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sjyuns · 1 year

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WAY BACK HOME ┆ A SIM JAEYUN ONESHOT

BREAKING NEWS! the friendly neighbourhood superhero spider-man has been caught trying to swing into a girl’s heart — but why is he failing miserably?! is this the spider-man we all know and love? or has our hero lost his spark?

or in which sim jaeyun asks you, his best friend out, forgetting that he was still in his spider-man suit.

GENRE! best friends to lovers, mutual pining, extremely groundbreaking embarrassing pick up lines, my missed hit at being a comdeian, jaeyun being jaeyun ( ie a hot loser ),

CAUTION! idiots in love, two timing ( but they’re the same person ), kissing, love, mentions of weapons and fighting crime, bad pickup lines, embarrassment for sim jaeyun, both reader and jaeyun are nineteen in this fic

WORDCOUNT! 5100

MIKAELA’S! hey everyone, this is the first ever oneshot i’m posting on my shiny new blog! please feel free to leave feedback through reblogs or asks! hope you enjoy jake embarrassing the soul out of himself🫶 i love sim jaeyun so much ( too much it’s embarrassing tbh ) this is the last of my old drafts, sorry for the spam!

playlist ⟡ way back home — shaun ⟡ forever only — jaehyun ⟡ pov — ariana grande ⟡ daylight — taylor swift

i. with great power comes a platter of hot embarrassment

“With great power comes great responsibility,” is what Spider-Man once said in an interview with The Daily Times, the most widely read newspaper company in all of Seoul.

It’s so out of character of Sim Jaeyun that he himself wonders what exactly went through his mind at that given time to blurt out such a philosophical quote — especially when he was having the bad urge to take a piss at that very moment.

But whatever it was: he needs it to return now, because he’s standing in front of you, his best friend, and he thinks that now's the chance; to finally ask you out after saving you.

Unfortunately Sim Jaeyun is out of luck, like he always is with you, because nothing but five utterly embarrassing words come out of his mouth.

“You tingle my spidey senses.”

You choke back a laugh as you stare at the masked superhero, amused at his sudden pick-me-up. “Are you rizzing me up, mister friendly neighbourhood hero?”

It seems like too much thinking has altered the already broken thought process in Sim Jaeyun’s brain, because it is only now that he registers that he’s still in his Spider-Man suit, and you don’t have a single clue that he’s Spider-Man.

“Uh, I mean-” but he’s cut off by the roaring cheer of the gathered public, who have their phones out and recording.

“Don’t back down, Spider-Man,” a citizen calls out, and Jaeyun thinks it’s far too late to back out now, because not only will it crush his ego, you might think Spider-Man isn’t as cool as he seemed to be.

“Would you let me swing into your heart- I mean, could we” he pauses, “could we hang out sometime?”

You smile, and it makes Jaeyun frown slightly under his mask, because he knows that smile — it’s the polite one, the one you use in a slightly uncomfortable situation, as if you didn’t want to embarrass the popular superhero standing in front of you at the moment.

“Sure,” you grin, pearly whites on display, “could I bring my best friend Jaeyun though? He’s a big fan.” It’s him, he thinks, he’s the Jaeyun you’re talking about. And his heart skips a beat at your thoughtful action.

“Okay! Tomorrow, here, five in the evening,” he says in excitement without a second thought. You’ve just agreed to go out on a date with him, and he’s too drunk in love to think about how he’s going to meet you as Spider-Man without telling you his identity.

He shoots a web up and swings after shouting an elated “see you, yn,” in the air. All too caught up in you to realise the three critical mistakes he’d made.

ONE. He never asked for your name as Spider-Man

TWO. There’s no way he could ever go on a date with his suit on in public

THREE. How in the fucking world is he going to a date with you as both Spider-Man and Sim Jaeyun?

Sim Jaeyun spends the whole night twisting and turning in his bed, mind in a flurry as he tries to think of the smartest way to solve these problems.

And it doesn’t help him when his phone pings with a new message from you.

Guess who just bagged us a hang out with Spider-Man tomorrow!

Don’t wear that Spider-Man suit or I swear to god I will not bring you to see him.

He sighs as he presses hard on the power button of his phone, staring blanking at the black screen. Fuck power or responsibility, he thinks, all he wants is his best friend’s heart, is that too much to ask for?

ii. man up, spidey-boy!

“BREAKING NEWS! Spider-Man spotted trying to swing into a girl’s — who supposedly goes by the name yn, heart. And after failing miserably at the first try, he succeeded on the second. Spidey may be a hero who saves lives, but it seems like he might have to take up what youngster’s call ‘rizz’ classes.”

The wide billboard screen casts a video taken by a bystander as the announcer's voice blared into the main junction of the city.

Jaeyun groans as he hangs his head low, adjusting the baseball cap perched on top of his head to cover his face. Not like anyone knew he was Spider-Man, no, but it was just far too embarrassing for him.

He hears you before he sees you, your voice is illegally sweet as it causes a smile to appear on his face amidst all of the stress. “Jaeyun!” You call, “you’re unusually late,” and Jaeyun groans, blaming it on the lack of sleep he had gotten last night, “Spider-Man isn’t here yet.”

Right, Spider-Man. Jaeyun still hasn’t found a solution to that.

His suit is tucked safely in the bottom of his bag, just in case. But for now, Jaeyun thinks it’s a better decision to disappoint you as Spider-Man instead of as your best friend. Besides, he hasn’t missed a single hang out session with you, and he isn’t ever planning to.

“Do you think he’s actually going to come?” You ask, head tilting in question and eyes soft, and Jaeyun wonders if he actually underestimated how much you liked Spider-Man, misunderstood that seemingly polite smile you gave him yesterday — should he have came as Spider-Man instead?

“Uhm,” he pauses, hesitant to squash your expectations, “how about we go first? I’m sure Spider-Man will swing by, it seems like he likes you a lot.” And even though he was talking about himself, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy bubbling in him at the thought of another boy liking you.

“Right,” you say, giving him a smile that makes his heart melt, “I guess it’s just us, like it always is.” Your fingers wrap around his, “I like it like this.” You mutter softly, yet in the buzz of the city square, Jaeyun catches the whisper of your voice, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“Plus, if I ever need, you can be my Spider-Man — whip out that fake suit of yours. You have his physique anyway, and your pick up lines are just as idiotic as his. Maybe even more idiotic.”

Jaeyun lets out a loud laugh, one that’s of melodious dreams, and it causes a few pedestrians to stare but he doesn’t care, not when you’re next to him, asking him to be your very own Spider-Man. And he agrees immediately, all too ready to put on the ‘fake’ red and blue suit just for you.

He’s a little amused that you still believe that he’s a hardcore fan of Spider-Man, because the only time you’ve caught him wearing that very suit was two years ago, when you coincidentally entered his room to see him in a Spider-Man suit without a mask.

And he still remembers your accusations of him being a fanboy, asking him if dressing up as his idol was what he did in his free time. Jaeyun was way too flustered to even explain himself, and letting you know that he was the real Spider-Man never even crossed his mind as he bashfully nodded to your words.

But it wasn’t like you ever laughed at him about it, though you did tease him. You would still buy him different types of Spider-Man merchandise, ranging from Spider-Man socks to a custom Spider-Man mug with the words ‘Spider-Man loves Jaeyun’ in bold red.

With every gift given, came an opportunity to reveal his identity. Yet Sim Jaeyun never seizes it, he refuses to, because he finds it so endearing — the way you have the proudest smile on your face as you give him merchandise of himself that he has never seen before, the way you send him a picture of every single Spider-Man related thing you see on the streets.

“Right,” he nods as he gazes adoringly at you, “forget the real Spider-Man, I’ll swing into your heart.” And the giggle you let out once again makes his knees weak — he thinks the smile plastered on your face is much more genuine than the one he saw yesterday.

And he wants to kiss you so bad, tell you exactly how much he likes you, loves you. This familiar feeling that has settled comfortably at the bottom of his heart and back of his mind for the past four years, has only grown and never dwindled. It was times like this, where he didn’t feel the burden of having to be alert about ongoing crime.

Only with you can he feel like Sim Jaeyun — a lovesick nineteen year old and not Spider-Man, the hero of Seoul.

“Jaeyun, what do you want to do first?” You ask, pulling him through the blaring fun of the amusement park. He hums, following behind your excited figure, letting you choose what you wanted to do. “Oh my god, look it’s a Spider-Man toy.”

You halt in your step and immediately turn towards him, eyes sparkling. “Do you want it Jaeyun? I’ll get it for you. Just so you aren’t too sad that Spider-Man ghosted us today.”

He scoffs, as he examines the booth. It’s a shooting game, and he knows that you suck at shooting. “You sure, love? From what I remember, you aren’t too good at shooting games,” he brings up and you shoot him a sharp glare before pestering him to pay the vendor.

You end up blaming your best friend for jinxing you, “Yun, if you never said that, I could have shot them all down,” you complain, eyes morphing into slits as you pinpoint the blame on him. Jaeyun raises his two hands in innocence, face displaying an expression of shock, “I didn’t even say anything wrong, plus you barely hit one out of five balloons.”

You groan, shushing him in embarrassment, “If you’re such a professional, win it for me then,” you challenge him. Jaeyun shrugs, it’ll be easy — all those years of shooting webs has made him extremely sharp, so he manages to shoot all the five balloons without any effort, snagging the coveted Spider-Man doll.

“You sure you don’t want it, Yun?” you question, “add it to your collection as a fanboy.” He shakes his head, handing you the plush toy, “I won it for you. Plus, I like the ones you gave me more.”

It overwhelms you, the stark sincerity in his voice. And you feel the sudden need to kiss him, not like you’ve never thought of it before (more like you’ve thought about it too much), because Sim Jaeyun with his bright personality and handsome face is far too good to be real.

But you can’t bring yourself to be that direct, so you settle for a kiss on the cheek. A quick movement and a short peck before you let out a loud giggle, walking over to the next booth with a stupid smile plastered on your face, leaving Jaeyun in shock and awe — eyes wide and mouth agape before he bites back a smile.

He thinks it’s too hard to conceal his feelings any longer; that he has to tell you soon, next week, tomorrow, or maybe even now. And he feels the three words, eight letters, at the tip of his tongue.

As always, though, he swallows them back down, throat dry as he stares at you. The fear of rejection far too intense for him to handle.

How ironic, that Sim Jaeyun could fight criminals with equipped daggers that could kill him in one swift motion, yet he could not say three simple words to a girl who has pierced his heart and filled his stomach with butterflies.

iii. in a sticky predicament

“Now on to our very own Spider-Man’s upcoming love story that seems to be wilting by the looks of it — Spidey, in fact, did not show up to his date with yn, who was seen with another boy at the amusement park. Our very own hero is facing multiple accusations that he may be, like his representative colour, a red flag. However, a minority of fans have brought up a speculation; that the boy we call Spider-Man, might be the very boy accompanying yn yesterday unmasked. That’s all for Spider-Man, here on The Daily News.”

“Don’t you think that’s insane Jaeyun?” you laugh, throwing your head back into the soft pillow on his bed, “they think you’re Spider-Man.”

“Right,” he trails on, arms crossed as he leans on the doorframe, “that’s so impossible.”

His laugh awkward as his fingers find themselves combing through his hair for the nth time. And you turn your head, looking at him with suspicion. Right, that’d be crazy, insane maybe, you think, because Sim Jaeyun was well — him. He’s slightly awkward, likes physics, and hell he’s scared of bugs, so it’ll be mind blowing if he ever was the real Spider-Man.

But impossible, you think, might not be true. And you sit up on the edge of the bed, eyes trained on him. Same physique, similar height, he’s athletic, and he shoots well. Plus, from your ever so short encounter with Spider-Man saving you from getting your wallet stolen, Spider-Man is just as awkward as your best friend.

Could he really be Spider-Man? But he’s a fan of Spider-Man, wouldn’t it be weird if he was such a big fan of himself. Still, you couldn’t rule out the possibility.

“Jump,” you instruct, “hang upside down on the walls.” Jake is shocked, as his heart accelerates in nervousness at the thought of being found out.

“Don’t be weird,” he groans, trying to keep calm, “that’s literally humanly impossible.” His mind racing, finding a way to get out of this sticky situation, because as much as he wants to tell you his identity, the last way he wanted you to find out was through the internet. Also, maybe because you looked slightly angry, with your eyebrows furrowed and hands on your head, and Jaeyun didn’t want you to be mad at him.

You were deep in thought, was that why Spider-Man didn’t show up yesterday — because he is actually Sim Jaeyun, and he couldn’t be there as two different people.

That might be a stretch, but it isn’t an impossible scenario. You tilt your head, quickly grabbing the pillow you were just lying on, throwing it at him, “catch.”

He catches it easily, with one hand even, as his face contorts into an expression of surprise. “Don’t scare me like that, love,” he says. But you’re too flabbergasted at the fast reflexes of your best friend to even comprehend his complaint.

“You could really give Spider-Man a run for his money, you know?” you chuckle, as you tell yourself that no matter how much it might fit, it’s probably just a coincidence, “put on that suit of yours and fight crime.” It was all a coincidence, right?

“What if I’m scared of getting hurt,” he pouts, and you snort. With Sim Jaeyun’s level of cowardice, there’s no way he could ever be out there fighting.

“Then I’ll protect you,” you say, “I’ll be your sidekick, all you have to do is stand there and look pretty.”

He grins, walking over to stand in front of you; hands moving to ruffle your hair. “Okay love, you lead, I’ll follow.”

iv. tell him to grow a pair

Your newfound popularity brings you more drawbacks than benefits — by that you mean the sudden fury of boys approaching you to ask for your number. It annoys Jaeyun more than it does you, as your best friend flaunts a new irritated look that you’ve rarely seen.

“That’s the sixth fucking boy,” he grumbles, eyes rolling before he glares at the fleeting figure of Lee Heeseung, the boy who just asked you for your number, the boy who Jaeyun lashed out at.

“Be kind, Yun,” you chuckle, amused at your best friend’s sudden grumpiness, “I mean, I’ve never lashed out at any of the girl’s who ask you out.”

“No one has asked me out.” he groans, “are you flaunting right now?”

“Yes I am,” you reply, “don’t worry Jaeyun, you’ll always be my loser.”

He lets out a loud exaggerated sigh as he rolls his eyes, leaning against the locker as he grits his teeth in exasperation.

You wonder why no girl has ever hit Sim Jaeyun up. Granted, he wasn’t the best looking guy back in middle school with his choice of brightly coloured clothes that blinded eyes, but you think that was part of the appeal — how awkwardly adorable he was. Now, with his upgraded fashion style and bubbly personality, it’s a miracle no one has tried their shot at bagging him. Not that you wanted anyone to.

Sim Jaeyun is yours, just as much as you are his.

And he thinks the exact same. Despite what you think, he has had a girl approach him, professing his love only to get turned down by his puppy-like smile and his confession that he liked you.

Though his body exudes jealousy, there's a slight bit of relief at the fact that you turned all six of the boys down, telling them that you had a crush on someone else. He hopes, prays, begs that the person you think about is him. He furiously looks for a sign, because he’s tired of all this, and he needs a sign from you before he can courageously make the first move.

After school, the both of you walk down the buzzing streets with carts of street food lined up along the roadside. Your fingers bunching the fabric of Jaeyun’s shirt as he navigates the both of you through the crowded streets, making a beeline for his favourite churros shop.

“I told you the queue would be long, it’s Friday night,” you whine, mentally counting the number of people in front of you. Fifteen, that’ll take a while. “We should have just ordered in pizza and binge on Netflix shows.”

“Fine, we can eat churros another day,” Jaeyun pouts and you curse yourself for saying that even when you knew he wanted to eat churros.

“It’s fine, we can stay, since we’re already here.” You stop him, pulling him back beside you in the queue, “but you can’t leave to do something else like last time, you have to wait with me.”

The glow on his face coupled with the adorable smile on his lips makes you stare in awe. And you think Sim Jaeyun is so pretty and handsome all at once it’s a crime to look as good as him. His lips, god, they look so kissable and soft, you wish you could kiss them at any given time — now, tomorrow, forever.

But the moment doesn’t last long, as faint screams and shouts travel from a small corner shop down the road. “Thief, there’s a thief on the run.”

You watch as Jaeyun’s eyes widen, body in a sudden scramble, “uhm, I’m gonna go to the toilet for a moment,” he says amidst the whispers of the crowd, “stomach ache, you know.” Running off before you can give him a reply, brushing past people hurriedly into a random narrow street.

You shrug it off again because it isn’t the first time Jaeyun has acted out of character. However, you can’t help but realise it was always when there was crime.

The questions and suspicions floating around your head for the past week resurface as you focus on the narrow street your best friend had disappeared into.

Oh my god.

You blink profusely, pinch yourself, and rub your eyes because this is mind blowing information. You can’t seem to believe an ounce of what your eyes have just seen. Was that Spider-Man who just swung out of the very same alleyway?

Sim Jaeyun is Spider-Man. And your conclusion only seems to solidify as you hear the muffled voice coming out of his masked persona.

“Oops, sorry,” and a careless swing as he tries his best to manoeuvre through the crowd, accidentally knocking over a little girl’s ice cream cone, “I'm sorry, please don’t cry.”

Yup, that’s Jaeyun. His voice now so familiar you hit yourself in the head for not realising sooner. And his utterly helpless tone as he tries to soothe the little girl — you could recognise it from a mile away.

“I’ll get you a new one, I’m sorry,” he shouts as he spins his web and shoots again, lamppost to windows to signboards before effortlessly catching up with the thief; who was now bound to the wall by web.

“Sorry,” he groans for the fourth time in a matter of minutes, “it’s my job — i mean, not that you deserve to get away no, i just-” he rambles and you giggle at his comment. Seems like Sim Jaeyun will never change, even as a superhero or as your best friend.

“I meant to say, justice has been served,” he nods, seemingly proud of his awkward catchphrase that you were sure he stole from the superhero movie you watched with him a few weeks back. “I have to get back now, someone awaits me you know - i mean, no- I’m not supposed to give details of my personal life. I’ll just- stop talking… yeah.”

And you watch again as he swings back down the street. With his identity revealed, you can’t help but look up to Jaeyun even more now — a top student and a superhero? How unfair the world is. How lucky you were to have him as your best friend.

“Hey! Aren’t you yn? Spider-Man, is that your girl?” You shrink, head down as you fix your gaze on the floor immediately, cheeks a rosy red. God, you think, this is a little embarrassing.

You feel his presence before you see his shadow morphing with yours on the floor, “hey yn,” and you look up to see the superhero, who’s panting ever so slightly, stand in front of you in his glory. “Sorry about last week, I was well busy, and I know it isn’t any-”

“It’s fine,” you stop him from blabbering, a toothy grin plastered on your face. And Jaeyun feels proud, maybe him saving someone has put Spider-Man back into your good graces, maybe he has a chance with you as Spider-Man.

“I had fun with my crush at the amusement park. Actually, thank you for the opportunity, I kissed his cheek for the first time and it felt like heaven.”

He pauses, and Jaeyun wants to rip off his mask at the very moment to kiss you. You liked him back, fuck, you actually liked him back.

“Ah,” he says after a while of tense silence, his hands rubbing the nape of his neck, “that’s amazing. So- do you… I mean- so you’re like, in love with him? Wait love might be a little uhm-”

“Yeah, I’m in love with him.”

Time stops as your eyes pierce into his, and he can swear at this moment that you knew exactly who he was. He thinks it’s over, and he can finally ask you to be his — because he’s hellbent on loving you, for the past four years he has been.

“Seems like this crush of yours needs to step up his game, or I might just steal you away,” he remarks lightheartedly, uncaring of the sea of cameras pointing towards the both of you.

“Yeah, it seems like he does. Maybe you should visit him one day, tell him that it’s about time to man up, or I’ll be the one asking for his hand.” You shoot a knowing glance at him, a confident smirk on your face.

Jaeyun chuckles, “right, I’ll be sure to tell him that, wouldn’t want him to lose such a special girl.”

“Thanks Spidey, I wonder what I’d ever do without you,” you laugh, patting his suited shoulder before he once again swings away into the narrow alleyway, only to appear minutes later donned in his usual faded ripped jeans and white shirt, hair tousled and smile wide as he runs back to you.

And he’s before you all again, this time as your best friend and you swoon as his adoring eyes and elated smile. “You okay?” You ask, hand raising to fix his hair.

“I couldn’t be better.”

v. Batman vs Spider-Man, a battle of the mans

“Spider-Man should now change his name into wing man as he is spotted once again, engaging in conversation with the very same yn from last week. Spider-Man was not only ruthlessly dumped by her, but was also asked to quote on quote visit her crush to ask him to grow a pair. Seems like she is off the market for our poor lonely superhero, who can’t seem to catch anyone except for criminals. That’s all for Spider-Man, here on The Daily News.”

