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fairlyang · 23 days ago

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Santa tell me ⚔️

w/c: 1.3K

pairing: wade wilson x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. wade in a santa suit, barely roleplay, wade is a freaky frog, dry humping , grinding against him, yapping your ear off, dirty talk, praise

taglist: @reader-1290

smutmas masterlist | main masterlist

wade was never one to reject roleplaying in bed, it was one of his favorite things to do. so of fucking course, once the holidays rolled in he knew he had to put on the big fat man's red suit.

there he was in all his glory with a santa suit and his deadpool suit just because he felt like it made sense to have both on.

you were sat on his lap, in a tight red dress matching his santa suit because he couldn't be the only one dressed up. "so what do you want for christmas, gorgeous, beautiful girl i have never seen before?"

you bit your lip, looking at him and trying not to laugh, "honestly a handful of things santa.."

"wow now we're getting greedy on good ole saint nick huh? alright, c'mon lay 'em on me, princess." he responds, his gloved hand snaking your waist and slowly going down to your ass.

"a new car would be nice… just so i don't have to hear my odyssey die on me every other day." you say while giving him a somewhat serious look only for him to break and scoff, "well who warned you about that piece of shit dumb excuse of a vehicle..."

"santa, i'm not sure i know what you're on about…" you joke, making him clear his throat.

“what i meant to say was… what else?” he says through gritted teeth.

“maybe one of those stuffed animals you can microwave, just for fun…” you respond with a smile making him chuckle.

“kind of sadistic but okay.. santa doesn’t judge.” he mumbles and you cover your mouth to stifle a laugh back.

“oh and one more thing…. i’d like for my boyfriend to stay home more often. it’s getting tiring to only be able to see him once a week at best and when he does come home, he’s always carrying a limb and staining our floors.” you say then slowly start going on a rant.

you took a deep breath for dramatic effect, then finally speak up after a few seconds, “so, santa tell me, can you give me these things?”

he was quiet, too quiet for your liking until he nodded and took off the fake beard, throwing it behind him. you reached over for his own mask wanting him to take that one off as well. he grabbed his santa hat, handing it to you then taking his mask off. you put the santa hat back on his head and you get off his lap, only to climb back on, straddling him, "can definitely do a few of those for you princess."

"yeah? about fucking time baby." you murmur and bring your hands to his shoulders to help you.

you make sure you're directly on his hard on, only barely swaying your hips back and forth, watching him let out a sigh as you feel his hands on your hips. "fuck.. just like that cupcake."

you press yourself harder against him, now grinding on him properly as he lays back into the couch, “promise i’ll try to be here more, just tryna get all the money you deserve to live lavishly, sweet pea.” he coos making you shiver and bite your lip.

his hands gripped your hips, guiding you while you brought one hand down to lift your dress over your ass. his hands immediately dropped down to grope you, not paying any attention to the santa themed thong you were wearing, “you should always be on santa’s lap with that ass, oh my fucking god.”

you shake your head and laugh making him grin up at you, “think you can do that for me?”

you nod and he lifts a hand up to smack your ass, “good girl, now don’t stop baby.”

his pants were soft and since you were already soaking through your panties it was easier to grind against him. unfortunately for him, he had two layers of pants so he wouldn't be able to feel it like he usually does. but he was too busy moaning to notice and yet again, yapping his heart out while you moved faster, "fuck this is even better than that one time i was groping you in the victoria's secret changing room, god those fucking bras will always do it for me. no fucking wonder you love those and goddd the thongs- this one's real festive baby, glad i'm not the only one playing along."

"baby that was two days ago.." you mutter and he shrugs, "still. i loved that day and you know how much i love playing with you in public."

"oh i know." you chuckle and lean closer to his face, your movements not at all stopping.

"remember when we fucked on the balcony of the hotel we stayed at?" he asked and you hummed, "which one?"

he groans and you feel him twitch beneath you making you clench, prompting you both to moan, "fuck!"

"w-which one baby?" you ask and he gulps, all of a sudden losing his train of thought as his hands went back to your hips.

the small fabric of the thong was drenched and it was getting harder to grind just because it was so slippery. you stopped for a singular second, quickly bringing a hand down to move it to the side then place yourself right on his leaking cock. you went back to the same pace and his moans filled your ears, "i didn't hear you respond, cupcake." you murmur inches away from his lips and he just twitches yet again.

"mexico, definitely mexico. or paris." he quickly responds and you nod, "both were good, great views."

"especially from my end." he mutters, making you whine.

"yeah you remember me fucking you from behind princess? making sure we looked at the view to get our money's worth." he coos and you nod, feeling the sensation of your orgasm building up.

"like thinking back to it baby? lord knows i do when I'm out working and jerking my cock at night thinking of you. im fucking always thinking of you." he rambles, hands roaming up and down your back while you lean you head against his.

"fuck baby- you really know what gets my gears going huh?" you joke and he eagerly nods.

you felt his cock twitching and his breathing was becoming heavier meanwhile your legs were almost giving up on you but you had to fight the pain in your thighs. you kiss his nose then move to the right until you got to his ear, "think we need to do that again soon." you whisper and he groans.

“oh my god stop- you’re gonna make me come and this is a rental!!” he whines, making you smirk.

"you sure? i'm so close and you are too….." you tease, pulling back and slowing down just for the sake of seeing his reaction.

“fucking shit baby- never mind. keep going cowgirl, don't fucking stop.” he moaned and you did.

you reached up and stole his santa hat before putting it on and then finally leaning in to kiss him. he kissed back immediately, greedy and sliding his tongue inside your mouth while you both quickly came at the same time, holding each other for comfort. you stopped and felt your legs shaking crazier than usual, while you were whining and whimpering into his mouth because the pleasure was just too good.

he held you tightly, his hands running up and down your back to help soothe you while you buried your face to his chest and hands rubbing his chest and shoulders. you were both trying to catch your breath when his hand stayed on your head, gently stroking it then began to whisper, "promise i'll be here more often."

"with all your limbs intact?" you whispered back making him chuckle and nod, "yeah we'll have to see about that one sweet pea…"

#wade wilson #deadpool #wade wilson x reader smut #deadpool smut #wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader smut #wade wilson smut #deadpool x reader

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j4gm · 1 year ago

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SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 1: FIONNA CAMPBELL

Here's a bunch of stuff I spotted. Feel free to add more.

During the anime girl hero dream Fionna mentions Hans Brinker, a character from a novel which introduced speed skating to the United States.

The BMO style alarm clock has BMO's voice.

The ducks that steal Marshall Lee's money look like one-headed versions of the two-headed duck from the original Adventure Time title sequence.

Cheers is a real sitcom. Simon previously sang its theme song in the episode Simon & Marcy, and now it seems to have manifested in the human AU due to his connection with it.

Fionna says "stop acting crazy" to Cake with the same meter as Marceline said "stop acting crazy" to Ice King in the episode I Remember You.

We all spotted this in the trailer but there's a Magic Man hat in this shot. Magic Man's hat was most recently seen being worn by Betty.

The Betty statue also suggests that Simon's psyche has significant influence over this world. The fountain includes frogs, a symbol of change that was previously also used in Temple of Mars. And Fionna mentions the statue underwent renovation twelve years ago, which is the same amount of time that's passed in the prime universe since Betty's amalgamation with GOLB.

It would seem Mrs. Abadeer runs a vacuum cleaner company as well as being Fionna's landlady. And Queenie runs an accounting business as well as the tour bus.

The stickers on Marshall Lee's guitar case are all references to real life punk rock bands. X-Ray Pex = X-Ray Spex, Daikini Kill = Bikini Kill, PM might be a reference to AM as in the Arctic Monkeys. I'm not sure what Las Crudas and Dark Eyes are references to. Perhaps someone more familiar with punk rock can let me know?

In case you were wondering, the credits confirm that this is human genderswapped Fern. It's a bit more obvious now that we can see all her green clothes and backpack, and given what she said about her dreams being super messed up. I'm not gonna go through the rest of the cameo characters in this episode because most of them are pretty obvious or already got figured out when the trailer dropped. That said, if anyone knows who the bus driver is meant to be please let me know.

The sword in the window of this games shop looks very similar to Fionna's sword from the original comic series.

The latte that Gumball - ahem I mean Gary - makes in this scene features PB's swan.

Okay one more cameo mention because I feel like it might become significant later. This is Ice Queen.

Fionna and Cake are dreaming about their apartment block in the credits of this episode, but it has a roof like the Tree Fort and the same little boat with a telescope and parasol.

Episode 2 to follow!

#adventure time #fionna and cake #easter egg posts

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shuadotcom · 11 months ago

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143 Miles (M)

💞Pairing: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

💞Summary: You and your boyfriend decide to change up your Valentine’s Day plans this year, so you plan a two-week getaway - or a “love vacation” as Seungcheol calls it. With each destination, you fall more and more in love with each other and it may just be your best Valentine’s Day yet.

💞Genres & AUs: Fluff, smut, established relationship au, road trip au

💞Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

💞Warnings: Profanity, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, pet names (baby, sweetheart, baby girl), big dick!Cheol

💞Words: 5k

💞Note: Here’s my fic for the Cupid For You Fic Exchange hosted by @svthub! Happy Valentine’s Day to my lovely valentine @gyuwoncheol !! 💘 I hope you enjoy my beloved Paula!!!!! 😘 ❤️

Thank you to my girlies @horanghater and @onlymingyus - Bambi for always coming in clutch as my beta and Mars for the beautiful banner!! 💕

“Okay, on the count of three,” Seungcheol declares once you’re both back in the car. “One…two…three!”

You reach into the bag in your lap and dramatically present the trinket to your boyfriend. He bursts into a fit of laughter upon seeing the small smiling frog donned in a cowboy hat resting in the palm of your hand. You quickly notice that he’s holding the same figurine. You join in with him, the two of you cackling in the front seat of the car together. You’re sure anyone walking would think the two of you look deranged, but neither pays that any mind.

“Well, guess this means we’re tied this round,” you manage when you finally collect yourselves.

“Yeah, but I’m still winning,” Seungcheol boasts, taking the frog from you and putting both away in the backseat.

“By one point!”

“A win is a win,” your boyfriend shrugs, grinning widely at you. You concede and start the car, somehow forgetting how competitive your boyfriend can be, even over something as silly as a game of who can buy the other the most ridiculous gas station souvenir. You’re on day three of your cross-country road trip and Seungcheol’s souvenir picks have been just a little sillier than yours. He’s simply lucky is all.

It was his idea to do something different this Valentine’s Day. You and Seungcheol have been together for almost five years and every year in February you’ve done the same thing when it comes to Valentine’s Day. You usually go out on a date somewhere, always a fancy romantic lunch or dinner, and then an activity such as a movie or a trip to the amusement park. Neither of you are ungrateful about the time you spend together, of course. You love one another and anything you do will be enjoyable if you’re together. Your dates are always full of nothing but shared love and admiration for each other. You love Valentine’s Day and celebrate it by spreading more love than usual to your boyfriend and he loves doing the same, but you both wanted to change it up this year, so when Seungcheol brought up going on a road trip, you wasted no time in agreeing.

Initially, you thought about driving from Seoul down to Mokpo, but that is only a 4-hour drive at most and didn’t feel like enough of a trip. That’s why Seungcheol brought up something that was once on his bucket list: fly to the US and then drive to the other side of it and back. He mentioned that it was something he’d always seen in American teen movies growing up and he always thought it looked fun and like a way to get even closer to the people you care about. And since you’re the person he’s closest to and cares about the most, he wouldn’t want to do this with anyone but you.

It didn’t take you much convincing either. You can never say no to a good road trip, so you both took time off work at the beginning of February, packed your suitcases, and booked a flight to New York. From there, you rented a car - a BMW to be exact, at your boyfriend’s insistence. (“It’s our love vacation! We have to drive in luxury!”) Then start your journey to Washington, planning to stop at as many states in between as you can.

You’ve finally made it into New Mexico with the end goal of getting to Las Vegas to stay for a night. Neither of you had many goals for where you would stay or what you’d do when you got to every state and are just winging it. It’s more fun that way.

Well, except when it comes to your souvenirs. You decide to stop at a gas station in each state for the wildest souvenir you can find after you unearth an Empire State Building-shaped mood ring right before you leave New York. It’s an extremely impractical shape and you demand that he put it on as soon as you leave.

Once you get back onto the highway Seungcheol fiddles with his phone, making sure his Bluetooth is connected.

The familiar first notes of “Sugar We’re Going Down” by Fall Out Boy start and your mouth quirks up into a smile. Every time it’s your turn to drive on the trip, Seungcheol insists on playing the playlist of your favorite songs that he made for you. The gesture still makes you feel warm at how thoughtful he always is, even when it comes to the little things.

Drumming your fingertips on the steering wheel, you relax in your seat. Seungcheol turns the volume up and rolls down his window just a bit. The February air is a little crisp, but not too cold. As soon as Patrick starts belting over the speakers, you join in, singing the song word-for-word as you go. Other than talking and playing silly road games, a favorite of both of yours has been using the car as your karaoke room.

Both of you have more than enough playlists to never run out of a soundtrack to your drive and you’re not shy about singing around one another. For the first few hours at the start of the drive, you had nearly gotten a sore throat from how serious you were at road trip karaoke. You were only missing a tambourine and the typical multi-colored karaoke laser lights.

The drive to Nevada will take nine hours, so you do half of that drive, and that whole time you and your boyfriend sing your hearts out on the way. Every once in a while, he reaches over to feed you a chocolate at your request for a snack. He makes sure that his finger grazes your lip or your teeth each time, chuckling when you nip at his digits or place tiny kisses on them. Little moments like this with Seungcheol make your heart even more full, which you didn’t think was possible, yet here you are - falling more and more in love with him each simple moment like this.

When Paramore comes on shuffle, Seungcheol goes all out during “Ain’t It Fun,” doing all of the ad-libs and being the guitar and the drums. At this point, you’ve made it more into town and hit a stoplight after passing nothing but dirt and rocks.

It gives you a chance to look at him, admiring the way his dark hair falls in his eyes - the eyes that turn into half moons when he smiles wide and laughs loudly. You can’t help but swoon over the giggle he lets out when he notices you watching him put on a solo concert, his dimple making its appearance and you want nothing more than to lean over and kiss it. And then kiss him on his lips that you know are so soft and warm and made perfectly to fit against yours like a puzzle piece.

So you do. You lean over the console quickly when he turns to you again and gives you a closed-mouth smile. Seungcheol lets out a noise of surprise, but gladly accepts the kiss, his hand reaching to cup your chin as your lips move slowly against his.

A honk from the car behind you makes you spring apart and then you remember where you are and see the green of the stoplight in front of you, indicating that you’ve got to focus on the road again. Seungcheol reaches over to take your hand as you start driving again, placing a kiss on the top of it, keeping it in his hold as you continue, both of you getting back to your playlist and the road ahead. You can’t help the way your heart swells and you almost don’t want this moment to end. You would travel around the world and back if it meant you could do it with Seungcheol.

