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fordaryl · 11 months ago

Text

REMEMBER.

minors dni. 2.6k words. smut. daryl dixon x fem!reader. protective daryl. hint of size kink. strength kink.

It's easy to forget his strength when his touch is always so gentle. When you're safe, he lets you forget everything he's capable of; the reason you've both made it this long.

Safety lets you forget.

And then—when it inevitably all it all goes to shit again—you remember.

"Get in!" he calls through the wall of bodies separating you. He keeps the attention of most of them, but there's a few stumbling in your direction—too many for you to handle alone. "Now!" he shouts as he takes another growling walker down.

It goes against every instinct you have—to leave him to fight this alone. But this was his domain. This was when you did whatever the fuck he told you to do. It was how you survived.

You drag the door of the container open, grunting as the heavy metal fights back. It's a makeshift prison cell, one that was supposed to be filled with live bait for the walkers. It would be if it weren't for Daryl. He was almost single-handedly dismantling whatever fucked up enterprise you'd both stumbled upon.

One of them reaches you before you'd manage to push the gate open enough to slip through.

One is fine. You can handle one.

Turning around to deal with it gives you a split second to check in on Daryl. He's making a dent in the mass of bodies, but it's not enough. Not with the shouts of the living making their way closer.

You kick the walker you've knifed back into the mass of bodies approaching, giving you just enough time to slip through the crack you've made in the sliding door and slam it closed behind you.

Locking it is another story.

You have no hope of accomplishing that.

Still, it's enough for now. It's enough to let Daryl keep his focus where it needs to be as you deal with as many as you can through the bars.

Then one gets shot down. Daryl, is your first thought. But then two are shot down at once. And then the voices reach your ears. Voices are bad. Walkers you can handle. The living was another story. Nothing stoked the fear constantly simmers in your gut like the voices of the living.

They shout over each other, calling directions as they pick off the mass with a spray of bullets. You can't see Daryl anymore. He's either dead or hiding.

Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.

You shift back into one of the dark corners of the container as the shouts draw nearer.

“What the fuck happened?! Don't shoot them you dumb fucks! Get any you can back into holding!”

Any second now... any second they'd find Daryl and your world would end. The living were different. The living were monsters of a different kind.

"They're bunched up around this one!" someone shouts.

You hold your breath.

"Well check it out then!" another demands.

Oh, fuck. You grip your pistol. Your aim was decent. You could take one out, maybe two. But there's a whole group... and they were coming for you.

You scramble to the other far corner as the last of the walkers are cleared from the entrance, hoping to take advantage of the darkest shadows. Daryl would be watching... waiting. Any extra moment you could give him could be vital.

"You better come out now," a man calls from outside. He's just out of your sights, prepared for you to be armed and ready to fight. You'd hoped to have the element of surprise. "I ain't asking."

You know what'll happened when they find you. It's the same thing each time. You're prey to people like these—something to hunt in a world without consequences for that kind of thing.

Your silence buys you less than a minute before the first of them are dragging the metal gate open. If you shoot, they'll shoot back. It's not something you'll survive cornered like this. So you bet on them being the same as the rest. You let them know you're prey.

"Please," you call, as meek and afraid as you can manage—vulnerable. Not a threat. "I'm—I'm unarmed."

Then a bright light blinds you.

"What the fuck?" one of them exclaims. Then, "Where'd the fuck this little thing come from?"

There it was. Little. Thing. You were nothing. You're not a threat. You'd bought Daryl more time.

"Come on out, girl. Come on." They call you like you're a dog, something less than human. That's how they see you. Something to use.

You take a small step forward, still blinded by their flashlights. Daryl was alive. He was alive and hiding and he was waiting for something.

You just had to stay alive.

"What do you... want with me?" you ask, still taking tiny steps towards the light. Weak. Vulnerable. No threat.

You get muffled laughter in response. Guards down. Distracted.

"What do we want? We want a little fun, honey. That's all. Just a bit of fun."

They're flash lights drop as you approach the entrance. They've pulled the gate all the way across.

Five. You count five. If you kill two...

"Why is she alone?" one of them questions. He's younger, a little less distracted.

The rest ignore him. Then one of them has you by the arm, dragging you the rest of the way out of the makeshift cell. They're hands send a wave of repulsion through your body as they grab at you, pulling you around and shoving you in front of them. They may as well be the undead the way their touch feels against your skin.

The young one doesn't move out of the way when you reach him. Instead he stares into you, suspicious and angry. "Who are you with?" he asks. Even then, his gun is lowered. Even to him you aren't a threat.

"Get the fuck out of the way," the man gripping your arm says, clearly irritated and impatient.

"But—"

"Now."

His eyes narrow, but then he steps aside—his back pressed to the wall to let the rest of the men past. It's now that you get a look down into the pit of walkers, the one's they've managed to recapture rather than take out. They reach up towards you, hands grabbing for you.

Then, only a few steps later—you're stopped. The man with his hand wrapped around your elbow leans over your shoulder, his rancid breath invading your nostrils as he speaks. "You alone?" he asks. "You tell me right now."

You blink away the burn threatening to pool tears in your eyes. Were you alone? If you were...

The man's grip tightens, the only warning you get before you're forced to your knees and staring down into the pit of hungry walkers. "Speak," he demands, nails carving into your skin. "I'd hate to waste you like this."

There's two other men behind you. Three surrounding you in total. You could take one out for sure. They hadn't even searched you for weapons. They expected nothing out of you at all.

But then there'd be two, only counting the ones in reaching distance. How long would it take the other two further away to aim their guns in your direction?

You were dying tonight if Daryl was dead, that was certain. Your only hope was that he was waiting and watching... but what would he be waiting for...

Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.

You take a deep breath. You could wait to die. Or fight now and hope that's the moment he's waiting for... if he's waiting at all.

The man holding you drops to one knee behind you. He leans over to speak in your ear. You wouldn't need to rely on your aim for the first kill, only any that followed. It was a headstart you weren't likely to get again. You reach for your pistol and before the man can open his lips and taint your senses with his rot once more, you shoot him through the underside of his jaw.

Your ears ring as his body drops. But you were ready. The men behind you aren't.

You were nothing. Prey.

The few seconds that affords you are priceless. You manage to shoot one more through the head before he can get hands on his own weapon.

The third is another story. His gun is pointed at you for what must be milliseconds. They drag though, those moments with an enemy weapon pointed at your head always do.

But then Daryl is there, strangling the man with a rifle and shoving his body into the ground with a force that reverberates through the metal. It's only when he snaps the man's neck you spot the bodies behind him.

He'd been waiting for you.

You watch him stand, hair hanging in his face and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.

Then his eyes are on you.

Then his hands.

Those hands... the same ones he'd used seconds earlier to break a man's neck. His fingers are feathers across your skin as he brushes the hair back off your face. "Okay?" he asks, soft and a little shaky.

You nod.

"You did good," he says, that deep gravel back in his voice. "So good, sweetheart." His hand makes a trail down to your neck, gentle and slow over your pulse point to rest at your clavicle. "We gotta go," he says. "Stay close for me, yeah?"

—————

The first time after is always the same—after you're forced to remember. It adds something to the way his gentle hands feel as he reaches over your hips to dip between your legs. To the way his body feels pressed up behind yours.

His thick fingers slip between your slick folds as he holds you tight against his chest. Heat. It's an overwhelming heat. He crowds you, practically curled around you.

"You like that sweetheart?" His voice is almost sweet as his lips graze your ears and his long hair tickles your skin. "Huh? You like that?"

You nod with a small whine, pressing your hips back into him—desperate.

He sighs, finger prodding over and over at your swollen entrance—a teasing little hint of what's to come. He dips in slightly, his calloused fingertip pressing into your slippery, spongy entrance just enough to have you whimpering his name.

"Fuck," he grunts. "You need me here? Huh? You all fuckin' empty?"

"Yeah," you whine with a desperate nod. "Empty."

His grip around your ribs tightens for a moment before he's pressing you into the ground—cushioned by the few blankets you carry. He's rolled you onto your belly as he covers you completely, his warmth seeping into your skin from his calves to his hot breath on your neck.

"What do you need?" he asks. As if he doesn't know; as if he didn't always know.

"You."

"Hm?" he hums, sweet and coaxing. "How?"

You reach blindly to find his wrist, gripping it firmly. "Hold me tight," you gasp between jagged breaths. "Please... Please."

His weight is heavy over you as he drops his lips to your neck, a silent acknowledgement of your pleas.

Then he's scooping you up, lifting you and rearranging you exactly the way you want him to. Because he fucking knows.

He has you pressed to his chest with your tits against his skin as he lays back into the makeshift bed you've created for the night. His arms wrap around you, one across your shoulder blades and the other around your waist—secure and firm. His fingers press sporadically into your skin a little more than needed, like he's testing his grip on you; like he's testing he has you in his arms good and tight.

Then he hooks one leg under yours, a gentle guide to part your legs just the way he needs.

"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he breathes against your temple as one of his hands leaves you. It's temporary, you remind yourself. He'd be wrapping you up securely as soon as he'd buried himself deep; once his cock was guided safely into your throbbing cunt.

You nip at his neck in response, chasing with a delicate lick at his salty skin. "Please," you ask softly.

Then he's adjusting you against him a little, ensuring you're exactly where he needs you to be. "I got you," he says as his leaking tip prods at your entrance. "Got you," he repeats. He mumbles this way as he teases; as he plays. This was what he did: pushed you to the brink of desperate sobs as he guides his cockhead over your slippery, throbbing cunt... over and over.... and over...

Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.

Then, eventually, he slips inside. Just the tip.. and not far. Just enough so that he can wrap his arms around you again. Just enough that he can have you whimpering his name as he prevents you grinding down to take him deep inside.

This is when he gives you a hint of his strength. It's easy to keep you from your goal, his strong arms pressing you into his torso a little harder each time you attempt to resist.

He keeps you there, just with a taste of that fullness—a taste of having him as close as it was possible to be. "Kiss," he says, simple and a little croaky.

You obey, pressing your desperation between his lips. It's messy and interrupted by moments where you simply need to breathe, heavily—his lips chasing yours as you attempt to catch your breath.

"Daryl," you gasp eventually. "Now. Please."

His grip around you tightens a little as you drop your face to his neck.

Then he pulls you down to meet his cock, to fuck himself deep. It's hard, exactly like you need it—exactly the way he knows you want it. You bite into his neck weakly as he keeps you there, stuffed full—the thick throbbing length of him stretching you out so completely.

Then, "Like that?" he asks, that sweetness back in his voice—like he's offering you a gentle back massage instead of holding you down on his cock.

You nod weakly in response.

His fingers press into your skin moments before he's moving, fucking himself with your cunt as he pulls you down to meet his messy thrusts. You're completely pliant like this, all control relinquished.

He's got you.

His breathing is quickly transformed into uneven pants as he attempts to grunt broken sentences into your ear. "Sucking me in... sucking at my cock with your messy little cunt... aren't you, baby? Hm?"

One of his hands moves to your hair occasionally, a temporary and seemingly subconscious attempt to get a better grip—or just to hold you closer. His fingers tangle in the strands, never tugging hard—never hurting.

"My girl," he grunts. "My needy little girl."

It's only when he's nearing his end that he flips you onto your back and you get a real display. He grips your hips and tugs you down to meet him as he uses you, each thrust a slapping of skin and punching a helpless sound from your lungs.

Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.

"Daryl," you gasp. "Daryl, fill me. Please."

His fingers dig a little more into your skin, his hair falling over his eyes. Then his lips part, a grunt... a broken, "Fuck."

He falls over you as he floods you, his cock twitching and pumping you full—just like you asked. But even then, even as he loses himself, he catches his fall—arms landing either side of your head to cage you in. "Got you," he gasps out between desperate lung fulls of air. "I got you."

#daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd x reader #daryl dixon x reader #x reader #daryl imagines #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #mine: daryl dixon

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kooggukk · 2 months ago

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sinful taste | jjk

summary. things get out of hand when you meet with your ex at a party.

pairing: cheater!jk x reader

contains: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, drunk sex, car sex, no happy ending ;(

word count: 3.1k

the party hummed with energy, music thumping through the packed space as people flowed in and out of the kitchen, joining more young adults in the living room and backyard, laughing and talking. totally unaware of a pair of eyes watching you the whole night, you enjoyed your time with your friends.

you stood at the doorframe of the kitchen, your arms crossed over your chest as you watched your best friend hit on a guy. she was showing you how a pro actually does it — because looks like you suck at it and she hinted at your ex boyfriend, who was a cheater.

you saw her twirling her hair and blinking with her long fake eyelashes, a chuckle left your lips. no way you were gonna do something like that on a man.

your eyes suddenly dropped to someone behind her, you hadn’t expected to see him here. after everything that had happened between you two, you had sworn you’d moved on. but the second your eyes met his, everything you’d been holding in — the hurt, the anger, the longing — came rushing back.

he wasn’t supposed to look at you like that. not after what he’d done. not after he shattered your trust, broke your heart, and left you to pick up the pieces. yet there he was, standing in the dimly lit corner, his eyes tracing your every move, filled with that same intensity that had once made you fall for him.

you knew better now. you knew that behind that look was a mess of lies, secrets, and betrayal.

how could you forget all that happened when he was fucking someone else in your house, on your goddamn couch.

not being able to stay in the same room as him, the air felt thick and filled with tension. you walked out, in front of the house where not many people were.

you sat down on the stairs that led to the porch, you knew he was behind you. “can we talk?” his voice was low, almost pleading as he sat down next to you, a beer in his hand.

god, you haven’t talked to him in like, 2 months. not ever since you kicked him out of your house, along with the girl he was balls deep in.

you shrugged, you left because you in fact did not want to talk, but he’s selfish. even if you said no, he will talk.