“Seems like you can’t catch a break, huh Yun?” You point out as you switch the television off, “not only defamed into a wing man but also asked to grow a pair.”

And it seems like he really can’t because ever since you confronted him about being Spider-Man, his days have been filled with even more ruthless teasing, and weird questions.

“How do you even piss as Spider-Man?”

“Can I swing from building to building?”

“Can you hang upside down for ten minutes?”

“How do you think you would fare against Batman in a fight?”

But there’s one unasked question still hanging in the air. And Jaeyun really wants to address it, but it seems like you’ve lost your confidence by the way the flesh of your cheeks heats an angry red at any slight hint of him being your crush — or as Jaeyun would like to call himself; your soon to be boyfriend.

“I’ve grown a pair,” he says, shifting towards you, eyes trained on yours, “seems like someone has lost a pair.”

“Have not” you argue, lies — you could barely look at Jaeyun now without a lovesick smile on your face. Neither could you muster up the courage to ask him to be your boyfriend. “And if you ever grew a pair, you would have asked.”

“Ask what?” He teases, face moving closer to yours. He looks too good, godly almost, with his black rimmed glasses perched at the bridge of his nose.

You pout, furrowing your eyebrows as you place a light slap on the middle of his chest. And he lets out a low chuckle, the vibrant sun rays flush through the sheer day curtains of Jaeyun’s room, a natural spotlight glowing on the both of you.

“Fine,” he whispers, and you can feel his breath on your lips, it’s warm and inviting and you feel yourself leaning into him. “Will you be my girlfriend, love?”

You barely nod your head before he attaches his lips on yours. And you think you’re going to be obsessed with Sim Jaeyun — your fingers find their way through his hair and he sighs. It’s like he’s imprinted in your heart and you want to kiss him again and again and again.

Sim Jaeyun with pretty eyes, pretty lips, a pretty face, a pretty being, breaks the kiss only to kiss you again and again as you wish.

“Did I swing into your heart, love?” He smirks as you playfully roll your eyes at his antics. “Are we not going to bring up the time when you fell after showing me your web skills?”

He tackles you down and you giggle, “I can fall from the sky, I can fall from a tree, but the best way to fall is to fall in love with you.” He grins idiotically before racing out the door as you cringe at yet another bad pick up line from him.

“Sim Jaeyun, are you kidding me? I wonder how you even make up quotes like ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ with that mind of yours.”

“What mind? You mean my mind — the place where you always are?”

You groan in fake disgust as you watch your boyfriend (boyfriend!) smile proudly at his idiotic pick up lines. The both of you drinking sunlight as if it’s love — where he’s all yours and you’re all his.

uncut. confessions i can’t make ( a crumpled confession letter written by a sixteen year old sim jaeyun )

hi dear yn,

i like you. it’s been a while since you took my breath away we first met. this is my first time ever writing a confession so i don’t really know what to say write… i guess it’s like writing physics notes so maybe it wouldn’t be too hard i hope

chapter one part one : what i like about you

i like the way you smile laugh, how your eyes turn into the tiniest of crescents, it makes me proud of the jokes i crack (that physics joke was good was it not). i like the feeling i have around you — it’s warm and fuzzy, natural — talking everyday without any forceful conversation, laughs or attention.

part two : why you should like me

i think you should like me because i like you. i think you should like me because i’m smart! i can help you with physics and maths. i don’t really know what else i can give you but i’ll try my best to make you smile everyday.

will you be my girlfriend? Oh god, this is so weird i actually like you a lot and

(a bunch of scribbling)

forget it. you’ll never like me back.

dear mister sim jaeyun,

after three hours of fighting for my life, i have finally gotten my hands on the most treasured item of the year, a sixteen year old you’s crumpled confession letter to me. and since you wrote it in a physics notes style like a loser, as your girlfriend i have no choice but to follow you (so that you don’t feel lonely)

one. what i like about you

everything. i like your hair, i like your face. I like the way you say sorry to every single person in the neighbourhood while courageously saving them. i like your pick up lines on some days and how you have the guts to challenge Batman to a fight when i proclaim him as my favourite hero. i like the way you laugh and i like the way you smile. i am especially enchanted by your kicked puppy ways and easily manipulated demeanour where i can always get what i want without question.

two. why you should like me

i’m your girlfriend and you’re my girlfriend. (you are my girlfriend) you should stop staring at me with those eyes, it gives me the ick (i meant that in a ‘whatever you say pretty boy’ kind of way) you should like me because i am the person who likes you the most. (i love you so much)

will i be your girlfriend? obviously i will, i mean who can say no to you.

love you babe,

spider-man’s (your) hot sidekick

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eideticboywonder · 28 days

Text

─── ̩̩͙✩ sweet like honey, part i ; steve harrington

summary — all it took was a smile from you to bring steve harrington to his knees.

pairing — fem!reader x steve harrington

warning(s) — use of she/her pronouns, love at first sight, lovestruck steve, just sweet fluff :)

word count — 2,312

The interaction only lasted mere seconds, but Steve had every single detail forever ingrained in his mind.

It was a dreary morning, unusually chilly for early summer. The newly opened Starcourt Mall, not yet abuzz with the newly released children and teens of Hawkins, echoed with the rain beating against the glass roof. Steve, who’d just rushed in from his car donning only the ridiculous navy Scoops Ahoy uniform, ran his hand through his once perfectly styled hair, now slightly undone by the wetness in an attempt to fix it. He flicked droplets from his arms as he walked toward the ice cream shop, muttering in irritation under his breath as he went.

That is, until he felt a light hand on his back and turned to find you behind him. He stopped cold, every drop of annoyance previously flooding his system vanishing. The world around the two of you dulled, every person, each sound fading away until there was only you.

You had been wearing the dark maroon vest of your movie theater work attire and black formal pants that hugged the curves of you just right. Even with your hair pulled back, damp from the weather, the coconut of your shampoo married with the vanilla of your perfume infiltrated his senses.

“Sorry, I just—” Your voice dripped with a honey so sweet, so hypnotic Steve’s brain momentarily short circuited. He couldn’t even register his keys in your grasp, he was too focused on your eyes; he didn’t know it was possible for eyes to be that beautiful until he’d looked into yours. “You dropped these.”

The shy smile gracing your lips made his heart skip, then leap into his throat when your fingers grazed his as you handed him his keys. Your touch was warm against the chill in the air, and he hoped the flush rising in his cheeks could be disguised by the crisp temperature.

Realizing he hadn’t yet spoken a word, Steve finally managed to get out a “Thanks.” before you offered one last knee weakening smile and brushed past him, presumably continuing on your way to the theater.

He stood there for a second with his hand still held out, his brain slowly thawing. By the time he’d finished buffering and turned to call after you and ask your name, you were already too far to go after without looking like a creep.

That was it. The “king” of Hawkins High brought down by a smile and six quiet words.

Steve told himself he’d go find you on his break, properly thank you and at least get your name (which he had no doubt would become his favorite the second he learned it). But when his break came, he made it no further than the threshold into Scoops before his stomach quickly filled with anxious butterflies, preventing him from going any further.

Robin, of course, didn't miss the chance to give him shit about it. “You all there, Harrington? You look like you're gonna yack all over my clean floor.”

He rolled his eyes, dropping into one of the cold metal chairs. “I’m fine, your precious floor is safe.”

Her brows furrowed, leaning over the window separating the break room from the front of the store. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? You haven’t been nearly as annoying as you usually are. It’s kinda freaking me out.”

“First of all, thanks for that.”

“You're very welcome.”

Steve gave a pointed glare, not even bothering to lift his arm from the table as he offers a lazy middle finger with a tight quirk of his lips. “Second of all, I said I’m fine, alright? I’m totally, one hundred percent fine.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that was just so very convincing, Harrington. If you ever had any aspirations to go into acting, I’d give up and stick to slinging ice cream.”

His second attempt occurred that day after Steve’s shift, even made it all the way to the theater this time. However, as soon as his eyes found you behind the counter helping a mother and her daughter, the warmth emanating from that damn smile of yours turned his legs into jelly, effectively putting an end to his movements. His mouth felt dry, whatever words he’d previously been able to come up with dissipating completely as he became helpless to do anything but stare.

Then, just as you’d finished handing the little girl her popcorn, your head began to turn in his direction, triggering his legs to finally move once more… but in the opposite direction.

What the hell was wrong with him? Getting tongue tied over a girl? Steve Harrington always knows what to say, the perfect line or simple look to turn women into putty in his hands. And yet, somehow, you’d achieved the impossible by simply existing.

In the days that followed, in addition to work, Steve suddenly saw you everywhere, his subconscious seeking you at every turn.

At the arcade the following night when he dropped the kids at Dustin’s insistence. You’d been coming out as they went in, laughing with another girl, arms linked; your hair flowed freely this time, dressed casually in jeans and a hoodie that looked a little too big, unencumbered by workplace regulations. Even in the dim light from the arcade, your smile pulled Steve in. Your laugh, light and contagious, quickened his pulse and sent pleasant goosebumps down his spine. (He didn’t know it then but he’d spend the rest of his life trying to elicit that angelic sound from you as often as he could.)

The community pool for the official summer opening that weekend. Steve had to work that day, so he didn’t arrive until the late afternoon. Whereas you’d been there almost all day to appease your best friend’s desire to ogle the lifeguards, so by the time he arrived the several sun exposure and energy spent in the water had you drained.

This time, Steve came across you passed out alone in one of the reclining pool chairs on his way to the bathroom. You were positioned laying on your side, curled into yourself with your wrist tucked under your chin. A bright pink and blue beach towel was draped over your not completely covered body, contouring to your shape. Your brow is creased, a slight frown pulling on your lips. He mirrored it, wondering what could be troubling that beautiful head of yours. A breeze blows over you then, making you shiver a little and shift, which reveals the top of your white bikini peeking from under the towel.

A deep crimson that worsened as you adjusted again spread across his flustered face, eyes wide and lips parted, and immediately averted his gaze out of respect. Steve’s eyes land on one of the white towels provided by the pool sprawled across the empty chair to the left of you. He grabbed it, feeling the residual heat from the sun before leaning forward to place it over you as added protection and warmth.

Once you were covered anew, your still sleeping face relaxes; brows unfurrow, frown receding to a more peaceful appearance. He was helpless to the soft smile that took hold as he observed you, so enchanting even unconscious. Then, before he can start to feel too much like a creep, Steve continued on his original path to the locker rooms, throwing one last glance over his shoulder.

Then again, a few days later at the grocery store. Steve’s father, as a part of the whole “teaching him to be responsible” thing after not being accepted into a college, told him he needed to learn how to shop for himself with the money earned from Scoops instead of relying on his mother. He was standing in the frozen aisle, surveying his pizza options when he heard it— that voice dripping in honey he knew could only belong to you.

“Come on, we’ve been working hard all week. We deserve a sweet treat, I refuse to take no for an answer.”

His eyes snapped in the direction it came from and landed on you at the opposite end of the aisle where the ice cream was displayed. You stood with your arms hugging yourself, the t-shirt you wore clearly not enough to shield you from the chill coming off the freezers. You craned your neck to look at the options on the upper shelves, chewing at the corner of your bottom lip in thought. Too entranced by the sight of you, Steve didn’t notice the guy with you until you pointed at something out of your reach and he opened the freezer to grab it for you. You smiled at him in thanks as he handed you the pint of ice cream, and a tinge of disappointment pinged at Steve’s chest.

Shaking his head, Steve grabbed a random box to throw in his cart, turned and walked away as he pushed the feeling aside. He had no reason to be jealous— he didn’t even know your name yet.

Even still, whenever he went back to work, he found himself frequently glancing up and out from behind the ice cream counter or as he wiped tables. Each time he caught a glimpse of you effecting him all the same. Until one night you’d looked over as he was sweeping through the lobby at closing, gaze locking with his. Recognizing him as the cute, shy guy you’d helped the week prior (and have noticed numerous times since), you flashed him a smile and offered a small wave.

He wasn’t ready for this— heat crept into his face, tinting it an adorable shade of pink, which only deepened when he tripped over the broom he was holding, sending the dustpan beside it and its contents sprawling. Just great.

You giggle, finding the whole thing endearing, covering your grin with your hand as you approach him. “Are you okay?”

Steve does his best to avoid your eyes, knowing it would further the embarrassment and complicate his ability to think coherently. “I mean, if you classify my apparent inability to walk and operate a broom at the same time as ‘okay’, I’m doing fantastic.”

“I don’t know, I think walking and sweeping is a pretty tough skill to learn and yet, you just made it look so easy.”

“Ha ha,” He rolls his eyes, his sarcasm playful. “You're a real comedian.”

“Why, thank you for noticing, uh…” You trail off, becoming aware you're missing a key piece of information. “I actually didn’t catch your name the other day, I was in such a rush. You know, with the keys, and the rain.”

He finally lifts his eyes from the the cleaning supplies in hand to meet yours, the now all too familiar sensation of butterflies and brain fog washing over him. “Trust me, I remember.”

Little does he know the honey brown warmth in his are having the same effect on you, your breath hitching in your throat and pulse racing. The corners of your mouth instinctively curl as you look up at him, admiring the scattered moles adorning his beautiful face, the way his shaggy hair falls just so against his forehead. Your eyes trace a path from his pink lips back up to his, a shiver travelling down your spine at the way he’s looking at you; no one has ever looked at you this way, like you’re the most precious thing they’ve ever seen.

It’s then that Steve seems to realize he hasn’t responded to your original inquiry. “Oh, um, Steve. Steve is my name, by the way. Since you… asked.”

“Well, Steve,” His name has never sounded so melodic coming from anyone else’s lips. “It’s nice to finally be able to put a name to my accidental stalker.”

“Oh, I wasn’t—”

“Relax,” Your brief touch on his forearm meant to be an act of assurance lights his skin on fire. “It’s not like there are that many places to go in Hawkins. There’s bound to be some overlap.”

“Actually, I was thinking Hawkins must be bigger than I thought if I never noticed you before.”

“You know what they say. ‘Sometimes you never really know what you’re missing until it’s right in front of you’, right?” The eye contact holds for a silent beat, the air crackling. Neither of you are aware the same delicate expression of adoration on your face is reflected in the other’s, shown in the near identical adoring grins faintly toying on your lips. Your eyes catch the clock hanging on the wall behind him, trying not to let your disappointment at the time show too much as you start to back away. “Shit, I have to go. My ride’s waiting. To be continued.”

“Wait,” You pause, facing him just outside the store; he almost forgets what he was going to ask as his eyes meet yours again. “Do I get to know your name?”

“A week hasn’t been long enough, stalker?” The mischievous glint in your eye paired with your teasing tone and amused grin feels like you’ve known each other a lifetime, warm and familiar, and he wants to stay in it forever. “When you finally do find it, let me know. Just don’t take too long because I might have a new, more motivated stalker to take your place by then.”

Then you’re gone, leaving Steve reeling in the remnants of coconut and vanilla tainted with popcorn left behind. He’s temporarily dazed, almost certain that what just occurred was nothing more than a dream (which wouldn’t be far fetched, you’d made several appearances in his sleep since that fateful day). He kicks himself for not just talking to you sooner, already impatiently awaiting your next encounter.

Still, there's no stopping the stupid, lovestruck smile that remains on his face the rest of the night. All because of you.

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington #fluff #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington drabble

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munson-blurbs · 3 months

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Eddie gets a not-so-sweet surprise when Hendrix takes some song lyrics a bit too literally.

TW: the briefest allusion to smut (referencing chapter 1), minor spousal conflict

WC: 1.5k

A/N: Based on an idea given to me by none other than @corroded-hellfire 💚 y'all wanted more of Hendrix, so here he is!

April 2003

The sedan rattles along the winding road to Forest Hills Trailer Park, pebbles crunching beneath the tires. Sunday nights meant dinner at Wayne’s, a tradition that you and Eddie both vowed to keep as long as possible.

A familiar intro trills over the car’s radio. Eddie’s eyes leave the road for a brief second to meet yours.

Step inside Walk this way You and me babe Hey hey!

“Our song, Sweetheart.” Your husband grins, right hand slipping from the steering wheel to crank the volume louder. He sings along, just as animated as he was that first night at The Hideout.

Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on Livin' like a lover with a radar phone Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp Demolition woman, can I be your man?

“Dad, what the heck?” Harris grumbles from the backseat. At eleven years old, he flips between adoration and annoyance with astounding speed.

“Yeah, what the heck?” Hendrix echoes his brother, though his smile is a far cry from Harris’s exasperated eye roll.

Eddie relents, twisting the knob just enough to be heard over Joe Elliott’s vocals.

“This is the song I sang that had Mom falling in love with me.” There’s a teasing glimmer in his eyes, daring you to disagree with him.

You eagerly take the bait.

“Love is a strong word,” you counter. The night you and Eddie met was steeped in memories of longing and lust, of giving into your desires in what was supposed to be a fling.

A fling that’s been happening for nearly seven years and counting.

Eddie sits forward suddenly, snapping the volume knob so Def Leppard once again reverberates through the car. “Wait…this is the best part!” He yells back to his sons, taking an extended pause at a stop sign to headbang.

Pour some sugar on me Ooh, in the name of love Pour some sugar on me C'mon, fire me up Pour your sugar on me I can't get enough

He leans in, smushing his lips against your cheek, as he sings along.

I’m hot, sticky sweet From my head to my feet, yeah!

You playfully shove him away, giggles betraying the irritated exterior you’re trying to uphold.

From the backseat, Hendrix pipes up. “What does that mean?”

Without missing a beat, Harris instigates further. “Yeah, Dad. What does this song mean?”

Damn pre-teens. If there’s no trouble to be found, they’ll make some.

Eddie swears under his breath, cheeks flushing red as he tries to find a response suitable for his three-year-old. “Well, um, he’s just…” he falters, any and all explanations fleeing his head. He improvises song lyrics on the fly when he forgets the real ones on stage, but now his brain short-circuits? Convenient.

Luckily, you’re used to fielding questions from little kids; one of the benefits of teaching preschool. “He wants to be extra sweet so a girl loves him.”

“So he pours sugar on himself?” Hendrix’s nose wrinkles in adorable confusion.

“Yup.” Easier to confirm your son’s own ideas than to come up with an alternative. Leaning back against the headrest, you force out a giggle. “Pretty silly, huh?”

The subject is swiftly dropped as Eddie pulls the car in front of his uncle’s trailer, Wayne already standing at the door and announcing that the pizza was on the table and ready to be eaten. “Delivered hot to the door, just like they promised,” he said, repeating the Surfer Boy slogan.

It isn’t until dinner has been eaten, the conversation naturally dwindling, that trouble begins to arise.

“Har, I wanna look over your homework when we get back,” you say, crumpling up your sauce-stained napkin and placing it on your empty plate. Your eyes narrow when you clock the uneasy glance that your oldest son shares with his father. “You did finish your homework, right?”

Harris tries and fails to hide behind his messy mop of curls. “Not exactly,” he mutters. His uneaten crust is suddenly of incredible interest. “I was gonna do it today, but, um…”

“But what?” Your impatience is directed both at him and Eddie, the other alleged adult in the house, who was home with Harris while you took Hendrix to a playdate.

“Well, okay, the plan was for him to do his homework,” Eddie begins, choosing his words carefully. Too carefully, like he’s trying to hide something. “But then Jeff called and told me about this tournament at the arcade; like, all of the old-school stuff we played as kids. I told Harris he could go if he promised to finish his work after, but then time got away from me—”

You grit your teeth, all-too aware of your audience present. The last thing you need is for your temper to unravel in front of Wayne and the boys. “So Harris’s homework isn’t done because…” You take a deep breath before continuing. “…because you wanted to go to the arcade?”

Wayne mumbles a barely audible “hoo, boy” as he clears the snack table.

“I’m sorry, all right?” Eddie shakes his head. “I lost track of time, but he’s gonna get it done. It’s just, what, some math and science stuff?”

“And social studies,” Harris admits.

Eddie’s face blanches. “Okay, so…just three things.”

Except it’s not that simple. Harris needs to take breaks to keep himself motivated and prevent frustration. He needs to reread and revise because he has trouble attending to all of the details at once. And now that he’s older, his know-it-all approach only makes homework time more challenging—for him and for you and Eddie.

“Looks like he’ll be up until God-knows what time, then,” you shoot back. “And you can be the one up with him.”

