#he really only seems to have acquaintances and we don't really know what kind of a friend circle he has. or if he has one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purplecoffee13 · 7 days

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i'm always feral for mmf threesomes when i'm ovulating. maybe y/n and her boyfriend pick harry up at a bar?

First of all, thank you for the request!🥰

Second of all, I feel like I should do something along the lines of apologize for writing this piece of absolute filth, and I would…

except I do not have an ounce of regret, so I will just say, enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT, threesome (mmf), bimbofication (a bit), possessiveness, jealousy, degradation,

Wc: 2.2k

If you had asked yourself earlier today how tonight would end, you would have guessed a lot of things, except for the actual situation you found yourself in right now.

Being fucked by your boyfriend, Aaron, and your old college crush, Harry.

You'd visited to your college city for a couple of days with Aaron to attend the wedding of a friend of yours who you'd met in college. It was there that you ran into Harry. Back when you were in college, you had a massive crush on him. You almost kissed once, but unfortunately nothing ever truly happened.

Aaron and Harry were apparently friends in college, you'd learned upon chit chatting with both of them, and they had stayed acquainted over the years, but really only on social media.

Harry still had that exact charm that you fell for in the first place. It was like time had stood still for him, as if no environment would ever affect the charisma that made him shine like a rare diamond in a sea of dull rocks.

You were lying to herself if you said you didn't feel that flutter in her belly as he spoke in that low voice and hot accent, or didn't feel the blood rushing to your cheeks when he flashed you that signature grin of his. He still had it. Dammit.

When he proposed to meet up at a bar on the last night you and Aaron were here, you hadn't thought that much of it. It seemed like fun.

And it was, it really was.

You talked, you drank, talked some more and drank more. You still have no idea when the conversation turned sexual, but you were sure it was somewhere after your question to Harry about whether he had a partner or not.

"No, I'm single." He'd said, and chuckled when you nodded slowly. "Don't take pity on me, I have plenty of fun."

"Yeah? Player. What kind of fun, hmm?" Aaron had asked teasingly, an arm draped around your shoulder. Harry shrugged.

"Oh you know, the usual. One night stands, threesomes..."

"Threesomes are the usual for you?" You'd asked, leaning forward a bit as a frown painting your face. The man in front of you only hummed, biting the inside of his cheek at the sight of your curiosity.

"Yeah, they are."

"So what, you just always have two people on speed dial for that?" You were aware that you were coming across a bit nosy, but you didn't care, you were intrigued.

"It's mainly couples I do it with, actually."

"Couples?" Aaron piped up.

"Yeah, they ask me to join. 'S pretty nice. Never have to worry about hurting someone's feelings, since they're already involved with each other, y’know?”

His answer was met with hums coming from both you and Aaron, and you’d thought, that was that. This part of the conversation was over, and it was now to be steered into another direction. That was until your boyfriend said something that made the hairs on your neck rise up.

“What would you think about having a threesome with us?”

It was solely because of the sheer shock that had taken over your body that you didn’t gasp aloud, and by the time you’d had some time to let his words sink in, a heated tension had already settled in your lower stomach that kept you from getting mad at your boyfriend for suggesting this out of the blue. Harry’s voice caught you off guard.

“You would want that, the both of you?” He asked, and you turned your head to look at him. His eyes were fixated on you, but the enlarged pupils and the unspoken words that had been hanging between the two of you since you met each other in college told you Harry wanted this, badly. That look alone made you swallow before nodding your head.

“Y— yeah, we’d want to.” You said, not daring to take your eyes off him. “Would you?”

His mouth curled up into a grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Harry had really taken that invitation as a challenge. You could vouch for that, because he was currently eating you out like it was a competition and the goal was to make you come as fast as you could. His skilled tongue licked at you like his life depended on it and the pressure he brought to your clit was indescribable.

You would've moaned out his name when he punched his clit, but your mouth with occupied with your boyfriend's cock, which he drove into you over and over, fucking your mouth.

The sensation was incredible. Aaron was hitting the back of your throat, something you knew was bringing him to his orgasm quicker. He loved sticking all of his dick inside your mouth, watching you choke on it as you sputtered for air.

When you felt that he was really close, you took your mouth from his cock and voiced your needs. Or, tried to, at least.

"I— I want to be fucked. I want someone inside me, please." You asked politely, trying not to let your sentence get swallowed by all the moans you were fighting from escaping your lips as Harry continued to eat you out as if you were a five course meal. He took his lips off of you, smirking as he looked over to your boyfriend, raising his brow.

"You're the boyfriend. What do you say, has she deserved it?" He asked, getting up, both men now towering over you. Aaron pushed you back onto the bed, and Harry spread your legs before they both leaned back to observe you.

"She sure wants it." Aaron lowered his gaze to your glistening pussy, muscles flexing as he crossed his arms. "Don't know if she deserves it, though."

"She's so greedy, isn't she? Has she always been like this?" Harry grinned as he took in your body, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. Your breathing picked up with each second that neither of them were touching you.

"Oh yeah, she can be a real slut for it. Can't you, baby?" Aaron asked you, and you nodded your head, not caring that they were talking like this about you. In fact, you loved it. It was so hot to have them speak about you in such a demeaning tone, it onlymade the tension in your belly grow.

"Yes, I'm a slut for it. Please, fuck me." You begged. The anticipation crawled at your skin as you watched the two men look at each other for a couple seconds. It was the simple raise of Harry's brow that had your stomach flip, as it was followed by Aaron positioning himself in front of you and ramming his cock inside your wet cunt.

You shrieked at the force with which he entered you, shutting your eyes and not noticing that Harry had sat himself next to you until he began playing with your breasts. You shivered when he brought his lips to your ears.

"Such a dirty girl, you are. Never would've guessed it back in college." You could hear the amusement dripping in his tone as his hand lowered further and further until he reached your clit. You clenched your walls as he began toying with it, earning a groan from Aaron.

"Look at you, taking your boyfriends' cock so well." He turned to Aaron. "Fuck man, you taught her well. She’s just laying there and taking it like it's her only option."

You whined as Harry pinched your clit, like he had before. Your legs began to tremble at the amount of sensations that were happening at the same time. You knew you were getting closer to your climax.

"She loves it." Aaron groaned, driving into your harder and making your eyes roll into the back of your head as he hit that toe curling spot.

"I can see that..." Harry hummed. "Are you going to come for him sweetheart? You gonna drench his cock?"

"F— fuck, yes! Yes! I'm so close!" You cried out, and Harry's fingers began circling on your clit faster at the sound of your proclamation.

"C'mon then, come for us." He growled, before closing in on your ear again and whispering softly: "If only I had known you were such a dirty girl, I would have fucked you much sooner."

A long, pornographic moan bellowed through the room as you convulsed around Aaron's cock, clenching around him over and over until Aaron himself was groaning and coming inside you as well. It felt good to be filled up with his seed, despite the fact that you had just mainly orgasmed because of another man's words.

Aaron stilled inside you for a couple of seconds, the both of you recovering from your intense orgasms. He slowly began to pull out, and you couldn't help but pout at the feeling of emptiness. Aaron smiled at you.

"You can fuck her too, if you want. Can tell she wants to be filled up all the way." Your boyfriend offered to Harry, who nodded as he got up from the bed. Aaron got in Harry's position, whispering in your ear.

"And when I'm hard again, I'll paint that pretty face of yours." He kissed your cheek, which heatened at that promise.

"You really don't mind if I fuck her?" Harry asked, just to be sure. He wanted to avoid any awkward moments. Aaron nodded.

"Yeah. I've always been a bit voyeuristic, and I've been wanting to try this for a while." He explained, looking at you as he stroked your hair. You nodded in confirmation. Aaron had told you about that kink of his. He loved watching you get off.

"Alright." Harry looked at you. "Are you okay with it as well?"

"Yes, I am." You smiled at the man in front of you.

"Would you like me to play into it a bit?" Harry asked Aaron carefully. After your boyfriend told him he could, a wicked grin appeared on Harry's face.

Without another word, he pushed his dick into you. Your eyes widened, and you bit your lip to keep yourself from yelling too loudly. Harry was big. Of course, you'd seen that, but you hadn't really calculated how thick he actually was. He stretched you out with every inch that sank into you, and you could almost feel yourself getting dizzy as a result of it. It was so much. Aaron sat back and began stroking his already semi hard cock.

"Fuck, aren't you a good little whore? So obedient, even when your boyfriend lets another man fuck you." He thrusted himself in and out of you lazily, building up his pace. It was a bit unfamiliar to you; Aaron would start roughly and get a bit more sloppy and slow towards the end.

"Ye— oh... oh!" The words that you meant to say faded as Harry's long strokes became harsher, knocking the wind out of you with each rigorous thrust.

"But you like it. Love to be filled all the way, like your boyfriend said? One man's seed is just not enough for you, is it?" He began to pick up the speed. His fingers were back circling your clit like before. You nodded your head furiously and looked to the side, seeing your boyfriend rub himself off with his hand as he watched the scene between you and Harry. He looked so entranced, so aroused by it all; he was loving it.

Harry took his hand off your clit and placed both his hands on either side of your head, leaning over you as he began to fuck into you deeper and harder. You felt like his cock might split you in two if he went on for long enough, if he didn’t split the bed in two before that.

"Now I'm gonna come inside you soon baby," Harry said so lowly that Aaron couldn't hear. You looked to your boyfriend, who looked to be having the time of his life watching you get railed by someone else. "and when I do, I want you to savor every fucking second of my cum coating your tight walls."

You bit your lip, keeping your eyes on Aaron as Harry murmured into your ear.

"I want you to remember how good this feels. Remember it at night when you lay next to him… remember how you could have this— have me every night."

Harry didn't even give you time to process what he said, leaning back and gesturing for Aaron to come closer, instructing him to come all over your face like he said he would.

That's when Harry began to jackhammer into you. It was as if nothing was holding him back now. You weren't physically able to take your eyes off the man fucking you. You moaned and cried and whined until you felt liquid painting your face. Aaron's pained groan made you flick your eyes to your boyfriend, and when they traveled back to Harry, the lazy grin on his face took you out.

The feeling of your second orgasm was out of this world, and you felt like you were being thrown into space the second you felt Harry's hot cum spurting into you. The sound of Harry's own groan had you gushing around him like this was the first time you'd come in months.

It was so filthy that the circumstances around it had made you so worked up, but you couldn't care less as you rode out that euphoric high on Harry's cock, sight half blurry because of some of Aaron's seed that had spilled over your eyes.

Your ears were still ringing, Harry’s words racing through your head, when your boyfriend said:

“Well, that was fun.”

I REGRET NOTHING

199 notes · View notes

inherdaze · 7 months

Text

jungle — kiyoomi sakusa

kiyoomi x f reader

18+ content, pining, slow burn, sakusa wears dog tags mmm, smut, acquaintances to lovers. kind of a historical au? (think 1930s) idk bro it's like all made up. mentions of pregnancy

summary: kiyoomi seeks serenity after coming home from war.

There’s lots of commotion outside. Hollering, cheering, squeals and shouts paired with the sight of lovers reuniting, families coming together, men picking up their children and spinning them around in the air. You watch from the kitchen window as you wipe down the dishes, see some people carelessly pick the flowers from your yard to bunch up and give to wives, children, husbands, the like. Normally, you’d scold them for being so careless and probably offer a pair of garden trimmers so that they wouldn't crush the surrounding flowers, but you let it pass. Everyone is happy. The war is over.

Your mother watches as she stands next to you, handing you over the dishes to dry once she’s finished washing them clean. She looks at you from the corner of her eye, gouging out your reaction before clearing her throat.

“Do you remember Kiyoomi?”

You freeze for a second, plate and rag in hand as you try to think. “Mm. No?”

“The Sakusa family?”

“Oh,” And then you start again, rubbing the plate dry. You don’t really remember the boy, only that your mother was friends with his mother and that apparently the two of you played around as young children. You don't remember the last time you saw him. Probably couldn’t even point him out in a crowd.

“He’s coming home.”

“From the war?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like me to gather some flowers for him? There’s plenty in the backyard, too. None of the crushed ones.”

She sighs before placing the plate she held back into the sink, turning to face you entirely.

She says your name softly. “He’s coming home. Here.”

“Why? For dinner?”

“No– well, yes– but he’ll be staying here. With us.”

You slowly put out the plate face down on the long countertop cloth to let it air dry. “Since when?”

“We’ve been exchanging letters.”

Ah. You had been wondering what that was about. Each time the mail came in, your mother would scurry to get it before you could, holding it to her chest protectively before gently slicing it open in the study, purposely keeping it from you. You thought she had been exchanging letters with some sort of admirer, so to speak. You thought she’d be afraid to tell you she’s moving on after years of your father’s death.

She continues, “His parents passed a while back– they both fell ill while he was away. He just needs somewhere to stay in the meantime so he can get back up on his feet. I'm sure there are plenty of other families that would be more than happy to host a soldier, but I suppose he would feel more comfortable here. I mentioned the garden and the chickens and he said he’d help you out with those. Don’t let him, though.”

“Huh? Why not?”

Your mother lightly swats your arm and gives a quiet scold of your name, “He isn't here to work. He’s here to rest. He’s been through a lot, you know. Just let him be while he’s here.”

You roll your eyes. Your mother can tell that you're not really annoyed.

“He seems very reserved in the letters we exchanged. If he’s formal with you, insist that he don’t be. We are friends of his. Make him feel comfortable, okay?”

You hum and nod. “Okay.”

There’s a pause.

“When will he be here?”

Your mother nearly answers before you've even finished asking.

“Tomorrow.”

You’re an early bird. Even when you don’t want to be, you must. You have to tend to the chickens in the morning, tidy up and make breakfast for your mother before she goes out to the market to sell the eggs.

The morning dew that sits atop the grass kisses at your shins as you trudge towards the coop, face lit by the oncoming sunrise. The sky shifts from deep blue to a lighter blue to purples and pinks until the sun finally reaches the top of the sky.

As you get closer to the coop, you hear the familiar and pesky repetitive clucks, appreciative that the coop is farther out into the yard and not by your window.

You slide the coop door open, stepping to the side as they rush out with curiosity.

“Mornin’ kids,” You start before emptying out their dirty water, tossing it into the grass before turning on the hose to fill up the bin.

You replace the water, give them more food, collect the eggs that are deemed ready, and hang out with them for a good thirty minutes to make sure they’re healthy and roaming around like normal. You sit on the grass, knees to your chest as you absentmindedly say hi to them when they pass by or stare at you.

Once the sun has almost fully risen, you grab the basket of eggs and make your way back into the house, slipping out of your boots before stepping inside.

The morning goes as always; Your mother wakes up, thanks you for handling the chickens, thanks you as you place her breakfast on the table, gathers all the eggs she needs to sell, and kisses your cheek before she heads out to the market.

“Kiyoomi should be here later, once I’m already home. Please make sure the spare bedroom is clean, with fresh sheets. If he happens to arrive early, be nice.”

“God, don’t act like I’m insufferable! I won’t drive him out.”

She smiles knowingly. “I know, my dear.”

She looks like she wants to say more, but swiftly turns on her heel and takes her leave.

The rest of the day is spent cleaning up the spare bedroom to make sure it’s nice and welcoming for when your new guest arrives. You smooth out all the bed linen and wipe down the dressers, making all photo frames and little trinkets look presentable. It doesn't take long for you to set it all up– the bedroom has always been very empty. You wonder how it'll look like when it’s more lived-in, with boots and coats and whatever else he may carry laying around.

You slip into the kitchen and wash your hands, preparing to make lunch. With the curtains on the kitchen window drawn shut, you fail to see the man that climbs up your porch steps, eyes downcast as he raps his knuckles on the door a few times.

You freeze in your spot almost violently. It’s much too early for him to be here, and when you glance at the clock on the wall, you’re convinced that it has to be someone else– perhaps the neighbor?

Drying your hands on the apron tied to your dress, you draw back the kitchen curtain to get a little peep.

You almost squeal as you back away from the window, covering your face with your hands like you’ve just seen something you weren't supposed to– but you had just seen him. He was… big. That’s all you could think.

When you open the front door, the two of you stare at each other, silent.

Yes, he’s big. Broad shoulders, gifted with height, and his chest seems…. inviting in the military uniform he wears. You finally make eye contact with him, scanning over his handsome features, the two little beauty marks that rest atop his eyebrow, the pretty curve of his lips—

“Hello,” He says with an air of formality, and you clutch at the skirt of your dress.

“Hi… hi.”

He stares at you blankly.

