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twilghtkoo · 9 months ago

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pairings. jungkook x bookworm!reader (f)

genre/aus. fluff, established relationship

warnings. the word smut gets mentioned, jk in that fit

note. i’m a huge book lover and have been busy consuming all romance books in my free time and one part of my brain is just jungkook and another part is filled with all the romantic scenes that happen in the books i read and this idea came up :D lmk if u want more jk x bookworm!reader drabbles i actually loved writing this one so enjoy my brain rot,, likes and reblogs are appreciated ! stay safe <3

[ masterlist ]

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“how’d you find this place, we’ve never been in this one.” jungkook notes, observes the surroundings of the small book store you both entered. floor to ceiling shelves filled with literature and writing of every genre, in different colors and sizes. warm yellow lighting from the lights in the ceiling and the battery operated candles that are placed randomly throughout the store. there’s greenery scattered along the walls and potted plants on the floor and one next to the register, creating a familiar, welcoming environment.

you can’t help but smile when you walk in. “i took a different route home from class last week and saw this place. i wanted to wait to go with you.” you answer, greeting the woman behind the counter with a soft smile.

you feel his hand blindly reach for yours from behind, you first find his pinky then interlace your fingers with his.

“it feels homey in here.” he thinks aloud, as both of you walk by a red worn out couch.

you lead him through the aisles one by one, not having any interest in the specific genres besides your favorite, but looking at the filled shelves brings you comfort.

“oh! they have comics here.” he points to the aisle across from you and now he’s taking the lead.

a comforting silence falls between you both as you skim through each shelf organized by the marvel universe, dc comics, video games and manga. from the corner of your eye, you see jungkook holding a manga in his hand.

“when was the last time you read one?”

he sighs, “i think when i was young, probably about six years ago to be honest. i don’t really have time now.” he slightly pouts at his statement.

you place your hand on his lower back before rubbing soothing circles. “i know you’ve read that one before. haikyuu,” you read the title out loud.

he nods, closing the book and placing it back with the others. “yeah i read like the first few volumes but never finished it.”

you both look throughout the manga selection some more before you manage to talk him into buying at least two volumes of jujutsu kaisen.

he holds the two books in one hand and holds your hand in his other.

you make it to the romance aisle, and immediately take your time looking around. you always feel overwhelmed in the bookstore and feel like you’re taking too long looking in just one section but jungkook always assures you to take your time and look, that he’s not in a rush.

you pick up a book and examine the cover and pages before reading the back, humming to yourself if one peaked your interest but not enough to hold onto it.

“do these have smut in them?” he blurts out next to you.

your eyes go big and you smack him on the arm. you look at the bright neon green sticky note that’s taped to the shelf with the word ‘spicy’. did they have to make it known to the world?

“would you be quiet?” you whisper-yell at him, trying to contain your laughter.

he rubs his arm where you hit him as his eyes blink innocently. liar.

he lets go of his arm and giggles, pulling you close to his side and kisses the crown of your head. “just messing with you.” he smirks.

you scoff, pushing him away lightly but failing because your boyfriend is 5’10 and muscles.

he lets you continue to look around and he does the same but not with a purpose. but he knows if he pretends to busy himself, you won’t feel rushed. and he wants you to take your time.

by the time you reached the end of the romance aisle, you’re holding two books in your hands. one hardcover and one paperback.

“that’s it? only two books you found?” jungkook stares in disbelief, his eyebrow arched.

“a hardcover is expensive.” you tell him. there were other books you found and wanted, but now that you know this place is here, you’ll stop by again one of these days after class and come back for them if they’re still here.

“babe, go get all the books you want.” he waves you off, but you stay put.

shaking your head, “no, i’ll come back for them one of these days after my classes.”

“go get them now.”

“kook, it’s okay.”

��i know it is, but i want to get them for you anyway. you got a new bookcase with more shelves and you need to fill it up.” he says, peering down at you softly but he’s not giving up.

you did get a new shelf, with your paycheck you decided to spoil yourself and get a new one that had five shelves instead of your three. you had a growing collection and you had a tower of books on your floor. you needed a proper space for them.

you bite your lip. “yeah, but i don’t want you-“

he interrupts you by placing his lips on yours, moving against your lips for only two seconds.

the kiss was so abrupt that it had you in a daze.

“go get the books, hardcover or not. i don’t care yn.” he used your name. not babe or baby.

you sigh in defeat, knowing you lost this battle. jungkook offers to hold your books and you let him, you went back for the books you wanted and carefully stacked them onto his hands. it was only ten books you found, but the stack reached to his chest and you felt bad.

“don’t give me that look, baby.” he tells you as you both make your way up to the front to pay.

the lady’s eyes go wide at the tower of books in his hands, but doesn’t say nothing and scans everything.

you inch closer to his side as the lady tells him the total and it makes you gasp. but jungkook is relaxed as the lady asks if we wanted to sign up to become a member and he doesn’t even bother to ask me as he gives her my number for the future. he finishes by tapping his card onto the machine and grabbing the two bags of books.

you thank the lady and you both leave the store. the sky now different shades of blue, orange and red.

“thank you kook, i really appreciate you.” you tell him thoughtfully, sliding your arm through his and holding onto it. he glances down at you with a soft smile, his piercings shining under the sunset.

he hums. “i love you.”

“i love you.”

#twilghtkoo #jeon jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenarios #jungkook oneshot #jungkook fluff #boyfriend!jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts drabble

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estxkios · 7 months ago

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ROAD HEAD ੈ✩‧₊˚

2007 tom kaulitz x fem!reader

summary: tom is annoying the shit out of you on a road trip so u teach him a lesson :3

warnings: sub tom, risky, semi-sublic blowjobb

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your boyfriend was annoying the shit out of you. you had been in the car with him for thirteen hours at this point.

he thought it would be fun to go on a road trip instead of a plane, saying, “It will be a new experience!” and, “It would be a good time for us to bond!”

“we aren’t already bonded enough?” you would retort.

and now you are here. in the passenger seat longing to get out of this hot, crammed car.

you don’t know how you can last six more hours in this enclosed space with him.

you asked him for aux?

ignored?

you ask him for some of his candy?

he shoves it in his mouth, smiling at you as he finishes the last bite.

what has gotten into him? was it the lack of sleep from the previous night of driving? was it the coffee from the hotel?

“tom you are so fucking annoying today!”

you shout over his loud music as he had turned it up the last time you asked for him to play a different song.

“suck my dick!” he shouts between the lyrics he was obnoxiously singing.

he dances around playfully in his seat and you huff, turning away from him and crossing your arms.

your thoughts start to linger as you stare at the open road, your eyes following cars as they pass by.

what would it be like to suck toms dick right now? would it suck the annoyingness out of him too?

jesus christ, maybe the hotel coffee was getting to you too.

or maybe it was just the urge to fuck your boyfriend.

“do you really want me to, tom?” you spoke over his music.

“do i really— what?”, he turned to you for a moment, giving you a perplexed stare and turning the volume of his music down before looking back onto the road.

“do you really want me to suck your dick?” you blatantly said, staring right at tom, who kept his gaze fixed on the road in front of him.

“babe— what?” he repeated.

“jesus christ you are fuckin’ deaf,” you let out a breathy laugh to yourself at toms confusion, “let me just show you—“

unbuckling your seatbelt, you climb over the center console and snake yourself towards toms seat, situating yourself under the steering wheel, between toms legs.

tom was shifting in confusion as you did this, muttering small what the fuck?'s under his breath.

“babe, what’re you doing..?” his voice trailed off as he connected the dots.

you grabbed the waist of his sweatpants, he lifted his hips up to make it easier for you to take them off, he was very compliant for someone acting so confused.

“what if someone sees us?!” he diverts his gaze away from the road as he says this.

“they will get jealous that you have such an amazing girlfriend.”

he scoffed.

you took his boxers off.

tom gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles so white they were nearly blue.

he sucked in a shallow breath between his teeth and swallowed thickly, the sight of your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock was enough to make him cum.

you kept up your fast, desperate pace with your mouth.

he tasted so fucking good.

you moaned around toms beautifully hard cock as you moved your head forward, taking tom all the way.

he took one hand off of the wheel, bringing it down the back of your head and taking a fist full of your hair.

he held your head down on his sweet cock, making your muscles constrict around toms cock as you gagged, your eyes watering.

he let out a guttural moan as you fully took in his pretty length.

“f-fuck baby im s’close!” he takes his hand off of your head, too lost in the pleasure to hold it there any longer.

he tried to keep his eyes open as his climax neared.

you take your mouth of off him with a ‘pop!’

“why’d y’stop?” he whined, looking down at you then hastily looking back up. “you tease me too much..”

“aww, sweet boy can’t take a little bit of fun?” you chuckled, looking straight into his eyes which stayed on the road. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was actually focusing on driving, or if he was too embarrassed to look you in the eyes.

but your attention quickly diverted from his eyes onto his cock as it twitched, just longing for your touch.

tom bit his bottom lip, fidgeting with his lip ring.

his hands kept a tight grip on the steering wheel, which he tried so hard to keep from snaking down towards his cock and pleasuring himself.

you couldn’t help but smile at how patient he was being.

“hey, tom.” you said casually, “look at me.”

he did as you said, reluctantly “wha-?”

you quickly gripped his cock and brought it towards your mouth, using all the strength in your body to suck him off perfectly.

you swirled your tongue around him, flattening it out every so often.

“holyfuckingshit!” he breathed, “im so fucking close--! mphh- please!”

he was so sensitive he could cum any second now.

you knew it.

he definitely knew it.

you pushed the most of toms cock in your mouth as you could, and with one final moan of your name tom shot his hot seed right into the back of your throat.

the pressure of the seatbelt on toms abdomen as he strained his hips made him whine as he rode out his intense high.

he threw his head against the seat, jaw hanging slack.

his body bucked forward as you took your mouth off of him.

“so if i want head like this again, all i have to do is annoy you?”

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hope u enjoyed :p

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joonipertree · 3 months ago

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Pro-racer!Jiro x insecure!reader

drabble that started it all

the smut that isn't done yet but will be uploaded at some point

Thank u everyone who asked for a part 2, it motivated me a lot i hope u like this as much as i do!

When you heard the door of your apartment open, your body stiffened. It hadn't been that long since Mikey left, only 5 pm and he said he'd be back by ten so it confused you. But you didn't get up from under your blanket, didn't run out and hug him in greeting. You stayed silent and still, wondering maybe it was your imagination and then morbidly thinking an intruder got in. You wouldn't want an intruder to come in but Mikey just wasn't someone you wanted to see in that moment.

An exasperated sigh left Mikey’s lips but he was stubborn if anything so your body went deeper into the mattress from his body weight. He peppered you with kisses like he always did and your body relaxed under the onslaught of affection. Your head cleared for the first time in the last hour and every second you were in his presence was enough to assure you of his love. But the image of the comments flashed in your head, so easily. People saying that he and the model looked good together, that they would make a pretty couple, that it made sense. And as much as you wanted to deny it, you knew that there was a reason people were saying it. Of course there was, you had eyes. And the question that was begging to get out of you sat on your tongue like a weight.

And with some difficulty, you unstuck your tongue from the roof of your mouth and spoke with every fiber of your body protesting against it.

“Why are you dating me?”

The silence that followed was deafening and felt like a burial for your emotions. You didn’t know what you wanted him to say, second guessing your worries and your thoughts. Eating your words would have been easier, shutting up would probably keep the remnants of your relationship together. Of course, your relationship didn’t feel like it was on its last leg but love was blind wasn’t it? People hid secrets easily enough. And the question in your head wasn’t necessarily if he loved you but couldn’t he love someone better?

“Your laugh gets squeaky when you giggle for too long.”

A pause. You still couldn’t look at him.

“The way you talk about your favourite characters is filled with so much passion and nuance, I know for a fact that that doesn’t just apply to them. You do a cute thing where you break eye contact with me when you stare at me for too long, we’ve been together for four years. You annoy me every day when I don’t pay attention to you and then take your revenge by eating my food.”

Your eyes were blurry from the unshed tears that threatened to break free and all Mikey could do was kiss your cheek as he continued his list.

“Your hands are very small in mine and you give me extra meat on my plate when you think I’m not looking and you pat babu on his headlights like he’s precious to you. You complain about having to take care of a big baby like me but do it anyway. And you cackle every time you put my hair in pigtails like it's the most evil plan. We spent fifteen minutes the other day doing basic math when tryna bake something and ended up getting flour everywhere. What a silly question for you to ask, honey.”

You sniffled and let him turn your head so you could see the crinkling of the corner of Mikey’s eyes and the gentle smile he reserved for only you. And as much as you wanted to let it go then and there, your fist still punched his shoulder, albeit with no strength in it.

“Then why was your face so close to that model, you jackass?” Another fist landed on his chest but he didn’t budge at all, cradling your face that didn’t wanna venture too far away from his hand. “I get that she’s pretty but you can’t just do that to me!! Am I not enough? Do you think it’s fine cuz it's a photoshoot? Cuz no! I don’t like it at all!!! You fucker! You piece of shit!”

Mikey sighed, closing his eyes for a second before saying, “it’s not what it looks like.”

The scripted sounding line made you see red as your foot kicked him almost reflexively in the stomach. He fell back onto the bed, legs and arms spread as he groaned at the impact. You took the chance to get up and begin walking out of the room.

“I know it looks bad but genuinely! Not what you think it is!”

The pillow you threw at him shut him up real quick and he was left laying there in a disgruntled ball. The door slammed shut behind you as you stomped your way into the guest bedroom, closing with less intensity as your anger fizzled out as soon as you went inside. You sat down on the bed, the photo burned into your retina and every single comment going through your head like you’re scrolling through your phone at that exact moment.

After half an hour, the door to the room opened and mentally cursed yourself for forgetting to lock it. This didn’t change the position you were in, a small ball of pity on one corner of the bed. There were two thumps on the side table next to you and after some shuffling, the door opened and closed. You waited five minutes before peeking from your blanket. A glass of water sat on the table along with your phone, precariously placed in your direction. You looked around and saw the room being empty before you chugged the water down.

Your phone pinged with a notification from Mikey’s instagram. He posted something while the two of you were in an active fight? That bitch-

You picked up your phone, stared at your lockscreen of Mikey and you with your cheeks pressed together and opened his page despite yourself. It was a video with the caption ‘thanks for sending this @luvrboisanzu’. The video played on its own, a few seconds before the camera had captured the photo that had caused this whole ordeal. The model was seen hovering behind him, leaning down with her hand stretching out towards his face. There was no hesitance in Mikey’s hand shooting up and grabbing her wrist, glaring at her before glaring at the director telling him to ‘let her’.