“i know i messed up,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “i didn’t mean to d—“

“you cheated, jungkook.” your harsh voice interrupted him, his brows crashed together at that.

his eyes darkened, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. he ran a hand through his raven hair, frustration clear in his posture.

“why won’t you just fucking let me speak?” he asked and he took a sip of his beer, you scoffed at his words.

“cause you fucked a whore on my couch, jerk.” his jaw clenched at your tone, he suddenly threw the bottle of beer away, anger flooding through his body.

you watched him with surprised eyes when he stood up and turned around to leave, without glancing back at you and saying a word.

your heart clenched at that once more, maybe you were harsh, yes. but he deserved it, after all the shit he put you through.

the night went on, you saw him a few times with his friends. you tried your best to ignore him, you put all your attention to your best friend. you told her what happened, and she hasn’t left your side since then.

you stumbled out of the house to get some air, struggling to keep your balance after a few too many drinks.

someone walked past you with the same struggling, almost pushing you over. a few mumbled cuss words left his mouth.

your eyes squinted, jungkook drunkly leaning on his car. “kook?” you called out to him when you walked over.

he struggled to open his car door, your eyes widened in realisation. “you don’t wanna drive, do you?” you said, your voice shaky.

he scoffed and finally opened his door. “why does that matter to you?” he spit the words out, hurt was obvious in his voice.

you stood there, staring at him. he was right, why do you care? he’s your asshole ex boyfriend, you’re supposed to not give a damn and encourage him to just go.

but you care. maybe a bit too much. “i’m just gonna lay in the back seat.” he sighed and plopped down, his head hitting the leather seat. the world was spinning with him, he was wasted.

you sat down on the other side of the backseat, the car’s silence was much quieter than the blasting music inside the house.

your eyes locked on his figure, head thrown back and eyes closed. you swallowed, your vision dropped to his jawline, sharper than ever.

you knew you should be angry at him for cheating on you, but you couldn't deny the attraction you still felt towards him. you quickly looked away as you noticed you were checking him out.

“why are you here?” his husky voice suddenly broke the silence in the car. you turned to look at him, brows furrowed.

you don’t know. you want to leave, so bad. but there was a time when it was only him and you. when you were in love. he was somebody in your life and even if you wanted to, you can’t watch him destroy himself tonight like that. what if something happens?

“do you not want me here?” he chuckled and shook his head. “you don’t answer to a question with a question, babe.”

you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the rush of emotions that hit you all at once. that nickname had once been so familiar, a sweet whisper on his lips when everything between you was easy.

now, it felt like a jolt to your chest, a reminder of what you’d both lost, yet still lingered between you.

“i missed you,” he suddenly confessed, his voice soft, almost vulnerable. “i’ve been thinking about you,” he sadly smiled.

“every day.” he finished his sentence, your heart felt heavy. he missed you? fucking asshole, he messed this up.

you wanted to say something, anything, but your throat tightened.

you felt his hand rest on your knee, it sent a shiver down your spine. you looked at him again, his eyes already locked on you.

you stared down at his hand on your knee, his touch burning through the fabric of your jeans. your body betrayed you, that familiar warmth creeping through you despite everything he had done.

you should pull away, you should tell him to get out of the car, out of your life, once and for all. but you didn’t move.

you closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but when you opened them, he was still there — his hand on your knee, his eyes full of regret and hope.

and despite everything, you couldn’t deny the pull between you, the unspoken connection that still lingered even after all the pain.

your heart pounded in your chest, torn between the past and the present, between anger and desire. and as his lips hovered near yours, you knew this was a choice only you could make.

your heart screamed at you to pull away, to leave before you let him in again, before you gave him another chance to break you. but your body leaned in, caught between the pain of the past and the heat of the present.

his fingers slid higher, resting on your thigh, his touch firm but tentative, as if he wasn’t sure you’d let him stay. you swallowed hard, every nerve in your body on high alert.

his eyes flickered with something raw and desperate, and he stayed still for a moment, searching your face for any sign of what you really wanted.

then, slowly, he closed the distance, his lips brushing yours in the softest kiss, hesitant, like he was giving you the chance to stop him.

the second his lips met yours, something inside you broke free. all the frustration, all the hurt, all the desire you’d been pushing down for months surged to the surface, and you kissed him back, hard, pulling him closer like he was the only thing that could keep you stable.

his hand tightened on your thigh, the other slipping around your waist, pulling you closer to him as if he was terrified you’d slip away.

the kiss was urgent, full of the need that had been building up between you for so long. you could taste the alcohol on his lips, but it didn’t matter.

jungkook groaned softly against your mouth, the sound sending a rush of heat through you. his hand slid up your side, he deepened the kiss, his body pressing into yours.

you gasped against his lips, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more.

his hand now rested on your stomach, caressing you softly before he sneaked his hand under your blouse, the skin to skin contact made your skin burn.

he slipped his hand under the top of your jeans, your pantie touching the tip of his fingers. he felt the little bow resting on top of it, a smile crept onto his lips as he kissed you.

he then suddenly moved his hand back up, sliding up your stomach. he didn’t stop until your covered left breast was in his palms, slowly massaging it.

you gasped at his touch, he slipped his tongue in your mouth as he explored it. your tongues fighting, sucking and kissing it.

he pulled away while he slightly bit onto your lower lip, pulling it with him. you whined, touching your lip as he let go of it.

“ow,” he smiled and gave it a short kiss again. “sorry,” he whispered, his head lowered to your neck.

he kissed and nibbled on the sensitive spot, your head tilted to give him better access to it, better access to claim you.

he pulled away only to pull your blouse over your head, his head falling to the top of your breasts instantly, leaving wet kisses on them.

without a word, you reached behind to unclasp your bra, the straps falling down your shoulders.

“hi beautiful,” he said when he was met with your bare breasts, “missed me?” he asked with his eyes locked on yours. his mouth found one of your nipple, twirling his tongue around it.

he watched your expression, your mouth slightly agape at the feeling. he tugged on your jeans, you understood him in an instant.

you moved your hips only to pull them down, his hand found it’s way to your clothed heat, softly palming you.

“wet already?” he asked when he switched to your other nipple, giving it the same attention.

you cursed at him with a low voice, your hand reached to his crotch.

“hard already?” you fought back, a chuckle left his mouth when he pulled away. “yeah, couldn’t help it. you’re damn hot.” he grinned at you.

before you could reply to him, his hand slipped under your pantie, his fingers played with your bare clit. a low moan left your lips at the familiar feeling, it’s been long since you’ve had sex — or touched yourself. not since you broke up with him.

he pulled off the only clothing (pantie) still covering your body, completely naked in front of him. he could swear he drooled at the sight of you.

he realized he was still entirely in his clothes. he quickly undressed himself, his hardened cock sprang free. you couldn’t help but to drop your vision to it, completely forgot how beautiful it looked.

he got closer again, his hand quickly back to where it was. he played with your wet folds, spreading it nicely. two of his fingers slowly entered you, your hands gripping his biceps.

“fuck,” you breathed heavily, the sudden stretching was uncomfortable. you weren’t used to this, after months of not being sexually active, this was like the first time again.

his eyes never left your face, making sure you were okay. he pulled his fingers back out, only to push them back in, curling them at the end.

your mouth fell open, embarrassing or not but you could swear you were already about to let go only from that.

you clenched around his fingers as he fastened his pace, a groan left his mouth when your hand gripped his cock.

you jerked him off slowly, sometimes stopping, too distracted from the pleasure he was giving you.

he suddenly added a third finger, stretching you even more. fuck, was that needed? the last time you remember having sex with him, he only did two. did he grew?

you haven’t noticed any change at the hold of his cock, but maybe because it felt new to you again.

he pounded his fingers into you, your wet juices made a squishy sound fill the car, along with heavy breathes, your low moans and his occasional groans.

“kook-“ you bit onto your lip, you were near. he knew it, your eyes shut, brows crashed together and your hand stopping jerking him off exposed you.

“let go,” he whispered, his lips leaving kisses on your neck once again. you whimpered, your thighs closing and body shaking as you came around his fingers.

it may have been bigger than before, due to not experiencing it for some time. he pulled his fingers out, the empty feeling made you sad.

you watched him lick his fingers clean, then leaning in to kiss you. “you did so good,” he praised you, his voice suddenly soft again.

you let a breathy giggle out at that, “do you wanna go further?” he asked, his fingers caressing the skin on your sides.

you looked at him with your soft eyes, he cared. you don’t know why that surprised you, he always cared when making love to you.

“yeah, do you?” he frowned, glancing down to his dick. “what do you think?” he asked with a grin, your cheeks turned red.

“come here,” he gently spoke as he pulled away and leaned in the seat. he pat his bare thigh, signaling you to sit on him.

your heart picked up it’s pace, the sight of his naked body — god, his cock laying on his stomach that stopped just under his belly button, it was so breathtaking. his beauty was on another level.

“what?” he asked with a smirk, you were just staring. “like what you see?”

you smiled and climbed on top of him, “yeah, a lot.” you grabbed his cock, placing it on your entrance.

“you minx,” he groaned, the feeling of your bare pussy touching his dick made his body full of goosebumps.

growing impatient, he suddenly lifted his hips, entering you. your mouth fell open, hands on his buff chest. he stretched you even more this time, your walls continuously clenching around his length.

he pulled you down by your neck to kiss you, relaxing your body to help him slide inside more easily. both of you let out a content sigh when he completely filled you up.

“gimme a minute,” you whispered, your forehead fell to his chest as you tried to steady your breathing and get used to him.

he stroked your back, his touch soft. “everything alright?” he planted a tender kiss on the top of your head.

you hummed, sitting in one place for some more time. ��oh, fuck,” he moaned out when you got up and slammed back down out of the blue.

his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight and close — to feel you even closer and of course, making sure you don’t fall down.

your arms around his neck, your chests pressed together as you rode him. your pace was slow at first, gentle as you still got used to it.

it all felt intimate, maybe too much. you were exes, a hookup isn’t supposed to feel so … romantic. for a moment it felt like nothing changed, but you knew it was completely different.

maybe this could be called as a ‘sorry i fucked another whore’. you clenched around him at the thought of that again, but it went away as quickly as it came when he slapped your ass.

the sound echoed in the car, a moan was muffled by his lips on yours. his mind was filled with thoughts too, he missed having you like this.

it was like a dream to him, fucking you raw again after such a long time of no contact. your bodies were covered in sweat, you stopped kissing when he looked down at your bodies meeting.

the way you were bouncing and grinding on his cock was a sight he for sure will never forget. he threw his head back, a hiss left his mouth when you sucked on his neck.

“oh, ___,” he moaned out, it was whiny. he felt your walls tighten, you liked it a bit too much to hear him like that.

he looked back up, your eyes locked together as you bounced even more deeper and faster on him, his eyes dropping to your breasts for a second.

he held them in his hands, his eyes back on yours. he pinched your nipple and that was the end of you — your body shook as you came around his cock, clenching around him.

a low grunt left his mouth and he threw his head back again as he came too, filling you up nicely. he knew you were on pills, you have always been.

you both panted heavily, staying still for some minutes. you got off him, he leaned to the passenger seat to take some wet tissues out of the glove compartment.

you mumbled a low ‘thanks’ and you both cleaned yourselves up.

when he put on his shirt, you were already done dressing up. “by the way,” he started and he ran a finger through his raven hair.

you looked at him, “don’t tell this to aerum, please.” you frowned, aerum? who the fuck is aerum?

he awkwardly laughed and scratched the back of his neck at your confused reaction, “aerum, my girlfriend.”

your heart sank at that, of course. why did you even think this will take you both anywhere? you’re not gonna be his side chick tho.

you scoffed and looked away, “right.” he looked at you dumbfounded when you got out of the car, walking away from him.

once a cheater, always a cheater.

#bts #bts jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #bts smut #jungkook x yn #jungkook x reader

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p1utofairy · 2 months ago

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★ how will people feel about you going public with your fp?

NOTE: for entertainment purposes only. take what resonates & leave what doesn't. ⭐️ i always appreciate the feedback so don't be shy. MWAH. enjoy!

PILE 1.

i feel like this relationship is going to cause quite a stir, pile 1. the energy is giving “that should be me!” lmao some people are really going to be mad as fuck. your person is going to treat you like an absolute queen and i’m hearing people scoff like “UGH!” which is crazy cause you might not even know these people, but y’alls relationship evokes this energy out of them. you (or possibly your fp) might have a narcissistic ex lurking in the shadows who constantly watches your social media & keeps tabs on y’alls relationship. it’s really weird, EW. they feel like they didn’t have you the way your person does, and it makes them really fucking jealous – it’s honestly absurd.

they fumbled you and they’re really going to regret it!especially because of how well your fp treats you & prioritizes your relationship. this ex has a BIG ass ego like the way they make everything about themselves is insane?! this person could be a fire sign – i’m picking up on some leo energy. they’re in disbelief that you moved on from them, and found someone wayyyy better that fulfills you in so many ways that they couldn’t possibly measure up to. they might create fake pages or reach out to you repeatedly trying to win you back over…it’s shameful honestly. from the outside looking in, your relationship with your fp is going to look so lowkey + private yet so warm + stable. you or your fp could have scorpio/taurus placements, but i just feel like neither of you are the type to post every single thing you do together on social media but people will know that’s YOUR FP, YOUR FP, YOUR FP! like don’t play!

y’all will make it very known that y’all are a couple, but people will not be all up in the mix because y'all simply don’t want them to be. they’ll see little hints and clues that you’re off the market, but this relationship is for you two, not everyone else. i can see you both posting things like holding hands, dinner dates, taking long walks together, an off guard while one of you is doing something, etc. just cute moments that only show a small glimpse of the immense love you two share on a day to day basis.

