had noticed, but you thought it was because he could never possibly be interested in you romantically. You never let yourself entertain the thought of him wanting you in that way.
“It’s because you’re not like them, princess…. you’re different.” The corner of his mouth twitched into a crooked grin. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
You blinked rapidly, thinking that you’re imagining this. You’ve been wanting to hear these words for so long. Suddenly, it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room and your lungs fight for oxygen.
“Javi….” He immediately cut you off with a finger to your lips.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he exhaled loudly through nose. He shouldn’t tell you this, but it’s too late. He’s already kissed you once and now he wants more; he’s too far gone.
“Just let me say this, please.” You watch his eyes close for a moment, then open again; His brown eyes intensely focused on you. “I have feelings for you, princess……. I want to give you everything.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Would you give me that chance?” His voice is pleading, bordering on desperate.
You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. You had wanted this for so long and now it was finally happening. The slight hum from the baby monitor filled the room as you continued to stare at each other. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
His thumb brushed your bottom lip as he looked into your eyes. Your skin tingled with the sensation, and you somehow resisted the urge to take the thick digit into your mouth and suck it. The rise and fall of your chest matched the pounding of your heart as he slowly leaned in and captured your lips with his.
His tongue touched your lips, and you parted them without a second thought, allowing him access to your mouth.
This feels like heaven. You had dreamt about what it would feel like to kiss him and the reality is better than you could have ever imagined. His kiss was surprisingly gentle, his soft tongue probed your mouth with a quiet intensity that made you throb for more.
His large hand cupped the back of your head as he gently pushed you down into the couch. His breath was quick and heavy as he leaned into you. His nose pressed against you as he deepened the kiss, pushing you further underneath him.
The rest of the world was completely forgotten as you pulled him even closer to you, snaking your fingers into his dark hair. Your tongues danced to a perfect rhythm as you both lost yourself in desire.
His hand found the hem of your shirt and his fingers slowly crept under the fabric. A soft moan escaped you as he finally came into contact with your bare skin. His calloused fingers skated across the smooth skin of your stomach, brushing across your ribcage, moving higher at a painfully slow pace surely designed to drive you insane.
The taste of the cherries mixed with the bitterness of the beer on your lips made his head swim. The way you had parted your lips for his tongue......God, he wanted to devour you. He wanted to take you right here on this couch and claim you as his.
He settled into the cradle of your thighs, his growing bulge pressing firmly against your aching heat. “Fuck, cariño.” The words left his lips in a breathy whisper, the want blanketing you like a thick fog blinding you to anything other than him. Your tongue licked into his mouth hungrily, almost desperately. His tongue pushed back against yours with equal force, letting you know he was just as much into this as you were. The ornamental clock on the wall ticking to the pace of your breathing as you fell deeper under his spell.
Javi’s thick fingers traced the lace of your bra, the thin material leaving little between his hand and your skin. Your breath faltered as his thumb brushed across your nipple until it sharpened under his ministrations. He quietly moaned his approval into your mouth along with a more forceful thrust of his tongue. Your back arched, pushing your body into his hand…..the desire pooling at your core.
Neither one of you heard the click of the latch as the front door swung open.
“Oh, fuck!” Steve’s voice brought you both crashing back to reality.
Javi’s head snapped up, his eyes wide and mouth agape. You scrambled out from underneath him, tugging at your shirt in a desperate attempt to cover up.
Steve chuckled and shook his head. His eyes danced between the two of you and he smirked. “I knew you two fuckers wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off each other.” His keys clanked against the bowl, and he shot a glance at Connie trying to suppress her giggles. “There better not be any cum stains on my couch.”
Javi’s jaw twitched as he moved away from you but otherwise, he was the picture of calm, not a shred of embarrassment shown on his beautiful face. You, on the other hand, were a different story. Your face burned as your eyes bored holes into the floor. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at Connie or Steve, even though the smile on your face could have lit up the darkest night. You were embarrassed about being caught but you didn’t regret a single moment of what happened between you and Javi on that couch. You swallowed your feelings of embarrassment and lifted your chin. You weren’t a teenager who’d just been caught making out with your boyfriend by your parents, you were an adult and you had nothing to be ashamed of.
“Did you enjoy the restaurant?” You asked Connie, changing the subject to calm your racing heart.
“Oh my god, it was amazing! The food was ridiculous. You would love it.” Her eyes darted to Javi and the subtle raise of her brow didn’t go unnoticed by you.
“I’m glad you had such a great time.” The two of you chatted briefly about how Olivia did throughout the night. Your eyes darted toward Javi and Steve, the two of them engrossed in their own conversation.
You grabbed your purse and called out to Steve, telling him you’d see him at work on Monday.
“Do I see double dates in our future?” Connie asked quietly as the two of you hugged.
You laughed softly. “Maybe?” Your eyes darted to Javi and the two of you locked eyes for a brief moment.
Your eyes drifted back to the couch. The heat of the moment you and Javi shared spreading through your body like smoldering embers. Your eyes fell on Javi one last time, his lips twitched into a crooked grin.
“I guess I should get out of here too.” Javi clapped Steve on the shoulder. “I’ll walk you out.”
He pecked Connie on the cheek and opened the door, allowing you to exit first. His hand rested gently at the small of your back as he guided you toward the stairs.
“You know, Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet Princess.” Javi whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.
The warmth of his hand at your back made your skin tingle. “No, I guess it’s not.” Your lips twisted into a small smirk.
When you reached your car, he grabbed you by the waist spinning you around to face him, his eyes intense with desire. “I’m not ready to stop celebrating.”
Your breath hitched in your throat as he pressed his body against yours. “Me either.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away just enough to look at you.
“My place.” His voice was rough with desire. It wasn’t a question; it was a statement.
You slowly nodded, not wanting to seem too eager. He brushed his lips against yours one last time before releasing you from his grip and walking toward his own car; pausing momentarily to tilt his head to light a cigarette.
Was this the start of something? You had no idea…..but you were damn sure going to find out.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fandom#javier peña x reader#pedrostories#fluff#space sisters secret valentine 2024#javier peña fanfiction#narcos#first time fic writer#narcos fanfiction
366 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unwind.
*Images are from Pinterest and are used for aesthetics only.
Pairing: Boyfriend!Dieter Bravo x f!reader (afab)
Word count: 4.1k (18+) MINORS DNI!
Summary: Your boyfriend, Dieter, has come home early from a project. Hoping to surprise you, he instead gets a surprise of his own when he discovers what you like to do unwind alone from a long day.
Notes/warnings: Smut, fluff, DUB-CON (one party is under the influence of ouid but they are both very into it), established relationship, accidental pervy!Dieter, accidental exhibitionism, pussy drunk Dieter, masturbation (f and m), sex toys, descriptions of smoking the devils lettuce, mentions of other drugs, porn with little plot, oral (f!receiving), piv sex, cumplay, they are both just super horny and sweet for each other, swearing, no y/n.
a/n: My first Dieter fic, I can’t remember really where or when I got the idea for this fic, but I knew it just screamed Dieter. This is probably quite up there with the filthiest thing i've written, and i'm not sorry, lol. Also, I apologise for my very long absence in posting writing. Life just got the best of me, and I lost all motivation pretty much to write. Ngl I don't think this is my best work, cause I'm a little rusty but it's fun and I enjoyed writing it. But anyway, I hope y'all enjoy, and any interactions with my posts mean the world to me. Love yall so much! <3
*******
Now that his months-long project had wrapped up early, all Dieter wanted to do was surprise you. The both of you had long played the game of hiding behind corners and hiding in all sorts of spots to try and scare each other, all throughout your relationship.
But more often than not, it was you that made his heart jump out his chest, and a long list of swear words leave his mouth as he over-dramatically clutched his chest. To which you always laughed so hard you cried a little at another successful scare and his reaction. “I'll get you next time.” he mumbles, under his breath, a cheeky grin on his handsome face as he plans when best to get you back.
So now, with an upper hand, he was hoping that he could give you a big fright and jump out of your closet when you least expect it. But what happened was so much more surprising.
You had just gotten back to your shared apartment after what felt like the longest week of your life. You had been drowning in deadlines at work and were so glad that it was friday evening so you could finally get a proper break. After ‘gracefully’ hanging up your jacket on the hooks near the front door and tossing your keys into the bowl on the entryway table, you immediately take off your bra as you walk into your apartment. Throwing it on the back of one of the barstools sitting in front of your kitchen island.
A loud sigh exhaling from your mouth as the pressure is released from your sore shoulders. It had been a long day at work before you ran around afterwards, getting a whole bunch of errands done that you had been putting off. So you were exhausted and understandably so.
You kick off your shoes as you walk through the messy apartment, not bothering to put them away where they belong or tidy up the growing mess just yet. No, first you need to unwind from the long ass week you had. Besides, the weekend started tomorrow, and you would have plenty of time to clean up then and before Dieter came back a week and a half from now.
You sighed again sadly thinking about your boyfriend. God, you missed him. He had been gone about 3 months now, and each day didn't get any easier. When the two of you were together, you were attached at the hip. Spending all the time you could together; talking, laughing, cuddling and fucking.
So it was quite a change the last few months going from spending almost all your time with your favourite person to almost none, except the few short calls Dieter managed to find time to have with you amongst his very busy schedule.
You tried to remind yourself of the fact that Dieter would be back before you knew it, and then you could once again spend all the much needed time together that you wanted.
You opened your fridge looking for a snack. You could have to tie your over till dinner that you would order yourself later, a treat for the end of a busy week.
You picked a few string cheese packets from the chilly shelves of your fridge before closing it shut with your hip as you walked off into your living room. Sitting down with a big “oof” on your couch and immediately sinking deep into the plush cushions as far as you could.
Dieter's heart was beating fast as he watched you through the horizontal slats of the storage closet door. He waited with baited breath, trying to find the perfect time to jump out and give you both the scare and surprise of a lifetime. He had been lucky enough to arrive an hour or so before you got home, which gave him plenty of time to get ready and pick the best hiding spot before you arrived.
