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kwanisms · 3 months ago

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Kinktober 「10:02」 — s.mingi

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➮ werehyena!Mingi × fem!reader wc: 4k summary: Y/N hasn’t been intimate with her boyfriend but not by choice. Every time she tries, he always ends up pushing her away and its starting to affect her confidence. After an argument, Mingi finally blurts out just why he's been pushing her away this whole time. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: food consumption, insecurities, past trauma, breakups; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! taglist for kinktober is CLOSED. Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: i promise the next thing i write for Mingi will make him dom. I already promised @yoonguurt and i will keep that promise but here is some sub mingi for the sub mingi enthusiasts lol also, if anyone is curious, i'm using STRIPED HYENAS as a reference for his werecreatures. NOT SPOTTED. Spotted hyenas are fucking insane to learn about. seriously, if you're curious, look up spotted hyena reproduction. it's literally unreal. anyway, the next part is for Chris' birthday and includes our fave aussies from stray kids! notice how i said aussies 😉 stay tuned for that and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), facesitting (m receiving), mommy kink, oral (f receiving), handjob (m receiving), sub!Mingi, dom!Reader, use of pet names (hers: mommy, ma’am; his: baby boy, sweetheart, etc), and I think that’s all but let me know if I missed any. kinks: facesitting + mommy kinkdialogue prompt: ❛❛ Sit on my face. ❜❜

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When you first met Mingi, you were intimidated by his presence, taking him as a very imposing and menacing but once you got to know him, you discovered it was merely in his looks alone. Standing at 6’1 with broad shoulders, he was a physically imposing man.

Adding to that aura of dominance was the fact that he wasn’t entirely human. You learned early on that Mingi was a werecreature. Specifically of the hyena variety. It was something you were new to, having never met another werecreature before him.

When things shifted in your relationship with him from platonic to romantic, Mingi was quick to let you know everything he felt was important about his condition. When he transformed, when his heat was, and what he usually did during his transformation and how long it lasted.

When his first transformation since making your relationship official happened, you had seen him the day before, making him a variety of meals for afterwards as you knew he would be too tired and weak to do it himself. His first cycle passed by without issue and soon it became part of your monthly routine to go over the day before, check on him, make him a week’s worth of meals and kiss him goodbye until you saw him a couple days later.

For almost a year, this was the norm for you. Something that had also unintentionally become the norm was not being intimate with Mingi. At all. Sure you’d kissed and even made out but as things got heated, Mingi always managed to push you away, trying to change the course of the evening or even leaving before you got a word in.

You’d never gone beyond a few lingering touches and it was slowly chipping away at your confidence and self esteem. It made you feel unwanted and unattractive despite being the center of male attention when you went out with your friends to the clubs once a month.

You didn’t want the attention of some random guy at the bar trying to buy you enough drinks to forget your own name and end up in bed with him only to regret it the following morning.

You wanted the attention of your boyfriend.

You’d tried speaking to Mingi about this, expressing your concerns but each time he managed to change the subject, steering it in an entirely different direction and avoiding the conversation altogether.

You didn’t expect sex from him. Of course he could have very specific reasons for not wanting to have sex with you but it was the fact he wouldn’t discuss it with you. All you wanted was a reason, something as simple as he wasn’t ready and you would drop it but you didn’t even get that.

And so, after being rejected all day on one of your rare days off, you wanted to find out why your boyfriend didn’t want to have sex with you.

You let out a sigh, keeping your eyes on the TV as you sat on the couch with Mingi sitting a cushion’s distance away, his massive frame taking up the opposite side of the couch from you. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way his eyes were wandering your body, focusing on the exposed skin of your thighs.

He often would look but never touch. You wanted so desperately for him to touch you in more ways than guiding you out of his way when he was trying to pass you or cupping the back of your head so he could kiss your forehead. You want his hands everywhere.

You heard Mingi clear his throat and you quickly focused your gaze back on the TV. You had no idea what was playing, having lost interest in it a long time ago as you were too busy fantasizing about your massive boyfriend’s hands all over you.

“I’m gonna grab a drink. You want one?” he asked as he got up from the couch, towering over you. “Sure,” you said softly as he nodded and moved around the couch to the kitchen behind where you sat. You heard the fridge open and close and a few moments later, he returned with two cold cans of cola, handing one to you and sitting back down.

“You don’t have to sit all the way over there,” you said as you cracked open your can and took a sip. Mingi turned to look at you wide-eyed. “Oh, uh I’m okay over here,” he said nervously. You set your can down, settling back against the couch, disappointment settling in your chest. “Fine,” you muttered, picking up the remote and changing the channel.

Mingi turned to look at you, taking in your profile as you flipped through channels until you exasperatedly tossed the remote onto the couch between you. “You pick something,” you snapped, not looking at him. Your tone made him recoil internally, wondering why you were upset.

He picked up the remote and flipped through the stations until he found something to put it on. He set the remote on the coffee table as an uncomfortable silence fell over the two of you. He could tell you were thinking hard, something bothering you but you were working out a way to bring it up.

Mingi hated this. He hated fighting with you. He hated the silent treatment. He hated denying you. Earlier, when he’d arrived and sat on the couch, you had joined him while dinner was finishing cooking in the oven. What started as a few kisses turned into more as you straddled his lap, kissing him deeply as you started to grind against him.

Mingi wanted more than anything to let you have him right there on the couch but he was reminded of his past experiences. His previous partners who became weirded out upon learning that a man so strong and physically large was so submissive. He’d never been one to be a leader or in charge of anything and that extended to his preferences in the bedroom.

His relationships in the past failed because of his inability to take charge in not only the bedroom but in the relationship as well. He wasn’t comfortable with it but he really, really liked you, possibly even loved you, and he didn’t want to mess this up. He’d forced himself to take charge in some scenarios but he felt so out of his depth.

And when it came to intimacy with you, he wanted more than anything to be intimate, to give into his more carnal desires but his past trauma held him back and he ended up pushing you away just like earlier. He’d quickly pushed you off him before things go get too far and luckily for him the timer on the oven went off and he was saved for a little while longer.

He knew it was no way to conduct things and that he should have a serious conversation but he just never seemed to be ready because he felt that things would end if he was honest with you. He was trying to prolong the inevitable.

“Do you not like me or something?”

Your question caught him off guard as your words hung in the air, waiting for his response. He turned to look at you, taking in your profile as you sat there, arms crossed over your chest, one leg tucked under you. “What?” he asked stupidly. He shouldn’t have done that. He should have immediately refuted your claim but he was just so taken aback.

“Do you not like me?” you asked again, turning to look at him. Mingi hesitated. Of course he liked you. He loved you. His brows knitted together in confusion. “Of course I like you,” he replied, turning in his seat to look directly at you. “Then why do you always do this?” you asked.

“Do what?” Mingi asked, knowing it was the wrong thing to ask. He knew what you were talking about. Your eyes narrowed. “Always push me away when we start to get intimate.” Mingi felt his stomach sink, the same feelings of anxiety and dread that he always got when this topic came up, rising into his chest.

It was starting to get hot in the apartment. He needed fresh air.

“I need some air,” he said getting up.

“No,” you said, getting to your feet and following your boyfriend. “We’re not doing this again!”

Mingi sighed as he stopped abruptly, making you run into him before he turned. “I can’t have this conversation with you, really,” he said. “Why?” you asked, feeling a pang in your chest when he turned and started for the door. Panic rose up inside of you as you watched him grab his keys from the counter as he passed it. You don’t know what came over you but you weren’t about to let this go.

“Song Mingi, if you walk out that door, we are through!!”

He froze, hand on the doorknob as your voice rang through the apartment. His shoulders visibly relaxed before he turned to look at you, a look of shock on his face. “You’d break up with me over this?” he asked softly. You threw your hands up in exasperation. “I don’t know what you expect me to do!” you all but shouted at him.

“I’m trying to have a mature conversation with you but all you’ve done is shut me down. I just want to know why you don’t want me!” you said, the corners of your eyes burning as you fought back tears. “I… don’t want you?” Mingi asked, sounding confused. “When have I ever said I didn’t want you?” he asked, walking back into the living room.

“You didn’t have to say it!” you countered. “Every time we’re intimate, you always push me away before it gets too far. I could understand if you would explain to me that you aren’t ready or it was something else but you won’t even entertain a conversation about it with me!” You blinked away the tears and turned away from him, not wanting to let him see you cry.

“What else am I supposed to think?”

Silence fell over the two of you, punctuated only by the sound of the TV, forgotten in the midst of your argument. Maybe it was better to just let him go, let this all go. Maybe you’d be better off. You loved Mingi, you really did, but you never signed on for all of this. You knew getting involved with him was going to be a learning experience after he revealed his nature as a werecreature but to you, that was nothing.

The silence was broken by the sound of Mingi’s keys being set on the counter and the floor creaking as he walked towards where you stood. You felt his arms wrap around you, warmth from his body enveloping you as he rested his head on yours. “It’s not because I don’t want you,” he murmured, finally speaking.

“I want you so bad I can barely stand it,” he added. “I just don’t want to scare you off.” You turned in his arms to face him. “How would it scare me off?” you asked, looking at him with a confused expression, brows knitting together. “Because,” Mingi started, his voice faltering. “It’s embarrassing,” he continued. “You thought I would judge you?” you asked. Mingi shrugged.

“It’s happened in the past. The people I’ve dated didn’t want…” he trailed off. “Didn’t want what?” you asked, trying to coax it out of him. He sighed, throwing his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Someone like me,” he blurted out. You reached up, cupping the back of his neck and forcing him to look down at you. “What does that mean? Someone like you?”

“I’m not very… confident,” he started. You snorted. “Now that’s a damn lie,” you retorted. “You’re the most confident man I know,” you added. Mingi shook his head. “Confident is the wrong word,” he admitted. “I’m not… I don’t like to be… in charge.”

Realization dawned on you and you let out a sigh. “You’re not dominant,” you stated. Mingi nodded, shutting his eyes and bracing for what you assumed was some sort of angry response. It nearly broke your heart that he felt he had to lie and hide this from you because of the reactions of his past relationships. You could understand his hesitation. But you weren’t like his previous partners.

“Mingi,” you started, grabbing the front of his shirt when he tried to turn away. “Yah,” you said sternly. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you!” the tone in your voice must have surprised him. You’d never sounded so commanding before. At least not to him. “Yes, ma’am,” he answered quickly.

“I wish you had just told me, instead of hiding it from me,” you explained, cupping his cheek. “If you had told me, we could have solved this a lot sooner instead of tiptoeing around it.” Mingi leaned into your touch. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I thought that if I told you, it might make you leave me.”

You pulled him into a kiss. “I almost broke up with you because I thought you weren’t attracted to me,” you said softly. “This is why we need to communicate,” you continued. “I’m not like your previous partners, you know this.” Mingi nodded, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I know,” he murmured. “And I never should have compared you to them. I was just…”

“Scared,” you said. “I get it. It can be hard to break that cycle of trauma.”

“It’s not weird though,” you continued, taking his hand and pulling him towards the bedroom. “I don’t mind taking control,” you added, smiling at him as you pushed the door open with your back. “How about you lay down and let me take care of you. How does that sound, baby?”

Mingi nodded wordlessly as you guided him over to the bed, turning so you could push him down onto it. He landed on his butt with a soft oof as you moved to shut the door and returned to him. “Let me take care of you,” you repeated, slowly kneeling in front of him, hand sliding down his chest to the waistband of his sweats.

You slipped your fingers under the elastic pulling it forward slightly before letting it snap back against his stomach, making him gasp. You chuckled softly as you grabbed the sides of the waistband and started tugging. He lifted his hips, letting you pull the material all the way down his thighs and to the floor where it pooled around his ankles. He sat in his underwear, waiting for your next move.

You could see he was starting to grow hard but you knew Mingi’s body, even if you hadn’t seen it fully. You knew that your boyfriend had a massive cock and from what you could see now, half hard, you were correct in your assumptions. You pressed your hand over the bulge in his boxers, making him his, a shudder run up his spine as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Does that feel good?” you asked, stroking him slowly, watching his expressions. “Y-yes,” he whined, hips starting to roll up into your touch. You could feel him growing harder and harder by the minute and decided to take it a step further. You slipped your hand into his underwear, pulling his cock free from the material. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you started to slowly pump your hand up and down.

“Fuck,” your boyfriend hissed. “Feels so good, babe.”

You let go, spitting into your hand and resumed stroking him, your saliva working as a lubricant and moving faster with ease. He was almost completely hard by this point. “Babe, please,” Mingi whined. “What is it?” you asked softly, your speed never faltering as you looked up at your boyfriend. “I wanna be inside you,” he whined, hips bucking.

You clicked your tongue as you slowed your hand for a moment. “No, baby,” you answered. Mingi whined again, shaking under your touch. “Please, mommy,” he gasped and you felt your cheeks burn. That was a new one. You’d never been called that before but you weren’t about to comment on it. Not when you wanted to focus on making Mingi feel good. You could discuss it later.

“Sorry baby,” you said softly. “Only good boys get their dicks wet.” Mingi whined, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “It’s literally wet right now,” he countered but you shushed him, stroking him faster and making him remove his shirt. He did as you asked, tossing the tee to the floor.

“Please, baby. I’ll be good, I promise,” Mingi begged. It was tempting to give into him but why the rush? “Not tonight, baby boy,” you cooed. “Maybe in the morning.” You continued to stroke him, his hips bucking up to meet your movements as you drew him closer to his high.

You felt his cock throb and twitch in your hand and you knew he was close. “Just a little more,” you cooed. “Be a good boy and cum.”

As if on command, Mingi let out a moan and you angled his cock away from you, watching as thin ropes of his milky white cum shot out of him, landing on his toned stomach, contrasting with his tanned skin. You continued to pump him slowly, making sure to squeeze every last drop out of him.

“What a good boy you are,” you said sweetly as you got to your feet, ignoring the gusset of your panties sticking to you as you climbed onto the bed. “I bet that felt really good, didn’t it?” you asked, to which he nodded. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” you said, starting to get up but his grip on you was strong. He muttered something that you couldn’t make out.

You leaned over to hear him better. “What was that, baby?” you asked. “You need to speak up.”

“I said,” Mingi started, licking his lips. “Sit on my face.” You let out a chuckle. “It’s okay, baby,” you said softly, caressing his cheek. “You don’t need to do anything. We can clean up and go again tomorrow if you really want to.” Mingi shook his head. “No,” he said, grabbing your wrist, moving to lace his fingers with yours. “Please, Y/N,” he whined. “P-please, mommy. I want you to sit on my face!”

You stared at him, nibbling on your bottom lip for a moment before you relented. “Fine,” you said. “But no cleaning or wiping your mess away until I cum, do you understand me?” you asked, leaning over to look into his eyes. He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

You got off the bed, tugging your shorts and underwear down and letting them fall to the floor, stepping out of them and then returning to Mingi on the bed. He waited eagerly as you straddled his chest. “Before we do this. You have to tell me if you can’t breathe. Tap my thigh three times if you need air,” you instructed. Mingi shook his head. “I don’t need air,” he replied. “I just need your pussy on my tongue, right now.”

You reached behind you, grabbing his sensitive, soft cock. He let out a whimper before nodding. “Yes mommy,” he said quickly. You let go and scooted forward until your knees were on either side of his head. Mingi’s hand moved up to cup your ass. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Just sit down.”

You lowered yourself onto his waiting tongue and let out a moan as he immediately wrapped his lips around your clit, teasing it with the tip of his tongue, the room filling with lew slurping sounds. You reached down, combing your fingers through his hair gently. You felt him flatten his tongue against your clit, licking up and down slowly before he started to circle the nub with the tip.

You let out a moan, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to make out with your sex, ignoring the wetness that seeped from you onto his lips and chin. He could careless and lapped away at your core, fingers digging into the plush of your ass, pulling you down and close as possible.

His tongue traced down to your hole, teasing the entrance before he pulled you flush against him, his tongue wiggling into your pussy. You let out a gasp, feeling his nose bump against your clit as he tasted everything you had to give him. His tongue slipped out and was back on your clit, flicking against it in quick succession, each flick making your body jerk violently as he built you up to your climax.

Your fingers in his hair tightened as your hips started to move involuntarily. Mingi gently pushed you up slightly. “Yes, ride my tongue,” he murmured, slurring his words before pulling you back down on his flat tongue, letting you grind against him. You let go of his hair, leaning over to place your hands against the mattress as you started to roll your hips, grinding your clit against his tongue.

Your body shook, thighs squeezing his head as your orgasm washed over you, a wave of euphoria spreading throughout your body as you continued to ride out your high. Finally, you shuddered, feeling the effects of your exertion in the burning of your thighs but also in the sensitive bundle of nerves your boyfriend was still licking slowly.

You finally pulled away, lifting off his face and swinging your leg over to kneel beside him. The lower half of his face was coated in your release, shining in the low light of your bedroom.

“You are a mess,” you said with a chuckle before getting up and heading into your ensuite bathroom to grab a clean washcloth, wetting it with warm water and returning to the bed. Mingi held out his hand but you pushed it away and started wiping his face clean before wiping down his stomach, cleaning it of his release.

Once you were satisfied he was no longer sticky, you tossed the towel into the hamper as Mingi’s arms circled your waist, pulling you onto his naked lap and smiling up at you with a very tired and lazy smile. You felt his cock prod at your thigh and you chuckled, running your fingers through his hair before kissing him. “You’re hard again,” you noted between kisses.

“Mmm,” he hummed in answer. “I could go again,” he offered. “But I’m also very tired.” You nodded. “My thighs are burning,” you admitted. “How about we rest and then maybe later we can go again. Maybe I’ll even let you fuck me,” you said, pulling him into a slow, languid kiss that was messy and nothing but tongue. “Have I been a good boy?” he asked, perking up slightly, making you laugh.

“Yes,” you answered. “You’ve been a very good boy,” you added. Mingi pulled you into a kiss, grabbing your hips and pushing you down so his cock pressed against your clit. “I could go right now,” he said eagerly. “You won’t even have to do anything,” he added. You cupped his cheek, pressing a kiss to his lips. “If you promise I won’t have to lift a finger,” you said.

Mingi nodded excitedly. “I promise!” he said eagerly. You nodded, nose bumping against his. “Alright,” you replied, kissing him and pulling back, resisting the urge to laugh when he pouted, trying to chase your lips. “Show me what you can do, big boy.”

Keeping his hold on you, Mingi shifted from sitting to his knees and laid you back against the pillows before removing your top, dropping it to the floor and cupping your chest over your bralette. He kissed down your chest, pushing your bralette up and taking one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before kissing down your stomach, moving your legs over his shoulders as he drew level with your cunt.

“Will you let me fuck you without a condom?” he asked suddenly. You reached down, brushing his hair back. “One step at a time,” you said. “Make me cum with your mouth and then we’ll discuss condoms afterwards. Sound good?” you asked. Mingi nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You nodded, leaning back against the pillows. “Don’t worry about rushing,” you reminded him.

“We have all night.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 20 days ago

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In The Cold

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, social dejection, mentions of religion, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: Your Christmas is set to be a lonely one, but you do your best to share the cheer with your only friend.

Character: Arvin Russell

Day Seven of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - cottage!core

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The tension is something you’ll never be used to. The silence is as bad as the hushed voices and the sneering side looks. It's all so suffocating.

So much as you might’ve earned your judgement, it cannot make them righteous. What was it the pastor extolled; ‘let he who be without sin...’ And why is it that the stones they cast are aimed at you and not the man who joined you in your misdeed? The very one who cozened you into the act?

Henry still sits on the town council, he still goes home to his wife and other children, he still gets a ‘good morning’ or a ‘good day’, and none bat a single eye along the pew. You can’t even get the same from him these days. He’s a stranger now that your dresses are too tight and your gait is wider and wobbly. Now that his adultery has grown inside of you and continues to, he runs from it.

You pay at the counter for your meagre fare. Janie fired you not long after the minister’s scolding and none-so-subtle remonstrance of straying innocence. Like your mother and father, she abandoned you to your dejection. You would not stain her Christian mantle.

The shopkeep, Ted, packs up your goods in the bag without a word. He drops your change on the counter and turns away as you gather it up. Despite that, you still thank him. You lift the bag and hug it above your bump.

You keep your head down as Esther steps up to the counter with her basket. She makes a comment about the holiness of the coming holidays. Of how Jesus’ birthday should be kept sacred. You know she means you to hear but you don’t show that you do.

You step out into the chilly winds as they swirl around with a gust of powder. You nearly collide with another as you do. The chuckle that comes with the near-catastrophe eases your nerves. In an instant, the weight is scooped out of your arms.

“There ya’are,” Arvin greets. He’s the only person in town who talks to you.

In fact, he’s the only reason you have a place to lay your head. He did up his old shed so you could live there for a while. A barter you insisted on. What would people think if you accepted his invitation to stay in the spare room? Surely worse than the already do. He does not deserve to be tainted by you.

“You all done for the day?” You ask as you keep your arms crossed.

“Oh yeah,” he answers brightly, “what’d you get? Anything good...” he sniffs the top of the bag, “I smell cinnamon.”

You chew your lip, “yeah...”

You glance at him. He wears his fleece lined denim jacket, the collar greyed with age and a button missing on the right chest pocket. It’s not really enough for that kinda cold. Knockemstiff lives up to its name quite often and the winter will be sure to freeze your bones.

“Sorry, I’m being nosy,” he chuckles. “You want some candy? Got some in my pocket. Mr. Callahan sent them in with Edwin.”

“Oh, no, I’m okay,” you blow into your woolen mittens. It’s bitter these days. “Um, I was hopin’... I could make ya dinner tonight. Since ya done so much for me. ‘Fraid I don’t got much else to give right now.”

“That’d be awfully nice,” he accepts with a bounce in his step, “here.” He shifts the weight of the bag into one arm and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a long shape wrapped in brown paper, the top twisted and tied with ribbon. “Butterscotch.”

“Arvin, I told ya--”

“I got lots,” he insists.

You take it with a thank you. You continue down the packed snow. He’s entirely oblivious to the way Charmain passes with a glare but you feel it in your chest.

“I was thinking, before the baby comes,” you swallow as the thought bubbles up from the pits of constant dread. “I should leave.”

“Leave?” He wonders aloud. He looks over at you as snow gathers in his hair, the cold nipping pink his cheeks. He’s two years older than you but looks and seems much younger than you. “Where to?”

“I got an Aunt a few townships over. She’s the only one still answering my letters. She never had no kids of her own. They all... none of ‘em made it, ya know? I been writing to her and that.”

“Oh,” his disappointment tweaks in his throat. “Well, you don’t gotta, you know? I don’t mind ya stickin’ ‘round.”

