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kumkaniudaku · 10 months ago

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Stay A While (2)

Summary: Terry and Treece are feeling the sparks again.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,659

Part: 2 of ??

Warnings: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.

Grocery shopping was Patrice's private pastime. She was the queen of her universe when she walked through aisles every Saturday morning. Every flash bargain and value-sized item bent to her will for a chance at making it to her humble abode and fulfilling its one purpose in life. Employees greeted her like royalty. Customers started conversations like old friends, always giving her the scoop on any sale they'd overheard in their neighborhood Facebook groups. She was happy. She was zen. She was in her element.

"Do you need this?"

She was a woman dragging around a large man intent on breaking any modicum of concentration she had left.

Patrice stopped and looked over her shoulder at Terry, who held a bag of cotton candy grapes up in the air for her inspection. "No, TJ. Put it down."

"Why? You like grapes."

"Because we're getting grapes from the farmer's market. Now, put it back."

Her rebuke was sweet but stern. Having him as a way too familiar roommate was becoming easier as the days passed. But she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss the freedom to go for a walk, watch a movie on the couch, or even enjoy an intimate moment alone in her own house without a man looming somewhere in the very near background.

He didn't allow her to travel alone, and she never had the energy to protest.

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm a kid," he grumbled as he put the grapes back in their place.

"Then stop acting like one. I have a list. I know what I need."

"I know what I need." He exaggerated his mimicry for maximum effect.

"You see how that was childish?"

"Whatever."

Patrice ignored him in favor of browsing packages of beef for the best deal. If she didn't respond, maybe he would get the hint. And, for a few moments, he did. Terry took a break in conversation to scan the immediate area quietly. He noted each patron and their most important details before checking the exit and entry points at the front of the store. They weren't secure enough, but he could manage if the situation required evacuation.

A lack of action soon turned his attention back to Patrice, who still hadn't decided. He gave her a slow once over and smiled at how much focus she put into such a simple choice. Her brow remained furrowed in intense thought, transforming her into the ninth-grade Patrice he met during a chance encounter in the library. Truthfully, he didn't have much of an opinion either way. He just wanted to talk to her every second of the day, even if it meant being annoying.

"Get that one."

His sudden interruption startled Patrice out of her zone, adding a final straw to an already exhausted camel's back. Terry grinned in triumph as she closed her eyes for a calming breath.

"Terry," she spoke, slow and measured to keep the peace. "Take the other half of this list and get out of my face. Don't come back until you find everything. I'll meet you at the register."

She didn't give him much time to protest before she shoved a carefully torn half of paper into his chest and sent him on his way. He gave her a sarcastic salute, which she waved off without a second look. She needed a moment alone and didn't care if he came back with Fruity O's instead of Fruit Loops if that meant he would be out of her hair for more than 10 minutes.

Terry found himself slowly meandering around the grocery store with a tiny basket in tow, exhausted by all the options on each aisle. If Patrice hadn't been so meticulous with her lists, he would've given up on the mission and gone back to home base with his tail tucked between his legs.

After sourcing the perfect pint of Oreo ice cream as an apology for his behavior, Terry found himself drawn to the sound of laughter on the next aisle. Sure enough, Patrice was parked by the frozen vegetables and engaged with a man dressed in the store's colors with his eyes directed far too low to be looking at Patrice's face.

Terry quickly reached her location, stopping behind Patrice to show her guest the full extent of his scowl.

Patrice noticed how his once loose body language had gone stiff and sighed. She didn't need to investigate the problem. Only her human pitbull could make a man cower in fear like that.

"Derrick, this is Terry. Terry, this is Derrick. He usually helps me get stuff to my car."

"Ah, man. It's a good thing I'm here, right? We don't need you taking too many breaks from stocking. Mornin' rush can get crazy."

"Terry," Patrice admonished with a harsh whisper and an elbow to his stomach.

Terry remained steadfast, keeping his eyes on Derrick while taking one step closer. A taunting smile tugged on the right side of his mouth. He waited on any sign of fight from his unspoken adversary.

Derrick stood in palpable discomfort, sizing up the outcomes if he decided to test his luck. Each mental scenario led him back to some instance of physical harm on his last shift of the week. He had plans for the weekend, none involving a trip to the emergency room.

Patrice stood between a rock and a hardheaded man, praying that the Lord would end her suffering.

"That's what I was about to say," Derrick answered before shifting his attention back to Patrice. "I think I oughta get going. See you around, Ms. Ellis?"

"Same time next week."

He nodded in half-hearted agreement and hurried out of dodge, with Terry keeping a watchful eye until he was safely around the corner.

Patrice groaned with one hand, rubbing tight circles at her temple. "What in the hell was that about?"

"He wouldn't even look you in the eye. If he can't look you in the eye when he's speaking, he can't protect you, and he doesn't respect you."

"I'm not looking for his protection. I need this water loaded into my trunk every week when you aren't here!"

"I'll never not be here. Problem solved."

His declaration was so sure, so matter of fact, that it left Patrice no room for retort. So she resorted to schoolyard antics.

It was her turn to mock him with an exaggerated, deep voice. "Problem solved. Push the damn cart since you got so much energy."

He obliged without protest and a proud, self-satisfied grin that Patrice couldn't see while she led the way to the register. An unexpected system error had halted all transactions, leaving them log jammed in a long line of restless customers.

Together, they stood sharing light banter and running through weekend tasks, resembling any other couple making a store run to strangers observing them from the outside looking in. Former acquaintances, however, had no problem drawing attention to the pair from three spots back in line.

"I know that ain't who I think it is." Both Patrice's and Terry's eyes darted up to find the source of the loud outburst, only to whisper 'fuck’ in tandem when they spotted Katrina Spivey waving her arms to grab their attention. "Hey, Terry Richmond!"

Terry pretended to ignore being singled out by turning his back, earning a stifled laugh from Patrice. Katrina, not one to be deterred, used the moment to push past patrons in line until she reached her destination with a host of angry faces in her wake.

"Well, if it ain't Mr. and Miss Homecoming in the flesh. You two finally stopped kidding around and got married?"

"No," Terry answered without much explanation, his back still turned. Patrice reluctantly made up his slack.

"What Terry meant to say was that we're not married. We're not together at all, actually. But he's here to visit me for a while."

"What a blessing it is to have friends you can lean on when you need a helping hand."

"Amen."

An awkward tension settled into the conversation's lull, compounded by Terry's outright refusal to engage. Patrice was in deep water without a paddle and a co-captain who had already jumped ship.

Katrina wouldn't let the conversation end and take her newfound place in line. She continued to pry.

"Both of y'all look good! How long has it been since we last saw each other, huh? Gotta be since Terry's graduation send-off."

Patrice feigned interest with a hollow smile. "Yeah, I think that was it. A looong time ago. All grown up now."

"And thank God for it! I remember how sad you looked all night because ol' Terry was moving away. Like a little crying puppy!"

Katrina's laughter didn't quite reach Terry or Patrice, who bristled at mentioning one of the more contentious nights in their friendship.

"Everybody's been a little young and dumb, right? Like when you and BJ got caught underneath the bleachers during state championships."

Checkmate. A little reminder of her indiscretions had turned Katrina's condescending smile into a mean mug that could burn through anyone not equally as stubborn.

Terry showed his approval with a light nudge against Patrice's arm. That was his girl. Sweet as pie but a tongue coated in venom when backed against the wall. He'd been on the receiving end on one too many occasions. It felt good to be on the winning side this time.

Three seconds of a Western standoff had culminated in a gift sent via store intercom.

"Apologies for the stoppage, folks. Our registers are back up and running. Thanks for your patience."

Terry moved the cart to place items on the conveyor belt while Patrice waited for the conversation to resume.

Recovering from the sharp end of a verbal lashing, Katrina cleared her throat and grabbed hold of her cart in preparation to skip lines.

"Well, I don't wanna hold y'all too much longer. If y'all don't think you're too good to mingle with us Francis High Hornets anymore, Corey's throwing a little Juneteenth gathering at his daddy's pool hall. This is my personal invite for the both of you."

"We were already invited. Maybe we'll make an appearance."

"That'd be grand."

"I bet it would."

Nice nasty smiles passed between the two foes until Katrina was off to harass some other unsuspecting patron.

Patrice tried to let go of her frustration with an angry huff before turning to catch up with Terry, who was casually moving groceries from the bagging station to the shopping basket. He waited a moment before acknowledging the obvious.

"You over it now, or do I need to iron a shirt for tonight?"

"I'm over it," Patrice answered plainly. She calmly handed over payment for the day's groceries and smiled ever so sweetly to bid the cashier farewell. To an outsider, she'd returned to her zen state without much effort. Terry was no outsider and kept a cautious eye on her as they loaded bags into the trunk and got settled in the front seat of her SUV.

"You sure you're good," he asked as he backed out of their parking space.

"I'm sure, TJ," she answered with almost too much enthusiasm. Terry started a mental countdown for the other shoe to drop. "I'll iron the shirt. You need to shave."

--------

The final verdict? A plain white T-shirt.

An hour of searching, choosing, rejecting, and choosing again led them to a plain, crisp white tee. Patrice said it went better with her yellow wrap dress, which she chose because her girlfriends were all in dresses, and she wanted to match the occasion. It all sounded like made-up bullshit to Terry. Still, he accepted being treated like a Ken Doll because it meant that his Barbie would agree to a two-hour hard stop at the festivities.

He'd already started his stopwatch when they pulled up on a busy street in front of an even busier hole in the wall.

The smell of fresh grease greeted them upon crossing the threshold from outside into Mister C's Bar and Lounge. Fried fish, French fries, and wings in any flavor you could ask for sat in the service window, waiting for their delivery to any one of the patrons packed from wall to cinderblock wall. Terry inhaled deeply and let his scowl drop for one second to fantasize about a bite of Corey Sr.'s signature catfish and fries basket.

Next came the familiar mix of sweat and weed near the dancefloor as bodies intertwined to some GloRilla song neither of them recognized. Thick traffic in the center of the room paused Patrice on her path to the pool tables, locking her between Terry and a crowd that wouldn't budge.

"Excuse me!" she shouted over a swell of crowd reaction to a new song. "I need to get by!"

No response. Not even a look back as she used a hand to create space between her and a group of men debating nonsense. Before she could try again, Terry used one hand to push her forward and his voice to clear the way.

"Yo, step out of the way. We need to get through." Direct and to the point. He left no room for misinterpretation, and his baritone's boom left no confusion about who was calling the shots. Patrice watched with her lips slightly parted in awe.

The first reaction to his demand was the embers of confrontation. Each member of the group sized Terry up, noticing his heavy scowl and size in comparison to their own. Then, they realized that this wasn't a winning game.

The flashiest of the group nodded, though disdain at the mere suggestion that he was in the way kept his mouth in a tight frown. "Yeah, you good, OG. My fault."

Another light push propelled Patrice forward as Terry maintained with each man until they had passed.

Once they were out of the mix and nearing their destination, he advised, "Stay close." Patrice nodded her compliance, shocking Terry into a slight smile in appreciation for her obedience.

Sparks of electricity shot between them but had no time to turn into a total current before Corey called out to them.

"Treece! Terry! We over here!"

Surrounded by familiar faces from Francis Edward's Class of 2010, Corey welcomed them with open arms and his ever-present 100-watt smile. At a slight 5'6", 150 on his best day, he'd always been larger than his frame would suggest. Loud and flamboyant had always been the name of his game, earning him anything he set his sights on.

It didn't take long for the trio and Corey's wife, June, to fall into familiar habits and friendly jabs at one another as they took their seats in a makeshift VIP section by the pool tables. The Three-Headed Monster was their moniker in high school, and they moved like a military force. Terry was the enforcer, while Corey and Patrice served as judge and prosecutor. If you had an issue with one, you had an issue with all three.

"Your security is lax. Who trained them?" Terry pointed out during a dead spot in conversation.

Corey followed his eyeline to the two young men standing at the door and back. "My boy at the sheriff's office. What you see?"

"They look soft. It wouldn't take much to overpower them and get in for some drama. You only have one exit. Somebody breeches this place, and you're on the hook for a tragedy. Plus, the one on the left is scared. He'll be the first to leave if things get hot. Watch him."

"Impressive," June remarked, smiling at Patrice, who subtly playfully waved her off.

"Hm." Corey took a long pull from his cigar, taking in the information before responding." You here for a minute, T? I got some connections over at Liberty if you looking to get back in the swing of things."

"Contract?"

"Whatever you need, man. You know I'm good for it."

Terry looked over at Patrice for some indication that she believed in Corey, and she returned with a subtle nod and encouraging smile. June looked between them and then at her husband before clearing her throat.

"It looks like Kel and his boy are back on the pool table. You know he still owes you a game from when he cheated last week."

"Hell yeah," Corey agreed as he turned in his seat to get a look at his enemy. "Aye, T, you trynna make $100 real quick?"

"It's either that or you gotta come dance with me," Patrice challenged. "This rum and pineapple got me feeling a little loose."

She wasn't lying. A taste of alcohol in her system was starting to make her want to explore parts of the Patrice she thought she left at North Carolina A&T. Every heart-rattling thump of Megan Thee Stallion's latest and greatest had her thinking about reminding everyone in the room that she could move with the best of them.

Her little grind in her seat made Terry show teeth in a small grin before he stood to his full height and looked down at her. His eyes were hooded and dreamy from some combination of exhaustion and a contact high, reintroducing that spark from before.

"Don't go too far. I'll be back with your money in a little bit."

Patrice's tongue felt too heavy to respond coherently past a punch-drunk nod. June watched her watch him make his way down the platform and into the crowd until both men were out of earshot.

She whistled and shook her head. "That's a good-looking man, ain't he?"

"Who? Corey? He alright. He's like a slightly more attractive Taye Diggs."

"First off, ouch," June laughed. "Second, I was talking about Terry. He was cute in high school, but I'll be damned if that second puberty didn't take him to a whole 'nother level."

"Don't tell him that. His head is big enough."

"You know you wrong for that." If the music weren't so loud, everyone in the building would've heard the pair guffawing over Patrice's petty insult.

Once they contained themselves, June took a sip from her margarita and shifted in her seat to get closer to Patrice.

"He likes you still." Five plain words shook Patrice internally as she struggled to maintain a poker face. June continued. "I see the way he looks for your approval and damn near trips on himself to fulfill your every whim. You're all he talks about when he and Corey get on the phone."

"They talk?"

"From time to time. I think he needs a man's opinion sometimes, you know?"

Patrice wrestled with the influx of information as June continued.

"That man is mean as a snake. Always has been and always will be. But, you bring something out of him. Even if you can't always see it."

"If that were the case, things would've been different for us back then."

June shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe you're right where you're supposed to be. I know I can't make you do what you don't wanna do, but if what I say means anything, focus on today. Thirty-two-year-old Terry is so much more prepared to love you than eighteen-year-old Terry was."

Punctuating her advice, June tapped Patrice's leg twice before taking a step away to refill their tray of food.

Focus on today.

The words replayed in her mind repeatedly; even after their two hours were up, Terry had returned $100 richer, and they were back on the road to their quiet slice of the world.

They rode together in content quiet, letting the Quiet Storm host talk while Terry tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music.

Randomly, he would glance in her direction, assuming she had lost the sleep battle to her old friend Bacardi. When he reached over to adjust the air vent on her side of the car, he was surprised when she mumbled a low "thank you."

"My bad. I thought you were sleeping."

"No. My head is swimming, though. Don't let me drink that much anymore." she laughed.

He chuckled along with her but didn't agree to keep her from letting her hair down occasionally. In his eyes, seeing her relaxed and carefree was a gift to the world.

The opening notes of Tevin Campbell's "I'm Ready" swirled around them, sounding like a secret message to Patrice as she focused on streetlights to keep the contents of her dinner inside her stomach.

"Hey," she whispered before she could catch herself. Terry acknowledged her with a glance. "Do you think you're still scared?"

"Of what?"

"Of whatever kept you away for so long?"

He thought for a moment, wanting to make sure he was clear with his word. "No. I was never afraid of you. I was afraid of bringing you along for a ride I might not survive. That's not a threat anymore. So, no, I'm not scared anymore."

You know I'm ready

To love you

Forever

Patrice reached across the center console until she reached Terry's hand to interlock her fingers with his. He gave her an appreciative squeeze without taking his eyes off the road.

"I-I don't think I'm scared anymore either."

Her heart raced wildly behind her ribs, and Patrice was that if Terry pressed his wrist close enough to hers, he could feel her pulse accelerate. He didn't mind either way. Sweaty palms and trembling fingers would never be enough for him to let her go. Not again.

As if she'd break if he moved too fast, Terry brought her hand to his lips slowly. One kiss. Another. Two more. And a final one for good measure.

When he'd had his fill of her skin, he pressed the spot up against his cheek. He needed to feel and absorb her until they were one body.

But, for tonight at least, this was enough.

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse

#terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge #aaron pierre

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dee-writes-anime · 8 months ago

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Late Night Cravings with Toge Inumaki

FEATURING Toge Inumaki x Reader

SUMMARY It's 3am and you could really go for some nachos

CONTENT WARNINGS pregnancy trope, Toge being the biggest sweetheart, cutie fluffy stuff, I desperately need a nap, DETAILED mansplain of how I like my nachos mmmmm, cod roe :0

AUTHORS NOTE I promise I'm not dead, I've just been a little preoccupied with mental breakdowns and my coursework. ANYWHO, I hope you all enjoy this short little Toge shaped treat as my apology. I promise I will get to your requests soon, I've just been a little busy rotting away.