PILE 2.

were you split between choosing this pile and pile 1 lol? if so, check out pile 1 as well! there might be some messages in there for you too. now anyways, i’m ngl this is giving me single era vibes. you might have options and even if you don’t…you’re like “is any person really worth going public with?” LOL i get it, i really do. you’re very cautious and want to make sure that you’re not wasting your time on a relationship that you know might not last in the long run – you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment.

if you went public with someone…that means you really are committed like they REALLYYYYY won you over because you don’t pop out with just anybody! it takes a lot of effort to keep your attention, let alone gain your trust to be in a public relationship. i actually think your content with being by yourself right now. of course, you want a partner who can provide you with the best and also be loyal and committed to you.

however, you're willing to wait for that one person instead of wasting your time on others who don't meet those standards. OOOOO did some of my fellow saturnians choose this pile? this energy is amazing like seriously i’m so proud of you! you’re doing the inner work and it’s genuinely going to pay off in the long run. you’re cultivating your own happiness and building up your self-confidence. because of that, you’re going to attract a like-minded partner. you will have your desired reality, pile 2! you don’t live your life based on society’s standards and expectations. you’re on a different vibration and are attracting love, prosperity and abundance towards yourself effortlessly because you refuse to settle for less and put yourself in a box.

i know this reading is about how people will feel about you going public with you fp, but you genuinely don’t give a fuck what people think lol. people won’t even be able to form a proper opinion, because you are genuinely on a different level. i randomly just heard that one nicki minaj video when she’s like “BROKE PPL SHOULD NEVER LAUGH!” lmfaooooo i’m sorry but yeah! once you get everything you always said you would, including your fp, people are gonna be real silent no shade.

PILE 3

um pile 3 why is this energy a bit messyyyy, hold awn?! your relationship with your future partner might be different from what you perceive, or at least that’s how the public views it. take that with a grain of salt, but i feel like this relationship is going to have its ups and downs and it’s going to reflect on y’alls social medias.

you or your future partner might be the type to get emotional and act out by reposting different quotes on your IG story or tiktoks that relate to your situation, might even go as far as posting cryptic messages to allude that you two are on the outs. you and your fp know how to push each other’s buttons, and it honestly can get petty between you both. someone is not fully healed from their previous relationship in this connection & the unresolved baggage is carrying over into this one. idk, pile 3. for some of you this could be a karmic relationship and for others of you this could be baggage on your end that you need to work through in order for you to be in a stable relationship.

there seems to be a lot of wishy-washy energy, and people might perceive your relationship as having a 'one minute they're together, the next minute they're not' type of vibe. also, i’m picking up on a third-party situation where either you or your partner is keeping someone on the back burner without completely closing the door.

honestly, people might be amused by this and say things like, 'OMG, go check [Y/N]’s IG story and go see what [Y/FP] posted,' which only fuels the mind games being played. ultimately, i think this relationship will teach you about healthy boundaries and what you are and aren’t willing to tolerate, especially in public. it’s messy because this third party keeps interfering and amplifying the situation to make it worse. the ball is ultimately in your court, pile 3. you’ll know what to do.

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #p1utofairy #pac reading #love reading #tarot reading

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ofstarsandvibranium · 1 month ago

Text

Beloved Mine

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: Sam sends out an SOS that Bucky isn't in the best mood, so you see him to ease his mind.

Sammy: SOS. he's in a bad mood!

You read over Sam's text and snort. You quickly type out a reply and start to change from your pjs to some appropriate clothing.

On your way to Bucky's, you stopped by his favorite bakery, grabbing his favorite baked goods as well as a wide variety for his people. You also grabbed him a coffee and a drink for you as well.

Sammy: He almost shot the new guy in the foot. Please tell me you're on your way.

You: ETA 10 minutes.

Sammy: THANK GOD.

You giggle and continue to drive to Bucky's family mansion. At the gate, the security guard takes one look at you and immediately lets you in. You give him a pastry in gratitude before driving up the long gravel driveway.

You park beside Sam's car and hop out. The man at the door nods at you, opening the door wide for you to step in. You also hand him a pastry with a smile.

You head towards the back of the house where you hear a familiar, loud distant voice.

The closer you get, the louder the voice. You push through some of the men spilling out of the room until you're inside.

"-HOW MANY FUCKING MEN DO I GOTTA LOSE TO-honey?"

All eyes land to you. You give a sheepish wave, "Hi, sorry, is this a bad time?" You know it is but you feign ignorance.

Bucky sighs, running his hand through his brunette locks, "Just finishing up a meeting."

"Oh, I can wait-"

"No, no. It's fine. Think they all had enough of my shouting," he waves his hand, "Leave, you fuckers!" most of the people scurry out in an instant, not wanting to wait and see if Bucky changes his mind. A small group stay behind, Bucky's closest friends and confidants: Sam, Joaquin, Yelena, and Nat.

You approach them, setting yours and Bucky's drinks in front of him. You open the pastry box in your hands and hold it out to the four, "Take your pick!"

"You're Heaven sent!" Sam exclaims as he grabs a donut and shoots you a wink. You give him a smirk and a nod.

Joaquin grabs a danish, practically stuffing the entire thing in his mouth.

"Did you eat today, Joaquin?"

He shakes his head as he continues to chew the danish. You lift the box higher, "Take as much as you want."

He gives you a grin as he grabs two more pastries and follows Sam out the door.

"Ladies?"

"I'm good," Nat says with a shake of her head in decline.

"Hell yeah, donuts!" Yelena exclaims as she grabs the glazed twists. She hums in delight as she takes a bite, "Thanks, Y/N!"

You chuckle, "You're welcome, Lena."

The two women look to Bucky to see if he needed anything else. Bucky sips his coffee and waves them off and the two file out the door, closing it behind them.

You turn back to Bucky, "Yours are at the bottom," you place the pastry box in front of him.

Bucky's eyes narrow at you, a hint of a smirk on his lips, "Who called you?"

"No one called me."

"So if I check your phone-"

"Technically, Sam texted me. He didn't call me."

Bucky scoffs and shakes his head, "Of course he did."

You walk over to the other side of his desk. He leans back in his chair and you sit on his arm rest, "Bad day?" You begin to run your fingers through his hair and he leans into your touch with a sigh, "Another shipment got intercepted. We lost some guys."

"'M sorry, baby."

"I'm getting real fucking tired of Hydra. And none of my people can find shit out! Anytime they snag one of their guys, they kill themselves before we get any answers. Fucking cowards."

You wrap your arms around Bucky's bulking frame, "You'll figure it out. You always do. Besides, I'm sure Lena and Nat have something cooking, right?"

"Supposedly, but they won't tell me what yet. They're trying to iron out the details."

"Just let them handle it in the meantime. Now, how about a treat?" you grab one of the pastries that you know he loves and he takes a bite. He moans at the taste and his shoulders drop in relief.

He washes it down with his coffee and he looks at you with shining blue eyes, "You really know how to make a guy feel loved, honey."

You giggle, and wipe some crumbs off his chubby cheeks, "Well, duh, I do love you," you peck his lips, "Ease up on everyone, will ya? I know things are tense, but they're all doing the best they can. You can't afford to lose more people."

He slowly nods, "You're right. Fuck, you know, maybe you should step down and take over, hm?"

You throw your head back and laugh, "Oh, please, I'd run your family into the ground! No one would listen to me-"

"Baby, a majority of my people listen to you already."

"...I don't know how to lead people or how the inner workings of all this," you gesture around you, "goes."

Bucky shrugs, "I can teach you. Besides," he takes your left hand, thumb grazing over the diamond ring on your finger, "you should start learning some things anyway."

"Let me just live in ignorant bliss until after the wedding, Barnes," you pat his plump cheeks and he grins at you, eyes soft and full of love.

#bucky x reader #chubby!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #mob boss au #mob au #mafia au #marvel au

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aquaticmercy · 29 days ago

Text

Waste a moment / Part 3

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by : @remoony

Word count : 2.5k

Note : I’ve got so many people requesting to be tagged and for that I love you all! Please let me know if you wanna be tagged! P.s. I am just about to watch Agatha and I’m so nervous and excited at the same time!

Series Masterlist

“The Wandering Man”

Tuesday night.

When you got to Bucky’s place, it was quiet.��

Too quiet.

The lights were too dim, the air felt too still. The apartment had been waiting for something, or someone, to breathe life into it.

Bucky led you inside without saying much, only a few words of reassurance, and a few how are you holding up?s here and there.

He showed you to the guest room, small but comfortable and cosy. A soft bed was tucked into the corner under a window that overlooked the city lights. It felt both safe and strange, for reasons you could not quite comprehend yet.

You stood there, unsure of what to do with yourself. You didn’t know if you were supposed to feel relieved, maybe grateful? All you felt was confusion.

Before long, he returned with a familiar-smelling cup of tea. It was your favourite tea, even though you could not recall ever telling him before.

Bucky he set the cup on the table. His smile was soft, almost practised, as if he had rehearsed how to be gentle with you.

You stared at it for a moment, then back at him, before picking it up. The tea was hot in your hands, the steam curling in a way that should have felt comforting— but instead, the scent of it haunted you like a ghost haunted an abandoned house.

You took a sip. “You knew.”

“You always liked it.” Bucky offered a small, almost shy smile. “You used to make it for me when I had trouble sleeping.”

I wouldn’t accept it. I didn't think I deserved this, Bucky thought to himself, but he decided not to tell you. Yet.

“You should get some rest,” Bucky said, his voice gentle. “It’s been a long day.”

You nodded, but the moment you sat on the centre of the bed, you knew sleep wasn’t going to come easily. The gravity of everything—the missing years, the lost memories— pressed down on your shoulders, making your chest constrict.

Bucky's quiet support, staying with a friend, should have soothed you, but his kindness felt like an intrusion—a reminder that you were a stranger in your own life, occupying a space you no longer belonged in.

Wednesday.

The next morning, you woke to the scent of coffee.

Bucky knocked lightly on your door before stepping inside, holding a mug. His smile was hesitant as he handed it to you.

You accepted it with a quiet “thanks.”

“Everything can be as slow or as quick as you like. Some of the others want to see you, but you don’t have to unless you’re ready.” He paused for a second, before saying, “You can stay with me as long as you want.”

His voice was calm, steady, trying to keep your world from spinning too fast. You nodded, weighing his offer.

As you sipped the coffee, warmth spread through your chest. It was perfect. The perfect amount of milk. The perfect amount of sugar.

He knew.

—

The conversation unfolded slowly throughout the day, a gentle ebb and flow that mirrored the tentative trust being rebuilt between you and him.

At first, it was just small talk, safe topics that didn’t demand too much of either of you—things like the weather, the view from his apartment, the streets below. As the day wore on, the conversations grew a little deeper.

“You’ve lived here a while?” you asked, glancing around the living room, noting how sparsely decorated it was. There was a sense of calm in the simplicity, but with it a hint of reluctance to make this space feel truly like home.

“Yeah, a couple of years now,” Bucky replied. “It’s not much, but it’s quiet.”

You nodded, sensing the weight of his words. “Quiet can be good,” you chuckled, almost cathartic. “I guess I don’t really know what I need right now.”

His blue eyes were understanding, though you could tell there was something hidden behind them. “That’s okay.”

You offered a small, grateful smile.

The longer it stretched, the more peaceful the silence became. You were not friends yet, not really. Not him and this version of you.

But if you trusted him before— and your instincts told you that you did— he must be a good person.

So far, you enjoyed his company, and he did not demand friend out of you, not the same way Sam did.

He was not disappointed by your lack of acknowledgement. He just seemed to be happy you were there.

For now, you could just live in the present, as if standing at the edge of a doorway without needing to cross it just yet.

Then, after sensing your ease, he shared a memory, trying to fill the gaps that were left in your mind.

“Do you remember the time we went hiking outside the city? I think it was after Happy’s birthday party. Everyone else was hungover, but you dragged me out at the crack of dawn.”

You blinked, trying to pull the threads together, but nothing came. “I don’t... I don’t remember.”

“We got lost for hours.” Bucky smiled faintly, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “You swore you knew the way, so I didn’t bother questioning you. I just followed.”

“I-I’m sorry.” you said quietly, unsure of what the nature of the memory was.

“No, no.” He chuckled lightly. “We ended up finding this little stream. We just sat there for a while, didn’t talk much, just... listened.”

You tried to picture it, to feel that day as vividly as Bucky seemed to, but all you could grasp were shadows. “I wish I could remember.”

“You will. Or you won’t. Either way, it’s okay,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. But beneath the calm mask he put on, Bucky’s thoughts churned.

He had secretly loved that hike. But when you coaxed him out that day, he had been cold, distant, as always. He had criticised everything you did, grumbled when you got lost.

But you? You were calm that day, as you had been every other day. You were patient with him. You had seen that he needed to get out of his apartment, see the world that he inhabited for once.

You pulled him out of the darkness that day. Kept him sane.

God, I’m sorry... for everything you don’t remember. For everything I said and for everything I didn’t, he thought to himself.

He didn’t let it show, though, didn’t let his guilt fade into the background. Instead, he focused on the present, the small victories of connection that he made with you, hoping it would make up for all the distance he put there before.

—

Later, after ordering dinner and eating quietly, you sat together on the couch.

You mustered up all the courage you could find asked him something that had been on your mind. “What was I like?”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, knowing he needed to choose his words carefully. “Strong. Stubborn,” he told you. “Kind. You always saw the good in people.”

You stared at him, searching for any clues of insincerity and found none, though the tremble in his lips suggested there was more to his answer than he was letting on.

Still, it was hard to reconcile the person he described with the emptiness you felt now. Hearing him talk about you—about her—you began to understand why everyone seemed so hurt about losing who you became in the last four years.

You nodded, trying to imagine that version of yourself. “It’s hard to picture.”

Bucky glanced down. He found it hard to picture who he was before all this, too.

He had changed so much in the past few days. He had changed so drastically in the way he treated you, that he was torn between whether he should remind you of what he'd said before your mission.

His own words echoed in his head: ‘I feel like I can't breathe around you.’