When the sun sets on your journey, Seungcheol has always insisted that even if it’s not his turn, he’ll do the driving. He’s halfway through the state of Arizona when it gets darker and he’s behind the wheel. You didn’t stay in New Mexico long, only stopping to refuel and make sure to see what that gas station has to offer in the form of trinkets. Not much, as it turns out, but you manage to win this round of your game when you snag a keychain with an alien riding a donkey while all Seungcheol finds is a pen in the shape of a chili pepper with a mustache. He couldn’t not give you that point even if he tried to argue with you just a little about it.

Seungcheol hums along to his music, keeping it low enough not to disturb you while you try to sleep. He passes a mountain range, briefly admiring how the moonlight shines on the red rocks surrounding you. His attention quickly gets diverted to you when you turn in your seat to face him. You have the smallest pout on your lips and your eyebrows are scrunched up the tiniest bit. Cheol knows how hard it is for you to fall asleep in the car, but he still makes you try so you can get rest.

His eyes focus on the road, but he can’t help but steal glances at you and your cute expression. Not only does the moonlight bounce off of the nature around, but it also does the same to your face. It highlights your cheeks that he loves to pinch, your nose that he loves to boop, and your perfect lips that he loves to kiss. Your facial muscles relax when you seem to slip into a state of rest finally and the sight of your expression that he can only describe as angelic has his stomach doing flips.

It’s been almost five years and every single day that he gets to look at you, he counts just how lucky he is to call you his. From the moment he met you, you occupied space in Seungcheol’s mind, and to this day, over everything else in his life that swirls around in his brain, he always comes back to you. Your face, your voice, your body, your everything. You are everything to him and he’ll tell you every single day for the rest of your lives.

“I love you, so much,” He whispers as one of your favorite songs plays through the car and you stir, just a little.

Look at the stars, look how they shine for you. And everything you do.

A smile tugs at the corner of his as he glances your way again. The stars, the moon, the sun, all of it truly does shine for you and only you - his whole world.

When your phone’s calendar reads February 14th, you and Seungcheol finally make it to Las Vegas and you decide to treat yourselves to a fancier hotel. Instead of the usual 3-star hotels (and a few seedy motels) you stayed at along the trip, Seungcheol finds the nicest hotel that the two of you can afford. You even get so lucky as to somehow snag the honeymoon suite. “It is our love vacation after all,” being his reason yet again.

You definitely don’t complain when you walk into the room and kick your shoes off, immediately taken aback at just how fancy and spotless everything in the room looks. The bed is the biggest you think you’ve ever seen and is covered in rose petals. The large window across the room overlooks the city of Las Vegas, the neon lights brightening up the room before you even turn the lights on. The furniture looks modern and clean and the room even smells fresh yet sweet. You can’t place the scent of the air freshener, but you love it nonetheless.

“Holy shit, this is the nicest hotel room I’ve ever been in!” You marvel, running and plopping onto the large bed. The bed is big enough for you to starfish comfortably on and you start making comforter angels, Seungcheol laughing as he flops next to you.

“Only the best for my girl,” he hums, squeezing your socked feet, forcing a sigh out of you.

“Damn, I’m so sore.”

“Well if you’re interested, there’s a more comfortable place for your sore spots.”

You lift your head to look at Cheol and follow where his finger is pointing. There’s a half wall across the room made of decorative swirls of metal that you can see straight through. On the other side sits a large jacuzzi bathtub.

“Is that our tub?!” You spring up from the bed and rush over, eyes widening at the size.

Seungcheol comes up behind you while you’re admiring, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you close. “That definitely looks like our very own giant, two-people-sized tub.”

“Looks like it has jets too.” Your hands rest atop his, fingers threading together.

“I think I even see some bubble bath on the counter over there.” Lips meet the back of your neck, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation.

“Hmm, how about I get the bath going and you grab the bottle of champagne chilling in that bucket by the bed? Then we can order room service. I’d love some good sushi.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Seungcheol punctuates his sentence with a final light kiss on your neck. You have to quite literally peel yourself from him, but you manage it as the two of you split up.

It only takes a few minutes for him to grab the bottle along with the two glasses and for you to get the bath running. As soon as the water is warm and bubbly, you and Seungcheol shed your clothes on the floor as you each slip into the tub with you sitting between his legs. He manages to find the button that powers the tub, the jets hitting you at all sides, including your outstretched feet.

You relax into the water, tilting your head back, and resting on Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“I have some bad news for you, Cheol.”

“What is it?”

“I think I must pass away here, just like this.”

Your boyfriend breathes out a laugh behind you, wrapping you in his arms again.

“You’re telling me you’d just up and leave me like that? And to stay with a bathtub no less!” You can hear the pout in Cheol’s voice and it makes you giggle.

“It’s nothing personal, baby, but I mean you can’t produce jet streams of soothing water.”

“Hmmm. That may be true, but I can do this.”

Seungcheol’s fingers dance up the front of your body, gently cupping your breasts and squeezing. His fingers tweak your nipples in between gropes, making you let out a surprised moan.

You practically melt into Seungcheol’s chest as he plays with your sensitive buds and your eyes flutter closed.

Soft moans fall from your lips as your head lolls to the side, Seungcheol using the opportunity to latch his lips to the side of your neck. His teeth scrape over your skin, nipping and biting along the way.

Seungcheol has always loved to mark you. He loves leaving not only signs to others that you’re his, but every hickey and every bruise is a little reminder that he’s the one who makes you feel good and he’s the one that you always come home to at the end of the day. Not that you need a reminder because you’ll always come back to Seungcheol no matter what.

You count at least two reminders now, one on the side of your neck and another at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His fingers never leave your nipples, the stimulation already making you nothing but putty in his hands. If you weren’t in the tub you’re sure you’d be making a mess of whatever panties you would be wearing.

Your boyfriend trails kisses from your shoulder, up your neck, to your ear, and lands on your cheek, peppering your face with a few more kisses. His plush, slightly chapped lips kiss any spot he can reach as his hands trail down from your waist to your thighs. Seungcheol opens your legs wide and shifts you both around in the tub. The moment the jet across from your body hits your clit, you let out a shriek and Seungcheol knows he’s positioned you the way he wants to.

The tub jet feels like heaven coupled with Seungcheol’s relentless hands that are back on your tits, cupping and squeezing in the perfect way you need it.

“Ngh, Cheol!”

“Hmm? What is it, baby?”

“F-fuck. I need you.”

“You need me? But didn’t you say a little while ago that you wanted to stay with the tub since it has jets? Aren’t you enjoying the jets right now?” His tone is smug yet teasing, warm breath hitting your ear and making you shiver.

“Cheol, please!” you pout at him, doing your best to beg in between whines.

“Oh, so you do need me, huh?”

“Yes!”

“And what is it that you need, sweetheart?”

Seungcheol tugs at one of your nipples harshly, making you jolt. You feel so close to cumming already, but you do your best to hold off. You want to cum around Seungcheol’s cock or even his fingers - something, anything of his.

You voice this to your boyfriend, choking and stumbling over your words along the way. Seungcheol’s gaze is heavy as he peers down at you, enjoying how you squirm and wiggle in his hold. Your head is resting on his shoulder as you look up at him, batting your eyelashes and pouting extra hard. He loves it when he can see how needy you are for him and how much you want him. He especially loves all of the noises you make for him - the pants and the moans and the whispers of his name.

He needs to hear more from your pretty lips, and he knows exactly how to do that.

With a smirk, one of Seungcheol’s hands releases your tit and trails between your legs. The tip of a finger taps against your clit, an embarrassing moan tumbling out of you in response.

The thick digit slides into your eager pussy and it takes everything in you not to sob at the feeling. Seungcheol crooks his finger as he pistons his hand and the heel of his palm knocks against your clit each time. You practically dissolve into his hold while his other hand plays with your nipple, your brain already turning to mush at all of these sensations combined.

“Fuck, sweetheart, listen to you. You sound so fucking pretty.”

“C-Cheol…”

“God I love it when you say my name. I wanna hear it again,” Seungcheol slips another finger into you, and you yelp out his name again without even thinking about it. His pace quickens, fucking you with his fingers as quickly as the bubbly water around you will allow.

“Yes! Please don’t stop, Cheol, please!”

“Mm, I won’t, baby. Want you to cum for me. Come on, pretty girl, let go for me.” Seungcheol’s voice is so deep that you practically feel it in the pit of your stomach. The pads of his fingers digging into your sweet spot, the jet from the tub still pelting your clit each time his hand moves, and his hard cock digging into your lower back are enough to have your world tilting and your orgasm knocking into you as soon as he tells you to let go.

Your body stiffens as you cum, the shrill sound of his name that you let out sounds too loud in your ears, but Seungcheol eats it up. He curses under his breath, telling you another handful of times how pretty you sound and how beautiful you look falling apart for him.

Seungcheol caresses your cheek and chin as you come down and when your breathing seems to steady, he tilts your face back and kisses you. His lips meld with yours, kissing you as if he’ll never get the chance again, making you even dizzier.

His tongue prods at the seam of your lips and when you let him in, he swallows up all of the desperate little sounds you puff out. He pulls back from your lips suddenly so he can help you turn around in his lap. The water in the tub sloshes as you get comfortable facing him and straddling his waist.

Neither of you wants to waste any more time, the carnal desire to have Seungcheol inside of you is a mutual feeling.

The head of Seungcheol’s swollen cock prods at your sensitive folds, whimpers falling from your lips as you start to sink onto his length. His hands hold your hips as you lower until he’s completely sheathed between your wet walls. You and Seungcheol have had sex more times throughout your relationship than you think you can feasibly count, and each and every time the stretch is familiar but always succeeds in taking your breath away.

“Shit, Cheol…”

“Feel good, baby? My fat cock stretching you out?” Seungcheol grunts between clenched teeth.

“Yes, s-so good, Cheollie.”

“You’re still so fucking tight, baby.” He winces when he feels your walls twitch, squeezing his dick and momentarily making him speechless. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

With Seungcheol’s grip tight on your hips, he helps you lift a little, letting his cock slip nearly all the way out before you slam back down and he’s shoved inside of you to the hilt. You share a groan as he helps you ride him, finding a steady rhythm. The water around you continues to splash, but he only moves you in his lap faster.

Your head falls back as you alternate between bouncing on his cock and swiveling your hips, letting out curses and calls of his name. Seungcheol bucks his hips up to meet your movements, fucking up into you as much as he can in the slippery tub.

“Shit, you look so beautiful like this. You were made to take my cock, you know that, baby? This pussy was made for me.”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck!” His compliments only spur you on, your fingernails digging into the thick skin of his shoulders as you grind on him. Your thighs are starting to burn, but you ignore it. The feeling of your boyfriend’s girth driving up into you over and over makes you feel floaty, everything around you fading away. The only thing you feel and the only thing you know is Seungcheol and his hands on your moist skin, his lips sucking bruises onto your tits, and his dick kissing your g-spot with each harsh thrust.

Seungcheol knows your body better than anyone, so he knows when you’re going to cum. He notices the frantic cries, the way your body shakes, and that far-away look in your eyes.

“Gonna cum for me, beautiful?”

“Y-yes, fuck yes.”

“That’s right, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me. Can you do that?”

“Mmhmm! I’m so close, Cheollie!”

“I know, baby girl, I know,” Seungcheol moans against your chest, burying his head in between your tits as he drives his hips up so hard, you almost lose your balance. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I’m close too, fuck - gonna fill you up. Can you handle that, baby girl?”

“A-always! I can a-always handle y-you, baby,” you gasp out, your stomach tightening and your body buzzing the closer you get.

Seungcheol keeps one arm around you while the other snakes in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit without even having to try. The stimulation shocks you and has you mumbling gibberish, a mix of your boyfriend’s name and pleading words. Your fingers slide up and into his dark locks, threading your fingers through the brunette strands and tugging, making him growl into your skin.

“Please, fuck, Cheol I’m gonna cum!”

“I love you so much baby,” Seungcheol nearly explodes right on the spot with how your gummy walls clench around him again, but he manages to hold off. “Cum for me, sweetheart…” He nips at the side of your breast and applies more dizzying pressure to your clit.

“I l-love you too! I’m cum - fuck!” Your words are cut off with a scream as you tumble right over the edge, cumming harder than you did the first time, tears pricking the edge of your eyes.

Seungcheol lets go right after you, his face still in your chest as he holds you close, moaning out words of pleasure, love, and admiration about you and how you feel like “literal fucking heaven” and how you’re his and his only. Seungcheol pumps you full of him, his warm seed dripping from your throbbing pussy and mixing with the remaining bubbles around you. Somewhere in between his pussy-drunk babbles your ears pick up something about making you his wife.

You both stay where you are for a few minutes, your fingers lazily raking through his hair as he keeps you close to him, placing small, closed-mouth kisses on your hot skin.

“I love you so much,” he mumbles, letting out a sigh as his hand, still between your bodies, moves to rest on your thigh.

“I love you too, Cheol,” you sigh back, a drunken-post orgasm smile on your lips. Even through your haze, you didn’t forget what he said. “Did you…did you mean what you said?” you whisper out, hoping he knows what you’re referring to.

“Which part?” His question sounds calm, but you notice the way his fingers on your thigh press into your skin a little harder.

“The part about making me your wife?” A fraction of a second of silence hangs between you both and part of you starts to panic. What if he only meant it at the moment? You’ve had fleeting conversations about one day being married, but it was always lighthearted and more in a “one day we will” way.

When Seungcheol finally answers you, it’s in the form of a sigh. Wordlessly, he lifts you from his softening cock and untangles your limbs, sitting you down in the tub.

“I didn’t want to do this now or like this, but I can’t hold it anymore. Especially not when you ask me and look at me like that.” He steps out of the tub, giving you another look before sticking his feet in his complimentary hotel slippers and shuffling into the main part of the room.

You watch him rummage around in his suitcase before he comes back to the tub and kneels on the bath mat, facing you. You immediately spot the red velvet box in his hands and you gasp, tears immediately gathering in your eyes.

“I wanted to do this when we got to Washington and say some cheesy words about seeing the world with you and traveling everywhere with you for the rest of our lives, but I can’t wait any longer. Y/n Y/l/n, will you do me the honor of being my forever Valentine and be my wife?” The emerald stone of the ring shines back at you, surrounded by small diamonds on a gold band.

“Yes! Of course I will, Cheol!” you sob, tears blurring your vision as he plucks the ring from the box and slips it onto your finger, placing a kiss on your knuckle after it’s securely on.

Seungcheol cups your face with both hands as he leans forward and kisses you. The kiss is soft and warm and you can just feel the love that Choi Seungcheol holds for you in his heart seep out. His love overtakes you, your heart feeling more full than you think it’s ever been.

