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playerninth · 9 months ago

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P.S I LIKE YOU (TOO) ⪧ DAY 13 OF PIWONTOBER

non idol!jiung x fem!reader (smut mdni)

彡 – everything transpired after a single drunken mistake—you and your best friend getting inspired after watching: ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ one friday night after midterm week had dragged on. except, you weren’t lara jean covey. and no one’s exactly a peter kavinsky in your life. all you’ve got is a last chance to retake your econ class for the second time, and an undeniably attractive guy as a project partner. a thought you wouldn’t express out loud. but what if he accidentally receives your drunk written love letter detailing just how much you thought of it so?

author's note: the way this thing had a billion revisions before reaching this stage... anyway, although i'm incredibly late TT i'm still very excited to share with you guys yet another jiung fic!! also, i can't forget to mention how amazing @kisseobie and @sxfterhearts are for hosting piwontober & bringing the p1ece community together♡ it's my first time joining these sort of events, and i had a lot of fun writing! + apologies for any typos! :(

word count: 7.9k

warnings: smut, blackmail, make up sex, face-sitting, seven minutes in heaven

comments are welcome♡ i'd love to hear your thoughts!

despite being drunk out of your mind to the point you've written that piece of tangible regret, you remember the same night all too well—the clock ticks past after hours as the mingling whiff of alcohol and a box of left over pizza hangs in the air. you were surprised you've managed to drag yourself all the way to the weekend, remnants of grueling exams left unspoken between you and your best friend whom you share a dorm room with. midterms weren't really worth mentioning when you could drown in gossip and delude about your hypothetical boyfriends.

from random guys in class, to boybands, and above all: celebrities in cheesy romcoms you've rewatched an abnormal amount. that certain night's choice was a classic between you and your best friend: 'to all the boys i've loved before.'

except, you weren't lara jean covey. and no one's exactly a peter kavinsky in your life. yet, hell breaks loose when you receive a text from choi jiung one fated morning that had you unleash a piercing shriek, and thankfully, had locked yourself in a stall at an empty bathroom in the middle of your university campus.

not like that makes things any better than they already are.

enclosed within the four cramped walls of the bathroom stall was a feeling you'd never forget—the continuous drip of the leaking faucet and silence amplified the thudding beat of your heart. the screen of your phone glowing faintly as you stare at the message you've left on read for the past five minutes: a photo jiung had sent of the letter you've written that certain night after getting wrongfully inspired from lara jean's dilemma. unfortunately detailing an exaggerated confession on your unfiltered thoughts of jiung being totally attractive. hot, even. a running commentary on everything you wouldn’t express out loud.

this fiasco would probably cost you a couple of months avoiding a bottle of soju, because how are you going to dodge yourself out of this one? especially when his follow up message adds further salt to the wound—the envelope clearly stating your full name and address in bold, inked letters.

the seconds stretch out as the cramped stall started feeling a bit stuffier, your shaky fingers hovering over the keyboard in contemplation. you’d normally block him and just fail the damn class if it were like any other instance, except… it was your last chance to retake this subject. you couldn’t afford another fuck up.

[9:07] jiung: this letter’s handwriting strangely matches the one on your notes

[9:09] jiung: before you try to deny anything

all you ever wanted at that moment was to strangle yourself... because a love letter so vulnerable like that has no place being in a pile of notes, and to be given to your partner for a class project. when you thought handing him the material would be the end of it (after being utterly sick of his self-centered work ethic), but the universe had plans otherwise.

[9:13] y/n: it wasn’t something you’re supposed to see

[9:14] jiung: but i did

[9:16] y/n: i was drunk, okay? can we please forget about it?

[9:18] jiung: and people say drunk words are sober thoughts

[9:20] y/n: do i look like i care about stupid bullshit like that rn

[9:22] jiung: oh

[9:22] jiung: so you don’t care if people other than me see this letter?

[9:23] y/n: what

[9:24] y/n: you can’t just use that against me??

[9:26] jiung: let’s see how well this thing means so much to you then

[9:27] y/n: ???

and when you thought you’d never see the pulsating, message bubble as he types as such a dreadful thing, your nerves suspended in the most excruciating minutes. 9:28, 9:29… 9:30...

[9:31] jiung: main library, 2pm, this friday. oct 13

that was, a distant week ago. you figured you should probably show up this time, all in the name of having the existence of the letter stay between the two of you. even if it meant having to deal with the growing habit of waking up in the middle of the night from the anxiety crawling upon your thoughts. until once and for all, the day came.

your feet felt rather heavier that day, dragging your mopey figure through the winding halls of the university. the halloween spirit on campus feeling far too suffocating, the orange and black streamers hanging from the ceilings a mere blur. other people were buzzing about the upcoming university halloween party at the end of the month, yet all you ever wished was that you were some random skull decor perched at a corner, undisturbed. and that you weren't nearing the doors to the main library, a sight that you loathed with your whole being.

and there he was, choi jiung. the guy wreaking havoc in your life. okay, well—maybe not that actively, but he's been a constant force you're trying to push toward the back of your mind ever since you made such a stupid mistake, to the point you don’t even know how you could redeem yourself.

“hey,”

“hey.” you're surprised you even managed to croak out a reply, finding yourself unable to maintain eye contact with him for more than two seconds–pathetically.

you were about to claim the seat in front of him before he raises a familiar envelope nestled within his fingers, and you wasted absolutely no time at the chance. snatching the thing with vigor just to rip it to smithereens, earning a few glares from other people in the library. you couldn't care less.

jiung lets out a laugh underneath his breath, adorably irritating so, as he watches fragments of the letter fall before him like confetti. you finally settled on a seat across him, and the further time dragged on, the more it seemed to prove your written letter right.

he was undeniably magnetic, from the way his clothes drape over his shoulders, his bangs framing his face with its stark black—the waft of his perfume despite the distance. your gaze can't help itself from shifting over to his fingers with every turn of a page, almost as if he was the perfect distraction.

and that tie sitting on his collar, really? what was his major again? you couldn't be bothered to muse over whether or not academia fashion was a staple for whatever program he was taking, especially when you couldn't blame him. 'cause he truly held a sort of charm that makes you wanna ravish him right then and there. that you had to remind yourself: time and place, his glasses beginning to lean crooked subtly to the side before his finger pushed it further up his nose bridge. ultimately turning back to you—who already had eyes on him, locked.

jiung speaks, faintly registered in your currently preoccupied head. honestly, the only qualm you carry against him is that he wants to get things done, his way. which is partly the reason why this partner project has gotten awry, his ego clashing a horrible amount with your stubbornness. guess not everyone can have it after all.

of course you had to have it figured out eventually. even if it had to cost you biting down your tongue from spewing possible scathing remarks with his every word. due to the fact that any moment you tried to challenge his ideas, he'd quote all the lines he could possibly remember from your embarrassing letter. and it was only the librarian's stare pinning you down from grabbing jiung by the hair out of annoyance, because the both of you were causing quite a bit of disturbance.

“you know, i can't deny that little love letter of yours was kinda cute.” he leans forward, loving the way your face morphs into irritation.

“cute? you think it's cute that i accidentally confessed about—” you caught yourself, clearing your throat before rolling your eyes at him. “i mean, whatever. just concentrate.”

“hey, hey. finish it. about what? your quote on quote, suppressed feelings for me?” god, you so badly wanted to slap that smirk out of his face.

you could only manage to groan, running a hand through your hair. “no! i mean my deep annoyance at your inability to take me seriously, to take this project seriously!”

“excuse me, could you keep it down? this is a library.” you immediately turn towards the librarian, clutching a hand over your mouth at the realization that you might've… raised your voice a little too loud.

“sorry,” you muttered, eyes fixated on your notes sprawled over the table. “we were just—”

“working very loudly?” the librarian cut you off, and the worst part is–jiung still had the audacity to look at you with much mischief in his eyes. and that stupid smirk. “if you can’t keep quiet, i'm kindly asking you to leave.”

and that was… the last of what you've heard once you began gathering your things out of embarrassment, jiung trailing behind you like a lost puppy as you pretend you don't even know who he is, walking towards the nearest exit.

maybe choi jiung really is a constant force in your life. despite the day at the library being the last time you’d spend with him until presentations came tomorrow, it felt as if he never really left your mind. constantly drifting like a cloud over your head, lingering. and you so desperately wanted to bury him as a distant memory. busying yourself with other major projects, going out with friends, and the main event that the everyone’s been buzzing about for weeks: the awaited university halloween party.

it worked to distract you for the most part, lost within the crowd sprawled over the expanse of the green field, now only a crackle of grass beneath your heels. lights flickered along with the thump of the music’s bass. you watched the collective silhouette of people dressed in costumes, either tipsy out of their mind or buzz undying. you’d probably be seen with a red cup full of alcohol in hand, if you hadn’t sworn to yourself that you wouldn’t be touching a bottle of soju until a few months time. remnants of your little disaster from not too long ago trying to haunt you.

and so you turned to the cold air nipping at your bare skin, which you have to thank your skimpy little black dress for. the racy outfit you’d put together in an excuse to dress up as a witch, seductively at that. you partly regret bringing your witch hat with you despite contemplating about it a while ago, having to deal with the thing repeatedly slipping over your eyes. making a simple task of opening your phone to a flood of text messages, a challenge. after a couple of foiled attempts, you managed to get the gist—and that your friends are waiting for you at some frat house to join an after party.

the main event endlessly unfolds despite midnight fastly approaching. dragging your feet towards the front part of the crowd where it pulsed with much more energy, hopefully making your way towards the right direction of the area near the frat house. the music echoed like it wanted you to stay for a while, lose yourself to the beat as you tried to keep your witch hat tilted upright. not until another drag of the hat back up had your eyes flickering towards the dj manning the booth. keeping the night alive as lights hung overhead, casting a glow behind his figure and perfectly accentuating his side profile. yet the more your gaze traced the curve of his nose, the tousle of his hair as he let himself move to the rhythm.

for a split second the lights confirmed your suspicion, except you didn’t want to say anything. say his name, his everything, crawling back to your mind. you’d even forgotten why you were trying to erase him from your thoughts. maybe, just maybe… it wouldn’t be too bad to keep your eyes rested on him this time around. and it wasn’t as if you could turn away if you tried regardless.

there was something about catching sight of this side of him you never knew he had. at that moment, it felt like it was only the both of you existing in a bubble of your own. there was quite a distance between his position at the makeshift stage and yours below; nevertheless, the sparkle within his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. and in that moment nothing else mattered, the difficulty of trying to tear your stare away from him weighing over you.

no, no, no. not again. not this time.

the after party at the frat house, right.

reality comes crashing in once more, blinking rapidly as you tried to bump your way through the crowd. glancing everywhere you could to seek refuge, any way out, somewhere. mind racing with a mantra, “forget him forget him forget about him,” suppressing everything you’ve ever thought of the moment you laid eyes on him. chalking it up to the fact that it was probably your unrequited feelings for him hitting you like a brick. but… it wasn’t like you were ever serious about him, weren’t you?

your feet felt heavy trying to keep him out of reach, away from the taunt of his presence. the further you tried to push through what seems to be the edge of the field had you jostled within the crowd, and it didn’t help the flashing lights began disorienting your vision. you hastily fish your phone out, scrolling for past messages to double check the location of the frat house. except you realized, you weren’t really sure where to go from here.

your chest tightens. trying to take in sharper breaths as the mass of people were closing in around you, trying to push more, yet was met with more resistance. the smell of alcohol and loud noise started swallowing you, panic rushing through your veins. this is bad. this is really really bad.

and all of a sudden you heard a faint call, your ears picking it up with its subtlety. it was a brief echo through the music, until you heard it once more.

“y/n! over here!”

you swiftly whip your head around to scan the blur of faces, pulse quickening—at last, your gaze landing on someone familiar.

“i’ve been looking for you for ages.” he pants, trying to catch his breath from approaching you through the tight crowd. yoon keeho, although clad in a rather comical vampire costume, brought you a sense of relief.

“you okay? you look…”

“yeah, i’m just…. i got a bit lost.” you admit, lacing your fingers through your hair after finally taking off your witch hat.

keeho lets out a laugh beneath his breath, earning a piercing glare from you before extending a hand out to point. “you’re better off at the after party with me, everyone else is here so… it isn’t too crowded there yet.”

you hum, clutching your purse before following as keeho steps towards the way out. “come on,”

and at that, the both of you slip away from the field with its chaos, music fading far beyond the distance.

within the frat house lingered the scent of alcohol from a previous round of beer pong. it was dimly lit, but you’ll know empty red cups are strewn around from its hollow crunch beneath accidental steps. the door trickled bit by bit with newcomers, the party outside eventually simmering down to a hum, occasionally cut with bursts of laughter and constant conversation. thank god keeho had found you.

yet that was a while ago. you couldn’t decipher the exact time but it seemed way past midnight. it was a stark contrast to the huddle of people buzzing in excitement, your figure amongst them in a circle on the floor. it was probably, what… like the third or fourth round of seven minutes in heaven? the poor closet door slams open to another couple exiting, far too all over each other than you’d like to witness.

it was like that for the past thirty minutes, having to sit through rounds of people shutting themselves within the closet as you were forced to hear thumps against the wall hear and there—and you’d rather not find out what had gone on. the soju bottle in the middle of your formed circle felt like a threat as it waits to be spun, yet you couldn’t manage to grasp out of the situation from keeho’s grip on your wrist.

