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simp4konig · 8 months

Text

Self-aware König X Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: ~2800

König slowly comes to the realisation that he was in a game, that he was never real, and that he'll never be with reader.

His sense of self deteriorates as all he wishes for is to escape from the boundaries of his code and be real.

In this instance, ignorance really *was* bliss.

*Slow burn

*König has a mental breakdown at one point lmao

Edit on same day: HOLY SHIT thank u for so many notes!!!!!!!!!!! 🥹🥹💞💞💞💞💞 You guys are so nice 🫣🫣

*Self-aware AU belongs to @puff0o0 !!!🥳🥳 (The girl behind the disguise🥸... Was rthis loser all along!!!!! 😈😈imagine giving permission to 👍THIS 👍idiot to write Ur fic idea lol u made a mistake 💀💀💀ok but idid my best not to ruin their awesome au with this pathetic controbution and jope I honoured it well 😭😭 but fr i had been stalking their profile since the begigning of their self aware! au and ivloved their acc 🥺🥺I love their imagines and how they fulfill the request yet leave enoith for imaginstion !! (which, don't mind if I do🤠all of the König scenarios added tovmy incessant daydreamimg hhhhhhhhh oh no),, and when they followed me I was staring at my phone with the BIGGEST goofy grin on my face 🥹🥹Thank YOU sm!!!!! 🫂MUCH LOVE!!!!!!!!!!💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

*To anyone waiting (I've gotten such lovely messages from people saying they liked my first fic (which made me so happy as it was the first ever fanfiction I published online🥹🥹)), Part TWO of my first fic is on its way !!!,, I didn't want to make u guys all fluffy 🥰🩷💘✨🤗 inside only to tear your hearts 💔🥀🗡️🗡️😭 in two witj this 😿 dw I promise to reward u guys with another fic and cute himbo (and absolute menace while on the battlefield 👹)König <33, with King X König having more wholesome interactions in the near future!!

If you had told König that he wasn't real, he would have looked at you blankly and said nothing, passing off your suggestion as a joke of sorts that he possibly couldn't understand.

Perhaps if he was ever faced with a situation like this he'd question you about it, but nothing more, and drop the subject at hand.

Honestly, the likelihood of him ever thinking over this twice would have been slim, as he would not pay your philosophy much thought shortly afterwards.

In fact, he believed that his life as a Kortac operator was indeed a real one, and he wore his embroided Austrian flag on his shoulder with something next to pride, always praised for his outstanding efforts by his superiors in the same tone of voice. To König, however, it meant nothing, and he'd only nod his head in an attempt at gratitude, turning his back to the commemoration in indifference.

Despite not remembering anything of his childhood, his upbringing — hell, even any of his past prior to becoming a soldier — König didn't ever think over it too deeply. The overwhelming pressure to make sure missions went without a hitch and constant deployments to foreign countries left no time to reminisce, especially not when his work was so demanding, and it only made sense to him that they were the reason for his forgotten memories.

Besides, even if he had time to spare and be inactive, he had to stay focused, as being an operator meant that he couldn't let any nostalgia or softness distract him from his tasks.

On the battlefield, König worked on autopilot, performing finishing kills with efficiency and with machine-like precision. Reacting quickly to enemies ambushing him from behind or an enemy that was laying on the floor behind the corner waiting to shoot him in the head, he'd eliminate the targets with bullets to spare. Really, he was unstoppable, and he was on a killing streak.

Until he was shot in the head one day.

The moment it happened, the shot was like an explosion that almost obliterated his eardrums, outside noise deafened like his head was underwater. All he could hear was the high-pitched ringing, and it held an uncanny resemblance to the beeping of a heart rate monitor machine that he would never lay next to, dying instead on a bed of cold rubble and broken shrapnel.

Somehow conscious enough to look around, his mind was completely empty, eyes attempting to adjust. What he'd assumed would happen in a time like this was his mind flashing with memories like a movie reel in his last moments, his entire life playing out in his final dying seconds.

Yet he remembered nothing. No Mama, no Papa, no childhood or any his life trials, nothing that had changed him and moulded his character, not even his motive for enlisting into the military in the first place.

The part that was most unnerving about all this was his complete apathy to it all.

Did he even care that he was dying? Shouldn't he at least feel regret at having essentially been the one to pull the trigger, cutting his own life short with the lifestyle he had committed himself to? Why wasn't he scared, sad, even bewildered at the very least, shocked that his life would soon end so unceremoniously? Fuck, not even mild disappointment at least at not even had travelled the world, and failing to ever explore any place besides abandoned buildings housing hostages and terrorist bases swarming with foes? Nothing at all?

Unable to process his situation, König just... laid there, unmoving, while his surroundings moved in double speed. Nondescript figures holding rifles wearing camo and balaclavas blurred in his vision, and he couldn't differentiate the enemy from his own.

Slowly losing consciousness, he felt his world darken around him, dulling his senses to the mayhem unfolding in real time. He'd accepted his fate, and could do nothing about it. That was that. And this was it.

It was a shock to his system when a silhouetted hand pulled him up by the arm limp by his side and shouted in his face, "Get up, soldier! This is no place to die!"

König didn't need to be told twice. He nodded his head robotically, his eyes looking ahead of him with a thousand-yard stare, and not even sparing a glance to the anonymous ally that saved him, he picked up the his gun off the floor and loaded another magazine into it with a satisfying click.

In his delirium, he worked on autopilot after that, shooting at anything that shot at him first. Too much in a daze, he was past the point of realising that the gaping bullet wound had suddenly sealed itself, vanishing entirely and leaving no mark that it was ever there.

After that, König didn't realise that he wasn't real when any injuries still didn't affect him. He assumed that his insensitivity to wounds was a result of a high pain tolerance, and his body healing miraculously was his ability to regenerate fast.

Although he would lay on the ground, his arm outstretched while through gritted teeth shouting: "Scheisse! Ich brauche hier Hilfe! I need some help over here!"; truth be told, he'd only do so when he after getting used to seeing so many bodies writhe in pain like so, and something for some reason told him that it was the right thing to do.

Waking up moments after not far from the spot he supposedly died in a daze, all bullet wounds gone, he didn't have time in the moment to think over the specifics of his death. Maybe he was hallucinating, or remembering things incorrectly.

König began to suspect that something was wrong when he'd hear his operators say the same sentence word for word. He rationalised that the constant shooting that never ceased even late into the night and dangerous missions that left him with far too many close calls put pressure on his mind. This mania amongst soldiers in the military was a common phenomenon after all, so it shouldn't have been as much of a surprise for König when he felt waves of déjà vu at hearing statements he could have sworn were related to him before at one point, and going to infiltrate areas that were vaguely familiar.

At some point, he thought something was REALLY wrong when he was storming a military base with... a sniper rifle.

Time stood still as he inspected the weapon in his hands, eyes wide.

That... was impossible. He had never been a sniper. True, he had wanted to be one from the beginning, yet he had adapted to his role as the main means of assault, always on the offensive rather on the defensive. So then... Why?

Adding to that, his appearance would differ. They were subtle changes at first, yet still noticeable: a red helmet instead of his black; an ochre hood instead of his black veil with its signature red streaks; a sniper camoflauge when that disguise had never been in his possession before; and even a gas mask with a hazmat suit when he had been wearing something else altogether on the helicopter heading towards its destination.

Although König hadn't know it yet, his reality was slowly shattering along the cracks, but he stubbornly fought the gnawing feeling that ate him up from the inside. He had to stay focused, he repeated to himself. No time to ponder when a task was at hand.

"All units ready your weapons, and in position immediately." Through his walkie-talkie, a voice began counting down the time left before the mission would begin. "60 seconds."

König checked all of his gear, making sure that everything was in place and he was fully equipped. A rifle, a side-arm, ammo, grenades, a med kit for an emergency and a knife. "40 seconds."

Looking up into the sky and straight into the sun, he didn't need to cover his sight as his eyes weren't affected by it at all. Yet, his eyes squinted in confusion, sensing that he was seeing something that he wasn't meant to see behind the glowing eye. "20 seconds."

He saw more than an eye. An ear, a nose, then a mouth. A face.

He saw you.

You were looking at him through a screen, holding a controller and waiting to start playing your game.

His reality shattered all at once, and he stumbled on his feet, unable to regain his balance, feeling himself go weak in the knees. He tuned out the all-important seconds through the communication device, unable to compose himself as for the first time ever he struggled to breathe.

Suddenly, all of it made sense.

People telling him the same things and never deviating from the topic of the mission, the reawakenings, the pain insensitivity — all of it was because none of it was never real.

People never branched off into other topics of conversation because their sole existence was limited to a few hand-selected voiceliness and idle animations. With each upgrade and level up, König had gotten praise from from him superiors, which explained how emotionless their announcements always sounded and why they were so constant.

The frequent brushes with death weren't a matter of luck, and instead it was just his entity respawning until a certain condition was met, until either Kortac or Specgru came out victorious — otherwise, he could "die" as many times as it took until the time ran out.

He was unfazed by bullets that grazed him and knives that tore though his flesh as he could physically feel no pain, his very existence artificial, his skin composed of pixels with no human matter hidden beneath them.

And, his inability to trace back to before he was transferred to Kortac was all because it was all he was programmed to know. There was no childhood. There was no Mama or Papa. It was just him in this world, and he had been manufactured, his thoughts and behaviours fabricated.

For a moment, he considered you the creator of his word, his God, and felt forsaken. He wanted to curse you, to snap your neck in his hands and watch your head drop lifelessly in his hold.

Yet it became apparent that you weren't the one behind this realm. Seeing the headphones strapped to your head and the controller held in anticipation in your hands, you were simply indulging in a past time, and weren't to blame for his state in any way. It wasn't your fault that you were unknowingly playing as a König trapped in the game.

You let out a groan of frustration, mashing buttons on your controller in an attempt to get König to move.

"What the fuck is going on?!" You hissed, trying in any way you could to start playing. Checking your router and the game's ping, you saw that your connection was secure, and that there was no reason for König to be frozen in place. "Fucking piece of shit console."

König shook his head, still disbelieving and unable to accept his fictional reality, yet hearing the sound of your voice made everything an even tougher pill to swallow. He had to stay in character. For you; it was the least that he could do.

After the initial lag at the beginning of the match, the game went smoothly and you couldn't find any faults. However, you suddenly noticed that your movements over König improved, moving with more fluidity and suddenly taking less damage than what you would normally use to. Headshot after headshot and kills all of the time poured onto on your screen until you'd find yourself being ganged up by bitter players wanting to ruin your streak as revenge.

Still, you topped the leaderboards with a new personal record that night. 97 kills to 0 deaths flashed on your screen, and you jumped up from your gaming chair, ecstatic, almost knocking it over in the process.

König felt butterflies in his stomach seeing you smile and jump around excitedly, and that's when he had found his purpose.

From that moment on, you became his lifeline. You gave the unfeeling König something to live for, a motive to keep fighting that he hadn't been given when being created in the game — for you and your greater good.

Really, you made him feel things: made him feel alive; made him fight with more passion and determination when your happiness was on the line.

He fell... In love.

The feelings and emotions he felt in his chest chest were genuine, and weren't pre-written in a script or manipulated by a third-party. Even the bullets that would pierce through his gear and leave him on the ground withering in agony was worth it, and he'd exchange his invincibility any day to feel what he felt when he saw your face, and the smile that tugged at your lips when you were revived or got a difficult kill.

His love for you was immortal, and it would persist through generations and could last for a lifetime, and König was almost certain that you could feel all of his energy channelling through your TV.

He found himself lovingly staring at you through the screen, admiring you as if you were an ephemeral being, a beautiful angel, even when your hair was greasy, your old tee had armpit stains and your eyes were bloodshot from how long you had been playing. Really, none of that put König off — if anything, all of those made you so distinctly you, so human.

Yet, König was in love with someone that was practically in another dimension and he would never speak to them, never touch them, never share thoughts and pass the time doing everything and nothing with them. None of that, because he wasn't real.

Had his life improved now they he had grown self-awareness? Had his ignorance really been bliss before his revelation? Perhaps if he had been another NPC that only gained manipulated consciousness whenever the player spawned in the map he wouldn't be so stricken with grief and crouched over in agony, the knuckles on his hands turning white from how fervently he was gripping his mask. He'd hyperventilate off-screen, sometimes the torment being too much.

Being so close to you yet being restricted to his three-dimensional world was bittersweet at the least, and internal suffering at most. His insatiable craving to be with you, and you with him only, fuelled his desperation, and he tried to keep you with him for as long as possible through any means necessary.

When you selected an operator that wasn't König, your game glitched heavily and would even crash whenever you made the mistake of even complimenting their design, and God forbid whenever you tried to play as someone other than him, as your console would near explode.

When you'd boot up a different game on your PlayStation, your loading screen would suddenly transport you back to the one of MW2, König greeting you with a voiceline that he reserved and perfected just for you:

"Welcome back, schatz. I have been waiting for you." Because he treasured you, and you were the only person that he could ever have feelings for.

Perhaps a recent update was fucking up your console, or it was just malfunctiong due to age. Either way, playing on an eight year old PS4 meant it could only run for so long and glitches like this were inevitable, yet you persisted in keeping the console running, not in your budget to afford to upgrade.

You'd search frantically on the internet for any information about the new König voicelines and whether there was any resolution for your problem when playing CoD, something telling you that your game was not functioning in the way that it should.

A thought crossed your mind that König had gone rogue, and you tried to laugh it off. Swallowing thickly, that still didn't relieve the deep pit in your stomach. If anything, the mere idea made it worse for you, and you'd get an intense gut feeling that would make you feel dizzy whenever König would make eyes contact with you and stand there, making you question whether he was acting out of character or not.

His attempts to keep you with him were commendable, yet none of it could change the fact that it would never be anything more than one-sided pining, a deep longing for a person whose world kept spinning while his stopped once you logged off the game, his day ending abruptly and being consumed by darkness.

For now, König had to content himself with being stuck behind a screen. He wished so desperately to be able to touch you, to escape this human generated world that trapped him in these bounds, and to find who he really is when with you. Shrouded in this deep black void, all he could do was wait patiently until you'd boot up the game again.

A hand was placed on his side of the screen longingly, resting it gently on the face on the other side.

Note: this wasn't meant to be so sad ,how did an idea of König popping out from the screen turnvto this 😭😭

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ivestas · 1 year

Text

underlying bitterness

Summary: You were depressed. The family is quick to notice.

Tags: platonic!yandere!batfam x fem!reader, reader implied to be mentally ill, depression, coddling, isolation, etc (you know the drill)

Word count: 1.6k

Notes: temporarily back from the dead! decided to finish this since i had it collecting dust in my drafts LMAO---apologies for my lack of writing, i have several projects im combing through and school 😭

The manor never really was quiet; there was always something going on.

The only time the quiet came was when they were out for patrol, or when everyone was asleep—but even then, there always seemed to be a pervasive spirit of noise and life that, on a good day, didn’t bother you.

But today was a bad one. Today, everything was an unbearable stretch of life, a near-constant torment of both mind and soul, leaving you incapacitated by your own head.

It was these days where the bearable—hell, even the nice—was acidic on your gaunt body.

A knock on the door had you wearily raising your head.

A call of your name bounced through the door. The voice was bright and chirpy, downright dripping with honey. “You okay in there? Can I come in?”

Eleven minutes alone? New record.

You sighed. The question only had one answer.

“Yes, and yes.”

The door to your bedroom opened silently, barely a squeak from the hinges. Dick revealed himself with a giant dopey grin, Damian just a step behind him.

You didn’t bother smiling. “Hey.”

“Hi!” Bright as always, his movement carried an excitable sway, acting more like a kid than a 20-something bonafide detective/vigilante. There was something predatory about it, an inherent layer of manipulative intent with it that never left you at ease.

At least Damian was always himself, the deep-set frown never leaving his face in anyone’s presence, including yours.

You would’ve been inclined to like him had it not been for the palpable softness that eased the furrows of his brows.

Shifting under the heavy blankets, you pat the other side of the bed, the movement practiced and learned. Routine.

Damian was the one to take the invitation while Dick sat at the end of your side. He rarely sat there. You didn’t care to decipher his intentions, merely regarding him with the same placidity as you had before.

“So..?”

“The family’s noticed you’ve been off lately?”

Ah.

You shifted some more, feeling the weight of their stares assess every micro-movement made. It wasn’t subtle. This was an interrogation, not their self-indulgent visits that had you puking right after.

“I’m on my period,” you responded bluntly.

“Your cycles aren’t during this time of month.” Dick’s voice was deceptively light.

"Hm, well, the female body works in mysterious ways.”

“Then I’m gonna go check the washroom garbage.”

The silence of your mind buzzed to life. “What?”

“I’m gonna go check the washroom garbage.” He repeated, rising from the bed.

What the fuck.

You could let him go and find out for himself that you were, indeed, lying. However, you weren’t in the mood to deal with the punishments that came with that...

...Though, regardless, you were going to be punished. Lying—especially to Dick of all people—never bode you well.

Really, maybe you just weren’t in the mood to deal with the drama, the stormy face he’ll don when he walks out the washroom after finding out the lie.

So you sighed tiredly, back sinking further into the thick pillow. “I lied.”

Dick’s pleasant expression flickered. Damian’s stare deepened in its calculating weight.

Dick spoke slowly. “You know what happens when you lie.”

You sighed again. It bordered a scoff. “Hurry up with it then.”

The smile turned to a neutral line, though you knew he was feeling anything than neutral. Dick loathed lies, but he kept a calm voice. “Why’ve you been off lately?”

“I lied, Dick. Aren’t you supposed to do what you usually do? Neglect and all.” You were flippant. This was gonna make it worse, and at this point you knew better, you always tried to avoid this, but something was possessing you.

A will, or more accurately, a lack thereof.

“Just tell him,” Damian hissed.

You glanced at him, unimpressed. “No.”

Dick breathed slowly. “Why?”

“Because you’ll make me feel bad for it.”

He blinked. Surprised.

Why was he surprised? Is this another manipulation tactic?

Probably. Why did you even bother trying to decipher his intentions? Their intentions?

“You’ll make it about you guys. How bad you guys feel. How you want the best for me.” You yawned. “I’m not in the mood to humor that. Pull that some other time, I just need to recuperate. Touch bases with my soul and all that hippie shit.” Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “Okay?”

A pause thickened the tension in the air tenfold.

Then, it was Damian who spoke. “You’re..?”

“Depressed.” Dick finished, mild disbelief lacing his words. What stood out was the underlying offended tone the word wore.

You didn’t bother responding, keeping your eyes shut, pulling the covers over your chin. It was only midday, but you were tired.

“Why are you... ‘depressed’?” Damian was the one to speak, now with incredulity.

“Why is the sky blue?” You muttered.

Cold fingers brushed your cheek, a colder voice poking through. “Open your eyes when you talk.”

You did as told, looking up at him from your curled position. “Why are you depressed?” He repeated with a voice of iron.

“It doesn’t matter,” you responded. “None of it does. I’ll be better soon. I just need you to give me space.”

Another pause.

Then, uncharacteristically, Damian slipped away. He glanced over where Dick was.

Dick, even more uncharacteristically, nodded and slipped away, walking with Damian out the room.

In any other circumstance, your blood would run cold.

But, at that moment, you were thankful for the temporary relief.

-----

You hadn’t thought you’d sleep, but you did, only to be awaken by Tim.

“Dinner’s ready.” He said, eyes burning into yours.

You grunted, tossing the sheets away. The cold raked your body. Getting off the bed, you glanced out the barred window.

Sunset.

How long did you sleep?

And how come they let you sleep for so long, undisturbed?

You didn’t care to wonder. Blearily nodding to Tim, you tipped your head to the washroom. “I’m gonna clean up a little, give me a—”

“You look fine, just come.” His hand, now wrapped tightly around your wrist, left no room for complaint.

Faintly sighing, you nodded again. He led you out the room and through the colder corridors of the manor, down several staircases and past various pillars and paintings you’re always surprised to see, as if you hadn’t been housed in the manor for two-something years.

Two years.

730 days wasted here.

730 days, never to be recovered.

Your chest tightened, but your heart was empty.

Pushing the thought away, you blankly focused on the outstretched dining table you’d eaten countless meals on.

Tim said your name.

You look at him, confused.

“Sit?”

Oh. Right.

You slipped onto the chair, vaguely aware of your surroundings.

“...That’s my seat.”

“Sorry,” you moved to get up, but his hands pressed down on your shoulders.

“No, it’s fine, I’m just surprised. That’s all. You’re usually pretty attentive.”

“Sorry,” you repeated.

Tim didn’t respond, opting to sit beside you.

You were vaguely aware of the rest of the family settling in their respective positions—Bruce sitting at the head on your left, Dick sitting across you with Damian to his right, and at the end of the table Jason settled with a tired huff.

What you were fully aware of however was how good the food. The aroma was thick and savory, leaving your mouth to water

Raising a fork, you dug into the food.

“How was your day?” Bruce was the one to break the silence, and you notice him looking at you.

“It was good,” you mumbled around the food.

A silence cradled the room for a moment, the clanks of silverware mute.

“Was it?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“What, is there a right answer to this?” You were daring, careless with your tongue. “Should’ve given me a textbook, woulda studied real hard before coming down.”

“The right answer is the truth,” Jason spoke up, mouthful of food. “Dickie’s all red and angry you can’t even tell the truth. Honestly? So am I.”

“We all are,” Tim murmured.

“But you know? We care for you. So just tell us what’s up, yeah?” Although his voice was light, there was an underlying threat to Jason’s words. Tell us or else.

You set the fork down and looked at Bruce—whose eyes were sweeping all over your face, calculating—the both of you having frowns tugging at your lips. “Okay. I feel like shit. A dumpster fire. Like my very body has been corrupted by dark—I don’t know exactly what that means, but I feel it, so worth mentioning, right?—anyway, all I ask is to be left alone for a bit. That is what will make my mind better. Just a day of quiet. Please?”

“...Voluntary isolation is a sign of clinical depression,” Bruce began. “And that would do you no good. What you need is the support of family to help you through this illness.”

“God, no—”

“Listen.” Damian hissed.

You shut your mouth, eyes downcast.

“What will happen is every night, you talk to Dick about whatever’s bothering you. Or anyone else. You will talk, and that will help. Anything you need, just tell them; you know this.”

“Why not get an actual therapist?”

“You can’t trust all therapists,” Dick jumped in. “I’ve trained in psychology, I know all the therapy ins-and-outs. I can help you as well as any licensed one would—if not, better!”

You stifled a sigh but didn’t bother pushing saying anything.

“You don’t look to happy about that,” Dick commented. “It’s okay. I know its hard to open up when you’ve suffered in silence for so long, but we’re all on your side, okay?”

Jesus.

You looked down at the food, picking up the fork. It took you everything not to bash your head against the table.

#yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #batfam x reader #batman x reader

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hollowdeath · 2 months

Note

Okay I was thinking of writing this myself but like Harry and his crush (who's a talented Potions witch) brews up an aphrodisiac potion into the form of a vapor (inhaled through like an atomizer) and she wants to test it with her best friend (crush lmao) Harry. Idea is a WIP but if you could use it for a smut piece I wouldn't complain 🫣🫣 LOVE YOUR WORK OMFG

Thank you loveee! ❤️

AAAAA thank you for requesting this!!! ive been wanting to write something like this for a while so you gave me the perfect excuse to try it out :D you're the best!