“I said I’m s—what the hell?” Eddie leaps up, nearly falling over his feet in the process. A mountain of grainy white substance falls from his lap, into the futon’s crevices and onto the floor.

Hendrix stands beside him, an upside-down—and now empty—bag of granulated sugar in his pudgy hands. His big eyes dart between you and Eddie, anticipating your reactions.

“Hendrix,” Eddie says through a deep breath, channeling every ounce of remaining patience. Harris cackling doesn’t help, either. “Why did you do that?”

Your youngest son shakes the bag a few extra times for good measure. “Putting sugar on you so Mommy likes you. Like in the song.”

Shocked into stillness, Wayne speaks up. “What song made you dump all of my sugar on your dad?”

Hendrix beams as he belts out, “POUR SOME SUGAR ON MEEEEEE! STICKY SWEET!” He turns to you triumphantly. “Do you like Daddy now?”

You tuck your lips into your mouth to keep from bursting into laughter. Logically, you know that you can’t reinforce this behavior, even if it was done with good intentions.

But it’s also really funny.

“I like Daddy even when he’s not covered in sugar,” you say. “I love him a lot, and us having a little argument doesn’t change that.”

“But the song…” Hendrix furrows his brows.

You breathe out a sigh. “Sometimes, people say things in songs that we don’t do in real life. Like when people beat each other up on TV or in movies. It’s fun to watch, but we aren’t actually going to do it.”

The boy pouts. “So do I gotta say sorry?”

“Yes,” you tell him, “to Daddy for pouring the sugar on him, and to Grampa Wayne for wasting his sugar.”

“Sorry, Daddy. Sorry, Grampa Wayne,” he says softly. “I didn’t know the song wasn’t for real.”

Wayne grins. “S’okay, kiddo. I’ll just drink my coffee black for a while.”

Eddie’s positioned over the kitchen sink as he brushes the rest of the granules off of his shirt. “I think we need a hard-and-fast rule that we don’t copy any of the things we hear in songs.”

“Agreed.” You start towards the tiny closet where Wayne keeps the vacuum, adjusting the hose so it can suck up the sugar embedded into the futon’s mattress. When that’s done, you grab the broom. “Now, Hen, you’re gonna hold the dustpan while I sweep the floor.”

“But—” he starts to argue, but a raise of your eyebrows silences him. “Okay…”

Eddie takes the broom from you, a tight smile on his face. “Guess I kinda deserved that, huh?” He murmured.

“Didn’t wanna say it out loud, but…yeah.”

“I really am sorry.” He sweeps the sugar into Hendrix’s waiting pan. “It was a real dumb move on my part.”

You kiss his cheek. “I know you’re sorry. And I forgive you, you stupid, stupid man.”

“Good.” He grins wickedly. “I’d hate to have to pour more sugar on myself to win back your affections.”

You roll your eyes. “Just keep sweeping, and then we can talk about my affections.”

“Yes, dear.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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mechaknight-98 · 2 months

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That time I got abducted by an Alien Warlord Masquerading as a K-pop Idol (NSFW) FT Jihyo

Author's note: My 100th fic and my reaching 1,500 followers coincided so I should do something special. My original thought was a Jeewon fic where she's a massive crime boss, but I had just written her. Then the next idea was a threesome, but I'm still tired from writing that foursome so that was a no-go. I was kinda stuck, I thought about going on hiatus but then Twice had a new comeback, and the idea for 8ft tall Galatic Empress Jihyo came to mind and everything fell into place. Also I guess this is the “First” Diabolos series story.

“Jihyo?” I ask. Jihyo nods her head. My brain is fuzzy as I come to from being crushed by debris

“Oh good you already know who I am,” Jihyo says pleasantly while I look her up and down. “Nice to meet you C-137 resident,” she said as she got up. Her hand outstretched to mine and I took it to shake hers. She smiled

“The name is Diabolos,” I responded taking her hand. Her aura exuded grace and power. (or maybe it was the fact that she was 8 feet tall) her smile was genuine, but something about all of this still felt off.

“You know when I was receiving reports from the Carbonicphage,” how one little being was waging a war against it single-handedly and winning I had to investigate. Imagine my surprise when I also learned that he is also part CMR-1957. Talk about special. I hate how CMR-1957 destroyed itself such a promising race filled with so much potential and promise”

“Huh,” I said confused by all the numbers. Jihyo smiled with understanding before answering.

“Oh right, you still name the new planets you find instead of indexing them based on region. C-137 is what we call earth.” Jihyo said. I nodded and she smiled again. It seemed practiced though not genuine and it set me on edge.

“Okay, penultimate question: why are you 8 feet tall?” I ask very confused.

Jihyo laughs and says, “Oh this is my true form,”

Due to the circumstances (and my brain is fried), I replied, “That's hot,” Jihyo looked at me confused before I quickly changed the subject.

“So what happens now?” I ask

Jihyo smiles and says, “Now we take over. You're race is dying anyway so well just clean up the mess you've made and dust the planet off before we can put more settlers on it. That was all I needed to hear I activated my nano email and brought out “Wings of Liberation” Jihyo smiled before saying,

“Now dear did you honestly think that your tech would scare me?” she said as multiple tendrils of steel pierced my flesh. A strange feeling surged in my body along with a searing pain. Jihyo pouted.

“I'm sorry Diabolos but you are too interesting to kill. I need to crack you open to see what makes you tick. I hope you understand it is nothing personal. ” she said as the tendrils dragged me away

Eventually, I passed out from the pain. When I found consciousness again the first thing I saw was Jihyo sitting in front of me pouting before she noticed my eyes opening.

“Oh great you're awake,” she said with a bright smile. I found my heart skip a beat and cursed the muscle for finding comfort and joy in her presence.

“So I told the other C-137 residents that we were taking over and do you know what they did? They shot at my ship. Like can you believe that? I was prepared to let them die off naturally since the endless conflicts you have will destroy your home before I do, but now I am mad.” she said fuming. The craziest part. I found myself feeling bad for her. Like from her perspective she's not used to how we do things. So her peaceful PSA may seem like a violent declaration of war to us.

“That sucks but hey it could be worse. They could have destroyed the ship.” I say with genuine empathy. Jihyo smiles and then waves her hand. Her tendrils remove themselves from me she catches me before setting me down.

“Follow me,” she says. As I dust myself I feel a bunch of conflicting feelings that I push down.

Without missing a beat Jihyo says “Stop that!”

Jihyo turns back to me and says, “You have… (she searches for the proper word) The Void embraces it. It's a part of you, not a burden.”

I look at her confused then ask, “Huh?”

“In my culture, there are those who feel/ desire with the insatiable capacity of a Black hole. Those are typically the ones who push our culture forward. We venerate them yet you suppress them. Don't do that.” Jihyo says with a smile. I return it and Jihyo smiles.

“Oh Mr grumpy finally has a smile,” Jihyo teased as I followed her

Jihyo leads me through a series of winding corridors, her pace steady and confident. The architecture of the ship is sleek and alien, filled with an otherworldly beauty that leaves me in awe despite my circumstances. As we walk, Jihyo explains more about her culture and the purpose of their exploratory and colonizing missions.

“You see, Diabolos, our people have always sought to expand and improve. We believe in the potential of every world, just as I see potential in you,” Jihyo says, her voice soft but firm.

I glance at her, trying to gauge her true intentions. “And what exactly do you want from me?”

Jihyo stops and turns to face me, her eyes intense. “I want you to embrace your true nature. You have a strength and a void within your heart that is rare and powerful. With our guidance, you could become something extraordinary.”

We enter a grand chamber, filled with advanced technology and a breathtaking view of the cosmos. Jihyo gestures for me to sit, and I do so hesitantly.

Jihyo says with a smile. I return it and Jihyo smiles.

“Oh Mr. Grumpy finally has a smile,” Jihyo teased as I followed her.

“You see, Diabolos, our people have always sought to expand and improve. We believe in the potential of every world, just as I see potential in you,” Jihyo says, her voice soft but firm, reminiscent of Hyewon’s gentle encouragement.

I glance at her, trying to gauge her true intentions. “And what exactly do you want from me?”

Jihyo stops and turns to face me, her eyes intense and unwavering, a touch of Arin’s directness in her gaze. “I want you to embrace your true nature. You have a strength and a void within your heart that is rare and powerful. With our guidance, you could become something extraordinary.”

We enter a grand chamber, filled with advanced technology and a breathtaking view of the cosmos. Jihyo gestures for me to sit, and I do so hesitantly.

The journey to Jihyo’s home planet was unlike anything I had experienced before. As we traveled through the vast expanse of space, surrounded by the hum of the ship’s engines and the distant glow of stars, I found myself drawn to Jihyo’s presence. We sat together in a quiet corner of the ship’s observation deck, watching the swirling galaxies pass by in mesmerizing patterns. While traveling Jihyo force-fed me every language of her empire, along with physical sparring sessions every day while using simulations of her planets gravity. Which ended up being a little under double Earth's. Jihyo despite my slow start was impressed at how quickly I took to everything. Something commented on during one of our shared meals.

Jihyo, with her usual grace, broke the silence. “You know, Diabolos, most beings who visit our planet find it difficult to adjust to our gravity. I’m impressed that you took to it so quickly.” My heart raced despite my reluctance around her. She seemed to genuinely care about me but she also stole me from my planet like I was a stray.

I chuckled softly. “It wasn’t easy at first, but I suppose being a Hybrid Demon King has its perks.” I glanced at Jihyo, catching the soft curve of her smile in the dim light. “You seem quite at home in space. Is this where you spend most of your time?”

Jihyo nodded, her eyes reflecting the starlight. “Yes, overseeing our exploratory missions keeps me occupied. But I must admit, having a companion like you on this journey makes it more enjoyable.” I found myself smiling words and some not-so-pure thoughts raced through my head.

I felt a warmth spread through him at my words. “I’m glad to hear that. It’s not often I find someone who can keep up with me.”

Jihyo tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes. “Oh? And here I thought you preferred the solitude of battles and conquests.”

I chuckled again, feeling a newfound ease in Jihyo’s presence. “I do enjoy a good fight, but I’ve come to appreciate moments like these—quiet, reflective.”

I found myself drawn to Jihyo’s intellect and wit, her perspectives on life and leadership offering me new insights.

As the ship continued its journey through the cosmos, I couldn’t deny the growing attraction I felt towards Jihyo. Her confidence and poise, coupled with a genuine curiosity about me, stirred something within me that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Before long, we found ourselves standing side by side at the observation deck’s viewport, watching a distant nebula unfold in vibrant hues of blue and purple. Jihyo’s shoulder brushed against mine before leaving her head on my shoulder, and I turned to meet her gaze.

“You know,” Jihyo began softly, her voice barely above a whisper amidst the gentle hum of the ship, “there’s something about you, Diabolos. Something that intrigues me beyond your prowess in battle.”

I met her gaze, my heart racing at the intensity in her eyes. “And what might that be, Jihyo?”

Her smile was luminous against the backdrop of the cosmos. “I believe it’s your capacity for change, for embracing new possibilities. You’re more than just a warrior; you’re a catalyst for transformation. No, you're beyond that you are a nexus point where you move the worlds around you. ”

Our words hung in the air between them, charged with unspoken meaning. I reached out, gently placing my hand over Jihyo’s, feeling a surge of connection that transcended words or worlds.

“Perhaps,” I murmured, my voice tinged with uncertainty yet hope, “perhaps that’s why our paths have crossed.”

Jihyo’s fingers intertwined with mine, a silent affirmation of understanding. “Perhaps indeed,” she replied, her eyes holding a promise of adventures yet to come. I felt a pang in my heart my desires simmering just beneath the surface.

Together, under the canopy of stars, we stood united in the vastness of the universe, on the brink of a journey that would challenge us both in ways we had never imagined, but this nagging thought kept recurring.

“You speak of potential and strength, but what about mercy and compassion? Do those not have a place in your world?” I ask, my voice tinged with defiance.

Jihyo’s smile fades slightly, replaced by a thoughtful expression. “Mercy and compassion are seen as weaknesses in our culture. They are sentiments that can be exploited. But perhaps, in time, you could help us understand their value,” she adds, showing a hint of Hyewon’s warmth and openness.

I nod, and Jihyo takes me to her home world.

It’s beautiful. The architecture is menacing but elegant. The air is crisp and clear. As I walk out of the ship, Jihyo gestures for me to be careful as their gravity is much higher than Earth’s. I nod. When the door opens, I feel the weight of the world (literally) crush me. Jihyo goes to steady me, but I shoo her hand away as I stand up.

“I stand on my own,” I say. Jihyo smiles, watching me take my first few steps proudly on her homeworld. As I take further steps, Jihyo encourages me to be free.

“Cast your burden of normalcy aside,” she says, her words genuine and soothing, akin to Hyewon’s nurturing support. I release a tension in my gut I didn’t know was there. When I open my eyes, all I see is Jihyo’s brilliant smile. Her touch lingers on my “horns” as she caresses them, shivers arcing throughout my body.

As we walk through the city, I feel a weight cast off my chest. Although it felt like I was carrying my weight plus 415 pounds, Jihyo led me into a restaurant. Despite the looks I get from the other members of Jihyo's race, I ask:

“Hey, Suny, what is your race called?”

Jihyo’s smile is bright. “Was that a pet name?” she teases, a playful glint in her eyes reminiscent of Arin’s boldness. I sit back, then think.

“No, there’s no going back now,” Jihyo says before grabbing my hand. Her touch is sensational; it feels like every nerve is on fire. I am filled with a boldness that I had long thought I intentionally diminished.

“Yes, it was,” I say confidently, “Now answer the question.” The stares surrounding me seem impressed instead of judgmental upon hearing that. Jihyo smiles.

“Spoken like a true Pharo,” Jihyo says before taking me into an intense kiss. My heart races at the smell of her perfume (the closest equivalent I could think of was orchids and lilies). When she breaks it, she smiles and licks her lips.

“Let’s skip the meal. You need a fight,” she says. I nod, ramped up and raring to go.

Being the Empress of the Pharo empire has its privileges, one of which is arranging a pitched battle at almost any time.

My blood races through my body despite my fatigue. I have never felt so alive. Before the fight, Jihyo sits next to me.

“Oh, you’re ready,” she says. “I see it in your eyes.” I smile and get up.

“When you win, I’ll have a reward for you,” she says, smiling brightly. I smile and head out to the pitch.

Jihyo proudly announced to her people, “Ladies and gentlemen today we have a very interesting pitch fight for you. Our very own pitch fight champion Priam vs. The Hybrid Demon King from C-137 Diabolos.” at that moment I had never felt more seen for who I was and I basked in it. “This is where I belong,” I thought to myself “I'm the king” were the only thoughts in my head as I got ready for battle. Priam Faced me he stood 10 feet 4 inches tall and carried with him a massive sword. I smiled as I activated my nanomail and unsheathing wings. Priam smiled. In a bright flash, he lunged his blade at me. I blocked with an axe form of wings which made Priam smile

“Oh okay.” he retreated but I pressed on. The offensive. I jumped and swung the axe to his chest. Electricity arcing off mine.

Prima smiled as he released fire from his sword I blocked his swing with my axe. He looked at me and said, “I know you have more go for it.”

So I oblige him. My armor transforms again as more hyper-blade jets cover me along with more electricity and other energies flowing through me. Priam claps seeing this but doesn't expect my next attack. I jump in the air and barrel towards him at near the speed of light. He smiles as he is launched out of the ring. The arena is silent before the crowd cheers my name

“DIABOLOS! DIABOLOS!” they repeat again and again. I feed on that energy and acclaim and pound on my chest. In the crowd, I make eye contact with Jihyo whose eyes look at me with a hungered fervor. She smiles graciously

After the battle, Jihyo brought me into her home, and honestly, it was not what I expected. Instead of a grand place, it was a humble 4-bedroom home. I found myself more at ease. We sit on her love seat and she says.

“I watched your fights with the Carbonicphage and the one they call Haiabd and I noticed that. You held back against them. Why?”

I pondered Jihyo’s words before answering “It's hard to fight when all your opponents feel like they are made of paper,” Jihyo nodded and asked

“What about my world how does it feel?”

Her eyes held an intense gaze that reminded me of Arin.

“I love it here. I have never felt as free to be me. I don't have to suppress or stuff anything down. I can walk and talk how I like.” I respond while gazing into her big soothing eyes.

“That's good I knew you belonged here. While not born a pharo you certainly have our spirit.” Jihyo says happily as she kisses me. I breathed in her perfume again as my brain scrambled. Guilt danced at the frayed edges of my mind, but here with Jihyo, it felt correct. It felt like home or at least what I wanted out of a home. Emotionally nourished as well as physically.

I spent the next several weeks maybe months (time is weird here) just training and spending almost all my time with Jihyo. I fought in 4 more pitch battles. I won 3 and lost one, to Jihyo. I felt my attraction for her growing by the day, as she began to nestle herself into the same space that Arin and Hyewon held.

The pitch was empty, save for Jihyo and I The vast arena was a testament to the grandeur and power of the Pharo, its architecture both intimidating and awe-inspiring. We had just finished a grueling training session, and the sun beginning to set on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape.

Jihyo stretched lazily, her movements graceful and feline. "You know, for someone who’s never taken anything seriously, you’re a surprisingly good company and an exceptional leader," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I chuckled, leaning against one of the pillars. "Is that your way of saying you enjoy my presence, Jihyo?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Don’t let it go to your head, Demon King. I’m just saying you’re not as insufferable as you look."

I raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on my lips. "Coming from the Empress of Insufferability herself, I’ll take that as a compliment."

Jihyo feigned offense, placing a hand over her heart. "Oh, you wound me, Diabolos. Here I thought we were becoming friends."

I laughed, the sound deep and genuine. "Friends, huh? Is that what you call this?" I gestured between them.

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, I did say you’re good company. Maybe I even like having you around."

I met her gaze, my eyes searching hers as my heart raced. "Careful, Jihyo. I might start thinking you have a soft spot for me."

She tilted her head, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I do. Despite your race’s propensity for weakness, you rise to every occasion I have set. It's becoming a thrill just to make new obstacles for you plus I just like the challenge you present. You’re not like the others."

"And you like that?"I asked, my tone turning serious for a moment.

"I do," she admitted. "You’re different, and it’s intriguing. Keeps me on my toes. Even when compared to other Pharos you have this drive to win no matter what and you give everything to do so. It inspiring"

I leaned in, our faces inches apart. "Well, I’m glad I can keep the mighty Empress intrigued."

Jihyo's gaze flickered to my lips for a brief second before meeting my eyes again. "Just don’t get too comfortable. I still expect you to keep up with me."

I grinned. "Wouldn’t dream of doing anything less. In fact, I hope to surpass you"

We shared a moment of silence, the tension between us palpable yet pleasant. Jihyo broke it with a light laugh, pulling back and gesturing to the center of the pitch. "Come on, let’s see if you can handle another round. I can’t have you thinking you’ve already won me over."

I followed her, my grin widening. "Winning you over, huh? Is that a challenge?"

Jihyo looked over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You wish, Demon King. You wish." I may have not won her over but she has stolen my heart

We get back to her home after training for 7 hours. Jihyo is impressed by something she makes known as I head into her house to shower and when I exit.

When we got back Pharos Jihyo was exhausted as was I. The battle celebration would have to wait as we headed to her home. We headed to her bathroom to rinse the stains of battle from us we entered her large bath together. The tension between us was intense. My body was giving me all the signals to mount Jihyo then, but my mind told me not to. Our eyes lock, and Jihyo’s look sets my aching loins ablaze.

“You have grown so strong here,” she says. Eyes fully dilated. I nod and she remarks.

“Okay enough foreplay” before pouncing on me

Jihyo smiles before kissing me. I feel my hands go to her heaving tits and I grab them unconsciously.

“Oh my,” she says and I instantly freeze. I retract my hands and Jihyo pouts.

“Why Did you do that? I know you've been thinking about it?” she said. I look at her worried. Jihyo slaps me.

“Take what you want,” she says. She slaps me again and repeats her words before my horns come out and she smiles. I rip her blouse open revealing her tits and grope them before going in for another kiss. Jihyo moans in my mouth as she slips her hand into my pants. Despite her size and strength her touch is exceedingly gentle. She breaks this kiss and says, “What do you want?”

“I wanna fuck those fat tits, and fill your cunt to the brim. I want to mark your entire body. I want you to know who you belong to. I want you to know who you belong with?”

Jihyo moaned and said, “Then take it.”

I slipped into another kiss with Jihyo. She lowers herself to my crotch before wrapping her beautiful breasts around my cock. She smiles.

“How's that?” she asks.