“It’s just for the camera! People will love it!” The old man persisted before Mikey stood up from his seat.

“I’m taken and I’m bored. We must have enough by now, right?” Mikey’s hands were tucked into the pockets of his dress pants, eyes sharp and steady.

“Oh come on, a few more won’t hurt right? Think of your fans---” The director pushed on and the air around Mikey changed immediately. It grew more stifling, his eyes narrowing at the man.

Silence, no one knew what to say before Ken-chin brought over Mikey's jacket. Mikey began leaving, ignoring the stammering staff members that were asking him to stay.

“Oof,” a sound came from behind the camera and you instantly recognized it as Haruchiyo, “dude bro really shouldn't have pushed it.”

And the video ended.

You stared at the screen for a second, noticing the little red circle on his profile. You clicked it without thinking, the video that played took a second for you to process.

Sanzu had posted it on his story and tagged @bikerboi_manjiro, Mikey had shared it on his story. The main focus was Mikey, his hair up in a ponytail while he played patty cake with someone that you instantly realised was you off camera. The memory was clear in your head, from a few months ago when you were on the sidelines watching haru fuck around with Mikey under the guise of a makeover. His nails were painted metallic silver, his nose was grazed with blush and he had graphic liner adorning his eyes.

The main problem with filming was his lack of attention span and inability to sit still. So he'd often just move around or eat the snacks or bound over to you for your affection. In this instance, the two of you were bored and ended up just stuck in a long game of patty cake.

Mikey, in the video, watched your hands fumble and grinned brightly before grabbing your hands in his. You remembered how flustered you had gotten from his stare, you two had been together for a long time but his gaze still felt too much to you at times. Mikey broke down laughing seeing you all blushy, eyes squeezing shut and leaning closer towards you.

The story left your screen and you were left with a swirl of emotions which you could only describe as embarrassed, awed and grateful. As well as just a tiny bit pissed that he thinks that he could post himself being cute and you'd walk out the door back into his arms?? He was right, of course. But it still pissed you off.

So you dragged your ass out of the guest room and instantly noticed his napping form on the living room couch. Mikey's head was against the couch cushion, eyes closed and hair spread out like a halo.

And without much warning, you plopped yourself on his lap. His eyes instantly shot open, instantly focused on you as you made yourself comfortable on your seat. Mikey's arms went around your waist, soothing your back with his large hand as you laid your head on your shoulder.

“Sorry for kicking you….and punching you….and doubting you.” You whispered.

Mikey snorted, “couldn't have asked for a better kick. And it's fine, I would've kicked myself too if I could. Sorry it came to this.”

“I shouldn't have thought you would do anything with another person….you never gave me a reason to believe that.” You squeezed him against you as much as you could, letting him soak in your warmth.

“You're always so hard on yourself, you know that? Always think the worst of yourself. Which is very annoying when I look at you and I see the best person I could possibly be with. I really don't think you understand how lucky I am to be dating you.” Mikey whispered, placing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder, letting you melt into him.

“I'm just me.” You whined, too focused on his lips on your skin than your words.

“And you are something that is so rare and precious that it's a miracle I found you. You think I can walk down the street or go into a photo shoot and find someone like you? I could spend lifetimes searching and not get close, yet here you are…in my lap.” Manjiro's kisses had turned into light nibbling , hand curling so that the back of his nails could graze your spine, causing you to shiver.

“You're a very silly little baby aren't you, honey? Having these silly thoughts. You don't need to stress your pretty head about it, no not at all.” Mikey spoke gently, voice soft and buttery. And you just whined into his shoulder, letting his words fog up your brain and close your eyes.

Mikey's long fingers made their way into your hair, scratching your scalp enough for your nerves to come alive and cause shivers run down your back. His nails reached the nape of your neck and a little whimper forced its way out of your throat.

“Mh-hm.” Mikey hummed, rocking from side to side. Your head was stuck in a dream-like state, body melted against his own with barely any thoughts left.

“Jiro.” You whined, feeling overwhelmed. Your boyfriend only chuckled, playing with the hem of your shorts, asking for permission. And oh, you wanted him so badly.

#mikey x reader #mikey fluff #mikey sano x reader #manjiro sano x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x you #tokyorev x reader #sano manjiro x reader

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joedirtymadre · 10 months ago

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Imma need a part 2 of bothersome🫣🥺PLEASEEE

Bothersome - Part 2

LAW X READER!! (PLEASE SEND MORE REQUESTS! PLEASE! 🙏)

You stood at the edge of the ship, watching the sunset slowly set. After Punk Hazard, you all returned back to the ship. Out to Dressrosa, to help Law with whatever he was planning. “So you’re just going to ignore me?” That deep voice called out to you. You continued staring out to the sea, hearing footsteps behind you come closer. You could sense him standing next to you, staring at you.

“What’s wrong with that? You did it to me throughout our relationship,” you said softly.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). Please forgive me, what I did was wrong and I don’t want this affecting the allia-“ you quickly cut him off. “Why would our past affect the alliance? Did you honestly think I haven’t moved on by now?” You laughed. “I-… No I didn’t think that, but…” he trailed off. “Don’t worry, I’ll happily accept my captain’s orders… even if it means having to be in alliance with you,” you said coldly.

You turned around and headed towards the girl’s quarters. “(Y/N), I wasn’t done speaking!” He said, as he followed me. “Ok, so what else did you have to say?” You asked as you turned back to face him. “U-Uh… well you look… nice. How have you… been?” He asked awkwardly. “You really want to have a quick catch up?” You scoffed. “Well like you said we’re in an alliance now, so we should be able to have civil conversations,” he explained. You raised an eyebrow, “Traffy, weren’t you the one that tried to explain to Luffy that an alliance doesn’t mean we’re friends?” You asked.

“Not you using that dumb name too… a-and I did but-“ you cut him off. “Exactly! Thank you for remembering! Now I’ll be off to my room,” you said as you turned back and quickly entered your room before he could stop you.

You threw yourself on your bed, “Just another example of having the worst luck ever… Now I have to see and help my ex for who knows how long,” you sighed as you stared at the ceiling. “This is all so stupid and awkward!” You said to yourself as you rubbed your head. Out of all people, him?! At this point you would’ve preferred if Kidd showed up or something… And what the hell is up with him trying to have small talk with me? Does he expect me to be buddy buddy with him like nothing happened?

You quickly sat up, and shook your head. “Stop thinking about him. We’re over him, he doesn’t affect us anymore…” you said to yourself as you felt tears fall down your face. “God I’m so stupid!” You yelled.

Suddenly you heard the door open, and you quickly wiped away any tears. “(Y/N)? Are you awake?” You heard Robin call out. “Hi Robin,” you sniffled. “What’s wrong?” She asked as she sat on the edge of your bed. “It’s nothing, just some bad memories…” you said, as you avoided her eyes. “You know you can tell me, I’m your friend (Y/N),” she smiled as she placed her hand on top of mine. “I know, thanks,” you smiled softly. “I came to check on you, because I saw how upset you looked after speaking with Trafalgar,” she replied. “Yeah, I just don’t feel too comfortable around him,” you confessed. “You should tell Luffy, I’m sure he’ll under-“ you quickly cut her off. “No! No…” you repeated. “I can’t let him know! I can’t-“ you shut your mouth, afraid of your voice cracking.

“Let him get to you? I don’t understand,” she said, confused. You sat there in silence, pondering whether to tell her or not. “(Y/N), I’ll always be here for you. Do you and Trafalgar have a past history?” She asked. “Mhmm… I used to be a part of his crew, before I left…” you trailed off. “You left? Why?” She asked. “We were dating… until he shared his true feelings with me. I couldn’t stay there, not after what he said to me… So I left, while he was distracted by some Marines,” you explained, feeling a heavy weight fall off your shoulder. “Oh my,” Robin gasped. “Yep, so now we’re in an alliance with him. It’s weird, and I’ve moved on… but it sucks seeing him,” you said slowly.

“I see,” she said softly. “It’s ok, we’ll show him that you’ve grown. That no matter what he does, he can’t hurt you. Especially when you have friends here that will support you,” she smiled as he wrapped me into a hug. “You’re right!” You grinned. Your beautiful moment was quickly interrupted by your stomach growling. “Ah… I guess all this talk got me hungry,” you said sheepishly. “Let’s go get dinner,” Robin said. You nodded and the both of you quickly headed to the dining table.

You sat in between Robin and Luffy, and across from… Law. “Here you go everyone, dinner’s ready!” Sanji smiled as he sat down to eat. “Thank you,” we all said and quickly began eating. You reached forward for a rice ball, and brushed your hands against Law’s. You immediately flinched, looking up to see him staring your way.

You quickly grabbed a rice ball and pulled your arm away. You began to eat, trying to look anywhere but his direction. “Hey (Y/N)!” Said Luffy, breaking you out of your concentration. “Y-Yes?” You stuttered as you looked next to you. “Are you gonna finish your meat?” He asked, drooling. “Luffy! Leave (Y/N)’s food alone!” Sanji yelled. “It’s fine, you can have it Luffy,” you smiled as you handed him your plate.

“Thanks!” He smiled, but it quickly turned into a frown as he stared at you. “Something wrong?” You asked. “Yeah… one sec,” he said as he moved his hand to your face. Slowly wiping away at your cheek, you felt your cheeks heat up. “Sorry, you had rice on your cheek,” he laughed. “Oh, thanks,” you smiled. “Ow!” Luffy yelled, causing everyone to focus their attention on him. “Someone stepped on me!” He huffed. “Huh?” You questioned.

“You’re just imagining it,” Nami said. “Here Luffy, take my sandwich,” you said as you placed it onto his plate. “Wow!” He said, quickly changing his focus back onto his food. You slowly turned your eyes to the man in front of you. You almost fell out of your seat, once seeing the daggers that this man was staring into you.

“I-I’ll think I’ll call it an early night, night you guys,” you said as you quickly headed out of the dining room.

“Man that was tense,” you sighed as you walked towards your room. You slowly reached for the door knob, before suddenly being turned over and being pushed against the wall. You grunted as your back hit the door, you quickly opened your eyes to see that you were trapped by… Law… “T-Traffy?” You asked nervously. “So I see that you moved on, but I didn’t know you had a thing for captains,” he said coldly. “Woah… Woah… you think I moved from you onto Luffy? You’re crazy,” you laughed.

You noticed a light pink hue on his cheeks, as you continued to laugh. “Well why the blushy face when he reached for your face?” He questioned. “Well… wouldn’t anyone blush if you had food on your face and your friend took it off?” You asked. “I- Uh-“ you quickly cut him off. “Look like someone else needs to move on,” you laughed again, while slowly turning around to open the door. But was quickly turned back around, “Stop messing with me!” He yelled.

“What do you want from me? Do you still wish that I head head over heels for you, well tough shit cause you messed that up!” You yelled. You noticed that he was slightly taken aback by your response. “So what if I end up liking Luffy or whoever! That has nothing to do with you! You’re nothing to me, nothing,” you growled as you pushed him away.

“I’m not the same girl anymore, that would follow your every word. Or kiss the floor where you stepped on,” you glared. “So just leave me alone… haven’t you done enough?” You asked as you were finally able to open the door to the girls’ quarters. You quickly entered the door, ignoring Law’s calls for you. As you went to slam the door, a foot stopped it from slamming.

“Jesus Christ, you just don’t know when to leave a girl alone…” you groaned. “I’m sorry… I just want to say that I’m sorry,” he peeked through. “Ok now mov-“ he cut you off. “I’m sorry… for what I said. When you left, I realized how much I missed you- needed you… We went back to the island, but you were already gone. I don’t know what went over me, I-I missed your laughs, your smile, you interrupting me from my work, calling me honey… I know I screwed up, and seeing you now… Just reminds me of when we were still together… but I guess that’ll never be the case again,” he confessed. You stayed silent. “I’ll leave you alone, or as much as I can… I just wanted to let you know how I felt,” he said softly before removing his foot. Finally allowing you to shut the door.

You let out a deep sigh, and slowly slid down against the door. “Why do I feel like this?” You asked yourself as you clenched your hair. “What do I do now…?” You softly cried into your arms.

413 notes · View notes

halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

Note

hello !! if it’s not too much of a bother can you write another piece featuring Lion 🫶 maybe another angsty piece, maybe a lil lion + farah combo or something else like lion and gaz getting separated from the 141 during a mission and having to fight their way back to the extraction point (?). totally up to you !!! also thank u for keeping us well fed 🙇‍♀️

Lions and Ibexes

PAIRING: John Price x Wife!Reader 'Codename Lion'

SYNOPSIS: Impulsive was what John always called you - affectionately, of course. But he sure does worry when you disappear without him.

WORDCOUNT: 4.0k

WARNINGS: Blood, death, canon typical violence, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, banter, no connection to 'I'll Take the Night Shift' except codenames, protective!Price, suggestive jokes, etc.

A/N: I wanna give Farah a big smooch on her forehead.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

“So this is the woman that the Captain won’t keep quiet about,” you smirk and place your hand into Farah Karim’s, eyes shimmering as you both share a tight grip.

“Commander,” greeting the black-haired woman, your light gear hangs off of you easily and efficiently; clean and well-taken care of.

“Lion,” she nods, smirking back. “A pleasure.”

“Please,” you huff a laugh, “I wish it could be.” Expressions dim as you instantly get to work, the hot sun and dry air sticking to your flesh like a second skin of humidity. Releasing Farah’s hand you sigh and look around the old town, skimming over the forms of other Urzikstan Liberation Force soldiers.

Farah does the same, breathing lowly.

“On that, I believe you’d be right.” Brown eyes flick to yours, looking you over before the woman nods. “Come, we have much to discuss.”

“Lead the way,” your feet push you onward, following behind the Commander as your wedding band clinks against your chest. Held on that long chain, a hand comes up to brush it carefully, letting the man who wears the mirrored piece bring you comfort even from so far away.

John was set to ship out in two days—there were some other important operations that had taken precedence. While you could have stayed behind with him, as you had wanted to do, a plea from one of the far-distant operators of One-Four-One had caught your ear. The name Farah Karim was known.

If you didn’t offer assistance, you’d never feel right with yourself. One call to Laswell and it was all set up.

“I’ll be there in two days,” John had muttered into your scalp as you both lay in bed, tight to one another; lashes fluttering. “Wait for me, yeah? No running off.”

Your smirk had made him sigh a chuckle. “No stunts of heroics, my Love? Please, do you know who you’re speaking to?”

“You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, y’know?”

“Well,” the words are uttered into his neck and John pulls you tighter into him. “I think that’s just about the most romantic thing to happen to someone.”

Smiling to yourself, you bring the ring to your lips and kiss it lightly before letting it drop. In your head, John is still in your shared flat in London, and you’ll be back by the hour. If only.