Seeing you like this, disoriented and vulnerable, he questioned if you really needed to know how cruel he'd been before.

For now, the guilt of it now belonged to him alone.

He knew he would have trouble hiding the ache in his chest, knowing that he had hurt you, knowing that he had pushed you away when all you had ever offered was kindness.

But maybe that thrumming pain was worth it.

This was his second chance.

He could be better. He could finally be the friend you deserved, even if you never remembered what had happened between you.

He could be patient, he could be there for you, without the burden of the past hovering over every word. Bucky didn’t know if you would ever regain your memories, but for once, he didn’t need to fix things.

All he had to do was be there.

“You don’t have to picture it,” he said gently, “you’re still that person.”

As you spent the rest of the evening getting to know him, he realised how much he had missed this—your presence, your laughter, even the way you furrowed your brow when you were lost in thought. He had been so afraid of it before, afraid of getting too close.

Almost losing you had shaken him to his core. This time, he wasn’t sure he could survive pushing you away again.

So, he didn’t.

Thursday.

Bucky stood by the door of the medical bay, his posture tense. He watched carefully as the doctor completed the exam.

He had taken you back to the compound to see a doctor, to get you properly discharged. You did run out, after all.

You sat on the table, blinking against the harsh lights, your mind struggling to clear the fog that clung to your thoughts.

The doctor's explanation confirmed what Bucky had already suspected. The confusion, the disorientation—it was all normal after what you'd been through. He had said it was a good thing you were staying with a familiar face, though you didn't have the heart to tell him he wasn’t familiar to you.

Everyone around you just told you that he was.

When the doctor finished, Bucky gently helped you down from the table. He guided you through the sterile hallways, bringing you home to his apartment.

Friday.

Bucky’s bathroom was dimly lit, a faint glow from mirror nightlight casting uneasy shadows against the walls. You stood in front of the mirror, hesitating to look at the reflection that would greet you.

You’d avoided it until now, not wanting to confront the parts of yourself that didn’t make sense. The parts that didn’t look like it belonged. That didn’t look feel it belonged.

But today, after hours of consideration and glancing at your reflection, you dared to lift your eyes to meet the unfamiliar person staring back at you.

The image of your own face was uncanny.

The ends of your hair were frayed and split, the wear of weeks without proper care was evident.

There were the scars. Angry, jagged lines that trailed down the side of your face, ghosting over your cheekbone, one disappearing into your hairline. Those were the scars from the last mission, they had said. The head injury that cost you your memories.

Your eyes trailed down, seeing bruises scattered across your shoulders, deeper marks that told stories your mind couldn’t piece together.

You lifted your hand, making sure your reflection followed you. Making sure this was still you— and it was.

You didn’t recognize this person.

You didn’t recognize yourself.

The grief that you had been avoiding for days struck like lightning— the years stolen from you. The friends you couldn’t remember, the disconnect your soul felt from your body. Your chest tightened as tears spilled over, and you clutched the sink, knuckles hurting.

Keep yourself together.

You’re stronger than this, dammit.

The bathroom door was barely ajar, but it was just enough for Bucky to catch the muffled sound of your quiet sobs.

He knew how disorienting it was— how painful it could be, waking up and not recognizing your own life.

He stepped closer, knocking on the door before opening it. "You okay?"

You quickly wiped your eyes, straightening your posture. You tried to compose yourself before he could notice, but you didn’t know you were too late.

“Yeah,” you sniffled, forcing a shaky laugh. “It’s just… I think I need a trim. My hair’s a mess.”

Bucky nodded, the lines of his forehead softening. He knew that wasn’t why you were crying, but he didn’t pry, didn’t push. If you needed time to admit to him— or to yourself— how much you were hurting, he would wait, even if it meant waiting forever.

“I can help,” he offered quietly. "I trim my own hair. I’ve got the scissors for it."

You hesitated, biting your lip. “That would be good.”

Bucky left for a moment, returning with a small set of scissors and a comb. The nothingness between you was gentle, not awkward at all.

Bucky stood behind you, his touch careful as he gathered your hair, brushing through the tangled strands.

His hands, though large, moved with a delicacy that you didn’t realise he was capable of. He barely spoke as he worked on your hair, methodical and focused.

You couldn’t help but notice how close he was, the soft sound of his breath on your ears. His metal fingers occasionally grazed the back of your neck, sending a slight shiver through you.

"The scars and bruises," he said softly after a few moments, as if he could sense your tension. “They’re a part of you. Doesn’t mean they’re all of you.”

You wanted to believe him, but it was hard to see anything beyond the damage when you didn’t know where it came from.

It was hard to accept the version of yourself that had come out of that mission that had ruined your life, though you didn’t even remember how.

“I don’t even remember how I got them,” you whispered, your voice thick.

“But that doesn’t change who you are.” Bucky paused, his hands still in your hair for a brief moment. “It doesn’t change what you mean to me.”

Your breath hitched at the implication of his words, but you didn’t say anything.

He resumed trimming, the sound of the scissors snipping through the strands echoing in the room.

“You’ve got a lot of split ends,” he said. "I’ll take care of them."

You managed a soft laugh, despite the tears still burning at the corners of your eyes. “Thanks, Bucky.”

He continued working in silence until he finished.

“There,” he said, setting the scissors down and stepping back to admire his work. “I think you look beautiful.”

As you once again looked into the mirror, you looked a bit more familiar.

Bucky had trimmed your hair from memory, from what he remembered it looked like when you first joined the team, hoping it would help.

“Bucky?” You called after a moment of silence.

“Hm?” He replied.

“Do you think our friends can start visiting next week?”

-to be continued…

Taglist: @hzdhrtss @irisk12 @tayyyystan @seventeen-x @lomlbuckybarnes

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @avatarofthetimelords @bckynatt @winchestert101 @zemosprincesa

@nngkay @hiireadstuff @sapphirebarnes @thatesqcrush @bethexo07

@florie1 @nyutasgirl @coraliix @harrysgothicbitch @jules-and-gemss

@infqnitysblog @isnow-0r-never @roofwitty779 @baw1066 @wasalreadyhere

@cjand10 @greatmistakes @winterslove1917 @calwitch @sebastians-love

@gyllord @brckenmemories @ethereal-witch24 @diffidentphantom

@avatarofthetimelords @lumidotexe @oscarissac2099 @currentfacination @pono-pura-vida

@blackbirdwitch22 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @ayayaeyato @btssaysstudy @unaxv

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x female reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x f!reader #Sebastian stan #Sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #Bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader fluff

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awearywritersworld · 1 year ago

Text

i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you

sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist

"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.

"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."

"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."

you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"

"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."

your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."

"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.

"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."

with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.

you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.

as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.

your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).

he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"

"nothing," you huff.

"don't be a brat."

you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."

"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."

he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.

when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.

"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."

"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"

you scoff. "well you've got me there."

a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."

you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.

wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."

you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."

he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.

"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."

"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."

"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."

"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."

"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."

"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."

you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.

as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.

you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.

the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.

"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.

after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.

"let's sit here for a little while."

he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.

as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.

sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.

"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.

"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.

his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.

when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.

"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.

your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.

truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.

no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.

the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.

so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"

his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"

some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.

"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.

he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.

"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."

and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.

"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."

ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.

"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."

the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."

you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."

then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.

you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.

when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.

you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"

as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."

"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"

"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.

"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."

"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."

before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"

he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."

"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.

gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"

"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."

"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."

gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"

yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.

his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.

having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.

leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"

"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"

"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."

gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.

he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"

yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."

"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."

a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"

megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"

when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.

"ta ta, hooligans!"

you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.

looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.

he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.

"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."

"i'd rather you didn't."

you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."

he hums. "how much did you drink?"

"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."

he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."

"tha's correct, yes."

unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."

you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.

pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.

"tuck me in?" you request.

sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.

he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.

instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."

his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.

but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."

"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."

your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.

love?

what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.

suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:

"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?

were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?

is that what love is?

could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?

does the definition of love lie in those questions?

sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.

he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.

he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.

so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?

gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.

the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @thepup356 @risuola *users in bold could not be tagged

#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

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ghostgirl101 · 1 year ago

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writing for william afton?? Yeah sure I'll get craaaazy ヘ⁠(⁠￣⁠ω⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠) you can write headcanons of anything, really, I just want to hold this man and be extremely and overly affectionate with him (⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠) (and and jealousy trope is so aaaaaa you can write something with that, right??? :33)

William Afton/Steve Raglan Being Obsessed With You Would Include...

A/N: Yeap, let's start with obsessive relationship stuff, and then I'll work on a request for jealous headcanons. Hope this is in character, I tried to make it as accurate as I could with what I could work with from the movie. Requests for the FNAF movie are still open if you want me to work on a scenario; just make sure its no smut and platonic or childhood sweethearts for any of the animatronics/missing children 🙃

🐰• Well, good luck getting out of whatever craziness you've somehow gotten yourself into. That's the first thing I'm gonna say ._.

🐰• You probably meet William as "Steve," the careers counsellor who asks a little too many personal questions for it to be strictly business-related, but then, he's got to know who you are to find a job that fits in with your life and personality. He seems normal enough, though there is a slight intensity in the way his eyes linger on you for a beat too long, and his questions become more specific and a bit non-contextual.

🐰• By the end of the interview, he offers you the place of a nightguard at Freddy's, giving you his card with a casual half-smile and going out of his way to show you the ropes. Then you start the job, as oddly unsettling and dark the environment seems, and you think that it's the last time you'll hear from him.

🐰• It's not 😏

🐰• Steve knows a lot about you from your files that he went through before, and from what you told him, and he's got a good memory. He copied all the information down, storing it safely at home, going through pictures and any sources he can find about you in some unplaced interest. William's very calm and calculated, and there's no way he'd be found out unless he let it happen or wanted you to find out for yourself.

🐰• So until he's ready to reveal his dark side completely, which will slip out in little actions and hints when you spend time with him, he's simply Steve Raglan, the relatively normal careers counsellor who keeps checking in on you to see how you're getting on with the job, often going out for a coffee to give you "advice" in his breaks. Anything to pry out more information from you, for him to understand what exactly it is about you that intrigues him.

🐰• Is it because you're unusually pretty? Clever? Quirky? To William, you're just a bit different, maybe a bit childish, or mature and deep, dark-humoured? Whatever it is, it caught his attention, which is a good thing, if you want it... and if it's not, well, you're stuck with it anyway.

🐰• You'll notice quite early on that he's a bit odd himself, maybe a bit invasive, possessive, especially for someone you haven't known for that long. If someone looks over at you for a second too long while you're having coffee with Steve, having a conversation that's veered off of references and employee skills to some personal aspect or interest in your life that he's cracked open. You'll see a shot of something dark pass through his blueish gaze before it passes almost as soon as it comes, and you'll know nothing more about it except never seeing that person again. Just another missing person to add to a list.

🐰• Same with if you happen to be seeing anyone; he's got his own ways to scare people off, and if that doesn't work, he'll be forced to do something a little messier. Again, you won't know a thing about it, and there'll be no proof, no body, no big questions. Suddenly your partner has run off on a job out of the country or broken up with you via text... and Steve will be around to "see how you're doing" and to pick up the pieces when you end up spilling more about what's been going on in your life and exposing more vulnerability. It gives William a rush, in a way, to be needed and ran to and relied on when something goes bad, especially if it's you looking up at him with big pleading eyes. He can only smile and squeeze your hand, not letting go for a long moment as you get yet another drink and finally end up getting somewhere closer to a proper relationship.

🐰• Friends start getting a little distant, past lovers end up disappearing and little conveniences in life become more frequent. Wonder why that is?

🐰• Afton has a great memory, and if you tell him you like something in particular, your favourite show or book, he finds the exact thing by chance in the shop and had to get it for you, just to see your eyes light up and smile thankfully. Or he recorded a new episode of your series for you to watch if you come over on one of the nights you're not working, or he's just finished reading that book, come round to his so you can talk about it some more? He always finds a way to get what he wants, and when it's a person, victim or not, the rule still applies.

🐰• You may not be a victim of violence or murder, but he's got an obsession, an unhealthy desire to watch everything you do, everyone you talk to and in your life. He doesn't name a specific reason for it, doesn't think he needs to, doesn't see the point in it. If you ever catch on to that kind of behaviour, he'll just give you a warm smirk and shrug. "Well, because it's you," is his casual response, though you could swear there's something more behind his eyes. "And I care about you, you know?"

🐰• This is still William Afton though, and for all he can be surprisingly romantic and thoughtful when he thinks to be to see your reaction, he's a sadistic murderer and kidnapper at the end of the day... and it does start to show through. He can be manipulative as we see in the movie, and a bit arrogant, though I don't think he'd outrightly manipulate you. It's more your surroundings and the people you're with. Maybe he'll dig up some dirt on one of your close friends and put it somewhere where you'll find it and cut off the friendship yourself, exactly how he wanted it. And on the occasions when he gets his hands dirty with those types of people, he will get his hands dirty, and enjoys every minute of it. He taunts and mocks them until their dying breath, hating the thought of someone else holding your attention for longer than he can, which only causes more blood to be washed out of clothes and off his skin before you notice.

🐰• I have the idea of William watching you sleep deep in for some reason, since he's affectionate in his own ways, not majorly into PDA or clingy, since he prefers you being the one to run to him. But in the moments when you're not aware that he's around, like when you're sleeping. He'll trace calloused but featherlight fingers across your face, down from your forehead to your cheek and your neck. There's a beat of tensity where you might think he's tempted to do something extreme, something violent, but it passes time and time again. I think the only time William would be tempted to be harsher and forceful is if and when you ever found out about what it is exactly he does, and try betraying him. He wouldn't kill you, nothing like that, but he'd have to lock you away someplace safer...