SERIES MASTERLIST

The clock on your nightstand read 3:24 a.m., and there you were, wide awake with an undeniable craving gnawing at you. It started as a faint whisper in your mind, a vague notion of something savory and warm. But within moments, it was as if your whole body was practically screaming for it. You tried to ignore it, rolling onto your other side and taking a few deep breaths, hoping you might fall back asleep. But the craving just got stronger. It was nachos that you wanted, and not just any nachos—ones with thick, gooey layers of cheese, topped with plenty of spicy jalapeños, all seasoned perfectly.

Sighing, you glanced at Toge, who was fast asleep beside you. You knew waking him up at this hour was ridiculous, but at the same time, there was no way you could satisfy the craving yourself. Your feet were sore, your back ached, and standing in the kitchen for that long just felt out of the question. So, after a moment of consideration, you gently nudged him. “Toge, honey,” you whispered softly, your fingers grazing his arm.

He stirred, his eyes fluttering open, squinting at you in the dim light of the room. “Salmon?” he murmured, his voice groggy but with a hint of concern. He shifted slightly, reaching for your hand with sleepy gentleness.

“I know it’s silly,” you whispered, your cheeks heating. “But I really need some nachos. Like, really cheesy ones, with jalapeños and a little extra salt. And I need them right now.”

There was a moment of silence as Toge took in your words, processing your request in his half-asleep state. And then, in typical Toge fashion, his mouth curved into the smallest, knowing smile, his eyes crinkling with warmth. “Tuna mayo,” he responded in a soft voice, which you knew translated to don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.

Slowly, he pushed himself up and stretched, giving you a quick, sleepy peck on your forehead before slipping out of bed. He held out his hand, gesturing for you to come with him. Smiling, you slipped your hand in his, letting him lead you to the kitchen. The quiet warmth of his presence made you feel like waking him up wasn’t such a selfish idea after all.

In the kitchen, he quickly assessed what he’d need, giving you a gentle nudge toward a bar stool at the counter so you could sit and relax. His hand grazed your belly as you settled, and you felt the baby kick lightly, almost as if they were getting excited along with you. Toge noticed the movement too, his eyes lighting up as he pressed a soft palm against your stomach, feeling the tiny kick. He chuckled softly, his expression turning playful as he raised an eyebrow, as if to say, Nachos for both of you, huh?

He went to work with silent efficiency, pulling out a bag of tortilla chips, a block of sharp cheddar, a handful of shredded mozzarella, and a little container of jalapeños. You watched as he grated the cheese with the focus and dedication he brought to everything, making sure each piece was perfectly even. You couldn’t help but admire how his hands moved, steady and precise, as he worked through his drowsiness.

A few minutes later, Toge spread the chips evenly on a baking sheet, layering them carefully with cheese and jalapeños. He added a few special touches he knew you’d love: a sprinkle of smoky paprika, a dash of garlic powder, and a little drizzle of honey, which he knew balanced out the spice and added a unique sweetness. You hadn’t even thought of that last part, but the smell alone made your mouth water.

When the nachos were finally in the oven, he came over to stand beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as you both leaned against the counter. He had this peaceful look on his face, and he squeezed you gently, pressing a light kiss to your temple. You could tell he wasn’t annoyed or even inconvenienced by the request. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself, glad to have a reason to take care of you and, by extension, the baby.

While the nachos baked, you both waited in companionable silence, Toge occasionally glancing at you with a warm look in his eyes, his thumb gently rubbing your shoulder. Eventually, the oven timer beeped, and he moved to pull out the tray. The aroma of melted cheese, spicy jalapeños, and a hint of honey filled the air, and you could practically feel your mouth watering.

Toge carefully plated the nachos, making sure to spread them out so each chip had a balanced mix of toppings. He set the plate in front of you with a soft smile, his eyes filled with affection and pride, as if he’d just finished creating a masterpiece.

You took a deep breath, savoring the smell, then reached for a nacho, giving him a thankful glance before you took your first bite. The mix of salty cheese, spicy jalapeño, and that touch of honey was perfect. Toge had gotten every single element just right, down to the exact amount of salt you were craving. You sighed contentedly, the happiness you felt translating into a soft, grateful smile.

“Mm, this is amazing,” you mumbled around a mouthful of nachos, your eyes half-closed in bliss. Toge watched you with a quiet laugh, his own expression softened, clearly pleased by how happy you looked. He pulled a stool closer, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you eat, every so often reaching over to swipe a chip himself.

As you both continued to munch away, you felt a gentle flutter from your belly, a little kick from the baby, as if they, too, were grateful for the midnight snack. Toge’s eyes darted to your stomach, his smile widening as he placed a gentle hand there, feeling the tiny movements under his palm. He looked up at you, a silent exchange passing between you as he leaned in to press a soft kiss on your forehead, then on your belly.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice filled with affection. Toge’s hand found yours, his fingers warm as they laced with yours, his violet eyes soft and full of love. He didn’t need words to tell you how much he cared; it was in every little action, in every quiet smile, and in every nacho he made just the way you liked.

TAGLIST

@makingtimemine @strawbrrycat @soraya-daydreams @shokosbunny @saltypuffin1040 @danilights2021 @startwithrecords @obeythebutler @sparklykeylime @surielstea

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #gege when i catch you gege #toge x reader #toge inumaki #jjk inumaki #inumaki #inumaki toge #inumaki toge x reader #toge #inumaki x reader #jujutsu kaisen inumaki

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bratzkoo · 9 months ago

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Merging Arrangments | wonwoo pt. 1

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: chaebol heir! wonwoo x chaebol heiress!/ nurse! reader Genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut Rating: PG-15 to NC-17 Word count: 4k~ Warnings/note: for my Anna, my beautiful nurse. Happy birthday!

Everything marked with [M] have mature scenes and should not be read by minors.

summary: Jeon Wonwoo's been smitten with you for years, as the two of you enter an arranged marriage, he hopes you'll feel the same.

Arrange marriage! au

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys , @gyubakeries , @tokitosun , @gaslysainz , @armycarat2612

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The Grand Hyatt Seoul stood majestically against the backdrop of Namsan Mountain, its glass facade reflecting the late afternoon sun. Today, the luxurious hotel buzzed with an energy beyond its usual five-star opulence. It was playing host to the wedding of the year—the union of Jeon Group and Kit Medical Group through their heirs, Jeon Wonwoo and Y/N Kit.

In the grand ballroom, staff members scurried about like well-dressed ants, making last-minute adjustments to flower arrangements and place settings. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over tables draped in silk, each centerpiece a small fortune of exotic blooms. The air hummed with anticipation and barely concealed gossip.

"I heard it was arranged just two months ago," a waiter whispered to his colleague as they adjusted the champagne flutes at the head table.

The other waiter nodded knowingly. "Chaebol marriages," he replied with a hint of cynicism. "Always about business, never about love."

"Shh!" hissed a nearby supervisor. "Less talking, more working. The guests will be arriving soon."

Outside, a fleet of black luxury cars began to arrive, disgorging a who's who of Korean high society. Cameras flashed as celebrities, business tycoons, and politicians made their way into the hotel, their designer outfits and dazzling jewelry a clear display of wealth and status.

---

In a luxurious suite upstairs, Y/N Kit sat before a gilded mirror, her reflection a picture of bridal perfection—and internal turmoil. Her raven hair was swept up in an intricate updo, adorned with tiny diamond-encrusted pins that caught the light with every slight movement. The wedding dress, a custom Vera Wang creation, hugged her figure before flowing out in a cascade of delicate lace and silk. Yet, her eyes, usually bright and determined, now held a hint of uncertainty, a stark contrast to the flawless makeup that adorned her face.

"Miss Y/N, you look absolutely stunning," her makeup artist gushed, stepping back to admire her work. "Like a princess from a fairy tale."

Y/N managed a weak smile, the effort evident. "Thank you," she murmured, her gaze fixed on her reflection, as if trying to recognize the woman staring back at her.

As the artist packed up her supplies, Y/N's mind drifted to two months ago, the day that had set this all in motion...

Y/N had just finished a grueling shift at the hospital, her scrubs rumpled and her hair in a messy ponytail. She'd been looking forward to a quiet evening at home, maybe catching up on some medical journals. Instead, she found her parents waiting in the living room, their faces a mix of excitement and stern determination."An arranged marriage?" Y/N had exclaimed, staring at her parents in disbelief. The words felt foreign on her tongue, like something out of a historical drama rather than her real life. "But I barely know Jeon Wonwoo!"

Her father's eyes had been steely, unyielding. "This union will secure the future of both our companies. It's your duty, Y/N. The merger with Jeon Group will allow us to expand our medical services, to help more people."

"But my nursing career—" Y/N had started, her voice trailing off as she saw the dismissive look in her mother's eyes.

"You can do charity work as a chaebol wife," her mother had interjected smoothly, reaching out to pat Y/N's hand. "It's time you left this nurse phase behind. Think of all the good you can do with the resources of both families at your disposal."

Y/N had felt the walls closing in, her carefully laid plans crumbling around her. "Don't I get a say in this?" she had asked, hating how small her voice sounded.

Her father's expression had softened slightly. "Sometimes, Y/N, we must put aside our personal desires for the greater good. This is one of those times."

A knock at the door jolted Y/N back to the present. She blinked rapidly, banishing the memory and the tears that threatened to form. The door opened to reveal her parents, her father resplendent in a bespoke tuxedo, her mother glittering with diamonds that probably cost more than most people's houses.

"Oh, darling," her mother cooed, gliding into the room with practiced grace. "You look perfect. Like a true Kit heiress."

Her father nodded approvingly, his eyes sweeping over Y/N with a businessman's attention to detail. "Remember, Y/N," he said, his voice gentle but firm, "smile for the cameras. This wedding is about more than just you and Wonwoo. It's about the future of both our families, and the thousands of people who rely on our companies."

Y/N felt her chest tighten at his words, the weight of expectation settling on her shoulders like a heavy cloak. She managed a nod, not trusting her voice to remain steady if she spoke.

As her parents left, murmuring about greeting guests, Y/N allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to center herself. The quiet was short-lived, however, as the door burst open again, admitting her best friends, Alexys and Ela.

"Wow, unnie!" Ela exclaimed, her eyes wide with admiration. "You look like a princess from a manhwa!"

Alexys whistled low, circling Y/N with an exaggerated appraising look. "A very expensive princess. I think your veil costs more than my apartment. Actually, probably more than my entire apartment building."

Despite herself, Y/N felt a laugh bubble up. "Alexys, behave!" she admonished, but there was no heat in her words.

"What?" Alexys grinned, striking a pose that was likely meant to be model-esque but came off more comical. "I'm just saying, if you need someone to carry that train, I volunteer as tribute. I could use a workout, and that dress looks heavy enough to count as weightlifting."

As they laughed, Y/N felt some of her tension ease. These were her people, the ones who knew her as just Y/N, not the Kit heiress or the future Mrs. Jeon. But as quickly as it had come, the moment of levity passed, and doubt crept back in, darkening her expression.

"I don't know if I can do this," Y/N confessed quietly, sinking onto a nearby chaise lounge. "It's all happening so fast. Two months ago, I was focused on my nursing career, on making a difference. And now..."

Ela sat beside her, squeezing her hand supportively. "You're the strongest person I know, Y/N. You'll get through this, and you'll find a way to make a difference, no matter what."

Alexys nodded, her face uncharacteristically serious as she knelt in front of Y/N. "And we'll be right here with you, every step of the way. Although," she added, a mischievous glint returning to her eye, "if you want to make a run for it, I've got a getaway car and a foolproof plan involving two wigs, a llama, and a hot air balloon."

Despite herself, Y/N giggled, the absurd image lightening her mood. "I think I'll pass on the llama plan. But thank you, both of you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Probably be a lot more stressed and a lot less entertained," Alexys quipped, standing up and smoothing out her bridesmaid dress. "Now, let's get you married, shall we? I've got a bet going with one of the groomsmen on whether I can catch the bouquet while doing a backflip."

As they prepared to leave the room, Y/N took one last look in the mirror. The woman looking back at her was a bride, yes, but she was also still Y/N. With her friends by her side, maybe she could face whatever came next.

---

In another suite, Jeon Wonwoo adjusted his bowtie for the thousandth time, his normally steady hands betraying his nerves. The sleek lines of his custom-tailored tuxedo accentuated his tall, lean frame, but it was his eyes that drew attention—dark, intelligent, and currently filled with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.

"You'll wear it out if you keep fiddling," Mingyu, his best friend and best man, commented from where he lounged on a nearby chair. Despite his relaxed posture, Mingyu cut an impressive figure in his own tuxedo, his easy smile a stark contrast to Wonwoo's tense expression.

Wonwoo sighed, dropping his hands and turning to face his friend. "I just want everything to be perfect. This day... it means more than anyone realizes."

Mingyu's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "You've been in love with her for years, haven't you? Y/N, I mean."

Wonwoo's silence was answer enough. His mind drifted to a charity gala five years ago, the first time he had truly seen Y/N Kit...

The ballroom had been crowded, full of Seoul's elite in expensive gowns and tuxedos. Wonwoo, then a university student being groomed to take over Jeon Group, had been making the rounds with his father, shaking hands and making small talk. That's when he had spotted her—Y/N Kit, still in high school, her eyes alight with passion as she spoke to a group of doctors.

"I want to be a nurse," she had been saying, her voice clear and determined. "Not just to follow in my family's footsteps, but to make a real difference. To be there for people when they're at their most vulnerable, to help them heal."

Wonwoo had found himself drawing closer, captivated by her enthusiasm, her compassion, her determination. In a room full of people discussing profit margins and market shares, she had been a breath of fresh air, talking about saving lives and making a difference.

That was the moment Wonwoo had fallen in love, though it had taken him some time to realize it.

"She doesn't know," Wonwoo said quietly, coming back to the present. "About my feelings, I mean. How could she? We've barely interacted outside of formal events."

Mingyu stood, clapping a hand on Wonwoo's shoulder. "Maybe this is your chance to show her, then. You're not just the Jeon heir, Wonwoo. You're a good man, with a lot to offer. Let her see that side of you."

A sharp knock interrupted them, causing both men to straighten instinctively. Wonwoo's parents entered, his father's eyes immediately zeroing in on Wonwoo's slightly askew bowtie.

"Fix that," he said brusquely, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The merger papers will be signed right after the ceremony. Everything must be perfect. The future of Jeon Group depends on this union."

Wonwoo nodded stiffly, adjusting his bowtie with practiced ease. "Yes, father. I understand the importance of today."

His mother, softer but no less focused on appearances, stepped forward to smooth an invisible wrinkle from his lapel. "You look handsome, Wonwoo-ya. Y/N Kit is a lucky girl."

As his parents left, likely to check on some other aspect of the wedding preparations, Mingyu let out a low whistle. "And I thought my parents were intense. Is it always like this?"

Wonwoo managed a weak smile, a hint of his usual dry humor showing through. "Welcome to the chaebol life, Mingyu-ya. All glamour and no pressure, right?"

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, if anyone can handle it, it's you. Just remember, behind all this..." he gestured vaguely at the opulent room and their formal attire, "you're still Wonwoo. The guy who stays up too late reading, who can't function without his morning coffee, and who once tried to adopt every stray cat in the neighborhood."

Wonwoo felt some of his tension ease at Mingyu's words. "Thanks, Mingyu. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Probably be a lot more stressed and a lot less handsome," Mingyu quipped, echoing Wonwoo's earlier smile. "Now, let's get you married, shall we? I've got a best man speech to deliver, and I promise only minimal embarrassment."

As they prepared to leave the room, Wonwoo took one last look in the mirror. The man looking back at him was the Jeon heir, yes, but he was also still Wonwoo. With his best friend by his side and hope in his heart, maybe he could make this arranged marriage into something real.

---

The wedding ceremony was a blur of camera flashes and murmured vows. The hotel's grand ballroom had been transformed into a floral wonderland, with thousands of white roses and lilies creating an enchanted atmosphere. Soft classical music played as guests took their seats, a mix of Korea's business elite, celebrities, and politicians all eager to witness the union of two powerful families.

A hush fell over the crowd as the wedding march began. All eyes turned to the back of the room, where Y/N appeared, a vision in white. She walked down the aisle with measured steps, her arm linked with her father's. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, her expression a carefully composed mask of bridal serenity.

In the front row, Alexys gave Y/N a subtle thumbs up, while Ela dabbed at her eyes with a delicate handkerchief. A few rows back, Choi Seung-cheol watched, his hands clenched tightly in his lap, his heart breaking with each step Y/N took towards another man.

At the altar, Wonwoo's breath caught as he saw Y/N. She was breathtakingly beautiful, the embodiment of grace and elegance. But it was the flash of vulnerability in her eyes, visible only for a moment as she took her place beside him, that made his heart ache. He wanted nothing more than to take her hand and tell her everything would be alright, that they could face this new chapter together.

The officiant began the ceremony, his words about love and commitment ringing with a hint of irony given the arranged nature of the marriage. As they exchanged rings, Y/N's hand trembled slightly. Wonwoo gave her fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze. For a moment, their eyes met, and something passed between them—a flicker of understanding, perhaps even a spark of connection.

"I, Jeon Wonwoo, take you, Y/N Kit, to be my lawfully wedded wife," Wonwoo said, his voice steady and clear, infused with a warmth that surprised even him.

"I, Y/N Kit, take you, Jeon Wonwoo, to be my lawfully wedded husband," Y/N replied, her voice softer but no less resolute.

Then the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, and the moment was gone, swept away in a tide of applause and camera flashes.

---

The reception was a whirlwind of congratulations, speeches, and thinly veiled business discussions. Y/N and Wonwoo moved through it all in a daze, playing their parts perfectly—the blushing bride and the proud groom, the perfect chaebol couple.

During their first dance, Wonwoo leaned in close, the scent of Y/N's perfume filling his senses. "Are you okay?" he murmured, genuine concern in his voice.