“I, ah— come in, Kiyoomi,” You start, standing to the side as he takes off his boots and leaves them by the door, following diligently as you lead him to his room. He doesn’t even spare a glance to look around the house, eyes trained on your back.

“Here,” You say, opening the door to his room. “The bathroom is down the hall, my room is right there– right across, and my mother’s room is the farthest one down the hallway. There’s a, um, study if you'd ever like to read or spend some time in there. Do as you like,” You explain gently, a warm smile on your features. “I was just making lunch. Are you hungry? Would you like some?”

“No thank you,” He says immediately, looking down at you. “Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Of course! My mother should be here in a few hours. For now, the house is all yours– er, ours, but– well, yeah, yours…” You trail off with embarrassment, looking into his eyes for help, hoping he’ll finish your sentence or laugh it off with you.

He doesn't.

As soon as you back away and start walking back to the kitchen, he shuts the door softly and coupes himself up in there.

You frown to yourself, remembering your mother’s words. He seems very reserved, let him be, he’s been through a lot.

You do just that, careful to not make any noise as you prepare lunch, then sit by yourself at the table to eat. There’s a light clink and clatter of the dishes as you wash them, but you can only hope he doesn’t mind.

Noon turns into night and you’re still alone. You haven’t heard Kiyoomi leave the room or rummage around at all. It’s like he never even arrived.

You’re not surprised when your mother comes home and deems the house empty (besides you being there) and exclaims that the both of you must rush and start working on dinner because Kiyoomi deserves nothing but the best. You feel your skin prickle hot for some reason. She wasn’t wrong, but if Kiyoomi had heard her say it, it sounded like she was one of those old ladies who desperately fawn over younger men. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.

You laughed nervously and bumped her hip with yours, quietly telling her that he had already arrived.

She gasps dramatically, hand flying to her heart as she scolds you.

“Why didn’t you invite him out here to sit with you? Has he eaten lunch? Did you offer him lunch? Goodness, my dear, this is no way to host someone. Ask him to step out! Did you show him around the house, at least? Oh, heavens– did you change the sheets?”

Your ears feel terrifyingly warm, knowing very well that your mother was loud enough for Kiyoomi to hear her through closed doors. Just thinking of him overhearing you get scolded made you want to scuffle away and complain in embarrassment to the chickens.

“My apologies, miss.”

The both of you whirl around to see Kiyoomi, who looks absolutely delightful, you think.

His curls are mussed as if he had been sleeping, uniform ditched for a skimpy white undershirt tucked into some slacks, the planes of his chest peeking out and greeting you handsomely. The dog tags that are strung along the chain around his neck glint in the kitchen light, almost like they’re saying Hi. “It’s not her fault, I assure you– I had turned down her offer for lunch, and I just wanted some time to myself after arriving. No hard feelings at all.”

He speaks in such a collected and calm manner, and his face and eyes look empty. He’s good at containing all his emotions.

“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, a wistful smile creeping onto her face. “Oh, my lovely Kiyoomi!” She rushes towards him and cups his face, smushing his cheeks in her hands, beaming up at him. The action makes his eyes widen, hands immediately flying up to push hers away, but he stops himself just in time and lets them fall back to his sides.

“How you’ve grown! My goodness, it’s been ages, my love, please– please sit down, we’ll make some soup, okay? Just rest. Tell us, how have you been? Any good stories?”

She greets him like a mother would, and for a second, you think you see his features relax. Not wanting to get caught ogling at him, you turn and face the cutting board, lining up all the vegetables needed for the soup.

The two talk the entire time, your mother silently leaving the task of cooking up to you. You don’t mind at all, keeping your back to the both of them to hide the look of shyness on your face. Every time Kiyoomi speaks, you feel your hands stutter.

The conversation is mostly your mother gushing over him and how much he’s grown, telling him he’s such a handsome young man, asking him how his trip over here went, and then she asks him if there is a woman in his life. You know that it would be normal for him to feel a little flabbergasted from such a question, but you don’t know why you feel so embarrassed as well.

You figure it’s because if he says he does have a special someone in his life, your mother would turn around and berate you (in front of him) for not being ‘out there’ enough and for not seeing someone already.

To your surprise, he weakly mentions that no, he doesn’t have anyone like that in his life. He quickly excuses it by saying that he had been too busy during the war to worry about such things.

Your mother laughs good-naturedly, flailing her hand around, “Oh, of course. Silly me!”

By the time your mother opens her mouth to tell him that there are plenty of riveting people around town that he may like, you announce with your back still facing them, “Soup’s ready.”

You serve your mother and Kiyoomi, keeping your head down as you approach him and place his bowl on the table. He thanks you in a quiet, rumbly voice that makes you go completely still for a split second.

Conversation dies down as the three of you eat. Your mother has pulled out as much as she can from Kiyoomi. He avoided a lot of questions about the war, about his experiences, about what he saw. You can’t help but wonder.

Your mother interrupts the silence as she subtly turns to face you.

“How are the vegetables doing?”

“Growing,” Is all you respond as you stuff another spoonful of soup into your mouth. She’s grasping at straws to not let the atmosphere turn awkward.

You figure that if Kiyoomi is going to be staying here, may as well be casual, treat him like anyone else (despite the fact that he looks like he came down straight from Heaven).

You shift in your chair, the wood creaking. “Tomorrow, could you buy some more flower seeds from the market? You can pick which. I need to fill in the spaces that were crushed yesterday from all the people.”

Her eyes light up, “Of course, dearie. Thank you for reminding me.”

The two of you talk about mundane things for the rest of dinner, topics you usually discuss. Kiyoomi finds it comforting. Makes him feel more at home.

The next morning, you rise before the sun kisses the sky, as always.

You pull on the short linen clothing you use for working, old stains of mud and grass forever tainting the articles. As quietly as you can, you pad around the house before reaching the back porch, tugging on your work boots before stepping into the fresh morning grass.

Unbeknownst to you, Kiyoomi is also an early riser, a habit that he has cultivated over years of training. He watches you from the backyard’s dutch door, the top half open. He rests his elbows on the bottom half and leans forward, watching and listening as you greet and coo at the chickens like they’re your children. His eyebrows twitch up when he hears you reprimand one– Stop putting grass in the water, Harold!

After you dump out the water, you pick up the water bucket and take it over to the pump, working the water into it. With your back turned to Kiyoomi, you don’t hear as he steps through the grass towards you.

“Good morning,” He greets politely, and you yelp.

Whirling around with the half-full bucket in hand, the water flies out and crashes right into him, soaking his torso and the entirety of his pants.

You drop the bucket.

“Oh my gosh– oh, Kiyoomi— I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry, oh my goodness– I didn’t– I’m so sorry—”

You're petting his torso worriedly, as if your hands will soak up all the water that has been spilled. He knows you have good intentions and are just trying to help somehow get the water to dry, but your touch makes him stiffen.

You’re repeating that you're sorry, and the more that you ramble on, the more he can hear the tremor in your voice as you squeak and swallow and try to push this upcoming embarrassment down. Kiyoomi lifts his hands and places them right on your arms, completely stilling you. “It's fine.”

It comes out clipped, like it's not really fine, but you can’t tell if he's annoyed. His face remains stoic.

“I’m so sorry,” You whisper.

“It's okay. You weren't aware that I was here. I understand.”

You look over him again, the bottom half of his cotton shirt soaked and his pants clinging onto his legs like paint. You’re so embarrassed and ashamed that you can't even find it in yourself to admire him.

“You’ll– you’ll get sick. Let’s go inside,” You plead, stepping away from his touch and gathering your skirt in your hands to run back into the house, hastily kicking off your boots before prying the bottom half of the door open.

He watches you scurry around the house to make him some tea, pouring water into the kettle and sorrowfully letting him know it’s gonna take a few minutes. You advise that he changes but don’t push it on him too much, not wanting to be over controlling.

He disappears into the room and shuts the door, and you plop onto the dining table chair. Resting your head in your hands, you mentally chastise yourself for messing up like this, and on the first day that he's been here, too.

The kettle whistles. You pick yourself up to see Kiyoomi already looking at you, in a pair of clean clothes. Embarrassment crawls up your spine.

“I’m sorry.” You say again, turning to silence the kettle and pour the water into a mug before adding a few loose tea leaves.

“I’ve already forgiven you.”

“I know, I know but– I’m really sorry.”

He only sighs. You take that as a sign he’s frustrated.

“I’m stepping back outside,” You say, “Still have to get stuff done.”

He nods stiffly. You walk with your tail between your legs to the backyard porch, putting on your boots and this time shutting both halves of the dutch door.

You confide and whine to the chickens as you clean up and spread out their food.

Despite the incident, Kiyoomi insists that he help you out in the mornings. He follows you out to the back porch and manages to slip past the threshold before you can shut the bottom half of the dutch door to trap him inside (he can always just open the door and walk by, but you tell him it’s the prospect of trapping him inside that matters the most. His eyebrow twitches at that).

He lingers as you talk to the chickens, which you do quietly now that you know that he’s there. He pretends to look away when you tell Harold good morning.

When you finish saying your greetings to the birds, you tell him to go back inside. This is your job only and he should take this time to rest or get some extra hours of sleep– but he insists. He tells you he can’t sleep for any longer, he’s spent years rising early and getting straight to work and if he were to lay in bed he’d just lay restless.

You know your mother will scold you later, but you offer him some work to do anyway. You tell him to replace the water while you give them fresh food. And he does so gladly, falling into a rhythm with you that, if a stranger looked at the scene, would convince them that he belongs here and always has.

There’s this sort of look of serenity on his face, like he’s content to be doing something rather than staying in the house (which is what your mother has been pressuring him to do).

The rising sun kisses his face, reminding you of his beauty. His skin practically glows and you can’t help but let your eyes linger on the moles on his forehead.

In this kind of lighting, you see faded scars on his hands and arms, earned from hardwork and fighting and war and other things you cannot even imagine. They make him seem gruff (more than he already is) and in a way, scary. But the way he handles the chickens and the land and the water with such a tender touch tells you otherwise. For a brief second, you wonder if he would hold you with such care as well. You shoo the thought away.

Kiyoomi stays with you while you watch over the chickens. He stands while you sit on the grass.

“Talk to them,” You encourage.

He lifts an eyebrow. “And what should I say?”

“Ask them how they are.”

Kiyoomi clears his throat and looks at one of the chickens, “My… My dear Harold,” He starts, “I hope you are in good health.”

You laugh, “So formal, Sakusa.”

He finds himself humming. Humming. Humming in amusement.

When you're done with the chickens, you tell him he can go back inside and relax while you check up on all the vegetables, but he tells you he wants to help with that too.

You untie your apron and start checking on and picking the ripe vegetables, bundling them in the cloth. Kiyoomi, truthfully, seems a little lost as he handles pulling out the vegetables and leafy greens with a sort of hesitance as if he’s afraid to hurt them. You scoot over closer to him and offer some help.

“They won’t cry in agony, Kiyoomi.”

“I–” He starts, embarrassed. “You mistake me.”

“How so?”

He doesn’t answer, runs out of excuses. Suddenly Kiyoomi thinks the sun feels warmer when your hands brush over his own to guide him, encouraging him to pluck at the vegetables. He gets the hang of it, bundling up all the produce in your apron before the two of you make your way back inside.

When your mother sees the both of you step in, kicking off your boots and hands stained with dirt, she tsks at you.

“I specifically told you not to ask for any help.”

Embarrassment blooms in the depths of your chest. Getting scolded in front of Kiyoomi will be the death of you. You want to defend yourself but you don’t want to throw him under the bus, either. You hold the bundle of vegetables and greens closer to your chest, almost protectively.

“She did no such thing,” Kiyoomi interjects before your mother can continue. He stands tall, seems bigger, voice collected but strong enough to cause the both of you to jump. It’s been ages since you and your mother have been in the presence of someone as powerful as Kiyoomi.

He visibly slackens, clears his throat. “She didn’t ask for my help– told me to go inside, actually. I took it upon myself to help her.”

“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, tone suddenly sweet and forgiving. “I see.”

The silence that rests between the three of you could pierce your ears. You skitter into the kitchen to wash all that you’ve collected and leave your mom and Kiyoomi alone. In a matter of seconds, she’s already cooing at him and telling him that there’s no need for him to be working, it’s fine if he wants to rest inside, there’s plenty of time for him to spend his days off. He’s silent in response.

After you make breakfast and your mother leaves for the market, you gather all the dishes and make a beeline for the sink, pouring hot water over the dishes to scrub them clean.

Kiyoomi follows up behind you, rolling up the sleeves of his cotton shirt, bunching it up right above his elbows. You watch as he leans forward to grab a washcloth, swallowing when you see his dog tags swing low as he dips down. They clink back onto his chest when he stands upright.

“Thank you,” He says suddenly, eyes focused on the plate in his hands as he wipes it in a circular motion.

“What for? I should be the one thanking you, Kiyoomi. You defended me in front of my mother.”

He takes a second to formulate what he wants to say. “I must thank you for letting me work with you. I know your mother has good intentions, and I appreciate that she insists I rest.”

You tilt your head up at him, silently asking if he will continue.

Kiyoomi, unbeknownst to you, is facing an internal battle with himself. Years of being in war and surrounded by men who believe vulnerability is weakness often leaves him staying quiet in moments where he wishes to speak. He mulls over what he wants to say again, wondering if you’d laugh him off and tell him to not be silly. But he knows that you sense something is up, your eyes taking on a glimmer of understanding and kindness before you look down at your plate. “I won’t force it out of you, Kiyoomi.”

He looks at you affectionately, but you miss it as you stack the plate on the counter.

“Well, since you’re practically pleading me to share my thoughts, I’ll tell you.”

That makes you laugh. You laugh a gentle little laugh, and Kiyoomi has to turn back and face the dishes so that he doesn’t lose his thoughts.

“Your mother, I… I know she means no harm. I know that she may believe that I need rest and time and some sort of recuperation period. I don’t mean to be rude, but she… it feels as if she is doing worse than good, for me.”

You nearly freeze on the spot, worried about what he’ll say next. You’re scared that you and your mother have ruined his whole stay.

Kiyoomi breathes out your name, “I assure you that I am not a wounded dog that must be left alone to rest and sleep the pain away. I want to live a normal life, now. I’ve faced enough estrangement in the war. Please, allow me to work and live with you just as anyone else would.”

It’s a simple, simple request. A simple request that would have anyone cheering and clapping and showing him to the damaged flowers in the front yard and putting him right to work. It’s a simple request that makes your heart clench and twist in the caverns of your chest, knowing that he wants to live a life of normality and serenity. Knowing that he has opened up to you about being shunned away. It makes you feel trusted, and in a way, sought out.

You’re silent for a beat too long and Kiyoomi looks like he wants to scrub away all the words he just said with the way he resumes at washing his plate. As you set another one to dry, you tell him calmly, to prevent the feeling of pity arising in the air, “Of course, Kiyoomi.”

The corners of his lips twitch up when you tell him the bushes out front need to be trimmed.

You tell your mother of Kiyoomi’s request that same night, and she scoffs and frowns and throws a little fit before she caves. She initially insists that you only give him light work, but eats up her words at the glower you throw her way.

He helps you trim the bushes, the weeds, helps you with the vegetables and the chickens and watches eagerly as you prepare food so that he can take on that task later on.

You stir the soup around in the pot, sprinkling in some herbs and seasonings to add some more flavor. He asks you how much you use, you tell him you just know in your heart when to stop. When the kitchen falls quiet, you pick on him and teasingly ask, And how should you cook? And he answers, suppressing a laugh and an eye roll, With love.

You peer down into the pot.

“Okay. Kiyoomi, I am trusting you to deem it ready. Have a taste. The fate of this dinner falls on you.”

He bites his cheek at your dramatics.

You bring the ladle up to his lips and Kiyoomi has to lean forward a little to meet you halfway. You press the spoon to his lips and he lets the liquid in, his eyes locked on yours as he takes a sip. You feel small in some invigorating, exciting way.

He pulls away to think about the taste. “A little more rosemary.”

You eye him carefully but take his word, dipping the ladle back into the pot and sprinkling in a few more leaves. After a few stirs, you scoop the liquid back into the spoon and hold it up to him again.

He leans forward without being told, almost eager to have you press it to his mouth. Again, he keeps his eyes trained on your face as he has a taste.

When you pull the ladle away, he remains close to you, face inches away from your own.

Your fingers twitch.

“Yes,” He breathes out, your lashes flutter. “It’s ready. Made with love.”

You can’t tell if your mind is playing tricks on you, but he seems to be inching closer and closer, your grip tightening on the end of the ladle as you start freezing up, debating whether or not to shut your eyes.