“I mind. You been so kind already. Once I got the babe, no one gonna take me then neither. No work here, and I’ll be lucky to get a pew on Sundays.”

“Yeah, well, all these folks be saying they’re godly and how do they act?” His tone edges hotly. “Ain’t godly to turn a soul out. My mama always said so. No soul’ll make it through this world with a dent or two, but the lord’ll forgive.”

“Mm, she sounds like a nice lady,” you say.

“She was,” he sniffs. “And so I wouldn’t be puttin’ no shame on her memory by bein’ selfish, ya know? So’s as long as you need it, the shed is yours. I told ya, though, there’s a room inside.”

“No, no,” you loosen the ribbon and peek inside the paper. The candy stick of twisted sugar is all shades of caramelly brown. You smell it and it plucks at your bottomless hunger. “I don’t mind it. Pa never had the stove goin’ less the snow was past our knees. He always says, if you’re cold, put another sweater on.”

“Huh,” he scoffs darkly.

“What?”

“Yer pa’s the reason you’re in my shed,” he harrumphs. “Sorry for sayin’ it, but I wouldn’t take no advice from a man who’d disown his own blood. He’s the one brought Henry ‘round. They still gettin’ drinks down at the tank.”

That information is more chilling than the cold. You didn’t know that. You try not to hear things about your father or the man who put this curse in you.

“I...” he begins crisply, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t gonna tell ya.”

“Woulda found out soon enough,” you shrug and shove the butterscotch stick in your mouth. You suck on it pensively. It’s sweet but you can hardly enjoy it as your eyes burn with a glaze of tears.

“So,” he coughs, “what’s for dinner?”

You pop your lip off the candy, “it’s a surprise,” you say.

“Oh, I like surprises,” he smiles, not that he ever really stops. Not around you.

“Well, I hope you like this one,” you drone.

💝

You wash the plates from dinner as dessert bakes in the oven. The smell of cinnamon fills the house as you hear Arvin tinkering in the next room. He’s always messing around with something mechanical. You’re not always sure if he’s fixing them or just taking them apart.

You dry and stack the dishes away. The old house is cozy, quaint. You know it belonged to his parents. It’s still strewn with their memories. As if he’s preserving them in those walls. So you do your best not to disturb it.

You take the pan out of the oven. The rolled-out dough is perfectly baked and the colour is pristine. The shape resembles their namesake; elephant ears. It’s only dough, sugar, and cinnamon, but so so delicious. Your grandmother used to make them. Despite your current predicament, you’re nostalgic for the simper days.

You put one on a plate and peek at the doorway. You pause to dig out the parcel you hid under the sink then bring both items out to the front room. You keep the latter behind your back as you approach Arvin. He sits on the floor in front of the burning firestove as he pokes at an old clock with a screwdriver.

“Here ya go,” you offer him the dessert. “I could make some coffee or tea?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he puts down the clock and tool, then wipes his hand on the cloth draped over his knee. He reaches up to the take the plate. “Smells good.” He brings the dish down to examine the pastry, “what is it?”

“Called an elephant ear. Not super fancy.”

“Looks good,” he grins. “And what’s that?”

He lifts the baked dough and bites into it as he angles his head as if to see around you. You bring your hand out and present the parcel.

“Merry Christmas,” you say. “I know it’s not much, and a bit early but it’s gettin’ real cold.”

He places the plate on the rug and claps his hands off as he chews. His dark eyes sparkle as he takes the bundle wrapped in brown paper. He brings it over his lap and carefully unties the twine. You sway on your feet and rub your stomach as you watch anxiously.

He uncovers the knitted scarf and cap. He already has thick gloves that he wears for his work. He feels the wool and examines it quietly. You’re suddenly very unsure.

“You made these? For me?” He looks up. You nod. “Wow, it’s... you lined the cap?”

“I had a few old pieces I repurposed,” you shrug.

“It’s...”

“Not too much. I know. I’m sorry. I don’t make too much these days. People only hire me if no one knows and it’s gettin’ harder to sneak around.”

He huffs and shakes his head. He lowers his chin and pets the scarf. “It’s everything.” He continues to examine your work. “I hope you don’t mind, my gift’s not ready yet.”

“Oh, Arvin, you don’t gotta get me nothin’. You done enough.”

“I want to,” he says. “Now,” he lays down the wool on the rug neatly and grabs his plate. He uncrosses his legs and stands. “Why aren’t you havin’ some dessert? You need to sit down. Let that baby rest. He mustn’t sleep very much with you titterin’ around all the time.”

“He’s already titterin--” you go to argue and stop with snort. “I think he knows we’re talking about him.”

You feel your stomach as the baby kicks. Arvin watches your hand on your belly as his brows rise up his forehead. “You think it’s a boy?”

“Could be. Not too sure. Oof.” You twitch as the baby kicks harder. Then wince again as Arvin puts his hand on you without warning. It’s surprising but not unwelcome. His warmth seeps through your dress.

“Oh!” He exclaims as the baby beats on your insides. “I can feel him.”

“It’s a bit early,” you reach back to brace your hips, “he usually waits ‘til I’m in bed.”

He keeps his hand on you, watching your belly as the baby continues his dance. He seems awestruck by the ripple under your skin. You’re more exhausted of it.

“I’ll have your present ready soon,” he says. “Promise.”

💝

Arvin’s truck rumbles up to the house. You were surprised when he drove it into town today. He doesn’t usually start it unless he’s going to fetch firewood or going off for long trips.

You open the shed door, a blanket around your shoulders as you peek out. His headlights shine through the greyness. It’s still early by your count, unless you lost track again.

He hops out and stomps through the snow. He waves at you as his hair curls out from under the cap you made him. He wears it every day. You’re happy for that.

“Merry Christmas,” he calls out.

“Christmas... it’s still two days away,” you stay behind the door to shield yourself from the winds.

“Two days!” He claps as he approaches. “Since you gave me my gift early, I got yours ready too.”

“Mine?”

“Mmhm. You’re not the only one who can do surprises. So pack a bag.”

“Pack...” you wonder.

“Ah, ah, just get a bag, alright?”

You can see him jittering in excitement. You hate to dampen that but you also feel bad. You made him a hat and scarf. He’s got something planned out that’s gonna at least cost him gas and his time.

“Oh...” you murmur.

“Don’t,” he wags a finger. “Really, come on! I wanna get there by dark.”

“Alright, I’ll be fast.”

You gently close the door and retreat. You can’t deny him. His words trouble you though. By dark? How far are you going? You don’t want him to do too much.

You don’t have a lot to take. A few dresses that still fit, some stockings, your sole pair of boots, your coat, and other things just in case. It doesn’t sound like you’ll be coming back tonight.

You come out in your coat and boots as Arvin keeps the truck idling. He meets you near the hood and takes your bag before he helps you up into the front seat. He gets in the other side and puts your bag between you.

“Do I get a hint?” You ask.

“Nope,” he shifts into gear. “Just hold tight.”

💝

It’s a few hours before Arvin stops. Your eyes scour the sentinel pines all around and fall upon the painted wood of the cabin’s face. The porch pillars are stained a dark blue as the siding stands as white as the snow. It’s only the edgework along the window frames and door that make it visible amid the winterscape.

You gasp, “Arvin?”

“Surprise,” he exclaims.

“What...”

��My grandfather built this place. Ma’s dad. I been workin’ on it,” he proclaims.

“Workin’ on it?”

“Yep! Ma wouldn’t want you raisin’ that boy in a shed.”

You mull his words and stare at the cabin. “Arvin, my aunt--”

“I know, she’s a nice woman by the sounds of it. She can always come see us but you know, not many place around that’ll be as nice as her. Not when’s they see a mother with no husband.”

You shrink down. He’s right.

“But I’m not--”

“Like I was saying,” he interjects, “you’re gonna be a mama. Means you need a proper house.”

He doesn’t wait for you to argue. You don’t have any to offer as you reel in disbelief. Why would he do all this for you? It’s not his baby. You’re not his problem.

He comes around and offers his hand. You climb out, gripping him tightly, as you flick away your tears. You sniffle and keep your head down as he leads you across the snowy yard.

“You’re upset?” He asks as he kicks snow off the steps.

“I’m... surprised,” you croak, trying to hide your face. “Arvin, it’s too much.”

“Not much at all,” he counters. “But I got a new stove in and the fireplace real nice since I redid the bricks. And I got it all wired up to a gas generator.”

“Oh,” you puff out as you climb the steps, still latched onto him. You hiccup as your tears flood over.

“Oh?” He echoes.

“Arvin,” you babble behind your hand. “Why-- why would you go and do all this for me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He tugs you toward the door.

“But...” you choke on your words.

You kick off your feet before you enter. He moves behind you, guiding you from behind with his hands on your arms. He stops you in a dark doorway. He lets go of you and you listen to him shifting around the dimness. He shines a flashlight into the front room.

“Once I get the lights on, it’ll look better,” he assures.

You shake your head, “it’s too much.”

“Nothin’s too much,” he argues again. “Look, you need this place and you need me. You need a husband, don’t ya?”

“Husband? Arvin, you can’t--”

“I wanna.”

“But--”

“Baby boy’s not mine. No one else needa know. Them folks in Knockemstiff, the don’t go so far. And the next one will be mine. Maybe a girl--”

“Next one?”

“Uh huh, gonna give this one lots of brothers and sisters,” he puts his hand on your stomach.

“I...” your heart sinks from on high.

He’s quiet, measuring the silence as you do too. You peer into the front room then wince as he turns the light in your direction. You shield yourself as it shines in your eyes.

“Well, you gonna tell me no?” His voice is low and silty. “Cause I don’t think no one’s gonna take you away from me. Ain’t no one else want you.”

It’s like a knife sinking into your gut. Your frown and grab his hand, trying to shove it off your stomach. Why would he say that? He twists free of your grasp and clings to you instead. He turns the light under his chin so it casts his features in a sinister glow.

“Without me, you and that baby’d be frozen to the side of the street,” he sneers. “All’s I’m tryna do is give you everything, you could at least do the same.”

#arvin russell #dark arvin russell #dark!arvin russell #arving russell x reader #the devil all the time #fic #december daze #navy and roo's sleepover #dark fic #dark!fic

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downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 1 year ago

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The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Prologue

The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Prologue Word Count: 4001 Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Warnings: major angst, major fluff, mentions of murder, crime scenes, near-death experiences, slow-burnish romance, death, canon violence, rape, swearing, guns, knives, prostitution, canon cuteness of the team. Spoilers: Maeve's death, mentions of previous cases or canon events from seasons 1-10.

Spencer and you have an unspoken connection with one another. Nothing has ever happened between you two, especially since everything went down with Maeve, but your love has grown and overcome and is now clear as day to everyone. However, just when Spencer builds up enough courage to ask you out officially, you're requested on an undercover mission that halts your budding relationship in its tracks.

Months go by without a word from you until bodies of prostitutes start showing up in New York and the BAU is brought in to help. Spencer and you finally reunite as both your cases collide, but your lives and your love are both on the line now.