He bites his lip, trying to hold back the chuckles wanting to escape as he imagined your hopefully soon to be shocked face. He watches as you get comfy on the couch and can’t help but look at you with adoration, even with dark circles under your eyes and your hair slightly untamed, you looked like a dream, the prettiest thing he has seen.
You quickly finish your cheese sticks, hungrier than you thought you were, and toss the wrappers on the coffee table. Yet another thing to be cleaned up tomorrow. You let out a long yawn and stretched your arms above your head. A cheeky smile graces your mouth as you realise how you're going to spend the rest of your night unwinding.
You waste no time in reaching into the draws of your coffee table before you and pulling out a dark green bong with small red flowers decorating it that Dieter got you for your birthday last year. You put it down the top of the coffee table briefly as you pull out a matching glass box with your stash in it and a red grinder.
Your fingers are working swiftly in their practiced work as you get your first cone ready. You pull out your black zippo lighter with your and Dieters' initials and the day the two of you started dating engraved on the front. You flick your thumb over the flint wheel a few times until it ignites. You take in a fraction of a breath before putting your mouth on the end of the glass tube, tilted towards you.
Holding the flame over dried grounds, watching as the white smoke slowly crawls up the neck of the bong. You let the smoke enter your lungs, filling you with warmth.
Your lips only disconnect when all the smoke is gone and you breathe in a little of fresh air. You hold it in your mouth for a few seconds before you tilt your head back and exhale all the hazy smoke. Your loose fist covers your mouth when you let a small cough.
You decide to do one more hit before you put down the ‘vase’ and let your head rest against the center of the back of the couch. Your legs spread wide, carelessly, as you wait for the drug to slowly take its effects. You groan as you lie back on the couch with a mouthful of smoke. You tilt your head up to look up at the ceiling as you let the hazy white cloud float from your parted lips.
Reaching down beside you, your fingers find something from out under your couch, a rectangle box. You open it to reveal a matte purple 8 inch, life-like, dildo. Fit with veins, balls at the base, and all. Your mouth waters just from the sight.
You have been extremely horny as of late. You always are when Dieter goes away for long periods of time, and you don’t have him to give you toe-curling orgasms all the time. You can never make yourself cum quite as hard as Dieter can make you come, but not from lack of trying. You lazily scoot down the couch a bit so you can take your pants and underwear off.
Dieter eyes bulge in head when he realises what you about to do and he swears his heart skips a beat when he sees that you're wearing his boxer briefs, even more so when he sees a glistening line of arousal, saturating them. He palms his now fully erect cock through his jeans, as his eyes connect with your glistening folds.
You take the hefty dildo out of the box and half haphazardly toss the container to the ground. Your breath hitches in your throat as you make quite work of sliding it through your folds, the tip catches deliciously on your clit.
You toss it to the side for a quick sec and reach down to your bong on the coffee table, after taking another cone you put it back on the table and grab the remote of the table, flicking on the tv and putting on one of your favourite vibey sex playlists on spotify on.
You sigh as you lean back and you take off your work shirt, leaving you in nothing but a flimsy old tank top, which you nipples prominently stick out of and some cosy socks. You pull your breasts out of your shirt and start groping yourself while watching the screen playing at a low volume, with hazy eyes.
You soon pick the silicone dick up again and slowly tease yourself by tracing around your lips and through your dripping seam. Your head lulls on the back of the couch. You tease around your aching hole with the tip before pushing in ever so slightly. Your eyes roll back for a second as you moan at the slight stretch. “D-dieter.” You softly call out.
His eyes bulge out of his sockets watching you, his hand unconsciously reaching down under the elastic of his pants to feel his rock-hard erection. He swipes his thumb over his weeping tip and has to bite back a groan.
You pump in so slowly, only till it reaches halfway before you pull it out further again. You continue this to help work yourself open.
He watches you intently, stroking himself to the slow rhythm youv’e set for fucking yourself. He uses his other hand to pinch his base every few minutes, to keep from blowing his load, so close just from the sight of you.
God, he doesnt even care about scaring and surprising you anymore, all he cares about is watching you as you fuck your self, quietly calling out his name as you take your time in getting to your release. He has half a mind to just jump out now and fuck you himself but the sight of you spread out for him, caught up in your own little pleasure-filled world is a sight to good to be true.
He studies your form like he doesn't know it like the back of his hand, like he hasn't spent hours upon hours coaxing the prettiest little moans and whimpers from you, caressing over every single inch of you.
His eyes will never grow tired of the sight of you, your centre gushing with arousal, your eyes fighting to stay open, your mouth on the other hand, fighting to stay closed as a beautifully orchestrated ensemble of curses, moans, groans and his name come flooding out of your mouth.
His mouth waters as the ring of your arousal grows thicker around the base of the silicone cock. He missed the taste of you so much, while he was away. He loved spending hours between your legs, until you were shaking and overstimulated and had to beg him to stop. Crying out “Dieter! Please!” as you struggled to push away his starved mouth.
Your head is feeling quite light now, and the pleasure is rushing through your veins as you increase the speed of your strokes. You keep chanting Dieter’s name, over and over again, softly as if it will summon him somehow. Well shit, maybe it does.
Before he even realises what he is doing, his hand is fumbling for the doorknob of the closet, and he is stepping out, sweaty, and disheveled, all just from watching you. Your heart stops for a second as you hear the closet door near you open, your brain unable to come up with any sane reasonings until Dieter walks out flushed and sheepishly in a trance, consumed by his love and lust for you.
“Dieter?” You whisper, shocked to your core, that he is standing in front of you and still not entirely convinced that he isn't a hallucination caused by your hornyness and longing for him. And also maybe the drugs too.
He swallows harshly, his throat dry. All the liquids in his body seemingly have traveled lower in anticipation. You're about to jump up from the couch and squeeze him till his ribs break, but he beats you to it, sinking to the floor in front of you and hugging your calves tightly. As much as you missed your baby, you can't help but feel a little awkward, having been caught masturbating and still with the dildo between your legs, no doubt.
Before you can even clear your throat and try to explain yourself, Dieter starts kissing along the tops of your thighs, up your stomach, then sternum, up your throat till his lips lock onto yours. He kisses you with such meaning and passion as he tries and conveys all the feeling of how much he missed you and is so glad to see you now into a single kiss
“God. I. Missed.You. So. Much. Baby.” He says in between quick pecks before once again consuming your mouth with his own, trying to make up for all that lost time he wasn't able to taste your lips on his.
You break the kiss with a gasp, looking down to your legs where Dieter is spreading them to see the current state of your throbbing pussy. “Fuck and it sure looks like she missed me too, huh sweetheart. Just oozing and weeping, begging for my touch. Ain't that right baby?” He lovingly teases.
You grin and spread your legs even further to let him get an even better look at you swollen, glistening folds, still clenching around the girth of the dildo. He reaches his hand up between your legs and pulls the toy in and out of you slowly, eliciting a whimper from you.
“Fuck.” He groans, completely enthralled by the sight of you, and the growing creamy ring of arousal you have created around the base of the cock. He continues to slowly pump it in and out of you, as you squirm above him, your once lost orgasm now coming so close to grasp again.
“Dieter...please.” You croon, begging him not to stop as you feel the edge of your high starts to wash over you.
“Atta girl, fuck just like that. Cum for me baby.” He softly demands, as he works the now shiny dildo hard, fast and deep into your cunt. He sits up a bit on his knees and hovers over you.
Leaning his head to the side he starts to suck on your pulsing clit. His eyes roaming between your leaking hole and trembling thighs, up to your red, cloudy eyes struggling to stay open with your brows furrowed above them. Your mouth agape, curses and whimpers as your orgasm hits you full force.
He watches with blown eyes, mouth hanging open, nearly drooling at the sight of your back arching off the couch, as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. He slowly pumps the cock in and out of you, prolonging your high till your legs close firmly around it. He carefully opens them back enough so he can pull out the cock.
He palms himself as he inspects the aftermath, mouth watering from the sight and smell of your creamy residue slathered upon the tip to the flared base of the slick silicone. He sticks out his tongue and brings the base, where most of the cum has gathered in a band round the bottom, to his mouth. You watch stunned and too aroused to speak as he licks it clean of your sweet drippings.
“God baby, missed the taste of this sweet pussy.” he groans. You clench around nothing as you watch him, eyes fluttering behind closed lids, messily tongue the silicone like one might lick brownie or cookie batter of a spatula.
After he finishes with the lower half, his lips pink and shiny, he wordlessly brings the tip up to your face. You grin devilishly before opening your lips wide and sucking the fat head into your mouth. You too moan at the sweet taste of yourself, not often shared directly from the source but usually from Dieters tongue do you taste the sticky release of your climax.
He palms his painfully hard cock through his pants, before spreading your thighs wide once again, and feasting on the remaining juices. You moan as best as you can with the cock down your throat, before removing it from your mouth and sitting it beside you as you watch Dieter's beautiful curls bob up and down between your legs.
His tongue slides from your quivering hole to your clit, licking flatly. He alternates between sucking your nub, to fucking into your wet hole.
You fight to keep your thighs open, to not crush his head or let the gorgeous sight below you be hidden, but you can’t any more as the drug haze inside your veins seems to have taken all your strength. Sensing your struggle, Dieter curls his arms around your thighs, holding them open and drags your center closer to his hungry mouth.
You whimper at the dull pain that you feel from his tight grip holding you apart, just under your breaking point. The aching soreness from your legs being spread so wide, only adding to the intensity of pleasure rolling around in your stomach.
He alternates between eating you messily, and slowly picking you apart. Motorboating his lips and nose between your folds, and precise and firm licks on your clit while curling his thick fingers up into that sweet, sweet spot inside you, that has you moaning, incohesive gibberish from your pleasure and drug intoxication.
Even with Dieter being the sober one (surprisingly), he sounds just as wrecked as you, if not more. So drunk and intoxicated on you and your pussy, something he and you both thought he was deprived of way too long.
