#so how can people who were no present when they met know the nature of their relationship? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mochacoda · 3 months ago

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night d(r)ive | yjh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x GN!Reader

Synopsis: As a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think that you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen. (Spoiler: You don't.)

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers | College AU

Tags: short hair jeonghan, extreme pining, liking ramen as a plot device, crying, being losers for each other, insecure reader, lots of konglish w/ translations, overly indulgent kissing, no "y/n,” this is for everyone who voted jeonghan in the poll <3

Word Count: 5.8K

Masterlist

You‘d like to think that you know Yoon Jeonghan well. Surely, you do! Over the years, you‘ve come across—and committed to memory—dozens, if not hundreds, of his little oddities. You’ve witnessed his personality change with the length of his hair, and learned the hard way that cheating at card games is like second nature to him. At this point, you can recite more information about his pet rock than ramen, which is somewhat terrifying if you dwell on it for too long, considering that ramen is your favorite food.

But despite Jeonghan’s chaotic personality, you also know that he’s incredibly smart, having sat next to him in countless college lectures and trivia events.

Honestly, it can’t possibly be a stretch to say that you know the man too well, can't it? And at times, it feels a bit unfair that you can only reply, “oh, I know him,” when people fleetingly mention him in conversation. It hurts that you can’t clarify that you know him—that you can’t ramble on about how he made the stupidest joke to make you laugh when you were upset about your most recent midterm, or handmade you the sweetest present for your birthday, or let you choose your favorite film for movie night for the third time in a row—because no one wants to nor needs to hear about it.

But, unfortunately, that’s all you can think about these days.

Because, unfortunately, Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, and most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met.

Yoon Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. Though he gives into his internal demands for petty possessiveness quite often, he cares deeply for his friends.

He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his nonchalant but somewhat firm indifference for dating. You’ve witnessed him casually turn down far too many objectively gorgeous and incredibly intelligent people, which has convinced you that his standards are impossibly high. And if you were honest with yourself, based on the people he’d already rejected, it would be laughable for you to even think about confessing to him.

And so, as a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen.

In fact, you’re sure about the ramen issue, because you’re witnessing it happen right now.

You’re staring at his smirking face in the instant food aisle of the convenience store, both of you gripping the last Neoguri cup like it’s a trophy.

“You gotta learn patience,” Jeonghan tuts, his lips upturned infuriatingly at one corner.

“No, you should learn patience. 손 빼, [Take your hand off,]” you demand, grasping the cup tighter.

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says in a sing-song voice, raising his chin in defiance.

The ramen cup creaks slightly under the pressure of your combined grip, and a terrible thought forms in your head. Your hand is sandwiched between his hand and the cup, making you feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s something you’re afraid you could get used to.

You narrow your eyes, targeting his ridiculous, perfect lazy smile. “Take it off while I’m being nice.”

“Nah,” he replies immediately, smiling wider, his tongue sliding to the right.

Your heart lurches at the sight.

“치사하게 진짜 이럴 거야? [You’re so petty, are you really going to be like this?]” You chew on your bottom lip, eyes flitting between his face and his hand.

Jeonghan tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes sharp and steady on yours. He’s not really looking at the ramen anymore, and the intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“내가 여기서 이 옷을 입고 있는데, [I’m wearing these clothes here,]” he says, using his free hand to pinch the fabric of the expensive suit he always wears at his internship. “굳이 라면 하나 때문에 나랑 싸운다고? 그냥 빨리 가자, 음? [You’re really gonna fight with me over just one ramen cup? Let’s just go now, hmm?]”

You press your lips together and jut your chin in defiance.

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. His shaggy, dark hair flows with it, and you can’t help but think that he looks princely like this, standing in the middle of this convenience store with his stupidly gorgeous face, and that dumb suit and tie.

“양보해. [Give it up.] I’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, his voice dipping lower. It feels less like an offer and more like a taunt, a challenge. His tone sends a small shiver through you, and for a second, you’re not sure if he’s teasing or serious.

You have to take a slow, deep breath to calm yourself down before even considering what to say next. You’re grateful for the ride (and his company), of course, but that doesn’t mean he can steal your rightful claim under your nose, in the same casual manner he has when letting one of his fans down.

You’ve always given into him. Because he means everything to you, of course.

But you’ve had enough of letting him have his way so easily, not with your precious ramen at risk.

You boldly step closer to him, cutting the distance between the two of you in half. You’re close enough to see your reflection in his eyes, now.

“I’m not letting go, 하니 [Hannie].” You firmly shake your head. You wouldn’t let him win this time. “I don’t want anything but this,” you add, stubbornly.

Tugging hard, you try to pull the cup toward you, but it frustratingly remains stuck on the shelf between the two of you. Looking back up, you see that he isn’t even straining to keep the ramen in place! You frown, wondering when your best friend got so strong.

He leans in just a fraction closer. “Keep trying,” he murmurs, and he’s so close that you can feel his warm breath tickling your face.

The world narrows to Jeonghan, and the faint scent of the cologne he only wears on weekends. It’s dizzying.

“야아아! [Hey!] I was here first!” you weakly defend, voice embarrassingly squeaky.

And then Jeonghan does something that completely short-circuits your brain.

His free hand lifts and brushes your hair away to your back, before resting on the divot between your neck and collarbone, where his thumb caresses the side of your neck. Feather-light, his touch is gentle, and his fingers are impossibly warm, a stark contrast to this slightly chilly convenience store. You just about choke on your surprise, your heart kicking into overdrive at the sheer intimacy of the gesture.

God, how is it that you never get a rest day with Jeonghan? How is it that he’s always flirting, always disregarding the boundaries of platonic and romantic love, always making you confused? And how is it that you just let it happen, that you just take whatever affection he gives you? How is it that you’re drawn into his dangerous touch like a moth to a flame? Except that analogy doesn’t really work, because at least moths don’t know that they’re in danger when they reach fire—you know what you’re getting into, and you know all too well that Jeonghan will never be yours.

“Please?” he whispers.

Your breath hitches, suddenly aware that even for your overly-touchy friend, this level of skinship is extreme.

Does he know? Has he found out that you’re in love with him, that you’ve been keeping this ungodly secret from him for far too long? Does he know that every time he lets someone down, that every time he complains to you about people confessing and crying over him, you give him superficial laughs as you swallow your own feelings?

Does he know that you feel like sinking into the ground every time he entertains a random girl flirting with him, and that every time he crosses boundaries with you, it hammers in the fact that he thinks you’re a joke?

Does he know that you’ve spent over a year trying to convince yourself that you don’t have feelings for him, only to fail miserably, because there is no such thing as cutting Yoon Jeonghan out of your life, because he makes you feel so, so alive?

He must know. He must be making fun of you, now.

Your eyes widen, frantically searching his face for an ounce of malice. And you expect to see the look he always has when shredding the hearts of the brave people who confess to him, the face he makes when he casually tells someone that he doesn’t feel the same way. You expect to see an almost-cruel, blank stare paired with apologetic lips pressed together.

You expect him to crush your heart.

But instead, he’s staring at you with a gaze so, so, very soft, you wonder if you’ve hallucinated it. Shining eyes, raised eyebrows, mouth parted—he looks devastatingly beautiful.

You can’t even bring yourself to blink, afraid that it might disappear before you can commit it to memory.

Technically, he’s looked like this before—you’ve seen it a handful of times on movie nights when you leaned against his shoulder, sleepily rambling about the bad decisions the main character had made. You’ve always figured that it was just the face he made when he was running on eight percent battery, tired and only half-registering the words coming out of your mouth.

But now, seeing this version of Jeonghan out of its usual context, your heart stops.

Your grip slackens.

In an instant, Jeonghan takes advantage of your daze. He snatches the ramen, links his arm through yours, and drags you to the counter. Your feet stumble, but his hold on you is firm, keeping you stable throughout the entire sudden exchange. He sets a bill on the counter, and then you’re being ushered out of the convenience store.

The freezing cold bites at your cheeks as you stand in a haze of confusion by the passenger seat of Jeonghan’s car, unable to do anything but just watch as he starts the engine and unlocks the door. He stares at you through the window, waiting.

If you could move a muscle on your face, you’d furrow your brows, wondering what he’s waiting for. But you’re still frozen, and before you can really think about it, Jeonghan gets tired of waiting.

He gets out of the car and walks over to you, squeezing your shoulders as he shifts you a little to the left. Withdrawing one of his hands from your shoulders, he opens the door, and then maneuvers you inside, using the same hand to cover the top frame of the door. You bump your forehead slightly against it, and he buckles you into the passenger seat—all without a word.

When you blink owlishly at him, he just ruffles your hair and shuts the door carefully, then walks over to the driver’s side.

Dazed, you literally have nothing to say.

When Jeonghan gets back into the car, he looks over at you with an unreadable gaze, then reaches his hand over the console to you, this time holding an object out. Your eyes flicker downward, then shoot up at him immediately.

The ramen?

You squint at his outstretched hand, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

Jeonghan never yields.

“Take it,” he says simply, airily, as if his giving up was obvious all along.

You hesitate, finger lightly tracing the top of the cup.

“Come on,” he insists, his eyes still intensely trained on yours. “I… it was always yours.”

Your fingers close over the cup, brushing his hand. He exhales softly, the corners of his lips twitching.

Averting your eyes from him and his strange actions, you drop the ramen in your lap, then settle for staring outside the window at the night sky, finding it unbearable to look at him. Drumming your fingers against the border of the window, you get lost in thought. You’re not sure you can handle it if Jeonghan tries to flirt with you again. Every time he does it, it just hammers in the crushing idea that you’re nothing but a friend to him. That you’re just someone to practice on while he waits for the goddess of his dreams to appear, or something.

And then a strange thought occurs to you. A silly thought, really. When Jeonghan said that the ramen was always yours, he didn’t use the “ih” sound that the word “it” has. No, he used the pronoun “I” first, before correcting himself. A faint, pitiful smile makes its way to your lips as your heart pangs.

Just what would you give to hear him say “I was always yours” someday?

Oh, maybe everything.

────୨ৎ────

The gentle hum of the car engine fills the silence from the lack of conversation between the two of you. The moon and the stars are beautiful tonight, and you’re content with staring at them instead of the man driving the car. You prop your head up with your elbow against the window, closing your eyes with every lull of the engine. If Jeonghan ever looked over at you at a red light, you wouldn’t know, preoccupied with pretending to be asleep.

When you feel the car come to a complete stop, you’re still feigning sleep, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows slightly. Surely, 40 minutes haven’t already passed? It seems way too soon. Had you actually dozed off at some point between staring out the window and faking sleep?

You peek one eye open, only to startle at Jeonghan’s gaze trained on you already, immediately opening the other. He seems completely at ease, with one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other resting on the gear shift. He stretches his fingers, accentuating the veins on his forearms, and you have to avert your eyes for a moment.

“잘 잤니? [Sleep well?]” he asks casually.

You look back at him, and see a strand of his dark hair fall into his eyes. Fingers twitching, you fight the urge to brush it behind his ear.

You answer him with a nod and flush, wondering if he could tell you were acting the entire time. Hands itching for something to do, you fiddle with your seatbelt.

“야, 나 좀 보고 말해봐, 음? [Hey, can’t you look at me and talk, hmm?]”

You glance at Jeonghan out of the corner of your eye, then shy away again. He looks too good right now, too much like a doting boyfriend. You pick at a loose thread from the bottom hem of your shirt.

“자꾸 나를 안 보니까 섭섭하네. [You keep not looking at me, I’m sad.]”

You faintly laugh. In all your years of knowing the man, you’ve yet to see Yoon Jeonghan truly sad. He’s always, always composed. He never says anything without thinking about it first, and he doesn’t have to lift a single finger that he doesn’t want to, because he knows that people will jump just to fall at his feet. It’s funny that Jeonghan now just assumes that with a few pretty words, he’ll get his way.

But your resentment is growing. It started with the ramen, and built up with how he won at the end of the fight. And it peaked when he gloated under the guise of kindly yielding the cup to you, leaving you stranded in your confusion, leaving you to sort out your racing mind and heart. What’s worse is, he has a history of doing this to you. But you never learn. Because he also has a history of giving the best, warmest, longest hugs. And he tells you all the time that he wants to be with you forever, that even when you’re 80 and wrinkly, he’ll come over every day to sing duets using your karaoke machine. And he has a bad habit of staring into your eyes with so much adoration, that you mistake it for real love.

He has a history of making you think that his flirting might actually mean something real to him. But he never confesses any feelings, because they don’t exist, and you feel the pain of being used as romantic practice all the same.

You’ve tried to convince yourself to just accept his affections as platonic love, but it has become increasingly more difficult to ignore it. How can you, when you get a rush of serotonin from seeing how bright his smile is when he whispers an inside joke to you in the middle of your fatally boring math discussion? How can you, when Jeonghan insists on picking you up from work even though it’s a waste of time and gas for him to make the far drive here and back? Your heart has grown to accommodate, and even expect, the constant fluttering it feels in his presence.

So, to be exact, it’s not that you feel resentment toward him—it’s resentment for your lack of a backbone when it comes to all things Yoon Jeonghan. It happens all the time; you get mad at him, and the consequences last for all of five seconds before your will caves.

“근대, 안 섭섭하잖아, [You’re not sad, though],” you softly say, eyes now tracing the glow of the crescent moon.

Jeonghan shifts in his seat, questioning your words. ”What? Why would you say that?”

“아니야, [No,] forget it.” You sigh, eyes falling to your hands again. Picking at a hangnail, you inhale deeply.

“Why wouldn’t I be sad? I love talking to you.” He removes his hands from the wheel and gear shift, then reaches out for yours.

You flinch, and he freezes.

“Hey, did I… do something wrong?” His voice shakes, suddenly sounding strained. It’s the complete opposite of how he was just three seconds ago.

You swallow thickly. No, he didn’t do anything wrong. “아니, [No,] it’s my fault.”

He frowns. “What did I do? Please, tell me. I’m sorry, whatever it is, I can fix it, I promise.” He looks at you so earnestly, your heart sinks.

“그건 불가능해, 정한아. [That’s not possible, Jeonghan.]” The words come out slowly and breathily, as if it’s taken you half of your life force to say them. You stare out the window again, this time at the stars, and add, “We should really get back, now. Why’d you stop here, anyway?”