“You contacted Laswell and said you had encountered more of Barkov's remaining cells?” Your voice carries easy authority; ingrained confidence.

Farah looks back and nods firmly.

“They’ve taken over a town in the mountains, my forces can’t break the line.” She sighs aggressively and you stare with a sliding frown. “Even dead, Barkov cannot leave my people alone.”

In the back of your throat, you hum, “Well, parasites tend to be resilient.” Farah leads you into a home with maps on the tables and low talking of strategies from others. They pause when you enter and you nod politely. Many here knew your husband as the Commander did—all those years back when he was still only a Lieutenant and had broken Farah and her brother Hadir out from the Russian’s jail; labeled as prisoners of war.

John had told you about it during one of the many late nights in your joint offices. Eyes tired and his hands playing with your hair.

“What do you need me to do?” You ask genially, standing near the table and placing your hands down on it—standard M4A1 resting over your chest and your secondary weapon strapped to your thigh. Unlike most, you’d opted for lighter gear to allow you to move faster.

Fewer packs sit on your vest, and the gleam of the knife on your shoulder was a testament to your preference to close, silent, encounters. Though you liked to use your silver tongue to get out of situations, unfortunately, that wouldn’t work in this instance.

“Captain Price told me you’re one of the best undercover agents he’s seen.” You perk at this, looking over with raised brows.

“Hell,” your chuckle echoes, “when you said he couldn’t keep quiet I thought you were exaggerating.”

Farah smiles cheekily at you before pointing to the map of a mountain town surrounded by red Xs.

“My soldiers have marked off choke points all around the area. They’re the only pathways to the town, but heavily guarded.” She glances around the room and you hear her sigh heavily. “I wouldn’t have asked for assistance unless I knew I needed it. I’d prefer to leave foreign fighters out of this conflict, unlike my enemy.”

“I understand,” your head shakes. “It’s your home—I’ll go where you need me to. John should be here in two days to assist.”

Farah’s face flashes with surprise, her full brows rising on her head. “Price is coming?”

You shrug and laugh, “he’s stubborn.”

The woman chuffs before moving to fold her arms over her chest. “I think perhaps he’s more of a smitten husband, hm?” At the sheepish expression on your face and dipping eyes, Farah barks a laugh.

The band around your neck clinks into the stock of your gun as you stand to your full height.

“Is it that obvious,” you tease, tilting your head to her. You knew it was.

“I believe the simple action of asking is proof enough, Lion.” The commander looks at her work on the table, smiling easily but focusing still on her plan of attack. “But, regardless, I give my thanks for flying out on such short notice.”

“We help our own.” Resting your hands on the body of your weapon, you smile fondly. “Now, who do I need to kill?”

—

As it turns out, killing was the very baseline of what you needed to do.

Shuffling into the dark armor of the dead Russian soldier at your feet, you grunt at the slick spread of blood on the ground as you strap arm braces to your limbs.

“Heavy as all hell,” you grumble under your breath, picking up the large helmet and shoving it over your head with a puff of air.

Farah was going to lead a distraction on the far side of the western choke point while you slipped into the ranks, placing packs of C4 in some of the large-stocked weapons buildings. Easy enough for you, you admitted. You’d done things like this a million times over.

When all was said and done, slipping your knife into the new belt at your waist, you gaze down at the dead man with a huff of air; seeing the blood still pooling from the very obvious signs of a slit up the left armpit. You blink and stuff your wedding band down your shirt.

“Bad day, buddy,” grabbing his legs, you bare your heels and drag the body behind a large outcropping of rocks—long streaks of crimson left behind. “I’d hate to be you right now.”

Grunting, you drop the limp flesh with a thump like a paper-towel roll meeting the counter.

Shuffling back into the open, your feet make tracks to get you closer toward your targets. You hike the small pouch Farah gave you farther up your back without a word more.

John had always said you were quick-witted, but when he got here he’d lose that hat of his in disbelief. The truth was that you had forgotten what little of the Russian language you’d initially known, and the situation you found yourself in now was frankly not ideal.

C’mon Lion, you think to yourself, just pick up social cues and you’ll be good.

Oh, your husband was going to lose his shit.

—

“Come again?” The Captain barks. “What do you fuckin’ mean she’s in the base?!”

“I just explained it,” Farah levels, raising a brow. Blue eyes narrow with a growl until the Commander's lips flicker in a smirk. “We just had word three minutes ago. She’s fine, Captain.” Fingers find John’s nose bridge, digging deep into the flesh in large exasperation and worry.

He had caught a C17 and came here a day early after he’d gotten a bad feeling—internal wife radar going off as it usually did when you placed yourself in danger without him. Which was more often than not.

I told her not to be impulsive.

John sighs long and low, shaking his head. “Farah…you sent her in alone?”

“She is quite capable, Price.”

“I fucking…” He stops himself and puts his hands on the table in the center of the building. Men and women were snickering from the corners, sending amused glances. “I know.”

Farah sends a glance to her soldiers and they turn away to cover their smiling mouths. Enjoyment was in her tone as she grabs the walkie-talkie from the table top and clips it to her vest.

“There were more men than we anticipated—she had to be more careful when placing the charges. Captain,” John glares up at her when his eyes leave the maps. The Commander teases, “She is fine.”

As if on cue, the radio fizzles with your voice. Farah looks down with surprise and the Brit's eyes snap to it immediately; body tense.

There’s a moment of garbled static where the Captain feels his heart beating out of his chest. The panic that had snapped through him when you hadn’t come out to greet him when he’d landed was primal; genuine fear stuck in his bones like spiky grass. The bond the two of you had was closer than anything on this plane of existence. It was rare to not see one without the other.

Your voice cuts through and John’s shoulders sag under a non-existent weight.

“You should tell your men to move unless they want to be scorched, Farah!” The woman in the room smiles ferally and raises a smug brow as she looks at John.

“Copy, Lion. You have my thanks.”

“I didn’t know you could improvise Russian—it’s like the Slavic blood just entered my body!” The Brit covers his eyes with his hand and groans at the base of his throat.

“Tell her to get her arse back here before she gets bloody shot.” John takes off his bucket hat and tosses it to the table with a gloved hand, punching his hair back from his forehead. “Giving me gray hairs,” he grunts.

Farah laughs and says eagerly into the walkie, “Someone’s here to say hello.”

“...Oh, fuck.” Your panting breath clears and after a long glare at the device, John hears you say in a slow and awkward tone, “Hello, my Love!”

Farah tilts the radio closer to him and looks highly pleased.

“Get back here. Now.” John grunts out, fingers digging into his arms as he crosses them. “I told you to wait for me.”

You laugh nervously, deflecting, “...did you, Dear? I guess I misheard you.” The Brit’s jaw clenches but Farah can speak before he can.

“Lion, are all the charges set, then?” You seem thankful for the distraction, sighing over the line.

“All good over here! I just need the O.K from your men and then it’s about to get a whole lot brighter.”

“I’ll relay the news—get away, as far as you can.”

“Already on it,” your breathy chuckle exits and you pause before saying. “See you soon, Love!”

Tiny blue eyes bug, “Wait–!” The line clicks off and Farah is already tapping into the frequency for her soldiers, turning slightly away to converse in quick Arabic.

—

Evening rolls around and you jog back into the Liberation Force’s base, greeting the guards stationed with a breathless sigh; utterly sweaty but happy you’d gotten half a ride back from some locals. You’re back in your original gear, sear marks on your cheeks and hair slightly burned, but nonetheless unharmed.

Everyone welcomes you back with handshakes and pats on your shoulders—brushes to your arm as people pass. You guide yourself back to the main building with chuckles and deep smiles of achievement.

“Someone’s happy.” John’s voice freezes you halfway into the home and you cringe like a leaf. After a moment your eyebrows slide up with a cheeky smile.

“John,” you draw out his name and turn, seeing him leaning against the house with his arms crossed and legs stiff. He looks unimpressed in all of his handsome glory. “Well, don’t you look nice—did you trim your beard before coming out?”

Walking slowly towards him, you loop your hands around his waist and press kisses into his neck sweetly. The man sighs long and you feel his large palms rest on your hips heavily. You blink innocently into his orbs.

“Your silver tongue won’t work on me, Love.” The glint in his expression eggs you on as his nose tints down to touch yours. You smile brightly, seeing the wrinkles on his forehead dim as he melts into you easily.

Whispering, you utter to the air, “I’d say you like my tongue, you brute. Tell me often enough.” Not a beat is missed, but you feel his cheeks go slightly red.

“Keep it on a leash and maybe I’d like it more, yeah?” You snort loudly, head dipping only to feel his lips press into your scalp; his smile is teasing as his beard drags against you.

John breathes you in along with the scent of sand. One of his hands travels up to lock into the back of your neck, playing with the chain of your necklace. The one that mirrors his own down to the very dents and scratches.

“You alright?” The words are a murmur into your flesh. You let him play with your wedding band as your smile softens to the same sensation of warm pelts on a wooden floor.

There was no use telling you to stop your crusades, the Brit knew that. You did what you wanted and damn the consequences; John was stuck with damage control but knew you had the skills and know-how to break all odds. You still held that same fire that the woman he married wore like a crown of fangs without fail.

“Always,” you reassure him, hugging his waist tighter and staring into his eyes.

The both of you lapse into a delicate hold. John’s arms cage you in and you’d have it no other way as fingers drag over warm flesh, never mind the brutal dig of gear or the stain of blood. Neither could keep you away from the other.

“When will you stop making my heart rip out of my chest, Sweetheart?” John asks, smirking down at you. “Trying to give me a heart attack before forty, eh?”

“Oh, please,” you whisper against his lips, eyes alight with mischief as he watches you closely—pulse pounding against yours. He could never be angry at you. “We both know that if you have one, I’ll be having one too. We’ll end up being brain-dead at the same damn time, no doubt.”

He laughs against you lowly, having to pull back to shake his head at your bland confession. “You’re fuckin’ mental, Love.” He breathes in soft puffs of breath. You gaze up at him, laced with affection and care, as he rests his forehead on yours. “Ah, but that’s alright, isn’t it? We’re all a bit crazy.”

“You might be a little bit higher on the metaphorical scale,” you tease, face serious but eyes betraying you. They always would when it came to John; the only person to break through that ‘cunning nuisance’ that everyone always mentioned in your file.

“Really, now?” He blinks, smirking and rubbing at your hip absentmindedly and leaning closer—pushing your neck to the side.

“Just a bit,” you huff, not even realizing.

Before you can utter another word, firm lips capture you like a beast in iron bars, bulky forearms stuck at the curve of your spine. You chirp into John’s mouth in surprise but melt into him as his large purr resonates into your bloodstream. Singing, you bring your hands to his cheeks, digging through those bristles to feel the burn on your hands.

Humming, your husband nuzzles his nose into your cheek like a dog would, letting him take in your scent as you feel your legs go weak. You enjoy the worship he gives you; always would. Your body is tightly held against his own and you gladly would have shown him how much you enjoyed him being here if only for the small fact you needed to talk to Farah.

With one last pass of his reddened lips, you slip back and kiss his bristly cheek with a chuckle.

“Later.”

He groans into you. “Tease.”

“I didn’t even do anything!” You laugh loudly, moving out of his hold to walk into the house as he follows at your heels. John’s hands go to the top of his vest collar to rest.

He leans down and whispers, “Don’t need to, Love.”

Your face burns for him and only him as he grumbles out chuckles at your blown pupils. Huffing, you turn and roll your eyes, trying to dispel your flaming blood. Farah waits for you and with a happy glance up she comes from around the table and claps you on both shoulders. You grunt in surprise but grip her elbows with a laugh.

“Barkov’s remaining cell was wiped out—my soldiers are hunting down the remnants as we speak.” She squeezes your gear and you sigh in relief. “Thank you, Lion, for coming out when you did. The Captain was not wrong in his assessment.”

You turn your head to the side and glance back at John. “Hear that my Love, I’ve heard you talk about me. That’s so precious.”

His face goes red under his beard, and his feet shuffle as you and Farah share a joking glance. John releases under-the-breath grumbles before the Commander addresses him. The woman releases you but speaks past your person.

“Some of my younger soldiers wanted you to mentor them with the use of their weapons, do you plan on staying the night?” You and John share a look, a seeming telepathic communication going on.

He nods at you and you smile. “Only tonight, we ship out at first light. I’ll do what I’m able.”

“Then you also have my thanks. They’ll learn much, I’m sure. Lion,” John comes and gives you a kiss on the cheek before leaving. You watch him go for a moment before rubbing at your dirty neck while you listen to Farah. “Come with me, there’s fresh water on the roof.”

“Oh,” you perk, suddenly realizing the fatigue in your bones and the dryness of your throat. “Thank you, that’d be great.”

As you both ascend the stairs to the roof, there’s a still silence that falls, a calm nothingness. When you finally stand on the flat roof, you look over the vast land as Farah hands you a chilled water bottle from a mini-fridge. You take it with a small nod in thanks.

“Nice view,” you motion with the bottle before taking a long sip—downing half of it in one go.

Farah smiles and hums. “Urzikatan is a beautiful place,” you listen and wipe at your mouth; seeing people walk the streets below as the red sun grows even lower. In the wind, your nose twitches to sand and dust, with some hint of floral notes and arid cleanliness. Farah’s face seeps with a low sadness when she looks out to the land and you pause your drinking. Brows pulling in, you watch her.

“Farah?” You ask, carefully. It’s a moment before she responds.

“I…” She crosses her arms and sets her feet. “I wonder if this place will ever see its freedom. We’ve been fighting for so long already. My family has known war more than anything else.” Brown eyes drift to you from the side of her eye.

There’s a tightness in your chest. You can’t imagine what Farah feels right now, what she has felt. Years of this…and still her home is under foreign subjugation. A frown grows on your face and you put the half-full bottle to the small wooden table near the roof’s corner.

“You’ll get your sovereignty, Farah.” You try your best to speak your mind to the woman but remain truthful to your belief. Farah stares out as you sigh lowly. “Maybe not now—maybe not in this generation—but someday the sun is going to set on a free Urzikatan. You’re plenty strong enough to assure that and you’ve done a proper job so far. The frames are already set.”

The Commander hums and gazes at her soldiers below as they mull about, laughing with each other and enjoying the company of their fellow countrymen.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like?” Farah asks you, and you study her genuine interest in her own thoughts. “Who we would be if nothing ever happened to us.”

You stare for a moment, skull tilting down to gaze at the top of the roof. It’s not an easy question to answer.

“Sometimes,” your lips admit. Farch eagerly pivots to your form like you hold the greatest answer imaginable. She’s been through so much—losing her family, and her home. Humming, your eyes shift to the setting sun; blinking at it. Against all of this, your lips flinch up into a smile. “But not often.”