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry have been working on a project involving amortentia, the most powerful love potion to exist, and when harry tests your device the night before it's due, he has some rather intense side effects.

cw: smut!!! dom!harry, fingering, penetration, breeding

word count: 6k

you and harry had spent the entire semester working together on a project that challenged you to create a new form of an old potion. rather than settling for the obvious ideas like turning felix felicis into gummy candies, you and harry had decided to try something a bit more complex.

you knew right away you wanted to work with amortentia more closely, as you had always been fascinated by the potion and its powerful properties, and harry was more than willing to let you take the reins of the project. he gave insight when he could, and spent a fair amount of time helping you figure out the more complicated steps of the process, but he honestly just loved sitting back and watching you work your magic. literally.

you were by far the most knowledgeable student when it came to potions, and undoubtedly one of the smartest witches harry had ever met. he considered himself lucky that you two had already formed a friendship prior to taking potions together, allowing him to pair up with the most sought after partner in the entire class. more than just your knowledge and skill, harry was just excited to be your partner so he could know you better and see how your mind works.

you were excited to work with harry as well, but not to collaborate on potions and fiddle with mechanics you could never understand. you had looked forward to sitting close to him, reading from the same books, talking for hours, and watching his eyes intently focus as he prepared the ingredients for you. of course you two were friends more than anything, and you never considered yourself one of those girls who would fawn over harry for doing absolutely nothing, but working with him so intimately for the entire semester really made you see him differently. he was funny, he was smart, he remembered every little thing about you, and he always brought you snacks when you were working together. it didn't help that you found him absolutely adorable in big sweaters with messy hair, or felt your heart race when he looked at you from over his glasses, or couldn't keep your eyes off his hands when he was helping you put together your atomizer.

speaking of, your project had actually turned out extremely well for the little experience either of you had in engineering such a device. it was a small, handheld diffuser that transformed liquid amortentia, as well as a mix of other potent aphrodisiacs, into a vapor that could be inhaled for the full effect. harry had actually been the one to suggest the idea, trying to figure out a better way to ingest the mixture while still altering its state. you thought it was brilliant, and were surprised at how smooth the process turned out to be.

however, the presentation for the project was tomorrow morning, and you were still fiddling with a few of the mechanics to get it to work just right. it was hard to know when it was fully finished since testing the product wasn't exactly practical, as the effects would have anyone distracted and unable to focus within seconds of inhaling it. you were a bit frustrated sitting alone at your table in the potions lab, a single light above you as the sun had long since set and night took over. your head was in your hands, staring at the atomizer in front of you, wondering if you should just take the chance and test it since you were alone in the classroom.

just as you were convincing yourself, you heard the door creak open to your right, causing you to jump in your seat. you couldn't make out who was there ar first as your eyes were still adjusting to the dark room around you. you hadn't expected anyone to come in anyway, mostly because it was past curfew and, frankly, who would want to spend their time in the potions lab on a sunday evening?

but, as the figure walked closer to you, you noticed it was harry dressed in pajama pants and a sweatshirt with his slippers scraping across the wooden floors. "harry," you breathed a sigh of relief, your hand resting on your chest. "you scared the piss out of me." you say with a laugh.

harry chuckles, and you notice he's carrying his invisibility robe in one hand, half of his arm disappearing beneath it. "sorry, figured there'd be no one in here," he says with a sleepy voice, setting the robe over his own chair, making it disappear as well.

you sigh, setting your head back in your hands and leaning your elbows on the table. "it's okay, i probably shouldn't be here anyways. this thing has me seeing red, and not in a good way." you complain. harry laughs again, making his way next to you and under the light. your stomach drops at how soft he looks, his hair messy, cheeks flushed, deep voice quietly chuckling as he leans on the table beside you.

"yeah, well, i couldn't sleep knowing it wasn't perfect as well," harry tells you, his eyes fixated on the device. "not that slughorn would notice either way, but…" he trails off, making you crack a smile and chuckle as well.

harry looks down at you, his glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose. "i just know how much it means to you." he says.

you feel yourself blushing and quickly begin changing the subject. "w-well, i think i've got it most of the way there, it's just, um…" you say nervously, picking up the cylindrical vaporizer and examining it in your hands once again.

"just…?" harry provokes.

you let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head as you pass the device back and forth between your hands. "just…that, um, it still needs to be tested, i guess, to see the full effects, y'know?" you try to explain without stumbling over your thoughts.

harry understands what you mean and nods his head slowly. "oh, right…" he says a bit nervously as well, pushing himself off the table to stand up straight and clear his throat.

an awkward silence hangs in the air for a moment as you continue to roll the vaporizer between your fingers. "yeah…" you trail off once again.

harry nervously chuckles, breaking the silence and making you laugh at the sudden tension. "well, then, hand it over i guess." harry casually requests, holding his hand out to you.

you look up at harry in confusion, your eyebrows pinched together as you examine his lighthearted expression. "harry," you try to find your words, feeling yourself still blushing under his gaze. "are you mad? you can't just test this out randomly." you try to explain to him.

harry shakes his head, his own eyebrows pinching together as he lets out an amused laugh. "why not? it can't be that strong," he shrugs.

you give harry another incredulous look, utterly confused at his nonchalant attitude. "are you kidding? this potion is composed of some of the most potent aphrodisiacs in the world, and inhaling them should only intensify the effects…theoretically," you add the last part in a hopeful tone, turning your attention back to the device in your hands.

harry just extends his hand out further, nearly touching yours. "well, we'll never know if we don't test it, now will we?" he asks with a smirk. you hesitate for another moment, still looking down at your hands. of course you were insanely curious about the effects of the project you spent weeks sweating over, and certainly would feel better knowing it actually works as intended before having to present it to the class tomorrow. but you were worried it could affect harry negatively, or that he could have a bad reaction to it, and you weren't sure if you could take that risk.

"just trust me, [y/n]. i can handle it." harry reassures you once more, his voice warm and familiar.

you sigh, carefully handing over the device to harry and leaning back in your chair. he smiles at you, taking one more look at the design of the vaporizer in his hands before bringing the mouthpiece up to his lips and inhaling the mixture. harry holds his breath for a moment before blowing out the vapor slowly, the clouds surrounding him under the dim lighting in a way that makes your heart stop. he looks ethereal with the billowing vapor coming from his lips and nostrils, a soft smile pinching his cheeks.

"tastes amazing," harry observes, taking another look at the design as the vapor fades into the air.

you wait for a few seconds, looking for any sign of behavioral changes in harry as he continues to rotate the device in his fingers. "well?" you ask in a hopeful tone.

harry looks down at you, and for a split second, you swear his pupils expand to the size of his iris before shrinking back to their normal size, blinking rapidly as they do. harry sets the device down and looks away from you, his neck jerking to the side and his knuckles clenching.

"harry?" you ask, concerned, standing from your seat and reaching for harry's shoulder. before you can touch him he jerks away, making a frustrated groaning sound as he did. you're still concerned, but mostly confused as harry's hands reach for the edge of the table and grip it so hard his veins are pulsing. his breathing is ragged and heavy, nearly growling as he tries to steady it. you're momentarily distracted before harry attempts to speak to you.

"it works," he barks out, his voice strained and impatient. you're taken aback at his aggressive change in tone. "what?" you ask again, trying again to reach for his shoulder. "harry, are you okay?"

just as you make contact with his sweatshirt, harry's legs go limp beneath him as he sinks to his knees. his breathing gets heavier as he lets out a pained groan, trying his best to stand up and let go of the table for support. "just," he says between panting breaths. "i have to go," he abruptly turns and tries to leave, his hands grabbing at his hair and face as he stumbles away.

"harry," you call after him. "what's happening? are you okay? is it hurting you?" you try to get some insight on what harry's experiencing, but he keeps shaking his head as he tries to make his way to the door.

"harry!" you finally snap, stepping away from the table. harry stops in his tracks. "our presentation is in 6 hours and you said you could handle the effects. now, i need to know what they are or else i'm testing it out myself." you demand angrily, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

harry turns to you but doesn't dare look at you, his body hunched over as if he's in pain. his hands are still rubbing at his eyes and he seems to be wiping away sweat on his forehead every other second.

"look, [y/n]," harry snaps back. you're again taken aback by his tone; you've never heard his voice so dark and foreboding before, and the sound of him practically growling your name has your mind racing. "i told you it works, okay? isn't that what you wanted?" his words are rushed, as if he's still trying to leave when you have so many questions that need answered.

"i need to know specifics, harry. what does it feel like? was there any physical response? how strong is it? i mean, you really can't let me ask a few questions about something we've been working on for weeks?" you ask.

harry frustratedly walks towards you, his wide strides making you step back towards the table in anticipation. his fists are balled at his sides, his eyes still pointed at the ground. "you wanna know what it feels like?" his voice bellows in the empty classroom, causing you to jump and gasp. you didn't want any prefects to hear you two in the lab and then have to explain why harry was in such a state.

harry comes closer to you, backing you against the table as his eyes stay fixed downward. "you wanna know how i feel, [y/n]?" he asks again, his voice less angry and more impatient, feeling his hot breath fall across your skin. again, hearing him spit your name at you so aggressively only made your mind race faster. you could hardly speak, so you just nodded your head anxiously, still attempting to put more space between you and harry.

for a while only harry's heavy breathing fills the room. you can see his hands still clenched at his sides, nearly shaking from the amount of pressure they're under. just as you're about to turn your head away from the tense moment, harry's eyes meet yours. you gasp again, this time at just how dark they had become since first looking away from you.

harry smirks evilly at your shock, his hands quickly grasping the edge of the table behind you, bringing his body even closer to yours. you were feeling such a rush of every emotion possible it was hard to tell what exactly you were feeling; all you knew is you could feel the wetness pooling between your legs despite fear making your heart race.

"i feel like i could tear you apart." harry's words drip with venom, his body leaning further into yours. you let out a shaky breath, your feet still trying to back up despite the table stopping you. "and i feel like you would let me." harry teases, his smirk growing.

you let out an involuntary squeal as harry's face comes closer to yours, turning away to avoid his eyes. "h-harry–" you try to protest, but he turns your chin back to him before you can finish.

"wouldn't you?" harry asks with a knowing tone.

you try to turn away again but harry doesn't let you, instead only bringing your lips closer to his as his hand fixes itself around your jaw tightly. you struggle a bit in his grasp but he isn't letting you go.

"i see the way you watch me, pretty girl. you may be smart but you're not very clever." harry's lips barely graze yours as he talks, his breath overwhelming your senses as he continues to stare into your eyes. "you'd love for me to tell you all the filthy thoughts running through my head about you right now, wouldn't you, darling? want me to describe every scenario, every position, every sound that comes from these pretty lips?" harry's thumb raises from your chin to your bottom lip as he swipes it across the soft skin.

you're speechless at his blunt attitude, your legs shaking beneath you as you try your best to continue standing. your mind is a mess trying to understand his response. you knew the vapor would be powerful, but you had no idea harry would react like this. you weren't exactly complaining, it was just so out of character for him to be so suggestive and upfront with his desires, let alone his apparent desire for you.

you clear your throat, trying to gain the confidence to formulate an answer to his question. "h-harry, it's the vapor, y-you're not yourself," you try to explain, your voice getting caught. "just…just sit down a-and we can talk about the side effects."

harry's grip on your jaw tightens more, making you wince slightly.

harry pulls away from your face, his eyes still boring into yours hungrily. his glasses are slightly fogged from how close he was to you, but his blown pupils were still clearly visible. he's looking down at you, smirking, chuckling at your pained expression. "you never answered my questions, if i remember correctly."

you can hardly continue keeping eye contact with harry as you felt your cheeks completely flushed and heart racing beneath his grasp. you were trying to keep it together knowing he was under the effects of a powerful potion, but part of you has wanted this for so long it only feels right to let harry have what he seems to want as well. i mean, that's what friends are for, right?

still squirming under the weight of his body against yours, harry grows impatient as he lets his clothed erection just barely rub against your thigh, enough to get your attention. your eyes widen, and harry smiles in satisfaction, humming at your response. you let your body relax despite your thumping heartbeat and rapid breathing, feeling yourself lean into harry as well.

harry hums again with his eyes tracing over every part of your face like he's trying to memorize it. "hmm, that's what i thought. now, tell me, pretty girl," harry starts, his hand tilting your head up to face him more. "what do you want?"

his question left you speechless once again. you didn't expect harry to consider your feelings in the matter; not that it made any difference anyway, you've wanted him just as bad for a long time now. but you were conflicted, was harry actually attracted to you, or would the potion make him act this way towards anybody? would it be wrong of you to encourage his behavior knowing he was under the influence of a potion? did any of that even matter with harry's throbbing erection pressed against you?

rather than answering harry's question, you took a chance and reached for his shoulders to help steady yourself before pressing your lips against his. harry moans into your mouth at the feeling, his grip on your jaw loosening but still holding you in place. his other hand snakes around from the edge of the table to your ass, hungrily grabbing for it and making you gasp.

harry takes this chance to shove his tongue past your lips, pushing you back against the table once more. in one swift motion he lifts your ass onto the tabletop, sitting you down in front of him. both of his hands go to the hem of your shirt, which you help him take off quickly. his lips attached to your neck, his hands already wrapped around your waist, and you nervously watched the door behind harry to make sure no one catches you two.

you start pulling at harry's sweatshirt and he rips it off before you even have the chance to help him. his skin is hot to the touch, and his hair's becoming damp with sweat. "harry," you say shakily as he's leaving a bruise on the side of your neck with his teeth. "you're so warm,"

pulling away and admiring the fresh red mark he's left on you, harry has a slight smirk on his swollen lips, "you should feel my heart," he says with a chuckle, guiding one of your hands to his warm chest. you can immediately feel his racing heart just beneath your fingertips, beating at a pace that couldn't be healthy for him.

you try to protest, but harry just gives you another hungry but short kiss. "i'm fine, [y/n]. i'm better than fine. it's like every inhibition i've ever had is gone, and it feels amazing. i'm sorry if i've been a bit strong, but, if you could see what i'm thinking, you'd actually be a bit impressed with my restraint…" harry voice is softer this time, his hands finding their way to your back, fiddling with the clasps on your bra. his lips wander from your ear down to your shoulder, sending a chill down your spine.

once harry has your bra undone, he looks back at you for confirmation. you eagerly help him remove it from you, throwing it to the side as harry's eyes become fixated on your chest. "fucking hell, [y/n]." harry curses under his breath before his hands cup your boobs aggressively, making you whimper in response.

it doesn't take long before harry has to press his lips against the soft skin of your tits, with his teeth following not far behind. you instinctively bring a hand to your mouth to muffle the sounds you can't hold back, but harry isn't having any of it. he gives you a stern look before grabbing your wrist and placing your hand in his messy hair. "let me hear you." he states, his voice dark and commanding once again.

once harry's lips and tongue find their way to your nipples, you can't help but start to melt in his hands. whiny moans, gasps, and occasional curses fall from your lips watching harry's eyes flutter close as he enjoys pleasing you. your fingers become entangled in his hair, holding him closer to your chest.

however, harry soon grows impatient again, and your filthy noises certainly didn't help him.

he pulls you down from the table, making sure you're able to stand before quickly turning you around and pressing his erection against your ass. you moan at the feeling and grind against him, making harry's grip on your waist tighten as he lets out his own strangled moan.

you help harry remove your pants as his come off as well. only left in your underwear, harry's arms wrap around you from behind, his fingers softly running across the wet fabric covering your pussy. "fuck," he breathes against your ear, his other arm wrapping across your chest and bringing you further into him. "i need you."

harry's desperate tone sends another shiver across your skin, your mind practically short circuiting at the thought of him wanting you so badly.

harry bends you over the table, his chest against your back as he leaves rushed kisses along the nape of your neck. the cold surface of the lab table makes you gasp, your nipples hardening at the sensation.

"now," harry says, leaving one more kiss just under your ear. "what i want you to do," he continues, reaching for your open notebook across the table as well as your pen. "is be a good potions student, and write down my symptoms." he tells you as he sets the notebook in front of you and hands you the pen. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

you're a bit confused and nearly about to protest when you feel harry's fingers hook under your panties and pull them down hastily. you try to look back at him, but a hand quickly grabs your hair from behind and forces you to look back at your notes. "follow the rules, darling." harry's deep voice instructs you with a hint of a threat behind his words.

harry's grip on your hair only makes your pussy throb more. you can feel his other hand resting on the back of your thigh, his fingers running along the wet folds of your pussy, humming to himself at the warm feeling. just as you're about to start writing, you can feel harry slowly pushing a finger inside of you. your moan is strained at the unfamiliar feeling, but harry's tight grip in your hair loosens as he begins to comfort you. "just relax and let me take care of it, baby."

if you weren't wet before you certainly were now. your knees were weakening beneath you, forcing you to lean into the table for more support. you relaxed your body and breathed evenly, trying to shift your focus to the notes in front of you instead. your handwriting is shaky and uneven, biting your lip in an attempt to distract yourself from the desperate feeling growing inside you.

"go on, tell me what you wrote." harry teases. you groan in protest but attempt to speak anyway. "r-rapid, heartbeat," you manage to say before you start writing the next symptom. "d–" you try to speak, but you gasp as harry introduces another finger into your aching pussy.

harry chuckles, tightening his grip in your hair. "hm?" he asks, waiting for you to continue. you try to hold back your moans as you look back down at your notes, your eyes attempting to focus on your writing. "d-dilated…pupils…" you trail off, your eyes rolling back as harry's fingers thrust deeper into you. you can hardly keep your moaning under control and harry's loving every second of it.

"lack of…inhibitions," you breathe out, your handwriting barely legible the more you write. harry deep chuckle from behind you only distracts you further. your stomach is tight and your legs can barely hold you up anymore as you feel your high begin to build. just as it does, harry removes his fingers and leaves you feeling empty.

before you can whine, harry lets go of his grip on your hair and instead grabs your shoulders, pulling you up from the table a bit. holding yourself up with your arms, harry separates your feet with his. you can feel the head of his cock grinding against your wetness from behind.

harry's fingers end up in your mouth, making you taste yourself as he forces your head back to look at him. his eyes are entirely dark, no longer the inviting shades of blue you're so accustomed to. his smirk is evil, and his hair is sticking to his forehead from the excessive sweating. "i want to watch you take me." harry's voice is darker than his eyes, a cold, demanding force that takes what it needs.

with his fingers still holding your mouth open, you let out a pained moan at the overwhelming feeling of harry's cock pushing inside of you. despite his aggressive demeanor, harry remains gentle with you, giving you time to adjust to the feeling and carefully watching your expression. his eyes are practically sparkling with lust watching you lose yourself in the feeling of being filled by his cock.

"fuck," harry curses under his breath again. his other hand grabs for your hips, his fingers digging into your skin like you're the only thing keeping him standing. "feel so good, darling." harry places a messy kiss on your forehead before he begins thrusting into you again, slowly, enjoying every second he's inside of you.

you're nearly crying out in pleasure and desperation with the pathetic sounds coming from you. you can hardly move against harry's grasp, not that you were complaining, but you just needed more or else you would go insane.

you attempt to push your hips back to make harry get the message, and the smirk on his face tells you he got it right away. once he starts thrusting into you quicker, your mind goes blank. you can feel the drool start to drip out of your mouth and over harry's fingers, even down to your chest and the table top. harry is groaning at the sight of you becoming such a mess for him.

"looks like you needed this more than i did, hm?" harry teases, his lips so close to your ear you can feel them. you nod eagerly, your hands reaching for his arm holding your mouth open. you grip onto his forearm for stability, your eyes rolling back into your head at the overwhelming pleasure. he takes his fingers out of your mouth and instead holds your throat tightly. you gasp for air and wipe the drool from your lips.

soon both of your moans fill the room, the air sweaty and the table creaking beneath you. the fear of someone hearing you or getting caught no longer concerns you, if anything it just thrills you even more.

harry then reaches for your notes and pen again. you try hold the pen as well as you could. "i have one more symptom i want you to add," harry says between heavy breaths, becoming worn out and even more sweaty. you whine, but nod your head as you attempt to line your writing up with the rest.

you feel harry bend you further over the table, his chest hot against your back as he continues pounding into you. it's challenging trying to keep your eyes open and focused when you're completely blissed out with harry groaning in your ear.

"obsession," he hisses, his grip on your throat tightening as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

you try to write out the word, but you can hardly keep your hands steady. your stomach feels tight, your heart starts beating even faster, and you can feel yourself on the brink of your orgasm.

harry chuckles at your pathetic attempt at writing, but moves the notebook away anyway. "good girl." he commends you.

it's enough to bring you over the edge, your mouth dropping open with nasty sounds and eyes rolling back once more. harry groans into your ear as your pussy tightens around him, his thrusting becoming sloppy and tired.

"please," he breathes out just as you start coming down. "please, baby, can i cum inside you, please, please, i need it," harry's practically begging you, as if he even needed to ask.

"cum inside me, harry, please,"

"fuck," he moans again, his voice broken and needy. he's still desperately chasing his high, his hands sliding around to your stomach to feel himself pounding into you. "you're all mine, [y/n], all fucking mine." he growls into your ear. you could nearly cum again hearing harry fall apart behind you.

with a few more stuttering thrusts, harry cums inside you with another broken moan, bending you over the table again as his hands try to catch himself. his cock still fully inside you, you can feel his chest rising and falling on your back as he tries to catch his breath.

harry quickly gets off of you, almost in a rush. you turn to him and see his eyes are wide, his pupils shrinking back to their normal size, his hair nearly soaked in sweat. he tries his best to cover himself up, eventually grabbing for his pajama pants to put them back on. you're a bit lost at his reaction, hoping he didn't regret his actions so quickly.

"u-uhm, [y/n], i'm…i'm, so sorry," harry apologizes, his voice genuine and scared. he's wiping the sweat from his face, barely able to look at you. "i-i didn't mean for it to, f-for me to, um…" he's stumbling over his words, the same nervous harry you were so used to.

you smirked, crossing your arms in front of your chest to cover yourself a bit as well. "what, you didn't mean to fuck me over our lab table?" you ask smugly. harry's cheeks are completely flushed but he's trying his best to hide that from you, his hands covering his face.

"stop." he simply says, his voice meek and quiet. you giggle to yourself and step closer to him, admiring how pretty his sweaty skin looks in the dim lighting.

"hey," you say to him, stopping only about a foot away, completely naked and still shaking a bit. you reach for harry's arm and tug at it, making him uncover his face. he still doesn't dare look at you. "look, it's okay. that potion was extremely powerful, and we didn't know what would happen. as long as you feel alright that's all that matters, yeah? and, y'know, we can still be friends, even if you regret it..." you add the last part quietly, your voice breaking a bit.

harry looks up at you with guilty eyes. he's a bit distracted by your bare skin, but he can't stop looking back into your eyes. "please, don't take this as regret," he says, his eyebrows raised sympathetically. "i-i just, that's not…" he sighs, frustrated, looking away from you again. "it wasn't supposed to happen that way, our first time. n-not that i've thought about it that much," harry nervously interrupts himself, making you giggle once more.

harry looks back at you, his eyes wandering down to your chest. "u-uhm, just, you…if we ever did, y'know…you'd just deserve so much better than that," he tries to explain himself while clearly flustered.

you laugh again. "harry, i clearly enjoyed myself just then, didn't i? i mean, i don't know how it could've been much better." you admit, still in a teasing tone.

harry reaches for your shirt on the floor and offers to help you put it on. as he does you notice his eyes lingering on your chest again. "yes, but, i would've at least liked for you to have a bed to be comfortable on…" he says, knocking his knuckles against the hard surface of the table.

you roll your eyes at harry and reach for your pants as well. "well, maybe we can plan better for next time." you say with a smirk as you slip them on. harry straightens up from grabbing his shirt and looks at you with wide eyes again. "next time?" he asks innocently. you swear you could take him again right then and there, but you hold yourself back. "yeah, next time. if you'd like that." you offer him.

harry gives you that same shy smile he always has, and can barely hold himself back as he steps towards you and gives you a soft kiss on your lips. it's different, not hungry or full of lust, but rather warm and comforting. he pulls away after a moment to look at you, admiring your face in the light. "i'd love to." he whispers to you.

after helping you pack your stuff and clean up the table, harry offers to walk you back to your room with the invisibility cloak. you accept his offer and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, covering you both and walking you out of the lab and down the hallway.

before he leaves you for the night, harry can't help but snag another kiss, still as soft and loving as before with his hand resting on your cheek. you giggle into his lips, laying your forehead on his. "goodnight, harry." you say to him, readjusting your bag with your notebooks. "goodnight, my love." he tells you, unwrapping you from the cloak and leaving you with a swish.

the next morning you two had barely slept, sitting in potions class with matching eye bags and flushed cheeks. you could hardly look at the side of the table you were just bent over last night, and noticed harry smirking anytime he turned his head that way as well. his hands were subtly bumping into yours, as well as his knees, trying anything to get your attention during the other presentations. you just gave him a look, but couldn't help smiling at his gestures.

when it was your turn to present, harry let you do most of the talking and admired how passionately you spoke about the process to create the device. slughorn was more than impressed with your skill and knowledge, and awarded you and harry with top marks for your vaporizer.