Soon you are reaching yet another, and surely not the last of night, orgasm. Your thighs shake with the intensity of the pleasure seeping into your veins. Your lips go from being an wide ‘o’ shape to a cheesy wide grin as the dopamine and endorphins flood your system.
Dieter makes sure he licks up every single drop of your essence before he rises off his knees slightly and encases you in a massive, big bear hug. Feeling what little air was left in your lungs, you giggle along with Dieter breathlessly as you squeeze his middle just as hard.
He lifts his head to plant the softest, sweet kiss on your lips before rubbing his nose against yours. You take a deep, tired breath in and your eyes flutter close, his delicious musky scent filling your nostrils once again.
“I missed you so much too, baby.” You whisper. You admire the deep crows feet around his eyes as he grins, his dark rich eyes sparking as he beams with happiness, love, and lust. His smile turns into something that of the devils as he begins to caress your body.
He lifts up your arms and takes off your tank top, throwing it on the ground somewhere. Before his lips lock onto your pebbled nipples. Groaning as he squeezes and plays with the other one, before switching his mouth over. After leaving your tits a glistening, saliva-covered mess he descends further down your body, his kiss-bruised lips planting themselves on every single inch of skin he can see.
“Mm need to fffffuck you sweetttt thing, and ffffeel that heavenly p-pussy wwwrapped around me againnn.” He mumbles, his lips smushed against your stomach. You softly laugh and nod your head. Getting the gist of what he was saying and knowing him well enough to know what he said that you didn't catch.
“Please Dieter. Please fuck me. Need… to feel you. Missed you…. and your cock…. so fucken much.” You garble out in your own form of a coherent sentence.
Dieter can’t help but whimper listening to you, his cock pulses with need for release as he listens to your confession (although mumbled) of need for him.
He can’t wait any longer.
He reaches under your ass and lifts you up and shifts you so you're lying on your back longways on the couch. He quickly shucks his shirt off, getting a little stuck in the process as he does so. You both giggle and laugh as your hands go up to help him. He soon pulls it off and makes quick work off, shoving his pants and boxers off his legs.
Both of your eyes are shining with something so deep and emotional as you admire each other's naked bodies. A sight seen countless times between the two of you but one that neither would ever grow sick of. You reach up and stroke your hands up and down Dieter's front, feeling his strong chest and plush belly that you love very, very much. He whimpers as your hands trail down into the coarse hair at the base of his leaking cock.
Even as he towers over your relaxed form, there is an air of submission to him still. The way his eyes are glazed over with no other drug than love, pupils blown wider than when he was higher than a kite on LSD. His eyes brows slightly furrowed in, his chest moving fast as he pants. His bottom lip trembling with anticipation of connecting your bodies together so intimately once again how they should be. How they would always be if Dieter got a chance.
He shakes himself out of his love trance and lowers himself over you, his forearms resting on the couch beside your head. You close your eyes and kiss him deeply, giving him a piece of you that no one but him gets to have. Literally and spiritually. He groans almost pathetically when you reach your hand down and swipe his tip through your once again dripping folds.
Your squinting and red eyes look up at him pleadingly, just begging to put the both of you out of the agonising wait and finally feel each other. He smiles a soft smile before he lines himself up and slowly pushes into your pulsing cunt.
“Ohhhh….ohhh…oh…yeah, honey.” He moans out as he slowly bottoms out in your cunt. You gasp as you adjust to his considerably large girth. Something you truly will never fully get used to. Your hands clutch as his biceps, grounding yourself as your fluttering pussy adjusts to him.
“God….fucken hell, baby. You feel somehow even better than I remember. Jesus christ.” He pants, his face screwing up from the pleasure just simply inside your beautiful heat gives him. He desperately tries to think of anything else other than your stunning form below him and just made for him cunt, feeling already so close to blowing his load.
He reaches down and pinches his base and quickly begins Jack hammering into you fast and hard, to hopefully get you off before he ultimately finishes way quicker than he intended to.
“Oh f-f-fuck, Dieter!” You cry out, eyes squeezing tight at the immediate hard and fast pace Dieter has set while fucking you.
“Im s-sorry b-baby. Fuckkk. You just feel too damn good. I just n-n-need. Ahhh. Need you come before I-I-I do.” He stutters.
Your heart and cunt clenches around, eyes rolling back from the pure ecstasy coursing through your as Dieter repeatedly stuffs his fat tip into the squishy part deep inside you.
“OoOoh shit, baby. Can feel you clenching real good around me, god damn!” He groans.
You lay there bonelessly, whimpering as Dieter’s fingers circle you clit just right. Sending you over the edge into the deep depths of mind-numbing pleasure. Your body shakes as your orgasm comes crashing down and over you, with Dieter only seconds after.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh oh oh shit,” He wails out with every rope of cum that spurts out of him, his hips almost unconsciously thrusting themselves as deep as they can go every time, only stopping on the last rope of cum, burying his now spent cock deep into your pussy. He lets his full weight drop on top of you as he catches his breath from his own high.
You breathe out with a soft smile, feeling such bliss and warmth from Dieter being here with you. He moves his head from your neck and looks at you. You both smile wide and break in hearty chuckles, before kissing each other.
You relish in the feeling of Dieter’s chest booming with laughter pressed up against yours, feeling his beating heart beat under you hand, showing that he is here with you now and just Dieter in general, his body fitting on top of your like a puzzle, like two pieces that you never would’ve known hadn't always been connected together like this.
And that’s exactly how you fall asleep, entwined in each others arms, connected in all ways possible, smiling to yourself as you listen to Dieter’s soft snores and you feel his heart beating strongly against yours, before you two let the sweet blissful temptations of sleep take you too. Everything was going to be okay now that your love was back with you.
*********
#dieter bravo#dieter x reader#dieter bravo fanfiction#the bubble fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#dieter bravo smut#dieter bravo x you#dieter bravo fanfic
105 notes
·
View notes
Text
First chapter / Previous / Next
Webtoon/A03 /Instagram/Tumblr Sideblog
Chapter 13 of my comic adaptation of the Hobbit, "the Necromancer!" I put the title page at the end this time for Reasons, though I might change it back to the beginning later. Below the readmore are my "translator's notes' on why I made certain changes to the source material (ex why Thror is here instead of Thrain), if you're interested:
Gandalf’s art style is inspired by the work of Lotte Reiniger. I chose this for a variety of reasons: because it really captures the aesthetic of a 'classic fairy tale battle of light and dark,' because the smoky backgrounds remind me of the way Gandalf often does magic with smoke/fire, and because it's entirely monochromatic/'grey.' The only other note I have on this chapter is that, as I mentioned before, I’ve altered the timeline so that Thror is the ringbearer dwarf captured by the Necromancer (not Thrain.) The “in universe” explanation for the change is that Tolkien and I are both translating the Red Book of Westmarch & other ancient texts, but came to different conclusions. The history of the dwarves is especially different because Bilbo wasn’t as interested in political machinations, there was misinformation spread by the Elf-King of Mirkwood, and even the Council of the Wise may have spread misinformation to conceal the fate of the dwarven Ring of Power. There are two “out of universe” reasons I changed it: The first is that I wanted to explore a timeline where Thror vanished before the mountain fell, Thrain died during the fall of the Lonely Mountain, and Thorin became king while leading his people into exile. The second was to draw another link between Smaug and the Necromancer. Thror vanishes with the Ring….and it’s only then, after Erebor lost what strength the Ring gave them, that Smaug invades. The only question is, “why did Thror bring the map and key with him to Mirkwood in this version?” My joke answer is that it’s not relevant to Bilbo’s journey. My real answer is that none of the characters will ever know. Maybe they were so precious he always kept them on his person; maybe he was planning to strike some secret deal with the Elf-King; maybe the Necromancer used his influence over Thror’s Ring of Power to manipulate him into bringing him the map and key, for sinister reasons of his own. (It’s probably the last one.)
#the hobbit#lotr#lord of the rings#tolkien#middle earth#the hobbit comic#retelling the hobbits#chapters#chapter 13#the necromancer#webcomic#art
424 notes
·
View notes
Text
Girl dinner💕🥤🚬
(Just learned there was no chip emoji)
#aesthetic#jirai#地雷#jirai girl#jirai kei#地雷女#地雷系#fashion#ファッション#ピンク#pink#girl dinner#smoke#girls who smoke cigarettes
1 note
·
View note
Text
High Art
A/N: Amelia and Matty go to an art museum.
Warnings: weed???
****
“C’mon, we’re gonna be late!” Amelia spoke over the clacking sound of her heels.
Matty fixed his hair in the mirror, humming to placate her. “Just a moment.” He whispered to himself. “Gotta get this hair to behave.”
Amelia took matters into her own hands, stepping between him and the entryway mirror to run her hands through his hair. Matty closed his eyes, smiling, answering enjoying the feeling. “Thanks, baby.” He gave her a quick peck.
“You- taste like…” she gasped. “Did you smoke a joint?”
Matty giggled.
“Matthew!”
“What? Just a little bit, I promise. Nothing intense!”
She rolled her eyes. “We’re about to go to this- thing!”
“I know.” He lamented “it’s gonna be so boring.”
He held her coat open for her and she stepped into it, adjusting the sleeves. “You’re the one who accepted the invite you know”
Matty checked his pockets for all the essentials —cigarettes, lighter, phone, keys— and held the door open, gesturing for her to go first.
“It’s for a good cause. Charity. Plus, might buy some art.”
She hooked her arm in into his as they stepped out into the chilly London night. He smiled at her, raising an eyebrow.
“What? No- you did not….” In a moment of magical telepathy, she knew what he was about to suggest.
“Why not?”
“Because we’re adults! Because there’s going to be people there. Important ones.”
“Live a little, Mia.”
She sighed loudly. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you brought weed to a charity auction.”
Matty knew her well enough to know that her big sigh before the expression of disbelief means he’d convinced her. He stealthily pulled out the joint, lighting it up for them to share.