Farah’s eager gaze turns confused, her brows furrowing deeply with a scrunched face.

“Because right here, right now,” John walks down the street below, and your eyes fall to him as easily as a leaf dances to the ground. The expression on your face eases. “It couldn’t have happened if there were never bad days.” Your husband looks up, and you see him pause among the ranks of other fighters. You chuckle softly, head tilting to the side.

John stares at you as if you’re the only person to exist, moving one hand from his vest to jerk two fingers in a subtle greeting. Farsh watches the interaction closely, tension loosening from her body. Your head nods slowly to your husband and you say to the woman, absent-minded, “I’m right where I need to be…And the sun has never looked brighter.”

Farah huffs a laugh, eyes running back and forth between the two of you.

“He loves you,” she says, “deeply.”

“God,” your laugh echoes, “I sure hope so.” The both of you laugh.

It felt easy to speak to the Commander, truthfully. Being surrounded by four men all of the time can get catty even with such a strong bond as you had with One-Four-One.

You dare to share more.

"In my mind, John and I are still in Hertfordshire for our wedding,” The words come out of you slowly, unwrapping emotions one layer at a time as if swaddled in a dark veil of internal nostalgia. You watch John as he walks along, oddly sad but filled with something that makes you want to take him up into your arms with a wet laugh. “Sitting back on the grassy hills outside of town in my gown and him in his tux. The wind is cold…but neither of us can find it in ourselves to shiver. The sun's setting on our heads and making everything glow gold. His fingers are running through my hair…” You pause and hear Farah’s soft breath in the air, but you don’t look at her. Your eyes stay stuck on one person only. “When I die,” your words continue, “I can't ask for anything more than just a glimpse of that again. Just a flicker of that hill. Of those blue eyes looking into mine. I don't think it would be all that bad if I could live in that moment for senseless eternity. If I could live in it for only one second."

John looks back at you from over his shoulder, your form shrouded in the setting sun as he slowly walks away from you. You gaze with melted eyes, the ring around your neck shining all the brighter.

“I’m right where I need to be,” finishing, you turn your glossy eyes to Farah, who stares with a wide pull to her lids. “And you need to believe that even if you never get to see that freedom—that hill—you’ll make sure someone else can climb it just an inch farther.”

It’s a long moment before Farah answers.

“The both of you will do this until one of you dies, hm?” You blink before you shrug.

“Not one.” Your tone is easy, and John’s shadow turns a corner; out of sight. “I’d never let him go without me.”

TAGS:

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tonight-i-may-see · 10 months ago

Text

Illicit Affairs (Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader)

[note: MORE ANGST UPON YE. also can u tell im on a tswift kick?]

cw: angst with a happy(?) ending, gn!reader, reader's gender isn't specified.

word count: 1k

Inspo: Illicit affairs - taylor swift & peace - taylor swift

“I have to go.”

It was like clockwork. You'd meet, spend a few hours together, then he'd go and the next morning you'd have to look him in the eye at work like this wasn't breaking your heart.

This time, you decided to push things.

“Why? Who's waiting?” You ask, obviously pointing out the fact he wasn't married anymore and hadn't been for quite some time. The divorce had happened months before the first time the two of you did this routine, so why exactly was it he had to leave so soon?

He’s silent for a moment, then deeply exhales. “No one. But I don't have my go-bag if we get called.”

A spark of irritation fizzles through you, so you push harder. “What, you can't go get it on the way?”. It's clear by his face he doesn't want to have this talk, and another sigh rolls out of his nose. It was typical really, he only ever wanted to have the good stuff with you, no discussions that might require actual use of his brain cells. To him, you were supposed to be easy, just a way to relax after work that he didn't have to stress over.

Of course, he was more than aware of how unfair that was- you were a human being with very real feelings, reciprocated ones, even. But after Haley he just wasn't ready to focus on anything but Jack and work…which was made difficult by the fact you were work. You were there every day, giving him that hurt puppy dog look that broke his heart a little every time he saw it. Those eyes only made him push you further away, though, so you'd resigned to only allowing them when you thought he wasn't looking (He could never take his eyes off you, though you had no idea that was the case.).

“Can we not do this tonight?” Aaron asks, and you’re startled by the weakness in his voice, by the tightness that was building to a crack. Looking up at him, you can see his eyes glisten in the lamp light, an even more startling reaction to your nagging questions.

“Are you-...are you crying?” You ask in a whisper, worry knitting your brow and bringing a frown to your lips. “Aaron, hey-”

He tries to shy away, but you don’t let him for once. You pull him close and wipe his cheeks, still concerned about how out of nowhere this reaction is from him. “I just want you to stay, what’s going on?”

It’s silent for a long while, you assume he’s collecting his thoughts and calming down, so you just keep one hand on his shoulder and the other on his arm to ground him. Five minutes pass before he can look you in the eye, and when he does your heart shatters. The tears just won’t stop. As he falls into your arms, you rub his back and try to push through the confusion at how fast things changed emotionally. “What is it, Aaron…? Honey?” You ask softly, moving so he can sit next to you on the bed.

“I wanna stay-” It’s a little difficult to make out with the tears and the fact he has his face pressed against your shoulder, but you hear it. “I wanna stay,” He repeats “But that makes it real.”

Time slows, and the cogs start to turn in your head. Losing Haley twice over must’ve been the worst heartbreak he’d ever experienced, and she wasn’t in the field. You are. Sure, that means you’ve got each other’s backs, but it also meant your lives were on the line daily. Sure enough, he finishes your train of thought for you.

“I can’t lose you.”

You don’t even try to say he won’t, because you know he might. Every time you step out of the bullpen and into the field there’s a target on your back, and you’d be a fool if you tried to ignore that. But was that really a reason to break each other's hearts?

“You might.” You say stiffly, running your fingers through the longest parts of his hair. “But if you keep this up, you’ll lose me too.”

It was something you wanted to let hang, so you did. One hand still running through his hair as you watched him process it…he was tired, you both were, the case you were on right now was one of the worst and was only devolving more. What would usually have been an irritating question with snide comments had become the final straw. Unwittingly, you’d broken him. Eventually, he looked up at you from where he was leaning, and your heart broke. He didn’t have to speak for you to know how he felt.

“I know…I know it’s scary. I’m terrified.” His bottom lip trembles slightly, and you think about how you’d fight people tooth and nail to never have to see him so upset again, about how it gripped at your chest and stung your eyes every time you took in a breath. “But we can be scared together.”

There was no way to fix this, not alone, but therapy wasn’t something to bring up right now. Right now, the man in your arms clearly needed comfort and support, and that’s what you gave him. Hours pass with him half-cradled in your arms like a child, and eventually you wake up next to him, the pink light of a sunrise flushing his cheeks just like his own heartbreak had the night before. It was odd, seeing a man you knew to be so strong completely relying on you for stability, but at the same time it felt right. If Aaron needed a rock, that’s exactly what you’d be, there was no question he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. This wasn’t going to be easy, you’d have a lot of explaining to do to the team and your families, but you’d do it together.

Afraid, but in love without denial.

#leowrites #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x reader #angst #i've been feeling a little rusty so this may not be my best work just a prewarning

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pumpkinsy0 · 29 days ago

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could really use some darry and pony being happy happy brothers hcs!! darry comforting pony <33 slice of life between the two <333 just bein' there and alive

IM SORRY I GOT TO THIS LATE I WAS BUSY TODAY WHOOPS

•darrys totally that guy that asks pony what hes watching, get too absorbed in it, and end up staying there for longer than intended, pony asksing if he wants to watch w him takes some convincing

•the breakfast darry makes is mostly for pony, like ofc he cooks for the whole gang if they want some but its mainly food pony likes and food that darry says helps him wake up more, he doesnt like pony having chocolate cake allllll the time for breakfast

•when pony was younger he was reaaalllyyyy scared of getting jumped and darry would always comfort him about it, show him his muscles and show him there was nothing to b afraid of, even showed his muscles to make sure pony rlly knew nobody would mess w him

•no matter how old pony gets, darry is nevveeerrrr taking off ponys accomplishments off that fridge, it just stays there foreverrrrr n evveerrrrr

•in ponys opinion??? its darry who has the toughest hair right after him and soda, he likes to think that having cool hair is just in their genes or somethin

•they have veerrrryyyyy veerrrryyyyy small prank wars, their fav one is to just poke the other when they least expect it, on the side so they jump a lil, seeing darry yelp is very funny to pony, he regrets nothing

•when pony was too young to rlly know how to write, darry was the one who wrote his letter to santa claus for him so he didn’t feel left out, soda DID also write em, but his handwriting was NOT at the best

•when pony was in trouble he would always say he was gonna run away, farthest he ever got was a few yards from the front door and he stayed there for a hood long while before darry just carried him inside bc he looked tired, pony had the best naps those times, he can’t even lie

•darry would ask pony to do something for him and pony just says no, yknow what he would b doing in the next few minutes??? the exact thing darry asked him to do for him

•i promise u if pony went to school the same time darry did pony woulda got more cool points cause darry would make sure everyone knew, like everyone KNOWS they’re related, but that’s different from actually seeing this football star interacting w his lowkey kind of a loser youngest brother, but it’s ok, pony kinda had soda

•ONE TIME, darry ➡️ACCIDENTALLY⬅️ gave pony a black eye and he will NEVER let darry live that down, he tackled the shit outta pony, pony was so winded he thought he was gonna die, and that’s y chances r, ur always gonna have darry on pony’s team just so he doesn’t hurt the guy

•darrys said that pony would do WONDERS as a chimney sweeper during the industrial revolution and pony’s never been the same since, what in the world does he mean by that

•yknow that one pic of arnold schwarzenegger and his classmate who r both 18 but arnold is just buff as shit??? pony and darry totally have a pic like that somewhere in darrys wallet bc he thinks its funny

•pony kinda DOES hate when darry picks him up bc it makes him feel small, but he hates it even more bc it makes him feel safe, he wants to b tuff damn it but darry is very warm and he can only fight against it for so lone, darry knows lmao

•pony tried calling darry “dj” bc like his full name is darrel curtis jr, and as sooooonnnn as it left ponys lips they both cringed and pony stopped then and there

•when they all went hunting, darry was the only one who would actually KILL anything, he knew it kinda upset pony so they just dont even go no more, hell he kinda feels bad for it still

��

#ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #darrel curtis

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vcnillazelda · 2 years ago

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hey bubb!!

if your requests are open, could u write (if ur comfortable with) something about ghost x shy/civillian f!reader?

i hope that ur having a wonderful day and thank you!!x :)

my lovely

simon riley x reader

summary: simon comes home to you.

tags: civilian! reader, shy! reader, established relationship, fluff, marriage, domestic fluff bc i crave it didnjfjsdo

a/n: this is adorable gocjdidkkd. we’re getting to the point where we have to reuse gifs so i’m sorry about that 😭

✞———————❖———————✞

“my love?” a familiar voice calls. you perk up, putting your phone down. “simon?” you call back, and surely enough your husband peers into your shared bedroom. you smile brightly, getting up hug him. his warm arms wrap around your waist, scooping you up so your legs wrapped around his hips as the two of you finally reunite after six grinding months of not seeing each other. “i missed you so much..!” you tell him, squeezing him tightly. simon chuckles softly, kissing your temple as he carries you back to bed. “i missed you too, love.” he replies, setting you down as he changes from his work clothes. “do you mind if i shower?” he asks, soft brown eyes looking at you and you feel yourself falling in love all over again. “of course not, go shower. you deserve it.” you smile, and simon nods, giving you a parting kiss before heading to the bathroom with clean clothes.

he takes 15 minutes, immediately coming back to you after drying his hair properly. “come here..!” you smile, opening your arms to him. simon climbs onto the bed, kissing your lips sweetly. “i missed you so much.” you mumble, cusping his cheeks. “i missed you too, baby. i’m happy to be home again.” he sighs, weight pressing onto you. you hum softly, burying your face into his neck as simon lays atop of you. “how’s your six months been?” he asks, gently stroking your sides before rolling onto his side of the bed. you follow him, curling into his chest. “lonely.” you pout, it’s quite dramatic but you have to admit you were very lonely when simon was away. “m’sorry, baby.” he mumbles, kissing your pouty lips. “it’s okay. it’s your job, and i promised to always wait for you.” you smile, kissing over his jaw. “yet, i have to admit… recently i’ve been worried… you’ve been away for a long time simon, and without much communication. i’m scared i’ll get that news..” you whisper. simon grasps your chin, pulling you to look at him. “i would never leave you.” he declares, and you sigh. “you can’t control that.” you mutter, yet simon doubles down. “i will never abandon you, baby. never.” he states, kissing your lips.

“simon…” you frown, burying your head into his shoulder as his hand rubs your hip slowly. “don’t go all shy. i haven’t seen you in months.” he chuckles, kissing your neck. you hum softly, staying snuggled into his body. “i’m afraid of losing you, simon.” you repeat your worries to him, and simon sighs. “i wont die on you. you keep me going.” he replies, kissing your forehead. “i’ve had nightmares about it… i wish you could stay here longer.” you sigh, closing your eyes. “i’ll see what i can do… i want to be here with you.” simon responds, hand slipping from your hip and rubbing his back gently. “you don’t have to…” you mutter, shrinking into a small ball in your lovers grasp. “i want to. i want you to be happy.” simon practically purrs, kissing your forehead. “i love you…” you whisper, face ablaze with how flustered you had grown. simon let’s out a soft laugh. “we’ve been married for four years and you’re still so shy.” he muses, kissing your lips. you break into a soft smile, kissing him again. “get some rest, love.” simon mutters, lips gently pressing to your forehead.

“only if you’ll stay with me.” you respond, hands slipping under his shirt to massage the taunt muscles in his back. “i promised to always stay with you the day we got married.” he whispers as you relax further against him, fingers rubbing deep circles over his aching back. he hums softly. “i love you simon.” you mutter, kissing his slightly exposed collarbone gently. “i love you more, love.”

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sashi-ya · 1 year ago

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈... Yuuta Okkotsu x F! Reader

⤹˚ synopsis. a silent night, a very calm christmas eve night... a new dawn, on christmas day... the first christmas morning of the rest of your lives ~

tw: nothing, honestly. very, very sweet. a/n: personally inspired on my personal Yuuta Okkotsu, that I won't tag cause I don't want him to think this is an insinuation to get married 👀 well, unless he wants to 🤷‍♂️💕 jk, i love u. calm down. wc: 979.

Ruffled black hair; those perpetual dark circles that will never go away no matter how many nights he sleeps by your side.