"would there be any way to test the device?" he had asked curiously, holding it between his hands and examining it. "no!" you nearly exclaimed, taking it from his hands before he could even try. slughorn gives you a surprised look, but harry pipes up from behind you. "it's entirely too powerful to just try it out casually, sir." he says.

slughorn's eyebrows pinch together. "how so?" he asks. you and harry exchange awkward looks, both blushing and chuckling to yourselves. harry takes the device from you and puts it in his own pocket.

"just trust me, sir."

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thelov3lybookworm · 8 months

Text

I Didn't Ask For This (part eight)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, azzie sulking about (lmao), none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: okay, guys, first things first, I'm so sorry for the delay in this part. I just couldn't get to writing it and for the past few days I have had a lot of work to do. And, the part everyone's been waiting for is here. The slap is here. 😌

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

It had been a week since Y/n had walked away from Azriel and left him alone on that balcony. Everything had gone back to the way it was before, with him doing his best to ignore her and her doing the same. The only difference was, he cared for her now, and she could see it in anything he did.

Filling her glass of water or filling her cup of tea at meal times. Not pretending that she didn't exist. Helping her and instructing her when training with other priestesses. So that was... progress?

As she stepped through the door to the training area, her eyes immediately started searching for her husband without her permission. But he wasn't in his usual spot in the corner of the ring. No, he was in the middle of the ring, sparring with Cassian.

And he was shirtless.

It wasn't as if she had never seen someone shirtless. Having a brother and living in a camp, it was an everyday occurrence.

But seeing Azriel was different. The way his muscles flexed as he spun and attacked Cassian, the way sweat dripped down them. It gave her butterflies.

"Not hard on the eye, don't you think?" Nesta murmured, startling Y/n. "Or are you too busy drooling over him to form coherent thoughts?"

"Shut up." Y/n mumbled. That was when she noticed that there were no priestesses, including Gwyn. "Where are the others?"

"They had some ceremony today. And Emerie had important business in her camp. It's just the four of us today."

Y/n nodded, then realised that would mean that she would have all of Azriel's attention on her. Her mouth dried.

Nesta and she started with some warmup exercises while the Illyrians finished off their sparring. When they were done, Cassian sent her a cheeky grin and a wink as she walked to Azriel. Y/n shook her head, exasperated.

Azriel was waiting for her when she neared him. And when he looked up, she knew today was going to be one hell of a day.

•○🌑○•

Y/n panted, crouching for a moment. She had discarded the upper jacket that she had worn that morning on a nearby bench. She was sure if she squeezed all the sweat from her body, it would rival the water of the Sidra.

Azriel had shown her absolutely no mercy today, with all his undivided attention upon her.

"Tired already?" Azriel asked, sweat dripping down his forehead.

Y/n gaped. "What do you mean already tired? It's been hours since we started. Atleast 5 hours, if you ask me."

He raised a brow. "Actually, its barely been over an hour."

"Excuse me? You're lying."

"No I'm not."

"Hey Y/n!" Nesta called before she could answer. Y/n turned to her and Cassian. "I have some work to do in the library and Cassian has a meeting with Rhys. We're leaving. Is that okay with you? You can come with me if you want."

Y/n shook her head. "You go. I'll go and get some rest after this."

Nesta nodded, waving to her and exiting the training area with Cassian on her heels, wiggling his brows at Y/n. She tried to scowl at him, but couldn't. He was just too adorable.

Azriel was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. He brushed a stand of hair back from her face, his hand lingering on her cheek. She felt butterflies erupt in her stomach.

But then he went rigid, a muscle feathering in his jaw. She noticed his shadows thickening around him, hiding him from view.

And then her eyes flitted to the arch that led into the training area, where the middle Archeron sister had appeared. She smiled in that perfect manner of hers when Azriel glanced at her.

"Azriel." Her said in her lilting and melodic voice. "Its been weeks since we talked. Where have you been?"

He studied her for a minute before turning back to Y/n. "I've been busy."

A flash of hurt crossed Elain's features before she smiled again. She placed a hand on his shoulder and Y/n looked away.

"I think I'm done with training today. Have a good day." Y/n said, making a beeline for the arch, ignoring the sound of protest azriel made behind her.

She raced down the steps, heart beating wildly. But then she remembered that she had left her jacket back on the bench near where she was training. She felt weirdly naked without it.

Cursing herself, she turned back, practically flying up the stairs, praying and hoping she wouldn't find them doing something she couldn't handle.

But, as said before, her life never went as she wanted it to.

When she emerged in the training area, she found the middle Archeron sister standing in the exact same spot Y/n had been in a few moments prior. And they were kissing. Elain was all over Azriel, his hands holding her waist.

An involuntary gasp escaped Y/n, and it must have been loud as Azriel pulled back and turned to her. He paled.

"Y/n–" She ignored him, walking straight to the jacket lying near him and donning it. When she turned to leave, he tried to get her attention again, to no avail. And so he caught her wrist.

Before she knew what she was doing, she whipped around and her hand flew up. She only realised what she had done when her palm started stinging and Azriel stumbled back, landing on the bench where her jacket had been.

He stared at her with wide eyes, his mouth gaping like a fish.

She had slapped him.

It was completely unexpected. She didn't mean to slap him. She wanted to apologise, but she stopped herself.

"Don't play with my life Azriel. One moment, you look like you actually want me, the next, you turn around and kiss her. This is not a game, Shadowsinger."

"Y/n– I swear it is not what it looks like. I can explain. I–"

But Y/n couldn't stand to be in his presence anymore, so she left.

•○🌑○•

Night descended swiftly on Velaris, and Y/n found herself sitting next to Nesta while eating dinner. She hadn't told Nesta about what she'd witnessed yet. She didn't have the energy.

Azriel was nowhere to be seen. And, even though Y/n was happy about it, she couldn't help but wonder where he was.

After dinner, as she was about to step into her room, a shadow darted in front of her face, making her stop in her tracks. It looked frantic as it flew around Y/n before flying towards the general direction of where the training area was supposed to be.

Her brow furrowed. It looked like the shadow wanted her to follow. And so despite the fatigue weighing her down, she followed it.

It took her straight to the stairwell that led to the training area and up it. She slowed down when she heard voices coming from beyond the arch.

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't want anything to do with you!" That was Azriel.

"Az–" Y/n froze. That was Elain.

"No Elain. I am married. And I want to have a relationship with my wife. Why can't you understand–"

"You didn't want her–"

"Now I do! I want her."

"What does she have that I don't?"

"It's not about being better than the other. She is my wife, and I want to get to know her."

"But she doesn't like you."

"Yeah well, she might have started to like me if you hadn't kissed me this morning. We might have had a chance at ahappy life, and now you've ruined it. She will never want me again, all thanks to you. Are you happy now?"

"Then tell me you didn't want me to kiss you."

Y/n peeked around the arch to see them standing near a practice dummy. He was shirtless and gaping at her. "Me telling you to not kiss me was not enough? Me trying to step away, push you away when you kissed me was not enough? Fine. Listen closely Elain, because I will not repeat it again. I. Do. Not. Want. You. And nor did I want you to kiss me. I did not enjoy it."

Elain stared at him for a moment before turning and marching straight towards the arch. She looked furious. When she got closer, she realised Y/n was standing in the arch. Elain sneered at her, bumping her shoulder harshly on the way out.

Y/n watched her go with her mind spinning.

Azriel had been forcibly kissed by Elain. He hadn't wanted it, despite what she had believed.

A thump sounded from below, and Y/n looked down to find a first aid box her her feet. She frowned, but then that little shadow came to hover around her face before darting to Azriel.

That was when she saw that Azriel was sitting down on a bench, his head in his hands. There was a small puddle of dark liquid beneath his feet, some of it dripping down his hands.

With a jolt of horror, Y/n realised it was his blood. Drops of it led to the training dummy, and she summarised that he had been punching the dummy for so long that his hands started bleeding.

She picked the box by her feet, walking to where he sat. He looked up when she came near, his eyes widening slightly. He said nothing as she kneeled in front of him, opening the box and setting it next to her. He watched her as she took his hands and examined them, starting to work on him.

She knew how to patch wounds up, from the most tiniest to fatal wounds. She was the one that mostly patched her brother up.

She worked in complete silence the whole time, except for when azriel had hissed in pain when she was applying a gel into his wounds.

When she was done, she surveyed his hands. Then she finally glanced up.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have slapped you." She mumbled quietly.

He smiled faintly. "I deserved it." He said back, equally quiet.

"That you did." She nodded. A surprised laugh left him, some of the tension bleeding from his shoulder.

They didn't say anything for a long time before she gathered all the supplies and the box vanished. As she stood up to return to her room, she paused.

She wanted this to work, she knew that. And she knew that he wanted th same thing. So, mustering all the courage she had, she glanced back at him. He hadn't moved, staring at her.

"I hope the offer to take a tour of Velaris still holds?" It was a peace offering. She knew they needed to sit and have a long chat about everything, but for now, neither of them were ready for a heart to heart. They might have been friends before, but they didn't know each other now. They needed to understand what the other had become in the last five centuries to understand each other.

His brows furrowed. "What..." But then he perked up, his eyes lit up with precious hope. "The offer still stands."

"Thank the cauldron." She smiled. "Tomorrow?"

"Whenever you say."

"You've lived here. What do you suggest?"

"Morning is a good time, though its prettier in the night." He searched her eyes.

"Well... I guess we have no option but to spend the whole day in the city, don't you think?" A bright, beautiful grin spread on his face as he nodded eagerly. "Be ready after breakfast then, Shadowsinger."

As she walked down the steps, she could hear faint cheers coming from behind her, and she smiled.

A little of the weight she seemed to carry around everywhere lessened.

And she knew this was the right choice.

•○🌑○•

Part 9

Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes @luvmoo @starlight-hope @a-frog-with-a-laptop @fall-myriad @alt-ghost @elleofdragons @ruleroftides @5moremin @stargirl1714 @bunnymallowo

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itsghvstfvce · 11 months

Text

WHAT'S IN A NAME | PART 2

pairing : tara carpenter x fem!reader

summary : you can keep running, but you can't run from who you are. | read part 1 here!

word count : 4.1k

warnings : scream vi spoilers but anika lives here bc she deserves better, violence stab stab stab, mentions of blood, swearing, reader is momentarily athletic, and as usual, shitty non-proofread writing lmao

Tara drags you back to her apartment with Sam and the rest of her friends that evening.

As you expected, Sam was not on board with you staying with them since you were practically a stranger to everyone. But once she saw Tara beg with the cutest pout on her face, Sam knew there was nothing she could do. She did, however, stick to your side for the entirety of the trip home to ensure you don’t do anything funny which was pretty damn intimidating; after seeing what happened at the frat party, you knew better than to fuck with the older Carpenter. Tara, Mindy, and Chad all snickered at the obvious nervousness that was evident on your face despite your protests of not feeling nervous at all.

At the apartment, Chad and Mindy set the table for dinner while you and Tara prepare the food. The two of you steal quick glances at each other, smiling as you silently check each other out.

“So where’d you learn to cook?” Tara finishes chopping carrots then drops them in the pot and you start stirring, adding a variety of seasoning at the same time to enhance its flavour.

“Self-taught. Ever since I came to the city, I had to learn how to live on my own which meant learning how to cook.”

“Where’d you move from? Do you keep in touch with your parents?”

You halt your movements at the mention of your parents and Tara takes immediate notice of this.

“Sorry, I must have hit a nerve. You don’t need to answer, I get-”

“No, you’re good,” you place the ladle down to the side and face the younger Carpenter to give her your full attention.

“Most of my life I stayed in Cali. I decided to leave for college because I wanted to see what else the world had to offer.”

“And you thought New York was the best place to go?” Tara raises her eyebrow.

You chuckled at Tara’s remark, “well it did lead me to you so yeah, I think it was,” you didn’t mean to come off as flirtatious but it’s the truth. Running away and coming to New York allowed you to meet Tara, who is now all smiles and tries to fight the pink tint that was making its way onto her cheeks, causing you to smile too.

“And your parents?” Her smile fades slightly, knowing she may be treading in dangerous waters. You take a deep breath in before answering her.

“My parents are good people. I have nothing against them.”

“Then why do you get tense when I bring it up?”

“It’s just that we haven’t talked since I came here. I’m sure they didn’t want me to move out but I pushed for it anyway, so I’ve been hesitant to reach out; only because I don’t know if they’d want to talk to me after leaving them,” Tara takes notice in the way your breath hitches slightly, trying to hold back the tears from falling. You really missed your parents; you didn’t want to run away but you couldn’t handle the life you had at home.

Tara walks towards you and grabs your hand that was gripping the counter. You relax at her touch, and she leans her head into your chest.

“I’m sure they miss you as much as you miss them, Y/N. They’re your family and family is always going to be there when you need them to be, whether you like it or not,” Tara then takes a quick look at Sam who was placing extra pillows and blankets down for everyone and a small smile makes its way onto her face. “But just know that you don’t need to contact them right away. Do it when you feel ready.”

“I honestly don’t see that happening anytime soon, but I’m definitely thinking on it.”

She takes her head off your chest and looks at you, eyes darting between the both of yours and you find yourself getting lost in her dark brown orbs once again. But to your surprise, the shorter girl takes a step back, her gaze moving from your eyes to the ground and the hem of her shirt suddenly becomes more interesting.

“I think you should get out of the city, though. Like, the three of you I mean, I wouldn’t blame any of you if you wanted to go. We put you guys in a lot of danger and-”

“That’s very thoughtful of you Tara, but I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” she glances up from her shirt to meet your eyes again but the sudden sound of fake gagging catches the both of you off guard.

“Will you two just make out already?” Mindy complains while setting the cutlery on the table.

“Mindy that is so inappropriate, come on dude!” your face heats up at the embarrassment while Tara and Chad just laugh at the current scene in front of them. But the atmosphere immediately changes when Anika points out the news being reported - Sam was being accused for the killings that took place last year in Woodsboro and they claim she placed the blame on Richie and Amber. When Sam mutes the TV and marches to the dining table, you plant yourself beside Anika while Tara, Mindy, and Chad try to comfort the eldest, deciding that it wasn’t your business to meddle in right now.

“So you and Tara, huh?” Anika asks out of the blue, nudging your arm with her elbow.

“Nah, I think it’s way too early to be saying there’s anything between us.”

“But you like her, don’t you? I mean come on, you look at her the way Mindy and I look at each other.” You simply smile and shake your head. You knew what the truth was anyway and judging by the smile on your face, Anika probably knew the truth now too.

Then multiple phones start going off at once, including yours. Hesitant, you pull out the device from your sweater pocket, and once it’s unlocked, you’re greeted with a picture of Quinn being attacked by Ghostface in her room. First you whip your head towards her door, then turn to the four still sitting at the table before all of you get up and crowd in front of Quinn’s room, grabbing Tara by the arm and pulling her close to you to stop her from doing anything irrational.

The screaming and the banging suddenly stop. The silence is eerie. The six of you stand outside Quinn’s room waiting for any sound or sign of life.

You wait.

And wait.

And wait. Until Mindy finally breaks the silence.

“Run!”

The door opens and Ghostface shoves a butchered Quinn towards all of you. The corpse falls on top of Anika and she lets out a blood curdling scream, leaving you frozen in your spot. Chad grabs Tara and they sprint towards the exit, the younger Carpenter yelling for you to follow but the rest of you couldn’t. Ghostface was right in front of you, and if any of you tried running, he could tackle you immediately.

You’re still frozen. You want to move but your feet are stuck to the ground, and you feel helpless. But you finally gain control of your body when he comes forward and slashes Mindy in the arm. As Sam frantically looks for a knife and you apply pressure to Mindy’s arm, Anika tries to hold onto his legs to stop him from hurting Mindy any more, but it backfires when he wraps his hand around Anika’s neck. She visibly turns red and struggles to get him off of her, but it was no use; he's much stronger than she is. Ghostface effortlessly picks Anika up, hand still tight around her neck, and slams her right against the brick wall where he plunges and twists the knife right into her abdomen causing another scream to escape from her throat. He mercilessly sinks the knife even deeper into the girl, making her scream even louder than she already was.

You glance towards the kitchen to find Sam still trying to find any kind of weapon. Realizing she was taking too long, you release Mindy’s arm and rush towards Ghostface, grasping his shoulder and turning him to face you before swinging a right hook right to his face. With no other option, Sam grabs the knife block and knocks Ghostface in the head making him fall to the ground. You help Anika up while Sam assists Mindy, and the four of you run into Quinn’s bedroom. Meanwhile, Tara realizes none of you were behind her and yells at Chad to go back upstairs, but to her demise, the door was locked and she left her keys inside. She begins to panic, worried about what could happen to her sister, her friends, but most importantly, you. Chad wraps his arm around the girl and starts leading her down the stairs.

You plop Anika down beside Mindy and watch as Sam holds the door closed. The banging stops after a while, but Sam notices the bathroom door was open.

“Y/N, the bathroom door, hurry!” Sam whispers, and you rush to go close it.

“Oh fuck! That guy’s dead,” you cry out loud, frightened by the sight of a carved up man in a literal blood bath. Distracted, you nearly miss Ghostface at the door and you frantically try to shove him out of the bathroom, slamming the door onto him multiple times. He manages to plant his knife into your left shoulder, luckily missing your carotid artery due to the awkward angle. You scream out in pain but still push with all your might to get him out the door. Sam comes to your side to help you push, and when he’s finally outside, you lock the door and help Sam push the dresser to block it. Ghostface doesn’t stop banging and kicking the door so you lean against the dresser to add extra weight. In the corner of her eye, Sam catches sight of Danny in the neighbouring building and he brings out a ladder for the four of you to climb across. With no other choice, Sam reluctantly agrees with his plan.

“You guys go first, Y/N!”

“What? No! Somebody needs to hold the door, let Anika and Mindy go first, then I’ll be right behind you Sam. Go!”

Just as you instructed, you watch as the three of them slowly but safely make their way across the ladder. Once they were all in the safety of Danny’s apartment, they all cry out for you and you look at the door one last time before rushing to the window.

“Come on, Y/N! Slow and steady, you can do this!”

You were never really afraid of heights, but the thought of having to cross a very unstable ladder that was high up in the air just to escape a killer heightened your anxiety by tenfolds. You breathe in deeply before taking your first step, carefully shifting your body weight as needed to avoid making the ladder more than it needed to. The encouraging words that were once spilling from the audience standing at Danny’s window start to become less frequent and eventually stop all together, causing you to stop in your tracks. You look up at them for the first time and find all of them looking like deer caught in headlights.

“What?”

“Y/N, you have to move right now!” Mindy yells almost in desperation.

You turn your head and you find the familiar black and white mask managed to make it into Quinn’s bedroom. You’ve only made it just halfway across and with Ghostface now trying to throw you off the ladder, you tried to pick up your pace.

“Come on Y/N, you gotta move!” Sam yells as Mindy and Anika watch nervously, trying their best to help Danny weigh the ladder down and keep it stable. Despite their efforts, it becomes harder to keep yourself steady. Ghostface repeatedly tosses the ladder up and down and he eventually gets it to turn over on its side so it’s no longer parallel to the ground. Everyone who was watching scream and cry in horror, fearing you'd fall right off but you maintain a solid grip. You looked down and watched how your legs dangled in the air. Your hands were getting sweatier with each moment that passed by and Ghostface clearly wasn’t going to stop until he saw your body smothered on the ground beneath you.

“Y/N you can do this, we got you! Don’t look down!”

Their voices made you look up and you can see the desperation they had to keep you alive. Gathering all the energy you had left, you swing your body to give yourself momentum and cross the remainder of the ladder Tarzan style. You’re finally able to reach for Sam’s hand but you lose your grip on it when Ghostface gives the ladder one last toss, leaving you to hang on the ladder with one hand. The blood and sweat that was on your hand was making you slip more and more until you could no longer hold yourself up. As your hand releases the ladder, Sam, Mindy, and Anika scream at the sight of your body falling in the air. You curl yourself up in attempts to protect your head and break the fall using your left shoulder by making direct contact with the dumpster that was beneath you before rolling off of it and onto the ground. Your entire left shoulder, along with some of your ribs and God knows what other bones in your body, were definitely shattered from the impact and you also felt extremely light headed, but the important thing is you weren’t dead. You deliver that message to Ghostface when you catch him looking out the window, flipping him off with a smirk on your face as the three girls sob and breathe a sigh of relief.

You wake up on a stretcher just outside an ambulance to find Tara, Mindy, and Anika sitting in the back of the vehicle itself with its doors opened. You carefully try to move but pain shoots through your entire body like lightning. The younger Carpenter shoots her head in your direction when she sees you move and she’s quick to grab ahold of your hand.

“Y/N, you’re awake!”

“Hey there daredevil, how you holding up?” Mindy asks.

“I can’t lie, I'm pretty fucking high right now,” you smile and the three of them giggle.

“What you did back there was seriously insane. Like you wouldn’t believe her upper body strength, Tara! She deadass looked like Tarzan or something,” Anika explains excitedly, but it quickly dies down when Mindy starts to talk again.

“Okay but even though it was sort of impressive to watch, you’re still on my suspect list. That could’ve just been a little act to throw us off our tracks. We still don’t know a whole ton about you, other than the fact that you’re part monkey.”

“Hey, I’m no monkey, I'm a human being!” the amount of drugs in your system cause you to slightly slur your words. Mindy smirks and decides to use your woozy state against you all while Anika shoots her girlfriend a knowing smile.

“Hey Y/N, what do you think of Tara?”

“Mindy!” the girl in question protests.

“Tara? Oh golly, she’s an absolute gem!”

“Yeah? Think she’s pretty?”

“Pretty damn gorgeous if ya ask me!” Tara starts to blush at your honesty.

“Okay Mindy that’s enough, let Y/N re-”

“Chad..” Ethan emerges from the crowd and cautiously makes his way towards all of you, worried about the state of his friends at the moment. Chad, however, was unhappy to see his roommate and he slams Ethan against a car to question his whereabouts the previous night. Even after letting him go, Mindy doesn’t allow Ethan to step foot near you.

“Step the fuck back. You’re at the top of my list.”

“I had econ!”

“Ohhhh, econ!! What's econ?” you ask, clearly still in a drugged state.

You spend the day in the hospital trying to recover, immense pain still spreading through your body. But when Tara tells you about Gale getting attacked and their plan to try and catch Ghostface, you beg her to let you help out.

“Are you sure you want to be discharged now? You still have a long way to go before you’re anywhere near being fully healed,” the charge nurse asks as she hands you a few papers to sign.

“I wouldn’t do this if it weren’t important. There are lives on the line and I need to help out. Thanks for everything though.”

“Just be sure to take your meds and show up to those follow up appointments, young lady.”

You smile at the lady before making your way down to the hospital lobby where you meet Tara and everyone else.