🐰• But Afton will cross that bridge when he comes to it. For now, it's just an attentive and dependent relationship that William will keep going for as long as he can, accepting any gesture of affection or admiration or any positive attention in general with open arms and a pleased smirk on his face. Life will be pretty easy for you, everything seeming to go your way, and his, he'll make sure of it. And when you finally uncover the truth behind Steve and meet the real William Afton, he'll expect things to stay exactly the same: bloodied hands, spring locks snapping, glowing grey animatronic eyes or not.

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sleepyparalysisdmon · 1 month ago

Text

Seventeen with a cautious crush/partner

Genre: comfort, angst

TW/CW: allusions to past trauma, but no specific scenarios - just the possible reactions you might have to it.

A/N: no specific traumas are mentioned because every single trauma is valid. There will be a lot of If statements in this in an effort to not exclude anyone. I understand that this is a sensitive topic. Be kind to yourselves and skip if it’s not the right time for you to read this. 🖤

Clocked it immediately upon meeting you - Jeonghan, Wonwoo, The8, Vernon

Totally perceptive and emotionally intelligent. Upon meeting you they will know there’s something behind that wall you keep up. It’s okay. He’s nothing if not patient. He may try to get you to relax with his sense of humor, but what will really do the trick is the careful consideration for your comfort. Don’t want to be touched? Done and he’ll make sure no one else does either. Don’t like loud or crowded spaces? He’s guiding you somewhere a little more secluded for a breath of fresh air or skipping the event all together to do something else with you. Too nervous or down to eat? He’s softly urging you to try something light to see if it will make you feel better. Can’t sleep? He’s offering a phone call or maybe even a walk around the block to clear your head. He likes that you let him in even a millimeter when he asks if something will help you. He’ll keep quietly supporting you without the promise of being let in completely, but if you do let him in he’ll be elated.

Picks up on little signs along the way - Seungcheol, Joshua, Woozi, Seungkwan

Might take that wall you have up as simply being shy, which he finds cute and will even tell you so. But there are little things that start to add up the more time he spends with you. Touches make you squirm. Or loud sounds make you jump more than most people. Or sometimes you seem a little checked out if too many people are around. Whatever those little hints are, he’s not totally surprised if you’re hot and cold and he’s starting to understand that it’s unintentional. He tries to be a comfort to you when you’re in a cold phase because he really just wants to be a safe space for you to turn to. And he’ll encourage the hot phases with a lot of enthusiasm. If you let the relationship progress, he’ll let you set the pace with gentle checkins to make sure you’re still comfortable. Your willingness to let the walls down even a bit means the world to him because it means you trust him. He’ll be so so so careful with that trust.

Might take a big moment to realize - Jun, Hoshi, Seokmin, Mingyu, Dino

Might not even read your reactions as shyness, but rather dislike or distaste for him. He’s not sure what he did at first and the perceived rejection might sting. He might not even observe long enough to see that you’re like that with just about everyone because he heard your silent message for distance and he’s giving it to you. I hate to say it but it might take a pretty big negative reaction for him to realize that there’s something more below the surface. Like seeing you crying or having a panic attack or looking terribly uncomfortable around someone, anything of that sort. He’ll step in without a second thought, asking how he can help. He knows it’s the desperation of the situation that has you accepting his help, but he’s okay with that because he gets it now. So so careful from that point forward. You have a full time body guard now that would like to be your boyfriend if you let him.

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alleiwentcrazy · 2 years ago

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Eddie hates it when people don’t answer his calls. He hates it with passion.

It reminds him of too many things. It reminds him of manhunts and abandoned sheds, and no one on the other side of the line. It reminds him of cold, clammy hands, of hunger, of fear. Breaking bones and eldritch horrors he’d thought existed solely in cheap movies, not in real life, until he was brutally made aware of the fact that when people say everything’s possible, everything is possible.

Every time someone doesn’t answer the phone when he calls, panic starts to boil inside his veins and his brain immediately makes at least a dozen painful scenarios for him to dwell on. He knows that technically, they just don’t know that it’s him. But it doesn’t make him worry any less, so everyone’s learned to respect the rule. They just have to pick up. No matter what. Or he’ll freak out, drop everything he’s doing and come unexpectedly to check if everything’s alright.

There hasn’t been a single situation when things were actually bad—people go get groceries, take solid, deep naps, or they’re simply too lazy to pick up sometimes—but he always does that. Always.

Especially if it’s Steve who doesn’t answer. What if he fell? Or someone mugged him? Or he got into a fight? This brain can’t take any more damage. What if he’s in the hospital now, waiting to be anesthetized before surgery, and no one’s called Eddie yet, because to society they’re just some dudes living together?

There are too many options. Eddie doesn’t like taking chances anymore, so he slaps the “I’ll be back in a few” sign on the door, closes the shop and speeds through the town like he has nothing to lose. (And it’s quite stupid, because he has too many things to lose now—but he’s allowed to freak out once in a while.)

When he gets there and sees Steve pacing and gesturing animatedly in front of the window of their tiny but awfully cluttered kitchen, he finds out exactly what it means to have the whole world on your shoulders. Or, rather, to be finally freed from the pressure it creates.

It’s okay. It’s just a stupid phone call. It wasn’t even important, anyway.

Despite that, he takes his helmet off. Won’t hurt to remind Steve of the rule. And maybe kiss his pretty face a little while he’s here.

He doesn’t even have to enter their apartment to know that Steve’s not alone. First off – if Steve’s pacing and rambling, an anxious trait he’s picked up from Robin, wasn’t a hint enough – it’s loud. Their paper walls can barely hold back a normal conversation, let alone something resemblant of a heated discussion. Honestly, Eddie has no idea how their neighbors can stand them sometimes, with his metal, their late-night conversations and non-conversations alike, with the kids visiting so often. Although Steve is optimistic (they have some lovely neighbors, like sweet Gran Fran, but don’t ever let Eddie express his opinions about that old hag from across the hallway, Miss Hermans), he’s still waiting for that complaint to be filed.

Second, he smells coffee. Steve never makes coffee for just himself.

Eddie opens the door gingerly, remembering how easy it is to completely unhinge them by accident, and is about to scream something about getting home, when none other than Dustin Henderson cuts him off with a shriek.

“—because it’s actually pathetic, that’s why! Get a grip, man, just do it!”

“Oh, it’s so easy for you to say, because you’ve never actually tried—”

“And maybe I never will! If you won’t do it, how can I learn how to do it myself? You know that you guys are the closest thing to father figures!”

“Hey, don’t make it about yourself for once, maybe? Some humility?”

Dustin’s quiet for a second, but Eddie knows he’s not about to admit full defeat. “Yes, sorry,” he chokes out, finally. “But you’ve tried so many times, you should know that it doesn’t get any easier on another try. Just do it, it doesn’t matter how.”

“It does, though! To me, it—it does. It matters,” Steve mumbles back, and Eddie can picture his face in perfect detail. It’s Steve’s small voice, which means he’s worried about something, even though his worry doesn’t make any sense in everyone else’s eyes. He’s unsure: his brows are pinched, lips pursed, stare skittering around the room, never focusing on anything. Dustin knows this face too, because his tone gets softer.

“Okay, then walk me through it.”

“What?”

“Walk me through it. You’ll know what you want, how you want it, when and where, and it’ll be easier when you try it next time.”

“Dustin, I really don’t—I’m not sure it can get easier, ever.”

“Because you’re scared.”

Steve sighs deeply before he responds. “Yes. Because I’m scared.”

“It’s been eight years, Steve. What are you scared of?” Dustin’s voice is gentle, curious. He’s not judging, he genuinely wants to know the reasons, and so does Eddie. He leans against the wall, trying to sneak a peek of the kitchen unsuccessfully, and listens. A while passes before Steve speaks again.

“I think—There are so many things I’m afraid of. But the main one… It’s still rejection. Not being enough. Because it’s not like it’s anything formal, right? It’s only a promise, and if it ends up turned down…”

Chair legs scrape the floor and Eddie can hear two soft slaps – hands on shoulders, probably.

“Steve Harrington. Calm down. You know it’s not going to happen—no, don’t argue. I know it, and this alone should be enough. You are an amazing person. You’re great with people, you’re bright, you’re sweet, caring, you have so many talents. I love you, Steve,” the pause that follows is filled with something so heavy there’s a shift in the air. It has a different smell now. A little salty, a little warm. “And he loves you. More than you can imagine, probably. So just pop the question, Steve. And don’t back out with some stupid excuse like this morning.”

“Pop the question,” Steve says, his voice firm, only a little timid. “Yes, I think—I think I can do that.”

Eddie bounces off the wall and takes quiet, slow steps backwards. He can’t hear anything else, even though the conversation continues. He bites his tongue hard enough to make it bleed a little. A coppery taste floods his mouth as he closes the door.

Oh, it’s just so, so stupid. He would have said yes. Each and every time, he would have said yes.

Later that day, when they’re lying in bed together, with the sheets rumpled, their bodies warm and mushy from the nap, with Eddie’s lips on Steve’s and Steve’s hands in Eddie’s hair, Eddie remembers the overheard conversation.

Well, no. That’s a lie. Because he hasn’t stopped thinking about it ever since.

Every single second of what, at first, seemed to be yet another annoying Monday, has been filled with reverie and anticipation. Dustin’s right – Eddie loves Steve. He loves him enough to risk hell for him, enough to argue with anyone who’s in any way mean to him. Enough to take his hand and say “You don’t have to be afraid when I’m with you”, even though Eddie’s the biggest coward in the whole wide world.

Eddie loves him. Loves his goofy smiles and scrunched happy faces, loves his moles and the uneven mustache he grows out sometimes when he’s bored. Eddie loves how gentle Steve is, how thoughtful and kind-hearted he is. How he helps Gran Fran replant her flowers each month with more enthusiasm than Eddie’s ever shown to anyone. How he talks to children, how much respect he has for those undermined by everyone else.

Eddie loves how he’s learned to stand up for himself. He’s proud of Steve, of how much he’s grown, of how he knows how to express what he needs and what he wants now. Eddie’s loved him for ages, maybe even longer than he’s aware of, but every single significant and insignificant change in Steve’s behavior and point of view makes him fall a little bit harder, every time. In any shape, in any form, there’s one constant in Eddie’s life: his love for Steve.

He likes to think that they do that to each other, both of them. That they help each other through inevitable changes, painful regressions and euphoric victories alike. He likes to think that together, they make one, healthy, living being – and apart they’re good, because they’ve grown to be good people thanks to the connections they’ve made overall. He likes this idea of just being good, together and apart. And he loves Steve for giving him the opportunity to be just that.

Eddie wants it to last. Desperately, intensely, madly. He wants it to last and he needs it to keep happening – he knows that, and he knows he has the capacity to do that. To be there, to stay. His hands touch Steve’s thigh, not in the slightest covered by those silly Hawkins Tigers shorts he’s kept, then they touch Steve’s soft, scarred belly, then they touch his chest, where his heart is beating steadily and peacefully, and he keeps kissing him and Steve keeps clingling back to him, and Eddie’s so sure.

He wants this. He wants to experience growing old together, he wants them to get all wrinkly and bald together, he wants the fights over who gets the most comfortable chair in their grandkids’ living room. He wants them to experience the highs and the lows of the family that they already have, and the one they’re going to build someday.

Eddie wants this. He wants Steve. The whole deal; the promised forever. And he doesn’t want to wait another second.

“Steve,” Eddie says, cutting the kiss short so suddenly Steve actually pulls him closer, chasing after the warmth of his lips. “I’m saying yes.”

“Mm. Okay,” he mumbles back, too kiss- and sleep-hazy to catch Eddie’s intention right away. He tries to bump their noses together—which is adorable, really, but Eddie can’t let him hijack and self-sabotage this proposal too.

“No, Steve,” he squeezes Steve’s side until he looks at him properly. “I love you. I’m saying yes.”

In awe, Eddie watches as Steve’s face goes through confusion, true bewilderment, a bit of fear and fleeting exhilaration, to finally settle on disbelief.

“How did you—”

Eddie laughs a little at that. “I called and you didn’t pick up.” Steve makes a little oh sound, already looking like a kicked puppy. “But it’s okay, doesn’t matter, not the point,” Eddie jumps in, anticipating an unnecessary apology. “The point is, I love you, and I’m saying yes.”

Steve stares at him for a long second, his eyes wide and earnest. His fingers slide from Eddie’s hair to finally settle on both of his cheeks, cradling them lovingly. Eddie kinda wants to cry.

“You’ll marry me?” Steve asks, incredulous, his voice only a bit louder than a whisper. The way he accentuates the word “marry” gives yet another layer of meaning to such a simple question. You’ll love me? Forever?

“I’ll marry you,” he replies without hesitation. “You’ll marry me?” You’ll love me? With my flaws?

“I’ll marry you,” Steve says back. Then he grins with his eyes glistening in the bedside light, and squishes Eddie’s cheeks so hard it squeezes the unshed tear right from his eye. “We’ll get married!”

Steve giggles happily, and Eddie laughs with him. There’s so much joy inside him—them, the whole room seems to get bigger. “We will,” he adds through a smile, already peppering his fiancé’s face with kisses.

“Oh gosh, I have to call Robin,” Steve manages through his giggles and Eddie loves him so much. “And Dustin!”

So, so much.

#steve harrignton #eddie munson #steddie #dustin henderson #stranger things #st4 fanfic #i've had SUCH a shit and busy month. i'm using them to heal myself lol #i wanted to make them so pathetically in love i accidentally made my eyes fall out of my skull bc of the cheesiness #proposal au #hehe #short and sweet #excuse me if i got too silly. my hand slipped

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bonny-kookoo · 9 months ago

Text

Jungkook

Princess | Exposed

In which you just want to stay.

Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, reader has some issues, mentions of depression

Length: 3.5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook quite honestly has been thinking about buying one of those toddler-harnesses for you at this point to keep you in sight.