You both preferred staying in your own department for Christmas eve. A delicious meal cooked by you two, watching the snow falling down so slow and so peacefully. Your first Christmas together, Yuta makes everything so special.

Both fell asleep in the couch, but he carried you to bed. Hugs, soft kisses on your forehead and cuddles… a silent night, a warm, safe, Christmas night.

You wake up first, in total silence, admiring the tiny little nose of your beloved Yuta pointing at you. His cheeks, a little reddish. His lips, barely separated. Not a single noise he makes, just a soft murmur.

Contemplating his soft features, your eyes get a little watery… it’s been long enough since he came back now, but it still amazes you how he turned your world upside down after waiting for him for three years.

You sniffle. You don’t wish for him to open his eyes and to see you cry. He would get worried; he would be sad and desperate to know what happened. Because Yuta is always worried he might have hurt you, that he might have done something wrong. But how could he?

You notice him moving a little, and his lip shutting. He swallows in his sleep, and so you decide to close your eyes. It is always cute to let him wake you up… even if you were already up.

“(Name)! (Name)! it’s Christmas morning!! Come on, I wanna give you my gift!” he chimes, happily. His loving hands, a little veiny and strong but still delicate, land on you. His caresses are as soft as if they were touching the wings of a butterfly, but as hot as a warming sun in the middle of a winter sky.

“mhh… hi ~” you murmur, noticing your voice is still too sleepy to be able to say much. You extent your arms to him, asking for him to cuddle on your chest. “c’mere”

“But, but… the gift!!” he protests, acceding too easily to your hug request.

Yuta snakes in between your arms, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You, like a caring protector, pull him close, surrounding him with your arms and the sheets.

“Can we stay like this for some time? I wanna give you my presents too, but for now… just rest a little bit in here” you beg, tracing little circles on his back. The hand you slipped in between his warm skin and his light grey t-shirt feels like heaven to him… to you.

“We can stay for as long as you want, (Name)” he murmurs, getting comfortable there.

Your eyes, a little bit unused to the light coming from the window, detect the imagery of soft flakes pouring from the sky in a slow-motion winter sky.

“It’s snowing today… such a cute gift, right?” you become stupidly poetic when it comes to him. Loving someone makes you an artist; a passionate lover willing to create beautiful art to express the feelings that are even thatyou’re your heart can’t fit inside.

He squirms a little; you notice him a little bit nervous. He probably took a lot of time to decide what to give you for Christmas, that’s probably what it is…

“It’s… ah… yes, a cute gift. Being with you, though… it’s even better” he whispers, kissing your lips ever so softly.

Even if both are grown ups now, and those days at the Tokyo Curse College are far in the past, the innocence has never abandoned you. With Yuta, you can be a child, and you don’t feel the pressure to act mature… being with him, it’s like feeling safe… like your problems never existed in the first place.

His dark grey eyes fix in yours, as if they wanted to say something, as if they wished to scream, to finally express something.

“Are you ok, Yuu?” you ask, taking your hand to his cheek. The tiny little freckles that are almost invisible to many, but not to you, create unique patterns on his skin.

“I… yes… I am a little bit nervous…” “Why?” “Because I am scared of you not liking my gift…”

You ruffle his hair. Anything, from a packet of gummy bears to his whole world, means exactly the same to you… Anything Yuta wants to give you, you consider it to be the most precious gift, a treasure to hold close, to protect, for your whole life.

“Yuta… you know… I-“ you start “lecturing” him about it, but he suddenly stands up from bed and runs away.

You are left there, speechless. What is this boy doing? Why is he leaving? What happened?

You can hear his steps going downstairs, and soon after coming back up. He runs until the very frame of your bedroom door, holding a little package inside his hands.

“I…” he wants to speak, but he clearly can’t. His cheeks have become as red as apples, fading even with his dark circles.

You sit in your bed, frowning. What is happening to him?

“Are you ok, babe? You are scaring me…” you mumble, watching him run towards the bed.

He slides inside and under the sheets again, this time with that little package in his hands. He covers both of you with the sheets, creating a safe fortress for you.

“Yuu?” you ask, confused but still giggly. “Open…” he mutters, giving you the little box in such sweet, shy way it makes you melt.

You see the content, but you don’t really needed to… you already knew.

“Of course I do…” “You do? Really?” “Yes…!” you chime, pouncing on him, kissing every little spot on his face, on his lips and neck.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Merry Christmas, my future… wife” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Merry Christmas, my future hubby”

#yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #jjk

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froznwater · 7 months ago

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im so sorry this is incredibly random but if i dont write alenoah i WILL die but i cant think of anything to write. do u have any simple ideas. ignore if not

HI!!! tysm for your ask <3 i hope you can find something to write amongst all the ideas. These are a bunch of ideas have written down in my notes/google drive/tumblr posts and have not got gotten around to. I still might at some point in time but feel free to use them. I will still do my own take if I get the time/motivation. There's simply so many, why not share and inspire some fics :)

----

General ideas:

Noah knows/learns spanish. Bonus points if Alejandro isn't aware until the perfect moment.

Alejandro thinks he can get away with flirting with Noah in spanish. Noah starts shit talking in spanish. Noah learns so he can hear all the little comments Alejandro keeps making under his breath. etc. so many possibilities.

Now that the show is over and Noah's off to college, he realizes he’s missing something in his life. Maybe it’s his friends, maybe it’s a lack of ever-looming danger, OR maybe it’s Alejandro. Who fucking knows. He’s too busy trying not to be in love with Alejandro to figure it out.

Their group project is failing, horribly. There’s one thing Noah knows for certain: Alejandro's to blame. At what point does slippery eel turn into a term of endearment?

They have never ever fallen asleep next to each other. Let alone in each other's arms. Never.

Time loop where Alejandro is stuck on the episode where Noah gets voted out and sticks himself to falling in love because he can’t let go of his pride long enough to simply let Noah stay in the game and move on.

Noah loses his contacts and starts wearing his glasses more often. Alejandro notices. Everyone notices Alejandro notices.

Alejandro and Noah team up to get their friends together (insert whatever ship you like) and end up together in the process/the other two were trying to do the same thing for them.

A commentary timeline on how Alejandro's charisma turn into exploitation, how Noah's patience turned into indifference, and how they parallel each other. (I've written a few hundred words for this one lol.)

Each thinks the other doesn't like them. Cut to third party POV that watches and witnesses them completely a mess for each other.

Noah, once voted out in I See London, learns about Alejandro's family. Who have been very vocal since the show started airing.

Exploration of how Alejandro tries really really hard. Yes, He's at the top of the class, but so is Noah. Noah who sleeps through classes and doesn't turn in homework and shows up late or simply not at all and is still right up there with him.

“I would kill to be like you. To just absorb all the information fed to me. If I were you I might actually- “(beat my brother) “Might actually what?” “I told you. I don’t want to talk about it, Noah.” - "Do you know how long I studied for that test? Hours. And you- You got a 96 with no effort at all." It was a 98. But this seems like a bad time to correct him.

Dialogue one-liners prompts i've written down:

"If we make it out of this alive, I'm going to kiss you."

“Why do I feel like I cant say no to you?”

"I know you don't actually care about me, but thank you for trying to pretend that you do." (Said by Noah is joking. Said by Alejandro is bitter.)

"You can't win against someone who has nothing to lose."(Alejandro OR Noah angst.)

Soulmate aus:

My big two: Telepathy/Mentally linked.(imagine this one as a wt rewrite omg) And Whatever you draw on yourself shows up on your soulmate. Matching tattoos.

First words on each other. (I've done this one already here. but feel free to do it as well!!)

Communicating through dreams. (If you know cardcaptor sakura; like that.)

General AUs:

Until dawn AU.

Gakuen Alice AU.

My Babysitters A Vampire AU. Zombie Apoc AU.

Harry Potter AU. Reality Dating Show AU.

Infinity Train AU!!!!!!

Veronica Mars AU!!!! (i wanna do this one ALOT noah is sooo veronica LMAO) OBLIGATORY IDEAS:

seven minutes in heaven.

wrong number.

trapped in a closet.

movie night. noah is sitting under alejandro and lol they are physically, platonically touching for awhile. (leads to finally getting together).

one gets injured, the other fixes them up in the nurses office :P.

short "prompt-ishs" i've started writing:

“What the hell is your problem, Alejandro?” And this time, the tone was so disgusted, so bitter, that something snapped, deep in Alejandro’s chest.

Fuck it.

“What’s my problem?” He asked, incredulous. “What’s my problem? You’ve got to be kidding me, Courtney. I almost died. I almost died, paralyzed and alone, and the only friend I thought I had didn’t give a single shit! The only person who cared was Noah, of all people. I quite literally come back to life and the only thing you can do is whine about your girlfriend problems.”

Courtney takes a step back.

“I was stuck in a robot for months, my legs barely work, my family moved on- actually, I don’t know if they ever actually even noticed,” He laughs, broken, “- and you have the audacity to ask me what my problem is?!”

Alejandro is over playing nice. He’s had enough.

this one is a rivals team up to get out courtney blurb

little idea about Alejandro getting into zodiacs.

moments where alejandro questions why Noah is so attractive

SEND MORE ASKS IF ANYONE HAS ANY QUESTIONS ON ANY OF THESE IDEAS!!! / IF THEY HAVE ANY IDEAS OR CONCEPTS TO ADD OR EXPAND ON :)))

#alenoah #fanfic #fanfics #total drama #total drama alenoah #td alenoah #ideas #masterlist

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trashytoastboi · 7 months ago

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Seven Days of Sin Event

~Angst Alphabet Shorts part 2~

> Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, Simeon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Diavolo

E: Emotion: What emotions do they tend to push away the most?

👑 He hides most of his honest emotions. If he’s angry his face is unchanging, if he’s upset, his face is unchanging, if he’s hurting, his face is unchanged. Diavolo has to bury a lot of his feelings and it’s gotten to a point where he sometimes forgets how to feel things properly. He’d feel discontent, something uncomfortable and gnawing inside him and he would ignore it. It’s not a necessary emotion, he’d push it aside. He’s confessed that he’s lost touch with himself and can’t identify his own emotions anymore.

I: Injured: How do they handle themselves when they’re injured?

👑 No one would know. It would be a closely guarded secret and even if he felt like he was about to keel over from the pain. He’d have to grit and bear it. Pretending everything is fine, and normal. If you found out, he’d tell you to act like nothing is wrong. Wouldn’t even let you help him. Accepting your help is accepting that he can’t handle it alone.

K: Kill: Would they kill for revenge

👑 Diavolo would want to. He truly would, if something drove him to that point. But his actions sway the Devildom even if they’re personal. He couldn’t allow a personal grudge to dictate his actions and turn him into a tyrant who abuses his station. He would punish them according to the law. Hoping for some justice because that's all he can do. For a role that has so much power it came with so many restrictions that kept him bound.

Barbatos

A: Accident: Would they blame themselves if you died in an accident?

🫖 Barb wouldn’t blame himself- because he knows he can do something to go back and prevent it. He refuses to let something happen to you. For something so meaningless to take your life. He won’t accept it. Barbatos would be too busy getting you back, preventing it. He wouldn’t tell you why, or the reality of what happened. He’d just make sure to keep you close, away from the accident until it’s come to pass.

U: Urge: How badly do they get the urge to see you after separating?

🫖 Barbatos would feel the tugging in his heart strings but would ignore it. Claiming that he has his responsibilities here, and shouldn’t be distracted by other things. Not even an overwhelming urge to see you. He’d make small slip ups, things that not many people would notice unless they really knew Barb. His thoughts keep pushing you to the forefront and he’d take a moment to send you a very heartfelt message from his D.D.D

X: X-Ray: What makes them transparent? How obvious could they get around something they hate?

🫖 If you’ve seen Barbatos around Solomon. You’d know it’s obvious when he’s around things he hates, rats for example. When it comes to things he has a very strong dislike for it’s not something he can hide easily and it’s easily noticeable in his face and disposition what his stance on something is.

Solomon

D: Death: How do they deal with any death?

🔮 He’s friendly with grief. They’re close acquaintances at this point. It’s become something so familiar Solomon isn’t so swayed by it. He’s said goodbye to so many people, those who met the ends of their natural life spans while Solomon was besides them. It hurts, although so familiar that it doesn’t drive him to tears like it used to. He’s even a slight bit envy towards those who've passed while he stays in his state of permanence.

H: H-Humiliation, How could they be humiliated?

🔮 People who bring up his past transgressions. Forever is a long time, and wisdom is a lifelong journey. In the height of his folly and ambition Solomon did make mistakes, mistakes that he has owned up to and sought redemption for. He’s tried to make things right and some have forgiven him, others have not and swear they never will. He’s tried to make his peace and he knows that, but for people who bring up the worst parts of him in the worst times…Especially to you, it’s humiliating. Because he never wanted you to know him that way.

M: Mistakes: How much do they want to fix the mistakes of their past?

🔮 He’s gotten to the point of accepting defeat and the fact that he can’t alter things that have happened. It was a bitter pill to swallow. Solomon has so many things he wishes he could take back. One of the darker wishes is becoming immortal. He regards it as his greatest mistake at times.

Simeon

H: Humiliation, How could they be humiliated?

🖋️ His failure to protect those who were close to him. It’s humiliating to have his failure thrown in his face and laid bare for everyone to see and judge him. Simeon knows, he’s the one most aware of that failure. Having others highlight it makes it sting painfully or when they chastise him for it. Raphael with his sharp tongue has an uncanny way of going for the throat and his words can make Simeon feel deeply shamed and humiliated with mentions of Simeon in the past.

M: Mistakes: How much do they want to fix the mistakes of their past?

🖋️ He regretted for the longest time not being able to persuade the brothers, not to convince them to stop. He sometimes thinks his silence and idleness contributed to the celestial war. It’s a big and heavy thing to blame himself for. He wishes he could go back and wish for a different outcome. One that didn’t result in such a split.

P: Pressure: What stresses them to the breaking point?

🖋️ His inability to ask for help and take on too many tasks. Simeon takes on too many things at a single time, he’s always more than happy to help but the result is that he’s taking on tasks from everyone and spreading himself thin amongst all those tasks. Simeon won’t tell them it’s overwhelming or ask for any help and it gets to the point when he feels like he’s going to break down because he can’t keep up.