Will you and Spencer be able to find the way back home this time?

~~~

You released a tired, relieved sigh as you and the rest of the team exited the elevator and walked back into the bullpen. You'd just landed back after a week in Utah chasing a serial killer who turned out to be a mormon. He killed in the name of burning out the false children of God from humanity - literally. The Unsub managed to burn six innocent people alive before they apprehended him.

'I cannot wait to go home for a hot bath and a good glass of scotch,' Rossi said, rubbing at the kink in his neck from the sleep home on the plane.

'Ditto,' Alex said. 'James is home for the weekend, and he has promised me some home made pie that I am very much looking forward to.'

You smiled as you reached your desk, the echo of the others adding to the conversation of what they were looking forward to when they got home warming the usually busy room as they passed you. A sense of comfort and relief washed over you as you placed your go-bag on your desk. Hearing all your friends' voices back in the office after a mission was never a guarantee, so you relished every time you heard them, regardless of the conversation.

You looked up when a figure entered your peripheral vision, and that comfort and warm feeling spread further through you when you saw who it was.

'What about you, Y/N?' Spencer said by way of greeting, a soft smile gracing his own tired features. 'What is waiting for you at home on this fine Friday evening?'

You paused to think about it for a second, a content smile tugging at your lips at the thought. 'Well, unless I've been robbed in the last few days, I will be enjoying a nice glass of moscato while I order pasta from the restaurant below my apartment, and snuggle in with my book that I've spent literally months trying to finish,' you said dreamily, the thought of good food and good wine and a good book sounding almost too good to be true. But Garcia had informed the team before landing that no new cases had been submitted and so you had the weekend to yourselves.

'That all?' he asked, amusement dancing on his lips.

You chuckled, shaking your head. 'I know. First Friday night home in DC in a while and I am choosing to stay at home instead. The utter shame of it all.'

You both laughed, and it pleased you to see his amber eyes light up after the long week you'd had.

'I didn't mean that as a bad thing,' Spencer said, brushing a stray curl from out of his eyes. Even though it was the shortest length it'd ever been, some rogue curls still managed to dangle out of confinement every once in a while. 'What book are you reading?'

'Don't laugh at me, but... The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.'

Spencer's brow furrowed curiously. 'Why would I laugh? I love Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's work.'

You shrugged, casually leaning against your desk as you crossed your arms. 'I know, it just seems a little silly that a federal agent is reading some old detective stories.'

'Actually, Doyle was one of the forefathers of detective fiction, as he brought in the concept that the science of deduction isn't just physical evidence but psychological observations. He created a space where all the sciences we know today can help in solving crime, and actually paved the way for more psychological avenues to be taken more seriously in academia and law enforcement. If you think about it, without Sherlock, you and I may not have our jobs as profilers right now.' Spencer paused when he realised he was rambling, and despite your soft, encouraging smile, he saw the tired blankness in your eyes.

Spencer licked his lips before speaking again. 'What I'm trying to say is... I don't think it's silly at all.'

You nodded your thanks although you knew you didn't need to. 'So what about you?', you asked in return. 'What will entertain Dr. Spencer Reid on this "fine Friday evening"?'

His words repeated back to him kept the smile on his face, more importantly the life in his eyes. But he began to fiddle with the strap of his satchel bag, and you couldn't help but notice he slightly swayed. Like he was nervous or something. It was cute.

He was cute.

You forced the rising heat in your cheeks to stay underneath the surface to not give away your embarrassment or your inner thoughts. Thoughts you'd been having since the day you'd met him six years ago. Thoughts that you'd suppressed so as to not interfere with your work, and then later so it wouldn't ruin your hard-built friendship.

When he told you about Maeve, you'd had mixed feelings. Of course, you'd been ecstatic for him that he'd found someone he could be himself with, and even more so when he disclosed to you that no one else knew about her - just you. But you couldn't deny the twinge of sadness that pulled at your heart knowing that that someone he could be himself with wasn't you.

But you hadn't hesitated, hadn't faltered when he'd needed a shoulder to cry on when Maeve was killed. Once he decided to open up and accept help, you were first in line to help keep the young doctor afloat in his sea of grief and loss.

It's been over a year since Maeve's death now, and while she would always remain important in his heart, he had, for the most part, moved on, slowly getting back to be his usual, quirky, logical self.

The past year and a bit has only brought you two closer together, and as much as you have tried to hide how amazing that makes you feel, you've had plenty of conversations with Penelope and others on the team about finally asking the boy wonder out. It's not like you didn't want to, but if Maeve was his type of girl, you just weren't sure you were what Spencer was looking for in a romantic partner. Besides, you were happy with your friendship.

It was by far the most precious relationship you had aside from your family - why ruin it?

You quickly realised you'd both been silent for a while, Spencer still not having answered your question yet. 'Spence?' you prompted gently.

The cute doctor managed to grasp his satchel strap fiercely and ground himself back in the present. 'R-Right. I too have a book at home. The one you got me for my birthday, actually.'

'Oh yes!' The Shining Girls by Lauren Beukes. You'd been hooked from the first line, and by the time you finished, all you could think about was how much you thought Spencer would enjoy it. So you instantly wrapped up your own personal copy and waited for Spencer's birthday to roll around. You never told him it was yours, you just hoped he didn't notice the slight bend in the spine or minuscule tears in some pages from you flipping them too quickly. 'I've been meaning to ask you if you enjoyed it or not. I just assumed you'd read it already.'

'We've just been so busy with cases lately. I haven't had time to even consider picking it up.'

You rolled your eyes. 'Come on, we both know you could've finished that book on one of our plane rides.'

He shrugged, eyes dipping for a moment before landing back on you. 'I know. I guess... I just wanted to give it the time and attention it deserved,' he settled on, and the honesty in both his words and his eyes threatened to steal your breath.

A silence that rested between comfortable and awkward settled upon you two. This had happened many times in recent weeks although you weren't quite sure why. Regardless of your hidden feelings and the tragedy of Maeve, neither of you lost your comfortability with one another.

'So... we've both got book dates tonight,' you said in an attempt to break the silence. The rest of the team was still chatting just a little away from them, but it felt like it was just the two of you sometimes when you talked.

'Well, actually, maybe...' Spencer started, and his fingers were twitching again. 'I was wondering if maybe you'd want t-to bring your book over and... join me, tonight.'

The request wasn't an unusual one. In fact, you'd conducted your own mini book club between the two of you on plenty of occasions. Mainly because you both found out you were the kind of people that liked your personal time and space, but didn't like the thought of being completely alone. This wasn't new, but it warmed your heart all the same at the gesture.

'That sounds great, Spence!' you said heartily. 'Give me half an hour and I'll be around at yours-'

'Actually,' Spencer interrupted, 'I was thinking we could grab some dinner together first. You know, like at a restaurant or some place you can sit in at.'

'...Like a date?' you asked softly, breathlessly. The words just kind of slipped from you before you even contemplated how they would affect Spencer. It just felt natural and right.

Your heart pounded like a jackhammer between your ribs, but you were more concerned at what expression Spencer would pull in the next five seconds.

To your relief, he smiled that small little smile of his that spoke volumes of his insecurity but also of his genuine intentions. 'Yeah. I guess it is like a date,' he finally replied.

Oh my goodness. He was nervous. His words were rushed and higher-pitched in tone. but you still managed to understand him, as well as what dinner implied.

A half-smile pulled at your lips. 'Dr. Spencer Reid,' you began softly, half-scared, half-excited to speak the words you'd been holding back for so long. 'Are you asking me out on a date right now?'

At your words, his anxiety seemed to disappear, as he stopped fidgeting with the satchel strap and took a daring step closer to you. 'I guess I am.'

You couldn't stop it now, the smile of pure joy you'd been holding back from splitting your face open. After years of suffering silently, of repressing the truth, it was all worth it for that one question.

'So what do you say, SSA Y/N L/N,' he quipped cheekily. 'Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?'

The answer was right there in the tip of your tongue, almost spewing from you, when your name was called out across the bullpen for all to hear.

The globe of silence and serenity that had built around Spencer and yourself suddenly shattered as you both, alongside the rest of the team, turned to Hotch standing in his office doorway. But while you all looked at him, his hard gaze was honed in on you.

'L/N,' he called again, having your attention now. 'Can I see you in my office, please?'

You looked between him and Spencer, unsure who to answer first. In the end, you were still technically on the clock so you nodded at your boss and said, 'Sure, I'll be in there shortly.'

'This can't wait, I'm sorry.'

It was the seriousness and discomfort in his voice that caused you to throw aside your personal agenda, giving Spencer an apologetic look before quickly making your way through the bullpen, up the stairs and into his office. You tried not to look at your team too much as you did, but you felt their gazes on the back of your head nevertheless.

They were just as confused as you were, then.

'Close the door,' Hotch instructed gently, to which you obliged. He pointed to the seat on the other side of his desk. 'Have a seat.'

'Everything okay, Hotch?' you asked, taking a seat in the chair. 'Oh no. Did I make an error in one of my reports again?'

'No, nothing like that,' he reassured you, which didn't help your already built up worry. For a moment, it was just you two sitting in his office in silence; you waited for him to explain his mysterious actions, while he seemed to struggle to find the right words.

He never struggled to find the right words.

You leaned forward in your seat, worry furrowing your brow. 'Hotch. What's wrong?'

'Nothing is wrong, so to say,' he insisted, but his frown remained. 'I've just been in contact with your old unit chief from Organised Crime. They believe there is an underground operation being conducted by gang leaders in Manhattan that involves the transporting, selling and purchasing of girls and women in the prostitute industry.'

'Okay,' you drawled out, more confused than ever. 'What has this got to do with us?'

'It doesn't,' Hotch answered immediately. 'Just you. Your old unit chief wants you back to go undercover in the case.'

'What?' You stood up from your seat instead of shouting, but goodness it took all your strength not to. 'Why do they need me? They have a whole squadron of agents to choose from.'

'They want a profiler to help them find out who these people are first, then go undercover and become part of the operation's inner circle and report back to them,' Hotch explained, although his tone displayed his displeasure in saying so. 'Y/N, you have more experience in undercover missions than anyone else on this team, even before you joined us as a profiler.'

You knew his words to be true, but the reality of it all was an ever-growing weight on your chest. 'What they are asking, Hotch, could take weeks, months even. Those kind of people will not trust so easily,' you tried reasoning with him.

You couldn't help but look through the blinds to your team still standing and talking outside in the bullpen. To Spencer, who had joined the team since you had left, but just looked at the window as if he could find out what was going on behind the glass and blinds if he looked long enough. It broke your heart to think you wouldn't see him for months, maybe even years.

Because that was the thing with undercover missions. Once you assumed the life of someone else, your old life became non-existent. That meant no contact with anyone outside of the case as a safety precaution.

That meant no talking to Spencer, or anyone in the BAU, until the case ended. Or unless you were killed, in which case you wouldn't be able to do a lot of talking anyways.

You turned back around at the sound of Hotch standing from his seat and coming around the desk to speak directly in front of you, no walls to hide behind. 'You know I wouldn't be asking if I hadn't tried to change their mind first. But even I can't argue that you are the best agent for the job.'

You nodded your understanding even if you hated to admit he was right. 'I guess it's not one of those jobs that I can decline, is it?'

Hotch shook his head regrettably. 'Head Chief requested for you personally. You've already been taken off the roster here at the BAU so you're not disturbed by other cases.'

Hearing that was just rubbing salt in the wound, and you hated the burning feeling of tears rising at the back of your eyes. You were already gone from here, like a ghost that didn't realise she was one to begin with.

Hotch's hand rested heavy on your shoulder as he comforted you. 'We can discuss your return to work when your mission is over. You will always have a place with us, Y/N.'

You attempted a smile, but it was strained as you tried to force back tears. You wiped at the strays that dribbled down your cheeks, pulling yourself back together before speaking again. 'All right. How long do I have before I am expected in the Big Apple?'

'There's someone waiting for you at your apartment already. They'll take you to their headquarters when you're done packing tonight.'

You sucked in air as you felt your whole world tilt unstably. Tonight. You had to leave tonight. Again, you found yourself seeking out Spencer through the half-closed blinds.

'So what do you say, SSA Y/N L/N? Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?'

You bit your lip as you blinked your tears away, trying but failing to ignore the cry of your heart as its strings were pulled harshly. 'Tonight?' you asked in the hope you'd misheard.

But no such hope existed, unfortunately.

'Yes,' Hotch said, that one word the final nail in the coffin of your impending suffering. 'I'm sorry. This goes without saying, but don't mention any of this to the team as you leave. Only myself and Section Chief Cruz will know where you are and the details of your mission.'

You huffed out a joyless laugh. 'Hiding truths from a team of profilers is like playing poker with a mirror attached to your face,' you said, and you didn't bother to hide your displeasure and sadness when you did. 'They're going to ask questions, and they will find out the truth eventually.'

'Let me worry about that,' Hotch said gently, letting go of you and leaving a cold mark where his hand once was. 'You've got bags to pack.'

'Right.' You sucked in a few deep breaths before making your way to the door. tears burned at your eyes again but you couldn't let the team see you like this. You couldn't let Spencer see you like this.

Because you had a job to do. And you always finished a job.

Before you could open the door handle, however, Hotch stopped you once more. 'Y/N.'

You looked at him, forcing an expression of blankness and indifference. 'Yes, sir?'

He must've seen your inner struggle, as he offered one of those genuine smiles of his that were oh so rare. 'We'll see you when you get back,' he said.

It wasn't a promise or a done deal, but it was the most hope you could ask for right now. So you smiled your thanks, nodded your goodbye, and opened the door back into the bullpen.

Immediately, all eyes set upon you and the room grew quiet. Your first instinct was to cry, then to run, then to blurt everything out because you hated keeping secrets. But you remembered what had just been said, and you whipped a bright smile onto your face to hide your despair.

'Don't you guys have homes to go to?' you asked cheerily, walking down the stairs as casually as possibly. You would've bee-lined for your bag, but if you moved too quickly they would suspect something. 'I recall hot baths and scotch were awaiting most of us, are they not?'

Thankfully Rossi took the bait, and picked up his go-bag in a huge huff. 'The lady is right. I spend enough time with you people as is, I am not wasting anymore not drinking and soaking.'

'Soaking in what? The bath or scotch?' JJ asked, also picking up her go-bag to make her way back to the elevator.

The group devolved into laughs and other jests, and you breathed a sigh of relief as you picked up your go-bag and followed them. Before you could though, a gentle call of your name halted you in your tracks, out of both politeness and frozen fear.

'Hey,' Spencer started, looking between you and Hotch's office. 'What was all that about?'

'Oh, uh, nothing super important,' you said, scrambled as you words were. 'Just a paperwork issue. Again.'

He broke out in smile that set your heart aflutter despite your inner turmoil. 'You know, you really shouldn't do paperwork on the plane when you're tired if you're just going to make a mistake. You're better off leaving it to the morning when your brain and body has rested enough to comprehend what the paperwork is asking of you.'

'Well sorry if I don't want to do a mountain of paperwork when I come back into the office,' you countered, grateful for the playful distraction as you made it over to the elevator. The others were just piling in when Spencer halted you again.

'So...' he dragged out, eyes flickering between you and teh floor nervously, '...what do you say?'

'To what?' you asked.

'To dinner. You didn't have time to give me an answer before.'

Shit. Your voice failed you now as you grasped at words - any words - to tell him. Your heart screamed yes, but there was someone waiting for you back home. A home you wouldn't be visiting for who knows how long.

Capitalising on your gaping mouth, you forced out a yawn and feigned covering it up out of embarrassment. 'Oh my goodness, sorry about that. Um, actually, now that you mention it, I am pretty beat. I'm just... going to go home and sleep it off if that's all right.'

It pained you to see his smile drop at your words, to see the hope leave his beautiful eyes at your rejection. And you knew you shouldn't say anything or make promises you couldn't keep, but you couldn't just leave him with no hope.

'Maybe next week sometime,' you offered, hoping your smile could bring some of that light back. 'You know, you've never tried the Italian Restaurant under my apartment before. We could go there. On me.'

Instinctively, you reached for his hand, relishing in the warmth it held and brought into you. To your relief, he didn't pull away. Instead, you got your smile back, and a little light returned to his eyes. You were kind of glad you wouldn't be around when the light left him completely.

'Okay,' he said softly, surprising you with a gentle squeeze of your hand in his. 'It's a date.'

'Yeah,' you replied, trying and failing to push aside the fluttering sensation his words gave your heart. You were only prolonging not only your pain, but his.

Selfish. So selfish.

'Come on, you two,' Derek called out from the elevator. 'I can't hold these doors open forever. Savannah will kill me if I miss our dinner reservations.'

You both quickly made it in to the elevator before Derek let them close on you, and then you were caught up in the chaos that was your team. You weren't sure how you got onto the topic of what scotch goes best with what foods, but you didn't care. It made you happy to know they never let the weight of a dark case get in the way of living their own lives to them fullest.

You all reached the car park and before you could make a run for your car, Spencer called out to you. 'See you Monday, Y/N!'

You turned back around to face not only him, but Derek, JJ, Penelope, Alex, and David as they all slowly went for their cars too.

You caught yourself staring at them, taking their happy faces in one last time before you left them behind. Hotch said you'd always have a place with the BAU, but you weren't sure how long this mission would take. And if you'd be replaced by then.

You forced a smile onto your face and waved them farewell. 'Yeah, see you then.'

You hated the bitter taste the lie brought to your mouth, but you managed to keep it together long enough that you got in your car and drove out of the car park without any more issues. That's when the tears came.

You wouldn't be there next Monday, and were not getting that date with Spencer next week.

It hurt you more to think that you may not get that date at all.

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chuuyrr · 2 years ago

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scarlet witch! baby fushiguro! reader meeting the decay of angel

bungo stray dogs x reader x jujutsu kaisen

masterlist of the series

╰➤ CW(s): possible spoilers for bungou stray dogs, fluff/wholesome platonic content, jealous! fyodor maybe (?)

╰➤ PAIRING(s): platonic! bungou stray dog x child! reader (nikolai gogol, sigma & fyodor dostoevsky, but mostly nikolai)

╰➤ SYNOPSIS: in which you, the little scarlet witch adoptive child reader supposedly belonging to the world of curses under the care of gojo satoru, the limitless and strongest sorcerer alive, ends up at the hands of a terrorist organization known as decay of angel ! click to view the full request here.

wasn't in the mood for writing a literal crossover of jjk and bsd so the context of the writing won't be sw! baby fushi accepting invitation—i changed it a bit, hope it's ok <3

this was the first time the armed detective agency noticed dazai osamu in distress. knowing the said person, dazai remained relatively calm and was rarely surprised, given how he was always on top of things with his tactical intelligence and detective abilities.

"how could we have lost [name]?!" kunikida screamed at the brunet, who was now in the same panic as dazai, "she was just here a minute ago!"

"i don't know how! i checked cafe uzumaki, the storage room—everywhere!" exclaimed dazai, "we were just playing and the next thing i know [name]-chan's no longer by my side!"

dazai was now biting his nails and his eyes were frantic. as surprised and panicked he was, this wasn't the first time he lost sight of you, considering your troublesome age of a toddler and you having a special ability that he cannot nullify due to it being "chaos magic". dazai usually finds you. he always does, which is why he's usually calm, but this time he couldn't find you, and to make matters worse, fukuzawa and ranpo wasn't present to make things easier.

"surely [name]-chan couldn't have run off that far," atsushi tried to lighten up the mood, "unless she went back home without telling us."

"atsushi's right. calm down, we'll find [name]," yosano exclaimed, waving her hands up and down.

"if only i could nullify [name]-chan's ability.. that little bella wouldn't have run away.." dazai sighed, running his fingers through his short yet messy brown hair, "i have a bad feeling about this. it's not like of [name]-chan to just leave without me or any of us with her."

dazai then took a deep breath before yelling across the office, "AHH! WHERE THE HECK IS [NAME]-CHAN?!"

it definitely wasn't like you at all to vanish from the sight of dazai and the armed detective agency just like that.

however, while you were playing with dazai with the toys he bought you ever since you started coming by at his world, he only looked away for a second and you were gone without a trace, with him initially thinking you simply decided to hide under the desk or by the sofa.

as you bolted towards the man you knew, the pitter patter of your shoes was quick and light. despite being well hidden from plain sight, you instantly recognized him from afar, waving at you with a closed-eye smile, which is why you left the armed detective agency office.

"fyodor!" you gigglingly wrapped your tiny arms around his legs as soon as you reached him.

"my, my," fyodor's cold hand patted the top of your head, gently ruffling your hair as he looked down at you, "hello, little one."

your little secret from dazai and the armed detective agency was fyodor. you've met him before and grew close to him. in fact, he was the one who guided you back to dazai or any of the armed detective agencies or port mafias you were familiar with whenever you got lost.

fyodor was a friend who you grew to regard as an older brother or uncle. it was strange, though, how he refused to let the others know about you and your familiarity towards him, especially dazai, but you didn't think much of it.

it's not like fyodor was a bad person to stay away from or anything, right?

"did you miss me?" you asked with a smile, giggling softly.

"of course, i haven't seen my malyshka in a long time. i was beginning to think you enjoyed hanging out with those stray dogs more," fyodor said with a fake sad tone.

"hey, that's not true! i like hanging out with you too!" you pouted and shook your head, tightening your tiny arms around his legs.

"well, i'm glad to hear it," fyodor chuckled softly, shaking his head, "and i hope you don't mind me whisking you away from them for a while. i have been meaning to introduce you to some of my acquaintances."

"huh? what does that mean? 'aquantances'..?" you tipped your head to the side in confusion.

"it's ac-quaint-ances. malyshka," fyodor explained, correctly enunciating the word for you as he picked you up from the ground when you started making grabby-hands for him. he then gently booped your nose with the tip of his finger, "and i mean my friends."

it didn't take long for fyodor to lead you to a somewhat dark and secluded location, but being the bubbly and naive child that you were, you didn't think much of it. it honestly just reminded you of choso and his brothers' hideout, and besides, your wiggly-woos magic was unrivaled. in a way.

"DOSTOY!"

you perked up when you heard a ukrainian accent boomed in the atmosphere. you immediately clung to fyodor, wrapping your tiny arms around his neck in surprise, as a white-haired man dressed in an outfit as eccentric as his personality and resembling a circus ringmaster darted towards you both.

when you decided to bury your face in his neck out of surprise as he carried you with one arm, fyodor's free hand gently patted your back. "tsk, you frightened the little one," he sighed.

"little one, you say?" the circus ringmaster-like man uttered in confusion.

he looked over at you, watching as you slowly lifted your head and turned to look at him with big and somewhat wary [color] eyes, your tiny hands still clinging to the fur of fyodor's coat and the collar of his shirt. when he saw you, his unveiled scarred eye instantly widened.

"oh my goodness! could you be the little dove that dostoy had been telling us about?" he exclaimed, clutching his gloved hands together, "you're so small!"

as he felt you cling to him again, fyodor reassured you by gently rubbing your back to comfort you this time, "no need to fret."

"exactly as dostoy said. fear not, my little dove!" the man exclaimed, but you were still as cautious as a scared kitten, despite your curiosity and interest.

with that, you slowly reached out your hands for him, but as soon as you did, he snatched you from fyodor's grasp and twirled you in the air, tossing you a little while in the process. being the child you were, you burst out laughing and smiling at this action.

"what a precious little dove you are!" he exclaimed, placing you on the ground before kneeling down to your height, "hohoho~ want to see a magic trick?"

your eyes widened with excitement. you absolutely loved magic. you cried out, "yes!"

you watched as he wrapped his cloak around his torso and left arm. he didn't take long to remove the cloak and extend a small bouquet of red roses fit for a toddler's hand with his left hand. the roses were no longer thorny. it had already been trimmed, indicating that it was safe to give to a child like you.

'hmm, to think nikolai would have such a soft spot for children,' fyodor chuckled, 'but then again, he was the most excited when i told them I'd introduce the little witch with a special ability to the decay of angel.'

"a bouquet of red roses for milady!" he exclaimed, making exaggerated hand gestures towards the small bouquet.

"rosies! i love rosies!" you gasped, joyfully accepting the bouquet of flowers and bouncing on the balls of your feet.