You watch as his pretty eyes close, and with your heart leaping and palms sweating around the ladle from nervousness and the heat that remains in the small space between you two, you let your eyes slip shut.

You know it– you know it, it’s coming, his lips right against yours, you think you can already taste him—

“I’ve arrived early!”

The both of you jump backwards and the ladle collides with the floor.

“S-Sorry,” You whisper to Kiyoomi, picking up the ladle and tossing it in the sink before grabbing a different one off the kitchen rack. His shoulders sag and you think you hear him sigh, but he composes himself quickly as your mother makes her way into the kitchen.

She sees the two of you in front of the soup pot and beams, missing how stiff the both of you look and how you’re wiping your sweaty hands on your apron.

“Teaching Kiyoomi how to cook? Good! Good good, more men should partake in household chores. I cannot wait to taste how Kiyoomi’s soup comes out, should he cook for us soon.”

He nods curtly, watching as you dip the new ladle into the liquid. You look shaken up, movements jagged and nervous, and he fears he’s done something terribly wrong.

“Did you teach him the most fundamental lesson in cooking, dearie?”

At that, a smile slips onto your face.

“Yes. Cook with love.”

When the three of you eat dinner together, Kiyoomi mulls over the fact that it was made with love. Your love. He wants to eat so much that he feels full of your affections. He wants so much of it that he cannot help but decline anyone else who offers food, because he’ll be full of your love.

You two never bring up the almost-kiss. Kiyoomi is scared that he’s pushed a boundary and you’re scared that you misread the situation– so the two of you remain silent and try to fall back into the familiar pattern of days, the rhythm you two share.

The tension is nearly unbearable when the two of you are less than two feet apart. It almost hurts. It hurts Kiyoomi to look at you so longingly and you never notice. It hurts you when you try to scoot a little closer and all he does is move away. You think it's because he's disgusted with you. He just wants you to feel comfortable.

Days pass and the both of you pack the incident up and back away into the furthest crevice in your minds. Everything seems alright again– you both talk to the chickens, trim the flowers and cook dinner by each other's side.

You’re preparing to cook and pull your apron off the hook rack that’s nailed right by the kitchen entrance. Kiyoomi watches as you slip it on and watches when you huff in frustration as you try to reach behind yourself and tie it off. Your arms start getting sore from the awkward position they've been in, the apron straps unraveling again and again in protest. You’re about to let the damn thing flail loose until you hear Kiyoomi clear his throat behind you.

“Let me help.”

Your cheeks burn.

He delicately takes the straps into his hands, making the base knot against your back and pulling it. “Is that good?”

It’s a little loose.

“Tighter, please.”

He pulls. It’s almost like you’re drawn backward, nearly knocking into his chest. He starts tying up a little bow and you feel the brush of his fingers against the small of your back, shivers running up your spine and shoulders. You have to hold yourself back from twitching.

“There,” He says, taking a step back and admiring his handiwork. He keeps his eyes trained on the bow, tries to hold himself back from drinking in your entire figure.

It’s oddly domestic, intimate. It has you drifting off in thought, has you confirming all your wonders about his touch that had crowded your mind ever since that day when you saw him pull out the vegetables. He is gentle. You can only hope that the softness of his touch is a testament to his feelings (more specifically, his feelings about you).

You cough. You make it awkward. You thank him in a quiet, choked up voice before gathering all the pots needed for dinner before scrambling away to start on the food. Kiyoomi thinks he made you uneasy and this time, stands farther away from you when you show him how to prepare the food. Your heart aches at the same time as his. Both of you are back to square one.

The following days are painfully repetitive. It’s a cycle of the two of you falling back into place, and then your hands brush his, or you catch him staring, or you lean in too close to him, and then the both of you are creating more distance and relapsing into silence and copious amounts of space.

On this particular night, the two of you are sitting far apart, him on the rocking chair with an open book, and you on the other side of the living room, pressed into the far corner of the couch, embroidery hoop in hand.

You could trick yourself into thinking that there’s a sense of peace that blankets the two of you, a scene of quiet comfort and domesticity before there’s a dull knock on the door.

You both freeze. You’re the first one to get up to go check, and Kiyoomi is a little too late in his reaction as he tries to tell you that he’ll get it, a weird sense of protectiveness overcoming him.

The door is already open and the air is knocked out of your lungs.

Before you stands a tall, handsome man, brown hair slightly disheveled, a smile growing as he looks down at you. He is very attractive. But not as charming as Kiyoomi, a voice in your head whispers.

“Well, well, well,” He starts, leaning onto the door frame. “Didn’t know Omi was staying with a pretty little lady.”

“Miya,” You hear from behind you, nearly jumping as your skin burns hot knowing there are two striking men trapping you.

“Ah! My old friend!” The man cheers, his eyes searching yours for approval to step inside. Without any hesitation, you grant him access, slowly backpedaling into Kiyoomi’s chest with a squeak before he moves out of the way, the two of you letting the man inside (much to Kiyoomi’s dismay).

“Miya,” Kiyoomi starts again, gaze hardened. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t be like that, my good friend,” The man, Miya, repeats. “Hurts when you address me by last name.”

Kiyomi doesn’t retort. He won’t play into the man’s tricks of beating around the bush.

Finally, he fesses up.

“Bo and Shoyo and I are going to meet up at the pub in a bit, thought you’d like to come along.”

You see Kiyoomi make a face.

“I have suffered enough from your presence over the last few years. Please do not try to rope me back into your antics.”

“Omi!” The grown man whines, face falling before he remembers that you’re standing there. Slowly, his face shifts into a wicked smile, and Kiyoomi’s frown deepens.

“Ah ah ah,” He starts, dipping down and leaning in closer as if he’s examining you. “I know why you’re so adamant about staying. Find yourself a pretty little wife?”

The both of you choke.

You’re about to protest, but Kiyoomi is pushing Miya out the door, effectively letting you hide behind the broad expanse of his back, but you peek out from behind him to see what’s happening.

“If I– If I go with you this time, will you swear to not come back?”

“Don’t be like that, Omi.”

“Miya.”

“Just say Atsumu! And fine! I won’t visit after this. Won’t steal your pretty lady away.”

“You are unbearable.”

Your cheeks feel hot as Kiyoomi turns around to face you, face irritated.

“I’ll be on my way. I should be back before it gets too dark out. Please stay safe.”

You give him a meek goodbye as you watch him pull his coat from the rack next to the door and slide it on, watch closely as he threads his arms through the sleeves, watch as the article fits snugly against his form, watch as he again proves that he is a sight for sore eyes.

After you shut and lock the door, you rush to the kitchen window to get a peek at the both of them descending the porch stairs, watch as Atsumu laughs and hangs close to Kiyoomi as the latter tries again and again to maintain the space between them and throws unimpressed looks his way.

When your mother comes home, you tell her Kiyoomi went out with his friends. She smiles and thanks the heavens, happy that he’s finally getting out there. She tells you she hopes he finds someone he may like while he’s out.

You only hum in response.

Hours pass and Kiyoomi is still out. You and your mother have already eaten dinner and she’s already fast asleep. You’re already in your nightgown and tired of waiting around.

You step outside and stand by the chicken coop. You watch them sleep and some of them scatter around and you talk to them as if you’re sending wishes to the universe. Tell them you hope Kiyoomi is okay. Tell them you hope he gets home safe.

As soon as you’re stepping back inside the house, there are drunken laughs and weak knocks at the front door. Not wanting to seem too excited, you take a few deep breaths to pass time before you hear that Miya boy holler out a muffled Pretty lady, come and get him! Which is nearly cut off by a familiar groan. Kiyoomi throws some swear words around.

You open the door and find that the two of them were using it as support as they nearly fall into you. Atsumu catches you before you can trip on your own feet and fall backward.

“Hi,” He breathes out into your face, and you have to hold back from scrunching your nose. He smells of liquor but his steady arms keep you rooted in place, his physique nearly swallowing you whole.

“Hello,” You start, hyper aware of how you look and if you have any blemishes on your face and how close the two of you are, but before you can think of anything else to find a flaw in, Atsumu is pulled back by Kiyoomi.

“Stop terrorizing my host,” Kiyoomi hiccups out, trying his hardest to remain stern and imposing, but his friend only laughs brightly.

Atsumu slurs out your name, “You must know,” He starts, leaning his arm on the door frame, trying to pose coolly. “Omi mentioned you an awful lot tonight. Think he might have taken a—”

“Miya.”

“Yes, my most beloved Omi,” Atsumu professes, cheeks pink and dewy from all the alcohol. “I’ll leave you two be.”

He clumsily spins on his heel, trips on his way down the steps, and crushes another flower bush.

Your eyes flash with pain and Kiyoomi shuts the door before you can see Atsumu trip into anything else. He’s rather good at composing himself, straightening his face and posture as he looks at you.

“Would you like some dinner?”

“Yes, please.”

You find out soon that Kiyoomi is mouthy when he’s drunk. After you reheat what was left over from dinner and slide the plate towards him, he asks that you sit down with him. His face flashes with disappointment when you sit across from him instead of right by his side.

In his drunken state, he spills all that he’s kept inside without you even needing to probe. Tells you he plans to get going soon, has his eye on a place, tells you he's ready to move on and start life from scratch. He tells you he's tired of you avoiding him like the plague, but there's no malice behind his voice– only pure disappointment, like he’s sulking. At that, you perk up and lean forward, guiltily trying to fish some more out of him.

“Hate that you stay so far away,” He grumbles before stuffing his fork in his mouth. “Always jumping and skittering around me like I’m, I’m– frightening. Hate that you think I’m scary.”

He hates that you keep your distance, hates that you've deemed him untouchable, hates that you see him as some warlord man who will crush you beneath the soles of his shoes if you utter something incorrectly.

“Miya,” He suddenly blurts, and for a second you think he thinks you’re the man that just left.

“Miya told me to confess to you.”

Your blood runs cold. Confess…?

Kiyoomi is quiet after that, finishing up his food with sad eyes. He wants more and more and more, any drop of your love that he can get, he will take it.

You don't ask if he means confessing by telling you all that he hates or if he means confessing something else. Something else that has your stomach stirring, heart doing odd twists as your fist the skirt of your dress. It's hard to think about it when he's right in front of you and slurring his words and clumsily pushing his plate away. It's something you must think about later, in the solace of your own room.

When he’s done, you help him shrug off his coat, watch as the expanse of his back reveals himself to you. You guide him to his room, expecting him to close the door as soon as he steps in again, but this time, he turns to face you and leans on the frame. He swallows as he looks over you, eyes droopy and tired, and he looks so vulnerable in this light. He’s loosened up, mouth parted only slightly as he lets his eyes wander where he usually doesn't when sober, lets his mind think what he usually holds back on any other day.

He breathes out your name. You look up at him curiously.

“I wish you could come with me.”

You stiffen. You gently place your hands on his chest and push him back into his room slowly– your touch makes him smile.

“Goodnight, Kiyoomi,” is all you say.

“Goodnight, angel.”

Just like the almost-kiss, neither of you bring up what Kiyoomi said that night. It's an elephant in the room– at least, to you. You’re not sure if Kiyoomi even remembers what he said. (He does).

The two of you delve into another game of dancing around each other in circles, putting on a show that makes it seem like everything's alright and that your hearts don’t ache. Neither of you are aware that when night falls and you're in your respective rooms, the both of you dwell and worry about what you've said and done.

As of late, Kiyoomi hasn't been around. He still helps you with his morning tasks, but after breakfast, he slips out of the house and tells you he will be searching around town for work with his friend Miya. You know that he doesn't owe you any explanations, but some part of you appreciates it.

(Kiyoomi knows this, too. He wants you to know he isn't seeking anyone else out there).

Day in and day out, he's around less and less. You start to think that Kiyoomi is now trying to get rid of his feelings ever since you didn't exactly reciprocate what he said that night, when he was drunk.

One heartbreaking evening, Kiyoomi announces that he’ll be leaving soon over dinner. Your mother has a big smile on her face as she congratulates him and cups his face and cries on and on about how proud she is and that he deserves all the best. You nod along to everything that she says, but your vision blurs and all the twines of your fork blend together and it’s hard to see what you’re eating. It's even harder to hold back your sniffles as she starts asking him where he’ll move and where he’ll be working and if he's met anyone. She's always on his back about that last one. It makes your heart feel bitter and heavy.

The next morning, your mother insists that she go out to the market and get Kiyoomi some farewell gifts. He reassures her that she doesn't really have to, tries to convince her to stay as she's already putting on her coat, and then she's walking out the door.

Kiyoomi asks if you could help him tidy up before he leaves. It’s more of a statement than a question, so you oblige.

You help him take off his sheets and load them into a basket to wash later. You wipe down the dresser and the desk, help sweep the floors, help him fold his clothing neatly so that his suitcase shuts securely.

When everything's done, you wipe your hands nervously on your apron and give him a curt nod, turning to leave the room.

“Stay,” He suddenly blurts, fists clenching at his sides. “I have to tell you something before I go.”

And so you turn and face him, letting your hands fall to your sides. He steps closer to you.

“Before I go,” He starts, eyes scanning your face for any emotion, but he gets nothing. You look numb.

“I don’t expect anything from you in return, but I must tell you, or else I don’t think I can live with myself. You,” He hesitates, feeling like he instead wants to turn away and save it for another day.

The curious glimmer in your eye pulls him back in.

“You have captured my heart,” Kiyoomi says breathlessly, “The entirety of my soul. I have no regrets in opening myself up to you, in letting you in, and I can say that you have made me a better man. I want to be vulnerable with you as I am now, time and time again. I want us to be one, but to be our own all at once.”

His eyes search yours frantically, “I love you.”

Your mouth drops open.

Hands shaky, you try smoothing out your dress and formulating a response, the right response, one that tells him you feel the same.

Kiyoomi begins to lean away, taking a step back, face calm. “As I’ve said, I don’t expect anything from you in return. You can leave, if you wish.”

You stay rooted still.

“Kiyoomi,” You finally squeak, voice cracking like you're on the verge of tears. The tone of it makes him stand up a little straighter, like he's worried about what he's done, but then you're beckoning him forward with your hand.

He comes in closer, approaching you like you’re injured- gentle and calm like he mustn't startle you any further. You try to lean into him, try to pull him closer, hands wrapping around his shirt and bringing him towards yourself, voice shaky as you manage to get out, “And I you.”

It’s all he needs. It’s all he needs before he’s dipping down, lips slotting against your own as you sigh out wantonly. Days and weeks and months of pent up feelings and unspoken words all pour out in one kiss, a kiss that has you stumbling backward and grasping at his shirt, his hands roaming down your back and pulling you into him, closer and closer and closer, like he is going to fuse the two of you together.

(He wants to).

It isn’t long until you find yourself pressed into his bed, both of your clothes thrown into some corner of the room, underwear torn off as he hovers above you, licking into your mouth and grinding against your cunt.

“Kiyoomi,” You whimper once he pulls away. “Please.”

He dips down again to kiss and nip at your chest, the metal of his tags stinging your skin and giving you shivers. Kiyoomi hums into your shoulder, licks a stripe up your neck before lifting himself off the bed, planting his hands on your hips. He drags you closer to him, lifting you up as he drags his cock over your warmth.

“Such a pretty little cunt,” he groans as he slips in, eyes falling shut when you immediately flutter around him. Kiyoomi almost falters, almost curls in on himself and leans atop of you again before he collects himself and starts dragging his cock in and out, hissing at the way you clamp down on him.

It’s a build up, Kiyoomi starting gentle and slow until you’re bucking up your hips and whining at him to go faster, till the only thing you can get out is a weak string of please please please.

Kiyoomi cages you beneath him again as he starts drilling into you, broken cries slipping past your lips as your hands race up and down his back, leaving light scratches that make him moan so prettily right by your ear.

He brings his hands to your thighs, pushing them up and trapping them against your chest and your eyes roll back, body falling pliant to him. He’s so close, all up in your face and humming about how wet you are for him, how fucking good you feel, how you’re made for me, doll, all for me.

His breath fans your face as he thrusts into you desperately, making the bed shake. The tags on his chain bump into your chin, clinking softly like little chimes and bringing you back time and time again as your mind spirals under the feeling of him pounding into you. Kiyoomi grunts and lifts himself up for the fastest second, taking the tags in hand and ripping the chain off his neck, metal grazing the wood floor as it slides away. His irritation with it makes you want to laugh, but the sound gets caught in your throat as his cock hits the sweetest spot in you, making your toes curl as you cry out his name.