Y/N plastered on a smile for the cameras, her eyes scanning the room even as she replied. "I'm fine," she said, her voice barely audible over the swelling music. "This is what's expected of us, isn't it? To play our parts."

Before Wonwoo could respond, to tell her that it didn't have to be just an act, the dance ended and they were once again swept into the crowd of well-wishers and business associates.

As Y/N made her rounds, graciously accepting congratulations and deflecting questions about future heirs with practiced ease, she found herself face to face with Seung-cheol. For a moment, neither spoke, the air between them thick with unspoken words and missed opportunities.

"You look beautiful," Seung-cheol finally said, his voice rough with emotion. He looked dashing in his suit, a far cry from the casual attire she was used to seeing him in at the hospital.

"Seung-cheol, I—" Y/N began, not sure what she wanted to say but feeling the need to say something.

"Congratulations," he cut her off, unable to meet her eyes. "I hope you'll be very happy." The words sounded hollow, a social nicety that did nothing to bridge the chasm that had opened between them.

He walked away before Y/N could respond, leaving her staring after him, a mix of regret and longing on her face. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine a different world, one where she had followed her heart instead of her duty. But the moment passed, reality reasserting itself in the form of another well-wisher approaching to offer congratulations.

From across the room, Wonwoo watched the interaction between Y/N and Seung-cheol, his heart sinking. The look on Y/N's face as she watched Seung-cheol walk away spoke volumes. Wonwoo turned away, trying to quell the surge of jealousy and disappointment, only to nearly collide with Alexys.

"Whoa there, Mr. Chaebol," she said, steadying herself with a hand on his arm. "No need to sweep me off my feet. Save that for your bride." Her eyes twinkled with mischief, a stark contrast to the formal atmosphere around them.

Wonwoo blinked, taken aback by her casual tone. In his world of rigid formality, Alexys was like a breath of fresh air. "I'm sorry, I—"

Alexys waved him off. "No worries. I'm Alexys, by the way. Y/N's friend and designated baby girl." She leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice. "Between you and me, I think this party could use a little livening up. What do you say we spike the punch? I've got a flask of soju in my purse."

Despite himself, Wonwoo found a smile tugging at his lips. "I don't think that would be appropriate," he said, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

Alexys sighed dramatically. "You're right, of course. Guess I'll have to settle for embarrassing Y/N with my dance moves instead. Fair warning: I've been practicing my 'Gangnam Style'. It's not pretty, but it's enthusiastic."

As she sashayed away, hips swaying exaggeratedly, Wonwoo felt some of his tension ease. If these were Y/N's friends, maybe there was hope for them yet. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a place in this vibrant, genuine world so different from the one he'd grown up in.

The rest of the reception passed in a blur of faces and formalities. Mingyu gave a heartfelt best man speech, carefully skirting around any mention of his own secret marriage while still managing to both embarrass and honor Wonwoo.

"I've known Wonwoo since we were kids," Mingyu said, his voice carrying across the hushed ballroom. "And I can say without a doubt that he's the most loyal, caring, and intelligent person I know. Y/N," he turned to address the bride directly, "you're not just gaining a husband today. You're gaining a partner who will stand by you, support your dreams, and probably bore you with random historical facts."

A ripple of laughter went through the crowd, and Wonwoo felt a surge of gratitude for his friend. Beside him, he felt Y/N relax slightly, a small, genuine smile playing on her lips.

As the evening wore on, business associates cornered both sets of parents, eager to discuss the implications of this new alliance. Talks of mergers, stock prices, and market expansions filled the air, a constant reminder of the true nature of this union.

Ela and Mingyu exchanged secret glances across the room, their own hidden marriage a sharp contrast to the spectacle around them. At one point, they managed to steal a moment together near the dessert table.

"How are you holding up?" Ela asked, her voice low.

Mingyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's harder than I thought, watching my best friend go through this. Knowing what we have..." he trailed off, his eyes conveying what he couldn't say aloud.

Ela squeezed his hand briefly. "I know. But we have to trust that they'll find their way, just like we did."

Their moment was interrupted by Alexys, who appeared with a plate piled high with desserts. "Don't mind me," she said, noticing their startled expressions. "Just here for the cake. Carry on with your secret rendezvous."

Ela rolled her eyes fondly. "Very subtle, Alexys."

"Subtlety is overrated," Alexys replied around a mouthful of cake. "Unlike this dessert. Seriously, you two should try this before the chaebol vultures descend and devour everything."

Finally, as the evening wound down, Y/N and Wonwoo found themselves alone for a moment on a balcony overlooking the Seoul skyline. The city stretched out before them, a glittering tapestry of lights and possibilities.

"It's beautiful," Y/N murmured, gazing out at the city lights. For a moment, she allowed herself to drop the perfect bride facade, her shoulders sagging slightly with exhaustion.

Wonwoo looked at her, illuminated by the soft glow of the lanterns. The fatigue evident in the line of her shoulders, the wistfulness in her eyes as she looked out at the city – it all made her seem more real, more human than the porcelain doll she'd appeared as all day. "Yes, it is," he agreed softly, though his eyes never left her face.

Y/N turned to him, and for a moment, the masks slipped away entirely. They were just two people, thrust into an impossible situation, trying to make the best of it. The vulnerability in Y/N's eyes matched the uncertainty Wonwoo felt.

"Wonwoo, I—" Y/N began, her voice hesitant.

"Y/N, dear!" her mother's voice cut through the moment like a knife. "It's time to leave for your honeymoon. The car is waiting."

The spell broken, Y/N and Wonwoo shared a rueful look before making their way back inside. They said their goodbyes, accepted final congratulations, and made their way to the waiting car.

As they settled into the backseat of the luxury vehicle, a heavy silence fell between them. The partition between them and the driver offered a semblance of privacy, but neither seemed to know what to say now that they were truly alone.

From the steps of the hotel, Seung-cheol watched the car pull away, his heart heavy. He'd come to the wedding hoping for... what? A last-minute confession? A dramatic objection? Now, watching the taillights disappear into the Seoul traffic, he felt the finality of the situation settle over him like a weight.

Ela and Mingyu stood together, their hands brushing but not quite holding in deference to the watchful eyes around them. Their own secret weighed on them as they watched their friends drive off into an uncertain future.

Alexys stood with her arm around Ela, for once without a quip. "They'll be okay, right?" she asked, her usual bravado absent.

Ela leaned into her friend's embrace. "I hope so," she said softly. "I really hope so."

The parents watched with satisfaction, already planning their next moves. Mergers to finalize, press releases to craft, the future of their empires to secure.

As the car merged into the Seoul traffic, Y/N and Wonwoo sat side by side, not touching, each lost in their own thoughts. The future stretched out before them, uncertain and daunting. The weight of expectations, of duty, of their own conflicted feelings – it all seemed overwhelming in the quiet of the car.

But as the city lights blurred past the windows, something shifted. Almost imperceptibly, Y/N's hand moved closer to Wonwoo's on the leather seat between them. And after a moment's hesitation, he took it, giving it a gentle squeeze.

They didn't look at each other. They didn't speak. But in that small gesture lay the tiniest seed of hope for Wonwoo – a hope that maybe, just maybe, they could face this uncertain future together. That perhaps, in time, duty could become desire, and an arranged marriage could become something real.

As the car wound its way through the streets of Seoul, taking them towards their honeymoon and the beginning of their life together, that small point of contact between them seemed to hold all the possibility in the world.

396 notes · View notes

starlovesganyu · 5 months ago

Text

a spark in the night!

❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀

a firefly x gn!reader oneshot

warnings: none

words: 2885

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Firefly’s finger hovered shakily over your contact's call button.

It’s just a dinner…to catch up! Nothing more! she thought to herself.

And maybe even some evening shopping…if things went well…we could perhaps even hold ha—she quickly swatted those thoughts out of her head. She couldn’t even call you, let alone make a physical move! Turning in her bed, she took a deep breath and steeled her nerves. She was a weapon of destruction, engineered to fight against the Swarm, yet couldn’t ask someone out on a date! The burst of confidence was enough for her to press the call button, but it quickly crumbled away when she saw your contact photo take up her screen. It was a picture of you standing in front of the Clockie Statue in Penacony, smiling toward the camera. If she looked closely enough, she could just make out the way your eyes sparkled whenever you smiled. Her eyes settled on your lips, and without realizing it, raised a finger to her own. How soft your lips would feel…

“Hello?”

Your voice jolted her back to reality, causing her to drop her phone.

“H-hi! Uh… it’s me! Firefly! I mean, of course, you know it’s me–I’m the one who called–sorry, I just–” She cut herself off with an awkward laugh, her face burning. “Uhm–I was just wondering if maybe…you’d like to grab dinner with me sometime? T-To catch up of course!” She internally cringed. She totally fucked that up.

“Dinner sounds great! How about tomorrow evening? Does that work for you?”

“T-tomorrow!? Er–I mean, that works for me.” Her heart skipped a beat, a mix of relief and panic swirling inside her. Tomorrow? That’s so soon! What am I even going to wear? She bit her lip, her thoughts spiraling as she tried to steady herself.

"Great! Tomorrow it is! See you then, Firefly.”

Hearing you say her name sent a wave of warmth through her, and her stomach flipped in response. As soon as the call ended, she flopped back onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow. A muffled squeal escaped her as she kicked her feet up and down, unable to contain the giddy energy bubbling over.

Rolling onto her back, she hugged her pillow tightly, her cheeks aching from how hard she was smiling. For now, the thrill of anticipation eclipsed her worries, though a tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her that tomorrow would come faster than she expected.

⋆˙⟡♡–

The next day, Firefly found herself standing in front of her closet, her heart pounding as she sifted through her clothes. “Why is this so hard? It’s just a dinner to catch up,” she muttered to herself, though the butterflies in her stomach said otherwise.

Every outfit she tried on felt either too casual or too formal, and a growing pile of discarded options covered her bed. Her eyes darted to the clock on her bedside table–only an hour and a half before their agreed-upon meetup time. How had time slipped away so quickly?

She finally decided on the teal-fitted sweater, not just because it looked good on her, but because it was her favorite. It was soft and warm, and wearing it gave her a little boost of confidence. I need all the confidence I can get tonight, she thought, smoothing the fabric down nervously. Paired with slim black jeans and ankle boots, the outfit was comfortable but polished. To finish it off, she added a delicate silver necklace and matching earrings, her fingers lingering anxiously over the clasp as she put them on. Her hair was swept back into a simple but neat half-up style, and she’d dabbed on just a hint of makeup–enough to bring out her features without feeling overdone. As she gave herself one last look in the mirror, worrisome thoughts started to swim in her head: Does this look like I’m trying too hard? Or not hard enough? Maybe I should’ve gone with the other sweater… no, this one’s fine. Right? She shook those thoughts out of her head. With a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and forced a confident smile at her reflection. You’ve got this, Firefly. Just be yourself.

The cold night air nipped at her nose as she stepped out of her warm apartment. A chilly breeze ruffled her hair as she passed a family sitting on a park bench, a mother and father laughing together while their two children chased each other around in the grass. Her mind drifted to you. Maybe if things went well with you…she could settle down and–her mind slapped itself back into some common sense. A soft sigh escaped her lips before she quickly shook her head. One step at a time, Firefly.

“What’s got you blushing like that?”

Firefly jumped at the sound of a familiar voice. “S-Silver Wolf?!”

Silver Wolf (in hologram form) stood off to the side, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. “Or maybe the better question is: who?”

“N-nothing and no one!” Firefly stammered, crossing her arms defensively. “I’m just a little cold is all.” She tugged at her sweater as if to prove her point, though she knew the excuse was flimsy at best.

“The cold never makes someone’s cheeks that red.” Silver Wolf gave her a knowing look. “Just spit it out already.”

Firefly fidgeted, shifting her weight from foot to foot, her mind racing for an escape. “It’s really nothing,” she insisted, though the quaver in her voice betrayed her.

Silver Wolf raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Uh-huh, nothing, sure.” She leaned in a little closer, the grin never leaving her face. “You’re thinking about someone, aren’t you? Someone you have a date with tonight?”

Firefly’s face burned hotter, and she quickly turned her head away. How did Silver Wolf always know so much? Was she that easy to read? “I-I’m not thinking about them! And it’s not a date! We’re just catching up. That’s it. Really!”

Silver Wolf’s grin widened, her holographic form flickering slightly as she laughed. “Ah, so there is a ‘them.’ Knew it!”

Firefly groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Why do I even bother talking to you?” she muttered through her fingers

“Because you know I’m always right. Now, go have fun on your totally-not-a-date.” She paused, her tone turning mischievous. “But you will tell me everything later. And don’t you dare skip the juicy parts.”

Firefly peeked at her through her fingers, her face still glowing red. “There won’t be any juicy parts,” she mumbled.

“Sure, sure,” Silver Wolf said with a wink. “We’ll see about that.”

Before Firefly could sputter a response, Silver Wolf’s hologram flickered out of existence, leaving Firefly standing there with her thoughts spinning in every direction. She groaned again, glancing at the time on her phone.

Shit, she was going to be late!

⋆˙⟡♡–

Firefly hurried down the street, her boots clicking against the pavement as the chilly night air nipped at her cheeks, leaving them a rosy red. She clutched her sweater tightly around her, the soft fabric doing little to calm the butterflies swirling around in her stomach.

As she approached the meeting spot–a cozy bistro tucked away on a quieter street–she slowed her pace and took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. The warm glow of the café’s lights spilled out onto the sidewalk, and through the glass, she could already see you sitting at a corner table, your gaze flickering between the menu and the entrance. Her heart skipped a beat. You looked even better than she remembered. She hesitated for a moment, smoothing her sweater again and taking a quick glance at her reflection in the window to make sure she looked okay. This is fine. It’s just a dinner to catch up! Nothing else. With one last deep breath, she stepped inside, the soft chime of a bell signaling her arrival.

Your eyes immediately shot up at the ding of the bell, a smile blooming across your face as you saw her, causing her to flush instantly. Firefly quickly made her way to the table, her eyes looking everywhere but at you. “Hey, sorry for making you wait. I got caught up with a few last-minute things”

“No worries Firefly, I’m glad you could make it.” You gestured toward the seat across from you, your smile warm and inviting. “Have a seat. I already ordered some water, but if you want something else, just let the server know.”

Firefly nodded, sliding into the chair as her fingers nervously played with the strap of her bag. “Thanks. Water’s fine,” she murmured, sneaking a glance at you before quickly looking down at the menu. Why did her heart feel like it was about to jump out of her chest?

“So,” you began, looking up from your menu. “It’s been a while! How’s life been treating you?”

“Oh, you know,” Firefly replied, trying to keep her tone casual. “Busy as ever. Missions, reports… the usual.” She twirled a lock of hair between her fingers, a habit she had whenever she was nervous.

You chuckled softly. “That’s the Firefly I know—always working hard. Though I hope you’re not so busy you forgot how to relax.”

Firefly let out a small laugh, though it was a little shaky. “I try. Tonight’s a step, right?” She mentally kicked herself for how awkward that sounded.

Before you could respond, the server arrived with a cheerful greeting, setting down glasses of water and taking your orders. As soon as the server left, Firefly dared to meet your gaze again.

“I have to admit,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I was a little nervous about tonight.”

Your brow lifted slightly, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Nervous? Why? It’s just me.”

“That’s exactly why,” she blurted, then immediately clamped her mouth shut, her cheeks burning.

For a moment, you looked surprised before a warm laugh escaped your lips. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you came.”

Firefly felt her heart flutter at your words, her nerves beginning to ease just a little. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

⋆˙⟡♡–

Dinner had gone better than Firefly could have hoped. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much, the tension in her shoulders melting away with every story and joke shared across the table. Outside, the city lights glimmered like stars, reflecting off the shop windows lining the street. Firefly walked beside you, her hands tucked into her sweater pockets. Every so often, your arm brushed hers, and her heart skipped a beat each time. She caught herself glancing at your hand, so close, just hanging there at your side. Her fingers twitched in her pockets, yearning to reach out, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. What if it made things awkward? What if you didn’t want that? She bit her lip, willing herself to focus on the glowing shopfronts instead.

“Look at this,” you said, stopping in front of a boutique window displaying an array of intricate, handmade jewelry. “These are beautiful.”

Firefly stepped closer, her breath fogging up the glass as she examined the delicate designs. “They really are,” she said softly, her gaze lingering on a silver bracelet with a small charm shaped like a firefly.

“Something catch your eye?” you asked, noticing the way her eyes had lit up.

She nodded with a small smile. “That bracelet. It’s cute.”

You chuckled. “Fitting, don’t you think?”

She rolled her eyes, her fingers curling tighter into her pockets as her smile grew. “Very funny.”

The two of you continued walking down the quiet streets, the night air cool against your skin. Firefly’s thoughts were scattered, her gaze alternating between the twinkling lights of the city and the side of your face. She felt so… comfortable. It was as if everything else in the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in this peaceful bubble.

“I’m really glad we did this,” she said quietly, her voice carrying the sincerity she’d been holding back all night. “I’ve needed something like this for a while.”

You smiled, glancing at her with warmth in your eyes. “Me too, Firefly. It’s been nice.”

The two of you slowed your pace, the conversation winding down as you passed an art gallery with abstract paintings hanging in the window. For a moment, Firefly found herself lost in thought, the sound of your footsteps beside hers filling her ears.

“I think… I think I love you,” Firefly blurted before she could stop herself.

The words hung in the air like a balloon about to pop, and then, in slow motion, Firefly’s hands flew up to cover her face, her eyes going wide in horror. “Wait, no! I didn’t mean—”

You stopped walking and turned to face her, your expression unreadable. Firefly’s heart immediately began to race, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She felt like she might melt into the ground.

