#e l l a || visage | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nonnieapple · 2 months ago

Note

Afk journey, Sinbad, trans male/gender neutral reader, nsfw fanfiction. (I love this man very much)🤍

⛈️☂️Hook, Line, and Sinker☂️⛈️

• (Sinbad x trans!male!Reader)

• r a t i n g: e x p l i c i t • 4 1 4 0 w o r d s

• p o s t e d: 01.11.2024🌧️ navigation

n o t e: sinbad is so hot, i wish men were real :( s u m m a r y: sinbad walks in at the worst possible time, and the following events complicate your relationship further.

It was nearing night, and the hamsters were fast asleep as well as most guests of the inn.

When Sinbad walked into your room, you were staring out of the window with a wistful look, like the look his mothers had when they gazed out at the sea, remembering their husbands, lost forever to the fog and unrelenting waves. He wondered who you longed after, if anyone. Maybe you longed for home. Or for something he couldn't possibly imagine.

Before he closed the door, you broke the silence.

"You dare disturb my rest?"

Even turned away, you heard him. Your voice sent tingles up his leg. The room veered towards cold, the windows open, making the curtains flutter like sails.

"You're really living it up in here," Sinbad remarked, inviting himself to sit down on the fancy armchair flanked by another and a couch in the west of your room.

He hadn't ever been in it yet, and he was sure you wouldn't mind if he just sprawled out a little, he stretched, his boots hitting the leg of the short table. Lit candles sitting upon golden thrones flickered on it. Two glasses and a bottle were there as well.

"As I should, I was to have a vacation, and I'm still getting it, Cedartown or not." You made your way to the couch, your visage somewhat blurry from all the glamour swallowing up your form, the air around you swaying.

If he looked at you too long, he could see something was terribly wrong. It was not something anyone could notice at first, or at second sight, only those looking for it might begin to pull at the thread. He stopped examining you. He wasn't sure what he'd find.

You were like the fog that had almost killed him- leading him in mental circles until he went mad trying to get himself out of it.

Sinbad's leg jerked when you approached. You stood, close, your robe made of small, black, and knitted net. It should've revealed everything you wore under it- instead, everything around your chest and hips darkened and blurred.

The magic that wafted off you made his head spin. Or maybe it was that he drank too much. Sinbad sighed shakily as you ghosted your touch over his face, your eyes sharp and inhuman. The next second, they turned warm.

"Did you drink that swill again? Here, drink something good for once."

He barely caught the bottle you threw into his arms, and he thought, somewhat incredulously, You're too kind.

But, really, Magister- I don't know what to think of you. One second you wanna kill me and the next you're my savior.

I'll never know who you are, will I?

His eyes skimmed over the label. Dark liquid sloshed within darker green walls. "Woah! Fancy stuff. It's actually red."

The wine he was used to at most establishments was pale, watered down to save costs. You shrugged. You must've been used to good wine, good food, good people. He envied you.

"It's from an... old friend."

The way you said that with so much hesitance made his heart drop.

"They must be rich."

Sinbad popped open the bottle and poured himself some. He might as well indulge, and your room was a good place to do that. Upon second thought it might be questionable.

He had to hold back on drinking. He couldn't afford to do something stupid.

"Beyond that, and a massive drunkard I could never deny, but as I don't drink I have no use for his gifts." You took up the whole couch, propping up your head with a hand, the other playing idly with the belt of your delicate robe.

If he was to be mean, he'd liken you to a fish caught in a net, but he couldn't lie, you were more of a siren.

You hummed.

"I guess I could have a glass."

You poured yourself nearly half the bottle, and swallowed a third of the glass, drinking like a fish. He struggled not to gawk at you.

"Old friend... bet you have plenty of those. Not like it bothers me," he tacked on at the end, scratching at his scalp lightly.

The fireplace crackled and sputtered red. Strange, it gave off no warmth. Was it magic? Sheesh, what about you wasn't magic?

The rug beneath his boots was sure real, and a real good rug, too. If he were to get piss drunk he'd choose the rug over the street to pass out on. Oh, there were even pillows on the floor. Perfect.

"I mean it. We were friends, he isn't an old flame- as far as I know."

As far as you knew?

"You sure about that?" He raised a brow.

"Quite. Though one actual old flame, I wonder how she's doing. It's been a while, I last saw her in Holistone, it has been months since then. Damn Hogan for sending me on this "vacation", now I'm stuck in the middle of the sea with no idea when I'll see him or Valen. He should've gone with me."

Pushing aside his slight offense at the Rustport slander, you had mentioned General Hogan and Valen a few times. One was a Magistrate and, guess what, General of Holistone, the other some swashbuckling knight who, as he understood it, was hitting on you.

"Well, I'm glad he didn't."

"Hm? Why is that?" You smirked, your eyes glimmering like the wine you swished in your hand.

If Sinbad was pale, you would've seen his face lose color in an instant.

"I mean- I meant- he would've drowned in his armor, is all! It would've been worse than what happened to Chippy."

He drank quickly so he couldn't see your gloating expression.

"You're holding your glass like you're throttling a neck."

Even if he drank and drank, he still heard your voice, and if he plugged his ears, you'd get into his mind, too.

He couldn't tell if that was a way to hint at his discomfort or point out his terrible manners.

"I'm not much of a wine drinker."

You, on the other hand, held your glass between your thumb and forefinger ever so lightly. That fucking hand was calling him poor just at a glance.

"This better?" He emulated the way you did it, though it was nowhere near as graceful.

"Much better. The wine compliments your shirt."

The red, satin shirt, an illusion you cast, felt good nonetheless, and the wine was divine. It was bright, just sweet enough, and with a hint of berries and zest. It tasted more like the few fruits he had tried than the usual- as you put it- "swill" he drank.

It settled warmly in his chest, with the occasional sour tingle in his cheeks.

Sinbad didn't want to leave your room. It was fancy, and more importantly, it had wine AND you.

"How've you been?" You said between sips, your expression softening.

"Good. I've been spending a lot of time poking around the ship, avoiding going to Brineville so I don't have to explain myself. Things are better than before I met ya, anyway, I can finally do what I want, and... everything's so calm."

It was strange to not have to think about every little expense anymore for the village now that no one threatened its safety, and he was essentially a "hero". Sure, he still had to make money somehow and Rustport was as rusty as ever, but so much had been lifted off his shoulders.

By you, no less.

He'd said he'd repay you. That nagged at his mind sometimes. What could you possibly want?

It was nothing to worry about. It wouldn't be worse than what he had gone through.

"Planning on leaving soon?"

If he wasn't mistaken, he saw you frown ever so slightly.