“I love you so much, Y/n.” he sighs when he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“I love you too, Seungcheol. So fucking much.”

Your boyfriend fiance smiles widely at you, his own eyes red-rimmed with potential tears as he scans your face. “I can’t wait to officially make you my wife. And you know, if you want, we are in Vegas so we could technically make it official tonight.”

With a sniffle, you shake your head. “Patience, my love. We can worry about all that wedding stuff when we get home. Let’s just focus on us and this, and right now.”

He pouts dramatically before kissing your forehead. “Fine, I’ll wait.”

“Good boy,” you giggle, watching the way his eyes darken at your playful praise. “Now, how about we actually open that champagne and order room service? I’m still craving sushi badly.”

With a chuckle Seungcheol nods, standing as goes back into the room to look for the room service menu.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. We have all night to eat anything you want to order.”

“Good, because if they have good pizza I want that later too. Oh! Or maybe kimchi jeon if they happen to have that!” Seungcheol chuckles at your enthusiasm as he comes back with the menu.

Before you order, he helps you out of the tub when you complain about the water going cold. Dinner is put on hold again when you decide that a warm shower in the luxurious shower stall in the bathroom should come first before you get comfortable for the evening.

In between the warm water cascading over you and Seungcheol helping wash your back, you end up bent over the bench in the shower, Seungcheol slipping into your still-aching cunt again.

As your fiance makes you cry out around him yet again, somewhere between the moans and grunts, you’re both able to whisper “I love you” and “Happy Valentine's Day” when you share another blissful orgasm.

Tomorrow you’ll be back on the road and back to making the rounds for silly souvenirs, but tonight it’s all about you and Seungcheol and this moment right here. You can’t wait to have many, many more Valentine’s Days with the love of your life.

Permanent Taglist: @aaniag

Net Tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf

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apenapaperandadoofus · 2 years ago

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Felix would be like all of us mid pandemic when Zoom added filters and we’d spend the whole time switching between the dumb hats and stuff lol

Ellie knows but I'm literally obsessed with the idea of UB discovering face time

#this comes from the time me and my friends kept laughing in the middle of calculus bc we kept switching filters #listen if I didn’t pay attention in clases before that shit made it worse lmaooo #i literally spent the whole two hours just switching between filters pFT #imagine UB in the middle of a meeting and A’s like right so they killled this one supernatural and F interrupts like #ok but have you seen this filter where you have a top hat a monocle and a mustache and then tries to goad the rest of UB to join #N would be happy with like a bunny filter or smth #M would refuse #i want A to use the stupidest one just so F can stfu but then forget how to turn it off and proceed the meeting with like #a frog on his head or smth

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mulloey · 6 months ago

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a lesson learned • seonghwa

you just can’t seem to stay away from trouble. your husband sets you straight.

request for @89petals

word count: 5.9k

western au, dom husband!seonghwa x innocent sub!reader ft. outlaws!mingi, san & wooyoung.

warnings: angry sex, punishment, impact, degredation, glove kink, mask kink. mentioned whipping & public humiliation. not proofread.

—————

Seonghwa knows you’re naive. It’s not hard to tell; the way you carry yourself, the way you talk, the way you stare so sweetly at him, everything about you exudes innocence, screams vulnerability. And not just to him — he sees it in the eyes of all the men you encounter. It’s obvious, visceral, primal; the desire to touch you, to dirty your pure, unsullied skin with their calloused hands and sweet talking. The longing to be the one to corrupt you. To ruin you. And he knows it’s only him, his protection, standing in their way. Stopping you from falling into one of their traps. Keeping you safe.

He’s tried so hard to make you see it like that; to make you understand. Understand that you need his protection, why you need it; what would happen without it.

But you just don’t get it. No matter how hard he tries, you just don’t understand. He knows it’s partially his fault; he spoils you incessantly, rotten, some would say — though how any man could resist doing so is a mystery he could never untangle. But he’s tried to be harder on you; tried to put his foot down, draw the line and say “this is how it’s going to be.” And it almost works. Each time, he almost gets through to you — almost.

Because then, just as he dares to think he’s won, you look up at him with those wide, doe eyes, a quivering lip as you ask him in your softest voice “why, Seonghwa? Have I been bad?” And he folds. Like any man would, he folds; takes you into his arms, cooing reassurances that you’re never bad, baby, you’re the best girl in the world until he forgets why he was even trying to be strict in the first place. And it works every time. Sly little minx.

Today is one of those days — one of those days where he wishes he had your reins a little tighter, regrets never having followed through and kept you in line. Because today, like so many times before, he doesn’t know where you are. You’d gone out this morning to see your friends, promising to be back soon, but you weren’t. It’s evening now, close to dusk, and with each passing second he grows more worried about you, more frantic to get you home before dark. He’s searched most of town, all your favourite places and usual hangouts, and come up empty. And no one he’s spoken to — all of them familiar with you as the beautiful, innocent wife of the man who runs the town — has seen you since the morning. Where on earth have you gone?

“I’m sorry,” the barkeep says, looking genuinely remorseful — you are, by his own admission, his ‘sweetest customer’ after all. “I truly haven’t seen her, sir. Nor her friends.”

Seonghwa grunts, shaking his head in frustration; it’s starting to hurt now. A stress headache, maybe. “I just don’t know where she could be, Will,” he groans. “I don’t want her out after dark. She’d get into all kinds of trouble with the sorts that come out then.”

The barkeep nods, grim understanding on his face. “I agree, sir. I’m really sorry I can’t help you, but I’m sure she’ll be back soon. She’s a good girl and she loves ya. She won’t have run off.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” he mumbles.

Thoughts of all the wrong sorts in the town, visions of how they could have taken you, what they could be doing to you, plague his thoughts, increasing his heart rate so much he barely manages to collapse into a nearby seat in time. The barkeep watches with a worried expression as Seonghwa leans back, breathing laboured as he removes his hat and slams it down on the bare table.

“Heat getting to ya?” He asks. “Don’t be so troubled, sir. She’s done this before, hasn’t she? Bet ya she’s gone after some frog again.”

If the situation weren’t so dire, Seonghwa would laugh at the memory; when you were still his fiancé and, having not seen you the entire day, he’d sent a search party looking for you, only for you to be found just out of bounds with the explanation that you’d “seen a frog” and had followed it so far you’d lost track of where you were. Seonghwa had almost cried with relief then, holding you in his arms as though you’d risen from the dead, but was so angry with you that he barely managed to hold it together until you got back to the house — and when you did, he’d doled out enough consequences to ensure you never made that mistake again. Or so he thought.

“Maybe,” he mumbles. He’s seconds away from calling another search party when a commotion outside draws his attention, as do the familiar voices of the two men in this town he can always trust to cause trouble.

Groaning, he rushes out of the bar, ready to admonish them for causing such a stir — but before he can, his eyes find a familiar face on the back of a familiar white horse. His heart warms at the welcome sight of his missing wife; as his blood pressure rises at the unwelcome sight of who you’d been with.

You stare at him with love and unease — happy to see him but no doubt aware of the trouble you’re in. You bite your lip, swallowing thickly as you dismount. Too nervous to approach him, you hesitate, lingering behind the men you’d ridden with.

“So this is who you meant by ‘friends’,” Seonghwa says as coolly as he can manage. “Mingi, San and…” He squints, not recognising the man next to them. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Wooyoung, sir,” the man grins, waving cheerfully. The man next to him, Mingi, snorts amusedly. Seonghwa almost lunges.

“Wooyoung,” he repeats. He knows he’s sneering as he says his name; sounding it out like it’s something shameful, but if Wooyoung is offended, he doesn’t say anything. The others have clearly told him who Seonghwa is, and the control he has of everything in this world town. Especially the girl they’d taken out, apparently without his permission.

“Did you have fun with my wife, Wooyoung?” He asks. “And you two? Did you have fun too?”

“Nothing improper happened, Seonghwa,” Mingi says coolly. “She wanted to go for a ride and we took her.”

“I’m sure,” Seonghwa replies darkly. Mingi at least has the decency to look a little uneasy, knowing Seonghwa could get him in a lot more trouble than he’d like. Not wanting to bother with the outlaws anymore, he turns his gaze back to you, eyes narrowing. “Come here.”

He watches you silently as you approach him, feeling your nerves with each step. He’s sure you’re half expecting him to strike you in front of everyone — even strip you down and punish you right here. But he’d never do that — instead, when you finally reach him, he pulls you into a tight, crushing hug. Tears prickle at his eyes as he inhales your scent, that sweet, perfect scent he was starting to wonder if he’d smell again. “I was so fucking worried about you,” he whispers into your hair. “My sweet little girl.”

You sigh contentedly into his chest for a moment until he abruptly pulls back, eyes narrowing as he regards the crowd that’s formed around you. “Everyone go home,” he orders. “Mingi, San, get out of here and take the boy with you. We’re leaving.”

He doesn’t wait for people to obey — just grabs your hand and drags you over to where he’d tied his horse. You try to speak but he ignores you; he lifts you up and onto the horse without a word, ignoring your protests as he steadies you before jumping up himself. “Hold my waist,” he says. Finally having some sense, you obey, saying nothing as you ride to his home on the hill — looming above the town and reminding you just who you’re dealing with.

When you arrive he lifts you off the horse, his grip on your waist harsher than usual as he plants you on the ground. He hands the reins to a waiting servant, who leads the horse away, leaving you alone with your husband. He doesn’t look at you, just orders you into the house with a stern tone. As you turn to walk towards the door he lands a harsh slap against your ass; with your layers of skirts and undergarments you should barely feel it, but Seonghwa is so strong and so angry that it’s as painful as if he had lifted up your skirts and smacked your bare skin. You squeak, losing your balance slightly before regaining it and rushing towards the door. It’s open, you assume unlocked by the servant as he’d seen your horse approaching, allowing you to slip inside and out of the desert sun.

You’re crouched down and unlacing your boots when you hear the door open and close again, and you hardly have time to register the presence behind you when it grabs a fistful of your hair, forcing you to your feet.

“Seonghwa!” You protest, flailing in his painful grip. A low noise emanates from his throat, almost a growl, and before you know what’s happened he’s landed a harsh, stinging slip on your cheek. Your jaw drops and you gape at him, staggering back when he loosens his grip. You can scarcely believe what’s just happened, what he’s just done — he’s struck you before, certainly, but never out of anger and never on the face.

“You need a fucking attitude adjustment,” he growls. His voice is deeper than you knew it could even get and he sounds downright dangerous. “I’ve been too lenient for too long.”

You whine, staring at him with your trademark eyes but this time he doesn’t react — doesn’t falter, doesn’t soften, doesn’t give in or give way to you. Your heart skips a beat at the realisation — he’s not falling for it this time. “Seonghwa, I’m sorr—”

“No, little girl,” he interjects. You swallow, bile in your threat. He really has no patience for you now. “You listen to me,” he says. “I’ve tried so hard to help you understand the dangers of this town but you just won’t listen.” He grabs you again, this time by the neck but doesn’t apply much pressure. Not that he needs to; you’ve always been putty in his hands. Now with no choice but to look at him, you see the fire in his eyes, the blazing spark — you’ve provoked him. Set him ablaze. You’re going to get burned. “Clearly,” he says, “I need to make you understand.”

You’re silent for a moment, letting his words hang in the air as you digest them. Your mouth opens and closes a couple times until you can finally force out a single syllable. “How?”

He chuckles; a dry, humourless chuckle that scratches at your throat. His eyes flicker up and down as he takes you in, admiring the body he owns and imagining what he could do to it. He bites his lip, not quite drawing blood but still hard and affected. “By showing you the dangers,” he says.

He releases you, sending you stumbling backwards again. He eyes you carefully, chuckling when he sees that one of your shoes is still on your feet. “Take that off,” he says, pointing to it. “Quickly.”

Nodding, you scramble to obey; you’re so nervous that your hands are shaking, making it hard to undo the tight laces of your boots, but you manage — perhaps due to the sharp, watching eyes you feel on you the entire time. You stand back up, feeling exposed now even though you’re fully clothed. Unsure what to say, you wait for him to speak; it seems to please him. “Go to our room,” he says. “Wait for me on the bed while I fetch a few things. You’re going to learn a good lesson tonight, sweetheart.”

Ignoring the terrifying undertones of his words, you turn on your heel, scrambling up the rickety wooden staircase; the steps creak under the pressure but you don’t doubt they can support your weight — Seonghwa built this house with his own two hands, and he knows what he’s doing; above all, he’d never do anything to put you in danger, through negligence or otherwise.

Reaching the top floor you scurry quietly down the hallway, pushing open the door to your shared bedroom and closing it softly behind you. Unsure what to do with Seonghwa’s vague instructions, you elect to keep your clothes on — he’d never told you to remove them, after all — and chance your luck that he may see fit to inflict whatever punishment he has in mind over your garments. After all, if he’s gone to fetch the riding crop, which is usually what he means when he ‘fetches something’ before a punishment, it’s not like your clothes would hinder the effectiveness of his discipline — as a renowned horseman, Seonghwa is more than capable with a riding crop, and would certainly be able to bruise, perhaps even cut you through your clothes. Not that he would cut you — but he could. Even his hands can inflict a world of damage.

Minutes later you hear the telling sounds of creaking on the staircase; as the footsteps get closer you recognise them as Seonghwa and you swallow, shifting uneasily on the bed. You wonder what he’s going to do to you — what he meant by “showing you the danger”. You trust him with your life but the fact remains that you live far from the rest of the town, so if something did happen, your screams would almost certainly go unheard — in fact, you know they would. It’s something you’ve both enjoyed and certainly made the most of before, but if he decided to use it for some other purpose, you’d be in trouble.

Minutes later the door opens to reveal him standing in the doorway, still in his brimmed hat and long leather coat and you shudder — even after five years of marriage, the mere silhouette of Seonghwa still intimidates you. When he steps out of the shadow you blink for a moment, confused. Seonghwa hasn’t fetched the riding crop, instead gathering an armful of ropes— but that’s not what catches your attention. What catches your attention is the thick cloth pulled over Seonghwa’s mouth and nose, fashioned into a mask. Paired with his hat it conceals his face almost entirely and makes him an utterly menacing figure.

He takes a step inside, spurs clinking against his boots as he walks. It’s not a sound you often hear inside, and it feels more threatening than familiar. You gulp, shifting back slightly but not enough to be out of his reach — you’re smarter than that.

He stares down at you for a moment, taking you in and scrutinising you, before that familiar voice sounds out, deeper and more menacing than ever.

“Since you think it’s so funny to run off with strange men,” he says, a little muffled through the mask but still painfully clear. “Men I’ve specifically warned you about, and you’ve refused to listen…” You hang your head, ashamed, but through hooded eyes still stare curiously at the sight in front of you. “I’m going to show you exactly why I told you to stay away from them in the first place.”