Because again, for the second time today, he’s lost you- and this time it seems serious, because it’s been half an hour, and he’s yet to pick up any trace of your scent.

And deep down, he worries.

Both about your safety, but also about your intentions. What if you’re fed up with everything? What if you’ve been boiling all this time, quietly, simply playing the easy to fool hybrid girl with the rosy tinted glasses? And if you’ve really snapped, how far would you go to get away from your past life?

What are you willing to offer in exchange for freedom?

Despite knowing it’s not allowed, Jungkook has been taking you places. Because after learning that you’ve never bought your own groceries, fridge almost empty, he’s simply taken you to a small convenience store to get some basics to stock up on. And you were like a child at Disneyland- wide eyes checking everything out, mesmerized by the commercials and music, and colorful advertisements all around.

Something so mundane and.. boring to him, turned out to be the most special thing ever to you.

And so, he’d taken you to the mall today- filled with numerous stores from shoes to accessories to food and electronics. But maybe that was a bad idea to just push you into the deep waters right away- because honestly, he’s not sure you can swim without support just yet.

He’s so stupid. He should’ve thought about this.

Jungkook is concentrating more, following every way you both took before in hopes of somehow catching any sight of you- and suddenly, there’s a hint of your scent again, giving him hope and boosting his energy, ears standing tall, twisting around as if he’s echo-locating you like a bat. And then, you tug on his sleeve- and at the sight of you right behind him, he can’t help himself.

“Fuck, don’t ever scare me like that again!”

He’s hugging you tightly, before he leans back to check on you, trying to find anything wrong with you- but you’re fine, apart from the clear sense of fear this whole incident must’ve spooked into you. “I’m sorry-“ you start explaining yourself. “-there were so many people, and then someone bumped into me, and suddenly you were gone-“ you ramble, but he shakes his head, slowly becoming more calm again.

“it happens, I’m glad you found your way back.” He tells you, and you nod. “you want to go check out the shoe store?” He wonders, when you suddenly cling to his arm instead, ears flat down. Only now does he realize your tail is tucked between your legs, as you’ve become very much fearful of this entire situation.

“can we.. maybe come back another day?” You wonder, voice quiet, but he nods.

“Don’t worry, we can come back any time you want.” He offers, before he pets your head, and takes your hand right after. “for now let’s go home, yeah? We can get some food on the way back and eat it at your place.” He offers, and you nod.

“Jungkook?” you wonder, and he hums as you both exit the building, making you feel a lot better. “…thank you.” You say.

And for some odd reason, the way you look at him makes his heart jump a little.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

The sight of you and Jimin so close and.. Happy, makes him feel odd.

You seem so excited and at ease, docile and oh-so sugary sweet in your demeanor. And it’s not at all an act you put on- he knows what you look like when you try and pretend to be someone you’re not, and this version of you he’s getting to see right now is not just a mask you’re putting on. You’re still very much a handful, and there’s obvious moments of irritation still- but you don’t act out at all with Jimin, not in the way you do with Jungkook at least.

Do you really not like him? Or maybe you’re actually into Jimin?

It sure looks like you want to charm the older guy, happily letting the young man choose something to eat for you at the hybrid-friendly cafe down the street. Jungkook feels oddly.. Disappointed. He’d wanted to take you here himself actually, and now, this experience is taken from him, in a way.

Is he being the spoiled brat right now? Because he sure feels like throwing a tantrum right now.

“If you want to go home you can, by the way.” Jimin suddenly says, catching Jungkook’s attention- and he notices how you now look at him too, with a strange expression. “I didn’t mean to drag you here.” Jimin apologizes, but Jungkook waves it off.

“It’s fine.” He simply says, when suddenly, you change seats- sitting down next to Jungkook, arms on the table, face turned towards him to sneak a glance at him. “What?” He asks you, unsure what you seem to be searching for- but you just shrug.

“Nothing.” You just answer. “Why’re you being so grumpy right now?” You ask, and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“I’m not grumpy.” He argues lowly, poking at his half-eaten waffle on his plate.

“Totally not.” You tease, still looking at him though. “You gonna finish that?” You ask, pointing to his food on the plate. He shakes his head, and without thinking much cuts up a piece of the waffle, before he holds it out for you to take- something you very happily do, clearly more than eager to receive the food from him in this way.

Jimin smirks to himself, leaning his chin on his hand as he watches the interaction.

“You really got the big bad wolf all tamed.” He teases Jungkook, who growls almost on instinct, glaring at the older guy across from him- though when you kick the leg of his chair beneath the table, he does cut up another piece to feed you.

Proving his point quite clearly, making him smile.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Even thought Jungkook knows he shouldn’t, and that this needs to go to a lawyer asap, he can’t just ignore his own curiosity about your contract.

Nothing he thought he’d be reading could’ve ever prepared him for the actual contents of the contract itself- from quite frankly ridiculous rules and guidelines you have to follow, to definitely illegal sections like the overall length of it all.

Apparently, from what he’s read Up to this point, your entire life has been completely ruled by your management. Whatever you want to do, be it buy something, go somewhere, say something in public- it all has to go through the agency and has to be approved first. Every step you take is basically monitored and controlled, and not just your actions are regulated. Even your overall diet, workout routine, health check-ups and whatnot are all in this contract.

And the worst of it all has to be that you’ve been pulled into this at such a young age that you probably grew up believing this all is normal.

You’re currently sleeping on his.. Carpet in front of the sofa instead of on it for some reason, but he’s not questioning it too much. You’ve got your weird habits, and maybe this is simply just the freedom of choice finally becoming real to you as well- and if that’s the case, so be it. Still, he puts a blanket over you and at least moves your head to rest on a small pillow instead of the hard floor- unable to quite watch you like this.

Or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s gonna have to deal with your cranky mood if you wake up sore.

But you definitely notice him, not yet quite as asleep as he thought you would be, as your hands reach out and catch him off guard, successfully making him lay down next to you on the carpet, eyes wide as they look into your impish ones. “you’ll nap with me.” You say, decide more or less, and he frowns at that, lifting one brow.

“weird. I don’t think I’ve been asked if I want to.” He questions, crossing his arms next to you, but you just pout, pushing his chest so he lays on his back, and you can cling to him, halfway getting comfortable on top of him.

“.. I want you to nap with me though.” You mumble, and he sighs.

“Well, asking if I want to would still be a nice thing.” He explains, and it causes you to grow quiet for a little while, until you sit up, back towards him while you look into your lap. “You could ask me right now, you know?” He offers, trying to joke- but you’re clearly not accepting his attempt at lightening the mood.

“I don’t want to.. hear you say you don’t want..” me, you want to say. But you can’t say it out loud, not yet at least. “..to be close to me.” You say instead, but he still gets your thoughts.

“You can’t hide away just because you’re scared of getting into an uncomfortable situation.” He reassures you, hand reaching out to gently touch your back, before it rests on your tail. “and just for the record, I’m very much okay with having you close.” He hums towards you, and you slowly lay back down, avoiding eye contact with him now.

“Can I… really be normal? And boring?” You ask, and he laughs.

“Boring probably not, but normal? Yeah, we’ll surely make it happen.” He nods. “I told you I’ll help. We’ll go step by step.” He reassures you, and you sigh.

“Do you think we could be friends.. after all this, too?” you ask, and at that he softens up quite a bit, before he nods.

“of course.” He answers. “jimin would hate me if I was to just send you off like that.” He attempts to joke.

“But jimin is.. a friend.” You say, glad he can’t see your face like this. “you’re.. not. You know?”

Its quiet for a bit, before he speaks, softly. “I think I know.” He answers.

“if we…” you start but drift off, unsure, hesitant.

“If we?” He urges gently, still laying so close to you that you can hear his voice rumbling in his chest where your head lays.

“if we held hands-“ you start, fingers itching to hold something. “-do you think we’ll dream the same thing?” You wonder, and he chuckles.

Before his hand reaches for yours to hold.

“I don’t know.” He answers, fingers intertwining with yours as if to not lose it while he sleeps. “But we can try and find out.”

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook has by now realized that most of your antics are never with the intention to actually annoy him. You simply learned over time that in order to gain attention, getting on people’s nerves is the easiest and quickest way.

That doesn’t mean that you don’t test his patience.

You’re slowly learning the right steps, since he still has to uphold at least the appearance that you’re both working towards your performance, so that no one will get suspicious of what might be happening behind closed doors. And he’s quite impressed by you- because once you’ve gotten the hang of it, you’re very good- but you don’t seem to be able to bring yourself to concentrate on one thing for too long, before growing bored of it.

“You have to learn when to be serious..” jungkook sighs, watching you throw your shoe in the corner. “We still have to practice, you know?” He tells you, but you just huff, clearly bored. “What’s wrong?” He asks, sitting down next to you in the middle of the practice room, by now aware that nothing you do is ever ‘just because’. There’s always a deeper reason as to why you act the way you do.

“I’m tired.” You simply tell him, and he has to admit, you do look less energetic than usual, eyes a bit red.

“Didn’t you sleep?” He asks, not mentioning your habit of gaming until late into the early hours simply because he too, has realized that he needs to change. He’s been judging you purely on his own thoughts and expectations, never really letting you explain yourself. You’re difficult, yes, but he’s also not an angel, he’s come to realize.

“Couldn’t.” You just shrug. “Tried, really early!” You offer him, the urgency in your tone making it clear that you want to me sure he doesn’t think your bluffing. “But I couldn’t. So I got up again, did that weird workout we do for warming up- but I was only.. You know, exhausted. Not tired.” You try and explain.

“Hm. Does that happen a lot?” He asks, pulling an odd little white hair from your clothes- most likely from your faux fur coat you wear.

“...sometimes.” You admit. “But I didn’t have any meds for it at home anymore. I’ll have to ask management.” You say.

“You take medication for sleep?” He asks, at this point always on edge whenever you talk about your job or the people you work with.

Or rather, the people who use you.

“Yeah, and for my headaches and heats and stuff.” You say.

“...your heats?” He wonders suspiciously, and again, you nod.

“So that I don’t get them.”

It’s quiet for a while, and mostly, because Jungkook doesn’t really know how to approach this topic. It’s sensitive after all- depending on how sever it might be. How long have you been medicated for it? What type of medication has been used? And most of all-

Have you ever had any heat at all? Or did they start so early that you’ve basically been taken away any chance at letting your body develop normally?

“It got too tough to always like, change dates and stuff just because I got my heat. I used to get them all over the place- like, it was never on time.” You explain, playing with the zipper of your thin jacket.

Okay. That at least means that you had heats before- making Jungkook feel a lot less nervous about this.

“How long have they been putting you on those meds?” He asks, and you seem to count in your head.

“Two years? Maybe?” You say. “Now that I think about it, last year is when my headaches and stuff started.” You mumble.

“Well, it’s common. When you’ve been on that stuff for too long, you get sideeffects.” Jungkook explains.

“You think I can just.. Not take them?” You ask.

“When’s the next time you’d have to?” He questions.

“This weekend.” You tell him, and he sighs. Internally, his entire being is screaming no, don’t make her take them, absolutely not, she doesn’t need them- but logically, he can’t just decide that. Even if you don’t want them, not taking them before you both even know if the case against your company is strong enough to 100% go smooth no matter what wouldn’t be the smartest choice. And also, Jungkook doesn’t know how to help someone who hasn’t had their heat in years. Of course he’s had girlfriends- he knows how to handle normal heats, how to care for someone who’s going through it, but he doesn’t know how to help you.

Maybe, or mostly, because he’s starting to become attached to you in a very specific way. And quite frankly, that scares him.

It’s terrifying.

Because once you’re out of this contract, you’ll go home to your parents- and from what he’s learned due to Jimin’s internal poking around, is that your parents live more than eight hours away from here- which means that once you live with them, you’re gone. Now is really not the time to develop feelings for you- especially because technically, you don’t fit together at all.

You’re loud, and vibrant, and excited and outgoing- he's introverted, he likes to stay inside, enjoys his quiet days at home. You’re gonna want to explore the world once it’s opened up to you- while he himself rather wants to stay here, where he knows every street and every alleyway. And yes, there’s also his own personal issue at hand.

What if he’s too much for you to handle?

He already accidentally scruffed you on your couch like a rabid dog last time you got too much for him- who's to say he won’t go even further if given the chance? What if you realize his interest in you is no longer platonic- making you flirt with him with deeper intentions? Can he keep himself in check if you were to tease him like that?

Could he withstand the temptation?

You tug on his sleeve, and only now does he realize he’s been staring at nothing for a while now. “You okay?” You ask, and he nods, patting your shoulder before he gets up.

“Yeah. Now come on, let’s practice a bit more.”

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks as you open your door, news of your contract having leaked to the public- and it’s not just yours, but almost all of the other hybrids under your agency.

Police had already questioned you earlier today, and Jungkook had been unable to get a hold of you until now- but luckily enough, you don’t seem too shaken up as you hug him, inviting him into your home. “You’ll be alright.” He reassures you, holding you for as long as you need him to, before you lean away a little, offering him space.

“Where am I gonna go now?” You worry, and Jungkook sits down on your couch with you for the moment. “They said that since the company owns the apartment, they can evict me.. And the will, I know they will. Where do I go now?”

“Don’t worry about that for now, okay?” Jungkook tells you. “I’ve always got space in my home for you if you need it.”

“Really?” You ask. “Jungkook.. Do you think I can finally meet my parents again?” You wonder, and he shrugs.

“I’m sure they’ll see the news soon. And if not, we can go figure it out. For now, you’re basically free- okay?” He explains, and you nod.

You stare at your hands for a second, before you look up at him again. “Will you.. Stay with me?” You ask, and he leans his head to the side a bit.

“What do you mean?” He questions, and you move your body to fully face him on the couch now.

“I meant it like I said it.” You whine, annoyed he’s clearly playing dumb right now. “Even, like, if I meet my parents, and get a new job or whatever, and all of this stuff is over-” You rant, leaning closer. “-will you stay?”