"Not yet. I've got a lot to do here before I leave. What about you?"

You threw back your head and let your hair spill over the edge of the couch.

"You know, been here and there, helping people as I do, went fishing with my familiars. I like helping people and spending time with them but I do need alone time."

That was why the hamsters were in another room. Sinbad had to admit, they were cute and had grown on him. You truly were the most precious thing he had ever found washed up on the beach. He'd be no one without you.

"Are you leaving soon?"

You shook your head. "I want to stay a bit longer, until you leave, I suppose. I won't have much to do then. I'm dealing with people's problems rather quickly."

Of course, you weren't staying only for him. You were busy.

"I'm glad you're staying a bit longer." He couldn't imagine being without you now. You were the closest friend he'd had. Everyone wanted something from him, and you had asked for the least, always generous, if quirky.

You smiled, returning his giddy expression, which he hadn't noticed himself pull.

He felt his face get warmer. Must've been all the wine.

He and you listened to the crackling of the fire, finishing your glasses. You lounged like a cat. You were the image of peace when you closed your eyes. He rolled up his sleeves, feeling somewhat hot all of a sudden. He waited for you to kick him out, it'd happen sooner or later.

You watched from under your lashes.

"I was surprised that you had tattoos, though they are common here," you said.

He had helm tattoos on each forearm. "Funny story, I got them when I was drunk, like, extremely. I don't remember where or how exactly I got them." At least they healed fine and he had not felt much pain. He hadn't felt much at all.

"They suit you well." Your eyes lingered for a while.

"I have more that you haven't seen." He smirked, putting on that smooth-talking persona again.

"Although tempting, you won't smooth-talk me, Sinbad," you said sternly.

He sighed. A guy had to try. You were so damn hard to scam and trick, it was annoying. You were one of the only people immune to his charms. You were looking at him like he was a helpless animal. Again.

Instead of words of pity, he was hit with:

"You look upset. Mope in another room, I'm exhausted," you said, yawning and turning away from him unceremoniously.

He left with a huff.

"Good night to you too, Magister Merlin."

...

"Good night."

He should've been asleep.

Sinbad crept across the hall towards your newly luxurious room, careful not to make a sound, like he was escaping from a dungeon (like he had many times).

Sinbad cracked open your door. Strange, he left it unlocked, he thought. The room was dark and silent except for the sounds of the breeze coming in through the windows, like breaths.

You seemed to be asleep, as far as he could tell. He was sure he had heard something from your room. Maybe it had been the wind.

"Magister?" he said into the black, closing the door behind himself. It was not entirely dark, he noticed as he moved towards your canopy bed, as there was a lone candle burning close to the window.

The fireplace had no remains of smoldering wood.

The windows- they were closed shut. The sound was not from there. Had it been the draft instead? If this was how noisy the good rooms were, he'd go complain to Bols later.

Sinbad pushed past the closed curtains of the canopy bed, the fabric heavy and lush, a velvet he hadn't even dreamed of touching before, with much trepidation, his heart tense, ready for a beast to lunge at him any moment.

He didn't see what happened, it happened swiftly, the shape in the bed shifting loudly. The sound of the breeze halted.

"Ah, Sinbad. I was just thinking of you," you said, and it was undeniably you, your voice quiet yet clear, a little exasperated, your breathing so shallow he would've believed you if you said you had run around the whole of Rustport in a minute.

He would've believed you if you hadn't been in your bed all this time.

"Why aren't you asleep?" he stammered with wide eyes, gaze lost as he adjusted, making out your fuzzy shape. It was leaner than usual. He sensed none of your usual glamours on you.

"I could ask the same of you."

He leaned his knee on the bed, and you moved away.

"Some noise woke me up, and I thought it came from your room. Was I right?" He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, seeing that you lay rigid and didn't want him to come near you. To him, it seemed that something had happened, and you were uncooperative as to what.

One of his jobs was to get information. Clearly, he wasn't much good at it with you around.

"Did something happen, Magister? You're worrying me." His brows lowered over his honey-brown eyes.

"You didn't knock. You should leave my room." The light brightened against your face. Your skin was dewy and your hair was disheveled, the bedsheets in disarray. You were a mess.

The Merlin, a mess?

"I did know- and- you can't kick me out again!" He leaned over you as you leaned against cushiony pillows.

You pushed on his chest to get him away, your hand hot and humid.

"... Are you dense or what?" you snapped. "What do you think I'm doing in a dark room, alone, in my bed, gasping for air?"

His face transitioned from bewilderment to horror.

Oooh.

Embarrassment hit him like a wave. Holy Tritonus, he had heard you moaning. In this case, he was dense beyond belief. And the reason you were recoiling wasn't because something was wrong, it was, because, well. He chose the worst possible time to intrude.

And the reason your frame seemed leaner now was because you had no glamours concealing your body indeed, and no clothes besides that robe. He could see your bare skin between the fabric you held together with a tense hand.

He had trouble not looking. And it wasn't the wine, that had long left his system.

"Shit, I... I didn't..."

He had no excuse, and so close to you, caging you in, neither of you could escape, captured in the world's most awkward stalemate. The words drowned in the depths of his mind.

"You said you were thinking about me earlier. Do you mean...?" he trailed off, his voice mumbling and strained. Everything felt like a dream. He'd pinch himself if he wasn't frozen.

"I left the door open for you. I didn't expect you to come."

Sinbad's breathing had accelerated. He had already had thoughts about you. He couldn't possibly resist anything you asked him to do. That hint of servitude remained in him, and he was all eager to please.

"I'm here." He tried to smile, but it came out rather strained.

You pulled him in by tangling your hands in his freshly dried hair. Your lips were one push away.

He had already gotten ready for bed- his skin infused with whatever fancy soaps he managed to snatch this time. It mixed with that woody scent of a faraway home that clung to you no matter how many times you got drenched with rain or seawater.

"So?"

He felt your every breath. Berries.

"So..."

You kissed him first.

You were far from a reserved, shy mage. You nipped at his lip and broke the kiss just to piss him off.

He cursed like the sailor he was. Next thing he knew, his boots were lost in the dark along with his scarf (it felt like sacrilege to wear it during this), his shirt untucked and partially unbuttoned by your nimble fingers. You traced over the anchor tattoo between his collarbone and shoulder.

That wasn't how he expected you to find it.

Your hips were fuller than they appeared, filling him with thoughts he couldn't possibly speak, and your waist was small, perfect for holding when he-

Your chest wasn't quite... flat. That made him stop. His silent question hung in the air.

"I'm trans," you said, amused at how he was surprised by you again and again. You had hidden your chest to a point where he couldn't have guessed.

He had never been with someone like you (in any sense), but he didn't mind.