You drop your gaze, staring down at the wooden floorboards with a racing heartbeat. He clicks his tongue. “Look at me.”

You find obeying isn’t as easy as it should be — the sight of him now is overwhelming, and something about the way he towers over you, face hidden, intentions concealed… it flusters you. You want to blush and giggle and run far, far away.

He comes closer again, reaching to grip your chin and the moment his hand meets your face an electrifying feeling races through you. His voice is gruff when he speaks, eyes boring into yours. “I’m going to show you what bad men can do,” he says. “What they’d do to you if they could.”

His grip tightens, holding you still; the pressure of his fingers is bruising, painful against your skin and he knows it. His eyes flicker across your chest, peeking out of the top of your dress. They narrow slightly, stern and scrutinising but the pupils are dilated. “Was that like this when you left this morning?”

You look down for a moment, holding back a smile when you see what he’s asking. “You mean were my breasts so visible?” You ask.

“Yes.”

You giggle slightly and he tightens his grip again, forcing the smile off your face. You whine. “They weren’t,” you insist. “My dress slipped a little as I came up the stairs.”

He stares at you a moment, probably trying to decide if he believes you. He clicks his tongue. “I hope you’re right. And I certainly hope Mingi would agree with that assessment, should I happen across him tomorrow.”

“He would,” you reply. “I swear, Hwa.” You feel tears prickle at your eyes as you stare desperately at him, trying to convince him — among other things. You see the conflict on his face as he watches your display.

Usually, now would be the time where he’d give in — when you give him those eyes and promise so sweetly that to be a good girl for him. ‘Hwa’ doesn’t help either; you know that name is his kryptonite. But this time he doesn’t fold; doesn’t give in like he always does. He can’t. He doesn’t want to. Because while before, your sweet disposition and cute, childish antics, made him want to squish your cheeks and give you everything you could possibly want, now it makes him want to ruin you. To watch you fall apart beneath him; to tarnish your pure, clean soul the way he’s been trying to tell you the other men in the town are so desperate to. No, you’re not getting out of this today. He’s going to break you down and ruin you and then maybe you’ll learn.

He releases your chin, noticing with a smile the deep red marks left by the imprints of his fingers. “Strip,” he orders. “And do it quickly. ‘Cause I have to take that pretty little dress off myself, there won’t be much left of it when I’m done.”

You know he’s not bluffing this time — a number of your dresses have been ruined in this way; torn off in the heat of passion by your hungry, or angry, husband. Standing, you hurry to obey, removing your corset and skirts until you’re down to your underwear. Your gaze flickers to him, unsure. He nods, a silent order and you gulp as you remove your underwear; the last, thin pieces of fabrics protecting your modesty. Now fully nude, next to your husband who hasn’t even removed his shoes, you feel vulnerable and exposed in a way you’re not sure if you like. He stares at you for a moment and the mask prevents you from gauging his reaction. You stand nervously, resisting the urge to try to cover yourself; it wouldn’t work, first of all, and would only anger him further. He clicks his tongue. “Turn around.”

Nodding, you turn slowly to face the bed. His presence behind you is a looming, inescapable feeling even before he touches you; he runs a finger across your ass, inspecting the tender flesh. He makes a noise somewhere between pity and arousal and you realise you’re probably still sporting the marks from when he’d corrected you last; a painful, bruising correction that had left you crying and begging his forgiveness — and for something much lesser than this, you recall. You gulp as you realise he probably has much worse planned for you today.

“Gosh,” he says, almost whispering. He applies a gentle pressure to one of the marks; a bruise, by the feel of it — not enough pressure to truly hurt, but just enough to remind you that the bruise is there and why. “You just can’t behave, can you, my girl?”

A whine escapes, face pink with embarrassment at his patronising, humiliating tone but you don’t dare move — you know better. ��I’m sorry, Hwa,” you whisper. When you say that name this time, he can tell it’s not a tactic or charm — you truly are sorry, and you truly want to be good. He smiles proudly at the thought. His sweet girl.

“I’ve really been too lenient, have I?” He says. Knowing you can’t see it, he doesn’t bother hiding the affectionate smile on his face. “Don’t worry, baby. That ends today.”

You gulp, nodding your assent and for a moment it seems nothing’s happening — until a strong hand on your back pushing you forwards, forcing you to bend over the bed. You make a noise of surprise, not having expected the movement, but you stay still. He stands and takes you in for a moment before his hands are on you, running down your sides with more tenderness than you expected. But that doesn’t last for long; when he reaches your ass he winds his hand back, and you hear the smack he inflicts on the bruised skin coming even before it lands. When it does, it takes a second for the pain to register; it blooms across your sensitive skin, white-hot and agonising. You cry out but have the good sense to do it into the blankets, muffling the noise. He lands another slap on the same spot, then another, ignoring your cries and apologies. After ten or so smacks he seems to get bored, backing away from you, and you realise with as much relief as fear that he doesn’t intend on beating you tonight — at least, not as your main punishment. Which means your main punishment is something else, and you have a feeling it won’t be a whole lot more lenient.

He returns quickly, grabbing a fistful of your hair in one hand while the other holds you down by your waist. “Did you like that?” He asks, voice rasped.

You shake your head, still sobbing slightly. “No, Seonghwa.”

“Good.” His hand moves from your waist to your ass, tightly gripping the spot he’d victimised — no doubt red and swollen thanks to his efforts. You cry out, dizzy with pain. “You shouldn’t like it,” he says, emphasising his point with a squeeze that almost makes you black out. “That way you’ll finally fucking learn.”

You nod, groaning at the lingering pain that persists even after he loosens his grip. He makes a noise almost like a snarl.

“Tell me, baby,” he says softly. “Do you think Mingi would make love to you?” He pulls at your hair slightly, just enough pressure to sting. You gulp. “You think San would stop if it got too much?” His hand moves down, gripping the supple skin of your upper thigh.

You bite your lip, unsure of how to answer — the outlaws Seonghwa hates so much have actually been nice to you so far, though he of course claims it’s only to piss him off. But you know what he wants to hear and you want to be good — you want him to be merciful. “No, Seonghwa,” you gasp, though it comes out as more of a whine. You’re painfully aware of his hand on the back of your thigh, squeezing at the skin and refusing to relieve or indulge you beyond that. “They wouldn’t.”

“That’s right,” he growls. “So neither will I.”

You hear shuffling behind you before something touches your arm — but it’s not Seonghwa’s soft yet rough hands. It’s harder, thicker, a little scratchy… it’s the rope. You gasp, breath hitching as he wraps the rope carefully around your arms, tying them together against your back. He leans down to whisper in your ear, “Your safeword is ‘pickles’. Remember it.”

You giggle at the choice of safeword — pickles is your horse, white and grey and beautiful and certainly an unforgettable safeword. “Okay,” you whisper.

He chuckles, moving away behind you. Craning your neck, you see him removing the hat, coat and boots — undoubtedly bothersome particularly when he’s trying to educate you. But the mask stays, and you watch as he pulls on a pair of thick, leather gloves. You swallow — he never wears those gloves with you; they’re the gloves he wears when, as the de-facto leader of the town, he deals with outlaws and criminals and anyone who causes problems — anyone he’d rather not touch. Just by putting them on in front of you he’s shown you his anger; your place. You’re dirt to him now.

When he returns to you he wastes no time; he places a leg on each side of you, holding you in place and putting him closer to where he wants to be. The feeling of his leather gloves on your skin sends shivers down your spine for a multitude of reasons but you do your best to stay still and pliant. They run across your skin, coming to hold onto your waist, squeezing it softly before suddenly they’re on your ass, grabbing your cheeks and spreading them apart — exposing you fully to him.

Without realising you shrink into yourself slightly, trying to make yourself smaller — avoid the embarrassment and humiliation of having everything on slow. He chuckles, gripping you tighter as he spits down. The saliva lands between your two holes and with one large finger he rubs up and down, spreading the spit between them. You shiver as his finger ghosts across your sensitive pussy and even more sensitive asshole, coating them with spit. But you can't do much more than shiver; the grip of his other hand on your is iron and immobilising, and you know from experience that if you make things difficult for him, Seonghwa has no qualms with striking your pussy almost as hard as he does your ass, and you don’t want to find out if he’d have any qualms about doing that to your other hole. You can’t even imagine how that would feel.

“How do you feel?” He asks, not sounding incredibly concerned with the answer. “Are you embarrassed, baby? Your holes spat on like you’re some cheap saloon girl?”

You whine and, forgetting your situation, try to reach for him — for comfort or reprieve, you don’t know. It’s only when the rope bites into your arms as you strain against them that you remember what he’d done — how he’d tied you up like a mare. “I’m embarrassed, Hwa.”

“Good,” he says, and you hear the smile in his voice. “Be embarrassed. But tell me this, honey. If those outlaws you like so much finally got their hands on you — do you think they’d use spit? Do you think they’d use anything to make it easier for you?”

“I don’t know,” you gasp.

He laughs dryly. “No, they wouldn’t,” he says. “They’d tear you open, baby. And it’d be even worse than this.”

He doesn’t give your time to react before he plunges not one but two fingers into your sensitive hole, making you choke — the thick leather coating his fingers makes them even bigger and harder to take and you feel like you’re on fire; not the mention the disbelief that your temperate, if a little severe husband, is treating you like this. You thrash in his hold but it’s no use; he only gives you a few seconds to adjust before he starts pumping in and out of you, stretching you even further. It feels good but it’s so, so much. You don’t know what to do or how to take it and the stupid rope around your arms means you can’t even hold onto him. He hums. “Must be hard, huh? Taking my fingers like that?”

“It is.”

“It should be. This is how you wanted to be treated, right? That must be why you love those outlaws so much. Because this is what you really wanted. To be treated as the cheap slut they see you as, yeah?”

You’re rutting desperately against the bed now, trying to get any kind of friction Seonghwa’s immobilising grip allows and maybe it’s because he knows he’s pushing you so hard — or perhaps he likes seeing you so desperate and pathetic — that he doesn’t stop you. The moment you’re sufficiently stretched a third gloved finger invades you and didn’t even know you could be this stretched without his dick. You’re sobbing now; tears smearing against the thin blankets as you shake beneath his hold. He chuckles; “tell me it feels good,” he says.

“It fee— God, it feels so good Hwa,” you cry, so loud it hurts your throat and rings in your ears. He laughs, hooking a hand under your waist to lift you up slightly, angling you so your holes are even more exposed and he can go even deeper. Your screams fall on deaf ears — as they probably will for the rest of the night.

“Good girl,” Seonghwa praises, and it eases your pain for a moment before it’s back in full force as he increases his pace. “I reckon you’re learning your lesson, aren’t you?”

You sob into the blankets, nodding fervently — you certainly are learning, though you’re not sure if it’s the pain or the pleasure that’s reaching you. But your sweet husband is gone tonight, replaced with an animal — and it’s not one you want to provoke again. “Yes, Hwa.”

“Good. ‘Cause if I have to teach it again, I’m not waiting to get you somewhere private. Understood?”

“Yes, Hwa,” you groan.

“Good.” He pulls his fingers out, leaving you empty and gaping. You feel your wetness begin to trickle down your leg and he traces it with his finger, gathering the juices. He grabs your hair again, yanking it backwards to pull your head towards him. “Open up.”

You let your mouth fall open uncertainly and he shoves his fingers inside, making you gag. “Suck,” he orders and you do; swirling your tongue across his juice-coated fingers as you suckle desperately at them. “Taste good?” He asks and you nod — you do taste good. Sweet, even. You’re quite proud of it — but that doesn’t make this any less humiliating.

“Good,” he says, pulling his fingers out and moving to grip your waist. “I’m gonna fuck you now. Think you can take it?”

You bite your lip, pondering your answer. “It doesn— it doesn’t matter,” you say softly, knowing what he wants to hear.

“Good answer, baby,” he chuckles. “Fuck, you’re not so dumb after all, are you?”

You shake your head, flushing a little at the condescending undertones of his words and you hear him exhale a stuttered breath. You know he’s as pent up as you are now — you don’t know what he’s going to do with it. “Hwa…”

“I’m here, baby,” he says. “Hwa’s gonna fuck you now. Not gonna be gentle, either. What’s your safeword?”

You sniffle. “Pickles.”

“Good girl,” he says, smoothing a hand across your flushed skin. You notice he’s pulled the gloves off now and you’ve never been so grateful to feel his bare skin on yours; but knowing what he’s taken them off for, what he plans to do to you, doesn’t allow you much comfort from it. “Remember that. There’s a good chance you’ll need it.”

He pulls back and for a long, unending moment, he’s gone from your sight and touch. Anticipation hangs in the air as you await his return; tension and arousal combined and lingering as the seconds pass slowly and fearfully. You squirm slightly, desperate for sensation and hoping he’ll notice, until he returns. Two large hands grip your ass, spreading the cheeks apart again. You hear him spit again, feel the saliva as it lands and smears across your pussy before you feel that familiar stretch as his thick, hard cock begins to penetrate you. He takes his sweet time inserting himself, dragging it out and it’s as much a mercy as it is a torture. When he’s finally in, your still-tight pussy only just withstanding it, he starts to move — slowly at first, then faster and faster until he’s at his full speed and power. He’s never gotten there so fast or so ruthlessly and as good as it feels, you know you’re at the edge of what you can take.

So does he — his grip on you is iron and unyielding, surely bruising you further as he uses your fragile frame to allow and force himself deeper into you. You know you’re crying; sobbing and calling his name with each movement and you think he’s saying something to you, but among all the feelings and sensations and the ever-present stretch that pulls and forces you open, the exact words he says don’t quite reach you. He’s never fucked you like this — fast and hard and without consideration for your pleasure and you feel like a toy, an object; existing only to service him. You know that’s his point — that to others, you are an object, and they’d never take as good care of you as he does. And for the first time you’re really starting to understand the truth of his warnings; as fast and intense as this is, there's still love and care hidden deep, deep beneath it. If you let those outlaws get anywhere near you, it’ll be a lot, lot worse.

As he approaches his orgasm you’re certain you’ve bitten through your lip; the taste of iron fills your mouth, your shown body strained and breaking under the enormous pressure of Seonghwa’s exertions of it. When he finally comes it’s louder, harder, deeper than he’s ever been and you quickly find yourself coming too; orgasm forced out of you by the sheer force of his own. You know you’re sobbing as you come down, heart still pounding against your skull, permeating every inch of you and Seonghwa stays still for a moment, dick softening but still deep inside you before he finally pulls out with a groan. You feel liquid pour from your hole as he does so; his cum and your juices rushing down your thigh and you hear him chuckle.

“Dirty girl,” he muses. He gathers it on his fingers again, this time placing them into his mouth, tasting the mixture of your juices and his and he makes a noise of appreciation. “Delicious, baby.”