He watches you as your hands sneak down, nimble fingers spreading apart your folds to try and get a good look at his length sliding in and out of you. Kiyoomi looks down, watches the spot where the two of you meet, watches as his dick comes out covered in slick before pushing himself back in.

“Fuck, fuck, angel, you’re so– so good, such a good girl for me.”

Your head bobbles up and down in a nod, weakly whimpering out his name, “I want to cum, please let me– let me cum all over you, Kiyoomi!”

He shudders, hand coming up to grab at your jaw. “Look at me. Look at me when you cum.”

You sob out pathetically, legs shaking and twitching as you tighten around him, gushing for what seems like hours until you fall limp, tears invading your vision. Kiyoomi murmurs praises into your cheek before planting both hands on your hips again, using you to reach his high, and you let him, let yourself be his little doll.

You feel his warm seed trickle into you, stomach fluttering at the sensation before he collapses on top of you.

Kiyoomi nestles his face into your chest for a few minutes before rolling onto his side, cupping your cheek with his big hand. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, trying to scoot in closer to him, albeit weakly.

“I love you, Kiyoomi.”

He smiles. He’s beautiful, you think. He opens his mouth to return the affection, your hand coming up to brush his curls away, but there’s a telltale sound at the door that alarms the both of you.

In an instant, you two are up, laughing and tripping over your own feet, Kiyoomi hustling into his slacks as you awkwardly slide your dress back on, thumping into the footboard of the bed as your mother chirps out like a bird, “I’m home!”

“Your mother,” Kiyoomi says in a hushed tone, leaning close to you as he buttons up his shirt, “Always has to go and interrupt us.”

You smile up at him cheekily, and he catches the mischievousness in your eyes.

“Just means that you must take me with you, I presume?”

You step out into the grass of the backyard, the sun already hanging in the sky since you’re a little bit late to your task. Nonetheless, you head straight towards the chicken coop and unfasten the doors, the chickens pouring out and clucking around obnoxiously, as they always have. The rest is muscle memory– throw out the old water, replace it, add in fresh food, sit with the chickens. The familiarity of it all soothes you– not that you need soothing. You simply feel in touch with your roots again.

“Good morning, Harold.” You jeer at one particular chicken, who eyes you warily. You laugh. “Now don’t be jealous, I’ll always come back to check on you.”

He gives an approving cluck.

You gather yourself and get back up, slipping off your boots on the back porch. As you approach the dutch door, you see someone already leaning onto the bottom half of it, a little bouquet in hand.

“He told me to give this to you,” Your mother swoons, holding out the bundle of flowers to you. A laugh bubbles at your lips as you observe the flowers, holding the stems together, “Aren’t these from the front yard? Such a romantic,” You joke, rolling your eyes as you make your way inside. You tuck the flowers into one of your mother’s vases to keep them safe.

“I’ll get started on breakfast,” You call out, despite it already being later in the day and, technically, lunch time would be rolling around.

“Oh no no,” You mother gasps, a sound that you had become all too familiar with when Kiyoomi was around, when she’d clutch her chest in shock.

“You rest, my dear, I’ll start working on the food.”

“Mother,” You press, “You need to go rest. That’s the exact reason why we came over here!”

“Nonsense!” She chimes, pushing you down to sit at the dining table as she pads over to the kitchen. You remain still for a few moments to appease her, but then the front door creaks open and you’re on your feet immediately.

“Hi lover,” You say almost bashfully as Kiyoomi approaches you, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he sinks down to kiss your forehead, your chin, your lips.

“Hi, my little doll,” he mutters against you before pulling away. “Did you like the flowers I got you?”

You laugh, observing the green and brown stains on his white undershirt, evidence of his hard work in the front yard. “I shouldn’t be praising a thief, seeing as you took my mother’s flowers right from her yard.”

“Oh?” He suddenly challenges, “I think this thief deserves a little praise, seeing as I successfully made your heart mine.”

You can’t help but scoff, tongue poking at your cheek with how embarrassing he is, how corny he’s become now that he’s in love.

Your mother scurries back in with two plates in hand, telling you both to Sit, sit! like dogs, and Kiyoomi looks at you with a knowing smile on his face. Always interrupting things.

As the three of you start eating, your mother points her fork accusingly at you.

“And you, my sweet girl, better eat up. You need more nutrients for when a baby is on the way.”

You choke. Kiyoomi smiles into his cup as he takes a sip.

“We’re not expecting,” You scold, stabbing your fork into your food. “You can’t just say things like that, mother—”

“How come? You never know! With the two of you in that new big home, you’ll surely want to fill in some space. You’re young! There’s no shame!”

“You’re the one who may as well fill up the space, visiting nearly every day!”

“Oh honey, I’m just excited for you—”

The bickering is all in good fun, Kiyoomi knows. He takes your hand into his underneath the table, finger brushing against the golden band that encompasses your own.

Yes, he thinks to himself, heart swelling. Perhaps it’s time to start filling up the space.

#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi x reader #sakusa smut #sakusa kiyoomi smut #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #sakusa fluff

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doitforbangchan · 6 months

Note

sorry if it's a little long. I love to come up with plots more than the smut part

you were just supposed to meet them backstage after a concert and get a picture. but hyunjin was obviously interested so chan asked you to stay behind, offering to drop you off since you were there alone. while they were waiting for the fans to leave, hyunjin kept talking to you and managed to get you to accept going with them to the dorms with them to chill after the concert. not the type to be able to say no easily, you accepted. you ended up drinking with them. the members tried making conversations but a tipsy hyunjin was doing all he could to keep your attention on him. after a while, the others left to sleep and since it was too late for you to go home, you had to stay over. hyunjin wanted you to sleep on his bed so you'd be comfortable and he'd be in the living room but it didn't seem fair to him. that's how you ended up in the same bed. the two of you were just talking at first but as you sobered up, things escalated between the two of you...

After party - Hyunjin

Masterlist

Idol!Hyunjin x Fan!Reader (Afab)

The pics are formatting weird and I dont know why :(

CW: Light smut, kissing, grinding, thigh riding, drinking, softdom!Hyunjin, sub!reader, cursing, anxiety (Lemme know if i missed any) Not proofread :) to my requester- I hope you enjoy please let me know what you think lovey <3

WC: 2.4k

Hyunjin was enamored by you. The second you walked backstage for your VIP picture with the group he knew he was doomed. Not only were you beautiful but so kind. You were all smiles as you greeted them each, handing them each little figures you had created for them of their Skzoo animals.

For you, this was the greatest thing to ever happen to you. You had waited so long for this, counting down the days since purchasing your ticket and backstage pass. You only expected it to be a quick meeting, get a picture maybe a hug and then be on your way. You were honestly shocked when Bangchan had invited you to hang out with them for a while.

"Did you come alone?" Chan had asked you when he noticed nobody was with you.

"Yeah, I did." You answered sheepishly, "I don't have any other friends into K-pop so I'm pretty used to attending events and concerts alone."

"It just means you have good taste." Hyunjin winked at you, and you felt the heat rush to your face as you mumbled a 'thanks'.

Hyunjin was sat next to you with his arm slung over the back of the couch you were both sitting on but he wasn't touching you. He just wanted to be close to you without being weird.

The two of you sat there for over an hour as he asked you questions about yourself, of course the other boys would chime in every now and again but generally they liked watching Hyunjin try and be cool with you. It was entertaining.

It was nearing closing for the venue and they had to leave soon, but Hyunjin didn't want this to end. He looked to Chan for a quick second with pleading eyes before he looked back at you and blurted "Do you wanna come home with us?"

You were thrown off by his sudden inquiry, "Huh?"

"Not in a gross way!" He panicked as Jisung burst into laughter watching his friend struggle. "I mean, we're headed back to our dorm and we planned on having a few drinks and hanging out. Our version of an after party. Would you like to join us?"

"Oh uhhh" you looked around at the encouraging looks from Felix and Chan, ignoring the snickering from Jisung and Seungmin. "I mean, I guess if you want me too, maybe an hour or so wouldn't hurt." You were a people pleaser and couldn't say no on a regular day, but especially not when your favorite idol asks you too.

"Perfect" He smiled brightly.

The ride over was more luxury than you were used too, even being shoved into the back of the black SUV. Perspective really was everything huh?

Once back at the dorms the boys wasted no time in getting acquainted with the bottle of tequila Minho had slyly taken from the venue. Though you kindly refused to do shots, you couldn't say no when Felix offered you a mixed drink he made you with some juice from the fridge.

Time felt like it was flying by. Before you knew it, it was nearing midnight. It was easy to loose track of time, though. Since the moment you got here Hyunjin had take it upon himself to keep you company. He had only taken two shots but he was clearly tipsy; his mild slurring and glassy eyes being a dead giveaway.

Not that you were any better, being a lightweight yourself. That's probably why it took you so long to notice the latening time.

"Shit" you cursed after checking your phone, only now noticing how late it was. "It's getting really late, I think I gotta head out."

Hyunjin looked around and noticed you two were the only ones left in the living room, the other members seemingly having gone to bed or to their own dorms. "Damn, how did we not notice how late it was?" He knew exactly how he didn't notice. You were too mesmerizing for him to want to pay attention to anything else.

"I should probably try to call an Uber." You sighed, opening your phone and praying you could get an available ride. Most Saturday nights were impossible to get a ride, since it seemed like the whole city tried to get one at the same time.

Hyunjin spoke before his brain could catch up. "Sleep in my bed tonight." He backtracked at seeing your eyes widen at his proposition. "Uhh what I mean is, it's really late and getting a ride might take hours anyway, so you could just stay here tonight if you wanted.."

"Oh umm." You bit your lip, nervously. "I don't want to be an inconvenience for you."

He shook his head in disagreement, shaggy hair bouncing at his vehement action. "It's no inconvenience, hon. Really, it would even make me feel better knowing you were here safe instead of waiting for a rando or walking home in the middle of the night."

"Aren't you kind of a rando, Hyunjin?" You had a slight tease to your voice.

"A rando who you came home with, yeah." He giggles, standing up and putting his hand out for you to take. He looked at you expectantly when you hesitated to grab his hand in return. "Come on, y/n. You can take my bed and I'll take the couch tonight. No objections!"

You shyly took his hand in yours, giving up on trying to leave knowing he was right.

You found yourself unable to sleep. It has easily been 40 minutes since Hyunjin had made his bed for you and wished you goodnight, and you couldn't stop thinking of just how you ended up in this situation.

You only meant to get a picture with your favorite K-pop group- nothing more nothing less. It's what you had paid for, at least. Never in your life would you have imagined this is where you would be at the end of the night. In Hwang Hyunjins bed. The sheets smelled of him, the silk holding onto both his natural scent and traces of his expensive cologne. Honestly it was quite sobering, your buzz fading by the minute.

As if his ears were ringing, the bedroom door slowly creaks open to reveal Hyunjin, peeking in curiously. The only light in the room was the soft glow of the moon shining through his window. It was just enough for him to be able to make out your still figure in his bed.

"Pssst" his voice was a whisper, "are you awake?" He didn't want to wake you if you were sleeping so he kept his tone low.

"Yeah." You whispered back, equally as soft. "Are you ok?"

He shuffled close to you in the room, "Uh yeah, it's just that.. the couch is really uncomfortable."

"Oh, uh" You stammed, "I can go to the couch so you can have your bed back."

You went to remove yourself from his bed but he stopped you, his hand finding your shoulder to keep you in place, "Well I was thinking, if you didn't mind, I could just stay in here with you."

You blinked in surprise, contemplating it for a moment. He wasn't slurring his speech anymore so you knew his tipsiness was wearing off. " I guess that would be ok." You slowly scooted further into the bed, giving him space to climb under the covers with you.

He situated himself under the warm blankets and turned his body to face you. Now you were both looking at each other through the dim light.

"I do appreciate you coming and hanging out with us tonight." He breathed out, breaching the silence.

You balked, "Are you kidding? You brought me into your home, and now you're letting me in your bed! This whole night has been incredible, really. I should be the one thanking you." You said in a hushed tone, fighting back the urge to word vomit your appreciation.

Hyunjin chucked, "No need to thank me." He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, gathering his nerves. "If I'm being honest, something about you had immediately caught my attention the second you walked backstage to meet us. You were so... Captivating. And sweet. Those little Skzoo minis you made for us are so cute and I can tell you took your time to make them for us. I knew I wanted to know you more." He reached for your hand in the dark and you tentatively let him grab it and laced your fingers together.

Your face was burning hot at his confession. Honestly you were at a loss for words. You hadn't considered yourself special in anyway. Sweet- maybe. But captivating? Never. It was a whirlwind of emotions. You didn't doubt that he was speaking his truth, more so your heart didn't want to believe it.

As if sensing your inner turmoil he gave you a shy grin to ease your mind, "I understand if you don't feel the same. I know it's crazy to spring that kind of thing on someone you just met."

"No its not that!" You protested louder than intended, before sheepishly lowering your voice back to a whisper. " This is all very surreal to me, right now. This isn't how I imagined my night would be, but I am so glad it did. I really liked getting to know you guys, especially you... Who may or may not be my bias." You hid your eyes behind your hand.

You tried to tug your other hand from his grasp but he held on, tighter now after your confession.

"Oh, I'm your bias, huh?" You could hear the smirk on his face as his confidence grew exponentially. You turned your head at buried it into the pillow, unable to meet his gaze.

"Don't be mean." you mumbled.

"I would never dream of being mean to you, sweetheart. You're the one who can't even look at your bias. So really you're the mean one here, angel."

You took a peek at him to see his signature pout gracing his features, the dumpling shape of his lips making you want to bite them.

"You're lucky you're pretty" You huffed, feeling his other hand reach for your waist and pull you closer. You held back a squeal at his action.

"You think I'm pretty?" He abandoned his pout for a boyish grin.

"Mhm" you responded, so quietly he almost missed it.

"Well, between you and me, angel," He leaned in closer to your face, eyes flickering back and forth between your lips and eyes, "I think you're prettier."

The singer left you room to deny his advances, but when you made no move to get away he gently pressed his soft lips against your own. You felt your eyes close on impact, and sighed into him as he swept his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. Once you parted for him and allowed him entry into your mouth he let out a low moan; the sound coming from somewhere in the back of his throat.

You fisted his shirt when he let go of your hand, instead his found purchase cupping your cheeks as he deepened the kiss even further. His body pressed as close to you as he could get, letting himself get drunk on your taste as he sobered from the alcohol.

You whimpered when he wedged one of his thighs between yours, the strong muscle creating a friction on your clothes center.

"Mm I liked that sound. I wanna hear you sing more pretty melodies for me, angel." He retracted his lips from yours, choosing to instead pepper smooches down your neck. He ground his thigh into you, eliciting another whimper.

Hyunjin sucked a mark onto your flesh, the extra stimulation causing you to buck your hips, seeking more. "Hyuuunnee"

"That's it baby, ride my thigh. Fuck, I can feel you soaking through both of our clothes, angel." He really means his clothes, as he had given you a pair of sleep shorts to wear. He sped up his movements, the grinding getting harsher against your core.

Your clit was rubbing so deliciously against your panties, and you definitely knew with how much you were dripping for him that he was telling the truth. You couldn't believe how worked up you were getting, already on the verge of cumming and you hadn't even been really touched yet.

His hand traveled down to the hem of your shirt, and he pushed it up to reveal your braless chest. He let out a groan of his own at the sight. "You not wear a bra for me, angel? Being a naughty girl?"

You moaned when he latched his mouth onto the skin of your tit, "Mmmmm, no Hyun. Jus' can't sleep in it." one of your hands found his hair.

"I don't think that's true, angel." He said it between nips to your flesh, "I think you wanted me to come in here and ravish you." He nipped particularly hard and you gasped. "Bet you were laying here, soaking in your panties waiting for me, huh?" He switched to your other breast.

Your panting was getting harsher, getting closer and closer to cumming on his thigh. "Hyune, m' gonna..gonna..."

"Gonna cum, pretty girl? Gonna make a mess for me, hmm?" You nodded as best you could, "Go ahead, angel. Hyun's got you." At his permission you let go, a soft cry escaping you as you shook against him. The whole time he kept steady in his grinding, working you through your orgasm. "Fuck, you're even prettier when you cum, oh my god. Prettier than a painting."

When the shocks of pleasure faded into over stimulation you tried to give him a light push to signal him to stop. He took the hint and slowly ended his grinding. Your breathing was heavy and your pupils were blown wide, the sight enough for him to crave you even more if that was possible.