“So we’re both going to be high. Around art. And rich people.” She said, taking a drag, and shaking her head at her own behavior.
“It’s called ‘high art’ for a reason.” Matty stated with a straight face.
“You know, I would roll my eyes but I’m afraid they’d get so far back and I’d be blind forever.”
***
“See any art you want to buy?” Matty asked, whispering into her hair and clutching onto her for dear life.
“Not sure I see any art.”
Matty stifled a chuckle. “Just don’t give that as a quote to any journalist. You’re too stoned to interacted with anyone.”
“I’m not!”
“Yeah you are. I love stoned Amelia she’s a legend.”
He spotted a server with a tray of drinks walking past them and secured a drink for them both. “Wanna get out of here and go see some real art? Far, far away from any journalists?”
“Where would we even go?” She asked, shyly, and fidgeted nervously with the sleeve of his suit.
Matty nodded his head slightly in the direction of the exit. “Downstairs.” He whispered conspiratorially, “they’ve got Rembrandt down there.”
“I love Rembrandt!” She squeezed his arm, making him giggle.
“ I know!”
“But…we can’t. The rest of the museum is closed off. For us. To be in here.”
***
“Thanks, Mate. Really. 5 minutes.” Matty shook the security guard’s hand, then turned to Amelia. “We’re in. Let’s hurry!”
“So, what’d you say to him to let us in?” She asked when they were no longer within the guard’s earshot.
“I just- he looked into my eyes and saw that I have a trustworthy face.”
“Right. So you bribed him.” Amelia nodded knowingly.
“How dare you. The aesthetic experience of art cannot be commodified.”
“Cash AND weed, then. Kay. Got it.” After a moment of silence, it hit her. “Is THAT why you brought the weed with you tonight?”
Matty giggled. She knew him so well. “Rembrandt should be down there.”
***
“It’s so…” Amelia stared at the painting.
“Perfect.” Matty stared at Amelia.
“Mhm. Perfect.”
He smiled, his arm wrapped around her, pulling her into him.
“What do you say we have our wedding here?”
“Where?” She tore her eyes off the painting to look at Matty.
“Here. This museum.”
“Matty, you’re a genius. I knew I agreed to marry you for a reason.”
#matty healy fluff#matty healy x reader#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy x oc#matty healy fanfic#matty healy writing
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fixer Upper
Pairing - Mechanic!Jensen x Single Mom!Reader
Rating - 18+ Only! Minors DNI
Tags - Angst, Anxiety, Fluff, SMUT, broke down car, walking alone on a deserted road, being a single mom, mentions of an ex, mentions of abuse, NSFW gifs, unprotected sex, reader on top, Jensen on top, and I think that’s it, but let me know if I need to add more to the tags.
Word Count - 2.4k
Beta - @winecatsandpizza
Fic Aesthetic - Yours truly
A/N - This is a repost from my old Tumblr account. I am in the process of transferring all of my fics over to this blog. I hope you enjoy! :)
“Dammit!”
You slammed the driver’s door to your car and kicked it for good measure. A new car was definitely a need, but who could afford one in this economy? Much less a tow truck and a mechanic. To top it all off, your AAA membership you had expired a month ago. Part of you wanted to just set the hunk of metal on fire, but that would make you feel better for all of five minutes before you’d really be shit out of luck.
The afternoon sun reflected off the hood as you reached for the release latch. As soon as you lifted it up, hot grey smoke poured out making you cough.
“Well, that’s just fuckin’ perfect. Icing on the damn cake.”
You put your hands on your hips and turned to look at the long stretch of highway that went in both directions. Not only was your car broken down on the side of the road, but the nearest town was at least twenty minutes in both directions. To make things even more annoying, your phone had died about ten minutes before your car did so it looked like the only thing left to do was to start walking.
Grabbing your keys and purse, you locked the car and started walking along the shoulder of the road. At least it was nice out, not a cloud in the sky, and fairly warm. The faint feeling of a summer breeze blew strands of hair out behind you as your car became smaller and smaller in the distance. A fence came into view after about fifteen minutes of walking, and if you were being honest with yourself, it was pretty inviting.
You brushed one of the wooden planks off and plopped down on it with a sigh. Maybe your Mother was right, maybe you should have moved back in with her until you could get back on your feet. But no, you just had to be stubborn and prove to her that you could make it on your own as a single mother. Swallowing your pride wasn’t something that came easily for you. So, you’d do what you always do and find a way to fix whatever was broken.
Just as you were about to get up and start walking again, a red Chevy truck came into view. You had never thought about hitchhiking, but the thought of it driving past seemed worse than the former. Your hands waved to get the driver’s attention and then gave him room to pull off on the shoulder of the road. What you weren’t expecting was the most gorgeous man you have ever seen get out and approach you.
“Everything okay, ma’am?”
Your mind was still reeling from the fact that this man was talking to you when you realized he’d asked you a question.
“Umm yeah, I uhh…my car broke down and my phone died so umm…I was just going to walk until I found civilization.”
A look of concern flashed across his face as he looked around.
“How long have you been out here walking? I don’t see a car anywhere.”
You shrugged like it was no big deal and gestured in the direction of your unreliable hunk of metal.
“Cars a ways that way. I’ve been walking for maybe twenty minutes? I don’t know. I kinda lost track of time.”
The man shook his head and looked firmly down at you.
“Yeah, I’m not letting a pretty lady walk alone on this stretch of road. At least let me take you and your car back to my shop. You look like you could use a break.”
Did you die and go to Heaven? There is no way that you got this lucky. The one car you see on this deserted road turns out to be a mechanic and he’s this good-looking? Yeah, no, things like this didn’t happen to you.
“Thank you, sir. I don’t have much money, but I can give you what I have for gas.”
He shook his head again and opened the passenger side door.
“Please, call me Jensen. I don’t want your money, sweetheart. It sounds like you need it more than I do.”
“Thanks, and you can call me Y/N.”
You smiled at him and climbed into the cab of his truck. The ride to your car and back to his shop took less time than you anticipated. You quickly found yourself warming up to Jensen. He radiated kindness and you felt like you’d known him for years. You told him you were a single mother, and how your daughter was staying with your parents until you got yourself moved into your new apartment. Mentions of your ex came up, but you tried to avoid delving too much into your past life with Tanner. He’d been abusive, and you pushed those memories to the back of your mind at all costs.
Jensen pulled his truck into a big open yard and you noticed an arched sign that read Singer’s Auto stood high above the entrance. He lowered your car to the ground and unhooked it from the hitch before leading you inside.
“Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got water, coffee, sweet tea, whiskey, rum, and any type of soda you can imagine.”
For the first time all day, your smile met your eyes. This man was too good to be true. If only you could be in a relationship with something this amazing. Jensen had to be either gay or unavailable because there was no way he was single with a personality like this. Let alone his looks.
“I’d like some sweet tea, please. Thank you so much for doing all this. I’m sure you’ve got a family to get home to, and the last thing you probably wanted to do today was help a hitchhiker and her piece of shit car.”
The confused look he gave you made you instantly regret your words. Here was this man going out of his way to help you, and your brain-to-mouth filter probably just fucked everything up. You didn’t want him to think that you didn’t appreciate everything.
“Don’t get me wrong, Jensen. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I just have this mindset where I wait for the other shoe to fall. I’ve never really done well in the relationship department, and I’ve always been let down eventually. You’ve only just met me and you don’t need this kind of turmoil. I should probably go. I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”
It took a moment for Jensen to get his bearings, but once he did you felt his hand gently grab your wrist. He slowly spun you around to face him, and his eyes bore into yours with a fire you hadn’t seen on a man before.
“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart wait a minute. Can’t a guy just help a beautiful lady out without her thinking she’s being a burden? Y/N, listen, I’m not doing this because I feel like I have to. I’m doing this because I want to. There’s just something about you, something that draws me in, and I can’t seem to put a finger on it.”
For a few minutes, you both were silent. Staring into each other’s eyes with such intensity made you want to look away, but something stronger kept your gaze locked onto his. Ever so slowly, Jensen closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss you. His kiss ignited a fire in your core that had been dormant for as long as you could remember.
When he pulled away, his pupils were just as lust blown as your own. Soon you were pushed against the nearest wall, his work uniform becoming disheveled along with your outfit.
“I don’t know what it is Jensen, but I have never wanted someone so much in my life. I only just met you, and the thoughts I’m having scare me, but at the same time it’s thrilling.”
Your hands came to rest on his muscular chest as his hands cupped your face.
“It scares the shit out of me too, Y/N, but I really want this,”
Jensen admitted as he continued to devour your body with his eyes.
“Do you want this as much as I do? If you don’t, we can stop. I’ll fix your car and we can both be on our way. If you’d let me, though, I’d love to show you what it’s like to have a real man, Y/N.”
Instead of answering him, you pressed your lips firmly against his. Immediately his arms traveled down your small frame and came to rest on the back of your thighs. Without breaking the kiss, you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. His clothed erection pressed against your pussy making a small moan escape your mouth.
Jensen began leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He grabbed one of your breasts in each hand and began to massage them gingerly, his thumbs grazing over your nipples making them harden instantly.
“You have entirely too many clothes on Y/N.”
You smirked and stepped away, slowly unbuttoning your shirt. It sent heat straight to your core seeing the effect you had on Jensen. His eyes roamed your body like a starving man, and the arousal in his pants was hard to miss.
“You know, I’m no expert on lovemaking, but I’m pretty sure it’s easier to do when you’re naked, Jensen.”
A low growl escaped his throat as he stalked toward you like he was a predator. He picked you up and flung you over his shoulder making you squeal.
“Jensen! Put me down! Where are we going?!”
“Bedroom.”
The one simple word held many promises as he climbed the stairs with ease. Seconds later you were placed gingerly on the comforter of his bed. He only left you for a moment to turn the light off and shut the door, and then he was on you again. His calloused hands pushed your shirt off your shoulders and slowly pulled it off each of your arms.