When you start to whine again he’s quick to gather you up, skillfully untying your arms before pulling you into his hold. He situates himself in bed, back against the pillow as he holds you against his chest, rocking you back and forth. He’s patient as he waits for you to come down and back to earth, greeting you with a fond smile when you finally open your eyes, staring up at him as lovingly as you always do. He pinches your cheek, cooing at you as he speaks. “That was incredible, baby,” he says. “How do you feel?”

Your breathing is still staggered, voice soft and raspy as you answer. “Feel fine, Seonghwa.”

“Good,” he smiles. “You gonna run around with outlaws again, baby?”

You sniff, shaking your head and nuzzling further into his touch. “No.”

“I’m glad,” he says. “Because I’d so hate to have to fuck you like that again.”

You hold back a chuckle, sighing in his hold. You know he’s lying — and when you whisper back, “So would I, Hwa,” you both know you’re lying too.

—————

thanks for reading! reblog and comment if you enjoyed. requests are open!🖤🖤🖤

#ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez x reader #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa smut #seonghwa hard thoughts #seonghwa hard hours #seonghwa x reader #dom seonghwa #ateez au #mulloey writes

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lavandulawrites · 6 months ago

Text

Autonomy Of a Free Soul

Chapter 1: Wonderland

This is an yandere genshin men x reader that will have multiple chapters (I don’t know how many just yet). Every genshin male will be a part of this “harem” sooner or later. This will be cross posted on ao3. It will partially follow the plot of genshin impact.

Masterlist

Synopsis: You find yourself in the meadow by the giant oak tree at Windrise. You have faint memories of falling into a well which is deeply hidden inside a cave by your home. You get captivated by the tune a green clad man plays on his lyre high up in the tree.

Warnings: female reader

Word count: 4227

Light peered through your eyelashes as your eyelids fluttered. A pleasant warmth enveloped you. The fresh breeze caressed your cheeks. The surface underneath you was soft and you would have thought that it was a bed had you not smelled the fresh air of the outdoors.

You slowly opened your eyes and blinked at the sun. Your slowly sat up and let your eyes roam your surroundings. You were laying on a green meadow filled with various delicate wild flowers. A few birds flew across the clear sky. A few dandelion seeds blowed with the wind towards you. To your right were a huge tree, who’s branches reached for the blue endless sky.

After a while you rose to your feet and began following the little stream up to the tree. A couple of fishes swam happily along the stream and a few frogs hopped in front of your path.

Despite your confused state, you were filled with tranquility. Had you not known better, you would have thought you had reached heaven.

As you stopped by the large tree you heard the soft melody of a lyre. You walked around the thick trunk in search of its source.

On one of its thick branches sat a light green clad man. His long and slender fingers gently strummed the strings of his lyre, creating a beautiful melody. Though the melody had no words, you could feel the heavy emotion it carried.

You had no idea how long you stood underneath the tree listening to his song. The man opened his eyes and revealed his stunning cyan irises. He was around your age, early twenties, but his big eyes revealed wisdom beyond your imagination.

His gaze met yours and you were stunned by his beauty. He hopped down from the branch with playful elegance.

He bowed before you, his lyre behind his back. “Hello my beautiful maiden. What an honour it is to have such a stunning lady to be my audience. I am truly a lucky bard” he smiled and winked at you playfully.

You were taken aback by his flirtatious words. “Hello” you smiled back. “Your music is really beautiful. Does the song you just played have a name?”

“Not yet” he shook his head. He tapped his chin in a thoughtful manner before he lit up “What if I name it after you? What’s your name sweetheart?” his tone gleeful.

“[Name]. What’s yours?”

“Oh my, what a lovely name! I am Venti the bard” he took of his hat and bowed deeply, with his feet crossed. He spun his hat in the air before he put it back on. “I haven’t seen you around before and believe me when I say that I know everyone in Mondstadt. So [Name], where exactly are you from?”

At his question your eyes widened. You had almost forgotten how you woke up suddenly in the flowerbed. Before you had woken up in this unfamiliar landscape, you had been on a walk in the woods by your home. You had explored a cave and had tripped on a root and fallen down into an ancient well. When you opened your eyes you found yourself here in the meadow.

“You are right I’m not from around here” you sighed. You hesitated. Was it wise to tell him about the well? You couldn’t be too sure if he was to be trusted or not. After a moment of thinking, you chose to tell him all the details. Maybe he could help you? “I fell into a well inside a cave back home, but strangely I can’t remember everything else. My memories from my home is there, but they’re glossy” you prayed that he wouldn’t think that you were crazy.

“I see…That’s really unfortunate. I don’t think I can help you with returning home” Venti smiled sadly.

“It’s okay. I guess there is no helping it…”

His hand slipped into his shorts and pulled out a cloth that was round in shape. He opened the flowery cloth and revealed the reddest apple you had ever seen. “Do you like apples? I myself absolutely love them. I can’t ever seem to get enough” he laughed.

“I love apples” you nodded and returned his smile.

Venti skilfully broke the apple in half with his fingers. He gave you one of the half’s. The aroma of the apple reached your nose and you hummed in delight.

“Smells good? It will taste even better” he took a bite himself and closed his eyes in delight.

You followed his example. The taste did not disappoint. The apple was juicy and sweet. It was perfect.

“Do you know where you’ll stay tonight?” he asked as he wiped his fingers in the cloth. His apple completely vanished.

“No…” you smiled sheepishly.

“I see… The city is quite far away. A couple of hours walk in fact.”

His eyes got a certain glint in them. “But I have another way of transportation” he winked.

You tilted your head at his implication. “Another way of transportation? What might that be?”

Venti turned his back slightly towards you and pointed at a round crystal decoration. “I’ll use this! The power of anemo sure is amazing!”

“Anemo?” you blinked at him.

Venti quickly spun around. His expression one of shock. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what visions and elemental powers are?”

“Umm… I don’t… Sorry” you winced in embarrassment. You really didn’t understand a thing.

“I guess you really aren’t from around here. Worry not! Visions are amulets that let people control the elements. Anemo is the wind element. Mondstadt, where we are now, is the nation of anemo”

“Ohh… I see” you nodded, but you found it difficult to believe in amulets and elemental powers. Was he playing tricks on you?

“I can sense your hesitation. Let me demonstrate”. The bard held his hand of for you to take. “May I?”

You nodded as you took his hand. His skin was soft and warm.

Wind engulfed you both as Venti wrapped his arms around you. “Hold on tight!”

The wind lifted you both up high in the air. You two soared fast in the air and you clutched your hands at tightly as you could onto his arms. “Don’t be scared! Trust me! We will not fall down”

The landscape became almost blurry underneath your feet as you moved as fast as the wind. You had never felt as free as you did soaring high in the air with a man you just had met. It felt like a scene from one of the fairytales your mother used to read you.

A city could be seen in to horizon. When you two got closer, you could faintly make out three large windmills and a large cathedral.

“That’s Mondstadt city. The city of freedom. Home to many bards such as myself” Venti’s breath ghosted your air softly.

“It’s beautiful” you said in awe.

Venti laughed at your comment. “It really is isn’t it?” he sounded almost like a proud father.

The two of you landed in front of a big stone bridge which led up to the city.

The cobblestone clicked underneath your shoes as you made your way over. A small boy was standing by the edge of the bridge feeding a couple of pigeons. The birds fled at the sight of the two of you, earning you both an earful from the little boy.

When you reached the gates, you were greeted by two knights. Venti only smiled and greeted them, which they returned.

The city was lively and music filled the streets. Multiple street vendors were littered across the streets.

Venti led you up to a more quiet part of town. “This hotel is both cheap and nice” he told you as he opened the hotel door which was painted a lively red colour.

The walls were of dark brown panel and the red rug with a forest motif that led to the staircase was well-loved. The lobby was decorated with different nicknacks. On the walls were paintings of the city.

The owner of the hotel was an elderly man with blond hair with greying streaks. When he smiled his eyes crinkled with crows feet. He looked like someone’s grandfather. He smiled at Venti from behind the reception desk that was cluttered with various papers and an comical large flower vase filled with tulips in the colour of the rainbow. “Hello Venti. What can I do for you today?”

“Hello Meier. Do you have any rooms available for this young lady?” he smiled at the man. Venti had told you on the way to the hotel that Meier owed him a favour. “She doesn’t have anywhere to stay tonight and I thought since you owe me, that maybe you had a spare room for her?”

Meier’s smile turned sheepish. “I’m sorry Venti, but I really don’t have any spare room. The whole hotel is booked. You see a couple of diplomats from the other nations have come here and they have taken all the rooms in the finer hotels”. He turned his eyes round you “I am really sorry miss. Perhaps you could try some of the ins close to the city?”

You bid your farewells to Meier before you exited the hotel.

You sighed as you sat down at a bench near a fountain. You were far from home, in a whole different world given the unfamiliar city and the weird creatures or rather monsters you had seen, and you had absolutely nowhere to stay the night. Money was also something you completely lacked.

Venti was staring of into the distance, deeply lost in thought. After a while he turned towards you. “As Meier said, the other hotels are absolutely packed so it’s not worth to even check. ” he sighed. “I’m sorry. Here I was trying to be a good Mondstadt guide too” he shook his head, causing his braids to gently flap against his cheeks in a rather cute manner.

“No, no. Don’t apologise. This isn’t your fault. Not in the slightest” you tried to reassure him. “But what about the ins? Maybe they have some rooms available?”

“They might have some rooms available, but the roads outside of the city is filled with monsters lately. It’s simply to dangerous for someone without a vision. And I take it that you don’t have any training in combat?” his voice was serious and his eyes intense.

“I see. I don’t have any combat skills” you sighed.

After a moment of silence Venti spoke up again. “What if you stay at my place? There’s space and I will sleep on the couch” he looked at you with something you recognised as hope. His large eyes glittered and the way the soft light from the sunset hit them made them absolutely breathtaking.

You were so in awe of his beauty that you almost forgot to answer him. “I would love to. Thank you very much Venti. I really hope it isn’t too much of a bother for you” you smiled at him with gratefulness.

“Not at all! Let’s get going before it gets too late.”

Venti’s home was in a apartment building in the livelier part of the city. His apartment was on the top floor (the fifth floor). The walls were covered in a pale green wallpaper with dandelion seeds motifs. It consisted of a bathroom, a bedroom with a queen bed, a open kitchen and living room, a closet and a balcony. The balcony overlooked a little stage with rows of chairs in front of it. Venti told you that it was a place where amateurs could preform, be it music or plays.

Venti led you to the kitchen which he began rummaging through the cabinets. “It’s late so I’ll cook us some dinner. It won’t take long.”

“Do you need any help?” you asked as your eyes trailed hai movements. Despite his human appearance, he moved like he belonged in the sky. His every movement was fluid and his movements looked like dancing steps.

“No. Sit back and relax. You’re my guest after all” he smirked.

You hummed at the delicious taste of the pasta bolognese. “Wow Venti! You’re a really great cook!”

“Thank you, though I’m only an amateur” he smiled as he took a bite himself.

The dining table was of light wood. It was cowered with a white table cloth with embroidered light blue flowers. A candlestick was lit in the middle of the table, creating a cozy feeling. At the end of the table were various note sheets which Venti had tried to hastily clean up when you first entered the apartment.

“How does one obtain a vision?” you asked as you took a sip of the dandelion wine he had poured in your glass.

“It’s a favour from the gods. Those that reside in Celestia. It’s a sing of great ambition. The anemo vision is given to those who value freedom in a great deal” he nodded towards his vision that were laying on top of the countertop.

“Ahhh I see. How many types of visions are there?”

“Seven. All the seven nations are the homes of different elements. Mondstadt as you know is the nation of anemo, Liyue is the nation of geo, Inazuma is electro, Sumeru is dendro, Natlan is pyro and Snezhnaya is cryo” he spinners his fork in some spaghetti before he lifted the fork to his mouth. “Each nation have their own archon, god if you will. The one in Mondstadt is called Barbatos.”

“I see” you nodded. “Quite fascinating.”

“Yeah, I guess you can indeed say that”. He noticed your empty plate. “I’ll go and clean the dishes, then I will make your bed” he rose form his seat and collect the empty dishes.

“I should help you” you stood up and carried the empty wine glasses to the sink.

“No it’s okay. You’re my guest” he said reassuringly.

Venti’s bookshelf’s were filled with various works of poetry, fiction, song lyrics and historical books. You ran your fingertips over their backs. Your fingers were coated in a light veil of dust. You took out a book on Mondstadt’s history out of the shelf. You sat down in the light teal sofa. A few strands of treads were sticking out of the seems, making it clear as day that this sofa was well loved.

Your eyes went to the kitchen were Venti was humming on a tune while he scrubbed a pot clean. His voice was angelic and you hoped you would be so lucky that you would be able to hear him sing sometime. Venti was so kind and welcoming. He had told you the history of Mondstadt as you had walked among the streets of the city. He had told you so much that you felt like you knew Mondstadt like one would with a childhood friend. Yet, you knew absolutely nothing about Venti. You knew of his profession and his love for dandelions and wine, but that was it.

Venti’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. “I’m finished” he stood in front of you on the soft rug. “It’s getting late, so maybe we should get some sleep. I have made your bed. Don’t worry, I changed the sheets too” he smiled. The sun from the sunset casted a warm light on Venti’s features. His eyes glittered more than ever before and he looked like someone straight out from a fairytale. He didn’t look human.

“Yes we should. Thank you Venti. Thank you for your hospitality. I’m extremely grateful” you smiled sweetly up at him.

He chuckled. You swore that you could see a faint blush that lightly dusted his cheeks.

Venti’s bed was comfortable and the duvet soft. You quickly drifted off into a deep slumber.

Your dreams were of wells and deep caves. You tried to walk up, but to no avail.

After a long night filled with night terrors, you finally woke up to bird chirping. Sunlight were shining through the white curtains, warming your skin.

You lazily sat up and stretched your limbs. You still felt helpless regarding your situation, but it was little you could do. At least at the moment.

You turned on the shower and let the warm water hit your skin. Venti’s soap had a slight smell of apples and you welcomed the faint fragrance.

After your shower you got dressed and went to the kitchen.

Venti was sitting by the kitchen table while reading a newspaper. His black brows furrowed in concentration. On the table were a basket of bread and strawberry jam and apple jam. He had poured two glasses of apple juice which looked refreshing. His eyes flickered up to meet yours. He smiled gently. “Good morning sleepyhead. Slept well?”

You took the seat opposite of him. “Good morning. Not really. I had a nightmare” you sighed. “But thanks again for staying here. I don’t know what I would have done if I couldn’t” you laughed slightly.

“Nightmares are an awful thing. Unfortunately I can’t seem to get rid of them myself” he smiled sadly before his expression changed into a jovial one. “You’re very much welcome.”