“You look like absolute shit,” Chad teases.

“Yeah, well you try falling off a ladder then pretty boy” you retort, and he playfully lifts his arms up in surrender.

“Alright captain, where we headed?” you turn to Tara.

“I’ll explain everything along the way.”

“Wait, where’s Anika?”

“I told her it was best if she stayed out of it. She’s safe with her parents,” you nod your head in approval seeing as you definitely didn’t want to see more people getting hurt.

The seven of you travel through the streets of New York City until you’re met with the busy atmosphere of the subway stations. To what you were able to get from Tara’s explanation, there was a massive theatre that held Ghostface memorabilia from over the years, and you were going to try and lure him there so you could all attack him. Although some were protesting against the plan, you thought it was better than just standing around and waiting for his next attack.

The subways were particularly packed with commuters trying to make their way to the different Halloween parties being hosted all over the city. Almost everyone around you was wearing a costume so technically, you were the ones who stood out in the crowd. It was easy to get lost with the amount of people around, so you held onto Tara’s hand as tight as you could but you didn’t miss the glare burning into the back of your head from her sister.

Despite your efforts to stay with them, the number of people made it extremely difficult to keep up. Mindy trails behind you and calls out for Chad to wait up while you call out for Tara, but Danny and other civilians push their way onto the train to force you, Mindy, and Ethan to stay back on the platform and wait for the next one. You watch the train pass by before taking a look at Mindy who lets out a sigh of frustration. The two of you are startled by a hand that touches your shoulder which just turned out to be Ethan.

“Get your Ghostface ass away from us, Ghostface.”

“Wait, so you trust her but not me?”

“I saw Y/N fall off a ladder last night so I know where she was. I can't say the same for you, though.”

“I keep telling you guys I had econ!”

“Just keep your distance, Ghostface,” Mindy pulls you away from Ethan and you two walk further down the platform as you wait for the next train.

“Hey, did you notice his eye?” you ask Mindy while she tried to make him look away from the two of you.

“No, why? Did you see something?” she turns to you.

“It looked like it was starting to bruise. And if I’m not mistaken, I’m pretty sure I landed a right hook onto Ghostface last night. You think it’s a coincidence?”

“That’d be one hell of a coincidence. He definitely has to be Ghostface, I’m calling it right now. But you’re still not completely off the hook, got it buddy?” you give Mindy a tight lip smile and nod almost immediately, causing her to giggle at your nervous reaction.

The train ride was anything but pleasant. With the success of the Stab films, there were a number of Ghostface costumes on the train, causing you and Mindy to be on edge the entire time. Unfortunately, you and Mindy couldn’t stick close together due to the number of people separating you two, but you made sure to keep a close eye on her and to your surroundings.

But thanks to the flickering lights, it was hard to pay attention to your environment when you couldn’t see anything. You frantically turn your head in every direction to ensure you had every space covered and checking on Mindy if she was okay. When you turn your head to the left, you find a Ghostface mask who happened to be staring right at you. You want to think it’s just another random in a costume but the way he keeps his gaze fixed on you gives you the feeling it’s not just a random person.

Anxious, you try and make your way closer to Mindy so you could stay together but as soon as you started to move, he did too. There were a bunch of people in your way, leaving you no choice but to push through them and not even bothering to say sorry. At one point, the lights shut off and it takes a while for them to come back on. You continue your trek to Mindy but it’s no use because people were being bitches stubborn and wouldn’t move out of the way. You look back to see if Ghostface caught up to you, but you can’t make out anything in the dark. The lights finally come back on and Ghostface is nowhere to be seen, confirming your suspicions that it was most likely a stranger.

But when you turn back around to push your way through to Mindy, Ghostface is right in front of you. You attempt to scream but his hand is faster and immediately covers your mouth before pushing his knife right into your stomach. A muffled scream can’t be heard with how loud the train was and the people around you were, so you were left there to struggle and Mindy didn’t even know. He shoves the knife deeper into you and the two of you slowly fall to the ground, yet no one around you seemed to notice what was going on. Ghostface finally pulls the knife out and starts walking towards Mindy but you can’t get up to stop him. The announcer on the train comes on to indicate that the train will be arriving at the platform soon which catches him off guard, and you think he won’t have enough time to attack Mindy, but you were wrong. Ghostface quickly stabs Mindy approximately in the same area as he did with you before he makes a swift exit off the train. The two of you are clutching your stomachs, putting pressure to try and minimize some of the bleeding. Ethan notices both of you and immediately calls for help while he tries to drag both of you out of the train at the same time. He drops you by a nearby post where security guards gather and call for medical services.

“Are you guys okay?!”

“Yeah, we’re so good” Mindy’s sarcasm doesn’t fail to make an appearance despite being in pain.

“Goddammit. I got it wrong again! What the fuck?” she grunts in pain. You, on the other hand, start struggling to keep yourself awake. Your eyelids feel heavy and it’s becoming harder to breathe, the rest of your body feeling limp until your head crashes onto Mindy’s shoulder.

“Y/N, stay with me, come on!”

“I’m just gonna take a nap Min, don’t worry, I’ll be up in no time.” Mindy can feel her heart break hearing the nickname come from you for the first time. Her voice is the last thing you hear before finally letting your eyelids close themselves.

“Fuck this franchise.”

a/n: hello again, reader >:) i'm giving y/n some of chad's armor plot bc let's bffr, anyone would die falling off a ladder like that lmfaooo anyway, thank you guys for all your patience! the next part will be the last one and you will finally get to know who y/n is :) hope u enjoyed!

#scream #scream vi #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #itsghvstfvce

620 notes · View notes

jeon-ify · 3 months

Text

that night : j. yunho - pt. 1

a/n: this is my first actual fic since i’ve just been posting scenarios and requests :3 !! this idea came from listening to ‘you broke me first’ by tate mcrae. its a great song and it reminds me of yunho but toxic yunho. it would kinda be good if you listen to the song while reading !! idk girl i just write

genre: smut, drama, early 20s- mid 20s romance, toxic/dark romance, 18+

warnings: smut, dark romance, toxic!yunho, yunho has a threesome with y/n’s best friends, yunho is a cheater, reader swears a lot, yunho calls reader a psychotic bitch, san is a druggie, alcohol, cocaine, yunho begs, yunho gets sad and guilty, reader claims she moved on, san is annoying as hell, wooyoung is readers bestie!!

“san! i haven’t talked to you in so long, i’m sorry! how have you been?” your phone rang, you look to see that san called you about 20 times. you’ve been ignoring him, since he’s done almost every drug under the sun in the past year since you all have moved to different cities.

“man I called you 6 times. stop playing dumb. yunho’s asking about you again, please call him back. i’m sick of his shit.” san sniffles sharply. you’re sure he’s doing crack again, but when is he not?

you did not want to hear about yunho. you haven’t heard about or seen him in almost 4 years now, recovering from that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~

you call yunho, in hopes that he’d pick up. you left him a voicemail asking if he’d want anything from target when you were off work tonight.

*hello!! it’s yunho, sorry i couldn’t take your call. leave a message and i’ll call back!*

“i’m gonna stop at target, babe. did you want anything? love you, call me back.”

you finish your target run, grabbing a set of shampoo and conditioner and other necessities as you’ve been out of your favorites for a week now. you step out of the car, grabbing your bags and unlocking the door to yunhos apartment. you didn’t live with him, but you practically did since you were there almost every day of the week.

“~yuyu, fuck its so good! so big!” “you fuck us so good oh my god.”

“you’re both so fuckin’ pretty. my god.”

no fucking way.

your heart dropped to your ass, at a loss of every word in the dictionary. you felt like you were being run over by a truck 100 times over.

it felt like every moment with yunho was flashing at once.

he told you he loved you a million times a minute, you thought you were the only one. you thought that yunho would love you and only you, but how could you be so stupid to trust anyone else again?

you walk to where the noise is coming from, tears flooding your eyes, threatening to fall. the door is cracked a little, you see a pile of black hair and red hair mixed, one on top of the other. one of the girls has a tattoo on her wrist while the other has one too— it looks all too familiar.

one tattoo being a moon, the other being a sun.

your best friends.

you want to cut off the star tattoo on your wrist so fucking bad. how could they ever betray you like this? they never approved of yunho, but he’s inside both of them, fucking them on your shared bed. in your (what was once) home.

you didn’t even want to acknowledge the situation, instead you dropped the target bag at the door of the bedroom, leaving as soon as you could.

hours later, yunho calls. no answer.

you stare as your phone rings.

*32 missed calls from yuyu 🫶🏻✨*

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: hey, sry i didn’t call back. where’d u go?

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: babe?

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: y/n, pick up the phone.

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: not funny.

Read at 12:43AM

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: ur reading my fkn messages but ur not answering n its pissing me off

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: alr whatever lmao dnt pick up.

Today at 5:21AM

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: i cnt sleep, thibkin about yoj

*2 missed calls from yuyu 🫶🏻✨*

you watch your phone ring, waiting for the ringing to stop. your tears flow, deciding to call him back.

“baby? my fucking god, i mis-missed you. *hiccup* had me worried sick.” he slurs. he’s fucking crying.?

“you’re a fucking liar. my best friends? you’re drinking, you piece of shit. and you’re fucking crying?”

“relax, they’re not your best friends and i know that cus they did that to you, plus me and you baby, we don’t belong to each other. been wanting to leave. felt so fucking locked up. you won’t let me do what i want, you controlling fucking psychotic bitch.”

what the fuck.?

you watch the time on the phone call increase as he mumbles what you really meant to him.

you feel like you really did trap him, but you both didn’t agree on a poly relationship. for him to fuck your best friends is an insane thing to do to someone.

you end the phone call after 57 minutes of yunho talking about how much he fucking hated you for never letting him fuck your friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“i’m never talking to that piece of shit again and never bring him up to me. i have things to do, i’ll text you.”

you hung up the phone after 35 seconds.

you’ve grown past the situation with yunho, healing and becoming a better person. you were single, traumatized from your past relationships being a burden on you. but, your best friend wooyoung always supported you through and through. he wanted what was best for you, even though he introduced you to yunho. it wasn’t wooyoungs fault that yunho had fucked up (or was already fucked up), he just wanted to help you find someone. you had your own apartment, your own car and your own lash studio. you were booked for days on end, always working and being your own person.

but, with healing comes pain.

you’d occasionally think about yunho, how he’d pamper you in gifts and he’d take you anywhere you wanted. you thought about the nights that you’d cried to him, he’d hold you in his warm chest, making sure you were held and you didn’t feel alone. you sometimes still toss around in bed, thinking yunho was next to you, on your right side. you’d still bake matcha and white chocolate cookies as if he’d eat them with you, a reminder that you loved yunho— as your love language was baking— and every time you see those cookies, your heart begins to ache.

you pick up your phone and text your best friend, as he’s the only person you go to for anything.

—————-

to: woo 🧍🏻‍♀️

y/n: bitch get up

y/n: r u awake yet

y/n: GET THE FUCK UP BRO ITS AN EMERGENCY

y/n: if ur not up in the nect 5 minutes i’m calling the cips

y/n: next *^ & cops^*

y/n: man i just need to talk 😩 san called me

*seen*

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: girl what the FUCK

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: did u call the cops yet

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: is the cop hot

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: bitch WHI CALLED

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: im calling u rn answer

your best friend calls you in no less than 3 minutes after your series of texts.

“why is san calling you? what’d he want?” wooyoung asks, concern masking his voice.

“woo, i just started feeling like i finally moved on from all that bullshit. he fucking calls me like ‘oh yunho wants to talk to you’ and i’ve been dodging yunho for fucking ever. i know he’s been calling me but-“ you ramble to him. he cuts you off, questioning:

“did you ask him what he wanted from you?”

“it doesn’t matter because im over it and im over fucking everything. its all bad news and i don’t wanna go down that hole again, woo. if you’re so curious ask him yourself. i don’t care and i honestly don’t wanna know.”

“okay. i won’t ask.” wooyoung says in defense. he has a sixth sense, and his sense is telling him that maybe something is wrong with yunho, or maybe he wants to try to give you the closure you deserve. though he already gave you closure— just not the kind you expected from someone you’ve loved for 6 years.

but a part of you really wanted to know why he called. a little portion of your heart still aches for yunho, but you’re healing, remember?

the phone call ends after small talk, and you stare at yunho’s contact info for 7 minutes. you open messages and read the last message he sent you. you have him blocked, but you know it’s his number.

May 19th, 2021 at 3:21AM

*You have new messages from (***)***-**** *

(***)***-****: baby, i’m so sorry.

(***)***-****: you won’t ever forgive me, but i’ve changed. my star, my love, my moon, my sun.

(***)***-****: i can’t sleep anymore.

(***)***-****: i’ll leave you alone, okay?

December 10th, 2022 at 1:21AM

(***)***-****: i can’t live without you.

(***)***-****: it’s been so fucking long

(***)***-****: js need to see ur face. keep staring at the same pic but it was so long ago

(***)***-****: my messages are green, why are they green?

(***)***-****: i met someone today, his name started with an M but i can’t remember what his name was

(***)***-****: he’s helping me heal. ik i don’t deserve to heal but i wanna be better bc u deserve better

(***)***-****: i wanna be the one for u my love

(***)***-****: i fucked up but pls believe me when i say i’ll change for u bb

(***)***-****: i’m going to sleep, goodnight my angel

January 8, 2023 at 7:08PM

(***)***-****: everythibg remjnds me of u baby

(***)***-****: ur everywhere i go

(***)***-****: ur everything i see

(***)***-****: mingi won’t let me live diwn what i did to u

(***)***-****: i deserve to fucking die

(***)***-****: i really lost u

Today at 10:32PM

(***)***-****: i still miss you, my love.

(***)***-****: want you to carry my children and be in my life forever.

(***)***-****: i’ve bettered myself. i’ve changed, please let me see you again.

*seen*

shortly after you open his book of messages, your phone rings.

*2 missed calls from (***)***-**** *

———————

you watch your phone ring twice, your heart dropping 6 times over, you didn’t think he would be this bad about it, but maybe he aches for you the same way you ache for him.

maybe yunho is sorry. maybe he changed and maybe he wants to be with you again.

your phone rings again, the same phone number showing up, as your shaky hands press the green button.

silence. the first 8 seconds is silent as yunho tries to process and come up with what he’ll say to you.

he tried calling you for 3 years on end, you’d blocked him. he was so used to your voicemail being the only thing left of you to heal him.

“h-hello?” there it is. the voice you refused to hear for almost 4 years, its there. it’s no longer only in your head, it’s his voice on the other side of the 7 inch screen against your ear.

his voice makes your stomach twist and turn, your hands sweating as your chest forms a hole within itself.

“you don’t need to say anything, just listen to me, hm? you can hang up any second you want, but if your heart still aches for me the way mine does for you, you’d listen.

my love. i’ve ruined you and tore you to shreds. i don’t even know where i begin. you are the most precious thing that has ever happened to me. the minute you entered my life, i took you for granted and fucked up. i didn’t realize how much i loved you or how much you meant to me until you left. that night is a blur to me, you didn’t deserve any of that. you deserve to be treated like royalty, you deserve to be treated in the most beautiful and enchanting way because that is how you made me feel. but i went and fucked that up for the both of us. i didn’t mean what i said to you. i was drunk but that’s no excuse to talk to you the way i did. it’s not right. it never was.

the only time i ever find myself doing right is when i beat myself up for doing you wrong.

i stay at the same apartment, san comes over and does whatever he needs to do but i haven’t touched a drug since you left me. the minute you left was the minute i decided to better myself. mingi is helping me be the person i want to be for you. my god, i hate myself for everything ive done to you. i’m not asking for your forgiveness, i know you won’t give it to me. but i want you to know that i still am here and i still love you. i love you better and i love you the way you deserve.

are you still with me, y/n?”

he breathes. you breathe. you finally breathe.

“i- yunho. i don’t know how to feel about any of this, you really hurt me and i can’t trust anyone anymore. you fucked my best friends, in our room. i don’t even know why i even looked at my phone or why i even answered san when he called me. i’m doing better, but you calling me again is really making me feel like i’m falling down that hole again.” you try your hardest to not let him hear you grow weak to his confession. his heart caved in, and his stomach grew empty when you’d brought up his mistake.

“i understand. i won’t push or do anything to make you uncomfortable. but, i want to have coffee with you, or one of us can come over and we can talk about this, hm?”

you sigh. you felt like all the healing and all the self care you’ve been doing is going straight down the drain.

but do you wanna listen to what he has to say?

“i’m free tomorrow afternoon. but i can’t stay long.” is all you say. you don’t wanna keep this conversation going, nor do you even want to talk about this at all. you are growing selfish; only wanting to see yunho because you miss the attention you used to get from him.

“as long as i get to see you, its okay. i look forward to talking to you, y/n. been waiting forever. is 4:30 fine with you?” he sniffles and lets out a calm chuckle from within his throat.

he’s aching just as much as you are.

“yes. goodnight, yunho.”

“goodnight, star.” that nickname. the same nickname that dragged you into his lore. he speaks lightly. the phone call ends and he sounds like an angel, making your head spin and your heart confused.

you don’t know whether to trust yunho again because, maybe, he is sorry. maybe he wants to make things right with you.

for the rest of the night, you cannot sleep. you don’t decide on going tomorrow, you really don’t want to face yunho after what he did to you. after 4 hours of tossing and turning, rereading texts from yunho, drinking water, and listening to nothing but the buzzing in your ear, you finally manage to get sleep.

—————————————————————————————

first fic!! yay!! i know yall are gonna hate yunho because what he did to y/n is trash and ass and all of the above. i hope you guys start to understand yunho further in the story. idk what im gonna do with this fic but i hope i come up with part 2 in a timely manner cus i dont want it to be dragged lol. but!!!!!!!!!! i hope you all like this fic just as much as i HATE it 😋

#Spotify #kpop smut #ateez #ateez fanfic #kpop #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #yunho #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #jung yunho #m: yunho #yunho fluff #SoundCloud

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malleusfucker · 2 years

Text

a night with leona and malleus

warnings: smut/nsfw, angry sex, unprotected sex, just malleus and leona being greedy bastards, reader is afab but no gender or pronouns are explicitly specified - i tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible

synopsis: threesome with leona & malleus, they’re both irritated with how you’ve been leading them on so in turn they both come to an agreement to fuck you at the same time just to basically ruin you.

words: 2k

this is my first ever smut that i tried to write in detail so pls ignore if its shit 😭 my grades in english were terrible so dont judge 😐 also i might as well change my user to malleus&leonafucker bc at this point theyre all i can write about LMAO

you can say that you have a very fickle mind. suddenly being placed in a college with so many different and eccentric characters out of the blue definitely piqued your interest. some can say it was almost too much - your eyes constantly diverting to different faces making you act in a way that you never did before, though, that being a result of two people in particular. leona kingscholar and malleus draconia.

since the moment you set foot in the college, you haven't been able to take your eyes off the two dorm leaders, whose very presence causes you to sweat and shuffle your feet under your desk. and albeit challenging, being placed in classes with them gave you the opportunity to eventually get rid of the itch you'd get under your collar.

the auras that both malleus and leona exuded were so attractive and tempting in their own different ways that they just served to further confuse you every day. you became increasingly irresponsible as you got to know them better with each class, to the point where you would ultimately steal kisses from both of them. you never considered your relationships with them to be anything more than casual sexual encounters; nothing more than that. every time you got close with the two stunning princes, with academic prowess you'd never see in a million years, it both humbled you and boosted your ego.

however, you were terribly naive in assuming you could mislead the two men for your own selfish ends because one thing you were unfortunately unaware of was that they were anything but dumb.

malleus and leona both slowly caught onto your little game - taking note of how you would focus all of your attention on one of them while ignoring the other. to put it mildly, it infuriated them. and to add salt to the wound, they were fiercely competitive with one another, and seeing how you treated them like toys led them to reach a bizarre agreement.

…

you were comfortably asleep in your run-down dorm in the middle of the night when all of a sudden, a hand violently ripped your bedsheets off of you. your eyelids slowly opened as the chill began to spread across your flesh, only to be greeted by two sets of brilliant green eyes. “apologies for intruding on you at such an odd time like this-” the taller male with horns, who was clutching the bed frame at your feet, smirked at you eerily. immediately, you widened your eyes and repositioned yourself so you were sitting up straight

“wh- leona?! malleus?! what the hell are you doing here? how did you get in-” without even being able to finish your sentence, leona grabbed your face and forcefully pulled you towards both of them grimacing at you with disgust “huh, you got some guts actin’ so innocently like that - ‘just pisses me off even more” you were trying so hard to spit your words out but the more you tried the harder leona gripped your face - it only resulted in your body starting to tremble and fear bubbling up in your stomach.

you were so confused, what did they want with you? and especially at this hour? all these questions were racking your brain but were immediately cut short when the two princes simultaneously pinned you aggressively onto your bed.

with leona’s firm hand still covering your mouth, you unexpectedly felt a long wet tongue lick a stipe up your exposed neck eventually leading up to the shell of your ear. you yelped at the sudden attention and darted your eyes to your left where you saw malleus leaning against you lowering his hand towards your crotch. the two men were only encouraged by your muffled voice and became more ready to humiliate you.

without warning, malleus pulled down your shorts and slipped his hand inside your pants. his gentle fingers caressed your sensitive spot on your body, turning your dread into shameful pleasure. the two men already had you at their mercy without even touching you that much. and with your arousal increasing by the second, all you wanted was for them to touch and fondle you more. whilst malleus showed some generosity towards you, leona, on the other hand, did not. he hated everything about the situation, just the idea alone that you were secretly getting intimate with malleus whilst also being the same with him made him gag and gave him all the more reason to just completely break you.

whilst malleus was palming your crotch, he leaned in and kissed your lips sweetly. it was his touch that reminded you exactly why you enjoyed his company so much - everything he does is just filled with grace and tenderness which just made this situation feel all the more surreal. you closed your eyes and gave into his kiss, letting his tongue inside your mouth, feeling his slender fingers slowly ease inside of you, making you moan. he steadily pumped his fingers in and out of you, noticing all the slick start to drip from his hand making him smirk against your mouth.

“oi.”

leona interrupted your kiss by once again grabbing your face, but this time he seemed more spiteful than before. “this wasn’t a part of the agreement.” leona scowled and glared across to malleus, still thrusting and curling his fingers inside of you making you rut your hips up against them “hm? what’s the problem?” leona scoffed, furrowing his brow “you don’t get to have all the fun you fucking bastard.” he grabbed malleus’ hand which was in your pants and snatched it away from your body.

the immediate absence of the pleasure that was slowly building up inside of you made you gasp and you opened your eyes to see leona quickly shove malleus’ fingers straight into your mouth. “ngh!-” you gagged at the sudden force being pressed against the back of your throat and looked over at malleus to see a face of brief shock quickly turn into smugness. “hehe… well go ahead kingscholar. they’re all yours.” the sound of their bickering back and forth over what they were going to do to you made you feel a lot more excited than you’d like to admit and you were beginning to feel restless.

fortunately for you, leona could smell how aroused you were, but due to his arrogant attitude, he was more than furious. you weren't the only one who became restless though, as leona began to fumble with his belt buckle and threw it across the floor.

while you were kissing malleus, you were unaware of how hard leona was getting just from the sight of you, although feeling guilty about it. he pulled down his pants and let his dick spring free which hit against his stomach before pumping it a few times, pearls of pre-cum started to gently emerge on the head. he then took hold of your hair and forced your face into his crotch, causing you to abruptly gag as the length of his member forced its way inside of your mouth. he didn’t give you any time to adjust or even make you realise what was going on and suddenly snapped his hips up towards you and pushed your head down even further.

tears already pricked at the corners of your eyes and you felt shame like you had never experienced - the shame being that you have never felt this aroused in your life before.

leona started to grunt and grind against your face, his grip on your hair only getting harsher and his pace getting more brutal.