“I figured you didn’t eat yet,” he says carefully. “I thought you’d want to get Thai. When you’re hangry, you yell at the TV more, and I get complaints from my neighbors.”

You blink, turning your attention down to the stores lining the street rather than the night sky. Jeonghan really had driven to your favorite Thai restaurant. “Oh. I didn’t know I did that, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replies softly. “I never liked my neighbors anyway.”

Your eyes close, remembering when one of your classmates, who happened to be his neighbor, confessed to him. He had vented to you about friends needing to understand when not to cross lines. The memory makes you smile weakly again, acknowledging how strong you’ve been for managing not to confess so far.

Jeonghan continues, “But hey, your neighbors don’t like me, either. Remember when they banged on your door because we were singing too loud?”

You laugh this time, and it’s fleeting but it’s not forced. “언제 쯤 얘기야? [How long ago was that?] That was like two years ago.”

Jeonghan smiles. “You were wearing those teddy bear pajama pants, and I had my Cookie Monster pants on. They were like 70, and told us to stop being childish and grow up.”

“Maybe they had a point,” you say with a sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that you paid attention to those things,” you add offhandedly.

“Pay attention to what?”

“You know, just… the stuff I wear, the random shit I do,” you say, picking at your split ends.

Jeonghan’s wide eyes narrow, and you feel too hot under his intense gaze.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, voice deep and tinged with something you can’t quite put a finger on. The question feels strangely charged. With what, you don’t know.

You gnaw on your lip.

“Answer me. Why shouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, feeling put on the spot. “I’m just your friend. Shouldn’t you be spending your energy remembering weird stuff about a girlfriend? Like a serious romantic partner, or something?”

Jeonghan groans, running a hand through his hair, before it comes down on the console with a light thud. Your eyes widen at his unexpected physical display of emotion, taking in his clenched fists and heaving chest.

“하니? [Hannie?]” you say softly, concerned. He doesn’t normally resort to physical exertions when frustrated, probably because he doesn’t get frustrated very often at all.

Your hand reaches out to his right bicep, where you rub the muscle soothingly.

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he says with a marginally more relieved, deep sigh.

You furrow your brows. “What?”

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he repeats. “Please, don’t call me 정한 [Jeonghan]. Only 하니 [Hannie].”

“Okay?” you say tentatively, unsure where this is going.

“You know I love you, right?” he says suddenly, staring at his hands.

You blink rapidly. “Of course. I love you, too.” He’s your best friend, but you’re probably not his best friend.

Jeonghan jolts, looking at you directly in the eyes now. “You know I love you more, right?”

He looks a bit crazed like this, his frantic chocolate brown eyes searching deeply for something in your face. At a loss for words, you gape your mouth at him like a fish out of water.

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” you manage to say. “I bet I love you a lot more.”

The statement is accompanied by a rather self-deprecating laugh from you, the kind that digs deep into your heart even as you try your best to seem casual.

“No, no,” he says, reaching with his left hand to grasp the hand you’ve been patting his right bicep with. This time, you don’t pull away. “You don’t get it. I love you.”

What?

Your heartbeat begins to beat so loudly that the sound of it pumping overwhelms your thoughts. Your chest tightens, and you’re half-sure that you just hallucinated it.

“뭐라고? [What did you just say?]”

“사랑한다고, [That I love you,]” he chokes out, his voice thick with the one emotion you’ve been dreaming of him reciprocating.

You gasp.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Oh.

Crestfallen, your heart drops. You pull your hand away from him.

This must be his new way to get you to relieve your “anger.” He doesn’t actually love you romantically, he just wants you to go back to acting like you normally do. He’ll never feel the same way that you do, in the crushing way that drives you insane every day, in the way that—

“설마, 나를 지금 무시하는 거야? [No way, are you ignoring me right now?]” Jeonghan’s wounded gaze strikes you like lightning. “아니면, 나를 못 믿는거야? [Or, are you not believing me?]”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Is this real? A dream, maybe? The real Jeonghan would never say this. He would never, ever entertain the idea that you could ever be more than—

“내가 사랑한다고 했는데, 왜 아무 말이 없어? [I just said I love you, why won’t you say anything?]” Jeonghan’s voice quakes, and you’re taken aback by his pained, strained eyebrows and glittering eyes.

Jeonghan’s eyes well with tears. He swallows thickly, “나… 아니야? [Am I… not it for you?]”

Your breath catches. He’s crying. Yoon Jeonghan—Yoon Jeonghan is crying? You’ve never even seen him sad, let alone crying. He’s always been untouchable, effortless in the way he teases and flirts with you, so sure of himself. So nonchalant and casual with his affection, that you’d always thought he never truly meant anything by it. But here he is, raw and vulnerable in front of you, holding his heart out with both hands—eyes rimmed red, voice breaking, mouth trembling. All because of you?

He really means it, huh? The realization slams into you so hard you feel like you can’t breathe, let alone speak, your chest constricting like you’re having a heart attack. All those lingering touches, all these years. The way he’s always made you the center of his jokes, how he has the softest shifts in his voice when someone mentions your name—it wasn’t all a game to him? It was never just practice for someone else, for someone better?

It was love?

God, you had been so overwhelmed with self doubt and insecurity that you’d convinced yourself that you had no chance, all while he was giving you clues through his proud affections, every day.

The man in question looks at you like you’ve just shattered his fragile heart, tears fully trailing down to his chin, now.

Feeling like your entire body has been engulfed in flames, you reach a trembling hand out past the gear shift. It trembles despite yourself as your arm extends to caress his cheek, where you carefully rub his tears away.

Jeonghan shudders when your hand touches him, and he shuts his eyes. More tears fall.

“하니, [Hannie],” you breathe shallowly, still feeling an immense pressure in your chest. “Look at me.” When he doesn’t open his eyes, you swallow roughly. “하니, [Hannie], please?”

Stubbornly, Jeonghan keeps his eyes closed, and you shakily sigh. You want to tell him—no, you need to tell him that you love him with every fiber of your being, but you need to see his eyes to register whether he understands you. He needs to open those beautiful, brown eyes of his.

You’ve never told him that you love him in Korean before. Something about it always felt too intimate, while “I love you” in English felt less charged. But you think he needs to hear it now.

Withdrawing your hand from his cheek, you unbuckle your seatbelt at last. Finally freed, you shift your legs until you're sitting on the back of your calves, facing the stunning, devastated man in the driver’s seat.

“하니야, [Hannie],” you say softly, his name a prayer on your lips, your face coming near his.

You raise your hands up to tenderly brush the tears away from the soft tissue right under his eyes. Trembling, your right hand brushes a strand of hair out of his face, then rests on the back of his neck.

Heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you hesitantly move closer, and closer, until your lips gently meet his forehead in a kiss so light, you foolishly wonder if he even feels your lips there at all.

“하니야, 사랑해. [Hannie, I love you.]”

Jeonghan stills immediately. You can feel his hot breath catch against your neck, and you feel a shiver come down your spine.

“I don’t want anyone else. Just you,” you say choppily, each word spilling out before you can think about what you really just said.

When you retreat an inch or two back from his forehead, you can see that he has finally opened his eyes.

“You mean it?” he asks, voice high-pitched in disbelief.

Not trusting your voice, you nod three times.

“Say it again,” he begs, his red-rimmed eyes downturned.

“사랑해, 하니야 [I love you, Hannie]. I tried so hard not to. 내 마음을 접고 다른 사람을 바라보고 싶었어. 싶었는데… [I wanted to let go of my feelings for you and search for someone else. That’s what I wanted, but…]”

Jeonghan inhales sharply. Distressed, his Adam's apple bobs up and down. Your heart aches at the sight of him so exposed, and your thumb moves to rub soothing circles by his collarbone.

You assure him, “근데 그게 진짜 그냥 안 된거야. 도저히 너를 포기할 수 없었어. [But that really just didn’t work. There was no way I could bring myself to give you up.]”

Your fingers close to his neck, you feel Jeonghan’s pulse racing. Trying to help his heart settle down, you press another light kiss to his forehead, cradling the back of his head with your other hand. His breath shudders against your cheek.

“마음이 하니한테 만 끌리니까, 뭐… 포기하려고 노력을 했는데 소용이 없었어. [My heart was only drawn to you, Hannie, and well… no matter how hard I tried to give you up, it was no use.]”

Jeonghan blinks up at you with watery eyes.

“You’re it for me, 하니 [Hannie]. Okay?” Sheepish, you feel a bit embarrassed at having been so honest.

Now that you’ve bared your heart and soul to him, you take the opportunity to really look at him, since you were distracted with telling your part for the past few minutes—and, oh.

His pupils are so dilated, his eyes look almost black. His breathing has slowed down compared to earlier, but his fists are still clenched, like he’s holding something back.

In a low voice, so deep that it wouldn’t have been audible if you weren’t practically pressed against him, Jeonghan finally responds to your confession.

“You love me,” he says hesitantly, like he’s asking to confirm.

The corners up your lip turn up, and he grins. “You love me,” he says again, only louder this time, and then he’s leaning forward into you.

His hands find you first, clinging to your neck and waist sweetly yet firmly, like he’s afraid to let you go now that he finally has you.

When his lips meet yours, you melt into the kiss. His lips are warm, softer than you expected, moving against yours with an aching tenderness. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you in like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

He tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss, and a shiver runs down your spine when his thumb brushes along the curve of your jaw. The touch is so careful, so reverent, like he’s memorizing every part of you.

Then, he pulls back just an inch—just enough for his breath to fan across your lips, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes, dark and unreadable, search yours as if needing confirmation.

"You love me? 진심이지? [You’re serious, right?]" His voice is barely above a whisper.

Your chest tightens at the sheer vulnerability in his expression. You cup his cheek, brushing your thumb against his damp skin, and nod. "사랑해, 하니야. [I love you, Hannie.] 진짜, [Really,] I always have."

A sound escapes him—somewhere between a laugh and a sigh of relief—before he leans in again, kissing you with more urgency this time. His hands tangle into your hair, fingers curling at the nape of your neck as he presses you impossibly closer. The kiss is deeper now, more certain. He parts his lips slightly, and you do the same, the heat between you growing into something undeniable.

Your hands wander—one slipping into his hair, the other trailing down his shoulder. He shudders under your touch, and you feel the tension slowly unraveling from his body, like he’s finally letting himself believe this is real.

When you finally part for air, he lets out a shaky laugh, thumb ghosting over your kiss-swollen lips. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this," he murmurs, his voice husky.

Your heart swells at the confession. "Actually, I think I do," you whisper back before pulling him into another kiss, this time knowing—without a doubt—that neither of you are going anywhere.

────୨ৎ────

“하니, [Hannie,]” you say, leaning against him on the sofa in your apartment, drawing random shapes on his chest with your right hand. “We should go on a drive again.”

“Mm, a drive?” he says, distracted by his fascination with observing your left hand, holding it like a precious gem.

“Yeah, 바람 좀 새자 [let’s get some air]. A night drive.”

His hands stall, lips curling up at the corners. “Oh, a night drive, huh? 역사적인 거네. [How historic.]”

You bury your face in his chest. “Mmh,” you say to his shirt.

“You know, you said 사랑해 [I love you] to me for the first time on a night drive,” he says casually. His hands let go of your left hand, then make their way to your head, patting your hair gently.

You prop your chin up on his stomach, expecting to see Jeonghan’s pure smile. But instead, he’s smirking at you.

“You wanted me so bad.” He sighs dramatically. “What else could I do, but accept your love?”

You can’t help but smile. “I think you’re misremembering things a little, 하니 [Hannie].”

“Oh, am I?” he gasps, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

If he were anyone else, he’d look stupid feigning ignorance. Fortunately for you, though, he isn’t anyone else—he’s the love of your life, and he makes everything look good.

“Ugh,” you say, eyes shining. “You look dumb, stop it.”

“You love it,” he says cheekily, arms falling from your head to wrap around you in a big hug.

“Mmfph,” you say in response, relishing in the warmth radiating from his body.

“Not denying it, I see,” he says. “Overwhelmed by your love for me, you dove at my poor, innocent self in the car, kissing me all over!”

“Pfft,” you laugh. “No, that was you!”

“No,” Jeonghan pouts.

“I happen to remember a little crybaby confessing first,” you say with an upside down smile, hugging him tighter.

Jeonghan’s eyes look up at the ceiling. “무슨 말인지… [I don’t know what you’re talking about…]”

“야아! [Hey!]” your hand slaps his chest lightly. “나 좀 봐봐, 음? [Look at me, hmm?]”

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says, pouting.

“사랑해도 안 볼 거야? 섭섭하네… [Even if I love you, you won’t look at me? I’m sad…]” you huff, burying your face into the sofa pillows instead of Jeonghan’s chest. “하니가 안 사랑해주면 난 갈 거야. [If you don’t love me I’m gonna leave.]”

Jeonghan laughs, “가긴 어딜가, 여기 너네 집이잖아. [Leave? What do you mean, leave? This is your house.]”

Jeonghan hugs you tighter, then suddenly sits up, taking you with him.

“사랑해, [I love you,]” he says earnestly, staring deeply into your eyes, as if he wants to dive into the depths of your iris. Your name leaves his lips fervently, like a prayer.

“사랑해, 하니야, [I love you, Hannie,]” you say back, and you mean it.

Because Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. And he’s yours.

Masterlist

Author's Note: here’s a big literary hug <3

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone - @fragmentof-indifference - @junniesoleilkth - @woncheecks - @peachypie97 - @viciousdarlings - @11zzyy

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mrpenguinpants · 4 months ago

Text

Marbled Steps

— Marble requires precision, care, and the right tools for the job. Not so different from people. With too much time, stubbornness, and bandages, even the toughest exteriors can be chipped away.

— Lighter

Part 2: Stepping Stone Light spoilers for Lighter's backstory, I made up most of it. [Masterlist]

When I tell you how long I was uninterested in ZZZ until I got two-hit comboed by Lighter and Harumasa? I went a bit too crazy in the backstory but inb4 zzz rips my headcanon's away from me.

Lighter

When Lighter was first introduced to the Sons of Calydon, you knew he was bad news. It was written all over him. He had the dead-eyed stare of someone just coasting through life on autopilot, a man who moved because he had to, not because he wanted to. His knuckles—split, scarred, and raw—looked more like hardened sinew and calluses than anything resembling normal skin. It was the kind of damage that didn’t come from a single fight but months of them like his fists were tools and nothing more. And then there was his attitude—or lack of it. He didn’t talk much, hardly made eye contact, and moved with an almost mechanical precision. You’d met machines with more personality than that.