“So good” I moan out

Slow is not in Jihyo’s vocabulary she rails me with her boobs and I try my best not to cum too earlier but she takes that as a challenge.

Her intensity increases as she says, “cum for me. Please it'll be good I promise. I want you to feel good. Come on, please. I need it. You need it too. Let go” Her eagerness gets the better of me as I explode all over her tits. She smiles happily and massages my seed into her mounds. Watching her basking in my cum is enough to get me hard again. Without a second thought, I pick her up out of the bath with a strength I didn't know I had (reminder she is 8 feet 3 inches or so) and carry her to her bed. She smiles as she shimmies her pretty tits for me. My cock begs to be inside her as I watch her enraptured. She smiles and says

“Fill my cunt to the brim,” she encourages. I nod and thrust into her tight sex. She moans like a banshee. When I bottom out her eyes focus on me and I'm captivated by her eyes. Her look was fierce and determined. Her walls clutch me like a warm wet hug as I continue to plow her. I groan as her pussy sloshed under me. A light sheen of sweat begins to cover her body as in the golden hour her tan skin radiates even more of her beauty. I smile which she mirrors and she says,” cum” Her words spur me on and I absolutely flood her pussy.

Jihyo smiles and says, “Well you certainly filled me.” I landed next to her and she was all smiles. I grabbed her and hugged her tight as I passed out exhausted.

The next day had been long, filled with negotiations and boring peace talks. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, Jihyo and I found ourselves on a quiet balcony overlooking the capital city of Pharos: Cairo. The bustling sounds of the city below seemed distant from our perch, creating a serene atmosphere.

I leaned against the railing, my eyes scanning the horizon thoughtfully, before turning back to Jihyo, who stood beside me. Her presence was a calming influence amidst the evening breeze.

“It’s beautiful,” Jihyo remarked softly, her gaze fixed on the fading light. “Pharos has a way of captivating you, doesn’t it?”

I nodded, having now almost been here a full year. I had accepted Pharos as my home. “It’s different from Earth, but there’s a majesty to it. A strength that resonates through everything here.”

We lapsed into a comfortable silence, the only sound the gentle rustling of the wind and the distant hum of the city below.

“You know,” Jihyo began, her voice quiet and introspective, “for all the battles we fight and the challenges we face, moments like this remind me of why we fight. It’s not just about power or dominance. It’s about preserving something greater than ourselves.”

I turned to look at her, a smile forming. “So you do think about other things besides competition and winning,” I teased.

Jihyo pouted. “Relax, Yoyo. You have a way of seeing things. A perspective that goes beyond the battlefield.”

She met my gaze, her eyes reflecting a depth of emotion. “I’ve seen too much not to appreciate moments of peace. Pharos is my home, but it’s moments like this—with you—that make it feel truly alive.”

A gentle smile tugged at my lips. “I’m glad I can share this with you.”

We stood together in silence, the fading light casting shadows around us. Her hand found purchase in mine. In that quiet moment, amidst the chaos of our world, Jihyo’s softer side shone through—a leader who cherished peace as much as she did strength, finding solace in the presence of someone who understood her in ways words couldn’t fully express.

She chuckled and said, “Demon King, I have something for you.”

I turned to her, tilting my head in curiosity as she pulled out a necklace.

Jihyo rolled her eyes. “When I found you, you had two rings. They were broken, but I had Priam reforge them into this drill core. I hope you like it.”

I smiled at her gesture and happily took the necklace, but my heart was heavy. Arin and Hyewon were probably worried sick about me, and here I was, going on a cosmic adventure. banging a space milf… I know Jihyo wasn't a milf but you get the idea.

Jihyo sensed my turmoil and said, “If they cared about you, they would have come for you. Or at least we’d be hearing stories about people looking for you.” Her words cut deep, but before I could respond, she pulled me in for a kiss.

I fell under her spell, my worries slipping away. At that moment, I fully embraced being a Pharos. Jihyo sensed the change in me and smiled. “Now,” she said softly, “let’s go home.”

We arrive at our place and Jihyo smiles.

“I love you,” I say.

“I love you more,” she says back

The next day Jihyo and I lounge around the home enjoying the peace. During the night was a peace festival

The Pharos festival was in full swing, vibrant lights casting a warm glow over the bustling city of Cairo. The air was filled with laughter, music, and the tantalizing aroma of local delicacies. Jihyo and Diabolos walked side by side through the crowded streets, their hands occasionally brushing against each other.

"What's this?" Diabolos asked, pointing to a colorful stand filled with intricate masks.

Jihyo grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's a tradition. We wear these masks and dance through the night. It's meant to symbolize shedding our burdens and embracing our true selves."

Diabolos picked up a mask adorned with shimmering scales, his fingers tracing the delicate craftsmanship. "Sounds like fun. Which one should I choose?"

Jihyo selected a mask for herself, its design elegant and fierce. "Try this one," she suggested, handing me the mask. "It suits you."

We donned our masks and joined the dancing crowd. The music was infectious, and I found myself moving to the rhythm, my worries and responsibilities melting away. Jihyo danced beside me, her movements graceful and free, a side of her I rarely saw.

As the night wore on, We found ourselves at the edge of the crowd, catching our breath. Jihyo removed my mask and I removed hers to see her big smile.

"This is incredible," I said, my voice filled with awe. "I never imagined a place like this."

Jihyo smiled, her expression softening. "I'm glad you're here to share it with me."

We head back home and Jihyo’s arousal is palpable. Her body demands sex and she intends to get it.

Jihyo cornered me in our little home, but the line between predator and prey blurred as I took her hungrily in for a kiss. When I broke it Jihyo was dizzy her eyes unfocused on anything but me. She looked deep into my eyes before going in for another kiss. Her prey drive triggered knowing she caught me. She lifted her dress revealing her magnificent bare breasts in between frenzied kisses. Jihyo smiles.

“Someone’s excited,” she says elated at the feeling of being so desired. I was left breathless in Jihyo’s wake as she brought me in for another devouring kiss. Our hearts race as we get accustomed to each other.

“You know typically you aren’t my type, but I admit. Your boldness has captured me.” Jihyo said excitedly before pulling me to the bedroom. She pushes me onto the bed before pulling my pants down, followed by pulling my underwear out of the way. She chuckles when my cock gently smacks her face.

“Oh, this is such a nice cock.” Jihyo declares before taking me into her mouth, without hesitation, she takes me down her throat. Jihyo’s eyes roll into the back of her head as she inhales my scent; a mix of citrus and natural musk that made Jihyo want more of me.

She begins to bob her head along my shaft taking slow deliberate breaths through her nose as she focuses. As Jihyo’s core heats up from pleasure she claws into my meaty thighs. I felt electric as Jihyo’s sucked me off with a Rapacious Appetite.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned Jihyo smiled around my cock. She grabbed my balls hoping to illicit an even greater moan, and she got it. I was overwhelmed with pleasure my brain couldn’t process it. Jihyo smiled even harder as she continued but didn’t expect an explosion from me when she bottomed out again. She drank my baby batter. It was sweet and salty as she savored the taste. She got up from between my legs and stared at his unfocused but lusted over eyes. She watched as my eyes traveled all over her body eye fucking her with reckless abandon. Before I could think I was back to kissing Jihyo. Not one to be outdone she pushed herself to see how much of me could take. Her hand wandered to my cock as she began stroking me again. I was so ravenous to the point I lowered myself before Jihyo when I reached her clit I stared into her eyes before taking an exploratory lick. Jihyo moaned before smashing my face into her cunt. I began to lick and nibble everything

I made up for his lack of experience with enthusiasm. I licked and nibbled all around her pussy and clit seeing which Jihyo liked more it seemed that a counterclockwise rotation around her clit mixed with an occasional tongue insertion seemed to drive the woman wild. So using this I pushed Jihyo to orgasm. As she came all over my face her lush thighs wrapped around my skull as I continued to tongue fuck her. Jihyo shuddered as her need to be filled began to overwhelm her until she pushed me from under her. I gave her a confused look as I landed on the bed safely but when Jihyo saw my hard rod her instincts took over. She got on all fours and wiggled her sexy body enticingly.

“Come fuck me,” she said. I happily obliged. I approached her awesome ass appreciatively before piercing her pussy with my petulant penis. Her walls are as comforting as ever.

“Please be rough with me I need it,” Jihyo moaned and I slammed my hips into her. She groans out in pleasure.

“Fuck,” she says as her walls get tighter around me. I slam into her again and watching her ass bounce mesmerized me and pushed me to fuck her harder and harder. I pull her hair up and she moans.

“Yes,” she moans. The way her ass and tits bounce plus the tightness of her pussy leaves me breathless as I cum inside her. Jihyo moans before crashing down on the bed in front of me.

I go to remove my cock from Jihyo and she growls for me to leave it in. Not wanting to see the consequences of disobedience I leave myself embedded in her, as we drift off into sleep.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #twice fanfic #jihyo smut #twice jihyo #jihyo

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okwonyo · 1 month

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（标题） GOODLOOKING AND BEYOND.

PREC𝒾S ⠀⟡⠀you take your time to admire the view.

( 엔하이픈 제이크 ) ୨୧ f .. r 700 fluff established relationship ── kissing skinship ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ recue𝒾l

no view ever witnessed was and will ever be more beautiful that the one in front of your eyes.

you firmly believe it. the niagara waterfalls or the aurora borealis have nothing on the beautiful view before your eyes.

your heart beat faster as your gaze drags from the edge of your boyfriend’s nose, sliding on his bridge, coming back and forth— enough times that you would be able to redraw it from memory if you were asked to.

if you were to tell the truth, you would say that you are able to recognize his side profile even if you lost your sight.

you are not able to count how many times you stared at jake like that. in that exact position you are in: laying in bed, you settled yourself on your side for a more comfortable view, his arm under your head as his back rests on the mattress, his eyes closed.

his chest rises and falls gently as he acts like he is asleep— silently fighting the urge to not blush. his breath is quietly heard, escaping from his nostrils, beautifully wrapped around his nose.

you blink a few times. you wonder how anyone can have that pretty of a side profile. and ponder about how anyone could be so normal about looking like this every day.

you scoot closer to him. just so your mouth brushes against his skin. your hand holds the cheek of his that is not facing you, turning his face to yours.

his nose touches yours, bump into it even. his soft breath lands on your lips as he opens his mouth slightly— waiting, wanting.

you kiss. it’s not necessarily long or passionate. but it’s warm, soft and just good. like the feeling of freshly made bread melting on your tongue. simple and enough to make all your muscles relax. enough to make him smile against your mouth, ruining his fake sleeping act.

you eye flutter open, “i love your nose,” you whisper, for the ninth this week.

jake delicately get out of your grip. he removes his arm under your head to rest his weight on a single elbow.

you have seen the look on his face too many times to not know what is coming next. you can feel the blood rush creeping on his face as well as the knot made of so many words he wants to say at the same time.

a smile forms on his face as well as a pink hue does on his cheek, as well as the knot undoes itself in a soft, “i love you.”

as well as your voice melts into his, a murmured, “i love you too.”

then here comes his iris dilating in a slow motion, like cherry blossoms falling on the spring’s ground. the look of love.

all it takes is a smile from you for him to come hide his nose in the crook if your neck. right where it belongs. right where you can feel the shyness emanating from his body.

even after all those years, his knees get weak at the sight of your smile. he would have fell to the on them if he wasn’t in bed with you right now.

your fingers find his hair without you even realizing. you position yourself on the back and jake follows through, practically laying on top of you.

after a while, you speak up. “i miss you,”

he doesn’t need an explanation to understand what you mean, “i miss you too,” he immediately mumbles back against your skin. “but i love your scent.”

you hum. then immediately argue, “but i want to see your face.”

and he complies. setting himself back in front of you, with a small pout still. this time, you both face each other. not saying anything, just staring at one another without any intention to do anything else.

he is really beautiful. you have to fight yourself to not say it out loud— not necessarily wanting to make him shy again or receive a kiss. you just want to stare at him, he seems to want to do the same.

both of your giggles resonate in the quiet room.

𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open !

(..◜ᴗ◝..) this was rather short, but this idea have been eating my brain for a while. i hope your week is going well so far, thank you for reading this— luck is on your side 💌

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somethingpersonarelated · 5 months

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On simplifying Akechi

My brain was ridden with these ideas people have about Akechi that piss me off a little. Mostly ones that say he is "just crazy" or "just hates Joker." There's countless metaposts countering these arguments (and they are absolutely wonderful) but I often wonder WHY simplifying Akechi down is so appealing, even to people who are fans of his character. I can't say I've never been immune to simplifications of his character either, and I feel like that's important to admit. I don't even think it's necessarily a bad thing, but I was wondering about that why question.

TW: Discussions of mental health and child abuse

Source: A high schooler's holiday from the P5 Comic Anthology (read it here!)

I do think it's hard for all of the little things Akechi's character builds upon to be conveyed through a single playthrough. If you go in blind or don't finish his confidant, you may only get that surface level exploration of his character. Base Akechi is flashy and still gets the point across that it needs to: he's a foil to Joker and the PTs. However, by missing out on his social links and special events, you miss cultural, relationship, and personal context.

Many words have been said about the translation, particularly in the engine room, being faulty in areas. But some people still don't understand that Akechi's plan isn't to kill Shido, even when the text makes that clear. There's also this scene with Shido, which reads more as an exposition dump in a long section of the game most players will either tune out or skip. Not everything you see will always stick in your head, and Persona is a LONG game. I feel like it's easy to forget people just... forget canon sometimes. It's easier to put these details aside and say Akechi isn't affected by the system he's raised in. But the reality is, you miss what Lavenza says about Akechi's role, you miss that one exposition scene, and you miss the confidant: you believe Akechi had much more autonomy than was actually true. In conversations I've had with people IRL about Persona, 2/3 either skipped or did not finish Akechi's confidant. It isn't improbable, playtimes can range from 100-300 hours, most playthroughs take weeks. People will forget things. It isn't a maybe, it WILL happen.

When the game feeds you so much information, it's also easier to take what the characters say at face value. Doing this with Akechi will bite your ass. Those words in Rank 8 are directly expanded upon in No More What Ifs, the engine room, and 2/2. Maruki and Morgana confirm Akechi doesn't hate Joker, but you never hear Akechi say it himself. To me the game beats you over the head with this information (as the game has a tendency to do for certain situations), but I've also been in the rabbit hole for over a year now.

There's also this idea that recognizing that Akechi was set up by Yaldabaoth, his upbringing, and Shido means that all the venom is taken away from his actions. That isn't true, and Akechi holds to that in third semester. He doesn't give himself any grace for the situation he landed in, wanting to take accountability for it when it is undone without his consent. Akechi is by no means a perfect victim, and he doesn't believe that either. Recognizing that he had no choice, it was either homelessness and neglect or the plan he conjured himself only brings to light the tragedy of his situation, not whether his actions were morally incorrect. He wanted his father to be in his life, and he wanted his father to suffer. He wanted to have someone like Ren in his life, and he couldn't have someone like Ren because his plan would be jeopardized. It's a series of choices, some of which are forced upon him, some of which he chooses himself. That is an important distinction to make.

There's also this idea that Akechi is 'just crazy,' or never suffered from abuse or events that affected him long term. That he doesn't suffer from unspecified mental health conditions or trauma, and chose everything with a clear mind. When someone brings up this argument, it's usually in response to people talking about his life experiences. That somehow, the existence of trauma or a condition is an excuse for whatever he did. There's a double standard here: Akechi is someone who suffers from a condition that makes him 'plain crazy', simplifying his entire motivation and role in the story, while also removing him from the context of his mother, Shido, and his experience with the foster system. Actually interacting with these facets of his character brings to light the challenging things the story asks you to think about when it comes to Akechi: Is he a victim? Is he like the Phantom Thieves? What about his situation informed his choices? Interacting with this requires effort and an actual acknowledgement about what it means to be someone that suffers from trauma. Calling him 'plain crazy' not only is in disservice of textual analysis, but more importantly incorrect (and frankly, it falls straight into ableist tropes about mental health).

Sometimes internet debates/discourse lead to simplification, even just random headcanons may lead to simplification. That isn't always bad. There are many ways to say what I said here in fewer words. I, unfortunately, am not skilled enough to do that. But some of these simplifications lead to entirely incorrect judgements about a character, or even about mental health issues. When that happens, I wish people would learn to reflect about what that means when they interact with a piece of media. Or even with other people.

tldr: people should learn to say they just don't like things instead of coming up with excuses that make no sense. basically

#p5 #p5 meta #goro akechi #p5 discourse #p5r #p5 spoilers #thinking-emoji #a rant i am so sorry

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hamable · 4 months

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McElroy brothers are worms in my brain. They talk about Jerry Seinfeld saying there’s no comedy on TV anymore, and I’m like Danm, Guess Jerry Hasn’t Seen Dropout Yet.

And without missing a beat Justin belts to the heavens my exact thoughts: “BRENNAN LEE MULLIGAN SINGLE HANDEDLY IS MAKING ENOUGH CONTENT TO KEP AN ENTIRE NATION FED!”

#mbmbam #brennan lee mulligan #bleem #dropout #my brother my brother and me #mbmbam 711

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alottanothing · 3 months

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This is for @twola, who, about a week ago was having a bad day and wanted someone to write a snip of Arthur beating the shit out of someone who made the reader cry; with the addition of some smutty goodness, of course.

Well, this is the first time I've written publically for our dear cowboy Arthur Morgan. And I simply cannot write anything considered a 'snip'. So here's what my brain calls a snip; over 5k words just for you, twola. I hope this makes up for the bad say you had last week. :)

And shout out to my partner in writing crime, @itswormtrain, for making this readable!

Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, smut (18+ MDNI), oral (f!reader receiving)

The sun was beginning to set over the peaceful hills and sprawling trees of Cumberland Forest. Those lingering traces of daylight caress the rugged terrain with whimsy, casting shadows that dance over the dirt path under the hooves of your young stallion. Nature seemed to pause in reverence as the sun gracefully lowered itself behind the distant mountains; the only sound was that of your horse's steady walk and the murmuring babble of the Dakota River in the distance.

It had been too long since you’d enveloped yourself in such tranquility, seemingly always at the receiving end of Miss Grimshaw’s scalding. Any anticipation of exploring the wilderness or going on jobs with the guys was always overshadowed by the necessity of chores.

When you’d joined the ranks of the Van der Linde Gang, you had hoped you’d garner a little more excitement than a seemingly endless cycle of laundry, cooking, and mending. Sure, the mess in Black Water and the threat of the law constantly at everyone’s heels was a form of excitement, concerning, but still excitement. Though, things had died down since all that, and Horseshoe Overlook was truly an awe-inspiring place to call home for the time being. Even so, camp chores remained deeply understimulating.

In truth, you were just antsy; you always were when Arthur was away for more than a couple of days. Your mind always thought the worst, despite knowing your handsome outlaw was more than capable of handling himself on jobs and in the wilds. But that nagging concern never ceases to occupy your mind. His absence at camp was never more cumbersome than when Grimshaw was barking out instructions, or when Uncle’s drunken singing was so off-key, it scraped against your brain like a rusty old knife. You simply couldn’t stand it anymore; you needed peace and quiet—something to scratch that itching thought in the back of your head.

Admittedly, you hadn’t planned to venture so far from camp, or any sort of civilization for that matter. The towering ramparts of Fort Wallace were in your sights before you decided to turn back. Were it not for the shotgun secured in its holster on your saddle, the late hour would have left you feeling considerably more anxious. Arthur had taught you well, and instilled in you enough confidence not to worry as you trot down the dirt path toward Valentine.

There wasn’t a single soul to be seen for the majority of your journey; your only company that of your horse and Mother Nature’s comforting embrace. You almost hated the far-off glow of a town in the distance, over the crest of a hill. Soon you’d be back at camp with nothing to do but laundry and fret over your lover's absence.

“Pardon me, miss.” You nearly jump from your saddle hearing the strange man’s voice. “Thank god for you, would you mind – too terribly – giving me a ride back to town?”

Your heart skips a warning in your chest as you look around, where did he come from? The question dances in your head as you fight to form the words you want. This was O’Driscoll country—a notion you were suddenly very aware of, and your eyes glance at the rifle still tucked securely in the holster on your saddle.

“I was thrown from my horse, ya see—wild beast took off without me. ‘Fraid I hurt my ankle when I fell.” He explained, garnering a wave of sympathy that clouded the caution in your gut.

The stranger wasn’t dressed in the usual black and green of Colm’s gang: just simple trousers and a dirty work shirt and boots. What could it hurt?

“Yeah, alright,” you said, giving the man a faint smile.

“Oh, bless you, miss. Bless you,” the look of relief on his features did well to settle the remainder of the apprehension swirling in your stomach.