Keeping eye contact with you, he gingerly reached into the front of your (his) shorts, his long fingers finding your dripping wetness and collecting some of it onto the pads of his fingers. You bleated a moan at the contact of him sweeping through your wet folds.

You almost came again when Hyunjin removed his fingers from your pussy and brought the shiny digits up to his mouth. He groaned and his eyes rolled to the back of his head when he sucked your essence off his skin.

"Fuck angel, you really are sweet." He was quick to flip you onto your back, causing you to squeal. "Gotta be quiet, sweet girl." He scooted down your body, pulling your bottoms and panties down with him. "Can't have the boys coming in here while I'm eating my new favorite treat, right angel?"

A/n: Yesssss I know its not full smut, but honestly i liked the it this way. i think it fits better :) I hope you enjoy please let me know if you did

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

©doitforbangchan

#stray kids #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #requested

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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year

Text

zeykoyu

zeykoyu [zɛj.ˈko.ju] n. healer

Anonymous Request: I would like to request a Neteyam x Na'vi reader with the "you'll never be her trope", where reader is promised to Neteyam, but he loves another. He is sort of a shitty asshole to her, a girl who is a quiet not very well known member of the clan; he treats reader with the coldest shoulder. However, he overhears the girl talking to her friends about how she just using Neteyam to gain status in the clan. He then sees reader for the caring person she is, and grovels for forgiveness.

I have resigned myself to my fate.

In what feels like a very short amount of time, I will be mated for life before Eywa, to a man who does not love me. In fact, he barely seems to tolerate me.

He looks at me with disappointment, and sometimes, it even looks like he feels disgusted by me.

It wasn't always this way. Neteyam used to be a friend, and someone I trusted. He was so kind and good-hearted when we were younger, but he has turned his back on me and come to resent our pairing.

As if it is my choice! I am the next Tsahik of our people, and he the next Olo'eyktan. We are promised to each other from youth, and there's nothing either of us can do that would not cause much upset in the clan, and with our families.

Though Neteyam clearly does not want to be mated to me, even more than that, he does not want to upset his family.

The change in his heart happened just a year ago, and it was slow at first. We went from friends to acquaintances to strangers, and now to near enemies, because of her.

I don't really blame her, though. He fell in love with her, and she can't control that. I felt jealous at first, but over time, as Neteyam has treated me more and more coldly, I have started to hate both of them.

If I'm being honest, I understand why he loves her; she is beautiful, and funny, and many men have had their eyes on her. I am plain, and small, and not many people speak to me. She does seem a better match for someone like Neteyam, and I almost wish we could be free of this pairing.

As much as Neteyam does not want to disappoint his family, I don't want to disappoint our people; I am a talented healer and I will serve our people well as Tsahik.

So I have resigned myself to my fate.

Our fate.

Neteyam watches Sa'me from a distance, as she approaches the center of home tree with her friends, dropping off a full fishing net from a day's work.

His heart swells with pride at the woman he loves, and then, he gets angry. These two feelings always accompany each other.

Love and adoration for Sa'me, and disappointment towards his fate. It doesn't matter who he loves; he's promised to Y/N, and he can't get out of it. That's just not how it works.

She is the next Tsahik and he knows, despite how he wants things to be, that she will be an excellent Tsahik for their people. He has to put the people before himself.

But he does not have to be happy about it.

He approches Sa'me and her friends, but their backs are to him as they empty their nets, and as he gets closer, he hears their conversation.

"Aren't you worried, about his upcoming mating ceremony?" one friend asks.

To his surprise, Sa'me laughs. "No! I have gotten what I wanted, and I am relieved it will end soon."

He stops in his tracks, listening closely.

"Sa'me!" a friend chastises.

"Well, I have three offers for my hand, from fine men. I owe that to Neteyam. When they knew he wanted me, that made them want me. I think I'll pick Marek - he's handsome and strong. Neteyam is nice, but too boring for me. Plus, the way he's treated Y/N since we started spending time together... I almost feel bad for her. She will have a miserable life."

The girls laugh, and Neteyam spins on his heel, charging away.

He expects sympathy from his sister, but earns only an eye-roll when he tells Kiri what he overheard.

"Well, she's right. You knew you were promised and pursued Sa'me anyway, even though it was kind of obvious what she was doing. And you have been an asshole to Y/N. She's really nice to still put up with you - to even speak with you. You've treated her like dirt the last year, and she's never said a mean thing about you. Even though, she would be right to do it."

Neteyam stares at his sister, slack jawed, unsure whether to feel angry or guilty. A fine mixture of both rises in his chest, and he sighs.

"You used to be friends with her, you know. She's so sweet, and so kind. She's only putting up with your behavior so she can be Tsahik, and not because she cares about the title. She wants to help the People, and knows she'll be able to if she's Tsahik. She just has to marry an asshole to do it."

"Okay, okay," Neteyam says, waving his hand in the air, begging his sister to stop.

"Well, I just don't feel bad for you, Teyam. You need to grow up and deal with what you did."

He rolls his eyes, but he can't deny it: Kiri is right.

Without her noticing, Neteyam starts to watch Y/N as much as he can from that day in. Her daily routine is simple. She rises early, and heads into the forest to gather supplies she can use in her healing practice. Once she's done, she begins going around to people who she knows need her help, in and out of their homes all day, gaining hugs and smiles and thanks wherever she goes.

She is soft-spoken, and kind hearted, and her small stature only serves to make her seem more gentle, more dispositioned for healing.

He sees the way people look at her as she approaches - they look at her with relief, and hope, and when she leaves, she leaves people better than she found them.

Neteyam feels sick to his stomach.

He tries to remember what it is about Sa'me that drew him in. He sees her beauty, he can't deny it still, but it's clear now that her beauty is only on the surface.

Did she ever compliment him? Support him? Offer him a kind word?

He can't even remember what they talked about... for a year.

"Neteyam?"

He turns from the tree he's leaning against and sees Y/N approaching, a large basket in her arms.

"You look ill. Are you okay?"

Neteyam wants to tell her he's fine, that she should leave, but he feels light-headed and instead, he sinks to the ground, a sweat breaking out on his brow.

"I'm... okay. My head feels light."

She kneels in front of him, rummaging through her basket. She pours a few things in a cup, and mixes them together with a powder.

"Here," she says, handing it to him. He takes it, his hands touching hers for a second, and he's struck by how small her hands are.

She's so delicate, like a flower, and he has certainly done his best to trample all over her.

The shame he feels is unlike anything he's ever felt before.

The drink is bitter, but it starts working almost immediately, and the faint feeling begins to fade.

"Thank you, Y/N," he says, handing the cup back to her. She takes it with a small smile and a nod, and rises to leave. Neteyam reaches out, grabbing her arm. "Wait."

She turns, frowning down at him. He stands up.

"I want to apologize to you, Y/N. I have been... terrible. I have neglected you, and I have been an asshole. I'm sorry. I would like to start again."

She tilts her head to the side and narrows her eyes, staring deep into him. He wonders if she can see his soul.

Of all of the things I thought Neteyam wanted to say to me, 'I'm sorry' was not even on the list.

My instinct is to tell him to go to tell, but there is such a strange look on his face... he still looks sick, and sad, and a little bit ashamed.

Well, he should be. But also - what choice do I have? If Neteyam is offering me a chance to make the best of this situation, shouldn't I take it?

I remember how I felt about him once. Hopeful, excited, nearly in love... but that feeling is so far away now. I'm not sure if there's even a possibility of re-gaining it.

But, it seems smart to try, if we are to have any chance at a happy life.

"Okay," I reply finally. "But I don't think Sa'me will appreciate it."

Neteyam hangs his head for a moment, and then meets my eyes again. "What she appreciates does not matter. You are to be my mate. You are all that matters."

He places a hand over his heart.

I would like to trust him, but it's going to take more than one conversation where he says the right things.

It seems I cannot get rid of Neteyam now. When I gather supplies in the morning, he is there. When I make my rounds in the village, he is there. He is always... there.

Not silently, either. He is full of questions. Everything I do and say, he has a question about. If it wasn't endearing, it would be exhausting.

After a week of this, he asks me to take a ride on our ikrans with him - and I can't say no. I have been so busy working lately, that it sounds like a wonderful and welcome break.

Early in the morning, we head out together, and take one of the longest rides I've ever been on. In the air, we twist and turn and glide together, and all the while, Neteyam is whooping and throwing me ear-to-ear smiles.

He gestures to a nearby cave in the floating rocks, and we land together, dismounting. We are both wind-burnt, but smiling.

"I must ask you something," I say.

"Anything," Neteyam replies, chest heaving from the effort of riding.

"Why did you change your mind? About Sa'me?"

His face darkens, and he sighs. "I overheard her talking about how being seen with me has gotten her offers from many fine potential mates, and she doesn't care that I'm promised to someone else."

I wince. Even if Neteyam is a jerk, I don't think anyone deserves to be used like that.

"I'm sorry, Neteyam. Though, that does explain your sudden... interest."

He shakes his head. "No. After I heard what Sa'me said, I went to Kiri and she, uh, pointed out what an asshole I've been. She also pointed out how kind and smart and talented you are, probably to let me know, uh, what an asshole I've been. So I started kind of, uh, watching you. And I realized she was right."

"About what?"

"Well, I am an asshole but... you are the most kind-hearted woman in this clan. And you did not try to withdraw from our match because you deserve to be Tsahik. Not for the title, but because you are best suited to serve our people. You care about them more than yourself. You're selfless. And beautiful. And I was blind to think anyone could be better suited for me."

I bite my lip, and take a step back. "Neteyam, that all sounds very nice, but I..."

He steps forward, reaching out and taking both of my hands in his. "It isn't enough. I know that, Y/N. I don't expect our problems to be solved now. I just want a chance to prove to you, who I really am. What a good mate I can be for you. I can make you happy. I want to. It's all I want."

I can feel the tears gathering in my eyes, and I blink hard to keep them at bay. "I always thought so highly of you, Neteyam. I want us to be happy. I want to try."

He squeezes my hand tightly, pulling me to him.

"I will make you happy. I promise you, Y/N. Please, let me kiss you."

I hesitate for only a moment. The look in his eyes is so sincere, and his eyes fall down to my lips for just a moment, then back up to my eyes, and I can't resist. Everything I want seems to be within my grasp.

He places his hands around my waist, and pulls me in.

"Say yes," he whispers. I can't find my voice, but I nod.

The kiss is explosive. A year of anger, frustration and want packed into one kiss. My body is flush to his, and I feel the tears spilling over, but I can't stop them, and I don't want to pull away.

It feels too good.

I put my hands in his hair, gripping tightly, sighing against his lips, and he groans.

Finally, we pull away, and stare at each other, both breathless.

"I will make you happy, healer," he whispers.

I might believe him now.

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam fic #avatar #avatar twow

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twstedreamweaver · 2 months

Text

Something Wicked - Yandere Jade Leech x G/N Reader

NRC is a dangerous place and you got on the bad side of some Savanaclaw students.

You end up making a huge mistake, but don't worry, Jade Leech is there to clean it up for you.

TW: A student commits suicide, violence, drugging, reader has a panic attack, slight suggestive content, murder -> minor character deaths, yandere themes, stalking, reader gets into a fist fight, kidnapping

The students of Twisted Wonderland's prestigious Night Raven College are known for many things, but kindness is most certainty not among them.

You knew the first day you stepped foot on campus that this world reveres the strong and preys upon the weak, and in the months since, you have become well acquainted with the unspoken laws of the school. The watchful eye of the faculty and the Housewardens (well, some of them) only extends so far. Out of their reach, in the shadowy hallways and courtyards, NRC devolves into a merciless, brutal game of survival of the fittest.

You're lucky that your friends are looking out for you.

"Ugh, those Savanaclaw students only seem to be gettin' bolder by the day." Ace frowned.

The expression on his face was hard to read, but he seemed... frightened. Genuinely frightened. The air suddenly felt frigid.

In the blink of an eye, Ace returned to his usual, cocky demeanor and his signature shit-eating grin replaced his previously solemn features.

"You're lucky I was here, or your ass would have been toast-".

"You mean we-" Deuce interrupted, annoyed.

"Whatev, dude, it was pretty much all me that made them run for the hills anywayyyy."

Deuce opted to ignored Ace's insult, his eyes clouded with genuine worry, "Y/n, are you alright?"

You glanced behind you, as three figures clad in Savanaclaw uniform rounded a corner. You frowned.

Right before they disappeared, one turned his cloaked head to look at you, features dark, hidden beneath his hood and he curled his lips into a sinister grin.

A chill crawled up your spine. They were too far away to see clearly; you must have imagined it.

You invoked the ire of Savanaclaw once before, during the Spelldrive tournament, but being in Leona's good graces convinced them to overlook you for easier targets.

But not even Leona could deter them this time.

"They've been at it for what? Three days now?" Ace's voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You let out a heavy sigh before giving them a smile, albeit a pained one. You chose to ignore Ace's rhetorical question for the time being.

"Thanks guys. I'm honestly really grateful to always have you guys ready to back me up. I don't know what I'd do without you." You can't remember the last time you admitted something so serious, so sincere and heartfelt.

The constant state of paranoia and hypervigilance you'd been living in were really getting to you.

Both Deuce and Ace seemed to reel back at your words, surprised. You swear you see the hint of pink grace their cheeks, as they turn away, muttering jumbled combination of "Erk, yeah, uh, no problem!" and "Well, yeah you should be thanking us."

No way that's all it takes to make them blush. You smile inwardly.

"Let's get out of here. It's getting dark."

As the trio, talking amongst themselves, returns to the safety of the main corridor, a lone figure quietly follows.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Even Grim's snoring could not distract you from the cacophony of your thoughts that night.

Ace and Deuce were insistent on spending the night at Ramshackle. Ace in particular tried to worm his way into your bed, on the pretense of 'protection'. Deuce vehemently objected of course.

Your bed was already small after all, and Deuce definitely did not seem to enjoy the idea of you lying that close to him while he dejectedly watched from the hard floor. And Grim would have been pissed to not have enough room at the bottom of the bed to curl up.

And Grim did already loudly insist that he - Grim the Great! mind you - is perfectly capable of protecting his human! And he certainly didn't need help from those two.

You turned down Ace's suggestion anyway, teasing him alongside Deuce, leading to a grumbling Ace defeatedly disappearing down the staircase.

In all honesty, you wouldn't mind - given the current situation - but the thought of your bodies touching admittedly made your cheeks grow uncomfortably hot.

The duo opted to sleep on the couches in the foyer instead, as Deuce suggested. It was the best location anyway, as they'd be closer to the main entry if anyone tried to break in.

After giving them blankets and biding Ace and Deuce goodnight, you settled in with Grim, who quickly fell asleep, leaving you to lie awake, alone with your thoughts.

You sighed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep was futile.

Your troubles began well before the incident.

Henry, a Savanaclaw student you had shown a sliver of kindness to in Alchemy class, started following you around the school, trying to talk to you, to befriend you, to be near you. He spiraled into a twisted form of infatuation. He'd give you weirdly expensive gifts (which you'd decline), researched your interests extensively, and hunted down all your socials online.

You weren't interested in him, not romantically or even platonically, he was creepy, to say the least, and you hardly wanted him as a friend. You were civil, polite at first, but you became increasingly harsh as the weeks dragged on.

While NRC was cruel, you were lucky to have made allies with the people you did.

Your friends noticed him within a few days. You had amassed many friends in high places while at the school and they ensured that he never got close to you, except, of course, in Alchemy class, the one class you shared with him. Crewel, ever watchful, quickly noticed and separated you, ensuring that you weren't together on projects.

Occasionally, you'd feel a tinge of guilt. While he certainly was annoying, you couldn't help but feel that he didn't deserve what happened.

Seemingly over the span of a week, Henry managed to amass a large group of very powerful people who all greatly despised him.

Idia deactivated his socials and Leona and Ruggie practically banned him from leaving the dorm after classes. Azul tricked him into a terrible deal and Riddle would slap a collar on him for the most minor of infractions.

You guessed he'd give up. He didn't. He actually got more aggressive, more spiteful towards you for not reciprocating his feelings. More hateful and angry at the injustices he was subjected to by the Housewardens. He got worse and worse by the day, until one day, he inevitably snapped.

Love potions are not only highly taboo, but also illegal in Twisted Wonderland. Moreso, it's incredibly easy to determine the culprit, as each potion is unique to its user.

Jack, with his sharp sense of smell, caught a whiff of something in your drink at the cafeteria. You had no idea how Henry managed to slip something into a sealed drink that you purchased from the cafeteria directly, but he did.