You were against him joining from the start. You didn’t care how good of a fighter he might have been or how Big Daddy swore he could be useful. There was something off about Lighter, something unsettling that tugged at the back of your mind like a warning you couldn’t quite articulate. But orders were orders, and Big Daddy’s word was gospel. So you swallowed your irritation, slipped on a pair of gloves, grabbed the man’s rough, battered hand, and dragged him toward your makeshift clinic without so much as a look back. The rest of the group had been watching the newcomer with wary curiosity, but you were more practical. There was no way you’d let those mangled hands spread whatever grime or infection he was carrying to the others. Your first moments with Lighter were marked by the stinging smell of disinfectant and cotton swabs as your audience.

After that disaster of an introduction, you rarely saw Lighter unless it was in brief, passing moments. He never lingered, never stayed to chat, joke, or even let himself absorb the group's chaotic energy. To him, everything seemed to boil down to business, payment, and the next job. He was like a ghost in the group’s midst, always there yet never really present. The Sons of Calydon had their share of larger-than-life personalities, the kinds of people who could fill a room just by breathing, but none of it seemed to leave an impression on Lighter. Everything they threw at him whether it was good-natured teasing, warm camaraderie, or even the occasional shouting match, bounced off him like rain drops against a stone wall. Not a crack, not a chip. For a while, you figured he’d just up and leave, disappearing into the wind in search of whatever suicidal purpose had brought him to this part of the Outer Ring in the first place. It seemed like something he’d do. Pack up without a word, leave everything behind like it didn’t matter, and press forward with the same hollow determination he always carried. And if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure you’d miss him all that much. How do you miss someone who never really lets you know them to begin with?

That’s why the scene you stumbled onto one afternoon caught you off guard and shifted your entire worldview. You’d been walking along the outskirts of Blazewood when you saw a group of thugs closing in on someone. At first, it was hard to tell who they had surrounded, the Outer Ring was full of conflict after all, and gang scraps weren’t anything new. But then you recognized the familiar silhouette. Lighter. He stood in the center of the group, shoulders squared and fists clenched at his sides. The thugs spat words about how “sticking your noses into other people's business,” was against the Outer Ring’s unspoken rules, accusations sharp and heavy with menace. You didn’t catch every detail, but the gist was clear enough. The Sons of Calydon had made enemies and, apparently, Lighter had been dealing with them all on his own. That realization hit you harder than you expected. You hadn’t heard so much as a whisper about conflicts between the Sons of Calydon and the other gangs. Had Lighter been dealing with this on his own? Stepping into fights, taking the heat, and keeping the peace in silence while the rest of you remained oblivious? The thought gnawed at you, unsettling in a way that lingered like a bad taste. It was just like him, wasn’t it? To keep the dirty work quiet, never letting anyone see the mess he was cleaning up.

Naturally—because really, what else could you have expected—Lighter had won the fight, even with the odds stacked heavily against him. It was hard not to feel a flicker of awe watching him fight with nothing but his fists. His movements were raw and unrefined, a brute force approach that relied on instinct and sheer willpower more than precision. Still, there was something almost mesmerizing about it, the way he pushed through every hit like it was nothing, determined to end the fight as quickly as possible so he could move on to whatever errand he thought was more important. But as the group's medic, it made you insane. Watching him use adrenaline like some sort of makeshift painkiller, ignoring injuries that any reasonable person would be on the ground crying about, was enough to make your blood boil. Your medic bay was the only place in the Outer Ring anyone could trust to provide reliable treatment, and Lighter’s insistence on throwing himself into fights like he was made of titanium was testing your patience. Seriously, how the hell was he still walking around like everything was fine after taking a beating like that? The man was a walking contradiction—a fighter who refused to stay down, but also too stubborn to take care of himself afterward. Part of you wanted to stomp over there, shake him until some sense rattled loose, and yell at him to actually rest for once in his life. The other part of you wanted to drag him straight to your clinic and lock him there until he got the idea through his thick skull.

Once the fight was over, the thugs sprawled out and groaning, your patience had enough. You marched over to him, your footsteps heavy with purpose, and stopped just short of planting yourself directly in his way. Lighter, of course, didn’t react to your presence. He probably knew you were there anyway because, on top of being the stubborn wall, he just had to be creepy like that. His knuckles were red and raw, and the bruise already blooming under his eye told you he’d taken a hit harder than he could have if he just stepped back instead of going for that last swing. The blank look he shot you, like nothing was out of the ordinary, only fueled the fire bubbling in your chest.

“Come on, you’re done here,” you snapped, grabbing him by the wrist before he could so much as protest. The man might’ve been stronger than you, but you weren’t about to let him wriggle out of this one. Not today. “We’re going to the clinic, and don’t even think about arguing. You can walk on your own or I’ll drag you, your call.”

Predictably, he grumbled under his breath, his resistance half-hearted at best. You could see it in the way his shoulders sagged—he wasn’t about to fight you on this, not when he was already spent. Still, he made it clear he wasn’t happy about it, his muttered complaints trailing behind you as you led him toward your makeshift clinic.

“If you don’t let me patch you up, I swear to Big Daddy I’m ratting you out,” you warned, casting a sharp glance over your shoulder. “And you know the girls will overreact. I’ll even sit back with some popcorn and watch the fireworks if that’s what you want. So either you cooperate now, or you deal with them later.”

That finally got him to stop grumbling, though he shot you a glare that might’ve been intimidating if you weren’t already used to it. He let out a defeated sigh, dragging his boots as if to make the walk to your clinic as dramatic as possible. A groan escaped him as he muttered, “Whatever you say, firecracker.”

Despite the irritation brewing in your chest at the nickname, you felt a small flicker of satisfaction. At least he was coming with you—albeit reluctantly. You didn’t need to say it out loud, but deep down, you knew this stubborn idiot needed someone to force him to stop. To take a breath. To realize that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to carry everything on his own. And if that meant tracking him down to drag him into your clinic every time he came back battered and bruised, so be it. You've been meaning to work on your arm strength.

Of course, because Big Daddy had a knack, almost like a seer, for spotting the potential in people, Lighter eventually began to change. Slowly, he warmed up to the group, and something shifted in those dead eyes of his. A bit of light returned, faint at first, like the flicker of a dying match, but steady enough to notice. He loosened up, no longer wound so tight that you half-expected him to snap at any second. The coiled tension that once defined his every move started to unravel, replaced by something...well- alive. No longer waiting for someone to tell him what direction to throw his hands. Pieces of his old personality, buried under what felt like miles of dust, mud, and bad memories, began to surface. Little green buds sprouting where you hadn’t thought life could grow. It wasn’t anything dramatic, nothing you’d see in some triumphant moment in the movies, but it was there. Small things. Like the way he'd actually sit down beside you around the campfire rather than brooding in the shadows or how his shoulders seemed just a bit less rigid when you needed to patch him up for the nth time.

He still wasn’t good with names, though. Not at all. The nickname "Firecracker" had seemed to stick and you had rightfully assumed he didn't actually know your real name. But for everyone else? It was like his brain short-circuited whenever he had to recall someone’s moniker. He’d stumble over syllables, brow furrowed like it was the hardest battle he’d ever fought until he finally landed on something almost right. You remembered the time he’d called Caesar “Seasaw” one too many times. The sight of watching him fumble, all rough edges and misplaced vowels, had been funny in a way you couldn’t quite explain that you couldn't help but laugh. Funny, but also strangely endearing. There was something about seeing this man, this stoic fighter who seemed born to brawl, turning pink at the ears, tripping over words like a schoolboy, that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t completely unreachable.

That didn’t mean he stopped getting into fights. Lighter was still Lighter. He kept his demons close, dragging them with him like shadows wherever he went. His fists still led him places, often leaving him knocking on your door at all hours of the day or night. He’d show up with a split lip, scraped knuckles that looked like they’d been dragged across gravel and that same hollowed stare that never quite went away, no matter how much light he’d let in. You’d huff, muttering something about how you weren’t running a full-time hospital, but he’d just sit there quietly as you patched him up, his silence heavy enough to drown out the room. Even though he had never "lost", he didn't look like a winner. Still...it was an improvement that he was at least coming to you rather than hiding away to lick his wounds by himself.

Once, you’d joked that he must like the color of his blood with how often he bled for no good reason. You’d expected him to brush it off, maybe fire back some sharp quip of his own, but instead, he’d muttered—deadpan—that he’d thrown up a few minutes ago just at the sight of it. That shut you up quick. You’d stopped making jokes about his health after that. It wasn’t as funny when you realized how thin the line was that he walked every day, or how much of himself he’d chipped away just to keep going. Baby steps, you had to remind yourself. You weren’t sure what exactly you were hoping for—some grand breakthrough, maybe—but you knew better than to expect too much too soon. Every failed attempt at getting him to crack a smile felt like a loss, but you’d tell yourself it was progress just to keep from giving up on him entirely. You weren’t going to admit it out loud, but part of you had started to care. A little too much, maybe.

While it was a slow and steady climb, everyone eventually reached the top. Sure, you haven’t seen Lighter let out a full-blown laugh like the rest of the group does, and honestly, you think you’d be terrified if you ever did. The idea of Lighter laughing, really laughing, feels like something unnatural, like it’d crack the very foundation of who he was. But still, progress is progress, and you can confidently say that Lighter has earned his place among the Sons of Calydon. He’s become a part of your little-found family, even if he fits into it like a jagged puzzle piece. He didn't even run away this time when you tried to take a picture to commemorate this grandiose development!

When Billy was let loose to pursue his own journey, it felt like the end of an era. Billy had been the group’s champion, the one everyone looked to when the fights got hard or the nights got dark. With him gone, the question of who would step up next loomed over everyone like a heavy cloud. Although, wasn't the answer obvious? It wasn’t more than a few minutes before you found yourself vouching for Lighter. It made sense, didn’t it? He was the best, after all—undefeated in every scrap, a relentless force that never seemed to break no matter what got thrown his way. His fists were as reliable as clockwork, and if anyone could carry the title of champion, it was him. The decision came easy for the group. A few voices of agreement, some claps on the back, and it was done. Lighter himself didn't agree with the results of the poorly run election, a grimace on his face pulling his mouth at odd angles, but alas, once you get the ball rolling there was no stopping. But the moment felt big, even if no one dared to call it that. There’s something about the way a shift like that cements someone’s place in the group, making them more than just a stray taken in. Lighter wasn’t just there anymore; he belonged.

To mark the occasion, Burnice cracked open a can of Nitro Fuel and passed it his way, the group’s rough equivalent of a ceremonial toast. But it was when you stepped forward, holding out something small but significant, that the moment truly landed. A red scarf—fresh, clean, and carefully presented by you, their makeshift doctor. A memento from Billy, just with a few added accessories to fit the newly appointed champion. You weren’t sure if Lighter even understood the weight of the scarf, but he took it without a word. For a heartbeat, you swore you saw something flicker behind his tired eyes—a spark of gratitude and resolve, maybe, or something close to it.

And then it happened. A sound so quiet you almost missed it. A soft laugh, barely more than a breath, escaped Lighter’s lips. It was faint and rough, like a memory of laughter rather than the real thing, but it was there. It wasn’t the kind of laugh you’d expect—nothing loud or joyful—but it was enough to make the moment stick with you. You didn’t comment on it, though. You just smiled and stepped back, letting the rest of the group crowd around him with their half-joking cheers and pats on the back. For all his deadpan looks and quiet stoicism, Lighter was their champion now. And if the soft laugh was any indication, maybe—just maybe—he was starting to believe it too.

Really, that should have been your first warning. A giant, blaring signal complete with flashing red lights and alarm bells. Seeing those lips part in a husky, unguarded laugh that escaped before he could regret it, and watching that light—soft but unmistakable—return to his eyes should’ve told you everything you needed to know: the next few months were going to leave you an absolute mess. How you didn’t notice it sooner is beyond you. Maybe it was stubbornness. Maybe it was because you had your hands full, or maybe you were just being an oblivious mule. Either way, it hit you like a freight train one day: Lighter was… really handsome. Incredibly so. Unfairly so. As the medic for the Sons of Calydon, you’ve seen more than your fair share of half-naked men and women—enough that the sight doesn’t even faze you anymore. A bare chest is a bare chest when you’re stitching someone up or doing routine physicals. And for the longest time, that applied to Lighter too. If he stomped into your clinic bloodied and shirtless, you were all business. It was just work. Professional.

But now? Now that Lighter had started to loosen up, to let himself belong among the group, you were seeing him in a very, very different light. From playing along with Caesar's ridiculous scenarios, staying sober so Lucy could finally stop playing caretaker and let herself relax, to turning the radio's volume down when he noticed Piper about to drift off to sleep. Most importantly, there was no damn distraction to save you when he pulled off that worn biker jacket and undershirt during sparring matches with Burnice. It made sense, you told yourself. He didn’t want his clothes to catch fire. Burnice’s sparring matches weren’t exactly gentle, and leather jackets weren’t fireproof. It was practical, completely logical—nothing more! Certainly not a ploy to make you feel like you are on the verge of seeing the gates of heaven far too early. And yet, there you were. Frozen. Staring. Watching droplets of sweat roll down the sharp lines of his abdomen like they were defying gravity just to mess with you. Forcing yourself to look away was suddenly a task requiring herculean strength. And the worst part? Your brain didn’t even give you a fighting chance. It wandered without your permission, a little voice whispering things like “Oh, so that’s what a body sculpted by fistfights and bad decisions looks like...what were we thinking about again?"

You were trying to be professional—really, you were—but it was getting harder every single day. Case in point: Lighter had just dropped onto the bed inside the medic bay after another job, peeling off his jacket with that same maddening, careless motion he always had—like undressing in front of you wasn’t a one-way ticket to your complete and utter ruin. And to make matters worse? He didn’t even have any real injuries! There was one—count it, one—itty bitty little cut on the side of his hip. Barely even noticeable. You were convinced he’d probably done it himself just to have an excuse to bother you. How dare he. You dragged in a deep breath, squaring your shoulders as if preparing for battle. Because you need to make it clear, this was life and death for you at this point.