“you’re not leaving until the bottle points to you.” his fingers tighten his hold, his other hand bringing a drink up to his lips.

"keeho, i don’t know these people!” you whisper-shouted, narrowing your brows at him.

and it wasn’t helping that it was proving especially difficult to take him seriously with the vampire get up he had on. "that’s the thrill about it? and when i thought you’ll live up to your words when you told me you’ll get out of your comfort zone right after high school.”

it was probably your over-ambitioned self talking back then. “we’re only juniors. we have plenty of time.”

"plenty of time? you only have a year, y/n”

you didn’t bother responding, yet he’s still trying his best to provoke a reaction out of you. “no one really stands out to me right now among these strangers if i’m going to be honest. but… maybe you’ll find someone that’s your type—”

"keeho, how many times do i have to tell you that i really don’t give a fuck about anyone else here right now.”

"yeah, that! fuck.” he drags the end of his sentence in such an overly teasing tone, flashing him a look like he just said something so outrageous, because indeed it was...

"mess around a little bit, you know. get frisky in that closet or something.”

"seven minutes isn’t enough for that.”

“yeah, you would know.”

you were on the verge of landing a smack over his shoulder when a chorus of gasps erupted, drawing your attention.

and just your luck, the bottle points to you.

all you could muster was a defeated sigh, waiting for the soju bottle to spin once more to select the stranger you’d be stuck with in that closet for an excruciating seven minutes. except it never came, and only a hand reaches out to snap you out of your thoughts.

“shall we?” oh. it was that same voice you wished you weren’t at all familiar with, looking above the shadow looming over you. akin to a moth towards a flame. and it’s just a matter of figuring out who’s who between the two of you.

choi jiung, wearing a smirk that tugged on his lips that you almost wanted to slap off him, like always. you did—well, slap his hand away from your face, rolling your eyes before rising and rushing towards the closet door as he follows.

you almost missed keeho’s words, “is that…” a comment faint in volume when he recalls the day you told him all about your ‘jiung fiasco’ during a phone call.

you drowned in silence inside the closet, not even bothering to turn the light on. figures slumped against the wooden walls across each other. you hugged your knees to your chest, hyper aware of how cramped the space was and your paralyzing fear of having your legs accidentally brush against his.

all you could hear was the frantic hammer of your heartbeat within your chest, sighing in relief that he couldn’t see the flush creeping over your expression. him, well… the most you could make out from the dimness was the stupid mask you hadn’t realized he put back on.

“take that damn ghostface mask off before i punch it out of your face.”

oh, and you regret saying that, 'cause he truly took the mask off, “as you wish.”

he looked so unbelievably hot. annoyingly disproportionate to his simple costume of black fabric draped over his figure, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders just right. along with his hair falling over his eyes and—no. not another monologue of being down bad. enough.

silence hung in the air once more, not like it ever left, but the noise from outside seemed to have drained away and all it was in the moment were you and jiung, paused.

"so, what’s up with… the situation lately?” he speaks up, breaking the silence.

"you know…” you find yourself trailing off, voice small.

"know what?"

“the letter,” you finished his sentence, fragility within your words. “i never meant for you to see it.”

"you’re mad because i found out about it? y/n it’s just a letter—”

"to you, jiung. for me it was my vulnerable thoughts out in the open. t-too personal.”

your voice began to break, the air feeling heavier by the minute. the absence of sound failed to muffle the thud within your pulse. further amplified when he rests his hand over yours perched atop your knee, his touch noticeably warm. you didn’t pull away.

"right, i’m sorry. i understand, i shouldn’t have said that.”

“it’s okay. it was a mistake of mine and—i kinda… made it feel weird between us because of that.” jiung’s lips part in search of words, though you couldn’t see. his fingers tried fiddling with yours, an attempt to ease your tentative tone.

"weird how?”

"you know, ‘cause…”

"hm?”

"shut up,” fuck. you weren’t supposed to let that slip out of your lips, far too affected from how effortlessly attractive he sounded from a single, minor hum. and he didn’t even mean for it to come across like that. “sorry i, just. i can’t face you right now.”

"take your time, y/n”

yet how can you think straight when he says your name like that? the softness his voice held, the gentle tone making your heart skip a beat without fail.

"i was just caught off guard when you… did the whole blackmail thing. i’d—i thought you would just laugh it off or whatever.” you scoff lightly.

"i wouldn’t ever mock you like that. i mean, i kinda did… joke around with you at the library but! i meant it, lightheartedly.”

"mhm.” his fingers remain fidgeting with yours, your eyes drifting downwards. “i just, wanted some space. it was humiliating for me, okay?”

and then it hit jiung with a click. he might’ve went too far with the whole blackmail thing. “i get that. i never meant for you to feel that way, i just… wanted a chance to talk to you further. and spend maybe... a bit more time together.” he clarified, eventually lacing his fingers with yours, closely.

"but deep down i kinda knew you wouldn’t like, rat me out to whoever. it’s part of why i came to like you—sorry i… i know you don’t like me back and i keep talking about my feelings for you and—”

"i never said i didn’t like you back.”

"huh?”

"tell me, when did i ever tell you i don’t like you?”

the question looped within your mind. except all that there ever was is a cloud of uncertainty, his intentions slipping through your grasp like sand. what does he even mean?

"jiung, you’re confusing me.”

then all of a sudden you watch as he bursts into laughter, and you hastily grab his ghostface mask from a corner to playfully smack it against his head.

"you’re so unbelievably dense.”

you click your tongue, shoulders slumping in defeat. "it’s always been a problem of mine, i just don’t know how to handle my feelings.”

the next few words came out almost in a whisper, despite feeling your most vulnerable. “it’s probably why i… don’t have much experience with… this kinda stuff, unlike my friends.”

his fingers ceased playing with yours, now taking both of your hands in his, enveloped around yours like it were meant to be like that. warm.

“you don’t have to deal with this alone, y/n”

the moment wound down once more at the silence that fell.

"okay, look. i’ll just say it once and for all.” his tone is firm, almost commanding you to lift your gaze up at him. “i really, really like you. and i want to be with you. can we start over? please?”

you didn’t know what to respond at that instance. held frozen in place, but the rush of emotion through your nerves acted otherwise. all at once, it came washing over you like a wave.

"jiung?” you call out to him, as there goes another one of his hums. “you mean it?”

"of course i do.” he’s kneeling before you now, so damn close, it felt like your heart’s going to jump out of your chest. your pulse picks up, racing, as his other hand remains interlocked with yours and the other sneaks to caress your cheek.

jiung’s inching closer with every passing second, the air thick with anticipation as if it wasn’t already so stuffy from the cramped space. your eyes flutter shut while the only thing you could sense is the warmth of his breath against your lips. tilting your head subtly to the side, was that how they did it in the romcoms? failing to realize that you’re beginning to clutch his hand in yours harder that—“seven minutes is up!”

the closet door swings open without warning, your hands flying to push jiung away as his back meets the wall with a slight thud, watching the light stream into the cramped space. all over too soon.

yet it was just the catalyst to your eager desire; unable to take your hands off each other the moment you stepped foot outside of the closet. more like it was jiung getting rather handsy, his palm warm over the small of your back. even unabashedly pulling you closer to his side once you sink back down with the rest of the huddled group playing seven minutes. you’ve no reason to stay here anymore.

it came fleeting rather quickly, one moment he had you by the hand out of the door to that damned frat house, traversing through the empty, wasted field and towards the direction of the university dormitories. from the slightest ounce of privacy that touched your fingertips, you started yearning for more. as you reached the floor to your room, jiung wastes no time trapping you against the corridor wall, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“can i?” he mumbles against your skin, rather sensitive. and you would think he’s incapable of holding back a little kiss during the heat of the moment. except he still asks, lips beginning to ghost over you, bare.

"you don’t look like you could wait for—hngh, anything else.” you struggle underneath his grip, his hands fastening your wrists against the wall as he pushes against you impossibly closer. “i wanna hear you say yes.”

he follows, trailing further up that his nose subtly bumps on your cheek. you feel like you’re turning insane, the more time dragged on and he keeps holding back.

“please jiung, want you all over me…” you whine, a bit more when he finally presses a soft kiss over your flushed cheeks. he looked irresistible, pulling away to stare down at you with his eyes; glossed with hunger.

“even better.” and this time he inches closer once more, his lips hovering over yours tentatively, waiting for you to bridge the gap. and so you did, kissing him back with as much fervor. completely forgetting about the fact that this was the first time you’ve properly made out with someone, and you weren’t even quite sure if you’re doing it right.

it were as if jiung had a sort of sixth-sense, holding you gently by your jaw as your lips weave into a searing kiss, wet by the second as his tongue peeks out. sliding over your bottom lip. “i got you, relax.” he utters, the rumble of his voice traveling straight to your core.

jiung pulls away for a brief moment of oxygen, crashing his lips back to yours. sliding his tongue into your mouth this time ‘round, and you melt against him—weak in the knees as he rolls his wet muscle sinfully against yours.

“can’t get enough of you already,” it was a mystery how he manages to slip a few words here and there, from your pathetic state struggling to keep up with his desperate pace. proving truth to his words when the swirl of his tongue was followed by suckling on your own, that all you could do was mewl, you poor little thing.

it was dangerously risqué, anyone could simply walk into the sight of your sorry state, falling apart fully if it weren’t for jiung holding you up. keeping you upright despite the evident wobble in your knees as he continued to ravage you wantonly, done with his assault on your tongue that he’s moved to subtly bite on your bottom lip, bruised.

"mhmm.” you shudder, swallowing in a moan when he turns to the shell of your ear instead, tracing it sensitive, his spit cold once the air hit. and so he sucks, like he obsessively does, feeling every gentle flick of his tongue rush straight to your core.

you’re already so embarrassingly wet despite still being fully clothed, and his hands had done nothing but to remain over your cheek all this time. his nails raked against the thin fabric of your skimpy dress, mind turned to mush as the only thought you could render was that he needed to touch you right now. futher, more… more than you could ever fathom to beg for him out in the open.

“jiung…” you whimper, right against his ear. feeling his pants get uncomfortably tight that he just has to redirect his energy into smothering you, littering wet, hot, open-mouthed kisses on the expanse of your sensitive neck.

“yes baby?” it took him quite a while to respond, the petname sending a flutter in your chest. he tries to hold himself back before he began to litter nibbles over your skin.

his fingertips are a prickle over your body, finding yourself struggling to respond. mind blank, and you couldn’t even remember why you called out to him in the first place.

“mhmm,”

"you’re already so, horny. aren’t you?”

he’s met yet another smack to the shoulder, probably the nth time from yours this evening.

"don’t say it like that!” you tried leaning impossibly closer, your tone much less than a whisper.

nonetheless, jiung’s brain was equally as foggy, the impact of your hit disregarded. from his point of view, it was unbeknownst that your mind was swirling with how to break the looming silence. the only thing that had his attention in a headlock was the intoxicating sight of you, looking up at him, eyes glossed over in feral desire

your lips adorably bruised, proud of his insatiable work from earlier. your cheeks flushed and brows frustratingly knitted together. it was as if you’re wordlessly begging for him to kneel before you. in fact he would, right at the first syllable of anything you’d utter. and right past that was a sight behold, the swell of your breast, cleavage peeking underneath your outfit.

fuck, he needs you, mind driven towards delirium from his longing to touch. within the warmth from the palm of his hand, undoubtedly even better if he had his mouth on them, loving it wet. he needed you. so. so. badly.

"did you drink?” your voice was delicate, snapping him out of his trance.

“no.” and he was saying the truth. no sip of alcohol carried the same effect of his drunken want over your everything.

this time you took initiative, interlocking fingers with his as you dragged him towards your dorm room. every step you took in the hall felt electric, finding yourself fumbling with the key through the door as jiung’s hand teasingly dips past your waist.

at last pulling him inside, closing the door with a slam as you resume ravishing each other’s lips. you’re too dizzy at this point, his forehead pressing against yours as tries to keep you close. and with every step backwards goes a wet peck, bodies trailing toward your bed until your legs hit the edge.

and so he pushes you, gently, attempting to hold yourself up with your elbows toward the headboard. not until jiung grabs you by your thighs, nails digging over the plush—from that he abruptly yanks you back toward him and earns a surprised mewl.