“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that,” she stammered, her voice high-pitched as if trying to shove the words back into her mouth. “I just—”

Before she could finish her apology, you reached out, gently grabbing her hand, your touch warm and grounding, cutting through the whirlwind of panic in her chest. Firefly froze, her breath hitching.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, your voice calm and reassuring. The corners of your mouth lifted into a tender, genuine smile that made her knees feel like jelly. “I think I feel the same way.”

Firefly’s heart seemed to stop and then restart all at once, pounding so loudly in her ears that she was sure you could hear it. Her wide eyes met yours, disbelief and hope flickering across her face. She blinked up at you, her face still on fire, as if she’d just been told she was dreaming. “You… do?”

Your smile grew a little, your gaze never leaving hers. “Yeah,” you said, your voice unwavering, carrying a quiet honesty that sent a wave of warmth through her. “I do.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. For a moment, she could only stare, her mind spinning in disbelief. Did this really just happen? Could this possibly be real? Her fingers twitched beneath your hand, and she slowly curled them around yours, as if to anchor herself to reality. You reached up and gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, your fingers grazing her skin. It was a simple touch, but it sent a shiver down her spine, and she couldn’t help but smile, feeling her heart flutter once more.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice soft as you looked into her eyes.

Firefly swallowed, still feeling a little dizzy from the revelation. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just… didn’t expect that to go the way it did.”

The moment hung between you like a spark, and for a second, Firefly forgot how to breathe. Her gaze dropped to your lips, and she couldn’t stop her heart from racing again. Was she imagining things? Was this really happening?

You seemed to sense her thoughts. Slowly, gently, you leaned closer, your breath warm on her face. Firefly’s pulse quickened, and the world around her seemed to fade away until there was only you, her, and the feeling that something was about to change.

When you were only a few inches away, you paused, your eyes flickering to hers, waiting for her to respond. Firefly’s breath hitched. She couldn’t believe this was really happening, but she didn’t want to pull away. She wanted this. She wanted you.

Without thinking, she squeezed her eyes shut and closed the gap, her lips meeting yours in a tentative kiss. It was light at first, unsure and gentle, but something inside her stirred, and she deepened it, just a little, giving in to the overwhelming feeling of being so close to you. Your hand found the back of her neck, pulling her even closer, and she melted into you, her whole body relaxing in your arms. Firefly felt like she was floating, every second stretching out into something magical. Your lips were softer than she had imagined, and your touch sent sparks flying through her body.

When you finally pulled away, Firefly felt a flutter in her chest, as if the kiss had left a lingering warmth that spread through her entire body.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Firefly smiled, her lips still tingling from the kiss. “Yeah,” she breathed, feeling light-headed but more alive than she had in ages. “More than okay.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything more, just standing there together, the world outside of your little bubble forgotten. But Firefly’s thoughts were racing, and though everything felt perfect, she couldn’t help but feel a bit uncertain.

“So, uhm…” she started, her voice still a little breathless, “does this mean I can call this our first date?”

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. “You weren’t sure before?”

Firefly bit her lip, feeling a small laugh bubble up. “I guess I wasn’t sure of a lot of things.”

“Well,” you said, “you’re sure now?”

Firefly’s heart fluttered, and she nodded. “Definitely sure now.”

thanks for reading!!! this was my first ever oneshot so apologies if it wasn't the best.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #firefly x reader #hsr firefly #firefly

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archivegyu · 2 months ago

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sandcastles and sunshine

The summer sun beat down on Gyeongpo Beach, its golden rays dancing across the sparkling water. A five-year-old girl sat alone in the dappled shade of the trees lining the edge of the beach, her small hands meticulously shaping wet sand into what would soon be her masterpiece. Unlike the other kindergarteners running wildly along the shoreline, shrieking with delight as waves chased their tiny feet, she preferred the quiet satisfaction of creation.

Her dark hair was pulled back into two neat pigtails, secured with purple butterfly clips that matched her swimsuit. A light coating of sunscreen protected her nose and cheeks, applied carefully by her mother who sat several meters away on a beach towel, engrossed in conversation with other parents. Not far away, her seven-year-old brother Wonwoo lounged with a picture book, occasionally glancing up to check on his little sister.

"Almost perfect," she murmured to herself, carefully placing a small shell at the top of her castle's tallest tower. She had been working on this sandcastle for nearly an hour, adding intricate details that children her age rarely had the patience for. A moat with a small channel leading to the sea. Windows carved with a plastic spoon. Even a drawbridge made of driftwood she had discovered earlier that morning during her careful exploration of the beach.

She wasn't like most of the other children in her kindergarten class. While they finger-painted with wild abandon and sang loudly during music time, she preferred analyzing picture books and solving puzzles. Her teacher often remarked to her parents that she had "an old soul" — serious, thoughtful, and particular. Today at the beach was no exception; while chaos and excitement reigned around her, she found her joy in solitude and precision.

That is, until a shadow fell across her castle.

"Wow! That's amazing!"

She looked up to see a boy about her age standing over her creation. He was tall for a five-year-old, with bright eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. His swimsuit was bright blue with yellow fish printed all over it, and he was clutching a plastic bucket in one hand.

This was Kim Mingyu. She recognized him from her kindergarten class, though they had never really spoken. Mingyu was everything she was not: loud, perpetually in motion, and surrounded by friends. He was the boy who always volunteered to feed the class hamster, who shared his snacks with everyone, and who inevitably knocked something over at least once a day.

"Thanks," she replied quietly, returning to her work. She hoped the boy would take the hint and leave her to her castle.

Mingyu did not take the hint. Instead, he plopped down in the sand beside her, his long limbs sprawling. "I tried making a castle earlier but the waves kept washing it away. How did you make yours so big?"

She sighed softly. "You have to build it far enough from the water," she explained, not looking up. "And the sand needs to be wet but not too wet."

"Can I help?" Mingyu asked eagerly, already reaching for one of her spare shells.

Before she could answer, Mingyu leaned forward to place the shell on her castle. As he did, his elbow caught on his bucket, sending it tumbling directly onto the castle's main tower. In his haste to catch it, Mingyu lost his balance completely, his gangly body crashing straight through her careful creation.

Time seemed to stop. Where once stood an impressive sandcastle now lay a flattened mound, with Mingyu sprawled across it.

She stared in horror. All her careful work, destroyed in seconds. Her hands began to tremble slightly as she processed what had happened.

Mingyu scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with dismay. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—I was just trying to—" He looked genuinely devastated, his lower lip quivering slightly.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she held them back. She didn't like crying in front of others. Instead, she stared at the ruined castle, her face a mask of quiet disappointment.

Across the beach, Wonwoo had witnessed the entire incident. In an instant, he was on his feet, marching toward them with purpose, his book forgotten on his towel. Wonwoo took his big brother duties very seriously, especially when it came to protecting his introverted sister.

"Hey!" Wonwoo called out, his voice stern as he approached. "What happened here?"

Mingyu looked up at the older boy with genuine alarm. Wonwoo might only be seven, but to a five-year-old, he seemed impossibly tall and intimidating, especially with his serious expression and the colorful band-aid across his nose that somehow made him look tougher.

"I—I knocked over her castle," Mingyu admitted, hanging his head. "It was an accident."

Wonwoo frowned, looking between the flattened sand pile and his sister's crestfallen face. "She worked really hard on that," he said, crossing his arms.

"I know," Mingyu replied, his voice small. Then, with surprising resolution for such a young child, he straightened his shoulders and turned to her. "I'm really, really sorry. I'll help you build it again! I'll make it even better!"

She remained silent, staring at the ruins of her creation. A logical part of her brain knew it was just sand, that eventually the tide would have claimed it anyway. But another part, the part that took pride in her careful work, felt utterly deflated.

Wonwoo's frown deepened. "I don't think—"

"Please," Mingyu interrupted, looking earnestly at her. "I promise I'll be careful. I can get more shells and—and I know where there are some really cool rocks with holes in them! They could be windows or—or cannons!"

Despite herself, she felt a flicker of interest. She had seen those rocks earlier but hadn't been able to reach them.

Wonwoo noticed the slight change in his sister's expression. "Do you want him to help?"

After a long moment, she gave a small nod. "Okay. But you have to follow my instructions," she added firmly to Mingyu.

Mingyu's face broke into a dazzling smile, his entire being seeming to light up with relief and excitement. "I will! I promise! I'll follow all your instructions!"

Wonwoo wasn't entirely convinced. "I'm watching you," he warned Mingyu, pointing two fingers at his eyes and then at the boy. "If you make my sister upset again..."

"I won't!" Mingyu promised earnestly. "Cross my heart!" He made an exaggerated X motion over his chest, almost losing his balance again in the process.

With a final skeptical look, Wonwoo retreated a short distance away, close enough to intervene if needed but far enough to give the children some space.

She surveyed the flattened sand with a critical eye. "We'll need to start over completely," she announced, her practical nature already asserting itself over her disappointment.

"I can get fresh wet sand!" Mingyu offered eagerly, grabbing his bucket. He darted toward the water's edge, his enthusiasm evident in every bouncing step. As he ran, he tripped over his own feet, face-planting briefly in the sand before popping up as if nothing had happened, continuing his mission without missing a beat.

She watched him go with mild trepidation. Mingyu's eagerness to help was admirable, but his execution left something to be desired. Still, she began clearing away the remains of her ruined castle, making space for a new beginning.

Mingyu returned moments later, water sloshing from his overfilled bucket. "I got the wettest sand!" he announced proudly, tripping slightly as he approached.

Her eyes widened in alarm as the bucket tilted precariously. "Careful!" she warned.

To her surprise, Mingyu recovered his balance with unexpected grace. He set the bucket down gently beside her. "I almost spilled it," he acknowledged with a sheepish grin. "But I didn't! See? I'm being super careful now." He demonstrated his seriousness by sitting down very slowly and deliberately next to her, his tongue poking out between his teeth in concentration.

She nodded approvingly. "We need to make a good base first," she instructed, beginning to spread the wet sand into a large circle. "It has to be really strong to hold everything else."

Mingyu watched her work with admiration. "You know a lot about sandcastles," he observed.

"My brother taught me," she replied, glancing over at Wonwoo, who was pretending to read his book while clearly keeping an eye on them. "He says you have to have a good foundation for anything important."

"That's smart," Mingyu nodded seriously, as if absorbing a profound philosophical concept. Then, with characteristic Mingyu enthusiasm, he added, "I'm going to get those special rocks now! Don't build too much without me!"

Before she could respond, he was off again, sprinting down the beach toward a collection of tide pools in the distance. As he ran, his arms windmilled wildly, and he let out a gleeful "Woohoo!" that turned several heads.

She shook her head slightly, but there was the faintest hint of amusement in her expression now.

𓆉⋆｡˚⋆❀ 🐚🫧𓇼 ˖°

From their spot under a large beach umbrella about thirty meters away, two sets of parents watched the scene unfold with interest.

"Isn't that Mingyu?" asked a woman in a floral sun hat, nudging her husband.

The man squinted against the sunlight. "Yes, that's him. Oh dear, looks like he knocked over someone's sandcastle." He winced slightly. "That boy and his limbs... he's all knees and elbows these days."

"Who's the little girl?" asked the woman, adjusting her sunglasses. "She seems quite serious for her age."

"That's my daughter," the woman nearby replied "And my son Wonwoo just went over to check on them. He's very protective."

The adults watched as Wonwoo appeared to mediate the situation before retreating to a watchful distance.

"Your daughter doesn't seem too upset now," observed Mingyu's mother. "That's a relief. Mingyu means well, but sometimes his enthusiasm gets the better of him."

"She usually plays alone," her mother replied with a slight smile. "She finds most children too... unpredictable."

"And Mingyu is nothing if not unpredictable," laughed his father. "Look at him go!" They all watched as Mingyu sprinted down the beach, fell, bounced back up, and continued running.

"Should we intervene?" asked the girl's father, half rising from his beach chair.

His wife placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Let's give them a chance. Look, Wonwoo is keeping an eye on them, and she actually seems... interested."

The four adults shared knowing glances.

"First day at the beach together and they're already building sandcastles," Mingyu's mother mused with a smile. "Who knows? Could be the start of a beautiful friendship."

They settled back to watch their children from afar, occasionally exchanging amused comments as Mingyu's antics continued and the little girl began to emerge from her shell.

𓆉⋆｡˚⋆❀ 🐚🫧𓇼 ˖°

As she worked on the castle's foundation, she found herself constantly glancing up to track Mingyu's progress along the beach. He moved with boundless energy, occasionally stopping to examine something interesting before remembering his mission and dashing off again. There was something fascinating about his uninhibited enthusiasm that contrasted sharply with her own measured approach to life.

Mingyu returned triumphantly with his t-shirt transformed into a makeshift pouch, filled with an assortment of small, holey rocks, unusually shaped shells, and even a piece of smooth sea glass. "Look what I found!" he exclaimed, carefully emptying his treasures onto the sand beside her.

She examined his collection with genuine interest. Some of the items were truly unique, perfect for decorating their castle. "These are good," she admitted, selecting a particularly interesting spiral shell.

Mingyu beamed at the compliment. "I picked the best ones just for your castle!"

"Our castle," she corrected quietly, surprising herself. She wasn't usually one for collaborative projects, preferring to work alone where she could control every detail. But something about Mingyu's earnest desire to make amends touched her.

If possible, Mingyu's smile grew even wider. "Our castle," he repeated reverently. "It's going to be the best castle on the whole beach!"

For the next several minutes, the unlikely pair worked side by side. She directed the overall design, explaining to Mingyu the importance of packing the sand just right and creating supports for the taller structures. Mingyu, for his part, followed her instructions with unusual concentration for a child typically so easily distracted. When not carrying out her precise directions, he added his own creative touches – a small collection of pebbles arranged to look like people in the castle courtyard, a moat decorated with colorful shells.

"That's the king," he explained, pointing to a particularly round stone. "And that one with the pink shell is the princess. She's really smart, like you."

She felt her cheeks warm slightly at the comparison. "Princesses in real castles probably weren't very smart," she countered logically. "They didn't get to go to school like we do."

Mingyu considered this with surprising seriousness. "Then she's not a regular princess," he decided. "She's a science princess who invents things and reads lots of books."

Despite herself, she smiled. "A science princess is better," she agreed.

A butterfly fluttered past, and Mingyu gasped in delight. "Look!" he whispered loudly, pointing at the delicate creature. "It's coming to visit our castle!"

The butterfly, a vibrant blue, danced on the air currents before landing briefly on one of their castle towers. Both children held their breath, watching in wonder. After a moment, it fluttered away.

"The castle is so good even butterflies want to live there," Mingyu declared with absolute conviction, his eyes wide with wonder.

She couldn't help but giggle at his enthusiasm. "Butterflies don't live in castles," she corrected gently.

"This one wanted to," Mingyu insisted. "It was just checking if its room was ready."

From his watchful position several meters away, Wonwoo observed the developing friendship with growing interest. He had been prepared to step in at the first sign that this clumsy boy was upsetting his sister again. Instead, he was witnessing something rare – his sister actually enjoying another child's company. Wonwoo knew better than anyone how selective his sister was about her companions. Most children found her too serious, too particular, while she found them too loud and chaotic.

Yet somehow, this enthusiastic, accident-prone boy had broken through her careful reserve. Wonwoo found himself relaxing his guard slightly, though he continued to keep a watchful eye.

As their castle grew more elaborate, so did the imaginary stories Mingyu began spinning about it. The science princess was now joined by a knight who was very strong but sometimes tripped over his sword (Wonwoo strongly suspected this character was based on Mingyu himself). There were dragons that weren't scary but instead helped the castle inhabitants by flying them to different places and keeping the castle warm in winter with their gentle fire breath.

She, usually not one for imaginative play, found herself contributing to the narrative. "The princess would need a laboratory," she pointed out, carefully crafting a small subsidiary structure with her plastic spoon. "For her experiments."

"And a library!" Mingyu added enthusiastically. "With ALL the books in the world!"

"That would be too heavy for a sand castle," she replied practically, but then added, "Maybe just the most important books."

"Like dinosaur books!" Mingyu suggested, bouncing slightly in place.

"And space books," she nodded. "And books about animals."

"And books about robots that can turn into cars!" Mingyu added, making transforming noises and gestures that nearly knocked over a small tower. He froze mid-motion, eyes wide with alarm, but the tower remained intact. Both children let out relieved sighs.

At one point, Mingyu decided that their moat needed water and ran to the sea with his bucket. On his return journey, sloshing water from the overfilled container with each step, he spotted a small crab scuttling across his path. His delighted shriek was so loud that several nearby beachgoers turned to look. He dropped to his knees, water splashing everywhere, to watch the creature's sideways dash.

"Come look!" he called excitedly to her. "There's a tiny crab! He could be the castle guard!"

Curious despite herself, she walked over to see. The crab was indeed tiny, its shell barely larger than a coin. It waved its miniature pincers defensively as the two children observed it.

"He's so brave," Mingyu whispered in awe. "He's not scared of us even though we're giants to him."

"He's scared," she corrected matter-of-factly. "That's why his claws are up. We should leave him alone."

"Oh." Mingyu looked disappointed but nodded in understanding. "Bye, Mr. Crab," he said solemnly. "Sorry we scared you. Your castle is that way." He pointed helpfully in the direction the crab had been heading.

She found herself fighting back another smile at this earnest farewell to a creature that couldn't possibly understand him. There was something oddly endearing about Mingyu's willingness to speak to anything and everything with the same friendly openness.

When they returned to their castle, Mingyu remembered his original mission and carefully poured water into the moat they had constructed around the perimeter. His brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to keep his usually uncooperative hands steady.

"Slow down," she instructed, seeing that he was about to overflow one section. "You need to give the sand time to absorb the water."