“Really?” you said, deadpan, trying not to look directly at him as he lounged with that infuriatingly calm energy. “You’re out here making a scene over this?”

Lighter tilted his head slightly, his expression neutral but with just enough of a smirk to drive you crazy, “Didn’t say it was bad. Figured you’d wanna check.”

“You mean this tiny paper cut sent you crying here?” You let out an exaggerated sigh, forcing yourself to focus on the tiny cut on his hip as if it were a serious injury—though you couldn’t quite bring yourself to believe that. It was just a scrap. A tiny thing. Yet, there he was, acting like he was on the brink of death. You fumbled with the bandages, your hands betraying you as they shook more than they should have. You stared at the spot, trying to ignore how absurd this whole situation was, but still feeling the pressure of his steady gaze. Your fingers weren’t cooperating, fumbling as you tore off a thin piece of tape. This was supposed to be simple, yet here you were, making a bigger deal of it than it really was.

“Still standing, aren’t I?” Lighter cracked one eye open to glance at you, and for a second—just a second—you thought you saw the faintest glimmer of amusement. This cheeky brat.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered under your breath, finally pulling out the smallest bandage you could find. You crouched beside him, determined to slap it on and get him out of there as quickly as possible. But of course, when you leaned closer to inspect the so-called injury, you realized your mistake. Lighter hadn’t moved an inch, his posture relaxed, like this was just another ordinary moment for him. That lazy confidence of his made everything worse, making it harder to ignore the sharp, defined lines of his stomach, the way his skin felt warm even through the faintest brush of your fingertips. Your breath caught for a split second, but you forced yourself to focus. You swallowed hard, trying not to dwell on the way your pulse was racing, and pressed the bandage over the "wound", not letting your fingertips linger on the soft skin, “There. All better. You’ll live to fight another day, champ.”

You stood up quickly, your movements stiff as you gathered the scattered supplies, and turned your back to him, half out of instinct, half out of necessity. You couldn’t risk him seeing the way your cheeks had flushed, the heat creeping up your neck and settling on your face like an unwanted mark. The last thing you needed was for him to catch on to how much he’d affected you. No, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing. It would be far too embarrassing, and you definitely weren’t ready to face that kind of vulnerability, not with him, not yet.

Lighter let out a soft chuckle, the sound light and maddeningly soft. You hated how it seemed to echo in your chest, stirring something you couldn’t quite name. It'll be imprinting into the folds of your brain labeled specifically for his laughs because you were a psycho who did things like that, “Told you it wasn’t bad.”

“Next time you come in here for no reason, I’m charging you a medic’s fee. Double if you don’t bleed. Someone’s got to keep you in line,” you shot back, but your voice came out softer than you’d intended, almost warm. You couldn’t help it. The way the sunlight caught him just right, casting gentle shadows across the sharp planes of his face, made everything feel… quieter. For a beat, the air hung heavy between you, thick with something unspoken. His gaze locked onto yours, steady and unreadable, and you felt a strange, unexpected pull.

“Yeah, but if I fall, I know you’ll catch me and pull me back," Lighter’s voice was casual, but it was heavy. Af if he was stating a fact or a universal truth. He tilted his head back against the wall, the gesture almost too relaxed for these words, as if time itself had slowed down just for him. His hand brushed over the bandages you’d carefully placed, the motion languid and unhurried like he wasn’t just tending to a simple injury but savoring the quiet, the stillness between you. Each pass of his fingers over the bandages was deliberate, a slow rhythm that seemed to draw out the moment, making it stretch and linger like he wasn’t in any hurry to go anywhere. What the hell? What are you even supposed to say to that? This is so unfair, super unfair.

“Anyway, you’re good to go,” you said quickly, your voice a little more strained than you intended as you tossed the used wipes into the trash, taking a small step back. You found yourself brushing your hand over your ear, almost absentmindedly, as if trying to shake off the lingering warmth of the moment, or maybe just to steady yourself. You couldn’t quite tell. You checked for any heat under your touch, feeling a bit self-conscious, but the action didn’t feel quite as innocent as it should have. “Try not to get into another fight before dinner, would you?”

You can hear Lighter stand, stretching with a deep, satisfied groan that you definitely didn’t file away in your mental catalog for later, “No promises firecracker. Some fights come lookin’ for me. I'll save you a plate, but don't take too long or I'll eat it instead.”

You rolled your eyes, but despite yourself, you couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at your lips as you waved him away. Damn him. The way he carried himself, so effortlessly fitted into his bones, made your heart do that annoying little flip that you couldn’t quite control. The smile lingered longer than you wanted it to, and you hated how much he could still get under your skin. Baby steps, you'd tell yourself, but still progress.

It wasn’t as if you’d ever expected anything to happen between you and Lighter. Sure, Caesar liked to go on about destiny and how her romance novels always had similar plots, but that didn’t mean anything. You were fine with things the way they were—really, you were. Your feelings weren’t so ridiculous or territorial that you’d go snapping the heads off anyone who talked to him. In fact, you were glad that everyone thought of him fondly. He deserved that. He had a way of drawing people in, making them feel seen, and honestly, it was nice to know you weren’t the only one who appreciated that about him. Still, you just wished everyone would stop trying to play matchmaker. That, quite literally, would be the worst thing ever. Not because the idea of Lighter seeing you as something more wasn’t appealing—it was, and you’d be lying if you said otherwise—but because the Sons of Calydon collectively shared one working brain cell at best. The very thought of them trying to orchestrate a confession or some contrived romantic scenario was mortifying. Caesar, of course, was the ringleader of it all, constantly preaching her philosophy of bold, loud declarations of love, chest puffed up and voice ringing for all the world to hear.

And every time, you’d look her dead in the eye and remind her of the months she spent silently pining over her first love, fantasizing about confessions she never made until it was too late and they’d moved away. That love story had ended not with a bold declaration, but with an awkward goodbye and the realization that she never even liked them in the first place. Besides, the thought of your feelings being laid bare for everyone to see? If that ever happened, you’d find the nearest oil pit and swan dive into it without a second thought. The embarrassment alone would be enough to finish you off. No, it was better to keep things as they were, safe and uncomplicated, even if it meant ignoring the nagging thought of what could be. Some things, after all, were better left unsaid.

Burnice was only marginally better than Caesar. Sure, she wasn’t quite as loud about her “proclaim your burning love and passion” philosophy, but she had her own infuriating quirks—chief among them being her obsession with matchmaking. Maybe all that Nitro Fuel was starting to mess with her brain. She had an uncanny knack for spotting opportunities to stir the pot, and whenever the moment arose, she’d make a scene. Without fail, she’d find some contrived excuse to pull Lighter into your orbit, nudging the two of you together as if proximity alone would somehow spark a whirlwind romance. Never mind the fact that you already knew Lighter well enough—too well, really. You’d seen the man at his lowest, whining like a baby about heatstroke after stubbornly choosing to wear that ridiculous heavy leather jacket in the middle of a blazing afternoon. And yet, Burnice acted like you were strangers in need of a push, her attempts so blatantly obvious that you couldn’t look her in the eye for a week afterward. Those eyes of hers practically sparkled with mischief, and the memory of her smug expression alone was enough to make your skin crawl.

But what made it worse—so much worse—was that Lighter wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t oblivious to the madness unfolding around him, just tripping on the reason why it was happening. Perhaps it was an inside joke at your expense? You’d never forget the moment when he tilted his head, looking at you with that furious concern, about if someone broke your heart and if he needed to knock their lights out. It had been said with such casual sincerity that it had left you utterly speechless, your brain scrambling to decide whether to laugh, cry, or crawl into the nearest hole and never emerge.

Piper and Lucy, thankfully, had a more hands-off approach to the whole situation, though that didn’t mean they left you entirely unbothered. They understood, perhaps better than anyone else, how precarious the balance was. How one wrong step could send everything crashing down. Still, their restraint was only relative. Piper couldn’t resist her playful jabs, her slow teasing remarks always accompanied by that sly, knowing smile. And Lucy, ever the practical one, delivered her opinions with the sharp precision of a scalpel, cutting through your defenses whether you wanted her to or not. You half expected her to whip out a whiteboard filled with colorful markers. They had their arguments ready, like they’d been keeping a running list of evidence to throw at you. Piper, with her casual observations about how Lighter’s gaze lingered a little too long when you weren’t looking, and Lucy, with her unshakable conviction that you were too blind to see what was right in front of you. They’d remind you of the small, unmistakable gestures like the way Lighter’s posture changed when you entered the room, how his relaxed indifference seemed to shift into something sharper, more focused. They noticed how he always managed to save his best, most effortless smiles for you, how he’d offer help to you before anyone else without a second thought. Even your name, spoken in passing, seemed to make him perk up like he couldn’t help but respond to anything that revolved around you. Piper loved to point that out, making it seem like some grand cosmic joke you were too stubborn to get, while Lucy preferred to frame it as a ticking clock. To her, it was only a matter of time before someone else noticed him and decided to take their chances.

A gang of Thirens had made a pit stop in Blazewood, their arrival unexpected but surprisingly uneventful. They’d come seeking nothing more than a place to rest, not to stir up trouble, a rarity in and of itself. Kasa, seeing no problem in lending a hand, had granted them permission to stay, with the firm condition that they kept the peace. To everyone’s astonishment, they honored her terms without so much as a hint of hostility. It wasn’t often rival gangs showed even a sliver of willingness to cooperate, let alone behave like decent human beings. Rarer still were those who managed to charm the locals, but these Thirens were doing just that. Their easy smiles and polite demeanor had disarmed the townsfolk, who quickly warmed up to them. Laughter could already be heard echoing through the streets, strangers turned companions over shared drinks and stories.

But while everyone else seemed content to embrace the unexpected camaraderie, you were about two seconds away from dunking your head into the nearest barrel of cold water. It wasn’t the Thirens’ presence itself that rattled you, nor their good behavior, but something else entirely—an unspoken frustration simmering just beneath your skin. Your nerves felt frayed, stretched taut, and every moment of forced composure only added fuel to the fire threatening to ignite inside you.

You clenched your fists, trying to steady yourself, but the thought lingered: if you didn’t find a way to cool down, you might just explode like one of Burnice’s flamethrowers, leaving nothing but chaos in your wake.

"Wow, what's your workout routine? Your biceps are so defined."

Never mind cooling off, you were going to rip that lynx Thiren’s tail clean off and kick her straight to the curb before you even thought about dunking your head in cold water. The entire time she’d been in Blazewood, she’d grown bolder and bolder with Lighter, testing the limits of your patience with every sly remark and flirtatious gesture. At first, it was casual. A few light touches here and there, a fleeting brush of her hand as she laughed just a little too hard at one of his blunt jokes. You’d told yourself to let it go. She was a guest, after all, and the last thing anyone needed was unnecessary drama. But then she escalated. Full-blown wrapping her tail around his arm under the pretense of "measuring" the circumference of his triceps-to-biceps ratio? That was the last straw. If she was so curious, she could bring all her questions to you. You’d be happy to explain. Preferably while she was running as fast as her legs could carry her out of town.

Before Lighter can even begin to gently but firmly remove the tail from his bicep, another hand comes down with the speed of a strike, swatting the offending limb away with a swift motion—like a cat swatting at an annoying fly. And a cat would be the perfect comparison for how you look at that moment. Teeth bared, eyes narrowed, claws metaphorically out and ears flat against your head in pure, unfiltered territorial instinct. Your hand immediately shoots up to wrap around Lighter’s other arm, the one that hadn’t been tainted by the lynx’s touch, and you pull it to your chest, holding it possessively. There’s no mistaking the intent in the way you hold onto him, the clear message that this one’s taken so back off.

You and the lynx share a pointed, searing glare. Neither of you bothers to mask the silent standoff, both of you sizing the other up in the most primal way possible. There’s no subtlety in this, it truly is an animal kingdom.

"Sorry, miss, but I need to borrow my gang member for some private business. I'm sure you understand," you say, your smile wide and innocent, though the murder in your eyes is as sharp as a blade. You glance up at Lighter with a pointed, almost desperate look, silently urging him to come with you now. Whatever expression you're wearing—serious, frustrated, or somewhere in between—it’s enough for Lighter to nod and start to move. But just as he takes a step, that damn tail wraps around his arm again, yanking him back like some sort of trap. The lynx’s sly, satisfied grin tells you everything you need to know. She wasn’t done playing yet. You grit your teeth. The only thing left to do is bargain with Burnice and make sure that tail goes up in flames. "Accidentally," of course.

"I'm sure your other members can be asked. You're all capable, aren't you?" The lynx sneers, her ear twitching in agitation as her claws come out in warning. You raise your chin, turning your nose up at her in response. You’d like to see her try. If she thought she could take a swing at you without consequence, she was sorely mistaken. The tension thickens, and it’s all too easy to imagine how this might escalate. You can feel your hands already twitching to grab for her, ready to turn this into a full-blown catfight. But before anything hits the boiling point, Lighter tenses beside you. With a quiet, fluid motion, he frees his arm from both your combined grips, gently but firmly pulling away. It’s a perfect, almost effortless escape, and in that moment, he stands between the two of you like the undefeated champion he truly is. Even between two people crying for his attention, he manages to slip by with ease, a subtle reminder that he’s always in control of the situation.

"Sorry, doc's orders," Lighter says smoothly, his voice laced with a calm finality that brooks no argument, "If you need anything, ask any of the Sons of Calydon. Like you said, we're all capable. And if you’re looking to step up your workout, speak to the boss."

Then, as if to punctuate the moment, he places his hand at the small of your back, his fingers blistering hot against your skin. With a slight push, he leads you away, his steps measured and steady, pulling you effortlessly from the chaos. You resist the urge to glance over your shoulder, but a small, spiteful part of you can’t help but wonder what expression the lynx is wearing. Shock? Disbelief? Maybe even a twinge of jealousy? The thought of her standing there, seething with frustration, gives you a twisted sense of satisfaction. You imagine her, the confident, bold creature who thought she had a chance, now left standing in your wake. But, frankly, you’re too absorbed in the rush you’re feeling—surging through your veins like wildfire. The excitement of the moment, and the subtle victory. It’s intoxicating. You feel like you’re walking on air, every step of Lighter’s guiding hand filling you with a heady sense of power. Maybe seeing the gates of heaven early isn’t so bad after all. The thought flickers in your mind, but you can’t bring yourself to care. The world is yours now, and nothing, not even a scorned lynx, can take it from you.