Even though he was undressing you agonizingly slow, you relished in the fact that a man was paying this much attention to you. Your ex was a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of guy who was only interested in getting off before going back to his video games. Your mind completely forgot about your ex as soon as Jensen pulled down your bra exposing your breasts, his lips closed over one of your hardened nipples greedily sucking into his mouth.
“Mmmm Jay … Fuck that feels so good”
He moved to the other nipple paying it as much attention before leaving a trail of kisses down to your navel.
“You’re so beautiful Y/N”
Jensen made quick work of the rest of your clothes before taking his off as well. If you thought he was gorgeous with clothes on, he was even more glorious without them. Perfect was the only description appropriate for the man that stood before you.
“C’mere Jensen. I won’t bite.”
You winked at him invitingly, and he let out this full-body laugh that was contagious.
“Y/N I don’t know if I believe that.”
He climbed onto the bed and positioned his body over yours before pulling you in for another kiss. His tongue swept your lower lip asking for permission which you granted almost immediately. Your body arched up, his cock hard as a rock pressing against your leg.
“Please … need you.”
Jensen smirked against your pulse point, grinding himself along your slick folds.
“Gonna have to be a little more specific Princess. Where do you need me exactly?”
If you could form a coherent thought you’d make a smart-ass comment, but right now you barely knew your name. Much less able to speak in full sentences.
“Fuck me, Jay! Wanna feel your cock inside me. Please!”
Jensen lined himself up and slowly thrust inside you, his cock filling you up inch by inch was almost enough to make you cum right then. It had been a while since you’d been with a man, and he hadn’t prepped you.
“Unnghh fuck … you’re so wet and tight for me, Y/N.”
Your nails dug into his biceps, his forehead resting on yours as you both got used to each other.
“Make love to me, Jay.”
Ever so slowly, he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you. His moans were barely heard over your cries of need. The steady rhythm of his cock hitting your sweet spot made the coil in your lower belly tighter and tighter. You wouldn’t last long with him like this, and you wanted desperately to make him cum with you.
“Let me ride you, Jensen.”
The look he gave you was almost primal. In a matter of seconds, he had flipped over onto his back and helped you sink down onto his throbbing length.
“Christ, Y/N, I’m not gonna last like this.”
Using the muscles in your thighs, you rose up off his cock and looked deeply into his eyes.
“Neither will I, Jay. Want you to cum with me.”
His hands held onto your sides as you began to ride him. His hips rose to meet yours, thrusting his cock deeper into your soaked cunt, and pretty soon he was completely in control again. Your cries echoed off the walls as your climax neared.
“J-Jay! I … I’m so close baby! Please … make me cum!”
One of his hands left your side and began rubbing circles around your clit.
“Your wish is my command, princess.”
Seconds later, he felt your walls tighten around his cock, as you both fell over the edge together. Your chest heaved as you aid beside him on the bed. He covered you up before cradling your face and kissing you sweetly.
Jensen pulled away, his smile met his eyes as he looked at you with nothing but love.
“So, how about some sweet tea?”
#j snow writes#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ross ackes x reader#jensen x reader#jensen ackles x you#jensen ross ackles x you#jensen x you#jensen ackles x y/n#jensen ross ackles x y/n#jensen x y/n#jensen ackles smut#jensen ross ackles smut#jensen smut
374 notes
·
View notes
Note
🌟Headcanons for readers if they were supes.🌟
Deer reader would have powers of suggestion through eye contact , mind control type stuff very cutesy and demure. + healing(like she could heal ppl and also herself or maybe just herself up to u) . This power would tire her out and she’d have wobbly spells like you’ve said before! with pope catching her omg that was cute. Very useful to the boys to have the girl with the enchanting eyes (literally) do reconnaissance for them. Had to work her up to it tho cuz she’s shy
Puppy reader would be invulnerable and super speed maybe? Both or one of them. I feel like it’s just so her with how active and adventurous she is. Much slower than A train but still VERY fast unfortunately she hasn’t got the hang of it yet so ends up burning her shoes and getting her socks on fire when stopping. Why the invulnerability comes in handy!
Kitty reader would be able to turn invisible very cunty very her. also teleportation into shadows cuz again how chic and black cat coded. But her clothes can’t turn invisible like the girl from fantastic 4 , actually most invisibility powers would like that. She’d be very useful on the boys missions and it could open up to situations between soldier boy , butcher , MM 🤭 reminder for myself to look up fics abt MM.
Bunny reader rlly stumped me omg but the best I could come up with is ability to control fire or liquify or soldify matter idk i think I need u and the council to weigh in with thoughts cuz I’m so lost ☹️ maybe the reason she was on the team u said earlier
you’re a genius i love thisssss !!!
deer having wobbly spells even in this universe yes !! the boys get so used to it that everytime she uses her power one of them are already behind her ready to catch her if need be <3 she’s the biggest sweetheart n theyd die for her !!!!
pup having super speed and accidentally setting her socks on fire whenever she runs on carpet without shoes !!! i love that idea sooo much, having that as a background scene and seeing m.m or frenchie chasing her around trying to put her out would be so funny !!
kitty is def an invisible girlie <3 if anyone ever yells at her and she’s not in the mood to yell back because she’s feeling sensitive she goes invisible so no one can see her cry :( i can also see her shape shifting into a cat form … she uses it to throw ppl off me thinks … kinda like a whole puss in boots vibe when she wanders up to whoever they’re tryna take down and gives them the 🥺 eyes and when they lean down to stroke her she attacks, clawing their eyes out !
hmm bun is difficult cos i can’t rlly see her being a supe originally !! much like the spoilt brat reader i see her being useful to them as she’s on the inside, a socialite, knows all the right people and has the key codes to any building from flirting with the right people … just all around useful ….. but if she’s gonna be a supe — she’s gonna be voughts favourite cash cow. a supe popstar, marketed towards teen - 20s girls, super cute aesthetic like sabrina carpenter. her power would be kinda like deers, she can compel people (think tvd style compelling) so they send her to conventions for self help where all she needs to do is bat her eyelashes, look someone in the eye and say “you will never smoke again” to heal them. homelander refers to her as ‘his little moneymaker’, but of course she gets tired of the constant sexualisation from the men in the seven >:( maybe she finally breaks….. going to her new friends for help…….
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Alien: Romulus: An Abortive Attempt at Homage to a Classic
Romulus started out promising, then proved itself an awful disappointment.
Review also on Cinemania.
The original Alien (1979) is far and away one of my favourite sci-fi films, one I’ve written about in the past, and I have a lot of affection for Aliens (1986) and even Alien 3 (1992), for all I feel it has its narrative flaws.
And then there are later additions to the original series; the less said about them, the better — later still, we see attempts at updating the series with sleek, shiny, lens-flared prequels and Michael Fassbender playing a mildly homophobic pastiche of a gay-coded eugenicist synth, these things replacing the original strong, complex writing in the original films.
I was honestly mildly into the premise of Alien: Romulus as a return to the original xenomorph rather than the Promethean nonsense, but that was all I knew about it going in — I went in with fresh eyes, having neither watched a trailer nor read any reviews.
In the first act of the film, there is an incredible return to the original aesthetics of Alien — without sacrificing the broader quality of set design, costuming, and film, there is an incredible recreation of not only the visuals originally displayed in 1979, but also the soundscape that accompanied those sets and mechanisms, and more than that, the haptics.
Every single button, dial, switch, and key in the original films looks as if you can reach out and touch it, and this incredible awareness of tactility is not only present in the machine and mechanic designs but in every other aspect of the set design. You can imagine how it might feel to touch everything in the film — feel the fuzz of static covering the screens in a sort of film, feel the trip of condensation on soaked engines, run your fingers over the texture of the walls, doors, grate floors, vents, even touch the aliens themselves. The slick, wet skin of the xenomorph, the slime slicking the segmented bodies of the facehuggers, the torn films of skin, the bubbling burn of their acidic blood — it all feels three-dimensional from the beginning, and that emphasis on the tactile and the textural is what makes the film so impactful.
It engages not just one’s emotional and mental state but all five of one’s senses, and in the beginning of Alien: Romulus, there is an attempt at recreating that physicality.
Not only are the original machines and their aesthetics replicated but there is a deep focus on tactility and certain sensory details in the mining colony our protagonist and her synth “brother” are trapped in — we see the gases and smokes and powders on the streets, see the machinery and all the trapped people working it, feel the cloying thickness of the polluted planet, see the near-literal sapping of colour from the whole of the planet by the miners.
The one tiny flicker of colour is, in fact, in the yellow canary in a modern cage, a fun little detail that emphasises how ancient the cruelty of the Weyland-Yutani Corporation is — just as each of the miners on the colony is trapped in an inescapable contract, owned by the company and trapped within its artificial economy, that yellow canary represents the cruelty of the old mining towns that the Weyland-Yutani Corporation effortlessly recreates even halfway into the twenty-second century.
The initial hooks in the narrative are planted here — we meet Rain as an orphan, and we see the complex familial dynamic between her and her adoptive brother, Andy. Andy is introduced from the out in the autistic-coded manner of any synthetic within the series, malfunctioning and vulnerable as a result, and Rain feels deeply about protecting him and protecting their adoptive relationship, and yet for all, Rain seems to be the primary caretaker between the two of them, Andy’s prime directive is to care for Rain.
Different Alien films have explored the varying levels of humanity for synths — I’ve spoken disparagingly about David and how he repeats certain homophobic tropes in sci-fi that go all the way back to the likes of Space Odyssey, but obviously, there’s the contrast between Ash as a villainous representative of the company’s violence — upholding its aggressive hierarchy and the violence within that — and the likes of Bishop, who is far less sexually driven if not arguably emasculated in the Aliens film, contrasting the hypermasculinity of the space marines; contrasting these again is the character of Annalee Call, who has the most agency and personality of the synths, and seeks to make use of that liberty.