You and Jack went to Vil, arguably the alchemy genius of the school, who determined that it was a love potion. And given the situation with Henry and a strand of his hair, it was easy to determine that it was none other than Henry's love potion.

Henry was expelled from Night Raven College shortly after Vil showed Crowley the evidence. The police were alerted, and it seemed that he was set to spend a year in prison.

But Henry never went to jail. He never even got arrested.

A few hours after the police arrived and they couldn't seem to find him, a frantic student stumbled into Crowley's office.

Henry was found hanging from a tree on the edge of school grounds. A noose tightened around his blue neck, eyes bulging. It was a terrible sight and one that Crowley did not want to get out. And Crowley made sure the truth never saw the light of day.

To the general public and his family, Henry likely ran away to escape prosecution. But you, and a select few, knew the truth.

The whole situation reeked of suspicion to you. You couldn't help but wonder if Henry was framed, if he really did kill himself, or if someone else was responsible.

But for everyone concerned, it appeared Henry disappeared from your life as quickly as he had entered it, but the problem was far from over.

Henry had dedicated friends, and they resented you. Despised you.

They started appearing late at night, tailing you as you walked home. You told Deuce and Ace and you all concluded that while their identities were always obscured, it had to be the late Henry's vengeful friend group. They were upperclassmen, Savanaclaw students, and while Ace and Deuce seemed ready to take the fight to them, you urged them not to. The last thing you wanted was for them, your best friends, to get hurt on your behalf.

After all, they were likely just trying to scare you. But the sinister aura you felt told you otherwise. You wish they knew how guilty you felt, how you cried when he died. It wasn't your fault, you knew that, but you couldn't help but feel responsible for Henry's suicide.

You hadn't told anyone besides Ace and Deuce. Fear and guilt stopped you. Fear that history would repeat itself. That another student would stumble upon three more bodies hanging from a tree.

Why is this always happening to me?

You tossed and turned for an hour, until finally you fell into an unsteady sleep, haunted by nightmarish visions.

Unbeknownst to you, they were waiting for you to do just that.

A person, clad in black, crawled out from under your bed.

"Got you."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You awoke to cold, unrelenting, freezing cold. You felt as if you were in a fog, as if your limbs were tied to weights you couldn't hope to lift. You heard distorted voices and the whispers of wind.

The Savanaclaw students. Henry's friends. They got you.

Adrenaline surged through your body, ripping you out of your deep, mind-numbing slumber.

Your eyes flew open, but you couldn't see anything except the night sky as your eyes adjusted to the low light. You were on your back, you felt grass against your exposed skin and the hard ground beneath your head.

The voices sharpened into focus.

"-wait for this lying bitch to get what they deserve."

You have to get up. You're starting to see figures moving around you. Three, two milling around, one trying to lift something with magic. They had a lantern set on the ground, but it was faint, barely enough to emit enough light to see what the one was trying to lift.

"Well, then fucking help me lift this. Jeez, why am I doing all the damn work-"

It almost looked like, a rock?

"Sorry, got distracted. Rich, you recordin'?"

You have to get up, now.

You feel like there's electricity surging through your body, snapping you out of the sleep-induced haze.

You were drugged. It must have worn off before they planned.

"I can't wait to see their head fucking splatter."

You leaped up. The world was spinning, you were moving so fast, your brain couldn't keep up. You stumbled then lunged, aiming for the lone figure that wasn't lifting up the rock.

Your vision narrowed.

One of them yelled, out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the students whip around towards you, canceling the spell, as the rock fell right onto the other's foot.

Curses, yells, it didn't matter. The man's screams were dilluted by your concentration on the man in front of you.

His face was distorted, his mouth agape. He was turning towards you.

Perfect.

You clenched your right hand into a fist and planted your feet into the dirt, bracing yourself, as you reeled back and aimed for his exposed jaw.

You exhaled sharply right before your fist collided with his jaw with a crack. His head whipped to the left, spit flying out of his mouth, a choked, strangled noise coming from deep in his throat.

Your left elbow was ready, your right arm coming back to guard, twisting your torso as you threw your elbow into the left side of his head, swinging through.

You couldn't feel anything, everything was moving too fast, but you were sure you might have broken your hand.

After the collision, you jumped back, head whipping around to face your approaching opponent.

A punch was heading right for you, aimed at your head.

You side stepped, centering yourself, grabbed his arm with your left hand and then reeled back for another right punch. As he stumbled forward, your right fist met the side of his face. He lurched to the side, and you stepped behind him to kick at his lower back, you planted your foot on his tailbone and pushed, sending him sprawling forward.

The other man was trying desperately to lift the rock off his foot, but he couldn't pick it up with magic alone and he certainly couldn't lift it with his own strength.

The man fell face first into the dirt. He was weak, helpless, entirely at your mercy.

Your vision was red, your breathing was heavy, your lungs and throat burned as you raised your foot and slammed it down.

They deserve this.

You were enraged, terrified, the world was spiraling but. You were finally in control.

You were on top now; you were the one in power.

Your foot slams down over and over again.

They were going to kill you.

You didn't need magic, not this time.

In this shitty world, you were always the magicless nobody, lost, homeless, at the whims of a headmage who couldn't care less.

He was begging for you to stop, trying to lift himself, but each stomp left even weaker.

And you blame me? You go after me?

His face is caved in, you hear a crack as your foot meets his skull again and again.

Why am I always the problem? Why do I always have to deal with this?

The blood looks black under the moonlit night.

I never asked for any of this.

Tears started streaming down your cheeks, the man with the rock on his foot was yelling, begging you to stop as he watched, completely helpless, as his friend was beaten.

You were going to do this to me! Why the fuck should I stop?

He wasn't breathing anymore, was he?

Reality seemed to shift into focus.

What have I done?

"I never wanted Henry to die!" You screamed, as you stepped back, staring at the lifeless body in front of you, shaking.

You collapsed to the ground, sobs wracking your throat, "I never wanted any of this!"

"What was I supposed to do?"

The other student still lay unconscious on the ground a few feet away.

You couldn't breathe.

He was dead, you were certain.

Everything was spinning again, you were nauseous, your hand stung, your elbow stung, your head was muddled by the lasting effects of a drug.

You were sobbing and you couldn't figure out how to breathe. The air wouldn't enter your lungs.

"Oh my god." you wheezed through choked sobs and tears.

A hand landed, gently, on your shoulder.

"It's going to be alright, Y/n."

You whipped around to see Jade Leech towering over you. His expression unreadable in the dark.

"Jade?" You choked out.

The boy with the rock on his foot stared, mouth hanging open. He was quiet.

The whole world was quiet for a moment.

"In the flesh." You saw the trace of a smile in the dark.

"I'll take care of this, Y/n. Nothing is going to happen to you." You suddenly noticed the sharp edge in his calm tone, the piercing sinister nature of his words.

You couldn't move as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to you. You took it with shaky hands.

He stood up and walked quickly toward the remaining Savanaclaw student.

Like a predator that knew its prey was cornered.

"Please, no, I'm sorry, Jade-" The boy was trembling, his pleas falling on deaf ears. "I'll do any-", the student's sentence was cut short. A gurgling, gasping sound came from the student. Jade's gloved hands were squeezing the boy's neck. The student flailed, arms clawing at Jade, writhing, and Jade only dug his fingers in more.

You watched in horror, at his inhuman strength, at the silent, brutal way in which he drained the life from the student's eyes.

All you could hear was the gasps of the boy in the dead of night, as you stared, helpless to move.

His body collapsed, head lolling to the side, with a final twitch.

Jade refused to let go as the seconds seemed to crawl by, barely half a minute but it felt like an eternity.

Jade dropped the boy, still stuck under the rock, as his body rag dolled and flopped onto the ground.

"No matter how many obstacles I must dispose of, I will always protect you, Y/n," Jade's voice broke the uncomfortable, painful silence.

Your stomach churned and your vision closed in, your arms barely able to hold yourself up. You collapsed onto your side, the drug and the stress and the fear all adding up.

Jade turned his head to look at you, a sinister grin flashing sharp teeth contorting his face.

"I assure you that I will always keep you safe." As you fell into unconsciousness, you heard Jade moving towards you in the dark.

You felt a gloved hand brush hair from your face.

"Allow me to take care of your problems, just like last time."

#jade x reader #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #jade leech #twisted wonderland fic #disney twst #yandere jade leech #yandere twisted wonderland #male yandere #yandere #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #twsted wonderland #jade leech x yuu

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unhingedexperimenter · 1 month

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(You can tag me on my tgs side blog. I also apologize but I know a few Scottish words. So to anyone reading this I apologize for the inaccuracy.) Becky Boxleitner noticed a change in the atmosphere as she and her pet monkey Bob walked into the sixth grade classroom. All of the students were excitedly chatting with one another. Becky and Bob exchanged confused looks at the scene. 'What is going on?' They both thought. Becky walked to where her friends Violet Heaslip, Rose Franklin, and Todd Scoops Ming were sitting, also joining in the excited yet low volume chattering. "Hey guys what's going on?" Becky asked her friends. They each turned their heads to greet their friend. "Hey Becky guess what, we're getting a new teacher for our class!" Scoops exclaimed. Becky looked surprised at the announcement. Bob also mimicked her facial expression. "Wait really? What happened to Miss Davis?" Becky asked, wondering what happened to their old teacher. It was just a week only into the new school year so a sudden teacher exchange was a complete shock to Becky especially since there were no announcements about it beforehand. "Miss Davis had to move back home because of a family emergency." Rose Franklin answered. "The principal had to scramble to find a new teacher to fill in for our class. It was all last minute stuff." Becky nodded in understanding of her friends' answers. It was a nice perk to be friends who were upcoming reporters. Soon the final bell rang which indicated for every student to take their seats. Becky took her place beside her best friend Violet and Bob plopped down next to her. Soon a man who looked to be in his mid 30s walked in and towards the desk. He had curly brown air, an arched nose, and reddish brown eyes. He wore a tan button-down shirt with a red vest as well as brown slacks and dark suede shoes. The man gave a pleasant and warm smile to all the students there. "Hello my name is Dr. Henry Jekyll and I will be your teacher for the school year." Becky and the other kids ears perked up as they took note of the man's accent. Even Tobey became slightly interested in his new teacher. None of them were sure where their new teacher was from. Dr. Jekyll gave a light chuckle as if he could sense their growing curiosity about him. He lightly clapped his hands together to gain their undivided attention and focus. "Well since this is my first time teaching here, why don't we all play a little game so we can all get better acquainted with each other. Here's what to do. One at a time, say your name and share a wee bit about yourself. Likes, family, interests and all that. I'll go first to show ya what ah mean. Again. My name is Dr. Henry Jekyll. I was born in Glasgow but ah moved to London where I attended university. I have a five year old wee lassie or daughter named Amber. I enjoy chemistry and reading on occasions. Now who would like to go next?" @unhingedexperimenter

Of course Tobey had taken the opportunity to place attention on himself and to have a reason to boast about himself. “My name is Tobey McCallister the third and I will be the most intelligent student you'll meet here.” The others had rolled their eyes, used to this kind of behavior from their peers. Becky seemed to be the most annoyed by it. Having been forced to put up with his destructive tantrums in the past. Henry smiled just as warmly as before. Unbothered by the obnoxious behavior that the boy had been displaying. Tobey had been going on about himself for a good few minutes before the teacher finally spoke up. “Ahem, yes. Thank you for that Mr. McCallister. Would anyone else like to tell me a bit about themselves as well?” No one could tell that behind the facade, Dr. Henry Jekyll was becoming more irritated by the moment. Not by the child but by the pest that refused to leave him be. Scoffing within his head at what they just heard. He didn't share the disembodied voice's opinion but wanted to give the other children a chance to introduce themselves as well. To the others' shock, Tobey seemed to have taken this well. Quickly going back to his desk with no issues. Becky was relieved at that. Soon the other children had started to introduce themselves to their new teacher with little to no issues. He seemed genuinely nice enough to her. This new teacher didn't seem like most of the adults within this city. Some she had to define words repeatedly for. Dr. Jekyll knew what he was teaching and knew his vocabulary. It was Violet who had brought Becky out from her own thoughts, calling her name. Waving a hand in front of her face. “Becky?” The girl smiled in an embarrassed manner. “Huh? Yes?” Violet smiled, patient with her best friend. “Why don't you introduce yourself now? Nearly everybody else already did.” She had given a surprised expression. Becky hadn't realized that she was so lost within her thoughts until then. She stood up and began speaking. “My name is Becky Boxleitner and I also like libraries,reading and Pretty Princess.” The presence that was grating at the teacher's nerves had deemed this too dull to enjoy. Leaving Dr. Jekyll be to his teaching. Well, getting to know his students. He was happy to see that they were engaged in these activities that were meant to break the ice. Though one student in particular had caught his attention the most. Becky. While she did seem rather bright, there was something strange about her behavior at times. Pausing whatever she was doing at the time to listen in on something. Thinking it went unnoticed. Even once looking alarmed and she made an excuse to go to the bathroom. He had allowed it. Feeling that it would've been better to have let her. It seemed…oddly familiar. As if he had seen that behavior somewhere before but couldn't figure out exactly where from. When the school day was finally over, Becky had gone to go home like the others. Dr. Jekyll had of course stayed behind to set more things up within his new classroom. Making a plan on exactly what he'll actually start teaching the next day. Though, the grating voice had returned to be a thorn in his side. “Come on. Leave this boring stuff alone. Leave it until tomorrow. I've been pent up for far too long. Let's have some fun.” This had earned an eye roll and a loud huff from the teacher. “No, I've got to get this done now. You will have enough time tonight. Just be patient until then.” A shadowy figure formed in front of Dr. Jekyll. A frown on its face. “But this is so extremely dull. I want to stretch my legs. I want to make myself known already.” Dr. Jekyll glared. “And that is precisely why I'm so hesitant to let you out so soon. At least let us get acclimated to our surroundings first.” The figure let out an annoyed groan. “You know you want this as much as I do. Otherwise you'd never have any actual fun in the sad and pathetic life you call yours.”

@thecountoflondonfansite

#rp

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meggannn · 5 months

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hades 2 conversation dialogue my sister and i found interesting

SPOILERS obviously. my sister has been failing her runs on purpose to get more dialogue out of people. this post discusses dialogue that was not in the developer stream.

on hermes (mel and hecate are speaking about hermes and artemis at the start):

on melinoë, artemis, and the olympians:

on why mel is the only one who can kill chronos:

on hecate & mel's relationship:

on a secret order that mel is apart of:

on mel's job at the crossroads:

tension and secrets in the crossroads!!!!

when you give hypnos nectar:

(i wasn't fast enough to get his reply. hypnos says something like "zzzz... welcome to the.... zzzz"), then mel says:

other things i didnt screengrab:

hypnos: mel can remark to charon that hypnos is still asleep, charon says "arrghhh," and mel says "wait, he's of more use this way...?" possibly implying hypnos's sleep is not what it seems

nemesis: is uhhh kind of really mean!!!! she says something to mel along the lines of "you're upset you lost a family you don't remember? i KNEW my mom, all you did was be born"

moros: you can invite moros to the crossroads and he stands near the fated list far from everyone because nobody wants to talk to doom incarnate (odysseus in particular makes a point to say he'll stay away). iirc he introduces himself as "the bearer of bad news" which i find kind of clever but also a bit sad. if you give him nectar iirc he says nobody has given him a gift/offering before. aphrodite also notes that moros has made mel's acquaintance and calls him good-looking.

hephaestus: he criticizes your weapon's workmanship when you first meet him, then later takes it back and compliments it as very good, and says "just don't go spreading it around" to the olympians.

takeaways:

hermes is "missing" but he's on a mission for the war to find out what chronos is scheming

artemis (and hermes) didn't tell the olympians hecate has been raising a titan-killer (mel) and the olympians don't really believe she can do it but send her boons anyway, presumably figuring why not

only mel can enter the house of hades to challenge chronos, so that's why she needs to make this journey alone

hecate is rather sweet and mentorly with mel, but she gets exhausted and irritated when mel doubts herself. i didn't grab it but there's a bit where mel says if hecate had not held back, she knows she would've lost, and hecate snaps "you know?" asking mel why she puts limits on herself

mel, hecate, selene, and artemis are part of a secret order called the silver sisters that hermes also supports. olympus does not know about it. all these gods (save hermes) also have moon iconography in their designs

pretty sure moros will be romanceable. i think his and mel's interactions are very sweet, and aphrodite notes he's arrived and calls him good-looking, which reminded me of how she commented on thanatos to zag. no idea who might be a female romance option yet (i'm assuming there is one)

hephaestus boons are a lot of fun, per my sister

the big one: HECATE AND NEMESIS KNOW SOMETHING WE DON'T??? hecate maybe knew an attack was coming and didn't do anything?? nyx is also confirmed to basically be not around though we don't know where she is. and hecate is something called a handmaiden??? is she meant to serve nyx? it now seems like the children of nyx are meant to serve hecate, and eris isn't doing that, but nemesis is playing guard duty begrudgingly. so maybe nemesis thinks hecate let the house be captured/destroyed for her own ends, possibly also to get nyx out of the picture, so nyx's children would serve her(?). maye nyx is also a silver sister and hecate is now in command at the crossroads/on earth, second only to selene?