"So, you wanna fill me in on what that was firecracker?"

And just like that, you’re plummeting back to earth, gravity pulling you in hard. What was that? Did you black out for a second? Did some other version of you just take over and make a damn fool out of yourself? When did you get so bold, so… possessive? Your heart pounds in your chest as you replay every move, every look, every gesture, and it makes you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Mass hysteria, that’s it. That’s the best explanation. Maybe you’re just dreaming, wrapped up in some fevered nightmare. Any second now, you’ll wake up, face buried in a pillow, your heart still racing from the humiliation, and you’ll scream bloody murder into it, swearing never to think about today again. Or… maybe, if you're really unlucky, you’ll throw yourself into the nearest oil pit just to escape this entire disaster. Either way, neither outcome seems particularly comforting, and you’re starting to think maybe both sound equally tempting right now.

"Heat stroke-induced hallucinations. I honestly have no idea what you're talking about," you blurt, the words coming out quicker than your brain can catch up. You force yourself to sound blasé, like you don’t care like it wasn’t a big deal. But deep down, you know it’s a pathetic attempt at saving face. The lie slips off your tongue like water, but it’s as fragile as glass. Lighter’s response is immediate, a bark of laughter that fills the air around you, genuine and light, the kind that could make anyone laugh along, but at this moment, it only makes the pit in your stomach deepens. He knows exactly what you’re doing. He knows you—and here you are, pretending to be clueless.

The silence hangs between you both, a strange mix of relief and tension, and you can’t decide whether it’s a kindness from Lighter—letting you escape the awkwardness—or if he’s just as unsure of what to say next as you are. Either way, it's slowly driving you mad. You can feel your thoughts swirling, like a tornado of "What do I do now?" and "Did I just make a huge mistake?". Hell, you even jumped up from your seat and hissed like some wild animal. You glance at Lighter, his easy stride never faltering, the faintest hint of some satisfied smile still lingering on his lips. It's the perfect opportunity, he doesn't even look freaked out which means even if he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, he won't run for the hills. Lighter had followed you. He’d walked right alongside you, and then—he put his hand on your back. It’s still there. You can feel the warmth of it, his fingers almost too casual as they rest on you, a small gesture that has your insides doing flips.

Should you just go for it?

The thought of him being swarmed by others, other people constantly hanging around, making it harder to even get a moment alone with him, suddenly makes everything feel urgent. And the weirdest part? You can’t help but wonder if, for once, it’s your chance to actually get ahead of the chaos. But then there’s the other side of your brain, the one telling you to be careful. The one that reminds you that if this goes wrong, you’ll have to live with the consequences of letting things spiral out of control. It's all too much, too fast, but here you are, standing in the middle of the storm, unsure of whether you’re about to leap into it or run the other way.

Ah, screw it. Big Daddy didn't raise a quitter.

"Lighter, I—" You stumble over your words, your thoughts scrambling as you take a shaky breath, trying to summon the courage to say whatever it is that’s been building up inside you. For a moment, the familiar walls you’ve carefully constructed around yourself seem to crumble, and you feel the weight of it all. The hesitation, the fear, and your own uncertainty. You turn to look up at him, and your breath catches in your throat. He’s already watching you, eyes soft and steady, not teasing or playful as usual. This time, there’s something different, something deeper. Softer, quieter, more malleable. It’s as if he’s been waiting for you for a long time now. Is this what Lucy was referring to when your back was turned?

"Yeah?" he prompts gently, his voice low and coaxing, as if he knows you need a little push but won’t rush you. His eyes remain fixed on yours, unblinking and patient, making the air feel thick with anticipation. You hesitate, but only for a moment. The weight of his gaze doesn’t feel as heavy as it once did. Instead, it makes your heart race in a way that feels... almost comforting. You can feel the nerves slipping away, the words starting to form at the edge of your tongue.

"I—uh..." You pause, taking a steadying breath, and this time the words come easier, "I just wanted to say that... I don’t think I’ve said it enough, but I really appreciate you. More than you probably know. I know I don’t always show it, but...I-"

You glance up at him again, afraid of what you might see. Would he laugh it off? Or, worse, would he back away? Instead, you find his expression unreadable, but not unkind. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t quite place—a flicker of surprise, maybe, or understanding—but you don’t regret it. Not now. Not when you’ve finally let it out.

"I just wanted to say that I li-"

"Yo! There you both are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

You jump away from Lighter as though he’d just set you on fire, a startled screech bubbling up in your throat before you force it down, stamping it out with all the dignity you can muster. Your heart pounds, and for a split second, you feel the world tilt on its axis. You whip your head around to find Caesar jogging toward you, waving her hand in the air like it’s just another day, completely unaware of the moment she’s just walked in on. Oh, sweet, oblivious Caesar...

"The Thirens challenged us to a friendly match! We can’t exactly go in without our Champion! You free to scuffle, Lighter? Oh, and if anything bad happens, I’m counting on you, Doc!" She beams at you both, her enthusiasm practically radiating off her, and just like that, you feel a little bit of the tension slip away. It’s impossible to stay mad at her when she’s looking at you like that. So full of excitement and energy, completely unaware of the chaos she just walked in on. Lighter, for his part, looks like a newborn fawn. His usual confident swagger seems to falter for a moment as he scratches the back of his neck, a slight blush creeping up his neck that he clearly tries to hide behind a forced grin. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, clearly caught off guard by the sudden interruption.

"Uh, yeah, I’m in for a friendly match," he says, but his voice is a little too hesitant, a little too unsure. He glances at you like he's not entirely sure what to do next. “But, uh... firecracker, you're still good to patch me up afterward, right? Just in case things... get out of hand?”

He gives you a lopsided smile, and for a second, you almost want to laugh at how unlike him he seems right now. You can’t help but feel a bubble of laughter rise out of you as the sheer absurdity of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks. The way Lighter is standing there, all awkward and fidgety, avoiding eye contact and tripping over words. You feel ridiculous, and you can’t tell if you're cringing more at how completely out of character this is or at how you’re both so blatantly fumbling through it.

You’re definitely not the smooth, cool-headed person you thought you were.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be there," you say, stumbling over your words like a clumsy fool. "Making sure you don't... uh, turn into a human pincushion, or whatever."

You wince the second the words leave your mouth. Human pincushion? Seriously? You could've come up with something better, but no, this is what happens when your brain turns to mush. You quickly look away, almost as if you're trying to disappear, but your cheeks are already burning, and there's no escaping it now. Lighter, looking just as silly, rubs the back of his neck in a way that makes him seem a little too much like a lost puppy. He’s not even trying to be smooth. He manages a half-smile, but it’s so awkward that it’s almost endearing.

“Right. Yeah, no one wants that. I’ll... leave the stabbing to the Thirens, I guess,” he says with a half-nod as if that makes any sense at all. It’s like the two of you are desperately trying to play it cool, but you’re both failing spectacularly. But then, like a breath of fresh air, Caesar’s cheery voice cuts through the ridiculousness. She grins, completely unaware of the awkward dance you two just performed.

"Great! Let’s go! We’re gonna show the Thirens who’s boss!"

And just like that, you both get swept up in her energy, still feeling a little bashful but grateful for the distraction. You chance a look at Lighter to see that he is doing the same, instantly averting both your eyes to the very interesting ground. Still, the top of the mountain is within sight.

Baby steps.

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willowed-wisp · 5 months ago

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könig as a dad (part three)[ könig ]

part one | part two

AGES 10 - 14:

- These are what he dreaded the most. Where kids think they’re smartasses and get addicted to video games and other sources…

- But he’s presently surprised when your two sons are very polite in supermarkets.

- They’re tall and more mature women ask for them to get things from the higher shelves- he was a proud dad that day.

- There’s definitely a rivalry between the boys but a friendly one.

- They walk your daughter home everyday that König is away

- I think at this stage, König asks for more of a strategic position which means he doesn’t go into the field.

- And you thought you’d never see that day, not complaining that he was at home. The most he was at work in the city was half a day, returning to your bed and trying to make another baby (you swear he still has baby fever)

- Friends of the boys don’t believe the age difference between you and your husband, because somehow König still has a slight baby face… he looked in his late twenties when you met him (he was about late thirties) and you were in your mid-twenties.

- Your daughter says to her dad, “I want what you and mumma have,”

- “And what’s that? Three little ones?” He tickled under her chin, he cherished that smile every day of his life.

- “No… how you look at each other… love…”

- He is NOT open to the idea of her getting a partner- whoever they turn out to be- he doesn’t want his little mouse to grow up.

- Your boys are on the rugby team and your girl does cross-country and long distance running

- All physical capability taken from König, unless you’ve done sports in the past- then you bicker over who’s responsible

- He definitely enrolls the boys in martial arts…

- Then your daughter begs him to go, she wipes the floor with her brothers.

- Teaches all of your kids carpentry, and your eldest absolutely gels with it. It’s like second nature to him.

AGE 15-19

- No boys in the house, that’s König’s rule, you stand by it in some respects especially when she gets older.

- However, “Wouldn’t you have her talk to you about people rather than going behind our backs?”

- He contemplates the idea, “She is my little mouse…”

- “Little mouse is becoming big mouse, König… don’t push her away by being papa mouse…”

- The next day on the way to her track and field training, she turns to you, “What did you say to dad? He’s been going on about little mice and ‘little mice don’t push away papa mice…”

- You’re confused to say the least, “But he also said that I can have people round the house- as long as my doors open,” That sounded strange and unlike your husband.

- “That’s good… did he say anything else?”

- “He’s been asking me names and addresses…”

- Ahhh…

- “Don’t give him last names or addresses, honey…” You looked at her, face dreaded with guilt. “You already told him, didn’t you?”

- You turn the car around after dropping her off. And find König staking out a 16 year old’s house, “Sweetheart… what are you doing here?”

- “Don’t play innocent with me… we’re going home. No more of… THIS…”

- He did stop, but still did background checks… he’s allowed to do those (his own logic)

- Your daughter only brought a girl home, they would study and bake with each other in the kitchen.

- “It’s nice she has a friend…” Your husband was so clueless.

- His eldest son raised an eyebrow, knowing the truth… “Talk to her, dad…”

- That night when it was just the family, your little girl came out to König. She was crying, terrified that he wouldn’t accept it- being a bit older than her friends’ dads.

- But all he did was bring her into a bear hug, like her brothers had when she came out to them. König really didn’t care what she identified as, as long as she was happy… he’d be happy.

- As for your sons, König doesn’t want either joining the military. Luckily for him, neither does.

- Your youngest wants to go into teaching, and your eldest wants to become an engineer- taking on his dad’s numerical intelligence.

- He was much more relaxed when it came to dating for the boys. You had the talks with them, much too awkward for König to do himself.

- Your youngest son would become a father at 19… fully supported by you two.

- Part of König is glad he has a grandchild while he’s under a certain age and can run around. Treats the grandkids like his own children.

- Maybe make them cry unintentionally but that wears off.

König is so proud of the family you and him founded on a whim after being together only a year after you met.

————

masterlist

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scorpihoe1111 · 1 year ago

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💔Chiron In the Houses💔

Chiron in your chart can tell you which part of your life is a touchy subject for you. Depending on the house it’s in, it can reveal the themes of your life that may have affected you greatly, or an area in your life that you may be insecure about.

Chiron in the 1H🧍🏼‍♀️

Something you may have struggled with through out your life is your appearance/self esteem. Those with this placement may have been bullied for their looks or something about them physically has been commented on/brought attention to plenty of times. The type of person to invest in plastic surgery they may not even need, or lose/gain a few extra pounds when their body is fine as it is. This placement, ironically enough; is found in people who overdo themselves with enhancements/plastic surgery/makeup etc even when it’s unnecessary. Prone to facial/body dysmorphia. What I find interesting however is that this placement usually naturally glows up at some point in their life as they get older, but the scars still remain; so they usually can continue being insecure for a long time and/or can seem to accept or believe any compliments given to them until they heal.

Chiron in the 2H💴

Similar to chiron in the 1H, this placement struggles with self worth/self esteem to a heightened degree, however instead of stemming from appearance it stems more so from financial instability/self worth in general. This placement could have grew up in a financially unstable environment and family where money wasn’t always present, and their needs were barely met; let alone their wants. These are the people who didn’t grow up with the latest video game, the newest car, the nicest house, expensive clothes/shoes. These were the people who had or barely had enough to get by growing up. Growing up they could have been surrounded by people who had more than them, or at least had more basic necessities than they did which in turn caused them to get judged or bullied. This is a placement that people are looked down upon for not having/affording nice things. This placement usually makes one an extremely hard worker growing up so they can have everything they didn’t have when young and not have to deal with it again. Without healing this wound however, these people could be prone to growing up superficial and judgmental just like their bullies in youth. They can start judging others who have less than them, and assessing others worth by what they have materially; because this is how they were treated growing up.

Chiron in the 3H🧠

These people could have struggled in school and may have been held back in grades. A slow learner, to say the least. They may have had a hard time learning and/or dropped out of high school or college. These people also may struggle with speech difficulties, could have grew up with a stutter or wasn’t able to speak/process things properly throughout their childhood and they could have been bullied for this. They could have been made to feel “stupid”, “slow” or “dumb” to their peers or family. They also may have simply grew up naive or very child like, maybe even sheltered and people could have traumatized them once they discovered the real world. This placement could also NOT get along with their siblings. People with this placement I know have been taunted, mistreated, or on the receiving end of jealousy by siblings both in childhood and adulthood.

Chiron in the 4H🏠 TW: ABUSE

These people could have had a very negative upbringing or family life. Home life was unstable, the father or mother could have not been very involved. I’ve noticed people with these placements could have been physically, emotionally or even sexually abused at home. Could have had a step parent that was abusive or one or both of the parents could have passed away. Some people with this placement could have been in foster care and/or traveled house to house to live with relatives/others who will take them in. They could of grew up with a lot of fighting in the house, I also noticed people with this placement could of had a parent that had an affair and this could of changed the whole trajectory of the home. If no abuse, then these people could have also been heavily mistreated or neglected in their family and almost treated like a stranger, and very outcasted within their family as well. These are the people who usually move out as soon as they can as they grow up and cut all contact immediately from family. Family could used the individual for personal gain. The family could have been extremely toxic, misogynistic, racist, overtly religious and/or diagnosed with mental illnesses such as NPD.