"thank you, err, mister.." you paused and scrunched your brow, realizing you hadn't really gotten his name yet.

"who am i you ask, little dove?" the white-haired man stood up, doing a little spin that made you laugh as he bowed his head before you with a gloved hand to his chest, "well, the name's nikolai! nikolai gogol at your service!"

"see, malyshka? i told you there was nothing to fre—" fyodor was cut off when you darted straight back to nikolai, giggling and smiling, as he accepted the embrace of your tiny arms around his legs by picking you up and carrying you in his arms once more.

"aww, what a clingy little dove you are my dear!" nikolai exclaimed, his voice in a high-pitched baby like tone as nuzzled his face against yours affectionately as he carried you, "come here!"

"goodness.." fyodor uttered with a slight glare.

who would have guessed you'd warm up to the clown so quickly, with the clown loving you almost immediately in return? well, given your age, children find clowns and magicians to be very interesting and entertaining. so fyodor easily understood why you warmed up to nikolai. not only that, but with your "special ability," you'd naturally be interested in magic.

you clung to nikolai this time, enjoying the little magic tricks he'd show you with his ability. nikolai made bunnies and doves appear from his hat and cape, which you adored, while also lavishing you with affection, such as head pats and small boops on the nose.

he just acted like dazai osamu, but most importantly, so much like your adoptive loving father, gojo satoru, back at your home.

"you can hand [name] back to me now," fyodor said, his eyes closed, insisting on taking you back.

"nonsense, dos-kun! i can carry the little dove all by myself!" nikolai shook his head, causing you to laugh and the russian man to frown.

another of fyodor's friends eventually came around to meet you. you were still being carried by nikolai, who refused to let you go even though fyodor insisted on carrying you next.

"what is the meeting for? why is there a child?" the three of you directed your eyes towards the young man with long straight white and lilac hair that reached his waist, dressed in a coat and black pants fit for a manager.

"ah, sigma! you're just in time!" nikolai said, waving a hand at him, "look at what dos-kun brought us! a child!" with that, nikolai held you out to sigma, smiling.

sigma's eyes widened as he pointed a finger at you, "d-did you kidnap her, dostoevsky?!"

"me? kidnap a child? [name]'s a friend. isn't that right, malyshka?" fyodor glanced at you to which you nodded your head in response.

"fyodor said he wanted me to introduce to you guys. he said you guys were his friends!" you said, throwing your arms in the air as you leapt from nikolai's arms, causing him to pout a little in a childish manner.

"yes.. friends.." sigma's sweat dropped at your utter naivety of the situation, "that's right.."

"my name's fushiguro [name], but you can call me [name] like fyodor and nikolai does!" you said before sprinting up to him and wrapping your tiny arms around his pant leg, "i like your pretty hair and clothes! especially the sparkly bit on the inside of your coat!"

"e-eh? err, t-thank you!" sigma stammered and coughed. he was clearly not expecting the sudden compliment, "it's nice meeting you too."

sigma patted your head and ruffled your [color]-hair, before glaring at fyodor and nikolai, "but i still don't understand what this child is doing here with us, dostoevsky, gogol,"

"[name]'s the little witch i've been telling you all about—the one with the special ability," with that, fyodor's deep purple eyes darkened.

"are you sure?! how can a child terribly so young like [name] possess such special ability?" Sigma asked, peering down at you in surprise.

"i'm not mistaken; she's the one," fyodor exclaimed as he approached you.

"[name], would you mind showing my acquaintances your special ability?" fyodor knelt down in front of you, smiling.

"my wiggly-woos magic?" you asked as you tipped your head to the side.

"mhm, your wiggly-woos magic," fyodor nodded, continuing to speak to you in an incredibly soft and endearing tone like a siren, "nikolai and sigma would like to see it."

"m'kay!" you smiled in response, giggling.

sigma and nikolai watched as you lifted your hand and twitched your fingers. when a red glow began to emanate from your fingertips, and eventually your entire hand, they both stared in awe, their mouths agape. you waved your hand, and the three of them were glowing red and floating in mid-air before they knew it.

nikolai blinked profusely, a wide smile on his face, "it's telekinesis!"

"incredible! we're being held by some sort of red psionic energy," sigma said, his eyes narrowing slightly, "and it feels somewhat heavy as well.."

you darted towards nikolai again after giving them a taste of your magic's red psionics, which made fyodor frown a little because he may or may not have thought you'd run up to him.

however, instead of running as usual. the pitter patters of your shoes were so light as a feather that no one could hear them. you had walked in a fast forward motion in a blink of an eye, as you decided to cling to and hug nikolai's pant leg, giggling.

"her psionic energy augmented her speed!" sigma was impressed—even more so.

"you truly are special, little dove!" nikolai patted your head affectionately, cooing at you once more in a high-pitched baby-like voice, "such a talented and brilliant cutie pie you are!~"

"so that's why you chose to befriend and bring this child to us, dostoevsky," sigma murmured as he trotted towards fyodor.

"from turning papers into real living butterflies to healing a person in a similar fashion with the doctor from the armed detective agency," fyodor folded his arms across his chest, his purple eyes staring intently at the exchange between you and nikolai, "[name] is no doubt special, her ability isn't just simply telekinesis. it is so much more than that, and i've seen it myself. [name] can warp reality, and it's how she even she came here to us, in our world,"

"fyodor!" you cried, disappearing into a red mist only to reappear in front of him, but instead of surprising fyodor, it was sigma who jumped.

"yes, malyshka?" fyodor immediately switched up and smiled down at you.

"tea party! i wanna have a tea party with you, sigma, and kolya!" you giggled, bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet.

"tea party? kolya?" fyodor tilted his head at you, chuckling softly at your little request and newfound nickname for the clown.

"pleaseee?" you clasped your hands together, giving fyodor puppy dog eyes as you took his much larger hand in addition to sigma's.

"do you not want to return to dazai and the others, [name]?" fyodor inquired, but, he was already mentally smirking.

you were so easy to convince and you had no idea they were literal terrorists under the organization known as the decay of angel as a child, with your bubbly and trusting personality.

"dazai-nii and the others can wait," you said to fyodor as you proceeded to tug his and sigma's hands with your own tiny hands.

"a tea party it is with our little dove~" nikolai chimed, giggling fondly at you before glancing at fyodor and sigma with a smirk.

"if you say so, malyshka," fyodor squeezed your hand ever so gently, unable to hide his smirk anymore this time, "your wish is our command."

[ author's notes ! i'd like to thank bungo stray dogs season 4 because honestly watching the new episodes inspired me to write for little reader finally meeting nikolai and sigma. still not writing for fukuchi and bram though. sorry i haven't updated in such a long while. i blame physics and thesis for it >:( anyway, i hope you enjoyed this dear anon, thank you <3 ]

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firefirefruit · 1 year ago

Text

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Three

Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Three: The Golden Medallion

“No. Absolutely not,” you respond angrily, feeling the fire lurching up in your throat.

“Why not?” Luffy pouts deeply. Although his physical body is laying idle a few metres away, his face is hanging uncomfortably close to yours - the only explainable reason being that his neck’s so stretched out that it’s formed into the shape of a bamboo pole.

You childishly frown and point at the guy standing beside the remains of Luffy.

“I don’t want to work for the Bull-Boy,” you say.

“Who’re you calling Bull-Boy?” Bull-Boy snaps.

“Our cook is really good, and we go on cool adventures and stuff,” Luffy pushes on with a very underwhelming attempt at persuasion. You want to laugh out loud – it feels like he’s trying to coax you into his crew as if you’re some stray cat – but as much effort as it takes, you remain completely stoic.

Chopper is handled in Luffy’s vice-like grip like a helpless doll, who is then shoved in your nose; the wide-eyed reindeer looks at you in stupefaction.

“Look - our doctor’s cute.”

“She accepts your offer, Luffy-boy,” Gramps calmly says. You snap your head at him with a terrifying, bone-chilling glare on your face.

“That is not your decision to make,” you hiss angrily, fingertips growing warmer by the second.

“You’ve been getting your way since you were eight. So, now I’m deciding.”

“Have you gone insane by any chance?” You bark out as flames lick the strands surrounding your face. Has he forgotten how dangerous both of your lives are? As far as anyone knows, merely existing – breathing - shouldn’t be happening for the either of you two in this very moment.

With a loud Twang! and Snap! Luffy’s head recoils back to his body in an alarmingly fast momentum, his rubber neck slinging back like hitting a homerun. It seems like it’s now Gramps’ turn to be ambushed.

“Really? Are you sure, pops?” The captain bounces, beaming in Gramps’ face, in which Gramps boyishly beams back, completely undeterred by the rubber boy.

“Absolutely.”

“Cool! When can Swords join?”

“Hmm, she needs to repair the Marimo’s swords so…” Gramps taps a knobbly finger to his chin, looking incredibly nonchalant in thought. “Is a week’s time good for you?”

You cannot believe this. A pirate and an old man you’ve known since you were born are discussing your arrangements as if you’re a child moving between divorced parents.

“A week? That’s pretty long, pops. How about a day?”

A loud guffaw rings in the air. “Absolutely not. Blades require time.”

Luffy makes a dissatisfied noise in his throat, making the marimo shoot him a glare.

“Oi, Luffy. I’m staying here until my blades are done.”

“Stop talking to each other as if I’m not here!” You exclaim frustratedly. “I’m not joining, I’m not doing it.”

“Luffy, don’t you think you’re going too far?” Nami steps beside you, her forehead creasing. She glances at the flames rolling around your fingers like serpentine coils.

Luffy pouts at her in confusion. “But I wanna be friends with Swords…”

“Why?” Bull-boy scoffs.

That’s it. You’ve had enough.

“Listen - I appreciate the offer, but I decline,” you announce as calmly as you’re able to. You turn to everyone in the room, eyeing them all with your usual hard-headedness and meaning. “That’s my last say.”

Luffy silently stares at you, looking baffled as to why you don’t want to join him on his adventures so badly. You quickly look away from his questioning gaze, trying your best not to reveal anything across your face.

You walk towards the hardened metallic puddle on the floor and crouch.

“What my old man said was wrong - frankly, I can’t fix your swords, Marimo. Even before they were liquefied, you presented me with scrap metal and not swords. Much to his opinion…”

You stare at your Gramps from a distance, not only frustrated with his foolish shenanigans, but of the permanent glint that lives in his eyes. He’s not underestimating your skills, no. He’s testing you. He wants to see whether you’re going to give out the right prognosis for these blades. It makes you want to roll your eyes knowing that he does this with every client who comes to your shop since you were about fifteen.

“…Fixing some swords would take me three days. Remaking them, though, will take a week.”

The swordsman unfolds his arms. “You can’t remake any of them. They’re all—"

“Wado Ichimonji, Sandai Kitetsu, Enma…” You list off the swords that…used to be in his possession. “We own all the initial blueprints to your blades.”

“What? How?”

Of course, he has a point - no other swordsmith would even dream of having these legendary blueprints laying so casually in their keep. But if you explain how and why and who and where, then your whole cover would be blown.

Being a Kozuki isn’t just for show. You've met multiple disciples and predecessors of different legendary swordsmiths thanks to the privilege of your name. You have worked alongside them, learned from them, been gifted with their precious scripts once they decided that you were worthy of them.

The Enma blade comes from your clan, of course. Your uncle, Kozuki Oden - this is – or was - his sword, so why is it in this green-head’s hands now?The Sandai Kitetsu, too – wasn’t that your own gramps’ sword once upon a time?

And then… the Wado Ichimonji. Pain spreads across your chest when you think of that sword – more specifically, of the previous wielder to it.

When Bull-Boy first arrived in your shop and you began to sense the type and make of these three swords, it completely took you off guard. Imagine a random guy showing up with two of your family heirlooms, and one who used to be your dear friend’s, in his possession, completely broken and disregarded in their sheaths.

You knew your Gramps could sense the make of those swords, too – he was the one who taught you most of what you now know. So why was it that when he was walking alongside him, he was completely relaxed? Not only relaxed, but elated and laughing? It didn’t make sense to you – to you, this guy is a thief. An uncaring thief who isn’t aware of the heavy histories that lay within those blades. It makes you furious thinking back on it.

“Come back in seven days and you’ll see for yourself,” you manage to muster out.

“I don’t get it.”

Oh, God. Is he really that dense?

“We. Make. Swords. Come. Back…Seven.” You shove seven fingers in his face. “Seven days.” Maybe acting it out with your hands will stick better in his empty head.

Bull-head kisses his teeth vexedly. “What is it with you two and the weird words?”

Gramps giggles pleasantly, waving his hand. “She learns from the best.”

Silence.

“You two are related?” Both Luffy and the Bull question.

“Have you been checked out for the whole of this conversation or what?” Chopper exclaims heatedly, climbing over them to smack both on the head.

“Honestly…” Nami says, disapprovingly glaring at them.

Shoving down all the feelings and desires of wanting to form companionship with these strangers, you turn your back and walk to the back door.

“Our shop’s closed,” you simply say, ashamed of the fact that you’re being so closed off. They won’t listen if you act otherwise, you think. It must be done.

Suddenly, a pair of hooves patter in a rush towards you and you feel your shirt being lightly tugged. You look down.

Chopper looks at you imploringly, and utter warmth washes into your heart.

“Is it still okay if we come back tomorrow with Franky?” He mumbles anxiously.

Unable to fight against your feelings anymore, a small smile brushes across your lips as you take in the sight of the doe-eyed doctor.

“We would be very grateful, Chopper.”

He blushes before giving you a strong nod, seeming relieved with your response.

With everyone else remaining silent, you finally take that as your queue to escape from the overwhelming parade of people in the room; all you want to do is to be completely absorbed in your work and to mourn over what could have been.

Later in the evening, as your unexpected guests take their leave after their lively hang-out with popular Gramps, you hear the door to the workshop turn and click shut.

The small domes of light resting on your walls warm up your home like fireflies humming alive, harmoniously buzzing and merging with the sound of your electric tools. The comforting sound of your Gramps’ footsteps close in on your small studio like clockwork, and you’re secretly glad that you’re able to hear them outside of your room once again.

Knock. Knock.

You keep staring at the torn letters that you’re attempting to preserve, your palms gingerly brushing across them like fragile artefacts.

“Come in,” you mumble, adjusting the neck of the warm light on your desk.

The door creaks to an open. There’s a silence as Gramps stands there for a few seconds before he shuffles towards you.

It’s quiet between you and your Gramps when he takes the old bench besides you – once upon a time, that used to be his mentoring seat when he examined the quality of your work. It creaks against his weight, and he grumbles out a little from the struggle.

He searches for your eyes, a kind smile on his lips, but yours are permanently glued to the work in your hands. You desperately try to avoid his attention on you.

“Raya…” Gramps gently says, putting a strong hand on your shoulder. “Let’s talk.”

“Sure. What’s up?” You try to ask as casually as possible regardless of the anxiety that’s dangerously bubbling up in your chest.

His warm hand moves away from your shoulder to place them over your hands, lightly lowering the letters away from your face. You lock eyes with your grandpa, slightly frowning.

“Can I ask you a question?” He cocks his head slightly.

“Okay.”

Gramps looks at you with curiosity in his eyes, his lips pursed tightly.

“What are you scared of?”

You pause, taken aback by this line of questioning. “What?”

“Your fear is palpable. Anyone with eyes can sense it,” he says, glancing over at the cracked medallion resting in the little groove of your desk. The family crest glints sharply across its surface, etched deeply into its golden skin. “This is what you wanted.”

“I wanted to learn and work on my craft – not to become some hot shot back home, and definitely not to join a pirate crew,” you correct while watching your Gramps reach out for the medallion.

The medallion spins heavily within his crafty hands as he observes the damage underneath the glow of your desk light. “Can you pass me the solder?”

You grab the coil of gold alloy from an open drawer, placing it in his open palm.

“I don’t want you to relish so much over what I’m about to tell you, but I think it’s time.”

Your ears perk up immediately whilst your hot red finger lays against the uncoiled wire, acting as a makeshift soldering iron. As gramps sets the wire across the coin, your finger melts it into a pool of gold, slowly flooding through the wide gaps across its surface.

“You have nothing more to learn, Raya,” he says matter-of-factly. “Your education with me is ending today.”

You swallow hard, completely speechless.

“What?”

He looks up from the medallion and stares at you straight in your eyes. “Do you remember how difficult it was to convince the clan to let you go of your leadership duties?”

You laugh out a little, nodding your head. “I had to steal some of your glue back in your workshop and glue my hands on an anvil. They didn’t know what to do.”

“They saw the same fire in your eyes that Kotetsu had eons ago - apparently, you two seem to be like two sides of the same blade. It shocked them so much that they had to change your path right then and there, to let you grow into your natural form, to become one hell of a legendary swordsmith…

“I remember having that discussion with the higher ups. It’s not like they’d refuse a former Shonen, but I wanted to make things clear that I was leaving. With you. Because if you and I stayed, we would’ve been found by the wrong people—”

“And we’d be dead,” you answer automatically. “I know.”

He nods with a smile on his face, heating up more of the gold alloy with your finger. “From then on, I taught, I lectured, I was – at times – cruel...”

He’s not wrong about that. A vivid memory of Gramps throwing away your half-made blades every time you would make even the tiniest little mistake flashes in your head.

“I taught you to fight and defend yourself with your very own weapons, to ingrain into you the importance of the objects that you bring into the world. I tried to make you stronger, to let you work on the thing that you have always loved the most. I tried to always make you into a better swordsmith than you were yesterday. And I hope I was somewhat helpful in that regard.”

“Of course,” you mumble quietly, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for your grandfather.

“You were my granddaughter as you were my apprentice...but now…” Although he’s trying his best to hide his face away, you manage to notice a few tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. “But now, you’re one of the best swordsmiths our clan has been honoured with. Dare I say, I think you're almost on par with Kotetsu.”

The breath you’re holding gets thickly lodged in your throat and you thoughtlessly pull your finger away, staring helplessly at your old man. Gramps turns to face you, forcing his tears to stay in his eyes a little while longer as he slaps his palm onto yours.

Pulling his hand away, the golden medallion of your clan glows as good as new in your hand.

“No one else in the world can teach you now, Raya - except for experience. And you need to see the world for that, Raya. You need to live.”

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dandyfelines · 1 year ago

Text

Donro University AU (wip)

A late submission for Day 6: AU of @donro-week

It's only half-finished and not beta-read but, well, it's a University AU with a little bit of a spin on Donald and Gyro's personalities.

Gyro Gearloose prided himself on his ability to solve nearly any problem. He was the self-proclaimed inventor of almost anything. Throughout school, he made little gadgets for his classmates; some of his favourites were a device that perfectly steadied a compass, a machine that restored soggy lunchbox food to a fresh state, and a hyper-accurate paper ball flinger to get back at an irritating bully. In academia, he excelled, and people came to him for help working out a puzzling formula.

In his pursuit of heightening the limits of his inventions, he found an enriching opportunity in engineering research at Duckburg University. Prominent minds such as Professor Ludwig von Drake would be amongst his co-workers if he researched there, so in a short matter of time he created a research proposal that they couldn't refuse.

Under one condition. He had to teach a class.

He had never taught before, but he was good at helping people. Surely, teaching was simply an extended version of that. He would craft the parts and tinker with the variables necessary to create a functional, informative curriculum.

He covered every detail the textbook required of him, and more. He stayed up watching the lectures of Professor Ludwig von Drake and took notes on how to improve upon his lessons.

Yet, in spite of overwhelming evidence, a good scientist knew to qualify his statements carefully: Gyro Gearloose, the inventor of almost anything.

He read the emails from his students and, he wouldn’t admit it, a review on an anonymous professor rating website. They could be summarised into two types of feedback:

“Lectures confusing” “Professor Gearloose is a brilliant inventor, but cannot teach to save his life.”

Gyro Gearloose’s tall, lanky figure slunk into his chair. His body sagged down like a sack of potatoes.

--------------------------

"... So if you just report the results of your test in this format, you can use the data to formulate your own hypothesis."

The young moorhen sitting across from him stroked her red beak. "Oh, I see now. I guess I misunderstood the instructions. But… how do I know which theories to apply?"

"You have to think about it on your own! If you run the tests again, it will make sense."

"Hm, alright. I have to go, Professor. Thanks for your time."

"Of course, if you need help again, just use my office hours." Gyro sighed. Milly was a hard-worker who did well in most courses, but she was the worst performing student in his class. Her understanding of math wasn't bad, so Gyro did not know how to help her. All of his students had potential to be clever thinkers, but they were befuddled in his classroom.

--------------------------

Gyro’s mind worked at high speed. They possessed his hands. Out tumbled the numbers and theorems through furious scratching of chalk. The board was all his to fill.

Knock-knock.

The chalk came to a halt. A synapse was snapped. Gyro bemoaned the lost train of thought, but he hollered, “Come in!”

“Sorry, is now a good time?” That voice belonged to the receptionist of student services.

“What do you need?” Gyro set down the chalk.

A familiar duck’s face peered through the crack of the door. He had white fluffy feathers, and stray ones curled on his forehead and tail. He wore his usual outfit, a sweater vest and a puffy red bowtie. Donald stepped into his room, slow and deliberate.

"Well, I have another request from one of your students. They said this new lecture covered content not in the textbook, so they want you to share some additional reading on that topic."

"Yeah, I received about twenty emails this morning telling me the same." Gyro sighed.

"Right. And I wanted to ask for your permission to form an official study support session for your class. If that's ok, I'll go ahead and organise it."

Gyro clutched onto the edge of the desk and frowned. Then, he took a deep breath. "No. That's not quite what I had in mind. No, I ought to be in charge of this problem." He tapped a finger on his chin. "I know they find it confusing, but it's my job as their professor to guide them. Maybe I just need to invent a device that simplifies my speech, or I could make a script generator that factors in what students need in a lesson… "

Donald stepped backwards. He took out a notebook from his pocket and flipped through a few pages. "Well… if you're sure you can help them before midterm, I suppose..."

Gyro nodded. "I'm sure I can solve this. You'll see."

--------------------------

Two weeks later, time allocated to his office hours dwarfed his research progress. A barrage of emails from confused students flooded his inbox. The negative reviews on that website only increased.

"I just don't understand. I tried to use a script with simplified language instead of improvising on the spot, but they are still confused." Gyro bit into his sandwich.

Sitting across from him, Ludwig von Drake scratched his head. "Hm, sounds like a tricky class. Have you tried to give quizzes? See what they do and don't know."

"Of course I have, and I reviewed the problem areas they had trouble with. But then when it comes to new content, the problem arises again! I just can't figure out what is causing it. It takes too much time away from my research to create a new review session every week."

"Well, perhaps you could get some advice from my nephew. You know, he could probably find you since good resources."

Gyro blinked. "Nephew? How can he help?"

"Why, he's a whiz at finding information on just about any topic. You've seen it for yourself, surely."

"Just to be clear, your nephew is–"

“Oh, hiya Gyro! And Uncle Ludwig!” Donald pranced over to their table, using a single hand to carry a tray above his head.

Gyro grimaced as some soup splashed on his wrist when Donald slammed the tray down.

"Ah, there he is!" Ludwig beamed at Donald, who was now scraping a nearby chair across the floor to make a table for three.

"Hope it's fine if I join you!" Donald picked up a spoon.

"You've already made yourself welcome," Gyro commented.

Ludwig turned to his nephew and directed his attention to Gyro with a flat palm. "Say, Donald. Gyro here has a problem with making clear lectures. Do you know of anything he can use to improve?"

He tapped his beak with the spoon. "Well, there's a website I like to refer to for teaching methods. And I must have an old textbook in my office on basic pedagogy." Donald looked at Gyro. "What are you teaching right now?"

“Newtonian mechanics!” Gyro grumbled. “The textbook teaches it even though it is an outdated system!”

Donald hummed. “Well… most subjects are like that. The introductory level is simplified for a reason, you know.”

Gyro shook his head. “But I’m sure these students will be able to learn much better if they start with the concepts that account for our modern understanding the best.”

“Surely that's not how you started learning engineering?”

"I didn't need the school system to teach me that."

"I see… well, in any case I can find a resource to help you teach. If you apply these concepts to your class, I'm sure their testing scores will improve."

"Oh, that's not necessary."

Donald held up a hand to silence him. "I insist! My main work is student support, but I've been known to help staff too."

Gyro tapped his fingers against the table. "You don't understand. I'm trying to set these students up to have an investigative approach to inventing. Build important research skills, figure out how systems interact through observation. I don't need help teaching the material or upping test scores. It's about getting them to think more critically."

Donald shrunk into the seat. "I can still send you some resources."

Ludwig looked between the two of them. "Goodness, I’ll leave you two to sort this out.”

--------------------------