#hades 2

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lacedinweb22 · 1 month

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I don't wanna let you go ❦︎

inspired by Enhypen’s “Bills” - Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader (angsty chapter from my Wattpad series Vampire Next Door)

‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱

Miguel’s mother wasn’t gentle. His personality attests to that.

She was abusive, resentful, lacked any empathy, just overall shitty. Not much of a mother at all.

Miguel didn’t thrive at home, but he did thrive at school.

Though he was sarcastic, talked back to any authority (to be fair, he usually had a point), and had a hell of a mouth on him, his teachers gave him the validation his mother didn’t—academic validation.

He was a genius, really, and school was his distraction from the hell hole he lived in.

High school was far too slow-paced for him. And university, he found slightly challenging, but when he looked around to see everybody else was really struggling, having breakdowns, begging for his tutoring, he realized he found his courses quite easy. He realized he was different…

socially and academically.

He’s only ever had three friends, Vel being one of them.

He surprisingly found a friend in the hard-shelled vigilante, an acquaintance, someone he could banter with, argue, fight. They were there for each other.

Is it impossible to turn back time? No time.

So when he realized in addition to you possibly being hung up on some girl you used to live with, his own acquaintance had made a move on you, he came in swinging.

He reflects, remembers:

“I know you already hate me… already don’t trust me, but I need to tell you something else,” you muttered.

“Dios, what?”

“Vel… has been flirting with me. When you left, after she hurt herself, she… she kind of admitted her feelings to me.”

“Vel? Vel. Vel as in Velvet, Vel as in—”

“Yes, Mig. The only Vel we both know.”

“Vel?”

“Oh god.”

“After I cleaned up her messes, after I patched up her knee? After I—”

“I know.”

“And you did what? You said what?”

“I was kind of in shock, and I know— I can’t believe I didn’t see it coming… I just, I said I wanted you, and that’s when she brought her up. She said you were in the way like my roommate’s boyfriend was. Struck a nerve, struck several, so I left.”

One day, the invoice that you stuck on me, the pain that became my share,

He nods.

“Funny. Thought you were still hung up on her, thought you were going to abandon me and move back with her, meanwhile, the only real threat was my own fucking friend. Adds up.”

I’m sure I paid for it.

He shakes his head, forehead resting on his own big hands. He doesn’t look up at you.

****

He realizes he has mommy issues, abandonment issues, every issue in the book really.

Getting closer to you scared him. He worried he was a burden, that you’d have to deal with all of the weight that came with him. But you were reassuring, seemed like you could handle it, like you wanted to handle it.

You made him trust again, made him a better person.

He sits on the fire escape, slouched, head hung in thought.

It takes everything in him not to go to your bedroom window, just right there, he wouldn’t argue, he’d just embrace you. It’ll fix everything he thinks.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he sits, continues to think.

He never really had space for insecurity, or reason for it really, being at the top of the class with no threats ever, made him secure in himself, gave him a strong sense of confidence.

Besides… maybe the insecurity stemming from the rejection and neglect from his mother—but he refused to count that. He accepted their fucked relationship at a young age, and decided he’d become smart, build his way out of there. Fuck her. He didn’t need her. It was a lost cause,

but you, he could never give up on you. He does need you.

New emotions, love, being loved by you, this, however, brought forth a new sense of insecurity.

For once, he didn’t have control over everything, over himself.

He seeks your love, attention, wants to make you feel loved, understood, and the idea that you could find someone else to do that, made him insecure, made his heart race, body temperature hot.

Maybe his mom did have something to do with this, Vel always said so anyway. Maybe for once she was right. He feared you’d abandon him—emotionally, physically—the way the one person in the world who was meant to love him abandoned him.

He wonders how he—

Your window slides open. He turns back to see you. You look exhausted—he hates to think he’s to blame—tired, and still beautiful.

“Y/n.”

“Miguel.”

The sad way you say his name makes his stomach drop. You sit on your window sill, fiddling with your jacket.

“I’ve been thinking.”

I thought about it, it’s not paid.

He looks up at you, desperate to know what you think.

“Maybe… maybe we need a break, maybe we just need time apart,” you say, weakly.

He exhales, like he’s been punched in the stomach.

You continue, “Maybe I’m still not healed from her, and I know—I see that it hurts you.”

You sniffle, tears rolling down. You rest your head against the brick wall.

“I don’t want to let you go,” you sob, gently.

He wants to hug you, but it’ll only make this harder.

The price of parting keeps getting more and more expensive. I just wanna let it go.

Maybe he deserves to be abandoned. Maybe you’ll both hurt less this way.

Why don’t you just let me go?

He wonders if this is permanent, if it’s really the end, but it only makes him feel dizzy. He stands up, wipes the tears he didn’t realize were falling, and gives you one last look,

“If that’s what you want.”

The right price I only learned through tears.

｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱

ughhh angst

anyways yeah shocker I'm an Engene ❀*ੈ go stream Romance: Untold

time-skip chapter coming soon ₊ʚïɞ

#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman2099 #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara imagine #enhypen #engene #enha #enhypen vampire au #bite me #dark blood #miguel x reader #spiderman x reader

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rafesapologist · 1 year

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the set up — rafe cameron; part five

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀): cussing, depictions of violence, TENSION, angst, tw: topper

author's note: hi baby loves, i've been working on some stuff for you guys in the midst of uploading this chapter. i appreciate and love all of your kind words that you have given me during this series thus far ♡ had to cut this one a lil shorter than others as you will see why at the end, but y'all are going to be FED in the next chapter. here's to chapter 5!!

You felt a massive lump in your throat, swearing to yourself that it might've killed you from suffocation if it hadn't gone away. You stood a few feet away from JJ and Pope with your back facing the direction of where the adenoidal voice was coming from behind you. You quite literally felt like a deer in the headlights while you stood there, frozen by the fear that came over you as you looked to your friends with pure panic in your eyes. You knew immediately that trouble had approached you by the irate look in JJ's sapphire colored eyes and the horror in Pope's. You felt a miniscule sense of relief when you realized that the voice adressing the three of you was not that of Rafe Cameron's. You could recognize Rafe's gruff, low-toned voice from a mile away and the one you had heard was not nearly as deep as his.

Topper.

"Y/n, what are you doing with these duds?" Topper taunted with evident intentions to rile up your friends, more specifically, JJ.

"Top," you turned around swiftly, a painfully forced smile plastered onto your face, "I ran into them while I was in line. I just stopped to say hi before I came back over." You prevaricated the loathsome Kook, putting on a euphonious tone to try and impel him by toying with his weak spot for you.

However to your dismay, Topper shook his head at you as he inched closer, "I get that, but you see, we don't really fuck with them, y/n. Especially not Rafe." The blond forewarned of the conflict that was brewing, causing your mouth to go dry and your breath to stagger. It wasn't often you were left speechless, seeing how you always seemed to have an opinion about something, but for once you were utterly tongue-tied under Topper's stare.

"I know, but they're my friends and Rafe knows tha-"

"Whats going on- Y/n? What are you doing?" A thick voice rang throughout your ears, followed by the vision of Rafe coming into your view, a sight that made your heart skip a beat.

"I ran into JJ and Pope while I was in line. I just wanted to say hi." You admitted and your articulation subdued. Heat had began rising to your flushed cheeks, only to be made worse by the scorching heat of the mid-july temperatures and Rafe's daunting glare.

You wanted to crumble into a million pieces at the sound of Rafe's hauntingly dry chuckle emerging from the depths of his throat, almost ominous. You kept your eyes glued up at him as he approached you as the beating of your heart inside your chest sped up faster than ever. It wasn't necessarily for the fact that you were scared of Rafe, but that he was unpredictable and arbitrary at times. The only ones who truly needed to be afraid in that moment was JJ and Pope, which had you on edge.

"Hey Top," Rafe motioned towards his blond acquaintance with a subtle head nod before wrapping an arm over your shoulders and pulling you into his side swiftly, "y/n and I are going to head back over to our seats. You think you got it from here?" His question alerting your attention immediately, causing you to furrow your brows at the lanky boy next to you.

"Yeah I think so, actually Kelce and Ryan are on their way." Topper flashed a small smirk in Rafe's direction, illiciting a nearly sadistic grin to form onto his face. After getting the confirmation from his friend, Rafe began to guide the two of you back over to the spot you were sat at previously, passing by the two Kooks Topper had just mentioned while on the walk back.

"Rafe, what are they doing?" You inquired wearily, shaming yourself for the way your voice cracked when trying to speak.

"They're just talking things out, y/n. Nothing to worry about." Rafe's words sounded sincere but you could tell by that familiar smug smirk on his face that he was being anything but that. You knew his attempt to soothe your nerves was merely half-hearted, not because he didn't care about you, but rather due to the fact that the talk about your fellow Pogue coevals left a sour taste in his mouth.

You kept walking in compliance with Rafe's request to remove you from the situation that was fermenting at the concession stand, but your mind was still racing at the thought of what was happening back there. You knew that if it involved Topper, or any of the Kooks for that matter, JJ and Pope would be in for it. You pondered on the reoccuring thought that those fiendish Kooks might actually end up hurting your friends, and you shivered at the thought of any of them laying a hand on the two boys.

You fought with the notion that they were up to no good for a few moments, however, you feared Rafe would catch onto where your head was at and grow frustrated with you. But nevertheless, you couldn't fight the thoughts that plagued every part of your encephalon. Therefore, just before you lost complete sight of the group of boys a few feet behind, you turned your head over your shoulder to sneak a peek at what was truly unfolding.

Once you had finally got a glimpse of what was going on, you couldn't help but scream.

"JJ! Pope!" You hollered with an unalloyed terror that captured Rafe's attention immediately.

"Shh, hey, hey, y/n?" Rafe placed his hands firmly on your shoulders, blocking your view of the altercation taking place by standing directly in front of you.

"Rafe- I, they're hurting my friends!" You pointed at the sight of both Pope and JJ lying on the ground while a trio of Kooks took turns throwing punches and kicks at their defenseless bodies. You winced as you watched Topper mercilessly send his foot right into the side of JJ's ribcage with force, causing your heart to break internally at the visual once you realized somewhere in that same area a previous bruise lingered there from JJ's dad a week before.

Rafe surveyed your piteous expression as tears began to brim in your eyes that were written over with a dolorous countenance that struck him deeply. Although it had amused him to watch his enemies in such a defenseless state, his merriment was soon erased by the way your hands began to shake and your tumefied lips trembled. He had never seen you in such a state of distress before, a vastly different version of the girl who was always giving him mordant comments and a insouciant demeanor. It began to settle within him that it really did hurt you to see your friends that way.

"Topper! That's enough." Rafe called out, bringing his friends to a fault in unison.

"But Rafe you-"

"I said cut the shit. You've made your point, now lets go." Rafe reaffirmed his position with his demand, causing the rest of the Kooks to remove themselves from your, now, battered friends as they groaned in agony. Rafe's sudden shift in demeanor left you both confused and speechless, wondering why he so suddenly had a change of heart in your friends' fate. But regardless, you were thankful there was some humanity inside of him left.

"Thank you." You whispered barely audibly as you looked up at Rafe as he sent daggers at his friends as they headed back over towards the two of you. You noticed that Rafe's rancorous impression began to soften as his eyes trailed down to meet yours. He huffed in a sense of defeat, a rather sincere appearance taking over his features. His azure eyes flickered between both of yours, looking as if he was in deep thought. You didn't dare to break eye contact with him, however, instead you kept your gaze locked onto him as you awaited his next response.

"You have no idea what you do to me." He muttered out quietly without even blinking. His declaration making your breath hitch in your throat as you stared up at him blankly, rendering yourself speechless once again.

"I don't understand." You voiced in a tremulous manner, one that you mentally cursed yourself for since you seemed so vulnerable against Rafe.

"Did you not see what I just did for you back there?" He retorted, a dry laugh escaping his rose-colored lips.

"For me?" You repeated.

"You really think I gave a shit if they hurt your little Pogue friends? I would've let them finish both of them off if it wasn't for that damn look on your face." Rafe sighed. For once, he had finally broke eye contact with you, leaving you to feel even more confused than you were before. You couldn't entirely wrap your head around why he was doing this, whether this was just some sick game to him or that seeing you so upset genuinely did bother him. Either ways, it was evident that he was uncomfortable discussing whatever it was that he was feeling in that moment, but you were curious, and desired a reason why.

"What are you talking about? I didn't make you do anything, Rafe." You attested, folding your arms in defense.

"You didn't have to," Rafe shook his head, looking down at you with pleading eyes that made goosebumps rise along your skin , "You have this thing about you, y/n. You walk around this island with this attitude that nothing can get to you, like nobody can say shit to you. But when it's just you and me, I see the way you become so fragile, like I'm gonna break you or something." His voice lowered as he closed in the proximity between your bodies, allowing you to feel the heat of his begin to warm yours.

"There's a part of you that's so naive. You take in the world with so much hope, like everything and everyone is fixable, like it's your job to fix them. I bet that's why you cling onto those Pogues of yours, cause you know they're damaged and you relate to it. You wanna fix them like you wish someone did for you." The blue-eyed boy continued, only for his presence to grow increasingly more intimidating than ever before. You picked up on how his voice deepend and his irises began to darken as he looked down on you, a hunger-filled glimmer in his eyes.

"You're wrong." You rejected his accusation although you weren't the least bit convincing. You hung your head low and refused to look up at him while his stare endlessly bored into your soul.

"You know I'm not," Rafe avowed, placing his index finger below your chin gently, forcing you to look up at him as he spoke, "you just don't want to admit it to yourself. You can lie all you want, but I see right through it."

"Even if it were true, what does it matter to you?" You scoffed, feeling a sense of defensiveness as though he was ridiculing you.

"Relax princess, I'm not judging." He chuckled lowly, "I'm saying that I see you for who you are. I mean, I get why you do it, trust me. But for once, why don't you let that wall down? Let me take care of you, instead of you taking care of everyone else for a change." His warm hands began to ghost up your forearms, trailing the places that made your ears ring.

"I don't know, I-"

"I'd make you forget about all that shit in your past," Rafe came down to whisper in your ear, his lips a mere centimeters from touching your skin, "make you feel good for once." He cooed.

You were strong. So very strong in a world filled with gawking men and empty promises. But when you saw that look on Rafe Cameron's face, looking down at you as though he was drunk off your presence, you could've swore your knees were going to buckle right there. You had never felt such an intensity before as you did under the gaze of the blue-eyed Kook, despite having plenty of experience prior to him. But he had much more conviction with his words than anyone else had ever shown you, a credence that you couldn't even deny yourself. You wanted to shove him off and do what your mind was telling you to, but your body and heart said otherwise. You froze right before him, allowing him to take you under his magnetizing spell while his fingers danced along your soft skin. You fought in desperation with your indecorous thoughts with hope that if you ignored them that they would go away, but you for unfortunately mistaken as the feeling of Rafe's touch became more persuasive than the voices in your head telling you to run.

"Can we get out of here?" You asked abruptly, your body full of heat.

"I thought you'd never ask."

taglist (if i forgot u please let me know, i'm trying to keep a list of everyone!): @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #drew starkey #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks #rafe angst #rafe imagine #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction

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gaypiratepropaganda · 9 months

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Izzy's apology in the finale seems to have taken some people by surprise. During the break between seasons, I tried a few times to politely bring up the fact that Izzy was technically abusing Ed. Not because I wanted anyone to stop liking him (you can like a character who's doing abuse! it's not real. who cares), but because I was worried about the reaction when season two came out. I love this show very much and I know how tumblr can get. Most importantly, I love fucked up fictional relationships and cannot abide people making these two boring. So here we go. (I also love lists)

First. Emotional abuse can occur in intimate relationships, family relationships like father and son, or in the workplace (Ed/Izzy triple threat!). Second, it has to be an ongoing thing. Someone doing one of these things once is not abuse. Abuse is a pattern of cruel and frightening behavior in order to control the victim.