Your chest was soft, each breast perfectly fitting into his hand. At each caress and pull you reacted accordingly. It was his turn to be amused, and he was enjoying it immensely.

Your face and voice did not falter, the only thing betraying your feelings being your shallow breathing. Would your breaking point be easy to reach, or would he reach his first?

Goosebumps raised on your thighs when he felt them up with his calloused fingers. Only the richest of the rich could have pristine hands in Rustport. Sinbad spread your legs with little resistance from you, his hand wrapping around most of your thighs' circumference.

His hand dipped between your legs. You were wet, the wetness covering parts of your inner thighs. The hotness ignited a fever in him, a fever he hadn't felt in a long time, and never so strongly. Most of his prior fucks were hookups, and sometimes, to get out of uncomfortable situations in his jobs. They didn't happen often and he hardly looked forward to them. With you, he could hardly stop his hands and other body parts of his from thrusting right into you. You were by far the hottest guy he'd been with.

At the rough touch on your clit you jolted with a soft sigh, your legs closing on instinct, but they were stopped by Sinbad being in the way.

The thought crossed his mind that you were surrounded by others from all sides, and at any second, anyone could walk in. He didn't mind- he liked a bit of danger.

"How are you feeling?" he whispered close to your ear, hand exploring all the places that could feel best for you. He would make sure you'd remember this as a positive memory, and even if you left and never saw him again, the scene would stick in your mind.

"I've been better," you said with a shortness of breath, but impressively coherently.

"Don't you think this is a bad time for jokes?" Would you still talk like that if he filled you up? Would your face still be so serene?

"It's a perfect time for-" he interrupted you as he slid his finger over your clit over and over again, making your legs tremble and your brows lower. He might've not been experienced, but he was a quick learner.

After he got you to a point where you were panting and your pulse hammered relentlessly, he lowered his finger to your entrance, teasing it. You covered your mouth. A thin string, like fishing line, followed his hand as he withdrew.

Sinbad began with one finger, your tight walls even hotter than your wetness. Fuck. It felt amazing on his fingers. It might've made him cum instantly if he tried fucking you like that.

"Relax your muscles, there's no need to be tense," he said soothingly.

You visibly stopped straining and let him push his finger in fully. It circled your smooth cervix. You were pretty shallow inside.

He was clueless at that point, unsure of what to do for you.

"Curl your finger towards yourself."

Now you were the one close to his ear, leaning on his shoulders so he could have better access and less lewd sounds would be heard.

When he curled it as you said, he felt a spongy tissue that gave way under his prodding. You bit into his shoulder with little regard for how much that shit hurt. It would leave a mark, or even better, a scar. Yay. One more to the arsenal. He would have a hard time explaining that one, as it was in a visible place between his neck and shoulder muscles.

He groaned at the pain, pulling you halfway onto him. One hand of his rubbed your clit, and the other, inside you. You must've been leaving a hickey judging by the slight tingle on his neck. It made him harder than he already was.

Feeling every little groove inside and outside you couldn't be replicated by just ramming his dick in, and he thanked you that you had made the choice, since he was unwise- in general.

"What would your love-struck Knight think, Magister?" He pressed his lips into your shoulder. Slim, but surprisingly muscled from carrying every situation you got into on your shoulders.

You'd look good on top of him. With other people, his mind veered into nonsense and mundane thoughts of what he'd have for breakfast. Right now all he could think about was you, you in every way, in every angle, his. Everyone was right- he was greedy. Just not about money.

"Getting fingered by someone you met, what, a month ago? If even that?" Sinbad smirked, making sure you saw his expression. You bit your lip and gazed at him like you were oh so woeful. Would you tell the Knight what you'd done tonight? He didn't care if you did or not, but if you did, Sinbad would've loved like to see his face.

"He'd be jealous, I bet," you stuttered out with each thrust and curl of his finger, and when he added a second, you were reduced to adorable huffs and sighs, far from the virtuous Magister Merlin out in Rustport streets, a man of class and poise. A man who was now gasping for air with Sinbad's fingers deep in his cunt.

He kissed from the swell of your chest, up to your collarbones and neck. You were not a man, not a human, you were a dream, a fog a foolish sailor like him would lose himself in.

Screw him trying to make you never forget him. He'd never forget you, as he fell for you hook, line, and sinker, a fish falling for bait. He would never find someone like you. Someone who so easily saw through his tricks and had him willingly serve.

He could do it every night, sneaking in, fucking you whichever way you wanted him to, and acting like nothing was afoot.

You got him.

He kept gently fingering you as you gasped in an orgasm, one quite notable, your body going soft against his, your skin sticky and heart pounding.

What he had done felt automatic, like his body wasn't entirely his, his rhythm mechanical in nature, following your every whim and whine. He had just gotten you off, willingly, giddily, even, and enjoyed it.

That had been a first for him.

The first thing you said to him once you regained your breath and composure was: "Go wash your hands."

What a sweet way to snap him out of it.

It was fortunate that you had a bathroom attached to your bedroom. He didn't feel keen on doing a walk of shame through the halls.

The mirror revealed to him how hard you'd bitten him, leaving not only a hefty tooth mark, but even a hickey, too high for his scarf to hide. He cursed you inside his mind. All things considered, it was expected to have him do whatever he wanted to you, not the other way around. If you told him to jump into the sea right this second he probably would've done it. A flush was blooming across his face, not too obvious, but there.

You were next in the bathroom, and when you returned, Sinbad was on your bed, grinning. He did not budge a muscle.

"You're not kicking me out again, Magister. This handsome face needs its beauty sleep."

"I'll allow it," you said, tucking yourself in on the other side. Sinbad lay curled to take up as little space as possible. It wasn't exactly comfortable. You neared him, tugging his arms around your back, and you entwined under the thick blanket.

Hook, line, and sinker.

He didn't want the morning to arrive and so cruelly take you away. He'd savor every moment he had with you. For once in his life, he did not feel bound to you by duty, but by the call of his heart, similar to how he felt about the sea. Like the sea, you'd pull him in, and keep him wallowing in feelings so alien.

Did you know what you did to him? He didn't need you to. He just needed you close.

"Good night," he said.

"Seriously this time?"

"Seriously, I promise."

The lone candle flickered out.

#w r i t i n g #☂️#a f k j o u r n e y #afk journey #afk journey x reader #afk sinbad #afk sinbad x reader

56 notes · View notes

tonkatsubowl · 1 year ago

Text

false love.

jing yuan x fem!reader nsfw themes (cursing and stuff i think. mentions of domestic abuse and self harm. mentions of suicide. no, jing yuan aint hurting u bb girl). read at your own risk. english isn’t my first language, so please don’t mind the grammatical errors. (っ◞‸◟ c)

⪩ arranged marriage. the reader and jing yuan have an arranged marriage and she is stuck, disliking every moment of it, until...