“hah~ you’re so… fucking disgusting you know that?” he continued to blurt out insults to you, only deepening your guilt and humiliation but just turning you on even more to his surprise.

you were gagging and unable to breathe but even so, you couldn’t ignore the throbbing ache you were feeling from your crotch - wishing that something, someone could relieve you of your frustration. luckily for you though, that’s exactly what malleus was there for.

he could see how your body twitched and how your desire trickled down your thighs and onto the bed from behind. malleus eventually made the decision to satisfy your hunger out of kindness for you.

he grabbed your legs and propped them up so that you were on all-fours. leonas hand still holding your head in a vice, malleus gently touched your crotch. he massaged his fingers in between your wet folds, causing you to whimper and stick your butt into the air to give him better access.

“hehe, so eager.. you do know that you’re the one that caused all of this?” following suit, malleus undid his pants and released both of his cocks, which had already begun to ache when he entered your room.

malleus seemed to be a nice man, yet his actions were anything but. he lined up against your entrance, briefly rubbing the tip against your slit, and slammed his hips into you, giving you no opportunity to prepare. your already watering eyes quickly were screwed shut as a result of the unexpected force and pain. you tried to cry out, but your voice was stifled by leona's length as he continued to abuse the back of your throat and forcibly shoved his way in and out of your mouth.

it was a matter of seconds before malleus started to rock his hips, one of his dicks brutally assaulting your insides whilst the other slapped against your crotch with each thrust. you were starting to dreadfully realise that the two dorm leaders weren’t here for you, but instead to use you just like you had used them.

as malleus's pace intensified and became more severe, his delicate touch started to lose meaning. when leona saw his climax approaching, he abruptly slammed your face right down to the base and sprayed all of his pent-up cum into the back of your throat. he shoved your face up from his dick, releasing your mouth with an embarrassingly loud ‘pop’ all the while your hole was getting constantly assaulted by the darker-haired male behind you.

as leona descended from his high and malleus continued to drive into you, the room was filled with gasps and moans. now that your mouth was free, your whimpers and whines were becoming louder by the second. you could feel malleus’ cock throb more intensely inside of you. after what felt like hours of agonising pleasure, he spewed thick ropes of cum into you, filling you to the point where it seeped out of your hole. when the two men got you in this position, they felt even more determined to treat you more brutally. you were drained, out of breath, and your legs were shaking like never before wishing that they would be easy on you.

malleus bared his fangs as he slowly pulled out of you, noticing all of his cum spilling from out of you.

while malleus was thrusting into you leona sat surprisingly patient, pumping his cock in his hand waiting for his turn. and now that malleus had finished with you he wasted no time before he quickly pounced on you. you were still catching your breath before you felt another cock thrust its way inside of you with no warning. your pleas and cries were starting to become insignificant and only made the two men want to fasten their pace.

hours went on, them constantly switching turns and thrusting more and more cum inside of you every time. your mind had gone white, having lost count of how many times you climaxed and your body had gone limp.

it was clear as day to you that the two dorm leaders were just using you for their own sadistic pleasure and feared how long they would continue as they didn’t show any signs of stopping.

every round was seemingly more intense than the last. to the point where malleus’ frustration started to spill out onto you, though not showing it as much as leona.

he was still angry with you for secretly getting with leona behind his back and it showed with each thrust getting more merciless and rough. his claws digging deeper into the flesh of your thighs, making your legs buckle from underneath you from all the stimulation.

your moaning of both their names rang in their ears as they continued their plan to completely break you. you could see how leona's chest was heaving from all the rounds he was having with you, but because of his stuck-up pride, he didn't want to stop until he and malleus were sure that you had learned your lesson to not play around with them.

you could see in the corner of your eye that the sun was slowly beginning to rise and you could hear the faint sound of birds chirping outside.

you didn’t realise just how long they were going at it for and were surprised that you weren’t passed out from all the overwhelming pain and pleasure they were constantly forcing onto you.

your eyes were slowly starting to shut as you felt the lack of touch on your skin, thinking that they finally finished their torturous game with you. hearing malleus faintly giggle behind you, he gently kissed you on your shoulder before him and leona both made their way out of your dorm.

you felt extremely humiliated, but more than that, you felt exhausted. knowing that it was morning now, you groaned at the thought of having to go to your lessons and worse - having to see the two dorm leaders in your class after having the most intense night of your life.

you were certain of one thing though. that you were never going to toy with leona and malleus ever again.

nah bc this was surprisingly so fun to write considering how shite i am at writing longer stuff but also how tf do yall not end up writing 10k words it was so hard not to write a whole ass novel omg 😭😭 but hey im just horny for these two n just wanna fuck the shit outta them lmao

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lilliankoo · 7 months

Text

wanna play you like a game: jeon jungkook. 0

series masterlist!

pairing: villian? antagonist! tribe leader jk x princess! y/n.

trope: "he's mean to everyone but worships the ground you walk on" will absolutely do anything for you, strangers to lovers.

word count: 1.5k-ish (short caus this is an intro?)

warnings: nothing too bad lmao….yet. conditions, mentions abt blessings from a deity/goddess, power dynamics, talks abt manipulating a man *clears throat*, bowing, one forehead kiss 😘, controlling mother. I apologize if I missed anything.

author’s note: how dare i release a new series while titanic! is barely done.. english is not my first language so…, not a professional writer. im an occasional writer meaning I write when i feel like writing or get that random motivation so expect slightly late updates.

While humming one of the lullabies she used to sing to you as a child, your mother finishes braiding the pink ribbon in your hair. She reaches for the brush on the dresser and brushes your hair one last time. She looks at you, more like your reflection in the mirror, as she places her brush-clad hand on your shoulder. As you stare at her, your brows are furrowed and your lips are pursed. Your mother makes eye contact and adds, "You dread me now, but trust me, you will thank me later." "How can you treat your own daughter like this?" You ask her with grief in your voice but have given up fighting her for whatever reason. You have made the choice not to yell and cry at your mother's heartless decision.

Being the only daughter of “mir konvo’s” king, you truly don't have any other choice. you got to know yesterday that you are being "offered" to the head of the forest tribe, Jeon Jungkook; who is even more powerful than your father's entire empire and is known as the most powerful man. His forest known as “lav” completely encloses your "mir konvo", While Jeon Jungkook dominates the entire Lav Forest, your father rules Mir Konvo-which is also known as the “heart of lav” since its right in the middle of the forest. For hundreds of years, your kingdom and the Jeon tribe had a peaceful agreement under which your people were permitted to use the forest trail to conduct trade with other kingdoms, with no involvement on the part of the Jeon tribe. However, the Jeon tribe simply requested rice and gold as payment. This agreement has been effective for years, but Jeon Jungkook, the current tribe head, has destroyed it and established a new requirement. He now demands your hand in marriage or otherwise he will seal all pathways leading to the mir konvo, seize control of the kingdom, and assassinate the current king—your father—if you refuse. The entire country is aware of the forest goddess' blessing on the Jeon tribe, according to which no man will ever be able to defeat or oppose them. Which naturally leads to your father immediately signing the treaty and beginning the "preparations" for your marriage out of fear.

Now, back to your question. your mother sighs and stands in front of you. Holding your shoulders, your mother whispers quietly, "Listen to me and listen to me very carefully." "No man can resist a woman in this world. There is a reason a strong man like him would want to wed you. Take advantage of this, dominate him, break him, and make it difficult for him to live without you" she says while looking at you. The venom that drips from her words is quite evident, her jaw is clenched and her hands are digging your shoulders. And you exactly understand what she means by that. you pay keen attention to her words, thinking about them over and over again. looking at your frightened expression, your mother asks you, "Do you understand?" You take a cautious breath and nod hesitantly in agreement.

The entire palace is decorated and adored with white flowers. The orchestra plays a light tune- the atmosphere is serene yet tense. Everyone is displaying their fake contentment but in reality everyone is scared- including you. your father is standing near the window looking outside- his crown is not on his head, royal mantle no longer on his shoulders. from his disheveled hair to dark circles under his eyes- anyone can tell he is distressed. you walk over to him and stand by his side.

“What is on your mind, father?” you ask him. your father sighs deeply and looks at you.

“He is an evil man, your mother is not thinking-” your father’s words are cut abruptly by your mother’s voice.

“I am doing this because of the kingdom’s safety, no man can defeat him, you will die if you stand against him!” your mother shouts at your father. “you are not seeing this through my eyes, nothing will happen to y/n” she adds while maintaining eye contact with him. you stand there confused and look at the encounter between them two. He drops his head low and nods at your mother. He doesn't say anything but looks at you with subtle tears in his eyes.

The moment is cut short when one of the soldier’s runs inside to inform your father that they need to leave as soon as possible. Another condition jungkook proposed was that the marriage will take place in the forest and only three people can join- you, your father and your mother.

That's how you find yourself in a carriage with your parents. your mother is well dressed while your father is dressed modestly. The commute to the lav forest isn’t that far, that's why your carriage reaches the lav village’s entrance gate in 3 hours. you step out of the carriage and your mother quickly helps you fix your skirts and dress. There’s no man in sight to receive your family. Your father looks around to see if there is any member of jeon tribe and he sees no one. The atmosphere is too quiet and serene. The leaves rustle while the wind lightly breezes.

“the carriage stay here, come” a sudden voice of a man coming from behind you pulls you out of your trance. You turn around and see a man no older than 25, dressed in leather and furs, his left hand holding a spare, his long hair reaching his back. He is incredibly handsome- you can't deny that fact. The man looks at you then motions your father to follow him. You and your parents follow the man and enter the village- the route isn’t too difficult, the path is smooth with no stones in sight and you are sure that it was cleared for your comfort and ease. After 10 minutes of walking, the huts and houses start appearing. You can see people sneakingly looking at your family from their windows- some are whispering while others cryptically smile your way.

In some distance you can see a platform and a crowd surrounding it. The stage-like platform is only a few feet taller from the ground, and has two chairs in the centre. You can see few people standing on it having conversations- some are in serious conversation while others are laughing. you and your parents stand a few feet away from the stage and wait for the next instructions. you intertwine your hand with your fathers’ and squeeze it. you look around when suddenly everyone goes silent and falls to their knees- bowing at the person coming out from the big hut- situated behind the platform. The alleged man is dressed in black leather and furs, some of his hair tied back, there’s evident anger and fury in his eyes as he storms your way- in that moment, it is evident that the man walking your way is your future husband- jeon jungkook. Everyone around you is on their knees- including your parents. And out of fear, you bend your knees so you can bow too but suddenly someone grabs both of your shoulders and makes you stand straight. you look up in confusion and see him. Long gone is the anger from his eyes- all you see right now is love and affection. In an instant, Jungkook drops on his knees in front of you and bows. The entire village is bowing to him while he is on his knees for you.

your breath hitches because you do not know what you are supposed to do. Having a powerful man like Jungkook on his knees in front of you is a lot to handle. Your hands shakingly reach for his shoulders and you make him stand up. Jungkook stands up to his full height and towers above you. He cradles your jaw affectionately in both of his hands and kisses your forehead. you're confused and scared. Confused because he is not scary like he is described as and scared because he is alarmingly close to you. You avoid his eyes and look around. Everyone is still on their knees and you feel bad. You look at him and then the people bowing- and surprisingly he understands.

“Everyone stand up!” he shouts and everyone shuffles to stand up.

Then, jungkook smiles at you and your parents before saying “shall we begin the ritual ?”.

next: episode 1 - the pink ribbon

#jungkook fic #jungkook recs #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungguk #jk fic #jungkook possessive #bts fic

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joviepog · 7 months

Note

EEE HI JOVIE again i love love your writing and im so glad youve been enjoying my stuff!! anyway, sweet and simple request-- wilbur and reader having an at home dinner night :)) (if u wanna make it silly tommy could be their "waiter" LMAO)

much love !!

EEK I LOVEE THIS IDEA! ITS SO SIMPLE BUT SO GOOD AHHHHHH

-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡—♡-♡-♡-♡-

Lovely night

Who: Wilbur x f!reader

Warnings: i dont think there is anything but if there is just let me know!

Pronouns: She / they

Word count: I have no clue

Requests: @poraphia

Anything’s else: I actually liked how this turned out! thanks for the idea lovely requester!

This story is NOT proofread

Listen to this while you read! <3

Both you and Wilbur aren’t the richest people around. For you, this was absolutely fine. But for Wilbur?

Well, Wilbur is just a bit disappointed about not being able to spoil you as much as he wants. Since you both have met, he’s been obsessed with getting you little gifts and taking you to cute dates. But what he really wants to do is to be able to take you to the fancy restaurant down the street from your guy’s apartment.

He’s told you about this little problem of his and you cant help but giggle every time he mentions it. The conversation always ends with a kiss on the cheek and the same six words. “Wil, i dont need all that!” But lately he wont stop talking about it. He’s been daydreaming about you in a fancy dress and him in a fancy tux. Not the old cheep one he has for all those dumb occasions. No, he wants to be able to give you a bouquet of roses and a ring that means forever. But most of all, he wants to make you happy.

You’ve noticed that this was starting to get to him. Every time you got home he would give you a kiss and a hug -per usual- then he would start talking about this dress he saw on twitter and how beautiful it would look on you. “And that dress would be perfect for that restaurant!” And every time you say that you dont need all that, he looks like a kid being rejected of a puppy.

And so, you set up a plan. While he was gone on tour, you saved up, took cooking classes, and learned how to do your best makeup possible. You called him up one night, “Hi Wil! Are you busy?” There was a slight pause and he spoke quietly, “No, i just have to be quiet.” You gave a soft laugh and spoke quietly. “I just wanted to make sure i have the right day for when your coming back.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Why?” You pouted, “Why? What, I can’t miss my boyfriend?”

He apologized at least 100 times before he woke Joe up. You said hi to Joe and hung up. “I love you Wil. See you soon?” You asked with a smile. “See you soon.” You hung up and silence fell on the room. You had 1 more week. You bought the dress he had mentioned 1,000 times, you made sure Tommy was free, and you made sure the house was clean. You were ready.

-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-

“I’m two hours away.” he spoke and you could hear the boys in the back teasing him.

you fake sighed, “I guess i’ll just wait here. all alone, and sad, and-“

he stopped you, “Yeah i’ll try to hurry up.”

“No take your time, darling.”

he sighed, “All i want to do is get home and hug you.”

“Aweeee.” you put another fake eyelash on, “I miss you too baby.”

“Wilbur! The taxy is here!”

you laughed and he scoffed, “I’ll see you soon darling.”

“See you soon.” you hung up and looked at yourself in the mirror. you looked amazing. you hair was fixed, and the dress fit nicely just like wilbur said it would. everything was perfect.

2 hours: Tommy got there with a suit and a tie that was ties badly

1 hour 30 minutes: You and tommy set the table and clean the house. you fail to figure out how to tie tommy’s tie

1 hour: you start dinner and Tommy calls phil to help him tie his tie.

30 mins: you finish up dinner and you get out wilbur’s favorite wine

20 mins: you double check everything for 10 minutes

10 mins: you wake up Tommy from his nap and cehck to make sure you look good.

5 mins: you triple check that you look okay and you serve the food.

1 minute: You light the candles

0 mins: You hear a knock.

“Is that him?!?” you say with a cheerful smile. Tommy smiles, “No it’s the mailman.” he jokes. you roll your eyes and open the door. Wilbur has the biggest smile on his face and he’s holding flowers. You close the door behind you, not wanting to ruin the surprise, and jump into his arms. he gives you small kisses all around your face and neck; your giggling at his touch. he finally lets you go and you were so excited to see his reaction.

His eyes widen at the sight of you in the dress and he begins to ask questions. “YN? Where did you-“ you stopped him and grabbed his arm, interlocking your arm in his. you yelled out to tommy, “Ready!” tommy opens the door and the smell of delicious food swept through the door.

The sight of warm lighting and wine glasses were shows on the small table. Warm jazz music was playing and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of Wilbur. His mouth was agape and his eyes completely widened. He turned to look at Tommy, who had his hair slicked back and a napkin on his arm (still holding the door open he cleared his throat.) “Welcome Mr. Gold and Ms. LN. I have your table ready right over there. He nudged his head towards the table and you and Wilbur walked in. Tommy quickly close the door and pulled out the chairs for both you and Wilbur.

Wilbur sat down, still in shock, and looked at his plate. Tommy spoke up, “You see, we already served you food because your girlfriend here, preordered. Wilbur laughed and Tommy grabbed the wine glass. “Tell me when to stop.” He started to pour the wine and Wilbur told him to stop about halfway, you did the same.

“Anything else?” Tommy asked.

“That’ll be all. Thank you.” Tommy winked at you and nodded his head. As he walked away you turned back to Wilbur. “So?” His mouth is still slightly open but soon enough, his cheeky smile appeared back on his face.

“Well, i feel like I’m a bit underdressed.” You both laughed and spent the rest of the night talking while Tommy took photos of both of you.

What a lovely night.

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killerpillar · 3 months

Note

any book recs? looking for something to hold me over inbetween your updates! anything you’ve found yourself pulling inspo from for your fic or that you think a fellow levi fan would love?

hi!!! ofc, i've got plently of fic recs, i'm pretty sure i've read 80% of all levi fics on ao3 atp😭 I sadly have not had the time to read as many fics nowadays like I used to, but here are some of my all time favs!!

(also i apologise, my summary skills are terrible and so it's just me gushing over the fics for a whole paragraph🧎‍♀️)

Death's Door by SongsOfApollo

one of the first fics I read, and a fic that has literally never left my brain since then. It's amazing. It's very popular so I'm sure you've heard about it already if not read it, but if you haven't, it's a must read!! levi x doctor reader!

Dust, Diamonds by maokitty

the best way i can describe this fic is that it drove an iron stake through my heart multiple times, pulled it out, then delicately rearranged the pieces and stitched it back together with gentle fingers. take it how you will but after a certain chapter i stopped reading it bc it was too painful, and then came back two months later to finish it off AND I AM SO GLAD I DID.

A River Of Three Crossings by maokitty

this fic literally ruined my life it was so fucking good but its incomplete and hasn't been updated since 2020 i am SO SAD. but please read this, it's so good, so heart crushing and sweet and amazing I love it sm

ALSO I JUST FUCKING REALISED ITS THE SAME AUTHOUR WHILE WRITING THIS LIST😭

reciprocal sin by captain-hawks (@captain-hawks)

SO UNDERRATED!??! must read, i cannot say anything else but READ THISSS. its a kinky smutty oneshot so make sure you read the content warnings, but its sooo good😭 amazing writing too!

silver soul by oi_levi

sadly this one is incomplete and hasn't been updated since 2021, but it's brilliantttt. if you're craving some good post-war levi fics, then this one's really good!!

also read In the Land of Gods and Monsters by them for a fun time😊

a sip of sunshine by taomyou (@taomyou)

speaking of post-war fics, this one is amazinggg. super cute and fluffy, angsty ending for part 1 (😭) but I know for sure their next part will be worth the wait. also they've got a complete modern au fic called The Romance Of Reimbursements which is so fucking beautiful, definitely read this!!! (also mchs, acoc... yeah just read all of them tbh)

silver underground. by tothestrongones (@amywritesthings)

this one's a recent read, but omfg i cannottt get enough of it. absolutely love this, it's levi x underground reader, amnesia trope done right. 10/10 must read!!!

we all bleed red by littlerequiem (@littlerequiem)

also a recent read, but omfg this fic is so good. it's vampire au, victorian era, slowburn brilliant writing, and healthy communication!?!? no way. checks all the boxes for me😫

Percolate by heichoe

modern coffee shop au, its so good omfg. it's such a cute fic, classic grumpy levi, friends w benefits, lots of smut and the DRAMA gosh. i was so invested, it was so good. (also ur gonna need an account on ao3 to read the fic!!)

this is a story of the sea by shinzouing

this one is levi x erwin x reader (i read it for the levi x reader bc erwin was gonna die anyways lmao) but i fell in loveeee with it!! wonderful writing, amazing story, 10/10 angst & slowburn, a definite must read! (also 20/10 smut, it was so fucking good)

(also literally every fic by wellitcouldbeworse3 on ao3 is amazinggg, check them out if you haven't already. which i'm sure you have, and that is the only reason i haven't listed out all of their fics here😭 The Feeling's Mutual is my fav modern au fic of all time no questions asked)

THIS IS A JUST A FEW!!! if you want more, then feel free to ask, i will gladly rec more <33 and ty for reading my fic btw!! LOVE U LOADS🤗

#fic recs #asks #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan

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beautifulblooms · 6 months

Text

A little catching up - Prince Sidon x Male Reader SMUT

So lmao, I finally got around to writing some nsfw content, this is actually fairly old but I figured I’d dig through some of my old files and post some things, I’m not super proud of this (deadass forgot I had it too, but I hope y’all enjoy it)

Heads-up, this doesn’t exactly reflect my current writing style (didn’t wanna rewrite all 3.2k words of it) so it might read a little funky with the first person reader.

Btw there will be more coming soon too, I’ve got a few projects in the works with CoD stuff.

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

It’s been a long fucking week, first, you had to leave the domain to accompany Link on one of his quests, which left you bruised and pissed off. Then on the way back a blood moon rose to the sky and revived all the lizalfos, the octorocks, bokoblins, moblins, and even a few stray guardians that had landed themselves on the path back up to the domain. Finally reaching the bridge that led straight into the kingdom you sighed, the sun had risen by then and all you wanted to do was lay on Sidon’s stomach while he floated above the deep waters of the East reservoir.

Each step after the other felt forced and almost not your own as your legs began their usual path from the bridge up to the reservoir dam where the bed you had been given resided. Hoping to find your lover sprawled out there waiting for you or swimming within the waters you were sorely disappointed when he appeared to not even be there. Nor had anything changed in the area since you left. The bed was perfectly made from when you last left it. None of the bottles or dishes on the sides had been moved or opened. Even a thin layer of dust had begun to form, strange given the room was open air. Giving into the fact that your royal lover wasn’t there, you lay on the bed after removing your shield, armor, and weapons from their places amongst your body. Pulling the covers over yourself and closing your eyes a deep, well-deserved slumber was yours at last.

As you slept, Sidon was up at Vah Ruta watching over the lands of Hyrule as its red beam was aimed at Calamity Ganon. He had been none the wiser that you returned, your paths hadn’t collided given you could only take the roads home while he could swim all the way to the divine beast if he wished. The sun was directly overhead, noon, when Sidon decided he should head back, missing the comfort of the pools and the joyous laughter of young Zora running about. Climbing down the mountain Sidon wondered if you were back from your trip with Link yet. He only said that you would be gone a week at most, so he counted down the seven days that you were set to be gone. That’s the reason he came all the way up to Ruta, to see if he would be able to find you along the path and walk back to the domain hand in hand.

Once he reached the banks, he began swimming up the rivers, small falls, and finally one of the larger ones leading straight up into the central area of the domain. Asking around if anyone had seen you, the guard stationed at the entrance said you came through and said hello before heading up to the dam. He could’ve settled with a mere nod and would be sent running, but the fact that they told him where you were made him spring faster than he had ever run before. There was no direct path with water to your room, so the bridge and staircase leading up was the only option. Racing up the stairs, nearly falling off around the bends, he makes it to the top and finishes his sprint as he makes it to the bed.

He almost couldn’t help but pick you up and start swinging you around in his arms, but he knew you needed rest and a lot of it. Trips like these with Link always took it out of you and he knew it. Very gently he picked you up in his arms, removing your outer layer of clothes to leave you in a pair of boxers, he headed towards the reservoir. Thank the Goddess you were a deep sleeper, he had no intentions of waking you as he was getting into the lake. Making his way into the water, he turned onto his back with you on his stomach, almost curled up on his abdomen he smiled. He always loved these moments, the world was calm for the two of you, nothing else mattered, it was just you two in a lake with nothing to bother you.