With a firm grip, you steadied your horse so the man could climb on, offering your hand to help him up.

And that act of kindness was your mistake.

His grip on your wrist was like a vice, painful, as he yanks you from your horse's saddle, your boots nearly getting hung on the stirrups. A sinister laugh echoes through the tall trees, splitting the serenity with the jagged sound of malice. Your stallion rears and cries, spooked by the abrupt movement, but the stranger is quick to steady him, forcing your horse into a full gallop toward the glow of Valentine leaving you where you fell.

When the shock wears off, you aren’t sure which was stronger, the wave of anger that envelopes you, or the sudden fear of solitude that brings forth the steady stream of tears down your cheeks. Both feelings were justified, you figure. That, and how utterly foolish you feel for trusting a stranger.

You knew better. Your time with the Van der Lindes taught you not to trust anyone, at least not someone on the side of the road pretending to be hurt. That was the oldest trick in the book. One you’d used several times to con someone out of something. Now, you were out a horse and a shotgun.

When the landscape grew darker as night fell, those shadows that you once looked on with awe and majesty, now loom sinisterly.

Stupid! You scolded yourself, more tears searing down your face. It would be dawn before you made it back to camp on foot; if you made it back to camp at all.

Without the security of your shotgun at hand, your confidence in making it home unscathed was growing short. Animals lurked in the trees around you; monsters both beast and man would undoubtedly set their teeth on you if they found you alone and without the means to protect yourself.

A shiver surges through you, a combination of the onslaught of fear and the chill from the mud you’d landed in. If you’d been riding with Arthur, no one would have the gall to steal from him. And if they did, they surely wouldn’t live long enough to get far out of reach.

You wipe the mud from your hands to your skirts before swiping at the tears staining your face. Maybe someone from camp would notice you hadn’t returned yet and send someone looking for you. Why hadn’t you asked someone to ride along with you, Mary-Beth would have, and she would have appreciated the quiet you wanted. But no, all you needed was the shotgun… How foolish you were.

With a sigh, you work yourself to your feet, boots, and skirts caked with mud and dirt. Even with the weight of self-pity beckoning you to stay planted on the side of the road, the rage put fire in your steps. You would make it back to camp, feet surely blistered, if only to lessen the embarrassment of being robbed.

Anger proves to be a useful motivator as you trek down the road before you, lit only by the white light of the moon. The tears had stopped, but they threaten to spill again simply from how much your feet hurt. That glow seemed to have tricked you; Valentine wasn’t close at all. All there was was trees and rocks and dirt in every direction. You were utterly alone; lost in the wilderness with only thoughts of your naivety to keep you company.

Suddenly, the sound of hooves pounding against the earth resonates through the stillness of the wood, sending shivers down your spine and provoking a new wave of tears. With every nearer beat of the rider’s approach, anxiety constricts your heart, sending a whirlwind of possibilities into your mind. Images of dark strangers conjure in your thoughts, each with a fiendish smile and a revolver on their hip, a green bandana tied around their neck. All your anger drains, as you feel fear creep deeper into your being. You wish you still had your shotgun.

“You need a ride, miss?”

Relief crashes into you like a wave against stone; you know that voice, deep and comforting—kind (to you, at least). This time, it was joy bringing tears to your eyes.

“Y/N?” The look of surprise was to be expected on Arthur’s face as he beholds the sight of you, muddy, with tears staining your face. “Darlin’, whattaya doin’ out here?”

Immediately he jumps from his horse, warm hands gently holding the tops of your arms as he gets a better look at the state you’re in. All traces of his hard exterior are swept away, leaving the softer, more compassionate man you fell in love with.

“Camp was driving me crazy without you. I just wanted to take a ride, but some asshole stole my horse—yanked me off my saddle an’ everything. S’why my skirts are all muddy.” You explain, fighting more tears.

Some of the softness fades, still, his voice is gentle when he speaks again.

“Did he hurt ya?”

You shake your head, “no.”

The pad of his thumb dances over your cheek tenderly as he tilts your chin to look at him.

“Darlin’, ya been cryin’.”

“’M just cryin’ at my own stupidity, is all.” You tell him. “Should’a known better than to trust a man alone in the woods.”

Arthur takes a deep breath through his nose, nodding.

“D’ja at least get a good look at ‘im?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you nod. “He took off towards Valentine.”

Arthur glanced south and nodded too, “Then I reckon that’s where we’ll find him.”

He places you on the saddle and mounts just behind you, drawing you close to his chest as he gives his loyal mare a gentle kick to urge her back onto the road.

With Arthur's arms around you, the darkness of the forest shifts back into the realm of tranquility. The menacing silhouettes of the towering trees became that of gentle giants, swaying gracefully in the night breeze. No longer did the whisper of rustling leaves hold a feeling of foreboding. The forest, in the ethereal silver glow of the moon, was a picture of peace and beauty once more.

Despite what had happened, even Arthur was a beacon of serenity. He hums as you both ride. It’s the same tune Uncle was singing when you left, only Arthur’s melody instills you with a sense of calm while Uncle’s attempt had you on the verge of threatening to remove his tongue. Every so often you feel his lips press to your scalp, leaving soft kisses in your hair and each one helps to remedy every sour thought plaguing you. It never ceases to amaze you just how tender your outlaw could be. To the civilized world, he was quite literally the poster of cruelty and evil, but for you, he was your knight in shining armor.

Valentine was quiet when the hooves of Arthur's horse turn down the main thoroughfare. The muddy roads, churned up by hooves and wagons, were dimly lit by the flicker of oil lamps. In the distance the stirring of livestock in their pens echoes through the stillness of the air, the only other sound coming from the saloon in the middle of town.

Smithfield’s always seemed to clamor no matter what time of night it was. Debauchery never slept, you guessed. The clinking of glasses and the lofty tune of the piano can be heard as you pass the sheriff’s office, a symphony of merriment in the still night air that lent such disregard to the tired citizens of Valentine.

A few men stand outside, bottles in hand as they lament lost love and glory, belching and hiccupping into the cool air. Horses tied to the hitching post whinny and jerk at reins keeping them in place, and there among them was your stolen stallion.

Arthur steers his mare to the front of the saloon, his heavy boots landing with a squelch in the mud as he dismounted. He helps you down, strong hands circling your waist and steadying you in the soft earth.

“I’ll be right back, darlin’,” he says and tips his head toward your horse. “Get yer boy, Imma go take care of some business inside.”

Before you can utter a word he stomps up the stairs of the saloon, his frame taking on the posture of The Enforcer as he pushes through the swinging doors.

His face wasn’t unknown here, it was only a couple of weeks ago he and a few of the other men from camp had gotten into some trouble. You weren’t there to see the fight, but you’d heard all about Arthur’s trip through the window—now boarded up and waiting to be repaired. This time, you hoped it wasn’t your handsome outlaw cast through the pane of glass.

While Arthur is inside, you deftly untangle your horse's reins from the post, gently stroking his mane to soothe his soft whinnying. You smile when he nuzzles you back, happy, it seems, to be back in your care.

“Was that awful man mean to you?” you ask softly, rubbing the coarse fur of his strong neck. “Arthur will handle it, don’t you worry.”

As if on cue, the jovial commotion in the saloon ends; the happy voices now holding anger or shock. The piano playing is lost to the disgruntled sounds inside and a moment later, the man who nearly ruined your night is thrown through the doors.

His bruised form topples down each step before landing in the mud. You watch, unable to quell the sense of pride that surges through you as you watch Arthur swagger through the saloon doors and down the steps, spurs jingling. The confidence he holds as he looms over the thief settles over you warmly. This act of violence was in the name of chivalry; the man deserved whatever justice Arthur planned to dish out.

“Didn’t need ya to point him out after all, darlin’.” Arthur's words fell from his lips with the ghost of a grin, pleased with the opportunity to put your attacker in his place. “This feller was inside boastin’ to the whoooole saloon ‘bout the horse he stole from a helpless young woman just outside of town.”

Arthur kicks the man as he tries to stand, the thief falling back into the mud with a groan. Folks begin to gather on the wooden porch of Smithfield’s, their faces twisting in looks of both concern and excitement as they watch your handsome outlaw and the man who’d stolen your horse.

“See, normally I don’t waste my time dealin’ with dim-witted horse thieves. Hell, on occasion, I am one. But you see, that weren’t just any helpless young woman ya stole a horse from… that was my woman.” Arthur deals him another kick to his gut, knocking the wind from his lungs a second time as he tries to stand.

“An’ if it ain’t clear already,” Arthur says reaching to pull the man from the ground and holding him by the lapels of his jacket. “I don’t take kindly to anyone hurtin’ my woman in any way. Ya understand?”

The deep timbre of Arthur’s voice works over your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. He looks so fierce in the flickering light of the oil lamps, the brim of his hat shielding his eyes from you, though you know they were cold, focused on the man in his grasp.

No coherent words fall from the thief's mouth as Arthur holds him nearly off the ground, only a moan of anguish, surely from the two kicks he’d suffered.

“Nod if ya understand,” Arthur demands with a shake.

Anger churns on the thief’s face, but he nods, slow, jaw clenching as he musters the gall to fight back.

“Fortunately for you, all I’m lookin’ for is an apology…” Arthur tips his hat in your direction. “…to the lady.”

The man’s dark eyes glance your way and he sneers, shaking his head with a mirthless chorttle.

“I ain’t apologizin’ for nothin’, especially when your woman is stupid enough ta get her horse stole in the first place.”

If you cared even slightly about the fate of the man who’d stolen your horse, hearing those words escape his mouth would have caused your stomach to drop knowing the sort of fire he just ignited. But, you want nothing more than for Arthur to beat him into a bloody pulp.

To your surprise, however, Arthur remains steadfast, but his voice is increasingly more sinister when he speaks.

“Maybe ya didn’t hear me. An apology. Now.”

“No.” The thief spat, a fiendish smile turning his lips.

With lightning speed and unyielding force, Arthur’s fist collides with the man’s jaw, unleashing a thunderous crack that has the onlookers gasping. The sudden impact propels the thief backward, his body crashing into the cold mud for a third time.

You expect him to stay there, really if the man had any wits about him, he would have. However, despite the two kicks and the blow to his face, the thief rose from the mud, foolish determination etched onto his bloodied features. Arthur almost scoffs and wastes no time proving the extent of his strength. He strikes him again, obliterating the remnants of the man's fractured jaw, the sound resonating with a deafening crack.

No one rushes to the man's aid when he falls to the muddy earth for a fourth time, wailing in anguish at his shattered jaw. Arthur stands over him, tall and formidable, his presence almost challenging the man to get back up, your outlaw more than prepared to deal out more justice.

“Should’a apologized…” Arthur chides. “If ya had, maybe ya’d have use of that jaw’a yours right now.”

The man groans in agony, writing on the ground as he holds his broken jaw.

“But I had ta keep ya from speakin’ ill’a my woman like that. I certainly don’t appreciate when slimy fellers like you use her kindness against her.” Arthur slowly circles the man like a fierce wolf circles their prey. “Then ya had ta go leavin’ her out in them woods, faaar from any sort of civilization, all alone. An’ well. I ain’t takin’ no apologies for that.”

He stops, one leg on each side of the thief before dropping to his knees, fist poised high over the old leather hat on his head. Arthur didn’t leave your attacker with only one more punch; the man under his weight had committed the ultimate sin in your lovers eyes. He’d hurt you, a crime that warranted the ultimate punishment.

The sound of each punch reverberates through the air as Arthur’s fury drives him to deliver decisive blows. As you watch, pride swelling in your breast, you swear each hit lands with such intensity the ground beneath you trembles. All the folks gathered to watch pass whispers while looks of shock mold their features. Come the morning, the town would be talking again about the stranger who liked to stir up trouble in the sleepy city of Valentine.

When Arthur finally stands, flexing his surely aching knuckles, the man beneath him is unrecognizable. Blood and bruises distort his face, teeth missing from his gaping mouth. His limp body is unmoving in the mud and you haven’t a care whether he was dead or alive.

There is a hint of shame on his expression when he drew himself back into your orbit, the coldness in his eyes warming in your presence.

“’M sorry, darlin’.” He says refusing to look you in the eye. In an instant, the Enforcer was gone, leaving only your kind knight in shining armor standing before you, his knuckles red and bloodied from dealing out justice.

“For what?” you say taking his injured hand in yours, wiping the blood from the cuts with a clean section of your skirt.

“For what I done.”

You shake your head and tilt the brim of his hat, looking to meet his lowered gaze. “All you done, Mister Morgan, is protect your woman. Ain’t a lick of shame in that.”

He grins softly, gently caressing your chin and cheek with his clean hand. His expression meets yours completely.

“’M just glad I happened upon ya when I did.” He murmurs and you step closer to him.

His gentle eyes, painted in a delicate watercolor palette of blue and green, softly convey the deep love he possessed for you, along with the ever-lingering fear of losing you. The exquisite blend of tenderness and vulnerability was something seldom seen by anyone other than you. And each time those meticulously built walls of his came down, you were honored to behold the part of him he kept hidden from everyone else.

“Me too,” you whisper, hoping the look you give him in return conveys the same sentiment.

The lives you lived held no real guarantees apart from a bullet or a hanging rope. You learned quickly to never take for granted a single moment, and this one you certainly weren’t.

“You ready to get back to camp now, darlin’?” he asks, fixing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Camp… you almost grimace at the thought of returning to the mediocrity of it all.

“Actually.” Your eyes glance over to the hotel across the way, mischief coating your smile. “Was thinkin’ I should reward my rescuer.”

His brows furrow following your glance, oblivious to your meaning.

Before he can open his mouth to form a question, you kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck, stretching on your tiptoes to gain the fullness of his kiss. As if on instinct his arms weave around your waist, your feet coming off the ground as he pulls you in closer to deepen the draw of your joined lips. It’s slow and lazy and perfect, his mouth undemanding but firm against yours, making you melt into his very being.

Your head is spinning when he pulls away, placing your feet gently back into the mud, and you can’t fight the smile unfurling over your wet lips.

“I’ll buy us a room at the inn,” you say, batting your eyes coyly. “S’ the least I can do for my knight in shining armor.”

Arthur laughed, heartily. There is an undeniable charm to the sound of his chuckle, as it cascades through the air, enveloping you with an infectious happiness each and every time you hear it. As his eyes hold yours, a playful glimmer twinkles behind them as he swiftly deciphers your not-so-cleverly veiled plan.

“A knight, hmm?” his brow lifts onto his forehead in a deep arch, his smirk firm on his lips.

You nod, “In shining armor.”

He chuckles again shaking his head before scooping you into his arms with ease. You gasp at the swiftness, and laugh too, draping your arms around his neck before planting a kiss on his bearded cheek.

“Well, then, I reckon I should play the part, shouldn’t I, sweetheart?” he says as he steps around your fallen, broken-jawed adversary on his way to the Saint’s Hotel. “Ain’t never been a knight before, just a dirty ol’ outlaw.”

You laugh and roll your eyes.

He whistles as he trudges through the soft earth for his horse to follow and his loyal mare falls in close on his heel. Your horse follows too, nearly as inseparable from his horse as you were with Arthur.

“Ya ain't old, and ya ain’t dirty…need I remind you who's got mud all over their clothes?” you say kicking up your soiled skirts to get his attention. He just laughs.

“Maybe ya forgot already, but I was on my knees in the mud beating the life outta that fool who robbed you. That makes me just as dirty as you. ‘Sides, I reckon neither of us will be wearin’ them for much longer anyhow.”

His comment, and accompanying bravado surges through you like more wildfire, adding to the flames he’d already been fanning since throwing your attacker through the saloon doors. Arthur’s confidence in his ability to have you swooning with only the low smokey sound of voice and the words he spoke had grown exponentially. Which was both something of a blessing and a curse. You enjoyed the days of flirting and seeing him grow red in the face from your flattery. Now he made you putty in his hands with a few words and a coupling smile.

For that moment, however, you decide it’s a blessing; he’s your Savior in Spurs—a cowboy casanova.

You toss a coin to the innkeeper from the pocket of your skirts and he casts you a key that you manage to catch as Arthur wastes no time making his way upstairs.

In truth, the Saint’s Hotel was no paradise; with its meager accommodations and thin walls, it was hardly a place to find rest. However, that night, that illusion of privacy might as well have been nirvana. You could hardly recall the last time the two of you had a chance to make use of actual walls instead of the canvas flaps of Arthur’s tent. Here, the neighbors were strangers who wouldn’t be casting you looks over the fire the next morning, knowing far too much about what you and Arthur had gotten up to in his tent. You were going to savor every tiny detail unabashedly while you could.

The fire was already burning brightly in the fireplace, warming the room from the cool mountain air outside the windows, adorned with sun-rotted lace curtains. The wooden floor creaked under each step as if to voice its displeasure at the neglect it had suffered over the years. The faded wallpaper, once bursting with colorful patterns, now barely clung to the walls, faded and dusty. The bed, while made with threadbare quilts and pillows, appeared sturdy enough not to break under both your weights, and that was all you truly cared about.

Your boots are the first to come off once Arthur places you back on your feet, discarded with a couple of eager kicks before his hands reach for the fastenings of your skirts. Yours wind around his neck, burying your fingers in his honey-brown hair as you kiss his soft lips.

For all the violence they inflicted mere moments ago, Arthur's hands were so very gentle, plucking at the ties holding your skirts in place, and again as his deft fingers loosened every button of your blouse with practiced ease, leaving you in just your chemise. Despite the warmth of the fire burning in the room, a chill works through you and you sigh, more gooseflesh prickling your skin as Arthur moves his hand to the globe of your breast, thumb sweeping over the covered peak of your nipple.

His featherlight touches make your mind a dizzying vortex of desire. This man, who uses his hands to deal out death sentences, only ever uses them to worship you. His mouth, which often spits out sarcasm and cruelty, paints your skin with tender presses and undeniable words of adoration.

Your hands snake from their place in his hair to the buttons of his blue work shirt, loosening only a few before he swats your hands away gently causing a whine to sound in the back of your throat. He meets your furrowed brow with smirk and a quick peck on your lips before moving your hands back where they were.

“Feels good, you doin’ that,” he tells you.

You gently scratch the hair at the nape of his neck. “This?”

“Mhm…” he leans to kiss you again, a slow, worshipful act as though he is trying to memorize every detail of your mouth against his.

Desire thrums through you ever hotter. You need him.

“Arthur…” you breathe in weak protest as his lips scour down the column of your neck, his hands pulling your chemise from you. “…I’m s’posed to be rewardin’ you.”

You feel him smile and shake his head as his kisses venture further across your collarbone. When he relieves you of your bloomers, you shiver and moan at the feeling.

“Don’t need no reward, darlin’.” He whispers against your skin between kisses. “Think its you that needs taken care of after whatcha been through.”

Calloused fingers spray over the small of your back as he brings you against him, the hardness in his trousers pressing against your bare form. You feel your own arousal coating your thighs, warm and wet, and begging for the feel of him inside of you.

“Will ya let me do that darlin’? Take care of ya?” his hands explore as he speaks, trailing down your spine before cupping your back side with a little squeeze.

Your head falls back with a ragged sigh, fingers tugging at this hair. As much as you want to tease and dote on him and show him how grateful you were for his timing, you can’t think when he has you like this: naked and vulnerable to his touch, mind cloudy with desire.

“Yes, Arthur. Always.” You murmur, lost in the blissfulness of his touches.

As if you weigh nothing, he takes you in his arms again, hoisting you aloft, and carrying you to the bed where he lays you so tenderly over the threadbare coverings.

You watch, heart pounding against the cage of your ribs as he quickly sheds each of his layers. It is a show you have seen a dozen times and helped with a dozen more, still, your lust-blown eyes gauge him with reverence and awe.

He is truly magnificent, your handsome outlaw; strong shoulders and wide chest dusted with coarse hair your fingers yearned to comb through. Warmth drifts through your body as you drink in every inch of him, eyes landing where his cock juts from dark curls proudly and your cunt clenches in anticipation.

“C’mere, sir knight…” you say stretching across the mattress, smiling, and batting your lashes. “…come an’ claim yer prize.”

Arthur chuckles heartily as he climbs into bed, and you welcome the press of his weight with a happy sigh. He teases your lips with his own, soft kisses that leave you wanting before the press of his tongue coaxes your mouth open. You reciprocate, drinking from his mouth with hungry groans.

Heat pools lower and lower where you want him most; feeling the long pulsing line of him against your thigh was like torture, causing another whine to escape your busy lips.

“Please…” you sigh, a slow undulation taking your hips in search of some form of stimulation.