Mingyu immediately slowed his pouring to an exaggerated trickle, his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration. "Like this?" he asked without looking up, his entire being focused on the task.

"Yes," she confirmed, impressed by his ability to follow precise instructions when properly motivated. "That's perfect."

The praise made Mingyu beam so brightly it was almost as if he'd lit up from within. His smile was infectious, causing a matching one to spread across her own usually serious face.

At one point, disaster nearly struck again when a beach ball bounced dangerously close to their creation. Mingyu, showing surprising reflexes, lunged to intercept it before it could damage the castle. He tumbled into the sand, well clear of their masterpiece, clutching the offensive ball triumphantly.

"Nice save!" called a voice from down the beach. A group of older children approached, the apparent owners of the runaway ball.

Mingyu returned the ball with a friendly smile. "You have to be careful," he explained earnestly. "We built a castle and it's really special."

The older children might have laughed at being lectured by a kindergartener, but something in Mingyu's sincere delivery made them take notice. They came closer to examine the increasingly impressive structure.

"Whoa," one of them said, genuinely impressed. "That's actually really cool."

"My friend designed it," Mingyu announced proudly, pointing to her, who immediately shrank back from the attention. "She's super smart and knows all about how to make the sand stay together."

She blinked in surprise. Not only had Mingyu called her his friend (a presumption she might normally have corrected), but he was giving her credit for their creation, despite his own significant contributions.

The older children nodded appreciatively at the castle. "Nice work, kid," one of them said to her. "That's way better than the ones we used to make."

As the group moved on, Mingyu flopped down beside her, sending a small spray of sand into the air. He brushed his unruly hair out of his eyes, leaving a streak of wet sand across his forehead that he didn't seem to notice.

"Are you hungry?" he asked suddenly. "I'm starving. Building castles makes me super hungry."

As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly enough for her to hear. She giggled at the perfect timing.

"I have snacks," she offered, surprising herself with the willingness to share. "My mom packed too many."

"Really?" Mingyu's eyes widened hopefully. "I love snacks! All kinds!"

She stood up and made her way back to her family's spot, where her mother had laid out a colorful beach blanket under a large umbrella. "Can I have some snacks?" she asked. "For me and... my friend."

Her mother raised an eyebrow at the word "friend" but smiled warmly. "Of course, sweetheart." She opened a cooler bag and pulled out two juice boxes and a container of cut fruit. "Here you go. Why don't you invite your friend to sit in the shade for a while? You've been in the sun for quite a long time."

She nodded and carefully carried the snacks back to their castle, where Mingyu was adding a small collection of tiny shells to the entrance. He looked up when she approached, his face lighting up at the sight of the snacks.

"Wow! Thank you!" he exclaimed, accepting the juice box she held out to him. He struggled momentarily with the straw before finally managing to punch it through the foil hole, nearly squirting juice up his nose in the process. "Mmmmm," he hummed happily after taking a long drink.

She sat down carefully next to him, opening the container of watermelon, strawberries, and grapes. "We can share," she said, placing it between them.

Mingyu reached for a piece of watermelon, then paused, his hand hovering over the container. "My hands are sandy," he realized, looking down at his gritty palms.

"Mine too," she replied, showing him her own sand-covered hands.

They looked at each other for a moment before Mingyu burst into giggles. "We're too dirty for your mom's nice fruit!"

She found herself giggling along with him. "We need to wash our hands first."

"Race you to the water!" Mingyu declared, already scrambling to his feet.

"Wait!" she called, but he was already running toward the shoreline, arms flailing wildly as he went. With a small sigh and a shake of her head that belied the smile tugging at her lips, she followed at a more dignified pace.

At the water's edge, Mingyu splashed enthusiastically, sending droplets flying in all directions as he attempted to clean his hands. She approached more cautiously, dipping her hands into the cool water and rubbing them together carefully to remove all traces of sand.

"Look out for waves!" Mingyu warned, just as a slightly larger swell approached. The water surged around their ankles, and Mingyu lost his balance, sitting down hard in the shallow surf with a splash and a shocked expression that quickly turned to delight. "Come on in!" he called, now deliberately splashing water in her direction. "It feels amazing!"

She hesitated, naturally cautious and not dressed for swimming. But the cool water did look inviting after their time in the hot sun, and Mingyu's joy was somehow contagious. Carefully, she sat down at the water's edge, allowing the gentle waves to wash over her legs.

"Isn't it the best?" Mingyu asked, flopping onto his back so that the next small wave washed over his entire body except his face. He sat up sputtering and grinning. "The ocean gives the best hugs!"

"The ocean can't hug," she corrected automatically, but she had to admit the cool water felt wonderful against her sun-warmed skin.

"Sure it can!" Mingyu insisted. "It's hugging us right now!" He made an exaggerated hugging motion with his arms just as another wave rolled in, knocking him sideways.

She couldn't hold back her laughter at his antics. It seemed that everything Mingyu did was slightly exaggerated, slightly too big for his body to properly control, and yet there was something genuinely charming about his lack of self-consciousness.

After cooling off in the water, they returned to their castle to find Wonwoo standing guard beside it, arms crossed as he warned away a curious toddler who had wandered too close.

"Thanks for protecting it," she said to her brother, genuinely grateful.

Wonwoo nodded seriously. "No problem. It's a really good castle. Worth protecting."

Mingyu beamed at this praise from the older boy. "We made it together! She's the boss and I'm the helper and we make a great team!"

Wonwoo's mouth twitched in what might have been the beginning of a smile. "Looks like it," he agreed. He glanced at his watch. "Mom says we'll be leaving in about an hour, just so you know."

She nodded, accepting this information with her usual practicality. Beside her, Mingyu's face fell slightly at the reminder that their day at the beach – and their castle-building adventure – would eventually come to an end.

"We should finish the decorations," she suggested, noticing his sudden drop in enthusiasm. "So it's completely perfect before we have to go."

Mingyu immediately brightened. "Yes! And we need a flag! Every amazing castle needs a flag."

"We don't have a flag," she pointed out practically.

"I can make one!" Mingyu announced. He rummaged through their pile of collected items before looking around more widely. His face lit up as he spotted something in the distance. "Be right back!"

Before she could question him, he was off again, racing across the sand toward a small refreshment stand at the edge of the beach. She watched with curiosity as he appeared to be speaking animatedly with the vendor, his entire body involved in whatever he was explaining as his arms waved enthusiastically. A few moments later, he returned triumphantly, clutching a wooden popsicle stick and what appeared to be a napkin.

"See?" he proclaimed proudly. "The nice lady gave me these for free when I told her about our amazing castle!"

With careful concentration that belied his typically energetic movements, Mingyu folded the napkin into a rough triangle and secured it to the popsicle stick. He then gently pushed the makeshift flag into the highest tower of their castle.

"Perfect!" he declared, stepping back to admire the effect. "Now everyone will know this is the kingdom of Princess..." he paused, turning to her with a questioning look. "What's your name for the princess?"

She considered this for a moment. "The Science Princess," she decided firmly.

"Right! The kingdom of the Science Princess and Knight Mingyu!" he declared, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Of Helping and Adventures," she added, remembering his earlier title.

Mingyu looked at her with such joy and surprise that she couldn't help but smile back. The fact that she had remembered and valued his contribution seemed to mean the world to him.

"And protector Wonwoo," she added, glancing at her brother who was pretending not to listen from his position nearby.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes but couldn't quite hide his pleased expression.

As the afternoon wore on, Mingyu and she continued to add details to their castle and elaborate on the stories of its inhabitants. They worked with a synchronicity that belied their contrasting personalities – her methodical precision complementing Mingyu's creative enthusiasm. When Mingyu's attention occasionally wandered, she gently redirected him to the task at hand. When she became too focused on perfecting one small detail, Mingyu's spontaneity would move them forward to the next exciting addition.

"My mom says I have too much energy," Mingyu confided as they worked on the castle's outer wall. "My teacher says the same thing. She makes me sit on a special cushion that's supposed to help me wiggle less, but it doesn't really work." He demonstrated by wiggling his entire body, nearly knocking over a small turret in the process.

She considered this as she carefully smoothed a rampart. "My mom says I think too much," she replied. "And my teacher wants me to play more at recess instead of reading."

Mingyu beamed at her. "We could play together at recess! I could show you the best games, and you could tell me about your books!"

The offer was made with such genuine enthusiasm that she couldn't bring herself to point out that they had been in the same class all year without interacting. Instead, she nodded slightly. "Maybe," she allowed.

"We could build a castle in the sandbox!" Mingyu continued excitedly. "Not as good as this one, but still super cool! And we could get others to help, like Seungcheol and Jeonghan and Joshua!"

As if summoned by the mention of their names, three boys from their kindergarten class approached – Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua, three friends who were always together. They stopped several feet away, clearly admiring the castle but hesitant to come closer.

"Wow, Mingyu, did you build that?" Seungcheol asked, his eyes wide with admiration.

Mingyu sat up straighter, sand clinging to his knees and elbows. "Me and her built it together," he corrected, gesturing toward her. "She's really good at designing things."

The three boys looked at her with newfound respect. She was known in their class as the quiet girl who always finished her work first and rarely joined in group activities.

"Can we look at it closer?" Joshua asked politely.

Mingyu looked to her, deferring to her decision – another gesture that surprised her. Usually, other children simply did what they wanted without considering her wishes.

After a moment's consideration, she nodded. "You can look, but don't touch," she instructed firmly. "Some parts are still drying."

The boys approached carefully, circling the impressive structure with obvious admiration. "What's this part?" Jeonghan asked, pointing to a small depression in the central courtyard.

"That's the science garden," Mingyu explained importantly. "It's where the Science Princess grows special plants for her experiments. And over there," he pointed to another section, "is where Knight Mingyu trains the dragons to be gentle and helpful."

"There are dragons?" Seungcheol's eyes widened with excitement.

"Friendly ones," she clarified, surprising herself by joining the imaginative conversation. "They help protect the castle."

"That's so cool," Joshua breathed, clearly impressed.

What followed was an impromptu storytelling session, with Mingyu enthusiastically describing the castle's various inhabitants and their adventures, occasionally looking to her for confirmation or additional details. To everyone's surprise, including her own, she began to contribute more and more to the narrative, explaining how the science princess had developed special sand that couldn't be washed away by the tide and windows made of sea glass that could capture sunlight to power the castle.

The three boys listened with rapt attention, occasionally offering suggestions that Mingyu enthusiastically incorporated while she evaluated their logical consistency. Wonwoo, watching from his position nearby, couldn't quite believe what he was seeing – his introverted sister actively participating in imaginative play with a group of children.

In the distance, the parents continued their observation.

"Would you look at that," murmured the girl's mother in amazement. "She's actually playing with a group of children. Voluntarily."

"And Mingyu hasn't knocked anything over in at least twenty minutes," added his father with equal wonder. "That might be a new record."

"They seem to balance each other out," observed the girl's father thoughtfully. "He brings energy, she brings focus."

"Like little yin and yang," Mingyu's mother smiled. "It's adorable."

The parents watched as the children excitedly talked about their creation, gesturing and pointing to different parts of the elaborate sand structure.

"We should probably think about heading home soon," said the girl's mother, checking her watch. "It's getting late, and she'll need a bath to wash off all that sand."

"Same for Mingyu," agreed his mother. "Though I suspect he'll put up quite a fight. He seems to be having the time of his life."

The girl's father nodded. "Let's give them a few more minutes. It's not every day you see your child make a new friend."

Eventually, the three visitors were called away by their parents, leaving Mingyu and her once again alone with their creation. The sun was beginning to lower in the sky, casting longer shadows across the beach.

"My mom will probably say we have to go home soon," Mingyu said with a note of sadness, looking at their castle. "It's too bad we can't take it with us."

She nodded, feeling a similar sense of regret. In her logical mind, she had always known the castle was temporary – subject to the tide, the weather, other beachgoers. But after investing so much time and creativity into it, the inevitable loss felt more significant.

"We could take a picture," she suggested practically. "My brother has a camera on his phone."

Mingyu's face lit up. "That's a great idea! Then we'll always remember Castle Science-Dragon!"

"Is that what we're calling it?" she asked with a small smile.

"Unless you have a better name," Mingyu offered generously.

She thought for a moment. "Castle Science-Dragon works," she decided, appreciating the way it incorporated both their contributions.

At that moment, Wonwoo approached, having sensed the changing mood. "Mom says we need to start packing up soon," he informed his sister. He glanced at the castle, genuine admiration in his expression. "That turned out really impressive."

"Can you take a picture of it?" she asked, surprising her brother with the request. "Before we have to leave?"

Wonwoo smiled slightly. "Sure." He pulled out his phone and began framing the shot.

"Wait!" Mingyu exclaimed. "We should be in the picture too! With our castle!"

Wonwoo looked to his sister, expecting her to decline. She rarely wanted to be in photographs, generally preferring to observe from behind the camera rather than be captured in the moment.

To his surprise, she gave a small nod. "Okay," she agreed quietly.

Mingyu's face lit up with delight. "We should sit right behind it! Like we're the castle guards!"

She considered this for a moment before offering an alternative. "Maybe we could sit on either side? So people can still see the whole castle."

"That's even better!" Mingyu agreed enthusiastically. "You're so smart!"

She felt her cheeks warm at the compliment as they positioned themselves on opposite sides of their creation. Mingyu settled on the left, crossing his legs and placing his hands on his knees in an attempt to stay perfectly still—a nearly impossible feat for him. She knelt carefully on the right, smoothing her purple swimsuit and sitting with her natural poise.

"Say 'Castle Science-Dragon'!" Wonwoo instructed, holding up his phone.

"CASTLE SCIENCE-DRAGON!" Mingyu shouted with such enthusiasm that several nearby beachgoers turned to look. Meanwhile, she offered a small but genuine smile—the kind that rarely appeared in photographs.

Wonwoo took several pictures, making sure to capture the castle from different angles. "These look good," he said, showing them the results.

In the photos, their creation stood proudly between them—an impressive structure of towers, walls, and carefully placed decorations. But what struck Wonwoo most was the expression on his sister's face. She looked... happy. Relaxed in a way he rarely saw her around other children.

"Can I get a copy?" Mingyu asked eagerly. "I want to show my mom and dad!"

"I'm sure our parents can share it," she replied practically.

"Cool!" Mingyu beamed at her, sand still streaked across his forehead and cheeks. "This is the best day at the beach!"

From across the beach, both sets of parents began making their way toward the children, carrying beach bags and folded towels.

"Looks like it's time to go," Wonwoo observed, tucking his phone into his pocket.

Mingyu's smile faltered as he looked at their castle. "I wish we could stay with it forever."

She understood the feeling completely, but her practical nature prevailed. "The tide will come in anyway," she pointed out gently. "All sandcastles get washed away eventually."

Rather than being upset by this fact, Mingyu seemed to consider it thoughtfully. "Then we made the best castle it could be for today," he decided with surprising wisdom. "And now it gets to go on an ocean adventure!"

She hadn't thought of it that way. The idea of their creation being carried out to sea, becoming part of something larger rather than simply being destroyed, was strangely comforting. "Maybe the sand will reach another beach someday," she mused.

"And other kids might use it for their castles!" Mingyu added excitedly. "Our castle could become part of castles all over the world!"

She smiled at the thought as their parents arrived, exchanging knowing glances at the elaborate castle and the two children sitting proudly beside it.

"Time to pack up, sweetheart," her mother said gently. "Did you have fun today?"

She looked at the castle, then at Mingyu's sand-covered, beaming face. "Yes," she answered simply but sincerely.

"Mom! Dad! Look what we built!" Mingyu jumped to his feet, nearly tripping in his excitement as he grabbed his father's hand to pull him closer to the castle. "It's called Castle Science-Dragon and it has a princess who does experiments and friendly dragons and knights and a moat and everything!"

Mingyu's parents expressed appropriate amazement at the creation, asking questions that Mingyu answered with his characteristic enthusiasm while she occasionally corrected his more fantastical claims with quiet factual amendments.

As the adults looked on, Mingyu's mother turned to the girl's parents with a warm smile. "We should get together again soon. The children seem to get along well, and it's been nice chatting with you both today."

"Absolutely," her father agreed, glancing down at his daughter with pleased surprise. "We're just a few blocks away from each other. Maybe dinner this weekend?"

"Perfect," Mingyu's father nodded. "We can exchange information before we leave."

She listened to this adult conversation with careful attention, noting how the afternoon had produced not just her unexpected friendship with Mingyu, but connections between their parents as well. There was something satisfying about this symmetry.

As they began gathering their belongings, Mingyu suddenly stopped and looked at her with wide eyes. "Wait! I just realized we're going to be in the same class again after summer! We can sit together and build stuff during free time!"

"Maybe," she replied, which was as close to enthusiasm as she typically showed. Coming from her, it was practically a promise.

"I'll save you a spot at my table," he declared with absolute certainty. "It's by the window, so we can look outside when we're thinking up ideas."

She nodded, secretly pleased at the thought. She'd always wanted the window seat but had been too shy to claim it at the beginning of the year.

Before they parted ways, Mingyu took one last look at their castle. "Goodbye, Castle Science-Dragon! Have fun on your ocean adventure!"

Then, to her surprise, he gave her a quick wave that turned into an exaggerated bow. "Thank you for building with me today! You're the best castle architect ever!"

She felt her lips curve into a small smile. "You were a good helper," she acknowledged, which made his face light up as if she'd given him the highest praise imaginable.

"Ready to go?" her father asked gently, offering his hand.

She nodded, taking her father's hand while glancing back one last time at Castle Science-Dragon. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows from its towers across the sand, and the little napkin flag fluttered in the breeze.