It was nearly dark when you woke up, gently lifting your head, the surroundings set in rather quickly. You were no longer in the bed you fell asleep in, instead, you laid on your lover's chest, in the middle of the reservoir, at dusk.

“Good morning my darling,” he said in a quiet but excited tone, he could only hold back so much joy that you were awake.

“Good morning, well, it’s evening isn’t it” you giggled lightly at the end of your statement, happy to be where you were.

“I’m happy you’re back” Sidon spoke calmly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.

“I’m happy to be back, and in the one place I favor most of all, with you” Pushing back into his palm you smiled, locking eyes with the prince.

“What shall we do now that you’re awake? We could keep floating out here, go lay in your bed, watch the night sky, explore the mountains, what do you wish to do?” Sidon rattled off the first things he could think of for you both to do now that you were revitalized after your long journey.

“I think I have a better plan my prince, let’s get back to land first” There was a glint in your eyes as you said it, he couldn’t figure out what you meant by it but agreed nonetheless and started using his feet to kick you both back to the dam.

Standing on solid ground you stretch your limbs out, a few creaks here, a crack there, and a happy sigh leaves your lips. Coming up behind you Sidon wraps his arms around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him.

“So what did you have in mind my dear?” He whispered, the moment was peaceful and he dared not break it.

“How about we spend some quality time together, on my bed, for a few hours, and possibly have some fun while we’re at it?” There was that glint in your eyes, once again he couldn’t quite figure it out, but with the way your tone relayed its sultry message, he came to understand very quickly.

“I think that’s a lovely idea, but I do have a question,” you hummed, urging him to continue, “who’s going to be on top?”

“I’ve been gone far too long, and I want to please you my prince, allow me to do so.” Turning around to face him you started running a hand up his chest, leaving it near his pecs as he thought over his response.

“Then be my guest” Sidon replied huskily as he unwrapped his arms from you and headed towards your bed. Once in your small room, the boxers you had left yourself in were thrown to the side, next to everything you stripped off before your slumber. Sidon laid himself back on the bed, it was just big enough to where he could stretch his legs out and they had a couple inches before the end of the mattress. Spreading his legs apart with a hand on either of his knees, you scoot between them.

“How rough do you want me to be?” A normal question you would ask before sex, always wanting to make sure you weren’t too rough on the Zora.

“As rough as you please,” the look he gave you said more than his words did, needing no further response you continued to move closer to his crotch. Beginning to push onto his sheath, two tips began to poke their way through. A groan leaves Sidon’s mouth as you continue to prod at his sheath, he’s not all too used to having someone else do it for him. Finally able to see half of his cocks, you begin to lightly tug on them as well, encouraging them to fully come out. With a little more pressure and jerking of the lengths, they are fully erect and out of their sheath. Sidon locked eyes as you began to kiss the tip of each cock, a small whimper escapes him when the kisses become sloppier and precum starts to leak from his slits. Now you have deep-throated one of his lengths before, and while you’ve tried both, it’s never been possible for you. That was going to change today. Taking one into your mouth, you start the usual routine.

Sucking on one while your hand slowly pumps the other, after about a minute or two, you switch dicks, using your saliva as a lube of sorts to make it easier to jack him off.

“Oh my Goddess, (y/n) please keep going, you feel so good.” All Sidon could do was beg you to keep going and moan out with how good you made him feel. Pulling off his cock, you began to jerk both lightly, then you pushed both tips to your lips. Sidon let out a gasp as you took the first few inches of both cocks into your mouth. “Please don’t hurt yourself dEAR-“ his words were cut off with a moan as you shoved another few inches into your mouth. His lengths were equal in size, but they were not small in any capacity, both were long and thick, so 5-6 inches deep into both you could feel the tears beginning to streak down your face.

Once you got comfortable with that bit in your mouth you started bobbing your head, pushing a little bit further each time you went down. Eventually, you managed to get both cocks to the back of your throat, feeling the tips smack into your throat was a shock, a painfully pleasant one. Sidon put a hand on your head as he tried to steady himself with how much pleasure he was receiving from you. Moans and grunts were all he could produce at this point, too overwhelmed to form words let alone a sentence. Slowly speeding up once you felt his hand grip

your (h/l) (h/c) locks, the moans he let out became louder and higher pitched, he was coming close to his peak, and that only spurred you on further.

Thankful for the distance you had from the domain now more than ever as his volume somehow only increased. His hand never actually pushed you down further or faster than you went, he knew you were providing more than enough pleasure for him that he dared not intervene. A few more bobs of your head and he came, shooting stream after stream of thick cum down your throat. A lovely thing about Zora, their sperm glows in the dark, a beautiful thing to see especially when it’s nighttime. As you pulled off his cocks, a small bit of his cum dribbled out of the corner of your mouth. Swallowing whatever was in your mouth still, you made eye contact, heaving right after and moving forward to kiss Sidon.

“Every time I taste you, you only get better my prince.” Your words made him moan into the kiss, only able to speak between the searing lip lock you were caught in. As you moved a hand to his face, the other was busy at his ass, finding his hole rather quickly before using some of his own cum as lube. Pushing a finger in he moaned into the kiss once more, before you pulled away to scoot back on the bed. Making yourself level with his hole you began to stick your tongue inside of it, licking and opening him gently with the wet muscle before coming back in with a finger and then two. Scissoring those gently before getting rougher and rougher in your motions, a third finger is added as the process repeats once more.

“How do you feel Sidon, how do I make you feel?” Asking for his praise he moans and manages to get a few words out.

“Amazing! No one else could ever make me feel the way you make me feel!” Finally getting what you want, you remove your fingers, pleased with how stretched he is. Using some of your own spit left on your hand, you lube up your cock before aligning it with his hole. Slowly pushing the tip in he grabs at the sheets, trying to go slowly even with the urge to shove your whole length into him. Inch by inch you work your dick into his tight hole, reaching your pelvis you stop and let him rest with your dick fully inside. Sidon taps your thigh giving you a “go ahead” before you start moving slowly. Pulling out to the tip you push back in slowly, once you set this slow steady pace Sidon takes a couple of minutes to get used to it before begging you to speed up.

“Please (y/n), go faster please, we both know I can take it.” His words just urge you to pull out and slam back in. A shrill moan is ripped from his lips as you start a brutal pace into him. He was right about one thing, he could take whatever you gave him. Continuing the pace you grab his thighs, attempting to just push them up so his legs are bent. You continue with his legs like that for a good while before you decide you want to be deeper into your lover. Grabbing the back of his thighs you push them to lay on his chest, the new angle allows you to shove yourself all the way into his hole.

“BY THE GODDESS YES!” Sidon screams at the top of his lungs, his prostate well abused by now as your tip continues to jackhammer away at it. At some point, he grabs his legs by himself and holds them to his chest to allow you to use your arms for whatever you please. A hand went to his throat while the other went to his cocks, lightly squeezing his throat and jacking him off at the same time. It took very little time with all this stimulation to cum for the second time that night, the luminescent liquid splattering his chest, yours as well, your hands, and some even made it to his face.

“Look at you all covered in your own cum, how beautiful it is to see you glowing from it.” A chuckle followed your statement as you continued your brutal pace into his asshole. Letting go of his cocks to let them rest after orgasm, your other hand went to support you by holding onto his thigh. It only took another dozen thrusts or so before you were pouring your cum into his ass, filling him up with more than just your dick. Pulling out you let yourself catch your breath as Sidon stared up at you, blissed out and the happiest he’s ever been. “How about one more hm?” He perked up at your words, confused by what you meant. Then it all clicked when he saw you pulling his thighs down and straddling his waist.

“Wait (y/n) I just came and so did you, shouldn’t we wait a minute?” He hurriedly spoke, trying to figure out your rush in movement.

“But the best pleasure comes from that.” The words you spoke were full of lust, and nothing but it as you started to slowly grab and jerk off his cocks. Rising up above them, you aligned both with your own hole, slowly pushing down. Now you were not stretched nearly as much as he was for your cock, so the process of sinking down took much longer. Managing to get both tips in, you sit there for a moment, letting you both adjust to the feeling, then half an inch further, a rest, half an inch, rest, an inch, rest. This continued until you were sitting on both cocks, both deep inside your ass, brushing your prostate just by sitting there. Slowly you pulled your hips up, pulling out until his cocks were halfway out of you, then falling back down onto them. Doing this again and again you tried to set a pace for yourself on his massive lengths.

Finally getting a steady pace you pull out until nothing but his tips are inside you, then slam back down. You both moan louder than ever and then you do it again, lift up, slam down. Continuing over and over again, until you are simply fucking yourself dumb on his cocks. You knew his orgasm was approaching quickly when he started to grasp at your thighs and thrust up slightly when you came down. With his help thrusting up, you started to feel that oh-so-familiar knot bundling up in your stomach. Keeping up the pace you set, it took not more than 10 minutes before you both came in sync. Your cum shot onto his chest and face while he shot into your ass, filling you so much that it began to leak out around his cocks.

You sat there for a good while, not wanting to move from the rather comfortable position. After roughly 15 minutes you slowly pulled his softened cocks out of you, cum dripped out of your stretched hole and he was covered in it. Moving to lay beside him, you collapsed once you weren’t directly over him, shimmying closer to his larger frame for warmth.

“Was that enough pleasure for you my prince?” You ask quietly, not able to raise your voice with how sore your throat is.

“That was more than pleasure my dear, that was ecstacy and nirvana.” He gazed down at you as he spoke each word was quieter than the last. Sleep was slowly becoming a need for both of you, but not wishing to sleep covered in layers of cum you stood up and walked to the lake.

“Are you going to come wash yourself or are you going to lay there covered in cum?” Turning around to face Sidon, he moved his head up to look at you, not even thinking twice before standing up very slowly and carefully, having orgasmed three times he was shaky. Grabbing your hand, you both stepped into the lake and started to wash yourselves. Moving closer to the Zora you started helping him wash off some of the sweat and semen from his chest and face. Once you were both clean, you’d stepped out of the lake and walked back to the bed. Sidon’s cocks had gone back into their sheath by now, but you just grabbed your boxers you haphazardly discarded earlier and slipped them on.

Sidon removed the cum and sweat-covered sheets on the bed before grabbing a fresh set for you both to sleep on. Laying down he opened his arms, awaiting you to climb into bed with him to sleep. Falling into his arms, you snuggled ever closer to his chest before closing your eyes.

“Goodnight my prince, I love you.”

“I love you as well my dear, sleep well.”

#male reader #male reader fanfic #x male reader #mlm account #nblm account #prince sidon x male!reader #prince sidon x reader #prince sidon #sidon botw #botw fanfiction #loz botw #botw #prince Sidon botw #smut #botw smut

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villain-sympathizer · 8 months

Note

For you, what if (au) sir night eye survives, but he can’t do a lot of serious hero work due to is injuries.

So you can think is either some domestic fluff scenarios or maybe some, spices once perhap?

YES THANK YOU sorry this took so long, i worked on this in bits over the summer since i wanted to relax (plus i was rarely at my laptop to write anyway lmao)

i was going to make this smutty but i felt burnt out so its just hurt/comfort fluff!

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Reduced

[Survived AU; Nighteye x Reader/Significant other]

[Contents: Hurt/comfort, body image issues, descriptions of scars and amputated limbs]

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Mirai was never insecure over anything about his appearance, at least not anything the public would criticize him about. Not his hair, not his wrinkles, nor his abnormally long neck, not even his permanent resting-bitch-face. Really, the only thing he was at least a little concerned about was how cold he’d come off as to others, and luckily he’d been getting better at that. Mirai never cared how he looked, as long as he was clean and professional about his appearance.

At least, that was the case. Then the Hassaikai raid happened.

As blessed as he is to even be alive, to watch the world laugh and to be able to smile back at them, he can’t deny that the injuries to his body were… quite the eyesore.

Despite being fitted with a new bionic arm to replace the one that needed to be amputated, he still had to take it off at night to sleep, causing him to stand there in the mirror and stare at the scars. Scars that weren’t just on what was left of his arm, but a giant, discolored one on both his front and back abdomen that warped the skin in crooked patterns. His partner joked lightly about it with him, saying that he matched All Might now, making him a true number one fan; and as amusing and ironic as Mirai found that, it still never lessened the lingering disgust he felt looking at the damage done to his body.

“You’re feeling insecure about it again, Mir, aren’t you?” His partner, [Name], spoke up as they closed the door to their shared bedroom, making Mirai jolt slightly in surprise. He must have forgotten to close the bathroom door before getting ready for bed, and they caught him staring at his body in the mirror after he finished brushing his teeth.

With a small sigh, Mirai pulled himself out of his thoughts and began placing his stuff back in the cabinet, bionic arm whirring softly each time his elbow joint moved. “No, just… lost in thought, is all,” he responds. It wasn’t a total lie, since he was technically thinking deeply on things - it’s just they also happened to be about his scars.

There was the soft padding of feet across the hardwood floor, disrupted only briefly then they must have walked over the rug by the bed, before Mirai saw his spouse appear in the mirror next to him. “Does it ache today? I can go get your meds,” they offered, placing a reassuring hand on his right, non-injured shoulder.

“No, I’ve been surprisingly fine this week,” Mirai says as he closes the cabinet gazing at [Name] through the mirror, a small, relaxed smile on his face. They really have been such a help during his healing and his adjustment to living without an arm. While Mirio, Toshinori, and his crew back at the agency were also helpful and accommodating, he couldn’t help but feel as if they were… pitying him, almost.

But [Name]... they didn’t pity him.

They showed him true sympathy and compassion, while letting him do what he still could without babying him all the time. Being a Pro-Hero themselves, they knew how humiliating it is to be waited on hand-and-foot when one is injured so severely. They were his grounding force throughout his few years of healing, even going so far as to check in on him back at his agency, now that he was back in the workforce - likely to make sure he wasn’t doing any fieldwork, and stuck purely to his office. Normally he’d get annoyed if someone was constantly barging in to ‘check on him’, but with [Name], he’s come to love their daily visits to his office. Sometimes it was to have lunch with him, other times it was just to chat and have a break from hero work, often still in their hero suit.

Mirai couldn’t ask for a better way to spend his work days.

“You’re thinking again, love,” [Name]’s voice cuts through his memories, bringing him back to the present where they both stood in their pajamas in the florescent light of their shared bathroom. Despite staring at his shirtless, scarred torso, he found that none of his thoughts were actually about the injury at all.

“Just thinking of you,” Mirai hums in response, turning his head to press a kiss to his spouse’s forehead. “And how much of a mess I would be without you here to help me.”

They give him a warm smile, their hand gripping his shoulder softly in reassurance. “Good, just think about that anytime you start to feel bad about your scars. That’s what your therapist said to do, right? Make positive correlations instead?” [Name] reminds him, moving out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. “Now let's get some rest, we both have to be up early tomorrow.”

Taking one last look in the mirror, Mirai lets out a deep breath before turning and following his spouse back to their shared bed. He takes a seat on his side of the bed, reaching over with his good arm to undo the straps and mechanics of his bionic arm, letting out a quiet grunt of frustration when one of the clasps wouldn’t budge from the angle he was reaching at. Despite it being only a couple years since his injury, they were still trying to perfect a permanent prosthetic arm for him, one with the capabilities to allow him use of his quirk through touch. Something like that required time and dedicated work for it to be successful.

Before Mirai could become even more frustrated at the straps he spent years clasping and unclasping on his own, he felt a gentle touch against his shoulder blade where the clasp was, and pressure of the strap suddenly lifted as the bionic arm came loose to expose the scarred end of his upper arm.

“You looked like you needed some help,” [Name]’s voice speaks up from behind him, soft and quiet to fit the calm atmosphere that the night always seemed to bring when they were getting ready for bed. “Sorry if you didn’t need it. You just seemed to be getting frustrated.”

Carefully placing his bionic arm in a special case next to the bed, Mirai gives his spouse an appreciative hum. “I was, so thank you,” he replies, sitting back up with a sigh. “It seems even now, fully healed, I still need help with the dumbest things that I should have perfected by now,” he mumbled, mostly to himself, but [Name] could hear him loud and clear.

They move closer to him from their side of the bed, wrapping their arms around his torso and resting their head against his shoulder, careful of his injury despite it being healed. “It’s okay to need help, even when you’ve mastered a skill or task,” [Name] says to him, their voice muffled slightly by his shoulder. “No one is perfect at anything, not even someone who spent their entire lives mastering something. Everyone needs assistance at some point, and it’s in our nature to help. You suffered a terrible injury that left you handicapped, when all your life you’ve gotten used to using both hands to do things.”

Feeling Mirai tense a little beneath their hold, they press a reassuring kiss to his shoulder blade. “But that doesn’t make you broken, or stupid, or useless, or unable to perform the tasks you used to. Adjusting to life with one less limb when you’ve grown up with all of them is insanely hard, and I can barely imagine what it’s like. Now look at me, Mir,” [Name] continues, lifting their head so that they can gaze up at their husband’s face.

When they saw those golden iris’ peer down at them after a moment, [Name] gives him a warm smile. “No matter how small or lame the task, I’m always more than willing to help you. I will never think any less of you for what you are or aren’t able to do anymore, because I love and care about you. You are my husband - my soulmate, Mirai. No matter what happens to you, I’ll still love you, so, so much,” their words slowly trailed off into a soft mumble, nuzzling their face against his neck as Mirai leans his head down to the side to rest atop of his spouse’s.

“Even if I’m a burden?” He mutters, voice uncharacteristically low and fragile.

“You’re not a burden,” [Name] reminds him, their embrace tightening ever so slightly. “Not to me. Not to anyone. I’d wait on you hand and foot for the rest of eternity and not once feel like you’re burdening me at all.”

Their voice started to wobble, and Mirai could feel a few tears gently gliding across his shoulder and back.

“I almost lost you,” [Name] choked out. “I’ll do anything to make sure you’re comfortable and safe. I fear that if I don’t- that if I don’t appreciate every moment you’re still here with me, then I’ll never get the chance, because I never know if one day you’ll just be gone,” they take in a small, stuttered breath, their hold on Mirai loosening as he carefully turns to face them.

His brows were furrowed in concern, his right arm coming up to gently touch the side of their face, the tips of his fingers brushing away a few stray tears. “I’m not going anywhere,” he starts with, voice low and comforting in a way no one would believe would come from the notoriously stoic Sir Nighteye. “I’ve retired from on-field duty, and like you said, my health is only improving,” Mirai says as he leans in to press a comforting kiss to [Name]’s forehead. He never realized they were holding in such a burden, constantly fretting that he one day might just keel over, or have his existence wiped away during what should have been a simple rescue mission. It made his heart heavy knowing that they were suffering from such anxiety while caring for him, yet it flattered him in a sense to know they cared about him just as much as he cared about them, too.

“I survived a stone spear through my torso and arm - God himself will have to kill me if he wishes to separate us.” That got a breathy chuckle out of his partner, Mirai himself smiling at the small victory. He loathed seeing loved ones cry, especially the person whose laugh and smiles always made his day that much better.

[Name] brings a hand up to wipe at their tears, giving Mirai a grin, although a bit melancholy. “Exactly. So please, Mir, don’t think for a second that I would love you any less than before that terrible day, okay?” They say to him, hands reaching over to gently grip both his shoulders from behind. “I don’t mind taking care of you, especially when you need it the most. It’s okay to need help with something you can’t safely do yourself. I can’t tell you how many times I needed you to reach for something because I knew I’d likely get hurt trying to get to it myself,” they joke lightly with him in an attempt to lighten the mood once more. It was successful, if the tiny snort from Mirai was anything to go by. “I know that’s not as comparable to losing an entire arm, but you get the idea.”

Mirai gives them a grateful smile, placing another kiss to the top of their head. With that conversation over, and the two both physically and mentally exhausted from the days events, a well deserved sleep was in order.

Cuddled up to each other in bed, Mirai waited until his spouse’s breathing evened out, signaling that they fell into a peaceful sleep. He slowly maneuvers himself so that his face could press against the top of their head, his arm holding them close.

“Thank you,” he whispers, rubbing soothing motions against their skin. “For everything.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #sir nighteye x reader #mirai sasaki x reader #sasaki mirai x reader #sir nighteye #mirai sasaki #Anonymous #dame writes

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yomogi-mogi-mochi · 1 year

Text

Ineffable Bloom

Pairings: Azul/Siren MC

Summary: Despite your status as siren, there are not many words that reach those around you anymore, voice now muted and marred from the surgeries you have endured to remove the carnations that once suffocated your throat. But you don't mind it, serving quietly as the gardener of Night Raven College, making do with a notepad and pen when necessary. You are pleased to find your childhood friend, Azul, now attends the school, who spontaneously hires you for the flower arrangements he decides to decorate in his lounge with. There's little hope you bear with the silent poetry you weave with each meticulously placed flower, only an ache which tumbles over you like the ceaseless seas. However, Azul is not deaf to this song you have sealed in your bouquets, having cherished the morsels of sweetness in your childhoods where you shared the silent language of each flower.

Notes: Sorry this took ages lmao. Been in a “creating anything is obsolete” phase my/spring allergies are starting so I am. Dying. Part of the twst myth series, here is the post with some basics. I just reached 1000 likes on tumblr which might not be much to some but wowwww thank you guys for your support!!

GN terms for MC

CW: Emotional abuse and toxic parenting when we get into MC’s backstory

AO3 Link Here.

Masterlist

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“Would you like to add a ribbon to this? I’ll add it for free since I have some extra?” You placed the last slender stalk of green hydrangea into the bouquet and move your hands in practiced shapes and swerves, forming each phrase with careful deliberation.

Jack struggles a bit in forming as keen language with his hands, but you appreciate that he has taken the time to respond in your vernacular. Writing does get a little tiring after a bit. “If you wouldn’t mind. I think Trey would appreciate that.” He pauses, looking to Ruggie, who sways around the room with his hands behind his head in boredom, dipping his gaze to the lilies standing tall in a bucket on the ground. “Right, Ruggie?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever is fine.”

The wolf huffs a bit before crossing his arms. “You know, you should be grateful (Name) is doing this so last minute since you forgot to place the order a week ago like we all agreed on.”

“Ugh get of my back‒ Leona had me running around more than usual last week…” His eyebrows raise a bit when he brings his attention to the dandelions drying above him, a slight movement you take notice to when wrapping the bouquet in its final layer. “Besides, who cares about all the details of each flower, it’s not like whoever is receiving them is looking into all the deep meanings of each blade of grass.”

You finish tightening the bow around the bouquet, assuring with your trained hands that it is secured tightly onto the broom, before handing it off to Jack. “Just like you mentioned in the interview‒ green color scheme, with symbols of loyalty, prosperity, and patience. Here is a card that has all of the flower languages on them.” You sign, which the man responds with a smile, and a clumsy thank you with his hands.

Ruggie has drifted over to the dandelion heads soaking in a bowl of water, being prepared for the dandelion honey you sell at Sam’s shop while his junior admires the bouquet in reverence. “You like dandelions?” You write on a notepad, poking Ruggie with it. He looks over lazily, shrugs.

“I guess.”

“They symbolize ‘an oracle of love’, resilience, and even sorrowful goodbyes. The name Dandelion comes from the word dent-de-lion, meaning the ‘jaws of a lion’- fierce, is it not?” Ruggie hums in curiosity in response, glancing at the flowers again to imagine it with a growing smile on his face. “Flowers and plants all have their silent poetry. It’s good to tip your ears to them once in a while, they may have something to say to you.”

“You hear that Jack‒ ‘jaws of a lion’..." The hyena says with his hand on his hips, a bashful finger grazing his nose.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get going, we have a lot of prep to do for Trey's celebration." Jack turns to you before he leaves "Oh, you should stop by if you have time‒ everyone was curious during my birthday who had arranged my broomquet. I'm sure the other students would be thrilled to see the face of our new‒ well, I guess not so new anymore‒ gardener."