Gyro looked at the results of the tests. They were lower than he expected, and the most commonly missed questions were from material he had covered in his lectures twice. Then he came across Milly’s test. Apprehensively, he graded it, checking through the questions. There was a marked increase in depth and comprehension to her short form responses. She had compared the similarities and overlap between two different principles and speculated on the potential ways these could be applied in practice. Pleased, Gyro wrote her grade down. It still wasn't at the level he'd expect, but for this student, it was a great improvement.

Though, as one who made a living of research and experiments, a question tugged at his curiosity. Why did she perform well on this test? He hadn’t changed anything in his teaching for the previous lectures. The test itself was formatted and questions selected exactly as the mock exam was, so it couldn't be that, either.

Gyro decided to ask her. He could use that knowledge to help the other students succeed.

--------------------------

“Professor, thanks again for explaining this to me.” Milly slid the textbook in her backpack.

“Of course. Seems like you’re getting a better grasp of things!”

“I figured out a study method that works for me,” she said.

This was what he wanted to know. “Could you tell me what you changed in your studying approach?”

Milly zipped her bag as she spoke, “It wasn’t really me, but I went to the student support services and they showed me different studying tips and methods.”

That had his attention. “...I see. Well, it seems to be working for you, so you’re on the right path. I’ll see you next week.”

“See you, Professor.” She exited his office.

Gyro turned around to his computer and stared at the emails from Donald he had left unopened.

--------------------------

What was Donald doing right that he couldn’t grasp? The thought drove him mad. It also drove him to be sitting as an observer for “Research Literacy,” watching Donald Duck give a presentation.

“Good afternoon! Now, raise your hand if you’ve written an essay with sources mostly taken from Wikipedia’s citations…”

The workshop had him floored. He was drawn in by Donald’s simple, yet engaging language. Gyro knew how to research, he had made a living of it, after all, but Donald managed to keep his interest throughout the entire workshop with a unique analogy or a silly joke.

Plus, it was just as interactive as he’d like to make his classes. Donald had asked the students to form groups and put the concepts to practice by giving them a random topic that they had to find five sources for. They were presented hypothetical, believable problems of when the literature for a topic was lacking or when a potential source was inaccessible, and he had guided the students to their own original solutions. Gyro was merely an observer, but he wished he could have partaken in the class activities and discussions. He was confined to the back, but he imagined the responses he would give in the group discussions, and the personal experiences he could share.

What wealth of knowledge did that duck have? He knew now that this was an opportunity he had once made the mistake of rejecting. When the students chattering faded dispersed from the class and joined the hallway, he made his move. Donald was still unplugging his laptop from the socket.

Gyro bolted towards Donald with a wild urgency. “You!"

"Me!" Donald exclaimed, pointing at himself.

Why didn’t you tell me before?!” he gasped between pants.

Donald tilted his head ever so slightly. “Tell you what?”

Gyro frowned. Did he have to spell it out to him? “You are good at teaching! Tell me your ways!”

At that, Donald’s bubbly demeanor dropped into something more serious. “Look, Gyro… I’m not a teacher. And the kind of content you teach in your lectures is leagues beyond what I can help you with.”

“B-but– I..”

With a guarded attitude, Donald picked up his planner and leafed through a few pages. “I’m sure there’s a workshop I can find for you to help you with your problem,” he spoke with an unusual air of distant professionalism.

"No, can't you see? It has to be you," Gyro said desperately. “I… am sorry for ignoring your advice earlier.”

Donald was moved by that. "You're sure you want me?"

Gyro nodded fiercely.

"Well, okay. Fine. Let's meet during lunch?"

--------------------------

Amidst the cafeteria’s droning conversations composed of students and staff alike, Gyro and his coach sat in a high-seated table for two by the windows across the salad bar.

Donald was reading his lecture notes in silence. With nothing else to do, Gyro noticed how the dust particles floating in the air took up the appearance of sparkles in the sunlight. They drifted around Donald, whose feathers shone a golden trim around his silhouette. It was because of the waterproof oil, he knew, but the sight was serene.

Then, their gazes connected. Gyro inhaled sharply, and he thought he saw Donald’s eyes widen. In a blink, the lecture papers were returned to his possession.

“The first thing that stood out to me is the timing of these activities. I’m not sure they will be finished as quickly as you think.”

“But I need them. If I lengthened one, there wouldn’t be enough time for the others,” Gyro argued.

Donald crossed his arms. “Right, ok. Do you need to cover all this material?”

“Of course I do. I am not cutting anything out.”

He sighed. “Then, we still need to make modifications. Let’s go back to the basics. What do you want your students to accomplish by the end of the lecture? It’s really important to set a learning objective.”

“On that thought, I should have the students write down these learning objectives at the end of my presentation.” Gyro noted his idea down, then he addressed him. “I see your point. Instead of disparate activities on each individual concept, perhaps I can have them analyse an experiment through guided discussions. This allows them to see it in application and discover them independently.”

“It’s not a bad idea, actually. That’s an inductive learning approach.” Donald looked him up and down. “Now that I think about it, it really suits your style.”

--------------------------

The second time they met, they shared lunch in Gyro's office.

Gyro paced back and forth, hand on his forehead. “I've tried everything I thought of! Prepared notes, giving examples, slowing my pace… but they still think my lectures are confusing.”

Donald, who had been eating and watching him pace, set down his sandwich. “I watched your lecture recordings last night. Here's what I think. First, you are trying to define an inertial frame using concepts they don’t understand yet. They don’t need to know about how it relates to absolute space-time and the Theory of Relativity at this stage. This is an introductory level class.”

“Right… so you're saying I should simplify even more. But how?” He pulled out the chair and sat down.

“Let me try. This is on Newtonian mechanics?” Donald cleared his throat. “Newtonian mechanics applies Newton’s Laws of Motion to a system of objects. Raise your hand if you know of Newton’s Laws of Motion.”

Gyro reluctantly raised his hand after a long stare from Donald.

“Good! Now, does anybody remember the three laws?” He paused, then spoke in a more casual voice, “Then you go through them, one by one. Including the formulae.”

He mimed a screen projector by outlining a rectangle in the air and pointed at imaginary examples within it. Continuing the demonstration, his voice picked up in volume and authority once again. “Let’s look at the formulae. As long as no force is acting on it, what do you notice about the velocity?”

“And here, you use the formulae to show that velocity is absolute, just as the law of inertia states. The students should be able to work it out themselves without you telling them directly. Then, ta-da! This is called an inertial frame of reference.”

“After that, you define ‘frame of reference,’” Donald spoke in his normal voice. “You can use an example, such as… if you’re standing on a high-speed train, then from your frame of reference, you aren’t moving. But to someone on the ground, you are moving quite fast,” he said. “Something like that. My high school physics knowledge is failing me right now.”

Gyro stared at him in awe. “That was… simple. It's exactly what I need.”

Donald combed a hand through his head feathers, tickled pink by the praise. "It's about accommodating for your audience," he said, "Not everyone thinks the same way. Some people have a harder time understanding complex, abstract concepts, so they need a more concrete base to work from."

Gyro nodded, and scribbled his words into a notepad.

Donald pointed a finger at him. "You are the expert. It's your job to know how to simplify it for these beginners."

"I thought I was simplifying. But I never thought to do it this way." He looked at Donald. “I never had an interest in teaching, I suppose. Did you take it as a degree?”

"Well, I've never completed university myself."

That grabbed Gyro's attention. "You didn't? Then how do you know about teaching?"

Donald shifted in his seat. "Ah, well. It was one of the many odd jobs I took back then. Tutor, substitute teacher, that thing."

"And you just picked all of this up from experience?"

Donald shrugged. "Mostly. I studied a little bit, but that kind of stuff is not my strong suit."

Gyro looked at him with surprise. "Then, perhaps, we have more in common than I thought."

#donro #kimowrites #donald duck #yeah that's the all the tags this first draft wip is getting.

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moonlightviigil · 9 months ago

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ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜɴ

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?

(CANON MUSES) - I seem to favor male muses over female muses. Not saying that I won't have female muses; but it seems for canon muses specifically, I stick with the males more. I truly don't know why. Its possible that it could be a good way for me to explore my more masculine side of things? I've also noticed that I tend to lean way more to muses who are sadTM. Its something I heavily relate to, and can (hopefully) make seem believable. Its something I seem to enjoy so 🤷 (OCs) - I'm all over the board. Some evil, some good, some neutral. Male, female, other, etc. I usually try to find an archetype that interests me, and build around it. Mainly based around certain aesthetics. But then there are some that just come up to me with all of their info and just expect to exist rent free in my head.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?

I'm a very flexible person when it comes to writing topics. It doesn't matter to me as long as my partner is all good with it. Of course, some topics are off limits with obvious reasons that I shouldn't have to explain. But that doesn't mean I'm not willing to toe the line with more unsavory things. As long as everyone involved is okay with it, then it should be all good and fun! Though, there is one thing that I tend to stray away from. Mainly one-liners, and completely winged interactions. I have no clue why, but having no plan stresses me out, and one lines don't give me any content to work with (unless its just crack), and that also stresses me out for no reason. I overthink everything...

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?

Angst... its a problem lmfao

ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?

I usually base a lot of them off of my own life and how I'd handle some situations. With more mystical stuff, its all based around the character itself. And then sometimes a random thought just some to me like, yeah, that's Phel-coded.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?

I cannot stand silence one bit. I have to be listening to something no matter what I'm doing. When it comes to writing, there are very specific things I do listen to. Mainly like, ASMR type things. These cafe videos I enjoy a lot ( x ). Both for writing, and just to watch sometimes!

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?

I'll read my partners reply and stick it in my drafts to think about how I should respond. Like, of course I want to tryyyyy to stay in character as much as possible. But I know its not possible all the time, which is fine! I'm not super picky about that. But I do like to try to keep it in mind, that the canon muses are not mine, and I need to think about how they would respond. With my OCs for instance, they flow a little more naturally for me. Since they were in my head from day one, their personalities flow better. But that doesn't mean that canon muses don't flow well for me either. I wouldn't be writing canon muses if they didn't click for me to begin with. I'll try new canon muses... as you know, but if they don't click, they don't click and that's fine.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?

YES I'M A SLUT FOR SHIPS Of course, chemistry is key. I'll try to picture things in my head about certain muses together with mine so I can get the ball rolling if I'm not feeling it right away. But once I think about a certain pair more, I'm sure I won't be able to stop thinking about them. When it comes to random shipping, I struggle with that a bit. Especially for canon league muses. It heavily depends on their backstories and how they can mesh together for me. If there could be a genuine connection, even if its just through them traveling, if that makes sense? Like... I can't imagine Phel with someone from X place just because they'd be cute together. They have to mesh in some way or another for it to be a feasible match for me.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?

Online alias is Cherry. Another name is Riley. It isn't my legal name, but a preferred one. But being called Cherry or Riley online is fine by me!

ᴀɢᴇ?

I recently turned 28... I'm old

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?

Month late Christmas present (January 25th)

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?

Green and yellow 💚💛

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?

Uhhhhhhhhh there's a lot

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Spirited Away

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Rewatching Death Note........ But also started watching the live action Avatar series

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?

Eyes - Kaskade

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?

Orange chicken!!!!!!

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?

Fall. I am a fall girly. Its chilly, and not hot uwu

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?

I don't want to play favorites, so I'll say that anyone who talks to me pretty regularly is a bestie <3

Tagged by: @poisonflowrs <3 Tagging: whoever hasnt done this and is reading this :3c

#🌙dash games #eeeeeeeeeeeeeee #long post

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petrichor-reminiscence · 2 months ago

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Hello!

you may call me Rem :) it's a pleasure to meet you!

I do the writesy-write, so if you do the readsy-read then consider checking out my work :D

I write things based on my various interests, which will obviously change with time

♡♡♡

here's a list of my boundaries and rules:

☆ I usually write for she/her or fem aligned readers, that's just what I know and what I relate to. if you'd like to request any other gender, please do! but as a general rule, most of my work will be with a fem aligned reader in mind.

☆ I do not write stories intended for children or minors! that's not my target audience. I cannot control where my posts end up, but know that my work is not intended to be child-friendly.

☆ if you're a minor, please keep interactions with my writing to a minimum! I cannot physically stop you, of course, but I am an adult and it's not safe for anyone because none of us know each other. just stay on your side of the fence, and I'll stay on mine.

☆ try to keep requests civil! you're welcome to request whatever you wish, but I have the right to refuse a request for any reason - but don't worry, I won't be unfair.

☆ this is a judgement-free hate-free zone, and I will be trying my damndest to keep it that way! if I stray from my intentions, if I say something hateful or out of line, please feel free to call me out on that! we're all learning, and it's easier to do it together <3

☆ if you don't like or agree with anything I say/post, you're welcome to talk to me about it; send me a message or ask or whatever you'd like, I'm open to new vantage points and opinions! but at the end of the day if I'm just passing you off, feel free to block me.

☆ be specific with requests! I dont care if your ask is 1000 words long or something, if you have a lot of ideas and want me to do something with em then send it all my way! the more details the better! you're also welcome to be as vague as you want, but details are always welcome.

♡♡♡

now, a list of what I will/won't write:

WILL:

☆ curse words, obviously

☆ NSFW or explicit content, whether that be graphic violence or sexual content, and everything will come with trigger warnings of course

☆ heavy topics, of course with trigger warnings. I don't want to avoid the dark stuff, it's a part of life, and some people enjoy reading about situations they relate to when they're going through a tough time

WONT:

☆ slurs that I have no right to reclaim

☆ pedophilia or uncomfortable age-gaps

☆ non-con. I'm fine with some dub-con, but I'm not comfy with writing straight-up assault like that

☆ piss/shit kinks or anything that's kinda gross like that. not kinkshaming though! all power to you kinky bastards. it's just not my cup of tea and is out of my comfort zone

☆ hurt no comfort or straight up agnst. I've suffered enough and I'm a sucker for happy endings. I love angst, don't get me wrong, but there will always be a happy ending with my work

♡♡♡

I'm friendly as far as I'm aware, so don't be afraid, I won't bite ya! I look forward to seeing you around here :)

#rem's rules #introduction post #intro #this is the second one ive made #but its more up to date and reworked n such

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icharchivist · 9 months ago

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For as much as I really enjoy your take that Seofon sees being in the Eternals as the only thing he's allowed to be and likening him to a dog on the leash of his own incredible power yearning for freedom, couldn't the opposite also be true?

The more experiences he made with the other Eternals and the Captain especially strengthened his conviction to not stray from his path and keep protecting the world. So it's more like he put the leash on himself specifically so everyone else doesn't have to bear that burden and can keep enjoying their lives

At the end of the day it's fully up to interpretation, but it's fun to wonder

I actually would agree yes!

my "dog on a leash" metaphor was more about the specific situation of tasting experiences he will never be able to commit to in a sense.

and if i continue with the metaphor, it doesn't mean the dog wants to get out of that leash, the dog still love its owner (the goal Seofon has in mind) and still can go anyway his owner will take him (he can taste different experience but he has to remember not to stray from his goal).

And that "leash" i'm alluding to is something he himself decided for himself (like how dogs are wolves who willingly allowed themselves to be domesticated). In fact i'm sureif we continue on that metaphor, Seofon would be this type of dog who wouldn't let their owner drop the leash because this is something he chooses for him anytime.

a dog on a leash isn't miserable, he's content with his life. And if their owner take them out regularly it's also likely the dog will like his owner even more knowing that they're not locked in a cage either.

And besides, if the dog usually stay close to his owner, he won't feel the pull on the leash at all, so if his owner brings him in a place that would be a neat experience, if the dog can still run around without pulling the leash (either because his owner runs with him or because he leash is just that long) this pull won't be felt even though he's far from home and he can enjoy his run.

As long as you see the thing holding on the leash as a being who can move too (like a person, like a goal, which will allow him to be more flexible) and not like, a dog house (in which case it would be limiting), i think the imagery can still be applicable.

Being "pulled by a leash" doesn't mean that he would be yearning for Freedom, i'd say. I think it just means that he can wander wherever he wants as long as his leash allows him to, and he won't even feel the leash, but once he strays slightly too far away he will feel the pull of the leash. It can be disappointing as it happens, but ultimately, it doesn't mean he wants to be out of his leash.

So this imagery can be used still on that regard too.

but ultimately i was using this imagery originally just on specifically the feeling of being able to roam free until suddenly you can feel the pull holding you back, originally (despite all my elaboration just now) i was just thinking of the feeling of being pulled back without meaning to say "this is the only way Seofon knows how to live" yaknow?

But yeah, Seofon still is able to experience new things, he's still able to go around and get a taste at a lot of things, and seeing those things is what strengthen his resolve about why he cannot stray from his goal.

and i think Seofon is happy with this goal. I genuinely think that he's happy to be with the Eternals, he's happy to be able to use his power for good, he's content. But sometimes i do think he can get this pull of knowing that there's nothing else he can do anyway. He can still happily walk that path and know that it's not like he can leave this path either.

In the end it's all of his own making and he's happy with that, but he still holds himself back to one goal itself.

and if we keep going with the metaphor, this makes Sieten't a wolf through and through. More powerful, with sharp teeth, free to move as he sees fit, being able to put his own whims over any duty, like fighting the dragons just to have some fun. He has nothing holding him back.

but there's this story i read once, of a wild wolf meeting a guard dog, and snarling at the dog having a leash, and how could he stand such treatment? but the guard dog is content. Sure, his movements are limited, but his owner still have him walk around, feeds him every single day, gives him a roof over his head when it rains, and loves him deeply. The wolf is only out for himself, has nothing to come back to, no one to take care of him on a bad day, no one to make sure he has affections on the daily to survive. Food isn't guaranteed everyday for the wolf. And the dog just need to content with his leash, that he doesn't even feel most of the time because the benefits from his owner's love means he doesn't even /want/ to stray this far away from home to feel the pull of the leash to start with. The wolf is free to roam, is more powerful. But is it worth it?

Obviously there's different way to explore it, and i think that since it's not like Seofon is regularly in a situation of "pulling that leash" it's not like the metaphor is fitting to use all the time around his character.

but at least that would be my run down of it, if it makes sense?

#ichareply #anonymous #ichafantalks gbf

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hansols-yoda-boxers · 3 years ago

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Camp North Star - August 15th

AFAB!Reader x Hirai Momo x Minatozaki Sana x Park Jihyo

Word Count: 7166

Contents: foursome, truth or dare, fingering, dom!Momo, dom!Jihyo, sub!reader, implied switch!Sana, teasing, hair pulling, use of titles (Mommy, Mistress), use of pet names (baby), breast play, clit stimulation, tribbing, choking, slight scratching, oral (reader receiving), praise, over-stimulation, crying

You dried off your body as you sat up on the deck of the pool in the dark. Momo, Sana, and Jihyo were all climbing out from the evening swim you’d taken. You looked at your watch, knowing that Momo and Sana couldn’t stay out too late, not when Nayeon had so graciously agreed to watch their campers, but only for a bit.

Jihyo threw you each a boogie board to sit on instead of the hard concrete and you relaxed back in the warm August night. A breeze was blowing through but it only carried more hot air, though it felt perfect for drying off.

“That was fun,” Sana chimed. “We should do that more often.”

“We can only get Nayeon to babysit so many times,” Momo chuckled.

“I can only do this sparingly,” Jihyo said. “I mean I don’t think Hongseok would be that mad, but if Seungcheol caught us…”

“I don’t know,” you hummed, laying your towel over the boogie board and sitting on it. “Hongseok is getting to be a bit more of a stick in the mud in his old age.”

“You say that like you didn’t fuck him in his office,” Jihyo laughed.

“Shut up,” you giggled, throwing a stray boogie board at her which she managed to catch anyway.

“Didn’t you say something about the showers after?” Jihyo questioned.

“We didn’t do anything in the showers,” you said, sticking your tongue out at her.

“Yeah,” said Sana. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck them in the showers.” Everyone laughed at her comment.

“That explains why you came back with wet hair the other day.” Momo said.

“At least tonight we have towels,” you chuckled.

“I might have forgotten the towels,” Sana confessed with a sheepish grin, blushing while Jihyo and Momo burst into laughter.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute, Sana,” Momo giggled.

“It’s a good thing Minji was willing to bring us towels,” you chuckled.

“Well luckily everyone can dry off comfortably now,” Jihyo said. “How much later do you guys wanna stay?”

“We still have time,” Momo said. “Nayeon said she would stay until just before lights out, she’s checking the cabins tonight anyway so as long as we’re back by 10 we’re fine.”

“We could play a game,” You offered.

“Ohhhh we could play truth or dare,” Sana said excitedly.

“That ought to be interesting,” Momo chuckled.

“Why not?” you laughed. You could already tell Sana was plotting ideas. She was bound to make it sexual right out of the gate but you didn’t mind all that much. It would at least be fun. You were feeling slightly better now. Things were still far from normal between you and Wonwoo but at the very least you could hold a casual conversation again without it feeling massively awkward or like pulling teeth to get an answer. So that was something.

“So long as it doesn’t get too out of hand,” Jihyo said, chewing on her lip.

“See now you sound like Seungcheol,” Momo teased.

“I do not,” she whined. “I’m fun!”

“Fine, then truth or dare?” Momo asked.

“Truth.”

“Figures.”

Jihyo grabbed a nearby pool noodle to whack Momo. “Just ask me a question.”

“Is it true you guys have orgies in Cabin Hydrus?”

Even in the moonlight you could see Jihyo blush deeply. “I-I wouldn’t call them orgies.”

You and Sana squealed while Momo laughed.

“If you’re all having sex than it’s an orgy,” Momo said.

“Hold on, why was I not invited?” You asked.

“You’re not in the cabin,” Jihyo said.

“Yeah but we’re in the same department,” you whined.

“Okay but you’re in a boat usually,” Sana said. “They like to get wet.”

“Okay okay,” Jihyo said, trying to hush you all a bit. “Momo, truth or dare?”

“Dare because I’m not afraid.”

“Whisper a secret to me.”

“Oh my god, you are getting boring,” Momo said, crawling over to her. You couldn’t hear what she said but you saw the look of surprise that crossed Jihyo’s face as she heard the secret.

“Wait really?” Jihyo asked. Momo nodded with a slight grin.

“What was it?” Sana pouted.

“Sorry, can’t tell you,” Momo giggled. “She should have told me to tell the whole group.” Momo looked at you. “Truth or dare?”

“I’ll go with dare.”

“Take your top off.”

You felt heat rush to your skin as the others giggled. “Hold on, you just had to whisper a secret and I have to take my tits out?”

“You really should be prepared for anything,” She shrugged. “You can switch the truth, but only once.”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” you muttered, pulling down the straps on your bathing suit top. You didn’t look any of them in the eye as you took your arms out of the straps and pushed it down just enough to rest under your breasts, thankful for the warm night so the air didn’t chill you.

You would have thought by this point in the summer this wouldn’t feel so embarrassing and yet…

“Okay, Sana,” you said, very aware of how she was now staring at your chest. “Truth or dare?”

“Hmmmmm truth,” She said.

“Ummm,” you wracked your brain for a good question. “How many times have you faked an orgasm?”

“I never fake an orgasm!” she said. “I want them to know if they do a bad job.”

Momo nudged her hard and gave her a pointed look.

“Okay, well I don’t anymore.”

You and Jihyo snorted.

“Some people just cannot figure out how to get me off, not like it’s that hard,” she muttered. “Anyway, Jihyo, truth or dare?”

“I don’t trust you at all,” Jihyo said.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Sana grinned. “And you said truth last time.”

“Fine, dare.”

“Perfect,” she smiled brightly. “I dare you to do a pole dance with an imaginary pole.”

Jihyo flushed red, visible even in the darkness, as she stood up. You tried for a moment to forget about how bare you were as you watched her in all of her embarrassment, trying to be sexy while Sana hummed music and Momo giggled. She was quick to sit back down, letting her hair partially fall in her face.

Jihyo said your name. “Truth or dare?”

“I’m going for truth this time,” you said.

“What’s your body count for this summer?”