TERM DIRECTORY ◖y/n: your name ◖e/c: eye color ◖h/c: hair color ◖l/n: last name

part two. / part three. / part four. / part five. / part six. / part seven.

"worthless girl," you hear your father say as he smacked down the scrolls onto the floor, "the most you can do for this family is to not be fucking useless and accept this marriage. but since you aren't listening, we will still go through it anyway."

but that wasn't surprising. your family was known to do things to and for you without your consent. this marriage? this arranged marriage? you didn't know about it until you woke up this morning, and apparently this had been planned for months now. you didn't know who you were getting married to, but according to your siblings (that also loathed you as the rest), you were getting married to a military leader.

you were the eldest child of the l/n family, and every first born child was expected to at least be married in their early ages, but if the child fails to meet that traditional requirement, then they would be forced into an arranged marriage.

in truth, you didn't trust anyone. you didn't go out as often, you didn't know a lot of men. you didn't trust any men. you weren't fearful, but with how the world is, you just couldn't trust anyone. and now here you are, forcing to sign your life away to a man you've never met. a man you will hate.

you were a quiet child. despite being the oldest, your younger siblings were treated with respect, love and care...because they seemed to be more talented than you. however, because you were the oldest, you were easy to get rid of. then again, your family wanted to get rid of you from the beginning. it was to the point where your father had practically brainwashed your siblings to dislike you. ultimately for no reason, too. but you just went with it. you were used to this treatment. why haven't you died sooner? you should've been successful in your past attempts.

"dear," you hear your mother call out to your father, "general jing yuan is here."

"ah, brilliant. we can get rid of this useless little girl once and for all." your father replied as he stood up.

as your father left the scene to greet your unknown fiance, you stared yourself at the mirror. you wore a crimson cheongsam, and some decorative ornaments that covered your visage. you sat there, solemn and dull, unable to truly feel anything. you...didn't feel beautiful, even though the house servants of your home had pampered you up enough to look..."decent" and "pleasing" enough to the eye. you just didn't see the beauty in you. you always thought of yourself as useless. ugly. worthless. and now here you are, still looking the same as you were being sent off to spend the rest of your life with some man you never met.

"y/n." a house servant enters your room, bowing formally. "it's time."

slowly, you got up, silently making your way to follow the servant to where the private wedding would take place. you walked past your younger siblings who followed their gaze with you, ultimately disappointed in you, and ready to get rid of their older sibling from the rest of their lives. they will never see you again. and you will never see any of these filthy relatives ever again. that was the best part, at least.

entering the room, you were greeted with the sight of an unfamiliar man who has his back turned towards you. his silver, fluffy hair held up, the government official who officiates your marriage, and your cruel parents to witness your marriage.

you didn't even dare to look at the general. you didn't care. you just wanted to die as quickly as possible. a part of you had hoped that he was kind enough to kill you the same day the both of you wed...so you didn't have to live in this world anymore where you were always hurt. always distrusting others. always meant to be a failure.

the general stole a look at you, however, but he didn't say anything. he patiently listened to the officiate's words, and replied with an, "i do". and you did the same, but your voice was quiet. delicate. precious. like a flower that was stomped on repeatedly, barely able to survive. wedding vows and other wedding-related stuff later, you were finally sent off to be escorted by jing yuan, his lieutenant yanqing, off into his home to live in forever.

standing before you was the sanctum, and you came here by a fancy carriage. the city was in celebration due to the general's wedding. others were happy, and you were the only person who...just didn't seem excited.

"y/n," you hear the general speak to you in a loving voice. dangerous, you thought. it's a lie. it's a fake. he's just acting sweet because he's your husband. behind closed doors, he'll... "we're here."

extending a hand towards you, he caught you flinching. you had thought that the general would hit you, or harm you in some way...but opening your eyes, you see that he merely wanted to hold your hand to escort you out of the carriage. slowly, you nod, taking his hand. shaking. you were afraid, but you tried not to show it.

unbeknownst to you, both yanqing and jing yuan made eye contact with each other briefly after you had flinched.

jing yuan carefully escorted you out of the carriage, and slowly wrapped his arm around your shoulder as he gave a wave towards his people. yanqing was nearby, and another made her appearance.

"ah, fu xuan," jing yuan greeted, "has everything been complete?"

"yeah," fu xuan replied, "lunch has been set up, as well as everything else. i made sure to give you extra dessert this time since you kept complaining last time." a roll of the diviner's eyes, earning a heart-filled laugh from the general. "congratulations on your wedding anyway. and ma'am... miss y/n." a formal bow. "i am fu xuan. master diviner of the divination commission, at your service. please do not hesitate to call for me if you need any assistance."

"haha! thank you, fu xuan."

you were silent, still. you didn't even respond. your eyes remain downwards, staring into nothingness below you. fu xuan looked at yanqing, then to jing yuan, who had nodded slowly. fu xuan nodded, as though they were communicating with each other in silence. then, the master diviner left, leaving you and your husband to enter the sanctum.

upon entering, you were greeted with more of his assistants and servants, which you didn't even bother to care about. you just wanted to disappear. you just wanted to⸻

"y/n." you hear the general's voice. "i hope everything has been to your liking so far. there will be a lunch that has been prepared for us this afternoon to celebrate. would you like some warm tea before hand?"

you paused for a moment as he looked down towards you. you were unable to look at him, but you would want some tea...only due to the fact your hands were cold. you wanted to hold a cup of hot tea to warm them up. "...⸻⸻yes."

it mustered everything for you to respond. god, you felt so weak. you were so delicate. jing yuan smiled softly at you, slowly reaching towards your hands...before stopping.

"...may i hold your hand, y/n?"

you pause, looking at his own hands which were close to yours. you were scared. you were hesitant. but... you were getting cold due to your anxiety.

"..." you nodded slowly, as he took your hands in his.

god, they were warm. they were...soft. they were rough due to the fact he's been in many battles, and they were...large. surprisingly enough, you felt...so safe. jing yuan felt your hands relax in his, earning him a rewarding smile for himself. "let's prepare some tea together. do you happen to favor jasmine?"

your eyes sparkled for a bit. yes, jasmine was your favorite. you loved jasmine tea. it was one of the few comfort teas that you would drink to calm yourself. this time, you displayed a bit of expression as you nodded. "y...yes. jasmine tea is actually my favorite."