One might think, introduced to Andy and his immediate familial connection to Rain, that the film intends to explore new dynamics for a synth — not only is Andy introduced alongside Andy as her adoptive brother, but he’s also the only Black member of the cast, and the only Black synth we’ve seen as a main character within the series, and one might think this would introduce more consideration as to his position as a synth as well.
The introduction of the rest of the party is rushed and, frankly, bizarre — while the central conceit of their reaching out to Rain makes sense, being as how they need Andy’s ability to speak to a Mother system on the decommissioned station in orbit above them, what is not firmly established is Rain’s connection to these people, or what their actual relationships with one another consist of.
Certain expository details are dropped in, that they’ve been distant from one another since Rain’s father died, but it’s evident that Rain does not know these people well for the most part, nor vice versa.
Throughout the film, attempts are made to emphasise the intimacy and closeness between Rain and Tyler, with them holding hands with one another and sharing significant looks or non-verbal communications, but the film doesn’t wish to expand this into a romantic connection nor expand on it as a sibling dynamic either.
The relationship has these hallmarks of being close or important, having these levels of friendship and physical intimacy, but there’s never any verbal acknowledgement of the closeness between Rain and Tyler, nor commentary made by the other characters, and it makes their interpersonal dynamics feel almost random.
This isn’t unique to Rain and Tyler, of course — all of these relationships seem similarly slapdash and thrown together, with no consideration as to their wider ramifications or the implications of those dynamics. Kay is pregnant because of “some guy”, and no further time or effort is given to fleshing out the whys and wherefores of her pregnancy; Bjorn obsessively seems to despise Andy and acts as if he’s never seen or met him before, but at the same time is a dick to every single other character, and no further details or complexity to his character background is added in; Navarro is an excellent pilot but for some reason is very attached to Bjorn, and their relationship seems a lot more highly sexed, but not… anything else.
These characters conduct themselves, in short, like they were AI-generated for someone’s worst nightmare of a YA novel — they’re in their twenties, but they act like young teenagers; they’re theoretically adults with complex dynamics with one another, but everything about their personalities seem vapid and shallowly written.
The only character who’s given any depth or apparent inner turmoil is Rain, and that makes less and less sense as time goes on. Rain feels a great deal of loyalty to and a need to protect Andy, and at the same time, Bjorn reveals that Rain was never going to bring him to the Yvara system, and Rain doesn’t argue the point or claim otherwise.
She seems overcome with guilt about this fact, and everybody argues she shouldn’t think much about any feelings Andy might have because he’s a synthetic — Andy himself seems to have no emotional response to this and immediately accepts this as in line with his prime directive.
Is this expanded on as the film goes on?
No, not remotely.
Andy’s software is apparently updated when he’s given the disc from Rook’s body, and this updates his physical mobility, repairs the damage to his verbal processor, seems to improve his concentration, overwrites his prime directive, and then…
Somehow, it goes away again as soon as the disc is removed? In another film, the introduction of the disc to Andy’s processing might have added some level of inner turmoil or inner battle for him, his broken processors engaging with the attempts to remotely update his AI and software, especially given that this is aboard a decommissioned station, but no such turmoil is introduced.
The disc temporarily makes Andy more useful, but while it introduces a risk that he is acting in “the best interests of the company” as opposed to protecting Rain, he still does protect Rain and her friends as best he can — the only sacrifice he makes is with Kay, who is already immediately under threat; Navarro goes from being infected to being dead almost immediately, and Bjorn is similarly very quickly doomed.
What’s the point of these sacrifices? What is their narrative purpose other than people dying on screen? What do they represent?
Why is Navarro’s death so immediate, rather than giving the xenomorph its usual extended incubation period? What does her death actually do, emotionally, to any of the other characters, bar Bjorn, who was already angry about his mother dying because of a synth? Does Bjorn now change his feelings and further blame Andy, or feel differently toward him?
No.
No one’s feelings about anything change in the course of the film whatsoever. We might as well be watching a puppet show.
Even later in the film, Rain approaches Andy after his original directives have been restored, and rather than saying, “Now, your prime directive is to look out for yourself,” she says, “your prime directive is to look out for us” — so what has she actually learned? She isn’t extending Andy any further humanity, self-sufficiency, or autonomy.
She’s paying lip service to the idea that Andy should consider the two of them as a unit, and we know that that’s only talk because scant minutes later, we see her abandon Andy on the floor whilst preserving her own life.
This is the core flaw of this film — it repeatedly attempts to call back to moments in the original Alien film, pays homage to certain lines, dynamics, or scenes, but doesn’t actually seem to understand what the point of any of those scenes for, and thus, in recreating them, makes a pastiche of a film without meaning.
I actually really appreciated the approach to the xenomorphs by the cast of characters initially — using the cryogenic fuel to freeze a facehugger’s tail and thus paralyse it was a creative and interesting solution to a problem. The thought behind it is slightly lateral, and for a film coming out fifty years after its original iteration, it makes complete sense that you would introduce new characters coming up with different solutions to the original problems in the franchise — and it’s all the more interesting to create new solutions that use resources available to the original cast.
This lateral thinking becomes somewhat less interesting — not to mention less sensible — when it comes to raising their ambient temperature in order to render themselves invisible to the facehuggers. It’s all very well liking the Alien videogames, but dropping yourself to the level of videogame logic doesn’t really play well for cinema.
Why introduce the temperature-controlled space suits minutes ago if not to use them for this solution? Why set the ambient temperature at their own body temp and then warn them not to sweat when, of course, they’re going to sweat in 28-degree heat, even were they not anxiously moving at moderate speed down a crowded corridor in the dark?
Why then continue on a pointless conversation on fucking loudspeaker whilst surrounded by facehuggers?
There’s nothing wrong with having flawed characters or even stupid characters in your film — in fact, having stupid characters can make a film very fun. God knows that in the original Alien, Brett and Parker being goofy as shit creates some of the best parts of the movie.
But your characters can’t just be randomly stupid and make random decisions. What is driving their thought processes and decision-making? Yes, in that scene, Tyler is extremely emotional about having been cut off from his sister… but why do Rain and Andy both just let his idiocy unfold? Is Rain okay with dying because this man doesn’t know how to silence his headset for a second and take this call in thirty seconds once they’re not surrounded by facehuggers? Does Andy think that allowing this sort of nonsense is somehow best for the company at this moment?
Every single character in this film is obscenely and strangely passive. None of them seem to make active decisions or considerations about anything in their lives — they only react to unfolding situations or respond to ways other characters act upon them, and they only act one step ahead and no further.
Case in point, all that business with the acidic blood — I appreciate that someone wanking behind the camera evidently thought this would look cool, but it’s just silly, and for what? So that blood can burn through the station in all directions instead of one? So that there can be a long, drawn-out scene where the infamously quick, intelligent, and physically resistant xenomorphs are gunned down like exploding cans on a farmyard fence?
So that characters can tremblingly quote iconic lines from the original film and not quite figure out how to make the delivery land in the context they’re now delivered?
And as for Kay’s pregnancy…
Introduced so early in the film, it would make sense for it to be the true crux of the film’s core philosophy, and yet Kay is lying down and having naps for half of the film. She has absolutely 0 character beyond being sad and a bit of a damsel for Rain and Tyler to each want to protect — Weyland-Yutani, throughout the Alien franchise, treat victims of the xenomorph as little more than incubators for their weapon, and here, our filmmakers treat Kay as little more than an incubator for their plot twist.
And as for that plot twist, it’s…
Well, again. It’s stupid.
The introduction of Rook as a synth is in poor taste — Ian Holm’s image is terribly animated, and the CGI used to animate the synth seems incredibly out of place compared to every other aspect of imagery in the film. At the very least, they might have attempted to reuse or recreate the original film’s animatronics and puppetry — Holm’s image was least poorly recreated when appearing on screens, and it might have been a better choice, if they were so insistent on profiting from the ghost of a man’s corpse, to at the very least have it be a version of Ash’s original personality uploaded to the computer as a special authority on the xenomorph and its species, rather than simply being another science officer wearing a parody of his face.
Attempts were made, I think, to replicate Ash’s manner of speaking in the original films — evidently, this was not proofread or workshopped in any way because, particularly in the third act of the film, every piece of Rook’s dialogue was bizarrely stunted and sounded rather more like an extra from the Big Bang Theory than a character in a serious piece of sci-fi.
Rook wants Kay to be injected with the xenomorph DNA, this being the best thing for the company (How? How is that the best way to preserve those samples? Why not wait for her to get to a station so she can be experimented on under controlled settings? If Rook is a different character to Ash and lacks his memories, then he doesn’t have Rook’s fetishistic focus on the advancement of the human species, so what motivates his actions?), and then her pregnancy advances rapidly and immediately, with an explosive birth.
It’s unfortunate that this film repeatedly rushes through scenes of violent birth and body modification because those are the core engines of fear and dread within the Alien films.
The xenomorph isn’t just a random scary monster — she is frightening because of how she can infect, take over, and use your body for her reproduction, and a greater horror is laid over this threat by the fact that Weyland-Yutani seeks to profit from this reproductive cycle and are willing to allow you to be sacrificed.
Birth itself, reproduction itself, is repeatedly under threat from authorities within Weyland-Yutani because attempts are being made to modify, streamline, and profit in the most extreme ways possible from the reproductive process, and especially given that these young people all exist under contracts that keep them trapped, one would think that Kay’s greatest fear would perhaps be that the foetus inside her might be or become the property of Weyland-Yutani.
Kay doesn’t seem aware of this or even consider it, even though it’s ultimately what happens in the mutation of her baby.
And as for that baby, again, what’s the point of it?
Cynically, the point is clear — they wanted a new, slightly different monster to try to profit from because they’ve stuffed their film full to the brim with dozens of xenomorphs and facehuggers and no longer fully understand how to create the atmosphere that makes those monsters and their ecosystem frightening, so the solution is a new monster!