Once more he obeys, his mouth laying a hot trail down your sternum, stopping to draw your nipple between his lips before traveling further down. The sensation of familiar, calloused palms gliding down the stack of your ribs as his kisses continue their way down, squeezing the swell of your hips and kneading the softness of your thighs have your quiet moans echoing through the room.

Arthur dips his mouth to your center abruptly and draws his tongue up through your slick folds, tasting just how much you need him, and he groans.

“Mmmm, darlin’,” he murmurs before swirling his tongue over the bud nestled at the apex of your cunt. “I don’t do this enough…”

You gasp, a flash of heat pulsing through your center, head rolling against the pillow. He didn’t do this enough, then again, the two of you rarely found yourselves so alone together. And there was barely enough room for the two of you on Arthur’s cot anyway, let alone room to explore other methods of pleasure.

He intensifies his exploration, drawing his tongue over you in wide flat strokes, while your thighs come to moor on his shoulders, heels digging into his back. You feel his shoulders roll as he dedicates himself fully to his task, thrusting his tongue into you, filling you with warm velvet before abandoning your core for the silky nub crowning it. Arthur's tongue curls against it until you shiver and gasp.

“A-Arthur…” your breath hitches, hooking your fingers into his hair.

A low purr rumbles through him as you press against his face, hips rolling in rhythm with his ministrations. Your lover sweeps his tongue over and around your clit repeatedly. Sensation swells low in your belly, feeling yourself nearing the ultimate peak and you tug his hair ruthlessly wanting more. Needing more than just his mouth. His truly wonderful mouth...

“C’mon, darlin’,” he mutters against your dripping cunt, the gust of his breath billowing over your heated center causing you to shutter.

Without fanfare a wide finger dips into your core, then another, making your back arch and a loud moan spill from your lips at the delightful stretch. For only a moment, your cry reminds you of the paper mache walls surrounding you; no doubt everyone in the Saint's Hotel knows what the two of you are up to, but you cared little with Arthur between your legs eating you out like he was made to do so.

Stars dance in your eyes as you skirt the edge of your undoing. He growls encouragingly when you flutter in warning against his lips and around his fingers.

“That’s it…” he murmurs, voice low and utterly sinful. You can even feel his proud, smirking lips against your center, the image alone snapping the spring coiled low in your belly.

Ecstasy hits you like white-hot heat, tunneling your vision as you jerk against his face, heels digging into his back. His name falls sloppily from your mouth in a flurry of mixed vowels and sounds that hold no cohesive meaning, each one melding into throaty moans.

“That’s my girl…” He grins, removing his fingers to lap up all the juices of your arousal as you ride out your orgasm against his face.

Slowly you come back to yourself, the tremors of aftershock fading as your breath and vision catch up to you. Arthur remains content between your legs, gently kissing the soft skin of your thighs, once more humming the tune he’d serenaded you with on your way into town.

When he smiles at you, lips and chin shining with your nectar, love burning behind his blue-green eyes, you pet his hair, holding that gaze with the same reverence. Slowly a smirk unfurls on your lips.

“Like I said, knight in shining armor.”

#Arthur Morgan #Red Dead Redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fic

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ashwhowrites · 10 months

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Older! Eddie Munson x reader, who works at at store with Eddie, Eddie, who's in charge of her bc she's the new one in the store, they sometimes get kind of flirty with each other, and one night after work they go to a bar and end up sleeping together, turns out Reader is the daughter of (it could be Steve or Billy) and Eddie's like what the hell, and he's scared because he thinks Reader's dad is gonna destroy him, punch him really bad (or something like that?) Eddie stays away from reader except from work. They both miss each other, and then they talk and when Eddie tells her what's his concern she's like my dad already knows he's not mad at you he wants to meet you

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Billy's daughter

Y/N was in college, on her own, and knew she needed a job. It would be impossible to afford anything. She wandered around her small college town and looked into every store to see a help-wanted sign.

She cheered as she saw a help wanted sign, it seemed to be a small store. She walked in and took in the small room. Shelves stacked with snacks, candies, and a row of beverages. She saw a man, maybe in his forties, at the front counter. He had dark curly brown hair and it was tied into a low bun. Loose pieces framed his face, which called attention to his sharp jawline. He had soft pretty brown eyes.

"What can I help you with today?" His voice was low and deep. She couldn't help but feel her knees weaken just by looking at this stranger.

"Looking for a job!" She said

Eddie gave her a look up and down. Without missing a beat he said "hired."

~~~

And that was a week ago. She found out his name was Eddie and he was the manager of the store. He was indeed older, with no kids and no ring on his finger. He didn't talk about a girlfriend, and the way he flirted with Y/N, made her think he was single. At least she hoped.

Since she was new, she worked all her shifts with him. He trained her and kept an eye on her. The job wasn't that hard and she probably didn't need to train for as long as she was. But she wasn't going to complain about the extra time she got with him one-on-one. She never could wipe the smile off of her face when she saw their names written next to each other on the calendar. She noticed there were a few employees, and she never worked with them or even met them. But she was okay with that. She'd rather have all that time with Eddie anyway.

She felt stupid to have a crush on her boss. But she couldn't help it. He was a walking sex dream. His tattooed arms, and his smokey cologne. His sexy smirk and the way he teased her when she got embarrassed for staring.

He was charming, she had to admit that. He knew how to make her heart flutter. He flirted with full confidence, he knew she had a crush on him. She made it obvious with how she stuttered and practically fell over her feet in front of him.

"You didn't hear one word I said, did you?" His sexy chuckle made her body hot as she blinked repeatedly. She didn't notice he even started talking, and she didn't notice he was done with helping the customer. How long was he talking to her?

"Well, that's about," he looked down at his watch, "ten minutes this time. Kinda a new record." He teased. The wink he sent her way didn't help the butterflies in her stomach.

"You were talking to me for ten minutes? Why didn't you get my attention sooner!" She said, smacking his arm lightly as he laughed.

"Your little dreamy look is adorable. Your eyes get huge and your mouth is slightly open." He continued to tease her as she smacked him over and over. She felt like she was in middle school, hitting the boy she liked while he hit on her.

"It's not my fault!" She said

"It's not mine!" He argued back, his smile bright and his dimples popped.

"It is! You're so hot and you know it. And you use it against me!" She said, her brain barely realizing what she was saying.

"Nah uh, baby," his finger waved in her face, she was embarrassed by how badly she wanted to wrap her mouth around it. The nickname baby went straight to her cunt as she shifted. "I use the crush you have against you, not my looks. It's fun to watch you get so," he said, whispering as he moved closer to her face. His nose was practically against hers. "Squirmy and horny."

She felt the air get stuck in her throat, and she was pretty sure he was close enough to hear her choke on it. She didn't know what to say, she just stared into his eyes. She leaned in, her eyes flicked down to his lips.

But she felt the feeling of cold air as he smirked and leaned back. His face was now feet away from hers as he chuckled.

"I don't kiss my employees." He winked.

~~~

She felt so much relief when she finished her shift. She needed a cold fucking shower after all the teasing Eddie put her through.

"Wanna go get a drink?"

Now she was tipsy at a bar, and all her respect was out the window. Eddie teased her and teased her. She was horny and he knew it. So no shame in acting on it. He was telling a story, but all she heard was blah blah blah. She chugged the rest of her drink, then slammed it down on the table. She didn't wait for his story to be done, she smashed her lips on his. She was desperate, and he could feel it. Her hands went to his chest, as she gripped his shirt in a tight grasp. She yanked him closer by his shirt and slipped her tongue in his mouth. She moaned in delight when he kissed her back. His tongue was wet and warm against hers as his hand held the back of her head. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. From the kiss alone she was burning in delight and lust.

"Wanna get out of here?" He asked against her lips.

"I can't wait that long." She whimpered and it was true. She needed him now.

Eddie nodded and grabbed her hand. She followed behind as he led them into the one-stall bathroom. Her first time with Eddie was in a dirty bar bathroom, and she didn't care. Her back was slammed against the door as he locked it. Her hands immediately went to yank down her pants and panties. She pushed off Eddie's jacket as he worked on unbuttoning his jeans. He slipped out his cock from his jeans and hissed at the coldness of the air. He didn't mind since he was seconds away from being in her warm cunt.

She reached behind and gripped his ass as he pushed himself inside of her.

It was fast, rough, and desperate. Their teeth clashed as they kissed and her head smacked against the door with every thrust. But her body has never felt better.

~~~

Eddie dropped her off at home since she was too buzzed to drive. Her car left at the store parking lot so she had to ask her dad for a ride.

"Eddie Munson is your manager?" Billy asked as he pulled up to the store.

"Yeah. Isn't he cute?" Y/N gushed. She couldn't believe just last night he was pounding into her. He made her have so many butterflies, that it felt like a zoo was in her stomach.

"Ew but sadly, many girls thought that in high school. Just be safe with an older guy, okay?" Billy said. Weirdly, he was cool with Y/N dating whoever she wanted. He raised his daughter to be smart. She was an adult and he couldn't stop her from dating anyone. He valued his relationship with his daughter and didn't want to lose it over being controlling. That's exactly how he learned to hate his parents.

"He's a good guy, I promise I'm safe." She pecked her dad's cheek as she got out of his car. A huge smile on her face as she walked into the store.

~~~

Eddie felt his palms get sweaty when he saw Y/N pull up in Billy's car. He hadn't seen Billy since highschool and honestly was still terrified of him. His icy blue eyes sent Eddie a glare as he drove off. Why was Billy driving her?

"Hi handsome," Y/N said, leaning over the counter to peck Eddie's cheek.

"Why was Billy Hargrove driving you?" Eddie asked, ignoring the kiss on his cheek.

"He's my dad," Y/N said it like it was no big deal. She simply shrugged and went into the office to clock in.

Now Eddie was even more terrified. He fucked Billy's daughter. And not in a romantic way. He fucked her raw in a bar bathroom like she was a whore. And he knew something happened because why else would Billy glare at him as he drove off?

"So! What's the plan for tonight? Wanna go see a movie?" Y/N asked, oblivious to Eddie practically shaking in the spot next to her.

"I think last night was a mistake," Eddie said he didn't think it through. His focus was on Billy and the fastest way to escape a beatdown. Breaking Billy's daughter's heart? Yeah, he didn't think that through.

Y/N felt the breath get caught in her lungs but in the worst way. Her eyes immediately got wet as Eddie's words sank into her skin, the same skin he sank his teeth in hours ago.

"Um, why?" She asked she tried to hide the fact she wanted to cry. She knew her crush was dumb. He probably enjoyed the little cat-and-mouse game. He got her so now he was done.

"Because I feel like it was!" He argued. He was hiding his fear behind anger. But he had no reason to be angry at her. But he was. He was so pissed that she didn't bother to tell him who her dad was. Yet again, why would she? She didn't know Eddie knew her dad. It wasn't like she did it on purpose, but Eddie punished her like she did.

"It wasn't to me. I like you and I think you like me too." She tried to understand him, was it all an act?

"Well, you thought wrong. Sorry to see that you got your hopes up." He talked to her like she was nothing like she meant nothing. And it crushed her more than he'd ever known.

Neither spoke for the rest of their shift. She felt embarrassed to be so excited about how she thought today would go.

~~~

When she came in the next day, she was shocked to see someone different behind the counter. She read their name tag and realized it was just another employee. One that she saw countless times on the schedule. She wasn't stupid, she knew Eddie went and took away all the shifts they would have together. She hated how much it hurt.

A week went by and Y/N still hasn't seen Eddie. Billy noticed the change in his daughter's attitude. She didn't talk much about it, just the gist that Eddie wasn't interested anymore. She tried to seem like she was fine, but Billy knew she wasn't. But it wasn't his place to be involved. He felt sorry for her. They spent many dinners talking about Eddie coming over so she could have her dad meet a potential boyfriend.

~~~

Y/N was shocked to see Eddie back behind the register. After two weeks of him ghosting her, she didn't expect to see him again.

She didn't say a word, walking past him as she clocked in. She craved to hear his voice, and she wanted to cry and beg for him to just give her a chance. She knew she could be worth it. She didn't know what about her wasn't good enough.

Eddie found himself wanting to say something but he knew he shouldn't. He knew he should apologize and leave her alone. He hurt her more than he did anything else. A damn good reason for Billy to give him a black eye.

The shift went slow and Y/N wanted to tear her hair out. No customers, so the two sat in silence for hours. She felt his eyes on her every so often but she refused to give in. He made it clear she was an idiot child with a crush and that's all she was.

She checked the time on the clock, she had another two hours and she wasn't sure she could handle it. She thought fast and the lie sped off her tongue.

"Is it cool if I dip early? I've got plans." She asked.

Eddie jumped at the sound of her voice, he was prepared for a whole day of silence.

"Um yeah, that's cool." He wanted her to stay. Even if he was too chicken to talk to her, he liked having her near. He liked knowing she wasn't anywhere, she was right there with him.

It wasn't his place to ask, but his stomach turned at the thought of what the plans were.

"Is it a date?" He asked. He tried to sound nonchalant about it, just making casual conversation. He looked over at her, this time surprised to see her looking at him.

"Yes." She said Eddie hated the answer and he hated the way she looked right into his eyes to tell him. Once again, it wasn't his place to have his heart feel like it was squeezed in her hands. It wasn't his place to feel a sick feeling in his stomach like something was stuck in his throat.

Neither said anything more. She walked out of the office and clocked out. She gathered her things, a silent wave to him as she walked past. Inches away from her car when she heard the tiny bell of the door and footsteps behind her.

Her arm was tugged and her body was wiped around. Her body smashed against Eddie's. Before she knew it, his warm lips were on hers. She tried to fight it, she tried to fight it so hard. She could feel his lips repeatedly pressing against hers, just begging for her lips to move against his. His hands gripped her elbows as he desperately held on to her.

"Please." He begged against her lips, his eyes were closed. He was too scared to look at her. He waited and prayed she'd kiss him back.

But all he felt was a sting on his right cheek as she slapped him right across the face. He groaned at the impact but knew he deserved it. Then finally, her lips pressed against his. Her hands wrapped around his neck as she passionately kissed him. She needed one moment of weakness.

Eddie whimpered as she pulled away. His lips chased after her but she moved her head. She removed her arms from him and pushed his hands off of her.

"Please don't go on that date."

"Why, Eddie? You made it clear it was all in my head." She explained, her heart felt the familiar sting.

"I lied! I like you so much. And that night wasn't a mistake. I've wanted it since I met you. You're beautiful, sexy, and sweet. I knew you liked me so I went for it. I don't regret it. I didn't know Billy was your dad, once I found that out I panicked. I figured he'd be pissed at me for going after his young daughter and I was scared he would punch me. Which I see runs in the family." He said as he pointed to his cheek. A red mark forming.

"Why didn't you just say that!" Y/N groaned, smacking Eddie's arm in the flirty way she used to. "My dad and I have a close relationship. And he wanted you over for dinner. He's fine with you being older. He's way more pissed at you for sleeping with me than ignoring me."

"Billy wants dinner with me?" Eddie was shocked.

"Well, probably less after you ignored me for weeks." Y/N shrugged. She enjoyed making Eddie sweat.

"I'm so sorry about that. I truly am." He apologized.

"I forgive you. Next time, don't be an idiot. Just talk to me about your fears. Otherwise, a relationship will never work."

"A relationship? I like the sound of that." Eddie smiled.