“Oh geez,” you said, looking up at the sky. “Give me a second.” The girls all giggled as you counted out on your fingers, trying to remember everyone. “Wait is it just sex or anyone I’ve fooled around with?”

“Include anyone you fooled around with,” Said Sana.

“Then, god I think it’s 18?” You said, hoping you weren’t forgetting anyone. “That kinda blows Soonyoung out of the water.”

“Congrats,” snickered Momo. “You’re the resident whore.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, grabbing a wayward pool noodle and whacking her with it as she giggled.

“Your turn, truth or dare?”

“Hmmm dare,” she said.

You grinned. “I dare you to play with your nipples for the rest of the game.”

Sana giggled while Jihyo looked between you two, a little panicked. “See when I said not to get out of hand-”

“You say that like it’s hard,” Momo chuckled, pinching her nipples through her swimsuit top and rolling them slowly, clearly more than happy to be giving herself pleasure. “Sana, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she said easily.

“Show us a fake orgasm.”

“You guys!” Jihyo hissed.

Sana blushed, biting down on her finger coyly. “You really wanna see it?”

“Oh shut up and do it,” you laughed, nudging her knee with your foot. Jihyo was looking over her shoulder towards the camp building, clearly worried someone would notice your increasingly risque game.

Sana, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care. She rested back on her elbows before letting out a moan, legs rubbing together and squirming as if she was actually experiencing pleasure. You watched as her mouth fell open, brows knitting together and eyes falling closed as her back arched and she let out very convincing moans that climbed higher and higher in her voice.

You couldn’t help the way it sent thrills of arousal through your body. You shifted a little, pressing your thighs together as you watched and listened to her. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Momo pinching her own nipples a little harder and Jihyo biting down on her bottom lip.

Sana drew her knees up close to her, head falling back in a beautiful, high cry as she “finished,” even managing to have her legs shaking a little and letting out heavy breaths as she opened her eyes. Whether she still did it or not in bed, she was very good at it.

“O-Okay,” Said Jihyo. “Maybe not so loud,” she glanced over her shoulder again, trying to shift her thighs inconspicuously. “B-But let’s keep playing.”

“Okay,” purred Sana. “Truth or dare?” Her voice was much more sultry and it was doing you no favours. By the looks of it you weren’t alone in that.

“Uh, dare?” Jihyo said.

Sana grinned, “I dare you to give me a hickey.” Jihyo seemed surprised at the relatively tame request but Momo was eyeing Sana.

“You are such a whore,” she snickered.

“I’ve done nothing,” Sana said innocently, batting her eyelashes as Jihyo crawled towards her. She rested back as Jihyo kissed low on her chest, pushing down the top of her swimsuit before sucking the skin between her lips.

Sana let her head fall back, letting out a moan, you hugged your knees to your chest, shifting again as more heat started to pool between your legs. She was putting on a show now, and you were sure the whole goal was to rile all of you up. It was working too. Somewhere in the back of your mind you questioned how you had become friends with so many people that liked to initiate orgies.

Jihyo pulled back, a fresh, dark bruise blossoming on Sana’s chest. Sana smiled at her cutely.

“Thank you, Mommy.”

You bit down on your lip as you watched Jihyo taking a deep breath, looking like she could just about devour Sana but restraining herself instead and sitting back on her heels.

“Momo,” Jihyo sniffed, regaining her composure. “Truth or dare?”

“I haven’t picked truth yet,” her voice still sounded even but the way she subtly squirmed her body told you she was very much turned on.

Jihyo sighed, thinking for a moment. “Tell us about one of your favourite porn tropes.”

“See that’s a good question,” she smirked. “I really love the ones where a group of girls all gang up on one girl. Sometimes they’re cheerleaders, maybe lifeguards. The all hold down the one girl and make her cum until she can’t think of anything else and it’s the best fuck she’s ever had.”

Whether she was trying to toy with Sana or Jihyo you didn’t know but you did know that it was getting to you. Without warning your brain started swimming in images of the three of them surrounding you, all pleasuring you at once. Your fingers curled into the hem of your swimsuit as more asorual rushed through your body at the sudden but not unwelcome mental images.

What you absolutely could have done without though, was the whimper that escaped your lips.

You quickly looked around at all three of them, feeling heat licking at your skin and suddenly wishing for a cool breeze. None of them said a word about your outburst, but the looks on their faces made it clear they had all heard you.

“Sana,” Momo said. “Truth or dare?”

“Hmm, truth,” she said.

Momo nodded towards you with a smug look on her face. “If you could do anything to them right now, what would you do?”

“H-Hey!” You cried, curling in on yourself. Momo was definitely just trying to mess with you now. Jihyo, however, just bit her lip, invested in whatever Sana was going to say.

“I just want to eat them out,” she smirked, though her voice was sweet. “I only got such a little taste last time. I just want to push them back and hold their legs open and taste them. I want them dripping on my tongue. I want to know just how wet they’ve been getting watching everything.”

You knew that Sana knew she was making it worse. You did your best to hold still but something about having others around emboldened her. She was far less sweet and far more teasing. You could feel the others with their eyes on you even though your gaze was locked with Sana’s.

Heat licked at your skin as it curled down your spin. You knew you were wet at this point, though your body had long dried from the pool. But the more they talked the more your need grew, even if you were determined to hide just how much everything was affecting you.

“Does that sound good to you?” Sana asked sweetly.

“It sounds fine.” Your voice was so breathy and obviously turned on it wasn’t even funny. Sana looked so very proud of herself as Momo and Jihyo regarded you with the gazes of lionesses just waiting to pounce on their prey.

“Truth or dare?” Sana asked sweetly.

There was no good option at this point.

“Dare?”

A smirk curled Sana’s lips. “I dare you to finger yourself.”

It was a mark of how much the mood had shifted that nobody giggled. Jihyo looked mildly surprised, though more interested in if you would actually do it. Momo was unphased, only expectant.

You felt your skin burning as you looked down.

“C-Come on,” you mumbled. “You already made me half strip.”

“Well if you’re going to forfeit,” Sana said.

“That’d be no fun,” Momo added. “Sana even showed us a fake orgasm.”

“You made Momo play with her nipples,” Sana said.

“Okay,” you said. You spread your legs just the smallest bit, hyper aware of the way they were watching you. You bit down on your lip as you pushed your hand into your swimsuit bottoms. One hand came up to hold your breast, if for no other reason than to cover you a little bit. You slipped your hand down until your fingers found your clit, biting back the moan that threatened to leave your lips at the touch. Of course you were already wet and sensitive, of course it was going to be harder to keep yourself quiet now.

“Wh-Who wants to be-”

“Hold on,” Jihyo stopped you from moving the game along. Apparently she wanted in on the fun now too. “Are you fingering yourself or just touching yourself?”

“I-I”

“Oh naughty,” Sana chided. “The dare was to finger yourself.”

“I know that,” you mumbled. They were all shifting a little closer now, watching you intently. You couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement from all the attention. Some part of you wanting even more and your mind refusing to stop playing images of them taking you all at once. Your own finger slid lower. You were still covering yourself shyly as much as you could as you pressed the finger into your heat.

No amount of lip biting or self control could stop the moan that left your lips. Each of them pressed even closer to you as you stopped moving your finger, face burning and butterflies in your stomach. Jihyo reached out to touch you, rubbing your thigh soothingly.

“Sh-Should we move on?” You asked quietly, already knowing the game was long gone from everyone’s minds.

“You’ve barely shown us anything,” Momo said. “You need to properly finger yourself.”

“You need to let us see,” Sana smirked, settling right next to you, her hand landing on your knee. Your body tensed a little but Jihyo hushed you and as you relaxed the two of them pulled your legs apart to see you properly as you slowly curled your finger inside yourself, only doing so halfheartedly and trying to make sense of your overwhelming feelings. You were embarrassed beyond belief but you also couldn’t deny that the ways they were looking at you, the light touches of Sana’s and Jihyo’s fingers, the attention, was turning you on even more. It had you clenching around your finger.

It was no secret to yourself that you wanted this to continue.

“Looks like one part of your suit didn’t quite dry,” Momo murmured. Her fingers reached out to trace the edge of your swimsuit at the apex of your thigh. You took in a sharp breath at the feeling, some part of your brain wondering if you should outright ask them for more.

“I-I It’s still wet,” you mumbled.

“Are you sure it’s still wet?” Jihyo purred, leaning in a little closer to your ear. “Are you sure it’s not freshly wet?”

“It’s- I mean-”

“It’s not very nice to lie to us,” Momo added, sounding more stern than Jihyo had.

“I think we’ll need to see for ourselves.” Sana added.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t know what she was getting at, or where this seemed to be headed. Still, you looked at Sana with wide eyes at her suggestion as Momo hooked her fingers into the waist of your swimsuit bottoms. Sana simply gave you a smirk and Momo looked up at you expectantly. You looked over at Jihyo and she brought her hand up to caress your cheek.

“Can you show us?” She asked softly, really looking to see if you wanted to continue. You nodded slowly for her and she grinned.

Momo pulled off the bottoms of your swimsuit and you let your hand fall away, pulling your finger away from your core. Jihyo shifted partially behind you, pulling off the top of your swimsuit and leaving you bare as they spread your legs again. Each of them let out a moan or whine at the sight of your body and your glistening core. You only took a quick peek at your own pussy before looking away, unable to shake the shyness nor the embarrassment and very aware that they only made you hornier.

“You look so pretty,” Sana moaned, fingers dragging through your folds and sparking pleasure inside you. Jihyo sat behind you, leaning you back against her as Momo ran her fingers over your thighs.

“Fuck, and you got me all turned on, too,” you said, breathiness finally showing in her voice.

“You two could put on a nice little show for them,” Jihyo murmured. “I think I need to help them with their fingering technique.”

Momo was almost rough as she grabbed Sana’s hair, earning a moan from Sana as she pulled her closer. You watched Momo strip off her swimsuit in the moonlight, throwing it aside. Your eyes couldn’t help but rove over her form, the way her hair cascaded down her back, the swell of her breasts, down to her waist and the curve of her hips as she seated herself, spreading her legs and pulling Sana closer.

Sana kissed her feverishly, wasting no time in sinking two fingers into Momo’s awaiting core. Momo let out a moan, knee falling to the side so you could see just what Sana was doing as she started to finger her.

“They look good, don’t they,'' Jihyo hummed, her hand wrapped around you and her fingers found your clit, teasing you lazily.

“Th-They do,” you whimpered, squirming in her grasp. You were already very turned on and the pressure she put on your small bundle of nerves was easily making you wetter and needier. Your whole body felt hot as you melted back into her, desiring nothing more than more of her touch.

Jihyo brought a hand up to your chest.

“You and Sana are turning out to be a lot of fun,” she purred. “Momo is certainly enjoying her.”

Momo let out a moan, her fingers tangled firmly in Sana’s hair as her head fell back. She pushed Sana’s head down roughly and Sana took one of Momo’s nipples into her mouth, sucking on it. Her fingers curled into Momo quickly and you could imagine, could remember how good it felt.

“And you're just too cute,” Jihyo teased. You let out a whimper as she tugged on your nipple, fingers pressing a little harder against your clit and circling just a little faster. Not fully giving you what you craved.

“You are so adorable when you get shy,” She said, making you look away from her. “Even now when I’ve got your legs open. You’re all spread out to the world and you’re still being shy for me. It’s just precious.”

Her words were only turning you on more as you squirmed, trying to rock you hips against her hand for more. The sight in front of you was incredibly arousing, and the way Jihyo moved her fingers had tension building in your body already. Even still, your core was very aware of what it was missing and you found your hands curling into the towel under you as you wondered if Jihyo would try and tell you off for fingering yourself.

“You’ve got such cute tits,” she hummed, tugging on your nipple again. “Does it feel good when I get a little rough with you?”

“Mhm,” you hummed.

“Come on,” she said, squeezing your breast roughly. “You know I have a title.”

“Y-Yes Mommy,” the words dripped from your lips just the way arousal dripped from your cunt. The word managed to turn you on even more, something about the feeling of it leaving your lips was making your head spin. You were starting to feel desperate, squirming more in her grasp as the tension in your body built slowly, but not as fast as you wanted it.

“Very good,” Jihyo hummed. “You should look at your cute little pussy, baby.”

You whined at the pet name, somehow even in this state your brain still had the capacity for shame, though you were sure it wouldn’t take too long before that was gone too. Still, you looked down at your pussy just as she said. Even the moonlight you could see how much her touch was affecting you, already a little swollen from her teasing.

It just made you want to cum even more. Momo’s moans and curses weren’t letting up and Sana was letting out moans of her own, particularly each time Momo pulled her hair. Her ass and thighs kept shifting and rolling as they searched for some kind of friction while she fucked Momo with her fingers.

Their sounds were filling your mind and making you clench around the utter nothing in your cunt. Even though you could get to your high eventually, it was clear Momo was getting closer to hers and you were still frustratingly far from your own, wanting Jihyo to go a little harder, a little faster, instead of taking her time.

You reached a hand between her legs. There was no way she wouldn’t notice, but maybe-

Jihyo grabbed your wrist sharply, pulling your hand away.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She asked.

“I w-want to cum,” you mumbled pitifully.

“So I’m not doing a good job?” She questioned.

“N-No you-”

“You have to do it yourself? I’m not treating you well?”

“N-No th-that’s not- I-I just wanted-” You were shrinking into her, complete putty in her hands now. She was making you feel good, just not fast enough. “I-I want to cum now.”

“I see,” she said. For a moment you were afraid she would pull away and you thought it might just make you cry if she didn’t give you any more attention. But her hand came back to your clit, rubbing much more roughly as her other hand moved to play with your other nipple roughly.

“I’m so nice to you, baby,” she said. “I’ll make you cum. I’ll make sure we keep you cumming until I think you’ve had enough. Does that sound good?”

“Y-Yes Mommy,” you moaned, back arching as tension started through your body, winding you tight. Jihyo’s fingers teased your nipple roughly and her hand didn’t let up on your clit.

“You’re going to cum for me just like this,” she said. “I’m not putting anything inside of you. Your greedy little pussy will just have to wait.”

“Mhm,” your whine was high in your voice as your hips ground and rolled up against her fingers. Your eyes squeezed shut but you could hear Momo moaning out as she came on Sana’s fingers.

“And you’ll be grateful for every orgasm we give you, tonight,” Jihyo said, warning in her tone.

“Yes Mommy,” you breathed, feeling your whole body pulling tight, every muscle tensed as she brought you right to your edge.

“Then cum for me, baby.”

You cried out as you came, legs trembling but you managed to hold them open. You hips ground in circles as she kept teasing your clit and tugging roughly on your nipples while pleasure washed over you, enveloping your senses.

“Th-Thank you, Mommy,” you already knew you had made a mistake tonight and you didn’t want to make more. Her fingers kept teasing you, though much slower. It was still enough to have you jolting and squirming and whimpering in her grasp as she looked up at Momo and Sana.

“Momo,” she called.

You opened your eyes, seeing Momo smirking at you. “Yes?”

“I’d love some time to play with Sana,” Jihyo said. “But they’re just so desperate to keep cumming.” She squeezed your thighs. “They nearly started touching themselves. Do you think you can come over here and help them?”

“Of course,” Momo grinned, releasing Sana’s hair. Jihyo moved away and you managed to sit up as Momo came over and took her place. She was gentle as she rested her legs on either side of you but you knew it wouldn’t last long with how she was with Sana. You bit down on your lip, holding in your whimpers as she dragged her nails over your skin while you watched Jihyo pull off her swimsuit, instructing Sana to do the same. Sana scrambled to follow her lead as you felt Momo’s fingers trail towards your core.

Jihyo gently sat Sana back and spread her legs. You bit down on your lip as you watched Jihyo lower herself onto Sana, starting to grind her pussy against Sana’s and holding onto her leg for support. Sana let out a cute, whiny moan, while Jihyo let out a low groan, leaning forwards to stick a finger in Sana’s mouth and murmuring something to her that you couldn’t hear.

You gasped as you felt Momo spreading your lower lips with one hand and finding you clit with the other. She looked down over your shoulder as she tapped her fingers against your clit quickly. Even though it wasn’t too rough you were already sensitive and the sensation made you squirm and whimper and grip her thighs for support.

“Oh, so sensitive,” Momo teased, rubbing your clit before tapping it again. “It was naughty of you to try and play with yourself.”

“I-I know,” you whimpered.

“Now you better be good for us, can you do that? Can you be good for Mommy and Mistress?”

“Y-Yes Mistress,” you gasped taking her cue. Your legs threatened to close but Momo wasn’t having it.

“Keep them open,” she growled. “I want to see how swollen your pretty little cunt gets when I make you cum.”

“Y-Yes M-Mistress,” You managed, your voice only getting whinier.

“Maybe I should make you cum just like this? What would you say?” She was toying with you, you knew it. But you also knew better than to be a brat at the moment.

“Th-Th- I would- I’d say thank y-you, M-Mistress,” you whimpered, your hips trying to pull away from the quick taps against your sensitive clit. Each one sending an intense jolt of pleasure through your body. But you could only back up into Momo. You had to take it, even though it was already intense and you were only just starting to build to your second orgasm.

“Good job, baby,” she hummed. “Is that what you want?”

You squirmed and whined. Was it a trick or could you actually tell her that your pussy was so frustratingly empty. That you needed something in it.

“You can tell me the truth,” she murmured.

“I-I want s-something inside me,” you moaned, letting out a squeal as her taps got a little bit rougher.

“I can do that for you, baby,” she purred. Finally her fingers relented, one hand slipping down to your core and easily pressing two fingers into you. You moaned out embarrassingly loudly as she curled his fingers into you. After so much waiting the feeling of being full of something was so welcome. Momo’s other hand came up your body and you gasped as she wrapped it around your throat.

“Why don’t you watch the show while I fuck you,” Momo said, squeezing your throat lightly as you brought your eyes up to look at Sana and Jihyo.

Sana’s head had fallen back and her chest was heaving as she gripped Jihyo’s hips. She looked as if she was just on her edge. Though her fake moans had been good, they were nothing compared to the whines and cries falling off her lips now.

Jihyo was grinding down on her hard, moans cascading off her own lips between cooing at Sana and the look of pleasure on her face. She had Sana’s leg up in the air, holding onto it for support while the other rested on Sana’s waist as she chased her high.

You moaned, clenching around Momo’s fingers as they started to fuck into you fast. There was no gentleness to it, moving quickly and nipping at your ear playfully when you let out a broken moan.

“Is this what you wanted?” She teased.

“F-Fuck,” your eyelids were heavy as your body started to tense again. Your legs were already shaking and you were clenching around her fingers as she brought you towards your second orgasm. Momo’s hand squeezed around your throat and your eyes flew open.

“What was that?” She growled.

“Y-Yes Mistress. Thank you M-Mistress,” you whined quickly, trying to save face.

“You just can’t quite behave today, can you?” Momo said. Her hand dropped from your neck as Sana started to cum, crying out and shaking underneath Jihyo who was still grinding on her hard.

Momo’s fingers were relentless, fucking into your fast and rough and making your own legs shake. She brought her other hand down to your clit and you cried out as she started to rub it roughly, only able to press back into her as the intense feeling coursed through your body and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Poor baby, are you too sensitive for this? Did I make your poor little cunt too sensitive?” She cooed.

You nodded, unable to give her proper words in response. But you just heard Momo chuckle as you squirmed and wriggled in her grasp.

“That’s too bad, I’m not done with you yet.”

Curses and moans fell off your lips at the nearly overwhelming feeling as she played with your clit just as roughly as her fingers fucked you. Your body tensed as you got close to your edge again. You could hear Jihyo’s moans as she came, which only made you clench around Momo’s fingers more. She nipped at your neck.

“Come on, baby.” She murmured. “Cum again, cum for me.”

You cried out, unable to keep your legs open as your body released. Pleasure coursed through you and you shook from the force of your orgasm, grasping at the towel beneath you and squeezing your eyes shut as Momo brought you through your orgasm.

You were tired and twitching when she finally let up. She was gentle as she pushed your legs open again, only to start tapping her fingers against your clit again.

You couldn’t tell if it was harder than before but it didn’t matter. You were so sensitive that the feeling was verging on painful, but not quite. Even if it was a lot, it still felt good.

“Th-Th- Thank you M-M-Mistress,” you managed as Sana and Jihyo came closer.

“I hope you know I’m not done with you yet,” Momo murmured as she let you lay back on the towel. Sana and Jihyo came to sit on either side of you and you gently reached out to touch them both, finding a spot on each of their thighs as you looked up at Jihyo.

“Can you handle some more, baby?” Jihyo asked.

You nodded, your brain struggling to form words. The nod seemed good enough for her though as she threw some sort of glance at Momo. You felt her push your legs back, opening them wide as you laid on your back and you whimpered, already knowing what was coming.

“Shhh,” Jihyo hushed you as she took your hand, rubbing soothing circles into the back of it. “You’re doing so well.”

“And you look so pretty,” Sana added, lying down with you to kiss at your neck. “I still wanna taste you,” she hummed against your skin.

Your mind spun at the idea. You weren’t sure you could handle that much more, but for as overwhelming as it felt, it was also so good. You hadn’t felt this good in a while and you knew when they were done with you you would feel so utterly satisfied.

Sana kissed down to take one of your nipples into her mouth as Momo pressed three fingers into you and drew her tongue over your over-sensitive clit.

Your body jolted and tried to buck up against her as you cried out from the intensity. Momo held you down as she started fingering you quickly again, her tongue lapping over your clit and sending shockwaves through your body each time she did.

Jihyo leaned down over you. “You poor thing, I bet you’re so sensitive now.”

“Y-Yes M-Mommy,” you gasped, gazing up at her. You moaned, back arching off the ground as she took your unattended nipple between her fingers and started rolling it.

“I know, baby,” she cooed. “But you are just so much fun to play with. You sound so cute.”

“You’re so soft,” Sana murmured against you before sucking on your nipple again.

Jihyo threaded her free hand into your hair gently, tilting your head to look at her.

“If it’s too much, just tell me,” her voice was a little more serious. You knew she was checking again, making sure they weren’t pushing you too far. Despite how overwhelming the touch was starting to feel each oragsm that they brought you was better. And your sensitive body was so much faster now, already you could feel the tightening in your core, your body getting tense as your third orgasm approached.

“I-I like it, M-Mommy,” you moaned.

Jihyo smirked down at you, tugging your nipple a little more roughly. “Perfect, baby.”

You panted and moaned and took in the sounds they made. Sana’s were quiet, small sighs and whimpers against your skin, punctuated by words.

“You’re so pretty,” she hummed. “I want to taste you so bad. Everything about you is so divine.”

Her praise only had you clenching around Momo’s fingers more as they fucked into you. Momo let out moans against your core, if only to send the vibrations careening through your nearly fucked out body. She seemed to like it when you squirmed or bucked your hips, holding you still with more force.

The lewd, wet sounds of her fingers fucking you and her tongue lapping at your clit was only adding to everything you were feeling. Your fingers curled around the towel, your other hand grabbing at Sana and holding her close as your body trembled and you managed to look up at Jihyo.

“Are you going to cum for us again, baby?” She grinned.

You could only manage to nod at her, no words forming in your head. Jihyo still played with your hair sweetly.

“Good, cum for us baby.”

You let out a broken cry as you came on Momo’s fingers again. Your cunt squeezed around them tightly as she sucked at your clit. Your eyes rolled back and your back tried to arch up, stopped only by Sana pressing you down as she kept sucking at your nipple. Jihyo played with your other nipple teasing it as you rode through your orgasm until you were twitching and gasping, eyes unable to open.

Momo pulled away from you gently and you laid there, panting as Sana moved away too. Very gently, Jihyo lifted you up a little, laying you back on her but not fully sitting you up, lounging back. You felt Sana pushing your legs up and you whimpered, head lolling to one side. You knew she wanted to taste you but you didn’t know if you could take another orgasm.

Jihyo pressed a kiss under your ear as she and Momo pulled your thighs back until they were nearly flush with your chest.

“All you have to say is stop,” she whispered to you. You felt Sana pressing kisses near your core and Momo trailing her fingers over your legs and hips, but they all gave you a moment to think. You managed to open your eyes, gazing down at Sana’s sweet, hopeful expression and feeling arousal course through you.

How were you still needy? You didn’t know. But you did love the attention they were showering you in. It was so nice, felt so good. You bit your lip, taking in the sight of how swollen your pussy was from so much stimulation.

“Just a little more,” you mumbled.

Momo pressed close to you, lips brushing against yours and pressing your thigh more firmly against you as Sana pressed her face closer, her tongue dipping into your dripping core.

“I thought so,” She murmured. “You’re still needy, aren’t you?”

Jihyo chuckled. “Poor baby can’t get enough of us.”

You whimpered and moaned at the feeling of Sana’s tongue starting to fuck into you. The fact that she was moaning as she did so only made it that much worse. The vibration rushed through your body and you trembled from them as Jihyo and Momo continued to tease you.

“You knew it was a bad idea to try and touch yourself,” Jihyo said.

“That was naughty of you,” Momo added, lips just out of reach for a kiss. “And all we did was give you pleasure.”

You cried out, fully meeting her eye as the fingers of her free hand found one of your nipples. She tugged on it roughly before rolling and pinching it between her fingers quickly. You felt yourself clenching around Sana’s tongue as she fucked it into you.