It was really obvious that they were going to go for a breastfeeding thing with the monster’s approach of Kay, her horror whilst scrambling back, and its gaze on her chest, and I think it was a cop-out for them to go with the blood-sucking instead, but honestly, I suppose it was a surprise they even implied the lactation at all. It just seems like too original and too horrifying an idea to be embedded in such a mess of a film.
At every juncture, this film just feels undeveloped and unplanned — barring the atrocities with Ian Holm’s CGI puppetry, the film visually has a lot going for it.
While the facehuggers are not always super well-articulated, their movement was haunting and always quite threatening; the xenomorphs really had that wet feel that made them so disgusting and so visually iconic in the original films, and yet, again, for what purpose?
The camera repeatedly zooms in for shots of the xenomorphs screaming in the corridor, but not to serve the narrative or any sense of tension — as with virtually every other choice in the film, it feels utterly random.
Ultimately, I spent the last hour of watching this film in the cinema fidgeting and frustrated because nearly every scene felt strangely disconnected from the last, with little to no consideration as to the broader narrative or themes at play — I remember having a similar experience watching Cobweb (2023) a few years ago, which is a pastiche of various /r/NoSleep tropes that ultimately goes nowhere and has no idea or direction of its own.
Like so many remakes, this film tries desperately to copy the most iconic lines and moments from its source material but makes no attempt to update its ideas with new context, its own ideas, its own motivations, and the result is as hollow and empty as any film ever gets.
These kids want to leave their mining colony and strike out as autonomous by stealing not only equipment but also themselves out of their contracts, but as soon as they leave the planet, no talk or consideration is made of that fact.
A woman starts out pregnant in the movie and births a monster, which dies immediately after being born.
A Black synth is introduced as being of familial importance to the white MC, is dismissed as being just an object, is finally given permission to care about himself as well as her, and then is, immediately after, dismissed as just an object.
What was the point of any of it? What was the meaning of any of it? Where, in this entire film, was there a signal coherent and considered plotline that actually had any sort of thematic end goal?
I can’t believe a film we went to see on an afternoon whim could be so disappointing, but hey. At least they accomplished something after that mess.
36 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey! If you are still looking for maiko prompts.
You could write a sour zuko finding out that Mai and kei lo broke up. I like imagining ways for him to find out and what his reaction would be.
And I’m always a fan of stories where Mai runs away when zuko is banished, or try to smuggle herself into his ship.
Anyway, have fun!
Put a Ring on It
Part 2 is out now: read it here.
Summary: Kei Lo buys an engagement ring. Zuko freaks out.
“I’m thinking something gold and traditional.” Good, Zuko thought bitterly. At least Mai will hate it. He had well and truly lost her. He had lost her to another man.
Author’s Note: This idea was given to me by a lovely anon! If you have any Maiko fic ideas that you want me to write, send them my way! And thank you, if you already have <3
Gene Luen Yang wants me to believe it took Mai and Zuko 3 years to get back together. Ha! I spit in your face, good sir. This fic will do it in one! (I’m kidding, I’m kidding… mostly. I hate the comics but I’m sure Gene’s a decent fellow.)
This fic takes place 8 months after the events of Smoke and Shadow, vol 3. It’s canon compliant up to that point, and canon compliant with Korra, but I know nothing about the comics that chronologically happen in between so it might contradict those. For the purpose of this fanfiction, marriage proposals in the Fire Nation are the same as modern proposals with an engagement ring.
Also! Happy (late) Mother’s Day to all the moms out there! You’re the best!!
Zuko made his way quickly through the rain, hood pulled tight over his head. He was out with only a few plainclothes guards today, hoping to maintain some anonymity. It was only a week until the Feast of the Mother of Faces, and Zuko had yet to find a suitable gift for his own mom. He wanted to get her something especially nice since they had been apart for so many years. He was pretty sure his last gift to her was a macaroni necklace, and figured he had to at least up his game from that.
His uncle had given him some recommendations of places to shop, and the first of which was a small but well-known jewelry store in the Caldera. As he slipped inside, he noted that the place was nearly empty except for the store clerk. His guards would be watching the door from a tavern across the street, and were instructed not to check in unless he spent over an hour in the building.
The spectacled shopkeeper looked up at his arrival, “Can I help you find anything, sir?”
“I don’t think so?” Zuko replied. “I’m just browsing for a Feast of the Mother gift.”
“Ah,” the man nodded in understanding. He gestured to the wall to Zuko’s right. “We have a lovely selection of necklaces and pendants that might be suitable. Prices are listed on the tags. Let me know if you have any questions or if you would like me to remove any items from the case.”
Zuko smiled and gave the man a slight bow. This was shaping up to be easier than he expected. He looked through the glass at the different options. He noticed some that were similar to pieces he recognized from his childhood. There was one in particular, a gaudy and ruby-encrusted flame, the size of his fist, that reminded him of something his father would buy. Best to stay away from those. There were some cloth chokers, similar to one that Katara occasionally wore when she was in the fire nation. He wasn’t quite sure they would be his mother’s style, but perhaps he should send a memo to Aang. (For a monk, who swore off material things, that kid sure bought a lot of gifts for his girlfriend. The thought made Zuko smile.)
Then, he caught sight of a delicate silver chain. Most women in the Fire Nation preferred gold, but Zuko knew one woman who hadn’t.
— —
“Silver matches my knives, Zuko. The aesthetic of it all is very important to me.”
Zuko snorted. They had decided to explore the numerous palace basements, and had come across one of the many treasuries, nearly all of it gold. Mai had immediately protested the lack of her favorite metal.
“Well gold is the emblematic color of our nation, so most of the royal jewelry is gold. You’re going to have to get used to it eventually.” Zuko blushed when he realized the implication of his words.
“Oh? Why is that?” Mai asked, fixing him with a satisfied smirk.
His cheeks were burning, but he decided to play it cool. “I plan to put a golden crown on your head one day… if that’s alright with you.”
Mai kissed his cheek, and then his nose, and then his lips. “I think that’ll be alright. One day. But I really would prefer silver.”
He cupped her cheek with his palm and guided her in for another kiss. That was the last room they managed to explore that day.
— —
And even though they were no longer together, Zuko thought about her more than he cared to admit. He leaned in to examine the silver chain. It carried a small charm, about the size of his thumbnail. The charm itself was also silver, fashioned into the shape of a plum blossom. A wine colored garnet– again, a favorite of Mai’s– was nestled in the center of the flower. Zuko felt his heart seize. It was perfect, but not for the person he was supposed to be shopping for.
He contemplated buying it anyway. Maybe he could stop by Mura’s after this and place an order for a bouquet. Surely his mom would want flowers. And if Mai was there, he could give her the necklace. What’s a gift between friends?
The sound of the door opening broke his reverie. The rain had gotten heavier since he entered the shop, and the new customer had practically flung himself into the building, allowing the door to slam behind him.
The shopkeeper seemed slightly irritated by this noisy appearance, but nonetheless asked him the question he had asked Zuko. “Can I help you find anything, sir?”
The man removed his hood, and Zuko felt his muscles turn to ice. It was Kei Lo.
“Oh yes please!” He gave a good natured smile, all cheerfulness and boyish charm as he swaggered up to the counter. The universe was taunting Zuko. Of course he couldn’t buy a ridiculously expensive present for Mai. She had a boyfriend. She had made that quite clear when he last saw her eight months ago.
“What are you looking for?” the man asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
Zuko noticed how Kei Lo shuffled, seeming nervous. “I– I’m here to buy an engagement ring.”
Zuko was going to be sick. He was going to throw up. Right on the floor. Right in front of the store clerk. And right in front of Mai’s soon-to-be-fiance.
“Congratulations!” The storekeeper seemed to have fully gotten over irritation and beamed from ear to ear.
“Thanks!” Kei Lo said sheepishly. “I haven’t asked her yet, but we’ve talked about it before so I’m confident she’ll say yes.”
Zuko took several deep breaths and forced himself to quietly turn and face the display case once again. Kei Lo obviously hadn’t noticed him yet, and he knew that any interaction between them would be a disaster.
“Have you discussed ring preferences?” the older man asked.
“No, but I’m thinking something gold and traditional.” Good, Zuko thought bitterly. At least Mai will hate it.
As the two walked over to the ring cases and discussed the pieces, Zuko’s thoughts began to spiral. How had this happened? He had well and truly lost her. Mai, his soulmate, his best friend, his plum blossom. He had lost her to another man. Except…
Except he hadn’t yet! Kei Lo hadn’t asked her yet. He could buy his own engagement ring from a different shop and ask her right now! Or he could run there and ask her without one.
“Prince Zuko!” He heard his Uncle’s voice in his head, echoing the wisdom of the past. “You never think these things through! You had no plan! You could have died!” Then he said something about ice and chasing the avatar. The exact words were hazy, but the sentiment was clear. He was too impulsive.
He needed to wait and collect more information. Then he could form a plan and– and then what? If Mai wanted to marry Kei Lo, then he knew he had to support her. He wanted her to be happy more than he wanted his own happiness. But when he spoke to her in the Dragonbone Catacombs she herself admitted that she didn’t like Kei Lo as much as she had liked him. He cursed himself. He had driven her away and broken her heart twice! Now she was scared to trust him. But if he could just convince her to give him one more chance, he could fix it. He had learned how painful it was to live without her, and he would not repeat his mistakes.
His heart ached to imagine Mai in a wedding dress at someone else’s side. Even as a kid, when he pictured his wedding, he pictured Mai as the bride.
— —
“Mom! Mom! Mom!” Little Azula tugged at their mother’s sleeve. “My friend Mai is here and we want to play a game with Zuko! Please! Ty Lee is sick, so we need another person.” Zuko rolled his eyes. He considered Mai to be a shared friend since they all used to play together at Ember Island, but lately Azula had been calling her “my friend Mai.” It made him angry and he didn’t know why.
Ursa patted her daughter’s head. “I think that’s a great idea. What do you think, Zuko?”