Taglist: @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @roninfromtheops

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subskz · 1 year ago

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thoughts on free use with skz?

hmm i think chan, hyunjin, and felix might be into it the most!

channie wants to make himself useful to you in any way that he can, so ofc that extends to him letting you have him at any time and any place! that kind of devotion to your pleasure has channie written all over it~ he’d be so adorable abt it too, every time you sneak your hand under the waistband of his sweatpants out of nowhere, or grab hold of his ass and tell him to bend over, he reacts so timidly, like he doesn’t know exactly where you’re going w this. even more than the arousal he feels for what’s to come, it also just makes his heart race to know he’s wanted by you the point where you’ll take him at any time of day, sometimes multiple times a day. he’ll sit there trying his hardest not to squirm as you run your hands all over his body like you’re inspecting him to see if he’ll be of good use to you, feeling up every curve and muscle, pinching his nipples and squeezing his pecs and hips and thighs as if he’s a toy on display for you. he gets so red and stuttery, asking if he’s okay for you, promising he’ll do anything you want, whimpering so sweetly over every little way you tease his body, sometimes even yelping out when you stimulate an esp sensitive spot. he’s always so responsive and easy to fluster, that’s part of what makes it so much fun. it takes everything in him not to curl into himself and shy away from all the attention…even if he jumps and jolts and makes the most embarrassing noises, he wants to be obedient above all and let you have your way w him

he’d never forget to prep himself every day that ur free use agreement is in action! he takes it very seriously bc he just wants to make you happy, to hear you praise him for being such a good little toy, always ready to be played with <3 his stamina is also pretty good, you can ride him over and over again and he’ll keep pushing himself for you however many times you see fit, even when he’s completely spent and climaxed more times than his dizzy head can count. he’d also be more than willing to do the moving himself if you get tired and order him to satisfy you instead. he’s a natural at sevice topping, even if he doesn’t always last as long as he hopes to, he’ll let you drain every last drop of him and them some (or if you really wanna make good use of him, putting a cockring on him to keep him hard for you as long as you’d like 😽) i think his favorite thing would be when you’re reading or working or watching tv and you have him on his knees eating you out while you barely even pay attention to him. when he does manage to get an affectionate headpat or “good boy” out of you, it makes him beam with pride bc he knows that he earned it by doing well! he can’t help but let cute, happy lil noises slip out each time you do, feeding off your praises that he’s so starved for and working his mouth w even more enthusiasm no matter how tired he gets. he could stay like that for hours~

you would have to be careful though bc chan may push himself too far for you sometimes. so regular checkins to make sure he's still okay, or even sometimes deciding yourself that he can't go any further is important bc he doesn’t always do what’s best for him. you don't wanna hurt him after all ㅠ on off days, he may not ask it of you, but he needs to be spoiled rotten!! even if channie is willing to do almost anything to please you, he’s a softie at heart and loves nothing more than to be looked after in the gentlest of ways, esp after exerting himself so much for you during the week. he'd even offer to let you use him in the precious few hours he has for sleep, which you can honestly turn into an excuse to just fuck him to sleep so u can be sure he gets enough rest…tricking channie into being cared for 💗 he really gets off to the idea of being like an object of your pleasure, but his shyness interferes w that sometimes, making for the most endearing reactions ever. a meek lil “ah, wh-what are you doing?” when you pull his dick out, as if he’s not half-hard for you already. or a breathless giggle when you bring your fingers up to his plush lips in the middle of a conversation, acting sheepish for a moment before eagerly taking them into his mouth. or whining softly that it’s too embarrassing when you order him to stay shirtless for you at all times, only to get wildly turned on when he feels your eyes on him across the room. bc he’s so shy, this dynamic would definitely be limited to home and private spaces—even if the idea of you taking him in public, undressing him and wrecking him for everyone to see (maybe even joining in to use him too) makes his heart positively race. it’s more of an unattainable fantasy for him, but just having you whisper things in the middle of a scene that play into that fantasy is enough to satisfy that humiliating desire in him. esp if you mixed compliments in w it, telling him how everyone would want a chance at using his pretty body~ poor channie doesn’t have it easy being the world’s shyest exhibitionist ㅠ

hyunjin wants to completely belong to you. what thrills him the most abt free use is you having control over every little detail abt him bc he’s yours and you alone know what’s best for him, especially when it comes to his pleasure <3 on days where your dynamic is in action, he loves to let you choose what he wears, how he styles himself, even what he’s allowed to say and do (w certain limits ofc, hyune can still be a lil shy sometimes) he’s tried to obey one more than one occassion when you order him to stay completely undressed for you so you can take him at any moment, but even just walking around shirtless all day got him way too embarrassed and antsy ㅠ so he prefers you picking out his outfits for him, it feels more intimate, like a secret between you and him that he carries even when walking around in public. esp when it’s clothes that give you easy access to his body~ underwear that allows you to pull his dick out without having to remove it first, baggy sweaters that you can pull off of his torso w ease or slip your hands under to feel him up, short, dainty skirts that you can flip up to expose his underwear or unzip to make fall to his ankles when he least expects it, etc. he would absolutely wear a harness or loose shibari pattern underneath his clothes too ❤️‍🔥 he gets worked up extremely easily w you, just a few touches in the right places and he’s positively melting as if he’s the one seeking out pleasure instead of you. so needless to say, his sensitivty makes it very convenient for using him whenever the urge strikes hehe he’s always ready for you

i think hyune would fantasize a lot abt u sharing him w others, but realistically he may not actually wanna do it bc the hopeless romantic in him can't be overpowered, not even by his lust. he’s too devoted to you and he takes your relationship very seriously...we all know how he feels abt even hypothetical scenarios that involve looking at ppl other than ur partner 😭 he just wants to be your perfect doll tailored just for you. all that being said, the thought of being passed around between you and a group of others admittedly still excites him in a way he can’t explain. he may even shyly confess it to you one day so you can play into the fantasy a bit—get possessive over him, ask him why you’d ever let anyone have what belongs to you, degrade him for being such a whore that even you fucking him at all hours of the day isn’t enough to satiate him. he absolutely loves when you remind him who he belongs to. tell him that his dick is all he’s good for as you ride him until he’s cum more times than he can count, tell him that he’s molded to your shape when you peg him, tell him that he only exists for your pleasure when he gives you head. it’s intense, but it makes him absolutely crazy, he loves the possessiveness aspect of this dynamic the most. he wants to be covered w your marks at all times, all over his neck, his thighs, his stomach, his chest, like he’s a canvas for you to paint red and purple as a constant reminder that you own him. also…somnophilia 🙏 he’s already such a heavy sleeper so it makes for the perfect opportunity to incorporate it into the dynamic. when he falls asleep w that specific pair of shorts on to let u know anything goes, he’ll often wake up dazed n disoriented to find your mouth all over him, or that he’s deep inside of you just seconds away from climaxing, or with your fingers stretching him open to prepare him for your strap. and ofc his personal favorite, waking up to find his face coated w drool and juices as you grind down on it, using his perfect lips to your heart’s content. all the while, ur teasing him for being so ready to be used that he doesn’t even wake up to it, he just lies there and takes it all like he was made for <3

lix is a mix of both! he loves being of service to you, and he also just loves the idea of being owned by you. aside from physical touch, i think his favorite way to show love would be acts of service, so that makes free use right up his alley~ not to mention he seems like he’d have a pretty high sex drive…dont be fooled by his innocent looks! he’d be ready to go at any hour, even more so than hyunjin 😽 he’s like your sweet lil housecat who stays home all day looking pretty, cooking and baking, and waiting for you to give him affection whenever you see fit—sometimes, even seeking you out for it. with lixie i think on certain days he’d need to be allowed to initiate w you in this dynamic, bc he can be even more itching to go than you are and constantly wants to remind you that you can take him any time you want~ he leans into the role so naturally, you’d think he was waiting for smth like this his entire life hehe. aside from cooking and doing you lil favors, he loves to give you massages. not necessarily always in a sexual manner but they can turn that way pretty quickly. he works his little hands so well, even the most innocent touches can feel so sensual, and the satisfaction that comes from releasing all that tension in your body makes it very tempting to put your pretty boy to work in a different way. before he knows it he’s lying there w his tongue hanging out as you ride his face, pawing at your thighs like he’s continuing your massage~ he likes to wear a collar on free use days to let you know that anything goes, with a cute lil tag that says his name or smth cute like “kitty” or “plaything ♡” when you hear his bell jingling around the house, you know you’re in for a very fun day

he loves when you fuck him while he’s cooking!! it excites him like nothing else that you just have to take him right there and now, and like a good toy he has to be ready to service you. he likes it when you interrupt him when he’s in the middle of anything, honestly, it’s the most thrilling part of the dynamic to him and it makes him feel so proud when he’s able to be useful to you at any given moment, bc what you want is always more important than what he’s doing. lix would definitely be the type to wear a plug all day so he can be prepped any time you want to use him, one of those cute fluffy tail plugs to be exact. he’d be very into the catboy role 🥰 when he feels you tug on his tail w one hand as the other sneaks under his apron, his brain immediately turns to mush and he bends over the counter, not even bothering to hide his lil giggles of excitement or how he grinds back against you so eagerly, begging for you to take him. he tries his best to keep cooking for as long as he can as you’re fucking him and it’s so adorable to watch him fumble w the utensils and ingredients until eventually he’s just clawing uselessly at the counter and you have to stop him so he doesnt hurt himself and just slumps against it ): like hyune i think lix might have a fantasy of being passed around between you and a group of other ppl hehe…and unlike hyunjin he’d actually be willing to try it, as long as it’s smth you’d be into too! he’d definitely only want you to share him w your friends though, probably not strangers bc he still wants to feel a lil safe and secure abt it…he’s not quite that bold yet. the thought gets him so nervous and shy but wildly turned on at the same time, being doted on and touched and put to work by so many ppl at once would be like his own personal heaven~ he wouldn’t mind being roughed up either, as long as you guys are praising him and encouraging him the whole time for being such a good toy!! hearing all the coos and murmurs of approval as he’s being fucked senseless makes him happier than anything. it would also make him absolutely crazy if you talked abt him as if he wasn’t there through it all, just making comments amongst yourselves abt what a perfect little slut he is, how well you’ve trained him, how much he likes it when he’s filled in every possible way <3 you catch him smiling so dreamily every time your friends speak fondly of him bc he just feels so good satisfying so many ppl at once, he just wants to be useful! and he does admittedly bask in all the attention a lil bit, he can’t get enough of all the hands on him. he’s definitely the type to reach out for you and gaze straight up at you while someone else is ruining him bc he still wants to feel closest to you hehe

#sorry channie’s part is so disgustingly long it’s a fundamental flaw in me #ask #💌 channie #💌 hyunie #💌 lixie

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angeart · 7 months ago

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hhau mimic arc rambles - part III: aftermath

(~5,5 k words) // other parts & au masterpost here

After Grian and Scar reunite, they’re tucked away in a makeshift shelter—nothing too grand, but good enough for a small pause, a little bit of rest, a faint semblance of respite.

Except, turns out, it might have to be a more permanent place to stay than they’ve thought.

It’s almost in a haze that they deal with wounds and all the other immediate things, and then Grian’s curled up and pressed against Scar, asking if they’re safe. Are they safe? Can they rest? He hasn’t had a chance to rest for a week straight—a week of moving, of running, of adrenaline and stress and, literally, fighting for his life. He’s frayed, barely holding on.

Scar assures him he can sleep. Despite the syrupy way everything feels, despite the disconcerting flicker of magic hue crawling across his skin, despite the lightheadedness that terrifies him because it reminds him of the weakness potions— He still intends to take the first watch. To guard Grian and let him rest.

Grian doesn’t need to hear more than that little assurance. Scar is warm and he’s here and Grian finally—finally—feels safe. Hopeful, even. Like maybe things will start looking up now. Like as long as his arms are draped over Scar, holding onto him, things will be okay.

He blacks out pretty fast, slinking into a deep pit of dreamless sleep.

Scar tries, he really tries to be a good guard. To stay alert and ready for any potential threat. But as he’s slumped underneath Grian’s reassuring weight, feeling his small even breaths against him, he can’t help it. His own exhaustion’s gnawing at him, stripping him of choice, and he finds himself drifting in and out of consciousness.

Thankfully, nothing attacks them.

Grian sleeps for hours, and he wakes up dazed and disoriented after a much needed rest. It’s chilly, but not outright cold, and it takes him a moment to parse through everything to realise it’s Scar’s warmth and the weight of the cloak securely over his wings that make things so much better, curling a tentative, fragile safety behind his ribcage.

His wounds throb and his stomach churns, running on empty, but it all feels distant as Grian shifts and looks up at Scar’s sleeping face. The familiar map of scars stretching across muddied skin. Long lashes fluttering gently as Grian lifts his hand and lightly touches the stubble on his jaw, feeling the flood of fondness and grounding at the familiarly prickly texture.

His gaze jumps higher, tracing everything, taking Scar in.

Until he snags at a patch of white.

Grian jolts.

He pushes himself up and with careful hands brushes through Scar’s hair, letting his fingers slip through the white streak that starkly contrasts with the brown. He makes sure it’s not just dirty from something; that the white is real, not smudging across his fingers; a permanent mark left on Scar, a touch that this world now left on him forever.

He waits with uneasy patience, pressed close to Scar, refusing to put any distance between them. (He needs to see and feel and hear that Scar is here. That this isn’t a trick of his mind. That this isn’t some wretched half-dream.) (Scar came back. Scar came back, he found him, and— And his skin pulsed in pale blue (something that’s now thankfully gone), and his wings were tattered, and he’s got a white streak in his hair.) (Grian’s insanely worried.) (He can’t take it. He can’t take it if Scar leaves him again after all of this, in any way shape or form.)

Once Scar’s awake, with a tense little bird curled in his arms, the first thing he does is kiss the top of Grian’s head. (It feels natural.)

Grian squirms and looks up at him and he asks him, quietly, if he’s okay.

He gets back a grimace, a faltering pause, a clear hesitation.

He points out Scar’s hair, and notes how Scar’s equally as surprised as he was.

Scar blames the magic. With an awkward laugh, he says he probably overdid it. It’s gonna be fine.

Grian’s suspicious and still uneasy, but lets the explanation pass. Says they need to go find some supplies, food, maybe a better shelter.

Scar, usually eager to follow any plans that lead directly towards their survival, falls silent at that.

What falls eventually past his lips is a quiet, “I can’t.”

The sheer amount of weakness potions, the overextertion, the overuse of magic—it all culminates into an awful flare up, leaves Scar depleted and immobilised and incredibly vulnerable. And Grian’s seen a bad flare-up before. Only once when it was really bad, back in Boatem.

But back then, there was a big bed, and safe walls, and a fridge stocked with food. All Grian really had to do at that point was to keep Scar some company and occasionally fetch things from the kitchen.

Now? Now they have nothing.

They have a shelter that could barely hold upon inspection of alert eyes. They have a few sips of water left. It’s cold and harsh here, nowhere to really rest comfortably, and there’s nothing to eat.