“don’t go anywhere.”

“jiung, ‘m not.” yet he doesn’t answer anymore, resting his arms on either side of your head. you’ll never catch him without his lips on you, searching, sucking less than harshly that he might as well leave a mark. every nibble and flick of his tongue had you writhing beneath, and you couldn’t help but spread your legs open. hoping he’d take the hint.

he’s turning you breathless, with every press of his lips over your skin igniting such flame in your tummy.

“touch me jiung, please,” you finally cry out, driven crazy when your cunt’s clenching around nothing, wet yet untouched.

“where baby?” jiung rises from busying himself with your neck, only realizing just how much effect he had on you now that he’s gotten a proper view.

you lay there, helpless beneath his figure with your hair disheveled. lips parted from panting, chest heaving up and down.

“here,” you replied, out of breath. turning your head to the side abashed, that you couldn’t even grasp the fact that you’d reach this point. jiung meets your hands, letting you guide his hold toward your clothed breasts.

he couldn’t help a subtle smile tug on his lips, “you’re so damn cute,” jiung teases, swiftly pressing a kiss on your exposed cheek. “i’ll make you feel good, alright?”

please, you’d probably whine out, if you weren’t wallowing so much in the shame of drawing his touch right over your breasts. even so, he’s eager to pry you apart, relishing in the fact that despite your inexperience, you still push through, for him��communicating what you truly wanted.

and it left him with the inclination to fulfill it.

jiung groped your sensitive mounds through the fabric, turning your breathing ragged by the minute. god, you’re already so sensitive, and with every fleeting touch of his hands against your breasts, went to travel straight down to your cunt. sopping wet as you pushed your thighs together in an attempt to relieve the sticky feeling of your panties. proving useless. he then slips his fingers beneath the edge of your dress, thankfully strapless. right atop your chest, pulling it down until he’s met with the sight of your lacey little bra. “pretty,”

and yet he doesn’t show a single trace of rush carried in his actions, feeling you up to build the thrill, groping. “jiung...” you beg, reaching out to his wrist.

“patience,” he sounded curt, but the way he gently fondles your clothed breasts said otherwise.

right when he’s dragged as much of your dress down as he can, jiung catches you off guard—promptly sliding his hands beneath your bra that had your breath hitching. the warmth of his palms flush against your nipples, already perky, yearning for his touch.

jiung just has you pliant beneath him as the vulgar scene unfolds, tenderly groping, fondling your tits along with occasional pinches to your sensitive buds and making you mewl without fail. turns him on so so much, seeing you exposed so adorably that you had let go of all sense left within your body.

it didn’t take too long for him to come to a point, he couldn’t help himself anymore. the erotic sight of your desperate state rutting your clothed cunny up against his torso, helplessly. jiung finally hikes your bra up, your breasts spilling out of a fabric in such a way he can’t resist salivating over your vulnerable image.

and so he wastes no time. if you weren’t so lost within such a sensual trance that had your eyes fixated on the ceiling, you might’ve gotten the chance to catch jiung’s expression, his eyes completely glazed over. hungrily, he encloses his lips around your nipple, the warm wetness of his tongue swirling and flicking against the bud with abandon.

you swore your cunt begins to clench around nothing as he continued his work on you, skin erupting in goosebumps as he relentlessly sucks on the bud; lewd sounds filling the expanse of your dorm room. he doesn’t let your other breast get neglected, fondling its plush with the sporadic flick of his thumb over the bud over and over. ultimately urging you to hump against him suffocated in lust that’s taken over your whole being.

“ahh… jiung—” all you could manage to sputter out were pathetic whimpers, head thrown back as you sink into the mattress. his actions were a medley of flicking his hot tongue on to the other bud, switching, towards rapid kitten licks with his lips fully enclosed around it. eventually withdrawing with a short pop from the messy slick of his drool. once more diving back in to continue his feral abuse on your sensitive nipple. “feeling good?”

and you couldn’t even manage to choke out a reply even if you wanted to, drowning in suffocating desire. jiung pulls away, the hunger in him still begging to get satiated, his cock hard in his pants. a string of spit between your bud and his lip, glistening as it snapped.

anticipation overtakes you once more as he gently pushes your breasts together, flushed before craning back in to tongue over your swollen nipples, moving his head side to side in a frenzy. and you’re just so far gone, the warmth of his tongue licking over your buds with each turn. your already helpless state reduced to a mess, only able to splutter out hoarse moans. and he hasn’t even touched your needy cunt yet.

you had to pry him away from you, it was enough—more than enough before jiung manages to drive you towards an orgasm from merely stimulating your tits, having enough of embarrassing yourself in front of him. you’re not about to cum this early on, clothes barely taken off. you entwine your fingers through his hair, and just when he lets you breathe does he really see what he’s made of you.

sure, he looked disheveled as well, spit by the side of his lip. except you’re far worse, legs trembling from the growing wetness from your center, eyes lidded in a struggle to keep them open. blissed out of your mind and still, all you’ve ever wanted to see was jiung ravaging you like an animal.

“wanna take this all off, jiung…” he’s watchful, hooked on your voice that’s starting to turn a pitch higher than before.

“want more,”

lust bubbles within his chest, listening as you wish despite your struggle finishing sentences out of daze. “want to feel good with you,” your fingers try to reach beyond jiung’s chest, not making it far down but hoping he’d take the hint. swearing that the further you went without relief from your uncomfortable, sticky panties, the more you’ll spiral insane.

you began pulling the rest of your dress down in a hurry when jiung stops you. meeting your eyes glossed over as if you’re on the verge of tearing up from the pleasure, quite so. flashing him a puzzled look.

“i don’t have a condom with me.” he finally brings it up, fingers slowly tracing the curve of your wrist.

“me too…” you replied, sullen. jiung feeling guilty from discreetly thinking you looked adorable from the pout on your face.

at that moment you saw the instantaneous spark of idea carried in his eyes. any other day, you’d probably shoot him a glare, but now you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. especially when he’s had you wrapped around his finger, vulnerable and exposed, feeling your nerves ignite from the tension.

“you can sit on my face baby.”

“what?”

“sit on my face.”

he repeats it so matter-of-factly that it left you completely speechless, in a struggle to find the right words in response.

“jiung, i– it’s my first time and—”

“i know” his tone is reassuring, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “and i want you to know that i got you.” you could only conjure a feeble whine. ‘cause what does he mean with the fact that the two of you were just bickering a few weeks ago, and now he wants you to smother his face with your cunt.

“think of it as payback.” he spoke, his voice holding a honeyed warmth.

“use me however you want, after all, i’ve caused you enough problems with that letter.”

well, it was the last you’ve coherently heard of him that night. especially when everything he tried to say came out muffled while he’s got quite literally a mouthful of your dripping pussy. the lewd scene unfolds within the privacy of your dorm room, relieved that your roommate hadn’t decided to return yet. and if you could still recall whether or not these walls were soundproof.

everything that unraveled was such a filthy sight. your black dress, bra, and panties with it’s notable patch of your arousal on the fabric—discarded in a pile somewhere on the floor. it was the least of your worries when you’re currently sitting snug over jiung’s face, cunny rubbing against his wet, warm tongue that had your knuckles clenched and holding onto the headboard for dear life.

making sense of how the hell you’d gotten yourself in this position, taking into account that it’s your first time delving into anything frisky. however, you were running on nothing else but raging horniness, maintaining your desperate rhythm as you ride his face. grinding your hips in haste, folds slick as you use his tongue to get off. just so damn erotic.

it was truly pushing you towards the edge faster than you’d like to admit. his tongue sliding in and out of your pulsing hole, lightning fast. slick kitten licking against your clit over and over, when it isn’t the tip of his nose bumping on your pleasured, swollen bud.

fuck, it was a far more tantalizing sight as you turned to look behind you. through your lashes, watching jiung’s obscene state—his pants dragged down, jerking himself off, fast. his hand gripping his cock just right, up and down, wishing it was your pulsing cunt squeezing his shaft right now.

he made it a point, the next time he gets to ravage you senseless, you’d be crying out having enough of his cock plowing into your hole.

now it was just you you you, using him like he insisted you did.

jiung begins to amp it up, eager to send you towards your high. his tongue simultaneously slipping in and out of your hole before dragging back up, flattened to flick at your clit—god, it felt insatiably good, the pace in which you roll your hips on his face grew faltered. thighs turning wobbly as you neared your climax.

“hahh—fuckkk… jiung, you… you make me feel so good,” you pant, breathlessly fucking yourself on his tongue.

the best he could do was to hum in reply, against your clit, the vibration feeling insanely good as it travels straight to your core. his other hand grips harshly on the plush of your thigh, nails raking over the skin. almost forming crescents, vulgar and indecent, yet it all felt too pleasurable.

“i’m close, ‘m so, so close~” you whine out, your tangled fingers in his hair tightening. earning another moan that vibrated over your swollen, needy clit. your other hand struggling to keep leverage on to the headboard.

at this point you’re far too deep in pleasure, desperate to cum as you chase your high. turning crazy from how it felt so so good to ride his face, tongue working you toward it, the squelch of your sticky arousal dripping down his chin. more, more, moreee—rolling your hips over his face like you’re in such a rut, and it seems to be the case.

suddenly—you trembled, writhing in convulse as it came crashing over you like a wave. a particular bump of the tip of his nose against your clit before his relentless suckling pushed you teetering toward the edge. and he so desperately wanted to cum with you at the same time, stroking his cock faster. collecting part of your slick dripping down his chin to wet his shaft. jiung feels your cunt begin to gush, his nails digging deeper crescents into the plush of your thigh because you visibly couldn't handle the shake of your knees from the pleasure. his tongue, never ceasing to flick and flatten as he drags it on to your clit. over and over, lapping up your sticky cum.

“ahh–mhmh, jiung~!” you tug on his hair, fingers laced as you tried to squirm away from his grip. “no more!” yet he's making it difficult for you to do so, both of his arms locking your thighs in place as he began his endless ordeal of licking up your release. s'too much, too much–yet felt too fucking good, rendering you overstimulated out of your mind, merciless.

and when you've finally freed yourself from his grip, you stumbled back on to your mattress, disoriented. it was a blur, feeling yourself momentarily lose balance, suddenly collapsing onto the sheets. jiung immediately rose to his elbows, reaching toward you despite his voice beginning to sound like a distant muffle. concern was greatly etched across his face, “y/n are you okay?” you hear him, and yet it resounded like a distant echo, seeing his concerned expression the last few seconds before your vision slips into darkness.

his composure falters at that instant. had he pushed you too hard? he gazed down on your figure, laying there seemingly peaceful despite your exhaustion. once again you're vulnerable beneath his eyes. to him, jiung takes it as another chance to take care of you, his eyes tracing every outline of your features. and the gentle heaving of your chest that reminded him that he has to prove you that you can trust him.

“tired... ung, i'm okay,” you manage to mumble, and he releases a sigh of relief. almost moving to touch you before he realizes that he's… made quite a mess of his own as well. making a quick trip to the bathroom to clean himself up, stumbling upon bits of your clothes strewn over the floor.

he found you alrewdy fast asleep when he came back. making it a point in his head to go easy on you next time–he wouldn't admit, but the way panic surged through his nerves once you collapsed got him shaken. but in a few minutes he's gotten you into your matching pajamas, tucked underneath a blanket as he slides beside you. he holds your body close to his chest, “night baby,” you couldn't hear him; nonetheless, he still wanted to whisper to you sweet, pressing chaste kisses atop your head.

jiung turns to your bedside table, almost reaching out to turn off your lampshade when he stops to see an abnormally neon yellow sticky note stuck on the wall above that read in bold ink: ‘presentation monday morning’

the presentation.

oh god, you both have to do the presentation tomorrow at 8am.

fuck.

[1:47] kyo: y/n where’d you go???

[1:49] kyo: jiung’s not here too?

[2:05] kyo: alright damn

[2:06] kyo: i get it

#📂 playerninth's library #p1harmony x reader #p1harmony smut #choi jiung smut #piwontober24 #p1h smut #jiung x reader

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bunni-v1 · 7 months ago

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Aventurine Relationship Headcannons

🍓Hello gang! I've decided to write for Aven next, because he is literally my pretty princess. I really hope you like them... I did my best and he means a lot to me. I feel like a rat rummaging through trash posting this, so I do hope you enjoy for my sake.

TW: Aventurine has very unhealthy coping mechanisms; Aventurine exhibits manipulative behaviors

Info: Aventurine x Reader; Gn!Reader; Angst; Fluff

-Ah, Mr. Aventurine. Senior manager of the IPC Strategic Investment Department. One of the Ten Stonehearts. Luckiest man alive. Ruthless gambler. That’s a lot of titles for one guy.