As they walked to the car, Wonwoo bumped his shoulder lightly against hers. "So... Mingyu seems nice," he said casually.

"He's very loud," she replied. Then, after a thoughtful pause, she added, "But he's also very kind."

"And he listens to you," Wonwoo noted with slight surprise. "Most kids don't."

"He does," she agreed, this observation striking her as important somehow.

In the background, she could hear the adults exchanging phone numbers and making plans, their voices carrying the warm tones of new friendship. Her mother laughed at something Mingyu's father said, a genuine laugh she usually reserved for close friends.

As they drove home, the beach receding in the distance, she found herself thinking about the sand castle, about Mingyu, and about the unexpected connections formed during a single afternoon at the beach. Practical as always, she reached into her small beach bag and pulled out her notebook, carefully opening it to a fresh page.

"What are you writing?" Wonwoo asked, leaning over to see.

"Ideas," she replied simply, "for the next castle."

Her mother and father exchanged glances in the front seat, smiling at each other over their daughter's bent head. Like the little sandcastle on the beach, something new had been built today—something that might, with care and attention, last much longer than a summer afternoon.

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diamonddaze01 · 7 months ago

Note

hello tara it’s me

if you’re still taking prompts for your game could i maybe suggest 40 “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “You’re wearing two different shoes.” for our seokminnie?

kthnxbaiiiii

mismatched

pairing: seokmin x reader | wc: 1.0k prompt: “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “You’re wearing two different shoes.” a/n: BENNIE HELLO! i loved writing this and honestly it was just what i needed after work today lol

The day had been relentless. Emails piled up like bricks in a wall, each one heavier than the last. Deadlines loomed, impossible to meet, and the cherry on top was your client—someone who, apparently, had made it their life’s mission to leave you frazzled and questioning your career choices. By the time you got home, your shoulders ached, your head throbbed, and the walls of your apartment felt closer than ever, suffocating in their silence.

You didn’t mean to text Seokmin. At least, not like that. You had typed it out and hit send without overthinking it: "Today sucked. Can I call you later?" Short, vague, but enough to convey the weight pressing down on you.

Seokmin had always been good at sensing when you needed him. Maybe it was the years of friendship, the countless moments you’d spent together, teetering on the edge of something more but never quite diving in. Still, you hadn’t expected him to show up at your door less than twenty minutes later.

When the doorbell rang, you frowned, dragging yourself off the couch. You opened the door, and there he was, panting slightly as if he’d sprinted the whole way. His scarf hung lopsided around his neck, and his coat was barely on, one sleeve dangling at his side. His hair was tousled from the wind, and his cheeks were flushed a deep pink from the cold.

“Seokmin?” you asked, startled. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you okay?” he asked, skipping right past pleasantries. His wide, dark eyes were locked on yours, scanning your face like he could piece you back together just by looking.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re wearing two different shoes,” you added, pointing to his feet before he could answer.

He glanced down, and the realization hit him like a truck. His left foot wore a white Adidas sneaker with faint blue accents, while his right foot was clad in a scuffed brown leather boot.

“Oh,” he muttered, ears turning crimson. “I didn’t notice.”

“You didn’t notice?” Your voice wavered between disbelief and the beginnings of a laugh.

“I came as soon as I got your text!” he protested, lifting his hands in defense. The plastic bag he carried swung dangerously close to hitting him in the face. “You said you had a bad day, and I thought maybe—maybe you needed me, or something.”

His words settled in your chest, warm and grounding. Your lips twitched despite yourself, the first hint of a smile breaking through the exhaustion that had weighed you down all day.

“Seokmin,” you said, stepping aside, “you didn’t have to rush over.”

“I wanted to,” he said softly, ducking his head as he stepped inside. His mismatched shoes squeaked against the floor, a detail so absurd it made you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“What’s in the bag?” you asked, nodding toward the plastic he still clutched in his hand.

“Soup,” he said, holding it up like an offering. “And snacks.” He hesitated, then added sheepishly, “I panicked. I just grabbed the first things I thought might help.”

You couldn’t hold back the soft laugh that bubbled up. “Soup is a solid choice.”

He grinned at that, the kind of radiant smile that made your chest flutter no matter how many times you’d seen it. “See? I know what I’m doing.”

The two of you settled on the couch, and Seokmin insisted on heating up the soup despite your protests. You let him, partly because you didn’t have the energy to argue and partly because watching him move around your tiny kitchen—still wearing those mismatched shoes—was strangely comforting.

When he returned, he handed you the bowl with a dramatic flourish. “For the most amazing person I know,” he declared, settling beside you with his own bowl.

“Flattery won’t fix my day,” you said, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you, lifting into a smile.

“Maybe not,” he replied, “but it might help a little.”

And it did. As you ate, you told him about your day—the impossible client, the mountain of emails, the way your boss barely acknowledged your effort. Seokmin listened intently, nodding in all the right places and throwing in the occasional comment that made you laugh despite yourself.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said after a pause, his voice quieter now.

“Don’t start,” you said, though your cheeks warmed at the sincerity in his tone.

“I mean it.” He set his empty bowl aside and turned to face you fully, his gaze soft but unwavering. “You’re amazing, and I hate that you don’t see it.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. Before you could muster a response, he leaned in, brushing a soft, tentative kiss against your forehead.

Your breath hitched, and when he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, as if he was waiting for a sign that he hadn’t overstepped.

“Seokmin…”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just—I wanted to make you feel better. Did it work?”

A small laugh escaped you, unbidden and warm. “A little.”

“Just a little?” He pouted, leaning closer, and before you could respond, his lips brushed yours—soft, warm, and lingering. The kiss sent a jolt through you, scattering your thoughts and melting away the tension that had clung to you all day.

When he pulled back, his smile was smaller this time, less teasing but no less radiant. “How about now?”

You laughed again, this time from somewhere deep in your chest. “Okay, fine. It worked.”

“Good.” He leaned back against the couch, propping his mismatched shoes up on the coffee table with zero shame.

By the time the evening wound down, your bad day felt like a distant memory, replaced by the warmth of Seokmin’s presence. You glanced at him one last time before heading to bed, and for the first time in hours, you felt okay. Maybe even better than okay.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

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animeyanderelover · 9 months ago

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Chrollo and avatar!fem!reader, please 😭😭

Fun fact: I have never watched Avatar The Last Airbender before. I only watched some episodes during my childhood when the show aired on TV so do forgive me if I got something wrong.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, manipulation, stalking, blackmailing, isolation, abduction, murder, fem! s/o

Taglist: @jamayah @chxxz @leveyani @cynniical @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59

Avatar reader

📖The Avatar, the embodiment of peace and light. And you, chosen as the next reincarnation who will master all four elements to eventually surpass all other bender and bring with you balance and harmony. Yet when the world needed the Avatar the most, she disappeared. This is the tale passed down through generations, a tale reminiscent of the contents you would find inside a children's book. The world offers much that is still left to be discovered and every tale always has a grain of truth in it. It's through the words of a dying monk who used to be your teacher that Chrollo receives a taste of the fascination that will one day bring with it an obsession. Fickle candlelight symbolising the life about to extinct, half of his face dipped into darkness as apathetic eyes watch with a strange sense of curiosity the skinny man. Bedridden and blind yet with a soul far wiser than many people Chrollo has ever met, milky eyes unable to see yet still able to perceive the harbinger of chaos and death sitting right next to him in the last minutes of his life. Chrollo only slightly bemoans that he is not able to steal the Nen of the wise monk yet he leaves with a treasure much more precious in the end.

📖Fools have been chasing after legends and its promised treasures for millenia and perhaps from the outside it may appear as if Chrollo is faring no better yet he doesn't wish for the truth to be handed out to him on a silver plate. There is enjoyance he finds within the hunt, each little hint he discovers only adding to the anticipation. Other treasure, whilst satisfying him for brief moments, do not fulfill him. It is you who he desires most to find and to claim for you hold secrets and powers that he wishes to have for himself. Dedication and patience are virtues Chrollo practices each and every day as time passes in leaps, days turning into weeks and weeks into months. Until one day he finally finds what he has been seeking for such a long time. A short hint of melancholy is on his face as she strides over to the wall of ice you are frozen into, tiny needles of coldness stabbing into his skin as he lays his palm against the frozen material separating him from you. It's strange. Both of you have never met before yet finally seeing you feels almost like meeting an old friend he hasn't seen in years. If only you would know how long he has searched and waited for you.

📖Asleep for an entire century only to be thrown into a world who is in many aspects still the same yet simultanously so different. You are unprepared when you are woken up from the slumber you accidentally put yourself into, the only companion from old times still left being your flying bison. There are many unfamiliar faces that surround you as soon as you open your eyes and with no living peers left and awake in a world you fail to understand you find yourself attempting to befriend those new people with an underlying sense of desperation and loneliness. It's those emotions that Chrollo intends to use against you, luring you innocent butterfly in his spider's net to trap you and devour you. You're alone, you're scared and you're vulnerable even if you may hide it under your reckless and humorous facade. There is none of the wise intuition in you that your deceased teacher possessed which would have made everything more difficult for Chrollo. Animals have always had a keen intuition though so it is your flying bison that greatly distrusts him, sensing the demon's hands trying to touch it. Truly a shame for it is such a majestic creature. He wonders just what price he'd get for this species.

📖It is like watching a child discover the world around it, only that he is dealing with a grown adult. You have an adventurous and free spirit much like the wind, frequently taking detours much to the annoyance for some of the other members of the troupe. Chrollo asks them all for patience though for you are much too precious and interesting to be thrown away right away. Years he has searched for you so he does not intent to steal your abilities right away. No, he intends to get to know the real you and not the you in all the old books and stories that he has sought out over time. He's fascinated with your soul, so young and yet so old and the connection with your previous lives that slumber somewhere within you. So he allows your shenanigans for he needs to gain your full trust, listens intently whenever you're willing to share your stories from your childhood and your time spent with the monks who raised you and trained you. Hide it as much as you may, he spots that hint of guilt and sadness as the knowledge that all the people that you treasured have been dead for years is a weight heavy to carry. Your pain is the path he needs to get closer to you though so he wishes for you to dwell in your sorrow.

📖Your mindset is one that he is not able to understand and it only draws him closer to his nearing obsession. Raised by monks you were taught that all life is precious, a lesson he has never heard before. After all he grew up in Meteor City where humans were equal to trash. To be abandoned, neglected and forever forgotten about. Yet here you are, telling him that all life is equally worth? It is amusing yet Chrollo knows that reality is rarely as pretty as the ideals you believe in. A part of him wishes to drag you down that corrupted path, to destroy your beliefs and see your conviction shatter under the weight of reality. Another part of him almost wishes to shelter such purity so you may always remain naive and believe in your lessons passed down by your teachers. Such power as you possess is truly not fit for one unwilling to yield it. There is no conflict won through words and hopes as corruption and violence will always follow. Chrollo has observed humans long enough to realise that only few are as foolish as you are. The foolish ones are usually always the first ones to die as they are the ones who are trampled on, nothing more as a stepping stones for others.

📖He's been the hand holding you and guiding you ever since you awoke from your sleep and now this very hand is unwilling to let go, clutching tightly to you as it drags you with it. You will not leave his side. Years he has invested and dedicated to find you and now that Chrollo finally has you he finds himself unable to get rid of you. You are the missing piece of his puzzle, the air he needs to breathe, the fire that warms him, the water that sustains his life, the earth that stabilises him. It is no longer a want but a need that is now driving him. He needs you with him. Now. Tomorrow. Forever. Whilst he is no fervent believer in God or the holy faith even Chrollo can't deny how truly ironic it is that the person who is the answer to so many of his questions was frozen in time only for him to find her. Actions need to be made fast for you progress much too fast with your bending abilities. Whilst you lack experience still and haven't yet mastered your entire powers Chrollo does not wish to risk a confrontation with you though he knows that you could never harm him or any of the other members. After all the Phantom Troupe are the first friends you made after being freed from the ice you were kept in.

📖Haven't you always been secretly burdened by the fate chosen for you without you ever having been able to decide for yourself? Haven't you always secretly wished to be normal like everyone else? You've shared your insecurities and wishes with Chrollo, revealed bits of your heart to him which he greedily clutches to his own empty chest as every secret of yours fulfills him a bit more. You've shared your pain and your guilt with him and now he offers you to free you from all those chains tying you up. His Nen ability should be able to remove the Avatar spirit from you. He can give you the freedom you have always wished for secretly. To your own lament you recognise his true colours much too late, your heart weeping as you see the Phantom Troupe in their full capabilities. The kindness they have shown you and the love that Chrollo has fed you with have all been real yet were only parts of their true selves you find yourself now confronted with. You see them as no monsters though as most people would deem them, your eyes instead only seeing lost souls who have wandered on the wrong path. You wish to save them somehow yet deep down you know that they have all already chosen their paths.

📖Only then does Chrollo reveal his true self to you, a merciless and apathetic man who sees humans no different to puppets. You will not escape him. Not now after he has finally found the heart he has been missing all along in you. He blackmails you, tugs at your heartstrings as he knows how deeply you care for him and his troupe yet he also frightens you as he threatens to involve innocent people and even dares to threaten Appa, your treasured friend. He truly doesn't wish to fight you and he already knows that you are no fighter yourself, prefering a pacifistic solution. Even if you should narrowly escape the net of the spider though as you flee with Appa know that you will never be truly free. Chrollo will hunt you down, follow every trace of you and burn down entire cities until he has you once more. You can run but you can't hide forever. Not from him. Even if he shouldn't find you in this life he is willing to step into truly forbidden territory. If the soul of the first Avatar has been able to be reincarnated then there is a chance that he might be able to reincarnate his soul with yours as well. Little spider, he will chase after you even after death, his soul always chasing after yours.

#yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere x reader #hunter x hunter x reader #hxh x reader #chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer x reader

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strawbeerossi · 2 years ago

Text

Tiny Dancer

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After Spencer meets you while you are on an undercover mission, it isn’t long until you two get to know each other. After your first date together, you give him a few lessons.

Content/Warnings: Awkward Spencer, strip club, minor case matter, lap dancing, cumming in pants.

Word Count: 2.8K

Kinktober Day Nineteen: Lingerie

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

This is my least favorite fic. I apologize in advance.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Emily asked, gazing at the front of the strip club where Aaron was smoothening out his suit jacket and glancing at her and Spence.. “One million percent. Don’t get too distracted here. I have a friend who is in sex crimes working undercover to catch someone who is taking advantage of strippers and call girls. She agreed to meet us but you have to be prepared for the way she’s going to talk to us. It’s not going to be a traditional interview.”

The two agents looked between each other in confusion. What did he mean by that? Regardless, they both walked inside the not too busy club. This was a more upscale place, one of the strip clubs that kept the high paying men of the city anonymous, able to enjoy the likes of a the establishment without someone going back and telling wives, girlfriends, or employers. The safety due to the membership only status worked out in their favor, only having to flash their badges and mentioning they needed to scope out the place before they were let inside.

Once in the dimly lit building, Aaron’s gaze was scanning the room before his eyes landed just on the undercover agent they were looking for. You had gotten the hint he was here to see you, so you were moving away from the man you were currently talking to before twirling your hair around your finger. “Hi sweetheart. Looking for a dance today?” You asked sweetly, glancing back at the other agents who were waiting as well.

“Yes. My friends and I woulda actually like to ask for a private dance. Is that something we could do?” Your gaze lingered on one particular agent; Spencer Reid. He was a living legend around the FBI due to his intellect, of course you’d heard about him around the office. “I charge extra for groups.” You added soon after, which you were leading the three agents back to the safety of the private room while you closed the door. “I really wish you would text me before you do something like this.” You scolded Aaron while holding a hand out to take the money he was getting out of his wallet. The cameras in the room made it hard to have a normal conversation, you having to play along to the private dance fantasy.

After pushing the bills into the babydoll lingerie top, you were going to the pole in the middle of the room. “I know. However this is an emergency that I didn’t plan for. One of our victims worked here. Her name was Amanda Raymond. What can you tell us about her?” Aaron stated as if there wasn’t a half naked woman in the room that had Spencer’s face bright red and Emily practically drooling at the sight.

“Mandy?” You asked, smile faltering hearing about how your missing friend was in fact dead. “She was a sweet girl. I mean, she worked damn near every night to support her son.” Your leg hooked around the pole as you did a spin around it, ultimately moving away. “She hasn’t left with anyone that I know of. I mean she had some sketchy regulars but I can get you their information,” You shrugged, moving to straddle Emily’s lap while laughing at her reaction. “Prentiss, stay focused.” You’d teased, smiling as you could feel her soft hands against your hips as she cleared her throat.

“Right, sorry. Anyone in particular that you have both serviced?” She asked, unable to help her gaze over your exposed body. How was she gonna look you in the eye around the office after this?!

“There’s Michael Lewis. He’s actually a deputy on the police force. He’s really violent. He’s left bruises on my arms and hips before whenever security couldn’t get here fast enough.” You’d answered, thinking it over. “And Trevor Brown, a college professor who likes to try and take every dancer home,” You responded, laughing a bit as the raven haired woman was pushing a twenty in your lingerie top before you were moving to Spencer.

He looked like he was gonna pass out the minute you were bending down in front of him, continuing on with your dance routine as you let your hips play with some rock song playing over the speakers of the private room. “Y-you-“ Spencer was bright red, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he clutched the arm of the leather sofa. The outfit left very little to the imagination. “I’m sorry.” He squeaked while his eyes were diverting their gaze from your ass perched in his face. “You said that they’ve t-touched you, I can assume it was insitent?” Spencer asked, his own hands itching to touch your soft skin. “Yeah. They weren’t very kind and they were pushy. I’m sure you’ve seen the type on the field. I’m just sure they don’t grab you the way they’ve grabbed me.”