"aah, is that so?" jing yuan chuckled, "it is one of my favorite as well. i'll be sure to brew it properly so you can a strong flavor. our tea has been harvested from the best of the best, after all."

you looked down, a bit excited. but you were afraid that if you showed any sort of emotion...you would get hit. but you kept your gaze low to your feet, not wanting to look...

then, jing yuan escorted you to the patio outside, which you were greeted by the sight of the beauty of xianzhou luofu. you could see the sky...you could see the birds flying. for the first time, you felt so...free. but you were unsure.

your husband escorted you to your seat, then right after, he began to brew the tea before you. you watched carefully, seeing everything that he did...and giving you the opportunity to actually give the general a look. he...was beautiful. his silver hair, his golden eyes... he seemed so trusting. he was beautiful. too beautiful. and you were married to him.

god, he must be in love with someone else. he was cheating on you, you bet. he was just here to follow traditions, you bet. there must be another woman involved. you weren't the only one, you thought. there had to be⸻

"y/n?"

you snap back to reality as your eyes look up to meet jing yuan's. the look on his face...the look of sincerity. a gentle look. god, he was so beautiful. and his eyes looked so...soft. he tilted his head, his smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you with a bit of concern.

disgusting.

"are you alright?"

your eyes soften a bit, gaze returning to fixate on the jasmine tea that he had poured for you already.

"you haven't touched your tea, yet. is something the matter? do you believe i have poisoned it? i can drink it for you, if you'd like."

you shake your head. "n-no, it's alright. i just...spaced out."

it didn't matter if it was poisoned. it would be another way to go out.

you pick up the cup of tea, bringing it up to your lips, tasting the warmth of the jasmine-induced tea and...

ah.

your eyes bright up. your cheeks paint themselves with a soft, crimson color. it was...sublime. the taste of the tea was perfect. it was amongst the best...no, it was the best jasmine tea you've ever tasted. it was...perfect. it was amazing.

you could see jing yuan smiling as well, seeing that he was very observant to your behavior and to what you liked, disliked...and what made you fear the most.

"it's...it's really good," you murmur, "i enjoy it. a-alot. th...thank you."

jing yuan's smile widened. "of course. anything to make my wife happy, after all."

happy...happy?

what a strange man.

to fixate on one's happiness⸻yours, especially. was this an obligation, or just something he wanted to do willy-nilly? you were unsure, but for whatever the future holds for the both of you...you hoped that it would make you disappear soon.

but, truth to be told, the future that was promised for you was no danger, neither was it truly a tunnel of neverending darkness.

unbeknownst to you, you were free. and you were going to be happy.

and jing yuan will make sure of it.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan

395 notes · View notes

still-not-over-transformers · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, I love your writing. i see the request are open, what about nsfw alphabet with earthspark optimus?

NSFW ALPHABET

TFE Optimus Prime

A = Aftercare (how they behave after sex)

He’s very much concerned with how you feel and wants to make sure you’re comfortable. He will assist in cleaning you up and ensure the bedding is changed. He’ll ask you if you need anything and if you said yes do not doubt for one second that this mech would go to any lengths to please you.

B = Body part (what body part they admire about themselves and yours)

He’s a bit proud of his shoulders and chest, as he can hold you better and lay you across his chest as he admires your visage. As for you, he loves your eyes and adores staring deeply into them as you make love. Additionally, he loves your chest and loves running his glossa down it.

C = Cum (self-explanatory)

This mech is considerate as fuck when it comes to… well cum. Unless you ask otherwise, he will only cum inside of you. But if you say otherwise, he is more than happy to oblige, as he will clean it up regardless after you are both satiated.

D = Dirty secret (duh)

Sometimes he fantasizes of you dominating him. The thought of being tied up and completely at your mercy makes heat rush to his spike, albeit he is far too awkward to declare these thoughts to you.

E = Experience (Do they know what they’re doing?)

He is pretty much a boy scout. While he may not have much experience in the bedroom, he was a librarian and knows quite a bit about how the birds and the bees get on. He is also a big pleaser, and he will do his research to ensure you are not left wanting.

F = Favorite position (need I explain?)

Missionary or Cowgirl. He needs to be able to look into your eyes during sex, and he needs to know he is pleasing you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He takes intercourse as a very important and intimate affair. That being said, there are some moments where he may crack an awkward joke or two.

H = Hair (how well groomed do they like their partner?)

Honestly, he doesn’t care. If he loves you, he loves every single atom and molecule you’re made of.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Romance is huge for him. If he wants to engage in sex, he will shower you in romantic gestures: rose petals on the bed, candles, music, etc. This man will jump through all the hoops. He wants you to know how much he loves you before he beds you.

J = Jack off (masturbation)

Only once in a blue moon. This mech is very patient and honestly feeds off of your own sexual energy. It’s very rare for him to indulge in jacking off as he feels it is too shallow, as he only feels true satisfaction when he’s with you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Submission. He enjoys whenever you decide to take control and boss him around in the bedroom. Sometimes bondage can turn him on, as long as he gets to watch you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In either of your private chambers. He refuses to even attempt public or risky sex.

M = Motivation (what turns them on)

After an exciting ordeal or battle, he becomes more hot-blooded and yearns to be closer to you in all ways. Additionally, a romantic setting (sunset, dinner, etc) also gets him in the mood.

N = No (turn offs)

He could never engage in any act that would cause physical or mental harm to you. So BDSM (for you) is a big nope. Also degradation is a big NOPE.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving)

He’s a big pleaser, and he loves to watch you writhe in pleasure as he goes down on you.

P = Pace (thrusting pace)

He’s very controlled in his pacing, preferring to start gentle and slow before thrusting deeply as you both climax.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies)

Quickies feel like cheating to him. He prefers to intimately and fully pleasure you as you deserve.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

If you suggest something, he will of course hear you out. If your request isn’t too extreme, he is open to trying new things.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for?)

He has decent stamina. He can go for a couple rounds, and slightly longer if you ask him to. He will do his best to ensure you are satisfied.

T = Toys (do they own toys?)

Again, he himself is pretty simple. But he will experiment with toys if that be your wish.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sometimes he will tease you by requesting praise before allowing you release. Normally though, he wants nothing more than to please you, so teasing is rather rare.

V = Volume (how loud they are during sex)

If he is in private chambers, he isn’t afraid of expressing his adoration of you in the heat of the moment. Breathy moans and grunts are commonplace, as is him moaning your praises as he climaxes.

W = Wild card

He sometimes thinks about fucking you at the G.H.O.S.T base, although his nerves would never allow him to.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Despite his boy scout demeanor, he’s packing a decently-sized array beneath his panels. A fairly long silver spike of good thickness, with blue biolights adorning its shaft.