-You’d think someone as important as him wouldn’t have the time to fall in love, and he wouldn’t argue with you if you said that. He was a very busy person, after all, and he had so many important things to do.

-Love was a ploy made to waste your time and energy – a marketing scheme for hopeless romantics and saps, a gamble not worth taking nine times out of ten. Aventurine wasn’t stupid enough to invest in such a hopeless concept, not with the life he leads.

-Maybe if things had played out differently. If life was simpler and happier he could see a younger version of himself falling fool to the wonders of affection and sweet words.

-Unfortunately, he was not that imaginary boy. He was Aventurine of the IPC, and his time was money that he couldn’t waste on frivolous things like love.

-Affections and gifts were tools of manipulation to be used to gain what you wanted. A pretty smile, a few honeyed words, and an expensive set of earrings were nothing more than tactics to further whatever plan he’s cooked up for the week.

-That’s just how the world was. Cold and uncaring, who was he to deny the natural processes of his business line?

-So, no, Aventurine was not interested in romance.

-...Kakavasha though… Kakavasha was still that little starry-eyed boy who craved love. A boy who fantasized about someone who understood him, who would love him for him, scars and all.

-Kakavasha wanted a partner to waste all his time, to be an excuse to spend the excess of money he didn’t know what to do with, to hold him and whisper sweet words into his ears in the quiet of his luxury apartment.

-He was not a hopeless romantic, at least, he didn’t think he was. He just craved love that he hadn’t felt since he was a little boy. He wanted to love and be loved more than anything else in the world.

-Unfortunately for Kakavasha, Aventurine was the one in control. He didn’t get to have a say in what he wanted, because Aventurine knew what was best for himself even if it was miserable.

-He couldn’t fall in love in the way he wanted, so he simply wouldn’t ever fall in love so long as he jaded his views and ignored others' affections that were anything more than skin deep. No soft spots, nothing.

-Ah, but then there was you. Blinking at him with those pretty eyes, Aventurine felt like he needed to slam his head through a few walls to get the image out of his head.

-Sweet, playful, funny, pretty, perfect you. You made his head all fuzzy and his chest impossibly tight.

-It was sickening, the effect you had on him. Not that you had a clue, with the masterful poker face he puts on around you.

-He tried avoiding you for a week, which was miserable for him because all he could think about was how much he wished he could see you again. What the hell had you done to him? He’s never one to fold so easily, and will stronger than any other person in the planetary system. Yet you…

-Ugh, and when you came to his office with that pout asking why he was avoiding you. Your jutted little lip was so distracting that he almost couldn’t come up with a proper lie to smooth the situation over.

-He was so obsessed, but he could not be obsessed. Not to this degree. He couldn’t let another person in and lose them, he couldn’t get hurt again.

-Still, he can’t stop himself from teasing you. The playful replies to anything you say are genuine and full of affection. The light touches, the brushing of your fingers against him. The thoughtful gifts with too gentle words attached to them.

-That was Kakavasha, certainly so. He couldn’t help himself but indulge in you. Not with how tempting you were, with how he could so easily see that you wanted him too. He wanted to live in a fantasy just a little longer.

-The feeling literally haunts his dreams. Wholesome, romantic dates interrupted by horrible night terrors of you dying in his arms. All because you were connected to him.

-After nightmares like that, he pulls away again. Aventurine remembers why he can’t take the plunge, for both of your sakes. He couldn’t possibly share himself with someone, not in the way you would want him to. He couldn’t possibly stomach the idea of putting a target on your back just by calling you his.

-So, he refuses to let it happen until you warm him up and melt his heart again.

-It’s a brutal cycle of push and pull with him, and it could go on and on and on if you allow it to. He certainly was content with it, because it was the easiest way to go about things like this.

-You can’t tell what the hell is going on in his head, but you know that it isn’t healthy. It’s very clear that he feels the same way you do, but he always slams the door in your face just before you step into the warmth waiting inside.

-You’ll have to confront him if you want anything to get done, and it isn’t pretty. He does not take well to sudden confrontations over things that he so carefully crafted. He doesn’t like it when the world that he built up so painstakingly collapses and reveals the reality around him.

-He’ll pull away fully from you, avoiding you like the plague because Aventurine cannot allow himself to fall in love. He wouldn’t be capable of loving someone as wonderful as you, not the way you deserve.

-Show patience, be steadfast, and don’t give up on him no matter how many times he pushes you to the side. It’s hard for him to pretend like you don’t exist, it hurts him more than it hurts you.

-Eventually… he’ll break. He’ll show up unannounced, looking far more disheveled than you’ve ever seen him, and he’ll apologize. It’s so out of character for him, it even startles him a bit, but he couldn’t live without your warmth.

-And so begins your relationship with Aventurine.

-It is not an easy relationship to have, and I’m not going to delude anyone into thinking anything other than that. There are highs and lows with him, like waves on a beach he’ll push you out just to pull you back in.

-To start, let's talk about the lows because they’re hard but they’re so important to get through with him.

-He has such a difficult time accepting that he’s worthy of being loved, and it manifests as him shutting you out. If he treats you poorly, if he makes you hate him, he doesn’t have to live with the guilt of fooling you into loving someone like him.

-He’ll ghost you for days, won’t answer his phone, or if he does it’s short and cold. You’ll be alone worrying about his wellbeing, what’s wrong with him, why is he so upset at you all of a sudden.

-Then he’ll show up and act like nothing is wrong because he really cannot live without you. If you ask, he won’t answer and instead dance around the subject.

-It’s another thing you’ll have to be patient about. Just handle it with care and show that you aren’t leaving, despite his very self-destructive behavior, and it’ll melt away at his cold exterior like usual.

-He’ll come to you after another long period where he wasn’t speaking to you, no apology flowers, no sly smile, no intent to woo you again. Just him, vulnerable and honest. He asks you why? Why do you stay, why do you still care, why do you let him treat you like that?

-Once you explain it’s because you love him, and you know he’s struggling so hard, and you want to help him be better… he cries. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him do so, and it’s such a horrible expression that just does not belong on his face.

-To his credit, after your heart-to-heart, he steadily improves this behavior. It still happens occasionally, but it’s shorter, and he’s more receptive to you if you reach out to him during these low periods.

-They never truly go away, but they lessen and lessen and turn into a period where he doesn’t avoid you, but he tells you he just needs time.

-That’s the key point in your relationship that he struggles with communicating. Once you start to break through that barrier and he tells you how he’s feeling, things get so much better for both of you.

-He realizes through your patience that he is someone that someone sees is worth loving, and it makes it easier for him to share his love with you.

-The highs aren’t exactly good either. He’s usually manic when he’s at these high points, and he’s very much love-bombing you the whole time.

-Lavish gifts that you wouldn’t even think to ask for, ones that you absolutely could not turn down – he wouldn’t let you, or else he’d get upset and make you feel bad.

-Constant compliments and flirting, most of which didn’t feel genuine. It’s like he’s faking affection, copying things he saw in movies and on the streets in hopes that you’ll believe he means them.

-He’s selling you on loving him in these highs. Like a business venture, going all in all at once and hoping you’ll take the deal. Hoping you’ll be satisfied with what he’s trying to portray himself as.

-It’s not a sustainable model, it’s rather exhausting to constantly put up walls around someone who he so desperately wanted to know. You get tired of it quickly, and he has to shake it up to keep you happy and interested.

-Despite how he acts, he couldn’t bear it if you left him.

-Once you get through to him with communication, his walls slowly come down, and you get to see the real Aventurine – you get to see Kakavasha. Get to feel how he wants to love you, how he wants to be loved by you.

-It’s not all at once, of course, because he could never let someone in so easily. But over some time, you see more and more glimpses of who he is behind all the glitz and glam and smirks. Let's get into that, shall we?

-He is a gift giver, I don’t think there’s any world where he isn’t. The gifts now, though, are so heartfelt and thoughtful. He quite literally slaves over them, spending hours of his precious time ensuring everything is exactly as you might want it.

-I’m talking about extremely rare limited edition copies of your favorite books, custom-made sets of anything you want, and so many clothes. Most of which have some kind of motif of his, because he quite likes seeing you in things that show off that you are his.

-By the way, he’s a very jealous person, which is another big issue in the relationship. He doesn’t like sharing your attention with other people, at all. He gets jealous of his friends.

-People he otherwise wouldn’t have an issue with become the subject of his ire so long as you’re giving them more attention than him.

-Oh, and he’s so incredibly insufferable about it too. He’ll sidle up to you, pulling you in close by your hip, and smirk at whoever the offender is. Amps up the pet names to an annoying degree, making it very clear that he’s not pleased.

-He expects you to be very apologetic (not really), and give him a million apology kisses once you’re alone together again. If you don’t he’ll pout.

-That’s on the harmless side of things. On the… less pleasant side he’ll probably make their life miserable until he chases them away from you – how miserable depends on just how�� affectionate he takes them to be with you.

-Aventurine is also a nickname giver, and 90% of them are inconsistent and don’t stick. The ones he seems to like the most are doll, dollface, dearest (when he’s being an annoying little shit), and my heart.

-Unfortunately, PDA isn’t an option for him, as much as he’d love it to be. He’s a celebrity, essentially, and people would be very interested in you if they saw you at his side. He’s keeping you safe from prying eyes by keeping PDA to a minimum.

-He can get away with it in casinos because having a pretty thing sit on your lap as a ‘good luck charm’ isn’t uncommon, but in most public areas the most he can do is stand close to you.

-It’s to protect you, of course, because he does have targets on his back. As such a high-standing member of the IPC, it’s no shock that he does. However, he knows that people will try and use you to get to him, and he’s trying to nip that in the bud before it can become an issue.

-You and work are very separate parts of his life, and he likes it that way. Very few people within the IPC are aware he’s in a relationship, the only ones being those who caught him being affectionate with you around his office – who he very happily dealt with to keep them quiet. Or… are Topaz and inevitably Jade.

-Other than that, though, you are part of his personal life, and work has nothing to do with you. At all.

-Ah, but he is so endlessly affectionate with you in private. He loves to just hold you, feel you against him, and assure himself that you are there. You are real and you love him like he loves you.

-He loves to litter your face with kisses after a long day of work, the way you fluster and try to run from his persistent lips is enough to make his heart race.

-His favorite thing, though, is slow dancing with you. It doesn’t matter if you’re clumsy, there is something so wholly domestic and soft about swaying to music in the soft glow of the kitchen light.

-Once he learns to accept love from you, he becomes addicted to it like a drug. He’ll sit there and pout at you until you give him kisses or love on him to his satisfaction. He can’t help it, he loves your attention.

-He’s so very attentive, even when he has other things he needs to do. If he needs to work, he’ll hold you in his lap while he works, and if you distract him a little that's okay too. He doesn’t mind so long as it’s you.

-He treats you like royalty, honestly. You are so very important to him, and he’s very desperate to prove that to you. If you felt unloved (after he improves upon himself, of course) by him, it would kill him. You are one of the very few things in the world that are unequivocally his, he wants to treat you like you are so you know it.

-He reveals a vulnerability to you that no one else gets to see. A soft side that isn’t hiding behind smirks and sly comments. He is the closest to being just Kakavasha when he is with you.

-Now, it will take him a long time to share his past with you. Even after he learns to trust you, it’s a piece of him that he cradles close to his chest, terrified it would change your view of him.

-When he does share it with you, though, it’s the most vulnerable he will ever be with you. His hand is clenched tightly behind his back, and he is shaking with eyes that can’t quite find a place to land. The only thing that calms him is the warm touch of your hand on his shaking one.

-He’ll tell you details little by little because they’re horrifying, and dumping them all on you at once would be too much for both of you. But you learn about him over time, and you see him warm up more and more to you the more he tells you.

-Goodness, though, the first time you call him Kakavasha, he cries. He cries so very hard because he hasn’t heard that name said with love and affection in such a long time, and it’s hard to imagine that it could be real.

-But it is and you’re holding his face and kissing away his tears, and it’s then that he realizes that he is truly loved by you. He is a person who is worth loving and capable of giving love to someone as wonderful as you.

-It is a kindness he has never been afforded before, and he would fight to his last breath to protect it.

-Despite the rocky start to your relationship, he grows and changes and learns how to love and be loved. It is the kind of love that Kakavasha has always wanted, and Aventurine finally understood why.

#bunni's treats 🧁#aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #x reader

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juniperss · 1 year ago

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Soft!Dallas Winston Headcanons

A/N: This was originally written on my main account a few years ago but I decided to move it here since I don't change this URL as often and it makes easier to find my writing! A/N 2: It's been a while since I wrote these so I'd like to think that I've improved somewhat since then!