"Me too." She winked, moving in to press her lips against his again.

~~~

"Alright, my dad should be here any minute. Are you ready?" Y/N asked. She and Eddie were closing the store while they waited for Billy to pick them up. Billy refused to let Eddie meet them at the restaurant, he said he'd pick them up and they would all drive together. Which terrified Eddie, but he couldn't lie he always wanted to be in the same car as the famous Billy Hargrove.

"Yes. Just one more thing!" Eddie said, leaning over the counter to smash his lips on hers. She giggled into the kiss and held his face.

"Thought you didn't kiss employees." She teased, he smiled against her lips.

"I'm not. I'm kissing my girlfriend."

Honk

Tags!

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slvtforsimon · 7 months

Text

Step-Dad || John Price

Synopsis - Your step-dad comes home from his deployment.

Warnings - NSFW.

Notes - Based on this.

Word Count - 1.2k.

{Caffeinate Me/Commissions}

It was late, too late for people to be awake. John unlocked the back door silently, creeping into the pitch black kitchen, to the living room and finally up the stairs. His feet were moving quickly towards your bedroom before his brain could even compute what he was doing. Without knocking, John stepped into your room and walked swiftly over to your sleeping figure. Feeling eyes on you, your eyes snapped open and you shot up. However before you could scream, John placed a large hand flat over your mouth and whispered, “shh princess. It’s just me.” You gulped and nodded, eyes wide as your beating heart slowed down its pace at the revelation of the intruder. “‘M missed you.” He flopped down onto your single bed and nuzzled into you, kissing the soft exposed flesh of your neck.

“Missed you too,” you said.

“Shh princess, your mother doesn’t know I’m home yet,” John whispered into your neck, hand finding its way down your pyjama bottoms and past the waistband of your underwear. You nodded, letting out a soft whimper of surprise as a thick finger prodded at your tight hole, slowly inching inside of you. You had to bite the pillow underneath you to suppress the loud moan threatening to escape your lips. “Shit baby, so fucking tight.” John’s voice came out in a silent hiss. “You touched yourself much while I was gone, baby? Hmm?” He mumbled quietly, teeth dragging along your neck. Unable to speak, you just shook your head causing your stepdad to chuckle. After a few more thrusts, he inserted a second finger inside of you, soft squelching noises filled the room as your pussy got wetter. You whined further into the pillow as you bucked your hips up, your body still slightly groggy from being woken up so quickly.

John’s index and forefinger continued to move inside of you languidly as his thumb began to make soft circular motions on your clit, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. “John,” you mewled, back arching as you felt your orgasm rapidly approach.

“What is it baby?” He cooed quietly. God he had missed the feeling of your pussy greedily sucking in his fingers and the way you pulsated around him as you came. John knew you were close, smug bastard didn’t want you cumming just yet. Within the blink of an eye he had your pyjama pants and underwear around your ankles before pushing his face into your slit, tongue darting out past his lips to suck on your folds.

“John!” You whimpered softly. Your hands found their way into his hair and tugged softly, forcing the Captain to let out a groan into your cunt.

John continued to lap at you like a man starved: being on deployment and away from you for so long had been killing him. While he was away, he’d fuck his fist in his barracks to thoughts of you spread out below him, moaning his name so deliciously. Nothing could make him cum after he had had a taste of you, nothing could make his balls ache and twitch like you could. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he moaned, sending vibrations up your body. Your legs wrapped around John’s head, forcing his mouth further against your folds as he began to nibble at your clit. Within seconds you were cumming over his face, soaking his beard and moustache with your spend. With trembling legs that were going slack over his shoulders, you whimpered John’s name over and over again as your eyes rolled back into your head. “That’s my good girl,” John purred, licking a long stripe up your slit before pulling away and quickly removing his cock from its restraints. His cock was tanned, a similar colour to skin tone, but his tip was furiously flushing red, leaking pre-cum that had your mouth watering at the sight. “Just lay back baby. I’ll take good care of you.”

“I trust you,” you whisper breathlessly, coming down from your orgasm.

John settled himself between your legs, slicking his tip up your folds before slamming into you. It burned as he stretched you, felt like your first time all over again but you got used to his girth quickly as he began to thrust against you. He wanted to be slow, wanted to be sensual to show you just how much he had missed you while he was away, but the second he entered your velvety walls he was physically unable to hold himself back. John’s hips slammed against yours ruthlessly, sounds of skin-slapping-skin filling the room as his assault on your cunt continued. “Oh baby you feel so good,” he growled silently, praising you. Your head was clouded with pleasure, you felt too good to be able to actually register anything your stepdad was saying to you. He bullied your tight hole mercilessly, heavy balls slapping against your arse with each thrust he made.

John felt himself reaching his orgasm, but before he allowed himself to spill inside of you, he pulled out with a pop and forced you onto your stomach, pressing his hand to the back of your head and forcing your face into your plush pillow. You let out a whimper, cunt becoming sensitive by the second as you felt a second orgasm approaching. Your pussy fluttered, ripping a moan from John’s throat. His hand was still placed firmly on the back of your head, stifling your moans against the pillow as he pounded into you, chasing his own high. It was then did his hips stutter as you milked him, rope after rope of creamy cum spilling deep into your womb. “Holy fuckk,” he growled, hand bunching up into a fist in your hair as he stilled his hips against yours. After a few seconds, John let go of your hair and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your head before settling down next to you. He couldn’t seem to process his feelings for you as you turned around and stared at the ceiling, breathing intensely. He knew this was wrong but couldn't help it. “I really missed you darlin’,” he whispered, bending over your bed to reach for a cigar located in his cargo pockets.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, gazing up at him through your lashes. You frowned as he lit up the cigar, scrunching your nose up. Great, now your room was going to smell like smoke for weeks, oh well, at least it would remind you of John when he was on deployment. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to your body as he inhaled your scent. It didn’t take you long to drift into a deep sleep and when you woke up in the morning, your bed was obviously empty.

You made your way downstairs to see your mother and John sitting at the dining room table sipping on their morning coffee. “Sleep well darlin’?” John asked you, not looking up from his coffee. He had a knowing smirk on his lips.

“Very,” you replied, smiling back lightly as you poured yourself a cup of coffee. It was then that John looked at you, his heart fluttering at your smile. He wished he had met you before he had met your mother, maybe then you’d be the one with his last name.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare x reader #call of duty x reader #captain john price #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john price #stepdad!price x reader #stepdad!price #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #cod #cod mw x reader

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sugugasm · 2 years

Text

• — ♱ synopsis — toji teaches you to abide by his rules.

• — ♱ content warning - pwp, minors dni! meandom! toji but he softens up later on, f! reader, sub! reader, masturbation, fingering, doggystyle, missionary, overstimulation, breeding, squirting, daddy kink, use of pet names such as ꒰ slut, sweetheart, angel ꒱ toji has a chest tat i don’t make the rules. toji also has somewhat of a humiliation kink???

• — ♱ notes - i had to write about ceo toji again bc he’s been clouding my brain. this one is a long one, i loved this idea :p thank u for reading, ily, & reblogs and interactions are always appreciated <33

coming home to you was toji’s favorite part of the day.

after a excruciatingly long week, he could finally return home to his pretty wife; who’s just as eager to see him too— sending flirty texts and selfies while he’s at work typing up documents. toji may not have shown it often, but when he was away from you, he felt empty. it was nothing more than a blessing and a privilege to arrive home smothered with hugs and kisses — everything he’d missed while at the office. it was a feeling he’d never get tired of, a sight he’d never want to be shielded from.

but tonight, he couldn’t exactly say he was too pleased when he got home.

the thunder outside roared loudly as toji stepped foot into your shared humble abode, expecting to be greeted by you within seconds. but to his surprise, you seemed to have had other plans.

the usual aroma of your perfume was absent from toji’s vicinity— you were nowhere to be found. his gruff voice echoed through the home, calling out for you as he paced around the house. kitchen? empty. living room? empty? backyard? empty. not a single sight of the presence he craved most. he assumed maybe you’d gone out for groceries or maybe with a friend for dinner— but that theory was debunked the moment he heard a faint buzzing sound coming from behind your bedroom door.

heavy footsteps stomped toward the bedroom, with a hand on the doorknob and a determined look on his face, his movements were put at a halt. a familiar symphony played behind the barricade and toji’s brain began putting the pieces together.

without another thought, his hand twisted at the doorknob, creaking it open slowly as he peeked a head into the room.

he’d finally found his wife— and god, was it a beautiful sight.

you laid flat; back against the mattress with your legs spread as far as they could be— your laced panties pulled to the side. your hands held a tiny pink toy in the shape of a rose, that same hand being between your thighs as your mouth produced strangled moans and whimpers. the man’s fist bawled beside him— angry.

he hated when you did this; masturbating. it was a reoccurring debate in your relationship, toji claiming that it was ridiculous to do so when you had a husband willing to fuck you whenever you wanted. you’d always laugh him off, finding it humorous that the simple task damaged his little ego— but you knew the rules and you knew how strictly toji felt about them — so why would you break them?

he found it captivating how you hadn’t noticed his presence. you were so clouded by bliss that you didn’t realize his tall figure now standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. it wasn’t until the startling sound of his throat clearing caught your attention. you averted your eyes to your husband— your heart beating from the build up of your orgasm and the scare of toji’s unannounced appearance.

“what're you stopping for? you like actin’ up when i’m not around, so do it now” he hissed, darkened eyes fixed on you and the small mess between your legs. you only sat there; not a single movement made. you were startled, yet still aroused.

truthfully, you thought you had a good thirty more minutes before his arrival, your impatience let your hormones get the best of you. you pout, still not saying a single word. he was overreacting. it wasn’t like you’d fucked yourself to a lousy video online; you still had your hubby in mind— you always did.

“not talkin’ to me now either? i see you’re just breakin’ all the rules tonight aren’t ya’?”

you shake your head in a ‘no’ gesture, only egging him on more from the ongoing stillness he called the silent treatment. it seemed like you blinked once and toji was removing his fastened button-up shirt, the fabric uncovering the abstract ink that spread across his chest. he then moved to his belt, slowly undoing the leather before moving to his slacks and underwear until nothing but his cock sprung free.

it was so pretty. he was girthy with some length on him; from the head to his shaft ran blue-ish veins that stuck out more when it thumped from pressure, as well as a sticky fat tip that leaked of precum that you loved licking clean.

“get your ass over here, now.”

you powered off your forbidden toy, placing it on the side of the nightstand before inching toward your straight-faced husband. he took his cock in his hand and slapped it against his tummy; his way of of telling you to get on your knees. before you could bring yourself to begin, you lifted your head to look him in the eyes, your pretty lashes flickering up at him in a pleading manner.

“t-toji i’m sorry, baby. i shouldn’t have—“

“shut the fuck up,” he interjects, breathing heavily through his nostrils, “and no hands. take it all.”

his demands weren’t exactly impossible to meet; your pouted lips part to wrap around his leaking cock, taste buds recognizing his salty substance in an instant. you began with soft kitten licks to his tip, running your tongue over the slit as a warmup. any other time, this would’ve been the usual, but as of tonight, toji wasn’t putting up with your games.

his rough hand cupped under your chin as he held your jaw open, “do it right or it’s gonna’ be worse for you. i’m not fuckin’ around, y/n. you’ve pissed me off enough.”

“i’m sorry,” you whine, placing a hand on his thigh only for him to shun it away.

“don’t apologize, get to work.”

and you did— for the second time, you took him into your mouth, the warm sensation of your throat causing toji to groan. with his hand still on your jaw, he guided your head back and forth; the sounds of your gagging making him tense up in your mouth. spit began to form in both corners of your mouth as you continued you suck and choke on his hard on.

“yeah, swallow all that shit,” he encouraged, your heart fluttering at the given praise. you tried your best to engulf him in, but due to his size your throat struggled to take him, but that didn’t stop your determination. you gagged around him, your hands resting on your thighs for balance as he vigorously fucked your face; his hands now cradling the back of your head as you tried to take more of him in.

toji didn’t fail to notice your effort. he knew he was big and that’s what made it all the more fun; seeing his pretty little wife struggle to take what’s hers. but if he had to admit it, you really were trying your best— your eyes looking up at him with hope, continuing to search for some sort of approval as your nose got closer to meeting his pelvis. you were almost there and he was so proud of you, but he couldn’t show that of course— not when he was supposed to be teaching you a lesson.

he continued to fuck your face, observing as spit and precum convered you. in guilt, he decided to give you a breather, pulling away with a string of saliva hanging from his cock. you looked so beautiful— drool pooling from your now swollen lips that ached for a kiss.

“on the bed,” was all he muttered to get you to rise from your knees. you positioned yourself on the mattress, allowing your legs to spread open so he could have a clear sight of your leaking cunt. your pussy was so pretty— and not to compare, but he’s claimed it to be the prettiest he’s ever seen; two soaking lips that held your sensitive bud between them— and don’t even him him started on the taste.

“what were you doin’ when i got home, sweetheart?” he asks, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it come from your sweet mouth instead.

“toji— please.”

“nah, tell me. what were you doin’?”

you sent him a shameful glance, embarrassed but turned on all at once. your husband had a habit of doing that during sex— watching you become flustered from just simple dirty talk; it was almost like he got off from humiliating you.

“t-touching myself,” you finally state.

“and what’d i say about that?”

your chest heaves as he reaches a hand down to touch at your lower half. he traced over the damp patch in your underwear; the exact spot being the delicate beauty of your clit.

“that if i w-wanted you..all i had to do was ask,” you stumble over your words as the man rubbed at your spot, the slow circles around the sensitive area causing you to whine.

“ah, exactly. so, you wanna’ tell me why i walked in on you being a fuckin’ slut?” he grumbles, in a calm, yet, harsh way.

“toji— i’m sorry, please, baby—“ a small pat to your cunt interrupts your jumbled sentence, toji being unpleased with your answer. you could feel his cold fingers begin to push over the fabric that shielded you.

“answer me.”

“because— fuck! i missed you. you’ve been so busy at work. i don’t know toji— i was thinking of you, only you,” you plead, eyes shutting from the small amount of pleasure. he slowly stuck his middle and ring finger into you, the cold metal of his wedding ring grazing against your walls. you let out a small sigh, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as his fingertips pushed against that sweet spot.

“and that gives you the right to be a greedy brat?” he presses. you could barely give him a clear response, the pleasure was overwhelming and the cool temperature of the room didn’t make it any better; nipples hardened and goosebumps covering your skin.

“n-no! i’m sorry, please fuck me, toji!”

he laughs, lips churning to a smile that uncovered his pearly whites, “but weren’t you just fuckin’ that silly little toy? now you want some dick— after i told you over and over again i’d be happy to make this pretty pussy cum any time of day?”

“toji- i wan’ it. i won’t ever do it again.”

toji had a love/hate for punishments. a part of him wanted to fuck you dumb as a lesson, but the other half of him wanted hold you close with his head buried into your neck, making you cream all over his cock as he as he apologizes for not tending to your needs sooner— but you had to learn one way or another.

toji pulled his fingers from your pussy, a cry escaping your lips as you yearned for his contact. his palms grabbed at your feet, pulling you toward the edge of the bed, “flip over and arch your back.”

you wasted no time doing so, making your stomach touch the cool sheets as your ass was held high in the air. toji’s cock twitched at the sight because, well…damn. he didn’t know whether it was the angle or the position, but your ass somehow looked bigger than it was when he last fucked you this way. he couldn’t believe he’d been missing out on this— your sweet, fucking pussy that just craved him and only him.

toji fully removed your panties, getting rid of the hassle of pulling them to the side. looking down, he gathered up a wad of saliva in his mouth, spitting on both his dick and your already wet cunt— lubricating you both.

“t-toji please put it in— i need it.”

“you really rushin’ me like this after how you’ve behaved? after how you’ve disrespected me,” he asks, rubbing his tip against your folds; wetness coating him.

reaching your arms back, your manicured hands spread your cheeks apart, letting him see your pretty pussy open and ready for him, “fuck me. i’ve been bad, but i-i can take it, i promise,” you hiccup, looking back at him with sweet doe eyes that held nothing but lust. toji had never seen you this way— so needy. so willing to take him without another thought in that mind of yours.

usually, you ran from dick, but tonight you needed him— bad.

you’d spent too much time away from one another. with toji working almost every day, it’s hard to get a moment to have such intimacy. he took it as disrespectful for you to please yourself, but who else would do it if he wasn’t here?

“stay like this. if you run, i’ll walk away and leave your ass here, understand?” his comment came out as a low groan due to the feeling of him finally sliding into your warmth. titling his head to the side, he watched as you nodded, sucking him in so effortlessly with your tightness. he placed his hands on top of yours that still rested on your ass; his way of holding you down while still keeping you so open.

“ooo— fuck yes, toji!”

your moan was loud as his pace was rough, but not too fast— still wanting you to adjust to his size. toji was mesmerized. between watching himself split you open to the way your ass jiggled with every thrust, he didn’t know what to focus on. you were just so pretty beneath him like this.

“pussy’s so tight. she missed me, huh? missed me stretching her out every night?” he mumbles, but it’s loud enough for you to hear, making you clench around him. toji released your hands and let them fall to your side as he gripped at your hips; his thrusts becoming more prominent with every cry, every whimper, and every moan you let fly from your lips.

“yes, yes, yes— missed you. missed you s-so much, baby,” you whine, your voice battling to compete with the sounds of rain outside the window and a queefing, sopping cunt.

“ha, look at that, she’s talkin’ to me too, y/n.”

although you couldn’t see him, you knew there was a smirk expanding across his face. he was fucking you so good. you could barely ponder a single thought in your pretty little head. your mouth was hung open with your tits pressed against the mattress as he drilled into you like never before— it was all so much at once.

“take it, take it all. feel me fuckin’ you? it’s better than a toy ain’t it? yeah, i know it is,” he grunts. you could feel your orgasm approaching, the curve of his length kissing your g-spot over and over again. just when you were about to release, toji pulled out, standing on the back of his heels while slapping his tip on your cheek— an aggravated moan leaving you.

“toj— what the fuck? w-why would you—“ your complaints were cut off by a loud slap! sound. the stinging gesture to your ass making you jump.

“watch your mouth, y/n. fuck me back and stop bein’ lazy.” he utters, watching as you adjust your arch.

with your hands stretched in front of you, your fingers tightly hold the sheets as you begin to move up and down his dick, a creamy white liquid staining him. toji stumbled back a bit at how hard you were trying, your ass pushing against him damn near making him cum at just a few movements.

“just like that, sweetheart. there you fuckin’ go.”

“toji— daddy, im gonna’ cum!” you cry, your actions becoming faster when you realize toji is following your pace, fucking himself into you while grabbing the plush of your sides. he could feel you pulling him in as you reached for your second climax.

“hold it.”

“but— toji, please i’m—“ you plea, reaching back to grab at his arm for support only for him to slap it away and tell you to take it. you squeezed and clamped around him like you were holding on for dear life; and he loved it. the deep strokes he was giving you were degrading and you were eating them all up.

“gonna’ cum on this dick? hm? gonna’ wet my shit up?” he expresses, watching the motion of your ass crash back on him.

so fucking pretty.

“y-yes! i’m gonna’ cum. aah— baby, i’m- oh my—fuck!”

once you finally came down, small sighs and whimpers could be heard coming from you. toji slowly slid out of you, your pussy making an airy, gape noise as you set him loose.

“can you give me another one?” he whispers against your ear, and you nod— letting him flip you onto your back. toji could now see your face; it’s in an exhausted state, eyes batting as you struggle to keep them open to return his gaze. you looked so pretty. honest truth, he didn’t think he’d last very long doing this position tonight.

“yes, i can give y-you one more. please, i wanna’ make you cum, toji.”

for the first time tonight, toji placed a chaste kiss on your lips. you didn’t exactly know what changed. he went from fucking you with no remorse as a punishment to being gentle and attentive to your quivering body.

“spread your legs angel.”

you obeyed, toji assisting you by propping your legs onto his shoulders. this way, he could hit it deeper, harder— if you asked. he tapped his cock onto your clit a few times, fomenting your already quivering thighs.

“look at me when i put it in,” he demands. your eyes quickly opened to peer up at your husband— you could now see the man you’ve missed so much; forehead sticky, a thin silver chain around his neck that you liked to hold between your teeth as he fucked you, and a set of tattoos that covered most of his chest— astonishing.

the feeling of toji’s dick sliding into you was something you’d always crave. his breaths were shaky and his grunts were loud.

“shit, pussy’s so fuckin’ wet just for me, huh? all for me.”

“daddy—fuck, you feel so good.”

he lets out a breathy laugh, “yeah? you like when i fuck you like this?” he inquires, thrusts becoming more fleeting as time went on. you held on tightly to his forearms that were planted beside you, clawing at the veins that ran up them.

“harder, toji.”

thankfully, he was one of the good ones who knew the dissimilarity between faster and harder; his dick ramming into you like a hammer on nails. and you took it so well, with your tits bouncing and your head thrown back, sucking in harsh breaths of air while crying out his name like a prayer.

“keep screamin’,” he grunts, lowering his body down to your neck, biting a licking at the skin in an attempt to leave a mark, “let em’ know who’s pussy this is.”

“it’s yours, toji. it’s only yours— i-i love you, please cum in me.”

toji’s hands moved from the side of you to your tear stained cheeks to caress them, holding your face in his hands as he rocked into you making your body jolt.

“i love you too, beautiful. you’re gonna’ make me cum n’ breed that pussy, you want that? hm?” he asks, more so as consent than opposed to dirty talk. you rapidly nod your head, wrapping your hands around his wrists while staring deeply into his drowsy eyes.

you lifted your head a little to plant kisses onto his scarred lip, noses touching and grazing against one another as your tongues battled for control. it was messy, it was steamy, and most importantly, it was love.

“ssss’ fuck— i’m cummin’ baby. aah, shit.”

he hissed his last few moans while still fucking you senseless, your third orgasm coming over you in a wave of pleasure; juices you hadn’t seen in a while spurting all over his stomach. although he’d already came, he continued to fuck into you until you were breathless and weak under his touch, shaking from the overwhelming force.

he soon pulled out of you completely, removing your legs from his shoulders and laying his enormous body on top of your smaller one. your foreheads were touching and you were all out of breath, basking in one another’s devotion. the two of you stayed that way for a while, toji hugging and kissing at the sweaty skin of your chest and stomach.

“toji,” you say barely above a whisper.

“are you alright, angel? did i hurt you?”

you smile at his concern, his bushy eyebrows furrowing, “no, i’m okay. you’re just the only man i know that would ever be jealous of an inanimate object,” you laugh.

“y’know, i can’t really be jealous. i haven’t exactly been as present as you’ve liked me to be and i apologize for that.”

you place a kiss on his lips while grinning at his sincerity. you knew he didn’t mean any harm, and after all, he was working to please and give you the life you deserved.

“if you really want me to stop using the toy i’ll get rid of it,” you suggest, only to have him shut you up with a smack on your thigh.

“nah, maybe i can use it on you sometime. have a competition to see who can make you cum first,” he jokes, earning a small giggle from you.

“you’re so annoying.”

“only for you, my love. only for you.”

#saaturnowrites #toji x y/n #toji x black y/n #toji x black reader #toji x reader #jjk #toji smut #jjk smut #toji fushiguro

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genshin-obsessed · 1 year