(Don't feel bad if you didn't notice this stuff! It's relatively subtle and we're kind of trained to ignore and forgive it, especially from characters like Izzy. I wasn't 100% sure I was right about this either until season two confirmed it. I think a lot of people don't even know what emotional abuse is, at least where I live.)

Below are some pretty solid warning signs (this said "criteria" before but I changed it to be more accurate) for emotional abuse, followed by examples:

•Monitoring and controlling a person’s behavior, such as who they spend time with or how they spend money.

One of Izzy's main motivations in season one was trying to force Ed to act more like his image of Blackbeard. To achieve that, he bullied, belittled, and threatened Ed. He attempted to kill Stede because Ed was spending too much time with him and he felt that Stede was a bad influence.

• Threats to a person’s safety, property, or loved ones

He tried to kill Stede (Ed's loved one) or get him killed several times. Once trying to get Ed to do it himself with the doggy heaven situation, once directly with the duel, and once by calling in the navy.

He didn't directly threaten Ed's safety until episode ten, but he did seem to have Ed convinced that the crew would kill him if Izzy wasn't there to protect him and then when Ed did things he didn't like, Izzy threatened to leave. It's indirect, but has the same result: Ed felt he was unsafe unless he did what Izzy wanted.

• Isolating a person from family, friends, and acquaintances

Izzy seemed to keep Ed isolated from the crew, act as a go-between, and control their perceptions of each other to a certain extent. In the first few episodes, Ed was always shown alone in his goth cabin with Izzy as his only contact. When he started to make new friends Izzy tried to make him kill them.

After Izzy was banished, he secretly sent Ed's ex in to manipulate him and get him away from his new community. Then he got them all arrested, culminating in the deal he made with the English that would have made Ed his prisoner. Not sure that was on purpose, but it was so fucked up I had to mention it.

The bit that really got me, for some reason, was when Frenchie asked after Ed and Izzy told the crew he was sick.

• Demeaning, shaming, or humiliating a person

Izzy is often shown berating Ed and yelling at him. The way Ed reacts suggests to me that he may be used to this kind of treatment from people in general, or from Izzy in particular. He never leaves or asks him to stop, he just takes it.

• Extreme jealousy, accusations, and paranoia

He was so jealous of Ed's relationship with Stede that he got the literal military involved. His explanation to for why Ed enjoys spending time with Stede was that he has "done something to [Ed's] brain." Like, what magic powers do you think he has, Izzy?

• Making acceptance or care conditional on a person’s choices

Izzy made it very clear that he would only support Ed if he conformed to the Blackbeard persona. He also seemed to have Ed convinced that there was no way he could survive without Izzy's support.

I just realized that if you subscribe to the headcanon that Izzy acts as a sort of caretaker to Ed (I do not) then all of this is way more fucked up.

• Constant criticism, ridicule, or teasing.

In season one he criticized everything Ed did, all his plans, even while telling him to come up with more plans. He ridiculed Ed and called him names pretty often: "twat, namby-pamby, insane." Even in season two when he's doing better, most of their interactions consist of Izzy teasing and making fun of Ed for being mopey or in love.

• Refusing to allow a person to spend time alone

I didn't think of this until now, but Izzy is often around when Ed thinks he's alone. He knows about things that happen in scenes he isn't in. Izzy's always sort of lurking, though? And he does it to everyone. So I'm not sure if we should count this one.

• Thwarting a person’s professional or personal goals

He's ok about piracy related goals, but as soon as Ed tried to do something other than that he got so weird about it. "This crew is so talented, why are we even being pirates?" is what got Izzy to threaten Ed. Which is interesting because he was fine with the retirement idea before, when he thought he'd get to be captain.

• Instilling feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness

"insane unpleasant shell of a man merely posing as blackbeard." "I should have let the English kill you. This... whatever it is you've become is a fate worse than death."

• Gaslighting: making a person question their competence and even their basic perceptual experiences.

He called Ed insane and implied that the crew would mutiny if he wasn't there to stop them. This is clearly untrue, as we were already shown that his method of "massaging the crew" consisted of calling Ed half insane and pulling Fang's beard even though Fang hates that. The fact that he calls Ed insane more than once while at the same time trying to get him to act more insane seems like basic gaslighting to me. Then again, Izzy's definition of "insanity" may be like, depression, crying, showing emotions, loneliness, and enjoying softness.

[can't find a gif of this so just imagine Ed in the gravy basket with Hornigold saying "you're worried you're insane."]

Something that wasn't on this specific list but is generally considered part of emotional abuse is manipulation: the use of indirect tactics to change someone's thoughts, feelings, or behaviors in an attempt to influence them for personal gain.

I think Izzy often tries to be manipulative. He's not the greatest at it, but it's the thought that counts. He manages to be surprisingly successful through persistence and repetition.

He's got Ed convinced from the first time we see them that he is useless as a captain without Izzy. That's why Ed feels like he needs him. He tells him that the only thing standing between Ed and a crew constantly on the brink of mutiny is Izzy. Then he tells him that he will leave if he can't live up to his expectations.

He has a pattern of lying to Ed or not telling him the whole truth. He threatens him directly and indirectly in an attempt to influence him and control his behavior. He wants power, whether he gets it by becoming a captain when Ed retires or by making sure Ed remains powerful by any means necessary.

this is what he was apologizing for, along with the years of being terrible to Ed before Stede came into the picture. I never expected him to admit it so clearly like that. He fed Ed's "darkness," poked at his trauma for so long because he needed Blackbeard. It was something they did together, and he enjoyed Blackbeard's dominance and cruelty.

Of course there are other things that can be part of this kind of abuse, like infantilization, silence, and harassment. There are more examples of abusive behavior from Izzy at the start of season two, especially in the scene where Ed's asking Izzy to kill him. but I am not ready to get into that right now.

Anyway, Ed and Izzy's storylines in season two only make sense to me with this in mind. Ed is recovering from not only the suicide attempts but also this fucked up situation he was in, whether he realizes it or not. Izzy learns to stop being such a shitboy and admits he was wrong. ~growth~

if you interpret their relationship differently that's obviously fine. but I think this is the most interesting interpretation, as well as what was intended. It's no fun for me when people make them both equally awful to each other. I like it better as it is in the show: Ed fighting back against Izzy's emotional abuse with physical violence, which only ends up traumatizing him further. It's such a unique and fascinating story.

#our flag means death #Ed Teach #izzy hands #ed/izzy #blackbeard #ed/stede #tw abuse #abuse cw #@piratecaptainscaptainpirates #I should have posted this a long time ago but #I was kind of afraid you guys would kill me lmao #I think we're good now #we can talk about this #if you think of anything else I'll add it #one more thing I didn't know how to fit in here #is the way Izzy really wants Ed to be violent #to other people but also to him #when Ed doesn't want to do that #and is specifically triggered by being violent #also the first thing that really made me go #hey wait a minute #about Izzy was when he apologized to Ed for calling him a 'shell of a man' while he was 'leaving'#Ed said 'no. you were right. about all of it.'#and then Izzy immediately went back to being a dick to him two episodes later #reminds me so much of what one of my friends went through #wow this is so long

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halosdiary · 3 months

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somnolent | Mermaid!Choso x Fisherman!Reader | 呪術廻戦

a/n: Aww yeah! Plot twist and part 3! This is gonna STIIING.

contains: Choso being Choso, hypnosis, implied murder, obsession

wc: 2k

You both were just staring at each other, in the middle of the town square. People were coming and going. It felt like time stopped between them. He looked at with those beautiful dead brown eyes. You feel like you were in those silly romantic scenes where the main character has a "love at first sight" scene. You snap out of at and looked at him curiously.

"You..I'm sorry, have we met before?"

The man looked a little hurt. He couldn't believe you didn't remember him. All he did was gently stroke your cheek. His hand was cold and wet, he loved the way you felt. But he couldn't blow his cover, for his family's sake, for his sake.

“No…we’ve never met.” He sadly answered you.

He continued to walk away from you. You stood there curiously, you can't shake that feeling of that mysterious man. You didn't see where he went, but it was like he disappeared. Choso looked back at you from the sea, his appearance changing more aquatic like. Unfortunately, this became an annoying routine for the both of them, you bump into each other, but avoid each other like the plague. This separation was driving then man crazy. Every second he was away from you was driving him crazy. He didn't realize it, but he was slowly growing an obsession with you.

Choso wanted to speak to you, but needed a little help. He LOATHED, seeing you just socialize with others like you. Potential dates? Nope, you'd find out they just vanished, but you did find some gifts left behind, for you. Theu were sweet, kind and from the sea?

You couldn't tell, but you felt like you've seen him before. But you don't know where. You placed a finger on your chin, tapping it like you were thinking. All he could do was look at you.

"You just look..familiar to me." Was all you could muster.

“Maybe we were acquainted in a past life…” He says to you.

Past life? What did he mean by that? This was the only life you knew of, born on land, still living your best life. There was something off, about him. This man was a bit aloof, but you couldn't deny he was really cute.

"Maybe." You answered.

You two parted ways once again, the next time you two would meet. You'd talk would talk to him again. Funny enough, Choso didn't mind this at all. He was just in high spirits he's talking to you. A week passes back and you two meet again. The awkwardness had to end at some point. You slowly turn to leave,but he gently reached out to you.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Choso asks you.

"Yes?" I look at him with curiosity in my eyes.

“Have you ever been in love?”

"...I have." You said honestly, with a bit of a sad smile.

You then look back at him, seeing as his eyes were very curious for me. You try to make the sad feeling go away, but he can feel it.

"Sometimes, it doesn't last forever. But that's just me."

He’s taken aback by your look of melancholy. Choso can’t help but wonder about the reason behind your sorrow.

“You still seem to miss whoever it is you loved.”

"Not really, only the happy memories. Before they became what they became. Something unrecognizable."

I clenched my sweater a bit, looking off into the distance. Those happy memories on replay in my mind, but I soon snap back to reality.

"I'm sorry, I'm guessing you wanna know what falling in love feels like?"

He studies your face, looking for any hint of deceit, but all Choso sees is a somber sincerity. He nods.

“Yes, I want to know what it feels like. Love and emotions in general are foreign concepts to me…so I’m merely curious.”

"That's alright." You sit by a near bench and offer him a seat.

"Falling in love, well? I don't really know how to put it." You say to him with a small laughter.

He sits down next to you, his gaze unwavering, and listening intently to your every word. He remains silent, inviting you to continue.

"I do know. It feels like you're flying. All you can really think about is that person and that person alone." You continued on.

"You feel your heart skip a beat whenever they're near by." You blush a bit.

You always remembered how this feeling was. It felt euphoric, blissful. I unintentionally lie my hand on top of his.

Choso flinches when you place your hand on top of his, the unexpected gesture causing his heart to flutter. For a brief moment, Choso’s eyes widen before he quickly composes himself, his expression returning to the stoic look he always wore. He felt something strange stirring within his chest, a mixture of confusion and surprise. He was trying extremely hard not to focus on your touch.

“And then what happens?”

"Well? That's up for you do decide. If the feelings mutual it's the most wonderful thing in the world. If not? It will hurt, but it won't damage you if you let it."

He slowly exhales, trying to keep his breathing steady as you continue to touch his hand. The flutter in his chest is only growing more intense each passing second, the longer your hand remains on his.

“And that’s it? Those are the only feelings associated with it? Feeling like you’re flying? Your heart skipping a beat?”

You nod at him. You didn't know this pang you were feeling. Again, something about this man was all too familiar. But he was really nice to talk to.

"It's like finding your other half. That other half making you feel whole."

Each of your words seemed to send a jolt through Choso’s body, as though your explanation of love was creating a physical effect on him. He couldn’t deny the strange reaction your words and touch was having on him. He suddenly wanted to remove his hand from yours, but something was stopping him. His eyes slowly traveled down to where your hand was resting on top of his. He tried to ignore how gentle your touch was, and how his own hand seemed to subconsciously curl into yours.

You finally realized you had my hand on top of his. You slowly removed it and apologized to him. This must've made him feel awkward. You didn't mean to make it weird. The absence of your touch seemed to leave him feeling colder than before. He flexed his hand once, allowing his fingers to spread out like yours previously had. He tried to ignore the strange pang in his chest as a result of the loss of your touch, and also the urge he now had to reach out for your hand again. But Choso kept his hand firmly planted on his lap.

“You don’t have to apologize…I didn’t mind it.” Choso stated.

It was silent, his did feel cold, but it also felt comforting. I could feel my heart skipping a beat. I slowly placed my hand on top of his hand once more. The instant your hand made contact with his once more, it took all the strength Choso possessed to suppress a shiver that wanted to run up his spine. He suddenly found it difficult to look at you, and a light pink blush dusted his cheeks. He slowly moved his fingers to intertwine with yours, his heart thudding so hard within his chest, Choso feared it would burst.

You giggled at how flushed he'd become. It really was a big softie, despite his melancholic look.

"Well, look at that. You're blushing." You teased him.

He scowls in embarrassment, trying to ignore the way your teasing made his chest ache. He wanted to pull away, but that would mean having to pull away from your touch again, and even just the thought of it made him hesitate.

“Shut up…I’m not blushing.” He retorted.

"Are you sure about that?" You raised a brow at him, along with giving him a smirk.

He refused to look at your face now that you were giving him that goddamn smile. It sent a jolt straight through him, and it had his stomach doing flip-flops. Choso let out a shaky exhale, attempting again to keep his breathing from becoming uneven.

“Yes, I’m sure.” He lied.

"Y’know despite these little run ins. It's really nice talking to you." I admitted to him.

He finally musters the courage to meet your eyes once more, though his cheeks had now reddened a bit more from your comment. He subconsciously tightened his grip on your hand, the feeling of your skin against his making Choso’s heart flutter. He tried to keep his breathing steady as he gave you a nod in response.

“I’ve enjoyed talking to you, as well.”

You look down at his hand as he holds onto it a bit tightly. You couldn't help but feel my face heat up as well. You could feel your heart flutter rapidly.

"Can you feel it?" You asked him quietly.

He couldn’t help but notice the color rising to your cheeks, finding it strangely satisfying to know he was able to make you blush like he had been. Choso was fully focused on you now, his gaze unwavering, as his thumb gently stroked the back of your hand.

“Feel what?”

"That floating feeling I told you about?" I asked him.

I didn't let go of his hand, gently rubbing my thumb on his hand. I looked in the distance, seeing trees and leaves being blown away by the wind.

Choso subconsciously held his breath as your thumb began stroking his own, his heart threatening to give out at the feeling. The fluttering in his chest had only increased from your touch, and he suddenly felt more than a little lightheaded. Even so, he didn’t pull away. He just allowed himself to feel the way he was feeling, though it was completely foreign to him. Choso swallowed the lump in his throat, his voice coming out a bit shaky.

“Yes…I feel it.”

"That feeling of feeling completely whole?" I continued to ask him.

He could feel the heat on his face burning up, no doubt causing him to look like a complete fool, but he didn’t care. Not when you were sitting here talking like this to him, while your hand was still wrapped up in his. The feeling of your thumb grazing his skin made every inch of him feel like it was on fire, and the way his heart was wildly thumping in his chest was enough to make him dizzy.

“Y-Yes…I feel it. It’s hard to concentrate when you do that, though…”

"Don't overthink it." You gently take his hand and looked into his eyes. For some reason, you couldn't stop smiling at him.

He couldn’t help but shiver from the feeling he got when you held his gaze. He was hyper-aware of every point of contact between the two of you, and the urge to reach up and touch your face was almost too much to bear. His face reddened even more, and he found himself returning your smile with a small but warm one of his own.

“I’m not…overthinking it.” He said in a shaky voice.

"Alright. I don't want you to feel pressured." You stated.

I continued to look in the distance. Still holding his hand, you slowly leaned on his shoulder.

His brain stopped functioning and his heart stuttered when you suddenly rested your head on his shoulder. Choso felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. But he quickly adjusted, and slowly relaxed the tension in his shoulders. He even let his head rest against yours, feeling a strange sense of serenity wash over his body.

“I feel anything but pressured…” He muttered to you.

This was his dream come true. They're both talking to each other. You're holding his hand, and even accepting his gifts. He looked into the distance as he smiled. Unfortunately all good things turn back, he wanted to love you. He looks into your beautiful eyes. Your beautiful hypnotized eyes.

TAGLIST: @ryomens-vixen @littlemochabunni @littlemochabunni @bleach-your-panties @blkkizzat @buttercupblu

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #halo's writings #choso #choso kamo #呪術廻戦

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