You turned to face Spencer again as your arms loosely draped around his shoulder, your tantalizing hips having Spencer drunk in the moment. The genius would think you were doing this on purpose, almost as if you enjoyed the act of teasing him and rendering him speechless. He had to admit that he was definitely a fan. He just wished his boss and coworker wasn’t with him, this interview would’ve gone just a tad different. “I can give you their information. I’ve had them leave their numbers and some business cards as if I would ever talk to them outside of this job.” You added, your dance coming to an end anyway as you were heading to a stack of cards and such.

The girls had gotten used to tossing any kind of numbers or other things on one of the tables in the room. Sifting through the numbers, you were smiling whenever you came across the two cards. “I really do think they should be watched closely.” You spoke while handing a card to Aaron. Now you were going to tease Spencer more, putting the card between your teeth before heading over to bend in front of him once more, leaning in close so he could retrieve the card.

Due to his germaphobia, he definitely wasn’t taking into his mouth, however he slowly took the car as his honey colored eyes were overshadowed by lust and embarrassment from seeing how much of an effect you had on him. “You three get out of here safely. Don’t call too much attention to yourselves. I’m not saying there is anyone here who could hurt you at the moment but.. Feds around here would terrify the mass amounts of customers who are trying to stay on the downlow.”

The three agents were getting up from the couch as they had gotten all the intel they needed. “Alright. You three keep your heads down.” You spoke while walking them over to open the door. There were a few moments where Spencer was stopped, his gaze on you. “Got a business card you wanna add to our table?” You couldn’t help but tease him, a smirk on your face. “What if I uh..” He was awkwardly reaching in his pocket, getting out a card with his number in it before he caught you off guard, slipping the card into your cleavage. The bold move was overshadowed by his embarrassed little blush, a shaky laugh leaving his lips. “Please don’t put it on the table. I’d rather have you contact me directly.” He said softly, only glancing back when he could hear Emily calling his name. “We gotta go but.. Call me?”

“You got it, Dr. Reid. Go save some lives.” You grinned, waving him off as you were walking out of the private room again to get right back to your post.

After that, the BAU did what they did best. They caught the man on a murderous rampage against sex workers, his view of them as being dirty and deserving the release of death to forgive them of their sins. Which you never understood but hey, you weren’t a psychopath so it made sense why you didn’t understand.

You’d been texting Spencer throughout the week, mostly just small talk while his awkwardness and shyness translated to messages as well. You found it endearing. He was a charming man who did have a small confidence issue but you were happy to tell him just how attractive he was and help the best you can to boost that confidence without making his ego inflating too much. You’d both agreed to meet up for coffee on a Sunday morning, the both of you meeting at a small cafe in DC.

“I’m glad you came. I was nervous you wouldn’t.” Spencer admitted as you were sitting at one of the outdoor tables with him, a smile on your face as you sipped from the cup in your hand. “Why wouldn’t I come? I’ve liked talking to you! It’s been an honor to get to know you, honestly. I mean, you’re very well known around the FBI as a whole so actually meeting you is nice rather than just hearing about you.”

The words had him blushing, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I’m just not used to asking anyone out. Which I mean, if you don’t want this to be considered that I understand.” He spoke while you were letting one hand gently pat his hand resting against the table.

“Well. You did a great job asking me! I also have to say that I don’t want this to end early. How about we go back to my apartment? I know how much you love Doctor Who and I have the whole classic series! I like the earliest seasons but I am willing to watch what you want.” You added with a smile, Spencer not daring to turn it down as you were pushing themselves to stand. Thankfully, the walk to your apartment wasn’t too long considering you lived only a couple blocks away from the cafe. After leading Spencer upstairs and unlocking the wooden door, he broke the threshold and headed inside right behind you, his hand moving to gently close the door behind you both. “You have a really nice place.” He’d commented.

It smelled like vanilla, the atmosphere being welcoming and so inviting that he had no problem towing off his shoes at the doorway before making himself comfortable as you were going for the case that held all the classic films and shows you had taken a liking to. “Here we go. Should we start with season one?” You asked, although you both didn’t share any confirmation as you were popping the disk in. After getting the remote, you were hurrying to leap onto the couch beside Spencer, the both of you laughing as you were crossing your legs to get comfortable.

The binge-watching had gone pretty standard, your body leaning comfortably against Spencer’s while your cheek was against his shoulder, his arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders. Despite his dislike for most human contact, he had to admit that he liked sitting like this with you. It helped that your body was warm against his. The contact was oddly intimate — At least to Spencer.

It was well established in the past that this guy doesn’t know how to go slow. So as you were so engrossed in the first season of your show, he was too busy thinking of the future opportunities of you both sitting on the couch like this and enjoying each other’s presence. “Can I ask you a question?” His voice finally spoke up as he glanced at you, your head lifting from his shoulder. “Yeah. Go ahead!” You offered a smile. “How long have you been doing undercover work at the uh.. You know.” He asked, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Well. I was just assigned to do it. I took pole dancing classes in college with a few friends. It’s actually a really good workout and I enjoy doing it. I just wish it wasn’t in front of a crowd.”

You answered honestly. It wasn’t something that you ever pictured yourself doing, however you were happy to catch sick fuckers that occupied the place. “Wait. They have classes?” The male asked, the hobby piquing his intrigue in the subject. “Yes! Why, want me to give you a lesson?” You joked while offering a smile. “I can teach you how to do a lap dance. I’ve already given you one so I don’t think it’ll be awkward. Right?”

Hell no it would not.

“I don’t- I don’t think so!” His voice squeaked as you were moving to stand with a smile. “Perfect! Don’t worry, you can touch me this time. No need to be freaked out.” You teased, hand retrieving the tv remote to get the screen turned off. You had moved to playfully toss your hair around, acting as if you had to gussy yourself up for the part. “Let me put on a costume. I feel like I need to do this perfectly.”

Which you disappeared for ten minutes, finding a silk purple negligee with lace stockings. You may have been overembellishing just a tad, however you wouldn’t mind Spencer putting his hands on you in any way he chose. Whenever you were coming back to the living room, your hands were on your hips as you sauntered to the couch. When the male’s eyes fell on you, he felt the wind get knocked out of him. This wasn’t at all what he was expecting. “What do you think?” You asked, doing a turn while grinning. “I was gonna put on some heels but I felt like that would be overkill.”

“I think you look stunning.”

“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, Dr. Reid.” You smirked, hand retrieving your phone as you were searching for a suitable song for the occasion.

As you’d landed on an old school rock song, it wasn’t long until you were dragging your hands up your body, watching as the agent in front of you was giving you his full divided attention. As you walked around the couch, your hands were sliding down his chest from behind him. The mere touch had his cock springing to life in his pants, especially when you ran them up his chest and rested a hand under his chin before making his head tilt up to look at you.

After lingering contact and leaning down to press a kiss to his left cheek, you were walking back in front of him again while bending. Your hands were against his knees while you lowered yourself, the angle making your cleavage nearly spill from the silky top of the ensemble and catching his attention. As your touch dragged up his thighs, you couldn’t help but grin at the way his body reacted to the touch. It was like he was so desperate to be touched and he hadn’t had any sort of intimacy like this in a while. Your hands squeezed his inner thighs before you were straddling his lap.

With your hands against his shoulders, you were humming along with the music as your hips rolled down into Spencer’s, the friction against his clothed cock being heavenly. His large hands were quickly moving to your hips, his mouth agape as he watched the intoxicating movements of your hips.

He could remember being jealous of Emily when they talked to you, the way you put on a show for her and gave Spencer hardly anything. This was a hell of a way to make it up to him though. While your hips gyrated against his lap, he was letting his head tilt back against the sofa while letting out a gentle whine. Your movements were overwhelming, hips rocking to stimulate riding his cock so good that it could nearly be considered the real thing.

By the end of the song though, Spencer could feel arousal building up in the pit of his stomach. His heart was beating fast, face red as a thin layer of sweat was collecting on his forehead from how hot he felt in these fucking clothes. What happened next was out of his control, the friction of your hips rubbing him just right as his hands squeezed your hips, a whine of your name slipping out before he could feel his cock twitch in his underwear. The arousal snuck up on him, unable to hold back as he soiled his underwear with cum. You knew all too well what had happened, your hips slowing down as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Did you just..” You began, blushing as the male was quickly looking away in embarrassment. “I’m sorry! I can’t- I didn’t mean-“ Your hand was what cut him off as it rested gently over his mouth. “You don’t have to apologize.” You said softly while laughing some. “I’m flattered! But I think that we should probably get you cleaned up, don’t you think?”

Spencer didn’t catch on at first, not until your hands were on the button or his slacks. “Y-yeah.” He spoke shyly, lifting his lips in order to help you tug the bottoms down his legs.

“Good boy.”

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ninii-winchester · 10 months ago

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Behind Closed Doors (Part 4)

Pairing : Boss!Dean Winchester X Assistant!Reader

Word count : 1.2k

Warnings: a lot of angst, reader says demeaning things about herself, language, not proofread.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

“It’s alright I’m his fiancée.” Y/n really wanted to scoff at the woman’s claim but then her gaze fell to the woman’s left hand. Her ring finger was adorned with a ring, a single sapphire gleamed at the center, encased by tiny diamonds. That was the kind of ring she’d seen in Mrs. Winchester’s finger. That was same kind of ring that she’s seen in Sam’s fiancée, Jess’ finger on multiple occasions. It was the Winchester family’s traditional heirloom, passed down through generations, a symbol of their legacy. She then looked at her own and realised that any one would believe this woman over her, if she ever claimed to be Dean’s fiancée. Y/n felt a lump forming in her throat but she took a deep breath and cleared her throat before speaking,

“I understand, however I can’t let you go in without permission, it’ll risk my job.” She forced a smile. “I’ll let him know you’re here.” She added gesturing to the door and to her relief the woman nodded in agreement.

Y/n knocked on the door while the woman sat on the waiting couch, Dean’s voice was heard from behind the door as he gave permission to enter. She went inside the room and Dean looked delighted to see her, but his smile faltered when he noticed her expression.

“Mr Winchester, there’s someone waiting for you outside but she doesn’t have an appointment. Shall I send her in?” She said monotonously and he furrowed his brow.

“Who is it?” Dean asked curiously.

“Your fiancée.” She said calmly and his eyes widened in surprise. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times unable to form a coherent reply. He understood the look on her face when she first entered the room. When he didn’t reply for a few minutes she added, “I’ll send her in.” With that, she left.

Dean was quick on his feet and followed her out the room and his gaze landed on the woman sitting on the couch. The woman stood up and swiftly made her way towards him.

“Dean!!” She exclaimed happily throwing her arms around his neck.

“Rachel? What are you doing here?” He asked and Y/n watched the scene unfold in front of her eyes. So he did know her. She wanted to look away from them but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the couple and she desperately wished she did when she saw Rachel peck his lips. She grimaced before turning back to the computer screen holding back the tears that were threatening to spill.

"I thought we could get lunch together," she said, her voice soft with a hint of hope.

“I’m busy!” Dean replied tersely. He didn’t want to have lunch with her, he wanted her to leave as soon as possible so he could explain to Y/n. So he could gather her in his arms and tell her she’s the only one and this a misunderstanding.

“Some other time?” Rachel asked and Dean nodded not wanting to create a scene. He was expecting her to throw a fit and demand his attention but he was surprised that she agreed so easily. Rachel turned to leave but then she stopped at Y/n’s desk, “Oh, you’re engaged too?” She said to Y/n excitedly pointing to her ring her. “Congratulations.” She smiled.

“Oh this?” Y/n replied showing her hand to her, “I’m not engaged.” She said softly and Rachel’s face turned to one of confusion. “I deal with businessmen on a daily basis and rich men think they can make me their mistress because I’m just a secretary. So this keeps them away.” She explained, glancing at Dean who was seething beside Rachel. Hah take that Winchester.

“That’s so inappropriate and just unacceptable. Dean, You shouldn’t do business with such people.” Rachel told Dean and he nodded, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. “I’ll get going but—” She looked at name plate on her desk, “Y/n, don’t hesitate to tell Dean if anyone does it again.”

“I won’t. Thank you.” She smiled at the redhead. Y/n wished this woman was a cunning bitch, it would’ve been easy to hate her. But at this moment this moment the only person she hates is someone she swore to Love for the rest of her life. Rachel reciprocated the gesture and kissed Dean on the cheek before taking her leave.

“Inside. Now.” Dean growled at Y/n and turned on his heels to go back to his office. Y/n rolled her eyes before following him inside. She watched him pace back and forth, his jaw clenched. “What the fuck was that?” He asked in a dangerously low tone.

“She’s beautiful. Perfectly matches with you.” Y/n commented.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you behaving like this?” Dean snapped.

“I’ve never been a mistress before. I don’t know how they act.” She replied crossing her arms and Dean was sure he’d have steam coming out of his ears. He was fuming. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.

“Call yourself that one more time and I’m not sure what I’ll do.” He challenged making her scoff.

“Drop the act Dean. I can’t believe you went this far to keep the ruse.” She said gesturing to the ring on her finger. She went to remove it from her finger but he pulled her hand away.

“Don’t you dare.” Dean growled. “She’s not my fiancée, you are.” He yelled not caring if anyone heard.

“Really? And who knows that except you and me?” She asked rhetorically and Dean didn’t have an answer because she was right. “One look at the ring on her finger and anyone could tell she’s a Winchester woman.” She exclaimed.

“That’s.. it’s complicated.” Dean looked away breathing heavily. He didn’t want her to find out this way. He had hoped to handle the mess before she found out, but here he was now, in an even deeper disaster. She glared at him and moved past him to leave but he stopped her. “Baby please don’t do this.” He said softly.

“You have a meeting in five, Mr. Winchester.” Was all she said before she left.

Y/n beelined towards the women’s room and broke down finally. She leaned against the sink, her reflection distorted by the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her usually immaculate appearance was in disarray; her blouse was wrinkled, and her carefully styled hair was now a tangled mess. Her eyes, red and swollen, stared vacantly at the mirror as if trying to make sense of the shattered image before her.

Her breath hitched as she tried to steady herself. She clenched and unclenched her fists, the sharp edge of her engagement ring digging into her palm, a small distraction from the overwhelming hurt, but a stinging reminder at the same time. She quickly removed it from her hand and pocketed the ring. She really wanted to flush it down the toilet but it was expensive and she wanted to return it to Dean. She’d decided that she’d only talk to him if he comes clean about the situation or it’s the end of whatever they had.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkess @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

@10ava01

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isaacarellanesismyhusband · 10 months ago

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day 9: care of magical creatures mishap

pair: Newt Scamander x reader

summary: he’d be the perfect one to save y/n(she/her) from a creature gone wild

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The autumn sun bathed the Hogwarts grounds in a warm, golden light as you and your classmates gathered around Hagrid’s pen for your Care of Magical Creatures class. You stood beside Newt Scamander, who was, as usual, excitedly chattering about the day's lesson.

“We’re working with Bowtruckles today,” Newt whispered to you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "They're quite harmless if you know how to handle them."

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Harmless for you, maybe,” you teased. “I’m not exactly a magical creature expert.”

Newt gave you a soft smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you,” he promised. His voice was gentle, reassuring, and you felt a little more confident with him by your side.

Hagrid introduced the lesson, and soon enough, you were all reaching into a tangle of branches to find your own Bowtruckle. Everything was going fine—until it wasn’t.

Your Bowtruckle, a feisty little creature with sharp claws and a bad temper, decided it didn’t like you very much. With a tiny screech, it darted up your arm and wrapped its spindly fingers around your hair, tugging at it with surprising strength.

“Ah—Newt!” you yelped, freezing in place as the Bowtruckle snarled from the top of your head.

Newt was by your side in an instant, his face filled with both concern and a hint of amusement. “Stay still,” he said softly, his voice calm despite the situation. “It’s just a bit nervous.”

You stood as still as possible, your heart racing as Newt approached, carefully reaching up to coax the Bowtruckle away. His gentle fingers brushed against your hair, sending a soft shiver down your spine.

“Come on, little one,” he murmured to the creature, his tone affectionate. “She didn’t mean to scare you.”

The Bowtruckle hesitated for a moment but seemed to respond to Newt’s soothing voice. It slowly loosened its grip on your hair and crawled onto his hand, still glaring at you but now much calmer.

“There we go,” Newt said with a smile, cradling the creature in his palm. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with warmth. “No harm done.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “Thanks, Newt,” you said, smiling gratefully. “I think I’ll leave the magical creatures handling to you from now on.”

Newt chuckled, the sound light and melodic. “You did just fine,” he said, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly as he added, “Besides, I like helping you.”

You felt your own cheeks heat up at his words, but you managed to laugh it off. “Well, I’m glad you were here to save me.”

Newt glanced down at the Bowtruckle, which was now resting contentedly in his hand. “He just needs to be handled with a bit of care. They’re very protective of their homes, you know.”

You watched as he gently placed the Bowtruckle back into the branches, his touch so delicate and kind. It was impossible not to admire the way he connected with creatures, magical and otherwise.

As the lesson came to an end and the class began to pack up, Newt lingered by your side. “If you ever want extra help with the creatures,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours, “I’d be happy to teach you more.”

The offer made your heart flutter, and you smiled, feeling a warmth settle in your chest. “I’d like that,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “As long as they’re not all as temperamental as that Bowtruckle.”

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urdepressedslut · 2 years ago

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Love Me to Death

✧ Pairing — Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Siren!Fem!Reader

✧ Summary — The Avengers compound receives a new recruit. She’s a siren who can make anyone fall deathly in love with her with one word. Bucky immediately takes interest in her as he discovers she’s mute, for good reason of course.