Grian hates this. Feverishly, fervently, he hates this. He wants to make things better for Scar, but that means going out. It means losing sight of Scar and simply hoping he’ll still be there when Grian returns. (A fear that makes him feel viscerally nauseous.) (He thinks of returning back to an empty shelter, Scar and Juni both gone without a trace.)

It also means leaving Scar behind when he can’t defend himself.

The fate is stringing them up and playing with them as it twists their very first encounter and shakes it upside-down—back when Scar tucked Grian into a makeshift hiding place and had to tear himself away from him, leave him alone and defenceless without being sure Grian will still be there—or be alive at all—when he returns, as he had to go get supplies for their survival.

Now it’s on Grian to return the favour.

He pushes down the clawing edge of panic, gently brushes Scar’s hair aside with a shaky hand, and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. Asks him to sit tight for him. Promising he’ll be back.

The words shouldn’t feel like farewell, but they’re bitter on his tongue, and even worse in Scar’s exhausted mind. (He thinks about how he left Grian and didn’t come back to him. Leaving him completely alone, without a weapon or supplies. He thinks of the wounds that now mar Grian’s skin as a result, a reminder of a time when Scar should’ve been there but wasn’t.)

Grian always felt like he’s the burden. Like he’s the beacon, the weak link, the one to constantly drag danger and doom to them. He wonders if now Scar’s mind awfully echoes those thoughts that always plague Grian. (A distant memory of Grian asking Scar to leave him behind because he’s nothing but a dead weight slithers and burns through Grian’s mind.) (He’s not going to accept or even entertain those words should Scar ever utter them back.)

With a hastily put-together screen of dead branches and rocks, Grian tries to hide Scar away, telling him to rest.

(They both try to ignore the spike of anxiety. The way it feels final. The way it feels like this is it, another cliff edge that crumbles beneath their feet and gives them nothing to hold onto to prevent the fall.)

As Grian moves, he’s overcome with lightheadedness that threatens dark spots across his vision. His own body is depleted, barely working. Starving. He grits his teeth, takes mental note of where the hideout is, and delves deeper into the forest all on his own anyway. (He has to. He has to.)

There’s something absolutely horrible about the way he recalls the best ways to forage for food in a pinch. It’s something Juni taught him. An ironic thing, to be taught survival skills by a person who never cared whether Grian lives or dies. A person who abandoned him so very easily, leaving him in a way that almost guaranteed Grian’s demise. (And yet here he is, pushing on.) (And he’s going to keep pushing, until he’s back at Scar’s side. Until he knows Scar is okay.)

The only reason why he can now finally gather some scraps of food is because he has the cloak, shielding the violet hues of his feathers, enveloping him in muted tones that match the wintery deadness of the world around. He’s still careful as he stumbles around on unsteady limbs, crouching through his dizzy spells, trying to keep track of directions.

He makes it back to Scar, instantly welcomed by needy arms pulling him closer. Scar’s heart was tearing itself to pieces every second that Grian was gone, terrified. (What if Grian needs him out there?) (What if something happens to him?) (What if Grian never was here actually, what if that was all a weird fever dream, a lingering effect of too much magic and weakness potions?) (What if Scar is alone, and Grian’s also alone, and nothing will ever be fixed?)

Scar is insanely clingy after being separated. (Grian is too, to be fair.) With a chest full of heartache, Grian is aware of why Scar’s like that—that he’s afraid and guilty—but it does feel nice. It’s so very needed. Grian’s been alone and barely keeping himself alive through the horrors—the wounds and scars are there to show it—so when he has Scar back? He’s so desperate to reclaim that tiny fragment of safety. He keeps thinking it’ll slip through his fingers. That the moment he looks away, the moment he stops holding on, Scar will be gone again.

This all makes Grian’s repeated foraging trips that much harder, for both of them.

At one point, Grian finds a better hiding place, but doesn’t mention it, knowing Scar wouldn’t be able to make the trip. It doesn’t need to weight on Scar, that pressure of failure; the last thing Grian wants is for Scar to push himself more when he already came so close to a complete collapse.

And then there comes a day when Grian doesn’t return for far too long. Scar is worried sick, mind spinning with scenarios, each more horrible than the last, the anxieties taking over.

What if Grian doesn’t return at all?

But he does.

He comes back at the brink of dusk, coated in blood which, for the most part, isn’t his. (>> bonus ramble about that titled hunted <<)

No other incidents beyond that occur as they try to recuperate, pulling themselves together and trying to slot back into a semblance of normalcy, curled against each other’s side in their little, barely-sufficient shelter.

-- please stay --

They spend a couple of days stay put, Grian attentively fussing over Scar, chastising him whenever Scar feels like maybe he should help with things. Once Scar sleeps less and is more aware and awake, their new dynamic truly settles into place: the over-eager clinginess underlaced with guilt and fear and endless stumbling for reassurance.

One night, Scar whispers a soft, mumbled string of words into Grian’s hair. He’s thanking the worlds, the gods, the fate, anything and everything, that Grian is alive. His fractured, fragile gratitude spilling out of him in a string of half-formed sentences that aren’t meant to be heard by the sleeping avian in his arms.

Except Grian shifts and, turns out, he wasn’t quite asleep yet.

Scar shifts his words, redirects them to ones that belong to Grian and Grian alone: a string of gentle praises. That Grian stayed alive, he was so strong, so brave. Scar is so sorry.

And somewhere amidst it all: “Thank you for waiting for me. I’d never leave you, never, never—” (Except he did, even if unwillingly, unintentionally, unknowingly, and the reality of it is killing him.)

Grian has that But you did on the tip of his tongue. It tastes acidic. He doesn’t want to say it.

Instead, he just burrows closer and tightly shuts his eyes. Trying so so so hard not to think about just how long Scar didn't even realise that Grian wasn't there.

Of course Scar tried to explain, over and over. That he was weakened, dizzy, confused, scared. But it just feels like hollow excuses on his tongue. It doesn’t change anything about it, about the fact that it happened. That he didn’t even know it was happening, until it was almost too late.

In the end, Scar’s intentions and his promises amount to nothing.

He often trails off. He feels like he doesn’t deserve to cover up the searing guilt with a pile of feeble explanations, his eyes drawn to the wounds and scars that litter Grian’s skin, marks that might’ve not been there if only Scar was around. A dire reminder that Grian could’ve died, and Scar would be none the wiser.

He swallows down the excuses and tries to make up for it, to show rather than to speak the volume of his feelings. The reverent touches to Grian’s scars, his affection, his tight hold and kisses pressed into Grian’s hair.

Grian doesn’t know how to feel about any of it. It’s a tangled mess that feels too heavy and painful to untangle.

During his time alone, he didn’t know if he got abandoned, or if Scar got killed. Somehow, those seemed like the only options in his mind. To have it turn out that Scar was tricked away from him—tricked so easily—that he didn’t mean to abandon Grian, and yet failed to realise that Grian wasn’t by his side for days…

Scar finds himself apologising frequently, quiet, somber. But Grian doesn't really want those apologies. They don't make it stop hurting. They don't put lid on that thick, overflowing uncertainty that took root in his soul.

Whenever his feelings slip and spiral a bit too much, he keeps begging Scar to stay. He pleads for him to not leave him again, in a choked, broken, terrified voice.

He tells Scar he won't be able to take it the second time. He won't, he won’t.

That breaks Scar’s heart. It’s suffocating, absolutely horrible. Scar can’t even vocalize a decent response. He just shakes his head, holds Grian tighter, and weeps.

-- a familiar face --

It takes Scar a while to realise just how traumatising the whole thing was for him. Because it was more than just being terrified of losing Grian or overexterting himself. He was basically kidnapped. Tricked. Poisoned. His trust betrayed in such an absolute, irrevocable way. And the worst part of it is that Juni used Grian’s face to do all those things to him.

It keeps tripping Scar up, in unguarded, jolting moments. He finds himself sweepingly overcome with doubt, abruptly terrified that this is all a lie—that he’s still with the wrong person, being strung along, stuck in a trap he doesn’t know how to escape.

When Grian offers Scar some water, Scar finds himself hesitating. Should he drink it? What if it’s dosed with weakness? Is this just another trick? — But he doesn’t know how to check. He can’t touch Grian’s feathers. He can’t ask.

He can’t admit he’s not sure.

Grian searches Scar’s eyes, confused why Scar wouldn’t take it from him. He calls his name softly, a question that goes unanswered.

But he thinks he knows.

He knows, because Scar looks at him with the kind of unsure, frightened expression teetering on distrust that could only be rooted in one cause.

So in the evenings, Grian slots next to Scar and talks. About Hermitcraft. About past memories and plans that never came to be. About things only he would know.

He aches talking about it, but once he connects Scar’s hesitation to the fact that the mimic was wearing Grian’s face (a fact that he hates; it makes him sick to his stomach, he feels tainted, violated in ways he can’t express), he knows he has to.

First time, it all comes out wobbly and fragmented. He doesn’t get far. He can’t. The memories hurt.

But he keeps trying.

It makes Scar feel so much better. He holds Grian close and whispers an emotional little “thank you.”

-- anchor, memories, and self --

One evening, all that Grian offers is a quiet, sorrow-riddled “I miss Mumbo.” Just that. (It has to be enough.) (He doesn’t want to keep talking.)

It makes Scar choke-sob a laugh. It’s so sad, but it’s so honest, and familiar. (He misses him too.) He nods, and lets the confession linger, fill up the space between them where another person should be.

Grian curls against him, falling silent. Sad. Clingy.

They don’t say anything else that night.

But the issue persists. Of course it does, Scar himself still wrangling with the aftermath of everything, processing it and trying to find his footing. To look at Grian and really, truly understand who it is he’s looking at, without a sliver of doubt.

Grian hates that confused, searching look Scar gives him sometimes without meaning to. In little moments like when he’s tired, or just after waking up. Groggy from sleep that feels like a dose of weakness.

It feels like something was stolen from him and Grian doesn’t know how to repair it. It just hurts.

But he can’t keep talking about Hermitcraft to make it better every single time. It sets a vicious kind of pain alight within him, traps it in his ribcage for it to bloom and grow razor-sharp thorns, reminding him of everything they lost and aren’t getting back. He’s been avoiding thinking about Hermitcraft for so long, and now it’s here, pressing against the edges of his skull like wildfire.

It tastes like ashes on his tongue, like grief-drenched nostalgia, like everything he wishes to have back—every single person they lost along with their safety and home.

They’re never going to hear Mumbo’s awkward laughter again. They’ll never hear Doc grumblingly chastise them for being crazy and annoying. They’ll never see Pearl’s eyes crinkle in laughter, or Impulse’s eyes widen as they set some prank right at his feet.

They’ll never again make silly meeting rooms and pointlessly huge builds constructed for no other reason than a whim. They’ll never run to each other with inspiration chasing in their footsteps, feeling free, toppling into their friends’ arms along the way. They’ll never again hear the sound of their laughter melding in with others’, mingling into one big melody that keeps them trapped in a mutual giggling fit.

Never, never, never.

It’s all gone, and remembering hurts.

He can’t keep thinking about that, day after day after day, even if it’s to keep Scar afloat. It would consume him.

So even though it seems like the best tool to prove to Scar who he is, and he’s always glad that it helps Scar feel calmer and more secure, ultimately making it worth it every time, it doesn’t mean it’s easy—not in the slightest.

So Grian tries to implement other things. Subtle little gestures. Nonverbal language that is still closely rooted in their own intimate experiences—namely brushing his fingers over Scar’s ear.

And then he builds on it, adds to it, lends it some habitual intricacy like a secret code only the two of them will ever understand. Tracing the same swirly pattern under Scar’s ear with his fingers each time, then kissing the spot. (A little I love you ritual.) Interlacing their fingers while purposefully gathering the ribbon between their palms, or wrapping an end of it around scar’s finger.

He tells Scar his favourite spots to kiss.

He kisses them often, in a pattern.

All these things, gathered like a silent plea. It’s me. Please believe me. I love you. Stay.

Scar adores this little ritual, but he also realises why Grian is doing it—that Grian knows Scar is confused sometimes when he sees his face. And it breaks his heart, because he never got it wrong before. He wants to believe he couldn’t be fooled in his right mind, but how can he be sure, after everything that happened?

Eventually, Scar says it. He grabs Grian by his cheeks, looks at him seriously, and instead of this dance they’ve been doing around the topic, he says: “I know it’s you.”

He kisses Grian in that pattern they’ve come accustomed to. Kisses him on the lips. Keeps holding his face so so gently.

Grian tears up, gaze jumping between Scar’s eyes. Breathless and wavering, he shoots back a challenging but afraid, “Do you?”

That breaks a stitch in Scar’s patched up broken heart. He swallows hard, but insists. “Yes, I do.”

“Okay,” Grian whispers, and it’s still so wobbly. So very raw and emotional. He closes his eyes and leans into Scar’s touch, and it’s so trusting. So giving. He wants this to be true. He wants this to keep being true. “I’m here,” he manages to murmur. He is here, and so is Scar.

Scar nods. “You’re here.” And he normally says “I’m here”, but right now it feels more important to show how sure he is that Grian is.

It sucks how easily that asuredness was overwritten. Scar never mistook Grian and Juni for each other before. (Not even before the mimic altered his appearance slightly. Those moments when he’d look like Grian, approach Scar and touch his arm. When Grian’d bristle from across the way, just barely out of sight. Scar always responded accurately. He always innately knew it wasn’t Grian.) (It soothed Grian then, to see that. To have that sliver of security when everything else felt so awful.) (And yet… And yet.) The one time it did happen, it was so devastating, and now they’re both left in the warzone of the aftermath, trying to pick up the pieces and rebuild something that could hold.

Because now sometimes when Grian touches Scar, Scar reacts slightly off.

Because now Scar doesn’t know how to trust himself (or Grian) anymore.

Grian watches Scar slightly flinch, that miniscule, unsure, instinctive recoil, and he feels sick to his stomach.

But they’re in this together. They’re here, both of them, and they’ll keep building from ruins until something sticks.

-- scars and permanent damage --

This is also the time when they acquaint themselves with the permanent damage marks on their bodies.

Grian has new scars, some of them facial. They’re something Scar is forced to see all the time, knowing he wasn’t there for it. Knowing they happened while Grian was alone, struggling, fighting for his life. (If Scar was there, maybe it wouldn’t have happened—)

They don’t have mirrors, only murky water at best. Grian doesn’t even know how his face looks like now, for a long while. He can feel the scarred skin, once it stops being too tender to touch, but he prefers to keep his hands off it.

Scar touches Grian’s face, though. Gently, tenderly. He caresses the wounded bits of skin. There’s sadness to it, but also determination and acceptance. Because it means Grian’s survived. It means Grian is still alive, and Scar is now here, and he isn’t going to let anyone else touch him again. (Or, he will do his best, anyway.) (Wounds are a harsh inevitability in this world, after all.)