Note

May I request HSR boys receiving a bouquet of flowers as a gift from their s/o?

✩ Ooh yesss! This sounds so cute plus I need to do some writing for hsr ^w^ I hope you like it, friend <3 ✩ Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, Welt, Sampo, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, and Blade.

You hid the bouquet of flowers behind your back and knocked on your boyfriend's dor. You heard a voice tell you to come in, which made you open the door and walk inside.

"Oh, (y/n)." He said with surprise, "what do you need?"

"I brought you something!" You said with a smile, walking over to him and revealing the bouquet of flowers. They were arranged beautifully and the sweet aroma was intense.

✩⭒ Caelus ⭒✩

You got him flowers?! For real?! He is melting, bestie.

Honestly, his eyes are wide and his cheeks are bright red.

"They're beautiful, (n/n)." He said as he took the bouquet from you, his fingers brushing against yours as he brought the bouquet to his nose and smelled them. "Oh, they smell so good."

Caelus has *never* gotten flowers before, not that he could even remember but he's sure he hasn't. He doesn't even know what to say except 'thank you'.

It makes him feel so good. Every single time he sees the flowers in their cute little vase, his heart pounds in his chest and he just gets this overwhelming feeling of happiness.

Caelus takes such good care of the flowers. The saddest part was when they wilted, like he literally was so sad all day.

You bought him another bouquet very soon after.

✩⭒ Dan Heng ⭒✩

His eyes widen and he just freezes. The flowers were bright green and they were just so... beautiful.

"F-for me...? Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! Why wouldn't I be?" You asked with a smile.

"Well..." He'd never gotten flowers before. He slowly reached out and took them, inhaling the sweet scent before hugging them a little. "They're beautiful, thank you."

Dan Heng takes really good care of them. He'll make sure to get a little sun lamp thing since there's no sun on the train. He also keeps them in his sights and waters them every single day.

He'll even talk to them, but he'll never tell you that.

Honestly, even after the flowers wilt and are gone, he still thinks about them. He'd never gotten flowers before. Of course, you picked up on it and bought him some more!

✩⭒ Welt ⭒✩

He was shocked when he saw the flowers. Honestly, Welt was a little embarrassed because he should've been getting you flowers, not the other way around.

He gracefully takes the flowers, leaning down and giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, my love. They're absolutely beautiful."

Welt finds the most beautiful vase for them and makes sure they're well taken care of. He even gets those little powder packets that help flower longevity and changes the water often.

When he gets a chance, he actually get you a bouquet of flowers too. He tries to get one that matches his- not exactly, but complimentary.

Honestly, it just turns into a bouquet war. You two try to one up each other giving each other even fancier bouquets.

The entire astral express just swoons. You two are so freaking cute sometimes.

Welt was actually really sad when that first bouquet wilted and had to be tossed out. He felt like a teeny piece of him died.

✩⭒ Sampo ⭒✩

First of all, Sampo was super shocked because he's usually the one showering you in gifts. Like he froze up.

His brain short-circuited right then and there. You almost thought he disliked your gift, but before you knew it, he snatched the flowers out of your hand and hugged them.

"This is the most beautiful gift ever! I love them, thank you so much (n/n)!" He leaned in and kissed you without missing a beat.

You stiffened but happily returned it, feeling relief that he actually liked the flowers.

Honestly, Sampo stares at them all day and tells every person he knows. He took pictures with them and just shows them off. "My s/o got me these, aren't they beautiful."

Sampo has to outdo you. Sorry, but he's the simp- not you. So, he buys the best, the biggest, the most fabulous bouquet of flowers in the entirety of... well his abilities.

Of course, you just bought him another bouquet which honestly just took him out. Like how can you spoil him like that?

✩⭒ Gepard ⭒✩

"F-for me? Why?" Gepard's face is bright red and he can barely look at you for a moment. No one's every gotten him flowers before.

Honestly, he's a little embarrassed but he's quite happy and the flowers are absolutely beautiful.

"Are you sure you like them? They're a little-"

"No! They're beautiful."

He takes extremely good care of them, but the entire time, he's trying to get a fancy bouquet for you too.

He tells anyone and everyone. Honestly, there are silvermane guards talking about "did you see the bouquet of flowers our captain got from his partner?"

He went through the 5 stages of grief when the flowers died. Buried them and all, honestly.

✩⭒ Jing Yuan ⭒✩

You had gotten him the fanciest bouquet you could. It was so big that you could barely hide it behind your back. So, of course, he easily noticed.

It was probably one of the few times you've seen him so flustered. Flowers? For him? Really?

Jing Yuan had them in his office and stared at them pretty much all day. Anyone who even looked toward them, he was explaining how you got them for him.

Of course, Jing Yuan can't take this gift laying down, he's gotta hit back with something even fancier!

However, you getting him flowers means the world to him. Why? No one's ever done it before. He's one of the seven Arbiter-Generals and so people don't get him flowers. They get him expensive gifts like relics, vases, paintings- things like that. Simple flowers, though? Never.

He cherishes the flowers you got them, long after they wilt and are thrown away. He still remembers what they look like and it still warms his heart.

Say what you will, but nothing you ever give him could possibly outdo the flowers. That's how much he loves them. No offense-

✩⭒ Luocha ⭒✩

This man- he's tearing up in private. Sadly, men aren't gifted flowers because they're a "feminine" gift for some damn reason? Like? Maybe he wanted some flowers. Tulips, roses, freakin chrysanthemums- don't matter.

He adores the flowers. Honestly, like he took a picture and put it in his favorites. He wasn't even embarrassed. You weren't sure if he'd like them, but he showed them off so much.

Since that day, you bought him a flower as much as you could. Not a whole bouquet, but every few days, you'd gift Luocha a flower.

He often kept it on his person, like in his pocket or something. He did want to put it in a vase, but the thing is... he wanted it with him.

Anyway, he came up with good solution. The first day, he carries the flower with him. Then, he keeps it in a teeny single flower vase.

Ever since that day, if you ever ask Luocha what he wants as a gift (just to know what to get him), he'll always say flowers. Even though you get him flowers every few days, he still wants more.

At this point, you can just stick a flower in his hair and he'll melt.

✩⭒ Blade ⭒✩

Blade... likes them.

He's a man of few words, so all he really did was take the flowers and smell them. But he stared for a few moments, before the tiniest hint of a smile crossed his face.

"Thank you. They're beautiful." He leaned in and gave you a kiss on the cheek before going to find a vase to put them in.

Blade is not shy about telling the others who gave him those flowers. They're beautiful, you gave them to him, and he loves them.

Blade actually learned about the flowers you got him; they were hibiscus flowers. Honestly, they're so beautiful, he can't stop staring. He keeps equating them to you- like... flowers = his (y/n).

The way his heart fluttered when you gave him those flowers makes him wonder if you'll feel the same way. So, the next time, he buys you a bouquet.

Then it just turns into a bouquet gifting war between you two and honestly... it's the cutest ever.

#honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr blade x reader #welt x reader #hsr sampo x reader #gepard x reader #luocha x reader #hsr caelus x reader #dan heng x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail fluff

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porkcutletbowl44 · 3 months

Text

Simon x Goth!Reader minishot🖤

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

Warnings!: taxidermy mention, fluff 🕷️

Fem pronouns!

(I'm sorry if y'all hate this but this idea lives rent free in my brain! it's literally so cute and sweet)

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚.

"Aye, my sis wants ta go to a rave... I ain't gonnae let mah sis go alone, so let's tag along!" Soap had told him, what Simon didn't know was how crowded it was. How loud everything was, the flashing lights, the music and how...different it was.

It was nothing like the places he was used to go. In the rave, people were jumping around, dancing carelessly to the rhythm of the song, shouting in excitement. It was so loud that he almost couldn't even think straight.

It was chaotic in a way he wasn't used to it, he wasn't even sure why Soap dragged him in this place. Why he would even agree to join Soap on this ridiculous adventure? Soap was very capable of watching over just one of his sisters.

He hated every single thing of it; it was overwhelming him. He never fit in any kind of gathering but this one was on a whole new level.

All those people in this place were acting careless and free, they acted like there wasn't a care in the world. He watched them from the corner of his eye, these people were so different than regular people on the street, in a pub, or even in a store. He even began wondering whether he was just getting too old for these kinds of things, not understanding this style and "lingo."

The music's beat was thumping through the stadium speakers, it vibrated across his body and practically raddled his jaw to his skull. It was almost impossible to ignore the sound, the way it made him pulse to the rhythm of the bass. The lights were flashing, sending all sorts of colors across his vision.

He could feel himself starting to feel warm, and he clenched his fists, trying to ignore the way his mind was wandering to ditch his teammate. He felt a slight irritation that Soap had forced him to be here, as if to prove to himself that he wasn't as 'boring' as he claimed to be.

But this was too much for his introverted and solitary self.

He shifted his gaze to look away from the crowd, and his eyes fell on you. Just to the far right, you stood calmly on the side lines nodding away with the music without a care in the world, in your own little bubble of content happiness.

He stared at you, and his eyebrows slightly twitched.

He couldn't get himself to look away from you, you looked so different yet the same to all those people around, so peaceful and calm, like an oasis of calm within the sea of frenzy. Even with your makeup of black and white, you looked so beautiful, something he has never seen before.

He felt his heart race, but he couldn't tell why. Maybe because you were alone? no, no...you weren't acting suspicious, why was he so nervous?

He comes over warily, unsure what to even say. You were dressed like everyone else too, the clothes, the makeup of white and black, bats and spider webs adoring your style. With each step, he felt his heart accelerate. Why? He didn't know. As he got closer, he observed how different you were from anyone he's ever seen.

He observed the way your eyes were outlined by black eye liner, the way your clothes wrapped your body, the way the silver jewelry shined against your neck and wrists.

He found it all attractive and fascinating for some reason.

He took a deep breath, clenching his fist as he approached. The thought of striking up even a casual conversation made him uncomfortable. But you were so captivating; something about you drew him in like a moth to a flame. He took a moment to study your style, the bats and spider webs, a crazy yet tame hairdo, your layered clothes of black and grey accentuating the aesthetic. Not to mention, it was hard to miss the little bones on your belt around your waist.

He swallowed the tension in his throat before he finally spoke, his voice a whisper over the music.

"Quiet corner you picked for yourself."

You looked over with a kind smile, your movements ceasing with your attention.

"It's less crowded, can see the stage better too." You pointed, but he could give a fuck less than to look over at the stage when you were standing right in front of him.

Your smile was enough to disarm him, and he found his tense shoulders relaxing. He nodded in acknowledgment of your words, the bright lights flashing over your persons in a strobing flash to the beat.

"Aye, less crowded," He murmured, trying to make small talk, but it felt unnatural to him.

"You come here often?"

You giggled with a hand over your lips, nodding. He thinks you might be blushing under the makeup.

"Every weekend! How about you?" You asked kindly, completely ignoring how Simon could literally be a fucking serial killer, completely shoving aside the fact this man was a man crossed over with a damn Ox and could literally tear a person limb from limb.

He found himself enjoying the sound of your laughter, the way you smiled in that infectious way, how you easily spoke to him as if he was another person you come across every day.

He tried his best not to sound as stiff as he normally did, but it was proving harder than he thought.

"Me?" He raised an eyebrow. "First time." He admitted, his voice a few notches above what it usually was. Maybe he shouldn't try and scare you, so far you've been polite.

"Really?" You exclaimed in surprise, eyeing him in curiosity. "I never would of guessed! I was just about to say how sick your mask is!" You kindly shouted over the music.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at the compliment, his cheeks staring to simmer with low heat under his balaclava. He wasn't used to receiving compliments, much less on his choice of attire.

"Thanks," he replied, trying to sound casual, but he couldn't help feeling a little bit pleased.

"Most people just find it weird," he mumbled, running a hand over the mask, and secretly he was relieved that you seemed to like it.

"'Weird'? You're at a goth rave! Everyone is weird!" You brushed off so obviously, giving him a funny look. Not the bad kind, like he should know better, but like you were reassuring him.

He looked over the sea of peculiar faces around, all the odd individuals who seemed to revel in the strangeness of the moment.

"Guess you're right about that," he said, turning his attention back to you. "In that case, I guess I just blend right in."

"You do! Fit right in, no one would guess it's your first!" You agreed in a sweet voice.

He felt a warmth in his chest. It was strange to have someone, especially a literal stranger, make him feel so comfortable in a place that he was out of his element. And you were being so sweet, so genuine, not at all intimidated by his large and intimidating figure. You rambled about how they play good goth music here, asking if he's ever listened to any goth music or if maybe he could potentially find a band he'd like. He happily listened, not knowing what the fuck a "baby bat" was or what dance moves were what when you pointed to people in the crowd.

It was... nice, in a way he could hardly describe.

He smiled again, a small but genuine one this time.

"Thanks," he replied. He paused for a moment, then added, "I guess I owe Soap one."

He then realized that you had no idea who Soap was, also the strange look you give him, and nodding away to be polite. You don't even push it either.

"Soap's my friend," he explained, feeling embarrassed and awkward. "He's the one who dragged me here, against my will." His cheeks were positively blazing under his mask, thinking about how he was being such a git.

"Cool nickname!" You remarked casually, entertaining his conversation and lack of communication skills.

"Yeah, I guess it is," He agreed, thinking back on how strange Soap's callsign must sound to someone who had no context.

"It's actually a call sign," he added, trying to fill in the blanks for you. "We're both—" he broke off then, realizing he was about to reveal more than he should, to some random woman in a rave.

"Sorry, what was that?" You politely asked, leaning forward with a welcoming smile. The music was loud, the sound waves crashing against Simon's chest with every rhythm.

He paused, feeling a wave of hesitance at the question. He had let his guard down, and now he was almost about to give away sensitive information to a total stranger. But, maybe he didn't have to make is sensitive information, it's not like you were a spy or a terrorist. You were just a regular civilian, enjoying the weekend.

But he saw your smile, and he could sense the genuine curiosity in your voice, and he found himself unable to stop.

"We're both in the military," he finally admitted, keeping his voice low. "Special Forces, actually."

"No shit? That's awesome! Thanks for your service!"

Your enthusiasm and gratitude caught him off guard, and he found himself awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn't used to being thanked for what he did, and it made him feel a little more embarrassed.

"Cheers," he replied, feeling strangely bashful. "It's just a job, innit? Nothing special."

"Military is scary stuff, no? Takes guts." You giggled.

He chuckled at your assessment, feeling a little bit flattered.

"Aye, it's not for the faint-hearted," he conceded. "But it's nothing I can't handle." He flexed his biceps as he crosses his arm, as if to emphasize his own strength and toughness. Maybe he could impress you, make you swoon, and probably land a number or something.

You're so different, kind and carefree, so...unjudging.

"You must work hard!" You remarked.

"Every day, we train hard," he said, thinking back on all the endless drills, the early rising, and the exhausting exercises they went through, his second life in the gym.

He eyed you, taking in the way you seemed so unbothered by his intimidating figure.

"How about you? What do you do?" he asked, hoping to turn the conversation towards you.

He couldn't help it. You were so easy to talk to, so friendly, he just wanted to keep talking.

You sighed slightly, taking on a nonchalant stature and keeping your enthusiasm.

"I work in a oddity shop. Bones, wet specimens, framed insects and stuff."

He cocked his head to the side. Simon certainly wasn't expecting that, but it was fitting.

"An oddity shop?" He repeated, a mixture of amusement and curiosity in his tone. "Quite the choice of career. Unusual, innit?"

He couldn't help but wonder what kind of peculiar things you must deal with daily, and how comfortable you must be with the idea of death.

"It's peaceful, handling things that are forever at rest." You held up a charm around your neck, a small little bottle with something inside—

"This is my wolf spider specimen!"

He leaned closer to get a better look, now intrigued by the object around your neck. It...was a literal spider. Encased in some kind of resin or fluid.

"A spider," he noted, studying the small bottle carefully. "Looks...different, I reckon."

He couldn't help but think that the choice of a spider was a bit strange, but hey, who was he to judge? Everyone had their own quirks.

"And a scorpion," you'd show off your bracelet, a thick charm encasing a scorpion in its forever prison.

"A scorpion, eh?" he commented, half impressed and half creeped out. "Quite a few dead animals you got hangin' 'round you. Got any more?"

"Nope, but back at the shop we got this big ass jar holding a Fruit Bat." You emphasized with your hands, showing the size and shape with enthusiasm.

"A fruit bat, eh?" he repeated, trying to picture a jar holding such an animal, trying to imagine it with the demonstrated size you gave. "And big, too, by the looks of it."

He paused, then added, "Don't suppose you keep anything that's livin', do you?"

"I have a cat!" You mentioned kindly, "He's very much alive too;" you pulled out your little skull wallet, showing a picture of your black cat in one of the sleeves.

He hadn't expected to find something as adorable as a little black cat on your person, but then again, you seemed like a walking contradiction. Sweet, kind, and death-obsessed.

"Cute," he said, his voice suddenly softer as he studied the photo. "Looks like a little bundle of chaos incarnate."

He couldn't help but smile slightly when you showed him the picture of your cat. The contrast between the skull wallet and the cute cat photo was both amusing and endearing.

"What's its name, then?"

"Bones," you replied fondly.

He paused, imagining a cute cat named 'Bones'.

"Bones? Like the dead ones you keep in jars and stuff?" He teased, a smirk playing on his lips. "Seems a bit on the nose, eh?"

"It's cute!" You arguably protested.

He held his hands up in mock surrender, enjoying your playful banter.

"Alright, alright," he caved in, grinning beneath his mask. "It's cute, then. A cute cat with a weird owner who likes weird things."

Maybe it was fitting too, cats did bring dead things to their owners. Maybe your cat had brought a bunch of dead little animals for you to stuff in a jar, or keep the bones for work and that's how the little guy got his name.

"And yet you're still here talking to the weird owner." You teased.

He chuckled, feeling more and more relaxed by the second with your personality. He wasn't used to people being so unafraid of his intimidating presence.

"You got me there," he conceded, "Suppose I must be a little weird myself, then, to be standing here with a bird who keeps dead things as jewelry."

He found himself captivated by how carefree and unapologetic you were about your unique interests. It was refreshing and slightly mesmerizing to see someone so content in their own skin. You were so unabashedly yourself, completely unbothered by what others thought. It was a stark contrast to his own reserved and secretive demeanor, where he was always conscious of how he was perceived.

He found himself wanting to ask you more, more about you, more about your life. He wanted to understand how you could be so unapologetically yourself.

But he held back, afraid to delve too deeply.

You eyes widened, pointing at the sleeve of war-ridden tattoos on his skin.

"Nice tattoos! Skulls and shit? Yeah, you totally fit in!"

He looked slightly alarmed for a split second, before he relaxed and took your compliment.

"Yeah, skulls and stuff," he confirmed, trying to sound casual. "Got em' during my service in the military."

He glanced down at his sleeve, the intricate ink designs sprawling over his skin. It was a stark reminder of his past, one that he was reminded of every time he looked at them.

"Thanks," he replied, his voice a little rough. "I've got a few, I suppose."

He raised an eyebrow at your next comment, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Do I fit in, then? I thought I was sticking out like a sore thumb 'ere."

You laughed again, shooting your hand out and giving your name—kindly, gentle and welcoming.

He blinked at the suddenness of your gesture, and for a moment he hesitated. Sharing names felt oddly personal, like an unwarranted intimacy.

But your welcoming gesture and the way you introduced yourself so easily won him over. He reached out and took your hand, his own large and calloused hand enveloping yours completely.

The contrast between your small, soft hand and his rough, large one was jarring.

But there was something about you, something that made him feel at ease.

"Ghost," he responded.

You smirked slightly, nodding.

"Military stuff?" You asked.

"Military stuff," he confirmed, a smirk playing on his lips beneath the mask.

He appreciated your lack of probing, your willingness to let the conversation take a natural route. It was refreshing, to talk without feeling questioned or judged. He found himself feeling relaxed in your company, his usual guard lowering a bit.

"So, you like dark stuff, I wager?" he asked, gesturing to your oddity shop job and the accessories you wore.

"Seems like you also have a knack for it too," you pointed out, gesturing to your face to mirror his, the skull mask, tattoos, black war paint.

He chuckled, admiring your witty remark. You were observant; he had to give you that.

"Guess I do," he admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Never thought about it like that before."

He ran a hand over his mask, feeling the ridges and bumps of the skull figure.

"I don't do it for fun, though. It's... practical."

"Why not make it fun?" You shrugged.

He paused for a moment, considering your casual response. Make it fun? He hadn't thought about it like that before.

"I suppose you could," he agreed, a note of curiosity in his voice. "But in my line of work, it's not always the best idea to draw attention."

He leaned forward slightly, a smirk on his lips. He feels comfortable now, gaining his confidence back.

"Besides, I don't think my superiors would appreciate it if I turned up to a mission in a skeleton onesie."

You giggled, shaking your head at the obscene thought. You fished out a card from your wallet, giving it to him.

"Come by the oddity shop. We have lots of accessories, maybe you can switch out the mask for another, we have tons of stuff."

He took the card from you, feeling an odd sense of warmth as your fingers brushed against his. He looked down at the card, reading the shop's name and address. He couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue at your offer.

"Maybe I will," he replied with a sly innuendo, "Seems like you've got quite the variety. I'm not sure if I'd fit in with your other customers, though."

"Don't worry, I've had worse come through. The goth community embraces all weirdness and odd people." You smiled at him.

He chuckled at your casual reassurance. It was true, he figured; a shop like yours probably did attract a fair share of 'odd' characters. He found himself admiring your ability to make him feel at ease, despite the obvious oddities of your persona. You were unapologetic in your interests and unapologetic in how you dealt with others as well.

He tucked the card into a pocket, feeling a sense of curiosity he hadn't experienced in a long while. He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Here, in this weird and wonderful crowd, he felt like he could just... exist.

No stares, no whispers, no judgment—just acceptance of the strange and unusual. It was a strange, liberating feeling, to fit in somewhere he never expected. He allowed himself to relax a bit, his usual stiff stance softening slightly as he observed the quirky people around him.

He watched as a group of people with wildly colored hair and mismatched clothes gathered around and dance together, smooth, slow, yet wild movements. A girl with a buzzcut sporting a leather jacket and an array of piercings was talking amongst other people, holding up skull-themed earrings from her earlobe and giggling to herself.

A group of teenagers, all clad in black, were huddled together, trading bracelets and showing dance moves. This gothic music festival, with its dark and strange aura, was more welcoming than he expected...maybe he didn't dislike it so much after all. Here, amidst the sea of darkly dressed individuals, he felt a sense of acceptance he rarely experienced elsewhere.

He had thought he would stand out, a stark and stoic figure in the crowd, but the truth was quite different. Here, his oddities were just another part of the aesthetic, another shade amidst the shadows. Who would have thought he'd find such a sense of belonging in a sea of black clothes and alternative styles?

The atmosphere was different here, more inclusive and accepting. He wasn't singled out as an oddity; for once, he was just another face in the crowd. He decided to embrace the experience, allowing himself to enjoy the music and the company around him.

"You mentioned accessories," he said, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "You've got something that could outdo my mask, then?"

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