You furiously shook your head, scurrying your hands across the air in a flurry. "I wouldn't want to intrude…my work is nothing worth fussing over…"

"Anyone with a pair of working eyes can see otherwise‒ your talent is unmatched, you nearly performed a miracle reviving my half dead cacti." Jack smiles, remembering fondly of the times he had come in, asking you for advice on his growing horticulture collection. "Besides, it's nice for the students and staff to get familiarized."

"And free cake." Ruggie adds.

You raised your eyebrows at that, quelling the swirling anxiety in your stomach. "…okay, I'll try to make it. Just have to finish a few things here and I should be good to head out."

"We'll see you then, (Name)."

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You brush your apron, relieving the weariness of a day's work in the breath that swelled from the bottom of your stomach and escaped as an audible huff that loosened the tension of your shoulders. However when you glance at your phone, anxiety shot through you as you realize time had passed a lot quicker, and it was about half an hour past the time Jack had told you to come. In racing footsteps, you gathered your items, throwing your apron on the hook near the front door before slamming it.

By the time you arrive, everyone is singing happy birthday, gathering in a circle around who you assumed was Trey, who bore a bashful smile on his face with the broomquet in his hands. You catch the eye of Jack across the room, who lights up when you wave nervously at him. The room erupts in applause and bright laughter as Trey blows out the candles of his cake‒ a volume you take a mental note of to judge just how many people were at this celebration. Quite a lot, especially now as the students disperse, preparing plates and cutlery to cut the delicious looking strawberry shortcake.

"Hey~ what are you doing here?"

There’s a surge of anxiety when those words are pointed at you, which you respond with a pressed smile as you swerve your head to the voice. To your surprise, you recognize the face which greets you, though it is a bit unnatural seeing them without a bluish tint to their skin, or scales. You suppose it’s a surprise for them as well, seeing you out of the water for the first time in about eight years.

“I thought I recognized that face. Hello, (Name), it has been a while.”

You hands move automatically to the pen and paper stuffed inside your pocket. “Jade? Floyd? It’s been a while. What are you doing here?”

“Eh? What's with the notepad little siren?”

The anxiety returned with Floyd's words. Even with the Leech family’s connections and the chattiness of your hometown, it was hard for rumors to form with the eight years you had spent apart from your home‒ your friends. You were thankful a bit for the amnesty it brought you on rare occasions like this, but explaining the whole situation was difficult for you‒ making up a believable excuse even more so considering the one memorable thing your species was known for. Sirens‒ their voice famed to plunge sea farers into maddening passion, the talents of which even the great Sea Witch openly admired in historical record. Perhaps you had been an example of this once, training your throat to squeeze and burn itself to strike impossible notes, whirling an unmatched vibrancy when you perfected each lyric, each score, each tendon to stand straight, expand your lungs, smile, and sing. Even if you had such talents in the past, it was negated with every pinch and pull of your mother’s craft‒ that memory now clandestine, numbed from the surgery.

Or that’s what you told yourself, as your calloused fingers graze the satin ribbon around your neck, the scars marring it aching slightly as you adjusted the fabric in a slight nervous tick. They’re been healed from quite some time‒ or you believe they are from the years you had observed every winding crack slowly dull against time‒ but the mountainous fossils carved onto your flesh would grow tender like this, pushed then retraced piercingly like the jagged shores far from your homelands, leaving snowy, bursting seafoam prickling against your skin. You suppose all you could do is tighten a smile against your mute lips, maneuvering past it as best you could.

“I’ll explain later. What are you guys doing at NRC?”

“We’re students, see~?” Floyd flashes a crooked smile, turning to the side to show off his dorm uniform. “Jade here is even the vice dorm leader. Boring if you ask me.”

“What are you doing here, (Name)? I don’t think I’ve seen you in my classes.”

“My aunt just retired as the gardener here, she's back at her shop in the Shaftlands. So I've come to officially take her place."

"We'll have our quartet back in no time now‒ you should visit the Monstero Lounge sometime so we can catch up~" Floyd wraps an arm around your shoulder, hanging lazily off it while his twin smiles.

"I agree with Floyd. Azul would be more than happy to see you too." At Jade's words, you brighten, and quickly scribble onto your notepad.

"Azul here too? Is he here today?"

Jade nods. "He's our dorm leader, actually. And yes, I think he just went outside to get some fresh air" his smile widens "you know how he is."

You do. Surely he was tired of the noise and pleasantries of birthday celebration. "Azul the dorm leader huh."

"You won't believe how much he’s changed unless you see for yourself." Floyd switches his weight to his other foot, landing on his brother's shoulder while gesturing to the veranda doors. You swerve your head towards it, trying to make out a figure against the bright blue skies and roses reaching towards the mild sun. There's a slight silhouette, but you can barely make out its features with the glare of the glass.

"You should go to him. He talks about you sometimes, you know." Before you could turn around and question the twins, their backs are turned from you, melting back into the bustling crowd. Despite your initial excitement, your feet move in idle footsteps, weighed by the heaviness which emerges from your wrapped throat, plummeting to the soles of your feet sticking densely onto the ground. The notepad in your hand is gripped through your sweaty palm‒ there was only so much space in each sliver of parchment you could fill with your words, the rest of your language lost to the silence which cages your throat. Even if you could rasp through your disfigurement with a language people would lend an ear to, you were sure that your thoughts, refined through your mother's distant voice, would drive you back into forlorn silence‒ your hands clawing and reopening your wounds wide and fresh enough to assure not even a breath could be heard from it. Flowers always came to you with such ease in comparison, eyes turned away from your secret adoration for something far more beautiful in perfectly placed petals, inventing no hope that you could cling to that would turn your throat raw with desire.

Even if these givings were seen, spoken of , or heard‒ you armor yourself by repenting‒ these gifts were never a virtue, but a disguise for the womb of shame you kept awake in your heart. Forgive me, for there is fear that one day that life will ripen within it‒ something as grotesque as myself, a venerable mirror to my slumbering desires to be swaddled and held. You arrive at the handle of the door too fast for your liking, hovering your hand over it with a heavy heart and tongue before grasping it quietly, hoping a little that your soundless footsteps would turn you into a phantom.

But when you are faced with a familiar image‒ his weaving dusty mauve hair, and the arctic clarity of his blue eyes, you can't help but to pause your prayers for a moment, met with the blinding joy his face brings you. Dear, dear friend.

You're so used to his name springing from your throat that you nearly tear the fragile nerves of your lesions with a rasp threatening to boil over by the warmth in your stomach. But you clench that tension in your hand as you scribble his name in hurried, crude strokes across the entire page.

"Azul?" You turned the paper pad over with clumsy, shaking hands. He looks just as surprised as you, but he nods slowly.

"(Name)?"

You nod your head vigorously to your name, decorated sweetly with his voice. His entire body is facing you now, taking you in with the gulp of his gaze. You do the same, noticing that, actually, not quite a lot has changed. Sure, the soft little octopus had grown tall and slender during the eight years you didn’t see him‒ but still, there is that mole dotted prettily on his face you remember quite well, and the softness of his eyes when they meet yours is one of your fondest, most tender memories, unraveled whenever you saw the sea blue glow of freshly fallen snow, or the velvety reflection of the skies in gentle spring creeks. But now they were here, gazing back at you, there were no words that appeared in your mind, or which you could communicate with the likeness of flowers. It's so sweet again when you hear his voice.

"What's happening? Why are you writ‒ never mind that." He shakes the thought away. "How…How have you been? Last I heard from mother you had moved with your aunt somewhere on land."

Azul does not question how, or why you stood in front of him after eight years, but rather simply‒ how are you? The smile that blooms at that realization hurts your cheeks. Azul mirrors your sentiments silently, relieved that there were no comments on his appearance of how he's "changed so much". Dear, dear friend. He missed this. Missed you too.

"I'm well. Been working as a gardener here, I enjoy it. How have you been? I’m guessing busy, I heard you're a dorm leader from the twins."

"Ah, you've already met them I see. I just hope they haven’t said anything…unnecessary." His smile widens, you trace the movement of his mole which stretches against the curve of his lips. "I've been…alright. Land life has been a lot to adjust to, but I think I have the hang of it now."

"Haha. It was a lot for me when I first came on shore too. Pillows are so weird, aren't they?"

The dormhead chuckles as you approach him near the railing, situating yourself beside him to face the white roses dotting the garden. One meant mercy, purity, the breath of love; two‒ "I deserve you"; three‒ adoration; 99 white roses, and this would be an Eden of eternal love. But you're too enraptured by his laughter to count, caught in the waves of his lightness.

"They are. But I think it's nice now, might even be a hit at the reef if we sell them during spring break. You mentioned you're a gardener?"

"Yes. I just maintain the horticulture on campus, and I do bouquets from time to time like Trey's broomquet today." You write fast, wanting to answer Azul quickly, fill the time with as much of him as you could. He leans over, watching you as you scribble, relishing silently in the smell of fresh cut lilies and seaside rosemary tangled in a salty sweet ocean breeze.

"An impressive feat, considering the size of our campus. If you're willing‒ I may actually need your help with the twin's birthdays coming soon."

“I'd be happy to help! We would need to set an interview up like I do with most of my clients‒ just so I know their preferences more. But it'll be easier since I already know Jade and Floyd." Truthfully, you were already putting together the perfect bouquet for the twins, violet roses here, silver ragwort there, and a sprinkle of beauty berry should bring the composition together in a delicate balance. The meeting was just an excuse to assure another conversation with Azul again, a thought which churned a feeling of shame within you, rolling you smooth with its ragged tongue that sanded down the rough joy jutting out from you like an unfinished pearl. When Azul nods on confirmation, this sensation becomes slightly eased, but your muscles churn inside you like the dark, deep seas.

"I agree. Nonetheless, us four should meet at the mostero lounge soon to catch up. I could use a talent like yours to freshen up the look of the lounge a bit‒ perhaps we could work a contract of some sort out."

"I'm not that good, I'm not so sure I can hold up to your expectations, dormleader."

"Please‒ Jade's tastes aren't so bad but Floyd's sense of interior design is abysmal. His idea of interior design is a bunch of half finished snacks decorating the shelf beside his bed. Any help would be wonderful."

A silent laugh shakes your shoulders. "I'll think about it."

The patio door opens again‒ revealing Jack, who waves a hand towards you, and speaks with clumsy hands. "They're cutting the cake (Name)- Azul, you too‒ it's gonna be gone if you stay out here for too long."

"Be right there." You sign, lifting your body from the deck railing.

"Is that sign language? I've never seen it in person." Azul holds the door open for you, allowing you to scurry in with a bow of your head.

You nod. "Writing gets tiring at times. But I'm happy either way people speak to me." There’s a twitch in Azul’s eyes that you catch at your statement, regret tingling at your fingertips making your skin feel raw against your flesh. You squeeze the meat of your palm to ignore it.

"We saved you two some cake~" Floyd summons the two of you with a wave, gesturing to two neighboring seats across from them.

Jade smiles, scooping a part of his cake with a fork. "It's nice that we're back together like this. It seems forever ago that you left the reef (Name)."

"But eight years fly by, don't they? You're going to have to catch me up on all the embarrassing stories of each other."

"Only if you let us in on some blackmail about you (Name)." Floyd reveals his sharp teeth with a wide grin, licking the icing off his fork.

"I will." You write, hoping you can fill their heads enough with the happier moments at your aunt's flower shop and time so far as the NRC gardener, rather than deliberate the disease which flowered in your lungs, the sickness that came with it‒ the surgery, the scarring, the healing‒ your departure from your mother, from your home, from them. The ribbon feels tight on your throat, your smile grows tense on your lips. You try your best to quell the swelling waves of anxiety, eased a bit with the laughter of your friends that rang in your presence once more.

——————————————————

You meet them again at the VIP section of their lounge just a few days later, having planned a date to meet before you went home after the birthday celebration. Though conversation was a bit stiff at first, energy begins to swell in the room as you reminisce the events of your childhood, and the years of adolescence you missed in the 8 years of absence from your hometown. The conversation slowly progresses towards how the three would be able to see you more, shifting back to Azul's proposal to have you come to set up flower arrangements in the lounge.

"How about roses?" Floyd suggests. "Classic. Everyone likes them."

A shrug. "Hm. They're a nice touch‒ but a bit basic. I can add them in, but I wouldn't make them the focal point since there's just better flowers out there."

"What do you suggest?" Azul asks.

You think, flipping through the catalog of flowers in your mind. "Especially for the color scheme of your dorm, I think hydrangeas would be nice. Blue poppies, perhaps some rosemary in there as well. Maybe purple carnation‒” you scribble that last thought away as quickly and vigorously as it came, your throat tightening in remembrance at that thought.

“Those sound great‒ but I want something more elegant looking, the carnations you mentioned would be fitting‒ ah‒ remember those flowers from that story you always talked about? The one about the poetry being written on the petals?”

You were glad he moved from carnations. Besides, purple carnations signified grief and death in some cultures, far removed from the emblem of prayer they were in your culture. “Hyacinths?”

“Precisely. What do the white ones mean?” What about this one? What does this say? How about this, this, and this? You remember the way he pointed to each flower in your encyclopedia lent by your aunt, his small fingers fluttering across the page like a busy little cuttlefish at your riveting explanations. This is this, this and this. There was always a hurry to your words when you spoke to others‒ particularly your mother‒ rushing to seize the brief opportunity allowed for you to speak, but no matter how much you had stumbled over your words in clumsy delight, Azul listened with a smile on his face, making notes on paper for his experiments, words rushing to his hands like a school of fish.

“White ones mean a ‘quiet love’, or ‘love that is quelled’. If you want something with a happier meaning though, I would go with white wisteria, it means sweet nostalgic memories or drunken love; cornflowers‒ delicacy and elegance; or salvia‒ veneration and wisdom. Purple chrysanthemum would be splendid too‒ meaning your wish will come true."

You remember when your mother was kinder, tucking your small, innocent body into her soft arms‒ hushing your cries with a tender whisper. It was without that rattle in your throat she pointed towards you like a knife when you grew from that chaste form, sullied and filled with her disappointment. Your body was tall and flushed with it, but not quite tall enough, not quite curved and plump the way she liked‒ needed you to be to carve her desired image into you. A mirror within a mirror within a mirror‒ mother and child, mother and child. Her words lashing as the waves cracking against the jagged rocks, shaping you into a memorial of her pains, her aching hunger.

But you returned to that far-flung memory of her maternal care, remembering the legend she told you about purple chrysanthemums‒ placing one dearly to your hair, chirping her bright song with a story that was passed from the throat of her mother, to the her ears as a child, blood through blood. This was one of the only memories you remember of her singing not to an audience or a stage‒ but to you, flesh of her womb, skin and bones lovingly mirrored in babbling purity. You trace her unusually soft words with your hand, gliding across the page with the exact pitch of her voice swimming in your mind.

"There's a legend among our kind, of the purple chrysanthemum. We decorate our most treasured people with it, and wear it as a sign of someone watching over you to make a dream come true‒ whether it is a benevolent god, or another person." You pause your writing, the three looking over you to watch you write. "It symbolizes the victory of love‒ its power which pulls the best from you to achieve something as distant as a dream."

Your pen stills. "But‒ I should retract my suggestion. People of other cultures use it to commemorate death, I wouldn't want to offend someone."

Azul is brightened by the way you talk about flowers again, the fragrant morsels on his mind blooming, coloring him vividly in your dazzling artistry. This is this, this, and this. The way you forge lustrous, silent poetry with each careful placement of a blossom amazes him each time, finding your words lingering and echoing in the cove of his mind. "No." His mouth races somewhat brash, he tries again, clearing his throat. "No‒ I trust your initial judgment." He smiles. You trace that mole on his face. "I like it."

"Then it's decided."

Floyd yawns, draping his arms dramatically against the couch, and lulling his head upwards with a sigh. “Ugh. Enough with the flower talk‒ let’s talk about something more interesting.” He flashes a toothy smirk. “(Name), you wanna hear about the time Azul cried so hard he threw up?”

His twin clasps his hands with a similar expression. “Oh, that’s definitely a good one.”

Azul’s eyes blow wide open. “That is absolutely a violation of our contract‒”

“I don’t believe that includes (Name) actually.” Jade muses with a sly grin.

"Why was he crying so hard he threw up??"

The dormleader groans, dropping his hands into hands.

The twins exchange a look before Jade answers. "You, of course."

"Me?" You point to yourself in disbelief.

Floyd chuckles. "He sipped a little wine at the restaurant on accident. Then he starts blubbering about how 'oh I miss them', 'oh remember when they did this', and 'oh‒"

"I think they get the point, brother."

While Floyd ignores his twin in favor of continuing the story, Azul continues to hide his slowly darkening face behind his hands, while you sit, pen hovering over the paper.

“Why?”

The twins blink with a confused expression on their face, while Floyd speaks with a baffled tone. “Ha? Why? What do you mean why?” From the corner of your eye, you see Azul lift his head from his hands to look you, with what expression, you can’t tell‒ training your eyes on the paper with hardened brows, blood tinging on you tongue from the flesh drawn between your teeth.

The pen in your hand hovers above the paper with a soft tremble. Why? Why me? When you left that reef years ago, you left any notion that your presence would be something that would be worth lingering over‒ much more grieving about‒ a thought that was confirmed by the way your mother hurriedly dumped you at your aunt’s flower shop near the somber shores, her frosty gaze and distanced followed by years of inveterated silence as incurable and everlong as the one wrapped around your throat. Like the winter storms on the beach where your aunt's shop sat upon, that silence from your mother, and everyone else for that matter, was as thrashing and unforgiving to your empty ears and throat. There was nothing left for you down there, just memories that would make that scraped dryly against your throat and make you long for something your body was not mended properly for. So the proposition that Azul had felt something towards you‒ so much so that he had shed actual tears for you‒ threatened to bring the nausea deep in your darkened stomach frothing at the surface. You pushed through it, hand gliding clumsily across the paper.

“Never mind, sorry. I should get going soon‒ I’m behind on some duties in at the Botanical Gardens.”

Azul sighs in slight relief, and stands as you gather your things. "I'll see you off." You bid goodbye to the twins, who flash a pointed smile at you while Azul holds open the lounge doors to leave.

“Come back again so we can embarrass Azul more with our stories.” You smile at Jade's words.

Before you pass through the portal, Azul taps your shoulder. He lays his hand flat against his lips, sweeping it towards you. You're taken a bit by surprise, but soon your cheeks ache from the warmth squeezed into them by your curved lips, turning the nausea reaching from your stomach to your chest into something, you think, extraordinary.

You held that feeling in your chest as much as the rupturing threaded into yourself would‒ drinking in the ease of passing clouds and the clemency of rippling seawater tickling the bottom of you feet‒ much too quick, too light, too wonderful to be bound by the chthonic gods. Your heart races with the swiftness of sprightly, sun drunken waves. There was a rising ache‒ knowing your fractured body would splinter before you could swallow this feeling in its entirety, filling you body brilliantly like a blooming chrysanthemum‒ unfurling its divine petals towards all cardinal directions in a form which flared itself every which way. Victory of love. You knew it would not triumph against your fragmentation‒ but despite it all, you smiled stupidly, weaving your florid fingers against his to show him the correct placement of the word.

"Like this." You instruct‒ on his chin, near that dotted mark, then towards you in one motion. The word is practiced twice so you can linger your hands on his own. "Thank you, thank you." You mouth.

The heat of your fingers burns this motion into him, even as you let go. He practices it again, hoping to retrieve your sensation onto his skin with the repeated motion. “Thank you.”

You take your pointed and middle finger to your eye, then glide it towards the tip of your chin with a circle made with your pointer and thumb.

“See you soon.”

——————————————————

Carnations are always a favorite among your customers. The flower of love, of adoration‒ of the gods. They have been woven into hair to commemorate new beginnings, have been rumored to sprout from a devoted mother’s tears faced with her child’s death. Their name comes from carnis, or flesh, from the myth of innocent bloodshed, a shepherd who had his eyes gouged out from a goddess of the hunt, who was displeased by his flute playing which caused the animals of her hunting grounds to be spooked. From his empty flesh, carnations grew, white petals emerging, stained with blood. White carnations typically signify the mourning of lost lives, pure love, unrequited love, loyalty, faithfulness, a mother’s love.

But most of all, it whispers, my love for you is alive. It felt that way when they flourished in your lungs, choking the song in your throat in just a few months after they sowed into your meat. Alive and red and beating so vibrantly against your flesh‒ filthy with the darkened red of your aching insides. They came as impossible heaps from your mouth, emptying quietly as you could in the corner of your room so as not to bother your sleeping mother in the room over. You remember furling your body inward, praying it to become smaller, smaller, smaller‒ quieting your agony, erasing your swaying footsteps to the medicine cabinet, slicing your body up and down into manageable pieces. It was a dance in your eyes you carried everywhere with you that classified every variation of footsteps, the slightest inflection in tone, a twitch of the lungs before it even came‒ so you could shape yourself flat against the sharpened teeth of any who bothered to bite down on your brittle, bitter form, flaying and cleaving your meat carefully to its shape. Your eyes remembered these wounds, reopened and festering against your clumsy stitches to take into account next test‒ next time, next interaction, next opportunity to prove‒ I’ll be better, I’ll prove I am worthy enough to live.

‘You’re so sensitive‒ you would be good with flowers’, your aunt says. Thank you, you gulp in the ache of your disfigurement with pride‒ a medallion passed from your mother, passed from her mother, passed from her own‒ blood through blood it was gifted, and split from your strangled throat. It felt like your body rejected it, but oh, that was the best part of it all‒ more pain, more, more, more‒ something to wear on your skin as a testament to how you’ve been such a good child, to mutilate yourself against anyone’s maws. Something to show, mother, love me for all of these marks prove it, prove that I can cut open myself deep enough to mirror the perfected version of yourself.

Carnations are a symbol of that. People give them as a trophy of love that is agony, love that is alive, love which slaughters. It is a mother's love. They're popular in those early months during the spring, where the flowers devour the corpses mulled over by autumn and winter, chewing and spitting it out with a drunken splendor. As such you had many on hand during these colder months, surrounded by consecrations of this love, thrashing, bursting inside you like sea-brine churned into frothing bubbles, the waves breaking against it swelling them over the edge of the shore. You could feel the eyes of the flowers leering towards you, tightening the ribbon around your neck.

The hand in your pocket reaches towards the heads, your fingers brush against their cold petals. They are worn, withered from the days they have slept stagnant and untouched in their watery casket. You are quick to take them from their bucket, shoving in a bag to be thrown away in the compost, back into the earth to nourish the next generation.

“(Name)?”

Was it already that time already? You had promised him you would meet with him to plan the twins' broomquet after you closed, but the day had waded through you so quickly.

His name, as always, almost makes it out of your throat. But you held the silence in your mouth like your muffled heartbeat, quietly turning to him with weary eyes. He immediately drinks their lorn gaze, before he takes out a small leather bound pocketbook from his inner pocket, flipping through a few pages, returning it to his coat when he finishes reading the contents of the page. With clumsy hands, he signs. “Do you need help?”

You look him up and down, pausing your hands shoved deep inside the bag of wilted carnations. “You know sign language?”

“I learned.” He says sheepishly. “Apologies‒ clearly I haven't gotten too far with it. I don't know some words yet.”

Your eyes widen. “Why?”

He points to his head, then towards you. For. You. I learned for you.

A smile curves on his lips, but you avert your eyes from it. You’re afraid to measure that tinted color on his cheeks, the shape of his softened eyes, the length of his smile the wrong way‒ to take something without anything worthy from yourself to give in compensation, so you take his words instead, knowing you could at least repay them with something much more beautiful, whole. Flowers. You don't look at him. “I could use some help.”