✧ Warnings — light angst, hints to past trauma, mentions of bucky’s trauma, hints to PTSD, hints of anxiety

series masterlist ✧ inbox open

You would never get over the view of the Atlantic Ocean. The way you found yourself getting lost as your eyes focused further and further into the distance. The way the earth curved, the way it appeared the ocean just dropped off. Nobody could ever know what went on out there, what happened when there were no wandering eyes. The secrets that the water held, the dark beauty that painted the waters.

Of course, this wasn’t a goodbye forever— just for a while. You couldn't help the pain that formed in your chest, the way your eyes watered at the last view glimpses of your home.

"You about ready to go (Y/n)?" Fury asked from the sand below.

You turned your head towards him, not missing the quick flash of guilt that passed through his expression. You turned back towards the water, taking one last deep breath in— the crisp air filling your lungs.

"If everything works out the way it should— you'll be back here soon." He reminded you, and you knew that was an estimation.

It was the best outcome that you'd return— but the chances were slim. Considering everything, this might as well be the last time you'll ever set foot on this rock, looking at this view that you'd grown to love so much.

You stepped down from the rock, standing next to Fury with a solemn look. You shook your head and avoided his eyes, you couldn't seem to come up with a good answer— so you shoved your way of communicating in your pockets. Plus, you didn't feel like signing a bullshit response— you were upset and you had the right to be.

"Remember I'm not the bad guy here, and neither are you. This is just how things need to be for a while." He reminded you, trying his best to make this feel less forced.

You gave in and signed the only thing you could come up with for now.

I know. You signed before you shoved your hand back in your pocket.

He gave a tiny smile, one that didn't seem genuine but you didn't seem to care too much.

“I don’t know why I have to be here.” Bucky grumbled, running a hand through his hair in stress.

Natasha rolled her eyes, giving Sam a smack on the head to wake him up. He was falling asleep on the couch when it wasn’t the time.

“Rude! I was sleeping.” Sam complained.

“Don’t care— and Buck you need to be here. We are receiving a new recruit.” She explained.

Bucky let out a sigh, shrugging his shoulders— wondering why Nat. thought he cared.

“We always receive new recruits. What’s so different about this one?” He wondered, earning a stare from the redhead before she replied.

Her features grew serious, all kicking and joking stripped from her face.

“This one is enhanced… and deadly.”

His eyes widened and all at once he understood his place now. He was here when things went wrong— the expendable one. Although it made his jaw clench, slight anger running through his veins— he nodded in understanding otherwise.

Natasha seemed to read him without him having to utter another word, she immediately backtracked.

“God, it’s like I can hear you thinking— you’re here because you’re part of the team. Everyone, including you is meeting her.” She corrected, watching his features soften slightly.

“How do you do that?” He asked, squinting his eyes in defense.

She was always able to read his mind, hell— everyone’s!

She laughed, shrugging her shoulder— avoiding to answer his question to mess with him.

“She’s a woman, of course she can read your thoughts. They all can.” Sam added from the couch, trying to drift back to sleep.

Natasha threw a pillow at Sam’s face, taking him by surprise.

“Oh shut it Wilson.” She mumbled, with a roll of her eyes.

“Ow! Why’re you so violent today?” He asked, sitting up and walking towards the bookshelf in the living room.

Natasha smiled to herself, taking his words more as a compliment than an insult.

“Everyone else will be here soon, but seriously— I know you know what it’s like to feel like an outsider when you first showed up here. I want you to help her out, okay?” The redhead asked, earning a scowl from him.

“Why me? Everyone at some point has had to feel like that too— c’mon Nat! I was just starting to settle down here, almost have a little routine for myself. How do you know she won’t be afraid of me— I’m sure she’ll know who I am.” He rambled on, complaint after complaint.

The redhead rubbed a hand down her face.

“I’m not asking you to marry her— just help her out, while she’s settles in.” She told him.

He sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get out of this. He nodded, but kept a scowl on his face. This was not how he expected the day to go.

Soon enough, Fury was walking a surprisingly pretty woman into the room where all the Avengers either stood or sat waiting.

It wasn’t supposed to be a dig, Bucky only assumed she’d be less… pretty— with the way Natasha had described her. Deadly. He was expecting a more disturbed, haunting character— not this beautiful face.

“I’m sure all of you have heard whispers here and there— so this isn’t entirely new to any of you. Well… maybe some of you.” Fury mumbled, looking in Sam’s direction. “You are receiving a new member. She will be an amazing addition to the team— powerful and will help keep you all alive.”

Everyone said hello, waving and sending warm smiles her way— Bucky could only imagine the nerves of this woman with all the staring.

She seemed to be holding up quite well, in fact— she seemed glum. Her face was sagging with defeat every so slightly— enough for Bucky to notice of course. He immediately felt drawn to her distress, wanting to know the cause of it.

“Now, as all of you noticed. She doesn’t speak, and will not speak unless she is to do so. Meaning while in a mission, or any other situation where one of you are in danger.” Fury explained.

Bucky couldn’t help the frown that formed in his face. It felt wrong to listen to Fury talk about her like she was an object and nothing more— just a weapon at their hands. He felt uncomfortable, and almost like a flash in his quick blinks— he suddenly remembered the same feeling back at HYDRA. All of a sudden— it was personal.

“Can I ask why she can’t speak?” Natasha wondered, voicing what most of us were thinking.”

It felt weird to talk about her like she wasn’t standing right in front of us— but she didn’t seem bothered by it. Guess you wouldn’t be bothered either, after years of someone speaking for you.

There was that uncomfortable feeling again.

“Yes, that was the next thing I wanted to discuss.” Fury started, letting the woman take a seat beside him. “(Y/n) is a Siren. One peep from her and you all would fall under a spell. A love spell, you could say.”

Everyone went silent, taking in the new information. Nobody knew how to react— as nobody had experience with a Siren before. In fact— mostly everyone assumed Siren’s were a myth.

“So… what? (Y/n) talks and we all go in a trance? How do you get out of it?” Scott asked from the back row.

Fury shook his head, sneaking a glance at (Y/n) before speaking.

“You don’t. You stay trapped in the trance until death.” Fury finished.

Everyone’s mouth went into O’s, silence taking over the room yet again. Half of the group were intimidated— while the other half which contained the stronger Avengers, such as Thor and Wanda— they were impressed.

“A love spell that kills you? Wow.” Natasha muttered to herself, having never heard of something like this before.

(Y/n) surprised everyone when she started signing something in her seat, a shameful expression on her face as she did so.

“What did she just say?” Sam asked, looking at both Bucky and Nat.

Bucky and Natasha shared a look with each other, looking back a you before revealing to the rest of the group.

“She said, you’ll love me to death.” Natasha told them.

Everyone grew rigid at that sentence. The sinister way the endearing saying went from sweet to dark. Even Wanda and Thor gulped, swallowing in fear. (Y/n) was new too, nobody knew if they could trust her yet. Even with the approval from Fury— everyone felt a little on edge.

Meanwhile, Bucky gazed at her with a new fascination. Something in him pushed him towards her— something inside him wanted to know everything about her.

He wondered why.

A/N: this seems short and i’m sorry if it feels rushed, but i just wanted to get this out there. has been sitting in my drafts for awhile. hasn’t been proof read 👀

TAGLIST: @billy-reads @potatothots @buckyb-stan @kmc1989 @silverfire13 @ghostofwinter @hanihoney88 @stilesofhannah @skittle479 @marvelogic @meetmeatyourworst @engie115 @wilsons-striped-ties @x209x @kandis-mom @l0kilaufeys0n7

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devixxish · 2 years ago

Text

Pairing: Choso Kamo x AFAB! Reader

Word Count: 2357 | 25 paragraphs

18+ MDNI. NOT proof read, smut, inked & pierced Choso, pining, tiny bit of tattooing, Choso kinda flirts? ig, groping, two consent checks, slight begging, cunnilingus, fingering, dom! Choso, pussydrunk! Choso. again probably more? idk

A/N: it's like 5AM and I'm tired asf 😭 I deleted the whole thing and started rewriting it like 12 hours ago. tbh I just kept writing and writing,i had once again too many ideas and got overwhelmed:') Also, is it obvious I suck at writing dialogue? ANYWAY, the ending is hella rushed and ugly tbh, but I still hope you enjoy! Divider by @benkeibear ♡

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ A guy looking both intimidating and sweet simultaneously as you watch him from afar while waiting for your scheduled appointment. Skin adorned with black ink, running from his fingers up his arms and getting lost beneath the mystery that lay under his shirt. A hint of a few splotches made their way up his neck, your eyes following them with intent. Your eyes reached that pretty face of his and much to your embarrassment, you had been caught staring, earning a small wink and a hint of a smirk from him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ While you had been many times to that particular tattoo parlor and caught multiple glimpses of him, either working, chatting or simply existing, you never got the chance to actually speak to him. You never even got booked with him. You merely settled for admiring from afar; the contrast of his pale skin with his intricate tattoos, his smudged eyeliner that made his gaze even more intense (or maybe it was just your imagination), the dark circles under his eyes that somehow added to his look, and the most adorable pigtails which were a stark contrast to his whole image. You had accepted your fate that you would never get the chance to come in contact with him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ Even the thought of him was enough to make you blush. You had convinced yourself that it was starting to become an unhealthy obsession- you would never find the balls to even get close to the guy! But it happened. What you had been not so secretly hoping for- wishing for. You had just saved up enough to get a piece done, and when you booked your appointment and heard the name of your artist- you had to physically contain yourself from squealing.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He was the first thing you saw as soon as you entered through the door on the day of your appointment. You were sure you had never felt more nervous in your life; the butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and you could feel the sweat in your palms. It was embarrassing, honestly, but you had to get through it. With a deep breath, you found the courage you did not possess and walked over to him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ The way he lit up upon seeing you did nothing to calm your nerves. On the contrary- were you imagining things? He interacted with you in the sweetest way, and you had to constantly remind yourself that you were his client, his last for the day on top of that, so it was common sense for him to be polite. Soon enough, you both had moved to the back with you only then realizing that everyone else had already left for the night. Sigh.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He complimented you when you described the tattoo you wanted to get - a side piece coming down to your stomach - and you managed to give him a smile and a small 'thank you' in response with difficulty. He had started arranging the caps and inks, and whatever else he needed, when he suddenly voiced; "I'm going to need you to take this off.", pointing to your top.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ who laughed a melody when you yelped, "Excuse me?!", and explained that it was for the best if you didn't want ink to get on your top. You easily complied, slipping the garment off your body and laying back on your seat, calmly waiting for him. Soon, he approached to get you and the stencil ready. "Ready, pretty?"

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He didn't seem to notice the blush that creeped over your cheeks, and you did your best to hide it as well. He started tracing the lines with ink, and you were grateful for the slight distraction the pain from the machine provided. It didn't last. He kept touching you - to stretch your skin and hold you still, of course - and you were finding it extremely hard to not stare at his face, or the piercings adorning it, or his hands, or the way he was touching you. "How are you feeling?"

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ looked up at you, expecting a reply. You had to look at him, and so you did, giving him only a nod. A hint of a smirk appeared on his face, returning your nod. "Good. You're doing so good.", and with that he continued his job, slowly reaching your lower stomach as time passed. It hurt, of course it hurt, but something made you want to put on your brave face and act nonchalant about both the pain and the proximity of you both- his breath was fanning over you stomach, adding a tingly feeling to the pain you felt. And him, he was nonchalant about how he made you feel.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He wasn't stupid, nor a stranger to clients who had small, innocent crushes on him. It happened to everyone, and you didn't make it particularly hard to notice. He could see the way you looked at him, could feel the deeper breaths you sucked in each time his grip on you tightened, or the way you squirmed and closed your thighs every time he worked on your tummy. And Choso enjoyed it. Perhaps a little too much for his own good.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ His pause made you look back at him, a puzzled expression on your face. He gave you a smile and informed you you would be stopping for the night- you would need a second session. Your face visibly dropped; not because you wanted more of the pain from the machine, but because you wanted more of Choso. More of his touch, his small talk, his mere presence. You guessed he saw the look on your face, because just for a fleeting moment, something flickered in his eyes. What it was, you couldn't exactly tell, but it was enough to make your mind wander.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ He had turned to throw away his gloves and you took it as your cue to put your shirt back on and take your leave. While slightly struggling with your top, you picked up the sound of his chair rolling, and when you were able to see again, Choso was right in front of you, right in between your parted legs. Before you could even utter a word, he had already stood up, towering over you as he leaned closer while supporting himself on the back of your chair. "Leaving already?"

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ simply chuckled when your breath hitched in your throat, a low and airy sound that tickled your ears. "You're being so obvious, it's almost painful to watch", he was smirking while eyeing you, watching you stumble over your words and ultimately huff out in defeat. You were the cutest thing he had laid eyes upon. And he wanted to devour you. And he was pretty sure you wanted that, too.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ leaned even closer. You could feel his breath mingling with your own as he took a moment to analyze your face; your widened eyes, your parted lips, your pretty face as a whole. "Can I?", it was a whisper so low you barely heard it, but you were so thankful you did. Your nod was all it took for him to finally crash his lips on yours, his hand snaking to the back of your neck to hold you in place as he used his tongue to part your lips and gain access inside your mouth. All you did was mewl and let him kiss you the way he wanted - rough, but sweet at the same time - your hands gripping the front of his shirt as if his kiss was your life support.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ couldn't hold himself back. His lips never once left your skin after the initial kiss. He only took a second to allow you to catch your breath, before attaching his lips to your neck, his hands taking a hold of your thighs and trailing up and under your shirt. The sounds he was pulling from you were mesmerizing- and he needed to hear more. You could feel his hands roaming all over your body, groping your tits, gripping your side - the one without the fresh tattoo - gripping your thighs. It was driving you insane, and you found yourself feeling grateful for the fact that everyone else had left by then.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ dropped to his knees, placing your thighs over his shoulders and pulling you slightly forward. The skirt you had decided to wear that day flipped over your stomach, exposing your black undies and just how wet you were all for him. His lips found your right inner thigh, kissing and nipping your skin while holding your gaze. You were looking at him in wonder, chewing on your bottom lip in anticipation of his next move.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ smoothed his hands over your thighs, until his right one settled over your crotch. His thumb swiped over the wet patch on your undies and you heard him swear under his breath. "So wet and I've only kissed you.." He shook his head in feign disappointment as he used his finger to pull your underwear to the side. You couldn't even remember how you found yourself in that position; your mind was consumed by Choso and what you hoped he was about to do soon.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ looked at you from below, his gaze intense and hungry- "Can I?", he asked for the second time that night, and you gave him a nod once again. But this time it wasn't enough. "I'm going to need you to speak up, darling". Through whines and whimpers, you managed to give him the verbal consent he needed to hear from you; "Yes! Please, just- Do something.."

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ cooed at the desperation lacing your voice. "Atta girl". And with that, his face disappeared in between your thighs. He buried his face into your cunt, his tongue lapping up your juices and flicking over your clit. A groan sounded from him, along with a muffled mumble of how good you taste, right before you felt his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking. Your hands practically flew to hold onto his head, your fingers threading through his tied up locks- you couldn't decide whether you wanted to pull him closer or pull him off. Everything you were feeling was overwhelming; your moans sounded deafening in your ears and the intensity of his pierced tongue on your clit was enough for you to slowly lose your sanity.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ could live forever in between your thighs and with his head buried into your cunny. Your taste was intoxicating and addicting. It only made him wonder how much sweeter you would taste after cumming, and how much sweeter your moans would sound. How pretty you would look. He was a determined man. As much as he didn't want to, he had to catch his breath and so he pulled back. "Such a sweet, pretty pussy.." He murmured, more to himself. You could feel one of his fingers teasing your hole and before you knew it, he was slipping his digit inside you. "Tight too.. Fuck."

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ got up, looming over your slumping form on the chair with his finger knuckle deep inside you. You looked up at him with doe eyes, your breath baited. His thumb was lazily circling your clit as he slowly pushed in a second finger causing you to cry out and hold onto his hand that was in between your legs. "You're doing so good f'me, baby.. That's it..". His encouragement only added to your pleasure, and while it felt embarrassing, you were already close.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ could feel it. Your tight heat enveloping his fingers had his mind wandering to how good you'd feel around his cock. But that had to wait. His fingers began moving skillfully inside you, curling upwards to hit directly your sweet spot and his lips claimed yours once again, swallowing your moans and whimpers. His fingers were moving fast and hard, driving you even closer to your release. You tried to warn him, tell him that you were close, but he was kissing you with such fervor you found it hard to resist him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ could feel you tightening, but he never expected to feel your thighs clenching over his hand and your release gushing around his fingers so soon; it was nothing he would complain about, though. He slowed down but didn't stop; instead he helped you ride out your orgasm, his forehead pressed against yours as he looked into your eyes. When you began squirming due to the overstimulation, that's when he knew he had to move away and let you breathe normally again - not that you would be able to.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ crouched down, taking his fingers out of you and showing them to you. "You made such a mess", and you looked half-shocked as he cleaned his digits off with his tongue. He stood up on his full height with a laugh and walked away, leaving you bewildered on the chair. Was that it? "Um..", you began and looked down at him when he crouched once more in between your legs and cleaned your mess with a cloth. "Hm?" He cocked one eyebrow, but his gaze remained focused on his task at hand. "Aren't.. I mean, won't we..?", you tried to subtly explain to him, only to earn a truly genuine laugh from him.

TATTOO ARTIST! CHOSO ╾ got up and helped you get dressed, "I wanna take you out first, what do you take me for?". That had you laughing this time, getting up from the seat on wobbly legs with his help. He escorted you all the way to the exit, a cheeky grin on his pretty face and a playful glint in his eyes. "I think I have a cancellation tomorrow. I'd be more than happy to finish up.. your tattoo".

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