You two talked about everything and nothing while you ate. Venti was easy to talk to and you felt you could tell him everything. It was almost like you were compelled. It was a peculiar feeling.

“We need to get you some new clothes.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have any money…” you sighed. Your situation really was unfortunate.

“I will pay. Consider it a gift from me” he smiled.

“But you have already done so much for me. I feel guilty.”

“Please don’t. Believe me when I say that it’s my pleasure.”

“Okay. Thank you” you smiled at the bard.

He returned you smile. “I know of another outlander that is here in Mondstadt. I can introduce you to her. Maybe she will be able to help you with your predicament? And if not, you will have made a new friend. Friends is something you never can get too much off.”

Angle’s Share was rather empty given how early it was. Some patrons were playing a game of cards as the sipped on their beer steins.

The bartender by the counter greeted you as you entered. His hair as red as fresh blood, giving a stark contrast to his pale skin. He was handsome and you could easily understand why he was the bachelor of Mondstadt (that was Venti had told you on your way there). He grunted at the sight of Venti. “Here to pay your tab?” his voice deep and velvety.

Venti laughed awkwardly. “No, I’m actually showing my friend here around Mondstadt. Diluc this is [Name], [Name] this is Diluc” he gestured to each of you.

“Nice to meet you [Name]” the red head smiled.

“Nice to meet you as well Diluc” you smiled back.

“Oh by the way. Have you seen Lumine today?” the bard asked Diluc who was polishing a wineglass.

“She’s upstairs” his answer curt as he continued to work.

Venti nodded before he led you upstairs.

The second floor was empty save from a blond girl and a fairy-like creature that was floating beside her. The girl turned around and smiled when she saw Venti. The fairy followed her example. “Tone deaf bard!” she said she sage waved her little hand. Her voice was high pitched and nearly gave you a headache.

“Hello ladies” Venti playfully greeted. “This is [Name]. [Name] this is Lumine and Paimon. Lumine was the one who saved Mondstadt from the incident I told you about.”

“Nice to meet you. Though I couldn’t have done it on my own. I got help from friends” Lumine smiled. Her topaz coloured eyes shone in the sunlight that peered through the open window. “Why don’t you two take a seat?”

“Nice to meet you Lumine. I must say your strength, from what I have heard, is truly admirable” you smiled as you took a seat on the wooden bench. Venting followed suit and took a swipe at besides you. His knee brushed against yours as he made himself comfortable. You could smell his scent which smelled of fresh apples and wildflowers. It was a pleasant scent that suited him perfectly.

“You flatter me” Lumine smiled. “Should I order anything for you? Some dandelion wine? Or maybe some freshly pressed juice?”

“Dandelion for me if you would be so kind” Venti said. You could see his excitement from the mere mentioning of dandelion wine. His love for the wine was kinda cute.

“I would love some orange juice” you said.

Lumine nodded before she rose and ventured downstairs. The stairs creaked under her steps.

Paimon turned her gaze to you. “So, how did the two do you meet?” she tilted her head in a a childlike manner. Sparkles sparkled around her.

“We met at Windrise” Venti answered.

Paimon nodded. Her brows were furrowed in thought. She was about to say something more when Lumine came back with two glasses. One with orange juice and the other with dandelion wine.

You and Venti thanked her before you both took a sip. The orange juice was fresh and a little sweet, but not too sweet. You hummed in delight.

“So where did you two meet?” she asked as she took a sip of her half full glass of grape juice.

“Windrise” Paimon answered. Lumine shot her a look. “They told Paimon while you were ordering. Don’t send Paimon that look!” the little fairy stumped her feet in the air.

“Windrise… that’s quite far from the city. What were you doing out there?” the blond woman asked you.

At her question you froze. Venti noticed your hesitation. “She’s an outlander just like you Lumine.”

Lumine’s eyes widened. “Oh really? I have never met another outlander. How did you end up here in Teyvat?” her eyes curious.

“I am not too sure actually… I just woke up in a field of flowers by the oak tree” you fidgeted with your fingers.

“Ah… I see. I myself lost my brother. We were travelling from world to world before we ended up here. I am on a mission to find him again” her voice filled with determination. Lumine was a truly remarkable woman and you found yourself in awe at her. You wished you had her bravery. “Paimon here is my companion and guide” Paimon smiled wide at her words.

“Maybe you want to join our journey?” Paimon asked.

“Maybe… I am not too sure yet. I’m still trying to process everything” you smiled sheepishly.

Lumine nodded. “Understandable. We are gonna stay here in Mondstadt for a while before we go to Liyue.”

Your conversation with Lumine and Paimon was pleasant. Paimon had a lot to say and her eagerness was quite adorable. After a while you and Venti bid them goodbye as you headed two a boutique in search of some new clothes for you.

The boutique’s interior was pink and rather feminine. The walls were cowered in murals of pink flowerbeds. The owner was a sweet young woman who was quick to help you find something that suited you.

You ended up with a couple of different outfits and some underwear. You thanked Venti for his generosity. The bard only smiled gently. His eyes brimming with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

As the blue sky turned a pinkish colour you ventured up to the cathedral. The building was massive and you felt at its mercy as it towered over the city. In front of the cathedral stood a statue of Barbatos. The statue was tall and made of marble. It was clad in robes and it large wings on its back. His hands stretched out in a form of prayer. He had two twin braided on the said of his head. You admired the statue for a while. It looked familiar. There was no doubt about it. It looked an awfully a lot like Venti. You turned to look at the bard which who was staring out at the city. He was lost in thought and did not notice your staring.

“This statue is really beautiful” you said as you gazed up at its face.

Venti turned to face you. “Yeah… The sculptures did an excellent job.”

“The same goes for the cathedral. Its architecture is absolutely breathtaking. Do you often attended services in the cathedral?” you ask the dark haired man.

“I agree. The craftsman is extremely impressive”. He shook his head “I usually don’t, but I sometimes swing by. The organists are really talented.”

“I want to attend a service some time. Just to see how it is” you gazed up at the looming building.

“We can go together sometime” he looked at you softly.

The soft bed was welcoming after all you walking. You pulled the duvet over your shoulder as you burrowed your face into the pillow. Venti had insisted on you staying as long as you needed. He would take you to the Adventures Guild tomorrow in search of some jobs you could do in order to earn some Mora.

Sleep wrapped you in its warm embrace and you feel into a deep slumber. This time your dream was filled with cyan coloured eyes and white feathers.

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syrupfog · 8 months ago

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Luffy needs a place to crash over the summer because his straw hat crew are all going home or traveling abroad before the new semester starts in the fall. He puts it off to the last minute and ends up claiming a bed in an old half-double with a painted sign reading Polar Tang.

(Is half-double a local term lmao it’s when there’s a house that’s split down the middle into two full houses lmao)

Fourteen people live here, between three bedrooms on the second floor and two in the attic. It’s absolutely a fire code problem but Luffy’s never been one to care.

(He’s not a fireman YET— not until he can pass the exam).

Plus, rent is dirt cheap. 200/month and that includes house dinner once a week.

He moves in with just the duffel bag of clothes, his sleeping bag and his backpack. The guy who’s number he picked up off a telephone pole is the one who answers the door. He’s tall and wide and apologizes for everything; the screen door that’s missing a screen, fireplace that doesn’t work and instead holds all their shoes, the state of the kitchen (dishes are stacked on every surface including the floor).

Luffy feels right at home. Not home like Zoro and Sanji’s place, which is clean and always smells of rubber from Zoro’s dumbbells. Home like with Ace and Sabo in a place that wouldn’t pass a health inspection.

He grins as they continue on.

Bepo shows him through the bedrooms on the second floor (homemade bunk beds squeeze four to a room) and the tiniest bathroom with a window that looks directly into the neighbor’s shower (“he refuses to put up a curtain so we don’t either” says Bepo.) (“sorry”.)

Then up to the attic, with a sloped bedroom that three mattresses are squished in (two guys in funny hats are asleep on the floor between two mattresses), a second bathroom (“no one is allowed to use that toilet because Shachi’s credit card is wedged in it”), and another bedroom.

“You’ll be in here”, Bepo says, and Luffy can sense the sorry before he says it as he pushes the door open.

It’s tiny. The ceiling slopes down so low there’s really only three walls. The tallest wall has shelves mounted on it completely covered in action figures.

There’s two mattresses — one bare, one covered in books. And surrounded by stacks of books. And papers. And empty coffee mugs.

And a guy blearily blinking at the light they’re letting in from the hall. He’s buried between piles of books, his laptop perched on his knees.

“Your roommate!” Bepo squeaks. “Bye guys!”

He closes the door and slips (noisily) down the stairs.

“You look like a vampire,” Luffy says. The man looks like he’s never seen sunlight.

“I’m on a dual pre-med pre-law track,” the man scowls.

“Cool,” says Luffy.

He dumps his things on the bare mattress. “Robin says I’m a free spirit.”

The man blinks at him. “Don’t open the window or the raccoon will get in. The aircon doesn’t work in the attic. If you break my Sora figures you will die in your sleep. I’m Trafalgar Law.”

“Hi Traffy! I’m Monkey D Luffy,” says Luffy. He holds out his hand and Law hunches back before awkwardly shaking it.

Luffy flops back onto the mattress. It smells like frogs. “Hey Traffy,” he says after a moment. Law squints at him. “you seem like someone who would like urb— urban ex— someone who would like to break into buildings.” Luffy looks over at him with a grin. “Wanna explore the underground tunnels on campus?”

Law scowls. He’s hunched at a 90 degree angle over his papers and books and coffee. He looks murderous.

“…Yeah.” He says.

Luffy kicks his feet. “This will be a good summer,” he says.

(He learns quickly that coffee is the only food allowed in their room because of The Ants and The Flies and The Possum).

(He also learns to take the fall for Law whenever they get caught exploring since Law can’t have a record)

(Luffy does this gladly)

(They kiss in an abandoned hospital)

#lulaw #lawlu #my writing

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morsking · 12 days ago

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i don't know if i like "merry christmas to all" or "merry christmas, everyone" over the other because either one can say something different about an older kirei that's pretty funny. they're essentially the same phrase but the wording gives me a different impression. "merry christmas to all" is blunt, formal, the minimum you'd expect from a priest who makes people stiff in a variety of ways. but there's still that acknowledgement of the holidays. he usually spends all his time in the church. you don't remember if you've ever seen him outside of it, but he will partake this time, surely. he will wear a silly hat perhaps and have a sip of eggnog. his tall, imposing frame, deep voice, and distinct facial features make for quite the sight in the middle of the present-opening, the christmas carols, the luminous and colorful decorations. it's almost uncomfortable, you do not think a man like him would be so playful when he's usually so stern. you can't help but wonder if he's really at the age where he should be doing this kind of thing. but you remember the holidays are for everyone, so it is not his age that is inappropriate for this setting. no, there is something different out of place here. he has finished his round of karaoke. he is turning around. he is looking at you. "christ is born. look forward to the new year," he'd say with a smile curled in his mouth but absent in his eyes. he retreats within the church doors, closing them behind him. you wonder if you truly feel safe with him inside.

"merry christmas, everyone" however is jovial, so jovial and sincere it's quite out of character for a man who is otherwise bored or smug. he is being your funny uncle kirei and you want him to cut it out. and he knows this. which is why he will keep being your funny uncle kirei for the rest of the holidays. your parents have invited him over for dinner, they did not tell you this until a few minutes ago. he arrives, after some small talk dinner is served. you and him are the last people to leave the living room and head to the dining room. he puts his hand on your shoulder paternally "the salad is poison and no one will believe you," he says as you see your family sit down to eat. you don't know whether to pretend you misheard him or pass it off as a joke. his gaze, his smile, and his hand mercilessly deny you such a retreat. you sit down awkwardly. he sits down across from you. you stare at the salad nervously, its vibrant colors looking less like a meal and remind you more of a colorful frog that kills its predator when eaten. you decline an offer for it to be served on your plate. the salad is indeed poison, because once your parents have a taste one of them exclaims, "kotomine-san, this is so delicious i might die from 100 helpings!" and he'd respond with delight that his cooking is to their liking. your parents want more of his cooking. you fathom the salad might not be a literal poison, but your parents' reaction makes you think of an alternative equally unsettling: it is a mental poison, a tantalizing concoction that dulls the senses and enervates rationality. indeed, it is an accompaniment reflecting the indulgent mental state induced by the holidays. reckless, thoughtless consumption guided by the controlled pursuit of the delicious and the material. your parents, enthralled, will crave food made by kotomine kirei from now on. the salad was not poisoned, but this fact invites not relief. who can say he won't make something poisoned later? who will he serve that to, and when? the shared enthusiasm between your parents and the priest is the telltale sign of your defeat in a game you did not know you were playing, but that had started long before he rang on your doorbell. "the next festivities are not far off," he'd remind you. "do look forward to them anxiously." his steps as he walks away from your house are quiet, yet they echo cacophonously in your ears. "look forward to the next. and the next. and the next." he parts with a chuckle and a beaming smile. your parents are endeared. you, however, hope to move out by easter.

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disgustingtwitches · 4 months ago

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hello! <3 your writings are phenomenal, i’m so happy to have stumbled across your page 🙏. i have a little idea, but i suck at writing. feel free to ignore this request if they’re closed!!

but, i haven’t seen really any cod writings of a reader who’s moreso on the alternative side! like colored hair, decked out in piercings, tattoos etc., etc. i was wondering how you think the 141 boys (any one of them, or all!) would react to reader either piercing herself, dying her hair, or something along the sort? (safely, of course. we are prepped in this household.)

have a wonderful rest of your day/night! :3

Ok so when it comes to alt girls obviously Ghost and Soap have more exposure to them. So I'd like to think when it comes to certain things they'd be more comfortable with it. And I think all of the boys would help dye your hair!

Gaz- I've noticed guys who don't have tattoos or only have one will be OBSESSED with girls who have tattoos! He'll want to know the story and meaning behind each one (even the ones that are like...just a frog with a cowboy hat or some shit LMAO). Very insistent on keeping new piercings and tattoos clean! He'll be the one to clean piercings with salt water and remind you to put sunscreen on tattoos. He's very meticulous when it comes to help dying your hair. Wants you to use the best thing for your hair and makes sure you won't melt your hair with bleach!

"Don't use 40 vol please, it'll melt your hair...Don't use Splat, it's literally fabric dye babes..."

Buys colored conditioner to keep your color longer.

Price- He loves helping you DIY stuff, everything except tattoos and piercings. He thinks that's too much of a risk no matter how much you tell him you know what you're doing,

"If it's about the cost, I'll pay for it."

And he does. Makes sure to read the reviews for the place too. He stays away from dyes and bleach because the old man is sensitive to those smells :/ He offers to pay for that too but you're particular about your hair and he respects that.