He rolls his sleeves up, takes the carnations in his hands and brings them inside the bag. “What is the meaning of carnations?”

“Love, adoration, ‘my love for you is alive’.”

“Easy to capitalize on. I see why it is so popular.” He takes one between his fingers, twirls it with a sly smile. "I like it."

You return it best you could. “They’re a bit grotesque, don’t you think? The petals are quite unfinished, like they’ve been cut jagged.”

“You don’t like them?”

You remember the day after the surgery, your lungs emptied not only from the lack of carnations taking seed inside of it, but sapped from anything you had felt for your mother. You realized, that day, oh.

It was her all along.

You had searched far and wide for what the cause of your sickness was‒ you had given too much yourself to too many people to pinpoint who you had such feelings for. Your nerves felt exposed to all, to everything all the time, pricked and pinched at any abstruse movement, washing over you like a bloody crusade everytime.

There was nothing written about in the dozens of books, articles, and lyrics you dug up that had said anything about familial love specifically, so it never struck you that it was even a possibility‒ besides‒ your mother loved you, didn't she?

But of course, the carnations‒ of course. Your love for her may have been alive, but so were these flowers, once. Before they were picked from your tendons and emptied from you as rubbish.

The absence of your piteous devotion to her plummeted your heart deep into the ocean abyss, your flesh weighted as a museum of that dance, the butchering of your body, marked up and down with lines which traced the shapes of jaws with surgical precision. If you could not be loved by the flesh which founded your own, surely, it would be a ludicrous dream to wish for any other being to love you at all, to take the weeping, patchwork meat of your body and consume it.

You want to get rid of all these carnations, give them all away at once. Take them, take them all. Yes, your mother would love these‒ yes or course they're a sign of eternal love, pure love‒ anything and everything that is alive, they would be a wonderful gift. You offer them as extras to people, suggest them instead of those beautiful roses or lilacs or lilies. These gifts were never a virtue, but a disguise for the womb of shame you kept awake in your heart. Take them, take it all. Take everything from me.

You smile, squeeze your eyes to mimic candor.

"No, I hate them."

His expression is like sand, shifting in a thousand ways. You try to inspect each grain of lustrous sand to feel how they shape around your words, but always, the waves. Wait here, you tell him, to go toss the flowers back into the decomposing earth to become the blood and body their children will sprout from.

You set some lavender tea and dandelion honey cakes on the table‒ the bareness of the table is odious to you, sways you with abhorrence. Even with it filled, you sign. "I'm sorry, I wish I had more to offer you."

"This is plenty." He signs. You avert your eyes from that soft smile, but the warmth that bubbles in your chest knows the angle of its curve, the way his mole stretches across his chin, the world in his eyes.

"So, what exactly are you looking for in the twins’ bouquet?”

He thinks, you know he folds his arms to do this. “I trust your tastes. You were always better at reading people than I was.”

“I…” You pause. Yes, the dance‒ breathing in the world raw. But part of it is remaining silent to that ripening wound. “I guess.”

“What do you suggest, then?”

“I think blue star would be great. Perhaps some ragwort, and I believe I have some dried sea lavender left from my aunt’s shop. Salvia would be great too, and some Zion, beauty berry as well.”

“What do they all mean?”

“Blue star and salvia mean trust‒ something they are bound by. Zion flowers signify that someone is thinking of you, even if they are far. And sea lavender lets someone know they are thinking of you. Beautyberry means a deep understanding. I can of course fill up the space with roses, some chrysanthemums, of course.”

Azul writes in his small pocketbook, scribbling your words across a page, then another, then another. He was always like this when you talked‒ recording the medicinal properties of plants, committing your sensitives to flowers with a fervor. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d say he was excited by your words, but you didn’t.

“Is it alright if I came and watched?”

“Watched?”

“Yes, if I came and watched you work on the twins’ bouquet.”

“It’s boring work, you would fall‒“

You feel your hands in his, your words quickly swallowed by the warmth of his palms. He speaks with softness which reaches deep within your ears, tingles the back of your neck.

“I think it’s quite brilliant, the way you work.”

You want to clasp your ears shut, squeeze your eyes until you see stars‒ knees tucked into your body, forming an embryo to protect yourself from those words. Your tongue shakes in your mouth. You want to scream at him. However to realize this rejection through your trembling fingers would be to deny him something, even if it was the mangled scraps which make your bundle of flesh. You'd keep this revolution plunged deep inside the heart of your whirling sea, a war raging at your marrow to keep the shores lush with anything he'd wish to take. Take it, take it all.

You're still for a moment. "Have it your way, then."

He smiles, but this time, you can't look away.

——————————————————

When he comes a few days later, he brings tupperwares full of food.

"What's all this? A feast?" You see various dishes from the nights your mother brought you to perform at the Ashengrotto’s restaurant‒ fragrant steamed fish that falls off the bone, crunchy seaweed salad, steaming bowls of fish-broth soup, bursting with flavor.

“My mother’s recipes. Your favorite, at least from back then.” He remembers fondly of the times you would finish performing, joining him at the seat right beside him. You’d point to the aquatic plants, bring him to the magic and wonders of their chemistry, their mythos, your sensitivities to them, the world. He's shaped his shores against the curve of your gentle waves, your words always returning to his sandy beaches to leave a million gifts from the sea. This is this, this, and this. He'd hold each sparkling grain of sand, each seashell nymph like an exquisite pearl, cupping his ears to every single one to catch the whispers of eternity bundled in each of them. No matter how you would run yourself raw against jagged beaches and the maws of dark coves‒ he would remain a mirror to your sun faced sanctuaries, hoping that in this lifetime, you would realize that it was you‒ you all along‒ that he'd chased, parodying your brilliance to finally become himself.

His words almost bring you to tears. You gulp it down with the nausea that rises on your tongue, cindering the muscle with its heat.

"Why are you‒" your hands spit out these words in a fervor. "Why are you so fucking nice to me? What is all this?"

You hate the way his expression softens, the infinite arctic blue which melts against your image, the elation in your chest upon devouring such delectable things. It’s revolting.

"Because…" He begins out loud. There’s breath that swells his shoulders, before he gathers his fingers to a shaking fist, locking it under his chin.

Precious.

You swing your head left and right mutely, wrapping a hand around your neck as if to choke any sound that could be ripped from it. Still, it comes out like dried leaves, a strangled rasp, a whimper which rattles in your tightened throat. You hate how he pulls your trembling fingers from your skin, you hate it. But you let him.

His warmth comes as a cosmic storm stirring the oceans into inescapable waves. You were a fool to even try to shelter yourself from it‒ his tenderness beat against your form so loudly it hurt. You can’t pull away, your body does not let you.

Azul sees the fear that bruises your eyes, the way your chest lurches, in heaving, shuddering, controlled breaths to mathematically contain that terror inside of you. There’s a moment where he suspects himself to be the culprit, the distaste of his form, the vile nature of his weaknesses. But you had always consumed all of him, everything‒ his unsightly body, his awful shortcomings, all of the best and worst parts of himself with what surely was heavenly grace. Everything but his adoration for you, a mirror to your givings to the world, and most of all‒ him. This was something within.

He brings you to a seat, a cup of water to your hands. He lets you take time, sipping the moment in small gulps like the drink he sets in your hands. Silence, even with the lack of words exchanged between you two, was never something which was present when you were beside him. His mind always rushed with thoughts about you‒ all the more louder in the eight years you had been absent from his side. Even then, your likeness was always carved in the back of his mind, coming and going like a haunting oceanfront.

“Do you remember the first day we met?”

You remember. “Tell me.” You sign.

“You saved me from those awful kids, remember? I still got so scared of them I got ink everywhere. You were in such wonderful garments I didn’t want you to get dirty, so I told you to back off.”

His smile makes your own. He continues. “I was such a brat back then‒ even after you fended those kids off I told you to get away from me‒ ‘don’t come crying if I spoil your garments!’” A stiff chuckle escapes your nose as you remember the expression on his face. It was much like your own‒ frightened. “But you told me‒“

“Stain them, I don’t care.” Of course you remember. The surprise on his face, the stutter of his hands as you held them.

“Yes. We spent the whole day together. You took me to the shores for the first time, facing the field of‒ what was it?”

“Memorial roses.”

“Memorial roses. You told me they meant love for the honest form." He drags his gaze from his hands, and into your eyes. "I didn't even see the sun set when you talked about flowers the way you do. All my current knowledge of horticulture comes from you, you know.”

"Surely not all of it."

He shakes his head. "No, all of it. I've inscribed every word you've said to me in my mind and I've carried you with me all those years I spent toiling away in my octopot." The hand he rests on your own warms your fingers. "I have you written all over me."

You grip the heat of your throat, hands heavy as you raise them to retaliate, again. "No. Why would you want‒ ."

"I'm not. Why do you think so?" That softness, again, his eyes. Revolting.

You threw the words from your hands in frustration. Didn't he understand? "Why would you want someone like me to‒ to poison you?"

"I could say the same for myself. Why did you defend me that day?"

You remember the look in his eyes, the way he crouched low to the ocean floor in shame. "I saw myself in you. I couldn't‒"

"You couldn't bare it." He finishes.

"Yes, but you're different. With me, I'm not‒ I wasn't‒ "

"But you aren't different." There's a growing lump in his throat, frustration, heat‒ it rises with the volume of his voice, erupting raw at the back of his tongue. "Why won't you let me show you that you're worthy of the same treatment you give to the world?"

“How could I let you?" Your legs ascend from beneath you, your hands feel hot in the air as you flare them out from yourself, hurling them for Azul to see. "Look."

"Look at me." He would see, finally.

The nail of your thumb digs on your chin as your splayed hand sharply juts from your skin. It says, "My own mother".

You slip the ribbon from your throat, unraveling yourself in front of him. Azul sucks a tense breath in‒ you revel in it, your venerable mirror‒ it breaks against your old stitches, bringing you an ineffable bloom inside your chest. You don’t know if it's pleasure or pain which tightens it, but you feel as living, as chemical, as whole as a flourishing chrysanthemum‒ blazing your florid petals every which way, splitting the bud in a thousand directions. Here is proof. You lay yourself out, to him, flay your fragmentation against his eyes. The wounds burn fresh the air. This was your wish, wasn’t it? Still, the seafoam bursting against your skin, the ache, in waves. You hold the emptiness in your hand triumphantly, or, you try to.

He looks when you tell him to, of course, but the softness in his eyes tightens your chest. He's silent for a moment, thinking. "Aright." Finally, he speaks.

"Will you make a contract with me?"

"...what?"

"A contract. Will you make one with me?"

Your knees fall from you when you lean towards the table in support, seating you in the chair across from him. You open your arms, facing your palms towards him, empty, silent.

"I don't have anything I could trade you."

He reaches towards your emptiness, filling it with his warmth. "Then give me this. If you have nothing, grant me you."

You bring his heat near your face, hoping to harbor‒ at least‒ next to it. You won't take it, you couldn't. The fear laps upon you like stormy waves, it's force tearing your fingers from his. "I don't have enough of myself to give you."

"This." He replenishes the absence in your hands again. "This is more than enough‒ it will always be enough." It's a firm grip, it quells the tremble in your body slightly.

"So, will you make a contract with me?"

Hesitantly, you nod.

He guides you towards the shop window where the flowers swill in the moonlight, violet chrysanthemums shining pearly, plump with their honeyed sap. He slips one between his fingers, holds it between the two of you. "I lied when I said I only liked these. When you tell me of promises of success, of love‒ I feel like I can crack open this world with my bare hands. I don’t just like it‒ everything that comes from from you soars my soul."

He continues, bashfully. You feel filled with his words. "You're my ocean, the waters that shape my shores. You've always been where I belong, and what comes back to me to mold me to what I am even after your physical absence." The heat of his hands feel like fire on your skin as he pulls it towards his own. "This is a contract, a promise. Will you let love victor over you?"

You trace that spot on his face as he smiles, you find the small way that it curves mirrored on your own lips. You drink in his smile, returning it with your own; you breathe his scent in, exhale with the breath in your lungs that stirs his and yours‒ you mold yourself against him like you've done so many times against gnashing teeth and jagged seaside cliffs, but this time, your rolling waves kiss warmly against his sun faced sanctuaries, melding together to refract the light in your joint tenderness. The feeling begins as a seed he implants in your chest, pressed firmly against your heart, and you feel it slowly burst open when it is showered in his gaze, his touch, all of him against all that you can muster‒ an ineffable thing, a bloom which you could never put into words, even with the language of whispering flowers and the spectacular earth. It comes in heaping waves like the tears that draw flushed lines on your face. He takes all which falls from you in his hands, staining his hands with the salty fragrance.

"Stop that. I'll get your hands all dirty."

"Stain them, I don't care."

You sob, you smile harder. The tears make it impossible to neurotically measure the twinge of his muscles, the shape of his expression. But you don't think of this, filled with the knowledge of his tenderness, the precise shape of his smile, the softness of his seaborne eyes that fossilize deep within you. "You know I'll be difficult. I always am."

"And you know this about me to, don't you? But this feeling for you comes as easy as water to me."

It's true what he says, you feel like you're floating‒ weightless in the mild seas, drinking in the sunlight which trickles from the skies. Waves upon waves of this brilliance that tilts the light a thousand ways for you to admire. The chrysanthamum petals seem to widen with his warmth, the same unraveling comes bursting, flowering forward in your chest. Victory of love. It comes not as a whisper this time, but loudly as the beat of your blood. You feel it within you, that victory. At last you hold it in your hands, and it shines and lusters like a brilliant peal seeped into each of its petals, blooming forward with all of its love. You allow yourself place the flower in his hair, decorating his face with your love, your victory.

——————————————————

Notes:

All sign language is based off of American Sign Language

Part of the reason why I wanted to use hanakotoba (Japanese flower language) rather than western meanings for flowers was not only because I was more familiar with it, but because the twins I believe are Asian coded. The Octavinelle dorm is seen as the "yakuza" one (Japanese controlled crime syndicate), since they demand those Azul signs contracts with to pay the price, whether through general intimidation, or just straight up physical violence. Tweels also unfortunately sort of fit into the 'Asian twins' stereotype seen in Disney media (Siamese cats in Artisocats), but their overall design (ie eye shape and bristle-y, straight hair) fit into a pseudo Asian look. You know, as much as the fictional land of twisted wonderland will allow. But either way, I think it would be cool to see different species of seafolk have different cultures, and I think sirens in particular would have their own beliefs, systems, and traditions connected to verbal storytelling.

Not entirely sure if this is the case in the western world, but the east is very sensitive about numerology‒ so “bad” numbers are usually avoided when picking out the number of flowers to give to someone.

Chthonic gods are gods connected to the underworld

Carnations were used in coronation garlands for the Romans

Christians believed that it was the flower that sprouted from Mary's tears after the crucifixion of Jesus

Also associated with Artemis, who gouged a shepherd's eyes out because she blamed his flute playing for the lack of game that day. Therefore, they are a symbol of innocent bloodshed

Carnis, the word which is speculated the word carnation comes from, also means flesh. The genus name Dianthus comes from Zeus, connecting it to his daughter Artemis' story

Memorial Rose (ノイバラ) : In the western world, it is often a symbol of wisdom or talent, used often on literary and musical symbolism by writers such as Goethe. But in Japan, it symbolizes "love for the raw/honest form", as it is usually a wild flower that grows in the plains. Modest, but lovely. In Japan it is also called the ノイバラ or "thorn of the plains", so this modest but definitely still packs a punch. Just like Azul lol

Also often grows in the coasts

Omg I just noticed all of the fics I have written has had a toxic maternal parental figure don’t worry I’ll even it out soon lol

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niki-phoria · 1 year

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Hi' im here just to ask a request lol 👀 is it possible to do a chishiya x reader where they both liked each other but never said anything about it, even if its really obvious. But they still are always together even during most of the game since reader is good at club and spade games while chishiya is good at diamonds and hearts game, so depending on the game: one only supports while the other does most of the work. So this could be during a club or spades game where physical strenght is important, so Chishiya lets reader and other playes to do the "hard work". However, reader encounters their ex in the same game and chishiya starts to get jealous because "why they are so friendly if they are exes?" lol, however, reader decided to get paired up with their ex instead of chishiya and this made him mad (even though he suggested to reader that they should join someone else who is athletic too so they can game faster and finish early, however he didn't expect to find reader's ex in the game). At the end of the game, reader ask their ex that they should be part of the beach but chishiya ended up saying something like: "they arent good enough" or something similar. This makes reader mad and ask chishiya about what is his problem and he ended up confessing his feelings to reader. I dont know what to write next 😭 have a nice dayyy

pairing: chishiya x gn!reader word count: 1.4k genre: fluff (??)

a/n: tysm for requesting !! thank you for writing it like this like it's an actual outline for a story this was a really cute idea. i cannot write angst i would cry so instead of an actual fight chishiya is just mildly annoyed and reader kinda calls him out on it lmao i hope you like it !!

[if my explanation of the game doesn't make sense the fan wiki link to this game is here]

warnings: slightly ooc chishiya, not canon compliant, canon-typical violence, this doesn't make sense in the storyline bc it was the game kyuma and his band played but i couldn't think of any other games to make it work just go with it, slight mentions of people dying, ex bf's name is keita bc i didn't wanna write (ex's name) the whole time, cussing

i'm obsessed with this gif i'm sorry he looks like a cat and it's so cute snklns he's so gender

the amusement park is eerie as you enter. the gate creeks, worn down with use. vines crawl along their sides as if it’s been abandoned for years. the chime of a new player entering catches your attention. he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt and black jeans, shifting anxiously on his feet. you recognize him immediately- keita.

chishiya raises an eyebrow as you walk over to the man. his face lights up, a grateful sigh escaping him. “y/n,” you wrap him into a quick hug before pulling away. “do you know what’s going on?”

you shake your head, stepping back. “no. all i know is there are games we have to win to earn days on our visa.” keita nods, shoving the white phone into the pocket of his jeans.

“registration closed,” the announcement begins.

“come on,” you make your way back to chishiya’s side, keita following behind you.

“difficulty: three of spades. rules: players must reach the exit before the mascots catch them. game clear: players reach the exit without getting caught. game over: the mascots kill all players. there is no time limit.”

keita shifts uncomfortably next to you. “don’t worry,” you whisper. “we’ll be alright.” he gives you a shaky nod before the announcement continues.

“players have five minutes before the mascots will begin searching.” a screen lights up, illuminated by a timer on a white background. you glance at chishiya for a second. he gives you a curt nod, following a group of people around the left side of the park.

keita follows you as you slink around the right side, searching for any areas where the potential exit could be. the night is freezing as you hide behind the rides. “game start.” the announcement chimes. you duck underneath the metal beams of a roller coaster as a tagger wearing a bunny head walks out. they’re holding a crossbow as they walk, scanning around the park. keita’s shaky hand grabs your own as you watch them leave, in search of the players.

it isn’t long before a scream rings out, followed by the whistle of an arrow being shot. the screech is cut short, leaving an eerie silence behind. you flinch a little at the noise, desperate to find the exit. behind you, keita gasps. a woman has her hand pressed against his mouth, motioning for you to stay silent.

“have you seen anything?” she whispers. you shake your head. she removes her hand from keita’s mouth, backing away. “let’s stick together. i think i saw some other people by the ferris wheel.”

you let her lead the way back around to the other side of the park. players continue to be killed off. the whistle of the arrows through the air makes you shiver. keita’s hand stays wrapped around your wrist as you guide him through the park.

pressed against the brick wall of a staff room you can just barely make out chishiya’s silhouette. he motions for you to move closer, gesturing to a back gate over his shoulder. “i think the exit is over there.” keita lets out a shaky sigh, letting go of your wrist. chishiya reaches over to grab yours, pulling you a little closer to him. his warmth feels good against your skin.

“if that’s the exit why haven’t you gone over there?” keita whispers.

chishiya doesn’t answer him, still focused on the gate. he keeps a distance between you and keita. “we could be wrong,” you explain. “it’ll get us killed if we run over there and the gate doesn’t actually lead to an exit.”

“but we’ll die if we stay here!” you bite back an exasperated sigh.

“just trust me, okay?” keita nods, pressing himself further against the wall.

you’re not sure how long you stand there, waiting. your heartbeat pounds in your ears as a tagger wearing a bunny mascot passes. they look at the darkness where you’re standing, staring for a few seconds before moving on. chishiya squeezes your shaking hand. you muster up the strength to gently squeeze back, eager to get back to the beach.

the noise of the gate rattling makes you freeze. a man yells out as an arrow hits his shoulder before he hoists his body over the remainder of the gate. you can just barely hear the noise of his phone chiming. “game clear.”

“shit,” one of the taggers curses. you’re grateful when the sound of something hitting against metal echoes throughout the park, drawing their attention away from you. chishiya doesn’t waste any time once the tagger is out of sight, pulling you along with him towards the gate. you force yourself up and over the fence, reaching down to help pull him up after you. he jumps down to safety before you grab onto keita’s hand, helping him over before you tumble down into the safety of the grass below.

in your pocket, you can feel your phone vibrating. it lights up your face when you pull it out. “game clear. congratulations.” you lean back onto the ground, sighing. keita throws his arms around you, startling you a little.

“thank you,” he whispers. “thank you.” you pat his back before he pulls away.

chishiya holds out his hand to help you up. it’s a comforting feeling to have his hand in yours when you’ve finally reached safety. “we should get back.” you whisper. he nods, intertwining your fingers.

“where are you going?” keita asks.

“there’s a place we’re staying at- the beach. there are other people there. you’ll like it.” you can feel chishiya tensing a little next to you, but you brush it off as nerves from your near-death experience.

“let’s go.”

keita silently follows you as you make your way back to the beach. the walk is long and quiet. chishiya never lets go of your hand, keeping you close to his body. you’re grateful for the warmth, content to lean against him to calm your racing heartbeat.

hatter is more enthusiastic than usual when he greets you, eagerly taking the card before turning to keita. “we haven’t seen this one yet,” he says, flicking the edge of it. he leans down in front of him, staring in front of his eyes. “i’d like to see more of what you can do. y/n, show him a room, please.”

an awkward air remains as you lead keita through the hotel. he opens a random room before flinching back and pulling it closed. “these doors don’t lock?”

“no,” you chuckle. “just pick one. as long as there’s nothing inside you’re welcome to sleep wherever. i stay in room 320. come find me if you need anything.” keita nods, whispering another quick ‘thank you’ before entering the room.

chishiya is sitting on the bed when you enter your own room. you make your way over to sit next to him, letting out a small sigh. “do you know him?”

“who? keita?” chishiya remains silent. “i used to work with him.”

“he seems really comfortable touching you.”

you cock your head a little, shifting a little to face him. “we went out a couple times before i moved to tokyo.” chishiya simply hums, looking away from you. the silence feels heavy for a few seconds. “wait, are you… jealous?” chishiya doesn’t respond but you can just barely see a flush on his ears. you bite back a laugh, reaching over to grab his hand into yours. he doesn’t move away, letting you intertwine your fingers together. “chishiya, you don’t have any reason to be jealous.” you hesitantly reach out to rest your hand on his cheek, turning him to face you. he leans his forehead against yours. “i like you.”

you can see the blush spread to his cheeks a little at your confession. your lips quirk up into a small smile as he looks down at your lips before looking back up into your eyes. “i like you too.” there’s a beat of silence between you before he speaks again. “can i kiss you?” your smile grows as you slowly lean closer to gently press your lips against his. chishiya smiles into it a little, bringing a hand up to your cheek. you wrap your arms around his neck, shifting to straddle his hips. his blush has deepened when you pull away. you lean down to press a peck against his forehead, stroking his jawline.

“nobody compares to you.” chishiya doesn’t answer, instead leaning up to press another kiss against your lips.

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