Chiron in the 5H🧑🏻‍🍼

These people struggle to be themselves and step outside the box. This placement is one where you’re afraid to accept any praise, as you feel you’re undeserving. These people usually feel like they’re not supposed to be happy or have nice things. They could have grew up with a negative, bitter family who influenced them to be overly humble to the point of self hatred. These were the people where the family could have threw things that they do for them in their face, even those it was basic necessities. “I put a roof over your head and food in your mouth!” this placement could of grew up feeling like they owe their parents something for bare minimum treatment. These people weren’t allowed to express themselves, to be themselves or to make their own decisions growing up. They were almost always practically controlled by their parents into being their personal robot. They feel guilty for enjoying themselves, loving themselves, having a good time or even just being happy. This is the ultimate placement that’s giving “If I can’t, why should you”. Not that it’s their fault, but I’ve never met a person with this placement who wasn’t the ultimate party pooper. Without healing, these people could grow up to become judgmental and bitter towards those who are living their best life. They could also struggle with fertility issues as well.

Chiron in the 6H🖊️

I feel like this placement is ridiculously hard on themselves no matter what they achieve in life. These are the people who I can honestly say are over givers, yet they feel like they’re still not giving enough. They could have struggled with keeping a set routine for themselves or even practicing basic hygiene growing up. But this is because this placement is a placement where nobody taught them anything that they know, they had to learn everything on their own. These people could be called lazy for wanting to take a simple break. Their lives usually revolve around work or doing their job. They can also be the type of people who is always trying to make everyone else happy except for themselves. I usually see people with this placement get taken advantage of because of their overly giving and forgiving nature. The reason these people are the way they are is because they grew up in a household that never gave them anything they have. They always felt like they had to prove themselves to others that they’re worthy of basic human decency. They do their best to help and do nice things for others because they were practically on their own soon as they came out of the womb. :(

Chiron in the 7H👩‍❤️‍👨

Oh boy, this placement is harsh. Those with Chiron in the 7H are people who have been deeply traumatized by love/relationships. These people usually end up with really bad partners who end up cheating, using, degrading and/or abusing them. I find this placement similar to Saturn in the 7H, however Chiron here is way more intense. These people feel like they keep going through the same cycle over and over in regards to love. They could have been traumatized by multiple relationships but the people I’ve met with this placement usually have that 1 relationship that changed their whole outlook on love in general. This is somebody who’s went through so many manipulative mind games in love that they start to lose hope. Once healed however, those with this placement end up becoming very mature and healthy individuals in regards to love and relationships. These people usually find “the one” once they start healing from the trauma of this placement. If unhealed, Relationships/marriage to people with this placement slowly start to lose its appeal once they get older because they put it in their mind that every man/woman is the same. Unfortunately, people who have been disappointed enough times with this placement start to turn so bitter that they become a misandrist/misogynist at some point in time. That’s why it’s important to heal if you have this placement, because it’s a harsh one that really starts to affect the mind internally.

Part 2 is on its way ☺️

#astro notes #astro observations #zodiac #astrology #chiron #scorpio #aries #taurus #gemini horoscope: star sign dates #cancer #leo astrology #virgo #libra

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lydiimae · 1 year ago

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Gentle

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, panic attack, fluff hehe, Anthony being the sweet husband ik he is

A.N: Hello my loves and hello dearest anon ^-^/! This one is a bit on the shorter side (2.5k words) but I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope I gave you what you wanted Nonnie. I imagine Anthony (I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE SEASON 3 MARRIED ANT AND KATE) as a protective and loving husband, who is also extremely gentle when he wants to be. Also, Infatuation pt two is in the works, for those that are eager (thank you btw <3 T-T) it should be out by next week at the latest. P.S I am planning on uploading at least twice a week hehe! Enjoy my dears! <3

Req found here <3

Marrying a Viscount was always going to be stressful, it came with responsibility. As well as a certain necessity to be perfect, at least that is the thought that nagged you. It was only a matter of time before the stress of being Anthony Bridgerton's wife caught up to you.

You had honeymooned in Edinburgh and Bath, all of the usual quiet places. He wished to make it just that, quiet and peaceful as both of you knew that would be one of the only times you would live in that blissful silence. Without worry of gossip, or rumors, or responsibilities.

Anthony also knew that you had a tendency to be anxious. Whether it be a result of how many people were present at a ball, or the rumors that tended to linger in your mind even after they slowly washed away from others. He wanted to show you the sights, and the gorgeous nature that was present in both of the cities that he had selected.

He also wished to show you the city of Bath. Take you to one of the large Roman baths, parade you around town, and wander the hills for hours on end. All lovely things that had taken your mind away from the lingering anxieties of being the new Viscountess.

It had worked marvelously, you had been the happiest he had seen you ever since you had met. You were completely in your element, especially when you were outside. It was a very loving, and freeing six months away.

Your leg jiggles as you fiddle with your gloves, looking out the window of the carriage as it rolls down the road to Aubery Hall. As soon as you had gotten back to England, your anxieties flooded back into your mind. You were already dreading what was going to happen. You and Anthony were already planning to attend a ball tomorrow, the first one of your marriage.

You hated it, you knew that people would talk, the women would glare and whisper, perhaps even confront you. You did not want to deal with it. You wished to be back in Bath, having a picnic with your husband, far away from the gossip.

You feel a hand on your knee and turn. "You have been antsy for four whole hours, my love. What is it?" He asks, moving his hand to yours and giving it a squeeze. You chew on your bottom lip and settle for resting your head on his shoulder. "I am only nervous for the ball tomorrow." You whisper.

"The ball, or the people?" He returns, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before tilting your chin up so he can look at you. You frown slightly and he gives a comforting grin. "They will talk, you know that, but none of it will matter. It is just that, talk." He murmurs before pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"But what if... you leave and then I am alone and one of them tries to-" You begin, but he cuts you off swiftly with another kiss. A longer one, but still as sweet as before. You sigh and rest your forehead against his. "You are so much more capable than you know, Y/N. You are the perfect Viscountess and the perfect Bridgerton. None of them shall ever be able to take either of those two things away from you." He whispers.

You smile as your cheeks heat up from his speech. "You are mine, mine to protect and mine to love. I take that duty very seriously." He finishes, cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch and smile. "I love you." You whisper back and he grins. "And I love you." He returns.

Tomorrow comes all too quick, and soon you are in the large closet in your master bedroom, your maids pulling on the strings of your corset to get it to your liking. Anthony, however, waits downstairs in his study already dressed up fully for the occasion.

You had promised to try and be quick, and he knows you tried to keep that promise. He also knew that you wanted to look perfect, so he did not mind being a bit late to the ball. He wished for you to be as comfortable as you could be. After about thirty minutes of waiting, he had sent his family ahead, promising to meet them there.

He would be lying if tonight was a relaxed night for him. He was a ball of nerves, but he knew how to hide them well. He was not nervous for him, no, he was nervous for you.

He knew that you were perfect, and all of the much older and married members of the ton did as well. It was the cruel debutantes he worried about. He knew that many of them would be bitter, even if they were not interested in him. It was many women's third or fourth social season, many women would take that out on any kind soul they could find, and you were the kindest.

He downs his glass of scotch and adjusts his cravat before standing up and going to the bottom of the staircase. He wanted to see you now, and he would not wait another second. Just as he is about to call out, you appear at the top of the steps, dressed in the infamous Bridgerton blues.

The gown is a gorgeous navy blue, and you have paired it with long, white, silk gloves. Your hair is pulled back in his favorite way, an elegant pin holding it up in an elaborate bun. To tie it all together, you are wearing the diamond necklace and earrings he bought you in Edinburgh. So simple, yet so incredibly beautiful. So you.

You smile at him as you walk down the stairs and he just about dies right there. "My God, you look ethereal." He whispers as he offers you his arm. You gladly take it and he grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leading you to the carriage.

The driver opens the door of the carriage once the two of you arrive at Lady Danbury's grand estate. You look out at the many other women and men filing out of their carriages and feel a familiar sense of dread, causing you to gnaw on the skin on the inside of your cheek.

"Darling?" He asks after a moment and you look up, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment once you realize he has probably been holding his hand out for you for some time. "Sorry." You mumble, before taking his hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet and help you out of the carriage.

The two of you walk hand in hand into the ballroom, which is bustling with activity. However, when the Viscount and his new bride enter, all of the chattering halts. The eery silence makes you wrap your arms around one of his, the sense of dread looming over your head only getting more intense.

He notices and moves down, kissing you softly on the lips. Part of it is for show, of course, but part of it is also because he knows that it will calm your nerves down to a point where you can manage them. He just knows, always.

He pulls away. "Come on, we are going to make this boring night a good one, hm?" He murmurs. You smile gently and nod, walking deeper into the ball. You hear the whispers, the cruel words from the other women, but choose to ignore them for now.

The two of you arrive at the space on the floor where his family stands. He lets go of your arm with a kiss on your cheek and enters a conversation with Colin. You walk to Eloise, of course, and begin to speak to her about your newest literary obsession.

Anthony eventually finds himself surrounded by his friends, leaving you and Eloise to your own devices. "It is quite an interesting story, I am surprised I only found just found it." You hum as she grins. She had recommended the book Frankenstein after you had said you wished to read more of the classics. "I am surprised as well, you always struck me as a horror type of woman." She teases, bumping your shoulder. You laugh lightly as she does.

"Well, now I know that I am only to come to you for book recommendations as my husband is quite lacking in that department." You return, your eyes filled with playful affection. "Well, I could have told you that, Y/N. My brother, it seems, only likes books in the historical genre." She sighs and looks at her glass of lemonade. "I shall be right back, I am going to get more lemonade." She says and is off before you can protest.

You frown and look around for someone else to talk to, to hide behind really, as you wait. Before you can you are approached by none other than Cressida Cowper, an absolute addict to gossip. "Y/N L/N, I am surprised to see you alone. Has he grown bored of you already?" She says, tilting her head.

You wince and sigh. You knew it was coming, Cressida always had a knack for finding you when you were alone and vulnerable. Often times her insults insist on picking on your nervous demeanor, or even your kindness. The use of your maiden name, however, stung uniquely. A sign that she thought your marriage insignificant, and who knows how many others did. You can feel your breathing pick up already.

"Cressida. It is lovely to see you." You say softly, turning to face her head on. She rolls her eyes at your blatant disregard for her question. "Indeed. It is always a pleasure seeing how... dull you look. I am surprised the Viscount has not already taken a mistress, I mean, he would do well to." She sneers. "I-" You begin but she cuts you off.

"You know I am right. You are dull, Y/N. You always have been. It was a miracle you got as much attention as you did when you debuted and an even bigger miracle that you got married to Anthony. He will grow bored of you, just as everyone has." She scoffs before sauntering off to her next target.

You feel the heat of tears in your eyes and the familiar feeling of tightening in your chest. You know Cressida can be cruel, but what if she got those words from another? What if she was right? Perhaps Anthony will grow bored, perhaps he already has. The thoughts have you going into a spiral, your breathing picking up until you realize you cannot breathe anymore.

Eloise, upon noticing that Cressida had made her way over to you, rushes back. "Oh God, that woman is nothing but a jealous old spinster, Y/N." She whispers, putting her glass down and reaching out before she realizes that you are already too far gone. She takes your hand and begins to walk in search of her brother, "Hold on, Y/N. He has to be near. It will be alright." She says softly, though it does nothing to stop the state of panic you are already in.

She finds him about two minutes later, and you are already in tears. She drags you to him and spins him around. "Cressida." She whispers before leaving the two of you together. He immediately wraps his arms around you and leads you out of the ballroom to one of the balconies, whispering sweet nothings into your ear the entire way.

"Alright. Look at me, my love." He murmurs once you are outside, grabbing your hands in his and pressing them to his chest so you can feel his heartbeat. "Ready?" He whispers when your tear-filled eyes meet his and you nod.

"Alright, in..." He breathes in and you do the same, your breathing stuttering as you try your best to follow. "And out..." He whispers, exhaling with you. The two of you have gone through this many times. He had helped you when you were courting, when you were engaged, and he will help you until the end of time.

After a few moments of him guiding you, your breathing calms and you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your face into the fabric of his cravat. "What did she say, darling?" He murmurs, rubbing your back gently.

You hesitate, and he senses your apprehension. "I will not get angry with you over words that such an insignificant woman spoke, I will not cause a scene. I promise. I only wish to know before I take you back home, hm?" He whispers, gently cupping your cheeks so he can look at you.

You wait for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodding. "She said that you would grow tired of me, just like everyone else. That you would take a mistress. She said I was dull." You whisper back, your grip on his shirt tightening.

His face darkens for a moment before he pulls you back into his embrace. "She knows nothing, my love. If you were dull, I would not want to spend every waking moment of my life with you. I would not have married you if you were not perfect for me in every single way." He whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"But I... I do this so often. I get so... so anxious. I am hardly a Viscounte-" You start but he cuts you off. "You are the perfect Viscountess. Y/N," He begins, pulling back a bit so he can look at you. "I do not say that lightly. I know that it has only been a short six months since we were wed, but I am more secure in my belief that you will be the perfect Viscountess. The perfect mother, the perfect head of my house. You are the perfect woman for me and for my family. Do not doubt that ever. Especially over some silly statement a foolish, sad woman made." He says, caressing your cheeks.

Your eyes burn at his speech, and your heart flutters. You lean in and press a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away. "I love you so very much, Anthony." You whisper.

He grins, and you swear you see the faintest of pinks spread over his cheeks. "And I love you, Viscountess Bridgerton." He whispers, pressing another kiss to your lips. "Let us go home. Lady Danbury will not miss our company I'm sure." He hums as he parts, making you nod in response.

That is just what the two of you do. After saying goodbye to his family, and to Lady Danbury, the two of you make your way to the carriage.

The rest of the night is spent in bed, speaking of the future, whispering love confessions in each other's ears, and loads of kisses. Who knew that a man who seems so brutish could be so gentle just for you?

#bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x female reader #fluff #cutie pie anthony #bridgerton

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caamboys · 1 year ago

Text

Future Spouse

i hope you guys like this reading <3 plsss give me feedback !! and more recommendations !! taking requests <333

pick a pile

PILE ONE

channeled song

" wish you were sober " - conan gray

" save me til the party is over, kiss me in the seat of your rover, real sweet but I wish you were sober "

THEIR PERSONALITY -

the emperor, six of swords, six of pentacles, justice, the well

This is a very dominant , overprotective person. They have a powerful aura and seem very strong minded and authoritative. People know not to fuck with this individual. This is the type to defend you against anybody, who would literally fight for your honor. I see a very masculine individual with a very no bullshit attitude. I think this person has experienced karma firsthand so they take it very seriously. I feel like your future spouse has abandoned bad habits and vices and transformed the way they live for the better. They've had a bit of a toxic past they've outgrown and integrated into their journey. I wouldn't be surprised if your significant other broke some hearts. I see them abandoning their old habits after facing karma and retribution. This is someone who believes in change and growth and will encourage it in you as well. I see them in a stern yet gentle energy to encourage you to live better, eat better or become healthier. They're veryyy charitable, and most people would not realize this because of how intimidating they are. They're actually very giving and compassionate to others. I think something about them is intimidating and strong & that presents them differently than who they truthfully are. I believe this is a new person, someone you haven't met yet.

HOW THEY TREAT YOU

channeled song - " flawless by Beyoncé"

king of pentacles, judgement

Remember how I said they'd encourage you to be better?? This person is also going to raise your self confidence majorly. I see them constantly praising you, hyping you up and complimenting you. They love to praise your physical appearance, and go out out of their way to raise your spirits around them. They want to see you elevate and will do anything to make sure you do. With the king of pentacles, they're gonna spend A LOT of money on you 😘 I'm getting gift-giving and words of affirmation as their love languages. This is a financially abundant person, & I see them wanting to provide for you financially to prove themselves to you, to show you they can take care of you.

PILE TWO

channeled song

" NASA " ariana grande

" you know I'ma Star, space, I'ma need space, "

PERSONALITY

the star, the well, nine of wands, the magician, the emperor, eight of swords, ace of wands, six of pentacles, three of pentacles

I think this is a very popular extroverted individual. They're very well-known. I see a lot of people admiring your future spouse and putting them on pedestals. Your person may be very gifted either physically or with a certain skill. With the Magician and the Star card I see them being magnetic, and constantly praised. Lots of people favor this person. I get the sense that they're in a natural position of power. Despite this they work very well with others and don't mind collaboration. They go out of their way to empower others.

HOW THEY TREAT YOU

"high priestess, four of swords, the empress"

Channeled song - "Good life by G-easy ft Kehlani"

" We put the good in the good life, we put the bad in the past now we alright "

I think this person knows how to read your body language, expression and moods very well. They're very intuitive and wise when it comes to the way you're feeling. They learn this specifically to cater to you. I see a feminine energy here being taken care of and nurtured. They're very emotionally intune with you. I think their love language is slowing down their fast-paced lives to simply rest and relax with you. Quality time is definitely one of their love languages along with praise. With the 'Empress' here I see them thinking of you highly, someone they would be blessed to be with. They think you both are powerful and will go together well. If you're shy, they will inspire you to step into a powerful and confident energy. I see them reminding you of how highly they think of you and how well you go together. They will encourage you to be more comfortable being in the spotlight. You will be a power couple here with the 'Emperor & Empress'. I see you two stepping on necks.

PILE THREE

channeled song - blow my brains out by tikkle me

" sometimes I wish I could lend you my voice, lend you my heart, lend you my choice"

" lucky is she, who lives unaware. unlucky me knows way too much "

THEIR PERSONALITY

seven of wands, seven of pentacles, the sun, five of swords, two of pentacles, the chariot, judgement temperance, seven of swords, knight of wands

I think something about your future spouse triggers people's insecurities. They have a certain way of living that shines light on darker traits and habits in others. I see people causing strife and problems with your spouse because of their light. I'm seeing this person has been betrayed by people close to them because of this. They can be defensive with new people and who they share their path with. Their defensiveness with others can be a little bit immature and overbearing but I think they know when to balance themselves out. They give strong Scorpio vibes tbh. I see them being a natural born protector and fighter. They have an inner warrior inside of them. I'm seeing your person has fought a lot to get where they are, and they don't plan on stopping anytime soon.

How they treat you?

" Industry Baby " Lil Nas X ft Jack Harlow

" you was never really rooting for me anyways"

"I don't clear up rumors, where's y'all's sense of humor? "

the hermit, three of pentacles, temperance, queen of pentacles, nine of swords, knight of pentacles, king of sworfs

I see them being very ambitious in showing their love to you. They may come across as very intense but truly they crave partnership. I think from the start they will pursue you strongly. I know I mentioned them being overly defensive earlier but when it comes to you this person has extremeeee patience. You're the only person to tame this person's inner warrior. They'll bow to no one except for you. I see them wanting to stay inside and watch movies, talk and overall withdrawal from everyone expect each other. People will wonder how you managed to 'tame the beast'. This person wants a divine collaboration to grow a new life together. I'm seeing something about living together and possibly combining finances. This person may want you to stop working completely and take on any financial burdens in the relationship. I'm seeing them sacrifice anything for this relationship, to make sure they're offering you the best they possibly can. They're very confident and assured of their approach in love, sometimes even arrogant.

PILE FOUR

Six of cups, Five of Pentacles, The devil, The star, The lovers, King of cups

channeled song - "if I could I would feel like nothing"

I'm so sick of being tired, I'm so tired of being sick."

THEIR PERSONALITY

I see your person has been through some sort of turmoil in regards to family issues. I think this has caused a detached and dissatisfied energy with things outside of them. I think they battle things like depression, and the word insomnia just came through. I think because your person is very physically attractive and magnetic, people overlook their pain a lot. They may struggle being vulnerable because of that but I feel like the people attracted to this pile could be the opposite. I see the universe divinely orchestrating this connection for their healing. With the lovers card being here, I think they deeply crave emotional availability and to be truly in harmony with their own emotions. This might be someone you met already, I get a strong sense of childhood nostalgia with this person.

HOW THEY TREAT YOU

the sun, seven of pentacles, the hanged man, the well, strength, queen of pentacles

I see them abandoning and sacrificing parts of themselves that do not serve your relationship. I see them working incredibly hard to make your relationship happy and healthy. I think this person suppresses their depression around you, I'm seeing them specifically shine a light on all their best traits, showing off the best parts of themselves hoping it will be enough to compensate for their shadow side. Aww pile four I see them working to be emotionally balanced in this relationship. Aside from that I think their love language is acts of service. I see them being very productive in your relationship, cooking, cleaning, doing simple yet thoughtful tasks for you. I think you motivate them to work harder because I see them wanting to fulfill you financially. To take care of all your wants and needs. I see them taking you down a new journey with them, a journey filled with harmony, divine union and emotional vulnerability. The way they treat you transforms as your relationship continues to grow and blossom.

Thanks for reading 🩷🩷 I love feedback !!! <33

- C

#fs pac #crush pac #pac #pac reading #crush tarot #love tarot reading #tarot love #tarot #pick a pile #pick a picture #crush pick a card #future spouse reading #future spouse tarot #pac fs

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tiredfox64 · 10 months ago

Note

hallo Hallo! I would like to make an request of female reader and Syzoth c:

So,I’ve seen and read many fanfic where the reader is clueless thus doesn’t understand the nature of the Zatteran. Which pisses me off. Let’s change that,Shall we? :3

An female who has bearded dragon pet thus *completely* understands the Zatteran’s nature. In what he eats,how he behaves,the shedding,mating season and such. Syzoth’s greatful for finding someone who gets him and they’re one perfect power couple >:D 💪🏻 I would like mostly be fluff. But if you wanna slip in some smut of mating season,Go ahead. ;3

Small reminder; you’re amazing and don’t forget to drink water to stay hydrated! <3

How to Care for a Zatteran

Yip notes: No YOU’RE AMAZING. You are speaking my language. I’d be happy to give my man what he needs.

Pairing: Syzoth x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: NSFW, biting, you get two for the price of one ayyyyyyy (what do you think I mean?)

Syzoth believed being in Earthrealm would be difficult for him. It is not a realm that has large lizards walking around. According to Johnny and Kenshi, if people did see a large lizard walking around there would be an uproar of conspiracy theories. The government might hunt him down thinking he was an alien that escaped Area 51.

No wonder Syzoth wasn’t too keen on getting to know other humans…except for you. You are like the sun to him. You are needed in his life. If you are not with him then what is left in his life? You get him on so many levels.

You have a great understanding of reptile behavior. You grew up with a love for all kinds of reptiles from colorful geckos to strong snakes and even tortoises that had to wear balloons to allow you to keep an eye on them. You sure know your stuff. You knew what was best for them when it came to environment and diet. That means you knew what was best for Syzoth.

If Johnny didn’t ask you to bring him crickets for Syzoth when he invited him to his mansion you wouldn’t have met your reptilian boyfriend. Because Syzoth couldn’t stand human food the only other option that Johnny could think of was bugs. He knew you had an abundance of bugs to feed your pet bearded dragon, Blondi. And boy was Syzoth happy to see you come towards him with a handful of dead crickets. His tail came out and curled up as his split tongue scooped up the crickets. You were amazed by his tail, not a hint of fear in your voice as you squealed about how cool it was. He was so excited by your enthusiasm that he presented his true form. The rest was history.

You adored him in both forms. He was a handsome human and a cute-faced giant lizard. He was glad to find someone who didn’t see him as a monster or even a freak for who he truly was. Though your bearded dragon was not a big fan of him. The first time Syzoth walked into your home, Blondi was tapping on the glass trying to pick a fight with him. He was bobbing his head like a rockstar, trying to tell your boyfriend that this was his territory. He didn’t back down when Syzoth went into his natural form. Your little guy was ready to put up a fight for you. Or he was ready to fight for his food. He can sense Syzoth is just as hungry as he is.

You did have delicious bugs in your home at all times. Crickets, mealworms, grasshoppers, hornworms, and more. You made him feel better about eating bugs in front of you once you told him that humans also eat bugs. He didn’t believe you at first since everyone he has come across has given him weird looks but you reassured him that it was true. Many cultures eat bugs and there are even some candies that have bugs inside of them. You brought out a bag of chapulines that were coated in lemon juice, chili, and garlic. He watched as you took some from the bag and popped them into your mouth. He got curious and wanted to try some for himself. It was fine for him to try since he isn’t a regular bearded dragon and he has a stomach full of corrosive acid. The chili would not end his existence.

He loved the chapulines so much that you started putting them in the salads you would make him. Syzoth wasn’t used to eating greens that often but seeing how Blondi ate it up he thought it would be good for him. After taking his first bite of that fresh mixture of cabbage, kale, zucchini, and bell peppers he was eating it up quickly. He startled Blondi who was trying to eat his mixture of bugs and vegetables on the same table. Geez and you thought Blondi was a messy eater. Syzoth was messier but at least he licked up his mess.

“Are you sure you don’t want to use a fork?” You asked as you scooted a fork closer to him.

His head popped up from the bowl with his tongue still wrapped around a bunch of cabbage and kale. His eyes looked between the fork and the bowl. His hand slowly crept towards the fork and swiped it off the table before diving his head back into the bowl. The loud sound of crunching continued until he was finished.

The love went beyond a good diet. You made shedding season easier on him.

Shedding in his natural form is never pleasant. It’s unpleasant for every reptile. So you did your best to ease his discomfort and complete the process faster. You went out and bought a kiddie pool that was just big enough to fit his giant lizard self. You bought a bunch of bottles of shedding aid to hydrate his skin and get the old skin off. A nice spray of mist from your garden hose and he was in heaven. The old skin didn’t feel so tight on him anymore. Syzoth was grateful for everything you did for him. You must have spent a lot on the shedding aid to ensure it would work on him.

It was all worth it once you saw how he relaxed. His eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly opened, showing off his sharp teeth. He was able to rid himself of old skin before deciding to eat it. What? He doesn’t want to leave a mess for you to clean up.

The only issue Syzoth has is with Blondi. He tried being nice and showing that he meant no harm. He waved so many times yet Blondi kept bobbing his head and tapping against his glass enclosure. He did not like sharing you with Syzoth. It would result in Blondi running towards Syzoth to give him a good fight. You would have to swoop him up and go into another room so you could peacefully handle your little guy.

Once you were done with one lizard you had to go to the other. Syzoth needed handling too even though he was larger than you. He liked resting his body against yours, using your chest as a pillow for him. Sometimes he would be in his human form and others he would be in his natural form. You preferred the human form just because it didn’t feel like he was crushing you. You took it like a champ in the end. You would run your hand from his neck and down his back. He wouldn’t let you go even when you begged him to.

Now that’s all fun and stuff, having basically another pet lizard who is also a person who you could talk to. Syzoth is loyal to you and adores you. The fact that you understood what he needed as a Zatteran brought him closer to you. You’re the only one who understands him. You understood him better than his own people did.

Tell me, lizard girl, what do you think happens when a man gets really invested in a woman? That’s right! He wants to mate!

You saw this coming from a mile away you can’t lie. It didn’t matter if his habits were more human or lizard he was still getting riled up by you. What man wouldn’t want a kind and caring woman who feeds him well and shows him unconditional love? It was only natural that Syzoth wanted to show you his love. He wanted to give you his children and protect you till his very last breath. But he understands that humans don’t work the same way. Your “mating rituals” are more complex while his could be seen as too animalistic even for you.

Is that gonna stop his natural instincts from kicking in? Fuck no. Nature is an unstoppable force and when it’s go time, it’s freaking go time.

You noticed the change in Syzoth. He was putting in a lot of effort to let you know he was attracted to you even though you knew that beforehand. The pheromones he produced in his natural form would not work on you so you had to go off of visual clues. While in his human form, he bobbed his head a lot and stomped the ground, causing things to shake. It caught your attention and you would stare at him while wondering if that was necessary. His green eyes would stare at you, waiting to see if you would run away or move into a certain position.

“It’s mating season already? Gosh, I should check on Blondi.” You teased Syzoth, acting like you wouldn’t help him before you got up from the couch.

Because you walked away, he took that as you playing hard to get. He gave chase. You were barely down the hallway before you felt his arm wrap around your waist. He put all his weight against your body, causing you to go down. He wasn’t forcing you down on the ground but he was aware that he was using his size to his advantage. You didn’t think he could hold this primal aggression inside of him.