Y = Yearning (sex drive)

Modest. Honestly this mech needs to be in the mood to want sex.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes him slightly longer than yourself. Mostly he needs to clean up and make sure you are comfortable before he can allow himself to rest.

#transformers #transformers oneshot #transformers x reader #earthspark #transformers earthspark #tf earthspark #optimus earthspark #optimus prime #optimus #transformers alphabet

124 notes · View notes

thisuserislilsilly · 2 months ago

Text

Summary: A very unexpected news sends Jubik down memory lane, doubting if he could be able to be up for the challenge

Genre: Fluff/ H E L L A S M U T IN ONE POINT

TW: Some fluff, lotta (kinda) rough smut at one point, wholesome for 40k standards

Pairing: Jubik x Ascilen (OG creator is @jaghatai-khock)

Goblin tag squad (lemme know if you wanna get tagged too): @finchly-tintinnabulation @cardinalcanis @jaghatai-khock @echo-of-damnation @meervalv0

"I'm pregnant"

It was a short message, not even a paragraph long. Jubik refreshed the database over and over in case there was some sort of mistake, if there was more of the message and it was just the bad signal or perhaps distance between the Merciful and Ember Nomads ships, but no, that was all and it was for him. From the Captain Ascilen personal channel, it had all the credentials and the authorizations. It was real, not a product of the imagination of the now agitated Jubik.

His twin hearts increased their beats per minute, he felt his chest aching, like a sinking or stinging feeling deep inside; that couldn't be happening, it was impossible, Ascilen and he had just a few instances of being together, truly together locked in a room in such a way; he had been gentle too, applying lube and protection as it was rightfully recommended by the astonished apothecaries that knew of his "situation" with Ascilen, there was no way this was a product of his reckless behavior or something he had missed.

Jubik mentally attempted to recall when it all would had started, they hadn't been able to get any intimate moments in a few months at the very least, 4 minimum, was he just starting to hallucinate? Did his love for Ascilen had reached that point in which he actually thought they could defy every conceivable biological modification of the Astartes and actually give birth to a new life?

Then he remembered something else, one little event that was more of a blur than anything else; the encounter at the Ytum IX docks. That had been just a brief encounter of a few hours, nothing too exciting to overanalyze, but there was a key detail that somehow reassured him that had been the moment.

Jubik had participated in one of the friendly sparring matches in the lower decks of the Nomads ship; it had been under the traditional rules: no clothes, infused with oils to avoid friction, duration until surrender. He had come out of there euphoric, all bruised up and bloody but livid, a few minutes later he had descended on Ytum and had encountered Ascilen...

He only had brief glimpses into his memory of the encounter: a small talk, little teasing and catching up, then the next thing he remembered was laying in the floor of some temporary quarters with Ascilen by his side absolutely exhausted, barely conscious and having trouble for even feeling his legs. That would had been the moment, the most likely event that had left Ascilen...pregnant. He had been completely out of control, apologizing many times afterwards by messages and vox logs for his shameful "savage" behavior, for the bruises, strangling that left marks in Ascilen neck, the...marks left on their most sensitive areas; the whole thing.

"By the Emperor..." He stuttered, walking over the command bridge "I...am going to be a father"

Suddenly all the chatters on the bridge died down, the eyes of serfs and Nomads alike looked back at the agitated visage of Jubik; it was the first time they had seen him that way, so disconnected from reality, so out of himself, scared. He looked everywhere, aimlessly and clumsily.

"Set course for Kianxe" He managed to spit out

"Sir, course can only be set by orders of the Chapter Master or the first Capt-" The Navigator looked downwards as they spoke, not wanting to anger the marine

"We are going now" Jubik voice became a grumble, he showed his sharp teeth as he replied

"What in the name of The Emperor is going on in here?" The first company Captain, a tall and old Nomad called Addos, raise from his chair

"Personal matters Addos, we are going there"

"I will authorize it friend..." Addos nodded solemnly "If you give me a reason"

"Does this seem enough for you?" Jubik handed the other his vox.

There was a moment of silence as Addos read the message, then he frowned looking up at Jubik to see if this was some kind of joke the old veteran was doing; the stare back gave him more than enough proof that he was serious.

"How? Who-"

"I intend to find out, as for the identity of the messenger-" He placed a hand on the arm of the Captain, squeezing it lightly "That does not concern you"

Addos backed away and turned to the Navigator, the Captain speaking in a formal tone giving the order for the ship to set course for the planet of the Merciful. Throughout the whole journey through the Immaterium, Jubik could not rest, couldn't meditate, even sing without thinking of Ascilen. He wondered, more than the fact his love was pregnant, if he would be a good father, up to the task; a Space Marine, a soldier of the Imperium such as him seemed the last person on the galaxy worthy of being a parent, he was bred for war and the heat of combat, his life was put at risk every moment outside of those four walls; sure he already had a reason to return, the scouts and Ascilen, but now it would be more sensitive, more fragile; fatherhood came with many responsibilities after all, many he had no clue how to work with; for starters how to teach a toddler about stuff without sounding like a general, how soft his voice had to be and when to be more unyielding in what was right or wrong.

He, too, thought back in his outburst. That explosion of lust and feral instincts that had overwhelmed him and had made it so Ascilen was now suffering the consequences of it. That had not being him, that was not the way to behave and the actions he had taught his scouts whenever they had intimate moments with their loved ones. He had been rough, demanding, possessive just like the Black Templar he despised, just as savage, hurting the Merciful in those same ways. Love had blinded him, love had changed him for the better and, in that particular instance, for the worst.

It was not as if he hadn't dreamed of it many times, of letting the passion inside of him burn and manifest itself when he was alone with Ascilen. To rip his clothes off and mark every bit of the Merciful, of filling them to the brim and then let them fill him as well; to claw at his back, to bite and nibble in his neck, to growl of excitement as he felt his body, his arousal manifesting; of relentlessly thumping their sides with his cock. Jubik shuddered at those impure thoughts, clenching his teeth to control himself, to suppress those feelings, to remain calm and collected like he had to be now, for Ascilen, for the life they had created, for his own sake if he wished to be a good father.