Dally isn't new to winning girls over, how to get them to blush and feel like they swallowed a butterfly, but he is new to expressing genuine softness. It takes the right person to warm him up and get his tough exterior to melt and takes very little for that wall to be built back up. It's foreign to him on so many levels that he's not sure if he's doing right so be prepared for him to fumble a bit (though he won't ever admit that he fumbled anything).

He's not really scared of PDA and actually takes a lot of pride in showing you off. Full on kisses, butt tap/slaps (feel free to return those btw), and wrapping his arm around your waist acts as both a warning/display that you are is his partner, but also allows him to keep you close by him. He tells you later into the relationship that having you next to him acts like an anchor, you keep that in mind now.

However softer forms of PDA do make him slightly uncomfortable such as temple kisses, holding hands, cuddling, etc. He likes (and needs) to maintain his “tough greaser” exterior and those softer moments don't go hand in hand with it. So if anyone besides the gang is around he's pretty guarded.

If you play with boy's hair he's going to die a little. At the end of the day when he plops down onto the couch at the Curtis's and leans his head onto the back of couch, you run your fingers through his locks you can physically feel him melt into the cushions. There's something about the tugging of his hair, your fingers scratching his scalp while listening to you talk to the guys makes him feel secure.

Dally is basically a cat in a sense; he's very selective in who he likes, really doesn't seek out affection and isn't super keen on showing that he likes it, but he's not going to complain if YOU are the one who initiates it. He might pretend to be annoyed if the gang teases him but does he pull away his hand away from yours as you lace your fingers together? Hell no!

While we're on the topic of hand holding.....this boy has soft hands? Even with the work he does and all the fights he gets into, he somehow manages to keep his hands softer than expected. They're strong though and usually covered with bruises and the occasional cuts he acquires from various fights and scrapes he finds himself in.

The first time you helped him take care of his cut up knuckles he couldn't stop watching you. You can bet your ass he was flirting with you the entire time you were gathering the disinfectant and band aides but the moment you actually took his one hand in both of yours he shut up and stared. Had that dumb puppy dog look in his eyes that you found incredibly distracting to the point you had to ask him to stop it (he won't let you ever live that down)

Really really realllllyyyyyy loves if you hold one of his hands in both of yours. He thinks it's cute? And no he doesn't know why.

Has and will fall asleep on you at any given moment if you are seated next to him. In the car regardless if the gang is there or if it's just the two of you, on the couch, on the floor, if you're tucked into the booth in an empty diner. Probably has dozed off while you two hung out at the junkyard one night

Is the type of boyfriend who climbs through your window instead of just knocking on your front door. He might claim it's because your parents don't like him (might be true), but he just likes the look on your face when you see him tapping on the glass.

Please for the love of god let this boy be the little spoon. Dally really is a loner and besides the gang he's been alone for quite a while. He's emotionally guarded and lacked the support he needed growing up to show that it's okay to talk about his emotions. So one his bad days he gets angry, doesn't really know how to express that other than getting into fights whether those are physical, verbal, or both. At the end of the bad day, once he's patched up and calmed down, he just wants to lay down with you and feel you wrap your arms around him and press your chest against his back.

#dally winston #dally winston x reader #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #my writing #my writings

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redvexillum · 1 year ago

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CHAPTER ONE

A/N: I didn't anticipate writing a Vox x Reader story (much less a raunchy, BDSM theme smut). But, I needed to get this idea out of my head so I can focus on my request and my other stories. So, here we are. Also, I've noticed there is a distressingly low number of PURE Vox x Reader stories, so I wanted to contribute to the database.

Though, I apologize if my version of Vox is lacking in any way. I have made many creative liberties with my head canon version of him.

Inspired by this post/conversation with the lovely miss @redfoxwritesstuff

07.09.24 - Now that I know where I'm going with this story, I have changed the title from [Short Fuse] to Signal.

SUMMARY: You royally pissed someone off because you were receiving anonymous hate emails for the past fifteen years. How incredibly petty and...entertaining. At first, you decided to ignore them but as their hate comments got increasingly creative, the more you couldn't help but add oil to the burning, passionate flame of their hatred towards you.

Until one day, the mysterious anonymous hater (probably) accidentally revealed themselves to be the one and only TV demon, an Overlord and CEO of everything technological and modern.

WARNING/TAGS: f!reader, toxic relationship, enemies to f*ck buddies to something indescribable, dom/sub undertone, sub!Vox, dom!reader, reader is a responsible dom, Vox takes a lot of L's but he secretly enjoys it, dual POV, Vox tries to be hip but ends up being a boomer, Reader is sexually liberal and confident, Vox is the brattiest sub you will ever find, kind of fluff if your squint

“Hello, my Sexy Peeps! How are you doing on this hellish day?” A melodious burst of laughter chimed from Vox’s phone. He took a dramatic sip from his coffee, savouring the rich, dark brew, and settled into his plush armchair, preparing to lose himself in her latest video.

“Today, I thought I’d mix things up a bit due to a very popular request!” She continued and leaned forward in front of the camera, giving Vox a generous view of her cleavage. He approved her outfit choice for today, a tight-fitting cyan blue tank top with a plunging v-neckline.

But aside from her attire, he was interested by her supposedly “new” content. He didn’t know she took requests from her viewers. Intrigued, he arched an eyebrow, setting his cup down on the side table and leaning his face closer to his phone.

The newest online sensation on VoxTube was about to begin. This girl had seemingly materialized out of nowhere, drawing tens of thousands of views and subscribers to her channel. Her retention rates were astoundingly high for content so banal and ordinary. Initially, Vox had suspected his network had been hacked.

He still couldn’t quite grasp how in seven layers of Hell she had managed to manipulate the algorithm with her simple videos. All she did was try the newest foods around the Pentagram and review random merchandise in a phenomenon called “unboxing.”

His gaze inevitably wandered to the deep trench of cleavage she prominently displayed. He scoffed. He’d seen better. After all, his partner controlled the porn industry in Hell.

Yet, that didn’t stop him from pausing her video sometimes, openly staring at her chest for a few seconds… or minutes…or maybe he may have saved a couple (several) screenshots of her video and her photos from her Sinstagram account. Perhaps he might have even saved some of her more salacious-looking photos on his internal hard drive for private viewing.

All for research, of course.

“Now, I know there’s this series – the longest-running series in all of Hell…” she trailed off, her plump, pretty lips curling into a mischievous smirk.

Vox straightened in his chair, feeling the first flutter of excitement in his chest. Could it be? Was she going to mention his most prized project, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” for free?

Excitement surged within him, a giddy thrill that this lame, greenhorn, no-name nobody was about to mention his series to her 2.5 million (and growing) viewers.

“Guys, guys, guys,” she laughed, raising her perfectly manicured hands in the air as if in surrender. “I watched the first season and wow–”

Vox pressed his thighs together, waiting with bated breath for what he hoped would be a glowing review. Perhaps he should contact her, reach out, sponsor her like all the tiny, insignificant, worthless, businesses were doing.

“I gotta tell you,” She shrugged, raised her immaculate trimmed brow, and with a hearty guffaw, said, “it’s pretty mid.”

Disbelief washed over him as he stared at the screen. Instinctively, Vox paused the video, staring at the freeze-frame image of her with a large smile dancing across her lips.

Mid? Mid? What the fuck did mid even mean?

Scrutinizing the word in his mind, he thought maybe she had given his series an average score. Average. He could work with average. But judging from the comments filled with those annoying crying laughing emojis and agreement that it was bad, he realized it was another piece of slang from this decade that he somehow missed.

Power surged through his head as his mind dove into the database, and he opened his trusty Urban Hell Dictionary.

The definition of Mid was…

Below average.

Not good.

Mediocre.

Boring.

“WHHHHAT?” He roared, his voice glitching in between the long-drawn-out word. Springing up from his chair, he picked up his mug before hurling it against the polished floor. It shattered into a cascade of jagged pieces, their sharp lines reminiscent of crooked, mocking smiles. The hot coffee splashed onto the hem of his pants, its sudden heat mirroring the fury rising within him.

Memories surged through him, back to when he was alive, back when they cancelled him for not being innovative enough, for not being entertaining enough, for being…

Being….

Boring.

His eyes twitched, electricity crackled and jolted up in arcs across the surface of his head before fizzling out at the points of the antennas from his hat.

He should kill her. Get Val to make her disappear or force her into working at his porn studio. How dare she call the fruits of his labour…b-bo-… He seethed, unable to even say the damn, blasted word.

Vox thought of a thousand ways to torment her, relishing the idea of making her cry with her below-average, not good, mediocre, BORING looking face. Anger surged, boiled, in his veins, and he did what he knew was the best course of action when faced with this unprecedented insult.

After all, with VoxTek, he had an image to keep of being on the side of the lowly Sinners. He chuckled, forced, but chuckled, nonetheless. It would smear his good image to go after some small, nobody of a Sinner. After all, he was an Overlord and the CEO of the largest corporation in all the five fucking points of the Pentagram.

She was going to get so cancelled.

That he would make sure of.

Humming a random, jaunty little tune, you shut off the ring light and closed your laptop. Stretching your back, you sighed in satisfaction as your bones gave a gratifying crack. You giggled at some comments from your review of the popular series, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!”

There were passionate defences claiming the series was a work of art, which was far-reaching at best. It was mildly entertaining enough to watch while you painted your nails. Seriously, the show looked like it was produced for the audience in the 1950s.

You were the first influencer to give a poor rating to the TV series, and being first meant more controversy, more views, and more money from sponsorships as you rose to the trending list once again.

Damn, gaming the system was the best. Truly, Hell was way behind its time compared to what people did for views back when you were alive.

Following your routine, you washed away the makeup, changed from your tight-fitting clothes into a loose T-shirt and sweatpants, and laid on your king-sized bed that was far too big for one person. Staring up at the ceiling, you were surrounded by the void of your loneliness.

You should…go out and fuck someone.

Preferably, someone related to the entertainment industry. All that juicy gossip about your newest fling always raked in views and clicks.

But the idea fizzled and died as you thought about having to play the submissive role, feeding their giant egos to compensate for their shit-sized cocks. You considered visiting the BDSM club, but influential people were rarely found out in the open in those shops. There was probably a private club that you weren’t invited to…yet.

Vain.

Empty.

Nothing.

It didn’t change much, did it? Whether you were alive or damned.

Everything about your life was the same.

Sitting up, you grabbed your phone and started to scroll through Voxazon, frivolously spending thousands of Hell bucks on useless crap.

Retail therapy.

The tried-and-true method to stave off depression and apathy.

You were ready for that dopamine hit as you read through the reviews of the latest dildo models, your lips pulling into a sly smirk at all the new features of VoxTek’s newest sex toy.

A chime resounded from your phone – a notification from your personal email. Your brows raised as the sender was from [email protected]

Confused, you opened the email, wincing at the possibility of infecting your device with a virus. But that thought quickly vanished as you read the email’s content.

Subject: (no subject) Dear Bitch, Retract that fucking review about “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” from your video today, or you will regret it. Furthermore, you have a “mid” face, and so are your boobs. Your boobs are super fucking mid. You probably get MORE views if you actually covered your boobs because that’s how MID they are. And all your videos are MID. Especially the one you posted on July 7, 20XX, where you reviewed the Hellover drink. The one where you wore that shitty neon green tank top, which, by the way, is also fucking MID. Anyway, this is my FIRST and LAST warning. Fuck you. P.S. Seriously. Fuck you.

Your eyes slowly blinked, once, twice, before a hearty, genuine laugh erupted from you. Oh my God. Did this prick actually hack your account to get your personal email to send such a shitty, lame-ass message?

Breaths coming out in short, uneven huffs, you rolled over on your bed from side to side, clutching your stomach. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard. You hadn’t laughed this genuinely since you fell to Hell.

As your eyes traced over the words of their message, you laughed out loud again. It looked like you had a butt-hurt superfan.

Humming, you rolled over onto your stomach and kicked your feet idly as you stared at the message. “Thanks for the laugh, virgin prick,” you whispered, planting a loud smooch on your cellphone screen. “Annnnd, delete!” Your index finger daintily tapped the trash can icon.

Now, back to the task at hand. You debated between getting the glittery pink dildo or the two prong dildo. Tilting your head, you decided you deserved a treat, so you ordered both.

As you were purchasing more random crap, your eyes glazed over, your mind fervently thinking of what to say for your next season review for that TV series. Just then, an annoying ad popped up – of course, from VoxTek – promoting their shitty Cobra vibrator. Seriously, you tried it, and it did nothing for you.

An idea rapidly formed, growing until you jumped out of bed and ran to your laptop. No one had truly (and honestly) reviewed some of VoxTek’s terrible sex toys yet. In fact, you noticed that every single review for their sex toy line had glowing five-star ratings.

Now, some of their toys were outstanding, making you come so hard until you were sobbing, soaking your underwear from your release. But that was one out of every five toys you purchased. Like all massive corporations, VoxTek was clearly buying reviews, giving themselves perfect scores.