He knows what you’re asking. Now more than ever before- but he still can’t believe it fully. He feels like this might just be you feeling like you have to stay with him, but then again, there’s also not really much logic in the possibility of you just wanting him because he’s the only option you have. Jimin is there too-

So why him?

“Why me?” He asks you, voicing out his concerns, and you lean back on your heels, thinking about that question for a little moment.

“Because you don’t care. About.. What you could get from me.” You explain. “You’re honest with me, even if I don’t like it sometimes.” You admit. “You nice to me because you want to. Not because you have to.” You say, deflating visibly now as you fall quiet.

“I do.” He admits. “And I hope you.. Like me too, because you want to. Not because you feel like you have to.” Jungkook tells you, and you watch him now in wonder, before your ears pin back, making him a bit nervous-

Though all you do is charge at him in an attack with no intent to hurt, but just to be held.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook fanfic

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moonshine-nightlight · 5 months ago

Text

Courtship Confusion: Part One

You’ve been working with your siren partner for a couple years now. A consummate flirt, you’d initially been put off by his whole charming deal, somehow he's become your best friend. You’ve been wanting to see if he’s still interested in dating, but unfortunately he’s not picking up your hints. A pair of visiting cubi remind you of the cultural differences that come with interspecies dating. Maybe you’ve both been misunderstanding each other. Maybe it’s time you set the record straight.

Modern Fantasy, friends to lovers, siren/harpy, male monster x reader, Part 1 of 8

Ao3: Courtship Confusion Chapter 1

Part One

“Start blocking the exits, people. They’re making a run for it. Team Lure, you’re up,” the static-y voice says from your radio.

“Confirmed. Lure moving into position,” you answer for yourself and your partner before clipping the walkie talkie back onto your belt. You glance over to your partner who, per usual, looks far too unconcerned and cheerful for the mission of stopping a crew of smugglers. “Where do you want to set up?”

Morgan grins at you, sharp white teeth flashing even in this dim warehouse. “You know where.”

You stifle a grin of your own, knowing one of you needs to remain professional, and roll your eyes instead. “Wherever you can be the center of attention, right.”

He preens as he fluffs out his feathers. You only asked once how exactly his wings can go from resting comfortably and unobtrusively on his back, hardly seeming to take up any space at all, to a full wingspan that was enough to carry him. The highly technical arcane answer he’d given had been enough to serve as a reminder that, despite his carefree attitude, he was a fully licensed arcanist and make sure you never asked again. You’re the investigator and rules side of your inspector partnership—Morgan was the technical and social side. You liked it that way.

A career as an investigator of potentially illegal arcane workings isn’t nearly as glamorous or exciting as most people think it is. Most of the time it was just about handing out fines to people dabbling in things they shouldn’t and accidentally flooding their apartments or conjuring too many hamsters. But, sometimes, like today, you end up having to bust an illegal coven.

When containment spells failed and the criminals scattered, it’s your job to pull them all back. Well, mainly Morgan’s job.

From his high quality suit to his expertly applied eyeliner, he didn’t look the least bit like an inspector. Even the other department arcanists didn’t have his flare. Lively and cheerful where most were bored and weary, he breathed life wherever he went. And he loved to show off.

As you enter the large open area of the warehouse, you quickly begin setting up the broadcasting equipment—probably not needed, but protocol—while Morgan picks his spot. Within a few seconds, your carefully managed set up, ready to unfold for fieldwork in record time, is ready to go. You’re long practiced after being partnered these last couple of years.

Looking up, you find Morgan spreading his gorgeous black and white wings to alight on a stack of old pallets the cult left in this warehouse they’d been using as their base putting him several feet above everyone else.

“Careful!” you call despite knowing it's a lost cause.

Morgan flicks his wings in a careless, shrug-like gesture. “Worrywart,” he teases. You only have to give him a look to remind him of the incident with the ice for him to pout, the dark red of his lipstick making the expression obvious even with the height and distance. “That was one time! Are you set up?”

His voice is easily audible, as always, but you have to raise yours to reply, “Yeah, ready to go.”

He looks at you expectantly.

You put your hands on your hips to communicate ‘really? Do we need to do this every time?’ and he grins in response.

“Let the show begin!” you grudgingly prompt.

He’s no longer a performer by profession, but you can’t deny that's who he is in his heart. It’s hard to begrudge him the little bow he gives. Not when his eyes glitter with simple glee as he does so. “Thank you, darling.” Morgan clears his throat and closes his eyes, thankfully keeping him from noticing the effect the endearment had on you. Regrettably, the effect of him calling you “darling” to you has only gotten stronger with time.

Before you can dwell on it, Morgan makes a sort of clicking noise in the back of his throat. He’s tried to explain to you once why all of his songs started that way, but you’ve never truly understood. Not that it really matters because it’s always followed by him opening his mouth to sing.

A beautiful wordless melody begins to flow from him.

Haunting and alluring on its own, you know his siren song must be far more potent to the criminals he’s purposely luring back here. Every member of the team was introduced to Morgan before the operation began, so Morgan was able to exempt them. His control is impeccable, but they’re still liable to get distracted. Nothing magical about that. It’s hard not to when a master like Morgan sings.

Morgan primarily sings in the siren’s language when he performs spells such as this one. He says that for spellwork there’s simply more nuance and specificity in Soprety than in any other language when it comes to the subject of things such as lures, madness, lullaby and so on.

Despite knowing very little of the language, you still understand the message the song is trying to convey: where are you going? Come back, join me, this is where true happiness lies. Such is the power of a siren’s song. It’s hard to articulate the difference between the magical pull of a compulsion and the mere auditory pull of Morgan’s smooth voice. He’s never truly tried to compel you, but each time you hear him you have to put effort into focusing, into not simply basking in his voice. That’s only gotten worse the longer you’ve known him too, the more times you’ve heard him.

You don’t think it's that his singing is better, it’s only that it had seemed in the beginning, despite it’s obvious beauty even that first time, somewhat generic. Artificially or distantly beautiful. Now, his voice is so clearly entwined with who Morgan is, you can’t fathom how you thought it generic initially. His coaxing nature, always ready to persuade you to follow his lead, is woven through the words he sings as clearly as it is when he tries to convince you to take a coffee break. His promise of something better, something more fun and entertaining, if you only would listen. Of course, in this case, the outcome will only be entertaining for him. His seductive way of complimenting those he wants so that they will make the best choice by choosing him.

The music he makes is all very compelling is the point. You huff and focus back on the messages from the team—text since they’ve all got ear plugs in and don’t want to interfere with Morgan’s spell. You don’t need the plugs, as his partner he can exempt you easily and you’ve practice functioning while he sings. Besides it's always good to have someone who can hear him in case he does need help. You check again to confirm how many you are nabbing. Seven, natural for a coven, even a criminal one. That means the rest of the operation didn’t manage to catch a single member.

Usually illegal covens are more subtle, caught due to smaller disturbances or the wrong people stumbling upon them on the wrong night. This crew has been smuggling truly nasty ingredients for dark magical spells, bewitching or killing anyone who tried to interfere. They’d been making a big enough splash despite their travels and have caught major heat by now.

The National Investigatory Agency has been tracking them. They followed the trail of memory loss and death they left in their wake. That’s not even mentioning the longer term problems that would impact a community after they’d traded their illegal and dangerous wares—increases in love potions, poisoning, and general curses. You’d managed to catch a break locally. Someone had lost their nerve about this year’s shipment in your city and your department was coordinating with the NIA for this capture. Well, at least your team was—truthfully most of the local office was just providing backup.

Morgan, as always, had a habit of disrupting the usual with just his presence. His skills had been enough to catch the head NIA officer’s attention and your captain had vouched for your effectiveness. As such, while NIA coordinated a wide-spread tracking net, your team would try to simply pull them back. It was a common enough play you two ran and this was no different.

There was some worry a witch might have protection, but most aren’t prepared for a siren song, not given how rare sirens are and especially inland. Besides, you’d unclicked the safety on your tranquilizer gun, that’s why you were here to watch Morgan’s back. He’d be pissed if you let someone interrupt his song.

Movement on your left draws your attention. A woman stumbles out from between to shipping crates, her expression muddled but searching, urgent. You check for the signs she’s ensnared as she walks closer. You’re only supposed to handle the ones who weren’t, so you let her approach once you’re convinced. When she spots Morgan, high on his perch and singing his heart out, a look of joy and greed takes over. She hurries towards him.

You wait a second before nudging a fellow officer with your boot. A transfer from another precinct, he’s not been involved in one of these operations before. He shakes himself, tearing his eyes away from Morgan to look at you. You jerk your head at the coven member and he blushes. Hastily pulling out his handcuffs, the orc goes to secure her while you train your tranq gun on the man darting out from a different doorway. This time an NIA member snags him before he can press up against the base crate Morgan’s on, for which you’re grateful.

Technically, Morgan should have crafted his spell so that the listeners won’t be too desperate to get to him, despite how he was enticing them. People will still react differently than each other so there’s no guarantee when trying to pull in a group like this. Morgan said that the more people, the less control he had over anything more than the base aim of the spell. A lullaby could put ten people to sleep, but they would likely all end up sleeping for different amounts, whereas if it was just one or two, he could control how long they slept for.

Similar thing here. He can pull them in and do his best to keep them calm, but there’s more margin for error. And Morgan’s one of the best there is. Arcane workings are always more complicated and nuanced than most people assume. If they weren’t, you’d be out of a job making sure any mistakes or malicious workings didn’t hurt anyone.

There’s a text that the NIA agents caught a pair on their own, meaning three more to go. It’s not long for them to join the others. The officers who are familiar with these types of stings are efficient, cuffing the ensnared with practiced ease.

You wait for the confirmation, all using sign language to confirm the criminals are secured. That’s your cue to whistle, two fingers in your mouth and loud enough to cut through Morgan’s song—you’ve had to practice. The whistle lets Morgan know you had them all and he flips his hand to show he’s heard. He’d never just cut off the song—for specific arcane reasons, but also because he considers it poor etiquette from a musician’s perspective. He carefully and artfully wraps up and slows down, gentling the song until it fades out.

You can’t help but feel as enraptured as the criminals are, although you try to hide it. It's too hard not to when you’re in love with him.

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milkteabinniechan · 2 months ago

Note

HI! How would Chan deal with his smaller partner intimidating him and also turning him on by being more assertive and in control? Would he lean into it or feel conflicted? Is it even something he secretly craves, not having to lead in private as well? (I have binged your entire masterlist and it's flawless - it has moved me to send my very first SKZ ask. Thank you for writing such hot, hot things with my favourite boy.

♡Simon Says - Chan

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: bf! Chan x fem! reader

warnings: angst, dom reader, size kink

a/n: thank you so much for the suggestion! lmk if y'all want a full fic♡ and I am so, so, so sorry it has taken me so long to answer these!

“I can’t reach it!” you stretched your arms out but it made no difference at all. The perfect coffee mug was perfectly out of reach. You grunted and stretched farther, standing on the very tips of your toes.

Chan came around the corner chuckling softly, “here, let me get that.” He towered over you and grabbed the coffee mug in one easy motion. He brought it to your face, his cocky smile growing wider.

You quickly snatched the coffee mug from his hands and stomped away. There was a significant height difference between you and your boyfriend. It was glaringly obvious when the two of you would walk down the street together. You noticed people staring and whispering under their breath. It didn’t really bother you.

They most likely were wondering how the two of you had sex. And if you could stop them on the street and confront them, you’d march right up to them and declare: He fucks me great. He fucks me hard. He fucks me soft. He can pick me up and spin me around like a goddamn ragdoll. I’ve never had this many orgasms in my entire life. But instead, you let them whisper and wonder. It was entertaining, at least.

But today, with the coffee mug. You couldn’t get Chan’s smug little face out of your mind. He knows that you have a favorite mug. And he put it on the highest shelf. On purpose. You sat on the couch stewing. Just boiling in your anger until you thought of a perfect way to teach him a lesson. A lesson in humbleness. A lesson in humiliation. A little experiment to see just how much your big, strong boyfriend could handle.

Chan made himself comfortable in bed. His boxers ruffled up and scrunched against his muscular thighs. He lazily placed his arms up over his head and let out a long sigh as his head fell back onto the pillow. You stood in the doorway for a minute, drinking in the sight of him. There was just something so delicious about dominating such a strong, confident man. You could barely contain yourself as you made your way over to the bed.

“Hi, baby.” You whispered as you crawled in next to him. Chan smiled softly, patting your head and giving you a small kiss on the cheek. Your face split into a devious grin, “Let’s play a game.”

Chan’s eyebrows raised at your blunt statement. You weren’t asking him, you were telling him.

“Uh. Sure, baby. What game?”

You propped yourself up on your knees to face him. Your eyes flicked with desire and a hint of something else that Chan didn't recognize.

“Do you remember the kid’s game ‘Simon Says?’” You spoke in a low tone, your face inching closer to his.

“Yeah. I think so. One person is ‘Simon’ and everyone else has to do whatever that person says, right?”

“Very good! And tonight, I’m Simon.” You smirked.

Chan chucked softly and shrugged his shoulders, nodding slightly. “Sure, baby. Whatever you say.”

Your heart felt ready to burst as you watched your big boyfriend agree to what he believed to be a simple childhood game. “Great. Simon Says, get on your knees.” You said firmly.

Chan furrowed his brow, his face twisting with disbelief. “Are you serious?” He huffed but soon complied and assumed the position on the floor beside the bed.

He looked up at you, his face slightly red from embarrassment. You glanced down at him from atop the bed. You smiled proudly and gave him a few taps on the bed. “Good boy.”

He lets out a small whine upon being called a ‘good boy’, his cheeks turning a bright red. For someone that was as tall and powerful as he is, he turned into a shy mess pretty quickly. You smirk victoriously at the sound of Chan’s submissive noises.