“You are so lucky,” Momo smirked.

“Y-Yes Mistress,” you gasped.

“We’ll keep being nice to you,” Jihyo murmured. “One more orgasm.”

She waited for a moment and though you whimpered at the thought you didn’t protest. The two of them chuckled as Jihyo’s hand slid down your body.

“I knew they were needy,” Momo grinned.

“Such a needy baby,” Jihyo added as her fingers reached your clit and started rubbing, fast and rough.

The sound that made it past your lips was somewhere between a moan and a scream. The feeling was so intense. Sana’s tongue curling into you, Momo’s fingers playing with your sensitive nipples, and Jihyo toying with your poor clit again. Waves of pleasure were washing through you in an overwhelming way as your body jerked and squirmed in their grasp.

Momo dropped her lips to kiss at your neck and chest while Jihyo nipped at your ear.

“This is just what you wanted, right?” She teased. “The center of attention, everyone making you cum until you can’t think straight?”

“Y-Y-Y-” Words refused to form on your tongue but Jihyo seemed to understand you.

“Exactly what you wanted,” her fingers moved even faster and you felt your eyes rolling back then squeezing shut as tears started to prick them. “To be fucked senseless.”

Your body shook as every part of you tensed. The force of your impending release was almost frightening but also so welcoming as stars started bursting behind your eyes.

“Cum for us again baby, just like you wanted. Cum for us and show us just how well we’ve ruined you.”

You nearly screamed out as you came. Momo and Jihyo held your legs open, Jihyo’s fingers and Sana’s tongue not letting up, nor did Momo as your release crashed over you, nearly knocking you out. You felt your world tilting and you head felt fuzzy as your body shook and jerked and squirmed while pleasure completely sucked you under.

A few tears slipped from your eyes and Jihyo pulled her hands away. Momo and Sana followed suit. You couldn’t open your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing, babbling out a series of “thank yous” as Jihyo turned you onto your side to cuddle into her chest.

“Good job,” she hummed, rubbing your back. “That was such a good job.”

You felt Sana and Momo’s hands on you two, touching you soothingly as your body shook.

“That was so perfect,” Sana murmured, leaving a series of kisses along your skin.

“You took everything so well for us,” Momo added.

You snuggled into Jihyo's chest more, trying to keep calm while the intensity of it pushed you towards tears. Jihyo pressed a kiss to your head, seeming to read you well.

“You can cry if you need to,” she said softly. You shook your head and she chuckled while an alarm went off. Sana looked around, finding her phone in her bag.

“Oh crap, it’s 10.”

You managed to look up as Momo looked at you worriedly. “We have to go.”

“It’s okay,” your voice was a bit rough as you managed to speak.

Momo gave your thigh a squeeze and Sana kissed your nose as they scrambled to get their things back on before they headed to their cabin. You sat up and Jihyo followed you, not letting you sit up yet.

“Hold on,” she said. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, trying to push the swell of emotions down.

Jihyo held your jaw gently, looking at you a little more intently. You felt everything rushing back up to the surface and your face scrunched up as you started to cry.

“I-I’m sorry,” you blubbered as she pulled you against her chest.

“It’s alright,” she soothed, rubbing your back. “That was intense. Just let it all out. You can come stay the night with me if you want.”

“Yes, please,” you sniffled, clinging to her and nuzzling your head into her neck.

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anyoneseenadam · 4 years ago

Note

omg can u do smth about the inner circle finding out about reader and azriel’s relationship? maybe they’ve been like secretly dating for a while! ily <3

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: butt ton of fluff

a/n: i made this a part two to this fic! but it can be read separately, i love az sm so i hope you enjoy!! (this has not been proofread sorry lol)

------------------------------------——————————

A week later you were invited up to the house of wind. Azriel was swamped with work and missed you, and since he stayed there most the time he had dragged you in with him.

Currently you were lying in his bed, curled around a long pillow, and sleeping, wearing one of his shirts and your panties while he trained. He had promised you he would introduce you all soon but so far you had been sneaking about the house. A task that was easy for the spymaster, but less so for you.

He had tried to treat it like a holiday. Sneaking you down to the kitchen to bake cookies at midnight and spending nights on the roof, pointing out constellations.

When you had first arrived Azriel had explained what was going on with Nesta and Cassian as he snuck you in. While you were walking up, giggling behind one hand, the other tightly clasped in Azriel’s warm calloused hand, you had run into Nesta. Your eyes had widened meeting her, stomach dropping as she sized you up and down.

“Nesta,” Azriel’s voice calmed you slightly as you wrapped both hands around one of his, moving behind him ever so slightly. “This is my girlfriend; we’ve been dating for about six months and you cannot tell Cassian.”

She had smiled then and reached a hand out to shake yours, “am I the first to find out then?” she asked and you nodded.

“I’m (y/n).” You muttered, some confidence coming back.

“Pleasure to meet you, if you ever need someone to bitch too about him come to my room,” she left with a warm smile and you laughed, turning to Azriel.

“I like her,” you said, and he looked down at you frowning.

“Why would you need to bitch about me?” he asked, and you kissed his pout away, pulling his hand to continue onwards.

“Probably cause you smell.” He jabbed your side before picking you up and carrying you over his shoulder into his room, dumping you on the bed and crawling over you.

“Horrible girl,” he muttered, pressing kisses into your neck as he ground his hips down into yours. You giggled into his mouth; the rest of the day spent tangled up in him.

The next few days after that were relaxing. He was always away first thing to train, but you weren’t going to complain when he came back stripping of his clothes, sweaty and flushed but always holding a coffee for you.

The rest of the day would be spent either flying out to walk around shops and see markets in other courts, or sometimes flying over mountains, safe and secure in Azriel’s arms. The day before he had prepared a picnic and taken you to a beautiful field, smiling as you pointed out different kinds of flowers, before he picked a gerbera daisy and pushing it behind your ear, then kissing you so hard you almost fell over.

You woke slightly when Azriel returned, his heart warming when he saw you dozing, engulfed in his scent. He put your coffee next to you and you muttered something inaudible to him, snuggling further into his pillow and smiling sleepily when he pressed a kiss to your head, eyes never opening. He sat by you for a minute and pushed the hair away from your face before deciding he was going to bring you breakfast.

He pressed another kiss to your head before standing, quickly replacing his sweaty clothes, and leaving the room, letting you sleep in. His mind so filled with thoughts of his pretty girl and the smile she would give him when she woke up that he didn’t notice that Cassian wasn’t in the kitchen at his usual time.

You on the other hand noticed it pretty quickly, waking suddenly when the door slammed open, a man’s voice that you didn’t recognise asking your absent lover a question.

The well-built man stopped suddenly when you sat up in bed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tried to work out what to say.

“You’re not Azriel.” He stated, realising that the strange girl he saw was covered in his brothers’ scent. And was wearing his brothers’ clothes. And drinking coffee from his brothers’ mug.

“Yes I am.” You said on impulse, shaking your head at your own stupidity but relaxing when the man you presumed was Cassian relaxed.

“Who are you?” he asked, a smile breaking out on his face when he realised who you were.

“Umm I’m (y/n), Azriel’s girlfriend.” You sat up straighter, pulling the covers tighter over you as you realised you were half dressed.

Cassian’s eyes lit up and he ran to your side, sitting in front of you and cheering. “Tell me everything! How did you guys meet? What do you do? How long have you been together?” he bombarded you with questions and you laughed nervously, silently preying that Azriel would return soon.

“Uhh we’ve been together for about six months and I own a flower shop, that’s where we met,” you explained to him when the door flew open again, another tall, dark haired man running in with three women. You recognised your high lord and lady and blushed bright red as they stared at you, smiling so widely.

“We came as fast as we could.” Rhys explained, introducing himself, his wife and Amren and Morrigan. They all crowded you and you moved back slightly, feeling the panic rise in you as they all asked you a million questions.

They were all kind, but so excited that their friend had gotten a girlfriend they were acting slightly insane. You tried to answer their questions, but they were coming so fast that your breathing began to pick up slightly, insecurities rising as you realised that you had just woken up. Your hair was probably a mess, and you hadn’t even washed your face, and you were in an old t-shirt and probably smelt bad.

You looked up when Azriel walked in, his eyes widening at the sight of his entire family in your room.

“What are you guys doing?” he asked as his family turned to him instead, asking him a million questions, Cassian practically in tears that he hadn’t been told.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your arm, turning to see Feyre smiling at you, “I’m sorry if we freaked you out a bit,” she said and you went to deny but she continued, “it can be a but much I know I went through similar, except for me it wasn’t eight in the morning!” her voice raised at the end and Rhysand turned around sheepishly.

“You’re right, my deepest apologies,” he said, still unable to keep the smile off his face, “Come to ours for dinner this evening.”

You smiled at him, nodding as your knee bounced to get rid of the anxious energy, muttering goodbye as Feyre and Rhys dragged their family out the room.

“I love you!” Cassian called over his shoulder and you laughed, eyes filling with tears you were trying to hold back.

“Cauldron baby I’m so sorry, are you okay?” Azriel asked and you nodded at him laughing at yourself as you cried.

“I’m okay, really. They were all so nice.” You assured him as he put down the tray he was holding and wrapping his arms around you.

“Then why are you crying?” he asked, his hands gentle as they wiped the stray tears.

“I cry at everything, the other day I cried because someone said they liked my dress,” you laughed and he shook his head, laughing with you.

“You’re in touch with your emotions,” he reasoned,

“I’m a baby. A baby with no social skills that gets overwhelmed very easily,” His shoulders shook with laughter as he lay the two of you down, “I haven’t even had my coffee yet and that was so much social interaction.” You complained, wiping your eyes as you calmed down.

He smiled down at you, kissing your forehead gently, “Are you up for seeing them properly tonight?” he asked, holding you so gently.

“Yeah it’ll be nice,” you assured him, “plus I do think me, and Cassian have to discuss our shared love for you. I think we might start a fan club.”

Azriel laughed, “If you say so.”

“I really do by the way. Love you I mean. Like I love you so much it makes me stupid, when I’m bored I just think about you and things we could do, and it makes me so happy.” You raised yourself up to look down at him as you spoke, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as he smiled dopily up at you.

“I love you so ridiculously much too.” You sat up together, your back pressed against his chest as he passed you your coffee and the breakfast he had prepared the two of you.

The stress of tonight could come later, you were just content to spend the rest of your morning in his arms.

#acofas #acotar #azriel #acomaf #azriel x reader #acowar #acofs #acosf #rhysand

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

The Sticking Point 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, possible violence, illness, death, bullying, ableism, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are sent in the place of your ailing sister to marry a stranger. (Regency AU)

Character: Loki

Note: Work is starting to get pretty busy again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You are left undisturbed for near a day after the news arrives. You should be grateful for the reprieve but you cannot find respite among your unease.

Edith is gone, your world is splintered, yet this marriage must proceed. Not for your own sake, but for your family's. You expect your father wouldn't be content to have you return to his household. The only benefit to your sister's tragedy is that he was able to rid himself of you.

Doreen informs you that you are to ready for another lunch. You choose a gown of faded peach and a bonnet with a narrow rim and white ribbon. She helps you dress before leaving to look in on your mother.

You look in the mirror and wonder if maybe you were prettier your voice wouldn't matter so much. You pin the brooch with the blue bird just below your neckline. You pretend Edith is there with you, talking you through this. I believe in you, sissy, remember when you stole my cap back from that angry hog?

You wait to be called. You hate to presume or wait around where others might be disturbed by your presence. It isn't Doreen who comes but another servant, a broad steely-haired woman. She bids you out and you follow meekly, gaze straying to the golden frames and painted canvas.

The meal is hosted in the dining hall. A long ebony table with matching chairs. Each seat is upholstered with emerald velvet and capped with curlicued posts. You are shown to yours by Parson to the one reserved for you.

Your mother sits with her tears hidden behind her fan, not so much as looking in your direction. Doreen stands at her shoulder and offers a handkerchief. You can only hear the reprimand she would issue should you be blubbering so.

You rise as the duke enters, but not alone. Your mother leans heavily on the way, gathering herself with several flaps of her fan. She snaps it shut and tucks it away as she raises her chin, shooing away Doreen.

“Lady Thea,” Laufeyson begins before addressing you, “my parents, the Grand Duke Odin and the Grand Duchess, Frigga.”

He steps aside as an older couple stand regally in the archway. The man is burly but stout, with dark grey hair streaked with white. His jaw is set squarely and there is a familiar blue tint to his eyes. The woman is tall and blond and fair, her figure untouched by her age and her hair so golden that the grey strands only seem to make her shine.

You recognise them. The portraits in the main hall. Even with some decades since the artist’s work, they are beyond compare to their pigmented likenesses. They are as elegant and resplendent as their son. It sinks a rotten pit in your chest. Perhaps, they might not want you either.

“We’re acquainted, Thea and I,” Frigga declares, “I believe your father might recall her.”

“Yes, Lady Thea,” he bows, “I know your husband better, I’m afraid.”

The duke has a pinched look to his lip as he listens with his chin high. He moves stiffly, gesturing to the table, “mm, yes, let us be seated–”

“Loki,” Frigga says as she slowly wades forward, her skirts rippling like water, “what about your brother? He received an invitation, didn’t he?”

“Mother, certainly he did, but he is ever… unpredictable,” Loki offers. It is jarring to think of him as anything but the duke. To think he is anything but the master of Jade Park.

“Lady Jane is with child,” Frigga counters, “it might take them some time.”

“Lady Frigga, Lord Odin,” your mother begins, “I cannot remark upon your son’s hospitality enough. He’s been a wonderful host, especially…” she pauses and turns her head, touching her cheek with a gloved hand.

“Oh, we were distraught to hear of Lady Edith. Such a tragedy. So young and beautiful.”

You stare at the wall. You try not to think of the statement laced between her words. You are young too but not so beautiful.

“And your younger daughter is endearing, that is a rather charming brooch,” she turns her green irises on you.

“Thank you, Lady Fwigga,” you hold your head high as you cling to a thread of dignity.

Her cheeks bulb and there is a slight tremor in her chin before she can answer, “oh, that is a peculiar accent, dear.”

You don’t know if you should thank her. You can’t tell if she holds any derision but you’d prefer she not mention it. It’s obvious, it needn’t be emphasized.

Your eyes skitter over to Odin who watches you with quiet consideration. He does not hold the same disapproval as your father but you can’t read much in his face.

“She is all I have left,” your mother bemoans, “two daughters. That’s all I got. How I wanted to give my husband his heir but… it was not to be and now…”

“Oh, Thea,” Frigga drawls, “if you are to fraught to remain–”

“No, no,” your mother expands her fan and pushes air into her face, dabbing her tears with her knuckle, “no, I’m so happy for our families to come together.”

“As are we. It is only sensible–”

She is interrupted by some furor at the other end of the house. A smile curls her lips as a booming voice fills the corridor like thunder. As your eyes drift towards the doorway, they meet Loki’s. He looks at you with a furrow between his brows before he shifts his gaze towards the clamour.

The men rise first. You get to your feet as Parson rushes in to announce the new arrival. As he introduces Lord Thor and Lady Jane, he is almost breathless. The couple appears behind him, the towering duke clapping the groom’s shoulder so he staggers. The duchess gives a pretty smile to the grand duchess as her hand rests on her rounding stomach.

“Oh, Jane,” Frigga sweeps across the chamber to embrace her daughter-in-law without pretense, “you are immaculate,” she pulls back and cradles her cheeks, “you look well.”

“Do I? I’ve been struck sick for days.”

“But it shall pass,” Frigga avows and beckons the duchess with her to the table, “Lady Jane, my first son’s wife.”

You bow your head and your mother does the same, taking the lead as you remain silent, “Lady Jane, a delight to… meet you. Oh, my apologies,” your mother fans herself more rapidly, “your eyes, they have the same shape as my dear Edith’s.”

“Edith?” Jane utters and looks at Frigga. The grand duchess leans over to whisper gently. “Oh, my condolences, Lady Thea, oh and such timing as this?” She turns to you, “a betrothal is supposed to be a joyous affair, I cannot bear to think how you are doing.”

You don’t know what to say, as often you find yourself lacking. Your lips tremble but you do your best to keep your composure.

“I will miss my sista vewy much,” you try to speak slow and clear, but it just sounds clumsy, “I didn’t know…” you see the flicker in her eyes, the dimple in her cheek, the judgment casting a shadow over her, “I didn’t know you and yaw husband would attend.”

Jane’s lips part and her brows rise as she looks at her mother-in-law. Frigga tries not to acknowledge the almost taunting expression. You can’t. You feel it throttling you. Just be quiet.

“How fetching,” Thor intones, surprising you as he comes to stand behind his mother and wife, chewing a biscuit he snatched from the tray.

“Fetching?” Jane scoffs.

“The way she speaks, yes? I think it is… interesting.”

“That hardly matters,” Frigga insists, “it is what one says, not how they say it.”

You clamp your lips together. You want to crumple to the floor and sob. You don’t want to be stood here like some jester to entertain these people. You want to go home and see your sister’s casket. You want to be near her, even if she’s not really there.

Again, you find Loki’s distasteful glare. His throat bobs and his lips thin even further.

“Yes, yes, let us sit and eat. My staff has worked the morning to prepare us a fine lunch,” he chides, “I’d hate to see it wasted.”

🔹

You stare at your untouched plate of cold meats and cheese. You’re not very hungry. Perhaps it is grief, or more likely it is shame. You want to shrink down to a morsel of dust and disappear.

There is an odd sort of skill acquired by those who are quiet. Observation. The ability to see so much, to take in every gesture, every twitch, every look with meaning. And you do not miss those errant gazes in your direction. Some with anticipation, others with dread, each waiting for you to say another twisted syllable.

Your mother fills the silence you refuse to break. She regales the table with the story of how she met your father on the promenade, how he trod on her skirts, and she hit him with her reticule. A tale you’ve heard anon.

She hiccups suddenly and cups her hand over her mouth. You turn to look at her as her wrinkles deepen and her gulps become sobs. She shakes her hand and waves her other. Doreen appears at her shoulder.

“My lady,” the servant says.

“Oh, Lady Thea,” Frigga dismisses the maid with a subtle flick of her fingers, “let us get you some air. It is such a lovely day, and I believe we do have some matters to attend to.” She helps your mother to her feet, hanging on to her elbow, “Lord Odin, you will accompany, in case she faints.”

Odin grunts. He hasn’t said much of anything. He seems more enamoured of this plate. As he stands, he stuffs a roll of sliced ham into his mouth. Chairs scrape as you stand to see them off. Doreen follows the older trio through the archway as they set off.

You resume your seat and watch the tablecloth. Your mother was of little assistance while present but without her, you are defenseless. Loki sips from his tea as Jane spears a slice of pear with her fork and Thor cracks a hard-boiled egg in his hand.

“So, I’ve not seen you before. You haven’t debuted?” Jane asks.

Your eyes flit up to hers. You almost don’t believe she’s talking to her. You’d been praying they’d forget you were there.

“My sista was ill and she is older so I was waiting until she went fast.”

“Fast? Went fast?” Jane repeats as she pretends to think, “went fast where?”

Loki sighs and sets his cup on the saucer with a harsh clink, “first. She meant first.”

“Oh, my, apologies, I’m afraid I have a bit of trouble understanding you. I don’t think I’ve heard any sort of affectation,” he smiles falls to something more sinister, “it is rather… garish.”

“Jane,” Thor says through a mouthful of egg, stopping himself to swallow, “she speaks clearly enough.”

“I’ve heard of physicians who can tend to that. They can teach you how to pronounce your words properly. Through repetition.” She enunciates each word, making sure to move her lips deliberately.

You fight a grimace. You swallow and look at your plate. It isn't the first time someone's made those comments, she will doubtful be the last. Just like those boys who used to call you 'widiculous' or 'wavishing'.

“Please, this doesn’t need to be a whole point of conversation,” Loki reproaches.

“I am only offering advice.”

“You are the one who spoke to her. None of us wanted to hear her.”

“Loki,” Thor says appalled, “she is to be your wife.”

“I was supposed to marry her sister. The normal one. The dead one.”

You flinch and let your shoulders slump. You bring your hands up and cover the brooch on your dress, as if holding Edith tight. Your lip pokes out as you fight a tide of grief that threatens to erupt.

“Aw, look, she is going to cry,” Jane taunts.

“Jane,” Thor’s voice hardens, “no more.”

Jane snaps her lips shut and rolls her beautiful hazel eyes. She pops the slice of sugared pear into her mouth behind her cruel smirk. Loki sneers at his fork as he twirls it in his hand. Thor gives you a glum look but it lands like a slap. He cannot relate to you, he can only pity you, and that is worse than contempt.

“If you are cuwious, Lady Jane, I have been to many physicians. They cannot help me,” you shrug, “just like they could not help my sista.”

Thor clucks and lets out a breath through his nostrils. Jane doesn’t falter, smiling as she chews, and Loki pushes himself to his feet. His chair threatens to topple as he swivels on his heel.

“I would see to our parents, make certain they are well and that this… contract is still in effect,” he takes rigid steps along the table, “I should hate to squander any more time in uncertainty.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #the sticking point #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor #jane foster #frigga #odin

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heejojo · 3 years ago

Text

Mr Hollywood

summary: Sim Jaeyun had made it, he had finally fulfilled his dream of being an artist but he had to leave the place he called he called home promising he would come back when everything was okay. He’s back now but are you sure it’s the same Jake you once knew?

genre: fluff, minor angst, childhood lovers turned exes to lovers again

pairing: Celebrity Sim Jaeyun x non-celebrity reader (with enhypen and treasure appearances)

warning: none

word count: 4.1k

a/n: although it has been proofread, I cannot guarantee no errors so please let me know if you see any! please let me know what you think. likes and reblogs are appreciated and I hope you have a good day.

listen to the playlist here

send an ask or fill out this form to be part of the taglist!

taglist (open): @enhyphun @jungwoniics @penny-quinn @ncthpen @fylithia @taecup-ontrack @renee1414@studioreader

“And the Artist Of The Year Award goes to none other than...” the announcer said, keeping you all at the edge of your seats. Everyone here had voted for Jake so many times so that he would win. The announcer looked at the folded card in his hand before smiling and saying.

“Jake Sim!” The screams of everyone in the beer parlour with you watching the award ceremony were probably louder than those in the venue itself. You all watched in pride as the look of shock was evident on his face and he shakily walked to the podium to collect the award. You smiled at how good he looked, he had come so far from the boy you once knew here.

Five years ago, Jake had left his hometown, where he grew up for 18 years to pursue his dream. Granted, not everyone is supposed to stay for the rest of their lives but he thought he was going to stay but he made up his mind to leave for his passion. You all supported him even if you weren’t able to talk to him because of his busy schedule. Being able to cheer him from the sidelines was what you were content with. He was the pride of the town and people did not hesitate to show him off.

He gave the announcer a bow and collected the award. You could see the way his hands shook as he collected the award as if it felt unreal that he won.

“I would like to thank God for the ability to get to this point today and to thank my parents for always teaching me the right way and having the courage to let their child pursue his dreams even if it meant that I would be very far away; almost out of reach even. I love you. To all those that have continuously supported me and listened to my music, thank you. To the staff that have worked so hard and everyone I've had the pleasure of meeting, a big thank you to you" he said and walked off.

The excitement of the crowd reduced and everyone eventually retired to their homes while chatting amongst themselves. You think about the award one more time, feeling happy for him and move on. After all, the same way Sim has a life to live is the same way you do also.

The next day, when you wake up you feel a shift in the atmosphere. The birds are still chirping, yes but something feels unusual. You brush off the paranoia you feel and decide to do your usual morning duties and carry on with your day. While other people your age wanted to have prestigious jobs(not like there was anything wrong with that), you wanted something simple and had decided on being either a cafe owner or a florist.

Sadly, the cafe owner agenda wasn't able to work out because everyone in the vicinity was now aware of the way you burned down a cafe trying to bake and collectively decided that you should not be allowed to make food for people. Flowers were better than running a cafe shop. You stayed with your flowers and you were able to give

someone a flower when they needed it.

Need a flower for your mother? You got it, a daylily was exactly what they needed. Wanted to attend a funeral? Take a bouquet of lilies. It was easy to understand and you didn't directly put anyone in harm’s way. Although your shop was hardly ever full, you were content with everything.

That's why you're shocked when you find a line of people waiting to be let into your shop at 9 am. You raised an eyebrow in confusion but you opened the door nevertheless. At the end of the day, you were the one earning the money. You had things to buy, didn't you?

You take your place at the counter and start attending to the customers. They didn't tell you to pick out one for them and just chose it themselves. The crowd slowly reduced till there was only one person left. When there remained a few people, you quietly moved to one person to ask for the reason why they were so cheerful today.