Perhaps it was time to change that.

Your review of the series and the anonymous hate message were soon quickly forgotten. This was your chance to shake things up, to give the unfiltered, raw truth that your viewers craved.

With a determined glint in your eyes, you started drafting your next video script. This was going to be huge, bigger than Jerry’s dick from last week, that was for sure.

NEXT ->

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interastical · 1 year ago

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Another Phighting writing account??YAYYAYYAYAYAY

can you do yan!Subspace x former assassin!reader (reader is gender neutral!). The reader was from Blackrock but ran away and uhh Subspace kinda found them again.. oneshot please!

(I stole this request from someone because the other writer hasnt update for a while and I am in desperate need of fanfics.. thank youu!)

sorry for taking so long on requests! i've got a good handful in my inbox now and since i got a lot of my assignments out of the way, i can start working on these ahaha

requests are also still open! please feel free to send some my way in my inbox :)

aanyways, thank u for being so patient!!! here we go

tw - yandere themes, kidnapping, drugging, semi-realistic violence

˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖

♡ YAN ! SUBSPACE X READER ♡

˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖

Your life at BLACKROCK was -- to put it bluntly, a living hell.

Your entire life, all you ever knew from the moment you entered this world and were shipped off to that horrid faction, was violence, war, weaponry, and murder.

You were trained to hurt people. Hurt demons who dared try to question Blackrock. Those who tried to flee, to escape the freezing confines of the place.

Rules were strictly abided to at Blackrock. Make one mistake -- consider yourself a goner. The best outcome was you being thrown in prison, the worst outcome was being slaughtered publicly.

You were made to abide by the rules and silence those who made the smallest of mistakes.

Nobody ever thought you'd break the rules one day yourself.

So when you one day disappeared, having vanished off the face of the Inpherno, Blackrock believed you were a goner.

That was far from the truth.

You knew the ins and outs of the faction, making your escape was relatively easy -- a cakewalk.

As an assassin, you specialized in stealth, speed, and agility. Maneuvering past guards and treading through freezing cold blizzards did not falter your escape in the slightest.

And when you were finally out, taking a deep breath of the fresher, evenly temperature air, you believed to be in the clear, as long as you managed to keep a life of anonymity, what could go wrong?

And you were right -- everything was fine.

Until one day, when mindlessly watching a PHIGHT, you noticed a familiar face participating in the round.

Subspace T. Mine.

You felt your heart stop in the moment.

Back in Blackrock, the two of you hardly had any form of connection. Rarely spoke to one another, as the two of you were on completely different fields of work.

His rambles about discovery and science nonsense made no sense to you. His work partner - Medkit, seemed constantly annoyed by the guy's presence as well.

You always talked to Hyperlaser more often. You still occasionally met up with him and Katana to go out for drinks in Crossroads -- as Hyperlaser was your only friend from Blackrock who swore to keep your existence a secret to that awful, awful faction.

But you did always take note of how Subspace.. stared at you often, whenever the two of you did manage to encounter one another back in Blackrock.

You remember constantly asking him if he needed something, and he'd whip out some awful excuse, saying how he was just "focusing on something next to you" or "staring off into space".

Yet, he always did it often. It got on your nerves.

The guy was .. a little weird. It's no wonder you constantly avoided him.

But Subspace... knew everything about you. Unbeknownst to you.

He'd often send a Biograft to just .. watch as you worked in Blackrock. He was so utterly captivated by the way you'd wipe out any filthy traitors with a single swipe of your blade.

You were so.. powerful -- flawless, perfect.

Subspace wanted everything you had.

Subspace wanted you.

The way their blood would hit your face, your stoic expression unchanged at their screams and cries -- as you silenced them with ease.

He so badly wanted to talk to you. But he could never find the courage to do so, despite his greatness, talking to you was his only flaw.

Medkit was often forced to listen to his constant rambles about you, often tuning it out and focusing on crystal studies.

But oh -- did Subspace just want to bring you in, set you down and tear you open, digging around at your inner workings, watching as your blood would stain his skin.

He needed you.

So when you disappeared, Subspace was devastated.

His work became sloppy, slower, and his emotions became violent.

Medkit suffered the consequences of his outbursts.

Nothing was never enough. Not without you. He needed to see you again -- even if you were some lifeless, rotting corpse in the midst of a blizzard, or if you were out there somewhere, he needed to find you.

So when he felt eyes on him during a PHIGHT match that he'd found himself participating in, he turned his head.

And he saw you.

You looked different. Your appearance was different, but it did not change the fact that your face was the same.

He found you.

The match? Subspace didn't care about some stupid bux anymore. You instantly clouded his mind. Thoughts of you, your face, your skills, your expression -- everything.

He could hardly hold back the manic laughter bubbling in his chest, rising to his throat.

Subspace had found you.

And he wasn't going to lose you again.

Walking home to your apartment in Crossroads late that night was no unusual activity for you. After saying your goodbyes to Hyperlaser and Katana, you strolled down the empty sidewalk, your apartment building only a few blocks away.

The sounds of crickets in the distance, the soft breeze of the night and the lack of any demons around was rather peaceful for you.

Thoughts of seeing Subspace again had almost completely left your mind, the soft buzz of alcohol from drinking earlier had you a little more careless.

But the sudden rustle of a bush from not far behind you shattered the relaxation you were undergoing, as you froze.

As a trained assassin in the past, you had high reflexes. Any slight noise off in the distance; you were trained to take note of, and prepare to defend yourself.

The night grew still.

You swore you heard quick footsteps.

Multiple footsteps. Two people, max.

One sounded.. normal. The other sounded heavier.

Something wasn't right here.

You quickly took a few steps back, not taking your eyes off of the bushes behind you, your dominant hand moving to reach for your gear so that you could summon it--

You were suddenly yanked backwards by cold, rough, metallic hands wrapping around your waist, locking your arms to your sides.

It wasn't a demon's skin that you felt from your assailant.

" TARGET ACQIRED. "

You knew those voices.

Biografts.

A Biograft was holding you still.

" PLEASE DO NOT ATTEMPT TO RESIST. "

You ignored the bucket of bolts, slamming your head back onto the robot's in hopes to damage it enough for it to loosen its grip, allowing you to escape.

As you felt the arms around you begin to loosen, a figure suddenly ran in front of you.

You felt a sharp pinch in your neck.

You screamed.

Not out of pain, you were trained to have a high pain tolerance.

But you weren't an idiot. You were clearly getting kidnapped -- and you'd most likely just got some kind of injection.

A cold hand covered your mouth.

"..shh, shh." a familiar voice -- slightly muffled underneath a mask, spoke. "Don't scream, beloved. I only gave you a small pinch!"

The demon in front of you -- you recognized him instantly with horror.

Subspace.

You -- how -- he actually noticed you earlier?!

You noticed your vision growing foggier and foggier - your brain turning into mush as comprehending thoughts became harder and harder.

no no no no noononono

You felt Subspace move his hand away from your mouth and over towards your cheek, softly caressing it with his thumb.

"Don't panic." Subspace reassured -- his voice becoming quieter and quieter, sounding farther off into the distance as your consciousness was quickly deteriorating. "I'll take good care of you."

The last thing you felt was being slowly lifted up by the Biograft - and your world faded to darkness.

#phighting x reader #subspace x reader #x reader #x reader oneshot #my writings

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drtwit · 1 month ago

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Miraculous Menaces/World On Fire Characters Meeting

Editing the next World on Fire chapter, I was thinking about the contrast between my two fics again, more specifically the characters meeting their alternate selves, and I realized that it'd basically be this:

WF!Marinette: I may or may not have had a hand in causing the end of the world, my lies tore apart the lives of everyone I care about, and my only constant ally is my nemesis who is a coin flip away from choking out innocent people. MM!Marinette: Wow, that sounds terrible. I don't know how I'd cope with that. I lost the miracle box, and I'm still struggling to manage it. WF!Marinette: Hey, if I've learned anything from my years of being Ladybug, it's that you're always gonna find dead ends. You just have to be willing to turn back and try another path. MM!Marinette: R-Right, I'll remember that. Thanks. WF!Marinette: You're a great Ladybug already, I'm sure. Just, uh, try not to become a control freak, okay? It never turns out well. MM!Marinette: *Writing this all down* Oh, yeah, one question? WF!Marinette: Shoot. MM!Marinette: How'd you deal with your drug addiction? WF!Marinette: ... WF!Marinette: Girl, you don't even have Monarch in your universe, what the fuck happened?!

WF!Gabriel: What is that outfit? MM!Gabriel: It's a suit, it looks just like the one you used to wear. WF!Gabriel: That is not a suit! You look like you're wearing pyjamas. At least unbutton it! MM!Gabriel: I'm supposed to take this from the man modelling for the 'Homeless Christmas Elf' collection? WF!Gabriel: It was the only material we had on hand. Besides, our future daughter- I mean, nemesis made it for me. It would be rude to throw it away. MM!Gabriel: Daughter? You have another child? Does that mean Emilie returns to us after all? WF!Gabriel: What? No, I was talking about- Never mind. WF!Gabriel: By the way, have you told Adrien yet? MM!Gabriel: About Mayura? No, I don't think that's quite any of his buisness. WF!Gabriel: Mayura? What happened with Nathalie? MM!Gabriel: What does Nathalie have to do with me kissing Mayura? WF!Gabriel: ...There is a lot to process there, but I was talking about if Adrien knows about Hawkmoth; about your mission. MM!Gabriel: Of course he knows about Hawkmoth, Chat Noir is my partner. WF!Gabriel: ... MM!Gabriel: Is he not in your univ- MM!Gabriel: *Gasp* What have you been doing to my son!? WF!Gabriel: ...I have a list, but I'm pretty sure I won't leave this room alive if I read it.

MM!Lila: What the hell happened to my face? WF!Lila: Believe me, it looks worse than it actually is. MM!Lila: You literally look like you decomposing. WF!Lila: Look, nobody said drinking demon juice was gonna be pretty- MM!Lila: Is that what that purple sludge thing coming out of you is? Why are you drinking that?! WF!Lila: It came with the butterfly miraculous, turns out it was cursed. MM!Lila: I get the feeling everything about you is cursed. WF!Lila: Hey, it's not that bad. It comes with perks. I get all these cool abilities, I can torture all the people I hate, there's some minor brain damage and a lot of voices in my head. It even came with a free Dad! MM!Lila: ...Please tell me that he's not the giant oaf in the dumb cowboy hat. WF!Lila: He's not bad once you get to know him! MM!Lila: Whatever you say. WF!Lila: Hey, it's better than having no family at all. How are those three mothers who pay you to stop bothering them? MM!Lila: It sucks, but at the end of the day, I'm famous, everybody loves me, I'm starting to trust regular people again, and I have a best friend who has my back no matter what. And I'm not a rotting corpse trying to end all of existence. What have you got? WF!Lila: ... WF!Lila: Have you slept with Adrien? MM!Lila: No? I'm not really attracted to hi- WF!Lila: HA! I win.

WF!Adrien: Do you need a hug? MM!Adrien: ...Do you need a hug? WF!Adrien: Sorry, it's just... WF!Adrien: You're working with Father in this universe, right? That can't be easy. MM!Adrien: Yeah, Dad can be a real pain sometimes. He's so embarrassing on the group chat. WF!Adrien: Father's on a group chat? MM!Adrien: With the other miraculous holders. Honestly, I think we opened Pandora's box. It's hard to eat dinner when he's sitting across from you, angrily ranting about a meme Ladybug sent him. WF!Adrien: Y-You have dinner with Father? Regularly? MM!Adrien: True, the small talk still needs work, but I'm just happy we seem to be healing finally. WF!Adrien: That sounds... nice. MM!Adrien: It's dangerous work, and we've both almost gotten killed... Mostly because I'm as reckless and impulsive as him. But it's probably the most we've ever bonded. WF!Adrien: I wish I could have gotten to see that before he died. Things were at the worst between us when he... When he and Marinette... MM!Adrien: Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to rub salt in the wound. WF!Adrien: It's fine. I'm happy to know that there's at least one universe where it seems to be working out for us. MM!Adrien: Hey, never say never. With all the crazy stuff happening, your Hawkmoth might get a second chance to make things right. WF!Adrien: Yeah, but the bigger miracle will be if he actually takes that chance. MM!Adrien: Pft, I know it. Even my dad is still a work in progress, and boy is he doing it under protest. WF!Adrien: Tell me that him and Nathalie are at least finally a thing. MM!Adrien: I've been trying, man! But he just won't budge on it, and now this dad-stealing-homewrecker, Mayura, keeps slobbering over him. I've been trying to beat her off with a stick, but there's only so much I can do! WF!Adrien: ... MM!Adrien: What? WF!Adrien: Can I have that hug now? MM!Adrien: I got you, man.