The travel through the Warp would take time and in those moments Jubik decided to spend them well; in doing so he went to the library of the Chapter, passed through the tomes of warfare towards the poetical collections, to those the serfs used and, too, to those "erotica" books as the human crew called them. He had to instruct himself, needed to learn everything there was to know about the subject; not just how to be a good partner in bed, how to have proper and safe sex, but too on the matters of pregnancy and parenthood. And set on this mission he spent hours and hours until his eyes gave up on him, surrendering to slumber in the middle of "The practical handbook for first time parents, by Jahn Lammer"

#fanfiction #custom warhammer chapter #warhammer fanfic #warhammer headcanon #ember nomads #warhammer 40000 #oc space marines #warhammer 40k #fanfic writing #wh40k oc

19 notes · View notes

system-architect · 9 months ago

Text

no one tagged me in it but i rlly wanted to do a character tag meme like ive seen ppl on my dash doing so,,, :"") here's the one that's been going around, for plex!

personally obsessed with the fact that his ingame visage is extremely babied boy and then when i draw him it reveals the fact like oh this is a very tired, awkwardly built, angular guy who's nearing 30. ok anyways, stuff below the cut!

-- B A S I C S

Name: Plex (fully titled: Infotechnist Plex)

Nicknames: (none. his handle on various console software is pl3x tho)

Age: 28

Birthday: 63 Scion 1308

Race: Asura

Gender: trans dude of some kind, he/him

Orientation: gay

Profession: he is an Inquest Technician very literally! minus the wiki bit mentioning magic since the stock npc is an ele lmao. ingame he's an engi, but as a character he has no combat skills whatsoever other than basic required training on how to use a firearm (which he hopes to never have to use)

-- P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: white (technically very very platinum blonde, natural)

Eyes: they're technically black with permanent yellow nightshine going on in his pupils. or irises. whatever the yellow dots are. don't worry about it.

Skin: albino (w/ light cream-tan stripe markings)

Tattoos/Scars: he's got a Y-shaped scar across his chest, and a couple of metal ports embedded on the right (viewer's left) side of his chest near his sternum, which have scarring around them

-- F A M I L Y

This section of the report has been obscured from view by the Inquest Legal Bureau at the behest of Redactor Trejj. Please contact your krewe's Overseer to initiate the proper clearance check measures if you believe this was in error. If you do not believe that it was in error, and instead that your ability to access this report whatsoever was unintended, please close the report at your earliest convenience and report to your facility's Inquisitor to be disciplined for reading this far.

-- S K I L L S

Abilities: Adept programmer with an eye for detail, and a photographic memory for numbers/strings of code specifically. Excels at combining complex pieces of information.

Hobbies: Gaming, movies/animations/shows, putting together model kits. Gets in a lot of arguments on programming and golemancy forums.

-- T R A I T S

Most positive generally helpful traits: Hard working (....usually), fast + thorough at things he puts his mind to, prefers to stay out of other people's business, good at keeping secrets, relatively open minded, has a pretty big capacity for empathy (even if he doesn't always show/use it)

Most negative generally unhelpful traits: Has a big mouth/isn't able to suppress his opinions about certain things, picky/fussy/whiny, socially awkward, tends to make interactions tense quickly, deep insecurity that bleeds over into how he acts around others, wants to 'win' things constantly, easily gets an inflated ego from said 'wins' that leads him to bite off more than he can chew after that

-- L I K E S

Colors: black LOL. also yellow (matches him!)

Smells: fresh coffee, cool rain on concrete, lemon, pine, canned air

Textures: leather and suede, soft fabrics (but not 'plush')

Drinks: coffee of course... also novelty flavor energy drinks even though they make his stomach feel like it's caving in on itself every time

-- O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: lord no he'd start coughing on it

Drinks: his alcohol tolerance is about -2 so this is also a no. the man's veins and stomach lining are made of like.. tissue paper

Drugs: what do u think

Been arrested: no.. aside from being in the inquest (Which Is In Itself Literally Not A Crime) he's a fairly law abiding mild-mannered citizen lmfao. i mean he probably torrents things under a vpn but that's very low on the list of concerns for the peacemakers,

#my stuff #plex

29 notes · View notes

liveyun · 2 years ago

Text

I N T E R L U D E : 2 0 0 9

pairing. yoongi x female reader / gn reader for this drabble

genre. fluff, baby angst

w. yearning. too soft for my soul 🥹

wc. 1.7k +

—taglist form.

this is a drabble from the haegeum universe. give it a read, maybe? ( but can definitely be read as a stand-alone! )

please refer to “ a/n ” in the ending.

His flushed cheeks are a testament to the wintry chill that surrounds him, adding a rosy hue to his already captivating visage. His nose scrunches up his nose at the slightly cool wind which brushes his already flushed cheeks. As the soft flakes of snow fall delicately upon his coat clad shoulders, he remains unfazed, displaying an air of quiet confidence and solitude.

Amidst the pristine white backdrop, his jet-black hair stands out, glistening as if it were coated in a thin layer of frost. Each strand appears silky and smooth, falling effortlessly around his pale, youthful face, framing his youthful features perfectly .

His once styled, not messy bangs are hastily parted to the side, giving a peek of his feline, warm brown eyes. They add a touch of mystery, drawing attention to his captivating eyes that peek out from beneath the soft curtain of hair. His eyes, when glimpsed through the gaps, reveal a glimmer of curiosity and a hint of his inner world, full of soft dreams and a longing feeling of love, and you're dumb enough to say that, too. His lashes rest on his soft cheek each time he blinks, and you fold.

His eyes are just so beautiful.

The contrast between his dark hair and the snowy scenery only enhances his striking appearance.

As an observer captivated by his presence, you feel an innate desire to reach out and brush off the snow that has accumulated on his shoulders and hair. Your fingertips itch with anticipation, longing to gently remove the delicate ice crystals that have settled on him. The act of doing so would not only demonstrate your caring nature but also allow you to connect with him on a deeper level, but you know you cannot. You would not.

Hidden behind the bangs, his eyes meet yours, and he gives you a smile. A smile which has his gums and teeth showing full on display, eyes crinkling close at how wide he's smiling at you. Cute, you think, and your cheeks heat up at the thought of finding your senior, cute.

Your senior, Min Yoongi.

But it is what it is, right? Stupid heart. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Whenever he approaches you, or smiles at you, or reads you out paragraphs.

Or maybe when he saves a tangerine or two for you. He hasn't still admitted it out loud that the tangerines you find on your desk often during the lunch break are actually from him, because a lot many times in the beginning, you've scanned over the classroom to see who's your secret tangerine Godfather, only to notice him silently staring at you through the corridor.

And you still giggle to visualise how fast he has turned away, abruptly, cheeks red like a tomato on being caught. Now, you didn't really need to actually look for confirmation whether it's from him, but you do enjoy the look on his face when you bring out one during times like these.

You find him devastatingly cute.

You know you're grinning like an absolute fool, heart palpitating like a damned drum being played.

Times like these, your heart decides to thump loudly against your will with heated cheeks and a fuzzy stomach where you feel—they call it butterflies, the funny feeling—occurs. It's as if a delicate dance of happiness is happening inside you, spreading joy with every movement, every word and every giggle passed in between you two.