Once Grian gets a hint of his reflection, staring at himself and hardly recognising his face—for multiple reasons—he traces a hand across his own cheek, in a pattern he recognises from Scar’s soft touch. Feels the difference. Explores the edges, everything that’s now going to be forever a part of him. (Until he dies. Which will probably be sooner rather than later anyway, he thinks.)

He can’t exactly say he hates those scars—it’s not like he doesn’t love every inch of Scar’s face, scars regardless. But it still feels different and strange. Foreign. It makes him feel vulnerable. It makes him realise he’s been hurt, in some deep, irreversible way. (The ugly damage on his heart is finally visible—) He’ll never be the same.

He tries not to touch his face too much, or look for his reflections. But at the same time, he craves Scar’s touch against the parts of him that are so clearly broken and changed. Scar’s fingers are soft and comforting, filled with heartache. Loving, despite everything. And Grian needs that.

He’s so used to tracing Scar’s scars and kissing the pattenrs of his skin, adoring every single bit of it. But this? This is new to him. He feels unsure and shy, fragile under Scar’s fingertips.

Scar’s vulnerabilities also get revealed at around this time. When they met up, Grian caught a frantic glimpse of Scar’s wings, but there was too much panic and choking emotions to really process and address it until later.

Scar’s wings were torn to tatters months ago, and he’s kept quiet about it. Meticulously hiding them away from Grian’s sight, the secret heavy, burning through him like a lit coal. But Grian doesn’t know that—not at first.

He thinks that Scar’s wings got hurt while they were separated. While Scar was left with Juni. But as he thinks about it more… When was the last time he saw Scar’s wings?

Sheepishly, Grian asks Scar about it.

And Scar is forced to admit it happened a long time ago. That he was hiding it from him.

It stings Grian, the knowledge that Scar felt like he couldn’t tell him. That he suffered alone, tucking something so significant away.

(And it’s true the circumstances of it all were horrible—when it happened, Grian certainly wasn’t in a state to process it correctly or deal with it; he was barely alive and in the depths of a rising fever. But there were still plenty of weeks and months since, when Scar could’ve taken the chance and tell him.)

(He didn’t know how.)

(Scar himself was afraid to face the damage. To see the tattered remains of his wings. To feel what’s happened to them.) (It was much preferrable to hide them and pretend it away.)

Softly, Grian asks if he can see them. (He wants to see it; he wants to bear it together with Scar; he wants to be there for him and show gentleness, especially because this is about wings of all things.) He instantly backpedals, saying Scar doesn’t have to—especially if it would hurt.

But Scar does it before Grian can fully take it back.

It feels like a deep breath after holding it in for so long, but it’s also like a broken choke on that very same air; it feels so wrong to let them loose, but he does it. He shows Grian the extent of the damage, offers the vulnerable undersides of his shredded wings so willingly.

Grian half reaches out, then pauses. Looks over their state.

It’s horrible.

He asks, very quietly, if it hurts.

Scar’s heart leaps in his chest at that small reach, but then he pulls himself together and shakes his head. It doesn’t hurt. (Not anymore.)

Grian retracts his hand, falling silent. He doesn’t want to touch uninvited, but he isn’t sure how else to show Scar some softness and comfort. He settles for leaning in and pressing a kiss to his jaw.

It feels like an apology, and like love.

His hands wrap around Scar’s torso and he buries his face in his shoulder, simply holding him. He asks, muffledly, if they will heal? Do vexes heal over time? Scar has plenty of scars on him, but his wings are technically made of magic, so maybe they’re different?

Scar doesn’t have the answers to those questions. He doesn’t know.

Grian hugs him tighter around his middle and kisses his shoulder. He thanks Scar, for pulling them out at his request. For showing him. (There’s a lump in his throat that tells him that Scar hid this from him, for so long. He swallows it down.)

Scar mutters a quiet “Of course.”

Slowly, he’s realising just how much he wants Grian to touch his wings, but he has no idea how to ask for it when it’s something Grian can’t fathom in reverse. He can’t bring himself to ask, but he opts to wrap his wings around the both of them, even if they’re broken and offer practically nothing. (And, truthfully, it does hurt a little to strain them after all the time of them being put away with unhealed wounds, but he needs this.)

Grian shudders, taking a choked breath. He presses himself closer against Scar, trying to navigate the abrupt onslaught of emotions. Something about hurt wings and vulnerability and pain, and— The feeling of wings wrapped around him is so comforting, even despite their state. Even despite everything. His brain goes a bit haywire, thinking flock and protection.

-- kindness that persists --

They eventually talk about Juni. Little fragments of conversations that feel like tripping over uneven ground.

Scar admits he doesn’t know what the mimic wanted from him. If it was security, or something else entirely. He’ll never really know.

At some point, Grian asks, quietly. “Is he dead?”

Scar sighs, not sure how to feel about his answer. “... No.”

It’s a weird and unpleasant mix of feelings for them both.

Part of Grian wishes the mimic was dead—it would end some of the anxiety. But of course Scar didn’t do it, and another part of Grian is immensely glad for it. There’s something incredibly soothing about how much of Scar’s humanity remains intact despite everything this world throws at them. But even then, the awful feeling in the pit of Grian’s stomach remains, acidic and conflicted.

Because if the mimic is alive, he might return.

Because as long as he breathes, this might not be over.

Scar feels vile, admitting Juni is alive. It’s the first time he’s ever felt sick about not killing someone. Because what if not killing the mimic means failing in protecting Grian? It leaves too much room for this to come back and harm them again.

Being soft is what got Scar into this situation to begin with. Trusting too much, giving too much.

He felt sure about it before. Relieved he didn’t kill him. But what if he should have? Because that was once again being too damn soft and maybe he shouldn’t be.

He becomes quieter again after this. Feeling like he needs to try to be stronger, less like himself. His vex instincts rumble beneath his skin as he spirals, urging him to kill anything that threatens him and his partner.

Scar is convincing himself softness truly is a weakness. That he needs to change.

One night, he’s swelling with too many emotions as he holds Grian tight—guilt, affection, a little bit of doubt again. His chest flickers with blue light, a sign of distress, and he croaks out, “Am I—” What’s the word even? Weak? Too kind? A fool? He goes with, “Do I need to change?”

Grian squirms in his arms, peeks up at him. “No, Scar. No, nono.” His voice is stitched through with a mixture of emotions—urgency and confusion, a soft shushing and deep, rich tenderness. His fingers gently brush Scar’s face and he presses a kiss to his jaw. “Don’t change. Be my Scar. Not somebody else.”

Scar’s eyes well up with tears and he ducks his face into Grian’s shoulder, breath hitching with a sob, overwhelmed by an abrupt tide of feelings—especially upon hearing the words my Scar. It makes him ache, but in a good way.

Grian wraps his arms around him and lets him cry. He caresses and kisses his hair and murmurs soft, reassuring things to him, hoping to make it all at least slightly more bearable. To anchor him somewhere safe. Somewhere where Scar can remain himself, despite all the horrors that suffocatingly pile up on them.

Scar’s voice is small and muffled against Grian’s sweater. “What if… I get us hurt?” There’s a shaky breath afterwards, sounding quite a bit like a choked “Again.”

Grian holds on a little tighter. “It won’t be your fault.” It would be the world’s, and those who actually hurt them. He needs Scar to understand that. With another kiss pressed to Scar’s hair, he pulls away slightly, urging Scar to look at him, to meet his eyes. “I need my Scar. I need—” He chokes up a little, his vision turning blurry.

Instead of finishing whatever he was going to say, Grian leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. Murmuring a small apology that all this pressure was on Scar. Promising he’ll do better, that it’s the two of them against the world—that Scar isn’t alone in this fight.

Scar doesn’t want Grian’s apologies, but… he likes this way of putting it. Them against the world.

He doesn’t need to lose his kindness. He just needs to focus it on the only person who matters.

#hhau #mimic arc #here we have some of the aftermath!!#lingering doubts and fears and so much anxiety #we get a flare up!#and white hair streak!#pattern of kisses and a truckload of grief #if you look at the au outline you might notice this aftermath part will have TWO main rambles #(the length of this one probably explains why xcknbk)#had to rearrange things a li'l bit #reformat the outline to squeeze it in #but i did it!!#part two of these main aftermath rambles will be focused on the events that happened at a hot spring cave :3c #which was fully and extensively rpd so i'll have to go through that first #but look forward!!#and also i have one bonus ramble ready!!#it's the [hunted] one #it's about that time when scar was hidden away and grian went to forage and came back late <3 #so i'll release that at some point #(bribes are allowed)#:3 #scarian

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wildandsmile · 1 month ago

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hi i would love to ask for a fanfic about akito yamada from "my love story with yamada kun" unfortunately the fandom is small so there's not enough smut abt him 😭 i really have a thing for drunk fanfics where the character takes care of the reader and then they do the boombayah 💀 i would love to see more writers write about my man 😞 about his personality i'd say he's a very calm and introverted guy and doesnt show much emotions (lets say hes a pretty stoic guy). Thank u sm 💜

Drunken love

Wc:1.2k

Tw: Grammar mistakes (English is hard man)

An: It’s been a while since I saw the show so I hope I got his character right

Drunk Reader

Yamada is incredibly caring when you’re drunk. He’s the type to hold your hair back while you’re throwing up, make sure you have water and some painkillers ready, and take care of everything else you might need.

He’d even cancel his stream for the day just to stay by your side. Sure, he might lose some money, and his guild members might be frustrated, but none of that matters to him—you always come first.

Yamada is usually quiet by nature, but when you’re drunk, he becomes even more soft-spoken, making sure not to make a sound that could worsen your headache. He’ll stay close, cuddling you and gently playing with your hair until you drift off to sleep. Honestly, it’s impossible not to fall for him in those moments.

When he’s taking care of you, it’s hard to keep your thoughts from wandering. His soft whispers and tender touch are enough to make you melt. And the way he gets so overprotective when you’re not in control—always keeping a hand on you, staying within arm’s reach—it’s overwhelming in the best way. At some point, you just can’t take it anymore.

You call out, your hands fumbling aimlessly, grasping at nothing like a lost child. The room feels disorienting, but soon enough, you see Yamada rounding the corner, a glass of water and a couple of painkillers in each hand. He sets them down gently beside you, then helps you sit up, his touch firm yet comforting. Once you're upright, he helps you drink the water, steadying the glass so you don’t spill or drop it. When you finish, he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, his voice low and tender. "You're doing so well for me love," he murmurs, a smile playing at the corner of his lips before he helps you ease back down into the bed.Despite the fog of drunkenness, your mind can't help but drift back to him, to the way his touch lingers just a bit too long, the way his words make your heart race. The simplest actions—like drinking water or lying back down—suddenly feel charged, making you feel flushed and restless. You try to dismiss the heat rising in you, telling yourself it’s just the alcohol. So when Yamada returns, sleeves rolled up and carrying a tray of food and more water, you knew it wasn’t the alcohol but you ignored that and focused on the way his muscles flex beneath his shirt. It's not much, just a light build, but it's enough to make you ache for more. The sight of him, so effortlessly attentive, only heightens the tension building in you. You can’t ignore it anymore.“Yamada... Yamada... Yamada," you call softly, your voice faint, yet intentional. When he turns toward you, a faint smile tugging at his lips, you extend your arms toward him. He understands immediately and walks over, kneeling down until you're face to face. Seizing the moment, you wrap your arms around him, drawing him closer, and gently press your head into the curve of his neck.” he asks, trying to pull away just enough to see your face. But you don’t let him, instead leaning in closer to whisper softly in his ear, “Mmm, I need you.” He turns his head slightly, attempting to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks, but you’re relentless. You start trailing kisses along his neck, causing him to flinch and jump slightly at the sensation"Come on, we can't not when you like this," he says, trying to squirm away from your grasp. "But I want to," you add as you press your lips into his skin, but he doesn't utter a word until you rub your feet over his hardening cock causing him to hiss and dig his fingers into your ankle. "Fine, if that's what you wanted, I'll give it to you," he says, pulling his hair back with one hand, his eyes now filled with desire and his lips now ghosting across your thighs. "But don't be mad if I keep you up all night ok."

Drunk Yamada

Yamada becomes a bit more talkative and needy when he's drunk, which is quite different from his usual quiet self. He’s also more touchy, so don’t be surprised if he ends up crawling all over you.

Make sure you enjoy it while it lasts, because tomorrow, he’ll be back to his usual silent, reserved self. If he remembers everything from the night before, he’ll probably be even less talkative.

Of course, you take care of him the same way he takes care of you when you're drunk—keeping water and painkillers on hand, cooking nice meals, helping him change his clothes, and everything else.

But naturally, you take advantage of his drunken state to tease him. You might coax him into telling you he loves you or treat him like a child until he’s blushing and a mess. It’s a side of him you don’t usually see, but Yamada doesn’t mind, even if it’s a bit embarrassing.

"Come on, Yamada, just one more time, please?" you ask, pouting cutely.""No, I don’t want to," he replies, his face flushed from both embarrassment and the sake he drank earlier. "You're just going to make fun of me again."I swear I won’t," you reassure him, placing a hand gently on his thigh. But he still resists. Sighing, you pull out your secret weapon. "Fine, I guess I’ll just have to leave you here then." You stand up, preparing to walk away. To your surprise, he grabs your leg and pulls you back. "Fine, I'll say it," he mutters, his eyes wide like a child. You sit back down quickly, pulling out your phone to record this moment. You knew you might not get another chance to capture him like this."I-I love you," he stammers, his voice still a bit slurred from the alcohol. Once he finishes, you turn off your phone, give him a quick kiss on the head, and ruffle his hair affectionately. "See you did such a good job," you say before getting up to go fix him something nice to eat but once again he stops you this time he gives you a lustful look "If did such a good job does that mean I get a reward," he says his hand now dragging up you thigh slowly "Come on Yamada your to out of it for that" you say before going back down to look him eye to eye but he jumps on you before you can speak again catching your lips in a deep kiss your tongues battling for dominance not stopping until you're both out of breath. You watch as the ribbon of saliva that was joining your lips broke, making you quiver with need. In the middle of your heated kiss, he managed to pin you down to the ground, your hands now bound above your head. You look at him, waiting for his next move, but when he doesn't do anything, you take this as your chance to tease him a little more. "Well, you got me down here, so why don't you come and take your reward?" you murmur, your lips ghosting over his. He gives you a short peck before nudging his head into the crock of your neck. "With pleasure," he says with a cute stutter, his lips now ghosting close to your ear, utilizing this opportunity to wrap your calf around his waist. "Well, I'm ready when you are, love."

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