Ghost- My man knows the alt scene through and through. He'll help you pierce anything but only because he thinks knows he can do better than you. He won't let you do stick and pokes unless you're using a proper tattoo needle and ink. He'll actually let you tattoo your initials on him and he'll tattoo his on you,

"Make sure you don't go too deep, that'll give me blowout alright?"

Soap- Wild boy Johnny will do any and everything. You want to pierce your own ear? He'll do it too! Matching ripped fishnet and jeans and colored hair and nails. He'll sew patches on your jacket and help you make your own pins. He's so crafty he LOVES to do things with his hands. Sometimes date night would just be staying inside drinking, listening to deathgrind, and DIYing clothes.

#love love this question #141 x you #141 x reader #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap MacTavish #john price #simon ghost x you #kyle gaz x reader #soap x reader #john price x reader #short stuff #asks #ask tag #imagines

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aclowntiny · 1 year ago

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A Date Like No Other- Basketball Player!Mingyu x Female!Reader (College AU)

Inspired by the famous tumblr post 😄 also I’m quite tempted to do a part 2 for this one if anyone is into that hehe

Word Count: 3600 | College AU, Basketball Player!Mingyu, Humor, Fluff | Warnings: drinking mentioned, one suggestive comment, one minor swear

He was the guy on campus everyone would have sold organs to go on a date with. The sports guy. The really tall guy. Handsome, plays on the school team, movie love interest guy.

You were the weird girl hardly anyone talked to, and you just liked him because he drew on your notes with you.

History was boring you- you’d already answered the questions and they read the pages out loud at a snail’s pace, sending your eyes diving into the pages lest you want to rip your hair out and coat your long thin institutional table in it. Saving that, you reached into your backpack and pulled out a green ultra fine marker, popping the cap. You reached over and doodled a frog sitting in his funny little amphibian hunch on one of the multitudinous papers strewn about the table before the guy sitting next to you glanced over, a huge smile spreading across his face before he suppressed laughter.

"I've been frogged!" That, of course, had him almost snorting in aborted amusement.

Wait...did that mean? "Oh, sorry, those were your notes, huh?" You asked in response, hand hitting your head lightly. "I got them mixed up, sorry for defacing your property. I can get you a new sheet if you were going to turn that in-"

"Nah," your neighbor, whose name was Mingyu if you remembered from roll call, held up a hand of both restraint and reassurance, "it's fine! I'm going to keep it. I love him. I think he needs a hat, though."

"Oh, I got it." This time, it was a brown marker you grabbed, quickly outlining and filling in a tiny cowboy hat for your creation. "There we go, how's that?"

This time, a full snort. "He looks handsome to me. What's his name?" Mingyu whispered as your professor drew a tad bit closer.

"Uh, Clint Eastwood?" You shrugged, having not exactly thought that far- in fact, not at all, the whole shindig starting at full zero thoughts, head empty.

"Well, I'll take him with me to every class I have," Mingyu replied, glancing fondly at the doodled frog before taking his pencil and drawing a fly between two pieces of bread, "and feed him, too."

At that, you exhaled a quietened laugh, smiling back as wide as he'd done.

"What? Wouldn't that be what a frog eats?"

You had to admit that it would be.

From that day on, you two added one or two things onto Clint Eastwood's page every class session. He had a top hat at the ready for dressing up, a little garden of flowers, a very badly drawn horse to ride, a soccer ball to play with, and a plate of the takeout Mingyu had just really wanted that day. You didn't even know what his major was. Maybe it was just sports. Could one go to school for simply basketball? Who knew? You guys didn't really talk, just drew and whispered and laughed about your froggy little world. Either way, to your simultaneous amusement and annoyance you found yourself really able to see the hype behind the legendary Kim Mingyu. For all the popularity, he was a good guy. And you know what, he was cute. But, like, heart cute. The face cute was just a bonus.

"Hey (y/n), do you ever go to any games? I've never seen you at one," Mingyu mused as you strode out of class, backpacks loose over your shoulders.

"Well," you paused, letting your expression be cut by a half-joking, half-serious wince, "no offense, but I'm not a huge sports person? So I haven't gone because I don't have anyone to go with and it hasn't seemed worth the money. Not because of the game, just because of how much they charge for the ticke-”

"Hey, don’t worry, I get it," he laughed, "well, my little sister could use someone to go with, and the ticket would be on me. I save on buying them for myself because, well, you know."

"You're too busy slamming dunks or whatever it is basketball players do," you supplied.

"Depends on your position," Mingyu just chucklef in response, pushing the big silvery-painted fire exit-esque handle of the history building's double doors open.

"Basketball has positions?" You burst out incredulously, squinting both in confusion and at the onslaught of sunlight assaulting your eyes as you emerged past the threshold.

Another laugh. "Come and find out."

The game was made more fun by knowing a player- it gave you something to care about as your eyes followed Mingyu's run along the smooth floors, the way he leapt to toss the ball to some guy just as tall or even taller than him. He really played with passion, passion and a clear sense of fun if his remarks on the court were any indication. His sister was pretty cool, too. She looked like a fashion model straight out of Seoul, but she was fun and sassy, not afraid to tease her big brother about the shot he missed when he ran up and greeted you at the sidelines or shoot a questioning look between you two as you told him to do it for Clint Eastwood, whom Mingyu replied was his good luck charm before shuffling back off on sneakers that squeaked against the floor.

Even though you didn't actually hang out with him the whole time, just at celebratory victory ice cream after, you came to history lecture the next session feeling closer to Mingyu, and he must have felt the same as he started talking to you instantly. You rarely initiated conversation, but always welcomed it.

He thanked you for coming to the game as if he hadn’t paid for it, then asked what your major was. You told him and bounced the question back. Turns out it was business, not sports. That history lecture was just GE you both had to get out of the way. The most interesting history lessons to you weren't generic national history or war maps, but all the odd sideline stuff like how some people believed huffing toilets might have helped them during the Black Plague.

"They what?" Mingyu asked, eyes widening and mouth agape as class commenced.

Maybe that was why people didn't really talk to you.

Such reflection was inaccurate, however, as you mindlessly doodled a ridiculous-looking bug-eyed dog on the now-shared note paper and Mingyu chuckled and gave it a collar, smiling when your glance upward met his eyes.

The moment you rose from your seat after lecture, notebook shoved back into your backpack and pencil case into one of the side water bottle holsters or whatever they were called, Mingyu started talking to you again, this time about how glad he was that he didn't join a fraternity like his teammate Johnny.

"Yeah, because see, this one guy just got so drunk he didn’t know where his car was and his girlfriend lost her nose ring, then another guy was sick and they threw him outside and he woke up in the cold locked out of the house, and the houses stink, too, like they smell so bad…”

"Yeah," you muttered, taking each of your bag straps in your hands this walk, palms sliding over the rough fabric, "dude, you couldn't pay me to live in one of those."

“…they’re practically taking after those Black Plague people!” He joked, bringing a smile to both your faces as he mimed taking a sniff, waving his hands in front of his nose and bursting into laughter.

“Except they should know better,” you added, shaking your head in amusement, “they need to get smart like you and I.”

He didn’t laugh, just nodded in approval. "Right? And everyone there has already hooked up with each other. I'm so tired of all that, too. That's not the kind of date I've been looking for, you know?”

In a sense, you did not know, being that none of your classmates had even hardly made conversation let alone a risqué pass, but you got it. Being as popular as Mingyu was, you’d seen how fellow students threw themselves at him sometimes. Had to get uncomfortable, especially if his facial expression at a few of them said anything. They weren’t usually very original, either, poor guy. He was just a clear end goal, and someone who loved his sister and his little drawings and celebrated with ice cream as often as cocktails and laughed at toilets didn’t deserve that. Mingyu wasn’t an ideal, he was a real person. Someone who just needed to have some damn fun for once.

“Sure. You need some- no, you deserve some- creativity. If it was up to me, I’d take you on a date like no other,” you joked, chuckling as your gaze rose back up to his eyes.

“You would?” At the sight of Mingyu’s eyes widening, you wondered if your phrasing had inadvertently crossed a line. Sure, you were totally willing, but- “Alright, just name a time.”

“Wait, really?” This time it was your turn to gape, one hand dropping off your backpack strap to fall to your side. Your heart picked up its pace. Never in a googolplex of years would you have thought Mr. It Boy K. Basketball would want a date with you. Being his friend was surprising enough.

“Yeah, of course. I think it’d be fun,” Mingyu beamed at you, “and I trust you. My sister likes you, too. If…if you really meant it, that is.” He added that last bit as his own gaze dropped and one hand reached up to rub the back of his neck.

Giggling shyly at his sudden sheepishness as well as the situation’s sheer absurdity, you tilted your head his way, smile melting back out of the shock. “Well, thanks, that actually…really means a lot. Get ready for an epic time, then!”

He cocked a brow, turning down between a row of potted trees toward the food court. “Have something in mind already?”

Actually, you did have something you always wanted to do if you could get someone else- it would look too weird to be the only one. Why not do it with Mingyu?

“Be afraid,” you nodded, smirking in satisfaction.

“Well then, how should I dress?”

“Just casual is fine,” you shrugged and teased, “we can’t all afford black tie, Mr. Business Major.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, still giving that wide smile you’d come to anticipate seeing, “Friday night?”

“Friday night,” you repeated.

“Get ready for Friday Night Showdown!”

“Um, (y/n), this is the grocery store.”

Your lips turned upward proudly as you rotated from a fist pump into a Vanna White pose before the mart. “I know.”

“Are we…” Mingyu paused, clearly searching for words. “Fighting in here or something?”

“We are not,” you replied cryptically, looking all the more satisfied as you passed between the automatic doors, Mingyu at your side.

“Am I doing your shopping?” He looked at you with still-raised eyebrows, though amusement colored his expression.

“That would be messed up!” You denied, shaking your head. “Though admittedly funny.”

“Don’t get any ideas for date two!”

Your heart flipped at Mingyu’s easy smile, how casually he said that…the way he flushed and looked away the moment the words left his mouth. He was already thinking of your next date? Hope he likes seafood, you internally joked.

“Yeah, no shopping tonight unless you wanted some snacks. Because tonight,” you skipped over all the central aisles of kitchen supplies, soap, and dry goods, making a beeline for the meat section… well, more specifically the fish counter, “is all about the face-off.”

In a split second you caught Mingyu’s eyes dart down once more past rows of cans, bottles, jars of just about every color you could ask for, dancing over their numerical markers as if to say farewell to actual shopping. Then, his gaze was back on you, your gestures, over your shoulder to the tank at the end of the fish counter. The tank full of lobsters with big claws and small patience. His eyes met yours again. He knew. You could see it.

You nodded. “Oh yeah. Pick your champion.”

He twisted his cap around backwards, revealing his face, those big, innocent brown eyes, once more. “Uh, quick question: how do you suggest I keep mine straight from the others?”

He was asking in earnest. That was another thing you liked about Mingyu: not only did he possess childlike wonder beyond what somebody in his age and station in life probably should, he was also a bad liar in the purest, kindest of senses. He really, truly, had never had a grocery store lobster beatdown date, and he couldn’t fake interest if he tried. So now he wanted tips, advice you could give him as if you had already had loads of grocery store lobster beatdown dates. All you could do was smile back at the tall basketball player and every small kindness he’d shown you thus far. The way he’d simply seen you.

“Good question. Don’t they have different colored wristbands?”

He arched a brow, clearly fighting a snicker. “Different what?”

Pantomiming a band with one hand grabbing the other, you stuttered. “You know, the… the claw restraints! The wristbands!”

“I don’t think they have wrists, (y/n),” Mingyu teased, reaching over and ruffling your hair.

Well, of course you realize this means war. “Alright, you are on,” was all you said, eyes narrowing.

He perked up at that. “What’s the bet?”

“Winner gets to pick the next activity,” you reply, sauntering a few steps closer to the lobster tank and pointing to one with a purple band over its claws that was clearly ready to throw- well, for lack of better terminology- hands, “and I choose this one.”

“Well, in that case,” Mingyu returned to your side, arm pressed against yours as he peered into the tank, “the logical choice would be to pick the one in red in front of yours. May the best crustacean win.”

And at that, his competitive stare melted back into that boyish look as he turned to you. “…did that sound cool?”

It almost came out as a snort, you burst out laughing so violently. “That was legendary,” was all you could wheeze out.

“Ha ha! I can’t believe it!” Mingyu grinned and bobbed up from his bent tank stare like an excited puppy, pumping the fist that wasn’t holding the mart beer can he’d bought as his lobster shoved yours away in victory.

The pair of crustaceans had been locked in claw-to-claw combat, tussling very slowly over nothing in particular but their proximal frustrations, and Mingyu’s had apparently vented harder, shoving yours back after some aggressive minutes. Mingyu had gotten into the fight, nudging you when something extra exciting happened and even providing commentary on sideline fights between sips.

First drawing a fly sandwich, then that. Truly, who'd've thunk?

“Neither can I," you mock-pouted, crossing your arms, "purple always wins."

"Says who?" Asked Mingyu, who leaned down closer to you, face mere inches from yours.

"Says me," you shrugged, feeling warmth spread across your face.

"Well, you know what?"

You could feel warmth of his breath ghosting faintly over your cheeks, your lips. "Wh- what?"

"As much as I enjoy a good bar," he leaned back a bit, clapping, "I did need something else. Something new. This was fun! Wanna go play basketball in the park? I bet we'll have the court to ourselves!"

There it was again. The reason everyone liked him. Movie love interest vibes, even beneath the oddly-tinted fluorescent lights of commerce. A smile like a boy on the body of a man. Probably not something they usually imagined to see over a lobster tank. Over hoops in the park, though? That tracked, even if it was a bit of a one-eighty from his breath fanning your face.

Beside any of that, he had won the right to choose.

"Sure," you smile, "let's keep your winning streak up."

And with a hand clasped around yours, that athletic strength was tugging you out the grocery store door to a rush of evening wind and the sound of mutual laughter.

Basketball really was that man’s passion. Just about the only thing about it you knew about the sport was what a slam dunk was, but what different shots scored different points? You wanted to throw a three-pointer, but what was a three-pointer?

You learned what it was, what an assist was, that elbowing was illegal or something like that because every game had a reason to send the players to sports jail like grown-up cops and robbers.

You got the ball in the basket twice with no help, and that was achievement enough. Mingyu had ran across the court to high-five you both times as if you’d just won him a game. When you messed up the angle of another throw, he got behind you and, trying your best to focus with his chest flush against your back, you tried again and sent the ball sailing without the betrayal of the previous throw’s dramatic arc.

“So can we give Clint Eastwood a basketball now too?” Mingyu asked out of the blue, dropping to the concrete at your side, legs crossing and knees brushing.

“What,” you chuckled, “do you have him with you or something?”