He's two years older than you- you're fourteen, he's sixteen. But still, there's no icy formality as there used to be before when you met him. It's now all giggles and jokes.

Long story short, you met him at the basketball court, or rather bumped at him. But that's another story to continue, no?

“ Is that a story again you've written, Yoongi-ssi? ”

You playfully ask him as he takes a seat beside you, fumbling with his coat pocket to fish out a small, yellow paper, or rather, a sticky note.

You absolutely want to tease him for the flush that rises to his already pink cheeks at your teasing, because now you're bold enough to confront him with his short paragraphs that he writes to read out to you in the free times like these.

“ I— uh.. ”

“ I just did that randomly while trying to write a song.”

He looks so cute, so adorable, so homely with a small pout on his pink lips, his already pale skin shining softly. The chestnut overcoat fits him perfectly, hugging his slender body. Its warm color complements his features and stands out against the white snow.

The soft fabric of the coat drapes gently, giving him a polished appearance. He crosses the lapels of his coat over for warmth, and your cheeks burn with mortification when you realise your heart skipped a beat with the random thought that you had a strong urge to keep him warm with your arms.

“ A song? Did you finish it, senior? ”

His brows furrow slightly at the honorific you're addressing him with. You know his irritation because it's been long he has told you to let go of those and just be normal friends, but maybe you do like his pissed off face a bit more than you should.

A bit more than you should.

He clicks his tongue as a denial, shaking his head slightly, fidgeting with the small paper.

“ ..No, but ended up writing this. ”

“ Is it in English, senior ? ”

You absolutely love the way he sends a half hearted glare your way, but you know he doesn't mean any real burn behind it.

“ The melodies remind me of some certain emotions which..which I don't really acknowledge, at times. ”

Melodies. It wasn't really long since you've come to a realisation that melodies, mean his thoughts for him. Or, the music notes you often see him going through.

No matter if he's infront of the piano or not. You'd often catch him scribbling something on a paper with flushed, red cheeks, but on further inquiry ( and a little teasing, maybe) you'd get nothing but annoyed grunts, nothing too serious.

A new learner of English, he says, he is, apparently. But the small paragraphs he often reads you out with such fluency was already convincing you otherwise.

His voice when he speaks has a thick, Korean accent which is audible though each syllable, but you really think that it adds a dash of charisma to his overall voice when he speaks. His tone is light, fluent, and overall, pleasing to hear.

You weren't good at English yourself— but you didn't miss the times he would watch you with curious, sparkling eyes whenever you spoke in English. Or give a speech in some annual function at school, or achieved good marks in examinations.

But to you, you thought it was all just— practice and even a bit of instinct. You didn't even know what adverbs were. Well. Reading books of various genres helped you in crafting your vocabulary, and it's a good thing that you can use it now— but for him, you were a God. In English.

You bite your inner cheek to catch him blushing, again, as he fumbles with the small paper clutched in his hands.

Your hands itch to reach forward and hold his own, larger ones, which he often rubs together to warm them up. You give him a small smile with a nod, encouraging him to speak his side. He clears his throat, and after releasing a sigh, he begins.

“ Sometimes, the most elusive desires are the ones that torment us the most. We yearn for something we know is nearly impossible to attain, and the ache within our hearts grows with each passing moment. „

Yet, deep down, we grapple with the knowledge that we may not deserve it. The pain is twofold— a longing that both consumes and humbles us, reminding us of the delicate balance between our desires and our self-worth. ”

A moment of silence.

Suddenly, a realization sparkled in your eyes, like a shooting star illuminating the night sky. His paragraph was about longing something which you know is nearly impossible to attain. And it takes you almost a minute to realise that he just read it out to you. He was audibly quiet after finishing his little speech. His glance was down to the little paper opened in his outstretched fingers, hasty and cursive english scribbled on it.

You glanced back at his face. His eyelashes were covered with small droplets of snow, and you then realise that the fuzzy feeling, wild butterflies roared in the pit of your stomach. They reared high up to your chest, enveloping your tender beating heart in a soft hug as his gaze followed up to you, and you see the smallest of the smiles breaking on his lips.

But your breath hitches in your throat when you realise that maybe the yearning he just read out to you doesn't resonate the same way it does in your heart.

Your heart felt a gentle tug, pulling you to a different path, where your yearning took a different shape, with different colors and a unique rhythm. In that moment, you embraced the realization that sometimes, the yearning in our hearts doesn't always align with the yearning we find in others.

You shouldn't take Yoongi’s kindness to spend time with you for something which you don't know where will it lead to, because you know it's a path not so easy to tread on.

“ How was it, ____ ? ”

His voice breaks you out of your thoughts as you already find him looking at you.

You feel a genuine smile blooming at his feline eyes curiously peering at your own ones. He looks like a lost kitten, and you try the hardest to not coo at the big tuxedo cat infront of you.

“ Amazing as always, Yoongi-ssi! You used very high class words, though! I really love how you described it so well. ”

His small smile now widens to a whole, wide grin which has his gums popping out, nose scrunching in delight at your praise. His cheeks are dusted pink again, and you feel the roar at the pit of your stomach again.

You ignore the tug at your chest who deals with the crumpled threads of hope, again.

And that's okay, for in the tapestry of emotions, each thread has its own story to tell.

a/n : hello!

if you're a normal reader, thank you for reading so far. if it's possible, or if you want, let me know your thoughts 💜

if you're a haegeum reader, i just wanna let you guys know about the relationship between oc and yoongi more. i don't want to include the flashback parts more in the main story, though flashbacks like these may pop out of nowhere to let you guys know more ✨ however, the actual relationship of their past remains vague, or is upto the reader to decide.

also, i'm not putting haegeum on hold. because, i still maybe would write more drabbles / scenarios so regarding their past (so that readers get the connection between in the main story ) (no promises, but has more possibilities).

but the update for the main story— i dunno when. it's going to be long, and actually, it's quite a thing for me to write. there's a lot going on, so maybe the update should hopefully be done till late November (just an estimate. no promises. ) the ending I’ve visualised, i fear that it's not really the best or happy in any ways, and i have to work on it to make it presentable. but for now, maybe i’ll focus on writing my other fics with lighter genres. again, i’m not putting it on hold. it's still a wip, so don't worry 🤍 maybe or maybe not it can be released before, or even after.

feel free to ask for ask my muse / drop by some feedback / read my other works / or just chat !

#bts fluff #yoongi fluff #bts x you #yoongi x you #yoongi x oc #bts x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi imagine #yoongi scenarios #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fics #bts au #bts fanfic #bts angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut

106 notes · View notes