Your chest was pressed against the floor as you felt him grind against you. He whined before saying,

“Now…now…I want you now.”

Syzoth sounded so desperate you wondered if it’s been a long time since he last mated with a woman. That might be why he was more aggressive than you imagined.

“Alright…we can do it now. Do you want to go-“

You were going to ask if he wanted to move this to your bedroom but he was already tearing off your clothes. He didn’t need all of them off he just needed yours and his pants off. He was back to pressing his body against you and you could feel his cock…cocks? Well, guess that answers that question you’ve had in the back of your mind.

One of his cocks pressed against your wet folds while the other rubbed against your clit. Your anatomies aren’t correct but he will make this work. He began pushing his cock inside of you, stretching you out with its thick size. You let out a gasp as your nails clawed at the hardwood floors. Syzoth saw your reaction and thought you might pull away. He decided to pull your shirt to the side and bite down on your shoulder to prevent you from running away. You let out a pained moan as you felt his teeth sink into your flesh. It wasn’t enough to break your skin but it would keep you in place.

His rhythm was constant yet primal. He never took a moment to cool down or take a breather. He kept going in and out as his other cock rubbed your clit. Precum dripped from the tip which landed on the floor. His saliva dripped down your shoulder as his hot breath heated your skin. He let out grunts and groans as he continued fucking you. You were so glad you didn’t have neighbors nearby because you could not handle the noise you were producing.

You knew Syzoth was no regular man but he still managed to blow your mind…and your back out. You didn’t realize that you were drooling and continuously scratching the floor. Your brain was mush from how good Syzoth was making you feel. You could never receive this love from any ordinary man. The only one who could make you a drooling mess and get your full permission to breed you is Syzoth.

His breath grew hotter and quicker. His thrusts grew sloppier. You knew he was close and so were you. You decided to give him a helping hand, literally, and used one of your hands to stroke his other cock. You felt him twitch and groan more before he started going rougher. He was fucking into you while also fucking your hand. He made you cum with him when his last thrust hit your g-spot and you both came. This hot wave ripped through you as your shoulder burned with pain. Syzoth tightened his hold on your waist to keep you in place as he came inside of you. It sure was a lot of cum based on the fact that your hand was covered in it. It still managed to make a mess of the floor.

You both were panting and sweating like you just finished a fight. Syzoth finally let go of your shoulder and licked the teeth marks to soothe your pain.

“You just couldn’t wait, could you?” You teased him.

“You knew what would happen once you walked away. You know me so well, I would think you would be smart enough to not play hard to get.” He teased back.

“I was messing with you, but it seems like that charade didn't last long.”

You both laughed before you tried to get up. Syzoth didn’t allow that. He kept all his weight on you while his arms were still wrapped around your waist. He didn’t pull out.

“Uh…I thought you were supposed to let me go right after we finished.”

“My love, I am more than just an animal. I still need attention. We will stay in this position for a long time.” He snuggled up to you with a satisfied smile on his face.

“Could we at least move this cuddle session to my bedroom?”

“No! Blondi shouldn’t know about this.”

Syzoth, what the fuck is the little lizard gonna do? The lizard doesn’t even understand the concept of dating.

Yap notes: I'm losing motivation again. I'm puffin.

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year ago

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How about something about being a very soft and feminine person, strong independent in their own way, with Mizu. I like to think she is joins the party and acts as the “woman” for the group, and she just genuinely is a good person. I just want to see Mizu with someone who just cares about them.

This was way too long and whatever else you wanna call it.

‘You’ll die.’ Mizu puts bluntly.

‘I don’t care. I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.’ You shrugged, mind made up as you already have packed your essentials for the departure overnight.

Mizu closed their eyes, sighing deeply through the nose before opening their eyes once more to look directly at you with their usual stare. ‘I won’t be held responsible if you were killed unawares.’ They said but the fire of excitement and adventure within your eyes hasn’t faltered once.

Mizu can only wonder how they attract people of similar natures in one way or the other to trail after them like a little horde of stubborn ducklings; A question they’ll couldn’t quite find the answer for.

You have been prone to leave Mizu perplexed since your first met after healing them of their wounds after a particularly heinous fight. Your soft touches and kind encouraging words brought about uncertain feelings within Mizu. Making them feel as though they have somehow ventured off into unfamiliar territory, immediately sending them to act out in self defensive tactics.

Constantly looking over their shoulder, hand clutching at the hilt of their sword, ears and eyes honing in on every snaps of branches and the rustling of bushes, waiting for a potential ambushes or ransacking attempts. Anything that would put their life in any and all levels of risk.

Mizu found themself in a battlefield they weren’t well versed in whenever your face shone with a bright smile upon seeing them in the mornings, presenting them with the clothes they’ve entrusted to you to sew up the worn and torn fabric, seeing as how only you were the one with the tools and the experience for the job. Or how you would often help fix up breakfast for everyone but always end up making yours last, when Mizu asked about this, you just shrugged and told them that you’d rather survive off of scraps if it meant others having full, warm and satisfied bellies.

Mizu only scoffs at this, not thinking too much into your words, but their sharp eyes would immeditly notice the difference in the amount of food you gave them before looking at your own proportions; which was enough to satiate your hunger for the time being but it was obvious that you gave larger portions of food to them. Their eyes would soften somewhat at the gesture, knowing that your words were more than just words, only to harden afterwards when catching you given them frequent side glances.

You would also patch up reopened words that were in harder to reach for Mizu or Tiagen to get to by themselves , much to Mizu’s dismay at the thought of being in such a vulnerable and open position for sabotage. However under your watchful eye, Mizu had learnt over a long period of time to put their trust into you and your seemingly never ending well of talents.

‘Stop doing stuff that’ll only reopen your wounds,’ you scolded, finishing sealing up the last of Mizu’s wounds with a final stitch. ‘I’m staring to run out of thread and alcohol to disinfect the needle with the rate you and Taigen are going at!’ You added, putting your hands on your hips like a disappointed parent.

‘If it displeases you so much to waste resources, then why bother healing me in the first place.’ Mizu responded straightforwardly as they slowly refitted their clothing on their body whilst trying not to reopen any wounds as to not waste the effort you put into putting them back together again. You huffed, knowing that Mizu was still a little on edge with you and the kindness you went out of your way to give them.

You didn’t blame them for being the way they were and only accepted this as their way of acting the only way they knew how and went to sit down next to them, remembering to keep some distance for keep Mizu from unwarranted contact. ‘It’s not the resources that I’m worried about. It’s you.’ You admitted, seeing Mizu look at you from the corner of your eye, looking as though they weren’t expecting that type of response to come from your mouth. That reaction only hurt your heart knowing that a concerning about of people lacked empathy towards their fellow man. It genuinely disgusted you at how easy it was for them to show you their back the moment you’ve outgrown your usage.

‘Me? Why?’ Mizu asked.

You chuckled humourlessly. ‘Is it a sin for me to be concerned about you? To worry about you whenever you come back from where ever you wander off to, suddenly unable to stand on your own two feet without collapsing from immense blood loss?’ Mizu reminded silent and so you took that as a sign to continue. ‘Am I expected to just stand there and not do anything? I’m sorry but I’d rather wast every resource I own on you because if it meant bettering your chances of survival, even if by a margin, then I’d do anything to make that possibility into a guarantee.’ You finished with a smile before getting up to your feet and leaving the room to give Mizu privacy and time to process your words.

Meanwhile Mizu was back to feeling those foreign emotions. They weren’t use to someone caring for them to the extent that you did, not without wanting something in exchange but Mizu noticed that you haven’t even once asked for anything in return for making them breakfast, sewing up their clothes, gifting them sharping stones for their sword nor patching up their wounds. All you did was take care of them and their every needs, so much so that they felt a weird warm within their chest at the memory of your bright smile that you gave them after everything.

You were sweet and soft but strong, firm in your beliefs and posses a strong independence. A true diamond in the rough in regard to everything they’ve bore witness to since childhood. Your attitude towards them was an extreme contrast to everyone else’s, it often caught Mizu off guard in the odd occasion but it wasn’t until now did Mizu come to realised how much their body ached to be tended and cared for by someone like you. They’ve persevered through the hardships they’re forced to call life and bore the scars of said hardships in a multitude of places upon their body, both new and old.

Mizu was use to being alone but now that you entered their life, they were starting to think that they don’t wanna be alone anymore but was a tad hesitant to make the first move on their own accord. If Mizu was grateful for one thing in life, it was the fact that you were in it and by their side for the indefinite future.

#blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #mizu x you #mizu imagines #mizu imagine #blue eye samurai imagine #blue eye samurai imagines #Netflix

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chillinglikeashilling · 5 months ago

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I'm only on episode 8 of Jentry Chau vs The Underworld but I've been thinking about the parallels and contrasts between Jentry, Michael and Kit.

This would be too long if I tried to do all three so this is just my thoughts on Jentry and Kit

Spoilers below for episodes 1-8

It's so interesting to me because at first the show seems to tell us that Jentry and Kit parallel each other - both have been keeping a secret for most of their lives, both of them hurt people/caused damage because of their 'nature' (Jentry's powers are not 'naturally' hers but she's had them so long it doesn't really matter), both of them just want to be understood as more than a demon.

But as soon as we learn that Kit is a face painting demon those parallels start to break down.

Kit has intentionally killed people before, people who he lied to. He's been lying to Jentry from the moment they met purely for his own benefit and, importantly, to Jentry's detriment. He showed up under a guise that would allow him to get close to Jentry, with the explicit plan of falsely earning her trust and killing her.

Part of the reason Jentry liked Kit to begin with is that he didn't have all these preconceptions about 'the demon girl'. It's a similar reason she's able to get close to Stella quickly.

Kit was just a completely normal boy who was new in town, and who just happened to like all the same stuff she does. He had no connection to the fire, so she didn't feel like she was always actively lying to him. She felt normal around him.

Except then she finds out that he does know, in fact he's known about her powers since before she met him. Everything he has initially presented to her about himself is a lie, one intentionally created to appeal to her.

I think this is part of the reason, apart from the obvious, that Jentry is so uncomfortable when he's making the Jentry skin. She becomes intimately aware of how much work went into the artifice of 'human Kit'.

I also think this is why despite his generally good intentions, Kit is misguided in his attempts to court Jentry.

Kit wants to go back to the place where they were both open to a romantic relationship but Jentry can't get back to that place because it wasn't real for her.

He's not a normal boy, he probably doesn't like as many of the same things as she thought he did (if he likes any of it), and also he's a hundred year old demon who's killed hundreds of people.

I don't think Kit is lying when he says that his feelings for Jentry were real, but of course they were. He had the benefit of knowing the truth the entire time, he can trust what Jentry has presented to him because it lines up with what he knows. Jentry does not have any of that reassurance when it comes to him.

Everything Jentry learns about him now is like getting to know an entirely new person. Of course she doesn't like him the same way as before.

It is a tragedy for Kit. Having to lie to get close to people is heartbreaking not least because those people cannot actually like or be close to the real you, that version of you is a stranger to them. A stranger who has been lying to their face.

It's not his fault he's a skin painter, but the truth of the matter is by that sheer fact he was never what Jentry was looking for in the first place.

#kit jcvtu #jentry chau vs the underworld #jentry chau spoilers #jcvtu spoilers #Jentry chau

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pinkiemachine · 1 year ago

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I’ve only done some light reading on Selina, but even so, details on her past seem few and far between. Maybe there’s a reason, maybe I just haven’t looked hard enough, whatever. Someone can enlighten me in the comments. What I do know, however, is that she’s eluded to have experienced some form of abuse as a child. Now, this research came on the heels of brushing up on the rest of Batman’s rogues’ gallery and I gotta say, abuse as a backstory comes up a lot. And I’m just sitting here, like, “There are so many unique people in this world with unique traumas and hurts that this feels almost cookie cutter.” Am I wrong? I just wanna be more specific and explore problems more intimately. So… Selina Kyle. What to write for her backstory? I thought a lot about who she is as a character present day—her playful aloofness, her decision to become a cat burglar, breaking rules as if they don’t exist, always on the run, never settling down with anyone long term, stealing nice things for herself—it led me to this backstory: When Selina was a child, she was horribly neglected. Her father was almost never around and her mother was depressed, anxious, under the influence of alcohol quite often, and wished she never had a daughter. Selina found that it was always easier to live as though she were invisible. If she never got caught making a mess or being noisy or causing problems, her mother would never get mad at her, or even a acknowledge her, and neither would her father if he ever showed his face. She never received birthday gifts—or if she did, they were pitiful—and all of her attempts of reaching out via gifts to her mother and father were rejected. She was never loved and grew to believe that the only way she would ever feel cared for is if she just took care of herself and only herself. She was good at being invisible, and so she became good at stealing. She treated herself to nice things whenever she felt like it, and she rarely ever got caught. She never made close friends. She never really fell in love. She built up walls so high that no one could ever break them down… until she met Bruce. Suddenly, here was a guy who could consistently catch her red-handed. Who told her she needed to stop robbing people. Who believed she could be better. Who saw her. And even though she kept double-crossing him, escaping his grasp, and escaping justice, she found that it was a little bit harder to return to crime every time. She had always found him attractive… but the longer they chased each other around Gotham, and the longer he showed that he wasn’t going to ignore her or give up on her, the more that attraction turned into a deep feeling that Selina had never felt before. True love. She was scared of it. She didn’t know what to do with it. It was completely the opposite of everything she had ever known, and she secretly didn’t think she deserved it. After all, she was a criminal. She was a “bad guy.” Someone who stole from others for pleasure and profit. And yet Bruce believed she was a good person deep down. He believed she had the capacity for change. And in time, he would find himself falling in love with her too. By the end of their story, naturally, those walls had come crumbling down and they had each learned how to love again, something they both thought would never happen to them. 💜

#fan art #art #dc #dc comics #batman #Bruce wayne #Selina Kyle #Catwoman #batxcat

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mochacoda · 3 months ago

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[teaser] night d(r)ive | yjh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x GN!Reader

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers | College AU

Word Count: 5K (full)

Release Date: February 9 -> RELEASED HERE

Masterlist

But despite his chaotic personality, you also know that he’s incredibly smart, having sat next to him in countless college lectures and trivia events.