MM!Nathalie: ...Do I even want to know? WF!Nathalie: No, you do not. MM!Nathalie: Well, on my side, I got to kiss Gabriel, and I think Adrien might have called me mom. WF!Nathalie: I'm gonna go and find a cliff to jump off of.

WF!Alya: I've lost my best friend, had my face mauled by my teammate, my relationship is breaking down, I can't trust anyone any more, the world's gonna end and I'm gonna be akumatized by akuma satan and become a SIlent Hill demon. Literally nothing can be worse than this. *Turns to the left, spots MM!Chloe kissing MM!Nino.* *Turns to the right, spots MM!Alya flirting with MM!Volpina.* WF!Alya: This timeline was a mistake.

WF!Tomoe: This is unacceptable. MM!Tomoe: Oh my, is that how I used to look? WF!Tomoe: I'm a Tsuguri, I'm the leading mind in robotics and a cornerstone of the industry. The main villains are literally using my company to fund and develop all the technology for their master plan. AND I ONLY HAVE ONE CHAPTER OF SCREENTIME!? MM!Tomoe: *Sitting on her high tech throne with her eyes healed, youth restored, two kwamis under her thumb and an entire criminal organisation to command* I believe the common mongrels would call this a 'skill issue'.

MM!Gabriel: My mentor was a master swordsman. WF!Gabriel: My mentor was practically satan. By the way, if you ever meet anyone called Salvadore, do not take the risk; take them out. MM!Gabriel: I figured out how to weaponize words. WF!Gabriel: I figured out how to imprint memories onto objects; without even wearing my miraculous. MM!Gabriel: I repress my emotions so much that Gabriel and Hawkmoth manifest as two different identities. WF!Gabriel: So do I! MM!Gabriel: I dived headfirst into a floating minefield! WF!Gabriel: I got my arm crushed to mush on live TV! MM!Gabriel: You lost your arm? WF!Gabriel: ...I got better. MM!Gabriel: I almost have a loving relationship with my son! WF!Gabriel: I have a giant lizard-dog pet that attacks people with bad vibes! MM!Gabriel: Damn it! WF!Colt: Ladies, ladies; you're both pieces of shit. Get over it.

#miraculousmenacesau #worldonfire #fanfiction #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #gabriel agreste #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #chat noir #hawkmoth #gabenath #nathalie sancoeur #mayura #lila rossi #volpina #alya cesaire #tomoe tsurugi

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cy-cyborg · 8 months ago

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I assume this is an autism thing, but why is it so hard for people to understand pain is not the biggest problem for me when medical issues come up, sensation and sensory overwhelm is.

Possibly tmi but im at the point where i dont really care anymore lol, right now I'm dealing with a really bad, chronic uti that just will not go away, no matter what anyone does, and this thing has been making my life a living hell for the last month or so. It's not painful, or well, it is, but that's not the most unpleasant effect I need help with. It's the sensations it brings. The tactile sensation of being incontinent, of feeling like I'm busting 24/7 - so much so it's stopping me from being able to sleep most nights - the fact that both these things are so ever-present that I can't concentrate on anything else. I can't do the things I enjoy like writing and drawing because my brain can not filter it out enough to focus, and it's my body, so I can't escape it like I could with an unpleasant sound or smell.

But everyone I've spoken to about it is under the impression that the pain is what needs managing, the pain is whats causing me to be so upset and not be able to concentrate or sleep, even when i say, point-blank, thats not the case. My doctor, the emergency staff who first diagnosed it (i was instructed to go there due to concerns about my kidneys), my mum and dad, my sister, even my partner, initially, though he understands now. But I've told every single one of these people that it's not pain, it's the sensory overload thats causing the problems, and they just... don't get it. Ive tried being as blunt as I can (and considering i have no energy to mask, ive been very blunt), and it just, doesn't seem to compute with anyone. My doctor is trying to help, but his only solution is pain meds until the antibiotics runs their course, which don't help because it's not pain (and yes, i tried it anyway). The emergency doctors did the same. My mum and dad keep suggesting pain management skills they were taught when I was a kid, mum is also suggesting things that make things like the burning part of UTIs less painful, my sister doesn't really have any advice but she keeps asking me about my pain too when she checks in. I appreciate the attempts and all

But it's not pain.

The only one who did get it right away was my psychologist, but she's not the kind of doctor that can really help with this, outside of giving me suggestions for coping mechanisms and how to redirect stimming/meltdowns to be less destructive or harmful. Which is great and I did need that, but I'd really like to not be having the meltdowns in the first place.

This isn't the first time this has been an issue either, but it has been the worst/longest time. I just don't know how to get it across to people that the pain is not my main problem. I know how to manage pain and make it less intense/more bearable (my whole lower body is covered in skin grafts and I've had several amputations, I have a lot of experience with it), but just because it's not pain doesn't mean its not debilitating and seriously impacting my quality of life. And because it just won't go away (i highly suspect it has become antibiotic resistant), I have no idea when this will all end, which makes it all the more worse.

#vent post #medical stuff #autism #chronically ill

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blue--ingenue · 2 years ago

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soft!sebastian headcannons - part 4

Author's Note: hello loves! i know this isn't the next chapter of 'Evasive Maneuvers' i've been promising, but i promise that's almost finished. summer classes have been ugly busy, so this one's a bit shorter than usual

on a different note, would ya'll be interested if i made a taglist for my soft!seb headcannons? i'm having a lot of fun writing these so i've decided to make this into a regular thing, posting at least once a week :)

insists on being your partner for Crossed Wands. the last time you solo dueled with someone else they managed to hit you with a nasty diffindo. it took you less than a minute to obliterate them after that, but Sebastian was livid. he knows you don’t need him to defend your honor, so he settles for hexing and jinxing them to hell and back for the next week. nothing physically harmful, but uses every embarrassing and inconvenient spell he knows. he makes sure that nobody can tell that it was him. (he secretly hopes the little shit figures out who’s hexing him, but he’s more afraid of facing your wrath if you find out he’s getting revenge for your sake)

is a very emotional drunk. once he’s had a few butterbeers, man is shouting his love for you from the rooftops. clings to you like a lost puppy for the rest of the night and pouts with eyes as big as a mooncalf’s if you so much as leave him for five minutes

isn’t toxically possessive, but will subtly assert that you’re his if someone gets too close to you for comfort. will sling an arm around you if he catches someone staring at you for too long.

he wasn’t able to keep most of his parents’ possessions after they moved to Feldcroft, but he treasures what little he does have. one of his most prized possessions is a satchel his mother enchanted to hold their most valued books. it was intended to hold research books, but Sebastian filled it with some of his favorite childhood books before he left their estate for the last time. he opens it years later and finds that his parents kept a photo album of him and Anne. it turns out they always took the bag with them when they traveled for research, and they took the album on every expedition to look at their pictures and miss them a little less

speaking of possessions he’s kept, he has his mother’s engagement ring tucked safely in his and Ominis’ shared room. his parents met as students at Hogwarts, both of them having been sorted into Slytherin. they were walking together in Hogsmeade and Gladrags had a window display dedicated to wedding and engagement rings (since it was the height of the social season at the time). his mother commented that she never had a taste for diamonds, but the emerald ring caught her eye. and the oval stone - set into a beautiful gold band - was the perfect Slytherin green. she told him that someday she wanted a man to propose to her with a ring just like that. his father spent returned to Gladrags every week until graduation to pay for the ring little-by-little. he proposed to her after they’d decided to pursue the same field of research, and the rest is history

(Sebastian fully intends to follow in his father’s footsteps as soon as the time is right)

Taglist: @mlktea13, @mrsbrookesallow, @ithinkweallsing, @snickette, @crispywiz

#sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #garreth weasley #angst #fluff

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serendertothesquad · 7 months ago

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Favorite OS fanfics? If you read them

Oooooh well do I got some for you, anon! Shame a lot of my favorites are restricted to Google Docs and aren't publicly published anywhere, but I'll give some a shoutout anyway.

Ships Ahoy!: An absolute classic. Lilac's entire slate OS-wise, really, but Ships Ahoy will always be a favorite. Beautifully crafted with great character dynamics, big old lore, and lots of gut punches that make me go "oof" and then sob eternally. There is also...

Full Circle: An unofficial sequel to Ships Ahoy that focuses on Olive and Oscar's relationship, with Otto, Otis, Oona, Oprah and Olympia all playing matchmaker to try and get them back together. Holy shit is it one of the funniest Odd Squad fics I've read, especially as far as Otis not knowing what shipping is and Olympia and Oona's shipping war is concerned. The A/N at the end is also something that resonates with me a lot, and as someone who writes OS fanfic, I like to look back on it every once in a while because it's very true.

Forever and a Mile: This one is a bittersweet and adorable one-shot that focuses on Octavia in the time she was tube-blocked by O'Brian and was confined to Precinct 13579's HQ, as well as Opie, the mysterious ballpit agent. I love this one because it gives a lot of depth to the ballpit and shows off some of the levels within it, while also making me feel sympathy for Octavia for all that she's going through.

OSMU: Fanfiction Friction: I'm putting this one here mainly because it's one of the few OSMU fics I've seen. It follows the Mobile Unit as they realize that, well, there are no fics written about them, and they do all this wild and crazy stuff in an effort to get a story out of it. There are an absolute fuckton of jabs to various things -- Elon Musk, ABBA, the comic book industry, and even the author himself, among others. There's even a bit where the author makes a jab at someone who was a bit of a pervert who liked to make up stories about agents naked and/or in bathing suits (key word is "was"; they got banned from Deviantart twice and AFAIK they are not around anymore), but you might not know that without context. If you're uncomfortable with that, though, the rest of the story is just as enjoyable if you skip it.

Viva La Vida: Villain Olive is a popular concept in the fandom. This is one of the earlier instances of it! The winner of a trivia contest held by Lilac, the idea for this one was conceived by Joshua Kilimnik and the story was written by Lilac. It features Olive slowly turning to the odd side due to a rapidly declining sanity with Odd Todd giving her all the pushes she needs. I like Olive's internal struggle throughout the story, as well as the (bad) ending which caps things off perfectly. (There's also a good ending, added for those who don't like to see Olly-child suffer. Just as beautiful!)

Icing: Fuck your two-sentence horror stories. All my homies hate two-sentence horror stories. Have a 91-word horror story that's one hell of a flashfic and puts a terrifying spin on what was already a pretty terrifying line in-series.

Through Frostbitten Stone: There is another fic I read a long time ago where Olympia manages to get hypothermia while trying to save Otis. (That's the gist of it. The full context would derail this bit.) This fic takes a bit of a different turn from that, with Otis getting hypothermia instead of Olympia, and is also one of the longest Odd Squad fics I've ever seen (and that is barring my own, thank you). It's a hefty read at nearly 30k words, but it's a beautiful read that showcases the Otis-Olympia partner dynamic perfectly.

...Okay fine. FINE. Two more and then that's it. God there are way too many good ones.

Star Agents: This was one that was Google-Docs-exclusive and has now been published onto AO3. And thank God, because it is incredibly good for an AU story where Otto and Todd are partners while Olive is on the villains' side. There are more chapters that are buried in Google Docs currently, but I recommend keeping an eye on this one for updates.

From The Desk of Doctor O: I like the format of this one. Dr. O trying to reform Odd Todd through court-mandated therapy sessions is also a really neat concept. Mainly because, if Odd Squad's judicial system were more realistic, I can 100% see court-mandated therapy being a thing. Definitely looking forward to seeing where this goes.

---------------------

This isn't an exhaustive list by any means, but there ya go, my list of favorites. I do like how the fic scene is still going strong with this fandom 10 years later lol.

Of course, I'm also nominating my own stories: my FiMFic catalog of crossover stories, and my AO3 collection of stories. Enjoy!