He crossed his arms. He remembered what happened last week with the apple. But if Ty Lee was sick then Mai was alone with Azula. What if his sister was teasing her? Or telling her lies about him? He needed to intervene. “Sure. I would love to play with you Azula.” His tone of voice did not match his words, but his sister didn’t care.
“Good!” Azula grabbed his hand and marched him into the fountain garden. Zuko knew that this couldn’t possibly end well.
Mai was sitting under a tree, twirling a knife. She looked up at their approach and raised an eyebrow, “I thought you went to get mochi.”
Azula shrugged. “I changed my mind. I want to play a game.”
Mai looked at Zuko with great trepidation. He couldn’t blame her. Last time Azula said those words, he had tackled her.
“No firebending this time, Azula,” he ordered.
“Of course not,” Azula agreed. “We’re going to play wedding. I’ll be the officiant and you two will be the couple.”
It took all of Zuko’s discipline to not stare at Mai and search her face for a reaction. He heard her sigh, and he felt his stomach drop.
“Well,” Azula prompted. “Come here.” She made Mai and Zuko stand facing each other while she launched into a monologue about the rich culture of the Fire Nation. She went on for a while and Zuko was so bored that he almost forgot to be embarrassed. When Azula wasn’t looking, he noticed Mai yawning. He bit his lip to keep from laughing. “And naturally,” Azula carried on. “Fire bending comes from the breath. In order to symbolize the joining of flames, the couple will now share a breath and share a kiss.” She looked at them expectantly.
“Azula, I don’t think we should do this,” Zuko protested.
His sister smirked. “Why not? You don’t want to kiss Mai? She’s not pretty enough for you?”
Zuko saw red. “Mai is really pretty! You take that back right now!”
“If she’s so pretty, then kiss her!”
Mai cleared her throat. Pink dusted her cheeks, but aside from that her expression remained neutral, “Can’t we just pretend?”
“What do you mean?” Azula asked.
Mai shrugged. “Like this.” She leaned slightly closer to Zuko and kissed the air.
“That looks ridiculous,” Azula said.
“That’s weird. I thought you said you were better than Ty Lee at everything.” Mai’s words made no sense to Zuko, and apparently they made no sense to Azula either.
“Well yes, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
Mai smirked, “I bet Ty Lee would be able to pretend. She’s more creative and she has a better imagination.”
Azula was irate. Zuko knew first hand that people were not allowed to be better than her at anything. “I have an idea,” she replied. Zuko shuddered, that was Azula’s scary voice. “Next time, Ty Lee can be the bride. I bet Zuko would kiss her.”
For once, Mai’s facade cracked. Her face scrunched up and Zuko was afraid she was going to cry. “No!” Zuko cut in. “I don’t want to play this game with Ty Lee.” Azula huffed, but Mai looked up at him hopefully. He took her hands and kissed the air like she had. “I now pronounce us husband and wife.”
“Hey!” Azula pinched his shoulder. “That’s my line.”
Thankfully he was spared a confrontation by the arrival of his mother. “Zuko! Azula! It’s time for dinner.” She caught sight of Zuko and Mai’s clasped hands and smiled. “You’re welcome to stay too, Mai. I can send a servant to your mother to let her know.”
Mai politely declined, and Zuko was sad to see her go. That night, he thought for the first time about what his wedding might be like. He imagined hands entwined with own, slightly colder than his. They were soft except for the side of her index finger and thumb where she gripped her knives.
— —
Zuko caught himself staring at his own hands, and tried to shake off the memory. Since that day, he couldn’t help but picture Mai as his bride. It was almost involuntary. But if she had truly grown to love Kei Lo, then he would have to get over it. His mouth tasted like ash.
Zuko pulled his hood down, to the point where it hung in his face obnoxiously, and he walked over to a display case of bracelets that was closer to the rings. He tried to appear nonchalant as he looked over the merchandise, but he listened to the other two men intently.
Kei Lo was in the middle of speaking. “I walked into her shop one day on a whim. She was so beautiful. I asked her out on the spot and the rest is history.”
The older man smiled. “How lovely! I met my husband at work as well. He came in to buy a gift for his grandmother and he kept coming back. Eventually, I asked him out because I was worried he would bankrupt himself spending so much money here.”
Kei Lo laughed. “Wait, he bought something every time he came in?”
“Yes,” the shopkeeper shook his head. “I think he felt guilty for wasting my time. But we’ve been together for thirty years at this point and I don’t consider any of them wasted.”
“Wow! My girl and I have only been together for seven months.” Kei Lo replied. Zuko huffed. That was wrong. He and Mai had been dating for nine months at least according to what he learned from Ty Lee. Kei Lo really should know that.
“What’s her name?” the shopkeeper asked. Zuko shuffled close still, pretending to admire the bracelets in the sale section. Unlike the others that were behind glass, these hung from artful stands. He allowed his fingers to graze a band of beaded obsidian.
“Her name is Machi,” Kei Lo answered.
Zuko spun around, but his sleeve had caught on the stand and the entire thing toppled over, making a terrible noise and scattering bracelets across the floor.
“I– I– I’m so sorry,” Zuko’s face burned hotter than the sun.
Kei Lo looked at him stunned. “Zuko?”
The shopkeeper’s eyes went wide. With the scar and the name, he put it together. “Fire Lord!” He bowed at the waist, and– for a moment– Zuko was worried the man would lose his glasses. “My deepest apologies. Had I known it was you I would have helped you pick something out for your venerable mother–”
“It’s okay! It’s okay!” Zuko reassured him and the older man rose from his bow. “I’m sorry. I knocked over your display stand and the bracelets–” Zuko righted the stand and began to gather the fallen items, but the shopkeeper would not have it.
“Oh no!” He rushed over to help. “You do not need to clean my shop, Lord Zuko. Thanks to you, my husband and I were finally married under the law.”
Zuko smiled, “I’m glad. But still, let me help you. It was my fault after all.”
Kei Lo clapped a hand on the shopkeeper’s back. “I’ll help too.”
The three of them quickly subdued the mess. The shopkeeper noticed a few damaged pieces which he took to his back room for repairs. Zuko made a note to send the man compensation.
While the store owner was removing and cataloging the damaged pieces, Zuko and Kei Lo were left alone. Kei Lo broke the silence. “So… How’s Mai?”
“I don’t know,” Zuko answered honestly, and the awkward silence descended once more.
Zuko felt relief course through his body. After making a fool out of himself, he could finally take it in. Mai and Kei Lo had broken up. Kei Lo was engaged to someone else. Kei Lo thought that Zuko and Mai were talking.
The first part was wonderful news. Zuko felt it was safe to assume that Mai had dumped Kei Lo. When he released Kei Lo from the prison, the man had made it abundantly clear that he was with Mai to stay. Besides, the thought of Mai sending him on his way made Zuko very, very happy. The only potential concern was that the breakup had happened a long time ago, at least seven months. And, in all that time, Mai had made no effort to see him. For all he knew, she could be with someone else too.
“Umm…” Zuko did not know a subtle way to ask what he wanted to know. “Have you heard if Mai is with anyone right now?”
Kei Lo shook his head. “To be honest, I’m surprised she’s not back with you. She was normally so… neutral, I guess. You know how she is. But when she talked about you, a light would enter her eyes. She would go on and on…”
Zuko felt a spark in his chest. “Really?” He could hear the pathetic hope in his own voice. “She seemed so hesitant to trust me again. I thought she hated my guts.”
“No,” Kei Lo smiled wistfully. “I take it you don’t know how we broke up.”
“To be honest, I thought you were proposing to her.”
Kei Lo let out a raucous laugh. “HA! Agni, that’s why you bumped into the bracelet stand. Were you spying on us?”
Zuko laughed along sheepishly. “Kind of. I really did come here to get something for my mom, but when I heard your request… Part of me wanted to run to Mai right then and make a grand declaration.”
“I would have paid to see that. Front page news: The Fire Lord’s Shocking Proposal.”
“Yeah,” Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a good thing I didn’t.”
“Well, I was going to say that after all the stuff with the Safe Nation Society, Mai and I had a talk. I told her that if we were going to keep dating, I needed to know that she was over you. She has this one portrait of the two of you, and she keeps it in her dresser. I told her to get rid of it or I was gone. She made her choice.”
Zuko remembered that painting. He had one very similar to it in his own room that he kept on his desk. His was in ink and hers was in color.
And then he remembered that he should probably express some sympathy for Kei Lo. “It seems like it all worked out for you in the end though. I wish you and Machi the best.”
Kei Lo nodded. “Thank you. I’m so glad I found her. I was really upset when Mai and I broke up, but it all seems so trivial now. For what it’s worth, I think you should reach out to Mai. See if she still has that painting.”
“I think you’re right.” The two men shook hands. If Zuko had learned anything from this experience, it was that he didn’t want to wait anymore and risk Mai moving on completely. He needed to find her and apologize and beg for her to come back.
When the store owner returned, Zuko purchased the plum blossom necklace.
Endnotes: I’m open to writing a part two where Zuko gives Mai the necklace if people would be interested. (I mean, I might anyway even if you all aren’t, lol.) But I wanted to get this out close to Mother’s Day since I made up the Fire Nation version of Mother’s Day for this fic. And, a big HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY to all the moms!!!
Also, I couldn’t get into it in the story, but Kei Lo is that guy who falls for his barista, right? He went on like one date with Mai and then decided she was his reason for living. So I thought it would be hilarious if that’s how he met his next girlfriend! And then he could ambiguously say that he met her at the shop where she works which is also how he met Mai. Anyway, it was a funny head canon that made me laugh.
Thank you again to the anon who suggested this! I hope I didn’t make it too silly. I love putting our dramatic boy in ridiculous situations. Also, I plan on writing your other idea as well at some point, but this one demanded to be written immediately <3
PART 2!
#atla maiko#avatar the last airbender#atla#zuko#mai#atla zuko#atla mai#maiko#mai x zuko#zumai#kei lo#atla fanfic
43 notes
·
View notes