"Jungwon, do you know why everyone is so happy today? My shop was full today!"

"Are you complaining about it?" He asks. Jungwon was the son of the cafe shop owner. He came to your shop frequently when he was on his break and you would talk to each other.

“Of course, I’m not. I just want to know what’s making everyone come here all of a sudden. Even old man Jay came here and you know that man never leaves his house. He bought a red carnation and I’m confused because who does he have affection for that he’s getting them flowers”

“He has a wife you know”

“Please, the last time they had a conversation with each other was when he asked for a divorce” you deadpanned.

“Look Y/N, who’s the one person in this town anyone would do anything for?”

“Kim Junkyu?”

“Close but not him, I wouldn’t do anything for him” Jungwon stated making you roll your eyes.

“The only person left is Sim Jaeyun and we know it’s not possible”

“Ding Ding Ding! We have a winner”

You give him a shaky smile before asking him, “You’re joking right?”

“I’m not,” he says sincerely. You nod your head and go sit on the nearest stool. Placing a hand on your throat as you begin to scratch at it (something you did when you were nervous) and just sit in silence while Jungwon continues talking.

“After the award ceremony, his management released a statement on his Instagram saying that he would be going on hiatus for two months to visit his family. So we townsmen decided to get flowers to pave the road with because he would be coming back. We would have used gold leaves but it’s too expensive”

He continued talking and talking while you were still trying to process the fact that Jake would be coming back. Physically he was still going to be the same Jake you had a crush on before he left but personality-wise? You doubted that. You heard stories of the way fame had changed people; the love from others would get to their heads and make them overly egotistical. A part of you knew that he wouldn’t change but the other part was unsure. Before he left, you made him promise to not change and while you knew promises could be broken, you knew he wouldn’t break them.

“Jungwon, I want to close the shop for today. I’m not feeling too well and want to rest a bit”

“No problem Y/N! If you want, I can stay here and do business for you”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve made enough money today to last me for next month” you say and shoo him away.

At home, you just sit and think for some time before getting up to make some tea and reminiscing about your high school memories. You hardly had feelings for people so when you did, you let them know immediately. When you told Jake that you liked him, he told you that he felt the same. You ignored him for a week after that because you didn’t think that far. After that, you met up with him and explained the reason why you avoided him. You went out with each other for less than 2 weeks and during that period, he had told you about his dreams of becoming an artist and you supported him wholeheartedly.

He would carry your books from school and you both would walk home together every day. He'd play the violin for you because he was good. You'd both pet stray cats and run when they started chasing you. All good things came to an end when he told you that he had to leave to pursue his dream. You both knew you were too young to even attempt a long-distance relationship so you let each other go even though it hurt. You’d watch his music videos and support his activities even though there was a possibility he would never return. Now that he was going to be here, how were you going to cope knowing that your feelings for him were still the same while his feelings could have gone, especially with all the beautiful people in the industry?

That night, while everyone was outside welcoming Mr Hollywood, you stayed in your house dreading the days that would come. The town was small so there was no way that you wouldn’t bump into him. The voices were loud when you tried to sleep. Seems like everyone was ecstatic that Jake had come back. The noise wasn’t able to let you sleep but deep down you knew it was because you were nervous.

You decide to bake cookies to reduce the stress you are currently feeling. You had learnt from your mistakes and no longer burnt kitchens (your kitchen being valid proof of that), but Jungwon’s dad still wouldn’t lift his ban. You baked cookies till 2 am before you were really tired enough to sleep. You had baked almost a hundred cookies that night.

The next morning, you made sure to wake up early so you wouldn’t run into anyone. Thankfully, the townspeople didn’t want to buy flowers that morning and got started on the orders that people out of town had placed. You brought cookies for Jungwon so he could test them. You were trying to fix the counter when someone walked in, making the bell jingle. Assuming it was Jungwon, you say, “Jungwon the cookies are on the counter. Test them and tell me what you think, don’t eat them and run away”

“I’m not a Jungwon but can I talk to Y/N?” You’re startled but you freeze, instantly recognizing the voice. Jake Sim.

“Hello, what would you like?” you asked with a forced smile. You were way too close, the proximity was making you uneasy. He looked a bit disappointed with the way you answered him but what did he expect to come to? It had been five years.

“I just wanted to tal-” he is cut off by Jungwon bursting through the door.

“Y/N, you will not believe who I saw. I saw Jake Sim with my very own two eyes. He looks so much hotter in real life. Do you think he’d sign my back if I asked-” he stopped instantly when he saw the person that was in the flower shop.

He looked like a fish out of water with the way his mouth was agape. Looking at you, then at Jake and then you again. He brought his hand to his head and he hit it hard making you startled.

“Sorry I will leave now,” Jungwon said.

“To cry” he murmured, making you chuckle. Jungwon was someone that cried when he did something embarrassing.

“Jungwon wait,” you say and walk to give him the cookies you had packed for him with a little note.

“Eat them and get back to me when you’re less you know...embarrassed” He snatches them from your hands and makes a run for the door. You giggle then you remember that Jake was still present. Turning to face him, you ask if he wants anything. “I want to talk to you”

You motion him to sit on the spare chair you had and he obliges. Before you even ask him a question, he begins, “Was that your boyfriend?”

“No, not that it concerns you though”

“Where you last night? I saw everyone but you. The Johnny kid said you were feeling ill. I doubt that wasn’t true as you made cookies. The last time I remembered, you were really bad at anything relating to the kitchen”

“Times change and people change, Jaeyun. It’s been 5 years since we last had a conversation with each other. I’m not the same and I’m sure you’re not the same either”

“Let’s get to know each other again. Do things the old fashioned way. Go on dates, paint, and bake with each other. Do some of the things we could have done 5 years ago.”

“And then when you have to leave and have no contact with each other again”

“I won’t do that, I promise. Never again.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Let me prove it to you-”

He’s cut off by the entrance of another customer and stands up to leave but you don’t miss the longing look in his eyes. You hope he can see the same look in yours that’s covered by hurt and waiting for someone to return.

You were not expecting Jake to be at your store first thing on a Friday morning. He was even earlier than you and you're the boss.

“What are you doing here?” you ask. He was bouncing on his feet and looking cherry when you hadn’t even gotten enough sleep.

“I’m here to take you out. Do it like the old times where I’d wait for you so we could go to school together”

“I have work to do today and I’m going to be booked so another time”

“I have come to offer my assistance so tomorrow we can go out together”

“Don’t you have things to do?”

“I’m on a hiatus, I’m free for almost two months and if you want I can be free for more. Imagine all the things we could do in that time” he trails off, fantasizing when you hadn’t even told him that you still liked him. Meanwhile, you had opened the door and walked in.

"Aren't you going to come in and stop thinking of cute stuff?" you ask him and he quickly runs in, flustered.

He takes a look around and puts on a determined face and gets a broom and starts cleaning. For someone that's supposed to be a celebrity, he was cleaning like an employee. You take a rag and wipe all the surfaces and take care of the flowers. After an hour, the shop is ready to open. Customers come rolling in once they see a new help. Although they're surprised, they don't question it.

During your break, Jake picks up a chrysanthemum and hands it to you. "It's for you because you're beautiful," he says

"Hate to rain on your parade but if you gave me this in Italy, it means you wish I were dead" and with that, he takes back the flower instantly and brings a single red rose. You receive it with a small laugh, finding it funny when he doesn't want you misinterpreting him. You were having a sweet moment with him until Jungwon came in again.

"I'm getting tired of seeing you here Mr Sim. As much as I adore you, I need to meet my friend" he states and pulls you to the back. "Care to explain why Jake Sim is in your store again!?"

"Nope" you respond, popping the p. He brought his hand to his forehead and tried to relax his muscles because according to him, he doesn't want to look forty-five when he's thirty years old.

"Look, it's weird coming here and seeing you have company. I'm not against you having company seeing as you've been lonely the entire time I've known you but, I can't stay in his presence! Why must a man Look so gorgeous!? He's ruining my already broken esteem. Everybody saw him in real life and was wondering how a man could look that good."

"They saw him when he was seventeen years old," you tell him.

"And he's twenty-three now! He doesn't look the same and I don't even need to have known him then to know now"

"Jungwon, I want you to get to the point," you tell him, basically pleading at that point because your break would soon be over.

"I'll see you when I have enough confidence to meet him," he says and leaves the store. You shake your head at his overdramatic behaviour and continue with your day. Jake proves to be amazing assistance and you got things done quicker and even closed earlier.

"Thank you for offering help, you can go home now. See you tomorrow" you say in an attempt to shoo him out.

"I want to walk you home" he announces and goes with you home.

"Do you hate me for not talking to you?" he asks.

"I don't hate you. To be honest, I think we both did the right thing by not talking to each other. It was good we had each other in mind but I would have caused too much of a distraction for you. It was great you focused on your career and achieved your goals. I did well too"

"Johnny boy said you were lonely though," he said.

"Number one, I know you know his name is Jungwon but you're just being petty. Two, why were you eavesdropping on our conversation and three, I still had a bit of hope that one day you'd return. I didn't think that you'd come" you say truthfully. The night was making you vulnerable when answering his questions.

"I always asked my mum how you were doing when I called her, you know? I wanted to check up on you without doing so myself. I'd ask her to give you a pop tart because I knew they were your favourite"

Even though he was still far away, he still had kept you in his mind the same way you did for him.

You got home and stayed at the door before you took him by the shoulder and said, "Let's go out together and have fun". He gives you a soft smile and watches you go in before he retires to his own home.

The following day, you're waiting for him to come. You had tried to dress up for the date but didn't want to underdress or overdress since he hadn't told you where you were going. So you decided to wear a simple sundress and made yourself look nice. He arrived wearing something as casual as you in a car.

"Is this your dad's?" you questioned.

"Yup, I borrowed it to take you out,” he says and winks at you. You shake your head laughing and get in the passenger seat and he drives.

“Where are we going?” you ask, curious.

“You’ll see when we get there” you don’t respond but wind down the window and feel the wind on your face which makes you smile.

You catch Jake glancing at you while he’s driving and he doesn’t even try to hide it. “At least try to pretend you’re not starting”

“I can’t help it, you’re so pretty” This kid, he was making it too easy for you to fall for him.

“Do you still like me, Jaeyun?” you inquire.

“I do,” he said with certainty. Has he always been this bold? You don’t say anything and continue to look out so he reaches over and takes one of your hands in his while he uses his other one to drive. You look at him but just continue doing what you’re doing.

“You might not believe me but I mean it,” he says, lightly squeezing your hand as a form of reassurance.

He stops the car at an aquarium and you both come out. You have a wonderful time and although people recognize him and are surprised to see him with you, they don't say anything and leave you alone. You smiled that day more than you had ever smiled before.

"The fishes look good to eat" you whisper in his ear and he playfully smacks your arm and jokes.

"You monster! How can you say that!?" to which you jokingly shrug.

After the aquarium, he takes you to a flower field. "I did my research this time so I don't give you a wrong flower." He picked up a primrose and says, "I know this one means love is eternal so I'm giving it to you because no matter the distance between us, our love will be forever"

You feel warm this time and know that even if he were to leave again, the distance wouldn't matter because together, you both could overcome anything.

"You're all I need" you manage to say.

"When did you get all sentimental?" he teases and you chase after him in the flower field. When you get tired, you lie down on the grass and he lays next to you. Your hands find his hands amid all the grass and you squeeze it. Unknowingly, you fall asleep next to him.

The next weeks that follow include you two bonding and Jake having fun and being relaxed. He was able to write a song but wouldn't let you see the lyrics, saying it wasn't something he wants you to see yet. You met his parents and thanked his mum for taking care of you indirectly and conversed with his dad too. You could tell that he hadn't forgotten any of the values his parents had thought him. He grew up surrounded by a lot of love so he had more than enough to give.

He also met your parents and he was nervous even though you had tried to reassure him that they wouldn't do anything to him. Your father tried to act scary but deep down you knew he had a soft spot for him. Your mom was showering with more affection than she gave you and Jungwon tried stylishly asking him for his celebrity crush numbers.

"Jake, since you're dating my friend can you link me up with Han Sohee? You've worked with her before, help a friend out"

"I'll ask her but no promises" Jungwon was so happy the entire day.

A few days before Jake had to go back because his hiatus was over, you both were talking about how things would be while baking muffins.

"Y/N don't think I won’t talk to you when I go because I can already see the gears turning in your head."

"Pass me the butter Jaeyun"

"Are we back to the first-name basis? Call me the sweet names" he whined.

"Just pass the butter babe" and he passes it instantly.

"Now back to what you were saying, I know you won't forget me obviously and if you try I I can always take a flight to get to you." You tell him. You weren't going to wait around for him anymore. If you missed him, you'd go see him if he was unable to come to see you.

"Better, I was already worried," he says and gives you a back hug.

The day he left was bittersweet and you shed a few tears. It took a lot of willpower to not cry in front of him. You didn't want him to leave but you knew that he had a job to get to and you couldn't be in the way of that.

You both regularly kept in touch, calling each other at least twice a week to catch up on what had happened during each other's week. He hadn't told you that he released a new song and you found out through his fanboy Jungwon who was now the self-acclaimed president of his fan club.

"Y/N, have you heard Jake's new solo? I cried to it for an hour straight" You didn't have any time to check what was going on because someone had ordered flowers for their wedding and you had to get them done quickly.

"New solo?" you ask and Jungwon sits you down and plays the song for you. Truth be told, you cried as well. It felt like he was there with you telling you that he'd never change.

You watched the interview and when he was asked about the meaning or person behind the song, he said, "There's someone that I love and I wanted to let her know that no matter how famous I get, I won't ever change and she shouldn't change either". He looked directly at the camera then continued, "You're stuck with me forever".

That night, you called him and cried on the phone to him telling him about how you saw the interview.

"Y/N, you know I care about you" you sobbed even harder.

"I care about you too, forever"

"Forever baby, regardless of the distance"

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #ficscafe #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfics #enhypen scenarios #enhypen jake #jake sim #jake x reader #enhypenwriters

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drowningbydegrees · 4 years ago

Text

As it turns out, falling into bed with your very best friend who you are privately very much in love with isn't nearly so nerve wracking as waking up with them the morning after.

Read on AO3

He can’t remember the last time waking up was a remotely soothing experience. Geralt’s sleep muzzy mind has no other word for the body plastered against his front from shoulder to hip, the steady heartbeat against his palm where his hand is splayed out across someone’s chest. His nose is tucked against the nape of someone’s neck, and the scent is far too familiar to be jarring.

“Jaskier,” he rumbles quietly, his mouth miles ahead of the rest of him. The quiet, absent pleasure of waking up tangled with someone who smells sleepy and content and like they’re his leaves no room for reason. There’s no room for anything really, except to press a kiss to whatever patch of skin he can find, savoring the soft sigh it earns him.

Jaskier is… The night before rushes back to him, and Geralt almost jerks away, even though it would be entirely pointless to bother with that now. He cracks an eye open and is met with the disaster that Jaskier’s hair, mussed in the night by sleep, and by Geralt’s fingers buried in it before that. Even as worry begins to creep in, he sort of wants to do it again.

This isn’t the first time they’ve shared a bed. This probably isn’t even the hundredth time they’ve shared a bed. This is most definitely the first time they’ve done so with so little clothing between them, none to be exact. There’s only the blanket tucked around them both, warm and lovely and unexpectedly distressing.

Geralt isn’t sorry, per se. Jaskier’s chest rises and falls under Geralt’s palm in the slow rhythm of sleep. It’s the loveliest thing Geralt can remember waking up to, and therein lies the problem. An emotion fed only grows, and this unruly, sprawling affection is the worst offender. Stupidly, Geralt had thought getting this out of his system would quell it, but the longing reaches a fever pitch instead.

Jaskier is beautiful, all the more so for the way he shifts in his sleep, closing the gap Geralt has tried to put between them. Geralt could happily wake like this every day for the rest of his life, but it isn’t a fair thing to ask of someone who flits from one love to the next like a butterfly between flowers. He will not trap Jaskier in this just because he happens to be besotted. Somehow, the resolve not to try to keep this does nothing to ease the guilt welling up that he wants to in the first place.

Nothing Jaskier said the night before conveyed meaning beyond a playful desire to tumble into bed together. Moving the target now would only be cruel. He should be rolling out of bed, hastening them back to normal. He should be proving that this has done nothing to harm their friendship. It isn’t Jaskier’s fault, after all, the way Geralt wants to breathe him in and kiss him senseless and forget the rest of the world until the innkeeper boots them out.

“Geralt?” Jaskier startles the witcher from his worries, wriggling impossibly closer and laying a palm over his knuckles. “You okay?”

“Thinking,” Geralt replies vaguely.

“Well, don’t hurt yourself,” Jaskier teases, still warm and lethargic with sleep. Geralt almost manages to take advantage of the levity of the moment and extricate himself, but before he can, Jaskier rolls over so they’re nearly nose to nose. His fingers cradle Geralt’s cheek and any attempt to escape now would just be graceless. “What about?”

Geralt doesn’t know how to answer, so he only hums noncommittally and hopes Jaskier will let it lie. Of course, Jaskier being Jaskier, does no such thing. He takes advantage of the change in positions to tangle his legs up with Geralt. “I can’t tell you to knock it off if you don’t tell me what it is.”

“We should get going.” Geralt tries once more to escape, frowning when Jaskier shows no sign of releasing him. It’s silly of course. Jaskier couldn’t hope to hold him here if Geralt was set on leaving. He just can’t actually make himself do it.

“Was it that bad a night?” It’s an easy opening, an invitation to stray back to their usual banter, but Geralt gets no further than a raised eyebrow before Jaskier is clasping a hand over the witcher’s mouth. “Wait. Don’t answer that or I might have to smother you with a pillow and that’ll just be unfortunate for both of us.”

Right there, with Jaskier smiling at him, Geralt can almost believe they’re going to survive this. Almost, but almost still leaves a distance he cannot cross. As soon as Jaskier pulls his hand back from Geralt’s mouth, the witcher opens it. “They’re not going to let us sleep in forever.”

“They might if I convince them to let me play again this evening. We could move on tomorrow,” Jaskier ventures, but something in Geralt’s face must give him pause. “Oh do not look at me like that. The world isn’t going to end just because you stop to take a breath once in a while, Geralt.”

“That’s not…” Geralt starts, but he doesn’t know how to finish. There are no words that convey the razor wire sensation of facing down the impermanence of Jaskier’s affections, of realizing how deeply his own feelings run far too late.

“Shh.” Geralt knew what to do with impulse, with Jaskier’s mouth crashing into his, with Jaskier’s hands scrabbling at him to shed his clothes. He doesn’t know what to do with the tender, intentional way Jaskier regards him this morning, lips pressing to the witcher’s brow and lingering afterwards. Does it mean something, or does Jaskier grant all his lovers this subdued, aimless devotion? Lust was so much simpler than this aching sort of affection that puts down roots even as Geralt tries to burn it away.

Geralt doesn’t precisely surrender, but he resigns himself to the lazy attention Jaskier is so determined to lavish on him. If he lets Jaskier turn him away later instead of now, there will be at least this one pleasant thing to remember. So he doesn’t complain at Jaskier’s fingers combing through his hair, or the bard’s body pressed warmly to his. If every touch feels like a harbinger of their demise, it’s still hard to let go of.

He almost passes things off as okay, he thinks, until Jaskier kisses him. It’s a brief thing, immediately withdrawn. “Geralt?”

If realizing the hopeless situation he’s stumbled into was uncomfortable, the idea of talking about it is nothing short of torture.

“Well, you haven’t shoved me out of bed yet, so you’re not mad. Talk to me,” Jaskier coaxes, his expression so openly concerned and affectionate, Geralt could scream.

“It’s no-” Geralt starts, but Jaskier shut him up with a theatrically sour look.

“I swear if you say nothing,” Jaskier threatens aimlessly, an easy smile on his lips, but underneath, Geralt can hear the way his anxious heart threatens to vibrate right out of his chest.

“I don’t know what this is,” Geralt admits because that, at least, is safe. It’s nothing about how he feels in relation to anything. It’s nothing about the want that simmers under the surface despite his guilt.

Jaskier’s brows scrunch in a way that would be endearing if the entire ordeal didn’t feel so fraught already. “I don’t think I follow. I mean, I know having a conversation isn’t your usual wheelhouse, but it’s not exactly a foreign concept.”

“Not. That.” Geralt bites the words out, tight and clipped while he gathers his frayed nerves enough to explain. “You’re not in the habit of keeping people. I don’t know what you want.”

For just a second, Jaskier looks like he’s been struck and Geralt wants desperately to take the whole thing back. But the bard’s expression smooths out and then twists up in a wry smile. “Of course I don’t. What would I even do? Drag someone else along on our travels?”

There’s a point Jaskier is making. It’s right there. He knows it is, but it eludes Geralt anyway. “You could have stayed somewhere if there was someone you wanted to stick around for.”

Jaskier laughs, just a giggle at first, and then so hard that even his efforts to bury his face against Geralt’s shoulder do nothing to stifle it. “You are absolutely right. I could fall completely and utterly in love with someone and choose to stick around.”

“I don’t see how that’s funny,” Geralt says flatly, staring at the far wall of their room. The urge to curl around Jaskier and forget the whole stupid conversation in strong, and maybe he’d have been better off doing that in the first place, but he doesn’t surrender to it.

“Well, you’re one of the smartest people I know, so these moments where you decide to be an absolute idiot happen to be hilarious,” Jaskier teases. The bard must take pity, because his palm slides to cradle Geralt’s jaw, and Jaskier puts himself right at eye level where the witcher can’t look away. “Don’t you realize? I fell in love with someone, and I chose to stick around. It happened ages ago.”

Geralt has long since given up on trying to anticipate what Jaskier will say to any given prompt, but that is… somehow not even on the same continent as anything he might have expected. “What?”

“You really are determined to make this as difficult and stressful for me as possible, aren’t you?” Jaskier asks. There’s a tightness around his eyes when he looks at Geralt, leaving the witcher with the awful realization that Jaskier must be flying as blind as he is. He’s probably as unsure of Geralt’s intent as Geralt is of his. And yet… “I chose you, you ridiculous man. I always choose you.”

That… that explains a lot, actually. Geralt swallows thickly as Jaskier’s nose bumps against his. “Why didn’t you ever say?”

“Ah yes. ‘Hello my very dear emotionally… hampered witcher who will sometimes, on a very good day, admit that we are friends. Would it it complicate things overly much if I also happened to be completely, utterly in love with you?’” Jaskier huffs out a helpless, almost panicky sort of laugh. “Tell me Geralt, is there any time in the last few years where that would have gone well?”

Years? Now, confronted with the full force of it, Geralt isn’t sure how he even missed it last night, let alone for so long. Now that he knows it’s always been a bit painfully obvious. And much as he’d like to, he can’t really argue against Jaskier’s point that it probably wouldn’t have gone well to say so. “What changed?”

Jaskier sighs in that dramatic, overdone way he tends to when he’s being asked what he thinks is an exceedingly silly question. “You did.”

“Hmm.” Geralt doesn’t comment and Jaskier doesn’t press for further conversation. It’s peaceful, this thing blossoming between them, now that his most immediate concerns have been silenced.

That Jaskier laid his heart on the line and asked for nothing back isn’t lost on Geralt though. The words catch and stick on his throat, so Geralt writes them into the tender way he traces the curve of Jaskier’s spine with his fingertips. He presses them against Jaskier’s lips, jaw, throat with lazy, lingering kisses.

“So tell me-” Jaskier starts, the words interrupted by a soft sigh as Geralt’s thumb skims the divot of his hip. It’s an unmistakably promising sound all by itself, even ignoring that delightful way Jaskier presses into the touch. He finishes his thought, but it’s unmistakably breathless. “What are you thinking now?”

The recognition that this isn’t some fluke settles warmly around him. This could be always. There are so few things a witcher really keeps, but for now he’s willing to entertain the notion that this might be one of them.

“I’m thinking…” Geralt mumbles against the side of Jaskier’s neck, delighting in the way the bard’s fingers tangle in his hair and tug. “That maybe we’ll leave tomorrow.”

#geralt of rivia #Jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #gerlion #the witcher #my fic #They're both dumb and I love them #They may not have been remotely related to what I meant to write this month #But hey I posted stuff three days in a row and it's not even Nano month yet

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