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled a small white square out and unfolded it to reveal the piece of lined notebook paper with margins full of marker and pencil scratch, most notably your hatted frog friend. He kept those notes in his pocket?

With the one not holding Clint, he ran a hand through his short black hair. “I do like to have him with me,” he answered with a tentative smile.

You twisted slightly, feeling your spine pop from its prior exertion, and remembered his words from the basketball game as he’d visited your seat, making you laugh with a failed attempt at spinning the ball on his finger. “As a good luck charm?”

He shook his head. “I think we’ve added something almost every time we’ve been together. He’s like a log of all the memories we share.” With that, he scooched closer to your side, his jacket falling over the folds of your own clothes slightly. “And I like our memories, Frog Girl.”

What could you say to that? “Frog Girl?” You just giggled, eyes on his.

“That’s right,” Mingyu nodded, “I can’t believe I would never have talked to you if you hadn’t drawn a frog.”

“Ah, college,” you sighed, tilting your head, “the golden years, and yet it’s so easy to ignore everyone else.”

“Well, no longer,” Mingyu shot back, gaze honing in on…well, you weren’t sure, but you liked it, “I figured out what I want to do with my victory wish.”

You smiled at the phrase ‘victory wish’, a term that was just so him. “I thought that was this.” For emphasis, you waved a hand along the court, feeling the night breeze that much more on the skin of your palm.

“Nope,” he shook his head, smirking as his eyes fell back on yours, “I didn’t say I was using it then, I just asked if you wanted to come out here and you said yes."

Well, coat you in flour and call you a biscuit. "You evil genius, you." At that, you gave a grin and a shake of your own head, unable to resist feeling a bit impressed. Man plays games, he picks up some strategy. You'd have to remember that.

"I prefer to think of myself as a nice genius," Mingyu said, and then, switching tones completely, doing another one-eighty to one sweet enough to make your heart swell, he continued, "and about my wish: can I kiss you? I can't think of a better way to end Friday Night Showdown."

Deathly afraid of saying something stupid, you answered by shifting from your crossed legs, folding them to the side as you sat up, knee resting slightly on the edge of his leg as you pressed your lips to his. The slick of his sports jacket between your fingers felt cool as you gripped it to hold both yourself and Mingyu in place as he surged forward into you. For his speed, his eagerness, his kiss was surprisingly soft, not digging too deep but just firmly holding you, treasuring you as if the feeling of your lips was about to fade. Oh, buddy, I'm not going anywhere, you murmured in your head against the feeling of his ever-so-slightly chapped lips.

And as he pulled away, separation painfully slow, deliberate, Mingyu looked you dead in the eyes, blinked at the sudden return of hazy park streetlight, and said “Wow.”

You nodded. “Wow.” Can’t believe how well those lobsters worked, you wanted to say. "You're full of surprises, Mr. Basketball."

“Mr. Basketball,” he mused, gaze briefly drifting from yours, then back. “I wasn’t sure you were going to be that into me, being so funny and smart and artistic and stuff, but I just couldn’t help myself. And boy am I glad for that,” he grinned.

For that, all you could do was kiss him again.

No more hoops were shot that night, only words tossed out with new glee as you, now wrapped in Mingyu’s jacket, pointed out lesser-known constellations, like the Dutch giraffe one or the Poop Deck. After all, you had a reputation to keep up on that date, and everyone had already seen the Big Dipper.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x female reader #female reader #college au #humor #fluff #let me know if y'all are into part 2 I have Ideas™ lmao

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afyrian · 6 months ago

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ch. 6 - don’t worry, it’ll be perfect m.list

you finish weighing the last block of clay for your last class of the day. slowly, you push it against the table, trying to loosen it up some. a pair of earbuds rest in your ears, like the movies by laufey replaying for the fifth time that day. you hum along to the lyrics, the slight vibration playing along your lips.

swaying slightly to the song, you toss it back onto the wooden block, trying once more to knead it into submission. especially if you have students who have never touched a pottery wheel in their life. their foreign attitude towards the craft only enhancing if you were to have them wedge their own clay.

you bite your lip, grab the little ball of clay and feel it in your hand. it's soft, malleable, the air pockets finally pushed out. setting it next to the other ones, you take a line of saran wrap and lay it over them, trapping the moisture. resting your hands on your hips, you lean into the song, playing once more. closing your eyes, you take in a deep breath.

turning towards the front wall, you open your eyes to check the time. accept all you see is osamu standing in your door frame, hands awkwardly stuffed into his pockets. you slowly reach up and pull the earbuds from your ears, grasping at a spot on the chord that has dried streaks of clay on it. "hi," you stare at him.

you hadn't seen him since he burned your dinner. sure you've seen him around, a little hello when getting deliveries, or as you walk to your car. but you haven't actually seen him. let alone with a casual shirt on with a pair of jeans. however, his onigiri miya hat still rests carefully on his head, the streaks of grey being overtaken by his natural black.

"hey," he smiles, wider than he likely meant to.

there was something about the way you stood in front of him. how a ray of evening sunlight trickles through the window, landing on the clay and underglaze that coats your apron. he stands there, staring right back at you like you're more beautiful now than ever before.

"hi," you say once more, setting your earbuds and phone down on the table. the air is thick with tension, gaze unable to meet the other's, "uh, so what brings you to the earthen kiln during the dinner rush?"

osamu takes a step in, letting the door slowly close behind him, hand outstretched so it doesn't slam. pursing his lips, he looks down at his feet, "my brother signed us up for your class.. which let me just say, he's a handful and i apologize in advance. he even paid with my credit card and then didn't say anything until afterwards."

"but i am still excited, just not for you to meet him yet," osamu shakes his head, looking up at you with his nose crinkled, lip turned up in a snarl.

the word 'yet' sends your mind spiraling. you stand there with a frog in your throat thinking of what he meant by it. yet makes you think of the family-meeting era of a blooming relationship. how someone would invite their partner over, eagerly apologizing for their lack of boundaries or respect.

it sends a flutter under your skin, a wire in your brain frying. "i think i'll be okay," you finally muster up a sentence, trying to ignore the increasingly hot feeling you have in your face, "plus you guys could've asked, i would've given..."

your voice trails off as osamu receives a phone call, a rhythmic tone playing. it’s sweet, attuned to his personality. he grabs out his phone, rolling his eyes as he looks at the screen. bringing it up to his ear, he gives you a look of sympathy, like he can already tell what the person’s going to say.

“hi ‘tsumu, where are you?” osamu starts, trying to keep his posture straight, although a vein is practically popping out of his forehead, “you can’t come? you’re seriously visiting kita and his girlfriend? the one out in the country? so no one else is coming? okay okay, yeah, thanks a lot.”

turning off his phone, he lets out a sigh, eyebrows furrowing. turning to look at you, he has a sympathetic expression on his face. “i’m so sorry about my brother, but it seems all the spots taken for tonight will not be filled.. because apparently they’re all out by someone’s farm. i mean i’m still here..”

you shrug, pursing your lips, “well, you’ve already paid for it, which i apologize for. but today’s been really long and i’d love to go home early. how about next weekend, private lesson? i have nothing going on saturday and so i can give you all the ins and outs of pottery making.”

“private lesson?”

“yeah, just as an apology for the pay going on your card,” you lean against your table, crossing your ankles, “plus then i guess i’ll be able to meet your brother later, whenever you’d like.”

osamu’s breath catches in his throat, unable to bring himself to say something. you stand so confident, despite the seemingly exhausted state you’re in. he feels a little jealous as he feels like his knees are made of jelly and his hands are a water slide. “that’d be nice,” it comes out hoarser than he expected, taking a step towards you, “maybe i can bring lunch, as my own apology.”

“lunch would be perfect, how about, until then, you take this,” you walk over to your shelves of pottery, grabbing out a mug that resembles an ice cream cone, “had an extra from a custard place i did some work for. just as a ‘no more apologies’ kind of thing.”

“well i guess this meal i make will have to be perfect.”

“don’t worry, if you’re making it, i know it’ll be perfect.”

a/n: osamu’s DOWN BAD and i love him for it <33 might pull a @nectardaddy and just have mbb go on forever AND read ‘88 ford to meet kita’s country gf ;) taglist: @causenessus @osakis-gf @eggyrocks @brkfclub @marisabel14

@bbybibi @etoiile @miyamoratsumuu @girlokarina @gsyche

@cherrypieyourface @zephestia @acowboykisser @whosmarjj @gumiiiiezzzz

@guitarstringed-scars @19calicos @savemebrazilhinata @phoenix-eclipses @theycallmenanamisgirl

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfic #hq fanfic #hq #hq x reader #☼༄ my bisque beau #hq osamu #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya #haikyuu osamu #miya osamu #osamu miya fluff #hq osamu miya

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mrsrookhunt · 2 years ago

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Petit Chasseur

Rook Hunt x Reader

Synopsis: In crewel's class, the task at hand is to transform a tadpole into a frog with a transformation potion, so how is it that you and Rook happened to transform your tadpole into a baby...?

Warnings: None, but MC is apparently a third year because I accidentally wrote for Rook being part of Potionology instead of the Science club and got way too far in before I realized it. This is how you and Rook started a family and lived happily ever after

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"Ah-? You say that's the right ingredient, but I assure you it was--"

"Too late!" You laughed, dropping a sprig of pine into the mixture, which had previously been just the right consistency and color.

It bubbled and smelled of sickly rotten flowers.

Rook gave an theatrical sigh. "Mon tricksteur, that was the last of our ingredients.. We were already warned that we shall not be supplied with more."

You frowned at the textbook. It didn't give you the list of ingredients, which Professor Crewel had listed at the beginning of the lesson. Still, you were certain it called for a sprig of pine. But the cauldron should have been filled with a light, sticky substance, and instead it was filled with something so gooey, Rook was having trouble stirring it the appropriate amount of paces.

"Hmm... what'd you think it was supposed to be, Rook?"

"It was two drops of liquid silver."

"Damn, are you totally sure?"

He gestured to the mixtures of the rest of the class, which bore a much closer resemblance to the intended result.

"Oui. If not, the whole class, myself included, must have had a mass hallucination."

"Aww..." You face palmed. "How do we fix this?" You asked out of exasperation, hoping he had a better answer.

"No ingredient that comes mind is in our possession. We shall have to turn it in as it is, sadly."

He stopped stirring and ladled it into a vial.

"Isolate a tadpole for me, s'il te plaît ."

"Yeah, but what's it gonna do?"

He laughed and shrugged. "We'll see."

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"It's two drops over the tadpole--"

"one, Two, THREE, there we go-- oh. Um. Two?"

Rook snickered. "Remind me never to partner with you again, Mon Tricksteur."

The tadpole stopped moving.

"Is it... dead?" You asked, as you watched in horror over the poor thing, layed out on a tray in shallow water.

"Hmm. Perhaps three drops was too much? Our potion had all the components for a basic transformation potion, the sprig shouldn't have affected it's transformative properties, only the outcome, so--"

The tadpole shivered as if coming back to life; Its flesh began to ripple with different colors and shapes as it mutated into a large, multicolored creature.

"Uhh--- Rook, that seems a little uhmmm, BIG FOR A FROG---"

You knocked Rook into the ground in your attempt to back up, taking the tray and the undulating creature down with you, to your horror.

You braced yourself for contact with the squishy thing, and felt something heavy hit your lap.

Rook picked it up swiftly before you even opened your eyes.

"Mon dieu! I've never seen such a thing."

You opened one of your tightly shut eyes to see a Rook staring in reverent awe at a tiny, cute baby bearing resemblance to him.

"What? What IS THAT---"

"Don't yell, you'll upset the poor thing. And would you look at that? It looks a bit like you too, doesn't it?"

The baby cooed as Rook brought it to his chest with one arm, holding it gently, while the baby outstretched its tiny little arms in your direction.

He put the baby against your crossed arms.

"The baby wants your touch," He said softly, watching as the baby nuzzled against your arm.

"Nuh-uh, no way, that is NOT a baby--"

"Transformation potions are thorough. The baby is, in fact, a baby."

"Still, I don't want to touch it, it's creepy--- why does it look like us??"

Rook took the feather from his cast-aside hat to tickle the baby with.

"If I had to take a guess, I'd say perhaps it was the third drop. The little nourrisson took on the appearance of you and I because we were the first to touch it. It fell on both of us at the same time."

"S-so now what do we do?" You reluctantly touched the baby, who was cuter than you'd like to admit.

"Tell the professor and let him sort the matter out."

He turned over the baby to you as he went to get the professor.

You held the infant, which cooed and fussed like a normal human baby, but looked eerily like you and Rook, bearing his rich blonde hair and green eyes, but your chin and cheekbones, and even the way your hair naturally parted.

You gave up your fingers to the child, who was fascinated by them.

You saw Rook speaking to the professor, but your attention was diverted back to the baby, who had begun crying when you focused on something else.

You shushed it gently.

"It's alright, little one.. we'll get this ironed out."

Bleary green eyes stared back at you as if to say, 'You better.'

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"It's permanent."

"You're kidding--"

You were already back at the Ramshackle dorm, feeding the baby with formula you'd had to beg and plead for Sam to find on such short notice.

"Non, I'm afraid not. The Professor looked extensively. There is no cure to this."

"So what do we do then? We can't just... keep it!"

Rook dropped down to the ground to tickle the baby, who was lying on a soft blanket.

"I think that we must. It's our responsibility, and the baby is biologically ours, so--"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE BABY IS BIOLOGICALLY OURS?"

Your heart was racing out of your chest. What does this even mean for the two of you? You've always liked Rook, but not enough to throw yourself into raising a child with him-!

"You're shouting again, Mon Tricksteur. Oui, the baby is biologically ours, since it shares the equal traits of us both. We shall have to raise our dear infant."

Rook was on his knees beside you, amusing the baby with funny expressions and little exclamations of wonder.

Where would you go? You couldn't take care of a baby in a world you weren't familiar with, in which you had no one and nothing. Nothing but Rook, who had quite the full family of his own. Would they even accept this? Would they even like you?

Not even to speak of the challenges of raising a child, especially while going to school. Outside of your free-time, where would you even find the time to raise a baby?

Rook planted a kiss on your forehead, chuckling lightly.

"You're too nervous, my dear. You need to find the heart of passion, and throw yourself to the wind. I see it written across your face-- but there's no need to worry. I'm here for you."

You picked up the baby, cradling the small little bundle while Rook rested his arm across your back, taking in the scene. You were a family now. You were parents, so suddenly, so absolutely by surprise. And yet, as you were starting to warm up to the sweet child, you realized just how lucky you were to have Rook by your side, and a baby to love with him.

"Ah~ Mon Amour and my petit chasseur~"

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French vocabulary that I definitely did not get from Google translate:

s'il te plaît: please

Mon dieu: my god

nourrisson: infant/baby

Petit chasseur : Little hunter

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-June 28th, 2023

-Kaori

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