“You like being my good boy, don’t you?” You speak softer, running your fingers through his hair.

Chan avoids eye contact for a moment, unsure of how to answer. He’s never seen you act like this before. And he never thought that he would be enjoying it as much as he was. The thin material of his boxer shorts left little to the imagination as a long, thick outline began to grow beneath them. Precum was already soaking through the front as you gripped his chin to force him to look at you.

“I can’t hear you. I asked you a question.” Your voice is a little cooler now. Chan swallowed hard and locked eyes with you.

“Yes… I like it. I like being your good boy.” His cock twitched as he spoke. Like a truth serum that would always reveal his true desires. And right now at this moment, he desired to do anything you wanted.

Your eyes sparkled as you thought of the possibilities. What you could make him do. What were the limits? He was such a pretty mess, you just had to see how far the two of you could go together.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthoress @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star

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toxic3mmy · 7 months ago

Note

consensual somnophilia with alex?

somnophilia: the urge or desire to have a sexual encounter with a sleeping person

prompt: alex fucks you while you’re asleep

warnings! smut! [consensual]

it was finally the weekend. your best friend alex had asked you to come over to hangout and you obliged.

“hey lexie, wanna smoke?” you asked, as he let you into his home

“you already know my answer to that” he rolled his eyes playfully

the two of you sat on his back porch and passed a joint to one another.

as you smoked, your eyes got heavier and the two of you delved into deeper conversations.

“what do you think about… like weird stuff in the bedroom? like with a partner?” he asked you

“what, like shit kinks and feet kinks? definitely not for me” you giggled and alex shook his head

“no, well kinda. like.. there’s this specific thing that i kinda find interesting. it’s like when two people have sex but one is asleep and of course it’s consensual, but i was just wondering what you thought about that”

“hmm.. well honestly, i think that’s pretty hot. with someone you trust, it could be a fun experience, y’know?”

“yeah… yeah definitely. hey, thanks for not being weirded out by me bringing this up. i’ve never really mentioned it to anyone but i trust you” he said, almost as if hinting at something

“of course alex, i trust you too. you’re my best friend and we can always talk about anything at all. and for the record,” you said, getting the confidence to move closer to alex and whisper lowly, “i’d let you fuck me in my sleep”

“w-what? man, you’re just baked” he said incredulously

“no, well yes i am but i mean it. and i’m not saying it because i’m not sober. i mean it.. you’re my best friend, my other half. and god damn are you attractive. you’re so fit that i have to constantly stop myself from staring at you 24/7” your mouth was now running on its own, spilling out secrets that you’ve kept from alex

“y/n… now you’re definitely busting my balls…” he laughed shaking his head

“i’m not, i’m being completely serious lexie. i’m really surprised you haven’t noticed”

“i… didn’t know you felt this way about me… is it a sexual attraction or?”

“the sexual attraction is definitely there, but it’s always been more than that. i like the way you do anything to make me laugh. and i see the things you do that show me you care for me. i’m kinda crazy about you, alex. i don’t wanna make things weird between us and i really do understand if you don’t feel the same—”

“n-no!” he yelped making you jump slightly as his voice got loud

“i mean… nothing could break us apart y/n. to be honest, i um… i think of you, too… in many ways” and that made you smile

you shoved him playfully, “look at us being all mushy”

“yeah” he laughed “but um y/n?”

“yeah?”

“did you mean what you said? about letting me do things while you were asleep? consensually, of course..”

“i did mean it, but why don’t we slow down there, cowboy. start at the beginning” you said, bringing his face closer to yours

you inhaled from the joint in your hand, pressed your lips to alex’s and breathed the smoke into his mouth

“fuck, that was hot” alex chuckled, tracing his fingers along your jaw, bringing you in for a real kiss

your lips moved together slowly. he tasted so sweet. you felt his tongue asking to be let in. you moved your tongue alongside his and slowly began to suck on his tongue. this elicited small whimpers from alex and it really turned you on.

you pulled away as you felt the nighttime breeze pick up

“let’s get inside, it’s cold”

the two of you set up snacks in front if the sofa as you binged movies together. you’d get distracted here and there with wandering hands and long makeout sessions.

eventually, the weed in your system took over and you felt yourself falling asleep. alex was way too invested in the movie to even realize you’d passed out. he looked over at you and smiled at how peaceful you looked. he laid you down and placed a warm blanket over you. for the next hour, his attention remained on the tv.

“mmm lexie..” he heard you sigh in your sleep

he turned to look at you and reached his hand out to brush your hair away from your face. you nuzzled your cheek into his touch while still asleep. alex couldn’t resist running his fingertips down your body.

his hand inched up your shirt, pinching your nipples lightly and enjoying the way you whined in your sleep. he pushed your shirt up and replaced his fingers with his mouth, sucking on your hard nipples.

he was hovering above you, careful not to put his body weight on you as he grinded his hips into yours.

he was panting softly and you were still asleep. he threw the couch cushions aside and laid behind you as if he were cuddling you. he took his pants and boxers off, pumping his hard cock in one hand. his other hand slipped your sweatpants down without waking you. he moved your panties aside and began to rub his tip between your wet lips.

he slowly began entering you, feeling how tight and wet your pussy was. he moved slowly behind you with his hands on your hips. you started to shift in your sleep and he slowed his pace even more. once you settled, he sped back up.

his thrusts woke you up and before you could even open your eyes to realize what was happening. you were already letting out strings of filthy moans.

“f-fuck…”

“you like that, sweetheart? waking up with my cock deep inside your tight little pussy?”

“yes alex…”

“yeah, say my name again baby, i love the way it sounds on your lips”

“oh a-alexis… please…”

“that’s right, just like that baby, keep saying my name”

“alex, im so close”

“you can let go, sweet girl. i want you to make a mess all over my cock”

and that’s exactly what you did. you came and your tight hole quivered around your best friend’s cock.

his thrusts stuttered as he reached his climax. he pulled out and you felt him leaking out of you.

“you… you should do that more often” you panted, clinging to alex

“id love to, y/n”

you laughed and curled up into him, enjoying the closeness

alex cleaned you up and held you for the rest of the night.

#alex quackity #alexis quackity #quackity #quackity x reader #quackity fanfic #quackity x y/n #quackity smut

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simonisferal · 10 months ago

Text

Valentine — wanderer x gn reader

erhmm, kaveh gets taped to the ceiling, obvious courting/pining, reader's a fucking simp, wanderer's a small bitch/affectionate

guy came up to me and became my valentine, now i gotta reject him because i dont see him like that 😭 but happy valentines day!!

1.5k words

Valentine’s Day was literally today and you were stressing about what to get your lovely partner! Well, not really. If anything, you’re freaking out on how to confess your feelings for them and *then* ask him out. Crazy, and very last minute, you know, but hear yourself out!

You’ve been pinning and courting him for a while. It’s painfully obvious that you liked him, or at least you think.

Wanderer had no revelation. Sometimes he thought that the flowers and large amounts of flowers, snacks and drinks you left on his desk or mail was part of a big prank. Not even his new friend group (“Aggravate”, as Cyno called them) could tell him differently.

They were walking down the halls, ignoring most people who gawked and eyed them. It wasn’t rare for people to look at the five beauties but it was fairly worse since it’s a holiday.

”You excited?” Tighnari, one of the only people who have a brain in this dumb school, mentions.

"For what?” He pauses his walk.

“Oh! For his little secret admirer to come up and confess!” Kaveh squeals. Alhaitham, who stood behind him only snorted but stayed quiet. Tighnari looked to the side but nevertheless agreed with him, “Something like that. I was going to say chocolates or a present but that works.”

Cyno interjects, “Maybe a letter? Something simple to not attract too much attention to you, I would guess.”

”Oh please, I doubt that prankster has the balls to come up to my face and say something, let alone a fake confession.” Wanderer says, not only denying the idea but shooting down Kaveh’s suggestion as well.

"Booo! Where’s your passion for love? I don’t understand how people like you, babes.” Alhaitham pats Kaveh’s back but we all know he thinks it too.The puppet snorts but doesn’t refute anything else. He continues to walk, leaving the four behind while they head to their classes.

Wanderer was interrupted many times by others trying to give him gifts, making him late several times. He grew tired of the holiday and just wanted to go home. Maybe Tighnari can give him something to ease his mind when it's time for study hall.

But they never show up. Wow, ‘real friends’ my ass.

When he goes to his next class, down a small hall in the Vahumana category, Wanderer only sees the empty class. There was no way he was late or early or even in the wrong classroom.

His wary behavior didn’t cease when he noticed a singular note on a desk, his desk. Wanderer didn’t hesitate to pick it up, his smooth hands running over the frail paper before unfolding it from its fold.

Dear Wanderer, it read.

You’re probably reading this with caution or at least looking behind your back right now but I can assure you, nothing bad’s gonna happen as you read this! (I don’t know if that sounded ominious ominous or not so, sorry :( )

I’m the one who keeps buying you flowers and those snacks if you didn’t know by now! I actually have something to tell you and I really hope you come to the library or else I’ll kind of look like a loser lol— Your secret admirer

ps: I’m a little offended you think this whole thing is a prank, Wanderer :(

Damn. He closed the piece of paper and ran his hands through it again. ‘Yeah, right. Like someone would actually love me enough to do this’, he thinks.

Wanderer shoves the note into his short’s pocket and sits down in his seat. There are small trinkets and sour candies in the desk with another note, “Just in case you get hungry :)”. …He sighs. He takes one of the candies in his hand and starts unwrapping the wrapper. ”You guys can come out now. I finished reading the letter.”

There was a small hint of silence before anyone spoke.

"Oh thank the gods, I thought you were gonna leave us here.” Kaveh groans. Both Tighnari and Cyno reveal themselves from hiding in a closet and Alhatiham just turns around in the professor's chair.

”Kaveh?! How’d you get up there?” Tighnari leaves the closet, passing by Wanderer to get under Kaveh, who was duct-taped to the ceiling. He looked sick and frail and like he was about to throw up.”I asked Alhaitham to help me like three hours ago but he never got me down! I missed a bunch of classes..” He whines. Tighnari gives Haitham a glare but the grey-haired male ignores it.

”I’ll help you down, okay?” Tighnari comforts Kaveh and stretches his hand out towards the closet. “Cyno, give me my bow.”

”Alright.” Cyno starts reaching into the closet while the four of them could hear Kaveh pleading, “Wait! No! I can get down myse—!”

Wanderer’s ears ring at the loud sound of Kaveh crashing onto the floor. Joking, of course. He used his anemo powers to safely get the blond down.

"You four are such a hassle.” He groans.

"Well?”

“‘Well’ what?”

”Are you gonna go?”

”Go where?”

”The library, for god's sake!”

Cyno nods along. “[Name] is waiting for you there.”Wanderer groans again while everyone else looks at Cyno like he just admitted to a murder. They whisper as the puppet crosses his arms in his seat. “I’m not going to a dumbass library to just meet [Na]—…[Name]?”

"Oh wow, Cyno spilled. Expected it to be Kaveh.” Alhaitham retorts. Wanderer could only hear a small ‘hey!’ from the thoughts running through his head.

Believe it or not but you were the second place bachelor in the Akademiya. Most girls and guys would be pursuing you right now but you were just in the library? And you liked him? Yeah, right, he’ll have to see it with his own eyes.

”Fine, come on. Let’s go.” He stood up from his seat and began to walk out the classroom, leaving the four boys again.

”Should we go after him?” Kaveh asked.

"You just fell off of a ceiling, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go…”He whines again but wipes his butt from any dirt from the floor. “Okay…”

”I’ll stay with you.”

”Alhaitham, what?”

”You heard me.”

Both Tighnari and Cyno left to chase after Wanderer, the quick fellow already somehow causing a commotion in the halls. You were sitting in the library when Wanderer ran in. You expected him to come, not because you thought of him as a hopeless romantic but because you knew he’d want to see such a wanted figure as yourself actually liking someone.

”Good afternoon, Wanderer.” He heard.

You were carrying a Sumeru rose in your hands, fiddling and admiring the petals and thorns. He just stood in front of you, not believing it wasn’t a prank.

”’Good afternoon’ my ass. What do you want?”

You frown. “Did you not read the letter I left for you?”

He crosses his arms and scoffs. He had an obvious face of disdain, still not believing you. “Why yes of course I did. And just so you know,” he took a small step closer. “I still think this is a dumb joke.”

That statement couldn’t help but make you laugh. “Really? Aren’t a lot of people pursuing you? What about me courting you for, like, 3 months?”He falls silent. You weren’t known for your jokes, most people (excluding Cyno) thought you were unfunny. You also weren’t a liar—everyone calls you honest and trustworthy that even Wanderer can only imagine how many promises you’ve completed.

”Look. I’m really not joking…” You stand up from your chair at the library, taking small steps towards the short male. You extend your hand, showing him the rose you had been admiring for so long.

“I like you.”

Ha… Haha.. He starts laughing. Wanderer found you absolutely stupid. No one, ever, would actually admit to liking him—let alone on a holiday all about love. You had to be an idiot to even think about him romantically.

The puppet stops laughing after noticing you hadn’t gone away or laughed with him. He raised an eyebrow and looked at your frown. “Seriously? You’re an idiot.” His rude remark did nothing to hide the small smile on his face. It was amusing, such a silly thing actually. Who knew you would be such a dumbass for love? Now he doesn't feel even a single drop of guilt for eating all those snacks.

That look on your face says it all. You're in love with him. Pathetic, honestly. But Wanderer'll give you (and himself) a chance at this little game called life. He finds this little situation funny now that he knows it's not some sort of sick joke.

”Fine, I’ll give you a chance.” He takes the rose in his hands, twirling it with his fingers. He looked up at your excited smile. Humans are so easy to please, he thinks but it doesn't stop the small smile crawling on his own face.

”Just don’t bore me.”

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