#did i delay answering this ask until the 10th anniversary day???#mmmm well maybe #i am very sorry anon but this is a good way to celebrate #enjoy blessing your eyeballs with finely-crafted words!!#odd squad 10th anniversary #odd squad #odd squad pbs kids

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cybernomads · 7 days ago

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i'm gonna put out a little life update here because things have been crazy the last months! (you can blacklist #tiary if you don't care about personal posts.)

first of all, i am studying and working an 8-5, as well as working as a dance instructor twice a week, so i've been strapped for time for a while now. lately A Lot Of Stuff has happened that is keeping me extra occupied, which ngl sucks. being creative is a much needed outlet for me, and i don't have the a) brain space and b) time for it anymore and honestly there's days where i feel i'm gonna burst outta my skin. (not to mention that some encounters really did take a spring out of my step when it comes to putting all my creative work out there at all and no matter what, i can't seem to get over it.)

so, i bought and fixed up a car (read tin can, but it's MINE) for myself after years of having gone without one. important, because i was commuting to work 4 hours each day and that's finally been shaved down to 2 hours.

my hope was that that'd leave me with some time to get some painting, writing or vp in every now and then, but the reality is that all that did is leave me with 2 extra hours for errands each day and there's no room for anything else left in between.

i'm the sole breadwinner for a three person household, two of which have gotten way too comfortable relying on me to do everything for them (they're also both 30+ years older than me. dw i am not ranting about partners or children. it's super complicated). that whole situation came to be because i've been sort of acting as their caretaker ever since i was a teen (sudden illness struck one of them 15 years ago and the other is too incompetent to care for them, so i'm making sure they both don't mess up their life entirely).

anyway even with all of that, they somehow DID manage to fuck up their life even more and the house we live in is currently being foreclosed on.

so. lol. at the moment i'm apartment hunting. not just for myself but for the both of them as well, because i know they won't look for one themselves, not even if homelessness is on the horizon. they're low income, 60+, unwilling to take care of their own affairs and also own a large dog (that i'm also taking care of but can't take with me unfortunately). it's difficult as all hell to find anything at all.

adding to that my mental health and health took a nose dive (i had emergency surgery for organ failure a couple years ago and in the aftermath we found leftover traces of a mystery infection that didn't give me trouble back then, but lately i'm worrying it's about to flare back up with a vengeance. we had to quadruple my regular dosage of my meds.), and i'm mostly just exhausted and brain fogged all day long. currently trying to get this bitch diagnosed.

the good news is, HRT is on the horizon and i have an appointment with a counselor regarding the depression/burnout/total creative block coming up, so things are hopefully on the rise.

tl;dr all of this is part of me taking huge steps towards disentanglement and getting them professional care instead, but it's taking a LOT out of me. i hardly have time to come on here anymore, and i hate that i'm missing out on all the stuff you guys have been putting on my dash.

so this is a lot of text just to say that i didn't evaporate on the spot or died or anything, i'm still here and i'm hoping to get involved with the fandom again in the near future.

if you wanna keep up you can dm me for my discord or lurk over on my main @alongtidesoflight, but i'm not going to go anywhere. if you wanna talk about the game or rave about your ocs i'm always happy to listen. if you wanna tag me in something (even if it's your own work), go ahead!

#tiary #<- personal tag that you can blacklist if you wanna #i'm not gonna make it a habit to post a lot of personal stuff on here. that's what my main's for #this is still Crazy About The Game central #show me your headcanons and ocs boy 🔪#let me reblog them fanworks

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glazedsnail · 9 months ago

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EPILOGUE

I might love ShanexFern a little too much. I like broken people.

So here it is, epilogue to Misery Loved Company

It's very fluffy, which I'm not used to, I had to wait until I was 25 to write something where no one dies at the end. Oops spoiler.

For years I've been saying I want my corpse to be thrown somewhere in the woods for the worms to feast and then this guy shows up.

We were meant to be.

The setting summer sun casts a multitude of powerful rays in Fern’s kitchen. All the windows are open, hoping to let through a thin cooling breeze amongst the uninvited bugs. Over her blasting oven, the now well established farmer of Pelican town waits for her peppers to be done. The recipe for pepper poppers she got from her boyfriend was as simple as putting on socks, however she never managed to get them to taste like his. He had teased her about a so-called secret ingredient but she knew it was a lie. His homegrown peppers were maybe of better quality. That would explain why he would refuse to give back the plant of hot pepper he had so brazenly stolen from her property. After several arguments it had been settled that a loving label with his name on it was proof enough of ownership. It would have died without him anyway.

With a content smile, she takes the peppers out of the oven. It all seems so long ago now, when it’s not even been two years. But it can easily feel like an eternity when a relationship starts like theirs.

Now ready, Fern dishes out the peppers in a box she places in her basket, along with a cool pack of sparkling water cans, a bottle of strawberry juice, and a plate of homemade muffin. She laughs, grabbing a muffin and weighing it. None of her baked goods had been eaten but they proved to be amazing projectiles.

Shane invited her for a picnic much like that questionable date. She loves him, dearly. After all their personal hardships, what they’ve been through together, being able to call Shane her partner was a wonderful treat she’d never get tired of.

Fern had given herself some much needed pamper time after her day on the farm. Her small, humble sheepfold was now housing ten healthy sheep whose wool, handspun skein, were sent straight to the city. She was grateful for Shane’s help coming shearing time, and he was always particularly helpful with the chickens, but always refused payment.

In gold that is.

She looks at herself in the mirror one last time. No mud, no holes, no stains, her lavender scented short hair drying in the sun. She’s good to go. A last look at the pressed gerbera Shane had tucked behind her ear at the Flower Dance, preserved and framed next to the door. A sentimental token often mocked by the giver for being “corny as hell”.

Beyond the other side of the farm, at the edge of the forest, the atmosphere at Marnie’s ranch is a lot less peaceful.

‘Stop fidgeting so much or I’ll cut your ear!’

‘I didn’t need a haircut, why did I let you talk me into this.’

‘Because deep down you know you want to look your best for tonight.’

‘Aunt Fern told me she likes your hair, uncle Shane.’

Shane’s heart jumps. He always tries to look cool and untouched by Jas’ use of “Aunt Fern” but it always brings him some weird fuzzy feelings.

All grouped in the warm kitchen, Marnie over Shane’s wild locks, Shane bouncing and groaning, and Jas entertained by the scene at the other side of the table, wondering why her uncle is as nervous as she’s ever seen him.

‘Ok I’m done.’ Marnie puts the scissors on the table with a satisfied sigh. ‘Why are you so nervous?’ she asks, removing the fallen hair from his shoulders. ‘You see Fern every day. Sometimes I wonder how she can tolerate you that much.’ She laughs.

‘I saw them kissing behind the barn once, and then they saw me, and uncle Shane was as red as a tomato, aunt Fern too, and’

‘Jas.’

‘Red just like that!’ The little girl giggles, too amused by her uncle’s nervousness.

‘Jas, give him a break, he’s already so nervous’ Marnie winks.

‘I’m not nervous.’ he grumbles

‘You’re a wreck! Look at my kitchen, you spent the whole day cooking and making us eat. Jas and I won’t eat mushrooms for months after that.’ She pulls out the dirty pots and pans to illustrate. ‘You keep asking me about your appearance, which is a first in Yoba knows how long. You’re bouncing off the walls like nobody’s business, and I don’t know what you’ve got in your pocket but you keep ch…’ Marnie’s eyes widen in surprise and delight, quickly squinted by the giant smile drawing on her face. She squeals, bringing her hands to her lips, her eyes slowly watering. ‘Shane! Oh dear Yoba, this is fantastic!’

Shane groans, looking away.

‘Marnie…’

‘’What’s fantastic?’ Asks Jas who tries to connect the dots clearly spelling something for her very excited aunt.

‘I’ll stop talking, I don’t want to jinx it. Not that there are any risks of that mind you. Oh, Shane!’ She lunges herself onto her blushing nephew.

‘Fuck’s sake…’ He grumbles under his breath.

‘Language! She’ll never say yes if you keep talking like that.’

‘Say yes to what?’ Plead Jas, painfully ignored.

A knock on the door forces them to fall silent. Fern’s here.

‘Jas, shush, let’s go.’ Marnie grabs the child and swiftly scutters away to her bedroom, leaving Shane alone in the now surprisingly vast kitchen. He inhales deeply and stands up to open the door.

The sun is exploding behind Fern as a smile appears on her face the second she sees him at the door.

‘You’re ready to go?’ She asks.

Shane swallows painfully. The smile Fern gives him warms his heart with so much strength he can barely understand what he did to deserve it, or if he deserves it at all.

He nods, smiling back, and gets himself ready to cross the doorway.

‘Ahem.’

‘Hi Marnie, Hi Jas!’ shouts Fern from the door to the barely hidden family.

Marnie has an impossibly wide grin on her face, Jas is still unsure of what is happening but she enjoys the spy game.

‘Are you sure you’ve got everything?’ The mother hen asks from her hiding spot.

‘Yes.’

‘Are you sure?’

Shane signs to her to leave him alone, and gently pushes Fern out to close the door.

‘Are they ok?’ Fern asks in a laugh. ‘Do they want to come with us?’

‘No! Hum, no, I mean, yes they’re fine.’

She laughs again, tucking a strand of his wild hair back.

‘You look great.’ she says, softly caressing his cheek. ‘Are you ok?’

His nervousness will give him away, but he can hardly control what he feels when she touches him, reminding him that for some crazy unexplained reasons she chose to be with him, that they are together.

‘Yeah… It’s nice to see you.’

She smiles, and starts walking in the direction of the forest. In one breath Shane quickly checks his pocket. It’s there. Everything’s fine. Everything will be fine.

‘Did you do all that?’

Between the parting trees giving to the cliff a blanket laid out on the ground welcomes them, scattered with well covered dishes and glasses, softly illuminated by well placed candles and tea lights against the darkening summer’s sky.

Shane blushes, visibly wanting to disappear in his collar. He grabs Fern’s hand and helps her down before sitting next to her.

‘I thought you’d like that.’ he says, slightly embarrassed.

‘This is lovely, Shane.’ She nuzzles into him, truly grateful. ‘I don’t know what I did to deserve you.’ She adds, planting a kiss on his red cheek, forbidding him to say or think anything deprecative about himself. ‘I love you, Shane.’ She whispers, all giddy after all this time to finally be able to say those words.

‘I love you.’ He replies, looking down. ‘So much.’ His hand slowly fingering the mermaid pendant in his pocket. Is now the right time? When would it be? Should they eat first? And more importantly, what if she says no?

‘Hey’ Fern softly grabs his hand ‘Where are you, miles away from here?’

Shane shakes his head off of all the infuriating scenarios that popped in his mind.

‘I’m a bit nervous.’ He laughs.

‘Tell me about it!’ She joins him in a laugh. ‘Why?’ Her smiling eyes now shadowed by concern.

‘I made your favourite and I’m scared it didn’t turn out well.’

‘I’m certain it’ll be perfect. It already smells amazing!’ She brings the plate of fried mushrooms to her and grabs a fork to have a taste, before bringing the fork to Shane’s mouth. He would rather drop dead than admit it, but he loves when she shares food like this.

Who’s the corny one now.

He shakes his head, actually surprised by the taste.

‘It’s delicious Shane, thank you.’

The sun is but orange light under the valley, and the crickets have started singing. Fern sighs, happy, nestled in her partner’s arms, watching the sun set over the cliff.

‘Do you remember the last time we were here?’ She asks in a grin. To her delight, Shane starts blushing. He does remember. ‘After the Flower Dance, you took my hand and we walked from the clearing to here without realising. She looks in the distance. ‘We talked for hours.’

‘I mainly remember your white dress.’ Shane says, clearing his throat.

‘I did try to clear the sap off it’ She giggles ‘and repair the tears. Kinda wanted to wear it tonight.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be, my love’ she whispers in his ear. ‘I remember that dress fondly, but the memory of how you treated it is far more precious.’

Shane shivers. It’s not her first time calling him “my love” but it always sounds so sweet.

‘You know’ Fern continues after a while. ‘I can’t remember if it was against that tree, or that one.’ She turns to Shane with a malicious smile, thoroughly enjoying her ability to make her rough looking man blush like a high school girl. She slowly nuzzles against his warm, now almost burgundy, neck. Despite all, she feels him tense up.

‘Shane?’

‘Do you remember the…other time we were at the cliff?’

Fern quickly grabs his hand.

‘Yes?’

‘Do you, hem, do you think you deserve this? That I’m worthy of you?’

Her eyebrows furrow on her hazel eyes. She sits down in front of him, on her knees.

‘I love all of you, Shane.’ she starts. ‘I always have. You’re not that one incident. You are much, much, more than what happened to you. Sure it shapes us but, in the end, despite all, you’re you. And I fell in love with you.’

‘Terrible decision making as always.’

‘Shane!’ She pushes him down, pinning him on the blanket. ‘I’m gonna stay there until you love yourself.’

‘We’ll be here a while!’ he laughs, wrapping his arms around her.

‘I have all the time, my whole life even, for you.’

Her soft but certain tone falls on Shane like an anvil. Her whole life for him. He tries to keep a steady breathing while she covers his neck in small kisses, astride his warming body. He tightens his embrace, burying his face in her neck and takes a deep breath. With a kiss on her cheek, he rolls her over, now on top of her.

‘Do you love yourself yet?’ Fern asks in a laugh, trying to sit up. She lets him get on his knees, while he reaches into his pocket.

‘I guess, enough to ask you this.’

#stardew valley fanfic #fanfic writing #failed writer #sad chicken man #stardew valley shane #stardew valley #sdv shane #sdv #fanfic #writing #epilogue #fanfics #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fic #ao3 writer #shane x oc

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